Series:Alana and Blake
   Author:Matt Moreau
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.web.archive.org/web/20120819203503/www.literotica.com/s/alana-and-blake
Published:2024-11-07
I met Alana in about the strangest way one can meet a woman, during a rape-hers. Two men were standing over a prostrate form in an alley behind the Mulberry Bar and Grill. Oh, my name is Blake Ritter. I was coming out the back taking the short cut to my car. I didn't want to have to walk all the way around the block if I didn't have to. One of the two men had a knife; I found that interesting.

That night, I was still an airborne ranger on weekend leave and in uniform. I had left a couple of my buddies inside; they wanted to close the place, but I was exhausted from the long drive up from Fort Benning, GA. where we'd just completed our indoctrination training. We, all of us, were now true believers in our own invincibility.

"Gentlemen, I believe the lady is tired and would prefer to be left alone," I said, addressing the nasties with more confidence than anyone had a right to feel being outnumbered and facing an armed enemy while not being so armed himself.

"Fuck off, soldier boy, or we're gonna be real inhospitable," said the one with the knife. He actually still had his dick hanging out. His contempt for me and my uniform pissed me off.

I moved toward the one who was unarmed. I wanted him on my left and slightly behind me. I had a plan. If it worked, the girl and I would both get out of this alive. If not we'd have something to laugh about in the next life.

The big one with the knife came at me. God was I glad that I'd excelled in bayonet training! I caused him to misdirect his thrust into the belly of his confederate. Who sank like the stock market. The bladist, momentarily shocked by his miscalculation, pulled his weapon free and slashed high, That's where I made my mistake. I tried to duck under it and he laid my right eye open wide.

"Shit! Shit it hurt!

He pulled back and came at me again. I tried to dodge his thrust, but it was hard because of the searing pain to my eye and because the blood, which was everywhere, all but blinded me. I was able to partially avoid his thrust, but it still pierced my chest maybe two inches deep just to the right of my heart. He snarled, no doubt unconcerned that I did not appear concerned which of course was in error because I was concerned as hell!

He reached out and tried to grab me by my tunic, but I caught his arm, and acting on pure adrenalin rush, broke it at the elbow. His scream energized me for the briefest of moments. I disarmed him and jammed his own blade under his rib cage and twisted it; I knew he was dead. Now if only I could survive.

I saw the girl move slightly just as I sagged to the asphalt. Well, at least I'd won my last battle. Funny, I didn't feel anything. I would learn later that shock was to thank for that little reality.

I think I heard the sirens; then, all was dark. I liked the dark. I needed the dark. I just needed to be left the fuck alone, and I was.

The room was quiet and empty except for the monitors. They were the first evidence that I had survived. I didn't really move very much, but my eye, my remaining good eye, took in the room. I'd seen rooms like this before; it was an ICU. One of the monitors must have alerted somebody; I had company almost immediately, a nurse. She hit a button, and somebody with a mobile tray came in. He was soon followed by a doctor. For the next twenty minutes I was examined and reexamined. The pronounced me alive; how fucking observant of them.

I was awakened by the morning shift coming into check my vitals. They were followed by the breakfast people. Them, by the porta-potty person who cleaned me up; that was kinda fun-she was female. Finally, the cops showed up.

"You Blake Carson?" said the short stubby one.

"That's the rumor," I replied. "But, I don't have any evidence of it to show you at the moment."

"You're a hero, Mr. Carson," said the short guy.

"Yeah? Well, that's good, right," I said.

"That's good," said tall policeman.

"Did the girl survive?" I asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact she's here too, but in a different ward. She was pretty badly beat up: some broken stuff. She asked about you. Said you took down those two pretty good. She asked to see you at some point. Wants to thank you, I guess," said stubby policeman.

"Yeah, well, tell her it's not necessary. I'm not much for sentimental stuff," I said.

"Okay, but she owes you more than you know. Those two guys you took down were both convicted rapists and one of them was a murderer. They'd have killed her for sure. They're, were, suspects in twelve killings of prostitutes during the last twenty-four months. The D.A. owes you a vote of thanks too for saving him the time and money of not having to prosecute the assholes."

"They're dead then?" I said.

"Yeah," said the tall policeman, "both of them are very deceased."

"Good. Couldn't have happened to a couple of more deserving assholes," I said.

The doctors were concerned about the wound to my chest. I'd lost my eye of course. Initially, there'd been some hope that they could save it, but that came to nothing. It was the one time in my life that I could have wished to have been known as Jack. One-eye'd Jack would have been neat; maybe I could change my name.

It was about the fifth day when I had a visitor. It was a woman, twentyish, tall, slender, nice ass; she wore a smock. "Hi," she said.

"Hi, can I get some more water?" I said. "I'm kinda dry?"

"Oh, sure," she said. "But, I'm not a nurse. I'm Alana Nelson," she said.

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were a nurse. The smock," I said. She had taken my plastic cup and was refilling it from the tap. She brought it to me.

"I'm the woman whose life you saved," she said. "I had to see you to thank you. The doctor said I could have a few minutes. I'm leaving today; I've been upstairs till now."

I looked at her. I didn't remember her. But then she'd been naked and messed up, and I'd been busy the last time we were in proximity to each other. "Oh, okay. Well, you're welcome. It's nothing that any white knight in hero's armour wouldn't have done," I said, making light of the situation.

"You saved my life, mister. I won't forget it." I was thinking that a date with her would have been reward enough, but I squelched the thought. She was a rape victim.

"Really, think nothing of it. I was there and I was lucky," I said.

"I was the one that was lucky," she said. "I owe you a dinner at the very least," she said. "Please, when they let you go home, I'd like to drop by and speak with you. You know maybe take you to lunch or dinner or whatever.'

"Sure," I said. "I'd like that." Looked like I was gonna get my date after all.

Several of my brothers in arms visited with me over the time I was laid up. They'd made a big deal out of us being rangers and invincible and helping damsels in distress. I even got a visit from Colonel Johnson. Except for the eye thing, initially, I felt pretty good. The bad news was that my injuries got me my pink slip from the military; I was down about that. I'd loved being a ranger. Plus, all of that training down the shitter! Damn.

******

I was released two weeks later. Alana must have had someone on the inside cluing her because she was in the lobby waiting for me when I came down.

"Hi there, soldier," she said.

"Hi to you too," I said. "Nice to see you."

"I was thinking. I mean if you don't have any big plans for the day, that maybe you'd like to join me; I mean for the whole day. You know: Lunch, dinner, talk, wine, whatever or all of it," she said.

This was working out better than I'd hoped. "No, I have no plans at all. They were gonna call me a cab…"

"Then it's settled. I'm the driver, and you're my poor, poor man," she said, taking the helm of the wheelchair and steering me outside where she had already parked the car.

I was able to walk, I informed her, "It's just that the hospital staff insisted that I ride until I was outside and officially out of their hands." She nodded and kept on steering and pushing. I was thrilled to be her "poor, poor man."

******

Finally out of the wheelchair, we walked, albeit me a trifle weakly, to her car. It felt good to feel the sun on my face, and feeling it with a pretty woman to share it made it special.

"Where are we headed now?" I asked.

"My house. It's not far. I need to… " She smiled. She didn't finish what she started to say, and I didn't push it.

Parking in front of a one story ranch style, she motioned for me to get down. She came around to my side, took my hand and led me inside.

The house was sparsely but tastefully furnished. Oddly, there was no couch or real chairs in the front room, only three wooden benches. I made the guess that the wood was rattan, famous in the Philippines. There were some small tables spaced around with flowers-real ones-in vases placed on them. It was the strangest room I had ever seen in a private home. This was one interesting lady.

She evidently noticed my interest. "I don't do things like other people," she said. "I'm my own person. Something of a wannabe artist, actually," and she giggled.

"No, no," I said. "It looks-nice. Unusual, like you say, but nice. It's almost like-an indoor garden."

"You're very perceptive," she said. "That is exactly what it is supposed to portray. You made points with that one, young man," she said, having fun mocking me.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Sure, no problem," I said.

"Does the eye patch bother you?" I must've looked like a pirate with the black eye patch.

"No, I'm getting used to it. The doctor told me I need to get plenty of sleep in the future to protect the eye I've still got," I said. "I plan to do everything he says."

"Very wise," she said. "What about your military job?" she said.

I grimaced and shrugged. "I'm outta there," I said. "The colonel told me that I would be mustered out in another sixty days. It would have been less, but he worked it out for me, so that I could get a few more paychecks before they cut me loose."

She looked thoughtful. "Do you have a place to stay?" she asked.

"I was headin' out to get a room later today," I said. I'd been billeted at the base, but I didn't wanna go back there, and besides I need to get a job."

"Then it's settled," she mused.

"Settled?"

"Yes, you're staying here, at least until you can find a job and get your own place," she said.

Her tone of voice let me know that arguing was not an option, and besides, I had no inclination to argue. She was a good looking babe, and I was open to all possibilities. "That would be a big break for me," I said, sincerely.

She changed clothes and we headed out for lunch. The restaurant was a converted garden-this girl was into plants. We took a table in a shady spot off to one side. We conversed for two hours. In that time we shared most of the salient facts about each other.

I was born in California just south of L.A. She was from Columbus, Ohio, but had moved to Georgia to take advantage of a job opportunity: she managed an art deco shop in the center of town. She had two sisters that still lived in Ohio: one was younger and married; the other was several years older and single. Alana too was single and unattached. Me, I sure as hell was unattached; and I had no family other than the guys I'd served with. She was educated: a B.A. in art history. I was an ex-Ranger, or soon to be, with some skill as a mechanic.

We headed out. "Where would you like to go?" she said. "How about the park?"

I'd had no chance to answer, but I figured that would be all right if she didn't expect me to do a lot of walking. I was still a little weak especially after more than two weeks in the hospital.

"Sure, let's do it," I said.

"We walked along one of the paths, and the little brook made nice, I might say romantic, sounds while we did so. She took my hand, and led me kicking and screaming along. Actually, I'm only kidding about the kicking and screaming part.

She stopped me-us. She turned to me. She kissed me, on the lips. It was a delicate kiss, and one I would remember at odd times for years afterwards; first kisses are special.

We found a bench and sat down. I figured it was time for me to stop being a pussy. I pulled her to me and kissed her, my hand rested on her thigh; she didn't try to remove it. I moved it higher.

We kissed and hugged, gently, and let our hands roam free. Her breasts were large and her butt was broad, a little too broad, but that's the way I like 'em; it's soooo female.

My hand strayed up her thigh and under her skirt. Jesus she was hot to the touch. I pulled away and looked around. It was late in the afternoon, and it was warm. Few people were out and none right near us. I stood, took her hand, and led her to a dark little copse maybe fifty feet behind the bench we were on.

I stripped off my shirt and laid it down for her to sit on. The grass was soft and thick, but I wanted to make a statement. Bare chested, the still healing scar from the recent stabbing was clearly visible. We dropped to our knees, and she touched it, then kissed it. It seemed to hold a fascination for her.

"That scar makes you mine you know," she said. "Or maybe it's me that is yours."

"Either way works for me," I said. She slowly undressed for me and then lay back naked back on my shirt and the strewn clothes that she'd been wearing. I was totally enamored of her. I had never been with a woman as sexually exciting as she was, and I had never been with a woman whose pubic area was completely bare. I finished undressing and lay down beside her.

I leaned in to kiss her. I laid my hand on her breast very lightly. Moving my lips to her nipples I took first one and the other into my mouth and suckled on them. She was making little bucking movements coaxing me to do her. I moved between her legs and loomed above her.

"Yes, my poor poor man do me, do me now," she almost gasped. I poked at her. I drove all six inches into her, but slowly; I wanted to savor the moment. Soon I was pumping in and out of her. "Oh yes, don't stop, lover, don't stop. Fuck me good and proper."

I painted her insides with cum and she arched to drag from me every nano-sperm she could. I pulled out. She pushed me on my back and straddled my face. She leaned down and took me in her mouth. I was looking straight into her well fucked pussy and smears of my cum covered her there. I leaned up and kissed, then licked, then sucked her cunt trying to rob her of every trace of my leavings. She had me hard in minutes with her mouth. She rolled off of me, knelt, and bent over. It was a clear invitation to take her from behind.

I crawled behind her and licked her some more. I let my lips travel a little farther north, and I licked and sucked her anus glorying in it. God she was wonderful! I knew I could easily have fallen in love with this creature. No, that's not right; I was in love with her.

"Was it good for you?" I asked, smiling like a possum as we lay still naked beside each other in the little glen between the bushes.

"Oh my yes," she said. I looked at her closely now. I looked at her with objective eyes, not eyes glazed with lust only. Her ribs still showed faint yellowish patches where her assailants had kicked or punched her. There was a brown bruise on her neck too; she had clearly been throttled, probably to shut her up while they took her.

I felt funny laying there with her. I hardly knew her, yet we had shared the most intimate kind of moment that two people could. No, not the sex we had just had, though that had been plenty intimate; no, it was the life and death experience that we had been lucky enough to have survived just weeks earlier.

Alana was a tall woman, maybe five-ten, taller than me by three or four inches at least. She was not a slim woman, but certainly not fat. She had a nice body at a shapely 140 or so pounds. She was my kind of woman. She had light brown hair and a porcelain complexion that was almost baby-like. Her lips were full and her hips, again, broad and feminine. Her eyes were gray or light blue; I could never quite make up my mind, but they were mesmerizing. The package was wonderful; it was to me. While I'm at it…

I'm five-seven or so. Because of my lifestyle and my Ranger training I was steel hard-bodied. I could fight as well as any welter weight amateur champion, which I had been, regionally, as a youth. I am light haired but not actually blond. As for my looks, I have to be the prototype for average.

Her personality was on the bossy side, but I liked women who valued themselves and knew their worth; she clearly had and did both. This was a woman who knew what she wanted. She also knew how to fuck. Could she love me? It wasn't long before I found out.

We didn't go to dinner that first night; we went to bed. Oh, and it wasn't because we were tired. But, we sure as hell were tired in the morning; that's what comes from screwing all night and not getting any sleep.

I moved in officially the next day. I was put up in the guest room of the three bedroom home. The reason was that she wanted to give me some privacy, and I extrapolated, get some for herself.

We lived as border and landlordess with benefits for the next few months. The "L" word never passed between us, but that was about to change. It was a rainy evening. She came home from her work at the art place, as I called it, a little bit late, around 7:00PM. I'd gotten off my job at Selwin Motors, where I was now a fully certificated master mechanic, at the usual time of 5:00PM and decided to cook dinner for us. I had a motive behind such madness.

"Wow, Blake, dinner? Did I forget an occasion or something?" she said kinda playfully.

"No-well yes," I said.

"And that would be?" she said.

"I'll tell you over dinner," I said. I had set the table and as she went up stairs to get ready. And, I got ready. I had my speech memorized, and this was the night. I'd even disconnected the phone so as not to be interrupted. Oh yes, I was prepared. Rangers are always prepared. We might get killed, but it would never be because we weren't prepared for the challenge.

She came down about twenty minutes later. She looked nice, not exactly a novelty for her.

We ate, I poured us glasses of her favorite wine, burgundy. Just as she finished her first sip, I rose, went around the table and got down on my knees.

"Alana, I need to tell you that I have fallen in love with you, and I pray you will make me the happiest man on earth and be my wife," I said. And, I said it without stumbling all over the words. She stared at me in disbelief. I almost laughed.

"Blake-I-I… " I was getting a bad feeling.

"Alana? I mean did I do wrong? I thought… " Suddenly I could think of nothing to say. I was-embarrassed. She looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"Oh my no, my darling man. No, you did not do wrong. But, Blake, you know so little about me. Please," she said, indicating the seat I had so recently occupied. I did as she asked and retook my seat. "Let me tell you some things. Then, if you like you can respond. Would that be all right?"

I couldn't talk, but I nodded.

"Blake, I am not who or what you think I am. I'm a free spirit. I love men. No, that's dishonest; I love cock. Until I met you I screwed anything with a third leg. I'm a slut, Blake.

"That said, since I met you I have been monogamous. That's been some months now, and I can't believe it myself that I have had no hankering after any strange. It might be that I will never hanker after it again, but frankly, Blake, I don't trust myself. If the ache in my loins returns, I will disappoint you, Blake, and I couldn't stand that.

"Do you know what I was doing in the alley that night you saved me? I was getting ready to give one of those two assholes a blowjob. Then, his friend showed up, and they decided to beat and rape me instead. Then, you showed up and saved me. My knight in shining armour. I have been so in love with you since that night that nothing and no one has even tempted me, not even a little bit. You're every little girl's dream; do you know that?

"But if we married, would our romance get a little bit stale after a while; I mean like it does for almost every married couple? And if it did, and if I strayed, could you forgive me? Could I forgive myself for betraying the man that saved my life? Such an unholy risk my poor poor man," she said, finally.

"Alana, I could forgive you anything. I'll admit I don't-couldn't ever share you, but that said; oh for godssakes, I just love you so much! Honey, your past is what it is, as is mine. I am willing to take the risk. If we need to we will get counseling or something, whatever it takes. I ask again. Will you marry me?"

******

It was a gamble. I wasn't a fool. After what she'd said, I almost knew she'd go astray as she phrased it. Sooner or later she'd wrong me. I gritted my teeth and told myself that I would deal with that eventuality when is happened. At that moment, I had to have her, possess her; she had to be mine. I'd always been a fighter, and this was not different except in kind. I would fight the good fight when the time came, and I was betting on me to come out the one with the raised arm.

We were married, in front of a justice of the peace, three weeks after that evening.

The first nine years of the marriage were not good; they were spectacular, at least for me; and, I believe for Alana too. Two children had come along in quick succession in the second and third years of the marriage: Miranda and Shelby. Their parents adored them and the clan was happy.

It was after Shelby started school that Alana decided that she wanted to go back to work. She'd found a job at an art studio and it seemed to satisfy her. I was happy for her. The job was not taxing, she only worked four hours a day, and those in the morning: eight to twelve. Plus the extra money, though not critical for us, since I was doing quite well, was useful.

Some months, maybe a year into her new job, she started working longer hours. She was always to pick up the kids from school, and for my part I hardly noticed anything at all. Then one day I found her sitting in the living room with a glass of burgundy in her hand waiting for me. The kids were in the yard playing.

"Hi sailor," she said, as I walked in all grubby and smelly after a long day in the pit.

"Hi back atcha," I said. She was smiling, but for some reason or no reason I felt uneasy.

I sat down beside her and gave her a hungry kiss which she returned enthusiastically. "Got a surprise today," she said, pulling back a bit.

"A surprise?" I said.

"Yes. There's an art show in San Francisco, and the boss, Gordon, has invited me to accompany him and the artist there," she said, all bubbly and happy. "We'll be gone maybe four or five days. Isn't it exciting?"

I looked at her, not real happy. But, what could I say. "Yeah, I guess," I said, my lack of enthusiasm obvious.

"Ah, honey, it's only for a few days, and it is a really good opportunity for me to see some really good stuff. We have shows here in Georgia, of course, but not like on the coast," she said.

We talked for some time, and I eventually fell into line. She'd never had an opportunity like this, or so she said, so how could I in good conscience be a pooper.

I learned that she would be leaving Saturday afternoon and returning Tuesday or Wednesday evening. Well, the kids and I would do something special on the weekend, I decided.

On Saturday, the kids and I took Alana to the airport, had lunch with her there, and then we waved goodbye to her as she went upstairs to await her companions in the departure lounge. I had a bad feeling. But, I had the children with me, and that was a plus.

Late Saturday evening, she called. She let me know they'd arrived safely and gave me the number to the hotel she'd be staying at in case of emergency. She did say to call her on her cell for anything else though.

I had taken up working out with some buddies of mine from my days in the rangers: Mark Hutchins and Gary Chapin. I was of the unscientific opinion that working out helped keep me in shape including helping me to protect my good eye by increasing my circulation and such. I was certainly buff after a decade of it. We all were. We were the three musketeers, twenty-first century edition. We all became experts with the yawara too, a not very well known or understood invention of the Japanese.

The yawara was a very short stick, ours three-fifths of an inch in diameter and four and a half inches long. Someone who knew how to use one could not lose a fight if he or she got the first unprotected strike in; the operative term was "could not," literally.

We always practiced together at the park on Sundays for an hour no matter what, and the rest of the week on our own. And, we always took our children with us. They kinda did what we did, after they practiced the things we wanted them too. Both Shelby my seven year old, and Miranda, eight, were tough little kids; but, respectful. Neither had ever been in a school brawl-as far as I knew.

"Daddy daddy," said Miranda. "Mr. Hutchins says I did very good today." She was all smiles, and so was I.

"That's great, baby. Now got get your brother so we can get going," I said. Shelby was still with Mark and they looked like complementary shadows of each other as they repeated over and over the Shotei form. Gary, who'd finished his routine, stood near the duo and smiled broadly. His fourteen year-old son Arthur was laying on the ground near Karen, Gary's thirteen year-old daughter. The two of them were completely fagged out. I think they were in love too.

The kids and I headed for zoo after having breakfast at the IHOP. The day was a great success, and we all hit the hay early after dinner. Alana called, at 6:00, and spoke to the children then me. She sounded exhausted.

"Yes, honey, I am exhausted. The elevators were out for an hour for servicing because of a small fire on the ground floor," she said. "They put it out in a hurry, but I didn't want to wait, so I decided to walk up the nine flights of stairs," she said. I laughed.

"I told you that you should be working out with me and the kids," I said, making light of her plight. We talked a while. She explained what she'd seen and how wonderful it all was. Well, she was an art lover.

After hanging up, the bad feeling I'd had since hearing about her trip returned with a vengeance. Then, I did something unconscionable: I called the hotel and asked about the fire in the lobby. My heart sank when they told me that I must be mistaken; there had never been a fire at that hotel. Why would she lie? Without any more evidence than that, I began to suspect that my wife was having sex while she talked to me. Helluva thing the human mind.

Tuesday evening the kids and I picked up my wife at the airport. Amidst the excitement that the kids exhibited, my somewhat less than thrilled greeting went unnoticed.

We had sex that night. She did her best to make me happy that she was back. I guess I was, but I also had questions. Questions that I couldn't ask, not yet at any rate.

******

The following week was normal except for two things on Tuesday and Thursday night respectively, Alana had to work late. She didn't get home till after 9:00PM. In all of the time she had been working she had never been later than 6:30-ever. Add to that that on both nights, she showered when she got home and pled fatigue to my overtures for sex. My eyes narrowed; I was pretty sure she was having an affair. No, I had no clear evidence, and even the lie about the hotel fire might still somehow be explained; but I was pretty sure I was right.

The following Tuesday night, Mark and his wife Elizabeth, who were also neighbors, had the kids for evening. I was parked across from the Art Shop where my wife worked. My heart took a very bad hit that night. Mr. Gordon Crowder had his arms around my wife and was kissing her passionately while I watched the scene unfold through the window; the store was closed and the lights were out except for the security lights behind the two of them; they were clearly visible. Ten minutes later they exited the building, got into his car and drove off. I followed.

The Pine Tree motel does not have a restaurant, but it does have rooms. They got one together and went inside. I went home.

I'd already picked up the kids and now I waited. Murder crossed my mind. But before I killed her boss I wanted to have it out with her. And no, I had not forgotten her concern in the beginning when I had asked her to marry me. Now, I wondered how long and how many. She showed up at about 9:45.

I was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. She stopped when she saw me.

"Blake?"

"Yeah, it's me," I said, and took a sip of tea.

"Is something wrong?" she said.

"I don't know," I said. "You tell me."

"Huh?"

"Well we can start with, how was your night at the Pine Tree?"

Here face went white. Her shoulders sagged. "You know?" I didn't answer.

"I'm sorry, Blake. It has nothing to do with you or us. It was just sex. I warned you that I might not be able to forego sex with other men. I've tried to keep you from discovering me, but I guess I've blown it haven't I?" she said.

"It was the trip wasn't it?" she said. "I knew that wasn't a good idea. I even thought of taking you along so you wouldn't get suspicious. But Gordon was adamant. He wanted me for the whole trip, and you would have complicated things for him. Shit!" she exclaimed.

"What's the attraction?" I asked, in a slow methodically cold tone. "He's not that big a guy. He isn't especially good looking. What was the attraction?"

"His cock. It's ten inches long," she said. "And he knows how to use it."

"What about us? I mean now that I know?" I knew I was testing the waters, pushing it; but, I wasn't sure that I cared anymore, not after finding out what I had found out.

"You're asking if I will promise to stop seeing him. My answer is no. You'll just have to deal with it, I'm afraid. I don't mean to hurt you, Blake. I really don't. But, I am not going to outright lie to you. He's going to get to fuck me, and that's all there is to it," she said.

Her matter-of-fact tone was so cold and cruel that I considered teaching her a lesson right then. But, I have never hit a woman, and if this is the way it was going to be, I was going to have to think of something else. Good 'ole Gordon of course was a totally 'nother matter; he was in grave danger, and neither he nor my whoring wife had a clue.

I took another sip of tea. "Blake? Are you all right?" She seemed to be having second thoughts at least about the coldness of her words to me. "Jesus, Blake, I'm such an asshole. You saved my life and I treat you like shit."

I still didn't say anything. I just sat there sipping tea and getting madder and madder every second. My silence was getting to her. "Blake? Aren't you going to say anything?" I remained silent. Rangers were good at psychological warfare, and the battle had been joined.

She came to me and tapped me on the shoulder. "Blake, say something. For godssakes say something." I didn't. I just kept looking past her. She changed her tactics.

"Well, if you've got nothing to say, I'm going to bed. Don't bother joining me until you're willing to talk to me," she said. I didn't even look up.

I didn't move until I heard the bedroom door slam. Good, I thought, she's off balance. Now, I have the initiative. She'd crushed my heart. And, not by the cheating per se. No, it was her heartless attitude about what I could do if I didn't like it. It was obviously her dictum that it would be her way or the highway. The way I saw it at that moment, the worst case scenario, was gonna be that the highway would hurt her more.

******

That night, and every night for the next month, I slept on the couch. I didn't flinch when she called to say she was going to be late Tuesdays and Thursdays as usual. We both knew she was fucking him those nights. And, then she began adding Saturdays to her schedule. This last, I was pretty sure, to push me to talk to her.

I did talk to her: about the kids, the house, the job, everything; but not about her whoring around on me. She was becoming skittish. She knew first-hand what I was capable of. I saw her look worriedly at me when I was working in the yard. My cold demeanor must have had her wondering when the shit was going to hit the fan.

The supreme irony was, that as I let things continue, my hatred grew, but so did my sadness. I loved this woman with all of my being. And, I was pretty sure she loved me almost as much. She just wanted to have her cake and eat it too.

Had I talked to her, I know she would have tried to convince me that her liaisons were nothing but sex; that they had nothing to do with us as a married couple. It made me smile inwardly when I thought of the scenarios that sooner or later would be played out. The charade went on for almost a year.

We had not had sex once during the whole time, and I had not, during that time, cheated on her or said so much as one word to her or to her asshole lover about their adultery. I had however, with the assistance of Gary and Mark, gotten a busload of evidence in case of a divorce. We were also grinding it out to find as much evidence as we could against Mr. Gordon Crowder of other things he might be guilty of. We worked on the premise that absolutely everyone had something to hide. The work was slow, but it definitely was sure.

Every state but New York is a no fault state, so to guarantee that I could have custody of the children; I had to have near incontrovertible evidence of her unfitness as a mother. This was going to be a tough nut. But now I was close to getting it.

I had been kinda surprised that she hadn't divorced me! I knew she was angry and frustrated with me. She did mention divorcing me a couple of times, but I just walked away without so much as acknowledging her words. But, then, finally, I caught a break.

Again, I think she was trying to force me to talk to her and agree that her fucking around on me wasn't so bad. She kicked me out. No talk of divorce. She just said to get out until I would talk to her and try to solve our differences-read agree to her demands.

This time I looked her in the eyes as mine teared up. I was genuinely saddened by her move, but I also realized it was an opportunity. I went up stairs and began packing a couple of suitcases. I heard her on the phone when I came out of the room. She was in the kitchen, but I could hear her side of the conversation easily.

"Your idea sucked, Gordon… no… he's leaving… no damn it… he's leaving don't you hear me… no I said… no… when? what?… you have got to be kidding you're not half the man he is except for your dick… you?… hahaha… one on one with him… yeah right… you'd last about as long as a fart in a typhoon… no… forget it… we have to cool it for a while… yes, but not any time soon… I have to get my man back… yes… goodbye."

I came down the stairs and she was waiting for me by the door. "Blake, I apologize. I made a mistake. Please don't leave," she said. I pushed by her.

"Goodbye," I said. And, I left.

I wound up at the Pine Tree. The same motel that she and her fuck buddy had frequented. I even got the same room they'd used at least that one time. The place had no restaurant, but it had the virtues of being cheap, close to my work, and it had a bar next door.

******

Alana sat on the bench at the back of the house. She wasn't sure whether she felt sorrier for herself or for him! Her tears hadn't stopped since he had left. She felt like a complete asshole. Her man, the one who had protected her, saved her; and had since married her, fed her, clothed her-and yes-loved her; she'd fucked him over. And for what! A bigger cock. Selfish-no, that in no way adequately described her-she was a douche bag, a vile thing.

And yet-it was his choice. He would have wanted for nothing from her; she wanted to be with him, love him, adore him. He had never wanted for anything, she rationalized. Gordon had not had her anus, but Blake had. Gordon had not ever heard her utter the L word, but Blake heard it every day. How could there be any doubt in her husband's mind that she loved him? And she had told him, argued with him, tried to convince him years ago that she was a slut. He either hadn't heard her or didn't care; but now of course he did care. What could she do? She didn't even know where he had gone. And what of the children. Oh, God this was a mess.

It was a week later that the doorbell rang. She'd just gotten the kids off to school and gotten back.

"Hi babe," said the tall, dark haired man with the mustache.

"Gordon! I thought I told you we'd have to cool it for a while," she said.

"Yeah, but call me horny," he said. "And, you can't hang around here moping forever. We need to get you out and doing," he said.

She knew what he wanted her to do. But the timing couldn't have been worse. Still, she did feel cooped up and hopeless. A couple of drinks somewhere would be nice. "No sex for you today, Gordon. I just can't do it. But, I suppose we could go for a couple of drinks. I could sure use one right about now," she said.

"Sounds cool to me," he said. "No pressure. We'll just have a couple of drinks and you can talk it out with me."

"God knows I do need someone to listen," she said. "Blake sure isn't willing to. I don't even know where he is. I'm going nuts!"

"He'll be back soon. Trust me," said Gordon. "For the kids if not for his honey. I know guy's like him: all domestic and everything. He actually believes that sex equals love."

She gave him a dirty look. But, thinking about it, Gordon was right. He'd been gone a week. It figured he'd be calling before much longer. He'd wanna make some kind of deal, arrangement to see the kids. She'd take the opportunity to try and get him to finally talk to her.

For a single fleeting moment, she saw the incongruity of her wanting to set things right with her husband on the one hand, and going out for drinks with her lover on the other. But the feeling was gone before it had a chance to take root.

She changed and they headed for the Pine Tree Lounge.

******

Gary arrived at the Pine Tree motor lodge at noon just as planned. He had the envelope. He knocked on 103.

"Hi, Gary," I said

"You okay, man?" said Gary entering the room. "Kinda cheap for you isn't it?"

"It's the one they used to fuck me over in," I said. "It has sentimental value, you might say," I said, as bitterly as I had ever said anything. "You got 'em?"

"Oh yeah. He's stealing from where he works. He's a driver. Delivers different stuff. But he sells about five percent of it before he ever gets to his delivery point. Don't know how long he's been doing it, but an audit will show it for sure," said Gary.

"Film at eleven?" I said.

"Oh yeah, audio too. He's going to jail sure," said Gary.

"Where's Mark?" I asked.

"Doin' like you asked. He's delivering the evidence to the company's bosses. I figure he oughta be done about now," he said.

"How'd you get all this stuff?" I said.

"Simple, we followed the asshole. He isn't very bright. I'm surprised he hasn't been caught already. The guy's a real moron. Gotta be borderline retarded, and I'm not sure about the borderline part," said Gary.

"Blake, whaddya gonna do? Mark and I are worried about yuh, man? You need to stop being holed up here and get out some.

"You even seen your kids, man?" he said.

"No. I ain't seen 'em since I left a week ago. I do miss 'em," I said. "I guess I'm gonna have to go back. I hate to show up there with my tail between my legs, but I can't stay away from my babies too long or she might turn 'em against me."

"Nah, I ain't seein' that," said Gary. "I know you ain't gonna wanna be hearin' it, but I known babes like Alana before, lots of 'em. They love their husbands right enough; they just don't see the harm in a little strange on the side. No man, she loves you; problem is she just doesn't see what's right.

"Alana's smart in some ways, but not in others. When it comes to sex, she's a moron," said Gary, with finality.

"Yeah, well that's the problem, ain't it?" I said. "My problem is, how do I fix it? And, do I even want to now she's fucked me over?" I said.

"Anyway, I think it's time for a drink. Whaddya say," I said. "There's a bar next door."

******

The two men were seated at the bar. When they came in.

"Jesus," said Gary.

"Huh?" I said.

"Blake, buddy," said Gary, holding his friends gaze. "I want you to look me right in the eyes. What do you see there?"

"Huh? What are you talking about," I said.

"Blake, take a deep breath and be cool. Your wife just walked in with her boyfriend," Said Gary. He grabbed my arm making it difficult for me to swivel around. But straining, I looked over my shoulder and saw her. Her and her lover boy. She didn't see me right away, and then she did.

Alana's hand shot up and covered her mouth. Even so, I could make out the words she was mouthing behind it: "Oh my God, no!" she silently cried.

The asshole looked where she was looking and a smile crept over his face. My face, on the other hand, darkened. I stared with dead eyes at them. Alana reached out toward me with her arm. I sneered.

"Fuck you," I said so softly that she had to read my lips to understand me. Then I looked over at him and pointed at him. He just spread his feet and crossed his arms in an I dare you' pose that almost got him killed; he just didn't know it.

Gary was looking down at the floor. I was a mix of emotions. I was humiliated. The boyfriend was may six-foot and I was five six; my wife was considerably taller than me especially in high heels; she was wearing heels now. The picture was not flattering to me. The one thing I was sure of was, that after his legs were broken, mister Gordon Ten Inch was going to be a lot closer to the ground than was the case at the moment.

Gary saw it coming and grabbed me hard and tight. "No," he said. "The motherfucker is going to jail. Bide your time," said Gary. I looked at him. The wisdom of his words finally registering. I nodded. I pointed to the asshole again. He just smirked. Oh, how I wanted him right then. Instead I had to slink out like a cur dog with my tail between my legs. God it was embarrassing, humiliating.

Alana had watched the tableau and I thought she might have been crying. But, at that moment, I hated the mother of my children, and that scared me. I was very close to killing them both. And while the asshole didn't realize it, I think my wife did.

I walked out of the bar without looking back. Getting to my car, I fumbled with my keys; I dropped them. Leaning down to pick them up, I heard her.

"Blake, my God I'm sorry," she said. "I am so sorry. But, Blake were weren't doing anything, nor were we going to. He was just buying me a drink because I was so upset and sad about you leaving."

I turned and looked at her. "You kicked my ass out," I said. "So what's your problem."

"I did not," she said. "Well, I did, but I took it back. I apologized for being too-too-something."

"Try cruel and unyielding," I said.

"Blake! I want to make it up to you. I owe you," she said.

Her words filled me with so much anger I could barely contain myself. "You let me fuck you. Consider the debt paid," I said. "And, hell, I would have saved you even without payment. So just go fuck yourself, or let your fuck buddy do it for you," I said.

I was breaking down. My voice was cracking. Then the worst moment of my life occurred; I started sobbing without restraint. My chest heaved, my heart broke, the dam burst. All of it gushed forth wordless and wet. She came to me and put her arms around me. For a moment I felt safe and loved. Then, what and who was happening to me came back to me. I shrugged her off, violently. She stumbled backwards. "Get away from me," I said, between sobs. If I had not been humiliated before, I was now.

I heard her cry out as I got into the car and drove off, "Blake, I love you. Come home to me."

Gary as it turned out had kept lover boy pinned down inside while Alana and I played out our scene. Just as my car pulled out of the lot lover boy made his appearance. Gary was right on his heels.

"Get the fuck out of my way butthead," said Gordon to Gary.

Now, Gary is not a small man like me. He's maybe five-ten and one-seventy-five. Again, not small, but not as big as lover boy. But he held his temper. "You have no idea how close you came to leaving this veil of tears fuckwad. You really ought to memorize the Act of Contrition for future reference," said Gary.

Alana had a thought. She knew Gary well. He was always at our family do's and so was his wife. She came over to him.

"Gary, please, I fucked up. Tell him I love him. He won't listen to me. Tell him at the very least he must come home to see his babies," she said.

"I'll tell him," said Gary. "But you better get asshole there out of town. Blake is real angry. And, thanks to you, he's also hurt, Alana. Hurt real bad."

"You tell that wimp… " Gordon started to say. Gary reached back and slapped him so hard that Gordon spun around and nearly fell to the ground, barely righting himself at the last second.

"Say anything about my bud again, and you're going to make me disappoint him," said Gary.

"Huh?" said the asshole.

"Yeah, because I'm going to kill you myself." Gary turned and left to call a cab for himself since his ride had cut country.

******

I got a visit from a slightly miffed Gary that very afternoon. I'd forgotten that he had no car. I'd abandoned him there to face the "adultery is us" club by his lonesome. I apologized; I wasn't thinking, not good anyway. I chuckled at the story of him handling good 'ole Gordon. But, on the more serious side, Alana had made her point too. I did have to see the babies. If it meant showing up like some wimp cuck boy without choices, then so be it. Sooner or later I knew I'd have to come to terms with my wife. It looked like it was going to be sooner.

I arrived at the house the next day at five o'clock.

******

"Daddy daddy daddy!" screamed the kids. We hugged, and I cried, and they smiled, and then we talked. We talked about school and their friends and everything. And then they pinned me.

"Daddy come home to us," said Shelby. "Momma wants you too; she said so." I started to cry again, but I choked it off. Jesus I was becoming such a pussy.

"Uhhuh," said Miranda, "it's true, daddy."

Alana came into the room for the first time. She'd left us alone to that point, but whether she'd planned it or not, this was the point at which she made her entrance, and I had to believe she'd thought it out and engineered it to be to her best advantage and purpose.

"Daddy is coming home to us, kids, starting tonight," she pronounced. "We all want you back, Blake. The kids and especially me."

I looked at her. She could read my thoughts of that there was no doubt. "Blake, I'm sorry for everything. Please don't disappoint us. We need and love you. We do," she said. Her tone was sincere; her actions the previous day and before were however not indicative of sincerity, not the right kind at any rate.

I bit the bullet and nodded. The babies were my reason. How long I'd stay was iffy. Probably till the next mistake on my wife's part. Okay, I wimped out. But any daddy in the situation I was in knows what I was feeling even if they wouldn't agree with my actions.

Alana and I would be talking it over in less than two hours.

******

"I talked to the kids before you came, Blake. I want you to know that. We kinda sandbagged you, but in a good way. I made sure they let you know how much they wanted you back and in their lives. I mean actively in their lives," she said.

"As for me, it's all I've been thinking about since you left," she said.

"Hmm, and that little scene at the lounge. You weren't out with your fuck buddy to-well fuck?" I said.

"No, I wasn't and he knew it. I'd been depressed since you left. I needed a drink, a lot of them truth told. He came by and invited me out for that reason. Then, of all of the places we might have ended up-well you can imagine my surprise. It was doubtless not a lot unlike yours," she said.

I smirked, "I guess not," I said finally. "So here we are, and where exactly is that. I still can't get my head around what you're doing. I still am not going to tolerate it. I can't. I know what I said when we first got engaged, but that was then and this is now. So, is good 'ole Gordon your man or I am; you can't have me and him too, not at all. Are you getting that?"

"I'm getting it. But I have a question for you, if I may," she said. "What is sex to you? Does it define us? Does it define our marriage?"

I thought for a second. "For me it is the sharing of the most intimate and secret of things that are us. It is a means by which we create our babies. It is a very important way that I show my love for you, my wife." I rested my case.

She nodded. "It is those things for me too, Blake," she said. "But those things all of them are part of the commitment that I give to you and only to you. Take away that commitment and its permanence, and sex becomes that thing we did when we were teenagers and a million miles from anything really important. It becomes merely a game that kids play, a little more intimate and serious, but still only a game. The boys have a name for the game, it's called 'Wham Bam Thank You Ma'am.' You've played it Blake; you've told me you have."

"Yes, that's true. All you say is true. But there is one little thing you left out, Alana. You forgot to mention anything about the sanctity of wedding vows. Keeping those for me ends the games. It initiates a relationship of trust and true love-not puppy love or any games or any of it. It comes with something else that teenagers don't have much of-responsibility," I said.

"So, I have a question for you, now. Is that okay?" I said.

"Yes. Ask away?" she said.

"Where does my coming home now leave Gordon? Is he or any other man going to be screwing my woman?" I said.

The question came at an inopportune time in the conversation. She wasn't ready for it. "He's-I guess he's history," she said.

"Does he know that? Am I going to be walking in on phone calls? Am I going to be driving by a motel sometime and notice your car parked next to his? Do not lie to me, Alana, and tell me now," I said.

"Honestly, we haven't talked since yesterday at the Pine Tree, so no he doesn't know that. I told him then that we'd have to cool it for a while. I knew you were hurt, and I knew my job would be to salve that hurt.

"And, yes I know what you're going to say. Cooling it for a while is not making him history. Well, that was then and this is now as you say. I am not giving you up. So as of this moment he's history," she said.

She surprised me. She got up and went into the kitchen. She came back with the carry-phone. She dialed.

"Yeah, it's me," she said. Whoever was on the other end was speaking. "No, and never again. My man is home. He's sitting across the room from me right now… no not ever… umhuh… you'll have to find yourself a wife… he does not understand our relationship and no he's not going to try… no don't call anymore… please… please… respect my wishes in this… it's over… Yeah you too," she hung up.

"Another question. Given that good 'ole Gordon is history, what about other men? One night stands? Quickies in a bar, any of it?" I said.

"I'm gonna say never again, Blake. And, I'm gonna try. But, you have to help me. I'm a habitual, a born slut. You are really going to have to help me… " She had more to say but she was finding it hard. In my heart of hearts I knew she couldn't keep her resolve. Oh, I was sure she meant to, but I was almost certain it was beyond her. Well, for now it was going to be one for the kids.

******

I was at work the day after our sit down and my move back into the house. On the weekend, Saturday, Mark and Gary both came by with their wives and kids and we had a barbecue. It was a good time.

Nothing more was heard from good 'ole Gordon. Alana quit her job at the art shop and took a full time job at an art supply house. The hourly pay was better too. I was feeling pretty good, safer. Every once in a while I thought I detected a wistful look from Alana, but I was also willing to admit to a certain touch of paranoia, so maybe not.

I was having lunch about a mile from work at the behest of my pard at the shop, Roger Cord. The restaurant was one of those that had almost black windows the kind you usually see on cars. You can see out, but not in. We were seated next to the window. We were about half done eating when a beautiful woman walked down the sidewalk and was met by a man immediately outside the window from our booth. Had the window not been there we could have reached out and touched them. They embraced and kissed.

The woman was tall and athletic, maybe mid-thirties. The man was very tall, I'd guess six-six and maybe two-eighty. Looked like he could have been a defensive end for somebody. I smiled.

"She sure is a looker," said. Roger. "I wouldn't mind getting a piece of that."

I smiled. "Want me to fix you up," I said.

He laughed. "You know her?"

"Yeah, I do," I said. "She's my wife. She'll do anybody. We'll be divorced soon, so if you want I'll ask her for you."

Roger spewed a swallow of coke all over the table. "Jesus, Blake! That's not funny."

"Maybe not, but it is my wife," I said. I was facing the entrance when the couple entered. They were halfway to our table when she saw me. She also saw that I'd had a clear view of what had happened on the sidewalk outside.

"Oh my God! Blake!"

"Yeah, it's me," I said. "You and I have to stop meeting this way." The man gave me a menacing look. He was twice my size—literally, and his contempt for me was palpable.

"You know this shrimp?" he said turning to Alana. She just looked horror stricken. I got up from the booth. Threw a twenty down and started to walk out. The big guy grabbed me by the arm. I guess he wanted to impress his date.

I turned and rolled his arm under my arm and snapped it. I broke it at the elbow. He dropped screaming to the floor. I turned to Alana.

"You always date these big guys. Ain't I big enough for you? Hell, I guess not," I said, answering my own question.

"Blake, we've got to talk. It's not what you think… " We could hear sirens in the distance. The place was crawling with cops before I could even get out the door.

They cuffed me, but after interviewing a few witnesses, including Roger, they let me go. A paramedic unit attended to son of Kong, and we left. Alana shadowed me all the way to my truck.

"Blake, we have to talk. It's not what you're thinking," she said. I couldn't believe she'd actually said that. For the moment I was amused. Later I would undoubtedly break down, but for the moment the humor of the situation was dominant.

"And the scene of the sidewalk?" I said. She just stared and said nothing. Roger and I left.

******

I moved out as soon as I got home that evening. Alana didn't fight me. I guess she knew that the jig was up. She couldn't or wouldn't end her habits, and I definitely would not put up with it anymore.

I was amused when she told me that the guy I'd dropped had been coming on to her at the supermarket off and on for weeks. But she had always put him off. Finally, on the one day that I'd decided to have lunch away from work; she had decided to let him fuck her. They were heading for a motel right after lunch. That they'd decided to have lunch where I was having lunch was a fluke. Some god was either looking after me or mad at her; neither of us was sure which, but the marriage was over.

"You hurt him pretty bad," said Alana.

"He was too big to play with. I had to drop him," I said. "His bad luck."

"Well, he'll be eating left handed for a while," she said.

"Blake I'm sorry. I am who I am, and I guess I always will be. All I can say is I'm sorry. I won't fight the divorce. And we'll share the kids," she said.

I just nodded. I was mad and relieved and sad and everything. It had been a long road, and we'd reached its end.

I did talk to the children. Said I needed to get a place of my own, and that they would be able to visit anytime and all of the time. They didn't like it, but they gave me tacit approval when I told them I was going to take them to the movies on Saturday and be doing other stuff every week.

This time I met Gary and Mark and Roger, my bud from work, at the Pine Tree. It had become kinda our place to hang out. I kept looking at the door half expecting to see Alana and some new man or maybe even Gordon come through it. But this time it was not happening.

A week after I moved out Gordon was arrested. I'd almost forgotten about good 'ole Gordy. But he ate the weenie big time. If he was shocked, Alana was even more so. She attended his trial and kinda held his spear as he went down for a nickel.

I learned later that she visited him in jail. It was a maudlin scene. I think that they were actually falling in love with each other. All of that stuff she'd handed me about him not meaning anything to her went by the boards, I guess. Maybe she needed someone who understood her-special-needs. Someone like her. I suppose the good news was that she didn't blame me. She knew I'd engineered it, but I wasn't the one who was selling stolen goods. They'd actually caught him putting goods in the back of some guy's pickup.

******

Our divorce was peaceful and final in six months: irreconcilable differences. The kids stayed at the house with Alana. I did get her absolute promise that no man would ever cross that threshold. And I was there every Saturday to see my babies.

"Alana, I will keep to this divorce agreement honorably. You will get the child support you need, and when you need to be out you can count on me to babysit. But no man who is not your husband may ever come into the house. Agreed?"

"I'd already made that same decision," said Alana. "You don't have to worry about that."

"You saw what happened to Gordon, and to that guy at the restaurant. Keep it in mind," I said. "I'll know if you get squirrely on me."

******

Well it was inevitable. Even an idiot like me can get lucky once in a blue moon. And I did, about a year after the divorce. Her name was Kelly Halverson. She worked at the novelty shop next to the Pine Tree, I'd gone in to get a gift for Mark's wife; it was her birthday.

"Will that be all sir?" said the saleslady.

"Your phone number would be nice," I said, rolling closed the top of the bag with my gift in it.

She looked at me strangely, "555 1296," she said. "But, you'd have thought you'd want my name first." She said.

"Got that," I said, "it's on your name plate: Kelly Halverson."

"Oh, I forgot that," she said. "Yours?"

"Blake," I said. "Blake Ritter."

I called her that night. I had reservations in calling her. I was still connected in some pretty serious ways to Alana; divorced but I still had feelings for her, and there were our mutual children. Problem was Alana was connected in a lot of places with a lot of guys, and I couldn't deal with that, so Kelly would get her shot, as I told myself.

I picked her up after her workday and we went to eat. It was supposed to be a get to know you feed. And it was. Maybe I should tell you a little about Kelly.

She was thirty-two; about my height, maybe five-six or seven; a tad overweight for her slim frame; shoulder length brown hair; and a somewhat homely face. All in all, if there is such a thing as an average woman, Kelly was it. But, what she didn't have in terms of classic beauty, she more than made up for in personality. God this woman was interesting. Working her way through nursing school, carrying a full time job, and dating rarely; this was my kind of woman.

"So what about a follow up date," I said, as I walked her to her door that first time.

"You want one?" she asked.

"Huh? Of course, I said.

"I don't get that many second dates. Fact is you're the first man to ask me out in a while," she said. "I mean, I'm not all that pretty; I know it. I'm just me whatever I am," she said.

She was serious. I sensed that this girl had been hurt. Well, we sure as hell shared one thing in common, didn't we, I thought. "Kelly, you're perfect as far as I'm concerned. I don't know your history, but I damn sure wanna take the time to discover it. For that we might need to go on-what-maybe thirty or forty dates. I hope that's all right," I said, smiling broadly.

She looked at me-suspiciously. "Really? You're not just trying to get into my pants for a quickie?"

I laughed out loud. "No guarantees on that one, I probably will, try getting into your pants that is. But never will it be for a wham bam quickie," I said. "I mean if you ever let me, uh, discover you that is."

Over the next weeks we dated regularly scheduling ourselves around the demands of her school. It was about two months from the time that we met that I got lucky. I was walking her up to her door after a night at the movies. She handed me the key. I looked at her funny.

"Well, open it silly, and let us in," she said.

I was surprised, I'd say stunned but that wouldn't be quite right. I knew I was getting close to scoring; we'd done quite a bit of heavy making out up to that point. But, at that moment, I was confused. No, not about her or my willingness, even need, to fuck; but I didn't want to cheat this woman. I didn't want to take her cheaply. If I did use her, the way I figured it I'd have to marry her. She was too precious a person, a woman, to take advantage of. All of a sudden it came to me; I loved her. Jesus-H-Q-Ree-eyest! I loved her.

I opened the door for us and waved my woman in. She walked in and went and stood in front of the couch across the room. I closed the door and stood for a moment. We both knew the other knew what was going to transpire. But Kelly did not know all of what was going to transpire because I had just made a decision; I knew something that she did not.

I walked slowly toward her. I could see she was nervous; hell, so was I. I stopped maybe two feet from her. My hands were at my sides. No words had been uttered since our having come inside. I went down on my knees in front of her.

"Kelly, I love you. Will you marry me?" I asked. Her eyes got as big as dinner plates.

"Wha…?"

"Will you do me the honor of marrying me and becoming my wife?" I said. "I don't have a ring, but this is the moment. I need to ask. I can feel it. We'll pick out the ring together tomorrow if you'll have me."

"Oh Blake honey, of course I'll marry you." She got down on her knees so that we could kiss. And kiss we did, long and hard.

I let myself sink all the way to the floor, and I pulled her down with me. She was crying. "No no, girl, no tears now. Now is the time for passion. We can both have a good cry afterwards," I said.

I felt her hand fondle me through my pants. I kissed her neck and the bit of bare bosom that was exposed above her blouse's neckline. I began to unbutton her blouse and she my shirt. We got in each other's way and laughed. Her bra was easy; it hooked in front-why didn't all bras have that useful feature, I wondered.

I kissed and fondled her breasts, which were a pair beautiful thirty-four B's.

She pulled my pants down and then my underpants; my cock sprang loose and hit her on the cheek. She still had her skirt on. She stood.

"On your knees, young man," she said. I obeyed her. She lifted her skirt. "Do your duty."

I pulled her panties down and kissed her mound. Her fur was just perfect. She smelled of woman. God how I loved the taste of her slit and all it offered. I grasped her hips and turned her around. I kissed her ass cheeks, then her crack. I spread her open and licked her anus.

She bent forward and leaned over onto the couch cushions. She spread her legs for me. She was as wet as I have ever seen a woman be. I licked and loved her orally for some few minutes; then, I rose and moved in behind her.

I probed her pussy and slipped in easily. I pushed and penetrated her with all I had. I began fucking her. She mewed and made guttural noises as I plowed her. I felt her stiffen. She'd had an orgasm. I came two minutes later while she had a follow up cum of her own.

She slipped down to the floor and rested her head on the cushions of the couch. I pulled her back to me, turned her, kissed her and looked into her eyes.

"Let's go to bed, dear heart. I need you all night tonight," I said.

In the bed I took her in the missionary position, and she sucked me hard once more drinking the last drop of my cum. We cuddled and slept.

The morning brought a new day to my life, and to hers. We bought the rings later that day, and we were married at the court house two weeks later.

******

My marriage to Kelly had been accepted well by Alana. The kids called her aunt Kelly, and we were fine with that.

About a year after our marriage, Gordon got out on good behavior. I got a visit from Alana. She wanted to know If Kelly and I could take the kids for a couple of weeks. It was a no brainer for me and I agreed.

"So what's the occasion, Alana," I said.

"Blake, please don't get mad. But… " she was having a hard time getting whatever it was out.

"Alana, just say it. Trust me I won't take it badly," I said.

"Well-Gordon's getting out the day after tomorrow," she said. "We're getting married, Blake," she said. My look must have confused her. I knew she'd been seeing him in prison almost monthly. She'd told me as much whenever we visited or picked up the kids. But marry him? I don't know why I should have been surprised, but I was.

"I see. Alana, I've got no problem with you and him getting hitched. But…"

"Blake, he will not come between you and the kids, I promise. He and I have talked about it. We'll get along just as we have been. It'll just be that we will be adding one more person to the barbecues," she said. He knows we did wrong, and that it's time to get on with our lives. Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay," I said. Just then Kelly came in. "We're gonna have the kids for a couple of weeks babe," I said. "Alana's getting married."

She smiled. It was going to be an interesting future for damn sure.

-----------------------------

   Series:Am I Standing in Your Way
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Flighty wife makes a huge mistake; the road back is long.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/58815/am-i-standing-in-your-way
Published:2008-12-17
"… Last night you both kept dancing

When the music ceased to play

Is it all over, do you still love me

Am I standing in your way…"

(Merle Haggard)

It is such a fucking cliché, what happened to me.

I was a physical ruin as I left work today; I'm a carpet installer. If you've never done it, you have no idea. At any rate I would soon be dropping in at Tribes to imbibe some liquid revitalizer. Tribes is a very large bar with a very small dance floor and a very ancient country music only jukebox to facilitate the hoofers. Most of the patrons are blue collar types and cowboy wannabes. The local constabulary also usually has a presence, and that, with the total support of the owner and top gun bartender Larry Herndon.

Larry saw me first and grabbed my attention. "Clyde, I don't want no trouble. Got it," he said. He'd seen me in action more than once.

"Huh?" I said.

"Adrienne's here again, Clyde-with Alan. That's them dancing," he nodded out toward the far side of the dance floor.

I turned to see my wife and my new worst enemy swaying rhythmically to an old country tune, "Am I standing in your way… " They were glued to each other and not at all concerned about who saw them.

I was hurt, I was angry, and I was about to be gettin' divorced. Oh yeah, this was the livin' end. She'd trashed my pride too many times. She'd disrespected me too many times. It was "too" definitely over now.

Adrienne and I had been having troubles of late, but we had also been making the effort; or so I'd thought, to fix our problems. I guess I was wrong. I was suddenly glad we'd got no kids; that would not have been convenient, not after this.

I didn't want to end up in the slam for kickin' Whitley's pimply ass, so I calmed myself down and watched.

"On the house," said Larry, setting my usual Lite in front of me. I swigged half the glass and returned to my informal sleuthing.

I was at the end of the bar in a kinda darkened spot, my back was to it, the bar, elbows pushed back half supporting me while I watched them. She finally spotted me.

She smiled weakly in my direction-busted-but she kept on dancing with him. Oh, him? He's Alan Whitley: a trucker and womanizer; oh, and didn't I mention? Professional asshole! I flipped her the bird, took a final sip of my beer and started to leave. She made to come to me, but he held her, and she didn't fight him. I left.

It was around 6:30 before I'd finally packed everything I needed. I headed downstairs. I had just reached the bottom of the stairs when she burst into the kitchen from the back and sailed into the front room. Alan was with her. She came in somewhat breathless.

"Clyde, where are you going? I came home to apologize. Alan too. Clyde, we were just funnin', no big deal. We weren't doin' nuthin'. We weren't gonna do anything! Honey, come on back in," she said.

"Why, Adrienne? Why? Do you still love me?" I said.

"Clyde this isn't about love. It's-something else," she said.

"Yeah, sex, right Adrienne? And I noticed you didn't answer me. Well, that good 'ole asshole standing beside you can be funnin' you now, Adrienne."

"Clyde, come on, man. She's right; it was just gonna be sex. Some foolin' that's all. She loves you not me. I mean it man," said Alan.

"Shut the hell up, Alan; you weren't getting' into my pants tonight and you know it," shouted Adrienne.

I was standing half in and half out of the front door. "Fuck you," I said to him, "her too."

"What did you say asshole," said Alan, as his demeanor suddenly morphed.

"I said to intercourse yourself, fuckwad, and her too!"

He came at me and I laid him out, easy-peezy. "I ain't gonna be standin' in your way no more, Adrienne. You can screw butthead there until your pussy fossilizes," I pointed at the writhing form below me, "or anybody else you want anytime you want from now on."

"Clyde! Please, we have to talk. It was only sex-I mean we didn't even do anything. It wasn't nuthin," she wailed. But, I was gone. I was sure I'd interrupted her plans, but she was gonna do it; it was on her mind, and I sure as hell knew it was on his. If it hadn't been so tragic it would have been funny.

I drove around for some time. I found myself pulling into the Starlight Motor Lodge. Forty bucks a night and found. Found means free breakfast if you city folks ain't into cowboy talk. It would do for a while.

I got me a room, and paid up for a week. I had to be at work in the morning; I was gonna need the money. It was only Thursday; tomorrow was a work day. I'd be finding me a lawyer during lunch time and a more permanent place on the weekend.

Sacked out on the lumpy motel mattress, I was thinking. What do I want? What am I gonna do? I got a good job. Good friends. My bartender knows me by name. Hey, if all I gotta fuck with is a whore wife, I'll just get away from her, and everything will be fine. Hey I got prospects, I told myself.

I slept the sleep of the just.

At lunch the next day. I used a phone number the boss gave me and set the wheels of the divorce in motion. I went in and signed the necessary forms after work, and arranged to have her served at her work. She's a secretary for Marston Trucking; the same one, ironical as hell, that Alan Whitley works for. May the two of them rot forever in the place reserved for the devil and his stinking traitorous angels!

Morgan Halsey, a direct, though distant, relative of the WW II admiral was my law dog.

"Clyde, you get half and she gets half; that's pretty much it," he said. "You ain't got no children, so that makes it a pretty simple split. You okay with all of that?"

"Yeah, do it," I said. "I just want out. My woman has to be my woman. I don't share."

"Okay, my man, you got it," I said. It was almost 6:00PM and I wanted to get someplace where I could shed some stress.

"I wasn't there but I hear there was quite a scene in the Marston main office yesterday," I said to the man sitting next to me. It was Monday, and I knew the bitch had been served.

"Yeah, Clyde, do yuh think! You nailed the bitch pretty good. I was there and I can tell you the tears never stopped falling. I think the bitch still loves you. Pity she feels the need to loan her ass out to all comers like that," said Ben.

Ben Gilchrist was my long time friend, and coincidentally, the office manager at Marston. He'd actually introduced me to Adrienne twenty years before. I'd been in my mid-twenties then and Adrienne a few years younger. She and I had hit it off, dated for a few months, and finally married on Christmas Eve nineteen years ago. Now, it seems, it had all come to naught. I felt free, but I did not feel good. You don't have that much psychologically invested in someone and just forget about 'em and go on. I still loved the whore, but I couldn't deal with the betrayal; that was going to damn far.

I punched in and headed for the coffee machine. Helen, the boss' secretary, waved me over. "You got a couple of messages from your wife, Clyde. She sounded pretty upset."

"I ain't takin' no more messages from her, Helen. If she calls again tell her to call Morgan. She knows the number," I said.

"Okay, if that's what you want," she said, and she headed off toward her office.

Yeah, I expected the calls. But, I don't know why she was tryin' to call me. She knew that bein' with that man would kill any feelings I had for her-well, almost anyway.

The woman sitting next to her was almost sneering. "I don't know Adrienne. I mean I don't know why you're whining like this. You've been talking about getting away from him almost since I've known you, and that's ten years, girl," said Mavis Billings.

"I just don't know what I want," said Adrienne. "Yes, I know what I've said in the past, but now that it's come to this, I just don't know.

"Look," said Mavis, "Alan's a good looking guy. He's got a good job. If it's his dick you want, go for it, girl."

Adrienne, looked up at her long time friend. "Maybe you're right, but I just don't know, Mavis. We've been together so long. We know everything about each other. He's had my back on any number of occasions, and me his. It just don't seem right him dumping me like this. If I could just talk to him, but; but, he won't come near me."

"Well, that should tell you something," said Mavis. "If he really cared, he wouldn't be getting' so all fired hot under the collar about a little playin' on the side.

"I remember you telling me that you told him what you might be doin' when he asked you o marry him. I also remember you told me he said that he could handle it. Well, he clearly can't," said Mavis.

"Yes, but that was just going out with the girls and having a good time, not-you know. But we changed over time. And then, Alan…"

Mavis looked exasperated. "Sign the damn papers, Adrienne, and let's get on with your life. There's a ton of guys out there dying to have a shot at you.

"You know, Alan has money, or will when his aunt dies. He told me so a long time ago and he wasn't lyin'."

Adrienne perked up. "Money?"

"Darn straight. Fifty-thousand dollars," pronounced Mavis. "That, girl, is a pretty good chunk of green."

"That is a lot," said Adrienne. She shook herself. "Maybe you're right. I guess I could do a lot worse than Alan Whitley."

She caught me at my place of work just as I was getting in to start my day. "Clyde?" She came to me looking a little unsure; I waited.

"Whaddya want?" I said.

She passed me the manila envelope. "I signed the papers," she said, "just like you wanted. I didn't want to just give them to the lawyer without saying a final word to you though.

"Clyde, if this is what you want then, okay. I would have thought you'd have given me a chance. But, okay. I will be moving on with my life now, I hope you will be doing good, Clyde. Goodbye."

I nodded. I was doing what I had to do; but it was the saddest moment of my life. She turned and walked away.

I saw her get into a car across the lot. It was Alan Whitley's car.

Six months later it was all over. The day after I got the final papers, I got seriously smashed.

I was sittin' at my usual place at Tribes when Ben came in. He took a seat beside me. "Buy me a drink," he said, "I'll tell you your fortune."

"That oughta be a worth a beer or two," I said. "Do I get to die? I wanna die."

For the next four days in a row, Ben and I met for drinks at the Tribes. I cried a little, complained a little, and sighed a lot. I was divorced, really and truly divorced from the love of my life, but I was not happy about it.

It was Saturday, the fifth day, that my life changed.

I was startin' in early at the bar. It was just after noon. I was alone. Ben hadn't arrived yet. I think his wife, Susie, was a little miffed at him for bein' late every day for the past several.

"You Clyde Bristow?" said a complete stranger.

"Who wants to know," I said. I checked him up and down. He was all business.

"I'm Mason Kellerman. I'm a lawyer. You're kind a hard to find, Mr. Bristow."

"Didn't know anybody was lookin'," I said.

"Well, as you are well aware your daddy died some time ago," he said.

"In 2000, so?" I said

"Well, he left you a few things. I mean in his will," he said "One of…"

"Will? What will? My dad said he was leaving everything to me, but he didn't say he had no will.

"Look I got all my daddy's stuff when we left Texas. That was four years ago. I gave away dad's the trailer to my cousin; I didn't want it. So if this has anything to do with that-"

"No, no, nothing to do with that. It's about the stock he had. A thousand shares of Allied Chemical. He bought them when the company was new-more than fifty years ago actually. He bought in at ten dollars a share. I believe he worked for the company for quite a number of years too," said Mr. Kellerman. "Anyway, my father was his stockbroker."

"Stockbroker?" I mumbled.

"My dad did work for ACI. I remember that. I guess I was maybe twelve when we moved and he changed jobs.He became a real estate salesman. Never made much money at it though. We was always lookin' for the next buck. After my mom died, I left home and got me a job. Only saw my dad on holidays after that, and maybe a few other times, until his last illness."

"Yes, well, he changed careers, Mr. Bristow, but he kept the stock. With accumulated dividends, numerous share spits over the years and the success of the company over time; you have four-thousand shares now. The stock price opened yesterday at $123 per share. Well, to put it simply, you've got roughly a half million dollars were you to liquidate today," he said.

I suppose I looked at him kinda funny. "Huh?"

"And, that's just the stock. You're dad has-had-land in Texas too. There's oil on it. Never been tapped. He didn't care about the oil, so my dad told me, or money either if it came to that. Anyhow, one of the big oil companies has submitted a bid on it, I mean the land. That's the main reason why I'm here.

"Frankly, I would have been here sooner, but you were; as I mentioned earlier, real hard to find. I mean Kentucky? It took a private investigator to do the job," he said.

"A bid? An oil company?" It was beginning to register. I had money.

"Yes, I have the papers with me. They're offering two million. For the six hundred and forty acres including all rights."

I nearly fainted. We talked for a little while longer. We made an appointment to meet with Morgan in the morning.

The meeting was cut and dried. The stock would be liquidated and put into a guaranteed fixed annuity offered by my life insurance company. I was guaranteed $2500 a month for life. Ninety percent of money from the land sale after taxes I put into long term CDs at seven percent interest. I was single. I had a small but cheap room; I'd given the house to Adrienne in the divorce. There was no alimony or any of that. So, I wanted her to have something; she got the house and the furniture. I just took my personal things and some pictures and books. My pickup was paid for. My needs were few.

I finally was able to quit my job. My knees were getting' a bit beatin' up layin' carpet, so the money was timely. With what I was getting' from my annuity added to my social security down the line-fifteen years down the line-I would be havin' somethin' close to four grand monthly for my old age. Not too bad, and that didn't even count the big money. I was feelin' sassy.

I was feelin' sassy, but I was also feelin' careful. I made sure Morgan knew this windfall, for such it was, was not to be put out there for others to know about. I had a few of my dad's genes, I guess, I really didn't care about the money apart from the fact that I was able to quit layin' carpet and maybe do something else.

Times were good. I got on as a part time barkeep at Tribes. Well, I was a big guy, and I had plenty of experience messin' with drunk assholes. For his part, Larry was glad to have me on his side for once. But, truth told I hadn't started anything since the breakup with Adrienne. My heart wasn't in it anymore. Now, I helped keep the peace and learned to be a good purveyor of alcohol. Adrienne had married Whitley, I knew that, and they had moved out of town, 'Bama, I heard. My heart broke anew when I heard that. It almost broke again tonight.

I saw them come in together. But Whitley wasn't with her. I snickered to Larry who was standing beside me. "Looks like she's cheatin' on 'ole Whitley now," I said.

He looked at me and smiled. "Looks like," he said.

About ten minutes after she and her cowboy sat down at a table across the room she noticed me. I nodded to her. She said something to her sidekick and came over to the bar.

"Hi Clyde. Buy you a drink?" she said.

"Hi back atcha, Adrienne. Been a long time. Where's your hubby?" I said.

"Alan? We're divorced, a year ago. He couldn't keep it in his pants," she said. "And yes I know. Don't say it. I was just as bad. But that was then and this is now. I'm not what I was and my needs are not what they were. Enough said."

I held up my hands in defense. "I wasn't going to say anything. How are things going for you? You look thin," I said.

She looked away. "Things are okay. How about you?" she said. She wasn't telling me something. But, she wasn't my worry anymore. She was somebody else's piece now. I let my curiosity go.

"Good. Real good," I said.

"How about that drink," she repeated.

"Maybe some other time, Adrienne. Your friend over there is watching you pretty close. He your husband?"

"Heavens no. Rod is just a friend. I was feeling kinda-bored-so he offered to help me out.

"How about you? Married? Girlfriend?" she said.

"No. Still single and in no hurry," I said. I couldn't tell her that I dreamed about her almost every night. The fact was I loved this woman and I would never love another, and, I knew it.

I watched the two of them dance several numbers. After maybe two hours, the cowboy came to the bar to refresh their drinks.

"Two Cosmos," he said.

"Coming up," I said.

"She says you two used to be married. She was kinda down tonight, I think," he said. "Seeing you made her feel a bit better."

"Oh?" I said. "Why would that be?"

"I don't know. She talks about you from time to time. But, her illness makes her melancholy most of the time," he said.

"Her illness?" I said.

"Uh-oh, you didn't know," he said.

"No, I haven't seen her since the divorce. What illness?" I said.

"Look, I shouldn't have said anything. It's cancer. Breast cancer. Please don't let on you know. I thought you knew. I mean the way she talks about you.

"I gotta get back she's gonna wonder why I've been so long." He picked up the drinks and made for their table across the room.

The room seemed to spin. I could hardly get a breath. I looked over at Larry and signaled him that I had to take a break.

In the back room the tears wouldn't stop. I headed for the John. I heaved everything I'd eaten the last three days. Cancer! Sweet Jesus, Cancer! I had to do something. I had to do something fast. I had money. I could do something. I wondered if that asshole Whitley knew about this. If he did and he left her because of it; I was going to kill him.

My first stop the following morning was Morgan's office.

"Morg, that's the way I want it," I said. "Get a private dick on it immediately. I want everything yesterday. Okay?"

"Okay, man. You got it. Let me say if you or her need anything-"

"Thanks, Morg. I appreciate it," I said.

The private dick was able to get everything in less than twenty-four hours, including her personal medical history-I didn't ask how. I read it and I was sick: maybe a year to live without the operation.

"She went in today, and the doctor informed her that the surgery was covered," he said. "And no, she doesn't know who is paying. She asked. She demanded to know. But, the doctor did as you said. She was real frustrated."

"Thanks a lot, Tim," I said. "If I ever need a PI again, you'll be the guy."

"You're welcome. I hope it turns out okay," he said.

"I wish I could've been there," I said.

"She was happy, guy. Relieved. Without your help she didn't have much time. I got that directly from my friend there. For the record she cried nonstop after hearing the news."

I nodded.

I knew better than to do it, but I had to see her-without being noticed. I slid into the hospital late at night, long after visiting hours. I stole a smock, a surgical cap and mask and a cart and headed for the room number I had found out from Tim.

Her room was glass walled. I stopped in front of it and peered in. She was sleeping, as well she might after midnight. She looked so beautiful. I was sick with longing.

I contacted Tim the next day.

"I know," I said. Cost is no object. "I just want to know what's happening. I have to know. Okay? I have to know."

Tim didn't argue.

Patient Adrienne Whitley, age forty-three was wheeled into surgery the next day. Her radical mastectomy and the first stages of the reconstructive follow up procedures were completed in six hours.

Here hospital stay was five days. Her next procedures were scheduled and set to be completed in five separate stages over a period of a few months. The good news is she was cancer free-crossed fingers that it didn't recur.

When she was released I was there. No, not to pick her up. Just to see her come out. She was picked up by her friend, Mavis Billings.

I never liked Mavis. Married three times. Each divorce the result of her cheating. I had to think that she was responsible for a lot of Adrienne's screwin' around.

Adrienne looked wan, but happy. I never felt more in love and happier in my life. I had given what I could, and I was feeling' real fine about it. But, she could never know.

I was talking with Larry and Ben when she came in. At first I was alarmed. I was afraid she knew. I needn't have worried.

"Hi, Clyde. Ben. Larry. Good to see you all," she said.

"Hello, Adrienne. You're looking good," I said.

"Better than I deserve," she said. "I had a bit of luck. Anyway, I'm fine now. Clyde, could I talk to you? I really need to talk to you."

I was suspicious, at this point I was certain that she knew what I'd done. "Yeah, I guess. Over there," I said. We headed for the same table she and the cowboy had been at that last night I'd seen him and her dancing.

Seated she got right to the point. "Clyde, I need to tell you some things, and I would be infinitely grateful if you'd let me get it all out before you say anything. Okay?"

"Okay, I guess," I said.

"Clyde, I love you. I know you don't love me anymore. Well, I don't think you do. But even so, I need to say some things." She swallowed.

"Clyde, I just got out of the hospital. I was dying, Clyde. But almost at the last minute someone, some anonymous person came to this woman's rescue. And no, before you ask, I don't know who, and anyone who might know isn't saying. I am just sick about that. I wanted to thank him-her whoever and do it on my knees.

"Clyde, that's the good news. The bad news is that to save me they had to cut off my breasts. I am undergoing reconstructive surgeries over the next few months, so I won't look too bad after it's all done. But, my C-cups are gone forever, I'm afraid. I will definitely be a small A-cup when all is said and done." I started to say something. She placed her little hand on my lips.

"No, Clyde, let me finish. I have to do this and it's real hard.

"While I was in the hospital. I had time to think. Hell that's all I had time to do. I decided that when I got out I was going to come to you and apologize for being a perfect asshole. I risked it all and lost it all for a cheap thrill that frankly wasn't even much of a thrill cheap or any other kind.

"And-"

"And?" I said, breaking my agreement not to talk.

"And, I am begging you to take me back. Yes, I'm damaged goods, Clyde. Yes, I treated you like shit. Yes, I deserve to be unceremoniously kicked to the curb where I belong. But…

I looked at her and "I" began to cry. She noticed and she wiped my tear away with her hand.

"Clyde, no one will ever treat a husband better than I will treat you if you have mercy on this old broad," she said.

I couldn't talk even if I'd wanted to. I took her in my arms and held her. I held my little woman. My woman!

"Clyde?"

"Yes," I managed, "yes." Now we both cried. Actually, I cried; she howled.

You might have thought that that was the end. But oh no. Fate had one last little trick to play on old Clyde.

The wedding was held in the old Baptist church by our old house. The reception saw many of our old friends come out for our second time around.

Ben and his wife were there, and Morgan, and Mavis, and Larry and his wife, and Tim; it was a good show.

Ben was talking to Mavis. He shouldn't have been; he was drunk.

"You're saying that our Clyde is rich?"

"Uh-huh."

"And he is Adrienne's savior, and she doesn't know it even now? Is that what you're saying?"

The two did not see the bride, who had just changed into street clothes for the ride to the airport to start her honeymoon. She was standing behind a curtain that covered the sliding glass door to the patio.

Adrienne almost fainted hearing them. She may not have been the swiftest in the race, but she sure as heck understood what they were saying. Her Clyde-he was her knight in shining armor. She knew what she had to do.

Passing through the door. Mavis and Ben shut up and smiled. Adrienne smiled back at them.

"Ben would you call everyone together, Please, I want to make a final toast before Clyde and I head out," said Adrienne.

"Sure, bet, girl," he said.

In less than five minutes thirty guests were assembled on the patio. Clyde was off to her left four or five feet.

"Friends, I have an announcement and a toast to make.

"That I am the luckiest woman on the planet today there is now doubt. I have just married the greatest guy on the planet and that makes it so. But, there is one more thing I must do. And something I thought I would never have the opportunity to do. But first a toast to happy days and my good man."

The "here-here's" echoed for a full minute.

Adrienne put her drink down. She went to her smiling husband-and sank to her knees. "Clyde, I love you. Thank you for saving me, my dear husband."

She burst out crying, and I stood there like a dumb ox. But the cheers went up right after her final words and I could do nothing but smile.

Married life was lookin' pretty good to me.

-----------------------------

   Series:An Unacceptable Situation
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A wife cheats, a daughter is okay with it, bitterness is the fruit.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/61444/an-unacceptable-situation
Published:2009-09-10
I'd just said goodbye to Ben when I got the call from my wife. She sounded odd, distant. It, the call, had short shanked my usual Friday afternoon beer fest at the Hop and Grape, my favorite hangout. I was home twenty minutes later: the clock read 5:27. I would remember the time; it spelled the end of my sixteen year marriage to Zoe Conyers. I'm Bill Conyers, 37, and in every way your average Joe. I'm an ex-army electrician. I'm currently working for the city: I'm a garbage collector, go figure. It's a pretty good living; but, I'm hoping to someday own my own electronics business.

"Thanks for coming home early, Bill," said Zoe. "I-we-Caroline and I, need to talk to you." My gaze floated over toward my teenaged daughter; her face was impassive." I sent her a half smile; she's always been the light of my life.

"Okay," I said. "I'm here. What's going on?"

"Bill, there's no easy way to say this, but Caroline and I are leaving," said Zoe.

"Leaving? For where?" I said, not getting it.

"Bill, I'm divorcing you. You will be served with the papers today. I didn't want to just have some stranger dumping them on you-well-anyway that's why I asked you to come home early. I mean so I could tell you, be up front with you. I glanced back and forth between then two of them. Fear was beginning to register in my gut.

"Huh?"

"I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, Bill. It just happened. I'm sorry," she said.

"Caroline?" I said, looking over toward my daughter. She looked away. I was beginning to hurt-real bad!

"Who is he?" I said. I could feel my face getting hot, my stomach start to roil, I felt tingly-and none of it was good. I was stunned, right enough, but not totally dead in the head. If she-they-were leaving there had to be a man. I was undoubtedly already a cuckold, but if so, I had been an unknowing one.

"I suppose you'll find out sooner or later anyway. It's John Kurst, Bill. He's a real estate developer. He's a nice man, Bill. He can do more for Caroline-well-than…"

"Than me," I said, finishing up her line. It is amazing how quickly mild interest, even concern, can morph into the purest of hatreds.

"You're dumping me-the both of you-for money? I haven't been up to your standards is that it?" I said. "I maybe don't smell too good at the end of work day, Zoe, but, at least I don't have the stench of betrayal on me.

"Caroline? Nothing? You've got nothing to say? I'm your daddy for chryssakes! You've got nothing to say to me?" I was pissed and hurt and at a loss.

"Bill…"

"I guess all it takes is some rich guy to buy you two off. Is that it? His money? Well, money ain't the only thing, and it don't guarantee happiness, not by a long shot," I said. Bitter didn't even begin to describe my feelings at that moment.

"There's no need to be sarcastic, Bill. I'm trying to make this as easy as I can for you," she said.

"Yeah, right," I said. "You been fucking him? This Kurst fuckwad!"

"Bill, Caroline is right over there," said Zoe. I looked over to Caroline.

"Okay. Well then, Caroline, has she?" I said. I was bitter and angry, and about to lose control.

"Huh?" said my fifteen year old daughter.

"Has your mother been fucking this asshole?" I said.

"William Conyers! Caroline is your daughter!" screamed Zoe. "And she's choosing to live with the asshole who cuckolded me, and who has, by definition, been fucking you?" I said.

The battle was on; it lasted some minutes. I was at least not wimping out. I was mad and hurting big time, but not wimping out. Caroline ran out of the room; I guess the yelling was too much for her.

"All right, Bill, if that's your attitude, I guess we'll just have to accept it," said Zoe, finally giving up any hope of pacifying me. And, as bad as this was, worse was in the offing.

She stood and took one last look at me: her look was nothing if not one of pity. I stood too, then, sat heavily back down in my chair. I heard the front door slam. They were gone. I was alone. My life sucked. ******

After a minute or two I got up and strode into the living room. I noticed things right away. They'd already moved everything they were going to take out of the house. Almost nothing, that would remind me that just hours before I'd been a family man remained. Now, I was alone and sick at heart.

It was bad enough that Zoe was fucking someone else, but that Caroline was evidently okay with it killed me inside. That one I would one day exact revenge for; I promised myself that much; I just wasn't exactly sure of who on. No one had the right to come between a man and his children, and children didn't have the right to dump on a loving parent.

She'd planned well had Zoe. I was served not five minutes after the two of them left. The server must have been waiting nearby for them to leave. Her lawyer had evidently advised her, at least so it appeared, to sell the house and divide the assets. Apart from the house we didn't have much, so in practical terms there was not much to divide. Anything that did have a little value in it, she had already taken. As a backstabbing, betraying whore, I had to admit that my soon to be ex-wife was pretty high up the food chain.

I signed the papers and sent them to her lawyer. At least I was spared the indignity of having to pay for my own screwing; she paid him, or her lover did. Well, I guess there's upside to almost anything.

After the house sale, which I did my best to help expedite-hey, it was in my best interest-I moved out and into a very small studio apartment a bit nearer to work. When all was said and done, I had eleven thousand dollars in my account and not a damn thing else. But, I didn't have any bills, not even car payments; both cars were free and clear. I did have a job, even if it was one that my two ex-family members were apparently ashamed of. Still, I was thinking, that since I no longer had to provide for anyone but me, that I might make a change in that department; the little money I had could go for that. There was no alimony requirement. She evidently planned to marry his fuckwadship as soon as the ink was dry on the final decree. That figured to be about four more months from now, the way I figured it.

We were headin' in one day after a fairly grueling day on the job. Ben was on my elbow, "Wanna get a couple of cool ones?" he said.

"Yeah, sure, what the hell," I said.

The Hop and Grape was busy for a Friday afternoon and Ben and I added to the commotion.

I'd done more mopin' than funnin' in recent times. It occurred to me that I had to get on with things and stop feeling sorry for myself-easier said than done.

As the afternoon turned to early evening, Ben and I were feeling pretty good. Marian Kelly, a clerk among the twenty or so at the lot, where we parked our trucks, was there. She looked good. Short gray skirt, dark blouse, high heels: she looked great.

"Hear you're single again," said Marian. I looked her up and down trying to be as obvious as I could; well, she did look good. Ben smiled at me. I had the feeling he knew something I didn't.

"Will be soon, a couple of months I guess. But, you're married," I said. I was actually fishing. I had never even talked to Marian more than to say good morning or the equivalent; I had no idea if she were married or not. Ben laughed.

"I'm headin' out. You two have a nice," he said. Marian winked at him and I caught it. He was gone without another word.

She laughed. "Ben's a nice guy," she said. I nodded.

"I'm not married, Bill. I'm divorced for two years now. I thought you knew. I thought everybody knew," she said. "Ha! That's probably why no one has asked me out." She laughed.

Are you saying you haven't gone out at all in the past two years!" I said, hardly believing her.

"That's right. I mean except to hang out here with the other girls and all you married guys," she said.

"You wanna drink?" I said. "I wanna be your first date. I mean right now. We'll have a drink and get out of here. Okay?"

"Whoa, soldier. You're not thinking of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of thing are you?" she said. She looked seriously concerned.

"No, no, I just don't want some other cowboy coming on to you before I can get my name on your dance card," I said. Now she smiled.

"Okay then, it's a date. Oh, and I'll have a white wine," she said. We sat at the bar, sipped our drinks, and after about half an hour, we made to go out.

"We gotta go to my apartment first, if that's okay, Marian. I do need to shower and change. I want to take you somewhere a little more upscale than Mac's," I said.

"Sure bet, sailor." She said. She followed me home. I sat her down in my little front area, handed her an MGD from the fridge, and disappeared into the back to get cleaned up and dressed acceptably.

We took her car; my truck wasn't all that sweet smelling; I'd have to rectify that at some point if I was going to be dating again.

It was the first time in months that I had talked to a woman about anything but necessary job related stuff. Until this moment, I had thought of no other woman, in a social sense, but my wife, and those thoughts had all been bad thoughts: death by fuel injection, burial alive in the county landfill, crucifixion on a fiery cross, things like that. But, now I had a chance to redeem at least a part of my life.

The Blue Bayou served real Cajun food and I was in the mood. Marian at first looked askance at all of the greasy calories, but got into it after a while.

"I don't eat this way every day," I said, laughing. I just wanted to do something crazy; I hope it's okay. I've been in a blue funk ever since they left me. But, you, coming over to-well-saved me."

"Glad to be of service," she said. "And yes, the food is fine. I like the atmosphere too."

"Marian?"

"Huh?" she said.

"I really needed to have a woman to talk to-be with. It was like I was afraid that no woman would want me. I mean even my own kid… " I started to breakup. She put her hand gently on my arm. Oh my, a woman's touch is among the most wonderful of things, just her touch alone, I thought.

"Bill, it's okay. And, for your information, the girls at the lot are talking about you behind your back. They're of two minds in case you care. One group wonders what you did to sour your marriage. The others are looking to see if they can score with you. You have nothing to worry about in the woman department. You will have to quit all the mopey stuff though. A woman doesn't want to be dealing with all of the neediness; you need to be the man you were before the breakup," she said.

"Hmm," I said. "And just in case you care, girl, the reason for the breakup; well, it was evidently purely a money thing. He's rich and I'm just an average Joe. So, she traded up. My daughter though-that one hurts real bad."

"I can imagine," she said.

We talked for some time, danced a little to the muted Dixieland band, and had a few too many martinis. She took me home at around 11:00PM. She kissed me, but did not accept my invite in.

"Maybe another time," she said, "but, not this time."

"You busy tomorrow night?" I said. She looked at me.

"No."

"Wanna go out? I'll clean up my car," I said. She smiled.

"Okay," she said. "Since you're willing to clean up your car for me how can I refuse?" ****** Marian and I dated after that most weekends. I was like a high school kid, even to the point of making out with her in the theater. I'd almost forgotten what it was like, dating a woman, but I was able to get back on track pretty quickly-call me a quick re-learner.

We were sitting at Bob's Big Boy, chewing on the best hamburgers on the planet, when I made the decision.

"Marian, I'm gonna be quitting tomorrow," I said. I think I even surprised myself. It's not like I hadn't been thinking about it. But, I had, until that moment, made no decision. Now, I had.

"Quit? Why? Whatever for?" she said.

"Well, I have a little money, and I have decided to go into business for myself," I said.

"What business?" she said.

"An electronics repair and installation service," I said. "I don't even need a shop, just a twenty-four hour hotline and my tools. I've got most of what I'll need right now; it's been my hobby since I was in the army. I can be up and operational in a week's time most."

She sat back in her seat and eyed me. "How will this impact us?" she said.

"Shouldn't at all," I said. "As we've talked about before, my divorce will be final by the end of the week. After that, my ex won't have any claim on anything I do, I mean after the final decree.

"Marian, I'm no fortuneteller, but I might be able to make a real go of this if I can just get things to break right for me, and with a little luck I think I can.

"When I was married, my wife wouldn't even consider letting me quit my steady job with the city. The irony in that is that she eventually dumped me mainly because of my 'nothing,' as she saw it, job. But, I no longer have that constraint. I'm gonna go for it. I have to," I said. "I don't wanna be ninety and talkin' about what might have been. The time is now."

"Wow!" she said. "Well, good. You should go for it.

"I imagine you've looked into the market for this kind of thing," she said.

"Yes, I have. I have to do more, but there is a market, especially with the computer thing going so crazy. I can do hardware and software, so that's a plus too," I said. ******

I gave two weeks' notice to the city. I knew it wouldn't be hard to replace me, but it made it easier for Clyde, our boss, to get someone else without having to hurry up. It was my last day when the boss approached me.

"Well, Bill, looks like your single again now and going into business for yourself. A complete new start for you, huh," he said.

"Yeah, Clyde, and I guess I'm looking forward to it to. It would have been nice to have my family in on it, but…"

Bill, there's someone waiting for you on the dock outback," he said. He looked kinda sheepish.

"Who?" I said.

"Your daughter," he said. My look must have cued him. "Yeah, I know you had your problems with her and your wife, but for the record, she seems anxious to talk to you."

"Okay, thanks, boss. I'll see her. It's been seven months since the last time. I have to admit that I'm curious as to what she wants," I said.

She looked pretty in her little red sundress. I had to admit to a little bit of pride there even if she had helped her mother stomp my ego along with my heart into the ground.

"Daddy!" she cried coming up to me and hugging me. Her enthusiasm surprised me.

"Yeah, I'm still that, I guess," I said.

"Daddy, you will always be that to me," she said. "I've been mad at myself since that day we left. I mean the way we treated you, me and mom."

"Okay?" I said. I didn't trust myself to respond. I still harbored a whole lot of anger; yes, even toward my daughter. And, yes, I know how bad that sounds.

"I miss you, dad," she said. "Do you have time to go eat?"

"Now?" I said. She nodded. I had a date with Marian in half an hour. I made the call.

"Hi… yeah… I'm going to be late… Caroline is here… yeah… wants to talk… okay, an hour and half is good." I hung up. Caroline gave me a look.

"A friend?" she said.

"Let's go," I said, ignoring her fishing expedition.

Denny's wasn't crowded. We took a booth in the back. The waitress came; the food as ordered arrived; we ate mostly in silence and then settled in to talk.

"You look nice, Caroline," I said. I knew I sounded formal, but it was how I was feeling. She noticed.

"Dad, I'm you daughter, not some stranger's kid," she said, reacting to my tone. I nodded.

"Yeah, but you're living with some stranger as his kid," I retorted. "And, this old daddy of yours, as you call me, hasn't seen or heard from you-or my ex-wife-in many months. How am I supposed to deal with that?"

"I know. That's mainly why I came today. I wanted to make sure you knew that I still consider you my dad. My only dad!" she said, emphatically.

"Really," I said.

"Yes, really," she said. What I said and did next might be considered cold by some, but I counted it as necessary.

"Thank God," I said enthusiastically. "Call your mom, and tell her we will be picking up your stuff tomorrow morning."

"Picking up my stuff?" she said looking me askance.

"Yes, I mean if you're still my baby, then you'll be staying with me, right?" I said, still acting the joyous dad part. Her face fell as I knew it would.

"But, dad, I can't just… " she started.

"Yeah, I figured," I said, dropping all pretense of joy. "So why did you bother coming here, really? If you have another dad that has that kind of hold on you, how can you say that I'm still your only dad? Tell me, I'd really like to know."

"Daddy, that's not what I meant-I mean-I mean… " she got up and ran out. The hurt I'd felt months before came back to me. Oh, I knew she had feelings for me, but I couldn't get by the reality that shear economics had made me a second class daddy; I blamed her momma for that.

I headed home to get ready for my delayed date with Marian.

******

I refused to let my upset with my daughter to interfere with my date with Marian. I had a right to be happy too, damn it, and Intended to be. My wife had dumped on me, cheated on me, cuckolded me; it was time for me to get a little back.

I was not intending to mess with Marian out of revenge only. Oh no, I was doing it for me, and, I hoped, for her too. She seemed to want me even if my cheating whore of a wife did not, and I for damn sure wanted Marian. Tonight was the night.

I looked at my watch the movie started in about three hours. That allowed us enough time to eat first and have a couple of drinks. I was early. I looked at her door from behind the wheel of my car. I was half an hour early; she was going to think I was anxious. Well hell, I was. I got out and headed up the walkway. Mounting the three steps I knocked. No answer. I knocked louder. I heard a rustling inside. The door opened a crack. "Bill! You're early," she said. "Count to ten and then come in." She clearly wasn't ready.

I counted and went in. She'd evidently headed toward the back of the house, to her room. "Get yourself a beer from the fridge," she called out from the back.

"Okay, thanks," I said, "sorry for being so early. Guess I was anxious."

"Never mind, I'll be out in a few minutes. Just relax and have a beer." She went silent, and I got me the beer. I took a seat by the big bay window and looked out on the view of the street and neighborhood in and around the front of her house. It was a nice place, the house; I knew she was renting and paying a pretty penny for the privilege too. A waste? I guess it was a matter of what one valued.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi back atcha," I said. "Hope I didn't upset you too much. I was just nervous and all, and well anxious. Sorry."

She smiled, "Never mind, just give me a call next time if you're in that much of a hurry we'll make adjustments, okay?"

"Sure bet. Uh-I figured we'd go out to eat have a couple of drinks, and then catch a movie. That okay?" I said.

"Sounds good," she said. We headed out.

The food was good; the port wine after dinner was very nice. We pulled up to the entrance to the theater. The Garden was a holdover from the fifties, a drive-in movie theater. Marian looked askance at me as we pulled up to the booth and paid.

"The passion pits?" she said, but she was smiling still. "I feel like a teenager on my first date."

"I just laughed. Yeah, well, that's kind of the idea," I said. "I just wanted to do something different with you; something that both of us would like; well, I hoped we'd both like it."

"We'll see about that," she said. We drove around to the back and parked. I mounted the sound device and turned it down low."

My truck was spick-n-span, but that was not the biggee: I had gotten rid of the bucket seats, and put in a new, specially made for me, door-to-door bench seat. Now, my girl and I could cuddle like in the old days before all of the governmental baloney changed the way trucks, and cars to for that matter, were furnished.

I leaned back against the door on my driver's side. I was looking across the seat at her and she looked at me like a cat that was about to dine on the canary-me. Oddly I was thinking of something else…

"Do you-uh-feel comfortable with me?" I said. "I mean-oh heck, I don't know what I mean. I mean, well, I just want you to feel comfortable is all."

She didn't respond, not with words anyway. She slid over to me and cupped my face in her hands. She leaned in and kissed me; it was a gentle, sensual kiss. She lifted my hand to her breast; she wore no bra. I explored her through the softness of the cotton material. My hand slipped over and down to the buttons of her blouse and undid them one by one. The car windows were already steaming up, a useful quirk of nature.

I peeled her blouse from her shoulders. Her aureoles were broad and dark and oh so very feminine.

"You are so beautiful, Marian," I said. She wasn't smiling now it wasn't a smiling moment; her eyes were closed. I reached for her tits once more and very gently massaged them. I leaned in and kissed each mound. I began suckling on first one then the other. I stopped. She had leaned back against the seat and spread her knees apart; her dress had ridden up to mid-thigh. My hand slowly slid up her leg stopping just short of her most secret place. She opened her eyes and looked at me no doubt wondering why I'd stopped.

"Having second thoughts?" she teased.

"No, but I am having thoughts about having seconds," I said. I was amazed at my own cleverness. Brilliant, I thought, in the midst of my self-congratulations.

She kissed me just as my finger invaded her panties violating her vagina. "Ummph!" she said, as I began finger-fucking her. "Gently, boy, a little less enthusiasm until you get me wet, okay."

I drew back appalled at my bad behavior. "Marian-I'm-sorr… " She cut my words off with the sweetest kiss I'd ever experienced. We continued making out for some little time before I felt her hands on the front of my pants. She unhooked my belt and worked my zipper down. She reached into my briefs for my now steel hard engine of lust; it pulsed in her hand.

I pulled her down to the surface of my new leatherette seat and worked her panties down and off of her. Her bush was plush and almost animalistic in its smell as her juices now began to soak it. I kissed her nether lips and began lapping her clit. She shuddered and made little noises that had meaning only for us.

I pushed my pants, that she'd already loosened, down and off and mounted her from the top. I speared at her several times and failed to gain entrance; she was tight. She took matters into her own hands and guided me inside of her. Lodgment gained, I began a slow push pull motion finally burying myself deep inside of her. I was still for a moment letting her get used to me.

"Do me," she said, "now." I began screwing her slowly then faster then at breakneck speed. I needed this woman-bad!

I kept at her for some minutes. She shuddered just as I blew my load into her.

****** The night after my liaison with Marian, I was awakened by an energetic rapping on my apartment's door. It was Saturday and just a little past 8:00AM. I had fallen asleep on the couch, and except for my shoes, I was still dressed as I had been the night before.

I staggered up and made my way to answering the infernal racket. "Zoe!"

"You bastard!" she greeted me. "You sonovabitch!"

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Did you have to destroy her?"

"Who? What?" Then it dawned on me; she was talking about Caroline. Zoe blew by me and into my apartment. She headed through the glass door and onto my mini-patio. I knew I must've looked and smelled awful; she doubtless wanted cleaner smelling air. "You should've called. I'm not ready to receive visitors, and my mother always taught me to not allow strangers into the house when she wasn't around," I said.

"Strangers! What strangers; we were married for sixteen years," she said.

"Yeah, but in the final analysis it turned out that I didn't really know you, now did I," I said. She actually looked surprised by my remark. She gathered herself and laid it on me.

"She came to you yesterday trying to repair your relationship with her. Why did you have to blow her off like that," she said.

"No she didn't, and I didn't. She came to make herself feel less guilty about dumping on me, abandoning me; you know, like you did. But, when I told her I was thrilled that she thought of me as her only father and that I was happy that she was coming home. She ran out. That's what happened, exactly what happened.

"I guess she wanted me to okay what she did to me. I will never be okay with it, not ever. Nor for what you did to me either. Now, are we done here?" I said.

"No, we're not done! I have some things to say to you, and you need to listen," she said. I slipped resignedly down onto the couch awaiting what I was sure would be a verbal assault. I'd listen-well, I was curious-then I'd throw her cheating ass out.

"Bill, I know I hurt you those months ago," she said. She stopped to see if I was going to say anything; I didn't. "I just didn't know how to make it easier on you than I did," I still remained silent. "Bill, please forgive me for what I did, okay? It was cruel. I know that, and I really am sorry. And-Caroline-well, she needs you."

I still just sat there. "Well, aren't you going to say anything?" she said. She was becoming frustrated.

"No," I said. Then, "Hmm, yes. Caroline can come back and be with me if she wants. But, I will not willingly tolerate playing second fiddle to your asshole partner in crime. I hope I'm not being too vague here."

"You're not playing second fiddle. She loves you. And John is not an asshole, okay," she said.

"Yeah, she loves me but not more than his money, right?" I said. "And, yes, John is an asshole and so are you."

"Oh! You are so stubborn," she said.

"Absofuckinglutely!" I said. "I am not going to stroke her conscience or yours just to get the occasional mercy visit from her-or you. Got it. I'm either her dad or he is; looks to me like she's made her choice. Now, the two of you have a good life. Hear?"

"Bill! I…"

"Just get the fuck out, Zoe. I think we're done here. Your mission failed," I said. I got up and headed for the loft of my studio digs. I needed to get cleaned up and get something in my belly. She just stared after me. I was almost to the bathroom when I heard the front door open and close; she was gone-again.

I didn't feel good about my performance with Zoe, but I was not under any circumstances going to let them make me the bad guy. The three of them were going to carry that burden, and it was just too damn bad if it made them uncomfortable; I'd been uncomfortable for months.

I planned to spend the rest of the day lounging on the patio, by the little rock fountain I'd put in near the balcony's far end; it added a kind of poor man's ambiance to the place, I thought. Well, that had been my plan for the day. That is, it was before I had yet another visitor-John Kurst.

"You know who I am right?" he said, as he passed me and headed thru my living room and out onto my patio-just like his whore had, I thought. I followed him out. I wondered if Grand Central Station had more traffic than I did today.

"Yeah, you're the asshole. I saw you at the court two months ago, the day the divorce was final. What the fuck do you want?" I said.

"Got a beer?" he said. I stared at him. "For you? Fuck no! And fuck you if you think you can waltz into my home and say or do whatever you want, let alone expect me to be your goddamned host!"

He ignored my words. "Look, we fell in love, okay? It happens. It's not the end of the world for you. Why are you making it so hard on the girls? You that selfish?" he said.

"Selfish? Because I wanted to keep my family together? Let me say it again. Fuck you! Now, do you have anything else you want to say before I kick your pimply ass outta here?"

"Just this, Caroline needs you. She likes me, but she loves you. You need to cut her some slack. Please." He said.

"All she has to do is move back with me where she belongs," I said.

"Bill, Mr. Conyers, you know Zoe and I are getting married, right?" he said.

"Didn't get the invitation," I said. "But, I figured you would be sooner or later."

"It's in a couple of weeks. And, in case you were wondering, I will not be seeking to adopt Caroline. Just wanted you to know. She's your daughter not mine; I know that. She just wants to be with her mother.

"You know, you keep saying that she belongs with you, but how about her mother? Doesn't she belong with her too?" he said, feeling proud of his logic.

"No, her mother's an unfaithful whore. She should not be with her, since you ask," I said.

"You really are a stubborn sonovabitch, aren't you," he said.

"That's the rumor," I said. "Not get out before I throw you out." He left shaking his head. I had a feeling all was not right in Kurst country. That was oh so fucking too damn bad.

I called Marian. I needed company. ******

They were seated under the patio awning beside the large swimming poll in back of his house. The sun glinted off of the coping around the pool. Their feet grew warm just looking at it. She looked over at him

"Okay, so what did he say?" said Zoe.

"You don't want to know," said John. "But, for the record, he considers you an unfit mother."

"I do want to know. If we are going to be able to get him and Caroline back at least on speaking terms… " said Zoe.

"He's not budging. You were right. He is too hurt to compromise. He's not getting over it any time soon either. He's on the verge of hating us all-including Caroline-for what he sees as-well-your betrayal of his love. Actually, he hates me and probably you already. Caroline, for her part, is fast running out of time and chances too, if it comes to that," said John. "As far as he's concerned, nobody cares about him and he's obviously bitter about it. "We're getting married in two week's time. And that's just going to be something else for him to focus on, another reason to hate us. You know the worst of it? Caroline is going to be your maid of honor. He's gonna see that as another slap in the face," said John.

"Yes, I think you're right. But, I can't just tell her to not be. She's my daughter. I want her to be there for me. And, she wants to be. Oh, John, I just don't know what to do. I mean it's his life and his to understand about us or not, but, I guess it's going to be a case of or not. I just don't know what to do.

"Jesus!" she stomped her feet on the ground without getting up. "I've got to do something. Anything. I never meant to hurt him. I really did not. Falling in love with you was accidental and not to be denied. I just couldn't help myself," she said.

"Me either," he said. "I tried to reason with him about that. Told him it was not the end of the world for him. But, he wasn't hearing anything. Actually, it's hard for me to blame him. I mean I wouldn't know what to do if I lost you either. He has my sympathy for what it's worth."

She came to him and hugged him. Both had tears in their eyes. "We'll figure something out," she said. "You know, what he needs is a woman. Another woman. If he had…"

"Stay the hell outta there, Zoe. That is one place neither of us wants to go. He has to find his own way.

"You know-how about," he started.

"How about what?" she said.

"How about if Caroline stayed with him part of the time-you know, kind of shared custody?" he said.

"I don't know. Caroline likes it here. She misses her dad, but would rather live here; it's as simple as that," she said. "It was her choice from the beginning, I mean after I told her I was divorcing her dad.

"I think it's partly the glitz. And, partly that she wants to be with me, I mean as well s her dad. In her teenage mind, she figured that she could be here and visit her dad often and things would be, if not exactly rosy, at least tolerable. But, neither she nor any of us figured on the bitterness that has possessed Bill," she said.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "I will ask her about the shared time idea. Of course, no matter what she might decide, Bill will have to be sold on it, and he isn't exactly communicating with us too well right now," said Zoe. ******

"No, mom, that won't work. For dad it's all or nothing. Maybe if we had tried that in the beginning it might have been possible. But, you didn't see and hear him, what he said to me. He hates John. I just don't know how I am ever going to make things right with him. He's-so-one way," said Caroline. Her mother nodded.

"I suppose you're right," she said. "You know, I am very proud of you, Caroline. You're a lot smarter than I am. I didn't do right by your dad. And-and-cheating on him was the worst. It just happened; I didn't mean for it to end this way. I know he'll never forgive me for what I did. And, for what it's worth, I don't deserve to be forgiven. But, I do hope that you and your dad can mend fences at some point. I really do. He's a good man, just stubborn-and-a little hurt." ******

I'd put the word out through several old army buddies that I was in business. I had appointments by the end of week one. They weren't big money jobs, but I could hold out for a while as I got my feet set firmly on the ground. Quality work, quality materials, and short turn-around times were the main features of my modus operandi. I figured to make them work for me.

I got a bonus when Marian volunteered to handle appointments for me: I'd set up two phones in my apartment with some forward looking software for my computer to handle the business that I hoped I'd soon be getting; she was good at that stuff.

Business was slow for the first couple of months, slow that is, but steady. It was a beginning. Then, I caught a break. ******

The man was tall, very tall, and slender; and his name was Lionel Tandy; he was a PI. He was a private investigator with a need for someone to handle his very delicate spying machinery. He'd been recommended to me by a mutual old friend from army days. Jerry, Jerry Whitfield. My buddy and his, had employed him to catch his cheating wife and to protect himself from being raped in the divorce that he knew was coming.

Mister Tandy had a lot of machinery because he had a lot of business; and, he almost immediately had steered a lot more business my way. My income doubled by the end of the first year, and more than quadrupled by the end of the second year. I was making four times what I did as a trashman. Life was good and getting better. Well, better if you discount I hadn't heard from any of my former family in all that time. I'd asked Marian to move in with me. She'd initially refused. She was concerned that I had not been able to come to grips with my wife and daughter's betrayal, as I saw it. But now she'd reconsidered. I guess I didn't seem to be so down all of the time as I had been. Maybe it was the result of being so damn busy which I freakin' was! Another plus for her, and ultimately us was the fact that she no longer had the worry of making the rent on her old place.

We were doing well as a team, and now we were sharing a bed. I knew the asshole and my ex had married soon after my last talk with any of them. I also knew my daughter had been the maid of honor at the little do. She certainly had made her choice with that one. I had been bitter about Caroline being her maid of honor, but thinking about it, I guess it figured. But, marriage for me and Marian? No, not yet at any rate. I was still a little skittish, even after two years, no doubt another reason that she'd held off moving in with me.

Again apart from hearing about the wedding from some common friends of Zoe's and mine, I hadn't seen nor heard from my ex-familia in more than two years. I didn't even know if they knew that I had switched careers; I'd doubted it. I was wrong.

Marian and I had finally had to rent a small office and workroom a mile and half from the little studio apartment I'd originally rented after the breakup and which we, the both of us now, still lived in. The office was nothing fancy, purely utilitarian. We didn't even have a sign in the window of the place. But, as fate would have it, such humble digs did not stop my now seventeen year-old daughter from finding me and stopping by.

I didn't recognize her at first. She'd filled out a lot in the time since she'd run out of that restaurant. She was not only older, she was more mature too-they're not the same thing.

"Hello, dad," she said, just as I realized who she was. Her tone, if I was reading it right, was condescending, and it bothered me.

"Caroline, nice to see you. You've grown up, I see," I said. "Like to have been there." I smiled.

"You could have been," she said.

"No, no, I don't share my children. They are either my children or they aren't," I said.

"And I wasn't then," she said.

"It was your choice," I said. I was being catty, but I had not, and never would, get over the way I had been treated. There would be no letting them off easy. "What are you doing here, if might ask?"

"Heard you had this shop, and that you'd quit being a garbage man," she said. There was that condescending tone again. "It's kinda small isn't it?" she said. "No customers?"

"A few," I said. "I eat regular. I'll ask again. Why are you here? You just come to insult me? Haven't you and your mother done enough of that?" She winced. I'd finally made an impact.

"No, no, sorry. I didn't mean it to sound that way. Did I make it sound that way?" she said.

"Yes."

"Well, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, really.

"I came by to see you. See how you were doing. Hope you're doing okay-really, she said. I think I believed her, but it didn't change much.

"Well, thanks, I guess. And, how are you doing? You're what, seventeen now?" I said. "Did asshole buy you a new car yet?"

"Dad, please stop calling him an asshole, okay? He's an okay guy. And yes, that's my Vet out front," she said.

"No," I said, "he'll always be asshole to me. I think I told you that the last time you came by." I walked over to the window and looked out. "Nice. Wish I could afford it. Looks like you and your mom did well trading up, huh?

"Anyhow, so you came here to check me out, and what, maybe rub my nose in it?" I said. I was getting angry, but I was doing an okay job of not showing it too much.

"What? I mean, no. I didn't think that-I mean-no," she said.

"Never mind. Just tell your mom that I think she's done an excellent job raising you to be just like her. Now, if you'll excuse me. It may not look like it, but I am busy," I said. My meaning was clear, and she got it.

"That was uncalled for, dad," she said.

"Tell me, just for the record, what do you call asshole when you're home," I said.

"Dad!" she all but screamed at me.

"You call him dad, then?" I was smiling to beat the band.

"No! I mean you. Stop calling him asshole, please." She said.

"No," I said.

"Well, I guess it's no use talking to you. You know, a while back mom and John…"

"So, you call him John?" I said, getting my answer to my previous question.

"Yes, John. And, as I was about to say, mom and John were going to ask you if it would have been possible for me to spend half of my time with you and half with them?" she said. She was fishing to see how I might have reacted to an offer to share my daughter. This posed a problem for me.

Zoe was her mother, cheating whore or not, and had the right to have her daughter with her part of the time, so how would I have reacted to the offer of a split schedule.

"What would you have said to such a proposal?" I said, finally.

"I would have considered it," she said.

"Hmm, me too," I said. "But, you would have had to leave all of that fine stuff he's been plying you with there at his place if you were going to spend any time with me, including that ride out there. Could you, would you, have been okay with that?"

"Why are you so mean," she said. "I've never insulted you or said bad things about you. And for the record neither has John or mom. But, you are always calling him names and making stupid rules and stuff."

"Yes, but I ain't wrecking his family am I," I said. "You needn't come back, Caroline, you're clearly no part of me anymore. You're just shoving this shit of his in my face, and I don't like it. So just stay where you belong and don't come back.

"Now, if you will please leave. I really do have things to do, if I am ever going to be able to make enough money to compete with asshole," I said. I turned away and started messin' with paperwork that Marian had already taken care of."

"Dad! You know, you are actually cruel," she screamed at me. I supposed she was right, but I didn't care very much right at that moment. I would be talking to Marian later. ******

"So, you're thinking of doing what, exactly," said Marian.

"Hell, I don't know. Like I told you, I simply refuse to accept second fiddle status. I absolutely demand that I be the "only" fiddle in the band. That's the long and the short of it, I guess," I said.

"Divorce often leads to a kid split between the wife and the husband," said Marian.

"Yes, and I could have lived with a split, but they didn't offer me that. The offered me occasional visits if I were good. That wasn't going to fly, not then, not now, not ever," I said.

"Hmm, yes, but maybe you'd have done better not to cut her off completely like that," said Marian. "But, I do understand your hurt. I expect so does the trio of them as well."

A month later I was sitting at a back booth visiting with Marian when my best customer came by.

"Mr. Tandy," I said, "good to see you."

"Bill, how are you. May I join you?" he said.

"Of course."

"How are you Marian? You look good tonight," he said.

"Thanks, Lionel," she said.

"Bill, I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you took my advice to open up your service to a broader clientele," said Lionel.

"Yeah, me too," I said. "I had to hire a bunch of young techie types to cover the demand, and a few of them aren't even eighteen for cryin'-out-loud. But, they can do anything with both the hardware and the software as well as with the electrics. Business is good."

"Yeah, and your good work has redounded to me. Keep it up. I like it when my clients are happy with folks I recommend.

"You know, Bill, the best revenge is success. Sooner or later your ex is going to notice that she made a humungous error in judgment. Trust me, I've been down the road you're on," he said.

I sighed. "Yeah, maybe. But it is all water under the bridge now, Lionel. It's been going on three years. Besides, Marian has agreed to marry me. I'm putting the bunch of them and all of the hang-ups about my relative ability to earn a living behind me as best I can. The hurt will probably never completely disappear, but it's a lot less with Marian in my corner," I said, nodding toward my fiancée. Marian squeezed my thigh under the table; I gave her an appropriate look.

The three of us talked for a little while but soon Marian and I had to cut country. ******

I was beginning to get the heebeegeebees when it came to my ex-family. Though the visits were few and far between, one would come to visit, do or say something unacceptable, and then other one would show up and pull something else. One would think that an ex-dad and husband could at least be left alone to feel sorry for himself. But, evidently, such was not to be, at least for this dad and ex-husband.

I sighed as I looked her up and down. She stood two feet away looking for all the world the exasperated pedant. "Hello, Zoe," I said, feeling a little bit exasperated myself. The bar was empty except for the barkeep and a young couple seated at a table against the far wall.

"Hello, Bill. Caroline told me about her coming to see you. I didn't know about it or I would have had her call first or-or- something," she said.

"Whatever," I said. "So, how did you know where to find me unless this is one of those less than believable coincidences one reads about from time to time?"

"I know your hangouts, Bill, all of them. Heck, this is the first one I tried," she said. "I notice you're alone. No girlfriend today?"

"Whaddya want, Zoe? And why would you be trying to find me? You dumped on me, remember. My love life is hardly a matter for you to concern yourself about," I said.

"I suppose you're right," she said. "Same as last time. I am hoping I can get you and Caroline back to at least talking civilly. She cries sometimes you know. She does love you. It's just that she's a kid-she doesn't understand the world the way adults do."

"Hah! I'm pretty damn sure the adults don't understand it any better than she does if it comes to that," I said. Zoe actually giggled at that.

"Maybe so. Can I buy you a drink?" she said. I nodded. What the hell I thought, a free drink was a free drink.

The bargirl brought the two beers I'd signaled for. "You know my rule, Zoe, if she wants back with her real father she dumps the fake one," I said.

"I have a right to be with my daughter too don't I," said Zoe.

"I would have said yes to that, but I had no choice in the matter did I. So, why should I agree to something now that I had no choice in then? You, and presumably your asshole, are still making up the rules. Whatsamatter, things not all that hunkydory with you two? You gotta get me to run interference for you with the kid?" I said. She looked at me with a frustrated frown painting her features.

"Caroline needs her father. That's the only reason I'm here, not to hash over my relationship with my husband," said Zoe. "Why can't you believe that! Did I hurt you that bad?"

"I don't believe you, Zoe, because you are a cheat and a liar. As to the other, yes, you did hurt me that bad. Especially giving me no say in Caroline's future," I said.

"Again, I-I'm sorry about the way I hurt you, Bill. I mean it. I've had some sleepless nights over that. It's just-well-once I'd made the decision to leave, I was afraid that you and I would go 'round and 'round and get nowhere if I tried to soft peddle it. I just decided to get it over with fast. I thought that that would cause less pain in the long run than if we dragged it out. I guess I was wrong there.

"As for the thing with Caroline. She was frightened you'd disown her, but she was even more frightened that I might, I mean my going with another man and all. So, I just told her she had to choose who to live with but that she could visit the other as much as she wanted. Neither of us, me or Caroline, figured on your reaction when she chose me. I still can't get my head around that," said Zoe.

"Get your head around it?" I said, repeating her words. "You actually thought that I would be okay with what you did to me, and her too? You left me alone with nothing and no one!" I was fuming. The fucking nerve. I just had no words to explain my feelings to this woman.

"Bill, I'm sorry. I blew it okay. I didn't realize. I did try to do things right, to cause as little pain as possible; but-I guess, I failed. I don't know what to do, Bill. I would just like us to be friends or at least on speaking terms.

"Above all, I would wish that you and our daughter could get by all of the bad stuff and be-well-good to each other again," she said.

"The rule is she dumps you and the asshole and all of that money you're so proud, and I will accept my daughter back with open arms; there is no other way, not for me. Not after what you did to me, and the way you did it to me, cheating on me," I said. "Get your head around that! And now, if you'll forgive me, I wanna finish my beer in peace, the buying of which, by the way, is the only nice thing you've done for me in forever." She rose to go. I think she was beginning to tear up, but maybe not.

"Okay, Bill, the door is always open if you will only walk through it, but I guess this is the last time you'll hear from me unless you do," she said. And, she left. I gave her a desultory wave and turned back to the serious business of my beer drinking; I'd need a couple more at least. My stomach was roiling, and I wasn't sure why.

She was true to her word. It was three more years before we saw each other again and it was a shock to the both of us when we did. ******

There are cartoons and sitcoms and outright comedic specials. One watches, and one expects to laugh. But, sometimes the most comedic of TV shows are the financial news channels where one does not expect to laugh. But me? Oh yes, watching the super rich, and the talking heads that wipe their asses for them, wringing their hands as their millions shrink into the muck they have created with their moronic speculations in the market is more than entertaining; it's side-splitting. Helluva thing these recession thingys. That these monsters of Wall Street are hurting is actually cathartic for those of us who have to actually get their hands dirty to make a living. It was ever thus.

What does all of this have to do with anything? Well, again, I am one of those who has to get his hands dirty to make a living. The good news is that I am making a helluva living, and I am smiling to beat the band. My accountant; and yes, Marian made me hire an accountant to do our books, tells me that I have a current net worth of just over seven million dollars. I own and operate fourteen small shops here in the southern part of the state, like the one I personally work out of; and my workers, the high school and college kids that do the bulk of the hardware repairs for us are all making good money too: minimum plus commission.

Marian and I, if I hadn't mentioned it, are married; headed for our third anniversary soon. No kids yet, but we're thinking about it. We're at the Fish-on-Fire tonight, but she's in the little girls' room. Said she had to pee before she laid something on me. No, I know it's not a request for a divorce; we are very happy and very busy and very looking forward to a long life together.

"There you are, honey, I thought maybe you'd fallen in," I said, laughing.

"Very funny, honeykins," she started. Uh-oh, now I was worried. "I need help."

"Help?" I said.

"At the house. I'm working almost as much as you are, you know, Bill. I mean most of it is at the house on the PC, but I'm on there so much that I need a housekeeper to help out keeping the place clean, and such," she said.

"Not a live-in I hope," I said.

"No, no, just a couple of days a week to do the heavy stuff. Whaddya say," she said.

"Well, you knew when you asked it was gonna be your decision, but it's nice to see you at least allow me the illusion that I have a say in it," I laughed.

"You do have a say, dear. The Grossman's have a service they've been using for a while. Claim their trustworthy and good at what they do.

"And, husband mine, again, you do have a say in it; it's no illusion. I love you, you know," she said.

"Yeah right," I said. "Call Henry or Meg tomorrow and find out how to set it up if you haven't already. Since it's no live-in thingy it's not a problem for me."

We talked, danced, had a little too much to drink, and went home and did things that would have been mortal sins had we not been married. God how I loved this woman's tits and ass. ******

I was late, and the scene I walked in on was nothing if not strange-no- melancholy-no, strange.

"Marian?" I said. She had not been this nervous, upset, whatever since our wedding day.

"Bill, something really odd-unusual has happened. You need to keep your cool-okay?" she said.

"You cheated on me?" I laughed. I knew she hadn't.

"Smartass," she said. "No, but you need to keep your cool. Okay?"

"Yes, of course. Whatever you say," I said.

"You remember last week we talked about getting someone to help me around the house a couple of days a week. You know, cleaning, ironing, doing the laundry and stuff?" she said.

"Yes, I remember," I said, still smirking. "Just cut to the chase, okay? You hire somebody?"

She paced back and forth a few times. "Yes, well, okay, follow me into the den," she said. I did as she said.

I saw them immediately. "Zoe! Caroline! What the fu… " I started.

"You promised to keep your cool, Bill," said Marian, short shanking me. I looked at her; I looked at my ex and my daughter for the first time in three years; Caroline was a full blown woman and quite beautiful. "These are our cleaning ladies," said Marian.

"Excuse me?" I said. I'd heard what she'd said, but I still wasn't with it.

"They've fallen on hard times, Bill. I called the service. Zoe and Caroline were the responders. They didn't know this was our house. Trust me when they showed up I was even more surprised than you were; they were too, I guess. We didn't get much work done today, none of us," she said.

"Hard times? Huh?" I said.

"The stock market, Bill," said Zoe. "It ruined us. But, at least Caroline and I have decent jobs. We get by. We're fine. Humiliated, now, here, but fine."

"They wanted to run away as soon as they realized what was goin on, Bill. But, I caught up with them and asked them to stay and wait for you. Had I not it would have just been a long and dragged out scene: you checking up on them, them afraid to hear from you; well, you get what I'm saying, I'm sure," she said.

"You did right, Marian," I said. I looked over at Zoe. "So, did the asshole kick you out? Must've been hard on him being poor, maybe having to get a job? You two payin' 'his' way now?" I was being caddy, but I couldn't help myself.

"I guess this was a mistake," said Zoe, "we'll be going. Marian, thanks for lunch-and-what you tried to do." She rose and pulled at Caroline to leave, who, by the way, had so far said or done nothing except to sniffle a little bit behind her handkerchief.

"No, no, I'm being the asshole now," I said. "Stay please."

"So, you can laugh at us, Bill?" said Zoe.

"Daddy… " said Caroline, speaking, but not finishing, for the first time. I looked her up and down; she figured to be about twenty, now. I wondered about boyfriends or…

"Caroline, Zoe, sit down. Please," I said, getting hold of myself. "It's just-it's all crazy that's all. I mean all that went on before and now this." I spread my hand to indicate the situation. "So what happened exactly?" I said. I was well advised to shut up at that point and let others do the talking.

"The market went bad, and we went broke. It's that simple. We thought about you and what we did to you and everything-but-knowing what you thought of me-us-well…," said Zoe.

"And the-John," I said, biting my tongue. "Where is he?"

"He divorced me to protect me from the legal and financial fallout of the crash," said Zoe.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," I said. "He divorced you-why-again?"

"To protect me and Caroline. It's all mixed up legal mumbo jumbo, but he's hurting real bad and didn't want the fallout from it all to destroy me and Caroline; hence, the official, but not real breakup," said Zoe.

"Not real breakup?" I said. "I'm confused."

"Bill," said Marian, "John, it would seem, is not a bad man. He cheated with Zoe on you, and we're all agreed that the two of them should be horsewhipped for that, but they just fell in love. It happens. They hurt you, and now the market has hurt them.

"They know, well Zoe does, how complicated and un-well-un-something this all appears," said my wife. Marian was saving the situation that was clear. I was of a mind to let her; hell, she'd saved me.

"Bill," said Zoe, "John is hurting real bad. He lost everything: house, cars, bank accounts. He's all but homeless. He did have a friend though, that has this cleaning business: Century Maid Service. He was able to get me a job. Caroline helps me; we're a package deal." My ex was smiling now; it was pride if I had it right.

"Caroline? You help your mom in all of this?" I said.

She nodded, "Yes, daddy," she said.

"Where are you staying?" I said.

"They have a small apartment in the Rushmore district," said Marian, interrupting.

"Rushmore? That's kind of a rough area isn't it?" I said. I knew it was.

"Yes, it is," said Marian.

"It's not so bad," said Zoe. "It's warm and cozy. We do all right.

"Look, Bill, we didn't come here looking for a handout or anything. We didn't know this was your place. Anyone can see you're doing good. I mean this house… " She spread her hands to indicate our new digs. "I guess your business hasn't been hit by the market crash like what happened to us, I mean the housing market… I'm happy for you.

"Anyway, we're still here because Marian made sense. It's better that you know now. It'll save a lot of stupid stuff later on.

"And, I'll say it again, Bill, yeah the same old stuff. I do think you might want to be giving your daughter another chance though. She misses you, has all along," said Zoe.

"Momma! I know dad's mad at me. We're not here to beg. We work daddy, and we make an honest living. We're proud of that," said Caroline. I looked her askance.

"You mean like me?" I said. "Like even when I was a garbage collector, like then too?" She looked away. I'd made my point.

"Daddy, I was never ashamed of what you did, really. I just wanted to be with mom; she needed me more, at least I thought that she did. The car and the rest of it were just things added; that stuff was never the biggee that you thought it was," said Caroline.

"And your relationship with-John?" I said. It still rankled that she had chosen him over me. But, maybe I had it wrong. I still wasn't convinced. I'd be talking to my wife by day's end. I had realized for some time that her thinking was pretty straight arrow and usually right on the mark.

"He's a nice man, dad. He doesn't yell like you do either. He treats-treated us well. Dad-he is not an asshole. Please get that. He's not my dad, and he never will be. But, he's an okay guy, a good guy.

"But-you're my daddy, and I will never abandon you in any real sense," said my daughter. I was conflicted. I suppose logically, what she said, what Marian had said and Zoe, was not all that far of the truth. But, I was still the very badly hurt victim of a cheating wife, five years gone or not.

I was in a position to exact searing revenge if I so wanted. I recalled something that Lionel had told me: "The best revenge is being a success."

"Zoe, Caroline, I am not going to pretend that I am okay with what you did to me. You Zoe cheating on me, and you Caroline hanging with-John Kursk-instead of with your daddy. It hurt then and it still hurts, and it hurts very badly. But…

"It's water under the bridge. And, I got lucky; I found Marian, or she found me; I don't know which. I'm happy, scarred inside I won't try to fool you, but happy the way things have turned out for me. That said…

"The cleaning service you work for, is it big?" I said.

"Well, yes, I think so," said Zoe. "I know there are quite a few ladies doing homes out of it. Pays pretty good. We get twenty-five percent of the action; it's pure commission though. We have to buy our own health insurance and stuff; but we're getting by."

"Hmm." I glanced over at Marian. Her eyes lighted up. She knew what I was thinking.

"Zoe, this is the deal. I think I can help you, I mean if you want. You may be doing okay, but you are living in Rushmore. Caroline is my daughter. You were once the love of my life, and I still hold a place for you in my heart, God help me.

"Anyway, You two head on home for tonight. I have some things to talk to Marian about. We'll call you tomorrow. You got a cell?" I said.

"No, not yet," she said. "But, we were planning on getting one next month. She gave me a card with her employer's office number, of course Marian already had that, but I took it anyway. The two of them left. Caroline did run back and give me a peck on the cheek before running out.

After they had gone, I looked over at Marian. "Well?" I said.

"Buy the business," she said. "I know you're thinking about it. Looks like it might be a good investment.

"Uh-Bill?" she said, tentatively.

"Yes?" I said.

"I paid them for the week, Bill. They're getting by, but barely. I know you picked up on it," said Marian. I just nodded. I was glad she'd paid them, but I also didn't want them thinking handouts were what I was into. I actually, wondered if they'd planned to be back to clean.

Marian did call them the next day and set up a cleaning schedule for them and had, as it turned out, gotten them a couple of new high end clients. They were properly grateful.

They, the pair of them, did come back on Thursday, and did a good job. My clothes were pressed real nice. I wondered if it had been Zoe or Caroline, but I never asked.

Four weeks after that first, very strange, meeting. Marian called me at work to tell me everything had gone through as planned. She'd arranged a dinner at Sammy's for the four of us.

"Nice of you to invite us, Marian," said Zoe as she and Caroline arrived. Marian nodded in my direction. "You too, of course, Bill. And, nice to see you again." I nodded back.

We ate first talking about our day, week, the time since We'd last seen them the month before. It was nice. Caroline kept shooting glances at me as the evening progressed.

Marian looked over at me. I signaled for her to take the lead. "Ladies," said Marian, "we, Bill and I, have something to ask of you. Would that be okay?" Our two guests gave their assent.

"Sure," said Zoe. "What can we do for you?" She actually seemed excited to do something for us. "We need you to run a business for us. I would be keeping the books and making the appointments et cetera, but I-we-need someone to handle the everyday operations," said Marian. Her demeanor had been ultra intense-serious.

"Huh?" said Zoe. She had been initially listening, then trying to catch on to the meaning of what she was hearing, then giving up and waiting to say-"huh." She had achieved the last of these stages, and that grandly. "I don't understand," she said.

"We acquired, over the past few weeks Century Maids. We own it," said Marian. Bill and I could not stand by and see his daughter living in Rushmore, nor you either, Zoe. So we determined to leave you independent, but to guarantee your economic safety, if that's the right term."

"Bill?" said Zoe. She looked at me with wrinkled brow.

"It's just like Marian said, Zoe. How much you make is up to you. You and Caroline, I guess. Marian and I are taking twenty-five percent of the net for bankrolling the operation, and we hope you can make us some money. The rest of the take is yours. The old manager is being kept on as an office manager. She can help you with all of the ins and outs of the business until you learn the ropes.

"Marian and I will not interfere, but we'll be your back up if necessary. So whaddya say. You want the job. It's a no strings attached deal," I said.

Zoe looked over at Caroline. "Caroline?" she said.

"Oh yes, mom. We will get to see dad and Marian sometimes too. Right, dad?" she said. I smiled and nodded.

"Sure," I said.

"Bill this is better than I deserve. I thank you. Marian…," said Zoe

Things got a little mushy after that, but the night had had at least a positive ending. Zoe knew she'd screwed up those few years ago. Caroline was finally getting an idea of what was really important in life, and everybody was safe if not absolutely thrilled with the outcome. Well, almost everybody. There was still John Kurst. ******

"What'll yuh have John," said Mikey, his ever lovin' bartender.

"A cup of hemlock would be good," said John.

"Ain't got none of that. You'll have to settle for a double Jack Daniels," said Mikey. "That's a close as we got."

"Well then, lay it on me," said John. He sat slumped forward head in his hands waiting for his liquid salvation to arrive.

Mikey returned with the eighty proof elixir, and the customer downed half of it hoping for a quick attenuation of his pain. A year earlier he'd been loaded with money and influence. Now, the only kind of loaded he got was the alcoholic kind.

His family had been forced to split up. He wondered how many divorces were done to save the wife from being possibly screwed over by the IRS-among others. It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done to give up his wife. Well, he thought, maybe he deserved it; he'd cuckolded another guy; then, stole his wife and kid. What went around came around for sure, he knew; he was actually living that nightmare.

Mikey came to his table and eyed him. "John, you know it's none of my business. Tell me to butt out and I will, but Zoe is doing pretty good I hear. When was the last time you talked to her?" he said.

"A couple of months ago. We were tryin' to see each other every night before that, but my lawyer says it wasn't the smartest thing to do until I got my feet on the ground financially again. Said they might try to go after her if they thought that the divorce we went through was bogus," said John.

"Well, the way I hear it, Zoe and the girl are running some kind of cleaning business, and doing pretty well. I think her ex is somehow involved too, but I'm not sure about that, or in what way," said Mikey. John looked at him with wrinkled brow.

John looked away, "No, they are working at the cleaning business right enough, but they're just flunkies not owners or anything. And, I know for a fact that Zoe's ex won't have anything to do with either them because of Zoe and me cuckolding him and Caroline wanting to stay with her mom and me."

"Hmm, maybe, but I don't think so. You might want to give Zoe a call. There's something there; I'm sure of it," said Mikey. "Besides if it's been a couple of months, she'd probably like to be hearin' from yuh?" said Mikey.

"Yeah, I guess I will at least call her. Hah! Maybe if she's making a lot of money she can loan me a sawbuck," said John. "Then I could pay my tab here." His laugh had no mirth in it.

Mikey smirked. "Hell, if she is running a company maybe she'll hire yuh," he said. John looked at him.

"Maybe she would if she owned it or ran it," said John, "but, I know she doesn't own it or run it. It hasn't been that long since I talked to her. She would have told me if something that big had gone down."

"Hmm, maybe," said Mikey. ******

"Caroline get the solvent for the counter tops, will you?" said Zoe.

Mother and daughter still did some of the cleaning themselves in spite of being managers, but only for a few selected clients. Zoe had learned from hard experience that sitting in an office and pushing paper was not the way to make a business run well; they had an office manager to do that. One day a week they got their hands dirty and the other days they monitored their help out in the field. Time in the office was mainly Saturday mornings and Wednesday evenings. The business was doing fine mainly because of their methods.

"Mom, there's someone at the door. You want me to get it?" said Caroline.

"Never mind, just get the solvent, I'll get the door," said Zoe. She marched to the front entrance of the Grey's residence. She had been told to expect a package delivery and had been tasked to sign for it. The Greys were good customers and both Zoe and Caroline had been befriended by Constance Grey and her husband Rob.

He stared at her with puppy dog eyes. "Hi Zoe," said John Kursk.

"John! How did you know…"

"I went to the cleaning service to find out. Helen, your office manager…"

"Yes, yes, she knows you. Come in, come in," said Zoe. "Is it okay for you to be here, John. I don't want to get you in trouble. I mean after what your lawyer said…"

"Well, I don't know for sure. But, I'm gonna risk it today. I have to. I won't stay long. I just needed to see you. I heard you were running the store now, but I can see you're still working in the field.

"Zoe you deserve so much more than this. I feel so bad about us, about everything," he said.

She reached out and touched his cheek. Come here you big lug," she said. "It's not your fault. I know that business can be hard sometimes. Hard on people that is. You'll be fine; we all will. Things'll turn around. You'll see.

"But, you're wrong about one thing, John, I am running the company now. It's-it's complicated."

"Huh?" he said.

"To make a long story short. A couple of months ago, the same week I saw you last actually," she said, "Caroline and I showed up at a mansion to clean it up. We didn't know it until we got there, but it was Bill's place. We were kinda trapped, Caroline and I. His wife made us stay to face up to Bill.

"Anyway, we made our peace with him, and left. But, a few weeks later, for reasons known only to him, he bought the business and essentially gave it to me to run. I took it, John. I would have told you, but I didn't know how. I was afraid you might not understand. I was intending to call you soon to fess up. Caroline has been after me to do it, and I was about to-but-now-here you are," she said.

He looked at her as at an apparition. "You mean he's that wealthy now?" he said.

"Yes," she said. He sagged against the wall.

"Heck of a thing, dontcha think? I mean a few years ago it was me with the money chasing you, and taking you away from him; and now, it's him with the money, and I guess he'll be getting his revenge on me. The irony is beyond telling. Can't blame him, I guess. I did screw him over pretty good," said John.

"John it was the both of us that cheated on him and made him our cuckold. But, no, he is not looking for revenge. I won't say he's forgotten what we did to him, but he's over the emotional part of it.

"John, I have to ask, how are you doing? I mean really," she said. "Not so hot. Still owe a quarter mother-in-law that I can't pay, and I don't have a job. I do get a little help here and there from old friends, and I have a place to stay that a friend is giving me gratis. You know him too, old Rigel Macris; he came to my rescue there," he said.

Neither of the conversants had noticed, but Caroline was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, not quite in plain sight, but seeable if they looked directly at her. John did that now.

"Caroline! I didn't see you there, girl. How are you?" he said.

"Good, John." She came to him and gave him a hug. "John, mom and I could ask daddy to help you out. I think he would."

Her ex-stepdad smiled. "Not too likely, girl, he hates me, and with good reason."

Zoe looked at her daughter, and then back to the man. "John, I'm the company manager, the operations chief. I could hire you. I'm sure that Bill would not get in the way. He really has put what we did to him behind him.

"There might be a bit of crow eating when we ask him, but we both deserve a little of that for sure," said. Zoe. "John, this is not the time to let our egos dictate our behavior. At least you'd have a good job."

"Zoe, thanks for the offer, but housework? I'd be the worst employee you ever had," he said. He actually laughed at the suggestion. Zoe however was not laughing.

"No, not housework for you. I need a driver, someone to handle picking up and delivering supplies. It's five bills a week and the usual benefits. It might help get some of those who are hounding you to back off so they can get their money in installments. John, it's a start."

He spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Beggars can't be choosers, I guess," he said. "And, it would get me to where I could at least see you. I really do miss you, Zoe."

"I miss and love you too," said Zoe. Caroline looked on interested. ******

The four of them sat at the table on the far side of the room from the bar. Millie the drink deliverer had just deposited her cargo, and had retreated to another part of the bistro.

"Zoe what is this about," I said. I'd gotten the call early that morning. Zoe had asked to meet me and Marian at the club; she had something to say to me. Seeing my nemesis sitting across from me and immediately next to Zoe, as though for comfort or safety or something, did not make me feel real good.

"Bill, I, we, need your help," she said. I continued staring at her. "Bill, I want to hire my husband? Well, my ex-husband. Can I?"

"What the fu… " I stopped and tried to calm down. Marian took over.

"You mean to work at the service?" said Marian.

"Yes, as you know I need a driver, and John needs a Job-real bad," said Zoe. He now spoke for the first time.

"Bill, how are you. Well, I hope. Bill, things are tough right now. I wouldn't be here hat in hand humiliating myself if I had a choice. But-well-Zoe convinced me to come and ask if she could-I mean if I could-well, work for you. I know I fucked up in the past, but well…"

"You have brass balls for sure, Mr. Kursk. Why me? Why not some other business. Surely, you know people who you used to deal with that would hire you?' I said.

"Hah! I wish I did. I've become something of a pariah if you want to know. I even had to divorce Zoe-who I love just as much as you ever did, Bill, no matter what you think-just so I wouldn't be draggin' her down with me. Anyway, that's the long and the short of it. If you could see your way clear to hire me, I promise I'd do a good job for you," he said.

"John, We'll hire you. You start Monday. Zoe will give you the info you need," said Marian, taking charge of the situation. I looked at her with disbelief written all over me, I was sure. "Bill, you've forgiven, Zoe; we're taking all of the hurt of the past and dumping it. We're taking this thing to the next level." I nodded; she was the boss.

John looked at me. He didn't have the brass effrontery to try and shake my hand, but he did whisper what I thought was a sincere thank you. I nodded in his direction my acceptance of his offering.

We had a couple of drinks after the meeting, the four of us, before heading out. John and I spoke a few words about the market and how he'd gotten caught up in the crash. Zoe was profuse in her gratitude, but she spoke mainly to Marian.

The meeting and the hiring of the man who had stolen my wife and daughter was over, and I had okayed him working for us. For me it was a very big deal. But it was but a drop in the proverbial bucket compared to what Marian laid on me about two weeks later.

"Bill, you know, your ex and I have become very good friends, don't you?" she said. I nodded.

"Yeah, I know. It's okay by me. I'm over her now," I said.

"I know. Well, we have become kind close," she said. She seemed to be nervous about something. I looked her askance.

"What?" I said, not having a clue what she was trying to say.

"I gave them the money," said Marian. She looked as if she wanted to run.

"Huh? Money? What money? Did I miss some part of the conversation here?" I said. She didn't say anything for some moments. The phone rang. I picked it up. Marian looked relieved at the interruption.

"Who?… Zoe?… Yes, Zoe, yes, I'm fine… no need to thank me… I hear he's doing a good job… no… not that… then what?… What!… Oh that," I fairly spat looking daggers at my wife. "Yeah sure… you're welcome," I said. We said our goodbyes, and I hung up. I stared at my wife like I didn't know her.

"I was about to tell you," she said.

"Are you kiddin me? A quarter million. A quarter fucking million!" I fairly screamed at her.

"They want to get remarried, but they dare not with those debts hanging over their heads. We have the money; it's nothing to us, but it will give the mother of your child a new start. And, they're not getting the money, the IRS is, and a few other of his old creditors.

"Bill, you'd have done it yourself eventually to pull her out of the hole she's in. I know you. I just made it easy for you. Heck this is your revenge: you've saved them. It has to be sweet for you," she said.

I sank into a chair at the table. I looked at her, looked away, and looked back at her again. I smiled. You know, I hate to say it, but I think you're right," I said. I smiled the smile of the Olympic champion. I happened to look over at the clock. It was 5:27PM; things had come full circle.

-----------------------------

   Series:Beauty and the Beast
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Good looking he ain't, but needy he is.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/69596/beauty-and-the-beast
Published:2011-10-30
Sittin' here thinkin', like usual, is a bummer. Been doin' a lot of it lately, sittin' on a bar stool. The thinkin's mostly 'bout women. I like women. Hell, who doesn't? Problem for me is they ain't exactly beatin' down my door tryin' to get to me. I'm the beast in the drama, right? So where's my goddamn beauty! Answer, nowhere I know of. But, I'm a realist.

Like I'm sayin', pretty I ain't; hell, I got more in common with Quasimodo than Tom Cruise. When I was young, it made a difference; it bothered me, a lot: got me into a lot of fights-won most of them though. Now, in my thirties, it no longer does-bother me that is-well, that's what I keep telling myself. Helluva thing.

Who am I? I'm Oscar Church; Ozzie or Oz to my friends: six-two, one ninety, balding, and really-really not pretty. Yeah, and I know it and I deal with it. Long face, pinched nose, gray eyes too close together, and actual scars left over from major bouts with acne when I was young.

Girlfriends? None whatsoever, I mean almost never; I mean I really almost never had one. A couple when I was in the army is all, Filipinas, but no more. Last piece of ass cost me a hundred; the one before that sixty-five dollars-hey, it's all I had, and she was an amateur. Career, well, it ain't a career exactly; I clean up, do minor repairs, and occasionally a little bouncing at Santoro's place-uh-bar, seven nights a week. Good money though. Three bills a week tax free and a place to shack up in the back. Hard to beat that if I do say so.

Sittin' here thinkin' 'bout women is gettin' me nowhere. What I'd really like to be doin' is gettin' married. Hell yes I would! It'd be nice, I think, maybe, possibly. Anyway, just wanna try it, okay! Just wanna try it, I mean bein' married to a real honest to goodness woman. I'm thinkin' that'd be real good. Yeah, real good.

Two tours for Uncle Sam a decade gone made me tough, mean, and evil. Did a buncha stuff in the army, killed me some stinkies; but, learned me no goddamn fancy career-they'd lied to me 'bout that. Really pissed me off too. I wanted to do that computer stuff, but my fucking test scores weren't no good. Oh, they, my scores, were good enough to get me in; but instead of to school to learn computers, they learned me how to shoot and fight-I already knew how to do those-oh yeah, and crawl real quiet in really wet mud. But hey, I did get to travel some: Iraq, Iran, a couple of other places, but none of them were worth a shit.

"Oz, you daydreaming again?" said Amos. Amos Carter is my bud and the head barkeep at Santoro's.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "It's either that or spend all night talking to you." I was all but laughing.

"Yeah, well you could do worse," he said, throwing his bar towel in my direction. I caught it.

"Yeah, I reckon so," I said. "Anyway, I'm gonna be takin' a walk; I gotta get some air." I tossed a five spot down and pushed back from the bar. He waved at me as I slid off the stool and headed out. I shivered; the night air was cold. I'd gone maybe five or six blocks. To my left was a gas station with a combo-convenience store. The cold made me want to pee, so I headed inside to take care of my need-some things won't wait.

"Hey guy, where are the heads?" I said. A pasty faced youth looked up.

"Out back, across the parking lot," he said. I headed out and around the building. I could see the little out-building housing the station's restrooms across the parking lot. I saw the light go out in one of the rooms; somebody was finishing up.

The men's was on the left and I started up the three steps. I heard a noise, like a yelp coming from the women's. I heard it again. I went over and was about to knock.

"No!" said a woman's voice. "Please no!" It didn't take no genius to figure out what was going on. I threw open the door. Time stood still.

A man holding a switchblade turned to see who was interrupting his business. A woman with torn clothes and with her genitals exposed lay on the toilet floor.

"Motherfucker!" said the bladist. He came at me. The knife hand came out and thrust toward me. I grabbed the assailant's wrist, twisted it, bent the arm backward snapping it. I drove the point deep into the man's torso and twisted his wrist; he was dead even if he didn't know it yet. He began to sink floorward. I let loose the man's now dangling arm.

I turned my attention to the woman. She'd already been raped, that was clear, and she'd been about to be murdered. She stared at me. Her eyes were open wide and unblinking.

"Ma'am?" I said. She had pulled herself into an even tighter fetal ball. "Ma'am, it's okay. He's done."

I reached for her hand. I wanted to get her out of the freakin' bathroom. She pulled away from me. I backed away. I pulled my new cell phone; I hoped I still had enough minutes. I punched in 911. As I spoke to the faceless woman on the other end of the line, the victim whimpered. God I felt bad for her! It was tough being a woman, I guess.

We were soon surrounded by a mess of local cops. Amazing how a dead body can generate interest on the part of them guys, not to mention the media. I'd stayed with the woman until the arrival of the police and the EMT guys. I was questioned and released. Apparently the bad guy was well known to the uniforms. One policeman actually congratulated me for killing the asshole. I didn't feel all that good about it, but I'd killed enough in the Middle East so that one more stinky made exactly zero difference to me.

One night of excitement and then back to the grind. I never did get to talk to the woman, that is, not that night. Didn't know her name, nothin'. The cops and EMTers got her out of there and to the hospital pretty quick. I wondered how she was, but after a couple of days, memory of her began to fade.

One Month later:

It was Thursday night, 10pm, and I was fixin' an electrical wire in the kitchen. Cal Robey, the main cook at Santoro's was pissed because his refrigerator wasn't cooling like it was supposed to. A looker, that I had never seen before, came into the back where I was working.

"The bathrooms are out there and to the right," I said, pointing toward the double doors she'd just come through as she approached me.

"Bathrooms? Oh, no, I don't need the restroom," she said.

"Okay. I know it ain't me you're looking for," I said. "So whaddya need?"

"You," she said. I gave her a look.

"Me? What? I mean what would a woman lookin' like you want with a guy who looks like me?" I said.

"Hey, you ain't accusin' me of somethin' are yuh?" I said. "I ain't done nothin' wrong." All of a sudden she had a knitted brow, like she'd just figured something out. She looked-what-embarrassed.

"Huh? Oh no! No, no. I'm not accusing you of anything. Well, actually, I take that back. I sort of am," she said.

"Then what? I said. I know I had suspicion painted all over my face.

"Well," she said, now she was smiling. "I'm accusing you of saving my life. And I have a ton of evidence to prove that you're guilty."

"Huh?" I said.

"A month ago. In back of the Shell station," she said. She smiled, undoubtedly because I was becoming red-faced.

"Oh-the girl-in the bathroom-at the station," I said. "You look real different."

"Yes, the girl in the bathroom. The girl you saved from the man who was going to kill her. I'm Belinda Shafer," she said, stretching out her hand to shake mine.

"Ozzie-uh-Oscar, Oscar Church. Nice to-uh-meet yuh," I said. "I mean we already met, but…"

"Same here for sure. And yes, I guess you could say we did kind of meet before, but not formally. Can I ask you a question Ozzie? You don't mind if I call you Ozzie?" She said.

"Okay. And no-I mean you can call me Ozzie if you want," I said.

"Would you have dinner with me. I feel like-well-like I'd like to get to know my savior a little better," she said. I stared at her. Girls that looked like her made it a point to "not" talk to me. Yeah, I knew this was different: I'd saved her. But, dinner with her? Even if it wasn't a real date, I knew I'd never again have a shot like this one. Hell, I figured, I might even get a pretty good thank you kiss out of it, and I hadn't had a female kiss me in a coon's age.

"Okay. Sure-I mean fine," I said. She smiled.

"Great. Saturday night?" she said.

"Sure, sure, I'll get it off, and we can go someplace nice," I said. "I can afford it. You wouldn't think it, but I make some good bucks here." She frowned.

"Ozzie, this dinner, that we're going to have; it's on me. And, you're right; it will be someplace real nice," she said. She was smiling again. I was glad about that, but her payin'? That weren't gonna happen. Ain't no woman ever paid my way. She weren't gonna be the first, not hardly.

"Sure. Okay," I said, but I had my fingers crossed behind my back. Now we were both smiling big time. We talked for a few minutes about what time and how dressy and stuff, and then she was gone.

I didn't have a car, but I wanted to pick her up. She'd offered to drive, but I had not been goin' for that. So, I picked her up in a cab. She'd argued with me about that-gently-but had finally given in.

When she opened the door, she took my breath away. Short purple dress, high heels, fantastic rack and ass, the face of an angel, shoulder length black hair, dark eyes that positively sparkled, full lips clearly capable of destroying a man: everything was perfect. Me on the other hand…

I wore my bud Amos' suit. He was my size and I'd bought a new tie and a new pair of shoes to go with the outfit. I looked pretty good, well, for me.

I had the cabbie deliver us to the Crescendo, a dinner club that I knew about, heard about, but had never been to. I knew too that it was top of the line price-wise; but this was my chance. My chance to date a star quality woman. McDonald's, much as I loved their burgers, just wouldn't cut it.

"Nice choice, Ozzie. I mean real nice," she said. I smiled.

"Glad you like it," I said. I was feelin' real good.

The place had menus three foot tall. But, at least the damn things were in English. I got a look from the maître d' when we came in; she got a smile. Well, hell, I could relate.

We ate, we danced a little, three dances; and yes, I can dance. I'm not totally without social skills: I'd been in the freakin' army. But, not having had any practice in a long while, I was kinda rusty. Still, we got through it okay. We had a little wine, and I was feeling kinda mellow. I guess so was she.

"Let's get out of here, Oz. Let's go to my place for a night cap. Okay?" she said. I think my look must've have cued her about what I was thinking. And, it didn't seem to bother her a whit.

"Sure," I said. I signaled the waitress, asked for the check and a cab. The check came. It read a hundred and sixty-two bucks. I slipped two C-notes in the little black leather folder the check came in, and smiled the smile of the one who'd won the race.

"Ozzie! I can't let you pay for dinner. I invited you. You have to let me pay you back. I mean it," she said. She was reaching into her purse. I reached across and closed it with one hand.

"No way, Belinda. This has been the best night of my life. I'm payin' and happy as a pig in… well, real happy that's all," I said.

"But…"

"No buts. I'm the guy. I pay," I said. She gave me a frustrated look, sighed, and allowed me to help her up from her chair.

"Okay, but that means you're definitely getting two night caps tonight, and no arguments!" she said. I spread my hands in a sign of surrender.

"Okay," I said. "I could use a little extra eighty proof reinforcement." She gave me a funny look, but I let it slide; I had other things on my mind.

The cab pulled up just as we exited the club. She slid over next to me and I put my arm around her; she cuddled up next to me for the ride to her house. I was feelin' fine, fine-fine super fine. Maybe this was gonna work out.

The driver got us to her place in twenty minutes. He helped her out of the car; I paid him, and we went inside her apartment building.

She led me up the steps, punched in the pass code on the pad at the door and we were in the foyer. Taking me by the hand she led me to the elevator. She hit the tab for the eleventh and top floor and leaned back against me. The smell of her was intoxicating. She reminded me of a summer night in the woods.

Arriving on her floor, the elevator door actually opened into her place, not into the hall in front of her place but her place; there was no hall. "Have a seat over there, Ozzie, I'll be back in half a minute."

"Okay," I said. I looked around. The place must've cost a fortune to live in. It looked like-no-it was a penthouse. A penthouse! My date had bucks, big bucks. It kinda shook me. Miss Shafer was way out of my class-money-wise.

True to her word, she was back in less than a minute. She handed me a stem glass with what was undoubtedly some high class red wine: no dago red for this woman; I'd have to be remembering that one. "Here you go Ozzie. I'll be back in just a few more minutes, okay?" she said.

"Sure bet," I said. And she was gone again. This time for maybe five minutes. When she returned, I noticed two things. One, she had a glass of wine for herself. And two, she was wearing a see-thorough teddy with absolutely nothing under it! I gulped my wine, and I mean all of it, and stared.

"You like the wine?" she said. I nodded, kinda slow, but I nodded.

"Yes. It's very-red," I said. "Almost as red as my face, I'm sure." She giggled.

"Well, yes, you are blushing," she said.

"No shit!" I said. She came to me, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me oh so gently on the lips.

"Take me, Ozzie. Tonight is for you and me. And before you ask, yes, I will gladly fuck any boy who saves my life." We both laughed, me a little hysterically.

"Well, then, I'll just have to make sure that I'm around a lot to make sure I'm always the guy saving the damsel in distress," I said. She gave me a serious look, then brightened, and led me down the hallway to what I was sure was going to be the bedroom. It was, and we used it.

She moved over to where the bed was and stood beside it with her arms folded smirking. She watched as I disrobed. I didn't exactly hurry, but I wasn't letting any grass grow under my feet either.

Maybe a minute later, I was naked and staring at the now also naked most beautiful woman in the world. There was not the slightest doubt in my mind about that. I went to her, bent down some, and kissed her lightly on the lips. As I did, I felt my cock poke into her leg. She responded with such delicate skill that I thought that I might die from happiness right then and there, and that with no complaints whatsoever.

She pulled me down and onto the bed, kissed me, and pushed my face onto the nipple of her breast. I suckled for some little time; she mooed as I did so. I slid down her body and looked at the gate to paradise; I kissed her there, then licked her, then sucked on her clit till she howled. Then, I did something that I'd never done with a woman: I turned her over and made love to her anus. She turned her head to try and see me, but that was a no go; so she just relaxed and let me do her. I sucked on her little brown sphincter as I had on her clit; I heard her sigh.

Turning her over one more time, I loomed above her and smiled: I hoped reassuring her that I was going to be gentle. I knew I was kind a big at six and a half inches, and the absolutely last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.

"It's okay, Ozzie, just put it inside of me; do me; do me now," she said. I lowered myself and I slipped the head of my dick into her easily. I push-pulled a few times finally burying myself deep inside of her.

She kicked wildly as I began to climax. "Make me cum, make me cum!" she screamed. Then she shivered; she'd made it; I was sure of it.

We lay, if not exactly exhausted, at least mildly out of breath. "That was wonderful, Ozzie. You're pretty good at this stuff aren't you," she said. I rolled onto my side and looked at her. I'd never been so happy.

"Good at it?" I said. "Well, it's not like I've had a lot of practice, but I guess I do okay." She gave me a funny look.

"It was good for you, right?" she said. Her brow was knitted.

"Good for me? No, no, it wasn't that," I said.

"Ozzie-I… " I smiled and started to laugh outright.

"Belinda, this was the best night I've had in my whole life. Ever!" I said. She relaxed, then put on the knitted brow again; but she didn't say anymore.

I didn't want her to cook breakfast, so as soon as the sun interrupted the relatively short span of sleep that we'd enjoyed, I headed for the shower and cleaned up. I didn't have a razor or any other of my man stuff, but I did the best I could.

Finished showering, dressed, and fully awake, I sat down on the bed beside

my slowly waking beauty. Her beauty to my beast.

Belinda was short at maybe five-two, slim, at no more than a hundred pounds, and delicate of movement. Watching her as she became wakeful she reminded me of Tinkerbell in those old Disney flicks.

"Howdy, sleepy head," I said, as her eyes fluttered open-those beautiful eyes. "Are you up for going out to breakfast?"

She smiled. "Okay, sure, but get outta here, so I can do my morning ritual. Okay?" she said.

"Sure bet, I'll wait in the other room," I said. She nodded and made a shooing motion with her arms. I laughed and went out.

The light of day exposed a view of the city that was quite-something.

I looked around again. I had a little time, so I was able to see a lot more detail. Her place really was a penthouse apartment. A helluva a lot different than my little cubby in the back area of Santoro's bar.

I was pretty nearly broke because of what it'd cost me for our evening at the Crescendo. But, I still had maybe fifty bucks left in my wallet, and maybe another five hundred in the ATM. I decided to take us to IHOP. Hope she liked strawberry international. One concession I made to her wanting to do the payin' was that I let her drive us this time, that in her powder-blue Buick; it'd save me twenty for the cab fare.

The place was busy, and it was still only a little after eight in the morning when we arrived. As soon as we were seated, the waitress arrived with menus and coffee; you gotta love efficiency.

We ordered, and ate. Oh, and we both had strawberry international. We talked about nothing and everything while we were chowing down. Then it was time for our second cup of coffee.

I was smiling to beat the band. I'd never gotten a woman without having to lay out the moolah: well, except for that stint in Manila while I was in the army; that'd been good duty.

"Busy next Saturday?" I said. "I was thinkin' maybe we could go for a drive or somethin'." Her look suddenly took on a decidedly questioning cast.

"Ozzie?" she said.

"Yes," I said. "Something wrong? Saturday not good for you?"

"Ozzie-let me think about it. Okay?" she said. The smile returned. "I'll call you later in the week. Okay?"

"Sure bet," I said. "That'd be good. We talked a little while longer and then it was time to leave. She gave me a kiss, and offered me a ride. I declined. Santoro's was only half mile off, and I figured to burn off a few of those calories.

"Sandy Gifford, I did not lead him on. I let him fuck me for goodness sakes. I owed him more than a thank you for damn sure, a lot more." said Belinda. "I-I wanted to reward him."

"Right, and a guy like him is right now figuring out how he's gonna be paying for the rings. Trust me. I've been in that bar a hundred times, and I know Ozzie Church real good, not really personally, but pretty good. I'd be surprised if he's had a piece of ass in the last year that he didn't have to pay for! You giving him your twat without so much as a warning that it was just a reward, and not an expression of love eternal, has set him up for a real bad day. I mean it Bell, you gotta tell him and that without dragging things out. The longer you wait the worse it's going to get."

"Sandy, you're exaggerating. Sure, he liked it-well-what we did; he's a guy for goodnesssakes. But, we don't know each other at all. He's not going to fall in love with me just because I let him have my ass. That would be stupid."

"Stupid? Of course it'd be stupid. He's a guy isn't he!" said Sandy.

"I don't know, Sandy. I guess it wouldn't hurt to set things straight with him. You know, kinda cut him off at the pass before it goes too far. But, how?"

"I'm thinkin', I'm thinkin'; give me a minute, okay?" said Sandy. Belinda sagged back into the couch she'd been sitting in during the conversation.

"Yeah, well take two minutes. I'm desperate here. I mean the guy saved my life. I mean literally saved my life! Now, if you're right, I may have to ruin his dreams. No problem, right. I can just see how the conversation will go…

"Hey guy, you saved me. I'm so grateful that I let you do something you'd only dreamed about. Oh what's that, you ask? You're wondering what that is? Well, look here guy. See where I'm pointing? That's my pussy. You got to have it for a night, with no limits. Ain't you the luckiest ugly shit in the whole wide world!

"Yeah, girlfriend, he's gonna totally understand. Shit!" said Belinda.

"Look," said Sandy, "here's what we're going to do."

It was the same IHOP I'd taken her to two days past. I was more nervous than I had ever been. Jesus, I hoped I hadn't done anything to queer my relationship with her. I jumped when she came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hi Oz. You look nice," she said. Well, I had dressed for the occasion. No mistakes, I didn't want to make no mistakes.

"Thanks, you look like a million bucks," I said. She smiled.

"Thanks," she said. I nodded.

"You wanna eat?" I said. It was already three in the afternoon, I figured it would only be coffee, but who knew? Maybe she'd wanna eat somethin'.

"No, no, nothing, thank you," she said. I had a bad feeling. Not even coffee? I had a really bad feeling. I took a sip of mine. She took a seat across from me.

"Oz, you became one of the most important people in my life a little more than a month ago. If you hadn't-well-been there, I wouldn't be here.

The other night, when we did-well-what we did, Oz, it was me rewarding you. I gave myself to a man who will always be a part of me. But, Oz, all it was, well, it was my gratitude to you for what you did. The chance you took. Oz, I am not in love with you. And, you're not in love with me. Heck, we hardly know each other.

I sat stock still while she spoke. I know my lips moved, well quivered, but no words came out; I had no words. I'd had the bad feeling that it was gonna be really bad; even worse than I thought, much worse. She was saying that she didn't want to see me no more. She was sayin' it without sayin' it. "Okay," I said. "I understand." She smiled and placed her hand on mine.

"Ozzie, the last thing I want to do is hurt you, disappoint you. I should have done things differently. I made a huge mistake… " she saw the look on my face and immediately tried to make me feel better. "No Oz, not that. I do not regret giving myself to you, and you were great. I meant that I should have let you know that I'm kinda, well, in a relationship."

I sagged back in my seat. "A relationship? But-I mean-we had sex. Your boyfriend…"

"Yes, I know, and I told him-afterwards-about it. Charlie Jensen's his name; well, he understood. He didn't even get mad at me; he understood. He and I-well-we're good.

"Oz, what we, you and I did, was kinda crazy. I do like you; hell, how could I not. But…"

"Yeah, I know. But, it's not the romantic kind of like," I said.

"I'm sorry, Oz. I really am."

"I know. Well, have a good life," I said. She nodded, rose, walked a few steps, turned, and mouthed me a kiss. Then she was gone.

I had never felt so low in my life. Did I regret making it with her? I think I did. Not sure why, but I didn't feel good about it, so I must've regretted it. Right?

Well, it wasn't all bad. I still had my health, a good job, and well… that was about it, I guess. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Why was I like I was? Why couldn't I even land a girlfriend? Fucking life! I hated it.

"What's the matter, Oz. One day you're up, next day you're down. Talk to me, Oz. This is your 'ole buddy Amos speaking," he said. I just looked at him and took another swig from the glass in front of me.

"Nothin'," I said. He looked at me funny. I threw a ten spot down on the bar, got up, and left. I heard him say something as I walked out, but I wasn't listening. I was done with this shit. Done with everything. Fucking done with it. If a body's got nothin' and no one; then, what the hell is it all for?

"Were you able to see him?" said Sandy.

"Yes-well no. He's in a coma. Charlie went with me. He'll be here in a second; he's parking the car," said Belinda.

"A coma? Jesus, what was he thinking?" said Sandy.

"And he's busted up pretty bad," said Belinda.

"Why?"

"Because he thinks I dumped him. That or something like that. I don't know. He left a letter. They say suicides always leave a letter. It was addressed to me. Shit! What did I do, Sandy. What the fuck did I do?"

"Bell, you can't blame yourself. What you did was stupid, but not that stupid. There had to be things going on in the guy's head that you had no way to know about."

"Yeah, I guess. I mean obviously. But, what I did set him off. Pushed him over the edge. They can't let him die. They just can't. I called dad. He's retiring in a few months, but he's still at the Pentagon. He's made sure that Ozzie'd be getting the best help available. He'll get better; he has to," said Belinda.

"You speak to the doctors yet?" said Sandy.

"Yes, and so did Charlie," she said. "He says what you said, that he had to have had issues that just came to the surface all of a sudden. Probably didn't know it himself; he just did it-jumped."

"Wow."

"They promised to let me know if-when-he comes out of the coma."

"Bell?"

"What?"

"If-when-he comes to, are you really going to see him? I mean do you think that that would be wise given everything that's gone on so far?" said Sandy.

"Yes, maybe, I don't know. Maybe. What I want to do is kick his high school ass! But-well, I just don't know," said Belinda.

"You know, Bell, I didn't want to say it; but, well, I think that is exactly what you should do. Not physically of course. But, well, verbally. Be frank with him. Tell him like it is. Let him know that you will always be grateful, and more than grateful for him risking his life for you, but tell him he needs to grow up."

"Yes, I think you have a point. Yes, indeed, a very good point," said Belinda.

"Hey Sandy. Bell, where do you want this stuff?" said Charlie, as he shut the door behind himself.

A uniform? An army uniform. Hadn't seen one of those in a while, a long while. "Well, you're awake. It was touch and go for a while there," said the uniform. A major. What was a major doing in my cubby? Wait!

"Touch and go?" I said. "I'm not at Santoro's, am I?" I repeated. The uniform smiled.

"No, you're in Veteran's," he said. "Next time you try to off yourself you might want to do it from a floor or two higher up. The fact that you tried it from the third floor saved you-or not. Depending on your point of view I suppose."

"What are you saying?" I said.

"You don't remember trying to kill yourself? Three people saw you jump. You know, there are actually laws against attempted suicide?" he said.

"Suicide? What… " It was all coming back to me. Belinda-dumping me… the bar… Amos…"

"You were pretty liquored up. I figure that, and the fact that you were too lazy to try it from a little higher up saved you. But, as for that," he looked down at the chart he was holding, "a half dozen broken ribs, a punctured lung, broken arm and leg, subdural hematoma, a bunch of other stuff. Well, I guess I should be thanking you. Your act proved to my colleagues that I really can raise somebody from the dead.

"But, do me a favor will yuh. Next time you go for it, do it when I'm not on vacation. I'd really appreciate it," he said. "Oh, and in case you care, I'm your doctor, Major Clausen."

"How long…?" I said.

"You've been in a coma for the past three months. They called me a while ago when your vitals showed you might be coming out of it. I wanted to be here, so they called me. At any rate, you'll be released after we run a few more tests and make sure you're going to be okay.

"Most of your broken bones are healed, and the swelling of the brain is gone. But, I still have a few concerns, so you won't be moseying outta here right away. Could be another week or more. Any questions?" he said. I shook my head no.

"Oh, and one more thing, you will be seeing a psychologist. Believe it or not the D.A. requires it."

Shit! I'd tried to kill myself. And failed! Fucking wonderful!

The uniform left me to my thoughts. He was followed by a trio of nurses, one right after the other, to do whatever it was that made their day.

The food was bad, the care excellent, and the tests seemingly endless. And on the fourth day of my wakey-uppy I had a visitor.

"Hi Oz," said Belinda. "You feeling better?" She was looking around the hospital room, appraising it. I looked at her; my mouth was hanging open.

"Belinda!" I looked away. I knew she'd seen my letter. Problem was I was alive. I needed to be dead. I needed to be dead now! But, I wasn't. I was stinkin' alive! Fuckin' alive! I couldn't do anything right. Sure as hell not where women were concerned.

"Yes, it's me, Ozzie. And, I have to say I am very angry with you. And, before you say anything else, Oz, you have to promise me never to try something like this again. I've spent these last months hoping and praying that you'd get better. Now, it looks like you will. So, I guess my prayers have been answered. So, don't be messing with God, Oz. Promise me you'll do your damnedest to stay alive. Okay?" she said. I looked away again. I was so ashamed.

"Okay," I said, from under the coverlet. I wanted to say more. To say how beautiful she was. How much I loved her. But, I knew, I just knew that she didn't want to hear any of that. So, I just shut up and stayed covered up. Like a little kid, I pulled the sheet over my head to hide form her. I was sobbing under it. She was quiet for a moment or two. Talk about embarrassing and hurtful situations.

She came to me and pulled the cover from my hands; I was clearly too weak to do anything about it. She looked concerned, very concerned. "Oscar Church, you made me so mad. And, you made me feel so ashamed. And, Oz, you made me feel so special. But, Oz, I'm not in love with you. I treasure you as a friend. But, as a lifetime partner? Oz, I love another," she said. She was being earnest. "He's a good guy too, Oz. You'd like him. I know it.

"Oz, I know you think you love me. We girls, well, we know these things. We pretty ourselves up to make you men adore us, and when you do-sometimes-we go too far. I went too far Oz. I know that now. And, I will never forgive myself for making you do-well-what you did…"

"Belinda, please stop. Okay," I said, finally getting myself under control. She nodded, her turn to look away.

"Okay, Oz. I just…"

"Yeah, I know. Can I just-could you-you know just let me be for a while. I was stupid. I know it. I guess I've always been stupid. I just didn't know it before. I didn't mean to put pressure on you or anything, or hurt your feelings. I'm-I'm just, just an idiot okay. Just go on home, Belinda. Really, I need to be alone. By myself. Okay? Thank you for your concern. It's appreciated," I said.

"Oz-okay. I understand. Oh, and you are not stupid. Not hardly," she said. She touched me on my arm, turned, and walked out. She didn't look back; I was glad for that: I'd already proven I was pussy; I didn't need to be adding to the evidence.

"That man is the saddest man I've ever seen," said Belinda. "He was doing all he could do to not actually bawl in front of me and failing badly by the way. I had to get out of there before he actually broke loose. His humiliation, if I'd stayed in that hospital room to see him cry, would have been pretty much total. Jesus! What am I going to do?"

"Maybe stay the hell away from him?" said Sandy. "You know Charlie is getting a little bit tired of hearing you whine about him all of the time. Charlie's the love of your life, not Oscar Church."

"Yes, I know. I've not been fair to him either lately. It's just…"

"Yes, I know, you need to close the books on Oscar a little more neatly than you've so far been able to. But, Belinda, sometimes it just isn't in the cards. Sometimes folks get hurt, don't get everything they want or even need. It's the way of the world," said Sandy.

"I suppose," said Belinda. "But-but that man needs a woman. I still think that fixing him up with one would be a good thing. We could do it, you and I. I know we could."

"I'm not sure it would be a good idea to meddle anymore in the man's affairs, but it would have the benefit of getting Charlie to relax; that is, if we were successful," said Sandy.

"Belinda? It just so happens that I know someone who might just do."

"What? What did you say?" said Belinda.

"Wilma Crosley. She just broke up with her cheating asshole of a fiancé, Mark Dilfer. I know for a fact that she's looking for a replacement," said Sandy.

"Wilma? I know her too. But, she's so tall, and… " said Belinda.

"She's as tall as Ozzie. Or, maybe a couple of inches shorter. And, yes, I know she's no beauty queen. But, she could be made to look a lot better. I think she's got potential," said Sandy.

"Even if what you say is so, Sandy, are you sure she'd go for a guy like Ozzie?" said Belinda.

"Pretty sure. But, we'd have to get her up for it. She and I have been friends for a long time. I know she was very in love with Mark Dilfer, but he ran around on her, and she sent him off with a size ten suppository sticking out of his ass. She's hurting right now.

"Anyway, we'd just have to figure a way to get them together that doesn't look like we conspired to award him a consolation prize. That would not be good."

"No, not good. And, it would be very dangerous if he ever found out!" said Belinda. Her friend nodded.

"Yes, Charlie, I did go to see in in the hospital. How could I not. But, now I wish I hadn't," said Belinda.

"Charlie, he thinks he loves me. I told him about us, and he understands, but it's hard for him. He needs a woman, and he's decided that I'm the one he needs. I told him that that wasn't going to happen, that I love another, and while he believes me, and understands; he's just unable to accept it," said Belinda.

"Bell, you did what you could. Hell you did more than you should have. But, it's done and you, all if us, have to move on. Yes, and that means this Ozzie guy too. I'm grateful to him for saving you that night, but even for something like that there are limits to the gratitude thing, Belinda. You should've known that; you're no dummy. But, what you did was dumb. But, it's done and the water has long since passed under the bridge. "Come here."

She came to him and he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "I need you tonight," he said. "I need you bad." She pushed back from him and smiled.

"You got me, big boy," she said. "I need you too." The kiss was long and hot and meaningful.

She felt him peel the thread thin straps from her shoulders. Her sundress pooled at her feet. His hand came to her still bra covered breast and played with it. They kissed again. He pulled her to the floor with him and rolled her on top of him.

"You're still dressed cowboy," she said, giggling. He smirked in obvious frustration at his own ineptitude.

"Yeah, well let me fix that right now," he said. It was another minute before the two of them were as naked as the day they were born.

He rolled her onto her tummy and pulled her butt up off of the floor, while at the same time pushing his knee between her legs to spread her open for him to fuck her. She helped by spreading her legs wide and inviting him to do his worst.

He aimed his cock expertly at her dripping cunt and slid in unopposed. He screwed her slowly savoring every inch of every stroke. It took him some little time to reach critical mass. She felt him shudder and felt the heat from his semen wash the insides of her vagina. She flattened out against the floor with him still on top of her breathing hard as his cock shrank from her. She hadn't cum, but he had pleasured her.

He rolled to his right and off of her. "Fucking wonderful," he said.

"Yes, it was good," she said. "I needed you to do that. I really needed it."

"Happy to have been of service," he said.

"Let's go to bed," she said. "It's late." He nodded.

He could smell the bacon from all of the way down the hall. Donning a dressing gown, he headed for the kitchen. He took a seat at the little kitchen table and watched her.

The conversation had gone on for some little time. Charlie shook his head dubiously. "I don't know Bell. Match making? And who are you going to match him with? I've seen the guy. I hate to say it, but he ain't no prize," said Charlie.

"Charlie, stop being an asshole. The guy saved me. Ain't nobody around here gonna be talking smack about him. Got it!" said Belinda.

"Children, children. Lighten up," said Sandy, who'd arrived for breakfast ten minutes earlier.

"Yeah, you're right, Bell. I got my big mouth open and my shoe stuck in it. I owe the guy too," said Charlie. He saved you, and killed the asswipe that…"

"Yeah, that raped me," said Belinda, starting to tear up.

"Look, Bell, I'm willing, like I said, to forget that you spread for the guy. I know you thought that you had to for him doing what he did. That you owed him something special. But, you were wrong to do it. I mean really wrong. I mean what other woman would even think of doing something like that. But, it's done and that's that. I can live with it, get over it, because of the circumstances. But, from now on I want to be in the know if you decide to do anymore of that shit.

"That said, Bell, as for finding him a woman, you are on very dangerous ground with that. Especially, since he damn near killed himself over you. I say stay away from any of that shit and let the man find his own chick. Someone more suited to him and to what he is and what he needs."

"He wouldn't know we were doing it, Charlie, having anything to do with it," said Sandy, butting in. "I've known a lot of guys like him. Women own him, and so they-men like him-are mostly held in contempt by the women they do try to hook up with. Women don't really cotton to men who act like pussies."

"She's right, Charlie. A woman wants to be respected, not worshipped, at least not all of the time. I'm thinking that the problem with Ozzie is that he doesn't know anything about women. We can't exactly give him lessons, but maybe we can find some broad who'd be willing to listen to a proposition," said Belinda.

"A proposition?" said Charlie.

"A blind date?" said Wilma.

"Hmm, yes, I guess that's kinda what it would be. The guy is ultimately shy, and he doesn't know… " started Sandy.

"What! You mean he doesn't know that he'd be going on a date with me!" said Wilma.

"Calm down, Wilma. "For godssakes calm down. It's not like that," said Sandy. Belinda watched the two of them go at it. They'd been there for but fifteen minutes, and already there was trouble in paradise.

"Whoa up everybody, just whoa up," said Belinda. "Wilma, the guy is ex-army. He's a catch-really. He even saved my life, as I know Sandy told you." Wilma looked back and forth between her two friends.

"You mean this is the same guy… " started Wilma.

"Yes, and I want to do something for him. To do something for him as wonderful as he did for me. Well, I can't exactly save him from dying like he saved me, but I can try and make it so that he has a good life."

"And, I'm the something wonderful that is supposed to make his day? Is that what you're saying, Belinda?" said Wilma.

"Yes. That is exactly what I am saying. And, no, before you ask again, he has no idea what we are proposing here," said Belinda.

"Since he saved your life, as you say, why don't you date him?" said Wilma.

"Because she and Charlie are going to get hitched, and you know it," said Sandy. "I told you about that a long time ago."

"Hmm, yeah, I guess that makes sense," said Wilma.

"Yes," said Sandy. "Look, all you have to do is date the guy once or twice. See if you hit it off. If not then not. But, if you do, well, then it's win-win." Wilma was nodding. Belinda was staring with her brow wrinkled. The silence was deafening.

"Okay, a date or two won't kill me, I suppose. Hey-is this guy some short dude that I'm going to look ridiculous with on the dance floor? Does he even know how to dance?"

"No-no. He's a big guy. As for the dancing; he's not great, but he can peddle around the floor a little. You can teach him to dance better if this goes anywhere," said Belinda.

"Big guy? Big as in fat guy big?" said Wilma.

"No-no. he's definitely a hardbody, really. You'll see," said Belinda.

"There's something wrong here. If he's a big guy, ex-army hard body, and can dance even a little; and if he's the catch you say he is; then, why is he not already spoken for," said Wilma. Both Sandy and Belinda looked away.

"Oh ho! I get it. He's ugly, right? That's it. He's shy because his face is a train wreck," said Wilma. "You two are a trip."

"So, no chance. I mean you won't give the dude a sniff?" said Sandy.

"Hmm, I didn't say that. You're not foolin' me, you two. I'm no prize in the face either. Yeah, I'll give the guy a shot. But, if he's shorter than me, you two better start runnin', and I ain't kiddin' about that," said Wilma.

There was hugging and squealing all around as the three women partied.

"So, where do we go from here? How do I meet the dude," said Wilma.

"First, young lady, we go to the beauty parlor," said Belinda, smiling like the thief that got away with the jewels.

I saw them enter together, the three of them. They took seats and looked around. The barmaid brought them menus and asked if they wanted drinks. She returned, smiled at me. Yeah it's your girlfriend and her friends," said Cherry.

"She's not my girlfriend. Not that I'd send her packing if she wanted the job," I said, smiling back at her. I could see the tall one staring at me. Not bad looking, but there was something about her.

Belinda, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to not look at me. I had to wonder at that. The other one, the shortest one, was talking animatedly to tall-girl. I decided to just keep washing glasses. If they wanted to talk to me, they'd let me know.

"He's seen us," said Sandy. "He's seen us and he isn't coming over. I think he's planning on letting us be, ignoring us." Belinda nodded.

"That's not going to work. We have to… " started Belinda.

"Look he's heading into the back room," said Sandy.

"Shit! I guess, I'll just have to go in the back and drag him out," said Belinda. Wilma placed her hand on her friends arm as she started to get up.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Belinda," said Wilma. "Maybe the guy just needs to be by himself. Maybe he's a loner or something."

"No. He's not a loner, but he is lonely. I'll take care of this," said Belinda. Wilma dropped her hand from the other's arm.

I saw her in the reflection from the window in front of me. "Hello, Belinda. I saw you out there. This remind you of anything," I said.

"Huh?"

"The first time I met you. We were actually standing in just about the same places that we are now. I mean the first time we met more or less formally," I said. She knitted her brow, and smiled.

"Yes, I think you're right," she said. "But, Oz, why did you avoid me-us-out there? I wanted to introduce you to my friends. Really."

"No. No. Being around you is kinda hard for me. No offense. I'd still walk over a field of hot coals just to get a smile from you. But, well, let's just say that I'm not into torturing myself. Okay?" I said. She frowned and knitted her brow. "And I know the short one; the one that's even shorter than you. She's in here sometimes with this or that guy."

"Oz, You have got to get by it. Really. I love another, a guy named Charlie Jensen. And Oz, he loves me. I'm more than flattered that you find me attractive. What girl wouldn't be. But, Oz, I am not for you, I can't be.

"Tonight Oz-no-I'm going to be straight with you. Tonight, Oz, I-well I-I was going to set you up with another lady. A nice lady. A lady whose boyfriend just cheated on her, and well, she kicked him to the curb. So, she's a lady who's unattached. Like you, Oz.

"But, like my friend Sandy keeps telling me to do, I am going to butt out of your life. Like you said. I'll be going then." She turned and started walking toward the door.

"Belinda." I said, my voice just above a whisper. She stopped but didn't turn around to look at me.

"Yes?" she said, still looking completely away from me; like she was afraid of what I might say.

"The girl you were going to set me up with, is she pretty?" I said. She finally turned to look at me.

"Huh?" she said.

"Is she pretty? You know like you?" I said. She looked down.

She looked up at me, "She's a good girl, Oz. You'd be lucky to have her if she decided that she wanted to be with you."

"I see," I said. "Not pretty. Well, what the hell. Guys like me. Ugly guys. I guess we can't really be-well-choosey. Will you still-I mean will you still introduce me."

"Oz, I don't know…"

"Belinda, I hope you won't repeat what I'm about to say. But, Belinda, I'm desperate. I mean really desperate. I need a woman so bad. And, well, except for you that one time. Well, it's been forever, actually never… Know what I mean," I said.

"Oz? Oh my God! Okay. But, Oz, you have to promise that you won't hurt her. Not ever. I mean ever," she said. I nodded. She came to me and took my hand and led me out and into the bar.

I sat across from her. She was actually okay looking. I was no expert for damn sure, but I thought a little makeup, nicer clothes, and Wilma would look pretty damn nice-pretty damn nice!

"So, do I pass muster?" I said. She smiled.

"You'll do for the moment," she said. "Do I?"

"You know you do," I said. I was bein' real careful with this lady. No mistakes-no mistakes-no mistakes I kept repeating in my head. She might not be Belinda, but she was a woman. Man, if I could only make a go of it with her.

"You're not comfortable around girls are you?" she said.

"I don't know. I'm not shy, really. I just, well, I haven't had a ton of experience. No, that's not being honest. It's not experience that I'm short of, well, not only that; it's getting lucky. I never get lucky," I said.

Fuck! A mistake! I made a stupid mistake. Now she was gonna think that the only reason I'm with her, want to be with her, is so that I can get lucky. I tried to cover myself.

"So, no, I guess I'm not all that comfortable around girls," I said. I was white knuckling the arms of my chair waiting for the put down. I was sure it'd be a gentle put down, but a put down it would most surely be.

"How old are you, Oscar?" she said, seeming to ignore my stupidity.

"Call me Oz or Ozzie," I said. "And I'm thirty-three." She nodded.

"And you've had some difficulty getting lucky? You mean getting women to spread their legs for you?" she said. I stared. I think my mouth was hangin' open, and hangin' open real wide.

"Oscar?"

"Uh-uh-kinda, I guess," I said.

"But you laid Belinda; doesn't that count?" said Wilma.

"Well, yes, I guess so. But, that was kinda different," I said. I was feelin' real uncomfortable now.

"Hmm," she said. "Yes, her way of saying mucho-thanko, I would think." I looked at her and had one of those moments when things become real clear. Yes, Belinda had let me have her as a way of saying thank you. She'd said as much before, but it hadn't registered until Wilma'd said it. Why? Maybe it was Wilma's tone more than her words. Like Belinda fucking me out of gratitude made perfect sense, at least to Wilma. Yeah maybe, I thought.

The waitress arrived and saved me from making an even bigger fool of myself than I already had. We ordered and then we were alone again.

The iced teas that the waitress had delivered some little while before were refilled by a touring waiter with a pitcher. I nodded my thanks.

"Yes, that would be about it, I guess," I said. "She let me have her to say thank you. Sure." She smiled. I took my shot. "So, Wilma, you said I would do for the moment. Should I put in my request for a second date with you while you're still thinking good thoughts?"

"Yes, Oz, I'll go out with you again. I'd love to," she said. I didn't just feel good. I was feeling real good!

"Excellent," I said. A nd we date we did, for six months, and the sex was fantastic.

I rolled off of her. It had been a long night, but without much doubt the best night I'd ever had better even, if possible, than my time with Belinda. Oh, Wilma was no Belinda, but she liked me for me; that made up for a lot of stuff. No woman had ever treated me like she did. I was pretty sure I was falling in love with her.

"Good for you? She said.

"Oh yeah, the best," I said. I sensed her smile.

"I'm glad," she said. "Ozzie?"

"Hmm," I said.

"Ozzie, I'm afraid this is our last time together," she said.

At first I didn't quite hear her. "What?" I said, turning on my elbow, so I could see and hear her. I was smiling.

"Oz, A man, a man I used to know-love-Oz, I'm getting back with him. Please don't misunderstand. You're a great guy. Any woman, and I mean any woman, would be proud to be your girl… " she said.

I was still supporting myself on my elbow, but the smile was for sure gone. "Any woman, any woman? But not you, huh?" I said. "I rolled off the bed, and started gathering my clothes and dressing.

"I'm sorry, Oz-I…"

"Save it Wilma. Oh and thanks for the sex. It really was all that, as the teenagers say." Dressed, I was outta there and didn't bother to look in the rearview mirror, as one might say.

Well, my luck with women was holding steady. Not getting better, not getting worse; just holding steady. I just had to hope that Belinda wouldn't be hearing about my getting dumped again. I really, really didn't need any more of her pity.

"You're kidding, right?" said Belinda.

"No, 'fraid not," said Sandy. "Wilma called me last night. She said she broke it off with him last weekend. She let him have her one last time and then laid it on him. She's getting back with the asshole who cheated on her, that Mark Dilfer guy I told you about.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. That poor bastard can't catch a break. Well, I guess for once I'm going to take your advice and stay the hell out of his way. I tried." said Belinda. "I've sure as hell been damn little help to him so far."

"Ditto that. And, you are finally making some sense. This match making stuff isn't for amateurs. We need to let him find his own way," said Sandy. "Whaddya have on for this weekend?"

Marian Kristoff, stood in front of the restroom's mirror and touched up her makeup. Finishing, she took a step back and appraised her assets. Long, fluffed out, tawny-hair; five-nine; one-twenty-five; green eyes, 36-24-38: Pretty, damn pretty, she thought, and sexy too. Turning she made her way to back into the restaurant proper.

Taking her seat across from her three friends, she smiled. "Can't let oneself look drab," she said. "One never knows when opportunity will knock."

"You mean customers," said Belinda.

"If you really want to catch yourself a man, one that's a keeper; you gotta get out of the business," said Sandy.

"Yes," echoed Wilma. "No man's going to want to hang with a woman who's a professional…"

"Escort," finished Marian. "Well, a body's got to make a living. And, being a professional escort does pay the bills. I mean what the hell. All of you are college graduates. Me? Let's just say classrooms and me are not compatible."

"I told you that my dad would get you a job," said Belinda. "All you have to do is say the word."

"Be a secretary? I don't even know how to turn on one of those computer thingys, she said.

"You could learn," said Wilma.

"Or find me a man," said Marian. "That's what I need. I need a man. Bein' a whore is not all that hard, but it is frustrating. You know, I get a half dozen offers of marriage a month."

"Why is that frustrating?" said Belinda.

"Because each and every one of the men who ask me are cheating bastards. And, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that even if they did leave their current wives, that they'd be cheating on me within a very short time. Men! Can't trust 'em, can't do without 'em."

"Our resident cynic," said Sandy, smirking in the process.

"Oh, look at the clock," said Belinda. "I have to be going. I'm supposed to pick up dad at the airport. He's coming in on the midnight flight from D.C.

"You should think about that job, Marian. I'm pretty sure you'd meet the kind of guy you're looking for working for the federales."

"Yeah, and the men working there would be looking for someone just like me. You know with an arrest record for selling what all of them are no doubt guilty of buying," said Marian.

Some say there are no such things as coincidences. Some say the fate's perversely will stuff to happen. Personally, I have never believed in coincidences or the fates, or any of that. That said, I might have to rethink my thinking and my beliefs.

Amos was coming in at midnight and had called to have me come and pick him up with his pickup truck; he'd left me the keys for the purpose. Amos always travelled back east with a lot of luggage. I pulled into the parking structure and had just gotten down from the truck when I heard the commotion. It was one level down. I headed down to see what was going on.

Three big guys were roughing up a woman and a man: her dress was already ripped and barely hanging from her shoulders. The man was on the ground bleeding big time, and the woman was screaming.

"You're going to pay for killing my brother," said one of the three big guys. "But, we're going to have some fun with you first."

"Don't touch her," squeaked the man on the ground.

I strode toward the group. I wasn't thinking; I was reacting. All three had knives out and were threatening her. One of the three, walked over to the bleeding man and spit on him. "hijo de puta!" he said.

I couldn't see the woman very well, but I could hear her voice clearly as she pled with them to let her go. There was no doubt who it was. Also, I didn't have to guess very hard to figure out who her bleeding companion was.

"You guys wanna leave the woman alone or would you rather die tonight?" I said, coming at them as fast as I could without actually running. Worse come to worse, I figured, I'd die trying to save her-again. I'd tried to kill myself over her once. Here was another opportunity, I mean to die for her, I mean if I played my cards right-or wrong.

Still, living beat the hell outta dyin', so I was going to go all out on this one, and hope to be the last one standin'. I figured, at the least, that if I could entertain them long enough, she could get away and run for help.

"You want to not be here, asshole," said the one who was clearly the leader as I got closer. I headed straight for him without breaking stride. His two friends were behind him and smirking. Gaging the distance, I drove the toe of my boot into his knee and followed that a half second later with a thumb at and into his left eye ripping it out in the process. His scream was horrific. He fell to his knees covering his face. A chop to the base of his neck ended his pain and his sentient existence. He never even got to use his blade.

I spun and blocked an incoming blade aimed at my throat from the asshole on my right and got ripped pretty good on my left forearm for my trouble, but the guy's momentum committed him past me and I was able to grab the back of his head and his chin and snap his neck as his feet went out from under him; he was dead before I could let his body drop. Two down in less than a dozen seconds. The last of the baddies swayed slowly back and forth in front of me switching his blade from one hand to the other, fear evident in his look. He wasn't going anywhere I was between him and the driveway, his only possible escape route. His only other option would have been to jump from the structure and that was a four story drop: chances of survival less than iffy.

"Go for it asshole," I said. "You got the weapon, not me." He did go for it. I'd underestimated him. He drove the blade into my upper pectoral muscle: Jesus it hurt! But, I didn't back up. Instead I drove into him and forced him back. He let go of the blade that was stuck in my chest as he attempted to slow me down and redirect my body to his advantage, but I was too big for him. We hit the wall together. Summoning every ounce of strength I still possessed, I hefted him up and hurled him over the side of the structure to the street below. Leaning over, mainly to keep myself from collapsing, I saw his twisted body on the street, cars skidding this way and that trying to avoid colliding with each other.

I looked at the terrified Belinda. I tried to smile. "We gotta stop meetin… " her scream was the last thing I heard.

It was dark out when I opened my eyes. The scene around me was a little bit murky. I heard the familiar beep-beep, again. I knew I was in the hospital; I'd survived. It was late at night, maybe the wee smalls, I thought.

I heard some commotion outside my door. A middle aged lady in white came in. "Well, good morning, mister Church," she said. "How are we feeling?"

"Don't know. You tell me," I said. She smiled. Less than five minutes later I had a doctor nodding over my mortal form.

"You'll be fine, now, mister Church. You lost some blood. But, the EMT guys were good. They saved you," he said.

"The woman?" I said.

"Woman? Oh, yes, the one you saved. She's fine. I hear it wasn't the first time you saved her either. That's a story I'd like to hear sometime," he said. "But, not right now. Rest is the order of the day for the moment. You need it, and I'm here to provide it. He nodded to the nurse who hung another bag on the intravenous tree.

She was literally sitting on the edge of her seat, her elbows resting on the edge of the bed, her hands covering her face as she listened to the monitor. Nurse Hilda had allowed her in; actually a no-no in the ICU. But, this was a special case the way she saw it.

Every once in a while she'd imagine that he moved, and she'd speak to him, encouraging him.

"Charlie, you've got to survive for us, Charlie. I need you. I need you, I need you, I need you, Charlie."

The sun was bright. "You have a visitor, mister Church, said the nurse. Belinda, I thought.

I nodded. "Please," I said, "let her come in."

"Uh, it's a man, sir," said nurse Melba. I know my look must have had her wondering.

Another uniform. The uniform of a lieutenant general. I knew who it was. I'd never met him, but I knew who he was.

"How are you feeling, mister Church," said the man.

"Okay, I guess, General Shafer," I said. He smiled.

"You know who I am," he said.

"I know Belinda's dad is a general." He nodded.

"Mister Church, I have to say, I'm sorry we didn't meet before. I owe you more than I can ever repay. I mean my daughter's life," he said.

"Well, thank you sir, but I just happened to be in the right place at the right time-twice. I can't explain it. I don't think anybody can. But…"

"Mister Church, if I may," he said. I nodded.

"I am told you and my daughter had a brief-thing."

"How is Belinda?" I said, changing the subject. "No one has told me anything yet. I hope she's okay," I said. He looked me askance.

"She hasn't come to see you?" said general Shafer.

"Not yet. I guess she's worried she might lose her fiancé," I said. He nodded, his face clouded over, but he nodded.

"She's fine-well-she is worried about him, as you suggest. Her beau… " he started.

It occurred to me, I hadn't even thought to ask after-what was his name-Charlie. I did now.

"So, does it look like Charlie will make it?" I said, interrupting him.

"He's in ICU. It was touch and go. But, the doctors are cautiously optimistic," he said. "For the record, if he survives, he owes you too." I didn't say anything.

I knew it was selfish of me, but I would have thought that she would have come to see me too, but not so much as a get well card. I guess, I understood where her heart was at. Her fiancé was in tough, tougher than me. Even though the knife had penetrated deep inside my upper torso; by some miracle, it had majorly only cut into muscle. The pain killers and antibiotics were taking care of my problem. I guess I was low on her priority list.

"Well, good. I hope he comes out of it all right," I said.

"Mister Church, if you ever need anything that I can perhaps help with, all you'll have to do as ask, and I'll be there. You can get word to me through Belinda. I'm sure she'll be in to see you before you leave.

"Good luck to you young man. And please, remember what I said."

"Yes, sir, I will," I said.

"Ready to get out of here," said nurse Melba.

"Guess so," I said.

I was dressing and getting ready for the mandated wheelchair ride to the front door. I'd been in for but three days. I was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for the chair which for some reason was delayed. I looked over at nurse Melba. "Happen to know how Charles Jensen is doing?" I said. She Smiled.

"He'll survive, thanks to you. And yes, she's still with him there. Hasn't left his side hardly to pee. She's even been sleeping in there. I think she's scared." she said. I snorted and smirked.

"Not much you don't pick up on, huh, Melba," I said.

"Not much," she said. "Mister Church?"

"What?"

"She's not snubbing you. She did enquire about your status, but her boyfriend is in pretty rough shape…"

And then the chair arrived and I was wheeled out and a new chapter in my life began."

Well, what the hell. I damn near die for the woman-twice-and not so much as a thank you the second time around. Helluva romance by any standard. Well, it was only a romance from my side of the deal. From hers not so much. Oh, I know she probably appreciated my being conveniently around when she got in trouble, but nothing, not a word? Helluva note.

Anyway, nothing to do for it. She doesn't love me; I do love her, and never the twain shall meet.

I knew I'd have to write her off. I would hope she'd be happy and everything; I really would. And, him too I guess. I just wished that I could find me a little happiness for myself. Wouldn't that be a kick. Just a woman, damn near any woman, to give a damn whether I lived or died. Fuck it! Women weren't the only things worth living for. My problem is that I can't remember-if I ever knew-what the other things are!

Back at Santoro's it was work-work-work. Well, there was sleeping and eating of course. Maybe those were the other things.

"What's a matter sad sack, bored?" said Cherry.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Nothing much to do." I noticed a woman watching me from one of the tables near the front door. From the look of her, a hooker. A nice looking chickee though: middle aged, slim, tallish. I had a little dough, maybe I'd indulge myself. God knows I was needing relief.

I saw a man approach her: probably a john. She smiled and shook her head. He persisted. I kept my eyes open. I wasn't on duty, but I was there, and Amos, who wasn't there, did not like trouble in the place.

"Come on whore. I need it. You got it for sale, so I wanna buy," said the man. I appraised the situation he was about my size, maybe a little bigger, but not enough to cause me worry. I moseyed over in their direction. I saw him reach for her arm to pull her out of her seat.

"Just let the lady go, okay guy?" I said.

"Shut the fuck up asswipe. This isn't any of your business," he said, turning back to the object of his desire.

I came up on his right and spun him way from her. "I said let her be, man. No need for this to involve the cops," I said. I was hoping to avoid any trouble, but the guy was a little under the weather, so I surmised, and he wasn't into being rational. He took a swing at me, missed, and my counter to his xiphoid put him down and breathless.

"You're kind of a tough guy, huh?" said the woman, looking at me.

"No ma'am, not really. I just get paid to do a little bouncing around here, and sometimes it can get a little exciting."

The offender was rolling onto his knees trying to get his breath and regain his feet. "Just go home, guy. We don't want no trouble 'round here," I said. He finally staggered to his feet and made to leave. He flipped me the bird on his way out. I just had to smile.

"My name is Marian," said the woman. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"You're welcome. Glad to be of service," I said. "Haven't seen you around here before, I don't think."

"No, this is my first time here," she said. I nodded. "For the record mister Church…"

"You know my name?"

"Yes, yes I do," she said. "You are kind of famous around these parts whether you know it or not."

"Famous? No, I didn't know it," I said.

"Well, you saved some woman twice from some gang or other, the way I hear it. You're kind of perceived as some kind of guardian angel-or-maybe the instrument of her guardian angel," she said. I shrugged.

"I was just there when the two things happened. I don't know why, and well, I just don't know. The woman… " I didn't know what to say about Belinda. I didn't hate her, but she could have at least said hello, or, something after the second go 'round with those bangers. But, maybe, thinking about it, her not coming to see me at all; well, maybe it was making it easier for me to forget her-maybe.

"You know, mister church, you intrigue me," she said.

"Really? Enough to go out with a guy who looks like me?" I said. I knew what she was; it was kinda obvious. But, I made to ask her anyway.

"What do you do for a living, if I may ask," I said.

"I'm a prostitute, and I'm sure you knew that when you asked the question, mister Church," she said. I deflated; this gal was outta my league brain-wise.

"Yeah, I guess. But, I'd still like to spend a little time with you. How much would it-you know," I said.

"Normally, a hundred an hour. But for you, there's the hero's discount to take into consideration," she said. I looked her askance.

"So…?" I started.

"So no charge," she said. She took out a small a two-by-three inch filing card and handed it to me. On it was scribbled her name, address, and cell phone number.

"You already had this info written down?" I said, kinda surprised.

"It saves time if I like a guy. I make one out every time I date a hero," she said.

"Wait-wait. Are you saying you figured to go out with me before I even met you?" I said.

"Honestly? Yes," she said. I knew I was staring, but there was something about her-no-about the situation that made no sense. I began to get suspicious. Then it dawned on me.

"Wait a minute. You know Belinda Shafer don't you. This, you, are one of her-gifts-aren't you! Just go back and tell her thanks but no thanks. I've been down this road before with that woman, but no more," I said.

"Mister Church, you've got this all wrong. Belinda Shafer knows nothing about me coming here. Yes, I do know her slightly. Met her twice. Actually, I'm a friend of her friend, Wilma Crosley," said Marian. "And, to answer your so far unasked question; Wilma doesn't know I'm here either.

"Mister Church, I heard about the stuff you've done, and yes that from Belinda and a few of her friends. And for that matter, I just witnessed a pretty good example of such. And, I know about your bad luck with women. And well, like I said before; you intrigue me. So, pick me up tomorrow night, sevenish, at the address on that," she said, pointing to the little card that I'd tossed onto the table.

I eye'd her. What intrigued me was her forthright honesty. Did I believe that Belinda or Wilma didn't know about this? Yes, I did.

"Okay, Marian. But, I do have to say that I'm hoping that this really isn't one of Belinda's set ups. I really-really don't want any part of any of that. Okay?" I said.

"It's not, and I wouldn't be party to anything like that anyway," said Marian.

I picked up the little card from the tabletop and looked at it: it said Marian Kristoff. "Okay, miss Kristoff. I guess it's a date then," I said. She smiled.

"I'm a whore, mister Church, you can call me Marian." And then she left.

Cherry came up on my shoulder. "You're gonna date her aren't you?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"The whore, you're going to date her, right?"

"Uh, yeah, but I ain't payin'," I said. She nodded.

"Just be careful," said Cherry. I nodded. Cherry always had my back.

"He was gone, out of there, before I got around to seeing him. I know it was stinky of me, but I was so worried about Charlie that I just couldn't leave his side. He nearly died, Sandy. What would I have done then?" said Belinda. She'd started to cry again.

"Stinky of you! It was unconscionable of you! But, well, you can stop the crying; it's water by the bridge now. Charlie gets out of there tomorrow. You can spoon feed him soup for a while or something. You can play momma.

"Still, Belinda, Charlie would have been dead if it hadn't been for Oscar. You too if it comes to that," said Sandy. "You need to tell…"

"I know, I know. I just can't seem to stop hurting my benefactor. And, he is my benefactor. And, I'll slap anybody silly that talks any smack about him; you can take that to the bank for damn sure.

"You know, dad went to see him. Said to name it and he would use his influence to see to it that he got a good job, or whatever it was in his power to help him with," said Belinda. "And my daddy has some influence. I mean real influence. He sees the President regularly.

"Yeah, well, ask him if the Prez needs a secretary; I can type," said Sandy. Belinda wiped her eyes on her handkerchief and smirked.

"You know, one way I could repay him-I mean Ozzie-would be to get him a better job. Something that paid him maybe twice what he's getting now, even three times maybe. Dad could do it easy. I'll have to think it out. I know Oz wouldn't want to take anything from me directly; he's got too much ego for that. But, if it looked like it came from my dad or by accident. Well, then maybe," said Belinda.

"Yeah maybe. But now, since you've essentially snubbed him, he's going to be cutting you out of his life. Our Ozzie is a simple kind of guy. He ain't gonna be thinking real deep about you not comin' to see him even if he does get it that you were committed to Charlie for the duration. He's gonna just think that you don't care enough to even say thanks for him risking his life for you-again. You know most guys would have just got on the cell phone and dialed 911, but not our guy; he just the fuck weighs in and risks his all to save the damsel in distress," said Sandy.

Belinda broke out into sobbing again. "What am I going to do!" she howled.

"You're going to try and get him a good job that's what. Just like you said. And, yes, it has to be on the sly. He can never know you got it for him; he'd quit it in a New York minute if he knew. You'd be right about that," said Sandy. Her friend nodded.

"You know, Sandy, I think that I do love the lug. He's not pretty, and he's kind of a dumbo. But, he's got something. I just can't put words to it."

"Yeah, try courage, selflessness, inner strength, and-if it matters worth a damn-a gentle soul," said Sandy. "Hell, I love the guy too. Not sexually, but he's got a helluva lot to offer some female, a helluva lot," said Sandy.

"Damn straight," said Belinda. Sandy was wiping her eyes; it was catching. Belinda started wiping hers.

"So, what kind of job, girl," said Sandy. "Any ideas?"

"Maybe," she said Belinda.

I was still wearing my socks, but nothing else. Marian on the other hand was stark naked. I swallowed hard.

"Jesus, you're beautiful!" I said. My voice was real low, but my eyes were screaming my lust.

"Well, thank you, sir," she said. "I do try to please my fellows." I just nodded my absolute certitude that she was telling it like it really was.

I took her in my arms and pulled her close. As filled with desire as I was, I also didn't want to let her go, not even to lie down on the bed. But, she pushed me back.

"Whoa, sailor, we have all night. You'll be getting' what you need-me too, I hope," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, "whatever you say. I've never seen anything as beautiful as you, nor anything I wanted near as much."

"You're just hot to trot. After you've cum a couple of times, you'll see things a little bit differently. I guarantee it," she said.

"You're wrong about that, ma'am," I said. "I'm not a virgin. Almost, but not quite. But, this is different. I know…"

"Shut up and get over here and fuck me," she said. I want that dick inside of me right now. Got it!" she said.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "Right away, ma'am."

"You call me ma'am one more time and I'm going to kick your ass outta here," she said. My name's Marian, or hey you, or lady, or bitch; but, not ma'am under any circumstances. Okay?" she said.

"Yes, ma-I mean, dear?" I said. She gave me a look.

"Okay, that'll do," she said.

I moved down the length of her body and stared at her slit. It was hairless and dark and smelled wonderful. I kissed her mound. I licked her slit and then buried my face in her. My tongue tried to tickle her back bone. I kept it up for a few minutes and all of a sudden she was squirting all over my face.

She leaned up and I rolled my eyes up to see her face as I sucked on her clit. She had a wild look in her eyes that was pure animal. She shuddered, uttered a couple of obscenities and collapsed.

"Fuck! That was fantastic," she said. "For someone who claims to be a thirty something novice at this stuff you are one fine cunt licker. I just might have to keep you around."

"I-I'm glad you liked it," I said. I was already sliding upwards toward where my cock would come in contact with her vagina; the very thing I'd been worshipping for the past little while. She took it in her hands and aimed it. I pushed. I was deep inside her in one thrust.

I waited a second to make sure it was all right before I began screwing her. She became impatient.

"Fuck me, damn it!" she said. I began seesawing back and forth. I came in what had to be a record for short. I knew that that wasn't good.

"I should have sucked you off first, or given you a hand job. No matter, I'll do it now. She switched around and took my cock in her mouth, and began furiously sucking me.

She had me hard in maybe three minutes. I felt myself getting ready to cum again. I warned her, but I exploded in her mouth. I was horrified! I was sure she was going to kick me out.

"Jesus! You've got more cum in that ball sac of yours than a freakin' sixteen year-old virgin," she said, letting my cock slip from her mouth. She kept stroking me. "Never mind I'll get you hard one more time the easy way, and then you'd better last for the third go 'round."

"Yes, ma-dear," I said. She gave a warning look. She began giving me one hot hand job.

"Fuck not again!" she said. I squirted a three foot rope just as I spoke my words.

"Christ, I ought to make you lick it up," she said. I think I giggled a little.

She looked at me as though I were some kind of alien. "Three times in less than an hour; it ain't even possible. Did you cum this easy when you had Belinda?" she said.

"No-no, I don't think so. But, we did it several times that night, so I don't really remember how long it took; I mean how long it took each time," I said. She nodded.

"Okay, let's give it another go. I want a good fuck and I'm gonna get it even if you have to do it with your foot!" she said.

At her direction, we laid down and I began playing with myself. She was afraid that if she did it I might shoot off prematurely again. I was finally hard enough to enter her, and this time I was able to last a good little while. Maybe ten minutes, I thought, but I wasn't sure. When I was done, my cock was still semi-hard.

The good news though, was that she was able to get off too. I thanked my lucky stars for that one.

"You did good, Oscar. You need a little training, but you did good. How does it feel?" she said.

"Feel? Feel what?" I said.

"You know, to have a girlfriend, and that a possessive one?" said Marian. I smiled to beat the band.

"Real good," I said. "You have no idea-girlfriend." Her turn to smile, big, and she did. "Oh, and especially a possessive one. As of this moment, Marian, well, you own me."

"I know," she said.

"Dad. I wouldn't be asking; you know that, but I have to do something for the man. Something, anything!" said Belinda.

"Belinda, to say I am pissed off at you would not even begin to cover it. Yes, I know your fiancé was in bad shape. I appreciate your concern for him. But nothing, you said nothing, not even a phone call to the man, and I do mean Oscar Church," he said.

"No," she squeaked. "No, I didn't get to see him. When I did try, he was already gone. I thought about going to see him at his work, but I guess-well-I guess I was too ashamed after not seeing him while he was in there, I mean in the hospital." He nodded.

"Belinda, I can help get him the job you're asking for, but he might not take it. I happen to know he likes what he's doing now. He's a guy who's not especially big on ambition," said general Shafer.

"I know," she said, "but he is big on wanting and needing a woman. A better job might help get him to a place where he could attract one. You know, someone who could look past…"

"Am I hearing you right, young lady? Are you saying that you are so shallow that you think, that unless this man has a big ass career, that he can't possibly find a woman who could love him for himself or because he's not handsome like your Charlie? Are you saying I raised a daughter that is that unbelievably shallow!" he said.

"Daddy, I am at my wits end. I don't know what I think. I guess I am shallow and damn me for it. I am so grateful to that man. On some level I love him myself, and I mean for what he is not any job or anything. That's why…"

"Yes, I know. That's why you went to bed with him. Talk about stupid moves," he said. She looked down. "Okay, I'll get him the job. I'll see to it that it's offered to him anyway. Whether he takes it or not is another thing. But, I will see he gets the offer."

"Oh, thank you daddy," screamed Belinda. She rushed to him and hugged him.

"Yes, yes," he said, slowly shaking his head. "But, girl, you need to get your shit together. You need to go see him, apologize, and beg him to forgive your selfishness. And selfishness is what it was, girl, and nothing else. Jesus! I can't believe that you never said so much as thank you to him for saving your life. I just can't believe it!"

"And another thing while I'm at it. Beauty is very definitely only skin deep. This man, Oscar Church, has got it all over most other guys no matter what he looks like physically. Well, never mind, whatever," he said. "Just go see him, and I mean now!"

"Oz, some guy's here to see yuh," said Amos, sticking his head into the back where I was getting some cleaning stuff together.

"Okay, I'll be out in a minute," I said.

I was wiping my hands on my apron when I came out of the back room. A man approached me.

"You mister Church?" said the stranger.

"Yes," I said.

"Well, mister Church, you don't know me, but I know you. You're a hero. You're the kind of man that can be trusted. I want to hire you," he said.

"Hire me? What are you talking about," I said.

"Mister Church, I have four daughters. All young, all a problem when it comes to the boys, and I need, I want, to ensure their safety. I want to hire you to guarantee that safety," he said.

"Huh? What? Hey mister, I'm not a bodyguard. I just happened by a couple of times when… " I started.

"Yes, I know the story. I read the papers," he said.

"Wait-wait! Who the heck are you? Did Belinda Shafer send you here?" I said.

"Oh, yes, I'm Michael Tressler.

"Belinda Shafer? The woman you saved. I know the name from the papers. But, no, to answer your question, I never met her, and she didn't send me here. I sent me. I need the services of a good man; a friend of mine suggested I find someone like you, and I decided to go after the original instead of a copy," he said. He was smiling. I was intrigued. "Anyway, that's why I'm here not because of miss Shafer." I nodded.

We talked for a while, and made an appointment to meet with his daughters and himself the following day. I wasn't really interested in quitting my present job, but heck, this might be one of those opportunities that hit's a guy between the eyes. A kind of one of a kind chance to make it. The guy said it would be more than worth my while.

I was dressed in jeans and a black Henley. The man seated across from me, the man I had met the day before, was dressed in a suit that had to cost a thousand bucks. Cattycorner to the both of us, on an overlong couch sat four girls ranging in age, as I had found out between fourteen and twenty-two. Collectively the man and the four young ladies-Mandy 14, Carol 15, Frances17, and Jane 22-made up the totality of the Tressler clan, the girls' mother having passed on.

"So, mister Church, do you have any more questions?" said. Michael Tressler.

"No, no sir," I said. I think we've covered about everything. I guess, I'll be moving my things into the guest house tomorrow."

"Good, good. You won't regret it," he said.

"I had to allow that I wouldn't likely be regretting it. The girls were pretty, the pay was three times what I'd been making at Santoro's, and the duty didn't seem to be much of a deal; I could handle it. I'd be having Wednesday and Friday off. Those two days daddy would be doing the guard duty, if that was how one might have phrased it.

Oddly the girls didn't seem to mind the notion that somebody would be watching over them. There'd been a few occasions when they had been put upon by this or that individual, and even one attempted rape that the arrival of the sisters had put an end to; they never did catch the guy who had made good his escape. This last event had been the catalyst that got daddy to looking for a de facto bodyguard.

Even so, I kinda wondered, really, why he needed a bodyguard. And, it had been explained to me that he, mister Tressler, was rich and connected and the girls were possible targets because of that, and risking their lives and limbs was not something he was into. I was also informed that the girls would at times be without my services, but not if there were any significant possible vulnerabilities. I wondered who decided what was vulnerable and what was not.

The deal for me was nine hundred a week and a place to stay. I was fucking rich! I was going to be able to save money-finally! Maybe even get myself a used car. I had to smile. Maybe even Belinda would have to notice me now, I thought. Well, a guy could dream. Life was good, good for sure.

"He took the job?" said Sandy.

"Yes, thank heaven, and he doesn't have a clue that dad got it for him. Even the fellow that hired him doesn't realize that dad had something to do with it," said Belinda. Sandy gave her friend a questioning look.

"How's that," said Sandy.

"A piece of timely coincidence," said Belinda. "Dad's close friend, major general Marshall-you've met him, at our house last Thanksgiving-was telling a story about a guy he knew who does contracting for the military. Seems the friend of a friend was worried about his daughter's safety. Kind of paranoid, actually. Dad let the hint drop that a guy like that fellow in the newspapers that had saved-well you-would be a good candidate. They'd laughed about it, and then the conversation changed to something else. I guess general Marshal had actually told the friend the same thing, and then that guy had told his friend, the paranoid guy; and well the rest is history as they say.

"Perfect!" said Sandy.

"Yeah, I guess," said Belinda. "But, I still have to see him, Oscar. I have been putting it off way too long. I am so ashamed of myself. I'm going to arrange to see him this week.

"I don't want to do it at the place where he's working now. I have to catch him at Santoro's. I'll just have to ask around and see when he might be dropping by there these days. I mean he doesn't work there anymore," said Belinda.

"Hmm, yes, I see what you mean, I mean about not stopping by where he is working now. Yes, Santoro's should be good. I figure he probably still has some roots there," said Sandy.

I sat drinking soda water with a twist while Jane danced with a couple of local guys, everything was fine, just hunkydory. Well, except they, the local guys, were getting to be a little under the weather, and starting to get a trifle aggressive with Jane.

She approached me kind of tentatively. "Ozzie," said Jane, "you can go home. The boys are going to see I get there in a little while. Okay?"

"I don't think so, Jane. You don't know them, and they may… " I started.

"Oz, it's okay. Just go. I'm over twenty-one, and I can take care of myself," she said. I nodded. It was clear that she wasn't going to change her mind, and she was over twenty-one. But, sure as hell I wasn't the village idiot, and I wasn't letting her out of my sight; she just didn't know it.

I smiled. "Have a good time," I said. She looked at me oddly. She stroked my cheek as she left.

One minute later I was on their heels. I stayed a good ways back as they headed down the boulevard. They were in no hurry; it was easy to follow them. They pulled into an apartment complex a few miles from the bar. The two cowboys got out and urged Jane to do the same. She seemed reluctant to do so, but eventually got out.

I knew the game. I hadn't had a lot of experience making it with the female gender, but that didn't mean I didn't know what dudes like these two had in mind. The boys undoubtedly had a good supply of liquor on hand and planned an exciting evening of seducing the girl. She had no hope whatsoever of warding them off. But, the good news was, she had me. The upshot was, that I couldn't let them get inside of their apartment. I had to nail 'em outside. Like now!

"Like, no-no, fellas, it ain't happenin'," I said. All three of them turned to see me striding up to them.

"And who the fuck are you?" said the taller of the two cowboys.

"Yeah," said his sidekick. Jane was staring at me.

"Mister Church, I told you… " started Jane.

"Can't help it, Jane, your daddy said I was to watch over you and that's what I'm going to do," I said.

"Watch over who, fuckwad? This woman is over twenty-one. You've got nothin' to say about anything," said tall cowboy.

"Mister Church, I insist that you leave. If you don't my daddy will hear about this before the day is out," said Jane, but without much conviction.

"Good idea, Jane, and the sooner the better," I said. I pulled my cell and hit one of my preset numbers. He was on the line in less than ten seconds; the bad guys were staring at me.

I moved a few feet off and talked to her daddy live. Jane was clearly nervous. "Here," I said, handing her the phone, "daddy wants to talk to you." She took it with a pouty look.

She talked for less than a minute and threw me back my phone. She stalked off heading for my car.

The two cowboys eyed me but headed off toward their apartment building. No need for violence today.

He was waiting for us when we arrived back at the house.

"Good job, Church, I'm glad you called me," said daddy.

"Jane you and I will be talking," he said.

"Yes, well you can tell mister Harrelson, that he and that general friend of his to get lost and die. I'm over twenty-one and perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said. I was suddenly flushed and very upset-general!

Jane had made it into the house and mister Tressler was slapping me on the back. "I want to thank…"

"Mister Tressler, I asked you in the beginning about Belinda Shafer being the reason I was hired. You said she wasn't," I said, interrupting him.

"Belinda Shafer? She wasn't," he said. "Wait a minute. It just came to me. My friend Mack Harrelson knows a general Shafer, an army guy. Related to your Belinda? Yeah, maybe so," he said, answering his own question. My breathing was coming hard.

"This Harrelson… " I started.

"Yeah, he was the guy who gave the idea to see if you'd be interested in the job I was thinking about giving to somebody," said Michael Tressler. I nodded. "But, I've never met this general Shafer, if indeed that's who it is, or this Belinda-his daughter maybe?"

I had a lot to think about, to decide; but then it came to pass that everything was decided for me. I had a visitor-Belinda Shafer.

I was sitting in Santoro's sipping a brew. I was waiting for Marian to show up. I was going to ask her advice when I got the tap on my shoulder. I turned and her beauty almost blinded me.

"Belinda!" I said. She sat down without saying a word and stared at me.

"Hi, Oz," she said, finally.

"Hi to you too," I said. My stomach was doing somersaults. It always seemed to when she was around. God how I loved this woman-wanted her. Marian was good. Wilma'd been good. But, in Belinda's league? Not even. "This is a surprise."

"Yes, well, you are looking at a very guilty girl. One that can only say how sorry she is, I mean to you," she said. I guess I'd looked down. I couldn't meet her eyes.

"Ozzie?" she said.

"It's okay," I said. Of course I knew what she was going to say, or thought I did. "Don't feel guilty about me. I'm cool. She gave me a look that at once chastised me and comforted me.

"Ozzie, I feel horrible about not visiting you in the hospital when without a shred of a doubt you'd saved my life-again. And more, that of my love, Charlie.

"All I can say is I was selfish and chicken and a fool. Not feel guilty! I'll feel guilty about that one for as long as I live.

"All I ever do is hurt you, big guy. I am committing myself to never do anything like that again to anybody, but especially to you. You are the greatest Oz. No question, the greatest. Whatever I can do for you, I promise I will." When she said this last, I looked up at her. She bit her lip, but she didn't qualify her statement.

I was sure, that if I'd asked her to spread her legs for me at that moment, she would have. I was also sure that she was hoping that I wouldn't. There were no limits, but that very reality forced me to be the good guy and renounce my hard won reward.

"No, no, you don't owe me anything. For you there is nothing I wouldn't do. Helping you out those two times was reward enough. I saved the most beautiful woman in the world," I said. "It was my pleasure."

"Ozzie, you're the best. Just remember, I said anything." At that moment it came to me, I remembered the other thing. I had to know for sure.

"Belinda, you know I have a new job? I'm planning on getting' a new car soon; well, a new used car I corrected myself," I said. She smiled.

"That's wonderful Oz. What kind of work are you doing?" I knew then. Her tone, her over enthusiastic look. I knew she'd arranged my new work for me, or, her dad had. She sensed the situation, but remained silent, waiting for me to say something else.

"It was because of you, wasn't it? I got the job 'cause of your influence, or your dad's?" I said. She looked away. I wondered if she'd lie outright. She looked back at me.

"Oz, it was the least we could do. Please. I-we-were not being condescending or anything. I know how proud a man you are, and deservedly so. I-well I just owe you so much, especially for saving Charlie. I…"

"Like I said before, Belinda, you owe me nothing, and I make my own way. I thank you though for your generosity, and your dad too. Please tell him so.

"Anyway, I have to be going. Nice seeing you again. And, really, you don't owe me a thing." I patted her shoulder and left. I think I walked a little faster than I usually did. I had to get away from her; it was too humiliating her doing for me.

The call to the Tressler clan was made five minutes after my meet up with Belinda. He understood, didn't like it, I don't think, but he wasn't pushing it. He promised to get my things to me the next day at Santoro's. Amos had rehired me on the spot: he'd been next to me when I'd made the call.

My part time thing with Marian was kinda static. It did seem to be going somewhere long term; and, I did like and trust her. She'd been more than a little peeved at me when I hadn't been around at Santoro's when she'd finally arrived for our date; that is to say, the night I'd almost run out of the bar after speaking with Belinda. Frankly, I was so upset that I had forgotten about that good woman. That very fact told me that Marian and I were probably not going to make it long term.

"He quit!" she said. Her dad nodded.

"Just one of those things, kiddoo," he said. "You tried. We tried. He's just one of those guys who has to be his own man. Can't allow himself to be owing anyone. And there's no give in his attitude; it's who he is."

"He doesn't owe me, dad! I-owe-him! Big time! I just want to do for him. Something! Anything!" she said.

"Ain't happenin' Bell. Unless you marry him, there isn't anything you can do. I've met guys like him before, in the field, in 'Nam. They'll do anything for their buds, but don't ever insinuate that the ones that they do for owe them. In their minds it cheapens their sacrifice. What they care about is the deed, what they did for someone else. He's one of those. He's selfless and brave and all kinds of emotional about it is our Ozzie. Like I said, he's just one of those kinds of guys." She howled in despair.

"Wilma, you have to be kidding!" said Belinda.

"No, Bell. She's not kidding. I saw them going into the Red Cap the other night, and it weren't no coincidence; they were together," said Sandy.

"Then, maybe… " started Bell.

"Yeah maybe they're an item," finished Sandy.

"Pretty sure that's the case," said Wilma. "Marian wouldn't come clean, but her demeanor was such that it just screamed love affair." There were smiles of satisfaction all around.

"Thank God," said Bell. "I mean thank you Jesus H.Q. Ree-eyst! I really-really-really needed to hear that. I mean I really needed to. I think we should…"

"No!" screamed Sandy. "Nothing is what we're going to do! We're staying away from that man and that is all there is to it. He's had enough of us." Bell's visage fell.

"I guess you're right, Sandy," said Bell.

"For sure," said Wilma. "He needs to get over you, Belinda. Even with a pro like Marian taking up the slack, you're going to be hard to forget. When I dropped him to get back with Mark; I felt like a dirty rotten scoundrel for sure. I want to be free of that bad feeling from now on. I'm stayin' clear of him. You need to stay clear of him too." Belinda sighed.

"Okay. I guess that's best," she said.

It was Sunday and there was a knock on my door, actually the back door of Santoro's. I made to answer it. Opening the door, I stared. I almost didn't recognize him.

"Can I come in," said Charles Jensen. I stepped aside to let him pass.

"Homey," he said, "small, but homey."

"It's free. And the neighbors don't bother me much," I said. He nodded.

"Okay to sit down?" he said. I motioned him over to the twenty-nine dollar plastic utility table, that had served my needs for so long. He plopped down into one of the cheap plastic chairs that came with it: they'd cost an extra fifteen dollars each. I stood leaning against the wall across from him.

"Wondering why I'm here, I guess," he said.

"That would be a good assumption," I said. "But let me guess. It has something to do with Belinda." He actually snickered.

"Yeah, well I can't fool you," he said. "Oh, and she's hurt that she couldn't get you to keep that job she'd had her dad get you. You really should try to be a little more practical."

"Whaddya want, mister Jensen," I said. "You may find it hard to believe, but I'm not much into mind games."

"I'm here to bring peace to you, and to see if together, you and I can get my future wife to stop crying in her beer about how she's been so ungrateful to you," he said.

"I've already told her she didn't owe me anything. Told her I was cool with the situation, I mean her marrying you," I said. "Tell her to lighten up on herself. I'm her hero; that's enough for me. Tell her that."

"Oh yeah, she's gonna go for that-not," he said. "Don't you get it she's ashamed of herself. And, I think she'd like to have a relationship with you-make that friendship-on some level. Hell, so would I. I know I'm kinda the forgettable one in this mess, but I owe you too, and that every bit as much as she does.

"Frankly, Ozzie-can I call you Ozzie?" he said. I nodded my okay. "Good. Anyway, the reason I'm here is for that very reason. I owe you too much to just let you suffer, and I know you are, suffering that is."

"Yeah, well that's my business," I said.

"Look, I know you need a woman. I do too. Mine is Belinda. But, trust me, there's a woman out there for you too. In fact, I'm gonna say especially for you. You're a helluva man, not handsome like me," he said, laughing as he said it, "but you have some very serious qualities to sell mister. Trust me on that one.

"Oz, you may find this difficult to believe given the circumstances, but I tried to save her too, I mean that day in the parking garage. I just wasn't very successful: I ain't you. Fighting is just not my game. I'm good at business. I'm a stockbroker if it matters," he said. "I leave the mano-y-mano stuff to them as is good at it." I raised hands up to signal him to stop.

"Look, Charlie, I have a girl," I waited for his reaction; there was none immediately; I continued. "She's pretty, my new girl; and, like Belinda, way outta my league. But, for some damn reason she seems to like me. Frankly it ain't every woman wants to be around me. And, maybe this one won't want to be either after she gets to know me better. The last one-by the way a gift from Belinda-dumped me as soon as she had a replacement for me. That one hurt a lot. So, my confidence in my current situation ain't all that fucking wonderful; but, who knows maybe God'll intervene and help me out."

"Oh, okay-okay. Well, that's good. What's her name if I may ask," he said.

"Marian. Marian Kristoff." He gave me a look I could not decipher. I wondered if he knew her, knew about her profession. I let it drop.

"Nice name. Hope it works out for you. Anyway, about Belinda. If you could see your way clear to come to a party this week at my place… " he started.

"A party? At your place? No, no, I don't think I could do that. I'm trying to get by a couple of things that still kind of bother me, and seeing-well-seeing her again wouldn't be much help in that department," I said.

"The reason I'm asking you, Oscar, isn't to be in your face with Belinda, but rather to soothe over the rough edges a little bit, so that you and she could be on a talking level again, a friendship level. You need it, and frankly, she needs it even more than you do. You risked your life for her for godssake; how about risking a little ego; it's deal less dangerous for sure," he said.

I looked at him hard, watched him, watched how he moved. He was being straight with me. The problem was, the question was, did it matter. Seeing her was not going to be all that pleasant in the best of situations. And, I hadn't been lying when I told him there were a couple of things that I was trying to get by-to forget. Still, if I could get Marian to go with me, maybe…

"I'll go this far, Charlie. I'm prepared to say that I might come. And if I do, I might bring a guest. Would that be all right?" I said.

"Of course you can bring a guest. And your maybe is good enough. I just hope it turns into a yes. Here's the address." He handed me a slip of paper with his address and contacts on it. I nodded. We said our goodbyes and he was gone.

He sat across the table from her. "If he comes he's bringing Marian Kristoff," said Charlie. "Belinda, I've had her myself. It was a long time ago, but she's a working girl. Is she the kind of woman you want to see him hung with? A whore!"

"So what if she is, Charlie. Nobody's perfect. The only real question is whether or not he knows. We won't let him go blind into something like that, but if he knows, and he's okay with it-well, again, so what if she is a prostitute," said Belinda.

"Okay, I guess you have a point. And, I mean if you know her, and she's an okay person," he said. She gave him a look that guaranteed she did.

I pulled up next to the curb, stared at the house, Charlie's house. Nervous didn't even begin to describe my feelings at that moment.

"Well?" said Marian.

"Oh-yeah-I guess we ought to get out and go on up," I said.

"Ozzie, you're with me, and I'm the best," she said, smiling. I smiled back.

I looked at her, my her, my Marian, my girlfriend, with a new sense of appreciation. "Yes, yes you are," I said.

We headed up the walk path. The front door opened and Belinda and Charlie came down the path toward us.

"Oz-Marian, it is so good to see the two of you. I am so glad you could come," said Belinda.

"Ditto that for me," said Charlie. "Come on in, we've got the barbecue going out back."

Charlie pulled me away from Marian as we made it to the patio; Belinda did the same with Marian.

"Come on Oz, you and I got barbecue duty for the next little while. Let the women gossip for a little bit," said Charlie.

We were making good progress with the steaks, that while avoiding talking about the elephant in the room when the two women came back outside; they were not alone. With them were two more couples: Wilma and the guy I was certain was her new-old man, Mark Dilfer, and Sandy and her new boyfriend Curtis Mathews; Marian had given me a heads up about him. Talk about elephants in the room. I looked at Charlie and he just shrugged.

I was turning a sirloin over as Marian came up to me and put her arm around my waist. I smiled at her, but it was an uncomfortable smile. She sensed it.

"You okay, big guy?" she said. "Gotta be a new one at least for me. Here I am at a civilian barbecue, and my boyfriend is the only guy here that's fucked all of the women; well, all but one. Gotta be a new one." Now my smile was genuine.

"Yeah, I'm okay. But, I'm gonna spend the whole lot of time cookin'. Keeps my mind off of things. Gotta tell yuh, this is one confusing scene," I said.

"I can relate," she said.

"Hello, Oz," said Wilma, hanging on the arm of her boyfriend and interrupting us. I once again put on my uncomfortable smile. She grimaced briefly, but then smiled broadly. "Nice to see you. And you too, Marian." Marian nodded at the new arrivals.

"Thanks, nice to see you too, Wilma. This is your new man, right? Mark?" I said. There was but the tiniest flicker of discomfort in her eyes, but she looked away, then up into his eyes, then back at me, and it was gone.

"Yes, I wanted to introduce you. Oscar Church, this is Mark Dilfer, my intended," she said. He extended his hand to me.

"Nice to meet you," he said.

"Same here," I said.

"Steaks ready up in five minutes, folks," said Charlie, finally entering the lists.

Belinda had been missing for the initial set to, but came up now from inside the house talking quietly to Sandy. They were followed a few step behind by Sandy's date.

Soon, introductions in the books; steaks, baked potatoes, sauerkraut salad consumed; everyone was relaxing around the patio's periphery. I was holding tightly to my old fashioned glass which was currently filled with a seriously medicinal dose of Tennessee Sour Mash; and in my case it was definitely medicinal-psychologically medicinal. Two of the four women in attendance had dumped me for what I am sure they considered better options; not an ego enhancing reality especially for me.

The good news was, that my Marian was hangin on my arm, doing her best to protect me. And I was fully aware of the fact that I needed to be protected.

"So, Curtis, what do you do?" I said. It'd been the first time he'd been separated from Sandy long enough for me to talk to him. Marian looked up at me; her look encouraged me.

"I'm a heavy equipment operator, road grader mostly. Depends on the job," he said. I nodded.

"And you?" he said. I had supposed that he must have known what I did for a living, but maybe not. Maybe the girls hadn't seen the need to tell him what I did.

"I work at Santoro's over on Euclid. Kind of all around stuff: bouncing, clean up, security-everything," I said.

"Really?" he said. I could tell from his demeanor that he really didn't know anything about me. Maybe my name, but not much more. Interesting.

"Yeah, been doin' it forever. Army before Santoro's. It's good for me," I said. He turned his attention to Marian.

"And, you little lady?" he said.

"I'm his girlfriend," said Marian. He gave her a questioning look. And, in her case it was obvious that he knew what she did for a living, and it was equally obvious that he was dying to ask her about it; but he kept his yap shut. I was beginning to have a serious issue with Sandy's new squeeze. But, he hadn't actually done anything wrong-so far-so I was momentarily inclined to let him live.

I didn't see her come up from behind me. "Oz, could we speak with you for a few minutes?" said Belinda. The we were Belinda and Sandy. I nodded, and we strolled over to the block wall fence in the back of the yard.

I glanced back toward Marian and she gave me the high sign; it made me feel good-safe maybe.

"You okay, Oz," said Belinda. She looked desperate for some reassurance.

"I'm good," I said. I didn't elaborate. For once I was going to keep y big mouth shut. But, that said, looking at her, I felt more than a slight tingle in my loins. How I wanted her. Still, the gal I was with wanted me, and I had the good sense to at least "want" to want her back. Yeah, I know it sounds phony of me. Marian wasn't in Belinda's league, at least not in my mind, but chopped liver she weren't.

"Good, good," she said. "Oz, please be my friend. I do so want to be yours. And yes, I know that sounds like I'm trying to let you down easy. But, in this case it's not the case. I want to see you a lot, so does Charlie. You and Marian. I mean that." She looked back over to where we'd come from and nodded at Charlie and Curtis doing the cleanup thing. "That's a new barbecue pit you and Charlie were cooking on a bit ago. We plan to use it a lot, and you will be invited every time we light it up. I mean it Oz. Romantic love is, well, not in the cards for you and me, Oz; but friendship of the highest order is. Trust me on that one," she said. The fact was I wasn't sure if I did trust her even that far.

When she'd started talking, I did a little reality check mentally. I knew I had to let her go, dreams of ever having her again weren't no good; they had to go; but, I wasn't sure I could let them go. Helluva thing. I was all but certain that the dreams would always be there. I'd had her once, and it set a standard that other woman could never measure up to, at least to my mind. I knew myself to be a simple kind of guy, no go-go business type, no star athlete. Just a guy who believed in being honest and straight forward and doing the best he could no matter what. This last served me now.

"Belinda, I told you, you don't owe me anything. I did some stuff, and I'm just glad I was able to serve you, help you out. Others would have done the same thing. I got lucky and only had to deal with a collection of pussies that couldn't fight worth a damn-their bad luck.

"But, coming to barbecues here?" I hesitated, "Yeah, I guess. Maybe. Not sure. It'll depend. My woman might have something to say about that," I said.

"Ozzie, all of the people in this yard right now respect you a lot, especially Belinda," said Sandy, speaking for the first time. "And you evidently have a new squeeze; I mean Marian. She's a doll, and I know she will make you happy.

"We all know you have, had, a crush on Belinda-you and a thousand other guys-but she can only be with one guy, and I know you know that her guy is a good guy.

"Anyway, you earned the right to demand respect from Belinda and all of her friends-not to mention Charlie. But, a lifelong marriage-well-it requires that both partners be not just grateful to each other, or one to the other, but soulmates. If the marriage is going to last, you have to be that tight; I mean both partners do. Am I making any sense, Oz?" said Sandy. I nodded. She was. I knew it. Everybody there knew it.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. Belinda came to me, planted a scorcher on my lips, and smiled brilliantly. I did too, smile that is. I began to think that I could make it, get by it. Marian had come up just then. She'd heard me, not sure who else. Sandy? Belinda?

"Thank you, Oz. I mean for every damn thing you've done for me," said my eternal crush. "And for being who you are."

Epilogue

We did marry, Marian and I. She told me much later that there had been issues that I had not been privy to. The two women: Belinda and Sandy, had closeted Wilma to find out if I knew what I was getting into. They'd been assured by Marian that I did. Also, there was the issue of Marian not being sure if she wanted to commit to a man who had been, and mostly likely still was, madly in love with someone lese-Belinda. The other women had made it their business to convince her, that as strong as her boyfriend's feeling for Belinda was concerned, that they were confident that she-Marian-could make Belinda not but a fleeting memory of times gone by. They had, essentially, appealed to her ego as a professional.

That night, after the barbecue, I learned things about sex, kinky sex, that would absolutely never past muster with anyone's grandmother! Some of them, the things we did Marian and I, would most definitely require more than the usual five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys.

We did attend any number of parties at Charlie and Belinda's place and they at ours. The little clan of Wilma and Sandy and their new husbands, Belinda and Charlie, and me and Marian grew. A herd of children grew up together. In addition, it was not uncommon to have several individuals in uniform-generals uniforms-attend as well. Life was going good. Helluva thing.

-----------------------------

   Series:Ben and Melissa
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Man befriends a homeless woman, falls in love, but she cuckolds him--big mistake!
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/57023/ben-and-melissa
Published:2008-07-07
Ben Holden fumbled with his key ring as he exited the building where he was a paralegal for Milford and Saxe. He had thought to go directly home, but was eyeing the donut shop across the street. It was 6:00AM and he was flat burned out and hungry. He'd been up all night with some of the rest of the M&S high priced staff preparing documents and making last minute calls overseas for the firm's top litigator Dirk Grimes.

To say it had been a long night would be an understatement of heroic proportions. Ben didn't mind the long nights though. The death of his wife the year before had left a hole in his existence that his work was being used to fill, or if not fill, at least mitigate.

Glancing left he noticed a figure huddled in the doorway. It looked like a kid. Lots of homeless in the area, he knew. The perception was that the high rent district offered a safer habitat for those who could not afford a roof over their heads.

Feeling a little bit guilty about his relatively high standard of living, he approached the figure preparing to offer him a picture of Alexander Hamilton.

"You okay," he said.

"Fuck off asshole," said a female voice.

Well, he'd been wrong about it being a boy and, whoever she was, she wasn't a kid. "Pardon me?"

"You heard me. Fuck off."

Looking closer now, he estimated that the woman was in her forties, small of stature, and woefully short of good manners. "I was just gonna ask if you wanted to have a cup of coffee and maybe a donut or two," he said indicating the donut shop across the street.

He'd had no such intention, but he had changed his mind on hearing the desperation in her voice. Without the slightest reason in the world to give a damn, he suddenly wanted to know more about this fortyish foul-mouthed child of misfortune.

She looked up at him. Struggling to get up she managed to stand. "Okay, Santa, I could use a cup of joe. But, no funny business."

Ben threw up his hands indicating that he completely understood her meaning and agreed to her condition. "Absolutely," he said.

They started walking toward the shop.

"It looks like it's gonna be another cold day," he said as they walked.

"Like what else is new," she said.

"You don't have a warmer coat than that?" he said as he appraised her raiment.

"You might've noticed; no limo came to pick me up," she said.

Ben was getting tired of the continued sarcasm, but for the moment had decided to write it off to a bitterness with life in general rather than anything directly related to him.

He stopped in mid-stride. The woman took a couple more steps before turning to see what the holdup was.

"I'm Ben. What'll I call you," he said.

"Melissa," she said.

They entered the shop and headed for the counter. A girl behind it was waiting on two other customers getting their morning caffeine fix.

"Whatcha like?" said Ben, as it became their turn.

"Can I get two of those?" she said, and Maybe a coffee.

"Hi Melissa," said the girl behind the counter.

"Hi Dot," said Melissa.

"You know each other?" said Ben.

"Not really. Guys sometimes by me coffee here hoping to get into my pants. I guess you could say I'm kind of a regular," said Melissa.

He collected their tray and moved to a booth at the back.

"Where do you stay? I mean really," said Ben.

"Around. Usually around here," she said.

Ben was thoughtful and she noticed it. "Look mister-Ben-I'm not into strangers banging me for donuts. Besides, what would your wife say?"

"Not married," he said.

"Divorced eh," she said.

"Wife died a year ago. I'm unattached," he said.

She eyed him. She figured he was telling the truth. "Sorry. Bummer," she said.

"Yeah, bummer," he repeated.

"Whaddya doin' on the street," he said.

She snickered. "What is anybody doin' on the street," she said. "I'm poor."

"Want a job?" he said.

"What kind of job?" she said.

"What can you do," he countered.

"Well, I don't do what you do," she said indicating his thousand dollar suit.

"Let's try again. What was your last job?" he said.

"If you mean my very last job, I was paid to fuck somebody in that building you just came out of," she said. "But, my last real job was grocery checker," she said. "Before you ask, I hit the till for a hundred and they caught me. How's that for telling it like it is."

"Checkers make pretty good livings. You needed a C-note that bad?"

"Yeah, I did," she said.

Ben looked down at his coffee and stirred the inky contents of the cup. He drank it black; the stirring was his way to suspend time while he made up his mind. He made it up.

"I like your candor," he said. "Wanna place to stay? No strings."

She looked at him steadily weighing his motives. "Whaddya want with an old broad like me?" she said. "Why are you offerin' me a place to stay? I don't do windows."

"I could use a housekeeper, and we can talk about the windows thing," he said grinning.

She grinned back at him. "Any pay?"

"Don't know. I haven't thought about it," he said. "But, you'd have a roof. Maybe some new clothes. And your food for sure."

She leaned back in her seat and bit her lower lip. It had been unseasonably cold even in the day time. She was hungry most of the time anymore, and the clothes she had, really her rags, were limited to those on her back. She nodded.

"Is that a yes?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said. "At least I won't be hungry all of the time."

"Finish your coffee. We'll go home," he said.

"Don't you have to work?" she said.

"As you noted, I was coming out of the building not going into it," he said. "I worked all night. I'm going home to crash.

"You on the other hand are going home to clean up and relax for a few hours. We'll talk this afternoon."

"Okay. I can do that," she said without a trace of sarcasm. "I should tell you though, I've never been a housekeeper. But, I can iron clothes and do dishes okay, I guess."

"That's a good beginning," he said. "I hate to iron clothes, and I'm definitely no good at it."

He liked the fact that she giggled at his last words.

They pulled into the manicured compound where he had his condo.

"That's it over there," he said as he headed for a two car garage connected to his two-bedroom two-bath self-contained unit.

"Nice," she said.

"It's okay. You'll have your own room and bath. I moved here after my wife died. Couldn't bear to be around the place we'd shared for so many years," he said.

"How long were you together?" she said.

He looked at her. "Twenty-two years. I figured we'd make sixty. I was wrong. Sometimes life fucks you up," he said.

"Yeah, I'm familiar," she said, seeming to grow pensive.

Going inside He showed her around the thousand square foot residence. Her bedroom was small and spare. But the privacy it promised appealed to her. She hoped she could trust the guy. She'd had little reason to trust anybody in the three years since she'd been released from jail. Six months in the county slam didn't sound like much in the sayin' it. But, the doin' of the time was not fun. Plus it had almost guaranteed that she couldn't get a decent job, or any kind of job. Spreadin' her legs for assholes was the only way she'd been able to make a few bucks since her release. Oh yeah, she really hoped she could trust this guy; trust was everything to her.

"I'll get some sheets and stuff so you can kick back in here when you get cleaned up," he said. "Then, I'm goin' in there and crash," he pointed to the other bedroom. "I really am dyin' right now," he said.

"Yes, that'll be fine," she said.

"Oh, and there's food and stuff in the frig. You can have whatever you want," he said. Mi casa su casa."

"Thank you, Ben. Say, what's your last name," she said.

"Holden. Yours?"

"Trent," she said.

He'd set her up with the things she needed immediately, and, as good as his word; he'd headed for his own room, closed the door, and crashed.

She had time. She sighed and started to relax for the first time in months. She took a second look around. Small front room but nice, an even smaller dinette, a convenient kitchenette, and a built-in closet like service porch with a stacked washer and dryer hidden behind a pair of latticed doors. Comfortable, she thought, comfortable.

She threw her rags in the washer and headed for the shower. A half hour later, wrapped in a towel, she threw her now washed clothes in the dryer and went back into her bedroom and laid down while she waited for her clothes to dry.

She wondered when he would put the make on her. She sure hoped she could get through at least a few days before he tried. And, when he tried, and he would, they all did, how would she react? Take it one day at a time, she thought, just one day at a time; it was better than sleeping in the damn doorways.

It was 3:00PM before he emerged from the bedroom. He was washed and refreshed. He smiled at her as she sat at the dinette sipping a soda she'd found in the frig.

"How are you feeling," he asked.

"Good. Relaxed actually," she said.

"We' have to go out and get you some clothes, and I mean now," he said. "We'll get a few things today and more next weekend when I have more time." As he spoke the phone rang.

He went to it and picked up the receiver. "Yeah?… Dirk!… Yes. Certainly, Mr. Grimes… By tomorrow… You got it." He hung up the phone and returned to the table. "Business," he said. "It's a big deal. I did the research on it. The big man wants the final drafts by tomorrow. Piece of cake, but I will be gone for a little while tonight.

"Anyway, let's go."

She put on her badly stained baseball cap and followed him out the door.

The shopping spree took some three hours. Ben had not done much of this kind of shopping when his wife was alive, and didn't do much of it now. Without a second thought, he gave Melissa his credit card and told her to take her time, and to get a few outfits and join him in the Happy Hour bistro at the entrance to the mall they had decided to do the shopping in.

"Any dollar limit, mister?" said Melissa as she left to do her thing.

"A thousand. Get what you need in makeup or other stuff besides clothes," he said. "I know females have needs us guys know not of." He smiled encouragement to her and shooed her off.

Sitting in the bar, he ordered a vodka neat and a beer to chase it with: his favorite combo. He was pretty sure that the woman would spend most, but not all, of the $1,000 limit he'd arbitrarily imposed. He wasn't filthy rich but he had money. His hundred-grand annual allowed him not to worry overmuch about expenses; and, he was a good saver.

Ben Holden decided to commit himself to this woman's rehabilitation back into a decent life; it made him feel good about himself. Greta, his wife of twenty-two years would have approved. Her memory was half the reason he was going to do it. The other half of the reason was that for some reason the woman intrigued him.

He was on his third vodka and second beer by the time she arrived two hours and thirty-eight minutes later. He didn't recognize her.

"Geezsus!" was his greeting to her. "You look great," he said.

"I clean up pretty good," she said. She handed him back his card. "I straightened myself up and dressed in the rest room."

"Have a seat," he said. He signaled the bar maid over. "What'll you have?" he asked.

"A red wine," she said. "It doesn't matter what brand or kind." She had put all of the bags she was carrying in to the third seat at the table.

They talked for some time. He didn't realize it at first, but at some point in their conversation he began to think of his damsel in distress as something else: a very desirable woman.

For her part the feeling was slower in coming. She had a whole lot of suspicion and bad experience to unload before she would trust any man enough to genuinely care about her. But, that said, she was at the least genuinely grateful. She made up her mind that when he made a move on her that she would reward him; after all, he had bought her over nine hundred dollars worth of female clothes and accessories. Hell, she'd been wondering how she was going to get a package of tampons when he'd showed up and offered to buy her a cup of coffee.

"Ben, I don't know what to do with myself around here," she said. I'll be your housekeeper of course, as I said I would; and I'll do the windows too. But, at some point I would like to get a job. My record…"

"Let me see what I can do," he said. "I know a few people. But for the next few days just take it easy, watch a little TV, try and add a little weight," he said laughing. "And, well, do the dishes," he laughed.

"Very funny," she said, in mock anger. "I've been watching my weight, and now I find a man who doesn't appreciate my efforts."

Ben just smirked, "Right," he said.

Over the next several weeks the pair settled into a routine, at least as much of a routine as Ben's job would allow. And, during that time a bond began to form between them that neither had expected. Then, one afternoon Melissa was sitting at the dinette table and looking out the window at Ben talking to a neighbor.

For the first time she evaluated him as a man. Short, she thought, maybe five-seven. Muscular, a quick almost sudden way of moving, hair receding some, an intense expression that made one think of someone who was always very serious. She smiled at herself wondering what his cock might look like.

Entering the house Ben plopped down on the couch. Melissa eyed him from her perch in the dinette.

"Everything all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, Mark and Joanne are moving out," he said. "Mark is making it an issue because some guy has been hitting on Joanne. He's been burned before and thinks getting out is the answer. I don't know what he can be thinking; it'll be same wherever he goes. He isn't thinkin' straight. She's just one of those women who has constantly hot pants."

"You mean, you, he, thinks his wife would cheat on him?"

"She has. It almost broke them up. But, they got help, and it saved their marriage. Anyway, I guess now he's gun shy."

Melissa nodded. She stared at him oddly for some moments.

"What?" he said

"Why haven't you hit on me?" she said. "I'd like to know."

He thought for a moment. "I told you that first day that I would keep my hands to myself. I don't lie and I don't take advantage of people. Plus, I don't cotton to the possibility of having my dick cut off in my sleep," he said.

"We should go out on a date," she said.

"Huh? A date? But I thought that you…"

"That was then and this is now," she said flatly. "How about it?"

"Well, okay-sure-I guess so," he said.

"You sound unsure. If I'm off base here…"

"No, no. You just caught me unawares. Aren't I supposed to do the asking-I mean the guy?"

"Normally, but I want to go out before the second coming of Jesus of Nazareth," she said.

"Well, okay then," he said. "We'll go out-uh-tonight."

"Good, pick me up here at 7:00," she said.

"But-we live here. I mean I'm already here-I mean…"

She was laughing. "How very convenient then," she said. And, she went into her room, closed the door, and didn't emerge for two hours. When she finally did emerge she was dazzling.

His mouth was the second largest gaping hole on the planet-the Grand Canyon was significantly larger.

She wore a lavender evening dress with a plunging neckline and a hem two to three inches above the knee. It was strapless. Her brown hair tumbled wildly down past her shoulders and gave her a savage but very female look. Her lips were painted red; her makeup otherwise was perfect, and she smelled like a field of flowers. In fine, she was freakin' beautiful.

"Sweet Geezsus," he said, finally finding his voice.

She snickered and laughed at his appreciation of her efforts.

The dinner was exquisite, the songstress in the piano bar fabulous, and the sex afterward the best he'd ever had.

As they left the bar, she'd asked for the keys to the car. They had parked at the back of the dark lot because when they'd entered it was all that was left; it had given her an idea which she had kept to herself until now. He looked questioningly at her, but handed her the keys. She opened the car door, reached in and unlocked the back door on the passenger side, and relocked the front door once again.

"What's going on, Mel? I can't drive the car from the back seat," he said.

"No, but it's easier to drive that boner of yours into me in the back than in the front seat," she said.

He smiled. "Kinky," he said. Seated in the back, with the windows already steaming up in the cool of the evening, he held her close and lightly kissed her lips. His hand slid slowly up and down the length of her torso. She smelled great.

She was so pretty even in the dim reflected glow of the bistro's outdoor lights. His hand rested gently on her breast and she just smiled and patiently waited for him to take her. He brushed her hair from her eyes and kissed each of them.

He cradled her face in his hands and then slowly deliberately reached for the button on the back of her dress and undid it; he slid the zipper earthward. He peeled her dress down. She wore no bra and her nipples were stiff as rivets. He leaned in to kiss them. He fondled them for some minutes kneading their softness as though he were afraid that they might not be real. She purred at his efforts.

He finished slipping her dress all the way off.

She leaned back against the car door behind her and raised up a little, so he could slide her panties off. She was naked and beautiful and her beauty almost seemed to freeze him in time. He just stared at her, afraid to break the spell. She waited.

He started undoing his own shirt buttons and soon was able to discard it. His shoes, already kicked off, were followed by his pants. He started to yank his underpants down, but she stopped him. Hold on for a minute Casanova; let a lady imagine things for a bit before you do her," she said.

"You are so wonderful," he said. "I didn't realize until tonight just how wonderful."

"You're pretty all right in my book too, stud." She reached out and felt his cock through the material of his boxers. She looked up at him smiling. "Nice." She peeled his underwear down and off.

He leaned in and they kissed and cuddled for some minutes before the urge to do her became too strong to deny. He pushed her back flat on the surface of the seat and bent down to kiss her mound. He began to lick and suck and penetrate her with his mouth and tongue. In a short time she shuddered and jerked and stiffened as a wave of small orgasms seized her.

He loomed above her his cock swaying just above its goal. He guided it to her pussy lips and pressed for entry. She was so wet from his earlier oral ministrations that he literally slipped into her. He slammed his cock home in one merciless thrust; she let out a small scream. He slowly fucked her spearing her with some force.

Melissa began crying. She was happy but emotional as could be. Ben became worried.

"Mel? Are you okay?" His face betrayed his genuine concern.

"Oh, my yes," she said. "This is one of the happiest nights of my life."

"In that case… " He resumed fucking her but now with hammer like thrusts that brought forth guttural noises from him and gasps of desperation from her. Soon he was slamming her with a force that rocked the car. He jerked and spasmed as an orgasm of Olympian proportions engulfed him. He collapsed on top of her. It was now he who was gasping for air.

She forced him to switch places with her and she began to suck and lick him to hardness once more.

She positioned herself with her butt thrust back daring him to do her doggy-style. He obliged her, wrapping his arms tightly about her torso as he fucked her savagely for some minutes; she came again.

They fell into the seat and into each other's arms. "Wonderful," he breathed.

She held his chin in her hand, "Oh yes."

He pulled his pants back up as she fixed herself for the drive home. Still seated in the back, he turned to her; he had to ask. "Why in the car?"

"I planned it. No, not tonight. Not even since I met you. Long ago, a very long time ago.

"After I got out of jail, I had a look back over my life and tried to figure out where I had gone wrong and when. I never was able exactly to pinpoint that, but I was sure about one thing."

He nodded for her to go on.

"The last good night of my life that I can remember-until now, Ben-was a night with a guy in the back seat of a car. He was kind and gentle and loving and not too bad as a lover: we were young.

I wanted to start my life over again, when I got out, and I decided that if I ever got the chance I would start it over with that night in the back seat of a car and be real careful about my choices after that, real careful.

"Anyway, that's why-the car-us-tonight," she said.

"I see," he said.

That had been six years earlier. They had made the conscious decision to live together long term-really forever-without, however, getting married. But, in most respects their bond was more than any married bond could have been; it was based on mutual trust and dependence. She never did do windows and they had no children, but they had each other: he the recovering widower and she the former thief.

Everything went well, until three months ago.

Mel had become distant, bored, tired, and less than communicative. Ben became suspicious.

In the law profession, at all levels, those engaged in it become inured to the foibles of human kind. It is almost as if some among the gross of the population are incapable of reasoning or at least caring to reason and let themselves be suborned by outside pressures.

Melissa was not bored with her life though at times their routine could become problematical. And, nothing would have moved her to do what she finally did except for one singular happenstance: the arrival of Jerry Cummings.

"Melissa Trent," said the voice behind her.

"She turned and looked into the eyes of the man. He was a man now. But he'd been a boy then: the boy who had taken her in the back seat of that Chevy so long ago. She couldn't speak at first; she just stared.

"Jerrry?"

"You remembered. That makes my day," he said smiling broadly.

"What-where-how?"

"I moved here last month. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you were living here. Looks like you've prospered," he said.

For a moment she was speechless once again. "Jerry-I-let's have coffee," she said. "I have a million questions. At least I think I do."

"Me too," he said. "You look great. You're married right? Otherwise we'll be getting a license before this day is out."

His last words should have clued her; they should have been a sign of impending trouble. But, she was so taken up in the circumstances and the shock of seeing him after thirty years that she wasn't thinking clearly.

"No, well sorta, Jerry, and I'm happy. He's a very good man; I lucked out," she said.

They'd been sitting in the restaurant for sometime brushing up on the five W's plus H.

"Too bad for me," he said. "I was kinda hoping…"

"Jerry, how did you find me?" she said.

"Do I have to say?" he said, smirking.

"Yes, it is so weird," she said.

"I hired a private investigator. The PI found out about your time in county. He also found out that you had recently applied for and gotten a new credit card; that made finding you a piece of cake, or so he told me. But, he said he couldn't find out if you were married or not; he concluded that you were not. What does 'sorta' mean, if I might ask," he said.

"I have an arrangement with my lover. We're not legally married as in a church or justice of the peace or whatever, but we are committed. Kinda common law, if you know what I mean. We've been together six years," said Melissa.

"Then the way I figure it," he said, "I have a chance."

"No Jerry, you don't. I love you to pieces, but not that way, not the way I love my Ben."

"Don't mind if I dream a little do you," he said. "I will anyway no matter what."

She laughed at his persistence. "No, go ahead and dream, Jerry; but Jerry, it ain't happenin'."

He just smiled amiably.

They talked for some time. "Anyway," he said, "my company, Software Design, has decided to open an office here, so consider yourself under siege."

"Jerry!"

"Well, anyway," he said,"

Ben and Melissa-part two

Six years earlier:

Ben came home with a huge smile on his face. He walked up behind her while she was doing the dishes and pressed himself against her butt. "I Got good news. Wanna hear?"

She turned, put her arms around his neck, kissed him, and nodded. "Sure. What good news?" she said.

"You, dear heart, have a job!"

"You're kidding right?"

"No, I put out feelers, and three companies are willing to let you start immediately," he said. "You just have to choose which one you want to favor." He hugged her tight and she gasped for air.

"I love you," she finally said.

He handed her the three written job offers, and she sat at the table and leafed through them" A print supply company, and public relations firm, and a supermarket chain-well, she'd had experience with the latter.

"I will choose by tomorrow, she said. And, that had ended the discussion for that night.

The next morning, she could still recall, she'd gotten up and put the coffee on. She sat at the kitchen table; Ben was still in bed; it was Saturday. She'd wanted to do public relations for a long time, even before she had met Ben, even though she really didn't have a real grasp on what that the job would actually entail. She and Ben had talked about it. She knew that if she went that way she'd be dealing with people and even companies and her life would be on track once more after having had it messed up pretty good.

But, now six years later, Software Design had bought out her company, and she was working for S&D same as Jerry, and he apparently didn't even know it yet. But, she knew from working with Harold Miller, her companies CEO that the news was still under wraps, which explained his ignorance. Harold still needed to lay it on his employees, some of whom were be laid off.

If she kept the "new" job with Software Design, Jerry would be around all of the time. She wanted to see him but only as a friend, at least so she assured herself now. And yet, if Jerry was never going to pose a threat to her Ben; then, why hadn't she seen fit to tell Ben about him. She suddenly knew why: she was vulnerable. Jerry was the only man on earth capable of seducing her, and she was certain he would try. She would fight him off, but deep in her subconscious mind she was mortally afraid that she would fail.

Ben woke late, almost 10:00AM. He was in an amiable mood when he came down. "How now snookums," he said. "Got any news for me? You gonna stay with the new company?"

She felt giddy as she phrased her response. "Yes," she said.

"Fine," said Ben, "I will call and let Alex know today."

"Whose Alex?" said Melissa.

"Alex Harnett. He owns the company, S&D. We've done some legal work for him in the past, and I became good friends with him and his wife Karen over the years. He called me some months ago and let me know that he was opening a base here. He actually offered me a job. I turned him down of course; I like my current job, in fact I love my current job. It was because of us, Milford and Saxe, that he picked up your firm instead of somebody else."

Melissa looked at him and her mouth hung open for several seconds. "You mean it's because of you," she said getting it.

"Actually, it was because of Dirk Grimes. But, I will take credit for mentioning the idea to him."

"Geezsus!"

"Honey, you're not mad at me are you?" said Ben.

"No, no, I guess not. But, just how much influence do you have, may I ask," she said.

"I don't know. Alex and I are friends. If I give him a good idea he'll consider it, but he's got a company to think of. What's your point," said Ben.

"Ben there are thirty three employees in our company and as many as a third of them are in danger of being laid off. Could you do something about that?"

"Wow," he said without enthusiasm. "I guess I could try. No promises, the bottom line rules in most of these cases."

She nodded. The idea came to her that she might ask Jerry to help her with the situation too. She didn't yet know what he did for S&D, but if he were high enough up, maybe…"

"I just feel bad, especially in this stinking job market, for my coworkers," she said. "Please, Ben, do what you can."

He took her in his arms and held her tight. You are a good woman," he said. "I love the heck outta yuh."

"I love you too, big guy," she said.

"Say let's go out tonight, I have something to celebrate, and I want you with me," he said.

They way he sprang it on her made her suspicious, but she nodded her agreement. "Sure. You can't tell me what it is, I take it," she said.

"Hmm, I could, but then I'd have to kill yuh!" he laughed uproariously.

Working with Jerry would be so exciting, but so potentially risky to her relationship with Ben. She had grown very fond of her good man. Did she want to risk everything for the sheer thrill of working with her sexy guy? In the end, she could not resist the chance to work with her girlhood squeeze. And then there were the other employees, all her friends, that she would be abandoning. She decided was going to stay with S&D.

Her interview with the S&D firm, went well. They offered her good money, the best she had ever been offered, and the people seemed nice. She was still a little shaky though given the fact that she would undoubtedly run into Jerry and that very soon. It turned out to be sooner than either of them expected.

She was coming out of her interview when he spotted her. "Melissa?"

"Jerry. I guess we will be working together," she said

"You're working here? Here at S&D?" he managed to say.

"Yes, in public relations."

"My gawd! I love it. I gotta go. I have a meeting in three minutes, but we're doing lunch and you're gonna be doing a lot of explaining," he said, only half in jest.

She stood there sweating. She hadn't even been able to say yes or no. He just assumed she would go to lunch with him. This was not good. It was too soon. Too not within her ability to control. But, why was she worried; it was only lunch. Besides he hadn't said when, where, anything.

Jerry didn't show up for lunch that day, and she relaxed. She had a dinner or celebration or whatever to get ready for. She wondered what Ben was so excited about.

They'd arrived at seven. The Maitre 'D seated them in the middle of the room; she had no way of knowing, but Ben had arranged it that way. The restaurant was busy, and Ben wanted it that way too. He stood, walked around the table to her chair and knelt in front of her. He opened his hand and held it forth in front of her. The two carat ring he had purchased a few days before glistened in the light of the chandeliers. "Will you marry me, Melissa? Will you be my wife?"

The look on her face was a mix of shock and happiness. The emotions she was dealing with completely overwhelmed her. Jerry was forgotten, everything was forgotten.

"My gawd yes!" she said. Half the place applauded.

They danced for hours and kissed endlessly, and swore undying love, and it was wonderful.

The wedding two weeks later was small and nice and in a nearby chapel. Friends from both of their firms were there including Dirk grimes and Alex Harnett. In the middle of the reception, both Dirk Grimes and Alex Harnett got up to make a toast, well, it was more an announcement.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, family, friends: Mr. Harnett and I would like to toast our favorite newlyweds," said Dirk Grimes. "May they live long and prosper and support and love each other every day of their lives." Everyone touched their glasses and sent up the expected chorus of here-here's and yeah-yeah's. Then it was Alex Harnett's turn.

And, I'd like to say a word to the bride, whose big heart has touched my own.

Melissa looked at him and knitted her brow. What was this about, she wondered. She looked at Ben, but he looked innocent.

"I would like you Melissa to pass the word to your coworkers at Hadley and Tudor that all of their jobs are safe. My gift to you on your wedding day."

Melissa jumped up, still in her wedding dress, ran to the front, almost tripping on the way, wrapped her arms around the CEO of the company where she was about to start the second stage of her career with and planted a huge kiss on his shocked lips. Everybody cheered. Ben joined her up front and they all stood for pictures and then settled in for the party.

Everything was hunky-dory. They honeymooned in Cancun at Mr. Grimes' expense. And then, they went home to live the lives of a married couple.

It wasn't until about a year after the wedding that chinks began to develop in the Marriage. I had no idea what was causing Melissa to be… something. I was only later that I discovered that Jerry had come home to roost, or more accurately to do rut.

Disaster struck on the fifteenth of the month a little over a year after our nuptials. I always had a meeting on the fifteenth; it was clearinghouse day for all of the cases we had completed the research for or had otherwise taken out of our hands-ours meaning the paralegals. Today's meeting had been cancelled.

I got home early. I parked in the driveway and keyed the front door loosening my tie and taking off my sports coat, all in one continuous motion. As I entered the living room and closed the door behind me. I heard laughter. It was coming from Melissa's old room, now the guest room, and the door, as usual was closed. At first I thought she was laughing into the phone. But, then I heard a male voice.

"How long do we have. Can we do it again?" asked the man.

"Yes, I guess so. It's still too early for Ben to be coming home. He always stays till after 4:00 on the fifteenth. You should know that by now," she said.

"Why do you stay with him? Why don't you move in with me?" said the male voice.

"Lover, I am still practically a newlywed, and he is my husband, and I love him?" said Melissa.

"Then why do you fuck me every fifteenth of the month?" he said.

"Because I love you; I love your cock. You do have a nice cock. You're longer than Ben," she said. Then they laughed again.

"Do you feel him inside of you after you've fucked me?" said the man.

"Yes, I guess. He's not that small. He's gentle with me; he's better than you in that way," she said.

They laughed again. "He's a wuss, and you're going to get it for that," he said.

"Promises, promises," she said. "And don't call him names; we've talked about that. Ben's a good guy; don't call him names."

"Okay, okay, but he's still wuss and not nearly enough for you regardless, or you wouldn't be banging me," said the man.

"Yeah, well maybe so, but I still don't want you bringing him up, okay. Now get busy and fuck my ass," I heard her say. That killed me; she had always denied me that particular item, and this really added insult to injury.

"Okay," he said. "And, remember this is for me only, no wusses allowed," and they both laughed.

"Ouch, go slower, big boy, that's my butt not my pussy," she said.

I was sick to my stomach and filled with anger and hurt to an almost unimaginable degree. But, I had been working in a law office far too long to engage in tantrums. I was not going to run in there helter-skelter and ruin my opportunities for revenge by tearing the asshole up and kicking my supposed loving wife out. No, this I had to plan for: I might be a de facto cuckold, but I was not going to be a willing cuckold. Not even. I left in a hurry. I got two blocks down the street and pulled into a taco-tia.

I called Rex, a best friend. Rex Coleman was a PI who worked for Adele Carter, one of our fellow members of the bar. Adele had worked with my Mr. Grimes on several cases and had loaned us Rex on as many occasions. He and I spent a lot of afterhours time hanging one on after a tough case, at least we had in the old days before Melissa and I had gotten ourselves married.

Adele Carter was a specialist. She handled divorce cases only, and only for the offended parties be they the husband or the wife. For my money she got the good guy award when it came to lawyers. The added benefit is that she was very, very good at what she did, and Rex was essentially her hired gun.

"Rex… yeah Ben… can you get over to the taco-tia by my place fast, like an hour ago… yeah it's important. My wife's cheating on me in my own house… yeah I fucking know it's only been a year… okay, I'll be waiting." I hung up. Seven minutes later Rex was there.

We headed over to the condo. I let us in as quietly as I could. We heard them inside still getting it on. He put a stethoscope like item up against the still closed door, and punched the button on the recorder. He handed me the camera and told me to go outside and take pics of all of the cars and their license plate numbers.

Five minutes later he met me behind a dumpster near my garage. "I got what we need for the moment, Ben. You want me to stick around for a while?"

"No. I got it. I want the asshole followed though. I want to know who he is and where he lives, the works."

"You got it. Whaddya you going to do? Nothing stupid I hope."

"No, I'm going to call her and tell her I'll be home in fifteen minutes. That'll breakup their little party and give him a chance to escape."

"Then what?" said Rex.

"Not sure. I'll call you tonight and let you know," I said.

"Okay. I'll be waiting for your call."

We waved our goodbyes and I was on the phone before he was even in his car.

"Hi honey… yes, it's me… I'll be home in fifteen minutes… the meeting got out early… yes, me too." I closed the cell and waited. The house was only two minutes away.

I decided to have a taco. The taco-tia was on the corner and there was a signal light. I was munching down when I spotted the Beemer. It was one of the cars I'd gotten the plate numbers from. The driver was a man, fortyish, not bad looking but no Brad Pitt: had to be her lover.

I finished eating and decided to head on home. I felt strange. I felt in control; not good, I was still sick at my stomach and white hot angry; but I was under control.

I already had some evidence: enough for an annulment probably, but I wanted more. I wasn't sure why I wanted more. Maybe I just wanted overwhelming justification for how I was going to destroy them.

The irony was that I still loved Melissa. Even after hearing his insults and her the laughter at those insults. The breakup was going to be painful when it came. Did I want to crush her? No, she'd had a shitty life, and even though she was shitting on me, I just couldn't bring myself to hate her that much. What a strange and powerful thing love was; it made no sense.

I pulled in to the garage. I had to decide if I wanted sloppy seconds. I was pretty sure she was going to be nice to me. She'd already be showering and cleaning herself up; I was sure of that. I knew she hadn't had time to clean up the guest room yet. The tableau about to be played out was going to be pretty funny on some level.

I let myself into the house. Sure enough, she was in our room showering. I noticed that the door to the guest room was still closed. I was trepidatious about looking inside; I was afraid of the potential for more hurt, and I was hurting bad already. Opening the door I was surprised to see the bed made. The room looked about the same as it always did: clean and orderly. That is it did except for one thing: it smelled like sex, and the smell was strong. The window was open, and in a few hours it figured to be less obvious, but I was betting that the bed was made with the cum covered sheets still on it. She'd have to get me out of the way for a couple of hours to do laundry. That was going to be interesting since I really did want those sheets.

I went to the dirty clothes hamper and checked it out. Nothing interesting there, there was no reason for there to be; they'd have been naked to have their little tryst.

I went into the kitchenette and got a beer. I popped the cap and tossed it in the trash can under the sink. Bingo! Ripped panties. Well, she'd done what she could to cover herself. To be fair, I hadn't given her a whole lot of time. The panties were covered with cum; he'd obviously wiped himself clean on them, her maybe too. I got a baggie and put the evidence inside; this was getting good, I thought.

I'd heard her tell him that she loved me, small cock and all. I wondered if she really did. I didn't know if it mattered anymore; she'd betrayed me and us, but I really did want to know. I wanted every fucking answer I could get, and I was going to get them.

"Hi hon," she said, coming out of the bedroom drying her hair."

"A shower in the middle of the day?" I said, smiling like a possum.

"Yes, I was feeling gunky," she said. She noticed that the guest room door was open and her face paled, but she recovered in a hurry. She closed the door. "It's mildewy in there. I will have to change the bedclothes more often, I guess. I'll do laundry later."

Slick I thought, very slick. She'd be doing the laundry right under my nose. I had to think of something.

She went back into the master bedroom. She still had to dress. I had an idea, but I had to figure a way to implement it. Maybe if I could get her out of the house for half an hour or more, I could do the laundry for her and take credit for being a good husband. A good husband too stupid to notice the cum stained sheets? That was very iffy. I just made up my mind that I'd have to sell her on it. Then it came to me; I wouldn't have to get her out of the house at all. I just had to make sure that she couldn't do the laundry till I was ready to have her do it.

I went to the stacked washer and dryer in the closet and pulled the front panel off of the washer unit. I reached in and yanked the power wire off of its terminal. No laundry would be done today. In fact, no laundry would be done until I could get a friend of Rex in to fix the wire. Oh well, nailing a cheater was not always convenient.

By the time she reemerged from the bedroom, I had the panel back on and was nervously hoping she wouldn't discover the inoperable machine until it was impractical to do the laundry today. I just needed her to go to work the next day with the sheets still on her adulterous bed.

"You look good," I said. "How about you and I going out and having some fun?"

I could see she didn't want to go. "Honey, I… " She stopped. She could see I was going to be disappointed if she turned me down. I guess the realization that she'd fucked me over just an hour earlier made her change her mind. I suppose she thought that throwing a bone to the cuckold wouldn't kill her. "Honey, I would love to. Where should we go?"

"The Round Tree is our special place," I said. "Let's go there for early drinks and stuff, and then dinner and dancing. I really am in the mood," I lied.

Dinner was good, it always was at the Round Tree. Everything was normal except the state of my stomach. She noticed that I did not use any Tabasco sauce. I used to brag that I could drink Tabasco with a straw. I used it on everything but ice cream, or so it seemed.

"No Tabasco?" she said.

"No, I felt a little queasy earlier today, and I'm not going to push it," I said.

"Are you okay? You wanna go home. I can think of a couple of ways to make you feel better," she said smirking.

I almost threw up right then. The whore was going to allow her wussy, cuckold husband, to have a nice charity fuck. At that moment wanted nothing so much as to send her straight to the seventh pit of hell. The last vestiges of love that I had felt for her vanished. Only a cold, nascent hatred remained. My revenge was going to be total.

I didn't call Rex that night, but at work the next morning I did.

"Rex… yeah… sorry I didn't get back to you last night… not we went out dancing and stuff… yes… I want to destroy them… please get me what I need… don't worry about the cost… I especially want his ass… exactly… see if he has an ex-wife or something that he screwed over… yeah, yeah… who knows. I hung up. The die was cast.

Shakespeare said it best: "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a 'husband' scorned." Okay, so I paraphrased him a bit; under the circumstances I didn't think he'd mind.

I had lunch with a client and two secretaries that day. Margaret and Sonia were the best. After the client had left and was satisfied that his legal needs had been met; the two women sandbagged me.

"Ben, we've been together how long?" said Sonia.

"I don't know. Maybe fifteen years?" I said.

"Yes, and Ben I know you. We both do?" said Sonia. Margaret nodded. I wondered where this was going.

"Ben, you're not yourself, and I think, we think, we know why," said Margaret.

"What are you talking about?" I said growing impatient with the two of them.

"You're having problems with Mel aren't you?"

"What?" I was getting really antsy. How could they possibly know anything. It had only been for the last couple of days that "I" knew anything. Then it hit me. They knew before I did. But then if that was so, why did they not tell me. They were my assistants, not my wife's.

I looked from one to the other. I was about to become hopping mad. "Lay it on me," I said. They could see I was in no mood for riddles.

Sonia took up the flag. "She has a visitor for lunch no less than three times a week, Ben. It's always the same guy, and always at the same place: the Round Tree."

"May I ask how you know this?" I said.

"We eat lunch there almost every day. They don't really know us even though we've met Melissa a number of times at our firm's do's. When they're there, they only have eyes for each other," said Sonia.

"We've wanted to tell you, Ben, but we've been nervous about it. They never really did anything, and they never left together. So what did we really know," said Margaret. "But, seeing you the past couple of days; well, a woman can tell."

"I see," I said.

For the next two weeks, I played it cool. I was amazed at how cool and calm I was able to remain. I even fucked her a couple of times without having to give up my lunch. And there was the plus that Rex was on the job and evidently collecting all kinds of dirt on Mr. Cummings.

"Yeah, it turns out that our mister big dick just missed spending ten years in the slam for embezzling funds. That's why he's here. He was run off from his old job, but avoided jail when he returned most of the money. That got him a suspended sentence ala nolo contendere," said Rex.

"Nice," I said.

"There's more. I snooped around. He may be doing it again. I mean with the company he's with now. A friend of mine is an accountant. He's independent, but he does work for S&D sometimes. There are some irregularities in accounts that our loverboy is responsible for. But, it'll take an all out audit to find out for sure, he told me."

"Anything else" I said. He knew I meant in regards to my wife.

"Her call log at the company has him calling her almost every day; usually, in the late morning. And, on the fourteenth of every month he reserves a room for the fifteenth at the Round Tree. At least they did every month until last month," he said. Well, we both knew why that was the case didn't we, I thought: it was because they were at my house. "Ben, it's been going on for a year. They're as predictable as the sunrise." It turned out later that the reason that they had been at my house was because of a convention at the Round Tree, and there had been no rooms available. I wondered whose genius idea it was to use the condo; it was that mistake that was going to sink their ship.

I had sworn my assistants to secrecy and they'd been happy to cooperate.

There was more from Rex: emails, bar tabs, the usual; but what I'd heard so far was enough. There was just one final act to play out before I went for the jugular. The fifteenth was now only a week away. I bided my time.

Rex was able to get the room number for the dynamic duo's little fun day without any trouble. The room was bugged, and a video set up to capture all of the thrilling scenes to be acted out. I decided to let them have the full time. Let them have their thrills; the afterglow, I was certain, would not be what I'm sure they'd been used to.

They arrived, they checked in, and went directly to the room; we waited. At about 3:00PM they came down. I saw them kissing as they exited the Otis. They did look like they were in love. Even though I was over my white hot anger by then, it hurt me to see her and him together; it hurt a lot.

Rex walked right by them as they came into the restaurant. He had some collecting of evidence to do in the room that they had so recently occupied.

As they neared where I was sitting, she saw me. She went white as a sheet and dropped the hand that she had been holding.

"Ben!"

"Yeah it's me. Glad to see me?" I said as affably as I could manage. "Have a seat; we can have some lunch. I know you must be hungry. Sex does that to people."

"Ben, I-"

"No, no, really, have a seat," I said. I signaled the waiter to come over.

"Menus, please," I said when he got there.

All this time Jerry was rooted to the ground and very quiet. Melissa started to sit down and he was about to follow her example. A look from me stopped him.

"Whaddya think you're doing, asshole, can't I at least have lunch with my wife without you hanging around like some pussywhipped puppy dog!"

He was startled. "Hey, wait a minute. You can't…"

"Asshole, you really don't want to piss me off more than I already am. I've got you by the balls six ways to Sunday, and I am about to castrate your high school ass, so get the hell outta here, and I mean immediamente!"

He glanced over at Melissa whose eyes were tearing up something awful. She nodded for him to obey me, and he left muttering to himself. I watched him go.

"Like a drink," I said.

She nodded. She didn't seem like talking too much. Well, I could hardly blame her; seeing me there had to be traumatic for her.

"Ben, I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

I laughed. I just couldn't help myself. Being in the legal profession for so many years, I couldn't count how many times I had heard that asinine refrain.

"Remember how we met, Mel? Remember that day some six years ago? Remember how cold it was? How we got ourselves some coffee and donuts? I even remember how good those damn donuts tasted."

"Ben, why are you doing this? What I did was bad, very bad, but it was only this once; I swear to you," she said. "Please forgive me, I beg of you."

My face must have betrayed my rage at hearing such a bald faced lie.

She tried to recover. "We have lunch a lot and stuff, that's all," she said.

I began to enjoy myself. Watching and listening to her digging her own grave was almost worth the hurt-almost. The food came, and I chowed down. "Eat," I said. "This is our favorite place, our special place. She toyed with her food.

You know, your cheating was one thing. But, was it necessary to insult me behind my back. He may have a bigger cock than me, but mine ain't that small is it? I mean, I have some pride; it really hurt to hear you laughing at me and my sexual prowess. What did I ever do to deserve that level of humiliation? I'd really like to know. In fact I insist you tell me."

She was clearly shattered by my words. She must have been desperately trying to figure out how I knew so much. "Ben, I never meant to hurt you. This was just a one time fling. I didn't say anything about your cock or laugh at you. It was just a fling," I swear.

I saw Rex coming toward us. I motioned him over to a chair. "Good stuff?" I said.

"Yeah, very good. I watched a portion of it. I don't think you should though," he said talking to me.

I felt my face darken; I actually felt it.

Melissa was confused. I decided to enlighten her.

"Oh excuse my manners," I said. "Mel, this is my friend Rex. He's a PI. Rex, this is my faithful wife, Mel."

"Pleased to meet you," said Rex, without a trace of sarcasm.

Melissa just stared.

"That bad huh?" I said to Rex.

"Yeah, 'fraid so," he said.

"Mel, this is the way it's going to be. I know how tight you are with Mr. Cummings. And, I want all of the dirt and evidence you can possibly give me and Rex here, and I want it now. It will be the difference between his spending five years in the pen or twenty; his old age is in your hands. He is going to prison, and that's a fact. Now, what have you got for me, for us? If you have nothing, he goes down for the count, and I mean big time. If you have a lot, we'll see to it that years are peeled off his sentence."

"Ben, what are you doing? He's not a criminal. An adulterer, yes, but not a criminal! For gawd's sake have some mercy!"

"You know I would have. Mercy I mean. But the insults you and the asshole shared at my expense and all of the laughing at me like that, kinda drained me of any sense of mercy. You had none for me. None!"

"Ben, it was just once, a fling, just a fling!"

"You know I really thought you were smarter than that. I know everything, I mean everything," I said.

Looking at Rex, I said, "Show her."

He produced the audio tape and two separate DVDs. "Those are your entire matinee," I said. "Every word every act every insult-there are some insults in there right, Rex?"

"You really don't want to know," he said, too quietly for me to miss the gravity of it.

She caught her breath. "Ben, please I am begging you as I have never before begged you for anything. Dump me if that's your decision, but do not watch those things. Please, my husband, please, I beg of you."

Geezsus, maybe I wouldn't watch them. I expected sex and insults and laughter, what else could there be that was so bad. I would have Rex tell me later; then, I would make my decision.

"Stop the baloney," I said. "What have you got on the shithead that will make me happy? I deserve at least that much don't I, a little revenge?"

"He's stolen some money. I don't know how much, but he said it was for us, so we could move to Latin America or some such. But I told him no. I told him to forget it and to return the money before it was too late."

"She did that," said Rex. "It's on the tape."

"Would you have gone south with him if he were not a criminal and about to be incarcerated?"

"I don't know. Maybe," she said.

"That's on the tape too," said Rex.

"Well, your plans are on hold," I said. "I am going to divorce you. You get nothing. I know you've been fucking him on the fifteenth for the past year. I know you use a room here every month. Except, that is, last month, while I stood outside the guest room door and listened while you crucified me verbally to him. Oh, and we have that recorded too."

"Ben, I am sorry. I don't…"

"Don't come home. You really don't get anything, not even most your clothes. I will send a suitcase with the bare necessities and some clothes you will need for work.

"I will have you served at work. Do not call me, do not write me, just stay the hell away from me or you will regret it."

With that I walked out. Rex and I went to his office made all of the necessary copies and then went out and got plastered.

The divorce was final in six months. I kept my word and set it up so that big dick was given but three to six years in the pen.

She didn't contest the divorce, and she moved away soon after it was final. And, I thought that it was final, all behind me. But, as Robert Burns once wrote: "The well laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

Ben and Melissa: part three

It's been four years to the day now since I have heard anything of either of the two lovers. I am fifty-two years young and feeling good. I have thought about Melissa from time to time over the period, how could I not. She had been the soul of my life and my partner in everything for over six years. But, she had betrayed me in the worst of all possible ways: she had laughed at me like I was nothing. The coldness I felt as a result of that humiliation has not left me. Cheating, that is the sex per se, I could have forgiven maybe even the multiple instances of her cheating; yes, I could have. But not the contempt and the humiliating laughter that she shared with Jerry Cummings at my expense. So you can imagine my surprise this morning when my assistant, Sonia Keating, announced that I had a visitor.

"Who is it Sonia?" I asked over the intercom.

"Ben, it's Jerry Cummings," she said.

"What!"

"I'm not kidding, Ben."

"Call security," I said.

"Ben. See him. He's different. I think you should see him."

"Sonia, he could have a gun…"

"No Ben, He's wearing shorts and a t-shirt; he doesn't have any weapons."

I was momentarily silent. "Okay, but I want security camping in your office until he leaves. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay, send him in."

It had been near four years on, but he was pretty much as I remembered him: tall, reasonably good looking, maybe a little thinner. But, Sonia had been right; there was a difference in him. I guessed prison had caused the changes I saw.

"Thank you for seeing me Mr. Holden," said the man who had helped destroy my marriage-and my life if it came to that. I was amazed at myself for being able to maintain a relative calm seeing him.

"Whaddya want, Mr. Cummings? I'm a busy man," I said about as coldly as I ever said anything.

"I understand. I got out about three months ago. Three years, three months, and sixteen days behind bars Mr. Holden. And I want to thank you for them; they weren't fun, but they straightened me out."

I covered my surprise at his words pretty well, I thought. "I'm glad for you. And, you're welcome. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Mr. Holden, first I want to apologize, from the bottom of my heart, for coming between you and your wife. It was a rotten thing to do to any man, but especially to you. Believe it or not, I learned a lot about you from Melissa during those months that we were cheating on you. She really loved you. For the record, I think she loved me too, but in a different way: for her and me it was a case of nostalgia. But, where you were concerned; well, you were the love of her life."

"Yeah, I could tell by the way you were both laughing at me that day in my condo. You remember the day, that day, dontcha Jerry. It's the day my life fell apart. You were calling me a wuss and you and she laughed your asses off about it," I said.

"Yeah we did laugh; I admit it. I am fully aware how much that must have stung you. I did call you a wuss. And, I know that I insulted you and called you a wuss and worse, and that many times over the course of the months, because I was jealous of you. I was jealous of the love she held for you."

"Yeah, that's why she fucked you behind my back," I said, not quite actually sneering at his remarks.

"Yes, she did, and I did. We fucked and it was pleasant, but it was never really comfortable for either of us. She felt guilty as hell. I think the laughter on her side was a kind of a way to cover the guilt she felt. I don't know, maybe it was for me too.

"You may find this hard to believe, but I have a conscience too, even then I had a conscience. But, I loved her as much as you did, and that love blinded me and filled me with envy and hurt, because I knew that I could never really possess her. Even if we had fucked a thousand times, I could never really possess her; she was yours."

"The laughter," I said, "it was the one thing that had really crossed the line for me, and it still rankles.

"I hate to beat a dead horse, Jerry; but I am going to ask you the same question I asked Melissa that last day in the hotel. Why did you feel the need to laugh at me? I find it real hard to believe that it was just because the two of you felt guilty."

"Truth is," he said, "apart from what I told you, I really don't know. It was a mood, we did feel guilty, the both of us. I was jealous of you. She kept telling me to shut up about you. I kept cracking jokes about you to get her to lighten up. It was a lot of things. I ain't lyin', Mr. Holden; that's the way it was."

I sat back in my chair and considered his words. He had no reason to lie, as he had said. I actually wanted to believe him, but who knew what his agenda might be. Was he sincere in apologizing, trying to set things straight? Did it matter after all of this time? Why did I feel uneasy?

I had to end it, but I also wanted to see this asshole again. I needed to even if I didn't know quite why I needed to. I had more questions, and I needed to have them answered. Damn him! for upsetting my world yet again, albeit in a different way.

"Mr. Cummings. Thank you for coming in. I really am busy, but I do appreciate your words. And… " Did I really want to say what I was about to say? "Come back next week, same day same time. I want to talk with you some more. No, do this instead, meet me at the Round Tree for lunch-make it noon sharp."

"Oh, okay," he said. "I didn't expect…"

"Yes, yes, but you being here was unexpected too. Lunch next week, okay?"

"Yes, sure."

He was no more than ten seconds out the door before I was ringing Rex. I'd had the germ of an idea, and I wanted to explore it. They say the Buddha had achieved bodisattvahood in seven years; it had only taken me four-maybe.

"Rex… yeah it's me… right… say listen, Cummings was here today… did I stutter… yeah, yeah… can you come over… uhhuh… I'll be waiting."

He was there I less than half an hour. I had Sonia just wave him in.

"Okay, Ben, what's the deal? You actually saw the guy? Talked to him?"

"Believe it or not. I'm more surprised than you are. He came to abjectly apologize, and he did. I guess he got out of prison a few months ago. He also told me some stuff that I really would like to know the truth of, and, I thought maybe you could help me out, either you or Annie; or, maybe both," I said. "I gotta know, Rex, and frankly I'm chicken to do it myself."

"Sure if I can," said Rex.

I gave him the long version and he kept nodding as I sang my song. "So whaddya think," I said.

"Wow! I don't know. He was right about one thing; he had no reason to lie. He might be pulling something that's not immediately apparent, but on the surface what he said seems kosher," said Rex. "Still, I think you oughta do this on your own."

"I just can't Rex. I just can't. It would kill me if I tried, and she spit on me. So, do you think you can find her?"

"Sure. But I'm gonna let Annie quiz her? She's a woman, and she won't be swayed by another woman's act. Plus, she's had experience in this area," he said.

"Experience?" I said.

"Yeah, her mom did some cheating-twice-it was a tough row for her and her dad. But, the whole scene eventually had a happy ending.

"Anyway, I'll be in reserve, but I will let her do the actual sit down if Mel is willing to sit down that is."

"It just occurred to me. It's been four years since I've seen or heard from her. She might be remarried. Before you do anything, find out what's up with her first, okay?"

"Sure, but what if she is single-o? Are you thinking you might get back with her?" said Rex.

"I don't know. No, I'm not thinking that way at the moment, but stranger things have happened. And, I don't mind telling you; I have never been able to get her out of my mind, but then you know that don't you," I said.

I was expecting to hear back from Rex in two or three days, but I heard back from him in less than four hours.

"Yeah, I got it. It was easy. She's not hiding. I had the info in less than two hours."

"Well," I said, "let me have it."

"Okay, she's not married. No known attachments either. She works for a PR firm called Wells Good Will Services. She's a top agent for them. She's pulling down maybe sixty-k annual, and in the company she's considered an almost pathological workaholic."

"Okay," I said. "But where is she."

"Well, she sure ain't in California anymore. She's in Dallas."

"Have Annie come by. I wanna talk to her before she heads out."

"Consider it done."

The plane touched down in Dallas fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Annie Carter was alone. This was not the kind of job that required stealth. It was going to be either straight up conversation or straight up confrontation; and it was six to five and pick'em on the morning line.

She gave the driver the address to Wells Good Will Services. No use wasting time. If she could catch the woman in, she could be done in a day one way or the other.

The offices of WGWS were located on the fifth floor of a ten story structure downtown. She straightened her business suit and caught a going-up Otis.

The receptionist looked to be nearing retirement, but the smile and the greeting gave Annie to realize why she worked there: she was good. She introduced herself and asked to see Melissa Holden. The lady indicated a seat and she took it. The woman made the call on the intercom and listened for the response.

"Ms. Holden will be right out, miss."

Annie wondered what the woman would look like. So far, while she knew all about her, she hadn't yet seen a photo; it hadn't been necessary.

The door swung open and a middle aged woman with medium length hair in a smart business suit marched right up to her.

"Hi, I'm Melissa Holden. You're here for the agent's position, am I right?" She smiled winsomely.

"Uh, no ma'am. My name is Annie Carter. I'm here to see you about something private and very personal," she said.

The woman looked her askance. "Oh, may I know who or what this about?" she tested.

"It is personal ma'am."

"Well, okay, follow me," she said. "Mary, hold my calls." Mary nodded.

In the office, Melissa offered her visitor a cup of coffee or… ; Annie opted for tea. Melissa busied herself getting the tea. She made an effort to anticipate what this young woman might want; she was intrigued.

"So, what's this all about," said Melissa.

"I'm here to ask you a few things at the request of Ben Holden," said Annie.

Melissa's face went sheet-white. "Ben!"

"Yes ma'am."

"Please, call me Melissa. So how is my ex-husband?" She'd recovered and was more than a little curious.

"He's fine. He's interested in knowing if you would be willing to meet with him."

Melissa paused. She phrased her response. "Why didn't he come himself," said Melissa.

"I didn't ask, but if I had to guess, he wanted to avoid a confrontation if you were not amenable. I should tell you that Mr. Cummings is out of prison and has been to see Ben himself."

"Oh my gawd!"

"No, no, evidently it was an amicable meet. Mr. Cummings said some things that made Mr. Holden very anxious to meet with you if you're willing."

"Here or there?"

"He told me to tell you that he'd like it there, but he would come here if you insisted," said Annie.

"You know it just occurred to me to ask. Who are you? Are you his girlfriend or…?"

"Oh my gawd no!" said Annie. "I work with Rex Coleman; I'm a PI."

"Aren't you a little young for a job like that?" said Melissa.

"I'm twenty-three and hold a degree in Criminal Justice and a third dan in Okinawan karate," said Annie, smiling broadly.

"I see," said Melissa, smirking.

"Am I allowed to ask any questions here?"

"Sure, Mr. Holden said to tell you anything you wanted to know."

"Nice of him," said Melissa with just a trace of sarcasm in her voice. "Is he married?"

"No, and my boss said to tell you he doesn't date."

Melissa felt like she'd just received a dozen long stem roses.

"What does he want from me?"

"Well, that's a tricky one, and I knew you'd ask. He said what he wants is clarification of a few things that Mr. Cummings told him. But…"

"But what?" said Melissa.

"I'm not sure, Melissa. But, I am of the opinion that he misses you. He didn't tell me to tell you that," said Annie.

"I see. He kicks my ass to the curb and now he wants to see me."

"That's about it, yes," said Annie. "Shall I tell him no then?"

Melissa was lost in thought. This girl knew how to steer a conversation. Too bad she wasn't applying for the job.

"Tell him to come here. He's the one that wants to see me.

"Anything else?" said Melissa.

"No, that about covers it. He anticipated that that would be your choice. He asked if dinner Friday next would be good for you."

"Tell him that would be fine. I will make reservations at the Columbus Club here in town.

"One more thing, Annie: what does he know about me?"

Annie inclined her head as if to say, isn't it obvious. "Everything, Ms. Holden, including the fact that you aren't dating either."

Melissa just nodded her understanding.

After her meeting with Annie, Melissa Holden sat stone still in her chair and sobbed. Four years and she had heard nothing. Her husband, her ex-husband, had kicked her out; and, she admitted, he'd had cause. But now, that same man wanted to see her. Why? She sincerely doubted that he wanted her back. The divorce had been a sullen affair for her; she hadn't contested anything. She'd essentially just left town. She had been able to get a good recommendation from her supervisor, and that had parlayed itself into a decent job at WGWS. She'd moved up the ladder, and now was living the good life, if one could call what she had a good life; she didn't.

And, what about Jerry? He'd suffered the most because of her. He'd been condemned to prison, but he had evidently been paroled after some three years. Well, it hadn't been her that sent him up exactly; it had been his own greed, but she had been the catalyst by which he had been caught and convicted. She'd visited him once soon after he's been incarcerated; it had been one of the saddest moments in her life. She had been as kind as she could, but she had let him know that he and she were no longer an item.

She had held a thing for Jerry for some twenty years, but their cheating and the subsequent upheaval had shown her that she had been woefully in the wrong. She'd destroyed a good man, her own life, and had at least been instrumental in bringing down her lover. What was the old saying: "Cheaters never prosper." Now, after four years, she would be facing the man she had destroyed; it was not going to be easy. But, he'd asked for the meeting; and, truth told, she was curious.

His plane landed at Dallas-Fort Worth at 2:00 in the afternoon. He'd arranged it, so as to be able to relax a little before his 7:00PM appointment with his former wife. He wondered what she looked like. Well, it didn't matter; he'd soon know. The goal was to find out just what had happened that horrible day four years before. Oh, there was no doubt about the cheating; she was guilty, and he had felt the full weight of a humiliated and discarded spouse. The hurt had been unimaginably intense. And, it had been made doubly so because of the laughter; he'd never been able to get over that; it had all but destroyed him.

The damage to his psyche as a result of everything had been so bad as to have required psychological therapy. He'd been seeing a shrink almost from the beginning. The shrink had been able to assuage some of his pain but not all.

The Columbus Club was definitely upscale. No loud crashing sounds from the band, no plastic tablecloths. The wine glasses were crystal and the menus two feet tall and leather bound. Mel sat at a table near a picture window and distant from the stage where a piano was backing up a pretty good contralto. She'd come to love the soft music, the dim romantic lighting, and what she had come to regard as the kindness that the servers displayed in their routine rounds.

She saw him speak to the maitre'd when he entered. He ushered him to the table.

She smiled at him. He returned the favor.

"You look good Mel. I don't know what I expected, but you look good. You look happy," he said.

"Thanks, you're looking pretty good yourself. Glad you came," she said.

"Shall we order first," he said. She nodded.

A waitress arrived with a bottle of chilled wine. "I took the liberty of ordering some wine; I hope you don't mind," she said.

"No, that's fine," he said. "Anyway, how have you been?"

"Okay. I'm working; I work a lot. It takes my mind off of other things," the pause was pregnant. She sipped her wine.

"Yeah, me too," he said, sipping his.

The waitress returned and took their orders.

"I was surprised," she said. "I never thought that I would see you again."

"It was not something I had marked on my calendar either," he said. "But, when your ex-boyfriend showed up, it got me to remembering; and, frankly, I was curious. And… " He paused not knowing exactly how to phrase what he wanted to say. "I still want to know," he said.

"The why?"

"Yes, but more, why you despised me so," he said, testing the waters.

Her face darkened. She had promised herself that she would not cry. This was going to be a business meeting. She would tell him what he wanted to know. Give him closure. But, she was weakening; the meeting was becoming important to her as well.

"He was the boy in that Buick that I told you about. You know when I was a teenager. He was my first love. At first I thought that I had grown up and the world was different for me. You had helped me so much-when you didn't have to. But, I had not grown up, and I had not stopped loving him," she said.

He raised a hand indicating she should continue.

"The problem was that I was in love with you too. Talk about a rock and a hard place. My first love and the love of my life both in the same place at the same time. I was either the luckiest girl who ever breathed air or the unluckiest. Turns out I was the unluckiest, I guess," she said.

"But I digress. I actually made the conscious decision to divide my time between the two of you. The bad part was that you didn't know anything about it; and I was feeling about as guilty as I could.

"When we couldn't use our usual rendezvous, I made up my mind to clue you so that you would get rid of me. I had cheated. In knew you would try to resurrect me and our marriage if you just heard about it or figured it out some way, and that wasn't fair to you.

"I had dishonored you. I didn't deserve you. I wanted to get away from you so that you could be whole again, and I could avoid the punishing reality that would be my life if you took me back and were good to me-too good to me. I couldn't bear not to be trusted by you anymore, and that is the reason for my fucking him in our house."

"But, how can that be? You didn't know I would be there," he said.

"No, that's not so. I didn't know you'd be there that early. Oh no, I fully intended to keep going at it until you did get home. I wanted to be caught and punished: sent packing. But then something awful happened; I wasn't prepared for it. My mind flipped, and I couldn't go through with my plan. So I got him outta there when you called, and tried to fix the place up so that you wouldn't know."

"Yes?"

"Well, you know the rest. You caught us at the hotel, and…"

"You still didn't answer my question?" he said.

"I didn't despise you, Ben, at least believe that. I don't know why you would think that."

"Because of the way you laughed at me. Nothing got to me more than that. I didn't deserve that. I had never done anything to you-or him either if it comes to that. So why, Mel, why?"

"Is it so important to you then? Why we laughed?"

"The most important," he said.

"Because we were getting away with it. You were always so on top of things. Nothing got past you. You'd been around legal things forever. But, you had no clue. It was funny. I know it sounds cold to say it, but it was funny. But despise you? Never! I honored you, and I still do. You are the original good guy. I threw away everything when I threw away our marriage. Truth be told, I wish you would take me back. Oh, I know that will never happen, but I wanted to say it anyway."

"Mel, your honesty tonight makes me feel-I don't know how it makes me feel, but it's something."

"I promised myself that I would be straight with you tonight," she said. "You deserve that much for damn sure."

"You haven't asked about Jerry Cummings," he said.

"No. Jerry and I have nothing any longer. Not since he was sent up. I did visit him once, soon after he was imprisoned. I had to let him know that we were through. He understood. It was sad day in some respects, but it freed my mind from the past in others."

I nodded my understanding of what she said, but I doubted her. He was thinking. "Mel, I want you come back to L.A. next week. Can you do that?"

She looked at him with knitted brow. "Why? What would be the point?" she said.

"I'm not sure myself. Will you come?"

She thought for a long minute. "Maybe. I guess. Okay, I suppose I can do it."

"Thursday?"

"Okay, Thursday."

I decided to have lunch with Rex on Sunday. I had him come over to my place. I needed a little bit of help for what I had planned, and I also wanted his input.

"You can't be serious," said Rex, as I flipped the burgers on the patio grill."

"As a heart attack," I said. "I am going to get me closure on them laughing at me that day if it's the last thing I do."

"You know your ego is way too delicate, Ben. What does it matter what a couple of idiots think or do or laugh at?"

"If you only look at the facts, Rex, if you only use your logical brain, if you really don't care about what people think; then, I have to agree with you. But it ain't about logic or facts or any of that.

"I dedicated my life and my heart to that woman and she crushed it. Him too, but I really do not give a damn about what he thinks-thought. But I cared a lot about what she thinks and thought," I said.

"Thinks?" said Rex.

"Yeah, I still care. I care a lot. I want to make it so she can never have a thought like that again about me. I wanna make it so she'll shoot anybody who does," I said.

"You do still love her don't you?" he said.

"In a way. Not like in the beginning, not like before. There's way too much trash in the yard for me to go back. But, I am damn sure going to get closure; it's been gnawing at me for the last four years and it's not going away," I said.

"So whaddya think of my idea? Really?" I said.

"It's unique. One thing for sure, if it doesn't work; then, it's proof positive that there is no gawd," he said.

Rex was stationed where he needed to be. Just outside the entrance to the Round Tree. He'd found a stone seat near a small water fountain in the parking area. It was still too early for the lunch crowd to star filing in. He sipped the hot, oil-dark liquid rhythmically. Nothing like a late morning cup on a cool day, he thought.

"He looked at his watch. It was three minutes to eleven. He saw her. She was dressed smartly: dark brown skirt, business jacket that was part of the ensemble, hair cascading to a little past her shoulders, and low heels. She may have been fifty years old, but she looked thirty-five. He understood Ben's obsession with this woman. He watched as she entered the restaurant.

"Hi," said Ben as she approached.

"Hi, Ben. The place looks the same. I have to tell you; I almost didn't come," she said taking a seat. "But, I said I would so here I am."

"Don't worry, Melissa, you didn't make a mistake. The only reason I had you come here was in case I am wrong, and then no harm no foul as they say."

"Wrong? Wrong about what?" she said.

"Before we talk, would you like something? I've ordered a beer," I said.

"Same," she said. He held up two fingers signaling the waitress who had been forewarned that he would do so.

The two drafts were delivered one minute later. Melissa sipped at the golden elixir. "Okay," she said, "wrong?"

"I've done my homework, Mel. You know me, ever the investigator, researcher."

"Yes of course, but…"

"You say you visited him in prison?" I said.

"Yes, I told you that. I broke it off with him. That was more than three years ago. I told you. I didn't lie to you, Ben."

"No, no, I know you didn't lie. That's not what I'm getting at. Why did you break it off with him?" I said.

"I-I-it was the right thing to do, that's why."

"The right thing to do, Mel?" I said.

"Too much water under the bridge. Too many bad things happened. He-and I-were guilty of so many things-I just couldn't deal with any of it anymore. I had to get away from all of it. He understood. It had to be done."

"You think about him much, I mean now?" I said.

"Ben, what is all this about? Why are you asking me about him? He's history. Hell, I'm history if it comes to that," she said.

"Is he? I think you're still in love with him," I said.

"What!"

I sat back and smiled. I'd struck a nerve and I was enjoying the hell out of it.

"Ben, I am no longer in love with him. Actually if it is of any consequence to you, I'm still in love with you," she said.

"Thank you for that, I said. "I think that you do love me, in a way. But it's not the passionate husband-wife love that I need or that you need. I thought we had that once. And, I think I did; I know I did. But, you, always in the back of your mind were the events of that night in the back seat of that Buick with him when you were both teenagers. You never got by that.

"You cheated with him, and I think it was a struggle for you to do it, at first anyway. But, as you continued and got away with it more and more; you began giving him what you should have been giving me. That was a whole lot of stuff for me to swallow; I don't mind telling you; it hurt real bad!"

"Ben, you know I can never forgive myself for that. I know I hurt you. I deserved exactly what I got, and so did he. We've paid, and that dearly. I hope you understand, that as much as I regret all of it; I have had to get on with my life, and get past it," she said. "I refuse to beat myself up anymore than I already have."

"And you are right about that; you must not beat yourself up about it anymore. Do let it go. I hope after today that I can do as much," I said. "But, in truth, I don't think that you've not gotten past it as well as you think; and I think you know it," I said.

"Ben, I have so! I have a good job now. I have a nice place. I have a life," she said.

"Yes, I guess you could argue the point. But, no friends, no dates in four years, no activities that are not directly job related. You're hiding from life, Mel, and I have been too. But, after today both of us are done fooling ourselves."

She started to object, but he raised his hand to stop her. "Bear with me, okay?" I said.

"You have a problem. I know you still love that guy, and I understand it now. I actually got an understanding of it in therapy after our breakup.

"I cannot share the woman in my life with anyone. It just ain't happenin'. And, I need a woman in my life. The thing is it can't be you; you're heart wouldn't be in it, not really. Tell me if I'm wrong, but if I'd asked you to marry me today that you would have accepted, and that tearfully?"

"Ben-I-"

"Just tell me if I'm wrong," I said, a little too forcefully.

"Maybe, I've thought about it," she said.

"But, that would have been a horrendous mistake. I do not want to live some rewritten script of the Heloise and Abelard saga. There would have been no possible happy ending to a story like that, and that's for sure. And, Mel, I want to be happy. I've thrown away four years because of all of this, and so have you. I guess in a way we've both been punished for our mistakes. But, make no mistake, there will always be a small corner in this heart of mine for you; I admit it."

"Ben, I don't know what to say. And, I don't know what you're saying. What are you getting at for gawd's sake!"

Rex saw him arrive and intercepted him. "Mr. Cummings. Please come with me," said Rex. He pulled him aside to where they were out of the way of the now arriving lunch crowd; it was almost noon.

"What do you want? I have a meeting inside…"

"Yes, I know, and I will take you to it, in a minute. Just bear with me," said Rex.

Rex looked at his watch. It was straight up noon. "Let's go inside," he said finally.

Rex led him physically to the table where Ben and Melissa were sitting. Jerry Cummings didn't see them till they were almost on top of them because he was trying to get free of the arm hold that his guide was enforcing.

They stopped four feet behind the woman's chair.

"Hello, Jerry," said Ben, looking up at the new arrivals.

Melissa spun around. "Jerry!"

"Melissa!"

"Have a seat gentlemen," said Ben.

Jerry slid in across from Melissa, and Rex took the fourth seat.

"I never thought I'd be doing this," i said. "But it's the only way I can get closure. What you two did to me, said about me, has never left me. My compadre here assures me all of the time that I'm completely mad. Well, I'm not. I figure that if I can straighten out a few things that maybe I can get by all of the things you said about me that day, and doubtless other days, over that year's time so long ago."

"I figure that if we can set things aright that maybe you won't think of me that way anymore-I mean really," I said. I began to feel tears welling up inside of me, but I fought them down. I wasn't sure, but I think Melissa picked up on it; it didn't matter.

"Ben, what is this? Jerry, what are you doing here?"

"I'm giving you two another chance. I'm the big-assed matchmaker here today I guess. You both love each other. You have since high school, maybe even before that. It's that simple," I said.

"It would have been most difficult to tell who betwixt my two table guests was the more stunned-Rex didn't count in the equation. He was here to be my witness, and to give me moral support-which I viscerally needed at that moment. I was reminded of the famous lines from a Tale of Two Cities, "It is a far, far better thing than I have ever done."

"Ben-"

"Mel, don't blow this. It's right, and we both know it."

"Mr. Holden," said Jerry, finally finding his voice," I can't-I mean I'm on parole-I can't-"

I nodded, "Rex, you got 'em?"

Rex pulled an envelope from his pocket. He handed it to Jerry.

Jerry took it tentatively. The last time he'd gotten a paper it had been the official notification of his conviction. He read it. "How-when?"

"The law firm I work for has some very influential friends; trust me it's real," I said. "You're a free man; your parole is at an end."

Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes; that surprised me. "I have only one request," I said. I was addressing Melissa. I would most appreciate it if you didn't laugh at me anymore. I won't know if you do of course, but i hope you won't."

Jerry had let his hand creep across the table and cover Melissa's. She eyed him, and then smiled her feelings to him. She looked at me.

"Ben, to say I don't know what to say-well, I don't know what to say," she said. "Wait, yes I do. Ben, the idea of laughing at you will never cross my mind or his either-will it Jerry." Hers was not a question.

"Not even," he said sincerely.

"I have taken the liberty of booking you a room here. Use it in good health," I said.

We talked for some more minutes, we ate; and then Rex and I parted for the crossroads, our favorite watering hole.

I hadn't quite told them the truth when I had indicated that I wouldn't know if they laughed at me or not. Rex had seeded the room with some very sophisticated sound equipment; he'd be letting me know very soon if I had been a fool or not.

Rex was out of town for a week, so I hadn't heard anything from him during that time. He was seated across from me now with a recorder ready to play it. I stopped him.

"Just tell me," I said. "I don't want to hear it."

"Yes, you do. So listen up," he said.

"He sure surprised me," said Jerry.

"Me too. I don't know how we could have been that way toward him. He's a better person than either of us."…

I have several hours of this stuff. They're cool and they both love you. Now, you can get a life," laughed Rex.

Two days later. I was faunching at the bit and little nervous. Finally, I punched the intercom. "Sonia, would you come in for a minute please."

I looked at my thirty-eight year old special assistant. She was dressed as always, smart, fresh, and a trifle sexily. "So, Sonia, what are you doing for lunch?"

She looked at me funny. "Mr. Holden? Are you asking me for a date?"

I smiled the smile of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Can't fool you, Ms. Keating. If I'm off base-"

"No, no, I would love to have lunch with you, Mr. Holden, but be warned, I am very high maintenance," she said.

"Sounds good to me," I said.

Sonia and I became an item from that day a year ago. Since a week past she had been wearing the ring I had given her. We were walking out to go to lunch when Rex strode up to us. He was smiling like a possum.

"Okay, gumshoe," I said, "what's the big 'ole smile about? You inherit money or somethin'?" I laughed.

He handed me a sheet of paper. I read it. "This for real," I said.

"Yep. They've named it after you. Figured you'd like to know."

-----------------------------

   Series:Benedict and Veronica Horton
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:He's a genius she's a nymph that needs it a lot: rought times.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/69809/benedict-and-veronica-horton
Published:2011-11-26
Benedict, Ben or Benny, Horton, Veronica, or Ronnie, Horton nee Parker: that's us. Both aged forty. Married going on fourteen years I guess. Happy? She is, I'm not, and for damn good reason: she's been cheating on me. And, not just cheating on me, but serial cheating on me, with at least four different men including my boss, and that for at least the last thirteen years; she admits to that long. And, I just found out about it today. Fuck! How did I find out? Well, that's the story, at least the biggest part of the story.

But, to really understand the situation the way it needs to be understood, you have to understand our history: Veronica's and mine. To do that we've gotta go back to the beginning. We have to go back to our last days in high school.

"Veronica Parker, you are not just pretty tonight. You are flat gorgeous," I said. "I mean flat gorgeous!" There had never been an example of sincerity to equal my current one.

Oh yeah, me? Eighteen years old, about to grad high school, an intellectual giant, and a social pariah. Five-six, a bit on the chubby side, singularly plain looking if not actually ugly: not much for the girls to love, I guess. But, at least no acne thank god! Anyway, now, at the end of my high school career, I would be graduating with honors, with a scholarship and-and it's a big and-my date for tonight's prom is the most beautiful seventeen year-old girl in the world: Veronica Parker.

"Of course," she said pirouetting in front of me. "You think I might get a few offers to dance from other boys tonight?" I was already thinking bad thoughts, but I had a plan-didn't I?

"A few offers? It's gonna be all I can do to defend your honor. Heck, I might have to fight Gilford over you. You know how he is," I said. I was smiling, but I was not kidding. Roger Gilford was my worst enemy; he was also her longtime boyfriend, or, had been. He was my worst enemy because he was jealous that I had won the bet and that figured to be a small problem. The bet was that I wouldn't be able to get Ronnie to go out with me. Of course I had cheated a little: I'd blackmailed Ronnie into it.

Veronica was not a military genius, and, more specifically, she wasn't a genius at writing term papers: especially term papers in Physics, and well, I was. She'd begged me for weeks to help her, and, to prep her for the final; and I'd finally said okay, but there'd be a price. She had to go to the prom with me.

She'd balked at first, but then she'd had a thought, and I knew it. Her idea was that she could get a little revenge on good 'ole Roger for having cheated on her with Pamela Mason. And, she figured, and probably rightly, that Roger would see it as her trading up, i.e., the school brainiac over the school jock. Well, I could dream, right? At any rate Veronica was going with me, and I was never more thrilled. The best looking girl in the school, and maybe even the state, was going with me. And, I had plans: spare no expense, make my case for a second date, and prove my worth to her as a potential significant other-long term potential significant other. Well, those were my plans, and I'd prepped them.

Arriving at the country club, The La Dolce Vita, where the prom was to be held; we were greeted by all of the A-listers that a girl like Veronica had in her train. Most of them had never spoken to me, or, if they had, whatever they'd said had arrogance and sarcasm mixed in with the message. I did get a bit of respect on this night, however, I'd been selected as class valedictorian, and that did carry some weight with the student body even among the mostly intellectually bereft of the social set; hey, maybe especially with them. They may have been collectively dumb, but they all knew that adulthood waited menacingly just around the corner, and most of them feared it-I didn't because I knew beyond the vaguest shadow of a doubt that I was going to succeed. Add to that that I was sure damn few of them would. Oh yes, it was my turn to be confident if not actually arrogant, and I had plans for the night.

I was at the punch bowl, getting my date and I some of the not yet tampered with elixir when I sensed a presence looming over my shoulder. "Hey, shorty, you need to rethink whatever you have planned for after the prom. I'll be taking Ronnie to the parties, not you," said Roger. I turned: Jesus! he was big.

"Hmm, well, we'll just let Ronnie make that decision. Uh-not you," I said, very casually. "You lost the bet, Roger, try and live with your grief."

"The bet was for the prom, but not the parties, and I am claiming my girl back by night's end. Actually, I may do it even before then," he said.

"We'll see," I said. I was acting far more confident than I felt.

Ronnie and I were sitting with a group of her friends and one or two of mine. We'd danced three times: two slow and one fast. She was the same height as me, at five-six, but with her heels on, she did seem to tower over me. It bothered me a little, but I was dealing with it.

I had just turned to speak with Jill Capshaw, one of Ronnie's friends, who'd asked me a question, when he came up to us.

"Have this dance, Ron?" said Roger. It was a slow dance. She looked at me, smiled, and let him lead her out onto the floor. For the next two hours I got in exactly one more dance with her as Roger and his entourage of jocks and hangers-on dominated her dance card. In between dances, I saw her and spoke with her for maybe a total of five or ten minutes worth. Then it was time for the last dance of the evening. She danced it with him.

I tried to catch up with her at the end of the dance, but I was blocked in that attempt by several very large bozos no doubt on orders from their master. I heard later that she did indeed go to the all-nighters with Roger. And, she did it without so much as a word to me. I wonder if she even gave a flying fuck about my feelings on the matter. I decided that she didn't. Well, as Robert burns once said, "so much for the well laid plans of mice and men," or something like that.

I couldn't really complain. I knew she was his girl, had been since the ninth grade. And, I knew she was only out with me because she wanted revenge, and I guess I seemed a useful tool to that end. But all of that said, I still felt sick to my stomach about not even getting a polite goodbye-if-I-never-see-you-again-hello from her. Beautiful she was, but clearly a decent person she was not.

Graduation was three weeks later, and I did my turn at the lectern and did it well. Oh, I saw her in the audience, grad cap on, and looking ever so much like one of the masses condemned forever to a life of quiet desperation. She waved to me and blew me a kiss when I came off the stage after having gotten my diploma. I made a point of scowling and turning away from her. Jill Capshaw stopped me as I headed for my mom and the small group of friends that had come to cheer me on.

"Hi Ben. You okay?" said Jill. I looked her askance.

"Yes. Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" I said. I wasn't being nasty or sarcastic, but maybe my look said more than my tone or my words. Apparently that was the case.

"You actually look angry," she said.

"What?" I said.

"When your girlfriend blew you a kiss, you sent her a look that would kill small game," she said.

"Girlfriend? What girlfriend?" I said. Okay, like I said, I'd seen Veronica throw me a kiss, but I read nothing into it. Certainly not that she was interested in being my girlfriend.

"You know very well what girlfriend-Veronica. She asked me to ask you if you would talk to her," said Jill.

"Tell her not a chance. I haven't forgotten what she did to me on prom night, probably never will," I said. And I stalked off and away from her.

That was the end of my in-my-dreams romance with Veronica Parker; or, so I thought. I was to be proved more than wrong. Oh, if I'd only known then what I knew now.

I felt fortunate, so did my mom, who'd been single since my dad had died on the job at the Cheese processing plant when I was ten. She'd been hard pressed to pay the bills, but somehow she'd managed until now. My graduation as valedictorian and my scholarship were as much for her as they were for me, at least on some level.

The Badgers of the University of Wisconsin had selected me as a recipient of a full ride scholarship. And, being a member of Mensa, as I was, I had accepted their selection and had begun the journey that would eventually end in an MBA in Business Administration, specializing in employee and customer relations. I had dreams of being the best in my field at some very big store-say Boeing or maybe Atlantic Richfield. Yes indeed, fortunate was the word.

My not so secret love, and not a member of Mensa, Veronica, was also accepted to UW. But, alas, her high school two-point-five GPA, and her marginal SAT scores did not support a scholarship bid. But, she was there, and also in the Business school. What luck right? Not.

The Milton F. Hauser building housed, among others, the Personnel Development classes of the school of Business Administration. The basement of the building is home to Badger Sett, a smallish café, seating for maybe fifty. The BS was the primary, "during the day," hangout for students like me. The loose meat sandwiches were pretty good, and the background elevator music was more to my taste than was the modern stuff in some of the other campus fooderies. I was listening to a piece by Pierre Bachelet: Emmanuelle. Knew it well; I was more than certain no one else in the school of Biz did.

I was buried in my text when I heard laughing and general verbal bedlam in the booth behind me.

"You went to your high school prom with some mister nerdy?" said a voice I didn't recognize. A gaggle of geese were giggling and guffawing, apparently at somebody's expense in the booth behind me!

"Yes, and I shouldn't have. Roger played me and got me to go to the parties with him afterward. I kinda abandoned the poor guy, I mean Benny," said a voice I did recognize. "I felt like shit doing it to him, but Roger and I… " My stomach was almost instantaneously in rebellion when I realized that I was the butt of their laughter.

I'd heard enough. I got up and came around to them. "Good afternoon Veronica," I said. "A mister nerdy am I? Well, maybe so. But, I'm not some poor nobody deserving of your contempt, or of the insults that you and your kind," I gestured at the group of geese around the table, "are heaping on me behind my back. Actually, you have my sympathy. People low class enough to say things, like you and your friends are saying about me, are definitely worthy of pity. Have a nice day." I stalked off leaving the five of them with their mouths hanging open. I felt good-I think. I certainly felt as though I'd gotten my licks in. I wouldn't be seeing Veronica again, I was pretty sure of that. Of course, I was wrong again and that on several levels.

I actually saw her, more or less at a distance, several times a week. She had classes in the Hauser. A couple of times I had the feeling that she wanted to say something to me, probably apologize for talking about me behind my back, but as for that I wasn't sure; she never actually tried to say anything to me per se. But, even that changed a couple of weeks after my encounter with her at the BS, sort of.

I was coming out of my dorm. It was getting dark, and I was on my way to the Pizzeria a couple of blocks away.

"Hey asshole, you insulted my girl," said a voice from the shadows. The voice belonged to Roger Gilford; I recognized it immediately. I turned to say something intelligent, and I was met by a typhoon of mayhem. I never had a chance. I wouldn't have had anyway. I was still five-six and a hundred-sixty kind of out of shape pounds. Roger, on the other hand, was six-three, an understated two-hundred and twenty pounds of steel hard muscle and sinew, and he was most definitely not out of shape. He cleaned my clock and left me bloody and very messed up. I heard him laughing as he walked off and left me there.

The ER pronounced me alive, but I figured that was only a technical thing and likely only temporary-very temporary-or so I reasoned in view of the pain I was in. Two days later I was surprised to be given my walking papers.

"No broken bones. Sorry about the tooth mister Horton. If you sue the guy, maybe you can get him to pay to replace it," she said.

"Thanks doctor." I said. She nodded.

"I'd stay off my feet at least for a few days though, mister Horton," she said. "You don't have any broken bones, but you do have a mild concussion, and some fairly severe bruising.

"Okay," I said.

"Oh, and Mister Horton, the police are here to see you," she said.

I gave the police my statement. They told me, that since there were no witnesses, that it would be my word against his. I could bring a lawsuit against the guy, but the pudding would have to be proven by me. I thanked them for their time and slowly, very slowly, made my way home.

Mom nursed me and fiddled and fussed over me the following week. My profs were informed of the attack and of my physical state; I was given a deal of academic slack until I was able to return to class. And then, on Saturday, I had a visitor at the house. You had to know who it was.

"Benny, some young lady is here to see you," said Mom. My intuition told me who it was. I figured she was there to see if I would be amenable to not suing the asshole. If that was it, I told myself, I would sue for sure even if there was little chance of proving my case.

I was sitting out on the patio at the umbrella table sipping an ice tea when she came out. She was new car beautiful, no surprise there. And, she belonged to the guy who had put me in the hospital for objecting to her dissing me behind my back. Talk about situations.

"Hi," she said.

"What can I do for you, Veronica?" I said, and no it was not my friendliest tone.

"May I sit?" she said. Her voice was soft, very much on the quiet side. I guessed she figured that arrogant wasn't going to fly on this particular day. I gave her a noncommittal nod to go ahead and sit.

"I'd say I was sorry, Ben, but that would be so inadequate that I won't waste your time. I know he did it to you. He didn't even try to deny it. In fact he kind of bragged about it. I guess he thought he was defending my honor or something," she said.

"Your honor? How about my honor? You know the one you were trashing to your friends," I said. She looked down.

"I guess this was a mistake," she said, and got up to go. I said nothing.

"Fuck yeah, it was a mistake," I said, finally…

She stopped just before going into the house to leave. She turned and looked at me. "Benny, would you like to-I mean would you go out with me?" she blurted. I stared at her for a long minute. I couldn't believe the gall.

"Go out with you? What are you talking about?" I said. "After all of the things you said about me, let alone what your lover boy did to me!" She started to leave again, but stopped again, and turned. She took a step toward me.

"I want to make it up to you, all of the things that I've done to you. The prom, me dissing you, my ex-boyfriend beating you up: I want to make it all up to you if you'll let me. I'm told I'm a fun date," she said. She tried to smile, but failed in the main.

"Ex-boyfriend?" I said.

"Yes. I kicked him to the curb after what he did to you. That was unconscionable, and totally not what I would ever have wanted or approved of," she said.

She'd floored me. I remembered two things about the prom. One, it started out as the most exciting night of my life, that even knowing that it was likely a onetime thing in spite of my plans. And, it ended being one of the worst nights of my life. That said, she was my secret fantasy and had been forever, or so it seemed.

"A date with me? A makeup date?" I said.

"Yes," she said. "Benny, I was a shit two weeks ago. You've never been anything but nice to me, and helpful. I owe you," she said. I'd been leaning toward going out with her; but, she'd just said the one thing that put the kibosh on it. I didn't want her doing me favors because she owed me. If she didn't like me for me, like going out with me; then, there could only be one answer.

"No," I said. "You don't owe me anything. We all make mistakes. Just let it be. Please just let yourself out; I still have a little trouble getting up and down," I said. I think she started crying.

"Okay, Benny, but the offer is open, no expiration date," she said, and then she was gone.

She felt like shit? I felt like shit! I wanted her in the worst way; and yeah, I knew every other guy in the place did too. But, I also didn't need the pity thing, not even. I had some pride for goodnesssakes, not much but some!

I did get the tooth replaced-at my own expense. I didn't sue Roger. And no, I have no real good reason as to why I didn't. I guess the bottom line was that I didn't want to fool with the lawyers and maybe lose or come out of it with a less than a satisfactory result. And I was, quite frankly, too damn busy! Anyway, I'm a firm believer in the truism that what goes around comes around. He'd get his; I just had to hope I'd be there holding coat of whoever nailed him.

College except for the few little bumps in the road already alluded to had been good. I walked the stage, after four years receiving my B.A. and my MBA on the same day. Veronica still had to make up one semester in spite of a herculean effort on her part to grad on time. And no, I wasn't keeping track of her. She'd come up to me on my grad day and told me. Took me to dinner the following night too; and yes, I did accommodate her-well, I did have two college degrees; my feelings of self-worth had been considerably enhanced. And, it was only dinner and a onetime never to be repeated thing anyway; so I went. I was curious.

We said our goodbyes and I headed off to begin my new career.

I'd been hired even before I graduated. I was in the sales division of Mercury Software. I was a high end peddler of some very expensive computer business systems that only the most sophisticated users would be interested in. The upshot was that, after a year in the trenches, I got paid accordingly. My boss, mister Watson, VP of sales, appreciated my talents and work ethic and rewarded me accordingly. Twenty-four years old and pulling down, when bonuses were included, $100,000 annual. I was feelin' good. Oh yeah. My first year with Mercury had been excellent. The learning curve had been ninety degrees to the plane, but I was a fast learner, and, as it turned out, a good salesman. Actually I was the company's number one salesman. It was just after Memorial Day that an opportunity, that had been totally unexpected, came my way.

I was just finishing up a lunch meeting with Greg Albright, president of Western Systems: a company mainly involved with security stuff for high-rise office buildings, and the like. He liked our product line, and he'd signed on. I was feelin' fine-fine super fine.

"Got a party to go to tonight, Ben, you wanna come?" he said.

"A party?" I said.

"Well, actually it's a party, but there's also a ballroom dance competition in the early evening. It's a hobby of mine. It's how I blow off steam after a long day in the trenches. Anyway, if you're interested, here's the address," he said. He pulled out a small pad and jotted down the particulars. "My private cell number's on there too."

"Well, thanks, Greg, I just might do that," I said. And, I did do that, and it changed my life-and complicated it.

Everybody was dressed to the nines; heck, the ladies were dressed to the tens! Now, I can dance, or thought that I could, but not like these people. I did however, after the competition, get a few rounds in with a couple of ladies that tweaked my fancy, and who seemed to be not all that embarrassed at my relative ineptitude as a hoofer. One such lady, Barbara Hillings in particular seemed interesting. We'd just taken our seats, after a round of Fox Trotting, when Barbara looked over at me and smiled.

"Tell me, Ben, are you involved with anyone?" she said.

"Involved? Uh-no," I said. "No time for that kind of thing."

"Really, well at least one female here seems to wish that you were-I mean with her," said Barbara.

"Not real likely, Barb, I don't know anybody here, and I'm realist enough to know that I'm not exactly a prize. You, Marsha, and Gladys have been nice enough to show me some mercy on the dance floor tonight; I mean by dancing with me, but I'm way too savvy to read anything more into it," I said. She laughed.

"Don't sell yourself short, bub. You're not by any means chopped liver, and you have potential as a dancer. But, I'm referring to her," she said, nodding her head toward something behind me. I turned to look, and I know for a blood mortal fact that stunned surprise was painted all over my face.

"Veronica!" I squeaked, as she approached our table.

"Hi, I'm Veronica," said Veronica, ignoring me while introducing herself to Barbara.

"Barbara," said Barbara. "Nice to meet you."

"Same here," said Veronica.

"Wait-wait," I said. "Ronnie, what are you doing here?" I said.

"Well Bennie, I like to dance, and I come here fairly often, actually. I'm not sure you'd call it my hangout, but, for lack of a better term, it's my hangout," she said.

"Really," I said.

"Obviously, you two know each other pretty well," said Barbara.

"Oh-sorry-Barb. Uh-yes we have kind of a history. Went to the same schools at the same time and stuff," I said.

"Well, to paraphrase you, Ben-really?" said Barbara.

"Uh-I mean yes," I said.

"What Bennie means to say… " started Veronica.

"Never mind," said Barbara. "Veronica, Ben, you two clearly have something to say to each other. I think I'll just mosey on around and hunt me down one or another of my partners in crime.

"Call me, Ben. When you get a chance," said Barbara.

"Uh-yes-depend on it," I said. And my new friend Barbara Hillings was gone. Veronica Parker took the seat next to me.

"Was she right, Bennie?" said Veronica. I could feel her leg pressing into mine. My junior sized johnson was responding predictably.

"Right?" I said.

"Do we have something to say to each other?" she said. I shrugged.

"Don't know what?' I said.

"Well, how about you have a little mercy on this girl and ask me out," she said. Boy was this a full court press or what, I thought.

I stared at her for a moment. Did I want to take the chance of getting burned, beat up, humiliated, whatever again? Yes, we'd had that one dinner after my grad from college, but somehow that didn't seem the same thing. That night, I'd figured I'd be safe because the next day I'd be gone and she'd still be at UW. But this was different. "What are you doing Saturday night, Veronica Parker," I said, throwing caution to the winds.

"Well let me think, Benny Horton," she said, smirking like a nymph that was trying to fake playing hard to get. "I'm sorry, but I think I have a date this Saturday. Some nerdy guy-uh-Benny's his name."

"Yeah, I know the guy. Tall, dark, handsome? Right?" I said.

"No actually: short, light skinned, brilliant. Handsome? Hmm, let's just say not ugly," she said. Nothing like telling it like it is, I thought…

"Anyway, a date? You and me? I won't get beat up or abandoned?" I said.

"Yes a date, and absolutely not those other things!" she said.

"Okay, the nerds are us bus will pick you up at seven," I said. She scowled at my reference to nerdists.

I arrived at her place, a small single story ranchstyle condo on the outskirts of town right on time. I parked, went to her door and rang. I stood there holding a small bouquet; I was dressed to go out on the town.

She answered the door, and she took my breath away. The high heels and the teddy she was dressed in left me almost speechless, but I did recover.

"I thought we were going to dinner," I said. "I mean…"

"We are, but after I have proved to you my abilities as a female," she said. I swallowed.

"Okay," I squeaked. God, was I pussywhipped or what.

The manhattans were already poured. I guess she'd been pretty sure that I wouldn't be late. Hell, I wondered if any boy had ever dared be late for a date with her.

She watched me as I sipped my drink with a little more gusto than might have been the case under ordinary circumstances.

"Nervous?" she said. Clearly she wasn't.

"I-I-I don't know. Maybe," I said.

"Don't be. I'm going to let you fuck me, and we, the both of us are going to enjoy the heck out of it, and then I am going to get dressed and we are going to go out on the town," she said. I could feel my face flushing as she talked, and I was sure she was doing her level best to stifle a giggle at my distress.

"Okay," I said. I was still squeaking.

We didn't hurry and the manhattans helped: at any rate they sure did me. She was being-what-patient. As I threw back the last drop of the tasty cocktail, she stood, came to me, and offered me her hand. I let her guide me to my feet.

"Come on, little man, let's see what you've got," she said. I frowned at her little man remark, but for damn sure this was not the moment to be overly sensitive about my size.

"I'm comin'," I said. We headed for a short hall where three doors, one at the far end and where the two others faced each other at the front. We walked the extra ten feet to the one at the end. She went in and I followed.

It was largish and very nicely appointed. Maybe twenty-foot square. What I estimated was a queen sized bed was off set a little to the left, it was the room main feature. There was the inevitable vanity flanked by drawers. There was a complex headboard behind the bed where various electrical things were cloistered. The door to the adjoining bathroom was open as the door to what I assumed was the walkin closet was not. I was a woman's room, and more, it was he room.

It was clear to me that miss Parker might not have been the greatest student who ever lived, but she was not poor. I learned later that she was a trust fund child. She dropped my hand which she had held for the entire walk to the room and went and stood by the bed facing me.

"Strip," she said. She was clearly going to be taking charge of events. I nodded.

Apparently, I was a little slow for her however, and she took on an impatient look. "Well, hurry up," she said. "I need a good screwing and patience is not one of my virtues." I speeded up the process and stood waiting for instructions. Jesus! what a wimp I was. It was no wonder that women didn't exactly flock to my door.

She came to me and looked down obviously appraising my equipment. "Hmm," she said. "Not real big, but judging by the veins and the purple of the head, probably serviceable." Now, I had to say something, wimp or not.

"Jesus! Veronica, You got any more put downs for me. If so let's get 'em out of the way now, so we can get down to business," I said. I'd finally grown some balls. She flashed me a smirk.

"Sensitive are we? Well, sorry if I upset you. But, if we're going to continue this relationship, I don't want to have to be faking it or lying to you about things that mean anything for the entire time we're married," she said. To say that her words floored me, stunned me, flabbergasted me, would have been an understatement of heroic proportions.

"What?" I said. Suddenly I was on cloud nine, and not even sure I hadn't actually died and gone to heaven. She smiled.

"We'll talk later little man, my little man, but for the moment I want you on your knees, lifting my teddy, pulling down my panties, and staring at your altar. Do you think you can manage that?" she said. A nanosecond later, naked and on my knees, I did exactly as she had directed. And an altar for me it was. God almighty was she beautiful.

A pubis barren of a single hair, dew oozing from the slit between the folds of her labia: she was Aphrodite personified. She was clearly already hot to trot-well-about half as hot to trot as I was!

I leaned in to kiss her secret place. I began licking her, then sucking her, then, burying my face in her. She pushed me gently away. She turned.

"Now my anus," she said. I obeyed without the slightest delay. She mooed and shivered as I licked the little brown button between her ass cheeks. Stopping me with a little shove, she returned to the bed and leaned forward over it, butt pushed back, legs spread wide. She still wore the teddy and the heels, but the flimsy panties had been shed.

"You are so incredible, so very damn incredible," I said.

She looked back toward where I still knelt. "Well, if I'm so incredible," she said, giggling, "then get over her and screw me."

I rose to do that which I had dreamed off forever. I stood behind her and fingered her for a moment or two; then, sucked her nectar from my fingertips. I leaned into her, pressing my dick as deep inside of her as I could. She seemed loose, which was both a good and bad thing. Good because entry was easy, bad because I knew she might not be able to get off from my efforts. But, nothing was going to stop me now. Buried in her, I began seesawing back and forth. I Lasted maybe three or four minutes before I erupted inside of her painting the walls of her vagina white.

Pulling out, I pushed her onto the bed and rolled half on top of her. I began kissing her and feeling her up, and a few minutes later I was hard again, and I took her missionary. I think I whispered that I loved her fifty times while I screwed her. She said nothing, just closed her eyes and let me do her. Finally, I came again; though this time it took longer. Her eyes opened as I shrank from her.

"Now, I know what you've got," she said. "I will need to train you some, but, you have potential." Not wanting to be argumentative at this moment of moments in my life, I kept my mouth shut.

We cuddled for a little bit after our second go 'round, and then she rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. As she opened the bathroom door to go in, she looked back at me. "Well, get dressed," she said. "We're going out." I gave her and "are you serious" look, but by then the door was closing and I was left to get dressed.

The date was good. Real good. She reiterated her marriage proposal, and I, being the gentleman that I was. Got down on my knees in the restaurant and, pro forma, begged her to marry me. And, she, being the merciful princess that she was, allowed that she would so honor me. We continued to date of course, and seven and a half months later we were married in a small church affair paid for by her parents. It was, I hoped, a good beginning.

Years one through thirteen of our lives together were wonderful. I had to pinch myself every day to make myself realize how lucky I was. Veronica Parker was all mine. Children had not been in the cards for us, she'd turned out to be not exactly barren, as she told me; but pregnancy at best was a long shot. A disappointment, but the way I figured it, nobody got everything he or she wanted. She apparently felt the same way. We got on with our lives.

It was near the end of year two of my career at Mercury, and year one of our marriage, that things happened that would lead in the long run to marital disaster. I just didn't know it at the time.

The sex during that first year had been all but legendary. The cuddling at night was reassuring and protective of a very insecure husband's psyche. I had a keeper in Veronica; I knew it, and I thanked God for it.

It'd been some night. We'd just finished burning calories big time. "Good for you?" she said. She was naked and lying legs slightly parted with cum dripping from her slit as we both tried to catch our breath.

"Oh yeah," I said. "More than good." I sensed her smiling. I rolled onto my side and kissed her beautiful breast. I took the nipple in my mouth and sucked like a hungry child. She giggled.

"Silly man, that tickles," she said, pushing my mouth away. I faked a frown.

"Food from the mouth of your baby boy?" I whined.

"If you need nourishment, honey buns, get down there and do your duty," she said, giggling even louder than she had been. I slid down her body and began lapping at her pussy and enjoying my own cream pie for all I was worth. I needed her pussy right then, but after twice draining everything I had from my ball sac, I was reduced to using my tongue to get her off.

I felt her shudder; I knew she'd finally made it. We were quiet for some little time after that. She broke the silence.

"Bennie?" she said.

"Yes, dear heart?" I said.

"I want to go to work. I mean I want to get a job. I mean I am college educated-finally. I want to do something-useful," she said.

"Work? A job? You sure, honey girl? I mean you don't have to. We're doing all right the way things are right now; we don't need the money," I said.

"No, no. You do fine; we do fine. It's not about the money though I guess one can never really have enough of that. No, it's me. I just want to do more than keep house and do laundry," she said. "I'm almost twenty-six years old and feeling kinda-something."

"Well, okay. Any idea what you'd like to do?" I said.

"Well, at your company barbecue last week I heard that your Mercury was looking to hire a couple of office assistants. Any chance I could get a job where you work?" she said.

"I can ask," I said. "Yes, that might be a good thing. I do have a contact or two in HRO that might work out. I'll check it out on Monday. Okay?" She put her arms around me and hugged me tight.

"Thank you, honey, you're the best," she said. For some reason, actually no reason, I felt a little uneasy about her wanting to go to work; but I saw no way to gracefully tell her no. She was an adult, and her own person; I had no real choice.

I did get her the job, and in fact, I got her "the" job. She was now my boss' assistant.

Regardless, once she started working, far from it impacting our sex lives in any negative way, it enhanced it-markedly!

She was happy, I was happy, and I was certain that in a short time my boss would be happy with his choice of assistants. What I didn't know for a long time was just exactly how happy Veronica was going to make him.

Veronica's first months on the job were pretty routine. But, after maybe six or eight months I did notice that she had occasional late night meetings and work sessions with our mutual boss and others of the high command. But, I had to let my discomfiture slide. I had meetings too, and occasional late night planning sessions were mandatory: it was part of the culture, if that's the right term for it.

"No clue?" said Mark Watson?" He was looking her straight in the eyes as she lay beside him naked and sweaty and satisfied.

"No, he's clueless, and I want to keep it that way," said Veronica. "I love the guy, but he would probably not be real happy with our little secret."

"No, I would not suppose so. And you can add to that, that I don't want to risk losing him as a rep either. Do you know that he's slated to receive an award at the annual Christmas bash next month? That comes from the big boss upstairs. Your little man has been noticed. He's outsold any three other guys on the payroll, and I mean by a lot. No, he must not become privy to the fact that he's a cuckold. That would not be good," said Mark. She nodded and took on a pensive look.

"Are you going to offer him the promotion you promised me?" she said.

"Assistant VP?" He scowled. Yes, I guess so, that along with the award he's going to be getting. But, that one, the promotion, he owes to you," he said. She giggled. "Look, Veronica, I'm doing this because of you; but if he fucks up…"

"He won't. He's gonna be the best. You know it and I know it," she said. "He may be a mediocrity in bed, but he's a barnburner out there in the workaday world."

"Hmm, you may know it. But, I'm only at the hoping stage right now. Grimes will be all over my ass if he doesn't perform. The assistant VPship is a whole different gig than selling merchandise, a whole different gig, believe it!" he said.

"He'll perform; I know he will," she said, again.

"He has to, his base salary will increase by half, and he'll be getting a share of all of his team's bonuses; I mean if he can motivate them to perform at the required level. Actually, there'd be no real limit to what he could make in the new position," said Mark, "if he performs!"

"All that money, and all because I have the twat you want and need so badly, as you say," said Veronica. She laughed outright now. He ignored her laughter.

"Well, I look at it this way. He gets rewarded for the good job he does, and you get rewarded for the good job you do. Which, by the way, I would more than like to see you demonstrate like say-now," he said.

She rolled on top of him and kissed him passionately on his lips, his eyes, his ears, his forehead. She slid down his torso and paused gazing down at the oversized cock. "Nice one," she said. Taking hold of it, she engulfed the glans with her mouth and slowly sucked him to rock hardness once more. She felt him stiffen but short-shanked his orgasm by squeezing hard on the base of his shaft.

Sliding up his body, she sat on him, impaling herself and waiting for him to begin bucking and screwing her. He immediately accommodated her. Some few minutes of riding him brought forth a scream from the depths of her as she endured a shattering climax.

"Jesus! that was good," she said, falling off of him and landing once again on her back.

"If only Bennie could do that to me," she said.

"I'm just glad that he can't," said Mark. "If he could, you might not be here." She smiled indulgently at him.

"So long as you keep your promises, you can have me almost anytime you want," she said. "Mark, I may be a cheating whore, but I care about my man; and I aim to see him get what he is worth."

"No problem on this end," he said. "I'm just glad you married a winner, and I just hope he stays a winner. If he wasn't any good, you'd still be able to, shall we say, help him-probably. I mean with your pussy; but maybe not quite as much." Now he was laughing.

She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand hard. "I am so proud of you," said Veronica.

"Thanks, honey, it means a lot. I think that there might be an extra bonus check in our stocking this Christmas," said Benny. "I've heard rumors."

"Well, you deserve one regardless," she said.

"And now, ladies and gentleman, put your hands together for our well-loved CEO mister James Grimes," said Mark Watson. The room filled with applause as the man approached the lectern.

"Ladies and gentleman, first I want to say merry Christmas to all of you here," said the CEO. "Together, all of us have contributed to a very fine year at Mercury. A good year was, I must say, expected. With the team we have, oh yes, expected is the word. Still, expected or not there were some surprises. One such surprise, and frankly a very nice one, came in the person of one of you.

"He is a young man, very young, but has made believers of all of us. Benjamin Horton will you please come up here on the dais," said Mister Grimes. I was surprised, and I am sure my face showed it. Veronica was in danger of hurting herself she was clapping so hard. I made my way up to the stage.

"Son, I want to congratulate you on being the number one sales rep for this firm this past year. And, in recognition thereof, I wish to present you with this token of our appreciation for all of your hard work." He handed me a plaque.

I didn't know what to say, but I shook his hand, thanked him, and slowly made my way back to our table. The applause was something else. My progress back to our table was slow because I was stopped continually to accept congrats from my peers.

"Congratulations, honey," said Veronica, as I was finally able to make my way back. I took my seat. My surprise had been total, but I was able to collect my wits before I actually began stuttering.

"Thanks, babe. I know I couldn't have done it without you," I said. She gave me a funny look that almost caused me to ask if there was something wrong. But, I didn't. This was my night to shine.

A few more, all executives, received accolades and plaques similar to the one I'd been given. Then came the Christmas bonuses delivered by the division chiefs, mine by my boss Mark K. Watson. It was for five thousand dollars. Our trip to Cancun was on, I thought to myself. It was a surprise that I had planned on springing on my wife after I found out what the bonus was going to be. I was feeling good.

Awards awarded, bonuses passed out, the drinking and the dancing and the hurrahing underway: our table had a visitor.

"So, Benny, I'd ask you what you are feeling, but I already know," said Mark.

"For sure, boss. It has been a wonderful night," I said. Just then Veronica returned to the table having spent some little time in the john powdering her nose.

"Hi Mar-mister Watson," she said, as she came up," I looked at her, and for a moment I thought that I saw something in her look that could have been interpreted as-what-guilt? But, she gathered herself and clutched my arm possessively. "Isn't he wonderful?"

"He is and he's also a very lucky man," said Mark.

I looked over at my smiling wife and smiled back at her. "I am. I'm the luckiest guy in this place," I said. He smiled.

"Ben, may I steal you away from your far better half for a moment?" he said. I looked him askance and nodded in the affirmative.

"I'll go visit with missus Watson," said Veronica rising to go.

"Okay, hon," I said.

"I won't keep him long," said Mark. We watched her sashay off and across the room where the big wigs were all clustered around four tables at the back. I was only twenty-seven, and with Mercury for not quite three years; and men with a whole lot of seniority kept passing my table congratulating me. It had to have been the second highest point of my life; the highest having been the day I heard Veronica Parker say I do.

He took a seat across from me. "Ben, I'm here to offer you an opportunity. As good as you are you are still only one man. And, you are a very young man for the kind of thing I'm about to offer you. That said, you have more than proven yourself on the field of battle, to coin a phrase.

"Ben, I need you to train and direct other reps to maximize their production-well-like you have," he said. He paused and watched me. I think I'd temporarily lost my ability to speak.

"Huh?" I said. "Train other reps?"

"I'm offering you the job of assistant VP in charge of training, Ben. There'd be some travel, but not an excessive amount. The pay and benefit package would be markedly better than what you currently enjoy," he said.

"Assistant VP," I squeaked. He started to laugh.

"Indeed. And you've earned it, Ben. I know you know that." His tone was sincerity in its purest sense.

"Where do I sign," I said, coming out of my intellectual coma. "Mister Watson…"

"Mark to you, Ben. You're management now. I know you'll do a good job. You'll be working with Rob Underwood, senior VP for training and recruitment. The very man who hired you, as I recall," said Mark

"Yes, yes, I know mister Underwood," I said.

"Okay, then. Take next week and clear the decks with your key customers. A week from now report to mister Underwood's office and make us a lot of money," he said. He stuck out his hand and we shook. I was feeling real good.

This night was a high water mark and nothing was going to ruin it. The congratulations sex was not good; it was phenomenal. Nobody had a right to be this happy. It would be a full thirteen more years before my world turned to shit

"Was he happy?" he said. He had swiveled his chair back around and hung up the phone as she'd come in.

"Happier than pig in stuff," she said. "I am so glad you were able to do that for him. He'll be on cloud nine for a few more days, but he'll be into the job real soon. You won't be sorry, Mark," said Veronica.

"Actually, I'm not really worried. Frankly we don't have anybody near as capable as he is regardless of experience or seniority, and the position is open and needing to be filled right away. After a few perfunctory questions from the big boss, I got the go ahead to promote him, so we're clear. He will be watched early on to see how he performs, but, like I say, I'm not worried; he'll do fine," said Mark.

"When are you sending him off?" she said.

"I'm not, but Underwood is taking him with him on a recruiting tour the week after next. He'll be gone eight days according to the schedule," he said. She smiled.

"Good," she said. She came to him. "I think it's time that I took a little dick-tation, don't you?"

"Actually, miss Horton, that's just what I had in mind," he said.

"So, what are you thinking?" said Robert Underwood.

"I'm thinking that this is my niche. I love it," I said. "I mean training other reps."

"Well, good," said the man. "I have every confidence in you, Ben. The learning curve can be a little steep for some folks, but you seem able to handle yourself pretty well even with the pressure. Now that the company's gone nationwide, you're gonna be one very busy fella.

"You need to hire yourself a secretary. I could have had one in place for you, but I figured you'd want to find your own assistant. That's always been the way most executives-junior or senior-have preferred to do it. Of course if you'd rather that I…"

"No, no, I'll handle my own situation per this one," I said.

"Right. I figured that would be the case," said Robert.

I did hire an assistant, Mercedes Detofoli. Mercedes was single and thirty-two and nice looking. As it would turn out, she would be with me for the duration.

The years rolled by, my boss became senior vice president in charge of operations, and I took over his job thirteen years out. I was forty and almost rich and had the most beautiful woman alive for a wife.

"I guess we're going to be getting in early?" I said, mostly to myself. We'd been on the road for four days. We'd been scheduled for six, but we'd gotten it done and the customers were happy and so was I.

"Boss?" said Mercedes.

"Hmm?" I said.

"Should I call Max Hardesty at Nutronics and set up that appointment, or do we wait for the other bids?" she said.

"Nutronics wants to wait and see what all the bids come down to. We're in the fight, but we have to be cautious with this one. Could be one of our biggest accounts if we play our cards right," I said. She nodded her understanding.

The plane touched down at exactly 11:00AM. I knew my wife would be at work, so I decided to surprise her and take her out to lunch. I was excited.

"Hi Carol," I said to the receptionist, "Veronica in?"

"Yes, sir, I think so. I just got in from an errand; I'm not sure. "But you can just go back if you like." Those fatal words were about to ruin my life. I headed back to where my wife's office was. I went right in without knocking-big mistake.

What I saw stopped me cold, her too, him too. She was bent over her desk with my boss buried deep in her pussy. When the door'd closed behind me, their heads had uniformly snapped around. I stared.

"Oh my God!" said my wife. Her skirt had fallen back into place as she straightened up, but her panties were still pooled on the floor. I looked at them, the panties, and then up at her, then him.

"Sweet fucking Jesus," said my boss. I said nothing. I just continued to stare.

"Benny-oh what you must think. Oh my, what you must think! Please… " she started. I could feel the tears welling up and about to burst forth. My stomach was awash in acid and threatening to erupt. I actually felt faint, but I held it together-barely. Forty years old and my world was imploding.

"Ronnie-I… " I turned and slowly left, closing the door gently behind me. I heard nothing from them as I walked down the lengthy hall. Passing Carol, I smiled; I don't know why. My world was indeed imploding, and my heart was a smoking ruin. Reasons for striving, reasons for doing, reasons even for living were no longer there for me. Yet, I knew that somehow I'd be doing my best to survive.

Married near fifteen years, no children, no large debts: the divorce would be pretty much painless on the economic side of things. The big problem for me at the moment was what to do at the moment; that, and the absolute emotional destruction of my soul. I knew for a flat fact that I was not going to be able to recover from this; I just wasn't, not completely. I did have a question or two that I hoped I would be able to get the answers to from her, but as for that, I wasn't even sure I could emotionally take the risk of trying to talk to her. I did, however, decide to go home and wait for her. What might happen after that; well, I had not a clue-none.

I was on my fourth round of Tennessee sour mash when I heard the car door slam in the driveway outside the kitchen window.

She strode inside, through the back door and through the service porch. She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen.

Her brow was wrinkled into what seemed a sympathetic and, I assume, concerned expression. She stared at me for a long moment. "Benny-I-I am so sorry. I am so very-very sorry. Please, can we talk, you and I? We really need to talk. It wasn't as bad as it looked. Really. What am I saying, of course it was as bad as it looked. But-I guess what I'm trying to say is that it doesn't have to end us-it doesn't have to hurt us-end us. Jesus! I hope you're not thinking that it has to end us," she said.

"How long?" I said. She sighed, came into the kitchen proper, and sat opposite of me at the table.

"Does it really matter?" she said. I raised an eyebrow at that.

"Yes it does. Please tell me," I said.

"Almost since the beginning," she said. "Well, since I started working for Mercury. He hit on me regularly for months in the beginning. Then, one day, I don't know why; I gave in. It's been going on ever since." I sat transfixed.

"Thirteen years! Thirteen fucking years! Boy, you sure had this clueless fool-well-fooled," I said. "I must be the laughing stock of the entire company. How could I not be?"

"Benny, I did it for you, for us," she said. "And no one is laughing at you. No one, believe me."

"You're kidding right?" I said. "For us, you did it for us? That I do want to hear about. Is he the only one, Ronnie? Is he the only one? Just Watson? Or, were there others?" She looked away.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck," I said. "How the fuck many, Veronica? How the fuck many?"

"A few. Not that many, just few customers. You'd come home worried about this or that customer, and well, on a few occasions I-well-I made them an…"

"An offer that would have been damn near impossible to refuse. That about it, Ron? That about it? Hell, I can relate. That's about what happened to me when I just had to ask you to marry me. A girl totally out of my league. I knew it. Oh, I knew it. No doubt about that. But, I just had to try for the impossible dream, for the brass ring-pussy. I just had to take my shot. Lucky me, right. I got what I most wanted in the whole world. And now I find it was all just a big fat lie. Fuck!"

"Benny, would you allow me a moment to explain a couple of things? Would you? Please?" she said. Her tone-it was her tone-it was condescending. I knew that tone. I''d heard it a lot in eons gone by. People treating me with contempt because they knew I was a social cipher. And now my wife-shades of an overheard conversation at the Badger Sett so many years gone now.

"You hold me in contempt don't you, Veronica. I guess you always have. I'll make a deal with you. Okay?" I said. She knew she had a weak hand; she nodded.

"Okay," she said.

"You can tell me whatever you want, but you have to answer me one thing first?" I said. "You agreed to marry me and to forsake all others. You knew what you were getting when you made that little agreement: short guy, no great shakes in the love making department, no outsized physical equipment, damn near a total zero when it came to socializing. So, why did you settle for me? You could have had any guy you cast your approving glance upon. Why Veronica, if you held me so in contempt, as you obviously do?" I said.

She sighed. She looked nervous. I had to wonder at that. "First off, Benny, I do not hold you in contempt. And you have no reason to think that. That said, yes, I agreed to marry you. Yes, I promised to forsake all others; and at the time I meant it. But, after I went to work for Mercury, things began to happen. By that I mean that opportunities arose that were too good to pass up.

I married you because I knew that you were going to be the success story of our generation. Yes, your short, yes your dick is marginal at best, and yes your social skills needed a definite upgrade. The short thing was no problem for me; the brain was Paul Bunyanesque. Your dick I couldn't do anything about, but I could live with it because I would make it a point to train you how to do me with your mouth and tongue; and I did train you, my man, and you did learn. Actually, Benny, you're as good as there is at that whether you know it or not. As for your social skills, again I was able to dress you, train you, control you so as to make you more than acceptable there too. So, to answer your question more directly: I married you because you were going to be somebody, and you are, and where you were lacking I knew I could mostly be of help.

"Okay, Ben, I answered your question, so please hear me out."

"I cheated, as I was about to say earlier, because of some opportunities that were too good to pass up. You had one Achilles heel, Benny: you were too damn young to be an executive. My problem, I guess you could say, is that I'm the impatient type, and I wasn't willing to wait for you to get what you deserved. So, I did something about it. It was only about sex Ben, sex as a tool, to-well-to help you get a head start; you know to jump ahead. And, it worked, and hurt nobody. Well, until you found out today, and really not even now the way I see it," she said.

"Yeah, well it did hurt, Veronica. It hurts me a lot, an awful lot. I got ahead all right, but not on my own merits. I got ahead because you were willing to spread for Watson and those other men and to humiliate me. They're laughing at me, Veronica. They're laughing at me and at you; you just don't get it. You're not just a whore, Ronnie; You're a prostitute: a play for pay cunt and nothing more," I said.

"No, I'm not, Ben, not in any real sense. But even if I am, so what. What are they, the men-johns? Men so meaningless that as men they have to pay for it? Benny, think about it, really. What forty-five year old rep or company executive was going to want to listen to a twenty-something newbie-a rookie. Oh you were executive material, right enough, everybody knew that-especially Mark Watson, and I assure you that I'm not lying about that. He is scared pissless that you're going to quit now because of-well-because of what you saw today. But, he was not about to promote you till well…

"Anyway, I cheated to get you promoted before your time.

"Early on, after I started fucking him, Mark actually told me I was nuts if I thought you could handle being an executive with virtually nada experience. So, I made it my business, my mission if you will, to convince him that you could handle it.

"And yes, I dressed sexy, made him want me, made him actually need me. And yes I let him screw me-a lot. I let him screw me but with the codicil that you'd get the next big promotion that came along. You essentially jumped ten years of required seniority and experience because my pussy was in the pot, buster. My pussy, Benny, but not my heart. You've had that right along and you always will. I do love you and only you.

"Anyway, I guess I've said what I needed to say. I just hope you can see your way clear to not dump me. And, to keep your job. You've earned it even if I did have to spread for him to get it for you initially," she said.

"Spread for 'them'," I said, "and who exactly are the 'them'? I mean besides Watson, those other guys?" Again, she looked away. She stood and paced for a moment.

"Which customers, Veronica? Which ones? I want to know who the them are!" I said.

Carl Wilcox, Ford Steelman, and Randy Gates," She said.

"Jesus! three out of four of our biggest clients. Tell me truly, please. Did they laugh at me while you were with them? Tell me Veronica!" She looked away yet again; that told me all I needed to know.

"So you bought me my success, my promotion, my outlandish and undeserved promotion. How do you think I feel about that Veronica. How did you think I would feel when I found out; and I would have found out even without catching you today, sooner or later I would have. It was inevitable. One them would eventually have bragged, probably already has, so I would have found out. How do you think I was going to feel about that!" I said.

"I'm not a fool, Benny. I figured they'd do that shit, the bragging I mean. I taped our sessions. The ones with the customers. I got it all in case they doublecrossed us," she said. I stood looking at her with my mouth hanging open.

"Sweet fucking Jesus! And, you expect me to accept all of this and just go on without breaking stride," I said.

"It's not the first time a man's woman gave him a hand up. I just hope you're strong enough to accept what has happened and look past it, Take advantage of it. I mean look to the future, Ben. My playing hasn't hurt us. You know that's true if you think about it. Maybe dented your ego a little. But, the paychecks are rolling in, and nobody has reason to be dissatisfied. And, I'll say it again, especially Mark Watson! I…"

"Hasn't hurt us? You know they are still laughing at me, don't you? All of them," I said.

"So what if they are! I am most certainly not laughing at you," she said.

"Right!" I said.

"Goddamn it! I'm not, Ben." She took on a pensive look. "Ben, what are you going to do?" she said. I looked at her; I discovered that I was tapping the table with my fingers. I felt-what-impatient, at my wits end, something.

"Do? Well, I haven't really had a chance to think it out… " I started.

"Ben, do not over think this. It is what it is, and it will stop: my playing that is. Actually, in a way, you're going to kinda be in the driver's seat now. Mark is going to be bending over backwards to make you happy, make it up to you; I can guarantee that," she said.

"Mark bending over for me? Now there's an image that appeals to me. But forget him for a moment. All of those customers are married aren't they?" I said. I knew that they were, and Watson too. I wanted her to realize that I had a whole lot of options besides waiting for Mark 'fuckwad' Watson to do me some favors. Her look told me I'd scored.

"Ben! You're not thinking of revenge are you? Tell me you're not thinking of getting revenge on these men. Yes, the men who made you a cuckold. They did that, but they also made damn sure that you were otherwise way compensated for your unknowing sacrifice. Please tell me you're not going to do something stupid?" she said. She slid forward in her seat leaning into me from across the table. I stood and took her place as the family pacer. I stopped and tendered her a meaningful stare.

"Frankly, I'm not sure what I'm going to be doing. Listening to this tripe, and I do mean your reasoning, I'm about ready to quit my job, sue every blessed one of the cheaters, divorce you on grounds of serial adultery, and go to church," I said.

"What? Quit? Divorce me? Go to church? What are you talking about!" I could see she was on the verge of tears.

"Yes, all of the above. And why church? Because, I want to thank God almighty that we don't have any children. Under the circumstances that would not have been a good thing," I said. And, I said it about as coldly as I'd ever said anything.

"No Ben. Please no!" she said. She was crying now, and it was maybe but a dime short of all out sobbing.

"Like I said, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. But, I do have one small favor to ask of you," I said.

Her head snapped up. "Okay," she said, in a voice that literally begged for mercy.

"I want you to call my boss-Grimes-not Watson, and tell him I won't be in for the rest of the week. Tell him I'm not feeling well. And trust me, Veronica, that will not be a lie," I said.

"Yes, yes, I can do that. I will do that," she said. I nodded, turned without another word and headed upstairs. I needed to lie down.

It was out of habit I guess. I got up the morning after the big to do, the big happening, and followed my regular routine. And yes, Veronica and I slept in the same bed. She didn't make any move to get intimate with me. She must have realized that that was a non-happening. Too, she did have the good grace to not be awake when I arose, or maybe she was faking it, but whatever; it worked for me.

Likewise it was part of my routine to go to work, and so I did. I got a few nervous glances from a couple on the support staff, the secretaries. I wondered about that. I figured that they probably knew and had known for a long time. But, how they knew or got their intelligence even the angels were likely unable to say. One thing for sure, the grapevine was a helluva lot faster than the pony express-or the internet.

I spent the whole day doing regular things, and making my usual plans. Mercedes seemed tense, but said nothing. I appreciated that. It was late in the day before I got the request, not an order, from Mark Watson to come see him. I debated shining him on.

Okay, why wasn't I up in arms and ready to sue and be countersued, to fight the good fight, to ruin as many of the assholes as I could. It was a couple of things that Veronica had said.

One, a woman helping her man make it to the top had always been standard operating procedure in the big leagues of politics and business; and, was I not in the big leagues? Two, could I replace the kind of income I was getting now if I were to start over? Doubtful. Oh, and three, it'd gone on for thirteen years and I had never had a bad thought until now. The fact was, I'd been happy as a lark. Of course I did know what had been going on now, and it hurt. And, not just my pride, as Veronica assumed. It had crushed my very soul. I needed my woman to love me and only me. I was not a sharing kind of guy, nor likely to ever become one.

"Thanks for coming in, Ben, I have to say that I figured the odds were against it, actually. But, anyway, thanks," said Mark. I nodded. I was not smiling. Why had I answered his summons? I was curious; that was it, just curiosity.

"I'm sorry, okay. Inadequate, self-serving, but-that said-sincere. I'm a bum. I admit it. I'm weak-and-I'm well, sorry," he said.

"And, that is going to change what?' I said. I just shut up and waited for him to say something that would mean anything too me at all. He sagged back.

"It'll stop with her. That's the first thing of course. Beyond that it's kinda up to you. I want you to stay. I need you to stay. You leaving would impact me adversely, and yes, I know that's about as selfish sounding as anything I've ever said. And, long term, if you stay, you will benefit enormously for your forbearance," he said. He leaned back in his seat looking real concerned. I nodded.

"Hmm. Okay, I'm staying. That is, I'm staying so long as she doesn't continue with her-activities. One slip, and I am outta here muy pronto, and that with prejudice," I said. We talked a little longer, but a lot of words that maybe might have been said weren't; there was just not a good enough feeling between me and the man who'd made me his cuckold to continue with the euphemistical nonsense.

She was waiting for me when I got home. When I say waiting for me, I mean, apparently, on pins and needles. "Well?" she said. "You went to work? Are we…"

"Still together? Am I still employed? How do I feel now, a day later?" She nodded, and I think she was holding her breath. It occurred to me to ask her about that.

"Yes," she said.

"Veronica, seeing you here, apparently anxiously awaiting my return, forces me to ask you why? I mean if you care so much for me, enough to worry whether or not I would come back, or keep my job, or any of it: why did you risk it? I'd really like to know. I just can't make myself believe that you did it to get me a promotion."

"The fact is, unbelievable as it may seem to you, I swear to you that that was in fact the reason. Well, it was at the time. Later-well-it was about cocks. And, like I told you before, a few times when you came home all frazzled and worried about whether or not you were going to get this client or that to sign, well, I took it upon myself to see to it that you did. They, the clients were kind of an extrapolation of the promotion thing. I mean it was, initially at least, to see to it that you did good. You know, got the bonus or the perks or whatever."

"Cocks? What does that mean? You mean you did other guys? How many for cryinoutloud!" I said. "I mean, wasn't my cock worth anything to you? Didn't I ever satisfy you, Veronica?"

"Your cock, Ben is oaky, but it is smallish. You know that. I knew that. And in the beginning I had resigned myself to making do with it. But then-later…"

"How many besides the four assholes, Veronica! How many?" I said.

"No Ben, no, no, there were no others. Just the ones I mentioned to you. No one else. I couldn't risk you finding out, so I limited myself to the few I told you about," she said.

"But? There's a but in there isn't there?" I said. She looked away.

"What?" I said.

"It was only the few, but it was pretty regular. I mean we've been doing it, the few and me since-well-since a long time," she said.

"But, Ben, it's over now. No more. No matter what, no more," she said. I stared at her. I was fuming. I had imagined that it had only been Watson long term, and the other guys once or twice each. But no, it was four major affairs: three with the clients, and the one with my boss. Fucking wonderful. One had to allow that at the least she was organized and imaginative in her thinking.

I'd been standing, now I sat. My legs would no longer support the weight of the world on my shoulders. "Fuck!" I said.

"Ben, I told you all this just now, because I figured you'd find out anyway, and I wanted to be the one to break it to you, not have you find out from someone who might want to hurt us," she said.

"Hurt us! Are you shittin' me! You hurt us, and the rest of them. You've shattered me, Veronica. Do you have any…"

"Ben, please, I beg of you. Please. Please don't," she said. "Don't say anymore. I need you to not say anymore. And yes hurt us-there's one of them…"

"One of them who-I mean what are you talking about!" I said. I wasn't crying, yet. And the tears when they would come would not be tears of loss; they would be tears of frustration. I was trying, trying like hell, but I just couldn't seem to get out from under all of it. It was all kind of like the energizer bunny, but in this case it was the bad stuff that just wouldn't stop coming at me! Jesus! I was truly beginning to hate my life.

"Fuck it, Veronica, I'm goin out. I gotta get outta here." I headed for the front door; it was where I'd dropped my coat.

"Ben please we need to talk… " But I was outta there.

The Red Barron was a slightly upscale bistro in the heart of town. I'd been coming in for some long time now, and the bartender and me had been friends for a while. The bar portion was divided from the dining room by a row of real plants in massive planters. Separating, thereby, the families who came in to dine on the excellent cuisine from guys like me trying to drown their sorrows.

"Another one, Ben?" said Clark. His name was Clark Gable, believe it or not; and no, he'd never been an actor, and he'd never been related to one. But his folks' name was Gable and his grandma had thought it would be good to name him Clark. Well, at least his last name hadn't been Kent.

"Yeah, man. Keep 'em comin'. And, when it looks like I'm about to die, give me one more," I said. He smiled.

"That bad, huh?" he said.

"No, no, I guess not; it was worse for Custer at the Little Big Horn," I said. He laughed.

"Yeah, I guess that's so," he said.

I had to find out who it was that might want to "hurt us," as she'd said. Why I didn't stick around to find out who was a mystery to me. It was obviously one of the clients, but which one? Well, I had time to figure that one out, and, I would figure it out. And, I would use every tool at my disposal to destroy the asshole and damn any collateral damage that resulted from the effort.

But, what to do now. I'd agreed to stick it out when I'd talked to Watson. But, every time I spoke to the woman things seemed to get markedly worse, go figure. Okay, I'd stick it out for a while, see how things went. Was I nervous now that I knew that I was a public laughingstock? Did I care-really. I mean of course I cared, but it was a matter of degree.

One, I'd done nothing wrong. Two, the responsibility for anything ill that happened from here on out rested solely on the shoulders of Watson and the woman, and, the three cheating fuckwad clients of course. My pride was dented real good, no question. My desire to excel-always the driving force in everything I did had all but disappeared. Could I perform at the same high level under the circumstances? Not a chance. Watson's interest in keeping me around would likely be greatly diluted before the scene was completely played out.

"Yes, I'd agreed to stay on at Mercury, but the more I thought about it the less sense it made. Better to find me a nothing job; one that was all but devoid of pressure, and just get along. Leave the big house and the big cars to the woman. Which thought brought up another thought: could I even begin to trust her, I mean if I did stay, given her long time disregard for anything remotely resembling the honoring of her wedding vows. Again, my initial thought to give her one more chance also made virtually no sense. Still, habits were hard to break; that's why they were called habits.

But no, the more I thought about it, the more I knew that I had to not stay. I had to start over. I had to get out. I had to reassess my life's goals. I had to find new friends, and eventually another woman, damn near any woman, who I could trust to not screw me over. And, the time to do it was now. I was about to make a decision.

I threw a twenty down on the bar and headed out. "Clark, I'm gonna roll," I said. As I turned to go, and while heading out, I happened to look to my left into the dining room. My heart, if it had not been broken before, was broken now: I saw them.

"Yes, he told me," she said. "He's going to stick around. Not sure if it's going to be long term or not, but at least for the moment he is planning on staying with the company. With me? That's another matter. He considers me a-what-a traitor, I guess," said Veronica.

"Jesus this could be real bad. The big boss will not be happy. Not at all happy. I mean if he resigns," said Mark.

"Veronica, you have to make him happy. If we can't get it on for a while, well, that's the price we have to pay to keep on keepin' on.

They were seated in a booth and she kept looking furtively around as they spoke. It would not do to have her Benny suddenly appear out of nowhere and see them together. She didn't really think that he would be following her or having her watched, but given the shock of the past two days; she wasn't taking anything for granted. What she hadn't counted on was the incidence of coincidence.

I stared at them for what had to have been a full two minutes. She finally saw me.

"Oh my God no!" she said. Our eyes met. He looked over to where she was looking. He sagged back in his seat. For once I didn't chicken shit out. I walked over to them.

"Hello," I said.

"Ben… " she started. I held up my hand to short shank her.

"No, no, it's all right. But, I will not be staying with Mercury after all." I said. "Seeing you two all lovey dovey here did it for me. You can have each other forever now.

"Veronica, please do me the decency of not coming home for a little bit. I need to get some of my stuff out. I just couldn't deal with you being there. Okay? You owe me that much at least," I said. "Goodbye, both of you." I turned and walked out. Neither of them did anything to stop me. I guess they were speechless.

Well, they were speechless at the bistro; she actually beat me home: I was driving slow. I was startled when, coming into the living room, she nailed me with a hug and a kiss, as I turned from hanging up my coat.

"What the… " I started. "Forget it, Veronica, we're done. You may want me around for some reason, but whatever it might be; it doesn't include what I need from you. So goodbye."

"Please, Ben, give me a chance here," she said. "What you saw was me saying goodbye to Watson."

"I don't believe you. It's that simple. Please at the very least make this a little bit easier than you have so far. Okay! Please."

"Ben, I'm sorry. But this time you're the one in the wrong. I was not making plans with Watson. I was just telling him I was glad that you and he were able to mend your fences, at least a little bit. And, that we were through as fuck buddies," she said.

"You know Ronnie, you might be telling the truth, but I just can't bring myself to believe you. So, just leave me alone. I need my clothes and stuff or I won't be able to make a living," I said.

"You gonna stay with Mercury?" she said.

"Not a chance. Being your cuckold, when I didn't know anything, was bad enough; but being a knowing one isn't happening," I said. Now, please get out of my way. I have things to do that do not include you." I stalked off and up the stairs. I wondered how long it would be before she was entertaining up there.

It took me some little time to pack. I could only handle two suitcases easily, so I would be leaving a mess of stuff behind, but it couldn't be helped; I would never be returning. I'd finally grown some balls.

Dale Hirsch was a good lawyer. He'd been recommended by my new employer, Max Hardesty of Nutronics. No alimony, no touching my retirement, no paying for her costs in the divorce. She got the house, but I didn't want that, and then it was done. In six months it would be all over. The great adventure, begun so long ago at a senior prom, was ending. It was sad. I was sad. I had to hope the gods had something a little more upbeat for me in the future; I'd already had a guided tour of hell.

I was still the same guy, and presumably the same guy with the same skills. But, that said, the motivation wasn't there. I appeared to be working hard, I guess. I still collected a bonus check now and again; but I was no longer the staple I'd been before finding out I was a cuckold and that my one true love didn't love me.

I'd managed to get myself a fairly nice condo and that near the office. I listened to my music every night, like I always had, but now there was no Ronnie to interrupt me: missed that. My new position was kinda peculiar in one respect. I'd been the one to get Nutronics to go with Mercury. And, while I did my level best to avoid meetings that had anything to do with my old company, I'd still see one or another of the Mercury agents from time to time as they came to service the account. It might have been my imagination, but it always seemed to me that they uniformly gave me sympathetic looks.

It was some few months after leaving Mercury that a Mercury rep, Hal Marquardt, visited us. He'd just left the boss' office. I got a call to come in. My digs were just down the hall from Max's, so it was an easy thing for Helen, Max's assistant, to grab me.

Benny, I know you're busy. This won't take long. Mercury has invited us-all of us-to a big bash they're throwing on Labor Day weekend. I've accepted the invitation. I know your situation of course, and I won't make a big deal of you going, but I would appreciate it if you would," he said. I sighed.

"It's okay. I can always leave, I guess, if things get a little to-something-for me. Would that be okay?" I said.

"Sure bet," he said. "You know, I don't think you want to be in the position of them thinking that they have you intimidated. I mean, I expect that your soon to be ex will be there. You showing up will let the lot of them know that you're fine and getting on well."

"Yeah, you know that would be a good thing wouldn't it. Yeah, I'm going," I said.

The La Fiesta Hotel had it all, a genuine five star. The food was great, though I didn't eat all that much: I was on mission to get myself into a smaller belt size; ten more pounds and I'd be at my ideal weight.

The place had been well lighted during dinner, but as dinner waned the lights, almost unnoticed, gradually dimmed to create romantic shadows; the effect was truly-well-romantic. It was then that she chose to hit me up.

"Hello, Benny. How are things?" she said. She startled me. Truth is I hadn't seen her until that moment, and the party was a least two hours old. I nodded in response to her question and made to wander off. But, she was having none of it. She actually grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back. I spilled a little of the martini I was holding on my pant leg and shot her an irritated glance.

"Jesus, Veronica, what else do you have planned for me tonight!" I said.

"Sorry about the drink, Ben. It was an accident. Really," she said. "I just wanted to talk to you for a little if that would be all right."

"And why would you want to do that. We're divorced. I know for a flat fact that you have other-interests," I said. I was not being kind.

"We're not divorced yet, Ben, and in fact that's what I wanted to talk to you about," she said. "And, about any other-interests-that you may have heard about. Trust me, they are likely either untrue or grossly exaggerated whether you believe it or not."

"Trust you? Right! Another month and we'll be added to the failed marriage statistic, Ronnie, and frankly it's for the best. I can't deal with your idea of-helping me-and that's the long and the short of it. You're a cheater, Veronica, and I need me a faithful and honest woman; not a serial back stabber," I said.

"Ben, that's uncalled for. Yes, I spread for a few men to help us-not just you but us-and so what. It didn't hurt us an iota. And, yes, I know it's different now that you know. Jesus I wish you didn't!" she said.

"Listen to yourself, Ronnie. You're sorry I know about it, but not an iota of regret for having done it to me-and I do mean to say 'to me' not 'for me'," I said.

"Benedict Horton, the one thing that is true is that I did do it for you and me. There was never-and I mean never-any intent to disparage you or hurt you or cause you any embarrassment whatsoever. You may have noticed that it went on for years with no problems, and now that you know, your ego is bruised and you are taking it out on the both of us.

"Frankly, Benedict, you're an idiot. I know you still love me. Hell you're as pussywhipped as you ever were; I see how the bulge in your pants has grown since we've been talking here. You've always been in my pocket, Benny. I know it and you know I know it… " she said.

"Yeah, you are a turn on, no doubt about it. And, I used to be a total wimp when it came to you. Pussywhipped? Yeah, maybe that too. But I will not share you with those assholes and that's the long and the short of it, Veronica-soon-to-be-ex-Horton.

"Look Ben, truth here, okay?" I nodded.

"One, I do not want this divorce. You are so far ahead of who's ever in second place on my list of men, that it's not even funny. That said… " she stopped and looked at me. I knew she was gauging my potential reaction to what she was about to lay on me.

"What?" I said, spreading my hands in a get on with it gesture.

"Ben, I've always been a cock hungry slut. I admit it. I love the male organ. I need it. No individual could possible satisfy a woman like me sexually. Yes, I know there is not supposed to be any such thing as nymphomania, but the idiots that say that are fucking crazy.

"Ben I need sex and I need it a lot. Because of you, our marriage, I have kept my circle of men small and discreet. That mainly to keep you from ever finding out. But, now that you know. I need to make my pitch," she said.

"Pitch?"

"Yes, my pitch. Ben, quash the divorce. And, I know this will be hard for you initially, let me keep my very discreet sex games on the side. And, I swear that you will be the happiest husband that has ever lived. I will make damn sure of that. And, no one, and I mean no one, will ever talk smack about you again without having to deal with one very pissed off broad. And again, yes, I will use my sex to get us even farther ahead than we already are-that of course very discreetly.

"What the fuck! I said.

"Ben, it's time to be pragmatic, not stuffy and puritanical. We can make this work for us. Please, give it some thought.

I was stupefied. My mouth was hanging open. I was totally wordless. She touched my cheek, very gently, turned, and walked off.

Veronica's last words to me had got me to thinking. About what? Same as it had been since we were kids: how much I needed her, desperately needed her.

I had been treading water since filing for divorce, which was still not final. Seeing her, no, coming to the party had been a big mistake. The woman I adored wanted to use me, not love me. At least not love me enough to be a real one man woman wife. I knew as long as I was around her, even the limited amount that I figured to be around her working as I was for Nutronics, I was always going to be in a state of nervous tension.

I hadn't been kidding myself; I'd been thinking about her, fantasizing about her for twenty-five years and more. A divorce was not going to exorcise those feelings, not even. I had to get away,

For the moment I retreated to the table I'd stationed myself at near the rear of the hall. My table mates were elsewhere at that moment; I had time to reflect.

I saw her every once in a while looking in my direction. Twice I held her glance with my own for some seconds. She'd smiled each time; I did not smile either time. I was sick to my stomach, literally sick to my stomach. I'd feared this moment in time; I'd feared it, and now it was here. A broken heart sometimes takes time to take its ultimate toll on the mind and soul of a person. Well, the wait was over for me: the horrendous pain of knowing my woman would be with others, would be fucking them, loving them was here and real and-overwhelming. The tears started to come. I got up, found Max and made my apologies and headed out; I don't know if she saw me or not, but perversely; I hoped she had. I wanted her to know my hurt; I really wanted her to know my hurt.

One thing she didn't know, but it was likely the last time she would ever be seeing me, at least that was the plan that was forming in my head. I had to get away from her. I had to; the mental torture, anguish, was terrible. I knew it now; leaving was the only cure for my pain within my power to do anything about.

It had been traumatic telling Max I was quitting; he'd been more than good to me. He understood. I just couldn't kid myself anymore. I had to get away, and start over. Just get some nothing job, like I'd originally thought to do when my life ended. Yes, anything, anywhere, but far away.

I'd gotten out of town overnight-literally. I had about $12,000 in my account from all sources. She could keep the rest; money meant nothing to me. Anyway, at least in the short run, I was flush. Helluva thing, almost forty-one years old and starting over. Career-wise I didn't want to be doing the same thing anymore; I was afraid she might track me down: she knew as many people in the business as I did, or almost. I didn't really think she would, but I couldn't take the chance of seeing her again it hurt too damn much. But, I had a solution to all of my problems: I could drink! A lot! And I would! And, as it turned out, I did!

The Mad Hater, and no that is not a misnomer, misspelling, any of it, was my new favorite hangout. It was located two towns over from my old digs, still in the same state, but seventy-five miles removed. Donovan Kilpatrick was the owner and operator.

I'd been spending a lot of time, and a lot of money I might add, in Donovan's-don't call me Don-place. Don't ever let anybody tell you that drink doesn't cure anything; it does. True the cure is uniformly temporary but, while deep under the weather, there are far fewer problems and memories to deal with than at other times. I guess one could say that my life had become a nothingness of lonely days and weepy nights. Was I a hopeless romantic, a victim of unrequited love and of an oversexed cheating whore of a wife, or just a wimpy little man cryin' in his beer? Probably all of the above, was what I was telling myself; but who could really say for sure. The irony was that as often as I had her on my mind, I had her lover mister Mark Watson on it almost as much; go figure.

Some eight months gone from when I'd last seen her, I was nearly broke. Didn't have a job, and was down to my last C-note. Been stayin' with a guy, I met and'd been sharin' the rent with, for the past several: Two bills a month was my share and we each bought our own groceries. It was workin' for me. But, now I was lookin' for a job wonderin' who'd be interested in a business genius who was also the town drunk. Well, you had to know it would be happenin', even the town drunk can get lucky-I guess it was luck.

Donovan was wiping a glass dry and looking down the bar at me. He knew my situation; hell, he was a bartender. I looked him askance as he just kept kinda starin' at me.

Finally, he put the glass in the tray and came down the bar toward me. "How yuh doin' Ben," he said.

"Huh?" I said. His question was actually a serious one, not just the usual cryptic and generally rhetorical means of greeting.

"How yuh doin', really," he said. I leaned back on the bar stool.

"Depends," I said. "Dumped by the wife, out of a job, damn near broke, and pretty much friendless except for you. So, I guess I ain't doin' too hot." He smiled.

"I can relate. Been there myself," he said. "And, you're right about the friend part. We have become kinda friends I guess. I mean you haven't invited me to your mansion for a barbecue yet, and I think I've kinda neglected you in that regard. But…"

"Yeah, the ubiquitous but. But, as for the mansion thing, as soon as I can hire the necessary servants to clean it up after my last party, I'll be having you over," I said, smirking.

"Yeah, and I'll be inviting you over too," he said. "Probably before the servants arrive at your place." Now he was the one smirking.

I sensed he had something to say more than he had so far. "So what's up Donovan? I'm not drunk yet; you can tell me," I said. He snickered.

"Ben, you know the Hater isn't my only business," he said.

"Yeah, I know. You got a laundry and a hot dog stand, right?" I said.

"Hamburgers," he said.

"Yeah-yeah, Burgers. So what then?" I said.

"The burger joint ain't doin' so good," he said.

:Sorry to hear that," I said.

"Yeah, well, I'm here to ask you a little favor. And, in the doing I'm going to do you one," he said.

"Huh?" I said.

"You wanna job?" he said.

"Well, I don't-well, I mean-it kinda depends," I said.

"You need one, I know it. I got one, and you can have it," he said.

"Donovan, what are you talking about?" I said.

"This bar is doing good. The laundry is doing good. But, the burger joint is on its last legs. I can't be everywhere. I need someone to turn it around and start it making money again," he said. I stared at him.

"You mean me?" I said.

"Nobody else but," he said. I looked him up and down. I had to ask.

"Why me," I said. "All I've been to you-here-is a big assed drunk. Why would a successful business man like yourself want a loser like me," I said.

"Benny, and I hope you won't take offense, I had you checked out. Clearly, you are not the average loser. So, I had you checked out. Valedictorian in high school, number one in you class at UW, all everything at your last place of employment, and screwed over by the love of your life. Helluva resume'." He said.

"So you had me checked out. You know about my ex. But, I've told you about that stuff myself," I said. "So again, I ask, why me?"

"Yes, but I needed to know if the hurt was so deep in you that you couldn't ever be what you once were," he said. It occurred to me that I should be upset over someone investigating me, but I wasn't.

"You know Donovan, I should be mad at you for investigating me," I said.

"But, you're not because you know I'm on your side," he said. "Look Ben, you need a job, and I need someone to help bail me out here."

I snickered. "Donovan, I do need a job, almost any kind of job; but I don't know anything about restaurants or cooking or any of that stuff," I said.

Now, he laughed. "No, no," he said. "You won't be cooking; you'll be running things. You know like a business. Look, here's the address of the place. Go have a look see, and tell me what you find. You know, what you think, okay?" I shrugged.

"I guess I can do that," I said. "I do have eyes. "But, I ain't cookin'." He laughed.

"Fair enough," he said.

The Hungry Tiger Burger was actually one town over from where the bar was. It was clear to me that Donovan needed a reliable manager at the very least to ensure efficient operation of the place to maximize profits. At any rate, I went there to observe, and observe I had. What I discovered might best be described as a culture of lethargy. Nobody working there wanted to do anything. Additionally, the place was dirty and did not present an inviting picture overall. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the lack of customers at noontime, which is when I was there, was due primarily to the management of the place not the product nor the location, nor the number of personnel. The place needed to be made over and reorganized, no question about it.

"That bad," he said.

"Probably worse, I didn't get a look at the books or the supply orders or anything else. What I just gave you is what anybody could see who was halfway observant," I said.

"So then how about it?" he said.

"How about what?" I said.

"Running it for me. Two grand a month, and the apartment above the place, utilities except phone included," he said. It wasn't anywhere near what I'd been earning at Mercury or at Nutronics; but I saw it as an easy gig, and it would give me something to do.

"Yes. I can do it. But, I need a free hand. You okay with that?" I said.

"A free hand?" he said.

"I need to be able to hire and fire at will, and to adjust salaries as I see fit-up or down," I said. He nodded, a bit slowly I thought, but he was giving me the okay to do it my way. I returned his nod.

"It's been almost a year," she said looking at the man across the breakfast table from her.

"Yeah, I know. It's time to forget the guy, and for you and me to do something smart and get hitched," he said. "He ain't coming back. We both know it," he said.

"Mark, I just don't know. I guess you're right. But…"

"Ronnie, we love each other. I know you have a soft spot in your heart for the man, but he just isn't-well-your type. He not only never understood you, he never wanted to even try. He just wasn't wired the same way as you and I," he said. She nodded.

"Okay, Mark, set the date. I just wish we weren't getting married under such a cloud of guilt. We did the man awful bad, me more than you. I'd just like to do right by him somehow. I hope he's all right," she said.

"Truth told I feel bad about everything too, and not just for selfish reasons," he said. "I really liked the little guy. There was something about his personality that just made one wanna be around him. Well anyway, it's water under the bridge.

"How about June first."

"What?"

"June first is a Saturday; we could get married on June first," he said.

"Sure, okay," she said. He came to her and kissed her.

"I do love you, Ronnie. And if the opportunity to do anything for the guy ever comes around, I'll-we'll-do what we can," he said.

She gave him a questioning look.

"A job, a good job-something, : he said.

"Okay," she said. "I hope that someday we can. I wonder what he's doing now?"

"He's not in the trade, I know that. I've had the word out for a long time, and, nothing," he said.

"Donovan, you called?" I said.

"Yeah, yeah, glad you could make it. Oh, and before I begin with the news, how is number three doing?" he said.

I had taken the job, and I'd done my best, and more than my best. And, in the process, I'd made an effort to turn my miserable self around, and I had. At any rate, Donovan no longer had a hamburger joint; he had three of them, and all were doing just fine thank you very much. The effort had taken me almost a year, eighteen months since my breakup with my dream woman.

My salary was up too, from the 24K annual that I'd started with, to 75K. Still, only about half of what I'd been making at Mercury and later Nutronics, but at least now my wife-which I didn't have any of-wasn't spreading for other guys to get it for me. I was content.

"I'd had some tragedy quite apart from the disaster of my marriage to Veronica. My mom had died just about six months after I'd taken over the Hungry Tiger. It was yet another low point in my life. And, she, my mom, hadn't been that old, only sixty-one.

"Good. Good," he said. "Now for some more interesting, and maybe good, news."

"News?" I said.

"You know somebody named Barbara Hillings?" He said.

"No-wait. Maybe. The name's familiar somehow, but…"

"Yeah, she said that would be your likely reaction. Well, she's a nice looking gal. Said you stood her up?" He said.

"No, no not true. I didn't stand any girl up and if she says so she's fabricating facts," I said.

"No I'm not, Benny. You said you'd call and you never did," said a voice behind me that startled me to the core. I turned and looked at the source.

"I know you," I said. "But…?"

"A decade gone and more, Benny. And, I never forgot you. Heard you and that girl broke up," she said. "But, let me reintroduce myself-again. I'm Barbara Hillings. You never knew, but I'm an accountant. To be more precise, I'm Donovan Kilpatrick's personal accountant. Anyway…

"I saw your name on the employee list, and just knew it couldn't be a coincidence. So, anyway, here we are," she said.

"Yeah, I guess that's so," I said.

"So, how are you these days?' she said.

"Treading water, since you ask," I said.

"That bad," she said.

"Pretty much. I miss her, but it is what it is; I'm mostly gettin' over her. Anyway, I'm working, paying the rent. Doing my best to stay busy and involved. Actually your boss, our boss, is a good friend. He kinda bailed me out in a bad time. Anyway, I'm getting on. How about you?" I dared to ask.

"Okay. Lookin'," she said. She chanced a glance at Donovan who was doin' his best to not be noticed.

"Lookin?" I said. Now, I looked over at the still only physically present boss.

"Never mind, you wanna get something to eat?" she said. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I could eat," I said.

Bottom line we ate, we drank, we danced, we made plans for a second date. That date was followed by many, all platonic, and time passed and we got on famously. Six months later I made up my mind. It'd been two years since my breakup with Veronica. It was time to make up my mind wasn't it? We were seated at the back in the Little Green Onion. The food'd been good, the wine excellent, a California sherry.

"Barb, you wanna marry me?" I said. My voice was tentative. "I mean I need a woman and you need a man and we should do our best to fill each other's need. I mean isn't that what's we've been doing these past months," I said. She looked at me and sagged back in her seat.

"Do you realize, Benny that we've not even had sex?" she said. I looked down. It was true. I don't know why I hadn't made a move on her. I guess it was shades of my feelings of inadequacy, as brought home to me by my ex.

I smiled, "Honey bunch we can fix that tonight. Before, well, truthfully I was afraid you'd turn me down. Or, I would queer the deal with you by my lack of…"

"The answer, Ben, has to be no. Do you hear yourself, Ben? Your lack of enthusiasm is actually a little bit hurtful. I mean no on your knees begging me to accept your poor self as my protector, provider, lover, soulmate forevermore?" she said. I smiled and started to get down on my knees; her raised hands stopped me in mid-move.

"No," she said. "We've had a good run, Benny. A real good run. But, as a matter of fact tonight I was getting my nerve up to talk to you about this very thing, I mean our relationship."

"Huh? I said. "But, I thought?" I started.

"Ben, actually, I had too. But recently, I mean for a while now, I've been wondering where we've been heading. Well, you and I we like each other, no that's not right, we like each other a lot. But, Ben, not as life partners. We're dinner companions, but, something's missing. I don't know what it is, but whatever it is it's missing. I have the feeling, and I am pretty sure of this, that if we were to marry that we'd fail. I don't want to lose you as a friend; it means too much to me." I sat there stunned. I was stunned, but I was slowly coming to the realization that she was right. She and I were condemned to a lifetime of friendship, but not soul-searing love. I nodded, very slowly, but I nodded.

"Ben, the truth is, and I am pretty sure of this too-that you're still in love with Veronica. It's a ghost that I don't want to contend with," she said. Now, I shook my head…

"Not true. Maybe it was true before I re-met you. And maybe I do still think about her now and again; I'd grant that. But love her still? Not true," I said. My dinner mate smiled and spread her hands in a whatever sign.

"At any rate, Ben, I've met someone who might, just might at this point, well who could be the one. We've had lunch a couple of times, nothing else. But, I think I want to pursue it, the relationship with him. I was going to tell you tonight, but then you did your proposal thing. Well, and kind of forced the issue. Ben, I don't want to hurt you. You've had enough of that in your life. But, the last thing I want to do is let you hurt yourself-or me if it comes to that-by marrying you. And, you would hurt yourself, my good man."

"Jesus! I had no idea, Barb. I mean, you may be right. But, I had no idea that you thought that I still had the porch light on for Veronica," I said.

"You need to think about what I'm telling you, Ben. We women are not always right, but we're right more often than you guys," she said. I snickered. I smiled.

"Barbara Hillings, the one thing you can take to the bank is that I want happiness for you. Who's the guy?" I said.

"His name is Billy, William, Manning: he's an accountant. Our thing, if that's what it is, is still iffy; but there is some reason to think it might go somewhere.

"Ben, I want to thank you for everything. These last months have been good for me, and I hope for you," she said.

"It's been great for me, as I said. And, as I also said, I wish you guys the best," I said.

We talked for some little time and then said our goodbyes. I guess I had reason to think that we'd actually stay in touch in the future, so at least I still had a friend. I thought back to our recent and brief, moderately brief, re-acquaintance. We'd dated a lot over the months, danced some; she really liked the dancing; and I'd gotten better over the time. But, for some reason, we'd never gotten to the doing the dirty stage. I couldn't say for sure about her: maybe she just knew all along that we weren't meant for the long haul and didn't want to ruin a perfectly good friendship for a few sweaty hours of raw sex.

For my part, I guess I was still leery of embarrassing myself with a woman, any woman, knowing as I did what Veronica thought of my skills. Oh, I wasn't totally bereft of needs for damn sure, but I was almost totally bereft of the courage to try and assuage them. Helluva thing for damn sure.

I did have to wonder why Barbara had even bothered to remember me, as she said had been the case. But, whatever the why was; it really didn't matter. I was a lone again, and also again, reduced to my less than satisfactory but seemingly eternal routine. If I could only find me a woman. Wouldn't that be the cat's meow.

She sat down to her toast and jam. She sipped the coffee that she'd brewed and looked pensively out the bay window of her house and appreciated the bright sunlit morning. She'd be heading off to work shortly.

She no longer looked forward to her days on the job. The job her good man of many years gone by had gotten for her.

She still had the same boss. But, mister Watson no longer tried to get into her pants. He'd broken it off with her more than six years gone over some miserable pretext relating to work and professionalism. She knew it was hokum: she'd seen him, not a day later, with his new infinitely too young chickee. The irony in that? She hadn't cared. She'd had a replacement waiting in the wings when it happened: Roger Gilford of years of high school and college fame.

Roger'd shown up at a party for what turned out to be a mutual friend and they'd rekindled the passion of their school days. For a while it seemed like they might make it. But, then the new Roger, the abusive Roger had shown himself. She'd spent a little time in the hospital and she'd preferred charges. He'd gotten a year for that, and a major tongue lashing form his honor. She'd not seen him again.

At any rate, she'd kept her job, one she was good at and just sucked it up. At her now age fifty jobs paying $125K annual didn't grow on trees. And, Watson treated her okay. In fact, if he'd treated her in the beginning the way he was treating her now; she might've still been married to her good guy. But, then again maybe not, she allowed. She'd spread for other guys, and that without remorse-well at the time. Hell, she still got it on with Steelman once in a blue moon. Gates had retired and he and his wife had left the state. Wilcox, the man who had initially threatened her with exposure and Watson too, had died of all damn things: heart attack while he was jogging; some people never seemed to get it right when it came to exercising. Watson had taken care of Wilcox long before however, exposing certain improprieties that could have sent him away for a good long time. So, his threats had never seen the light of day. Anymore, there were still the inevitable though but very occasional one night stands. Well, she did still have needs. She often thought of her man while others were doing her; ironic didn't even begin to cover it. Well, he was better off, and so, she reasoned, was she.

I couldn't believe it. I mean in a freakin' grocery store! Yeah, I know, "to talk to her or not to talk to her: that was the big assed question." Well, it had been ten years, a lot of water under the bridge. And, what could she do to me. Besides, it would be interesting to know where she'd been and what she'd been doing now that we were both a bit older. I left my basket of groceries where they were and headed over to her; her back was to me.

"Hello, Veronica," I said. She'd been leaning over her cart moving things around in it; but, now she suddenly straightened up. She straightened up, but didn't turn around.

"Benny?" she said, her voice was low.

"Yes, it's me. Fancy meeting you here," I said. She still hadn't turned around.

"There's nothing left for us, Ben. Best we just not make anything of this accidental meet up," she said.

"Oh-Okay. Goodbye," I said. I headed back to where my basket was and made to go up to the cash register and pay.

"That'll be $67.12," said the checker. I handed over my debit card and waited while she ran it.

"Benny?" said the voice to my left and slightly behind me. I looked back toward the voice.

"Yeah, it's still me," I said.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, as the checkout girl recaptured my attention and handed me back my card and the receipt,

I pushed my cart with its bagged produce out into the main exit aisle and almost into the person of my ex-wife, who had somehow slipped out ahead of me.

"I'm sorry Ben. That-back there-was rude of me. Of course we'll talk. It's just that…"

"Yeah, I can relate. There's a Winchell's across the street," I said. She nodded.

I sat stirring my coffee, looking down in it for some smidgen of elusive wisdom to assist me in this strangest of all strange coincidences. Or, maybe it wasn't wisdom, that I was seeking, but just an excuse to not be sayin' anything I'd wanna be taking back two minutes later.

"I kinda feel the same way," she said, interrupting my train of thought. I looked up.

"Huh?" I said.

"I mean I don't know where to begin. It's been what, nine years now?" she said.

"Ten," I said.

"Actually closer to nine," she said.

I snickered, "We're already arguing. This time over a truly meaningless topic," I said. Her turn to snicker.

"Yes, I guess you're right," she said. "So, nine-and-a-half then."

"Agreed," I said.

"So how are you, Benny?" she said. "Life treating you okay? Have a new squeeze since we last saw each other?" She was fishing and I knew it.

I stared at her. We were both older, and I had never been a ladies man, and she knew that. I was always the desperate one when it came to getting dates, or for sure getting a woman to grant me a little mercy and spread for me. Things were certainly not any better now that I was older. No, not any better at all.

I guess my look must have cued her. "Oh my, I'm sorry, Benny. I didn't mean to be digging into your personal life," she said. I'd looked away, now I looked back at her.

"No, no. It's okay. It's just been-anyway, to answer your question, life is okay, I'm workin' and getting by; and no, I don't have a significant other. You were the last one of those," I said.

I'd just decided to get it out rather than fake my way through it for the sake of pride. At age 50, I wasn't all that concerned about what people thought of me; my ego had long ago gotten pretty much crushed and that by the very woman sitting across from me at this very moment.

I could see I'd stopped her with my admission vague though it was. "Benny, can I ask, you're not saying… " I shrugged as she seemed to run out of words.

"Jesus, Ben. I had no idea. I'm-I'm so sorry for, well, for everything. Benny, in case it matters, Mark Watson turned out to be a player. It was too late by the time I figured it out of course, but I have spent many sleepless nights wishing I could undo what I did to you back then; I mean what he and I did to you," she said.

"It's okay, what is-was-well whatever, a lot of water under the bridge." She had taken on, what I would describe, as a singularly intense facial expression. "But, let me ask you, Veronica, are you saying that you're loose and unattached?" I said. She nodded.

"There've been men since Mark, and one of them you know, Roger Gilford, but nothing long term since him, and certainly nothing even approaching permanent. I'm not interested in marrying anybody. You kind a spoiled me for that," she said, smiling weakly. I gave her a look that made her look away. "Roger was worse than even Mark. He turned out to be a user and an abuser, Ben. I got rid of him right after I was released from the hospital."

"Gilford? He hurt you?" I said. "Hospital?"

"Yes. That was two years ago now."

"Jesus! Wait, you said I spoiled you for the likes of them. Is that what you said?"

"Yes."

"Harrummph! if that were so why did you do me like you did, Ronnie? Why!" I said, a little too earnestly. Now, her smile was indulgent.

"Because dumb-dumb I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. Your dick is too damn small for a big girl like me. Oh, I still got pleasure out of it, out of you, when you socked it to me; you can doubt it if you want to, but I did. But, it is also true that I got a roller coaster ride out of it when Mark or Roger took me.

"And, while you will likely never believe me, what you bought to the table, my good man, was a helluva lot more valuable, more important, more meaningful, more to be desired than anything Mark or Roger or any other man I ever did put there-including Mark and his nine-inch telephone pole!"

"Yeah right! Then why didn't you opt to dump him and keep me! Given your stated opinion of my overall superiority, it would seem to have been a no brainer," I said.

"Because, love, (a) I never thought you'd actually leave, and (b) I was pissed at you and I thought that at worst I'd have to train him like I did you. But, you did leave; and, he eventually proved untrainable. Talk about miscalculations," she said.

"Benny, I'm going to go out on a limb here. Okay? And, please don't take this the wrong way," she said.

"What," I said, suspicion verily tripping from my tongue.

"First, how long has it actually been since you had your dick inside of a woman?" I looked down. I could feel my face flush. She waited.

"A couple of months ago," I guess. She narrowed her eyes.

"Benny, I know when you're lying. And, that was a lie," she said. "So, goddamn it! how long has it been?"

"I'm not lying, but-I had to pay…"

"A prostitute! Okay, then let me rephrase. How long has it been since you got any free pussy?" I was squirming inside. My body was immobile, but I was squirming, and I felt like I was about to cry; but, so far I'd at least been able to hold that back.

"All right, if you have to know. The last time was when you and I did it together," I said. And, now I was crying. Not sobbing, but I could feel the trail of tears dampening my cheeks.

She gave me a look the main feature of which was the fact that she wasn't blinking. "Ten years!" she said. "Are you saying that it's been Ten years! You're kidding right?"

"Nine-and-a-half," I said.

"Jesus, Benny. I am so sorry. I had-I mean-I knew it might not have been often-but…"

"It's not your worry, Veronica. Not your worry. I got up and started to leave. She came around to me, and she did it so fast that I fell back into my seat from surprise. She grabbed my arm and literally dragged me to my feet and through the door.

As we walked-and she was actually pulling me along-she spoke. "Not my worry! Of course it's my worry. Benny, you can call it a mercy fuck, a medicinal fuck, a you-better-believe-it's-time-to-get-it-on-fuck or whatever. But, you're coming with me, and you're going to fuck me raw. And, I mean all fucking night," she said. "Oh, and no charge!"

"But-but…"

"Yeah, Butt with two t's. We'll be talking about that too," she said. "Your dick is small enough to do that too; I mean without killing me."

Of course I'd had had no idea where she lived, and, also of course, now I did. It was a small one story three bedroom house not a mile from the market where we'd bumped into each other. We'd driven in her car, at her insistence. She didn't trust me to follow her.

Arriving, she'd made me sit on the couch in the living room, disappeared into the back somewhere, reappeared with two full goblets-I mean full-of white wine, and offered a toast. "To us," she said. I tilted my glass and sipped the rather sweet elixir; I made it to be sauterne. I had a question.

"Tell me, Veronica, when did you move here? I mean…"

"To answer you real questions Ben. Yes, I still work at Mercury, and yes Mark is still my boss, but only that. I live here because I found a place that suited me, and the forty-five minute drive in every morning isn't that taxing. I get paid enough to not have to worry about the price of gas.

"Oh," I said. "I'm glad you're prospering,"

She stood in front of me, placed her glass carefully on the coffee table in front of the couch, and began stripping. When her bra fell to the floor her breasts kind of bounced as she made to loosen and drop her skirt. She was still beautiful, no question. Her panties were last, and they revealed a bald pussy: a direct invitation for someone to fuck her. My dick was so hard it actually pained me.

"Jesus, you're beautiful," I said. She smiled.

"Thank you. Now you stand up," she said. I did as she told me. "Now, strip." Again, I followed her orders. She seemed amused at my efforts.

Naked, I stood facing her with my hands at my sides. She appraised me as if for the first time.

"Hmm," she said, "kinda small, but we can make it work. Her words in past times would have killed my ego and driven me from the house. But not tonight. I was horny. Jesus was I! And, I was ready to take whatever abuse she heaped on me. She came to me, and knelt in front of me. At first she just looked at my cock not saying anything. Then, she leaned forward and licked the glans. She didn't touch it with her hands, not then, but she licked me. I was in pain and heaven at the same time. The anticipation was killing me.

Finally, she grabbed my cock and guided it between her lips. She sucked me slowly, trying, I was sure, to make the feeling, the exquisite feeling, last. It took maybe five or six minutes, but I finally exploded into her mouth; she swallowed it all.

"Good, the first one is out of the way, now maybe you'll be able to last a bit," she said. I pulled her down to the floor, and loomed above her meaning to take her missionary; she pushed me off and to the side. I looked her askance.

"Not that way. I want you to take my butt first. No one ever has, regardless of what you might think. Mark was way too big, and I denied everyone else, even Roger, hoping… " she stopped and looked at me. It was a wan and almost forlorn look.

"What?" I said.

"Well, hoping that maybe you and I-well-you know-that maybe we could…"

"Oh, okay." I smiled, "Okay, let's do it then," I said. She pointed to a small bag on a nearby end table that had gone unnoticed by me until just then. The KY's in there. I bought it earlier today for a date I was going to have tomorrow night. And no, not so the man could have my ass. He's big and I needed for him to use it to do my pussy. I nodded.

A date for tomorrow night? A date with a cock so big that she needed KY jelly. For some reason her words didn't deflate me this time as would once have been the case. I wondered if she'd be keeping her date. And, I wondered, whether if she did or didn't, what it would mean for me. And, I wondered if it mattered either way. Helluva note.

She positioned herself on the couch, her butt pushed lewdly back inviting me to fuck her. I spread a fistful of the white lubricant gently inside her anus and on my dick.

"Ready?" I said.

"Yes, but go slow. I'm gonna have to get used to the feeling, okay?" she said.

"You betcha," I said.

She was tight, but it didn't take long to break through her sphincter. I pushed and pulled and finally I was in as far as I could go. She was breathing hard: short staccato breaths; she was feeling it.

"You okay?" I said.

"Yes," she squeaked. "You can start screwing me now; I mean for real. But, still go slow." I began see-sawing in and out of her. Soon I felt her pushing back to meet my thrusts.

I stiffened, spit dribbled from the corner of my mouth. I could sense her shivering. She came maybe a nanosecond before I did. I slid from her to a sitting position on the floor, my back leaning against the cushions of the couch; my woman had collapsed into a semi-fetal position on the couch proper. It was the best fuck I'd ever had, and I hadn't even used her pussy, not yet.

Some minutes later, I felt her stir. She sort of rolled off the couch and crawled to me. She coaxed my legs apart and knelt between them. On her knees, she leaned into me, and, bending forward, took my cock into her mouth, dirt and all. She sucked deliciously for some little time. She managed to raise the dead. It occurred to me, that were this 1692, that she would have been hanged for witchcraft. I smiled and rolled on top of her now prostrate form on the carpet.

"Now, you can do my pussy missionary, mister Horton." And, I did.

We lay sprawled out on the living room floor. I was finally getting back to breathing normally. Staring at the ceiling, I was trying to figure out just exactly what had happened.

We, the two of us, meet in a grocery store; we initially are a bit skittish and standoffish toward each other; we finally decide to get a cup of coffee; she propositions me-probably as much out of feeling sorry for me as for anything else; well, and maybe curiosity. And, we again, the both of us, have the best sex we'd maybe ever had at least together. I know this last was true of me, if she were faking it, she did a damn good job of it. So what now? I decided to ask.

"So what now?" I said.

"We date a little and maybe get remarried," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Huh?" I said.

"You need me, and I sure as hell need you," she said. "So…"

"We get married?" I said, interrupting her.

"We wouldn't be the first that figured things out after the fact," she said. I stared at her-hard.

"What about your other men?" I said. Now, she was doing the staring.

"You're asking if I would be letting other men have me, I mean if we were to get remarried," she said. I nodded.

"Yes-maybe-not sure," she said. "I will probably still need the occasional big cock to do me." I frowned. Could I live with it? I couldn't before. Her in the face attitude killed it for us a decade gone. But now? We were older, a little slower, a little more concerned with-with what? Something.

"We can date, Ronnie, but I'm not sure…"

"Good enough. At least you didn't reject the idea out of hand. I will say this. If tonight wasn't a onetime thing, if you're gonna be that much better in the sack that you used to be-well-my playing the field occasionally-if I even do-might not be much of a problem," she said.

And we did date, for about a year. And we did remarry at the end of that time. And, she did cut way back on her playing with other men, radically. Still, maybe once every couple of months I would come home from work and find a note telling me not to wait up and that my dinner was in the microwave. Well, at least there was no more hiding it or sneaking around; that was a plus.

Nevertheless, what got me, wasn't the other men doing her. No, it was her trying to get me to join in. So far I've not done it. But, lately, I've been considering it. Maybe watching if not actually getting naked. It could happen. Yes it could.

-----------------------------

   Series:Best Friends Forever
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:His best friend and his wife betray him to a degree that is truly beyond the pale, but...
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/14931/best-friends-forever
Published:2016-12-27
CHAPTER 1:

Young people today have an acronym for it: BFF or best friends forever. But, as is often the case in the real world, "forever" is a word that has no substantive meaning. For me, James Clausen, and my best friend Rodney Pollard, both currently and commonly 27 years old, the acronym had, however, been meaningful since the second grade.

Yes we were tight the two of us. And the nature of things being what they were, the gods seemed to making a point that the two of us would in fact be family to each the other. That in part because both his parents and mine had died and that together in an auto accident the night of our common graduation from high school. That particular tragedy had forced us to lean on each other for some time. His parents had left him money, a lot of money, and he didn't blow it. He'd been raised right. Mine had left me little insurance too, but nothing like my bud's fortune. But, I was able to get a job almost immediately which insured that I'd be able to take care of my eighteen year old self no problem.

To kind of reemphasize the point being made here: the two of us were-"were" now being the operative term-closer than two actual blood siblings. Rodney had been best man at my and the then Claire Woodrew's wedding which is another salient fact per this story. That wedding occurred three years gone.

At any rate, all of that was then; and this is now, and things are very different, as indicated, in the current now; but let's not get ahead of things; this story is complicated enough as it is. Boy is it ever.

******

Again, the name is James Clausen. I'm 27 years old as of last month. I am three years married to the most beautiful woman in the world, Claire Clausen nee Woodrew: age 26, five-ten, and one-twenty-five, 34B's, and a backside that can make a grown man cry with longing.

I labor for Allied Shipping. We basically ship farm produce to supermarkets and some restaurant chains all over the southern part of the state. I'm one of the truck drivers: pay's good, and the benefits the usual teamster package. So yeah, Claire and I are doing okay. Oh, and she doesn't work: strictly the all American housewife. No kids at this point though we have been talking.

I'd met Claire at a company party, our company's. She was on the arm of one of the managers, an office guy. She looked good, but she looked out of place on the guy's arm. I decided to take a flyer at some point during the little soirée. There'd be dancing and nonsense, read drinking, after the three course dinner, the inevitable speeches, and the awards handed out to deserving bureaucrats. Us drivers and loading dock workers never got awards, well, we're union. We do get invited to the parties though and most of us were more than willing to settle for that.

"Excuse me, ma'am, might I have the honor of this dance?" I said. I was displaying way more confidence than I felt. The woman glanced at her date. He shrugged, and we were off and flowing with the traffic.

As a dancer, I can claim that I can more than hold my own, but she was even better than I was. We stayed out on the floor for two more dances before I felt compelled to return her to mister wrong guy. But three dances were long enough.

Just before I did the honorable thing, I went for it. "Any chance you'd like to have dinner with a blue collar guy like me?" I said.

"A date? A date with you?" she said.

"None other," I said. She smiled.

"Maybe," she said, "how's your memory?"

"Huh? Okay I guess," I said.

"Good, it's XXX XXX xxxx," she said. I didn't have to ask her what it was that I was supposed to remember.

Delivering her back to her table and politely, if a bit insincerely, thanking the guy for his patience; I handed her off and headed back to my table where Henry Goodman, my fellow tablemate for the evening was signing for a couple of drinks for us. I literally yanked the pen from his hand and wrote her number down on my wrist.

"Scored?" he said.

"Maybe," I said. "She did give me her number."

"Looks like a winner to me," he said.

And it was and she was.

******

My arm slid down the length of her naked and sweaty body cupping the now soaked and slippery cleft between her long and very shapely legs.

She shivered at my touch. "That tickles," she said, but she was smiling.

I rolled on top of her, and kissed her. It was a long and sensuous kiss. "Suffer. That was the best ever," I said.

"It was good," she said. "You got me off the second time."

"I could tell by the screams," I said.

"Yeah, well don't forget the formula," she said.

"I'll be writing it down in the morning," I said.

The wedding was three months later. My best bud, Rodney Pollard, was best man. A girlfriend of Claire's, Jenna Courtland, was maid of honor.

The next three years were wonderful; well, they were for me. We had ourselves a four bedroom ranch style-2000 square feet-in the north San Fernando Valley. Three baths, two car garage, and two cars to park in it, well, one car, mine was a pickup truck. Oh, and no kids, not yet, but as mentioned, we were thinking about it.

******

Our third anniversary night of fun and frolic had been a sexual marathon. She had rolled out of our bed and headed into the bathroom. It took her half an hour to clean the stink of sex off of her. When she came out I went in, same purpose. I only took ten minutes; I guess I was less smelly.

I plopped down on the probably damaged mattress and looked over at her; I was still horny.

"I need to sleep and so do you," she said, sensing my intentions. "Tomorrow's a work day for you."

"Yeah, don't remind me. I hate Mondays," I said.

"Yes, well, they need good and alert drivers to get the produce of our American farms to the populace at large, and you are integral to that effort as the driver of one of those great big trucks," she said, laughing. "Oh and you do need to continue supporting this woman, don't forget that."

"Yes, you are pretty high maintenance," I said. "But it is an honor to be able to fulfill your many and varied needs and wants."

"So, you'll be home at the usual time," she said, turning the conversation to another topic.

"Yes, but if something changes I'll call," I said.

"Good, that'll give me a chance to kick my lover out before you arrive to discomfit us," she said.

"Oh for sure," I said. "And, it will keep me from having to kill the guy too. I mean there's an upside to everything."

"Yes, well that's true isn't it," she said.

******

The coffee was hot, the breakfast good, and the kiss goodbye the best: she waved to me as I drove off to support her very important person. It had been a good night had the night before. Claire Clausen was one very good piece, and she was mine.

******

She watched as his pickup truck faded into the traffic beyond. She sighed. He was a good man was her man, her husband, but boring. The afternoon would make up for it though: she definitely had the cure for "boring."

She headed back inside to the kitchen. She made the call. She heard it ring. She heard him pick up.

"Yes, it's me… Yes he's gone to work… after lunch… Yes, I have to clean up some… Okay good." She hung up. The man would be on time. One thing about Rodney Pollard, her husband's best bud, he was never late for anything.

Dishes done, kitchen cleaned, shower taken, now to do a little housework and wait. She poured herself a second cup of Columbia's best. She took hers strong, black, and unadulterated with sugar, cream, or any other filler. She had long maintained that she drank coffee, not candy.

She' vacuumed and did a little care giving to her potted plants. She looked up at the clock on the dinette's wall; it was 1:15.

She heard him pull into the driveway. She frowned. Their house was pretty much cloistered from those nearby, being at the end of the long cul-de-sac as it was, with tall hedges and trees blocking the view from mostly all but helicopter drivers: the operative term being "mostly." Even so the man could have at least had the sense to park down the street, no use advertising his visits.

He came in through the unlocked side entrance. He strode toward her robe clad form and planted a scorcher on her lips. She pushed him playfully back.

"Park on the street next time, okay!" she said.

"What? Why? Nobody can see anything unless they come up to the driveway entrance," he said.

"Just do it. It makes me nervous your car being here," she said.

"Whatever. Okay, from now on it's down the street," he said.

Her robe took that moment to fall open exposing her to his view. "My God in heaven you are a beautiful woman," he said. He was staring and blinking was a non-happening.

"I gathered you thought that," she said, staring in her own right directly at the bulge at the front of his pants. He merely nodded his response.

Stepping back to her he took her in his arms, kissed her again, and led her unresisting person toward the living room.

He coaxed her to the couch. She'd let her robe fall to the floor where it pooled at her feet. She eased herself into a sitting position on the couch and spread herself wide for him to do his duty. They'd fallen into a pattern that worked for the both of them. He'd eat her pussy to her first orgasm and ream her butt before he even undressed. She'd maintained it, the routine, got her in a mindset to be able to cum more easily when he did disrobe and finally take her.

He massaged the insides of her thighs licking his lips in anticipation of going down on her.

"You smell wonderful," he said. She just smiled as he leaned in and began licking and sucking first on her labia and finally her clit. She made little jerking movements as he brought her close to her first cum. God he was good, she thought. If only her unimaginative hubby could do it the way that his best friend could. She'd tried to teach him, her hubby. He just couldn't seem to get the hang of it; he was always so impatient. Well, it was what it was.

She squirted announcing her fulfillment. She gently pushed him back turning her back to him and assuming a kneeling position on the couch. She pushed her butt back at him almost taunting him. He leaned into her once again and began lapping at her anus. Man she tasted good, he thought. She mewed her appreciation of his appreciation. He adored her for some minutes before literally pulling her down to the floor with him.

He stood dropping his pants and pushing his underpants kneeward. He insinuated a knee between hers coaxing her to spread for him; she did so; he towered over her. Leaning in he gained an easy lodgment of his penis inside of her driving it all of the way in in one slow gentle inexorable stroke. He paused, waiting for her to get settled in for her screwing.

"Now," she said, "do me." He didn't have to be told twice. After some minutes, his moderate seesawing motions got her up close to fulfillment once again. Sensing that she was ready, he began pile driving into her without the slightest regard for her comfort. Nor did the woman ask any quarter: she wanted to be taken hard, and he was doing just that. She screamed her pleasure as she squirted once again.

They lay side by side semi-exhausted. No words were uttered during this time in their ritual. The ritual that they had come to practice once or twice weekly almost since the first days of her marriage to her other man some three years earlier.

"Do you ever think about things? I mean us and Jim and all of it?" he said.

"I try not to dwell on it. We, you and I, are part time; we both know that. I love Jimmy; I need you to kind of fill in the gaps as one might say. But, we've talked about all of this before, Rod. The status quo is good enough. I mean isn't it?" she said.

"So long as we aren't discovered it's okay I guess. I could wish that we were free to take things to the next level, but like you say, the status quo is okay," he said.

"Rodney, I actually do love the guy. In most ways he's the champ. And no, he is not your equal at you know what," she said. "It's just not in him. If it were you might not be here."

"Yeah, well a woman like you needs a man who is all that in every way not just most ways as you say," he said.

"Your money is not the draw you think it is," she said, smiling. "Yes, you're doing well buying and selling those houses and buildings and such, but so what. Jim makes a living and it's enough for us. Do I wish we were rich? I guess. It'd be nice, but he's not and that's the long and the short of it."

"Yeah, well, I can dig it. I know where you're coming from, and it's good that you're not some asshole gold digger; it adds to your attraction; it really does," he said.

"Well, I'm glad you're attracted," she said. "You know I don't feel guilty about what we're doing. I guess I should, but I don't. Do you think that's bad of me?"

"I don't know. I guess it is, a little bad that is. But I don't either. I mean I don't feel any guilt either. You should've been mine, but he got in first call, so it is what it is I suppose. Still, sometimes I do feel a bit apprehensive. You know, worried that he might discover us and maybe mess up our lifelong friendship, his and mine, not to mention what you and I have going," he said.

"Yes, well, I guess you can say the same for me when you get right down to it. Yes, apprehension is the word. And yes, I should've been yours and you mine. But, he is one heckuva a husband and a really good guy, so we'll just keep on sharing and not messin' with the program. Him finding out would not be good for any of us. So from now on, Mister, park down the damn street! Okay?"

"Okay, okay. Sheesh," he said.

******

A man's hopes and dreams are virtually always, once he reaches adulthood, bound inextricably to the woman of his dreams; assuming of course he has been lucky enough to find such a woman. I had. Claire Clausen, my wife, was that indispensable woman, the woman of my dreams. That didn't change as I listened to the two of them talking about me. The two of them being my wife of course, and, my soon to be ex-best friend Rodney Pollard. They were still in the bedroom, the guestroom actually. At least they hadn't had the brass effrontery to be doing each other in my bed, well, Claire's and mine; I thought that thoughtful of them.

A power outage at the yard and grounded the trucks for the day. That because if the office couldn't do its thing the trucks couldn't roll either. Hence, I was home early, very early; it was barely 2:30.

I made the decision to just wait where I was in the hallway until they were done. The more they talked the more I would know. The fact that what I'd already learned in the half hour just past was more than enough notwithstanding.

I heard one of them bounce out of the bed.

"You better get to doing whatever you've got to do," he said. "I have to be going too. I've got a couple of afternoon appointments scheduled that are only second to you in importance." He laughed.

"Yes, well I am glad that I'm in front of your no doubt long list of money making interests and responsibilities," said my wife.

"You gonna let him have you tonight. I mean you might be a little too stretched out for him to feel much," he said. Now they both laughed.

My heart broke listening to him talk that way about me, especially him.

"Stop talking about him," she said. "And as far as whether or not he and I do it tonight is none of your business. Yes, you're bigger, so what, just let it be, okay? I mean the dissing of my husband."

"Okay, okay, I love the guy too. I'm just foolin'," he said.

"I have to get a towel to clean your copious cum off my thighs," she said.

She wasn't quite scampering when she came out into the hallway and saw me.

Her eyes got big and her hand went to her mouth in shock. "Jimmy!" she barely whispered. I just nodded.

She ran back inside the room. I heard the muted and excited exchange between the two of them.

"Oh my God!" I heard him exclaim, finally.

It was another minute maybe two before either of them reemerged. I presumed they'd spent those moments dressing. Well, they were dressed when they did come out.

"Jim, I don't know what to say," said my used to be best friend. I didn't immediately respond.

"I know you don't want to hear anything I have to say right now," said Rodney, "but you and I-we have to talk sometime. Okay?" he said. I just shrugged, well, it seemed appropriate considering the situation.

Claire, for her part, appeared to be in a state of semi-shock. Well hell, I could relate. The man tendered me a little wave and made his escape.

Claire took a step toward me. She reached out her hand. "Jimmy…"

She'd apparently run out of words. I, for my part, found my voice; it'd been missing for some moments.

"I'll be moving out right away. Oh, and just so you'll know, we had a power outage at the yard; everybody got the day off. But it's early enough that I can find me a place to sack out tonight no problem," I said.

"No! Jim, please don't leave me. I know how this looks but it isn't as bad as in fact I know it looks," she said.

"Yes it is Claire. It is very bad. And, yes, I do have to move out. What the two of you said about me in there, well, I just don't know how I'm ever going to be able to deal with it or sure as hell forget it. I just don't know," I said.

"Jim, sit down with me. Let me make my case before you do something rash. Please, I beg of you, Jim, really," she said.

I was on the verge of breaking up. But, in the back of my mind or heart or soul or something, I was for whatever reason curious. What could she possibly want to say to me? There just could not be anything that would make any difference.

"The dinette," I said. I turned and walked down the hall. Her footsteps followed mine.

I took a seat at the table, she'd followed me, but before she sat, she went into the kitchen. She was gone for but half a minute. She returned with two glasses and an already opened bottle of wine.

"I need it even if you don't," she said. I snickered.

"Okay, it's a little early in the day, but it is a special occasion, I guess," I said.

"First off, do you want to ask me any questions?" she said. I stared at her. She started to say something when I didn't immediately respond. But then I short shanked her.

"Yes," I said, "a couple." She nodded.

"How long and why?" she sagged back in her seat, looked down, reached for the bottle of wine and poured herself a drink. I pushed my glass toward her across the table; she filled it too.

"How long? I wish you hadn't asked that, but since you did. Almost since the day we were married, right after our honeymoon actually. We do it about once a week, a little less a little more, depending. I know hearing that you have to wonder how I could keep it a secret like that for so long," she said. I nodded for her to continue.

"I could say that I just arranged things so that there would be no doubt that you wouldn't be home even by accident. I could say that Rodney's schedule, him being self-employed, made it easy to schedule things. I could say that we live in kind of a secluded place and discovery by neighbors would be unlikely if not actually impossible. But, none of those, true though they all are, is not the main reason," she said.

"Oh?" I said.

"It was easy to hide it, Jim, because I felt no guilt, so there was no tipping you off by guilty looks or words or what all," she said, "no tells as the gamblers like to say."

"You felt no fucking guilt! What the hell!" I said.

"Jim calm down! No, I felt no guilt and for a reason. I know that the actual reason might sound a little strange, I mean to you," she said, "but…"

"But?" I said, and it was a sarcastic but.

"Jim, I felt no guilt because I saw and see you and me and Rodney as family, the same family. Jim, the three of us are like a nuclear family. Rod was, is, kind of a brother husband to you. So, to me it wasn't cheating. And, I can tell you, Rod feels the same way," she said.

I sat there stunned. For the life of me I couldn't hate the two of them, even after having heard what they thought of me. I went for it. Maybe I could learn to hate them, but for the moment I was just sad.

"Okay, you wanna save this marriage?" I said.

"Yes!" she didn't quite scream.

"Then give him up, him and his outsized cock," I said.

"No," she said. I sneered.

"I'll be moving out today. Have a bad life you and my used to be best friend who just became my worst enemy," I said. I was kinda surprised; it hadn't taken very long for me to learn to hate them, the both of them.

"Jim, rethink this. We can get by this. It's not the bad thing that you, understandably, think it is at the moment. Really it's not," she said.

"The hell you say," I said. "I will not be your willing cuckold!" I got up and went to our room and started packing. At least the stink of their sex didn't permeate the atmosphere in there. There really is after all an upside to everything.

******

"You are kidding, right," said Rodney Pollard.

"No, I'm not kidding. I had no real choice. I just told him the truth. We are a family, or were," said Claire Clausen.

"And, he reacted how again exactly, I mean tell me again?" he said.

She sighed. "Like I said, he didn't actually react much at all. He just basically restated what he said earlier that he was moving out. He did make an issue of him being my cuckold, but that was pretty much it, and then he did, move out that is. He hardly raised his voice," she said.

"Shit! He and I have been best friends since forever. I'm going to miss the guy. The big news is that he's gonna miss me too. I know that as a great truth," said Rodney.

"Yes, and he and I will miss each other if I can't figure a way to get him to change his mind," she said. "You know, knowing him as I do, I actually thought that I could convince him of the good sense of hearing me out and even agreeing with me, at least on some level. But I guess his feelings were just too raw at that particular moment."

"Yeah, I'm sure they were. You know, I think it was more what he heard than what we did. Know what I mean," he said.

"I think you're right. He sees us as us as having made fun of him. I guess we were kind of laughing at him. But it was all just nonsense nothing was said that carried anything that was actually meaningful," she said.

"Yeah, well trying to convince him of that now is going to be a seriously tough nut," he said.

"For real," she said. "But, that's it isn't it. We have to try and convince him. At some point we have to sit the guy down and pin him good and proper. We have to make him believe us."

"Yes, but he is not going to be having you and me doing each other ever again and that at minimum," he said. She nodded.

"I know, and there won't be any way to hide it now that he knows," she said.

"How long should we wait do you think before we come on to him?" he said.

"I don't know. That's going to be a very delicate issue in itself. Too long and he grows bitter. Too short a time and his anger will still be at a high point. So… " she said, shrugging.

"I don't know either, maybe a month?" he said. She nodded, but it was a slow nod.

The two of them went silent. Each knew exactly what the other was thinking, but neither had the courage to voice it, but, then he did.

"And if he doesn't cut us any slack? I mean ever?" he said.

She shook her head slowly. "Then he and I will be at an end. There'll be no choice at that point in time," she said. "But Rod, we have to do our level best to not let things go that way. Are you with me?"

"You know I am," he said. "You absolutely know I am."

******

The Crossroads is, by any definition a dive. I'd been dropping in from time to time over the past couple of years after long days on the road. Sammy Gilchrist, a fellow driver, and I had tilted back quite a few yellow Pepsis there after work. My sometime bud Rod Pollard and I had also not been strangers to the place.

A dive it was, but it did have a couple of talented bartenders. Marie Semple was the thirty year-old bartender in chief at the place. She'd been holding down the fort at the Crossroads for six years. Oddly, or so it seemed to me, Marie was a college graduate. She'd majored in Art History so she'd said, but, ex post facto, she'd discovered to her eternal dismay that jobs in her field were all but non-existent. Still, her talent at mixing virtually any cocktail and her understanding of people as individuals were pretty much nonpareil. I loved Marie and Jackie DelaTorre too. Jackie was a twenty-two year-old neophyte barkeep that Marie was training though in point of fact she'd pretty much taught her everything she, Jackie, needed to know already.

At any rate these two women were of late my sole contact, on any kind of personal level, with the female gender since my breakup with the love of my life two weeks gone.

"How yuh doin' tonight, cowboy?" said Marie coming up to me as I claimed my usual seat at the twenty foot bar.

"Same," I said.

"So you haven't heard from her at all?" said Marie.

"No, and why would I? She's replaced me," I said. Marie just nodded.

"It happens, guy. And the world still turns on its axis and the casinos in Vegas are still not charitable institutions," she said.

"Yeah, well I guess you're right on all counts," I said, "though I'm actually not sure about the world on its axis thing." She laughed.

"Yeah, well that's what Einstein said or somebody," she said.

"Oh well if Einstein said it then it must be true," I said. She stopped rubbing the last nuances of moisture from the glass she was grinding.

"What?" I said.

"Jim, Your wife, and she's with your ex-best friend," said Marie. I didn't want to turn around, but I couldn't help it. I did.

They saw me at the same time that I saw them. Her hand went to her mouth. I threw a ten on the bar and made to leave. He beat me to the door.

"Any chance that I could get you to sit down with us, Jim?" he said. I looked him up and down.

"No," I said.

"Jim, please. Claire and I have been conspiring these past couple of weeks as to how to get you to sit with us and talk and maybe make things right. Please," he said.

"No," I said. I turned and walked out leaving him standing there. I had to wonder what he and my sooner or later to be ex would have said to me, I mean besides the usual meaningless platitudes. But, I guessed that the answer to that question would be never in the coming.

CHAPTER 2:

Dear old Rodney couldn't get me to talk to him, or to her, so she took matters into her own hands. She had no idea where I now resided, the Randall Arms, for sure. And, I'd made sure that the few who did know would not be blabbing it to anyone. But, that didn't mean that she couldn't get hold of me. And get hold of me she did, at my place of work. She was waiting for me when I got back from a run.

I saw her leaning against the loading dock when I came out of the office where I'd turned in my signed off on manifests.

Sammy came up from behind me and nudged me. "You better talk to her, Jim. She'll just keep on coming back if you don't," he said. I looked at him and nodded.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

I walked over to her. "The Denny's on the corner," I said, coming up to her. She nodded, and began the short walk over there. I followed her, but not too closely. Well I was making a statement: we were not together.

She'd taken a booth at the back of the place. The waitress was there with menus in short order.

"Just coffee," I said. "We won't be long." Claire nodded her agreement as to the order if not the proposed length of the meeting.

"How have you been, Jim?" she said.

"Bad," I said. "How do you think I've been, Claire? I mean betrayed by you and my best friend. Not much to feel good about."

"No, I guess not," she said. "Jim, I've come to ask you to come home. I need you to be my husband and to love me like you always have and me you."

"But you intend to keep on fucking my used to be best friend, right?" I said.

"It's not like that," she said, "and he's still your best friend."

"Oh, I must have missed something then. What is it like then?" I said.

"It's just something I do with him that makes me feel like, well, like he is a member of our family. It isn't even really the sex. It's more like an expression of our closeness, the closeness of all three of us," she said.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? No, you couldn't. I think you love him. And, I think you maybe like me a little, but not love me, not like him," I said. "So, unless you've got something else to say I really think we should just call it a day. You go your way with him, and I go my way home-alone."

"You're wrong Jimmy. I do love you," she said.

"More than him?" I said.

"I guess the same as him, or him the same as you; take your choice," she said. "That's why I can't give him up any more than I can give you up."

"Well, let's just say that you and I are definitely living in different universes. My wife must, that's must, be a one man woman.

"Claire no man has ever loved a woman as I have loved, and continue to love, you. Not Rodney, not Don Juan, no man: I will never love again. Date? Probably not that either, but as for that I guess it doesn't matter anyway. I will miss what we had, what I thought that we had. But it is what it is. I just cannot accept your idea of a marriage. So mister ex-best friend will have a clear field now: he'll be able to fuck you to his heart's content. So be happy.

"Don't come around anymore, Claire, it's too hard on me," I said. I stood, threw a five down on the table top, and walked out. She didn't try to stop me.

******

I got the papers two weeks later. No letter, no phone call, no nothing: just the papers announcing the fact that she was divorcing me. It was a sad time for me, and, I thought, maybe for her too. Well, one could hope. Oh and she wasn't asking for anything except the house; well, she did love our old digs always had. She should've, she was the one who chose where we were going to live.

I was once again occupying my favored seat at the Crossroads thinking back over things. One month since I'd walked out, one month since I'd had my last piece of ass, and one month since I'd begun moping about. Life sucked if one were me. I wondered what the two of them were doing at that moment. I looked at my watch: it was Friday night, 8:00 PM. They were probably getting naked right about now I thought. Was I jealous of my ex-bud? Hell yes I was, oh yeah!

I took stock: I was an emotional ruin, and a bitter and forlorn excuse of whatever it was that I had been. I just hoped against hope that the two of them felt some guilt for what they'd done to me. The bad news of course was that I doubted that they did.

"Another one of those?" said Jackie, nodding toward my almost empty glass.

"Yeah, and make it my last," I said. "I gotta get out of here before I'm too weak in the knees to do so under my own power."

"You got it, sport," she said. She disappeared for a few minutes and returned with my JD and the check. I handed her my card and took a sip of the newly arrived refill.

Five minutes later I was up and heading out into the lonely night, lonely being the operative term.

I should've pulled up stakes sooner. I knew that that was a true thing because the officer that stopped me, cuffed me, and transported me to jail assured me that such was so. Did I say that life sucked if one were me? Well, I should have if I didn't.

The desk sergeant at my temporary home asked me for my phone number. I wasn't thinking too clearly I guess, well, several JD's will have that effect: I gave him my old land line number by mistake. He wrote it down; and I forgot about it.

I did get my one direct call, I made it to my bud, Sammy Gilchrist. He promised to come get me when they let me out; that would be in 72 hours according to the judge who arraigned me. I'd need a ride, as I was informed, because my car was in the impound.

All said and done, I guess the desk sergeant felt sorry for me. It must have been the sad look on my face and the incipient tears that accompanied that look. He called my house, the place where I used to live.

******

"Hey Clausen, you have a visitor," said the screw.

"Huh?" I said. It had to be Sammy; he's the only one who knew I'd been arrested, but I had told him that I would call when they let me go. At any rate the screw led me down the corridor to the public room.

I'd gotten halfway across the concourse of the largish meeting room, where dummies like me got to converse with family and friends, before I saw who it was. I know my face went bright crimson with humiliation when I recognized him. I walked slowly toward him. I really didn't want to talk to him, but then again I did have something to say to him regardless.

"Whaddya here for Rodney? She's divorcing me, so she can fuck you without the inconvenience of having to worry about me being around. You have a clear field. I sure as hell don't need to see either one of you ever again," I said. "I have nothing for you and you have nothing to say that I care at all about."

"Jim, the cops called your house. I'm here to offer you bail if you'll let me," he said. "A DUI is gonna cost you a ton."

"Hell no! I don't want any bail from you!" I said. "You steal my wife and come here offering me some of your dirty money! Get real and get out!" I turned to go having momentarily forgotten what I wanted to say to him.

"Please, Jim, talk to me for a minute," he said. I turned back toward him.

"What!" I said.

"Jim, a couple of things: one, I didn't steal your wife. I did cheat with her on you. Guilty," he said. "And two, yes, she's divorcing you, and I will be marrying her because you wouldn't have it any other way."

"Man, you have brass balls telling me that," I said. "I sincerely hate you, Mister Pollard. I mean with white hot hatred, and her too. Get the fuck away from me. Get the fuck away!"

"Jim, please, you and I have been best friends for a long time. And, as strange as it might sound to you, I don't want to lose your friendship."

"Well, that's just too damn bad because you have anyway. When I saw it was you came to see me just now, I thought to turn around and just walk away. But I did want to tell you something face to face," I said.

"Oh?" he said.

"Yes, and this is for the both of you. I wish you were dead, the both of you! Okay?"

"Jim, I know you don't mean that. And, you'll undoubtedly find yourself a woman who will be your true love. Yes, Claire's lost to you because of your puritanical stance on things. But it doesn't have to be the end of the world for you, and it does not have to end our relationship, yours and mine," he said.

"I cannot believe that you think, that you actually think, that there could possibly be anything left for you and me after what you've done to me all of these last three years. Claire told me that she's been doing you ever since we got back from our honeymoon. You have no idea how bad that hurt me. You may in your selfish mindset think that what you did was okay. It wasn't! So fuck off! I don't want to ever see you again, Rodney Pollard, not ever or her either. Just get lost and stay lost." With that I did turn and walk away.

It was going to be a while before I saw either of the two cheaters again, and then it was going to be one weird situation to say the least.

******

He plopped down at the dinette table: the one that used to belong to his best friend, still did in a legal sense, he supposed. She was still staying at the house in the burbs instead of at his condo. She'd said she had too much invested in the place for her to just up and suddenly move. The truth was that she felt funny about the breakup with her husband, and moving out of the house that had been theirs was traumatic, too final. She had to work up to it, the move.

He'd honored her wishes and was spending almost all of his nights with her in spite of the long drive from his office and condo downtown; it was his way of supporting her. She appreciated his forbearance. They'd be getting "their" own new place after the wedding; and, she'd been thinking about keeping this place as well regardless.

"What did he say?" said Claire.

"About what we figured he'd say. He turned down any help from me. He told me never to come around him again. But I have a question for you," said Rodney.

"Huh?" she said.

"Did you have to tell him that we'd been doing it together since the two of you were first married?" he said.

"Yes, I felt that I did. He'd discovered us, and sooner or later he would have figured it out or asked; and hiding it, given what he now knew, lying or keeping secrets would not have been the best of all possible paths to forgiveness," she said. He nodded.

"I guess you're right. But him knowing that sure makes it a tough sell for us to get back on any kind of an even keel with him," he said.

"Did you tell him about our plans?" she said.

"Yes, like you, I figured keeping him in the dark till the last minute would not have been the best idea. So I told him. I'm sure he kind of figured it anyway, I mean that we'd be getting married," he said. She nodded.

"Jesus, I really didn't want for this to go down this way. We, you and I, will always have a cloud over our heads now. But, I guess it was inevitable when one gets right down to it, I mean him discovering us. I guess we'd just been kidding ourselves that it would never happen, or, that happening, he could be made to see the logic in our intentions," she said.

"Yes, but it was what he overheard not so much what we did that made the big difference, at least that's what I think," he said.

"Yes, I'm sure you're right. But it was all just nonsense. Neither of us really had any bad intentions or thoughts in anything that we said that day or on any other of a hundred days," she said.

"All true, and none of that makes any difference because there is no way we are ever going to be able to sell him on the truth of it," he said. "If by some miracle we can get him to soften his stance with us, it'll have to be some other way."

"Still, we have to make another effort, maybe more than one down the line to get him to a place where we can all get along again. I have to believe that that is possible," she said.

"Yeah, well anything's possible; but some things are just less possible than we might like," he said.

He sighed and gave her a look.

"What?" she said.

"I was just thinking… " he started.

"You thinking what I think you're thinking?" she said. He shrugged.

"Well, what the hell. We might as well. I already feel guilty; a little more guilty won't make a damned bit of difference," she said.

He came to her and let his hand rest lightly on her arm. She leaned into him and their bodies melded into one and he kissed her and it was at once tinged with love and lust and the promise of their futures.

"Let's take this down the hall," she said.

"Good idea," he said. He took her by the hand and guided her to the guest room. She stopped him just as they entered the room.

"No," she said.

"Huh?" he said, not understanding.

"Not in here. We'll use the master bedroom this time. It's ours now, yours and mine," she said. He relaxed.

"Okay," he said.

She went to the king sized bed and kicked out of her shoes. He watched as they landed on the floor a couple of feet from the headboard.

She began unbuttoning her blouse. She slipped out of it too. She stopped. "You gonna stay dressed the whole time?" she said.

"Uh, no," he said. He kicked off his shoes and made to undress too.

Naked the two of them came together, standing beside the bed. They kissed. His hands explored the back of her and her buttocks; his finger invaded the cleft between the two globes of her.

His finger penetrated her anus and she grimaced at his assault.

"You okay?" He said.

"Yes, just be gentle back there," she said. She pulled him down onto the coverlet. They rolled together for some time exploring, kissing, licking and sucking on this or that part of each the other.

Finally, he forced her onto her back and insinuated a knee between her thighs. Surrendering, she spread wide for her assailant and waited for what must inevitably come.

He loomed above her his cock brittle hard. He lowered himself slowly to her pussy and pushed at her still somewhat dry nether lips. She grunted her femaleness.

He pumped into her slowly. He felt her shiver; it was his signal to go for it, and he did. He drove into her like a wild man taking his she. Her eyes glistened with passion with maybe a few tears for her about to be ex-husband mixed in. But, in spite of the tears, there was no guilt, or, at least not very much guilt.

He stiffened unburdening himself of a sea of cum. The moment was frozen in time. She would remember it in future days: the doing of each other in Jimmy's bed, and her bed. Yes, it was a watershed moment for her: the moment she fully realized that she was now someone else's woman.

The next days would be days of emotional transition for her and for him.

The few weeks that followed turned out to be calm ones. They'd learned that Jimmy had spent a ragged weekend in jail and had finally been rescued by his old bud Sammy Gilchrist. Rodney wanted to talk to the man, Sammy. He would at some point, but for the moment things would be allowed to simmer.

******

She was actually nervous. She'd made the call some half an hour earlier. He'd be with her in but a few more minutes at most of that she was sure.

She heard the car pulling up into the driveway. Her fingers were tapping an irregular staccato on the counter top.

"Hi," he said, announcing his presence as he strode across the largish kitchen to the serving bar.

"Hi," she said. Her tone was somber.

"Huh? What's going on Claire?" he said, reacting to her tone.

"We're pregnant, and yes it's yours," she said. The stunned look on his face could only have been described as comical by any casual observer. Then he smiled.

"You're sure?" he said, "I mean that it's ours, yours and mine?"

"Yes, he pulled out as usual the last time we did it. We hadn't made the decision to have children yet, and with you not using the condom that time that he caught us in the act and since then. Well, like I say there is no doubt," she said. He nodded.

"Well then it's definitely time for a celebratory night out," he said. "This might be the happiest day of my life. It is for damn sure one of them!"

"Well, I'm glad you're so happy," she said. "At any rate, we've got ourselves some seven months to go."

He went to her and kissed her long and lovingly. It occurred to him that his ex-best friend was not going to be thrilled with the news when he heard it. Well, it had been his choice, and it was a damn shame, he thought.

******

It was almost a year now since the end of my marriage to Claire Woodrew. I was at my usual station tilting one back just as my bud Sammy took the stool beside me. "How yuh doin' sport?" he said.

I shrugged. "Eight or ten more of these and I should be cool," I said.

"You're drinking too much," said Sammy. "And yeah, I know I'm not one to talk, but you make me look like a junior high school kid."

"Yeah, well I'm depressed," I said in defense of myself.

"You know I've been dating Colleen Watson, that nurse I introduced you to," he said.

"Yeah, Colleen, right," I said. "You guys getting serious?"

"Jury's still out, but maybe. She knows your story and she knows your ex-bud, Rodney. Anyway, he was in the hospital last week, she recognized him."

"Oh, uh, so what?" I said.

"He was there with your ex. They have a kid," said Sammy. I know my face fell. I actually started to cry; I could feel it."

"Sorry guy, but I figured you'd wanna know," said Sammy.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. I threw a ten down on the bar and rose to go. I had to get out of there before I actually embarrassed myself publicly.

I had my car. But, I just started to walk home: it was a four mile trek, and I didn't give a shit. This was the livin' end!

******

I woke up to the pounding on my apartment door. It was Sammy and Henry Goodman, my other bud from Allied. Henry'd been the number three guy in HR for the past couple of years. He was a bit older than me and Sammy but in our group at the Crossroads.

"What the… " I started.

"You left your car at the Crossroads. Wanna go get it?" said Sammy.

"Huh? Oh yes, okay, yeah I guess," I said. "But did you have to wake me up so early?" I was whining but he knew the score so he didn't react.

"Yeah, well like I said last night; you drink too much," he said. Henry was nodding but not offering anything.

"Well, come in and have a cup while I get some clothes on. You know where the coffee maker is," I said.

The ride back to the Crossroads was mostly quiet. I say mostly. As Henry, whose car we'd used, pulled up next to mine, Sammy made a comment.

"Bud, you've gotta let her go. She's gone; it's time to get on with things, new things, new women. Okay?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "It's just hard. Here I am almost twenty-eight years-old and starting over. It's hard, like I say."

"Yeah, I know," said Sammy.

"Me too," said Henry. "My wife dumped me for a bigger dick five years ago. I'm mostly over it now. At least we didn't have any kids; that would not have been good."

"Yeah, well same here," I said. "And yes, you're right, that would not have been good. I guess we should count our blessings."

"There you go," said Sammy, agreeing with us. "Like I said, time to be getting on with things and dumping all of the baggage." I nodded.

Driving back to my place, I was thinking of all of the undoubted happiness around the Pollard residence. I sighed. Maybe there was a woman out there that I could maybe trust to be my woman, and maybe even have a kid with. I wasn't too old, not yet. I began to feel a little good, but the good was definitely mixed with the ever present melancholy.

******

"You think he knows we've got a little girl?" she said. He shrugged.

"I don't know. I kinda hope not. It'd just be something else for him to focus on," said Rodney. She nodded.

"Yes, that's true. Still, he's bound to find out sooner or later. I just hope he's moved on when that happens," she said.

"Yes, that would be best. I do hope he's done that, moved on I mean. I mean it has been a year now," he said.

"Do you think…?"

"No," he said. "He's made it plain that he doesn't want us around. We did our best, given the circumstances, to try and make things right by him. Going to see him or trying again would not be useful." She sighed. "Claire, if he comes to us, we will do what we reasonably can, we will, but it has to be him coming to us."

"I guess you're right," she said. They turned toward the hallway.

"The baby's awake," said Claire. She was smiling.

"Feeding time or potty time?" he said.

"Feeding time, silly. She doesn't cry like that for potty time," said momma. Her husband smiled and raised his arms in surrender.

"Me or you?" he said.

"Why you darling. I think she called your name," said Claire. He smirked.

"Okay, sounds like an offer I can't refuse," he said.

He headed down the hall to take care of his daughter's clamor. He lived for moments like this. Rodney Pollard was a lucky man, always had been. But this lucky? Nobody deserved to be this lucky, as lucky as he was. The prettiest girl in the state for a wife, the prettiest baby in the whole world, money, position: no, nobody had a right to be this lucky, he thought.

As he picked up his daughter he thought about his once upon a time best friend. For a brief moment the guilt that had faded from his conscious mind since the last meeting with his onetime bud, returned. The baby's murmuring in her daddy's arms brought him back on center. He retrieved the bottle from the warmer near her bed. He settled in for a feeding time with the other love of his life, Rebecca Pollard age going-on-one. No, no one had the right to be this lucky.

CHAPTER 3:

Sammy was right; I did drink too much, but I didn't give a damn. I needed to drink and to drink often. And why the hell not, John Daniels loved me. I wonder what they'd named the baby. I wondered if it were a boy or a girl. I guess it didn't matter; I'd never be meeting it-him, her.

It was strange it was. I couldn't get the kid out of my mind. I couldn't get the two of them out of my mind either. The way they'd done me. Was I jealous even after a year? I guess I was and bitter too. I needed my woman. The kid should've been mine. My best friend? Well fuck him!

Work was a pain anymore. I hated my job, my nothing job. Well, maybe it wasn't such a nothing job, just not any kind of job that meant anything to my gold digger ex-wife. I wondered if they ever thought about me. Probably did. Likely felt sorry for me. That was why the two of them had tried to get me to be friends again I supposed. Friends with my own wife, ex-wife! Would've been a first. Maybe one for Guinness.

At any rate drinking was good, very good. And Marie and Jackie loved me. They were my friends. I'd talked to them a lot, maybe more than even Sammy. Hmm, well it was close that one. I did talk to Sammy a ton; Sammy understood my pain, and he did sympathize, sometimes too much.

"Let's get a booth," said Sammy and Henry coming up to me and nudging me off of my stool.

"Shit, Sammy, you scared the heck outta me," I said.

"Come on, sport," said Henry. "The seats are better over there." I shrugged, picked up my JD and followed them over to the line of booths against the far wall that bordered the smallish dance floor.

I plopped down on the padded bench to the right; my buds took the one across from me.

"You guys interrupted what was working out to be a perfectly good evening of depression," I said, not exactly smirking when I said it.

"Yeah, well, what the hey, we're here to make your evening even more of a downer," said Sammy.

"Yeah, well thank you for that," I said.

"Let me interrupt this truly wonderful moment of morbidity," said Henry.

I tilted my glass indicating he should feel free.

"Jimmy, you've gotta stop being late so much at work. Charlie's been cutting you some slack these past months because he knows how hard your breakup with Claire has been on you. He went through the same thing and completely understands, but his boss is starting to ride him. Anyway, that's why we are both here tonight," said Henry.

"Hmm, passing along the message, that it?" I said. Sammy nodded.

"Yeah kinda," said Henry.

"Okay, message received," I said.

"There's something else," said Sammy.

"Something else?" I said.

"Yeah, Colleen saw your ex again the other day. She came in with her daughter for the kid's periodic checkup, I guess. Anyway that's what Colleen said," said Sammy. I looked down.

"Daughter?" I said. I'd wondered since I'd heard they'd had a kid whether it was a boy or a girl; now I knew.

"Yeah, a little girl," said Sammy.

"She shoulda been mine," I whispered. "She'd be what now, maybe a year old?"

"Jim, I'll say it again, you've gotta get over her, them. There's a woman out there just waiting for you to make her day. But no woman wants a guy with the baggage you've been carrying around," said Henry.

I nodded, I knew he was right, but that didn't change my mood an iota. "Yeah, I know," I said. I took another sip of my JD.

The conversation turned to other topics over the next while. I guess I was paying attention. Every once in a while one or the other of my buds would laugh or slap one the other on the back. I smiled a lot, I was sure of that much. I contributed the truth that my USC Trojans were better than Henry's Texas Longhorns; well, he was originally from Amarillo, so I guess he had no choice.

We got out of there, the Crossroads, at a bit past midnight and it was Friday night, actually Saturday morning now. I had my car, but I decided to walk home, again. One, I was seriously drunk; and two, I needed to think and walking did that for me. Hell it was only four miles.

An hour and a half later I tried my key; it still worked. There's an upside to everything.

I hated the idea of being around the woman, but at the same time, I needed to be, was desperate to be. What the hell was that about! I sure as hell didn't know. I resigned myself to another night of being alone and lonely and desperate for a woman's touch, a woman's love. I needed those badly and I had no hope of getting any. Well, I had no hope of getting any from the woman I most wanted to get it from.

Sammy and Henry's words came back to me. Go find me another fish in the sea? Maybe, I guess I had to try. Living like I was twern't no good, no good for anything or anybody. Yeah, I guess I had to make the effort. Who knows maybe down the line I'd have me a daughter or son of my own; wouldn't that be the cat's meow! I wonder what the two of them would think of that. I snickered, even though nobody was around to see me snicker, probably look down on me and mine; that was the probable answer to that question.

******

I'd just gotten done delivering a load to Franklin's Super Store, a grocery outlet with sixteen locations throughout the state; it was actually near my apartment at the Randall, maybe half a mile away.

I was sitting down at Mary's Diner across the street from the drop when he pulled up a chair across from me. I hadn't even gotten my corned beef, and the sonovabitch was sitting across from me staring; well, I thought he was staring.

"And just what the fuck does my worst enemy in the whole world want now. And how the fuck did you know where to find me!" I said.

"In reverse order: I happened to be here for lunch too; pure coincidence. As for being your worst enemy, I'm not, you are," he said.

?"Hmm, I don't believe your number one, and I sure as hell differ with you per your number two. So, now that we've settled those matters you can fucking leave. I need to eat and I need to make a living and you're standing in the way of both," I said.

"Look Jim, let's talk a bit. Would that be all right? I'm not here to cause you any trouble or grief. Really I'm not," he said.

For whatever reason, I shrugged; it was shrug tinged with bitterness, and I'm sure he got the message, but it was a shrug nevertheless. "Get to it," I said.

The man across from me sighed, as well he might. "Would it be all right if I bought me a cup of coffee?" he said.

"Yeah, but don't plan on staying long. I really don't feel good about you being here coincidence or not," I said. He signaled the waitress who was just passing by.

My lunch arrived at the same time as his coffee. How fucking timely, I thought.

"We miss you, Jim. I know it sounds self-serving, but it's the truth. And by we I do mean the both of us. Yeah, me and Claire screwed up. But… " he said, and paused.

"But?" I said.

"Jim don't take this wrong. But Claire and I were meant to be together. You got there first and put in your bid. She was ready to be married and she, all too quickly, said yes; and then you were married, and you were my best friend, and I planned to stay the hell outta the way but… Then you two got back from your honeymoon and she was so beautiful, and well, I put a move on her.

"It turned out she wanted me too, Jim. Weird ass as it seems she wanted the both of us. She and I made a pact. I'd get to have her sometimes, and I'd be there to cover the both of you financially and such…"

"What the fuck!" I said.

"Let me finish, please," he said. For the life of me I shut up for the moment, and no, I don't know why. I shut up, but I could feel my face twitching in anger at the very sound of his condescending voice, attitude.

"Yes, we made a deal to play on the side and be all one big happy family and all of that. You'd get to be married to her and be there twenty-four-seven, and I'd be there in the wings in case either of you ever needed anything. And, if you had children, I'd have been their godfather, and well, that's pretty much it except for one thing," he said.

"Huh? What one thing?" I said.

"Well, this meet up, and it is a coincidence, is kind of fortuitous," he said.

"Fortuitous? What? What are you talking about?" I said.

"Jim, I don't know if you know it or not-we've been apart for more than a year now-but Claire and I have a daughter. Rebecca is her name. We've decided to have her baptized. We'd be honored if you would be willing to be her godfather. I mean for real, my friend," he said.

I stared at him for a long moment. "Huh?" I said.

"It would be a real thing for us, not just some ceremonial thing if you know what I mean.

"We want you in our lives, Jim. The both of us want you in our lives. Claire especially wants to make good by you," he said.

"Yeah, but you'll still be in her bed and I'd still have my cold sheets to comfort me at night," I said. "No, it won't work. Some of the bitterness at what the two of you have done to me has faded, but the hurt and the emotional scars will likely never go away, not entirely no matter how much time goes by.

"In case there is any doubt in your mind ex-best friend, I still want and need my woman, the woman who is now your woman. And, I need her to be a one man woman. But, I can't ever have her again and I know it. And the realization of that makes it all but impossible for me to even look at another woman, or, be around my woman, Claire. She was and always will be my all, my everything, my irreplaceable life's love.

"So go back to her and sleep with her and, when you do, think of me wishing it was me. I want you to do that. And for that and for that alone I am so glad you happened to just coincidentally bump into me today. It was worth seeing you just so I could deliver that message. Yes it was," I said.

"Jimmy, you gotta cut me and Claire some slack. If not today, sooner or later you just have to. And, as for you not being able to be around other women, that's just plain crazy. You're a good lookin' guy with prospects and friends and a good heart. Yes a heart that Claire and I broke. We are fully aware of that. But you need to get it together and find that special girl the one that will make you forget your Claire and be your new heart's delight.

"Anyway, when you're ready please… " he said, leaving his meaning clear but hanging in the air.

"No," I said. He nodded, rose, and left. I think he was breaking up. I'd finally made an impact.

******

Sammy, as stated before, had been more than happy to inform me, more than once, that I'd been drinking too much. But, after my meet up with my ex-best friend Rodney Pollard, I began to drink at truly Olympian levels. Yes indeed, if drinking were an Olympic sport, I would have been more than a candidate for a gold medal.

And, my venue of choice, you guessed it, the Crossroads. Well, it had a certain sentimental allure for me.

The problem of thinking is that it is not always possible to not think of the things one doesn't want to think about. Trust me on that one; I know it as a great truth.

I was musing, which is another word for thinking, about what Sammy and Henry had said about finding me another fish in the sea to make my day. Similarly, I was musing about my recent-two days gone-run in with my worst enemy which had done nothing for me except remind me that I had no one to love and nothing I really gave a damn about. One might appreciate how the two musings complemented each the other.

I was nervous and not too drunk, not yet. I was going to go for it. I was going to ask a lady in attendance to dance. And, if I wasn't turned down, I was going to ask the lady for a date. Did I say I was nervous? Well, I should have if I didn't.

I hadn't been part of the dating scene in some six years. The year when I first met and courted and married Claire; and, the nearly two, almost three, years now since our breakup. I was not quite twenty-nine years old, so that was a good thing, right? I wasn't fat, a little on the short side at five-six, but okay looking for all of that; and I could dance pretty good. I knew for a fact I was a better dancer than my ex-best friend ever was: at six-three he was too tall to ever be all that good a dancer. The thought made me smile.

I perused the crowd. Most the women were with guys, but a few were just hanging out like me. Well, maybe not exactly like me. I pushed my JD back an inch or two from me and made to walk over to a girl, woman, sitting at a table by herself. She was nice looking though a little on the chunky side, not fat, just, well, chunky.

She looked up when I approached her. "Miss would I be out of line to ask you to dance?" I said. I was forcing myself to smile. She looked me over, not too critically.

"I'm not into dancing tonight. Sorry," she said. She went back to studying her wine essentially dismissing me. I went back to the bar my tail firmly cached between my legs.

A couple of sips later, I'd gotten up enough courage to make another foray among the unescorted ladies in attendance.

She was actually at the bar only a few stools away from my own. She was talking not too seriously to Marie who was handling counter duty at that moment while Jackie was touring the booths and tables that flanked the dance floor.

I slid off my stool and went over to them.

"Hi ladies," I said. "Marie, I was wondering if I might ask your friend if she'd like to dance." I cast my glance on the tallish and slender woman across from her.

Like the first of my trial balloons, the woman appraised me, smiled and shook her head. "Not right now," she said, "maybe another time."

"Oh, okay," I said, "for sure, another time." Once again with my tail planted firmly where it had been since my first turn down, I headed back for my station. I did notice the two women, Marie and her conversation mate, talking animatedly after I made my departure from their presence.

Well no balls and two strikes. I decided not to imitate Casey and just leave things at strike two. A third strike would definitely have left no joy in Mudville, not that there was any joy in evidence now!

******

I was only twenty minutes late, but "the man" called me into the office anyway. I really didn't need this.

"Jimmy, I know you've had a hard time: I mean the divorce and adjusting and everything, and you have to admit that I've been pretty understanding about your problem. But Jim, the boss is on my case about attendance and tardies. You're not the only one, but you are number one when it comes to tardies. You've got to cure that problem and you've got to do it now. Jim, if not, you're gonna be gone. I can't say it any plainer than that," said Charlie.

"Okay, boss, I get it. Things'll be different from now on," I said.

"Okay, good. Go ahead on then and let's get this stuff delivered," he said.

I was sealing the doors on my rig when Sammy came up to me. "Boss give you shit this morning," said Sammy.

"Nah, not really. Just told me to not be tardy anymore," I said. My bud nodded.

"Okay, you gonna be at the usual place tonight?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

I had to get my act together. I was putting Charlie on the spot. The problem was I wasn't sure that I could get my act together. It was my drinkin' that was the problem. Stop drinkin? Not happening. But I knew I had to do something. Hell if I lost my job I wouldn't have any money to pay for my drinkin', helluva situation that. It was definitely a case of damned if I did and damned if I didn't!

I actually got done with my runs early, an hour early. Charlie looked happy. Of course I hadn't stopped for lunch which of course was the cause of the early finish to my day. Now if I could only manage to get outta bed in the morning and into the yard before Charlie, who I knew would be antsy and monitoring things. That was gonna be a challenge.

******

My talk with Charlie and the pressure, and it was pressure, from my buds at Allied got me off and on. I began to get to work on time, and I was drinking less. Charlie was happy, my buds were happy, I was less unhappy; and, I was planning on taking another shot at finding me a woman, any woman, to connect with. I mean if she was under a hundred years-old and could stand to be around me I'd be good to go. I just needed a female to be with me at night. Yeah, nights, nights were the worst; well, they were for me.

******

I was once again musing, but this time I was musing while I was delivering yet another load to Franklin's. The boss had put Franklin's on my run whenever he could because it was close to my apartment. Convenience, that was the name of the game for me, I appreciated Charlie helping me out like that. I could arrange my deliveries on those days so that I could eat lunch at home; hey, it saved me some money, and I could catch the news on the Randall Arms gratis supplied TV.

The manager at Franklin's had just signed off on the delivery, and I was in the produce aisle getting stuff I needed for the week; it would save me making a special trip after work. Her cart actually bumped into mine. I looked up to apologize but the words stuck in my throat.

It had been more than a year since the coincidence of bumping into my used to be best friend. Here was another one, another coincidence.

"Claire!" I squeaked, finally.

"Jimmy!" she mouthed. "Jimmy, this is a pure coincidence, really."

The family Pollard sure was into coincidences, I thought.

"Yeah, like I believe that," I said, sounding no doubt a little bit snide.

"Jimmy, I come here all of the time. We live near here now, maybe a mile and a half up the road, at the Crown Towers," she said. "It's just a coincidence. I know you don't want us coming around you, so we haven't. It's just a coincidence."

Ironically this time I believed the Pollard representative. If they lived nearby, maybe me bumping into the bad guy a year gone did make sense, I mean bumping into him at Mary's.

"I see, well fine. Have nice day," I said, making to get out of there.

I pushed my cart rather hurriedly up the aisle to the row of registers at the front before she could say anything else. Man I sure didn't need to be reminded of how much I missed the woman. My dreams on this night were not going to be good.

I paid and was pushing my cart out the entrance when she came up to me just as I got outside.

"Jimmy, Mary's across the street?" she said, nodding toward the diner's entrance.

"Mary's?" I said.

"Yes, Jim, I'd like to talk to you if you would please," she said. I didn't answer her immediately; I just stared for a long moment. I nodded.

I loaded the two grocery bags I had in my car and walked across to the diner. Jesus, I knew this was not going to go well, but like an addict with no sense I followed the piper.

She'd beaten me in the door but not by much; well, I had stopped to put the bags of groceries in my car. The waitress came up to us.

"Table for two?" she said.

"Yes," said Claire. She led us to a table near the window and put menus in front of us, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

"How are you doing, Jim?" said Claire.

"Don't know," I said. "I'm feeling very uncomfortable right now. I don't know why I agreed to come here with you." She nodded.

"There's no reason to feel uncomfortable, Jimmy. I still have feelings for you. And yes, I know you still have feelings for me. We've have moved on the both of us, but we still have history and a lot of it is good. Okay?" she said.

"Whatever," I said. "So, why this sit down?"

"No reason really. I can see you're working. It's just nice running into you like this. But again, are you doing okay?" she said.

"Just working and getting by. Nothing to tell that you'd be interested in," I said.

"I would be interested, Jim. It's been a long time since we've talked. I was hoping just now, I mean since we bumped into each other over there," she nodded toward the store across the street, "that maybe we could see if there might be any chance to find a little bit of common ground."

"Can't see the usefulness in any of that," I said.

"Jimmy, we were married for three years. And yes, we're divorced now, but like I said, I still have feelings for you and would like us to be friends still, trite as that sounds," she said.

"I still love and miss you, Claire, and my dreams are actually nightmares of him and you in bed together and me alone forgotten and rotting. Finding common ground whatever that means would be a real hard nut for me. Well, you can imagine," I said.

"Jimmy, you've got to find yourself another woman. It's what you need; I know that. And there is no doubt in my mind that you know it too," she said.

"I tried to find me another woman, Claire, no other woman wants me," I said. Okay I was whining, and, having been turned down for dances by two women maybe didn't exactly equate with me trying to find a replacement for the woman across from me; but it's the only ammunition I had at the moment.

"Jimmy, frankly that's bullshit. You could not have been trying to find a woman, not seriously or you would have. You have a lot to offer and you're a good looking cuss at the least of it," she said.

I decided to change the subject. "Do you love him, Claire? I mean more than you ever did me?" I said.

"I love him as much as I loved you, and love you, Jimmy. He's very different than you, but that doesn't mean he was or is better than you. I see and saw the both of you as equal," she said. "That hasn't changed and probably never will. One thing he does have on you though, Jimmy, is a willingness to compromise to work things out. We do talk about you some, not a lot, but some. The both of us keep hoping that you'll get off and on and come back to us."

"My nights are too lonely for any compromise. Because we met today, I will be thinking about you tonight, and him, and for many more nights until the memory fades a little and I can be alone again without crying in my beer like some high school kid," I said, putting it all out there.

"Goddamn it Jimmy! Find yourself a woman and do it now! You need it, and to tell the truth 'I' need you to do it. So just do it! Got that young man," she said.

After the meet up with Claire-and yes I did, after all was said and done, believe that it was a mere coincidence-I fell back into my state of gloom and depression. I really needed that woman, but the odd thing was I felt a little bit good about the meeting up with her too. Damn I was confused, sad and depressed and confused. Freud would have salivated over the opportunity to study me!

Still all said and done, my "not bad feelings" as to meeting up with her morphed into an emotional fire in my belly. That fire led to me needing to put it out. To achieve that lofty goal, I turned once again to my good friend John Daniels; I'd turned to him a lot in the not too distant past, and now would again.

CHAPTER 4:

"Well, she is finally sleeping through the night on a regular basis," said Rodney.

She sighed, "Yes, but I still want to take her in to make sure her colic is really history," she said.

"Yes, yes, do it," he said. "She's due for her second yearly checkup anyway, right?"

"Yes, that's so, I'll call Doctor Boze tomorrow and set up the appointment," she said.

"Good, good, can't be careful enough with our heart of hearts," he said.

She smiled, "Yes sir, that's true, for sure true," she said. She was so happy that he was child oriented, so many daddies, as she'd heard and read, saw babies as more of a burden until they got old enough to throw a ball around with or the like. But Rodney had proved to be the perfect father. She wondered how Jimmy would have reacted if they had stayed together and had had a daughter or a son either one. Well, that was one thing that she'd never know, more's the pity, she thought.

She was waiting patiently for the doctor to show up; the colic was a dead issue, but the doctor had some other information that he wanted her to wait around for. At first she'd been terrified that the supposedly routine checkup had found something dreadfully wrong. But, the doctor had smiled and reassured her that nothing of the sort was happening. There were however some lab results from when the baby was born that had just now shown up; they, the results had been sitting in someone's desk files for more than two years; Dr. Boze wanted to talk to her about those for a moment or two as he'd said. He'd been gone for some little time.

The baby was sleeping in the carrier beside her. The darn thing sure was heavy, she thought. She picked up a magazine from the end table beside her and flipped through it absently. She put the magazine down. The timing was good: the doctor came through the door with a quizzical look on his face.

"Missus Pollard," he said.

"Yes?" she said.

"Missus Pollard, I had a quick look see of Rebecca's lab results," he said, indicating the manila folder in his hand. Can we sit down over there for a moment, please?" She nodded, a new sense of worry showed itself in her demeanor.

"Doctor? What's wrong?" she said. He looked over at her from the seat he'd taken across from her.

"Missus Pollard, I know you and Mister Pollard very well of course. Both of you as past patients of mine as well as the parents of little Rebecca," he said.

"Yes," she said, "that's so."

"Well, are you, the two of you aware of Rebecca's blood type?" he said. She gave him a look. She had to think.

"No, I mean I'm not, but I'm sure my husband is, well, probably," she said. The man across from her shook his head doubtfully.

"Missus Pollard, this is kind of embarrassing for me. It happens on occasion," he said, "but it is almost always an embarrassment."

"Doctor, what's wrong? Please!" she said, urgency in her tone.

"Missus Pollard, Mister Pollard is not the father of little Rebecca," he said. "I know you thought, the both of you thought…"

"Huh?" she said.

"Mister Pollard is type-O. The baby is AB+," he said.

She sat there stunned. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be! No way! The only other possibility would be…

"There's no doubt," he said. She'd paled. She felt faint. What was she going to do? She had to see her husband. She had to see him now. She rose, accepted the tendered manila envelope, bowed slightly in the doctor's direction, picked up the carrier and the baby in it and left, hurriedly left.

******

Pollard Associates, her husband's business name was run from offices downtown. It was there where her man manipulated his interests in the housing market and the buying and selling of properties and currencies on the various exchanges worldwide. Rodney Pollard was one heckuva money man. Barely thirty years old and he was already a force in the financial community. He'd had to hire a staff of three secretaries and a couple of male gofers to help him keep things in a manageable state, as he said, most of the time. His fortune had grown from what he referred to as the paltry million-five he'd inherited at age twenty-one, to almost forty million now, nine years later. And that figured to grow exponentially over the next ten years, so he'd assured her.

Carrier in hand, she mounted the steps of the ten story office building and headed for the elevators and the ninth floor where her husband's offices were situated. She'd likely be interrupting him, but this was important, and she was antsy, very antsy.

******

She scooted by the receptionist's desk to the cubicle where her husband's secretary labored. "My husband in?" she said to the twenty-something aide. The woman looked up.

"Missus Pollard, uh yes, he's in. You can just go on in," she said. Claire Pollard sighed and headed down the short hall to her husband's den. She entered without ceremony or knocking. He was on the phone.

He looked up and then spoke into the phone. "John, I'll call you back. Something's come up." He nodded at the phone and killed it.

"Something's come up hasn't it?" he said. "It's written all over your face. The baby?" He glanced at the carrier. He knew she'd been to see the doctor: the baby's checkup. It had to be that, and he was concerned, and didn't like it very much, actually at all.

"Yes," she said.

"Okay," he said.

"Rod, I don't know how to even begin to say this…"

"Goddamn it, Claire, say it. Is Rebecca all right!" he didn't quite scream. She quailed. She'd never seen him act like this.

"Yes, yes, she's all right. Physically no problems at all, very healthy," she said unnecessarily. He sagged back in his seat.

"Thank God!" he said with emphasis. "Claire don't do that to me! You had me terrified there for a moment."

"I'm sorry, Rod. I didn't mean to scare you. But, we do have a problem," she said.

"But you said… " he started.

"Yes, I said the baby's healthy. No problems at all. But, Rod…"

"What!" he said, not too forcefully.

"Rod, Jimmy is Rebecca's biological father," she blurted out.

"What? What did you say?" he whispered.

"Some of the lab results from when she was born had evidently been misplaced, I guess, but Dr. Boze somehow found them and when he checked them to see if there was anything of consequence that he needed to tell us; well, there was. She's AB+; you're type-O. There's no doubt, Rod. James is her bio-dad," she said.

"Oh my God!" he said, still whispering.

"Rod, what are we going to do!" she said.

"What we aren't going to do is panic. We're going to think. We're going to talk, the two of us. We're going to consider before we do anything. This could be a major problem for us, or, maybe no problem. But, no matter what, we need to be calm and rational and slow. Yes, he's going to have to know at some point; but Claire, it has to be at a time and place of our choosing. This is a problem, but not an insoluble one. Okay?" he said.

"Yes, yes, good," she said.

******

It was 2:00am Hah! I thought, they're probably up changing diapers. I hope the kid craps all over the one who's got duty. She had to be what two years-old now, maybe a little more. The thought brought a smile to my face. I could feel it.

My thoughts relating to fecal disaster for one or the other of them notwithstanding, I was sad and jealous and angry and still bitter as hell. There just didn't seem to be any justice in the world. The baddies, the two of them, always seemed to get more; and the screwed over, me, well, I just got screwed. Yeah, no justice, that was the reality. They say that God has a plan for everything. Well maybe, but I sure wish it would be a deal easier to figure out what those celestial blueprints were.

It was late; tomorrow was another work day, Tuesday. Another day working for nothing. Sammy had told me to get out and find me another woman. Yes, he had, about forty times. Though I was not by any means over the hill, I just couldn't dredge up any enthusiasm for the chase. I didn't want another woman; I wanted my woman. But, she wasn't my woman anymore and that reality continued to leave me feeling hopeless and depressed.

******

It had been a long day and it was raining outside, outside being outside the Crossroads B&G.; I'd made my deliveries, thereby ensuring that my bills would once again be paid on time, and I had been motivated enough to retake my seat at the best bar in town. And why the hell not? I had friends at the Crossroads. I looked down the length of the bar to where Jackie was in deep conversation with one of the local cowboy wannabes. I wondered if he'd score; Jackie was undoubtedly a sweet piece. I sighed, I needed a woman. Maybe I was thinking wrong. Maybe I should be taking the advice of Sammy and Henry. I looked around. Nothing, no women to be seen. Well, there was Jackie. Maybe I should try hitting on her. No, she'd shine me on. She knew about the baggage I was carrying around; she'd not want to be messin' with any of that; she'd said as much if somewhat obliquely.

I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.

"Sammy," I said. "You hangin' tonight?"

"Yeah, I guess. It was a long day," he said.

"Yeah, I'm familiar," I said.

******

"I see," said Bertrand Larabee. He'd been Rodney's lawyer since he'd adjudicated his inheritance almost ten years before. "So the man, your ex-best friend has no clue as to his paternity."

"No, and neither did we until two weeks ago," said Rodney.

"Well, he's going to have to be told or you could be opening yourself up to a lawsuit down the line, and he'd win," said Mister Larabee.

"But?" said Rodney.

"But, you will be in the driver's seat even so. I mean if you do tell him and don't try to keep him in the dark. Your wife is the mother. You have the wherewithal to support the baby with far greater resources than the bio-dad. And, you have proven your ability to be active parents in your daughter's life. But, I'll say it again, do not delay informing the man of his paternity; that would not be good," he said.

"Okay, I'll be taking care of that right away," he said.

"Good," said Bertrand Larabee.

******

"We have to tell him and we have to do it right away," said Rodney. His wife sagged back in her seat. She nodded.

"Yes, I was sure that that would be what he'd say," said Claire Pollard. "And thinking about it now, lately, I have to say I want him to know. And yes, I am absolutely aware that it is just something else he's going to be focusing on and blaming us and especially me for. But, on the other hand it might get him to be a little more accommodating about reconnecting with us too. So, you tell me, are the upsides worth enduring the downsides for."

He nodded. You know you make a very good point. I don't know if I have an answer as to whether the good is going to outweigh the bad or not, but I guess we can at least hope for the best," he said. "There's no real alternative in any event."

"For damn sure," she said. "So when do you propose we lay it on him?"

"I'll hunt him down at his shop tomorrow. Or, maybe lay in wait for him at the Crossroads. I hear he is pretty much a regular there since the breakup," he said. She nodded.

"Yes, I've heard that too. So good, let's do it. And let's try the Crossroads first, together, you and me. This is one time I think that we need to gang up on him. He'll be defensive at first; I'm sure of it. But, when he starts to think about things, I have to believe that he'll come around.

"Before we broke up, I mean the months before, he and I had been talking about maybe getting pregnant, but then, well then… " she said.

"Yeah, then he caught us and screwed up everything," he said. She nodded, but it was a hopeful nod, and, maybe a bit of a conspiratorial nod.

******

Well, they say things are only supposed to get better once a body hits rock bottom. Well, I don't know about other folks, but for me there doesn't seem to be any getting better. But, there is more than proof positive that things can sure as heck get worse.

"James, I'm sorry but I have to let you go. You've done this to yourself. Too much drinking, even on the job. Too many times showing up late for work. Frankly James, there's just no upside to keeping you on the payroll. You're fired James. Please have your locker cleared out by day's end," said Mister Penniman.

I nodded. There was nothing to say. I'd done it to myself. I couldn't even blame the cheaters. They were guilty of course, of ruining my life, but by any standard I'd aided and abetted them in grand fashion. Oh yeah, I was guilty too, no doubt about that no doubt whatsoever.

I had some money, maybe fifteen grand in the bank. Well, I hadn't been spending any of what I made on me. I'd paid the bills, and I'd cut up my credit cards, I'd done this last after the divorce. I could get by, find myself another job. I still had my car and my clothes and stuff. I'd be okay. I'd just have to lower my sights a little.

******

After my personal financial Armageddon, I decided to move out of my apartment, cheap though it was at $500 a month. I'd moved downtown since she'd kept the house in the divorce. I knew from talking to her that she wasn't living there. But no, I wouldn't be asking her if I could stay there; I wasn't gonna be asking her for anything.

I moved over to the east side of the Valley, Yeah it was a blighted area right enough, but it was close to everything, including the Crossroads, and the fleabag hotel I moved into ran out right at $300 a month with utilities included, hard to beat a deal like that.

The good news was that I was essentially retired, No job, no woman, just waitin' to die. Yeah real hard to beat a deal like that one. I wondered what the two of them would be saying if they found me dead. Probably go through some proper mourning period and then forget the hell outta me. Tell themselves how they tried to do right by me. Convince themselves how righteous they were, and how unfortunate it was that they couldn't convince me to go along with their fuckwad plans to make me a willing cuckold! I'd been one anyway of course, but an unknowing one: the two things were not the same thing, not even.

Yeah dyin' was the ticket, no more suffering, no more loneliness, no more thinking up wild ass ideas about how to get even with the two of them. No, just eternal peace. Yeah, dyin' was the ticket.

******

"He doesn't work there anymore, and he hasn't been to the Crossroads in a while," said Rodney.

"My God! He can't have just disappeared. He has to be working somewhere. I mean he has to eat, right?" said Claire.

"Yeah, maybe, but he is off the grid, as they say in the movies; hell, he may not even be in town anymore, in fact that's what I think is actually the case," he said.

"You say Sammy's not heard from him either," she said.

"Yes, I chased him down at the Crossroads and he hasn't seen him since right after he lost his job at Allied," he said. "I did get the guy to promise to let me know if and when he makes contact with him. I think he will. I think he's worried about him too."

"Well that's the hope, I guess," she said. "Jesus, Rod, it's been almost a year since we've seen him and now this! We gotta figure out something. Maybe a PI? Whaddya think?"

"I talked to Larabee again the other day, like I told you; he's iffy about hiring a PI. I wanted to be sure that we were cool if we just couldn't find the man, which we so far have not been able to do," said Rodney.

"And, are you sure we're okay. I mean if we can't find my ex-husband?" she said.

"That's what he said. So long as we make the effort to find him, a legitimate effort; we're covered. And we've done that: talked to his buddies, inquired at his old workplace, even checked some of the apartment buildings close to where he used to hang out," he said. "No, we're fine, covered, as I say. We really don't need to hire a PI, but it is something we may want to consider down the line." She nodded.

******

Well, I finally figured out how long it took for a guy in my situation to hit rock bottom in an economic sense. I'd run through my fifteen grand, sold my car for another three, done some cleanup work at a few local bistros and restaurants, and now I was totally free and living the life of a healthy and happy hobo. I was on the fucking street, broke, and cold! Well, it was always cold in the Valley in December; well it was this year. Christmas? Fuck Christmas!

I am able to eat. The damn Salvation Army can always be counted on to save guys like me, and women too. The SA kitchen didn't serve caviar, but I was always able to fill up the old abdomen in the morning. Once a day I was warm and fed thanks to them; it would have been real bad if they weren't around that's for damn sure.

For some damn reason I kept thinking about the kid, Rebecca, their kid. The one that should've been mine. Man being married to her turned out to be a real downer. Thinking about it, maybe I was a ton better off not having to have lived a lifetime with her.

Working at Marnov's Deli and café a few hours a week got me some much needed cash: maybe fifty bucks on average. It figured to be a bit more during this cold snap: more people eating in restaurants than during the warmer months. If it went along like last year I'd be pulling down a cool hundred and a quarter every couple of weeks. If I was careful with my money I'd always have me a bottle in my backpack; the only piece of luggage I owned or wanted. I did need to get me a new coat though, and maybe a pair of long-johns too; yeah, long-johns had to be at the top of the list. It was just too damn cold nights!

******

"How yuh doin', Claire?" said Jenna.

"Jenna Courtland, you know exactly how I'm doing," said Claire. "I'm doing questionable!"

"Claire, I've known you for forever, you and Jimmy. And now you and Rodney I suppose. And, I know you feel bad about Jimmy, but it's not the end of the world for either of you. You both need to be moving on. I know you know that," said Jenna.

"Yes, and you'd be right if it were not for the little problem that it was Jim's best friend that did him injury the way he sees it. Kind of a double whammy, and we, you and I, have talked about this long and often," said Claire. "And, now Jim is missing in action, probably having trouble trying to find female companionship to help him over the hump as it were. Well, that's what Rod thinks; fact is we really don't know anything for sure."

"Hmm, yes, I see what you mean. He probably does need a woman; I mean one he can hump, she said, and laughed. But, you have lots of female friends. One of them might be persuaded to give the guy a look."

"I've thought about that," said Claire. "Rodney and I both have. But, he won't have anything to do with either of us. So any of my old friends, all of whom Jimmy knows, are toxic because they know me; he wouldn't trust any of them to be straight with him. No, if he ever finds another woman to hang onto he'll have to be doing the finding on his own I'm afraid. It is what it is."

"I guess," said Jenna. "So anyway, how's the baby?"

"Rebecca's fine, she's four now so not so much a baby anymore. And, she's a handful to boot," said Claire.

"Where is she now obviously not here in the house?" said Jenna.

"She's in preschool. I pick her up in an hour. It's only half day, but it gives me a break and research shows that children who do the preschool thing do better in the higher grades later on. It's win-win," said Claire.

"Yes, I've heard that," said Jenna. "I take it her biological daddy still doesn't know that he's a daddy."

"No, we've tried to find him and tell him, let him know so we could work something out so he could be around her, but so far no luck," said Claire.

"No idea where he's gone to at all?" said Jenna.

"No, after he was fired at Allied he just disappeared off the radar as they say," said Claire.

"You know if he's not working he could be on the street," said Jenna. "I mean if he's as depressed as you've said; it might be that he can't even hold down a job let alone give a damn one way or the other," she said.

"The street?" said Claire.

"Yes, skid row, girl. That's where folks down on their luck or depressed sometimes end up. I have to believe that if he were working somewhere you'd have had a whiff along the line sometime. You might want to give a look see in that direction. He has to eat and he has to pay rent or something. Anyway, it's just a thought," said Jenna.

Claire shook her head. "No, I can't believe he'd let himself fall that far. Maybe take a long vacation somewhere, Mexico maybe. I know he had to have had some money. Yes, Mexico or someplace like it is my best guess," said Claire.

"Could be," said Jenna, "could be."

******

She watched as her husband put his briefcase down on the credenza and headed for the kitchen for his nightly snack. He was later than usual. He looked tired. Making money didn't happen by accident, not the big money that her husband was always chasing. No indeed. But, there was a price to pay. There was a price for everything: large and small, and big money had a very big price tag in blood, sweat, and tears. She didn't care about the money, not really. One needed enough to be secure and have the things one needed, but large money was nothing more than a pride thing and pride as everyone knew was the most capital of capital sins.

"You look tired, dear," she said, coming to him and planting a gentle kiss on his unresisting lips.

"Yeah, it was a little rugged today, but we got through it me and the team," he said.

He was always giving credit to the team: a half dozen souls making good livings because of him and willing to go the extra mile to do it. And there were a lot of extra miles in the bank already. He was a very good man was Rodney Pollard; she was proud of him and proud to be his wife.

"Let's go upstairs and see if we can do a little stress relief," she said. "Tonight I'll do the work." She giggled as she led him by his tie upstairs and into their room. He determined to just follow orders this night. Fact was he followed her orders most nights. The thought brought a smile to his face; his first of the day.

"Sounds like something I can get my head around," he said. "Oh yeah, yes indeed. I'm certain I can do that."

CHAPTER 5:

He was in his office. It'd been a full year since the last he'd heard of his old friend. He didn't dwell on it much, not anymore. That was something, thought Rodney Pollard. But at the moment he was on his mind, Jimmy was on his mind. One couldn't save the world. And some things were written in the stars. It looked like his old bud was condemned to be part of that mass of humanity that would be living lives of quiet desperation-apologies to Thoreau.

"Mister Pollard, there is someone here to see you sir," said the voice over the intercom, "he doesn't have an appointment."

"I'll come out," he said. Hardly anyone ever came to this office that wasn't invited. It wasn't that kind of office. 99% percent of his business was on line and impersonal. He did meet with lawyers and real estate people somewhat regularly but never without appointments.

Exiting the office, he saw a face he recognized. "Sammy?" he said. "This is a surprise."

"Yes, Mister Pollard, I needed to see you. I mean if you have a spare minute. I'm on a delivery and was nearby, so I made the decision to see if you could spare me a few minutes," said Sammy. "The guard downstairs said it would be all right to come up."

"Certainly," he said. "Come on in to my office.

"Denise, hold my calls," he said.

The two men adjourned to the man's office.

The big man took his seat behind his desk His visitor took the seat across from him as the man indicated he should. "So, I'm guessing you have some information about our friend," said Rodney. He was certain that the man did.

"Yes sir, and it's not good. I was making some deliveries downtown and I saw him. I saw him and I pulled over and went to talk to him but changed my mind. I decided to talk to you first, like I promised," said Sam.

"Sam, was he all right?" said Rodney.

"Yes and no," said Sammy. "He's apparently not hurt or anything, but he's clearly a broken man. He's on the street, skid row, and not looking too good." The other man's face fell.

"The street! The fucking street!" said Rodney.

"Yes sir, I saw him go into the Salvation Army soup kitchen. He looked pretty ragged," said Sam.

"You didn't talk to him then?" said Rodney.

"No, no like I said, I was going to but changed my mind. I was afraid he'd blow me off or, well, something," he said. The other man nodded.

"The kitchen, you mean the one on Main?" said Rodney.

"Yes, that's the one. I figure he's probably hangin' out in the neighborhood," said Sammy.

"Yes, yes, makes sense.

"Look, I'm going to make the effort to see the man. I have some important news to tell him. He's just got to straighten up and come to his senses," said Rodney Pollard.

"I don't know about that, Mister Pollard. He's pretty down has been since, well since… " said Sammy.

"Yeah, yeah I know what you're saying," he said. "Look, thanks a million for coming in and I really appreciate you keeping your word to let us know when you heard anything. It means a lot. If there's anything I can do for you just let me know," he said.

"Thank you sir, I will," said Sam.

The two men talked for a couple of minutes more and Sammy hit the road. He still had deliveries to make.

******

"I can't believe it. I talked to Jenna a few days ago and she said that him being on the street might be a possibility, but I just blew her off; I just couldn't believe something like that could possibly be real," said Claire.

"Well, believe it; it's real. I will be finding the man and putting it to him pretty forcefully," said Rodney.

"We'll go together," said Claire. "I need to be there to kick his high school butt. The man just has to, well, man up!"

"Okay, I'm not sure the both of us being there is a good idea, but maybe it is. Anyway, let's do it," he said.

******

Main Street was a drag maybe a shade under four miles long. It was one of the earliest streets to be developed in the main part of L.A. It was depressed now, economically. The homeless and generally indigent saw it as a place of refuge. The Salvation Army had its kitchen there and its chapel too was just a few blocks away. Finding their man should not have been a problem. But, it was proving to be.

They'd been cruising the area for almost an hour. They'd seen no sign of the man at all. Frustration was setting in.

"Let's try the kitchen. We should have started there," she said. "I mean that is where Sam said he'd seen him, right?"

"Yes, I guess you're right. But it's 3:00pm I doubt if he's going to be at the kitchen now," he said.

"Maybe not, but maybe someone who works there might know where to look," she said. He nodded.

"Yeah, makes sense I guess," he said.

He whipped a U-turn in his brand new Cadillac and drove the half mile back down the street to the Salvation Army's kitchen.

They pulled into the lot behind the sizable structure and went in. A few men and a woman with a small child were in evidence seated at the metal folding tables situated around the spacious eating area. The serving area was closed at that moment though one worker seemed to be setting things up for a meal, probably for the evening rush, thought Claire. The Army did do a lot of good work for the pilgrims of desperation row.

"Let's ask that guy behind the serving counter over there," said Claire.

They wended their way across the room. Rodney Pollard waved to get the attention of the man behind the counter who seemed very intent on getting things arranged for whatever.

"Sir, can we speak with you for a minute?" said Claire, finally having gotten the man's attention.

"We don't serve until 5:00pm," said the man.

"No, no," said Rodney. "We're looking for a friend."

The server eyed him suspiciously. "A friend?" he said.

"Yes," said Claire. She pulled a photo from her purse and handed it to the man to look at.

The man looked at it and handed it back to her. "Yes, I know the guy. He's come in here sometimes for breakfast. We serve breakfast and dinner here, no lunch, not enough funding. He never comes in for dinner though, don't know why," said the server.

"When was the last time you saw him?" said Claire.

"A few days ago. But, it's been cold. A lot of guys try to find a place to hang where it's warmer, know what I mean?" he said.

Rodney Pollard nodded. "They still have to eat don't they?"

"They find a way. I know. It doesn't make any sense; I mean it's warm in here, but when it's cold the guys and some of the women, just don't like to move about. Know what I mean?" he said.

Rodney thanked the man and he and Claire went back to their car.

"We'll find him," said Rodney. If he's in town, anywhere in town, we'll find him."

"We have to, Rod, we have to," said Claire. The man just nodded.

******

"So Don, find the guy, okay?" said Rodney.

"I will. Rod, finding the guy might take some time though. Guys who've been on the row for a while don't exactly leave paper trails. But again, if he's still downtown, it shouldn't take too long," said Donald McGinnis PI.

"Okay, okay just do your best. We have a very good reason for wanting to find the guy and it's for his benefit more even than mine or Claire's, okay," he said.

"Okay, you got it," he said, "I'm on it."

The two men parted the one to hunt the other to wait.

******

He pulled into the parking structure of their condo's building and breathed a frustrated sigh. Patience was not Rodney Pollard's forte, no indeed. But, patience was the requirement for the time being. Donald would find their man, but he had a sick feeling that it might be a while in the doing and that was that.

"So you've got Don on it," said Claire, as her man came into the kitchen. She knew he'd had a meeting with their friend that day.

"Yes, he's on it, and he'll find him. But when is the question," he said, as he set his briefcase down on the kitchen counter. She nodded her understanding.

"Okay, so I guess now we wait. Regardless of when he finds him we still have the little problem of how to handle things. Boy, it's going to be one heckuva scene when he finds out he's a daddy who's never even seen his child. I mean a scene," she said.

"I'm her daddy too, don't forget," he said. She took on a shocked look.

"Oh my!" she said. "Honey of course you are. I never thought anything else and you know that."

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"You are the best daddy in the world," she said coming up to him and kissing him. "I mean the best. Our friend is the sperm donor, and he'll get to see his child, and I hope he wants to. But, as for who the real daddy is, it's you."

"Honey," he said. "There's another potential problem that we haven't much discussed."

"Problem?" she said.

"Yes, she doesn't know about any of this. She's too young to explain it to her. But, at some point she'll have to be in the know about it all. She's not quite six years-old, and like I said too young to understand it all, but he may want to be called daddy. He may want… heck I don't know what he's going to want," he said.

"Yes, until we've been able to sit him down and actually have a coherent conversation with him we just won't have any way to know how to deal with the situation. But Larabee has said we're in the clear here on most levels regardless, so I'm going with his estimation of things. We'll be generous with our Jimmy. Hell, we've tried to be generous with him all along. But this situation is going to require some finesse on our parts," she said.

"Damn straight it is," he said, "damn straight!"

******

The two men were sitting where they usually sat when tilting them back. "Hey, Jackie, another round over here, okay?" he said, loud enough so the flirty little offspring of Venus could hear and understand.

"So you talked to them, told them what you found out," said Henry.

"Not them, just the guy, Pollard, but yeah, I told him I'd keep them in the loop, so I have," said Sammy. His friend nodded.

"Whaddya think they'll do?" said Henry.

"They'll find him, talk to him, maybe convince him to get his ass in gear. The man needs to get with the program. He can't just mope around forever. Ain't no woman worth that much pain," he said.

"You guys gonna run a tab, or am I just gonna continue to collect for each separate round," said Jackie.

"Yeah, yeah run one," said Henry, "we're gonna to be here a while." The girl nodded, turned, and noted their choice on the pad by the register behind the bar. She meandered her way down the bar and got them their second round.

"Yeah, he does have to get it together. You did right cluing the cheaters," said Henry. "For sure they can't do any worse than we did in trying to get the guy to be doing things right."

"It may be that he's mellowed a little over this last year or so," said Sammy. "I mean if he's been hanging out at the Salvation Army kitchen and maybe the chapel; he might have found religion or something. Jesus I hope so. He's needs to find support from more than just you and me."

The other man laughed. "Well, stranger things have happened than a man finding Jesus to save himself from himself. I mean oh yeah!" said Henry.

"Yeah right," said Sammy. "But, who knows maybe you are right. I sure hope so. He's my friend, had my back a few times over the years. I want him to survive, I really do. And from what I saw, when I watched him go into that kitchen the other day, he's not doin' too good, not too good at all."

"Well, all we can do is the best we can do. The man does have to do some of the heavy lifting himself; it can't all be just us doin' it," said Henry.

"You're right. But the women, they got us guys by the short hairs and there's not a damn thing we can do about it," said Sammy.

"I hear yuh," said Henry.

"You know I just had an idea," said Sammy.

"An idea?" said Henry.

"Yeah, here we are yakkin' about him goin' to church and all. But well, we don't actually know if he is, has, whatever; but if he hasn't maybe we could arrange it so that he does. Or even better have some church guy come to him. Whaddya think?" said Sammy.

******

"He found him!" said Rodney. She looked at him; his message registered, she squeaked some unintelligible noises. Then…

"My God, or rather thank God!" she said.

"Yes, it was a tough go. He'd apparently actually been out of town. Evidently him and couple of other guys down on their luck trooped it up to Littleton. Better places to shack up there I guess, that's the word that Donald passed along to me. But they're back now all three of them. They kind of watch each other's backs if Don has it right. Anyway, I've got the location. We can go there tomorrow," he said.

"Oh my yes," she said. "Where exactly is it that they live; I mean now?"

"In a truck park near Third and Main. Six or eight blocks from the kitchen. They shack up in the back of a covered loading dock. Don says they act as unofficial unpaid security for the foreman there. The foreman is an ex-con who used to be on the streets himself. Don was asking around, and he's the one who tipped him as to where to find our guy," he said.

"My oh my, so this is it," she said, "almost three years."

"Yes, this is it, and I'm nervous," he said. She nodded her understanding.

******

They were early, very early; it was a little after 6:00; the sun wasn't even officially up yet though the glow of its impending arrival pretty well lighted their surroundings. They were parked a hundred yards up the street from the kitchen. He tilted back his McCoffee and sipped the steaming liquid. She was holding hers as if to keep her hands warm.

"If he's coming here to eat, it shouldn't be too long a wait," he said.

"How are we going to do this?" she said.

"Honey, just like we planned. We'll wait for him to go in. Give him a few minutes to get his food, and then follow him inside and trap him between us," he said. "Hopefully the morning rush will be delayed long enough for us to make our case and then, if there is a God, we'll all, all three of us, go home."

"And if he refuses to go home with us which frankly I think is as likely as not even considering the information we'll be sharing with him," said Claire.

"Then, it's plan-B," he said. "We write him off and get on with our lives. No more of this moping around through life waiting for that erstwhile brother of mine and ex-husband of yours to get it together."

She nodded. "Okay, I guess that's the best we can do," she said.

"Yes, yes it is," he said, "and this time I mean it."

"I love you Rodney. You're a good man," she said.

"And, I love you too dear heart, never doubt it," he said. She smiled and nuzzled up against him.

He raised his binoculars to his eyes and peered through them. "It's him," he said. "And he looks fucking emaciated and scruffy. Here, look," he said. He handed her the field glasses.

"Oh my God," she said. "He looks pathetic. There's a couple of guys trailing behind him but close, must be his back up." He nodded.

"Yeah, that's likely," he said.

They watched as the trio of men walked inside the structure. Other men and a couple of women seemed to suddenly materialize out of nowhere, not a lot but quite a number at all events.

"Rod, let me do this one alone. Seeing you… " she started. He looked her askance.

"Okay," he said, finally. "But if you're in there for any length of time…"

"Yes, then come and rescue me," she said.

"He pulled the car up closer to the doorway. She got out and headed inside. She was dressed down for this potential meet up, no use rubbing her prosperity in the noses of the local clientele.

She spotted her prey sitting against the far wall at a four person table. The coffee urns were but a few feet away from where he sat. She was wearing a beanie and sunglasses. She made the decision to get a cup of coffee as a prop for her meeting with her ex; she could tell he didn't notice her though she was but a few feet away from him at that point.

Coffee in hand, she took the seat immediately next to him at the little table.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Claire? We have nothing in common anymore," I said. Oops, he had noticed her.

"Whoa, I was hoping to surprise you," she said, not unkindly.

"Fuck it! I've had quite enough of your surprises and you being here, I mean here, is humiliating," I said, "I mean humiliating! So get the fuck outta here and go have your caviar lunch and a couple of martinis with your rich pals. I ain't up to your standards."

"Oh Jimmy, I'm not here to make things hard for you, really I'm not," she said. "But, I've missed you, both of us have and I need to talk to you. It's important."

"What, you need a kidney donation from me? If not, it's not important enough for me to bother with," I said.

"No, it's bigger than that, a lot bigger," she said. "But that you'd be willing to sacrifice a kidney for me says a lot, and I appreciate it," She didn't crack a smile at her improvised attempt at comedy and neither did he. She did, however, now have his undivided attention.

"Jimmy, you know I have a daughter, right?" she said.

"Of course," I said. "Got that piece of info from the mouth of my ex-best friend himself. So what? The two of you are happy I hope."

"Yes, well there's something you need to know. Something he and I found out after you disappeared from the radar almost two years ago, actually going on three now," she said.

"So, what is it I'm supposed to know? Frankly, I don't give a damn about you and your family any more than you really care about me!"

Just then two other men showed up at the table interrupting their conversation.

"Jimmy," said the taller of the two intruders.

"Yeah, Mack, Roy, this is Claire, my ex," I said. The two guys stared for a short minute.

"Oh, okay," said Roy. "We'll give you two a few minutes." The two men took their plates to a table some distance across the room.

"Nice of them," she said.

"Yeah, they're nice guys," I said, "a helluva lot nicer than you or my ex-best friend."

"Jimmy, the fact is you need to care about our family. You need to because you're a member of it in more ways than one. Jimmy, you're Rebecca's biological father," she said.

I'd been raising my cup of coffee to my lips but it never got that far. My hand with the cup still in it was frozen in space and time. I stared. I lowered my cup very slowly.

"What did you say?" I said.

"You're a daddy," she said.

"The hell you say," I said.

"It's not the kind of thing anyone would be joking about, sport, and you know it. We've wanted to tell you for the longest time, but you were nowhere to be found; well, until now," she said.

"Where's my ex-best friend," I said.

"Jimmy, he's still your best friend regardless of what you think. He'd sacrifice that kidney for you if you needed one," she said.

"Yeah, and steal my wife and family from me in the bargain. No thanks about the kidney. I'd rather die," I said.

"Jimmy, your baby, our baby, is almost six years old. You need to meet her. I know this is a shock. How could it not be. But, it is what it is and that's the long and the short of it," she said.

"A daddy you say. But you'll still be keeping the baby with you, right. I'd get to meet her and that would be that. Then I'm back here, and you're wherever you are, and that's the actual long and the short of it to use your words," I said.

"No!" she didn't quite scream. A few heads turned and noticed them. "You will not be shunted off to the side if that's what you really think. You'll be taking your place in her life just like the real daddy that you are. The both of us, Rod and me, want that for her and for you. Believe me I mean it, sir."

"I ain't got no money, nothing. I get by and it's enough for me. As for meeting the little girl, I don't know. I'm not into phony baloney fatherhoods. I know for damn sure that I would always be in the second place behind the asshole that stole you from me, and that alone would never allow me to be around the lot of you.

"I'd just be dreaming about being with her, going to the zoo with her, helping her with her homework, daddy stuff. But, I'm sure you can see that wouldn't be happening; I'm too damn poor. So thanks but no thanks," I said.

"Jimmy, that's one of the things that Rod and I want to discuss with you if you'd be willing.

"You want to do those things with your child, our child? We will make that happen. Yes, Becca will be staying with us; I'm her mother. But, that does not mean that you can't be there doing all of those things you mentioned and more. Mister, that's what we, Rod and me, want you to do, to be able to do. I know you're going to argue with me hard core, but the fact is the both of us need you to do those things with her. We want her get to know you and to grow in love for you. And yes, before you ask, she does call Rodney daddy. And as time goes on she will eventually also call you daddy. Lots of children have two moms or two dads. Rebecca will too," said Claire Pollard.

"I wanna talk to the asshole," I said. I was not being kind, but this was a loop the like of which I had not imagined I'd be thrown. "Where did you say he was?"

"He's in the car parked down the street," she said.

"You have your cell?" I said.

"Of course," she said

"Call him. Tell him to come in here. Him seeing me like this, well what the hell, a little extra humiliation won't matter all that much." She frowned, but pulled her cell from her purse and made the call.

"It'll be a couple of minutes," she said. We sipped our coffees. I hadn't eaten and hadn't wanted to, but I was beginning to get hungry.

I was never all that hungry in the morning. Semi-starving on the row had accustomed me to not eating all that much. I'd lost some forty pounds since my fall from the heights of the middle class. I was still five-six, but now I weighed in at 120 according the coin operated scale at the supermarket. I did feel good though, Slim had its advantages, and slim was what I was, okay, skinny.

I noticed him first. He was dressed a lot better than his wife. It was just now that I noticed that she was dressed kind of poor, as in no money poor. I smiled, that had to have been for me. She knew where to find me so she had to know my financial status. She was trying not to rub my nose in it. He on the other hand had no such qualms.

"You're smiling. Can I count that as a good thing?" she said. I didn't answer her; what would have been the point. He came up to us.

"Hello Jimmy," he said. "You invited me in here. Does that mean we get to talk? I mean seriously talk?" His tone was serious but also condescending; well, that's the way I read it to be.

"Some," I said. "So, she calls you daddy?"

"Jimmy if this is going to be… " he started.

"No, no, the question was rhetorical," I said. "Your wife says you have plans, or at least intentions, to include me in meaningful ways in the life of my daughter. That the truth?"

"Damn right it is. Does your question mean that you'd be willing to lighten up some on us and maybe consider being part of the family again; I do mean the three of us as well as with Rebecca?" he said.

"Not sure. Depends, I guess. I need to think about things. Maybe get back to you in a few days. That all right with you?" I said.

Rodney Pollard looked over at his wife. He was asking for her input without saying the words out loud. Interesting, I thought.

"This has to be a major shock to him," said Claire. "I think his request is more than reasonable."

"Then so do I," said Rodney. "Jim, any chance that you'd come home with us now, meet the baby, and let us help you get back on your feet? At some point I think you must realize that you'll need to be doing that."

"No, not yet, that is something, getting back on my feet, that I have to do for myself. But, as for meeting the baby, I guess at some point, soon, I'd want to be doing that if you really aren't going to be throwing up roadblocks to my being with her," I said.

"Jim, I would never do that to you and neither would Claire. Grant us that much please," he said.

"Okay, I'll come by to let you know what's what," I said. He nodded.

We talked and I learned a little more about the baby, and then they were gone. They'd no doubt be talking about the asshole, me, who just wouldn't cut them any slack. As to that there was no doubt.

CHAPTER 6:

I was standing in line, trying to squeeze in through the door; well, it was fucking cold outside, and the line meandered a hundred yards around the corner this time of day. A guy in a navy blue blazer was kinda staring at me. The blazer was one of those things the leaders in the Salvation Army wore in cold weather. I knew who he was. Didn't really know him exactly, but he'd been pointed out to me before. He was the top honcho. Why he was looking at me was a mystery. But it was looking like it might not be a mystery much longer; the man came toward me.

"Hi, Mister Clausen isn't it?" he said. "I'm Captain Traynor, I kinda run this place."

"Uh, yes, I'm Clausen. I didn't do anything wrong did I?" I said. "I knew I hadn't."

The man smiled. "No, absolutely not. But, if you could see your way clear to sit with me for a few, I'd appreciate it," he said.

I didn't know the man, but he was in charge of feeding us, us losers, so maybe I'd be well served to talk to him.

"Okay, I guess, sure," I said. He pulled me out of the line and led me out and around to the side of the building and inside. We adjourned to a smallish office in the back of the kitchen.

"Have a seat," he said, brightly. I did as he asked.

"You're probably wondering why I asked to speak with you," he said.

"That would be a good bet," I said.

"Yes, well, a couple of friends of yours put me up to it," he said.

I only had two close friends that weren't bartenders: Sammy and Henry. I knew that Rodney and Claire would likely have described themselves as my friends, but I doubted that they'd have enlisted the services of the Salvation Army to convince me of that.

"My friends?" I said.

"Yes, Henry and Sammy," he said. I sagged back in my seat. I was right. So, Sammy and Henry knew where I was too. Big surprise. One of them, or maybe both, it likely was that cued my ex-wife and her husband as to where I was living; well, if what I was about could be described as living.

"Okay?" I said.

"Well, they seemed to think that me sitting down with you might be useful. Said you'd had a tough time of it. Divorce and what all went along with it is what they said," he said.

"Reverend… " I started.

"Captain," he said.

"Huh?" I said.

"In the SA we have ranks in the army of Christ," he said. "We don't describe ourselves as being reverend or father or anything like that."

"Oh, okay, I didn't know.

?"Captain, I don't know if anything you or anyone can say would make any difference. My best friend for forever took my wife away from me. And, I just found out that the last night she and I were together I'd gotten her pregnant. And now there is a six year old little girl out there that I have never met that's mine. Kind of makes it a tough nut to get by all of that wouldn't you say?" I said.

Now, the man across from sagged back in his seat. "Wow!" he said. "I will say you do make a good case for the way you feel about your situation. Still, what's happened to you has happened to a lot of other people in times gone by; and the Lord can and does help those who come to him even with problems as large as yours, larger even."

"I appreciate your concern, uh, Captain, but I just don't know…"

"Would you do me a personal favor?" he said, interrupting me.

"A favor?" I said.

"Yes, come to chapel this Sunday. It's at 11:00am just four blocks down the street," he said. "We have a bit of social time after services too. Kind of a get to know each other time if you know what I mean."

I looked at the man as if he were nuts, but for some reason or no reason I decided to test the waters.

"I guess I could come once or twice," I said. In the back of my mind I wondered if I might actually meet a woman there who I could maybe entice into talking to me on a personal level. And another thing rolling around in the back of that same mind was a mission I was going to be on to pin a couple of friends of mine who had the unbelievable brass to set me up like this. Oh yeah!

******

Marie greeted me like some long lost relative. Well it had been a couple of years now or close to it. She let me know that my targets wouldn't be in until after 9:00pm That suited me; I would need a couple of drinks to be in shape to talk religion to the two bozos. I was looking, no doubt, kinda ragged, but she didn't pay that any apparent mind.

"Incoming," said Marie. I turned to see my two long lost buds not quite holding hands as they entered laughing. The laughing died in kind of a hurry when they saw me.

"And here they are the local evangelists," I said.

"Jimmy, how the hell are you, man," said Henry. Sammy just smirked.

"He told you didn't he," said Sam.

"If you mean Captain Traynor, why yes he did," I said, responding to his opening salvo. "He said you two were worried about my soul."

"Well, not exactly your soul, but pretty much everything else about you, yes," said Sam.

Then the word war, and then some drinking, and then the word war again was underway.

"Anyway, yes we did talk to the Captain," said Henry. "Frankly we have indeed been worried about you. You just disappeared and we had no clue how to find you until Sam here happened to see you downtown at the soup kitchen."

"Yeah well, they serve pretty good coffee," I said. "And yes, I am going to be looking for a better situation down the line, and the man has convinced me to try out his church, so I will be."

"Wow! Maybe there is hope for you," said Sammy, meaning it.

******

I'd decided, I guess, to go to church. Well, if there were a God, it might do me some good. If not, well, the food would be good at the least. And, I'd made another decision: I was going to see my daughter. Six years old she was and she'd never seen her daddy, her real daddy, just the interloper. I wondered if they had known she was mine from the beginning. According to them, not, but did I believe them. I guess I did, but the truth was I was guessing; I didn't really know. That's what lost trust will do to a person.

At any rate, it would be tough on me being around them knowing I didn't have a chance in hell of having my baby live with me, but at least they'd not be cutting me out of her life. I was pretty sure of that much. I was also sure she'd without a doubt see me as the lesser of her two daddies.

No matter what I did, I could never match up with his situation: money and mommy were his tools into the baby's heart. Me, I had poverty, no wife, and no prospects. What was to choose? Whatever the baby would think of me would be what the two cheaters wanted her to think, no more no less. Nevertheless, I'd take what I could get for the near term; I didn't figure I had any choice.

I had no cell phone, and I didn't even have their phone numbers if I had had one. I was going to have to visit them in person. And, there was a small problem there too; I didn't know exactly where they lived. She'd said something about living maybe a mile and a half from Franklin's that time I'd bumped into her in the supermarket, something called The Towers, something like that. I hadn't wanted to know where that was at the time, now I had this problem and I had to figure out a way to contact them. Then, I had it. I did know where he worked. Pollard Associates was located in the Ralston Building downtown, ninth floor if I remembered rightly; I'd been there a few times in the distant past.

******

I did have thirty-eight dollars in my pocket, saved from my clean up jobs at Marnov's. Still, I wasn't going to be using that. I'd not be taking a taxi to the man's workplace; I needed my money little as it was. Ten miles was too damn far for me to hoof it but I would be anyway; and no, I had no intention of calling his business and asking for a ride which I'm sure he would have condescended to grant me; the key word being condescended. I was taking nothing from him that wasn't mine his willingness to grant me mercy in those respects notwithstanding.

******

The walk wasn't as bad as I'd feared it would be. I'd started early and I'd made it in under four hours. I looked up at the clock on the bank building across the street when I got to the Ralston Building. It was 10:33A.M. He'd be in, I was pretty sure.

A security guard stopped me, and looked me over pretty good. Well, I was dressed in row-chic. "Name's Clausen. I'm here to see Rodney Pollard, ninth floor," I said. The guard tendered me a sour look, stepped behind a bank of monitors, picked up a phone, hit a button, and waited. He talked to somebody on the other end.

"Okay, you're cleared to see Mister Pollard," the man said. His look told me he couldn't believe it and was mildly miffed because he couldn't do anything about it. The upshot was that I was miffed because he was miffed.

I took the elevator up and stepped off and into the upscale suite of offices. Several people were milling around apparently busy making the big man richer than he already was.

"You're Mister Clausen?" said a way too old to be a receptionist, receptionist.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. The lady had to be seventy. I had to believe that she was way too good at her job to be replaceable.

"You can go right in, sir," she said, pointing to a door at the end of a very short hall. I nodded and wended my way there.

I paused at the door with my hand on the knob as second thoughts assailed me. I entered.

He rose and came around his desk to greet me. He was all smiles. I was not, all smiles that is.

"Jimmy, I am so glad you came," said Rodney Pollard. I nodded.

"Okay if I sit down," I said. "I'm kinda tired."

"Certainly, certainly," he said. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Water, I could really use a drink of water," I said. I hadn't had a drop in the whole ten mile trek. I'd left early and had forgotten to take any water with me. I could have bought something along the way, but by the time I had actually gotten thirsty, I'd decided to just tough it out and get a drink when I got to my destination.

He hurried to the back of his desk where a small refrigerator was located. He brought me a bottle of the precious liquid. I downed the whole thing in a gulp.

"Man, you were thirsty," he said.

"Yes, kinda," I said. I got right to it. "I decided to take you up on your offer to let me see my little girl," I said. His face showed a slight change in attitude when I said what I'd said.

"Problem?" I said. "I mean you've changed your mind?"

"No, no, of course not," he said, recovering his smile before it became grossly evident that he'd really rather have scowled; well, that's how I read things.

"I wouldn't have bothered you here, but I didn't have any way to contact you and I don't know where you live," I said. Something seemed to occur to him.

"You didn't know… oh my God," he said. "We didn't give you any of that when we met at the kitchen did we! Jimmy, I had no idea. I just assumed. I didn't think! Oh my God." Something else seemed to have occurred to him just as I set the empty water bottle on his desk top.

"Jimmy, how did you get here?" he said.

"I knew where you worked of course. I was here a few times in the distant pass if you'll remember," I said.

"No, no, I know that. What I meant was how did you get here: car, bus, what?" he said.

"Walked," I said. He walked back behind his desk and fell into his swivel throne.

"Sweet Jesus! That had to be ten miles anyway," he said.

"No big deal," I said, "don't make it big deal, okay," I said. He nodded, but he did so slowly, meaningfully.

"You won't be walking back," he said, "and that is an absolute fact. Okay?" he said. I wanted to tell him that I'd do my own transporting, but the truth was I wasn't sure that I could make it; ten miles, okay, but twenty on the same day? Not real likely. I shrugged my surrender.

He wrote something down on a post it and handed it to me. Our numbers and our address," he said. You can come any time, but you best call first in case we'd not be home. Is that all right with you?" I nodded.

"Yeah, sure, that's fine," I said. "Well that's all I came to say. I just need you to tell me when you will allow me to see her. I'll come then."

"Jimmy, you can come whenever you want, but for this first time, how about right now, today," he said. I had not expected that.

"I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion," I said.

"She's only six, Jim, Your dress will not be a factor," he said. I had to allow that his logic was pretty nearly irrefutable.

"Well, okay, I guess. I mean if you will allow," I said.

The odd thing, though we'd been talking, neither of us had offered to shake hands or offer much of anything in the way of polite greetings or the like.

"Allow has nothing to do with it, Jim, you'll be welcome any time. I just ask that you call first as I mentioned. Okay?" he said.

"Yeah, yeah sure," I said. He gave me a look that spelled frustration. The whole meet up was kinda surreal, oddly informal and surreal."

******

The ride to the Crown Towers took us a good twenty minutes. I didn't have a watch, but there was a clock on the fancy Cadillac dashboard.

"Nice ride," I said. He just looked over at me and telegraphed me a smile.

"Thanks.

"There it is," he said, finally. I nodded.

"Nice," I said. "Nice car, nice place, nice wife." His expression changed.

He parked in the structure designed for the purpose which was conveniently adjacent to the main building.

"Come on," he said. We rode the elevator to the penthouse.

The Otis stopped on the tenth floor. "We're here," he said. Before he opened the door to his place-which was directly across from the elevator-yes manually, he gave me a heads up.

"Jim, Claire doesn't know we're coming. She'll maybe do or say something that might not be what she'd do or say if she did know. Okay?" he said.

"Yeah, I get it," I said. He nodded.

"Okay, let's do it," he said. We crossed the mini-hallway to their door, the only door on the floor.

We entered right into the atrium and he led the way into the receiving room of the, as I found out later, the two level eight thousand square foot residence.

"Hi honey," she said, rushing to him but stopping short as she saw me. "Jimmy!"

"Yeah, it's me, the other daddy," I said. I was being unnecessarily snide, I suppose, but I was so jealous that helping it was not happening.

"Rodney, you could have called," she said, and it was an accusation.

"It was spur of the moment," he said. "He walked to the office. I made the decision to make this happen then and there. I didn't want our well-loved family member slipping away from us again. Anyway, like I said, it was spur of the moment." She nodded her understanding and agreement with his reasoning.

"Yes, you did good," she said.

"You look nice, Claire, very nice," I said.

"Thank you, Jim, that's very nice of you to say," she said. "She's in the den."

"But Rod, did you say he walked to the office, your office?" she said.

"Yes, ten miles worth. And oh, I saved his life, I let him tank up on water as soon as I knew. Well, he was really thirsty," said Rodney Pollard.

"Still doing crazy stuff huh, Jimmy," she said.

"It was no big deal," I said.

"Jim, it is a big deal. You could have called. We would have come for you. Anything," she said.

"Didn't have your numbers or your address. But, I do now. Your husband gave them to me before we left the office," I said. Her hand went to her mouth.

"Oh my! Jimmy, I didn't think. I mean I thought!" she said.

"Like I said, it was no big deal. I walk everywhere, I'm used to it. Lost those love handles that nobody loves too," I said. She smirked.

"Yeah, well maybe I'll do a little of what you've been doing one of these days," she said.

"Yeah, you need to lose both of those extra pounds," I said. My attempt at humor got a smirk from my old bud, Rodney.

"Jim, can I ask, are you hungry?" she said. "Would you like to eat and maybe talk a little before you meet your daughter? Or…?"

"No, I'm good. I'd just like to meet my baby," I said. "I mean if it's all right with you guys." I was beginning to get emotional; I could feel it. I was also frightened. I didn't look good. I looked awful and tired and poor. I was actually afraid of scaring my baby. I didn't want to do that. I had a thought.

"Are you sure?" she said.

"Well, maybe I could borrow a clean shirt if that wouldn't be too much trouble," I said.

"Done," he said. "I got a couple that are bit too small, we can make do. Okay?"

"You're way too big for me, Rodney. But maybe one of hers, you know she's gotta have something kind of generic, right?" I said. I got a look from the both of them.

"Look, I stink. I know it. I only weigh around one-twenty. Just something generic that's a neutral color that doesn't actually scream female… " My ex-wife nodded.

"Yes, I've got something. It's actually a boy's-man's-shirt I got for trips to the park and such," she said.

"Two minutes later I was wearing one of her T-shirts, navy blue, and it was a boy's, and it fit. It was the first new, or near new, anything I'd put on in a long time. Neither of them snickered that I was wearing something that was bought for a woman.

"Come on, introductions are the order of the day," said Rodney.

I was led down the hall and into the den. A small girl, with hazel eyes, my eyes, was playing with a toy, an action figure of all damn things. I could feel myself begin to cry. I had to stop that nonsense right fucking now!

I pulled a dirty napkin from my pocket and wiped away the evidence.

"Honey," said Claire, "I need you to meet someone." The little girl turned and smiled at her mother. I looked around behind me, Rodney was gone. It was clear he was giving me the floor for the moment at least. Much as I viscerally hated the man, I had to appreciate what he was doing for me. I would never forgive him for stealing my wife and my life, but at least he wasn't trying to make me look bad on this first moment with my baby girl, that was something.

"Hi," I said, in my most tentative voice.

"Hello sir," she said. God she was beautiful. She would be the mirror image of the most beautiful woman in the world, her mother, one day that was plain as hell!

"You are so pretty," I said. "Is that Captain America?"

"Yes sir, he's my favorite," she said in perfect English.

"Mine too," I said.

"Honey, do you think you could keep our guest company for a bit while I cook lunch?" said Claire Pollard.

"Uh-huh," said Rebecca. My ex-wife didn't even wait for my okay. She just turned and did a disappearing act, just as her husband had done minutes gone.

The two cheaters left me alone with my baby for the best part of an hour and a half. But inevitably, they both returned and announced that lunch was ready and enquired if we, the two of us, Rebecca and me, would join them in the dinette.

******

Macaroni and cheese, well, everybody loves mac and cheese. We ate the whole makings up. I didn't realize till later that I had eaten the greatest portion of it. Nobody said anything. I guess it was clear to the two of them that I was undernourished and hungry Salvation Army soup kitchen notwithstanding.

Lunch consumed the best part of an hour. It was 2:00pm before we were using our cloth napkins to clean the detritus from our faces.

"Honey, it's nap time for you," said her mother.

"Okay," screamed my daughter who literally jumped down form her chair and ran from the room and to her bedroom. Rodney followed her.

"He's going to tuck her in," said Claire.

"She's so beautiful. I'm grateful that you let me meet her today. It means a lot," I said.

"You can be around her whenever you need to," said Claire. I nodded.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll try to get some decent clothes soon, so that I won't be looking ridiculous when you let me see her again."

"Jimmy, can you and I talk for a little bit," said Claire.

"Talk?" I said. Her tone caused me to worry about what she might be wanting to say to me.

"Yes, I think we need to, don't you?" she said. I shrugged. I didn't want to be around her, but I guess she was right; some things likely had to be settled though in truth I didn't know what those things were. I soon did.

She led me back into the receiving room. She indicated that I should sit. I did as she told me. She sat across from me. I noticed that Rodney had once again disappeared. He'd apparently taken a powder right after he'd tucked the baby in.

"Where's Rodney?" I said.

"He went back to work. Frankly, Jimmy, he's trying his best to make things easy for you. I think you need to appreciate at least that much," she said. Her tone was almost accusatory. I was getting a very hinky feeling, but I kept my mouth shut of the moment. I did nod.

"Thank you," she said.

"You said you wanted to talk," I said, finally. My tone was level. I guess my defenses were up, something.

"Jimmy, like both Rodney and I have said, we would be happy to have you come and be around your daughter, our daughter, whenever it's convenient for you. That said, I hope you understand that Rodney is her daddy too, just as much as you are. Am I clear?" she said.

I could feel my face cloud up. "Yeah, I get it," I said. "He's her daddy. I got it."

"Yes, and that's something that all of us need to be clear on. I don't want to be, well, confusing Rebecca," she said.

I swallowed trying not to choke on my own spittle. "Sure," I said, "I understand. Can I ask what will you want her to call me? I mean…"

"That's something I've done something thinking on," she said. "I think for the time being, maybe just your name, Mister Jimmy. Would that be all right by you?" I didn't answer, but I did nod in the affirmative.

I think she was beginning to realize that her tone and her words were putting a sword through my heart. This was my ex-wife, the woman I had loved, and still did, more than my life. The woman who, with me, had created the baby now sleeping in the back room. I was being shunted off to the side. I would have some rights, but only those approved by her and him of course.

"Sure," I said. "No confusing the baby. I got it."

"Jimmy, I didn't mean to upset you just now, did I upset you?" she seemed genuinely concerned that she'd gone too far. She had gone too far, but the irony was that her plan to not confuse our baby actually made sense. If she had asked me to suggest something, some name for our baby to call me, I would have come up with something not unlike what she was mandating.

"No, no, I'm grateful to you for letting see her. It was good. Everything is good," I said. My eyes were clouding up again, I could feel them. I had to get out of there and I had to get out of there muy pronto.

"Jimmy, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to upset you. You have rights too. I am fully aware of that," she said. "If you have another idea some other way, you know to not confuse our baby. I'd be happy to consider it. Okay?" she said.

"No, no we'll do it your way. You know best I'm sure," I said.

"Okay, if you're sure," she said. "I'll be back in a minute. I'll get us a bottle of wine to celebrate this little reunion. Okay?" I nodded. This was my chance. Just as she disappeared down the hall I slipped out; I took the stairs. I had to get back to town. But it was thirty miles off now.

I'd spotted a 7-11 nearby as we came in. I headed for it. I was going to have to use my thirty-eight bucks to get me a cab. I had no choice. Fuck! I was going to be broke until a week from Friday, nine days away. Fuck!

I was able to get a cab: the guy at the store let me use his phone. I was still wearing her T-shirt. Damn, I needed the one I'd come in with, and now I had no money to even get me a new shirt.

I figured it would be a while before I'd get to be seeing my baby again, so I guess buying myself a new shirt and maybe even a newer pair of pants could wait a little. The SA thrift store might have something for me. The store was next door to the chapel. I was going to be there, at the Chapel this coming Sunday. I'd look in the store then for something and have them hold it for me till payday. I figured I could get that much outta going to church; I was pretty sure I could anyway. I had the cabby drop me near the truck park, my home, and where I kept my stuff-hidden of course.

CHAPTER 7:

"What! He just disappeared! What!" said Rodney.

"Yes, I went into the back to get something. When I came back, he was gone. It was my fault I guess," she said. She had a sheepish look about her.

"Claire? Is there something else?" he said.

"Maybe, she squeaked. We, I, suggested that we needed to be careful about confusing the baby. I suggested that the baby call him by his name for the time being. Just for the time being, Rodney, I swear, I didn't mean to hurt the guy. Honest," she sobbed.

"What? I'm not clear here. What do you mean?" he said. "What exactly did you say that he objected to? He did object to something right?"

"I suggested, you know that, we have the baby call him Mister Jimmy. I thought it would be best for now, rather than have her call him dad or daddy so soon. You know so as not to confuse her," she said.

"That doesn't sound so bad to me?" he said. "Did he understand that it would not be that way forever, just until the baby was ready to learn the whole thing?"

"I don't know. I guess not. When I thought back to it, what I said, I guess it was my tone more than the words. I just don't know," she said.

"Tone?" he said.

"Well, I kinda made it sound like it had to be the way I wanted it to be, suggested it be," she said. "He may have thought I was, well, pushing him into some kind of second class daddyhood or something. In fact I'm sure that what he thought, erroneously thought," she said.

"Fuck!" he said. "He may never come back now. We have to fix this and fix it now or it's over for all of us. Claire, he's just not ready to face up to any negativity.

"How did he get home? Surely he didn't just walk back thirty-five miles to the row," he said.

"I don't know. He just walked out. I don't know how he could have walked. If he had some money maybe he took a cab, but I just don't know, really," she said.

"If he did it was probably his last bucks. Look I'm going to try and track him down. Maybe give him back his cab fare if he took one if he'll even accept it which I doubt. Do something. Okay.

"Look, I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll call if I'm going to be gone too long. Okay?" he said.

"Yes, good that's good," she said. "And do call. I will be waiting for your call."

"I will," he said. He grabbed his keys and coat and hurried out.

******

If he'd taken a cab, he would already be back on the street, he thought, and maybe at that truck park that Don had said he was shacked up at when not cruising the boulevard.

It was a Wednesday, but it was late in the day; the gates to the truck park would likely be locked up tight, But if his quarry could get in so could he; well, he hoped he could.

The drive had taken almost forty-five minutes; well, the traffic at 6:00pm was always problematical. He saw the park off to the right and at the end of an industrial cul-de-sac. He also saw a man, not his man, moving about inside. He wasn't sure, but he thought it might be one of his bud's associates on the row. He parked and approached the fence. He could see how they got in. The fence was partly separated from the post it had been attached to. He called to the man.

The man approached and looked him up and down recognition seemed to register with him.

"You were with the woman, Jim's old lady, ex-old lady," he said.

"Yes, I'm the asshole that took her from him. Name's Rod. Any chance that James is around?" he said.

"Yeah, he's cold. He's huddled up in the back. If you can crawl under there, I'll take you to him, said the man whose name, he now remembered, was Mack.

"I'm Mack. I got Jim's back. Bear it in mind," he said.

"Okay. But I'm not here to cause the man any problems really," said Rodney. The other man nodded.

******

I saw him coming before he saw me. I thought about just cutting country and leaving the park. But it was cozy at night and I didn't have any place else to go that was worth a damn. Besides this was my house. No penthouse for sure, but it was mine not his. I wasn't gonna be doing the leaving he was.

He finally saw me and came up to the niche I'd carved out for myself in the back of the overhang.

"Whaddya here for, Rodney? Slumming?" I said.

"Jim, you know that's not so. Any chance you'd have a cup of coffee with me," he said.

"Yeah sure, just let me put on the coffee in the kitchen back there and we'll adjourn to my study. How's that," I said. I was so humiliated him seeing me like this that I couldn't help but be snotty and snide.

"Jim, please. The diner down the street in ten. Okay?" he said. Oddly he didn't wait for me to respond. He just turned and headed back toward the fence.

The Rooster, was a seriously greasy, greasy spoon that only the most desperate of hungry losers like me would ever eat at. But well, the coffee was pretty much generic, so nothing was going to be lost by having a cup with my favorite asshole in the whole world. I followed him, but not too closely.

He was already seated when I arrived. He even had the coffees poured and waiting.

******

"I'm paying," he said. "So no false pride bullshit, okay?" I shrugged. He'd be paying for damn sure. I sure as hell couldn't afford it, not even a cup of coffee. I did have three dollars left in my pocket, but that was strictly for emergencies, not for luxuries like coffees at the Rooster.

"If you can afford it," I said.

"No problem big guy. I'm fucking rich. I could help make you rich too if you'd let me. But you'd have to have half a brain to allow me to do something that big for you, oh, and a helluva lot less false pride," he said.

Trading barbs like we were kind of reminded me of earlier times before all of the betrayals and lies and hurt.

"Yeah, well all of the hurt and betrayal kind of gets in the way of all that," I said. "I will admit to thinking about your offers when the nights really get cold. But, my buds would also have to be getting rich before I would abandon them. They're honest and true to me. You know, unlike you and the woman," I said.

"Boy oh boy, she really stung you today, didn't she? She didn't mean to, Jim. Really she didn't," he said.

"Forget it. I will," I said. I wouldn't forget it of course, but it seemed like the smart thing to say at the moment. He nodded.

"You gonna keep coming around to see the baby, your baby?" he said. Now he was getting serious.

"You mean is 'Mister Jimmy' going to be coming around to see the baby who isn't supposed to let on that it's his baby?" I said.

"Jimmy, she screwed up. She didn't mean to. It's all uncharted territory this. She was just trying, I don't know, to get things organized in a useful way."

"Hmm," I said which was the same as saying nothing.

"Look, if I have my way this little confab might last a while. Can I get you something, I mean even a donut?" he said. I laughed.

"Look around you. Do you think that even a loser like me would be eating anything they serve in here?" I said.

"Actually, yes," he said, smiling.

"Touché," I said. "Fact is I've eaten here lots. But it was always against my better judgment."

"Going back to something you said a few minutes ago," he said.

"What?" I said.

"That you'd consider taking a hand up from me if I included your buds. That a true thing?" he said. I looked at him hard.

"Let's talk about something else, okay. I'm not into making decisions for other people today. And, in any event I just can't be around the woman on any level not required by law or basic humanity, not anymore, not after today," I said.

"Man, so you are actually thinking of shining your daughter on! I mean because of my wife's dumb remarks. That right?" he said. I didn't answer him immediately, I just stared at him.

"Not sure," I said, finally.

"Fuck!" he said, loud enough to garner some stares from the few diners in attendance around us.

"I don't know, Rodney. It was pretty clear to me that she really doesn't want me to have any influence or any say when it comes to my daughter. Oh yeah, very clear to me. And, like she said, and I agree with her on this one, she didn't want me to be confusing the baby, my baby girl. I would never do that not on purpose," I said. "Her assuming I would or even might, hurt a lot." My tone was earnest, not bitter, but earnest. I wanted him to take the message home to his woman; that was important to me.

"Jim, I can see where you're coming from. It must be a little bit scary you coming so late into the baby's life and all. It has to leave you feeling vulnerable. By the same token she-no I'm going to say it-we are a little bit scared too. We've become used to a certain way of acting, believing, doing, all of it and really would have a tough time adjusting to any major changes in our situation. And it's not you so much as us.

"I'm gonna ask you, no beg you, to do some stuff you shouldn't have to do, Jim," he said.

"Like what?" I said.

"Jim, one: I need you to be there in the baby's life, be around. How much will be your choice totally. Claire and I will support whatever it is and how so much ever it is that you decide. We owe you that, yes we do. Two, you gotta cut my wife some slack. She's consumed with guilt over what she did to you, what we did to you; and she is mortally afraid that in your anger that you might try to use the baby as a weapon to get even with us. Truth is I worry a little about that too. Can you understand where I'm coming from, Jimmy. I really need you to," he said.

I had to admit he was being very persuasive. Everything he said was right on. Of course I wasn't sure about his opinion of how my ex was thinking. But, it made sense at least on some level that he knew what he was talking about, so maybe. Still that said, if he hadn't stolen my wife from me, I wouldn't be coming so late into my babies life; I'd have been there from the git go, and he wouldn't. But, even having only been with my kid for a very short time; I found myself attached to her, go figure. I made a decision.

"Rodney, okay. I'll try to cooperate. You make a good case. But, on my side of the deal I need you to talk to her and make sure she really is willing to allow me access to my baby. If I'm going to be running into roadblocks every which where; then, I will just opt out. I do not need any more of what I've so far had to deal with. I mean any more of it," I said.

"Understood and done. Do you have any notion of when you might be coming over again?" he said.

"No, I'll let you know. I have your numbers I will call. Okay if I call you at work?" I said. What I didn't say was that I didn't want to be talking to her on the phone, making arrangements with her on the phone. I was still afraid at least to some degree that he did not have it right about her attitude. But, that said, we'd be seeing.

"Okay, I think maybe we're at a place where we can start normalizing things. Is there anything else you have in mind you'd like me to consider or relate to her or what all?" he said.

"No, not really. Well, maybe one little thing. I still have her shirt. I'll wash it and have it back to her soonest," I said. My ex-bud snickered.

"Jimmy, I'm rich. I can afford a fucking T-shirt. Forget it. I can assure you she has," he said.

"Whatever," I said.

******

And there was morning and evening of the next day.

I did wash the shirt and stored it in a plastic bag from the grocery store to return to her as soon as I next saw my daughter. I had tentatively made plans to see her as soon as I could get some clothes and figure out about a ride to get over to their house without having to walk thirty some miles. I really didn't want to do that, and I sure didn't want them to give me a ride.

It was about a month later that I made the call, and I did make it to Rod at his business, not to her. But, I made it from the 7-11 near their house. I had made $257 that month and I was flush. The cab ride was $30 plus a three dollar tip. I'd cabbed it to the 7-11 and made the call.

"Yes, yes… No, like I said, I have transportation. Don't want anyone putting themselves out for me. I mean it… Okay, you're sure she won't mind… I mean it is kind of short notice… Okay then, good," I said, hanging up.

During the month I had had no less than two visits from my ex-bud offering me and my cohorts jobs. But, I was taking nothing from him that wasn't mine. I was sending the message that he should never have taken from me what was mine if he was so worried about how I would react to his deeds. Whether my message was getting through to him or not was a question, but I had no control over that; I just did what I could and that was it.

I was sure she'd be welcoming me with open arms. I mean Rod had assured me that that would be the case, but I was still a little skittish. My hope was that she would leave me and my little girl alone; but, I figured that the chances of that being the case would be long odds for sure. I wondered what he'd told her of our conversation. It figured that he'd told her all about it, but who knew.

She'd buzzed me up as soon as I'd hit the intercom. She answered the door before I even knocked.

"Hi, Jimmy. It is so good to see you again," she said. "Rod told me you were in the neighborhood and would be by soon. I've kind of been lying in wait for you."

"Oh okay," I said.

"The baby is asleep, but she should be waking very shortly. She's been down for over an hour already; she never naps for more than two hours," said Claire.

"Oh, okay. I didn't know. Rodney didn't clue me," I said.

"No, and I didn't want him to. The plan is that whenever you want to be here, you can be here, period," she said.

"Whatever works," I said. "It's kind of hard to get here too often I don't have much money and the cabs, well, you know, they're kind of expensive."

"I know you don't want to hear it, but we'd pick you up, Jim, and that's an open offer. Just say the word. I also know that Rod has offered you, and I hear some of your friends, jobs; he has influence in a lot of places. You should accept his offer, Jim, you deserve it and we owe it to you at the least," she said.

"No, no I do for myself. I don't need no handouts," I said. "I'm doing fine. I'm looking for a good job and when I find it I will be over more, I mean if you will allow, but for now this is about the best I can do."

"Well, okay, I am under orders from the man to not pressure you, so I've said what I'm going to say. Please consider the offers regardless, okay," she said. "Oh, and of course we will allow any visitation you want."

I didn't even respond to her last. It sounded like she was making the statement that it was within her power, or theirs, to allow or deny my visitation. Which of course was sure as hell the fact of the matter, but it still stung hearing it.

"Sure, whatever you say," I said. "I know I have to let you make the rules and all. I know it's a matter of the practicality of things. No problem for me." She gave me a frustrated look.

"Jim, I know I upset you the last time you were here. I didn't mean to. But, after I thought about it, after you left, I realized that I had. I am very sorry for that and I apologize," she said.

"No, no, no apology necessary. You've done a great job raising our baby. I'm not going to be making any waves," I said.

"Look let's have some lunch, okay," she said. "I know you must be hungry." I shrugged. I was a little hungry, hadn't eaten since breakfast at 7:00A.M.

We were seated at the dinette table munching on boiled eggs and tuna sandwiches. They tasted real good too. She ate but mostly she watched me eat. I think she wanted to ask me if I was hungry all of the time on the row, and while a truthful answer would have been yes, I would have lied in technicolor had she asked.

The baby awoke just as we finished up eating. I offered to do the dishes, but she pooh-poohed that idea. And went to get the baby and deliver her to me.

"Hello Mister Jimmy," she said, when they appeared in the receiving room where I had stationed myself. I noted that Claire took on a sheepish look when she called me Mister Jimmy. I tried not to telegraph my discomfort at the name, title, whatever it was.

"Well, and hello to you too," I said, in my best Mister Jimmy voice.

And the meeting was on! Claire did give us some time alone. I counted that as a benefit. But, the fact was, after thinking about it, that I really wanted her to be with me so we could share our baby together. But no, that privilege would be reserved for my rival, my victorious rival. I'd get to be with my baby all right, on a limited basis, but I would be with her alone, never with my ex-wife. That fact bothered me. It bothered me a lot! I was going to ask Claire about it. I knew I'd have to ask kind of obliquely, but I was going to ask.

It was maybe an hour later when the inevitable happened.

"Mister Jimmy, I need to go to the bathroom," said Rebecca.

"Well, then we need you to go," I said. "Do you go by yourself?"

"Yes sir," she said.

Claire had to have been waiting in earshot. Because she was in there with us as soon as the baby asked to go potty.

"I'll take care of this duty," said Claire. I nodded my surrender. "Uh-James, will you be staying for dinner?" The baby was already running down the hallway to the bathroom.

I could tell by her tone that she didn't want me to. I think my facial expression showed it.

"We'd like you to," she said.

"No, no, I won't be a bother to you Claire. I'll be going. Thank you for your hospitality and for letting me be with our child," I said.

"Jimmy, don't be like that, really. I know Rod would love you to stay. Please do stay," she said.

"No, but Claire, I do have a request," I said.

"Okay?" she said. Her tone verily oozed suspicion.

"Yes, is there some reason that you don't stay in the room with us when I'm here. I mean you are her mom and I am her dad. It would be nice if you did. You know so we could maybe one day get to the point where it wouldn't be out of line for her to learn that she had two daddies," I said

I could see I hit a nerve.

"Jim, I don't think… " she started.

"Oh, okay," I said interrupting her. "I'll be leaving then. Have a good evening." I turned and walked out. She didn't say anything more nor try to stop me. It would be the last time I would see any of them for a long time, and when I did it would be a whole different kettle of fish.

******

"Say that again," said Rodney Pollard.

"He wanted me to be in the room with them when he visits. He wants to work up to having her call him daddy too," she said. "I'm not at a place where I can do that. You're her real daddy, not Jimmy, good guy that he is. That is your place not his. He can be a close friend a well-loved uncle, but a daddy, no."

He nodded, but he was not at all sure of that he agreed with her. He loved and appreciated the truth that she saw him not his ex-BFF as the baby's real daddy, but inside he knew it wasn't right, him hogging all the important stuff wasn't right.

******

"Oh hi Jenna," said Claire.

"Yea, hi, thought I'd stop by. So the bio-dad made an appearance," she said.

"Yes, second one in a month. But, I don't know; it didn't go all that well. He wants her to think of him as daddy. He wants to be 'the' daddy, the main daddy. I'm not letting that happen. Rod's got that job and that's the end of it," said Claire.

"What's the difference, Claire. She's going to find out anyway sooner or later. You can just make it so you control the 'when later'. This way things you don't like could happen down the line," said Jenna.

"No, no daddyhood for Jimmy. And I'll tell you why. One day she's gonna go to high school and then to college, and it's Rod who will dance with her at all of those father-daughter dos. Also, one day she's going to get married; it'll be Rod that walks her down the aisle. It'll be Rod who gets the honor of having her name her baby after him if it's a boy. I mean you get the idea? I do not want to be running into a ton of emotional controversy. I need my baby to be happy and safe and unconfused.

"Yes, she'll sooner or later likely discover that he was her sperm donor, but when that happens it will only be in a clinical sense not an emotional one. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, if you think that's best," said Jenna.

"I do," said Claire.

"One question," said Jenna.

"And that would be?" said Claire.

"Is Rod of the same mind as you in all of this?" she said.

"Yes. I think he feels a little sorry for the guy. In fact I know he does, but I am going to be the strong one here. And don't think that it's all that easy for me either. I know I hurt the guy when I left him. And, I will go to my grave regretting that, but it is what it is and that the end of it," she said. Her friend nodded.

CHAPTER 8:

Three years and no contact with any of them. Would I have loved to see my baby grow and become the woman I knew she's going to be? Of course I would, but the woman, the woman who used to be my woman, wasn't going to let that happen. That was clear to me, so dropping out of their lives was the right thing to do, and really, my only option. There was no way that I could deal with the heartache I knew would be coming, that on top of the heartache I was already beset with. No, I had to be gone and so I was.

Besides, I liked Littleton. It was far enough away from the black hats that I didn't have to worry about a visit from my used to be best friend. That's all I wanted: for him and them the lot of them to leave my ass alone. The good news? They had. And thank God for it!

I was working at the Shadows. It was small, it was clean, and it was my kind of place. The pay wasn't worth a damn but in every other respect it worked for me. I did the cleanup and a bit of security guard duty in the wee smalls. I had a room in the back that I had gratis the management. It was warm, and it was small, and it was mine, and I only had to go eleven feet to get to work each day. Yeah, there is indeed an upside to everything.

I did hear that the man had been looking for me. That was a week gone. He'd actually come into the bar, but Harold, my boss, knew that I did not want to be bothered by anybody from the old neighborhood. Harold respected my privacy; I loved Harold.

The kid would be eight or nine years old now, I knew. I was pretty sure that she didn't know that I was her daddy. There'd have been no upside for the woman to be telling her, so I was certain that I was little more than a fading memory by now if even that. I snickered to myself. So much for granting me unrestricted access to my baby, my daughter.

I had finally gotten my head out of my ass. I still drank but no longer at Olympian levels. And I had a place to stay, a regular income, and the prospect of getting me a small apartment in the not too distant future: I figured maybe a few more months. Hell, the way things were looking maybe I'd get to the point where I could give the moneyman a run for his money! Wouldn't that be the cat's meow.

******

"It's her birthday tomorrow," said Claire, smiling the smile of the proud parent.

"Yes, and something odd," he said.

"Something odd?" she said.

"Yeah, out of nowhere, she asked me why Mister Jimmy had never come back to see her. I guess my old bud made an impression," he said.

"Now! You mean now! She asked you that now!" said Claire.

"Yes, I ain't speaking Greek. It surprised me too," he said. He must have made an impression in those few hours three years gone." His wife took on a concerned look.

"My God, I hadn't even thought about him in so long." She said.

"Hmm, yes, well it was his decision to disappear. I kinda understand why he did it, but he should have stuck around and let things work out. We could have made it good for him. But the dummy just could never get by you leaving him. I empathize, but lots of people get divorced. He just didn't have the huevos to get on with his life and do for himself, and really Rebecca too. He needs to have a relationship with his daughter. Maybe not the relationship that he wanted, but a good one a close one nonetheless. I have to agree with you to a large degree on all of that," he said. "The man just over reacted."

"To a large degree?" she said.

"Yes, I do think you were a little too hard on him too soon," he said. "He was still smarting big time over the divorce and adding being second in line with our baby, well, I can see his side of it too," he said.

"I guess you're right. But the mess, at the time, was new to me and uncharted territory and all of it. I was just worried about the long term fallout. But you're right; I should have gone at a slower pace, given him some say in it all. I don't know. Does anyone ever do these kinds of things right?" she said.

"Probably not," he said.

******

"Damn it man, why the hell did you have disappear like that. Are you nuts! Forget the broad. Get on with your life. Henry and I have been worried about you, and are more than a little pissed off. More pissed off than worried if you wanna know," said Sammy.

"Yeah, well I just couldn't deal with the kinds of bullshit that she was piling on me, that in addition to cheating on me for the entire time we were married. Oh hell, I don't know. I guess I'm still madly in love with the bitch.

"But running into you today, I mean here in Littleton. Obviously you had a run down here right?" I said.

"Yeah, I'm done for the day. It's early, so I decided to stop in here and have a drink or two before heading back. I have to say there must be something in them stars this happening twice now in the same lifetime. I mean me spotting you like this," said Sammy.

"Yeah, for real," I said.

"You probably don't give a shit anymore, I mean it has been three fucking years, asshole; but your ex-bud has come around a few times looking for you," said Sam.

"Yeah?" I said.

"Yeah," he said.

"Well, you're right about one thing, I don't give a shit anymore. I'm content. No woman, so that's a problem, but I don't really want one at this point anyway," I said. "I guess a guy can't have everything."

"You gotta stop playin' the goddamn martyr and get your act together, Jim. Yeah, she was a good looking broad and all, and she is the mother of your kid; but there is no way she is worth throwing your life away for, not even," said Sam.

"Yeah, I know you're right. I mean it's obvious that you're right, but it's damn hard to give up a love as strong as mine was, is. Anyway, sooner or later I'll meet a woman who is worth the time and effort to build a relationship with. Well, that's the hope," I said.

******

"You're serious," she said. "Why won't you just let sleeping dogs lie!"

"Claire, I don't know. And on one level, I agree with you: just forget him and get on with things. But, I just can't shake the guilt I feel about everything, I mean if we hadn't been cheating on the guy for the whole time you two were married, well… " he said.

"I understand your feelings. But like I said back in the day, I didn't and don't feel any guilt about any of that. Yes, we cheated, but not really. I still gave him all of my love. For us, you and me, at the time it was just a sharing of our closeness. I even told him, after he discovered us, that it wasn't even the sex; it was the familyness that we all had together. Rod, we, all of us were not just friends. For me it was a lot more than that. I mean it," she said.

"Yeah for me too. But not for him I guess. I mean he and I were close, and you're right, all of us were. But for him there was never going to be a situation where he was willing to share you in any truly intimate way. He was, and likely still is, way too square for any of that," said Rodney. "The son-of-a-gun loved you real hard and deep, maybe too much if that's even possible."

"Oh, and how much do you love me, Rodney Pollard?" she said, and it was a serious question.

"More than anything," he said. "But, that said, if you dumped me; I'd get on with things and find me another woman. I would not let you destroy me: that's loser city, and I am not built to be a loser. My old bud is. It's just the way things are."

"So my good 'ole ex is a loser is he," she said, smiling now.

"Yes, he is in those respects for sure. He needed to get on with things and have a life. He could've done it, and maybe he has. Who knows? I hope he has. I loved the guy; I really did, do," he said.

She sighed, "Yeah me too," said Claire.

"Anyway, to answer your question, yes, I'm serious and yes I am going to try to find him. I'm gonna put Don on it," he said. "I have tried to find the guy since he cut country, just not real hard. Now that changes. He's got to spend time with his daughter. If he doesn't, the time may come when Rebecca will blame us. I intend to short shank that from happening. In fact he'll have to get violent with me to stop me. If he does that; then, it 'will' be his fault.

"I guess you're right, yes you make a good case. So do it, and I promise to cooperate," she said.

"Yes, you'll need to," he said. "In fact you more than anyone the way I see things."

******

I was sitting at the bar. My work was done. I start early and end early. I looked at the clock it was a quarter past noon. The guy was kinda watching me, but not watching me, and I know that makes no sense. But, it's what was.

I finished my drink and headed out. I was walking long range a lot. I was doing three to five miles a day if the weather was clement and it usually was in the Littleton area this time of year. I'd gained some weight since moving to Littleton and getting a regular job. But, now I was interested in getting into shape too; hence my long range walking and my in-my-room daily exercises, well, nightly exercises. I was actually looking pretty good: a good looking body to go with my outstanding facial good looks.

I think my efforts to improve my body were also improving my attitude and self-esteem. Well, I thought it was. I didn't feel so stressed and bitter and whatever anymore. Three years without being around the bad guys was also a factor. I still wanted my woman back, but I knew that that would never be happening. And my daughter? That one really rankled. My ex could have cut me some slack there, but well, she hadn't and so I didn't have a wife and didn't really have a daughter and I'd stopped letting those salient facts score my soul like they had heretofore. Life was good again, pretty good. I was even getting looks from a couple of women who were more or less regular at the bar. Now, if I could just translate those looks into something a little more substantial, oh yeah, that would be good, real good.

******

I had been attending weekly services at the Salvation Army Chapel after having met the Traynors. The odd thing? The SA didn't have a full time staff in Littleton, but the Traynors motored down once a month and held pick up services in a local private high school that a group of citizens had built for the locals who didn't want their kids educated in the lone public high school which was overcrowded and understaffed.

Of course, since I was now living and working in Littleton, I was attending church just the one day, the third Sunday, each month. The good news was that there was a particular lady who was also attending that service and manning the breakfast tables ante to it as well. And, that same lady, her name was Nadine Spence: age 25, 5'2", a bit chunky and kinda plain also claimed a seat at Shadows more or less regularly that being two and three days a week. Uh, and she was one of the couple of women who had been eyeing me. I figured that was fair; I was eyeing her right back which reality led to me standing next to her at this moment as we both exited the auditorium where Captain Traynor had conducted the service.

"Uh, yeah, I see you in there sometimes," I said. "I work there, but early: cleanup and a bit of security duty. It don't pay much, but it keeps me in grub and my favorite brand of firewater."

"Hmm, interesting. I wondered why you always seem to be around over there. You didn't seem to be a drunk or anything. I was curious. Now I'm in the know," she said.

"No, not a drunk. I just work there, and I got me a room in the back. She smiled her understanding of my situation.

"Sounds like you have a nice situation," she said.

"So whaddya think?" I said.

"About?" she said.

"About my chances of getting you to have dinner with me tonight, and…?" I said.

She gave a funny look? "And?" she said.

"And breakfast with me in the morning?" I said, and I was smiling kinda willfully.

Now she smirked. "How about this, dinner tonight and we'll see about anything else after the fact, okay?"

"Sounds like a good deal to me," I said. "Pick you up or meet you somewhere?"

"You can pick me up." She looked in her purse and pulled out a post it pad and a pen. She noted down her info and handed it to me.

"Okay," I said, "sevenish?"

"Sounds good to me," she said. Boy I was feeling good. There was one small fly in the ointment: I didn't have a car. We'd be cabbing it. I knew she wouldn't mind, well, I felt sure she wouldn't, but it was a small concern nonetheless.

I did have a not too worn blazer that I'd actually gotten at the SA thrift store. It was dark blue, clean, and it fit me good. Well, at my wages, I was into second hand pretty substantially.

The blazer, my new shirt and it was new, and my Dockers which were fairly new would be my style ensemble for the evening.

She knew what my occupation was and probably had a pretty good idea of how much money I made, so I wasn't concerned that she'd expect much from me as far as puttin' on the dog was concerned.

We'd be wining and dining at the Horse's Head. A simple steakhouse with a decent menu at prices that wouldn't make me cry when I saw the bill.

I looked up at the clock; the cab would be picking me up in fifteen minutes. Then there'd be a twenty minute ride to her address, I checked, and I estimated that that would put me in some five minutes early at her place. I was giddy. I hadn't felt like this since my first date with Claire.

I had my fingers crossed that I wouldn't blow my chances with the woman.

******

She seemed to like the Horse's Head. The sirloins were good; she liked it medium-well same as me. I liked it that we were starting off on the same page.

I was doing my best not to seem anxious, but I was anxious. I wanted to go home with this girl. I was hoping that it would be her home. She knew I was sleeping in the back of the bar, and if she didn't want me at her house on this first date the only other alternatives were no poontang or having to spring for a motel. I had the money, but not too much money.

"So," I said, "Whaddya think." I had a comebacker no matter how she replied. She smirked, staring at me in the process.

"Weeell," she said, smearing the word out. "The meal was great. You seem to be an okay guy socially. And, I'm probably as desperate as you to get some fun in, so let's take this little party to my place. I mean if you like," she said.

"Well, you're wrong about one thing, and I mean absolutely wrong," I said. She gave me a look that actually showed worry.

"But I thought…"

"No, no, what I was about to say is that there is no way you could possibly be as desperate as I am," I said. I called for the check and we headed out. The cab stand was just outside the door so there was no problem with that.

On the ride over to her place I did get one request on her part. "I know you don't have a car, Jim, so next time we'll take mine. You can buy the gas if you feel uncomfortable with the girl driving," she said.

"You got it," I said.

After being dropped off we headed inside for the evening's main event.

Her place was a small two bedroom one car garage affair, an old house in an older neighborhood. But the place was sparkling clean and the couch she showed me to was not too soft or too firm. Couches in my experience were often either one or the other, but this one was just right.

"Have a seat," she said. "I'll get us each a glass of wine." I nodded. This girl was really turning out to be a keeper, at least a good imitation of one for damn sure.

She was gone but two minutes before returning and handing me a glass of some dark red elixir.

We sipped in silence, she was smiling, I was shaking; and if I'd had to guess, I would have had to assume that she was smiling because she could see I was shaking. She set her wine on the coffee table in front of the couch and pulled me up to a standing position in front of her. I'd set my wine down too, and that worked for me now.

"Jim, we both know why we're here, so why don't you drop your pants and let me see what I have to contend with. Okay?" she said.

I didn't even answer her. I unbuttoned and unzipped my dockers; they fell in pool at my feet. She knelt in front of me and peeled my "Fruit of the Looms" slowly down my legs. She stared at my six inch weapon of love and smiled an evaluative smile.

"Not bad," she said. "I'm kind of small down there, so you should be able to do me good when we get to stage two here tonight. But, first we gotta get stage one out of the way."

Still on her knees she took my cock in her mouth and sucked; after a few minutes she pulled back a few inches and began to lick it and to suck on my balls. I exploded all over her face. I was terrified that she might be upset since I hadn't warned her that I was close. But, she just smiled some more and wiped the mess off of her face.

"Oh my God, I need that," I said.

"Figured you might," she said. "Now for stage two."

She stood and pulled me by my still semi-hard cock to the couch I'd been sitting on before she'd returned with the wine.

"Get on your knees mister, do it now," she said. I did as she said, as she took her place on the couch with her butt pushed back in my face. "Lick it and adore me."

I was so willing to do as she said. I sniffed and licked and sucked on her pussy and anus for some time. She finally looked back over her shoulder and whispered, almost like she was out of breath. "Do me, now," she said. I was so ready.

I stood and took a firm hold of her hips. I could feel her tense when I did that. I pushed my cock at her soaked opening and entered pretty easily. There was only a little resistance. I began seesawing in and out of her.

She choked and stammered as I increased the tempo finally ramming her to bring her off. My first piece of ass in nine years: good didn't even begin to describe it. The truth was it was better than any I'd ever had with Claire, and now I began to suspect why that was so: I had never gotten Claire's A-game!

We lay side by side for some minutes neither of us speaking.

"That was very good, mister," she said.

"Ditto that for me," I said, "oh yeah."

We did have breakfast and she was the one that cooked it. Pancakes and sausages: a caloric catastrophe, but we'd burned so many of them, calories, the night before that I didn't give damn.

"So it was good for you then," she said.

"To say the blee-bloody least," I said. "Nadine, thank you."

"You're welcome, sir," she said. She was stirring her black coffee with her spoon; nobody does that unless their minds are somewhere else.

"Nadine?" I said.

"Well, I was thinking. We seem to get along. Well, I mean if you'd be interested… " she started.

"Okay," I said, waiting for the punch line.

"Well, maybe you'd like to move in here, I mean with me," she said.

I was surprised, no shocked. One date and a woman was asking me if I'd like to move in with her. Lots of women screw on the first date, but ask a guy who they barely knew to move in with them? Not real often I wouldn't think.

"Well, okay," I said. "I mean if you're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't like living alone and, well, we could share expenses and stuff," she said. I nodded. She knew I was minimum wage, so her offer had to have considered that.

"Okay, then, I'll move in tomorrow. But, just so you know, I mean I figure you already know, I don't make a ton of money," I said.

"I know, and I might be able to help you with that," she said. "My company is hiring. I'll see what I can do."

"Wow! Okay," I said.

******

Over the next three to four weeks my life was completely turned around. It went from pure shit to an existential paradise. Well, maybe paradise is a slight exaggeration, but that's what it seemed like to me. And why?

I had a house mate who turned out to be an actual sexual aggressor-my kind of woman! The home we were sharing, hers, was warm and cozy if somewhat dated and small. And I had a new job, which my new woman had gotten for me, making relatively small deliveries to numerous places around town; and, as it happened, back in the Valley as well; well, the Valley wasn't "that" far away.

I think here would be a good place to clear up a few things. Nadine's job was pure office work. She was just a worker ant, but she was good at what she did. Good enough as indicated to get me a job there: management trusted her judgment. With her thirty grand and my twenty we were doing okay. That said, I had been lucky to get the job I got. The place hadn't had an opening in a long time, but they just happened to have one at the time I started dating Nadine. She knew I'd been a big rig driver, so it was pretty much a slam dunk for AHDS to hire me. Well, sometimes, if but rarely in my case, the stars were aligned favorably.

Marriage? Not in the cards for the near future, but not exactly unthinkable in the long run.

But, as if some demonic power had it in for me, he showed up. Who you ask? Why no other than the man who cuckolded me and stole my wife, and, my kid in the end as well. Yeah, I know I had a hand in losing my kid to the dynamic duo, but in my defense I did see the undeniable handwriting on the wall, and I'd just cut country to avoid the inevitable.

At any rate here I was staring at the man across the room at Shadows wondering why the fuck now! I really didn't need this. But I did have an idea. If it worked maybe the sonovabitch and his ilk would finally leave me alone. He hadn't seen me yet. I made the call.

"Yeah honey I need you right away if you can see your way clear," I said into the little used iPhone that I'd been able to afford because of my new job at Avril and Harris Delivery Services.

CHAPTER 9:

As I watched my ex-best friend across the room, he looked down, no, frustrated. If things worked the way I hoped, depending as I was on my own impromptu planning, I'd be changing that look he was wearing quite significantly. Oh yes, yes I would.

I saw her come in. She was short, she was chunky, she was plain looking, and she was mine.

"Okay, Jimmy, what's all of this about? Why the tone of voice, the urgency," she said.

"You remember me telling you about my wife and ex-best friend?" I said.

"Yes, what of it. You've put all of that behind you or so you said," she said.

"Yes, I did, and I did, but they haven't," I said.

"What? What are you talking about," she said.

"He's here," I said.

"Who?"

"My ex-best friend," I said.

"What?"

I let my glance casually pass over to where Rodney Pollard was seated sipping a beer. It was clear he was there to see me. Someone must have cued him that I'd worked at Shadows. It was old news, my working here, but not that old. And, I still did frequent the place.

"So that's him?" she said. "Nice looking cuss." I frowned.

"Oh don't get your panties all in an uproar," she said. "Anyway, so what's the plan?"

"I'm going to introduce you," I said. She gave me a look, then a broad smile, then a small giggle.

"Oh, I see," she said.

"Yes, indeed," I said. I took her by the hand and led her over to the man's table. We came up more or less behind him. It worked for me. We just stood there watching him, maybe two feet behind his left shoulder. He seemed to sense something. He turned and his eyes shot open.

"Jimmy!"

"Yes, Mister Pollard. Nadine Spence, this is Rodney Pollard, wife stealer," I said. "Oh and I guess daughter stealer too, but as to that I'm not sure if it was more him or the woman," I said. I was not being nice nor did I intend to be.

"Jimmy, what are you… " started Rodney Pollard.

"The question is what are you doing here? I got out of your way and left town. I did that in order to be left alone. Did you not get that part?" I said.

"Jimmy, you and I have got to talk," he said. "Oh, and nice to meet you Miss Spence." Nadine nodded.

"Why? Why do we have to talk? We've done all of that, and the woman made it plain that I was going to be towing her line or I wasn't welcome around your place. Kind of puts the boff on us having anything to talk about," I said.

"She told me about the, well, the last time you came by. She felt bad about how she came off toward you, again," he said.

"Really? Sounded pretty much like a rehearsed set-in-stone position to me," I said.

"I won't kid you, Jim, she was a bit worried that you might, well, make waves down the line. She was trying to ensure against that. But none of it was meant to cut you out of Rebecca's life. That is also the truth," he said.

"So whaddya want, Rod, old buddy? Why are you here?" I said.

"Isn't it obvious? I, we, want you to come back and be in our lives and part of the family and all of it, again," he said. He tendered a hopeful glance in Nadine's direction. She'd sat across from him and was stony faced and not adding anything to the conversation.

"But, I'll still be Mister Jimmy. That also true?" I said.

"No. Claire, after the fact, realized that asking that of you was too much. She didn't think it was that big a deal at the time, and she was worried that calling you what you really are, might confuse the baby, but, she's moved on from that thinking. You'll be daddy too, if you will, just like me," he said.

"Just like you?" I said. I looked over at my woman.

"Whaddya think, Nadine? Think I oughta chance it one more time?" I said.

"Well, it's your call, honey. The worst they could do is betray you again; then of course there wouldn't be any doubt about their intentions. And, if it's really on the up and up, well, you'd be able to be around your daughter again. How old is she now?" she said.

"She's nine," said Rodney. Nadine nodded.

"Honey," she said looking at me, "given the young girl's age it might not be a bad idea to chance it. She's still young enough to learn to see you as her dad."

Nadine referencing Rebecca as "my" daughter and me as her dad didn't seem to faze my ex-best friend. I caught myself nodding in the affirmative.

"Does Claire know you're here tonight?" I said.

"Yes, but she's at the hotel down the street. She didn't think that we'd actually have any luck at finding you tonight; she's resting. I should tell you we hired a PI to find you. He said that you sometimes came here on weekend nights. We planned to sandbag you and talk to you if it took us a month to connect. This is the sixth night in a row that I've come here. And you surprised me; I didn't notice you coming in," he said.

"Yeah, I gathered that, I mean that I'd surprised you. But then, you've surprised me in the past haven't you," I said. "So maybe I get a pass this time." My sarcasm was not lost on him; he looked down.

I looked over at Nadine. She was very slightly nodding yes.

"Okay, Rodney, go back to your woman and tell her your mission was a success that the long missing daddy of our baby, hers and mine, has been found well and willing to see what we will see," I said.

"Okay, okay, oh damn 'kay," he said. "Jim, you won't regret it. Nadine it is really good to see you. Jim has needed-a friend-I'm glad he found you."

"Nice to meet you too," she said.

"Oh, and Rodney, I'm coming, and Nadine is coming with me. No problem with that, right?" I said.

"No, no problem whatsoever," he said. I nodded.

We said a few more things to each other relating to the when and the how we would be coming down, and then the man was gone. Nadine had not met Claire of course, not a good thing, but not a bad thing either. That little fact however was going to lead to some difficulties quite unforeseen at that moment but inevitable given the overall situation as it would play out over time.

******

We'd set up a time for me to revisit the Pollard residence back in the Valley. I was following Nadine's orders. I didn't trust the Pollards, but Nadine seemed to; well, she didn't know them, I did. The time and day selected was the following Sunday at lunchtime. We'd be staying the whole day, and have dinner as well at the Pollards' plush digs.

I was anxious and worried. While I did have an almost violent urge to see my baby, I was not going to let her, her being my ex-wife, dictate what I could and could not do, read interfere with my being able to influence how my child was raised and grew into womanhood and adulthood. No, if I was going to be cut off or controlled by Claire; I would be gone. There'd be a whole lot less heartache for everyone if that turned out to be the decision that I had to make.

Nadine's car was a ten year old Hyundai. It ran good, but had over a hundred thousand miles on it, and she'd bought it new! Put another way, Nadine did a lot of driving. Littleton was a couple of hours by car southeast of the Valley. There were maybe ten thousand souls resident in Littleton. It'd suited Nadine and me.

We pulled up in front of the Pollards' residence ten minutes early. Pretty good time if I do say so. Well, I had been, and actually still was, a driver. I knew how to estimate ETAs real close.

She'd been driving as she usually did. Well, it was her car. I was saving up to get me a used pickup. Every family needs a pickup as a second vehicle. And no, Nadine and I weren't a family yet, but I was thinking more and more about putting move on her to get married. But, we'd both been stung pretty badly in our respective pasts. Neither of us was jumping into anything.

Parking, she looked over at me. "Well, this is it. Jim, either it goes well or it doesn't. We'll just play it one day at a time, hell, one hour at a time. If she's gonna do things good, well then good. If not, well it will be what it will be," she said. I nodded.

"Exactly," I said.

The man met us at the door to the building, as soon as we'd traversed the circular driveway that wrapped around the building in a "U" with parking to both the north and the south of the complex, and parked.

"Jimmy it is so good to see you and you too Nadine. Let's go up. Claire is waiting for us, and Rebecca too," said Rodney. He sounded sincere in his greetings. The ride up was short.

"Thanks," I said.

The two of us followed him inside the spacious condo. My ex-wife was some twenty feet across the room waiting; she was smiling, how sincerely might have been arguable. At her side, and to her right was my daughter. Rebecca marched, not walked, but marched toward us. "Hello, dad," she said, looking straight up at me. Okay, she'd startled me. It looked like I was going to get the full court press; they sure as hell had scored with their opening gambits. I actually felt tears begin to cluster at the corners of my eyes.

"Well, and hello to you too," I said. She came close to me and hugged me. That she'd been coached was so obvious it was comical. But, that said, I was grateful for the display. It looked as if my first firewall had been breached.

At that point in the tableau Claire came towards me, stopped, and came forward again closing the distance between us and hugged me. She stepped back, turned and offered her hand to Nadine, a bit less enthusiastically than might have been, I thought. But, maybe I was being overly suspicious. I guess we'd be seeing.

******

"Look, Rod, I'm okay with Jim being around her. He isn't here that much and won't be given his new address and job and all. And, her calling him dad, after you and I talked it over, that's okay too. I guess he deserves that much recognition for sure. But her, his new lady friend? She could really complicate things. What if they decide they want to share physical custody at some point. They won't get full custody, I know that. But, they could go for summers or some other complicated formula of 'Becca staying with them. That could impact our plans for Rebecca. That must not happen. When he was living on the row and inside the bottle, there was no problem, but now, I just don't know…"

"What are you saying, Claire! You want him drunk and on welfare? Is that what you're actually saying? I'm surprised at you! The man is the baby's father, her biological and real father. I'm her real father too, and he realizes that."

"Yes, but if he marries Nadine there will be a new set of relationships to deal with," she said.

"So what! We'll deal with them. It's called life, Claire. Chill, okay. Stop worrying about problems that aren't even problems. And if the time comes when there are complications, as you say, then we'll deal with those then too. Period," he said, "Okay!" She nodded.

When her husband put his foot down, well, he put his foot down and there was nothing for it except to do as he said. It was one thing about Rodney Pollard that she admired, his strength of character. It was also one of the things that drove her nuts. Had her Jimmy been half the man that her Rodney was, well, there might not have been a Rodney in her life, not in any meaningful sense.

"Okay," she said. "I'll do the best I can. I'm just concerned that's all. Jimmy didn't react normally to my divorcing him and marrying you and that's weighed on me a lot ever since. Okay? I guess I'm just a worrier."

"Okay, honey, but don't worry. Let me do the worrying for us and for Jim and Nadine as well. I can well imagine that they've got their concerns. Whatever happens we'll just deal with it." He said.

"Look, I'm inviting them to stay over. We can take them out to breakfast tomorrow, and maybe lunch too. I do have a building to check out tomorrow that I'm thinking of investing in. I'll do it after breakfast and be back in plenty of time for lunch. It's that highrise downtown that Marcort Industries is building. I've been thinking of buying it and doing a turnaround sale of the place to make the big bucks. My crew has done the ground work on the possible buy on it and after I get a look see at progress on the building and whatnot; well, it might be ours before the end of the quarter," he said.

"Well, okay, but what about our guests while you're out evaluating where our next billion is going to come from? I mean just me… " she said. He took on a thoughtful look.

"Hmm, yes. Well, they could come with me, us. I might even offer Jim a chance to have a small piece of the pie. I mean you and I have long thought of any number of ways to try and give back to the guy some of what we took from him. Though he has always told us to take a hike, now, with Nadine in the mix it might be a go. I mean he might be willing to think a little more rationally," said Rodney.

"You know that is a very good idea. If he did accept a piece of the deal, maybe he'd be beholding enough to us to be malleable when we needed him to be malleable in terms of Rebecca," she said. She was actually smiling with a semblance of glee. We could even couch the notion as an investment that he could make in her, Rebecca's, future, maybe her education or something."

"Look, let him do his own thinking. If you start making noises about how he should do things, well, we both know the guy. He'd turn us down in a heartbeat because he doesn't want anything that he does to be anyone else's idea but his own. Got it!" he said.

"Hmm, yes, you're right. You're always right, dear. It's what I love about you. Well, that and your penis," she said and laughed.

******

"Breakfast was very good, Claire," I said.

"Yeah, mommy, it was great!" screamed Rebecca.

"Yes it was," echoed Nadine.

"Well thank you all of you.

"Jim, did Rodney speak with you about today?" said Claire.

"Yes, we had coffee on the deck before you all came down. I guess we'll get to see how the big man does his business, some of it anyway," I said.

"Sounds fascinating," said Nadine. Claire smiled weakly at the comment by Nadine.

"It can be. Keeps him busy for sure," said Claire.

"Yeah, chasing the big bucks," I said.

"Yes, well it is what he does," said Claire, "You could too if you wanted. I know Rod has long wanted you to be a part of things-business-wise," she added quickly, realizing that her words could have been interpreted very differently.

"Don't have to be so touchy about things, Claire," I said, "not anymore, the past is past now."

"Okay, and thank you for that," she said.

"And Claire," I said.

"Yes?" she said.

"I very much appreciated Rebecca's greeting yesterday, and I know you know what I mean," I said.

"I guess," she said. "Before, well I was in the wrong. I don't know what I was thinking back then. Anyway that's ancient history now. Now, we start new and more sensibly."

Something about the way she said this last raised a few small red flags, but I laid it off to my always imminent paranoia.

"For sure," I said.

The big man came in just as we were indulging in our second cups of coffee.

"Everybody ready for a little sightseeing?" he said. "I'm pretty proud of what you're going to be seeing."

Everybody laughed and yeaed and sputtered their coffee and what all in agreement with his proposal.

"Okay then, let's hit the road," said Rodney.

The ride downtown in his Escalade was smooth and fast. I would've liked to own one of them, I thought. But it was way out of our price range, mine and Nadine's.

We pulled up in front of the building that was going to make my rich ex-bud, who was beginning to be my bud again, even richer. I think I sighed, but maybe gasped would have been a more accurate term.

It was a really fancy piece of the architect's art. It must've been twenty stories and its girth filled two solid blocks in both directions. Parking as we discovered was subterranean, and there were three levels of that. This was not a building that paupers and start-up companies were going to be leasing space in. No indeed, this one was for the big boys and girls for damn sure.

The building looked to be three quarters done; well, that was my very uninformed opinion.

We spent the best part of an hour touring. It was interesting and very tiring I'd have to have said.

"Well, we best get going," he said. "I have a lot more to show you before we hit the road."

We'd been in the parking garage and were exiting the building in two groups. The Pollards led and Nadine and I lagged behind maybe a dozen yards.

"Honey," said Nadine, "have you noticed anything in the way that Claire's been looking at me?"

"Huh? No, I don't think so," I said. "I mean she doesn't know you and I know for a fact that you were more than a surprise when she found out about you." I smirked.

"Hmm, maybe," she said.

"She's probably jealous of your amazing good looks and youth," I said. "I know I am."

"Smart ass," she said. "She is way prettier than me and most other women too for that matter."

We'd just cleared the entrance to the garage. I heard something, no, sensed it. And then I saw it. Scaffolding from halfway up the building's side was coming down, coming down fast, very fast. The Pollards including Rebecca were right under it holding hands. I ran hell for leather crashing into them and ramming them out of the way of what I'd learn later was a half ton steel structure just as it thudded into the cement driveway. The three of them went sprawling into the grassy frontage across from us. I heard a horrendous scream or screams, not sure which. Then everything was black and quiet and spiraling.

******

The room was dark. I was awake and I was warm, very warm. I thought these places always had the air-con on full bore. Oh, and it was a hospital room; there was no doubt about that. I'd seen enough of them over the years. The sign above some equipment lined up against the wall announced that I was a resident of Grayson Memorial Hospital.

I'd never been here. It looked to be truly upscale. And, one more thing: I was in a private room. I sure as hell hoped that somebody else was footing the bill. I knew something about hospital costs, and this room was way out of my price range and Nadine's too for damn sure.

I was groggy, but I was alert enough to understand my surroundings. I saw the little nurse caller. I clicked it twice. I was almost immediately surrounded by two female and one male nurse or orderly. This wasn't good. That much attention was always a bad sign.

"Mister Clausen. We are so glad to have you with us again," said the most senior of the three visitors.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "What's the deal? How long have I been out?" I knew I'd been out a while: I felt stiff and hungry and thirsty. Yeah, I'd been out a while, probably over night or maybe even two nights. Suddenly I was worried.

Tall nurse was looking sheepish. "You've been out for five days, sir," she said.

"Huh? Five days? Huh?" I said.

"The doctor will be in to see you shortly. He's been called. We called him just now as soon as we knew for sure you were awake," she said. The orderly, for that is what I pegged him to be after the fact, was hanging a bag on the intravenous tree that my hand was connected to. The backup nurse was wrapping my arm in a blood pressure belt.

Over the next fifteen minutes a number of measurements, I guess that's what they were, were taken of me, and then she came in: Dr. Mildred Montrose, her badge declared.

******

She looked at some papers on a clipboard that had been hanging from the railing at the end of the bed I was in.

She pulled up a chair. "Mister Clausen," she said. She stopped and actually looked down before looking up and into my eyes. I had a really hinky feeling.

"That bad," I said. I'd been feeling kinda feverish, warm. I was real worried.

"Mister Clausen. You saved three people's lives. They would definitely have been killed without your intervention," she said. I relaxed. She was going to give me the hero's speech. I really didn't give a damn about that. I wanted to know about me. I was in the freakin' hospital. And, so far nobody had told me much about anything. And apart from being too damn hot; I was feeling okay, not wonderful, but okay.

"Okay, okay, doctor, but what about me. I feel so warm. Something's going on with me, right?" I said.

"Yes," she said. "Mister Clausen, we had to amputate your legs. We tried to save the left one, but it was no use. You suffered a direct hit by the beam or scaffolding or whatever it was. It crushed your legs too badly to be saved." I stared at her.

"My legs?" I said. "Both…"

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid so," she said.

She'd stopped talking. There was a long moment of dead silence.

"Can I be left alone for a little while," I said. "I need to be alone for a little while."

"Certainly. Just buzz the nurse if you need anything, anything at all. Mister Clausen, I am so sorry for your injuries, sir," she said.

"Yeah, thanks," I said, "but just some alone time, please." She nodded and left me to my… something."

She'd closed the door behind her that was good.

Well, if it wasn't for my bad luck I wouldn't have any I guess. Nadine would be leaving me now, about that there was no doubt. All of them knew the situation I was sure of that. They'd be wanting to visit me and tell me how awful it was and how much they loved me and were going to help me and that I had nothing to worry about.

Fuck! I didn't want any of that. I didn't want to see any of them, not even my baby. Maybe even especially her. Well, Claire would be happy, nobody to interfere with her plans now. No, that wasn't fair. She probably would be sad as hell for me. Make special times for me and Rebecca if I wanted. But Becca would not want to be around a loser like me now. I had a thought.

For sure I'd get some money from the builder's insurance company. Yes, that was the ticket. That's how I could do for my kid. I would get the money and put it in a trust for her. Set her up for when she finished college. The other guy could pay for that, for her college career. I wondered what she'd want to be when she grew up. My thoughts brought on something else: my tears, my desperate tears. My life was over, any hopes I'd ever had had ended. They came now, did the tears, and I needed them; damned if I didn't need my tears. I needed them bad!

******

I slept and slept some more. The following day after my meeting with my doctor, I got another visit from her.

"How are you feeling this afternoon, Mister Clausen," she said. I kinda shrugged.

"Not good. I mean well, you can imagine," I said, I was not being sarcastic.

"Mister Clausen, a number of people have been here waiting in shifts to see you. Do you think that you could see your way clear to let them in for a little while. I mean I know you've wanted some solitude. But…"

"Who are they?' I said. I knew of course that the Pollards would be among the throng, but who else was less clear to me.

"Well, Mister and Missus Pollard are here of course. A fellow from the Salvation Army who says he knows you is here, or was, I think he left a bit ago, a service he was conducting or something, not sure," she said. "And a couple of fellows who say they are or were coworkers of yours."

Well everybody but Nadine. I didn't figure her for not at least saying goodbye, but I guess I was wrong about her. Probably a good thing that I didn't end up marrying her if she was that shallow. No, that wasn't fair. She was young and needed to live her life, not be with an invalid who would be making huge demands on her time and care. Well anyway, it was what it was.

"Okay, but not everybody at once, maybe two at a time. I'm just too exhausted to deal with crowds. Okay?" I said.

"Certainly, and we wouldn't let more than one or two at a time in anyway, sir, them's the rules," she said. I nodded.

Well now the sympathy brigades would be doing their thing and then going home and living their lives and I would be alone again and doing an imitation of living that nobody would give a rat's ass about. I saw that as fair; I didn't give a rat's ass about it either.

CHAPTER 10:

The two of them came in together. Just wanted to gang up on me I was sure.

"Well, hello asshole, just had to play the hero didn't yuh," said Sammy. "Now, look where it's got yuh. You're gonna be rich while the rest of us suckers are still gonna be sweating blood for our daily bread."

I knew the man was trying to make me feel better, but I really wasn't into it right at that moment. "Yeah, well it is what it is," I said. "Anyway, thanks for coming by, you guys. It means a lot. Henry had been holding back; well, he was older than us.

"You okay, Jim," he said, finally. I shrugged.

"Yeah, more or less," I said. "You know how it is. Sometimes the bad luck outweighs the good. In the end it's all the same. I mean I guess it all evens out, yuh know?"

"Yeah, I do. Tough break, Jim. The toughest, especially for a guy like you. You deserve a better gig," said Henry.

"I don't know about that. But what you said, Sammy," I said looking at him. "I am gonna find out my rights about that falling beam or whatever it was. I mean the part of the scaffolding that damn near killed me and the others. Maybe I can at least do for my kid if there's any insurance there. I mean if the builders have any insurance. They gotta have it right?"

"You betcha," said Sammy. "Want me to check it out?"

"Nah, I'll get a legal eagle to do that. I figure he'll do it on the come if you know what I mean," I said. The two visitors nodded.

We talked for some time and then they had to go.

After Sammy and Henry left I got kind of an unusual visit. Captain Traynor came and he was accompanied by his wife, Dora Traynor. It occurred to me that I'd been seein' the guy for the last few years, but I had never heard his first name. Kind of a nuthin' thing, but for some reason or no reason it bugged me.

"Hello Jim," said the Captain.

"Hi Captain. Dora. Nice of you to come by," I said.

"We've tried a few times these last days," said Dora, "but you were under. We just got back from downtown: Tuesday Bible study." She noticed that I kept glancing back at the door.

"Your family is letting everyone else have their moment," she said. "I believe they'll be in and stay for the rest of visiting period after the rest of us are gone." I sagged back in my sheets.

It came to me that I had not even seen my stumps. I hadn't tried. I was, I realized, frankly afraid to see them. I knew I would eventually have to, but I was in no hurry. No indeed.

The Captain and Dora and I talked for quite a while. They told me about some of the programs that the church had that might be of help to me down the line, including furnishing me with a part time job if I decided that that might be a good fit for me. I knew I might have to consider that very thing down the line. There weren't many places gonna be much help to me in finding a job, not with no legs. Still, there were other things I had to take care of first.

One of those things was going to be getting used to using a wheelchair, and being in one virtually every waking moment. I'd need to learn how to take a shower and cook my food sitting down and how to drive a car with controls on the steering wheel if I ever got to a place where I could afford a car again. Yeah there was going to be a lot to do and no help around for me to depend on; it'd all be on me.

Oh, I knew I was going to get an offer from the dynamic duo, but could I stand being in their house knowing he was going to be fucking her just up the staircase? I just wasn't sure I could do it. Especially knowing I would probably never have another piece of ass as long as I lived. And the tears came again, that just as the Traynors were leaving. I don't think that they noticed. That was something to be thankful for I guessed.

It was some little time before the Pollards showed up. They were a forlorn looking group. I think I was actually feeling a little sorry for them. I was also afraid of them. The thing I was most afraid of was maybe having to depend on them even in the short run. God how I feared it, and apart from letting myself starve to death there was going to be little choice. But hell, maybe they wouldn't even offer. Hah, there is indeed a "potential" upside to everything.

"Oh my Jimmy," sobbed Claire. "Oh my! I am so fucking sorry, sir, so fucking sorry!" She came to me and wrapped her arms around my sweat soaked body. Well, I was warm, very warm. She pulled back and her husband came and literally knelt by my bed. Oddly he didn't say anything but his tears did. Well, what the hell, I'd be shedding a lot more of those myself in the near future that was a fucking given!

"Jimmy," said Claire, coming around to the other side of the bed, "you can't stay in your house. Her house. She's…"

"I know," I said, finishing the sentence for her.

"Yes, well, you need to stay with us at least until you figure out what you want to do. Okay?" she said.

I thought it odd that she put potential limits on my staying with them. Maybe I was still just being paranoid, or cynical or something, but that's what it felt like she was saying to me: I could stay with them a while, I knew that. They undoubtedly felt that they owed me, oh yeah. But them giving up any significant anything to make life better for me was not gonna be in the cards that was for damn sure; well, that was my thinking. But, for the short term I would need them and there was no getting around it. But as soon as I could I'd be getting out of there and leaving them to their happy lives that also "a" very certitude for damn sure.

"Don't worry, Claire, I won't be bothering you. I'll get a place soon enough. I can stay with Sammy until then," I said.

Sammy had offered me a room in his place until I could get on my feet-yeah and those were actually his exact words-and I had told him I'd let him know. Problem with Sam was that he was finally talking about getting married to Miss Watson, and I sure didn't want to be in the way of newlyweds. But maybe for the short term.

"What the fuck!" said Rodney, speaking for the first time. "Of course you'll be staying with us. Nobody is putting time limits on you staying with us. You can stay forever if you want. All Claire was saying… " She held her hand up to stop her husband from talking. She took over.

"All I meant, Mister, was that you have always been so hard to keep around that I didn't want to seem like I was forcing you to do anything that you didn't want to do. I know how you think, Jimmy. So just stop this martyrdom stuff right now… " she started.

"Well fuck you, Claire, ex-wife, cheater, rule setter! Just fuck you! Get the fuck out of here! Now!" I screamed. "I don't need your fucking charity!"

"Jimmy! Stop it. I know I do things wrong say things wrong, yes, even think things wrong; but now it's you doing it wrong. Please goddamn it forgive this whore of an ex-wife. I need it Jimmy. I need your forgiveness. I need it bad! Okay!" Her sobbing actually broke my heart, go figure.

It was clear that the bitterness I was feeling, and had let boil over, was more than apparent to the two of them

"Yes, you've been hurt real bad, Jim. And you got hurt saving my life and the life of my husband and of our baby, yours and mine. Oh-fucking-'kay!" she said. I nodded.

There was another of those long moments of quiet. Even Rodney whose tears were staining the floor around him wasn't talking.

"Okay, I guess," I said. I did feel a little chastised by her words. In point of fact they, the words, did make sense on some level.

******

On day nine of my stay at Grayson, she finally showed up-Nadine.

She came in looking down at the floor. "I am so sorry, Jimmy. I should've been here sooner. I know what you must think of this girl, but… " she said.

"Nadine, I'm going to make this as easy for 'me' as possible. Okay?

"I know how you must feel and all. I understand, really. Have a good life and know that I will always be grateful for what you did for me when I was down and out. I wished it could have worked out, but you're still young and you need a man who can, well, be a man for you, Not an invalid who would be nothing but a burden. It's all right. Come here. Give me a kiss," I said.

She edged closer to me as though I were some toxic thing. I actually felt sorry for her. She came to me and gave me a kiss on the lips.

"Goodbye, Nadine. Have a good life. She touched my cheek, turned, and walked out of my life. I would never see Nadine Spence again. Goddamn it I was sad. I was looking at maybe being sad forever. Damn it!

******

I was out of the hospital on day ten of my incarceration there. And, in spite of Claire's protestation to the contrary, I was still wary of going to their place to stay. It was, frankly, the last place on earth that I wanted to be staying. So as we drove I was doing my level best to think how I could shorten my stay there.

"I did have to give Claire credit for thoughtfulness on one score. She'd gone to our place, Nadine's house, after our meet up in the hospital, and gotten all of my things. There wasn't that much. Nadine had apparently been there and had helped her pack it all. In addition to having gotten my stuff, she'd had my pants altered to allow for the fact that I no longer had any legs. I hadn't even thought of that until we were leaving the hospital and she'd handed me a pair of my altered Dockers to put on. And yes, she was there to see me do it. I guess she didn't trust me not to run away.

I gave her a look when I saw the shortened version of that element of my wardrobe. "I had it done. Don't get mad, but I measured you while you were sleeping. It had to be done, so I did it," she said.

"Thanks," I said, "that was nice of you." I know my look had to have been ultimately sad; she didn't comment.

******

It was late afternoon when we arrived at the house. Rebecca greeted me, kinda formally which was nice but likely under orders from the woman of the house.

And it was nine year-old Rebecca who informed me that my room would be a little while in being made ready for me. It seemed the part time maid that the Pollards employed was making the final arrangements. Oh, and she informed me that my things were already inside it.

I thanked her, and I got a hug from her in my new and shiny and electrically mobile wheelchair. I would find out later that it was custom made to order for me by my ex-best friend.

I was glad my stuff was in my room. There was an item I really wanted to get my hands on. Well, I did and I didn't. It was my mini-recorder. I would soon know whether or not I was actually welcome at the Pollards. I had the feeling that Rodney would have been fine with my being there, but Claire, not so much; that in spite of her words at the hospital.

Well, I didn't have to hurry. I would spend the next few days making plans. I wanted to talk to my baby some, I needed to contact a lawyer, and I wanted to be able to plant my listening device for best effect. Problem was that particular venue was their bedroom. And, their bedroom was upstairs. But, I'd figure out something; there had to be a way.

My opportunity to find out what was what came three days into my stay with them. A period by the way, which had been more or less uneventful. On day three the two of them had a business do of Rodney's to go to. They would be out for the next several hours and Rebecca was with a friend at the other's house, some birthday party or other.

I wheeled myself over to the stairs and used my arms to push me up and out of my chair. I sat backwards on the bottom step and, using my arms, I propelled myself up one step at a time, there were fifteen of them, all the way to the top. I used a modified method of pushing myself up and skittering a foot or two at a time into their room. It was a nice room, and very large.

I looked around as I sat on the floor with my ass a bit on the rough side having done the stair-climbing bit. Then I saw the perfect place, her vanity. I placed the recording device under where the chair was supposed to go and all the way to the back and just behind the edge of the vanity's backside. I'd set it for voice activation. It'd likely be a few days before I could retrieve it, but that was the breaks. Something else got my attention just before I started my exit: pictures of the two of them all lovey and family and everything; Rebecca was in some of them. It occurred to me that I had no pictures of my baby, none, nor of Claire and me from when we were married either.

I reversed my strategy to get back to the ground floor and waited. It would be hours before they came home but I was good. Everything was good. I knew they had a church thing to go to on Sunday: they were Catholics of the dyed in the wool kind, except when it came to divorce of course; but the new pope didn't seem to have the same hang ups as did the popes of yore. At any rate I'd be able to collect the evidence then, well, if there was any.

******

"So you're going to church?" I said.

"Yes," said Claire. "You can come along if you're of a mind to."

"No, no, not today. I'm still not doing too good. It was a challenge getting in and out of the bathtub this morning. I need to learn to do for myself better than I so far have," I said. She nodded, but her look screamed that she wanted to say something, something she was apparently concerned that I might not like. I called her on it.

"Claire? Something you wanna say?" I said.

"Jim, if you need help with any of those kinds of things… " she started.

"Claire, please. The last thing I need is you helping my naked self get into the shower. Okay!" I said.

"Okay, okay, I didn't mean anything by it. I just meant, well, you know… " she said.

"Okay, no harm no foul," I said. I think she was embarrassed. Hell, I could relate, I was embarrassed too.

They went to the 9:00 mass. The baby was with them. It was my time. As soon as their car was out of the driveway I was repeating my up the stairs tactics of a few days past. I was a bit better at it too. I made it in less time and with less hassle. And, I got what I needed and was back down and putting on the headphones way before they got back from the church.

Looking at the read out on the device, I was surprised to see that I had almost five hours of recordings. I had my phones on. I had them plugged into the recorder. But, I paused. Did I really want to know the nitty gritty. The short answer was no. But the basic answer was that I had to. There had been just too many bad things done to me, the way I saw things, to not be in the know. What is it that people say: fore warned is fore armed or something like that.

A lot of the first hour was nothing but her messing around in the bedroom. Maybe putting away things or what all and talking to herself or singing. She was alone and so nothing was said. I fast forwarded to the second hour on the tape. They were in the room together.

"How was work," she said.

After that greeting, I had to listen to almost twenty minutes of mundane conversation about his day, her day, Rebecca's day. It seemed Rebecca had a friend that would be coming over on Saturday next. The odd thing was I was so jealous of them hearing about their family time and all of it that it almost seemed worse than them talking about me, which they hadn't done-yet.

Hearing all of that I knew that I just couldn't live with them; I just couldn't. But then they went to bed. And then it got very interesting, bad interesting.

"You look good in your suit," she said.

"My suit?" he said, "I'm naked."

"Yeah, your birthday suit," she said.

"Smarty pants," he said. She giggled. There was a long moment of silence.

"I wonder what he's thinking about down there in his room," she said, finally.

"Don't dwell on it," he said. "Yeah, he knows that we do it up here. He probably does wish it was him, but he has to suck it up and hope that at some point he can find himself a woman that can deal with his disability. It's just the way it is. He sacrificed himself for us, and for that he is going to get as much help as we can give him to make his way, and I mean even if he doesn't want the help. I got him that wheelchair, nine thousand dollars by the way, and he hasn't said anything about it. And, I don't want him to. I don't want him to give it back to me, and he would.

"He told me yesterday that he would be contacting a lawyer about suing Marcort for his injuries. I offered to introduce him to Larabee, but he wants to do his own thing. But, I've cued Larabee anyway just in case."

"Hmm, yes, and now it begins," she said.

"Now it begins?" he said.

"Rod, I get it that we owe the guy. And, I am more than willing to do what I can for him. But what I do not want to happen is for us to have to change who we are and what we do and be running after him and cleaning up after him and solving all of his needs for him. I'd rather just give him money, a lot of money, and let him look after himself. He wants to do it his way anyway," she said.

"He saved our lives, Claire, literally! We owe the guy a debt that we can never really pay. Money? Give him money? He'd never take it; I know the man. Hell, that would be letting us off easy. We have one-point-two billion when all of our resources are added together. I could give him half and he'd still be in a blue funk, maybe been a bigger one than he's already in!

"You say you actually offered to help bathe him? Do you have any idea how threatening that had to be for a man like him, knowing how turned on he was undoubtedly going to be with you doing something like that for him; and, him unable to do a damn thing about it! Trust me what you said to him was beyond the pale. Don't ever do that again, Claire, I mean it," said Rodney, "If you do you might as well kill him. It would be kinder."

"Wait, wait, number one, I did not offer to bathe him, just help him get into the tub. He said he'd had some trouble getting in is all.

"And, please, I do not want you to think that I am ungrateful to the man. I am. How could I not be? But there are limits, Rod. There are going to be uncomfortable times with him being here. You've said it yourself. He knows what we will likely be doing tonight, and he will be wishing he had a woman to be doing it with too. And never doubt it, I am very worried about that particular little problem. And, it is every bit as much our problem as it is his while he is down there in that room in this house beating his meat trying to get as bit of relief," she said.

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"But there is another problem: the matter of Rebecca. She asked me today why her other daddy is always so sad. She is aware of his disability, but she thinks that he should be happy because he gets to stay here with all of our fine furniture and cars and stuff. That's a problem, Rod. His attitude about his injuries could cause major difficulties down the line if he gets the idea that Becca doesn't like how he is," she said.

"Hmm, yes, that is something to consider," he said.

"But anyway, I think it's time to let all of this rest until tomorrow," she said. "I need you to bring that naked body over here and do some of the things that you do best with it. Things the other guy never could do even when he was a whole man."

"Claire, he is a whole man. Yeah, his body maybe not be whole, but the important part, his soul, is every bit a man, a big man. I wish I were his equal," said Rodney.

"You're right, I take it back," she said.

"Yes, well anyway, let's see how long it takes me to make you scream. Uh, just not too loud," he said, "no use rubbing his nose in it."

She must have been naked too, because the next things I heard were kind of squishing sounds mixed with moans and choking and yes, some low screams. They, she, actually seemed to be trying to minimize the chance that I might hear her. Nice, I thought, real nice-not!

I'd listen to the last two hours of the recordings tomorrow.

******

"Hey there sleepy head," said Claire, looking straight at me as I wheeled myself out of the back room and into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I guess I did kinda over sleep this morning didn't I." I said.

"That's okay, you have reason to be exhausted for sure," she said.

"Where's Rod, he already off to work?" I said.

"Yes, he's usually out of here by 7:00A.M.

"He told me he offered to loan you our attorney to help with your case against Marcort," she said.

"Yes, but I need to do these kinds of things on my own. I don't want to be putting you out any more than necessary. I remember something Benjamin Franklin said," I said.

"Benjamin Franklin?" she said.

"Yes, 'Fish and visitors smell after three days." She smirked.

"Yes, in general that might be true, but not you. You're a special case, Jim, never doubt it," she said. She almost sounded convincing, well, she would have had I not heard what she'd said to her husband the night before.

"Hmm, maybe," I said. "Anyway, yes, I do need to get some things done, and one of those things is to talk to a lawyer. I have some ideas about what to do with the money if I get any."

"Oh?" she said.

"Yes, I'm gonna set up a trust fund for Rebecca. I need to do my part for her. I know you guys have a lot of money, but even so; I have to do my part. I hope you'll support me to that extent," I said. My little speech got a frustrated look from my ex-wife.

"Jim, your heart is as big as ever there was one. But don't you think that saving her life was kind of bigger than whatever you're considering doing with any money you get from Marcort?" she said.

"It's the way I see things," I said. "Anyway, I haven't gotten anything yet, so worrying about it doesn't mean a damn thing at this point."

"I guess," she said.

"Question, where is Becca. It's almost 11:00A.M." I said.

"She's outside playing with the neighbor kid," said Claire. I nodded. Without the other man in evidence, the scene, me talking to her like I might a wife about our kid, felt kind of good. I knew it, the feeling, was illusory but it held reality for me in the moment.

We talked more about her day, what she was planning on doing, her and Rebecca; and me, if I was interested.

******

Kevin Donnelly was his name: graduate of UC Davis School of Law. He was willing to take my case on contingency. Sixty years old, and an independent now, but he'd come up as a highly touted trial attorney with Courtney and Drummond Associates. He'd gone independent after a disagreement with CDA's top management. He was almost rubbing his hands together in glee when he saw me and heard my story.

"So what are we looking for, ideally," he said.

"I don't know?" I said. "What's usual in situations like this?"

"That depends. We could perhaps get millions. But, to get that kind of money you'd likely need to be willing to wait for a considerable period of time and go through a lot of rather nasty stuff leading up to it, the millions. We'd win, just not fast, and just not have much fun in the getting," he said.

"No way to get it sooner, you know, shorten the wait time?" I said.

"Sure, ask for less, say half a million. I'm pretty sure I could get that the same day we asked for it. You just have to decide whether the quick turn-around is worth losing out on a truly big payday," he said. I nodded.

"I need to think," I said. "Could I call or come back later today?"

"Sure, just let us know what you decide," he said. "And Jim, whatever way you finally decide to go, I'm going to be there for you."

"Thank you, sir. If it matters, I needed to hear that," I said. He smiled and we parted.

Having left the man's office, I felt good. I was sure the man would get things done as fast as he could. I just had to give him a target amount to deal with and then we'd see. I had the cab, really a cab that was a van for disabled people, deliver me to the Crossroads. I'd done much of my best thinking at the C. I needed a drink to help calm me and by the way to make up my mind.

******

"Rod, are you seeing what I've been seeing?" said Claire.

"How do you mean?" he said.

"The man has been acting kinda strange these past few days. Nothing really overt, but kinda, well, not the Jimmy I know. I mean am I nuts?"

"Claire the man's had both of his legs amputated. He's been traumatized real bad. Of course he's not the same guy we both used to know. Nobody would be in his situation," said Rod.

"You're right of course. You're absolutely right. I guess I'm just being paranoid," she said.

"I will say I'm deathly afraid for the man. I mean he has almost no hope of ever having a woman again. If he was an old guy, maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but a man like him, in his thirties, to know that he will never be able to have a woman to be there for him; well, it's gonna be real bad for him for the rest of his life," said Rod.

Claire took on a seriously troubled look. "I see what you mean. Yes, it is going to be very bad for him and all because he saved me and you and our baby," she said. "I have to say as much as you are afraid for him, I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid he might do himself harm," said Claire.

"Don't even go there, Claire. We cannot let that happen. We cannot. We've just got to come up with something that can help make life worth living for our Jimmy; we just have to!" he said.

"Well, I'm open to suggestions," she said.

"For real," he said.

******

I'd spent at least a couple of hours in a booth at the Crossroads trying to make up my mind about things and I finally had. I made the call and laid it on Mister Donnelly, who I did speak to directly, that I wanted him to go for the half mother-in-law. I was told I did have to come in, as I had earlier told him I would, in order to sign the papers. That done, he assured me that I would hear from him in a day or two at the most with the initial results of his presentation of my demands to Marcort Industries.

The good news, I guess it was good news, he got back to me late the next day.

And then there is today, the day after yesterday, today.

They say that once a body reaches rock bottom that there is only one way for things to go and that's up. Well, if anybody ever had proof that he had hit rock bottom it had to be me. And, as if to prove that rule, the call I just got from my law dog, the second such in two days, did just that.

Marcort had accepted my offer. I was to get half a mother-in-law for my injuries and any and all medical costs related to them with no kill date. I was covered for life for all medical expenses directly related to the misadventure of losing my legs when the scaffolding collapsed. The actual settlement apart from the medical stuff was for $700,000 dollars. But, $200,000 went to my lawyer; that seemed fair to me. My cut was enough, I was satisfied.

CHAPTER 11:

Lawyer Donnelly was nothing if not knowledgeable of how to do these kinds of negotiations. But, he was wrong about getting the check on the same day that the deal was consummated. It took two days. The guy was actually apologetic. I was sitting in his office looking at the actual check from Marcort.

"They actually thought they'd be in litigation for forever," said Mister Donnelly.

"Well, I guess they got something out of this too then, right?' I said.

"I'd say that that's a fair assessment," said Mister Donnelly.

"Okay. Sir, I need you to help me set up a trust for my child. Someplace safe and that pays a little interest over the next fifteen years or so," I said.

"Okay, how much of it," he said.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"How much of the half mother-in-law do you want to be put in trust for her," he said.

"All of it," I said.

"Huh? All of it?" he said.

"Yes. I don't want any of it. If I didn't have a child to support I wouldn't have asked for anything. I don't care about money. I need enough to eat and stay dry and by the occasional new pair of shoes or new shirt, but other than that I couldn't care less," I said. "Oops, scratch that. I won't be needin' any new shoes," I said, "that was only a figure of speech."

The man slowly shook his head. "Mister Clausen, you are a strange fellow for sure. But, I see you as a good man. Good luck to you sir, and if you ever need anything, legal stuff, well you've got my number," he said.

"Yes, I do, and thank you," I said.

******

I'd checked out places in Littleton while I was waiting for the money to arrive. I did have some bucks from my previous job, the one Nadine had been able to get for me that I no longer had of course. It was enough to set up housekeeping, and a bit more. I was going to be fine. My social security disability would have to be enough to get by on, and that was the long and the short of it.

My new place was a ground floor apartment actually near the Shadows B&G.; I counted that as a plus even though I was under orders to myself not to drink so much in the future. Oh, and didn't I say? There was the letter: the one I wrote to them.

"Well Claire, I'm out of your hair. I do need to thank you, the two of you for your help these past days, it was good of you and I damn sure needed the help to get back out amongst 'em as they say. But, like I say I won't be bothering you anymore.

"You won't have to worry about changing who you are, or doing different than you like to do, or cleaning up after me or solving my needs for me. And, no there is not enough money in the world to tempt me to be less of a man than I consider myself to be-even though half of me does appear to be missing.

"Nor will you have to help me in and out of the tub, Claire. You'll be happy to know I've figured that one out, and it's not a problem anymore.

"Finally, I'm leaving mostly because I don't want there to be any uncomfortable times for you because I'm down stairs hearing the two of you getting it on. I do have to say I am a little hurt that you find it necessary to make fun of my love making skills. But, whatever, I guess I won't be having to disappoint any other woman now. There's an upside to everything as I am always saying.

"The best to all of you. Give my love to our baby.

"Love, your used to be Jimmy.

"Oh my God!" she screamed, "he heard us! The other night, he somehow heard us!"

"Oh my God is right. But he couldn't have heard us. He wasn't up there with us, and I know he couldn't hear us talking that easily from down there. And the door was closed. No, there was something else.

"He had to have recorded us. He somehow got up here while we were gone and bugged the room. There's no other explanation," said Rodney.

"Rod, we've got to find him and make this right," she said. He slowly shook his head.

"No Claire, there may come a time, and I hope it does, but that time is not right now. He'd spit on us and I wouldn't blame him," he said. "The things he heard… " She slowly nodded her reluctant agreement.

"I wonder where he is?" she said.

******

I had to talk to Sammy before I actually got out of town. After leaving the big house I had the cab company drop me at a motel near the Crossroads. I'd stay there, at the Saddleback, for a couple of days getting my act together.

I called Sammy to meet with me at the motel. I needed to keep him from joining forces with the cheaters to look for me. Oh, I knew the rich guy could find me. And, I pretty much knew he'd be coming to Sam and maybe even Henry to intercede for him when the search began if there were a search. I needed for my buds, my true buds, to help guarantee that mister rich guy and the rich woman would get the message. I had a plan to guarantee that Sam at least would help me out in that regard.

The door to my room was slightly ajar. I was sitting at the little table in the place with my recorder and my headphones lying on the table in front of me.

Sammy knocked once and that pretty much opened the door thereby.

"Come in Sam. Good to see you," I said as he closed the door and took the seat across from me."

"Jimmy, what are you doing here? I thought you were staying with your ex and her husband at least for the next while," he said.

"I was, but it didn't work out. That's why you're here. I need you to listen to something and then we'll talk," I said.

"Okay," he said. He eyed the recorder and the headset.

"Put 'em on," I said. He did so, but he did so without a lot of enthusiasm.

For the next fifteen minutes he listened intently. His facial expression changed from interested to surprised to shock to actual anger. He removed the headset and placed it gingerly on the table.

"I see," he said.

"Now you know why I'm not there anymore, nor will I ever be there again," I said. "Sam, do not help them find me. Please. Okay?" He nodded.

"Jim, you can stay with me if you want. I do have an extra room," he said. I smiled.

"Sam, I appreciate the offer. But, you and Colleen are tying the knot, and I really don't feature listening to her screams of pleasure each night while you too get it on. No, I had a totally different reason for having you hear that recording.

"Sam, the man is likely to come after me, I know him. And, I'm betting that he will ask you to talk to me, try to convince me of his sincerity and hers. I don't want to deal with it and, like I said, I am asking you to not cooperate with him," I said.

"Okay, Jim, but he didn't sound too bad in what he said on the recording," said Sam. "Her, maybe yes but not him."

"No, but he also sees me as a burden; he's just willing to deal with it. I don't want to be a burden to anyone.

"No, I can't be there. I'm moving back to Littleton. My disability money will take care of me basically, and in spite of my situation, I'm going to try and get a job, any job. Just something to keep myself busy if you get my drift," I said. My bud nodded.

"You got it man. You know, I have to say it, but you're better off without her. I can't believe after all you did that she actually thinks like that. Well, I guess there's no accounting for what some people do and say," he said.

"No, no accounting," I said.

******

I was back in Littleton, The Starlight Apartments sported monthly rates and no long term lease to complicate my life. The place was shabby, but at a mere $400 a month with utilities except phone included, I could afford it. My $1,500 hundred a month disability would be covering my expenses quite well actually. I still had to eat, and cabbing it everywhere was going to be kind of costly, but I'd get by.

And, yes, I did think about my ex and my baby, and even my ex-bud sometimes; well, it was inevitable. I did miss my baby. I'd not been around her very much, but the little I had been had been an eye opener. I actually understood my ex-wife's misgivings. I would have been a major interloper where her plans were concerned. But, that would have been the case even without my accident. The difference was that my saving her life forced her to be way more accommodating than would have been required of her in a more mundane situation. It left her in a place where she had almost no control of things; I'm sure, her being the kind of person she'd turned out to be, that such had to rankle big time. I had to smile at that particular truth.

What I didn't realize myself at that moment was how the reality of her position was going to play out in the long run. Her guilt resulting from her attitude and my discovering it was way more consequential than I would ever have guessed or imagined. But it would be a long time before those chickens came home to roost-six years is by definition long time.

******

And then it was six years later and I got the visit. It would turn out to be the most stunning visit in terms of content that I ever got or would likely ever get, oh yeah.

I was poor, but getting by. I had heard nothing from or about the bad guys in over six years. I was forty-two years old. I was healthy sort of, read I wasn't drinking too much and I was psychologically stable if not actually happy. Well, to be happy a man has to have a woman who is his woman and who cares about him and only him. I didn't have that and likely never would, more's the pity.

It was actually my birthday. I'd gotten a card from Sammy and Henry, both of whom I'd had some minimal contact with over these last several years. They were good. Sammy and Colleen had tied the knot and by all accounts were doing good. I had to sigh yet again, why not me too. Well it was what it was.

My birthday and no party and no visitors. I did have a nice bottle George Dickel Rye, so the evening wouldn't be a total loss. I toasted in the direction of the Valley. It was almost 9:00pm He was probably fucking her as I toasted. "Have a nice fuck!" I said aloud to their spirits of the night.

Just as I took the ceremonial sip, there was a knock, a knock on 'my' door! I was sitting near my little table and I almost fell out of my chair with surprise.

I had not to this moment felt especially vulnerable being legless and wheelchair ridden, but for some reason I did now. I swallowed and rolled over to the door and opened it.

"Claire!"

"Yes, it's me," she said. "May I come in?" I didn't move, didn't respond; I just stared. She took matters into her own hands and slipped past me into my less than ostentatious digs.

I pushed the door closed, well it was cold on this November 6th night. I turned to see that she'd taken a seat, uninvited, at my little table. "Got another one of those?" She was referencing my old fashioned glass still almost full of Rye.

I still hadn't said word one since speaking her name upon opening my door. I wheeled myself to the sink and reached up; it was kind of a stretch. She grimaced when she saw that I had to struggle a tiny bit to get the glass. The good news was that the bottle was on the sink. At least she didn't say anything out loud. I poured her one finger and wheeled it over to her.

"Thanks," she said. She downed half of the shot. I gave her a look that wordlessly asked the obvious question.

"To see you of course. I mean it has been forever," she said.

"So what? I know what you think of me and how interested you are in having me around especially around Rebecca. So, so what if you haven't seen me in forever.

"Oh, and I'm doing good, Claire; I don't need the stress of your sympathy. I don't need the hassle of having to worry whether or not I'm in the way of your happiness. I don't want to be a problem when it comes to my daughter, yours and mine. So why then the hell are you bothering me this late on a week night," I said.

"Whew, I've got my work cut out for me don't I?" she said.

"No you don't. I'm not asking anything from you or from him, not anything," I said. "You have no work to do whatsoever as far as I'm concerned."

"Jimmy, I am so damn sorry. Over these past few years I've had a lot of sleepless night, because… " she said.

"Because he's keeping you up late making whoopee with you," I said, the sarcasm literally dripping from my tongue.

"Jimmy! Stop that right now!" she said.

"No! You stop it! Stop telling me what to do or to think! I'm none of your goddamn business. You divorced me. Leave me the hell alone. Got it!" I said.

"Oh Jimmy, I am so sorry. I don't mean to do any of that. Did I do that?" she said.

"Yes!" I said.

"Jimmy, I've come here tonight on a mission that you just have to let me succeed in the doing of," she said.

"Huh? What mission? Making me miss the reruns of Days of Our Lives?" I said.

"No, no," she said. "No, I've come here to talk to you long and deep, and…"

"And?" I said.

"Well, and to fuck your eyes out," she said. I stared. I stared hard. I stared at her.

"Huh?" I said.

"Jim, I know you've been, well, without for a long long time, and it's my fault. You need to let me make amends, at least a little bit," she said.

"A mercy fuck for me? A pity fuck for me? Gee, I can't tell you how turned on I am to that absolutely wonderful idea. Forget it woman! I may be hard up but I will never be that hard up. Getting your husband's sloppy seconds has no allure for me whatsoever! Got it!" I said.

"Jimmy, shut the fuck up. You need to think for once in your life and give me a chance here. If anybody's getting mercy here it would damn sure be me, not you!" she said.

Well, okay, I shut up. And, hearing her reasoning, I had to admit she did make a good point. I would in fact be having mercy on her more than she would on me. But I was still skittish, unsure, in doubt, and didn't have a clue what I should do. The one thing that was for sure true: I was hornier than I had ever been looking at the beauty sitting across from me.

"You make a good argument," I said. "But well, I don't know. I mean, yes, I'm desperate, For sure I'm desperate, but… You are so damn beautiful; I want you so bad, Claire… but… " I started breaking up.

"It's okay with Rodney," she said. Until she said that, I was caving, but not now.

"So, you asked his okay to do me, but you didn't grant me the same privilege for the three years you did him behind my back," I said. "Just forget it, Claire. Get out and stay out. Go live your rich happy life with our baby and never darken my door again."

"Look, Jimmy, give me a chance here. Yes, I betrayed you, so did Rodney. But we're different now, older. We owe you for many things. And, you shutting us out without so much as a chance to redeem ourselves is almost as bad and cruel as we were to you. Damn it, Jim, give us a chance, me a chance. Please, I beg of you," she said.

She was so desperate that I began to actually feel sorry for her.

"You say my old bud was actually okay with it, me doing you. I mean legless me?" I said. "I guess he wouldn't be too worried about a legless pauper like me would he. So, why not sacrifice his wife's pussy for one night. Right, Claire?"

"It's not like that, Jim. We know you're hurting, how could you not be. And yes, I am looking for a little mercy here. And why shouldn't I. I'm scared, Jimmy, very very scared. I need you to love me again. No, not like before when we were married; that's not happening. I have come to love another that way, but I love you too, and maybe even on a higher level in some ways than my husband. And, connecting with you tonight is maybe the beginning of rebuilding our relationships," she said.

"I'm not going to let you dishonor your marriage to the other man. But for what it's worth, in these last minutes, I have come to a decision to forgive and forget or try to.

"But Claire, what I do not and cannot do, not now, is reconnect with you as you put it. I can't be around you. I love you still, and yes, I mean that way: the way you can't love me as you say. Being around you is just a tease. If I can't have all of you, and why would you want only half a man, and that's what I am, I don't want any of you. I hope you can understand where I'm coming from, Claire. I just can't be around you. I will miss you and my baby, my God how much I am going to miss her. But that's the way it has to be. Please honor my request okay?" I said. I was breaking up big time and sobbing, and choking out the words and there was nothing for it.

"I am going to miss her, my baby so much, Claire. Please leave, I can't do this. Please!" I was screaming.

"Jimmy, I am so damn sorry. But I guess I do understand where you're coming from. And, I want you to know that as time goes on, well, maybe God will be good to both of us and bring us back together once again. Jimmy, I have to hope that that will happen. Okay?" she said. I just shrugged and sobbed and sobbed some more. I wanted what she wanted, but there was still too wide a gulf between us for anything like rebuilding a relationship of any kind.

"Just go, Claire, just go!" I said.

"Jimmy-I… " She looked down, rose from her seat, and walked out. I think she was actually embarrassed. Well hell, so was I.

******

So I'm a charity case am I, well, things could be worse. I could have been dumped by my wife for money, I could have fathered a child that the mother didn't want me around, I could have been condemned to a wheelchair for the rest of my life: oh my God! those things did happen to me! What am I going to do?

The answer to that question was to feel sorry for myself, be depressed, and be lost and lonely forever. So, rethinking my first thoughts: things really couldn't be any worse than they already were. Fuck! I needed a woman, any woman, Quasimodo's twin sister would've been good, oh yeah.

There was one thing that did come out of my conversation with my ex-wife. I finally realized that being eternally horny was not good for my health. I had to find me a piece of ass somewhere that could look past my legless self and allow me to get my rocks off.

Thinking about it, there was only one thing left for me to do: find me a girl of the evening who could be had for the kind of scratch that I could afford. I could do a hundred for an hour of a prostie's time. It's not like I'd be doing it twice a week which is what I really needed. Once every couple of months would at least keep me from going nuts; yes, it would. Problem was: where could I find such a lady. I wasn't exactly skilled in the art of the pay for play scene. And, add to that, Littleton wasn't exactly a hub of opportunity for guys lookin' to get their rocks off especially guys who couldn't dance.

Well maybe the barkeep at Shadows could steer me. Bartenders knew everything, right? I fell asleep dreaming of my next piece of ass; the last had been with Nadine some six years gone. I had hope.

******

I was on my third round of JD, but I'd just started it, so I wasn't out of it, yet. I looked down the bar to where Sub was polishing glassware. Sub, Sebastian Goode, was my guy at Shadows. He actually knew how to make a Singapore sling; I mean who the hell ever orders one of those. Nobody I know, well, except me-on special days. We'd been talking one day and he bragged that he could mix anything. I called him on it; he backed up his brag.

I raised my hand in the universal signal for service. He saw me, lowered the glass he'd been polishing and came down to me.

"Jim, you've hardly touched that one," he said.

"No, no, I don't want another one; this one's gonna be my last," I said. "I'd like to ask you kind of a private question, know what I mean?"

He gave me a concerned look. I was always getting looks like that as soon as anybody saw my legless situation. "Okay, sure," he said, finally.

"Sub, where would a guy go to find, you know…?" He gave me another of those looks, but then seemed to get it.

"Oh," he said. "You mean a…"

"Yes," I said. He looked dubious, but he nodded toward a lady I'd never seen before at the other end of the bar who was sipping a wine. He'd been talking to her off and on while he did the dishes.

"Her?" I said. He nodded in the affirmative. "Could you introduce me?" He shrugged and went down the bar. He spoke to her. She looked toward me and came down the bar to me.

"Hi," she said. Then she saw my situation. "Uh, I'm sorry, but I've something I gotta do or… " She all but ran away from me and out the door.

It was so clear that I was getting blown off. Shit I couldn't even get a prostie to do me. Maybe I should've taken Claire up on her offer. My humiliation would have been total, but wasn't it already. Fuck!

I threw a twenty down on the bar and wheeled myself out. I didn't even look back to wave goodbye to Sub. I was so humiliated that I wasn't sure that I could ever even go back to Shadows. I probably would, but not tomorrow. I had to take a deep breath and just try to forget my latest failure. This was my life. I knew it and I just had to learn to deal with it. Fuck!

The cabbie dropped me home ten minutes later. My digs never seemed so lonely as they did just then. The good news was the place was quiet. I guess it was good news.

As I reached for my keys, the kid that had night duty on weekends came up behind me surprising me.

"Let me get that for you, sir," he said. He opened my door for me. "Uh, Mister Clausen, you have a message."

He handed me a slip of paper. It was from Sammy, he was going to come by the next day. Well, a little friendly company would be welcome for sure.

CHAPTER 12:

"Yes, I met with him, sandbagged him really. The good part was that he listened to me. The bad part was that in the end it didn't make any difference. He still sent me packing," she said. He shook his head slowly.

"I guess we could have predicted the last part. But, maybe him talking to you at all means that some of his anger, despair, what all is fading just a little," said Rodney.

"Maybe, it was like he wanted me to give him an excuse to come in out of the cold. But, in the end, like I said, he just couldn't make the leap. And, well, how can I blame him. What he heard that day must have absolutely destroyed him. Thinking about it later, well, I don't know how I could have been so shallow and cruel," she said, "even in private."

"That goes for me too," he said.

"Hah, not really. As I recall you were on his side in the argument," she said.

"Yes, but he heard me talking about doing you; that was way worse than what you said. I essentially questioned or threatened his manhood. There is nothing worse than that not for a guy," he said. She nodded.

"So what are we going to do?" she said. "I offered to do him and he even turned that down. That in spite of the fact that his dick was as hard as a tree trunk. I could see the bulge in the front of his pants quite plainly. He wanted me, no, make that he desperately wanted me; but his pride, ego, macho manhood whatever got in the way."

"I just don't know at this point. Someday we have to try again. But when 'that' someday will be; well, I just don't know," he said.

"If I'd been physically strong enough I would have raped him just to get his ball sack emptied out. He needs that in the worst way, I know that, every woman knows that about a man," she said.

"Yes, and that's a true thing for sure," he said.

******

I was sitting at a table in Shadows tipping one back. It was my first of the day. I'd been waiting for the man who was approaching from across the empty dance floor to where I had taken up residence.

"Hi, Jim," said Sammy, plopping down on the bench across from me. "How's tricks?"

"How's tricks" I said, repeating his words. "Interesting wordology, Samuel."

"Huh?" he said.

"Nothing, just the timing of you coming to visit and my most recent experiences," I said.

The man looked at me curiosity painting his features. "Huh? What experiences?" he said.

"I tried to be this gal's trick the other night and she declined my invitation, and I had a hundred bucks to offer her. Maybe she couldn't believe that I might be that well heeled," I said. "Or maybe me being legless was the ultimate turnoff even for a working girl." My friend looked away.

"Jesus," he said, finally, "that is a major bummer. Jim, I don't know, can't know, how bad it is for you. But, I can maybe guess some of it. So what did the broad say exactly?"

"Not much, she looked interested, even with me in the wheelchair, but then she looked and saw and was no longer interested. Said she was sorry but just remembered that she had to be someplace," I said.

"Man, I don't know what to say. I mean that's just something really not good," he said.

"Yeah it is. But tell me, how are you and Colleen getting on," I said.

"Good. She loves me and me her. You know. She's a good woman, Jim. You need to find one like her. Asshole prosties notwithstanding there are plenty of women who are looking for a real man, and you are most definitely one of those," he said.

"Yeah, well hope springs eternal," I said. "My ex hunted me down a few nights ago. She actually offered to spread for me. Said my ex-best friend was okay with it too."

"And, judging by what you just said, you turned her down, right?" he said.

"Yeah, I turned her down, that's all I'd need is a mercy fuck from my cheating whore of an ex-wife," I said. "If she wants somebody to make her feel less guilty about all she's done me, she's gonna need to be looking somewhere else. I ain't got no time for her, nor for him either if it comes to that. The stuff I heard them sayin' about me makes any kind of liaison with them a non-happening."

Sam and I hung out till the last of the dogs were hung. It was good having a friend like Sam even if I didn't get to see him much.

******

"Hello, Sam," she said, coming up behind him and surprising him. How is everything with you and your wife," said Claire. He gave her a "What business is it of yours." look.

"We're fine. Nobody's tried to steal her away from me; well yet at any rate," he said. She winced but didn't take any obvious offense at the implied analogy. "She'll be joining me here in a few."

"I'm glad you're doing well," she said. "Mind if we talk a bit?" He shrugged, but didn't tell her no. He'd been cued by Jimmy that she might try to enlist his help to get her ex-husband to lighten up about having anything to do with her or her husband.

She led him to a booth against the far wall. The Crossroads wasn't all that busy at 3:00P.M on Saturdays.

They settled in. He'd taken his beer with him. A bar girl came by and asked her what she'd like.

"One of those," said Claire pointing to what her booth partner was having. The girl nodded, and headed off to fill the order.

"We've been here before haven't we Sam," she said. Her hands were folded on the table in front of her.

"If you mean you've chatted me up fairly regularly since your divorce from my bud, well yes, we've been here before," said Sammy.

"Sam, I'm not here to cause anybody trouble or to make anyone uncomfortable. I just need to find a way to help our Jimmy to get it together and be able to make a life for himself. Jesus, Sam, I need your help. God damn it I do," she said.

For the life of him he was feeling sorry for the woman. He could see she meant what she said. But the problem was it didn't make a damn bit of difference. She'd destroyed his bud, and then he'd gone and sacrificed any chance he'd had for a normal life by saving hers and that of her whole "new" family. It was pretty damn clear that there was absolutely nothing she could do, any of them could do, to help the guy. He didn't need sympathy he needed a woman's love, and the odds of him ever getting it were long to say the least.

"You know I went to see him recently?" she said.

"Yeah, he told me. He was sick at heart for days because of that, you going to see him. I think he would have liked to take you up on your offer, but he would never do anything to help you cheat on your now husband. He's not that kind," said Sammy.

"He told you about that!" said Claire. Sammy nodded.

"How embarrassing," she said.

"Yeah for him," said Sam. "But my man lives with embarrassment every day. No damn way to escape it now, not after, well after." She nodded.

"He needs to try and find a woman of his own. A better one than I ever was," she said.

"Yeah, well he's had a little trouble in those respects," he said. There was something about the way he'd said this last that caught her attention.

"Sam?" she said.

"After you left him that night. I think it was the next night in fact. He hit up a prostitute. Because of your visit, he was super desperate to get his ashes hauled. The prostie at first showed an interest, but then when she saw his legs, what was left of them, she dumped on him and ran off. I know for a fact that he actually cried, sobbed, out of frustration after that. The man is ultimately desperate. I almost wish he were gay. Hell, I'd bend over for him if he were, anything to help him out," said Sammy.

"Oh my God!" she squealed. "Oh my fucking God! Could anything else bad happen to that man!"

"I don't know about that," said Sam, "but if there is anything else out there that could hurt a man, he'll probably run into it. The man just hasn't got a chance if you know what I mean."

"Sam, I don't know what to do. I need your help. I need it bad. Any chance?" she said.

"Nope. He told me that he really and truly just wants you and that man of yours out of the picture. He needs time, a lot of time. You and that man of yours bugging him ain't gonna cut it, Missus Pollard. Just walk away. Leave the man to his life what's left of it," he said.

"Can't do it, Sam. I know you're right. It might indeed be best if Rodney and I left him alone. But I just can't. I have to believe there is something left of his feelings for us and I aim to find out what it is and use it to help the man. I have to," she said.

"Apart from you divorcing your husband and remarrying our guy it ain't happening," he said. "And, I might add you having control of his little girl and cutting him out of her life like you have is kind of the coup de gras to him having anything to do with you."

"Sam, I never had any intention of cutting Jim out of Rebecca's life!" said Claire. "Did he say that!"

"No, I heard the recordings. It was pretty clear to me that you think he would be nothing more than a troublesome problem and you intended to make sure you could control the situation with him and her," said Sam.

"Oh," she said. "Sam, what I said that day was born of worry, I admit. But, I would never have stopped Jimmy from seeing or being a part of his daughter's life."

"No, but you'd be controlling things to make sure everything was done your way. And you see him being around her as just 'another' problem that you'd need to be dealing. All of the things you said, lady were killers of any hopes Jim had of having a significant relationship, a parental relationship, with his baby. You said it, he believes it, and so do I," said Sam.

"Sam, really, it may have sounded that way. I guess it did. But it's not what I really think or believe," said Claire.

"Yeah, well you'll play hell trying to convince anybody who hears that recording of that now, including me," he said.

"Sam, when you see him. Could you would you please…"

"Assure him of your good intentions? Can't, Claire. I don't believe you myself. I think you're telling the truth when you say you want to help our guy, but you will never convince me or him that you'd give him free rein with Rebecca, his Rebecca. And that's what it would take to even begin to normalize things. Well, at least that's what I think."

She gave him a look that spelled interest. Could she do it; could she give the man free rein with their child? She would be talking to her husband that very night on that topic.

******

"So no dice with Sammy?" said Rodney Pollard.

"No. He pretty much told me to get lost, not in so many words but that was the import," said Claire.

"Man oh man," he said.

"He did say something that I want to run by you," she said.

"Oh?" he said.

"Well, it wasn't anything he heard from Jim directly, but it was what he, Sammy, thinks and he does kind of have the inside dope if you know what I mean," she said.

"Okay?" he said.

"Sam thinks that my words relating to Jimmy and his relationship with Rebecca were the last straw for Jimmy. Sam says that Jimmy thinks that I don't want him to have any influence or authority when it comes to making decisions for Rebecca's welfare. Further, Sam thinks that there is no hope of getting Jimmy to lighten up until and unless he were to be given unrestricted free rein in making decisions about our daughter," said Claire.

"Okay, I can believe that that is so," said Rodney. "So are you thinking of offering him that?"

"I don't know. Maybe. What do you think?" she said.

"I don't know either. I mean how far would you take it or allow it to be taken I guess is the way to say it?" he said.

"I think that Sam may be right. If he is, Jimmy would not be satisfied, not anymore, with any restrictions whatsoever. To give up any influence you and I would have or hope to have per our baby, and it is our baby yours and mine as much as his, well it might be just too much," she said. "I mean too much even given all he's done for us."

"Hmm, maybe," he said. "But, what if we just asked him what he wanted and expected. Put it on him?" he said. She gave her husband a look.

"Yes, yes that might work. If we task ourselves with setting limits or even no limits we'd probably be harder on ourselves than he would be. Well, probably," she said.

"Yes, that would be the hope. I mean that he'd be more reasonable than we would be. Yes," he said.

******

I'd been studious in avoiding the bar, Shadows. I didn't need whiskey, I needed a woman. So since I didn't have one I dreamed about having one. Dreaming while not as good as whiskey in some respects allowed me to feel sorry for myself far more efficiently. And feeling sorry for one's self was actually therapeutic as I'd discovered over these past years. Also, not being at the bar as much-I did still warm a seat there once or twice a week-I was minimizing the chance that I'd be easy prey for them to just walk in on me and embarrass me.

My fears per this last were not unfounded. Sebastian had clued me that I'd gotten visits from the bad guys a couple of times. They hadn't talked to him, but he'd recognized them when they came in on two separate occasions, and he'd clued me. It was clear to me that they were not done harassing me.

I hadn't seen Sammy since our last conversation, and I kinda wondered at that, but then he was a married, so maybe that made sense. If I had a woman, she sure as hell would have been dominating my time and attention, not some whiny loser like me.

But the well paid plans of mice and men do occasionally go awry. It was again a late week day evening after 9:00pm by a few. The knock on my door upset me. I had a premonition as to who it might be. I was right.

Wheeling myself over to the door, I opened it. I surprised them. "Greetings to you visitors from cheatersville," I said, smiling, I was clearly not being nice in spite of the smile. I got looks from the two of them on several levels. It was clear they were confused.

"James?" said Rodney.

"Who else would be bothering me at this hour on a week night," I said.

"James, we're not here to bother you. And, I've brought the wine," he said. So far the woman hadn't uttered so much as a hello, so I did.

"And hello to you, Claire, you look especially lovely tonight," I said, and she did.

"Thank you, James, and hello to you too," she said.

I wheeled myself back into the center of the room, leaving them to either come in or leave. They opted to come in, oh, and they did shut the door behind them which saved me having to do it for them.

"Well?" I said. "How do you plan to make my life harder this time?"

"Jimmy, please, you know damn well that we have no intention of making your life hard or any of it. Exactly the opposite," she said.

"Really, Jim, Claire and I only want to help you and, well, make you an offer you're going to have a damn hard time trying to refuse," said Rodney.

I laughed out loud. I laughed hard. My side began to hurt I was laughing so hard. The two of them were clearly disconcerted. I finally caught my breath. "I gotta ask you, Rodney old bud. Were you really okay with me doing your wife; she said you were?"

"Jim, I… " he started.

"Jim?" said Claire, not understanding my hilarity, "why are you laughing?" I ignored her meaningless question.

"If you're here, Rodney old bud, to offer me a job or money or gifts or an hour with your naked wife then you've wasted your time coming over here. I don't want anything from you, either of you. More I wouldn't accept it even if my life depended on it. Am I making myself clear?" I said.

"Jim, I hurt you. I know it, and I apologize, sincerely apologize. But no, we're not here bearing gifts though you could have damn near anything you want if it comes to that. All you have to do is ask, hell, just hint and it's yours. But no, that's not it tonight," said Rodney.

They'd tweaked my interest. "Oh?" I said. "You know I should tell you I almost caved when Claire offered to do me the other night. But, I remained strong. I don't stab best friends in the back it ain't who I am."

"Jim, it's about Rebecca," said Claire. Now I was concerned.

"She's hurt? What?" I said.

"No, no, no," said Rodney. I breathed a sigh of relief. The look I got from Claire for my moment of concern and subsequent relief said a lot. She was glad. Why she was glad was still a mystery, but there was no doubt about it, she was glad.

"Oh, okay," I said. "So how is my baby. You know, the one you don't want me to be around too much." I got another look from Claire that was pure frustration.

"Jim, the stuff you heard on that recording. My God how that must have hurt you," she said

"Well you are sure as hell right about that one," I said, still smiling but no longer laughing.

"Anyway, after thinking about it every damn day since, I came to realize just what a paranoid asshole I'd been. Jim, you have every right to be in that girl's life and in ways that you see fit, not ways that I see fit or Rodney," said Claire.

"Oh, and you came to this realization when, how?" I said.

"Truthfully, as a result of a conversation I had with a friend of yours," she said.

"Sammy?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

Things were becoming clearer now. They hadn't actually said much yet, made no actual offer. But I was feeling that they were about to make me an offer that would allow me a larger role in my baby's life. How much larger was the question and it didn't matter to me anymore anyway. It wouldn't matter because they would still be the ones ruling the roost and setting the limits. The limits might be generous, but they would be their limits; I'd actually have no real say. Hence, their offer would be meaningless to me and totally unacceptable.

"Jim, we owe you more than we can ever repay. We know it, and you for sure know it. So we're here tonight to make you an offer you really can't refuse," said Rodney.

"Oh, and what are the rules going to be?" I said.

"No rules. Well, none that Claire or I set. You'll be setting them," he said.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" I said.

"Jim, your word is going to be law when it comes to our baby," said Claire. "No limits for you whatsoever. Well, except for you to tell us what you expect, want, need, what all."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Jim, apart from the fact that Rebecca will be living with us, which is just a practicality, whatever you say in terms of her upbringing, visitation, whatever you want will be how it is going to be. And as for visitation or residence, if you get a better place than this cheapass apartment, she can live with you part of the time too. How much time would also be up to you, and maybe her. We'd appreciate a say in that, but it would still be your decision not ours," she said. They'd stopped me, boy had they!

"And how would I know that you'd keep your word?" I said.

"Well, I mean I don't know," he said, apparently stumped… but then he seemed to get an idea. "Jim, how about we, no you, if you want, get a lawyer to draw up a contract detailing what we say tonight. We'd sign it and then you'd have legal papers to assure you that what we are saying is really and truly the way it would be." I was nodding.

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe."

We talked some more, mainly about the baby and how she was doing and all. I'd had to agree with them on one level: they had made me an offer I couldn't refuse. And, I did consider that they were being sincere, yes I did.

I'd be going to their place to pick up the baby to make a day of it at the zoo Saturday, three days hence. I had to admit to being nervous. I knew the score: almost everybody felt uncomfortable around a double amputee. Well, there was nothing for it. My baby would have to get used to it at some point. She'd seen me before, and she hadn't seemed to be too uncomfortable, but… Man I was nervous!

******

The dynamic duo had offered to have the two of us, Rebecca and me, chauffeured around, but I nixed that. It would set a precedent that I couldn't take care of my own needs; I didn't want that, oh no, I did not want that.

The public van picked me up and took me to their castle on the hill. I had to wonder how my kid could be made to be interested in residing with me, even part time, that at any place I could ever afford. But, maybe, kids were funny and maybe she wouldn't see it as too much of a come down or even notice the difference; well, one could hope.

"Hi again, Jim," said Rodney, coming down the drive to greet me. Rebecca was only yards behind him. The upside of that was that I didn't have to get out of the van, get my wheelchair out of the back, go up to the entrance of the Towers, get the kid, and the come back down the drive, put the chair back in the van, and get back inside with my daughter. I guess I appreciated the thought on his part. I Guess I should mention if I haven't already, that the drivers of the vans are experienced and have and do help with all of the above mentioned practical matters. Anyway, that's the gig, just to clarify things; and yes, I do still have to pay for transport; they are regular cabs and a private business.

"Hi daddy," said Rebecca. "I've missed you." Oh my, how nice that sounded to me.

"Well, I missed you too baby," I said. Rodney waved goodbye and she got in the van and we got going.

"Daaddyyyy," she whined, taking her seat. "I'm not a baby anymore, I'm 13!"

"Oh my, I'm sorry," I said. "You most certainly are not a baby. Thirteen, you say. I should've known that, but I didn't realize it."

Our day at the zoo went off without a hitch. I think my daughter was trying her best to not make it hard on me in terms of where we went in the place and what we saw. I had to appreciate that at the very least.

We got home just before dark: we had gone out to get something to eat after the day at the zoo. Well it was still daylight savings time. It didn't get dark till almost nine. My ex-wife came out to meet me when the van arrived.

"Hi guys!" she said brightly as the van's door popped open.

Rebecca got down and hugged her mom and ran inside. "You had fun then," said Claire.

"Yes, yes we did," I said. "She liked the bird sanctuary the best me the big cats."

"Really, I like he big cats too," she said. "Look, Jim, could I persuade you to join us for dinner?"

"Uh, not tonight. Rain check?" I said.

"Yes, yes, of course," she said. "We'll be looking forward to it." I nodded.

We shared a few more words and then it was time to get going. The ride back to my place was a time for me to think about the day and how it had gone. And, even the more so, the proposition that the two of them had come up with to get me to soften my feelings toward them. I had no illusions about it all. They felt guilty and wanted to make amends. I wasn't actually into making it easy for them, but the baby-thirteen or not-was my main concern at this point. I had no woman, but a kid was almost as good, yes it was.

CHAPTER 13:

"Well, dare I hope that the worst is behind us?" said Claire.

"Not by a long shot. He'll be looking for evidence that everything we've proposed was a sham, but over the long haul maybe it'll all work out," he said. "And, he didn't ask for a lawyer to get involved yet, but he still may, so that's a small concern."

"Yes, well, all we can do is hope I guess," she said.

"That cab, van, he's always using to get around in that has got to be a super hassle for him. There are cars that have the equipment to make it possible for handicapped folks like him to drive and get around," he said. "They are super expensive. He couldn't afford one, but we could. Getting him to accept something that big, big to him, would be the problem."

"Yes, I've heard of cars like that. But you're right, even suggesting something like that to him would get him to thinking that we were trying to buy him off. No, it has to be his idea. And if he ever did ask us about it, we mustn't seem too happy to accommodate him. Man, that ex of mine is kind of a pain in the ass sometimes in spite of everything," said Claire.

"I guess," he said. "You know that is one area where we might actually be able to convince Sammy to give us a hand. It's worth talking to him about it if only obliquely."

She gave him a look. "You know, yes, I think that that might be the way for sure. And like you said, obliquely. We can't seem to be pressuring him," said Claire.

"The good news is that Rebecca may be the catalyst to solving all of our problems, his and ours," he said.

"Seems so," she said. "But, the other biggee is still out there waiting to bite us in the ass."

"Yes, a woman. Hell, I'd buy him one if he wouldn't ever know about it and end up hating us more than he does now," he said.

"Funny," she said. "You cannot buy love and slavery is still illegal. And, in case you're wondering you did not buy me."

"I know. You are one of the few incorruptibles who actually does marry for love and not money. I got lucky there," he said.

"And, so did I, get lucky I mean. That is one thing I do regret about marrying Jim in the first place. We were young and thought we had it together. But, then you came along and I realized, deep down I realized, that I'd made a mistake. Not because Jim wasn't a good husband; he was good husband and a good man. I just didn't love him enough to be a one man woman, not for him. Talk about shitty decisions," she said.

"Yes, well all water under the bridge. At some point we have to hope that he'll find someone, some woman, to love him the way he deserves to be loved. Anyway that's the hope," he said.

"You know, I'm going to take matters into my own hands and talk to Sammy about the car thing and how it would facilitate things for Jim and Rebecca. I really think that is one thing that must happen. The man needs to be able to get around. He has to accept our help this time. I think if we are delicate enough about it that we can get the ball rolling. We can even ask him to pay us back. Him paying us back, him owing us, might be a winner. I don't know; whaddya you think?" She said.

"Yes, I think it's a god idea, like I said. Can't hurt regardless," he said.

******

She saw the man at the bar; he was alone. She strode up to him.

"Sammy, fancy meeting you here," said Claire Pollard. "How are things with you and your family today?"

He looked at her and smiled too. "Good, and thank you for asking," he said.

"Well, good. Your wife's name? Colleen isn't it?" she said.

"Yes, it is," he said.

"So, you're here alone tonight, no Jimmy or Henry?" she said.

"Yes, my wife works nearby. She'll be joining me, but not the boys, not tonight. Henry's got a poker game going and Jim is exhausted," he said.

"Exhausted!" she said, showing concern.

"Yes, that's what he said when I called him today. Colleen and I are going out to dinner and invited him to go along, but he declined said he was still gassed," he said.

"Gassed? Why?" she said.

"I guess he took his daughter to the zoo last weekend and it really got to him. I guess he's not as strong as he thought he was. But, according to him it was the best time he'd had in a coon's age," said Sammy.

"The zoo! That was a week and a half ago, not last weekend," she said. "He seemed fine when they got back from the trip. But you say he's still gassed?"

"That's what he said. He doesn't begrudge getting overly tired. He just said that in the future he's gonna plan a little better when it comes to outings with his kid," said Sammy. She nodded.

She had to think. It was true that they hadn't heard from him in nine days. Becca, had gotten a couple of phone calls, she knew, she'd told her about those but no visits or requests for any. A matter for concern? She'd be talking to her husband.

"Sammy, we, my husband and I are concerned about him. He must be having trouble getting around and all. You looking after him still?" she said.

"As much as I can. He's kind of an independent cuss, but you know that I'm sure," he said.

"Oh, yeah, I do know that for damn sure. If he'd let us we'd help him out a lot more, but like you said, he's too damn independent and proud to allow anything big to be coming from us.

"I'd like to get him one of those cars that are set up for handicapped folks, but I know he'd shut me down if I even suggested such a largess. Well, you know what I mean," said Claire.

"Yes, well I figure that's about right," said Sam.

******

"So you talked to the man," said Rodney.

"Yes, I think it went well too. I did mention the handicapped enabled car. But I didn't ask him to say anything to Jim about it. If he does it'll all be on him not you or me," said Claire.

"Hmm, well good, I guess," said Rodney.

"Where's Rebecca?" said Claire.

"She's over at her friend's house, Gloria's," he said. She nodded. Young teens do have their moments, she thought.

******

"So how was your time at Gloria's?" said Claire.

"Fun," said Rebecca. "Her mom took us to the movies."

"Well good," said Claire.

"Mom, how come dad hasn't come by?" said Rebecca.

"Uh-I don't know, honey. But he has called right?" said Claire.

"Yes, four times since we went to the zoo. But that was two weeks ago!" she said. "I asked him to come over. He said he would."

"Okay, I'm sure he will soon then," said Claire. Her daughter nodded.

******

"She's actually concerned that he hasn't been by. Shouldn't we call and ask him over?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess. I didn't want to be putting any pressure on him, but it has been a little while. I mean I would have thought that he would have called you or me or come by already. I mean after we gave him carte blanche like we did," he said.

"Hmm, yes. Well, I'm going to call him. I've got his number. He gave it to me after they got back from the zoo that day," she said.

The two of them turned toward the phone attached to the wall of the kitchen they were standing in. It was ringing as though on cue.

She went to answer it. "Yes," she said, to whoever was on the other end. For the next two minutes she listened intently to whoever was on the other end only grunting understanding at what must have been appropriate junctures.

"That was Sammy," she said. "Jimmy's in the hospital!" she sagged down into a chair at the table. "My God, can't that man catch a break!"

Her husband shook his head. "What hospital?" he said.

"Grayson Memorial," she said. "I'm going. I'm going now."

"It's seven in the morning. They won't let you in to see him yet. Maybe in a couple of hours," he said. She nodded.

"I'm going anyway. I want to be there when they do allow visitors. I need to be able to say we cared enough to try," she said.

"I see what you mean," he said. "Okay, I have to go into the office. Call me when you get there. I'll come as soon as I can. Okay?"

"Yes, that'll work," she said. "I wonder what the deal is? I mean what the matter is?"

"Yeah for real," he said. "Sammy didn't say?"

"No," she said. "He was in a hurry for some reason but knew we'd want to know. He's a very good friend to that man for damn sure. If he ever needs anything himself…"

"For sure, we'll be there for him. I agree," he said.

"Yes," she said.

"How about taking Rebecca with you? It might make him feel a little bit better," he said.

"It's a school day, but okay," she said. "Yes, I will."

******

"Yes, Doctor, I am his ex-wife, and I still have a relationship with the man. We have a little girl together, this little girl," said Claire, motioning toward the thirteen year-old Rebecca.

"Well, okay then, Missus Pollard, your ex-husband has an infection. It was very bad, but, we were able to bring it under control. Missus Pollard, the man hasn't been taking care of his legs like he needs to. If you can get him to be a bit more scrupulous in that regard then he'll be fine, but… " said Doctor Mildred Montrose.

"I understand doctor. I'll take care of that little matter, I promise," said Claire. The good doctor nodded, and glanced at the teenager seated across from them.

"And yes, you can go in for a few minutes. He's awake, but maybe a bit disoriented still, the medications, so please do not excite him," she said.

"We won't," said Claire. The two women entered the darkened room.

She noticed that the man's breathing was shallow. "Jimmy, what are we going to do with you, sir?" she said. Her tone was kindly but her words were reproving.

"Claire? Rebecca?" I said, barely squeaking out the words. I was genuinely surprised. It had to be Sammy told them. I did not want them to know. I was tired of the phony sympathy. They didn't want me or need me. I was just in the way. Yeah they were glad I was there that day, but they were more glad that they were not the ones who were destroyed by that scaffolding.

"Yes, we heard about your infection. I talked to Doctor Montrose just a bit ago. Jimmy, if you can't at least take care of yourself, we're going to have to tie you up and do it for you," she said, she was smiling but it was a smile laden with pseudo-sympathy.

"No, no I'll do better," I said. "I'm fine. How are you Rebecca?"

"I'm fine, daddy. I wish you were around more, at the house or your house or something," she said.

She'd clearly been coached; well, that's what it seemed like to me.

"Doctor Montrose said if everything goes the way she thinks that it will that you'll be out of here is a few more days. Jimmy, you have to come and stay with us until you really are better. I mean it. Rod is at work but he's coming down as soon as he can break away. Okay?" she said. "He is insisting that you stay with us, me too."

"Me too, daddy," said Rebecca.

I had been about to tell the woman that I would not be staying at her house. But Becca's words stopped me.

"Okay, but just till I can get back on my… to normal," I said. She caught my mistaken wordology.

"Yes, well good," she said. "Rodney will be pleased, as pleased as am I."

"Okay, well good," I said.

We talked for some time. I learned some of what my baby had been doing over the past couple of weeks plus. Then, they left. The man did show up about two hours after the women left. He was a deal less sympathetic than she had been.

"Jim, you're being downright stupid. I mean an infection! Really?" he said. "No more of that. I'm sure Claire told you the same thing. No more, okay!"

"Yeah sure, whatever," I said.

The fact was that I hadn't neglected myself on purpose. But I had run out of the lotion, medicine, whatever the stuff was that I was supposed to apply to my stumps and hadn't gotten the prescription renewed. I would now. But, my stupidity, as my ex-best friend referred to it, would not be repeated.

He looked over to the side of the room across from me where my Hospital chair stood. "How's the chair working out?" he said. And he said it in kind of a strange tone of voice.

"Good," I said. "They gave it to me. Some charity donates the things I guess." He nodded.

"Yes, I've heard that they do that sort of thing. So it's a good machine then?" he said. I shrugged.

"Can't have sex with it, but it is a lot easier to get around with than the non-electric kind," I said. He nodded and changed the subject.

"Claire told me that you've agreed to stay with us for a while," he said.

"Yes, I guess so. Becca asked me to. Hard to turn her down, so yeah," I said.

"Yes, well good," he said. "I'm glad somebody in this family has some influence with you. And, by family, Jim, I do mean the four of us. Okay?"

I shook my head. "Rodney, I'm going to give it to you straight. I'm not a member of a family of four. I'm a member of a family of two. I know that's not what you want to hear, but you and my wife, my ex-wife, will never be part of me again. Yes, we all share in the life of my daughter, yeah Claire's and mine, okay. That's something I have to accept. But, be a family with the two people who betrayed me and made me a cuckold and that for all of the time I was married to the woman? The humiliation alone will never allow me to be that close to the two of you again," I said.

"Jimmy, please. You've got to… " he started.

"Rodney," I said, interrupting him, "the white hot hatred I had for you for so long a time has faded. But the reality of what you did to me, and the reality of how you talked about me behind my back even after she got rid of me: well, there is no way I can get by that in any possible world I can imagine. The fact is, Rod, old bud, I'm sure you still diss me behind my back. I can smell it every time she comes around and opens her mouth. She holds me in contempt. And yes, I know that some of that is my fault because I am such a wimp when it comes to her. But, Rodney, I do not deserve to be talked about that way. I do not," I said.

"Jimmy, you are so wrong. Yes, she and I did say some unconscionable things in the past. I admit it. But, since you caught us that time we have never, and I mean never, dissed you since. I swear it," he said.

"Yeah right," I said. "Just let it be, Rod. I'm able to deal with it now. I couldn't before. But, since I've gotten to know my baby, well, things are somewhat different. I may never have a woman again; I know that. I'm nothing if not a realist. But, having a daughter, who I do believe cares about me, is almost as good, not the same, but still good. She respects me; that's important to me. Boy is it."

The man was beginning to cry. He was fighting it, but he was crying. Well, what the hey, I'd done enough of it.

We talked for a few more minutes. He said his goodbyes and left with a final salvo vowing to prove to me how wrong I was about the two of them. I just waved him off.

******

"Man-oh-man that guy is hurting so bad it's almost too much for me to take let alone him!" said Rodney.

"Are we bad people, Rod?" she said.

"No, I don't think so. You could maybe sell me on the possibility that we're stupid people. That one I could buy, oh yeah," he said. She snickered.

"Yeah well actually, I think that that's probably a given," she said.

"He'll be here the day after tomorrow. We will not, I mean not, be putting any pressure on him. We will give him all of the space he needs or wants. And, we will not even think about dissing the guy even in our sleep. And the biggee…

"He gets all of the quality time that he wants with Becca. That'll be the key to ever getting back to anything even remotely resembling normal," he said.

"I agree. Yes, no dissing, and quality time for him and Rebecca," she said.

"Taking a page from your book, we will be watching him closely to see that taking care of his legs becomes a habit," he said. "I just can't believe that he was so careless. But at least it explains why he was so lackadaisical about coming around to see Becca," he said.

"Yes, I breathed a sigh of relief if you want to know when I found out he'd been in the hospital for so long.

"And, you say he thinks that the hospital or some charity bought him that expensive wheelchair?" she said. "It's a different one than the one he abandoned here the last time, right."

"Yes, smaller and way more sophisticated, a technological marvel actually: $20,000 dollars' worth. He never even mentioned it to me while I was there. I brought it up, but he didn't. I just asked him how it was working. He just said that it was good, working fine. He has no idea it was us paid for it. It's best we leave at that. I have a sick feeling that if he knew he'd give it back to us and pay us rent on it to boot. It's who he is."

"Yes, and you're right. There is no upside to telling him.

"So are we picking him up from the hospital?" She said.

"Yes, I was able to get him to allow that. So yes. I'm borrowing Al's pick up so that we can get the chair in and out of the car, the truck, easily," he said."Good thinking," she said, "smaller or not the thing is kinda bulky."

******

Because my chair is electric, and I can get around pretty easily even in my weakened state, I was already waiting for him in the lobby when he arrived to pick me up four days after our little talk. Oddly, I did feel a little bad laying my feelings on him as I had. Everything I said to him was true of course, but he was trying to help me. And it wasn't his fault that the accident took my legs, and essentially any future I might ever hope to have as a man. But all of his proffered help paled in comparison to what he did to me when he stole my wife and took over first place with my daughter, and he did have first place with her; I was fully aware of that little reality. But, a daddy, even a daddy in second place, felt things toward his children that were undeniable and impossible to ignore.

"The pickup was a good idea," I said, as we drove toward his castle in the sky. "I've been thinking of getting one when I get to a place where I can afford a car. They make 'em so that guys like me can drive and load up the chair pretty easily, you know. Expensive but they do make 'em."

"Yes, I've heard that too. Haven't actually seen one of them, the kind you're talking about, but I know they can be gotten.

"You know if you'd let me, I'd get you one. I owe you way more than the cost of a fucking car," he said.

"No, no, I've got to do for myself. I'll be able to get one one of these days. But, Rod… " I started.

"What?' he said.

"Well, the other day, I was pretty cold talking to you like I did. I apologize," I said. He gave me a look that screamed disbelief. He didn't push it.

"Apology accepted. But, truth told, I deserved it. I've done you bad, Jim. I know it. You have a right to be angry and all. In my 'weak' defense, I couldn't help myself any more than you could have in my situation. She is just too much woman for any man to resist. And for what it's fucking worth, I apologize too," he said.

I know he was waiting for me to say apology accepted too. I didn't say it, and he didn't push that either.

"Jimmy, over the next days, we need to get along. I mean be, well, almost friends again. Would that be all right with you?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Don't worry, I won't be getting all mopey and problematical. I need to have a good relationship with my baby. If what you've said turns out to be true, I mean in terms of my rights with my baby. Well then, we'll be able to get along if only for practical reasons."

"Yes, and I hope that as time goes on we will get on for way more than just practical reasons," he said. I didn't respond to that either.

We pulled into the structure and parked. He got my chair down for me, and wheeled it around to where I could literally drop into it from the truck's seat. I'd learned that trick while cabbing it. I was actually getting pretty good at stuff. Well, one does adjust when one has to.

The ride up in the Otis was short, and, we got to the penthouse in short order. He let us in and the smell from the kitchen was actually tantalizing. Hospital food wasn't the best and I was pretty hungry. I was going to get my fair share of whatever it was that was cooking even if it was her doing the cooking.

She came out and looked absolutely dazzling: dark hair and wavy, purple midi-dress with a demure neckline, low heels, makeup perfect, and the smell of her enslaving; and oh yeah, tall. Problem was he got to be her slave not me. I think I actually frowned, but I'm not sure.

"You look very beautiful today," I said, as if that were the exception to prove the rule which it was not.

"Well, thank you, sir. You look nice too, and very much better now that you've got your health back.

"Jimmy, welcome, okay? I've taken the liberty of making us kind of a welcome home lunch for you," she said. I nodded. I didn't state the obvious that it wasn't my home and never would be.

"Yes, and I'm grateful for the food; I am kind of hungry," I said. I smiled what had to be the phoniest smile of all time. Just then Rebecca joined us from the room in the back.

"Hi dad," she said. "You look good today." I smiled. She'd clearly been coached, but I decided to not make an issue of it or of anything else for the days I'd be staying with them. The doctor had released me contingent on my willingness to be cared for at least two or three weeks. I'd agreed.

I told myself a couple of weeks wouldn't be too bad. I still felt uncomfortable being around the woman, but on the plus side, I would also be around my daughter. I figured the two conflicting realities would be a wash.

CHAPTER 14:

The food, beef stew, was really good, and I did eat more than any of the rest of them. Well, I really was hungry, damn near starving. The woman seemed to be happy that I liked her food. Truth was I didn't even know she could cook like that. She never had while we were married. I mean she did cook just not like she did today.

"So, the food was good then?" she said.

"Yes, very good actually," I said, "thank you."

"You're very welcome. I've been practicing. Made it kind of a hobby, actually," she said.

"Well, you seem to be getting very good at your new hobby," I said.

"Dad, would you like to go outside with me for a little while?" said my almost fifteen year-old daughter. I gave her a look.

"Sure, I guess," I said. I was kind of surprised that she would ask me to go outside for an outing with her. I knew that there was a small park behind the Towers and it would be pleasant, I was sure, tooling around in it.

The Crown Towers was a ten story complex with a curved driveway with parking areas to east and west sides of the building. The front was essentially a garden separated from the building's main entrance by a curved driveway leading to the parking areas. But, to the rear of the building was an actual cultured park which, as I learned later, consisted of two hectares of winding pathways and little copses replete with concrete tables and benches for the residents to picnic at. It was a very nice place.

I hadn't been down to it, the park, any of the other times I'd been to their place, but I'd seen it through the picture window each time I'd visited.

It took the best part of three minutes for us to get down and into the park area. It sure was beautiful; I had to give the man credit for a choice location for his residence.

"You did good, dad," she said. I looked her askance. We were moving slowly around the grounds. The paved path meandered in and out of the verdure and among the tallish trees.

"I did good?" I said, not knowing what she meant.

"Yes, telling mom you liked the food. She spent a lot of time trying to make it just right for you. I know because I helped her," said Rebecca.

"Well, she deserved to be complimented, she, or the both of you I guess, did real good," I said. "It's been a while since I've eaten a meal I liked as much, a good while."

"Well, thank you," she said.

We'd been touring the grounds for some little time talking about purely mundane stuff. I learned she'd just started the tenth grade the month before. I learned she was an A/B student. I learned that she didn't have a boyfriend that was anything like steady, but she had been on a few dates. Her school was a private-secular affair, Morningside High, with relatively high standards. She and her mom were close. What she didn't offer was how close she was with the man: I thought that very significant. Probably coached relative to that subject too. She'd likely answer any question I had, but wouldn't be offering anything otherwise-read she wouldn't be rubbing my nose in it. Oh yeah, she'd been coached. I let things be.

"Dad," she said, as we were on our way back and nearing the lobby and the elevators.

"Yes?" I said.

"Dad, my other dad really feels bad about everything. I hear him and mom talking sometimes. I mean about you and everything. I hope you can like each other," said my daughter.

"Anything for you, dear heart, I love you," I said. "Your-other-dad and I will get along. But no matter what, I won't let anything come between you and me; I mean if I have a choice in the matter. Okay?"

I could tell that she got the nuance of what I was saying and that she didn't much like it, but she would go along with it for the moment; well, that's the feeling I got from her looks. This kid, my kid, was likely a helluva lot smarter than me. Probably read a lot of books.

The rest of the afternoon was resting time for me. I came out about 4:00pm and heard Becca and her mom talking. The man was nowhere around at that moment.

"Mom, it's Sunday, and I haven't had any fun at all this weekend," said Becca. "Gerald asked if I could go with him to the movies. Please mom!" she cried.

"Becca, your dad, told you no. You have to be here for our visitor for the near future. He needs you and he needs us. Okay?" she said.

So, he was her dad and I was a visitor, and the kid was being cloistered because I needed to be coddled. I decided to put an end to that charade immediately.

I wheeled into the room. I'd surprised them. "Let her go to the movies. I mean if you know the young man. This 'visitor' does not want to be in the way of your normal lives. Okay," I said. "Her 'dad' told me I had a say in these things. So do I or don't I?"

"Jimmy, I… Of course you do.

"Okay then, Becca, since your dad here says okay, you can go to the movies with Gerald," said my ex-wife.

"Becca was startled and I think feeling a little embarrassed by the scene. That said she wasn't near as troubled as I was.

I wheeled around and headed for my room. The woman didn't follow or say anything else. She'd be regrouping and figuring out how she was going to handle what I'd overheard.

******

"Oh my," he said. "So did he say anything else?"

"No, but he stayed in his room all day. I didn't mean anything by what I said. It just came out that way. But I'm sure, given everything, that he is ascribing all kinds of conspiracies and wrong motives to them, my words, regardless," said Claire.

"Yes, I'm sure that he is. Jesus, I was so hoping that we could make inroads into ending this undeclared civil war we've got going here," said Rodney Pollard.

"I know, me too," she said. "Rod, it just slipped out. I'm just not used to him being around and having to worry about everything I say and how I dress and everything. I don't know if I can do it. The way he looked at me when you guys came home. Yes, I dressed up for him, but not to turn him on or tease him, really! I did it to honor him."

"You, and me too, have to figure this out. Maybe we even need to include him in our figuring it out. It's a helluva lot harder for him than it is for us, Claire. Anyway, so Becca went out with the kid?" he said.

"Yes, she felt bad for Jimmy and didn't want to go after the fact. He was obviously hurt and she picked up on it for sure. But, in the end she did go out. But, Rod, that's another thing. He's going to be making things hard on her too. He won't mean to, but he will be, just like he did today catching us talking about him like that," she said.

"Fuck," he said. "Only the first day and we already have conflict. Damn it!"

******

She'd left me alone all day, and I actually appreciated that. I didn't want to get into it with them. I had to stick around for two more weeks and that was the bottom line. I knew she'd be calling me in for dinner, or he would. But until then I was going to just be not in the way. Fact was I just didn't know how to handle things. I had to allow that maybe she didn't either. I didn't think that she meant to demean me, calling me "the visitor" but she had and she knew it was hurtful after the fact.

I also knew she didn't actually respect me. She was grateful to me for saving the lot of them, but I was a nothing to her compared to her current lover and husband. I'm sure she was virtually always comparing the two of us. She might, as she said and he said, allow me great latitude in dealing with Rebecca, but that was it wasn't it: she was doing the allowing not me. I actually had little or no real relevance when it came to anything. Yes, she owed me. Yes she felt guilty for betraying me. Yes, she wanted me to find another woman-talk about the impossible dream. But the fact was I was pretty much nothing when it came to their lives and mostly just in the way. I was sure she'd have just loved it if I only showed up on the big holidays and left it at that. Fucking wonderful! Well she was going to get her wish in just about two more weeks.

******

Then it was a week later. It was Saturday, and one of Becca's friends, Jill something or other, was overnighting it. As it happened each of the four bedrooms in the condo had small balconies. The cheaters had theirs in the west wing. The other three rooms were in the east wing. Mine was next to Becca's. I think that they did that, the room assignments so as to maximize my interplay with my daughter, another crumb thrown my way is the way I saw it. All of the foregoing having been said, the room assignments turned out to be fortuitous after the fact. I was out on my patio relaxing while the two teenagers were out on theirs. I heard it all.

"No Jill, I have to be around for him. Well, he is my biological dad. And I do like him. I mean how many daddies actually save the life of their kid? He saved me as well as mom and dad. So no, I can't be going out all of the time even if he tells me to. I need to be around for him," said Becca.

"I understand," said her friend.

"Well, thanks for that," said Becca.

"That chair that he uses sure looks like it cost a lot and it's not much bigger than a chair in your dinette. I'd like to have one of those myself," said Jill, laughing and changing the subject.

"Yeah, dad got it for him. He doesn't know it either. Dad is afraid, that if he knew, he'd give it back and get one of those cheapos. Dad pulled me aside to make sure that I knew not to say anything about it, ever," said my daughter. "The thing cost a lot almost twenty thousand dollars. I was with dad when he bought it for him.

Well, my daughter was right about one thing, or the man was, whichever. I would be giving the fancy dancy chair back to him. There was no way I could come up with the cost of the thing; and truth told I would like to have. It did make things way easier than they were going to be now in terms of getting around.

I did have a grand in the bank, kind of a backup fund in case I needed a little cash for a rainy day. Well it sure as hell was a rainy day now as far as I was concerned. I'd have to keep quiet about it until I could leave of course.

******

My plans to leave, though I hadn't said anything about it to the cheaters, were set for the Monday morning of the following week, two weeks and one day, since first coming to their house. Things had gone relatively smoothly since my overhearing the two girls that one time. I had some quality time with Rebecca over the two weeks that was something I guess. The two cheaters seemed to be going out of their way to make it easy for me. I was glad for that. It might be a long while before I was going to be able to see my kid again. I would not be going back to their house not for anything, not ever again. No, if I got to be around my daughter again it would be at my house or some other place, but never at the Pollards'.

I did have my cheapass phone. It was good for making calls and texting but that was it. I'd used it to call Sammy and get him committed to picking me up after the man went to work. I'd also sent him a check for eight hundred dollars for a new chair, well, it wasn't new; it was used, but supposedly it was in good condition. At any rate that's what the seller on eBay said. Sammy did all of the ordering and had done the pickup for me too. He had a truck and he'd be coming over in the morning after Claire left to do her usual Monday morning shopping trip. I'd leave them a thank you note attached to the seat of the fancy dancy chair they'd gotten for me, on the sly, for me to use.

I was sitting back on my little bedroom patio when she came in to see me. "Hi," she said. I wondered at her tentative tone.

"Oh hi," I said.

"You up for a party?" said Claire.

"A party?" I said.

"Yes, a little barbecue. Your friends Sammy and Henry are coming over Saturday. You haven't had a chance to see much of them these past weeks. I had the idea and I ran it by the two of them and they're onboard. I mean okay?" she said.

She'd really surprised me, and it was clear she knew it. "Uh-sure I guess," I said.

Two days before I was to cut country and we would be having a party. Well it would give me a chance to talk to Sammy and take care of any little details per my plans that might come up.

******

We were actually having an okay time. Well, why the hell not. The beer was imported, the hot dogs were all beef and great, and the mood music my thing. It would be the last time that we would be having anything like it ever again; oh yeah, that was a blood mortal fact! I'd gotten to the point where I couldn't stand being around the cheaters, and my daughter was on thin ice.

The interesting thing was the fact that Claire was spending so much time talking to Sammy and Colleen. I mean they did know each other; we all knew each other, but neither Henry nor I were getting much confab time with her, some but very little. Rodney, on the other hand, was at pains to make sure I wasn't lonely. He and Henry almost never left my side the whole damn day. Had I not known better, I would have to have considered the possibility that I was being scammed. How, I could not have imagined, but it sure looked like something was going on, I decided to ask my ex-best bud about it.

"Want another one of those?" said Henry, noting the state of my beer bottle.

"Yeah sure," I said.

"Me too," said Rodney, if you don't mind.

"I'm on it," he said. He'd be gone for a minute or two.

"So, Rodney old bud, what's going on with Claire and the Gilchrist clan?" I said.

He gave me a kind of startled look. Then he sagged back on his feet a bit. "Nothing really," he said. "But, since you asked, Claire and I, well, we are kind of conspiring with Sammy and Henry to help put your true self back together. Nothing nefarious, really, we just think well, that you need to kind of kick start your life again."

"Really, kick start my life you say. Just how do you think that you might accomplish that virtually impossible task?" I said.

"The operative term there is 'virtually'," he said. "I know it can be done. But, for it to happen you have to be willing to help us out a little at your end."

"Me help you out?" I said. "You mean like you helped me out taking my wife away? Oh, and my relationship with my daughter too for that matter?"

"Jim, we are not and were not at any time trying to cut you off from your daughter. Did we do everything right and according to Hoyle? No. And, I've apologized and Claire has apologized seven ways to Sunday about that. You have to give us credit for that at least," He said.

"I do?" I said.

"Yes," he said, "you do." I noticed that Henry had stopped to have a few words with Sammy and Colleen and Claire on his return trip form the beer cache.

"Hmm, well we'll see about that I guess. But, since were on the subject. Are you saying that you are no longer hiding things from me? You're claiming that you're not trying to legislate how I deal with my daughter? You saying that from now on there won't be any backstabbing on your part or Claire's or hiding things from me?" I said.

"Yes, sir, that is exactly what I'm saying" he said. I had to hand to the man; he did sound convincing. He was lying through his teeth, good intentions or no, but he was lying. I knew for a flat fact that trust would never be a term that I could associate with the pair of them, no not ever.

******

She left for her shopping trip but fifteen minutes gone and Rodney was at work. Sammy pulled up close to the door and hefted my new "cheapo" wheelchair onto the landing. I came out just as he set it down. I was skittering along just using my arms to get to the bottom step.

"Sam, just put it back in the truck, okay. I can make it up the door. You might need to help me a bit to get in, but except for that, I'm good," I said.

"Okay, man, I wasn't sure how we were going to work it. But good," he said.

He did have to help me get up and into the seat. And then we were outta there.

I'd left the cheaters a letter and a check. The check was for the food and drink I'd consumed at their place for the two weeks I'd been there. I wasn't taking anything from them, not ever again. I'd had enough, boy had I ever.

Sammy delivered me back to my own digs. He'd even done a little shopping for me. I had food and drink in the frig. I was grateful for that. And then I waited.

I knew I'd be getting a call, or maybe even a visit. I hoped I'd short shanked the latter by the letter I'd left for them, but I figured it was fifty-fifty they'd try and come by to fix things. I wouldn't be having any and I wouldn't even open the door to acknowledge them if they did. I was hoping I wouldn't have to deal with that particular level of harassment.

******

"How the hell did he find out about that!" said Rodney, holding the letter in his hand and looking straight into his wife's eyes.

"Well sure as hell not from me!" said Claire. "Why are you looking at me like that!" He sagged into a seat at the dinette.

"Well, he found out somehow," he said. He looked over at her. She was leaning against the door jamb leading into the kitchen.

"The only other person who knew is Rebecca. But I swore her secrecy the day we bought it. I just can't believe she would go against me like that," he said.

"No, she wouldn't have said anything to him. I'm certain of that," said Claire.

"And then there's this check for $233.16: a reimbursement for food consumed while he was here these past two weeks!" The amount literally screams that it's all the money he has left in his bank account," he said.

"We gotta go to him and try to make things right. Somehow we gotta make things right," said Claire.

"The letter says not to try that. He sounds pretty adamant," he said. "I don't cotton to making things worse than they already are. I mean we do have to fix things, but damned if I can figure a way to do it."

"Me either," she said.

"Wait, I have an idea," he said.

"Okay?" she said.

"What if we get that Salvation Army guy to run interference for us?" he said.

"Okay, that might be one way to go. But the guy is going to want to know what the problems are," said Claire.

"Yes he will," he said.

"Rod, I know neither of us believe it's the case that she'd do or say anything untoward, but I think we need to ask Becca about things anyway. I just have an uncomfortable feeling about it all: the chair, the check, especially the chair, but all of it."

"Yes, I guess we gotta cover all of our bases," he said. She nodded.

******

"No mom, I never said word one to dad about the chair. I'm not stupid. I know how my other dad thinks," said sixteen year-old Rebecca.

"Baby, did you tell anyone else who might have told him or told somebody they knew?' said Rodney Pollard.

"Well," said Rebecca.

"Rebecca?" said Claire.

"I told Jill, but I know she'd never say anything not to anybody?" said Rebecca.

"When did you tell her?" said Claire.

"The Saturday before last," she said.

"A week ago Saturday?" said Rodney. "That's the day he overheard all of that stuff between you and Becca that made him so upset. But honey, you said he spent the entire day in his room, right?"

"Yes," said Claire. A funny look covered the face of the teenager.

"Mom, we were in my room when I told Jill. Actually we were on my patio when it came up. Jill was saying how nice the chair was. She'd seen him use it of course. Jill just commented that she wouldn't mind having one herself. She was joking and I told her yeah it is nice and how much it cost. I told her I knew that because I was with you dad when you bought it," said Becca.

"Oh my God!" said Claire. "If he was on his patio when you told her, then he undoubtedly overheard you girls talking. That has to be it!"

The man was shaking his head. "Oh my God!" he said.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," said Becca. "I didn't realize…"

"It's okay, baby. It could have happened to anyone," he said.

"It did happen to someone else, Rod, it happened to me earlier that same day," said Claire. "It's what caused him to hide out in his room all day." He nodded.

"Well, at least we know that the man can't read minds," he said. "I was beginning to wonder."

"I think we need to do what you suggested earlier," said Claire.

"Yes, it can't hurt and it might get some results. Hell, I'll start going to church regular myself if the idea works because it would be proof positive that there is a God," he said.

"Maybe we can all go to see the man. Rebecca being there would be an indication of the degree of importance of our visit and our commitment to helping the guy on all fronts," said Claire.

"Yes, yes, I think you're right on that score," said Rodney.

"Daddy?" said Rebecca.

"We'll all be going to church this Sunday," said Rodney.

"Really dad?" she said.

"Yes really. You're other dad goes to a certain church sometimes and the pastor there has helped him out a bit on this or that occasion," said Rodney. The girl looked her dad askance but didn't ask any more questions.

******

It was 11:00A.M; the Pollards took their seats in the miniature chapel. They'd be speaking to the man, Captain Traynor as soon as the service was over and the little post service fellowship gathering got underway.

Claire looked around at the smallish congregation as the service was about to conclude, maybe forty souls, mostly seniors and homeless folks, she thought. She saw one of the fellows in a Salvation Army jacket bring out refreshments and place them on the serving table at the left of the chapel.

She nudged her husband, and nodded toward the table. He smiled and nodded. They would be collecting a donut or two preparatory to closeting the Captain.

"Dad? We gonna get a donut?" said Rebecca, looking like she really could use one.

"Yes honey, we are," he said.

CHAPTER 15:

The meeting between the Traynors and the Pollards would have to have been described by an observer as business-like. But, that said, it was fruitful.

"Yes, Captain. I have offered him jobs and things and all of it. And, I still stand ready to help the man. But…"

"But because of some of the things you mentioned here today he refuses to take anything from you? That about it?" said Captain Traynor.

"Yes, in a nutshell, yes," he said.

"Captain, if I may," said Claire. "I know that you folks sometimes hire people to work in your stores and such. Is that not so?"

"Yes, that's true," he said.

"Missus Pollard," said Dora Traynor, "if you're asking if we could hire Mister Clausen, the answer is yes. But, we don't have any full time positions that a man with the limitations of Mister Clausen could perform. We do have an opening, and it is minimum wage, working in record keeping and some related activities that we could use him in. Do you think he would be interested in something like that?"

"I believe he would, Missus Traynor," said Claire.

"I'm a captain too for the record Missus Pollard. In the Army the wife is always the same rank as her husband," she said.

"As a matter of fact," interjected Captain Traynor, "she bosses me a round pretty regularly." Everyone laughed.

Rebecca hadn't uttered a word during the meeting but she had been a very interested spectator. She spoke now.

"Captain," she said, "my dad is very sad. He's sad all of the time. I think he would love a job working for you. He's mentioned to me that he wants to get a better place, but that he can't afford one just yet. Maybe a job with you would fix that for him."

The adults in the room were surprised by the apparent wisdom of the youngest among them.

"Well, in that case, Rebecca, I will make the offer to your dad as soon as next I see him. One thing though. If he is living in Littleton, it'll be a couple of weeks before I have a chance to do so. I only get down there once a month. Okay?" he said. "The good news is the job that my wife mentioned can be done from anywhere; he doesn't have to be here in the Valley."

The five of them talked for a little longer and shared some tea before the Pollards left.

******

"Mister Clausen," said Captain Traynor.

"Yes sir," I said, as I was leaving the little auditorium to go home. The van was waiting for me.

"Might I have a word with you for moment," he said.

"Okay," I said.

"Mister Clausen, I know things must be hard for you being in the situation you're in. We have a part time job opening that I would like to offer you. I mean if you'd be interested," said the captain.

"Well, I, I mean do you think I could do it?" I said. "I mean…"

"Yes, I do," he said. "Mister Clausen the Army hires people with disabilities and other problems all of the time. It's what we're about. I would ask that you become an official adherent of our faith, however, if you accept the job. Is that something you think you could do?"

"Well, I think so," I said. "What would I have to do?"

"Well, accept Jesus as your savior and act in accordance with biblical mandates. That's pretty much it. There would be some learning on that score involved. My wife and myself could see to that part of it," he said.

"Well okay," I said. "I have tried a bit to get a job, but…"

"Your limitations," he said. I nodded. "The job would require some bookkeeping and related duties. Nothing you couldn't handle," he said.

"Mister Clausen, we have people with worse limitations and worse problems than yours I assure you. One of my main assistants in the Valley spent thirty years in prison; he's a major success story for us. He's even given talks to groups of young men and women who have had social problems not unlike his own.

"You joining our group will work for you Mister Clausen, and we will work together with you to help you live well," he said.

"You've convinced me," I said. "When can I start?"

The Captain and I talked a while longer and I found out more about the job I'd be doing and some of the church rules that I would be expected to follow. I wasn't sure about all of the bible stuff; I'd never read the bible, didn't have one, and hoped that I could measure up over time. The Captain assured me that I could and would. Well we'd be seeing.

At any rate I finally had a job. I could maybe save a little now and get me a truck that I could fix up to accommodate my situation. Well, that was the hope. The job with my disability would make things at least a little more tolerable for me. What was even better was the fact that I didn't need the cheaters to do for me.

Sometimes even a loser like me could get lucky. Ultimately, I owed it all to Sammy and Henry: they were the ones who'd turned me on to the church. I wondered what the two Pollards would have to say about my good luck. Probably give me lip service about how glad they were for me and then go home and all but laugh at me. Okay, so I was whining. I felt like it, so, so what.

******

It'd been three months since I last saw the lot of them. Did it bother me? I guess it did. My own kid held me in contempt! No, that wasn't fair. It wasn't contempt exactly; it was more like she pitied me. And that was one thing I sure as hell didn't need. I guess the same could be said for the cheaters, I supposed.

Well, at least I was on my own now. I did miss the fancy dancy chair he'd gotten me, but not enough to kiss his ass to get it back. The cheapo that I was using now was a pain in the ass to use, but it did work and I was getting used to it.

I did get a few visits from my buds over the weeks since I'd last been to the Valley. They couldn't make it down to Littleton a lot; well, they did have lives. But one would come down and then the other and once they came down together. That was for Valentine's Day of all things. And I wished they hadn't. I wasn't in love with either of them, and the one I wanted to share a holiday like Valentine's didn't want to have anything to do with me, well, not in that way.

I was working and it was good for me, just ten hours a week, but it was better than nothing. I was pulling down and extra $300 a month. I needed $4,000 for the truck I wanted to get. I figured another six months and I'd be able to get it. And there was a program for guys like me that could get the controls switched so that I could drive it with my hands only. The program I was looking at could get the controls done for only $500. Hell, with the cost of auto repairs and such anymore that was practically free! Anyway, six or eight months to go and I wouldn't be needing that public van anymore: I lived for the day!

******

I found myself in Walmart, and I couldn't remember why I was there. Then I did. I needed new pants. I'd lost twenty pounds, and for a guy with no legs that was a lot: I weighed in right at eighty pounds. The reason? Well, I wasn't eating regular. I hate to cook and I didn't have anybody to cook for me. I'd been depending on TV dinners for almost a year, and while they were real good for the waistline they weren't too healthy. And, I was feeling down most of the time anyway, so I really didn't want to eat. All I could think about was the family that pitied me and didn't really want me around. I would like to have been around my daughter, but not as no second hand daddy; that was just too humiliating. At least the group of them were leaving me alone. I wondered what they thought of the letter I wrote.

******

I was tilting back a brew when I heard the knock. It was a loud knock. I skittered over to the door and opened it to admit my guest, guests as it turned out. "Sam, Henry good to see you. What brings you guys around?" I said.

I should note here that I had purchased something I called my skitterboard. It was just a square, flat board-actually some kind of plastic-with wheels. I could lower myself onto it from my bed or couch and skitter around the apartment easy. When I got my car, it would be going with me wherever I went. It was better than my wheelchair, but it couldn't actually replace my chair in all situations, so I had to have both; and when I went out, it was my chair I took with me in the cab-van.

"Just here to see you, see how you were doing," said Henry.

"Yeah," said Sam, "you live too far away to come as often as we'd like. You oughta think about moving back the Valley at some point. Forget about those people and just live your own life, man."

"Maybe one of these days," I said. "I'm just not ready to make it easy for them to bother me, not yet." The two of them nodded in unison.

"Jim, I gotta tell yuh, man, you look terrible. You not eating?" said Sam.

"Yeah, I'm eating, just not wonderfully well. I don't cook worth a shit. You know how it is," I said.

I could see my buds were concerned about me, but that was just the way it was.

"You gotta take care of yourself better than you are, man," said Sammy.

"I got me a job," I said changing the subject.

"A job?" said Henry.

"Yeah, working for the Salvation Army. It's just part time, but I'm hoping to afford me a truck in the near future, a few more months the way I figure it," I said.

"Yeah?" said Sam.

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, that sounds real good," said Henry. "But…?"

I knew what he was about. "It'll have all the controls on the steering wheel: gas, breaks, the whole schmear," I said. "I won't have to wait for the van anymore. I can just go."

"Well, that does sound like a good deal. Look, Jim, if you need a little help financially. I mean… " said Henry.

"No, no, I do for myself, but thanks a million for the offer," I said.

It seemed like everybody figured I was a loser even my buds. I mean I know all they, my buds, wanted to do was be good to me, but even without my legs I was still a man. And, how could I ever attract a woman if I couldn't even get myself a job and a few bucks. I did have my disability pay, but it wasn't enough for a wife and family, and I wanted both. Yeah, maybe me having a family would turn out to be a pipe dream, but it was my dream, and I wasn't giving it up.

The boys stayed late. I offered to have them shack up with me overnight because of the long drive back. But they opted to get home, and Sammy had a wife to worry about, so I guess it made sense for them to go. They did promise to try and get by a bit more often. I did tell them that I would return the favor once I got my car. Man, I really wanted to get that car.

Once they left I discovered that I was lonelier than I was before they came. I think it was the silence. No noise at all. Not even road noise outside on the street. Well, it was past midnight.

One thing that Henry had suggested to me, after about our sixth beers, was that I might wanna see a shrink about things. Doctor Montrose had suggested the same thing before I'd left the hospital after having lost my legs. I told him, and I told myself that I would give it some thought. I'd have to see if I could still get the help free though. I'd be calling the doctor on Monday morning. It couldn't hurt to know what my options were. I was too depressed and bitter for my own good that for damn sure! I knew it. Hell everybody that knew me knew it. Yes, Montrose, Monday Morning.

******

He rolled on top of her and reveled in the feel of her nakedness against his own. "My God how wonderful you are woman," said Rodney.

"You're pretty wonderful yourself," she said. He gently massaged her breasts. "That tickles but don't stop. I like the feeling."

"I like it better than you like it," he said.

"Arguable, but remotely possible," she said. "Oh, and I think it's time you did your duty." He smiled his understanding of her words and slid down her body to obey her command. She spread her legs just enough for him to get his face and tongue where it was supposed to be and do what they were supposed to do.

She shivered and squirmed as he worshipped the femaleness of her. "Do me," she said. "Do me now and don't be gentle about it!"

Positioning himself above her, as she spread her legs to almost right angles to the trunk of her body, he at first hesitated lowering himself onto her waiting form.

"Now!" she said. He lowered himself onto her and poked at her pussy gaining an initial lodgment. He pressed forward slowly and then withdrew slightly. He pushed into her again and began what became the slow seesaw motion that she was used to as preparatory to his pounding into her.

She was muttering and squirming trying to get the most feeling possible from what he was doing to her. It was a myth that women didn't exert themselves during the act; they did, well, she for sure did, she thought.

He began to get serious, pounding into her and ramming her with an almost cruel in and out stroke. Her eyes became glazed over and she arched up to ram back at him. They stiffened simultaneously. She squirted as he painted her insides with his cum.

They collapsed together him on top of her. She made a strenuous effort to push him off of her. "I have to breathe," she said. He rolled off and to the right of her trying to catch his breath. They lay inert next to each other, each in their own world of thought.

"You know of all of the things that bother me about my ex?" she said.

"What?" he said, not really paying very close attention to her words.

"Knowing that he may never experience what we just did again. That bothers me." She said. "That has got to be the worst for him."

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "But, that said, there's not much we can do about it, not that. Other things yes, but not that."

"I know, and that's why I'm bothered," she said.

******

The call to Doctor Montrose was short and she had assured me that she could arrange a session with the psychologist at no cost to me. So here I was at the "shrink" center. The office of Dr. Reinhard Von Kleist, yeah he was German, was not especially fancy or spacious; it was more, what, serviceable maybe.

I was waved in after what could not have been more than a ten minute wait. I didn't have a watch, and I'd left my cheapo cell phone back at the Starlight by mistake, but it was about ten minutes regardless.

"Have a seat Mister Clausen," he said, as I entered his office. The guy's name was oh so German. And, he looked like a clone of Sigmund Freud, and yeah, even I know Freud was Austrian not German-but close enough.

"So," he said. "Doctor Montrose sent you to me."

"Yes," I said. "She says guys like me… " I hesitated.

"Yes, men, or women either, who've suffered severe trauma often benefit from talking to someone who can maybe help them through the worst of their fears," said Doctor Von Kleist.

I couldn't help it, I snickered. "Really?" I said. "I don't think you can help me with mine, doctor. But, Doctor Montrose said you maybe could, so here I am."

"And what do you see as your most difficult problem?" he said.

"The true fact that no woman will want me now that I'm only half of what I once was, which wasn't much even before… well, before," I said. He nodded.

"Before you lost your legs saving an entire family as I understand it," he said.

"I guess," I said. The man nodded.

We talked for a little over an hour straight, I didn't even get the usually mandated bottle of water. I did open up to him a little. He questioned me about my stated desire, stated to him, about wanting to end it all. I got an eyebrow raised when I mentioned that to him. Then I got the questions which led me to thinking that maybe I was over the top in my thinking.

"Well, I see our time is about up," he said. "Mister Clausen, I'd like to see you again in two weeks would that be all right?"

"Yes sir, sure, I guess," I said.

"Good, a few things we covered today probably need a little more consideration before we can say all is, well, okay. Okay?"

"Sure, sure," I said. A few minutes later I was outside waiting for the van to pick me up.

I decided to make a trip to Shadows. I hadn't been in for a while. I needed a drink. Yes I did.

******

It was two weeks later that I got another visit from Sammy. It was not a real good time. I was, admittedly, in one of my moods. I guess I was depressed. The doctor had told me that I would likely continue to have periodic bouts of depression for quite a while. He said it was almost a given with those who had trauma as severe as mine. I didn't really need to have him tell me that; I knew it already from long experience. Still, I guess I appreciated that he had said something. At least I knew I wasn't the only one.

I skittered over to my door to allow the man in. I knew he was coming; he'd called first.

"No Henry tonight?" I said.

"No, he had something going," said Sammy. "Anyway, how are you doing and do you have a beer you could spot me?"

"Okay and yes," I said. I headed for the kitchen to grab a couple of brews for us.

"You seem okay," he said, as I returned with the drinks.

"Yeah, well you know, it's kinda lonely and except for my little job and payin' the rent not much is going on. You and Henry are the only ones I get visits from. So well, it's like I said, lonely. But I'm okay overall." He nodded.

"Well good that you're okay," he said.

"I did take your advice," I said. "I went and saw a shrink. It, the visits with him, were okay."

"Really?" he said.

"Yes, we talked a good bit, and he helped me see a few things. I had my second appointment just yesterday. He didn't say, but Doctor Montrose told me that people in my situation, meaning at my income level, could get six visits at no cost to me. After that, if I continued, I'd have to be paying," I said. He nodded.

"You hear anything from your ex-familia?" he said.

"No, and I don't want to. They've got their lives and their millions and I've got, well, what I've got," I said.

"You know, Jim, they may be assholes, but I don't think that they are as bad as you think they are. They're just normal people and maybe a tad selfish. They may have the money, but that doesn't mean they don't have problems and pressures and stuff just like the rest of us. I know you know that. You gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself and rebuild a relationship at least with that daughter of yours if not with the two of them; and really, with the two of them as well," he said. "And, stop worrying about what they'll think say or do behind your back that offends you. Just go with the flow, man."

I looked at him as if he were crazy. But was he? Hell, maybe he was right. Maybe I should make a last try to do something like he was talking about. My reasoning? I was miserable. Would I be more miserable enduring their put downs and back stabbing? Damned if I knew. The one thing I did know was that the last two times I'd tried to be around them I felt really bad and hurt really bad. I guess I'd be doing some thinking.

"You might be right, Sam, I don't know. But I'll give what you said some thought, at least that," I said. I started to choke up. Him bringing up the family hit me. I needed that family and I didn't have it. I didn't sob outright, but I likely would later all things being equal.

We talked for a while longer and he left; well, the next day was a work day for him. I think he noticed the state I was in, the emotional state, but he didn't say anything; I was grateful for that.

******

She opened the door and was surprised. "Sammy!" she said. His look bespoke something not too good. "Sam, come in come in. Is something wrong? Has something happened to Jimmy?"

"Yes, and no," he said.

"Please, let's go into the dinette." She led the way and he followed.

"Please have a seat," she said, indicating a chair at the table. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Uh-no, not just now," he said. She took a seat opposite him and riveted her attention on him. "Missus Pollard, the man has told me in no uncertain terms to not talk to you guys about him or to help you get him to do stuff. But, I gotta.

"I go and see the man every few weeks, yuh know?" he said, "Henry too."

"Okay?" she said.

"Yes, well the man is ultimately depressed and, now he's seeing a shrink. That was my suggestion actually. We talked a little about it, but he wasn't all that forthcoming as to how the two sessions with the guy that he's so far had went," he said. "But, something's off."

"My Lord," she said. "Sammy, Rod and I haven't done real well by our man. But, that said. I just don't know what else we can do. He won't talk to us, and doesn't want us around. It's that simple. He's even cut himself off from his daughter."

"Yes, I know that, some of it. Like I say he and I have talked. But this last time I was there, two days ago, I laid some stuff on him," he said.

"Stuff?" she said.

"Yes, I advised him to try again and connect with you guys. He needs family more than he needs anything else," said Sam, "at least that's what I think." She narrowed her eyes.

"Sam, what did he say? I mean about your recommendation to reconnect with us?" she said.

"He said he'd think it over. I think he wants too. I mean I think he wants to reconnect with you guys, but he's afraid of being put down, dissed, you know," he said. "He says you guys are always dissing him and stabbing him in the back. He says he's heard you himself, even the kid. And of course he has those recordings."

"Sam… " she started.

"Missus Pollard, I know that the stuff he heard is what he heard. I've heard some of it myself as you know. But I told him 'so what,' it's just dumb stuff that people do, well, when they're being people. And I told him that I was sure you guys cared about him in spite of it all," said Sam.

"Sam, first off call me Claire, please. You're a friend, a good friend to us as well as to our man. And for my money, you are one smart fellow. You're right on, on all counts. Yes, I, and it was mostly me, did diss the man. Yes, he did catch me. But at no time did I want to hurt the guy or really even mean what I said. I was just being a stupid woman. I was worried that he would make unreasonable demands about Rebecca. It was stupid of me and my husband agrees that it was stupid of me. If I get a chance to make it right by Jimmy, I sure the fuck will!" she said.

"I was hoping that you'd say something like that," he said.

"Sam, tell me what I can do. I mean if you know what to do," she said.

"Just if he contacts you milk it. Tell him you're sorry and all, and that you would like to meet with him. Tell him you've got some ideas. Tell him you'd like to hear any ideas he might have. Just be cool and up front with the guy. Except for me and Henry he never gets any visitors and it's weighing heavily on him. He's one lonely fellow and I'm worried about him. Worried that he might do something rash," he said. Her hand went to her mouth at the implication that the man was making.

"Sammy, you don't really think that… " she started.

"I do think," he said. "He is really lonely. I can't get down there much because it is too far and I have to work. A couple of times a month is the most that I can do, or Henry either. He needs to move back here, Claire."

"Yes, yes, he does, and it shall be as you say; I mean if he does contact us," She said.

"Yes, if he comes back, he'll have us, and you folks, and those church people he's sort of involved with. It could be good for him. The situation, things, might be a little dicey for a while, but over time… " he said.

"Yes, you're right. Sam, I want to thank you for coming by. You and your wife need to come to dinner one of these nights. Would that be all right by you?" she said.

"Uh-here? Dinner with your family?" he said.

"Yes, as I said Rod and I consider you a friend. I am personally grateful for the friendship you've shown my ex-husband. It means a lot, a helluva lot," she said.

"Well, sure, I guess, I mean dinner," he said.

"Good, good," she said. "I'll be getting in touch with you. Please talk to your wife. We have each other's numbers from before."

CHAPTER 16:

She was pacing back and forth on the expansive patio of the penthouse waiting for the youngest Pollard to come out and talk to her. She turned when she heard the footsteps.

"There you are, Rebecca," said her mother.

"Mom? what's up," said Becca.

"Rebecca your dad and I have some decisions to make and we, I, need to talk to you at some length about them," said Claire.

"Momma? Decisions?" said Becca.

"Yes, they have to do with your other dad," she said. Rebecca Pollard deflated.

"Mister Jimmy" she said.

"Rebecca! He's not only your biological dad; he also saved your life and mine and your dad's," said Claire. "No matter how uncomfortable it might be for you, you need to help me out here, and him, your dad. It's not his fault that he hasn't been around, frankly it's my fault, mine and your dad's; I mean my husband, your other dad."

"Mom, you're confusing me," she said.

"Yes, I can imagine that that's so," she said.

"Okay, mom, so what do you want me to do?" she said.

"The fact is I'm not sure just yet. But there is a possibility that your dad, your bio dad, may need some help and that very soon. He's lonely and hurting and in a very bad place, and I put him there," said Claire.

"Is this about that letter that I heard you and dad talking about? About what he overheard us talking about?" said Becca.

"Yes, in part, I suppose it is," said Claire. "Becca, the man has no one but a couple of friends he used to work with. And one of those friends of his told me he is in a bad way. We, and especially you and I have to help him out if he'll let us. Can you understand what I'm saying? You're still young, but not that young. And, you have a driver's license now, so you can go to him no problem."

"I get it mom. I wish he hadn't heard me that day. I was embarrassed when I heard that he'd heard," she said.

"Yes, well me too," she said. "Anyway, Becca, I'm going to ask you a big favor and it's one that I'm pretty sure only you can provide."

"Mom?" she said.

"I am going to ask you to go to him and make nice to him, coddle him a little. Know what I mean?" she said.

"Me! You'll be there too, right?" said Becca.

"Not this first time, dear. I'm afraid, if I went, he'd kick me out, and I wouldn't blame him. But, you're his child. Yes, a dad to you too just like your real dad," said Claire Pollard. "What I mean is he's a real dad too. I know this is confusing, but it's a true thing too."

"Mom, I get it, I guess. I guess I could visit him. But I mean, if he doesn't want you there, you still think that he'll want me to be there either?" There was hope in the girl's tone. It was clear to her mother that the girl didn't want to go even though she would if she had to.

"Yes, your situation is different. I was married to the man. We were in love, and now, well, we're not, not in the same way, and he's hurt because of that and because of me," said Claire. The girl nodded.

"Okay, mom, if I have to go I will. It's just that I don't really feel comfortable around him. I mean he was an okay guy when he was here, but we don't really know each other, and he does act kind of strange sometimes. I mean I do know that I owe him that we all do… " she said.

"Becca, you need to get to know him. I think he needs you to be there for him. It's all my fault this mess we're in. But, unfortunately I can't fix it on my own; he won't let me. He might even hate me. I don't really think he does, but he might. I do know that he's bitter, Becca. He's bitter and lost and lonely. We women and especially you need to understand that and be willing to help the man, that good and brave man, to get to a place where he can be happy again," she said. Her daughter noticed that her mom was beginning to cry.

"Momma, don't cry. I'll go to him. I'll go there today if you want: there's no school today," said Rebecca Pollard. "But you don't think he might…"

"Might?" said her mom.

"You know, kick me out or something?" said Becca. Her mom wiped away her tears and looked at her daughter; she smiled.

"No dear. I don't expect that he will do anything like that. In fact exactly the opposite. He might be a little confused you just showing up, but after he settles down he will be very happy to see you; I'm sure of it," said Claire. Rebecca nodded.

"Okay mom, I'll go as soon as I eat something and clean up," she said.

"Thank you dear, your dad and I are grateful to you. We know it's kind of a lot to put on a teenager. And Becca, James Clausen, your dad, is a good guy, just a little hurt," she said.

"Okay mom," said Rebecca.

******

The knock on my door was a surprise. I knew it wasn't Sam or Henry; they were working: it being a Monday afternoon. I went to answer it.

"Rebecca!" I said. I was caught totally off guard.

"Hi dad," she said.

"I… I'm surprised, aren't you supposed to be in school?" I said being totally at a loss as to what else to say. My daughter smirked.

"Yes," she said, "I can see that you're surprised. Dad can we talk?"

"Uh-okay, come in," I said. "I skittered back inside on my wheel board and led her into the small front room of my small and unpretentious one bedroom abode. My computer, one loaned to me by the church, was sitting on the little all-purpose table across from the couch. "Have a seat," I said, indicating the couch that I rarely sat on. She did.

"Dad, how are you?" she said. She was clearly nervous, but hell, so was I.

"Okay. I'm okay," I said. "It's good to see you. But again, aren't you supposed to be in school today?" I could feel myself getting a little emotional. Seeing her there, even with what I knew she thought of me, made me feel kind of good but emotional.

"It's good to see you too," she said. "No about school, the teachers had a conference so I came to see you. I was afraid that if I waited for the weekend that you might have something going." We both fidgeted for a moment or two.

"Dad, I've been wanting to come and talk to you," she said. "I know about the letter you wrote to mom and dad. I know I hurt you, I mean what you overheard me saying to my friend, Jill. It was just stupid talk, daddy, really."

"It's okay," I said. "Now, I really was getting emotional. I'm okay now. It's all good." She nodded.

"Thanks for that," she said.

"So, how are your mom and dad?" I said. Now I was at the point of breaking up. That she saw someone else as her dad was killing me, but I was doing my best not to be too obvious about it but likely failing in that goal miserably.

"They're okay," said Rebecca. She noticed my state but was trying not to notice it at the same time; I could see that much clearly.

"Well good," I said.

"Dad, mom would like you to visit us. I mean I know about the letter, like I said, but you need to visit us," she said.

"It's hard for me. I don't have a car," I said, "and the cab is, well, expensive." She nodded. She knew I was making excuses but didn't call me on it.

"Dad, dad, would pick you up; mom told me so. I mean if you need a ride," she said.

"I don't know," I said, trying desperately to avoid getting into an argument with my daughter. "I wouldn't want to inconvenience him, you know?"

"It wouldn't be an inconvenience," she said. "I know that for a fact. Mom really wants to be your friend. I mean you guys used to be married and everything. I know that that's kind of weird, but lots of divorced people remain friends afterwards don't they?"

"I don't know, maybe," I said.

I had to grant that my daughter was doing her best to be not offending me. She was calling both me and the other guy dad; that was a big deal for me. The other guy didn't deserve to be called her dad, but in practical terms I guess he was. He was paying all of the bills, and he hadn't known, if they weren't lying to me, that she was my daughter until she was five or six years old. She was almost seventeen now, I knew, so it was a whole different thing. I also knew that all of them, maybe even including my daughter really would rather have had me out of the picture.

I'd really screwed things up for them saving their lives; but hell, I'd screwed my life up way worse. If I did take Rebecca up on her request, I'd be making that point to my ex-best friend. I might be in the way of their peace and happiness, but they wouldn't have either of those if I hadn't fucked myself up for them! I deserved way more than I was getting or had gotten, and I didn't mean material things.

"Dad?" she said. She could see that I was lost in thought.

"Uh-yes, I was just thinking," I said. "Rebecca, you coming here today was kind of a shock. I really didn't think that I'd be seeing any of you again. But…"

"But, you'll consider visiting us?" she said. I gave her a look that I know spelled suspicion. She was almost a legal adult, not a real one; one had to be at least thirty years-old to be a real adult, but I could see she understood my reticence.

"Dad, mom really wants you to come by, dad too," she said.

"I don't know. Can I get back to you on that?" I said. "Maybe, I just don't know. Your mom and I…"

"Sure I guess," she said. "At least you didn't say no."

"What she hadn't said, not even once, was that 'she' would especially like me to come visit. My ex-wife, yes, but not her specifically, and she was my daughter. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she didn't consider me as her father, or more accurately, anything more than an accidental sperm donor.

I wondered how much she knew about how the two of them had done me during the time I'd been married to her mother. I guessed that she didn't know anything. I would, selfishly I suppose, loved to have had her know; but I wouldn't be telling her; it's the one thing that I just couldn't justify doing even to the cheaters who'd pretty much destroyed me.

She'd said, and that quite persuasively, that the woman wanted to have a relationship with me, a friendship of sorts, weird, as Rebecca had noted, but one nevertheless. Could I do it knowing what I knew about how they'd done me? Very iffy. I couldn't before, but now?

"Okay then. You got time for lunch?" I said. She gave me a look and smiled.

"Okay, dad," she said. I was sure she felt she was making inroads against my hostility towards my ex-wife and the lot of them generally. It remained to be seen if she were right.

******

From movies, very often from movies, definitions of emotional or cataclysmic events are gotten. A Perfect Storm is one such example. My Perfect Storm? I got the visit from my daughter, and I was seriously considering accepting the olive branch the Pollards were extending to me. Then, I got a call, it was the very next morning, from my ex-best friend proposing a dinner at their house. And finally, while he was still on the line, I heard her in the background advising him as to how to handle me. Hearing my ex-wife, like that, once again brought home to me just how phony and condescending and shallow their offers of rapprochement were.

"Make him believe you for God's sake. He may be a pain in the butt, but he's our pain in the butt," she said. I could tell he'd covered the mouthpiece of the phone to muffle her remarks, but I'd heard them.

He came back to me and asked if his proposal was acceptable. I just told him I was thinking about it, and that I'd get back to him. We talked for another minute or two, and then I hung up. I had never felt so low, well, not recently at any rate. "A pain in the butt was I." Well, I guess from her point of view I was. Nice!

Every time I heard anything direct from my ex she destroyed me a little more. But this was the last time. I mean the very last time. I'd reached the end of the line, the very end.

******

I decided to take care of things in a public setting, but not too public. I went back to the street. Nobody there gave a damn about me, but that was the point. I wanted my body to be taken care of and the city could do it at no expense to anybody I knew.

I actually had a prescription I'd not used from the last time I was in the hospital; the bottle was still full. I'd be using them today, all of them, that oughta do it. I was actually feeling good. I wondered if that was normal for guys thinking like I was thinking at that particular moment in their sentient existence.

And then everything was dark and it was good. And, then I woke up and I was once again a failure. And then I was in the indigent ward of Grayson Memorial, but this time I didn't have any visitors. The police did show up and showed an appropriate amount of disinterest but that was it. They did apprise me of the fact that attempting to do myself in was illegal. But, the upside, from their point of view at least, was the fact that they would not be pressing charges. How fucking wonderful. I couldn't even get convicted of a crime that I was obviously guilty of. There was no justice, and then I slept. I slept a lot. And, then I slept some more.

******

"Mom, he's gone, and he left a note. He's going to kill himself! Maybe he has already!" said Rebecca.

Her mother grabbed the note from her hands and read it, quickly read it. He'd heard her dissing him-again. She hadn't been speaking that loud, she hadn't! By God she hadn't! But he heard her, again. Fuck!

"I went there just to see if I could get him to come to dinner like dad wanted and I found it. The door was open I went in and I found it," she cried. She was actually sobbing. Well, so was her mother.

"We'll find him," said her mother. "I know he's all right. He has to be all right! Damn him for doing this to her. This was the livin' end! She didn't deserve to be treated this way. Her heart was pure. Damn if it wasn't!"

******

She watched as he hung up the phone. "He'll get back to us as soon as he knows anything," said Rodney Pollard.

"He's got to find him, Rod. It's my fault again. You were there. You know I didn't mean to diss him, and he is a pain in the butt, and I'm going to tell him that when I see him. I love the guy for what he's done for us for crying out loud! I do."

"I know, I know, but he is going to be harder to convince than I am.

"Claire, you, we, have to be prepared… " he said.

"No! Do not go there, Rod. Don't even think it!" she shouted.

"I'm just saying," he said. "I'm worried. He has never gotten over you divorcing him to marry me. And then-after the accident…"

"I know. But he can't be dead. I would never ever forgive myself, Rod. Never!" she said.

"Claire, I know it's based on absolutely nothing, but my gut feeling tells me that the man is still alive. Like I say it's based on nada, but like you I cannot believe he's gone. I just can't," he said.

******

"Don, thank God! What've you found out?" said Rodney.

"He's alive and it was a close thing, but they pumped his stomach and, well, saved the guy," said the PI. "He's at Grayson, in the indigent psyche ward.

"The psyche ward! What?" said Rodney.

"Yeah, suicide cases are often sent there; it's protocol," he said.

"I gotta call Claire. She's been climbing the walls for two days, ever since we read that damnable note," he said.

The two men parted and Rodney Pollard called his wife. At least it was good news. Well, good news considering the situation."

******

She'd fainted while he was on the line. Not expected, but also not all that surprising.

He was now sitting with her on the couch and holding her. I really, really, really want to punch him in the face," she said between sobs.

"Yeah, I kinda do too," he said. "Claire, I'm going to go to him alone. Honey, I know you aren't going to like it, but this one is on me. You gotta stay here till I call you. Okay?" he said. His tone brooked no challenge. She nodded.

"But call soon," she said. "And make sure he's tied down. The little shit is not going to escape this time!" he nodded and didn't laugh.

"I will," he said.

******

He gazed at the ruins of his best friend through the opaque window of the sequestered room. The psyche ward had a different persona than did the other sections of the institution, he thought.

He sure was thin. Probably not eating. He could afford to eat, he knew. He'd checked up on the man surreptitiously over the last many years when opportunities to do so made sense, even Claire didn't know about that effort on his part.

The sonovabitch had his disability from Social Security. He had some bucks he made doing paperwork for the SA. He was okay. Financially, he was okay, just not emotionally, and "Here we are," he said aloud to no one. "What the fuck are we going to do with you old man. What the fuck!"

He'd entered the room holding the note that Rebecca had found when going to visit him. That had to have been super traumatic for her. That really pissed him off. No man should subject a child to something like that even by accident. She was "his" daughter, thought Rodney Pollard of himself; the other guy was just the fucking accidental sperm donor. Still as the bio-dad he had certain responsibilities too! Yes he did. One of which was to protect their child not destroy her emotionally. Oh yeah, he was definitely going to have a talk with the man.

He took a seat across from the man. He sighed. He heard the other man move and sigh as well.

The eyes of the inmate fluttered open. "What the fuck are you doing here," I said." my visitor frowned.

"And hello to you too, asshole," said Rodney Pollard. "Oh, and before I forget, Claire wants to punch you in the face and kick your high school ass and both of those quite enthusiastically."

"Sounds about right," I said, "about what I'd expect from a cheater like her."

"A cheater yes, as am I; and both of whom love you like family. Oh and also before I forget. Our daughter has been sobbing her eyes out for the past two days. She's the one who found your note. Hope you're proud of yourself," said Rodney.

I frowned. "She found my note? What was she doing at my place?" I said.

"She wanted you to come to dinner. You know the one I invited you to and you evidently forgot about," he said.

"In case you really don't get it; I didn't respond to your invitation because I didn't want to come after I heard your wife yet again dissing me. I mean why would you even want me there? Because you feel you owe me? Forget it. You don't owe anything. Now you can go," I said.

"She wasn't actually dissing you. She was just venting. She's tired of having to apologize to you every which way and then have you finding fault with the apology. Well, that's the way she sees things," he said. "In some ways the woman still has feelings for you. Are they sexual feelings? No. Are they true and emotional feelings? Yes. Try and get those salient facts straight in your head. Okay?"

"Tell her, 'I' apologize. And now you can go. Oh, and I really do apologize about Rebecca finding that note. I didn't anticipate that happening. I really didn't," I said.

"It would be a hundred percent better if you'd do the apologizing in person. It might be humiliating, but you could use a little of that for damn sure," said Rodney. "And yes, I know that sounds cold of me considering all you've done for this family."

?"You think I need more humiliation! You really said that to me! No, no, I don't need to see either of those women ever again. I'm actually glad it was you came to see me today. I couldn't stand seeing them, not after this," I said. "You know seeing their phony-baloney tears! They don't want me around. I'm in the way of their happiness and yours too if it comes to that. Get the fuck out of my life!" I was breaking up.

"Look, Jim, the fact is we need you. And by 'we' I mean me and Claire and Rebecca. Please, accept my apology for not being up to the job of showing you how much we care for you as a person. Are we always going to be doing it right? Hell no. But, we'll be trying. Can you or anyone ask for more than that! I don't think so."

I stared at the man for a long minute. He stared back.

"I'm alone, Rodney old bud. There's nothing and no one in my life. I can't work at a serious job. No woman is ever going to care a whit about me; hell, it's clear to me that Claire never did. So, what's left?" I said. "It hurts me that I failed to end things if you want to know. And I'm not being maudlin or trying to make you feel bad or emotional or any of it. It's just that I don't have any reason to care anymore. It's hard to even so much as take showers or get up and over the bumps with my skitterboard. Put another way: life is hard and there is no upside to putting up with it."

"Jimmy, I don't pretend to know how hard things are for you. Hell nobody can know that who hasn't experienced it. I'm sure that shrink you went to told you as much," he said.

"You know about that?" I said.

"Yeah, Sammy told me," he said.

"Well, for me it was a waste of time. Other guys who've had it happen to them were soldiers or had lots of help or families and the like. I don't have any of that. So no, you don't know and can't know what it's like and you never will. So, just leave well enough alone and I will never bother you or interfere with Claire's rules or make things hard for you or cost you any money, or be a pain in her butt, none of it. Just leave me alone, Rod, please," I said, and I started to cry. And the asshole came and held me and I didn't drive him off or spit on him or any of it and I should have.

He hung around until the orderlies chased him off; that was after 9:00pm He'd been with me for six hours. And what came of his lengthy visit? Nothing. He told me that I'd be getting more visits, and that yes Claire would likely be the next one. It was interesting to me that he'd said that he'd stopped Claire from coming with him because he needed to clear the decks first, whatever that meant.

CHAPTER 17:

And then she was there across from me. "Before you open your mouth and go off on me," said Claire. "I have a couple of messages for you."

"Yeah, what?" I said.

"One your daughter is out in the waiting room. She'll be coming in in a few minutes."

"You said a couple of messages," I said, not actually reacting to the information that my daughter was outside waiting for me.

"Yes," she said. She came toward me, smiled, and slapped me as hard as she could.

"What the fuck!" I said. "Why…"

"Because you deserved it. Because it made me feel good, actually better than I thought it would," she said.

"Well, don't do it again or I'll have your pretty pink ass arrested," I said. She didn't seem especially concerned with my threat.

"Jimmy, don't you ever do anything like this again. It's not fair and I do not deserve to live the rest of my life grieving over your headstone. Got that young man!" she said. I nodded, sadly nodded.

"Okay," I said. "I won't. That enough?"

"Yes, on that score.

"Jimmy, how are you feeling? Are you okay? I'm worried about you," she said.

"You mean how do I feel after being slapped as hard as anybody's ever been slapped?" I said.

"Jimmy!" she said.

"Didn't you talk to the other cheater? Surely he doesn't keep secrets of that magnitude from you," I said. There was not the slightest doubt in my mind that he'd told her everything I'd told him.

"Some stuff, but he told me that anything else would have to come from you," she said. I nodded. What she said had the ring of truth.

"I feel bad, really, really bad, okay! And there is not a damn thing that you or him or Rebecca or the church or anybody or anything can do about it. All I want or need is to be left alone to grow old more or less gracefully and then die. Yeah, I tried to hurry things up. I promise not to do that again. The image of you crying crocodile tears over my headstone is enough to quash any further attempts to end things that I might otherwise have entertained. Okay!" She nodded a sad nod. There was an incipient tear forming at the corner of her eye. The interesting thing? I didn't give a damn.

I needed her, and I needed her bad. I think she knew it too. She couldn't see under the covers. She couldn't see my stone hard erection, but she knew it was there. I knew she knew it. I had a perverse idea. I should go for it. She took a step nearer the bed. I did it. I threw the sheet off of me.

"See there babe. You're the first woman to see it since Nadine dumped me after I lost 'em," I said. "See it? I didn't lose it, my legs yeah, but not my thingy. Ain't I the luckiest sonovabitch you ever met. Six inches of steel hard flesh. It'll never feel the inside of a woman's sheath again. Got any idea how I feel about that. Let me reiterate. I feel really, really bad!" For the longest moment she stared, shocked out of her drawers I was sure.

"Oh my God!" she squealed.

"No, not God," I said, "just my dick. It still looks pretty good huh?"

"Damn it Jimmy!" she said; then she ran out on me. I felt like laughing and crying at the same time; how the hell is that even possible. Well, the good news? My little foray into exhibitionism might have been what it would take to get them all the hell away from me. Well, one could hope.

Oddly I went to sleep after she left and I dreamt about Nadine. She'd had a great pussy, as I recalled. I missed my time with her. Would've liked to have made it permanent. But, well, she turned out to be more interested in having a whole man than mere eternal love, or maybe she wanted both. I would've settled for one or the other, but the way things looked I was gonna get neither. It wasn't fair! It wasn't fucking fair!

******

Well hope might well spring eternal for some, but for me it sprang futile. I got another visitor. This one was one I would not be pulling any theatrics to get rid of, and she did look beautiful, as beautiful as her mother.

"Hi daddy," she said.

"Hello. Rebecca," I said. I was choking up seeing her like that all beautiful and she noticed. Jesus! Why couldn't she be my daughter for real instead of the cheaters'!

"I've missed you," she said.

"Yeah sure," I said.

"Dad, you have to come home to us," she said.

"No," I said.

"Daddy!" she said. "I want…"

"Stop right there, Becca. Stop right there. You might feel a little bad because of what happened before, and I'd really appreciate it if you would let that go. I don't want you to feel bad. But, I know I'm just in the way at that house. You're momma doesn't want me around except maybe for the occasional holiday do or such. And, she and I have a history that makes being around her very hard on me anyway. So no. Please respect my wishes and don't ask me to 'come home' as you put it. And add to that, I'd just be in the way of you living your life too, so again, no," I said.

This was a message even the cheaters could get their heads around. I was pretty sure of that one.

"Daddy, about the things you heard me say that day. I didn't mean any of it. You know that!" she said. "How could I mean something like that, any of that."

"Because you did. Because you have another dad who you are invested in and I'm just in the way and that's all there is to it. I've heard it. I've heard it from all of you. And, I understand it. You have busy lives, and having to care for and pay attention to an invalid all of the time is just too big a deal to deal with. So go back to your momma and tell her you've delivered her message, or your dad, whichever one told you to come here today and say what you've said; and deliver my message: I want to be left alone! Please, okay?" I said.

"Dad you are so wrong!" she said and then she did leave, and yes, she was crying and I felt bad and so what.

Good! Finally! I thought. And then I got sick to my stomach and vomited.

******

"You did what! And he did what!" said Rodney. "Tell me again!"

"I slapped him. He'd scared me and I was angry!" she said.

"Jesus! That's the way to get on his good side-not!" he said.

"And then he whipped out his cock and played with it right in front of me. He was hard as steel too; I'm sure of that.

"I feel so guilty going there dressed like I was. I teased him, Rod. I teased the man, a man who can't have a woman because no woman wants him like he is. I cannot even imagine anything more cruel that I could've done to him.

"I ran out of there. He probably thinks I did it because he embarrassed me. But that wasn't it. I ran out to minimize the teasing that I'd done him. I want to go back, Rod. But I will most definitely dress down next time I do; I mean if I do go back to see him again, him and his six inch heat seeking moisture missile. I've figured that part out for damn sure."

"Claire, our guy's in the wrong on a lot of this. Leaving out for a moment the fact that we cheated on him and tried to get him into being a willing cuckold; he does bear some responsibility for all of the misunderstandings that have beset us all, and I do mean all; us included in the all. But, there just happens to be one unassailable truth that you and I, and even Rebecca, need to keep in mind. He saved our fucking lives, and lost his in the doing of it! Yes, he's still breathing, but for him that's nothing more than a seriously inconvenient reality and way over rated. There's no getting around it, Claire, not on any level. And, it's a debt we can never adequately pay. We might at some point be able to do for him something that he would care a whit about, but I'll be damned if I know what that something is!"

"Yes you do," she said.

"I do not," he said.

"Yes you do. He needs a woman and that's what we can do for him. We've got money, we've got influence, we've got contacts. And, I am certain that a woman of his own is the only thing that he will ever give a whit about, to use your words," she said.

"Claire, we can't make a woman love him, not the way he is. Yeah, we can find him a whore, buy him one. He might even go for it someway somehow, but he will never give a whit about it, not on any level," he said.

"Rod, we've got to figure it out. How to find a true love for him. We've got to! For our own sanity, we've got to!"

"Well, I'm open to suggestions," he said.

******

"Momma, he doesn't like me and he never will. I know it," said Rebecca.

"Honey, the feelings of a man are always pretty delicate in spite of all of the nonsense of how tough and macho and everything that they are. Say anything that hurts their pride and they'll cry like babies. Make them think you don't love them and they can become suicidal, like your daddy James Clausen did.

"We women are emotional too, but we at least have more sense than the men do," said Claire Pollard. As for whether or not your daddy loves you, he does. He is just afraid that you don't love him and he doesn't want to chance it that you may not. So, he is cutting himself off from you, from all of us. Can you understand what I'm saying."

"I guess so, mom. But what can we do? I want to do something!" said Rebecca.

"Find someone for him to help him," said her mother.

"You mean a wife?" said Rebecca.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," said Claire.

"But he doesn't have any legs?" said Becca.

"That doesn't mean he can't be a good husband to some woman. But yes, it is going to be hard to find a woman for him," said Claire.

"But you are going to try?" said Rebecca.

"Try, yes. Whether I can succeed is another question at the least," said Claire, "but at the least I am going to try, so is your father."

******

They'd been members at Knollwood Country Club since they'd been married, some seventeen years now. And really had been going to Knollwood even before that while she was still married to that other good man, James Clausen. But today she wasn't in attendance for fun or to socialize in the true sense of the word. Oh no, she was on the hunt.

She was going to find her "used to be" husband a mate, and not just one who wanted a nice payday, but a woman who could appreciate a good man. A good man but a man with no legs and no serious job. Difficult? Difficult to find such a broad minded woman? Oh yeah, maybe impossible, but no one was going to be able to say after the fact that she hadn't tried.

She had two or three candidates in mind. Roberta Shore, Cassandra Hawking, and LeaAnn Dressler. All were members of the Club. All used to be well off. All were currently hard up for cash since their respective husbands had dumped on them and left them collectively pretty nearly destitute: the prenups had pretty much guaranteed that state of affairs for the ladies. LeaAnn did have a smallish alimony check she'd gotten in her divorce from Carl Dressler, but the other two had to work and Cassandra still hadn't yet found employment; Claire did expect to be hit up for a job by Cassandra: Rodney Pollard really did have influence.

The slim redhead approached plopped down on the stool beside her. "Claire, I got your message. I am so glad you called. I was getting up my nerve to call you," said Cassandra Hawking.

"Good to see you," said Claire. The other woman smiled the smile of one saved by the bell.

"I guess I should ask what's up?" said Cassandra.

"We need to sit down. I have a big favor for you to consider," said Claire.

"A favor? For you?" said Cassandra. "Consider it done."

"Hmm, I wish it were that easy," said Claire. "But no, this is a really big favor and if it were to work out, I would not only be grateful, but you would prosper like you never dreamed of prospering."

"Oh wow! I'm in, no matter what it is, I'm in," said Cassandra. Claire smirked.

"Yes, well, we'll see," said Claire. "But, first off, what are you having?"

"Oh yes, a martini if they still serve them here," said Cassandra, smiling. Claire waved at the girl who was manning the daytime shift at the bar and held up two fingers. The bartender nodded: she'd already been clued as to what was likely to be ordered.

The small talk that preceded the arrival of the martinis, was, well, small.

"So tell me, Claire, what is it that's so big a deal for you that you need my help," said Cassandra.

"Cassie, I know your divorce from what's his name, was a bad one. I have a friend that is in need of a woman. Bad in need!" she said. "You're in need of a man, and all…"

"You're matchmaking today!" said Cassandra, genuinely surprised.

"You could say that," said Claire.

"Okay," said Cassandra, "I'll bite. Who is it? Is he super ugly? Is that why you're running interference for the guy?" She was smiling. She was sure the guy wasn't ugly, probably one of her husband's employees.

"No, no, not ugly. It's my ex-husband," said Claire.

"Jimmy?" said Cassandra. "But he's…"

"Yes, he's handicapped," said Claire. "But he's the best guy in the world. You could do far worse. And with you on his arm I know I could get him to accept a job from my husband and then you two would be doing real good; trust me on that one." The look on her friend's face was not real encouraging.

"Claire, I agree, Jimmy's a great guy, but… " said Cassandra.

"Okay, I get it," said Claire. "Do me a favor, don't say anything about me asking you. Please," she said.

"You got it," said Cassandra.

******

"Yes, I talked to Cassie. She was embarrassed. Hell, I was embarrassed," said Claire.

"I can imagine," said Rodney.

"I'm finally getting a sense of just how hard it is for a guy in his situation. Compared to his problems my little concerns are pretty much bullshit!" she said. The man nodded.

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"Anybody else on your list?" said Rodney.

"A couple, but one of them is a little old for him. The other one has some alimony coming in though the way I hear it it's not very much," said Claire, "so she might be a possibility, but in truth things don't look too good." He nodded, slowly.

"Well, we just gotta hope that something or someone will show up and solve the problem," he said. "I cannot believe that a man as good as he is at base cannot have any hope of finding true love out there. I mean after divorce, handicapped or not. Hey, what about talking to that guy at the Salvation Army, Captain Traynor?"

"Captain Traynor?" she said. "I don't know. Maybe. It might be worth a try."

"Yes, Captain Traynor, that's the ticket. We'll continue to try other means for now, but maybe he can be on the list for a future go," he said.

"Yes, that'll work, well it might," she said.

******

I was smiling a lot even if I was still in the hospital eating hospital food and wishing I had the means to get one of the nurses in bed with me: talk about wishful thinking!

Well I was well rested. And, now I'd got another visit from her. I couldn't believe it. I'd bitched at her. I'd told her to get lost and to stay lost. I'd flashed my dick at her shocked and no doubt disgusted face, but here she was again. Oh, and she wasn't alone.

"And you're here why?" I said. "I told you last time…"

"Shut the fuck up, Jimmy. For once just shut the fuck up and let me talk, okay!" she said. I sighed my most submissive sigh and waited all but snarling at her and her friend.

"Oh, and this is Roberta Shore," she said.

I snarled a "Why the hell are you here?" greeting at the newcomer. She smiled back at me, but perhaps with a bit of the same snarl that I had tendered her.

"Yes, you were ultimately nasty the last time I was here, so I've brought reinforcements this time around in case I have to beat you up. Got it?" said Claire, interrupting things.

"All of which begs the question as to why you're here. You know I don't want you or your man around here bugging me. There is nothing good can come from it, you being here, so why?" I said.

"Because you're family and we love you, Jimmy. And we are not going to just disappear because you're still bitter about the divorce-Jesus, Jimmy, after all this time.

"Anyway, we're going to be around whether you like it or not, period! Oh, and Rebecca says to tell you hello," she said.

"Rebecca didn't say that. Or if she did, it's because you put the words in her mouth. She doesn't love me, she loves the other guy. Uh-you know, Rodney something or other," I said, being as sarcastic as I could. She changed her apparent mood.

"So how are you feeling? Really?" said Claire, apparently really meaning it.

"Oh pretty good I guess, great actually. I feel like I could run a marathon. But alas, I have some physical limitations in that regard," I said.

"Funny," she said, "not"

"And how are you feeling?" I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"You know, are you well? Is everything going good at your place, the castle in the sky? I mean you know," I said.

"Yes, everything is fine. It could be for you too if you'd just agree to come home to us," she said.

"Oh yeah, and listen to my ex-wife and my ex-best friend getting it on while I masturbate in the next room. Yeah, well that's a picture that doesn't works for me. Well, you can imagine."

"Do you think that'd be a good picture to masturbate to, Roberta?" I said.

"Huh? I… " I don't… " she started.

"You don't know? Hmm, me either. But, at first blush I'd have to say that the odds would be massively against it. I mean the jealousy and all that I'd be beset with. Well, you can imagine," I said. Roberta looked decidedly unhappy with my using her as a foil to argue my case with my ex-wife.

We went back and forth for the next minutes with neither side giving quarter.

"Okay, okay, Jimmy. We'll call today a draw. But, the offer is open. You really need to rethink things. Oh, and thank you for not exposing yourself again," said Claire.

"Well, and thank you too," I said. "You know, for giving me another reason to masturbate. You know the image of two beautiful women talking sex with me and all.

"Oh, one more thing. Would you, the both of you, come nearer to me for just a second," I said.

"Huh? Why?" said Claire, looking inordinately suspicious.

"Look, I promise not to do anything untoward. Really, I swear," I said.

She nodded and she and her friend approached near to the bed. I took a long deep breath breathing in their scent. "Awe the scent of a woman, women!" I said. "There's nothing like it."

"Jimmy!" said Claire.

"Well, I can't get any of my porn sites on this damn TV, and it's still going to be another week before they let me outta here. So… " I said. "And even the porn sites only give you pics no scent of what's going on in the pics. I mean obviously."

"Jimmy! Stop it," said Claire. The two women frowned, turned, half waved, and left. I had to think that I'd won the match on points. A knockout? No, not that. But I did feel like I got my licks in.

******

"I can't," said Roberta. They were seated in a booth at a Denny's immediately around the corner

from the hospital. "That man is so bitter he may never get over it. He is a good looking cuss. Still, the no legs thing is a major downer, but, that said, not the worst thing in the world and overcomeable as far as I'm concerned. But, for a woman, especially this woman, to want to be with him, he'd have to be willing to try. I am not into being his mother. He is definitely not willing to try. No, can't do it."

"I understand, and he was at his worst today. He hates me. I mean I did dump him for his best friend as he correctly states. Couldn't help it, but that is not an excuse that he's ever going to accept or let me off the hook for. Anyway, Robby, thanks for giving the situation a look see. I more than appreciate it. And, the job I mentioned to you is yours for the taking regardless. Thanks again," said Claire.

******

"So your friend didn't go for it," said Rodney.

"No, and I couldn't blame her. He was at his absolute worst today. He even made us let him smell us. Talk about embarrassing!" said Claire. "That man is hurting so bad I mean I just don't know. I don't think he'd try to kill himself again, but who the hell knows for sure."

"Nobody knows something like that for sure," he said. "Well regardless, I'm not giving up. There may come a time when we have to, but I'm not at that place yet. We'll just keep the faith as long as we can that's all we can do, I guess," he said.

******

"Denise, you look to be down today," said Rodney to the secretary.

"I'm fine, sir," she said.

"Denise, I'm a friend, okay. What's the problem? Please," he said, pressing her. The thirty-eight year old woman was never down, but today she was, and her friend and boss wasn't letting it go. They'd been a team for the past fourteen years and Mister Rodney Pollard had come to depend on her. But, like anyone else, secretaries and money moguls alike could be stressed out and beset with personal problems. It was clear that today Rodney Pollard was not alone among the stressed and pressed.

"Sir, really, I am fine. It's my sister," she said.

"Your sister?" he said.

"Yes sir," she said. "She's a soldier. She just got back from the Middle East, Afghanistan. There was one of those bomb thingys. She was hurt bad, sir, very bad. The whole family is upset if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I see. I am so sorry, Denise. Is there anything I can do to help?" said Rodney Pollard.

"I don't think so, sir. She lost her left leg and her arm below the elbow," she said. "Kinda like your Mister Clausen I guess. It's very bad, sir. And, if that were not enough, her husband is divorcing her. Found his soulmate or so the asshole claims. I mean she hasn't got enough to deal with without her husband of ten years screwing her over! She's kinda down on men anymore."

The look on the face of the man was missed by the lady sitting at her desk, well, she was looking down so that kinda figured. Denise was a pretty girl. Would her sister also be pretty?

"Wow!" he said, finally. I know exactly how you feel. Yes, just like Mister Clausen."

"How is she getting on? I mean is she staying with family or… " he said.

"Yes, with mom and dad. But, they're old and can't really do a lot for her. She wants to get a job, but… well, sir, she's very depressed right now. She mostly just sits and broods or reads want ads that she mostly doesn't follow up on. I don't blame her of course. But…"

"I see," he said. "Look, Denise, we're having a barbecue at our place this weekend. Do you think you could get your sister to come? I will use the occasion to kind of informally interview her and maybe see what I can do about getting her a job that she might be able to handle. Whaddya say?"

"Sir? That would be wonderful. I mean if she could get a job… " said Denise.

"Yes, well, I do have some contacts. You know that as well as anybody on the planet," he said, smiling.

It was a long shot and that on two fronts. One: he'd have to persuade his ex-best friend to come to the barbecue. And two: the two of them, Denise's sister and James Clausen, would have to hit it off. If they did there might finally be some light at the end of the tunnel. He had some thinking to do, planning and thinking. Match making sucked, but in this case maybe, just maybe, not so much. He was moderately concerned about what the woman might look like, but that was a question that had to be left on the back burner at least for the moment.

CHAPTER 18:

"Barbecue, what barbecue?" said Claire.

"The one I decided on today. Denise has a sister that's had some very bad luck. So I invited the two of them to come to our barbecue.

"You know, we should try to get Jimmy to come too: he gets out of the hospital tomorrow. I'm going to be there to pick him up, and no he doesn't know it yet. But I think that the news that a bunch of women will be at the barbecue would give him a chance to use his smeller some more. That might entice him. Whaddya think?" said Rod, he was smiling.

"Not funny, Rod. He was very rude to Roberta. To her credit she didn't take offense, but he was a complete and total asshole if you know what I mean," she said.

"This isn't a matchmaking effort, well, it's not planned to be. But it is a gathering. I know he's lonely. Hell, he's said as much and he's said it often. I think it's time to go to a full court press and get our guy to join the rest of the human race," he said.

"Okay," she said. "Who knows maybe he'll propose to your secretary. Wouldn't that be a kick in the ass. She is single right?"

"Yes, she's single," said Rod. "And if I didn't mention it, so's her sister. I haven't met her, but according to Denise one of her sister's biggest problems is that she's down on men. A nasty divorce is what she told me. The asshole found his soulmate or so he told her, the sister, and needed a divorce," he said.

He didn't immediately comment on the look she gave him, but then he did. Her look communicated the undeniable fact that the man he was talking about sounded just like himself, Rodney Pollard. But of course in Rodney's case he'd stolen his best friend's wife. Not exactly the same thing, but close.

"Yeah, I know. The asshole does sound a lot like me," he said.

"And me too," said Claire. "So…"

"Nothing, but I did tell Denise that I would try to get her sister a job. She's evidently been looking for one but without success. I'll kind of quietly interview her. She just won't know I'm doing it," he said.

"Hmm, sounds like it's going to be an interesting barbecue. But, you gotta be the one to get our guy to come. He's not going to listen to me. You might want to take Rebecca with you too. That might get you over the hump with him so to speak," she said.

"Yes, that's a good idea. Yes, I will," he said.

******

The two of them were fidgeting as they waited in the room assigned to the purpose for the escape of their recalcitrant family member, Jimmy "no legs" Clausen.

"Remember, honey he is your daddy," said Rodney.

"Yes, dad, I know. And I like him too even if he doesn't believe me," said Rebecca. Her tone bespoke a feeling of exasperation, or maybe it was constipation; her de facto dad wasn't sure.

"Honey, we have to get him to the barbecue this weekend, it's critical. Okay?" he said.

"Okay, dad, but I don't know why this particular barbecue is so darn important said his daughter," she said.

"Just take it from me it is. Okay? I mean it, Becca. This is a time of turning points I can feel it. The man saved our lives. Whatever the cost, the rest of us, all of us, have to do what we can for the man. I know it's going to be dicey, but you above all are critical to the whole thing. Okay?" he said.

"Okay dad, okay! Sheesh!" she said. He shook his head, but slowly. He was worried.

The two of them turned at the same time as the man was wheeled into the room.

"Daddy!" exclaimed Rebecca. She went to him and hugged him.

"Wow! I was told I had a visitor, but not two visitors," I said. "Thank you for the greeting, Rebecca. It was nice."

"Nice to you see you, friend," said Rodney. I nodded. But I didn't say anything.

"I've gotten permission to wheel you outta here right away if you'll allow," said Rodney.

"Really, and who gave you that permission," I said.

"The head nurse actually," he said, nodding toward the nurses' station down the hall.

"Oh," I said.

"Yes, well, you need a ride. Yeah, you could all a cab, I guess, but letting us drop you would save you a couple of bucks and give us a chance," he motioned to himself and his daughter, "to talk a little. No pressure," he said, "promise."

The fact was it would save me a couple of bucks, accepting a ride from them. The fact was it would save me the best part of seventy-five bucks: Littleton was an almost two hour drive.

I nodded. "Okay," I said. Rebecca being there decided me. Had it been just him I likely would have turned him down in spite of the cost of a cab but with her in the mix I'd be able to talk to her and not so much to him. That worked for me.

"Thank you," he said. He came to the chair I was sitting in and took up wheeling duties for the ride down to the lobby and the exit. I was sure he had his car in the valet space waiting for me. Well, if the hospital had had a valet space he would have.

The fact was it didn't have one, but I'm sure he would've found a way to accomplish the same thing. He did have the bucks to do whatever he wanted to do and get almost anything he wanted to get.

I nodded my thanks of his thanks.

He had an SUV waiting. Getting in was going to be a problem. Well, I thought it was going to be a problem, but then it wasn't. The damn thing had an elevator built into the passenger side. Which allowed me to muscle myself into the elevator's bench and after the three foot ride to the passenger seat I was able to slide in of my own accord and get situated.

He had to have had the damn thing made special. I'd never seen or even heard of anything like it.

"Nice," I said.

"Thanks, I figured it would make things easier for me if not for you whenever you came over. You know when you finally get to the point where your insufferable pride would finally allow me to pick you up," he said.

I didn't answer him. My insufferable pride had nothing to do with things the way I saw them. It was more my overwhelming and undying rage at the betrayal of him and my wife that was getting in the way of allowing the things he wanted me to allow. Oh yeah! But for whatever reason I wasn't going to get into any of that today. I wasn't tired exactly. Well, maybe tired of being in bed so much and listening to the hospital shrink shrink me.

My system was clear of the drugs that had almost done me in. The cops, or the D.A. whichever, had had their day threatening me with jail time if I tried it again. Helluva thing laws against suicide attempts. Yeah, I just wanted to get out of there and get home and cook me up some grub that didn't taste like hospital healthy! He must have been reading my mind.

"You hungry?" he said. I looked over at him. Rebecca intervened.

"Daddy, can we go to Denny's?" she said. She was looking at me when she said it. That made up my mind for me.

"Okay, if your other dad's got the cash. I'm a little short today," I said.

"I got it," he said. "Denny's it is." Rebecca smiled. I read it as a smile of pride that her other dad was rich, but I could've been wrong about that.

We were halfway through our patty melts when he hit me with it. I should have been expecting it or something like it but I wasn't.

"Got a barbecue this weekend can I prevail upon you to come?" he said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Oh daddy, yes, please come, okay!" said Rebecca. I smirked. That's why my kid was there. He knew I'd have a harder time turning her down, that even though I had told her I didn't want to see any of them again including her. I smiled, and he caught it and realized that I'd caught him. His look told me he was expecting me to turn him down Rebecca's presence notwithstanding.

"I guess," I said. "I mean if I can bum a ride off of you. It's too long a ride from Littleton in the van and too expensive." The look on his face at my all too easy capitulation was actually comical.

"You got it," he said. "You absolutely got it." His happiness almost made me wish I'd turned him down. Happiness was not something I wanted to be party to supplying him with. But, I guess I was going to come to his little do. I could always call later and cancel. I wouldn't but the possibility was mine if nothing else.

He promised to call with the details the next day. It was Wednesday, and it was August third, and it was turning into something I would not have guessed possible before my stupid attempt to off myself. The one thing that the shrink had given me was the realization that I had been stupid and that I had to stop living in the past, at least not so much of the time. That I would ever totally forgive or forget the dirty hand I'd been dealt by the dynamic duo was highly unlikely, as he said, but that didn't mean I had to let it rule and ruin my life, what was left of it.

We talked quite a bit at Denny's and much of my conversation was indeed with my daughter, the same girl that had held me to be such a pain in the ass not so long before. But if my conversation with Rebecca was long and friendly, and it was, the attention I was getting per that conversation from my ex-best friend was almost certifiable. I mean he looked to be analyzing me or, more accurately, my unstated motivation. We'd be talking soon him and me; I was sure of it. And it wouldn't be me initiating the conversation, oh no, that would be him and it wouldn't be long in the happening. I figured the barbecue on Saturday was likely.

******

He'd picked me up early in that same fancy dancy SUV with the elevator; well, it was kind of a long drive. Jesus I wish I had that car. Had to cost a ton even without the elevator which would have cost a ton in itself. I had to ask.

"So, Rodney, how much did a ride like this cost you if I may be so bold?" I said. He gave me a look.

"You don't wanna know," he said.

"Yes, I do," I said, pushing it. He sighed.

"Two hundred," he said.

"Huh? Two hundred dollars?" I said. My implied question was stupid, but it's what he'd said, sort of.

"Thousand," he said.

"Oh," I said, suitably impressed. "Wish I could afford one. Hell I wish I could drive one," and I laughed. "That elevator on the passenger side is real useful."

"It has the same thing on the driver's side," he said. "Oh, and it has the capacity to install controls you could use to navigate around too." Now I was really impressed.

"Yeah, now if I could only find me a couple hundred grand lying around somewhere," I said.

"You could have this one if you want, James. You have to know I had it built to make things easier for you," he said. I did know it. And, boy did I wish I didn't. I didn't respond to his obvious offer.

The drive to their place was kinda quiet after that, not silent exactly, but definitely quiet. And then we were there and getting out of the elevator and crossing the few feet of the hall to the Penthouse door. I was on my skitterboard. He paused before keying the door.

"Jim, just for today, okay if you transfer to the chair I've provided inside to get around. I mean just for today," he said. I looked him askance, but nodded. It would be easier to socialize in the chair than on my board.

She must have heard the elevator coming up. She was waiting for us. And she was waiting with the chair. They'd obviously planned, and planned well. "I'm glad you decided to come," said Claire. I hoisted myself into the chair. It was much the same as me hoisting myself onto my couch at home.

She was holding her wine, probably merlot I thought, and sporting and earnest expression as I made the transfer. "Jim, are we good?" she sure as heck wasn't waiting to go through all of the niceties of greeting and settling down, not my Claire! I cut to the chase.

"I don't know, Claire, things are kind of roiling around in my head. If you mean am I in control of my emotions now, well, I'm done with the suicidal stuff. If you mean am I good with you and him being together, rest assured I will never be good with that. Dealing with it? Maybe that but good with it, no," I said. She nodded.

"Okay, I think I can understand where you're coming from, Jim. And as I've said before I just hope that at some point you'll find yourself a woman who you can love and help you to forget 'me' in those respects. I mean what Rodney and I did to you," she said.

"Yeah well, the odds of that happening aren't real good if you know what I mean," I said. "But, I'm here and I hope the food will be good."

Claire and I had wandered out on the expansive first floor patio with drinks and had been conversing for a while about nothing of significance for some time. Actually we'd been talking mostly about her pursuit of her hobby, cooking.

I should note here, that Rebecca, with her other dad, had gone to pick up other guests as soon as we'd arrived at their place. They'd just gotten back. I was glad for that; being cooped up with my ex-wife for the half hour just past had been kind of a test for me, and one that I wasn't sure I could pass; but, I guess I had. I wasn't emotional like every single other time I'd been around her since our breakup sixteen years gone.

Rodney came out on the patio and joined us. Following immediately behind him was Rebecca who came to me-I was sure under orders-and gave me a big old kiss on the cheek. She'd startled me, but I guess I did appreciate her expression of affection.

"That was nice," I said reacting to her.

"Love you, dad," she said. She seemed to genuinely mean it, but she could have been acting; I suspected that she was.

"Jim, this is Denise my indispensable right hand at the shop. And this is Ann her sister," he said. Suddenly I was staring. Denise was a very pretty woman who I'd met before. And her sister, Ann, who I'd never met was even prettier, stunning actually. Oh, and she only had one leg and one arm, that is Ann did!

"Jim, are you with us, man?" said Rodney. I let my staring gaze slowly float in his direction. I think I nodded.

"Uh-yes, nice to see you Denise, Ann," I said. I'd met Denise of course several times over the years, but this was the first time I'd met Ann.

Ann came forward a step using a crutch to support her progress; she was smirking. I was in my wheelchair with an afghan covering my lap. It wasn't actually cold but it was a little cool and plus it kinda protected me from the overly sympathetic gaze of people who didn't know me well.

"Afghanistan," she said, "a roadside bomb." I nodded.

"Oh sure, sorry," I said.

"I hear a building fell on you," she said.

"Not a building exactly, I said, "just a part of one."

"Oh, okay," she said. "I'm glad you cleared that one up." It was clear to me that this girl had it together-unlike me.

Pretty soon everybody had a drink in their hand. Rebecca though only seventeen had a glass in her hand too. Well, she was at home and only six months or so shy of legal adulthood.

The patio was a good forty by forty feet: bigger than most apartments. I'd talked to Claire at some length before the other guests arrived. And after they arrived I'd had a few mundane words with Rod, while the drinks were being put together; I'd actually helped him with that. The heavy conversation that I had anticipated him initiating didn't look to be happening. Well, that was just as well with me. I'd also had a few words with Denise while Claire and Ann got together for a few words of their own; and now I was near the outer wall of the patio and Ann was leaning against it supporting herself, her crutch unattended also leaned against the railing; she was talking to me.

"I have to say I was surprised to find another gimp here today," said Ann.

"No more surprised than was I," I said. "And might I add the surprise was more than pleasant. I have to say that I do suspect my brother of planning this."

"Thank you for that," she said. "As for him planning this, not so, my sister told him I was in need of a job. I think I'm here to get the once over to see if I can qualify to work for him. But he's never met or seen me before."

"Hmm, okay," I said, "maybe. Anyway, so, no husband for an American hero?" I said.

"Hah!" she said. "No, no husband. He took off with some teenybopper as soon as I got back stateside. Told me it had nothing to do with the fact that I was half the person he married. Oh no, it was just that he'd met his soulmate and the feelings he had for her just couldn't be denied. Words to that affect at any rate."

"Hmm," I said. "I'm familiar."

"How about you?" she said. "Your wife leave you because of your situation? Denise told me you weren't married but had been."

"Huh?" I said. "I mean you don't know?"

"Know? Know what?" she said.

"About my situation?" I said.

"No, not really. I know you saved our hosts, the whole family, and lost your legs in the doing of it," she said. "That, and that you're divorced, but that's about all. Am I in no trespass territory here?"

I couldn't believe it, but I did believe her. Her tone was such that it was clear to me that she didn't have a clue about the big thing. That put me in an uncomfortable place. I wasn't sure that I wanted her to be in the know. No, that's not right, I did want her to be, but I just wasn't sure that this was the best time. I decided to hedge my bets.

"Well, it was very bad," I said. "But as to the details, maybe another time if that would be all right."

"Sure, I can dig it," she said. It was right then that our host shanghaied me to help with the barbecuing. Boy did I want to talk to the woman some more. But, that would have to wait until later. I was busy making the best hamburgers east of the Far East. Well, I was putting the veggies in the burgers while my ex-best friend was flipping the patties. They'd be good, the burgers.

"And they were good, and I had two of them. I'd have to burn off some calories on the morrow.

We were on our second drinks and Denise and Claire were in the kitchen clearing the dishes. I didn't know where Rodney and Rebecca had got to, but I wasn't as concerned about them as I was about the renewed conversation I was having with Ann Rogers at that particular moment.

We'd been talking for a good while and I had decided to chance it and ask her out. We'd not be dancing but we could do other stuff: dinner, movies, exhibits, live shows lots of stuff. At the least of it we'd be good company for each other. I sure as hell needed someone to talk to and a woman was the kind of someone that I most wanted to talk to in the whole world. And, Ann Rogers was so damn pretty. Yes, she was missing some body parts, but boy could I relate to that.

"So any chance?" I said.

"Sure, I guess," she said. "Why not. We sure as hell have some stuff in common for darn sure."

"Okay, then if next Friday evening is good for you, I'll pick you up at say sevenish," I said.

"That'd be fine," she said. She didn't ask how a guy with no legs could do any picking up; I considered that a good thing.

******

The Red Barron had the best steaks in town. I hadn't been to dinner there since getting dumped by Nadine. But, maybe my new friend would be willing to extend our relationship and go out with me on a more or less regular basis; that was what I was shooting for. To my mind's eye she was for damn sure a winner, and a singular beauty. Light brown shoulder length hair, a delicate porcelain complexion, green eyes, maybe five-eight and slender, 34Bs if my judgement was any good: yeah, she was the total package. I sure was glad that her soon to be ex-husband was dumb enough to dump her, callous as that might seem to anyone I said such words to.

"So, how long before your divorce is final?" I said.

She slumped in her seat. I could see I'd stung her. "A couple of months more," she said. I nodded.

"Didn't mean to open any wounds," I said. "I know how divorces can be. Even after sixteen years what my woman did to me still rankles. I'll likely never really get over it totally."

"No, that's all right," she said. "It does hurt. I mean you give your heart to someone and then discover that it meant nothing to him, or her in your case, I guess."

"Exactly. Exactly!

"Ann, I'd like to say that I sure am glad I met you. If I get out of line or anything just slap me around. I'll take my punishment, apologize, and ask you to do it again. Okay?" I said. She smirked.

"You got it bub. So since we're sharing our personal marital catastrophes, how about yours?" she said.

I gave her a look that she misinterpreted.

"I'm sorry, if you'd rather not talk about it, it's okay," she said.

"No, no," I said. "I just can't believe you don't already know."

"Huh?" she said. "How would I know? I'm missing something here aren't I."

"No, it's just that your sister knows, so… " I said.

"Denise? My sister Denise knows?" she said.

"Yes, she works for the guy. Rodney Pollard is the man in the middle and Claire Pollard is my ex-wife," I said. She suddenly became semi-catatonic. I waited for her to come back to me.

"The people whose house we were at last week?" she said.

"Yes, and their child is actually my daughter, something I didn't know till she was six years-old," I said. "So, you can see, I really am in the know about how it feels to be dumped on. There's more, but all of that can wait for another time."

"No, no, let me get this straight. She divorced you to marry Mister Pollard. You saved their lives. You lost your legs doing it. And, your daughter lives with them. Do you have joint custody, I mean…?"

"All correct, but no, I do not have any custodial rights, legal ones, at all. They do allow me to see her any time I want though, I mean to be fair," I said.

"Wow, you must have been hurting real bad all of this time, I mean emotionally, and you still get along with them? And you say there's even more to this story?" she said.

"Yes and yes, sort of," I said. "The rest of the story is biggest the reason I still hurt so bad even after all of this time." She folded her hands in front of her and waited clearly spellbound for the final chapter of the story. She really wasn't brooking me dodging the issue.

"Claire and I were married nineteen years ago, actually twenty now. After we got back from our honeymoon, to make a short story even shorter, she immediately began doing my then best friend. We had, he and I, been tight since the second grade. The cheating went on for three years before I discovered them doing each other in my house and talking smack about me.

"The two of them tried to apologize and get me to agree to an open marriage of sorts: I'd get to remain her loving husband and they'd continue to do each other once or twice a month. Claimed they saw us, the three of us, as a single nuclear family and that it made sense for us to continue on as before. Her as a hot wife and me as her willing cuckold. I took exception to their proposed arrangement, so she divorced me and married him. But there was a fly in the ointment unknown to all of us; well, that's what they later assured me was the case.

"The last night we were together, Claire and I, I mean the last night we did the deed together, I'd gotten her pregers. It was six more years before any of us, again, according to them, knew the baby was mine. A quirk of fate occurred when the baby's doctor discovered that Rodney could not have been the father: he was the wrong blood type. But, oh joy, I was the right blood type. So anyway that's pretty much the whole story," I said.

"Sweet fucking Jesus!" she said.

"Yeah, all of that," I said.

"I take it that the only reason you allow yourself to be around them is because of the child," she said."

"More or less. To tell you the truth I really don't know why I'm still around them. I mean Rebecca yes, but even there, I discovered a while back that she considers me kind of a bother and in the way. She likes me well enough, and I suppose she's appropriately grateful that I saved her life, but the truth is I'm not much more than a distant uncle as far as she's concerned. So is that enough reason to be around them? Hell I don't know. You tell me," I said.

CHAPTER 19:

"I found out today that he's dating Denise's sister," said Rodney. "Denise told me. Cross your fingers."

"Really! Thank God," said Claire. "Oh and consider them crossed!"

"Yes, for damn sure," he said.

"Serious?" she said.

"Who knows? Probably too soon. But, Denise says that they went our four days in a row last week, so… " he said, leaving his words hanging in the air.

"Oh man, maybe we caught a lucky break. She is pretty, very pretty. And, they do have you know what in common," she said.

"Yeah, they're both heroes who lost body parts becoming one," he said.

"Yes, our hero got his legs cut off saving us. Kind of gives us bragging rights don't yuh think!" she said.

"I guess. But all I can think of is how bad it would be if she eventually shines him on. I mean like Nadine did. It's looking good right now, but as nervous as he doubtless is, I'm even more nervous!" said Rodney.

"Yes, I see what you mean," she said. "I just crossed my toes too."

"Good idea, I'll join you," he said, and he wasn't smiling.

"On another score, Rebecca asked me about him yesterday," she said. "I think she misses him at least on some level. He doesn't call or ask to visit or email her or anything. He answers her calls when she makes them and that has happened twice since the barbecue last month. But he makes no such moves on his own. I think she is beginning to realize just how hurt he was that time he heard her talking to Jill."

"I don't know. He's her daddy. He knows teenagers say and do dumb things. I can't believe he's holding on to those kinds of bad feelings this long," he said.

She shook her head. "Maybe not, but I'm mildly concerned that he might be. His feelings are still, even after all this time, so delicate so raw. I mean you know," she said. Just then there was a commotion at the front door.

"You mean since the divorce," he said.

"Yes, since the divorce. Him losing his legs to save us just kind of compounded everything. But now with this Ann woman, maybe…"

"Yes, well that is the hope," he said.

******

Date number nine was at the Crossroads. I'd set up camp at the Randall Arms, my old stomping grounds. I'd made the move back to the Valley because and only because of my new relationship with Ann.

Until this night, the only ones who knew about my new old address were the Traynors; they'd seen me at church and we'd talked. They were more than supportive of my relationship with my new woman.

At any rate the two of us awaited my buds, Sammy and Henry. I was feeling good. Nothing like a woman to make a guy's day. I hadn't even thought about Claire in any meaningful way in days; that had to be a positive for sure.

"Here they are," I said, as Sam and Henry sidled up to us. "Have a seat guys." They sat, and I slid an inch or two closer to Ann.

"Sam, Henry, this is Ann Rogers the prettiest girl in the place," I said. The two men hey-hey'd me for the next couple of minutes.

Our conversation and drinking and laughing and nonsense went on for an hour plus.

"Anyway, you two met at the Pollard's place?" said Sammy. "That is one heckuva coincidence for sure."

"Yes it was," I said. "I mean go figure." He gave me a look that I could not figure out.

"Sam?" I said.

"Nothing," he said. "Just a helluva a coincidence, like I said." I nodded. But, now I was thinking and my thoughts weren't good thoughts. I put them out of my head for the time being.

The four of us partied for some time. Colleen joined us near the end, around 11:00pm: she'd had shift duty at the hospital or she would have been with us earlier.

The night ended and the van delivered us to her place first. We were in the back seat. As the vehicle came to a stop, I got the sweetest kiss I'd ever gotten or so it seemed to me.

"That was something," I said. I leaned into her, and I gave her one back. It had a lot of passion in it too a lot of stored up passion.

"And so was that," she said. I smiled a smile I hadn't smiled in forever.

Back at my place, I mulled over what Sammy had sort of suggested while we were at the Crossroads. Could Ann have been a set up by Claire or more likely Rodney to get me a woman? And what if one or the other of them had set me up? It was a hell of a coincidence, but Ann had said, or at least implied, that Rodney did not know of her injuries prior to meeting her for the first time at the barbecue. And, how should I react if it had been a set up? I had no intention of breaking off whatever it was that I had with Ann. Oh no, I'd actually come to the realization that I needed her.

But what might be real bad: what if Ann had been influenced in doing this, being with me, to get me to feel human again but had every intention of dumping me down the line. I couldn't believe that the two cheaters would stoop that low, but then again, they'd stooped way lower than that more than once. Oh yeah, they were capable of a stunt like that. But, with all that had happened in recent years the true fact was that I doubted that they would go that far this late in the game. I did, however, think it more than plausible that one or the other or both of them might have set it up for me to meet with her that was a very large possibility. I'd be finding out as soon as I could.

******

"I took a flyer yesterday and stopped by the Salvation Army office," said Claire.

"Oh," he said.

"Yes, I asked if they'd heard from Jim in the last few weeks. I mean, apart from hearing that Jim and the new girl, Ann, were dating we haven't heard anything from or about him per se," she said.

"Okay?" he said.

"He's moved back into town for sure. I know you thought that he might because it would be closer for him to be with his new woman if that's what she is," she said. "And, well, he has."

The man smiled. "I've avoided calling him knowing how little he wants to be around us, but I will now. Maybe we can even go out with them or something. You know kind of support him, them."

"Yes," she said, "that's a good idea."

******

"I like your place," I said. "I see you've made some effort to make it more easily accessible to folks like us."

"Well yeah," said Ann, "kind of a logical thing to do dontcha think."

"Yeah for sure. I've done it too, but not as much as you. I mean I'm renting at the Randall Arms. Not allowed to do all that much there, the rules you know," I said. He'd toured the three bedroom ranch style and now they were seated together on the couch in the front room. There was a large screen TV across from them but it wasn't on. Television was not the order of the day, evening.

I had my afghan across my lap. Yeah I was still self-conscious about my missing legs. Well, my stumps didn't look good and that was the long and the short of it, no pun intended.

She'd dimmed the lights, had one of those dimmer switches that some people have in their homes. If I ever got my own place I made a mental note to have one of those installed too.

I was nervous and she must've realized it: she took the lead. By lead, I mean she leaned in and kissed me.

"Wow! Man-oh-man!" I said, really more like whispered.

"Been a little while since I've kissed a man in a darkened room, actually a long while," she said.

"Trust me as far as that's concerned, I figure I've got the bragging rights," I said. "I'm quite sure it's been a lot longer for me since I've tasted a woman's lips. Oh, and if you had any doubts about it, yours are flat wonderful!" She smirked.

"Well, thank you for that," she said. "Dare I ask, how long has it been for you?"

"About eight years," I said. And, until tonight I had no hope of ever getting another romantic kiss again. My legs…"

"Hmm, yes they are a draw back. I do know something about that. It's been almost a year since my husband dumped me," she said. I nodded.

"Do you miss the guy, what's his name?" I said. She gave me a curious look.

"Hmm, his name is Carl, Carl rogers. And no, not since I realized what a bum he was. When a man treats his woman the way he treated me, well, he loses a lot of his allure if you know what I mean," she said. I nodded.

"I know exactly what you mean. But for me the hurt has never really faded. Too many elements to the betrayals to forgive and forget," I said.

"I understand," she says. "In my case I just made the decision to never speak to the asshole again and get on with my life."

"I've tried to do that, but the bunch of them keep bringing me back to heel. And, there is the fact of my daughter, as you've pointed out," I said.

"Yes, your situation is different for sure," she said.

"Yes, yes it is," I said.

"Anyway, maybe we should get down to business, whaddya think?" she said. I smiled what I was sure was a truly a winsome smile at her words.

"I think you've got a seriously good idea there," I said. "Oh yeah!"

I leaned in once again and kissed her. It was such an animalistic thing to do. And, I felt like an animal, a tiger in search of a tigress, and she was it!

She was wearing a long sleeved lavender dress that fell below her knee. My hand was resting on that knee and she didn't object. It, my hand, began to slowly inch its way up her thigh. I was almost fainting from the intoxication of the smell of her. She tasted like juicy-fruit when I kissed her and smelled like jasmine in spring time when I nuzzled her neck.

The two of us were sure as heck missing a lot of flesh and bone, but at that moment it didn't make a darn bit of difference. My hand paused not two inches from her pussy and massaged, gently massaged, the flesh near it. She was actually panting and dribbling spit from the side of her mouth which I mopped up with my tongue. Our faces smelled acidic from all of our kissing and sucking and licking.

I pressed my luck, I pushed her panties to the side and cupped her labia, and the feeling I got was so personal so wonderful so almost a new thing that I could have died at that moment and had no regrets. But, I didn't die and I pushed a finger as deep as I could inside of her. She shivered a little but her eyes were closed and her arm dangled motionless at her right side. I pulled my finger out and sucked her woman juice from it.

Her eyes opened and she leaned in and kissed me. Her hand wandered down to the front of my pants and squeezed my steel hard manhood.

"I see your little man is ready for me," she whispered.

"Oh my yes," I said. She unbuckled my pants and pulled my zipper down. The one thing I didn't want was to take my abbreviated pants completely off. I wanted her to pull them down but not off. She seemed to get it and did exactly as I hoped she would: down but only almost off. She played with my sex for a few moments and then leaning down she took me in her mouth. My God the woman was a true expert at driving a man totally over the top!

I couldn't hold back, but a few minutes of her sucking my cock and squeezing my balls and I came, and I mean I really came! I collapsed backwards into a semi-coma on the couch.

"You're not even done, buster," she said. I knew what she meant and I pulled myself together and, rolling over on my belly on the couch, I pulled her panties completely off and went at her pussy with my mouth in a display of desperation that could not have had all that many equals, oh no, and that for a flat fact. She laid herself back on the seven foot couch and spread for me. I wriggled my way up her body and pressed home my cock as best I could. She was tight but she was also slick from my sucking on her treasure. I soon found out that I could indeed fuck a woman no legs or not. I was pounding into her as I never had Claire even in our salad days, well, what I thought had been our salad days.

I discovered several things during the next two hours. One, I could fuck my woman, and that's how I was seeing her at that moment. Two, Missionary was pretty much it for me. We could do cowgirl and we did, but doggy was too much of a challenge for me at my present skill level.

We lay semi-comatose after what for me, and I think for her as well, was pretty much a sexual marathon.

"Okay for you?" she said.

"Is that a serious question?" I said.

"It was good for me too and necessary actually," she said.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Necessary is the term I would use."

******

After my resurrection from the depths of angst and despair, I had an overwhelming desire to share my good feelings. I called my buds. We'd be meeting at the Crossroads, where else.

I was sipping on two fingers of Gentleman Jack waiting for my buds o arrive. I'd gotten to like that particular splash of amber the best.

I was near the bottom of my first round when I saw them enter. They saw me; they joined me.

"Well, you sounded happy," said Sammy, coming up to me.

"Yeah, positively ebullient," said Henry, sidling up a nano second after Sam.

"I'm sure I did," I said. "It'd official; I have a girlfriend."

"Well congrats and all of that," said Henry.

"Yeah," said Sammy. "So tell."

"It's one of those things where a guy's got a lot to tell but can't because the details are kinda like, delicate, if you know what I mean," I said. The two friends looked at each other.

"Okay, but it's time to be indelicate," said Sammy.

"Well, if you insist," I said. "Ann and I are a couple as I just told you. Last night we got it on and it was good, I mean really really good!"

"Okay, now's the part where you tell us to forget getting any of the details," said Henry.

"Like I was about to say boys, forget about getting any of the details," I said, smirking.

"Hmm, well what else. I mean are you going to move in together? Thinking maybe of doing the big thing? What?" said Sammy.

"Haven't gotten that far into any planning but it is a very large possibility if it's left up to me," I said. "As for us moving in together any time soon that hasn't come up yet either."

"Yeah, well don't forget to send us an invitation," said Sammy.

"Yeah, like I'd forget to do that," I said. The laughter was good: it gave me a good feeling.

******

For the second time in recent times his secretary announced an unscheduled visitor, and it was the same as the last unscheduled visitor.

"Yes, yes, send him in," said Rodney Pollard.

The man rose from behind his desk to greet his visitor. "Sammy, good to see you; what brings you to my throne room today?" said Rodney.

"Good to see you too," said Sam.

"So, friend, what've you got?" said Rodney.

"I know you know that Jim and Ann are dating, right?" said Sammy.

"Yes, I've heard that, her sister is my secretary," said Rod.

"Oh, really?" said Sam.

"Yes."

"Well, the night before last they made love and Henry and I visited with him at the Crossroads last night. He's ecstatic! He's hoping to maybe take their relationship to the next level," said Sam.

"The next level?" said Rod.

"Yes, the married level," said Sam. His host gave him a look the major element of which was disbelief!

"Really," said Rod.

"Yes, and well, I know you and Claire have an interest in seeing him be happy, so I thought you might want to know," said Sam.

"Sam you are absolutely right, and thank you for the heads up. I'll be talking to Claire about this tonight," he said. "I introduced him so I have bragging rights. But, oh man, I didn't dare hope for news this 'maybe' good!"

"Yes well, I completely agree; this man needs a woman; hell, all of us guys do, but him especially," said Sammy.

******

"Yes, that's what he said," said Rodney. "Our guy may finally have someone to hold onto and a path out of his misery."

"Oh my," said Claire, "if only it does truly work out. It won't exonerate you and me; but at least we won't have to spend half of our waking hours feeling guilty about destroying him."

"It sure was a piece of good luck Denise asking to bring her sister to our impromptu barbecue," she said.

"Uh-yes it was," he said. She gave him a look.

"Rodney?" she said.

"What?" he said.

"Rodney is there something you're not telling me?" she said, suspicion fairly dripping in her tone of voice.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Rodney, did you set our man up? I mean did you set him up with Ann Rogers?" she said. He looked away.

"You did didn't you? Damn it, Rod, you were supposed to keep me in the loop about any of that kind of thing. I did you!" she said.

"Claire, we've tried so hard on so many levels. I just didn't want you to be part of another failed idea. If it worked out good, if not, well then not," he said.

"Well, how do you like them apples," she said, more to herself than to him.

"Well it's working out, maybe," he said. "It does look good according to Sammy."

"And thank God for that good man. If he ever needs any help or if there is anything we can ever do for him and Colleen, we gotta do it.

"Question, does Denise know you set her sister up?" she said.

"No, she just considers it a lucky break. I don't think Ann is keeping her up to date either. At least she's not said anything to me about knowing anything other than they're dating, not about you know what," he said. "And yes as to helping out Sammy and Colleen if the opportunity presents itself."

"Hmm, well they don't live together. I talked to Denise and Ann both at the barbecue. They're close but not around each other all that much was the way I got it," said Claire. "So maybe it's not all that much of a mystery that Denise isn't in the know about everything."

"Yes, I figure that that's about the size of it," he said.

"So do we want to get more involved than we obviously are at this point?" she said.

"No, I don't think so. And, I should add, that Ann doesn't know about my minimal involvement either. And bear in mind my involvement has been purely passive. I didn't exactly set them up. Not overtly. All I really did was get them together in the same place at the same time to see what might happen. I didn't even think about them getting to where they might actually be at the moment; that's just frosting on the cake as the saying goes," he said. "I was just hoping he'd find in her a woman he could talk to and maybe be able to empathize with each other's situations." She nodded.

"Okay, so we don't do anything except stay the heck out of the way for now, right?" she said.

"Yes, exactly," he said.

******

"Father has a girlfriend!" said Rebecca.

"Yes, and we are all, all of us Pollards, staying the heck out of it. If your father brings her into the conversation, then fine; then we're in. If not then not," said Claire. Her daughter snorted.

"It's not like we get a lot of opportunities to talk to him," said Rebecca. "I know some of that is my fault, but I never, never meant to cause him pain, honest."

"I know, dear, none of us want to cause him pain. But people, including us, are often careless and thoughtless and cause hurt especially to the ones who are most vulnerable and that's just the way life is, the way people are," said Claire.

"Mom, can I ask, how did you find out that Missus Rogers was his girlfriend," said Rebecca.

"One of his friends actually came to us and told us. But let me be clear, we really don't know for sure if they are boyfriend-girlfriend just that at the moment it looks like it," said Claire. Her daughter nodded.

"Are we going to be seeing him or them soon, mom?" she said.

"Not sure, maybe. Your dad is working on it. So maybe, but just how soon is the question," said Claire.

"Okay, mom, thanks for telling me the news. I sure hope that it's true. Even as young as I am I know that all of us need a significant other. You've got dad. Oh, and I've got a boyfriend," said Rebecca kind of softly.

"Pardon me!" said Claire. "And just who is this young man you're talking about in that tone of voice?"

"His name is Gerald, Gerald McCready," said Rebecca. "He's my age. We have classes together at school. He's a gentleman, mom. Gerald's a good guy. You've met, a long time ago." She was pleading now. Knowing how protective her parents were it seemed her best hope of gaining their approval.

"Your father is going to want to meet him, and for that matter so am I," said Claire. "You say I've met him before, but I don't remember him so…"

"Mom!" whined her daughter.

"What, you don't want us to meet this fine young man of yours," said Claire.

"No, I mean of course I do. But do you have to be so negative?" said Rebecca.

"I'm not being negative. I'm just withholding judgement until I meet the young man-again. Is that so hard for you to understand?" said her mother.

"No, I guess not," said Rebecca. "Uh-mom?"

"What Rebecca?" said Claire.

******

My buds and I had had a pretty good night of celebrating. Well, it was celebrating for me. Annie Rogers was going to be my girl if I had to kidnap her and carry her off into the jungle, and yes with no legs to do so does make that more of a figure of speech than an actual threat, but it's the way I felt.

There had to be a god. No other possibility exists that could explain my good luck at finding a woman so pretty and willing to be with me. Even if it didn't last, our relationship, at the least it gave me some hope that I wasn't a complete loser when it came to women.

And now I had another date with my personal Venus. I am going to be finding out just what her interest might be and how far she would be interested in taking whatever our relationship was. Yeah it was still kinda soon, but I really couldn't wait. I needed to know what I was letting myself in for. Oh yeah.

CHAPTER 20:

The Crossroads had become our place of choice in doing the casual thing as opposed to the formal thing. We still did the fancy dinner at the fancy bistro. We still liked those kinds of things too. But most of the time when we met, or got together with friends, we met at the C. The company was good, the bartenders professional, and the mood of the place suited us. We were here again.

Having been deposited by the cab, van, we had our usual table near the back and far enough from the disco guy to hear ourselves talk.

"Glad you were free tonight," I said, unnecessarily.

"Me too, but the reality is that I am free almost any time," she said. "I mean apart from you I don't have a lot of people calling to ask me out or to join the group as one might be inclined to say."

"Yeah, well, me either," I said. "I just feel lucky as hell that we met. That we did it at my ex-best friend's place is some kind of coincidence. You said that night that your sister had told you he was interviewing you for a job or words to that effect. You heard anything about that yet?"

"No, not yet. Denise told me that he is working on it. She said I could have an office job right off, but that the one open at his place was kind of low on the pay and benefit scale, so he was looking to get me a better deal."

"It's been almost two months. Your sister give you any time line on that?" I said.

"Hmm, yes, maybe. There's a company that needs a clerk and that he's kind of in tight with that might hire me. It'll be $30K annual if I get it plus the usual benefits. That plus my military disability will take care of me pretty good," she said.

"Good, sounds good," I said. "Wish I could do as well. I'm getting by on maybe twenty grand at the moment. But, I'm looking for something I can do as well, you know like you."

"For sure," she said.

"You know, I know you said that the reason for having you and your sister come to their house that day was to kind of feel you out about a job, but still, it seems almost too coincidental you and I meeting up like that.

"Oh and don't misunderstand me. I'm grateful as hell to my lucky stars that it worked out, but knowing my ex-best friend like I do, I still wonder if he might not have had a dual purpose in mind. Know what I mean?" I said.

"I guess I do. But, I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth," she said.

"You see meeting me as a gift then?" I said.

"I do, Jim, I do," she said.

"Ann, I'm gonna go out on a limb here. If I'm out of line, just slap the hell outta me. Okay?" I said.

"Okay," she said, suspicion written all over her face.

"Ann, I've fallen for you," I said. I was shaking in my boots, well, figuratively speaking.

She stared at me. "Jim… " she started and stopped. I had a bad feeling.

"Never mind. I can see… " I started.

"No! I have the same kinds of feelings for you. But… " she said.

"Okay, but 'but'?" I said.

"Are you sure, Jim? I know or think I know that you still have feelings for you ex. I am not gonna be good as a fill in woman for you. The man that gets me, even if any man ever even could want me the way that I am, well, he has to be all in on me. I'm not going to go through again what I went through with the last so called love of my life," she said.

I sighed, and it was a sigh of relief. "Thank God," I said, finally. "Ann, the truth is that since you came into my life whether a set up by my old ex-best friend or not, I have completely lost any interest in my ex-wife. I have rarely even thought of her these last couple of months.

"Oh, I'm still mightily pissed at the bullshit the two of them pulled on me. I'm still real unhappy with all of the put downs and attempts to buy me off with money. And they tried, offered me a lot of money or the means to earn it; but all of that notwithstanding, I'm over them. Ann, I want you and I want you real bad! If you can get by 'my' disability, I swear to you, I'm your guy and I mean forever!"

She came to me and planted her lips on my lips and she tasted oh so sweet. "Okay then," she said. "So what's our next move? Oh, and one of these days, I am gonna slap the hell outta you just to make sure you know your place." She started to laugh no doubt at the mental of me taking my punishment at her hands.

"I'm so glad you asked that, dear heart, I mean about what comes next. Our next move is to move, to move in together," I said. "It would make it so much easier and cheaper than to keep doing as we have been. And, then we start planning the wedding. Oh wait I almost blew it, almost earned my punishment. Ann, will you marry me. Oh, and consider me on my knees begging you to." She snickered.

"Yes, darling man, yes indeed," I said. "Oh, and now you can get up off your knees." We both laughed, uproariously laughed.

The night of sex and cuddling and being together was the best of my life I was certain of it.

******

We did move in together, to her place. She'd gotten her own place of course, that where we'd already spent some time together. That had happened soon after our initial meet up. Her parents had funded her down payment and costs. And it was a house: it was smallish but warm and well adapted for folks like us; she'd seen to that. We did okay financially too as a result of the move. My twenty and her thirty from the military disability thing combined were enough. And, if she got the job she was hoping for, and if somewhere down the line I found me a job to complement hers; well, we'd be doing right fine for sure. No competition for my ex-best friend of course, but pretty damn good all things considered.

There was one thing that kept bugging me. I really wanted a van like the one he'd had custom built: the one with the elevators. Man that would be the cat's meow. But, $200K was way out of my price range and likely always would be.

But, all of that stuff aside, I had some thinking to do. The notion that he had set me up on the one hand really burned my butt. But, on the other hand, his ploy had worked. I had what looked like a way to be happy once again. Did that mean that I was now in debt to him! Not on your life. But, it did lessen my visceral, if more or less dormant, hatred of them and how they'd done me.

Ann had been at pains to convince me that it was time to move on. Had he done something good or useful for me, for us, as she maintained? The short answer was yes. Did it make up for all of the bad stuff? The short answer was no. Did it buy him, and for that matter Claire, some level of tolerance or bode well for some kind of relationship with the two of them? The short answer was yes, but I'd have to be gritting my teeth when granting such a hitherto unlikely scenario.

And then there was Rebecca. She'd grown up to be a truly startlingly beautiful woman, and yes I was proud of her, and of my fatherhood. Did she give a rat's ass about my being proud of her? Doubtful. But, as my Ann was telling me, I would be letting things play out without making too many waves just for the sake of making them. I would be going with the flow and not sweating anything all that much; well, I was under orders.

All of the foregoing said and set in stone I did have one card to play and I intended to play it before even telling Ann that I was going to: I would be going to talk to Claire. I really needed to know whether or not I'd been set up, or Ann had, and then I would actually make up my mind just how much I'd be willing to interact with the pair of them.

******

I pushed the button on the ground floor intercom. I was hoping she was home and willing to see me. Oh, I knew she'd see me if she were home, but 'willingly see me' might be a participial phrase that didn't actually quite fit the moment. Well, we'd see.

"Yes," came the tinny response from the intercom.

"Yes, Claire, it's me. Any chance you'd have time for a little talk?" I said.

"Jimmy? What? I mean of course," she said. I could almost see her frown ten floors up.

"Good, I'll be right up," I said.

"Okay," I'll buzz you in," she said.

I skittered over to the elevator she'd hit the buzzer and it opened just as I got to it. Open, I skittered inside.

The ride up seemed kinda slow, but I did get there. The doors opened and she was there waiting for me.

"Jimmy, good to see you she said. Rod's at work of course, but I'm sure you knew that. And it really is good to see you though a bit of a surprise. But come in, come in," she said, as she led the way across the short hall to the open door of the penthouse.

"Yes, well thank you for seeing me," I said.

"Darn it, Jim, you know damn well that this door is always open to you, always. Okay?" she said.

"Yeah okay, I guess," I said. Then I saw her, Jenna Courtland. I hadn't seen her in forever, but I did know her. She was Claire's best friend from her school days: kind of the counterpoint to my relationship, my past relationship, with Rodney Pollard. I remembered Jenna being a nice person.

I know my face must've shown my embarrassment. "Oh, Claire, I'm sorry. I didn't know, didn't think. I should've called," I said. I really was sorry. And, I hadn't thought or considered or anything. I'd just come by.

"Jenna, nice to see you. You look good," I said. I was on my skitterboard and it was clear to me that Jenna was feeling a little uncomfortable. Well, I had that effect on people.

"Uh, yes, and it's nice to see you again, James; it's been kind of forever," she said.

"Yes, well that's so I guess," I said.

"Claire, I'll be going. I'm sure James must have important things to discuss," she said.

"No, no," I said. "It's my bad. I can come back later. Really it's no bother."

"Jim, of course it would be a bother for you. And is Jenna right? Do you have things we need to discuss," said Claire.

"Nothing that can't wait till later," I said. I turned to go, but the woman blocked me. "Stay right here, Jimmy. I'll be back in a second. She didn't wait for a response from me. She just walked her friend out and to the elevator across the hall. They were talking but I didn't hear any of it."

******

"Well, I can see you were surprised," said Jenna, as they stood talking in front of the elevator. "Does he just show up like that often?"

"No, it's the first time actually. I think you were right. He must have something fairly important to say for him to just drop in like that," said Claire, "and yes, I need to hear him out. Anyway, we'll talk."

"Sure bet," said Jenna. "Anyway, you better get back in there, or he'll be thinking we're conspiring or something given everything you've told me," she said. Claire keyed the elevator's code and Jenna Courtland was gone. She rejoined her ex-husband.

She was back in less than a two minutes. I felt embarrassed and a little bit set back in my goal of getting some answers. But, I did want those answers and I wanted them now. Ann and I needed to know what was what. Well, I considered that we did.

"So," she said. "Can I get you something to drink, anything?" said Claire.

"Uh, maybe a cup of coffee if you have any made. I don't want to be a bother. And, I really am sorry about interrupting you and Jenna like that. I should've called first. If I ever need to come by again I do promise to call first. I know you all have lives and well, I don't want to be a bother."

"Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy you need to get it in your head that you coming by is never going to be a bother. I am very happy to see you today, surprised, yes, and I would appreciate a call beforehand of course, anybody would, but it is a very small thing any way you cut it. I mean you coming by on the spur of the moment," she said. "So, anyway…?"

"The coffee?" I said.

"Oh yes. Sorry. I wasn't thinking. Let's restart this little meet up," she said. She turned and headed into the kitchen. She was gone no more than a minute.

"Okay," she said, returning and setting the two cups of black coffee on the coffee table in front of the couch. I was still on my skitterboard.

"Yes, well, I did have a reason for coming by," I said. "I'm sure you know that Ann and I are getting on fairly well, good actually. But, I have some questions relating to that happy circumstance if you don't mind."

"Uh-mind? Of course not. I mean if I can help in some way. Anyway at all, just ask away," she said.

"Okay, good," I said. "Claire I need to know. I mean I really need to know the truth. Was my meeting Ann a set up by you or by Rodney? And if it was Rodney, which I see as more likely since her sister works for him, did you know about it, the set up ahead of time. I mean you must've if it was a set up." She sagged back in the seat she'd assumed on the couch. I was sitting on my skitterboard a few feet from her. I would have joined her on the couch, but I hadn't been invited to do so.

She stared at me almost accusing me, or so I thought. "Jim, the short answer is no. I was not privy to any matchmaking effort by my husband, nor had I entertained any such in the case of Ann Rogers. But… " she said.

"Claire?" I said.

"But, I did find out later that my husband had indeed come to the conclusion, without any input from me, that bringing the two of you together might be a useful thing for all concerned. I became suspicious of things a few days ago, as a matter of fact, and asked him outright if he had done so. He told me that he had, sort of," said Claire.

"Sort of?" I said.

"Yes well, Denise had mentioned to him that her sister was in a blue funk not being able to find a job, and I guess Rod decided to help her out by interviewing her, Ann. Then, her sister, Denise, informed him about Ann's injuries and I guess at that point Rod decided to try and go for two birds with one stone.

"Jim, don't be looking a gift horse in the mouth. If the meet up is working out for you then good, if not; well, then at the least Rod's heart was in the right place. Can you accept that?" she said. I was nodding.

"That I don't like being set up is a given, but this once I am inclined to not take this latest example of interference into my private life to heart. But, he and I will be talking. I do not want you two to by any means to begin to think that what you're doing is okay by me because it isn't. I need to do for myself.

"But, as I said earlier, Ann and I are getting along so no harm done I guess. Just no more, Claire, no more. Okay?' I said. She nodded.

"Okay, Jim, okay. I promise and I will pass along what you've said today to my husband," she said. "But, Jimmy, I do want to say that things would be a whole lot easier on everybody if you would think about softening your thinking about things and relationships and all of it. Rod and I adore you and owe you big time. We'd like to do right by you and make amends to a least some small degree if you would only allow."

"Yeah, well please just let me be my own man and we'll get along. Please," I said.

******

"So they did set us up to meet," said Ann.

"No, not they, just Rod. According to Claire he did it without her knowledge and input," I said.

"And you believe her?' said Ann.

"Yes, she wasn't lying. Not this time. Claire is more than capable of bad behavior but lying is not in that mix. She's always been honest no matter how hurtful it is to anyone concerned including herself," I said. The woman across from me nodded.

"Okay, so that's it then," she said.

"Yeah, I guess it is," he said. "Well, almost at any rate. I told her that I was going to let this last invasion of privacy slide, but that I didn't want there to be any more of it. She said she understood and would honor my wishes from now on. I know she'll relay the message to the rich guy. That said, at some point, and soon, I will be talking to him too in order to reinforce what I told her. But, not tonight."

"Okay, and tonight?" I said.

"Well tonight I, we, have other fish to fry. I mean if you'd be into it," I said. Her smile was a mile wide.

"I think I could be tempted," she said.

"How about right here?" I said. We were in the front room. The carpet was thick and the throw pillows on the couch would do for the necessary props for our games.

"Why I think right here would be fine," she said. She went to the wall near the front door jamb and dimmed the lights. I sure did like that dimmer switch. Yes, it was a very useful little device.

Coming back to me, she lowered herself to the carpet and lay down on her back. She rolled onto her side and looked over at me. "Well?" she said.

I rolled off my skitterboard and lay next to her. I reached for her and pulled her close. I needed to kiss her, to kiss her a lot. I liked kissing especially kissing her. We kissed and felt each other up for some minutes, long minutes. Man, she tasted good. And her breasts! What a woman!

I lifted her dress and made to pull her panties down and off of her. She raised a little making it easy for me.

She shuddered as I moved down her body and lapped at her pussy. The smell of her was absolutely intoxicating; the taste of her was oh so female. At that moment, strangely, I couldn't help comparing her to my ex-wife. Ann did not suffer by comparison.

Maybe it was wrong thinking on my part, but I was wishing-vainly I knew-that I would never have to hear or see either of the cheaters again, I didn't need them, not anymore, really not ever, not since the divorce at any rate.

I crawled up her body and lay on top of her controlling the roll of my body mainly with my arms and especially my elbows. I entered her easily. I began screwing her slowly, very deliberately. I wanted it to last. We'd had sex a number of times since we'd begun dating, but somehow this was a different night and different feeling. I couldn't explain it but it was a watershed for me. Yes it was.

Soon I was humping her like the horny sonovabitch that I was. Oh yeah! God I needed this woman; I needed her bad. The good news? She needed me too. Wasn't that the way it was supposed to be between a man and a woman? Yes it was. It certainly was.

I stiffened and unloaded a sea of cum inside of her. She looked shocked. "Oh my!" she screamed. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Oh my Godddddd!"

I rolled off to her right. I was gasping. And so was she.

"I came," she said. "It has been so long" I frowned at her words.

We'd made it no less than a dozen times since we'd been doing it. And apparently this was the first time I'd gotten her off.

"Ann?" I said. She looked over at me. She knew what I was thinking, she instinctively knew.

"Don't worry about it, stud. It's hard for a man to get a woman off with his dick and you just got done doing it. You'll get better at it. I'm gonna make sure of that,' she said.

"Okay," I said. "I'm yours to command."

"I know," she said.

******

Ann did not have a car, but she was saving up to get one. That was going to be a boon for the both of us. I think more me than her even, but that particular point might have been arguable. At any rate we didn't have the vehicle yet, so once again the cab-van delivered me to his workplace the Ralston Building, downtown. I was on a mission.

"Yes, I'm here to see Mister Pollard," I said. Having gotten by the security guy at the building's entrance, I rode the elevator to the ninth floor. The receptionist smiled and told me to go right in. I looked her askance. He didn't know I was coming, and she made no move to announce my presence.

"Really?" I said.

"Mister Pollard said you were to be considered family and to be waved in anytime you came by without exception, unless he was actually in an important meeting," said Florence McVey, well, she was wearing her name badge this time.

"Oh, okay," I said, and I wheeled myself toward his door and let myself in.

"Jim," he said. I'd surprised him.

"Yes, your receptionist… " I started.

"Yes, I told her you were cool to come in any time, I mean any time," he said, "no waiting for you."

"Well, thanks for that," I said.

"So to what do I owe this little surprise?" he said. He'd come around his desk and had taken a seat opposite me. He was clearly making an effort to not seem quite so imperial in spite of his bucks.

"I know, you must know, that I talked to Claire last week, and I mentioned to her then that I would be talking to you," I said. He looked a little, something.

"Yes, she did say you might be coming by, which by the way is something you need to do more often," he said. "And for the record Rebecca asks about you a lot. She'd like to see you, be around you a lot more, if you'd only cut her a little slack. She's just a kid, Jim, and she needs her dads."

I didn't show my feelings and surprise when he'd said "dads" plural. Well, I don't think I did.

"Yeah, well we'll see," I said. "But, Rodney, Claire outted you about setting me and Ann up to meet. And, your little conspiracy seems to have had a positive result, and I need to thank you for that. That said, Rod, I need to do for myself. Please don't do anything like that again. Please."

"Jim, Claire and I need to do for you. I've said it a dozen times if I've said it once, Jim, we owe you more than we can ever pay. I know you are too damn proud a man to accept anything from anybody that you didn't earn yourself. But Jim, the fact is you did, you have earned it. Whatever we do for you, give to you, any of it, Jim, you've earned it. My God you have. You need to let us pay our dues now. Really man, it's time," he said.

"Rodney… " I started.

"Jim, neither Claire nor I know Ann very well, hell, hardly at all. But, she is your woman now and Claire is mine. It's time to let things normalize. I mean don't you think? You need to build a life with your new woman, and we would like the opportunity to welcome her into our family. And you know exactly what I mean by our family, Jim. I mean all of us: Claire, me, you, Rebecca, and yes even your friends Sammy and Henry. And lest I forget your friends from the street too: Mack and the other guy. Whaddya say man?"

"Roy," I said, "Roy Inness."

"Huh?" he said.

"Roy Inness, he's the other guy from the truck park, the street," I said.

"Yeah, yeah, I met them but not really," he said. "But yeah both of them too. Whaddya say," said Rodney.

"Don't know. I'll let you know. But about what I said?" I said.

"Okay, I understand, but please give what I've said some thought, okay?" he said.

"Yeah sure," I said.

The man had made his case, and I'd let him make it, and he was ahead on points. Well, we'd be seeing. Whatever way my woman wanted me to approach things was going to be the way it would be.

CHAPTER 21:

"So he seemed to soften a little? Is that what you're saying?" said Claire.

"Yes, sort of. He said he'd think about things. And I think he will. He's thinking about her now too not just himself. That little wrinkle might just be what he needs to get him of the dime," said Rodney.

"My God I hope so. It sure as hell is time, no fucking doubt about that," she said.

"You have never been more right," he said.

"So where do we go from here," she said.

"We wait. We can't push the guy. He's just too independent to accept anything from anybody. I did give him food for thought; I'm sure of that. And, I did kinda push him a little bit as it was. I did it nicely, almost pleadingly, but I did kinda push the envelope. Now, the ball's in his court."

"Man!" she said.

"I think if we're just patient. He'll come around. He'll likely come to visit pretty soon, and she'll be with him. When that happens, he and I will adjourn to the patio and I'll make some off hand offer of something small and hope that he'll bite. But in the end it will have to be him that breaks the ice if that's the way to say it," he said.

"Yes, I think you're right. Just let him make the decision. Let things just take their natural course, well, hopefully," she said.

"That's about the size of it. And one other thing," he said. "I let him know that we'd be willing to help his friends out if he'd allow."

"Sammy and Henry?" she said.

"Yes, and those two fellas that hung with him when he was on the street. "Mack and Roy are their names."

"Really? Well, okay if that's what it takes I guess," she said.

"Yes, and that might be the nudge our guy needs to be getting it together," he said.

******

"Rebecca!" I said, answering the door.

"Hi dad," she said, "I hope it's all right. I just decided to come over."

"Well okay, good," I said. "Ann's in the back. I'll have her join us. How long can you stay?"

"No time limit. Whatever works," she said.

"Okay, have a seat and I'll be right back," I said.

I headed out to the patio in the back. My intended was sweeping the damn thing. She was good at moving around on one crutch when doing housework. She was able to manipulate the broom and get the leaves that continually piled up on the patio during this time of year. I smiled at her industriousness as I skittered out to her.

"We've got a visitor," I said. She turned toward me.

"A visitor?" said Ann.

"Yes, Rebecca. I guess she decided that she could just drop by and demonstrate her new found independence, she's got a car of her own now," I said. Ann smiled.

"Yes, a license 'and' a car are a teenager's first taste of independence, and she is eighteen," she said. "Anyway, let's not keep our guest waiting."

We headed back inside to the living room.

"Well, hello, Rebecca," said Ann going to the younger woman and hugging her.

"Yes, for sure, hello," said Becca.

"Your dad says you've got a car," said Ann.

"Yes, a couple of days ago actually," said Becca. "Thought I'd come by. Hoped you'd be in. And, I have some other news too."

"Yes, well that's very nice of you to come by," I said. "News?"

"Yes. Dad, I'm starting college next week. I'm going to be studying business," she said.

"Wow!" I said, with sincerely expressed enthusiasm. "That's great Becca."

"Thanks Dad. Dad you know, now that I have my car I hope you'll call me and I can come get you to visit us at the house too. Would that be all right," she said. "I know that dad and mom would like it. I only have classes Monday and Wednesday."

I knew that she was calling both me and the wife stealer dad, but for some reason or no reason it no longer bother me as much as it used to, well, before there was an Ann.

"Well, I don't know," I said. "I don't want to be putting you out any."

"Dad, it would be no bother and you wouldn't be putting me out. You have to know that," she said.

"Hmm," I said.

Just then Ann returned with a platter loaded up with three iced teas that she was able to handle with just the one arm. She was in pretty good shape given her injuries; well, the Army had done good by her in those respects. She still worked out at the house. She had a set of dumbbells and some other stuff she used to keep up her strength.

"Thanks," I said. "I really was kinda thirsty."

"Me too," said Rebecca.

"Well, good," said Ann. "Hope it's not too sweet." She was addressing Becca.

A period of silence ensued that Ann looked askance at.

"Honey?" she said, speaking to me. Becca was kinda looking away, but not obviously so.

"No, nothing. Becca says she'd be willing to pick us up so we could visit her mom and dad at their house," I said. Becca's head snapped around.

"Dad, I didn't mean… " she started.

"It's okay," I said. "I know you call him dad. I mean you've lived with him your whole life, so I guess it's kinda natural that you call him dad. I understand your situation. Really. I came to the show kinda late. It is what it is."

"Yes, well, that is very nice of you to offer," said Ann. "I think your dad here and I would be grateful for you to pick us up from time to time. I mean if it won't be any trouble for you."

"No, no trouble at all," said Becca. "I want to."

"Okay then," said Ann.

The two of them talked and I smiled a lot and nodded a lot and added an affirmative grunt now and then as the two of them continued on. My woman and I would be talking in the near future, the near future being as soon as my daughter left. My woman was the boss, but I was going to be demanding the right to have input in this particular case, oh yeah!

And then it was a couple of weeks later. Ann told me to get myself dressed up; we were gonna be going visiting.

******

Becca did come to pick us up to deliver us to her house, the Pollard's residence. She was driving the fancy dancy van with the elevator-assists for me. I frowned, but Ann didn't. She saw it as a useful help, and wasn't brooking any negativity from me.

It was Saturday morning, 8:00 Saturday morning. I was riding in the back seat which was also accessible by the elevator. Ann rode shotgun in the front.

"Wow!" said Ann, "this is some car!" I see it has hand controls for the likes of your dad." This was new; it hadn't had those controls before. Good 'ole Rodney was going first cabin to get his program accepted.

"Yes, dad, I mean my mom's husband bought had it fixed up for dad, your husband," said Rebecca. I had to pipe in.

"Becca, Ann and I aren't married. And stop worrying about calling your mom's husband dad. It's okay. Really, I understand. Okay?" I said, and I said it emphatically. "If it gets confusing when I'm around we'll just explain who's meant and that'll be it. Okay?"

"Okay, dad," she said. Ann laughed. I sure did love this woman. I was going to marry her and that as soon as I could. I just needed to be able to buy the rings. We'd been spending most of our money on things that needed to be done at the house since I'd moved in. But I was almost at the point where I could afford them now, the rings. It would only be an engagement diamond and a band, nothing fancy, but I knew she'd be okay with that. I was certain of it. She knew my situation.

Claire met us at the stoop when we arrived. I was on my skitterboard after exiting the car. Taking the elevator up to the tenth floor was a snap and Rodney was waiting for us when we got there.

"Glad you could come visit," he said. "We've got the coffee on, and it's the expensive stuff," he said, laughing.

"Yeah, well, I'd expect nothing less," I said, and I wasn't laughing. "And, I will have a cup of coffee. I need it."

"Have a seat, have a seat," he said, motioning me to power myself up and onto the couch. Ann was already on it waiting for me. I did as directed.

He went to get the coffees.

"So, whaddya think of our daughter and her driving," said Claire addressing me.

"She's doing good," I said.

"For sure," said Ann, and she is real good at using those special controls."

"Yes, I got those special made," said Rodney arriving with the coffees.

"Yeah, wish I could afford something like that," I said.

"You can," he said. "I mean if you want it, you can have it, and you can pay me back over time. I mean if you still insist on being stubborn about stuff."

"I remember you said that it cost you $200,000," I said. "You know I can't afford something like that, Rodney old man."

"You could if you took the job I'd like to offer you, but no pressure. I know you don't want any handouts, even though in point of fact they wouldn't be handouts in any real sense of the word," he said. "I mean either the car or the job."

"Let's change the subject if that's all right with you," I said.

"Fine," he said. He seemed a little exasperated, but he didn't push it and neither did I.

Over the next hour we talked about everything that was going on in our lives. And in the doing so I got me an idea; I was going to be running by my future bride real soon.

And then the bunch of them ganged up on me, and we got ourselves committed to going to the Gray Goose Inn for dinner that very night. It was Becca who actually chose the place. It seems that her tastes ran to the expensive side of things.

******

"Well, it's been a year since he's been with Ann. Think he might finally decide to marry her. Her sister tells me she wants to get married," said Rodney.

"He will. The man's in love, thank God! Now if he'd only lighten up about you and me," said Claire.

"Yeah, well, he has. He, they, maybe don't come over much, but according to Becca who goes there sometimes the rancor is no longer as obvious as it used to be," said Rodney.

"Don't come over much? Rod, they haven't been over in six months. And they've only been here twice since that night at the Gray Goose," said Claire.

"Hmm, yes, and Denise has been kinda of quiet about the two of them too. I asked her about that, and she says that her sister has told her not to talk about them. They want their privacy, and are not into socializing much," said Rod. "She, Denise, did say that they're doing okay financially and all."

"You know, Becca doesn't say much about them either. I'm gonna ask her about that tonight," said Claire. "She apparently has no problem going over there. I know she's gone there any number of times over these last months. I've been kinda lax in asking her about how they're doing and all, but I will tonight." Her husband nodded.

"Yes, I think you should," he said.

******

"Mom, Dad, my bio-dad, has told me that he doesn't want me to talk about him. I mean and after everything…"

"Yes, after what he heard us, all of us, say about him; I understand what you're saying. But, I'm not asking you to tell me anything bad. I'm just concerned about him is all. He does have a girlfriend now and one of these days he's likely to marry her, and when he does…"

"Mom… that's kind of wrong," said Rebecca.

"Huh? What? You mean they've broken up!" said her mother; she looked terrified.

"No, no, no, not that," said Rebecca.

"Okay, then what?" said Claire.

"Mom, dad Jimmy is already married," said Rebecca.

"Huh? What did you say?" said Claire.

"Daddy Jimmy and Ann are married," said Rebecca.

"Oh my," said her mom. "But how did you know? I mean your dad and I didn't know. I mean how…?" said Claire.

"Mom, it was on my nineteenth birthday last month. Dad called me to wish me happy birthday. And well, he asked me for a favor. A couple of favors actually," said Rebecca.

"Favors? What favors!" said Claire Pollard.

"Well, he was at the courthouse. Ann's friend who was supposed to be Ann's maid of honor didn't show up. Anyway, he called to wish me happy birthday and then asked me if I would be willing to stand in for the friend. I really didn't have a choice mom, I mean after… " she said.

"Yes, yes, but why haven't you said anything to me or your dad?" said Claire.

"Well, that was the second favor. Dad, I mean dad Jimmy, asked that I not say anything that he wanted to be the one to tell you and dad," said Rebecca. "I said okay, and so…"

"Oh boy," said Claire. "Your dad is going to be upset, but I guess the man has a right to do what he wants, but this…"

"Mom, I wanted to tell you, but dad Jimmy said he wanted to surprise you. There wasn't any big wedding. No one was there but me and Mister Sammy, and Dad of course and Ann; well, and the justice of the peace."

******

"They're what! And Rebecca did what!" Rodney Pollard didn't quite scream.

"They're married, and our daughter was maid of honor and no she didn't tell us anything about it either before or after. She evidently was asked by the man to not tell us. She said he wants to tell us himself which I'm absolutely sure is the truth," said Claire.

"Right, so he could rub our noses in it," he said.

"Yeah, a little revenge is what I think he has in mind," said Claire. "We kept a couple kind of important secrets from him and now he's returned the favor. So what do we do now?"

"Yes, I guess that's so," he said. "And there's not much we can do. We wait for him to make the big announcement and rub our noses in it like I said."

"Maybe a big ass wedding gift?" she said. The man smiled.

"Why yes indeed," he said, suddenly conspiratorily smiling. "Of course! And in front of Ann. He'll have a harder time turning us down if she's there to witness things. Oh my yes, I like the way you think, Claire."

His wife smiled broadly "Maybe this is the true turning point," she said.

******

I was on my skitterboard watering the potted plants on the porch when the two vehicles pulled up in front of the house. What was strange was that my ex-best friend got out of one of the vehicles and my ex-wife got out of the other. I watched as they made their way up to the porch.

"Well," I said, "this is a surprise."

"Thought we'd drop by and congratulate the happy groom and hopefully his happy bride," said Claire, not even waiting for the echo of my greeting to die out before getting to the point of their visit.

"Rebecca?" I said. The two of them nodded simultaneously. I nodded back at them.

"I was kind of hoping that she could at least do me the one favor I ever asked of her. I guess that was too much to hope for," I said, and yes I was being snide.

"Don't be too hard on your daughter," said Claire. "It just came out when I mentioned that you and Ann might be tying the knot one day and wouldn't it be nice 'if' and all of that."

"Yes, and just when were you planning to let us in on the happy news," said Rodney.

"Soon. We wanted to have our own car and be able to come over without calling you or Rebecca or the cab company to come get us. We've saved enough now, or almost, to get the one we want. Be just another week or so," I said.

"Well, okay, so are you going to ask us in?" said Claire, "and is your better half here if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"Yes, yes, of course come in," I said. "And yes, Ann is in the back tending to the plants on the patio. We kind of split duty on some of these kinds of things if you know what I mean."

"Well, that's nice," said Rodney.

We adjourned into the house. It was the first time the two of them had ever been in it. I could see that they were appraising it. They could clearly see that it was nothing compared to their outrageously expensive digs, but it was clean and comfortable and not by any means something to sneeze at.

"Nice place," said Claire, and no she didn't sound condescending. It was clear to me that the two of them were doing their best to be supportive if that would have been the way to say it.

"Thank you for that. Have a seat," I said, indicating the couch which was our best piece of furniture. "I'll go get Ann." They sat and I skittered out back to get my wife.

I surprised her coming up behind her as I did. "Honey," I said. She jumped.

"Gimminy Cricket! Husband mine. You scared me," said Ann.

"Sorry, honey, but we have guests." I said. She gave me a look.

"The Pollards," I said. "And, they know we're married. Rebecca." She nodded.

"I'm surprised they haven't been here sooner if the truth were known," said Ann. We headed inside.

The greetings went on for a full five minutes. And though I thought some of their remarks a trifle disingenuous, they did say more than once how nice and homey and comfy our digs were. The upshot was that I had to agree with their assessments: I thought they were all of those things too.

And then we were eating way too many tacos put together by my wife with some assistance by my ex-wife: well, she helped stuff them.

"I will say, Jim, you not inviting us to the wedding was a little bad of you," said Rodney.

I didn't hit back with the obvious: that it was kind of bad of him not to invite me into bed with he and my wife while he was doing her for three years behind my back and making me a fucking cuckold. What would have been the point.

"We did it on the spur of the moment. And, since you've had virtually unrestricted influence and control of my daughter for her entire life, I thought it fair that she help out my fiancé in our marriage ceremony. I hope I didn't upset you overmuch," I said, and I was being ever so slightly disingenuous with my words, so I guess we were even for the day.

"No, no," he said. "It's all good, Jim. And Claire and I wish you both the best and would like to say that we will always have your backs, yours and Ann's. I hope you believe me when I say that, Jim; we mean it with all our hearts."

"Okay, sure," I said. Well, I'd gotten the look and the nod from Ann while he was talking.

"There's one other thing, Jim, Ann," he said.

"Mister Pollard?" said Ann. Why she was being so formal with him was a mystery to me. We'd talked about that. But, at any rate, she was.

"Well, we have a wedding gift for you two. And, Jim, please don't do what you usually do and tell me to go to hell. It's actually kind of a used gift, but, not that used. Okay?" he said.

"You don't have to give us anything, Rodney… " I started.

"Jim," said Claire. "While Ann and I were putting together the food. We talked. I kinda went behind your back for this one."

I looked over at my wife. "Ann?" I said.

"It's all good, honey. I said okay to the gift. I mean it is our wedding, marriage. Okay?" she said.

She knew I couldn't deny her anything; hell, when it came to that Claire knew it too. The women ruled us men of that there was no damn doubt or getting around it. I nodded my submission.

"Okay, what's this slightly used gift then?" I said.

"We came in two cars for a reason, Jim, the van is yours. You need it and we need you to accept it. Okay!" he said, with a nod toward the street.

"I… " I started.

"We accept," said Ann, reinforcing what Claire had said but moments before. I gave her a disapproving look, but she was indeed the boss. We'd be accepting the way too expensive for us, gift, the van.

"Okay, if my wife says it's okay; then I guess it is," I said.

Rodney could see I was not real agreeable to something that big. Oh he could afford it for sure, but for me that was never the issue: I didn't want to owe him anything, not after what he'd done to me, let alone what Claire had done to me. Yes, the car would be real useful, maybe the one thing that was most useful to me. That fact made it the one thing I would have rejected outright if it had not been for the new love of my life.

"Wonderful," said my ex-wife.

"Great," said my ex-best friend. "Oh, and we had it washed before we brought it over. It's in primo shape. It and everything in it is yours. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah sure," I said. "Thanks, it's a nice present." My ex-best friend smiled the smile of someone who had just won the marathon; and, I guess in a way he had.

"Rebecca had not accompanied the cheaters on their visit to us. Something about one of her friends having need of her company. We'd find out later that her friend was one Gerald McCready, nineteen and boyfriend of our daughter.

Mister McCready would turn out to be a very nice fellow, and someone who would be around for a long time, oh yeah, a long time.

It was coolish outside but our patio was enclosed with Plexiglas, well, the half nearest the house was, and we adjourned there with our drinks.

Things were pleasant I would have to say. I was actually having fun, that primarily because I had me a woman who was every bit Claire's equal in all ways, her wounds and injuries notwithstanding.

Rodney had cornered me after our third round of drinks. He had one more ploy he intended to lay on me.

"Really glad you accepted our gift to you, Jim, and it, the gift, is little enough. I know it, and Claire for sure knows it. Please," he said.

"Yeah okay," I said. "Ann's good with it so, so am I."

"Yes, and I am so glad you found such a wonderful woman to be yours. But, I have one more request I'd like to throw your way. Would that be all right?" he said. My eyes narrowed. His tone of voice made me uncomfortable.

"Okay," I said, "what?"

"A job, a damn good one. Whaddya say?" he said. I snickered.

"Don't be pushing your luck, Rod, old buddy. When it comes to jobs, I get my own and on my own," I said. He nodded, but I'm sure he expected my response and no more was said.

The rest of the evening was pleasant and then they were gone and we had our place to ourselves once again. I did take the time to repark the van in the driveway. It was then I discovered what the man had meant by everything that was in the van would be mine. The $20,000 wheelchair was in it. Was I pissed off at what I saw as them snookering me? Oh yeah, but apparently my wife was good with it, so I gnashed my teeth, swallowed my pride, and sighed my acceptance of yet another present from the cheaters.

CHAPTER 22:

And then it was nine years later and we were solidly middle aged and on the cusp of seniorhood. I was 54 years old, my Ann was 45 and I guess we were doing good. And yes, she had trained me as to how to please her; and, I can say with some confidence that I had learned and had as well determined to never disappoint my woman no matter what. Yeah, I was in love, serious love. I never argued with her, never. If she said to do it this or that way, whatever it might have been, that is the way it was going to be and there was no discussion. The good news for me was that she made it her business to keep me happy, and, she loved me back. Man, was I a lucky sonovabitch or what!

All of the above having been said, that I'd gotten my wife because of the machinations of Mister Pollard still rankled. Though peace in the Valley reigned, I had never quite gotten over all of the betrayals and bad stuff that the Pollard clan had heaped upon me.

We were not all that communicative with them over these last years though we did see each the other on the big holidays and a few other times since my marriage to Ann. And Ann, though more amenable to having closer relations with the Pollards than was I, never pushed things. She, Ann, had however forged a better relationship with Rebecca than with any of the rest of them and I suppose it has to be said that so did I. We saw her, Rebecca, no less than once a month and sometimes more than that. I think I could claim that she and I did have a somewhat improved father-daughter relationship than had been the case before; but, there was no doubt that I was still in second place in that regard, and that's just the way things were. I was going with the flow.

And, I guess it's necessary to point out here that she had finished college with Magna cum Laude honors. I wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but it was a matter of "honors" so I knew it was good. I was proud of her for that. And, she had gone into business with her dad, her other dad. And, the money I'd gotten from the Marcort settlement, half a million plus the interest accrued over the years had been delivered to her the day of her graduation. We hadn't been there, Ann and I, but we heard about it after the fact. She was enormously impressed and grateful. Claire on the other hand was kind of sour in her approbation. It was her feeling as it had been at the time, that I should've used the money to set myself up since it was clear that none of them needed my help financially speaking. Anyway, my kid was thrilled that meant way more to me than the money ever could have.

******

"Okay, I know you haven't forgotten," she said. "So what are the plans? Don't just be springing them on me. Okay?" She was of course referring to our tenth anniversary which was but a month off.

"Okay, okay," I said. "We're going to be staying in Vegas for the whole week. The boss has given me the green light on taking the time off. Sammy will be covering for me."

I had gotten a job with my old company, Allied, and no not driving; I was now a dispatcher. Henry had been instrumental in that. He was now head of HR and had run interference for me and gotten me back on a year after my marriage to Ann. Hence, I was back to working with my buddies and on my old stomping grounds. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Ann too, had gotten a better job at a company that Rodney had an in with; she was doing even better than me; sell, she had her military DI to add in to the mix.

"That's wonderful, honey," she said. "I can't wait!" I was glad that she was glad. Vegas was a fun place.

"I'm glad you're glad," I said.

"Yes, well, and I've scheduled a dinner for the weekend too," she said.

"A dinner?" I said.

"Yes, you, me, Becca, Sam, Henry, and the Pollards," she said. "And, I also invited the Traynors but they haven't RSVPed me yet. I frowned, but didn't object. The dinner was fine with me but part of the guest list was another matter. I would never really forgive the cheaters for what they'd done to me, long in the past though it all was.

******

"So, you're sticking me behind a desk to cover for your little vacation," said Sammy, but he was smiling.

"Yeah it's our tenth. So you're coming to the party Saturday night?" I said.

"Wouldn't miss it," said Sam. "Sounds like a lot of folks."

"Hmm, yeah maybe ten or so," I said.

"The Pollards?" he said. He saw my look.

"Yeah, they'll be there. Well, they've been invited. I haven't talked to them myself, Ann has, but I haven't," I said.

"Jim, you really do have to let all of the old bad stuff go. It's been fucking forever," said Sam.

I sighed. "Yeah, I know you're right. Ann says the same thing. Hell, I tell myself that too. It's just-I don't know. I just can't seem to quite get over the truth that a wife, my wife, would do something like that to me. And, I am over her, but… well, but not over 'it': her yes, it no. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but it's the way I feel," I said.

He nodded, "I guess I understand, but it's been more than twenty-five years, man. You really should be able to dump that shit by now. Plus, I know they are regretful about what they did. Hell, I think I've talked to them more than you have about it all," said Sammy.

"Yeah, well maybe," I said.

"Do you see them much? You haven't said much about them for quite a while. I was beginning to think you were over it all, but I guess not," he said. I shrugged.

"I'm sorta over it," I said. "But then again, no. I just don't think I ever will be completely over it. I never did anything to them, either of them; hell, I loved them, still do. And, that makes it worse because I know that they don't have the same kinds of feelings or respect for me that I have always had for them. So them doing me the way they did, well…"

My friend nodded. We talked a little bit longer then got our asses back to work. I liked my job, and my way too expensive wheel chair was really useful even though I had only minimal need to do much moving around during the work day. My forty grand annual added to the sixty Ann made, counting her military disability, allowed she and I to do very well. I didn't get any disability anymore because social security didn't allow if I worked. Ann's job, one that the black hat had indeed finally gotten for her was a pretty good one. She was an office assistant at Harcort Industrial: deliverers of oil and gas to wholesalers around the state.

And now we had a party to host. I was determined to make sure my wife was happy with the outcome. I knew for a fact that she'd done her best to set it up.

******

The party was slated to start at 2:00, but Rebecca arrived at noon. She was helping Ann get things ready. I'd already made two runs to the store for last minute items: drinks and freakin' watermelon.

"Everybody'll be here soon, honey, you need to get dressed," she told me. I muttered something that might have been construed as an objection and went to do as I was told.

It was straight up 2:00, and there was already a parade of partiers arriving at the front door. And first in line? The Traynors.

"So, how ae you doing, James?" said Dora.

"Good, Ann and I are doing real good. Got jobs, a house, and each other; hard to beat a parlay like that one," I said.

"For darn sure," she said.

The Captain after initial greetings had marched past me and over to Ann who was, along with Becca, cloistered with Sammy and Henry who'd actually arrived right on the heels of the Traynors. They'd only waved to me as they had also headed for the two female organizers.

Surprise guests, I hadn't known they'd been invited were Mack and Roy from my days on the street. What was also a surprise was the fact that the Pollards had not arrived.

"It's almost 3:30," I said.

"Hmm, yes, and yes I noticed that they haven't arrived," she said.

"Maybe they decided not to come. I mean it is our wedding anniversary, and they were not invited to the wedding which fact I'm sure ruffled their feathers," I said.

"I doubt that. They'll be here, probably bearing gifts," said Ann.

"Hmm," I said.

It was almost 5:00 and I noticed Rebecca on her cell. I didn't have to guess who she was talking to. She was frowning and nodding at the same time. So, I thought, the cheaters weren't coming. Well, there's an upside to everything.

Ann came up to me. "Rebecca called them?" she said.

"I think so. I doubt they'd be coming now," I said. "Too bad, I'll miss them."

"You don't have to be so snide, my husband. They're good people. They made mistakes for sure, big ones, but they've done their penance. If they do come, you need to sit down with them and bury the fucking hatchet. It's time," she said. "I mean forever bury the hatchet."

"Hmm, maybe," I said.

"No maybe about it. I need to have you do it. Okay Jim. I really mean it," she said.

"All right, if it means that much to you," I said.

"It needs to mean that much to both of us," she said. "Jim, we've been married for ten years and I've put up with the bitterness, your bitterness all of this time. The next ten years are going to be sans the bitterness. You hear me!" she said.

"Yes ma'am," I said.

And then they arrived. I wondered at their excuse, what it would be.

******

"I know what you're thinking," said Rodney.

Hah! not even hello. That was my ex-best friend: the best defense was a full court press and a brace of really well thought out fibs!

"And hello to you too, Rodney," I said. "And to you too, Claire." My ex-wife for her part had not uttered a word. Something was going on. I was getting a real hinky feeling.

"Uh-hello, Jim," she said, finally. "And congratulations on your anniversary, yours and Ann's."

"Well, thank you for that. And we're just glad you were able to make it. No explanation necessary, really. Just make yourselves at home. Everybody is kinda everywhere. So…"

"Thank you," said Rodney.

I saw Ann break away from Mack and Roy who had arrived around fourish. I should maybe give a little bit of explanation relating to Mack and Roy's situation. Both of my street buds had been laid off when their plant, a garment manufacturer, shoes actually, went to Mexico. They'd not been able to find work, both likewise having been high school dropouts and had ended up on the street where we'd met. But, as a result of knowing me, Rod had hired them soon after my meeting up with and settling in with Ann. I say Rod had hired them, but in actuality he'd arranged for them to be hired at a high rise he'd been investing in. They got jobs and training for the job which was building maintenance and repair. They made half again what they had at the shoe factory. They loved Rodney.

At any rate, I saw Ann come over to us. "Hello Mister and Missus Pollard," she said, in her friendliest tone. Exchange of greetings consummated she pulled Claire aside. Their demeanors were ultra-serious. I wondered at that.

"So, Rodney, how is everything at your house?" I said.

"Fine, good," he said. There was something in his tone that belied his words.

"Rod…?" I said.

"He deflated. "Not so good. I made a mistake," he said.

"A mistake?" I said.

"And, she caught us," he said. "Earlier today she caught us."

"Oh," I said. "So, are you talking?"

"Not to each other, not yet. She said she wants to talk but later after she has time to think," he said.

"Oh, well I hope it works out for you, for her," I said. This put a whole new slant on things. He'd cheated on her as the two of them had cheated on me. The irony was truly weird.

"It'll kind of depend," he said.

"Huh?" I said. "Depend?"

"Yeah whether or not things work out between us depends on… " he stopped. Whatever he needed to say he didn't want to say.

"On you," he said.

"On me? How could any of that have anything to do with me. Neither Ann nor myself have been around that much, I mean around you," I said.

"No, but Claire wants to talk to you," he said.

"And my wife is talking to her now about talking to me, is that it?" I said.

"I think so, not sure. I know they were on the phone for a while yesterday. I don't know why, not exactly," he said.

"And you're telling me this why. I mean if she's the one that wants to talk to me," I said.

"I'm not sure. I guess I needed to talk to somebody, and well, you're still my best friend in spite of what you think," he said.

"Hmm, am I?" I said.

"Yes, you are," he said. And he said it with finality. "I think I'll get me a drink, okay?" he said, clearly wanting to break it off with me at least for the moment.

"Yeah, sure," I said. I nodded toward the impromptu bar we'd set up on the patio. He headed for it.

I had my back to her and didn't see her stride up to me. I was sitting in my Pollards' supplied gift chair.

"James," she said, announcing herself. "I saw you talking to him. I hope he, we're, not throwing a wet blanket on your tenth anniversary."

"Uh-no, we're fine," I said. "But you and Ann?"

"Good too," she said. "Uh-James, can we talk you and I?" I nodded.

"Sure, I guess," I said.

She looked around, presumably for a place with a little less activity.

"The den," I said. "I don't think anyone's in there at the moment." I nodded down the hall of our little three bedroom hovel one of which rooms had been converted by us into a den.

She nodded back at me. I led her down the hall.

Arrived, I nodded toward the swivel chair in front of the computer set up we'd gotten for ourselves. I of course was in my chair.

She took her seat and was making to study the design of the floor tiles. "Claire?" I said. She didn't look up, but she did start talking.

"Did he tell you?" she said.

"He said you'd caught him, but that was about it, and that for some reason you wanted to talk to me," I said. She nodded.

"Yes, yes I did, do," she said.

"Okay," I said.

"James, I am so sorry for cheating on you all those years ago. I now know how you must've felt. And I am sick at heart over it. More about that than about catching my husband doing that girl today," she said.

"Okay, and I appreciate you saying that," I said, and I did.

"Jim, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me; well, then I will forgive that masher of a husband of mine," she said. "I guess you could say if it's possible for you after everything I did to you then I can see my way clear to forgive my personal asshole too. I mean as far as I know it's just the one time, and yes, I am fully aware that it probably isn't just the one time. But, I can damn sure guarantee you that it will be the last regardless!"

"Okay?" I said.

"So?" she said. "Is it possible to forgive an old whore like me? Can you Jim? I mean really?"

This was a wrinkle I could never, I mean never, in any possible universe have anticipated. I didn't respond, not for a long minute.

"You know, Claire, I actually think I can. I couldn't have before hearing you just now. I mean no way. But now? Yes, I think I can. Claire, I forgive you," I said.

The look of joy my words engendered in her look, her face, her body language would remain with me for a lifetime. I knew that as a great truth! And then she busted out in sobs.

She came to me in my chair and kissed me, sensually, on the mouth. I know my eyes shot open at the shock of it. "Thank you sir. I think you just saved my marriage." She turned and headed out of the room without so much as a by your leave. I knew where she was going anybody would have. Mister Pollard was about to get a second chance. One he sure as hell didn't deserve.

******

The party was in full swing and Rodney, my used to be best friend for life, was in deep, one might almost say profound conversation with my ex-street bud Mack Keys. Mack was fifty and claimed to have discovered the meaning of life. What was good about that was that he didn't proselytize. He was a proud member of the church of "You Figure It Out for Yourself." Nevertheless, Mack was one of those people who others generally took seriously; there was just something about the way he carried himself. He and I had shared many bottles of cheap wine while we were on the street, and I had come to respect the man for his lack of pretention and his willingness to share, especially his wine cache. I came up to them.

Looking around for Claire I didn't see her, not immediately. Then I did. She was in the kitchen just behind the jamb. She was watching the man; I wondered at that. I had thought that she was going to go back to him after our confab, and pin him. But she hadn't, she still might, likely would, but she hadn't quite yet. She saw that I saw her. She smiled, and made to come to us.

Rodney finally saw her and appeared nervous. "Hi, honey," he said. She eye'd him and crooked a finger at him beckoning him to follow her which he did as she led him back down the hall toward the den where she and I had just spent time together.

I saw them disappear behind the door and heard the door shut. "I sure was glad it was him in there with her and not me.

I rejoined my guests. Ann joined me and we toured the place making small talk among the assembled.

The party began to wind down sometime around 11:00. The dynamic duo was still in the den. It was pretty much impossible to ascertain what was going on in there. Did she rip him a new one or did she forgive the cheater for what he'd done. I didn't think she was hypocritical enough to call him on his infidelity, but who knew for sure.

"We were saying our goodbyes to the last of our remaining guests just as the two of them emerged from the den.

Claire led Ann apart from me and the man. It was clear to me that Rodney wanted to say something to me, or, maybe it was Claire who wanted him to talk to me.

"Thanks," he said. "I know you didn't do it to save me. I have to believe that you did it for her."

"Well, you'd be wrong," I said. "I did it for me. She may or may not benefit from my doing it, but I never would have done it just to save her or you either. It was a matter of her making her case, and, for the first time I believed her. That made it possible for me to move on I guess would be the way to say it. And, I guess now I have."

"Well, whatever your motivation you did good as far as I'm concerned. After everything I did to you. I mean taking Claire away from you, raising Rebecca the way I have, and the way I acted after you saved us. Well, I couldn't, wouldn't have blamed you if you'd shoved your middle finger four feet up my ass. It's what I deserve," he said.

"Just let it go, Rodney. And don't ever cheat on her again. I don't want to see her hurt. And, I do wish you both well. But in the end it's going to be a matter of how you treat each other that will determine that I suppose," I said.

"Okay, I will do as you say. If you ever need anything, Jim, there isn't anything I won't do to help you out. Just say the word," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, and I hated saying it.

******

Our anniversary had apparently changed the level of angst, if that were the way to say it, that I had long felt in dealing with the Pollards even including my daughter. And what about my daughter, well, Claire's and mine.

I didn't really have all that much to do with Rebecca. She came over to our house a fair amount, maybe once or twice a month. But for all of that, I never felt that she was actually mine. She was kind of a faux daughter is how I thought of her. Oh, she was grateful that I'd saved the family Pollard right enough. And, she was more than sensitive to the sacrifice I'd made in the doing of it. But that was the thing: she was part of the family Pollard not the family Clausen. That reality had hurt a lot and it still did in spite of the new level of rapprochement between us.

At any rate, would there ever come a time when I could actually see my old bud the way I had in olden times? Doubtful. But then the gods intervened and changed everything. For the better? That question would be answerable but not for a long time.

******

I was at work. It was almost lunch time. I usually ate right at my dispatcher station. I was in my outrageously expensive chair. The trucks were all out on the road. I'd only gotten one call announcing that a delivery would be late: the drivers were required to keep dispatch informed of problems when they were on the road. A truck breakdown was just such a problem, and we'd had one across town. I called the outlet and let them know that the delivery would be late. Then I got another call, a life changing call.

I screamed! Two secretaries nearly fell out of their chairs.

"I need to go!" I said. "I need to go now! My wife! My wife is hurt!" Janie, the boss's secretary, was out of her seat and opening the door for me even before I got to it, and I'd powered my chair to its fastest.

"You need someone to go with you, James?" she said. My tears were already running down my cheeks. I nodded." Go ahead on to your car. I'll let the boss know and be right with you. I'll ride with you."

She was back and running alongside me before I even got to the car.

I drove, Janie was in shotgun.

We arrived at Grayson Memorial in 24 minutes. Janie took care of the stuff at receptionist's. I headed for the nurses' station on the sixth floor-the burn unit.

"Yes, Mister Clausen, but she can't have visitors even family for a little while. The doctor will be out to see you shortly. Please have a seat," said Nurse Joan.

I was mentally pacing in the waiting room for news, any news, about my wife. Janie stayed with me for a little bit making sure I was okay. She was almost as nervous as I was.

Nurse Joan came up to me. I guess she felt sorry for me being in the wheel chair as I was. Most people had that reaction until they got to know me and what an asshole I was. Well, that's how Sammy and Henry referred to me.

"Can I call someone for you, Mister Clausen?" she said. I was about to blow her off; I only wanted to talk to the doctor. But then I had a thought. Janie Had left having given me orders to let them know what was happening as soon as it was good for me to do so.

"Uh, yes," I said. I gave her the number. I knew he'd respond. Oh yes, I was sure of it, and this time nothing else mattered but his response. I knew my wife, my wonderful life's partner, was in tough, and that had to be fixed and I would do whatever it took to get the help she needed. My God I would, no question.

CHAPTER 23:

I was literally shaking. I was terrified. The man strode in major concern in his look. "Jim, the nurse told me. Have you heard anything else?" said my ex-best friend.

"No, no, not yet… Rodney… " I started, but paused. I really just didn't know what to say. I knew what I wanted but not how to express it. I just started bawling like a baby.

"Rod, she can't die she just can't. I mean she just can't, Rodney. Rodney, don't let her die," I said not stuttering but barely coherent I was sure.

"She's not going to die. She's not, Jim, we won't allow it. We won't," he said. I nodded and cried some more.

"Jim, I'm going to talk to the doctor or somebody for a little bit okay. I'll be back. And, Jim, you are not alone. You're not, not ever, my man," he said. And then he left to do whatever he was going to do.

And then I was alone and scared and well, alone. I wasn't even sure what was going on. I knew my wife was in bad trouble. I knew my ex-best friend was going to be there for her, and for me if it came to that. I was going to have to rethink my relationship with him, and, with Claire. He came and he was going to try to help her. Doctors, hospitals, it all cost money, sometimes lots of money; this was one of those times. I knew it for sure, oh yeah, a lot of money. My ex-best friend had a lot of money, more than God I was sure.

I looked up at the clock it was almost 5:00. I'd been waiting for some kind of word any kind for almost four hours. Where was the fucking doctor!

******

"Doctor Weintraub?" said Rodney Pollard.

"Yes, and you are?" he said.

"My name is Rodney Pollard," he said.

"Rodney Pollard? Any relation to the guy whose name is on a plaque in the dialysis ward," he said.

"Yes, that's me. And I'm the money man as far as Ann Clausen is concerned. So what's the deal, doctor?" he said.

"Are you related to the woman?" he said.

"No, but my best friend is her husband and he is depending on me to take care of things and I intend to do just that," he said.

"I'm sure you know that I cannot discuss a case without the permission of either the patient or in this case the patient's spouse," said the doctor.

"Doctor, the man can hardly talk. He's a basket case. This is his wife, his entire life depends on her making it. Can you at least give me some hope here," said Rodney.

"She's going to live, Mister Pollard. I can tell you that much, but…"

"Her burns, can they be fixed? You know any plastic surgery? What?" said Rodney. " Hmm, yes, mostly, I suppose. But, the cost to do the job… " he said.

"Cost will not be an object," said Rodney. "I, we, want only the absolutely best care, doctors, medicines that can be gotten. No limits sir, no limits whatsoever."

"No limits? I can guess that you have a lot of money, Mister Pollard. I mean the plaque. But you could be looking at anywhere from half a million up for the kind of care and rehab that you seem to be asking for," he said.

"Not a problem. Can you arrange things? Who do I talk to to arrange things?" said Rodney.

"I'll take you there now," he said. Rodney nodded.

******

I saw him returning before he saw me. He was looking down, but also determined.

"Rodney?" I said.

"I tried to get detailed information, but that has to be you; the doctor did tell me that she will definitely live. Also, I was able to set up the coverage angle. She will lack for nothing. James, we will get through this. And you have to let me handle it. They won't give me the runaround. They daren't," he said, "but they likely would you."

I nodded. What he didn't say outright was that they would give me the runaround because I was poor. But, this was one time that I was not about to let my pride get in the way of what needed to be done. I knew what he was saying. He was going to pay because he knew for damn sure that I could never afford what likely needed to be afforded. We had disability insurance but it had limits. And the limits were going to be way less than needed to fix my woman up right.

I considered calling my lawyer, but suing the company for her medical bills would likely be slow and problematical on several levels. This is one time when speed was of the essence. Rodney Pollard was going to have free rein; I would see that my lawyer took care of that part of things. My ex-best friend would be having carte blanche in making all of the decisions.

Just as he got done telling me what he told me, a nurse came into the waiting room.

"Mister Clausen, You can go in now, but you can't stay too long and she can't talk too good yet, the meds," she said. I nodded my understanding, waved to Rodney and wheeled myself into the darkened room. She was awake.

"Hi, honey," I said. I knew I sounded weak and fear laden. I think she tried to smile, but that might have been my imagination.

"Hi," she rasped.

"Don't talk, honey. I just needed to be with you. Honey we're gonna get you back to being okay. Rodney is running point with the establishment here. There will be no brooking delays or settling for less than whatever you need. I swear it honey," I said. I was talking too much.

Her eyes kinda of glazed over and she tendered me a small nod. She was acknowledging my words. Believing them might have been wishful thinking on my part. But it's all I could think of to say.

******

I did talk to my lawyer, Mister Donnelly, the next day before going back to the hospital to see my girl. I got the word that he would be looking into the matter. I knew whatever he found out I would be informed of it right soon.

It was almost 2:00pm I had to get back to the hospital. I had two weeks leave that the boss, Mr. Penniman allowed me. Sammy, who'd covered me for the one day, had to get back out on the road. Henry picked up the slack for me on the job for my two week hiatus.

She was sleeping. I know it was her meds that were keeping her out of it. I wasn't complaining this was no time for me to be selfish about her sleeping in all day, hell no it wasn't. Claire joined me in the evening of the second day. She let me know that the family Pollard would be keeping me company mostly in shifts. I appreciated that. I needed company if only to wipe away my tears of fear and frustration. And, I'd need it, the support, for the next two weeks, until my baby was able to come home. Well, I was hoping she could come home. The doctor had been doubtful, but I was holding out hope.

******

"You okay?" said Claire. "You look kinda ragged."

"Just tired and worried. I mean… " I said.

"It's trite, Jim, but please don't worry. She's going to be getting the best care there is and she'll be home before you know it," said Claire. "I'm invested in Ann's recovery as much as Rod is as much as we all are believe me." And I did believe her.

Claire and I talked for the whole six hours of visiting time, part of it in the cafeteria while my darling mostly slept. Ann had been awake for maybe two hours of our visit, and Claire had been demonstrably tender toward my woman, and toward me; I had to appreciate that. Had she been such since the breakup maybe things would have gone a different way, but water under the bridge now. I only cared about one thing, getting my baby back to normal; I had no life worth a damn without her-none.

******

"How's he doing?" said Rodney.

"Shitty. He's so afraid of her not getting back to the way she was that… " said Claire.

"I know, I guess I know. I am pulling out all of the stops to get that woman rebuilt. Cost is no object. I just hope that medicine and technology are up to the task," he said.

"Do you have any news on that front?" she said.

"I have some people looking into it. Trouble is this is an area where I have no inkling as to how to proceed. I do have a friend who I have turned on to some investments who says he thinks he can help at least to the extent of finding out things. He's a professor at Cal Tech. He's a bio-engineering scientist," he said.

"So he should know stuff, right?" she said.

"Plastic surgery isn't his field, but he says he knows people whose field it is and he is tapping into those for us. After everything that's gone down over the years, this has to work out for us. We, he, deserve a break here. Damn if we all don't" he said.

"I am so in agreement on that with you. Oh my yes," she said. "The irony is that in this case he is forced to turn to us for help. There is no one else who would be willing to go as far as us to help him, her, out. In a way what has happened to her was a good thing. I mean it's not that I'm glad that something this horrible happened, but it may bring us all back together. That's a positive, right?"

"You're right about it being ironic. And, I guess it is positive in the sense that it will help us get back on an even keel with our man. But no, I would never have wished that something this bad would happen to facilitate the rapprochement that will now likely occur because of it," he said. She nodded.

"I'm going to talk to him about things," she said. "Not now, but soon."

"Things?" he said.

"Yes, you know, about rejoining the family in a big way. Like we were willing to do from day one. The day that he caught us doing it," she said. "Not the same deal about doing threesomes or you doing me on the side, the sex stuff that I offered him at the time; but in all other respects we need to be a true family again. Right honey?" she said.

"Yes, and of course the sex thing won't be a problem now because he has his own woman to do for him and love him and all of it," he said.

"Yes, exactly my thinking," she said.

******

I watched her come around. She'd been a bit more wakeful the past few days. It'd been a week since the accident and a lot had happened. Some of it was beyond the pale such as my total change of heart as to dealing with and being around the Pollards.

The accident turned out to not be an accident. It was sabotage. Some fuckwad environmentalist was making a statement about fossil fuels. He'd evidently planned to blow up the place after hours, but had miss-set the timer on his more or less sophisticated device: Instead of midnight it went off at noon. The cops had him in custody and he was looking at possible life in the slam. I wanted the death penalty for the shit head, and for that matter all of his cohorts which I was sure there had to be some.

The bad news for me, I guess it was bad news, was that, since the explosion had been caused by a bio-terrorist, suing the company was not an option. They, Harcort Industrial, were not responsible. I would be totally depending on my ex-best friend for help in saving my wife. The good news, to balance against the bad, was that Rodney and Claire were willing to help and were setting no limits.

"Hi," she said. Her voice sounded normal to me, well, more or less.

"You too," I said.

"Jimmy… " she said.

"Honey?" I said.

"I'm scared," and she started to cry which inspired me to do the same.

"Honey, you are going to be good. It's going to take a little time, but you're going to be good," I said. I hoped that I was selling the product. I wanted her to be confident, and, and if not actually happy about things at least a little bit patient.

Her entire upper body was wrapped in what I was calling swaddling clothes. Her facial covering left small openings for her nostril and her eyes, but the rest was completely covered. The nurses, I had learned, had resisted letting her see her face when they changed the dressings telling her that the wrappings had to be done quickly and that delaying things even for moments was not a good idea. Did she believe them? Hell no! But, she didn't push it fearing the worst, and not wanting her fears validated.

I had gotten some info from Rodney-the doctors were talking primarily to him now-that the plastic surgery part of things and not just for her face, but the rest of her too, was slated to begin in another week, week three since the incident; we were not calling it an accident anymore.

******

"Yes, he is very angry, he wants to kill the guy who set the bomb. I guess it's a good thing that he's got other fish to fry for the moment," said Rodney.

"Yes," said Claire, "taking care of his wife. A small upside to him having lost his legs, I'd be afraid that if he had his legs that he'd go after the guy in police custody or not."

"You might be right. Actually, I would if I were him, no question or not much of one for damn sure," he said. She nodded.

"Anyway, you were able to get that guy form Johns Hopkins?" she said.

"Yes, he supposedly can perform miracles in the plastic surgery realm. So, well, I guess we'll be seeing," he said.

"Yes, well, I sure hope that he can. I can't remember hoping so hard for anything," she said. "What's his name again?"

"Doctor Albert Kohlburt," said Rodney.

"You going to be talking to him yourself?" she said.

"Don't know. James will be of course, so maybe, probably," he said.

"Rebecca went there last night," she said. "She told me that Ann's spirits were up, so I guess that's good news. She actually talked to her for a little while James went downstairs to get a bite to eat and some coffee."

"Did she say anything about her dad?" he said.

"Not much. She said he seemed nervous. Understandable. I gotta tell yuh, I sure wish the procedures especially the ones relating to her facial burns get done sooner rather than later." she said.

"Yeah, that goes without saying," he said.

******

"Well," said Sam. "So what's the news?"

"Tomorrow's the big day. The first surgery is going to be performed by Dr. Kohlburt and he sounded optimistic. I'll be there for that. I'm going to be working afterwards. She's going to be out of it all day. But then I'm going in after work to be with her until they kick me out," I said.

"You want me to be there to hold your hand," said Sam. "I mean it."

"No, that's okay. Rodney's going to be there, and maybe Claire too, not sure about her, but probably," I said.

"Jim, I know it's not any of my business, but it's looking more and more like you're going to need to rethink your friendship with the two of them. I mean what they did so long ago is what it is, and what it is, wasn't and isn't good. But all of that said, I think they are genuinely remorseful for their actions at the time; and, no matter what they do or you do now; there's no way to get things back to the way things were in those days. There just isn't, Jim, there just isn't," said Sam. "And, life goes on, and, they are doing their damnedest to do right by Ann, and by inference you, now. They are." I nodded.

"Everything you say is right on. And just between us. I wonder, if they could redo everything that happened in those days, would they? That's the one question I still have. Still…

"What you say about what they are doing for Ann, now, in the present, does it make up for everything? On the face of it, I'm gonna say yes it does. Put another way, this is as big a good thing as what happened then was a bad thing. So yes, one can make the case that amends have been made, or, more accurately are in the process of being made.

"So, okay, I will be doing what you suggest, Sam. I will be rethinking the friendship thing. I will be thinking about it a lot and very deeply," I said.

"Good," he said, "I think that's good and the right thing to do."

What I hadn't said, or admitted to Sam, was that I had already been thinking along the lines that he'd laid out to me. Old offenses were going to be both forgiven and forgotten.

******

The man in white came through the big doors, and he had the look, well, a business like look.

"Doctor Kohlburt?" I said.

"Yes, Mister Clausen, she's doing fine. She's sleeping now and will be for quite a while. But, you'll be able to go in to her in a little bit. They're taking her to her room now," he said.

"And," I said.

"And, the operation, this first one, was a success. The bandages will come off in a week's time. The entire healing process is always a matter of how well the patient reacts to all of the protocols. But, I'm thinking in your wife's case it'll be about a month.

"I should caution that there are still more procedures that need to be attended to, but she will pull through, and she should be as good as new or nearly so in a few months at most," he said. "I know you're anxious to get it all over with and done, but she was in a very bad way, and we all just need to be patient and let the healing process take its course."

"Doctor, thank you very much for your help. They said you could work miracles. I guess you have," I said.

"Don't know about miracles, but in this case, things are looking good," he said.

******

"She's still sleeping?" said Claire.

"Yes, she was a wake for a little while, and we were able to share a few words; but I guess rest is the order of the day. I hate it that I have to work during the day. I want to be with her all of the time. But, the doctor, and even Sam and Henry and your husband, tell me that I need to get back to work and start earning a living so I can support that very high maintenance woman in there," I said. We were standing and doing some pacing, in my case the mental kind, in the waiting room just outside the ICU room that Ann was in. We could see everything through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of the one person unit.

"Yes, well, I'm sure they're right, James. All of the worrying or the worst parts of it for sure, are in the rearview mirror now. Becca will be here in a little while to take over for us. She'd grown to really like your wife," said Claire. I think that they're bonding pretty well. That's a good thing in my opinion."

"Yes, yes it is," I said, "and you're right they had developed a relationship over these past couple of years. I know we, you and I and Rodney haven't talked about it much. But…"

"Yes, I mean no, we haven't. James soon, one of these days, you and I have to have a sit down. Would that be all right?" said Claire.

"Yes, that would be fine," I said. "Whatever you want. You and Rodney came to the rescue of my wife and I won't be forgetting that ever."

"Jim, Rodney and I want you to know that you have carte blanche with us. Whatever you need, or Ann, we're there for you mister. Okay?" she said.

"Sure, no problem," I said. She could see I was still holding back something. She called me on it.

"James, stop that now. I know that the problems of the past are deep rooted in you, but it's time to let it all go and to start new," she said.

"Sure, you bet," I said, and I said it in my least convincing tone of voice.

"Jim Clausen!" she didn't quite scream.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know what the heck is wrong with me. You weren't there of course to hear him, but Sam told me the same thing you just did. I mean about dumping all of the old baggage. Can I say that I'm in the process? Like you said, all of it is kinda deep rooted. I think sometimes I just react the way I have conditioned myself to react. It's not even how I really feel, at least I don't think it is." She nodded.

"Yes, I understand, I guess. It has to be hard for you," she said.

"It kinda is. I mean I am so grateful first to God for you and your husband being there, and second for the chance to maybe make everything right again. But, I do still have some feelings that are out there. Feelings for you, Claire. I wanted and want you to be happy. And, I wanted to be the one to make you happy. When I lost that chance, and realized that maybe I'd never really had that chance; well, it cut real deep. But, as you say one of these days we'll be talking you and I, and, I'm hopeful for a positive outcome," I said.

"Me too, Mister, and I do understand," said Claire. "And we will indeed be having that little talk."

I saw her before Claire did.

"Becca," I said. "Glad you could make it. I know you had work today. How are you?" I hadn't seen her for a few days, our schedules didn't mesh. I knew she'd been by of course, taking her shift as we were all beginning to refer to our times with my wife.

"Good Dad. I'm good and happy to be here. How is she," said Becca, nodding toward the sleeping woman in the room across from us.

"She's good," I said. "The doctors have been keeping a close eye on things."

"Well, good," she said. "Hi mom." She turned to her mother and smiled. It felt strange, no good, the three of us there together: mom, dad, and daughter. I wondered if either of them had a clue how I felt about that. Life, she was complicated sometimes. This was one of those times.

******

I headed on home. I needed to get a little sleep myself. And, I needed to think about what Claire had said about our sitting down together. Yes, for sure that. I really did have things to think about and consider. Sammy's thinking came back to me. What also came back to me was the realization of how close to Sammy's thinking was Claire's, and really, my own. I just wondered, still wondered, considering everything that the two of them advised, if it was actually going to be possible to completely dump all of the bad stuff built up over so many years. Well, we'd, I'd, be seeing I supposed.

And then it was six months later and my wife was home and working in the garden and looking as beautiful as she ever had, at least to me.

CHAPTER 24:

I was exiting the chapel in my chair, and he came up to me. "James, how are you?" said Captain Traynor.

"Good, Captain, good. You and Captain Dora?" I said.

"Yes, also very good. A couple of your friends came by the other day," he said.

I looked him askance. "Sammy and Henry?" I said. The dynamic duo did know the Traynors of course. They'd each talked to them a number of times both together and individually over the last few years. But, I also knew that they hadn't talked to them recently, for quite a while actually, and certainly not in the months since Ann had gotten back.

"Yes, oh and they didn't come by to talk about you though both you and Ann were mentioned obviously," he said. "No, they're planning on coming to church more regularly, the both of them." I think my mouth was hanging open.

"The Salvation Army church?" I said.

"Yep," he said. "Sam had asked some questions before, but hadn't shown any real interest at the time in coming in, but he has now; the both of them have. Surprised me as much as you seem to be surprised," he said.

"Yeah, well I am surprised," I said. "Yeah the two of them will be talking to me right soon. Like maybe today." I didn't laugh, didn't really smile, but I knew the captain could see that I was wanting to understand what was going on.

"On another score, how are you and the Pollard family getting on?" he said. Again I didn't smile, but I did nod in a positive way.

"Okay, I guess," I said. "They were there for Ann when it counted. A man can't forget something like that; I never will for sure."

"Hmm," said the Captain.

"Yes?" I said. It was clear to me that he wanted to tell me something or comment or something, but was reticent to do so.

"Yes, I know they were there for the two of you, and I do men the two of you. I had the feeling that Mister Pollard was very much as interested in resolving issues with you as he was of supporting Ann's recovery," he said. I nodded.

"Well, we're getting on pretty good these days, to answer your question," I said.

"Hmm," he said.

"Captain, is there something?" I said.

"No, no, it's just that; well, I ran into him, Mister Pollard, the other day," he said. "He was kind of iffy about how the two of you were getting on. As a matter of fact, he said pretty much the same things you just got done saying almost word for word actually."

"Well, okay," I said. "That's good right? But I mean but iffy?"

"James, I've been in this business for a long time as you know. It's clear to me that at best you are doing your best to 'not' offend Mister Pollard. But, maybe not your best to heal old wounds," said Captain Traynor.

"Captain, I mean, I'm not sure that I understand you," I said.

"Jim, have you visited the man? Have you invited him to your place just to watch a ball game? I know you thanked him, said all the right things after Ann recovered thank the Lord. But well, I mean…"

I was nodding. I looked away and then back at the man. "It's hard, sir, very hard," I said.

"Things, worth the time to do or to have often come with a lot of hard work attached to them, Jim. Anyway, think about what we've talked about today. Okay?" he said.

"Sure, I guess," I said.

******

The man was right. There was no doubt about that. But could I do what he was suggesting? I wasn't sure about that, not sure at all. But he had made a couple of offhand suggestions that might be worth the time to consider, and I had now consider them, and now I wondered if my ex-best friend forever would be on time.

I was tilting back a Lite. I heard the car pull up out front. I wheeled myself over to the window. I smirked, right on time I thought. Not early not late, but right on time. I had left the door ajar. He knew to push and enter. It had been the way I had arranged things the few times he and Claire had visited after Ann'd gotten back from Grayson. It had been four or five months since the last time.

"Hello," I said, as he let himself in as predicted. He did close the door behind him; well, it was cold outside; January usually was.

"Back atcha," he said. "Thanks for the invite. Ann around?" She hadn't been in evidence since he walked in, hence the question.

"No, believe it or not she's at church. A women's club thing," I said. She doesn't like baseball anyway. Get yourself a brew; I stocked up." He nodded and headed for the kitchen. He was back in one minute.

"So what's the occasion?" he said coming back into the front room.

"Nothing. I mean the ballgame, but nothing besides that. It just occurred to me that after everything that we hadn't gotten together for anything or talked or-anything-I mean since Ann got out of the hospital," I said.

'"Okay," he said, and he said it slowly, suspicion the order of the hour.

"Oh hell, Rod, it's taken me a bit of time, but after everything, as I say, I think we need to reconnect as friends. You did some stuff, you and Claire. I reacted. Then you came through for me and Ann, and I well, and now I'm reacting.

"I have to tell you, ask you, make this easy on me, Rod. It's uncharted territory, and I'm not real good at navigating stuff like this," I said.

"Okay, okay," he said. "But can I ask you something?"

"Sure, I guess," I said.

"Are you saying that we're friends again? I mean this is not just a matter of us burying the hatchet and calling things even, but actually friends again?" he said.

"I think so," I said. "What do you say, think, want?"

"You know damn well what I want, big guy," he said. He came at me, not to me, but at me and offered me his hand. I took it and shook it and I think I won the squeeze contest.

"Okay then," I said.

"Okay then is right. Now, what time does the game start," he said.

I looked up at the clock. "About fifteen minutes," I said. I raised my almost empty Lite and started to turn toward the kitchen.

"Hang on there hoss, I'll get it." I nodded my okay to be served. Well, I am a cripple, and there are some perks, small ones, that even an asshole like me will accept without complaint or demonstration of false pride.

******

"You're fucking kidding me!" said Claire.

"No, and I almost lost it when I realized what he was trying to say," said Rodney.

"Well, how do you like them apples," she said. "It's fucking time!"

"Oh yeah, and I think from now on we're going to be good," he said. "He has actually buried the past. Or maybe that's not quite right. He's decided to forgive the past and be grateful for the present which he sees as good because of what we were able to do for him, and I do mean him. Ann was the catalyst, but he's the one who got the most relief, at least that's what I think."

"I think you're right at least on the emotional level. Yes it was him we saved. And in the saving earned his forgiveness for, well, all of it," she said.

"I feel like celebrating," he said.

"The Crossroads?" she said.

"Sounds good. Maybe we'll bump into him there but probably not. He was kinda disappointed when his Dodgers ate the weenie today. I think he's going to be moping around. Oh, and he an Ann are coming over next Saturday. He has to ask her, but I don't see it likely that she'll demur."

"That's good about them coming over. Oh, and I should ask, we're you wearing your Padre's cap today?" she said.

"Of course! Oh and I even offered to get him one which almost ruined our new-old friendship," he said. The two of them started laughing. Well, it was a good moment and one a long time in coming.

******

The Crossroads was busy. Marie and Jackie were both on duty, and both of them were running. Marie was handling the bar and Jackie was handling floor operations. Marie in her early sixties and Jackie the youngster in her early fifties were moving like teenagers on speed.

"Ain't got no tables, Rod," she said. But Sam and Henry got one; wanna join 'em," she said.

Rodney looked at his wife. She nodded. "Okay, that'd be good," said Rod.

"Well howdy doody," said Henry, as the Pollards pulled up seats across from them.

"Too you too Henry, Sam," said Rodney Pollard, catching his wife's coat as she tossed it to him and took her seat next to him. "Jackie said you had to let us sit here because they were short of booths tonight."

"Yeah, well that's how things are done here in the cheap seat section," said Henry, smirking.

"So, a night out on the town?" said Sam.

"Exactly," said Rod.

"Not so," said Claire. The two friends across from her looked her askance. "No, we're here to spend Rod's winnings."

"Huh?" said Sam.

"He took ten bucks off of James today: the Dodgers-Padres," she said, "and he's gloating though only to me."

The two friends broke up laughing.

"Jesus," said Henry. "That actually makes me feel good. But, you do have to give the man a chance to get even; I mean he is kinda poor, I mean compared to you guys."

"Yeah well, there is a poker game, oh and a dinner at our place next Saturday," said Rodney.

"Oh, you two are gonna play one on one?" said Henry.

"No, no we got a couple of other fells lined up," he said.

"Yes," said Claire, "You know 'em too. Names are Henry and Sammy."

"Yeah we know 'em," said Sammy. "I hear they're pretty slick players too."

"Hmm," said Rodney, "Well, I hope they bring some cash with 'em. There's a twenty dollar buy in."

"Yeah, well I hear that they're pretty well heeled," said Henry, "so that ain't likely to be a problem."

"But Rodney, so everything is cool with you guys and our man?" said Sam.

"Yeah it is, at least it's getting there I think," said Rod. "He says it is. I actually think we have a little ways to go yet: but the ice has been broken, the wall has been breached, progress has been made; well, you get the idea." The two men across from him nodded.

"Thank God," said Sammy.

"Yes for sure," said Claire.

"Rod," said Henry, "I got a call from Captain Traynor from the Salvation Army today. Sammy and I will be attending his church more or less regularly. We're not going to be full-fledged members, but we will be attending. We like the people."

"Huh?" said Rod.

"Yes," said Sammy, "We kinda got to know them, the Traynors, through Jim. They're good folks."

"Well, that's nice," said Claire. "I agree they are nice people. We're Catholics of course, but the Traynors do good work, and we, Rod and I, appreciate that about them."

"Yes, well they did a lot for Jimmy. That kinda did it for us too. Those kinds of people are our kinds of people, not enough like 'em," said Henry.

The group talked for almost two hours over drinks and nachos. Henry and Sam did buy the first round. The next rounds were on the Pollards; well, they had the big bucks.

******

"Whatcha doin' cowboy," said Ann, coming up behind him.

"Oh Ann! Nothing really, just catching the last of the sun's rays," I said. "I think it's warming up."

"Hmm, so you thinkin' about anything?" she said. He knew what she was getting at.

"No, I mean just him, them: it's kind of surreal to me, I mean getting along with them as though nothing ever happened. I mean I guess I'm glad we're all getting along and all," I said.

"I know how it is. I went through a bit of the same when it comes to thinking about how my ex did me too," said Ann.

"Do you think about the guy much? I mean you haven't said much about him in quite a while," I said.

"Oddly no. Or better said, when I suspect you're running your history through your head, it makes me remember the things that he did to me. But otherwise hardly ever at all," she said.

"So I'm the catalyst for you having bad thoughts?" I said. I didn't want that, absolutely I didn't!

"The catalyst? I guess that that would be one way to characterize it. But it's more like I realize how much you were hurting and maybe still are, and then I compare my situation to yours and I don't feel so bad.

"Am I doing things the right way, Ann," I said. "The Traynors, well Captain Morris, it was him kind of got me off and on."

"You ask are you doing the right things dealing with them. I think you are doing a useful thing, and 'maybe' a good thing. Is it the right thing for you given everything that's happened over all of these years? Boy that's a toughie. I guess it is. You don't, you really don't, need to spend your life living in a sea of bitterness. That would be the wrong thing. So, again, are you doing the right thing? I have to say yes.

"But, Jim, it's clear that there will be times when it doesn't feel right, when it doesn't work for you. For that problem you need me. Don't keep me in the dark. No, keep me in the loop, or, as the man said, 'Then this too shall pass,' meaning the bad thoughts," she said. I was nodding.

The woman next to me was way smarter than I was. I had to be thankful for that one, and the bad guy was the catalyst for bringing her into my orbit if not actually responsible for making it happen for me.

"I still feel funny being around the two of them. When it's just him it's not so bad, but if she is there with him I keep thinking of how long it was that I was her cuckold. And… " I started but stopped.

"And," she said.

"I know it's going to sound stupid, but I wonder if they talk about me, and laugh at me for being so dumb and gullible for all of those years. If I knew that they were laughing at me… " I said.

"I doubt that they do any of that. They really do owe you a debt that there is no possible way for them to pay. There are likely times when they, or one or the other of them, may feel trapped because of that little reality. But, they don't strike me as the kind of people that are so petty that they would make fun of you off the cuff like your suggesting," she said.

"I guess," I said. "Thanks, Ann, sometimes just talking to you makes me feel better."

"When are we going to be seeing them again," she said.

"As a matter of fact, Sunday," I said, "the day after tomorrow. They're coming for dinner."

"Nice of you to tell me," she said.

"Just something simple, no need to have a holiday feast when it's not a holiday," I said.

"You leave those kinds of decisions to me," she said. "But, no problem there's enough time. I'll be shopping tomorrow.

"Oh, but no more poker, the boys took your sorry ass to the cleaners last time! We ain't billionaires like the Pollards. Okay?" she said, she was smiling. I knew she didn't give a damn about the twenty bucks, every penny of which I'd lost…

Thinking about it, I had to laugh and I did. Henry'd pretty much cleaned us all out at the last game, a month gone

******

The four of them showed up for dinner as planned, that is the dinner was planned. We were only expecting the three of them, the Pollards.

"And, who is this handsome young man?" I said, as the four of them passed me. He was a boy, maybe Becca's age: twenty-six or twenty-seven.

"Daddy, this is Gerald," said Becca. "He's my intended."

I stood stock still. The others had already passed me into the front room of our little place. They were watching my reaction. And, I did good. My response was truly brilliant.

"Huh?" I said. Becca smiled. The young man stuck out his hand to me.

"We're going to be married," said Becca. "But, dad, it's cold. Can you shut the door, please?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," I said. I shut the door.

It was clear to me that the Pollards, the two older Pollards had gotten the news before me. Not that that was the biggest deal in the world, but I had never even heard of the kid, or having heard, sure as hell didn't remember hearing about him. I decided to mention it.

"Well, greetings," I said, unnecessarily. "Rebecca's been keeping you a secret. How long have you two known each other?"

"Daddy, can we have a drink of something. I'll tell you all about it," said Rebecca.

Ann took matters into her hands. "Claire, like to join me?" she said.

"We'll help too," said the two youngsters. That left me and my new-old best friend.

"We knew the kid, well, we'd met him before," said Rodney. "He was her prom date and he'd dated her off and on for a while back in the day, but that was some nine years ago. But we, Claire and I, just heard about their plans an hour ago. As a matter of fact we didn't even know she'd been dating the guy again." I nodded.

"Okay, well, you know the guy a little then. Is he a good guy? What?" I said.

"He was back when. I guess he still is. But, James, they're 27 years old. They're old enough to make their own decisions, and, they have," he said.

"I assume he has a last name," I said.

"McCready. He's a mechanic. He likes old movies. He has a chopped, lowered, channeled, dagoed chariot: a '56 Chevy basically. It's a rod he's been doing things to since he graduated from high school. His dad gave him the car as a graduation present," said Rodney.

"Hmm, I guess it's my turn then to talk to our erstwhile daughter," I said. "I assume you already have."

"Yes, well I have. Claire left that little ditty to me," he said. I nodded.

Just then the kitchen crowd joined us.

"Here're the drinks," announced Claire, leading the parade into the room.

She had the pitcher of whatever, and Becca had a platter of glasses suitable for martinis.

"Martinis," said Ann. Everybody but me hurrahed the bringer of liquid justice. I did get my drink poured for me by Claire, Becca had handed me the glass a second before.

"You'll like him, Daddy," she whispered to me when she handed me the glass. I gave her a look that said a lot, and she translated it, the look, quite accurately I was sure.

It was a good hour after dinner that I was able to corral my daughter for a private word.

"So you met Gerald in school, that right?' I said.

"Yes dad. He was a good guy, not all Rushin' hands and roamin' fingers if you get my meaning," she said. I nodded.

"So what does he do for a living? He does have a job, right?" I said. Rodney had already clued me as to the man's occupation, but I wanted to get her talking about the kid.

"He's a mechanic, Daddy. He makes a good living. We'll be fine," she said. She didn't say that her other daddy was rich and would pretty much guarantee that they did well; that was a given.

"Hmm, yes, well that's good," I said.

"Dad, I know what you're thinking. Daddy Rodney is rich so we will be too. Well, that's not exactly true," she said. "Gerald wants to make it on his own, our own. He won't take anything from Dad, my other dad. My fiancé is independent and so am I."

I know my look must have surprised her. "Oh really," I said.

"Yes, really," she said.

Now I was very interested in this independent guy that she was into. I had to admit to a certain amount of pride that she'd picked an apparent winner in this Gerald fellow. Well, if what she'd said was a true thing. I wondered if his highness, my new BFF, was in the know about this independence thing. I figured to be more than surprised if he were. I'd be talking to my wife about some stuff for sure.

Rebecca and I talked for a bit more before I was commandeered by my ex-wife.

"Got a few for this old gal," said Claire.

"You're not old," I said, mater-of-factly, but sure, I guess so."

"Well, thank you for that, sir," she said. She walked toward the back of the room where the sliding glass door opened onto the patio. It was clear she didn't want anyone overhearing us. It wasn' cold out, and no one else was outside. I was intrigued. I followed her out.

I was in my chair with a blanket covering my stumps, so I was comfortable.

She turned toward me and leaned back against the wood railing of the patio. "So whaddya think?" she said.

"Of Gerald?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Don't really know, but he does seems to be a man of character," I said. "I mean judging by what Rebecca told me."

"Yes, he does," she said. "We've met him before, seen him a number of times back when they were in high school. Becca told me that they ran into each other in a bar. That led to a renewal of their interest in each other, and well…"

"I see," I said. "So why the subterfuge? I mean us coming out here into the cool night air." She deflated, but only a little.

"Claire?" I said, taking the lead.

"Jim, Rodney wanted me to take the lead here on something, something he wants to ask you. He knows you won't take any big gifts from us. It's who you are: a man of character to paraphrase your analysis of our future son-in-law," she said.

"Claire?" I said, repeating myself.

"Well, Rodney has been kinda loosely following innovations in the development of prosthetics for amputees, like you, sir," she said.

"Claire!" I said. Impatience was a virtue I had long been refining into a near art form. I was getting impatient now, oh yeah!

"Well, we know how seriously difficult it is for you to get around. Even though, I hasten to add, you've been an inspiration to all of us in how you've adjusted, really!" she said.

"Claire, please get to it, whatever 'it' is," I said.

"Okay, you're right," she said. "Well, it would make things a lot better for you when the two of you walk our daughter down the aisle."

"Huh?" I said, "the two of us? Claire get to it!"

"Yes, Rod hopes you'll allow that the both of you walk her down the aisle." I know my brow wrinkled, but I skipped ahead in my thinking.

And what exactly is it that would make walking her down the aisle easier?" I said.

"A new kind of artificial legs, very up to date, computerized actually, and they're adaptable to you special. I know that up till now that there wasn't any on the market that would be suitable for your situation, and you will have to have them fitted and periodically refitted and serviced I guess is the word, from time to time. Well anyway it's something that Rod and I both want to do for you, and you have to let us, Jim. Jim, you have to allow us this little bit of grace here. Please," she said.

"Boy she was slick was my ex-wife. Not only did she make me an offer that it was going to be real hard to refuse, if indeed I even did consider refusing. She'd also slipped in the obvious, if not unduly vague, request that I be okay with sharing the walking of my daughter down the aisle.

I felt myself smile, and I saw her relax. It was clear that she was interpreting my expression as lending approval to her gambits.

Could I do it? Was I that much of a best friend again to the man who had helped make me her cuckold? I nodded. "Okay to both of your proposals," I said. I'd caught her off guard.

"Both?" she said. My look clued her that I was onto her. She had the decency to look down.

"Was I that transparent?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"But, then you're okay with it, them, the proposals?" she said.

"Yes, I guess so," I said.

She literally rushed at me. She was crying. "Thank God," she said.

The feel of her breasts against my cheeks as she hugged me and kissed me reminded me of how it had been in the beginning some thirty years gone. I started to get emotional, but I didn't show it too much I didn't suppose.

CHAPTER 25:

"You're kidding! No push back? No objections? Nothing?" said Rodney.

"No-well-as for the prosthetic legs he was a little slower but seemed to think better of rejecting us and went for it," said Claire. "He never even asked about the cost of the legs. I don't think he has a clue about what all is involved overall. That's a plus or he would have pushed back on that one for sure."

"Yes, for sure

"Just maybe we are over the hump with him. I am so glad that Denise mentioned her sister to me that day. Denise's salary is going to be getting a 10% bump," he said.

"Hmm, yes, I just hope that all of this isn't some kind of a mirage. I mean I know it's not, but up till now… " she said.

"Yes, I know what you're saying. We've been down this road before," he said, "well, maybe not this road."

"Yes, and as for him walking her down the aisle tandem with you. That's maybe an even bigger deal for him than the legs. He wants to be seen as her 'real' daddy. It's the one thing that kinda irks me. And yes, I know I have no right-or intention I might add-of even suggesting that you not him is the main daddy of record," she said. "But…"

"Yes, and we will not be mentioning anything of the kind. He gets to have his beliefs unrealistic or not. He just does. Our baby wouldn't even be alive except for him. No, he gets that one no question," said Rodney.

"Yes, I agree, reluctantly, but I do agree," she said.

"So now we plan for the wedding," he said. She nodded.

"Yes," she said. "And there might be a small problem there too. Yes, we could pay for it, and I want us to. But…"

"Yes, he's not gonna go for that. But, I have an idea. And, I think it could be the one thing that really does put an end to all of the problems that have gone before," he said.

"Oh?" she said.

"Yes, you've already done your part, now it's my turn," said Rodney. "I'm going to go to him and ask him, as her 'main' father to pay for it. I figure the cost, the way the kids are talking, is gonna run out at around five grand. They make enough together to swing it. It'll be a bit of sacrifice for them, but with me submitting to him that he's the 'main' dad of our baby, well I'm pretty sure he'll jump at the chance."

"You don't think he'll see right through your play?" she said.

"Not the way I'm going to present it," he said. She was nodding.

"Okay, go for it, but I hope you're right," she said.

******

"There you are," I said, "I thought you got lost."

"No, I got GPS and your house isn't that large," said Rodney. "Claire said she talked to you about a couple of things." He seemed a tiny bit nervous.

I snickered. "Rod, lighten up. I'm good. Yes, I'll take the artificial legs if they're still on the table. And, I'm happy you're allowing me to walk Becca down the aisle with you. Ann has straightened me out in some ways and I'm doing my best here. Well, you know, we've talked some these past couple of months, socialized."

"Wait a minute, James, wait just a minute. We're not allowing anything. It is your right as her main dad, her real dad in more ways than one, to walk her down the aisle. Claire meant, and I mean, that I'm grateful to you for being okay with me joining 'you' in walking our baby down the aisle," he said.

I smiled, "I know you're paying for this wedding, Rod. Of course you have the right to walk her down the aisle too, and, you've been there for her a hundred percent of the time, me not so much," I said.

"Yes, and you saved her life and by the way mine too if it comes to that. No my man. You are by definition her 'main' dad. Yes, I do claim a bit of that honor for myself too, but you are the one whose seed brought her into existence. "And whose sacrifice made sure she was able to keep on keepin' on."

"As for paying for the wedding, it's gonna cost around $5,000. I'll pay for it if you want me to, but it's actually your responsibility, and yes, I know it would be infinitely easier for me. But easier for this particular ditty should not be the deciding factor. Anyway, whaddya think," he said.

He'd stopped me. Five thousand would hit me and Ann pretty hard. But he was right, it really was my responsibility. Could I come up with the cash? The short answer was yes. I'd have to borrow it, but I was pretty sure I could do it.

"Well, since you put it that way," I said. "Okay, you're off the hook for this one."

"Good," he said.

******

The wedding was happening on this third Sunday in April, two months after my introduction, and Ann's, to Gerald McCready. We'd done the whole show over those intervening almost nine weeks: the parties, the showers, the rehearsals and et cetera. And now here I was, and he was, standing in the church foyer waiting for her to come in from the bridal prep room.

"It's been a long road to here, man," he said.

"It has for sure," I said.

"Can I say that those new gams seem to be working out pretty well for you," he said.

"Yes, they are. Thanks for the gift. It was a biggee. I won't forget it," I said.

"A small recompense for everything you've done for this family," he said.

"Hmm, yes, but not so small," I said. Just then she literally flowed into the room. God my baby was beautiful: the image of her mom at her age. I was as proud of her as I ever had been of anyone or anything.

The two of us, him and me, were smiling big time.

"Hi, honey," he said, "you look gorgeous."

"Yes, indeed," I said, "just like your mom when we got married back in the day." I got a look from my BFF for my comment but nothing was said. The music started and we began the march down the aisle.

We made it to the front of the church him on her right me on her left. Then we hit a small snag. And it hadn't come up in rehearsal. The pastor had only said, during rehearsal, "And now I ask who gives her away et cetera," and we just continued with the rehearsal as both me and my BFF just nodded. But now here we were.

"Who gives this woman in marriage today?" said the pastor.

I was disconcerted. Should I say me? I didn't want to upset the apple cart. Rodney mouthed the answer over to me. "We," he said too quietly to be heard except by the angels.

"We do," we said in unison. The pastor didn't miss a beat. We passed our daughter up to him and her about to be husband.

The ceremony continued and then there was the reception.

We sat at the bridal dinner table with the couple, me on her left him on her right. Ann and Claire were beside the each of us respectively. We dads both danced with our daughter, me first then Rodney. The legs he'd gotten me made it possible for me to dance-slowly; I for sure was no threat to the reputation of the legendary Baryshnikov, but I was able to avoid embarrassing myself.

The day was good. The two newlyweds seemed to be made for each other. I wondered how long her new man was going to be able to resist succumbing to the temptation of big money. I figured about a year maybe two, but it was frankly none of my damn business regardless.

In attendance at the wedding were the Traynors; my buds from the street, Mac and Roy; and of course Henry and Sammy from the job. As a side note, Henry had just retired so he was in the same boat as me; well, he was sixty-six. Some relatives, mostly of the distant variety, helped fill the pews and the hall for the reception afterwards.

On the ceremonial side of things, Ann and Claire had seen to the care and feeding of the bridesmaids and the maid of honor all friends of Becca's from Harcort or her college classes from a few years before. Best man was a guy that worked with Gerald at his shop. A few other guys he knew from wherever were the groomsmen. It all worked quite well overall.

******

The night over, all of the mandatory goodbyes said. The couple having cut country two hours before, we all headed on home.

I unhitched myself from my legs and scooted across up and on to my side of the bed.

"It all went well," she said, leaning her crutch next to the bed and more or less plopping down beside me.

"Yes, yes it did," I said. And, now, we get on with the business of living and doing what comes naturally," I said, laughing, but not very loud.

"Hmm," she said.

"Hmm?" I said back to her, but my 'Hmm' was a question.

"I didn't want to say anything tonight, I mean tonight was for the youngsters," said Ann.

"Okay, and is there something you're not telling me?" I said.

"Well, I'm telling you now, so no," she said.

"And," I said.

"And, I'm pregnant," she said.

I'd been looking at her with a questioning look, but now I was looking at her with a stunned look. Oh yes, I was stunned. Really really stunned. I hadn't even considered that it was possible for us to get pregnant. I don't think she had either.

"Ann, you're not yanking my chain are you?" I said.

"No darling, I'm not yanking your chain. And, I was as surprised as you obviously are. I found out yesterday. I'd missed my period, so I bought one of those do-it-yourself tests and it's positive as hell.

"Well, how do you like them apples," I said.

"The question is how do you like 'em?" she said.

"But how?" I started. "Oh and I like them apples just fine!"

"Well good. As you likely do not know, I am, was, still having periods if not as much or as regularly as when I was younger, but I still am, was. I thought I was past conceiving, but apparently not," she said.

"Apparently," I said. "Obviously you haven't seen a doctor yet."

"No, but when I got the positive I called for an appointment. I'm being checked out on Monday," she said.

"Well, okay, but let's keep this on the quiet until you've seen the doctor," I said.

"My feeling exactly," she said.

******

The pregnancy test was confirmed by the doctor. I'd been doubtful of the reality of what my wife had told me, but now there was no longer any doubt. And, now all and sundry were about to be informed as to our good fortune.

Ann had driven us to the Pollards' castle in the sky. Claire had buzzed us up.

I knocked. Claire answered. "Well hello," she said. "This is a surprise. I mean you calling to come over today, and a welcome one."

"Well thank you," said Ann. "I hope this little visit isn't too much of an inconvenience for you?"

"No, no absolutely not," said Claire. "And how are you Jim?"

"Good, very good," I said.

"Well have a seat," said Claire.

"Claire," I said, "we have some news."

"Really? Okay?" she said. "I hope it's good news."

"It is," I said. "Ann… " I was letting my better half take the lead on this one.

"Well, Claire we're pregnant, Jim and I," she said. The look on Claire face was actually comical; well, I thought that it was.

"Oh my God!" screamed Claire. "Congratulations!"

"Well thank you for that," I said.

"Indeed," said Ann.

"How? When? Talk!" ordered Claire.

"Well, two days before the wedding I realized that I'd missed my period, I was maybe four weeks overdue. I'm not that regular anymore, but I was feeling kinda funny," said Ann. "So, I took one of those pregnancy tests you can buy at the pharmacy. It was positive. Then, to be sure and all, I went to the doctor yesterday and he confirmed it; I'm two months along: I'm pregnant as hell."

"I am just flabbergasted," said Claire. "But this is wonderful news. Can the two of you stay for dinner? I know that Rodney's going to want to hear from you guys first hand." I looked over at Ann. She nodded.

"Okay, sure," I said.

******

The next months were so busy it was almost too much for me, and I know for a fact it was too much for my wife. But, we did get through it, and here we were in the waiting room.

I was sitting on a stool near the door glancing at that door a dozen times a minute or so it seemed. Rodney and Claire were across from me. They were watching me. The McCreadys were still on their delayed honeymoon, and wouldn't be back for a few more days. It had evolved that Gerald really wouldn't accept any big money from the Pollards, and had had to delay their honeymoon to Cabo because they didn't have the money quite at the time, but they'd saved and now they were in Baja. He did accept one expensive wedding gift, Rebecca had forced him to, but that was it. Oh the gift? It was a new Chevy Silverado. Oh, and he did smile broadly when he saw it.

We'd been informed, three months earlier that Ann would be having twins. That worried me on several fronts. Would her delivery be too difficult for her, would the children-the both of them-be healthy? I was aware that twins were often born underweight. At any rate, I was worried.

Rodney'd been reassuring me, mostly unsuccessfully, the whole three hours we'd been in the room that everything was going to be fine. Claire for her part seemed as nervous as I was; I wondered at that.

The double doors swung open and the doctor, Doctor Wentworth, Ann's gynecologist, emerged and he was smiling. I relaxed. The Pollards stared.

"One of each," he said. I didn't faint, but almost. "The boy was first; she'll have a big brother."

I started laughing, uncontrollably. "My God!" I said.

"Oh my!" said Claire, her hand went to her mouth in surprise though in point of fact it wasn't actually a surprise.

Rodney was hugging me. I don't even know for sure if I realized he was hugging me; I guess I did, but I really wasn't sure. He pushed himself back a little, his hands firmly gripping my upper arms. Claire stood back, eyes big and looking-something.

"Congratulations, my man, fucking congratulations," said Rodney Pollard. I started bawling.

"Mister Clausen, you'll be able to go in shortly. The nurses have to do their thing first. One of them will come and fetch you," said the doctor. I nodded wiping the torrent from my eyes.

******

We'd been home two days before the Pollards came calling. I was grateful for the brief delay in their appearance. Both Ann and I needed to make plans for their arrival that was both our gift to them and, well, a little revenge for me; and no that isn't an oxymoron, not in this particular instance.

"Come in, come in," I said, "Ann's in the den with the babies." I led the parade to the den.

"Oh how beautiful they are," said Claire. Rodney was smiling and standing over her shoulder as I walked around to the other side of the lounge chair she was situated in.

"Becca and Gerald will be home tomorrow, and I'm sure they'll be by then," said Claire.

"Good, good," I said. "I would like to formally introduce you to our babies." I got a look from Rodney. He'd already met the twins three days before.

"Okay sure," he said.

"Mister and Missus Pollard I would like to introduce you to our new family members Rodney and Claire Clausen," I said.

"Huh?" said Rodney.

"Huh?" said Claire.

It was clear that for the moment my words were not tracking well in their conscious minds.

"Oh my God," said Rodney. The man began to choke up. It was obvious that I had actually stopped him cold in his disbelieving tracks.

He came at me, not to me, but at me and hugged me so hard it actually hurt. Ann got similar treatment from Claire. Then, the two of them switched victims. I even got a kiss on the lips from Claire that did embarrass me a little, not much but a little.

"Jim Clausen, I love you, we love you," said Claire. "And Ann, you are wonderful and we love you too." Then everybody was tearing up and then I got the bottle of wine I'd thought to purchase for the occasion, and we toasted each other and the future and the weather and everything else we could think of to toast.

Over the next little while, the two visitors held the babies taking turns with the each of them. Then, Ann put the babies to bed in their cribs. Then we adults finished the bottle of wine while talking incessantly and mindlessly about the day's happenings and the future.

"Jim, can you and I talk a little?" he said. "I mean man talk." I nodded. We headed outside to the patio. At least the weather was half way decent; it had been so damnably cold earlier in the year. But, this was April, and it had warmed up since the babies arrivals.

******

"We've come a long way, man," he said.

"Yeah, that's so," I said.

"Jim, I was king of the assholes doing all that I did. That you've been willing, I might even say able, to forgive me. I, well, I have no words. I just want to thank you so damn much and guarantee you that I will always have your back and Ann's forevermore," he said. He was being so earnest I almost wanted to laugh, but I didn't.

"Well thank you for that, all of that," I said. "But it's all good now. The past is behind us. Tell Claire that when you get home. I want her to know that it's all good. Okay? And you've done enough for us already."

"I will tell her; I promise you that," he said. "And Jim, We want to be the babies' godparents. Okay?" he said. I nodded. I hadn't even thought of that. But it seemed the right thing to do given everything.

We headed back inside. The two women were in deep conversation.

"We have a babysitter whenever the need might arise," said Ann as we came in.

"Good," I said, "that's good."

"And there's something else," said Claire.

"Oh," I said.

"Yes," she said. "And, I've already cleared it with Ann."

I looked over at my wife askance; no suspicion, definitely suspicion painting my features I was sure. "Ann?" I said.

"Yes, dear," she said.

"You and I have a date," said Claire, "at the Crossroads tomorrow evening."

"Huh?" I said.

"Yes. You just got done having your 'man' talk with Rodney. Tomorrow night we are going to have an ex-spouses talk, oh and a lot of fun," she said. My look caused a typhoon of purposeful laughter to erupt in the Clausen household.

******

"So you're going to have it out with him tomorrow night," said Rodney.

"I wouldn't put it exactly like that. More a case of him finally coming to grips with several truths," said Claire.

"Truths?" he said.

"Yes, one, that you and I still love him and that we have since day one and still do. Two, he has to let us help him when it comes to his family's medical stuff. We, you and I, know for a fact that he has no clue how much those legs of his cost and are going to cost: he could never afford them, not those particular ones. Three, both he and Ann need to realize that we are going to be true and real godparents to our namesakes. And four, that I, and I mean 'I', still love him in every way and that he should have let me prove that to him back in the day.

And, yes Rodney, I love you even more than I ever did him; but that said, he was never able to understand my need to have the both of you both in my heart and in my bed. And yes, all of that is by the boards now; but it was true at the time. That he has found true love in Ann, well, that had to be an act of divine intervention. So yes, several truths," she said. He nodded.

"And you figure to get him to accept all of that?" said Rodney.

"I do. I know it's going to be hard for him, some of it, eve now. But, I'm going to give him the skinny, the truth, of all of it tomorrow. He's going to finally understand our commitment to him and his family; and, that we are not brooking any demur on his part," she said.

"Whew, you've brokered yourself and big ass challenge there woman mine," he said. "But, I'm with you. And, yes, I do know that I can't be with you for this one. It has to be you, and you have to be convincing as hell!"

"That is a fact," she said, "oh, yeah, that is a fact."

******

We'd just finished eating lunch when I heard the knock on the door.

"Well hello McCreadys," I said. "Come in, come in."

"Good to see you again, dad," said Gerald. He'd stopped me for the briefest of moments.

"Well, hi to you too, Gerald," I said.

"Hi dad," said Rebecca. "We just got in three hours ago. It was great by the way. We loved Cabo."

"Well, good," I said. "We want to hear all about it. But first your siblings await you." I ushered them into the den, Ann's favorite hangout when she wasn't doing stuff.

The lounge chair had become her territory. "Well hi," said Ann. "You guys look-something."

"Yes, anxious to see my brother and sister," said Rebecca.

She went to Ann and peered into the eyes of the little boy.

"And this is?" said Becca.

"Your dad didn't tell you?" I said.

"Haven't been to dad and mom's place yet. Wanted to come here first. We'll be going over there tomorrow," said Rebecca.

I was surprised. Maybe I shouldn't have been but I was. I think it was the first time that Ann and I had been first on Rebecca's list in anything. At any rate I couldn't think of an exception to such.

Rebecca had been eyeing her brother, half-brother, but now she turned to the rocking sleeper next to Ann's chair. She reached in and stroked the baby's cheek. "They're beautiful," she said.

"This is Rodney and that's Claire Clausen," said Ann with a straight face.

"Huh?" said Rebecca.

"Rodney and Claire," I said, also deadpanning.

"Dad?" said Rebecca.

"Huh?" said Gerald, also not knowing exactly what to say.

"Yes, they are named after them," I said, "for all of the kindnesses they've shown us."

"Oh my," said Rebecca. "Mom and dad must've gone nuts hearing that."

"Hmm, a bit of an overstatement, but I do think that they were happy about it, yes," I said.

The party was underway. And it was a party; three bottles of wine consumed makes it a party. They had to hear about how the two senior Pollards reacted to having the babies named after them and why. And we had to hear about their honeymoon in Cabo San Lucas.

I had to allow that Ann and I were hoping to vacation down Baja way one of these days. We couldn't afford it at the moment and of course the babies would need a sitter who was family even if we could. And yes, Claire had previously volunteered, but it was too soon for any of that now even if we could afford a vacation like the one the kids just got back from which, again, we couldn't.

"Well one of these days," I said, finally talking about us going down to Cabo.

Ann smiled. "Yes, honey, we'll be going but not quite yet. The babies are going to need to get settled in first," she said, laughing.

"For darn sure," I said.

CHAPTER 26:

Ann drove me to my "date" with Claire. I could have done it: driven with my hand controls, but it was still a challenge, and so I didn't do it often. The babies were in the care of Becca while Ann and I drove to the Crossroads. Becca had volunteered at our little party earlier in the day before once she'd heard about the proposed meet up of Claire and me.

We pulled into the parking lot. She gave me a kiss and told me to behave myself. I allowed that I would likely not be given the opportunity to do aught else, and she laughed.

"You never know, stud. We women are more than unpredictable," she said.

"Yeah, right," I said. And then I was walking into I knew not what.

I'd no more than gotten in the door than Jackie Dela Torre intercepted me and led me to a table at the far end of the room. The two of us would not be exactly cloistered, but we were kind of out of the way of foot traffic. I counted that as a good thing.

The drinks were already on the table and Claire's was half gone.

"Well hello, stud," she said. She and Ann would have to get their act together at some point. Their scripts were beginning to be tritely repetitive.

"Hmm, yes, stud: that's me," I said. "It was in the newspapers." She snickered.

"Well, have a seat," she said, and she moved over a bit clearly indicating that I should sit beside her not across from her-weird. I did as she asked; this was her show, a show I'd like to have read the synopsis of ahead of time.

She took a sip of her drink. That kinda woke me up. I picked up my drink and took a sip too.

"So-okay-what am I supposed to do?" I said.

"Well, this is our date. It's been a long time in coming. But, I think we need to go slow. We'll have our drinks. We'll talk a little. And, I mean if you want, you could ask me to dance. You know when the DJ gets his act together," she said.

"Okay, but I'm gonna need at least one more of these before we do much else. Would that be all right?" I said.

"Of course it would be all right kind sir," she said. "So, did the kids show up today? I assumed they did because I know you needed a babysitter for a little while. Ann and I talked."

"Uh, yes, well Becca did. She said they'd been to your place earlier today," I said.

"I need to say, and I know I've already said it; but I'm honored that you did what you did with the names," said Claire. I nodded.

The DJ was starting. The first song was a slow one. I went for it. "Would you honor me with a dance pretty lady," I said.

"Well of course kind sir," she said.

We made it to the dance floor; I don't think I looked too crippled. We flowed slowly around. She melded herself to me and it felt oh so good. h, and she wasn't wearing a bra. It brought back memories I'd pushed to the uttermost back of my mind afraid to even think about them. Now, I was thinking about them and I didn't feel bad thinking about them. I had to believe that she knew what she was doing. What was absolutely true was that I didn't know what I was doing.

The song ended and I led her back to our booth.

Our second round of drinks was delivered. We sipped them slowly and with feeling. She was sitting close to me. The smell of her was oh so female. Oddly, I was thinking of Ann. Yes, she smelled just like Ann. It had to be by design, but would she? Could she have? Weird!

Jimmy put your arm around me. I need you to cheat a little," she said.

"Cheat!" I said. Suddenly I was confused.

"Just do as you're told," she said. I did as she told me, but tentatively. She snuggled up against me.

"Jimmy, I arranged for us to have this evening together because I have some things I need to talk to you about, and to kind of demonstrate how it is that you and I and yes Rodney too need to deal with each other from here on out. Would that be all right?" she said. "Please say it's all right, Mister, please?"

"Okay, I guess so," I said. The music continued to be slower R&B; stuff: my kind of music. Claire's too if it came to that, well, it used to be.

"Jimmy tonight is a real date and a real watershed for our future relationships: yours, mine, Rod's, and Ann's," she said.

"Huh? Okay. But huh?" I said.

"Just go with the flow. I'm leading tonight. Okay?" she said.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay, well, Jimmy that day so long ago when you caught me and Rod doing it, it wasn't the bad thing you thought that it was. I had every intention of remaining your wife. I loved you then and I love you now, and yes I mean that way. Of course you're married now to a wonderful woman, and I'm married to a wonderful guy. And before I go any farther I need to get a couple of things straight with you about this little date. Both Ann and Rodney know what I'm going to be doing and talking about tonight. And, I need you to let me do and talk. Of course at appropriate moments you can ask questions or comment what all. Okay?" she said.

"I guess so, yes," I said.

"Okay then. Jimmy, one: I need you to realize that I am not shitting you when I say that I love you. The physical stuff is almost by the boards now; well, it will be after tonight. I'm with Rod and you're with Ann. I see those as good things. I see those things at base as putting an end to the bitterness and heartache that has characterized our relationship, yours and mine, for so long. Are you with me Mister?"

"Yes, ma'am, I am," I said. And, I was.

"Okay then and two: Jimmy, you are a proud and strong man. Yes, you've lost your legs and that is something that weighs on me and Rodney too, every day, heck every waking hour of every day. Rodney, without even talking to me about it got those specially made artificial legs for you and arranged for you to have them adjusted, as you will need to do periodically forever, at no cost to you. Jim, you have to accept that from us as our gift to you for all you have done for us. No argument, Jim. You owe it to yourself to let us pick up the tab for it. We're rich, super rich actually, and the cost is no big deal for us in that respect as it definitely would be for you-way beyond you actually. Also, you owe it to your wife to be able to be able to walk and dance with her and all of it. The legs will allow you to do more for her than you otherwise might," she said. "Oh, and she'll be getting a leg like yours in the near future as well."

"Claire, I knew that these legs were going to be expensive; that's pretty damn obvious. And, I got a call a week ago from Grayson for an appointment next month to adjust the calibrations on them as the woman said. She wouldn't tell me, or maybe didn't know what the cost would be for the adjustment, when I asked her; but Claire I'm asking you," I said.

She looked at me kind of sheepishly. "Do you really need to know, Jim? There really is no purpose to you knowing," she said. "There is no upside to you knowing, really, I'm afraid it'll just weigh on you."

"Claire, I need to know. I know they're expensive like I said. They're computers for goodness sake. But Claire, I need to know, please. And, let me ease you mind. I will not let knowing weigh on me, not at all. Okay?"

"Okay, then Jim. Rodney told me that if you had to know that I had to tell you. So this is it James Clausen. The legs were $70,000 dollars. The estimated cost for servicing them over the lifetime of the user, you, is upwards of two million. The payments are automatically made when due without stint or delay. Jimmy, Rodney has arranged for that against all possible eventualities. Do not over think this. Jimmy we, Rod and I, are worth upwards of four billion. I'm telling you this, not as a matter of personal conceit believe me. No it's because I want it out in the open because I do not want to be fighting this battle with your proud self every which time in the future. Yes, we're rich, and we're alive to be rich because of you! O-fucking-kay!" she said. I nodded. The numbers she was dumping on me were overwhelming; nodding was the best I could do.

"Sweet Jesus!" I said. "I knew that these things cost money. A friend of mine who was in the Army, a guy I met here at the Crossroads, told me they were likely around twenty grand. But that much…"

"Maybe the military can get them cheaper or the VA or something, but I can tell you I do know what I'm talking about," she said. "Jimmy, are we okay on this one?"

"Okay yes," I said. "I have to say I'm a little shaken here by the sheer size of the numbers you've laid on me, but okay."

"That's why I didn't want to tell you the cost. But again, Rod told me that I had to tell you if you insisted on knowing. So, well, I have," she said.

"And one more thing, Jim," she said.

There's more?" I said.

"Jim, I know that Rod mentioned to you our desire to be godparents to the babies, our namesakes. And, I know you agreed. I just want to double down on what Rod already told you. We aim to be actual godparents not merely ceremonial ones. If anything were to happen to either you or Ann, well, those two children will never have a damn thing to worry about," she said. "Okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"I think it's time to tour the dance floor again. I mean if you're up for it," I said.

She smiled big time and I led her out amongst 'em.

Back in our seats I felt her hand come to rest on where the remnant of my right leg met my pubic area. I could feel my face flush. She looked at me and smiled.

"You look warm," she said, knowing damn well what she was doing to me. "You can let your hand rest on my breast if you like. This is a date and we are adults." I swallowed and dared the undareable. I felt her up.

"I shouldn't… " I said, but I didn't stop from doing what I was doing. I don't think I could have; it was a hot moment.

"It's okay big boy, but you're going to have to do your wife up pretty good tonight or in the morning," she said, giggling.

"For damn sure," I said.

******

We drank and danced a couple more times. And then I laid it on her. It had occurred to me while we were dancing that she'd laid it on me, all of the stuff from all of the years before, from her point of view and maybe Rod's. It occurred to me that I needed to do the same, but from my point of view.

It was getting late. We were on our third round. "Claire, you told me tonight, earlier, how you see and saw things, and made a good case for the way things should be going forward and how maybe things should have played out back in the day. Would you be okay with me venting a little too,' I said.

She looked over at me, nodded and narrowed her eyes a little bit. "Okay," she said, "sure." She'd said "sure," but it was a slow sure and well it might have been.

"Claire, over so many years I've gone over everything that happened in those early days after our breakup many times. I think I've pretty much figured it all out too. I mean the why it all happened as well as the how," I said.

"Okay" she said.

"I know from his own mouth, Rodney's, that he came on to you, not you onto him. It is true that you gave in awfully easily, and after long consideration that hurt me more than his part in it. Damn few men were going to be able to resist you, Claire, and Rodney Pollard was not one of those who were going to be an exception to that rule.

"You know I might only be a retired truck driver, Claire, but I'm no dummy. I read a lot. I've learned about people through my reading. After the breakup I began to think or realize, take your choice, that you never really loved me. The fact is that Rodney told me, or maybe implied it might be a better word, that although I'd gotten my bid in first to be your husband he said that you never should have married me. I thought he was full of shit at the time, but then I met Nadine and we did good for a while. And then I met Ann and now we're doing good. I learned from my experiences with them, Claire, that sexually I never got your 'A' game. And that's when I realized you never really loved me. You liked me. You were willing to help me get my rocks off, but love me? No. You thought I was an okay guy, and you saw me as a duty, a responsibility because you married me. But, when Rod put pressure on you to leave me and he did, even if it didn't seem like he did, you caved.

"Jimmy, it is not true that I didn't love you. I did and I do. No, not as much as I love Rodney. I would never claim that. But, you sure as hell were never chopped liver. Tonight this little date is a real one. It's going to undoubtedly be the last one, but it is a real one. And, yes it's a little bit crazy. As crazy as my proposal to you the day you discovered Rod and me in that guest room. He and I had fun those days, but we had not at the time gotten emotionally involved; that happened later," she said.

"No, Claire, that is simply not true. I think it was Malraux who said that 'men are nothing more than a miserable little pile of secrets,' something like that. That was the two of you. Three years of secrets. What secrets? Of course I have no way of knowing the details of any of that, but I can guess," I said.

"Jimmy… " she started.

"It would be my guess," I said interrupting her, "that the two of you, but especially you, were always comparing me with him. And, I'm guessing here, but not really, that I came off badly in the comparison. Can you deny it, Claire?" I said. She looked away.

"Hmm, yes," I said. "Can't fault your honesty.

"Claire, for all of it I see myself as guilty in all of this as either of you two. I could have had a life, gotten on with things as a half dozen people have advised me to do over these past many years. And, I did try believe it or not. But, every time I did something happened that kicked me in the gut and sent me back to being the loser I ultimately became," I said.

"Huh?" she said. "What are you talking about, loser! You are no loser buster and never were. A dummy? Yeah maybe. You could easily sell me on that one. But never a loser, never!"

"Hmm, whatever. After Rebecca was born, or rather after I found out she'd been born, I damn near died of frustration. Him being with you. Him being her main and real daddy, me broke and ruined and emotionally destroyed. What did I have to live for but hate," I said.

"Jimmy, you needed a woman. I knew that. Everybody knew it. That would have solved the problem, everything," she said.

"A woman, yes, but the woman I wanted didn't want me. I will say I did try, and eventually I did score with Nadine. She was what I needed. But then… " I said.

"Then you saved us. You were and are my hero. And, for what it's worth your Rod's too," she said.

"A fucking hero? I wanted my kid to love me, and she didn't. I wanted an ex-wife to at least not diss me on a regular basis, and I didn't get that either…"

"Jim, whatever you think, Becca loves you, she does," said Claire.

"Really? As long as we're being honest here, tell me you weren't coaching her to be nice to me. Tell me she was thrilled to be around me, especially after half of my body was chopped off? Tell me, Claire," I said. "Tell me she thinks of me as a real father, not just some low level uncle!"

"Jimmy, yes, I admit to advising her to say the right things to you because you were so emotionally unstable. I knew it. Rod knew it. And, as young as Becca was at the time, she sensed it too. And if it matters, now that she's an adult, she has come to love you as much as she ever loved Rodney. More, she respects you. And she does consider you as a father, not her only one, no; but one of two real dads not any uncle shit, believe me. But, as for that, I think Ann gets some of the credit there: she's trained you right, and you seem to, well, to have become an adult yourself. And, that's not a knock on you. Hell no it's not! You've had pressures on you the like of which Job would have had to respect," she said.

"Hmm," I said.

"Jimmy, we start new tonight. Okay," she said.

"I guess, I think we do," I said. "Oh, and because of you, I guarantee you that Ann is going to get a truly legendary screwing tonight!"

"Yes, well I damn well hope so. She deserves one, I mean a good one," said Claire.

******

Claire drove me home. The kids had gone once Ann had returned from dropping me at the Crossroads. They were slated to return the following Saturday for a small barbecue that Ann had planned for us all.

Claire and I sat in the car silent for some minutes before either of us spoke. She broke the ice.

"It's customary for the man to ask the girl for a kiss at the end of a nice date," she said. I didn't answer her. I leaned in and kissed her sweetly on the lips. I let the kiss linger for a moment.

And just like that all was good again. Claire and I would never have another date, but this last one was the catalyst for ending all of the angst and bitterness that had assailed me for three decades.

******

"So, how was your date, stud," said Ann, as I closed the door behind me.

"Good, good. But, I have something I need to do. Claire actually kinda put me up to it," I said.

"Huh?" said Ann.

"Yeah, she said you deserve a good screwing and I had better be up to the task," I said.

"Oh, she did did she," said Ann, but she was smiling.

-----------------------------

   Series:Betrayed
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She wants a bigger dick, and he ain't got it
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.web.archive.org/web/20170225170719/www.literotica.com/s/betrayed-7
Published:2021-08-06
My name is James Dalton. Marianne, my current wife, and I met twenty-one years ago at a small soiree for her date, Mr. Mel Calvo, a gentleman who had just been promoted from sales manager to VP of sales for Riley and Bozman Industries, that, upon the retirement of his predecessor. At the time I was twenty-four, and proud holder of an M.B.A. in business from Wharton. I had just been hired by RBI, who incidentally are makers of various electrical components and computer hardware; it was my first company party.

RBI had been headhunting for a couple of assistant product managers and one such for a quantity control position. Though I'd had but limited experience working summers during my college career, I'd gotten the assistant quantity control managerial job based on my degree and the subsequent interview I'd had with Nick Bozman himself. It was he who had invited me to the party that night.

Marianne at the time was a refugee from the secretarial pool. Mr. Calvo had taken a fancy to her and asked her to be his arm candy for the affair. At any rate, after that night at the party, Marianne and I had become an item. We'd danced some, drank some, and talked a lot. She accepted my enthusiastic offer to begin dating, and a year later we were man and wife.

Our home life was good, or so I'd thought. No damn it! It was good. It really was. And, I thought, I really thought, that the sex had been as well. It was only later that I discovered just how illusory some of my thoughts were in terms of the sex part. But, more about that in a bit.

I progressed over time at RBI; finally becoming VP of procurement and quantity control. My division did all of the materials buying and all of the inventory control. I loved the job, and I especially loved the pay and the perks. The pay, allowed Marianne to be a stay-at-home wife and mother. Yeah we had children: twin girls Melanie and Barbie: both twenty now and juniors at—where else—Wharton. Marianne became active in the community, and her commitments kept her, and keep her, almost as busy as me.

At any rate, for the first few years the sex between us had been hot, then lukewarm, then hohum. Neither of us realized what was happening at first. When we did, our attempts to revitalize our libidos took the forms of fantasy talk and role playing; it'd worked for a while. But now…

**

I am sitting on the barstool at the wet bar in our den and reading the letter she'd left me. She'd done it; she'd actually really gone and done it.

I'd begged her not to. I'd even tried to bribe her: she'd always wanted to go to Europe. But, evidently not more than she wanted to take a lover and have me be okay with it; all of it, her ideas, the result of our shared fantasies. I was not okay with it, fantasies were just that and nothing more. The verbal warfare that ensued was not good. Eventually, she called my bluff. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

The whole mess began two months ago, a Tuesday it was. The mess the result of us deciding to go for one of our fantasies one time, that more or less for the hell of it. Tonight was a Friday, if that means anything at all, and I am alone holding her letter, thinking about our daughters, Marianne, us. My life is fucked!

**

I reread the letter for maybe the fourth time.

Jimmy,

I have decided to take the bull by the horns and take a lover, as we—well I—talked about, and yes, it's Marcus Williams. I am not doing this to hurt us or to end us. I am doing it for me. I need it Jimmy. I hope you can find it in your heart to allow me this freedom. Trite as it may sound, I love only you; I love our babies; I do not love Marcus, but, I do need what he can do for me.

That one time, seemingly so long ago now, Jimmy, has made me need it. If we hadn't decided on me taking a lover so you could watch, well, we did and so here we are. I know we planned on it being a onetime thing, but well, sometimes things don't work out like we think they will. This is one of those times.

I'll be home around 10:00. If you're home and waiting for me, well, then I'll know we have a marriage and we can talk about where we will go from here. Jim, I hope we can move forward and continue as husband and wife, as mom and dad. I need you and I want you, Jimmy. Please allow me to fulfill this need.

Your loving wife,

Marianne

I refolded the letter and set it almost ceremoniously on the bar. I went around to the back of the bar and found me a marker, a red one. I wrote my response on the back of the letter: NOT A CHANCE! She wanted me, she said; well, evidently not as much as she wanted her freedom. It, we, were over.

She was right of course, at least in part. I had encouraged her to getting it on with another man so I could watch, and, so she could watch me watch her—in our fantasies it had always been a two-way street. It had been a really hot fantasy that we'd shared for years, among a number of others, and the time seemed right to just do it. The Man, Marcus Williams, was a sales agent passing through; and he seemed right too. He was here for a few days, as he said; he'd be gone forever after that—so we erroneously thought. I'd approached him with Marianne's tentative approval. I arranged a dinner meeting for the three of us.

After some shy-time where all concerned consumed a significant amount of liquid courage, Marcus began flirting shamelessly with Marianne. It took a bit longer for her, but soon Marianne was reciprocating. Me? I was—what—an interested spectator. I will admit to feeling some negative vibes as Marianne began to more or less ignore me as the flirtations went on; but, I reasoned; and I was still able to reason; Marianne and I were in our mid-forties, Marcus was in his early thirties, too young for him to get involved with us to any significant degree. Again, that was my reasoning. I was wrong.

Again, Marianne and I had engaged in so many different private fantasies, on so many nights, and never tried hardly any of them. It seemed to me that here was an opportunity to get one of the biggees done with no risk. Marianne, again, had agreed that so long as it was a onetime deal, that it might be a kick. So… two months gone we did it.

**

Two months ago:

Marcus had showed up that first night, and in spite of the previously noted ice breaker at the bistro, he was at least as nervous as I was. I counted that a good thing. As for Marianne, she appeared—what—comfortable. I thought that odd as hell; but, what the hey, she was a woman; women didn't think like us men.

She'd made us tea. There would be no drinking this night, no alcohol that is. She was in charge, and she wanted everybody in full performance mode.

As we sat and sipped our tea, I noticed that she and Marcus kept glancing at me. I had to wonder what was passing through their minds. But, their words, everything they said to me, was clearly meant to allay any concerns I might be harboring. All in all it was a good beginning or so I thought then; now, is a whole different kettle of fish. After maybe half an hour of making ourselves more or less at ease, she sent Marcus down the hall to get himself ready; she came to me; I was going to get a reup of my marching orders.

"Jimmy… " she started.

"Well, here we are, babe," I said. "Wanna call it off?" I was kinda smiling, but it was a weak smile, I knew, I was becoming a little unsettled, worried. She gave me a condescending smirk and ignored my weakly expressed negativity.

"Jimmy, once again, when we go in there, you know what to do, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I sit and watch but say nothing," I said.

"And?" she said, clearly not satisfied with my incomplete answer.

"And I'm not to play with myself or to give—him—dirty looks or do anything to upset the apple cart," I said. She nodded.

"Yes, and after he's gone?" she said.

"I am to strip naked and eat you out, clean all of his cum out of you. Yes, I know," I said. I'd been cleaning my own stuff out of my wife for as long as we'd been married. Somebody else's? Well, how bad could it be.

"Yes. Jimmy, that's exactly right. I know we've been over this several times. But, I just wanted to make sure that we don't have any glitches. You know, so we can enjoy ourselves and get the most out of it as we can. You've agreed to become a real cuckold tonight, Jim, not just an imaginary one. We have talked about that too—a lot—and while some of it may be a real test for us, none of it should be a surprise. So again, are we okay, Jim? Are we sure?" she said. I nodded. "Jim, once again, this is a onetime thing, so if we are going to do it, go ahead with it, we need to make the most of it. Okay?" she said. She was repeating herself; I guess she wasn't quite as comfortable as I'd thought; she was nervous too.

"Yes, of course, and we will," I said. She pointed to the credenza by the far wall.

"Bring your cap. Put it on the night stand when we go inside. Once you have been cuckolded, you will have to put it on and go to your knees and stay there the rest of the while my lover is here. Okay?" she said. I nodded.

The cap was a conical thing. It was an exact replica of the old dunce caps of bygone eras; its sole purpose was to humiliate and chasten. But, instead of DUNCE being emblazoned on it; it had the word CUCK on it instead, again, same purpose obviously as the old dunce cap. She'd made it herself, sewn it, out of felt. When she'd first shown it to me, I was appalled, but, I had agreed to wear it as she dictated; it was part of the scene: the lot of a fantasy cuck was to obey, so I'd obey.

She led me into the room and pointed to the chair some six or eight feet from the bed. After setting the cap on the night stand, as she had directed me, I took my seat.

No words of greeting, or looks for that matter, passed between me and her guest. He stood at the foot of the bed and waited for instructions. He was her servant the same as I was; well, maybe not the same, not the same service for sure.

She flashed me one small smile and went to her knees in front of him. Neither had so far touched the other. She looked up at him and then down at his still hidden manhood. She seemed mesmerized by the thought of it.

She stretched her hand toward him and traced the outline of the bulge in his pants with her index finger. He, for his part, shuddered at her touch.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she unzipped his jeans. The bulge that had been restrained by his zipped pants, now protruded almost, but not quite, obscenely through the opening in his trousers. His cock, the actual flesh of it still hidden by the material of his kelly green boxers, was clearly huge. I swallowed hard. I had to wonder if my wife would ever be able to go back to my less than generous member. That thought began to grow in intensity and caused me some worry.

Unbuckling his pants, she pulled them down to his ankles. Her thumbs invaded the elastic of his boxers and peeled them down as well. Her eyes never left his penis as she did so.

Taking hold of his cock, she stroked in almost inquisitively. She kissed the tip and then with a final glance toward her now suffering husband—me—she let it slip between her lips. She began to suck and lick him lovingly; her commitment to him bothered me a lot; but, straining to maintain my senses, I gathered the last, vestigial elements of my self-control and watched.

Marcus eyes were glazed over. No words had yet passed his lips, but his look was screaming his rapture. He came; he came copiously. Marianne's lips were smeared with his cum, that is, that amount that she had not managed to swallow.

She rose and went to the bed splaying her legs as she waited for him. He stood over her for a moment not yet ready to take to the bed as she had. He slowly jacked himself for a couple of minutes. Miraculously—it seemed a miracle to me—he was hard again. I thought I detected a look of concern from my wife at the sight of his engine: I thought her legs closed a smidgen, but it could have been my imagination.

He loomed above her submissive and prostrate form. Leaning down, he kissed each of her nipples and finally her lips. He had so far been very gentle with her. He raised himself a bit and played with her breasts. I could see her lick her lips in anticipation of what was coming.

"Are you ready, woman?" he whispered.

"Yes, sir," she said. He looked over at me.

"Are you ready, Mr. Dalton?" he said. I swallowed and nodded. His smile was condescending, as though announcing my inferiority to himself. Well, I deserved it; hell, I was inferior to him. I noticed my wife looking at me as he spoke to me. Her smile was benevolent. She looked back at him as he lowered himself to her and found her opening.

I saw him take hold of his penis and rub it gently up and down her slit. Suddenly he pushed the head of his cock into her. She grunted.

"Oh my!" she said. He pushed in a little more, pulled out a little, and pushed in again. He started seesawing in and out of her and then he did it. He rammed himself home. She shrieked her shock at his skewering of her.

I was a cuckold. Once he came, I would have to go to my knees and wear my cap. My humiliation was total; I felt giddy. He seemed almost in a hurry to do it to me. But, I suppose, as hot as I was, I would have been doing the same thing.

I saw him stiffen just as my wife screamed in the throes of her own orgasm. His jerky movement told me that my status had been changed from master of the house to that of my wife's cuckold, and, his. I rose to my duty.

He lay beside her now. They both watched me as I made my way, tentatively to the night stand. My back to them, I donned the cap. I turned and did my best not to meet their gaze as I went back to where my chair was and took my place on my knees facing them.

He took her twice more before even he couldn't get it up again. He dressed—he didn't hurry—kissed my wife, and came to me. Still on my knees, he looked down at me, smiled turned and left without another word; that was just as well.

Marianne smiled over at me. "Time for you to do your duty, my husband," she said. I stood, disrobed, and came to her. I was still wearing my cap. Her inner thighs were a mess—my mess to clean up. Starting at her knees, where a small amount of her lover's cum had somehow been smeared, I began licking her. I slowly worked my way up toward her slit and began sucking him out of her. I had worried that I wouldn't be able to stand doing another man's clean up, though I had determined that I somehow would; the reality wasn't as bad as I'd feared.

She grabbed my head and forced me to greater efforts as she neared another orgasm; I was proud of myself for that one.

"Lay down on your back, Jimmy, do it now," she commanded. I followed her directive. She swung her legs over me and settled her pussy over my face and lowered herself. I'd thought that I'd cleaned her out; boy, was I wrong. She drained a seeming quart of him from her vaginal canal. I took it all. I licked her anus now and she giggled.

"That's it my little cucky. Clean my pooper real good. Oh my what a wonderful gift you've given me tonight, my husband," she said.

I had to allow that I was feeling pretty good too. She swung her legs back and settled onto her back. She spread her legs as she had for him. "Take me, Jimmy. Come on and take me, and don't you dare cum until I do! Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, getting into my role. She did cum, but not until my second go. I was far too hot and horny too last in my first go 'round.

All in all things had worked out according to plan. It had been a great evening.

That night with Marcus, was a watershed, at least for Marianne. For me it had been one hot session, but a onetime only event, not to be repeated. My wife and I had seemingly been rejuvenated sexually because of it. The next weeks were a succession of sexual adventures between us.

The experiment had been great, and, again, at least as I thought, that should have been the end of it. It wasn't.

**

One month Ago:

"Sorry, I'm late, babe. The boss called me in for a meeting," I said.

"That's okay, but I'm feeling frisky; I hope you're not too tired," said Marianne. I smiled.

"Never too tired for a woman that looks like you," I said. She giggled and all but dragged me upstairs.

She slipped out of the middie skirt and blouse she was wearing and stood looking at me like I was some kind of a dummy. "You need help getting undressed slow poke?" she said.

"Uh—no," I said. Coming out of my semi-reverie. I hurried to get naked. She was still in her heels, panties and bra. She crooked a finger at me and pointed to the floor. I looked askance at her.

"Huh?" I said.

"On your knees, mister. Do it now." I did as she said. She moved to me and took my head and pulled me to her still panty-clad mound. "Suck on my panties, little man. I need you to get me ready for a really good screwing. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I pulled her into my face and sucked on her panties and her mound. She was soaking wet. I couldn't believe how hot I was. I needed this woman and I needed her in the worst of ways.

She pushed me away and turned around. "Pull my panties down," she said. I did so. I could smell her female musk. It was very powerful. "My anus, Jimmy, lick it and suck it." I can't remember any time—ever—that I was so turned on. I went after her butt with a wild abandoned I had never equaled. She was softly laughing at my desperation.

Pulling away from me once again, she went to the bed and bent over it, her legs dangling over the side. "From the rear. Now!" she said. I pushed my penis as deep as I could into her flowing pussy. I went slow at first, but soon I was drilling her with everything I had. She was struggling to maintain control as one small orgasm after another shook her. Finally she screamed, then panted, then squirted her juices out onto me and down my legs. Jesus, she'd been hot and ready.

I slid to the floor and leaned back against the bed, not even able to make it up and onto it. I sat gasping for breath. "God, that was good," I said. Marianne was still bent over the bed my cum leaking down her leg.

"Yes, yes it was," she said. She climbed onto the bed and spread herself. "Get up here and clean me out," she said. As hot as I was, I didn't hesitate. I had eaten my own cum many times in our marriage, but never with so great a need to do it. She came again at least once I was sure of.

Hard once more I took her missionary style before I had to surrender, unable to go again.

We slept hard and long. Little did I suspect that that night, as glorious as it had been, was nothing but a set up to get me to accept my place as a permanent cuckold of my wife and her lover. I would soon discover that truth, and in the discovery just how destructive of us—or at least me—it would be.

**

I could smell the coffee, even from our room. I headed downstairs to find the source.

"Good mornin' sleepy," said my wife.

"Back atcha," I said. "Coffee smells good." She smiled and brought me my already poured cup. There are few things better than that first cup of java in the early morning.

"You taking the day off like you said?" she said.

"Yeah, after last night I need a day off. I guess us doing our fantasy last month has a small downside," I said. "I'm freakin' tired all of the time anymore, and I'm blaming you!" I was smiling like a possum.

She giggled. "Jimmy?" She had become tentative. I knitted my brow wondering what was suddenly so serious.

"What?" I said.

"Jimmy, our little experiment, you know last month—well—it was good right?" she said.

"Very," I said.

"Yes, it was for me too. Jimmy. You love me right?

"Of course," I said, now beginning to wonder in earnest what was on her mind.

"And you know I love you more than anything, right?" she said.

"Also of course," I said. "Marianne, what are you trying to say?"

"Jimmy, I really liked it. I'd kinda like to do it again, at least… " she stopped in mid-message.

"What? You want us to have another go at it? Do it again with some other guy?" I said.

"Well…"

"Well, what?" I said. "I mean we can talk about it. I'm not against it totally. But, well, we did make a promise to ourselves not to do it more than the once. It was supposed to be a onetime deal."

"Yes, I know. But this time… Jim this time it would be me alone. You wouldn't… " I think I paled, then flushed.

"What!" I almost screamed. She quailed. "The answer is a flat no! Not a chance! You do that and it ends us. Got it!"

"Jimmy…"

"Who did you plan to do it with, just for the record?"

"Jimmy, please don't yell. It would only be for a short time. He's in town again, and…"

"Marcus? Marcus Williams?" I was still blowing out the walls.

"Jimmy please! Please don't yell," she said. I was progressing from angry to insane with rage

"Pack your bags, Marianne, you no longer live here," I said, and I stormed out.

**

I drove around for literally hours. I didn't stop even to pee. Finally, there was no holding it back; I had to go; some things won't wait.

Spike's Bar and Grill had bathrooms; I used the men's. The place was busy even at noon: lunch crowd, I supposed, the food must have been good. There was a seat at the bar. I took it, ordered a straight shot of Cuervo Silver, and settled in. I was fuming and the Mexican elixir had always been there for me when I was, fuming that is. The barkeep dropped by periodically to see how I was doing. Around three o'clock he asked me for my keys; I gave them to him.

"I'll get you a cab, man, when you're ready," he said. I nodded without saying anything. I had no place I had to be, and I just wanted the traitorous bitch I'd married to be gone and away from me. Of course you knew that it wasn't going to be as easy as that.

Around 5:00PM I was delivered to my house. Things were kinda blurry, and kinda mellow; and those were the good things. I somehow managed to get my uncoordinated physicality into the house, challenge though it was.

"Jimmy! Where have you been? I have been worried sick!" said Marianne.

"Yeah right," I said, not quite sneering. "What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to get out. We're done."

"Jim, this is my house too. You can't just kick me out, and we need to talk; and, we're going to," she said. "And, we are by no means done."

In my inebriated state it was hard to press my side of the issue.

The, "… we have to talk," shit she'd laid on me turned out to be more of a, "she talked" kind of thing; there was virtually no input from me. I actually started to nod off a couple of times. She was having none of that though; I got periodically shaken pretty good to keep me on point whether I liked it or not. Some little time later; I had no idea exactly how long; she finally got to the bottom line.

"So okay, Jim, that's all I have to say. I get it. I won't ask anymore. You win. There will be no repeat with Marcus or anyone else. Satisfied?" she said.

I heard her, and I think I tried to smile. "I feed to fleep. I tire," I said.

I stumbled up the stairs and made it to the bathroom, that just before an estimated seven Cuervos on the rocks brought about an intestinal revolution—or maybe it was a revulsion—that caused me to spend a deal of time worshipping at the porcelain altar.

Marianne stood just inside the door to the bathroom the whole time watching me retch my guts out. She said nothing. I think she was sympathetic to my plight, but this was one ordeal that she could do little to help me with. The dry heaves having finally subsided, I literally crawled back into the bedroom and onto the bed. Marianne helped me shuck my shoes and socks and pulled my pants down and off. I was out cold in a nano-minute.

**

Things were kinda frosty for the next few weeks, but, overall, we were seemingly getting along without undue difficulty; but, then, now, the letter. Helluva a thing. I wasn't getting drunk and manipulated this time; I was gone; that since I didn't seem to be able to run her off.

I packed, and spent the next couple of hours finding a place to flake out for the night. Tomorrow being Saturday I figured to look for a little better place than the La Quinta Lodge; I had the money—helluva deal.

I had been just about to cross the parking lot from the lodge to get myself a drink at the little bar there when I looked at my watch. It was 9:00PM. The letter said that she'd said she'd be back by 10:00.

I was parked a little ways down the street from the house when she pulled in; it was 10:05. I'd left the front porch light on, when I'd left, and now that worked for me. She got out of her car. She looked a bit disheveled. Well fucked too, I thought. I saw her hesitate before keying the lock to go inside; I wondered what was going through her mind. She went inside. She'd find my note soon enough.

I drove off. As I did I was thinking of our girls. Soon, I would have to tell them, tell them something. But what? That their mom and I had fantasies that had come back to bite us in the ass? That was the truth, and the truth didn't look too good. Maybe I could come up with a plausible lie. Fuck! For a smart guy, I sure wasn't thinkin' too smart—if at all.

**

She sat at the kitchen table, head in her hands, her cell phone on the table in front of her. She picked it up and punched in the numbers. Fifteen minutes later, a late model Caddy pulled up in front of the house. A large, well dressed, black man got out and went up to the house. He didn't bother to knock; he just went inside.

"So he's gone," said Marcus.

"Yes," she said. She handed him the paper with the large print note drawn in red marks-a-lot on the back of her letter to her husband. He took it, looked at it, and nodded his sympathy.

"I thought that maybe he'd—well—I don't know what I thought," he said. Her turn to nod. "Whaddya gonna do?"

She looked up at him. "I don't know. I think I may have lost him. Damn him!" she said.

"You've got me. I mean if you want," he said. She shook her head.

"I don't know, Marcus. Like I told Jimmy, with you and me it's just the sexual need not the emotional stuff that I have with him; well, had with him. I just don't know."

"Well, you know I'll be around when you finally decide," he said.

"I know, and I appreciate your willingness to help out," she said. "I just hope he's okay. I feel like shit if you wanna know. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt the guy. He's just so one way. I don't know, maybe it's me."

"No, it's him right enough. He married you, and he isn't into sharing; not in any real sense of the word. I can understand it; I don't agree with him of course, but I do understand where he's at," said Marcus. She gave him a frustrated look.

"What?" he said.

**

The same bartender was on at Spikes. He remembered me. Sign of a good barkeep, I thought to myself.

"Cuervo Silver?" he said. I looked at him. He was wearing a name tag this time. I didn't remember him wearing one before. It read Sam. A good name for a bartender, I thought.

"Yeah, sure," I said.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, a few hours maybe. I looked up at the wall clock; it read 1:37. It was almost 2:00AM and closing time. I slid off the stool and somehow managed to get to my car and back to the La Quinta. The next thing I knew the sun was up and burning me awake. I'd left the blinds open, and now I paid for that little faux pas by having to get out of bed and close them.

The little bar and grill across the lot from the motel had the virtue of being open at 6:00AM. I took advantage of that little reality.

I'd just gotten my dry toast and soft boileds when a woman slid into the booth across from me. "Hey Jimbo, how's tricks?" she said. I looked at her for a full ten seconds before recognizing her.

"Dory! Is that really you?" I said. I hadn't seen Dory Simmons since high school. She was every boy's punchboard at the time, even mine. And, here she was sitting across from me smiling like she knew something I didn't.

"Yep, it's really me. I could ask the same of you, Jimmy. But no, I recognized you last night when you checked in across the street at the motel. I was just coming out of my room when you registered and headed for yours. You looked kinda down, so I figured to wait till morning, now, to come on to you." She giggled.

"Yeah, well it really is me," I said. "And you look good, Dory. Come on to me?"

"Yeah, I remembered you from the old days in high school: Horny, dinky dick, pretty good oral. I'm in the market. Need a little tender loving?" She said, laughing. I frowned. "I'm just pushing your buttons, guy; lighten up for goodness sakes. Nothing's that bad."

"Yeah, well, not everybody shares your opinion about the state of things," I said. "And, it might be a little while before I'm in the market."

"Uh-oh. Woman problems?" she said.

"Marriage cratered. Wife decided I wasn't enough for her. How's that for tellin' it like it is," I said.

"Really? I remember when, if I may," she said. "I mean, you weren't that bad. Not much of a cock, but you did real good oral, like I say. Some of your skills get a little rusty did they?" she said. I looked at her; I was not amused.

"Must've," I said. I wondered what she was doing staying at a cheap assed motel like the one across the street. I didn't ask.

"Wanna talk about it?" she said. For the life of me I did want to talk to someone. But Dory? Well, why the hell not. Two hours and several cups of Java later she knew the whole story.

"Wow," she said. "That is heavy. Jimmy, if you don't mind a little advice…"

"Shoot," I said. "Whatever you've got to say couldn't be less useful than what all I've been thinking." She leaned back in her seat and took on a serious look. In high school nobody would have accused Dory of ever being even remotely serious, a good piece of ass. But serious, not. But, it had been a long time, and people do change; that was sure as hell a fact.

"Jimmy, we've not seen each other in forever. Now, some unnamed god has decided to have our paths cross, go figure. Jimmy, I've been married four times. Twice I was dumped on and twice I did the dumping. I'm a complete failure economically. But, at the game of love—read sex—I'm a regular icon. I can tell you for sure I've learned a helluva lot; trust me on the one; I have learned one fucking helluva a lot in the love department," she said.

"Well, that makes you and me pretty much diametrical opposites, I guess," I said. "I'm a major success economically, but, unlike you, a complete failure at love, or sex if it comes to that." She smiled her understanding.

"Jimmy, from your story, I'm gonna go out on a limb and tell you straight up: you're doing it wrong. Go back to your woman. Give her her space, and learn to live with her little quirks," said Dory. I looked at her like she was some kind of alien.

"Are you fucking kidding, Dory? She's replaced me. I'm clearly not enough for her. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel," I said. "Oh, she wants to keep me around right enough. Her salesman boyfriend does not command the kind of scratch that I do. In the divorce she'll get alimony, probably, if I can't figure a way to get out of payin' it; but her lifestyle is going to take a major hit at the very least."

"Exactly," said Dory. "She knows very well, I'm sure, that she might get a serious ass kicking economically by doing what she's doing, and she's willin' to risk it all for this—salesman—as you say. It isn't the money she wants, Jimmy; it's the physical stuff and maybe the affection that she evidently feels she's not getting enough of—well—from you Jimmy. We women, Jimmy, do not think like you guys. We need to feel loved, protected, adored. You guys just want to be turned on all of the time. Once the new car smell goes out of a marriage, read sex life, it takes people who are real adults to get their act together and make the marriage work.

"Jimmy, you need to suck it up and go back and prove to the woman you love that you do in fact love her," she said.

"Hah! Fat chance. Wimp out! Not me, I'm not a wimp, Dory. I will grant that I am an idiot—no argument—but a wimp? Not even," I said.

"Really? Whose idea was it to do the original sharing?" said Dory.

"Well, we both… " She raised an eyebrow; it stopped me cold.

"Not what you just got done telling me just a little bit ago," she said. "You are a wimp, Jimmy. A big, giant, huge assed wimp sure as you sit there. Only a wimp would be willing to watch while his wife was getting royally screwed by another man.

"Let me ask you, Jimmy, before Marianne met mister whatshisname, did you check to find out how big his cock was?" I eyed her. "Well, did you?" I looked down.

"Well, I did ask him to, you know, describe—well—himself," I said.

"And, is he bigger than you, Jimmy?" She was smiling; she knew the answer to her own question.

"What does that have to do with anything!" I said, beginning to lose it. She smiled.

"It has everything to do with it, Jimmy. You are one of those guys who gets off on being humiliated, and mister big-dick did just that to you, and your wife saw it. That's why at first she all but ignored you that night, Jimmy. I don't think she even realized what she was doing, I mean the ignoring, but that is what it was: she saw you for what you were. She still loves you, and yes a woman can love her wimpy little fellow, don't doubt it. But, the bottom line, Jimmy, is you are a wimp," she said. "Still…

"The good news for you is that it doesn't matter an iota. Being a wimp in the bedroom, if not in life in general, is neither bad nor good. It's just one of many realities, and sometimes it can even be a conscious choice. If it turns you on to be a wimpy cuckold, Jim, go for it. It hurts nobody. What can hurt, and that big time, is the price people pay for denying the truth about themselves. Accept what you are and enjoy it."

"You couldn't be more wrong, Dory, but thanks for the advice. See yuh around," I said. I got up, threw a twenty on the table, and left her sitting there, a half smile playing across her features. We'd meet again and, when we did, it would be a surprising situation.

**

The meet up with Dory had both bothered me and got me to thinking. Oh she was totally wrong about my being a wimp, but was she wrong about my wife thinking I was. That much of what she'd said made some sense to me.

I had indeed become my wife's willing cuckold. But, it had just been a game, just the playing out of a mutual fantasy, a onetime deal. The problem was that Marianne had discovered that she enjoyed it too much to give it up. And not only that, she wanted me to be okay with it. She had to know I wouldn't be okay with it; unless, unless she did think me a wimp and was just trying to see if she could get me to accept my place as one. Could that be it?

Question: should I go back and try to see if my wife and I could find some middle ground? I didn't think so; that would be wimping out for sure. So, failing that, what next? What should I do? I was floating and the current was all crazy and without direction. My daughters! What was I going to do—tell them. That had to be my next move. There was nothing for it.

**

"Who was that on the phone?" said Melanie.

"Mom. She just laid a bomb on me—us," said Barbie.

"She and dad are having trouble, Mel, big trouble. We gotta go home and see what we can do if anything."

"What? What kind of trouble?" said Mel.

Barbie looked at her sister, "Mom has taken a lover. She's told dad about it, and, surprise surprise, he isn't happy. He's moved out. Mom hasn't seen him for days. She's called his work, but he won't take her calls.

"Mel, I think mom and dad are getting divorced. This is not good."

"No!" said Melanie. "Not mom and dad."

**

The twins sat across from their mother just staring at her. "Please, girls, one of you say something," said Marianne. She had just gotten done explaining herself, and her daughters had not been especially supportive.

"Mom, how could you! Why?" said Barbie, finally taking her cue. Her mother looked at her with a forlorn expression.

"Girls—I—I couldn't help it. Marcus, your dad, I had to make a choice. I made it and I'm not even sure it's the right choice. But, I've made it, and I am going to stick by it. If I get the chance to make things—somehow—right by your father, I will. But—girls—I have to do this for me. And yes, I admit it; I betrayed your dad, and I did it big time. I guess, I know he will never forgive me for what I did; but girls, I hope you will be able to forgive me. I just had to do it, girls," said Marianne.

"You haven't answered my question, mom. Why did you do it? Melanie and I need to know," said Barbie.

Marianne rose from her seat and walked across the room, faced the wall, turned, and returned to her daughters. "Girl's, I'm forty-five years old, same as your dad. I have never had an orgasm with him. Never! I was with Marcus Williams one time, and I had three. Have you got any idea how that rocked my world! I tried to tell your dad. I tried to have my cake and eat it too, but he wasn't going for it. I don't blame him. I completely understand his feelings, and how I hurt him. I'm a selfish skunk. But, that said, I can't help it. I need, I mean need, what Marcus can do for me," she said.

"But mom, dad could learn. Even as young as we are, Melanie and I know that a woman has to train her man," said Barbie.

"Yeah mom," said Melanie. "Teach that good man you're married to what's what. He's not stupid, mom, he could learn how to please you." Their mother looked at them, her face a veil of sadness.

Girls, when it comes to being a provider, when it comes to being a loving father, a gentle lover, an interesting and funny life's partner: your father has damn few equals," said Marianne.

"Then what's the problem, mom, that only leaves what we've been talking about here. This—thing—has to be fixable," said Marianne.

"Girls, what I'm going to say, you must never repeat to your dad. If he figures it out for himself, well that's one thing, but none of us must ever mention to him what I am about to tell you. Got it!" said Marianne. The twins nodded.

"Girls, if you took a Hebrew National frank and cut it in half you'd pretty much have a replica of your father's cock: slender, very short, good for peein'. I can hardly feel him when he's inside of me," said Marianne.

"And of course this Marcus fellow… " started Barbie, almost sneering.

"Eight very thick inches," said Marianne, interrupting her daughter, "and believe me I feel every bit of him and that every time. And, he's not just a big cock. He's a gentle and considerate lover too, just like your dad, and a darn good man in every way. He doesn't have your father's business skills, but he makes a good enough living, good enough for me. Money was never an issue for me anyway. If it matters, I will be asking for nothing in the divorce except the house. No alimony, no claim on your dad's retirement, nothing. I mean nothing except the house. And, even then, if your dad fights me on it, I wouldn't even insist on the house. I'd just be going for my freedom to marry Marcus." Suddenly, she turned and ran from the room.

The twins looked at each other. "Barb, we have to talk to daddy. I don't know what we can say, but I do know that he is going to need our support for a while, maybe a long while."

"Yes. Yes we do need to speak with him, and we need to do it today," said Barbie.

**

I'd gotten both calls within five minutes of each other: my wife's first, and then the one from my daughters. I had misgivings about honoring either request. But, that said. I'd agreed to meet with Marianne before I even got the call from the twins, so I told my daughters that I would meet with them that night. It made more sense to do it that way anyway since I would then at least know more about where my wife was at. After all it was Marianne whose decisions were setting everyone else's agenda—especially mine—so it was almost a no brainer.

Spike's had gotten to be my regular hangout, so it was the decided upon, mostly by me, to be the rendezvous point. I was early and on my second Cuervo on the rocks when she arrived. She looked especially beautiful, at least to me. I wondered if she'd dressed like that to torture me; nothing would have surprised when it came to her now. Twenty fucking years down the toilet, and now alone and abandoned by the love of my life. Helluva note.

She saw me and gave a little wave; I didn't respond. She came to my table and seated herself without so much as a by your leave; well, I had agreed to meet with her.

"The girls called you?" she said without preamble.

"Yes, they called," I said. "Why are you here, Marianne? You made your choice, and unless you are about to change it, why are you here?" She seemed to deflate.

"Because we haven't talked, you and I, and we need to. I've met with the girls—and they… " she started.

"Let's leave the girls out of this, Marianne. This is you and me, and it's probably our last little time together; so let's focus on whatever it is that is left of us. Okay?" I said. She nodded.

"Okay, Jimmy. I understand. But, we will be seeing each other in the future even if you don't believe so now. I mean we have two beautiful daughters together. There will be holidays, graduations; well, you know," she said. I stared at her. I'd assumed that what she was saying would be part of what she was there for. But, she had no idea of the hurt and bitterness that had been building in me; I was about to inform her as to such.

"Marianne, I love you and need you. You, I believe, love me, but, you do not need me. You trading me in on another man has hurt me beyond telling. So, you will never see me again after this meeting. Not because I hate you, or even him; I just wouldn't be able to deal with the jealousy and hurt that seeing you would engender. Look at you now," I said. "You are stunning. I want you, and I know I can't have you. Do you have any idea how that sits with me? I doubt it," I said. She seemed to realize something; her face flushed.

"Jimmy, I'm sorry. I did not mean to come here and tease you. Honest to god. I feel like such a shit now. I am so sorry."

"Forget it. I'll deal with it while we talk here tonight, just not ever again," I said.

"Jimmy, find another woman. You need to have a woman to love you like I do," she said.

"You actually said that?" I said, looking, I am sure, as incredulous as it is possible to look.

"I do love you, Jimmy. I just need… " she didn't finish.

"Yeah, a bigger dick. I get it, Marianne. I'm not a complete idiot. I know what I got ain't much. But, it's what I got and that's the long and the short of it, no pun intended."

"Jimmy…"

"Yeah Jimmy. Nuthin' for good 'ole Jimmy. He can rot. Right, Marianne?" I said. Okay, I was whining. I felt like whining, so I was.

"Jimmy, stop that right now! I mean it. You are a wonderful man. And yes, okay, cock size is part of it; I won't try to deny it. That said, it doesn't mean that I can't love you for what you are, and that's plenty. Believe it," she said. I think I smirked, but if I did it was a sardonic smirk for damn sure.

"Yeah, anything's possible," I said. "But, again, why are you here?"

"I just thought—I mean—I just thought you and I could kinda—well—try to—I wanted to ask you to be, well, around for me. I know you're angry, and you have a right to be, Jim. I betrayed you. You didn't deserve that, and I will be a long time crying over that spilt milk, believe me. But, I do love you, Jimmy, and well I guess I'm here to beg your forgiveness. I know I won't be getting' it any time soon, but I have to beg anyway.

"And something else, Jim. I know this is going to sound really bad, but I have been thinking about it for some days now. I even talked it over with Marcus, and he's okay with it, with what I'm going to say. Jesus, how am I going to say this.

"Jim, any time you need—you know—something…"

"What? What are you trying to say, Marianne? Are you trying to say you'd spread for me? I mean if I asked you to?" I said. She looked at me with an expression that I could only describe as hopeful.

"Jim, there would be no shame in that, just some mutual satisfaction. I mean we've been married for a long time; it's not like it would be unnatural." I stared at her for a long moment.

"A little mercy fuck for good 'ole Jimmy. Is that it, Marianne? My cock's so small that no other woman will likely ever give me a tumble at my age. So you're willing to sacrifice yourself to let me take the edge off. Is that what you're offering me, Marianne?"

"Jim, I am not trying to insult you here, and I think you know that. But—that said—it is easier for a woman than for a man. If you need it, well, it's just an offer for some occasional fun, Jim. And, the offer has no expiration date. A mercy fuck? Well, so what, Jim. Call it whatever you want. The pussy would be real, and so would my interest in pleasing you. Okay?" she said.

"Yeah sure. You know, I can't believe how many different ways you've been able to think up to hurt me, but this one, this one surly gets first prize. If I never get a piece of ass again, you can't bet your last centavo that I will not ever be asking you for anything, most assuredly for anything sexual. Go it!" I said. "Have a nice fucking life." I stood up and headed out, my bitterness reaching a new high. And fuck, let her pay the tab.

"Jimmy! Please! Come back! I didn't mean…"

**

I was in a seriously bad mood when the girls arrived. But, as a man's little girls often do, they made me feel better almost immediately.

"Hi daddy," the two of them said in concert.

"Did mommy speak to you, dad? What did she say?" said Barbie.

"Well, you obviously know that she and I talked. What did she say? She offered me a little mercy if you want to know. I wasn't haven't any," I said.

"Daddy, if you would just… " started Barbie, with Melanie nodding her agreement.

"No!" I said. "No compromise, if that's what you were about to suggest. She's either my wife, or she's not. No in between."

"Dad, Barbie and I understand, I guess, that there is no saving you and mom's marriage. God, and how sick at heart that makes us! Mom, blew it. We understand her reason, her excuse really, but we do not agree with it."

"What Melanie is trying to say dad is that even if—when—you and mom divorce we're still a family. That other man is not part of our family. But, there will be times, dad, when we will all be together. We… " I cut Barbie off with a wave of my hand.

"Barbie, Melanie, I never want to see your mother again, and certainly not with her lover. Not ever, do you get me. I couldn't bear seeing her with another man who I know will be sleeping with her instead of me. I couldn't bear seeing the most beautiful girl I ever knew acting sorry for me. I just can't. So, no, we will never be in the same place at the same time again. Earlier today was the last time I will ever see her, and that's that.

"Girls, I still love the woman. I always will. I am more than bitter and jealous and lost—yes lost—knowing I will never see her again. But, that's the way it has to be. She's dead to me. Please don't ask me to get along with her, to deal with it. I can't! Period! Okay?" I said. The girls looked at each other, back to me, and nodded.

"Okay, dad. I guess we understand," said Barbie. "It's gonna be tough on us, but we'll honor your request. We'll figure something out, so you won't have to be around them." My turn to nod.

Time passed as it has a habit of doing, but that said, the pain some have to live with does not necessarily fade.

For the next three years I never heard word one from my ex; well, except for the divorce if that counts as hearing from her. Yes, my ex had finally divorced me about a year after our last meeting. The delay, I learned much later had been on account of the cost. At any rate she'd married her lover, good 'ole Marcus, immediately thereafter. She was now missus Williams. Oh, and she had kept her word about not asking for anything in the divorce.

In the end I'd given her the house, I didn't want it. I was hauling down pretty big bucks at RBI, so I just bought myself a condo and made do. Also, the court had initially given her $5,000 a month alimony. I didn't fight that either; it gave me a feeling of satisfaction to know she still needed something from me. Reasons for my willingness not to screw her over financially? My love for her just wouldn't die. No matter what she did to me, I just couldn't hurt her—and yes, I know I could have. In the end, I just shrugged and got on with my life, or tried to.

Again, it was less than a year after the divorce that she married the asshole. And again, I could have stopped the alimony with that happy happening, but, I let it go. I'd set it up so that my bank would send it to her every month. It just didn't matter to me, the money that is.

And then there was papa bear—me. After the divorce, single again and forty-six years old, I'd started dating. My ego had taken a pretty good hit, but I'm no stupido, though some might wanna argue that particular point, I had to assume there was somebody out there, some woman, that could find it in herself to love me for me, love me for the total package including my miniature dick. Hey, I brought a lot to the table. My salary was in the mid six figure range, I looked pretty good for a man my age, in fact damn good. And miniature cock or not, I still made it my business to do the best I could for the woman I was with. What was not to love, right?

The upshot? First dates and second dates I got, third dates not so much. And as far as getting lucky? Once in the first year after the divorce. In the second year, having become more than a little desperate, and tired of the games. I took my search for pussy to the next level: I began hiring escorts. They were always nice and the sex was always okay—it should have been at $300 a night. But of course, a true relationship was not happening with any of them. I had become what my ex had more or less predicted, a loser, at least when it came to women.

But make no mistake, there were plenty of women who were willing to become missus Dalton, to sacrifice themselves for the good of the cause: the cause being a much improved standard of living. But, I wanted someone real, someone who actually liked me with the distinct possibility of falling in love with me; hence, I was picky; rightly or wrongly, I felt that I had to be. So, I was careful. I always had the women who seemed to be on the up-and-up checked out: one hundred percent of them failed the check up.

The love of my life gone, and reduced to hiring friendly girls of the evening to keep me company—read to get my rocks off—my personal life sucked; life sucked.

One genuine piece of ass in three years; and she'd been as drunk as I was or it probably wouldn't have happened. I wanted to cry. Then the inevitable happened.

"Dad?" said Melanie. "You know, graduation is in two weeks. Barbie and I will be getting our B.A.s."

"Yes, baby, I know. I'll be there," I said. I hadn't seen Marianne in so long that I had momentarily forgotten that she would surely want to be there too even though it had been me who had footed the $200K to see our babies successfully negotiate the halls of academia.

"Dad, can mom come?" said Melanie. I could feel my face darken.

"Sure, but I won't, Melanie. I can't face her, even after all of this time. I just can't," I said.

"Dad, she promised not to bring him. He's staying home, away from us," said Barbie, finally chiming in. I had to smile at that. It must have pissed the asshole off to be shut out by his cuckold. But, could I face Marianne even so?

"He won't be there? That's iron clad?" I said.

"Yes," squealed the girls anticipating my giving in.

I nodded. "Okay then," I said. The celebration of my capitulation was animated, but in the back of my mind I harbored misgivings. Even with the asshole out of the picture—seeing her again—how would I deal with it? Could I deal with it? I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure at all.

She was seated at one end of a five seat row, I at the other. I looked at her once or twice and found her not quite staring at me. I felt giddy, but I don't think I gave away my nervousness by anything my face said.

Over the course of some hour and a half, the graduates made speeches, paraded across the dais to receive their sheepskins; then, came the cheering and the hugging and the mandatory screaming; and finally, the parents.

The girls literally dragged me over to where she was waiting. She looked glamorous. God did she. Long tawny locks, specially curled for the occasion; white sundress sheathing her five-nine 120lb frame; her C-cups threatening indecent exposure; oh my, how good she did look. In spite of myself or the focus of the occasion, I was as hard as a rock. And well I might have been; I hadn't had a piece of ass in almost five months. It wasn't the money; it was my disgust with myself for being unable to find a woman who didn't require it before allowing me to do her. Those types were a nickel a busload, but someone who was turned on by my charm and potential bedroom skills did not seem to exist in the sentient universe. I almost asked her if she was still willing to grant me a little mercy. Humiliation or not; I needed it; I needed her. But I didn't ask her. No indeed. I maintained my self-respect, my shredded ego, and my overwhelming horniness as well.

We each congratulated the girls and hugged them and got the mandatory kisses from them as they squealed their happiness. I think that they were as happy, that Marianne and I were together in the same place, as they were about their academic achievements. But, soon they were making their apologies and running off to their parties and boyfriends—yeah they had them, I knew—and they, the boy friends, were twins too.

My ex and I were left standing there and to our own devices. I gave a small wave to Marianne and was turning to leave when she addressed me. "How are things with you, Jimmy? Well, I hope," she said.

"Okay, I guess. With you?" I said.

"Could be better actually," she said.

"Oh?"

"It's hard, Jimmy, never being able to even mention your name around the girls or to even enquire about you. And, then there is Marcus: a good man, who is allowed no slack by the girls because of your intransigence," she said.

I stared at her for a moment. "So, what do you want from me, Marianne," I said.

"It'd be nice if you'd lighten up little. Okay, I betrayed our love. I couldn't help it, but it was my doing, and I am so sorry for hurting you. I've told you, and I'll say it again: I really would like to make it up to you at least to some small degree, Jim. That, if only to make myself feel better, if not you. I've suffered enough, Jim, please grant me a little mercy—to use your words."

"I'll lighten up as far as the girls are concerned, Marianne. But, the other… " I couldn't finish what I wanted to say. She picked up on it; I could see it in her look.

"Jim?"

"I gotta go, Marianne. I gotta go." I just turned and walked off. I could feel her staring at my back as I made my way to the parking lot some distance away.

**

Another year passed; the fourth since my personal marital Armageddon. Days filled with work—long days by choice. The nights? Lonely and filled with her—thoughts of her—and Jose Cuervo.

The girls had kept their promise. They never spoke of her to me when we visited. And, I supposed that they never spoke of me to her. I had to think that they knew I wasn't over her: they made my visits to them, and theirs to me, especially busy, or seemed to: their modus operandi to keep my mind on them. It worked to a certain extent.

One lonely night, an especially bad and lonely night, I made up my mind. I called up Dory. We'd kept in kind of loose contact since our meeting that one time in the bar. We met fairly often over coffee now, and the occasional drink and talked about everything that there was to talk about. Over time she let me in on her personal life; well, she'd pretty much heard all about mine, so why not.

Dory had been married four times. She had no children: she couldn't; her plumbing wasn't intact, hadn't been since birth. Regardless, she was pretty and men flocked around her sniffing like cur dogs looking for an easy piece. Two of her ex-hubbies had cheated on her with coworkers; she'd dumped them forthwith. Those first two marriages had netted her nothing except in the case of hubby number two, she had gotten the house; she still lived in it.

It had been Dory that had done the cheating in the cases of husbands three and four, and she wasn't especially apologetic about it. After the first two she'd made the conscious decision not to be the last to cheat. If her husbands were going to do it; she was going to do it first if only to save a little face. The problem with that was her last two hubbies had never cheated and evidently had not had any intention of doing so, so they—the husbands—had dumped her upon discovering her. Now she was, to paraphrase Coleridge, a sadder but wiser woman. Well, wiser at any rate: Dory seemed to be able to roll with the proverbial punch. I could only wish for a disposition anywhere near as equitable as hers.

Dory was, as she said, a sales person now. Her product: herself. She was a part time escort, not especially expensive, but fairly selective even at her age, which was my age. I'd bridled at her telling me that. She claimed it was the only thing she could do that paid anything, and she had been smart and saved. She was fairly well off now, and able to laugh at her past; something that I still was not able to do, and certain in my heart that I never would.

At any rate, I needed someone to talk to. I needed advice.

She let herself in. Yeah, she had a key. She was the only female that I could call a friend—and critic. Oh, and for the record, no I had never fucked her.

I was sitting in front of the fireplace. The winter cold was threatening to become winter white—real white.

"Hi stud," she said, as she plopped down into the chair opposite me. Her teasing was never appreciated, but, she, as she said, was training me to deal with women the right way; which as she also said, I didn't and wasn't.

"What happened to wimp?" I said.

"Oh, you're still a wimp, but one with hope at this point," she said, smiling. That began the most serious conversation that she and I had ever had.

"So you think I should, then," I said.

"What have you got to lose, young man," she said. "Like she said, it's pussy. You need it; she has it, so use it. I have to think that she would really like to have you back if only part time. That Marcus guy, mister big dick, may be master in the bedroom, but he ain't got a whole lot else to offer if everything you say is so."

I nodded and was momentarily lost in thought. "But, what if… " Dory cut me off in mid-sentence.

"What if what," she said. "Maybe she's changed her mind. Maybe she doesn't have time for you after all. Maybe she'll laugh at you and send you on your way, or maybe her lover will put the boff on things. So what. You gonna feel all that much worse than you have these past few years, or for that matter than you do now? You need it, Jimmy, so risk it?

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here big guy. The answer is no; you won't feel worse than you do now. Hey, if she or they show their true colors and treat you like shit; hell, you will at least finally know how it is with her and be able to unload her memory and get on with your life. At worst, the way I see it, you'll feel the same as you do now. And, the odds are, the way I see it, you'll feel a lot better. And, if it matters, likely so will she, feel better I mean." I nodded.

"Okay, Dory. I guess you're right. I hope your right. I sure need you to be right," I said.

"I am," she said. "I am absolutely right. I've seen too much of this stuff not to know what's going on when I see it. Fuck, I shoulda been a psychologist." I laughed.

"Yeah, you'd have made a good one," I said. "I'll make the call."

**

I was afraid I'd chicken out if I waited. I made the call while Dory sat across from me sipping her drink. I wasn't sure, but I thought she was smirking.

The phone rang several times. A man answered. I hung up—fast. I paced frenetically back and forth in front of the phone. "Shit!" I said.

"What?" said Dory, now with an unabashed amused look on her face.

"He answered," I said. "The mother fucker answered." Dory raised an eyebrow.

"Jimmy, he's her husband. He lives there. Of course there was a chance that he would answer the phone. According to you, she said he was okay with her fucking you once in a while. So, so what. Call her back, Jimmy, and ask for her if he answers. Just do it. Give them, her, the chance to do what she promised, or, to shine you on and give themselves up for what they really are," said Dory.

I was saved the embarrassment of having to call her twice. My phone rang less than two minutes after I'd hung up.

"Hello?" I said.

"Jimmy? Is that you?" said the female voice on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, it's me, Marianne," I said. My voice had to be betraying my discomfort and likely my need.

"Did you call a few minutes ago, Jim. The caller ID was not one I recognized, but I thought…"

"Yes, it was me, I hung up because… " I said.

"You hung up because, Marcus answered," she said. I didn't answer for a long moment. She waited me out.

"Yes," I said.

"Jim, it's okay, you can call me anytime you want," she said. "Jim, is there something—you know—something I can do for you?"

"Marianne—I'll—I'll take the mercy fuck you offered me," I said. "I mean if the offer is still good." I could almost sense her smiling even over the phone.

"Good," she said, "I meant it when I said that there was no expiration date to my offer.

"Jimmy, I really was hoping that at some point you'd let me—well—you know. When would be good for you, Jim. I'm open. I don't work, so I'm open to any time you want, Jimmy." I swallowed hard.

"Uh—Marianne—would tonight. I mean…"

"You mean now, Jimmy? Well of course you mean now. What am I thinking; a man always means now when it comes to…

"Now would be fine, no problem. Uh—could you come here to do it, Jim. Marcus has the car, and he's gone out tonight." she said. I was immediately faced with a dilemma. Would he be around, I mean after she and I were in the middle of stuff?

"Uh—would your husband be coming… " I said.

"No, Jim, he's gone for the evening. We will be alone no problem. But, even if he does come home. He knows that you and I might at some point be getting it on. He's fine with it.

"We have kind of an open marriage, Jim. He's out with another woman even as we speak. So, you and I should be fine," she said. I held the phone away from me. He was out cheating on her! No, not cheating, but definitely spreading his pollen on the wind. What the hell kind of marriage had my ex gotten herself into.

"Okay, Marianne, I'll be there in half an hour," I said. I was nervous and it showed. Dory was grinning wide now.

"So, she's going to keep her promise, well, this one at any rate," she said. I nodded.

"Dory, I haven't been this nervous since my first time. I mean it. I'm scared to death. What if I get there and can't get it up! Jesus! I would never be able to live it down. Maybe this was a bad idea," I said.

"Jimmy," she was suddenly serious. "Be cool. Calm down. You have nothing to worry about. Women know how to get a man to loosen up and get it done. You just have to let the lady do the leading this time around. I know it's been hard for you; and, I am pretty sure she knows too. But at least you know her. You have that going for you," she said. At some point I had to do something for this wonderful girl.

"Okay," I said. I was shaking, but I knew this was it; I was going to do it. I was going to let my ex-wife, the woman who betrayed me for a bigger dick, help me salvage something, and the odd part, I didn't even know what the something was—maybe my sanity.

"Dory?" I said.

"Yes?" she said.

"Would you stay here tonight. When I get home; well—"

She looked at me funny. "Okay, I can do that," she said. "We'll talk in the morning."

"Good," I said. "Really, really good!"

**

I stood in front of the door. The door that used to be mine. It used to be mine, was for some sixteen years of my marriage to Marianne; but this night it was a stranger's house. I hadn't been back in the neighborhood since the divorce, hadn't wanted to. But now—here I was. I knocked.

The door opened. She was beautiful, beautiful beyond words. Oh how I still loved this woman. I loved her still, and here I was essentially begging her let me have her, at least a little bit of her, something I'd turned down those four years ago. I wanted to kill Marcus Williams. Yes, I know, she was as guilty as him. And me? Yes, I was guilty too; it'd been my idiot idea that had brought about the destruction of my marriage to this woman.

"Please come in, Jim," she said. If I'd had to describe it, her tone was kindly. I nodded and entered.

She was dressed in a sheer, white day dress and heels. The dress came to just above her knees. No jewelry, makeup perfect: lips so red they started a fire in my loins. The smell of her! God she was something. Worries about me being able to get it up disappeared like burst soap bubbles. "Place looks nice," I said, trying not to appear too desperate. She smiled.

"Thank you, Jimmy. A lot of the credit for that goes to you whether you know it or not."

"Me?" I had no clue what she was talking about.

"The money you send each month. It has been a big help, Jim. You are such a wonderful man. I curse the day ever I hurt you. You deserve better than me, Jim, a lot better." I just tendered her, what I was sure, was a sheepish smile.

"Anyway, between what Marcus makes and what you send, we do okay. I just want you to know that it is appreciated; I know you don't have to be doing it. So, it is appreciated, believe me."

"Thanks, but forget it. It's just something I want to do," I said. She looked down. It was the moment of truth. Neither of us knew exactly what to do. The moment stretched into a long moment. She took me by the hand and led me into the den. Two martinis, already poured, and an iced shaker of refills were on the table. She picked one up and handed it to me. I was grateful; I needed a drink; I needed it bad. Picking up hers, she held it in front of her.

"A toast," she said, "to this night. One I have waited so long for." I knew what she said was the truth; it was not an act. This might be a mercy fuck I was getting, but she wasn't seeing it that way, not at all; she wanted me. Then everything came crashing down.

The front door slammed. And a falling down drunk Marcus Williams came stumbling in on us. He looked amused. We, for our parts, still holding our martinis after having touched glasses and taken our first sip, just stared.

"So you really are going to give dinky dick some relief," he managed to say kinda slow. "Well, I did give you my permission. Just use the guest room, okay. I'm not feeling too good, and I need to get my rest.

He started to stumble away, turned, looked at the stunned duo in front of him, us, and said something that I will never forget as long as I live.

"Tell me, Jimmy boy, is it true that you haven't had but one free piece of ass in all of the time since I came into the picture? I can imagine you really need what you're going to get tonight." Not waiting for an answer, probably already forgetting what he'd even said, he turned and headed upstairs presumably to go to bed. I felt frozen in time. How could he possibly have known what he obviously knew? There could be only one way; I'd be talking to Dory.

"Jim, I am so sorry. He wasn't supposed to be here. We—he and I—had an agreement. He could go out and have some fun, and you and I… " She was talking fast; I interrupted her.

"Uh—Marianne. I have to go. It just—I have to go. I'm sorry too," I said. I put my drink down, turned and walked out. I walked as in a trance. I could hear her in her heels clacking on the hardwood floor as she came after me. She caught me at the door.

"Jim, let's go to your place!" she said quickly. I stopped and looked at her. I felt like I was going to cry.

"No, no. I'm afraid I'm—well—not in the mood anymore, Marianne. I really need to go. To be alone. I need to be alone. I'm okay, just—don't call me, really." With that I was gone.

On the way home I did cry—big time. If I'd hated what Marcus Williams did to me before, now I hated the man himself. Yet, that said, I wasn't so myopic that I didn't re-realize my own part in the destruction of my love life and, if the truth were to be known, my psyche. They say that there is always one good thing to look forward to when one hits rock bottom. I figured I was due; I sure as hell was at rock bottom.

**

Marianne:

I stared at the door he didn't quite slam as he left me standing there. I was furious, not at Jimmy. No, he, as usual was guiltless in all of this. I know he blamed himself for the fantasy thing that led to everything else, but after that it was all me, me and the asshole upstairs.

Mister Marcus Williams had a very thick eight-inch cock, and it was a thrill a minute riding it, but except for that he had of late become the very definition of an asshole. He hadn't been at first, but he had become one in recent times, and I was on the verge of dumping his open-marriage ass.

He and I had agreed to an open marriage soon after we'd tied the knot. And, to be honest, I had at first played almost as much as he had. But, that's all it was for me, playing. There was never the slightest emotional attachment to any of those men, and I knew, or thought I knew, that such was the case with Marcus as well.

Here I was, forty-nine years old, and no one to love; well, except for the twins of course. And—Jimmy. But, I'd lost Jimmy. I knew for sure he hated me now. He'd hate Marcus more, I was sure, but I was going to definitely be collateral damage in that regard, and that beyond a shadow of a doubt! After I got done crying my eyes out, I was going to go upstairs and tell the asshole that he and I were quits.

**

"Whaddya mean we're quits. You love me, I know you do. That wimp should never have been here in the first place. Yeah, I know you felt sorry for him, but he's the past; we're the here and now. Get real, Marianne, deal with it. I did him a favor tonight," said Marcus. He wasn't quite slurring his words.

"Go to hell, Marcus, What you did to that good man tonight was way over the top. For the record I blame myself too. I sold out my love for a bigger dick four years ago; I just hadn't realized until tonight that I'd gotten a dickhead in bargain too. So, get the fuck off of that bed and go. The next time I see you will be divorce court."

"What? Leave? Now? We're married. I live here. I have rights," he said.

"You're going, and I don't care where you go. I just don't want to see you again. To paraphrase you: get real, Marcus, and deal with it. And, in case you really don't get it, this is not your house; it's mine. I got it in the divorce. You have no claim on anything here but your clothes and personal stuff. Pack 'em and get out."

I watched as he packed his things. He was muttering the whole time. Something about pussy being easy to find and that I was replaceable; well, so the fuck was he.

**

I wasted no time looking for Dory when I got home. She had to have been the one to be talking to Marcus. And why would she do that. She was my friend, or so I thought. I wanted answers, and I was not going to wait till morning.

I heard her in the kitchen. "Hi," I said. I'd startled her. She turned around looking big-eyed and surprised.

"Jimmy! I thought—it didn't go well did it," she said.

"No. No it didn't. Her hubby came home and pretty much destroyed me, at least in terms of my being able to do anything remotely romantic," I said.

"What did he do?" she said.

"Belittled me and asked me if it was true that I had only had one free piece of ass in the past four years," I said. "Kinda put the boff on my gettin' it up with Marianne, if you know what I mean." I sank into a chair at the kitchen table.

"He said that?" said Dory.

"Yeah, he did," I said.

"Why would he ask a question like that?"

"Don't know. You and I were the only ones who knew that that was true," I said. "So, I don't know how he ever would have found out." I saw her face pale.

"Jimmy—I—I was watching out for you. I met with the man, some weeks ago, told him he better not mess with you, or he'd have me to deal with," she said. I know my look must have alarmed her.

"You know him!" I said, a little louder than I should have.

"Jim, please don't be angry with me. I was just trying to make sure he stayed out the way of you and Marianne in case you did manage to get together. You'd been talkin' like you were kinda thinkin' about it; and I was afraid the asshole would fuck it up. Well, I was right about that, I guess.

"Jim, Marcus—well Marcus and I—he was my second husband, Jim. He's a complete asshole. I knew that if you and Marianne got together even with his permission, as you said, he would likely do something to ruin it.

"Now, you fucking tell me that!" I said.

"I know, I know. But, I felt that you didn't need the distraction, and I sure as hell didn't need the painful questions. Jim, Marcus can be, and usually is, smooth and easy going when you first meet him, but anyone who knows him well will tell you he's a regular sonovabitch when it comes to other people's feelings," she said.

"And you told him what I told you in confidence. Is that it Dory?" I said.

"Sort of. I told him you hadn't had any but the one time after Marianne and he got together, and he better not get in the way. I reminded him that I knew where his skeletons are buried, and that I would have no problem leading certain people to them if he caused any trouble. Which, if it is any consolation, I am certainly going to do. Mister Williams has just stepped into a neck deep pile of horse pucky."

"Jesus!"

"I was trying to help, Jim. I really was. I guess that this time my mouth outran my brain.

"Can I ask, how did Marianne react?" she said.

"I'm not sure how to explain it. She said she was sorry for the thing. She said she wanted to bring the games here. But, I'd kinda lost interest by then, if you get my drift," I said.

"She didn't take his side, try to cover for him? Anything like that?" said Dory.

"No. I guess not," I said. Dory's smile was almost cathartic—for me.

"Call her. Call her now. Tell her to come over. Go get her if she doesn't have a car. I mean it. This is the moment, Jim. Seize it. What did that old philosopher say a million years ago: 'Seize the moment'?"

"The day," I said, still sounding down in the dumps.

"Huh?" she said.

"The day, 'Carpe Diem,' is what he said, 'Seize the day,' his name was Horace, an ancient Roman." She looked at me strangely.

"Oh, okay.

"Regardless, call her, call her now, while I am here watching to make sure you do it," she said.

"But—I don't know… " I stalled.

"Jimmee!" she said, not letting up on the pressure.

"Okay, okay." I picked up the receiver and dialed. I was more than a little afraid, I mean really afraid.

**

"Hello?" she said.

"It's me. Can you come here?" I said. There was momentary silence on her end. I spoke first.

"Oh, okay. Sorry. I know it has to be tough for you with him. Forget I asked. I'll be fine," I said. I started to hang up.

"Jimmy, no! I can't talk. Jimmy he's threatened me. I can't come," she said.

"I'm coming over," I said, and I did hang up. She'd sounded frightened. I was worried.

Dory had heard every word. "He's hurt her?" she said.

"Maybe. She said he was angry and not letting her out of the house. I'm heading over there. I'll be kicking some black ass if he's hurt her, depend on it," I said. Dory looked at me but said nothing. I was already grabbing my Coat and didn't see her grab the phone.

**

I tried the front door and it opened. As far as I knew, the man hadn't actually hit her, so I wasn't prepared for what first greeted my eyes. She was a mess; her face was a black and blue and a bloodstained mess. He had his back to me at first, but his head snapped around as soon as he heard me slam the door; I'd done that to get his attention away from the cowering form of my ex-wife.

"Well, if it isn't peewee—dick I mean. Obviously you're a big strong heman in other respects," he laughed.

I didn't hesitate, I rushed him and my right fist connected with his neck. Yeah, I missed his jaw: well, I was excited. He countered with several right-left combinations. I stumbled back over the couch, and fell in a heap behind it. I was able to get up, and I went after him again, just not a quickly as before. I delivered a right haymaker that killed the air around him. He on the other hand began my systematic destruction.

Almost, but not quite out of it, I lay on the floor gasping for breath and fighting to remain conscious. I had to get her out of there and to safety. I had to. There was some commotion—very loud commotion. The next thing I knew I was staring at the forest green walls of a room I didn't recognize.

"Nurse!" someone called. That explained the room. Fuck! The guy had won. I had to find out about her. I tried to get out of the bed, but fell back. I soon found myself restrained by the delicate hands of a too young nurse.

"Please sir, please, lay back. Try to be calm. The doctor will be here in a moment," said the teenie bopper.

"My wi…!" I said. "I mean Marianne Williams."

"Not for long," said a familiar voice.

"Marianne! Are you okay," I said, my eyes flooding with happiness. "You're okay, right?"

"Yes, my hero; I'm fine. I'm really fine, and I owe it all to you my hero," she said. I lay back then. I was satisfied. Somehow, I didn't know exactly how but somehow, I must have rallied and nailed the bastard. Tomorrow, tomorrow I would ask the questions or whatever. For the moment I needed to sleep. Oh yes, sleep was the thing.

**

The nursing corps was taking very good care of me. I got smiles from all of them, and there must have been ten of them which worried me. That much help had to mean I was worse off than I at first thought.

"How are you sailor?" said Marianne, as she approached my bed. She was followed by Barbie and Melanie and two giants.

"Okay," I said. "How are you, ex-wife?" I said trying to smile. She gave me a look I could not decipher.

"I'm fine, Jimmy. I'm fine because of you. You stopped him. I was afraid Jimmy, and suddenly you were there. You were there to save me. Jimmy, I am so ashamed of the way I have behaved in the past.

"The doctors say you're going to be fine. Thank God, Melanie and Barbie arrived at just the right time to keep him from beating on you," she said.

"Mel, Mel and Barbie? They stopped him from…"

"Well, not exactly them; it was their fiancées: Dexter and Henry." She motioned toward the two giants.

"Yeah, dad, said Melanie. Dex and Hank took mister Williams apart in sections," she squealed her pride in the two behind her.

"I'd noticed that they were big guys, And I realized that they were also twins. Measuring them with my eyes. I estimated them to be about six-five and three hundred—each! It must have been a real surprise for mister Williams to see the two of them.

"Yeah dad, they play for State; they're offensive linemen. Real god ones, dad," said Barbie.

"I guess I owe you guys. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you coming in in the second quarter like that and bailing me out," I said

"That's okay, mister Dalton. We hate guys like him. Woman beaters ain't got no hope around us," said one of the twins. I smiled my approval.

I saw a movement near the door. "Dory!" I said. Suddenly, it all came together. Dory had to have called the girls. They'd then called their boyfriends or maybe they were with them at the time. "You had a hand in this didn't you?" She shrugged.

**

I was under medical observation for three days. Marianne was the one who showed up to take me home—and she was alone.

"Where's everybody else?" I said.

"Home, I suppose," she said. I gave her a look.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Marianne?" I said.

"Well—no. Not exactly. It's just that, well, we never did have our little date. I kinda thought that maybe, well—maybe… " she was acting real strange, but I wasn't such a numbskull that I didn't get what she was hinting at."

"Fuckin'-A," I said. "Don't break any laws, but get us there in the least possible time lapse. Okay?"

"Absolutely," she said. "I have never wanted to be fucked by any man so badly as I wanna be fucked by you today; and you can take that to the bank, mister."

**

We lay clutching each over, seemingly almost glued together. The crack of dawn cracked, and I stretched and looked over at my sleeping ex. Even with her face still showing the bruising that the asshole had done to her, she was beautiful. She was the only woman for me. The best news was my rocks were pretty well drained.

We'd gone four times the night before and only quit because I wasn't able to get it up for number five. But the woody I was sporting at the moment was a clear indication that I was by no means unable now. But—oddly—I was nervous about asking her again. My insecurities. Sure she'd let me have her, and enthusiastically. But why? Because I was her hero? I didn't want to be her hero; I wanted to be her lover. And, I was convinced I never could be, not for the long haul. While my near suicide in trying to ward of mister Williams was fresh, sure; her gratitude was boundless. I was her hero. But what about a year from now? Would my sacrifice, my try, to protect her still mean as much? Did it matter?

Her eyes fluttered open. I tried to read her undefended thoughts. "Hi," she said. "Was—you know—was it good for you?" I nodded.

"I needed it," I said, trying to smile and not look phony doing it. She wrinkled her brow.

"Jimmy? Are we okay?"

"Sure. Sure we are. It was great last night," I said. She looked at me and her eyes kinda narrowed.

"We need to get a few things straightened out. Don't we," she said.

"No, we're fine?' I said. "No more talk."

"Jim, I can sense it, something, in your look and tone. We need to get some things straightened out, made clear. I want you, Jimmy; and I want you to want me. I need you to want me," she said. "You're worried that I might, you know, might not stay with you. Or, that I might cheat on you even if I did. Because of, well because of the same reason as last time." I didn't say anything. She'd hit the nail on the head. She knew what I was thinking and there was no way that I could deny it, not credibly.

"Marianne, I will always be there for you. I love you so much and nothing on earth will ever change that. But—knowing how much you need, well, what you need; and knowing that I can't supply it; well, it's always going to be the insoluble problem, the impossible dream," I said.

"Jimmy, it might have been the impossible dream before. Heck, I guess it was. But that was then and this is now.

"Last night I concentrated on what I was getting from you. Not on the size of your thingy, but on what you were doing. I realized that I had never done that before. And, something else I realized. Marcus, even with his oversized tool, never really made me feel safe and loved. Excited sometimes, satisfied all of the time—sexually—but never safe or loved. Do you have any idea how important those two things are to a woman? Trust me, they are right at the top of the list," she said.

"There are two things you can take to the bank, James Dalton. Two absolutes. One: Late at night, there will be times, that I will very likely be thinking about big cocks and how wonderful they feel. Can't escape that truth, Jimmy, try as I might; I can't. Two: I will never ever cheat on you, Jimmy—never ever. You've got me as you should have had all along. And I am going to do my best, my very best to prove to you that you are more than enough man for me or for any woman. I mean it, Jim," she said. I nodded my understanding.

"I know you do, Marianne. And, I know, or at least I think I know, that you will never cheat on me. But, I have a problem," I said.

"Huh? A problem? What problem?" said Marianne.

"I want you to be totally happy. I do not want you to have to dream about big cocks and have to know that you can never have one again. Also, I want to be happy. I need to be happy too. I need to know that your pussy, and only your pussy, will be available to me for the rest of my life; or, at least as long as I can still get it up." I was smiling and she followed suit.

"But, Marianne, I don't have a big cock; I have an embarrassingly little one. One that can never satisfy you—never. Talk about catch-22's. I need your pussy, but I can never satisfy you or it. Put another way, you simply must have big cocks to be completely happy, and again, there is no way I will ever have one.

"So, I have made a decision. Marianne, I will be your wimpy cuckold husband. You can have the occasional big dick to satisfy you, which will take the pressure off me worrying about when you might leave me again for a man who has one. I…"

"Jimmy, I swear to you, you are enough… " she started.

"No. Don't swear. Just let me do the leading this time. It has to be me. You're not very good at it," I said. I was serious now, and she looked—what—stunned.

"Jimmy?"

"Are we good?" I said.

"I guess so," she said. "But…"

"But nothing, no buts. And, don't get your panties all in a wad, woman, we won't be doing it much; but, when we do, it will be memorable. Like it should have been all along."

**

"His name's Michael," I said. "It's for tomorrow night. We won't be starting out slow, Marianne. It's gonna be the whole enchilada from the git-go," I said. "Everything, just like we've planned."

"Jimmy, I'm excited, but a little scared too," said Marianne. "Are you sure about this, about him?"

"As sure as I can be. If he turns out to be flaky, we'll send him on his way and look for someone until we find a guy who fills the bill. Okay?" I said. She just nodded.

**

The new doorbell, one we'd recently installed, announced our visitor.

Marianne looked gorgeous. Tall, slim, hair billowing around her face and shoulders, dark sheath dress augmented by five-inch spikes. Her makeup was salon perfect, and I knew from very personal knowledge that her pussy was waxed bare. God this woman was hot.

I opened the door and allowed the visitor in. "God evening, Michael," I said.

"Good evening, Mr. Dalton," said the young man. And young was the operative term: he was twenty-three. He was also tall, blond, blue-eyed, and built like a Phidian god. In his pants he carried something that would make Marcus Williams act respectful.

"This is the beauty you told me about," he said. I nodded. "You sure didn't exaggerate.

"Good evening ma'am," he said.

"Good evening to you, Michael. And thank you for your kind words," said Marianne.

"How about a drink first?" I said. I got affirmative nods for my suggestion from both parties. I served the drinks and when I got the signal from Marianne that she was okay with the man, I assumed my role, the one we'd agreed to and with the limits we'd established.

We'll take our drinks out to the patio, cucky," she said, "then you need to adjourn to the bedroom until called upon."

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

They turned and headed out, me following with their drinks.

Michael smiled but did not smirk. He did slide his arms round her waist and kissed her lightly on her cheek as they walked. The words between them were in whispers.

Placing the drinks on the little table beside them, I made to leave and head for the bedroom as I had been instructed, but hesitated a moment and watched them. I guess I was staring.

I noticed his hands roaming a little but very lightly over her breasts and belly.

She looked over at me. "You have to leave now," she said. "We, Michael and I, need some private time." I looked down. This was going to be the hard part for me. Well, until she would call for me later on that is.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I headed for the house and the bedroom where she had told me I needed to station myself.

**

Marianne:

I worried—big time! We were doing it, testing the waters. I was very aware that sending my husband upstairs, as I had, to await his fate was risky. But, I counted it a greater risk to have him close up and personal for the opening gambits. Oh, I knew he'd be watching us from the upstairs window, but that is quite a bit removed from him being close enough to hear us, feel us, smell us. I was shaken from my reverie by Michael.

"Can we find a place a little more private to, you know?" he said.

"Of course," I said. I let him help me up from the two-person chaise longue. We headed inside for the downstairs guest room. Into the house, I let him pass me for a moment, as I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up toward the master bedroom, where I knew my husband was even then squirming in the cock cage I'd locked him into three days before. I needed him to be ultra horny, so he'd agreed to allow me to lock him up. He'd been virtually climbing the walls ever since; that was my edge.

This night was planned to be an all out night of sex and cuckolding and—yes—humiliation for Jimmy. He was my wimp, my willing wimp, for these hours, this night; but afterwards… I'd be rewarding him like he'd never been rewarded! I'd sworn to myself to make sure that happened.

But for now, I had to be careful, very careful. Cuckolds like my Jimmy were volatile, fragile. I was determined to bring him along slowly this time and any future time, if it came to that, and this and those with affection and love and consideration for his delicate feelings. No more risking what happened before, no more of that ever! I needed and wanted my husband for the things he could do, his insecurities notwithstanding. He was twice the man Marcus had ever been, and my current big cock, Michael; well, he wasn't even a grown man yet. He was a handsome boy though. He'd do for the evening, and that would be it for him.

I noticed Michael waiting for me at the end of the hall. He looked impatient. Good, I wanted him to be wanting me, to do a little squirming of his own while waiting. He was anxious to stick his cock into me. Well, I was anxious to feel it too, and that you could take to the bank

I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the hall mirror before joining him. I heard him snicker at that.

He was already lying on the bed legs crossed when I entered just a few seconds behind him. I smiled and posed for him.

"Make my screwing memorable," I said.

"Depend on it," he said.

**

Epilog:

Marianne and I are still walking softly when it comes to our mutual interest in cuckolding and in sex generally. We are determined to do it right this time around.

Marcus was sentenced to a year for the savage beating he'd inflicted on Marianne. He was out in seven months. We never heard from him again. I had to imagine that that was because of the indelible impression that Dexter and Henry had left him with.

As mentioned before, Michael was to have been a one shot bull, but that changed after that night. He was invited back several times over the next year; but, that ended when he enlisted. He's now God knows where, and we are searching for a replacement. But, we're not in a hurry. Once a month or so we go out looking. So far nada, but we'll find a replacement sooner or later. We're just not rushing it.

We communicate a lot and in depth. It is working for us. Sex between us is good, very good. We plan to keep it that way.

Oh, and the girls are happy—and relieved. They are planning on a double wedding in the near future. That should be interesting as heck—and expensive. Oh well, they're our babies.

-----------------------------

   Series:Bitterness
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Bitterness and redemption
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/59856/bitterness
Published:2009-03-22
I stood there in the shadows watching them. Stunned? Oh no, much worse than stunned, I was destroyed. My wife of twenty-six years was naked and on her knees, in front of our living room couch, sucking him off. Him? He's her boss at the William's Travel Agency. I never had a clue.

I had decided to come home for lunch. Trace went home every day at noon; she only worked mornings. I had intended to surprise her, yes it's a cliché; hell it's the cliché of clichés that a cheated on spouse shows up where he or she is least expected and ends up crying his or her eyes out. Well, I knew that would be me soon enough. Oh yeah, who am I…

I'm Jesse Pearson, age forty-six. I'm a financial planner at a local bank. My wife? Tracy Pearson, age forty-five. We're what I would describe as an average couple, we do okay financially, and we get along well in and out of bed. Me personally? I'm five-eight, my brown hair's thinned a lot over the years, but I think I look okay; I take care of myself. Her? Pretty, especially for her age, at least I think so. Evidently so does Hank, uh Henry, Williams, her boss: black, six-three, two-fifty, certified asshole.

I am watching something surreal, at least to me. He's lifted her up off her knees now and has settled her up on the couch, again on her knees, butt towards him. I watch as he pushes into her. I snap another picture; I do love these cell phones; they do so much more than enable conversation. There was an irony in that, I mean in the cell pics: they were the proof I needed.

Tracy's parents and grandparents-on both sides-had divorced because of infidelity; evidently it was something in the genes or water or something. But, as fortune would dictate, before she would marry me, she made me go with her to a lawyer. I had to sign a prenup. It stated that if either of us was caught in infidelity, the other would get everything. She wasn't taking any chances she had told me the night I'd proposed, not with the history her family had. The history? In all four divorces referred to, it had been the men cheating and the women hurt. Well, she sure as hell had reversed that trend, and I had incontrovertible proof of it. Oh, and for the record, I had never even thought about cheating on her. I had righteousness on my side; something I was discovering didn't mean fuck in affairs of the heart. God, how I was hurting! But, I wasn't so hurt or so stunned that I couldn't think.

My marriage was very likely over. Our two kids, Melanie and Mark, both off at college a hundred miles away, would be upset, I was sure; but life is what it is. I would be talking to them soon.

I slipped out and away. I had to think long and hard about how to play this. I considered crashing their party, but the guy cuckolding me might well have killed me; he was so fucking big! But, that wasn't even the main reason I was sneaking out with my tail between my legs. I was purely afraid that she might tell me that she didn't love me anymore. Suspecting it, even knowing it, was one thing; but hearing it from her would have been infinitely worse, oh yes far worse. Yes okay, my marriage probably was over, but I loved her, needed her. I just didn't know what to do, not yet at any rate.

I had taken care of a few things after having left them to their pleasures at lunch. First, back at work, I downloaded the pictures I'd taken of them to my work computer. I had also done some checking. Mister Williams it seems had his accounts at our bank! I was pretty sure he had, but I wasn't totally sure; my work had little to do with floor operations; my job is to handle stock trades and high end loans.

I knew I couldn't touch his accounts; there are laws, but I was pretty sure that if he would cuckold a man in his own home that he would probably cheat in other ways too, maybe on his taxes or on his business associates or perhaps even on his own family; hell, he'd already done this last. I'd know very shortly about any of the rest of it. I was going to bring Mr. Williams down if I could, and I was pretty sure I could.

And then there was Tracy. I was going to get everything anyway, but I was going to make sure. I put in a seal order on our safe deposit box; that's where we kept one set of the original prenup papers; Matt Grossman, our lawyer, had the other. I took care of some other banking stuff: transferring funds and killing cards and then I relaxed. I may have been her cuckold, and his, but they were not going to profit from it, and I wasn't going to slip quietly into the night either. There would soon be a typhoon of shit for the two of them to deal with.

The work day over, I headed out to Tribes, my favorite bar. It was there that I made the decision. I would try to save the marriage. I would find out somehow whether or not she loved me, whether this was just a onetime thing. Okay, I knew in my heart it probably wasn't, but I didn't know for sure. I had to know for sure-I mean twenty-six years!

I waved goodbye to Fyfe, the barkeep, threw a ten down on the bar, and headed out.

I parked in the garage. I could smell the stew she was making even in there.

"Hi honey," she said. "How was your day?"

She seemed almost happy to see me. "A little rugged, but okay, I guess. Smells good," I said.

She seemed pleased at my words. I guess if she was going to give herself away to another man, she wanted to make sure I was happy in other respects. Well, the game wasn't over yet. The next hours would tell the tale. But, all of that could wait until I had had dinner; I did love her beef stew.

Dinner was normal. We talked about our day. We made plans to go to Bev and Mike's anniversary party the following weekend. They were having it at Tribes, always a good idea, I thought.

We watched a little TV; well she watched TV; I watched her. She was so calm and collected. Had it been me cheating on her, I would have been a nervous wreck, feeling guilty as hell. But her? Nothing, not even a sidelong glance. Could I have been dreaming? Well, maybe, but the pictures were no dream and I had them. I even had a set of poor quality downloaded ones with me. I hoped I'd not need them, but one never knew.

We headed upstairs to bed. The moment of truth, I thought. I smiled at her. She looked at me funny. Her first slip? Well maybe.

"I'm feeling frisky," I said. "And you are looking awful good tonight." She smiled at me, but it seemed forced, but that might just have been my imagination.

"Well, I should hope so," she said, finally, "this hairdo cost me plenty." She smiled again.

We were soon naked and in bed. I was a little more attentive than usual. I kissed her lightly then more earnestly. I felt up her breasts and butt. Working myself down her body, I kissed her more southerly lips and made agreeable love to her. She lay languidly as I had my way with her. Soon, I was banging her vigorously. She lay impassive, but smiled up at me periodically. In a word she was bored. And, in another word, I now knew. Her love for me was dead or dying. My love for her? Also dying.

Rather than carry on with the farce, I pulled out of her. I got up.

"Where yuh goin'?" she said confused.

"I'll be back in a moment," I said. "Then, I'll let you be."

"Huh?" she said. "Let me be? You just fucked me."

"No, I made love to you," I said. "Well, at least I tried. But, I'll be back in a second. Just relax." She looked more than a little nervous. I was about to clear up any and all reason for her to be concerned.

Still naked, I hustled downstairs, found my briefcase, retrieved the photos, and headed back up.

I placed the manila folder on the bedstand. I went in to shower. I was soaped up pretty good when I heard the scream. Then nothing.

I rinsed off and dried myself. I went back in to face the storm.

I'd only been gone minutes, but she looked terrible. Her face was streaked and she had on her old robe; it was a tattered thing, but comfortable, she'd always maintained.

"Jess-please-you've got to listen to me. You've got to," she said. Now, she was begging.

"Oh, really? What do I need to hear, Trace? I'm all ears. One thing I gotta ask though, in my house! That really hurt, yuh know?" I said.

"Jess, it's not what you think?" she continued to plead.

"Well, I'm sure glad of that, Trace, because if it was him fucking you, as I originally thought, we're done you and I," I said. "So was it?"

"Was what?" she said.

"Was it him fucking you?" I said.

"Jess-no-I mean yes-but I mean it's not what you think. I don't love him. I love you, only you. Didn't I just get done proving that to you?" she said. The hope in her voice was palpable. She was praying it was enough.

"You mean when we-I-made love to you just now," I said.

"Yes, exactly that," she said. "It was wonderful, right?"

"Hell no it wasn't. I was hoping that I was wrong, Trace. That you would at least love me too. That you would show me at least as much passion as you showed the asshole today. Maybe then we might have worked something out. I mean twenty-six years. Jesus!

"I know couples sometimes kinda get bored with each other after that much time. But, you couldn't get even a little interested in me tonight; it was obvious. Hell, I almost couldn't get it up to screw you it was such a turnoff, I mean your bored attitude. But, you are pretty, so at least I was able to get one last fuck in before the end," I said.

"Jess, you're wrong, I loved what you did to me. I know I was relaxed because you relaxed me-uh-uh-with your tongue." She was getting desperate.

"What about with my cock?' I said. What about that? Tell me, is he bigger than me? I'd really like to know."

"Jess, what kind of question is that? Size doesn't matter that much to a woman. You are plenty big enough for me; you know that," she said.

"Still didn't answer me, Trace, I really want to know. I have a right to know don't I. I mean if you're going to go out and fuck another man, shouldn't I at least be able to know if I have a chance to compete with him?"

"Jess, that's crazy!" she said.

"Still haven't answered me, Trace. I'm losing my patience." I said.

"Okay, yes, he's a little bigger, maybe an inch or so, but that's it. And it means nothing. I love you not him," she said.

"Thank you for answering me. And, since you're in such a talkative mood, answer me this: why?" I said. I leaned back against the dresser. I still had the towel wrapped around me.

"Jess, I can't…"

"Yes, you can. This will be your only chance. Toss it and what little hope there is for us dies with your refusal," I said.

She nodded, resigned to do as I asked. "You said it yourself, Jess, you're boring in bed. I was afraid to tell you that; I know the male ego well enough by now.

"He came on to me in a weak moment. The first time was a year ago. So…"

"How often?" I said.

"Four other times," she said.

"Where?" I said.

"All of the other times were in his office. He pulled the blinds closed and did me over his desk. There that's it," she said, softly. "Jess, I am so sorry. I just needed…"

"Needed something you weren't getting from me," I said.

She didn't say anything. She just looked at the floor her hands folded in her lap.

In that instant I was pretty sure I had been the one to blow it. I didn't realize that she had felt that way. I hadn't realized that I had let my woman down. In a way, I had driven her to look elsewhere. It didn't excuse her. She should have talked to me, yelled at me, kicked my ass out; but she didn't; she fucked another man in our house instead. So, what to do now?

I had been gonna kick her out right then. But, I saw a sliver of hope for us. She hadn't lied to me; I felt sure of that. Could I forgive her? Could I trust her again? I began to pace the floor.

"I need time to think, Trace. You move into Mark's or Mel's room tonight. We'll talk again in the morning. And, Trace…"

"Yes?" I could actually feel the hope in her voice.

"This isn't over. And Mr. Williams is not home free no matter what. You understand that?" I said. "Oh, and one more thing, you are done working there, you do get that?"

She looked disconcerted when I said that. She seemed about to say something, but she just nodded and rose to go into one of the children's rooms. I figured it might be Mel's room she would choose because it had its own bathroom. Mark had always had to use the one downstairs.

The morning would bring a whole new set of challenges. I'd be able to think of something by then. I already had a few ideas.

She was up before me and the coffee was made. It was a work day, but I was going to call in. We had things to do and a long day of decision making to get through. She sat across from me stirring the whitener into her coffee.

"So what now, Jess?" she said. She could see I had a pad in front of me with some writing on it. She couldn't read it of course, nobody could; my scrawl was indecipherable to all but trained surgeons.

"First thing is we drink our coffee, have a couple of warm rolls, and then we call our respective workplaces," I said.

"You still gonna make me quit?' she said, looking up from her stirring.

"Is that a serious question?" I said.

"No, I guess not," she said.

"Why, you still wanna work there with your fuck buddy? Tell me now and we'll go to plan B. I mean right now," I said.

"No, no, I just liked the work. He and I will never speak again, no matter what," she said.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't believe that she had actually asked me if she really had to quit. There were other travel agencies. Why was she so in love with the place?

"Jess, are you going to divorce me? Please, don't keep me in suspense. I fucked up royally, but I want to stay married to you if you will let me," she said.

"No. I have decided that we need to try to get by it. But, it will be on my terms and some of the terms will not be pleasant. I will not stand for being a cuckold. I love you, but I don't love you that much, no man would," I said.

"Okay," she said. The hope had now become something else-maybe gratitude.

Our conversation was but half over before the phone rang. I got up to get it. It was loverboy. "It's for you," I said. I got only her side of the conversation.

"Hello?… Oh, no, I know it's late… No, something's come up… I will be in later… no… no… maybe an hour maybe two… okay, bye." She hung up.

"Why didn't you tell him," I said.

"I have to go in one last time, Jess, I have to get my stuff. I even have my laptop there. I intend to tell him then. Is that okay?"

I was fuming, but her computer was $2,000 worth, so I guess I had to say okay. "Okay, but you may be gone for no more than an hour. If you are, the doors will be locked when you return. Am I clear?" I said. I had a plan; this could work out for me, her going in one last time.

"Thank you," she said. "I will be back within an hour, I promise. Anyway, I guess I oughta go up and get cleaned up and dressed." I nodded and she headed upstairs.

My little micro-recorder was going to be in her purse. It could record for as many as 55 hours. What she said to him would be on it unless, by some accident, she discovered it. Her purse had numerous pockets and subpockets. Women! I found a little subpocket that I was sure she would not be looking into-well, I hoped, and stashed the recorder in it.

She was down the stairs, dressed casually, not her usual formal workwear and out the door. We didn't kiss; well, she wouldn't be gone long.

Her trip took an hour and thirteen minutes. I decided to be lenient. I knew they hadn't had time to fuck, but they had had time to talk. That was one conversation that I wanted to hear.

"You're late, but not by much. You okay?" I said.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just feel funny, I mean quitting like that; it was embarrassing," she said.

"Hmm, well, I felt kinda funny watching him fuck you yesterday, so maybe we're a little more even now," I said. She looked sad. I had a bad feeling, but I wasn't sure why.

I was able to get my recorder out of her purse when she adjourned to the bathroom a little bit after she got home, but I wasn't going to be able to listen to it until later when I knew she would probably go shopping at the supermarket.

She left to do her shopping at 2:00PM.

Her car was moving slowly down our street as I pulled the little device from my jeans pocket, rewound the recording, and punched play.

Sounds of the street and traffic. "Shit-shit-shit!" I heard her say to no one a she drove. She clearly was upset with herself, and probably with me.

The next minutes were essentially silent until I heard her open her car door and her getingt out.

"Hello, Margaret, Mr. Williams in?"

"Sure, go on in, Tracy, you know the way." Sounds of doors opening and closing.

"What's going on, Tracy? Why did you sound so funny on the phone?" said the asshole.

"Hank he knows. He saw us yesterday, and he has pictures," said Tracy. "He's making me quit working here as of now. I'm here to get my stuff, and then I have to get right back. I mean right back. I'm on the clock."

"Oh my God!" he said. "What's he gonna do? Are you and I finished? Tracy I love you. I know you love me. What can we do?" he said.

"Does this answer your question?" I heard her say.

"Huh? What are you doing?" he said.

"Getting naked. But, you have to do me fast, and then help me pack, so I can get back in time," she said.

I listened a little longer to the banter and the sounds of him fucking her. I knew what I had to do.

I pulled a couple of suitcases out of the closet and started throwing her stuff into them. I called a locksmith who was able to do a rush job; he was a guy the bank used; he needed my support.

I had her packed, though badly, and the locks changed in the three hours she was gone. It occurred to me that she could have met him while shopping, but I doubted that.

The locksmith was just driving away when her car pulled in. She started to get out, but I held up my hands to stop her. I picked up the suitcases on the porch beside me and brought them to her. Her eyes got big. "What?"

"Shut the fuck up and get out," I said. "You better go back to work; you're going to be needing your job."

"Jesse, I thought…"

"Not after what you did with him in his office today," I said. "We're finished. You're his lover, whore, nooner whatever, and you and I are done. Say hello to big dick for me, okay," I was all but snarling at her.

"Oh my God! How? You couldn't… " she was flustered, confused, frightened.

"I was there," I lied. Well, actually, I sorta was there. She looked at me as though what I said made no sense. And, of course it didn't make any real sense. But, I loved the fact that she was totally out of the loop.

"Jess, if you really are kicking me out, I do need to get my stuff," she tried.

"Make a list. And, while you're at it, it might be useful for you to remember the prenup you made me sign," I said. "Call me tomorrow or the next day, and I will let you get whatever else you're entitled to." I turned and walked in. She was still standing by her car shocked and flustered.

I watched from an upstairs window. She put her bags in the car and just before getting back in, she flipped me the bird; she had to know I was watching her. I flipped it back at her, but she didn't see me do it.

The kids were seated around the dinette table having been summoned home by me.

"Yes, dad she did call us. She said you kicked her out, but that you had reason," said Melanie. Melanie was our first born; she is twenty-one. Mark her brother was nineteen.

I smirked, "Reason?" I said. "I had reason. I called you guys here to let you know that your mother and I have irreconcilable differences. For obvious reasons I'd rather not get into them with you. But, I will say this. Your mom has a boyfriend. She likes him better than me, and as far as you two are concerned that's pretty much the long and the short of it."

"Dad! Mom would never do that to you," said Mark. "She loves you. She told us so today.

"Both of us, right, Mel," said Mark

"Yeah, dad," she did.

"She didn't say anything about her boyfriend then?" I said.

"No, dad. She said you were really mad about something, but she wouldn't tell us what. She said you'd have to do that," said Melanie.

"Typical," I muttered, "leave the dirty work up to me.

"Kids, I just did tell you. She's got a boyfriend. She's-well-doing him. Now, we have to leave it at that, okay?" I said. I had not intended to put it out there for them. I only wanted them to have a heads up about the impending divorce. But, now I'd had to lay some of the facts out on the table.

"Dad, she said she told you she loved you but you just wouldn't accept that. She didn't say anything about another man. She said she hoped you'd do the right thing and not make things worse than they already were," said Mark.

"Dad, I know mom loves you. I know she would never have-well-you know with another man. We believe her, Dad. You gotta take her back. Solve the problem you've got with each other and take her back. I know you can work it out dad."

"Did she give you a number to reach her?" I said.

"Yes," said Mark. "She's staying with a friend from work for the next few days."

"Call it." I said. Mark started to object. I raised my hand to stop him. "Just call her, and ask about Hank?" This was getting way too deep for me. I didn't want to use the pictures, but I was not going to be the bad guy in this no matter what.

"Take the phone in the other room and talk to her in private. I will wait till you're done," I said.

Mark took the phone into the other room and made the call. He was gone for some little time.

He came back and had a smile on his face. "Mom said to tell you hello, dad, she'd been crying. I talked to Mrs. Williams too, and she said she hoped you'd come to your senses."

It was surreal. She was gambling that I'd be willing to overlook her double betrayal because of the kids and our twenty-six years. But, the kids had not seen and heard what I'd seen and heard. But more than that, she was staying with him and his wife! The woman had balls of steel. I'd never played poker with her, but now I was glad I never had; she'd have cleaned me out.

"Get her back on the line," I said. "I want to talk to her." He dialed and handed me the phone.

"Mrs. Williams, may I speak with my wife, please… Yes it's me… Tribes in thirty minutes… no, the kids won't be there… not for this one… no, thirty minutes and not one minute more." I hung up.

"You two stay here. Your mother and I are going to discuss a couple of things," I said.

She was already at a table in the back. He was with her: big mistake.

"What's asshole here for? He's got four seconds to get out or I destroy both of you," I said, literally sneering.

"Jess, he's here to apologize… " she started.

"Fuck him.

"Get out of here fuck face before I take you down," I said. I knew he'd probably kill me, but the truth would be known then wouldn't it, I reasoned.

He ignored my ridiculous threat. "Mr. Pearson, please, give me a chance. Just two minutes and then I will get my fuck face out of here if you say so," said asshole.

I glared but raised my hand in a signal for him to continue; I still stood.

"Mr. Pearson-your wife and I-well we haven't been…"

"Hank let me; then you can have your say," said Tracy. "We haven't been honest with you, Jess. But, I haven't cheated on you." I looked at her like she was crazy. I had pictures and she'd seen one of them. "Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking, but I wasn't cheating on you, not really."

"Not really?" I said. Now I was confused.

"Jess, Hanks been fucking me for twenty years, not just the five times I admitted to," she said. I hoped beyond hope that the recorder in my coat pocket was getting all of this because nobody would believe me if I told them. "What I mean is that I have been your wife, your faithful wife for all of that time. The only thing I have done was have sex, extra-curricular sex, with Hank, to kinda fill in, well, the gaps in my sex life. I never told him I loved him. I never denied you in bed. He never got more than you; every time I did it with him I did it with you the next day, sometimes the same day or night…"

"Sloppy seconds for me? You rotten… " I was getting mad.

"No, no! God no! I never gave you sloppy seconds, never! I was always douched and showered if we did it the same day as Hank and I did it. God, no, please believe me on that one whatever else you may think of me," she said.

"Why should I?" I said. I turned to Mr. Williams, "Does your wife know?"

"No, she's ill. Been ill for almost our whole married life. That's why-well that's why I came on to your wife-to-fulfill a need I had," he said. "And, please, Mr. Pearson, no matter what you decide to do, don't tell Maxine. It would kill her. Do what you want with me, but don't tell her."

"Jess, I have a proposal I hope you'll consider," she said. I stared at her, my eyes signaling her to continue. This was all crazy, but no one could have claimed it wasn't interesting; and, I was recording it.

"First and foremost I want us to remain married," she paused. "Second, and I know at first blush this is going to seem, sound strange. I want you to consider Hank here your brother husband."

"Huh? What? I don't understand," I said, and I didn't.

"Well, it's simple really. Hank and Maxine will remain married, and he will remain her dutiful husband as long as she lives. You and I will be as before. But-Hank will be kind of a second husband to me-I mean since you know everything already. He'll be like a brother to you, a brother husband. Unofficial of course, but for us the real McCoy," she said.

I stared. I had no words. I couldn't breathe all that well. I took a shallow breath and I must have flushed or taken on an indeterminate expression.

"Sounds good, huh?" she said.

"You're fucking crazy both of you. We're done here. Please go straight to hell," I said.

"Jess! What are you talking about! I thought I made myself clear. I mean…"

"Shut the fuck up. I will not be your cuckold, and certainly not his," I nodded in the direction of asshole. "I will not accept getting the occasional mercy fuck just to placate me. Frankly, I deserve better than that. I deserve a wife-a real wife." I stormed out leaving the two morons to talk it over.

I pulled into the garage. The kids met me at the kitchen door.

"Well?" said Melanie.

"I'm divorcing her. She met me there with her lover! She told me I had to accept him, but that she'd let me have a mercy fuck every now and then," I said. Okay, I stretched the truth a little, but it was how I felt. "Ask her if you don't believe me!"

Mark was already out of the room and pulling his cell phone to call her.

I burst out crying. I couldn't help it. Melanie came to me. "Dad," she said, putting her arms around me. "Don't worry. It'll work out all right. Mark and I are here for you."

Helluva thing a man having to lean on his baby to get comfort in a bad time like this, I thought. Shoulda been my wife not my kid. I was dying inside.

Mark returned. He looked at me sympathetically. "She is with someone; he actually answered her phone. I don't know what to say dad. I'm sure Melanie told you were here to support you. I, we, do want to talk to mom too, but things don't' look too good at the moment, I have to admit."

"Thanks, Mark, that helps," I said, as I wiped my eyes.

We talked for some time about what I was going to do. I told them to expect a divorce and that very soon. There was no way I was going to be her willing cuckold.

I approached Matt the day after the meet with the Tracy and asshole. I told him to expedite it. He said he would.

"Are you really going to crucify her financially, Jess," said Matt.

"Absolutely. She's the one who insisted on the damn prenup and she's the one who screwed me over by screwing her boss then daring me to like it or lump it. Well, I'm lumping it. I want it done fast, public, and rude, okay?"

"Okay, you are within your rights. I will have her essentially destitute by the end of the week. You know what to do at your end," he said.

"Yes, I do, and I'm going to enjoy the hell out of it. Just like she did telling me the things she told me."

I called in to work and took the rest of the week off. I had to get things handled by the week's end. I wanted out of my sham of a marriage and I wanted it sooner rather than later.

She was served at her work place two days later. She called me.

"So it's over? Twenty-six years down the tubes?" she said.

"You should know; you ended it," I said. "How many other husbands do you think would have taken your offer of occasional mercy fucks seriously? I don't think too many. You're good lookin' but not that good lookin'."

"Jess what's this stuff about mercy fucks? I love you. We would have made love just like always, maybe even more than before. God knows I feel I had a lot to make up for hurting you like I did," she said.

"Exactly, you'd have done more because you felt you had to, so that I wouldn't feel left out, not because you wanted to," I said. "That's the definition of mercy fucking. You do know that?"

"No! No, it's not. I wouldn't be doing it to make you feel better-well in a way I would-but mainly I'd be doing it to make sure you knew I loved you and only you.

"Look, can't we try to put this behind us? I'll do anything to make this right. I'm already looking for a job elsewhere. I have to stay here until I get one, but I will be out of here as soon as I can. Doesn't that say something about where I'm at?"

"Too little too late, Trace, you blew it by fucking him when you went to get your stuff at the office. I don't trust you anymore. You're a liar and a cheat. I have to go. Goodbye," I said. I hung up.

The divorce was final six months later.

My life post divorce was quiet and boring and lonely. The kids understood, or so I thought, but, too, they clearly thought that I had been too hard on their mother because I had cut her off without a dime. I knew also that they had taken to contributing to her financial well being at first using some of the college money I had sent them. But soon the woman was able to make it on her own; she had gotten a job at a different firm. The thing that really pissed me off, though, was the fact that she had kept up her liaison with the asshole.

It was almost Christmas, almost exactly a year and a half after the divorce that things really came to a head.

I had avoided seeing or even hearing anything about my ex for the entire time since the divorce. The kids were under strict orders to tell her nothing about me, nor did I want to hear anything whatsoever about her. They went along, well, until the Christmas just alluded to that is.

"Dad," said Melanie, softly. "I am graduating next month, just thirty three more days, and then Charlie and I are getting married."

My eyes popped open and the smile on my face seemed to please my daughter. I knew about the grad date of course, had been planning on it. I was a little nervous about probably seeing my ex there, but it was one of those "can't help it" things that divorced people just had to do, I supposed. "Honey, that's great! When's the event?" I asked.

"The week after I grad, daddy," she said. "Uh-mom's going to be there too, I mean at the wedding. Is that okay? I mean I know you don't want to see her, but this is kind of a special day. Is that okay?"

"Yes, and I expect she'll be at the grad ceremony too," I said. I had to laugh. "Of course. I won't have a problem with that. Tell her that. Tell her I won't even mind if she shows up with asshole."

"Daddy, he's not that bad. I mean I wish you wouldn't keep calling him that. It's water under the bridge, okay?" she said.

"Okay, okay. I can put up with him for one day. I promise to behave," I said. She relaxed a little. But, then she started to fidget.

"Honey?" I said.

"Dad, I have a big favor to ask of you," said Melanie. I narrowed my eyes; this didn't sound good.

"Okay?"

"Dad, mom feels left out of my life. Mark and I spend a lot of time with you, and hardly any, at least in comparison to you," said Melanie.

"Really?"

"Yes. And, well, she asked if maybe it would be all right with you if Mr. Williams walked me down the aisle?" she paused to see how her announcement was received.

"Huh?" The shock was so sudden and so thunderously hurtful that I couldn't really talk. I kinda choked out my words. "She is asking if the man who took her away from me to do my job?"

"Well, but not really, dad. He will never take your place in my heart, never. It's just that mom feels so left out, so much less since you divorced her…"

I interrupted her, "Mel, I have just one question: are you going along with this?"

"Well, I said I would ask you. You know. You got everything in the divorce; she didn't get anything. She just wants some little thing to kinda make her feel a little more like she's, well, our mom. Mark thinks it's maybe a nice thing for us, you, to do too," said Melanie.

"I have to go. I have to do some things. I forgot I-I-I have to do some things," I stuttered. The divorce was bad, but this was the worst thing that ever happened to me.

"Daddy, please… " I stood and walked out and then walked fast and then ran. She was saying something yelling something, but I was running literally running from her. In her high heels she was not catching me, not hardly.

My stomach was imploding in on itself. I felt faint. In that moment, I knew my wife, my ex-wife, had won. I could not share my daughter in any way shape or form with that man, no more than I could share my wife. In that same moment, I knew what I would do. Before the day was out I would be setting the wheels in motion remove myself from my family forever. Helluva thing.

I drove directly to Matt Grossman's office. He greeted me. We sat down. After signing all of the necessary papers, I called Max Winters, my boss at the bank.

Max was upset that I was quitting, but after I told him the deal; he understood. I told him I was coming to his house right then. I had keys to turn in and some computer access codes he would need.

Matt had my power of attorney to sell the house. All of the proceeds were to go to the kids. I also left a letter with him for them explaining my wishes. But, I put no limitations on their use of the money. I just told them to finish college no matter what, and told them I hoped they had good lives.

"Mark come here," called Melanie. The lawyer was seated at the dinette in Tracy's apartment. In front of him was a manila envelope.

"Kids, I'm here representing your dad. He asked me to give you these," said Matt. He pulled out a letter and some other paperwork that looked like receipts. "You can look at them at your leisure, but I need to tell you a few things first."

"What's this all about, Mr. Grossman," said Mark, looking about as worried as he actually was.

"Your father has left town-for good. He told me to tell you he loved you both, and he wouldn't stand in your way or cause you any more heartache than he feels he has already caused you." He looked at Melanie.

"Mel, I've known you and your family all of your life. Your dad just could not bring himself to upset your wedding. He could also not bring himself to share you with the man who had cuckolded him and taken away his wife. So, he opted to just take himself out of the picture. He wishes you well, and prays your marriage will be wonderful and lifelong, unlike his own…"

"What the fuck!" screamed Mel. "He's gone! Without a word! Gone!"

"Mr. Grossman, you have to help us find him. This is all wrong. We just thought that… I mean mom thought… " Mark said.

"Mark, he's gone. I have no knowledge as to his destination…"

"The house! There must be a clue in the house!" said Mel.

"The house is cleaned out; everything is gone but the furniture. He left instructions with me to give all of that to your mother. I am expediting the sale myself. The proceeds are to be divided between you; it's all in the letter. He gave you everything, no restrictions.

The sobbing began in earnest. Even Mark, the heman, couldn't help himself. The lawyer let himself out.

Tracy sat across from her children. Her look was drawn and distant. "I am so sorry, Mel. I didn't think your dad would do something like this. I was just hoping that the bitterness he felt for me and Hank might melt a little if we could be maybe a little more like a family again. I guess I messed up. Well, hell, it wouldn't be the first time would it?"

"Mom, dad has never gotten over the breakup. He thought he had to do it, the divorce; and he is bitter. It wasn't just you finding someone new. He had some crazy notion that you were trying to make him happy to be cuckolded by you, and that you actually wanted him to share you with Hank. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but he believed it. I don't know; his thinking was all crazy and mixed up. I should have seen this coming. I'm a Psyche major for crying-out-loud!" said Mark.

Tracy began to cry. The children tried to comfort her.

"Mom, about the wedding…"

"You're right, Mel. Hank will not walk you down the aisle. If your dad ever returns, or if we, I, can find him; we will not have to explain how he was replaced in his duty.

"Mark, you will have to walk your sister down the aisle. Okay?"

"Sure mom. I will be honored.

"I mean if it's okay with you sis?" She nodded her assent.

"This was to be the happiest day of my life-now?" said Mel.

"Honey, I know your dad, he would not want you to change anything. He'd want you to be happy."

The year since the wedding had been one of rebuilding for me, rebuilding my life. I had made a few new friends in Mexico. I had all of the money I needed to make a life there, and I was happy I'd gambled and went south instead to California where I had originally considered going.

Popotla was a small village on the Baja peninsula below Ensenada. Mostly mobile vacation homes for upper middle class Californians. Mine was a four bedroom place with all the necessaries. I planned to be a year 'round resident. I needed the four bedrooms. One was my office where I did some online tutoring of high school students; it was just part time, but it kept me busy. I didn't want to totally retire. One I was too young, and two as far as I was concerned retiring was waiting to die; such wasn't for me; hell I wasn't even fifty years old yet.

I was sitting on my newly built raised veranda watching the sunset with Juan Diego, my carpenter friend. "You did a good job. I love this porch," I said.

"My pleasure, senor," he said. He knew my name and I had asked him fifty times to use it, but I was always going to be senor to Juan Diego Santana Delos Robles. I raised my Dos Equis to him and we tapped bottles.

"Senor, have you heard from tus familia?" he said.

"No senor Robles," I said, throwing his formalism back at him and smiling in the doing. "I probably never will again."

"That is not so good, senor," he said. "A man needs his familia. They need their father. It is not so good."

"No, well, you're right about that mi amigo. You are right about that. But, it cannot be helped."

"Tu esposa?" he said.

"No, she dumped me for a bigger pene," I said, using the Spanish term. He laughed. I felt good talking with Juan. He was totally ingenuous. El adivino de Popotla (The seer of Popotla), I called him; his advice was always sensible. He liked me calling him that.

It was almost noon and the sun had broken through the morning mist and was warming us. A car pulled up on the road below and I saw someone get out and look toward us. Whoever it was shaded his eyes with his hand to see whatever it was he was trying to see. He got back in and drove toward us. To my surprise, he stopped in front of us and got out. He'd donned a broad brimmed hat, no doubt gotten at some tourista trap along the road, and it was pulled down over his face and nearly obscured it. He looked up. My surprise was now total.

"Matt! Matt Grossman. What are you doing here?" I said.

"News, my man, and you have to listen to me," he said. "Oh, and get me one of those. It was a long drive."

I dug into the styro cooler behind my deck chair and popped it for him. "Come on up, come on up," I said. My curiosity was momentarily forgotten in my satisfaction at seeing my friend.

I suddenly remembered myself. "Oh Matt, this is my good friend Juan Diego Santana Delos Robles," I said. They shook and we all sat.

"So," I said, after we'd settled in and had a couple of sips.

"Your daughter, Jesse, has given birth-to twins, a boy and a girl. She has suspected all along that I knew how to get hold of you, and she came to me. She gave me this letter to give to you," he handed it to me. "She wouldn't take no for an answer, Jess.

"I was at a conference in San Diego until yesterday, and decided it was time to come down and see your digs." He looked around. "Modest but nice," he said.

I lost my composure and all facial expression. I could feel it all go. "That's wonderful," I said, without joy. I so wanted to see my grand child-children. "How's Mel?"

"She's good, and she's busy. Well you can imagine. In case you're wondering your ex is doing okay too. She and-the man-are seemingly are getting it on. Yes, he's still married, but he doesn't seem to be worrying all that much about that. I know you hate the two of them, but I figured you'd want to know anyway; I would," he said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "I can't believe he is still cheating on his wife like that and getting away with it. She must be dead in the head not to have figured it out by now. But, hell, that's not my worry is it.

"So you drove all the way down her to give me this letter, or is there more to it? I said.

"You're very perceptive, Jess. Mel wants you to come back. She wants to talk to you. She has had no mental peace since you left. She blames herself," he said. "You and I have been friends for a long time, Jesse, I think you need to do it. At least a visit. You need to reconnect. And, don't tell me it's none of my business; I care about you, and it is my business."

I looked at him fiercely. He was right. "I don't know, Matt. The last time-I mean him walking her down the aisle…"

"He didn't. She wouldn't let him. It was all your ex's idea in the first place. I've talked to them both, I mean Trace and her lover. He was against it from the start, but your ex is persuasive, and well…"

"Was he at the wedding?" I said.

"Yes," said Matt. "He was nervous about it and kept his distance from the bride and groom, but he was there. Obviously I was there too," he added. I nodded my understanding. Matt was trying to be as lawyerlike and dispassionate as he could be.

"You stay here tonight," I said. "We'll talk, and I'll make up my mind by morning. Okay?"

"Sounds good. I didn't want to drive all the way back to LAX at night anyway. Thanks," he said.

The three of us toasted the last rays of the sun and called it a day. I made my plans to see my friend Juan soon and Matt and I retired to the spacious mobile unit I called home these days. We talked for a couple of hours and he filled me in more completely on what was happening back home, and then we hit the hay.

In my room, I took up Mel's letter.

Daddy,

I am so sorry for upsetting you like I did. I guess I just didn't realize how important walking me down the aisle was to you. I mean-oh never mind I was stupid, okay! Mom is sorry too for suggesting it.

Daddy, I need you to come back. I am begging you on my knees. Really, please come back, Dad. I need a kiss goodnight. Oh my, I don't know what I mean. Just come back to us. For the record, Mark walked me down the aisle.

Your grand babies are beautiful. I know you'll love them. And, they will need their grandpa too. Their names, so you'll know, are Jess and Jessica.

Love,

Your Mel

That last made up my mind for me. I had to see my namesakes.

I had the seat next to Matt on the way back-first class.

I shacked up with Mel that first night back in town. In the morning I would meet with Mel and Mark who was making the trip down from school to be with us.

The knock on Matt's door came early, 7:00AM. I had barely got out of the shower and Matt hadn't even gotten in yet.

"Mel!" I said too loudly. "You're early."

"Daddy!" she threw her arms around me and hugged me tighter than a short 115 pound girl should have been able to."

"Hi Mel," said Matt. She rushed over to him and gave him a big hug too.

"Thank you Mr. Grossman for bringing my daddy back to us," she said.

Mark had come in a half a step behind his sister. "Hi Dad." He was starting to tear up. Some heman, I thought.

"Where's my grand babies," I asked, trying not to appear too whatever.

"They're with Charlie, daddy. We wanted to see you first, and then take you there. Is that all right," said Mel.

"Well, sure, I guess," I said. Let all have some coffee or tea. I'd brewed it as soon as I had gotten up and Matt already had his cup in his hand.

"Everybody to the kitchen," said Matt. We all trotted in and took seats. Mel got up and gave me another hug. She reseated herself.

"Dad are you going to stay?" she said.

"Mel, I have a place now, a new home. I'm trying to rebuild my life. I mean if I was here-I mean your mother-I don't know if…"

"Dad, mom and Mr. Williams have nothing to do with you. They see us. Her more than him. I mean they are her grands too. They aren't together as much as they used to be. But, they are still an occasional item as far as we know," said Mark.

I looked over at Matt, he nodded his agreement with the facts as presented.

"Dad, I have a message for you. Please don't get mad," said Mel. My face must have clouded. "Never mind. It wasn't important anyway," she said.

Well, you know with a lead in like that I had to know. "What is it, Mel, I promise not to get mad," I said.

"Dad, remember you promised. Mom wants to see you talk to you. There that's the message," she said. "I told her I'd deliver it and promised nothing."

"Tracy Pearson wants to talk to me, Jesse Pearson, her cuckold. You know how weird that sounds?" I said. I fidgeted. "Mel, I blew it once, and I don't want to do it again. What could she possibly have to say to me. That she's sorry she tried to put the man who was cuckolding me beside you on your wedding day? Tell her fine, she's forgiven. Anything else?"

"Dad, I'm sure that's part of it, but I think there might be more. If you don't want to talk to her I will tell her. In fact I will do it right now. I'm not making the same mistake I did last time again." She pulled out her cell and speed dialed.

"Hello mom… " I grabbed the phone from her.

"Trace, it's me. Denny's on third in twenty minutes." I hung up and handed my daughter, whose mouth was open a foot, her phone.

"Well ladies and gentlemen and those not covered by that definition; I'm outta here. I'll be back-well-probably in about an hour. Okay?" They all nodded. Matt walked me to the door.

"Jess, be cool Listen to her. If you are going to go, shut up and listen to her. She's been an idiot and that's a fact, but you were together for a lot of years," he said.

"Yeah, okay, I'll listen but that's it. I want her the hell outta my life," I said.

"I know man. A broken heart is a broken heart. I've been there; I know the game," he said."

The restaurant was still pretty packed with the breakfast crowd. I hadn't thought of that when I told her Denny's. Nor, had I waited for her answer. I had no real reason to believe she'd even for sure be there. But, I wanted it to be inconvenient for her. I was there before she was. She was thirteen minutes late. I remembered the last time she'd been thirteen minutes late. I saw her come in and look around. She looked good, and she had her war paint on.

"Hello butthead," she said, taking her seat. My mouth fell open. She'd definitely outflanked me.

"Excuse me?" I said. I was actually curious to hear her now. I mean with an lead like that one had to be curious.

"You heard me. Okay, I'm a cheating asshole, but you're a moronic butthead," she said. She wasn't backing down. I wasn't sure this was the same woman I'd been married to for more than two decades. I sure as hell didn't recognize her!

"How dare you run out on your children like you did! What I did or tried to do was thoughtless and stupid, but you were cruel. I mean to run out on your daughter's wedding!" she said. I nodded. She had me there.

"Okay, you're right, I guess. I was a butthead. But, that's between me and my daughter. You have nothing to do with that," I said.

"Oh contrar, mister. I had to sit with our daughter for weeks after what you pulled trying to convince her that it was not her fault, that it was mine. I guess I finally succeeded, but that was no thanks to you. But, that isn't what I came to talk to you about. Well, I guess it was in part," she said.

"Well, and where are my manners," I said. "How have you been my cuckolding ex-wife, may I ask?"

There was something in her reaction to my words that I could not decipher.

"I never thought of you as my cuckold, Jess. You were always my man. My only man, no matter how it looks," she said.

"It looks bad," I said.

"I know," she said. "Maybe it will help if I tell you he and I are quits. His wife caught us. No, not doing it, but together. She's divorcing him."

"Will you be marrying him?" I said.

"No, no. We're quits," she said. "We tried to make a go of it as a couple-sort of. But, he was always married, and it did kind of cramp our style."

"I can imagine. You must feel just awful," I said, not trying to hide my sarcasm.

"The sarcasm isn't necessary, Jess. Really."

"Hmm, maybe from your point of view. You wrecked a perfectly good marriage and destroyed the heart of the man who loved you, Tracy. I call that perfectly good reasons to be sarcastic about your-uh-break with asshole number one," I said.

"Okay, whatever. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you, Jess. I know you and I will never be a couple again. I fucked that up royally, and I do blame myself for that. But, I would like us to be able to get along for the sake of the family. Do you think that maybe you could see your way clear to cut me a little slack here.

"You got all of the money, and you were legally entitled to it. Shouldn't that be enough revenge on me? And no, I'm not complaining. I'm doing okay now, anyway. But, we need to be able to be together with the family. I mean the children and our relatives and all of that. At least that's what I think. Whaddya say?" she said. "I think you could be a little bit kind to me in spite of my many failings. I'm not the wicked witch of the west, really."

I looked at her and felt something. I don't know, maybe some of the old sentiments. Love? I don't know. Not trust for sure. But even there, we were getting older. Did I want to hold a grudge just for the sake of holding one? No.

"Tracy, the anger has died in me. I guess we could give your wish some soil here. But, I do not ever want to hear that you are dissing me behind my back," I said. "That would not be acceptable, not at all," I said.

"You have my word of honor, Jess. I wouldn't do that to you. I promise," she said. She got up, came around the table and gave me a hug. "Thank you butthead, I mean it." I smirked.

"Okay, okay. Don't get carried away," I said.

Over the next several months I moved back for part of the year to the old digs. I liked the winters better south of the border, and I had a good man there to monitor my place in Popotla.

It was at a company party for Tracy that the first test of our new relationship, if that was how one might have characterized it, occurred. She had invited the family: Mel, Mark, Charlie, and a few friends. She'd gotten a promotion to product manager of the agency. Good 'ole Henry was there; he'd actually gone to work for the new place she was working at. He was with someone new though; he didn't interact with any of us, not even Tracy, or, maybe especially Tracy. I arrived kinda late.

She was sitting at a table with people I thought had to be her coworkers. The kids were over by the bar being young. I headed for Tracy's table.

She looked up and smiled. "Oh butthead, glad you could make," she said, smiling.

"Back atcha, asshole," I retorted. The other guests looked around wondering what was going on. It must've looked bad. "Wanna dance?"

"Yeah, I guess," she said. I could feel the relief as it swept around the table as I took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor.

I held her close, but not too close as we moved around the floor. I saw Mark at one point and he gave me the high sign.

"Whatsamatter, big boy, I have body odor or something," she said.

"Huh? No, I mean what kind of an idiot question is that?" I said.

"Then hold me close like you used to for goodnessakes, Jess. I won't bite," she said. I did, and she didn't bite. Well, maybe with a few more dances, I might be able to start trusting her again. Who could say.

It was only a dance, but with it the bitterness between us died.

-----------------------------

   Series:Bonnie and Clyde Armistead
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She's a slave to a really big cock but is having trouble getting her husband to believe it doesn't mean anything.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/73012/bonnie-and-clyde-armistead
Published:2012-12-28
Occasionally, I get a story idea sent to me by a reader. This story is based on one such offering. It is completely fiction, and the allusion to the infamous Bonnie and

Clyde is per their names only; put another way, this story has no relationship whatsoever to the gangster pair of the 1930s. Similarly, the Ana Campanas character in the story is no relation to the "Woman in Red" of John Dilinger fame either. At any rate, here goes.

"Such is the pow'r of love in gentle mind that it can alter all the course of kind."

(Edmund Spencer)

"I'm sorry mister Campanas. I just can't see my way clear to sign with you.

You've always been a reliable distributor, but your rate structure doesn't work for me tax-wise. My accountant has advised me against this kind of contract until after the first of the year and then only if the law is changed which at the moment, he assures me, is iffy," said mister Crocker.

"Joe, we can work the contract some to better suit you. You've always been satisfied with our work before?" said Michael Campanas.

"I'm sorry, Michael. It's just not a good time. Hopefully we'll be able to connect next year," said mister Crocker.

"May I ask who your accountant might be?" said Michael.

"Clyde Armistead. He's the best around," said mister Crocker.

"Armistead? Clyde Armistead?" said Michael.

"Yes," said Joe Crocker. Michael Campanas slowly shook his head. He knew

Armistead; well, he knew him to see him. Some of his colleagues used the man for their quantity control.

"I know him slightly. Got a pretty wife as I recall," said Michael Campanas, now trying to lighten the mood himself.

"Yes, I've met her. She's very pretty indeed," said Joseph Crocker.

"She's not an accountant though," said Michael, wondering why Joe Crocker would ever have met her.

"No, no, she works for Roma's salon on third. She's my wife's stylist," said mister

Crocker. "My wife and I had dinner with them a few weeks ago." He didn't see the look in the other man's eyes. "I've never met your wife, have I mister Campanas?"

"Who? Ana? No, I don't think so. She kinda stays clear of my business interests.

She's got a handful just taking care of the kids: we got five of 'em," said Michael

Campanas.

"Hubby do this for you?" said Michael.

"Shut up and fuck me," said Bonnie Armistead.

"Not until you tell me who does you the best," he said.

"You do, asshole, now get busy and do your duty," she said

"And, your hubby?" he said.

"I already answered you. You do me best. Isn't that enough?" she said.

He got off the bed and reached for the pile of clothes on the floor. He didn't even look at her, but he was laughing inside.

"What are you doing! Get back here!" she said.

He ignored her.

"Okay, okay, his tiny cock is near useless and he has almost zero talent when it comes to bedroom skills," she said. "Now are you satisfied?"

"Yes, as a matter-of-fact I am," he said. "He and my wife would make a pair for sure. They could be useless in bed together! Wonder how he'd like to be raisin' a bus load of rug rats." He broke out laughing.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole, and screw me. Do it now!" she commanded.

He made a big production of remounting her and ramming his cock home. She grunted and groaned at the sudden roughness of the man. A roughness she had come to love. The man himself? Hell no, she didn't love him; she didn't even like him. He was good at animalistic sex, but he was virtually worthless in any other respect; she wondered what his wife would do if she knew he was spreading his pollen. Her Clyde had it all over him as a man and a husband. But, sadly, very sadly, Clyde was less than nothing in the love making department.

"You gotta stop putting Clyde down every time we do it," she said as they dressed. "What did he ever do to you? Let me answer my own question-nothing."

"You wanna keep doing this or not," said Michael, ignoring her apparent ire.

"Well, yes, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop talking smack about him while you and I are together. Please!" she said.

"Okay, then, this is the deal. I'll-we'll-stop talking smack about him, but you've got tell him about us and tell him that he can't have sex with you anymore. He's a wimp and a cuckold. I hate sharing a woman of your quality with a nothing like Clyde Armistead.

"You asked what he ever did to me. You're forgetting that he cost me the Crocker contract? Him messing with my business like he did has to have a consequence. This is it. I get his wife for sex, and he gets to eat my cum out of her when I'm done. But except for that, your pussy is off limits to him. Got it?" She was horrified.

"He'd never go for being cut off like that! Not ever" she said. "You've gone too far this time, Michael. The answer is no!" He shrugged. "And, he didn't cost you that contract. He's an accountant, and advised his client to watch his pennies and that's all: I was there; I heard it all. He didn't know that you were courting the Crocker account; he still doesn't!"

"Too bad, but it is still your choice. It's been nice doing you," he said. "I'll let myself out." She stood there open-mouthed and watched him leave.

"Shit!" she said loud enough to wake the dead two states away. Cutting her husband off! Oh yeah, that would go over real big with that good man. Well, it would go over good if she wanted a divorce! Which she sure as hell did not! But…

Could she get along without Michael's cock? Very few ten inch cocks existed at all let alone attached to a man-beast who could give a woman multiple orgasms virtually every time he did her. No, she had to have it. And, she had to make sure that her man, her husband, her real man, didn't leave her. Fucking asshole, Michael; he was blackmailing her; that was the only possible description of what he was doing to her.

I was just finishing up dinner. I leaned back in my seat and smiled at the most beautiful woman in the world, my wife, Bonnie Armistead.

"That dinner was fantastic, honey. I mean really first rate," I said.

"Well, thank you mister man," she said. "Say, honey, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course. What?" I said.

"Well, I was talking to Marie Bradshaw today. You know my friend at the salon: husband's still in Iraq. She knows Michael Campanas. That wholesaler guy we met last year at her birthday party. The one who handles all of those big clothier contracts for the department stores," said Bonnie.

'Okay?" I said.

"Well, she said that Joe Crocker shined him on because of something you said."

"Something I said?" I said. "How so?"

"Said you told him not to sign with mister Campanas," said Bonnie. I started nodding my understanding of her words.

"No, no, I didn't tell him to sign or not sign with anybody. You were there when I met with Joe and his wife last tax time," I said.

"Yes, I was, but for some reason mister Campanas evidently blames you for Joe going with another wholesaler."

"I'm not sure I follow you, honey, but I never advised Joe to go or not go with any particular somebody. I just told him he had to be careful with his reserve funds because it was a tight market and add to that the tax bite this year could be more than a little problematical.

"But, tell me, why is Marie Bradshaw talking to you about this kind of stuff in the first place?" I said.

"Well, Mic… mister Campanas, is kinda upset with you," she said, "Oh, and Marie knows him pretty good."

"Well, you can tell Marie that I work for my clients not her friend this Campanas guy. I'd be derelict if I didn't," I said. She smiled, but it was a strained smile. Something was up, and it didn't look to be something that I was going to be liking much. And, yes, I did catch her almost refer to mister Campanas by his first name.

We finished cleaning up and headed upstairs. I stripped preparatory to what I intended would be the second night in a row of a very good and very raw sex and romance. She was in the bathroom.

When she came out she was wearing her long nightie, a sure sign that she was not interested. She caught my look.

"Honey I'm just a little too tired tonight. Okay? We did it last night. Just give me a break tonight. Okay?" she said in a plaintive voice.

Her tone, her look, something cued me. "What's going on, Bon," I said. "Something's not right." For no good reason, I decided to take a flyer. "Does this have anything to do with that Campanas thing?" She sighed.

She began pacing back and forth. I could see that she was gearing up to lay something heavy on me. What I never would have imagined, guessed, dreamed in my most horrifying of nightmares was what she did in fact lay on me.

"Honey, I love you. I love no one else. And except for Bobby Russell in the ninth grade, I never have loved anyone else. And, I never will if it comes to that," she said. The words were right, the tone-not.

"But Honey-well-I have a lover. It's Michael Campanas," she said.

"What did you say?" I said.

"Please, don't get mad, and don't worry. He's nothing to us," she said.

"You're not kidding are you?" I said.

"No. But it doesn't have to affect us hardly at all," she said.

"Hardly at all? What does that mean? You mean except for the fact that we'll be divorcing now," I said. Her look screamed shock at my words, but she controlled her tone.

"Heavens no! I don't want a divorce, and I know you don't want one either," she said.

"Well, unless I'm missing something really big here, you've got one anyway," I said.

"Okay, okay. I need to explain myself. I knew I would. And, now I'm going to. Okay?" she said. I was shooting daggers at her with my eyes but saying nothing. I nodded for her to go on.

"Okay, it's like this," she started. "Michael and I have something going on the side. He's got equipment that few other human males have. I wanted-no, needed-to experience it; so I did."

"And this has been going on how long?" I said, not really caring anymore one way or the other. I wasn't quite snorting, but close.

"Since the Bradshaw's party last year. The one I mentioned earlier," she said. I nodded. I was seething inside: I'd been a cuckold for a year and not a clue.

"Honey, it doesn't have to affect us at all," she said.

"Sloppy seconds? I've been getting them right along haven't I?" I said. She looked away. "All those times I thought you were ultra-wet because you were turned on by me. In reality you were laughing at me while I sucked him out of you.

"Fuck!" I said. "Bonnie, did I ever really know you? I mean you feeding me sloppy seconds. And, you say this doesn't affect us? Are you crazy?"

"I never, ever laughed at you. I always treated you with respect. Yes, there were some sloppies, but really only a few. Mainly because you wouldn't take no for an answer, like last night. And well, I didn't see any harm in it," she said.

"You cheated on me, Bonnie, that's the harm. You let me suck his cum out of you, and you knew I would, because I always eat you to make sure you get off, that's also a harm, i.e., you knowing exactly what you were doing to me. You have any idea how humiliating this is for me? Does he know you made me eat his cum out of you?" I said. She looked away-again.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck! How could you do this shit, Bon, I really loved you. I mean with all of my heart. Wait! You said '… like last night.' You fucked him yesterday didn't you?" I said.

"Yes, and today, today's when he told me about Crocker. He's very angry with you, Clyde. I guess he kind of wants revenge because of the contract," she said. "But I told him no way. I defended you."

"A fucking cuckold. I'm a fucking cuckold; I will never be able to live this down. Never!" I said.

"Yes you can and yes you will. You are my man, my husband. I need you, and you need me. So what if Michael screws me. He never gets the real me, only you get that," she said.

"You being my cuckold makes me feel closer to you than ever. You should be proud to be my cuckold, not feeling embarrassed about it," she said.

"Are you serious? You need help. I mean really, I'm almost willing to forgive you, because I think you are off your rocker," I said.

"Clyde, there will be no divorce. And, to be honest, I'm glad that this has happened. Now, I don't have to be sneaking around. I can finally be upfront with you about what we need to do. How we need to be together. You need to deal with it, Clyde; you need to deal with this-situation. But really, it will make hardly any difference to the real us whatsoever. You've been eating him out of me off and on for a year. It hasn't killed you, and it's been a huge turn on for me. So just sit back and enjoy the ride," she said. "Like I said, deal with it."

"What part of we're getting a divorce didn't you get, Bonnie. We're splitsville. Got it?" I said. "Your arrogance pushed this-situation-as you call it beyond the pale. We're done."

"Clyde, it's you that don't get it. I will fight you on a divorce because I want and need you. But, if you insist on such a course, and if you somehow manage to get one, a divorce, you will force me to take you for everything you've got. I'll make it so hard on you that you will be crawling back to me on your hands and knees begging for forgiveness and a second chance; and yes, to be my cuckold.

Clyde, I won't be raping you in a divorce because I want to; I don't, but I will if you leave me no choice. Clyde, I will do my damnedest to make sure you remain mine. But please, again, I want you and need you; and, you need me too," she said.

"You need me, but you'll rape me in a divorce. You want me, but you'll deny me intercourse with you: make me a de facto eunuch. All to please that asshole! Wonderful, Bonnie.

"Let me put it this way. You may try to hurt me in a divorce or somehow even block it. But, I swear to you the following; you won't like living with me, not with the hatred that's building in me at this moment. The husband you intend to cuckold and deny sex to is not without resources, believe it. Also, your boyfriend is about to reap the whirlwind; depend on it," I said. She momentarily lost her poise, when I mentioned going after her boyfriend, but she steadied herself.

"Clyde be reasonable. I don't want us to fight. My God I don't," she said.

"A fight? You've got a war, missy, and you're the one who declared it. Prepare yourself," I said.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't! Could she, as she said, be so cold hearted as to actually try to rape me in divorce court just to maintain her adulterous liaison with her asshole boyfriend! I couldn't believe it! She had been the love of my life. As for ever crawling back to her on my hands and knees; well, I did say she was crazy didn't I.

"You actually told him that?" said Marie Bradshaw. "Wow. You have balls of Kryptonian steel"

"Believe it, I did lay it on him like that. But, in the end he decided to risk it anyway. Like I said, he dumped me and walked out without so much as a by-your-leave," said Bonnie.

"Whaddya gonna do?" said Marie.

"For the moment, nothing. It's his move. I know he needs a little time to calm down and get his head on straight. You know come to grips with things. I'm hoping that he rethinks his plans and just comes back to me. If he does, I will make it easy for him. I mean no rubbing his nose in it. I am fully aware that his ego is in a very delicate state right now. And, I will act accordingly that is if he does get his act together. But, if he goes for the divorce, well, I guess we'll just have to go to war. I refuse to lose him."

"And Michael?" said Marie. "What if he does go after him?"

"That's the one thing that I am kinda worried about. I told Michael, warned him, but he says he's not vulnerable. So, I guess that's not something I have to be concerned with," said Bonnie.

"You know your husband being an accountant makes him privy to a lot of things and maybe friends with a lot of influential folks. You sure Michael is Teflon," said Marie.

"Yes, I think so. He was pretty confident. But that asshole, Marie, if it weren't for his dick, he'd be hittin' the pavement and leaving skid marks on the asphalt in the process right now," said Bonnie. He's so fucking stupid. I tell yuh, I don't know how the guy ever made any money in his business; he's a complete fool," said Bonnie.

"He's ruthless, that's how," said Marie. "I know Michael Campanas real well. He's known for taking no prisoners-ever. It's kind of a matter of honor with him, if you know what I mean."

"Hmm, honor, as if he could even spell the word," said Bonnie.

"When are you going to see him again?" said Marie.

"He'll have me bent over his couch drilling me from behind in about an hour," said Bonnie. "I like it when he does me doggy. It gives him more ways to control me, master me. God how I love it when he takes me. It's the female submissive in me. You know, that's part of the problem with my husband: he's such a wuss; he never takes me; he always treats me like a Lladro figurine."

"And for you that's a bad thing?" said Marie.

"Well, it would just be nice if for once he'd just do me without worrying about-what-if he were ramming me too hard," said Bonnie. "But, I do love him, and I guess gentle is just who he is, I suppose."

"Oh how horrible that must be for you," said Marie, laughing. Bonnie snickered.

"Well it's true," said Bonnie. "He's so vanilla it's almost embarrassing, even when we're alone! Anyway, you have to help me. I've got an idea." Her friend looked at her.

"Okay?" said Marie.

"Where have you been buster?" said Ana Campanas.

"Nowhere. A few drinks with Amos down at Bud's," said Michael.

"Hmm, Amos huh? And if I run into Amos tomorrow or the next day, he gonna have his story down straight?" said Ana. He just looked at her and snickered.

"If you mean will he remember what we were doing and where we were, yeah, probably," said Michael.

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Ana. "The kids are in bed. You need to go up and say good night to them. They were not happy when they found out you'd be working late again. You've been late too damn many times lately, Michael. This has to stop. The babies, our babies, are too precious to treat like you've been treating them, neglecting them really." He looked at her and realized he had been less than fair to the children.

"Okay, you're right. I'll make arrangements, somehow, from now on," he said. His words seemed to mollify her. She nodded.

"Let's go to bed. I hope you're up for some exercise, superman, because I am," she said. He looked a little dubious.

"Yeah, I think I can accommodate yuh," he said. "You gonna do your magic mouth thing on me?" She looked him askance.

"Okay, if you want," she said.

"If I want? You serious? What normal male wouldn't want!" he said, almost too vehemently.

He reached for a now cold burrito that was still on the tray on the kitchen table. He wolfed it down. Even superman needed sustenance to be able to perform sexually with any degree of enthusiasm. He knew he could be about to be in trouble. He'd already drained himself three times into Bonnie. He only hoped he'd have at least more one bullet left for his wife. If he failed to cum inside of her, there could be hell to pay. Oh yeah, hell to pay.

He'd been taking too many chances lately trying his best to fuck over the asshole who'd done him and his business hurt. But, if his lawyer wife figured it out, he was screwed, blued, and tattooed and those not too gently either.

He headed up the stairs. The four boys shared two sets of bunk beds in the biggest room. The room had its own bathroom too, so they didn't have the usual chicken fights that boys often did sisters. He smiled his pride as he stood there watching them breathing rhythmically in the pure innocence of children their ages.

Crossing the hall he looked down on his daddy's girl, thirteen year-old Clarice; she was the oldest. She was beautiful and smart and her daddy's heart. Looked like her mother though; that was a lucky thing, he allowed. He kissed her on her forehead, and left closing the door gently behind him.

He breathed deeply before entering their bedroom and wished himself luck. His wife was already lying on the bed. She was wearing her most revealing teddy. Jesus, she looked almost as pretty as Bonnie Armistead. He took his time disrobing.

Finally naked, he stood by the bed, his partially erect penis waving a greeting to her in front of him. She looked him askance.

"Looks like you need a little help, stud," she said. "Come here." He did as she said trying his damnedest to smile. But, he was worried, and that never helped him get hard.

It took her several minutes, but he was finally hard enough to do her. She pulled back for a second and said something that stunned him. "Blow it in my mouth, stud, I want to get the first one out of the way, so you can last a little while. He was too far gone to resist. He unloaded in her mouth and she swallowed it all.

He shrank out of her like a pair of unsanforized jeans on hot cycle. She tried to get him up tickling, sucking, playing, but the best she could do-or he could do-was get about half hard.

"You been jacking off, mister!" she said, accusingly. He swallowed.

"No," he said, kind of weakly. She seemed to buy it.

"You have haven't you. Either that or you're screwing some little number on the side. Let me warn you, mister studley, if I catch you with that dick in any other cunt but mine there will be no damn forgiveness. I hope I make myself perfectly clear." She didn't see him shudder, but he did.

I'd almost worn out the bar stool at Bud's Bar, or so it seemed to me, and that in just the seven days since I'd left the love of my life, one Bonnie Armistead nee Finnley.

I thought about going back and trying to reason with her. But, remembering how she'd acted and her incredibly flawed reasoning, I knew it would be futile. So, I drank. I drank a lot, an awful lot. And, it helped. No really, it did help.

And, then there was someone sitting on the barstool next to mine. "Find any solace in that stuff," said Marie. I looked over at her.

"What are you doing here? Go back to your friend, and tell her you've seen me and I'm just fine thank you very much," I said.

"Oh, I'll tell her, but I'll be telling her the truth. That you're crying in your beer. That you wish it was her sitting here instead of me, and that you're almost ready to go crawling back to her on your hands and knees," said Marie. I snickered.

"Yeah, right," I said. "Not a fucking chance. Tell her that too."

"Really?" she said.

"Yeah really," I said. "You have no idea the hurt she laid on me No idea. She utterly destroyed me, and she told me I had to like it-uh-deal with it, I think were her exact words."

"Yes, she did say she'd done you pretty cold. I think she'd like to have some of that back," said Marie.

"Too late," I said. "Like I said before, you have no idea how bad she's hurt me. And, I mean I will never actually get over the things she's said. Ten years from now, maybe when my next wife and I are having dinner, I will reflect back on it all and start crying my eyes out again because of that hurt. I know it. I know it as a great truth."

"You really going to divorce her?" said Marie. "I mean no way you could see your way clear to talk to her, maybe get by all of this stuff-the hurt?"

"Yep and nope," I said. "I've already seen a lawyer. And, yeah, I know the bad news is that she's gonna be able to hurt me real bad there too. Well, hell, I guess that's what she wants for me, hurt."

"That's not true. She wants to talk to you and soften the stuff she laid on you. She really is sorry about how she went about things," said Marie. "I think at the time she just wanted to get it all out there so the two of you could deal with the situation like adults, and not get into a guzzillion meaningless word games," said Marie.

"And her lover?" I said. "I mean he is the fly in the ointment, know what I mean?"

"She's not giving him up. But, she doesn't want to give you up either. She does intend to fight you if you try to divorce her," said Marie.

"Won't give him up? Well, that pretty much puts the boff on me ever speaking to her again except through the lawyers. Oh, and there will not be any 'trying' to divorce her, oh no, I am 'going' to divorce her flat period.

"There is no way she can stop me. She can delay things I guess, fuck me over even worse than she already has, but sooner or later I will be free of her. Hell, I just may leave the country and leave her to her lover and the fallout from that. He'll dump on her eventually, just like she has on me; then, maybe she'll understand just how much this has cost her, not just me," I said.

"Actually, I agree with you on that last part. He will dump on her eventually, that's guaranteed. I don't want to see her hurt any more than I want to see you hurt. And, I know you don't want to hurt her or see her hurt either," said Marie.

"Uh-huh," I said, but it was a sardonic uh-huh.

"Yes, uh-huh. I want you to go back and wait her out. Yes, your ego will be taking a helluva beating, but in the long run you'll be the winner and she'll be the one crawling back to you begging forgiveness which you will generously grant," said Marie. I started laughing. Well, it was funny.

"Her crawl back to me. Now, there's an image I can get my head around," I said. "It'll never happen."

"Look, Clyde, I know mister Campanas, and I know his wife Ana. And, at some point that, his wife, is an angle that you might want to work on. He's a scumbag. His wife is a strong woman if I'm any judge, and if she finds out about what he's doing, well…

"But, as for you and Bonnie, You just have to be patient, but mostly, you just have to be there in the first place. Not sitting here wishing you were there.

You need to go back, and yes, with your tail between your legs, and let her play at welcoming you home. But, don't have sex with her. Just tell her that while she is entertaining the neighborhood that you will remain celibate. Like I said, wait her out. It might take a while, but in the end you will come out on top," said Marie.

I looked at her hard. She was actually making sense. I wasn't sure about the celibacy part. That would be more than a tough nut for me, but maybe there might be a way…

I had to think. Marie and I talked a little more, but then she was gone, and I was left with my thoughts.

"Did he buy it?" said Bonnie.

"Maybe. I gave him something to think about. But, if he's not back in a couple of days, maybe not," said Marie. Bonnie nodded.

"Okay, I've got my fingers crossed. I guess it's going to be a waiting game for now," said Bonnie.

I parked in front of the house and just sat there. Was I playing a losing hand? I figured I was. Was it worth a second try in any event? I figured it also was. I took a deep breath, exited my car, and headed up the walkway to the front door. She opened it before I was quite up the last step of the porch.

"Thank God!" was her initial greeting. Her second greeting was a hug, but no kiss; I thought that telling, but I said nothing. "Honey, I am so glad you're back. I was so worried. I mean after our last little talk… " she said.

"Yes, I'm back, but I'm not sure if I'm going to be staying, and if I do for how long," I said.

"Oh, honey, please, let me prove to you that I love only you and that you belong here with me. I know what I said to you before may have made you wonder about that; but, nothing could be less true than me wanting anyone more than you," she said.

"But, you will have others beside me whether I like it or not, or, am I wrong about that?" I said.

"Honey, we need to talk. I need to plead my case better than I did before. I know when you see all sides of the situation that you will understand why nothing I have done, or ever will do, is going to matter an iota.

"Anyway, we need to eat and hug and maybe share a glass or two of wine before we go to bed. Would that be all right?" she said. I nodded.

Marie's advice came back to me and made me wonder. "Move back, she'd said, "but don't have sex with her. Make her wait until the asshole she's fucking around on you with, screws her over, and he will. Then, you'll be there to pick up the pieces," Marie had said.

Marie's advice made sense on a purely intellectual level. But, it did not take into consideration my current desperate state of horniness. I'd take her tonight. I'd think about taking Marie's advice tomorrow-maybe.

We ate and cleaned up the dishes together. We even shared a laugh or two about how domestic we seemed to be at that moment.

"Well, it's time to hit the hay," I said with some enthusiasm; again, that rising out of my desperate need to get laid. She gave me a doubtful look, but said nothing.

I was lying on top of the covers naked and anxious. I wondered how our first night together would go. She came out of the bathroom dressed in her flannels-again-her signal that there would be no sex.

"Honey?" I said.

"Yes?" she said.

"You're wearing your flannels?" I said.

"Well, I'm kind of tired tonight," she said.

"Wait, wait, are you saying no way to sex with me? That rule hasn't changed?" I said.

"Honey…"

"What's going on, Bonnie? I know you're not tired. You're dodging having sex with me. What's going on here that I'm not getting?" I said.

She sat down heavily on her vanity stool. "You know I'm still having sex with Michael, right?" she said.

"So if you fucked him today, take a shower. We'll discuss him tomorrow after we make love again in the morning," I said.

"Honey, I can't," she said.

"Can't what?' I said.

"Have sex with you. Not intercourse anyway," she said. She seemed genuinely sorry for what she was saying.

"Huh? You mean ever?" she looked away.

"Answer me!" I yelled. She jumped.

"Honey, it'll be all right. I'll ask Michael to allow me to let you do me once in a while. Okay?" she said.

"Huh? What? Why would you ask him for anything that has to do with me," I said.

"Michael's well, he has made it clear to me that I can't have sex with you. Well, at least while he and I are still doing it. You know on the side," she said. "He's still real mad at you for doing him, as he thinks, out of the Crocker account.

I was sitting up now, stunned and utterly disbelieving. "And, you expect me to come home-I mean after everything- and to put up with a deal like that!" I said, my voice rising to Olympian heights.

"But, we can still cuddle and be in love, real love, and I promise to make it right by you. There's a lot we can do without you actually screwing me. You know-oral stuff," she said.

"I'll be sleeping down the hall. Don't bother me. Oh and I will be staying here from now on. The house is mine too. But, you don't have to worry, I promise not touch your skanky ass. Believe it, I would not so much as touch you with a ten foot pole. But, and this is set in stone. Don't ever let me catch that cockbite around this house. If I do, I will crush him like a grape and drink his blood like wine. Got it skank!" I said. She blanched at my calling her a skank.

"Honey, you've got this all wrong. I love you, not him. He's a plaything that's all. Yes, I need what he can do for me in the sex department, but in absolutely every other way you're the king, not him," she said.

"Just make sure that the asshole never comes around here. I really mean it. If he does… " I left the not very subtle threat hanging in the air.

I grabbed my stuff and headed down the hall. I'd be dealing with the two of them on the morrow.

"Well, you can't say I didn't warn you. You should've let him screw you. How would Michael have known if you did? Clyde, according to you, is too small to stretch you very much. Michael would have no way of knowing," said Marie.

Yes, he would. I can't lie worth a damn. That's why I had to bare my soul to Clyde, tell him the whole thing. He would have known in a New York minute that I was hiding stuff. I knew it was risky, telling him the straight up truth, even crazy, but there was no other way. That said, I thought that if I did other things for him, good stuff, you know, that I could persuade him, satisfy him. I was, am, going to be super nice to him. I mean super nice," said Bonnie.

"Super nice? You're kidding right? A man who's horny, as horny as I'm sure your husband is, can think of little else but pussy. And you told him he wasn't ever going to get any. You've lost him. I'm telling you that right now," said Marie.

"I still have my hole card. He's not going to go for a divorce because he knows I can rape him there. And, no, I did not threaten him with that again. I know my doing that the last time was maybe what drove him over the edge. But, in his head he'll know it, so I don't think he'll be pushing it. And, he is staying at the house. That puts him close enough for me to entice him with the other things I can do to make him happy, to satisfy him," said Bonnie.

"Girl, you're living in a dream world. I wouldn't doubt that he might just up and leave and not give a damn about anything the courts declare," said Marie. "I mean even if he did tell you he was staying at the house."

"No, I can't let him leave. He's the one that pays the bills and takes care of me. My job at the salon isn't near enough to support these digs. And, Michael would never leave his wife, that Ana woman, for me because of his five kids. So, Clyde has to stay and do his duty," said Bonnie.

"While you refuse to do yours?" said Marie.

"I am going to do my duty. I'm only denying him one thing. Everything else is his for the taking. And, add to that the way I intend to pamper and love him. He'll have no complaints when I'm through with him. Hell, Michael might even have reason to be jealous of him; I mean the way I will be treating him," said Bonnie.

I'd been lying on the bed all night hardly even getting up to pee. I was so mad I wasn't sure if I should even be staying here. I was actually half afraid I might get mad enough to do something to my wife. I kept taking deep breaths to calm myself down. Then the door opened.

She didn't say anything. She came to me. She was still dressed in her flannels. I was still naked. She got on the bed and took my penis in her hand and began to wank me off. But it was no use. She couldn't even get me up, not even a little. I was glad.

"Honey, are you all right. Did you, you know…?" she said.

"Masturbate? No. I just don't need or want you anymore. I don't even see you as a woman, just a pig, so go back to your room. We'll co-exist for a while, but we will not be lovers-phony lovers like you want us to be. So just fuck off, skank. I actually hate you," I said.

"Honey, please. Give me a chance. Please," she begged.

"I did and you shot me down. But, oddly, I'm glad you did. "It'll be easier to forget you now, skank. Get the fuck out of here" I said. She did finally get up and leave; she didn't cry, but she was shaking her head. It was as if she couldn't believe that "I" was being so unbending.

After some little time, I began to rationalize my situation. Did I still want to try and save the marriage? I wasn't sure anymore, but on some level, yes, I did. I wouldn't admit it to her; I wanted her to feel some of what she'd made me feel, but I did have some vague hope that the asshole would get his and I'd get her. Looking inside myself, I knew it was time to stop whining and actually do what I said I was going to do. I was going to go to war.

So, the hunt was on. She had a boyfriend who wasn't worth a damn. One who she claimed was only on the side. Well, two could play that game. And, that is exactly what I intended to do. Bonnie didn't know it yet, but as of last night we had de facto open marriage.

I'd laid down the law about the asshole ever coming into our house, but I had no intention of honoring my own rule. I was going to break it and that flagrantly if I could. I was still looking pretty good for my age. Still a tight five-ten and one-seventy-five. I didn't have a ten inch dick, but I did have a six incher, and that would just have to do.

"Whaddya mean I can't come around the house," said Michael Campanas. His voice was rising. "Of course I'm going to be coming around, and I want him to be sure to be there when I do show up. Got it? He's pussywhipped; he's not going to be denying me and you our fun. And, he's obviously afraid you'll kick him out and screw him over in the divorce. No, I will be coming over. And, you can rest easy; he ain't going anywhere; he's the wimpiest wimp of all time." He began to laugh.

"Michael, Clyde is awfully tough and awfully angry because you told me he couldn't have intercourse with me," said Bonnie. "I've so far honored your words, and he is frankly pussywhipped enough to hate it and accept it at the same time. But push him too far? You coming over is out of the question. He'll kill you and maybe me too in the bargain," she said. "He feels cornered right now, and a cornered husband can be very dangerous; I just know it."

"What? You really think that wimpy would mess with me? Now, I've heard everything. Can't wait to see him try," said Michael.

"Michael you're a fool. You really don't get it. Clyde was a white guy brought up on the south side of Chicago. When he was younger he was in more trouble than you could shake a stick at. Please don't come over, especially not when he's around, but really not anytime. Please!" she said. He just smiled. Michael Campanas had a foolproof plan; he was certain of it.

"Bonnie, Clyde's, what, five-eight? Maybe one-sixty?" said Michael.

"Five-ten, but I don't know how much he weighs, maybe two hundred," she said. She'd be somewhat surprised to later learn that while she was right about how tall I was; she was way off her estimation of my weight: I actually weigh in right at one-seventy-five.

Michael laughed. "He's nowhere near two-hundred; I've seen him. Nevertheless, I'm six-four and weigh in at two-forty, and in spite of what you may think, Bonnie, I ain't no pussy either. I'd tear is ass up if he came at me."

"I don't care, Michael, even if you could; he's my husband, and I don't want him hurt. Got it!" she said. "I need what you do for me but not at the expense of my marriage. I've already made compromises that have endangered it as it is, but no more."

He snickered, but for the moment didn't add anything to what he'd already said.

I was once again sitting in Bud's Bar, but now I had a table. And, now I had a mission: I was hunting for a woman, damn near any woman who'd wasn't gonna be all that particular about fucking a stranger on short notice, without the usual courting dance.

I'd danced a couple of times each with two or three of the regulars, and yes I knew them, but so far hadn't had a whiff of getting lucky. Then, I had a visitor.

"We gotta quit meeting like this," said Marie Bradshaw. "Someone might think I was trying to seduce my best friend's husband."

"Whaddya want, Marie. I moved back; you got you wish. It was a bad move. Just get the hell away from me," I said.

"Oh boy, she didn't exaggerate for damn sure. You are hot under the collar," she said.

"Buy a girl a drink?" she said.

"No."

"Okay, I'll buy you one," she said.

"No. Just leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you," I said.

"You know she's been crying her eyes out ever since you walked out last night," she said.

"Who? The skank?" I said.

"Jesus you are M-A-D!"

"No, just hurt, Marie. Hurt real bad. Now, if you will kindly leave me alone. I want to be alone," I said.

"Okay, but I have some news for you," she said.

"Harrumph!" I muttered.

"She's willing to forget that no intercourse thing she tried to sell you," said Marie. I gave her a look.

"That ain't what she said last night," I said.

"No, but it's what she told me half an hour ago. Anything to get you back," she said.

"Yeah right. Like I believe that," I said.

"It's true. She needs you Clyde, more than anything," she said.

"You said anything to get me back right?" I said.

"Yep," she said.

"Then, tell her that her lover is history. Not so much as a telephone call," I said. Marie gave me a look I couldn't quite figure, but nodded her agreement.

"Okay," she said. "So you will go back?"

"After she tells me she's done with the asshole," I said. Marie nodded and pulled her cell. She walked a few feet off and made the call. She talked for a minute and handed me the phone.

"Hello…

Bonnie talked for two straight minutes, with but little grunts and vocal nods from me the whole time. But, when it was all said and done; she promised to be a one man woman and that I was going to be that man.

"All right Marie," I said, turning to the messenger, "against my better judgment I'm going to trust that this is on the up and up. And, trust me, I'll know right soon if I'm being scammed," I said. And, I would know. Angel Cardoza, a client of mine was also a lieutenant on the force, and had a retired friend-retired from the force-who did investigative work for him from time to time. I would have him on retainer by 9:00AM on the morrow.

This time she greeted me with a hug and a kiss, a kiss on the cheek. This time I was going to call her on her lack of enthusiasm.

"You know, Bonnie, when I came back the last time, I got a hug. This time I got a hug right enough, but also a kiss on the cheek. What's wrong with my lips? I got bad breath or something? If you're playing me…"

"Oh my God no!" she said. She came to me and planted a scorcher on my lips." My look must have cued her that I was very suspicious of her antics.

"I-I-I just, well, I just don't know why I did it that way, kissed you I mean," she said.

"Maybe because you just don't love me that way?" I offered.

"My God, honey, you know better than that," she said. "You are the only person in the world I love. Please never doubt it. Maybe I don't always do things right, but I always mean to. Really." I nodded, but I was more than a little skeptical of her trustworthiness.

"Hmm, do I, Bon? Do I? I mean do I really know better than that? You were willing to cut me off just because your big dick told you to. So, do I believe you? I want to, but I really am not sure," I said.

"Honey, from now on, you can trust me, and I promise to at the very least endanger your lips early and often," she said. I snickered.

"Yeah, well we'll see," I said.

The sex that night was the best in a long time. She was certainly breaking mister Campanas' rules for damn sure.

She'd spun around after our last go 'round and had sucked me back to life. Now she rolled over on her belly and pushed her ass high into the air. "Honey, take my butt," she said. I was semi-exhausted having taken her twice already. But, I wasn't turning her ass down. She'd always denied it to me in the past. It was clear that now she was doing her damnedest to make things right by me. Still, I had to wonder if I as the first one in there or if it had been her asshole big dick.

I grabbed the KY that she'd posted on the night stand at the beginning of the festivities. I lubed her up pretty good. I was hard as a rock just at the thought of doing her back door let alone from her oral ministrations.

I entered her slowly taking care to not hurt her. I went in a little easier than I thought I might; I figured that might be telling. I began screwing her; again, at first slowly and then with increasing gusto. Soon I was ramming her for all I was worth. It took almost ten minutes to squeeze out the last dregs of cum from my shrunken ball sack. I felt her shiver and jerk wildly just as I'd cum: she'd made it too.

I collapsed on top of her and rolled off to the side. I was breathing hard. My unpleasant thoughts returned.

"I'm not the first to get your ass am I? I said.

"Honey, let's not talk about what went on before tonight, okay?" she said. I nodded. I was too tired to argue anyway. But, there would be a time. I wanted answers.

And, then it was morning of my third day back and I was about to go pro-active. The man's office was-what-tawdry. But, what the hell, I was there to get some help, and this was the guy my Angel had recommended.

He saw me appraising the place. "This is just part time for me," said Herman Westbrook, retired PD now a licensed, though but part time, PI. I nodded.

"So, I know Angel filled you in; can you help me?" I said.

"Of course. You want the works or just answers?" he said. I had to think about that one. The works were audio visual and background checks on any and all parties connected to the targets. Answers would just be confirmation one way or another of my suspicions. The former was costly, but probably useful in court, if it ever went that far. The latter just the signal to cut country and move on.

"The works. I want revenge if I'm being scammed," I said,

"You got it," he said. We talked a little longer, but in the end I left him to do what he did, and I went home.

The sex had been varietal and non-stop for all three nights I'd been home. For me it was a case of go to work in the morning, come home, eat; and fuck and suck and role play and those for several hours each night. She was wearing me out. I actually called for a time out on night four.

"Tired of me already, big boy," she said, teasing me.

"Not hardly, just need a breather is all," I said.

"Well if you're not up to the task, I just might have to get you some help," She said, laughing. My look sobered her real quick.

"Oh-Uh-sorry, honey. I was only joking. There'll be no more men. I swear," she said. I nodded, slowly, and let it go-for the moment.

Actually a "moment" turned out to be the next nine days; then I got the call. Mister Westbrook had me meet him at the Gallantry, a small bar and grill downtown. I was glad of the fact that it was close to my office; well, I did have to work for a living.

It was dark, but he was seated at the end of the bar nearest the door, and caught me as soon as I walked in.

He took me by the arm and led me to a booth against the far wall. He'd shushed me up before guiding me there. He pushed a slip of paper to me. It read: they're in the booth right behind you talking it up," said the note.

They were talking quietly. Apparently they hadn't seen us move into the booth right next to theirs. I could barely make out what they were saying.

"You know, Bon, I really really don't like this. If you want my dick it has to be on my terms," said Michael Campanas.

"I just can't do all of what you want. He'll divorce me, and I cannot afford to lose him; and, even if I could afford it, I don't want to," said my soon to be ex-wife.

"Well, all I can say is that you have to find a way," he said. "All of this sneaking around is a pain in the ass. It doesn't work for me. He's a whiny wimp, and he needs to understand his place and accept it."

"What we're doing is what's wrong, Michael, and I'm married to the man, not to you," she said. I heard him snicker.

"Well, let me ask you this. Are we going to get out of here and fuck or not?" he said. "Or are you going to sit there and whine about your whiny little man?"

"Let's go," she said. "I do need it. I'm horny as hell. And, I'm not whining."

I could hear them shuffling, I suppose collecting their stuff, and sliding out of the booth. As soon as they cleared the partition, they saw us, me and Herman.

"Clyde!" said Amanda. I just smiled.

"So wimpy decided he needed to spy on us," said the asshole. "Well, I can't say as it upsets me all that much.

"Hear you don't want me comin' around the house," he said.

"Well, as to that, you won't be able to, mister Campanas," I said.

"Think not, wimpy?" he said. I just continued to smile. I was praying he'd go for it. I gotten up and out of the booth. There was maybe three feet separating the asshole and myself.

"You two stop it this minute," said Amanda. Herman was just sitting back and-as I knew he was-getting it all recorded.

"Choose now, Amanda. Tell him to fuck off and die, and you and I will try to put the pieces back together-or not, if you don't want," I said. She looked at me. She looked at him. She tendered my chauffer a sidelong glance.

"Clyde, let's you and me get out of here. We need to talk," she said.

"Okay, but choose first," I said, not cutting her any slack.

"We both know who she's going to choose, don't we motherfucker," said the asshole.

"No, no, not sure yet, mister Campanas; but we will both know in a second. It'll either be a jerkoff like you or her legitimate husband. Right honey?" I said.

"Clyde! Michael! That's enough!" Amanda almost screamed.

"Choose," I said. "It's your last chance." She looked away.

"Okay, then, I guess that's it. The asshole wins. I'll have my lawyer working on things by high noon tomorrow," I said.

"Hey, wimpy, did you just call me an asshole?" said the asshole.

"Well, let me think. Uh-yes-I believe I did," I said.

He connected with his first shot. But it was a little high on the side of my head. He forced me to spin away and recover, but he hadn't hurt me to any significant degree. The really bad news for him was that he'd knocked me out of his range for a follow up. I set myself to do him hurt.

As soon as he moved in for what I'm sure he thought would be the kill, I moved slightly away to his left and drove into him with everything I had. I landed maybe a dozen right-left combos that he futilely tried to block. He was staggering and muttering obscenities-some of the latter of which were actually new to me.

He came at me bleeding from the nose, eyebrows, and mouth. A kick with my steel-toed boot to his knee cap elicited a chortling scream causing him to spit blood everywhere as he went down. A second kick to his face as he tried to rise, laid him out. I stomped down on his knee just as Herman rose to drag me away from him.

Amanda was stunned, speechless, and terrified.

He's all yours now baby. Have a nice life.

"Clyde…"

"Too late, Amanda, you had your chance; and you shined it on. Now you get to have the leftovers," I said.

"Clyde, we gotta go before the cops come," said Herman.

The cops did come, and they found me a couple of hours later sitting in the Bud's Bar, which had kinda become my home away from home: it was only couple of miles from the scene of the previous set-to. They cuffed me and took me in. Herman'd told me to expect that, and made me promise to make my one call to him; he'd take care of the rest.

I was arraigned the next day, and Herman was there with Jess Hardesty, lawyer extraordinaire, so Herman assured me.

"I was able to get us a short date," said mister Hardesty. "But Clyde, you really did a number on the guy. You might be going to do some time." My heart sank.

"For sure?" I said.

"'Fraid so," he said. "If you just hadn't stomped his ass while he was down. The law is clear: you are allowed to defend yourself, but gratuitous vengeance is a very big no-no."

"How much time," I said. I was really concerned now.

"Maybe a year considering the circumstances, but it could be as many as ten. Unlikely, but remotely possible. Depends on the judge," he said.

The gavel sounded. Bonnie screamed. I fell into the chair at my counsel's table. It was to be three to five at state. Judge Wilkins was a zero tolerance dude. Mister Campanas? Time served, three days. Turns out his one punch, even though it was the first punch, wasn't considered to be all that big a deal for judge Wilkins.

I was put in chains and led out. Mister Campanas was there to see me off. So was my wife. Oh, and yes, she was seated beside him in the gallery. My hatred knew no bounds. The good news? He was limping when he came up to the bar to sneer at me.

"Your wife and I will miss you, cuckold," he said. I forced myself to smile.

"I'll be getting out one day. We'll meet again," I said, as the marshall began to urge me out of the court room. Mister Campanas did seem to lose some of his composure at my words, but that might have been wishful thinking on my part.

Bonnie did not visit me in county before they sent me up state. I figured Campanas' hand in that one. But, two months into my sentence at the big house she did.

I wasn't cuffed or shackled when they let me in to see her; well, it was a public room.

"Oh my God, Clyde. What has Happened to us!" were her first words to me. They did seem appropriate. We took seats opposite each other at the little fixed-to-the-floor steel table with matching stools.

"What happened to us? Mister Campanas happened to us," I said. She ignored my words.

"Clyde, why did you have to hurt him so bad? He never did anything to you. He's an okay guy. He was just mad because you hurt his business. I know you didn't mean to, but you did, and he's had a hard time getting over it is all," she said.

"Hurt him? He hit me first. I had been about to let him slide, but them he threw on me. Then, well, all of the stuff you and him were doing to me, cuckolding me, came back to me; and I had to do him up. Will again too if I ever see him again. You can tell him that," I said.

"Clyde, you have to forget him. He's nothing to us. He's not between us.

"You know he has to use a cane now most of the time," she said.

"Hmm, yes, I should have gone after his nuts. Then, you probably wouldn't still be with him. You are still with him, right?" I said. She couldn't look me in the eyes.

"That's what I thought," I said. She looked up at me now.

"Someone has to help me make the house payments and everything, Clyde. And, he's willing to do that," she said.

"Yeah, well, when I get out; I'll be paying him back," I said. I was smiling when I said it. My sarcasm was not lost on her.

"Clyde, stop it. You've got to stop thinking that way. This violence has got to stop. I know you're a tough guy. If fact I told him that before everything," she said. "But-he thought he could win because he's so much bigger than you. I told him Clyde, I did. He just didn't understand.

"But, Clyde, it's you I love not him. When you get out, I will break it off with him. I just need him for the bills right now. You understand, dontcha, Clyde?"

"You know that makes you a prostitute, don't you, Bonnie. You're fucking him, and he's paying for it with money. You're a whore for money Bonnie."

"Clyde! Stop that. I am not a whore. Yes, I get sex on the side from him, but he has never had my heart. Only you get that-ever!" she said. She said it with so much emphasis that I was almost forced to believe her. "And, it pisses him off too, if you want to know," she added.

"I don't care one way or the other, Bonnie, when I get out I'm coming after him. Don't be with him. I don't want you to be collateral damage. I mean it, Bonnie. Don't be with him. He was upset over something that I didn't do? He's gonna finally have reason to be upset," I said. "Oh yeah, he's going to have real good reason for damn sure."

"Clyde you're scaring me," she said. I just stared at her with what I was sure were what amounted to dead eyes.

"No need for you to be scared. I'm not coming after you. You're just too stupid to realize what you've done and are continuing to do. Your hormones or whatever are ruling you. But him? Oh yeah, he's got reason to be scared," I said. "Just don't you be around him; just don't be." She actually shivered.

I stood, turned my back on her, and walked out. No goodbye, no hug-and they did allow it-no nuthin'; I just walked out. She didn't say anything either.

It would be a year before I got another visitor. And no, it was not someone I knew. But, it was someone I should've known. It was Ana Campanas.

"You look different than I'd imagined," she said.

"So you're the asshole's wife," I said. I had no way to know what she wanted, and she was married to the fuckwad asshole that had been the cause of my current predicament; ergo, not a friend-unless.

"Yes, yes I am," she said. "I just found out about you two days ago, and my husband's dalliances with your wife of course. Caught 'em in the act. He'll be served divorce papers tomorrow. At his office, divorce papers among other things."

"Interesting. Wish I could be there to see it go down' I said.

"Yes, I would imagine," she said. "I'm a lawyer, mister Armistead. I'm going to cook his goose. You wanna help me?" I gave her a look that caused her to give me a look.

"It's not rocket science, mister Armistead. It might help your own divorce if you decide to go for one when you get out," she said.

"Yeah, well that might be a while," I said.

"Help me, and I might be able to help you," she said. Now, she had my attention.

"Okay," I said.

Turned out that missus Campanas was not only a lawyer, but an adjunct judge. Had to wonder how her errant husband figured to get away with playing around on her. But then, maybe it was the very fact that she was a judge made it easier for him. She was too damn busy for him, so he looked elsewhere and had no trouble justifying himself doing so in the process.

"How would you like to leave this den of iniquity," she said. And she said it with a straight face. I chortled but tried to stifle it at the same time: tough to do. She just smiled.

"You can't get me out missus Campanas. I messed up your hubby pretty good and the judge threw the book at me," I said.

"The lieutenant Governor is my cousin. You leave getting you out to me," she said. I shrugged my willingness to follow her lead, like I had a choice.

"Okay," I said.

"Mister Armistead, come with me please," said the screw.

"Yes, sir," I said. He gave me a look. I just looked down: one learned to do that in the joint. Piss off a guard and bad things happened.

He didn't take me where I expected to go. He took me to Inception. "Put these on," he said, they were my own clothes. "Then, follow mister Stagg. You're being processed out of here," he said.

"Out?" I said. "You mean…"

"You evidently have friends, mister Armistead. Yes, out. We'll miss you he said," but he was smiling. I just nodded.

It had to be missus Campanas; she'd just seen me but a week past. I couldn't believe it. I guess influence is what influence is: lesson learned.

There was a car waiting outside the gate. It pulled up alongside me as I made my way across the parking lot toward the bus stop.

"Get in, mister Armistead," said missus Campanas. My smile was as big as all outdoors.

"How are we doing mister Armistead," she said, as we drove out of the lot and away from state prison. She was smiling too.

"Is that a serious question? I feel wonderful!" I said, answering her question.

"Well, good. And, I am sure you do, feel good that is.

"I won't be taking you home right away. My husband, your worst enemy by all accounts, is there. He's been overnighting for the past few days; he believes I'm on one of my business trips. I'm a lawyer as I mentioned before. I do mostly corporate work, and of course that involves a deal of travel," she said.

"Okay, well, if I'm not going home, where are you taking me?" I said.

"To my place. He won't be there till I'm due back, so you will be taking his place for the duration," she said. For the first time I took the time to appraise mister Campanas' wife. She was a looker for sure. Long dark hair, maybe 34Bs, tallish at maybe five-seven, slim, pretty face: it was a mystery to me why the asshole would feel the need to chase after other men's wives. Of course in my case it may really have been a matter of revenge for my supposed intervention in his business affairs.

"Ana, I really should just go home. I need to put an end to either my marriage or to the affair. Ideally, I'd like you to be there, you know, kinda acting as my lawyer and as a witness to anything that might go down-and for yourself too if it comes to that. I do not want to go back inside-not ever," I said.

"You sure?" she said.

"Yes," I said. She nodded, slowly, but she nodded.

"Okay, then, let's do it." We were hammer down until we were within blocks of the house, my house.

We didn't exactly creep into the house, but we did go slow and easy, not talking at all. It was late afternoon. They were in the kitchen jabbering. I signaled Ana to keep it on the quiet and to follow me.

We slipped into the den to the left of the kitchen and gave a listen. Ana surprised me, she pulled out a small pocket recorder and clicked it on. Whatever they said, we were not only going be privy to it; we were going to have a record of it.

"Bonnie, he's going to be inside that place for several more years minimum. You need to divorce him; then, I need to divorce the ice princess; and then we can get married. You know you want to, and I know you want to," said Michael Campanas.

"Divorce him while he's inside? Kinda cold even for us, dontcha think," said Bonnie.

"Actually, it's the more merciful thing to do. He hates me, and probably you too now. It might sting him a little in the beginning, a divorce, but in the end he'd be free, and probably relieved. He could never satisfy you now, girl, you've had the real thing. You know it and I know it. Let's cut the crap and get it done," he said. He began to laugh.

"What's so funny," said Bonnie.

"I could even get my wife to do your divorce on the cheap. Wouldn't that be a kick," he said.

"Yes, and what are you going to do when she finds out you're divorcing her! My bet is that she would end up in the hospital needing surgery to extract her foot from your ass," said Bonnie.

"No problem there, I have it all set up. She's gonna get caught with a shit load of middle-weight crack. This is a zero tolerance state. She'll lose her license and do maybe five to ten in the bargain," he said. "Hell, I'll get it all in the divorce.

"Are you insane!" said Bonnie. "I won't be a party to doing something like that to another person."

"You already are. If you hadn't testified against your man, he wouldn't have gotten such a tough sentence," said Michael.

"I told the truth, but I did not try to have my husband put in prison, and as for that I deserve to be there, and so do you, as much as he ever did," said Bonnie.

I motioned Ana to follow me. I sat her down there in the den, and went to the mini-bar and poured us each a drink. I sat down across from her and raised my glass in toast. Of course it was a silent toast. I wanted the two mating birds to find us and maybe have heart attacks in the doing.

I did have to say I was feeling a little better-not much-but a little better about Bonnie than I had originally. Yeah, she was still hung up on super dick, but not buying into his twisted sense of social relationships and conspiracies.

Ana was smiling broadly. She figured out my ploy and was really getting into it. And then it happened.

The scream made the both of us jump. "Clyde!"

I raised my glass to her. "Yep it's me. Aren't you glad to see me?" I said, false sincerity all but dripping from my tongue.

"Uh-yes, of course-but how?" she muttered. Just then mister Campanas made his entrance, no doubt wondering at the scream.

"Ana!" he gasped. Ana decided to mimic me.

"Yep it's me. Aren't you glad to see me, Michael?" she said. He was speechless.

"How much… " started Bonnie.

"How much did we hear?" I said, nodding toward Ana. "Pretty much all of it. You know, him trying to get you to conspire with him to set up his wife here. If I may, you should join our side and testify against the asshole; you'd get a "stay out of jail free card" for the doing." I looked at Ana for confirmation, she nodded her agreement. "See."

"Of course you'd have to give up his big dick. You know the one you've sacrificed so much to keep around," I said.

"Shut the fuck up, butthead," he said, indicating that he was referring to me. "Your wife's on my side. You ain't got what it takes to keep a quality woman like this around.

"You sucker punched me last time, asswipe, this time you won't be so lucky," he said. I could feel my face cloud up.

"What did you say, mister, Campanas?" I sensed that my words shook him. He snarled at me, but made no move to approach me. I stayed seated.

"You men stop that stupid posturing right this minute!" said Bonnie, asserting herself.

I waited. He didn't respond. I just kept staring at him.

"Anyway, Mikey, fancy meeting you here. I mean in another woman's house," said Ana breaking into the conversation.

"I'm glad you're here," he said. I guess he knew he was toast, so he was opting for bravado in defense of the indefensible.

"Yes, I'm sure you are. But, now you will have to come up with a different plan to set me up. I mean since I now know about your plan to ambush me," she said. "I mean now that I know I will be coming after you with a stick-figuratively speaking of course."

"Honey, can we talk?" said Bonnie, looking at me. Looking at her I had to think her expression was forlorn.

"Sure we're going to need to if you agree to help us fuck over this motherfucker," I said, nodding in the direction of mister ten-inch. She began to fidget. For his part he was looking at her with questioning eyes. Questioning, evidently, because she hadn't told me to forget it.

"Bonnie?" queried mister toad.

"I'm sorry, Michael, but I will have to tell the truth. You might want to leave now and get yourself a lawyer," said Bonnie. "I won't exaggerate or try to help them hurt you, but I simply will not lie," said Bonnie.

"But…"

"There have been enough lies, Michael. There will be no more, not from me," she said. I was smiling very broadly. And, so was Ana: she had him by the short hairs and it had to be very uncomfortable for him. I did not miss the look I received from Bonnie.

"So whaddya think," said Ana, as we drove off.

"Me? I don't know. We surprised them. Hell, Bonnie surprised me," I said. Ana gave me a look.

"Yes, she kinda did me too. I think she still loves you. More, I think she may have fallen out of love, lust, whatever with my asshole," she said.

"He did kinda bite it today didn't he. Have to figure some of what he said was mere face saving bravado. I mean you catching him like that left him kinda without any place to go. If you know what I mean," I said.

"As to that I intend to serve him with papers by the end of the week. He'll be able to find a place in hell then. They, the papers, are already drawn up. I just have to put the final touches on them and then it's au revoir asshole," she said. "His cock is primo, but not that primo. But, as to that, I guess your wife thought it was."

"Yeah, she did," I said. "More, she was willing to cut me off to please him in order to keep his king sized appendage. I'm still having trouble getting past that."

"Hmm, I can imagine," she said.

I was sitting with her when she and her asshole had their day in court. She raped him economically and was granted full custody of the children; and with three of us, yes the three of us, testifying, he barely escaped doing jail time for the almost attempted plot to screw over Ana. It was a good day and that even for me.

I saw Bonnie glance my way as we exited the courtroom. It was clear to me that she wanted to talk. I did too, but I wasn't going to make the first move; she'd have to be the one to do that. She didn't make it, so we went our separate ways. Ana and I to celebrate, and her to wherever. The asshole probably had reservations in the sixth pit of the devil's nether mansion; well, one could hope.

I woke up sighing. I'd been doing a lot of that anymore. I had kinda thought that my woman, well, she who used to be my woman, might have wanted to try and get back together with me, but maybe not.

It had been two weeks since Ana's courtroom victory dance over the defeated and prostrate body, figuratively, of her now ex-husband, Michael Campanas. She'd gotten everything but his jock strap and that she hadn't wanted or she'd have gotten it too.

I rolled out of bed and into the shower, which was followed by me throwing a robe over my naked body and heading into the miniature kitchen of the apartment unit I had most recently been calling home. And then there was a knock on the door. Seven freakin' o'clock in the morning, and someone was knocking on my door. If it was the JWs I was not figurin' on bein' pleasant.

Opening the door I got the surprise of my life. "Bonnie!" She looked fantastic. Fantastic enough to cause an unusually rapid swelling of my less than threatening manhood; and well, I was naked under my robe. It was embarrassing. She noticed it and she smiled; but she did not take the shot that she easily could have.

"Yes, it's me," she said. "Can I come in; it's cold out here?"

"Uh-yeah-sure, I guess so," I said. Well she was very pretty and she'd caught me by surprise. I stood back to let her enter. I got control of my wits. "What do you want Bonnie? To what do I owe this obscenely early visit to my humble dwelling?" She sighed.

"I couldn't sleep last night, and you darn well know why, and so I decided to come here and share my fatigued and frustrated state with you," she said. "Besides I was of the opinion-the hope-that you needed me."

I stared at her for a full minute. "You say that I know why you were sleepless last night. Fact is I'm not sure I do. So why don't you clear up my-what-confusion," I said.

"Because I love you and miss you, dummy!" she said. I guess I looked dubious.

"Really," I said. "I mean Michael may be history, but your need for large cocks?" I said.

"Also, history. Oh, I still want and need good sex which you will have to be seeing to now. But, as for the other-no more. And, to clarify some more. I need what you bring to the table even more than I originally thought. It's all I think about these days, Clyde. The safety, the security, the kindness, the gentleness of your soul. I can't live without them, Clyde. And, I mean I can't live without them and the author of them. Please come home to me you beautiful man and protect and love me like you used to. Please!" she said.

"Bonnie, you can believe that I want to come home to you. You can believe that I want to believe you But…"

"Clyde, you have to give me-us-this chance. Yes, I know we've been here before, but not like this, not like this, really."

"And what if he comes back, makes another play for you?" I said.

"In that event I will need surgery to have my foot removed from his ass. He is really and truly history, Clyde." I nodded.

"Okay, Bonnie, maybe. But, I will be talking to my lawyer before I commit to renewing us," I said. Her turn to nod.

"Okay, Clyde, anything you say so long as it brings us back together.

My call to Ana Campanas was lengthy. Our meeting at Giordonos B&G later the same day was even lengthier. I spent most of our time together listening, nodding, and repeating my new mantra "yes ma'am" to everything she suggested.

"Clyde, I know the man. He shitting his pants right now because he's afraid I might cut him off from his children-and I still might. Nonetheless, even with such being true, he's a very weak man; and he will mostly likely sin again, and that with your wife. He'll try at any rate. Whether she can withstand his almost indefensibly powerful assault on her sexual being is more than iffy. So, she signs the post-nup or you don't commit, not even," said Ana.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. She smiled.

She did sign and that without hesitation; she kinda surprised me. And, just like that we were back together. And, then, about a year after the events hitherto described, the dust had settled; and, just as Ana had predicted, Michael Campanas was back on the campaign trail. His campaign? Why to get Bonnie-and me if you can believe it-on board with some threesome fun and games, as he described them to me-yes me.

The weird thing was that this time around he did not seem to care about the Crocker account that he had blamed the losing of on me. No, nor was he trying to get Bonnie to cut me off or in any way trying to come between us. He just wanted in on the action if that's the right way to say it.

And, what was even weirder, he came to me about it, as I said, first, not my wife. Though intrigued by his unbelievably brash approach, I sent him off with his tail between his legs. Should've been the end of things with him, right? No, not with Michael Campanas. No sir. He accosted my wife next, and that at a time I should have been nowhere to be found. "Should have been," being the operative term. I was around, just around the corner in fact. Around the corner and downstairs in the basement actually. I heard it all when she answered the door.

"Michael! What are you doing here! Get away from me. I never want to see you again," she said.

"Now is that anyway to welcome an old friend come to visit," he said.

"Michael you and I are through. There is nothing left. You damn near cost me my marriage, and yes, I admit that it was every bit as much my fault as yours; but I'm not risking that again for you or anyone else. Got it? I do not intend to have you come and finish the job!" she said.

"You know I went and talked to Clyde before coming here today, don't you?" he said.

"Yes, and Clyde told me he sent you home with an unequivocal forget it, or did I get that part wrong," she said.

"Well, sort of. He almost seemed like he might want to try it, but just not with me maybe. I'm not sure," said Michael.

"Listen up, Michael, Clyde is a one woman man and will tolerate none but a one man woman. So just don't come around anymore. I mean it. And you better get outta here. Clyde's due back, if he sees you on this doorstep he'll kick your ass from here to Mexico, and I am not kidding," she said.

"Look, Bonnie, I love your pussy and you love my cock. We're made for each other, at least on a part time basis.

"Tell you what, meet me at the starlight tomorrow morning, you know after Clyde goes to work. He'll never know; hence he will never be hurt. Best of all possible worlds, right?" he said.

"Listen, asshole, for the last time. I've got a husband who loves me. And, though he doesn't know it yet, he's got a son on the way who is going to love the both of us. And, more than anything, I gonna be loving the both of them. So, in the words of the great William Shakespeare-fuck off!"

He did fuck off, and he made a play to come back to his wife, Ana. And, in spite of his willingness to conspire to get her out of the way and into prison, she's actually considering it. She and I are going to have a talk; it's gonna be my turn to be advising her.

And, yes fans, we did live happily ever after.

-----------------------------

   Series:Broken Promises
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:He sacrifices everything for her, but he is betrayed in the end
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/22010/broken-promises-by-matt-moreau
Published:2020-04-04
The Lincoln limo and the chauffeur that would be driving it was parked but a few yards from my prom date's front door. Oh, and I'm Julian Willis; and my prom date was miss all-everything socially speaking, Marian Randall.

It had cost my folks a few hundred dollars to outfit me for this, my, our, May 1968 junior-senior prom. The corsage I would momentarily be presenting to my date alone cost fifteen dollars.

I knocked. It was but a short minute before the older man, my date's dad, answered the door. He knew me.

"Julian," he said, seeming surprised to see me.

"Yes, sir," I said, smiling, "none other. I'm here to pick up my beautiful date." He looked concerned, worried, something.

"Julian? She's already gone to the prom with William," he said. I stared; I couldn't believe it. I knew who William was, William Carton, her used-to-be boyfriend. Used to be because she'd kicked him to the curb two months gone having caught the asshole cheating on her.

"But…?" I said.

"She told me that she'd told you of her change of plans," he said. I was all but speechless. I finally found my voice.

"Oh, okay, I must have misunderstood her," I said. I turned to go back to the car. I could see that Mister Randall was eying my ride, my very expensive ride.

"Julian, please come in," he said, more or less marching me by my arm: his grip was iron; well, he was a big guy.

"She stood you up, didn't she?"

"It's okay, I must have misunderstood her. My fault," I said.

"Yeah, like that's the truth," he said. "Have a seat." I didn't want to sit, but I did.

Over the next half hour, I got a lecture and some advice. No, that's not right, not advice; it was an order. I would go to the prom and pick up a girl who was there also without a date, and make her my date: proving thereby, as he said, that she, Marian, was replaceable. Rub Marian's nose in it so to speak. And, he added, that his daughter was going to be more than sorry for her bad behavior as soon as she returned from her misbegotten, singularly misbegotten, lack of common decency.

I'd, earlier that day, already parked my car, well, my dad's '64 Ford Fairlane, in the lot behind the gym, as had a number of other guys, who, like me, planned to go to one or another of the post-prom all-nighters: the limo was only for the ride to the prom, kind of a bit of teenage snobbery.

I'd still be needing my dad's car whether or not I got me a date to go to the all-night party with. I had gotten us, Marian and I, an invitation to Phyllis Schroeder's do. I don't think Phyllis'd be minding if my hoped-for date turned out to be somebody other than miss Randall.

I was still holding the corsage I'd purchased; well, my dad had, as I ascended the steps to the gym where the prom per se would be taking place. I got lucky. A neighbor girl, she lived five doors up from us was about to climb the same steps that I was already halfway up.

I knew Ava, Ava Gardner, no relation to the famous actress, had no date. Ava was fifty pounds overweight-my unscientific estimate-and not very popular. I had always liked her, though not as boyfriend-girlfriend material. We were both seniors and at that moment, both dateless. Well, I wasn't exactly mister popular either.

The fact was that Marian Randall only paid attention to me in school because I would do what she said when she said to do it. I knew it and I dealt with it. It was what it was. She was one of those people that other people referred to as an A-listers.

I waited for Ava to catch up with me on the steps.

"What?" she said, as she came up to where I was waiting.

"You're my date tonight, right?" I said. I was smiling, sort of.

"Huh?" I handed her the corsage, well I kinda extended to her. My raised eyebrow got me a smile.

"Okay," she said. She waited while I pinned it on her formal.

The gym was full and so were most of the tables. Ava and I were able to find a couple of seats on the far side of the gym. I hadn't spotted my previously supposed date yet, but the truth was, I didn't really care. Ava may not have been the beauty queen that Marian was, but with any kind of luck I figured with Ava on my arm I'd be having a deal more fun anyway. I silently wished good luck to good old William.

Ava and I had danced two times before I spotted them. The good news was they spotted me and Ava at the same time. I smiled and waved. Marian turned away from me. She was clearly embarrassed. It occurred to me that she likely didn't think that I would even come. Women, couldn't trust 'em or figure 'em out worth a darn; well, I couldn't.

It was getting latish before the enemy made any attempt to talk to me. I was getting Ava and I some more punch, and yes, I do think that somebody had messed with it, rum maybe, but that was just a guess.

"I guess I owe you an apology," said Marian, coming up to me. I turned to look at her. I smiled.

"No problem, I got me a better date," I said. She frowned.

"That's not a very nice thing to say," she said.

"Really," I said. "Nevertheless, it's a true thing. You know better than somebody who lies."

"Well, screw you," she said. "And your girlfriend is fat!"

"Back atcha, and yes, maybe, but not fat headed," I said. Jesus I was feeling good.

The irony in that was the truth that it was her daddy that had advised me to look elsewhere for a girl. His advice had somehow caused me to have a deal more self-confidence than might have been.

She stormed off to find her date. She found him. I saw her find him as I was walking back to Ava. He was dancing with another girl. Talk about serendipitous situations.

The prom just referred to had been on the first Saturday in May, Graduation was to be the second Saturday in June. That of course meant that there would be five weeks of school left after the prom, and five more weeks of me getting cold looks from Marian Randall; and yes, we did have a couple of classes together, but at least not 'all' of our classes were together.

It was lunch time, the Tuesday after the prom, and I was in line waiting for my share of meatloaf and spinach. Ava was not in school: she'd been sidelined by the flu bug that was lately making the rounds. Marian came up behind me as I got my plate of food and turned to find myself a table; she'd already gotten hers; she'd staked out a bench outside under the overhang; I'd noticed her when I came in.

"Tempt you to eat with me big guy?" I looked her up and down.

"No," I said, and made to stride past her, but she grabbed my arm to stop me. I almost dumped my plate.

"Look, I did you wrong. I admit it. It wouldn't kill you to forgive me this one time and kinda let bygones be bygones," she said.

"No, it wouldn't kill me, and it wouldn't interest me," I said.

"Well, screw you then," she said, and she strode off-again.

Lunch hour over, a note was delivered to Miss Sunsari who delivered it to me. I was to report to the office immediately. Two minutes later I was marching down the hall toward principal Riene's throne room. I saw my older brother Blake Willis waiting for me at the door. He'd not set foot in the school since my freshman year. There was something going on. And, whatever it was, it figured not to be good.

"Come on," said my brother. He began heading out of the building and toward where I was certain his Buick was parked.

"What's going on?" I said, tugging at his sleeve. I was worried, very worried. He stopped walking and turned to me. He'd been walking fast; I'd had to double time it to keep up with him. He was shaking his head, and seemed about to cry.

"Damn it, Blake, what!" I said. He swallowed.

"Julian, there's been an accident. Mom and Dad… " he said.

"Huh?" I said.

"They died at the hospital, less than an hour ago," said Blake. "We're going there now. He turned and began walking again, but his pace was a mite slower. I was right behind him.

My brother, Blake, Blake Willis, and I stared as they lowered the single, shared coffin into the earthen space opening that would be forever our parents common grave. We were alone. We had no close relatives, and had not seen those not so close ones in virtually ever. He, my brother, had paid a lot of money to have the coffin specially made so mom and dad would be able to lie together. They, our parents had always been tight; the coffin thing was fitting; yes, it was.

Blake was ten years older than was I, at his age of twenty-eight. A genius at finance, he was already a millionaire, already lived in an expensive condo here in downtown Phoenix, Arizona, and was still singularly single and proud of it.

I, being eighteen and about to graduate from high school, was a technical adult, but by no means an independent one. I'd be initially living with my big bro's help until such time as I was, independent that is.

We'd been a close family and Blake owed his start in the big money game to dad, who had long sold insurance and NASD stock portfolios for a living. Blake began doing the same thing while taking courses at the local junior college in finance and economics.

After graduating from PCC; he'd continued his studies, but at the public library. He maintained that he learned far more there than he had in his formal college classes. And, he had a goal: he was intent on becoming a billionaire. I had my money on him; he was one horse a sane person would never bet against, not ever.

I knew for a flat fact that I would never be rich, but I had other qualities. I was hard working, I was honest, I was loyal; and, I was short, skinny, and not actually ugly. Hard to beat a combination like that; well, that's what I kept telling myself.

We stood watching the men with the shovels cover our parents remains. Sad did not begin to express how we felt. Blake turned to me.

"I guess we have to go," he said. I nodded.

"I hate cars," I said. It'd been an auto accident that had taken them.

We headed back up the not very steep hill to where his Buick was parked.

A lot of things happened over the next days. One, I'd graduated. I was granted a diploma without even having to take any more classes or final exams. Principal Riene actually got the superintendent of the district to okay it; well, I was a straight-A student and had never missed a day of classes in four years.

At the hospital Blake and I had seen mom and dad for the last time. Blake being a serious adult, and an adult with money, had made all of the arrangements.

Ava, having gotten over the flu bug was over at our place, my folk's place, a lot during the following days, mostly, as I saw things, to support me.

I was staying at the house rather than with Blake after the first week. It was an older house. I know the folks had paid fifteen thousand for it when it was new, some ten years earlier. It was our place now, his and mine. Somewhere down the line, we'd likely sell it. But for the short term at least, I was going to be busy packing up the folk's stuff and putting the place together so as to be able to, that is sell it when we, really me, were ready to do so if we actually decided to. Blake understood my wanting to stay there, and I did want to.

Chapter 2

Ava had decisions of her own to make and challenges to deal with quite apart from supporting me emotionally, and I did need her support, oh my I did.

She had also turned eighteen in the past couple of months, and living with foster parents, she was about to be out amongst them as they say. The Gordons, the family she'd been living with since being abandoned as a six year-year-old child were not exactly shooing her out, but they were about to lose state support and so the handwriting was on the wall. Ava needed to get a job and find her own way as an adult and that as soon as possible. That said, she was about to get lucky.

A month and a half had passed since the funerals. Ava and I were sitting on 'my' patio drinking tea; she'd brewed it. She was looking down and clearly wanted to tell me something.

"Ava?" I said.

"I have to move out by the end of the month," she said.

"From the Gordon's?" I said. She snickered, but it was a case of sardonic snickering.

"Of course," she said. "I have gotten a job though, just yesterday in fact. I'm going to be a grocery checker. Pays okay, but it's going to be tough until I can get enough together to get my own place. The Gordons said that they'd loan me the money to get into a place, but I know that they don't have much to get on with, and they've been good to me and all, but…"

"Look, Ava, you can stay here if you want. I promise to keep my hands to myself. Well, I mean I am a gentleman," I said. She gave me a questioning look.

"Julian, that would be wonderful. But I mean would Blake be okay with something like that?" she said.

"I'll worry about Blake. You can move in right away. You'll actually have his old room," I said.

Blake did turn out to be good with the deal. Well, there had been no doubt in my mind that he would be. He wanted me to be happy I guess would be the way to say it.

At any rate, Ava moving in with me made life wonderful, well, for me. We had no rent to pay; Blake had paid the house off a few years before for the folks. But Ava and I would still have everything else to take care of: utilities, phones, food, medical stuff, the car's gas and insurance; Blake would be covering me until I was employed, so I didn't have to worry overmuch about things for the moment. And I was certain that I'd be working soon enough.

I did have my dad's Fairlane which was free and clear; so, otherwise things were okay. Still, to be clear; Ava's moving in with me was not wonderful because of the sex; there was no sex, and there wouldn't be for a long time, a very long time; it was the deal we had made with each other at the beginning. We were smart enough to know we were too young to play that game.

Over the next months, she cooked and went to work during the daytime; and I continued working around the house and looking for a job for myself, well, most days. And yes, we had become boyfriend and girlfriend, sort of. And no, again, we didn't do the deed; we were kind of afraid to, being as young and totally inexperienced as was in fact the case.

By summer's end, August '68, I got lucky and got myself hired on at Westside Rock and Sand; I would be a driver; well a trainee to be a driver initially, but a full-fledged teamster soon enough.

With us both working and Blake keeping an eye on the two of us: he did have dinner at the house with us most Sunday evenings, and was at pains to compliment Ava's cooking every time. And then things started to change. The biggest change? Ava began losing weight.

I'd discovered, after she'd moved in, that my girlfriend actually weighed in right at 185 pounds. At her five-seven stature, she was indeed arguably overweight. She had made me a promise that she was going to lose the extra pounds anyway she could. I'd laughed and told her she was fine as far as I was concerned. But she'd pooh-poohed me brushing me off.

Still, by January of 1970, a year and a half after moving in with me, she was down to maybe 120; I'd had to admit she'd succeeded beyond my expectations, or hers either I was sure. She'd lost sixty-five pounds. And she was gorgeous! Her backside was traffic endangering. Her B-cups likewise. Her long dark hair was beautiful. And her eyes were big and dark and flashing. Blake opined that she was looking like her namesake, the beautiful Ava Gardner of movie fame; I agreed with him. He laughed when I told him he could eat his heart out.

"What I didn't know at the time was that Ava had had help losing the weight. Ava had an acquaintance she'd met at the grocery store, name of Dante Rodriguez. Dante, I would later learn, was an illegal druggist, a pimp, and a wannabe human trafficker of girls. Dante was helping my Ava lose weight by means of seriously bad stuff, cocaine. She'd been paying for the stuff with her body, which was something else I would eventually learn.

Having Blake to back us up made life less stressful than might have been, but nevertheless, we did have a bevy of responsibilities as noted and we dealt with them and that successfully. One thing that both Ava and I wondered at was why, with his looks and money, Blake didn't date, and he didn't. And, any time I brought up the subject he brushed me off. He just said the time wasn't right and let it go at that.

At any rate Ava's job at Ninth Street Grocers and mine at Westside Rock and Sand had us in a good place. I would never be the kind of money man my brother was, but I didn't need to be. He had, as a matter of fact, offered to take me under his wing and make me rich; but I saw how pressed he always was for time and how he always seemed to be trying, almost desperately, to make his next dollar. I wanted something more, well different, for me. But then there was the other thing.

Ava and I were close, but still officially only friends. Yes, we did date, and that quite a bit. That said and admitted to, as previously related, we did not do anything marital. Was I desperate to change up that little reality? I suppose I was. I was still a virgin, and I assumed so was Ava, but, as to that, the truth was I did not know for sure; and, I didn't have the balls to enquire. At any rate, I had dreams, and they were pretty explicit. I think she knew it too. She didn't say anything, but the smirks she sometimes tendered me were numerous and kinda cruel in a good way if such were even possible.

We had been living together, more or less like roommates for three years. Christmas '71 was just around the corner. Blake had feted us for Thanksgiving and it was nice, a few friends, and a few of his employees and he did have a few, had joined us. The dinner and party per se were held at his condo downtown; well, it was super fancy. My Ava, and that's how I saw her, was especially comely, so I thought. I made the decision that night to propose and that soon, very soon. I mean what was the worst that she could do, tell me no! I didn't see that happening. We had been doing so well together, and we were both twenty-one years old. So no, there would be no more delays; chicken I was but not that big a chicken.

Christmas ('71) was two weeks away. It was Sunday. She was home. I was home. The TV was off. The weather was good. My mouth was dry, and I discovered to my personal disgruntlement that I really was indeed that big a chicken. But I decided to tough it out, take my shot, damn the torpedoes, and just go for it.

"Something wrong? I mean if you're too tired," she said, as we sat sipping our afternoon coffees. We'd been talking about maybe going out to dinner.

"No, no, I just have something on my mind," I said.

"Okay?" she said. I reached into my pocket and pushed the little box across the table to her. She stared at it. She stared at me. She clearly knew what it was.

"Well, will you?" I said, all but choking on my own spit. She smirked.

"Will I what?" she said, challenging me. She had not yet picked up the little box: the one with the $565 ring in it.

"Darn it Ava, you know what. Will you marry me!" I said. Now she did pick up the box. She opened it. Her smile was a definite positive. I sighed my relief.

"Yes," she said. I got up came around to her, knelt before her and pulled her face down to mine. The kiss was gentle, romantic, but a scorcher for all of that. I slid the ring onto her finger.

The talk immediately thereafter, well the jabbering, went on for some time: topics covered, the guest list, the venue, the reception and the cost for all of it. A lot of things needed taking care of. And then the biggest question of all, well, for me: when would we get it done. We talked a little bit more, and decided on Valentine's Day, that would be two months hence, February 14th, 1972.

I contacted Blake and he was all happy for us and supportive and offered to pick up the tab, and I, without Ava's consent, gave my immediate and enthusiastic okay. Oh yes I did.

Our first argument, well spirited discussion, as a couple, occurred the next evening.

"Honey, I know this is Christmas season, but I am not, repeat not, going to do the big eating thing and gain back the weight I've so far been able to lose." she said.

I'd made offhand comments about her being markedly slimmer than she had been when we were still in school, but she'd always pooh-poohed my words. Well, we were both oh so well aware of the truth that she'd gotten a lot slimmer.

"Honey girl, you look fine, really," I said.

"Nevertheless, the meds that have gotten me to where I am, and the exercise; Well, it's been a bit of a challenge and I am committed to not gaining back the weight," she said. We talked a bit longer. But in the end, I gave in; I mean what did I have to gain by arguing with the woman. Answer, I had nothing to gain.

At any rate, it wasn't so much her words it was the shortness of her tone that bothered me. I hadn't even known she'd been to the doctor let alone been using weight control meds. I knew how such things were with women, men too sometimes, so I just shut up and said no more. All of that said, I did have an ally.

"Blake, you're almost on time, gonna ruin your reputation," I said, smiling.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't wanna be doing that," he said.

"Anyway, welcome to our Christmas Eve special dinner," I said.

"Yes," echoed Ava entering the room from the kitchen.

"Let's all go into the den," I said. We all did.

"So, you've set a date for sure then," said Blake. I was pouring the drinks: white wine for my woman and JD for me and Blake.

"Yes," I said, "Valentine's Day."

"How freakin' romantic," he said, and laughed. The next weeks were good ones for us. And my almost skinny and supper beautiful woman were eating regular food. I mean her diet was history, for a brief moment, which allowed me to settle down a bit, thank you Jesus. But gain, while she didn't exactly pig out, she was eating normally as I saw things.

Chapter 3

Dante Rodriguez stared at the woman across from him. "Ready to come back for some of the good stuff?" he said.

"No, Dante, I told you at the end of October that that was it, there was gonna be no more, stuff, and I meant it. I'm engaged now, and I am not gonna be going back down that road," said Ava.

"I gotta tell yuh, I did think you'd be coming back for some more of you know what if not the stuff," he said, grabbing his crotch. Ava Gardner, she was still that, grimaced.

"Did you not hear me? I'm engaged. I need you to leave me alone. This is my work place, and I have to get back to work. Please do not bother me anymore," said Ava.

"All right for now," he said, "but I'll be around if you need me. I mean you do know how to find me. And, girl, you will be needing me; it's nature as the man said." She watched as the man rose, turned, and walked out of the store's lunchroom where he had closeted her to make his pitch.

That she'd let the man use her in lieu of the outrageous amount of money he wanted for the "good" stuff weighed on her conscience. But she had lost the weight, her friend at the store had been right; the drugs might have been illegal, but they were also effective. The good news was that they, the drugs, had not been as addictive as she'd at first feared. Still, it had taken some effort to get away from them. Dante had laughed when she'd told him that she was done with them; that'd been three months gone. Now he'd shown up to try and rekindle their agreement. She had to hope that he'd gotten the message-finally.

Actually, Dante Rodriguez didn't believe in putting pressure on his customers; it, pressure, was bad business; they always came back if they didn't feel threatened or, well, pressured; it gave them, the customers, the illusion that they were in control when in fact it was nature, well and the chemicals, that controlled the lot of them. He smiled as he made his way out of the grocery store and to his fancy British sports car which he'd parked at the far side of the lot: there'd be no dents from assholes opening their car doors into his if he could help it; 1947 MG TCs were pretty damn rare and fucking expensive.

A day after having talked to her dealer, she was again sitting at the little round table in the lunch room when her fellow employee dropped down across from her.

"How yuh doin', girl," said Beatrice Evans. "I saw him leave yesterday. He give you anything?" Ava shrugged.

"No, I told him I was done with the stuff. All of the stuff," said Ava.

"He'll be back. He's full of himself. Thinks he's irresistible," said Bea.

"Yeah for sure," said Ava. "But my man would not understand, if he ever found out that I'd been doing business, monkey business, with the guy."

"No, I wouldn't suppose he would," said Bea. "You and Julian still figurin' on Valentine's Day, right? I mean you haven't said anything about it in the last several days."

"Yes, of course, and you're still going to be my maid of honor, right," said Ava.

"Of course," she said. "Just checkin'."

"Hmm," said Ava. "We'll be having a little sit down with Blake in a couple of days to set things in motion. He's taking care of everything. Really, all there is left for us to do now is to show up and do the big thing. Blake knows how to do everything, or he knows people who do."

"Ava, you say big brother is a really rich guy and single. How picky do you think he is in terms of girlfriends?" said Bea. Ava smiled.

"He doesn't have a girlfriend. As for dates, or any such, he doesn't talk about them if he has any, dates that is," said Ava. "According to Julian money is the only thing he's actually in love with, and it, the money, seems to love him back."

"Hah," said Bea. "I can believe that; that he is in love with money, but there is no doubt in my mind that he hasn't been a virgin since he was in high school. Money yes, but pussy too: no male of the species can escape that particular reality, none. Well, unless he's gay. I mean do you think he swings that way?"

"No, no, I don't think so. He's just busy. He lives for the day he can declare himself a billionaire; it really is what he lives for. As for pussy, well, that comes in a distant second from what I can tell," said Ava. "And as for him being a virgin or not being a virgin, the fact is I don't know, but from what I actually do know of the man; it is possible that he is."

"Remotely possible maybe, but I don't believe it," said Bea. "I mean what do I know, but knowing men as I do, well…"

"Anyway, what do you care. You gonna make a move on him?" said Ava.

"Why? You think I couldn't?" she said.

"No, no, I just think that until he achieves his goal that any woman's chances would be really, really slight," said Ava.

"Hmm," said Bea.

"What's going on, honey girl?" I said. She'd come in from work and was looking kinda, something.

"Nothing, I mean not really," she said. Thinking fast, she knew what to say.

"Come on, I can see there's something going on," I said.

"I had kind of a long conversation with Bea, today," she said. "I'd really not like to get into it."

"Now, Ava, you know with a lead in like that that you are going to talk about it," I said. She sighed.

"Okay, I'll tell you this much and then we're going to let it rest, okay?" she said. I nodded.

"Bea wanted to know if Blake had a girlfriend. I told her he didn't as far as I was aware. Then she asked me if he was gay. I told her I was sure he wasn't. That was about it. The rest was just a lot of girl talk. Okay!" she said.

"Hmm, okay," I said. I supposed she was telling me the most salient part of whatever they talked about.

"Good," she said.

"Wait! Is she intending to make a move on my brother!"

"Julian!" she shouted.

"Okay, okay," I said, finally.

Beatrice Evans wasn't exactly rubbing her palms together in glee, but she was in a good mood. What would be the worst that could happen if she did make a move on the rich guy, he'd just politely shine her on that's what. Hence, Mister Blake Willis was in for a not quite full court press, oh yeah," she thought, well someday, hopefully.

She'd just put her work uniform on and was about to start her shift. The man that had bothered her coworker two days earlier was just coming up the aisle as she came out of the back room where she'd changed.

"Dante!" said Bea.

"Yes, got a minute?" he said. She nodded, but it was not an enthusiastic nod.

"I guess, but no more than that," she said.

"Your friend is being kinda, well, hard to get I think is the term," he said.

"Dante, the girl's engaged. She's gonna be impossible to get from now on," said Bea.

"Hmm, impossible is a word I don't buy into. It's always a matter of when not a matter of if. Well, that's been my experience," he said.

"Well, this is one time when you've got it wrong. Her future brother-in-law is rich. He can bring a whole lot of regretfullness down on the heads of anyone messes with his brother's woman. Believe me when I tell you that, Mister. Oh yeah."

"Rich is he. Well then how come his future sister-in-law is still working as a grunt in a grocery store? Tell me that," he said. The man was smiling the smile of a man very confident in his logic.

"Odd as it may sound, it is her decision to work at least until the wedding, her husband too. And I think he's going to keep on working even after the wedding. His pride won't allow him to let his brother do for him; but regardless, Ava will be quitting next month; that I do know," said Bea.

"She's crazy," he said. "But you know, I believe you. When she told me that she wanted the stuff to lose weight, I didn't believe her, but that did turn out to be a true thing. But hearing you now, it makes sense, kinda. Anyway, how about you. You wanna take her place?" Bea Evans laughed.

"No, no, I think I will steer clear of that kind of thing for, well, forever," she said.

"Never say never-forever, Bea. I remember when we had our thing before. I know you," he said.

"Hmm, well that was a long time ago; we were teenagers," she said "And it is never likely to be repeated. But good luck to you," she said. She didn't notice the man's smile; it was conspiratorial.

It was Saturday January 13th; 1972. Ava was off and shopping. She wheeled her basket up the department store's aisle toward the checkout register at the front of the store. She paid and wheeled her cart out toward the parking lot.

"Hello, Ava," said Dante. She started at his sudden and unexpected appearance.

"Dante! What are you doing here?" she said, clearly miffed.

"Talked to your friend Beatrice recently. I think you and I need to talk," he said.

"We've had our little talk," she said, "it's over between us. Get that, and leave me alone!"

"Now is that any way to talk to an old friend. An old friend who helped you to achieve the goal you so desperately wanted to achieve?" he said.

"Yes, and you got paid for it in spades, Mister. Using my body as you did for damn sure made up for anything you and your chemicals did for me," she said. The man snorted.

"Put your purchases in your car and join me over at that fast-food place across the lot," he said. "Either that or get ready explain to your future hubby the pics I've got of us having fun, your choice." The two of them turned and marched off in opposite directions.

The man was nervous, but probably not any more so than the woman he was pressuring. He waited for her to join him, or, not join him. He sipped the coffee in front of him. Setting his cup back down, he smiled; she was parking her car in front of the foodery.

She dropped into the seat across from him. "Coffee?" he said.

"Just get to your threat," she said, not answering his question.

"As I mentioned, I talked to your friend, Beatrice, the other day. Like you, she was a bit standoffish. That said she did mention that your future brother-in-law was rich, and influential," he said. He could see she was upset, if but mildly, that Beatrice would talk to him about her family, her future family.

"I'm not marrying him," she said.

"You mean Blake, Blake Willis," he said. "No, I know you're marrying the poor brother. But I have two requests, which if you grant them and they are simple requests, your husband-to-be need never know about your past, and need never know of how you managed to lose so much weight or your relationship with me." She remained stony silent.

"So, you want to hear my requests or not?" he said. She nodded, but it was a barely perceptible nod.

"One, you meet with me tomorrow at our old rendezvous where we can socialize and talk some more about the future. And two, you invite me to your wedding," he said. She was stone cold shocked that this man would dare to make such demands. And they were demands not requests.

She stood, stared at him, turned and walked out. "I'll be waiting tomorrow, Ava, noon time." He called out to her retreating figure. She'd be there, he was all but certain of that.

Chapter 4

He watched as she chewed the bit of roast beef that she had sliced off. She'd let it simmer in the slow cooker all day, and it was truly delicious.

"It's good," I said, smiling.

"Thank you," she said. "Yes, I don't think I overdid it this time."

"You did not" I said. "You know today is kind of a special day."

"Oh?" she said.

"Yes, it's the 13th. One more month and a day exactly and we'll be having name change day, yours," I said. She smirked.

"Yes, indeed. Oh, and I almost forgot. Blake called today while you were out. He told me all of the preparations are a go. It was so nice of him to take over that part of things," she said.

"Yes, I know. I think he's going to be coming over tomorrow too, to talk about things with us. Probably after lunch," I said.

"Lunch? After lunch?" she said. "I was planning to shop tomorrow afternoon."

"You shopped today. What, you didn't have a list?" I said.

"Yes, I had a list, but there is always stuff one forgets to put on the list. Never mind, I'll just go earlier and be back in time for the sit down," she said.

"Good," I said. "Honey girl, I have an idea."

"Oh?" she said.

"Yes, well, it's January right enough, but I think it's kinda warm. How about you?" I said.

"Huh? Well, it's not actually cold," she said. I was smiling. She seemed to be getting what I was getting at.

"Well, I mean I don't think we need to be wearing all those heavy winter night clothes, do you?" I said. "I mean tonight."

"Why Mister Willis, I do believe that you are trying to proposition this girl," she said, and giggled.

"Is that what I'm doing?" I said, I could feel myself blushing. No more was said right then. We finished eating, cleaned up the kitchen, and headed down the hall to our rooms, well my room. On the way she stopped and stepped into the bathroom and got a small towel. I waited by the bedroom door.

"I might need this, I mean in case I make a mess," she said. I knew that virgins bled a little when their hymen broke. Still, she was clearly more aware of things than I was.

She walked over to my bed and turned to look at me. "We've waited a long time for this Mister. You sure you want to break the rule?"

"I have never been surer of anything," I said. "But, since neither of us have ever done it before. I mean if I seem a little, something, kinda forgive my ignorance, okay?" I said.

"Of course, and me too," she said. I nodded.

"Of course," I said, echoing her.

Ava Gardner swallowed. Her man, even at his age of 21, didn't know diddly about sex, but she did. Would he notice? Would he realize that she was by no means a virgin? She knew what she'd had to do; the towel would be the prop for her little deception. If it worked, she would be out of the woods, and all would be good. If not, she really would be fucked, and not in a good way.

We undressed slowly, shyly, but we were finally naked and staring at each other. I got down on my knees in front of her. I leaned in to kiss her secret place. I began licking her, then sucking on her, then, burying my face in her. She pushed me gently away. She turned.

She went to the bed and lay spread wide and open to me.

"You are so incredible, so very damn incredible," I said, staring at her womanliness.

"Well, if I'm so incredible," she said, giggling, "then get busy and screw me."

I leaned in to do that which I had dreamed of forever. I fingered her for a moment or two; then, pressed my dick as deep inside of her as I could. She seemed loose, which was both a good thing and bad thing. Good because entry was easy, bad because I knew she might not be able to get off from my efforts; I didn't know much about making love but I knew that much. Still, nothing was going to stop me now. Buried in her, I began seesawing back and forth. I Lasted maybe three or four minutes before I erupted inside of her painting the walls of her vagina white.

Pulling out, I began aggressively kissing her and feeling her up, and a few minutes later I was hard again, and I took her for a second time. I think I whispered that I loved her at least fifty times while I screwed her. She said nothing, just closed her eyes and let me do her. Finally, I came again though this time it took longer. Her eyes opened as I shrank from her.

She got up, grabbed the towel, which she had lain under her when she'd mounted the bed, and covered her vagina with it. "Now, I know what you can do, I will need to train you some, but you do have potential." she said, as she headed for the bathroom. Not wanting to be argumentative at this moment of moments in my life, I kept my mouth shut.

Well, at least there wasn't any blood on the sheet, that was something; I thought as I waited for her.

She was in the bathroom for some time. I heard the water running. Maybe ten minutes later she came out smiling. She plopped down against me and cuddled. We were no longer virgins. I felt-liberated.

"You okay?" I said.

"Yes, a tiny bit sore, but good, very good," she said. I was betting that I felt better than she did.

She was at her wits end. She was supposed to meet the bad guy at noon, and that no matter what. She had to make it clear to him that their liaisons in particular but also the cocaine thing were truly things of the past and never to be repeated. Julian was at work, even though it was Sunday: some special deal his boss had asked him to help out with; Westside Rock and Sand was after all a "we never close" enterprise.

Dante Rodriguez had never actually been violent with her, but she well knew that he could be. He'd talked the talk more than once about how those who bucked him usually didn't do well; actually, he said that they never did; yes, he could be scary. Though not actually worried per se, she would be taking her husband's gun with her for protection; it was small, but it was a gun. Maybe she would show it to him to get him to understand that she meant business. Yes, maybe that, she thought.

She'd dressed so as not to entice the horny toad. The man's place of business was a house. A small house, an old house off 24th street in a not safe area of the city north of the airport. She checked her purse as she pulled up in front of the place. It was 11:00am She could see that the door was ajar. How wonderful she thought; she wouldn't have to knock, or at least not very hard.

Exiting the car, she wasted no time in going up the walkway; it was not a safe area for sure. She did rap a couple of times which caught the attention of the man.

"Anxious, are we?" said Dante. He held the door open wider for her to enter. She looked around to see if anyone else was resident at that moment; there was not.

"Coffee, something stronger?" said Dante.

"No, and I almost didn't come. But I decided that I needed to talk to you in private instead of some fast-food place with a lot of eyes and ears," she said.

"Okay," he said. "But regardless I need you to invite me to the wedding; that's not negotiable."

"Well, you are right about it not being negotiable. Because there is no way in hell you are coming to my wedding under any circumstances," she said, displaying more confidence than she actually felt.

"Really, and you don't care if your lover boy gets a ton of interesting pics and audio of you and me having fun?" he said.

"You don't want to do that. My brother-in-law to be is very powerful. You might be able to damage of my relationship with my fiancée, but all you'll really do is ruin your own prospects and likely end up behind bars," she said.

Dante Rodriguez was not used to being talked to like she was talking to him, not used to it at all. He was clearly beginning to seethe. He strode towards the smirking woman and grabbed her by the shoulders shaking her.

"You will do as I say, understand!" he said. He let go of her shoulders and she stumbled back falling and bumping her head against the table leg behind her. She was momentarily stunned. The bully was the one smirking now. She gathered herself and stood as the man turned and walked a few paces back to where his coffee cup was waiting; it was still steaming.

Initially he heard the gun go off before feeling the bullet penetrate his neck. He turned, a shocked look painting his features. Three more shots rang out, but the twenty-five caliber auto made but little noise considering. One of the three follow up shots penetrated the man's left eye; he was dead before he hit the ground.

Ava Gardner stood transfixed and stared at what she had done. Dante Rodriguez lay twisted unnaturally on the floor near the couch. He was clearly dead; she could see that; there was no doubt about that. The gun dropped from her hand. Her life was over. She didn't move, not for a long time; well, it seemed like a long time.

Her purse, that she had retrieved the gun from, and had dropped when she had fallen, was but maybe two feet behind her and to her left. She looked for it, saw it, and picked it up; she didn't know why. The police would take it from her no matter what. She would at the least be spending years in prison, maybe her whole life.

She looked around and saw the phone across the room. She saw the clock on the wall above it; it read 11:21: it was January 14th, 1972, at 11:21am It was for all intents and purposes the end of her life. That reality would forever be etched into her conscious mind in the months and years to come no matter what. She had to call her man. She had to tell him everything. All of the lies, the half-truths, the promises, the now broken promises.

I looked at my watch. She should be done shopping, so where was she. She'd assured me she'd be no more than an hour and home in plenty of time for the talk with Blake to make final plans for the wedding.

Blake, who was picking up the bill for everything would be coming within the hour, no later than 1:00pm he'd said. I looked across the room toward the kitchen. The phone on the kitchen wall was ringing. I went to answer it.

"Hello?" I said. Over the next minutes I listened to my very distraught fiancée beg me to come to her. She had something to tell me, actually, some things plural as she said. I hung up.

I was on the road as soon as I'd hung up. Twenty-fourth street; this could not be good. Twenty minutes later I pulled up in front of a rundown residence. An old house I noted, a very old house, maybe built in the thirties. I strode up to the door; it was open. I walked in. I immediately saw the man on the floor. My woman was seated on a stool to the far right next to the phone that she must have used to call me. She was crying, sobbing her eyes out.

I knew intuitively what had gone down. Ava, my woman, had shot the man and killed him. I turned and went back to the door closing it. For the moment, maybe for many moments, I did not want to be interrupted or have anyone passing by wonder why the door was wide open as it had been; no, I needed time.

"I shot him," sobbed Ava. "He pushed me down and I banged my head against that," she pointed toward a table a few feet from the body. "He threatened me and I shot him! He's dead, I know he's dead."

I went to her and pulled her toward me and hugged her though she was still seated. I reached for the remaining chair to my right and pulled it up to where she sat. I held her hand.

"Okay," I said. "Tell me everything." I knew that there was going to be a seriously disturbing back story to what had gone down, and I needed to hear it all to have the best chance to save the situation if it even was savable.

Chapter 5

It took a full hour for her to lay it all out for me. It had started some two years before, more actually, but in a big way just two years gone. She'd wanted to lose weight; that's all. She'd tried diets. She'd tried exercise. She'd even tried yoga. Nothing worked. But then she'd heard about the effects of some kinds of drugs. Somebody at the grocery store had heard her talking to Bea.

That somebody, a man, had propositioned her. Told her she could lose all the weight she wanted and not need to worry about diets or any of that stuff. She'd blown the guy off; he'd just wanted into her pants, and at the time she was still a virgin.

Later, she'd talked to Bea. Bea had told her that, yeah, the drugs would get her weight down, but they would also ruin her financially and likely get her addicted. Bea told her to forget it.

The guy had returned and told her she could get the stuff for free and gave her a number to call if she decided she wanted to get some, but, that any more after that would not be free stuff. He was clearly trying to impress her. He hadn't said what the cost would be, but she had assumed it would be kinda expensive. She made the call and did get the free stuff as advertised. She'd tried the stuff and lost five pounds in a month. She'd been impressed; and, she didn't feel bad or addicted or anything.

Out of the stuff, she'd called the guy again from a phone in the store. He'd showed up and told her the cost. It was too much; her Julian would notice the hit to the bank account and that in short order: they did have a shared account. Julian was no dummy, no indeed. She was about to walk away when the guy, whose name turned out to be Dante, Dante Rodriguez, made her a proposition. Her body would be his to have fun with each time she wanted a refill, no strings beyond that, he'd said. She'd agreed, reluctantly, and accepted his proposition.

And then she'd made her weight goal, sixty more pounds, and she'd been able to keep it off, the weight. She'd told him it was over, that on Halloween as it happened. She was done with the stuff. Then Julian had proposed, then Dante had shown up and learned about Blake's money from Bea more or less by accident.

Now she'd come to this house on this day to shut the man down once and for all. She'd brought the gun with her just in case, and maybe to try to intimidate him. And well, now they were where they were. Was I stunned? Oh yeah, I was stunned. All of this just to lose weight! But I didn't immediately say anything or criticize her. For a long moment after her confession, I just stared. She broke the spell.

"I am so sorry, Julian. I was crazy, and now I'm going to pay for my mistakes. I need you to go on. Forget me. I don't deserve you. Ever since high school you've been there for me, and now I've screwed up, irredeemably screwed up. I deserve to be punished and I will be; I will be going to prison. Just-please my good man, don't hate me, please," she said, choking back her tears. I finally found my voice.

"One question, Ava," I said. "Do you love me?"

"Of course," she said. "You know that."

"Okay then, this is how this is going to play out. Over the next while I made the argument that she had to let me take the fall for her. She all but assaulted me trying to get me to not do what I needed to do. She could not handle prison, not on any level. It would be hard for me, but impossible for her. I finally got her to settle down and do what I told her to do.

"Okay, then, the only thing I need from you is to promise me that you will be there for me when I get out. I will need my woman then for sure, and my woman is you and only you forever. Can you do that for me? Will you do that for me? Will you be that woman for me?" I said.

"Yes, of course, but…"

"No buts. I can do this knowing you will be there for me. It's going to be a long time, but if you can get up to see me wherever they send me; you know, once in a while, I'll be able to make it. It's all I'll need; I will need that, to be reassured from time to time, but it will be enough if I can depend on it, on you.

"Blake will take care of things while I'm gone, take care of you. Tell him I need to see him as soon as possible. Oh, and he is not to know what really happened here. He is just to be told what we've talked about: I went nuts when I found out that the man had threatened you and me and I decided to put an end to it. Ava, no one but you and I must ever know. Understood?" I said.

"Julian, I… " she started, and began to sob all over again.

"Okay, okay, the cops will be here soon. You need to leave and do what I told you with the clothes and the rest. I will clean up here and call the cops. Just go, go now, and call Blake as soon as you've taken care of the other stuff." I said. She launched herself at me and kissed me and hugged me hard. I knew it would be a long time before I would experience the like, a very long time.

I found an unopened bottle of wine in the house and drank the whole damn 750 milliliters. I cleaned up the place and fired the last two bullets into the bed beside the body. I waited near two hours overall before calling the men in blue: I had to give Ava enough time to do what she had to do. I'm glad she was gone. I did not want her to see what was certain to go down when the police arrived. I just hoped she'd follow my instructions. If she did, we'd likely be okay.

"Shit!" said the man in sergeant's stripes. "You the shooter?" I knew better than to answer any questions, but in this case, I answered the man. I wanted all of the evidence to point to me so that Ava would not be a suspect. She might be anyway, since it was her, according to the story we'd be selling, that I'd killed the man for. But at the least I had to minimize her exposure.

"Yes, sir," I said. "He threatened my family." The sergeant didn't mistreat me, as I was afraid whomsoever among the police might. But I was cuffed and transported downtown to the lockup. I was booked and a man in a suit came in to question me. At this point I opted to wait to hear from my brother or his representative, so I didn't answer any questions. I know he'd know what to do. Since I wasn't yet ready to answer their questions, I was sent back to lockup. Jesus it was cold in there. I hated the cold. I could do the heat, even the desert heat, but not the cold.

It was 10:00am the next day that I was led into a court room and appraised of the charges against me: aggravated second-degree murder. I was represented by an attorney, Jacob Paskin, a man I had no ken of. He told me he'd been sent by my brother whom I had not yet seen; I thought that odd, but I was pretty sure I would see him by day's end if they would let him in to see me. I had no clue as to the rules in these kinds of places.

Still, all said and done; I was most concerned about Ava. Was she holding it together? She had to, she just had to! Everything depended on her being strong. I know she was feeling bad, guilty, worried, all of it; but in the end she had to hold it together. Oddly, and it was odd, I did not want to see her yet. I was mortally afraid that were she to see me in my striped jump suit that she would fall apart. So later yes, but not yet.

And then it was 2:00pm and I was told that I had a visitor. I figured I knew who it was; I was right.

I was led in and chained to the steel table across from him. We stared at each other for a long minute.

Blake was shaking his head, slowly. "You okay?" he said. I shrugged.

"I guess," I said.

"Jesus, Julian, four times and one of those through the eye." I shrugged again.

"He wouldn't go down and he was still coming at me. He was a big guy," I said. He nodded.

"Yeah, I heard. I talked to Jacob before coming over here; I mean your lawyer. And no matter what, do what he says. In spite of the charges he thinks he can get you housed here in town instead of upstate in St. John's, at Winslow State Prison. I frowned.

"What!" I said. I was worried. If I was here in Phoenix. Ava would be visiting me more often almost for sure, in fact no doubt about it. As much as I wanted to see her, too often, and she would break.

"Huh?" he said.

"Tell him not to do that. I don't want Ava visiting too often. If she does, she might not be able to handle it. I do want to see her now and again, but not every week or what all," I said. "I just need her to be there for me when I get out. She's promised that she would be. That's the hope, my hope." He nodded.

"Okay, I'll tell him," he said.

"Good, thank you," I said.

"Jules, Jacob says you could get life. He's going to do his best to mitigate that as much as he can, so, like I said, do what the man says; and talk to nobody without him being there to monitor things. That's a must," he said.

"Okay, got it," I said. "Blake, about Ava…"

"I'll take care of things. She'll be fine, promise," he said.

"Thank you," I said. "That's the most important thing. But one other thing, please. Tell her to keep her job. Don't you just pay all her bills and stuff. I mean back her up, but she needs to work. She needs to worry about things apart from me. She has to keep her mind occupied as they say. She needs to stay tight with her friends and workmates. I mean you know. Okay?" He was nodding.

"Okay, I guess you have a point. If things change, I will let you know and we will manage things together as needed. Okay?" he said.

"Yes, that'll be good," I said.

And then he was gone. He did say I would be seeing my lawyer on the morrow. I had my fingers crossed that he might be able to do me some good. I mean the D.A. had me dead to rights; I knew that, but hope springs eternal as they say.

"Julian, I have to tell you, that while it could be worse; it's still going to be bad. The D.A. wants life. I can beat that but still… " he said.

"Okay?" I said.

"Well, if we plead out it's likely that you'll get twenty to life, to be served at a medium security unit; and with the possibility of parole after the minimum is served. If we go to trial, it would likely be twenty flat; but it could be life in a maximum-security unit-not good believe me-and with almost no chance for parole although that might be mitigated some down the line. Like I say the state isn't likely to get life; they'll try, but the guy you shot was such a bad guy that they'd have a really hard nut trying to get the max. You've got a clean record, so I'm all but certain that they will fail in that regard," said Jacob Paskin.

"So, you're saying that if I plead it's twenty to life, but if I don't it would be twenty or life," I said.

"It'd be your decision, but yes, pretty much," he said. I nodded.

"Okay, I guess we plead out," I said, "and hope for the best."

"As you say," he said.

Chapter 6

Then I got the visit that I most wanted to get. I had to talk to her. She showed up the day after Mister Paskin. I wondered how much she already knew. Not much I figured.

Like it was with Blake when he visited, the first minutes were just us staring at each other, but unlike with Blake her tears were flowing. Well, I could relate, mine would be too, sooner or later. I broke the silence this time.

"You okay?" I said.

"Hell no," she said. "How could I be okay, knowing what you are doing for me, worthless me!"

"You are my life, Ava. I need you in my corner and doing what I say. I know we are going to be apart physically, but you will be with me in my heart one hundred percent of the time," I said.

"And you in mine Mister, never doubt that, but I mean but never," she said. I smiled. Her words made me feel better than I had felt in a long time even before what we were calling the "bad day."

"I will visit you whenever I can," she said. "I promise."

"Honey, yes do visit me on occasion, but not every chance you get. There will be practicalities, and I don't want you suffering and I know you are and will be. This is my chance to prove my love for you. Once I'm out no matter how long it takes; you can have your shot," I said, and I smirked. "At least I got my virginity out of the way." And now I was smirking even more than I had been.

"Honey, maybe they will let us have time together. I mean I've heard that that is possible. I mean you know," she said. Suddenly I was surprised and thoughtful.

"I don't know, but maybe," I said. "I'll ask my lawyer about it when I see him next time." She smiled, and it was a hopeful smile.

"Yes, do so, Mister!" she said.

Because I had decided to plead out, and because of the strenuous efforts of Mister Jacob Paskin esquire; I caught me a couple of what I considered breaks, small ones, but breaks regardless. I got twenty to twenty-five with the possibility of parole after the minimum time served. The bad news was it would be in max. I was afraid of going to max, but at least I had a definite maximum release date 1997. I would be making a point of behaving myself and hoping for the best, maybe 1992.

Still, I worried, I worried about how my woman was going to be able to handle things. She was a looker. She was going to be hit on. Would she give in? I decided that I would not begrudge her that, just so long as she would be there for me in the long run. I had to believe that she would be.

The day after having pled out in court and having been sentenced as I had been. I got another visit from her. I'd gotten a negative response about the possibility of us having conjugal visits: it was never possible in a max unit, and only a few states allowed it anyway, and one of them was not Arizona. Kind of a downer, but it probably would have been a bad deal anyway-emotionally.

She looked pale and drawn, but she was holding it together, so I deduced. "Oh my God, Julian, and you are doing this for me!" she said, and she sobbed.

"I would do anything for you. You know that. Knowing that you will be there for me when I get out is all I need.

"Ava, my beautiful lady, it is going to be tough on you too. I know that. But don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'll get out in the minimum, and maybe my rich brother and his fancy lawyers can figure a way to make my stay up state even shorter or at least easier. I have no doubt that he's going to be trying," I said. "But no matter what, you will be in my heart and in my prayers; you will be part of me the whole time."

"You will be in my heart and soul the whole time too, my darling man. How could you not be?" she said.

"Just be there for me when I get out, my darling, that is all that is going to matter to me," I said.

"That is a promise. A promise before God," she said.

We talked a bit longer and then it was time for us to part. I would be seeing her in due course over the years. But mostly, I figured it would be less often than she might want, but it was the way it had to be. I did not want her to go crazy over any of it. Yes, it was my sacrifice, but her dwelling on it would not be good. I would need to be talking to Blake periodically reminding him to protect her from herself; that was going to be a must.

The ride up to Winslow State, was kinda long; we didn't even stop to pee. Well, we were prisoners not tourists.

The gates swung open as we arrived at the institute of pain and suffering. We were unloaded, but chained together, as we were, it was a slow process.

A bevy of guards flanked the lineup of prisoners, and we got the no doubt well-rehearsed welcoming speech, and then we were marched into the receiving complex. Clothes, temporary cell block assignments, cavity searches, med checkups and the like. We did get dinner; it wasn't too disgusting; I had feared that it would be.

I would eventually be housed in the Kaibab unit, max security. Minimum yard time, but we would get some of that. I'd use it to exercise, not because I wanted to get strong or anything, but more to keep my mind from focusing on the semi-eternity that I'd been sentenced to.

I had my own cell, located in the east wing, for the first week. I guess that was protocol for newbies. Mister Paskin had warned me to keep my mouth shut to the extent possible, and I determined to do just that. While in the yard I noted that there were ethnic and racial groups that hung together likely for protection though in point of fact I'd seen no indication of violence or trouble, well, at least so far.

And then week one was over and real prison life began.

"Ava? You called. I'm here. What's wrong girl?" said Blake.

"Blake, I feel so bad for my man," she said. He nodded.

"Yes, I know, and he knows. He told me to take care of you, but he also told me a few other things. One was that he didn't want you to be constantly worrying about him. Ava, neither of us want that. Yes, he's knows you care about him, that you are likely worrying about him; but Ava, he's even more worried about you," said Blake.

"Yeah, well like that's even possible," she said.

"Look, Ava, that's why he told me to keep you working at the store. He doesn't want you spending all of your time, every waking hour of your life, worrying. He wants you to be busy. Yes, I'm here to take care of any problems you may have and to support you over the long haul, but you have to help me out here. You have to live your life, and give him reason to worry less, not more. Really," he said.

"Blake I just don't know what to do!" she said, shouting at the wall!

"Just do what he told you. Do what I tell you. He, really the both of us, care about you and worry about you. Just slow down and let me take the lead here. I'll be filling in for him because he can't be here like he wants," he said. "You'll be fine, and when he gets out and one day he will; the two of you can be together and I will guarantee your lives. You will have nothing to worry about, neither of you." She was shaking her head.

"Blake there's something else, something big," she said.

"Something else? Something big? What?" he said, brow knitting. She started pacing back and forth in the small kitchen area that she had for so long shared with her man. She stopped and stared at her man's brother.

"Blake, the night before all of the bad stuff went down, some five months ago now, well, something happened," she said.

"Okay?" he said.

"Well, we did the deed," she said. The man smiled.

"Yes, he told me," he said.

"Blake… I'm pregnant," she said, and she began to sob. The man across from her was suddenly bereft of words, stunned.

"Wha… " he started.

"Julian and I are going to be parents. Blake, I don't know what to do. I mean I really do not know what to do!" she said, and she sobbed some more.

Blake Willis, rubbed his head tousling his hair wildly in the process. He'd been sitting, but now he suddenly stood up, ramrod straight, turned toward the wall, and seemed to be lost in thought.

"Oh, my," he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard. "And you just found out?" He'd turned back to face her.

"Yes," she said. "Blake, I'm afraid to tell him. I do not want to add to his worries." He was nodding.

"Yes, yes, for now, for the short term at least, we keep this between us," he said. "We have to think. I mean the both of us have to think."

"Yes," she said.

"So, I'm going to be an uncle. Wow!" he said.

"Blake, I checked out when it would be possible to see him, to go up and see him. They told me not till he'd been inside the big prison for six months, maybe mid-September, and that with good behavior. He could be a father by then.

"Blake if I tell him, it has to be in person. I just cannot tell him something this big in a letter or even a phone call," she said.

"No, no, you're right. He really does need to find out from you, and in person. But, like I say, we need to talk first and decide if it's going to be a good idea to tell him now, or, really at all. I mean I guess we do have to, but the when might be something else entirely," he said.

"By then I will be showing and I mean showing big time, at least that," she said.

"Yes, yes, I see what you mean. I think what we have to do is for me to go up there first, and for you to go up there after the baby is born. Well, I mean unless we decide to let him know soonest," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, you going up there first is the best thing. I mean if we don't let him know right away."

"Okay," he said. "We'll talk some more after we've had a chance to think about things a little more. We've got time. We have to do this right." She nodded.

Ava was working, but she was not necessarily at her best regardless.

"Late again, Ava?" said Beatrice Evans.

"Yes, been having a hard time. I mean you know. I do my best to sleep, but it's hard, really hard," she said. Her best friend nodded.

"I can understand that. But the boss has been shaking his head. You really need to buckle down. You said that Julian wanted you to keep working. I mean… " she said.

"Yes, and I do want to. I'm going to do better. I have to do better. Even Blake says the same thing. He's been keeping tabs on me," she said.

"Ava, I can't help but notice, but are you…?" said Bea. Her friend looked mildly surprised.

"Yes," said Ava. "Four more months. I'm surprised no one has noticed or said anything if they have."

"Hmm, I think a couple of the other ladies have noticed, but like you say, they haven't said anything that I've so far heard. It's Julian's, right?" said Bea. She got a how-dare-you look from her friend.

"Of course. I haven't cheated on my man!" she said, almost too defensively. Ava Randall didn't consider the now deceased Dante Rodriguez important enough to consider the sex she'd had with him as being a matter of cheating, oh no, that was a matter of extortion though she knew in her heart that on any level that that was a reach.

Bea Evans believed her friend, but there was something going on that did not add up. Things Ava had said, things she hadn't said, there was, or were, things that were keeping her friend from getting on with her life.

Julian Willis was a murderer, a convicted murderer; the evidence was clear. Yes, she loved him and him her. Yes, he'd killed the man for threatening his beloved; but there were other ways to deal with a drug dealer and his ilk. Julian Willis was no fool; he was in fact very bright, intellectually. Him killing the bad guy made no sense. But then, when it came to love a lot of things often made little or no sense.

"Have you been up to see the man yet?" said Bea. Ava's eyes shot open.

"No, no, not yet, I don't want to go up there showing. I mean I'm not sure about him learning about the baby, not yet. Blake is going up there in August; he'll finally eligible to have visitors then," said Ava. "I'll be going up at Christmas. The baby's due in September. I will likely be telling him about her then, Christmas."

"Her?" said Bea.

"Yes, just found out a while ago. I'll be naming the baby after his mom, Candace," said Ava. Bea nodded.

"Ava, you need to think about maybe being with another man. Yes, yes, I know you love the guy. But he is a killer. And, he is going to be in there for twenty years, maybe more. Really, girl, you deserve better," said Bea. "You and your daughter are going to be a lot older by then; I mean when he gets out."

"No, it's my fault he's in there. I can't break my promise to him," she said. Bea looked at her friend, no, heard her friend's tone, something. She hadn't said anything out of the ordinary, but Bea Evans sensed that something wasn't right.

"Well, we better get back up front," said Bea. "The boss will be wondering what we're doing back here. This is the lunch room, and lunch is over."

"Yes, we better," said Ava.

Chapter 7

August 21st 1972: the hottest day so far of the summer, and I had my first visitor. No, not my woman, but my brother. My level of disappointment, while not exactly destined to be legendary, was pretty high-end. Oh yes, very high-end.

"Blake, not that you're not good looking or what all, but you're not as good looking as the one I was hoping to see first!" I said. I was smiling, but I was also demonstrably disappointed.

"I wanted to be here first to make sure you were all right," said Blake, "and to see if there is anything that I might be able to do for you that, well, Ava could not. And for sure she will be coming. She told me she was targeting Christmas time. We're figuring kinda alternating me and her. Would that be okay by you?"

"Uh, sure, I guess, that would be fine," I said. "But tell me, how is she doing?" Blake sagged back a bit on the steel seat he was seated on across the table from me.

"She's fine, sort of. She's working as you know. Cries a lot; I know that for a fact. I do check up on her regularly, per your instructions, but I would be checking anyway. I mean you know," he said. "She misses you, big surprise."

I looked down. "I guess. I kinda figured," I said. "I hope that as time goes on, she'll be able to calm down some and get on with things. I'm just glad you're there to have her back. You say she is working regular?"

"Yes, and she is full time. And you were right to ask her to do so. It does help some for her to be around her workmates and friends. She's still tight with Beatrice. They talk a lot. At any rate it works for her, I mean her working.

"Look would it do any good if I sent you money from time to time. I know they have like a little commissary or canteen, right?" he said.

"Well, yes, I could use a little money from time to time. There is a small canteen, as you say, where we can get stuff, I mean like candy, toothpaste, stuff. Most of the inmates smoke; I don't, but most do. Cigarettes are like money in here, and that can come in handy from time to time when a body needs a favor or even protection," I said.

"Protection! Are you in danger?" he said.

"Not so far. I'm still a newbie and up to now I've managed to be left alone, but… " I said. "And, please, do not say anything about that to Ava. I mean it okay?"

"Okay, okay, I'm not a complete idiot. Of course, I wouldn't be saying anything about any of that to her," he said. I nodded.

"Okay, good," I said.

"I'll see you get the money right away. I'll even see if I can set up an unlimited account with the warden or whomsoever, so you will always be able to get what you need," he said.

"It'll be appreciated, believe me, and more than useful," I said. "I will sign off on it muy pronto. Believe it or not, I can't accept any money, outside money, without okaying it. And like I say, I will for sure okay it muy prontisimo." I was smiling. "Oh, and it has to be by postal money order otherwise it gets put on hold for a period of time."

"Good, I need you to be safe," I said. "And I will use the postal money order thing."

We talked about other stuff including even his business. He was doing real good. I was beginning to think that I might have to rethink my determination to not join him in his business. Well, I would be having a lot of time to be thinking about stuff like that.

The meet up with my brother had been good. In the end I had been glad that he had come before Ava did, much as I missed her. But then I had a problem. Things had been bad for the six months I'd been inside, but tolerable, but now…

It was September, a couple of weeks after my brother's visit. And I was transferred to the level four Kaibab unit which did not allow for a lot of benefits. I discovered that because of the gravity of my crime I would remain in a secure section of the east wing. Here it would be one or two person cells for the duration, and, much stricter visitation and phone privileges than in the west wing where it was more like dormitory living. And, most moving around for me would be done in chains. I was in for a very bad time.

Blake was as good as his word. He had arranged for money to be deposited for me to use in the commissary and for the telephone, but he discovered, as did I, that the amount he could deposit was going to be limited and would never be enough to protect me if the need were to arise for me to need protection. I swallowed and hoped.

For whatever reason I was to be housed in a two-man cell. My cellmate? John Brown, 6'3", and way over two hundred pounds. He was black, he was mean, and he was mine for who knew how long. I was terrified, and it would turn out I would have reason to be. He arrived in our block two days after I did.

I'd been camping on the lower bunk, but when I saw him, I threw my pillow up on the top bunk without even so much as asking him what he wanted. He just snorted. I didn't say anything that first day and neither did Mister Brown. That changed on day two.

"Willis, right?" he said. I nodded.

"The name's Brown. But you need to be calling me master. I love it when dinky little white boys call me master. You won't have a problem with that will you?" he said. I didn't answer, not then.

"Not talking. Well, you will. Oh yes, you definitely will," he said. I still didn't reply. It was Sunday when all of this last went down. It would be a couple more days before I knew exactly what he was talking about. Then it was Tuesday. Tuesdays and Thursdays were shower days.

"Ready to refer to me as master?" he said, as we soaped up. I still didn't say anything hoping it would be enough. I hoped in vain.

Done showering, everybody but him and me were gone from the shower room. "Get down on your knees slave boy," he said. I tried to get past him, but he yanked me back so hard I at first thought that my shoulder had been pulled out of its socket.

"Little slave boy, you don't really have a choice. You're my property which is both good and bad for you," he said. I decided to say my first words to him.

"Just leave me alone. I won't bother you and you won't bother me," I said. I started to try and get past him once again. This time he slammed me down on the shower floor.

"Like I said, there's a good side and a bad side to being my slave, well from your point of view. On the good side no one else will bother you. On the bad side, again from your point of view I'm sure, you will suck my dick and bend over for me whenever it suits me. Am I understood?" he said. I tried to rise, but he literally slapped me down to the floor once again.

"Just… " I started

"When I want you to talk, I will let you know. Otherwise shut up."

"Now get on your knees and do your duty," he said. He waved his dick inches from my face. I was kneeling, and there was clearly no escape. The damn guards were nowhere to be seen. They were clearly not going to be of any help.

He pushed his cock up against my still tightly closed mouth and kept it there forcing me to do what he wanted. I did what he wanted.

Over the next weeks he raped me several times and made me suck him off almost every day. I had no hope. The bad news was I couldn't even buy him off. Blake did send the money but the amount allowed by the state prison system was way too small to be of much use to me. For sure it was not nearly enough to save me, not nearly. And, it would be Ava coming to see me next not Blake; she would have to carry a message for me asking Blake to see if he could do something about the pig that I was sharing my cell with.

I didn't write Blake asking him for help getting Brown out of my life.; I didn't trust the censors.

Th censors didn't like inmates interfering in their decisions. I'd been warned about that by several other inmates.

I did still resist the man sometimes, though always in vain. But he never did get me to call him master; I told him I'd rather be dead. He just laughed.

"Jacob, I need to ask you some straight forward questions about what might be happening to my brother in that prison he's been sent to," said Blake.

Jacob nodded. "Blake, the man's in maximum security. That's both good and bad, mostly bad. There is almost no freedom to move about. He's either in a cell by himself or maybe in with a cellmate."

"A cellmate? Wouldn't that be better than in one by himself?" said Blake.

"Maybe yes and maybe no. If he and his cellmate were to get along okay, then yes, it would be better. If the guy he would be in with is not a good guy it could be very bad: sexual abuse, beatings, other stuff," he said.

"Other stuff?" said Blake.

"Blake, I'm not going to try and sugarcoat this. Slavery is illegal in the United States but it is common in prisons, especially in max prisons where the worst of the worst are cloistered. Julian's a long termer in for murder-two. He will be housed with other long termers and lifers. Lifers with no hope, no women, no money or any way to spend it even if they had money. It's very bad inside a place like that," he said. "I could make enquiries; see how he might be doing. But prison officials are way different than other law enforcement personnel. That said, I do have a few resources and might be able to find out some things."

"Jacob, I need you to do so. I need to know he's safe. Ava, needs to know too. I know he did something very bad, but he is my brother and I cannot even begin to countenance letting him be hurt or destroyed psychologically inside that awful place," he said. "I have to do something, anything to prevent that kind of thing, and I mean immediately, yesterday, if you get my drift."

"Okay," said Jacob. "I'll get right on it. But, Blake, I need to give you a heads up on this one. It could cost some bucks."

"But if they can't have any money in there… " said Blake, clearly confused.

"No, but if my sources or influence peddlers have family that is desperate for help on the outside… " he said, and waited for a response from the other man.

"No limits on this one," said Blake, who suddenly seemed to have an idea.

"Blake?" said Jacob.

"Maybe one of those gang leaders? You know paying him or his family to protect our guy?" said Blake.

"Maybe. I'll see," he said. "But it's more likely that I get him a cellmate that is the good kind, so to speak. But I'll need to find out first if he even has one at this point, a cellmate I mean."

"Good, good, and please get back to me as soon as you can. I get questions from Ava pretty regular anymore, and I want to be able to give her some good news, or if not good news at least less bad news," said Blake.

Chapter 8

"You okay this morning?" said Blake. "You going to work?" she shrugged.

"Okay, I guess. And yes, I am going to work; it'll be my last week, three days actually. I am a little on the uncoordinated side though," she said, "I mean I am eight months along."

"Doctor give you a tentative date yet?" he said.

"Second week of next month," said Ava. "Blake, I am so scared. I mean having his baby, and him not going to know it, you know as we discussed. Blake, are we doing the right thing?"

"Fact is I don't know," he said. "Whatever we, you, decide, will hurt him in the long run. I mean, tell him, and he worries for the next twenty years. Don't tell him and he hates us for not telling him after he gets out and discovers he has an adult daughter that he didn't have a clue even existed."

"But having said all of that, not adding to his stress and whatnot now, looks like the best way to go. But, like I say, there is just no way to know for sure," he said. "Ava, the man is a convicted felon, a killer. He's my brother, and I love him anyway, and I, we, will do what we can for him when he gets out; but, apart from that, he has made his own bed, and he will have to lie in it. He's just lucky that he has a woman as wonderful as you who is willing to support him and wait for him no matter what."

The man across from her didn't see, or seeing, understand the look that the woman, Ava Gardner, had on her countenance.

"He's a good man, a great man, Blake. I blame myself for all of it. And, I do support him and I am going to wait for him," she said. The man nodded, but it was a dubious nod.

He stood beside her bed as she screamed bloody murder. It was not an easy birth. She was squeezing his hand like no one had ever squeezed it before, not even a man.

Then, the baby was out. The doctor cut the cord. The baby, baby Candace, was wailing. She sure was large, well largish," he thought. A nurse then took her and did the cleaning up process. Another nurse was tending to mommy. It was October 10th 1972.

The father, the real father would not be told of his fatherhood; well, not in the near future if ever. That was a question for another time, a time, a better time, down the road. The man had a minimum of nineteen years left to serve for his crime, thought Blake Willis.

Uncle Blake had made a promise to his brother to keep his woman working to minimize the time she would certainly have spent thinking about things she needn't be thinking about. But he was about to break that promise. She wouldn't be working anymore. She needed to be with baby Candace. They'd be talking about that soon.

He was going to have her move into his condo at least until she could handle things on her own. He wanted her and the baby to be where he could watch over the two of them and guarantee their safety and well-being. It would be but two days after he'd made the decision that they did move in with him; actually, as soon as they left the hospital. Then it was a month after Candace's birth. And then it was the week before Thanksgiving.

He arrived home, at the condo, just in time to see her packing to leave. "Ava, what are you doing?" said Blake.

"I need to thank you, Blake, for everything. For being there for us, the two of us, through this, all of it," said Ava. "We won't be imposing anymore after today."

"Whaddya mean imposing! We've talked about this," he said.

"Yes, but I've thought it over. Our house, Julian's and my house, is where the two of us belong. Staying here, with you, doesn't feel right," she said. "The next-door neighbor is willing to sit for Candace when I'm at work. She'll do it cheap."

"Look, Ava, I promised Julian to look after you. Yes, he did want you to work so as not to spend all of your time thinking bad thoughts and worrying. At the time I agreed with him, but I also got him to agree to a change in plans if anything came along that would change the situation. Having a baby be with its mother is definitely a change in situation, and one that demands a change in plans. You can't work anymore, not optimally.

"As for the house, we'll keep it. It's paid off. I'll have housekeepers and gardeners take care of the place and you can check it out occasionally and make sure it's ready for the man when he does come home. I guarantee he'll be happy with the outcome," he said.

"Blake, I don't say that your proposal isn't tempting, but…"

"But what. I love my adorable little niece. You too if it comes to that. Just stop packing that suitcase and let's go into the kitchen and put together something to eat. It's after five already. We can talk some more on full stomachs. Okay?" he said. She hesitated, but finally nodded in the affirmative.

Blake Willis may have only been an uncle in a genetic sense, but in truth, he seemed more like a dad, a father; that truth caused a pang of guilt to ring bells in the back of Ava Gardner's conscious mind.

Dinner cooked and done; the two adults did talk. Mom was holding her baby.

"So, it's settled then," he said. "You're staying permanently. You'll still have the bedroom down the east hall. It's big enough for the two of you, and private enough so that you won't have to worry about any interruptions. And, that new phone is set up special so that you can get calls through to or receive calls from the prison." She nodded.

"Okay, and it's just something else that Julian and I have to thank you for," she said. "And, I know that that phone thing must've cost you a fortune. I wonder if the White House has anything like it; I mean as good."

"Harrumph, actually it's modeled on the one the White House does have," he said, smiling. "Well, that's what the man who put it in for me told me."

And then it was Yuletide.

It was Christmas Eve 1972, it was also Sunday the regular visiting day in max security level four, in the Kaibab. And, I had a visitor. I wanted to see her in the worst way, and she was here. That said, I was not in the best of shape: Mister Brown had beat the shit out of me the week before and I'd spent three days in the infirmary. My face was still a mess, and I was limping noticeably.

The good news: Mister Brown had spent the next ten days in solitary; how wonderful was that. He was also transferred to a different cell block; that at least was actual good news. Also, I had gotten me incarcerated in a single person cell. It was lonely not having anyone to talk to. But Mister Brown was not exactly a paragon of loquacity in any event, and losing him as a cellmate was a definite plus, so I guess I was ahead of the game there too.

Because of my physical condition, I had almost decided to not see her. But had I not, she would have known that something was up anyway, so I decided to bite the bullet and try to lie my way out of the situation. Besides, I was desperate to see the love of my life.

We were in a room designed for maybe a couple of hundred people. It being Christmas Eve meant that the room figured to be crowded; and it was. Ava and I had to share a table. with another couple, usually it was just two people at a table on uncrowded days.

I had already staked out a table; well, me and another inmate had. The other inmate, Hamm Washington, a man I barely knew, already had his woman with him by the time Ava arrived at 1:00pm They were jabbering and seemed happy to see each other on this holiday. And they tried to be as physically close together and as quiet as they could without breaking a rule-there was no physical contact allowed between visitors and inmates in the Kaibab.

She came up to me and blew me a kiss. She knew the rules; I'd mailed them to her. She looked horrified at my appearance; that was obvious.

"Honey?" she said, her meaning clear.

"I was in a fight. No big deal, they happen sometimes," I said. I was telling the truth, but what I didn't say was that I had little chance of ever winning any of the fights I would likely ever be involved in.

"Oh my God! I will talk to Blake. Maybe he can do something!" she said.

"It's no big deal. I can handle myself," I said. Now I was lying.

"But… " she started.

"I wanna hear about you and how you're doing. You look great," I said. She really did.

"Thank you, my darling man. I love you so much. I owe you so much. I'm doing good. I've been working. Blake said he was going to ask you if it would be all right if I quit. He said he would take care of the two of us, you and me. I mean if it's okay with you. I think he's worried about me living alone in the house. I mean you know how he is," she said. I nodded, but it was a dubious nod.

"If he thinks it's best. I mean I know he's got the money. But as to that, how is he doing if I might ask?" I said.

"He's doing good. I guess he's on his way to making his first billion. Well, that's what he tells me, but I think a lot of what he says is kinda tongue in cheek. I mean you know," she said.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure it's tongue in cheek. When it comes to money, he doesn't usually joke around. Money is his mistress, always has been," I said.

"Yes, well, I guess that is true enough," she said.

We talked for the full two hours, the allowed time limit for visitation at which point she blew me another kiss and was gone. And, then I was once again alone and bereft. Before leaving, she had made the point that she was almost crazy with guilt over what she'd caused and what I was doing to make up for it. Her words made me feel both sad and happy, go figure.

She had guaranteed that she would be talking to Blake about helping me out more if he could. She also told me that he planned to be back visiting me himself in the summer, and that she planned to be back by either Thanksgiving or Christmas again. Maybe more often if she did in fact quit her job. I said that that would be fine. I still did not want her to be visiting too often and chance her losing it emotionally.

It had taken her three and a half hours to make the drive up to the prison. And then there had been the body search which delayed her visit another half an hour; well, she wasn't the only one in line. The search per se had not been too invasive, and it could have been. The ride home took four and a half hours; well it got dark on the way home: it was the end of December.

The man was waiting for her, anxiously waiting for her when she finally pulled into the drive. He had decided that he would drive her himself next time.

She dropped her bag on the table in the receiving room and plopped down on the couch as he poured the mandatory liquid revival before joining her.

"The baby's sleeping," he said, delivering her a glass of white wine.

"Good, and thank you," she said, nodding toward the glass he extended to her outstretched hand.

"How is he?" he said.

"Bad. He'd been in a fight. I think he lost. He tried to make me believe that it was no big deal, but it clearly was a big deal. Blake, can't you do something to protect him in there? I mean more than you already are doing? I think he's in a bad way," she said. He looked down.

"I don't know," he said. "But I will look into it. I will do that in the morning." He did not want her in the know about the truth that he already had his lawyer doing so.

"Good. Please do. He's not a big guy and he has lost weight, a lot of weight," she said.

Chapter 9

"So, how did it go?" said Blake.

"Not good, but things are better now," said Jacob.

"Okay?" said Blake.

"He had been in a two-man cell and his cellmate had been abusing him sexually and had also beaten him up a number of times. But the last time was so bad that the cellmate, a Mister Brown, and yes that is actually the guy's name, was sent to solitary and then relocated to a different block. Julian is in a one-man cell now. Safe most of the time, but the loneliness is going to be bad. I've had other clients in situations like your man's in now, and it is not good, not good at all. I tell you, Blake, he is going to be climbing the walls and that in no time at all," said Jacob.

"Jesus, is there anything we can do to get him out of there?" said Blake.

"No, but if you guys could visit a bit more often. I can tell you it will be at least a little better," he said.

I was getting letters regularly from Ava, now. And I got a couple from my brother as well. That they were keeping me from going nuts was a great truth for sure. I needed those letters for two reasons, actually. One, they kept me from going nuts no question about it. Two, it was a matter of pride, prestige, status believe it or not. There was a deal of envy of inmates that had love letters from their women, kids, families. Long termers, like me, often got letters early on, as I discovered. But after a while the letters became fewer and fewer as the people in their previous lives moved on. I was sure that I would at least not be suffering that particular fate; I'd be proof against that. My situation was for sure unique, that by any standard. I actually felt good about being inside for my woman. Now all I had to do was survive for the next nineteen years.

I did get my visit from Blake in July '73. He seemed something. I guess he felt bad for me. Hell, I know for a fact that he felt bad for me. He told me about his business. He told me that Ava had indeed quit her job and while she was eternally sad about my situation, she was coping rather well. According to Blake, she even helped him out as an office assistant from time to time. She did mostly busy work, but useful for all of that. I felt good that my woman was not losing it as one might have said. That was important to me.

Blake did let me know that Ava would be visiting for Thanksgiving. I was glad; it was sooner than Christmas.

"So, Jacob said no way," said Ava. Blake Willis looked down.

"Not exactly, but he did say it was unlikely. He had been able to get the dope on Julian's now ex-cellmate. Some guy named Brown. A big guy, a black guy who hates white guys according to Jacob's info.

"He, Jacob, said that he was the one causing Julian trouble. Jacob was able to find out that the bad guy had been transferred to a different cell block. Whether it will do any good was arguable, there are other bad guys in prison. But that Brown guy wouldn't be hurting Julian anymore. I guess that's a plus." Ava nodded.

"Okay," she said. She looked over at the man, she had been looking out the window, not wanting him to see her tears. She noticed that he seemed nervous; well, Julian was his brother. She was about to realize that she had totally misread the man.

"Blake?" she said.

"Ava, what I am about to say may offend you, surprise you, shock you, confuse you; but please, let me finish before you go off on me. Please, okay?" he said.

"Blake, you have been the literal savior of me and my daughter, your niece. Whatever you say is not likely to offend me, really," she said. She was smiling, supportively smiling.

"Maybe," he said. "Ava, I've… I've… I've fallen in love with you," he said. The startled look in the woman's eyes, her wide-open mouth, said it all.

"Huh?" she finally said.

"I am fully aware that on a dozen levels me saying what I just said is both indefensible and impossible to expect you to understand," he said. "What is certain, however, is that it is absolutely true, and I don't know what to do about it."

"Oh my God!" she said, finally.

"Please, lovely lady, do not think that I expect you to reciprocate, or to betray your love for my brother. I just had to say it. It has been impossible for me to keep my feelings secret any longer," he said. "Absolutely impossible."

"Oh my God!" she repeated, and plopped down in a nearby chair. She looked down. She looked up, she looked over at the man across from her and stared.

"I need to think," she said. "Would that be all right?"

"Of course, and absolutely expected," he said. "At least you didn't tell me to go to hell."

"No, and I wouldn't ever say that to you for obvious reasons. But I do have to think," she said. He nodded. She rose and left the room. She would be talking to her less than year-old baby. She did that a lot.

She was pacing back and forth in her room, talking to herself and to the baby in the overly expensive crib across the spacious room, she was still asleep.

There was a man, the greatest man in the world, sitting in a prison cell. He was being abused, he was suffering, and doing so for her. He was taking her punishment, and she was actually considering, thinking about, betraying him, and that for the man's brother. Could she do it and live with herself? The clear answer: not a chance. Would she do it anyway? She swallowed.

She had developed the same feelings for Blake Willis that he had apparently developed for her. Though she had at no time intended to divulge her feelings to him; she did harbor those feelings. Was there any way to justify, to make things right by the man in prison, to mitigate the predictable fallout if she were to give into her feelings? And what about the fact that she had given birth to her suffering man's baby, and, kept that baby's very existence from him. The short answer to all of those things was again absolutely not!

And what if she did give into her feelings? Were she in fact to do so, she realized, she would have to tell Blake the truth, the whole truth about that awful day, the 'bad' day. What would Blake Willis think then, what would be his reaction, talk about potential fallout!

She fell onto her bed, and she cried; then, she slept.

It was summer, August 1973. Her main man had been in prison for over a year and a half. Blake Willis, the man's brother and herself were on the patio, neither of them were sitting down. Blake had outed himself and his feeling for her just days before. He had had to allow her the time she needed to think things over.

It was arguable which of the two was the more nervous. Blake Willis was afraid she was going to turn down what amounted to a proposal that he had made those few days earlier. For her part owning up to her guilt in the killing of Dante Rodriguez was the big deal; could she even do it was the question; did she have the courage?

He stepped back to the railing that circumscribed the condo's patio.

"Ava, I know you have something to say, maybe a lot to say; but, can I go first here?" he said. She sighed, but nodded her okay, but then changed her mind.

"Uh, Blake, I need to go first because what I have to say will likely affect what you have to say. In fact, I know it will," she said.

"Okay, but it isn't going to change what I have to say no matter what," he said. Ava Gardner snorted.

"Hmm, we'll see about that," she said, a tone of bitterness belying her actual words.

"Blake do you think I'm pretty?" she said. "I mean you know me sort of from back in the day when Julian and I were kids, right? You were living on your own by then, but you'd been around a little."

"Actually, I barely remember seeing you back then. I mean maybe, but if I even did, I don't really remember," he said. "But to answer your question: you're beautiful."

"You don't remember because I looked a lot different back then: I was fat, very fat. Nevertheless, I lost the weight and kept it off and I am whatever it is that I am now.

"Back then, Julian saved me from social ostracism by being, well, my boyfriend. I needed him; and well, I think he needed me too. We never did the deed or anything back then. A little touchy-feely, but not anything that would make the newspapers if you get my drift," she said.

"I know. Julian told me that he'd only done the deed with you the once; I mean like you told me; but he did manage to get you pregnant with Candace with just the one time anyway," he said.

"Yes, and like I also told you, I was no virgin because of my liaisons with Dante Rodriguez; the guy that Julian has been convicted of killing," she said. "And just to be clear, Julian thought that I was a virgin too the night we did do the deed."

"Yes, I know," he said.

"What you don't know, nobody knows but now you will, is that 'I' went to that cheap ass house of Dante's that day, and no not to kill him, but, I did. Julian came when I called, and to make a long story short, he took the fall for me. And I, the shitass coward that I was and still am, let him convince me to let him do so."

She stopped and waited for the verbal tsunami she was sure was about to ensue.

"Oh my God!" he said. "That does explain a ton. Yes, it fucking well does. My brother, my brother is a hero!"

"Yes, and no matter what, he will always be that to me," she said.

"But, Ava, like I said, this revelation doesn't change the way I feel about you an iota. But what it does do is change a whole lot of other things: namely how we, you and I, are going to be going forward with him. Oh yeah, that is going to be changing a lot."

"But I don't… " she started.

"Ava, our man is going to be in prison for the next eighteen years plus, maybe more. That means a big part of his life, your life, and my life are going to be history. Neither he nor we can afford to lose that much of our lives and call it okay, not on any level. So…

"You and I will marry, if you are willing that is. I will become Candace's de facto father. When our man gets out, he will be introduced to her, and both of them will have to do a lot of getting to know each other. Actually, it's Candace, even more so than Julian, who will have to be doing the adjusting. And, she must never be told the truth about Dante Rodriguez unless Julian, not you, not me, but Julian who does the telling if anyone does.

"Then we have the next big problem. Do we tell him about us getting married, I mean if we do get married, and if so when do we tell him?" he said.

"So, you are actually proposing to me even though you now know the whole truth," she said.

"Yes," he said.

"Okay then, my answer is yes. I'm terrified this could be the wrong thing; hell, I'm certain it is the wrong thing; I don't want us to be kidding ourselves about that, but yes," she said.

He strode toward her. He took her in his arms and kissed her, the first time he'd ever done so though he'd dreamed of it many times over the months since Candace had been born and had awakened in him the familial instincts that human beings were universally possessed of. They were both still standing near the condo's patio railing. She was leaning on it, but he was not.

"I love you Ava. I love you as much as I know my brother must. We will do right by him, somehow, once he is out of that awful place. And as for that, I will be doing everything I can to see to it that it becomes as easy on him as possible. Oh yes I will, that now becomes priority number one, if it wasn't already," he said.

Chapter 10

She was startled, and pleased. "Bea! It is so good to see you," said Ava, answering the door. "Come in, come in."

"You did say just to drop by any time," said Bea, entering as directed.

"Yes, I did, it's just that you are such a surprise," said Ava. "Have a seat," the visitor did so.

"Thank you," said Bea.

"So how have you been?" said Ava. "How are things at the store?"

"Good and good, I mean busy; well, you know," she said. "I was nearby: I have a doctor's appointment. And I decided to come by here first. I got a letter, believe it or not, from your man upstate." The look on Ava Gardner's face was pure surprise.

"A letter from Julian?" said Ava.

"Yes, delivered to the store, and it surprised me too. I mean he's never written to me before," she said.

"Okay?" said Ava.

"Yes, apart from the usual pleasantries, he asked if you and I were still close. He knows you quit your job, but of course he does not know about the baby. He said that when Blake visited him last time, in July rather than in June, he said, he seemed a little off. That is that Blake seemed a little off to Julian. I don't know Ava, he didn't ask me to do anything, or say anything to you or to Blake, but I do think he was fishing," she said. The other woman was nodding.

"Bea, I do appreciate you coming here to tell me about the letter. I don't know why Julian would have thought that his brother seemed off, as you say, not then for sure. Still, Blake's visitation being off schedule, kinda, might explain it. But really, there is no reason, or was none even in July, that should have caused Julian to be concerned about anything. I mean he is in prison, so I don't know, I guess the reality is that everything is off when one is incarcerated. Still, you coming by is kind of fortuitous," said Ava.

"Oh?" said Bea.

"Yes, something big is in the works, and I was going to be talking to you, especially you, soon," she said. "So, I guess now is soon."

"Okay?" said Bea.

"Yes, my man, our man, has been inside that awful place for the past year and a half, more than that actually. I will be visiting him on Thanksgiving. And, he still does not know about Candace. Blake picked up the gauntlet there and has made it his business to take care of me and the baby.

"When he visited Julian, he got Julian to okay me quitting work. He did so because I was pregnant and he, Blake, thought that I shouldn't need to be working given the need of the baby to have her mother around full time, as he, Blake, said.

"He did not tell Julian about the baby; we are still not ready to do so, and it may be a long time before we are ready. At any rate, Blake sold Julian on the belief that it was too hard on me to be working with everything that had happened to him, Julian, and that he needed to let me off the hook as it were. And, the truth is that Blake did not lie; it has been hard on me to work given my constant concern for my man," she said.

"I know. I was there; it was hard for you to stay focused on groceries and customers all the time."

"Yes, for sure," said Ava.

"Ava, I know that a lot of women have the same tragic problems you have, and do not have the resources that you did and do. But since you do have the resources it does make sense for you to take advantage of them," said Bea.

"Thank you for that," said Ava.

"You're welcome," said Bea, "but you said it was fortuitous of me to be coming by today?"

"Yes, and it is. I'm glad you're sitting down. Would you like a drink? I only ask because I think you may be needing one," said Ava.

"Okay," said Bea, looking questioningly at her friend. Ava stepped over to the mini-bar, really an oaken cabinet, that served the immediate needs of short-term visitors in the receiving room of the condo, and retrieved two short stem glasses and an open bottle of brandy. She poured a double into each glass, handed her visitor hers, and, picking up her own glass downed half of it in one go. Bea, for her part was more deliberate.

Ava was still standing but a few feet from her seated friend. They stared at each other.

"Yes, fortuitous," said Ava, "I would like you to be my maid of honor at my marriage to Blake." Bea Evans picked up her glass and downed what was left in it in one go.

Holding forth her glass, silently requesting a refill: she eyed the bottle of brandy covetously.

"I heard you, and I know I heard you right; but I can't believe I heard you," she said. Ava nodded, and poured the requested refill.

"I know. I can hardly believe it myself. He proposed and made his case to me just a few days ago," said Ava.

"You know this news is going to absolutely destroy your, I guess, used-to-be man," said Bea. "I mean especially since he is sitting helplessly in prison."

"It would if he were to find out about it," said Ava. "He won't till much further down the line, maybe not even until he gets out, or is close to getting out.

"Blake and I feel like such traitors, but the truth is we are in love. When the man gets out, he will be an instant millionaire. He will still be a major part of the family, and the hope is he will be a willing and enthusiastic father to his daughter. We are concerned about that one, since Candace will be a technical adult at the time, but we will be hoping."

"Oh my God, is all I can say," said Bea. "But, yes, I will be your maid of honor." She downed the second drink also in one go.

"Thank you. I will for sure be needing your support, and that even after the ceremony," said Ava. "Bea, along those lines, how are you doing financially if I may ask." Her friend started, but then shrugged.

"Surviving I guess," she said. "I mean not getting rich, but I usually pay my bills on time. Why do you ask?"

"Blake and I spend most of our time here at the house; well, since the baby came along. We get visitors now and then, but whenever we go out, the baby has to come with us. We've been thinking of hiring an on-call nanny. And because it would be an on-call thing we are willing to pay a premium to ensure her availability," said Ava.

"A premium?" said Bea.

"Yes, $500 a week. It would be mostly weekend duty, but sometimes during the week or special days, like when I go up to visit Julian, which I intend to continue doing," she said.

"And you're wondering if I'd be interested. Is that what I'm hearing?" she said.

"Yes," said Ava. "I know you and trust you. A stranger, no matter how well vetted, would still be a stranger. That is why we have so far held off." Bea was nodding.

"Okay, I can't see any downside to accepting your offer. I don't have a man to worry about, so at least for the foreseeable future it would be a good deal for me," she said. "Still would I be able to have some level of warning when you might need me. I mean a day would be good enough. And, I still would have to keep on keepin' on at the store. I rarely have much going, apart from work, but once in a blue moon as they say; I mean apart from my work schedule which is Monday through Friday," she said.

"Yes, we can work things out so you would have a heads up, well, usually," said Ava.

"Okay then," said Bea, "we have a deal."

"Yes, we have our nanny," said Ava. "It was really kind of an out of the blue piece of luck her coming by like she did. We know her, so no stranger, and she will be with us long term."

"Will she still be working at the market. I mean did she say?" said Blake.

"Yes, five hundred a week is about what she's making there at the moment, so her salary would for all intents and purposes be doubled. She's happy, and I feel a bit more secure than I might if it was someone we didn't know," she said. The man started pacing the floor.

"Blake?" said Ava.

"You know, I think I would like it better if we had her exclusively. I mean no market job in the way of her availability. And, she is your friend," he said.

"Huh?" said Ava.

"Just double what you told her we'd be paying her. Then she'd essentially be available all of the time. She'd have to check in with us each day, I mean in the morning, to see if we needed her. But apart from that, she would be clear the rest of the time. And, there is the side benefit that you and I could have lunches during the week downtown, and she'd still have more free time for herself. I mean, I don't know what do you think?" he said.

"Well, it sounds like a good deal for her? But she does have union benefits where she works: I mean retirement, medical, vacation and such," said Ava.

"I'll put her on the company payroll. Her bennies will be better than they are with the clerks' union," he said.

"Okay, I'll put it to her," said Ava.

"But the letter from Julian to her?" he said.

"Not sure why he contacted her. She's not sure either. She thinks he was fishing. Probably wanted to know if I was really all right, and maybe why you were late in coming up to see him, a month late," she said.

"Hmm, okay, ask her to please keep us informed if she would. I do not want our man to worry any more than he already is. That's important to me as I know it is to you as well," he said.

"Yes, and it is," she said.

Blake's visit in July was the best. I really needed to see him or Ava, one. That I'd agreed to Ava not having to work was a bit of a concern on my part. But Blake had said she was calmer now than had been the case earlier on, so I was tentatively okay with his thinking. We had decided, via a phone call she'd made to me, for her to come the week before TG-Day so as not to be swamped in the meeting room on the actual holiday per se. That turned out to be a good plan: we would have a table to ourselves.

But now it was the third Thursday in November and she was striding across the meeting room floor to see me. I stood as she approached my table. I was in better shape this time than when she'd come to see me before: well, Mister Brown was making his bed elsewhere since his assault on me.

She was smiling as she came up to me. Jesus she was beautiful! I so loved this woman. I actually felt honored to be doing what I was doing for her.

"Honey, you look so much better this time than last!" she said.

"Yes, I'm in much better shape this time around," I said. "How have you been. I mean you're not having to work anymore that's a plus, right?"

"Yes, I mean no, I'm not having to work anymore, and it is definitely a plus. You have been getting my letters okay, right?" she said.

"I have, and I reread them again and again," I said, smiling.

"Whoa, there cowboy. I guess I will need to be writing you more often," she said. "I don't want to have to think that you have to reread stuff because I'm not sending enough mail your way."

"My darling, it doesn't matter how many letters you send, I will be rereading them anyway. Your words and love are what keeps me going," I said. "My gosh how I love you." I could feel myself getting mushy.

"I'm glad," she said, "and I do love you too."

I wanted to ask her if she could see her way to coming up a bit more often, maybe on Valentine's Day, the day we had planned to marry as well as TG-Day or something. I decided to go for it.

"Honey, could I ask you for a favor?" I said.

"Seriously?" she said. "Of course, you can ask me for anything. I mean anything!"

"Well, I know we kinda agreed that you and Blake would alternate coming to see me once each during the year, but… " I started. I noticed a kind of odd, no, a kind of negative look in her expression.

"You would like it if I came more often and Blake, right?" she chanced.

"Well, I mean. I mean if it wouldn't be too hard for you. I mean you know. It does get kinda lonely up here. I mean… " I said. She smiled, but it was a wan, a weak smile.

"Of course, my darling man. I will work it out, and I'll talk to Blake too. Okay?" she said.

"Yes, well, if it wouldn't be too hard for you," I said.

"Too hard for me? It's a lot harder for you. I will work it out no matter what. I don't know why he and I haven't done so already," she said. I felt better. Still her initial look seemed to indicate that she really didn't want to come more often. But that was likely just my paranoia.

We talked for the full two-hour meet up, and in the end, I felt a lot better than I had at first, a lot better.

Chapter 11

The wedding party was small, and that by design. They weren't exactly hiding, but Blake Willis was a newly crowned billionaire, and billionaires were fodder for the paparazzi. Tabloids were available in state prison libraries even as limited in reading materials as they were.

The bride and the groom were standing opposite each other in front of the justice of the peace.

"I do," said Blake Willis.

"I do," said now Ava Willis, nee Gardner.

"You may kiss the bride," said the JOP officiating the ceremony. Blake Willis did kiss her and both he and his new wife were thinking of the same thing at the same time: Julian Willis.

The small, but very expensive wedding feast was held at the Burnside Country Club in Laughlin, of which the Willis family were members.

"How do you feel." said Bea. Blake was momentarily at the bar talking to an acquaintance.

"Wonderful, really," said Ava. "I am so proud to be Blake's bride. And yes, I know I will have to work hard to make it up to Julian. Blake knows it too. It is what it is." Bea nodded.

It was March 4th 1974. Several of Blake's employees and friends of the family were in attendance to witness the event: a group of eleven souls in all. The dancing and partying went on until the wee smalls, well, 1:00am

"Kevin, thanks for being my best man," said Blake.

"It was an honor, boss," said Kevin Hardy, smiling broadly.

"You will be in charge at the office while my wife and I are on our honeymoon," said Blake.

"Got it covered," said Kevin. "Millie and I have your back. We'll call if anything interesting or problematical comes up." Blake Willis, smirked.

"If you interrupt my honeymoon have a damn good reason," said Blake. His subordinate snorted.

"Hmm, I kinda figured that that would be a requirement," said Kevin. "But don't worry. My momma raised me right!"

"Good," said Blake.

The honeymoon in Montevideo was nice and quiet and beautiful.

"It is so nice here," she said.

"Yes, it is," he said. "I was here once before, on a business deal that didn't materialize, but I fell in love with the place and the people."

"The people have been nice to us. Very nice actually," said Ava. He noted her serious expression.

"Ava?" he said.

"He does want to see us more often," she said. "I mean like I told you."

"Yes, and we need to accommodate him in that," he said, "I think we have to; I mean given everything."

"Yes, yes indeed," she said.

"You went there last Thanksgiving. I will be going at the end of this month, March. Maybe you could go in June, then me late September or early October and you around the first of the year. That'll be doubling what we have been doing so far," he said. "Then we just recycle the same schedule thereafter," he said. She nodded.

"What about telling him. I mean…?" she said.

"I don't have the balls. Down the line. When it feels right," he said. "And, no I have no clue when that would be. But for sure it's not now, not for a long time is my thinking at this point."

"Okay, I guess that's the best we can do. I do so want to try and minimize the pain the man is certain to feel," she said.

"Of course, that is a prime concern. I am going to be setting up a deal for the man. I want him to be able to find himself another woman a woman of quality that will support him and make him happy. Financially, he will be set for life. I'm thinking ten million after taxes. And, we'll throw in a house, a car, maybe two of those. I don't know. What do you think?" he said.

"Yes, those. But what about a job? I mean with the big dollars he might not want to work, but knowing the man like I do, like we both do; I'm thinking he is going to want to work regardless," she said.

"I think you are right in that regard. But I will leave it up to him," he said.

"Blake, what if, when we do tell him, that he just tells us to go to hell," she said. The man looked down.

"That could happen, and then we play the hole card and pray for the best," he said.

"You mean Candace," she said.

"Yes," he said.

Asking Ava to consider coming more often was, as it turned out, a very good idea. Well, it was for me. I could well imagine that driving all the way up state, two hundred plus miles, would be inconvenient for Blake, but I was hopeful that such would not be the case for my future wife. At any rate, my family, and that's what they were, were going to be visiting twice every year now, each. Essentially, I'd be getting a visit every three months instead of every six months.

She was striding across to my table at that very moment: it's June,'74.

"My God it's good to see you," I said. "Blake coming a couple of months ago was good, but he ain't you. Well, I mean you're prettier." I was smirking.

"Hmm, thank you for that Mister. Every woman I ever met would be thrilled to have a man like you," she said.

"Yeah, but you're the only woman for me. You can be damn sure about that," I said. She gave me a look that was-something.

"I don't deserve you," she said, "I really don't."

"It's me that doesn't deserve you. A woman who is willing to do what you're doing for me; well, that is more than enough," I said."

"You're the one that's doing the doing. I will never be able to repay you for that, not ever. But I will be trying," she said. I snorted.

"Ava, you might not believe it, or understand it, but doing whatever it is that I'm doing makes me happier than I have ever been because I'm doing it for you," I said. I got a soulful look from her having said what I said. "Anyway, so how is everything back in Phoenix." changing the subject.

"Good, nothing happening out of the ordinary," she said. I nodded.

"And, you, I mean in here," she said.

"Getting by, same old same old," I said. "Things never change much around here. Oh, and before I forget, make sure you tell Blake thanks again for sending the money each month. The food isn't the best in here, but with the money he sends I'm at least able to get some good stuff at the canteen. I can't believe that I didn't mention it to him before, but anyway, please tell him for me. Okay?"

"Of course," she said.

As usual we talked for the whole two hours and then she was gone. I expected I'd be seeing Blake in a few months depending on his schedule, maybe September. That's what he told me when he last visited me.

I'd be thinking about my woman every single night until I saw her again, but Blake was a definite plus too. Still, all things considered, her tone was such that I did worry about her thinking, and how she was doing and holding it together. She said everything was fine, but her tone… I was just afraid of her worrying about me, maybe too much. I'd be emphasizing my concern when I saw my brother. He just had to get her to not be worrying about me, at least not so much.

And then I did get my visit from my brother; and, I had been able to get my message delivered about getting my woman to not worry so much. And I knew that, not just because Blake had told me so, but because it was mentioned on the next visit to me by my woman.

And then it was seven more years gone, 1981, and the two of them had not missed a single scheduled visit: him in March and September, her in June and Thanksgiving, or at least around those dates. Yes, they'd been delayed a few of times over those seven years, but in those cases, I'd always gotten a call or a letter letting me know the plan had been changed a bit.

But now it was already August of 1981; I'd been inside nine years, eleven to go, minimum. But then something must have happened and I couldn't imagine what. August 21st, 1981 and I had not gotten any visits so far this year: he'd missed in March and she'd missed her June visit. Neither had I gotten any letters or calls nor answers to my letters or phone pickups when I tried to call them. I'd sent them several letters, well three, asking them why, wondering why. But, again, nothing from them.

But now I had a visitor. It was my brother. My brother was finally visiting me. I was scared. Really scared. Something bad had happened. I was certain of it. I just hoped my woman was all right.

He was coming toward me across the room. The room was only maybe half full this visiting day. He stopped a few feet from me and looked down. Oh my God I was scared. I was seated.

"It's bad news, isn't it?" I said. "Something bad has happened. Blake tell me my woman is okay. I mean… " He looked up.

"No, no, Ava's fine," he said. He finally took a seat across from me. I gave him a questioning look.

She was fine, he'd said. But he did not have the look that indicated everything was fine. I waited for him to say something meaningful.

"Julian, I know, and you know that I know the whole story. We've talked it over often enough over these last years," he said.

"The cops… they know… " I started. I was terrified that some cold case detective or other had outed us.

"No, no, nothing like that. Really. But Julian, what I am about to say you need to let me say. All right? Please do not interrupt me. When I am done, I will answer any questions you have and do whatever I can to make things good by you. Okay?" he said.

"Huh? I mean, okay, sure, I guess," I said. For what seemed like a long time, but was likely no more than a long minute, the man just stared at me.

"Julian, you've been inside of this awful place for nine years, more actually. At a minimum, you will be in here for another eleven years. You're in here because you heroically saved Ava from getting life behind bars or worse. And again, of course, you know that I know the whole truth. We needn't get into that, not now," he said.

"Okay?" I said. "But what…?"

"Julian, please," he said. I shrugged and waited for him to continue.

"Julian, Ava is married. She's married to me, and, we have a daughter," he said.

"Huh… I mean huh…?" I said.

"It just happened," he said. "We fell in love."

"She's dumping me? I mean dumping me for you, my own brother? I mean… Oh my God! I don't know what I mean!" I was literally gasping for breath. My heart, my physical body part, my heart, my heart was beating an irregular rhythm.

"I know this is a terrible shock. I know you are going to be more than angry, bitter. I don't blame you. Neither does Ava," he said. "We decided to tell you because keeping it from you was becoming too much for us. But there is another side to this coin…"

"Huh?" I was beginning to tear up. "I can't…"

"When you get out of here, you will be an instant millionaire. You will be rewarded any way it is possible to reward a hero like you, and you are a hero. Please, Julian, try not to hate us. Twenty years, twenty-five years, was just too much for our girl. Please," he said.

"It is too much for me too," I said. "She promised me… before God, she said." I had somehow calmed down. I sounded calm, well, I think I did. Then, I didn't sound at all. I went silent.

He'd delivered his message, and hers. I was not going to make it easy on him. He could stay or he could go, but I was just going to sit and wait, wait for the siren to end visiting. He kept talking, but I wasn't really listening; I was crying, silently sobbing, and I hoped he noticed; well, and of course he noticed; it was obvious.

"Julian… " he said, as the siren sounded more than an hour after his evil announcement.

He stood and started to walk off. I remained seated. A dozen feet or so from where he'd been seated, he turned and looked at me. "I am so damn sorry," he said. And then he was gone. I'd gotten one final look from him just as he got to the steel door that he had to leave through.

I didn't know if I would ever see him again, but what I did know is that I would never speak to him again, not as long as I lived, which I hoped would not be overly long.

I was back in my cell and crying my eyes out. I wondered if she would ever even try to visit me now. I would be taking them off of my approved visitor list and refuse any more canteen and phone money from him: that too was a list I had control of; I could not stand to see or hear from them. No, I could not!

I guessed, that given what she'd done, that I would be for sure relegated to the back burner now. She had already skipped her usual summer visit. She had a life now on the outside, and I was no longer any part of it.

The man had said that they had a kid. Maybe they'd have more before I got out. He said he'd give me money when I got out. Would I take it? Hell no! I had no hope now, nothing, none.

Chapter 12

They sat across from each other, wordlessly. The sounds of her sobbing were the only sounds. Well they were for some time, but then she spoke.

"Does he hate me? Did he say that he hated me?" she said.

"No, he didn't say anything, not really, after I got done telling him, well, what I told him.

She sobbed some more.

"Did you mention to him that we'd be taking care of him when he got out and as much as possible even while he is in that awful place?" she said.

"Yes, I let him know that he was going to be a millionaire when he got out. But that didn't seem to register with him, not while I was there. I guess the shock was just too much for him; I can tell you it would have been for me for damn sure," he said.

"And, Candace?" she said.

"I just mentioned that we had a child. He didn't react to that either. All he seemed to care about was you, or maybe your marriage to me. He sees it as you dumping him, and he's hurt. Bad hurt," said Blake.

"I did not dump him, not the way those words sound. I still love the man on some level. How could I not?" she said.

"Yes, and that goes for me too. And, as you said a minute ago, we will be there for him not only when he gets out, but as much as possible while he is inside too. Jacob has his marching orders. I know we can't get him out early. But I have seen to it that he no longer has to share a cell with any of the scum that are in that place. And, Jacob is trying to see if he can get him rotated to a less strict unit in the prison. That Kaibab unit is bad, very bad.

"I gotta tell you, Ava, I hated telling my brother the truth today, even if it wasn't the whole truth: I mean about Candace and such. It is the toughest thing I have ever had to do in my entire life," he said. She nodded.

"I know. Do you think that maybe at Thanksgiving we could go up together and maybe see about assuaging his pain? Maybe even tell him about Candace. I mean what do you think?" she said.

"I don't know. He probably thinks that we won't be visiting him now because we have outed ourselves. So, visiting him, or trying to, could be good or it could be bad. I mean even Candace doesn't know the truth about her birth," he said.

"And that raises the question of whether or not we should inform her before we went up there. I mean if we do," she said.

"Yes," he said. "And Thanksgiving is still a ways off. I think I might send him a letter, or maybe you could. The look he gave me when I left the visitation hall-despair… " She was nodding.

"Okay, you went up there and faced him. I guess I can at least write a letter begging his forgiveness and letting him know that we would like to visit him," she said.

"Yes, especially that; I mean the visiting thing," he said. "That might get him to thinking that it would be good to have us come up if only so he could vent. He's sure as hell entitled to do a little of that."

"You mean a lot of that!" she said, and the tears came again.

"Yes," he said. "I am going to do my best to find out exactly what he is going through and to mitigate anything that I can. The Governor will be running again, and so will be his lieutenant governor. I'm going to be making big donations to their campaigns.

"Okay," she said. "Good. That'll help our man, right?"

"Maybe, hopefully," he said.

I was the only occupant of my cell, a fact which pleased me, especially now that I had been abandoned by my family. But while I was the only occupant of my cell; I was not the only occupant of the prison, or of the Kaibab. The worst of the worst were in level four, my level. Yes, there is a level five, but those inmates aren't really alive anymore and actually have no hope whatsoever. I am in for maybe twenty-five years, but there is a likely end at that point barring anything else seriously bad happening to me. So, no, the Kaibab is the worst for all intents and purposes.

But like I say, I may be in a single occupant cell, but I still had to interact with other inmates at various times, like in showers and at meals.

Then it was the end of August, a few days after Blake's visit.

I'd knew to keep my mouth shut especially after my trouble with Mister Brown, but my self-control was not the best after my meeting with Blake Willis my ex-brother. I didn't want to be bothered by anyone else while I was in the mental state that I was in. But Juan Miranda decided he wanted to bother me.

I knew him. He was a gang leader, not the number one guy, but he had torque as they say. There was always a coterie of bad guys following his somewhat plump ass around. And today he was looking for entertainment, personal entertainment: he chose me.

"Willis, you're mine today, and maybe some of my boys here," he said. I just kept walking across the yard. He and his followed me back into the block. I had to walk by other cells to get to mine, and they were open for our little one-hour recreation period. As I passed 309 the inmate tripped me-on purpose.

I hit the floor face down and one of the bad guys dragged me inside. Then two of the three guys following behind their leader crowded inside with me, him, and the occupant of 309.

"Pants the little shit," said Juan to his boys. They did so. I wasn't getting out of it and screaming for a guard could get me killed. They flipped me over and Mister Miranda situated himself on top of me. One of his boys lubed me up with something, and then he did me. Another one mounted me after his boss did. This was bad. I knew I'd be bleeding all over the place if they all did me.

The second one having finished with me, I flipped myself upright and then did the unpardonable thing. I told the lot of them to fuck themselves.

"What did you say puta," said Juan.

"I said fuck yourselves!" I said, and I said it real nasty. I saw it and I quailed: the shiv. For a homemade weapon it was long, maybe four or five inches long. He was going to kill me!

"No," I said. He laughed.

"Hold him. Hold him tight," said Juan.

I was pushed down on the floor. Two of them gripped my ankles, one pinned my arms over my head, while another one; I think it was the cell's occupant, covered my mouth. There would be no screaming for help.

"Now, pussy, I'm going to make an actual woman out of you," said Juan. I couldn't see him do it. But I did feel it as he cut into the flesh of my penis and began sawing. I was doing my damnedest to scream and kick but there was no way, no hope.

I could feel the hot wetness of the blood pouring out of my groin. The big man stood over me and waved my penis at me.

"Now, you're a real female woman," he said, and laughed. He passed my severed cock and the knife he'd used to do it to me back to one of his gang and said something to him in Spanish.

They let me loose. I was still conscious but barely. I crawled out into the corridor and tried to make it to the stairs. Then everything was dark.

The room was green. I remember reading somewhere; it'd been a long time ago, about the execution chamber in San Quentin prison, in California. It'd been green. Well, it's what I'd read. I was sentenced to a long time inside, but not to death. Nevertheless, I felt like I was about to be executed. But the medic tending to me seemed, what, sympathetic.

"I'm sorry, Mister Willis," he said. Then I remembered. I remembered what Miranda had done to me. The medic walked out. I think he was embarrassed. Me on the other hand: I was humiliated, desperately humiliated, and despairing. I wasn't a man anymore. I was a thing, genetically a male, but not really. I wanted to die. I wanted to be executed; dead would be good.

But then I got another visitor, a new doctor; well, new to me.

"Mister Willis, because of this latest thing happening to you, we ran some tests. Mister Willis, you are HIV positive, not AIDS let me say, but the virus that can cause AIDS. You have been HIV, apparently, for a while. The upside, and I more than realize that seeing any upside to all that's happened to you is well nigh impossible, but the fact is you will be okay if you follow instructions," he said. I just looked at the man stared at him. Maybe I could manage to die after all. I'd be thinking on that. We talked a little longer, well, mostly he did, and then I was left to my misery and my nothing future. I would be in the infirmary for a while longer; under the circumstances, I saw that as a plus.

I wondered if my so-called brother would try to visit again, or his wife. I wondered if he would know what had been done to me. I figured he would sooner or later. He would convince himself that he wanted to be good to me in spite of his betrayal, and hers. He would offer me money, probably a lot of money. I didn't know how much he had, but he had said I was going to be a millionaire. I wondered what good money would be to an ex-male. Not much was my thinking. No, not much at all. I wouldn't take any of it anyway, not his money, not ever.

The rich guy, my brother, had visited me in August. It was now two weeks before TG-Day. I had gotten a letter, a short letter. She had asked if I was okay with her coming to see me. I ignored it. I trashed it. I wasn't going to allow them to come anymore-my way of punishing them-and I did have that power; I could take them off my approved visitor list, and I did.

"So, you are going to try and see him," said Blake.

"Yes, like I said, he has not answered any of my letters not even to tell me not to come, so, well, I'm gonna try."

"You have any idea what you might be gonna say to the man?" he said.

"No, but if he'll see me, I will answer anything he asks. And, well, I'm not going to lie to the man. We've done enough of that. Openness and honesty from here on out. The only thing I am not going to be telling him is about Candace. If he ever learns about that it's going to be like we talked about: after his release or just before if that seems like a good idea at the time," she said.

"Okay, good. I agree with you on all of it," he said. "He's still got eleven years to go, or close to it. I think, actually I know, the man is lonely. We can help a little in that regard if he'll let us. He might hate us, or at least me, but that doesn't mean he wants to be abandoned. We will keep going to see him like before, or trying to, and maybe, just maybe, little by little get him to forgive us.

"Ava, even if he tells us not to come, we will anyway. He can turn us away, when we go there, but we will be going there, regardless," he said.

"Yes, I agree," she said. "For sure, I agree."

Chapter 13

She did come to see me, well, some woman had. But I had taken them off the list. I stayed in my cell. I hoped the price of gas was high. Maybe it would dissuade them from trying to visit me. Hah! There's an upside to everything.

I had officially taken them off my visitors list. Still, I was concerned that he might use his money and no doubt considerable political influence to try and override my actions if he did he wouldn't much appreciate my reaction. But then another year passed, and he either did not try or could not get in to see me against my wishes. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, he has taken us of his approved visitor list," he said.

"Yes, we are definitely persona non grata," she said.

"He is making a statement, I guess," he said. "Wants you, us, to know how he is feeling without him actually using words to tell you, us." She stared crying, something she'd been doing a lot of.

"Yes, I guess so," she said. "So, are we still going to be keeping to our plan to try and visit him even though he's taken us off the visitor list?"

"Yes, I think it's the only tool we have in our tool box," he said. She was nodding.

Then It was January 1990, more than eight more years had passed, and they had tried to visit me just like before, but I had ignored their attempts. I wondered how they were dealing with that.

I had gotten letters, too, announcing that they were coming each time. I never answered any of them. None of the letters had mentioned my lack of manhood or my HIV situation. I guess the man had not discovered that particular shortcoming, my shortcoming. I still had to figure that he eventually would, but who knew for sure.

And one other thing: my refusing to accept his money orders was mentioned in the letters I'd gotten. All of them, the money orders, had been returned to sender! I actually felt good about that; it would be a reminder to them that his money meant zero to me.

What are you looking so, something, about?" said Blake.

"Nothing really all that big," said Ava.

"Ava?" he said.

"Really, it's no big deal. It's just that I'm pregnant with what appear to be twins," she said.

"Huh?" he said.

"Like I say, it's no big deal. It happens all the time," she said.

"Jesus-HQ-ree-eyest!" he screamed. "Pregnant!"

"Well, it's what the doctor said. I mean but what does he know?" she said.

"Stop that, stop that silliness right now!" he said. "Oh my God! Oh my God! This is big news. Oh my God!" he said, repeating himself serially.

"When?" he said.

"July," she said, smiling. "Likely the middle of the month."

"Oh my God!" he said. He suddenly took on a solemn expression. And you're scheduled to try to visit him in June."

"Yes, and I've been thinking about that too. There's no reason he can't see me pregnant, I mean if he will. But it is a long trip up there to that little town. I mean if we do continue to try and see him. Maybe we should change the schedule or something. What do you think?" she said.

"Yes, yes. And no, him seeing you pregnant, might be a small problem, but he knows we're married and that these kinds of things happen. It can't make things any worse than they already are," he said. "At any rate I can't imagine how it might."

"Yes, but the schedule thing…?" she said. "Like you say, seeing me that way may not make a difference, but I really don't want to be rubbing his nose in stuff, or even seeming to."

"Okay, yes. Let's do it this way. I'll go up next month: February instead of March, maybe even take Bea along. From now on, we'll be playing visitation by ear or sort of. He may have decided to shut us out, but if we keep trying, it'll be like we're sending a message of our own that at some point he might be willing to respond to. Anyway, all we can do is hope. And after next month my next visit will be in August my scheduled usual. Then you can try to see him again in November your scheduled usual. We'll see how it goes after that. Okay?" he said.

"Yes, and that's a good idea about Bea going with you next month. Yes, I'll be asking her to ride up with you. I know she'll be okay with it, no doubt whatsoever," she said.

"Good, good, very good," he said. "Twins, I can't believe it, and it makes me so damn happy."

"Well, and I am so damn happy that you're so damn happy," she said, smiling.

My brother did try to visit me again in February instead of his usual March visit; I'd gotten the letter announcing that he would. But there was a new wrinkle: he wrote that he would be bringing Beatrice Evans along. I'd be turning them both down.

And I did. Bea was their friend and therefore no longer mine. Any friend of the two of them would forever be my enemy for what that was worth.

And then I got a letter, in Late July (1990) : she was the mother of twins. Meaningless shit as far as I was concerned. Oh, and the names of the twins: why Juliana and Jules. How nice of them to name them after me, also meaningless, but I'm sure that they considered it an olive branch. I considered it nothing.

She had not tried to visit me in June which had been her usual time. I guess she'd been too far along for that especially since they were fully aware that they were persona non-grata.

And then it was August and he tried to visit me, again. I refused to see him again, as usual.

And then a month later I got another visit request by one Beatrice Evans, and she was alone. I saw this as a break. I decided to see her, briefly see her. I wanted to send a message.

She saw me as soon as she came through the steel doorway. "They're kinda desperate to get you to talk to them.," she said, taking a seat across from me. "They want to do right by you."

"Don't care. They are dead to me. And, if you're their friend, so are you. Tell them that," I said. Then, I got up and walked out. I didn't even look back to see how my words might have impacted her. I really would have liked to see how my message would be received back in traitor's-ville, but well…

I'd told her that any friend of theirs was an enemy of mine, but over the last several years there had been one exception to that rule.

Jacob Paskin worked for the bad guy. I knew that, of course. But I never really thought about it; it was like I had kind of compartmentalized him and his relationship to them in my head. But Bea's attempted visit changed my thinking. I'd be telling Jacob that he was no longer my lawyer. That working for my enemy was not acceptable. Yes, I would be doing that immediately.

I decided to write my enemies a letter. I'd be letting them know that Jacob Paskin was also persona non grata and to let him know it. I guess I did still have an arrow or two in my quiver.

"How was he?" said Ava.

"Bad. Despairing. He did see me. But he saw me just long enough to let me know that you, the both of you, were dead to him, and me too because I'm a friend of yours, and then he got up and left me, left me sitting there. The visit last maybe a whole minute," said Bea.

"Oh my God!" screamed Ava.

"One thing though. The man looked weak, ill, something. I never got a chance to ask him how he was feeling; but if asked now, I would have to say not good," she said.

"Blake?" said Ava.

"Yes, of course. I will have Jacob check into it," he said.

"My God, Blake. What are we going to do," said Ava.

"I don't know, not yet. But we are definitely going to be doing something. And, we do still have the hole card-maybe," he said.

"The question is, if he really is bad sick, dare we let him know, or for that matter let Candace know, the truth?" said Ava. "I mean that he's a daddy?"

"She's an adult now. A high school grad. She'll be starting college in another month. She's smart, got good horse sense. Maybe if you tell her and then ask her about stuff if you get my drift," said Bea.

"Yes, that might be the way to go. If we do tell her, we'll have to tell her the whole story of her birth and my weakness that caused her dad to be in prison," said Ava. "How she'll react…"

"Like I say, she's a smart kid. She might even be able at some point to get him to come around to being a member of the family. I mean if she can be convinced to buy into your reasoning," said Bea.

"So many 'ifs'," said Ava. "And all of them because I was a fool. A man's life ruined, another family created, problems everywhere one looks, and all my doing." She burst into tears.

"Ava, you and Blake can take care of the man. Whatever he needs, wants, even if he doesn't want you to take care of him; he needs to be getting the care anyway, that's all you can do, all anybody can do."

"Yes, we do have to try," said Ava.

"We will," said Blake.

Chapter 14

And it was two weeks after TG-Day, 1991, the thirteenth of December; and she tried again to see me. She tried in vain to see me. I hope it messed up her Christmas spirit. I was certain that they'd gotten my letter relating to Jacob no longer being my lawyer, but so far no reaction from them concerning that, or from him.

Again, I figured that mister Paskin was probably still working on getting me out even though I had fired him. But I wasn't getting out, not soon. I'd gotten gigged a few times over the last couple of years by a couple of different guards and that didn't help; but, then again, maybe he wasn't trying to help me; I sneered at the thought.

I was still getting attempted visits by the dynamic duo. And, I still refused to see them or answer their fucking letters or any of it.

And then it was the Christmas holidays '93, and I reluctantly accepted an out of the blue visit by mister Paskin in the first week of December: I had a feeling.

"I know you wanted to fire me, but I've kinda been ignoring your order," he said.

"You work for the bad guys. That makes you persona non grata, I think is the legal term," I said.

"I work for you. The bad guy, as you call him, is paying me, but he would be anyway; I'm on retainer. Hate him if you want, but leave me out of it. I stared at him.

"Okay, but do not bring up either of the bad guys to me ever again, or I will not be so accommodating," I said. He nodded.

"Okay, I understand. I will not mention them anymore. That good enough?" he said.

"Yes," I said. And then we did talk and that for some time. And he did have news.

I would be getting out in January '94. He told me to lie low and not piss anyone off: his exact words actually.

And then I got a letter. It was mostly shit as usual, but it was interesting on one level: my traitorous brother was offering me ten million. I guess he figured that that would be enough to pay for my twenty-two years behind bars and the loss of my woman; oh, and yes, my manhood. Well, I wasn't sure about that part since he didn't know about it.

"He just got the info now. Just now. It's been two years," said Ava.

"Yes, but it was illegal to get it through regular channels; the man had his records sealed; he can still do that even being a prisoner.

"When I'd put him on the case, Jacob, I'd told him not to worry about it too much since Julian seemed to be generally okay health-wise, in spite of Bea's thinking," he said. "But now…"

"Okay then, what did Jacob say is wrong with him," she said. Her husband looked down.

"I really do not want to tell you, Ava, please let it go. You don't need the details. He is not in any danger of dying or anything like that, okay," said Blake.

"Blake, please," she said. "Honey, you're scaring me. You have to tell me. Please," she said.

"Ava, he is HIV-1 positive, and… " he said, and stopped.

She sagged down on the couch and cried. "And?" she said, finally.

"Ava, I can't… " he said. She cried some more, but she did stop pressing the man: she was afraid to hear anymore.

They held each other and cried softly together.

"Wow," said Bea, and that very quietly, softly. "HIV positive. The man can't buy a break. And he's shining on ten million dollars and a house and a couple of cars! He's nuts, but that he is also purely bitter is perfectly understandable for sure."

"Yes, perfectly understandable are the right words that's for damn sure," said Ava.

"Anyway, so when is the man getting out, then."

"Hopefully January 25th. That's what Jacob said is likely. Twenty-two years in that place. Things are so different now than they were when he went inside. He's going to need help. He'll be in a halfway house for the first few months, but after that… " said Ava.

"If he'd only let you and Blake help him out, and I don't mean just with the money," said Bea.

"Yes, if only," said Ava.

I sighed. I was in my cell alone, ruminating. I'd never heard of anything like what happened to me happening before; well, before it actually happened to me. But of course, now I had. It wasn't even that rare. I had been able to get my medical records sealed: dickless and HIV positive. At least, so far, they hadn't discovered my physical state. Likely they would eventually, but not from me, hell no, not from me. I'd been humiliated way more than enough already.

No one would know about my predicament and be able to talk smack about me behind my back, and they would if they knew. I especially did not want the Willis clan, the Willis' on the outside, to know anything. I was assured that it was against the law for anyone to get my records without a court order, and I'd be apprised of any attempt like that before the records could be released. No, I was covered. Well, I was legally covered.

"What wasn't covered was the prison's rumor mill. Other cons in our block knew about it. They were not in a position to publicize anything, but they knew. I'd gotten looks from the gays and various gang members ever since mister Miranda had essentially womanized me. But, the very small and almost insignificant upside to the whole matter was that I was being left alone, mostly. There was still the occasional blow job that I was required to provide any particularly horny asshole who had the torque to take me down; and there were a deal of those.

But all said and done, I was more or less cool for these last many years since the attack in '81.

I'd still gotten attempted visits from my brother and his wife each of which I ignored.

But then I got the most important visit that I'd gotten in the last twenty-two years.

I was seated; and the meeting room was all but empty. It was January 15th, 1994.

"How are you doing?" said Jacob Paskin. I shrugged.

"Depends," I said.

"You will, and it's for sure now, be getting out on the 25th of the month," he said. My smile was for him as much as for me if not to the same degree.

"And now it no longer depends: I'm doing wonderful," I said. The other man grinned.

I was sitting in the infirmary's so-called waiting room, really just a green interrogation room, waiting for the doctor. The door swung open and he came in.

He took a seat opposite me, and smiled. "So, you'll be leaving us in another week or so," he said without preamble.

"Yes, sir," I said. "I've served my time."

"Okay, you've been receiving treatment for your injuries and the virus here these past years; and you will be eligible for treatment and medication from the state upon release. When you do leave, you will be given two sets of papers to carry with you that need to be presented to any hospital or clinic you choose to be your primary care provider. You may xerox any of the papers you wish. However, the two sets are identical, so copies may not be necessary; but that'll be up to you," he said.

"Thank you, sir." I said.

The folks in the infirmary had always been good to me; well, they were medics. I was planning to go back to Phoenix at least initially. Wherever I settled it would eventually be away from the bad guys and their tokenism. Yeah, I know ten million bucks could do it for almost anybody, but not nearly for me. I saw it, the amount, as an insult. They could keep their cash and choke on it-hopefully.

And then I was out on the street, literally on the street, and on my own. I didn't even avail myself of the halfway house, and I could have for a short time. I knew the town from my days driving trucks and hauling rock and sand. And almost from day one I was able to make some bucks doing day labor.

Initially, I had four hundred and nineteen dollars in my poke from work I did in prison, and, truth told, from some of the money the rich guy had sent along for me to use-before I cut him off-that I hadn't used up. That much, limited though it was, covered me for the first few days.

The town was more crowded than it had been twenty years before. Well, that was progress, I guess. It didn't take me long to see how things had changed: prices of things more than anything else. I actually felt lucky that I didn't have a car as soon as I discovered the price of gas! But really everything was more expensive. It was going to be tough for a while, but hell, it was way worse inside.

I'd been out a month and had me a room not populated with too many roaches. I was a regular at Mac's where the old one-dollar meals were now five dollars. Like I said, prices. But then it happened. They'd found me. The two of them trapped me in a booth at Mac's just as I was about to bite into my filet of fish.

"How are you doing," said Blake. His wife just stared at me.

"Why are you here?' I said. "I figured you'd have gotten the message by now."

"Oh, we've gotten your message, but we decided to ignore it. Look let's talk about money for a moment," he said.

"No, and if you try, I'm outta here and outta town so as to not have to listen to your bullshit. And I mean even if I have to humiliate myself by crawling under the table to escape you scum. Got it?" I said. "Now get the hell outta here." And I was staring at the man real hard.

"Okay, okay, anything you say. But can we to talk to you for just for a few. Can we at least do that," he said.

"Please," said Ava. I looked over at her. She sure did look good. I nodded. I decided to say so.

"You look real nice. He must have a lot of fun undressing you nights," I said. "The sex good? I dream about the two of you doing it almost every night."

"Huh?" she said. I could see I'd really struck a nerve with my ex-brother.

"Well, dreaming is all I got. For twenty-two years it's all I got. I mean you understand," I said. "Whaddya want?"

"First, we are praying that you will forgive us for been so-something," he said. "Truly, Julian, we want to do right by you. We will for sure make mistakes. And neither of us can ever really know what you've been through these many years. But we will both be doing our damnedest to make it up to you," he said.

"No, no forgiveness. No forgetfulness. Nothing for the two of you, not from me. And, for damn sure you have no idea how bad it was for me in there-Ava!" I said. "But, actually, I don't want to mislead you about the sex. I did get a lot of sex when I was inside, but, sadly, I was always the woman. Not much fun in that, not for me. I mean you know."

I'd focused my last comments on her specifically. She seemed to choke on my singling her out with my remarks.

"Julian, we are so very glad you are out, for sure that," she said. "I know it was my fault…"

"Yeah well, that's damn considerate of you," I said.

"And… " she said.

"And?" I said.

"And, we know it's gonna be kinda hard for you at least in the beginning, now that you're out." she said.

"So?" I said. "That's my business not yours."

"We'd like you to move in with us," she said.

"Into your condo? Not a chance. Being around the two of you while you're upstairs screwing and getting all kinky an everything, well… not a chance," I said. "My dreams have been bad enough over these last many years. I don't need you rubbing my nose in your happiness nightly for goddamn sure!"

"Julian, I… " said Ava.

"No, no, not the condo. We've moved. We're living in Laughlin, Nevada, now. We have a guesthouse on the property that you'd be welcome to stay in, and it's completely separate from the main residence," Blake said.

"Guest house? You mean servants' quarters right. Fuck off!" I said. "I'd rather be dead than have to sponge off of you two."

"Look, Julian, do you have any money at all?" he said.

"That's none of your goddamn business. Now you can fuck off and go," I said. The woman had apparently decided to ignore my vehemence.

"Like my husband said, Julian, you would have a place of your own, and we really do want to help you get started. And for sure we are not trying to hurt you or rub your nose in anything. Really, please!"

"You won't be doing anything for me, or with me, because I hate the two of you." I said. "You know, Ava, I wouldn't even enjoy having sex with you, I mean if you'd even offer, you make my skin crawl!" she had a look of horror on her countenance.

"Look Julian, we know we've done you wrong," he said. "Please give us a chance to make things right."

"No," I said. "Not now not ever."

"Okay, okay, I guess we understand, but the offer is out there, no expiration date. Okay?" He said.

"Fuck off. I wanna eat." I said.

"Julian, at some point I'd appreciate it if you would be willing to sit down with me and talk over things, everything, and yes including money," he said.

"Never, asshole, like I told you when you sat your unwelcome asses down here… " I started.

"Okay, okay, please. Forget I said anything," he said. "Do what you want. I just hope that someday you can find it in your heart to lighten up, just a little bit, toward us." I was steaming, but I let it slide, his stupid offer and his asshole remarks.

"You make me sick. The two of you make me sick!" And I chomped down on my filet of fish. They got up and finally left.

Chapter 15

I struggled over the next weeks, but I was able to work enough to be able to eat. And, as noted, I'd got me a not too vermin infested place to shack up: apartment 305 at the Hilltop Motel. The good news there was the truth that nobody bothered me: not the bad guys, not other inmates-well, apart from the vermin-nobody. Jesus, I loved my situation low class and low rent that it was!

Phoenix had a couple of drawbacks: it was a big city, it was expensive, and it was kinda spread out. I started to think about what the bad guys had said about having moved their residence to Nevada. I knew where Laughlin was. I'd checked it out with some of the Mexicans that I worked with on the day labor force that hung out around the west side of town. It, Laughlin, was just across the river from Bullhead City, which city was in Arizona geographically, not Nevada.

I decided to check the place out, Bullhead: the big city was too damn expensive. But I was for sure gonna stay the hell away from the bad guys across the Colorado in Nevada. I got me a bus ticket. I'd saved a few bucks working; I was pretty sure I could get me a room cheap enough once I was up there. It turned out that I was right, and, a job! Was I a lucky sonovabitch or what!

The Sand Bar was the very definition of a dive bar: friendly, smallish, with an outdoor patio, and a pool room with two more or less well-balanced tables. The owner, Angel Suarez, was friendly and knowledgeable about the area and in my first week in the village I learned a lot. And more importantly, I learned I liked it, Bullhead.

"So, you've decided to hang your hat here in Bullhead," said Angel.

"Yeah, I wanted out of the big city. This place is perfect for me," I said.

"You got a job?" she said.

"Not yet. Gotta get one pretty quick, but I ain't proud, I'll do about anything," I said. "Should be able to get me somethin' soon enough."

"Well, maybe you're in luck. Henry and I are the only ones workin' here these days since Janice quit. You wanna work here?" she said. I gave her a 'thank my lucky stars' look and nodded.

"Heck yes," I said.

"Okay, show up tomorrow at 9:00," she said. "I'll let Henry know your comin' and he'll square you away. You got a place to stay?"

"Been motelin' it, but kinda runnin' low on funds. So, gettin' this gig is gonna work for me," I said.

"Okay, this is the deal. The pay is minimum and tips, you keep your own. But, there is a room in the back you can have with its own bathroom; it'll be yours. It ain't much but it's free and you can eat free if you like living on Pizza and frozen sandwiches. How's all that sound?" she said.

"It sounds freakin' wonderful," I said, meaning it. "When can I move in?"

"Any time," she said. And just like that I was saved. Who needed billionaire brothers and their whores!

It turned out that Angel and Henry were the co-owners of the place. Angel had needed a partner at one point and Henry, a high-end chef-not just a cook-wanted to retire from the artistic side of food and beverage and have a little fun and relaxation. He put up the cash, and she put up the partnership and they were in business, and the place did pretty good business overall. But now they had found themselves short-handed with the disappearance of their last tender.

And then there was me. A week into their search for a new tender, I filled the dual need: theirs and mine. Oh, and no they did not at that point know shit about me. I guess I looked honest and hard working.

"And so, you have zero experience," said Henry.

"That would be accurate," I said.

"Well, that can be both good and bad. Good because you will learn to do it our way and you won't have any old habits that need to be discarded. Bad because you don't know anything. Anyway, the hope is that you will be a fast learner and not afraid to get your hands dirty," said Henry.

"Sir, you will find me absolutely fearless," I said, and the man grinned.

"Well, good," he said.

Over the next weeks, I got to know about beer taps, ordering, cleaning-and that included toilets-and making drinks and pouring beer. Beer pouring was kind of an art as I discovered. The good news was that I was for sure a fast learner.

The even better news was that Angel and I got along very well indeed. She was overweight, but seriously cute regardless, and apart from the fact that I was certain that she was never going to be interested in half a man, we got to be pretty good friends; in fact, very good friends.

And then, a few weeks into my new job and overall situation I made my move.

"So, Wanna have dinner tonight?' I said, expecting a polite turn down. Angel gave me a strange look.

"Yeah, sure," she said. "But I mean if can you afford it. I know that boss of yours doesn't pay you much."

"No, but I've been saving up and so long as you order the special, I figure I can do it," I said.

"Well, okay then," said my boss. "Say, sevenish?"

"That's a big okayish," I said. And Angel Suarez and I were launched on our platonic romance. Well, that's the way I figured it to go.

"Yes, yes, helping him find a woman is a good idea if we can get him to even talk to us at all," said Blake.

"We could sandbag him at his work, now that we know where he works," said Ava.

"Yeah, that's a helluva good idea, not," he said.

"There has to be a way. The man is ultimately lonely. We know that. That is the one certitude in the mix. And, yes, I know that means especially because he has no woman. I mean you heard what he said," she said.

"And there's the kids. I guess what I'm saying is that if we could somehow get him to accept his unclehood, that we could also maybe nudge him to start looking around for a mate of his own too," she said. She misinterpreted the look on the man's face across from her.

"I don't know. A woman…? That's a long shot for him with the HIV thing," he said.

"No, it's not. Lots of men with HIV and women too have lives that are normal or nearly so. Yes, there is an element of care that needs to be considered, but it is not the impossible dream. It's not," said Ava.

"I wish I could say that I agree with you, Ava, but, well, I don't know. I'm not real sanguine about our chances there. The kids yes, maybe that, but a woman… " he said.

"Blake, the one thing I know for sure is that all men need a woman, one hundred percent of them. Again, you heard what he said, and how he said it. Even gay guys need a partner who's feminine. And the one thing I am sure of is that our man is not gay in spite of his experiences in prison. Desperate in spades, yes, but not gay or against the idea of hooking up with a humanoid with wide hips and that wears skirts," she said.

Blake Willis knew to quit arguing when his wife was on a roll. And this was one of those times.

He dared not tell her the untellable, but he did have to figure out a way for the man to join the family-voluntarily-and be happy in that reality. And, if it did turn out, some way somehow, that the man found a woman who could deal with his disabilities; well, that would be proof positive that there was indeed a caring deity in the heavens, yes, that for damn sure!

"So, the focus, the short-term focus, would be to find a way to get the man to want to meet the children, especially the eldest of them, oh yes, Candace would be the biggee in that attempt, that also for sure.

The Outback wasn't exactly the Fontainebleau, but it was a very respectable restaurant and bistro. The prices were mid-range and not quite out of my range. We'd been seated and were perusing the outsized menus.

The waiter arrived and asked if we were ready; we were.

"Yes, and some of that great black bread first," I said. We ordered: sirloin plates. The man nodded, smiled, and was off on his mission. A half minute later, a lady enquired as to drinks. The martinis were on their way a half minute after that.

"So, who gets to go first?" I said.

"Go first?" said Angel.

"Yeah, who gets to tell their life story first. I mean this is a first date," I said.

"Oh, yes," she said. "Well, I'll go first, since mine is pretty simple."

"Okay," I said.

"Well, I was born here. Graduated from Mohave High School. Got set up in the bar by my sister-she lives in Minnesota. I've never been married. Date occasionally. Don't smoke, but drink a little; well, we did just order matching martinis. I'm a Republican, I attend the Salvation Army church, that more or less irregularly; well, it's close by. And well, that's about it," she said.

"Wow, I guess I know all about you now," I said.

"Hmm," she said.

"Well, in my case. Grew up in Phoenix. Went to West Phoenix High. Never been married. Never smoked, but I also drink a little. Spent twenty plus years in prison. Vote Independent on the rare occasion that I do vote. Don't go to church, but I'm open to the possibility. Got some health issues that I'd rather not get into, but you're safe in that regard. And I work in a bar." I said.

"Okay, Prison? And health issues? I've got that too: I mean the health issues part. I've been diagnosed with Cancer, cervical cancer, but so far it's looking good.

"But prison? You didn't mention that when we hired you on?" she said.

"It's a long story that I'd rather not bore you with," I said, "really."

"Okay, since you outed yourself; we're cool," she said, though I did get a look. I sighed; it was time to out myself some more-well, partly.

"I need to tell you; I'm HIV positive, but also under control," I said. "I was raped a lot inside."

"Jesus, we are a pair," she said.

"Wanna dump me now, I mean after all I just said?" I said.

"No, not if you are willing to do this stuff platonically," she said. "Doing the big thing is a problem for me too. Okay?" she said.

"No, no, not a problem for me. I mean the platonic thing. I'm kinda afraid to do the big thing, as you call it, too," I said. She was smiling broadly. That made me smile broadly. I began to think that I might have lucked into something that suited my weird-ass situation.

We ate, we drank a little too much, and we went home. Me to my cubby at the bar and her to her home after she dropped me off. I would consider August 11th of 1994, the night of our first date, as a high-water mark in my life ever after.

I began to think that even if Angel dumped me down the line, or, more likely if we just didn't work out for some reason, that I actually might be able to entice some woman to be my significant other. Yes, indeed, there was hope even for a loser like me.

Chapter 16

He hadn't actually lied to his wife. And, he hadn't tipped his brother that he knew anything about his dicklessness or HIV either. As per the man's dicklessness situation, apart for himself and Jacob Paskin, no one knew anything who was not part of the prison scene, a scene that was now hopefully in the review mirror, and that for everyone concerned.

Blake Willis knew that his brother would never be completely over what had happened to him. How could he be. There was no way.

They hadn't gotten to the subject of money in the meet up with his brother. He knew that the man had doubtless read his letter offering him ten million dollars and a house and a couple of cars-his choice as to models-but Julian had clearly not been tempted by the offer even as generous as it did seem to himself and to Ava.

He heard his wife coming in through the main patio sliding door.

"Done watering your pet plant?" said Blake. She snickered.

"Yes, in this weather it's important to see that it gets the proper care," said Ava.

"Hmm. Yes, and that goes for certain individuals, who shall remain nameless, as well," he said.

"Yes. I cannot believe that he wouldn't even let us bring up the subject of helping him, especially financially," she said

"His bitterness is going to take a long time to fade. I'm sure of that," said Blake.

"There's still the one wild card left in the deck," she said. "It might be time to consider playing it."

"Maybe, but I'm not sure we could get him to even sit down with us long enough to hear us out," he said.

"There has to be a way. How about getting Bea to try and run interference for us again?" said Ava.

"A possibility, but I don't want to burden her too much about all of this even if she is willing," he said.

"Still, the children, and I do mean all of them, might be the way to go. And Candace being the wild card that could put us over the top with the man," she said.

"Yes, and we will play that card down the line; but I do not want to burn it without it being a sure thing, or pretty damn close to being a sure thing. The situation has to be right. And she will have to be in the know about pretty much everything if and when we do decide to go that way. I mean introduce the two of them.

"No, we gotta think this thing through, and I mean in depth, before we do anything, anticipate his reaction to the announcement and be able to control things to the extent possible," he said.

"Okay, I agree.

"Do we have anything more on his health and such? I mean since Jacob laid what he laid on us?" she said.

"No, nothing new. But it is something we need to keep in mind when approaching him; I mean when we do," he said. His look was something, she thought, but she could not have said what at that moment.

Ava Willis was feeling good, but she did have three children and she was female and she did have a doctor's appointment, at the Hereford Health Clinic in downtown Phoenix, and she had it today.

The traffic wasn't too bad. She had thought it might be, and her husband had all but forbidden her to drive all the way down to Phoenix alone. But, in the end he had relented.

The doctor's appointment, the usual once per year physical that Blake insisted on, and that she did not object to, was at the least a chance to go down to the big city and do a few other things that she had determined on, and would in fact do.

Today's trip had a somewhat more urgent motive than on most other trips south. She would be trying to check up on the man who was not interested in being checked up on, not now, not ever; or so he had said. But the clinic first.

Checking into the clinic, she knew she had been prioritized; she always was; it was nice to be ultra-rich. She had been led immediately into the exam room and all of the usual measurements taken and the numbers and details recorded.

The medical checkup went well in the sense that Ava Willis was, well, well.

She rolled up in front of the old homestead where her used-to-be-man had allowed her to stay back in the day. The days back when they had graduated from high school and she was about to be on her own. She'd been afraid then, but Julian had come to her rescue, and for that matter so had Blake in his way as well. She had a key; she went inside.

Going from room to room, she noted that the place was indeed orderly and clean and stocked as it should have been were any of the family to need a place to hang their hats at some point. She wondered if her Julian, and he was still that, regardless of what he thought, had thought of staying there after he'd gotten out of prison. She had to think that maybe he had. Yes, he must've, she said aloud, but to herself. The grounds were also kept up as well; the gardeners came by weekly to do their thing as well as the housekeepers.

The family homestead was in good shape. And now to see if the quarter pounders were as good as they used to be.

McDonald's on 24th was busy. She ordered and took a booth seat against the window on the sunny side of the foodery. She had decided to see if any of the old crowd might show up; well, it was lunch time. The crew from Rock and Sand always used to hang out at Mac's at lunch and sometimes after work. Well, it was only three blocks from the shop. She chewed her sandwich slowly and sipped her early afternoon coffee while keeping an eye on the door the whole time.

The man came in and got in line, well, the place was still really busy.

John Bell, got his whatever and headed back into the place to find a table or booth. He stopped cold in his tracks at the sight of her.

"Yes, John, it's really me," said Ava.

"Ava, it's been forever," he said.

"Yes, more than twenty years I think," she said. "I mean since I've been in here. You look good. Still working at Rock and Sand?"

"Yeah, I heard you moved up to Laughlin," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Anyway, stop standing there and have a seat." He grimaced and did as she asked.

"Sorry, I was just surprised to see you," he said. "I mean since Julian…"

"Yes, since he went to prison," she said. "His brother and I, well, we did move to Laughlin, back in '82. A matter of business. I don't know if you know it, but Julian's out."

"Yes, I know. Hear he moved up to Bullhead. If you're in Laughlin you must have seen him. I mean… " he said. She at first looked surprised but gathered herself.

"Yes, we've seen him, but not recently, and not in Bullhead," she said.

"Oh?" he said.

"Yes, well when his brother and I… " she started.

"Oh, I see," he said.

"But you say he moved to Bullhead?" she said.

"Yes, well last I heard. Got a job up there, I think he's tending bar, not sure though. But it's what I heard," he said.

The conversation went on for some time. Done eating the two old acquaintances parted and went their separate ways.

Ava Willis had some things to talk over with Blake Willis. Dinner would be animated this particular evening.

"Okay, you went down there for a doctor's appointment. But you took the time to check out the old house. Then hung out at Mac's to see if you could see anything recognize anyone; and you did recognize a guy; I got all that right?" said Blake.

"Yes," said Ava, "John Bell is an old coworker of Julian's, like I said."

"And he said our man lives and works within a stone's throw, figuratively speaking, from where we are sitting right now," he said.

"A stone's throw? Probably and exaggeration, but close enough, yes," she said.

The man shook his head. "I guess that gives us the opportunity we've both been hoping for, and, fearing to find," he said.

"Yes," she said. "I mean I don't know what to do."

"Me either," he said. "Or, more accurately, I know exactly what we have to do, and it's going to be tough to do it regardless."

"And again, yes," she said. The man, her husband, sighed.

"And Candace?" he said.

"I don't know. If we tell her, he has to be told. A double whammy. If we don't, and he finds out that not only you and I, but her also, have kept his fatherhood from him, well… " she said. He nodded.

"Yes, you could not be more right," he said.

"So, Jacob, the man is working just five miles away?" said Blake.

"Yes, not even that far," said Jacob Paskin. "My man seems to be happy and making a life for himself, and maybe that with the owner of the bar he works at; well, one of the owners, Angel Suarez. Oh, and he actually lives in a room at the back of the bar." Blake nodded.

"Okay, I guess we know where to find the man then," he said. "Thanks a million for your help."

"You're welcome," he said.

God it was hot: the thermometer on the outside wall announced that it was115 degrees. The bad news was that it, the thermometer, had never been known to lie!

I was at lunch on the outside patio. I'd been hungry. My bean and cheese burrito hadn't lasted long: whatever the microwave hadn't done to it, I did. I sipped my ice tea and kinda mentally readied myself to go back to work. Angel had the bar under control for the moment.

I had the early shift today. Hank had seen to the things he had to do in the early morning, but would be returning later on, so I'd won the lottery and would be having the evening off. Oh joy. The bad news was that Angel and I would still be late going out. She'd be off at 5:00. But I was still in the docks until seven, eight if we got busy. The big guy would be coming back to close: 7:00pm to 1:00am come hell, high water, or the German army.

I was feeling melancholy. The bad guys wouldn't leave me alone and I was sure I was going to get some more nonsense from them and that sooner rather than later; I could feel it in my bones.

They didn't know I'd moved up here, but they would, and then I might be forced to move yet again: back to Phoenix or maybe someplace else. I'd deal with it when I had to but not before. The catch-22 in my thinking was my new woman, Angel Suarez; she couldn't move because of the business. Shit, it might be the case that in the end, I might actually be trapped. Fuck!

In spite of the heat, I hung out for a few more. I really was just an old desert rat. The heat at 115 was a challenge but for me, well, it was a good thing. Sure as hell beat the freezing nights in the cages that I'd called home for so many years. Yes indeed. Give me the desert heat; you can keep the cold, especially the behind bars variety.

Chapter 17

I headed back in. I was sure Angel could use a break.

There were three other people inside. One of them I knew' I knew real well!

I signaled Angel that I was taking over.

"So, they know I'm up here," I said. The man shrugged.

"Yes," said Jacob Paskin. I guess I was done worrying as to whether or not he was going to be mentioning the names of the bad guys.

"Wonderful," I said. "They planning on leaving me alone, or is that too much to hope for."

"Way too much to hope for," he said. I nodded.

"Figures," I said. "So, why are you here? I mean this is way below your usual kind of drinkery or eatery either one." He snickered.

"No good reason actually. I heard you were working over here. And yes, I heard it from your brother, and decided to check it out, the place. Evidently your ex-fiancée discovered you were up here on a trip she took down to Phoenix," he said.

"So, it was Ava?" I said.

"Yes. She was down in Phoenix and was interested in finding out where you might be hanging your hat. She bumped into some guy you used to work with," said Jacob.

Something suddenly occurred to me. "Mister Paskin, can I ask you a question?" I said.

"Of course," he said.

"When I got out. I sealed my records. Has the man tried to get into them? And did you help him do so, or one of your guys?" I said.

"Three parts to your question, well, the answers," he said.

"Okay," I said.

"One, he does know. Two, he has told no one, not even his wife; well, as far as I know. And three, yes it was my guy who was able to get the info," he said. "Your brother is worried about you." I nodded.

"No, he's not. He feels guilty and I don't give a damn. I know I can't do anything about you telling him about that stuff, but I want you to know it really hurts that you did. I have always trusted you. I don't anymore," I said. "But I do respect the fact that you told me the truth. I do respect you for that."

"Julian, I'm sorry you feel the way you do. But I assure you, everything I've done relating to you has been in your best interest, even when you didn't want me to. I care about you. And, again, so does your brother and his wife," he said.

I gave him a so what look and walked down the bar abandoning him.

Angel Suarez was melancholy. "Yes, I have to go to Phoenix yet again. The doctor says they have found something that needs taking care of," she said.

"Oh my," I said.

"Yes, You and Hank will have to carry the load until I get back. Okay?" she said. She seemed about to cry. I was worried. She was supposed to be clean of the cancer.

"Sure, sure," I said. "We'll handle it. Just come back soon, and keep us in the loop. Okay?" I said.

"Yes, for sure," she said.

"We need to find a part time tender, at least one," said Hank. "Just to fill in until Angel gets back." I nodded.

"Yes, I know. I'm just so worried about her," I said.

"Yes, me too," he said. "There's a gal working down at the Poor Boy. I know she's looking for a better gig. She's part time there, so…"

"Okay?" I said.

"Her name's Leona. I'm going to check her out," said Hank.

"Okay, but how long do you think Angel will be out. I asked her, but she didn't sound too optimistic," I said.

"Don't know. But I think she is really sick," he said.

"Let's hire that girl you're talking about. I need to go down there and check out things. That okay, by you?" I said.

"Yes, of course. I'll talk to Leona at the Poor Boy tonight," he said.

"Okay," I said. With me heading down to Phoenix, Hank was still going to be short-handed, even with this Leona, but, under the circumstances, well…

Arriving at the hotel, that the Cancer Society had lodged her at, took some hours, but the place was nice. It was noon time and she was at the AU Dignity Center just down the street. I'd gotten that info because I'd gone there first. I decided to wait in the hotel lobby rather than the lobby of the Center because of the long wait I'd been apprised would be the case. And it did turn out to be long: three hours' worth. I saw her get dropped off at the entrance and be semi-escorted in; the man wished her goodbye, and she headed for the elevator; I intercepted her.

"Julian? You abandoned Hank?" she said.

"No, no, we hired a temp to cover. I could not leave you alone down here. You worry me," I said. "Gonna invite me up to your room?" I was smiling.

She sighed. "Come on," she said.

Inside the room, she sat me down and made us tea, not coffee, but tea. Now I was worried big time.

Over the next hours I got the whole story and she didn't leave anything out, and I almost wished she had.

"So, that's it," I said, actually whispered.

"Yes, a few months at best," she said. We were sitting on the couch and I was holding her.

"We're doing this together," I said. "Does your sister in Minnesota know?"

"No," she said. "I'm not in a hurry to tell her either. A bit further down the line maybe." I nodded.

I didn't say that I wouldn't have wanted a lot of attention at a time like this either. The good news, and it was good news to my mind, was the truth that she was good with me being with her. I was grateful for that, very grateful.

I'd come down on the bus. Now, I'd be doing the driving on the way back.

"So, about this Leona woman?" she said, as we progressed up the road.

"Haven't met her, but Henry has, and he says she's reliable and looking for a change of venue. He was able to get her to help out until we knew more about your situation," I said.

"So, if he can get her on full time… " she said. "I mean I won't be much good in the store anymore." I nodded.

"Okay," I said. "We'll work it out."

"Thank you for everything," she said.

"Angel, I'm here for you. I wanna move in with you. Would that be all right?" I said. "I care for you. So does Henry. You can use me to get things off the top shelf and stuff, Okay?" She smirked.

"Okay," she said.

I'd spent a bit more than twenty-two years behind bars, and now I'd been out a bit more than a year and my hope for a life, a good life was being ripped from me. And, yes, I know how selfish that sounds. But my woman was dying and all I could do was kinda hold her hand until she left me. Some people had all of the luck, like me for instance, but in my case, it was all bad, very bad.

And then it was May 31st 1995 and my baby died and I felt like dying too; I really did. But I didn't die.

I hadn't seen the bad guys in almost a year and a half, and that in Phoenix. I knew they lived nearby. I didn't know exactly where, but it was across the river and in Nevada, I had been so hoping I was proof against them finding me, or really, even looking to find me. But Jacob had assured me that they had. Shit!

They didn't have anything I wanted or needed. Still, I was beginning to believe that they understood that and were avoiding me on purpose. At any rate, I was hoping.

"But life goes on, and now there were three of us again running the bar. Angel's sister had come to Arizona for the funeral, she'd actually paid for it. She was a partner in the business now having inherited Angel's share. But she was leaving the running of the place to Henry and really me, though I was still technically just an employee. And yes, she did know I was an ex-con.

Leona, Leona Jensen, was knowledgeable and reliable. We got along good, and the three of us were enough. Leona for her part was glad to be full time which she was now. She'd been having a tough time working for two bars part time, us and the Poor Boy. At any rate, for my part, I was getting along okay. I guess I could claim to have been more or less content if still singularly lonely.

I hated the loneliness. I'd hated it in prison and I hated it now. But, for all of that it seemed to be my lot in life and there was nothing I could think of that was going to change that reality. But again, I was okay: I was eating regular, my bed was warm at night, and my head was filled with happy memories of my time with the wonderful Angel Suarez instead of the treacherous Ava Willis, nee Gardner. Yeah things could've been worse.

And I had finally gotten me a new apartment. The Dust Devil Apartments room 209 was small, cheap, and close to work. No more back room living. I guess I was moving up to actual lower middle-class status.

The twins were making a lot of racket in the broad back yard area. "Jules and Juliana seem to be having a ton of fun," said Blake.

"Hmm, yes," said Ava. "I hope that someday they'll meet their uncle and that he'll be glad to meet them. I don't know how anyone couldn't love the two of them."

"You have a good point there," he said. "Getting him to loosen up a bit would be the first step and I'll be damned if I can think of how to achieve that seeming impossible task."

"Yes, the impossible dream," she said.

"Well, we know where he is now. I have to say it was nice of him to move up here. He knew we were in Laughlin. I have to believe that deep down he, even subconsciously perhaps, wants to be around us if not actually dealing with us as family," he said.

"Wishful thinking I'm afraid, but maybe," she said.

"Yes," he said. "Soon."

"Soon?" she said.

"You know. We've talked about it enough. We have to have another go at him with Candace maybe introducing herself to him," he said.

"We haven't even sat Candace down about it all. Frankly I'm terrified about that part of the plan," she said. The man nodded.

"Yeah, me too, but it must be done and the time is upon us. We just can't wait much longer. Look, she's an adult and a smart one. She'll understand. Yes, it's a risk, but I think a small one in her case. Still, we do have to handle things right," he said. "We above all have to be up front with her. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

"The bad day?" she said.

"No, that would definitely be a bridge to far. But as far as her birth and your relationship with the man. Yes, all of that," he said. "We have to give him all of the credit and build up we can without outing him and us per the bad day. If anyone ever does that it has to be him, period."

"Yes, okay, I get it and the one thing I am absolutely certain of is that he would agree with you, vehemently agree with you. It's who the man is."

"Yes," he said, "for sure yes."

"You know, Mister Assistant Manager, you and I have never talked. But I have heard, well, that you were inside for a while," said Leona. "Me too." I gave her a look, a look of surprise. Surprised that she'd heard about me, and surprised that I hadn't heard about her.

"Oh," I said.

"Yes, eighteen months, for assault. He was bigger, but I had a brass candlestick holder. He lost," she said.

"So, I guess it would be best not to make you mad. Is that the message here?" I said. She snickered.

"No comment," she said. My turn to snicker.

"Hmm," I said.

"Can I ask, your woman leave you when you were inside? I assume you were married or at least involved at the time," she said. I shrugged.

Hearing her, I realized, Leona knew little about me that wasn't job related. The reality of that kind of amused me. That she knew I was a con, well, that didn't fit-weird.

"You could say that," I said. "Yeah, she dumped me. And since you will likely hear about it at some time in the natural evolution of things; she married my brother. Kinda stung if you know what I mean. But no kids of hers and mine, so I guess that that's an upside, right?"

"Jesus, that is a wrinkle," she said, "one with knots! I mean your brother!"

"Yeah," I said.

Chapter 18

"Well, okay, I'll go get her and bring her down here," said Ava. The man across from her sighed.

"Okay," said Blake. "It's time. Go ahead. Get her." Ava nodded, turned, and headed for the stairs.

"Blake Willis, went to the wet bar thirty feet across the floor from him. Arriving, he changed his mind and went back to the table he'd journeyed from and retook his seat. He waited, impatiently waited.

"Candace, your daddy and I have something to talk to you about," said Ava. Candace's door was wide open. Her mother entered to say what she said.

"I have a test, Mom," she said, nodding toward the books and papers spread out on the desk in front of where she was sitting.

"Candace this can't wait. You can finish up studying later," said Ava.

"Mom?" said Candace.

"Come down, Candace, your dad is waiting in the library," said Ava.

"Mom… okay," said Candace, reacting to her mom's imperative tone. She rose and followed the mistress of the house down to the second floor of the three-story mansion.

The two women entered and noticed the man of the house tapping impatiently on the table's top.

"Daddy?" said a now concerned Candace.

"Have a seat baby," said her daddy. Candace did so. Ava followed suit.

"Thank you," said Blake Willis. He nodded for Ava to take the lead.

"Candace, your daddy," she nodded toward her husband, "is…"

"I know Mom, Dad is a great guy," said Candace, smiling, and interrupting her mother.

"Yes, but that is not what I was going to say," said Ava.

"Okay," said Candace.

"Candace, there is a man, a man you have never met, a great man, who saved me back in the day. Before you were actually born. Well, and that man is actually your biological father," said Ava.

The look on the face of the twenty-two-year-old female was truly remarkable, almost comical except the moment was not funny, not at all; it was dead-mortal-lead-pipe serious.

"Huh?" said Candace.

"His name is Julian Willis," said Blake. "He's my brother."

"The man you said that the twins were named after?" said Candace.

"Yes," said Blake. "That's so."

"But you're… " said Candace.

"Your uncle," said Blake. "Well, sort of. As far as I'm concerned, you're my daughter too."

"Daddy… " said Candace.

"Candace, nothing needs to change in any big way. But… you are about to meet the man, that great man," he said.

"Candace, he does not know about you. The reasons are so complex that trying to tell you everything in one go is going to be a real challenge, but that's why you are sitting where you are right now. I need you to hold all of your questions, comments, thoughts what all until we are through laying things out for you here, now. Can you do that for me, us," said Ava. The young Willis girl nodded, slowly.

"I guess," said Candace. "But meet the man…?"

"Yes, soon, very soon," said Ava. "Candace, some of what you are about to hear you already know, have heard about over the years-the naming of the twins-but it's all so interconnected that you will be hearing some of it again."

There was a long pause. Everyone seemed confused about who should speak next. It turned out to be Ava.

"Candace a thousand years ago. I was eighteen and had just graduated high school.

"I was a foster child and so, because of my age, I had to leave my foster parents place and get out amongst them; well, I was a technical adult.

"Down the street, your daddy's brother and their parents lived in a regular ranch style house, a style popular at the time.

"Julian, your bio-dad, lived there with his mom and dad. Blake your dad here, was older and already out and on his own. At any rate, the parents of your dad here and Julian were killed in an auto accident.

"Anyway, like I said, I needed to get me a place and a job, and well, be an adult. I got lucky. Julian took me in and took care of me. We became close, eventually got engaged, and were planning to marry. But there was a fly in the ointment, Dante Rodriguez," she said.

"Huh? A fly… " started Candace.

"Okay, I was young and I was fat. I needed to lose weight or thought that I did. Dante gave me drugs that fixed my weight problem, but then he became the problem. I couldn't pay for the drugs that he gave me, so I paid by letting him have me. Eventually I broke it off with him, or tried to, but he wasn't having any of that.

"Julian came to my rescue, but in the doing of it, Dante was killed and Julian was convicted of second-degree murder. He spent twenty-two years in prison for a crime that was my fault. When he went inside, I had promised to wait for him. But I fell in love with your dad here, and well essentially betrayed him, Julian.

"We eventually outed ourselves to him, that while he was still in prison; told him that your daddy and I were married, but I never told him that the last night we were together, and the one and only night that he and I were intimate, that I had conceived you. He still doesn't know that part. Hence, we have a big problem," she said.

"Jesus!" said Candace.

"Candace, I'm as much at fault as your mother in this. It was me who put a move on her after my brother had been inside for only a couple of years. We married and kept the secret of the marriage for seven more years so as not to hurt Julian. But after that length of time we realized that we just could not keep the secret any longer. So, like your mom said, we outed ourselves to him.

"Anyway, your mom and I have tried to make things right by the man, but he hates us. I don't blame him, but somehow, some way, we need to try again to fix things with the man. We're hoping," he nodded in the direction of his wife, "that introducing him to you might be a first step in making things right by him," said Blake.

"Or make things worse," butted in Candace. "It's going to make things worse for sure."

"I won't kid you," said Blake. "Things could go that way. But, if we engineer things rightly, here, well, maybe… soon."

"Oh boy," said Candace shaking her head.

"The big question, Candace, is can we count on you to help us out here," said Ava. Her daughter was nodding, but it was a nervous nodding.

"Okay. I guess. But… " she said.

"Yes, and you can double that for me," said Ava.

The conversation and the planning went on for another two hours. The plan for Operation Julian was launched. The focus would be on getting the man to want to have a major relationship with his daughter no matter what. If that could be made to happen, then, well then…

It was nigh on twenty-seven years ago now that it all started, at that senior prom. I was supposed to go to the prom with Marian Randall, but she fucked me over and dumped me without even telling me. But, no matter, right? Her daddy advised me to just go and find some other nice young thing to be my arm candy. And, lucky sonovabitch that I was, I ended up with Ava Gardner, overweight, but cute in spite of it even then. Of course, she'd fucked me over and dumped me too, and not just with some other version of William Carton, the one Marian Randall traded me in for. Oh no, she'd dumped me for my fucking brother!

Still there is a little thing called serendipity that for some reason catches up with us all at some point in our singularly illustrious careers. And now it had caught up with me. She was older, slimmer, though she was slim back in the day too, but it was her. It was Marian Randall or whatever her last name was now. I couldn't believe it.

Did I really need the bread, eggs, and peanut butter I was in the store to get! She hadn't seen me. I could escape. But hell, I'd survived two decades in prison. What could Marian Randall do to me? Rape me? Hah! I could only wish! I came up on her blindside; it was the bread aisle.

"And you had to come this far up the street to find a date? Oh, how the meanest have fallen," I said. Her head snapped around so fast that I thought she might be needing a neck brace.

"Julian! You're out!" she said.

"Yeah for a year now, closer to two. Sometimes even a guy like me can catch a break. And, yes, you can congratulate me," I said.

"My God, well congratulations," she said. "But you're up here too. I mean how… " she started.

"Long story, but I work up here," I said. "You?"

"Also, a long story, but mainly to escape a bad ex-husband," she said.

"Carton?" I said. I was fishing.

"As a matter of fact, yes," she said.

"Oh my, how the world turns," I said.

"You can take me to dinner if you're hard up enough. I ain't got no job, damn little money, and frankly I'm desperate," she said. "I was in here today looking to get my ass hired."

"Yeah, sure, I'll help you stave off starvation for one more day," I said. "No promises for more than that."

"Okay," she said.

"Good," I said, "let's go."

"So, your husband dumped you?" I said. "Kind of surprising. I mean last I heard, you were the dumper. I know because I was the dumpee." I said.

"I tried to apologize that very night," she said.

"Too little too late at the time," I said. The waitress came and took our orders. I did the ordering.

"Steaks?" she said. "I'm surprised. I figured burgers would have been it. But steaks."

"Must be true love," I said. "Unrequited true love."

"Yeah right, like that's the truth," she said.

"So anyway, what was the deal with you and your asshole husband?" I said.

"Well, and he is an asshole; the reason for the dumping was my operation," she said. I might as well get it out there in case you were looking for more than dinner with pretty me."

"Operation?" I said.

"Yeah, I'm only half a woman anymore. They cut off my breasts, both of them. It was either that or I was destined to die. I mean sooner than need be," she said, "breast cancer."

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry. Lost my second love to cervical cancer six months ago. It was bad. So anyway, how are you doing now?"

"According to the doctors, good," she said. I nodded.

"No kids?" I said.

"No, no kids, and given who I was married to, it's for the best," she said. "You?"

"No, me neither," I said. "When my first love dumped me, I mean while I was inside, she did real good. Got three kids with my brother, including a set of twins. I ain't met 'em, but the assholes named 'em after me, the twins; got that in a letter while I was inside. I thought that was super nice: Jules and Juliana." I was clearly being snide with my remarks.

"I take it the 'super nice' bit is tongue in cheek," she said.

"You take it right. I don't want anything to do with any of them," I said.

"Wow?" she said.

"Yeah, the truth is they don't live that far from here, just across the river, somewhere in Laughlin," I said. "I mean not far, but a different state."

"That's funny. I knew that your brother had money. Well he did back in the day. And he couldn't find you," she said.

"He did, they did, but I was in Phoenix at the time; read easy to find. The asshole offered me some money, but it was mere tokenism. I told him, and her, to stick it," I said. "They considered me ungrateful. Truth is, I guess, that in reality I am ungrateful. I was dumped by her and stabbed in the back by him. Gratitude is not exactly part of my mind set."

"Whoa, horsey! You sound bitter as hell. Hope that isn't contagious," she said. I shrugged.

"Not that I know of. Anyway, you say you're hard up tonight and need a job?" I said.

"Yes, to both things," she said.

"Well, I think I can help you out with those. I'll front you the gelt for the room for a couple of weeks and you can show up tomorrow at the Sand Bar and begin learning the bartending trade. We could use another hand. I mean if that all sounds okay to you," I said.

"Try wonderful," she said.

"Okay then it's a done deal," I said. "Like I say we need an extra hand there, it's only been the three of us, and we've been looking for a little help, as I said."

Chapter 19

She could not believe her eyes. In fact, she was certain that she'd be put into therapy if she related what she saw to anyone. But there they were: Marian Randall and Julian Willis, together! To approach or not to approach them that was the question! Oh yeah, for sure it was one helluva question. She made the decision. She'd be talking to Ava first. Oh yeah! Ava had to be first.

"You saw who? You saw them where?" said Ava.

"I know. I couldn't believe it either. I still can't believe it. Shades of high school," said Bea. "And it was at the Blue Boar."

"High school hell! Shades of the senior prom," said Ava. "And the Blue Boar."

"Hmm, yes, now that you mention it," said Bea. Ava Willis felt herself momentarily transported back to that May night in 1968 when arguably all of their lives were changed forever.

"If you saw them together up here, well in Bullhead, then they might be living together. I did find out, not long ago, that he was up here across the river; but her too? We, Blake and I, did talk to the man, in Phoenix. But he didn't want to talk to us, not at all. We didn't push it at the time. Though we did happen to mention that we had moved to Laughlin. And now I wonder if he maybe did move up here to be near us," said Ava. "Actually, Blake did say that he thought that that might be a long shot possibility."

"You thinking of maybe contacting him?" said Bea.

"We have been thinking about it, actually planning on it; and introducing him to his daughter too, but…"

"I'll be talking to Blake tonight," she said. "I guess we'll just have to see, but we're not rushing into anything without knowing more."

"Maybe talk to Marian before the man," offered Bea. Her friend was nodding, tentatively nodding.

"A distinct possibility," said Ava. "But first will be Blake."

"I'm not going to ask if there is any possibility that Bea is mistaken. It's clear that there is not any such possibility. I will be talking to Jacob today. I hate the idea that we are actually planning on spying on the man, and that is what we are planning to do here, exactly what we are planning to do. That said, the idea that he might have moved up here if only subconsciously to be near us is making more and more sense, at least to me," said Blake. And I mean with our plan to introduce him…"

"Yes, to Candace, and yes I hope we're right," said Ava. "But something else Bea said might be worth considering."

"Yes?" he said.

"That we talk to Marian first. See if there is anything there that we might be able to use to leverage the man to lighten up," she said.

"Okay… yes, okay. Still, I would be a little concerned that if she is on his side that we might end up shooting ourselves in the foot. Still, maybe… " he said. His wife smiled.

"Marian isn't Julian. He might not want the money, but her?" she said. It was Blake's turn to smile.

"I see what you mean. Yes, we have to be careful. If she just up and suggests to him, however obliquely, that we have rewarded her in advance for being good to him, as unlikely as something like that might be, we might still end up shooting ourselves in the foot," he said.

"Enough money would make us proof against that, at least with her," she said.

"Still… " he said.

"We just have to be careful. She has to know that all we want to do is help the man. That's what would make us proof against the wrong kind of exposure, not just the money per se," she said.

"Okay then, Jacob does some research per Marian first. For the moment Julian is on the back burner," he said.

"Who?" said Jacob Paskin esquire.

"Marian Randall, but she likely has a married name, not sure about that. Randall was her maiden name. She went to high school with Ava, Bea and Julian too back in the day. They've got history. Ava, says that at one-point Marian and Julian had been an item; I mean in high school," said Blake. Jacob was nodding.

"I see," he said. "Okay, I'll have my man on it before the day is out. And I am right in assuming that Julian is not supposed to be in the know about any of this, right?"

"Yes, you have that right," said Blake.

"And the woman, this Marian, is not to know either, I have that right too, right?" he said.

"Right again," said Blake.

"Okay, we're on it. Should be only a couple of days," he said.

The two conspirators shook hands. The game was afoot.

Regis Gallant, and that actually was his name, was content. Content because sometimes the work was easy, most of the time it took time and he usually had to find the time in his busy week to get the info he needed to make his boss, Jacob Paskin, happy. But today was a good day. He knew where the man worked; hence, it was a good bet that the woman would be hanging around said workplace. Well, he'd been wrong about that. She hadn't been hanging around the place; she was working at the place. The man had gotten her a job there, at the Sand Bar.

The IPA he was sipping tasted good. And the woman had served him herself. She was a cute thing. He knew it was her because he had a picture from a high school year book; it was twenty-five years old, but there was no doubt that it was her, none.

"Another one of those?" said Marian, to the tall handsome stranger. The man smiled.

"Yes indeed," said Regis. She had an engaging voice and smile, he thought.

She headed down to the other end of the bar to the supply of IPA. She returned and delivered it to the man.

"You're new here," he said. He was fishing.

"Yes, a friend got me the job. Been on duty for the last month," she said, trying to make idle conversation: it's how one was usually able to increase the size of the gratuity.

"I thought so," he said. Marian Carton wandered off down the bar to answer a waving arm.

"A nice-looking gal, kinda slim, long hair, and apparently liking her new job, which I was able to find out she'd gotten as a result of the recommendation of her friend, our main man," said Regis.

"Okay," said Jacob Paskin. "So, the main man wasn't there?"

"No, his shift had been earlier or we might have caught them together, but well, I didn't," he said.

"Okay, well, good. At least we know where we're going now. I will relate the data to the client," he said. His investigator, nodded and fled to his next assignment; he always had them.

"And so now we go to phase two," said Blake, voicing his feelings relating to the information that his lawyer's investigator had managed to collect.

"Yes," said Ava. "So, you? Me? Both of us?"

"Good question. You know her from high school. At most she knows of me as Julian's brother. He's likely told her about his time inside and the sanitized reason for him having gone there," he said.

"Yes, yes," she said. "But, she knows, undoubtedly knows, that you're the decision maker and the money man in all of this. I think it has to be you. I can meet with her after the fact if necessary, but initially… " He was nodding.

"Okay, I see your point. Okay then, it's me," he said. "He works the early shift; she evidently works swing doubling up with one of the others who closes. I'll make sure he's off for this first go at her."

"Yes," she said.

"I love my job," said Marian.

"I love it that you love it," I said. "Look, today is the second Sunday of the month; we both have it off. Let's go out. Whaddya say?"

"Sounds like a plan," she said.

Hardy's Bar and Grill was not excessively expensive nor especially good, but it was okay and it was close to the apartment where I was currently living, and for that matter Marian's too; and no, not the same apartment, but close by.

"So, when are you going to make a move on me?" she said, and she giggled like little girl giggled when they know they've said the unsayable.

"I'm a gentleman," I said, trying weakly to change the subject.

"You're too old to be a gentleman, and after years in prison you gotta be super horny." I decided to out myself, well, partially.

"I can't, Marian. I'm HIV positive. Well, I mean prison is not a nice place," I said. I'd finally stopped her. She nodded.

"Oh," she said. "But we could still do a few things. I mean if you're into a little high school love making.

"Huh?" I said. I didn't know if she was thinking the same thing I was thinking, but if she meant with our clothes still on, some touchy feely might be an all right thing to do, to chance doing, I thought. "Okay, I guess we can go back in time a little," I said.

"Yes, we can indeed do that," she said. "Yes indeed; we can do a little research. You know what they say, 'petting is just the study of anatomy by Braille'."

"Funny," I said, and it was funny.

That night we kissed our lips raw and it was very, very good for me. I think it was for her too. I played with her pussy and she played with my balls and didn't seem to notice the missing hard on. I guess she figured that that was a matter of the drugs I was taking interfering with the process. Oh, and the clothes did stay on.

"So, I know you guys are checking out our man. Anything new?" said Bea.

"Yes, and no. Or, more accurately, we have some things, ideas in the works, but we haven't quite put them into concrete action yet," said Ava.

"Oh?" said Bea.

"Yes, Julian has some major downsides, physically. We want to see if Marian is first, interested in him, you know, that way. Or second, if she isn't, or isn't yet, if we can get her to be interested," said Ava.

"Okay?" said Bea.

"Julian won't let us help him out, not with money, not with anything. But maybe Marian can be persuaded to maybe get him to change his mind. I mean to let us help him out." She said.

"Okay, but how could Marian be of any help with that? I mean she knows him and he her. But her asking him to join the clan doesn't seem like anything that he'd be willing to listen to," said Bea.

"Well, if he could be convinced that us helping her would be okay, maybe he would lighten up on us a bit. I mean you know, if we helped her out," she said.

"You help Marian?" said Bea.

"Yes, we've been able to find out that she's in tough health-wise like Julian, and financially desperate, even though Julian has been able to get her a job working in the same bar that he does," said Ava.

"And, you can help with her health thing?" said Bea, "and of course, obviously financially. That about it?"

"Yes," said Ava.

"So, the best doctors and money?" said Bea.

"Yes," said Ava.

"I can see the medical thing being a winner, but if you hand the woman money, any significant amount of money, and Julian found out about it, well… " she said.

"The money would be enough but not anything way out of line. It would be a way for her to be safe financially and at the same time maybe get her on our side in the effort to have that wonderful man join the family," said Ava.

"How much is not 'way out of line'," said Bea.

"We haven't actually decided, but maybe half a million," said Ava. "But with no strings, so she wouldn't see it as an outright bribe or him either."

"Not a bribe? It's how I see it let alone her or for sure him," said Bea, trying to not be too argumentative.

"We know it's a risk, but we have to do something," said Ava.

"Have you even talked to Marian yet. I mean you know her. I know her, Julian for sure knows her. They were an item a thousand years ago," said Bea.

"The deal is, Julian is a convict. He is HIV positive. He is essentially broke in spite of the job he has at that bar. Marian and him together would make things a lot easier on the both of them. If he can be made to appreciate that; well… " said Ava.

"I don't know, Ava, I think you run the risk of really pissing the man off and maybe even driving a wedge between him and Marian if you give her that kind of money and she accepts it," said Bea.

"Well, I know it's a risk, as I said, but it looks to us as one that has more upside than downside. But we are still only considering it," said Ava. Her friend was nodding, but it was a doubtful nodding.

Chapter 20

"A very nice day," said Marian. "So, this is Turtle Park?"

"Yes, to both things. But it is going to heat up some, over a hundred is the prediction," I said.

"I don't care; I like the heat," she said.

"Me too, I'm an old desert rat from way back when," I said. "I used to dream about the heat when I was in prison; it was always so cold in there. Part of our punishment, I guess."

"Hmm," she said.

I noticed a small group of young people: a couple of kindergartners or maybe first graders and an older girl. Siblings, I supposed. I had a thought, a random thought.

"Marian, see those kids over there?" I said. She looked to where I was nodding.

"Yes, the teenager and the little kids?" she said.

"Yes, the teenager, how old do you think?" I said.

"I don't know, maybe eighteen or twenty. Could be a single mom I guess," she said.

"Yeah maybe," I said. But I was beginning to put two and two together. It would be one hell of a coincidence, but I was becoming surer and surer that I was seeing the bad guys' kids for the first time. Did I care? I actually was beginning to think that I did! The two little ones were twins!

I passed the keys to close up the bar to Marian. I'd be back to pick her up in my new-old pickup from work at 1:00am I drove off and headed home for a nap and a little TV: The Diamondbacks were playing The Dodgers in California.

Marian and I were doing good. We played a little at her place when I took her home, usually had a cup of tea, she was a tea drinker, and then I'd head home and cook me something simple before going to bed.

It was Saturday, June 23rd, '95. It had been a year since I'd last seen the bad guys in Phoenix. Did I still hate them? Good question. I think it would have been a better question to ask if I gave a damn about them. The answer, my answer, would be that no, I did not give a damn.

But I was working and Hank would be taking over in about half an hour and doubling up thereby with Marian, my fairly new old girlfriend. I would be her ride home at 1:00am she was the closer tonight.

But now, right now, my worst enemy in the whole world was coming in the door. followed by the young woman I'd noticed at Turtle park just days ago. I'd been right. That had been the Willis family, well the children thereof, that I'd seen that day. How do yuh like them apples!

"Two taps" he said, coming up to the bar, any brand.

I went to fulfill his order. I brought them back to the two of them.

"I assume your daughter there is old enough," I said. "I don't need to be getting into any more trouble because of you or the woman."

"She's twenty-two," he said. "Oh, and meet Candace." I nodded in the direction of the girl who looked to be underage, but I was certain that he'd been telling the truth: she was of age.

"And why would I want to be meeting any of your kids and hers," I said. "Oh, let me answer my own question. I wouldn't."

"Still angry?" he said, and it was a question.

"Angry? Not really, I just don't give a shit about any of you anymore," I said.

"We need to talk," he said.

"Can't think of one damn reason why," I said.

"Look, I thought you got off at 4:00pm, he said.

"Five," I said. He looked at his watch. I figured it to be a Rolex, but I wasn't certain.

"Forty more minutes. Could we talk then?" he said.

I was curious about the kid more than him and I couldn't have said why. I nodded. He rose and the girl followed him to a table outside on the street side patio.

Twenty minutes later my relief arrived. I pulled Marian aside.

"He's here," I said, "and he's got one of his kids with him." I nodded to the couple out on the patio. She followed my gaze.

"You want me to call the cops?" she said, smiling, "or maybe a friend of mine in the mafia?"

"I'll let you know," I said.

"Hmm," she said.

"I don't hate the motherfucker anymore. I just don't give a shit whether he lives or dies, or any of them if it comes to that," I said.

"What are you two talking about," said Hank, coming back into the action from the bathroom.

"Marian will clue you," I said. "I have a little meeting with the pair outside." I nodded once again in the direction of the visitors.

"Oh, okay," he said.

"You guys got this?" I said.

"Yeah, count it as twenty minutes off your lunch tomorrow," said Hank. Well, he was the owner, one of them. I smirked, poured myself a tap, and headed outside.

I plopped down across from Blake Willis, oh, and Candace Willis. Twenty-two-years-old Candace Willis.

"So?" I said. The man looked over at his daughter and then back at me. The girl looked nervous. I couldn't figure why she would be, but she was, that was more than clear to me.

"Julian, you're my brother. I did you wrong and so did Ava. We own that," he said, and waited for me to say something. I didn't.

He continued. Twenty some years ago, a man was shot, on January 14th, 1972," he said. He waited again, and so did I.

"The night before Dante Rodriguez was killed you and Ava Gardner made love. It was the only time you made love, so Ava told me later," he said. I finally spoke.

"So, fucking what?" I said.

"Julian, I hope you will remain calm when I tell you what I have to tell you now," he said. I again waited. So, did he, for a full minute.

"You got her pregnant. Meet your daughter," he said. I started to laugh. He didn't, laugh that is.

"Hello, Father," said Candace Willis.

All of a sudden it hit me. The man was not kidding. I had a daughter. A daughter I'd never met, never even heard of; and she was sitting across from me at this very moment looking worried.

"This is no joke; I can see that. Now I have a question," I said. The man nodded.

"Of course," he said. I turned toward the girl.

"Did you know about this?" I said. "Or rather how long have you known about this, Miss Candace 'you're of age' Willis?"

"About a month ago," she said. "Dad, wanted to wait for the right time to tell you. I mean after he told me, him and Mom." I was nodding.

"You call this man Dad," I said. "I mean even though you now know he's a phony."

"Well, yes, I guess," she said.

"And you intend to continue doing so, right?" I said. She went silent, but she did nod.

"Julian, she has two dads," he said, chancing that I would be too confused or overwhelmed or something to argue the point at least in front of the kid. He was wrong.

"That being the case Candace, dear, I need you and this phony to leave. I never want to see you again not ever and not for any reason.

"Mister Willis, I want you to know and to remember, that I will hate you with every breath I take until my dying day. So, fuck off please the both of you," I said.

"Julian, please," he said.

"I'm a convicted murderer, why would this sweet young thing want anything to do with me?" I said, staring straight at the evil monster that ruined my life.

"Julian, please… " he said. "I can make your life wonderful. Please let me! Please!"

"Okay," I said, "no problem, Mister Evil Monster. Just give me back my woman."

"Julian, Ava is my woman, but there are women out there who would be honored to be with a man like you. Honored!" he said.

"Yeah right. You don't know what you're talking about, Mister Evil Monster. I will never have a woman, a wife, ever again. A date now and again, but more than that. You know damn well I won't. Jacob told me you know everything. Oh, I know you could buy me a woman, be someone woman's pimp. But I would never have anything to do with any woman who would whore herself out for you, not ever.

"Just go Mister Evil Monster. I hate you even more than I thought it was possible to hate somebody, really!" I said.

"Money," he said, "a lot of money."

"Half," I said, "half of everything you've got, not a penny less. And all will be forgiven."

"Ridiculous," he said. "But I will go fifty million. Take it and join the family."

"Screw you," I said. I got up and walked off.

Marian tried to get me to talk as I moseyed back into the bar. But I just waved her off saying we would talk later.

"Daddy! Fifty million dollars and he doesn't want it!" said Candace.

"No, Candy, he doesn't want it. He really doesn't want the half either. He does want your mom, but he can't have her and he knows it. He does have a claim, but the statute of limitations has run out on that one. He does have a claim on my love and your mom's and yours too if it comes to that. Problem is we can't pay it the way he wants it paid, and therein lay the rub," he said.

"Daddy? He wanted half? Half of what did he say?" she said.

"Half of everything we own," he said, "half of everything we own."

"Daddy, that's crazy!" she said.

"Do you think," said Blake Willis.

The two refugees from the Sand Bar trudged in.

"I take it from the visual evidence that the news is not good," said Ava. Blake nodded toward Candace.

"Ask your daughter," said Blake. "I'm going to do something natural." He strode off toward the bathroom. He got a look from his wife that was half concern and half resignation.

"Well?" said Ava, addressing her daughter.

"He hates us," said Candace. Her mother started at her daughter's words.

"Candace, there is no way your father hates you, and he is your father. That he may hate me or your other father is maybe another matter. But you? Not a chance," said Ava.

"Mom, you might be right, but he does hate Daddy and he made it plain that if I considered Daddy to be my daddy then he hated me too or something like it," said Candace.

"Wait, he said he wanted you to hate your dad, I mean my husband?" said Ava.

"He didn't say that exactly. But it's what he meant. He asked me, since I now knew who my real father was, if I was going to continue calling Daddy, well, daddy," she said. "I said I would and that set him off. That's when he kicked us out."

"I see," said Ava. "Candace we are going to try again, and like when we talked before, we are going to need you to do the approaching of the man."

"Mom, I don't… " she started.

"Candace… " said Ava.

"Mom, the man's a killer. Yes, he did it to protect you. But Daddy protected us and made us a good life. I cannot forget that. I'll do what I can, but if the man will not budge; well, that'll be the best I can do," she said. The tears in the eyes of her mother confused the young girl.

"Mom?" said Candace.

"Candace… " started Ava.

"Mom, there's something else," said Candace. "Daniel has asked me to marry him. I told him I had to think about it. He wasn't happy, but I've decided to accept his proposal."

The look on her mother's face suddenly transformed from guilt ridden fear to one of hopefulness. She suddenly had an idea, a maybe good idea.

Chapter 21

Morton Clark was a regular at our place. And he wasn't exactly a stranger. He'd gone to school in Phoenix at the same time we had, well the same era, but he was a couple of years ahead of us. He'd been a bartender in the old days too, the old days being a few years back. He made his money driving a cab now: his career change having something to do with drinking on the job.

"Morty, Morty, Morty, how are the horses running for yuh?" I said.

"I got Sterling in the eighth at Hialeah," he said. "If he comes in, I'm getting me a new Chevy."

"Well, I'll cross my fingers for yuh," I said.

"Do so," he said.

It was time for me to go home and for Marian to come on duty for the swing shift; Hank would be in a couple of hours later to be the closer. Leona was off for the evening. The good news for them was that the tips were bigger at night. I'd be back at closing to pick her up, my usual routine.

She'd seen the man but once before, and the daughter too. That was the time, but less than a month before, when they'd come in to announce to Julian that he was a father. But here he was again coming in, probably to talk to Julian who had already gone home. The man was about to be disappointed.

He came up to the bar and ordered a tap from Hank. The man was watching her. He nodded to her. Marian Carton raised an eyebrow. It appeared that he knew her. She knew who he was from what she'd heard in high school those years ago and from what she'd seen and heard and talked with Julian about in more recent times.

Hank had adjourned to the pool room across from the barroom per se. Blake Willis signaled her to come to him. The bar was empty at the moment.

"You need another one already?" said Marian, coming up to him.

"No, no," he said. "I would like to have a word with you if you'd be so good as to hear me out," said Blake Willis. She smiled, but it was a cold smile.

"We've never met, Mister Willis, but I do know who you are. Julian pointed you out that day when you came here, what, a month ago. Please get it. I'm on his side," said Marian.

"Good," said Blake. "That is partly why I'm here. He needs a woman on his side-badly!"

"Okay," she said, "so why…?"

"You're on his side as you say. So am I. So is Ava. He hates me because I married Ava while he was helpless in prison. He was going to be in so long; well, I really did think I was doing the right thing. Well, and he disagrees.

"Then there is the matter of his daughter. We didn't know Ava was pregnant until after Julian was arrested. We decided to not tell him so as to not add to his suffering. Another mistake, well, from his point of view," said Blake.

"Okay, he hates you. So…?" she said.

"Well, like I said, we want him to not hate us and to join the family, hopefully; and I mean with you in it, the family that is," he said. Marian Carton rocked back against the backbar.

"I don't know you, Mister Willis. But like I said, I'm on Julian's side. His friends are my friends. His not-friends are not my friends," she said.

"I've had you checked out, Marian. Can I call you Marian?" he said. She shrugged.

"I suppose," she said.

"You had a bad time with your ex-husband. You've had bouts with cancer. You're broke, or were until Julian got you on here." He motioned around the room.

The two of them noticed Hank coming back in from the pool room.

"Look, can you take a break? I need to ask you something," he said.

"Hank, I'm gonna take a few. Okay?" she said. Her partner nodded and took up bar duty.

The two conversationalists wandered over to a booth.

"Okay," said Marian, "what do you want?"

"To get right to the point, we want you to help us get him to lighten up and maybe, maybe over time, forgive us and join the family as I mentioned a bit ago," said Blake.

"Help you, me help you?" she said. The man nodded.

"You know that that would make Julian hate me too," she said.

"Not if he were helping you which I know he wants to do; and, so far, has done, well, in a small way at least. Right?" said Blake.

"Not so small in my opinion. He saved me at a time when I was in need of saving," she said.

"I know, like I said about the cancer, and about the mastectomy," he said.

"Julian, knows about that. I told him. We just do the high school thing if you get my drift. It's enough for us."

"The high school thing?" he said.

"Yes, you know, clothes stay on," she said. The man stared. He realized that she didn't know about the big thing, not yet.

"Oh," he said. "Well, okay. But for you to be safe, and secure…"

"I need a lot of luck, yeah I know," she said.

Blake reached into the pocket of his blazer and pushed an envelope across the table to her.

"What's that?" she said.

"Security," he said. "Open it." She did so, tentatively.

She stared at the check. "That's a lot of money," she said.

"No strings except that maybe you could, over time, help us to get the man to accept the well-deserved love of his family, including you," said Blake.

"No strings?" she said.

"None," he said. She was nodding.

"Mister Willis, no guarantees, but okay. I can try," she said.

"That's all we can ask. Here's my card. Please, keep in touch," he said. She took the card without looking at it, nodded, and then the man was gone.

Things were good. Marian seemed happier than ever, and by that, I mean even since high school. We were dating pretty regular, and yeah still high school style. I was getting to the point where I was considering outing myself as per my dicklessness. I had gotten to a place where I hated Juan Miranda even more than my ex-brother; well, actually it was a close thing.

We were parked in the lot in front of her apartment building and we'd been kissing like kids for almost an hour. My hand was stroking her butt and she was kinda massaging my crotch. Jesus I was turned on. I'd discovered that I could still cum, empty my ball sack, but it was a job to do it. I would definitely be doing it tonight. I almost couldn't wait to get home to my place.

She slid back in her seat and looked, well, curious would have been the way to describe her look.

"Can't get you turned on tonight?" she said. Suddenly we were at the point of no return. I no longer had any real option. I had to clue her, and I was afraid. I swallowed and slid back in my seat. I stared at her for a long minute. Now her look was one of concern.

"Marian, I have a confession to make. I guess now is the time," I said.

"Huh? What?" she said. I stared for another long minute.

"Marian, like I said…"

"Julian…?"

"Marian, no one knows what I am about to tell you; well, except my hated brother and his lawyer. I would be super appreciative after you hear me out if things remain that way. Okay?" I said.

"Julian you're scaring me," she said.

"Hmm, didn't mean to.

"Marian, you know that I'm HIV of course, I told you that. And no, I don't have AIDS. But, well, there is more. It was years back now. It happened right after a visit by Blake: the visit where he let me know that Ava had dumped me and that they were already married. I was angry. Anyway, a few days after Blake Willis's visit, I was attacked by several members of a gang.

"They, the gang, intended to rape me. That happens a lot inside. Inside the prison. I tried to fight back on this occasion. And well, I said something that the gang leader, Juan Miranda, didn't like. Well, Like I say, I was still really angry because of the shit that Blake had laid on me just two days before," I said.

"Oh my," said Marian. I swallowed.

"Well, anyway, they held me down and did rape me. A couple of them did. Then Miranda pulled out a knife. I thought he was going to kill me. But no, he did something far worse," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Marian, they cut my penis off, all of it. They cut it off. That's why you don't feel… it, down there," I said. The look on the face of Marian Carton was stony, that's the only way to describe it, stony.

"Oh my God!" she said. "And nobody knows about this, I mean except us, right, and Blake, you say? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, unless he told Ava, but I don't think he has, just a feeling, but I don't think he has. But apart from him and his lawyer, some of the cons inside know; I mean there are no secrets inside. Blake shouldn't have known because I had my records sealed, but his lawyer found out and clued him," I said. Marian was shaking her head.

"Julian, we can deal with this. I mean if you will let me, us, deal with it," she said. I had started to cry; well, it was an emotional moment.

"You still want me around?" I said.

"I've lost my breasts, Julian. You've lost your thingy. We can both do this. But from now on we will be doing it with our clothes off. Well, except that you will keep on wearing your skivvies and I will keep on wearing my bra. Deal?" she said.

"Oh my God yes!" I said. "I do so want you, darling girl. Not to mention need you."

And we did go inside her place. And we did take our clothes off. And we did do a lot of stuff. Then it was time to leave. We still would be living separately, but over time that figured to change. We'd be seeing.

I was dressed and about to leave. "Marian, I told you the biggee tonight. I told you because of the practicalities of our relationship. But also, so you would know why I refuse to compromise in any way with the two bad guys over there in Laughlin," I said. The look on her face when I'd said what I'd said was-something.

"Julian, I understand what you're saying, but someday… " she said.

"Doubtful, but time will tell," I said. Then I left.

Marian Carton had a lot of thinking to do. There was bound to be some serious challenges ahead.

"Honey, I have something to tell you that I am probably not supposed to tell you. But it has to be said," said Candace.

"Candace?" said Daniel Prescott.

"I've been thinking about how I was going to break this to you for the past days and tonight is the night," she said.

"Huh?" said Daniel.

"Blake Willis is not my dad; his brother Julian is. I mean Blake Willis is my dad, but not my biological dad," said Candace.

A stunned fiancée stared across the diner's table at his intended. "Damn," he said. "Okay, I take it you didn't know?"

"Not until about a month and a half ago," she said. "It won't affect us, or rather shouldn't affect us but…"

"But?" he said.

"But it might complicate our marriage ceremony," she said.

"Huh? How might that be. I mean… " he said.

"My bio-dad didn't know he was, well, my bio-dad and now he does. And well, the question is who is going to be giving me away? I mean you can imagine," she said.

"Oh boy," he said. "Well there has to be a way. We'll figure it out. Yes indeed. We will."

Chapter 22

Over the next weeks my new-old woman and I did everything but the actual deed, some of what we did was actually pretty kinky.

"I honked the horn of my new 1988, Chevy Impala, my ancient pickup was history. Okay, so my new ride was eight years old; it was new to me. She came out. We were on our way to a night on the town to be followed by a late-night snack followed by a serious make out session leading to some well…"

"Let's go," she said, evidently in a hurry. I smiled and gunned my hot new road monster.

We headed into town and decided to wine and dine at the Mohave Inn. Steaks were good, service even better and the semi secluded booth we'd gotten seated at allowed for intimate conversation.

After dinner, we decided to cross the river and dance at the Nugget. We didn't figure to run into the bad guys, well that was the hope. And I got my hope, no bad guys; and we did dance and we did have fun, and then we went home.

"Damn that was fun tonight," I said.

"Same for me," said Marian. I leaned in and kissed her. Then I surprised her.

"Oh, here," I said. "I almost forgot." I handed her the little box. She stared at it like she couldn't believe it. I'd surprised her, oh boy had I.

"Will you?" I said. She nodded, but it was a nervous nod. For some reason I felt uneasy.

"Yes," she said. I slid the ring gently onto her finger.

"Marian, when we were in high school. I thought I loved you; now I know I do," I said. "I trust you. There is nothing else more important than that, nothing." She nodded.

"I know," she said. "I know."

We didn't shack up together that night, and I'm not sure why. We did make a date for the following Thursday August 24th 1995, I'd be switching with Hank so as to go to the court house and get the license. I'd been out of prison for year and seven months, and I was engaged to get married. It was a very good day. Oh my, yes it was!

Trust, she thought, as she dropped her purse onto the night stand beside her bed. It was the most important thing to him, he'd said. And it clearly was that at the very least. What would he be thinking once he knew that she had accepted a half a million dollars from his brother, his hated brother?

She loved him, Julian; she was sure of that. She wanted to marry him in the worst way. Maybe she should just give the money back and try to get Julian to mend fences with the family anyway. She had to think. There was the practical side of things and there was the emotional side of things. The emotional side would always trump the practicalities when it came to Julian. He'd suffered so much. Yes, she had to think. And more, she had to tell the man, whatever it was that she decided when she got done thinking.

She smiled her welcome. "Right on time, a girl always loves it when her man is on time; it shows he is anxious to be with her," she said.

"Anxious would be an understatement," I said.

"Let's eat. I spent half the day cooking it," she said.

"Well, good, I need you to practice for the future," I said. She gave me a look.

We were just finishing up the pot roast she'd spent the whole day cooking-well the slow-cooker had-and it was super good. The lady was quite the chef, I thought.

"Honey," I said. "That was great. And I have a proposal."

"You already proposed," she said, smiling. She flashed the ring on her finger in front of my face to emphasize her point.

"Yes, well this is a related issue. How about the 14th of January?" I said. "It's a Sunday, but…"

"Huh?" she said.

"For the ceremony," I said.

"Oh, okay. Sure," she said. "Sounds good."

The kissing and the hugging went on for a good length of time. Then we were sipping our after-dinner martinis.

"Guests?" she said.

"The folks at the Sand Bar of course. But who else would you have in mind?" I said, wondering at her facial expression.

"Your family, maybe, your daughter…?" she said. I frowned.

"They are not my family," I said.

"Okay, okay, just asking," she said. "We'll table that one for another time. Okay?" I nodded, though tabling something didn't mean the same thing as never gonna happen. Still, I know she didn't realize how big a deal it was for me to even talk about the bunch of them, not close to realizing that.

We talked about the venue for the event, and the cost and all of it for the next while. Oh, and that over two more martinis each.

The call from Marian had had the tone of urgency if not the words. He pulled into the bar's lot and headed inside. Both Henry and Marian were on duty and behind the bar. Blake Willis waved and she waved back. He started to take a seat in a booth across from the bar, but she waved him to follow her outside to the street side patio. He followed her.

She'd already taken a seat as he came up to her.

"Okay?" he said.

"We're getting married," she said. "Well if it all doesn't blow up in my face." The man nodded.

"Okay?" he said, again.

"He doesn't know about the money. I asked him, kind of obliquely if the family could be invited, I mean you guys, to the wedding. At first, he said no. But he lightened up a little when I said we should talk about it some more later. He agreed to that, though not enthusiastically," she said.

"And you say you haven't told him about the money," said Blake.

"No, and I'm afraid that if I did, he'd drop me like a hot rock," she said.

"Hmm," said Blake. "I see."

"Yes," she said.

"Well, I guess we're at a point where we just have to go for it. It's not like it isn't what we expected because it is."

"You're saying that I should just go for it, tell him?" she said.

"Yes, I don't see that keeping it secret forever is actually possible, and waiting any significant time at all would be a very bad idea. We tried that with Candace and it did not work out well, not well at all.

"Tell me, has he mentioned her at all?" he said.

"No, not really, only in passing and really only as a member of your family," she said.

"Jesus!" he said. "I was so hoping that he would want to be part of her life."

"The deal is that he would like her to be part of his life, but not if he has to share her in any significant way with you," she said. "He sees you as having stolen her, as well as Ava, from him. I really think that that is his biggest problem."

"Can I ask, when is the wedding supposed to come off," he said.

"January 14th," she said.

"What did you say?" he said.

"January 14th."

"Did he suggest that date?" said Blake.

"Well, yes he did," she said.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he said.

"What?" she said.,"

"That's the date… of the bad day," he said. "The day he, well, he shot Dante Rodriguez, January 14th." The look on Marian's face was actually comical.

"Oh my God!" she said. "That could not be a coincidence!"

"No, not a coincidence," he said.

"Don't tell him about the money yet. I need to talk to Ava first. I'll be getting back to you soonest. Okay?" he said.

"Yes, yes, of course," she said. The man nodded and then headed off to meet with his wife.

She was standing in the kitchen doing wifely things when he walked in. She smiled and then frowned, reacting to his look.

"Blake?" she said.

"They're getting married, maybe," he said.

"Oh my! Are we invited? Tell me we're invited!" she said.

"Still up in the air, but maybe," he said.

"When is the happy event?" she said. The man snickered.

"January 14th," he said.

"Wha… " she started.

"Exactly," he said. "He's making a statement, not to her, but to us."

"Does he know? Has she told him about the money?" she said.

"No, not yet," he said. "I told her to hold off. We have to think."

"I think that that is for the best," she said. "At least for the short term. But no matter, when he finds out…"

"Yeah, the wedding date will likely be passé," he said. She nodded.

"I'm afraid that you are right in that," she said.

It was beginning to seem like an unplanned conspiracy. He was again seated across from his brother's fiancée. She was nodding.

"Okay, unless something forces the issue. I will sit tight and wait for-something," she said.

"Good, good," said Blake.

She was busy rubbing the shine off the glass. The bar was empty except for a couple of wannabe Willie Mosconis' in the pool room. Hank was outside talking to the dumpster truck driver; about what she didn't have a clue. She had time to think, Marian Carton had time to think. She looked up. Someone was coming in.

"Bea Evans?" said Marian, stunned. Her visitor smiled.

"Yep, it's me," said Bea. "A Lite, if you've got one laying around."

"I do. Tap or bottle," said Marian.

"Tap, I guess," she said. Marian got the beer and pulled up in front of her old classmate setting the brew on the counter top.

"It's been not quite forever," said Marian.

"Hmm," said Bea. "I don't know if Julian said anything, but I work for the Willis'."

"Okay. Julian did mention you. He said it was your only downside, I mean working for the Willis'," she said.

"Hah, not exactly accurate, but I know where he's coming from," said Bea. "You told him yet, Julian?" Marian sighed.

"No, last I talked to your boss, I guess, he kinda warned me off. Well for the time being," said Marian. Bea nodded.

"Yes, that's what he told me. I'm kind of a messenger tonight," she said. "Ava's messenger, actually. She said to go ahead. Blake okayed it if not exactly enthusiastically. She would have come herself, but she was afraid she might bump into your fiancée."

"I want to, Bea. Jesus, we're talking like we were still in high school. Like last I saw you was the day before yesterday, not years ago," said Marian.

"Yes, I'm familiar," said Bea. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"For sure yes," she said. "I can use all the advice I can get."

"Bring up his need, no, his responsibility to have Candace, his daughter in his life. Kinda leave Ava and Blake on the back burner.

"And, as far as the money's concerned, let him know it's just 'in case' money. You know, in case you get sick again, or him. But really you. If he cares for you, as much as I think he likely does, he might just see that as making the money thing an okay thing," said Bea.

"You know, you just might be right. He won't be happy when he first hears about it. But, if I can get him to hear me out, well… " she said.

"Yes, exactly," said Bea. "Getting him to hear you out will be the biggee. There's no doubt about that, but I'm betting you can do it."

"Tomorrow's Sunday. I will make my move tomorrow. Just let Blake know, and Ava, to have an ambulance on call," she said, and she smiled. It was a weak smile, but it was at the least a smile.

"Good, good, I will let them know. Everybody will be crossing their fingers. I'll be crossing my toes too," said Bea.

Chapter 23

It was getting to be 1:00am Julian would be coming to pick her up and take her to home as usual. She was shaking in her boots. She'd made the decision. She was going to tell him about the money and do it before they left the bar. It would be a mite less painful if he kicked her to the curb in the bar than at the apartment. She could always get a cab home or maybe a ride from Henry.

She was sipping a glass of water as Henry locked up the place. Her man came in right at that moment.

"Well," I said. "Ready?"

"Uh, yes, but can we talk for a moment?" said Marian.

"Uh, sure," I said, wondering at her tone.

"I have a confession to make," she said. "Something I maybe should have mentioned before, but I was waiting for the right moment." I nodded, with knitted brow, I nodded.

"I'm not going to like this am I?' I said. It was clear to me that I was not.

"In the best of all possible worlds it will make no difference," she said. I nodded, but did not respond verbally.

"A couple of months ago, your brother showed up here and asked to talk to me. He wanted my help in getting you to rejoin the family was the main reason for his visit," she said.

"And, you say this meeting, if that's what it was, occurred two months ago?" I said.

"Yes, in July," she said.

"And you are just telling me now?" I said. "There's more isn't there, or you would have told me sooner. Right?" I said.

"He told me that he is very hurt that he can't get you to even talk to them. He also said that he wanted to make sure I was safe, secure, in case anything happened to you. He knows you are HIV, and he knows that I am, so far, a cancer survivor," she said, and paused.

"He offered you money, didn't he?" I said. I was certain that he had.

"He gave me half a million dollars," she said. I leaned back on the stool that I had taken. She was leaning against the bar but a foot from me. The smell of her was enticing, her words emotionally shattering.

"And you are not about to give it back. Is that what I'm to understand?" I said.

"His reasoning, about protecting me, really both of us was right on," she said. I was nodding.

"I asked you a question," I said.

"Julian, no I don't want to give it back. It's a no strings gift. You don't have to join the family. We can get married and be completely separate from them; that would be your decision," she said. "He understands that."

"And it will be your decision to keep or not to keep the money, the bribe," I said.

"He really wants to heal the family rift, Julian. I don't think he's all that far off base," she said. "Julian, you killed a man. You did it to protect your fiancée, Ava. But…"

"I need to think about this. To say I am unhappy about this, well, all I can say is I am unhappy about this," I said. "But I need to think. Let's go."

We drove slowly and wordlessly to her place. I didn't even look at her while we drove. Arriving, I didn't even try to kiss her, our usual wont. I just waited for her to get out and go up to her apartment. She opened the car's door, but turned to me for a final word.

"Julian, I am not betraying you. I'm not," she said. I turned to look at her. I nodded. She got out and went inside. I didn't drive off, not immediately. But then, after a few minutes, I did.

I had to think. She was my woman. It was unlikely that if I broke it off with her that I would ever find another. Yes, I had to think and decide, and it was going to be tough doing so. What I was not going to do was be rash in making my decision. Over the next days I would be acting much the same as usual except for the intimacy part. But we'd get along, talk a little about things, but not those things. No, not those things.

She came to work a little early. She had the car as usual; I'd be taking it to go home. She ordered her usual "before work" coffee and sat watching me. I smiled at her, but we did not immediately say anything to each other.

She stopped me a few minutes later putting her cup down. Henry was just then coming in the door.

"So, how are we doing?" she said. I smiled and greeted Henry. She turned and saw him. I think she knew I was momentarily changing the subject. She didn't press the issue.

"I talked to the two of them about the state of things in the bar. Leona had had the day off; well, it was Monday.

"So, you gonna pick me up tonight?" she said. She was serious.

"Yes, of course," I said, and I smiled. I didn't kiss her goodbye. She was getting the message. She'd finally figured out that I was still thinking about her betrayal, and she was certain, I knew she was certain, that that was exactly what I considered it was, a betrayal-another one, and this time by her.

It seemed to me like, whenever I had me a fiancée, I lost her. First there was Ava, lost to the money man. Next was Angel, lost to cancer. Now it was Marian, also lost to money, like Ava. I couldn't win.

Henry came up to her just as she was slipping off of her stool and coming around the bar to put her apron on. She handed me the car keys.

"Looks like you and yours are having a bit of a tiff," he said, his eyebrows were raised.

"Hmm, you could say that, but I'm hopeful," she said.

"Well, it happens to all of us. Just give him some time. He'll come around. I know that he loves you," said Henry. She nodded. She hoped her workmate was right, but she was not as sanguine as he was about her chances.

It was two days later. I'd made up my mind. I was there to pick her up.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," I said, "as I'm sure you know."

"Yes," she squealed, and that very quietly. I nodded.

"What do you love most in the world?' I said. She looked kinda surprised by the question, but she had a ready answer; well, I thought it to be a ready answer, maybe even rehearsed.

"You of course!" she said, emphatically.

"Okay, then give back the money to the man," I said. I was speaking calmly, but inside I was a riot of emotional turmoil. She looked down and then away.

"I can't," she said, turning her gaze back to me.

"Then clearly, at least to me, what you love most in the world is money. You will need to find another ride, a different ride home tonight," I said. "We're done." She started to cry, and oddly, I didn't give a rat's ass.

Over the next days I went to work, so did she in spite of her money. It turned out that she'd rented a car for the next few days as I soon learned; well, she did have the money. Conversation from then on between us at shift's change was uniformly short and purely work oriented. It was clear to me that she was looking for me to soften my position. That would not be happening.

It was October 20th. I pulled Henry aside after having said what would be my final words to my now ex-fiancée.

"The guy at the end of the bar," I said, pointing to my bud Mort, Morton Clark, ex schoolmate from my high school days.

"Yeah, Mort?" he said.

"This is my last night. Mort is willing to sign on if you want. He's experienced as I know you know," I said. "Marian and I are through. I'm leaving town tonight."

"Jesus, Julian, are you sure?" he said.

"Yes, have to. And not just because of her, but mostly," I said. "It's been good. I still miss our Angel, and Marian might have been a good thing for me, but well, things just didn't work out. Anyway, do consider Mort. I know he needs the work."

"Okay, okay, but please come back every once in a while. We're gonna miss yuh," he said. And then I was gone.

She knocked on the door of the mansion and waited. The part time maid, that worked at the Willis' four days a week, answered the door. It was October 21st.

Blake Willis knew she was coming; she was ushered into the library.

"So, Marian," he said, after the standard greetings.

"He's quit his job, and dumped me. And, I spoke to Henry, the boss, I think the man is leaving town; but I don't know where to."

"Damn," said Blake. "Ava's going to Phoenix with Bea in a couple of weeks: another one of her checkups. I'll let them know, and have them check out the old house. Maybe…"

"Yes, but he's been doing some thinking, considering, as I told you, these last days. I think he's made up his mind," she said.

After my time inside, I'd come back to here, Phoenix. Now after my time in Bullhead, 250 miles up the street, I was back again. They'd figure it out, I suppose. It wouldn't exactly be a case of rocket science to find me if they wanted to. But the hope is that they wouldn't want to. There was the fatherhood issue, but that too was kind of a no brainer, at least from my point of view. She was his kid now, after twenty some years of nurturing her being there for her while I was rotting in that hellhole in St. John's.

I had enough savings to get me an apartment again, and I got it at the same place, the Hilltop Motel. I had me a couple of thousand in the bank, but I'd need to be getting a job mucho prontero!

I decided to seriously try and get me a job bartending if I could. If not, I'd be back doing the day labor thing just trying to survive. It was early November 1995.

It'd been some three weeks since I'd left Bullhead. I was alone and I was in a bar: The Ice House. The owner of the place, Mark Wilson, was an ex-con too: grand theft, did five years. He talked a lot. I was getting up the balls to ask him for a job, any job. I'd clean the damn toilets, anything, I told myself.

"You look half asleep," he said, coming down the bar to where I was occupying one of his better stools.

"No, no, not asleep. This is my pensive look," I said.

"Okay?" he said.

"Got any openings?" I said. He snickered.

"I might. You mind doing clean up. Might be a bit of tending in it for you too; I mean down the line," he said.

"No, no, I'm cool. Anything," I said.

"Okay, you can start tonight," he said. "When Jill comes on," he looked at his watch, "in a couple of hours, she'll show you the ropes."

"Sounds good," I said. "And thanks a million."

"Well, thank you, Jill hates doing the cleanup, especially, well, the restrooms," said Mark.

"Not a problem for me. I've cleaned enough of those; well, when… " I started

"Yeah when you were inside. Me too," he said.

"Yeah, exactly," I said. "I mean for sure, just loved it!" The man snorted.

Chapter 24

"So, your appointment is for Tuesday the day after tomorrow," said Blake.

"Yes, the 14th, with the ophthalmologist. I need to get it done.

"And, Thanksgiving is in less than two weeks; and we have that guest list for the wedding to put together, oh, and about a hundred other things," she said. The man smirked.

"Wouldn't it be something if we could get the other daddy to come to that happy event," he said, kind of sourly.

"Yes," she said, "it would. Bea and I will check out the old homestead, probably tomorrow, just in case as we talked about. I'm still kinda surprised you haven't put Jacob's man on this. He'd find him for sure."

"Yes, but I kinda want us to do the finding. I want to make this personal. If he spots you and Bea checking out the area; it might get him to rethink his total intransigence," he said.

"Kinda circuitous thinking to my mind, but you're the boss," she said.

"Hmm," he said.

"It's been forever since I've been anywhere near this neighborhood," said Bea.

"Hmm, I used to live here with Julian, and that for a long time; well and then the bad day… " Ava said, and looked to begin crying.

"Are you crying?" said Bea.

"Just gettin' a little nostalgic," said Ava. "Those were good times, good for me, good for Julian. Good times." Her friend nodded.

"There it is, the house," said Ava. "Let's go inside."

Inside the two women looked around, no sign of life, but the place was clean, almost shiny: just like the last time she'd been by, thought Ava. The cleaning ladies were still doing their job. Going out into the back yard, it too was manicured and the plants were all tended to and green or whatever.

"Well, it doesn't look like he's been around," said Bea.

"No, and I'm not surprised. That would have been too good to be true," said Ava.

"Hmm," said Bea.

"I remember he used to hang out sometimes at the Ice House Bar when he drove for Rock and Sand back in the day," said Ava. "I want to go over there, but I do not want to run into him and seem to be stalking the man. I mean if you know what I mean."

"I do know what you mean. But, I kinda thought that that was the idea. I mean after you told me what Blake said," said Bea.

"Okay, yes, I guess. I guess we gotta risk it. That is the mandate from my husband," said Ava. Bea nodded.

"Yes," she said.

The ride was short, a single mile. But it was slow. They pulled into the back of the bar's lot. They scanned the area visually again, and still saw nothing telltale.

Each of the women looked to each other to make the first move. Ava sighed and got out. Bea followed her as they walked down the slight incline toward the side entrance.

Entering they saw a newish computerized jukebox against the far wall and the several tables between them and the bar. They immediately turned and went back outside.

"That was him!" said Bea, as they headed back to the car.

"Yes, and tending bar here," said Ava, unnecessarily. "Well, it was what he was doing up state."

"Yes, and he might still know a few folks from around here in spite of his time in prison," said Bea. Ava, nodded, sadly nodded.

"You know, he might also be staying at that motel up on the hill," said Ava, just coming up with an idea. "He stayed there for a while after he got out."

"Yeah, the Hilltop Motel," said Bea. "Like you say, I did hear that he lived there for a while when he first got out of prison."

"Yes, almost two years ago now," said Ava, wistfully.

"So, it's decided, I'll be the one to go see him on his day off, Saturday, and I will find out what might be done," said Bea.

"Yes, it has to be you, because if he sees me; I'm certain he'll throw something at me or spit on me or something," said Ava. "I'll be waiting at the hotel."

"Okay," said Bea.

"I'll have my fingers crossed," said Ava.

She waited patiently, more or less, near the entrance to the motel parking lot's entrance. It was almost 6:00pm before he saw the man drive in. It was an older Chevy, an Impala. He must have gotten it fairly recently. He'd clearly traded the truck in for this machine. She smiled. Maybe he did it to help ensure that he would not easily be found. He had to know that his brother could pretty much find anything he wanted to find, including a wanted-to-be-lost brother.

She got out of her car at the same time her quarry did his. She watched to see which apartment he had the keys to: 309.

Ava pulled into her hotel's lot to wait for news from Bea. She crossed her fingers all right, and her toes too.

She'd be seeing her eye doctor tomorrow. Well, she finally needed glasses. Forty-six years old and needing glasses. Well, it was what it was. She wondered, absently wondered, if her ex-fiancée needed glasses; he didn't wear any, not yet. Blake wore reading glasses, but otherwise, no. But Blake was ten years older than Julian, so the reading glasses made sense. She sighed. Life had so many speed bumps or some kinds of bumps. She'd hit a few of those. Julian about a million of them and mostly because of her, and she started to cry-again.

I answered the door and my mouth didn't exactly fall open, but I was breathless with surprise. Ava's best friend, Beatrice Evans, was standing in front of me; she looked-hopeful.

"So, you found me. I was hoping the lot of you wouldn't bother," I said.

"Thank you," she said, ignoring my greeting. "Yes, I would like to come in and she did without me saying another thing.

"Yes, do, uninvited though you are," I said., sarcasm verily oozing from my tone of voice.

"Thank you again," she said. "Got anything to drink?"

I didn't know what to say. "Check the ice box; I forget what might be in there." She headed for the mini-kitchenette; it was very mini. She bought out two Lites.

"We might be a while," she said, as she passed me the beer. This woman new how to take charge of a situation. But hell, I knew how to let her. I took the Lite she handed to me. We initially sat across from each other, silently, and waited for someone to talk. It turned out that I'd be the one to utter the first uttered.

"So?" I said.

"So, Thanksgiving is next week, the 23rd. The family, wants you to come. Would you consider doing that?" she said.

"No," I said, "of course not!"

"Nobody is trying to run your life for you, Julian; they all feel like they owe you and appreciate everything you've done for Ava and all. They really want to make things up to you. But you've got to let them. That's all, just let them," she said.

"Yeah, they want to make things up to me, so long as it doesn't cost them anything or cause them any inconvenience," I said. And yes, I was getting angry.

"I know for a fact that Blake especially, but Ava too, wants to make you super rich. Ten million is the number I heard," she said.

"Which cost them nothing," I said.

"Did you not hear me? I said ten million, in dollars. That's a pretty big cost to them the way I see things," she said.

"Ten million to him is meaningless," I said, "and to her. He gives more than that to rip off charities annually. I know that for sure, and I figure you do too."

"Oh, okay, I'm beginning to see where you're coming from," she said.

"Doubtful," I said. "I'm HIV positive, Miss Evans. I figure you know about that. Probably going to die of AIDS down the line. Whaddya think that should be worth. I mean what would it be worth to you in terms of dollars or anything? Oh, and didn't I say: twenty-two years in maximum security prison, locked in a cage twenty hours a day, raped regularly, beaten also regularly; you know when I wasn't alone and lonely in my cage!

"Then, when I get out, I find out I'm a father, except not really. Yeah, Miss Evans, how much do you think all of that would be worth? Ten million? Would ten million be enough? I've got no future, no woman, nothing. A few bucks is not what I need Miss Evans; it really isn't."

"Julian, what would it take to make things right with you? I mean anything?" she said.

"The man knows what it would take. It would take half," I said. "Or, my woman and my kid back, either one of those. Think that Mister Generous could afford any of that?"

"Half?" she said, not getting my meaning.

"Yes, half of everything he's got. Last I heard that would be a few billion. Probably more now, but what do I know," I said.

"I see," she said. "Can I ask, why did you dump Marian. It looked like you were getting along real good. Well, from what I heard."

"She took his money and refused to give it back. He bought her like he bought Ava Gardner. He isn't kidding anybody. Those bucks he gave to Marian were for me. His cheap ass way to get me to come around to his way of thinking. He can fuck himself. I hate the motherfucker and his wife too. I hope I'm not being vague here.

"But, to answer your question; I've just now changed my mind. The invite to Thanksgiving dinner, have his driver, I assume he has one, pick me up. I've got a car, but I don't want to be doing a five-hundred-mile round-tripper," I said. "I'm coming." Now it was her turn to be surprised.

"Really?" she said, and it was a serious question. "I mean…"

"Yes," I said.

I was smiling. If they wanted the biggest loser in Arizona, and I was sure they thought of me in that role, to come to their big ass party, Okay, I'd come. I'd even be cordial, phony cordial, but cordial. Maybe that would get them to leave well enough alone. Well, one could hope.

The guy's name was Regis Gallant, as he told me ten minutes gone. I'd seen him before, but damned if I knew from where. We rode in silence most of the way. Well, silence was relative. He had asked me how I was doing and if I wanted to stop for lunch or a drink or anything. I said no. Then there was actual silence.

Then, as we approached Bullhead-Laughlin he asked me if I planned on staying in Laughlin for the night: today was not Thanksgiving, it was the day before Thanksgiving. I already had made arrangements with Hank to shack up at his place for the night. I figured the guy who was driving me would be willing or instructed to pick me up tomorrow for the big show. And it would turn out that I would be right in my assumption. I again told him I would be staying in Bullhead with a friend. He nodded.

So far, I had not initiated any questions or comments of my own. I did now.

"Do you know who I am?" I said.

"Yes, you are Blake Willis's brother," he said.

"You know I'm an ex-con, right?" I said. And no, I had no idea why I had decided to ask him that question; it made no sense.

"Yes," he said. "I don't make judgements. I hear you're a good guy and I've been asked to make things as easy and comfortable for you as I can."

"Hmm, well, thanks for that," I said.

"You're welcome," he said. Then I remembered where I'd seen the man before. He'd come into the bar a while back, a good while back. If he was an employee of the big man now, he likely was then too. He'd been checking me out; well, he was then.

Chapter 25

Mister Gallant, Regis, did pick me up at the Sand Bar the next day. It was high noon. I had stayed in my old back room at the bar; okayed by Hank's upon my arrival; he'd actually driven me back to the bar when Regis had dropped me at his place. I'd decided that I didn't want to disrupt his family on the big day.

I was not exactly nervous, but for lack of a better term, I was nervous. The place was big. The grounds sprawling. And the dozen or so cars seemed to be parked randomly everywhere. Now I actually was nervous. There were going to be lots of strangers at the do, strangers to me. I determined to be as much of a background ornament as I could be: no star on the top of the tree me. Well, okay that was a Christmas allusion, but it was all I could think of at the moment.

Regis led me out to the back patio. Their place, I would find out later, had three patios: the back one was the largest. It was Bea that greeted me. I was actually glad for that. So far, I had not seen any of the principals among the twenty or so people scattered around. It was going to be a very large dinner party. I smiled. I was for sure certain that I was going to be the only convicted murderer among the masses.

"I am so glad you decided to actually come," said Bea.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad your glad," I said. She smiled.

"They're inside. I'm supposed to shepherd you in to them as soon as you arrived, if you were willing, of course. Well, you've arrived. Feel like being shepherded?" she said. I swallowed. I shrugged.

She took me by the arm and led me into the execution chamber; well that's what it felt like to me.

The two of them were standing not sitting in the den, well, I thought it was the den; I was about to be reeducated.

"Welcome to the library of casa Willis," said Blake. Okay it was a library not a den.

I looked around; it was just the two of them. Bea had suddenly absented herself. Ava looked to be analyzing my look.

"The twins are with Candace; they're out amongst them," she said. "We'll be joining them shortly. Okay?"

"Sure, I guess," I said. "I'm just a guest. I came here to eat," I said, smiling.

"You're more than just a guest," said Blake, "you're family. I mean seriously." I had decided to let them have their day; I'd not be arguing with them, not on their home turf. I shrugged my surrender.

"You okay?" said Ava.

"Sure, I'm fine," I said. She nodded, obviously noting my lack of enthusiasm.

"I have to say, we were hoping, but not expecting, to see you today. Can I ask, are things maybe a little better between us?" she said.

"I guess," I said.

"Julian?" said Blake. "You seem a little off…"

"Okay?" I said. I suppose he meant that I wasn't being overly enthusiastic about being around them, but I wasn't sure.

"Well, I mean you'll likely want to spend some time with your daughter, right?" he said.

Don't argue, don't argue, don't argue I kept repeating to myself in my mind.

"Whatever is good for you," I said, "and her." He was nodding, but he still clearly thought I was being, how did he say it, oh yeah, a little off.

"Julian, really, you need to work on developing a relationship with your daughter. I know it may not be comfortable at first, easy, but really," said Ava.

"You mean our daughter, right?" I said.

"Well of course, our daughter," she said.

"And Blake's her uncle or stepdad or something, right?" I said.

"Well… " she said, but stopped.

"Never mind," I said. "She and I will talk if she wants. I'm good."

"Okay," said Ava. "Good. We should go out and join the folks." I nodded, and followed their lead outside.

"Bea and Regis joined me as soon as I made my appearance. I mean they immediately joined me. It was becoming clear to me that I had handlers today. I was not to be left to my own devices under any circumstances. That bothered me some, but I let it go. I guess I was going to be handled.

In spite of what Ava had said. I didn't even see "my" daughter for some time. I figured it to be about an hour. Dinner was but a short time off. In the meantime, everyone was drinking and snacking. And, for better or worse, my handlers were keeping me from being bored by keeping up a more or less interesting chatter in the interim.

"Here comes Candace and the little ones," said Bea. They were six years old, the little ones. My daughter was twenty-four. Also, Bea had informed me in the chatter previously referenced, a new college graduate in Business Administration. How wonderful was that.

"Hi Dad," she said, coming up to us.

"Hi to you too," I said.

"I am so glad you came," she said. Her greeting didn't sound forced, but it did sound affected. He mother, I figured, but I was only guessing as far as that was concerned.

"Thank you for that," I said, and smiled.

"Dad you should let me visit you from time to time," she said.

"No problem for me, but you best let your uncle know before you come down; it is 250 miles down the street."

"My uncle?" she said.

"Yes, uncle, Stepdad, however you refer to him?" I said. And yes, I was pushing the envelope. "My brother, you know."

"Huh?" she said.

Bea, who was right beside me, decided to step in and intervene to avoid any possible change of mood. I suppose she did the right thing though I would have more than appreciated hearing my daughter's response to my envelope pushing.

"I think we need to find our seats it's almost time to eat," said Bea.

"Yes," echoed Regis who had been standing a few feet away from us watching the tableau unfold.

The Turkey and Ham dinner was ultra-good. I was glad I'd come. I had not spoken to any of the principals since before dinner: the two baddies in the house, and then briefly with Candace just before we all ate.

I was certain that I would be getting a call soon; that because I was about to leave after thanking the hosts for dinner, but without saying anything to Candace. I saw where Ava and Blake were talking to a couple across the way from me. I nodded toward them, and my entourage shepherded me up to them.

"Thanks for dinner. It was especially good tonight. Thank you again," I said.

"You're welcome?" said Blake. "We'd like you to stay for a little after dinner soiree if you're up for it. Just a small group."

"No, no, I've gotta get back. Gotta get up early tomorrow for work, and it's a long drive," I said.

"Oh, okay," he said.

"Thanks for coming," said Ava, finally opening her mouth.

Regis was at my side just I waved my goodbye to the dynamic duo and turned toward him: he'd slipped away to the bathroom just when we'd headed over to the principals.

We were on the road in less than five minutes. I wondered if my faux-daughter would even notice. But then Regis said something that surprised me.

"Did Candace catch up with you, I mean after dinner. She'd said something to me about trying to," he said.

"To you? You were with me the whole time. I never saw her come up to you." I said.

"It was just as we were wending our way to the table to eat. I think your challenge to her kind of caught her off guard. That's why Bea got us all going to the tables. I know you know that," he said.

"Hmm, yeah, I guess," I said. "But to answer your question, no she never said anything to me," I said.

"She's probably still looking for you," said Regis, I think he was kidding; we'd been on the road for twenty minutes.

"If she wants to talk to me, I guess she knows where to find me," I said.

The conversation betwixt us was pretty mundane after that. I appreciated him not getting into the personal stuff more than he had. I figured he likely had orders from Blake in that regard, or maybe he just had good sense.

Bea sat across from the man briefing him about how things went with his brother.

"So?" said Blake. "No problems then?"

"No, not really. Like I said, he appeared to want her to commit to her seeing him as the only dad, but we got around that by going to get the food. I mean before Candace could react to his somewhat pointed questions. But you may want to talk to Candace about that stuff before they, or you or Ava, talk to him again," said Bea. The man nodded.

"Okay, thank you for your help. But one more thing: did he seem to notice or care one way or the other about you and Regis hanging with him the whole day?"

"Nothing negative, but I don't think we were kidding anybody. That said, I think he saw us more as guides than as spies or prison guards or anything like that," she said.

"Good, that's what Ava and I were hoping for," he said. Bea nodded.

There was one other thing I noticed," said Bea. "He didn't say goodbye to Candace or she to him before he left. I mean I know you know that, but it might have been better if he had or she had. I mean, you know."

"Hmm, okay. Point taken," he said.

"I wish I'd been there to talk with Bea when she came over," said Ava.

"Yes, well you had your meeting. What she and I talked about was pretty straight forward. According to her, while things were apparently a little bit frosty, they were also apparently okay overall. He did talk briefly with Candace and did say hello to the twins, but apart from the brevity of that, nothing was said or done that could be considered on the negative side of things," he said.

"Okay, but how about Candace? Did Bea say anything about how she treated the man. I mean he is her father?" said Ava.

"No, not really. There were a few words about how she related to me. I mean he knows she considers me her dad. And he did sort of pressure her, but very briefly, about whether she, since she was now aware that he is her actual bio-father, referred to me as her uncle or stepdad. But at that point Bea stepped in and got everybody over to the eats before anything seriously negative could develop," he said.

"Thank God for Bea. She is a jewel to my way of thinking," said Ava.

"No argument from me.

"I, really both of us, need to do some thinking. You know, come up with an idea or two that could short shank the issue when it comes up, and it will come up again. I know it as a great truth!" he said.

"Yes, I could not agree more. And I will think about it. You know, maybe we should include Candace in the process. I mean she is center stage per the issue?" said Ava.

"I think you're right. For darn sure it wouldn't hurt. Hell, I'll go further: we cannot, not include her. Whatever the answer ends up being, she's going to have to be onboard with it," he said.

"Yes. And there is one more possible fly in the ointment," said Ava.

"Okay," said Blake.

"Daniel. No matter what. He is about to become a member of the family. And not just with us, but with Julian too. Candace is certain to have thoughts when it comes to his part in all of this, minimal as such a part might be," said Ava.

Chapter 26

"You called," said Ava, coming into the library.

"Yes, yes, I've come up with an idea that might be a wedge into the man's standoffishness," said Blake.

"Well, good," said Ava, "because I sure have not been able to. And, I have been trying."

"Well, my idea is not fool proof. But let me ask you. What is his main gripe in terms of Candace?" he said. She shrugged.

"Not sure. But mainly because we never let him know she existed until after he was out and not even then immediately," she said.

"All true. But there is something even bigger underlying his thinking, at least I think there is," he said.

"And that might be?" she said.

"That he has no place-thinks he has no place, no serious place-in her life. That we were hogging the girl for ourselves, yes, he can make that point even though it is not strictly true. But what he really wants is to be 'the' major player in her life, apart from maybe you, because you're her mother. He sees me as the male faux-equivalent of himself, and believes that he has no say in any of it," said Blake. "He seriously believes that I have claimed premier fathership of the girl and have cut him out of his rightful place. At least on any practical level."

"I don't… " she started.

"He essentially said it himself when he asked Candace if she referred to me as either her uncle or her stepdaddy! He said.

"I see what you mean. But, okay, how do you figure to turn his thinking around? You said you had an idea."

"What if he were to give her away at her and Daniel's wedding? What if he were to dance the father-daughter dance with her? The man spent more than twenty years in prison protecting you, and arguably me too. Doing the honors at Candace's wedding would be little enough, but a start. I mean a start. I mean what do you think?" he said. She had gone pensive on him, but she was nodding. It was dubious nodding, but it was affirmative nodding too.

"Of course, but as sensible and reasonable as everything you say is, there is one small catch-22," she said.

"Okay?" he said.

"Candace would have to agree to it, all of it, not to mention Daniel," she said.

"Yes, we do have to ask her, and really do the best we can to convince her. So, what do you think? Should we go for it?" he said.

"Yes, I guess it is the best we can do in the short run," she said.

"Okay then, it's a go. Candace is downtown at the office. I'll give her a call. Kevin can cover for her; it's been slow," he said, and he sighed.

"This is one meeting that might take a while, a long while," she said.

"Hopefully not," he said. "Hopefully not."

"Well, you can hope. I can hope. Everybody can hope. But in the end, what we have to do is be really convincing; and I am not at all that certain that we can be. Still, I guess we'll know soon enough. So, okay, we give Candace a heads up," she said.

Lunch was grilled cheese sandwiches; well, they were a favorite of Blake's. Lillian the cook was also the kitchen help overall. She cleaned up the table as the senior Willis' stared at each other, wistfully.

"She'll be here shortly," said Blake, repeating what he'd already said a half dozen times.

Two heads turned toward the new arrivee.

"Candace," said her mother.

"Hi baby," said her dad.

"Mom, Dad, what's going on. Kevin said it was kinda urgent. Your exact words he said," she said, nodding toward her father. The 24-year-old newcomer took a seat.

"Yes, well urgent in a sense," he said.

"Yes," said Ava.

"Okay, I'm here, I'm guessing going by the look on your faces that this, thing, might not be a real good thing," she said.

"Actually, it might be a real good thing," said Ava. "But it can't happen without your okay, and maybe Daniel's."

"Mom?" said Candace.

"Candace my brother did a wonderful thing for your mom those many years ago. But instead of praise from law enforcement; he was punished. And, I can tell you, while he was the one who suffered the most and that in oh so many ways, we suffered too; me and you mom," said Blake.

"Daddy, what do you want from me. I mean it's clear to me that you want me to be kind to my uncle, and that's how I see him; but more than that… " started Candace.

"Candace, we would be forever grateful if you would allow that good man to be your daddy at your wedding," said Ava.

"Huh?" she said.

"You know, let him give you away, do the father daughter dance, sit on one side of you at the family table your mother on the other," said Blake.

"Daddy, are you actually asking me to have him take your place on the most important day of my life? Is that what you are asking of me!" she said.

"In a word, yes," he said.

"Well, in a word, no. You are my daddy. That's not going to change. And while biologically, he might have a claim to that title; he does not have a real claim. He's a killer, Dad. Yes, he may have saved mom. And yes, he has served his time in prison for that crime. But neither I nor Daniel would ever countenance such a tradeoff," said Candace.

"Candace you are young. You do not know all of the facts, all of the suffering that that man has had to endure. Neither your mom nor I can ever repay him for his sacrifices, and that's plural sacrifices. But maybe if you could see your way clear to help us out here; well, maybe we could make some progress in that direction," he said.

"Dad, give him some money, anything, but your fatherhood!" she said. "You are my daddy, not him, not anybody else!"

"Candace, we have offered him money, a lot of money, but to put it succinctly, he spit on it. It was only by the sheerest of luck, and the intervention of Bea, that we even got him to come to Thanksgiving dinner. We want to try and build on that sliver of hope, luck," said Ava.

The semi-argument over the request by the older Willis clan members and the younger one continued for some time. In the end the negativism of Candace prevailed. Her elders, however, still held out hope, however dim it seemed for the moment.

It was almost Christmas '95. No one had called or sent a card or anything since Thanksgiving. Well, until now. I stood there with my apartment door open and staring at a smirking Candace.

"Well, 'Dad', can I come in?" she said. I nodded. I was too surprised for the moment to say anything; well, then I did.

"Yes, of course," I said, kind of weakly said.

"You kind of escaped after dinner before I had a chance to say goodbye," she said.

I was still in the doorway as she passed by me into the apartment. I scanned the parking lot to see if she had any companions.

"I'm alone," she said, noticing what I was obviously doing.

"Oh, okay," I said. "So, you caught up with me now, I guess."

"Seems so," she said.

"You called me dad… " I said.

"Well, technically you are that, right?" she said. Suddenly I actually wanted her gone.

"Yeah, technically," I said, without a shred of enthusiasm.

"I suppose I kinda have two dads, right?" she said. I remained stoically silent.

"Dad?" she said.

"He's your uncle or stepdad, actually kinda both, I suppose," I said.

"Dad, he's my dad too. He raised me. I didn't even know you existed until a few months ago. I mean… " she said.

"Not my fault," I said.

"Got a beer?" she said.

"An IPA," I said. She nodded. I hesitated. She smirked.

"Well?" she said. I headed into the kitchen to get her, her IPA. I brought it out to her already opened. She took a long pull immediately. "Good stuff," she offered. I nodded.

"Dad, I can't just tell my other dad that I know longer consider him my dad," she said.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay? That's all you've got to say?" she said, as she sipped her brew.

"Yes," I said. "I've got no say in any of that. I know it. It is what it is."

"Look, Dad, I know how you must feel… " I started.

"No, you don't," I said. "But, like I said, I know I've got no say in any of that. So, whatever." She snorted.

"Can I ask, how do you see things. What would you expect me to do, want me to do; I mean if you could have things your way?" she said.

"Just for you to recognize me as your only true father," I said. "It's the reality after all."

"But that's just it," she said, "it's not the reality. Blake Willis raised me and did right by me my whole life."

"Yes, and he gets credit for being a truly great uncle, well, in my opinion. Others may differ," I said.

"Is it true that my other 'dad' offered you a lot of money?" she said, suddenly changing the subject.

"Some," I said.

"Some?" she said.

"Ten million," I said. Her look said it all; she'd had no idea how much money I'd been offered, just that I'd been offered a good amount.

"Ten… what?" she said. "And you turned it down. Dad said you'd turned it down!"

"Yes, that much is just a joke as far as I was concerned," I said.

"Dad, are you kidding! No, it sure as hell is not a joke. And he wants you to have it. Again, it was no joke and he does have it to give. I work for him. I know how much he's got," she said.

"I know he meant me to have it. That's not what I meant. I meant that it is, was, nothing but tokenism as far as I was, and am, concerned," I said.

"Tokenism! Are you nuts!" she said.

"He took my woman, he's clearly taken my daughter, and what happened to me inside; well, you don't want to know. Oh, and more recently destroyed my hope, my only hope, of ever again having a woman of my own; you know, like the one he has.

"Tell me, you say you work for him and know how much he's worth. Is it a secret or can I be in the know?" I said.

"It's not a secret. It's actually been published in the media. Maybe ten billion of which one or two billion are actually liquid, but that changes from time to time," she said.

"Like I said tokenism," I said.

"How much would it take for the amount to be not a token. Fifty million? How much?" she said.

"Half. Half of the ten billion," I said. Her jaw dropped to just a short inch from the floor.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Half of what he's worth," I said. "He owes me."

"Dad, you have to know you're being unreasonable. I mean really," she said.

"Oh, and my fatherhood back," I said. "And his unclehood instated." She was slowly shaking her head.

"Dad, I know you saved mom. They both admit that. And you sure as hell get credit for doing so. But what you're asking…"

"Like I said earlier. I know I don't have any say or influence or any of it. So, I just work and get along," I said. "Don't worry about it. I'm good. And I ain't bothering any of you."

She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. She handed it to me.

"Dad, please don't disappoint us," she said. She rose from the table she'd been sitting at, came around to me, and kissed me on the cheek. Then she was gone.

I opened the envelope. It was an invitation to Christmas dinner. Would I attend? That was a big assed question for sure. It was six to five and pick 'em.

Chapter 27

"Yes, I just got done talking to her. She went over there on her own, caught him at home, and I guess it was a revelation to her for damn sure!" said Ava.

"I see," said Blake. "And?"

"She doesn't know what to do," said Ava.

"Maybe I do," said Blake. "The goal is to make things up to our man. His fatherhood is an issue, but it is also one that we might be able to deal with at a later date. I mean after Candace gets to know the man better."

"Okay, but… " she said.

"Like I said. We need to get our man happy. Marian is the key to doing that," he said.

"But his condition? I mean if it's even still on the table," she said. "If she is intent on keeping the money, it would for sure be less than a waste of time to even discuss it with her, let alone him."

"I could be wrong, but it's not the money he's concerned about. No, it's having control of his life and having us do things his way. Well, and as well how Candace sees him and me: our relationships with her, our fatherhoods," he said.

"I guess you're right," she said. "But will Candace give any ground. I mean any ground!"

"We'll be playing that one by ear," he said.

"We need to talk to Candace again first, and then, if all goes well, Marian," she said. He nodded his agreement.

"Look, honey," said Daniel. "For some reason, maybe a good reason or maybe not, but this request of your parents to include-yes in a big way-the guy who was your sperm donor if not exactly your real daddy, seems to be super important to them. If I had to bet on the issue; I'd be betting on the 'good reason' side. I think you need to talk to them again, and see if you can get a better feel for all of this. I'll back your side regardless, but I mean…"

"Okay, okay," she said. "I guess I see your point. Talking to them again is probably the best way to go. And, like you say, it can't hurt anything; and maybe I, we, can get some clarification as to why they are so bent on the man getting more recognition than he actually deserves."

"Yes," said Daniel. "And, I have to say, considering everything that's gone down in this past year or so, your bio-dad might deserve a heckuva lot more than, on the surface, appears to be the case. Something's out there that doesn't feel right, not to me, late comer though I am."

Candace gave her fiancée a look. "I'm beginning to think that you have a point, a really serious point," she said. Mom and Dad are not being straight with us. I mean they are not telling me, us, everything. I feel it too," she said.

"Candace will be here shortly-again," said Blake. "She actually sounded positive. Maybe, just maybe, she's rethought some of the things we talked about before."

"Hmm," said Ava. "She was pretty adamant when she left before. No, I think she might have talked to her fiancée and he might have suggested something for her to consider or ask of us or present to us."

"Now you say it, I think you may be right, probably are right. At any rate I guess we'll be finding out shortly," he said.

"Yes," she said.

Well, since my less than wonderful visit with my daughter-she was that whether she wanted to be or not-I had heard not a single word from her or anybody else about anything whatsoever. One had to love it.

I decided to not go to their Christmas soirée. The food would undoubtedly be first rate, but apart from that it would end up being just another "so what" bit of nonsense. I didn't cotton to again being just some kind of holiday ornament just so that the bad guys could feel better about themselves. No indeed!

I pulled into the lot and parked. It was almost 8:00am time to go to work. Hank would be working with me today, but he'd not show up till tenish. He'd be overlapping me and Leona. Of course, Marian didn't work with us anymore. She was rich now and above slaving with the working classes; I smiled at the thought.

She hadn't been too proud to accept help from me when she was on the street sleeping wherever she could find a place to lay her head. Well fuck her! And, we did have another full timer on the payroll with Morton having signed up when I'd gone back to Phoenix: he covered everybody's day off and generally worked swing and weekends. So we were good at the store.

The two older Willis' heard her coming down the stairs. Ava took a deep breath.

"Hi, honey," said Blake.

"Dad, Mom, we're going to have another talk about the other guy aren't we?" she said.

"Candace that other guy is your dad. He really is. But yes, your daddy here has an idea or two to run by you. Okay?" said Ava. Candace nodded.

"Okay," she said. "And I did talk to Daniel about your idea. And he did think it would be a good idea to touch base with you again."

"Hmm, well that's good," said Blake.

"Candace, we understand that you're not exactly keen about Julian Willis taking the place of your daddy on your wedding day. But he, your daddy here, as I said, has come up with a possible compromise. Okay?" said Ava.

"Okay," she said.

"Candace we, your mom and I think, that if we could get Marian and him to be a part of the wedding party, well, it might go a long way toward achieving our goal," said Blake.

"Okay?" said Candace, not sounding especially positive in her response.

"What if, Marian was to be your maid of honor and Julian be Daniel's best man? Would that be something you and Daniel could get your head around?" said Blake.

"But we've already got friends for those jobs," said Candace. Changing those now just to make the sperm donor happy…"

"Candace it would not be just to make the sperm donor happy. He's your dad, and he deserves to be in the wedding. Actually, he deserves to get a lot more than he has so far gotten from any of us, especially me. But you either when one gets right down to it. There is so much you don't know. And that the man does not want you to know. But I'm telling you we need to help him out any way we can," said Ava.

"Mom, as I told you, Daniel and I have talked it over. And after we did, I did some more thinking. But hearing you now, just now; well, I've got to stand by my original position. I mean think about it. The man is a killer, good reason or not. He was sentenced to twenty years in prison for it. You offered him ten million dollars when he got out to get him started again in life-super generous of you too, well in my opinion. And now he's demanding what he thinks is his 'rightful' place as my daddy in my wedding.

"Mom, Dad, I hardly know the man. And, I am not real enthralled by the opportunity to get to know him better. So, no. He can come to the wedding. I will shake his hand if he comes through the reception line. I will even dance with him once the floor is open to all for the purpose. But more than that, again, Mom, no," she said.

"Candace… " said Ava.

"Mom, Dad, are you telling me everything that needs telling? Like I said, Daniel and I have talked. Both he and I are at a loss. You say the man deserves more than he's gotten from us, any of us. Why does he deserve more than ten million dollars and all of it? There has to be more to it than you are telling me. Mom, Dad, when you are ready to come clean, I mean if you in fact haven't already, let me know. Okay!" she said.

Ava had been crying for a good while, and her husband had been trying to comfort her as best he could. The tears had come after the meeting with their daughter; but they had finally come to an end. There would be no changing Candace Willis's mind unless…

"Blake, we have to tell her. I don't even care if Julian goes off on me for doing so. At least there could be a good chance that he might be willing to have a good relationship with her if not with us," said Ava. Her husband sighed.

"I don't know. What happened a quarter century ago…?" he started.

"Blake, it was my doing. Our getting married was us, but that evil day was all on me. I need for our daughter to know," she said, and she was insisting, something she rarely did when relating to her husband.

"Okay, if we have to. You know, I almost want to bring Bea into the equation if in fact we do end up outing ourselves," he said.

"Bea? I mean why would…?" she said.

"Bea is the one person who seems to get along on good terms with all parties: us, Julian, Candace, the pope, all of us. If when all is said and done, she seems to be on the positive side of the question, well… " he said. She was nodding.

"Okay, I am pretty sure she can be persuaded… " she said. He snorted.

"She won't out us to the police or any of that. It's too old a case anyway, and Julian would just deny it all; it's who he is," he said.

"I suppose," she said. "But should we tell her first, or at the same time as Candace," she said.

"I think at the same time. I don't want to have to go through the story more than once. That would just draw things out and make it harder on us and likely Julian too, down the line.

"You do realize that he is very likely to find out that we outed ourselves damn near as soon as we do so," he said.

"Yes, and the truth is it will actually be a relief as far as I'm concerned. That is one particular secret that for my part has been kept too long," she said.

"So, now the question is when?" he said.

"It'll be Valentine's Day in a couple of weeks. The kids are getting married the first week of June. And odd coincidence: Valentine's Day was when Julian and I had planned to get married back in '72," she said. "Let's do the telling on the 13th."

"Okay, yes, it will give us time to get our ducks all in a row. We'll have them over for lunch. I want Daniel to be working. I just want us to be telling the two of them not anybody else," he said.

"She'll tell Daniel," said Ava. "There's no doubt in my mind about that."

"She might, but we will advise her as to how to do that after the big show," he said. "I've talked to the kid a number of times over these past months. He's pretty down to earth. He won't be a problem, but, like I say, we will prepare her regardless."

"Good, and okay," she said. "But one more thing."

"Okay?" he said.

"What about including Marian? I mean if we are trying to get them to be together again… " she said.

"No, she essentially dumped him. She had reason, but we will include her only if and when she and he are solidly back together," he said. She nodded.

"Makes sense," she said.

"Of course," he said, and he was smiling. His wife snorted her facetious derision at his obvious conceit.

Chapter 28

"Mom, Dad, someone's at the door. I'll get it."

"Bea!" said Candace, answering the door.

"Yes, I was summoned," said Bea, she was smiling. "Your mom and dad handy?"

"Yes, yes, come in," said Candace. The young led the middle-aged into the library.

"Bea, so glad you could join us today," said Ava.

"Yes, for sure," said Blake. "Let's eat. Lillian has made something, I know not what, but I'm sure it's good." The females all smirked or giggled.

The roast beef sandwiches were already on the table as was the iced tea.

The munching and the belly stuffing were underway in a trice. Conversation was of the mundane variety. It was a gay old time. Ava, was the only one who seemed somewhat detached from the gaiety, and that in an on and off kind of rhythm. Candace noticed but did not think anything of it for the moment.

All present were dabbing the remaining detritus from their lips and sipping their teas.

"Everybody good?" said a suddenly intense Blake.

"Daddy?" said Candace.

"Candace, Bea, over the next while everything you thought you knew is pretty much going to be turned upside down. Ladies-and I mean everything," said Blake.

"Daddy…?" started Candace.

"Blake?" said Bea.

"Ladies, both of you need to not talk until Blake and I are done. I don't know how long it will take, but that notwithstanding, the both of you are sure as hell going to be a lot older, at least on some level, when we're done, and that's for damn sure," said Ava.

"Momma!" said a startled Candace.

"Candace, your mom said it straight. Do not talk until we are done. This is going to be hard for all of us, but mostly for me and my wife. Okay?" said Blake.

The two women nodded.

"Okay then," said Ava, "I will go first." For the next moments, nothing, absolutely nothing, was said. Then it was.

"Some twenty-four years ago plus; a great man was convicted of shooting, murdering, a drug dealer, my drug dealer. The court proved that he had shot the man who was pressuring me for sex and wanted me to become more dependent on his drugs than I already was, had been. In my defense, I had stopped using some months before and informed the bad man, Dante Rodriguez was his name, to stay away from me and my intended, Julian Willis.

"Because the bad man was so bad, Julian, our Julian, was only convicted of second-degree murder, not first degree which could have gotten him the death penalty," said Ava.

"Mom, we know… " started Candace.

"Please, please do not interrupt me." Her tone was fierce, startling. Candace had looked bored, if that would have been the way to describe her up to that moment, but no longer. And her look was about to change yet again and that abruptly.

"He was guilty all right: guilty of protecting me. Julian did not kill Dante Rodriguez. He'd never met him or even heard of him while he was alive. Candace, Bea, I shot Dante with a small gun that Julian kept at the house. I called my Julian to confess and say goodbye.

"When he came, he shut me up, and well, made me let him take the fall for me. Ladies, Julian Willis took my punishment. A fact that I will never be able to pay him back for or live down, never," said Ava, and she began to sob, but quickly brought herself under control.

"Momma," said Candace.

"Ava?" said Bea.

"Ladies, now it is my turn," said Blake. "And believe me there is a lot more to tell. A fucking lot more!" His use of profanity in the situation at hand definitely got the attention of the visitors.

"Daddy!" exclaimed a shocked Candace. There was a surprised look on the face of Bea as well but no words. Blake held his hand up to short shank any further demonstration of disapproval.

"Up until now, I have kept my mouth shut. My wife, this wonderful lady next to me, had to get her feelings out there. Yes, it was she who pulled the trigger on that scumbag Rodriguez. But it was Rodriguez' threats and career choice that were at base the cause of it, the shooting. Your mother, Candace, was frightened and desperate.

"Your mother's life had previously been turned around. Not by me, but by my brother. He it was who sheltered and loved and protected her after she turned eighteen with almost no prospects, and naught but her high school diploma to ensure whatever prospects she might have had. In a phrase, she needed someone and he was there for her. They planned to get married, on Valentine's Day of 1972 as a matter of fact. How romantic was that," said Blake, momentarily changing his tone.

"Daddy…"

"But of course, we all know how that turned out.

"My brother, just after his conviction but before he was transported upstate to a maximum-security prison, asked me to watch over the love of his life. I swore to do so, selflessly, well, at the time. And I did. But there were to ensue complications.

"The day before that bad day, my wife, my then future wife, did the deed with my brother. And the result of that union, where, by the way, he lost his virginity, was you, Candace. You were the result of that union. But neither your mother nor I knew it at the time. It was two months after Julian was locked up that we found out. We, your mom and I, Candace, now had two of the aforementioned problems.

"One, should we tell him and thereby add to his misery? And two, if we did tell him, when should we tell him?" said Blake.

"My God!" offered Bea. "Oh my God!"

"Yes, at least that," said Blake. But that is not even close to being the end of the story."

"No," said Ava, "not close to the end of the story. We decided to not tell him until much later. That time would be, we decided, a while after he was released, and of course you both know about that. But that was not all of it either."

"Mom, really… " started Candace. A stare from her mother stopped her.

"Candace, your daddy, your real daddy in spite of everything, is Blake Willis. He and I fell in love. We didn't do anything about it for a long time, but then we did. And, like your existence, Candace, we decided not tell Julian of our betrayal, my betrayal, of his love. But after many years, nine years to be exact. We decided that we could not live with the secret of our marriage any longer. So, we, really Blake," said Ava, nodding in his direction, "did the dirty work and told Julian on a visit to see him in the prison."

"Yes, I went to seen him; that was in 1981, and confessed. At the time I also assured him that Ava and I would make it right by him. He'd be a millionaire the minute he got out. But he all but spit on it, the money, there was going to be no making it right by him; he made that very clear," said Blake.

"There is more, things that happened to that wonderful man in prison. Things that have happened to him since he got out-Angel dying, and Marian… other stuff… but, those are for another time," said Ava. "In short the man has had almost nothing to feel good about. My husband and I are at a loss. But Candace, please, we need you to rethink your position on things, I mean about him being in your wedding in a major way. Please."

Bea glanced over at Candace, and then over at the senior Willis'.

"Bea, I know you have to be wondering, or maybe not, why we asked you to come and be included in these proceedings. Three reasons: we've known you since we were all kids. We trust you, because, well, you're trustworthy. And lastly because, well, Julian trusts you; or, at least sees you as being impartial in it all; I mean the relationships, family history, all of it," said Ava.

"Yes," said Blake. "So please, Bea, we see you as a member of the family. Candace here," he smiled in his daughter's direction, "has been calling you auntie since the day she learned to talk! And that's the way we see you. So please."

"Thanks, Blake, I feel close to you all as well," said Bea. Nods all around.

"Mom, Dad," said Candace. "I've got to think about things-obviously! Shocked, stunned, overwhelmed, name it and I am experiencing it and I mean now, right now! I know what you're asking, and I will of course be considering it, and I mean also now. And I will get back to you later today, tonight latest. I just have to think." And she began to cry, silently but for sure.

"Okay," said her dad. Ava nodded. Candace, rose, turned and went back upstairs.

"She has to think," said Blake, mostly to himself.

"Whatever you need, let me know," said Bea. "But I need to think about things too."

"Bea," said Ava. "Blake and I want, hope that, Julian will be able and want to have a good relationship with Candace. That's why today's exposé. I wanted to ask you if you could kind of, well, help us in that regard."

"Ava, I can try, but this one might be a one-person decision, and the decision maker is gonna be Candace. That is a clear and obvious fact," said Bea. "But I have a question."

"Okay?" said Blake.

"Why not Marian today? I mean she knows everybody same as me," said Bea.

"Because, Marian and Julian are at odds. Partly our fault; we'll own that. But well it is a fact, regardless," said Ava. Bea nodded.

"Okay," said Bea. "I will see what I can do to help you out with Candace. I mean after you guys and her talk again and we see where we are."

"Good, good," said Blake.

She stood looking out the window of her room onto the sward that spread out broadly beyond the main patio at the back of the mansion. Her father was not a killer, wonderful. Her mother was a killer, not wonderful. Now what was she to do, think, believe! Her parents just thirty minutes before had confessed to numerous crimes and emotional cruelties. And yet, she loved them totally. And as for her father, Julian Willis…? Did she love him, suddenly love him? The answer was no. But what she did feel for him was an almost crushing respect.

Julian Willis was way too big a man, obviously, to merely love. Hell, one could love a cat! And yes, she was well aware that love of a human being was way different than a love for a pet, well, usually. But a hero of Julian Willis's dimension? How does one deal with something, or someone like that? Answer: there was no way, no practical way. And now she had to deal with it anyway. Damn it!

There was no dodging it. She had to go to him, her father. And, it could not wait, not ever that. Still, she had to talk to her parents first: her momma and her daddy.

She'd stopped crying, certain that she would be doing some more of that in the not too distant future, that for sure. She laid down on her bed and tried to rest.

She looked up at the clock radio across the room. She'd been asleep for two hours and thirteen minutes. She shook herself awake. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Candace sighed. Now was the time. She had to go down and let her parents know what she had decided to do. Her decision made perfect sense-to her. But how would the elder Willis' see things, that was the question.

She was still wearing her sneakers, New Balance size seven they were, made in America. She headed for the stairs.

Her parents were talking and seated at the table they had met at just hours earlier. They looked up.

"Mom, Dad, I am going to go and see him. Obviously, I have to do that. I have made a decision, and I hope it meets with his, my father's approval," said Candace.

"Can we know what that decision is?" said Ava.

"Please, not yet. When I get back, I will let you know how things went and see where we can go from there. I have decided to let him know that I now know the whole thing," she said. "I do know the whole thing, right?

"Apart from the details of his suffering inside prison, yes," said Blake Willis.

"Okay then, it's almost 6:00pm I may try to get him to go to dinner with me. Okay?" she said.

"Of course," said Ava, 'like you even need to ask."

"Hmm," said Candace.

Chapter 29

The Blue Boar Inn was a fairly upscale bistro, and it had the virtue of not being a place that her ex-fiancée frequented. And, it was also a tad further up the food chain than the Sand Bar. Marian Carton was in a wistful mood. She missed her man Julian Willis. But, throw away a half million dollars? Not happening. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

And then it happened, a man, a man she knew plopped down on the bar stool next to the one she was sitting on. She couldn't believe it.

"I saw you with that Willis guy from the old days," he said. It was a couple of months ago. I've been asking around. You still with him?" said William Carton.

"What the hell! What the hell are you doing here. You took everything and dumped me!" she said.

"Did not. Left you the checking account," he said, as if that somehow that made a big difference.

"Yeah, $1106 dollars and thirteen cents. Paid the rent for a month and a half after which I was sleeping in my car, which broke down by the way, for the next two months. Thanks, a helluva lot for your generosity," she said, as sarcastically as she ever said anything.

"Yeah, I made a mistake with that one, didn't I? But you've done well for yourself hooking up with that Willis guy, Julian, right?"

"What's it to yuh. No, let me answer my own question. It's none of your goddamn business," she said.

"Look, I said I was sorry. I mean it," he said.

"What? You mean even if I'm still titless!" she said. "That's why you dumped me. A soon as the operation took 'em you absented yourself as fast as you could! Wonderful husband that you were. 'Were' being the operative term."

"Look, let me buy you a drink. Whaddya say," he said.

"What do you want, William, I still ain't got no tits and for damn sure you aren't after my pussy, so what?" she said.

"Don't be so sure about that," he said. "But like I said. I saw you with that Willis guy, and well it brought back old times."

"Yeah like that's the truth!" she said.

The conversation went on for some time. Then he hit her with it, the real truth, he needed money.

"So, you need a loan?" she said, sneering. "Is that it?" He looked down. His puppy dog eyes had always intrigued her before, and if asked, she would have admitted that they still did.

"Ten-grand," he said, surprising her.

"And you imagine I have that kind of money, why?" she said.

"I know Julian Willis ain't got it, but his brother does. Everybody knows that. I know, that if your boyfriend asked, he could get it. I know he, Julian, was inside for a long time. His brother would help him out, and you too. I mean you're an item with the brother; I found out that much."

"Old news," she said.

"What?" Huh?" he said.

"We broke up. But…"

"But?" he said.

"I might be able to help you out," she said, and she didn't know why she said it.

"Really?" he said.

"Yes, but a loan, not a gift, and I will be real unhappy if you try to play me," she said. "You know like you usually do."

"No way. I'm a changed man, Marian, really," he said.

"Hmm," she said.

Candace Willis drove slowly. She hadn't exactly memorized how she would approach her father, but she did know, sort of, what she was going to say. She was more than well aware that logic was not exactly her father's forte, but it was hers and she was going to be a regular modern, and female, rendition of Aristotle for sure. Oh yeah!

"The Hilltop Motel was not a place where a young woman would want to be out and about at night. But here she was. It was 6:30pm but it was still light out this February evening 1996, so she wasn't too worried. She got out and hurried up the stairs to the man's room. She knocked.

Julian Willis answered the knock and stared.

"Gonna let me in, Father?" she said. I frowned, but I did stand aside to allow her to enter.

"I thought we'd had our conversation?" I said. I wasn't being too snide I didn't think.

"We had 'a' conversation, but that was before I knew anything. Now I know everything, well, I think I do, everything important at any rate," she said.

"What did you say," I said, and my tone was not friendly. I was certain that my exes wouldn't dare…! But had they?

"Julian Willis, I absolutely adore you as a man and as my father. Please believe that and let it set the tone for the conversation that we are about to have," she said. I didn't respond. I waited for her to get to the point.

"Today, earlier today, mom and dad and Bea and I had a long meeting. It was the most profound meeting of any kind that I have ever had with anybody about anything. And Father, please get out your dictionary and look up the word 'ever' because I am deadly serious when I say that is the only word that fits!

"Today, I learned and Bea learned that twenty-four years ago, you sacrificed your life for your woman, my mother. I have to tell you that in the middle of her, their, exposé I wanted to vomit. I didn't, but I wanted to. And, in case there is the slightest doubt in your mind I want to right now.

"Father, I am so sorry for the things I said to you, assumed about you, and have said in conversations about you behind your back. Such things will never be said or even thought of by me ever again-that's 'ever' again," she said. "That said…"

"That said?" I said.

"Oh my, how many things I have to say to you tonight. I hope I can get them all said. You have to let me. You just have to," she said.

"I do, do I," I said.

"Yes, I know you did not shoot that bad man, Mom did," she said. "but there is so much more to this than that humungous revelation. Oh yes."

"Oh?" I said, now knowing, but not knowing what she was about.

"They said, and I believe them, that they told me and Bea everything except the details of your suffering while you were in prison. They left that part an open question, but I do believe that at some point in time they will tell me, and likely Bea too, about all of that as well. But even that pales in comparison to what you and I will be talking about today," she said.

"Think so, do you?" I said, still waiting for her to say what she was going to say. My words made her pause and tender me a questioning look. She shook it off, the look.

"Yes, Father. You and I will be talking about us," she said.

"And what if I don't want to talk about that," I said.

"Unless you physically throw me out, you will have no choice," she said. "But I hope you'll want to. That at any rate is my goal, to get you to want to."

"And why would that be your goal. You made it clear the last time we talked about anything that meant anything that he was your daddy and not me," I said.

"Yes, and that remains true. He's my daddy, and you are my father," she said.

"Well, then you've wasted…"

"Shut up. It's not as simple as that, as you are about to learn," she said. Her tough tone stopped me for the moment.

"Think so huh?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Learn what?" I said, still waiting.

"I have an honored and adored father, you. And I have a well-loved daddy, who is your brother," she said.

"Not a loved father?" I said. "But just adored?"

"And honored, but no, not loved, not yet at any rate," she said. I was intrigued.

"Why not?" I said.

"When momma and daddy told me, well, what they told me earlier today. I did not know what to say or think let alone what to do. I told them so."

"Okay," I said.

"I went to my room to think things through, well, as well as I could, given the short time I'd allowed myself," she said.

"And you decided…?" I said.

"Blake Willis raised me, taught me, loved me, protected me, provided for me and those for my whole life. Of course, I love him," she said.

"And me?" I said.

"I don't know you. I now know what you did, what kind of man you are. I'm not sure my daddy could ever have done what you have done. I don't know that there are very many men in the whole world who could or would. And, stay quiet about it once they discovered that they had been betrayed; and, you definitely were that.

"Such a truth demands respect, honor, and yes adoration. My God it does. But love is a different kind of thing.

"To me Father, and that is what you are always going to be to me, there is no one like you. I am so damn proud to be your daughter. And, I know you don't love me either, not yet, and maybe not ever. I do hope that as time goes on you will learn to be proud of me and maybe, yes, to love me a little too.

"You don't know me, Julian Willis, Father, but that is the one thing that it is possible to sooner or later rectify. And, dear sir, I so want to learn about you and to know you as well. I mean a man capable of the kind of sacrifice you made for my Mom. I don't know what to say, how to express my admiration for you. I don't. Who would? But make no mistake, I mean to have you in my life and that of my family. I will tolerate nothing less, Father, absolutely nothing less," she said.

"And that is supposed to make me feel good?" I said.

"I sure hope so. But there is something else," she said. "Or maybe some things else, plural."

"And those might be?" I said.

"First off, my wedding is some two months off. I want you in it. No, not as my dad, but as my honored Father.

"The man who will give me away, and who has earned that right, in spite of his admitted by him, some very serious mistakes, is your brother. But I would appreciate it if you would be in the wedding party, maybe, if you would, be a groomsman. Would that be acceptable to you?" she said. "I could, I suppose convince my Daniel to have you be his best man. He has already offered that duty to his long-time best friend. But…"

I knew something about the duties of a best man, and I really wouldn't have been a suitable stand in for her fiancée's best friend. But a groomsman, more of an usher or witness or the like. I could do that I supposed.

"You are very articulate," I said, "and smart. Okay, I accept the part of being a groomsman if no one else objects. But I have to ask, all of this, what you've said tonight; was it your daddy or mommy who put you up to it? Tell me truly."

"No, it was neither of them. I told them that I would be talking to you, and that I would report to them after the fact, but no; this is all on me," she said. I was impressed.

"I'm impressed" I said, putting into words what I was thinking. I was nodding.

"Thank you, Father, sincerely," she said.

"Candace, the truth is that I do appreciate you coming here tonight to tell me, well, what you've told me. But there is still a lot of brackish water that has flowed and remains flowing under the bridge as far as my brother and your momma are concerned. I will for the sake of politeness and peace in the valley get along with them. But…"

"I understand and I'm sure so do they… but you and I…?

"Yes, we're good. I think we're good," I said, meaning it. "I guess we'll be seeing." I was somewhat confused but I was trying to get it together.

Our talk went on for a good while longer. Then she headed back to Laughlin to deliver her report. And, with a promise from her "father" to come to the mansion in a day or two to discuss the wedding with the guy who was payin' for it.

It occurred to her that she had not taken her "father" to dinner as she had earlier planned on doing, but well, it hadn't even come up. That would happen soon enough, oh yeah.

They'd agreed to meet at the Blue Boar Inn once again. She was waiting.

She looked up at the neon sign on the wall behind the bar; it was a clock too, but it was mainly an advertisement for a locally popular brand of beer. It was almost 1:00pm If he was even a minute late, she told herself, she was out there.

She saw him coming in; he was a minute early.

"Marian, I am so glad you're here. I really needed you to be here," he said.

"I'm sure," she said, thinking that the money was the reason for his enthusiasm.

He snickered. He knew what she was thinking. "And not just because of the loan," he said, defending himself.

"You'll pardon me if I'm somewhat dubious," she said.

"I understand, and I do need the money; I won't kid you. But, well, Marian, I also need you. Yes, when you had the operation, I couldn't believe it. I wasn't sure I could deal with it. But it's been a good while since then. I've grown up as some might say," he said.

"Hmm," she said. She didn't trust him an iota. But what if…

"Dinner tomorrow night. We can meet here. I mean if… " he said, "and maybe eat over in Laughlin." She nodded and reached into her purse. She retrieved an envelope and pushed it over the bar to him."

"Make it 5:00pm here, like you said," she said.

"Yes, that would be fine," he said. "Another one of those?" he pointed to her beer. She shrugged. He signaled the man behind the bar who was looking for customers interested in refills.

William Carton was feeling good. Could he get it up for a woman who was only half a woman, at least for the short term? He'd be tryin' for damn sure; he needed the money, oh yeah, he did.

Chapter 30

He rolled on top of her feeling the softness of her breasts and belly and all of her. "Good for you?" he said.

"Yes, like always," she said. "I like morning exercise." And she giggled.

"Me too," he said. "Julian called last night. He's coming over today after work is what he said. Probably around 5:00pm"

"Good, good," said Ava. "It'll be good to see him. It was apparently very good for her to go to him. And, for us to clue her about the bad day."

"Yes, but she still hasn't told us how she did it, convinced him," he said, "I mean to come over. She went to lay down for a while after she got back. She promised to let us in on the details of their meeting a little later."

"Well, that's good. I'm kinda looking forward to hearing about it, but also a little concerned, if you know what I mean," she said.

"At any rate it'll be our turn now to try and get him and Marian back on speaking terms," he said.

"Yes, I think Bea has gotten her to agree to being a bride's maid; she called me. Now, since Candace has convinced him to for sure come to the wedding, all may yet work out for the best," she said.

"Well, hopefully. I mean she's got him coming over here to talk about stuff. So, I guess there is no doubt he's going to be coming to the wedding, but more than that… " he said.

"Yes," she said. "I think you're right."

They were seated where they usually sat when having a family conference. Nobody said anything for the first half minute or so. The elder Willis' were oh so well aware that this would be Candace's show.

"As I told you, he's coming to the wedding, and, he's going to be in it," she said.

"But… " started Ava.

"No, he's not taking Dad's place. He's agreed to be a groomsman. We had a long talk and I think he sees where I'm coming from, and now that I know the whole story, I sure as hell know where he's coming from. But all of that said, we are in different places in the relationship part of things.

"Dad, I assured Julian Willis that he will always, and I mean always, be my father and no other…"

"But… " interjected Ava once again.

"But he will never be my daddy. Dad, you are always going to be my daddy, and he now understands that. Nor will he ever be any kind of second class anything. The two things, daddy and father, are totally different things that's all.

"Dad, I love you, and I adore him-period. I do not love Julian Willis yet, not sure if I ever will because I don't know him, not really. I know what kind of man he is, and to say that I respect him… At any rate he doesn't love me either, and for the same reason: he doesn't know me.

"Mom, Dad, he and I understand each other. I told him how much I admire him, respect him, and adore him. I think it's enough for him at least at this point in space and time. He and I are simpatico. That said…"

"That said, he still hates us, your mom and me," said Blake.

"He didn't say that, but he did say that there was a lot of bad water flowed under the bridge. But he also said that he is able to see himself as able to be polite, if that's the right word, toward the two of you. And given everything I now know; I can see where he is coming from there too."

"We do too," said Ava. "Oh yes we do."

"Dad, you will give me away. And he is good with that, well, he was after we talked. And, like I said, he'll be a groomsman, and sit with the wedding party, and all of that.

"And I will dance with him, but only after you do the father daughter dance with me.

"Wait! I didn't think, and he and I didn't actually talk about it. I don't know if he can dance. I mean he was in prison for more than twenty years… " she started.

"He used to be able to. You might have to lead, and make it a slow dance. But you'll get through it," said Ava. "And yes, you do have to dance with him. We all need to include him in every way possible without embarrassing him."

"Yes," said Candace.

"Okay, one last thing. Did you happen to mention or did he bring up Marian?" said Blake.

"No," she said. "But, as I'm sure you know, Bea was also able to talk to her. She somehow found out she hangs out at the Blue Boar, and she is willing to be in the wedding party too."

Blake Willis looked impatient. "Okay, finally, did he go off on you, or us, because we told you what happened on that bad day so long ago?" he said.

"He didn't go off on you or me. Like I said, he did complain that there was a lot of bad history that he is still dealing with, but all in all, no he didn't go off on you or me," she said.

Blake sighed. "Okay, I guess the next part is for me and you, Ava," he said.

"Yes," she said: "Marian."

"Yes," he said.

She was helping Lillian putting away the dishware from dinner and heard the door buzzer buzzing.

She headed for the receiving room. She was right; it was her ex-fiancée.

"Julian, so good to see you, really," said Ava. "you just missed dinner."

"Oh, if I'd known I was welcome, I mean for dinner, I'd have come earlier," I said.

"You're always welcome. You know that," she said. "We always eat right about 6:00pm" I think she was being sincere.

"Thanks, I'll remember," I said.

"Hold on, I'll get Blake," she said. "Make yourself a drink if you are so inclined." She nodded toward the liquor cabinet across the room and headed up the stairs.

"Thanks," I said. I didn't say the words, but I was so inclined.

She was back in less than a minute.

"He's in the bathroom. He'll be down in a couple of minutes, I guess," she said.

"I hope he isn't hurrying on my account," I said, and I did smile.

"Hmm," she said.

"And hello to you, brother mine," he said, as he came into the room. He didn't appear to be out of breath, so I guess he hadn't had to hurry.

"Hello," I said, kinda formally.

"So, you and your daughter had a talk," he said. I could see Ava was waiting to hear what I would say, maybe the tone I would use to say it.

"Yes," I said.

"And? If I might ask?" said Blake.

"I've been invited to be part of her wedding," I said.

"Well, so you're going to be?" said Ava, clearly impatient of my measured responses.

"Yes, she made a good case for me to be a part of it, the wedding, so yes, I agreed," I said.

"Thank God!" said Ava. I gave her a look.

"Okay?" I said.

"Julian: Blake, me, Candace, even Bea have wanted you to be involved in the family ever since you got out; really forever," said Ava. "I mean it, damn it." And, she actually seemed to be getting emotional; that said, she also sounded almost-angry! Well, anger is an emotion too.

"Well, you're getting what you want then, I suppose," I said.

"I know she told you that we let her know about the bad day; the real story, I mean," said Blake.

"Yes, and when I first realized what she was talking about, I was not real happy. But she was able to make a good case that you telling her and Bea was okay," I said.

"Huh?" said Ava.

"The fact is, was, that initially we didn't talk that long about that. Once I knew what the deal was, I considered that it was time for her to cut country and just leave well enough alone. But she had other ideas," I said.

"Okay," said Ava.

"She made the case that there were several levels of relationships, and that they were at core all that mattered as far as she and I were concerned," I said.

"She apparently sees you as her daddy and none other. And me as her real and only father and none other. And rather than one relationship being first in line or second, there was no line.

"She let me know that she didn't love me but does love you, and that mainly because she doesn't know me and she does you. She also made it clear that she is all but certain that you would never have done for Ava what I did, and that made me glad that you had let her in on what happened that bad day of so long ago.

"The bottom line was, the way she put it, was that she adores me, but loves you. Frankly, I'm not sure what the difference is, but it is what she said," I said. "That said, it does kinda bother me that she doesn't love me too, but well, again, it is what it is, maybe someday."

The two of them were nodding. I think that they didn't know what to make of Candace's words either.

"But again, you are going to be in the wedding, then," said Blake.

"Yes, she suggested that I could be a groomsman, like I said. And I said okay."

"Good," said Ava. "Julian, can I ask…"

"What?" I said.

"You and Marian, any chance?" she said. Okay, that one was out of left field.

"Might have been if you hadn't bribed her," I said, looking directly at my brother.

"I didn't see it as a bribe. But in retrospect, I guess I can see how you would have," he said.

"Hmm, in retrospect," I said, clearly not satisfied with his words.

"Is there anything that we can do to help heal the rift between you?" said Ava.

"If she gives the money back, all might still be good," I said.

"Julian, you are the only one in the world who would do something like that, I mean give the money back. Julian it was a free, a no strings gift to her. You, well, you're not well health wise. You're HIV. If something happened to you… " said Ava.

"If something happened to me you could take care of her then. I mean you do see where I'm coming from, right?" I said.

"I do now, but I didn't think about that at the time," said Blake. I think I was believing him. But it still did not alter the fact that my woman would not return the money once she knew how I felt about it. That still rankled.

"Julian, Marian's going to be part of the wedding party too? I would really like to maybe make some small effort to help patch things up between you two. I mean seeing as how at base it is my fault that you two broke up," said Blake.

I was squirming in my seat. Oddly what I think I needed was Candace. I wanted her advice. I had over the previous twenty-four hours come to realize that she was a lot smarter than I was. I had to believe that she would have been real good at chess.

"Okay, if it isn't going to mess things up with the bride and groom. But if this is going to be some kind of full court press… " I said.

"No, no, no pressure. An opportunity maybe but no pressure, Guaranteed," said Blake.

"Really," said Ava.

"Okay then," I said, somewhat less enthusiastically than the duo across from me would likely have preferred.

She knew that in the short term the goal was to get Marian and Julian back on speaking terms, with the long-range goal to get them back together as a couple. But Bea, though in favor of it, couldn't see it. Marian was in it for the money. Yes, she had a shared commonality with the man, their disabilities. But would that be enough for her to be a faithful life partner for him. Beatrice Evans doubted it.

The biggee was, that after learning about what the man had done for his fiancée and arguably her best friend, Bea had a whole new opinion of the man, oh yes, a totally new opinion of the man. He would have been the man for herself, Bea, disability and all, but Marian? Hell no! Marian was the same girl she'd always been, even in high school: self-centered, selfish, and looking for a man to do for her without stint.

Problem was that Julian Willis was still too bitter to trust anyone again, and certainly not Marian Carton nee Randall. But that was the game that the Willis clan had committed themselves to: to get the two mismatched people to be a couple again.

It was nice outside, but it was bound to get significantly warmer as the day wore on. But for the bridal couple Candace Willis and Daniel Prescott it was a seriously fine day regardless of the weather.

"Well, my darling girl," said Blake Willis, "this is it. You sure you don't want me to get you a cab so you can run off?" His daughter snickered.

"Isn't that the speech that the best man is supposed to give to the groom?" she said.

"Oh yeah, I think you're right," he said, and laughed.

"Daddy, is Father okay?" she said, changing the subject and the mood.

"Yes, he is happy to be here and happy for you same as me," he said. She sighed and relaxed. "But today is your day, and Daniel's. Let's just focus on that. Okay?" he said, and he smiled.

They both looked toward the door as Bea and Ava, entered.

"Okay, Daddy, it's time for you to go out into the hall and wait a few minutes while we do the final touches in here," said Ava.

"Gotcha," he said, and exited the prep room.

It was but another five minutes and strains of Mandelson's Wedding March were heard to be playing.

"Time to do it, honey," said Ava.

Chapter 31

I watched as my rival, and that is how I saw him, walked my daughter down the aisle. I was standing in the group of troopers supporting Daniel Prescott.

"I do," said my rival, when asked who gives this woman in marriage today. I was almost sick with envy, but I held it together. It was her day. And I'd have to have said that the man looked good: his suit, I was certain, cost more than my car; well, my car was eight years old when I bought it, so…

I did chance a glance at my ex-fiancée, Marian Carton, who was a bride's maid and at the far end of the line of four young ladies supporting the bride. Two, complete strangers to me, were cast in the roles of Best man and Maid of Honor. The more I thought about my willingness to be a groomsman rather than insisting on being best man, the more I realized that I'd done the right thing. I sure as hell had done the right thing for me. I would have been terrible in the role of best man.

Fifteen minutes later, my estimate, the wedding march announcing the exit from the church played and the parade was on. I should mention that I'd heard the guy playing the organ for the festivities was a pro, a Russian, played for the Metropolitan Opera Company in New York in times done by was the word; well, my brother did have money, and, connections. And, no, I still wasn't jealous, not about any of that.

The reception at the country club was tiring. And yes, I was in the line greeting the hundred or so invited guests as they passed through the line and to their assigned tables inside.

Ava herself led me to my place at the long family table at the front of the room. Waiters attended to serving the guests, as well as the bridal party per se. The guests, I was certain, were all big wigs in business or politicians or other "fancy-dancys" seated at well-appointed tables around the largish dining hall.

I had occasion to talk to nobody apart from the other groomsmen before the wedding. I was, as it turned out, indeed pressed into usher service even though I had not been part of the rehearsal the Thursday before the big event.

The dancing music began to play after all had had an opportunity to eat, have a drink, and relax a tiny bit. My rival got up and led my daughter, and his, out onto the floor for the official start of the social hour.

I was shocked out of my socks as Ava came up to me after the father-daughter dance and dragged me out onto the floor for a dance. She smelled great.

"Well, our girl is married and a Prescott now," said Ava.

"Yes, I guess so," I said. I smiled, weakly, but I did smile.

"You okay?" she said, as we continued to tour the floor.

"Yes, I'm okay. I feel a little strange; well, you can imagine, but okay," I said.

"Yes, I do imagine," she said. "But Julian, to say I am so grateful to you for your help today; well, maybe 'you' can imagine."

"No problem. It was a nice wedding," I said. It came to me that I had not heard from or even seen Marian up close during the whole ceremony or now during the reception; She'd been around, but not around me. That said, I soon realized that that was about to change because it soon did.

"Father, are you okay?" said Candace.

"Yes, and it was very nice today, the wedding," I said.

"Daniel and I will be leaving shortly. Daddy is sending us to London for our honeymoon," she said.

"Wow, sounds like fun," I said. "Well, be good and be well and be happy." Just then her husband, her new husband joined us, and the usual thank yous and wish-fors, and what all said; they left to say goodbye to half the richest people in the state.

I was just about to say my goodbyes to the host and hostess when Marian Carton came up to me.

"How are you doing?" she said.

"Good, I guess. You?" I said.

"Also good. I have to say I was surprised to see you in the wedding party," she said.

"I got a special visit from my daughter and she convinced me to be a part of it," I said.

"Well good," she said. "It was Bea who signed me up."

"Would I be out of line asking if you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow night," I said. She gave me a strange look.

I'd decided to have one more shot at the woman who might have been the best fit for me given my situation. I didn't hold out a lot of hope; but, well, one more shot, and she did look good today.

"No, no, sure," she said.

"Lift off," said Daniel. Missus Daniel Prescott smiled and leaned her head on her husband's shoulder.

"It's going to be wonderful," she said.

"Yes," he said. "And, I want you to know up front that I did not marry you just so I could vacation in Europe."

"Hmm," she said. "Good, I was worried."

"Hmm," he said. "Can I ask? I mean your other dad?"

"My father, not my dad," she said. "And just so you don't forget, I adore that wonderful man. He's not my daddy, but in some ways he's at the top of the totem pole. Okay?"

"Okay," he said. "But someday you're going to have to tell me your reasoning, because it makes no sense."

"When you're old enough," she said.

"Hmm, whatever you say," he said. "But on another subject. How hard a task master is your daddy?"

"Pretty hard. Money is his game and it does require a deal of blood, sweat and tears-oh and toil," she said, and she laughed. "You didn't have to take the job!"

"Three times the money and I didn't have to take the job? Right," he said.

Bubba Gump's, a fine shrimp and a few other things bistro in beautiful downtown Laughlin was my choice for our post wedding day meet up.

I picked her up in my new old Impala, and yes it was clean: I am not a barbarian.

The waitress seated us on the patio at my request, no wind this evening, a definite plus. The river ran quietly and majestically below us.

"Nice," she said. "I've never been here."

"Really?" I said. I was surprised. She had money still, as far as I knew. Anyone who knew Laughlin knew the Nugget, and if they knew the Nugget, they knew Bubba Gump's which was in the Nugget.

"Yes, I mean no, I've never been here. I like it," she said.

"I'm glad. I like it too," I said.

Over the next couple of hours, we ate and drank and talked over old times, well, they weren't that old, I guess. Then it was time to get down to it, and we both knew it.

"So, it's been a while," she said.

"Yes," I said. "I've missed you." She smiled.

"Julian, how are you really? Yes, you were in the wedding party, but… " she said.

"No, no, I'm fine. My daughter, who is a lot smarter than me, set me straight, and I mean by that I was doing things wrong, or thinking things wrong; and now, well, I'm not." She was nodding.

"I hear you're going to be working at the Sand Bar again, that right?" she said.

"Yes, and I'm also getting my old place in Bullhead again too," I said. She was nodding.

"So still not taking any hand-ups from the rich brother?" she said. Her tone oozed exasperation.

"I make my own way," I said. "That will never change."

"Hmm," she said. "I could only wish."

"You're out with me tonight. Does that mean you don't have a boyfriend? I mean I would have thought that by now… " I said. She snorted.

"A few dates but no more than that, so far," she said. "Why you want to apply?"

"Not sure. I mean I am lonely. I am needy. You know that," I said.

"Same goes for me," she said. "And, I am still titless and you're still HIV, right?"

"Hah! One doesn't get rid of HIV. One controls it. One learns to live with it, but get rid of it? Not possible yet. Maybe one day," I said.

We sat across from each other kinda staring, waiting. Somebody had to break the ice, and I was afraid to. The bad news was, she seemed afraid to also. I sighed. I broke the ice.

"So, any chance you could see your way clear to dump the money?" I said. "I mean any you still might have left over?"

"I still have most of it. I didn't just go out and buy a yacht," she said. "But Julian I want to keep it. Whaddya say? Think you could cut me that much slack?"

I was more disappointed in her words than I had been disappointed in anything in a long time.

"It's only money, Julian, and I mean if you have made up with the other Willis'… " she chanced.

"Marian, I have made up, a hundred percent made up with Candace. And, for her sake, I have sworn to get along with my betrayers. And well, as you accurately point out. I was in the wedding. I did get along with them, with everyone. I even danced with Ava. But, like I told Candace, there is just too much water under those bridges to forgive everything in just one fell swoop. And, as Candace told me they understand my position and are willing to live with it," I said.

"About the money… I'm sorry, Julian, truly," she said. And, that was the end of us.

I think it was Rudyard Kipling who said, wrote, "… and never the twain should meet."

I drove her back to her place, a condo in Laughlin, and went home. Sad was what it was, very sad.

I was not especially surprised at Marian's insistence on keeping the bribe; and yes, I did consider the half million a bribe, a bribe to get her to settle for me as her boyfriend. It was a long shot, my going at her again, hoping she'd maybe see things my way. We would have been an okay couple; I felt sure of that. But it was not to be.

Well, I did have my daughter back, forced to share her, but she had been right about everything she said; and the bad guy; and he was and still was the bad guy, had earned his daddyhood. He was unarguably her daddy; had been for her whole life. Me, I was a good guy; I give myself credit for that, but no way was I her daddy. I could and would one day argue her point that I couldn't get to know her well enough to love her. My feelings for her were already love if I knew anything about the topic. But, well, time would tell.

Forty-seven years old and alone and hurting. Life sucked. On the upside, Hank had hired me back at the Sand Bar, arguably a step up from the Ice House in Phoenix. I was again staying at The Dust Devil Apartments #215 this time. I was making a decent living, driving an in-good-condition nine-year-old Impala. I smiled: my new son-in-law was supposedly a good mechanic. He'd quit of course as soon as the wedding was in the works. He'd be working for the big man now same as his new wife, my daughter. I didn't know how much he was gonna be paid, but I was damn sure it'd be more than I was making.

Still, I had moved back up to Bullhead mainly because I liked it better than the big city. Plus, it was close to my daughter and her new husband.

Chapter 32

William Carton hadn't always been a player or user. But, that said, he had put the arm on Marian for ten-grand; and, as she soon learned the man had developed a greedy streak that her ex-fiancée could've and would've predicted had he known about it.

She was sitting on the patio of her fancy condo waiting for her ex-husband to show up and explain why he wasn't going to be able to pay her back as he had vociferously guaranteed that he would. She just could not believe that she'd been so gullible; she knew the man. There was no way he was going to pay her back. Hell, she figured to have a heart attack if he showed up and did in fact pay back the money he'd conned her out of.

She heard a car, a car with a hole in the muffler she was sure, pull up outside. She rose and went to the window to check. Yep, it was him. This was going to be a meeting that she wanted and didn't want. Talk about catch-22's. The initial ten-grand the man had gotten out of her had just been the beginning. Shit!

It was three minutes per the clock on the mantle before he pushed the buzzer. She buzzed him in. He took a seat on the smallish gray sofa across from where Marian Carton stood.

"Yes, do have a seat, Mister Carton. And what's the excuse this time/" she said.

"Honey, you helped me out of a jam. I tried to make it up to you. I failed, but I tried," said William.

"You are a loser aren't you, Mister," she said. "Well, we have something in common in that respect. I'm every bit as big a loser as you are, different, but a loser nevertheless!"

"I'll get it back. I promise," he said. "Look, got any coffee?" It was 11:00am everybody needs coffee at 11:00am she thought.

"Five bucks," she said.

"Huh?" he said.

"Five dollars for my coffee, Mister Carton, but that does include the tip," she said.

"Five dollars for a cup of coffee and that from my wife!" he said.

"That's what it would run you at a coffee shop these days, and it's ex-wife," she reminded him. He produced a five-dollar bill and she took it and headed into the kitchen.

She returned in a minute and half with a cup of the black elixir. She set it on the coffee table in front of him.

She recrossed the floor of the room and resumed her standing position facing him. So, your excuse?" she said. The man looked worried. The meeting was not going as the man had hoped, not as the last three such meetings had gone.

"I invested it and the investment failed," he said. "It was a sure thing, but, then, in the end it wasn't."

"I'd ask what the name of the horse was, but knowing you, you probably wouldn't tell me the truth anyway."

"Marian… " he started.

"You've cost me a hundred and ten thousand dollars over these last months, Mister. There will be no more," she said. She was just happy that she hadn't let him have her sexually, had he paid her back she would have let him. She snickered, there's an upside to everything, at least she wouldn't have to live down that particular humiliation, puppy dog eyes notwithstanding.

"Look Marian, I have a proposition for you," he said. She gave him a look. The man had steel balls, she thought. No conscience, but balls of hard metal for damn sure.

"Okay?" she said. She figured it, the proposition, was one of two things. Either he was going to let her in on another of his sure things, or he was going to propose marriage so he could get his hands on the rest of her money.

"I want to marry you. I love you. You love me. It's nature," he said. She started to laugh. He looked taken aback. "Marian… " She got control of herself.

"I'm not sure which I can say in fewer words: no marriage or no money. I guess it's a tie if it comes to that. But anyway, it's no to both things," she said. "Get out!"

"Marian, I'm being sincere," he said.

"Get the fuck out, and I mean now. I've learned my lesson," she said. "Oh, and thanks for the tip." She shooed his protesting ass out.

She got herself a cup of coffee and sat not quite ready to cry at the dinette table of her mini-condo. She'd gotten a major good deal when purchasing it, $110,000 in total. That and the one-ten her ex had ripped her off for, left her with a bit over a quarter-mother-in-law to make her way in the world. She'd be needing to get a job, somewhere. Jesus, she should have given the money back and kept her good man: water under the bridge now. She had to think.

She had heard that Julian had moved back to Bullhead. He had to quit changing addresses; it was making her dizzy. But it was his business, not hers-yet.

Bea was sitting with the kids: Jules and Juliana, seven years old and a handful. But she was also preoccupied; she had information that she wanted to share with the elder Willis'. But with Julian first? Or at all?" she had to make a decision.

She heard the front door of the mansion open, loudly. "We're back," announced Blake. Bea rose to intercept them. The kids were still occupied with the TV show they'd been watching.

"How were they?" said Ava, entering.

"Fine, they're watching their favorite show," she said. "Ava, Blake, I have some information. I want to share it and I don't want to," said Bea.

"Okay… " said Blake. Bea hesitated. She'd sort of made up her mind to tell Blake and Ava and not Julian unless Blake or Ava thought it would be a good idea, or at least an acceptable idea to do so.

"I have a few friends and date a few guys here in Laughlin, as you know," she said. "One of them, a friend over in Bullhead, told me that Marian and her ex-husband might be back together. Seen 'em at the Blue Boar.

"The friend's a tender there and he heard the man ask for money. The friend knows me and her. For the record she didn't seem especially interested in giving him the money, but who knows," she said.

"Have you told this to Julian?" said Blake.

"No, actually, I wanted to run it by you before I said anything to him; I mean they're divorced, the Cartons, so maybe… " said Bea. The two Willis' nodded.

"He's going to find out sooner or later. I think we should just leave well enough alone," said Ava.

"I agree," said Blake. Bea shrugged, but nodded her support.

It had been three months since the wedding: it was September '97. Blake had called a meeting. Ava stared at her husband. "So, what is this about?" she said.

Blake Willis looked around at the assembled females: Ava, Bea, and Candace. All of them knew of the other man's heroics, Julian's; and those heroics impacted none of them so much as his wife and soulmate Ava Willis. And all of them, especially Ava Willis, had of recent date been pressing Julian Willis to find himself a mate, a woman, a female partner to share his life. And the pressure was now on Blake Wills to get the women seated around him to lighten up. He was about to expose, to the women, the last great secret of Julian Willis.

The trigger for the about to be exposed unrevealable revelation, was the truth that word of Marian maybe hooking up with her ex-husband, the less than honorable William Carton, had finally gotten to Julian; and he had reacted predictably: he was once again living in a bitterly depressed state; and yes, Blake Willis had been keeping tabs on the man.

Never mind that Julian was already broken up with Marian Carton. Her joining forces with her ex, who was undoubtedly after her money, was the final straw for him. The fucking final damn straw, and Blake Willis was worried his brother was becoming clinically depressed. And with the females currently around him pressuring the man…

"Ava, ladies, the lot of you are aware of the man's sacrifice and his, in my opinion, heroism. You are all likewise in the know about his HIV status. But there is more, and I have kept this from you, even you Ava, because it is so bad that knowing about it is going to put things in a whole new perspective; and cause all of you even greater heartache and concern for the man as well as force all of you to stop pressing our man to find himself a woman. Marian was his last hope to have a woman of his own. At least his last realistic hope," said Blake.

"Daddy, yes, his HIV is a challenge, but lots of HIV sufferers marry and live happily ever after," said Candace.

Bea Evans stared at her boss, a man she respected and thought of as her faux-brother. She was mortally afraid that there was something on the stove that was going to be very hard to digest. She was about to be proven right.

"Bea, Candace, love of my life Ava: In 1981 I visited the best man in the world in prison. I told him that you Ava and I were married. I did promise him that you and I would never let him down and would support him in every way we could both while he was inside and after his release. Regardless, my announcement destroyed his very soul. I could see it in his look. I was sick with grief at what I felt he had to be told, and, that I had to be the one to tell him. Sick with grief!

"Some days later, actually I think it might even have been the next day, not sure about that, after my visit, his bitterness caused him to be careless and to bad mouth some very bad gang members in the cell block where he was incarcerated," said Blake.

"Blake we all know that, and that they beat him up and raped him a lot of times," said Ava. "I think about that all of the time."

"Yes, and again you all also know that he is HIV positive. But that is not the worst of it, not close to the worst of it," he said.

"Blake?" said Bea.

"Daddy?" said Candace.

"Those gang members beat him badly and raped him, as you say, Ava," he said. All of his hearers were now crying, but they had so far not been surprised by anything they had heard. Ava noticed him looking down.

"Blake?" she said.

"They, the gang members, cut off his penis, at the root. But they did not cut off his scrotum. He is just half a man anymore but he still feels the need if you get my meaning," he said.

The women around him stared, sat stunned, sat speechless. Finally, Ava spoke.

"Huh?" she said. She stood and then she fainted collapsing onto the thickly carpeted floor. Blake went to her and lifted her onto the couch.

"Ladies, our man, cannot be a man for a woman, not anymore. Not the main way," he said.

"Daddy?" said Candace.

"Oh my God," said Bea.

Ava was beginning to come around. Blake was kneeling by her side and holding her.

A conversation, a muted conversation now began. The women would no longer press their hero to find himself a woman. They would be praying that he would do so, but they now realized that it had to be left up to the man to do his own courting.

Candace was pacing back and forth. "Dad, I'm supposed to visit him on Saturday, he told me on the phone, when I called him, that he had it off. We're going to lunch. His treat he told me. He wants to talk to me. What shall I do?"

"Go, of course. But do let him set the agenda. Hear him out. Then double-cross him and report back to me," said Blake. His daughter nodded.

"I don't suppose he'd want me around," said Ava. Candace shrugged, but it was a negative shrug. Ava nodded.

"My God," cried Ava, "and it's all my fault!"

Chapter 33

A terrified Candace Willis stood in front of her father's apartment and buzzed for admittance. Terrified because she so wanted to talk to the man about the untalkaboutable: but, could she resist the almost irresistible impulse to defy her daddy's command. She'd be seeing.

Julian Willis buzzed her in. He smiled his welcome, but then, frowned his askance at the look on her face.

"Candace?" I said. I didn't know which of us looked the more concerned.

"Just visiting, Dad, like we planned," she said, "lunch." She sounded earnest, something.

"Dad? Not Father?" I said.

"Hmm, uh-yes, I forgot," she said. She clearly had something serious on her mind and I figured it to be not good news for me; well, experience teaches.

"Hmm," I said. "You seem… something."

"No, no, I'm good," she said. "So, how are you?"

"Okay, I guess," I said. "Getting along a day at a time."

"Dad, I mean Father, I know you've heard about Marian and her ex," she said, trying her best to steer him away from his clear suspiousosity. I guess I looked surprised that she knew that I knew about Marian and her ex.

I'd sat down, and now I sagged back in my seat. She was concerned about my feelings regarding my almost new love of my life. I was feeling kinda down because of the fact that Marian'd not only dumped me for money, but had hooked up with a guy who was without a doubt after her money. Was I also pissed? I guess I was. They'd be broke soon enough; I was sure of that.

The guy was a bum and a gambler. She and I had talked about him often enough in times gone by. He'd dumped her once already because of her mastectomy. He'd be doing it again as soon as he got control of or spent all of her money.

"Yeah, I heard," I said. "It's none of my business anymore, but I won't kid you. It does hurt."

"I can imagine," she said. "But are you okay?"

"I would be if you and your mom would stop pressuring me to chase women. The only woman for me is your mom, and she's unavailable. Still, Marian would have been a good fit for me I think, but well… " I said. She nodded, but I still had a nagging feeling that there was something I was missing.

"So how are you and Daniel doing these days. I mean now that you are back from London," I said. I was actually very interested in how they were doing. Newlyweds almost always had challenges as soon as the beds got made the morning after the wedding night.

"Real good, well, you can imagine, Father," she said. She could see that I was hoping she'd have stuck with the 'dad' thing. She began to fidget. My turn to notice stuff-again.

"Candace, although there are those who might legitimately argue the point, I am not the village idiot. What's going on. Something's going on. Come on, don't be trying to snow a snowman," I said.

My daughter suddenly looked angry, very angry, and that with me!

"Daddy!" she said.

"Daddy?" I said. She knew what I meant.

"Yes, fucking daddy!" she blurted. Her language got my immediate attention. Whatever it was that she was here for it wasn't my relationship with Marian Carton. That might turn out to be a related matter, but it clearly was not the main matter; I'd have put money on that one.

"Excuse me?" I said, reacting to her language, and not having a clue what she was about. She'd been sitting, now she stood and started pacing the floor.

"Daddy, I do not want to be the one to first, hurt you more than you have already been hurt. And second, I do not want to be the one to keep you in the dark about things that you should not be kept in the dark about," she said. She was still pacing, but stopping now and again to say her piece.

"Then don't," I said. "Believe me I've been hurt before; I've been lied to and kept in the dark before; humiliated like nobody ever was before. Nothing you can say, so long as it's the truth and not meant to deliberately hurt me, is going to make me think ill of you. She continued to pace, but she was thinking; likely about the wisdom of telling me what she obviously wanted to tell me.

"Just do it," I said. "If you don't somebody, likely somebody from the Willis clan, will eventually tell me. It might as well be you." She stopped, stared at me and sighed. She took her seat again on my cheap ass divan.

"Daddy, my other daddy, and he is that, told us," she said.

"Told you? Told you what? And who is us?" I said.

"The us is Mom, Bea, and me," she said. My eyes narrowed. I was at a loss as to where she was going with this. But it was clear I was not going to like it-at all.

"So?" I said.

"The what is about your injuries, disabilities, all of it, not just the HIV," she said.

I was stunned. I knew, instinctively knew, what she meant. I did not know, not yet, how he found out, but he had. Sitting in my newish rocking chair across from my daughter I was viscerally humiliated. No one can know how humiliating it was to be dickless and for other people to know about it, anybody to know about it.

"I-I-I see," I said. My tone of voice, I knew, was barely audible. I could feel my face, actually feel it; I had no expression on it, none. It was like a dead part of me.

I had initially thought that my Candace had come to pressure me to find me a woman: like all of them, the women, had been doing or seeming to do, over the past weeks and months. Ever since Marian had broken it off with me. Well, in a sense. The fact was that I had been the one to break it off with her because, as I saw it, she had betrayed me. But now…

"Daddy, I don't know what to say. I feel so bad for how I have treated you," she said.

"And now you feel sorry for your half-a-man father," I said. Did I sound bitter.

"No!" she screamed. "But, as much as you've suffered for other people, frankly, I have a right to feel sorry for you, and again, frankly for myself too! Jesus! How could he not tell me about this until now, or you tell me!"

"Yeah how," I said, as bitterly as I ever said anything.

"Daddy, I can tell you for damn sure, Momma has been crying nonstop ever since she heard," she said. "Dad told us we were not to tell you that we were now in the know. He told us because he wanted us to stop pressuring you to find a woman."

"Yeah, and now it's my turn, Candace. Go home. And above all I need to thank you for not keeping me in the dark, That, would not have been good," I said. "The humiliation as bad as it is now, looking at you, knowing what you must think of me, would have been infinitely worse, had I discovered it later; and I would have, and then realized they'd all been laughing at me or pitying me or feeling oh so sorry for me for forever! Fucking-A it would have been worse!"

"Daddy… " she said.

"Father's good enough. And Please ask them to leave me alone. Okay?" I said, not too sardonically. She was crying; well, and so was I. She nodded.

She did leave. Another fun night in Bullhead City, Arizona, September, 1997.

I would be speaking to my fuckwad ex-brother sooner or later, not the woman, his woman, the humiliation would be way too much for me; but him for fucking sure. I couldn't face any of the women, really any of them, not now, not yet. Not knowing what they now knew. And then there was Candace.

She'd done right by me, tried to. I couldn't bear the thought of all of them laughing at me. No, maybe not laughing at me; they wouldn't do that. But they would smile at my predicament on occasion. They'd for sure pity me which for me would be the worst kind of punishment I would have to endure. All because my fuckwad brother had to stick his nose into my business, and spread it around to every woman I was halfway close to. God how I hated that man.

Though she still had a chunk of money left that Blake had fronted her to get close to Julian, she had been essentially ripped off by her ex-husband William Carton for more than a hundred thousand dollars of it.

Marian Carton had some decisions to make. She no longer had her almost-man, Julian Willis, to cover for her, protect her, and yes really provide for her. A half million dollars is a chunk of money, but it was not a guarantee of a lifetime of economic security.

She made her decision. She would go back to work, and save money like crazy. She would give back the money Blake had given her no matter what. And then, crossing her fingers, she would beg Julian Willis to take her back. Jesus, what a dumbo she'd been! But she was determined to fix things. Oh, my yes, she thought; determined was the word.

She'd be heading back to Phoenix. All of her memories, bad memories, had begun in Phoenix, mostly attributable to William Carton-the bad memories. But she especially needed to not to be around the Willis', not yet.

"She managed to find a cheap enough apartment, one near where Julian had for a time shacked up, after he'd gotten out of prison: the Shangri-La, which it hardly was. Also, remembering that her old friend, Ava Gardner, had worked in a market back in the day; she decided to try to do the same.

Sometimes, the stars align favorably. They did now. Grant and Sons Food Mart was hiring: the same place that Ava had worked at a thousand years before. She was able to convince the owner to hire her. Forty-seven years-old was apparently not yet quite over the hill.

"Daniel, you are my husband, and you are my confidant in all matters public and private. What I just got done telling you has to remain between us," said Candace.

"I Understand," said Daniel. "No problem me keeping my mouth shut. You're the boss. But now you're going to tell your mom and dad? Are you sure you don't want me along? I can foresee a deal of stress if not worse in that meeting."

"No, and you are right. It is highly likely to be more than stressful," she said. "But this is one I have to do alone."

"Okay," he said, nodding.

"That was Candace. She's on her way over. Said she'd met with Julian. Her tone was not positive, but she didn't say anything about her conversation with him. She wants to do it in person, and now," said Blake Willis.

"Jesus!" said Ava. "If she told him what you told the three of us. Oh, my God, the repercussions!"

"Yes, and I'm deathly afraid that that is exactly what she's done. But I guess we'll know for sure shortly," he said.

"Do you think that she's talked to her husband?" said Ava.

"Good question. She didn't say, and I didn't have a chance to ask. I doubt it, but maybe. We'll just have to wait and see about that too," he said. "I just hope that me letting the cat out of the bag wasn't one of the biggest mistakes of my entire life. I just wanted you ladies to lighten up about pressuring him to find himself a woman. I know that every time the subject came up had to be the worst for him considering his situation."

"I suppose," she said.

Chapter 34

"Hi honey," said Ava. "Daddy said you were coming over this morning. Said you'd seen your other Dad."

"Yes," said Candace. "We need to talk."

"Okay, let me get your dad; he's upstairs shaving." Candace nodded. It was 8:00am Her dad always did his morning thing at 7:30, done by 8:00am He'd be down in a very few minutes. Her mom disappeared up the stairs.

She waited by the big picture window that looked out upon the broad sward of lawn that fronted the mansion. Time elapsed: three minutes.

"Candace, good to see you. So, the news," he said. He clearly knew the reason for the visit. Candace sagged into a chair to the right of the fireplace.

Her parents sat across from her on the sofa.

"I went to see him, but not to tell him anything; but he figured it out and I had to tell him," she said. "There, I've said it."

"Figured it out?" said Blake.

"Yes, I don't know. My look, tone, time of visit? I don't know for sure," she said.

"Okay?" said Ava.

"He's scared, humiliated, and angry," said Candace.

"Okay, but scared?" said her daddy.

"Yes, he's afraid people, us, will be laughing at him, or pitying him, or doing dumb stuff to try and make him feel good. He is real upset that anyone knew about it: the cutting off of his manhood. The humiliation he was feeling because I knew about it was tearing him up inside, no doubt about it," she said.

"And us," he said. Candace looked down.

"Dad, do not try to talk to him now. Maybe some time, but definitely not now. And you Mom, never. He really does not want to talk to you," she said. "He is terrified that you will think him some kind of 'half' a man."

"Oh my God," said Ava. "I would never…"

"But me?" said Blake.

"Dad, he hates you for telling us. He hates you for even finding out about it. He knows you had to have had him investigated or you wouldn't know about it," she said. "He's so ashamed and hopeless." She started to cry.

"My God!" said Ava. "Candace you should have lied to him, anything!"

"No Mom, lying to that man… he'd have found out and likely killed himself. Never, ever, lie to him again, not for any reason. None of us must ever contemplate lying to him," she said. "And for goddamn sure forget any form of pity as a tool in your tool kit! I mean it!"

"I hear what you are saying, Candace. And I can appreciate that what you say makes a deal of sense. But I will be trying to talk to him, somehow. Maybe a meet up on some neutral ground," said Blake.

"Dad, if it's on planet Earth it will never be neutral enough," said Candace.

"Honey," said Ava, looking at her husband. "I will absolutely be there with you. He may spit on me, but I have to talk to him, now more than ever. We're going to help him and that's that. I don't care if he doesn't want the help; he's going to get it. Period!" Her husband nodded, but it was a questioning nod.

"Candace, can I ask, was Marian ever mentioned?" said Ava.

"No, not really. Just that she might have been an acceptable replacement for you. He did kind of say that, but again, he didn't talk much about her except to emphasize that she blew it with him." Ava nodded her understanding.

"Blake?" said Ava.

"Yes, I will talk to Marian at some point too, but he's kind of down on her. So, I don't hold out much hope for anything there," he said.

"Any hope at all is better than no hope," said Ava. Her husband shook his head.

"Yes, exactly, better than no hope, but in this case damn little better!" he said.

Well I suppose it was now, sooner rather than later. I decided to talk to the man immediately but on my terms. I called him; and he was surprised, and I think in a positive way. We'd be meeting at the Blue Boar in Bullhead, without the woman or Candace or Bea any of the women, for lunch on the morrow.

I would be there a bit late on purpose. He could be doing the waiting for once. I had to wait twenty-some years; he could wait twenty-some minutes. I smiled at my genius.

High noon had been the time agreed to, and no, I was not heeled and in the street.

I had told myself that I would be arriving a bit on the late side, but I guess I was more full of shit than the chulos in the joint had assured me that I was. I was half an hour early, but I also made sure that I was not seeable, well not easily, when he did arrive.

I had situated myself at the backside of a secondary bar with a potted plant literally right next to me covering me, mostly, from those entering the bar.

I was early, as stated, but he was not. He was right on time. Well that is they were. The woman was with him. I was white hot angry. He had agreed to come single-o. He'd lied to me. Well, and why not, lying came easy for the two of them.

I waited to see if he would notice me, potted plant or no. He did not; they did not. They took a booth on the same side of the room that I was at, but half a dozen feet to my front and across the aisle from the main bar. They were talking. I saw her look around, for me I supposed; she didn't notice me, not yet: a break for me. She looked-pissed. I had to wonder at that.

"He's not here yet," she said.

"He'll be here," he said. "And he's not going to be happy that you are," said Blake. He'd hit the nail on the head with that one.

"Tough shit. The little shit can just cool his ungrateful ass down, and talk to me. Blake, we did him wrong, but our hearts were in the right place. He needs to forgive and forget, and let you, us, help him. He just does, and by God, after this meet up, he is going to!" she said.

"Honey, you need to calm down. Being pissed at him is not going to fly, not with him, not now, especially not now," he said. She sagged in her seat, noticeably.

"Blake, I'm tired of his playing the childish martyr every time we try to do something to make his life easier. Sick and tired of it. He's got to grow up. We're going to give him the money and he's going to take it, and if we can manage it; he's going to make up with Marian and take her home too," said Ava. "Yes, we have to get her to be willing to put up with his dickless self, but all things considered she won't be missing all that much anyway. He was a bit less than useless in bed the one time we did it. And yes, I know he never had a chance to learn much about that kind of thing; but him being the impatient kind of almost-man that he is; I'm pretty sure he never would have."

"Yes, he may be ungrateful, and he sure as hell is impatient. But we owe the man and we have not done right by him. We want to. We've offered to. But half of everything we've worked for! Too much," said Blake. That said, I intend to double the amount of money I originally offered him. Maybe twenty-mother-in-law will do the trick."

I decided to be the good guy and save them having to wait any longer. I got up and came around to them. I smiled. He saw me first: her back was to me, well, initially.

"Julian!" he said. "We didn't see you!"

"I guess not. Ungrateful little shit, childish martyr, useless sexually, almost-man, and too stupid to learn, that I am," I said.

"Julian, I didn't… " she started. I paused for a moment to see if she had anything to add; she didn't.

"See me, yes, I heard you."

I was standing over them, and I did the undoable. I dropped my pants and displayed by dickless self. "Well, now Ava, at least you'll know what you're laughing and insulting me behind my back about. Just do me the one small favor I absolutely need from you, the two of you. Fuckoff and die."

I pulled up my pants and walked out. I don't think anyone else saw my little bit of drama, or if they did, they didn't say anything or yell for somebody to call the cops.

"Oh my God!" said Ava. "Did you see…"

"Kinda hard not to," said Blake. "Ava, I'm sick. We need to go. I don't know what we do now, but whatever it is, we won't be doing it today. What he heard us say…"

"And ninety percent of it was me," she said, and now she was crying like she never had before: she'd destroyed her savior!

Time passed, as it has a habit of doing, and it was almost a year, July 1998, since I'd last seen any of the bad guys, even Candace. I was still tending, at the Sand Bar, that since coming back to Bullhead. It suited me. Then there were rumblings in the west.

Marian was back in Laughlin, and she was in contact with the bad guys. How did I know? Because Candace had finally come to see me and told me so. It had something to do with money, but Candace didn't know exactly what. I figured her ex had cleaned her out and she was begging for an encore. I had to smile. At any rate, interesting though the information was, it had nothing to do with me.

Ava stared at the other woman. The other woman stared at the floor. Blake decided to put an end to the staring.

"This for real?" said Blake. "You're actually giving me back all of the money I gifted you a couple of years ago?"

"Yes, sir, your banker said that bank draft was as good as cash money," said Marian. Blake Willis nodded.

"Okay, and may I ask why?" he said. Ava's brow had been knitted from the gitgo and still was.

"If I have to be honest, because I want my man back," she said.

"What did you say?" said Ava, finding her voice.

"He's worth more than the money to me," said Marian.

"Marian, if I may, we heard that you might be back with your former husband?" said Ava.

"Thought about it, decided against it. He's history. Actually, he's been history for a long, long time," she said. The two Willis' were nodding.

Ava tendered her husband a long stare. He got the message.

"I guess," he said. "He couldn't hate us anymore than he already does." Ava nodded.

"My turn," said Ava. Her husband spread his hands in a kind of an okay I give up gesture. Marian looked worried, or-something.

"Marian, I hope, we hope, you and Julian can fix things up. We really do. And anything the two of you need from us will be a done deal. But it has to be the two of you, not just you, not just him.

"All of that said, Julian hates us right now because we know something that you don't. But, now you will. You wanting to get back to him makes it imperative that you are told of this matter. Okay?" said Ava.

The woman across from her nodded, but did not actually speak. She looked worried.

"I just found out about this recently, but Blake has known about it for a long time, years. It's something a wife, a potential wife, has to know about. And you do not want to be finding out about it on your wedding night," said Ava.

"Okay," muttered Marian Carton.

"You lost your breasts to cancer; Julian knows about that. And we know from various sources including indirectly your man, that your previous relationship with Julian was purely platonic."

"Yes, that's true. I mean a lot of kissing and stuff, but all with our clothes on, really," said Marian.

"Well, what you don't know is that years ago, while he was in prison, a gang of other inmates took offense at something he said. They punished him. They cut off his penis, at the root, and no I am not kidding," said Ava.

Marian's head moved from side to side. She swallowed. She started to speak, but stopped. But then she made a supreme effort.

"I already knew that?" she said. The Willis' were clearly startled.

"Huh?" said Ava. "I mean he has HIV, and, he has no penis?"

"Yes," said Blake, joining the conversation.

"I know!" she said, but she said it quietly.

"Marian, I'm surprised, Maybe I shouldn't be, but I am. But, okay, we need to ask something of you regarding this," said Blake. "Ava and I know; Candace and Bea also know of it. But, as far as we know, except for people at the prison, no one else does."

"Yes," said Ava. "And no one else but those currently in the know must ever know. Okay?"

"Of course," said Marian.

The talk went on for a good three hours. Plans were made and unmade. Chances of success considered. In the end everyone came to one common conclusion. Bea had to be consulted. She was the one person all parties trusted to not screw things up, well, any worse than they already were.

Chapter 35

"Excuse me," said Bea to the woman at her front door.

"Bea, I know this is crazy, but Blake and Ava suggested, well, for me to talk to you," said Marian.

"Blake and Ava," said Bea Evans.

"Yes," said Marian. Bea stood aside to allow the last person she expected to see at her door to come in.

It took over an hour to even make a semblance of sense out of what Marian Carton needed to get Bea Evans to want to do.

"Get yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen," said Bea. "I'm calling Blake." Marian stood and headed for the kitchen. She delayed as long as she thought was appropriate and then reentered the front room. Bea was seated next to the phone and looking confused and a little shocked, but conscious.

Bea looked up, slowly looked up at her guest. "Okay, Blake says you're legit. I'll talk to the man. That said, do not expect a positive result. But maybe he'll at least be open to talking to you. You giving back all of that money might get you a bit of time with him, but more than that…"

"I am fully aware," said Marian.

"You took too long, Marian, you took too long." Her visitor nodded.

I was serving a couple of college students and they were happy college students; well three beers could well be cause for happiness. She took a seat several stools down the bar from the students.

"Well, if it isn't Beatrice Evans, my friend; I guess I'm still that, even though I haven't seen you in months," I said.

"You guess?" she said.

"I'm sure you know that I know you know," I said. She looked me straight in the eyes. This is one friend that I didn't cotton to losing in spite of everything.

"Yes," she said. "I know your situation. It's real bad. I cannot imagine how that must affect you."

"Yeah, well that's for sure. Nobody can know how that feels who hasn't experienced it," I said.

"I'm sure that's so. I've read some stuff about guys who come back from the war zone with injuries like yours. Some of them adapt, some of them don't. I sure as hell hope that you are one of the ones who does," she said. I snorted.

"Yeah, well I've been trying for fifteen years that should tell you something," I said. The college boys raised their empty steins for a refill.

"I'll be right back," I said. "Don't go away."

I knew she wasn't about to leave. She was for sure on a mission, probably a mission on behalf of her boss, mister rich guy. I helped out the young bucks down at the other end of the bar, and returned to the war zone.

"So, what does your boss want? I hope it's not forgiveness; I'm fresh out of any of that as far as the two of them is concerned," I said.

"As a matter of fact, it's not, at least not directly," she said. Now I was intrigued.

"What does 'not directly' mean?" I said. I really was curious.

"It means that Marian Randall has paid him back the money, and she wants to meet with you," said Bea.

"Excuse me? What did you say?" I said.

"You heard right. And I couldn't believe it myself, so I checked. It's straight," said Bea.

"She paid back the money, all of it?" I said.

"Yes, because she wants to meet with you," she said.

"I need you to do me a small favor. I could do it myself, but I need you to do it for reasons of my own," I said.

"Could you give Candace a call and tell her I want to talk to her. Tell her whenever it's convenient for her," I said.

"Okay," said Bea. "But a meet up with Marian?"

"Maybe after I talk to Candace," I said. "Oh, and it's Marian Carton, not Randall." I got a smirk for my words from my visitor.

My reason, and there really was only one, was that I wanted Candace to tell me the same story that Bea had. Bea may have been asked to embellish the story a little, or maybe un-embellish it. Candace would give it to me straight up; I had confidence in her when it came to stuff like this.

"Yes, I can do that," said Bea. She ordered a beer and we talked some more about mundane stuff. The college boys plopped a couple of bills down on the counter and cut country just as Bea was beginning to enjoy my company.

"Okay, keep the bar taps in good order," she said, as she rose to leave me alone; the place was empty except for us. Well, it was almost quitting time for me, 4:55pm anyway: dinner hour for most folks or nearly so.

So, Marian wanted to talk to me. I guess I knew why.

I determined to talk to her, Marian, if Candace was in favor of it; and if, it was not some kind of pity game that the bad guys were putting on me. I really didn't need any of that.

"Honey," said Daniel. "Just remember what we talked about. The man is calling you in on this because he believes that you will tell him the straight of it. This could be, no is, very important to him, maybe even his whole life."

"Of course, it is. And of course, I will be truthful with him. I'm the one who told you that," said Candace.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, smiling. "Anyway, I'm just adding emphasis."

"Hmm," she said.

It was Saturday, and I was scheduled for a half-day. Candace had called me to ask about that, my schedule. We'd be meeting at my place in minutes if she was gonna be on time.

The buzzer buzzed. I went to let her in. She was on time.

"Come in," I said, opening the door. She did so.

It was 2:00pm but I did have the rest of the day free. "There's a pot of coffee, just finished brewing, help yourself," I said.

"Okay, Dad," she said. I still felt a little funny with her calling me dad. But I guess I liked it. I wondered how my enemy liked it or if he even knew. She had helped herself to a cup of java, and now she was sitting across from me, waiting.

"Okay," I said, breaking the ice. "You know why I asked you to come over."

"Yes, Aunt Bea told me. And just so you'll know, Mom and Dad, knew I'd be coming over. I guess they see things as them having skin in the game too," said Candace.

"Hmm, they do, do they," I said, and it was not a question.

"Yes," she said.

"Okay cutting right to the chase. She has given back all of the money, and she wants to meet with me, I mean Marian, of course," I said.

"Yes, and yes. And if you hadn't figured out the reason for the meet up or if Bea hadn't made herself clear enough; it's to get you to want to make up and get back together," said Candace.

"Make up with me," I said, and that more or less to myself.

"Yes, she did give back all of the money; had to sell her condo to be able to do it, and oh, worked for the past year or so at a grocery store to make up the difference. It seems her ex-husband had ripped her off for part of the money, not sure how much exactly, but over a hundred thousand," said Candace.

"Have you talked with her. I mean Marian?" I said.

"No, I have not. Was I supposed to?" she said.

"No, no, just curious," I said.

"Hmm," she said.

"Okay, taking into account that you haven't spoken with Marian, but still being aware of what she purports to want from me. What do you think I should do?" I said.

"Me? What do I think you should do?" she said.

"Yes, I truly want your opinion. I value it," I said, and smiled. She looked kinda-something.

"Okay," she said, slowly said.

"Really, Candace. I'm a little concerned. Yes, she gave back the money. Yes, that makes me feel more confident. Yes, her knowing I'm HIV positive and missing my dick-and I know you know she knows-also makes me feel better about her intentions. But…"

"But?" said Candace.

"But she also knows I am the brother of a billionaire. Could she be playing the long game and expecting me to get rich eventually?" I said. "Be willing to sacrifice her half million to maybe get super rich at some point in the future. If so… " I said, leaving my meaning clear, but hanging in the air.

Candace nodded. "Dad, she's the same age as you. She knows what kind of man you are-damn few like you in the whole world-and she wants that for herself, in my opinion. I would if I were her. Money is useful, but it is not an end all in itself.

"Still, since you want my opinion, I would advise you to move into together, but not marry her, not right away. And again, in my opinion, you will, over time, see things, notice things that will be telltale if her motives are not pure. And, on the wild-ass chance that you do decide to take the millions that Dad is offering you, you can always set up a prenup to protect yourself. Fact is you could do that even if you don't decide to get real about the millions," she said.

"Jesus this daughter of mine was sharp. She was absolutely right. I was going to be taking her advice. I sure as hell was.

"Okay, Candace. I am taking your advice. If you will, please set up the meeting with Marian," I said.

"Done," she said.

We talked a little longer and then she was gone. I would be waiting for her call.

Well, I was beginning to feel like a big shot: meetings, meetings, meetings! An almost meeting with the bad guys at the Blue Boar, a meeting with Bea. A meeting with Candace, and now a meeting with my maybe future bed partner. Well, there's an upside to everything, oh, and a downside. I was soon to discover which side would in the end predominate.

We were meeting, and likely gonna be eating at the Blue Boar B&G. It was convenient for me; for her, maybe not so much. She'd be driving up from Phoenix, well, unless she'd managed to talk the rich guy into letting her stay with them. I guess I'd know about that too soon enough. She was just now coming in the front door of the almost upscale establishment.

She stopped in front of the booth I'd staked out. "Have a seat," I said.

"Thank you," she said, taking the offered seat. Her tone was kinda, what, maybe business like.

I waved to the waitress that was touring the floor. I'd cued her early on that I was going to be having a visitor. She nodded, and made to deliver the previously ordered wine, pinot noir.

"So, you wanted to meet?" I said.

"Yes, I hope that's all right," she said. "And yes, I know your position on taking money or favors from the Laughlin Willis'." I nodded.

"And, I've heard you've made a serious effort to overcome our differences in that regard," I said.

"Yes," she said. "I gave the money back to the man." We stared at each other for a long minute.

"How do you see this meeting's outcome?" I said.

"I'm almost afraid to say," she said.

"No need to be afraid. We'll either settle our differences or we won't," I said.

The waitress arrived with the bottle of wine, and poured us each a glass. "Thank you," I said, nodding to the waitress.

"Julian we can learn to deal with stuff. I don't even think it would be that hard. I mean it's going to be kinda up to you as far as that's concerned. So, you tell me?"

"I'm not sure how hard it would be. I am willing to give it a go. But… " I said.

"But?" she said.

"If we should decide to, what, be together. At first, maybe we just live together and see how it goes. Anything more permanent than that would take a deal more time," I said.

She nodded, but it was a questioning nod. "You're saying no to marriage at least for the short run?" she said.

"Yes, I'm not sure a woman, any woman, could deal with my shortcomings over the long haul without cheating on me. Maybe they, she, could, but I am more than slightly dubious on that score," I said. "And then there is the money thing."

"Okay, I could live with that condition even over the long haul. There aren't exactly a hundred guys beating down my door to get some," she said.

"There are none beating down my door, and with my baggage, there is likely never going to be a time that that's not so," I said. "At any rate, tonight, your place or mine."

"Yours, mine is still 250 miles away," she said, and she was smiling. I was nervous; she had to be as well, but I guess we'd be seeing.

Chapter 36

She was wearing her special bra and only that. I was wearing my usual skivvies and only those. Well, the visual stuff was better presented with those things on than off.

Her lips and tongue tasted real good, so did the other parts of her that she presented to me. A lot of touchy-feely stuff went on, and overall, our first serious tests of the new relationship went pretty damn well.

I had to wonder how long it would be before the busybodies would be looking to find out how we were getting along. I was hoping it would be forever, but knowing the crew in Laughlin, as I did, I figured my hopes were pretty much vain hopes.

But Marian and I were launched.

I did get a visit from Candace three days after Marian moved in.

We hadn't even had a chance to go down to Phoenix and get Marian's stuff moved out of the Shangri La. The good news there was that Candace offered to drive down with us and help out.

We did take Candace up on her offer, and she enlisted Bea in the objective too. I figured that to be a good deal since we had to take two cars anyway, and that way neither driver had to be single-o.

I had been worried that we might be getting questions about our, well, sexual compatibility sooner rather than later from the Laughlin crew. We got none. I was pretty sure they wanted to ask, but had decided it would be less than a good idea to do so. If so, they were right.

Over the next almost two years, it was now summer 1999, we did pretty good. We kept my place at the Dust Devil: it had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a small patio, and a not ridiculously small kitchen. And the rent was low enough that my woman didn't have to work.

We did get visits from all in sundry. Read, the entire population of Laughlin, Nevada. I bit my tongue and it hurt, but nothing untoward was asked of us or even worse, offered. But then it was.

I don't know why the other Willis clan couldn't get it, but it was clear that they just couldn't seem to. More's the pity. The bad news was that my woman was on their side.

It'd been Candace that had gotten me to be okay being around the bad guys in spite of what I'd heard at the Blue Boar when we were supposed to meet and talk but instead I only heard!

It was like my daughter could talk me into anything. Well, truth told, I guess she in fact mostly could, and did. I know my brother knew it too.

"I was talking to Candace," he said. "You know, our daughter." I nodded. We were sitting in a booth at the Sand Bar. I was off duty and he was sitting across from me pinning me.

"Okay?" I said. "So?"

"She's of the opinion that you should take the money," he said.

"Me too, my half?" I said.

"Too much," he said.

"Then we are done talking about money," I said.

"Julian, be reasonable," he said.

"Did you actually say that to me?" I said.

"Julian, what you are looking for is revenge not money. I know it. Ava knows it. Hell, anyone who knows the story, and there are a few of us now, knows it. Twenty million, no strings! How about it?" he said.

"No," I said. "Not even close. And revenge? I don't know if I would characterize things that way. I sacrificed everything for the woman, and you; and Candace too though I didn't know about her at the time. I figure I'm entitled to what I'm asking for."

"Julian…"

"No, and don't ask again. Candace got me to talk to the two of you again, that even after I swore to myself that I never would. But, that's the limit of my tolerance unless I get what I think I deserve. I know I've got no say in any of that, but I can just cut the lot of you out of my life an get on with being as happy as I can without you. Understand!" I said.

"I guess," he said. "But, you're being unreasonable. There is way more to what you are asking for than you imagine. Believe me," he said.

We talked and he continued to press me more or less indirectly, but with less intensity than he had been. Then he was gone.

"He spit on the money, didn't he," said Ava. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Yes, and please do not let it out that I offered him money. I'm sure he believes it would break him and her up if she found out about it," said Blake.

"But didn't you already mention it to Candace? I mean she might let it slip if only by accident," said Ava.

"Yes, well, not exactly, but I will have a talk with her," he said.

"No, Dad, I didn't tell her about the money, mainly because I didn't know how much you might offer my other dad if anything," said Candace. "But…"

"But?" said Blake, suddenly worried.

"I did tell her that you wanted to talk to him about some important things," she said. "Nothing specific, just things."

"Oh, shit," he said. "She's going to ask him what about!" Now Blake Willis had something specific to be worried about.

"Well, now, I guess we'll find out what a verbal tsunami is like," he said. "Candace, if you see your dad, your other dad…"

"Daddy, I already know what I'm going to say to him, and it has nothing to do with Marian Carton, not directly. But, if things work out the way they should, maybe she will benefit from the result. And, so will Dad," she said. Her daddy gave her a look. She was indeed something special, oh my yes, he thought.

"Yes, it's me," said Candace. "Is Marian around?"

"No, she's shopping since you ask," I said.

"Good," she said.

"Candace! I mean what…?" I said. "I'm on my way to work." I glanced at the clock on the wall and I was due at 9:00am it was 8:44A.m.

"I know," she said, "but I need to talk to you, kinda just in case. I don't want you going off the deep end because I was careless."

"What? Deep end? What?" I said.

"You asked Dad not to mention to Marian the money that he offered you. He hasn't, but I might have clued her by mistake, sort of," said my Candace.

"Huh?" I said.

"I told her, before you talked to Dad really, that he wanted to talk to you about something important. Marian might have interpreted that as meaning he was going to pressure you to take a gift of money. I mean I don't know, and Marian didn't say anything to me that would indicate that that's what she thought, but, well… " she said. I was nodding.

"Okay, thanks for the heads up. At least if it does come up, I'll know in advance. That's good," I said. "Tell your dad, if he needs telling, that he's off the hook on this one. I'll shoot you instead." I was smiling, and I was also a bit concerned if not actually worried.

"Okay, Daddy, and thanks for not going off on me. I assume you were kidding about shooting me," she said, and she was also smiling. "And, Dad, I know you're heading off to work, but I'm going to be coming into the bar tomorrow maybe to talk to you. Lunch at 1:00? She said.

"Okay, that'd be good," I said. And then she was gone and so was I, but to different places.

"That was good. Your shopping this morning was not in vain," I said.

"Well, thank you for that," she said. "A woman likes to knows she's appreciated."

"Yes, well, you are," I said.

"Julian, Candace said that Blake was going to talk to you about something important. Anything interesting. I mean did he talk to you, I mean yet?" she said.

I looked over at my woman. As they say forewarned is forearmed, and I was.

"Yes, he offered me money. I told him to forget it, same as before," I said. I waited for her to say something, give me a questioning look, something. She didn't, not right away.

We were getting ready for bed, well, playtime. She smiled. "So, you told Blake we didn't want his money?" she said. Okay, now she'd said something.

"Yes," I said. She nodded. "So?" She shrugged.

"I know how it is. Yes, I would have accepted it just to make our lives easier. God knows we both deserve a break," she said. "But I am not about to make the same mistake I made before. I may be dumb but not actually stupid."

"Hmm," I said. "So long as you're okay with my decision, we're good."

"Well okay, then," she said.

"Everything okay?" said Candace, a mildly concerned Candace. I had to laugh, not too loudly, but I did have to laugh. I knew what she was about.

It was way late for lunch. It was after 2:00, but she was wanting to talk, and that about serious matters. She'd come in and ordered a beer. I guess she needed the reinforcement as well as a microwaved pastrami sandwich. I'd already eaten because she'd been so late.

"Yes, she did eventually ask me about any communication with your daddy, and I told her the straight of it. She clearly wishes I'd lighten up, but she is resigned, I guess would be the way to say it, to the reality," I said.

"Okay," said Candace, only slightly less negative as to my rejection of Blake's offer than had been Marian. "But, I'm actually here on another matter."

"Okay?" I said, now mildly negative myself, the difference being that I didn't know what about.

"Mom and you," she said. I frowned but kept my mouth shut for the moment.

"Dad?" she continued, pressing me.

"I don't understand," I said, and I didn't.

"She cries periodically over you," said Candace.

"Me too, I mean I do a lot of crying too, but likely for opposite reasons to hers," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"She cries because I cannot get over her dumping me for my brother while I was in prison," I said. "I cry because she clearly can't 'understand' why I can't get over being dumped for my brother while I was in prison." Candace nodded.

"I guess I understand," she said. "Any chance you could maybe talk to her about stuff and solve some things?"

"What things?" I said.

"You let Marian back into your life after she disappointed you," she said.

"Yes, but I didn't spend more than twenty years in prison for Marian's sake," I said.

"Point taken," she said. "Still…"

"You want me to talk to her, your mom," I said. "I mean we have been talking, but just not about that stuff."

"Yes," she said. I stared at her.

"I guess I could do that-for you," I said. "Arrange it if you want."

"I want," she said, and she did arrange it, the meeting with Ava Willis.

"You look bummed out," said Marian, as my handsome self came through the door.

"Long day, glad it's over," I said. "Got me a headache and a serious need for something from Tennessee."

"Jack as usual?" she said.

"Oh yeah," I said.

We'd been doing very good and even the love making, limited though it was by circumstances, was supper good; well, I thought so, and I think so did she. Yes, we were getting along quite nicely. I had been feeling a little down of late, and she, ever the nursemaid, did not hesitate to bother me about it.

I was on my second JD for the night, and watching a ball game: Dodgers v. the Diamondbacks. The backs were up by one run. She came in and joined me. She was holding her wine glass, Chardonnay, I think.

"You still look a little bummed out. You still got the headache?" she said.

"Yeah a little, not a big deal," I said. "It'll be gone by morning-probably." She snorted.

"Probably means you won't be much good to me tonight," she said.

"Hmm," I said. "We might be seeing about that a bit later," She giggled, but did not comment, not about that.

"Honey, I'm not an especial worrier when it comes to headaches. But you've not been your best in a while: headaches, sleeplessness. As your significant other, the key term being significant, I'm going to insist that you see the doctor. You've been kind of lax about all of that medical stuff except for taking your meds. You do, do that, but the doctor… " she said. I snorted.

"Okay, okay, I'll have myself checked out. I guess you're right. Anyhow I've been thinking about it for a while now." I said.

"Good, good," she said.

Chapter 37

It'd been but a week since Candace had made me promise to talk to my ex-fiancée. I saw the new Caddy pull up in front of the complex. Well, it looked new to me, the Caddy. Ava Willis got out and was marching, not walking, but marching up to the stairs and I was sure down the walkway to our second-floor place too. She buzzed the buzzer. I answered the Buzzer. It was Sunday, I was off. I had time to talk to the woman. The same woman who despised me as a man. I'd heard her say so in as many words.

I wondered what her game was going to be. I mean considering her military gait.

"Come in," I said. I turned and headed back inside. There was a small TV-tablette next to my rocking chair. My coffee cup was on it. She came in. I nodded my greeting. "There's a new pot in the kitchen if you want a cup." I motioned her to get her own if she wanted any. Well, I was making a statement.

"Thank you, and hello," she said, heading into the kitchen. She was maybe a full minute inside. Coming back in to me, she took a seat on the divan across from me and set her cup down on the coffee table immediately in front of her.

"Okay?" I said.

"Candace said you were willing to talk to me; I mean about important things," she said. I shrugged.

"When Candace first asked me to meet with you, at first I demurred; but then I thought, and agreed to the meet up, this meet up, because it would give me an opportunity to call you names and insult you to your face, I mean instead of behind your back, you know like you and your husband did, and likely still do, to me. You know, like you did that day at the Blue Boar," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Never mind. I'm a freak, I know it and I have come to terms with it. So anyway, what qualifies as important in your book?" I said. She paused kinda long to arrange thoughts in her brain; well, it's what it seemed like to me.

"The stuff you heard us say that day: I don't know how to start," she started.

"Yeah, by stuff you mean what you really think of me, the both of you," I said. "But now, after the fact, I'm kinda grateful to you for all of what the two of you had to say. I was kinda glad because you cleared things up for me; I mean that day."

"No!" she said. "It's not what we really think. Really!"

"You forget. I was there, I heard the tone of voice, the words, the determination, all of it."

She looked to be about to say something, but I held up my hand to short shank her for the moment.

"For the record, I need to tell you, that for those first nine years that I spent in my prison cell, I had thoughts every night of the wonderful things we, you and I, would be saying to each other and doing with each other the day, well the night, that I got out. You can believe me when I tell you, those thoughts made it possible for me to be okay. But those thoughts were way different than what I heard you saying you thought about me at the Blue Boar, way different believe me!

"Oh, and lest I forget, after that day in 1981 when he visited to let me know I'd been dumped; well, I know longer had any more of those good thoughts; well, you can imagine," I said.

"Oh my, Julian, and honestly, I have to say, about that day at the Blue Boar; I am, was, frustrated and I was taking it out on your, at the moment, absent self. I'm still frustrated," she said. "But I am also remorseful. So is Blake."

"Don't believe you and don't care," I said.

"Please, at the least allow me to beg forgiveness for what I said. And I do mean beg," she said.

"Beg all you want; I still won't believe you," I said.

"Julian, please, I was rotten that day and many other days if it comes to that, and I deserved to be punished for what I said, and for that matter what I've not said too when it comes to that."

"What you've not said?" I said.

"Yes. Julian, I love you. I loved you then, my savior, and I always will. Yes, I am faithful to my husband in thought, word and deed and those for the rest of my life; but that does not and will not ever detract one iota from the love in my heart for you. There finally, I've said what I have not said until this moment," she said.

"And I still don't believe you," I said. "And it doesn't make any difference. I'm still a freak, and I know it, and just trying to get by."

"No, I'm certain that you will not believe me; and that, is my punishment. I mean knowing you will always hate me for what I've done," she said. My turn to remain temporarily silent, to pause. She too was in pause mode.

"Hmm, hate you, do I? I suppose I do hate you, and him. Not really sure if you want to know. I try not to think about the two of you anymore, not much anyway.

"You know him visiting me a couple of weeks ago and offering me more of his monetary-tokenism really got to me. I do hate the man for doing that, insulting me like that," I said. "I deserve what I've asked for. He doesn't think so, so it's a moot point, but it is something that prays on my mind all of the time. I mean his arrogant tokenism. Just like what he said to me that awful day in 1981 prayed on my mind after he informed me that I'd been dumped."

"Twenty-million dollars is not tokenism, Julian, it's not," she said.

"Yes, it is," I said. "And it is viscerally insulting."

She was shaking her head. "He won't give you half, Julian, and yes we've talked about it him and me. But he would consider, seriously consider, a much greater amount if you would consider it from your end," she said.

"Harrumph!" I said. "And what would that be. What amount, forty million, a hundred million? Still but a miniscule inconvenience for him. Not nearly as valuable as what he took from me, and I do mean you; oh, and Candace."

"But… " she started.

"The two of you cost me twenty-two years of my life. You cost me my daughter. And you, you cost me the real, physical love of the woman that I loved enough to do what I did for her; her being you. And what does he offer me? A miniscule percentage of his money! Oh, yes, my darling Ava, it is nothing but tokenism and a scorching insult.

"You, neither of you, can ever know how bad it was in there. The beatings the rapes the loneliness the despair. And you, he, offers me nothing! Because that's what it is, his offer, nothing. Because twenty million dollars is nothing compared to what he's got in the bank. So, don't come around here trying to sell me something that is less than meaningless to him and therefore less than meaningless to me as well. It's just a bunch of crap!" I said.

"Julian, apart from money, what is it that you need or want that I might be able to provide, or Blake? Please tell me?" she said, changing the topic of discussion. I almost laughed at that: her changing the subject.

"Two things. A love of my own and my health. I've maybe got the first, so far; but I will never have the other as you well know," I said. "I'm dickless and HIV infected. How much do you think those things might be worth of the big man's money?" She was shaking her head and shrugging at the same time-weird.

"Julian, I need to be able to talk to you some more; I mean in the future. Would that be all right?" she said. I shrugged.

"I guess, so long as you stop insulting me. I'll let you know through Candace. She's the only one among you that I trust," I said. "She never lies to me, not as far as I know. It's the only thing I can still depend on. If I lose that…"

"You won't lose it; she won't betray you; she's actually told me as much," she said. I nodded. I actually believed that Candace had said the like to her.

"We talked a while longer. She mentioned the little kids. Said she would like to have me and Marian over for the next big holiday: The Fourth of July. And, a few other things she thought I would be interested to hear about. Then she was gone.

"So?" said Blake.

"He's not at all interested in our 'token' payment. It's either half or nothing, and I'm of the opinion he hopes it's nothing so that we can continue to suffer; I could be wrong," said Ava.

"No, you're not wrong. Did you tell him he could name his own number?" he said.

"Yes, well kinda. I told him you'd consider any sane number that he could live with: forty, fifty million. But like I said, for him, it's either half or nothing; and he means it," she said.

"Jesus!" said Blake. "Like you said, he's only interested in an amount that would make us suffer, and that, as much as possible. He's in it for revenge. I don't exactly blame him, but he could not handle half, or anything close to it. He's an ex-convict, and the politicians alone would be looking to take all of it, the money, and send him back inside to boot. I know the game."

"Blake, there is something else," she said. He gave her a look.

"Okay?" he said.

"He's not well. I mean I'm not a doctor, but there is something going on with him, seriously," she said.

"He didn't say anything, I mean about being ill, or having been ill?" he said.

"No, but even if there were something going on; he wouldn't tell us; I'm sure of that," said Ava.

"Maybe we could touch base with Marian? I mean, whaddya think?" he said. She nodded.

"Yes, that might be one way to go," she said. "I mean just in case."

My woman, Marian Carton, and I would not be marrying: it was not in the cards for us, not for me for sure: trust was necessary. I was not sure that trust, unadulterated trust, was ever again going to be possible for me.

On the other side of the coin, she had been after me to go to the doctor and now I was. I hated waiting rooms and I had been sitting in this one for almost an hour. I'd already filled out the usual forms, and answered all of the questions on the forms, one of which was related to my HIV meds; there were three I was currently taking and likely always would be. I wondered how they'd react to that. This was a new clinic for me.

A nurse came out from the inner sanctum and called my name. "Mister Willis?" she said. I rose and came to her.

I followed her into the hallway and she weighed me. She had me follow her into an exam room, took my numbers, and a vial of blood-a quart at least-and asked me to wait. I waited. It was only a few minutes until a very pretty woman with a stethoscope around her neck entered. She smiled.

"Mister Willis, I'm Dr. Jezzel Winstrom," she said. Over the next minutes she asked me more questions than were usual or so I thought. Probably a reaction to my HIV meds.

"Well, Mister Willis, we will be in touch with you soon, within the next week or so, especially since you are and have been HIV positive for so long a period," she said.

"Okay?" I said. "So, no change in my meds or anything?"

"Not at this time. But, as I say, we will be getting back to you shortly," she said. We talked a little longer and then I was sent on my way.

I checked out at the front desk, got the ream of papers doctors' offices and clinics always handed out, and went home.

Leona had covered for me since I'd had a doctor's appointment: well, she coveted the overtime, so it was win-win. Morton was covering the late show these days. Normally it was Hank and me till 5:00, and Leona and Morton doing the late show during the week with weekends being a mish-mash of scheduling depending on need.

Chapter 38

As I came through the front door, I saw that Marian was waiting for me. "So, any news?" she said.

"No, nothing yet. They'll get back to me in a few days. The doctor was nice," I said, "very good looking."

"Hmm, I'm sure," she said. I think she was actually a little jealous, very little, but a little.

And we had to wait. It was six days before I heard again from the doctor's office. I was asked to come in. I sighed. Another half a life time in the waiting room. But Leona was smiling; she was making more money and she apparently needed it. She had a little boy, seven or eight years-old I guessed, to take care of.

I arrived at the doctor's office right on time, and the receptionist actually summoned me right away; I mean as soon as I came through the doorway. I mean no waiting in the lobby? This could not be good.

I'd been seated in the exam room for no more than a few minutes when the good doctor Winstrom entered. She was not smiling. I was getting a really hinky feeling.

She sat and stared at me for maybe five seconds. "Mister Willis, sometimes these kinds of things do happen after a significant period of time," she said.

"Okay?" I said.

"Mister Willis, you were in prison as I understand it," she said. "But you were released about five or six years ago?"

"Yes," I said, "1994."

"Mister Willis, you have developed an infection in the brain. It's serious, but treatable." she said. All of a sudden, I felt sick. "That's why the headaches and the sleeplessness you been suffering."

"Damn," I said. "But you said treatable."

"Yes. Sometimes the side effects from the medications can trigger unintended consequences. This is one of those times. We will be changing one of your medications and altering the dosage of the others. It is more than important that you follow instructions. This is the brain, Mister Willis, no wiggle room. Again, Mister Willis, following the directions, that the nurse will give you a hard copy of, is essential," said Doctor Winstrom. I was nodding. At least I didn't have full blown AIDS or some other disastrous complication. I sure as hell didn't need any of that being added to my problems with the Laughlin Willis'. I had a thought.

"Doctor, there is one thing I would like to request. I really and truly mean this. I want my records sealed. I don't want anyone to be able to access my records. Really," I said. "If the goddamn Congress of the United States want 'em, tell 'em to fuck off! Okay?" She seemed shocked at my tone if not my words per se.

"Okay, Mister Willis, I will see to that," she said.

I wondered how long it would take for the bad guys to find out, even with my records sealed. I figured they'd buy somebody to find out. He was real good at buying people.

I wondered how they'd react after they did find out that my med situation was becoming complicated. I knew how they'd react: I would be swamped with a sea of pity: just exactly what I did not want any part of-damn it!

But maybe this once I'd get lucky and they wouldn't find out. Wouldn't that be the cat's meow. The thought actually made me feel kinda good, it was relative. But then reality appeared as a mental specter to ruin my positive thoughts. Could this be a prelude to me getting the real bad thing? Hell yes, it could, and I was scared. I really didn't want to die, not of AIDS. Shit. I had to think.

The drive to Turtle Park was only about four miles. I found a shady table to plant myself and ruminate. The day was sunny and warm, well it was still summer for a couple more weeks; a few months more and it would be the year 2000. Years came and went in my life all without a lot of meaningfulness, not for me.

I thought about how my death would affect the lot of them, and maybe especially Marian. I remembered our high school days, and how she'd fucked me over at the prom. It seemed childish now, but that bit of high school rejection on her part had literally led to everything that was going on now, and, at base, led to my time in prison. It really was true that a stone thrown into the ocean sent ripples around the world.

I wondered if I had in the end gotten handed a death sentence, because of this HIV thing. I wondered if I would have any final maudlin meeting with Ava before I expired? I sure didn't cotton to being part of a room full of tears and sadness and forlorn what-could-have-been-ness. And yet, a moment of tender goodbye-ness… Jesus what a mess! I was not ready for any of that. But the good doctor had said whatever it was that was going on was treatable. I just had to hope that it would be treated successfully. But the fact was I had no control over any of it, not really.

A couple of hours later I found myself parking in my usual spot at our place, Marian's and mine. My eyes were dried out, and I was ready to give her a slightly modified and positive version of my appointment.

I had to work, and visitors from Laughlin had stopped coming by for the short run, well, two months was a short run: it was December, 26th,1999. I was kinda surprised. Especially after the pressurized meeting with Ava. I had thought I'd be getting more: visits and pressure that is. But I hadn't, not even for Christmas, though we had been invited for Christmas dinner and for Thanksgiving too; we'd made our excuses per both and demurred.

Marian had bought into my explanation, relating to my doctor's appointment, that I'd had the flu, but that I was fine though I needed to be careful. And I was determined to be careful at the least.

"Blake Willis had kept his promise to his wife and did the digging as to his brother's health, and what he'd found, actually Regis, Jacob Paskin's man, had found, was worrisome. He was sitting in the dark tapping his fingers on the table in the mansion's library. Ava Willis was on her way home from the doctor's where the twins had gotten their flu shots. He figured another half hour.

Oops, he'd figured wrong. She came in smiling. "The kids have been shot," she laughed. "They are healthy and immunized." He tried to smile, but his efforts were futile. "Why the darkened room? It's nice out." The kids had run outside to play.

He didn't answer her, not right then.

"Blake?" she said, noting his demeanor.

He looked over at her. He had been looking away. "That's good news," he said.

"Yes, well yes," she said. "But you seem less than thrilled about it."

"Jacob called. His man got what we asked for, what, a couple of months ago," he said.

"Oh no," said Ava, not yet even knowing exactly what, but sensing, that there was a problem, a big problem.

"He's sick, and no not AIDS," he said. "It's an infection, the bad kind. He is being treated, but Jacob's sources say he, Julian, has to be real careful, that's 'real' with a capital R."

"Huh?" said a stunned Ava. "But…"

"He'd sealed his records, so it took a little time, and oh, it cost a thousand dollars to get what we were looking for," he said. "He's good for now. Good being a relative term."

"Oh my God!" she said. "Does Candace know?"

"Not yet. I've only known for a few hours. That's why the darkened room. I needed to think."

"Blake, we have to do something. There must be something… " she started.

"I've already got Jacob on it, and it does look good," he said. "But, caution is the watchword."

"And, he doesn't know that we know, right?" she said. "And Marian?"

"No, and I don't know. She may be in the know, but knowing our man, I kinda doubt it, but bottom line, I just don't know, not yet," he said. "But it's just an infection for now. His tiredness, his headaches, all symptoms of the problem."

"I'm going to talk to her. I know he won't talk to me, not willingly. But her, maybe," she said. Her husband shrugged.

"Can't hurt, I guess," he said. "Go for it." She was nodding.

She drove by the bar. His car was in the lot. He was working. Good, she'd be home alone.

She'd parked and went up to the apartment and knocked. The door opened.

"Ava," said a surprised Marian.

"Yes, can I come in?" she said.

"Yes, sure, come in," said Marian. Ava could tell from her demeanor that she, Marian, was not in the know. This was going to be awkward.

"Have a seat," said Marian. "Coffee?" It was 11:00am

"Uh, yes," said Ava. Marian went to get it. She returned in under a minute.

"The coffee's good," said Ava, not knowing how to start.

"Thanks," said Marian. "But…"

"Yes, well, I, Blake and I, came into some information. I would like to talk to you about it if that's all right," said Ava.

"Okay?" said Marian.

"Look, Marian, we know that the man is not well," said Ava.

"Not well? Whaddya mean. He's had a flu bug, but he's okay overall," said Marian, confirming without confirming that she was totally in the dark about the big thing.

Ava, reached for her cup of coffee and took another sip. She sank back in her seat. "You really don't know, do you?" she said.

"Know? Know what?" said Marian. She was becoming worried.

"We love your man, Marian, we do. He's sick really sick, a serious infection, and we want to do what we can. He has to let us," said Ava.

"Missus Willis, what are you talking about," said Marian.

Marian who had not touched her own coffee, did now, shakily. A look of horror creased her features. "No!" she said, beginning to tear up.

"It's true. We are as sick about it as you are, believe me," said Ava.

"That's why he shined on going to your place for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I knew there had to be a better reason than the bullshit he was telling me," said Marian.

"We need your help," said Ava. "We need to convince him that our money can be useful in preventing him getting worse or anymore complications. Please."

"Yes, but the man… " said Marian

"I know, trust me I know," said Ava.

The conversation between the two women lasted more than an hour.

"Okay then, that's how we'll handle it. I just wish the two of you were married. But we'll work that out some way," said Ava. Her friend, her new friend, was nodding

Returning home after work, I realized that something was different. Marian was neither happy nor unhappy; she was concerned, something. I realized then, that she knew.

"How did you find out?" I said, pinning her and bringing the question to the surface.

"A better question is why you did not tell me?" she said. They stared at each other.

"Because there is nothing you can do about it, and I didn't want you to worry for the next year or more, until I got it under control," I said. "Now, your turn."

"A year!" she said, ignoring his question.

"Yes, could be, according to the doctor. But answer my question, Marian, please."

"Blake learned from Ava that you weren't looking too good. She suggested he have you, well, checked out. He did, and well… " she said.

"My records were sealed," I said. I was angry-at the doctor!

"Yes, but he's rich; he can find out things. You wanna ruin the doctor or some nurse or whomsoever; well, then you're not the man I thought you were," she said.

"That right?" I said. "I'm not the man you thought I was? And just who was that?"

"Well, a man who would do anything to help someone else," she said.

"Well, then maybe you should move out and find yourself someone a little higher up the worthy of admiration scale," I said. "Because, I'm just an ordinary guy, making an ordinary living, and trying not to bother anybody or stick my nose in their business."

"Look Julian, I didn't mean anything by what I said," she said.

"But you said it," I said. "You want this place or are you going to move out?"

"Huh?" she said.

"I'm clearly not up to your standards, so I'm gone. I don't need your insults or your advice on who or what I should or should not be willing to put up with. I got enough of that in the joint. I ain't gonna put up with it anymore," I said.

"Look, you're right. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," she said. "Will you forgive me; I mean this once?" I nodded, slowly, reluctantly, but I think I was also sneering. She shivered. The irony in that, if it was ironic, was that I didn't care.

"Thank you, really," she said.

Chapter 39

It was two days before New Year's, 2000. We'd gotten a card. We were invited to dinner on New Year's Day. Oddly, I hadn't gotten anything from the Nevadans: messages, calls, cards since they found out. Strange. But now of course I had. We had.

"So, are we going after all?" she said.

"You can, but I'm not. Tell them, I'm feeling a little down," I said. "It'll give them something to talk about. Oh, and you can tell them I'm not suing the doctor for revealing the info in my sealed records," I said. "They'll no doubt feel relieved about that. I know you will."

"Julian, please. I really didn't mean it the way it must have sounded," she said. "And, no, I am not going if you're not. You're my man, and I need to be with you not them or anybody else."

The thing was I kinda believed her, but it still rankled, oh my, yes it did.

"Hmm, okay then, please let them know we're not coming. We'll maybe go out ourselves and celebrate the new year.

"Yes, of course," she said.

"Does he know you came over here?" said Blake.

"He told me it was up to me to tell you we won't be coming for dinner, so yes, sort of," said Marian.

"Not coming," said Blake. "Well, I guess we could have predicted that. You guys, what will you be doing?"

"Nothing really. We are going out for dinner, but on New Year's Eve not the day," she said.

"Well, Ava will be upset," he said.

"He did say that he wouldn't be suing the doctor for giving out his sealed medical stuff. And, he was mad about that, like I told you," she said. "When I told him, well, what I told him, he almost kicked me out."

"What? Why?" he said.

"Basically, because after Ava told me that you knew about his illness, I took your side as to your being willing to help him. He does not want you to be involved with any of it. He is adamant about that. He will only deal with the doctor himself. He wants no help even from me; and nothing at all from you guys for damn sure," she said.

"He is punishing us and it's him that's in the wrong on that score; but I do kinda see where he is coming from," said Blake.

"Yes," she said.

"Did he say where you would be going for dinner?" he said.

"No, I don't think he'd even decided that at the time. Maybe somewhere nice here in Laughlin, but no, he didn't say," she said. The man nodded.

"Okay, let me know if anything changes or if he would be willing to see or talk to us," he said.

"Okay, will do," she said.

Well, New Year's '00 was now a couple of months behind us. While doctor Winstrom had never said anything about AIDS per se, it was clear to me that my "infection" had been a warning sign. The new meds and regs relating to them, were helping. I wasn't having trouble sleeping anymore and the headaches were mostly gone. I guess I was on the mend.

"Is the man still working at the bar?" said Ava.

"Yes, of course, he never stopped. He did take a day off after his doctor's visit, more because of worry than disability," said Marian. "I think the worst of it is over. He's going to be fine. He'll need to be careful, more even than before, but he will be." Ava sighed.

"Well, that's a relief. I was so afraid that his HIV had developed into full blown AIDS," she said.

"Yes, well me too," said Marian. Ava Willis sighed.

"What?" said Marian, noting the other woman's look.

"Nothing. But if the man had died or was about to die. I don't know what I would have done or thought or, well, done," said Ava. "It's all been so hard, I mean his situation: for us as well as for him. But… " Marian nodded.

"Yes, I guess so," she said. "But harder for him. And all of the drama…"

"Yes, I'm sure that's so. I would never deny that." said Ava.

"Yes. It's been crazy, and always will be so long as… " said Marian, and stopped, before she voiced the unvoiceable.

"Yes, as long as he's alive. His despair, temper, his crazy demand for half of everything. It's been so hard. And, I'm not blaming him. It was all my fault in the end, but, again, it has been hard, especially for me and Blake. We talk about him in bed sometimes. I mean him being the way he is; I mean without his manhood. I often feel guilty when Blake and I do it; Blake feels guilty doing it too. It's hard," said Ava. "And, you said it best, added to everything else, all of the drama."

"Yes, but everything considered, I sure am glad he's okay or seems to be," said Marian. "Anyway, we just go on and do our best."

"Yes, as long as he survives. We'll be okay; we have to be. Things will get better soon. I mean I hope things will get better," said Ava.

"Yes, me too," said Marian.

"Where is the man. I mean he went for his walk, but… " said Ava.

"Yes, he walks a couple of miles a day anymore. Says it makes him feel good to get the old juices roiling," said Marian. "He'll be back soon."

Marian was right. I did walk a good ways every day or almost every day anymore. But I'd gotten back from my midday postprandial some twenty minutes gone. I'd plopped down on the couch rather than join them on the patio. They were still out there yakking, yakking about me. The sliding door was open. I'd heard what they were saying.

The good news was they'd not noticed me coming in. The bad news, while they did not wish me dead; they also allowed that it would make things infinitely easier on them were I to be so. Yes, they cared about what happened to me, but neither of them really loved me, especially Ava; that, was more than clear. And that reality hurt me, bad hurt me; that I'd actually known that particular truth for a long time notwithstanding; she didn't have to keep saying it to people.

Now I had a decision to make: inform them that I'd overheard part of their conversation or not inform them. They made the decision for me. They came in, saw me, and realized I'd had to have heard them.

"Julian!" said Ava. I smiled, weakly, but I did smile.

"Yes, I would have joined you out there," I nodded toward the patio, "but I was kinda gassed after my walk, so I just plopped down here."

"How long…?" said Marian.

"Long enough. Well, long enough to learn that the two of you didn't actually want me dead. That's a plus, right?" I said.

"Julian, don't read anything negative into our woman talk. Please," said Ava. I shrugged.

"I won't. I've known for a long time that you never loved me, Ava. And, I guess neither did, do, you, Marian. It kinda hurts hearing you say stuff. But really, I have no illusions. I have nothing to offer a woman, so find love, me find love… " I said. "Not likely to ever happen. I know it. I absolutely know it."

"Julian, I do love you. Yes, things are hard given everything, but I do love you and no one else. We need each other. We do!" said Marian.

"Whatever, but maybe you can get your friend here to let you shack up at their place until you get a job. I need to have you gone by the time I get home. I'm going to the bar for a few hours. I need a drink and I need you to be gone, I really mean it. Please be gone when I get back. Please," I said.

I rose and walked out. I'd give her a couple of hours maybe three or four. I wondered if she would, leave that is. If she didn't, I would be getting me a new place, I'd motel it for the next few nights, while I looked for something more permanent. But all said and done. I was alone again, and actually feeling kind of relieved. I'd be alone again and lonely, but I was done with hoping for a break. Breaks were something that just would not be happening for me of that I was dead-mortal certain.

They were yelling for me to come back as I made my way across the parking lot to my Impala. I didn't even have an overnight bag. Well, if she did leave, I wouldn't be needing one. I sure hoped she would, leave that is. I needed her gone. The both of them gone.

I wasn't quite drunk. I knew that for sure, because it turned out I was right; there were still two women in my place. No, not Ava and Marian, no indeed. It was Ava and Candace. Whew! At least I wasn't totally wasted.

"So what?" I said. "You two moving in? What?"

"Not funny, mister," said Ava. "Marian's heart is broken, and yes, she will be staying with us until you get your act together and allow her to come back and be with you."

"Hmm, my act together," I said. "Hmm."

"Yes, Daddy, Mom is right; Marian's heart is broken. You are way over reacting to what was said, and yes, I heard all about it," said Candace.

"Over reacting you say. Over reacting because I heard them say they were glad I wasn't dead- yet. Or, overreacting because I am such a cause of drama and other problems because I'm still alive? Which are you referring to?" I said.

"Julian! We, neither Marian nor I, meant to imply that we would be better off if you were dead. We did not" she insisted.

"I was here. I heard the tone of voice, the pregnant pauses in the conversation. No, I will grant that you, neither of you implied that you would be glad if I were to die. But I also know for certain that you, at least you Ava, would breathe easier if I did. Yes, you'd mourn me. Then, you'd forget me, in the main, and that hurts. Believe it," I said. "It hurts a lot!" And I started to sob my despair.

"Oh my God, Julian, you can't really believe that! No way can you actually believe that!" said Ava.

"Oh, but I can and I do. And it's not just what I heard today, Ava darling. It is so many things: the conversation at the Blue Boar, the monetary tokenism, the broken promises; you know like the one where you swore before God to be there for me when I got out of prison. Do you remember saying that to me? I mean saying that you promised before God that you'd be there for me. Do you? Do you remember!" I said. She looked down.

"Julian… " she started.

"And when I got out, two years after I got out, there was the final straw. I found out, finally found out, that I had a daughter. A daughter who doesn't love me. Doesn't love me, as she says, because she doesn't know me. She adores me but doesn't love me. What do those even mean!

"Oh, and just to be clear here, Candace, you're that daughter!" I said.

"Daddy, please," she said, "I have come to love you. I have."

"And I know that why, how…?" I said.

"Daddy, it is true, I did say I didn't love you when I first found out the truth about my parentage. It did take time to come to grips with things. But I have. I do love you. You are my only daddy, father, all of it," she said. "My uncle Blake is a wonderful man and a good man. But there is nobody like you in the whole world. And I am so proud to be your daughter. You just have to let me, be your daughter that is."

The look on my ex-fiancée's face, said it all: this was all news to her. But she did not gainsay her daughter, not yet at any rate.

"Julian, give Marian another chance. Please?" said Ava. I ignored her request for the moment.

"Does your uncle know about this? I mean your thinking as per my daddyhood?" I said, addressing Candace.

"He will shortly," she said.

"Okay then, as to Marian. If she wants," I said.

"Oh, thank you, Julian. I cannot…"

"Just tell her to come home. Like I say, if she wants," I said.

"Okay, okay," said Ava.

We talked a little longer then the visitors left and I was alone again. I wondered how long it would take Marian to return.

"So, how did it go?" said Blake. Ava shrugged.

"Good and bad," said Candace, taking the lead. "He wants Marian to return, but he wants momma to die. My words his meaning."

"Where is Marian?" said Ava.

"Upstairs, she hasn't stopped crying since she got here," he said.

"I'm going up to see her, talk to her," said Ava. Blake nodded.

"Daddy the door," said Candace, as Ava trudged up the stairs with her news.

"Bea," said Candace, answering the door.

"Yes, your dad called. What's going on?" said Bea.

"Bea, just in time," said Blake.

"Okay?" said Bea.

Over the next while Bea got the long version of the day's happenings.

"So, Marian maybe okay, but Ava no?" said Bea.

"Maybe. But I have an idea. And, I think it will work for us. I hope it will," said Blake.

"Daddy?" said Candace.

"Daddy?" he said.

"I mean uncle Blake," said Candace correcting herself.

"Your move today was brilliant. But you can screw it up royally unless you mean it," he said. "I can live with it because the man deserves to be recognized as your dad. And I will be one beloved uncle no matter what, right?"

"For sure," said Candace.

"Can I ask, have you been thinking about this move by you. I mean giving him exclusive fatherhood?" he said. Bea looked over at the younger woman clearly anxious to hear.

"Kinda off and on," said Candace. "And I was telling him straight that I had come to love him. I hadn't voiced it to him yet, but I had." Blake and Bea were nodding.

"Okay, and I have an idea of my own. With what you did and what Julian has done agreeing to make up with Marian; we may have the formula," he said. "It's not a for sure thing, but it is a likely thing. He has to see the logic of my proposal, but…"

"Dad!" said Candace.

The talking and scheming went on for a little while as Blake Willis laid out his idea to the throng. Ava and Marian had joined the group and a feeling of group purpose filled the room.

Chapter 40

Well, it ended up taking her thirteen hours to get back to me. She actually knocked on the door. I mean she still had her key, but… I answered the buzz.

"You've got a key," I said.

"I just wasn't, well, sure," she said.

"Marian, we both have a lot of downsides. Me way more than you; I mean if one gets down to it. I'm in the position of actually needing to take a chance, but on you not the others. I don't hate them; get that. But I don't give a shit about them either; well, except for Candace and maybe Bea," I said.

"I understand. You do have a case to make. Truthfully though, I hope that someday the rift between them and us, and I do mean us, will be fixed and we can all be a family. It's what I hope for and I hope that at some point it will be what you will hope for," she said. I gave her a look that she didn't call me on.

"I'm supposed to ask you to talk to Blake. He says he has a proposal to make that he thinks you can live with. And no, I don't have the details, but it sounds like it's big, and, maybe fair," she said.

"Hah, more tokenism," I said, expressing my doubts.

"No, no, I don't think so," she said. "I'm pretty sure he knows better than to try that with you. I mean again."

"Okay, I'll see him. But in truth I expect it to be a very short meeting," I said. She was nodding.

"Okay, I'll let him know," she said. It seemed odd on some level that my woman, and I guess she was still that, had become kinda the intermediary between us and the other guys, but she had.

Ava Willis was shaking her head. "The man is my savior, and he's an idiot. He actually thinks I do not, not only appreciate him, but actually love him! Okay, I don't sexually, but in every other way I do, Bea, I do!" said Ava. "And in case there is the slightest doubt in anyone's mind, Blake feels the same way!"

"Too many things for him to consider and account for, Ava. I think it was a major mistake for Blake to visit him in '81 and break the news to him. After that he had to spend thirteen more years despairing of having any kind of life. Add to that what happened to him with that gang attack, well… " said Bea. Ava nodded.

"I guess you're right. We wanted to be there for him; but also up front with him. But I can understand why he didn't see things that way. I can," she said. "I'm just praying that Blake's idea works. He's praying it does too. Could he, we, be wasting our time? I don't know, but I do hold out hope that this might be the time, late in the game though it is."

"Yes, late in the game. That's what it is all right," said Bea. "Ava, a word of unasked for advice if I may."

"Of course," said Ava.

"In the future, if the subject of Julian comes up in any conversation where he is not present, pretend, imagine, that he is present. No more questionable or negative remarks about him for any reason. He won't be able to handle anymore, and that's if you, we, any of us, get the chance to be his friend again let alone family," she said. Ava nodded.

"You are so right. No more stupidity on my part, none," she said.

She saw the man sitting at a concrete picnic table near a tree but some distance from the river. It was a relatively cool day for mid-April. He was watching the ducks and other birds play. She smiled. Her used-to-be man always had liked the birds, especially the ducks. She lost the smile. This meeting, impromptu though it was, was for all of the marbles-well-maybe. She approached him from behind.

"Hi Julian," she said. My head snapped around.

"Ava!" I said. "What are you doing here?"

"Saw your car as I drove by. Figured you might be kicking back, it being Sunday. Marian?"

"She's at home. So, the question remains what are you doing here?" I said. I was not being nice.

"I'm sorry, Julian, for about a million things. I do love you my man. I just wish I could go back and make things right, everything right," she said.

"Go back? You mean before I lost my manhood? Is that what you mean?" I said. I could see I'd stung her. I felt good.

"I mean before everything, but especially before you were arrested and saved me from a life sentence in prison. I've spent a lot of nights thinking about your sacrifices, all of them, really," she said.

"Hah, I've spent a lot of time thinking about them too, my sacrifices. I guess we have something in common after all," I said.

"Along with a daughter," she said, playing her hole card.

"You mean the one you gave away to my brother," I said.

"No, I did not give her to him. He did raise her. He did do right by her. I know you know that. But she was always your baby not his not any other man's," she said. I snorted.

"You're a good sales person, Ava, but you trying to sell hay to a night-mare is not within even your wondrous skill set," I said.

"She does love you, Julian. You heard her. She meant it. She also loves her uncle, but you have first place. How could you not?" she said.

"Ava, Marian and I get along. We've done a lot of talking this past couple of months. Like I say we get along. Her with her no tits. Me with my no dick. We don't have anything worth mentioning. But I took her back. You wanna know why?" I said.

"Okay," she said.

"Because there isn't anyone else for us, any other man for her, and any other woman who would waste their time on a nothing freak like me. But, well, Marian is willing to do that.

"The only woman, Ava, that I can ever really love is you. I know you know it and it kills me to see you with the other guy. And it kills me even more to think about you guys doing each other every night, and talking about me which I am sure you do a lot," I said. "Tell me you don't!"

"Okay, we do talk about you sometimes, that's true. But not as often as you might think, and never do we talk smack about you. Honestly," she said. I was nodding.

"Hmm," I said.

"Really, Julian, I am not snowing you, really. Frankly, I wouldn't dare, not anymore. But…"

"But?" I said.

"If I may, Julian. You need to love your new woman. She's pretty. She's faithful. And, I think she loves you, or if not, she's trying to love you. Or maybe learning to love you. Really," said Ava.

"I am trying to love her. And maybe I will one day. I don't know. But there is still you, always around always inadvertently, I guess, rubbing my nose in it," I said.

"Julian, forget me. Yes, I'll be around. We're family, not lovers, no, but family. And, I am not trying to rub your nose in it. Please," she said. She sounded desperate. I stared.

"Forget you? Ava, had you and I been married that Valentine's Day in '72, and had you cheated on me and dumped me say a couple of years later. I could have rationalized that. Guys, and women too, get cheated on and dumped all the time.

"But that's not what happened to me, Ava. I spent twenty-two years in a cage, raped often, beaten often, tortured to the extent of having my dick cut off by serious bad guys. And in the middle of all of that I was informed that the reason I had willingly, even cheerfully, endured what I was enduring had been taken away from me. You cannot possibly imagine the despair…

"And none of that even takes into consideration that my child, one I did not even know existed, was taken from me too. You left me with nothing but a desperate, hopeless, longing for a night in bed with you. That longing Ava, has never left me, never waned. It still hasn't. I mean you have no idea," I said. "How am I supposed to forget all of that. How? Tell me how!"

"My God, Julian. I would do anything to make things right. I know that maybe that's the impossible dream, but it is my dream, Julian, really," she said.

"Yeah, well if you figure a way, let me know," I said. "Now if you will let me and my friends over there," I nodded toward the ducks, "alone for a while I'd be appreciative." She nodded, rose, turned, and left.

Marian had indeed arranged a meet up with Blake for whatever reason. She supposed that it would be something good for me, for us. I wanted to laugh, but I was holding out to discover if I'd even have a reason to laugh.

We were to meet at the Blue Boar. I thought that symbolic, no reason, but it seemed symbolic to me.

It was April 23rd. It was 6:38pm I was twenty minutes early. I already had my JD in front of me. I sipped slowly, patiently, and waited. He'd be on time; I was sure of that. I wasn't exactly clock watching but I was glancing periodically up at the clock.

It was 6:55, he was five minutes early. He came up to my booth. He stood, and stared for a brief moment.

"Have a seat at the table of impossible dreams," I said. And, yes, I was borrowing a page from Ava's wordology, speech, whatever. He took the seat.

"You say half, half of everything?" he said. and it was a question. I nodded.

"Yes, and not a dime less," I said.

"Nor a dime more?" he said, and it was another question. "And that would solve everything?"

"Yes, not a dime more, and it would solve things. Everything? Maybe," I said.

"I specifically mean how you feel about and deal with Ava?" he said.

"I will always love her and wish it were me in bed with her at night instead of you. I'm sure she's told you about our conversation at Turtle Park. But in terms of dealing with her, yes, we'd be good," I said.

"Ava's my wife now, Julian. She does have feelings for you, but not those feelings. You need to develop those with your woman. She's as pretty as Ava, tits or no tits," he said. I ignored his words.

"So, what is it we are supposed to be meeting about exactly," I said. "You mentioned the half…"

"If at the end of this meeting, you still feel the same, are still demanding the same, I will give it to you; or whatever else will satisfy you. Okay?" he said. "But you have to hear me out."

"Okay," I said. "I guess I can agree to that."

"Okay. You have maybe a vague idea of how much money I control, that's control, not have in my checking account. Right?" he said.

"I guess, don't know what the difference is, but I guess I will now," I said. "For the record just how much is that?

"Something like nine billion. A little less actually, but close," he said. I nodded. It's what Candace had told me a long while back.

"Okay," I said.

"I control several properties, stock and bond portfolios, interests in business ventures and the like. To handle all of that, I have a staff of some eleven employees. They watch the markets, manage suits, that's law suits-Jacob whom you know fairly well-is my main man in those respects; and well, a ton of stuff that requires my personal attention several times a month and occasionally several times a week.

"If I actually do give you half of everything, you would need to be doing a lot of the same, and it does require a lot of knowing. Knowing about how to manage that kind of business and the people you will need to be dealing with.

"I will tell you right out: you don't have a clue. You will need to hire a staff that does know and hope they are reliable and not into ripping you off. I can help you there, but I will not be into running your businesses for you; that would be you and you alone.

"But then there are my liquid assets. That is the portion of my money that I actually do have in what amounts to my personal and available 'at a moment's notice' checking accounts. Of the nine billion, a bit over a billion of the total is liquid, how much exactly changes from day to day.

"So, do you still want half of everything, or would you settle for half of the liquid assets. Your choice, and it's my final, and very fair, offer. I have Jacob and my primary banker waiting for my call and your decision," he said. He'd literally rocked me back on my heels.

"I guess, given my health situation and what I'm sure would be one helluva steep learning curb, I will settle for half of the liquid assets. I'd argue the point if I was younger and healthier, but well, I'm neither," I said, "so I guess I have to settle."

"Okay," he said. He rose, walked off a few feet, and made a call. He returned.

"Well?" I said.

"We have to go. My banker is waiting for us," he said. I was smiling inside. I actually couldn't wait to get to the bank.

The time at the banker's was lengthy, but not unduly so. I threw a monkey wrench into the proceedings at one point surprising both Blake and the banker. I asked to speak to the banker alone and sign the documents alone. Blake looked me askance, but didn't argue. It was his banker; he had no problem trusting him. Oh, and I had no problem surprising him, the banker.

Oh, and the amount officially tendered me was six-hundred and thirty-one million dollars.

It wouldn't be long before the man, Blake, would be coming to see me. Of that there was not a shred of doubt. Well, two days wasn't long in my view.

He didn't even push the buzzer. He pounded on the door. I actually took offense at that.

"And the buzzer was too far technologically advanced for you" I said, answering the door.

"I was making a statement," he said.

"Hmm," I said.

"All that shit over all these years for this!" he said.

"Changed my mind is all. What's your beef? You won't even miss that amount," I said.

"Where's Marian. I wanna talk to her," he said.

"She's gone. We broke up," I said.

"Wha… what!" he said.

"I gave her the money, most of it, and sent her on her way. Neither of us were actually in love. She knew it. I knew it. We were just settling. So… " I said.

"Jesus, Julian, what are you thinking," he said, his tone empathetic or maybe sympathetic; I wasn't sure which.

"Just go on your way, Blake. You've got your family. I've got my job and a few bucks now. I'm good. your good. Just let me be. Okay?" I said. "I really don't think that's too much to ask." He sank into the chair near the patio door and sighed.

"Why?" he said. My turn to sigh.

"After the banker explained everything to me, I had an epiphany. My med care was included along with the six-hundred mother-in-law, and I realized that all I really wanted was enough to make Marian secure. So, I gave her the one million and kept the eighty-three-grand and the med care thing and let it go at that. It's enough for me. That's all I'm going to say. Please," I said. He was shaking his head.

"You're nuts, but okay. You know you'll be getting a visit maybe a couple of them from the women," he said. I shrugged.

"It won't change anything, but yeah, I figured I would," I said. he nodded. We had a couple of beers after that and a little more talk. Then he was gone.

Chapter 41

Blake and I had had our little conversation in late April. It was now late June of 2000, a new millennium. Ant it was hot in the desert. He'd opined that the women would be bothering me. They hadn't, yet. But now one of them was coming into the bar. It was a Wednesday. Oh, neither Ava nor Candace was the woman coming in. No, it was Bea.

"A tap," she said. I went to get it. She paid.

"So?" I said. "It's been a while."

"Yes, and I know you've essentially been abandoned, well, sort of," said Bea. "Ava actually sent me. She's afraid to come herself."

"Huh?" Why?" I said.

"She says her being around is kinda like rubbing your nose in it. Well, it's what she thinks," said Bea. I snorted.

"It is and it isn't. Anything else?" I said.

"Candace will be by. She's living the dream. Married, working, going to school, and well, busy."

"All of them are shocked that you sent Marian packing. Me too," she said.

"That's not true. She and I decided to split up because we simply were just not in love. We were, and we still are, in 'like' but not love. She moved back to Phoenix. Well, that's what she told me that she was going to do," I said.

"Yes, well she did do that. I also hear she has a boyfriend, and no it's not that Carton guy," said Bea.

"Well, that's good," I said.

"You up for dinner tonight?" she said, "with me."

"Huh?" I said.

"You wanna have dinner with me, tonight?" she repeated.

"Bea, no offense, but really, I'm not looking to hook up," I said. "I ain't got nothing a woman would want. I did once I think, but those days are long in the past."

"I didn't say I wanted to go to bed with you. I asked if you would like to have dinner with me. Sheesh!" she said.

"Oh, well okay, I guess," I said. "I mean I just…"

"I know, you're just depressed and down on yourself and believe, wrongly in my opinion, that you have nothing to offer a woman. You're wrong. But tonight, is not about hooking up. You'll have to be asking me some other time if you want to try your luck along those lines," she said. I shrugged.

"Okay," I said.

The Golden Nugget wasn't overly crowded; well, it was Wednesday night. We got a booth and ordered.

"So, what should we talk about?" I said.

"Well, there are a hundred things. But, can I ask, and it is just a matter of curiosity; why did you turn down the money. I hear it was a lot more than the million you did accept," she said.

"Basically, because I didn't need it. I took the million for Marian's sake. If she doesn't hook up with that asshole ex of hers, she should be all right. I kept a little for me in case I ever have to cut country," I said.

"Cut country? Why would you suppose you'd ever have to do that?" she said.

"Bea, if anything else bad happens to me, I'm the hell outta here, maybe out of the country. I've got nothing to hold me here, not really. With the possible exception of you, and maybe Candace, I'm just in the way. And even there, you and Candace are tied to the apron strings of the rich guy and that is a major drawback to me wanting to be around this place or even you. That said, as you noted earlier, they've been leaving me alone, so I don't have much to gripe about there," I said. "Hell, it's been like three months since I've seen any of them."

"Yes, but I've told you why," she said. "They're afraid to come around you. But they are about to. They've told me so."

"Why would they be afraid to come around me. Okay, Ava did tell me she didn't want to be rubbing my nose in her prosperity or her lovey-dovey relationship with the man. But even that… " I said.

"Yes, but Blake is tied up in the same knot that she is, and Candace really has been overwhelmed of late, and that's not a dodge," she said.

"Well, whatever, I don't miss them, except Candace, and that is the truth. If they come around fine. If they don't fine. If they invite me for this or that holiday, I'll come. But more than any of that, well… " I said.

The food came and it was good. We both ordered salmon this time around; I liked salmon.

We'd come in separate cars. She gave me a kiss on the cheek when we went to leave, and it was nice.

"Be nice when they visit you, Julian. They do love you, and that more than you think," she said. I waved her off. And then we were on our separate ways home.

I was well aware that Bea was the van guard, and that the main thrust of the western legions would be coming soon. But considering the lack of contact from any of the Laughlin Willis' so far, I did not expect it to be this soon. Bea and I had left the Nugget at around 9:00pm It was now 9:00am Thursday morning. I had swing today, so they for sure knew it and that I'd be home and likely not going anywhere this early. The buzzer was buzzing.

"Candace!" I said, genuinely surprised. I'd figured Ava or Blake.

"Hi Daddy," she said. She passed by me and into the inner-sanctum.

"Hi to you too," I said. "Bea, told me I might be getting some visitors."

"Yes, and you likely will be getting visits, more of them, including from me. But this visit is an unscheduled one," she said.

"Oh, well, okay?" I said.

"Dad no one else knows about this except Daniel. I'm pregnant. And no, I don't know if it's a boy or a girl. But I'm almost three months along. So, the baby is due in maybe early December," she said.

"Wow! Well congratulations," I said.

"Dad if it's a boy, I'm naming it after you. And yes, Daniel's good with that. But if it's a girl…?" she said, and stopped in mid-sentence.

"Okay?" I said.

"Well, mom named the twins after you already. So… " she said.

"So?" I said.

"I'll be naming her after mom. That okay with you?" she said. I kinda giggled.

"Of course, it is. One: it's your baby and Daniel's. Two: your mom did a good job raising you. She deserves the honor," I said. It was clear to me that she was relieved.

"Thank God," she said finally. "I was afraid, you know, that because you and mom are kinda at odds…"

"At odds? What? Did she tell you that?" I said.

"She said that you and her had some words a while back and that they were not too good. She's worried about you, or, more accurately how you and she can relate and be good again," said Candace. I nodded.

"I guess, she might have seen things that way. I didn't. But, yes, we did have words. Put succinctly, I still love your mother, and yes, that way. And the truth that she does not feel the same way, and in fact kind holds me in contempt, and I've heard her say as much, stings real bad," I said.

"She said that she knew you felt like that. But she says you're wrong, that in spite of everything," said Candace.

"Okay, maybe it's not hardcore contempt she feels for me. But she doesn't care very much about me or my feelings or needs, and those are true things. I'm kinda in the way is what she's said and that more than once. So, I just stay out of the way. And, then there's the fatherhood thing; and well, you know about that," I said.

"Yes, but as you and I have talked, and that is no longer the case. You're my beloved daddy, and my uncle Blake is also beloved if for different reasons," she said.

"Hmm," I said. "Okay, anyway, the naming thing is fine with me. When you tell your mom about all of this news, let her know my feelings on the matter. Okay?"

"Yes, for sure, okay," she said. "I'll be talking to her tonight."

"Good," I said.

"So, you talked to your father," said Ava. "I thought you had planned to go over there in a few weeks, the next holiday."

"I had, am," said Candace. "But this was kind of a special visit, not scheduled so to speak."

"Okay," said Ava.

"Yes, I talked kinda long with Daniel, and we made the decision for me to visit him sooner, well, today," she said.

"Okay," said Ava.

"Mom, I'm pregnant," she said.

"Huh? Wha… what?" said Ava.

"And no, I don't know which yet," she said.

"Oh my! And you told your father," she said.

"Yes. Mom, if it's a girl, I'm naming her after you," said Candace.

"And if it's a boy after your daddy?" said Ava.

"Yes, Julian," she said.

"Huh…? said Ava. "But…"

"Mom, Dad was shuttered in a cage for more than twenty years. He contracted HIV. He got his manhood cruelly stripped from him. He was ignorant of my existence for even longer than he was in prison. Daddy is going to get every honor, mode of recognition, that I can possibly bestow on him. I love the man. I didn't in the beginning because I didn't know anything. Now I know everything. Put simply, he deserves everything I can give him and he's going to get it," said Candace.

"I see," said Ava. "No, you're right. He does deserve to be recognized. By God he does. But, so does your other daddy."

"Mom, I only have one daddy, and that's Julian Willis. I also have a seriously wonderful uncle, Blake Willis. That's the reality and that's how things are going to be. Mom, you need to help me out here," said Candace.

"Did you tell your daddy about the name thing?" said Ava.

"Yes, and he's good with it," said Candace, and yes, I mean with naming a girl after you." Ava Willis was nodding.

"Okay, I'm glad for that. I was afraid after our last talk that he and I were not in too good a place. Maybe this might be the start of improving things," said Ava.

"Mom, I talked to him about that. I told him that you and I had discussed things," said Candace.

"Okay?" said Ava.

"He said that he thought you held him in contempt and didn't care about him or his feelings or his needs," she said.

"Damn it. I told him that was just not true. I guess he just isn't ever going to cut me any slack," she said.

"Well, maybe or maybe not. I argued with him. After a bit he did allow that maybe your feelings weren't that hard core, but he still thinks that you hold him as more of a problem than not," she said. "He said he's heard you say stuff like that and really more than once." Ava was nodding.

"When I do go to see him, well…?" said Ava.

"Mom, the man will never have another woman. You're his woman, at least that's the way he sees things. Just be very gentle if anything along those lines comes up. He has to know he's loved. He knows you love uncle Blake. He's resigned to that, accepting. But he does not want to feel as though you don't want him around at all or around a lot less which is what he thinks. He said as much," said Candace.

"Okay, I see what you mean. But he's wrong. I do want him to be around and around a lot. I do also need him to be accepting of my love for my husband, and I'm sure that that might be hard for him, but it is a thing he kinda needs to understand, sympathetically understand," she said.

"Yes, mom, and I understand. I just wish that he and Marian had worked out. I think she would have been good for him. And it would have made everything better, easier on everyone especially him. But well… " she said.

"Yes, on that score I absolutely agree with you," she said. "But well it didn't work out and now we are where we are. Damn it!"

I was home. It was Friday evening. I would be off tomorrow and working Sunday. Now if I only had a woman to keep me warm tonight. It was cool for a July evening. The sun was down; it was almost 8:00pm And then it happened. The buzzer buzzed. Oh joy.

I went to get it, the door.

"Ava!" I said.

"Yes, I've wanted to stop by. I mean our last meet up, in the park… " she said.

"Oh, okay," I said. "So what?" My tone was tolerant, maybe even friendly. I guess my talk with Candace had got me to thinking a little, unconsciously thinking if that were even possible.

"Julian, before you go off on me if you intend to, know that I am not here to rub your nose in anything. I'm not," she said. I shrugged.

"Okay," I said. "So again, so?"

"Something to drink?" she said.

"Wine?" I said. She nodded. I went to the kitchen and got it for her. I returned and set the stem glass down in front of her. She'd taken a seat at the table.

"Thanks," she said. I nodded.

"I talked to Candace," she said.

"Okay," I said.

"I'm good with her plans: the names and stuff," said Ava. I stared. She stared. "What," she said, finally.

"You mean you were good with her plans after you argued about them, right?" I said.

"Argued? We didn't really argue, but we did discuss them, the names. Yes, I do think that Blake should have gotten a mention, but after we talked, it was clear to me that you deserve everything that we can do for you, especially me. So, his name, if it is a him, will be Julian. And Julian, please don't do what you sometimes do and say you don't care or refuse to accept what she is planning or my congratulations for you getting the honor. I want you to have it. Please," she said.

"I stared some more, but then I nodded. "Okay," I said. "It is important to me, my fatherhood and things like the name thing. Very important. I may be being selfish, but frankly I deserve those things; I do," I said.

"Selfish? Did you just suggest that you are selfish! Julian, if I may, you can be stubborn, fiercely stubborn; but selfish? Don't make me laugh. You are the least selfish person on the planet.

"I'm selfish, Julian; Blake is selfish, Marian too. But you? That has to be a joke, an unfunny joke!" she said. "And just for the record. You should have worked harder to keep Marian. Just sending her off like you did was stupid, sir. It was."

"Hmm, think so?" I said.

"Oh yeah, I think so. And, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm not the only one of that opinion," she said.

"We weren't in love, Ava. Marian and I were not. I'm in love with you and I always will be. I know it's always going to be an unrequited love, but it's all I've got; I mean my dreams. I know you like me, are grateful to me. But it kills me that you never loved me or ever could love me.

"You know, it doesn't even bother me, not really, that I will never have another woman. It doesn't bother me because there is no other woman for me but you. At the risk of starting an argument; I don't think that Blake could say the same, not and mean it." I said.

"Oh, Julian, you are so right about some things and so wrong about others.

"Okay, I see now that Marian and you were never going to be in the cards as the say. But, never have another woman? Nonsense, but you do have to do a little chasing.

"Grateful to you? Like you? Understatements of celestial proportion. And Blake find another woman if we broke up? Not real likely, and I am more than happy about that reality because, Julian, I do love the man.

"I do love you too mister. You are the ultimate good guy; I realized just how good talking to Candace, our daughter. No one, not even Blake would do for me what you did, and that is also the truth. Not love you? Bullshit! When we were young, maybe not then. But now, oh my yes; your dickless self notwithstanding. Of course, I love you; how could I not.

"And going forward is going to be a tough nut. But, we will go forward. You will find another woman. A good woman. I know it. I can smell it. You just have to believe it and open your heart to the possibility. Do it, mister, do it," she said.

We drank a little, talked a little more, and for the first time in a long time I was feeling kinda not so bad, yes, maybe even good.

Chapter 42

"Okay, so it went good?" said Blake. "My brother didn't spit on, you, us."

"Yes, it went good; and no, he did not spit on us. But the man needs a woman, badly."

"Tell me something I don't know. I just cannot believe he sent Marian packing," he said.

"He says he didn't send her packing, as you put it. He claims it was mutual because they just didn't love each other. He was lonely even with her around. She was lonely. It just wasn't working for them," she said. He nodded.

"So, what now," he said.

"It might be uncomfortable at first, but no more neglecting him. He's going to be getting visits and invitations, low key visits, even if he says he'd rather not. Frankly, I'd rather be arguing with him, even on a daily basis than worrying about him on a nightly basis," she said.

"Okay. And Candace and Daniel need to be brought in on the effort, and maybe Beatrice too," he said.

"Yes, for sure," she said.

"You know, Bea dates some, but do you know if she's hooked up or looking to be with any guy long term?" he said.

"Huh? Are you suggesting…?" she started.

"Just a thought, just a thought. They get along good. I mean, well, what do you think?" he said.

"I think that us trying to get him and Marian together turned out to be not so good an idea," she said.

"Yes, but us giving her the half million in the effort was a big ass mistake, queered the whole thing," he said.

"You have a point, but even so. Messing with his private life, and that especially so soon after Marian… " she said.

"Yes, yes, I see your point too. Still, first things first. We need to contact our confederates and get the ball rolling when it comes to guaranteeing that the man will not be neglected. That's number one," he said. Ava was nodding.

"Yes, yes indeed," she said.

The gang was all there: Candace, Daniel, Bea, Ava, and Blake. "We're all agreed then," said Blake. Everyone was nodding.

"And no scheduling. Just once a month, at random times-each of us. And no communication among us setting up times except maybe for holiday events and the like," said Ava. "To the extent possible we don't want him to be thinking that we're doing this because we feel sorry for him or guilty because we have neglected him. He'll slam the door in our faces if we do."

The yeses were universal.

"Mom, everyone, just so you'll know," said Candace, "It's going to be a boy. I just found out yesterday." Suddenly the looks on everyone's face was questioning.

"Okay," said Ava. "That's wonderful news. Does your daddy know?"

"No, not yet. Later today, I think.

"Daniel and I are going over to his place after he gets off work. He has the early shift today: Leona had a doctor's appointment," said Candace.

"Oh, okay, well good," said Ava.

"Yes," said Blake.

The congratulatory noise was again universal.

It had been a long day, but it was finally over. It seemed like we'd run out of half our stock since I'd come on at 7:00am But Hank and me had gotten everything restocked by the time Leona had come on. I'd no more than church-keyed my IPA than the buzzer buzzed. I went to the door only slightly miffed that I was not going to be allowed to relax.

"Candace! Daniel!" I said. I was genuinely surprised. It was middle of July and it had been only a few weeks since I'd seen her, a bit longer in the case of Daniel.

"Yes, Daddy, it's a boy," she said, and she was smiling.

"Oh my," I said. I had a thought. "Does you mom know?"

"Yes, talked to her earlier today. I knew you were working so I waited till now to sandbag you," she said. I'd not been ignoring Daniel deliberately, but I had been, I changed that now.

"Well, and Daniel, how are you doing?" I said.

"Fine, sir, a little anxious maybe," he said. "But momma here is doing good, so, so am I."

"Well, good," I said.

"Yes, Daddy, I'm good. And like I said before, Julian Prescott will be arriving in the middle of December is what the doctor has assured and reassured me," she said.

I was feeling super good. The name thing is usually an honor, but in this case, I saw it as kind of a vindication of my fatherhood. Had it been the other guy to be so honored, it would've been a pure slap in the face. I wondered how my ex-fiancée was seeing things.

Candace gave me a look. I swear the kid could read minds, mine anyway.

"And, before you go thinking any bad thoughts, Dad, Mom is good with the baby being named after you. She is very supportive," said Candace.

"Hmm," I said. "Okay, good, I don't want to be the cause of anybody being upset or anything," I said.

"You're not and you won't be. Really, Daddy, it's all good," she said.

"She's telling it straight, sir," said Daniel. I smiled.

"Well, good then," I said.

We talked a bit longer and I learned more about Daniel and his new job working for Blake. He liked it, but I had to think he liked it mostly because he had almost tripled his income, but I could have been wrong about that-not.

"Okay, so you still think it might be a good idea to present Bea with the option?" said Ava.

"I kinda do. I mean she'd have to be onboard with it, and his lack of his manhood is a serious downer. But even so… " he said.

"Yes, she would have to be clued and onboard with anything in that direction. But she has never shown an interest in that direction, nor has he," she said.

"Do we know that for sure. They are close friends," he said.

"Friends yes, but pseudo lovers?" she said.

"I'd like to talk to Candace about the idea, and then if she has the sense that it might be an okay thing; well… " he said.

"Hah! Putting Candace's neck out there like that; I don't know. She's kinda in tight with her dad nowadays, but something like this…?"

"I'll talk to her. If she is okay with the idea, we'll be having Bea over for dinner," he said.

"Okay," she said. "I guess it can't hurt too much-hopefully."

"Hmm," he said.

"So, Candace didn't think much of the idea," said Ava.

"No, she said we need to stay the heck outta messin' with the man's love life. And, she was kinda hard core saying it," said Blake. "But I'm going to invite Bea for dinner anyway, and kinda indirectly suggest that she think about things."

"Indirectly. How do you figure to do that?" said Ava.

"Don't know yet, but I'll figure it out," he said. Ava nodded, but not real supportively.

"So where are the young people, the Prescotts?" said Bea, smiling.

"Yes, they were invited, but decided that they had to go to a do his folks were having. Candace didn't even know about it till the last minute. But we still have tons of food. So… " he said, and motioned their guest into the dining room.

Ava was helping Lillian bring in the last of the platters. The table was set.

"Bea, so glad you could make it. I'm sure Blake told you about the Prescotts," said Ava.

"Yes, well it is what it is," said Bea. "And I am hungry."

Dinner was mildly boisterous and the mood was upbeat. They took their after-dinner cocktails out onto the patio.

"Bea, Ava and I have talked a lot over the years about life, our lives, history," said Blake.

"Okay, well, I mean of course you have," she said. Blake looked over toward his wife, and she smiled and nodded.

"What?" said Bea.

"She said you were, at one time, thinking of putting a move on 'me'!" he said.

"Ava! That's not fair," said Bea.

"It was twenty-five years ago," said Ava, "more."

"Well, you were rich, even then," said Bea. "I was after your money." Blake snorted.

"Well, you missed your chance," said Blake. "I married your friend here instead."

"Yes, that's a well-documented fact," said Bea.

"Question," said Blake, "did you ever give a thought to hooking up with my poorer relative?"

"Huh? You mean Julian?" she said.

"Yes," he said.

"Wait, wait, are you pulling a 'Marian' here?" she said.

"No, no," said Ava. "Just curious is all. No bribery, nothing like that."

"Hmm," said Bea. "But to answer your question, no. You were already with Julian, Ava; and I was kinda playing the field, still am, even at my age."

"He is single now, I mean no meaningful attachments," said Ava.

"You are pulling a 'Marian' here aren't you?" said Bea.

"No, no," said Blake. "But he is single as Ava said. You're single and knowledgeable about everything. I mean and we are all getting to be a bit older."

"Your saying I'm almost too old for the field thing," said Bea.

"Hell no, I'm not saying that. I value breathing too much to say something like that to any woman," said Blake, and he was kinda smiling.

"Hmm, good thinking," said Bea. "But you are saying you'd like me to consider the man, right?" The two Willis' looked serious.

"Kinda," said Ava. "But no pressure or expectation or bribes or any of that. Really."

"He's a good guy," said Blake. "And, the man trusts you."

"He's great guy. But he has a lot of downsides, Blake: the sex thing, his all-consuming bitterness, the fact that he can't get over you, Ava, and the fact that he'd look me askance, at the least, because of my relationships with the lot of you guys," she said.

"All true and all overcomeable," said Blake.

"Except his feelings for you Ava. That's the insurmountable fly in the ointment, and it's one big assed fly. There's no getting around it," said Bea.

"Bea it has to be getaroundable," said Ava. "It has to."

"Ava, his best chance was Marian. She's as pretty as you, and the mastectomy, bad a thing as that is, was in her case actually a positive. It gave Julian confidence that his own missing body part wouldn't be too much of a drag on his relationship with her. That said…

"The money thing was just too much for her to deal with," said Bea. "Or really too much for him to deal with."

"Bea, Ava and I are not trying to pressure you into hooking up Julian. If something like that were to be of interest to you; well, we would be there to back you up anyway you, or him either, would see fit," said Blake. "But, no pressure, really."

"Bea, we just want the man to be happy. And if I even need to say it, you too," said Ava.

"Hmm," said Bea. "Look, I like Julian. Hell, I admire him; how could I not. But love him, romantically love him, for a life time? That's what you're suggesting, right?" The Willis' looked down.

"I just don't know," said Bea. "How about this. I'll think on it. I doubt it. I really doubt it. Like I said before: too many downsides. But the guy is worth a second look, I guess. Okay?"

"Of course, that's okay," said Blake. "It's just that Ava and I, well, we were talking about the guy and his troubles and needs all of it, and well, you came up. We know you are friends with the man. We know he likes you, and more importantly, trusts you. So, well, we decided to broach the subject."

"Broach the subject, right," said Bea. "Like I say. I'll give it some thought and get back to you. But, again, it's likely not gonna result in a real positive outcome."

The trio talked for a bit longer; well, a glass of wine each longer and then retired.

Chapter 43

I answered the door and stared. "Bea?" I said. She smirked and slid by me into my front room. I closed the door and turned to face her. She suddenly looked serious.

"Bea?" It's 10:00pm I have to open tomorrow," I said.

"I know. It's always the same for you on Mondays," she said.

"Okay?" I said.

'You know I work for your brother, and that Ava and I have been friends for a thousand years, right?" she said.

"Yeah, so?" I said.

"So, you wanna marry me?" she said.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"I know this is a little sudden, but I've been thinking it over, and I think you and I would be a good match. There would for sure be some speed bumps along the way, but overall, a good match. So, big guy, whaddya think?" she said. I stared some more. I figured to be doing a lot of that.

"Huh?" I said. She sighed and sagged back on the divan where she'd taken a seat.

"I'm not going to shit you, Julian, the bad guys-in your opinion-asked me what I thought of the idea. At first, I wanted to laugh. I mean I'm for sure not in Ava's league or Marian's. But then I thought, why the hell not. I mean why not put it put out there and see if I might be able to reel in the fish this time. So many have wiggled off the hook in the past, that well… just maybe," she said. I stared some more.

"You're serious aren't you!" I said. "I mean this isn't just some deal to make me feel less bad or something?"

"Yes, it's serious. I told the bad guys that it was highly unlikely that you and I would work, but like I say, well, why not talk to you about it. All you could do is tell me to forget it," she said.

"Wow!

"Bea, in truth, I never thought of you that way. I know you like laying the field, always have. So, I never gave you, it, any thought. That said… " I said.

"That said?" she said.

"Can I think about it, what you said?" I said. "I mean this is more than sudden. It's shockingly sudden!"

"Obviously you can think about it. But please do think about it seriously. It's the first time I've ever proposed to a guy, and well… " she said. "I guess we'll talk again, soon, very soon," she said.

"Yes," I said. Then we had a cup of coffee, and a bit more conversation, and then she was gone. A short visit, a crazy idea, but was it crazy, the visit or the idea? Probably, very probably, I thought.

She'd asked me to think about things, the things she'd said. And I did, and I thought about some other things too. I thought about Marian. I thought about Ava. I thought about Angel. Angel was different; she'd needed me, but wasn't after money; the other two were. And me? What did I want; what was I after?

All I ever wanted was my Ava. But Ava had made it clear that I was not what she wanted. What she'd said, and I'd over heard at the Blue Boar that day, was her real position on things her later protestations to the contrary notwithstanding. She saw me as being in the way of her happiness and felt helpless to do anything about it.

She'd done so many things to me and then made seriously strenuous efforts to rationalize her actions based on her strongly held belief that she'd never meant any of the things that she'd done were meant to hurt me; yet, all of the things she'd done had hurt me-bad.

I could have, and would have, settled for Marian, and that was the deal, it would have been me settling for her. And she might have been willing to settle for me because she was physically less than she had once been too. My short comings were worse than were hers, but hers were also pretty bad. We could have made it, but not with her willingness to be bought off by the bad guys.

And, now I had a decision to make and I made it. It had taken me three days. I made the call. We'd be meeting at the Blue Boar.

The woman of the house ushered her in to the library. Blake was seated and waiting, nervously waiting.

"Bea," he said raising from his seat to greet her. He motioned her to have a seat. Ava was already taking hers; he retook his. A moment of quiet reigned.

"I proposed to him," said Bea.

"Huh?" said Ava. Bea snickered.

"Yes, exactly," she said. "He's thinking things over. And no, I do not know how things are likely to turn out. He was maybe interested, but he was also confused which was fair, so was I."

"Did he say how long he'd need to consider things?" said Blake.

"No, and as to that I don't think he knew, knows, himself," she said. The man nodded and glanced over at his wife.

"Candace?" said Blake.

"Involve her?" said Ava. Her husband nodded. "Well, I mean Candace has already let it be known that we should stay out of the matchmaking business."

"Okay, you're right. But maybe get her to support his decision if it's positive, rather than help with the decision per se?" he said.

"Yes, okay," said Ava. Bea nodded her support of the position.

"Okay, we'll hold off on that for now. I guess now we just hope things work out for the best," he said.

"Hmm," said Bea. "I still kinda wonder just what would be the 'best' is the question. He and I always got along. I'd hate to lose a friend because of this-ploy. But I guess, like you say, we just hope and wait and see."

How long should one wait before responding to a proposal of marriage, even when it's the woman doing the proposing? In my case it had been three days, probably not a record.

I had a booth staked out by the window. It was a bit after 6:00pm I saw her come in. She saw me and came to join me. It was hot even now, in the early evening; well, it was July.

She stood for a long moment just kinda watching me. She sat.

"Bea… " I started. She raised a restraining hand.

"Let me go first, Julian, please," she said. I nodded my surrender.

"Okay," I said.

"Julian, you are a helluva man. That's why I even considered asking you what I asked you a few days ago. Yes, the Laughlin clan did kind of suggest it, but no it was not a pressurized suggestion; and no, no money was offered, bribe.

"Julian, I'd never considered it before; I mean marrying you. You were, and I think still are, too hung up on Ava. That said, I do believe that we could make it work. In the best of all possible worlds we could. But, if you are not in favor of it, please, sir, I do not want to lose your friendship. Okay? Anyway, that's all I have to say, for the moment," she said.

"Thank you for that, and no you will not be losing my friendship, even though you are working for the man. He didn't buy you like he tried to do with Marian, or if he did you didn't agree to it; and that means a lot to me; more than you can possibly know," I said.

"Thank you," she said. "So…?" I looked down, then up.

"Can't do it, Bea. Like you say, I can't get over Ava, even though I know it's my loss because I can't. She crushed my heart in so many ways that I should be looking for revenge or at least a way to escape her. But with Candace in the mix and Ava being her mother, there is no practicable way. I could only wish there were," I said. Bea nodded.

"I kinda figured that that's what you might be deciding. I think so did the Laughlin crowd. But so long as you and I can remain friends… " she said.

"A done deal," I said, "for sure a done deal!"

"Good," she said, "let's eat. I mean it's not every day that one of my marriage proposals gets turned down!" I snickered.

"It's not every day that I get a marriage proposal period," I said.

And we did eat. And we did laugh, a little. And time did pass yet again, five months to be precise. It was December, but still 2000, and I got a call from Daniel. Candace was in the hospital.

"Dad!" said Daniel as I came into the waiting room. My daughter's husband calling me dad still felt a little funny, but in a good way.

"So, it's almost time?" I said.

"Yes," said Daniel. Then the other family joined us.

"Julian," said Ava. "Good you made it."

"Yes, just got here," I said.

"Julian," said Blake, nodding his greeting. I nodded back.

Just then a white clad man with the stethoscope necklace came through the double doors smiling. He accosted Daniel directly.

"A boy, eight pounds four ounces," he announced. I thought that the new daddy was about to faint, but he didn't. He clasped the doctor's hand and was profuse in his thank yous. The doctor smiled and turned to the rest of us.

"About five or ten minutes at the most," he said. "The nurses will wave you all in."

It turned out to be eleven minutes-must've been a coffee break in there someplace. My daughter looked tired but happy. Daniel looked happier than she did, well, he wasn't tired.

"Mom, Dads, meet Julian Blake Prescott," said Candace. I smiled, broadly. Blake and Ava smiled less broadly.

The conversations were muted but good. Everyone, especially Candace, seemed in good spirits. As for the naming thing, I wondered what the conversation in the other Willis bedroom would be like tonight. I figured I knew. They'd see it as an olive branch to me even though it wasn't from them it was from the Prescotts. An olive branch, yes, but one they'd rather have seen accomplished some other way; I was sure of that.

"Nobody mentioned Bea's failure to reel me in. But I figured that they'd expected that one. I'd hear about it sooner or later. That was something else I was sure of.

The nurse came and shooed us all out. My daughter needed her rest. It had been a more or less difficult delivery if not an especially lengthy one.

Out in the corridor. I waved goodbye to the other Willis', but Ava pulled me aside for a brief, smiley moment.

"Well, how do you feel, Julian?" she said.

"Good," I said. I knew she was referring to the naming thing. "I'm just glad that she is doing good and that the baby is healthy and, well, good."

"Yes, as are we all," she said. "You need to come by this weekend if you can. For dinner maybe?" she said. I didn't frown, but I wanted to.

"Sure, maybe," I said.

"Please," she said. "It's almost Christmas." I shrugged.

"I'll try, really," I said.

"Friday," she said. I nodded. That would be the 22nd. "Candace will be coming too with the baby: little Julian." I smirked.

"Like I said, I will do my best," I said. I'd already been invited to the Prescott's house for Wednesday evening, and I had committed to that one. But I would be seeing about a scheduling change for Friday. I was working early on Wednesday so that wasn't going to be a problem.

And I did make it to the two dinners. Bea was at the Friday do. We got on good. Not a word was said regarding my turning down her proposal. I had gotten what I surmised were looks from both Ava and Blake that seemed to be unverbalized questions, but again, nothing was actually said.

Over the next months, I worked, visited the Prescotts a couple of times, and they me once. Had gotten an invite to the Willis' for Christmas Day and New Year's, but declined both '01. I was feeling kind of down, and just wanted to be left alone. They hadn't push it.

But apart from those I had no contact from anybody. Well, until now, Bea buzzed, I answered the door, and she came in. It was July 1st, 2001.

"Hear you've kinda been missing in action," said Bea.

"Oh," I said.

"Yes, from Ava mostly. They think you're avoiding them," she said.

"Kinda an overstatement, but yes, I guess I have. They've got their lives and kids. I've got my life and no kids or family really. Well, there is Candace and Danny and my namesake, but we have visited a little, a few times," I said. Bea nodded.

"She feels bad about stuff," said Bea. I shrugged.

"Can't help it," I said, "that's all on her."

"Oh?" she said.

"I still can't get over the stuff she said about me, and that I actually overheard," I said. "I mean a guy gives his love, his heart, his all for a woman and she does him like that. I can get along with her, them, because of Candace, but more than that…"

"No chance?" she said.

"Chance? Chance for what?' I said.

"To really and truly mend fences?" she said.

"No," I said. "Don't need to. I've got you." She snickered.

"Yes, well there is that," she said.

"They send you over here today, Sunday?" I said.

"Not exactly. She did say that if I got a chance to see if you'd, well, be amenable to a serious change of situation. But no, she didn't actually ask me to visit you today," she said.

"I don't trust her. But you can tell her I don't actually hold any grudge or anything," I said. "I just can't forget the things she said about me. According to her I'm a childish little shit, dickless and useless in bed… well, you get the picture. I will never forget those words."

"Yes, she told me she said things like that, but out of frustration, not because she really meant them the way she knows they must've sounded to you," she said.

"What about my frustration after the man visited me in prison and informed me that I'd been dumped. Yes, my frustration, living a nightmare every night knowing what they were doing in bed; and having to live with what was being done to me regularly both in and out of my cage. You figure she's actually got a gripe?" I said. Bea looked down.

"No, I don't think she does. You're right. I do think she's truly sorry about the things she said, and about all of the suffering she has caused you; and your brother too for that matter," she said.

"Yeah, well, next time you see her, do assure her that I'm not holding any grudges, like I said. But I just don't trust her. I know she doesn't give a shit about me, not really. Is she actually sorry for everything, as you say? Maybe, but it doesn't matter. I still can't get over her, and I likely never will, as even you pointed out to me. And that's my life and my cross to bear. It's lonely and it's what I got and all I am ever likely to have," I said. "But loneliness is something I'm used to. In prison it's all any of us had, any of us prisoners." She nodded.

That had to be the worst," she said.

"Pretty much," I said.

Chapter 44

"So, you had a chance to talk to him," said Ava.

"Yes, he said to tell you he's not holding any grudges. But… " said Bea.

"But?" said Ava.

"He doesn't trust you. He's certain you really don't give a damn about him," said Bea.

"What! That's bullshit. I've told him a million times that I do care about him and love him, not the way I love my husband but truly," said Ava.

"It was the words he heard," she said.

"Oh. Yes, I know they must have hurt him really bad. He's actually told me that himself," said Ava.

"Yes, they, the words, are the one thing, the biggest thing that he just can't get by," said Bea.

"Bea, like we've talked about, I said them out of frustration and only that," she said.

"Yes, and I told him that. But he said his frustrations were worse. Said he dreamed about you and Blake in bed every night while he was locked in a cage and abused regularly while he was doing all he could just trying to survive.

"He's lonely, Ava, desperately lonely and with no one to share his life with, let alone his bed; and with no hope of ever finding someone to share that bed with dickless as he is," she said.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God: if there was anything I could do… Oh my, oh, my, oh my! Bea, if there is anything I can do, I will do it. It's just that every time I do try, I fuck up or something happens to make things even worse than they already were," said Ava.

"You say you haven't seen him since before Christmas," said Bea.

"Yes, or heard from him either. Well, except Blake and I did invite him to Christmas dinner and for New Year's Day too," she said, "but he turned us down."

"Oh?" she said.

"Yes, and since then, Blake is of the opinion that we need to wait for him to come to us. Give him space so to speak. No pressure," said Ava. Bea nodded.

"Hmm, I don't think, knowing what I do know, that that's a good plan: the no pressure part, yes. But just letting him vegetate and rot in that little third-rate apartment of his, well… " she said.

"Bea, if you've got a suggestion, please!" said Ava.

"You heard anything about Marian lately?" she said. That got Beatrice Evans a raised eyebrow from her friend.

"Marian, but they broke up," said Ava.

"Yes, because at the time they both thought, wrongly thought in my opinion, that they just couldn't actually love each other, not because they couldn't get along, or… " said Bea.

"Or?" said Ava.

"Or learn to," said Bea.

"Bea, you think, I mean you really think that they might… " said Ava.

"What I think is that things couldn't be any worse, and that for either of them in spite of the fact that Marian now has some money," said Bea.

"But, Julian and the money?" said Ava.

"Yes, but in this case, he gave her the money not you guys," she said. Suddenly Ava Willis looked thoughtful.

"Okay, I see what you mean," said Ava. "I'll be talking to Blake, and maybe even Candace and Daniel." Bea nodded.

There was a knock on the door. The buzzer wasn't used. The two women looked at each other. Ava shrugged and went to the door.

"Candace! And Marian!" exclaimed Ava. Bea's chin undoubtedly had dust on it from bouncing off the floor.

"Yes, Mom, we've got to talk," said Candace. Marian for her part looked worried and just nodded her greeting.

"Come in," said Ava. Bea fell back onto the seat she'd just risen from but moments before.

"Mom… " started Candace.

"Candace, me first, please," said Ava, her daughter nodded. "Candace, Marian, Bea and I were just talking about the two of you.

"Ladies, Bea and I were going to be asking the both of you to come over. We wanted to talk to you, the both of you-too-I guess!"

"Okay?" said a mildly surprised Candace.

"Ava?" said Marian.

"Bea and Julian are friends. Well, and Bea did something recently that, well, didn't exactly work out-or-not work out," said Ava.

"I proposed to Daniel. But, predictably he; well, we are talking about Julian, turned me down," said Bea. "But we are still friends, maybe even closer because of my failed effort, not sure about that." Ava raised a hand.

"Let me, Bea. Ava looked across at the other women.

"Bea and I know that the man has to have a woman to be happy; hell, everybody knows it who knows him. Yes, he says he loves me and can never love anyone else. But that's just so much bull-pucky. He believes that I owe him my love and unless he can have that he refuses to even consider anyone else: you Marian, Bea, anyone else.

"The truth is I do owe the man. I owe him my life. But my romantic love? No, that's beyond my control or his or Blake's or anybody's. He can't ever have that again, and yes, I think he may have had it, the beginnings of it, back when we were young, little more than kids. But then he saved me, helluva a man that he was and is; and later, you too Marian.

"So again, I owe him, and what I can do, well try to do, is fix him up with the perfect woman, perfect for him. That woman, Marian, is you," said Ava.

"Ava, you know damn well we broke up because the two of us came to the conclusion that we just didn't love each other," said Marian, "not that way."

"More bull-pucky," said Ava. "You let him convince you that that was so. It wasn't and isn't," said Ava. "Tell me straight that you didn't and don't love him."

"Mom, that's why we came over tonight. We wanted to talk to you, well, and I guess Bea too now," said Candace.

"Oh?" said Ava.

"Although the word love wasn't mentioned. Marian came to me and said that maybe she and Julian could find a way to hook up, well, kinda platonically. Live together. Have a life together. Marian needs a man she can trust. And although she did do some looking after breaking up with Julian this last time; well, like I say she wants to have another go at him," she said. "Maybe on a different level."

"Platonically? A different level? More bull-pucky! It's gonna be all or nothing and nothing is not on the table and not to be considered!" said Ava. "Yes, Marian, the two of you have physical issues, but none that can't be resolved; I'm sure of it. Okay?"

"I'm not… " said Marian.

"I am," said Ava.

"Me too," said Bea.

Marian glanced over at Candace.

"Don't look at me," said Candace, "I'm on their side."

"Okay then, I guess," said Marian.

Shakespeare wrote that: "There is a tide in the affairs of men when taken at the flood leads on to fortune." I had a feeling that my apartment was about to flooded by a tidal wave of heroic proportion! But would that tidal wave lead on to fortune-well, for me or someone else-was the question. And I was certain that the question had to be related to Bea's visits of recent vintage. I was about to be proven wrong-sort of.

Ava, my Ava of yesteryear, had just parked her Caddy. She was walking, deliberately this time, almost cautiously, toward my place. Oh yes, this was not going to be the usual, not in a million years! I could feel it. I really could. She had a kind of pre-smile on her face. That's the only way I could describe her look.

She buzzed for admittance. I went to the door and admitted her.

"And to what do I owe this more or less rare visitation?" I said. I had on a pre-smile of my own.

"We can talk about the rarity of visitations if you want, but I would appreciate it if we could do that a little bit later," she said. I shrugged.

"Okay," I said. I motioned her to have a seat. "Something to drink?"

"I guess, if you do," she said. I already had an IPA sitting on the small table to the left of my rattan rocking chair. I nodded toward it.

"An IPA?" I said. She nodded. I went to get it. I returned and set it down on the table in front of her.

"So," I said. My guest was silent for a full minute. I waited.

"You know we encouraged, not actually demanded or even asked, Bea to come to you, right?" said Ava. I nodded.

"So?" I said.

"She also told us you turned her down. Which actually didn't surprise us, or even her," she said. I shrugged. So far nothing she said meant anything, not really.

"Why are you here, Ava. I know what you think of me. I know how you value money. I know you're not going to dump Blake like you dumped me, so, why are you here?" I said.

"No, I'm not breaking up with Blake. You're wrong about how I see you and what I think of you. And, I don't hate money, though I would say that it doesn't mean as much to me as you think it does," she said.

"Which still begs the question, why are you here? I'm sure you've got beer in the fridge at your place," I said. "Oh, and I do know exactly what you think of me, and pretty much what you'll be saying about me as soon as you get back to your castle in Laughlin."

"Jesus, this is going to be tough," she said.

"So?" I said. She sighed and assumed a desperate look; well, I thought it was a desperate look, or, maybe determined and desperate. I waited some more.

"I'm here to try and fix some things and make you a proposition it should be very hard for you to refuse, and no it has nothing to do with money," she said. I raised an eyebrow and waited some more.

"Some basic things first, okay?" she said.

"Okay," I said. I was becoming impatient, and she was kind of catching onto that clear reality.

"Of least importance in all of this is the money, Blake's and mine. It's useful, and we've used a lot of it over the years; some of it to help you; believe it or not. And before I go any farther, you need to know, if you don't already, that you could have a ton of it for the merest, vaguest, suggestion of a request for it, money. That's all I'm going to say about that. Now for the biggees…

"So, what do I really think of you as a man? I think you're a wonderful man and human being, the best; better even than Blake. I think your sexy; and yes, that in spite of the fact that you no longer have a penis and are stricken with HIV; which sickens me, because I am at base responsible for those horrid truths.

"And yes, Julian, I've said some terrible things about you in the past, none of which were true in any real sense, but I did say them; and they were said mainly because of my frustration over the truth that I could never make up to you all of the horrid trouble I've caused you. My God, Julian, you have no idea!"

"Think not, do you?" I said.

"Julian, I know, and you for sure know, that no one can truly appreciate all of the bad things that happened to you in that awful place. One would have to live through it to even begin to understand the pain, the loneliness, the despair that you endured, endured for me! That said…

"While it is certainly true that I could never fully appreciate what you went through for me; it is equally true that you could never fully appreciate the emotional pain that I have endured knowing what little I did know and my feelings of guilt over what I did to cause it all.

"Julian, you were in prison for more than twenty years because of me. But I'm in prison too, and that for life, having to live with the guilt for all that I did to you and denied you. Even if you, as the man I know you are, could ever forgive me, I could never forgive myself, never!" she said. She went silent. I think she was crying.

"Ava, I can and do forgive you for everything. And I do claim to be man enough to do that. But I can never stop loving you and that's the catch-22 in all of this," I said.

"And that's the first thing you've said that is not true and is in fact nonsense," she said. Her words set me back on my heels.

"Huh? What!" I said.

"You 'can' stop loving me in 'that' way, and give your wonderful love to another. Will it be easy, a piece of cake, maybe not; but quite doable and that is just a plain unadulterated fact!" she said.

"Think so, do you," I said.

"I know so, mister. I do," she said.

"Yeah well, you got any candidates in mind?" I said, and it was clear I was being sarcastic.

"Marian," she said.

"Hah, I sent her packing long ago," I said. "She was in fact my second choice, and we might have made a go of it; but then I realized I just could not get over you; and more, she realized it too, and at the same time. Hence, we were over."

"Candace and Bea and I got together the other night and made a decision," she said.

"A decision?" I said.

"Yes, to get you to get 'un-over' it," she said.

"Ridiculous," I said. "She's gone, she's got her money. That ship has sailed."

I watched as she took out her cell phone and punched a key. She put the phone away.

"I'm going to leave now, Julian. I'm going to go home and continue living my life sentence for crimes against a very great man who will always have a place in my heart even if I no longer deserve to have a place in his," she said. And then she was gone.

I was speechless. She'd made a helluva case, nonsense though it certainly was. But then there was a knock on my door, no buzzer this time.

I wondered why sometimes people knocked and other times used the buzzer; I mean the same people. I guess knocking was more personal, something.

"Marian!" I said, and then stood and stared.

It finally came to me, that when Ava hit that key on her phone, it wasn't to hang up on someone. No, it was a signal for Marian to knock on my door, personally knock on my door.

"Can I come in?" she said, jolting me out of my semi-coma.

"Yes, yes, of course, come in," I said, waking up.

"So, you talked to her. Positive or negative outcome?" she said.

"Don't know," I said.

"Okay, I'll take that as a positive. Wanna go to bed?" she said. Talk about a full court press. The question was: did I have a defense? It was fast becoming clear to me that I did not! I wanted the woman. But…

"Follow me," she said. "We can talk after we get our bearings and our jollies jollified. Okay?" she said. I kinda nodded and let her lead me by the hand down the hall.

It took an hour to get jollified. And I was able to get off, and, she for sure did. Oh, how I needed those, both of those-things-to happen.

We lay panting like teenagers having newly discovered how to live, or, something.

"You okay?" she said, after a short while.

"Yes, yes, indeed," I said. "I'm fine. You?"

"Yes, me too," she said. "I'm going to shower. Meet you up front. Okay?"

"Yes," I said. I needed a shower too, but mine would be having to wait. I needed an IPA more.

She was a whole half hour in 'meeting' with me up front.

"You clean now?" I said.

"You?" she said.

"How could I be? You were hogging the shower," I said.

"Oh, yes, I guess that's so," she said.

"Hmm," I said. "Anyway, you said we might be talking after, well, after."

"Yes," she said. "Uh, okay, you turned Bea down. How about me?"

"No," I said. "Don't wanna get married if that's what you're asking."

"Okay, that's what I figured you'd say. So, I have a counter proposal. Please, just hear me out, okay?" she said. I shrugged.

"Okay, but not right now. How about at dinner tonight. It's almost 6:00 and I'm hungry and a little worn out. You did a number on me today," I said.

"Good, dinner sounds good. But you need to shower. Take care of that and then we can go," she said. I snorted but obeyed her-suggestion.

Chapter 45

We'd eaten. The food'd been good. Well, it usually was at the Blue Boar. We had our drinks in front of us. And silence momentarily reigned.

"So, we agree that marriage is off the table," I said.

"Agree? No, but I accept that it is. But like I said earlier; I have a proposition to make that you really need to accept and live with," said Marian. I sighed.

"And that would be?' I said.

"Okay, there are several parts to this little proposal. So, do me the favor of hearing me out before you comment or whatever. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, I can go that far I guess," I said.

"Good," she said. "A couple of hours ago we were saving each other from going crazy with horniness. Right?"

"Yes, I would have to agree with that," I said.

"Similarly, in the past except for the money thing, we got along very well, right?" she said.

"Again, yes, except for the money thing which was a very large biggee for me," I said.

"Okay, good. Now, Blake did me a small favor, very small, and got me an apartment. It took some doing but he got it for me," she said. "But to be clear, I paid for it. He just did the convincing of the owner to let me have it, rent it, move into it. Okay?"

"But he didn't pay for anything is what you're saying," I said.

"He did use his influence, but that was it. I could have done it myself or maybe even had you help me out with it, but I wanted to get it done fast, so, well, Blake," she said. I nodded, but my nodding was more or less negative. I waited for the punch line. I got it.

"Okay?" I said.

"It's here, at the Dust Devil… apartment 214," she said, seeming to be squeezing her anal muscle very tightly.

"Apartment 214? That's next door to mine?" I said, and it was a question.

"Yes," she said. "It will enable us to be with each other, a lot, all of the time even. But, still kinda separate, single." I sagged back into my seat.

"Huh?" I said.

"You need a woman. You need me. I need a man, you. Do not even think about turning me down, mister. The term 'need' is not a misnomer!" she said.

And then the back and forth was on. And, well, she won, eventually, sort of.

"Okay, like you say, there isn't any clear downside to what you are proposing. So okay. I agree. But the marriage thing… " I said.

"There will not be any, unless you finally get your head outta your ass and propose to this girl," she said. I was nodding. It really was an offer I couldn't refuse. I'd need to be reenforcing my position with Blake to stay the hell outta my business. But, apart from that…

"Okay," I said. "I agree." She smiled, but she also seemed to not be done with her assault on my conscious mind. It turned out that she wasn't, done that is.

"That's not enough!" I said, pressing her.

"Well… " she said.

"Well what?' I said.

"Blake would like to meet with you," she said.

"Swords or pistols?" I said, and I wasn't kidding. Well, I was, but I wasn't.

"Words," she said. I sighed.

"What about?" I said.

"You know what about," she said. "About bringing peace to the valley and forgiveness for him and her."

I could feel my eyes narrowing. "And if I can't do it?" I said.

"Then you can't. But I know you can. And yes, it's all going to be on you. Because they are coming hats in hands begging," she said.

"They or him?" I said. "You said Blake."

"Well… " she said.

"Okay, but not they. Only him. If she or anyone else shows up with him; it's over forever," I said.

"Okay, I'll tell him, them, they," she said.

"Okay, then, set it up." I said.

"Okay, I'll go home now. But… breakfast at my place tomorrow?" she said.

"Okay, it's not that long a drive I guess," I said, and I smiled and so did she.

"No, not that long a drive." She said.

Breakfast was blueberry pancakes; I love pancakes. We'd just finished chomping down.

"You're off today, right?" said Marian.

"Yes, it's Sunday. That's the one constant in my schedule anymore," I said.

"Figured," she said. "Blake will be coming over at lunch time. I'm cooking, and the two of you, are eating. Then I will be going shopping and the two of you will be talking; hopefully productively. Okay?"

"Yeah, well, hopefully, I guess," I said.

And then it was half past noon. Lunch was over, and Marian was shopping.

I was sitting across from the man in my new neighbor's apartment: the one he'd apparently and specially arranged for her to have next door to mine. I'd have to thank him for that. Well, there was no money involved this time.

"Before you say anything, let me," he said. His request was good by me because I wasn't sure what I wanted to say anyway.

"Okay," I said.

"I heard about what you and Ava talked about here recently, and Bea too before that," said Blake.

"Yeah, so what?" I said.

"The 'what' is your belief that you cannot ever forget or get over your romantic attachment to Ava. I can allow, believe, that you actually think that that's a true thing; but I am more than certain that it is not actually a true thing. You can get over her. Would be easy to do so? Maybe not, but it is possible and would not take very long if you wanted to make the effort. That's the kicker. You'd need to want to. That's why we've, the bunch of us, have been plotting and scheming to get you to do so; that is, want to make the effort," he said.

I wanted to laugh. The man was nuts! But, was he? My indecisiveness per the issue was what was standing in the way of my laughter.

"Hmm," I said.

"You didn't tell Marian to forget it when she moved in next door," he said, pressing me.

"Yeah, but not in with me," I countered. "That would have been a bridge too far."

"Absolutely, for the short run," he said. "But for the long haul…?"

"A long shot," I said. He nodded.

"But a shot nevertheless," he said.

"Hmm," I said.

"You know, that in all of the conversation about you and Ava over these last years, I do not recall you ever saying what it was about Ava that made you commit to her the way you maintain that you did and still do," he said.

"Love is hard to explain. I would think that you would understand that. Why do you love her?" I said. He smiled.

"She beautiful. She's loyal. She protects my heart. And she is a good mother to the children. So, some total, she completes me," he said.

"Pretty good explanation," I said. "Looking at it now, I mean from your perspective; I'd have to say I'm kind of at a loss. She is beautiful, clearly. She was not loyal to me, clearly. She broke my heart into a million pieces, clearly. I can accept that she is and was a good mother, but she cut me out of that equation early on, clearly. And as for completing me? She completed you instead and abandoned me."

He slowly shook his head. "I can see where you're coming from, Julian. I can. She did break your heart, and we, not just she, did keep your fatherhood from you for a long time. Julian, I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am for that particular piece of selfishness on our part. You deserved better; my God you did and do. I hope, and so does she, that'll you'll let us be part of the healing process; and that's what it is, Julian: a healing process. You've just got to let us be part of it, please," he said.

"That'll be a very difficult thing to for me to do," I said. "Twenty-two years in prison. My manhood stolen from me by a bunch of very smelly bad guys. Having to live with a possibly deadly virus for which I have to take three different kinds of pills daily just to keep it at bay. All I can say Mister Willis, is that the abject humiliation of living with what I am is way, way, beyond your ability to understand."

"I am sure your right, Julian. I mean about me, or anyone, being able to completely understand the pain you live with every day. But I do 'realize' the truth that you are living with horrible emotional and soul crushing mental anguish. I do know it, even if, as you say, I can never fully understand it all," he said. "And that, sir, is the reason we, Ava and I, and Candace and Bea too, keep interfering in your private life, not just to make ourselves feel better. Really, sir," he said. "We want to help, really. And, Julian, I do believe that we can, all of us, be of help to you if you will let us."

"Frankly, I don't think you can be of help, Mister Willis. I accept that you would like to. But no matter what you do; I am still diseased, I am still dickless, I am still despairing of ever having a woman of my own.

"All I really have left, mister, are memories, almost all of them bad. I think it was George Santayana, the philosopher, who wrote that, 'Our memories and reflections are at base what create our futures'. I have to live with those memories and reflections, hopefully not too long, and then die. That, sir, is the main and real reason why I don't want Marian to live with me full time. It would be too hard on her, and by extension me either," I said.

We talked for a while longer and then he left swearing to do his best to help me to the extent that I would allow him.

Ava Willis was pacing in the kitchen. In the kitchen because it was near the coffee pot. Her husband, she was certain was going to be a while, but she wished such was not going to be the case. She had to know: would their "Marian" ploy work; had it worked; was there the slightest chance that it would work. They were dealing with Julian Willis, not an easy man to deal with, not easy at all.

She heard the car pulling in. She looked up at the clock; it was almost one o'clock. One minute later he was walking in. His look was somber; that could not be a good sign.

"Bad?" she said.

"No, not bad, but kinda inconclusive," he said. "The man has no faith that the glass can ever be half full."

"Shit!" she said.

"And Marian?" she said.

"She went shopping and left us alone. It was a good move on her part. And, yes, he is okay with her staying next door to himself."

"Well, isn't that a good thing?" she said.

"Yes, as far as it goes. But he does not want her moving in with him because he is of the opinion that no woman would be able to care about him long haul because of all of his downsides, not even Marian," he said. She shook her head.

"No hope then?" she said.

"I wouldn't say no hope, but maybe little hope. I think he wants to have her be the one; he just has no faith," he said. "It's hard to argue with him. His manhood cut away from him, HIV positive, a felony conviction for murder: not a lot of women looking for those attributes on a man's resume."

"Oh my God," she said, and she started to cry.

"So, you had a nice little talk," said Marian.

"I guess you could say that. He did get me to thinking," I said.

We were sitting at my mini-dinette table sipping our IPAs.

"Thinking?" she said.

"That maybe I could actually have a life after all. I mean one that was meaningful, decent. Okay for the long haul as it were; well, if I do still have a long haul to go," I said. She snorted her pissed-offedness at my wordology.

"Julian, I have a couple of things to say and you need to hear me out. Okay?" she said.

"Of course," I said. I had decided to go for it, a future. If it turned out that it just wasn't in the cards; well then… it wasn't. Hence my willingness to hear my maybe woman out.

"One: on the one hand you're HIV and I'm liable to a possible recurrence of my cancer. I know you know something about that because of your Angel. Those are our main downsides. Two: you're dickless; kind of a really big thing for a guy. And, I've lost my breasts; kind of a big thing for a woman I'm sure you will agree.

"On the upside, apart from arranging for me to be conveniently resident next door to you, Blake has funded a kind of partial reconstruction of my breasts. So, while I'm for sure not what I once was, if you were to catch me naked and without my bra, what you would see is a woman with the breasts of an eleven-year-old girl.

"He couldn't do anything about your dick, and I did ask him to see if anything could be done to help you out there. He couldn't. But the good news there, is the truth that we can still do the good stuff we were doing before our break up, and believe me it was then and remains now enough for me," she said.

"Huh? I mean really?" I said.

"Yes, really. Julian, I'm not really all that rich. The money you gave me is enough for us to do good enough so to speak. And as far as Ava is concerned. I'm prettier than she is except for the breasts' thing. But I am loyal and I do care about you and want to be your woman. So please, my man, lighten up a least in terms of us. Okay?" she said.

She'd actually said the right thing, the perfect thing: she said she was loyal. She hadn't been in high school, but we were middle aged now. I nodded my belief that she was telling it straight.

"Okay," I said. "We'll see how it goes. But all you've said here today, makes me feel like it could happen for us."

And then it was five months later and we were finally cohabiting. And we were doing good, both in and out of bed.

We'd gotten a number of visits over the months before moving in together. Visits from the Prescotts and the Laughlin Willis'. Now was one of those visits, and it was from Ava.

"So, Marian, you and our man still doing good?" said Ava.

"Yes, very good, I think. He still hasn't proposed, but I kinda get the feeling that he might pretty soon," she said. Ava sighed.

"Okay, okay, I sure would like to encourage him some way or other, but… " said Ava.

"No! Stay out of interfering in the private stuff," said Marian. "That would be the kiss of death to any chance I've got of ever getting him to be more than a friend."

"Yes, yes, I know. Blake says the same thing," said Ava. "Where is Julian now if I may ask?"

"He went to the market. He'll be back momentarily. He was driving out just as you drove in. I'm sure he saw your car, recognized it," she said.

The two women turned just as the door more or less slammed open.

"Ava," I said. "I saw you coming in a bit ago. Had to get a couple of things. Now we can all have a cup of coffee."

"Well, good, you don't want to be ruining your reputation as 'the' mister coffee," said Ava. I looked down.

That's what she used to call me when we were together going on three decades gone. Memories: they weren't all necessarily good things. I think she noticed my look but neither of us said anything.

"I'll make a pot," said Marian, who took the grocery bag and went into the kitchen. I fell into my rattan wonder-chair. I looked long at my ex-childhood sweetheart.

"Yes, I remembered your old nick name," she said and looked down. "I didn't mean too…"

"It's okay, old memories die hard," I said. She nodded.

"Julian, believe it or not, I have a few of my own, good ones," she said. I shrugged.

"That's nice," I said, and smiled.

"It's going to happen once in a while," she said. "I mean bringing up old memories from the clouds."

"I suppose," I said.

"We good?" she said. I shrugged again.

"Sure. I know you didn't mean to sting me. We're good." She nodded.

"How's everything at work and such?" she said.

"Good. Henry's good to me, and I make enough to get by," I said. She didn't bring up the obvious fact that Marian had a million bucks. Well, Marian and I weren't married, so, maybe that made sense.

"If it's not out of line for me to say so, I'm glad you two moved in together," she said.

"It's okay. I'm glad too. We do good even in bed," I said. She swallowed.

Just then Marian returned with the newly brewed coffees. It was clear to me that she'd allowed time for Ava and I to talk a little.

We all talked for a bit, but the conversation had turned into a truly mundane exercise. And Ava soon left. Her timing was good.

Chapter 46

"A nice visit then?" said Marian. I half smiled.

"It was okay," I said.

"Julian?" she said.

"Mister Coffee," I said.

"Our coffee maker?" she said.

"No, my ancient nick name. Back in the day I drank more coffee than anybody. She called me that," I said. Marian nodded.

"Yes, I remember, now you say it. So?" she said.

"Just brought back some memories of times that were, better than they got to be after the bad day," I said. "Kind of a case of nostalgia. No biggee, really." She nodded, but I knew she was thinking what I was thinking that it was going to be a real hard nut to get over the woman even though I was trying like the devil to do so."

I was at work and Marian was shopping-again. But this time with Bea.

"Now to go home and put everything away," said Bea, as the two of them were seated in a booth near a window at Denny's.

"Yes, the only bad part. And, Julian's working so he'll be no help," said Marian. Her friend snorted.

"At least you've got a man," said Bea.

"Yes, well, I hope so," said Marian.

"Problem?" said Bea.

"No, not really. But he keeps remembering stuff that I wish he'd forget," said Marian.

"Inevitable," said Bea. "You've got to help him create new memories to kind of overshadow the old stuff the bad stuff. It's the woman's job; I know you know that."

"I guess, and I am trying. I'm thinking of pulling a 'Bea'," said Marian.

"Huh?" she said.

"You know proposing to the guy. Time's gotta be right, but soon, hopefully," said Marian. "You know for a guy who's as strong as he is in so many ways, when it comes to her…"

"You best be right about the timing on any proposal unless he's the one making it. But as to him being weak kneed when it comes to her; well, I know what you mean. He gave his heart to her and she stomped it in the dirt. She didn't do it on purpose, but from his perspective, well, it was the worst thing that ever happened to him, almost anyway." Marian nodded.

"It's Julian-Blake's first birthday party next Saturday. Candace called to invite us. I temporized. Said I had to ask Julian," she said. "Ava will be there too for sure, and well, just another opportunity to be nostalgic if you get my drift."

"What? No? The baby is named after our man," said Bea. "You gotta go. I've been invited too. We can work together to keep the man on an even keel."

"Okay, okay, but I am more than certain it will take the both of us."

"So, you're doing okay, then," said Ava. "I mean even in bed."

"Yes, well, he's not the greatest lover in the world, but in other ways he is the greatest. He cares about me, loves me, I think," said Marian.

"I am so glad, so hopeful, that what you say is a true thing," said Ava. "He needs someone to love and be loved by."

"Yes, I'm aware," said Marian. "And I do love him; I think. Sometimes things get a little dicey when I see him ruminating on his past troubles, and his physical state. He gets kind of depressed which depresses me, but the good news is the depression usually doesn't last too long."

"All I ask is that you keep him focused on you. That's what he needs. You're what he needs. Blake and I are your back up, we are, and his too for damn sure; but we can only do so much. The rest is up to you, Marian. We, Blake and I, need you as much as he does," said Ava.

"I'm trying, and I think he is too, not sure about that; but I think he is. And, I am doing my best to get him to focus on me. He does think about you sometimes. He's even voiced your name in his sleep: kind of disconcerting actually. But I let it slide. I know the deal; he will never be completely over you. He sees as you betraying his trust and that for him is the biggee; Blake's in the mix, but not to the same degree as you.

"Too damn many years in prison for him to ever really forget everything, way too many years," said Marian. Her friend nodded, and it was a wistful nodding.

"We better get back inside. Time to cut the cake for Julian-Blake," said Ava. "Candace will be hunting us down."

"Yes, I expect she will be," said Marian.

They hadn't seen me. Nor had I actually seen them: I was relaxing for a few on pool couch near the fence. But I had heard everything they'd said. Food for thought, oh yes indeed, food for thought. I followed them in, but a full minute behind them, I didn't need them to know I'd heard them talking, not at this point.

"It would only be a few days before I would learn, or them either, that I was not the only one who'd been hearing them talking, and seeing them and me as it would turn out.

The cake was cut; the song was sung; the baby was hugged and kissed by virtually everybody. It was a good birthday number one for Julian-Blake.

She looked up at the calendar. It was Tuesday December 18th 2001, and somebody was buzzing the buzzer. She went to answer the door.

"Candace, this is a surprise," said Marian.

"Yes, I'd say I was in the neighborhood, but actually, I'm on a mission," said Candace. The look from Marian was all question!

"Okay," said Marian.

"The party, you and my mom talked. Julian heard it all, and, so did I," she said.

"Huh?" said Marian.

"It wasn't all that bad, what we heard. But it wasn't all good either. I have to ask. Has Julian said anything to you? Asked any questions? I mean you, know?"

"Uh… no, not that I can think of," said Marian.

"I know I sound kinda paranoid, but when it comes to dad, well… " she said. Marian nodded and walked back into the apartment leaving her visitor to follow. They had been standing and talking in the doorway.

"He heard us talking? I mean listened in on what we were saying?" said Marian.

"Yes, you were out on the patio and he was in a recliner in the yard near the fence. I guess he was taking a breather. Sometimes I know he tires more easily than at other times: his meds I think," said Candace.

"Yes, that is a true thing. But he usually shakes it off after a short time," said Marian.

"I heard you say that you think you love him. You also said he wasn't much of a lover. You need to figure out a way to reassure him about those two things, especially those two things," said Candace. Marian nodded.

"Oh boy. Okay, thanks for the heads up," she said.

"No problem, the good news is that there was no dissing of him by my mom; that would have been disastrous," said Candace. "He still can't get over what he heard that one time. I mean know you."

"Yes, it's been mentioned, and he did hurt bad for a long time afterwards. But, Jesus, as for what he heard at the party, I hope he didn't take anything I said as holy writ! Sometimes things go so well for us, other times the both of us have our, what, negative moments. But truly, they are not that negative, really. I hope he realizes that," said Marian.

"Yes, well me too. I think he does realize stuff as you say; but his heart is in a delicate state; probably will be forever at least to some degree. Anyway, I just needed to clue you in case," said Candace.

"Yes, and thanks a million for doing so," she said.

The two women talked for a good length of time about other stuff, and then Candace took her leave.

Ava closed the door gently behind her just having left guest, Marian Carton. Her visit had left her terrified. But should she be, terrified that is. Nothing so far had happened, been said, hinted at-nothing. There was just one thing to do: go on offense. Go at the man and in some manner or fashion reassure him of his place in the family, and for that matter Marian's. Yes, attack-attack-attack!

It was Tuesday and I was working and I was about to have a visitor. I knew that because I saw her parking and she was too rich to be spending her time at a place like the Sand bar, so she had to have a reason for being here. There was not the slightest doubt that "I" was the reason.

I was on duty and temporarily alone. Henry was at lunch. I poured her favorite cocktail as she came up to the bar and she smiled. She threw a ten-spot onto the bar's surface and waited while I put the picture of Hamilton into the tip jar.

"You're here to talk to Henry, right?" I said.

"Funny," she said, "But no, you'll do. And before you ask, I was in the neighborhood."

"Oh, I am so honored," I said.

"You should be. Your woman and I talk about you a lot; just so you'll know," she said. "And it's mostly good, so you can relax."

"Oh?" I said. "Well, that's reassuring. But you say mostly?"

"Well, we think you are almost perfect, but you do have a few small downsides," she said, and now she was smirking.

"I am well aware of that," I said. "No dick, a long prison record, an incurable disease, an ex-familia, and a lot of emotional baggage related to bad memories relating to being stabbed in the back. Yes, indeed, a lot of smallish downsides."

"Julian, I didn't mean… Julian none of those things are on you. None!" she said.

"What are you really here for, Ava. I'm working and I don't have time for nonsense, I really don't," I said. She sighed.

"Just checkin' to see how you are doing. Really. I still find myself in a place where I need to help you, actively care for you, but unable to do much more than maybe visit you here from time to time just to reassure you of my caring, because you won't let me do more than that," she said.

"Okay, you've reassured me. But I really do have to get back to work. But thanks for the reassurance," I said. "Okay?" She reached for her drink and downed half of it.

"Okay, I just wish you'd come by our place from time to time. I mean to reassure me, maybe, that you don't actually hate my guts," she said.

"Okay, I'll try and get by. Soon, okay?" I said.

"Yes, she said. She killed the last of the martini.

We shared a few more words about the Prescotts and then she was gone. As for reassuring me of anything, she failed, but she had got me to thinking.

I'd gotten me a call from Candace giving me the latest lowdown on how the Prescotts were doing: they were busy but doing great. She promised to drop by soon either at the bar or at our house. I let her know we'd be looking forward to it, the visit.

Candace also mentioned that she and her mom would be shopping on Sunday. I smiled even though she couldn't see me do so. Her words worked for me. I'd be visiting Blake. I had some points I was going to make clear to him. Oh yeah!

"Julian!" said Blake, as he answered the door himself.

"Yes, well, Ava asked that I drop by from time to time just to reassure you guys, her, that I was still, well, something," I said.

"Yes, she told me something of the same," he said. "So, how is your something?"

"Hmm," I said, and shrugged.

"Julian?" he said.

"When Ava came by and said what she said, it was clear to me that she knew that I'd overheard her and Marian talking at JB's birthday party," I said. Blake took a step back, and nodded.

"Want something to drink?" he said.

"A shot of something from Tennessee," I said. "I mean if you have any."

"I do," he said, and he went to get it. He got two glasses and the bottle. He poured and we sipped in silence for a long moment.

"Candace overheard too, and saw you over by the fence is what I heard," he said. "She clued Ava and Ava clued Marian if I have it right." I nodded.

"For the record nothing they said was untrue or especially hurtful. But there were a couple of things they agreed on that did sting a little, just a little. They might see it differently after the fact because it did clear some things up for me and decided me on some stuff," I said.

"Okay, okay, but you're not angry? I mean Ava did tell me some of the stuff they said, and well… " he said.

"Look Blake, I know I'm not much in bed. Can't help that. And, Marian being willing, not excited, but willing to be with me is okay. But that is not enough for me to be willing to marry her. Yes, she's handicapped too, but not as badly as me; she could find another guy, a healthier guy, a better equipped guy to hook up with. She and I will be talking about that.

"But to answer your question, no I'm not angry. Resigned I guess would be the right word.," I said.

"Julian you're reading too much into what you heard. Love is not just what a couple do in bed, not hardly," he said.

"Blake, I know that. But bottom line, I've just got too much baggage. Add to that, and I know you know this, the only woman for me is the one I gave my heart to going on thirty years ago; but you've got her, so I'm kinda in a tough spot.

"I do have a daughter who I do think sees me as her daddy. I have accepted the proposition that I am now part of the family Willis. I've got a decent job that I'm pretty good at and an okay place.

"If Marian wants to stay with me and do as we've been doing good. If not, if she finds someone else, and really I fully expect her to; I'll be good with that and good with them. That's the best I can do," I said.

"I take it I'm the first to hear about any of this?" he said.

"Yes, and I'm not going to be saying anything to any of them. I'm just going to go with the flow. But one thing, Blake… " I said.

"Okay?" he said.

"I'd appreciate it if you would just forget what I've told you today. You know, you just kinda go with the flow too. Figure I can count on you to do that?" I said.

"You mean not even Ava… " he said.

"I mean especially Ava," I said. "If she figures it out on her own down the line, well, okay, but otherwise no." He nodded. We drank and talked about nothing special for some time. He was inviting everybody under the sun to New Year's Eve dinner; I guaranteed that we'd be there.

New Year's Eve was great. Everybody had a ton of fun. But after that, well, it turned out that I was right.

My almost woman had met a guy, owned a store of some kind. They got it on and made the move. Well, she made the move. She was nice about it, but she moved out and into the other guy's place on the 15th of January. I was alone again, and like I'd said to Blake near a month gone; I was resigned to it. The Laughlin Willis' didn't get the word for a couple of weeks, that the result of Candace dropping by with my nephew and asking where Marian was. I told her. The shock was total.

And, of course I got the inevitable visit from Ava. The odd thing about that? The 15th of January was Ava's and my wedding anniversary. For some reason it almost seemed as if the gods were making a statement, sending a message, something.

"Julian, I don't know what to say," said Ava.

"Yeah, well, me either," I said.

"I'll get by. It's not like I'm not used to it. But please, no pity parties, okay. Just go with the flow. Okay?" I said. She nodded.

"Okay, there will be no pity party, or if there is, you won't be invited," she said. "That said, you will be getting more visits and invites. Hope you'll be up to at least cooperating on that level. Whaddya say?"

"Sure, got nothing else all that pressing on my calendar," I said.

And I did get visitors, regularly. And I did get a bunch of invites. I was even getting invites from Henry and his wife and Leona too who had finally found a man and married him.

Things were looking not too bad all things considered.

Over the next months I spent a lot of time at the park watching the ducks. I would never see Marian again, and, as far as I knew neither did any of the Laughlin Willis'. It was just as well.

One kind of odd thing. Ava did take me to dinner at least once a month. I got to where I was looking forward to those. I hoped that they'd continue. I wondered if Blake was aware. But, as for that, I was sure he was, probably his idea.

-----------------------------

   Series:Cameron and Manny
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Wife wants to be a prostitute, hubby is not enthused
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.web.archive.org/web/20170305051857/www.literotica.com/s/cameron-and-manny
Published:2021-08-06
Prologue:

Cameron were married seventeen years. No children, bills paid, house nearly owned. She's thirty-eight and I'm forty now. She's still a tawny haired beauty with B-cup boobs and the plumpest ass ever to have graced the backside of a 110 pound five-foot four-inch female woman! Her olive complexion is to die for and she smells like something descended from Mt. Olympus.

Our sex life was terrific through most of those years. Was, being the operative word. She eventually filed for divorce, that was two years ago, and moved out. So while we had indeed been married for fifteen years at that point, as I said, it was but six months after that that little reality will have became past tense.

Now, you might think that she left me because I was cheating. Maybe because she had to find herself. Maybe because I didn't make enough money: I'm a bartender. But you'd be wrong. Nor did she leave me because she was in love with somebody else. No, she swore she still loved me and only me; and, in her way I think that was true, and I am of the opinion it remains true even now.

No, she left me because of a career move she felt impelled to make. She wanted to be a prostitute! Not forced to be, not blackmailed into it, not talked into it—well, there were influences. She wanted to do it to enjoy herself and at the same time make good money. She felt, not unreasonably, that I wouldn't have been able to handle it, and so she left me. Well, she was right about my not being able to handle it. I hated it! But, that said, I can't bring myself to hate her. Go figure, but I just can't, even now.

Two years ago:

I'm meeting her in fifteen minutes. She wants to talk to me. I don't know what about. I mean we're divorced, almost. She didn't want anything from the house other than her personal stuff. She didn't ask for alimony or anything. We don't have kids, as I said, so there was no problem there. So I don't know what she wants now. But, I am curious.

"Want another drink, Manny?" said Rhonda. Rhonda Davis is the early shift bartender. She and I have worked together for these past many years. We love each other like brother and sister and have each other's back when the occasion requires it. She knows my situation and empathizes.

"Yeah, I guess, Rhonda. I mean I haven't come close to my limit of sixty-four beers in a day yet," I said.

Rhonda returned with the beer and set it in front of me. She looked up and past me. She nodded. "Incoming," she said. I turned. Cameron had come in and was looking around for me. She saw Rhonda who pointed me out to her.

My soon to be ex-wife slid in across from me. "Hi Manny. How are you today? You okay?" she said, by way of greeting.

I nodded. "Okay I guess. Yeah" I said. I just looked at her. She clearly wasn't dressed for business. Jeans, a t-shirt, and lightweight slip-on sandals, no socks.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," she said. She paused, and then jumped in. "I gotta ask again, are you okay? I know I hurt you, Manny, and I feel like a skunk for doing it. But, it is just something that I had to do. You know, like I explained before."

"Cam, I'm as good as can be expected. I miss you. I wish you hadn't done this to us. But, it's done now, and I guess we have to move on, both of us," I said, sounding far more logical than I felt.

"Yes, well, I miss you too, if it comes to that," she said. "Manny, I need a favor. It can work to your benefit too if you want," she said.

I was immediately suspicious. She'd killed my heart. Divorced the hell outta me. Disgraced me, my family, hers, the whole damn world; but now, she needed a favor and apparently I was the only one in the whole wide world who could supply it! Well, the gods do move in mysterious fucking ways.

"Huh?" I said.

"A favor, Manny. It won't cost you a dime," she said.

"Can I ask you something, first?" I said.

"Sure, anything, honey buns," she said.

"You know—our love life—it wasn't enough for you? I mean, I thought it was. I thought we did good," I said.

"Truth?"

"Yes," I said, and I knew I shouldn't have.

"Manny, I could hardly even feel you're little four-inch dick inside of me. You tried hard, and you were marvelous with your mouth and tongue. But, overall…"

"You sure no how to hurt a guy," I said.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Manny. Believe me, Manny, that is the last thing I want to do. You are a wonderful guy. Any girl but me would be tickled to death to have you and to hold you. But, you asked, and I will never lie to you. Not ever, no matter what," she said.

Why couldn't she be like other women and lie to me. But, she was right, I'd had to ask. Talk about dumb shit moves. "Yeah, well, fucking wonderful."

She looked at me. I could tell that she was sad she'd felt she had to tell me something that she knew would hurt me, and that hurt her.

"Okay, what's the favor that little dick here can do for you?" I said.

"Manny—I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you again. But, you are to honest and good a man to treat like an idiot. I will not lie to you. Not for anything."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay get on with it," I said, trying not to cry.

She nodded. "You remember Calvin, right?" she said.

"Yeah, the asshole who influenced you to get involved with this escort stuff," I said.

"Yes. Well, you're right. He did turn out to be an asshole. He dumped me. My pimp dumped me. Can you believe it!"

"Oh my, that's absolutely horrible! I don't know how you can stand it," I said, as sarcastically as I could.

"Manny, you don't have to be so sarcastic and mean," she said. "I was never nasty to you."

I looked at her like she was crazy. "Not nasty to me? You dumped me to become a goddamned street walker! I'd call that supremely nasty," I said, trying to hold on to some semblance of dignity and failing miserably.

"I'm not a street walker, Manny, too dangerous. I make dates, and then only with men who have been vetted. I needed a pimp for that though, and Calvin let me down," she said. She said it like it was some kind of minor business failure. Like she'd only have to call HRO to get a replacement. But, she soon disabused me of that thought. "That's why I'm here."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" I said. I had a thought, and I laughed. "Hah! You probably want me to fill in."

She wasn't laughing. "Exactly."

It took me a minute. I think my mouth was hanging open. It was definitely dry. I had to be dreaming. My wife, soon to be ex-wife, had left me to become a prostitute. She'd had a pimp who'd arranged—uh—clients for her. The pimp had blown town. Now she wanted me to pick up the slack and pimp for her. To say that words failed me would not come close to describing my confused state. I couldn't talk, not at first.

"Manny? I know this is a strange request, but…"

"Strange? Strange request? It's fodder for Guinness. Let me answer you this way, "Get the fuck outta here!"

"I know I've shocked you. But, someone has to do it for me, and there are not too many people I would trust, like you. In fact there aren't any," she said. "Please, give it some thought. I know when you think about it you'll want to help me. And, in case it matters, Manny, you'd be making a lot of money!"

"Cameron Lee, get the fuck outta here before I call the cops and have you picked up."

"Okay, I'm going, but please think about it. I'll be back soon. I need you," she said.

I sat there stunned. Rhonda arrived like some kind of guardian angel with another mug. I sloshed it down fast and furious. I needed something. Like I said, my mouth was dry.

"What'd she want?" said Rhonda.

"You wouldn't believe it," I said.

"Try me," she said.

"She wanted me to pimp for her."

Rhonda couldn't contain herself, she broke out laughing. "You know, Manny, it wouldn't be the first time a husband pimped out his woman," she said, as she gained back a measure of self-control.

I looked at her like she was some kind of crazy person. "Not me," I said.

**

I didn't hear from Cameron for two weeks. I figured she'd gotten the message that I didn't want anything to do with her offer. I was wrong.

I was sitting in my living room watching Alabama and Arkansas go at when the door bell rang. Getting up to answer it I spilled my beer and swore.

I opened the door, and she was past me before I could slam it in her face.

"You really need to stop that swearing, Manny, it doesn't become you. What's that I smell—beer?" she said.

"Yeah, when I got up to answer the door for you, I spilled it. "Thanks a helluva lot.

"Whaddya want, Cameron. I told you I wasn't interested in your proposal and I'm still not. Call me little-vanilla-dick," I said.

"Geezsus, Manny, is your male ego that fragile? If I'd realized how sensitive you were about the size of your cock, maybe I would have lied to you," she said.

"That's my wife, always thinking of new ways to belittle me," I said.

"You're right. That was uncalled for. Got a beer for me?" she said, settling into the easy chair next to the couch. "And, I am sorry for belittling you before. I really mean it," she said.

"Look can we forget about my cock. It's never going to bother you again, so I don't see any reason to keep on bringing it up," I said.

"Okay, you're right again. I'm an idiot," she said.

I wanted to say she'd get no argument from me, but it was too easy. I let it slide. "So what do you want?" I said.

"First I need a place to shack up for a couple of days. Any chance you might have mercy on me?" she said.

"What's matter, the hooking business not paying very well these days?" I said, adding as much sarcasm as I could.

"Not exactly, when Calvin ran off, he took all of my money: almost $10,000," she said.

"So, have you stopped hooking?" I said.

"Temporarily. I won't do it without a pimp. I need you, Manny. You gotta help me out."

"No."

"No? No what?" she said.

"No, I don't have to help you out. I ain't pimping for you. But, you can shack up here until you can find a place. You know where the guest room is. Go there. Hide out. I wanna watch my game," I said.

"Who's playing?" she asked. We used to watch together; she was a fan too.

"Bama and Arkansas," I said.

"Can I watch too? I mean with you?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess, but don't be buggin' me about that other thing, and I mean it," I said.

"You got it. Never during a game," she said, qualifying her promise.

**

The game ended, Bama won, but just barely. She cheered like a teenager. It brought back memories.

I headed upstairs to bed, "Night, Cameron," I said. I heard her say goodnight back to me.

Around 2:00 in the morning I was awakened. Cameron was sliding into bed beside me. "I need for you to cuddle with me; I'm lonely and a little frightened," she said. She pushed her tush back into me, and I felt my little soldier betray me. What the hell, she was a damsel in distress. I wasn't much of a knight in shining armor, but I guess I would do for the night. I heard her giggle.

She turned toward me. "I'm in the mood," she said. "I think maybe you are too." She said this while her hand surrounded my cock and began hosing it lightly and slowly. She did a 180 and forced her pussy back onto my face. My mouth began sucking at her clit while my nose ground itself into her sweet smelling rose bud.

He tongue licked and flicked over the surface of my cock and them by balls. I was so hard I could have drilled a hole in a sheet of one-inch plywood no problem.

Another 180 and she was riding my totally inadequate 4.6 inches like the cowgirl she was! I played with her tits squeezing them like a kid squeezes a bath toy hoping it will make a noise; they did, she squealed. She paused to shudder; I was sure it was an orgasm, short lived though it was. She was hot, very hot. Just as she came down from her high, I unloaded into her. Fuck! she was a good screw. She was going to make a lot of money, I was sure. She collapsed on top of me.

"Was that good for you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Is that a serious question?" I said. "But, I have one for you. Was that a real orgasm you had? Don't lie."

"You bet little man. You bet. Truth is, it's kinda rare for a man to get a woman off with his dick, even if the dick is sizable. Most men can't or won't control their own orgasms long enough. The woman has to be steaming hot, and I was tonight," she said.

I decided not to push my luck with any more dumbass questions.

We were both very tired; it was freakin' 2:30 in the morning for chryssakes!. We were out cold in minutes.

**

I was up and out before her. I knew she would want to talk, and boy could she talk the ass off of a horse or what. But that could wait; I wasn't up to it. I wanted the glow from the past evening—morning—to last a while: I'd been totally virginal since she'd left me.

I tooled into the house at around 6:00. She was in the kitchen making dinner. Hmm, how wifely of her. I went in to see.

"Feeling domestic today," I said. "Smells good."

"Yes. I guess so, I mean I'm feeling a little domestic. I just thought I'd make us something; I mean I am here freeloading; I have to do something to keep up my end, makes me feel better. I hope it's okay," she said.

"It sure smells okay. I'll let you know later," I said.

We ate in mostly silence, and I think it was killing her. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "Manny, I really, really do need your help. I'm afraid out there in the big world. I need a manager," she said. Talk about euphemisms.

"You mean a pimp, dontcha, Cam." It wasn't a question.

"That's just a nasty word, Manny. I need someone to make sure I don't get hurt out there. You know, so that the experiences are all good ones," she said.

"Cameron, listen to me. I am not into being a cuckold, especially not your cuckold. You fucked me over good, and I will be years trying to pick myself up from that. You are willingly into a lifestyle that is both dangerous and stupid. We're in the middle of a divorce because of all of this.

"Are you getting it, Cameron. What you've got to do is stop it. Tell you what. You stop all of this now and forever, and I will stop the divorce and I will take you back. But, you are going into therapy, no question about that," I said.

That stopped her. "You'd take me back?" she said.

I nodded. I don't know where my words came from, but I knew they were true.

She thought for a minute. I could see she was wrestling with whatever demon was possessing her. She slowly shook her head. "I can't Manny, I can't. I love it too much."

That was the last said that evening. The following day she was gone. As it turned out I wouldn't see her again for a long time. The divorce was final some months later, and she didn't show for it. She had just disappeared.

**

I was washing glasses behind the bar a year later when a cop came to see me. I knew he was a cop from the combination of the cheap suit and the undignified swagger. "Yes, officer," I said as he approached the bar. "What can I get you?"

"You Manny Kirkland?" he said. His eyes were taking in the place. I hated it when people talked to me but had their eyes somewhere else. I waited for him to look at me before I opened my mouth.

He looked back at me no doubt wondering why I was silent. "Did you hear me?" he said.

"I wasn't sure you were talking to me. You were looking everywhere but at me," I said.

"So?" he said.

"I'm sorry, so what?" I said.

"Are you Manny Kirkland?" He was miffed.

"Yes." I said. "And, you are?"

"Lt. Baxter.

"You got a wife named Cameron?"

"No. Did once, but we're divorced," I said. "What's this all about?"

"Somebody beat her nearly to death. Divorced you say?" said the copper.

"Yeah—beaten!—Wh—Wh—Why? Who?" All of a sudden I felt guilty.

"Yeah. But if you're divorced—She said you were her husband. She had a paper on her, in her purse. It said to call you in case of emergency. That's all I know, bub," he said.

"Look—where is she? Is she going to make it?" I said.

"Guy," he was being nicer all of a sudden, "you knew she was hooking, right? I mean we think it was one of her Johns."

"Sweet Geezsus! I have to get to her. Where is she? Can you tell me?" I said.

"County General. As for is she going to make it, you have to speak to the doctors about that," he said. "But she's in real bad shape; that I can say."

I was already gathering up my keys and heading out. I called back to Rhonda to cover for me. It was a thirty minute drive to the hospital. I was directed to third floor—intensive care.

The door was glass and I could see a nurse inside fiddling with some monitor or other. Cameron was covered with a light sheet; her face was twice its normal size and totally black and blue. Even from outside the room, I could see one of her eyes was bandaged up. This was my ex-wife, but she was also a woman, a girl, helpless against almost any man; and some imitation of a man had beat her bad, real bad! I wanted to kill. All I could think of was my impotence to do anything about it. I wanted revenge.

Cameron had brought this on herself. She was an idiot, but for all of her stupidity she did not deserve this, nobody did except the man that did it to her. I knocked softy. The nurse motioned me in. I entered.

"Two minutes," she whispered in my ear. I nodded. I went to the bed. I didn't try to touch her. I was afraid.

The nurse stepped out to give us privacy. "I love you little girl," I said. "You're a complete idiot, but your husband loves you—ex-husband." Tears flooded my eyes, I was helpless to do anything about it. All too soon, the nurse returned and gently shooed me out. I sought out the doctor.

**

"Dr. Moss is it?" I said by way of introduction.

"Yes, and you are?" He said.

"Manny Kirkland. Cameron Kirkland's husband," I said. Of course it was a lie, but I figured God would forgive me.

"Yes, oh yes," He said. "You've seen your wife?"

"Yes. She's hurt bad. Can you give me…"

"Mr. Kirkland. Unless we run into any unforeseen complications, I think your wife will be all right, but it's going to be a long haul I'm afraid. She has massive internal injuries. Whoever did this kicked her often and hard while she was down."

"Do you know if the police have got the guy?" I said.

"No I don't. They've been here looking for evidence, but I don't think they've been able to figure it out yet," said Dr. Moss. I was pretty sure they, the cops, wouldn't be trying too hard: she was just another unlucky whore to them.

"Doctor, do you think I could stay with her. You know sit with her in the room. I wouldn't disturb anything," I said.

He looked to be thinking it over. "She's seriously hurt, Mr. Kirkland. Normally we like to have a patient in her state as quiet and undisturbed as possible. But, maybe it would be good for her to have you in there. I guess I can okay that. I'll inform the nurse's station," he said.

"Thank you doctor," I said. I hurried back to the ICU.

**

Over the next several days, Cameron came out of it several times, but each time only briefly. And, each and every one of those times the nurses would scurry and the doctors would appear as though from nowhere. And finally, on the sixth day, I was dozing; but for some reason, or no reason, I awakened to see two dark brown eyes peering at me. She smiled weakly in my direction. "Hi, my friend," she squeaked.

"Hi to you too," I said. "How are you feeling? No, don't talk, let me call the nurse." She smiled gamely.

I reached for the button and seven seconds later a white clad angel of mercy came in. She shooed me out, but I could tell from her demeanor that this time Cameron might have finally beaten the devil.

I waited just outside the door, not in the waiting room where they had initially tried to send me. The doctor came out.

He smiled at me. "It looks good," he said. "We'll keep her here for a few more days, run a couple of tests, and if all goes well, you can take her home."

I looked at him with a question in my mind. Home? With me? I knew then that I would be taking her home, but I had no idea for how long or really if she'd even go with me. I just said, "Sure doctor. Absolutely."

They had given her another sedative to let her rest, but at least she was out of the semi-coma that she had been in since her arrival. It was on the ninth day that I was able to talk with her at some length.

"You'll be released tomorrow," I said. "I will take you home with me. You're gonna need some help for a while."

"That's nice of you," she said. "Especially after all I've put you through."

"Yeah, well there will be rules," I said, knowing I had to take control or she would be back here again almost certainly and maybe in the downstairs morgue.

"I know, Manny. I know," she said.

"Can you tell me what happened?" I said. "The cops are going to want to know too," I said.

"It was Calvin," she said. "He did this to me. He came back and wanted to resume our business arrangement among other things. But, I told him to get lost. He didn't take it very well. And…"

She hadn't lost her talent for understatement. "I guess not," I said. "But I thought you wanted a pimp."

"He'd robbed me, and I knew he would again. Plus…"

I waited, and she looked at me with a growing sadness showing in her eyes. "I told him wasn't going to do it anymore," she said. "I told him I was through. That's when he lost it and beat the hell outta me."

I was having a hard time getting my head around what she had just said. My brilliant response was, "Huh?"

"You were right all along, Manny. It was a horrible life. I had some fun in the early going, but it soon palled. There was nothing in it but the money after a while. And, as I discovered, Money was not the most important thing to me anymore. I needed more, a lot more," she said.

"More?" I said. "What more?"

She stared at the ceiling for some moments. "Love, Manny, Love."

I looked down, I couldn't let her see me tear up. "Who is he?' I asked. "Why isn't he here?"

She had that sad look again. "Manny, he is."

"Huh?"

"It's you," she said. "I know we're divorced. I know you can't stand what I've done. I've hurt you a dozen ways and as many times. But, I was wrong. I don't expect you to take me back. I just need you around me for a while, while I get my bearings."

"You got it, kiddo. I'll always be there for you. But, if you are really quitting the business, I am going to insist that you get counseling. No arguments," I said.

"Yes, sir," she said.

**

I had another agenda. Cameron had been interviewed by the cheap suits, but they didn't seem overly interested in breaking a sweat trying to solve the case. I, on the other hand, had every intention of solving it; and that with or without any help from them.

The ride home was not exactly lively but we didn't stop talking, really almost arguing. I wanted to know all about Calvin, and she didn't want to tell me anything.

"Manny, Calvin is twice your size, and he doesn't fear anything. He's a very serious dude. I don't want you going after him. The police can do that," she said.

"Maybe they will and maybe they won't, Cam, but this guy has got to pay. And, I'm willing to bet a million bucks that you aren't the first woman he's done this to. So tell me. I promise I won't hurt him too bad," I said, smiling and trying to lighten things up a little.

She let go of an exasperated sigh. "He has a place, or did until he disappeared. It's downtown, on fifteenth east. The Harmon apartments. Fourth floor I think. Don't remember the exact number." She turned in her seat to look at me, and I could see her grimace. "Manny, he carries a gun. He carries it all of the time. Do not go after this guy. He comes from a world you don't know anything about," she said, finally.

"Don't worry. I don't know what I'm going to do exactly, not yet, but I won't be taking any chances," I said.

Pulling into the driveway, I helped her out of the car. She was ambulatory but barely. Getting her up the stairs and into the bedroom where she was going to rest for a couple of days minimum was a bit of a challenge. But we got it done.

It was strange her laying there. She hadn't been in my bed in so long it was like she was a stranger. For sure she wasn't the same woman I'd married a thousand years before. Nor was she the same woman that had walked out on me to become a whore. It was going to be real strange for a while, and real iffy as to how things would turn out. Yes, I know, I could have put her in the guest room, but somehow that didn't seem right. She'd be sleepin' with me, and that was the long and short of it.

**

I called Rhonda. She and I knew a few people and I asked her to find me Jill Armstrong; they'd been tight a few years back, and what I was going to ask for needed the personal touch. Jill used to be a regular at the bar and she was also a private-eye. She'd find good 'ole Calvin for me, and more, she'd find the dirt on him that I was really after; and that before the police ever got a whiff.

The call had brought me to the bar and she was sitting near the front rubbing out a cigarette and nodding for the bar girl to bring her a refill; she was apparently drinking martinis.

I strode over to her. "Hi, Jill, haven't seen you in a long time," I said.

"Hello, Manny. Yeah, it has been a while. Been busy. So how have you been," she said.

"I've been better. Rhonda say anything to you?" I said.

"Not really. Said you and the wife had problems, but that was about it," said Jill.

"Problems? Not even close," I said. "More like a shit storm of problems, and I have no idea how I am going to get by them or how it will all end up or whatever."

She eyed me for the longest minute. "Okay, so what can I do to help?" she said, slowly.

I gave Helen a signal to bring us a round. After she had done that, I launched into the short version—which wasn't all that short—of what had been going on for the last year plus. Now, Jill was an experienced PI. She'd seen about everything one in her line of work could see. She was nevertheless shocked to hear my tale of woe.

"Sweet mother of God!" she said, not attempting to hide her feelings. "So at least you have an old address. Okay. And, you want to find this asshole before the cops get their hands on him. Why?"

"I want to talk to him about his, uh, behavior," I said. Jill eyed me once again for a long moment.

"You plannin' on doin' somethin' inappropriate, Manny?"

"No, but he's gonna know not to mess with my wife again. And, I'm gonna turn his evil ass over to the cops. After we have our little conversation of course," I said.

"Okay, I'll find him for you. But, no wild ass revenge shit, or you'll never see me again. Okay, am I clear?" she said.

"Good, I appreciate it," I said. "And, yes, you're very clear."

We spoke for a few more minutes. She laid it on me as to the cost for a search of this kind: $200 a day and expenses. I agreed, we downed our drinks and she got up to leave.

"One more thing, Manny. No weapons. Leave 'em at home," she said. I nodded my agreement.

I didn't hear from Jill for three days. But on the third day, I got the call.

"He's living in a small upscale apartment, not the one you gave me, but nearby: 1411 Delano street, number six; it's upstairs.

**

I sat out in the car thinking. Jill's warning was clear in my mind, and Cam's too if it came to that: he'd almost certainly be armed. I made up my mind; my approach would be two pronged. First, I'd make sure he knew the police were aware of where I was and who I was with, and second, I'd confront him. I pulled out my cell and made the call. The tire iron I held in my right hand was partially hidden, as I kept it held tight next to my leg; it was my equalizer and argument arbitrator. The call connected.

I knocked on the door as soon as Lt Baxter, the cop from the hospital answered. The door opened, a tall black man stared at me. "Yes… Lt. Baxter… this is Manny Kirkland… yes, I'm at 1411 Delano Street; it's Calvin Goode's place… yes… I'm letting you know in case anything untoward happens… " I hung up.

"What the fuck," said the man in front of me. I put my booted foot in the door and he couldn't close it. I pushed and went in.

"As you heard the cops know where I am, and they are undoubtedly already loading up to get here. You got no hope of getting away now, asswipe," I said. He reached into the back of his waist band. My hand flashed and he went down like a sack of wet cement. I rolled him over and threw hi gun onto the seat of the nearby recliner.

He started to come around, but he was obviously in a great deal of distress. I hadn't hit him that hard, but evidently it had been hard enough.

"And, as I was about to say, asshole, if anything happens to me, they'll know who to look for first. But, it does look like that isn't going to be a worry." I wasn't quite laughing at him.

"Think you're pretty clever don't you," said Calvin.

"More clever than thou art," I said, smiling like a possum. "You don't have much time, I'm thinking. I wanna beat the living shit out of you for messin' with Cameron, but I guess I have to let the cops have their shot at you first—uhoh—maybe not now, I guess. I promised a friend I wouldn't mess you up too much though."

He looked me over and was clearly thinking about trying to take me down. He thought better of it, and settled back against the wall. "Why'd you come? Why not send the cops and let them do your dirty work?" he said.

"Oh they will. But, you have made a good point. I'm here because I want to know why you beat up Cameron. I can't believe it's because she wanted to quit your little game," I said. "And, I wanted to see the face of the slimeball up close and personal before he was taken away."

He laughed. "You don't know anything do you?" said Calvin.

"Enough," I said.

"Right—not," he said. "Cameron and I are engaged. Did she tell you that?"

I could feel my face darken. "You're a lying piece of shit, Calvin. But even, if so, the beating makes even less sense."

"It does if you catch her fucking around on you," he said. He perked up when he heard sirens in the back ground. "And, did she tell you she robbed me."

My look was my answer.

"That's what I thought," he said. "You need to take a lot closer look at your honey," he said. "She is not who you think she is."

The door was open and two uniforms, guns drawn entered and took Calvin into custody.

I followed them out. One of them said something about someone wanting to talk to me.

"Mr. Kirkland," said Lt. Baxter, "I will need to know how you found our friend there," he said, motioning in the direction of the retreating uniforms and their prisoner.

"Simple, I hired a PI," I said. "You guys didn't seem all that interested in pursuing the matter, so I did. He cannot be allowed to get away with what he did," I said.

The look that the police lieutenant gave him was hard to read. "We'll be talking," said Lt. Baxter.

**

I pulled into the driveway a half hour later. The last thing I wanted to do was pin Cameron about Calvin Goode's claims. But, I didn't see a choice. I'd go easy, but I had to know. And, if any of what he said was even partly true, it would come out in court anyway. I didn't want it to be biting me in the ass, nor Cameron either for that matter.

She was sitting on the patio swing holding a soda when I arrived. I coughed so as not to startle her. I did anyway.

"Manny! I didn't hear you," she said. She started to get up, but she was still somewhat unsteady and sat back down. "Are you okay? You look funny."

"I'm fine, Cam. Cam, we got him," I said. "He's in custody."

Her face showed surprise and something else—fear. "Really? How—what?"

"I have friends, Cam. You know that. It wasn't very hard. He may be a tough guy to you, but in the end he didn't even try to run. Well, not after I dented his head—slightly. And of course the cops were just minutes behind me, and he knew it."

"Really?"

"Cam, he said some things…"

She started to cry.

"He said you were engaged?" It was a question. "Was that true?"

"Manny, it's true but that was before. I thought you'd be getting on with your life after—after I left. I needed someone who would have me for what I am—was. I thought he loved me. But, he only loved what I could do for him: make money. I told him we were through a half dozen times, but he just wasn't going to believe me," she said.

"He said you stole money from him," I said.

"That's a lie! He took my money. I just took some that he had stashed in the refrigerator, maybe five hundred," she said. "It was just a small part of what he took from me. And, when he found out, he nearly beat me to death."

What she was saying made sense, so far. "He said the reason he beat up on you was because he caught you cheatin on him," I said.

Her laughter at that was almost hysterical. "Right! And all the booty he was chasing wasn't cheating on me," she snickered. "Yes, he caught me with another guy. It was a revenge fuck, but he didn't even get mad, not at me. He beat the guy pretty bad though, and it was one of his friends. I think it might even have been like a distant relative or something; I'm not sure. No, he beat me because of the five hundred. Nobody messes with his income, or what he considers his income."

I was feeling uneasy about what she was saying. She whored herself out and left me, but she was fighting with him because he was unfaithful to her. Her logic was so twisted it was almost incomprehensible. I loved her, but she needed help, and a lot of it before I would allow her back on anything like a permanent basis. She seemed to read my mind.

"It worries you doesn't it?" she said. "I mean my behavior."

"Yes, it does, Cam. Yes, it does. The stuff you're talking about borders on the socially criminal. Violence, thievery, whoring, irrational relationships: all of it is so bizarre," I said.

What I did know, is that she had been beaten to within an inch of her life, and that by a man whose word of honor would always and in any possible world be suspect. The question now was, could I believe she had given her sordid idea of an exciting life up? I had mixed feelings, but time would tell.

**

Things settled down after the initial arrest of Calvin. He made bail, but stayed away from us; he had little choice.

Cam healed. The process was slow, and she was seeing her doctor monthly at first, then bi-monthly. She was also, at my insistence, seeing a Psychologist about her sexual peccadilloes. I was asked to join her at some of these sessions, and I was glad to do so. I needed to know where she was coming from, or had come from, so I could deal with it should the dragon, at some point in the future, rear its ugly head.

We were living together but not remarried. It was kind of an agreement between us that if that should ever happen it would happen, but we weren't going to push it. She was not overly upset by my feelings in this regard which kind of surprised me. I laid it off to her not wanting to pressure me. I should have known better.

About a year after the incident, as we had taken to referring to it, Cameron approached me about getting a job. She took one as a secretary and girl Friday at an insurance company. Problems began to surface some months after she took the job.

Cameron started coming home at odd hours. Occasionally, it was as much as three hours later than normal. She said it was work related and not to worry myself over it. I didn't at first. But later, it became so routine that I had to become suspicious. I began checking phone records. It was there that I found my first clues.

Her cell had a certain number that recurred every evening at about the same time Monday through Thursday and never on weekends. Work related? Maybe. But I wasn't feeling right about it. It was always after work hours. I had the bad feeling she was cheating on me, maybe even once again whoring herself out. I had to know. I called Jill.

"Hello," I said, as I answered the phone. "Yeah… oh Jill… okay whatcha got?… Oh shit… okay… I'll be there shortly… uh… five minutes."

Breaking most of the traffic laws set forth by the thoughtful and caring members of the state legislature, I made it to where my bought and paid for spy, Jill, was waiting for me. Fortunately, none of the police vehicles in this part of the state were capable of catching my stock 1962 Datsun pickup.

I pulled up alongside Jill's Jag. I got out, went to the passenger side of her car and got in.

"They're in there," she said, "room three."

"Get any pictures?" I said.

"Yeah, a couple. They were kissing and feeling each other up. They didn't seem to care who saw them," she said. "Manny, she's cheatin' on yuh."

I was sick, sick to death. I'd tried, I'd tried, I really had; and I got nuthin' for the effort. "Can I see the pictures?" I said. She handed me the digital.

"Press here," she said. I did.

"Aw shit. It's that muthafucka Calvin Goode. Aw shit!" Well, if I hadn't been sick before I was now. Real sick. And now I was also mad.

"I'm headed home, Jill. Do me a favor. Stay here and get some more pics and audio too if you can. I mean we're divorced, but I want the evidence anyway." I got out, went back to my car, and drove home. I had some things to do and to prepare for.

I looked at the clock it was almost nine o'clock. She'd outdone herself this time. Must have been his cock, I guess. He'd only spent a year in the slam for beatin' the hell outta her, that thanks to a federal judge who thought that overcrowded jails were inhumane. And now he was fuckin' her. One had to love it. I mean who'd believe it. I couldn't believe it and I knew it was true.

I'd been done packin' her bags for over an hour. I figured that that was the least I could do for the woman who had cuckolded me and that early and often and was still doing it. I was drained me of every last ounce of emotion and spirit that I had at last and painfully been able to summon up. That particular vain effort had finally robbed me of the wife and companion that I needed and needed badly.

I knew exactly what she was going to do and say when she got home, and I didn't want to hear it. Not this time. Not this time.

I heard her car pull up into the driveway. She keyed the lock in the door and entered. "Honey, sorry I'm late," she said when she saw me sitting on the couch. I was relaxing by this time with a shot of vodka and a Lite beer chaser.

"Honey?" she repeated when I didn't say anything.

I looked over toward the hall. She saw the suitcases sitting there. "Honey? What's going on?" she said.

"You're moving out," I said, "and I'm going to bed. I've packed your things. I don't think I missed anything, but if I did, you can call and arrange a time to come by and pick them up. Oh, the bag there is your dirty clothes. I knew you'd probably not want them in the suitcases."

"Manny—I—what—what?"

"You're a cheating whore, woman. And with the asshole who beat the livin' hell outta yuh. I can't even believe it. Nobody could believe it. Hell you're worse than he is," I said.

"Manny what are you talking about?" But, she could see the jig was up. She was playing her last card. But she was drawing to an inside straight against a table full of tight stayers.

"Cameron, just leave, okay. I've had enough of you. I can't do it anymore. I saw you. At the Moonlight motel. Tonight. So fuck off." She fell onto the couch and started crying. Yep, I'd been right, that was exactly what I figured she'd do: lie and cry; it was her favorite strategy.

"Manny!" she wailed. But I was already halfway up the stairs and not listening.

I don't know how long she stayed downstairs and cried, but at around 3:00AM I got up to pee. I went downstairs to the bathroom there and she was gone, and so was her luggage. I had never felt so low.

**

I was working the early shift. Rhonda was on too. I hadn't seen Cam for some time, maybe six or seven weeks. I was settling down. Rhonda and I were both behind the bar when she came in.

"Heads up, sailor, bogey at 3:00," said Rhonda. I had to remember to ask her where she'd picked up all of the military jargon she kept using.

"Hello, Manny," said Cameron, as she took a seat at the bar. She nodded to Rhonda.

"Whaddya want, Cameron?" I said. "And, where's your true love, Calvin?" I sneered. "Let me guess. He ran off again, and left you high and dry."

"Manny, I—can we talk privately? I have something to say to you," she said.

"Let me guess. You're sorry? You'll never do it again? It was only sex; it had nothing to do with you and me? My little dick doesn't do it for you, so please excuse you if you have to cheat every once in a while? Am I close on any or all of those?" I said.

"I know how you feel, Manny. I betrayed you, and I did it without any worthwhile excuse whatsoever. But you're right about one thing, I am sorry," she said.

"Okay, I forgive you; now hit the road. I'm busy," I said.

"Please, Manny, please talk to me. Just a few minutes. Okay?" she begged.

"I looked at my watch. You've got five minutes," I said. "Then I want you outta here forever."

We adjourned to a table toward the back. I noticed Rhonda eyeing me disapprovingly. Well, I didn't blame her; I shouldn't have even been talking to the woman. But, I figured what the hell; I really wanted to hear her try to justify what she did. She disappointed me: she didn't follow her usual script.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we?" she said.

"What's this we shit? We're not a pair of anything," I said, as harshly as I could. She just smiled benignly. She must have figured on my initial reaction. "So where is your ex-con?"

"He's at the apartment," she said.

"So you're still together. That surprises me. I thought you were here to try and get back with me," I said.

"I am—sorta," she said.

"Huh? I don't get you? What are you talking about?" I said.

She looked down; she looked up, she looked down again. She spoke. "Manny, I know you love me. I also know, that you know, that I can't be faithful, at least not for any length of time."

"Fuckin'-A!" I said. This was getting good.

"So, I've come up with a solution," she said. I must have looked confused.

"I want to remarry you," she said, "but I will occasionally, but only occasionally, and with your complete knowledge and consent—allow another man or other to have me. Like I say. it'll just be but once in a while." She smiled, and looked me right in the eye. She was certain that she had just come up with the perfect formula for a successful union of man and woman.

I was speechless. Not only speechless, but thoughtless, and numb and stunned and really really pissed off!

Rhonda on the other hand, who had been delivering refills to the next table, was not devoid of aural abilities. "Cameron," she said, "love you dear. But if you don't get the fuck outta here, I'm gonna rip off your arms and beat you to death with them." She said all this with the kind of quiet demeanor that intimated that she was not bluffing.

"I beg your fucking pardon!" shouted Cameron.

Not Billy the kid, not Wild Bill Hickok, not John Wesley Hardin, not anybody had ever had a hand that moved that fast. The palm of Rhonda right hand landed with such speed and force that Cameron's airborne form cleared three one-foot square floor tiles before her rectiflorifus skidded to a halt against the back of a chair.

Cameron picked herself up. She looked at me for support. I just smiled and raised my open palms as witness to my being helpless to help her. She huffed, threw her head back haughtily, and stormed out.

**

Rhonda came to me—I think my mouth was still hanging open. She paused looked at me with her hands on her hips. She turned in place 360 degrees facing me once again. "Well, if you're too dumb to see it, I guess I have to take the bull by the horns and get it done."

"Get what done," I said.

She got down on one knee and looked me in the eye. "Will you marry me Manny Kirkland?" she said.

I stared at her. "Is this planet Earth?" I asked, not unreasonably.

She smiled. I stood, and told her to sit. I went down on my knee. "Will you marry me?" I asked.

"Yes, yes I will," she said. "And, I thought you'd never ask." I pulled her down on the floor with me and we kissed for a long minute. "I love you," I said.

"I know, you just never did," she said.

"Well, I know it now," I said.

We were married a month later by a justice of the Piece in Amarillo, Texas. That was a year ago. Rhonda is pregnant, and between the two of us we are covered with bruises from pinching ourselves because we are so happy.

Cameron? She married Calvin. I see her every once in a while. They actually come by the bar. I'm not sure why. She says hi, and that's about it. I would love to know if Calvin is a cuckold like she wanted me to be. But, I'll never ask. Sooner or later someone is bound to tell me if such is the case. I'm a bartender for chrissakes! I'm privy to everything.

-----------------------------

   Series:Carol and Marvin
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She cheats with her boss and hubby sees--very bad news
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/57052/carol-and-marvin
Published:2008-07-10
Carol Caldwell slid into the booth next to the man. It was difficult to make out who he was, but it was definitely someone she knew. The spit swapping that was taking place was proof of that. What it definitely was not, was me doing the kissing. Who am I? I'm her husband, and I am watching them from across the darkened barroom seated in a booth cattycorner to theirs. I wanted to vomit.

I was supposed to be out of town till Sunday next, seven days hence, but I had gotten a headsup from a female friend, who works with my wife, that she, my wife, was not who or what I thought she was. So, I'd cancelled my trip to San Francisco and set myself up to follow her and find out for myself. Geezsus! I thought to myself, as I watched them, 18 years of marital bliss and fucked over by some asshole and my very own wife, make that my very own slut wife! I was angry, sick, heartbroken, and viscerally determined to not sit still for this kind of treachery. I would come out the winner here-fucking-A I would!

Still in the back of my mind I knew I was going to have a hard time screwing her over. I'd slept with her, worked with her, put Christmas trees up with her, smelled her for two decades; the psychological and emotional investment in her was enormous. I had to find out the why this was happening. I had to see if there was some way, any way, that I could salvage our marriage.

Here I was on the verge of divorce-probably. No amount of wishful thinking on my part was going to change that. The reality was, that even if I were to want to save the marriage, I had no idea what she would do or want. I felt sick.

I got up and headed for the men's room; I did vomit thank gawd, at least now I wouldn't do it in the fucking car. As sick as my stomach was, though, my heart was sicker. There's nothing as hurtful in the relationships of men as the betrayal of trust by a spouse-nothing!

I had been married to Carol for near twenty years-eighteen is close enough: I was fifty-two and she was forty-nine. We had both been married before, but neither of those marriages had produced any children. Our girls, Jenny and Marie, had come to us near the end of our first year of marriage. They'd been a bit of a surprise, but a lovely one. The girls, I knew, had been our anchor, and we, Carol and I, adored them. Because of them and for any of a dozen other reasons, it had been my apparently erroneous conviction that "our" marriage was one of the good statistics. Well, it looked like that, in the final analysis, was not to be the case, at least not for much longer.

Returning from the head, I passed by right next to their table, I mean within three feet of them for chrissakes. I looked straight at them as I passed, virtually daring them to see me, but they didn't recognize me, engrossed as they were with each other. I, at that point, didn't give a damn one way or the other. I did get a good look at the man though; it was Julius Weathers, her boss at the insurance firm she worked for: good 'ole JW, as she usually referred to him.

Outside, in the parking lot, I took a deep breath. My Okinawan martial arts training worked for me now: the deep, controlled breathing. Breathing is integral to the martial arts; it is from the center of our being that the ki our inner power and serenity of mind proceeds. Proper breathing allows the individual to tap into this power this serenity. I know that sounds very unscientific, but it works: I felt a ton better.

I guess it's time I said something about myself. I'm five-six. I used to be five-seven, but somewhere along the way I lost an inch and I don't know why. I weigh in at about 160, and most of that is steel hard muscle. My feet have slowed some over the years, okay a lot; but not my hands. Just two things are faster than my hands, one of them is light the other scientists haven't come up with a name for yet. As for my face, well it's kind of messed up, but Carol always said I looked rugged; Till now I had cheerfully accepted her version of the facts.

I had taken up martial arts to stay in shape after my boxing career ended twenty years back. Carol knew I'd been a boxer before we met, but had never shown any interest in hearing about it apart from the simple fact that it was true. Since I had quit the ring more than two years before we met, it never came up in conversation.

As a prize fighter my record had not been sterling: 9-4-2. Two of those loses, though, had been against ranked opponents; I was the guy they came to for their tune ups. I had been a natural welterweight, but the tune ups had been against lightweights; both of the ranked guys had damn near killed me, but I had not gone down in either fight, and that had been my goal, just to go the distance and stay upright; I'd done that. Now, at my age, I am the inevitable middleweight; well, whaddya gonna do, I'm older now. I am; nevertheless and as I said, in pretty damn good shape. At the moment, I was thinking of how many ways I could take my aggressions out on Mr. Weathers. The man was at least six-two and maybe 240, so that would make the fight fair, right?

As for what I do now to earn a living, I'm a logistics engineer for a freight line-trucks not boats or trains. It's my job to see to it that materials and cargo get to where they are going as fast as possible and at as little cost and loss of product as possible. The job pays well, six figures, and the bonuses can be substantial. It wasn't money that was luring my wife into Mr. Weather's arms; I knew I made more than him; it had to be something else, maybe the size of his cock. My five-incher had always been an embarrassment to me, but what is, is, as you might say. Carol always said it was enough for her regardless; I wanted to believe her.

I had a thought; I pulled out my cell. It was a camera as well as a phone, and it had a two-power zoom. I was going to get some pictures if I could. I was no private-eye, but it seemed pretty straight forward to me. Get 'em coming out, get 'em wherever it was they finally ended up going, and then wait and confront her first and him later: the whore and the asshole in that order.

I'm not sure when it came to me, but at some point in all of this, I made the conscious decision to be cold and efficient rather than emotional and belligerent. I needed to gather evidence; I realized that I was going to need proof of her infidelity when I divorced her, if I did. In fact I had also decided that I was going to do my level best to ruin her asshole lover in the process, and that whether or not I did. I began planning at that very moment. The only sticky part in my conversation with myself was how I was going to deal with the issue of telling our twin teenage daughters, Jenny and Marie, why I was leaving their mother. I did not relish that little ditty.

I slipped back into the bar, doing my best to not be noticed. I got close enough to get a couple of pics, albeit in bad light, of the two of them playing around. I got out of there as soon as I had accomplished that goal. I knew I'd have to have the photos enhanced, since I didn't use the flash, but I knew that Ronnie could do that job for me as soon as I could get hold of him. Ronnie was an old friend, the geek of computer geeks. The techno stuff had not been invented that he couldn't manipulate like a thirteenth Olympian deity.

The parking lot was a bit lighter than the bar, and she had parked near the entrance right under a light standard; it was bright as day. I could get pics of them when they came out for sure.

It was maybe 45 minutes later that I saw Carol and Julius Caesar coming out of the bar. They stopped in the shadows and shared a lingering kiss. From behind a dumpster, twenty feet away, I was able to get a shot of it, and reviewing it immediately I was gratified to see that I had gotten a good clear picture: both of their faces were recognizable.

They held hands as they went to their respective cars; his was parked next to hers as it turned out-how fucking convenient, I thought.

I wasn't actually due home for six more days, so I got myself a motel room less than two miles from our house. I settled in and tried to figure out what my next move would be. I needed the answers to a bunch of questions. Why had she decided to fuck around on me? Was she planning to divorce me? She and the asshole obviously were not new at this, but how long had it actually been going on? Was she doing other men? I doubted this last. Their kiss told me that there was something more there than just sex; it looked like they were in love.

Okay, I said to myself, what to do? I could hire an investigator; I could afford it. Or, I could continue to do the sleuthing myself. I wasn't stupid, but I was inexperienced. A PI would have equipment and other stuff to stick it to the two cheaters. Also, there was the fact that Mr. Weathers was married with five children; and, if I had understood the things that my wife had told me about him, his wife was the one with all of the money in the family, and that fact was most interesting.

I knew that Carol would be at work the next day until 4:30PM. I had time to get my act together, but not too much time.

By morning I had decided on a PI. The yellow pages were my next stop. I chose one that claimed to have been in service in the area for the past seventeen years, nothing like experience. I made the appointment for that same morning.

I sat across from Mr. Carr a man in his middle fifties. There was actually a cigar in the ashtray in front of him, and his shabby office looked like something right out a Dashell Hammet novel. I thought, this guy only needed a trench coat to give Bogie a run for his money.

"And that's it then?" said Mr. Carr.

"Yeah, pretty much. I just got in yesterday and caught them last night. There is definitely something going on, and I need the proof.

"So whaddya think? Can you do it?" I said.

"Sure, no problem," he said. "With what you've given me, the pics and the rest, it'll be easy. It'd be easy for you too if you wanted to do it yourself."

"I'm just afraid I'd screw up, you know, maybe give the guy a size eight suppository and get my ass thrown in jail. I don't want to give either of 'em the satisfaction of seeing me behind bars."

"So that is indeed it then. We'll be on the job immediately. I will be planting the devices in the house today while she's at work," said Mr. Carr.

"Good," I said. We shook hands, and I went back to my motel room to wait and consider what exactly I was going to do with my wife. I had made up my mind not to do too much until I got the report from the PI. If he confirmed what I already knew to be fact, then I had just about decided come down on her with both feet. I wanted custody, the house, as much of our money as I could squeeze out of an overly forgiving court system, and I wanted revenge. She could have the asshole, and I just couldn't wait until life with him lost its new car smell and she realized what it was she'd lost. Well anyway, that's what I hoped would happen.

Mr. Carr had made it clear that I was to stay clear of the both of them for the duration, the duration being the entire week if necessary. But, that did not mean I could not call the traitor. I always called her every day I was out of town. It would have raised her suspicions if I did not call her.

The phone rang in her office. She answered it. "Hi… yeah it's me… it's fine here… uh-huh… me too but we'll be together this weekend unless something untoward happens… okay so whaddya going do to not be bored… sounds good Emily is a fun gal… oh okay… okay didn't mean to interrupt your meeting with JW… yeah me too… give JW my apologies for interrupting the meeting." I hung up.

I had actually caught them in a meeting of some kind. Well, it was a business establishment after all; it might even have been legit. Still, images of her bent over her desk getting banged from the rear crowded out all others in my mind. Her voice had betrayed nothing. Well, why should it have, I was in San Francisco a thousand miles away from Lincoln as far as she was concerned. I could just imagine the two of them smirking at my timing. The thought pissed me off.

Carol had noticed a guy watching them from across the barroom, but it was too dark to see who. Who cared anyway, she thought, she was having fun with her man. She was feeling a little bit guilty though. Marvin was away and she intended to be with her Julius even if it was technically cheating. But it was only a technical thing, she told herself. Marvin would suffer not at all for her doing it, at least not while they were still married; she'd treat him good right up to the end. She was planning on divorcing him as soon as the girls turned eighteen in a few months, and then he'd be free to find someone he could be happy with; she really did wish that for him. For herself, she was in love again just not with her husband. Not since high school had she felt about a boy or man like she did about Julius.

True Julius could not provide the kind of living that Marvin had provided for her, but she'd get enough from the divorce settlement to make up a lot of the difference. Still, she had to be careful; this was not a "no fault" state. If caught in adultery she could be lost financially; hence, she never did anything with Julius unless her husband was out of town. What he didn't know would hurt no one, she reasoned.

She did feel some regret, for what she planned to do to her husband; he had been a good man in all respects except for two things; one, he was lousy in bed. And, his skinny little weenie no longer satisfied her, not since she'd experienced Julius' very thick seven-and-a-half inches. And two, Marvin was boring!

"Let's get out of here, Carol. I need to get you naked," said Julius.

She smiled at him. "Happy to oblige," she said rising. He threw a bill on the table and they left. Once outside the door, he drew her to him and they kissed in the shadowy light of the bistro.

They strolled arm-in-arm the few yards to their cars. "My house," she said. "We've got that meeting in the morning, and I am going to have to limit you tonight. Unlike you I have to be in early for the set up."

"I know," he laughed, "I'm the boss, remember!" They laughed.

They drove off not noticing the man half hidden in the darkness near the dumpster.

Carol parked her car in the driveway and went in to the house. She turned on the porch light for her lover and left the door ajar.

Carol had given the girls permission to sleep over at Miranda's, and that had fit in well with her plans for the evening. She and Julius could do the bedroom mambo and she could then run him off early enough to get the rest she knew she was going to need.

"Jen, who is that parking in front of the neighbor's house?" said Marie.

"How do I know-wait-that's mom's boss, that Julius guy," said Jenny, as the big man got out of his car and casually, as though expected, entered the house.

"I don't like the look of that," said Marie. "What is that man doing in our house this late at night; it's after ten o'clock."

"We gonna go in?" said Jenny.

"I gotta get my clothes for tomorrow, don't I? I mean if we're all going to the water park in the morning," said Marie. "It's your fault anyway; you should've told me about the plans to go there before we left today for Miranda's."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah blame it all on me," said her twin.

"It's our house. Why shouldn't we go in to get my stuff," said Marie.

"Marie, I have a bad feeling about this," said Jenny, starting to tear up.

"Me too, Jen, but-mom wouldn't cheat on dad. Would she?"

"Gawd! I hope not," said Jenny.

As jenny and Marie sat in the car across the street, the porch light on their house went out. They waited some minutes before they began to worry: the man apparently wasn't coming out.

"We gotta get in there and get my clothes," said Marie. "And…"

"I'm afraid," said Jenny. "Wait, I know, I'll call mom on the cell and tell her we're coming to get your stuff."

Marie smiled, "Yes, that'll work, and we can pull up alongside her car just as she answers the phone; that way she won't be tempted to tell us that we should come over in the morning to get them instead."

"Hi Mom… me an Marie… yes we're having fun at Miranda's… no no… we'll be gone all day tomorrow… yes… uh-huh… the waterpark… we need some stuff… uh-huh… we'll be there in one minute… we'll just run in and run out… no-no-no… we're pulling in to the driveway right now." Jenny hung up.

Their mother met them at the door. "Hurry up girls and get what you need. I need to get to bed; I have a big meeting tomorrow.

"I hope you two are behaving yourselves over at Miranda's."

"We are, Mom. I'll get my suit and a couple of other things, and we'll be out of your hair," said Marie

Jenny waited by the door while Marie ran upstairs to her room. Marie noticed that the door to her mom and dad's room was closed. That, coupled with the fact that their mother was already in her robe was telling. Marie got her stuff and ran down the stairs.

"Bye Mom," said the twins in concert as they rushed out the door.

"Have fun tomorrow girls," said their mother.

The girls waved as they got in their car and backed out of the driveway and drove down the street toward their friend's house where they were sleeping over.

"Shit!" said Marie. "That asshole is in her and dad's room!"

Carol Caldwell turned and uttered an audible sigh of relief as her two daughters drove off. She leaned back against the door jamb and took a couple of deep breaths. She climbed the stairs to the bedroom where her lover was already naked and waiting.

"That didn't take long," he said, reaching to take her in his arms.

She held him off, gently, and looked into his eyes. "Jules, I have to ask you something, and I need an absolutely honest answer."

"Okay," he said, a concerned look creeping into features.

"You're about to do me, and that in my marital bed. My husband is ignorant of us so far, so we could back off and go back to our lives: you to Helen and the children and me to Marvin and the twins. Are you sure you want me as much as I want you? Are you sure you are willing to do to Helen what I will be doing to Marvin when I serve him with divorce papers in a few month's time? Be sure, Jules, I love you, but I don't want this to turn out to be just you getting a piece of my ass and then saying sayonara. I don't know what I'd do if you did that to me," she said.

"Carol, I love you more than my life. I am as desirous of you as you are of me. I have wanted you since the first time we met at the office. Later, our intimate lunches and dinners, when Marvin was out of town, were wonderful for me. Too little and not nearly often enough, but wonderful nonetheless. I swear to you, I love you, and you are far more to me than just a piece of ass as you call it. On that you may rely," he said.

He took her in his arms and she melded her body to his. The robe had slipped from her shoulders. He slid her negligee and then her skimpy panties down and off as well. She was now as naked as he.

He kissed her forehead, her ears, her neck and finally her lips. He was gentle and slow and considerate of her needs.

He led her to the bed and laid her down on it. He looked down at her, his cock jutting out in front of him. She licked her lips and motioned him to her. He knelt beside her face and she reached for his cock and pulled it to her mouth. She kissed it while holding his sac in one hand and the base of his shaft in the other. She pulled it into her mouth and then out for a moment and looked at it. She thought about how his massive maleness would soon be pile driving itself into her making her scream and spasm with pleasure. He owned her and she worshipped him for enslaving her.

She began to suck and lick him with abandon. After several minutes, she looked up at him and said, now. She released him and got herself up on all fours presenting her ass for his assault. He got behind her and licked her secret places, both of them.

She felt him press his cockhead against her labia and push into her. He moved slowly, inch by precious inch. She felt him press his finger against her anus and push it inside of her as he fucked her. He varied his tempo. He wanted the feeling to last. She played with her clit as he continued to screw her. It was some while before he felt her stiffen. He began to speed up [,] ramming her ferociously a dozen times before he exploded inside of her. She felt the heat of his semen wash her insides as she was riddled with orgasmic thunder. Gawd! how she loved the way he fucked her. He shivered too as he began to fade.

They collapsed together in a pile of flesh and sweat and carnal juices. The smell of sex and mating was all around them.

"He can't do that for you," said the man.

"No, he can't, he's too dinky," she said. "If he had what you have, you might not be here."

He smiled. His conquest was complete. He knew without a doubt that she was his. They cuddled and slept the sleep of the sexually satisfied.

It was two days later that Mr. Carr called the cell number he'd been given. He had summoned the cuckolded spouse to his office. Marvin sat across from him now having heard the basics. The PI had gotten what he needed sooner than anticipated.

"Yes, there is an affair and they apparently are in love. I'm sorry Mr. Caldwell, but it's all there in the package."

"Thank you. It's disturbing to finally know, but I knew in my heart after that night at the bistro that this would be the result. I know what to do now. Thank you again," I said.

Out in his car I cried. I let the tears flow without any attempt to restrain them. I would cry now, for a little while, and then I would get down to business.

I hadn't seen or heard the tapes yet; I wasn't sure I wanted to. I knew what they contained; the content was in the written report. The report was bad enough, but in the cold descriptive sentences that Mr. Carr had given me there was no tone of voice, no facial expression, no intensity. The written report had spared him all of that. The tapes would be far more cruel and destructive of his mind and soul. Betrayal was always bad-the worst.

I drove immediately to my bank. I took half of all of the assets depositing the proceeds in an untraceable offshore account I'd already opened; I was taking no chances. I figured I might give her the house; I couldn't bring himself to live in it anyway knowing how it had been desecrated. But the cash, she'd only end up getting half of what I'd left in the account. So, of the original three hundred thousand dollars, three-quarters would be mine. I cancelled our common credit cards. I retained only my company credit card; it would have to suffice for the present.

my meeting with the lawyer that afternoon would be brief. I had already set the wheels in motion. I would give Sam, my good friend and long time associate, the go ahead to file the divorce papers and to have her served.

Finally, I had to face the fact that I had to meet with my girls and let them decide what they wanted to do. This wasn't about them, but it would affect them greatly. If I held any bitterness toward my wife at all it would be as a result of what her selfishness was going to do to my babies. I was angry at her for that, very angry.

But, my greatest ire was focused on the man that had seduced my wife and cuckolded me. I actually hoped the asshole didn't show, because if he did, I could not guarantee that I would let him be.

At 10:00AM a man with a briefcase walked into the offices of Sierra Insurance Ltd. and enquired after Mrs. Caldwell. He was ushered into her office. There was a man with her leaning over her desk scanning some documents.

"Mrs. Caldwell?" said the visitor. Then, looking over at the big man beside the desk, he smiled. "And, I believe you are Mr. Weathers if I am not mistaken," said the man.

"Yes, I am."

"Good, it saves me a trip." He opened his briefcase and pulled out two manila envelopes. He glanced at the names on each and handed each of the parties theirs respectively.

"You are both served. You Mrs. Caldwell for divorce, and you sir for alienation of affection. Mr. Caldwell asks that neither of you attempt to contact him. He has moved out of your house, Mrs. Caldwell," he said. He handed each a card: Sam Kellerman, atty. "Any contact should be through Mr. Kellerman's office." The man then turned and left.

Carol Caldwell was stunned. She almost fell into her chair. She paled. An involuntary tear dropped onto her breast. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She had planned to make it as painless as possible for her husband, but he had gone and usurped her good intentions. Everything was a mess now. The girls! She had to get to the girls! Nothing else mattered for the moment. She stood and moved to go. She looked at her lover but said nothing. They'd talk later.

Julius just stood there, also shocked and irresolute. Alienation of affection? What had he done but fallen in love? That it was with another man's wife didn't strike him as meaningful. Helen! My gawd, he thought, she'd divorce him immediately. The children! It was going to be messy.

The two girls and their dad sat in the booth at Denny's. "Girls, I hate to have to tell you this, but I am leaving your mother. We have problems," I said, "big problems."

Marie started to cry. "You know don't you, Dad?"

"Huh?" I said.

"You know about mom and her boss," said Jenny elaborating.

"You girls know too?" I said.

"We've seen the asshole at our house at night," said Marie. "Yes, we know."

"We want to stay with you Dad. I don't want to be around that big fat asshole. If I see him trying to kiss mom, I think I'd try to kill him," said Jenny.

"Wow," was all I could think to say.

"You can stay with me, girls, of course. But, I do not want you to cut yourselves off from your mother. I don't want to see her for a number of reasons, but you two need to. Okay?"

The twins nodded.

"Here is my new address and you have my cell. Get your stuff and come tonight if you wish. It's a three bedroom condo that I've leased. You'll each have your own room; they're pretty nice too," I said.

"Girls, I want you to know, that whatever you decide is fine with me. I want you with me, but I would never force you. If you change your mind and then even if you change it again and again and again; I will understand and accommodate your wishes as best I can. I love you both with my whole heart and soul. None of this is your doing, but it is going to affect you, and for that I am truly sorry."

The two young women came around to him and hugged and kissed him. Tears were common all around.

It was the next day at my work that the opening salvos in the divorce wars were fired. Julius Weathers came storming into the yards of Driscoll Logistics and Engineering. He saw his quarry with two women, apparently clerical workers, near an open receiving bay.

"Hey, Caldwell, you asshole," said Julius.

I saw the big man run walking toward me. I set myself to avoid his rush. I'd been in too many set-tos not to realize what was coming.

"She was your wife, and you shit on her you prick," he said, as he lunged for me.

I side-stepped him easily and he crashed into the wall swearing like a sailor. "I'm going to tear you up. Your fancy ass karate isn't going to do it for you shrimp," he snarled.

Shrimp! Now I was going to have some fun. He lunged again and I side-stepped him again. He fell to one knee. Hmm, I thought, maybe I hadn't lost as much foot speed as I thought.

I decided to stop letting him slide. He got up and stood; he was a little more wary. I just stood there, arms loose and ready at my side. He came at me more deliberately. I bobbed under his wild haymaker. I fired two vicious cuts into his rib cage. I could hear his lungs deflate. He tried vainly to catch his breath. I walked slowly up to the gasping assailant and fired no less than a dozen short, flashing hooks into the side of his face and head.

His eyes glazed over and he sort of melted to the ground. He was out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. Carol had been with him. But she didn't come to him; she ran. Well, why wouldn't she; she had to be afraid.

Jenny and Marie were retrieving their things when their mother came through the door.

"Thank gawd you girls are here!" said Carol. Then she stopped. Her face suddenly became a mask of fear. She looked at the suitcases and full trash bags behind the couch.

"Girls?"

"We'll be staying with dad, Mom," said Jenny.

Their mother fainted. After they had gotten her conscious, up, and onto the couch the girls stood in front of their mom's seated form.

"Mom, we don't like your boss. Never did," said Marie. "But, we hate him now, and we are very disappointed in you."

"Marie…"

"Mom," said Jenny, taking her shot, "Marie and I don't want the family to break up. We know it's not up to us. But, if you divorce dad and marry that shithead, count us the hell outta your life."

Carol was sobbing big time now and was totally incapable of coherent speech. The girls headed toward the door. Jenny stopped and turned.

"Mom, you're an asshole. Get a grip and figure it out before it's too late." Then they were gone.

"I bought the condo, girls. So now we have a real home," I said.

After the initial blow up, things had calmed down, as they always inevitably must, and I settled into my new routine as a single parent.

I made a point of seeing to it that the girls spoke to their mother face to face once a month. The divorce had been final in just under seven months, and I heard from the girls that their mother had married the asshole in Vegas within a week after the final decree. It hurt me to hear that, but I had expected it; the woman was in love or so I'd heard her say on the tapes.

The girls had softened their threat to not have anything to do with their mother again if she married shithead, but they adamantly refused to have anything to do with him; this gratified me. Though in point of fact it caused their mother no end of disappointment.

Mr. Julius Weathers had, of course, been kicked to the curb by his wife. She had raped him financially, and between him and his new wife they had to struggle to make ends meet. He also knew the horrible feeling of essentially losing all but minimal contact with his own children.

It is said that one of the happiest days in a father's life is when he is able to give his daughter's hand to a just and honorable man in marriage. The twins were to be given in marriage-both of them in the same ceremony-to two brothers, not twins, the following day.

It had been three years since Carol's and my divorce, and I had not seen or spoken to my ex in all of that time. I would see her tomorrow. The girls had said that she could even bring Julius if she wanted, to escort her, but that was all; he would have no part in the wedding. Time does dull the pain if not completely erase it.

I saw her for the first time standing by the artificial arbor that had been set up for the special dinner Jenny and Marie had planned for the evening. Their fiancés, Bob and Howard Roberts, were speaking to her. Carol was smiling.

I looked around but did not see Julius. I had had to promise the girls that I wouldn't pound the guy again like I did the last time. I knew that they had said what they said tongue in cheek, but the message was nonetheless a serious one. I had had to promise not to offend.

The prospective grooms looked his way. I nodded. I was waiting for my friend Ronnie to show up. He was going to be the official photographer.

I was surprised to see the pair each take an arm of his ex-wife and head my way. I looked around for a graceful exit. There was none.

"Sir," began Howard, "our brides have given us a mission. They told us in no uncertain terms that we had to get you two to talk to each other."

"That's right, sir," said Bob. "They said to remind you that this was their day, uh er, evening, and they want it to be special for the ones that are responsible for bringing them into this world." With that, the two men withdrew.

I wasn't sure, but I thought that I heard them laugh as they retreated to safer territory.

We stared at each other. I was the first to speak. "How are you, Carol."

"Okay, Marv. And you?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Where's Julius?" I asked, looking around.

"He's not here," she said.

"Oh."

"I didn't have anything to do with this, Marv. The boys just came up and got me. I don't know why. I mean I don't know why the girls are doing this. They know you…"

"I don't hate you, Carol. I was hurt by what you did to me, but I never hated you. Oh, and you can tell your man he has nothing to fear from me anymore. I got it out of my system that one time, and it's in the past as far as I'm concerned."

"You know," she said, "I never had a clue just how tough you were until that day. I mean I knew you had been a boxer and stuff, but well, I just had had no idea."

"Thanks, I think," I said.

It was her turn to smile.

"Today is s special day for our girls," I said. "I think it would be nice if we sat together at the table. It would make them feel good, I think."

"Marvin, I think that that is a wonderful idea.

"Marvin, I mean since we'll be sitting together, I mean…"

"Yes, I think we should talk some," he said. "I guess we should've had our conversation a long time ago. But, time got away from me, and well…"

She nodded her understanding.

"That said, Carol, I think it should not be tonight. I mean not about the big stuff. This is kind of an unusual gathering. I mean aren't grooms supposed to stay away from their future wives the night before their weddings. I think we need to focus on the girls tonight. I'll call you in a few days and we'll have lunch or dinner or something," he said.

"You're right of course," she said.

At the dinner, I noticed the twins watching me. Or, was it the both of us, Carol and me. I saw them whisper to each other every few minutes while keeping an eye on our table which was no more than twenty feet away from their own.

The next morning the brides looked wonderful and the grooms looked pretty good too. The wedding went off smoothly. It should have, it had cost a small fortune on the part of their father, I thought to myself.

On the day of the wedding Julius still had not showed, and Carol was once again paired with me. I noticed that she seemed to walk with a slight limp, and she was wearing a long sleeved blouse in spite of the hot weather. I began to feel that something was amiss.

The wedding and the reception had turned out to be wonderful in some ways, but bittersweet in others. I would miss the girls noise and problems and messy room and all of it.

After the girls had slipped out of the reception and headed off on their honeymoons, Carol and I were left standing next to the bandstand looking at each other. We were each aware of a new era beginning in our lives. It was an awkward moment.

I turned to her. "Carol?" She had a pained look to her.

She looked up at me. "Yes?"

"Something wrong?"

I could see her fighting back tears, at least I thought that's what I saw.

"We fought. He wouldn't come. It was a bad fight," she said.

My mood darkened. "He hit you didn't he?" I said, trying to control myself, but not doing a very good job of it.

She just looked away.

"I'll kill the motherfucker," I said, between gritted teeth.

Her head snapped around and she said, "No!"

I saw she was scared to death. "Okay, okay, I'm cool," I said. I made a mental note to not actually kill the bastard.

"Marv, we split up last night. That's why he-well, he lost it. We were never able to get around the loss of our families. His ex makes it difficult for him to see his own children and mine, ours, hate him. He's not in a good place emotionally," she said.

"So you get to help him out by being his punching bag," I said, not quite sneering.

"Marvin Caldwell, you have to promise me you won't do anything foolish. This is my fault, all my fault. If I hadn't cheated three years ago, none of this would be happening. Marvin! Promise me!" she demanded.

"I won't kill him," I said, "But, he is going to get an ear full from me if he's still in town when I go looking for him. And, Carol, don't ask me for more than that."

She nodded.

I paced back and forth outside of the bar that I knew he was at. Some early arrivals at the establishment eyed me. I was making up my mind if I should go in and talk to him or wait him out.

I had enquired of a parking attendant at his place of work where he might go. The young man hadn't hesitated. "The Green Field bar," said the young man. "You can see it from here. It's just over there. He goes there a lot. They got great hamburgers too."

I thanked him and pressed a fin into his palm.

The day was hot. I finally decided to go inside. The place was cool and dim, but not dark; I could see easily. And what I saw was him talking to one of the serving girls. I approached. The girl saw me. I guess the look on my face made her think of something else to do; she broke off her conversation with Julius and sashayed away from the bar.

Julius was nonplused. He turned to see what had interrupted his little get together with the girl. "What a way to ruin a perfectly fine day," said Julius, seeing me behind him.

"I'm here to have a few words with you, asshole," I said.

"Then you'll be talking to yourself because I ain't listenin'," he said.

"That would be your choice, but you better find a way to hear me or you are going down," I said.

"Yeah right."

"If you come near Carol again, I'm gonna be there, and you won't like it. If you call her on the phone, I'm gonna find you. If you write her a note, I will hunt you down and make you eat it. She made me promise not to tear your cowardly ass up, but I won't be hearing her if there's a next time. Good day Mr. Weathers." I stalked out.

I spent the next few days packing some things for a little vacation that I had planned. I would be spending some time alone. I couldn't get Carol out of my mind, and had almost called her; I had to think. I had promised her that we would talk, but for some reason, I just couldn't pick up the phone and dial her number. The betrayal of three years earlier still rankled, and yet having seen her, what she had become; I had come to realize that I wanted her back. All of my procrastination notwithstanding, fate was about to take matters out of my hands. The phone rang. I picked it up. It was Carol.

We talked for some minutes. She was on her way up to see me. I could sense the hands of my daughters in all of this. I answered the rapping on my condo door. She stood there, pretty and subdued.

"Come in," I said, finding my voice.

"Thank you Marvin." I indicated that she should have a seat. She sat herself gingerly on the couch. "I hear you talked to Julius."

"I didn't touch him," I said.

"I know. The bartender told me," she said. "He's a dear friend."

I nodded.

"Marvin, three years ago I thought I was in love with another man, Julius. I now know it was just a serious case of stupidity. A genius I clearly am not."

"You're saying it was stupidity, not his enormous cock?" I said rubbing it in. "I heard what you said about me on the tapes."

She winced. "You're a proud man, Marvin. I know my words hurt you. I beg your forgiveness for that; I really do. He has got a big cock for sure; he is bigger than you, Marvin, I won't lie to you; you'd know I was lying anyway. I'm done with lies. But his cock by itself would never have been enough to lure me away from you or the girls. It was much more than that, and at the same time much less, I suppose. The truth is I was bored, and the thrill of the chase overcame my inhibitions, and I blundered."

"You said you loved him," I said. "That was on the tapes too."

"Like I said, I thought I did, but I didn't; I know that now, as self-serving as it sounds."

"It does sound self-serving, Carol.

"Carol, for me it was not just the cheating, as bad as that was. It was not even the fact that you ripped my heart out when you said on the tape that you loved the asshole. Or the way you made me feel inadequate talking about my cock. It was the fact that I had trusted you and you betrayed that trust. I need to be able to trust the woman I sleep beside each night. I need her to be on my side, not some other guy's."

"I know, and I guess I will never be able to convince you that I am trustworthy now. I am trustworthy though. I know I am, but how to convince you? I don't know how," she said.

"I met with you tonight," I said, "because I wanted to see what you'd say. I know our girls want us to get back together. Hell, at odd times, I want us to get back together. But, how can I be sure that you won't get bored again, or look around for another big cock to satisfy you," I said.

She was crying, but I could see she had something else on her mind. "I'm looking for happiness now, Marvin, not just some high schoolish thrill. I need a man to sleep beside and to trust me and be trusted by me too. If you give me a chance, I will prove myself worthy, I promise. I need a chance. Once burned twice warned, Marvin. I won't make a mistake like that again no matter what."

I walked toward the wall and banged my head against it. It startled her. "Marvin!"

"Call the girls to come up, Carol."

"Huh?"

"I know they're with you tonight. They're your back up aren't they?"

"How did you know?"

"I have my sources, and no, it's not the girls," I said. I didn't say that I had promised Bob, Jenny's husband, that I would not double-cross him and let the girls know he'd told me what they were planning to do to get me and their mother back together.

The two newlyweds must have been listening at the door. They arrived in less than eleven seconds.

Julius married the bargirl I saw him talking to that day. We see them on a rare occasion. Carol still works for the agency, and so does he but in a different town. He stays clear of us, but big company affairs include some people we are not keen about.

Carol and I are living together, but not remarried. I am not sure we ever will be. I am not a big fan of divorce, and Carol knows that just one more mistake, even so much as a passionate kiss given to another man, will end us forever.

Whatever the future holds remains a mystery, but at the moment things are pretty cool. Jenny has let us know that we will be grandparents in seven months. That is something that Carol and I are really getting in to.

-----------------------------

   Series:Caveman
   Author:Matt Moreau
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.forum.allporncomix.com/threads/matt-moreau-cuckold-cheating-hotwife.1934/
Published:2024-03-05
Judy had met Mac but a year earlier. She had just graduated from high school; he was a rich and self-made man, who had volunteered to coach the girls' volleyball team; a team she had starred on as a student. He was pushy, but not unnecessarily so. She was sure, in her youthful naiveté, that she could make him bend a little; she was wrong. Mac Wilson was the original male chauvinist pig. Males were to dominate; females were to obey, and that

was the only important item that males and females needed to consider to ensure a smooth running relationship married or unmarried; they were now the former-married as hell.

She had been told to be ready when he got home; she had maybe a half an hour left to complete the task. The last time she had not been ready her behind had seemed to glow for days. She knew she was going to be punished this night, but she did "not " want it to be special punishment.

She stood in front of the full length mirror and preened herself. Her long brunette tresses reached to the middle of her back. Her equally black panties and bra, collectively not weighing more than a few ounces, had no fringes and revealed a crease in the fore part of her loins and a pair of tiny buttons in the center of her chest. Her lips were tinted bright red; only her eyes now remained to be made up, that and her perfume. The shadow and the mascara would complete the picture. She would of course use "his" favorite perfume. She smiled when she thought of the effect her perfume invariably had upon him: he had an inordinately developed sense of smell.

She heard the garage door opening. Now she shivered a little as she knew her ordeal would soon begin. She welcomed his caveman dominance. A year before she would have had him arrested for even suggesting what she now submitted to willingly, even enthusiastically. He was coming up the stairs. She got down on her knees, placed her hands at her sides and gazed demurely down at the floor.

******

"You're ready. Good," he said almost languidly. "And you smell good." His words made her happy.

Mac Wilson was medium height, had brownish-blond hair, was rugged looking, and carried himself like the 28 year old sometime amateur athlete that he was. He wore khaki pants and a like colored, no-collar, three-button shirt. He sported cowboy boots of a very inexpensive variety. Though a millionaire, Mac hated ostentation; decoration, he was fond of saying, was for Christmas trees.

"Thank you, sir."

"You know why I told you to be ready tonight don't you?" he said, ignoring her politeness.

"I think so, sir."

"Then what is that reason, Judy? Tell me the reason. I really want to know."

"You just feel like doing me, that's all," she said.

"That is absolutely correct. I do feel like doing you. You want me to do you don't you?"

"Yes, sir. I very much want you to pleasure yourself on me." Judy was blushing. She had said similar things before, but each time it thrilled her. The notion that she had a man who wanted to have her, use her, even abuse her because she was, as he said, incredibly sexy to look at. Such words thrilled her like she had never been thrilled by any boy. She was confident that he would not permanently harm her, but she knew she was going to be mighty uncomfortable by the time he finally fucked her, probably after a couple of hours of teasing and torment.

"Good," he said. He walked over to a small standing-closet nestled in the far corner of the room. It was a room with few furnishings: a low straight-backed chair; two paintings of rural scenes on the walls; and a heavy, rectangular, oaken table sans any chairs of its own. From the closet he retrieved a switch, a thin branch from a tree in the yard. Slender,

whippy, and green it would sting like fire. He also brought out a few strands of rope. He laid the things on the table. He walked over to the single chair and placed it in front of her; she was still on her knees. He moved between the chair and the girl. 'Undo my pants."

Judy reached for the belt buckle and loosened it. In turn, she unbuttoned his pants and drew them down to his knees. She waited for his next command.

"My underpants," he said, "pull them down." She did so. "You must now suck my penis, and lick it all around; my scrotum too."

She reached slowly forward taking the shaft of his cock lightly in her left hand. She stroked it equally lightly with her right the way he had taught her. The man-thing jerked spasmodically in her fingers thrilling her; soon he would impale her on it, and she would be the one jerking spasmodically. She leaned forward and licked the length of his thing sensually. She dipped her head slightly and sucked his ball sack into her mouth sucking on the twin marbles gingerly. Soon she was licking and sucking his cock roughly; the sensation almost drove him out of his mind, but he weathered it.

Mac sat down now, and she continued her ministrations even licking the insides of his thighs. She was his slave, and she loved it. Forgotten was the inevitability of the spanking she was yet to experience. She could only focus on one thing at a time and sucking her man's cock was the one thing.

"Take off my boots." She obeyed, struggling with the difficult to remove cowboy wear. She was more or less familiar with the modus operandi by now though, and got them off far more easily than was the case with her earliest attempts. Now take off your panties but leave your bra on."

Judy stood, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her thong panties, and pushed them down and off of herself; she was totally naked except for her wispy bra.

Mac, also naked from the waist down, stood and pushed her gently away; she knew it signaled the second stage of the evening. She once more knelt with her legs slightly separated, hands at her side, and with her eyes glued on the carpet.

Walking behind her he grabbed her by her hair, raised her to her feet, and guided her awkwardly to the width end of the table. He spun her around to face him. "I love you and I am going to punish you now," he said sincerely almost sweetly.

She gulped and softly muttered words of love back to him.

"I want to spank you, but only if you are ready for it. Do you wish me to?"

"Yes sir. I do. Please do me, and please give it to me good; make me dance."

He smiled at her earnestness. "I'm going to bind your hands and feet. It won't frighten you I hope."

"It's okay. It will help keep me from bucking too wildly and hurting myself."

"Yes, exactly." He kissed her, slowly insinuating his tongue into her mouth as she opened it to receive him. He pushed her back, turned her, and drew her hands behind her back; involuntarily she resisted, but he was far too strong for her. He bound them tightly, but not painfully. He gently shoved her forward. He bent her over the table. Kneeling down behind her, he spread her legs wide and lashed her ankles, also tightly, to the table legs.

He walked around to the long side of the table. Picking up a dog collar that had been on the table all along, he fastened it around her neck. He then attached a leash to it and secured it to the far end where a pair of steel hooks had been placed on the unobserved underside of the table's edge, effectively drawing her forward and stretching the upper half of her body at length along the flat surface. She could wiggle a little but only a little. As a final operation, Mac inserted a butt plug into the anus of the girl and stood back to admire and observe her helplessness. "It's time my love." She lay still and awaited her punishment.

The man lifted the switch and raised it high. It crashed down on the girl's exposed flesh cruelly. She jerked fiercely trying to escape the sting of the rapier-like instrument. She held her breath as she awaited the next count. It stung terribly when it came; she squealed. She tried to bury her Venus mound in the table's surface in a vain hope to lessen the sting. He rained torment upon her now; her cries mixed with her sobbing brought her no succor.

Soon she was numb from the terrible flames that consumed her buttocks and upper thighs. Her buttocks sustained seemingly innumerable spanks before her caveman rested. The third stage of the evening was about to take place, but he would let her wait for a few moments before he took her. She was already spread and vulnerable to his invading cock, all seven very thick inches of it. She waited sobbing quietly from the effects of the spanking.

Mac unsnapped her bra and removed his own shirt; they were the last remaining vestiges of clothing that either still wore.

Mac noticed a shadow at the edge of the widow pane directly in front of him just as he moved to mount the helpless female from behind. Then he saw her full on. It was Judy's younger sister Karen. Mac and the just turned eighteen year-old year old on the other side of the glass stared at each other. Judy was unaware. Mac began fucking his girl while her sister watched. He took his time. He wasn't sure, but he suspected that Karen was playing with herself while her sister was being screwed.

How much had Karen witnessed? At the moment it didn't seem to matter much; Judy was his wife and what they were doing was consensual. But none of that concerned Mac at that moment. His cock had hardened into a rod of steel knowing that the younger girl outside was watching him fuck another.

He began to speed up as the pressure in his scrotum mounted. Soon he was driving wildly into the sopping pussy of the whimpering love of his life, and she was pushing back to engage his pile driving tool as much as her bound extremities would allow. He exploded washing the insides of her belly with loads of cum. He bent forward and lay gasping across her prone back.

******

After Mac had finished and released Judy, they had showered together and lay on the huge king sized bed in their room utterly spent. Mac used a mild cold-cream to ease the sting in the girl's buns. She languidly played with his cock as she faded and fell blissfully to sleep. Mac smiled to himself; Karen was in the house-somewhere-the thought intrigued him, but it mattered not now; he was too tired. He too drifted off; tomorrow would bring an interesting situation…

******

Mac was up at first light. He slipped down to the kitchen on a mission to rejuvenate his sleepy form with a cup of reheated coffee. Seated at the kitchen table was Karen.

Mac and Judy had invited her sister to come and stay with them during the school break. Judy missed her sister. Their parents, liberal to the nth degree, saw in Mac a good role model for a husband; Karen was eighteen and would be in the market for one of her own sooner rather than later. Besides Mac was wealthy, gentlemanly, and considerate; the best of all possible combinations. But Karen, who was supposed to be elsewhere that evening had discovered them-interesting…

The smug look on Karen's face assured the man that he had not dreamed the episode of the previous evening. She had watched her sister get it and get it good. Additionally, he was certain, Karen had gotten off on it.

"How much did you see?" he asked not pretending anything-as if he could have anyway.

"Do you whip her like that often?"

So, she had seen it all, or nearly all. "Fairly often."

"Do you enjoy it that much?"

"Yes, and so does she."

"Really?" said Karen.

"Yes, really," he said.

"You fucked her good and proper."

"You shouldn't be talking like that about your sister."

"I wasn't born yesterday, Mac. I think it's kind of romantic: off beat, but romantic."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said.

"Ever tried any of it?"

"Well, not the way you mean," she said smiling for the first time.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I spank my boyfriend. And, just for the record, he adores it. Sometimes I even let him fuck me, but not always. Does that answer your question?"

"Uh-yes-I guess," he said genuinely at a loss for words for one of the few times in his life.

Mac took a good look at the fresh looking, slightly freckled, dishwater-blonde seated across from him. She was the prototypical teen: sassy, full of herself, afraid of little, and nearly as stunning as her sister. His cock was sending him messages.

"Good. I want to play too," she said.

"What do you mean, 'play too.'"

"I mean I want to make it a threesome."

"You what!"

"Don't act so shocked. And besides, you'd enjoy the heck out of it."

"But-"

"Yes, I know it's my sister. Anyway, I happen to think she'd get a kick out of seeing your naked ass spread out on that table getting the wrong end of that switch."

"Me!"

"Admit it. You'd love having me do you. For my part, I can hardly wait."

She talked and he stuttered for the next half hour. Only Judy-disheveled and smelling of serious sex-joining them in the kitchen cut short the conversation. Mac knew he was going to submit to the younger teen. It was only a matter of getting Judy to go along with it.

******

Caveman: Part Two

By Matt Moreau

Rich or not, Mac had to go to work. This was one day he would have preferred not to, but Karen had shooed him out; she was going to pave the way with her sister. He was dubious, even marginally worried, but something in Karen's demeanor engendered confidence. It was a confidence, he knew, that might very well manifest itself in the domination of-him!

******

"Well, little sister, what shall we do today since the man of the house is off to the rat race." She stirred her coffee as they sat in the kitchen, as she supposed, to plan their day together.

"Hehehehe!" Karen tittered unreservedly at the unsuspecting nineteen year-old.

"What? what?" queried Judy with the knitted brow of one who was completely out of the loop.

"I Know what you did," sing-songed Karen while doing her level best not to break out in a rash of uncontrolled guffaws.

"Huh?"

"Okay," said Karen suddenly conspiratorial. "I saw Mac fuck you yesterday. You know you really should put up some curtains if you two are going to play like that in there."

"Wha-"

"Yes, I saw you strapped to the table. I saw him punish you. Just for the record, did you deserve it?" No matter, it was really cool. I especially like the way your toes were dancing to the beat of the switch. You're really quite attractive being the disciplinee."

"Oh my!"

"Get a grip, Judy, it's no big deal. You're probably feeling embarrassed right now, but you really were something to see, and I think it's great."

"You do?" said Judy in a quavering voice.

"Yes, of course. It's just fun. Just sex. I never thought of you as a virgin. Just when did you lose your virginity anyway; I've really been curious about that; you're so closed mouthed."

"It's none of your-"

"Yes, yes, I know. It's none of my business. Sheesh! you'd think it was a trade secret or classified or something. Look, I've seen you getting your butt beat with a switch and then getting your pussy pounded by what looked like a pretty sizable piece of man-meat, and in that order."

Judy finally got control of her voice. "What in the hell were you doing spying on me. And, what do you mean coming in here and talking to me like this. You're my 'little' sister; I would have hoped that you would have been nice enough to allow me-us-some privacy!" Judy had arrived at the confluence of the three rivers: confusion, concern, and righteous indignation. She was groping to regain some semblance of control and at the same time to take stock of her situation vis a' vis her sister.

"Yes, you are my older sister. I love you. I think you love me as well. I was surprised to see you getting it last night, but I am not shocked; I'm merely excited about it."

"But-"

"Look, I want to join you." There, she'd said it. Judy's mouth gaped open. No sound came out.

"Will you listen to what I have to say?" asked Karen.

Judy finally managed a curt, "Go on."

"I had no idea you were into the scene, you know, B&D.; I'm into it too, but I'm a top; Lars Hatfield is my boyfriend, my submissive boyfriend. And before you ask, yes, he has fucked me. I wish he was here now. I'm so horny I could fuck the proverbial gear shift."

"Karen!"

"Yes?"

Judy was all of a sudden again without words to utter.

"Judy, I'm not into your husband, I would just like to do a threesome. You know, have fun. Maybe even do it more than once, like occasionally, if you know what I mean."

"How long have you been fucking boys, Karen?" Judy asked.

"Since I was fourteen. Well, that was my first. No, not Lars. It was Mr. Helden from next door. He saw me out on the patio without my top and came over into our yard and propositioned me. He happened to get me in a weak moment. He whipped out his thingy and let me examine it. It sure looked big to me, but not as big as Mac's. Then he pulled off my panties, pushed my legs back up around my ears and fucked the livin' daylights out of me; I liked it, but he never dared to try it again and I let him get away with it. Like I said, I liked it."

"Sweet gawd almighty!" Judy was beside herself. She was also chagrined to realize that her pussy was soaking wet. "You could have gotten preggers."

"I suppose. Look, whaddya say. Let's do a threesome. Tell you what, I'll spank Mac. Don't you think it would be neat to watch 'him' doing the dancing for once? I'm pretty good at that stuff."

"He'd never-"

"Oh, I know how to handle the all powerful male ego. He'll take his medicine from me; trust me."

"I don't know Karen. I don't even know how I'd broach the question to him."

"Then you're interested?" Karen said almost gleefully.

"Maybe. I mean, it would be interesting, but apart from spanking him, what else might you have in mind?"

Karen knew she had won. There was going to be a threesome, and it would happen that very night. She had to plan though. The orchestration had to be delicately done. Karen did not feel confident letting Judy know that Mac and she had already discussed and agreed to the issue. Anyway, it would be more erotic if Judy thought everything was spontaneous. "Well, after he gets his comeuppance, I'd suck him and you'd fuck him, or vice versa,

whatever you'd like.

Judy and Karen discussed, argued, fretted and eventually came up with a modus operandi for the evening's festivities. Mac would be more than a little surprised at the completeness of the plan the two females would unleash on him thatpm

******

The two girls were dressed to kill, not too sexy, but very enticing. Judy wore a yellow one piece dress with a flared skirt. Her hair was the wet look, and her makeup up sultry. Her heels were a conservative two inches. Karen wore a black skirt with a red mid-drift exposing blouse. Her hair was in a very teenage ponytail, and her makeup up made her seem twelve years old instead of her actual eighteen. Karen's heels, however, were the five inch spikes of a girl in charge.

"He's pulling into the garage; I can hear him," said Judy.

"Okay, you massage his ego a little while I wait for the right moment. When I think it's time, I'll come in and take over. Remember, let me run the show; I'm experienced at this end of things. Oh, by the way, do you want to do the sucking or the screwing?" Karen batted her lashes at her sister playfully as she phrased the question.

"Hmm, I think I'll suck him this time; I do like the taste of his cock. Besides, I'm curious how you'll look being rammed by his piston."

"No problem. I just hope he likes his pussy tight and wet."

"I'm sure he will," said Judy.

Karen swept from the room to let husband and wife get themselves in the right frame of mind.

******

"Hi honey," said Mac, "tough day. I missed you. Where's your sister?"

"Oh, she'll be down in a little while. Said she has a surprise for us."

"Oh?"

"Yes, don't know what exactly, but I'm sure you'll appreciate it."

"I'm sure," he said nonchalantly. Mac went over to his wife and kissed her passionately; she responded, as she always did, with wetter panties and hardening nipples. His response to her was an obvious tenting of his pants, a reaction that always thrilled her; what power women had, she thought to herself; Karen would have no trouble getting this horny male to submit to her; it was going to be interesting.

Without so much as sitting down, or having a drink, or making any undue small talk; Judy began to undo Mac's pants. She wanted his cock fast. She wanted to suck it and lick it and make love to it orally and then it would be Karen's turn to orchestrate the second phase of the evening.

Sliding his dockers down to his ankles she knelt before him and gently rolled the loose foreskin of his penis in her fingers. She reached behind him, grabbing his buttocks with her left hand pulling him closer to her. As she took his cock between her ruby lips, she slid a finger of her left hand part way up and into his anus. He jerked in pleasure. He was totally captivated by his wife's actions.

Judy felt him about to cum and pulled away; he had to be horny for phase two or he would never agree to it.

"Gawd, you're good," he said with a sincerity born of lust.

"Thank you sir," she said.

Mac looked at her squarely. Something in her tone of voice was not usual.

"Hi everyone," said Karen entering quietly from the hallway.

Mac almost fainted. Even though she and he had discussed the possibility of a threesome, he had had no correspondence with her since that cup of coffee in the earlyam, and he was not at all sure how to react. He was, after all, standing in front of a teenage girl with his pants down around his ankles and the clear evidence of generous globules of spit on his penis to testify to the recent goings on.

Karen had her hands behind her back looking as dainty and petite as she possibly could. "Can I play?" she asked coyly.

"Why Karen, of course you can. It's okay with you isn't it Mac?" said Judy; it was not a question.

"Uh-sure. I guess."

"Good," said Karen. "I have a little surprise for you Mac." Karen brought her hands from behind her back. Dangling from her right hand and suspended almost at arm's length in front of her was a pair of shiny handcuffs. Karen was smiling at Mac's obvious discomfort.

"You don't mind do you Mac," asked Judy. "I mean I'm always the one who gets it, and I don't mind getting it, but I think that turn around once in a while makes sense don't you think, Mac?"

"I think so. I mean if that would make you happy."

"Good," said Judy.

"Come here," said Karen crooking her finger.

Mac moved on shaky legs over to where the girl still held the steel shackles in front of her: He was obviously unsettled by the loss of control, control that he had enjoyed without interruption until this night. He made himself, he willed himself, to do as his wife asked. If they wanted to punish him, he would take his medicine as best he could and not complain later. He could do it. He would do it!

Karen held his chin on the fingertips of her right hand for a moment; she gazed into his eyes, smiled benignly, and finally nudged him a little to turn him around so that his back was to her. She reached down with her right hand and took the man's wrist; she shackled it with one of the cuffs as though she'd had years of practice. She then took his other hand and repeated the maneuver. Mac was cuffed very tightly now and his arms and hands were useless to defend himself. Judy, meanwhile, watched in amusement as her man was readied for his ordeal, an ordeal that she was beginning to understand would be memorable.

Judy wasn't sure she entirely approved of the goings on, amused as she was or not. She was really a sub not a top. Karen was taking all of the initiative, but at some point she would be called on to in some way abuse her man. Could she do it? She'd know soon enough, she supposed.

In the meantime Mac had been relieved of his shoes and his pants and his underpants all of which had been kicked off and away into the corner. He still had on his shirt, but Karen was already busy rolling it up to his armpits so that he was essentially stark naked in front of the two women.

"Well, Mac, it seems that your johnson is excited about this business," said Karen. She wasn't smiling at him, but her eyes seemed to be laughing anyway. His cock throbbed from its excited situation and it stood madly at attention a full seven inches in extension and as thick as a man's wrist. Karen let the index finger of her left hand trace its length; it bobbed and weaved at her sensuous touch. Karen acted as though she were quite familiar with how to punish a man; still, she could not refrain from giggling at the man's near helpless state.

Judy wasn't sure she liked her sister playing with her man's cock, teasing or not. But she couldn't really complain either. Karen was going to let him screw her, as per their earlier agreement, but only after she chastised him, and that, no matter what. Judy would suck him some more first; It would be her spit that made his cock slide more easily into her sister's cunt.

"Judy would you tie his right leg while I do his left?" Judy took the proffered length of hemp and bent to the task tying the knot very tight; Karen was but only slightly more merciful. He was spread-eagled now and totally helpless. Judy held the collar. Her sister laughed.

"Of course," said Karen, "a collar for a little doggie."

Judy strapped the collar on the prostrate man. "There honey. Hope it's not too tight, but I don't think it is." Karen did the honors with the leash.

"Get me the switch," Karen said to her sister. "It's almost time for your spanking Mac. Do you have anything to say before I begin to give it to you."

"Karen-I don't know about this…"

"Second thoughts, Mac? It's too late. You're doomed I'm afraid. I am going to spank you. And then we're going to use you-both of us-you'll like that part I think."

Mac struggled futilely against his bonds. He wasn't going anywhere. "Judy! please," he begged. Judy ignored him; she'd gone through it; he could too; it was only fair, she thought.

Judy handed the switch that she had retrieved from the closet to Karen. The younger sister moved behind the tethered male. She playfully tickled the crack in his ass with the end of the switch. Mac jerked involuntarily at the tickling sensation. Karen raised her hand. A deft movement of her wrist brought the weapon down suddenly and ferociously upon the backside of the victim. He bucked as much as the bonds would allow. He bellowed like a

wounded bull. His body went into a twitchy, wiggly shiver.

While his spanking was going on, Judy stood transfixed. Barely twenty-four hours earlier, it had been her strapped to the same table, the same way. It was very, very sexy to be on this side of the switch, watching her man squirm as best he could to escape the sting of the whippy little tree limb. Seeing him gag on his own cries, and howl intermittently, and then again alternately beg for mercy: gawd it was hot!. She could not believe how cruel her younger sister was; she was a true meany. Her boyfriend must be totally pussy-whipped, she thought, to put up with one like Karen. Then it occurred to her: Mac was pussy-whipped too, a complete and total slave. Oh now! How clear it all was to her; her caveman was a cave-pussy, a wimp.

******

Karen released the thoroughly punished man from his bonds. She stripped herself completely and stood before the tormented male; she was smiling.

Mac for his part, also naked now, surveyed the two women. Karen had mounted the table and lay waiting for him. Karen was beautiful. Not pretty, but beautiful. She was slim. Her "C" cup breasts lay tauntingly on her perfectly proportioned torso. Her pussy was shaved smooth, and her little slit mocked him. He moved toward her and kissed her. She lay still, awaiting the invasion of her body that she had so fantasized about since the evening before.

Judy grabbed her man by his shoulder, spun him around and knelt before him. She was still dressed and she smelled intoxicating to the male. She held him by his penis. It was hard and thick and long. She licked it. She played with his scrotum and squeezed it "too" hard on purpose. She wanted to cause him discomfort. He'd acted like a little wimp, continually begging for mercy almost from the first spank. He would have to be trained, she thought; she was going to make a man out of him. Mac twisted his fist in his woman's hair and held her fast as she sucked him and then sucked him some more. Judy was in ecstasy; Mac was going to be required to get it up again after he fucked her sister; Judy needed a very sound screwing too.

Judy disengaged herself from Mac and led him over to the still prone Karen who had not even bothered to watch her sister play cocksucker. Mac now loomed over the woman and reached out to hold and knead her breasts. She spread her legs for him and reached down between her legs to grab hold of his thingy. She guided it to her sopping cunt. He was not going to be gentle; he speared her with one thrust hurting her, but not irredeemably so.

He began to thrust his pole into her willing loins. Karen spread her legs even wider to help him fuck her. Now it was she that was being punished. Punished by her victim's cock, and she was thrilled by it. He screwed her for at least twenty minutes before they both began to stiffen as they reached a well timed dual climax. He came and he came hard. Karen was faint from the exploding series of orgasms that rocked her fragile female frame. The little sex party had been a roaring success.

Judy could not have been happier. She would invite Karen back for an encore as soon as possible; she had some ideas of her own. In the meantime, she had a husband to train.

******

Mac was concerned. No, interested. He didn't know what he was. How, he wondered, had his wife's baby sister become so sophisticated. She was sassy, silly, and smart; those could be the natural traits of any intelligent woman, but the sexual adventurism she was capable of was not to be found in females less than several years her senior. He would investigate.

******

Back at home after her week of sexual highjinx, Karen, with Judy in tow for a few days, had set up housekeeping in preparation for being left without parents for the succeeding three days.

"We're home," said Karen as the got settled in after dumping their luggage in their room upstairs.

"Yes, and it's nice, but I miss Mac already," said Judy.

"He can live without you for a few days, Judy, it's not like you have been together forever or anything."

"Hmm. Wait until you fall for a guy; then, we'll see," said Judy.

"Not me," said Karen, "I like being loose and free."

"You know, Karen, You surprise me. In fact you surprise me just about every time I talk with you. How did you-I mean where did you…"

"Learn about boys and sex and stuff? The club."

"Club? What club? What are you talking about?" said the elder sister.

"A kind of play doctor club if you get my drift."

"Doctor? Doctor what? Make sense for goodness sakes."

"You know, when you're a kid, little girls and little boys play doctor. You get to pull down their pants and look, and they get to lift your dress and do the same. Play doctor, get it?"

"You mean you learned all of this playing doctor with little boys?"

"No, silly. With big boys. And not playing doctor, though I've played nurse a few times. It's a sex club. I've been in it it since I got out of high school. If mom and dad ever found out I'd be killed. I mean they're liberal and everything, but not that liberal."

"No shit," said Judy about as stunned as she'd ever been. "Are you're nuts!"

"Oh it's safe. The boys have to use condoms and we don't screw that much anyway; there is plenty of other stuff to do without fucking every time we see a guy's dick in front of us."

"I cannot believe it. Why did I not know? I mean I was around. I dated and stuff."

"My boyfriend got me in it," said Karen, "Lars."

"I have got to know. How did he ever convince a girl raised as you were raised, and I know how you were raised, to join such a club?"

"Well, I was bored. I was not a virgin, as I told you. He begged me on his knees. Told me I could punish him if I was even slightly offended or even bored. And, well, I was curious as hell about it."

"Wow."

"I've gotta tell you, from the very first it was a kick. I loved it."

"How did you get into the B&D; stuff? I mean I know that had to be a slower process."

"Hmm, yes, it was. There was a Halloween party. Witches and all. We girls chained the guys to the wall and pretended to torture them; then we did torture them. And I don't know, I liked the way Lars jerked and cried and whined and wiggled, the whole thing. That night he sucked my toes and tongued and my pussy-oh gawd how I love to have my pussy sucked by a desperate male. I even peed in his mouth; he swallowed it all too and thanked me

afterward. He's completely pussywhipped of course. Completely my property."

"Who's all in this-club?" Judy asked.

"Well about 15 or 16 guys and about the same number of girls, maybe one or two less; it changes as some marry or move away. But there's always a new crop of candidates."

"And you've never had any problems with a place like that, I mean the club?"

"No, and the whole thing is, we're consenting adults and no money is ever involved; it's perfectly legal." Karen laughed thinking about something.

"What?" said Judy

"Ms. Halloran is in it."

"The P.E. teacher?"

"Yeah, one of our members has something on her; lez stuff, you know. Maybe sex with a minor too; I don't know. She doesn't dare open her mouth. But we don't harm anyone, and no one has ever gotten pregnant or hurt with us. It's just sex."

"Criminy! I can hardly believe it. How tight are you with this Lars kid? I mean I know you say he is your slave and all, but I wouldn't trust that. I know men; they're weak and flighty and stupid sometimes. Oh, and did I forget to mention big-mouthed?"

"No, I'm sure of Lars. I'm even thinking of branding him."

Judy's mouth flopped open at that. "What the fuck! You wouldn't dare! He could have your ass in jail."

"Not if he is willing, silly. I haven't decided yet. But if I want him to, he'll drop his pants and present his butt to me, and I'll fry his pink little ass; don't you doubt it," said Karen

"I'm just having a hard time with all of this. Don't you feel odd doing this stuff? I mean—it's not normal after all."

"Is too. It's the weirdoes who make everything that's even slightly interesting illegal or sinful or whatever that 'aren't normal.'"

"Anyway, you really interested Mac. I think he wants to have another go. I told him it would be okay with me. I liked it too, but I have to tell you, I am still a little uncomfortable with it all."

"So was I in the beginning. And contrary to what you probably think, I did not just spread my legs when I first joined the club; it was a while before I did it, but I did suck a lot of cock and whip a lot of butts right off the bat. I really like seeing a boy dance while I spank the stinker out of him.

"Just for the record, your Mac is something of a wimp isn't he? I mean I hadn't heard so much whining and begging in a long time."

"It was his first time. He'll get used to it if I want him too."

"Yes, I suppose he'd have to," said Karen. "So would you like to come to a meeting?"

"What meeting?" asked Judy.

"Of our sex club, silly. You'd like it. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. A lot of beginners just watch the first few times, and then later join."

"I don't have to join in?"

"No," said Karen. "And there is no pressure. Anyway, it's no fun if the member doesn't join in willingly," said Karen.

"Well, just what exactly do you do?"

"Everything. Members strip to their underwear when they come in, that's a requirement, but it stops there unless the member wants to do stuff. Oh, and guests do not have to strip unless they want to; nobody will even ask you or notice you if you don't. If you do strip, though; then, you are open to propositions that you can reject or not if you're not a full time member. I wasn't at first."

"Be more specific will you?"

"Well, someone like you could just go and sit on a guy's lap and whisper what you want him to do in his ear. If you're a member he will most likely do what you want, but he doesn't have to. But, usually, the only reason he wouldn't is if he had prior appointments or orders from a femdom, like myself, to be monogamous," Karen said.

"So, are you going to come?" asked Karen pushing it.

Judy smiled the smile of a woman who had just discovered the "truth." She hadn't of course, but she was not concerned about details at this point, only about missing out. "Yes."

"Good."

******

Caveman: part three

By Matt Moreau

There were about twenty people scattered about the two story suburban home. The Back yard was well treed and the front broad. The combination secured the house itself from the prying eyes of the neighbors. Someone had put in a stack of CDs, but had left the volume low; conversation was everything here; music was but a background mood enhancer.

Walking in the door, Karen had gone directly to a nearby closet, pulled out a hanger and removed her clothes; she retained only her panties, a pink thong, and her bra. Others in attendance were attired similarly.

Judy remained clothed for the moment as did two others a man and a woman; they seemed to be a couple, but were engaged in conversation with separate others.

Judy felt exhilarated, but unsure of herself. She was monogamous, she told herself. Mac might understand or he might not; she wanted him to at least have the choice. Two guys were already surrounding her sister Karen. One was exploring her fanny with one hand while the other was toying with a lock of her hair while he spoke to her; she was smiling; things looked good for the two studs this night, thought Judy.

Another girl, a redhead, was being towed in by her boyfriend on a leash. He took her by her ponytail and bent her forward over the back of the couch. He roughly yanked her panties down to her ankles and kicked her feet wide; he wasn't brooking any nonsense; this girl was going to be fucked without ceremony. Pulling his tool out of his jockeys, he stroked his six-inch penis a couple of times before pressing it against the slit of his partner. He lunged forward and buried himself to the hilt inside the woman's pussy. His thrusts pounded her buttocks and his sac lashed her bottom rhythmically. She squealed in pleasure as he screwed her royally. She pushed back into him animalistically trying to get him to thrust deeper into her cunt. He leaned over her now, wrapping his arms around her and pinning her arms to her side as he powered his final thrusts into her, unloading his sperm inside of her. Spent, he lay languidly over the females back trying to get his breath.

Judy hadn't seen her sister for some minutes-she had seemingly disappeared-mesmerized as she was by the fucking she had witnessed. She decided to try and find her. Wandering down the long hallway, she spied two semi-open doors. The second revealed her sister on her knees sucking the dick of one of the men who had been toying with her but moments before. In the corner was another man, a different one. He was facing into the corner and his hands were tied behind his back. His legs were spread wide and his sac was clearly visible from the rear.

Judy knew at once that it must be Lars, her sister's slave. He was being made to stand there knowing his mistress was on her knees sucking another man's cock; it must be killing him, thought Judy. She walked in.

Moving briskly over to where Karen was on her knees, she pulled her up and pushed her away grabbing the boy's penis as she did so. "My turn sister dear," said Judy; he was still fully clothed.

Dropping to her knees she inserted the man's shaft into her mouth and laved it luxuriously. She sucked slowly. She wondered if the boy thought that she was as good a cock sucker as her sister. She decided that he probably didn't give a damn.

Karen meanwhile, had taken Lars over her knee and was spanking him furiously with a hairbrush. He bucked crazily but did not attempt to avoid his punishment or to beg for mercy he knew it would not be granted. Karen spoke to him softly while she rained down spanks on his tortured bottom. He was crying now, but still not whining for mercy or trying to escape; talk about pussywhipped, thought Judy.

Karen stopped spanking her slave and made him lay on his back across the flat surface of a barren coffee table. She lowered herself over his face and commanded him to eat her. She turned herself so that her butt hole would be directly over his nose while his tongue did its duty. He clearly had not "eaten" in an age, a fact attested to by his unaffected gusto. Karen, trying to maximize her pleasure, ground his face with her pussy while commanding him to lick and suck harder. The poor man tried, but Judy's insatiable sister was not giving him quarter. Only a series of sudden, violent, jerking movements on the part of his mistress finally relieved the boy of his labor.

For some two hours the girls stayed at the clubhouse and played with various sexually liberated lotharios. Sated was a word seldom heard between them, but it surely described them this day.

******

Watching the many scenes today, gave me and idea," said Judy.

"And?" said Karen.

"While you were off doing your thing, you know before I found you, I saw something that really turned me on," said Judy.

"And?" repeated the younger sister.

"I saw a guy butt fucking another guy. The guy getting the screwing clearly did not like it. I think he was deathly embarrassed."

"That was Dale Pinkly and Darlene Pinkly's slave, Marty. Dale and Darlene are brother-sister. Darlene was ticked at Marty's making passes at some of the girls and commenting on their clothes as they arrived, so now she makes Marty wear female underwear and let's any man fuck him who wants to or who she can talk into it."

"I see. Well, anyway, I'd like to bring Lars to our place and let him butt fuck my Mac."

"Really? And do you think that Mac would go for it?" asked Karen.

"I can safely say that Mac will do as I wish in the matter."

"Well, yes, but…"

"I know, I know, you aren't sure of your Lars, Right?"

"No, no, I guess not. He is my slave. If I want him to butt fuck your slave, he'll ram that pole of his up as far and as deep as I tell him to."

"Then it's settled," said Judy, "you two will come over for dinner next Friday night and we'll do it then."

"Okay" said Karen with a matter-of-fact look on her face. "But, are you going to clue in Mac before hand or leave him in the dark until the last minute?"

"I'm gonna keep him in the dark till the dinner. It'll be more interesting watching him realize what's gonna happen to him when the guy who's gonna do him is sitting right across from him eating."

"Yes, very interesting," agreed Karen.

******

The greetings had been sincere. Everybody liked everybody. Drinks were light but capable of producing a minor buzz if the imbiber were not as careful as the occasion merited. Mac especially wanted to go slow on the tequila-his favorite drink-he was completely aware that tonight would be special, if not exactly how it would be special.

Mac also knew that control had passed from himself to his love. She would set the tone for the night. She it was that would determine the night's course. She, not Karen, would be the matron in charge of, well, the sexual matters to be indulged in. And it thrilled him. He liked not having to make the sexual decisions. He allowed himself that he had done fairly well at leading, at being master, but he harbored no illusions that it had ever been easy for him. Since the night of his first spanking from Karen, he had become completely comfortable with the notion that his marriage would be a matriarchal union, and one he would thoroughly enjoy; the thought caused his penis to extend to half again its resting length.

The dinette showed the remains of the special, but light, dinner that Judy and Karen had planned and prepared so well. It would never do to have one of their silly men farting in the middle of the show, let alone either of the sisters. Mac was aglow with anticipation. He had plied Judy with query upon query trying to find out what was in store, but she was adamant in her refusal to say anything substantive. His most aggressive interrogatives got him only a playful," We'll just let the evening chart its own course."

Judy and Karen of course knew exactly what was going to transpire and were iron-willed in their determination to "not" let Mac have a clue. Lars had been told. He'd balked some at first, but Karen's cane had reminded him of his place and of his duty. Bent over the back of a chair at the club house, he had danced crazily on his toes as she whipped his naked buttocks mercilessly. With his pants held tightly by his knees, he was a squirming,

begging, whining example of the uselessness of questioning his owner's prerogative.

"So, What now girls?" asked Mac growing impatient with the waiting.

"You know, Mac," said Judy, "you are so impatient. You men, all of you, have it easy. We girls cook and entertain and take responsibility for nearly everything. All you guys do is sit back and demand to know what's next on the menu."

"Oh come on, Judy, we're not that bad. Heck, I think that girls have it easier than us guys do."

"Oh really," said Karen. "I'd like to see you do what we have to do if you think it's all so easy for us females! I bet you'd throw in the towel in a New York minute." She was setting him up, and he hadn't a clue what was happening to him. She smiled inwardly.

Mac looked over at Lars for support. His male cohort just smirked. "What do you think Lars? Do guys or girls have it best?" asked Mac.

"Oh, I don't know; Karen, does do a lot of stuff; I mean she works hard as far as I can see. I guess if I had to say, I'd say that the girls maybe get the short end of things."

"Chicken!" said Mac smiling.

"Lars is not chicken, Mac. I've trained him and he does and says what he knows will please me. You should do as much for Judy," said Karen meaning it.

"But I do. Don't I sugar cakes," said Mac hoping for some vestigial support from his squeeze.

Judy sensed the time was right. "Wanna back up your claims, Mac?" asked Judy in a voice so sultry that Mac's cock almost burst through his pants.

Mac was no dummy. He knew he was beginning to get it that he was being set up. He didn't care. He decided to take the plunge come what may. Judy was so pretty in her black sheath. Karen was gorgeous too with her jeans tucked into her expensive cowgirl boots, and her white sleeveless blouse. Whatever the cost he was gonna enjoy the hell out of this night. "Yeah, I'll back it up. What have you got in mind?"

"Okay, I'll tell you," said Judy, "but no fair backing out after I tell you."

"I'm not gonna back out, promise."

"Okay, then. We're gonna give you an opportunity to see what a girl goes through on a date."

"And how's that exactly?"

"Karen's going to show you," said Judy. Karen stood. She walked around to the head of the table where Mac sat, pulled him to his feet by his western string tie, and guided him out of the dinette into the hall and down it to his and Judy's room.

******

Lars and Judy were now alone at the table.

How'd you meet Karen, Lars, I don't think you ever said?"

"Oh, we had dated a few times. Then, I heard of this club, well you know, you've been there. We went together, at my suggestion. We became close. The rest is history," said Lars.

"How come you became her-property?"

"It's okay, don't be uncomfortable about it; I'm proud of it. Simple. She's gorgeous, and I would do anything to keep her. She knew that. She soon had me in handcuffs, then feminine underwear…"

"You mean panties, don't you Lars?" said Judy interrupting him.

"Yes, panties. Then other things. Then the make up. Then one night she got mad and almost dumped me."

"Almost?"

"Yes. I begged her to stay. I begged her on my knees. Some of the players at the club were into spanking; it gave her the idea, and I really got the business end of my own belt that night; I still remember it if you can believe it."

Judy was fully ready to believe it. she'd seen her sister in action; Karen had a cruel streak. "Can I ask you? You enjoy being punished?"

"Yes, and yes. Nothing, and I mean nothing, thrills me more than presenting my buttocks to her with a switch or a belt in her hand. Sometimes it stings so much I can barely stand it, but I always do, somehow. I don't even have a safe word anymore. She can do as she likes with me. Surrender, is the ultimate pleasure."

"You think so?" she said.

"I do. I know it as a great truth. That's why I knew Mac was wrong about what he said before. Wrong in the sense that women don't sacrifice more than men do. But, then again, he was accidentally right, when he implied that women get more pleasure than men do. They do, the women, because they can surrender themselves to their masters and experience the ultimate that I spoke of."

"I see."

"Karen said you like to be spanked. So I guess it really is true."

"Yes. But I'm also beginning to like the other side as well."

Just as Lars was going to comment Karen and Mac reentered the room. Lars was completely taken aback. Mac was now a woman. Recognizable as Mac, but utterly female. He was wearing a tight fitting black sheath dress, a bra with some kind of falsies, low heels, billowing blond female hair, and serious make up. Judy spoke.

"My gawd, Karen! What have you done to my man."

"Do you like it?" Karen asked, clearly very pleased with herself.

"Yes! Lars, how do you like it?" asked Judy not fearing his answer.

Lars found his voice. "I like it fine. He's my date?"

"Yes, Lars. This is Mindy. She's not allowed to talk, but she is very willing," said Karen.

The little group automatically moved into the den, the same room where all but Lars had pleasured themselves more than once. There were some changes now. Mac had put up curtains as per Karen's suggestion and installed an eight foot couch and a matching love seat as well.

Lars walked slowly over to Mindy and put his arm around her. He hardly noticed Judy turning down the dimmer switch reducing the harsh light to a romantic glow. Lars guided the new female over to the couch.

Karen took Judy's hand and led her to the love seat on the other side of the room.

******

As Karen had led Mac down the hall for his makeover, he still wasn't aware of what was in store for him. Karen was about to educate him.

As they entered the spacious bedroom, that Judy had helped him decorate only some weeks before, Mac could no longer stand the suspense. "So, what up Karen? What have I gotten myself into?"

"Sit down, Mac. No, not there. There, by the vanity."

Mac was puzzled, but he complied. Mac you said you were game for anything true?" The man nodded, but it was clear he was uneasy. You get to be a girl tonight," she said matter-of-factly.

The look on his face was that of disbelief to the point of comedy. Then the shock turned to pallor as her words sank in. "You're kidding, right?"

"You did say anything."

"But I'm not a woman. I can't be a woman. I am a tall muscular man. I 'need' to be a man; it's what I do!"

"Yes sir. And you do it so well. I saw you fuck my sister. And when you did me, it felt 'sooo' good, but tonight I'm going to dress you and make you over and turn you into a very fuckable girl and Lars is going to do you. Exciting huh?"

Mac had the sensation of not being able to move; even his fingers refused to twitch. He felt hot and buzzzzy. He understood very well what she had said, but her words held no reality no feasibility no "possibility"!

Karen, beautiful Karen, walked over to him and gently, as only a delicate female could, lifted his face with the tips of her fingers. "Let me do you Mac. I promise you will thank me. It will please me, and it will please your Judy. We want to see you screwed like a girl gets screwed. We want to see you lose your virginity. Please?"

In a voice that was barely a shaky whisper, he said, "Okay."

She made him stand up. She undressed him. Very lightly and briefly she toyed with his rock hard penis. She had him sit. She applied makeup to his eyes: shadow, mascara, liner. She used a very fine coat of foundation to his baby smooth face. The lipstick was next—an orangy shade. Then she applied a perfume more suited to a whore than to a well bred fem.

Finally, it was time to clothe his nakedness. Black thong panties with built-in tummy tightener to restrain his bulging cock. Next his bra and a set of teenage falsies of a type that she herself had worn as little as three years earlier. The shoes she slipped on his feet fit perfectly; a set of low heeled black pumps. The sheath dress was next to last; she could see he secretly loved the feel of it. Last of all, the wig. Mac was a new person, a new female person.

Looking in the mirror, Mac was all but in love with his own image, never mind that it was a mythical one.

******

As the girls settled into the depths of the love seat, Lars was already busy pulling his slightly reluctant date closer to him. His arm around the fem's shoulder was controlling. The hand of the other arm was sneaking up the black sheath causing Mindy's thigh muscles to contract spasmodically. Soon Lars was feeling the restrained hardness of his sissy-girl. "Relax Mindy, I promise to make you glad it was me that took you first."

Mindy, for her part was getting into it. Something had come over her. Being feminine was intoxicating. Surrendering to a man was arousing him as surely as he had ever been aroused by a female partner. And Lars was teasing his privates in a most practiced manner. She let him have his way.

Lars stood. He pulled at Mindy to make her turn around. Mindy found herself with her back to her man, while kneeling on the couch with her butt stuck backwards in a most lascivious pose. Lars stood behind her and traced the outline of his date's buttocks and the crease that divided them. He lifted her dress and let an index finger invade the crease itself. Mindy felt the string of his thong pulled slightly to the side and a finger insert itself into her sphincter; it probed deeply.

Judy had her arm around Karen, and had slowly insinuated her left hand into her sister's bra. Karen decided to let her sister do as she pleased with her. Judy used her right hand to unbutton her sister's jeans. Soon she was massaging her clit through her sopping panties. Karen turned to her sister and kissed her deeply, passionately.

Lars had by now applied KY-jelly to his date's rectum. Having stripped his pants to his ankles, he was now pressing the tip of his tool against the fem's backside and sliding his cock in with some difficulty.

Mindy was gasping in discomfort, but she was not trying to evade her fate; indeed she was pushing back against the invader's cock. Lars finally gained entry into Mindy's virgin hole. He waited. He whispered words of encouragement to her. A length he leaned forward wrapping his arms around the bent over fem; one hand found the other's loins and squeezed the she-male's shaft. With that Lars buried his cock deep inside the fem and began a rhythmic pumping motion. Mac almost fainted with desire, overcome as he was with the pleasure-in-pain of it all.

Soon Lars exploded. Mindy was making unintelligible noises as he felt hot cum fill his anus.

Karen was humping three of her sister's fingers and stiffening as wave after wave of orgasmic passion swept her along.

******

The morning after, Karen and Lars left early. Judy and Mac screwed like bunnies until noon, when spent, and finally unable to perform, they went downstairs for coffee and bagels and cream cheese.

"Well?" she asked smiling broadly.

"Well what?" said Mac.

"You know what," said Judy

He surrendered. "It was okay. I really got into it after a little bit. It did hurt at first though. I prefer being a man, but the occasional game is okay," he said.

"You looked pretty good you know. I think Lars really was turned on by you," said Judy.

"Trust me I know he was. As he was fucking me, he kept whispering for me to be a good baby and take my screwing like a real woman. You know, it made me feel better; I mean his whispering to me."

"Really?"

"Yes. But this morning when you rolled me over and impaled yourself on my cock… Well, gawd it felt good and safe and fun and sexy and wonderful. You have the best pussy I've ever fucked."

"Better than Karen's?" Judy's smile betrayed her amusement at his discomfort.

"I won't kid you; she's a trip. But yes, you're the best flat period."

She believed him. "Let's join Karen's club."

"Consider it a done deal," he said.

******

Judy was as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof. She was a member of the club now, as was Mac, but Mac wasn't here at the moment nor was Karen, but the blond crew-cut across the room was, and he was eyeing her. The few others lolling around the large foyer were otherwise engaged. She stared back not wanting to seem as nervous as she was.

She had stripped to her black bra and panties as per the club rules. She wished now that she had at least worn more substantial underwear. Her thong panties were almost worse than nothing at all, and the very revealing bra part of the ensemble "was" worse than nothing at all. "Oh shit," she said almost audibly, "he's coming over."

"Hi, I'm Jerry."

"Hi, I'm Judy. I should say," she added quickly, "that I am also nervous and new."

Jerry laughed the throaty laugh of a confident and warm personality. "I understand. Would you like it if I leave you alone for a little while?"

The words were the right words for Judy. They disarmed her inhibitions to a large degree and gave her confidence that at least the guy wouldn't be pushy. Boy! Gawd! He must be no almost forty, she thought. What was she doing even talking to him. "How old are you if I might ask."

He wrinkled his brow. "Does it matter?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I'll be thirty-five in a couple of weeks."

Judy was about to say all of the things that she should have said. She

changed her mind. Che sera, she thought to herself. "How long have you been a member?"

"Just for a few months."

"You seem confident and used to the place," said Judy coolly.

"I don't see anything wrong with 'the place' as you call it. Maybe that's why I have no problem with confidence and things like that. But in case you were wondering.

"And what do you like to do," Jerry. "I mean whaddya like to do here?"

"Oh, anything pretty much."

"Could you narrow that down a little?"

"I'm kinda into the dominant thing. I've spanked a bunch of gals since joining here."

"Really?" said Judy intrigued.

"Yeah. I really have. Spanked them I mean."

"Anybody special?"

"No I spank 'em all. Any who want it. I get to feel 'em up afterword and suck on their titties."

"Ever got it yourself?"

"No! I couldn't take a serious spanking. Some of the girls around here really get it on when their using that switch. Especially that girl Karen. But, being on the business end of one those things is not for me."

"Really?"

"Hey, are you a domme?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, as a matter of fact I'm more of a submissive, but to be honest I have tried the other side some too."

The smile on the man's face widened. "Would you be wanting a scene tonight?"

Judy almost burst out laughing at the relative innocence of the question. He was more than fifteen years her senior, and she was thinking of letting him do her.

"Maybe. I would want to not be marked up though."

"No problem."

"What else would you want to do?" she asked getting more and more excited as she conversed with him.

"Nothin' you'd not want me to do," he assured her; "them's club rules you know."

"Yes, so I heard. But tell me, what 'would' you like to do to me?"

Jerry was being cautious. He wanted to tell her, but not to scare her off. He had to be straight with her he told himself; she'd know he was holding back and maybe not rust him because of it. The truth he thought; always the truth.

"After I cuff you. I might blindfold you. I would play with your body some; you know, feel you up; maybe probe your anus and your vagina with my finger. I'd kiss you for sure. I'd save sucking your titties until after I punished you."

Judy felt her face flush. He was reading her mind. And he wasn't going to fuck her. She was glad of that; she didn't want to do that with anyone other than Mac, at least not without him being present to okay it. She raised her wrists in front of her.

He grabbed one without saying a word and pulled her gently along to a room down the ground floor hall. They entered a dimly lit room with gold and black stripped wallpaper. There was a low flat bench in the center of the room. Laying on the bench were cuffs, a wicked looking rattan cane, and some lengths of rope. Judy shivered; there would be no turning back once she was cuffed and trussed. Just how ferocious was this apparently gentleman going to be with her? That was the question.

"I'm going to kiss you," he said. He bent forward and kissed her lightly on her lips smearing her deep red lipstick. "Please just stand there. Don't move or look around. I am going to look you over better."

Judy did as he commanded. She could feel his eyes boring holes in her behind. For some reason she could feel her anus getting warmer. What was it he had said: he was going to probe her holes with his finger.

"I'm going to cuff you now," he said. "I won't make it too tight, but I have to make sure that you can't escape, okay?"

"Okay," said Judy hoarsely.

The man pulled her hands behind her and cuffed her tightly. She was his now; she would be disciplined, and that probably severely. She felt him undo the clasp of her bra. he pulled it gently off and dropped it at her feet. She could feel his hot breath behind her as he knelt to lower her panties. Her naked Venus mound was exposed now. He was still on his knees behind her. She felt him part her ass cheeks. he kissed her asshole. He licked it.

He licked it some more then began to suck it into his mouth; clearly he was excited by her rear door.

He moved around in front of her and began stripping off his shorts and t-shirt. Judy felt the blindfold being removed. He backed up for her to see him. His excitement was obvious. He had about a five inch cock, but it was very thick. Judy thought she wouldn't mind him getting a piece of her ass, but not tonight.

Jerry leaned forward and gently massaged her breasts. Her nipples were as hard as his cock. His hands seemed to cover every inch of her. Finally he was tracing her slit. She felt her knees buckle in response to the stimulation. She spread her legs a little to encourage him. He took the hint. His finger began gliding up and down the length of her slit. He plunged in to the hilt of his middle digit. She moaned.

"It is time for your spanking," he said. "Would you like to make any special requests?'

Judy didn't respond. She just slowly shook her head.

He pulled her over his knee. He played with her crack for a little while, and then his hand descended in shocking fury. Judy bucked and squirmed as he slowly hand spanked her very hard. She growled and cried and begged and whined all to no avail. He stopped. She thought he was through. He wasn't. He got her up and made her kneel on the floor and bend over the low padded bench. She saw him retrieve the cane. Gawd, this was gonna sting she thought, sting real bad. It did. At one point she tried to roll off and onto her back to get relief, but he was stronger than she, and he forced her back up and into position; he continued with her punishment.

After a while, he made her lay on her back with her legs splayed and her wrists still cuffed uncomfortably behind her while he ate her pussy raw. She came at least a half dozen times before he released her.

They hugged and she cried and he comforted her. He told her she did not deserve to be punished, and that he only did it to selfishly pleasure himself. He was glad that she was happy, uncomfortable for the moment, but happy.

-----------------------------

   Series:Charlie and Megan Wilson
   Author:Matt Moreau
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.forum.allporncomix.com/threads/matt-moreau-cuckold-cheating-hotwife.1934/
Published:2024-03-05
"Who's that," I said, as we walked down the hall.

"Her? You can't afford her," said Marissa. "Besides you've got a date with a switch. So, let's try to focus shall we?" she said.

"Yes, yes of course ma'am," I said. For the price of $100 an hour, once a month for the past year, I had had the extreme pleasure of having my hide tanned real good by Marissa. Indeed, during that time, Marissa had been my exclusive date at The Chateau where she worked as a dominatrix.

Nevertheless, I knew all of the women that worked at The Chateau or thought I did. But, in that time, I had never seen the new mistress that had just passed us in the hall. She had to be new; like I said, I knew all of the other girls. Still, Marissa had always been my woman of choice to discipline me. Typically, up to two dozen hard ones was the norm and that usually with the strap. At any rate, I had decided that tonight I would move up in class; she was going to do me with the switch: a nasty little instrument with which to take the measure of a sub's courage.

She led me into the room and switched on the light; it, the room, had an appropriately red decor. I stood in the middle of the room and waited for instructions.

She picked up the ball gag from the table across from me and brought it to me. "This will mute some of your screams as we get into the meat of your punishment, Charles. There will be no whining or begging for mercy today. You asked for the real thing, and now you're going to get it. Get yourself up on the gallows, Charlie, and drop your pants down around your ankles," she said. I did as she commanded.

The gallows was actually a raised wooden base maybe two-foot square and eighteen inches off the floor. Above it, a noose of inch-and-a-half hemp hung down about waist high, a noose whose other end ran through a heavy hook in the ceiling and over to another hook in the wall where it was loosely tied off.

"Hands behind your back," she said. She immediately bound my hands tightly behind me with one of three strands of quarter-inch rope she'd gotten while I was mounting the place of my punishment.

Done securing my hands, she did the same with my knees and ankles. I was helpless and gagged. Whatever she was going to do, and I'd asked for no limits this time around, I would be helpless to do anything about it. I saw her go to the narrow supply closet across from me and take out two wicked looking switches. They were going to sting big time. Oddly, I wasn't afraid. In fact, all I could think of was the beauty I'd seen in the hall when we'd come in: the one I couldn't afford. My four-inch cock stuck straight out in front of me.

"Well, Charlie, last night some of the girls and I talked over what your sentence should be after you called and made the appointment. Glenda suggested fifty slow ones with the strap. But the others opted for a far worse sentence. That, after I explained to them that you'd requested a really harsh punishment. You're getting the switch today, Charlie, and you're getting one hundred not fifty. They will be slow ones so that you'll have time to really regret your choice," she said. I think I was shaking my head, but she was just smiling at me.

"Frightened, Charlie? You should be. It's too late for you to back out." She came close. She laid the switches down on the base I was standing on and wrapped my neck in a silken cloth, presumably to prevent me getting rope burns on my neck: I did have to work on Monday. Done, she slipped the noose over my head and around my neck, tightening it. Going over to the wall, where the other end of the rope was fastened, she took up the slack enough to force me up on my toes so that my head was bent slightly forward. I turned to see her walking toward me.

Picking up one of the switches, she walked around me wordlessly taunting me. I saw her raise her arm high. The switch cracked as it impacted by naked buttock eliciting a muted scream from the depths of me. Jesus it stung, and I had ninety-nine to go! My cock, which had been hard as a rock and sticking straight out in front of me, wilted like a flower in the desert heat.

My punishment continued. I was crying and doing my best to beg for mercy after the first twenty. She completely ignored me. I was going to get it this time and there was nothing that was going to save me. I was up on my toes and squirming like crazy. Each time I saw her raise her hand I tried to maneuver to reduce the impact; I was mostly unsuccessful. It was hell.

I couldn't be sure, but I think after about number seventy-five she started to slack off on the cruelty of the blows. But even so, it stung like mad.

My chest hair was soaked from the tears I was shedding. Then, she was done. My punishment had taken forty-five minutes. She casually walked over to the utility closet and put away the switches. Turning and looking at me she smiled.

"Well, now we know what a wimp you really are don't we stud," she said, mocking me. She went over to the wall and loosed the rope allowing me to stand flatfooted once more. God was that a relief. I hadn't cramped up, but almost.

Removing the gag first, she appraised me. My butt was black and blue and bleeding in a couple of spots. I'd be a week minimum getting over this one.

She came to me and played absently with my cock. "Hmm," she said. "It's coming back to life. Too bad you're such a candy ass, or I might be tempted to suck your cock." She was teasing me, but it was working. Even amidst the searing pain of my ass I was becoming almost hard once again.

She untied me, and told me to make myself presentable, and then she left the room. Getting down from the gallows, I pulled up my pants, and went into the adjacent bathroom to clean up my face and hair, the latter of which was soaked with perspiration. My gait was not steady, nor would it be for a while. But, at least I was able to control my urge to bawl.

Marissa met me in the lobby. "So, how was it stud? Sorry you asked for it?" she said.

"No, no. I needed it, but I won't kid you. If you hadn't gagged me, I would have begged you to stop. I mean it; that was really bad for a while," I said.

"Yes, well that's what punishment is supposed to be, stud. Remember that next time you ask for special treatment."

"I will," I said.

******

My butt was still plenty sore from my once a month session at the Chateau. But, apart from that I was fine. In fact fine wasn't the word: I felt good, satisfied, and kind of giddy. Marissa really knew how to push my buttons. In any event, that had been Saturday last; this was Monday; I had a job aching butt or not.

Class over, I headed for the cafeteria a good little distance across the quad. But wait…

I guess this is the point in this write where I should introduce myself. My name is Charlie Wilson. I'm a Ph.D. and an assistant professor of History at Hickory State College. At my current age of thirty-six, I find myself in good shape, and still five-five and one-fifty: same as I was in high school all those years ago. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a face that is so average it really is actually forgettable. Regardless, I was hungry: the usual result when I don't eat breakfast.

"Whatcha thinkin' about Charlie?" said a voice behind me as I strolled along the walkway.

"Raine, I didn't see you," I said. Raine Morgan was my counterpart in the English department.

"I kinda figured that when you jumped like you did," she said. She was giggling.

"Nothing just daydreaming I guess," I said. "I'm heading over to the caf. I'm starving."

"Okay, see you later," she said, and she headed off. And, as she did, I saw her. No, not Raine, but the stunner I'd spotted at the Chateau two days before. She was standing in the student line looking to get breakfast. I stared for the briefest of moments, but apparently not brief enough; she caught me looking. She smiled; I looked down and moved to the adjacent side counter where the teaching staff got their grub.

I took my tray and meandered among the tables to the far side of the cafeteria. I tried not to look back, but I did anyway. That I was embarrassed would not begin to tell the tale. There was a big black guy sitting with her. Probably an athlete by the look of him: tall, well built, and smiling to beat the band. Well, and well he might, he was with the prettiest female in the place. I wondered if he knew where she worked on weekends.

A horrible thought hit me! What if she were telling him that one of the teachers here was a client! I kept my eyes, not too obviously, focused on them. He never looked my way. I guessed she'd not said anything to him.

I got up, dabbing at my lips with my napkin, and took my tray to the dump window and pushed it through. She literally bumped into me trying to do the same thing as me. She smiled. "Hi," she said. I nodded and tried not to seem embarrassed.

"Hi," I said. Well, it was a short syllable, and I was able to get it out without betraying the turmoil overwhelming my psyche.

"You needn't be concerned, doctor Wilson. I'm not outing you. Just relax," she said. I just swallowed-hard. She knew me. I nodded.

"Oh, okay," I said. I turned and headed away, not wanting to get into a conversation. No, that's isn't right. I did want to get into a conversation with her, I was just too damn chicken to do so.

I had two more morning classes before I would be office bound for the rest of the day. The school was the academic home to eighteen thousand students. I figured that I might not be seeing her again, at least not so up close and personal, as had been the case today; and I was relieved at the thought. Well, that was my thought at the moment.

I hadn't exactly thought about her all morning, as I had kinda pushed thoughts of her to the back of my mind. I plied my trade diligently during my 8:30 to 10:00 and 10:30 to noon classes. Lee's strategy versus McClellan had its uses quite apart from its academic ones.

Noon found me once again on my way to the cafeteria. As I entered, I immediately saw her and she me. So much for my optimistic musings; she was smack in my path as I headed for the coffee urn. If I turned and ran, she'd undoubtedly deduce the reason why. I decided to just brazen it out. I went right by her table trying to not pay her any note. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the smirk: she knew.

My coffee poured, I had a decision to make. I made it. I pulled up in front of her table. "Excuse me miss, may I join you?" I said. She nodded in the affirmative and gestured with her hand for me to take a seat.

"Hi, I'm doctor Wilson, but you already know that, don't you," I said.

"Hi back atcha doctor, and I'm Megan Troyes; and yes, I know who you are, doctor. And, I know why you seem to be a bit nervous. But as I told you this morning, stop worrying. Everything's cool."

"Well, thank you for that. I was, I admit, a little nervous. I mean my position…"

"Doctor, you'd be amazed at how many others also have-fantasies," she said.

"I guess," I said. "You're a student here then, miss Troyes?"

"Yes, part time. The out of state tuition is high. It kinda limits my options," she said.

"How far along are you?" I said.

"I guess I'm a senior in terms of credits. Hah! twenty-eight years old and still trying to finish my B.A." she said. I smiled.

We talked for some minutes. She kept giving me looks that were hard to read. I made a snap decision. "Miss Troyes…"

"Call me Megan," she said. I looked at her.

"Okay, Megan, you can call me Charles or Charlie," I said. She nodded. "Can I ask you, would you be interested in having dinner with me this weekend?" She started to laugh.

"With you? A professor?" she said. "I don't know…"

"Oh, okay. I thought I'd take my shot," I said. "But it's okay. I don't want to seem a boor."

She studied me for a moment. "Sure, I'll go out with you, professor," she said, finally.

"Well-good," said a very surprised me. She was already writing down her particulars.

We talked for some little time. I learned she'd essentially been an orphan from about age six. She'd been poor, and that more or less recently, but her part time job at the Chateau paid well enough for her to be getting along now.

As she talked I appraised her physical being. Tall, maybe five nine, and slim. Her hair was longish and light brown. Her features were delicate and marked by very large brown eyes. She had a bubble butt and small A-cup breasts-well, one can't always have everything. In a word, she was beautiful.

What got me about her, though, was her personality. On weekends she was a strong willed mistress, but here, in the cafeteria, she was almost gentleness incarnate. I was forced to assume that her weekend persona was an act-interesting.

Regardless of anything else, I had a date with her. I wondered how it might go. I mean I was really wondering.

******

I was on time and she was ready. Weren't women supposed to always keep their men waiting. Well, I wasn't exactly her man, but I was her date. At any rate, I appreciated her consideration.

"You're on time," she said, "a good sign. Let's go."

"I'd thought to take her to a fancy dancy foodery and impress the hell out of her. But, she nixed that in favor of fun! We ended up at The inferno. And the owner's name was fittingly Dante Bartolo, go figure.

The inferno was a piano bar and grill, with a sweet singing black girl who reminded me of nothing so much as Aretha Franklin when she was young.

We ate, we danced, and we talked, a lot. The elephant in the room never got a mention. I found out about her stepfamily as she phrased it. I told her about my brothers who lived back east. She had a hobby, watercolors; she loved to paint. She found out about my career in Education. Like I said, we talked. Then it was time to go home.

Walking her to the door, I actually wondered if I would get a goodnight kiss. Gauging the tenor of the evening, I was of a mind to doubt it. But, I was wrong. The kiss was a scorcher.

"Goodnight, Charlie. I had a good time. See you at school," she said.

I'd been about to ask her for a second date just as she opened the door. But, in the background, I caught sight of the black man that I'd seen her with in the caf. It deflated me. "For sure," I said. "Sleep tight." She looked me askance.

******

I couldn't get her out of my mind. My dreams had never been so kinky. And she wasn't the only one I was dreaming about: her black lover got a lot of mention in there as well. Did I hate him? Probably. Jealousy will do that to a man. At any rate, I made the decision to try and get her out of my mind. I had no intention of competing with another man for the hand of even a woman like Megan, especially a man who was clearly a jock. No indeed, I had my pride.

I didn't see her the next week, nor the next. And, no I wasn't hiding from her. I just didn't try and see her. I was sure she was around, and I guess I had changed my meal habits a bit, avoiding the caf where it had all begun. But then something happened that would be the catalyst for a whole lot of other things.

It was a Saturday morning, seven freakin' o'clock Saturday morning! The doorbell from Hell rang and I reached for the gun I wish I had. Not finding one, probably a good thing, I got up, slipped into my robe, and headed for the front door.

I opened the door, and then my mouth-wide. "What the…!" I started.

"Name's Daryl Radcliff," said the tall well-built black man. "Got a minute?" I looked him up and down.

"I know you. You're the guy who hangs with Megan Troyes," I said.

"Hangs with her? No, not exactly, I'm her regular bull," he said.

"Whatever," I said. "What are you doing here?"

"She's wondering why you haven't seen fit to talk to her after your date a couple of weeks ago," he said. I gave him a look that should have indicated that he was out of bounds, but he ignored it, he clearly didn't care.

Gathering myself, "She wants to see me?" I said.

"Yep, that's about the size of it," he said.

"But, if you're her guy, why would she want to be seeing me?" I said.

"Her guy? Again, not exactly. I'm her bull, like I said. I get to fuck her, often in front of her boy toys; she enjoys watching them squirm. What can I say; it's her thing," he said. I mean you might have figured that; she does work part time at the Chateau.

"Hmm, Daryl," I said, "do I look like I'm interested in being one of her boy toys?" I said.

"Actually, yes, you do," he said. I stood back and gave him the hardest look I could. We were still standing in the doorway.

"Well, forget you, Daryl," I said, exaggerating his name. "Get off my property!"

"Whoa, whoa up there cowboy. I wasn't trying to insult you. I'm just here to let you know, that if you might be interested in talking to our girl, that she is more than interested in talking to you with emphasis on the 'more'," he said.

"I'm no boy toy," I said. "Yeah, she's darn pretty and all. But, I'm the kind of guy that expects his girlfriends to be one man women, not toy collectors if you get my drift."

"Hey, hey, you hardly know the lady if my info's straight. Give her a chance. Who knows, maybe you can turn her into a one man woman or something close to it," he said. I eye'd him.

"Close to it? What the hell is that, close to it?" I said.

"Hey, just call her. You can always walk if you're really not into the stuff she thinks you're into," he said. He'd said them, the unmagic words; but what he'd said, or more, how he'd said them, was not tinged with arrogance or contempt. He was just delivering a factual message. I was still a little miffed by his boy toy comments, but take those away and the guy wasn't doing anything all that reprehensible.

Was I hypocritical enough to deny what he was implying if not actually saying outright? No, no one could accuse me of being a hypocrite. Other things maybe but not that. I nodded.

"Okay, I'll call her," I said. He smiled.

"Good. Hope to see you again," he said. He stuck out his hand, and we shook. Then, he was gone.

I had a lot to think about, consider. How much had she told him? Who was he exactly to her-a bull? Was I willing to be one among many just to have her sometimes, even special sometimes? No, she was mine or not mine, no in between. And, exactly what did she do at the Chateau. It occurred to me that I really didn't know.

I'd thought about her all morning. It was almost lunch time. I gave her a call.

******

I was tapping the table top-nervously. She was late: twelve minutes late. I was about to take another sip of my drink when she startled me. "Charlie," she said. Her drink was already poured and sitting on the table in front of me; I'd seen to that: I learned what she drank on our first date. I took the first sip of mine now as she took her seat.

"Hello, Megan. You startled me," I said.

She smiled. "Yes, I can see that I did. I didn't mean to. Sorry 'bout that, really," she said.

"So how have you been?" she said.

"Okay," I said. I decided to get to it. "Look, Megan, we had a nice time on our date. And, Daryl, your messenger, got me to thinking. But, I'm not sure…"

"Charlie, I know Daryl talked to you. I sent him to talk to you as you say. So, before you go off on me, give me a chance to say my piece. It'll save time. Okay?" she said. I spread my hands in a reluctant 'okay' gesture, and she went on.

"Thank you.

"The Chateau? I work there part time. I'm not a dominatrix like your Marissa-and yes, she told me about your last visit there: kind of impressive, I mean one hundred!" I said nothing. "She likes you by the way. Anyway, I'm into dominating men and humiliating them and having them worship me: it's a kick, but normally I'm not all into that 'with a whip' stuff. I do it, whip my clients once in a great while, but it's not really my thing. Usually, at the Chateau, I get men that are purely desperate. Men who often are outright begging me to somehow get their wives to come and witness a session with me. I never do it. If they want their wives there; they have to bring them in themselves with no help from me."

"Wait, wait, the men you do at the Chateau, they want their wives there?" I said.

"Yes, they're mostly wannabe cuckolds. It's a kick to role play with them. And over the last couple of years I've learned to like watching them squirm in their make believe situations. So much so, that, on occasion, not often, I've developed relationships with this or that man, and, well, cuckolded him.

"Problem is that in my situation the man never realizes till after the fact, what he's become, and what he is to me. And, so, one hundred percent of the time, they shine me on and leave. Usually it's not real pretty. Lots of name calling, lots of angst, jealousy, ire: well, I'm sure a man as intelligent as you can figure it out," she said. I stared at her, hard.

"Let me guess. You want me to be one of your toys. But, in my case, I'd know about it up front. That about it?" I said.

"No," she said.

"No? Then what?" I said. She settled back in her seat. She smiled at me. She watched me. She was clearly appraising my ability to accept whatever it was that she was about to lay on me.

"What would you say to a proposal of marriage?" she said. I could actually feel my brow knitting.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"I want to marry you," she said. "I've thought about it, and, I think that we could both get what we want and need out of life. And, before you ask, yes, it will be a real marriage, and I would treat you very well."

"Marriage? You want to marry me? You'd treat me good? A real marriage? We've been on one date. I've talked to you but one other time besides that one date." I said. I could feel my face flush. I was tingly all over. Oh, and yes, my cock was rock hard. "And you want to marry me."

"Yes to all of the above," she said.

"Huh? Yes?" I really was too stunned, too confused to react in any meaningful way to what she had just said.

"Charlie, I know you need a little time to think things over. How about we meet here tomorrow and you can give me your answer," she said. "Same time okay?" I think I was nodding. She rose, came around and kissed me, patted me on the head, and left. It was surreal.

******

Again, I was early. I guess that had to indicate where my head was at, and don't say the obvious. This time she was on time, right on time.

"Hi," I said. She smiled.

"How we doing?" she said, as she took the seat closest to me.

"Okay. I did do what you suggested. I did think over your proposal."

"And?" she said. I got up, came around the table, and got down on my knees.

"Megan Troyes, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" I said. She knitted her brow.

"Yes, Charlie, I will. But…"

"But?" I said. "You asked me…"

"You do understand what our respective roles will be, right?" she said. I swallowed.

"I think so. I mean knowing what we know; I mean about each other's tastes," I said. "I mean, you'd be the boss, so to speak."

"Okay," she said. "Sort of. You'll still be the head of the household in most ways. But, Charlie, You will be, or rather will become-well-my cuckold. You do realize that, right? You really need to realize that."

I was quiet for a full minute. "Yes, ma'am, I understand. I'm a little bit worried about what something like that might mean for me, but I guess, I will just have to take a chance," I said.

"I can understand your concern, and we'll talk again. And, Charlie, I think it would be good for you to have another, I mean really private talk with Daryl. Would you be okay with that?" she said.

"Sure, yes, I guess so," I said. She smiled sweetly at me.

"Good," she said. "Charlie, I think we need to go out on a date tomorrow. I mean we are engaged. I think you need to get to know some of what it is that you're actually going to be getting-hmm-at least on rare occasions." she said, and then she laughed out loud. She sounded as giddy as I was feeling.

******

I picked her up at seven. She was flat gorgeous: long tawny locks, perfect makeup, a black sheath with a plunging neckline that ended two inches above the knee. Heels that had to have been five-inchers at least. I was shorter than she was to begin, but with those heels on she was way taller than me. Her only jewels were a string of what had to be real pearls, not even any earrings otherwise. Fuck she was a class act. If I was going to be a cuckold, it was sure as hell her that I wanted to be doing it to me.

We headed for the Lucky Star.

"Nice place," I said. "How did you find it; I mean it's so out of the way."

"Recommended to me, by one of-well-one of my former clients. It's only the second time I've been in here, and the first was over a year ago," she said.

"Well, I like it," I said. We were shown our seats and even before the waitress and the water arrived the band started playing and we got up to dance. We danced twice. Both slow, and she melded herself against me. My peter was pressed into her leg, and I got one of those smiles that told me that she knew she had me.

"It's pretty clear that you like me," she said, as we floated around the dance floor.

"Guilty," I said. "Can't deny it."

"No, that wouldn't be too useful given the evidence."

Returning to the table the menus were already lying there, and not ten seconds, after being seated, the waitress was there too taking our orders. We ordered drinks, and while we were waiting for them to arrive, we perused the menus. The rest of the early evening was spent drinking eating and dancing.

Twice after we had finished eating other gentlemen brazened themselves up enough to come and ask her dance. Both times she rose to go out on the floor with them. What was disconcerting was, not that she danced with them, but that she did it without so much as a glance in my direction let alone asking for my okay.

I bit my lip. I mean I was going to complain if she decided to dance with other men? I mean knowing in advance that I would soon be a knowing cuckold? I had to think that this, her dancing with other men, was the first phase of my training. I was soon confirmed in my suspicion when she returned after having danced with the second of the two interlopers.

"Not too upset with me?" she said as she took a sip of her wine. I slowly shook my head. I mean what else was I going to do.

"No, no, you're the boss," I said, "though I have to admit to being a tiny bit jealous." She continued to hold her stem glass in front of her while tendering me an amused smile.

"That's good," she said. "You're allowed to be jealous, just not obviously so. But, that was just a little testing of the waters. I am yours for the rest of the night, no more dancing with strangers. That said, take me out there and let's show these other people how to fox trot. Okay?" She was already rising to go out on the floor. To my credit, I was only a nano-second behind her.

We arrived back at her place a little after eleven. "You're staying here tonight, honey bunch. It's Friday; you don't have class tomorrow. Do you?" she said. I smiled. I was pretty sure that it was going to be a really good night.

"No, no classes for me on Saturday. A few profs do, but not me, not this term," I said. "Actually you can have me any Friday or Saturday night that you wish."

"Goody! We're going to have a lot of fun," she said. She stood back and looked me in the eye.

"Take off your clothes. I want to see you au natural," she said. She made no move to undress herself. I hesitated, but began undoing my belt. Soon my pants were pooled at my feet. I began unbuttoning my shirt. She stopped me.

"No, your underpants first," she said. "I think it's kind of erotic seeing a man standing with his bottom half exposed and naked while his shirt is still on.

I said nothing, but I pushed my Hanes south and stood in front of her. My cock was pointing straight at her and she looked at it appraisingly.

"Hmm, not exactly tiny, not large, but not tiny. I'll at least be able to feel you inside of me," she said. I could feel my face flush. "Take off the rest now." I did, and I stood naked and vulnerable in front of her.

She crooked a finger at me, turned, and headed for the back of the apartment. I followed like nothing so much as her pet.

As I entered her room, she was already kicking off her heels. Unhitching her skirt, it fell to the floor. Soon her snatch and her breasts were bare and her nakedness actually made my cock hurt.

"Well, don't just stand there staring, bub, get over her and take me," she said. I didn't have to be told twice. She crawled up on the bed and turned toward me. "Charlie, in almost everything I will, as you said before, be the boss in our relationship. It's what you want and need, and it's what I want and need as well. But, when it comes to doing me, like now, you are the master. You have to master me, and make me yours. It's nature, Charlie, so do me up good. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said. She smiled at my use of the term ma'am."

Up on the bed, she spread her knees and pushed her butt back at me daring me to take her. I was so ready. I knelt between her legs and rubbed the tip of my penis up and down her labia; she was already becoming slick with her own juices. I pressed four inches of fairly thick rock hard flesh inside of her and slowly began seesawing in and out. She mooed.

"Pork me, Charlie. Don't try and be nice to me; sock it to me-hard!" I followed her command. Soon I was banging her so hard that I was actually hurting myself. But, all she did was push back into me trying, I suspect, to get me deeper inside of her. I didn't have the length, but what I did have was enthusiasm and something, what, rage! I wanted to satisfy her in the worst way. I'd never wanted anything so badly in my life. I needed her to like, no, love doing it with me. I had to get her off, somehow! I felt her stiffen; she'd made it! I knew it. She'd made it. I gushed inside of her painting the walls of her vagina with what I thought a sea of cum. I began to shrink from her. I fell forward onto her back trying to catch my breath.

I rolled off of her and lay exhausted on the coverlet. She lay face down. Her breathing was almost regular. We stayed quiet, lost in our own thoughts for a long moment.

"That was good, Charlie. I almost made it. Just a little more, and I would have been over the top," she said. Her words deflated me. I was sure she'd made it, but I'd been wrong, maybe half a minute short of long enough. I wanted to cry. I'd given it everything I'd had, and I couldn't do it for her. She sensed my disappointment. She rolled onto her side and looked at me.

"You did fine, Charlie. I'm going to see to your training so that, when I let you, you can do me good. Okay?" she said. I looked her askance.

"Huh?" I said.

"Your training, I'm…"

"No, no, I mean the other thing you said. You know, 'when you'd let me'," I said. She frowned.

"Charlie, once you are a cuckold, you will only get off on rare occasions and be able to fuck me even less. It is the lot of the cuckold, I'm afraid," she said. "Charlie, it's the way it has to be. I thought you knew that. But, if you can't do it, maybe now is the time to find out. I mean before we're married. No pressure, Charlie, but you need to know your place." I knew she was right. I had known that, but hearing it made a deal of difference.

"How about before we're married," I said. Now, she smiled.

"You can have me as much as you want, Charlie, until I cuckold you. From now on until, well, until after our honeymoon at least. Okay?" she said. "I expect to be very well fucked in these next couple of months. Think you can accommodate me?" she said.

I was breathing hard, but not from exhaustion, from excitement. "Watch me," I said. I flipped her over on her back and took her rudely, animal-like. She howled, but she was smiling broadly while she did it.

******

"I hear you weren't half bad," said Daryl Radcliff. I shrugged.

"She said I didn't get her off. I guess, I really am not all that," I said. He laughed. I frowned; he didn't have to laugh at me.

He apparently realized he'd stung me a little. "Well, you'll be encouraged to know that I don't get her off every time either," he said. "I mean not with my dick, maybe half the time if I'm lucky. But, I never let her down. My mouth finishes the job for me when I come up a little short," he said.

"Yeah, well whatever," I said. "So what's going on? She said, no encouraged me, to talk to you."

"Yes, I'm aware. She wanted me to kinda give you a pep talk: You know a little perspective of what life might be like for you after you guys get hitched," he said.

"I already know all of that. Sex rarely, humiliation standard: that about it," I said.

"Hmm, kinda yes and kinda no," he said.

"Huh?"

"You'll more than likely have more than enough sex: the tantalizing variety if you get my drift. You'll just not be getting a lot of time inside of her with your cock. As for the humiliation thing That'll depend. There'll be some of that depending on how you react to being seen by others-the bulls. If what they say and do doesn't bother you all that much, then you won't actually experience all that much humiliation. What you will feel, and this is the point at least to some degree of the whole cuckold scene, is jealousy. You will be all but eaten alive by jealousy. And, that, my friend, is what she, our Megan, gets off on. She will do her level best to drive you to but one very short inch from insanity and laugh at you while you squirm and cry and beg for some small show of favor. It's what drove her other relationships into the ground.

"I will say, that I think she intends to do things a little differently with you. And, I don't think she even knows herself how she's going to work things out with you. But, I do know that she wants it to be a permanent thing. She does not want or need any more of what she's so far had, and she will do whatever she needs to, to ensure that such does not become the case."

"I've never been all that much into the cuckolding thing. Truth is, I've had almost no experience in it at all. I've mostly… " I started.

"Yes, I know, been into the discipline stuff," he said. " For her part Megan hasn't been much into that except at the request of her cucks. Really, she has never to my knowledge shown much personal interest in it at all. You'll get your bottom toasted pretty good, I'm sure, somewhere along the line; but a full blown lifestyle is likely not in the cards."

I nodded. "I see," I said. "It is kinda what she's said to me in so many words." His turn to nod.

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you've got a heck of a good thing going on a number of levels," he said. "Just don't let her drive you completely over the top. She's a wonderful woman and a superior piece of ass, but she's still capable of doing things wrong, going too far: well, you get the picture. She won't mean to, but it will happen probably more than once. When it does, just back off and go make yourself a stiff drink and wait for her to be regretful; that'll actually be a good thing for you if what I know about her holds true."

"How so?" I said.

"You'll get to fuck her. It's how she pays for her little mistakes without taking any particular responsibility for them. Women, most women, and our woman in particular, are not big on apologies. But, she and they are big on making it up to us poor suffering males," he said. I smiled.

"Okay," I said. "I get it."

******

The canopy protected us from the dazzling brightness of the sun. The lay minister held a book, no not that book, but one that she, the reverend Sheila Brooks, read from.

"And do you Charles take for your wife Megan, to love, honor, and obey as long as you both shall live," she said.

"I do," I said.

"And do you Megan, take Charles for your husband to love, honor, and guide as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she said.

"Then by the power invested in me by the state, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss each other."

And just like that I, we, were married and committed to each other. The minister, Sheila, was a close friend of Megan's. She congratulated us, and we all, including the best man, Daryl, and the maid of honor, Marissa, led the way to the reception room where the thirty-nine guests and ourselves were to celebrate.

The party lasted into the evening. There was dancing and good food and lots of joking around. Sheila pulled me off to the side for a brief word.

"Charlie, the woman truly loves you. You need to get your head around that and never doubt it. You do that, and the two of you will be fine," said Sheila.

"Thanks, Sheila, I appreciate your concern and your support. I think we'll be fine. I don't anticipate any problems," I said.

"Yes, and there needn't be any," she said. "The only possible fly in the ointment might be Megan's penchant for sometimes choosing poorly when selecting, well, you know. Remember you didn't marry any of her future bulls. You married Megan. If you keep that in mind, and remember that those men, all of them, are merely a collection of blips on the radar screen of life; well, then, you'll be fine."

"Okay, and thanks again. I do appreciate your words," I said.

The next two weeks were wonderful. The warm Mexican sun was fantastic. Sun and sand, and Megan in a bikini; god she was beautiful. And we fucked. We fucked a hundred times, or so it seemed. And then it was the last day, and I was scared. I felt like doctor Faustus at the end of his twenty year deal with the devil. She understood and tried to console me; she was only partially successful.

"It's your fate, Charlie. You have to man up now and accept your fate. And, not to worry, you will still be my husband and no other. I will still love only you and no other, and those are absolutes. But, that said, now it's my turn to get what I need out of our life together. It's the reason I wanted to marry you, Charlie, because I knew you could loved me enough to give me what I need. Anyway, enough said about that.

"Our wedding vows are now going to be our contract with each other. We will both love and honor each other. But, you will now have to be obeying me and I will have to be guiding you. Okay, my man?" she said.

I slowly nodded my submission to her. She smiled benevolently at me. I just had to hope it wouldn't be too long before I would be able to have her again. I needed her. I needed her bad. There was not the slightest shadow of a doubt that I always would.

******

"Tonight's the night, Charlie?" she said. I didn't have to ask her what she meant. I just nodded.

"I need to have you out of the house by 6:00PM. Okay?" she said.

"Okay. But, don't you-didn't you… " I started.

"Not this first time, Charlie. You will be here to watch and witness your cuckolding a lot, but this first time I need to be able to set things up with my bull. I will say that you'll get a full report in the morning-and-well a little something extra to eat if you get my drift, Charlie," she said.

"Okay," I said. I was actually looking forward to the next morning. "So, am I supposed to stay away all night?"

"Yes. Will that be okay? I mean this is your, our, home. I won't order you to not sleep in your own bed; but it would be more convenient overall if you came back say for breakfast. Would that be all right. Oh, and one more thing. No bull will ever sleep in our bed. We will be using the guest room only."

"Okay. It's okay, I'll just get a room for the night. And, yes, I will be back for breakfast. Can I ask? Will he still be here when I get home?" I said.

"Probably not. He has to work. But, if he is, just be polite and forget that anything happened. He will be getting the same instructions. I know this is going to be hard for you in the beginning. I intend to soften the experience as much as I can. That's why I am asking you to not be there the first time; it's best. So anyway…"

"Yes, yes, okay. No problem. And, I appreciate your kindness," I said. She smiled

"Kindness is going to be my middle name," she said. "Well, except for Saturday mornings." I looked her askance.

"Huh?"

"I've done some talking, with Marissa. She's clued me about you and her. So, every Saturday morning, at a set time, say 10:00AM, I'm going to spank you. And, I mean good and proper. Think you can handle that, stud?" she said. "I mean once a week instead of once a month?" She was smirking. I nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. I think so. I'll try," I said.

******

I watched her apply her makeup. She looked so beautiful. Shoulder length, curly brown hair. Porcelain complexion, dark eyes, ruby lips, no jewelry except for her pearl earrings and matching necklace. The dress she wore was a dark purple, short, and featured a plunging neckline. She wore no bra and only the skimpiest of panties. Her heels were three inchers also black. Her slim legs were bare. Her bull would not only be pleased he'd likely become as pussywhipped as I was and that in short order.

I was fully dressed, but on my knees watching her; she'd mandated that I be that way until she was ready for her visitor. I was being trained, as she said, and that just a little at a time.

"You're beautiful, honey," I said. She flashed me a smile of appreciation.

"And you're wonderful to be doing this for me," she said. "And, don't you worry, you will not regret it. You can bank that." I tried to smile, but my heart was in my throat. I wasn't yet quite overwhelmed by jealousy, but close.

Finished, she leaned back against her vanity, her arms dangling at her sides. She looked, lovingly, at me. "You going to be okay?" she said.

"Yes. Yes, I'll be fine. Anything for you," I said. She looked deeply into my eyes, my soul.

"I am so glad I found you," she said. "I did the right thing marrying you. I aim to make you one happy fella over time, depend on it." Just then the doorbell rang. We both looked doorward.

"Come on, dear, on your feet. We need to go down and meet him together."

I answered the door and she stood behind me a few feet to my right.

"Hi, I'm Michael," said the well-dressed black man.

"Hi, I'm Charlie, this is my wife… " I started.

"Yes, we've met. Hello again, Megan," he said.

"Please, come in," I said.

"Michael," said Megan, "I wanted my husband meet the man who was going to help me cuckold him. And, of course you to meet him too.

"Michael is going to fuck me tonight, dear, like we planned. Tell him it's all right with you, please," she said.

"Michael it's fine with me that you fuck my wife and make me her cuckold," I said.

"And mine," he said.

"Yes, of course," I said. "And your cuckold too."

"You can go now, dear, I will see you in the morning. Okay?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am. In the morning. Uh-9:00AM?"

"That will be fine, dear. Goodbye." She said this last while easing me out the door by the elbow. The door closed behind me, and I was alone and a little afraid. She'd been right not to ask me to stay and witness my cuckolding, my humiliation. I needed to get away, and I did, to The Inferno.

The Inferno had become our favorite watering hole. It was a little pricey, but, this was a special occasion.

******

The Motel 7 on Green St. was only a few miles from the house where Michael was doing my wife. I have to admit to shedding some tears. But they were tears of angst not loss or pain. I was fast discovering that being a cuckold meant worrying endlessly about how one would measure up when compared to one's wife's bulls.

I didn't get much sleep, but I did finally drift off sometimes in the wee smalls. The sun woke me. It was almost 7:00AM. I showered, dressed, and went next door for a cup of coffee. I read the newspaper and killed time until it was time for me to go home. She'd told me that we'd have breakfast together, so I didn't eat.

I was five minutes early. Parking, I sat in my car for a few minutes getting my mental act together. Getting out of my car I made my way into the house.

I could hear her humming in the kitchen. She seemed to be in a light hearted mood.

She was mixing what looked like pancake batter as I came into the kitchen.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi, dear," she said, presenting me with her cheek to kiss. "I haven't brushed my teeth yet, so my breath isn't the best."

"Hmm, I don't care," I said. "I turned her around and kissed her hungrily." She did taste kinda funny. She smiled.

"He's still in me," she said. "We'll talk after we eat. And, I have a little reward for you because you are such a good guy."

"Really?" It was Saturday morning. I wondered if it had anything to do with our 10:00AM appointment. I didn't say anything. Quite frankly, I was hoping she'd forgotten about it. I was just too wound up to be bent over and spanked."

"It'll have to be after your spanking though. Hope you're ready for that. Anyway, it's time for us to eat." She hadn't forgotten. Well, I guess I knew she hadn't."

As we ate, she told me a little of her experience of the previous evening.

"He was pretty good. I'll have him back again at some point. He took my butt too. I let him because he had length but wasn't all that thick. I've pretty much shrunken back to normal size." I guess that was important. I was hoping she meant so that I could have her and feel the walls of her pussy.

It was some half hour later, the dishes done, I was wiping my hands on a small kitchen towel. She looked at me and smirked.

"Honey, please go into the den and take off your pants, okay," she said. "you can leave your shirt and socks on, but I need you butt naked."

"Okay," I said. I think my face was red because I could feel it flush. It would be my first spanking from her. I didn't know, but I had to think it was going to be something to remember.

She'd already placed a heavy oaken chair, I'd not seen before, in the center of the room. I wondered when she purchased it, but in point of fact it didn't really matter. The why was the only thing that mattered. And that why was that it was obviously purchased to facilitate my punishments. There were some strips of quarter inch rope laid across the seat. And, a roll of duct tape as well. I didn't have to guess anymore; it was gonna be bad for me, at least for a little while, real bad. I tried to focus.

I took my pants off and just stood there waiting for her. She was a couple of minutes in coming, and when she did, she was topless. Her breasts, C-cups, hung down slightly and seemed to shake a little as she moved.

"Good, you're ready," she said. She retrieved a strip of the rope and came to me. "Hands behind your back," she said. I did as she told me and felt her bind my wrists very tightly. Then, with the long end of the rope dangling floorward, she took it and raised my arms high up on my back while wrapping the end a couple of times around my neck. There was no way I was going to be able to protect my butt with my hands.

Working quickly she secured my ankles the same way leaving about a six-inch strip between them so I could hobble around a little, or so I surmised, as she might command. Next came the duct tape.

"Sorry about the duct tape, dear, but we can't have you scaring the neighbors with your screams," she said. "Marissa said you can be pretty vocal sometimes."

"It's okay," I said. "She short shanked anything else I might have said by wrapping the tape tightly around my entire head effectively cutting off communication between us.

"Kneel up on the chair," she said, "and bend forward so that you neck is over the back of it." It was a small challenge for me to do it, but I managed.

She took the last of the dangling rope that she'd looped around my neck and tied it to the struts on the bottom of the chair. I was going absolutely nowhere.

"I'm going to give you fifty hard ones, dear. That will be enough for this first time. And, it will give me some idea of what your tolerance is. I don't want to injury you unduly. But, I do want this to be memorable spanking. I mean it is your first spanking at my hands."

I heard her moving around behind me. Walking around the chair so that I could see her, she now had two thin whippy switches, probably dowels, wrapped in black electrical tape. My eyes got big; I could feel them. It was going to sting real bad. She stepped behind me. She waited. It was so quiet. The tension was killing me.

All of a sudden I was seeing stars. The flesh slashing stroke to my buttocks was awful. Then there was another, and another, then another. She waited. I was squirming and snorting and trying my best to take a deep breath, but I couldn't. It was maybe another minute before she resumed. The tears were already pouring from my eyes. She had to have seen them. I was doing my best to move my buttocks to avoid the lash, but it was no use; she was literally burning my butt and the backs of my thighs horribly with each swat. It was almost a half an hour later before it was over.

I'd been counting, but I only accounted for forty-three spanks; Still, I might have lost the correct count somewhere along the line. God knew it was hard for me to concentrate while she was doing me. She pulled a folding chair around in front of me and sat. She stared at me, a slight smile playing across her face.

She was so beautiful. Her naked breasts and face were shiny with a slight sheen of her perspiration. My butt was on fire, but the only thing that mattered to me was that I wanted to suckle on her breasts, her nipples, lick her aureoles. God how I wanted to!

She rose and came to me. She stripped the duct tape from me and I drew a desperately needed lung full of air gasping as I did so. Gasping that is between sobs.

"I'm going to untie you know, Charlie. And, when I do I want you to take the rest of your clothes off. It's time for the good stuff now," she said.

She untied me and led me by my cock into the bedroom.

"I haven't bathed since last night and I have a bunch of Michael's spunk still inside of my pussy and ass. You get to clean me out with your tongue. And, if you do a good job this first time; I will let you have me-in all of my holes. When I reward a man; I reward him big time.

To say the least, my inhibitions whatever they might have been a minute before disappeared immediately!

I fell to my knees in front of her and pulled her pants down. She was laughing so hard I think her sides were beginning to hurt.

I pulled her over to the bed and laid her down across it on her back. I pushed her legs apart and there it was: matted hair, dried spunk, on her inner thighs, and a gooey mess oozing from between her labia. I made a face and dove in. it wasn't so bad. And, all I could think of was my reward. I worked on her for some long minutes when she began to squirt. I just kept at it until she said to stop. Then, she rolled over on her stomach and once again spread her legs wide. There it was her anus. She sure as heck hadn't cleaned herself. There was some of the crusted semen residue and some of her own brown stuff dried in her crack. I licked and sucked and ate her out enthusiastically. Overall, I had worked on her orally, front and back, for maybe half an hour. She experienced or so I thought, hoped, at least three major orgasmic events.

Finally my woman pulled herself up, and spread her knees wide, and waited for me.

"Take me from behind, my husband, please. And don't waste any time doing it." I did what she said, and I think she made it once again. I rolled over and off of her and I fell into a semi-exhausted state beside her. She took a few desperate breaths, swung around on top of me, and took me in her mouth. It took some little while, but she got me hard once again.

"Now, my ass, big boy, take my ass like Michael did." She lay flat on the bed now, legs once again splayed wide and waited for me to assault her. Looking at her little hole, I had the thought that she might need some lubrication.

"Honey, KY… " I started.

"On the night stand over there," she said.

******

That first night, the night she first cuckolded me was good; I hadn't been there; I knew what was going on, and she didn't rub my nose in it the next day. She'd been right to run me off and make me come back the next morning. What I hadn't seen could not be the stuff of my dreams and worries. No, it was very good.

The morning after sex was fantastic. I hadn't expected it, and it was a wonderful gift to me. She had said that my having her would be a rare thing. Well, if that was her idea of rare, I was not going to have a problem going along with it. But, alas, the reality was that allowing me to have her was about to indeed become truly rare. Worse, even being allowed relief was about to become a rare thing.

It was a week and half later before she had another man, and we had not had sex during that entire time. I managed to survive sexually by employing my good right hand, often. She had caught me doing it twice and hadn't said anything to me, but her look had been one of undeniable disapproval.

At any rate, back to tonight and my current cuckolding.

His name was Woodrow, Albert Woodrow. He was youngish, early twenties. He was tall, and he was hung, so Megan had assured me; I didn't ask how she knew. The smirk on his face when she introduced him to me was more than bothersome. But, I bit my lip and endured it. It was part of the scene to be humiliated by her bulls and I knew it. So long as it didn't reach destructive levels-destructive to my marriage to Megan, I could handle it.

"Charlie, I want you to be in the room with us tonight," said Megan. "Would that be okay with you?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

"Good, go on up disrobe and stand by your chair. Okay?" I nodded and headed off. I was standing naked and vulnerable when they came. They were still dressed, but her makeup was smeared and her hair a bit askew.

******

He looked me up and down; the smirk was pure derision. Megan noticed. "Don't be mean, Albert it's what he's got, and it's enough for me. He's my little man and I love him," she said. He words would have made me feel better except for the little man comment; hence, it didn't."

"Yeah, right," he said. They turned their attention away from me and back to each other. The kissing and the feeling up was kind of erotic. My pole was at attention for sure. Soon they broke apart and started to watch each other undress. He kept glancing at my four-inch dick and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

All were soon naked and he turned her around to face me and he wrapped his arms around her from behind and let his hands roam over her breasts, belly, muff and finally her slit. Her head was thrown back over his shoulder and her eyes were closed. He mouthed the words I really didn't need to hear. "There is no way wimpy that you could possibly be satisfying this fine woman. Not with that." he was nodding toward my little man." She stiffened, straightened, and gave him a look that warned him he was going too far. He backed off and led her to the bed. She stopped just before letting him push her down on it and turned to face me.

"You can sit down now, baby, but don't play with yourself. It's not allowed tonight," she said. I swallowed and sat. And, yes, wimp that I realized that I was, I was beginning to cry.

He rolled her over and forced her up on her knees, butt high, legs splayed wide. I saw his eight inch tool push into her. I swallowed yet again.

"Like watching me do your wifey sissy boy," he said. My humiliation was complete. But, I kept my mouth shut.

"I asked you a question," he said.

"Shut up Albert; you can be replaced," said Megan. "I've told you once already. I mean it."

"Okay, okay, I was just funnin'," he said. Suddenly his face went gray as he neared a climax that I think surprised him. He began to fuck her furiously. He stiffened. Spit dribbled from the side of his mouth. I saw Megan's eyes bulge out as he took her. Her rasping breath signaled her orgasm and he drilled her like a madman.

Finally they collapsed. Onto the bed, each beside the other. He rolled on his side and looked at me and smiled. "Are you crying little man. Well, don't, I'll give you lessons if you like. You know so that you can please this woman."

"Get out, Albert, and don't come back. My bulls do not insult or belittle my husband," said Megan.

"Yeah, well with a puny dick like his, a little belittling would seem to be in order," he said.

He dressed and he was gone. Megan beckoned me. "Come on my husband, time for your sloppy seconds. Yes, I'm letting you have me. I wasn't going to, but that asshole made it necessary. In a way you owe him, I guess," she said.

I moved to the bed and crawled onto it looming above her. Do I have to eat you first? I said.

"No, his cum is unworthy of you. Just screw me as best you can with your little weeny," she said. She smiled. My cock was so hard it hurt. She spread her legs as wide as she could and I lowered myself and entered her. I could hardly feel the walls of her pussy, but I did my best. I rammed myself inside of her like what seemed a hundred times before I finally erupted.

"Jesus, honey, you almost made me cum. Jesus, and with that little tool of yours too. Wow!" she said. I felt kind of good. I guess. But, almost wasn't good enough. Not close.

Over the next weeks and months she brought home a succession of bulls. One of them, some guy named Arthur, got into her head. They were lying on the bed after their third fuck. Megan had tied my hands behind my back and lashed my ankles to the chair's legs to keep me from interfering: something I'd tried to do the time before because the bull that time had been so insulting to me that I couldn't take it. I'd gotten up, grabbed him by the hair and hauled him off of her; after which he'd beaten the hell out of me. Hence, my bonds.

Megan had consoled me and nursed me back to full consciousness, and then made the decision that from then on that I'd be bound up tight to prevent me from physically trying to take on these guys, all of who were uniformly large and young.

We were eating breakfast and she was humming some tune I didn't recognize. "Honey, I was talking to Daryl the other day," she said. I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, is he still around?" I said. "You haven't mentioned him in a while."

"No, he's been out of town, but he got in the day before yesterday. He had an idea. I think it's a good one. He said the reason you are having some problems with my bulls is because you're not horny enough to take it. You need to be hornier is what he said," said Megan.

"I'm horny. I am," I said.

"Not enough, Charlie. Not enough to welcome the humiliation and jealousy that makes this kind of relationship go. You need to be climbing the walls. I blame myself to some extent. But…"

"But?" I said.

"Well, Daryl thinks that you are beating your meat before we have our little events," she said. "Are you, Charlie? Are you beating your meat without permission?"

"Well, maybe sometimes," I said. She knew I was lying.

"Charlie?" she said.

"Okay, yes. I need it to not go crazy with lust for you," I said. She nodded knowingly.

"Hmm, well, I'm afraid I'll have to do something about that, Charlie; I need you to be half crazy with lust for me. Charlie, I'm going to lock up your cock, so you can't masturbate. It'll be a little tough on you in the beginning, but you will be more than horny when you need to be from now on. Okay, Charlie?" she said. "And there are one or two other things that Daryl suggested that I'm considering that will heighten the experience, and that for the both of us." I swallowed. I nodded my acceptance. She owned me. I was her cuckold and completely so.

"Okay then. I need you to stand up and drop your pants and underpants," she said. "Oh, and leave your t-shirt on. I did as she instructed. She'd left me standing next to the dinette table while she disappeared into the service porch. She came back in minutes carrying a small box. She set it on the table and went to the broom closet and came back with something I knew only too well: her switch. It was the one she used to spank me with on Saturday mornings. We were four days gone since my last hiding. I was still pretty damn sore. I really didn't want it again, not this soon.

"Honey, are you going to… " I started.

"Just enough to make your penis shrink. Okay. I need to fit the cage on your penis, and I'm afraid you'll be too hard for that to happen; hence, a little encouragement with the switch." I swallowed, and I mean hard. That thin little piece of rattan could do a number on a rhinoceros.

"See what I mean," she said, looking down at my swollen member. "You're erect!"

"But, I could… " I started to say jackoff, but she wasn't having any.

"Bend over the table my little man," she said. "Grab the edges and hold on tight."

I did what she said and gritted my teeth so as to minimize the pain. It wouldn't, of course, minimize anything, but the psychological benefit was undeniable.

The first swat was stunning. It drove the air from my lungs like a punch from a heavyweight boxer. Three stripes later my buns were on fire; I was choking and coughing on my own spit. The fifth one was actually cruel: I almost fainted; but it was the last one. I was crying; I couldn't help it.

"Straighten up, Charlie. And turn around. She was in the process of moving a chair for her to sit on while she put the cage on me. I found myself standing not more than twelve inches from her. She slipped the small silvery tube over my cock and then attached that to two rings, also silver, with which she encircled my balls. A small padlock conjoined the assembly completing my sexual imprisonment. I was frightened. She tugged on the tube and drew a cry of pain from me. There would be no getting out of my cage without the key.

"Honey?" I said.

"You'll be let out on occasion. I don't want you to go crazy either. But, I will be the one dictating the when," she said. "Does it feel okay? I don't want you to actually be hurting from it. It's supposed to be fairly comfortable, at least that's what the advertisement said."

"It's okay, I guess. But, honey, I'm scared. I've never been denied like this. I just don't know if I can make it for any length of time," I said. She smiled.

"Exactly. I need you to be actually desperate on nights when I have a visitor. Okay?" she said.

It was a week later when Daryl reappeared. I hadn't seen him in a while. It was actually a good thing for me. He was one bull that didn't oppress me. I hoped he'd be staying awhile. It'd be a major improvement on the losers Megan and I had been dealing with for the past while.

We visited and talked about nothing and everything. It was nice.

"So, I hear she locked you up," he said. We were on the patio. Megan had gone back inside to get some iced tea for us.

"Yes. It's supposed to keep me ready for her, sessions," I said. "She said it was actually your idea."

"Hmm, yes, among other things. A cuckold has to be ready for anything; I mean in terms of the way he might be treated by this or that bull. Megan told me you actually got into it with one of them, some big guy?" said Daryl.

"Yes. It was not good. He just went way too far deriding me, so I had to do something," I said. "Like I say, me going at him like I did was not good; I mean really not good! Now, she makes sure I can't argue too much with them, the bulls." He nodded his complete understanding.

"Here she comes," I said.

"You boys good?" she said, setting the tray of teas down on the umbrella covered table.

"Yes, more or less getting reacquainted," said Daryl.

"True," I said.

We gabbed for some little time; then, I had to beg off. "You guys visit for a while. I have to get some yard work done," I said. "Life isn't just sex only." The two of them laughed, and I headed off.

I did the front yard first; it's always the easiest. When I did finally get to the backyard they'd gone inside. I knew it wasn't for sex, or I would have been invited. I smiled; well, the guy was as close to a good friend that the two of us had among those who knew our propensities.

I was pulling weeds outside of the kitchen window, and I heard them talking.

"So how are you two getting along then, really," said Daryl. I could actually hear her sigh.

"Okay," she said. But, there was no enthusiasm in her statement.

"Really? I hear a but in there someplace," he said.

"Yes, well, I got what I paid for. He's a wimp right enough. I mean a total big assed, down and dirty, you better believe it candyass," she said. "But, he's virtually worthless in bed. And, really there isn't even any 'virtually' in the mix either if it comes to that. He's not even trainable; I've tried. I mean I do have my bulls; but it would be nice if I could get it on with my husband once in a great while and not come away feeling cheated. After the last experience we had with a bull, kind of a bad one: the way he kept downing Charlie; I had to send the guy on his way, and let Charlie have me as kind of a sop for putting up with the asshole as long as he did. I even faked a semi-orgasm for him; you know, to make him feel a little less down."

"Well, if you feel that way, why do you stay with him? I mean there's the standard of living and everything he brings to the table; but, is that enough for you to stay with him?" said Daryl. There was that sigh again.

"Yes, I guess so. He's all right when it comes to most things, but apart from his serious lack of bedroom skills; he's boring. Jesus is my husband boring. I mean he's a college professor and everything, but you'd think he'd care about something other than that stuff he's always plying his students with."

"Boy oh boy do I hear a disaster coming if you feel this strongly now," said Daryl.

I was sick. I had to get out of there. This wasn't a scene we were playing; this was how she really felt about me, about us. She didn't know it yet, but we were already done, she and I.

I snuck into the house and upstairs. I was able to pack enough stuff to carry me for a while. I'd have her served as soon as I could. I wasn't one for hanging on to that which was already gone. I'd miss her on some level but my love for her was dead.

I was almost out the door when she caught me. "Charlie?" she said. She eye'd me suspiciously. Daryl was still in the kitchen doing something; I could hear him.

"I won't be boring you anymore, Megan. I'll put everything in motion. Goodbye," I turned to go, but she grabbed my arm.

"Oh my god, you heard us talking didn't you!" she said. I just looked at her without responding. "Jesus, how that must have stung you; I mean what I said."

"It's okay. I know I'm not much. We had a run, a fantasy, but I guess like all fantasies, it was never really real," I said. "I mean when it gets to the point where it's actually boring; well, it's time to change up."

"Charlie, I don't know what to say. It was never you; it was me. If you'd be willing to stay, well, I'd be willing to try and make it up to you," she said.

"I'm sure you would, Megan. But, making it up to me isn't what this is about. What it's about is your belief that I can never be any good; which of course equates with me not ever being able to make you happy. Megan, I'm not willing to be just another sucker who pays the bills and occasionally gets to have his cock sucked. I really really am not into mercy sex. If I'm as worthless as you say; well, that pretty much says it all."

"Okay, Charlie. I just hope you and I don't become enemies over this. I do like you, really," she said. I snickered.

"Not love? I guess you never did, and, I guess you never could. Kinda puts the boff on this relationship, doesn't it, I mean any relationship." I turned and walked out.

I heard Daryl call to her from the kitchen, just as the door closed behind me.

******

MEGAN:

I watched him walk out. I was torn. I really did like the guy and hated to lose him, and no it wasn't all about his income or social contacts or any of that. It was, well, it was complicated.

I needed a husband who was, well, wimpy. I needed a man who adored me and who understood my needs. I needed a man, yes, who could afford me. And, Charlie fit all those criteria to a T. What I did not need Charlie for was sex. I could have all I wanted from men who knew what they were doing. Charlie, when it came to sex, was like the man, or boy, with two left feet on the dance floor. But, in Charlie's case it was two left feet and a sprained ankle. He liked the one particular sexual niche, the spankings and the humiliation; I could give him that, and gladly; but, he was all but incapable of reciprocating. He just didn't have it in him.

What I'd said to Daryl, and it was for his ears only, was true. But, Charlie had heard me. And, now he hated me. Get him back? That would be an almost hopeless task. Still, men were strange creatures. Stranger than we women in spite of all of the mythology to the contrary. There was always the very real hope that after a time crying in his beer and basking in his misery, that he would call or show up on my doorstep hat in hand. If he did, I would be very careful of his feelings and his pride and for a time at least, he would be one pampered sexual animal. Well at any rate, hope springs eternal.

******

I sat there on the barstool crying in my beer, or so the saying goes. She undoubtedly thought that I would be coming back before my shoes would need polishing. Well, she was going to be majorly disappointed. If I meant so little to her, as apparently was the case, I wasn't going to stick around just to be used. Stupid I no doubt was, but I sure as hell wasn't that stupid.

"Last call guy. If you want anything… " said the barkeep.

I looked over toward the cash register where the LCD display showed it to be almost 2:00AM. I was walking so I wasn't in any danger of getting busted. Well, I hoped that that would be the case.

It'd been a bit over two months since I walked out. I'd gotten no calls from her, not even an email telling me to get lost or hurry up and die or any of it; let alone asking me to come back. So, that settled it as far as I was concerned. It was clear that she really didn't give a damn whether I lived or died. I'd quite clearly outlived my usefulness. I smirked, only to myself, but it was a meaningful smirk. Mister micro-dick loser, me, was finally getting on with things. I kinda felt good about that, in a loser sort of way.

As I trudged home, I looked up at the sign looming in front of me. The Happy Traveler Motor Lodge. I saw a couple, a man, fiftyish and a young woman, maybe old enough to drink if she had a note from her mother, keying a door to one of the rooms off the courtyard. I almost wished it was me. I damn sure needed a little relief. I hadn't gone back even to see Marissa: I was afraid I would run into my wife. I figured that she would at the least have gone back there if only to pay the bills since I wasn't paying them anymore. I was horny as hell.

******

"I don't know Daryl. I'm what, lonely. I need the guy around. I, I think that I love him," she said. "Yuh know, I don't think I really did at first. But, living with him, realizing how hard he tried to please me, more, realizing how hard he tried to understand me, not an easy deal; well, the guy's a treasure. I have to get him back if I can."

"Then go after him. You can get him back. Hell, you can get any man you want to do anything you want him to," he said.

"Hah! I could only hope to wish that you knew what you were talking about, Daryl," she said.

"Go see him. He's still working at the college. He won't be hard to find. Catch him at lunch or something. You can do it," he said. She nodded.

"Yes. You're right. I can do that. I just hope he'll sit still long enough for me to make my pitch. He was pretty non-communicative when he cut out on me. Frankly, I really thought he'd be back. In my heart of hearts I was sure he was pussywhipped enough to beg me. But clearly, I hurt him bad enough to actually ruin what we had, what I thought we had," she said.

"Like I said, stop yakking about it, and just go get him," said Daryl.

"Okay. I will. I'll try," I said.

"Good," said, Daryl.

******

I was in the instructors' line waiting to get my coffee and sweet role," when I saw her, and she did look good; she was talking to professor Macklin, who I knew had been her pre-Calc teacher a couple of semesters back; she'd mentioned him. I wondered if she was putting a move on him, or if she were here for what I was pretty sure was the other possible reason: to see me.

Did I want to talk to her? Of course I did. I needed to talk to her, but I also knew where I really stood with her. As far as she was concerned I was nothing more than a meal ticket.

Coffee and roll secured I headed for the back of the caf hoping not to be seen. But, of course, deep down, I knew that that was a foolish hope. She loomed over my shoulder; I sensed her more than saw her.

"Whaddya want Megan? This is where I work. I really don't need any of this today," I said. I was being, for me, surprisingly strong.

"Hi Charlie. I was here to get some stuff from records. And… " she started.

"What are you really here for, Megan?" I said. I knew, and she knew I knew, that there was damn little chance that she was there to get records; and, even if such were true, why would she make a stop in the caf where she knew I'd be grabbing my morning coffee. No, I knew why she was here, and it had nothing to do with records.

"Okay, it's true, Charlie, I'm here to see you," she said, wistfully. Well, being right had its upsides, right?

"And why would you want to do that knowing as we do what you think of me," I said.

"Whew," she said, tendering me a half smile. "Well that's the whole shemoyghan, isn't it" she said. "The answer Charlie is not simple. But, if you can cut me a little slack here, I might be able to sell you on, well, what I think will be a reason for you to come home to me.

"Really? You think that something, anything, you can say will undo what I heard that day?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Hmm, you are definitely a glass half-fuller," I said.

I was torn. Should I listen to her spiel or get the hell out of dodge. I couldn't deny the two things that took hold of me right at that moment: one, I was curious; and two, she looked like a million bucks!

"Okay, I'm curious. Lay it on me, but I warn you; yours is very likely the impossible dream," I said. She nodded and took a seat across from me.

"Charlie, first let me say that I am sorry if I hurt you that day," she said.

"If you hurt me? Are you serious!" I said, not quite believing my ears.

"Okay, that I hurt you," she said. "I did tell it like it was, I mean to Daryl. No, that's not right. I told it like it like I thought it was, at the time."

"Okay, so far my heart is still in ruins. So?" I said.

"Charlie, you are trainable. I know what I said. But, what I should've said was that you, and that's you not me, were just so busy all of the time that training you was a non-happening. What was true, was that you aren't much of a bed partner, but again; if I had the time to do it right, I know I could train you," she said.

"Okay, maybe I could buy that. I am busy all of the time. That's true. And, I have always been a fast learner. Yeah, I can buy that I am trainable. But… " I said.

"The stuff about you being boring, right?" she said.

"Yes. And, that is something that I do not accept, and will not allow you or anyone else to accuse me of. The things I say, the way I act are those ways that I have long nurtured and prefer to other modalities of behavior. So, yes, you considering me irredeemably boring is a major sticking point for me," I said.

"Well, and you're right. It's just that I'm boring too; I mean to someone like you. Doctor Charles Wilson, you are so far beyond me intellectually that you are hard to understand sometimes. You don't talk like other people. But, that's the deal I want to make here. I will do my best to train you in my specialty; and you, well you can maybe train me in the ways that you're an expert in," she said. "Whaddya think."

"I think you have come up with a solution with too many holes to be filled. I am not skilled enough in Psychology to get you to where you wouldn't think me boring. So, no, Megan. It won't work," I said. "Goodbye." I rose and walked out. She didn't try to stop me.

******

I was going to miss her. I'd shut her down pretty hard. Our sex, the games, were somehow lost in the conversations we'd had, both on the day of our breakup and the one I had just walked away from. Megan Wilson was history. I got on with my life.

I was thinking about finding another dungeon-like place like the one I used to frequent, the one where Marissa worked. Just a place to feed my fetish. Yeah, I knew I had one. I couldn't go back to the old place: too great a chance I'd be running into Megan. I knew if I saw her too often that I would succumb. No, I had to stay away from her at all events.

******

I was at home nursing a manhattan I'd made for myself. It was almost 10:00PM. I remembered the old commercial, "It's Miller Time." Well, I had my own version, "It's Mellow Time." Well, I wasn't much of a beer drinker, too bloating. The doorbell startled me. I went to answer it.

"Daryl! What the fuck!" I said, being uncharacteristically crude. But, in my defense, he had to have been the last person in the entire world that I would have expected to see, especially at ten o'clock at night. But here he indeed was, and smiling like he knew something that I was not privy to.

"Can I come in?" he said. I stared. "Please." I stood aside indicating that he should come in. Well, I liked the guy.

"Don't get comfortable," I said. "I can't think of any reason why you and I should be talking at all let alone anything of length or importance.

"I understand," he said. "But actually this, my being here, may be of some interest to you; and I'd add importance as well; but well, you can be the judge of that." I nodded.

"You need to rethink your relationship with Megan," he said. "She misses you big time, and before you ask, no, she didn't send me here, and she doesn't know anything about me being here."

"Okay, since you've laid out your premise, go ahead extrapolate it," I said. He laughed.

"What is that classroom-ese you're talking?" he said.

"What do you want, Daryl? I was in the midst of a very nice kick-back evening until you shattered it with that damn doorbell," I said.

"To quote the great one: 'She wants you, she needs you, she loves you'," he said.

"Really? I mean me? Mister boring, no damn good in bed, pretty much useless in general but good provider: I mean me?"

"Yes you," he said. "Look, she was feeling down that day and a little, what, frustrated with herself. She really believes, sometimes that what she thinks and wants is always correct. Fact is she's right maybe half the time. She really didn't mean a word of it the way it came out, and believe me; she 'thinks' she did mean it, and that pseudo truth is killing her. The truth is she doesn't and didn't mean it, and she is going nuts trying to put it back together. That day she just let loose a flurry of feeling without using her head; she does that sometimes: well, she is a woman. You gotta come back and hug her and lead her to an understanding that what you two had and have if worth saving. And I'm not talking about the sex stuff; that's just the icing on the cake. I'm talking about the commitment the two of you have toward each other as people and partners."

"And, you expect me to believe that this isn't just another ploy to get me to go back and be the bill payer," I said.

"Look, Charlie, when you hug her and kiss her; I mean if you go back, don't you think that a smart guy like you will be able to tell if she's scamming you? She's a good actress, I'll vouch for that, but not that good. There is no way, she'll be able to fake her feelings, her true feelings, with you paying attention; and you will be," he said. He had me there.

What if she really did love me? What if she had really been merely frustrated because of my long hours and consequent inability to learn. That bothered me. I'd never had a problem learning anything. But how to love and serve and respond to a woman like Megan and the games we played? Anyway, did I dare take the chance?

"Have a seat," I said, finally agreeing to have him stay for a while. Two hours, and three manhattans each later, I'd made a decision.

******

I stood there in the doorway waiting for her to say something.

"Charlie?" she said. She was tentative, but she stood aside for me to enter. "Charlie? What can I do for you? I mean…"

I went to her and hugged her, just as Daryl had suggested. She hugged me back, though not with much enthusiasm. I took a half step back and looked her in the eyes. I slowly, very slowly leaned in as if to kiss her. Initially, she kind of leaned back from me, but then, she seemed to rethink herself, and our lips met.

"I want to come back," I said. "I mean if…"

"Charlie… " I interrupted her to hand her the small styro bag I was carrying. She looked at, and slowly took it from me. She opened it. She smiled. "Okay," she said. She smiled. She took the collar out of the bag and fastened around my neck attaching to it the companion leash. I was back. We were back.

"I love you Megan. And, I am here to be trained and punished," I said.

"And, you shall be," she said. And, now her smile was a mile wide.

The sex that night was mythical in its wonderfulness. The next day was a totally different kettle of fish. I found myself with my pants down around my ankles and bent over the back of the living room couch. Her panties were stuffed in my mouth to muffle my screams. I squirmed as I never had, even with the pro Marissa. I gasped and coughed and gagged into my panty gag for most of the whipping, which whipping was accomplished with the switch. Jesus it stung. It stung like never before.

But, my punishment accomplished, she comforted me.

"We going to be okay now, Charlie?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "Yes, I'm sure of it." Her smile was reward enough, but another night of fucking and sucking put the period on the sentence of our reconciliation.

*******

His name was Herman Pierson. I was strapped into my chair as he pulled her to him.

The man was black and tall and muscular and actually kind of a pretty boy. He sent a glance my way, and kind of half smirked; all of them did that; kinda saying without words what they thought of me, letting my wife be taken by him, them. I had to look away. It was noteworthy that Megan did not look my way, not yet. But, that said, I wasn't sure that I wanted her to.

He began to feel her up and kiss her, and then he let the strap on her sundress fall from her right shoulder, then the other one. Then, he peeled her dress down to her waist and massaged her still bra covered breasts.

"Nice," he said. "And your bra hooks in the front."

"All the better for you to ravish them, you big bad wolf you," she said. He laughed, unhooked her, and her tits fell free. He felt her up and then leaned down and began suckling. I saw her wince a couple of times as he got a little too rough with her.

"She finally looked my way and came to me, leaving her lover to watch. She put her arms on the edge of the chair and leaned forward bringing her face within inches of mine.

"Enjoying the show, cucky? It's for you as much as for me. Mister Pierson is going to take me from behind while I lean here on the arms of the chair. I want you to watch my face as he impales me on his cock, his big fat cock." She leaned in a little further and kissed me.

"I want you to enjoy this, Charlie. It's our first in a long time, and I hope the first of many more," she said. I nodded. I didn't trust my voice.

He came up behind her, and I watched as he used his fingers to open her a little. Then, using his hand, he guided himself into her, She grunted.

"God, cucky, he's big. I am stretched to the limit. Ugh! Her face took on a kind of stunned look as he drilled her repeatedly. Dribble slid from her mouth down the side of her cheek dripping onto my leg. Ugh!"

I saw him stiffen, as he loaded her vagina with his sperm. He leaned over her back and rested on it for some little time.

His cock slid out of her. They straightened up, and she led him by his now flaccid member back to the bed.

"Sit down on the edge of the bed, Herman," she said. He did. "Now, lay back and spread your legs for me."

She knelt between his legs; then, taking his cock in her hands, she began to suck him back to libidinous life. I saw him jerking and spasming as she teased his now tender penis. She got him standing tall in less than five minutes.

She joined him on the bed and spread herself to accommodate him missionary style. He took her rocking her world and making her scream for more. It took him maybe ten minutes to get himself off. He rolled off of her gasping for breath.

She got up from the bed and came to me. "You know what I need you to do now don't you my little cuckold," she said.

"Yes ma'am," I said. She nodded and unstrapped me from the chair. I had been fully dressed until now. But, now she pulled me to my feet and squatting down, she pulled my pants down, then my underwear, exposing my miniature cock for her lover to view.

"Herman, please sit on the edge of the bed again, please," she said. Now, it was me kneeling between her studs legs. Megan knelt beside me. She pulled on his cock a couple of times while watching me with a big smile on her face.

She stretched it toward me a little and stared at me. "Time to do your duty, cucky," she said. "Suck my lover's dick. Get it all nice and hard for me once more. Okay?"

I leaned forward and let her guide his still soft penis to my lips and then inside my mouth. I had to suck for some minutes to get him up, but I finally did.

Megan slid up onto the bed and got on all fours. "Take my ass, Herman. I need you to take my ass, so my husband can see what a real man can do for a woman," she said.

After using some KY to moisten her orifice, he slid into her upraised butt and screwed her slowly for some time before erupting inside of her for the third and final time.

I was told to go kneel with my face in the corner while she showed her lover of the evening out. It had been quite a first night back in the saddle, as she would refer to it.

******

Breakfast was quiet. Eggs and bacon on the patio. We were, at first, both lost in our own separate worlds.

"Was it good for you, cucky?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "Pretty good."

"I'm glad. We'll go slow, but we will be getting back into the groove before long. We just have to be careful, and I do mean for the both of us," she said.

"Yes, I agree. But, if the next ones are like this Herman fellow; well, we should be fine," I said.

The future looked promising.

-----------------------------

   Series:Conrad and Pamela Winston
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:If they swing, can they survive as a couple?
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/74605/conrad-and-pamela-winston
Published:2013-07-30
"He's a good guy, Conrad. He's no threat to us, and he's nobody gonna be spreading any bad stuff about us out there either. Okay?" she said.

"No, it's not okay. You're either his or you're mine. Which is it going to be, Pamela. There is no in between. Call him now tell him he's history or I am. History that is," I said.

I'm Conrad Winston. Age thirty-eight. I'm a building contractor, mostly commercial stuff. Pay's good, 200K annual on average.

Pamela my wife is twenty-eight, average looking, slim, and kind a tall; but, she is young and she is sexy. I won the lottery getting her to marry me; for her part she won my income and security. Seemed like a fair trade to me at the time. That said.

Now she wants to sweeten the pot-her half of it-by having a lover. His name is Ron Pollard. Tall, slim, good looking, got a little money as I've been able to find out, but it's mostly tied up in houses he can't sell for what he paid for them, so it's problematical. Oh, and he's thirty-two! Chance I'll go along with her doing him? Really really slight!

"Conrad, lighten up, okay. Me doing him is just for the variety. I don't 'need' him and you don't need to worry about him. If you were able to get it up more than you do now; well, I wouldn't even need the guy," she said.

"So you're doing him because I don't satisfy you, not just because you want variety," I said.

"Both, sort of, okay. I mean variety yes. And, it isn't that you don't satisfy me, I mean not exactly. You do when you do me, but you're limited. All men are limited. When you run out of spunk, you're done. And, usually I need more. A woman doesn't have those kinds of limitations," she said. "Am I getting through to you?"

"I don't like it, and I'm not going to be putting up with it," I said. "You wanna be a whore. I'm gone. Got it?" She sighed.

"Jesus, I never should have told you," she said. "But-I just didn't want to be keeping things from you anymore. It would have been far more hurtful for you if you'd caught me. I know it. I know the male ego.

"Yeah, well it is kinda hard to argue with you on that one. But, that said-fuck you!" I turned and headed out.

I was talking Humphrey Bogart, but inside I was Don Knots. My stomach was roiling, my heart was beating an irregular staccato, and I was praying to all the gods at once that my staunch position on the matter would get her to stop her cheating on me. But, even then, could I forgive the cheating cunt! Hell if I knew-yet.

When I left I had determined to stay out and away from her until she made up her mind one way or the other. At any rate that's what I was telling myself. The Horseshoe Inn was close to work and cheap. I had a small bag of clothes with me and a few other necessaries. I could hold out for a short time.

The morning after our discussion found me antsy and alone and lonely and wringing my hands. I needed her. Hell, she needed me too. I knew that this boyfriend of hers was a player. I had to think that she did too. She just couldn't believe that she wasn't his one and only. Hell, he had a reputation for dropping women, when he was done with them, like hot rocks.

I thought it telling that she so far hadn't called me. But, then she did. I was eating breakfast at the café across the street from the Horseshoe. My phone was on vibrate; it buzzed. I looked, sure enough it was her. I answered it.

"I'm eating Pam, whaddya want?' I said, that in my most sardonic tone.

"Conrad, please come home. I need you. Okay? Please?" she said.

"You dumping shit head?" I said, silence on the other end of the line.

"Conrad, please, come home. We'll talk. If I can't convince you to lighten up about him, I will break it off with him. How's that?" she said. Now, I had gone silent. She couldn't convince me, so according to her; I would be getting my way: she'd be dumping the asshole.

"How do I know you'll keep your word. I mean you know damn well, I'm not going to knuckle under to letting you fuck another man," I said.

"Maybe, but At least give me a decent chance to convince you. Okay?" she said.

"A decent chance to convince me that it's okay for you to be indecent with him? That about it?" I said.

"Conrad!" she said.

"Okay, Pam, I'll be there tomorrow. Tomorrow's Sunday. I'll be there around 10am. You be there, or I'm history, and you'll be talking to me through my lawyer. We understand each other?" I said.

"Yes, okay," she said. "And thank you. I know it seems a little weird to you now. I understand that, but it's not the bad thing you think it is, really."

"Tomorrow, at 10am." I hung up.

She sat by the phone and stared at it. She picked up the receiver and dialed. It was answered on the second ring.

"Yes, it's me… Come over… No, he ran out on me. But, he's coming over tomorrow to talk… Yes, yes. You and I need to talk strategy. I can't lose him… He's my meal ticket… Just come over… Yes, right now… Yes, we need to plan… Okay, you too." She hung up.

Her legs were draped over his shoulders as he pounded into her. His arms were wrapped tightly around her arms and torso; she had no control as she fucked her, and she loved it. Submitting to this man was fantastic. Now, all she had to do was convince her stupid husband that it was going to be a good thing for him too. He, her hubby was going to be getting twice the sex he ever had from her, and maybe some agreed to extra-curricular pussy as well. She had to work it out with the man fucking her at that moment, but she had an idea.

He stiffened, shuddered, and unloaded a sea of cum inside of her; she felt its heat, and she smiled. She just couldn't give him up. "Jesus that was good," she said. She'd made it twice. With her hubby? She made it maybe twice a year; there was no comparison. Conrad Winston was tops in a lot of ways but none of them had anything whatsoever to do with sex.

"Glad I could accommodate yuh," he said. He had rolled off of her and was breathing heavily. The two of them lay still for some moments.

"We have to talk," she said. "Let's shower and go downstairs. We'll grab a bite and figure out what I'm gonna do. I need your help here, Ronald. Okay?"

"Yes, yes, like I said yesterday. I'll do what I can, but I sure as hell can't think of how you're going to get him to come around. He ain't stupid as you keep saying he is. He's just pussywhipped. But, he won't remain PW if he thinks you're shining him on. I know I wouldn't," he said.

"Yeah well maybe. But, I have a plan, and if I can get it to come together, we'll all be getting everything we want and then some, including my stupid husband," she said, and she laughed.

I don' know why you don't just divorce him; I mean if your opinion of him is that low," he said.

"Because I need him," she said.

"No, you don't. You make enough. Your business is taking off; soon you'll be making as much as he is," he said.

"Ronald, Ronald, Ronald you don't get it. The reason Winston Interiors is doing well is because Conrad's contacts keep sending me well-heeled clients. If he divorces me, that would end. I'd be lucky to make half what I am now. No, I have to keep him around, on a short leash, but I have to keep him," she said. He smiled.

"Okay, count me in. What did you have in mind?" he said.

I looked up at the clock; it read 9:30. I was still sitting in a booth at the Horseshoe. Had been since 8:00AM. I'd eaten breakfast, which was actually pretty good for a twenty-four hour bar and grill, of course it was only a bar from noon to 2:00AM, but food and coffee was available anytime, very convenient. I threw a twenty on the table, signaled Eve, and headed out.

I pulled up in front of the house four minutes early. I saw the front room curtain drop; she was anxious. Good, I thought. Maybe she'd had an epiphany of sorts. Well, one could hope.

I knocked. The door opened, and a slightly irked Pamela smirked at my gesture. "And you knocked why?" said Pamela.

"Doesn't feel like my home anymore," I said. "You wanted this sit down; are you gonna ask me in?" I said. My sarcasm was but barely veiled.

"Why yes, Mr. Winston, do come in won't you," she said, false formality fairly dripping from her tongue.

I could tell from her look that these opening gambits were not rolling out quite as she'd expected. As for me, I was more than satisfied that they were. I needed for her to be off balance. Whatever she'd prepared for me had to fail if I was going to get my wife back; that is, the wife I used to think I had.

She'd already poured the drinks-whiskey at freakin' ten in the morning! Well, it was five o'clock somewhere. We sat at the dinette and sipped.

"Well?" I said. She sighed, gathered herself and shook her head slowly.

"Conrad, Conrad, Conrad I don't know what to do about you. You are so fucking wrong about me and us and Ronald and all of it. That said, I know that I am in tough here trying to get you to lighten up. But, anyway, here goes my pitch.

"I've done you wrong. I was selfish and stupid and crazy all at the same time. That I love you never doubt. That I can do with just your cock only; well, that would be real hard for me," she said.

"Evidently," I said. "So where does that leave us?"

"It leaves us, me, ready to make things right by you. To be fair. To tender you an offer you will find damn hard to refuse. At least-well-I hope so," she said.

"An offer?" I said.

"Yes, like I said, I've been selfish. That will no longer be the case. From now on it will be the both of us getting it on. That's the both of us without guilt, without a lot of stupid questions, and equal in all respects," she said.

"I'm not following you," I said.

"You have my full permission to play on the side too. I only want the same thing you have a right to require of me," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"You have to promise me that you will not become emotionally involved with any of the fluff that you take to bed. Play all you want, but always come home to me. There will be no questions from me, no sidelong jealous glances from me, no unreasonable demands from me, none of it-ever!" she said.

"What the…"

"And again, of course the reverse will be so. I promise that I will never become emotionally involved with Pollard or any other man ever. You, for your part, will not question me, do the jealousy thing, make demands…"

"What the fuck are you talking about. I don't want to fuck anybody else. I only want you! Are you getting this? Now, do you have anything else to say," I said.

She deflated. "No," she said.

"Are you going to honor your promise?" I said.

"Can't I even hope to get you to think about my offer?" she said. "Maybe on a trial basis?"

"Trial basis? What the hell is that?" I said.

"We both date. You go your way to your favorite bar or church bazaar or business soiree, whatever; and I do the same. After a month's time, if it's worked out as I'm certain that it would, because you are a hunk and lots of girls are gonna want to be with you; then, we sit down and make up our minds how we will proceed from there on out," she said. I sat there staring at her. Stunned? I think I was.

"No can't do it," I said.

"One last try. I will stop seeing Pollard while you think over what I said, I mean my offer. And, if having thought about it, you still feel the same way; then, Ronald Pollard will be history permanently. Is that fair enough?" she said.

"Let me get this straight. You'll stop seeing him, but you're asking that for the time being I am to think over what you said-offered? That about it?" I said.

"Yes," she said. Well, she was being fair, at least in her mind. And, the Pollard thing would be at an end as of that moment. I nodded.

"Okay, I can go that far, but I can tell you right now; I'm not gonna be changing my mind. I don't need any pussy but yours. And this-what is it-swinging thing is not my cup of tea. Oh, and one other thing. Not only Pollard, but no other man either; that is what you mean to say-right?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

I moved back in the following morning. I suppose that I had to give her that she was trying to find a way to be fair to me, twisted logic or not, even though I adamantly did not want any part of what she was selling. And think over her proposition? Not real seriously, but I would keep to the letter if not the spirit of my word.

At work I had jobs that were ongoing, but my subs were taking care of things okay for the moment. I just had to tour the three contracts once day, usually in the afternoon, to make sure that things kept progressing as they should. After that I'd be going back to my office and make calls or call backs as the day dictated.

Pamela had meetings during the morning hours and that almost every day. She was busy. I knew she was doing well, and that mainly because of me. I had to think, given all that had gone down, that her strenuous attempts to get me back were related to those salient facts. If I pulled out, she would be left without three-fourths of her leads, and, they were first class leads.

Things were cool for the first few days I was back. We ate. We did work around the house. We even went to a movie on Friday night.

Returning home after the movie, I got the look. Well, okay, I was horny, she was horny; so what the hell.

"Let's make it easy on ourselves, tonight," I said, "and let's go to bed naked. Whaddya say."

"Good idea. It'll save time," she said. "Besides, I've been deprived these past few nights and you need to make sure you do me good. Got it mister?"

"Got it," I said.

We kinda wrestled for a few minutes as we rolled on top of the covers trying out what some might have described as imaginative foreplay. I was finally able to force her onto her belly and I took her from behind. Unloading my spunk, I rolled off of her and she rolled on to me and began kissing me. A first gently, then rudely, then gently again. God how I loved making out; it was the best as far as I was concerned.

Spit dribbled from both of our mouths. We stunk of sweat and drying spit and sex and I loved it. I think she did too, but I was still suspicious of her motives and her sincerity. But, if she was being phony, she was one helluva an actress. We slept.

The following days and weeks were good ones; well, she was on a mission. We were nearing the end of our thirty day window of decision. The dishes were done. The past five days especially had been a period of frenetic sexual adventure. We were seated in the living room. The kitchen was clean; we each had a glass of burgundy in front of us.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Conrad?" she said.

"Same as you, I guess," I said. "It's nigh on decision time." She nodded.

"Any hope?" she said.

"For you or for me?" I countered.

She shrugged. "The both of us I guess. For me?" she said.

"This-what-open marriage thing. I have a question?

"You plan on stickin' with Pollard exclusively if I say it's a go?" I said. I'd caught her flat footed," I said.

"Uh-no-I mean not necessarily," she said. She'd caught my meaning. If she said yes, that would be very close to one of the no-nos on her own list: no emotional attachments. A single long term lover equated very closely with an emotional attachment. Several lovers would likely indicate no emotional attachment whatsoever. Several would create a host of other problems, but not emotional entanglement.

"No necessarily?" I said.

"I mean, for now, he and I would be doing it, but he isn't a forever lover, just a temporary one, if the only one for the moment," she said. I nodded.

"I see," I said.

"Let me ask you a question. If you do accept my proposal, are you going to be going out too? I mean I want you too. I'm afraid that if you don't, well…"

"Not sure. I don't have any plans that way as of the moment. In the future? I don't know, not yet," I said. She nodded.

"Conrad, no matter what, our sex life will remain as active as it has been here these last weeks. Okay?" she said. My turn to nod. I had no doubt that what she was saying was a true thing. She didn't dare let me down. But, that said…

I knew that she was the draw, not me. Women would not be flocking to my tent. Hell, I'd be lucky to find me a couple of ladies who'd grant me mercy just because I looked so forlorn. Oh, there would be those that I could entice with my income, plenty of them, but otherwise? Not real likely.

We talked a little longer. Finally, having gotten up to refill my wine glass, I sagged against the door jamb. "Okay," I said. "No guarantees how long I'll be able to handle it, you being fucked by him, but I will put up with it for the short term."

She rushed into my arms and almost killed me with her enthusiasm. The sex that night almost most made me wish that the asshole was on hand to help me out. And, add to that that I was almost certain that that was exactly the reaction from me that she was hoping for.

She didn't immediately avail herself of her opportunity. I think she wanted me to go first, make it easy on her. I didn't. It was exactly seven days later, a Friday night, that she announced that she would be going out. I nodded, and headed for den to get some serious sports watching in. Well, I had to kill time some way or other while she was out fucking him, making me a cuckold, a knowing cuckold.

She took two hours plus getting ready for him. I had to wonder if she realized how humiliating it was for me to wait while she did that; and, to watch her go to such lengths for a man I viscerally hated-and feared. I guessed not.

She came downstairs dressed to the nines. I couldn't remember her looking so beautiful. Short red dress, tawny locks in set in billowing curls, understated jewelry, makeup perfect, and the smell of her: God she was wonderful.

"How do I look?" she said, smiling like an angel. I stared at her without saying anything at first. Then I did.

"You never dressed like that for me," I said, my voice a wimpy whisper. "Oh, and you look positively stunning."

"Now, Conrad, I have so dressed nice for you. But now, you need to get up there and get yourself all cleaned up and dressed too. You need to go out and have some fun. I mean it now. It'll be an adventure for you. Come on; lighten up. Okay?" she said. I returned to watching the game. And, yes, I was pouting, so fucking shoot me. My stomach was roiling. I got up and went over to the mini-bar to get a glass of water.

When I turned around she had her purse over her shoulder. "Conrad, really, go out, okay?" she said.

"No," I said. And like the wimp I was I started to cry, silently but the tears were coming. They were tears of frustration.

"Are you actually crying!" she said, without so much as a shred of empathy.

"We're going to have to get a divorce," I said. "No rancor, no hate or any of that, just get it done and you can have your big cock, and I won't have to see you all dolled up for my adversary while I sit here watching a fucking basketball game and wait for you to come home. Yes, a divorce. That's the ticket." I was talking, but mostly to myself; I wasn't looking at her; I didn't have the balls.

"That would not be good, Conrad; not for you, not for me, not for anyone. I won't stand for it," she said. "I need you and you need me." She came to me. I was standing with my back to her sipping my water.

"Look, I promise not to be too late. When I come home, you and I will do some playing of our own. How's that?" she said. "I promise to make it up to you."

Now my stomach broke into in open revolt. She'd come close to me, now with empathy-phony or not-to comfort me, get me to feel a little less put upon. Then it happened.

She put her arms around me, and turned me around to face her. I couldn't help it. I vomited all over her, her dress, the floor, and it kept coming. She jumped back, tripping in her high heels, swearing like a drunken sailor.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck!" she screamed. "What kind of miserable wimp are you. Look what you've done!"

"I-I couldn't help…"

"Clean it up you wimpy little shit, and if you're man enough to actually go out, make sure you're home before midnight.

"Fuck!" she screamed again.

I watched, sick to my stomach, as she went upstairs to clean up and change.

It took her another forty minutes for her to repair the damage. She came down, still angry, and shot me a glance that was not real friendly. She stormed out without another word said to me.

I was humiliated, but I was also angry. There was no fixing this one. I had to leave, and I had to do it now. I cleaned myself up a little, but not the floor or anything else. I'd shower later; I had an idea.

She had at least a thousand dollars' worth of cosmetics and women's stuff on her vanity. I pulled the bathroom clothes hamper, and it was nearly full, out next to the vanity. Her red dress was in the sink, rinsed, but not yet cleaned of course.

I dumped all of her dirty clothes-which included some of her delicates on the bed, our bed. Then, I went into the closet and pulled all of her clothes out of that and added them to the pile. Next I got her expensive underwear out of the dresser and added them to the mix. I smiled.

Going back to the dresser I got every kind of spray and liquid I could find. I doused the pile flipping the clothes to get at the stuff underneath as I did so. Then, I peed on the pillows. She'd be able to salvage a lot of it I figured, but it would take some work. Then, suddenly, I had an idea. I was going to be very naughty, oh yeah!

I headed down to the laundry room. I looked around. I smiled. A half-gallon of Clorox would do the trick. I took it back upstairs with me. This was going to be fun. This time I made sure I got the mattress and bed clothes too. I was pretty damn sure that this was one message she would understand.

I remembered the red dress in the bathroom sink. I went and got it. I threw it on the pile, kind of the cherry on top, I thoughts.

Now, I did my thing. I showered, collected stuff that I wanted and needed, loaded my truck, and headed out. Then, it occurred to me. I had no idea where I was going. But, then I did. She'd told me to go out and have fun, but to be home by midnight. It was a little after 8:00PM; I decided to follow her instructions.

The Calaboose was a country western bar and disco that I'd stopped at occasionally. I knew the bartender from high school, Jerry Moncrief. And, a plus, he had Philippine Red Horse on tap; well, he was half Flipp, as he proudly announced to anybody who'd listen, so I guess it made a kind of sense; that he had Red Horse on hand that is.

"Hey, Skip, long time no see," he said, as I commandeered a barstool.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Decided to do some cruisin' tonight."

"Cruisin'? Ain't you still married to that looker from your college days?" he said. It'd been at least a year since I'd been back to this place, but he remembered Pamela. Sign of a good bartender, I thought.

"Yeah, but not for long. She's out with her boyfriend tonight. We're done," I said.

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

"Got any Red Horse," I said.

"Sure do. Let me get you a draught," he said.

"That'd be a winner," I said.

I began surveying the room. Lots of women, but all of them seemed to be taken. Well, it was my first night out alone in years. I'd hook me up sooner or later, and, if it even mattered, later would probably be best anyway.

Ten miles away, at the Elegance night club, I knew the two of them would be talking. And, I didn't have to guess what their topic of conversation might be. No indeed, it would be about her "asshole, wimp" of a husband; of that I was totally sure. Was I humiliated? Of course, but I was also pulling myself up out of that mess: wimp-city would be staring at my back from now on. I started laughing.

Jerry came back up to my end of the bar. He looked me askance. "Something funny?" he asked. I waved him off; then, I changed my mind and called him back.

"Well, yeah, kinda," I said. "Before I left, I sabotaged all of my wife's clothes. I was just thinking about her likely reaction when she discovers it-smells it."

"Her clothes?" he said.

"Yeah, I poured her makeup and a bunch of other stuff all over them," I said.

"Yeah, well, it ain't gonna be so funny if she catches up with you. Does she know how to shoot?" he said, only half in jest.

"No, I don't think so," I said.

"Well, you better be thinkin' about cutting your financial ties right quick or she will rape your economic ass," he said. I know I paled.

"Jesus, you're right, Jerry. I was so upset that I didn't even think about that stuff. I'll be doing that in the earlyam" I said. "Anyway, I can't do any of that now. Besides, I really am Cruisin' tonight. Actually, my personal whore told me to."

"You know, I think I might have someone you might want to meet. Just broke up with her guy too. He traded her in on some younger fluff," he said. I eyed him.

"Really?" I said.

"Buy her a drink. Then, it's up to you," he said.

"Buy her a drink?"

"Yeah, that's her over there talking to her lawyer," he said. I looked where he was looking. Blond hair, porcelain complexion, great overall package, maybe mid-thirties: I liked what I saw.

What's her name?" I said.

"Helena. She's Russian. Some dude brought her over, married her, and dumped her after two years. She's lookin' to hook up," he said. I saw the lawyer get up and head out: business concluded I supposed.

She was headed for the bar.

"Uh-Jerry, can I get a Red Horse," she said. I liked her taste in brew. I threw caution to the winds.

"Uh-miss? I'm well acquainted with the barkeep here. Let me use my influence if you will," I said. She gave me a look that let me know she thought that I was crazy.

Jerry joined us. "Jerry, please get this lady a horse, okay?" I said, playing the big roll.

"A horse?" she said.

"Yeah, drink a horse, ride a cowboy," I said. She laughed.

"I think you have the lyrics mixed up there, mister…?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Conrad Winston."

"Helena, Helena Cross nee Pavlov; and no I don't have any dogs," she said. I smirked.

"Okay. Me neither," I said.

We talked for some minutes, and I asked her to dance. We did and oh did she feel and smell good. I almost forgot why I was there. I was there to follow my wife's instructions. And, then I thought about her final instruction: to be home by midnight.

Helena had joined me at the bar, and we talked up a storm. Her husband was an asshole, she was alone in a strange land. Resources fast running out, I supposed, and nowhere to turn. I made my move.

"Helena. Any chance I could get a date with you for say next Saturday night?" I said. She smiled.

"I think I could go for that," she said. "But, let's dance some more; it makes me feel human again." And we did dance, several times actually.

We were walking back to our seats at the bar after a particularly grueling chacha.

"Jerry, got a post it I can have-and a pen?" she said.

He handed her the requisite items and she wrote down her numbers and her address. I nodded.

"Great penmanship," I said. "Seven o'clock?"

"That'd be good," she said. "I do have to go now. But, I will be waiting for you on Saturday at seven."

"I'll be there," I said. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and was gone.

It was 11:30PM. I smiled at Jerry. "Jer, I gotta go too. See yuh," I said. He waved me goodbye as he polished a glass.

I parked on the next street over, so she wouldn't see my car. I walked to the house. The lights were still out; she wasn't home yet. I figured to go in and hide out. I wanted to be there when she went upstairs and saw the disaster of her clothes. I had to hear her if not see her.

I was in the laundry room, and I had the door to it closed as it usually was. It was highly unlikely that she would go into it this time of night. She'd use the hamper in the master bedroom's bath for the clothes she'd worn for him tonight. I at least had our little frig in the Laundry room from which to extract beer.

I just couldn't miss her reaction: her surprise and shock. It was me that got the shock.

She'd brought the asshole home with her. I checked my cell it was almost 1:00AM. She'd obviously wanted me here so she could rub my nose it for messing up her dress and delaying her leaving. Now, I actually felt good about what I'd done to her clothes. It figured to mess up the fucking good time that they'd planned for I was sure.

"Aren't you-we-kinda rubbing his nose in it?" said Mr. Pollard.

"Yes, I guess. But, her deserves it," she said. She went quiet. "The mess-on the floor-he didn't clean it up! Well, he fucking will tomorrow!"

"Pamela?" said Pollard after a full minute of nothing having been said. "Pamela, this is a statement." I could almost see, feel, her snorting her anger: mentally listing all of the things she was going to do to me.

"He should be here unless he did go out. Let's go upstairs. The wimpy little shit is probably in bed," she said."

"Boy you are mad," he said. "Remind me never to get on your bad side." I heard her snicker.

"Come on," she said. "We'll use the guest room tonight. He can find us in the morning and cry in his wimpy-assed beer."

"He might object to us going that far," he said. "I mean us doing it here. We should just stick to the plan of having you introduce me."

"He might, but you're six-five and he's five-six. I don't see it as an insoluble problem," she said.

"Look, what you say may be true, but fighting him…"

"Yes, yes, I know. I was just kidding. If he cries, I'll offer him your handkerchief. Okay?" she said.

I slipped out the laundry room and headed for the stairs. I'd wait at the bottom of the staircase, out of sight, until I heard the screams. I didn't quite rub my hands together in glee.

"What the fuck!" she screamed.

"Sweet Jesus," said Pollard. "The smell! Your clothes…"

"There's ten thousand dollars' worth of damage here. And, look at my makeup table.

"And, he is clearly not here," said Pollard. "He's left you."

"Oh my God!" she wailed. "What am I going to do!" I decided to take my parting shot.

"See yuh in divorce court, dear!" I fairly yelled.

The two of them stormed out of the room and leaned over the upstairs railing.

"Conrad! What have you done!" she screamed at me.

"Gotten a measure of revenge for you doing me like you have. And, I see you intended to show him off in front of me tonight. Shove him in my face. Nice!" I said. "Have a nice fucking life the both of you. No, don't; I despise you; be miserable instead."

I had to get out of there; I was beginning to break up. My glee had evaporated at the sight of her. She was still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and now; well, now she was somebody else's. I'd be a long time getting over that one if I ever could."

"So, you've broken it off permanently with her," said Helena.

"Yes. There's no going back now. At least I can't think of any way," I said.

"You sound like you wish that there were a way," she said.

"We were married a long time. I would like another chance at her if there were some way to guarantee she'd remain faithful. But-well-there isn't," I said.

"You sound like me," she said. "I'd give my left tit to have my Mr. Cross back, but, he kicked me to the curb for some chickee that will be cheating on in right soon if I know anything about such things. So, I guess I'm of a mind to see Mr. Cross on a cross." She laughed.

"Yeah we are a pair," I said. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," she said.

"You horny tonight?" I said. She smiled and then laughed outright.

"Let's go. I need it; you need it; we can help each other out," she said.

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

The sex hand been good. We were naked, relaxing, and quiet. Each of us was lost in our own little world. She broke the spell.

"Conrad?" she said.

"Hmm," I said.

"I will be moving out of here by the end of the week," she said. "I'm broke. I'll be moving in with a friend. So if we are going to be doing this anymore it'll have to be at your place. I hope that's all right because I love doing you." I looked over at her.

"You wanna stay here?" I asked.

"Well, yes, but I can't afford it," she said.

"Forget moving. If you're amenable, I'll move in here and pay the tab. I mean if you want," I said. "I've been moteling it, and that's getting old. I'll take the second bedroom and that way we'll each have a little privacy; well, except on nights when we don't' want any." I was smiling. She looked at me.

"Okay, I guess," she said. "But…"

"Don't fret, girl. You can still date anyone you want. I know you're looking for something permanent; and I'm not sure I can fill that bill. Actually, I know I can't right now. Still, if you and I can date some; it'd sure be good for my ego if nothing else," I said.

"Wow!" she said. "Conrad, I'm not sure about the future either. And, you are very right. Down the line I do want to find me a permanent relationship. And, I feel the same way as you; I mean about needing someone near, more or less steady, to hold on to until I can find that mister wonderful."

"Good, then we have an arrangement," I said.

"We do," she said.

Helena and I had been doing our thing for three days before she came at me; no, not Helena-Pamela.

I was looking over some plans with one of my subcontractors when I got a tap on my shoulder.

"Hello, Conrad," she said. I turned.

"Pamela, what are you doing here? And, this is a hardhat area; you're not supposed to be here," I said.

"We need to sit down. It's lunch time and there's Cracker Barrel just down the street. Whaddya say?" she said. I looked over at Rory.

"Rory, I'm going to lunch, okay. Call those guys and tell them we need the materials muy pronto," I said.

"Will do," he said.

"Okay, Pam, let's go," I said. "I am hungry." She nodded, and we headed out on foot for the CB.

We settled into a booth with our waters in front of us.

"Nice dress," I said. "New?"

"Not funny," she said.

"Yeah, well you rubbing your tall, dark, and handsome boyfriend in my face was not funny either," I said. She just gave me a hard look.

"I need you to come home, Conrad. I can't make it alone, and you know that," she said.

"Really, and Mr. Pollard gets to use your body but won't pay your way? Is that about it?" I said.

"Mister Pollard is not my husband; you are," she said.

"That figures to be a temporary thing," I said. "Tell him he doesn't get to use your body anymore unless he pays your way. That oughta get him off the dime."

"Damn it, Conrad, we had an agreement. You promised to let me have my little thing on the side. I promised not to short you, and you said okay for me to have him on a part time basis. You did!" she said.

"I changed my mind. I never really said it was okay either. What I said was that I would try to live with it; but I sure as hell didn't like it," I said. "And, after I saw you dressed to kill for him the other night; well, I realized that there was no way that I was going to be able to deal with it, not even."

"Did you have to ruin my entire wardrobe?" she said.

"Spur of the moment revenge after you insulted me and commanded me to be in by midnight. Your implied 'or else' killed our marriage," I said.

"I said that stuff in anger because you… and I didn't insult you!"

"Yeah, threw up all over you. That should have been a clue to you what you playing around on me was doing to me. But, were you bothered by it at all, I mean my state of mind, my emotional upset? Not at all. You just got mad at me, threatened me. But, no more, Pamela, no more. I have my head out of my ass now. So no more! Got it!" I said. "And, you did insult me. You called me a wimpy little shit. Well, I may not be tall, but I'm not the things you called me, not even."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay. I said those things in the heat of… Anyway, after I had a chance to look at it, the whole thing, and yes I did talk to Ron about it too, I realized that I was being heavy handed with you. Ron, if it matters, agrees with you. Said I was an asshole rubbing your nose in it like I did," she said.

"Hmm, he and I might be able to get along after all," I said.

"Wouldn't that be something," she said.

"Yeah, wouldn't it: he and I comparing notes about how good 'our' woman is in bed," I said, and that about as sarcastically as it could be said.

"I could live with that if you two could get along," she said.

"Not gonna happen, Pamela. Get that! I said.

"Never say never, Conrad, never say never," she said.

After my little face to face with Pamela, I made a couple of decisions. One, I was going to keep my, Helena's and mine, little apartment for the foreseeable future. Two, I wasn't going to go to the trouble of divorcing her. Unless, I met someone who I did want to marry, there didn't seem to be an upside to actually divorcing my personal whore.

I was just going to be cool and not worry about anything.

Helena and I did the dirty three and four nights a week. Sometimes at home, sometimes in the backseat of my car. We weren't an item in the sense of long term, but we were close. Then it ended.

"Conrad, he's come back to me. He's come back and on his knees. We're going to try again," she said. "You sure it's what you want, dear heart," I said.

"I think so," she said. I nodded. We kissed, and I helped her pack. I would keep the apartment; it suited me. She'd be moving in with her Mr. Cross.

"The door's always open, girl… I mean you know," I said.

"I know, and I thank you for everything, Conrad, and I mean everything," she said.

And then she was gone. I was alone once more.

My nights were once again relegated to a kind of lackadaisical hunt for companionship. And as to that, my luck couldn't have been worse. Even the prostitutes in the neighborhood were too busy to see me. I wondered how my wife was getting on. Doubtless a whole lot better than me; of that I was more than certain.

"We have to do something if we are ever going to get him to be my willing cuckold," said Pamela.

"Yeah, well I'm thinking that you're dreaming," said Ronald. "He's never going to be happy with you fucking me or anyone else. Too straight laced for that kind of thing."

"If we could get him to swing…"

"Yeah, well as I recall he's already told you no to that idea," he said.

"Yes, but that's because he doesn't think that other women will want him. He's shy of all damn things," she said.

"They probably wouldn't want him. I mean he's short; his dick is marginal, his skills non-existent; oh and yes, he's a nice guy," said Ron.

"He got me?" she said.

"Yes, when he was much younger and doubtless a whole lot better looking than now," he said. "Look, I like the guy; well, what I know about him. But his confidence level is way too low for him to get many women to want to do him. He's got his fucking emotional baggage hanging on his sleeve so that anyone can see it-not a turn on. It's the way it is."

"Maybe, but I have an idea, and you're going to help me," she said.

Work-work-work: that was my gig. With my wife history, with Helena gone, I still had the five sisters to keep me company, but after a while they kinda lost their allure. But then, a tiny bit of luck; I guess it was luck. My ex decided it might be time to throw me a leaky life preserver. She catches me on a barstool stirring my beer with a straw-nobody does that; well, nobody who's conscious of the world around himself does.

"How yuh feelin', Conrad," said Pamela, coming up behind me and startling the piss outta me. "What are you doing with that straw?"

"Sweet Jesus, Pamela!" I said.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she said.

"What are you doing here?" I said, not unreasonably.

"Basically to see if you've gotten over your snit and might be willing to have a rational sit down," she said.

"My snit? My snit!" I said. "I notice you're

dressed. Good 'ole Ronald foot the bill to reinvent your wardrobe?" I didn't quite snicker.

"Yes and yes," she said. I stared at her like she was from outer space.

"Hmm, I guess he makes more scratch than I thought. And as for my snit…"

"Look, Conrad, you can't stay mad forever, and you had agreed to let me keep my little thing on the side," she said.

"Yes, but it has proved too much for me. I just can't see how…"

"Sit down with us, Conrad. And, yes, I mean us, not just me. I love you. I like and need him for some extra relief now and again, but that's all. He plays with other ladies too. That doesn't bother me.

"Conrad, I'm hoping that, if we can talk, that you'll come home and be my husband again. I'm hoping that you and Ron can be friends. I'm hoping that you can be a little bit more understanding than you so far have been. And, selfishly, I'm hoping that, from now on, you'll leave my clothes the hell alone. Whaddya say?" she said.

"You saying that you want me to sit down with the both of you, not just you? Did I hear you right?" I said.

"Yes." She had stopped me with that one. I could see no upside to sitting down with a man I viscerally hated. But-did I actually hate him. The answer, as I had come to know in recent days, was no. Still-sit down with him?

"What would be in it for me?" I said. "I mean if I talked with him and you?"

"A much improved sex life for the three of us. And, the realization by you that Ronald is no threat to you whatsoever," she said.

"I don't know," I said.

"Come on, stud, I won't bite and neither will he," she said.

"You know, I'm gonna say yes. When and where?" I said.

"Oh my God! Thank you thank you thank you!" she didn't quite scream. She came to me and gave me a hug that actually hurt.

"Okay okay," I said. "Again, when and where?"

"Tomorrow night at the house," she said. I nodded.

"I gotta go," she said. "I gotta get him onboard with this too. He's not going to believe it.

"Conrad, we are going to make it," she said.

"Hmm, maybe," I said. I was far less sanguine about our chances than she was.

I was two minutes late. So was Ronald. We walked up the steps together. We shared a glance at each the other but nothing else.

The front door was wide open. I went in first. He hesitated. I motioned him to come in; he relaxed and did. At least he didn't have the brass balls to come in without an invite.

"Wow! You two ride together?" she said. She was smirking, but in truth it did kinda look like we'd come together.

"No, no, we didn't ride in together," I said. He nodded at my correctitude.

"So, we're all together at the same time and the same place," she said.

The two of us, Ron and me, again nodded.

"I'd like to say that I appreciate what you're trying to do here, Pam. What it will lead to is a mystery to me, but I do appreciate your efforts," he said.

"So what's on the agenda?" I said.

"There's a pitcher of martinis on the dinette table. Let's adjourn to there, okay," she said. We did.

"Honey will you do the honors," she said, indicating that I should pour the drinks. I shrugged and did as she requested.

Seated and sipping, the silence was palpable.

"I guess I should start," she said, finally. "I mean since I called this little meeting."

The two of us males nodded. It occurred to me that we were acting like twins.

"Conrad, I've done very badly by you. I treated you badly and was totally selfish in the way I acted and dealt with you. I apologize," she said.

"Ronald, You are better in bed than is Conrad, but he is my husband and a better one is not findable," she said. He didn't respond, but I thought I saw a hint of irritation in his nod.

"May I ask," I said. "How is he better in bed than me? I mean why couldn't I learn to be enough for you. I mean since it seems that we are laying our cards on the table tonight."

"Some men have staying power, Conrad, and some don't. Ronald does. You don't. Sorry, but that's just a fact. And…"

"And?" I said.

"Well, and his dick is twice yours, and make no mistake that's a biggee. I'm not saying these things to hurt you. You do it for me in a dozen ways, just not that way," she said.

"So, I guess this meeting is over then since I'm clearly not man enough to satisfy you. We'll divorce and you can marry Ronald here," I said. He still hadn't said anything substantial, but once again his look did. It was clear that he was more than hoping that she'd accept my offer and go for the divorce.

"She doesn't love me, Conrad. She does love my dick, and I do satisfy her sexually, while you at best are okay, not great, but okay; and, she has told me that you were. No, you need to keep her for your wife, and she needs to keep me for the occasional liaison only," he said.

"She clearly doesn't want me. My income maybe; I could buy that real easy, but me? No way does she want me for a husband in any real sense of the word.

"You are exactly wrong, Conrad," she said. "I do want you for a husband, for my husband. Your income? I won't lie to you. Your income t ain't exactly last on my list, but it isn't first either. And there are lots of girls out there for whom cock size is not the biggee that it is for me. I guess that's part of why I wanted you to go out too, like me and Ronald do. You know to play a little on the side. But, to always come home to me.

"I need you at night to cuddle with me, to hold me, to love me and protect me, and adore me. Yes adore me. I love it that you want me so badly. The sex you'll be getting from me is because I am so grateful to you for being there for me, for being my main man," she said.

"Your main man?" I said.

"Yes, Ron is my man too, but he is second in line to you except for the couple of hours each week that he and I do the dirty. And, I promise you to give you twice as much sex as you ever got before if you will kindly stop being such a wuss and take me up on my-our-offer," she said, looking over at her lover.

"A wuss, am I?' I said.

"You have been. But I am hopeful that after tonight you will no longer be one," she said.

"Fantastic," I said, about as sarcastically as I could.

"Conrad-I want to clarify something here because I think I might be giving you the wrong idea. A man, any man, can pleasure a woman. I mean if he takes his time, and is sensitive to her needs and likes. And you are both of those things, Conrad. You are sensitive to my needs. You are sensitive to my likes and dislikes. You do pleasure me. I love it when you do me. Are you as good as Ronald? Hell no. But, you are plenty good enough," she said. "To paraphrase what you guys are always saying about some of us girls, I'd wouldn't be kicking you outta bed."

"Fucking wonderful. I might be mediocre, but I'm not a complete loser. Gotta love it," I said. "I don't know why I'm still sitting here. I mean if you chop me any lower I'll need to be killing myself, since I wouldn't have a whole lot of reason to go on living."

"Look, Conrad, I get to fuck her. You get to fuck her. She gets pleasured all around. And, if you have the sense God gave sheep, you'll do a little playing on the side, and find out just how good you are. Hell, maybe you aren't worth a shit as a lover. But, like Pam is saying, you probably are. But, you're gonna die never knowing if you don't get your act together and check it out, the scene I mean.

"We planned on going out tonight. You need to come with us. I think You'll score if you play your cards right. But, if you don't, this lovely lady here will take you home and fuck you into insensitivity and leave you for dead. And, if that turns out to be the case, if you don't score, we'll try again tomorrow.

"But, if you do score, then you'll be making it with whoever it is, and I'll be taking Pam to my place to fuck her. But, and it's a big but, she'll be coming back to you; and I mean tonight, unless you call and tell her to come back tomorrow morning after you say goodbye to your little piece of strange. So how about it," he said.

I couldn't help it. All of the talk about fucking and strange and all of it had gotten me horny. I nodded.

"Okay, I'm really not into your swinging scene, yours and Pamela's; but I am willing to give it a look see. But, Pam," I said, looking over at her, "if I don't' score, don't you be hard to find. Because in that case, good 'ole Ronald will have to be employing the five sisters tonight. You good with that?"

"Yes, sir," she said. "So, if you two gentlemen will give me a little time, I have to go upstairs and prepare myself for this little adventure." The two us nodded, and she headed upstairs.

"What makes you so sure that I'll score?" I said, looking straight at my rival.

"You're a good looking guy, Conrad, and Pam's told me about you. She says you're a good dancer, and a good kisser. Not very good at fucking, she says. But I'm pretty sure that's because nobody ever told you what to do. Sexually, Conrad, I'm betting that you're a sexual ignoramus," he said. I sneered.

"Yeah, maybe, but I don't try to break up other people's marriages," I said.

"Is that what you think? That I'm trying to break up your marriage? Nothing could be farther from the truth. I like Pam, and I love fucking her, but I am not in love with her, nor is she in love with me. Get a grip man, and do what I tell you tonight when we go out. Okay?" he said.

"Directions from the master, that it?" I said.

"You could do worse," he said. Just then Pamela came down.

"We'll see," I said.

My wife was beautiful. Evidence of that was the fact that the two us males had our collective tongues hanging out.

The Elegance night club was my wife's favorite hangout. Had been for years. She and I used to frequent it, and I'd learned in recent times that she and good old Ronald went there a lot. Well, we were back there now.

It kind of irked me when the bargirl who came to serve us referred to her boyfriend as her husband. I got a worried look from my wife for that one. And, she didn't correct the girl which irked me even more. I was going to let it pass, but she wasn't.

"Conrad, we come here sometimes, Ron and me; the girl was making assumptions that's all," she said.

"Yeah, I guess," is all I said. I surveyed the place. Not much had changed in the couple of years since I'd last been in it. Some new help I thought. It had to be new since all of the bargirls, there were five or six of them serving the clientele, appeared to be recent high school graduates.

"You need to roam a little," said Ron. When you see a girl you might like, or, that might like you, say something-but no jokes."

"Like what?" I said.

"Nice music, like to dance?" he said. "I know you know how, Pam says so. So use what you got."

I actually thought he had a good idea. I was a good dancer. If I couldn't do anything else, I could do that. I decided to improve on his idea.

I waited for a good number I liked. And there it was, "Black Magic Woman." I loved to chacha.

Ron pulled Pam out onto the floor. I watched him-them-for a minute. He was sluggish and kinda clumsy looking. I cut in.

"Don't worry big guy. I just need her for a little advertising," I said. I could see a light go on in Pam's brain.

"Yes, that's a good idea," she said to Ron. And Pam and I tore up the floor. I mean we really tore it up; I was on a mission. Three minutes later I escorted her back to her table and handed her off to Ron.

I seemed to have a different partner for every dance after that. Two of the women appeared to be competing for my favor. I had to say: it sure as hell did wonders for my ego.

Three hours later I had two phone numbers that were literally foisted upon me. I'd never use them of course, but I did appreciate the fact they appreciated me even if it was only for my dancing skills.

The night was a qualified success. I was indeed not the loser that my wife evidently-her words to the contrary notwithstanding-thought me.

On the way home I sat in the back seat. Ron wasn't going to get any poontang tonight, I was, but his legs were too damn long for the back seat. Pamela drove.

Arriving at our place, Ronald baby picked up his car, and me and Pamela headed inside for what I figured to be a continued bit of high pressure sales on her part. I was righter than I suspected.

"You did well tonight. You gettin' it now?" she said.

"How do you mean?" I said.

"Clearly you have things to offer that women, and especially this woman, want and need. And, yet, all or most all of them, have husbands or boyfriends that they will go back to tonight-well-like me," she said. I had to nod.

"Maybe," I said.

"Maybe? There's no maybe about it. You do realize that I only got one more dance with you after the first one all night, don't' you?" she said. I had to think. She was right; I had to smile.

"Yeah, but the way I figure it, that was because I could dance better than the rest of those guys," I said. "If I had to depend on my fabulous good looks, well…"

She smirked. We all have our talents," she said. "Ron's tall, dark, and handsome. I'm prettier for my age than most other women. You're a top of the line dancer-a big thing for most women. What I'm saying, Conrad, is that you are no fucking loser: you've got assets quite apart from you paycheck."

"Yeah, but what about once I'm standing naked in front of some woman? What then?" I said.

"You do the best you can. You're not that bad. Your dick's a little on the small size, so you do with what you've got. You use your tongue after you fuck her to finish her off. You treat her like you treat me, I mean with sensitivity. Do all of these things, and you'll do fine.

"Jesus! Listen to me. I'm giving you tips on how to make it with other women," she said, "talk about odd."

"Yes, so that you can do it with good 'ole tall, dark, and handsome without me getting overly jealous or dumping your ass," I said.

"Yes, in part, but also because I was a shit before and a selfish shit at that. I've got it together now. We'll swing, Conrad, you and I; but, we'll always come home to each the other," she said.

"Hmm," I said, still not sure of it all.

"You gonna call those girls?" she said.

"What girls?" I said, hoping she didn't see them give me their numbers.

"The ones who gave you their numbers. You should, and you should do it tomorrow. Do not let grass grow under your feet in these kinds of situations, Conrad. Just remember, you always come home to me."

I looked down. I actually felt guilty about not having thrown the numbers away. They were burning a hole in my pocket, but did I really want to call them.

"I don't know. Dancing at a public bistro is one thing. But-fucking someone other than my wife, even with her permission, I just don't know," I said.

"Do as I say. Call them tomorrow. Set up separate dates for next Friday and Saturday nights. Ron and I will do the same but at different places. We'll use a motel. You should do the same for the short run; until you find out if their worth second dates in the future. But, in the meantime, this week, you will fuck me raw and be my one and only. Whaddya say?"

"I'll think about it," I said.

"Anyway, enough about all of that. I need you to fuck your wife. Now! And, I do want a serious fucking, no sensitivity tonight. Just do me up good and proper. Okay?" she said. "Jesus, I'm horny."

I was too. We stripped. I spun her around and bent her over the couch. I kicked her legs apart and unceremoniously rammed myself inside of her. She was wet as hell; I had no trouble bottoming out inside of her. I screwed her slowly at first until she started to grow impatient.

"Fuck me damn it!" she said. "Hard!" I began pounding her. She grunted with each thrust.

"Goo-good!" she squealed. "Keep-keep-on doing it that way…"

She did and I came in a gusher. She didn't make it.

"Fuck!" she said. "I almost made it. Try to last a little longer this time." She dragged me around to the front of the couch and made me sit. She knelt in front of me and sucked me hard once more.

She stretched herself out on the floor, spread her legs, and crooked a finger at me to mount her. I didn't have to be told twice. She pulled her knees back and straightened her legs up and over my shoulders; they were pointed straight up in the air. "Do me good asshole," she said. "I need to come." Her tone and her words actually frightened me. I dared not fail her. I drilled her. I pumped in and out of her pussy and I knew she was close: her eyes glazed over. Her jerky movements told me a small cataclysm was taking place inside of her vagina. I finally unloaded mu spunk and collapsed on top of her.

"Roll off of me butthead; I can't breathe," she said. I smiled then laughed. I rolled off of her and to her side.

"Asshole? Butthead? What's with all of the name calling?" I said.

"It heightens the moment, the dirtiness of it all. It turns me on," she said. "Oh, and you're not done." I glanced at her. I knew I was pretty close to being empty, done.

She sat up and swung a knee over me and settled down on my face. "Eat me, chicken shit. See if you can make me cum again. This is your duty from now on. Got it!" she said.

I couldn't really answer her, but I did do my duty and she did come again. Testifying to that was the way she pressed her pussy and her anus down onto me face when she stiffened in a really body wrenching orgasm.

She fell forward and I had a perfect view of her wonders.

Some minutes later we were doing our best to regain our breath and heading off to separate showers.

A half hour after that we were sitting at the dinette with Tuna sandwiches and soft drinks in front of us. It was almost 3:00AM.

"Helluva night," I said. She smirked.

"And many more just like it to come," she said. I nodded.

I did call the two women the next day. I had to. Pamela was sitting across from me when I did it. I guess she didn't trust me to get it done without her encouragement, even her active participation. I had dates for both Friday and Saturday nights, and those with two totally different women.

Pam and Ronald were going out too, and they'd be going to the Elegance. In my case I'd chosen the Calaboose.

I picked her up at a local Denny's where we had a cup of coffee before heading out. She preferred a neutral location until she got to know me better was the way she phrased it. Well, I could dig it. Single woman, me a man she'd seen but one time at a local bistro, knew nothing about him: like I say; she made sense.

"Well Tanya Mesa, and how are you this evening?" I said, smiling broadly.

"Well, Conrad Winston, quite well, thank you very much," she said.

The ride to the Calaboose was kinda long, so we talked. I learned that she was recently broken up with her fiancé, she was fortyish, she was blond and pretty, and she loved to dance. I knew this last already; she'd been good partner the previous week.

The drinks were good, the dancing was good, the company top drawer: it was a nice date. And, she agreed to a date for the following Friday. I actually wanted to ask her out the following night, but I did have a date with her rival; I would not stand a girl up.

I took her back to the Denny's where she'd parked her car; but I did get her home address this time. The flowing Friday I would pick her up there.

I got home late. Pamela wasn't there, but she was fifteen minutes later. She'd been fucked; there was no doubt about that. I'd been in a good mood. I hadn't thought about her and Pollard hardly at all the whole night; my date was that good. But, now I had misgivings.

"How was your date?" she said.

"Good, nothing happened, I mean not like what you and Ronald obviously did," I said. She frowned, but recovered.

"It will. This was your first go 'round. So, anyway, what did you do?" she said.

"We drank and danced and talked and I got a goodnight kiss and a second date," I said. Now, she smiled.

"Well, good," she said.

"And you and Pollard?" I said.

"Yes, Conrad, he did fuck me. You knew that. We also did a bit of dancing too; I mean before we went to the motel. He's a better fucker than you, but you are a whole lot better at dancing." I guess I looked a little down.

"Look, Conrad, we've-you and I-have gotten it on four times this week. And, you did good too, I might add. This weekend stuff is just fun stuff add to the fun stuff we do. So, don't be jealous of Ronald. He's just a friend, a toy. You're the man, not him," she said.

"Yeah, yeah okay," I said. I made up my mind. I'd be angling for a homerun tomorrow night. Oh yeah. I needed to get fucked instead of just fucked over. Yes, tomorrow I would be going for broke with my date.

I picked Gloria Billings up at her townhouse, not far from the Calaboose. She wasn't as pretty in the face as Tanya, but very sexy looking. Short with a mane of black hair and an hourglass figure: she was a walking wet dream. But, on the downside, she was only twenty-two years old-too big a difference for a serious relationship, but, I wasn't looking for one of those anyway; hence, she was good for my purposes, a little fun with no long term commitment. Why she was interested in a man twice her age was a mystery to me. But, I would go with it for the short term.

The early part of the date was partly a repeat of the date I'd had the previous night with Tanya: good whiskey, good dancing, and some laughs. Conversation? She was boring. Well, she was too young to know anything. But, she was okay overall. And then she was more than okay.

Around 11:00PM I took her home; well, we were danced out. She did not give me a kiss goodnight. No indeed. She took me by the hand and led me inside.

"Have a seat, Conrad, I'll be back in a minute. It was five minutes and she wearing only her black panties. Jesus! Did mention that she was sexy as hell! If I didn't I should be shot for my error.

She walked, no, swayed over to the mini-bar against the far wall. She poured us two glasses of wine. I'm not into white wine so much, but she could have peed in the goblet and I'd have been happy, actually very happy. We sipped for a moment or two without saying anything-well, I had an excuse, I was damn near verbally catatonic.

"Gonna stay dressed all night?" she said.

"Uh…"

She put her goblet down and began unbuttoning my shirt; I let her. He unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants and pulled them down my legs. She stood.

"I love you red boxers," she said. "You are so the little boy." She giggled. I pushed my shorts down and she eyes my five inch gun with interest. She didn't laugh.

"I've never had an older man before. You going to do me good?" she said.

"If I fail you, I will kill myself in the morning," I said. Now, she laughed uproariously.

"No, no, don't do that. Just give me your best shot. Okay?" she said.

"Damn straight," I said. "This girl didn't have a lot experience in life, but I had the feeling that she was more than competent inn the sex department. She was sure as hell more experienced than I was.

I knelt in front of her and kissed her pussy through the material of her panties. She smelled wonderful, womanly. I slowly peeled her out of her panties revealing a completely bald mound and an enslaving slit. I worshipped her.

She turned around and I kissed her butt. I spread her cheeks and kissed and licked her anus. She giggled.

Taste good, mister?" she said.

"Oh yeah," I said.

She turned around again and I ministered to her pussy lips and then her clit. She was wet now, really really wet.

She laid down on her back and spread her legs for me. I entered her missionary, ramming her mercilessly until I exploded inside of her. I knew I'd been selfish; she knew it too and expected it. But it was no more than ten minutes later with massaging my balls and penis that I was once again loaded for battle. This one would be for her. And it was.

"Whew, not bad," she said. "You got me off the second time."

"Thank God," I said.

We slept the night away. The sun woke me. She was nowhere to be seen. I headed downstairs. She was sipping coffee. She got up and got me a cup.

"You did good last night, Conrad," she said, "but…"

"But?" I said.

"But, last night was a single event not to be repeated," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"You're too old for me. I let you do me because I really did want to experience an older man. But, well, now I have," she said, "I hope it was good for you." I nodded. Then, I had a bad thought.

"Gloria, can I ask you a question? Oh, and it was very good; well, you can imagine. I mean, as you say, we won't be seeing each other again, well, not in the same circumstances anyway. And, yes, you are right. A long term relationship wouldn't work with us being so different age wise. But, can I ask? There wasn't another… " She laughed, and kinda stopped me.

"You men. You're worried about your dick size aren't you?' she said. I looked down.

"You are kinda small. But not totally useless that way. Most women do prefer a dick that's a least six inches. But a four or five incher like yours can do the job okay. Not wonderfully well, but okay. So, is that what you wanted to know?" she said.

"Yes, and thank you very much for your candor," I said. So it is only the age issue then?"

"Yes," she said. I actually felt better. Gloria wasn't as good looking as Tanya, but she was a hottie, no question about that. I would be thanking my lucky stars that she gave me a tumble.

One week and my sex life and maybe my marriage had turned around. I was still a little jealous of Ronald having so much influence with my wife, but at least now I had options or so I imagined.

A swinging lifestyle? A swinging lifestyle which included medium term or even long term lovers-like Ronald. Pamela had her Ronald and I maybe had the possibility of finding someone like she had; well, if I put my mind to it. And, I was considering putting a move on Tanya, for just such a liaison, if only to get some leverage with my wife.

I had decided that to wimp out would only end in divorce. This way, even if it did, I'd be able to save my ego from being totally destroyed. And, after my night with Gloria, I was pretty confident that I could score and save my marriage too. But, as things were about to turn out, I'd discover that I was fooling myself; well, sort of at any rate.

Over the next several weeks I dated Tanya several times. I finally hit a homerun. The night was cool everywhere except in her bed where things were hotter than hell.

She seemed insatiable. And, we were getting along quite well otherwise as well. To the point where I began to think of her as a fallback position if my wife-unlikely though I thought it to be-dumped me for good 'ole Ronald. And then, after a period of ten weeks of dating and getting to know each other, she came clean. At first I was so angry I couldn't speak, not to her, not to my wife, not to anyone; well, anyone but my very good friend, Jerry, at the Calaboose; he alone was trustworthy, but I am getting ahead of myself. Back to Tanya…

"Conrad, we've been kind of an item now for some time. I'd like to say that I consider you more than a friend and more than a short term lover.

"Conrad, I want you to divorce your wife, and, I want you to marry me. There, I've said it," said Tanya. My mouth fell open, my heart stopped, my-uh-bodily functions threatened to embarrass me. I was speechless, well, almost.

"Huh? I mean, I have a wife. She and I have an arrangement. I don't think…"

"Conrad, you need to shut up for a moment," she said.

"Huh? What?" I said.

"Your wife, well, she's not what you think, Conrad," said Tanya.

"What? What are you talking about!" I said, raising my voice only slightly.

"Yes, you have an arrangement with her. She gets to screw her boyfriend and you don't get to object because you're screwing me, and that other girl. What was her name, ah yes, Gloria, the kid from the cradle," she said.

"Tanya, yes, that's all true, so what?" I said.

"Conrad, I have an arrangement with your wife too, and with Mr. Pollard. They paid me and Gloria to date you: one thousand dollars each. All we had to do was date you. You'd take us out and have a little fun, and if we fucked you at least once, we'd each get an additional thousand dollars each," she said. "For the record they did pay us; well, they did me. I assume they paid Gloria also."

I know my face had to have turned slate gray. I was certain that what she said was true. It all fit. But I had a thought.

"How many times did you have to screw me? I mean at a thousand for each roll in the hay…"

"Only once," she said.

"But you and I… " I started.

"Yes, you and I have continued to get along quite nicely thank you very much. That's because I've fallen for you. So, back to my question," she said.

"Question?" I said.

"Yes, will you marry me?" she said.

"I-I-I have to think, Tanya. If what you say is true, I need time to get everything straight in my head," I said.

"I know. But, regardless of what you decide, well, I'm here for you," she said.

"Thank you. I do appreciate your kindness here. But I will be talking to her, my wife," I said.

It all made perfect sense. I was not the catch that my lying wife said I was. I was set up. Gloria fucked me, and that for an extra thousand dollars and then got the hell outta Dodge. Tanya had stayed with me, and we had become an item of sorts. But marry her? And could I trust her? She knew I was well heeled if not actually rich; was that the attraction? Maybe not, she was forty, and maybe looking for someone to hold on to, someone like me. Shit! What a mess.

It was Friday. I'd cancelled my date with Tanya to nail the bitch, my wife. I was going to pin her and get the truth. And, what if the truth was that she'd played me as Tanya'd said; and yes, I did believe Tanya. Well, I had options now: I had Tanya.

I heard the garage door opener engage. She was home from shopping. I knew she likely had a date with Pollard tonight. I determined to be a wet blanket on her plans.

My truck, borrowed from a friend at work, was out front at the curb. It already had my stuff in it: a trunk and two suitcases.

"Honey? You're home early?" said Pamela.

"Yes, something came up," I said.

"Really?"

"Yes, I found out that you and Pollard have been playing me. Tanya outted you," I said. "Got anything to say?"

"Oh my God!" she said.

"I doubt if God is on the side of liars," I said. "You and Pollard are liars."

"Honey, it's not what you think," she said. "He and I, well, we just tried to give you a headstart. We knew you were too straight laced to go for it yourself. But, well that first night…"

"Yeah the night my great dancing got me two new girlfriends, well, potential ones," I said.

"Yes, and it worked out with you and Tanya. I mean…"

"Yes, actually, she decided that fucking me wasn't as bad as you think it is," I said.

"Honey, that's not true! You're fine in bed. You know that. Haven't we been good in bed together? I mean really," she said.

"Yeah, well you almost had believing that that was so. But, now I know it's just been a series of mercy fucks for good 'ole inept Conrad," I said.

"Honey, you have to calm down and give me a chance to explain," she said.

"You mean to convince me of your sincerity, right?" I said.

"Well, yes," she said.

"No, no, I don't trust you anymore. I'll be moving out. You won't stop your cheating, your cuckolding me. I won't any longer put up with it. So, we're quits," I said.

"Honey, wait a second. That night, the night of the dancing, that first night. Tanya and Gloria weren't the only ones that you danced with. Clearly you had something that other women wanted

that made you a winner," she said.

"Yeah, but none of the others were interested in more than getting a little exercise with someone who could lead, on the dance floor that is.

"No, Pamela, you and I are done. I never wanted to do any of this swinging stuff. And, now I like the idea even less. You have a nice life," I said, rising and grabbing my coat. "I wish things had worked out."

"Fuck," he said. "And, I thought we'd struck gold with Tanya. But, you say she doublecrossed us."

"That's what he said," said Pamela.

"What are you thinking. How are we going to handle this-mess," he said.

"I don't know. I honestly don't," she said.

"And he knows that you really don't have too high and opinion of his bedroom skills," he said.

"Yes, and I'm not going to be getting around that one anytime soon. He keeps referring to his mercy fucks," she said.

"Well, that's what they are," he said.

"Maybe, but they're real nonetheless. I do my level best for him every time we do it," she said.

"Does he ever get you off?" he said. "I mean ever?"

"He's come close a couple of times, but no, not yet. And now it looks like it'll never happen. I think he's going to divorce me. I just don't know," she said.

"Pam, I know I've said it before. And you've always pooh-poohed it because of the income thing. But…"

"Ron, I appreciate that you want me. And I want you too. But, well, I'd have to get a second job. I'm not cut out to be a part of the workforce. Not even," she said.

"Well, anyway, I'm here for you. And, I still say we could make it together," he said. She smiled at his earnestness.

I headed for Calaboose. I needed a drink, and, a woman who gave a damn about me. I called Tanya to meet me there.

I was sitting in a booth when she arrived, maybe five minutes after me.

"You sounded, I don't know-something," she said, plopping down in the seat across from me.

"Really? How about free or unsettled or angry or all of the above…"

"Wow! You and the missus, right?" she said.

"Yeah, right," I said. "We're done. I've got a proposition for you."

"And that would be?" she said.

"You and I live together. I pay the bills. We have fun-a lot. I need somebody, and you're the one I need," I said.

"Marriage I take it is off the table," she said.

"Can't do it. Things are too crazy in my head right now. Could it ever happen? Maybe, maybe not, I just don't know. But, what I am most certainly not going to be doing is crying in my beer. Done enough of that. Gotta get my act together.

"Anyway, you interested?" I said.

"Okay, yes," she said. I smiled for the first time since she walked in.

"I guess, I've kinda made your day, huh?" she said. "I mean judging from your smile."

"Yeah, I guess you have," I said.

And we were launched she and I. I moved in with Tanya, paid up her rent for the rest of the year that first week. It was win-win.

I didn't hear from Pamela for several days after the blow up. But, I did see her, twice. Once in the supermarket and once at the pharmacy. She knew my habits and she knew about my allergy. We didn't speak either time: I ran out of the places as soon as I spotted her. The second time, at the pharmacy, I saw her smile; like she knew something that I didn't and thought it was funny. Well, I didn't think it was funny, not at all. What was also true was the fact that she was fucking beautiful, and I couldn't get her out of my mind.

Then I ran into Pollard. "He had me in a situation where I couldn't easily run off: a flat tire on the highway three miles from the nearest gas station. He pulled over in front of me.

I faced him. I had a tire iron in my hand trying to get the lug nuts off so I could change the tire myself. He looked askance at the tire iron. "Get out of here Pollard. You're the last person in the world I want or need to be around."

"I could give you a ride to the station up the road. I know the guy; he can do that for you," he said.

I was tired and hungry and wanting to get home. I thought about it. For some damn reason he didn't piss me off as much as she did.

"I don't trust you enough to get in the car with you, but if you want, you can send your friend back," I said. "Oh, and don't expect a lot of gratitude for your efforts."

"No, no, I understand. She and I did some stuff. Hearts were in the right place, but our heads were up our collective asses," he said. "For the record, she misses the hell outta yuh. I wish she cared as much for me as she does for you."

"Yeah, right," I said.

"Seriously. It's been a real downer being around her since you cut country. Crying every night, complaining about everything-even my sexual prowess which as you know is pretty much nonpareil."

"That would be interesting to see and hear," I said, and I almost laughed.

"You should go back. I'd even step aside if I had to, at least for a while, while you two got back on track," he said.

"Thanks but no thanks," I said. "I'm not gonna be messin' with anymore of that swingin' shit. Once burned twice warned, as they say."

You're nuts to be thinkin' that way. Swinging if done right is a kick, and harmless.

"We did it wrong, like I said, but you have a lot to offer a woman, any woman. Your problem is you just don't believe it, or in yourself. Yeah you're short and your dick is short, but you have a lot of other shit going for you.

"Hell, all I got is my dick. Pardon me if I use it to get what I want. You could do the same with your attributes. You just gotta try and give and give yourself a chance, a little time."

"Yeah well thanks, but no thanks. I gave it a try and it backfired on me," I said.

"I hear your making it with one of the women we hired. That right?" he said.

"We're sharing a place, yeah, if it's any business of yours," I said.

"Yeah, well it's not, I know, but good luck. And, I still think you need to call Pam and set up a meet. But in lieu of that, like I say, good luck.

I will send my friend back here to save you," he said. And he did. I wondered how he knew about Tanya and me, but really, it didn't matter one way or the other

I was late getting back to the house. But the welcome I got was worth the wait.

In the afterglow of some truly sensational sex, she pinned me. "You gonna take his advice?" said Tanya.

"To call the bitch? Hell no," I said. "What would be the percentage in that? I am well rid of her. Besides, I've got you."

"Hmm, yeah, but for how long? I mean since you're not interested in getting hitched as you say," she said.

"Look, Tanya, my emotions are still pretty raw. I can't even begin to think about something like that, like marriage yet. It's only been a week," I said.

I began to think that I had to break it off with Tanya, and I wasn't sure why; and, then I was sure.

I'd been on the job since 6:00AM. I usually got home around three or four, but today-starving like an Ethiopian chicken-I was looking to scarf some of the leftover meatloaf in the frig. I headed home. It was just after noon. They were in the kitchen. I came in the back way; they didn't hear me.

Tanya was in the kitchen and she had a visitor: my old, supplied by Pam and Pollard, female friend of one night, Gloria Billings age 22. They were laughing.

"He's that bad?" said Gloria. "I mean when I did him that one time, he was boring, but he wasn't that bad."

"Exactly, he's boring as hell. Plus he's just not real inspiring in other respects. You know, short body, short dick, short attention span. If I could get him to think marriage, it wouldn't be so bad; I need a little security. This arrangement can't last forever. But, I guess so long as he's paying the bills I'll put up with it, but I sure would like something a little more permanent," said Tanya. Gloria laughed.

"Nothing like putting it where it is, girlfriend," said Gloria.

"Yeah, well he does make the moola. I aim to get as much of it as I can. I know he's got the money. I'm angling to get him to pay off bills outright; then, I could relax a little. At my age security is everything. You, you've got time; you're still a kid for chryssakes.

"Yeah, a kid maybe, but no fool. I'm looking for a little security too. Anyway, maybe we'll both get lucky one of these days. Here's hoping," I heard her say; probably raising her iced tea in an informal toast. They laughed.

So I was nothing to her. Well if so, I was gone. Sooner or later I'd be hooking up with an actual woman who actually loved me, and who actually might be well off on her own. Well, one could hope.

I decided to get it over with. I headed into the dinette. "Hello, girls, glad I caught you with your pants down. I'll be moving out right away, Tanya, then you can begin the hunt for someone a deal less boring," I said. I was smiling, broad and sincerely.

"Conrad! How long…"

"Long enough. I heard it all. I'm boring, useless in bed, but economically a keeper. Well, I was, now, no more," I said.

"But…"

"Look, Conrad, it was just girl talk. We girls always diss our guys-all of them. You guys do it to us, so don't get all huffy over a couple of tired broads talking a little meaningless smack about you, okay?" she said.

"Actually, Gloria, I appreciated what you said about me. It helps a little. But frankly, ladies, I need some things from my woman too. I'm not just some fucking money machine here to finance your dreams, Tanya. If I can't get a little respect, and a deal of sincere loving, then, I'm the hell outta here. Goodbye," I said. And I was, outta there that is.

I was sitting in my usual spot in the Calaboose bemoaning my miserable luck with the fairer sex.

Jerry, my favorite barkeep, noticed. "Whatcha thinkin' cowboy?" he said.

"Nothin', just meditating on the vicissitudes of fortune as regards my less than spectacular luck as relates to the opposite sex," I said.

"Huh? Was that English?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. He laughed.

"Yeah, ratchet it back a bit; you'll be upsetting the riff raff among us," he said.

"Consider it done," I said.

Why the hell couldn't I be gay for god's sake; I'd have a better chance at having a good relationship. The hetero thing wasn't working too good for me.

I had decisions to make. Pamela, Tanya, Gloria, all of them pretty much saw me as next to useless as a bed partner.

"Know any female woman who might be inclined to fall madly in love me, and I mean 'for' me?" I said. I was looking straight at Jerry when I said it.

"There's plenty of them around. But frankly, dude, none of them are going to be much in the market for someone with your emotional baggage. Get over those other ones and just start over. Everybody goes through shit like you are at some point. I'm still madly in love with my high school sweetheart, but she married way up in class from me. Oh, and I still shed a tear or two now and again over her," he said.

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah," he said. "If I had to do it over, I'd move to the Philippines and find me a hot momma and live the life of Riley," said Jerry.

"The Philippines?" I said.

"Yeah, my mom's from there. My dad was stationed at Subic Bay in the early eighties. She was a bar girl, real pretty; still is. Dad fell madly in lust with her, supported her while he was there; and, later married her. I came along in eighty-three.

We've all gone back a couple of times to meet mom's family and to have some fun. I'm here to tell you Filipina women are second to none when it comes to beauty and taking care of their men. I ain't shitin' yuh either," he said.

"Yeah, well maybe that's what I should do, just get outta Dodge; I mean way outta Dodge. The Philippines, you say?" I said.

"Yeah. Hell, if you decide to go, let me know. I can see to it you get put up for free and get you oriented to the country, maybe even help you get a job," he said.

"Oriented?" I said.

"Yeah, some stuff you gotta be aware of if you've never been over there," he said. "But, once you get the hang of it; it's fantastic. Seriously," he said.

"Yeah, well, I'll keep it in mind. Can't be much worse than the situation I've fucking been in here," I said.

"Freakin'-A." he said.

Later: I had in fact talked to Jerry, I had in fact met his mom-who was indeed a forty-nine year old hottie-and I am in fact currently seated in 2C, United Air, on my way to Manila.

Yeah, I quit my job. Cleaned out my accounts and created a new one. I was sitting on roughly five-point-five million Philippine pesos, $141K American; and, I had a job interview with some guy named Romy Gilchrist, an American ex-pat builder who had once been one of Clea Moncrief's lovers. Clea is of course Jerry's hottie momma.

Things were looking up. And, I wasn't looking back. Crazy? Maybe, but I needed to do it.

I figured I'd be able to catch on with Gilchrist Construction in some capacity, but of course until that first paycheck came streaming in, it was not a done deal. But, then it was.

Jerry'd not been lying. Mister Gilchrist, a huge hunk of a man: six-three and two-eighty at least, met me at the plane. He put me up in the El Presidente, gave me a tour of the city the next day, oriented me to my new duties during the rest of the week, and got drunk with me on Friday night. The pay? Fifty gees. It was enough for me. And I got on with living, and what a life it would turn out to be!

It was a month later, and another Friday night at the Global, my eighty-proof hangout. "So your marriage imploded," said Romy Gilchrist.

"Yeah, I guess that's the way to describe it. She had a lover that she expected me to be okay with, on the side, as she put it. I actually tried, idiot that I was, but in the end I got my head outta my ass and just cut country-literally. Well, here I am," I said.

"Yeah, and I'm glad to have you on board. Anyway…

"So, have any of the local females got you in their sights?" he said.

"Huh?" I said. He laughed. "I've only been here a week."

"I guess not then. But they will. A word of advice. Be real careful. You're prime cut American beef. And the girls-let alone the women-will be on you like confetti right soon," he said.

"No, I don't think so," I said. "My wife left little doubt in my mind that I was less than useful as a man. I will not be in the hunt for female companionship in anything like the near future." He laughed again.

"You could be built like Quasimodo and sport a two-inch dick; you're still gonna be under sexual fire right soon, trust me," he said.

"Yeah, right," I said. And, now I laughed.

"You've got an American passport, and you make good money, for here. Again, you really are prime cut," he said.

"Well, if I were to hook up with some girl or woman, it would have to be for something other than those kinds of things. I'm not into gold diggers. Actually, when one gets right down to it, my income is the main reason my wife didn't dump me outright; I'm sure of it," I said. He snickered.

"There's worse things than having a wife who chose one's money making ability over one's sexual prowess or amazing good looks. Both of those latter two things fade with time. Intelligence and work ethic do not. You might want to think about that," he said. "I speak from broad experience."

"Hmm, maybe," I said.

"My current wife married me for my money. I know it; well, that and my American passport; she's got her green card now. She only got that so we could travel some: she doesn't care about being an American per se though eventually she may have to. Can't be a green card holder forever. She treats me right, and only cheats on me occasionally; I keep a blind eye to it-the guy's her childhood boyfriend; I had him checked out. He's poor, but okay otherwise.

"And that doesn't bother you?' I said.

"Not unduly so. She doesn't know I know and takes great pains not to rub my nose in it; she knows that that would be the kiss of death for us," he said.

"Again, why doesn't it bother you. I mean-she's cheating." I said.

"Technically, but no it doesn't bother me. I'm twenty years older than she is; she simply needs the occasional younger dick. And, Like I say; she treats me right and doesn't deny me when I need it. That's enough for me," he said. I had to smile.

"Well, I can't say I feel the same about that kind of stuff. But, anyway, my wife and I are the same age, so your situation is not the same thing," I said. He shrugged.

She was sitting at the dinette table stirring her coffee. "He's been gone a year," she said.

"Look, Pamela, he's gone and he's gone for good that's obvious. You need to get with the program, divorce him, marry me, and live happily ever after," said Ronald Pollard. She snickered.

"Unless he's proven to be dead, I am not marrying anybody else. No matter what anybody thinks-including him-I love him and I want to grow old with him. But, if I was inclined to marry someone else, Ron, it'd be you," she said, smiling. He didn't return the smile.

"Pam, I liked the guy too. I think he's an idiot for shining you on. Frankly I can't believe he did that, no way is he going to find your equal," he said. "But, he did do it, shine you on; and now it's time to think about the future.

"Anyway, I'm here for you, and I always will be," he said.

"Thanks," she said. "And, I do thank you for being there for me. I don't know what I do without you." Now he did smile.

Time waits for no one, and it sure as hell wasn't waiting for me. It was my five years anniversary of my having left my wife. I had a date with Romy at 6:00PM to celebrate, but that was still a few hours off.

"Yes, my name is Lisa," said the very pretty maybe twenty-something as she put my JD on the rocks down in front of me. She was the new early show bartender, so she said.

"Conrad," I said introducing myself.

We talked for some little time since I was the only customer in the place at the moment: it was just past 3:00PM. It was Saturday, and I was off.

I'd been in The Typhoon Bar and Grill several times, it was Aussie owned but Filipino run and staffed. It had the virtue of being open twenty-four hours: a major plus in my book.

This was the first time I'd actually had a serious conversation with any of the barkeeps or waitresses that I'd so far met. Lisa was different. I was interested in her. I was maybe fifteen years her senior, but as for that I really didn't know.

As it got time for me to head out-I had told the boss I'd meet him at a different place at 6:00PM; I finished up my drink and said goodbye to Lisa and that reluctantly; well, she was a dolly.

From our conversation I'd learned she was poor, not married, supporting three sibling brothers and her parents, and she could be had for twenty dollars American per hour if I decided I was interested. Well, it was the way things were in Quezon City these days.

I actually considered her offer. I hadn't been laid in quite a while, and I was horny as hell. Make it with a prostitute? Well, why the hell not. Besides, Lisa, was one heckuva turn on. I'd be thinkin' on it.

And, I did think on it, and I did take her out, and I did fuck her for pay, and she was wonderful, or, maybe it was just because it had been six months since the last time I'd dipped my wick.

As she was getting put together to leave, I noticed she seemed kinda somber, down.

"You okay, girl?" I said. And then she began to cry. I got the truth this time, and it did turn out to be the truth as I later learned from her mom.

She was indeed a new bartender, and she was indeed a whore-but-a new one of those too. I'd been her first trick! I was flabbergasted.

Romy's warning came back to haunt me. But, no, this girl was for real. Not just some Filipina gold digger setting her sights on a semi-depressed American ex-pat.

After that first go 'round, I began dating, not hiring, her for real. I met her family on the second date and saw to it that they, her family, were taken care of financially for the near term. Her thanks were way over the top and kinda made me feel like a hero.

Problem was, as Romy had indicated might happen, she seemed to have a hundred relatives all desperately poor. I couldn't pay all of their ways. And, then I had a problem; she asked me to marry her. The good news was that I was pretty sure that I was still married, but as for that, I really wasn't sure. I knew that Pamela had no idea where I was, so maybe she had dumped me for abandonment.

It was good news because I didn't want to get married. But I did want to keep seeing Lisa, and I did want to help her. I found myself looking to Romy for advice.

We'd been on the job all day, and we were cranking it up for Miller Time.

"So you let her get her hooks into you," he said, laughing.

"You could say that," I said. "But, I am well aware of what's going on, and she isn't trying to pull any wool over my eyes or anything like that. But, that said, on the downside I haven't got the scratch to pay the way for her entire family corps."

"How bad do you want to help them?" he said.

"Bad enough. But, I'm not willing to go into the poor house to do it," I said.

"Any of them educated. Any of them have any business sense?" he said.

"Yeah, her brother Reynaldo and his wife seem pretty sharp. I've met them several times at family dos of hers," I said. Romy nodded.

"Buy a business, or, put one together for them, and let them have it and earn their own way. Kind of teachin' them how to fish instead of giving them a fish that you caught yourself," he said. I gave him a look, as understanding of what he was saying sank in.

"You know, that just might be the way to go with them. But what kind of business?" I said.

"I have a friend who is leaving the PI next month. He has a water company, kinda one of those Sparklets thingys, that he has to sell and so far no takers. You could probably get it cheap enough and put all of her relatives to work," he said.

"What about the employees that are already working there?" I said.

"Aren't any anymore. He shut the operation down three months ago. Just change the name of the company, pay the necessary bribes for the business to start up, and let your girlfriend have it. Just tell her that you are done with the outright handouts, and that now the family has to make a go of it on their own." I know other guys who've done it, and it's worked for them," he said. He gave me the guy's number. I called it the next day.

Over the next few days, I met the guy selling the business, and bought him out for twenty-five grand U.S. The same night we'd signed everything, I called Lisa and asked her to bring her brother Reynaldo with her. She'd tried to question me, but I put her off saying that he would be in good to come with her. She'd kinda reluctantly agreed to do as I asked.

The Typhoon was busy, but I had a table for four, and it was far enough back from the bandstand that I was pretty sure that we would be able to hear ourselves talk. I saw them come in.

"Hi, Reynaldo," I said. "Glad you could make it."

"Thank you, sir Conrad," he said.

"Sir Conrad?" she said. She was real interested in why I wanted her relative to come on a date I had with her." Oh, and she was always calling me sir even though I had asked her not to a hundred times; it's a Filipino thing I'd later discovered…

"Yes, Lily, I'll get right to it. I've bought a business. I'm giving it to you. I suggest that you hire Reynaldo here to run it for you. You can be in charge of hiring the help: members of your family I should expect.," I said.

"What!" she said.

"Yes, it's a water purification, sales, and delivery service. It did almost a quarter million American in business last year. The guy who I bought it from is a statesider who's decided to go home.

"Was that the King Water Company?" said Reynaldo. He looked interested.

"Yes, yes it is, was, whatever," I said.

"I know the company. I delivered for it before it went out of business a couple of months ago. That's the job I lost, Lily," he said.

This was getting interesting.

"Really?" she said.

"Yes," he said.

"Good, so maybe getting some of your customers back will be easier than I thought?" I said.

"Yes," he said.

We talked for a long time. I explained the reason I wanted to do this and why I wouldn't be just handing out cash any longer. I was thrilled to discover that both Lily and her brother were in favor of the deal. And the deal? We closed it the next day at a lawyer's office.

The sex that night was very very good. I took her missionary twice and doggy once. God she was a good piece. We lay breasts heaving for some little time.

"You're wonderful," she said. I smiled my thanks for her thanks, but in the back of my mind all I could think of was the five years that I had not seen my wife. I made a tentative decision to rectify that little reality.

I hit the send key. The email would be there when she woke up in the morning.

She was clicking her cell phone searching her email. "Sweet Jesus, Ronald! It's him!" she screamed.

"Who?" he said. But, he know who "who" was.

She was reading furiously ignoring the man across from her at the breakfast table.

She handed him the phone. His eyes got big. "He's in fucking Manila for chryssakes!" he said.

"Call the airlines," she said. "Find out how much a ticket to Manila costs." She shook his head.

"We need to talk about this first," he said.

"Talk schmalk!" she said. "We're going. We're bringing him back, and there is no two ways about it."

"And, what if he simply won't come back? We can't make him, Pamela, much as we might want him to," he said. "All he says here, really, is that he misses you, and wishes that things had been different. But, they're not different," he said. She sagged back in her seat.

"Yes, well, we simply have to convince him that he's loved, wanted, and better off with us than over there with a bunch of foreigners," she said.

"They might be foreigners, Pam; but there are undoubtedly many there that are his friends now. He may not feel at all out of place there. I mean it's been five years!"

She nodded. "Yes, I know. But we're going. Please call and find out how much it would cost us. Please. I mean now," she said. He shrugged.

"Okay," he said. She watched him dial. He talked for several minutes to the person at the travel agency that he knew fairly well. He hung up.

"It'll cost $1,641 round trip-each," he said. She started at the high price.

"You have money on tap now since the sales, right?" she said. She knew he had liquidated some of his properties, and they hadn't touched any of the money gotten from those sales so far. He'd been thinking about investing in government paper as a hedge against the miserable economy.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. She rose and headed upstairs. "But, that money is supposed to go for our retirement." She ignored him.

"Come on we gotta pack. But first call 'em back and make arrangements for the first flight out," she said. He did as she said.

The airport was newer than he remembered from his one trip to the Philippines some twenty years before. That had been a graduation present from his grandma: round trip ticket to anywhere he wanted to go in the world. He'd chosen the Philippines then: it'd been the recommendation of his dad, and he'd been glad he'd chosen the PI. But, this trip was a totally different thing.

He was a man sleeping with another man's wife, and hoping to get the cuckolded hubby to be okay with it. He knew it was going to be a futile attempt, a complete waste of time and money, but his woman was sure she could convince the guy to acquiesce. They just had to do it right, approach it right, and she was certain that she knew how to make it happen. All they had to do, according to her, was to get him to listen calmly quietly to her arguments. "Yeah right!" he said out loud.

"What?" she said.

"Nothing," he said. "And we need to hire a cab or a driver." She nodded. "No outsider with any brains drives a car in Manila.

She broke the hug. I was flustered. "Uh-you two-how… " I said.

"You sent it from your company computer, Conrad. The letter had an address and phone number at the bottom," she said. Of course. That's how they had found me. But also of course, I had not expected them to come seven thousand miles to try!

Or, had I. Maybe subconsciously I'd hoped. But, and it was a big but, he'd come along too. I certainly had not been hoping for that consciously or subconsciously.

"And you, Mr. Pollard? You here to spread your pollen in the PI?" I said.

"No, Conrad. I'm here because she begged me to come. She-we're-on a mission," he said.

"A mission?" I said.

"Yes, Conrad, we are," said Pamela. "Two missions actually."

"And those might be?" I said.

"To get you to sit down and talk with me-us. And, that accomplished, to help you pack for the flight back to the states, back home," she said. I leaned back against the office's door jamb.

"And you, the both of you, are of the opinion that anything you could say would make me willing to go back with you; I mean with the both of you," I said.

"No, well, that is not until we talked. But, that said, after we've talked? Yes," she said. I nodded.

"You going to let us make our case?" said Pamela. I just stared at the two of them.

"Conrad, we'll buy the meal. Anywhere you choose. We've come a long way. Just got in last night. We haven't even eaten yet, our last food was a couple of thousand miles ago. Just had some coffee this morning, a half hour ago. Please, whaddya say?" said Ronald Pollard.

"I haven't eaten either. I guess, if you're payin', breakfast would be good. I have to admit to being curious as to how my own personal cuckolder team would think that they could convince me to return to a situation that I have come all this way to get away from," I said. The two of them nodded.

"We understand," said Pamela. I stared at her once again, boy did she look pretty. She had to have gotten up real early to look this good at 8:30 in the morning.

The Typhoon had a smattering of customers mostly out on the patio sipping their morning brews.

The food in front of us, nobody was talking. I shrugged and began eating. My two visitors followed suit.

I waited. It was their show.

"I guess I should begin," said Pamela. I shrugged again. She took it as a signal to start her spiel.

"First of all, Conrad, I want to thank you for being willing to sit down with us. It saves us the trouble of having to tie you up and gag you," she said, and laughed.

"Yes, well, I guess I should feel lucky then shouldn't I," I said. She snickered.

"A couple of things. Ron and I both came because I felt the need to double team you. Yes, I know, we tried that before and it didn't work out like I hoped it might.

"Secondly, it is my considered judgment that you don't realize just how much you are loved and needed and wanted and that sexually as well as in other respects, and all of that by me. Hence, it shall be my job to convince you of such. Are you with me so far?" she said.

"If that's your main plan, you're going to fail because I simply will not believe that you care an iota about me sexually. In other respects, as you say, maybe; but sexually? Hardly," I said.

"Hmm, maybe," she said. "Well, and no sex not the main thing, but it is important, and it is true. No, the main thing is something you said, did, yourself. You emailed me after five years. You likely knew, not suspected, but knew that I was still doing it with Ron, or somebody. I could never go without sex for five years. And, I am more than persuaded that you haven't."

"Okay," I said.

"Good. Is she pretty?" said Pamela.

"Yes, but she and I are casual not in love. And, there have been a few others, one night stands. So, now, are we done with true confessions?" I said.

"With the true confessions? Yes," she said.

"Conrad, what your wife and I do is not purely recreational. Not anymore. She loves me. She loves you more, but she loves me too. We need to get that understood here from the gitgo," said Pollard. I looked down. "I can live with it, because I'm the original pragmatist. I love her pussy among other things. And, I especially love being able to satisfy her. It's tough for a man to get a woman off every time, but Pamela-every time we do it."

I knew that what he said was a true thing. They'd been together one way or another for too long for it to not have happened. Hell, for five years I had been totally out of the picture.

"So why do either of you need me?" I said. "If you love each other, I'm just guy who's in the way, a third wheel is the analogue I think."

"Why do you think we came all this way to get you to come back. To be my husband again," said Pamela.

"Truthfully? To get me to pay the bills?" I said.

The other man pulled out an envelope that he'd had inside his jacket and pushed it toward me. I looked him askance.

I opened it. It was a bank statement. Checking account; savings account; CDs, five of them: collectively $783,000 and change. "I sold some houses," he said. I lost some money on some of the deals, but overall I'm still solvent, and I have some rental properties still on the books that I'm holding onto," he said. "I don't need your money, Conrad. Nor does she. If after we leave here, you decide not to come home; she will divorce you, or you her, and I will marry her myself. Frankly, five years of listening to her cry over your picture is long enough."

I nodded. This did put a new wrinkle in the mix. "You were crying over my picture?" I said, looking at my wife. She nodded and was clearly on the verge of tears as we spoke.

"Okay, all of this being true, and I guess that I have to grant that it looks like it is, the question still remains why do you need me?"

"Damn it, Conrad, Ron already told you. Because, dear heart, I love you more than anything or anybody. Yes, I need-well want-his big cock to pleasure me. And, he's right, I do love him too. Can't deny it. Can't give him up. What I can do, is make it more than worth your while to allow me to do my thing with Ronald, while at the same time doing my level best to make you happier than you have ever been," she said.

"So, then the question becomes can I live with being a willing cuckold. Can I expect that what would likely be truly sensational sex make such a life palatable to me?

"Basically, yes," said Ronald.

"Have you moved in with her?" I said.

"No. I stay over a lot, but I have my own place and she has your house: yours and hers," he said. I nodded, I had to think.

We'd talked for two hours straight. In the end we'd adjourned to come back the next day and figure it out.

I was sitting outside on the patio waiting for them. They were early, but I was earlier.

"Hi," I said. My tone seemed to calm them.

"Hi, stud," said my wife; she was still that. I frowned.

"I'm no stud. You've made that plain enough, the both of you, so no more nonsense, okay?" I said.

"Okay, Conrad, no offense, I was just trying to be-I don't know-nice I guess," she said.

"How we doin'," said Ronald, speaking for the first time, defusing things.

"Maybe okay," I said. Just them Jose brought us the coffee I'd ordered in advance for the arrival of my guests.

"Thanks," said Ronald to the retreating waiter.

"Maybe okay?" said Ronald. Pamela was listening intensely to the exchange.

"This is the deal," I said. "I'm coming home. I'm coming back to you, Pam. And-Jesus this is hard-and I will be your willing cuckold. But, and it's a big but, I get first dibs on your pussy anytime I want it. No more limiting me to just during the week. I'm gonna be wanting it on weekend days too. Oh, you and Ron here will have plenty of opportunities to get it on with each other. But, I get first refusal whenever and wherever."

"Okay," said Pam, tentatively. "But? There's a but in there somewhere that you haven't mentioned yet, right?"

"But, I'm keeping my girlfriend here in the PI, and I will be commuting back and forth here every couple of months. When I'm here, I will be running a business I'm going to start up with an Aussie friend of mine. My girlfriend will be our front to get around the limitations on foreigners owning PI businesses outright. My pal and I will be alternating resident managers. He and I will each be taking forty percent of the action and my girlfriend, who will be the nominal owner, will be drawing down the remaining twenty percent," I said.

"What business?" said Ronald.

"Fast food. Filipinos love the stuff," I said.

"Would you consider a third managing partner?" he said. I looked askance at him.

"Maybe," I said. "I'd have to ask my bud." He nodded.

"I should say the buyin's half a mother-in-law," I said. He didn't bat an eyelash.

"No problem," said Ronald.

And we did form the partnership. We initially put up six outlets around Manila and Quezon City, on the island of Luzon; there were going to be more.

It turned out that each of us would plan to spend four months a year in the PI, and overlap each other for a minimum of two weeks to make the transition each time. We were more than successful.

After a year we'd each netted close to a million American in profits; and Lisa and her family had never dreamed of living better. And, as it turned out; she and her brother Reynaldo were excellent at doing the political thing: a necessity in the PI. She was still my girl but she was also dating an army colonel on the side. This on the side shit was getting to be something else, at least in my humble opinion.

And Pamela? When I was gone she would be with him exclusively and vice versa. And when we were both home; I got the bigger slice of the action-good for my ego.

Yes, our set up was anything but conventional, but so what. We didn't need anybody's permission. And, even I was getting to see the advantage to me in the arrangement. Our sex lives had never been so fantastic.

Ronald and I got along just fine thank you very much; and, Romy was more than helpful in that regard.

Things were working out.

-----------------------------

   Series:Convicted
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:He's a tough guy with a whore for a wife, who is also the love of his life.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/73848/convicted
Published:2013-04-08
"Arthur Reardon, You have been found guilty of aggravated mayhem by a jury of your peers. You are hereby sentenced to ten years imprisonment, that, to be served in an institution to be determined by the appropriate agency of the State Bureau of Prisons," said the judge.

The gavel sounded and I was a convict. I was stood up, cuffed to a waist chain, and my ankles shackled. I glanced back at Rhena, my wife, who stood but a few feet behind me in the first row. Her face was ashen. She mouthed some words at me.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I am so very sorry." As well she might have been.

Her lover, Brad Kursk, her boss at the Kursk Insurance Agency (KIA), had spent a good three months in the hospital: the result of me catching her with him in our bed and the fight that had ensued. It might not have been so bad for me, had I not kept pounding on him after he was essentially done. Well, I was angry-really really angry.

My lawyer had tried to sell the jury on the fact that I'd lost it, was temporarily insane; but, in the end the photographs of the cheating bastard in traction did me in. Too bad I didn't have photos of him banging her in my marital bed; that would have been more than a mitigating circumstance in my opinion.

Rhena and I had met and dated in high school, were separated when we graduated and went our separate ways to college: she to State University majoring in Business, me to Hardin Industrial Institute to be an electrician. We returned to Clark City, Mizzou, some thirteen months apart, and as fate would have it, reignited our relationship at a concert held at our old high school and fisponsored by the school's parent teacher organization. We were married eighteen months later. She was twenty-five, me twenty-six.

We set up housekeeping in a small three bedroom place in town that her grandma had left her, and we were off and running in the race of life.

She had signed on at KIA almost immediately after having graduated from college. I, on the other hand, had had to work freelance for a little while until a buddy of mine got me hooked up with a union shop in town, Halstead Construction. But all's well that ends well, and once employed I made really good bucks working mostly on highrise projects that required pretty sophisticated wiring and related security stuff.

We were happy, the both of us. No doubt about that. But happy people seem to draw a lot of flies and wannabes who aren't themselves satisfied with their situations.

Money evidently had not been enough for Brad Kursk, and he had plenty of that. He was known to have tasted the sexual favors of any number of married or committed women and been responsible for at least three divorces-and-rumor had it, one suicide as a result of his proclivities.

Good 'ole Brad, as I later discovered, had the hots for Rhena and had expended some significant energy in trying to seduce her. But, as indicated, I had had not a clue until the three of us had run into each other at a public auction were Rhena and I were looking to find ourselves a newer model car at bargain basement prices. Fortuitously, as I thought at the time, Brad was at the auction not to buy, but to sell. You guessed it, two newer model cars.

Discovering our reason for being where we were, he put but one of his cars up for auction. His other vehicle, a 2008 Ford one ton, he virtually gave to us. We paid a total of three thousand dollars including costs. I was ecstatic. Brad was even more ecstatic. He was more than certain that, what amounted to his largesse, was naught but a free pass into my wife's pants. It turned out that he was right to be confident. So why was a ladies man of Brad's obvious talents so interested in my wife? Well, the obvious of course.

Rhena wasn't good looking, oh no, she was shockingly good looking. Five-nine, slim, flaming red hair, the bright freckled complexion of a teenager, 34Bs, a bubble butt, and a personality that commanded not only the attention but the obedience of any male she deigned to cast her glance upon. Oh no, she was born to be the target of men like Brad Kursk.

And what about me? Well, I sure as hell ain't chopped liver. Five-ten, one-seventy; most of my hair still with me; athlete in high school, football (defensive back) ; and college, boxing, where I was state middleweight champion in my junior year. My dad had been a pug, did a lot of club stuff, and I almost went the same route; but he, my dad, wasn't having any of that; so, my second love, electronics, became my passion. Well, I was good at it.

Rhena did visit me once while I was in county. She cried a little and then told me that she wouldn't be coming up to see me anymore. Her reason? She couldn't stand to see me like that. I didn't protest. I figured the marriage was toast anyway. She didn't love me. She couldn't have doing what she been doing with that guy.

"Arthur, I love you, no matter what you think," she said. "Please try to understand. Kursk is not replacing you in my heart. He was just a mistake. Just a guy I made a mistake with. I take full responsibility for what happened. But, again, I just can't come here and see you like this. I just can't."

"Whatever, Rhena, Don't be frettin' yourself. I did the crime so I'll do the time. I don't blame you for that. I do blame you though for not being faithful to our marriage, your vows. I'll be a long time gettin' over that," I said. She cried at my words.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, really I am," she said. I nodded.

"Yeah, well, whatever," I said.

We talked a little longer; then, she was gone. It would be a long time before I would see her again, and that, having not heard from her even once during that long time.

The trip up to the penitentiary was a long one. I had a chance to meditate on how I'd ended up behind bars; and, I made plans as to how I would deal with my current situation. What I might do when I got out, I had not a clue. Realistically, I figured that that, getting out, would be in about six or seven years with good behavior. That'd make me thirty-six or thirty-seven years old. I'd still be young enough to make a life for myself. I sighed. A half dozen years-if I were lucky!

My first couple of days at state were mainly orientation, vaccination, uniform distribution, and an interview with a psychologist. Then, it was off to my place of residence for the next several years.

My cellmate, Demetrius Untalan, was a black man. And, no, he wasn't any three-hundred pound gorilla; he was about my size-five-nine or ten and one-seventy. And, as it turned out, he was in for the same thing I was: messing up the guy doing his wife, damn near killed him was the way Dem told it. Oh, and he didn't have a lot of remorse. But, maybe oddly, he didn't really blame the guy; he blamed her. He beat the shit out of the guy, but that was just a case of him taking out on him what he just couldn't bring himself to do to her. I figured he and I would have a lot to talk about as time went on.

The first day or two after orientation and processing went okay. Well, as okay as it would ever get. The nights were bad. All I thought about was Rhena. I needed the cheating bitch; I needed her bad. And, in the deepest darkest part of the night, I cried. I didn't make any noise. No one had to tell me to shut up. I just suffered mentally and alone.

On day four, I had the second of the two showers I would get each week. I also had the snot beat outta me by big Ben Whitcomb and two of his associates, all of them twice my size. I got a few shots in, but not nearly enough to slow down the group of them. After which, I sucked his cock. I was told to expect to have to do it whenever the mood struck him. Tell the guards? Demetrius informed me that doing so would find me impaled on some guy's shiv. Ratting out the baddies and the bullies was unacceptable at state.

Over the next several months I was raped twice, forced to suck Ben Whitcomb's cock a dozen times at least, and generally degraded and humiliated beyond anything I'd ever read or heard of. My thoughts of my wife and her lover turned acidic: I hated them. I blamed them for everything. Yeah, yeah, I know, I shoulda just dumped her cheating ass and built myself a new life when I discovered them, but I didn't.

But, then, a few months and a couple more rapes later, it stopped; the sexual assaults on me by Whitcomb stopped, and not because of anything I did or said.

Sean Riley, a huge six-six, and easily three-fifty Irishman and ex pug himself, saved me. Sean was, as it turned out, ultra-religious. He led a small, but physically large, cadre of fellow godly types-maybe a dozen men. Their mission was to put an end the worst of the inmate-on-inmate-brutality in our block. I joined their group and finally my fists and speed became useful: I backed up our crew any number of times and was able to give a good enough account of myself. As a result, I more or less became Sean's right hand man. I swore that someday I'd pay him back for his help.

Time passed, and again, true to her word, I never saw or heard from my wife. She hadn't divorced me. I knew that, or I would have gotten the bad news-I guess it would have been bad news-that I had been. I was into year five when something happened that gave purpose to my existence.

At meals I invariably sat near Sean and the others-self-preservation being what it was. Same for Demetrius, who I'd been able to bring into crew membership. Over time I got Sean's story. He was in for attempted murder. Some druggie had hooked his wife and his preteen kid-there'd also been a six year old. His wife ended up fucking the man for product though Sean didn't know that at the time.

Sean'd done everything to get his wife and kid off the stuff including getting them-his wife and older kid- arrested. But, they'd gotten out; she'd gotten a headhunter for a lawyer, filed for divorce, and destroyed their family. He'd stewed for months after the divorce; then, he'd heard that his wife-his ex-wife at that point-was doing the guy. He'd gone looking for them, had caught them together; and, like Demetrius and myself, had done the guy great bodily harm. Now, Sean was doing a hard twenty.

We were eating. As he munched down on a roll, Whitcomb came strolling by. I got a dirty look, but he didn't try to go eye-to eye with Sean; nobody in the joint was wanting to do that on purpose let alone in our block.

We were about to leave the mess hall when Sean caught up with me on the way to the yard. "Got a minute," he said.

"For you? Is that a serious question?" I said.

We took a walk around the makeshift track that some of the inmates used to stay in shape.

"Arthur, I've been in this damn place for almost sixteen years, and I'm gonna be forty-five in a couple of months, and I'll be fifty by the time I fly outta here. Anyway, I'm told that you're up for an early parole," he said.

I looked him askance. "And, you know this how?" I said. I hadn't heard word one, but if Sean said it, it was likely true.

"I've got sources," he said. "Both outside and inside. Arthur, I'm gonna ask you for a little favor. Would that be all right?" I nodded.

"Of course," I said.

"It's been so long for me, but I dream about my woman every night; and my girls morning, noon, and night! So like I said, I need a favor."

"Name it," I said.

"Well, as you know, my wife divorced me. My kids, well, they were young when I went inside: six and twelve actually. They're grown now, probably have families of their own; I hope they do. They've never visited me or written or anything; so, I have no way of knowing anything about them. I wonder if you'd maybe, well, maybe be able to find out a little about them. You know let me know how they're doing. I really need to know," he said.

"Sean, absolutely. I owe you. I'll get you what you need. I promise," I said. "I mean if I do get out before you." He smiled.

"You will," he said. And I did. Not only did I get out, I got out free and clear: no parole requirements. I'd done my time, and if I kept my nose clean I'd not be going back-ever!

The bus deposited me in front of the bank in my old home town. Nobody was there to greet me. Well, and why would they be. I'd told nobody I was coming back. And, truth be told I wasn't sure until my last day inside that I would be, coming back to my old haunts that is. But, with Sean coming from a town only fifty miles up state; well, it was a no brainer.

The Blue Collar was a bar I'd stopped at a few times in the distant past: it was across the street, well, catty-corner, to the bank. I stopped there now. I had close to three hundred and fifty dollars in my pocket, a small tube bag with my worldly possessions in it, and absolutely nothing else. I was not quite thirty-six and starting over, helluva note. I'd be needing a job.

The barkeep, a young guy, approached. I ordered, and a yellow pepsi appeared thirty seconds later. God it tasted good. My first drink in goin' on six years. I surveyed the place. Hadn't changed much. Some newer tables, a more up to date music machine, and of course the new bartender-well- new to me.

I signaled Danny, that's what his name badge said, and ordered my second brew.

"You new around here?" he said, setting the beer down in front of me, and I guess thinking to be sociable.

"Not exactly. New again, as you might say," I said. He nodded, looked me in the eyes, and smiled. He seemed to have gotten something. "Just get out?" I looked at him and snickered.

"Yeah. Is it that obvious?" I said.

"Spent a little time inside myself," he said. I gave him a questioning look.

"I'm a little older than I look," he said. "Did a year and a half, and got paroled. I'm cool now." He saw the unvoiced question in my look. "Breaking and entering and simple robbery. Three years." I nodded.

"Say, you know if anyone around here is hiring?" I said.

"Full time or part time?" he said.

"Well, I need a job. Full time would be better, but… " I started.

"We're hiring here. Pay ain't the greatest, but the work is steady, and the tips can be pretty good sometimes. You know anything about booze?" he said. I smiled, but didn't answer his question right away.

"No offense, but you look kinda young to be offering jobs to people," I said.

"I'm thirty-one and I own the place," he said. "Well, my wife Pamela actually. She's a great lady and stuck by me when I was inside. Being a con, I couldn't get a liquor license of course, at least not while I was on parole; but, she had no such problem."

"Really. But, if you needed money bad enough to rob some place…?" I started.

"Well, we did at the time, but she makes pretty good bread now, and while I was inside, she was able to save enough to get this place and the license."

"Wow! Talk about a lucky stiff. You gotta be the poster boy," I said.

"Yeah, I guess you could make a case for that," he said.

"So what does your wife do?" I said.

"She's an escort," he said. I was sure my surprise-no shock-was showing. He laughed.

"What can I say? It works for us," he said.

"But, if the law catches up with her… " I said.

"No, no, what she does is legal. She's quite the looker, and men flock to her just to be around her. Oh, she gives it up now and again, goes with the territory. Mainly to keep her high end clients on the hook; but, never for money per se, I mean not directly: no cash ever changes hands" he said.

"And you're okay with her-you know," I started.

"Sure, she always comes home to me, and has never given me reason to believe that she's been emotionally involved with any of them, her customers," he said. I was nodding.

"Okay," I said. "But, to answer your question from before, I know how to mix most normal drinks. I'd need a book to put together, say, a Singapore Sling and the like." He smiled again.

"No problem, then," he said, "you're hired. You start tonight." And I did. And I only broke one glass-a beer glass; nothing was said.

My day off was Monday-yeah only one day off. But since I worked the 5pm to 2am shift the other six days; I did have my days free. This last fact would be working for me. Plus, I didn't complain; I was gettin' eight bucks an hour and all my tips were mine. Hey, it's a living. I'm pulling down four and a half most weeks with tips.

Danny, Danny Williams, as it turned out, gave me a place to shack up temporarily. His house had a small room for the odd guest above the garage. He let me have it gratis for the week, that until I could find me a place and generally get settled in.

My first day above the garage, was interesting. I met Pamela Williams. She was indeed a looker. Five-five, and not a pound over one-o-five; and, a dazzling figure. Hell, I'd have paid to have her escort me for damn sure.

"So, you're our new houseguest," said Pamela.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "Danny was good enough to help me out. Things are a little tight right at the moment. You know financially." She nodded.

"Well, that's okay. I think you'll like working at the collar. The neighborhood folks are friendly, and business is pretty good," she said.

"Well, thank you ma'am, I appreciate you guys helping out, like I said," I said.

"Oh pooh, Danny needs the help, and you strike me as the kind of guy who will do a good job. And, I'm a pretty good judge of character," said Pamela.

We talked for a few more minutes, and then she showed me around, and finally left me to my own devices. I decided that I liked the Williams' family.

I found a place walking distance from the bar on my second Monday off: $350 which included the basic utilities; it wasn't much of a place for damn sure, but it suited me. Danny fronted me the money for the first and last month's rent, so I was able to hold on to my meager funds for food and such. Also on that first day, I did some checking to see if I could locate Sean's kids-and- his wife. When I went to see the guy, Sean, which I fully intended to do, I would not be going empty handed. Little did I know just how true that thought was going to prove to be.

Armed with Sean's old address, I began my search. Luck was with me. She still lived in the same house she and Sean had shared sixteen years gone.

I hesitated before going up to the door and knocking. But, at length I went. A tallish, middle aged woman, still attractive and slim answered the door.

"Yes, can I help you?" she said.

"Marissa Riley?" I said.

"Yes?" she said.

My name's Arthur, Arthur Reardon," I said. "I'm, well, I'm a friend of Sean's."

Her face darkened. "He and I are done. If you know him, you must know that. So, if you'll excuse me…"

"Mrs. Riley, if I may, I'm not here to cause you any embarrassment or difficulty. But, well, Sean saved me in the joint, and I promised I'd at least try to get him word about you and his children if I could. Could I-would it be all right if… " She sighed, stepped back, and opened the door wider so I could enter.

Ten minutes later, coffee on the kitchen table in front us, the two of us, I got the story. Sean had told it straight. She had been screwed and screwed over by a druggie. And, the final bit of news: his elder daughter, Claire Riley, then twelve years old, had OD'd and died not a month after Sean had gone inside.

"So you see Mr. Reardon, going to see Sean or even writing him is a non-happening. I couldn't bring myself to face him after our Claire died, and I still can't," she said.

"Mrs. Riley, I can't speak for Sean; but he is a God fearing man who knows how to forgive. Yes, it will hurt him real bad to hear about your daughter, but he is going to hear about it sooner or later anyway. In my opinion it would be better coming from you than from anyone else. I have to believe you know that," I said. She nodded.

"Mr. Reardon, I'm a weak woman that's why it was so easy for those dealers to trap me, and, for me to allow my daughter to get involved. Do you know that Calvin Johnson, the dealer who Sean caught me in bed with, also fucked our daughter. It was part of the price for getting the free ice. Sean is in prison, yes; but I'm in prison too, Mr. Reardon; and my sentence, my punishment, is for life. I actually need Sean, but I can never have him because I killed our baby. Oh, I didn't actually give her the dose that killed her, but it was my fault right enough, all my fault."

"Mrs. Riley, I'm not here to judge anybody. But, bad things sometimes happen to good people. It's life. You need to go see Sean, tell him the story, and let him have a chance to forgive you, and yes, to mourn his baby.

"Can I ask, your other daughter…?"

"Veronica," said Mrs. Riley.

"Veronica. She should go too. Sean will be out in a few years, maybe even sooner. When he is out he will find you and ask you the hard questions anyway. Go see him, Marissa. He needs you and he needs to know the truth from you," I said.

We talked a little longer, and she cried the whole time. I did find out some more about Veronica Riley age twenty-three; I knew Sean would appreciate the fact that she was a college student attending the university on a full ride scholarship.

I don't know why Sean's wife talked to me; I mean a stranger knocking on her door and mentioning her husband's name. It could only be because the stars were aligned in perfect order for her to tell her tale and confess her sins. I gave her my phone number, well, the number of the Blue Collar, and asked her to call if she felt the need. I would be looking after her for Sean's sake to the extent that she'd allow me to and their daughter too.

It was a full week later that I got a visit at the Blue Collar.

"Marissa, glad to see you. What can I do for you?" I said.

"Yes, Mr. Reardon thank you for setting me straight. I went to see Sean. You were right. It was the right thing to do. It was tense at first, but well, again, you were right; he is a forgiving man. We mostly just cried together for the whole time. He told me to tell you he owes you," she said.

"Marissa, he doesn't owe me a damn thing. He saved my ass inside, and I will never forget it," I said. "But I am glad things are working out for you.

"Can I ask? Did Veronica go with you?" I said.

"No, no, I had to do this first visit alone. I mean, well you understand," she said. "But, I think she's decided to go up there next month. Anyway, I guess, we'll just have to wait and see," she said. I nodded.

"I'm going to get up there myself before too long," I said. I checked, and even though I'm an ex-con, they'll let me in to see him. They've humanized some of the rules up there in recent years, I guess."

"Well, good, I know he'll be glad to see you.

"I'd be going myself; I mean next month, but-well-it's a long drive and I don't make a lot of money. But, I am going to try and see him every other month from now on," she said.

"I know he'll appreciate it," I said. We talked for a bit longer and then she was gone.

And then there was Rhena, my still wife that I had not seen in over six years. Did I want to see her? Yes and no. But, I sure did want to fuck her.

I'd thought about her almost every day since I first went inside. Hell, there was no almost about it. She had a sweet pussy, and I frankly needed it real bad. The thought made me smile. I'd been out less than a month. But, I was employed. I was healthy. I was free of any probation restrictions. I wondered what she'd do or say if she saw me. I made the decision.

I tried the old number; it rang.

"Hello," said the familiar voice.

"Hello, Rhena," I said.

"Arthur? Arthur! It's you! What? How?" she all but stammered.

"Yes, it is me. I've been out about a month. Any chance of you being willing to see me?" I said.

"Arthur-I-I-sure, yes, of course. Where?" she said.

"The Blue Collar on fifth?" I said.

"The Blue Collar? Okay. I remember the place. You and went there a few times. Sure, yes," she said.

"Okay," I said. "Seven tonight good?"

"Yes, that would be fine," she said.

Hanging up the phone, Rhena was at odds with herself. He who had been the love of her life was not only out, after so many years, he'd actually called her. She'd expected that she'd see him again, someday, but not on good terms. The truth was she expected that he would spit on her; but no, he'd sounded-something-horny!

Sweet Jesus! did he want a piece of ass! And if so, then what of William! Oh my. Oh my indeed. This could turn into something very weird. Arthur, her Arthur, had to know, suspect that she could not have gone six years without getting any. Heck, he very well knew that she couldn't six days without getting any. Oh my-oh my-oh my," she thought.

Well there it was, I thought, I guessed we'd be seeing how things turned out. Was she still with Kursk? If so how would I handle it? If she were with him, how would she handle seeing me again was the better question? It was going to be an interesting meet up. But, no matter what, the first thing on the agenda was going to be getting my ball sack emptied and that not by the five sisters.

I was early. Well okay, so I was anxious. I admit it. My anger had died over the years and had been replaced with desperation, desperation to get back to living a normal life-no-a good life.

I saw her come in. She saw me. For as short moment time stood still. Jesus she was pretty, and it was clear she'd made an effort to be pretty. I hoped like hell her looking so good presaged a good fucking result for me. Man did I ever hope it did!

"Hello, Arthur," she said. Her tone was tentative.

"Hi, Rhena. You look very pretty tonight," I said. She seemed to relax at my tone, or, maybe my words.

"How are you my husband?" she said.

I shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Missed you. Hope you're doing good," I said.

Her turn to shrug. "I'm okay. Not starving to death. I missed you too, big guy," she said. I smiled.

"You still my wife, Rhena? Still want to be?" I said. Okay, I was getting right to it.

She slumped back into her seat. Just then the waitress came forward to take our orders. It was a welcome interruption. We ordered: a JD on the rocks for me and a white wine for her.

"I think so," she said. My brow knitted; I could feel it.

"I'm not-" I started.

"What I mean, Arthur, is that there has been a lot of water under our respective bridges, and, ideally we can get by it all and pick up the pieces of our marriage and get on. I want to do that. I really do. But…

"Since you called this morning, I've been thinking of what might come out of this sit down tonight. I'm sure you have too. I mean, you did make the call. And, I guess we need to hash things out and see where we're at," she said.

"Sounds about right to me," I said. The drinks came and, again, the waitress was timely. I'd have to be tipping her accordingly.

"Rhena, when I went inside, I have to say I actually hated you, And I wanted to kill Kursk. But, over the years, I've mellowed out. I met some guy, well, he straightened me out kinda. I don't hate anybody anymore, not even Kursk. But…"

"But, you're still not cool with me having a lover, I mean apart from you," she said.

"That's about the size of it, I guess," I said. "So, any chance?" She eyed me.

"I've had a lover or two over these past years," she said. "And, well, I have one now. He was not and is not intended to be long term-it's been about a year now though-and it would be hard to just abruptly tell him to get lost. I was sure you were going to be in prison for a few more years. But, well, you aren't, and I'm glad you aren't, and now you and I have to make some decisions."

"You damn near killed my last lover, Kursk…"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," I said, some things she was saying were finally registering. "Am I to understand that Kursk is history? And, if so, may I ask is this new lover paying your bills?"

"Yes, and no. Yes, Kursk is history. He has a new chickee he likes better, so he gave me the door. I do still work there; well, I am good at what I do quite apart from fucking and sucking cock. And, to answer your second question, I pay my own bills. And again, Kursk and I have been broken up for the past three years.

"Still, Like Kursk, who was never going to be a long term thing either, William will be gone one of these days too. He's twelve years younger than me, and sooner or later he's gonna be wanting some girl with a little less millage on her. I had intended to just go with the flow until that happened, until he dumped me, but now you're out; and well, we have to talk; we have to make decisions. If we can agree on how to handle things; then, I guess we'll be good," she said. "Anyway, that's what I meant."

"I see. Would I be right to assume that you would like to continue making it with this William fellow?" I said.

She eyed me for a long moment. She was clearly evaluating the usefulness of what she was about to say. "Yes, in the best of all possible worlds, yes," she said. I nodded.

"And me? Us?" I said.

"Again, in the best of all possible worlds you'd be my husband again. You'd tolerate my little thing on the side. And ninety-nine percent of the time it would be us and only us," she said. She sank back in her chair and waited for my reaction. I nodded slowly. She interrupted my thinking.

"Arthur, if I may. You've been out a month. Have you…"

I knew what she was asking. It kinda bothered me that she would be thinking about that particular thing, about asking, but I decided to be straight up with her. "No, not yet," I said.

"And you're… " she said.

"Horny? Yes," I said. She looked into my eyes, wrinkled her brow, stood, and came around the table to me.

She reached out her hand for mine. "Come on. We're going to get rid of your hornies first and then we'll talk some more if you want," I said. I didn't exactly jump up to follow her, but almost.

Our old place, hers now, looked the same on the outside. On the inside it had had a complete makeover. I told her so. "Looks nice," I said. "You've done a lot, made a lot of changes." She ignored me.

She sat me down at a new, to me, dinette table. It was a nice one. She noticed me admiring it.

"A gift," she said. I didn't ask any follow up questions, but I did nod my understanding. One or another of her lovers had given it to her.

I watched her disappear down the hallway. She'd be getting ready, I knew, powdering her nose, whatever.

She reappeared five minutes later. The yellow teddy, the matching panties that I could see through, the sheerness of the teddy's fabric tantalized me. Oh, and she smelled terrific.

"Sweet Jesus!" I said. "Rhena you're beautiful. Even in the darkest of nights, while I was inside, dreaming of you if you want to know; the vision I see in front of me right now never made an appearance."

She actually curtsied. "Thank you, Sir Galahad," she said. "Now if you will take me over to yon couch and begin kissing me and feeling me up, I would be most appreciative-it's a female thing."

I played along with the knight in shining armor thing she had going and let her place her left hand on my right forearm as I escorted her to her couch.

We sat beside each other lightly touching and kissing. After some little time I began massaging her breast. She shivered; it was delicious.

My hand slithered up the smoothness of her thigh and stopped just short of touching the hem of her panties. Her hand squeezed the hardness of my cock through the fabric of my jeans and I could almost feel precum oozing from the tip of my so far unexposed sex engine.

I hefted the sheer teddy over her head and off, tossing it to the floor behind the couch. Her breasts were now open to me, and I suckled on them as a small baby might a new mother's.

She slid to the floor and undid first my belt, then my pants, finally pulling them down and off of me. My underpants were next as she sought impatiently to get at my cock and balls.

She took hold of my dick and stroked me several times before leaning forward and taking half its five-inches in her mouth and massaging it with her tongue. I blew my load in less than three minutes.

"There, now you'll be able to last a little while, while you screw me," she said.

She remounted the couch and pushed her butt back at me. I peeled her panties down and off and began licking her crack and the secret harbored there. My cock, dead but minutes before, rose again to steel hardness once more.

I stood and pressed home my assault on her daintiness. She grunted a few times as I seesawed in an out of her trying to get her into the act as much as possible. Finally her feminine juices lubed her vagina and I took her fiercely. She moaned and squealed and then tensed and shuddered as she made it. I was inordinately proud of myself for having gotten her off; it hadn't always happened in the old days, but it did this time.

She sagged down onto the couch and pulled herself up into a fetal position. She mooed her satisfaction. It was a good moment. I slipped to the floor my face but inches from hers. Her eyes were closed; I kissed them.

As good as it had been, my fucking her; could I bring myself to share that exquisite body with another man, a boy? I wasn't sure.

Breakfast had only been coffee and toast and some light conversation. Neither of us wanted to awaken the elephant in the room. Would I allow her to keep her little thing on the side? Could I? And, if not, would she, could she, remain faithful to me? By lunch I had gotten up the courage to make a decision; I just wasn't sure what the decision would be; I was playing that one by ear.

"The tuna sandwiches were good. I'd forgotten how much better home cooking was compared to restaurant food; I mean even the simple stuff is better," I said. She smiled.

"Well, thanks for that," she said. "So, I guess this is it then. I can tell from your look that you've got something to say."

"Yes, yes, I do," I said. "You said it was my choice about you and your friends." I was being about as euphemistical as I could. I figured a lot of nasty language and attitude wasn't going to do it. The situation was so weird.

"Okay?" she said.

"You wanna play a little on the side. I'd prefer you not do it, but I am of the opinion that you will even if I put the boff on it. Oh, maybe not at first, and maybe not often, but you've tasted the forbidden fruit, and I'm figurin' it would be more than a bitch for you to give it up entirely," I said.

"Arthur, I will honor whatever decision you make. I'd like to keep my William, but my world does not revolve around him or anyone else. It revolves around you.

"Last night was kind of a test for me. I did it to help you out on the one hand, but also to help me make up my mind. I needed to know if you would do me up right or if there was just too much water under the bridge to get past. The result was a major positive. Frankly, while I wasn't exactly surprised; I was, well, surprised.

"We could make it, and I could do it-remain faithful," she said. I looked dubious.

"Okay, then," I said. "I would appreciate it if you would dump the lovers and us make a fresh start." She didn't deflate. I figured she'd kinda made up her mind that what I'd opt for would be what I in fact did opt for.

"Okay then," she said, "that's settled. I will be speaking to the man today. You can listen in if you want. But, I do have to let him know that now that you're back, he and I are done." I nodded.

"Okay then," I said. "But one last thing. If you do play after today, I will react to it. I don't know how I will react; I don't feature going back to prison for any reason, but I will react." Her turn to nod.

"I understand how you feel and where you are coming from. And, since you've put it out there. While I am certain today, that you and I can be good, there is always the human element. Maybe I will fail you down the line. I doubt it, but it could realistically happen. That said, if you do to some so far unidentified William or Kursk what you did to the first Kursk; believe it, I will do my level best to see that you are punished and go back to prison for a very long time.

"You almost killed the man, Arthur. Adultery, bad as it is, and I am here to accept the truth that it is and that I have been very bad; it is not a death penalty offense. Divorce me, get some honey on the side yourself, do anything else, but no violence. Clear?" she said. I nodded.

"Very clear," I said. She smiled.

"Well then, welcome home my darling," she said.

The guards actually remembered me; well, I had been their neighbor for six years. It gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling.

He was already waiting for me in outdoor visitors' area. He stood up and came to me as I approached the cement table that he had been holding down.

"Good to see you, Sean," I said, coming up to him. His handshake was a little too enthusiastic, but I endured it.

"Arthur Reardon, I am forever in your debt. Until a few weeks ago… well, since then I've actually had purpose in my life. And, it's all your doing," he said.

"Yeah, well, I recall you helping me out in days gone by," I said. "Anyway, it is good to see you. I think your daughter will be up to see you soon too."

"Saw her today," he said. "She was here a little earlier. Man that was… " he started to cry. I just waited. This was one of those do not disturb moments.

"I saw her today, she was so beautiful, so tall and so beautiful. Arthur, she doesn't hate me," he said. I nodded.

"Well, what's to hate?" I said. "Sean the day will come when you get out of this hellhole, and they'll be waiting for you. You'll be able to work and have a family and get on with your life just like me."

"You and your wife?" he said.

"Yes, we're back together. Things are a little weird. But, good, good overall. I'm hopeful. I don't have to tell you-being away so long-it's gonna be a while before I really feel like I have my feet on the ground.

"You know the irony of it all: the guy I caught her with kicked her to the curb for some young chickee. Weird huh? And weirder, she still works for the guy. Evidently she is too valuable an employee to just up and fire. So, she has been able to support herself." He nodded, thought of something, and changed the subject.

"You're working." he said. I knew he knew I was. But, I wasn't sure how much Marissa had told him.

"Yeah, I got lucky. Got one the day I hit town. I'm a barkeep. Like the work, like the boss; he's a con by the way," I said.

"A con? Yeah, he married right, and when he got out she helped him get straight, and well, he's an all right guy," I said.

"I should be so lucky," he said. "I'm up for parole next month, but I won't get it. I never get it. I think they don't like big guys. I think my bein' so big intimidates them. I'll be doin' the rest of my twenty for sure; I got no illusions." I just nodded. Sean always knew what he was talking about.

We talked for a while longer. We got to killing time and the siren sounded. The guards ushered us visitors out. Our farewell was not quite tearful, at least on his part. I'd be seein' him again and sooner than I expected as it turned out.

It was a long drive home, and I had an idea. At the very least it would make Sean feel better. I'd have to see about it and that immediately.

"Yes, Marissa, I know it won't guarantee anything, but his behavior has been good inside, and if you and Veronica were to, you know, tell your stories, leave nothing out; it might make a difference. At the very least he will be ecstatic over your support," I said.

She and I had been talking for a good long time. The bottom line was that the two of us were conspiring to get the parole board to do that which they had not done in four previous opportunities: release Sean Riley from the slam.

Those first days and weeks after our reunion were nothing less than fantastic as far as I was concerned. I knew for a flat fact the same could be said for my wife. Still, that said, there was something lurking in the shadows, behind the scene that I sensed more than knew for sure; something that was just waiting to sting us.

The thing? The something? I'd come home early because of a toothache. It was a Friday night. And, cliché of clichés there was a strange car in the driveway. A Chevy Impala as it happened. It was a nice car, pinstriped, front end lowered, chromed pipes; it was a kid's car. I knew who the owner was without a doubt. Well, I knew his first name: William.

I parked on the street and went inside. They were making a lot of noise. I made myself a drink-straight Canadian on the rocks. I dallied. What was I going to do? I was a tough guy. I could probably mess the guy up. But, six years for doing that very thing to another guy kinda put the boff on that.

I stirred my drink completely unnecessarily, and thought things out. If I went in and stopped it, how would she handle it from her end; I didn't give a rat's ass about how he'd handle it. And, if I did stop her what would be the bottom line after the fact.

Could I deal with losing her? Could I just accept the fact that she was a whore and would never really stop? The supreme irony, if that's what one might be inclined call it, was the fact that I wasn't really angry. I was what? Maybe amused would be the best way to describe my feelings. Hell I didn't know, but it was something like that.

I decided to just wait and let them dictate the scene. I went into the den and turned on the TV. The Yankees and Red Sox were at it. The birds were up three to two; it was the top of the sixth.

"What's that?" said Rhena.

"Huh? I don't know. The TV?" he said.

"Get off of me and get dressed," she commanded. He did as he was told. I was up and making my second drink when they came down the hallway. They had to pass me. Did I say I was amused; well, I was.

He froze. He was no more than five feet from me. A handsome kid. Tall and skinny with wild brown hair and an out of place mustache. I decided to be nice.

"How yuh doin', William?" I said. "Want a drink?"

"Huh? Wha… " he started. Rhena rounded the corner and came to me. No, that's not right; she placed herself defensively between the kid and me. She was clearly worried.

"Arthur, please… " she said.

"Relax, Rhena, I'm not going to do anything untoward. Just relax."

"Kid?" I said, holding up an empty glass?

"No, no sir," he said. "He was clearly scared to death.

"Had to come home early, honey, toothache. Danny's covering," I said.

"Arthur? What's going on? You are way to calm. Something's going on," she said.

I sighed. "Nothing. Well, I'm having a drink. You want one just say so; I'll make it for you. We'll talk later. Just relax, I'm not going to go off on you or the boy or anybody. I've learned my lesson in that regard. Okay?" I said.

"Arthur-okay-and yes we will talk if you want.

"William, I guess you better be going. I'll walk you to the door," she said.

I heard her whispering to the kid, but I couldn't make out what they were saying: making a date for another time, warning him not to push me; it had to be something like that. I'd be asking her.

"He's gone," she said coming back into the den. I was again watching the tube. The birds had scored another run. I liked the Red Sox. My favorite team if it came to that; it kinda put me in a good mood.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I couldn't-can't-help myself. I guess you'll be wanting to divorce me now. I am so sorry. I am also grateful you didn't well, you know," she said.

"Divorce you? I'm not going to divorce you. Do you want a divorce?" I said.

"Well, no-but…"

"Look, Rhena, I finally get it. Well, I think I do. You love me right enough, but you're basically a whore. Not a socially acceptable thing to be in most circles, but not all that uncommon either.

"When I first got out, Danny told me about how he and his wife got on. You'd like her by the way, a real nice lady. Anyway, what he said made me think. I mean she's a paid escort, one that puts out when called upon to do so, but she always comes home to Danny; and, as he told me; she has never become emotionally involved with any of her-uh-clients," I said.

"Arthur, wait just a damn minute. You're not going to divorce me?" she said.

"No," I said.

"And you are not mad at me for-well-William," she said.

"Jury's still out on that one," I said. "But, insane with rage like I was with Kursk? No." She nodded.

"So-what do we do now?" she said.

"That's kind of up to you," I said.

"Me?"

"Yes, you still hot to trot?" I said. At first she looked perplexed, but then a smile started to spread across her face.

"Well, you did kind of interrupt us in the process. So, yes, I'm afraid I was kind of left hanging," she said.

"Well, since you did help me get rid of my hornies that first time after I got out; well, I guess I do feel the need to reciprocate," I said.

"Well, then do so," she said. I was smiling now as I led her to the couch.

"We'll still be doing some talking after the fact here," I said. "Never doubt it."

"I know. But fuck me first," she said. And, I did.

I took her missionary her legs splayed wide and her slit oozing her juices. The smell, the smell was almost overpowering. Woman smell, there is simply nothing like it; I was rock hard, and I was not gentle as I rammed my cock into her. She came, I came, I rolled off of her and lay panting beside her. We'd had far more imaginative sex in the time since we'd gotten back together, in the time since I had gotten back; but this more or less quickie was more satisfying, and no; I couldn't begin to say why.

We showered, made to get something to nibble on, and put on the coffee. I needed that cup of coffee; she opted for a coke. The nibbling was done on tuna sandwiches.

"You've been doing him right along haven't you?" I said.

She sighed. "Yes," she said. I nodded.

"And your promises to me?" I said.

"Made in good faith when I made them, but when I talked to him, told him we were done. The little shit cried. He is only a kid after all. Great cock, eight inches plus, and he has staying power; but, he's still just a kid, and a whiny one.

"For the record, you on the other hand are a man, a tough nasty ass man who's been around and knows the ropes. His dick is twice yours, but his assets pretty much end there."

"All of the above being true, and I do believe you, why didn't you keep your promises; I mean you said you meant to," I said.

She sighed again. "Like I said, he cried. I felt sorry for him. So, I consoled him, and told him that maybe I could figure a way for him and me to do it once in a while. It wouldn't be like before, but once in a while. You were never supposed to know. But, then, I made the fatal blunder of assuming your schedule would be normal, and we could do it here."

"Why here? You were taking a risk," I said.

"A minimal one. I decided to do it here in case you made a call home while you were working, something you've done more or less daily ever since we got back together. As for you coming home early; well, who the hell would have bet that a fucking toothache would be my undoing!" I laughed.

"Yeah, who'd have thought it," I said.

"You're laughing. Am I, can I, assume we're still good?" she said.

"For now. You gonna keep seeing the kid?" I said.

"Would it doom us if I did?" she said. There it was. If I said no would she really stop? Maybe, she'd been caught. But, then again, maybe she'd just be more careful. The real question was did I give damn? Did it bother me? Thinking about it at that moment; it really didn't bother me. What did bother me was the possibility that I could lose the best piece of ass I'd ever had, and with it the woman I did consider my soulmate, that in spite of the kid.

"Would you leave me if I said to let him cry and dump him," I said. She hesitated.

"No, you're more important to me," she said. She'd hesitated. I made the decision.

"How often are you doing it with him?" I said.

"Before you came back three and four times a week. Now once every couple of weeks?" she said. "Always here, and always on nights when you closed at the bar," she said.

"Okay, keep your super dick, but keep to the same schedule. Do not increase it, and use the guest room for crying out loud, not our bed. Jesus, that pissed me off," I said. "Our bed is where you and I make love, commit ourselves to each other. Okay!" I said.

"Really!" she said. Her look was disbelieving, but excited too.

"Yes, I guess, really.

"I saw his look tonight when he'd been caught. He's afraid of me, and well he might be. But, that said, he has nothing to fear, so long as he doesn't get arrogant or try to do you more than a couple of times a month. I can live with that much. I lived without pussy for six years. So, so long as I feel good about who you love-me-I guess I can live with a little scheduled adultery."

She got up from her seat at the table across from me, came to me and kissed me lovingly. "You won't be sorry," she said.

"Well, that's my hope," I said.

"Arthur, one more thing. I have to say, I really appreciate it that you didn't mess him up. I know you could have; and well, again, I appreciate it that you didn't," she said. I nodded. The kid had gotten a free pass, but it was a one use only. If he stuck to the rules, he'd be okay. If not-not.

"No problem," I said. "Just make sure he sticks to the rules," she nodded.

We'd been back together for almost a year. I'd be thirty-eight in a couple of months, but I felt older.

"You caught her fucking some snot nose kid?" said Danny, as he set my drink down in front of me. We'd been talking and I'd been sharing for the past little bit.

"Yeah, I did," I said. "Pissed me off too, I mean them doing it in our bed. But, she won't be making that mistake again. Of that I am quite certain."

"And you let the kid live, and her too if it comes to that," he said.

"Yeah, well the possibility of going back inside is something of a deterrent if you get my drift," I said.

"Yeah, I can relate," he said.

"You say you're going to let her have her little side game?" said Danny.

"Yes, for now. He's no threat to me. I saw him, talked to him briefly. He's a wimpy little kid with nothing but his youth going for him, oh, and to hear her tell it his cock. Seems it's a bit above average in size. No matter, I'd rather she be fucking him than somebody of substance. So anyway, she'll occasionally be fucking the little shit, and yeah, I'm okay with it at least for now," I said.

"I can relate. My woman and I have the same kind of set up more or less as you know. She occasionally lets a john do her, but it's never anything more than wham bam, and then she comes home to me. Those nights I get my sloppies, but they don't bother me; hell, they kinda turn me on," he said.

As we spoke a man entered and looked over the scene before noticing me, as I was about to find out. He was hobbling some, used a cane for support. Looked to be sixty, but his demeanor was younger; I knew for a fact that he was only forty years old.

"Hello, fuckwad, convict," said John Kursk. I turned and frowned.

"Kursk," I said, unnecessarily. "What do you want?" Danny moved off down the bar.

"Nothing from you. You've already done enough, thank you very much," he said, he said it sarcastically.

"You are more than welcome, adulterer," I said. "Hear you've got a new squeeze."

"Oh, I've got more than one," he said. "Just can't seem to keep the girls away, You know, some of us got it sand some of us don't."

I smiled a very sarcastic smile. "You seem to have aged some since our last little meet up," I said. "I mean quite apart from that." I was pointing to his cane.

"Yeah, well it hasn't seemed to hurt my appeal to the ladies, like I said," he said.

I snickered. I almost felt sorry for the loser. He was clearly not what he once was. That in spite of his bravado.

"Don't believe me? Ask your wife. We don't do it as often as we once did. Too many chickees out there to share my blessings with. But, occasionally, well you know, she's gotta have it every so often just to remind her of what a quality woman she is. You on the other hand, mister pencil dick, aren't quite up to getting the job done, are you?" he said.

I could feel my face and my mood darken simultaneously. I was certain for a flat fact that the asshole was telling the truth. She hadn't stopped doing it with him. She'd slowed down, but she was still doing him, probably at work. She and I would be talking, but, at a time of my choosing.

He strode off snickering to himself. He took a table along the far wall. He seemed to be waiting for someone. It was my early night: I was already off, so I wouldn't need to be sticking around watching him. I left.

I put Brad Kursk and his accusations on the back burner. I had bigger fish to fry for the moment, and life at home was good enough for me to not get too overly messed up in the head over yet another disappointment by my woman. The fact was that I wasn't even really mad, not really. Frustrated maybe. I began to realize that I had a first water slut for a wife and nothing was going to change that little reality. I'd either learn to live with it, or burn a bridge and get the hell outta there. I'd figure out what it was that I was going to do later when it suited me.

It was a month later. Marissa didn't call me; she just showed up at the Blue collar. She showed up with a very large man.

"Jesus, HQ-ree-eyest!" I said. "Sean, you're out!" I didn't quite squeal.

"Yes, and that's something else I owe you for," he said. Your idea to have my ladies come and talk for me did the trick. Them, and good behavior for seventeen years made the case. They let me go, no parole either. Like I said, I owe you."

"Yeah, well, you can buy me a drink," I said.

"You got it," he said.

I signaled Maisy. She brought her pad. "Bring a couple of pitchers, Maisy. This is an occasion.

"Yes, it is, mister Reardon, Yes it is," said Marissa. "Veronica wanted to be here, but she has major exams tomorrow and couldn't make it. She will though. This whole family owes you, not just Sean."

"Yeah, well, someday maybe Sean will tell you what he did for me when we were inside. Trust me, I owe him just as much and more," I said. "But, I sure am glad to see you. Man, am I!"

"Yeah, good to see you too," said Sean. "Got out just today. Spent the day with my missus," he gestured toward, Marissa, "and then, well, now we're here."

"Man oh man. Talk about pleasant surprises. So, got any immediate plans? I mean what do you plan on doing now you're out?" I said.

"Well, get a job, and get used to better food, well, you know; you been through it," he said.

"Yeah, I have. We'll talk, but not tonight. Tonight we drink a little beer, eat a few dogs or burgers, and shoot pool.

"But, hang loose for a minute, I gotta go talk to the boss for a second. He's in the back doing boss stuff," I said. I rose and didn't quite run for the office in the back.

"Danny, my bud's out of the slam and he's here," I said. "You still want a bouncer and sometime tender?"

"Really, the guy you told me about? That Sean guy?" he said.

"Yes," I said. I know I sounded excited, and I was.

"You sayin' he might want to work here?" he said.

"Not sure, but he is looking for a job. And, he can definitely do the job-well-the bouncer part. He can learn the rest," I said.

"He on parole?" said Danny. I knew what he meant. If he was on parole he likely wouldn't be allowed to work in a bar during business hours.

"No, he's clear," I said. "He's here with his wife too if you want to meet the family."

"Okay, give me a minute, and I'll be out," I said.

I headed back, and resumed my confab with the Rileys.

Danny showed no more than a minute after me.

"So this is the man," said Danny, coming up to us.

"He is indeed," I said. "Sean Riley, Marissa Riley this is Danny Williams the owner of this fine establishment."

"Glad to meet you mister Williams," said Sean. Marissa nodded her agreement.

"Likewise," said Danny. "Arthur's told me a lot about you. Said you might be looking for a job. We need a bouncer and a sometime barkeep. Sound like something you might be into?"

Sean's eyes opened a little wider expressing his surprise. "Well, actually, it would," said Sean.

"Well good," said Danny. "You can start tomorrow. Turns out I'm a little shorthanded. I was going to ask Arthur here to do a double, but if you're willing we can hit the ground running."

"Mister Williams, you definitely have a deal, and I can't thank you enough. Not out of the joint for a whole day and already got a job. Oh yeah, the Lord is looking after me for sure," said Sean.

There were handshakes all around. Danny took the new employee into the back to show him the stuff he'd need to know and to get the employment app filled out. That left me with Marissa. Maisy was taking care of the few customers other than ourselves for the moment; I'd be owing her for covering for me, and that was cool.

"So, just something else, Sean owes you for," said Marissa.

"Marissa, Sean owes me nothing. He and I, well, we're friends. We met, it's true, under shity circumstances, but we are friends. The day will come, sure as shootin', that I'll need his help and he'll be there. And, maybe down the line I'll be able to back his play again too. It's all cool, but it's not a matter of owing anybody anything. It's just friendship. Okay?" I said. She nodded and smiled broadly.

"Maybe Sean was right," she said.

"About?" I said.

"He said that the day you were sent up was actually a good thing: the Lord's work is actually what he said. It brought you two together," she said.

"Yeah maybe," I said.

The city park was only four blocks from the bar. The day was sunny, and the barbecue was hot. Sean and Marissa and their daughter Veronica were there to meet Rhena and Danny's wife Pamela.

The food was good the beer was good and the conversation and all was also good.

Danny and Sean were inordinately proud of their women as was I was of my Rhena-personality quirks notwithstanding. Danny and Pam and Rhena and I had shared a few dinners hitherto, but this was our first outing per se. Sean and Marissa and their baby would now be members of our little group.

I was tending the barbecue pit for the moment when Pamela Williams came up to me.

"Can I borrow you for a minute, Arthur?" she said. Rhena was in conversation at that moment with Veronica and Marissa. Danny and Sean were talking animatedly about a fishing trip they were putting together.

I motioned Sean and Danny to take over for a moment. Pamela and I walked over to a tree offering shade from the early afternoon sun.

I looked the woman askance. "Danny tells me that your Rhena has a sometime boy toy," said Pamela. I sighed.

"Yeah, that's so,. But we have an understanding," I said. "I guess it's something like the one you and Danny have."

"Hmm, yes, maybe," she said. "I don't know Rhena that well, so I'm no expert, but if you want a little advice. Don't worry about her. She's yours. That said, for a few more years she is going to be looking for the occasional bit of strange. It's who she is. I've been at this racket too long not to know the signs. Just go with the flow, Arthur. You'll be the one coming out winner in the end. Anyway, that's my unsolicited two cents."

"Pamela, thank you. It is good to hear your thoughts on the matter. I will most definitely keep them in mind. Again, thank you," I said.

The get acquainted part of the barbecue went off well. We'd all be sharing yards and parks again, about that there was no doubt. And, Pamela's thoughts would indeed be fodder for my thinking for darn sure.

"Okay, baby, at the wheelhouse," said Sean Riley. He was smiling broadly as he hung up.

"So you and Veronica are finally getting together for a night out," said Marissa Riley. "The wheelhouse is near the college, right?"

"Yes, it is. Makes it easier for her. Anyway, I can't remember being any happier than I am right now with the possible exception of the day you and I got back together after so long," he said. She came to him and kissed him heavily on the lips and every other place on his face. He was laughing the laugh of the supremely happy.

He saw her car parked toward the back of the crowded lot. Near it was a large blue van. It was rocking. He smiled: college students doing the dirty, he thought. He started heading for the entrance of the bistro. A scream, muffled, but a scream stopped him cold in his tracks.

"My dad will kill you scum bags!" said the female voice. The female voice he recognized very well. He headed for the van. He tested the sliding door and yanked it; it was unlocked. The three men and one girl froze in time. The one fucking her was naked from the waist down; he was raping her. The other two were just finishing getting dressed. The naked one snarled at the intruder.

"What the fuck do you want asshole," said the offending male.

Sean didn't say anything. He yanked the man out of the van and sent him sprawling onto the asphalt. The other two men jumped to the assistance of their compadre. The three scrambling, pushed Sean back some little distance, punching him and kicking him, but could not put him down. An elbow to the face of the half-naked one in his grasp dropped him. A back hand to the next nearest offender spun him around and left him bleeding and stunned on the ground. Numero three-o flipped open a switch blade and started to circle the big man.

The bladist lunged and thrust his blade home slashing Sean's arm and piercing him high on the chest.

Sean grimaced, but came at the man pounding him repeatedly in the face on his arms and body. Suddenly there was a swarm of black and whites flanking the group. Sean sank to the ground, the five inch blade buried deep and protruding from his chest.

He woke up staring at the white-hospital white-ceiling.

Sitting across from him was a man in a cheap suit. "Awake finally, I see," said the man.

"Yes. You the police?" said Sean. His voice was weak, and his breaths were somewhat short, but he was coherent.

"Yes. Sergeant Doyle, local PD. You Sean Riley, lately of state prison?" said the man.

"Yes. Am I in trouble?" said Sean.

"Not in this case. I'm here to ask you a few questions. Gotta do the paperwork, but it's clear from your daughter's statement that you saved her and put down her rapists. All three of them are here-in the prison ward. The bunch of them are suspected in a series of rapes of local coeds. You actually helped us out there, I guess," he said.

"Glad to be of service," said Sean. "My daughter, how is she?"

"She's okay. Well as okay as a girl who'd been raped three times can be. She's a tough kid. I think she'll be good," said Sergeant Doyle. The room was suddenly alive with nurses. One of them shooed out the policeman, another one pushed a button alerting still more caregivers.

"My daughter, what room is she in?" said Sean.

"She's home, mister Riley. Your wife came to get her. She was here over night, but she went home about two hours ago. Your wife will be returning, so she said to me," said Nurse Joan-so her ID badge announced.

A serious looking man clearly in charge came in and took charge of the tableau. "Hello, Sean. I'm doctor Cooter. In case you care, you've lost some blood, and we did have to patch up a severed artery, nasty business that one; but, you're going to be fine. Gonna keep you a couple of days."

"Can't pay. You better let me go home; my wife can tend to me," said Sean.

"Not necessary, your boss is picking up the tab. There'll be no bill, not to you at any rate," said Dr. Cooter.

"Can I go in to see him now?" I said to nurse Joan.

"Yes, but I would caution you to not stay too long. He's a strong man, but he had some serious internal bleeding. He needs to rest."

I saw her arrive just as we headed inside. "Hi Marissa. I've just been cleared to visit. You wanna go in first or… " I said.

"No, no, let's go in together," she said. I glanced over at nurse Joan; she nodded her okay for the two of us to go in together.

The visit was good. He seemed kinda out of it, but he was more or less coherent. Wanted to know about Veronica. The details caused him to relax some. The rapists were going to not love it at state prison. Sean's friends there were a guarantee of that little reality. But, that was thinking to be saved for another day.

Two years later:

I had a decision to make. Inside, and ever since getting out, I'd had but two goals" to live well and to have a woman who would commit herself to me and to us, as I was determined to commit to her and to us.

I felt I could claim that I was doing my best to live well. And, I had committed myself to Rhena and to us as a couple. But, Rhena could not say the same. Oh, she was being discreet if not actually hiding it from me, but she was still doing her thing on the side: fucking other men. Who and how many I didn't know; but, I did know about Kursk and William. I kinda knew when too. The timeline was always two to three hours elapsed, and she always showered when she got home. Sloppy seconds had not been an issue. But then it was, and that was the catalyst for the ultimatum I was about to lay on her.

She'd gotten in late-a rarity-and had slid into bed beside me. No shower this night, she was obviously fagged out and only wanting to sleep. I could smell it on her, the stink of sex. I'd rolled over and slept too.

It was a Sunday morning. I was horny. Like I said, she stank. She wanted to shower first, but I was not waiting for that. I took her knowing I was getting sloppies. While I was doing her, it didn't bother me, but for some damn reason afterwards, well, it did bother me. No logic, just nature or whatever.

We showered together, and headed out to breakfast.

"You took me knowing…?" she didn't finish her sentence.

"Yes, I was super horny," I said. "But Rhena…?"

"I'm going to ask you to dump the lovers. Summarily and now," I said. "I thought I could deal with it, and to your credit you haven't actually rubbed my nose in it in all this these three years, well, until last night. I mean you coming to bed with his stink still on you," I spread my hands in a you-can't-be-serious gesture.

She looked down. "I'm sorry about last night. I didn't realize that I smelled that bad. But, thinking about it now, I'm sure I did.

"But, you want me to-cut him off? No way we can talk about this?" she said. "Like you said, until last night, I've been studiously avoiding letting it become an issue, I mean doing anything that was actually all that noticeable."

"No, and I'll give you that. But, I have known about it, and it has rankled some. I just-well-from now on I just want to be like other normal couples. No more swinging wife. Just you and me babe. Please. Okay?" I said. "I mean it's been three years now more or less."

She took on a pensive look. "Babe, I need it. I need the occasional big cock. And, no, that's not a slam at you. It's just that I've gotten used to it. Now, it's gotten to the point where I need it, almost can't do without it. Please try and understand, honey. Please."

"I have tried to understand, and if it were just this William kid, maybe I could deal with it; but Kursk? Can't do it," I said. Her face lost all of its color. She swallowed.

"How long have you known?" she said.

"A while. We ran into each other at the bar. He laid it on me that he was still doing you even if he was doing other women too," I said. "He looked kinda sickly and old to me. For the record what in the world is the attraction? What makes him so damn indispensable?"

"His cock, and his almost unbelievable stamina. He really is one of a kind, Arthur. Really," she said. "Not much of a man in other respects, but so long as I don't have to wake up beside him in the morning; well, he fills that one need like few other living males.

"Sorry About lying to you, Arthur, but I was afraid that if I outted myself about him that you might do something really bad. I just couldn't chance it." I nodded. I guess I understood where she was coming from, but that said, she shouldn't have been doing him regardless.

"Can't get you to give them up then?" I said. She looked down.

"Okay, I guess I know where I stand then. I'll be leaving tonight.

"I love you, Rhena. I love you way more than you love me. But, I can't do the sharing thing anymore. I just can't," I said.

I stood and threw a twenty down on the table. "Arthur… " But, I was gone.

I set the wheels in motion for the divorce. Got it cheap, $500. Rhena didn't contest it. She did say that I was overreacting, but accepted things, realizing as she said that she couldn't help herself or give up her playthings.

I did catch a bit of good luck. After court costs and the lawyer, a Mr. Ernest Southerland esquire, I was only down a total of $685. Well, I guess one could make the case that there's an upside to everything.

At any rate, all said and done, I was sad, she was sad; everybody was sad. Well, I'd learn later that William the kid, and no I never called him Billy the Kid, was upset. He was upset because my soon to be ex-wife wasn't as enthusiastic as before. Seems the divorce kinda had her on a downer though only God and Dear Abby could've said why.

What was surprising was, that with me officially out of the picture, Kursk decided to make a run at Rhena. Read, he wanted fuck her more often. Well, she was a great fuck, really kinda unequalled. This latter fact, Kursk making a serious move on my ex, would have really negative consequences and that sooner rather than later.

"So your hubby decided to be greedy," said Brad Kursk.

"You don't need to be snide, Brad. He's out of the picture, so let's just forget him, okay?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he said. "Whatever. Anyway, I have someone I want you to meet."

"Yes? Who?" she said.

"Name's Johnson, Calvin Johnson." He caught her look. He laughed.

"He's just a friend. You'll like him," said Brad. "Anyway, dress nice. He's kind of a V.I.P, got some bread. We'll be having dinner with him tonight if that's all right," said Brad. She nodded her okay. She wondered who the guy was and what he was being introduced to her for.

"Okay, if that's what you want," she said. He nodded.

The Whiskey Sour was busy. It was Friday night and it was also local pay day.

Sean and Marissa were just leaving and saw them come in. His mood darkened perceptibly. He faded into the back toward the restrooms drawing his wife with him. Marissa had finally seen what he was looking at and followed his lead.

They were able to slip out without being seen. "Wasn't that Arthur's wife?" said Marissa.

"Yes, but they're getting a divorce like I told you.

"Marissa, the guy caused the death of our daughter and the ruin of our family. I can't be around him. I'm afraid of what I might do," said Sean.

"Sean. I understand," said Marissa. "But, if he was any part responsible for coming between Arthur and Rhena…"

"Yeah, we gotta talk to Arthur," said Sean.

"You say it's the same guy that messed you and you wife up, your family?" I said.

"Yes," said Sean. "And, he was with your wife and another guy."

"What the fuck." I said. "My wife, was she all lovey-dovey with him, them?"

"No, if she was lovey-dovey with anybody it was the other guy. A little older, walked with a limp, needed a cane actually," said Sean. Kinda odd a looker like your wife messin' within the likes of those two."

My demeanor darkened I'm sure. "The other guy? Gray-brown mop, kinda leaned his head to the right when he talked?" I said.

"Yeah, I guess, not sure about his head leaning, but he did have gray-brown hair. You know him?" said Sean.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do, and it ain't good." I said. He gave me a questioning look.

"Unless, I miss my guess, he's the guy I beat up that got me sent to the joint?" I said.

"You're shittin' me," said Sean. "'Cuz, like I said before, the other one is the guy that I beat up that got me sent to the joint," he said.

"Fuckin'-A?" I said. "Sounds like you and me got ourselves a little job to take care of."

"Do yuh think!" he said.

RHENA:

Well, he's gone. My man is gone. There was nothing for it. I couldn't play around behind his back. One, my Arthur is too volatile; he could hurt someone real bad if he found out the wrong way. Brad is first water testimony to that little reality. Two, I couldn't do it to him. My Arthur deserves better than me: someone who will treat him the way he wants to be treated.

I liked watching the traffic as it rolled up and down the street delivering people on their way to work or wheresoever.

Brad would be over pretty soon before lunch he'd said. We'd do it. He'd thrill me, and then he'd be gone. Something was outta joint, out of kilter with that. A couple of hours twice a week of dazzling sex and then the daily grind. Seemed like there should be more to life than that.

I felt like laughing-at myself! I gave up the whole rest of the week in order to have those few hours with William the kid and Kursk the gimp. Well, I had to take some of the blame for Kursk being gimpy. Yeah he was fucking me when Arthur caught us, but I was the one that was willingly spreading my legs so that he could. Oh yeah, it was definitely a shared responsibility that one.

And now there was going to be another player in the mix, this Calvin guy we'd be going to the bar with.

Kursk had not let me know where we were going until we pulled into the lot. The Whiskey Sour was a place I'd been to only once before. It was an okay bar, nothing special. It had the virtue of being in a part of town neither Arthur nor I frequented.

Kursk had sworn that this Calvin guy was cool, but there was something about him that made me feel uncomfortable. He did have nice manners; I'll give him that.

At any rate, Kursk had said that he might be bringing him over with him today. Well, Kursk had doubled teamed me with friends of his in the past, not often but a few times. It'd mostly been okay. Today would likely be just another such experience if he did indeed bring the Calvin guy with him.

"So that's the deal," said Calvin. "All you do is introduce us to selected dates that Brad will set up for you; Brad and I will take it the rest of the way." Kursk had indeed brought the man over, but not for sex; well, as her Arthur used always say, there was an upside to everything. No, he had brought him over for purely business reasons.

I looked at the two of them with what any outside observer might have diagnosed as a quizzical expression. But, that analysis would have been errant. I was angry and filled hatred. Hatred that erupted suddenly in my belly and without the slightest bit of reserve.

The fucking assholes were users and ruthless and arrogant to a degree that was only equaled by the dark angels: those that had gotten themselves thrown out of paradise for their presumption.

I would be their nemesis, the archangel wielding the flaming sword of retribution, exacting a terrible price for the presumption of the two very mistaken males across the tables from me. I nodded as if in agreement with them as I sipped my wine.

There were smiles all around, touched glassware, and more smiles.

I was shocked to get the call. "Rhena!" I said. "What?" She shut me up. I listened attentively to what she was saying. Having talked to Sean and knowing the score as I did-to the extent that I did-hearing Rhena outline her plan over the phone was nevertheless stunning. We hung up. We'd be meeting in one hour.

We were at a table in the back. The Blue Collar had been closed for the past hour. It was 3:00AM. Danny was with us.

"Let me see if I get this straight," said Sean. "The assholes are wanting you to prostitute yourself to create a list of customers, with money, who the two of them, Johnson and Kursk, can exploit, read sell drugs to. That about it."

"Yes," said Rhena. She looked over at me. "Arthur, that man hurt us, and I hurt us, I know that too; but, I have it together now. If you'll give me another chance-well…"

"You and I will be talking, Rhena, but first things first. We've gotta bring these two down, and I mean hard," I said. She nodded.

"I think I might be able to help with that one," said Danny who had been listening attentively to the whole thing. My Pamela has a few connections. I'll have her drop a dime on those two. Should be a piece of cake. But, Rhena, you will have to testify; I'm no lawyer, but I'm figurin' that's gonna be the final nail in their respective coffins," said Danny.

"Not a problem," said Rhena, looking around the table at the three men.

Rhena and I did talk. She and I talked and we, the two of us, talked to Giles Hampton. Giles Hampton was the assistant district attorney.

"Mister, Hampton, My husband and I are, or rather have been, on the outs. We've been on the outs because of my need, as I thought, to have men other than my husband; and no, I am not a prostitute. All of that said, I will have no serious problem with setting those two assholes up. So yes, I can sleep with their selected victims and nail their collective asses to the wall without the slightest upset or ill conscience.

"They, together, decided to put me in this situation for that there can never be any forgiveness. So, let's bring 'em down," said Rhena.

"I looked over at my wife and saw her in a different light, a new light. Yes, my wife was a "for free" whore. But, she was also a woman of character. Talk about confused issues. How was I supposed to deal with that!

"And, you, mister Reardon, how are you with all of this?" said mister Hampton.

I looked over at Rhena; her face was impassive-determined. "I'm good, as good as can be expected. I just wanna bring 'em down too. The one caused me to lose several years of my life; I wanna return the favor," I said. "And, for the record so does my bud Sean." He nodded.

"Yes, we'll be talking to mister Riley later today. Since he was an eyewitness to the meeting his input will be useful as well," said Hampton.

"Has this Kursk fellow started the ball rolling yet, Missus Reardon?"

"No, but he is supposed to call me later today. I have a feeling that he might have something set up. I will let you know when I do," she said.

"Good, good," said Hampton. "I'll be waiting on your call."

Over the next four weeks, Rhena had four dates. All wealthy businessmen, all more than happy to find a discreet supplier of coke, not to be confused with Coca Cola, and that at bargain prices. The company of Johnson and Kursk was into volume sales not a boutique operation.

All of the sales to the targets were monitored, logged, and controlled by the D.A.'s office. We waited for the axe to fall. Why didn't the D.A. nail the bastards at the first opportunity instead of waiting? Simple, they were hoping to net some bigger fish along with Johnson and Kursk.

"I wanted to be back home staying with Rhena while the investigation played out because I felt that she could be in serious danger. But, Hampton thought that that might tip off the bad guys, so I held off. It was the night after the fourth show that Rhena got the call. Then I got the call Then Sean got the call: us two from Rhena.

"You wanted to be here," said Hampton, as Sean and I, who had come together, pulled into the darkened parking lot alongside the waiting black SUV.

"That we did," said Sean, "that we did." I nodded, my enthusiastic agreement.

Two detectives brought the handcuffed men out of the bar and into the night. A.D.A Hampton approached them and read them their rights. I was smiling, but Sean was grim; well, his baby had died because of Johnson; his motivation was way different than was mine.

Sean stepped away from me-we'd been hanging back watching the show unfold-and approached the two perps as they were being put into the back of a black and white.

"You're going to love it at state, Calvin. I have friends up there that will be making your acquaintance. Oh yeah, they're going to love you, literally love you," said Sean.

"Riley! What the fuck!" said a surprised Calvin Johnson. "You…?" Then the door slammed on the two of them and they were gone.

"We got their supplier too, a truly big fish. He's being escorted downtown even as we speak. For what it's worth I appreciate the help of all of you, especially Rhena's," said Hampton. She didn't have to do what she did. "But-she didn't accompany you two down here?"

All of a sudden I was concerned. I pulled my cell and made the call. She answered on the fifth ring.

I was seated across from her. Sean had just arrived and joined us.

"I know he turned out to be a pig, but for a while, a long while, we had something going," she said. "I couldn't bring myself to watch as he was taken away." I nodded.

"Rhena, somewhere along the line our lives, yours and mine, got screwed up. I don't know how. You belong with me, not with Kursk or those other guys. Certainly not with guys like that William kid you were doing it with. Or, are you still doing it with him?

"No, no. He's moved on and so have I. I don't have anybody special right now," she said. The look she gave me had question written all over it, but what question?

"Rhena?" I said. Sean interrupted us.

"You guys look like you need a little time alone. I'm headin' on home. Marissa and I have a lot to talk about too," he said.

"Oh-oh, Sean, Sorry. Didn't mean to ignore you," I said. Rhena covered her mouth as though she'd just realized her own faux pas.

"No problem. This is a transition day is the way some people might think it, for all of us. You guys behave. I'll be seein' tomorrow or the next day," he said. And then he was gone.

"Good man," I said to Rhena. "An honorable man."

"For sure," said Rhena. She changed the subject.

"Arthur, take me out to dinner. I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm famished," she said. I smirked.

"Sounds like a date, Rhena. You asking this boy for a date?" I said. Her turn to smirk.

"I guess so, kinda," she said.

The food was good and it had been a good day. What goes around does indeed come around, at least it did for me and for Sean.

Rhena and I sat across from each other eyeing each other while sipping our wine.

"So, here we are," I said.

"Indeed," she said. "Arthur, you remember the story of King Arthur, right. I mean the legend and all of that?"

"Right, but I'm no king, Rhena. I'm just an average Joe trying to get by and trying to figure out why the love of his life couldn't see her way clear to make me the love of her life," I said. She ignored my side issue and stuck on topic.

"Arthur, that old king was called the 'once and future king'. Well, I was wondering if you might be my once and future husband," she said. I stared at her. I wanted her in the worst way. Yes I did. But share her? No.

"Can't share you, Rhena. Just can't. So… " I started.

"No, I get it. I finally get it. But, that said, I can change and I have," she said. "I aim to be your one man woman now if you'll let me," she said.

"Change? You've changed?" I said, really speaking mostly to myself. "And how would I know if you are on the nup and up."

"I don't know. But, I am. You're not hooked up with anyone are you?" she said. I stared at her some more.

"No, not at the moment," I said.

"We could try living together. I think in time you'd be able to see that you could trust me again," she said. Well, there it was. The prime issue: trust. I nodded.

"Maybe we could try it that way and see," I said.

And we did, and it's been more than a year since that night and the holidays are fast approaching and I have a present for her. She'll be getting it on Thanksgiving Day. A day we'll be spending at the Riley's.

We'll be getting remarried on Christmas Day. All of our friends are going to be there including my old cellmate Demetrius who'd gotten out just before TG Day. As an added attraction Associate D.A. Hampton will be in attendance with his wife as well.

Speaking of the D.A. the news came down that after a lengthy trial Kursk and Johnson got twenty years each for a bevy of crimes both state and federal. Their buddy the supplier got twenty to life. Turns out he was also convicted of the second degree murder of a rival. Mister Hampton esquire loves us. Helluva note.

-----------------------------

   Series:Darnell and Carmela
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:He's dumped; he's saved; he's redeemed.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/59626/darnell-and-carmela
Published:2009-03-02
My name is Darnell Lamm, that's Lamm with two M's. I'm a clerk at Bradley's Super Market downtown, or I was at the time this story begins. This is my incredible story.

"Okay, Sam, I'm on my way, and I'm walking not driving, so don't worry about me, okay. Sheesh! You're worse than my mother, rest her soul," I said, as I exited the Iron Skillet. Sam watched me go out and smiled; he could smile; he had my back, read looked out for me almost every night.

The Skillet was my favorite watering hole; hell, it was my only watering hole. I was a regular there after work almost every night. Since I lived and worked but four blocks away, I never had a problem with drinking and driving. Tonight, though, I would normally have driven: it was thirty-one degrees and brother that's cold, especially with a twenty knot wind adding the wind chill factor.

I was shivering and cursing myself for being too cheap to call a cab. Well, next time I'd remember-probably.

The street was dead mortal silent. No cars, no hubbub, just silent. As I passed the doorway to Jed's market, I heard something. It was like-chattering. "I looked more closely. Huddled in the doorway, as far back as it was possible to get, was a woman, no a girl.

I stared at her. Homeless, I figured. Homeless, hopeless, and freezing to death.

"Miss, are you all right? Can I help you?" I said. She just stared back at me. She said nothing. "Miss, you can't stay here; you'll freeze to death."

"Huh?" she said

"Miss, let's go down to the all night donut shop," I said. Well, I couldn't just walk away and leave her there could I.

She looked at me strangely, like she had just thought of something. She struggled to get up, and she came with me. I helped her walk; she was stiff as could be from laying there in the cold. And, I could tell by the look of her, as she stood, that she was just skin and bones. This was not good.

We made it the one block up and one more over to the donut shop. We took a table with fixed chairs in the back-I hate fixed chair seating, but it's what they had.

"Hot chocolate?" She nodded. I ordered two and a couple of chocolate éclairs; this girl needed the calories. I paid, and brought them back to her. She was rubbing her hands together desperately trying to warm up.

I looked her over closely for the first time. A teenager, I thought: thin, raven hair, sunken eyes, and a pasty complexion: this waif was not going to survive another night like this. Her clothes weren't exactly ragged, but all she had was a light windbreaker, sneakers, and a dirty print sundress; not exactly winter wear in Columbus, Ohio.

"Say, what's your name? How long have you been on the streets?" I dared ask her.

"And, how old are you?" I added, thinking I already knew the answer.

"Carmela, Carmela Long. A few months. I'm twenty-four," she said, her teeth still chattering. She saw the surprise on my face when she announced her age, but she said nothing.

"I take it you have no place to stay?" I said, realizing how obviously ridiculous my question was before it was even out of my mouth.

"No," she said.

Okay, she was homeless, and she'd been that way for months! I had to get her out of there, and safe.

The walk to my place was short, four blocks, but I didn't relish the idea of trying to get this little bag of bones that far on foot with her stumbling along at a snail's pace. I pulled my cell and called a cab.

She didn't struggle. She was going to the home of a complete stranger, and she said absolutely nothing. She just nodded when I'd suggested it. I wondered if she were at all afraid of what some strange man might be trying

to do to her. But, no, I think all she was thinking about were the éclairs she was wolfing down and staying out of the cold.

The cab ride was short, but I still had the walkup to negotiate with my little victim of the night.

Struggling a little, I was able to get my new boarder upstairs to the apartment; it was a three story walkup, and I was on the top floor.

"Okay, Carmela, I am going to put you to bed. It's almost 3:30AM," I said. I laid her on my queen size bed and took off her shoes. Her socks were filthy and they smelled something awful, and they were full of holes. Jesus, how could a nation as rich as the USA allow such misery to be. Damned Wall Streeters, I thought.

I pulled the comforter up and around her and she snuggled under it. Her eyes flickered, a hint of a satisfied smile flashed in my direction, and she slept. I headed back out through the kitchen and its small dinette which flanked my tiny living room and its skimpy complement of furnishings.

It wasn't much, my place, but it was warm and cozy and, well, it was home.

I sacked out on the couch; it was but a few feet from the door that separated me from where my guest was sleeping soundly.

The sun is the only alarm clock that I own, and it worked perfectly today. The bad news is that I had to get up to turn it off. I pulled the curtains about half way closed and went into the kitchen to put the coffee on; I had a splitting headache, and the exercise wasn't helping. Looking at the wall clock, I noticed it was almost 10:30AM. It was then I remembered that my bedroom was occupied. Carmela? Right, her name was Carmela. I called down to the coffee shop across the street. It was late for breakfast, but I knew that Clyde would be there cooking. I called down to double my usual breakfast order, albeit three hours later than usual. I asked for it to be delivered; something I did from time to time when I was hung over, like now. I was glad I had the day off.

I knocked on the bedroom door. I heard some rustling around, and then some desperate running and coughing. "Carmela? Are you all right?" I said, listening closely at the door.

"Uh-uh-yes. Uh-uh-who are you?" she said. She was obviously confused. I smiled. This was going to be interesting.

"I'm Darnell Lamm. We met last night."

"Huh?" The door opened, and she was still dressed in last night's clothes; well, what else would she be dressed in."

"I'm Darnell Lamm," I repeated now face to face with her. "I found you last night. Do you remember?" I said.

I could see that she was processing the information I was unloading on her, and she wasn't sure exactly how to respond. I took the bull by the horns. "Look," I said. "Take a shower; you need it worse than I do. I've ordered breakfast up too. After you've cleaned up a bit and eaten we'll talk, okay?"

"Okay," she said. She was clearly very timid and unsure of everything.

After the shower, she emerged looking refreshed. But, she was again dressed in her filthy clothes; I'd be getting her some new stuff. The food arrived just in time. I paid the delivery boy and spread the Styrofoam takeout containers on the table. I'd set the coffee maker up some minutes before and it was almost done brewing; it smelled good.

We looked at each other, and I wondered about her past, why she was on the streets, where her family was. So I asked.

"Where's your family?' I said, sipping the black elixir.

"Don't want me. They took my baby away from me: it was illegitimate in their eyes, so they took it away from me," she said. "I left after that."

"I see. No job obviously?"

"No, I had one, but the manager kept hitting on me, so I left. I should've let him screw me; it's been tough," she said.

We talked for some time. "We've got someplace to go," I said. Finish up.

"Where?" she said.

"You need clothes. I've got a little money saved. We'll get you fixed up," I said. She stopped chewing; her mouth was still full of food. She swallowed.

"You mean it?" she said. Twenty minutes later we were standing in front of an ATM. I had five hundred in my savings; it was all of the money I'd been able to save-what can I say; it costs a lot to live in the city. I pulled out four hundred and handed it to her.

We headed to the strip mall a few blocks up the street. I told her to knock herself out that I'd wait in the Denny's across the street. She smiled at me and asked me a question.

"Mr. Darnell, I mean Lamm, is that a birthmark on your right cheek?" I'd seen her staring at me funny a few times, and I'd wondered why; now I knew.

"Yes, kinda unsightly huh?" I said.

"No, no, it's just kinda star-shaped and I wondered if it was an injury or something, that's all," she said.

"No, it's a birthmark," I said, repeating myself. She waved to me and left to shop. I never saw her again.

I waited for some hours before it became apparent that she'd disappeared on me. Well, no good deed goes unpunished, I guess. I headed back to my apartment. The manager's daughter was waiting for me.

"Mr. Lamm, my dad wondered if you could pay the rent today," she said, smiling.

Jenna Wilcox, my landlord's daughter, at twenty-two, was six years my junior. Pretty and sexy I had the hots for her and she knew it.

"Yeah," I said, "come on in." I wrote the check and handed it to her. She put it on the table, leaned forward, wrapped her slimjim arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. Six months later we were married.

Jenna and I got along good those first years. The sex was good, the marriage typical, and the economics of it maybe a tad above average. We had just celebrated our fifth anniversary when the shit it the fan.

I lay next to her now wondering what I had done. We had been married for five years. We knew each other did we not? I had thought so, but now I wasn't so sure. No, that's not right, I did know for sure, and the answer was that I, at least, did not know her.

What the fuck was the problem? We had just had sex. She'd orgasmed and so had I. Then out of the blue she said something that I will never forget to my dyin' day regardless of what happens to us in the final analysis.

"Darnell, you don't satisfy me. You're not terrible in bed. I just came; I have to give you that; and I-we-usually both do. But it's not enough. Tonight was a test for me, for you too. Darnell, I have taken a lover, and I am going to keep on seeing him. I had to tell you. I can't go on cheating on you like I have for these past several weeks.

"I'll understand if you want a divorce," she said.

I looked at her in such shock that I think she was beginning to laugh, but she checked herself when the tears started clouding my vision. Well, I guess she still did have some feeling for me, after all. "What?" I choked. It was all I could think of to say.

"I know this is a shock. I don't want a divorce," she said. "I love you not him. But, I will not tread on your pride and my self-respect, by treating you like an unknowing cuckold.

"It's up to you, dear, if you want to stay married," she said.

I looked at her and my feelings for her, my love for her began to evaporate. My heart was broken. It wasn't fair. Soon my emotions took over and began to fill me with despair. "Is your lover near?" I asked with a calm of my own that I did not feel.

"No, tonight was just for us. I told him I had to be sure. I am now," she said.

I looked at her face, so calm and-frank. "You know," I said, "when I married you, I had long thought, I mean seeing all of the stuff that was happening around us: my friends, yours, strangers in the news; that no one could ever really trust someone else to be true, rely on them. But, I changed my mind after we began going together. I really thought I had found my soulmate, my true love, the one that I could trust. It's obvious to me now that I was right in the first place.

"Thank God we don't have children," I said, as I pulled on my pants and slid my tee-shirt over my head.

"Darnell, I wish-" She stopped in mid sentence to watch me. "I wish it weren't this way. I don't want you to hurt, and I really mean it. But, it has to be this way. But, we can still have sex once in a while if you really want it. I won't cut you off completely; I told him that. He wanted me to, but I told him you were too good to me to do that to you."

"You say sometimes," I said, as I finished dressing. I stood and stared at her. I wanted to cry, scream, even hit her; but I just waited.

"Huh?" she said, finally.

"You say you and I can have sex sometimes. How often is that? Once a week?" I said.

"Well… " My face felt hot. I was-nervous-psychologically shaken.

"Once a month," I said.

"Something more like that," she said.

"And him, how often?' I said. She looked down not answering me.

"Once a week?" She still didn't answer me. "Two or three times a week?"

She looked up at me. "Darnell, there is no need to talk about him. But, yes, maybe two or three times a week or so with him. I won't throw him in your face, Darnell. You need never meet or even hear about him. We're not trying to humiliate you. And, you're no unknowing cuckold. You're my man, my main man. It's just that sex-I can't go on faking it anymore. I need to be able to be, do, be myself. He fulfills that need for me. But, in everything else you're the one and he has no say."

"And, I don't, haven't, I mean satisfied you all of these years. You've been faking it all of these years!" I said.

"Darnell don't torture yourself. Like I say, you can get off once in a while. Have me, and I promise to make it nice for you," she said.

"Mercy," I said.

"Huh?" She looked questioningly at me.

"A mercy fuck, maybe once a month if I'm good that's what I get. That's what you mean when you say I can get off once in a while. Well, what if I go out and get me a girlfriend, you know to get myself off more often?" I said, finally starting to stand up for myself. What if I do decide to get a divorce?

"Darnell, I told you, I'd understand if you want a divorce. I don't think it's the best thing for you though. In the distribution of assets-well.

"And Darnell, you won't get yourself any little bit of fluff on the side, I know you; you love me. And, no, when you and I do it, it won't be any mercy fuck. It will be making love. It will be recommitting ourselves to each other. I told him that, you know. That you and I were committed to each other that we love each other.

"He didn't want me to tell you about-us. He thinks your male ego won't be able to handle it very well. Well, he doesn't know my man like I do. Like I said, I know you love me and will let me have this. That's how strong my marriage is, I told him," she said. She actually looked proud of herself-no-of me!

I needed to know who this guy was, who my competition was. "Who is he? I said.

"His name doesn't matter, Darnell. You don't know him. It would just bother you to know his name. Let it go. Let's just be together like before, well, almost," she said.

"I can't do this, Jenna, I can't. I'm going out. I need to be alone for a while." I'd finished dressing. I turned from her and left. I was sick to my stomach, both because she had so totally humiliated me and because my marriage of five years was ending, and ending badly. I was ending badly.

She made some noises about not wanting me to go out so late, but she knew I had to have some space and didn't really push very hard for me to stay.

I had my jacket and the clothes on my back, my wallet, and absolutely no idea what I was going to do. Out of the blue, I remembered the waif that I'd tried to help out years before. I wondered how she'd fared. Her story had been similar to mine in that those she'd loved and depended on had shit on her. Of course she'd shit on me. Well, I made up my mind. I headed for a nearby motel. It was midnight. I'd shack up there for a night or two and make up my mind how I was going to handle my wife and her lover. Well, that was my plan. Plans don't always materialize like we might expect.

I rose early. I showered and dressed. I called in sick to work; I needed the day off. After eating at Denny's, I went to the bank. The shock I got there was unnerving. She'd cleaned everything out. That was what she meant when she implied that a divorce would not be economically good for me. She, and her lover, had planned on making me their wiling cuckold and provider while holding me in thrall. Well, I might not be much, but I'm not going to be fucked over without a fight. Someday, I'd have mine; I had no idea at that moment how long that someday would be in coming.

She'd left two-hundred in the account and another two-hundred in savings. Everything else was gone: CDs, cash, even the safe deposit box was empty, all my important documents, passport gone. I closed the accounts. I headed back to the motel with $460 in my wallet. I spent another night and hit the road. I decided to just disappear.

As I strode along the street downtown, I wondered what she'd be thinking as I made no effort to contact her or return home. I wondered if she'd feel any guilt about leaving me so few options and so little money, essentially fucking me over every which way she could. My eyes narrowed. Whatever happened, to me, someday I would get mine back.

I paid for a forty dollar bus ticket and headed for Indiana. I had no papers, no proof of identity, except my Ohio driver's license, oh, and my ATM card which was now worthless because of my closing the accounts they were based on.

I had to find shelter and a job and fast.

It was the seventh of May. Unable to find a job, I was fast running out of cash. It was then I realized that I was now jobless, homeless, and derelict. That was the first night of my new status: I was a bum.

"I don't know Melvin. He's just disappeared. He's been gone for a week and the store hasn't heard from him. I guess laying it on him like that was a bad idea after all. Like you said, his pride couldn't handle it," said a concerned Jenna, as she sat across the table from her lover, Melvin Goode.

"Jesus, I was afraid of this," he said. "No word at all then?"

"No, none. He cleaned out the last monies from the checking and savings accounts and closed them. He's got a little cash, but not much, and he has no credit cards; you know he never believed in them.

"He's gonna have to call sooner or later. He can't last long on the funds he has," she said, hopefully.

"He can last out there forever, Jenna. All he has to do is find a job, any job," said Melvin.

"What am I going to do, Mel? He was paying the bills. I don't work. I never have. I have no skills," said Jenna.

"Well, I could move in here with you? I work. I can take over the bills. But, if I do that, you have to divorce Darnell and marry me," he said. She looked at him strangely. She nodded.

The streets were cold during the winter. I thought about moving to Arizona, but that would cost money, and I had zero funds. At least the bay of the warehouse was out of the wind. Jesus, how I hated the wind.

Fifteen years, now, of this bullshit, and not a day of it not thinking of Jenna and wondering if she even gave a shit. My mind often returned to that last week in Ohio before I'd left my home, my wife, my job, and all hope of any kind of life. Oh, that's not right either; I had a life. It was a life of self-pity and despair, but what the hey, it was more than some folks had, right.

I wondered if Jenna had divorced me; I was sure she had. Probably married her asshole lover. What a laugh. He'd cheat on here too. Fact was she just wasn't all that hot a lover. Who was I kiddin', she was a great lover; I was the asshole mediocrity, if that even.

The weather wasn't too bad, yet. Fifty degrees, Friday, and 6:00PM the big animated sign on the bank across the street announced. I huddled in the shadow of the supermarket's loading dock; I checked the dumpster every day at this time; they usually dumped the wilted produce and sometimes other stuff at this time of day. Hey, it's how I shopped these days.

I'd have to head back to the warehouse and the cover of its receiving bay soon. I didn't want Carlos trying to steal my place again. If he tried, I had my shiv, and I knew how to use it; one did have to protect one's turf.

A black Lincoln pulled up a few yards a way. I wondered what the owner of wheels like that was doing at a low class market like this one. No beluga caviar for sale inside here for sure, I thought.

The uniformed driver got out and opened the door for the lady passenger. He was a big guy, looked like he probably doubled as a bodyguard. For her part she was lovely. Gray business skirt and jacket, dark hair, 34B cups, and a butt to die for. Way out of my class for damn sure. For the first time that day I smiled to myself. The smile faded as I saw her advance toward me. I unconsciously shrank back into the shadows trying to become invisible.

She came up in front of me, staring at me. It looked like she was trying to decide something.

"What's your beef, lady," I said, more than a little uncomfortable with her being there, staring at me.

She just continued to look, and then nodded to her companion, the driver. He came toward me. He grabbed me by the arm and started to lift me.

"Gently, Albert, he's mine," she said.

"Hey, what the hell is going on! I don't know you. Leave me alone," I said, as forcefully as I could.

Albert hustled me toward the Lincoln. Some passersby looked on amused. I was not amused.

"Hey, this is kidnapping!" I protested. "What the fuck are you… " The big man stopped, held me fast and spoke to me.

"Listen, bub, the lady wants to talk to you. After she does you can do whatever you think is right, okay?" His words, interrupting my protestations, and my train of thought stopped me. What could this rich broad want with me. It sure as hell wasn't my money or my obvious good looks, which I didn't have any of.

I was seated in the back, while the woman and the driver were up front ignoring me.

We headed into town. He pulled the Lincoln up in front of some trendy restaurant with a French name emblazoned over it. He came around and opened first her door helping her out, and then the back door.

He clearly expected me to debark, but I was getting real hot under the collar. "They ain't gonna let me in there," I said. "That's one of those ties only places, and you may not have noticed, but I ain't wearin' no goddamned tie."

"Just get out, please," said Albert. "The lady wants to have a few words with you, and then I will take you anywhere you wanna go, okay?"

"I muttered something about him bein' lucky I was in a good mood. Total bullshit of course; he'd have beat me right handed; then left handed, and then fed me to the fishes, but I had my pride.

I almost had to laugh at myself. Pride? Pride wasn't worth a fuck; look where it's gotten me, I thought. Lost me a home, a wife, a good job, my self-respect, and now I've been kidnapped by some middle-aged rich broad. Jesus was my life fucked up. I was going to have to have another long and serious talk with myself.

I was led by the arm, gently, but by the arm into the main dining area of the fanciest restaurant I'd ever been in. The maître 'd greeted us and didn't even seem to notice the rags I was wearing, or how I smelled if it came to that. I knew I smelled like last week's fish dinner, but not a peep out of him.

I wasn't stupid. Clearly the woman had influence and he wasn't messin' with her choice of dinner companions. Finally, seated, Kong disappeared leaving me to the tender mercies of my captress.

"What would you like?" she said, smiling.

"Look, lady, I don't know what this is all about, but it's getting cold outside, and I gotta get home-back," I said.

"We can talk about that on a full stomachs, okay," she said.

"Okay, but in case there was any doubt in your mind, I'm a little short on funds," I said.

"It's on me," she said. I looked at the fucking menu and it was actually in fucking French! She saw my confusion, and giggled lightly.

"May I order for us?" she said. I nodded. I was becoming very confused. "Nothing to fancy, okay," I said. "I don't do escargot."

"Agreed," she said. She ordered in French. The waiter, who had been standing there since Kong had beat a retreat-in fear of me no doubt-noted the order and headed off to do his duty. A carafe of burgundy was placed in front of us, and damned if a tray of crackers and caviar didn't appear thirty seconds later.

I had done some pickup labor over the course of the last year, and every dime I'd made added together would not have been able to pay for the lunch that was apparently being prepared for us at that very minute.

We nibbled on the caviar and crackers, and she made a few small, and singularly unsuccessful, attempts to get me to feel at my ease. The food came. Hamburgers and fries. "Thank God," I said aloud. She giggled again.

I looked her over as we ate. Maybe forty-five, intelligent. Beautiful, as I'd noticed earlier; and mysterious. I was stuffed. I wiped my mouth on the expensive blanket sized napkin.

"Is that a birthmark?" she said finally.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything," I said. She just stared and smiled. I looked askance at her.

"You don't remember me do you," she said.

"No," I said. "I know I'd remember."

"Well, you'd be wrong then. We did meet. We even spent the night together. It was years ago," she said.

"Look lady, I ain't much, but I got a little pride left, not much but a little. I know for a fact that I have never walked in the kind of circles you walk in. We never met."

"Hear me out," she said. "Twenty years ago, you found me in a doorway freezing my ass off. You fed me, gave a place to stay for the night, and then…"

"Carmela!"

She smiled broadly. "You do remember. I'm surprised you remember my name. And for the record, I have never forgotten yours, Darnell Lamm with two m's. Sorry I ran out on you that day. I mean after you gave me the money. But, I was still very confused and wary. No excuse, I know, but I was taking care of me, then. Things are different now," she said.

"Clearly," I said.

The ice broken, we talked for two hours straight. She got my story and I got hers.

She owned the damn restaurant we were eating in, that one and fifty-seven others just like it. She'd used the money I'd given her to buy some clothes, gotten herself a job at an insurance agency, listened, invested in the market in the good 'ole days and made a killing, actually several killings, and then got out.

The restaurant business was good, and she had a talent for choosing good managers and so had prospered. Her places of business were located in half a dozen Mid-Western states.

She'd seen me by accident one day, a few months earlier, as I came out of one of her restaurants, after having worked their sculling dishes and doing general cleanup for meals and a few bucks. My birthmark was the tipster. She tried to catch me, but I was lost to her before she could find me. She'd put Kong out there looking for me. He'd finally gotten lucky and seen me digging for produce at the market just yesterday. They'd made plans and decided to shanghai me today.

"Look, Darnell, you helped me, so I'm helping you. I owe you four hundred bucks plus interest. I want you to get some clothes and a place. Then, show up here at the Chez Robards on Monday. You'll have a good job waiting for you. I owe you. Okay?" she said.

"Look," I said, "I would like to get my money back but…"

"Please, Darnell, accept my help. Don't let your male ego get in the way of this hand up. I really need to help you," she said.

I had to hand it to her. She had hit on the one argument I couldn't gainsay. My fucked up ego had got me where I was, and it was time I accepted that little reality and took a chance on getting myself out of the damnable hole I was in.

"Okay," I said. "Beggars can't be choosers, and a job is what I really do need. I'll do a good job for you too; I promise you that."

She smiled broadly. "I know you will, Darnell," she said. "She pushed an envelope across the table to me.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Your $400 plus twenty years interest," she said. "If you like Kong can drop you at an apartment building I took the liberty of arranging for you. I think it'll fit your needs."

I nodded. "Okay, thanks. I mean it," I said. I began to tear up for the first time in twenty years.

She covered my hand with hers. "Darnell, it'll be all right. It'll be a little bit strange at first, I'm sure, but you'll be fine. Okay?"

"Yeah," I said, beginning to blubber.

The job was cook's assistant: ten bucks an hour. I learned the ins and outs of the kitchen fairly quickly and the rest of the business piecemeal as I went along. I was determined to do a good job and not embarrass myself. Plus I wanted to more than earn the $400 a week the job paid me. I got a small cut of the tips on my shift too; that added another twenty to thirty a week extra to my check.

The apartment she'd set me up in was small. It reminded me of the old place I'd had when I'd found her that night twenty years before. Nothing fancy, but serviceable. Oh, and the envelop she pushed across the table to me? It had $2,000 in it: my $400 plus $80 interest for each of the twenty years. She wasn't being extravagant, but she was being fair; I appreciated that. If she were only obtainable, I would love to have been able to take her back to Ohio and rub her in Jenna's face. That would have been the crowning achievement of my entire miserable existence. But, delusions of grandeur that extravagant were not to even be contemplated. I wondered though, who her lover, husband, fiancé, whoever was.

Cal Whitley was my boss. He was a genuine chef, not just some fairly talented cook. He'd studied Culinary Arts in New York many years before and had even done a stint at Delmonico's in the early eighties. I'd been working at the CR for almost nine months before I saw Carmela again. It was a strange meeting.

"Darnell, someone out front wants to see yuh," said Cal.

"Me?" I said.

"Yeah, go on, I'll cover," said Cal. I wiped my hands off and headed toward the front. It was 11:00AM, the breakfast crowd had already cut country and we were getting ready for the lunch bunch.

I rounded the counter where the register was and saw her. She looked fantastic. "Carmela, you look great," I blurted, then bit my tongue. She was the boss and I didn't want to mess with her or make her feel weird.

She smiled brightly. "Thank you, Darnell, a woman needs to hear that once in a while," she said.

"Yeah, well if you're not hearing it enough, shoot your husband," I said. Okay, I was fishing.

"I'm not married, Darnell, but thank you again," she said. "Are you busy?"

"Well, I mean, no. I mean there's the lunch crowd gonna be here soon. I mean you know," I said.

"Well, I'm the boss, and I'm giving you the rest of the day off," she said.

"But…?"

"I'm taking you to lunch, but not here. I want to talk to you. Would that be all right?" she said.

"Well, of course, but I have to tell, Cal. I'm kinda leaving him in the lurch. I mean…"

"I've taken care of that. Cal will be all right. His wife's coming in to help him. She used to work here. She was your predecessor before she decided to go to school," she said.

"Oh, okay," I said. "Sure then."

Kong, a.k.a. Albert drove us to small bar and grill on the edge of town. The ride took seventeen minutes. I know because I kept looking at my new forty dollar watch. Not a word was spoken between us. Every once in a while, this beautiful woman would look at me and smile. I couldn't meet her eyes for any length of time; well, I was nervous; I felt like a teenager on his first date.

We pulled into the parking lot and Albert let us out of the back seat.

We headed inside of the semi-darkened, overly cool, bistro.

We took a booth against the far wall. A girl approached with menus. "You can order for us this time," said Carmela.

I looked askance at her, but she just waited for me to make the decision. "Two burgers, no fries," I said. "Oh, and a couple of light beers." The girl nodded, noted it all down, and disappeared.

"Good choices," said Carmela. "I guess you're wondering why I asked you here today."

"That would be close to being true," I said. "It's been a while. Months actually. I wondered if you were still around. But-but-it's none of my business. I mean I didn't mean…"

"Please, Darnell, relax. Okay. You're a very special guy to me. You don't have to treat me like I'm queen of the May or something," she said, still smiling all too happily.

"Uh-Carmela, you're clearly very successful and I'm just a cook's helper. A good one though, I hasten to add. Plus, you're super beautiful, and if I were any more average than I am, they'd study me," I said.

She laughed out loud now. "Yes, you are a very good employee, Darnell. I've gotten the reports. And, as for being average looking; well, that's in the eye of the beholder.

"Darnell, I have left you alone these months because I knew you had to get your bearings. You were pretty much a mental train wreck when I found you. I know what that's like. I knew you needed time. I hope I've given you enough time. Can I ask, how are you; I mean really," she said.

I leaned back in the seat. My hands dropped to my side. I looked at her. It was a true Kodak moment. "Okay, I guess. I keep going back over what happened to me. But, I feel-I guess in control of my life more than before. That's all thanks to you," I said.

"Do you still love her?" she said. "I mean after all of this time."

"No. Frankly, I want revenge. But, I know that's just a pipe dream. Hell, I don't even live in Ohio anymore. If she knew where and what I'd been these past fifteen years. Well, she'd have a good laugh at my expense, her and her lover. Heck she's probably married to the asshole," I said.

She looked at me strangely. "I have more than one business, Darnell. This one, the restaurants is my favorite; but I have several others. I do quite well, but I remain a private person. I don't go out much, and I move around pretty much incognito. It's how I prefer it," she said.

"You travel in an awfully fancy car, driven by a very obvious bodyguard to be trying to be incognito," I said.

She looked serious. "Albert is there because my ex has tried to hurt me. It's been a while since he last tried, but he's out there, and well… " she didn't finish.

"Jesus!" I said. "What about the cops! Is there anything I can do?" I felt like an idiot saying that. She obviously had the resources to protect herself without the assistance of a cook's helper.

She reached across the table and touched my cheek. "That's so sweet," she said.

"I have him under surveillance. He's tried to mess with me and my life since the divorce three years ago," she said.

"Surveillance?" I said.

"Yes, I felt I needed to keep an eye on him, and I have. The interesting thing is that the PI I hired to do the job was so expensive; that after a while, I decided to buy the agency. Cost a pretty penny too, but not as much as around the clock protection. I still have costs of course, but I make a profit from the company and now it pays for itself and then some. The PI, Howard, is my employee now as are all of his old employees, all five of them: two other PI's and three clerical staff.

"Anyway, I hope you don't mind, but I checked up on you ex," she said. "Nothing obvious or especially intrusive," she said.

I sat bolt upright but said nothing. She smiled. "She did marry the-asshole," she said; "his name is Melvin Goode."

Well, I finally knew the name of the asswipe! "They divorced two years ago. They have a child, a small boy, age five I think. She caught him cheating and gave him his walking papers.

"I checked him out too. He's not really that bad a guy, but he can't keep it in his pants. But, I guess you know all about that. He does visit the kid every month; he has visitation every third Saturday," said Carmela. "But, he's unemployed and doesn't help much monetarily."

"Jesus!" I said.

"She works now. Same job you had at one time as I recall, well, almost. She works for a supermarket. She's a checker," she said.

"So, she's gotten over me for sure," I said. "As if that was any kind of problem for her."

"Actually, she talks about you from time to time," said Carmela. "The good 'ole days she calls them."

"The PI got her to talk about me?" I said, incredulous.

"No, I did. I own the store she works at; well, I have half ownership. I bought in when they hired her. The store was going under. I had my management team put a plan for its salvation together, presented it to Henry Wilson, the then sole owner; and, he bought into it," she said.

"Carmela! Why! I mean you-you didn't-you didn't need the store; we both know that," I said. This whole thing was getting very confusing.

"Because I love you," she said, quite matter-of-factly.

"Huh?" I felt numb, stupid-no, numb and stupid. "Huh?"

"You heard me. I have since the beginning. But you were married when I came back to claim you. I didn't check up on you again, figuring you were still married, that is until I saw you that day coming out the back of one of my places here in Indiana. The rest as they say in the parlance, is history.

"So, will you marry me?" she said.

No one, and I mean but no one, in the storied history of man, had ever been as stunned as I was at that moment. But, I recovered nicely. I got down on my knees. "Carmela will you do me the honor of marrying me?" I said, ignoring her proposal.

"Yes, dear Darnell, I will," she said smiling down at me. All of a sudden there was clapping all around us in the half filled bistro. I took her hand in mine and kissed it. I smiled, stood and bowed to my audience. I pulled her up from her chair and kissed her very gently and lovingly. The clapping achieved new heights.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in conversation at her place, an amazing condo on the eighteenth floor of a downtown office building. She had maid service because her busy schedule did not allow for homemaker time.

"Okay, so you've been spying on me for months," I said smirking. "You know how unsettling that is? A man gets to have some secrets doesn't he?"

"Hmm, I don't know about that," she said. "I may just decide to keep you on a short leash." She was giggling.

"Carmela, on a serious note, why did you buy that store, really?" I said. "I mean, she divorced me and married someone else, and I don't want anything to do with her."

"Darnell, for one thing the store is showing a profit now, and Mr. Wilson is more than grateful. He handles operations, and my staff handles PR and accounting.

"But, to answer your question. I have been checking up on you, just to make sure you were okay. But-well-you have been talking about revenge on her, I mean to other employees. Darnell, I really want you to reconsider that. I know your pride was killed, and maybe your heart too. So…"

"So you bought the store she works at? It makes no sense," I said, sure that it didn't.

"Well, yes it does, if you'll hear me out. You can have your cake and eat it too. Once she sees how successful and happy you are, can you imagine how she will feel? Particularly if you show her that you are way over her and that she really doesn't matter in your life or memory anymore. She will be eating her heart out; you'll have your revenge. But-she won't be left destroyed and ruined; I don't want you to do that to her. She may deserve it, but that would leave a scar on your soul you'd find impossible to erase," she said.

"Wow," I said. "You really are something Carmela Long. You really are something indeed."

We were married two months later. A few of my old friends from Bradley's were there, Carmela had seen to that. We honeymooned in Europe, Rome actually; God how I loved that city. We stayed at the Palatino a four star on the Esquiline hill run by an old friend of Carmela's. It was superb.

We returned after two weeks of sun and romance. The love between us was phenomenal. I had been a needy bum with nothing; she had been a woman who had once been needy and homeless but was not so any longer.

Business-wise, I inherited the running of the restaurant chain. I learned that I had been first put in the kitchen, not only to give me a job, but for me to learn the business first hand. It seems Carmela was pretty sure of herself, and wanted all along to have me be operations chief of the chain. She handled all of the other business in her little empire, including the store where Jenna was employed.

I knew that at some point I would be face to face with Jenna once again, but when it happened it was a surprise.

We had just had a business meeting with some city fathers. Leases and taxes had been the main topics. Carmela suggested that we stop at the market and get some stuff for dinner. We ate in most of the time.

We headed into the store. There she was in register number three. It was a moderately busy day, and the owner Henry Wilson, whom I had briefly met at a meeting a few months earlier, was on duty.

"Hello, Henry," said Carmela as we entered. Jenna had not seen us, or if she had, she hadn't recognized me. Well, it had been fifteen years. We talked with the other owner for some minutes and then went to get the things we would need for dinner.

"You wanna go through her register to pay for the stuff?" said Carmella.

I looked at her. "No, I'd like to talk to her, but not under those circumstances," I said.

"Come on, let's ask Henry if he can spare her for a break," she said.

We did and he okay'd it.

I was sitting in the break room with my back to the doorway when she came in. I was well groomed and in a suit, no way she was going to recognize me after fifteen years until I turned around.

"Hi, you from the main office?" she said to my back. I turned around. In my seat.

"No, actually," I said.

"Darnell!"

"The one and only, Jenna," I said.

"Wha-wha-what are you doing here?" she said, her voice breaking up.

"I'm here to see you, actually," I said.

"After all of these years?"

"Yeah, it has been a while, hasn't it," I said.

She just stared as if reassuring herself that what she was seeing was not some kind of mirage. She finally found her voice again.

"You wanted to see me? I mean, now? What? Who are you? You don't work for us, but you're here in our break room. What is this?" She was uncertain…

"No, I don't work for the store. I was shopping, and I saw you checking out folks," I said, not quite leveling with her, though I had been shopping.

She took a seat across from me. "You look nice, prosperous," she said.

"You look good too," I said returning the compliment. "How have you been?"

"Okay. Work, raise a kid, pay bills. You know, the life of a single mother," she said.

"Single?" I said. I knew the score of course, but I wanted to hear say whatever she might say about the asshole who she'd cuckolded me with.

"Uh-yes, he left me a few years ago, me and Blaine," she said.

"Blaine-your child?" I said.

"Yes, he's a good boy, but a hand full sometimes," she said.

I smiled and let loose a small laugh.

"Uh-Darnell-"she looked down and mumbled something that I couldn't catch. I waited.

"Darnell, I'd like to apologize for what I did to you those many years ago. You didn't deserve what I did, or what the asshole I was involved with did either, and that's for sure," she said. "I have wished a thousand times I could undo that mistake. But, anyway, I'm glad that I was at least able to-you know-apologize.

"But, how come you are here. I mean do you live nearby? Is this really a coincidence? I mean you coming to find me like this?" she said. She was clearly confused. I didn't have to answer; we were interrupted.

"Jenna come on. The boss' partner is here and she's got bonus checks for all of us.

"Uh-sorry mister. Don't mean to interrupt, but… " said the interloper.

"No, no. you two go ahead. A body's gotta make a living. I understand," I said.

"Stick around if you want, Darnell. I'd love to talk to you; but I do need the money. It ain't easy these days. You understand." She was being physically pulled out of the room by the other woman. I just nodded as they disappeared.

A dozen employees were hanging around the check cashing booth. There were squeals from a couple of the women as they opened the envelopes that Henry, with Carmela by his side, was handing out. I slipped out and to the car. There'd be another day.

Fifteen minutes later, Carmela was sitting beside me in the back of the Lincoln as Albert pulled out of the parking lot.

"Bonuses," I said.

"Yes, it's something that Henry and I had engineered some time back. If the store made certain level of profit the employees would share in the rewards," she said.

"And today just happened to be the day you decided to pass out the largesse," I said. "I mean the day that I was gonna see Jenna again for the first time in fifteen years."

"Not exactly but almost," she said. "It was slated for Memorial Day. I just moved it up three weeks is all," she said. She giggled. I feigned frustration.

"For the record how much was the bonus?" I said.

"A couple of hundred each. Holiday money for them. They're a hard working and loyal crew," she said. I nodded. I hadn't thought about it, but now I wondered how Jenna was getting on economically. She had a son-Blaine. The asshole wasn't helping out; Carmela had found that much out, or rather her private, private-eye had. Then it occurred to me; Carmela would know about that too. This woman of mine would know everything; all she had to do was want to.

"Honey," I said, "how's she doing. I mean really."

"She's okay. You worried about her?" Carmela was smiling. She wasn't jealous, but she was smiling.

"Yeah, a little. She was stupid. I was stupider. But, I can't hate her. Hell, I don't even hate the asshole, though I could maybe learn to do that, especially since he is not helping pay the kid's way," I said.

"Well, she's hard up right now. She's got a catch-22. She needs a sitter, so even working overtime has minimal impact on her economically. Like I said, she's hard up: behind on her rent, and her phone is about to be cut off. Power bill's paid, and there's food in the house," said Carmela.

"Jesus! The crazy broad really messed up with that guy, not just dumping on me. Why doesn't she sell the house, I wonder?" I said.

"You've seen what's happening in housing these days? She's lost almost all of the equity she had and the house is worth less today than when you bought it years ago," said Carmela.

"I wish there was something I could do. I feel sorry for her," I said, almost to myself.

"Well then, you'll be glad to know that there is going to be a store Memorial Day picnic. The employees themselves thought it up. Henry is footing for the meat stuffs, the workers are bringing everything else. Oh, and I've been invited along with my husband; I've accepted," she said.

Now I was smiling. This might be fun, and I had time to prepare. Then I had a thought. "Any chance of getting the asshole to show up?" I said.

I looked over at her. I'd surprised her; it felt good. "Why?" she said.

"You know, I don't have a good reason, but I do have a feeling here. I guess down deep; I am hoping this butthead will help her out and do what's right about the kid. Stupid huh?" I said.

"No, not stupid, wonderful. It's who you are mister-help-the homeless-and hopeless," she said.

"Yeah, right, mister whatever you said," I said. I started to laugh, so did she.

"Jenna," said Beth, "did you see the partner, Mr. Wilson's partner?" She gushed.

"Beth, she was standing right there beside him handing out the checks. I even shook hands with her," said Jenna.

"No, not that. I mean how beautiful she was. Rich and beautiful. I wonder who her husband is. Probably some movie star or sports icon or something," said Beth.

"Yeah, I guess, money attracts money I suppose. I wonder how rich she is?" mused Jenna.

"Say, who was that good looking guy you were talking to in the break room?" said Beth.

Jenna frowned. "Somebody from my distant past, my ex," said Jenna.

"Jesus-Mary-and Joseph, Jenna, you let that hunk of dynamite get away! I always thought you were nuts, now I know it," said Beth.

"Yeah, you're right; and you don't know the half of it," said Jenna.

The thirty-first was a Monday; well, Memorial Day was always on Monday, right? It was sunny and it looked like the day was gonna be a little on the warm side. The good news was that the park where the picnic was to be held was well treed, so there would be plenty of shade.

I wore my Buckeye cap and large aspect sun glasses. It was going to be a little bit difficult to recognize me at first. I wanted it that way. I was going to have a little fun. Both with Jenna, and her ex-husband if I could work it; well, that was the plan at any rate.

Carmela had managed to get the man, Melvin Goode, to come. Don't ask me how. She'd gotten somebody to talk him into being there for Jenna and their son Blaine. Maybe he figured he'd play a little catch with his boy or somethin', who knew.

Jenna was among the first to arrive. She brought her offering to the common pot: German potato salad. I remembered how good it tasted. I planned on getting my share of that one.

By 11:00AM everyone was there. Of course I didn't know anyone except Jenna, but Henry had arrived and announced that it, "looks like everyone is here." So the barbecue was fired up; the pop and the beer was flowing, and the two dozen kids or so were playing big time on the jungle gyms and what all.

Carmela and I had seats under a tree near one of the barbecues. The red hot coals were going good and the burgers and hotdogs were coming off fast and furious by noon time. Jenna had so far not noticed me. She was talking to her ex and they seemed to be kind of intent on whatever they had to say to each other. I was sure she hadn't known he was coming. But, once she had spied him; he had all of her attention. Every once in a while they'd look over toward where Blaine, I assumed it was Blaine, was playing and smile pleasantly.

I took a turn at the tongs on one of the barbecues. Carmela wandered a few yards away to my left talking to Henry and one of the employees. I watched her and smiled whenever she looked my way. I noticed some guy, apparently part of the group but kind of off by himself leaning on the bole of the tree nearest me. Something was not right about him. But, he just stood there and watched the goings on.

I was engaged with another of the employees, Max, and together we were creating masterpieces of hotdog culinarity! We laughed and carried on like old friends. Everyone knew I'd come with Carmela, but no one recognized me or made any special effort to play up to me. I assumed they were giving us space, and they were.

My head snapped around as I heard the guy by the tree scream "Carrrrmelllaaaa!." He rushed toward her. She, startled, turned toward the scream, a look of horror painting her features. I rushed to her.

Something glistened above me as I interposed myself between her and her assailant. I looked down at my right pec. A meat cleaver was buried four inches, I would learn later, in me.

I watched in horror as blood spurted from the wound. At that same instant, somebody rammed himself into the perp and they crashed to the ground with a sickening thud. Screams! Everybody seemed to be screaming. I slowly melted earthward. There seemed to be an aura of quietude that began to envelop me; it was all quite natural, but I knew I was hurt real bad.

I had a sense of activity around me, but I didn't seem to be part of it.

It was dark in the room as my eyes flickered open. There was a low pitched sound coming from somewhere, a beep-beep. I was in a hospital room, that much was clear. I was very tired. I heard footsteps. "Doctor!"

"Good. He'll be okay, now," said a man's voice. I turned to it; it was a doctor checking me out. "But, it was a close thing," he said to the female on the other side of me.

Next that I knew the sun was up. Carmela was beside me. "Hello, my husband," said my wife.

"Hi," I squeaked. "How long?"

"Three days and two nights, but the doctor says you'll be fine now. "You saved my life you know," she said.

"It was the least I could do," I said.

"How are you feeling?" she said.

"Okay, I suppose. What happened to the bad guy?" I said.

"Your ex's ex killed, him, my ex, if that makes any sense. He actually killed him. They fought, and that Melvin guy smashed his head in with a skillet," said Carmela.

"There's someone else here to see you," she said.

"Who?"

Carmela turned and waved to someone to come inside of the room.

"Hi Darnell," said Jenna. "So you're the boss' new hubby. Quite a step up from me huh," she said.

"Jenna…"

"It's okay. I felt pretty put out at first by your not telling me, but it all seems so-nothing-now," she said. "We'll have to talk sometime.

"Carmela, your wife, hired Melvin contingent upon your approval. I guess he'll he working for you at some restaurant if that's okay.

"Uh-and he and I-well-we're getting back together. Probably," she said.

"Darnell, I am so sorry for all of the pain I put you through. You never deserved any of that, and if I'd had any sense…"

"Water under the bridge, Jenna. Long gone. And, your hubby is okay to work for me, no problem," I said. "And, yes, we'll talk sometime. I need that, but not today, okay?"

"Sure," she said. "I'll leave you alone with this good woman, now. Get well." She turned and walked out.

"Yes, I am fine. I got out of the hospital six weeks ago woman. I'm fine now. Just no heavy lifting for the next few months, but for all intents and purposes, I'm fine! Okay?" I protested.

"Well, okay. I'm just concerned is all," she said.

I surrendered. "I know, and I love you for it," I said.

We were sitting at the little table on the back veranda of the condo. Many floors below the people moved like ants about their daily tasks.

"I still can't get over the way things have come together," said Carmela.

"Me either," I said. "Last night was interesting. Their confessions were-I don't know something."

"Yeah, but I think they were sincere in their apologies. It was all years ago, Darnell; it's time to let it all go. They were young and so we're you-we. Like you said, I think it was, in the hospital: water under the bridge. How do you feel about her now?" said Carmela.

"Strange. I don't hate her. I thought I did once. I blamed everything on her. And, she does get a lot of the blame for what happened to me, and him too. But, part of it was me. I didn't have to let myself fall apart like that. If it hadn't been for you…"

"I'll take some credit, Darnell, but you saved me-twice. I figure we are more than even. Someday I'll probably be able to figure it out-maybe. But, like you said, it is just too strange and too complicated to make any sense for now," she said.

"Yeah, for sure, ' I said.

"Where are you going to have him work?' she said. "You know he hasn't had a job in months. He was ashamed to even be around his kid, Blaine, because of his not having a job."

"I understand why he needs to work. I mean his pride and of course the practical side of it all. But for us?" I said.

"Well, he did help me, sort of," she said. "I no longer have to be looking over my shoulder for that nutcase ex of mine. He'll be fine. So where?"

"I'll leave him where he is at Chez Robards, of course," I said. "He's been there for weeks now and Cal says he's doing an okay job-not as good as I did of course."

"Of course. I knew you'd choose there. You sure you're okay?" she said, changing the subject.

"Carmela!"

"Okay, okay," she said, smiling. "I'll be quiet about it."

-----------------------------

   Series:David and Jennifer Hart
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:He's a knight in shining armor; she wants a night w/big dick.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.web.archive.org/web/20170306161751/www.literotica.com/s/david-and-jennifer-hart
Published:2021-08-06
To any outside observer I might have seemed to be mumbling. But I never mumbled. I was reciting, as I had every day since I was six years old, the Code, the code my uncle had taught me, the chivalric code. A good man's duty was as follows: to protect the weak and defenseless; to despise monetary rewards; to avoid unfairness, meanness, and deceit; to speak the truth at all times; to honor one's vows; and to respect the honour of women.

The Code, the Chivalric Code, oh yes, I knew it by heart. I lived it by heart; it was the code, the order of life. I was David Hart. Placing the carnation inside the open coffin of my uncle, my heart was heavy.

"I will never disrespect the Code, my uncle, never!" I said aloud. The funeral over, I headed back into town. I would miss my mentor and surrogate father. My own biological dad had died, and my mother too when so very young, as I saw it. But, Melvin Hart, my father's younger brother, had done me right.

Melvin Hart, had died but two weeks gone, but not of natural causes. He had given his life to save a defenseless and homeless girl in an alley next to the apartment building that the two of us lived in.

The three thugs, all in their early twenties, that had assaulted the helpless fifteen year old runaway, were still in the prison hospital ward; they'd been there since the set-to with my uncle, again but two weeks gone now. They'd all soon be tried for rape, second degree murder, and a host of lesser charges. Uncle Mel would be satisfied I knew.

"Sorry to hear about your uncle Davie. Bad shit," said Carlos. Carlos was my favorite bartender at the Hammer. Mexican, honest, and good at his job: there wasn't anything else. I nodded.

"Yeah, the baddest," I said. "But, yuh know, I think he was glad to go out the way he did. He was an ex-marine you know. I think he knew he won the fight even though he was dying. He was gone when I got there, but those other guys; they didn't look too good. And, they're still in the hospital, and one of them may yet die from the beating he took. If he doesn't he'll be joining his friends in prison for a very long stretch."

"Well, good," said Carlos. "At least there's that."

"Yeah for sure," I said. "Going to a graduation the day after tomorrow at the university. A friend of mine is getting out. Gonna do the walk across the stage," I said. "He's a lot smarter than me; kinda envy him if the truth were to become known."

"You talkin' about Victor?" said Carlos.

"Yeah that's a true thing," I said.

"Yeah, well have fun," he said. "And come visit us tomorrow night, you and him, the drinks will be free." I smiled, threw a twenty down on the bar and went out.

"Congratulations, Vick," I said.

"Thanks bud," said Victor.

"Will you be staying in town again tonight?" I said. We'd gone out partying and dancing the night before at the Hammer. Frankly that he was able to negotiate the stage on more or less steady legs was something of a minor surprise.

"No, I'm already packed and on my way to California. Be well, David. I appreciate you being here today," he said, and then he was gone. Gone to a job in aerospace: Boeing as he'd told me.

Victor Grantham and I had been friends since we were six years old. Lived next door to each other. His parents, like my own were now gone. Father abandoned them when he was two. His mother was gone to cancer but a few months before his walk across the stage. I was his only close friend and the nearest thing to a relative he still had.

I was two hours from home. I decided to eat before rolling out. Pete's Pizza fit the bill. It was crowded, but the line was moving okay. I got my pizza and hot wings and chowed down. The table next to mine was occupied by a family of four: a mom, a dad, a young girl, and young lady who was obviously a graduate. She still wore the grad hat thing.

I watched them leave. She was pretty, the graduate. I had me a beer, finished up, paid, and headed out for home a hundred miles distant.

The rain was coming down in sheets; I reduced speed to a highway crawl. I made the turn around a risky curve: the drop-off was scary. The man was waving desperately. I slowed and pulled over ahead of them. The rain was really pounding down.

"God bless you, sir, for stopping. The car just crapped out on us I Barely made it to the side of the road," he said. He nodded toward the three women inside of the car. I recognized the one immediately; it was the grad from the pizzeria.

I smiled inwardly. Helping ladies in distress was my middle name. Oh yeah, I thought; uncle Mel would be proud.

I had him pop the hood. I saw it almost immediately: the alternator fan belt was just hanging there. Their battery was dead.

"You need a fan belt and a jump," I said. The nearest shop—and one I knew about—was back in town. This was going to be three hour job counting travel back and forth.

"But how can I… " he started.

The rain had slowed. I hadn't noticed that miss college grad had joined us by the open hood.

"If you guys want to pile into my ride, I'll take you back to town. We can get the belt, and I can install it and jump you," I said. "I mean unless you just want to stay here with the car. I can go and come back, but it'll be a couple of hours."

"You'd be willing to do that for us, for strangers?" he said.

"No problems. I ain't got no place to go," I said.

"Dad," she said. "I'll go back with our knight in shining armor. The rest of you can stay with the car for security." Her dad looked at her.

"Okay, I guess," he said. "I mean… " She was already walking over to my car and getting in.

"Okay," I said. "By the way, my name's David Hart."

"Randy Cross," he said. "Your passenger there is Jennifer Cross." She was already fastening her seat belt in the car. That's my wife Judy there and Jennifer's little sister Blanche, she's just ten years old.

"Very nice of you to help us," said Jennifer, as I got situated in my seat. "We all appreciate it very much."

"You're quite welcome," I said. "No problem really."

I did not burn up the road on the way back to town. But, I didn't waste any time either. I went immediately to the parts shop and got the needed belt. We were back on the road in less than ten minutes.

Our conversation was pretty much as one might expect after the initial hussahs and hosannas relating to how wonderful a guy I was for saving them.

I found out she was a just graduated Business major. She was going to be working for some real estate firm. She was twenty-two years old. And, she told me something that made me hope for an opportunity to see her again. She told me she had no boyfriend. No girl says something like that without a reason. I just hoped it was the right reason; well, right as far as I was concerned.

Back at the car, I installed the fan belt and gave them a jump. Told mister Cross to have his battery checked when he got back to town. He tried to pay me, but I just waved him off. No, didn't need the money, and what I really wanted was a chance to see Jennifer again. The good news? There was the fact that they lived in New Town, as did I. Sometimes things did work out the way one hoped.

I'd given mister Cross my card. Well, even though I was only twenty-one, I did have an A.S. degree in auto-mech from Alfred J. Steele CC, and I was a licensed welder and aircon man working for Allied Motors, a used car dealership and importer. I hoped that the next time they needed a car tended to that they'd call me. I just couldn't get Jennifer out of my mind.

That lucky happenstance occurred but two weeks after my debut as a knight in shining armor. I was just finishing up a brake job when I heard the familiar voice.

"How yuh doin' David," said Jennifer Cross.

"Miss Cross, Jennifer. Good. Yourself?" I said. So far I hadn't embarrassed myself.

"Fine. Got a couple of things you might could help me with," she said. I nodded my willingness to be her slave—well, to help her.

She led me over to where she'd parked her canary yellow Corvette. "Wow!" I said. "That your ride?" She smiled.

"Yes, yes it is," she said. "Need an oil change and maybe a tune up. My dad said I needed a tune up too."

"Okay, no problem," I said. "If you can come back at closing, I'll have it ready for you."

"Great. But—uh—David, there is one more thing," she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"I'm not going to be available Friday evening until after 6:00PM. Can you pick me up then?" she said.

"No, no," I said. "I mean I will have the car done tonight, not next Friday." It was Wednesday. Friday was still two days away.

"No, no," she said. "I understood that the car would be ready today. I'm referring to our first date," she said.

"Huh? Uh? I mean?" I was fast losing control of my thought process.

"You do want to date me don't you?' she said. I got control of my conscious mind, took a deep breath, and replied.

"Damn straight," I said.

"Good. So Friday evening then?" she said. She handed me a slip of paper with her particulars on it. And, when I say particulars, I mean her particulars. Address, cell phone, measurements, and a small picture of her face: all of it on a facsimile of a business card. I'd never seen anything like it. Never heard of anything like it. Jesus, this woman was very likely way-way out of my league! Oh, and did I say measurements. Try 34-22-36, 5'8", 130, oh yes and C-cups. Me on the other hand: 5"6" and 150; very well-muscled, my uncle's fault; but only so-so looking. And definitely A-cups—pretty much flat chested actually.

I picked her up in a very upscale neighborhood. The house? Early American on maybe three quarters of an acre: Two-story, wood frame, separate three car garage; it was a very nice place. Friday evening had been slow in coming, but it did finally come.

Dinner at the Foghorn, dancing at Juliana's, and coffee at a purveyor of fine Scottish cuisine—McDonald's.

The night had been a roaring success. She was indeed clearly out of my league, but was at pains not to rub my nose in it. A half dozen other guys asked her to dance at Juliana's she turned them all down.

We were parked out in front of her house; it was a little past 2:00AM.

"I'd ask you in, but my mom might look askance at that," she said. "And, my dad definitely would. And, yes, I know I'm a college graduate and over twenty-one, but I will not disrespect them; they've been the best."

"I can dig it," I said. "But, so, how about next Friday night?"

"Of course. And tomorrow night too?" she said. I nodded, stunned at the fact that she'd even given me a chance to date her at all let alone taken the lead in our—what—relationship if that's what it was, or, was becoming. I had questions, and I would have the answers.

Our first date was very good and very platonic. Our second date, Saturday night, was also very good but not platonic. We parked near a cliff just outside of town overlooking the valley and its lights below. We'd moved to the back seat and had been kissing and doing some light touching; well, I was touching; she was letting me touch—her breasts—through her clothes when she decided to take things to the next level.

"Would you like to see my breasts, David?" she said. Her smirk was a challenge.

"Oh my yes," I said.

"Then unbutton my blouse, unhook my bra and look at them," she said. I didn't quite faint from nervousness and anticipation. I did as she commanded and her breasts fell free. I didn't dare touch without her telling me to do so; then, she did.

"You can feel me up, David. I want you to," she said. "Just be considerate and gentle with them. They're kinda sensitive." I swallowed and almost choked on my own spit. She could see my distress and laughed at me. Of course I didn't know it at the time, but Jennifer Cross—soon to be Jennifer Hart—would be laughing at or feeling sorry for me a lot in the future. Had I considered such possibilities at the time, it is doubtful that I would have cared in any event. But later much later I would care.

On our third date a week later she undressed me. She played with my cock while remaining dressed the whole time. Claimed it was her turn and refused to let me have any say in the matter. She jacked me off and seemed surprised when my cum actually hit the back window of the car; well, I didn't jackoff all that much, and I was loaded with sauce and that because of her.

"My oh my, for such a small cock you sure carry a load, don't you," she said. I swallowed; I seemed to be doing a lot of that when I was with her. Her remark about the size of my penis stung a little, but she more or less just took it in stride: she was commenting on the fact of it but making no judgments.

It was some two months into our dating that I finally got into her pants. I licked and sucked at both her pussy and her anus on her orders. She came and came and came when I was ministering to her pussy. Then, I fucked her. I fucked her three times. I fucked her missionary, doggy, and missionary again. She didn't cum from me fucking her, but did seem to like me doing her regardless.

In our fifth month together I proposed. She accepted and three months after that, in an elaborate ceremony, we were married; and the family Hart was born.

Almost immediately after she'd graduated Jen had been hired by a well-known real estate company, Whitcomb and Hardy real estate brokers. She was on flat commission, but she did well and was pulling down $40k by the end of her first two years on staff. Me?

I had a better deal. I was hourly with certain incentives and perks that came with a job that required the multiple skills and licenses that I possessed. Since I had been essentially home schooled by my uncle after the third grade, I had skills damn few of which anyone anywhere near my age commanded. I had not only been schooled in selected classics, I was an expert welder—and it is a major skill—and I could also work metal and literally create parts for most cars when the occasion warranted such—the company had a fairly well-appointed machine shop. Similarly, I was licensed to fix, install, and service automotive aircon units. And of course I could rebuild virtually any internal combustion engine ever made. The result? I was making almost $80k annual by my age twenty-three. Not unheard of, I was sure, but rare.

By end of year two, we were doing quite well, and thinking about having children when we got the bad news. Jennifer could not bear children; it would be too dangerous for her to do so.

At the end of year two of our marriage, something happened that set us back plenty. Jen's older sister Lana and her husband Joe Martin were killed in an auto accident. The horror of such an evil happening was compounded: The dead parents left two little girls. They were Maribel age 7 and Clarissa age 8. We made a decision. We would adopt the two little girls and raise them as our own. We were pretty much all they had.

Almost from day one I bonded with the babies. Jennifer too although maybe not to the same degree as did I. She, Jennifer, was loving make no mistake, but she was so committed to her job that sometimes the kids could be a nuisance I supposed. My case was a little different. I never brought work home with me: at 5:00PM Monday through Friday I was off and the ultimate homebody, husband, and father. Jen on the other hand almost always brought work home, or so it seemed. This last fact did cause some minor friction between us on occasion. Nothing major, just some spirited discussion about me and the children being neglected. I needed my woman; but, she was the boss—always had been, and I mean from the beginning.

Regardless of the little bumps in our marital road, the future was bright for us. Although Jen daren't conceive, we did have two children who were blood related, well, to her. Additionally, my best friend, after his initial foray into the California job market returned.

"So, you say things are going well for you two," said Emily Rhodes, Jennifer's best friend from their college days.

"Yes, he does what I say, and never questions me. He's pussywhipped, and it works for us," said Jennifer. "He's happy. I'm happy. It's good." Her friend snickered.

"You shoulda gotten yourself a professional. Blue collar and you don't exactly match all that well," said Emily.

"Maybe not, but he's a hard worker, and he makes pretty good bucks. True he's a bit of a cipher at parties, but I can work around that: he's my gofer if you get my drift," said Jennifer.

"And while he's goffering, you're fucking; that about it?" Jennifer all but snarled at her friend, ignoring her remarks.

"Anyway, by gofer you mean slave, right? How's he in bed? Still the same old same old?" said Emily.

"Like I've to you a zillion times before, he's not that bad. I've been able to train him to the point that he gets me off once in a while. Not like Pike does, but he's okay actually," said Jennifer.

"I don't get it, girl. If he's so less than wonderful, why don't you just dump him and pick up with Pike?" said Emily.

"And, like I've also told you a zillion times, because Pike earns half of what my David earns. Culturally and sexually David has issues, but economically he does it for me. I'm not giving that up for a longer dick, not even," said Jennifer. The two of them laughed.

"So, it wasn't all sunshine and roses out there?" I said.

"No. Sunshine yes, but the pace and the pressure were not to my liking, so no roses one might be tempted to declare," said Victor.

"Setting up your own company then?" I said.

"Yes, consulting. I know the game, and I can analyze most any engineering project related to production efficiency, and that without getting the unions all riled up. Well, it is what I do," said Victor Grantham. We talked for a while, waiting on the girls to call us in for dinner.

Just then, Jennifer and her best friend from her college days, Emily Rhodes, came in. Victor and Emily would become fixtures at our place over time, really almost members of the family.

The years passed and we prospered. And, then we didn't. And then I was lost and sick at heart—and—divorced and alone. She'd had me served at work. Kind of cold, cruel I thought.

Fifteen years we'd been married. They'd been good years, or so I'd believed. But, evidently they hadn't been for her. Somewhere along the line she'd decided she wanted something else, and I was no longer part of what she wanted.

Holding the papers the stranger had handed me in my office, at first I couldn't believe it. Why would she do such a thing to me? I'd be talking to her, hopefully, to find out what I'd done to make her want to do this this thing.

Of course I'd tried to call her, but I'd gotten no answer. Well, clearly she didn't want to talk to me, maybe even so much as to let me know the reason she didn't want me anymore. I would have thought that she'd have been a little more considerate. Over the many years we'd been together, I'd done everything I could to make her happy, but, I guess not enough.

The locks on the doors had been changed and three suitcases full of my stuff had been delivered to me at work, so at least I had my clothes. I appreciated that. I knew the locks had been changed because I'd gone home right after work to try and talk to her. There'd been a note attached to the door, in an envelope actually; she'd not been there. The note just informed me that I could only talk to her through her lawyer whose card had also been in the envelope.

I went to an ATM nearby the house and had gotten the max: $500. The savings had been cleaned out but not the checking; I'd gotten that information from the ATM too. At least she was leaving me a few bucks to get started in a new place. Again, and oddly, in spite of it all, I appreciated her thoughtfulness there too. She had destroyed my heart, but apparently she was trying to make the sting a little less problematical for me.

I had to wonder if it was another man. I'd find that out soon enough I guessed, but for the moment it just didn't matter.

I found a motel not far from work and set up camp. I figured to be staying maybe a week maybe two. But, after that I'd have to be finding me a more permanent place to hang my hat. And, no I wasn't going to fight for the house; I didn't want it.

JENNIFER

"I feel bad about it, Emily. The guy's been my rock all of these years and to do him like I have; well, I just don't feel too good."

"Pike'll make you forget all of that," said Emily. "And, David will be fine. He'll find himself another honey and get on with his life."

"But will he?" I said. The thought of my husband getting it on with another woman caused me pause. Could he? Would he? Well, of course he could, would. But, then I wondered. He lived by that code of his, of his uncle's. He might not accept that I was divorcing him: for him a vow could never be broken for any reason. If that were the case, if I knew my David, he'd consider having another woman cheating and would stay celibate—forever! Jesus if he did that!

Okay, I was feeling guilty. And guilt was what it was. I'd had a good man, hoped to be getting a better man, and now I was actually concerned that the first man was going to hurting real bad and that was my doing. Of course I was guilty. Now, the question was, could I live with the guilt?" I had to break the rules. I had to go see him. I had to do that. Oh yes, that was a no brainer. I had to.

I got the call at work, on my cell. She wanted to meet with me after all, at the Foghorn. The Foghorn was where we'd had our first date together. It looked like it would be the place where we'd have our last. The sadness of it was almost beyond telling.

I was early, an hour early. Well, I needed a couple of drinks before she destroyed me, as though she already hadn't.

She dropped down in the seat across from me. Jeans, T-shirt, and flats, no makeup: she wasn't there to tease me for sure. "I left you all of the money in the checking account," she announced without ceremony. "Is it enough for you to get situated? Thinking about it—well—I can spare you some more if…"

"No, no, it's all right and thank you. But—can I ask why, Jennifer? Why are you doing this?" She deflated.

"Davie, I am so sorry for this. I wanted to tell you, end us face to face, but I didn't have the guts. Well, until now. It's not you, Dave, it's me. I guess if I'm honest with myself, I'd have to say I'm selfish. Can't help it, just am," she said.

"Selfish for what? If you're selfish, it has to mean that you want something that you were not getting from your—our—current situation. So what?" I said. She nodded.

"Honestly?" she said.

"Yes, I guess," I said. I wasn't sure I wanted honesty, but I was sure that I would always be wondering if I didn't hear it. So, I'd listen and bemoan my mistakes and bad fortune later.

"Davie, you and I were never a good fit. You're a kind and beautiful man, and you are by far the gentlest soul I ever knew. But…"

"So why aren't we a good fit?" I said.

"A lot of things, Davie. I'm a college grad and you're not. I'm taller than you. You drink cheap beer; I like twenty year old scotch. The sex is well… Like I said, a lot of things," she said.

"And your new man?" I said. Yeah, I was taking a flyer. Her eyes flashed open.

"I don… " she stopped. "Davie, I'm sorry. I was about to lie to you, but I won't. You deserve better. Yes, I have a man. He works where I do. It's mister Pike. You've met him a few times over the years. Like I say he works where I do."

I remembered the guy. We'd never said more than hello, nice to meet yuh, good to see yuh, but I did remember him. Tall, good looking, and kinda arrogant. He'd never actually insulted me, but I'd had the feeling that he thought I'd married above my station. Now, he'd taken her away from me. I felt myself smile. Yes smile.

"You're smiling," she said. "Does that mean we're okay, you and I?"

"Jen, you are the love of my life; I will never abandon you. We will always be okay. I want you to be happy; it's what I live for," I said. She gave me a look that spelled confused.

I was indeed smiling, but not for the reason she likely thought. I was smiling because I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the man she was trading me in for was a loser. He was going to suffer greatly by comparison when she had to wake up beside him for years on end. I knew it as a great truth. But, she didn't want to hear that from me at this point; I needed to change the subject.

"Jen, can I ask you? I mean would it be all right if I got some of our family photos? Would that be all right?"

"Of course. I will send you the albums and you can choose or copy whatever you want. Would that be good?" she said.

"Yes, that would be fine," I said. I had another question. I almost hated to ask it. For sure I was worried about the possible answer.

"Can I ask you, do Maribel and Clarissa know?" I said.

"Yes, and as if I even had to say it, they will always be yours and mine. We will always have them between us. Nothing can change that. And, in case you needed to hear it, they agree that that should be the case," she said.

Her words made me feel a little better. Not good, but better. "Thank you for that," I said, she nodded.

We talked a little longer. And yes, I know I didn't press her about the sex thing. I was sure anyway that that had to have been part of it. And, I had not asked her how long they'd been cuckolding me. But they'd been working together forever, so likely a long time, but who knew. Not me. Not yet. Those things, and a few others, I would sort out at a later date.

One thing I was sure of. I made a lot more money than did Jennifer, and though I didn't know how much mister Pike made, I was pretty sure it wasn't near what I did. In our little meeting, she hadn't mentioned alimony, nor had it been part of the papers she'd had me served with. The savings account, that she had commandeered, was for sure community property. I knew it, and I'm sure she knew I knew it. It had had somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty thousand in it as far as I knew: Jen kept the records for us. Twenty grand was not chump change for sure, but not all that much either in the final analysis. I didn't care about the money. I needed enough, but not more than enough, and that was it. Jen had in fact just offered me more—presumably from the savings account—to get me started in a new place if I needed it; I appreciated that, and I didn't need it. So, maybe I was wrong about mister Pike's income; maybe he did make more than I thought. I guessed we'd be seeing.

The divorce was final in seven months. We eyed each other as the gavel sounded. She tendered me a smile; I shot one, a small one, back to her; well, I still loved her. She would be mine to love and protect forevermore regardless of what any court, or even she, said. I'd married her. I'd vowed to be her anchor and to make sure she was loved and safe and protected to the best of my ability for the rest of our lives. I would never try to gainsay those responsibilities as I saw them to be.

There was to be no alimony. She refused to even consider it, and I heard that mister Pike tried to force the issue, but she wouldn't hear of it. She did get the house, and it was paid for; I didn't want it. The kids were grown, so there was no issue there. I did get the pictures and that but two days after our meet up. The only thing I wasn't going to be getting was her. The hurt from that was incalculable; but, I would not let her see that.

I was emotionally crushed. I found it difficult to work and the guys at the shop were so supportive that I could barely stand all of the sympathy. I sat 'em down asked them to cool it. They understood and things normalized.

Two weeks later I was still a highly paid mechanic—but lonely and alone.

I had forgiven, in my mind, Jennifer for dumping me. It was a hard thing for me, but I understood the weaknesses of people and, as she indicated, their selfishness. Still, seeing her, up close and personal with her new man; well, that was something that I just couldn't bring myself to do. So, we split the holidays and the like with the children. Maribel and Clarissa didn't much like it, but they did understand, and honored my request.

It was three years after the fact. The holiday split had been inconvenient. I'd get holiday or special event number one, and Jen would get number two in any given year. But, then, Jen decided she didn't like the arrangement much: too much criticism from the children for one thing. So, she made an effort to change things.

I don't know for sure who it was that suggested the method to their madness, but I suspect the girls were in concert with Jen on the matter.

It was Thanksgiving and it was my turn at the holiday; Jen and her new husband, Aaron Pike would be getting Christmas.

I arrived at the appointed time: 1:00PM. As I hung my coat on the foyer hook, I turned and was met with a flurry of welcoming hugs, kisses, and well wishes. The kids were there. Randy and Judy Cross were there. And, so was Judy's sister Chloe who I had only met once before some years past. And, so were Aaron and Jennifer Pike. I was stunned. Jennifer for her part was stunning. I could feel my cock rise to the challenge. I think she noticed too; she didn't smile or giggle but she may as well have.

Seeing her there, again, like that, was what I had feared most in the world. Suddenly I wanted her, and I wanted her bad. And if I stayed, I would have to be dealing with that need for the whole time. Dealing with it and knowing that I couldn't have her couldn't fulfill my need, my desperate need. Three years and there had been no sex for me; I would not cheat on her. Being here with her so near was going to be hard. I had to get out of there.

"I see there is some mistake. I'm sorry. I thought that this was my day. I will be going. Sorry! Sorry!" I repeated. I started to leave, but Maribel grabbed me by the arm and led me out on the porch. We were soon joined by Clarissa.

"Dad, you can't leave said Maribel. Clarissa and I set you up. We need you to get by the divorce and not be such a stick in the mud when it comes to mom."

"Girls, you see the way your mom looks today! She's beautiful. Not just pretty but beautiful. I can't be around her for hours knowing that that other guy is going to have her tonight and I won't be. I mean knowing that she doesn't want me. You have to understand," I said.

"Dad on some level Maribel and I do understand. You love her and always will. Okay. But, you have to be the man we know you to be and deal with your loss, which is our loss too if it matters. Aaron Pike's not our dad, you are. We need you here. Please, dad. Stay. Okay? We love you." I was fighting back tears of loss, loss of the love of my life, but I nodded my okay to their request. A man's daughters—well…

Everybody did the eggnog thing; I added just a little more hooch to mine; well, I needed it; nobody seemed to notice, or, noticing said anything.

A couple of times Jennifer came up to me to say things; I can't remember what. Or, she would repeat her joy at the fact that I had decided to stay, hoped I'd be at all of the future do's. Even good 'ole Aaron made an attempt at conversing with me, but he soon realized that that was pushing it and backed off. Randy, my ex father-in-law was the one I talked to the most.

"She still loves you, you know," he said. She just doesn't realize how much yet, but she will."

"We were married a long time, mister Cross. I would think that she'd have realized it already if she was ever going to," I said. I wasn't being sarcastic, just factual.

"Hmm, but before now she had nothing to compare you with. Now she does. Aaron's not a bad guy. But, he is a trifle arrogant and a bit of a snob generally. She's complained to me about him once or twice. Nothing earth shattering, but he definitely does have some issues that I don't think she'd anticipated before the fact," he said. I nodded. Maybe my original analysis of their chances of making it was a correct one, I thought.

We ate. The food was good; well, it always was. Dessert served there was some animated conversation around the table mostly relating to the girls and their new boyfriends—read soon to be fiancés. Yes, they had 'em. I hadn't met 'em. Jennifer and Pike had obviously. It did bother me that Pike'd met their significant others and I hadn't. Wasn't dad supposed to meet the boys who were sniffing around his daughters? Was Pike taking my place? I didn't think so, but so far neither girl had mentioned their men friends to me, and they didn't now, like it was not important for me to know about them. Yes, indeed, it did bother me and I mean a lot. Judy noticed me flinch when Pike talked about how much he enjoyed meeting the young men. I was silent, not smiling, but not making any waves.

Dessert over, Judy came to me. "I don't think they realized just how important it was for you to meet them first instead of Aaron," said Judy. She was clearly seeing right through me.

"It is what it is," I said. I was near the door at the time. I looked over there, saw my coat, and waved toward everyone, forced a smile, grabbed my coat, and hurried out.

I heard a slight rise in the buzz of the conversations as the door closed behind me, but I was moving fast. I needed to get out of there.

"Why did he run out like that?" said Jennifer to her mother. "Did somebody say something to him? Aaron?"

"He felt a little funny, I think, because Aaron was being so effusive about the girls' men friends, and he, David, hadn't even known they existed let alone met them," said Judy.

"What? Huh?" said Jennifer. "Oh my God. I can just imagine…"

"Yes, indeed," said Judy. "He's thinking that Aaron is in the process of taking his place with the girls. He didn't actually say that to me, but it is what he's thinking. I'm sure of it. He knows the girls aren't his blood relatives. So, I don't know, maybe he feels vulnerable," said Judy.

"Oh my God! Nothing could be further from the truth. Aaron is trying his best to be accepted by the girls, but take David's place! Never! One, they'd never allow it. Two, Aaron knows better than to even try something like that because I'd never allow it," said Jennifer.

"It's not a matter of what's true or untrue; it's how your previous man perceives the truth," said Judy. "I mean I could be wrong about things, but I think you need to consider the possibility." Jennifer nodded.

"Yes. I will. And, I don't think you're wrong. And things were going so well today too," said Jennifer.

"Hmm? Well? Maybe it would be more accurate to say that you had taken some baby steps toward normalizing things, but well or good? Don't think so," said Judy.

"Oh momma, what am I going to do?" said Jennifer.

"Try and talk to him in a few days. You might want to get the girls in on the act too, daughter mine. That man is suffering and has suffered ever since you divorced him three years ago. He doesn't deserve any of it either to my mind," said Judy. Jennifer nodded her understanding.

"And Jennifer?" said her mother.

"Yes?"

"Did you notice how he was looking at you today?" said Judy.

"Yes, I saw it. But what could I do? I know he's horny. I know he needs a woman, but I just can't be that woman, not anymore," said Jennifer. He mother nodded.

"Yes, he needs a woman, almost any woman. I don't think you should invite him to anymore parties or holidays that you attend until and unless he finds himself a woman of his own. It's counter-productive: it only adds to his heartache…"

"Momma, I hate to say it but you're right. Not maybe right, but right," said Jennifer.

Well, I gave it the old college try and it was a bust. I'd had to get outta there. Even my babies didn't see me as I saw them—us.

I went home and packed. I left all of my job stuff, uniforms, keys, some other stuff in the cubicle and headed out. I had maybe six hundred in the bank and a full tank of gas. I would be out there for good now.

Yes, I know, I still had my responsibility to watch over her, but I just couldn't be where I could be accosted by her. No more convivial holidays; those would just not be happening anymore. And not just no, but hell no!

I would do my best to make sure she was okay and safe. But it would be via random checkups and not per my weekly check-ins with my daughters. I'd email them and keep up communications that way: have them email me if their mother needed me. It was the best I could do if I wanted to keep my sanity.

I landed in Pleasant Valley, a small berg two hundred miles from New Town. I don't know what it was for sure, but my new environs helped me to block her from my conscious mind. Oh, I still dreamed about her at night, but at work, Hardin Engine and Auto Body Repair, I was mostly free of her, "mostly" being the operative term.

I was beginning to be able to deal with it, my miserable life.

"Mom, that's crazy. Daddy could never think of something like that, imagine something like that," said Maribel.

"Ditto that for me," chimed in Clarissa.

"Well, it seems to be a true thing nevertheless," said Jennifer.

"Mom, we like Aaron. But, he's Aaron to us, not dad," said Clarissa. "He's just an okay guy. He doesn't do anything bad, and while we wish you and dad were still together, we know that things happen to people. So we're not being judgmental or laying down any rules."

"Clare, Mare, I appreciate it that you've been decent to Aaron; and, well, understanding of what's happened to the family. And we are still a family: your dad, you two, me; and yes, Aaron too.

"But, the one thing that kinda stands in the way of all of us getting what we want and need is that your dad still thinks of me as his wife. He always will, I guess. And, I still have a place for him in my heart too. But, he and I well we just can't well…"

"Sleep together. We get it, mom. Dad needs your physical body as well as your good feelings for him. We saw him on Thanksgiving, mom. He had a hardon all day long. He had it for you," said Maribel. Jennifer looked away.

"It was almost funny in a tragic sort of way," continued Maribel. "Clarissa and I were talking. You and dad have been divorced for three years. Mom, I don't think dad's had a woman, even dated one, in that whole time. He just can't accept that you guys are divorced."

"Yes, mom, he needs a woman. He really needs you, but he definitely needs 'a' woman no matter what," said Clarissa.

She was naked and she was bent over the kitchen table as he push-pulled his penis in and out of her slickened cunt.

"Aaron, come on, faster, please! I need you to go faster," she muttered. He redoubled his efforts to drill her good and proper. Anyone within the room would have heard the squishy sound of his cock ramming her at light speed. Finally, he stiffened, involuntarily rose up on his toes, and squirted his cum inside of her. She was ramming herself backwards onto him cock trying to make it too. She didn't succeed.

She slid to the floor in a fetal position. Beside her sat the near ruined physicality of her husband, but he was in a sitting position back against the dishwasher.

They rested for some long minutes. The phone rang.

"That'll be the girls," said Jennifer. "I was expecting them to call." Aaron Pike, nodded. He watched her get up, with some difficulty, and go to answer the phone.

The phone was in the dinette not the kitchen, but he could hear her side of the conversation at least mostly. She returned to the kitchen and stood over his still sitting form.

"They're coming tomorrow for dinner," she said.

He got up, recovered his clothes, and headed in for the shower. She was just slipping into her sundress as he passed her on his way to the stairs.

She put the coffee on. They needed to talk. He was back down in twenty minutes and she already had his cup on the table waiting for him.

"Let me guess, we need to talk," he said. He smirked his mild irritation that he knew what the topic was likely to be about.

"Yes, and you could be a little more supportive," she said.

"Jen, I am supportive. I feel for the guy. Losing you? It'd kill me. I love you too much, way too much to deal with losing you. But, the fact is divorces happen. Mostly people just get over them and move on. He has to do that too. He just has to," he said.

"Yes, I know. But, I also know him. He's one of the original good guys. Honor is everything to him. His uncle raised him to think like the knights of old. He lives and breathes their creed. He just won't allow that it is all right for him to release himself from a vow. Once he makes one he'd die rather than betrays it.

"We on the other hand are far less honorable. And, you wonder why I worry over it and him so much?

"I love you Aaron. That's why I broke my vow to him. Love drove me to it. At first I figured that he'd lighten up on himself too and move on, as you say. But, I was kidding myself. He hasn't moved on and he never will unless something major happens to change his mind," she said.

"Well, I guess that's the key," said Aaron.

"Key? What key?" she said.

"If love drove you to break your vow to him; maybe…"

"Love? You mean you think that if he found love, genuine love, that he'd break his vow?" she said.

"That, and you formally releasing him from the one he made to you. The situation would have to be right and timing would be everything; but, I think that if he does find the right girl, and if he can think of a legitimate reason why he should accept you letting him off the hook—well… " he said.

"Kind of convoluted thinking, but I think I get where you're going.

"Hell, if I knew any girls that fit the bill, I'd set him up myself," she said.

"You'd need help, allies. He wouldn't accept you fixing him up with some other female, not directly. I mean if you actually did know some other female who might go for him. And with his less than marvelous bedroom skills and equipment; well, it might be a hard nut for sure," he said.

"Harrumph!" She said. "You didn't exactly do all that marvelous a job today, husband mine. Hell, even David can stick it in and satisfy himself."

"Yeah, maybe, but today was an exception to the rule in my case. In the case of your ex it would be the exception that he was able to ever get you off," he said.

Working for Hardin was good for me. A lot of work and the money was almost as good as it had been at Allied. I did have to work Saturdays to get it done, but I wanted to. It helped me keep my mind on something besides my broken heart; it worked for me.

It has been eleven years since the abortive attempt by Jennifer to get me reinvolved with herself and the family; and, of course Aaron Pike. Christmas was once again upon us.

I'd come back to New Town to have Christmas Eve dinner with Victor, my old bud. But he'd gotten himself into a car accident and was hospitalized. I'd gone to visit him; he'd live, but in the end I'd had to go back home. Still, rather than make the two hundred mile trek back right away; I'd decided to stay in town overnight.

I had planned to stay over with Victor anyway and celebrate Christmas the next day with him as well; well, that at some carefully selected watering hole. But, those plans dashed, I shacked up at the Coolidge Arms instead. I'd have Christmas buffet at their restaurant next door the next day, and then head out.

I decided to dress up for dinner even though I had no one to celebrate the day with. I had brought my best suit along, so I'd wear the darn thing.

I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. I wondered what Jennifer would say if she could see me know. I did look good, I thought. Probably make her jealous if I had a woman on my arm. But, no, no woman. She was my woman even if she didn't want to admit it. I sighed. Another lonely holiday.

"You've got the sads again, Jennifer. You remember what you promised me, right?" said Aaron. She smiled, but it was clearly forced.

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry. It's just on these big holidays; well, I wish he was here to share them with us. And, yes, it is kinda sad. I know he's not doing anything for them—the holidays. He needs family and that's us," she said.

"Yes, yes, I know. But it can't be helped. He just could never get over you leaving him and taking up with me. I understand. Like I've said thousand times, I empathize with the guy. But, if he won't let us help him or him help himself; there is nothing that we can do. It's that simple," said Aaron.

"I sure would like one more shot at trying to get him to join us," she said. "I'd do it different this time. I think I know just the cure for his stubbornness."

"And that would be?" he said.

"Another woman of course, and I have just the one in mind. Divorced herself. Nice looking, and sexy as hell," she said. "And she's looking for a man: a man who can support her and be faithful to her."

"He looked her askance. You're not thinking of…"

"Absolutely. It'd be a good fit, and they are made for each other," she said. "I mean their situations."

"I don't know, Jen. I mean they're so different for one thing… " She didn't see the look of—what—concern on his face.

"Yes, well he's not here in any event. So, mores the pity and we still have stuff to do before the kids get here," she said. "You need to go get some more ice, and don't forget that wine the girls like, okay?" she said.

"Okay, okay. I'm going. I'm going," he said.

He stopped cold in his tracks and stared at the man going into the restaurant. It couldn't be him. He couldn't still be in town. The town was too small for him never to have been discovered in eleven years. But, it was him. He was dressed to the nines too. Clearly planning on having Christmas brunch with somebody in the restaurant he was just now entering. All of this went through Aaron's head as he watched David Hart from the liquor store across the street.

He finished getting the stuff she'd tasked him to get and headed back—fast. He was on a mission, actually two missions, he bethought himself.

Dumping the ice in the cooler, he left the girls to pack in the beer and soft drinks. He pulled Jennifer aside. He did not want to want to clue the girls' he'd leave Jennifer to handle that task as she saw fit.

Just as he was about to tell her what he'd seen, Blanche arrived: kisses and hugs all around. The hug he gave the newcomer was a bit longer than those tendered by the others. Jennifer gave him a look. She shook it off and walked with him to the patio while Blanche made nice with the girls.

"You say you saw him?" said Jennifer. "Are you sure!" Her eyes were intense. It gave him hope that his idea, one he'd not told her about, might be accepted. But, first the game had to play out.

"Yes, positive. It was him," said Aaron. She nodded.

"Aaron, I have an idea. He won't want to see me under the circumstances, but you…"

"Me?" he said. "But, he hates me? I'm the one who took you away from him."

"David doesn't hate anybody; it's not in him. He is hurt and will remain that way forever if we can't change the chemistry here. I need you to go to him. Sit down to dinner with him if you can. Change his mind about things, his outlook. Aaron, I know you can do it. It's been eleven years; that's long enough. And if we let this opportunity pass, there may not ever be another," she said.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. Then, something seemed to occur to him. He smiled. "Okay," he said, "I can try. I will try. Be ready to join us or have him and me join the rest of you just in case."

"Yes, I—we'll—be ready," she said. "I won't let Blanche or the girls in on this unless we have a positive outcome. I will be waiting by my cell for your call."

"Good. I'll go now," he said.

I was determined to enjoy myself, single-o or not. And, I think I was, enjoying myself, that is. And suddenly, as if from nowhere, a waiter headed for me—he seemed to be coming towards me—holding a bottle of wine.

"From a friend," he said, setting the bottle down in front of me.

"A friend?" I said. Just then the friend seated himself across from me.

"Aaron? Aaron!" I didn't quite shout.

"Does a forty dollar bottle of burgundy buy me a few minutes?" he said. I looked at him like he was crazy, settled back and nodded. Well, I was curious. Curious one, as to how he'd found me. And, curious two, as to what he wanted since he had found me. It was clear he was alone, or, at least appeared to be.

"So, how have you been, David?" he said.

"Okay. But…"

"You want to know what it is that I want," he said.

"That would be a good bet," I said.

"Ideally, for you to have dinner with the clan: me, Jen, the girls, their children—your grands—Jen's sister, Blanche. You know, the clan," he said.

"Too hard for me," I said. "Too hard. Can't be around her. Too hard," I said.

"You might want to this time around," he said. "Oh, and you're looking pretty good today."

"Yeah, right," I said.

"No, really," he said.

"I can't tell you why, but when we get there, if you will indeed come with me; you will for sure be more likely than not to have made the right choice," he said.

I looked him askance and that very pointedly. "Really?" I said.

"Really," he said.

"But, I am to remain in the dark as to your motives until and unless I go with you," I said. It was a rhetorical question.

"Yes, it has to be. It'll save time and maybe other stuff. But I—we—won't know that for sure until we get there," he said.

"So you're in the dark too?" I said.

"In a sense, but different from you," he said.

"I've already ordered," I said.

"I took the liberty of already paying your tab. Oh, and we can take the wine with us," he said. I had to smile at his confidence.

"Okay, it has been a long time," I said. "How many grands?"

"Five," he said. "Ages two to nine years. Three boys and two girls." I nodded. He rose. I followed suit, and we left for the house. And, no, I wasn't especially nervous or apprehensive.

We arrived twenty minutes later. The chatter at my appearance took a bit to settle down. What surprised me was the fact that my daughters had almost immediately pulled me aside for a more or less extended confab. Well, it had been eleven years.

"I was bad, I was naughty, I was loved, and I was never to disappear like that again" were the messages that had been delivered.

I surrendered. I met the grands, all five of them. But, what I had not done up to that point was said anything significant to my ex. There'd been the initial hellos of course, hugs and kisses on the cheek all around, but Jennifer had given me space at least for the moment. I think she was as nervous as was I. But, that was about to change. And the term "change" did not nearly cover the happenings about to exhibit themselves.

I was busy talking to Blanche when I noticed that Jen and Aaron were out on the patio by themselves. I saw, through the kitchen window, Jen sink into a chair at the umbrella table. She appeared to be crying.

"Jen, we had a run, and some good times," said Aaron. "But, today we stop kidding ourselves. Every single holiday or occasion you go into a blue funk about him. Jen, you still love the guy. I think you love me too in a way, but not as much as him."

"Aaron, I don't know what to… " she started.

"Well, I do. We are going to end the charade. We are going to get a divorce. You are going to go back to him, to the man who has never gotten over you. And, who you have never gotten over.

"Aaron…"

"Jen, this is not a sad day. It is a happy day. You will be getting what you really want and need and always have," he said.

She looked at him. Was he right? Did he have a point? Was the man inside the house the one for her?

"Who are you Aaron? You're not the guy who was here this morning. I don't know what to say," she said.

"Yes, you do, you are just afraid to say it. So, I am saying it for you. I want to be happy, Jen. I don't want to grow old with a woman whose true love ain't me," he said.

"And, I had such great hope that him and Blanche might make a good match," she said. She didn't see the look that came over him as she said those words.

He'd turned his back to her. The silence was proverbially deafening. "Jen," he said.

"Yes?" she said.

"Jen, I might as well get it all done now. Jen, Blanche and I, well, we've kinda come to an understanding," he said.

"Blanche… understanding… huh?" said Jennifer.

"I think we've kinda fallen in love, Jen. Yeah, I know it sounds weird. But it's what's happened. And before you ask, no we haven't done the biblical thing," he said.

"How? What? Fallen in love! How… " she started.

"We, she and I have been talking for the past month. We wanted to try and get you to either shit or get off the pot in terms of your ex. And well, we kinda came to the realization, and that at the same time, that you would never get over David. And well, that left us both in a quandary. Then well, we kissed. And, Jen that's all we did. But, that said, the kiss was telling," he said.

Suddenly she rose and went into the house.

She came at me like some kind of Amazon. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me like she never had. "I love you David Hart."

"Blanche was standing but ten feet away with her mouth hangin open. "Go get your man," said Jennifer to her sister.

"Jen—I… " started Blanche.

"Don't talk. If you do, we'll collectively screw this transition the hell up. Just go get him it's time to eat."

The girls came in just at that moment. Confused did not begin to describe their mental state.

Dinner was quiet at first, then noisy, then quiet again, then uproarious!

Things were going to work out.

-----------------------------

   Series:Desiree and Peyton
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A not too bright wife with stars in her eyes is led astray.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/58502/desiree-and-peyton
Published:2008-11-21
Think of all the ways it might be possible to be incompatible with someone, and my wife and I are the poster children of such a list. Harken!

I'm five-six, and she's five-ten-and by the way she loves to wear high heels. Of late she's become a party animal, and I remain the prototypical bookworm. She, also of late, has become a dance aficionado while I'm more the organ-grinder's monkey. She likes TV and I hate the box. She's a beautiful woman, and I'm an average Joe in grave danger of losing my hair. All of the aforementioned being true, and as illogical as it seems, her liking parties and all, Desiree has been, again up till of late, a very insecure woman underneath.

Up until this past year or so, I had been her sole undisputed anchor. It was this latter that made it possible for a woman like my wife to love a guy like me, I guess. But, now things are different, a lot different.

About a year ago, I had the brilliant idea of trying to instill greater self-confidence and an increased measure of self-esteem in the love of my life. I succeeded beyond my wildest-nightmares! You thought I was going to say dreams didn't you. Well, as it turns out, nightmare fits a lot better. My wife no longer has any confidence issues, and her self-esteem now borders on arrogance. Okay, I have introduced you to the genesis of our situation more of which a little later. So who are we really.

Well, my name is Peyton Joseph Gillis, a direct descendant of one Lester Joseph Gillis and a prostitute. People knowledgeable of the 1930's might remember my notorious grandsire by his more common appellation-Baby Face Nelson. Not a chapter of the family history of which I am particularly proud. I mention him only because my grandma told me I looked like him, except for my being a few inches taller. I am a chemist, actually a chemical engineer: Ph.D. Cal Tech. I work for Metro-Tech a company dedicated to creating and producing products for the military, and, rumor has it, for certain unnamed clandestine black ops services.

Desiree Marie Gillis, my wife, is a sales agent for Sylvia Jordan cosmetics and women's accessories. In her teens her height worked against her and she became something of an introvert. It wasn't that she was completely unaware of her basic beauty, but too many boys wouldn't or couldn't see her as pretty, her being so tall. They'd talk dirty about her, but seldom asked her out on dates. Nevertheless her sandy brown hair was always a cascading around her shoulders. She had dark eyes and full lips that were so pink she almost didn't need lipstick. Her breasts were respectable B-cups. Still, her best feature was her butt; gawd her ass was prime cut! When a male, using his most disrespectful tone, calls a woman a broad, something like my wife's butt has to be on his mind.

As mentioned Desiree had had trouble with self-worth. She almost didn't get a date to her senior prom. I say almost; I asked her. She'd looked down at me, standing there in the quad that May afternoon, and thought for several moments before agreeing to go with little 'ole me. Oh, we both knew we were going to be looking a little strange as a couple, but I convinced her that what others thought was passé-I'm very good with words, a regular Winston Churchill. Convincing her of that, readers, got me the inside track to the altar with the girl of my dreams. After graduation I went directly to Cal Tech and she to USC. We graduated the same summer, four years later, with our B.A.'s. We married, and I continued on toward my doctorate completing it three very intense years later. During those three years, Des was our mainstay financially speaking: she worked and I studied.

At any rate, we got through the prom and our subsequent engagement and our wedding and the first nineteen years of married life with a minimum of problems. A major plus, two wonderful children, appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the game: Grace now 13 and Charlie 11.

We are now both aged 42 and more than merely healthy; we're in top physical shape. We got that way working out at Black Iron, a local gym owned and operated by an ex-Mr. America competitor, Jason Black. And Jason is black and Jason has lately been after my wife. Which brings me to one big ass problem, how can I get my wife back and Jason the hell outta the picture.

It was my idea for us to begin going to the gym together. I'd been going for years, and I knew what it could do for a person's mindset. It was part of my strategy to bring Desiree out of her introvertedness. And now it may have backfired on me. I mean how could I compete with a big shot body builder.

I have begun to notice little things and some not so little things too. She's started going to the gym without me at least once a week; these are usually nights when I have to work late or Saturdays when I have something I have to do or have planned. So far, no clear problem, right? But, add to that that her sex drive seems to have lessened, in terms of me. We still make love a few times each week, but not like in the past, and afterwards she's begun just rolling over and calling it a night after I cum; this, whether she cums or not; bottom line, she doesn't seem to care if she gets off! Finally, there have been the phone calls and the hang-ups before the speaker identifies himself or herself. I'm not a stupid man. Something bad is going on and it is all too clear to me what it is. I have to do something.

I stood at the door waving goodbye to Grace and Charlie. They waved back. They were excited to be going to grandma and grandpa's for the weekend. The promise of a picnic and a trip to the zoo had made their stay over at the grams something they'd looked forward to all week. I went back in and headed upstairs to the bedroom where my wife was again getting ready to go out without me. Entering the room she laid into me again.

"Peyton, it's no big deal. I'm just going to the gym with Megan and then we're going out for a bite to eat. I should be back by 10:00. Okay?"

"No it's not okay, Des. It's Friday night. We should be doing stuff together. What about us. That's the third time in a row you have shined me on for someone else, I mean as far as going to the gym. Hell, you wouldn't even be going if I hadn't forced the issue last year," I said. I was making sure she knew I was pissed.

"Yes, I know. And I am glad that you did. But you are smothering me. It's like I can't do anything without you or you get mad at me," she said. "Anyway, I'm going. Get over it."

"Get over it! Did you say get over it!" She didn't answer. She just picked up her gym bag, headed down the stairs and left. I stood there with my mouth open and fuming. I decided to do what I usually did when we argued; I got my wallet and headed for the Rusty Nail, our-my-favorite watering hole.

I sat at the bar staring into a half empty shot glass. "You look kinda down," said a voice from behind me.

I turned. "Oh, hi Sonia. How are yuh? Yeah, I am a little. Des has been dumping on me lately, and tonight it may have come to a head. I don't know; maybe it's time to move on."

"Wow, you are down. I'm sorry, Peyton. Really. You deserve better," she said.

"Thanks Sonia, I really appreciate your concern. Can I buy you a drink?" I was feeling like company, preferably female company.

"Damn straight," she said. "I never turn down a freebie."

I should explain that Sonia is a retired prostitute, and no I have never had her. I have a long held rule to never pay for something that I can get for free, and besides, she was taken-sort of. I motioned to Mel, the barkeep, to load one up for her. He delivered her usual white wine, and she took the bar stool next to me.

Mel owned the Rusty Nail and was Sonia's only squeeze now; they'd been an item off and on since she'd retired some fifteen years ago. I should note here, that at aged 45 Sonia is still a classy looking gal. Anyway, Mel and Sonia apparently never had the urge to get married, though I kinda suspect that Sonia would have said yes real quick if offered the opportunity.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asked.

"Yeah, trouble is, I have no idea what to say. I think she's cheating on me, and if I find out she is, it's over."

"For someone who doesn't know what to say you sure have a lot to say," giggled Sonia.

I smiled for the first time since Des had run out the door two hours before. It was 8:00. If Des was going to be back by 10:00, I had two more hours. I could think of worse ways to spend my time than with a pro like Sonia. She did have the knack of making a guy feel better.

"Whaddya thinking about doing?" she said. "I mean you got any ideas?"

"No, it's too new. I'm kinda down, as you observed, and a little numb," I said.

"You know who she might be doing it with?" said Sonia.

"Yeah, I think so. Jason Black. "Owns the Black Iron gym. I've mentioned him to you."

"Wow, Mr. America himself, huh," said Sonia.

"He was never a Mr. America. He was just a contestant one year, like twenty-five years ago," I said. I think my jealousy was showing through.

"Yeah, just a contestant. Let's see, what else: six-five, two-twenty or so, shiny black, probably got a foot long dick, and handsome as hell. Yeah, I can see why you'd not have to worry about him," she said laughing.

"What the hell!" I said. "I thought you were on my side."

"I am, but be realistic. If you're going to fight for your rights to Desiree you have to see things in perspective and deal with them using your strengths" said Sonia. "To do that, you have to know his strengths, and also his limitations; then, use the latter against him."

"So, you got any ideas! Please don't hesitate to share them if you do. I'm dyin' here," I said, still miffed at her complete disregard for my feelings.

"Look Peyton, the fact is guys like him are a dime a dozen. The worst thing that could happen to Desiree would be for her to dump you for him. She already knows he's capable of being in a cheating relationship; he'll cheat on her just as soon as the initial thrill wears off."

"How duh yuh figure," I said.

"Okay, he's got looks all over you. There it stops. He's got nothing else. I know for sure that his business is on a shoestring. He's been looking for partners to share the risk with him. Oh yeah, I know him; hell he's even asked me to back him. He comes in here a lot. Peyton, he's been in here with Des."

The look on my face must have been something to see. "Peyton, she's not let him have her. He just plies her with drinks hoping to get lucky," said Sonia.

"With Des!" I almost yelled.

"Control yourself. You go off half cocked and you lose-got it! Yes, they've been here together. I had to tell you. If you'd found out by accident-"

"Yeah, thanks, Sonia. I mean it, thanks," I repeated.

"Peyton, if she were to dump you for him, I guarantee you he'd be cheating on her within three months. He's a player and takes great pride in being one. Des is a babe in arms when it comes to someone like Mr. America. Your revenge would be watching her fall apart in the aftermath."

I finished my shot of vodka and motioned to Mel for a refill. Mel stood there staring. "Mel?" I said, at his apparent ignoring of me. He was looking toward the door. I turned. My wife was coming in the door on the arm of Mr. America. There was no mirror nearby to tell for sure, but I could feel my face darken.

"Peyton, not now," whispered Sonia. I paid no attention. I really didn't actually hear her anyway. My stomach was doing flip flops. It was clear that they were more than instructor and instructee. My anger took over. I made my way to them with Sonia trying to pull me back. I came up on them just as they seated themselves next to each other in the booth. Desiree was on the inside.

"Megan how you've changed," I said to the man pawing my woman. "You're so black and so tall and so such an asshole."

"What the hell!" he stood up. He was near a foot taller than me and eighty pounds heavier and I never saw it coming.

The light was so bright. What is it about hospitals that they have to have such bright lights, I wondered.

"You okay, honey," said Desiree. I looked to my left and focused on her. "Where's Megan," I said, as sarcastically as I have ever said anything.

"Peyton, you don't need to act like that. It wasn't anything," she said.

"I saw him pawing you. It was clear it wasn't the first time either. Get outta here. I don't want to be accused of smothering you. We're finished you and I," I said. "Go find your loverboy."

"Peyton! He's not my loverboy."

"Fuck off!" I said. I was getting really mad.

She ran out of the room crying. I felt like shit, but I felt good too. I wasn't mister-wimpy for damn sure. I also wasn't mister tough guy. Geezsus that dude could hit. My face felt like a well dribbled basketball.

As soon as Desiree had left a suit showed up. "Mr. Gillis?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I'm inspector Busby. I hear you were attacked."

"Yeah? Why? Is the guy suing me for being an inadequate punching bag?" I said.

"No, but you have a case for assault. Need to know if you wanna press charges?"

I snickered. "You know I oughta. The guy sucker punched me. But no, I just wanna get out of here, divorce my whore of a wife, and get on with living," I said.

"Well, if you change your mind, here's my card," said Inspector Busby.

"Yeah, sure. I'll call yuh," I said. My daddy always told me to fight my own fights; my daddy's advice on any subject was seldom in error. I'd take care of the asshole my way and in my own good time. By the time I was done; he'd be wishin' it was only the law that was after him.

I watched inspector Busby go. At the last moment he turned back unsure of himself. "Mr. Gillis, is it really true that you are the great grandson of Baby Face Nelson?"

I had to laugh. "Yeah, but so far I haven't killed anybody myself," I said. The inspector nodded, smiled, and left.

They kept me overnight for observation. Evidently I'd had a mild concussion.

I was released at 10:00AM the next morning. It was Saturday, at least I didn't have to go in to work. I called a cab. I didn't want to be in the same car as Des, and she probably wouldn't have come anyway, I reasoned.

I walked kinda slow up the steps, opened the front door and went in. I could smell cooking in the kitchen-roast beef-it was our favorite. Being quick on the uptake, I figured she was going to try and mollify me.

"Peyton!" she yelled seeing me as I came into the kitchen. "I was waiting for your call. I thought you'd want me to pick you up," she said.

"I took a cab," I said.

"Why? Peyton-"

"Desiree, we need to talk. I know that, but not now. Your boyfriend got me a good one and I'm not feelin' too good right now. I'm going up to bed. I need to lay down for a while." She followed me up the stairs. I think she was hoping I'd fall so she could have a reason to help me up the stairs and to bed.

I made it on my own and almost fell onto the yellow comforter. She knelt beside the bed and stroked my forehead. "Peyton, I'm sorry. But nothing happened with Jason. Nothing," she said.

"Later," I said, "I'm tired. I mean it." Then, I added, "The roast beef smells good. Maybe tomorrow."

"Okay. Okay, I understand. You do need your rest. I know that. I'll be here if you need me," she said. She raised my head a little and pulled a pillow under it. She kissed me on the lips and left leaving me to my dreams. I was out in minutes.

I awoke at daybreak. I was alone in the bed. She had not slept with me, I realized. Then I saw her. She was asleep in the chair a few feet from me. She must have been there all night. Okay, I got it, she was pulling a full-court press. This was going to be one tough deal anyway I sliced it. I was mad as hell about her indiscretion. I was also madly in love with her. And, I had no idea how I was going to handle those two mutually exclusive realities. I was about to find out it didn't matter either way.

I rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. I showered; I needed it. When I came out she was gone. I went downstairs and heard her in the kitchen.

"Hi, hon," she said. There was something strange in her tone of voice. I felt a sense foreboding. "Are you feeling better?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay. You shoulda seen the other guy," I quipped.

She allowed herself a small smile. She set a plate in front of me. Two hard boiled eggs, a slice of dry toast and a few grapes. Very healthy I thought. She poured us both a cup of coffee. She sat opposite me at the table.

I could see she wanted to tell me something, but she was nervous, maybe even afraid. I didn't like the feeling I was getting. I was chewing on a grape. I put the fork I was holding slowly down on the plate, swallowed, and waited.

"Peyton?"

"What Desiree? Something's wrong isn't it?" I said.

"Peyton, I love him."

Stunned doesn't even begin to describe the badness of what I was feeling. I was having hot and cold flashes at the same time. My throat was suddenly dry.

"I'm going to be with him, Peyton. I'm leaving you. I'm sorry, really, but I need to do this."

She could see the tears beginning to flood my eyes. But, I said nothing. I just sat their mute.

"The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, Peyton. But, I know that if I just cheated on you behind your back, that you'd eventually find out and be heartbroken anyway. And then, Friday night, when he hurt you like that in the bar; well, I knew I had to get him and you apart. But, Peyton, I just can't give him up. I love you too, but it's different with Jason."

I finally found my voice. "Yeah, he's taller."

"Peyton, you know that's never made a difference to me. I-"

"Desiree, before I embarrass myself, I'm going to go out. Please, please be gone when I get back. I'll file for divorce tomorrow. I'll just set it all up fifty-fifty. Grace and Charlie will be with me of course. I will not tolerate another man in their lives. Is that agreeable?"

"The kids with you? No, Peyton. They'll be with me; I'm their mother. I am so sorry for this, Peyton. I seem to be doing everything to hurt you today. I really didn't mean for this to go this way…"

"Okay then we fight it out in court," I said, bitterness beginning to consume me. "I will not tolerate that man being around my children-ever! So get out your big guns Des; you just went to war."

"Peyton! You can't deny me the children. Their mine!"

"Correction, Des, they are ours, but they are not any part of that man's. Get that through your pretty head."

"Okay then, you leave me no choice. I will fight you on this, Peyton!" she said. She stormed out. I knew she'd be heading for my mom and dad's place. The kids were there. I made the call. I told dad to bring them here to the house immediately. I wanted Des headed in the wrong direction. If she was going to play with Mr. Black. I was going to do some playing of my own.

Waiting for the kids, I went online and made some major financial changes. Banks, credit card companies; even my stock broker, Greg Smithers: Wonderful what one can do even on weekends if one knows how to use a computer.

My last move was to call Clay Burns my friend from the job. He was not only a very highly rated attorney; he had power in high places. Well, after all we did do work for the black ops folks didn't we. I called and told him I needed to see him immediately. He said to come right over. I did. Mister Jason Black had no idea of the poop storm about to overtake him, and for that matter neither did Desiree when it came down to it. My job required a security clearance; Desiree knew virtually nothing about what I did or who I knew, and I was about to call in a whole bunch of markers.

"I don't know anymore, Clay. She's not like she was, and I don't think I like the new her. The killer is that it's mostly my fault she's like she is. I'm the one who introduced her to the asshole."

"I know. I remember. You were so proud of her starting up at the gym."

"Yeah, talk about shooting myself in the foot," I said. "So can I get custody?"

"Normally that's a tough one. But the kids are old enough for the judge to listen to what it is that they want. Also, I am sure that if I dig deep enough I can find something on mister body-beautiful that won't be too complimentary. Hold on a second."

He walked over to the phone across the room. He picked it up and dialed. I could see him waiting for someone to pick up on the other end.

"Hi, Rex… yeah… it's me… well not that long… okay yeah… got a job for you… uhhuh… can you come right over I have someone I want you to meet… " After the usual goodbyes, he hung up.

"He's on his way," said Clay.

"And he is?" I said.

"He's a PI, the best. Mister Black has a very dark future," said Clay. "No pun intended."

The meeting with Rex Goodman was 2F: formative and fruitful. Mr. Black would be unknowingly under the microscope. It being an apodeictic given that everyone had things about them that they would not like to have become general knowledge, it only remained to discover what skeletons lurked in Mr. Black's background. We would not meet with Mr. Goodman again until he had something interesting.

It was some three weeks later that the children voiced their upset over their mother's apparent abandonment of them. "Dad, why doesn't momma want to stay with us? Why is she with that other man, dad?" said Charlie.

"Because she loves him now instead of daddy, said Grace. Sheesh, you don't know anything!" said my daughter.

"He's not a good man," said Charlie.

"No duh," said Grace.

I hadn't told them anything, but Desiree had. She had actually had the brass balls to tell our two children that she loved someone else instead of their daddy. She had made some feeble remark-to my mind feeble-that she still had feelings for me, but that she loved someone else too. Not trusting her, I had been in the other room listening. She had, over the past several days, lightened up on her demand to have the children stay with her. It seemed that Mr. Black didn't care to have them around. I wondered how that conversation had gone between them. Evidently, whatever might have been said, it hadn't upset her enough to drive her out of his bed. Well, one sets one's priorities, doesn't one.

It was the Monday, after my talk with the children-or more accurately theirs with me- that I heard from Clay that Rex wanted us to meet. I broke a couple of traffic laws to get there as fast as I could. It had been nigh on a month since Desiree had gone to be with ex-lax.

"Mr. Gillis, may I ask how bad you want this guy?" said Rex. Clay was leaning back smiling like a possum.

"He's taken my wife from me and their mother from my children. Does that give you some clue?" I said.

"Okay then. We, you, can nail him pretty good; actually, very good. There's an warrant out on him for grand larceny in Georgia. He's evidently ripped off the Mr. America pageant for more than thirty thousand dollars. He's a cinch to do a dime for that, and that's not counting the add-on for jumping bail. If your wife wants to hang with the guy; she's going to be limited to visiting days and the occasional conjugal visit," said Rex.

"I'm meeting with my wife tonight," I said, "it's her regular night to visit the children. I am going to lay it on her that she either scraps all of this crap with him or else. The or else is we nail her boyfriend and I go for divorce on the most stringent grounds that I can," I said. I looked over at Clay, and he nodded.

"Are you sure you want to be that straight up, Peyton," said Clay. "If you go the whole route she may never forgive you. So…"

"Her forgive me! I may never forgive her," I said. "I love her, but I am not going to be a cuckold wimp for that asshole or any other man, let alone her. I'll call you tomorrow Clay and give you the yea or nay."

"That's a roger-wilco," he said.

We talked about some of the other things Rex had discovered about Mr. Black. He was an inveterate womanizer. He had started up and rundown a dozen small businesses. He has a little girl by a waitress in a small town in southeastern Georgia, and he owed her a busload of back child support. The woman, an Audrey Mapes, would be more than grateful to know the whereabouts of deadbeat dad number one-at least he was that to her.

Grace had cooked a nice meal for us. She had even set a plate for her mother, though she doubted mom would be there early enough to eat anything. Desiree had developed the habit of coming in after dinner most of her two-a-week visits since she had left. The rift that was developing between her and the children was widening. The rift between she and I was now a gulf that almost couldn't be crossed.

I answered the doorbell. Des trotted in with several packages. Gifts of atonement for the children, I guessed.

"For me," I joked, mirthlessly.

"For the children mister man," she said, not losing her bright demeanor or mood.

"Grace cooked for you," I said. "It's getting a little cold by now, but we could reheat it." I'd made my point and it finally took away a measure of the joviality she'd brought with her.

"I wish I could stay," she said. "But I have a-meeting-I can't get out of."

"Yeah, a meeting," I said, the bitterness I still felt rising to the surface.

"You don't have to be snide, Peyton. I really do have a meeting." I didn't say anything immediately.

"Where are the kids?" she said looking around.

"Upstairs, it's their usual time to hit the hay," I said.

"Well, could you go get them? I have some things for them," she said.

"No, but you can. You know the way I believe," I said.

She gave me her thanks-a-lot-asshole look and proceeded up the stairs to their rooms.

She was upstairs for some minutes before returning to face me.

"You know you could make things a little easier for us, Peyton. I'm trying to be pleasant; it wouldn't kill you to try to be the same," she said.

"Sit down, Desiree. We need to talk."

"I can't stay…"

"Yes, you can. Because if you don't you and your boyfriend are going to be in a world of hurt," I said. She stared at me with brows knitted. Something in my tone seemed to get her attention; she seemed shaken. But, she recovered quickly.

"All right, but just for a minute," she said.

"I'll make this short and sweet. Please don't interrupt me. You can comment, ask questions, or just leave quietly, your choice, when I'm done. Okay?"

She nodded, clearly not liking my tone or the confidence that it was clearly rooted in.

"Des, you have this one chance to dump your boyfriend and resume your duties here as my wife and as the children's mother. I'm not even sure you're worth it anymore, but we did have nineteen years of love and respect until you decided to play games and cheat on me.

"I have your boyfriend by the balls. I will destroy him within twenty-four if you insist on siding with him. Additionally, you will not come out of this unscathed either. Desiree, this is your last chance. I am willing to try, but only this one last time. It's up to you; the ball's in your court. Now you may say or do whatever you might wish. I'm done."

"What are you talking about? Are you threatening me-us?"

"Yes."

"Well, it won't work. Peyton-I need this man. I've told you. Deal with it. You need to get a life and get on without me. I love Jason. He's never hurt you or said anything bad about you-well except for that fight in the bar that night."

"It wasn't a fight; he sucker punched me," I said.

"For the record, why have you backed off?" I said.

"Huh?"

"Why haven't you said anything about wanting the kids to stay with you?"

"Oh, well that. His place is small…"

"He doesn't want them around. I know it and you know I know it.

"Did you know he knocked up a girl in his home town? Did you know he has a daughter that he owes a ton of back child support to?"

"Well, he's having a hard time financially right now…"

"Not too hard to afford taking you out," I said pointedly.

"This is getting us nowhere. I'm leaving," she said. But she hesitated.

"Okay," I said. I had decided not to wait till the next day to give Clay and Rex the high sign. I reached for the phone. She watched me as I dialed.

She saw I was waiting for someone to answer. Her confidence was wavering. "Yes, it's me. Do it. No, not tomorrow, tonight," I said. I hung up.

"Goodbye Des," I said. She picked up her wrap and headed toward the door. Her steps were uncertain.

"Peyton-I hope that-"

"Goodbye, Desiree. You've just thrown away your life," I said. My tone carried no emotion.

"Peyton? What have you done?" she was shaking.

"I told you already. You can go now. Go to your lover; he's gonna need you. Your life here is history," I said. I felt the chill of hate consume me. Hate for him and hate for her cruelty towards me. She picked up on it.

"Goodbye Peyton." She turned and left. The house was quiet. I didn't feel good. I knew that before the night was out; she'd be calling or maybe even trying to come back.

I got the call from Rex an hour and half later. He wanted to know if I wanted to be in on the show. I hesitated, and then decided that I did. But, I would stay in the background.

I arrived fifteen minutes later.

"So?" I said. Rex smiled the smile of the conqueror.

"They're in the bar. You wanna try and get her out of there before the shit hits the fan?" he said.

"Why would I?" I said.

"He's got drugs on him. I don't think she knows it. But, if she's caught with him when he's busted; well, she's probably going down too," said Rex.

"Oh shit!" I said. I headed inside. I saw them sitting at a table near the dance floor. I approached them. I had to try and be civil and it wasn't going to be easy.

"Jason, let me talk to my wife for a moment, please," I said stopping a foot from his chair.

"What?

"Just for a moment. I'll bring her right back and be out of your lives for good," I said.

"Peyton, you have really done it this time…"

"Des, if you have a little bit of feeling left for me, grant me these last few words. We'll just go outside for a few minutes, and then Jason can have you and you him forever," I said. My heart was beating so loud I was sure that they could hear it. I didn't want her to go to prison. I had to get her out of there."

"You'll leave us alone and get on with your own life if I talk to you?" she said.

"Yes."

"And no more nonsense about the children?"

"Yes." The two of them had to be true morons. It was so obvious that I was trying to separate them before something bad happened, but they didn't pick up on it.

"Okay then," she said. She picked up her purse, I hadn't thought of that. She followed me out the entrance. It wasn't any too soon. Just as we cleared the door the cops, six of them, were entering.

"Peyton, who are those men? Do you know anything about this?" She could see they were cops three of them were in uniform.

"They're here to bust your lover. He's got drugs on him. You, being with him, would mean you'd be going down too. I just saved your ungrateful ass," I said.

A minute later a cuffed and clearly distressed Jason Black was led out to a waiting patrol car. Desiree started to try and talk to him, but I held her back and kept her away.

The cops knew he'd had company at the table, but he was the only one they had a warrant for, so they didn't pursue it.

"You can go see him in the slam," I said. "But, probably not until tomorrow."

"Where am I going to go! Peyton. I don't have a key to his place. I only have about twenty dollars; I'm broke. I gave Jason my check this month to help with some of the bills. Where am I going to go?" I looked at her with a knowing look. The asshole was a user and she didn't get it. I figured I already knew the answer to the next question I was going to ask, but I asked it anyway.

"Where's your savings, Des. No money in checking. You've got an ATM card don't you? You used to," I said.

"I closed my account, Peyton. I put my money in Jason's account too so he could have enough money to keep the gym open. He-we've-had problems," she said.

"So, you really mean you're broke don't you," I said. I'd killed our credit cards and I knew she hadn't gotten a new one yet. "You can stay at the house, in the guest room if you want until your next paycheck. Other than that you're on your own."

"With you? In the house?" She looked nervous, undecided. "I guess I have no choice, do I," she said.

"You always a have a choice, Des. It's just you've been making some pretty bad ones lately. Make up your mind. I'm leaving." I turned and headed for my car. I heard her lurching after me in her high heels. I looked back at her. Gawd she was a beautiful woman. Tall and beautiful, and now, very unsure of herself in spite of her most recently found self-confidence.

It was Saturday morning, and the kids awoke to hearing their mother call them down to breakfast. It was not exactly a cheery scene, nor was it all that somber. It was-tentative.

I was still getting ready. I came down to a quiet kitchen. The kids were eating. Desiree was sitting at the table with them sipping coffee. I waited outside the entry way for a moment to see if I could hear anything.

"Mom, do you miss us?" said Charlie. He sounded hopeful.

"Oh yes, my baby, I have missed you a lot," she said.

"Then why did you move out with that bad man, mom," said Grace.

"You wouldn't-oh, I don't know, Grace. I just don't know. Your father and I-well-I just don't know. I wish I did," she said. I entered.

"Any coffee left?" I said. My wife-she was still my wife-got up and poured me a cup.

"Thanks for letting me stay last night, Peyton. I just don't know what I'm going to do," she said.

"You can stay here, Des, like I said until you can get some bucks together. We won't be throwing you out. But no boyfriends, especially that boyfriend, if he even makes bail," I said. I had a feeling that she was going to ask me to make his bail for him. I had no reason to feel so; it was just a-feeling. I decided to short shank any possibility of her asking me to help the bastard. "You may not talk to him on the phone, send him emails, nothing. If you're here you're here; if you're with him, you're gone. Are we clear?"

She nodded. She was clearly conflicted, and I didn't give a good goddamn. I'd save my wife, but her boyfriend wouldn't be allowed to so much as to lick the ass of my dog-if I'd had a dog.

"Want some toast and jam," she said. "I think there's some apricot jam in the frig."

"That would be nice," I said. She got up and put the bread in the toaster and got out the jam and a spoon to spread it with. Her getting out the spoon brought back memories of better times. Why would getting out a spoon be anything special? Well, it wasn't really. It was just that most people spread their jam with a butter knife. But, Des had always done it with a spoon; it was her-our-thing; a little homey family thing.

After breakfast, Des retired to her room. I almost went to her, but just outside the door I stopped. I could hear her crying inside. She was clearly trying to muffle it, but it was still audible. I left her alone and went to take care of the kids.

Two days later, Monday morning, she got a call from the jail. It was him. Grace had picked it up and called her mother to the phone. As she approached, she saw me and hesitated. Her hands dropped to her side. I made a decision.

"If you talk to him, you're gone," I said. She nodded and walked away.

I took the phone. "Mr. Black. Desiree is staying here and she is forbidden to ever speak to you again, or she's gone from here… that's right… I know why you called, or I think I do, and you can forget it. You've taken all of her money and now you want to be bailed out, right?… no… not a chance… and lose this number." I hung up.

My wife looked at me with tears in her eyes. "You really hate us don't you, Peyton?"

"Who's us? He's not your husband I am. Deal with it," I said. Oh, how I had wanted to throw those words back at her, now I had. For some reason I didn't feel good about it. I wondered if she'd felt bad when she'd said it to me that day seemingly so long ago.

"He's a human being, Peyton," she said.

"Do you love him, Des. I mean really. He's exploited you, used you, and eventually he'd have dumped you just like he did his former girlfriend and his daughter. So I ask you again do you actually love this asshole?"

She ran from the room. I was so mad. This woman was totally brainwashed by him. I couldn't believe it. What seemed so obvious to me apparently wasn't to her. I decided it was time to push my luck.

I knocked gently on her door. "Come in," she said.

I sat on the bed beside her. "He's going to prison, Des. You know that right. This is a zero tolerance state."

"I know, I guess," she said. "It's just hard dumping on him when he's in trouble, especially when I know it is partly my fault," she said.

"It wasn't your fault Des. You're a victim here. You just don't know it. The man's a criminal," I said.

She started sobbing big time. I held her. It was the first time in quite a while that I had held her. It felt good. The problem is I wasn't sure why she was sobbing. Was it for me, her family, or for her lover? That was something I needed to get the answer to. The germ of an idea was coming to me. I just wasn't sure if I could get it done. It would cost me, probably, but it would also get me some answers, answers I absolutely had to have. I had the money; I was going to go for it.

I called Clay and made an appointment.

"A test! A fucking test," said Clay.

"Yeah, sorta," I said. "I gotta know, Clay. If she really is in love with that jerk, well-"

"Well what you idiot. That guy is a bad guy. You need to rethink this. Jason Black is a thief and the worst kind of user I have ever seen. And, you want to throw a perfectly good woman at him in order to test her! You're outta your freakin' mind," said Clay.

"Peyton, even if she is in love with the guy, she shouldn't be. You owe it to your kids not to let her get tangled up with the asshole," said Clay.

"I'll be there, Clay, to keep things under control. He'll think he's getting a freebie, but I'll be there. It ain't gonna happen," I said.

"Wait a minute. You ain't thinkin' of carrying are you? No guns, Peyton. I'll turn you in myself," said Clay.

"No, no guns," I said. "I promise you that." Clay seemed to relax. My great granddad's long ago rep always gave people who knew about him pause when it came to seeing me upset or angry.

I had planned everything down to a gnat's eyelash. What could be anticipated had been. Now, I had but to put the ball in play. Desiree's car, unknown to her, had some new accessories: a GPS tracking system, a voice activated recorder, and a microphone capable of picking up clear dialog from fifty feet off, or delivering their words to the techno stuff in Rex's van.

"Yes, I am serious. Bail him out; then, tell him he's history. That way you'll be able to unload this ridiculous guilt trip you've been laying on me and we can get back to living our lives as husband and wife," I said. "Remember, do not give him a ride to anywhere, don't agree to have a final drink with him, and don't even think about fucking him one final time. I will know if you do, and all bets will be off."

"Peyton, I don't know what to say," said Des. "This is far more generous than I could have expected. I love you, Peyton, you're a good man."

"I don't wanna be a good man; I want to be your only man," I said. "So let me be."

She leaped into my arms and kissed me. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she said.

Well, the Rubicon had been crossed. I'd let the horse out of the barn. Let the chips fall where they might. It was all systems go.

In addition to the techno stuff I'd installed in her car. A very tiny, virtually invisible microphone was sewn into the lining of her purse. I was going to get every word she or he or anyone close to them said in the next while.

As soon as her car pulled out and rounded the corner. I walked down the street to the car I'd rented and began to tail her. With the GPS tracker installed I didn't have to follow too closely behind. I knew exactly where she was, and I could even watch her car as it plied its way to the jailhouse.

Knowing where she was going, I jumped ahead of her. I arrived before her by some five minutes. I parked where Rex had informed me that I might in order to get the best possible view of the place where those incarcerated were released.

I sat back and relaxed. I knew it was going to take some time.

It took two hours before I saw them exiting the building. She led the way and seemed headed away from him when he called to her to wait. She stopped some twenty-five feet from him and waited. I could hear them.

"Geezsus, woman," he said. "Can't I even thank you?"

"No. Besides it's my husband you have to thank. He's the one with the cash, not me. You stole all of mine. This is the last time you'll see me. If you try to contact me again, you won't like what comes of it-believe me."

"Not even a goodbye kiss?" he said smiling his most seductive, I thought.

She'd begun walking away, but turned one last time and slowly raised her hand in front of her face and flipped him the bird.

His face darkened. He strode toward her and slapped her-hard. I gunned the engine and screeched to a stop in front of them. I got out and charged the big man. He was surprised. I tackled him and he went down with a thud, me on top of him. He got up dusted himself off and looked at me standing there, a few feet away, ready to fight him.

"Didn't get enough of me last time muthafuka," he said.

They say overconfidence kills. He stood perfectly relaxed and still leering at me. I strode toward him and timed my steps perfectly. I shot a kick forward straight and true right at his knee cap. I heard it crack. He hit the ground like a sack of wet cement. "Have a nice day," I said, as I led my wife away to my car and home. I told her we would get her car later.

"You hurt him bad, I think," said Desiree.

"Yes, I hope so," I said.

"Me too," she said. She was smirking and thinking thoughts I could not at that moment guess.

"Peyton, I wish you hadn't given me the money to bail him out now."

"I didn't give it to him. I gave it to you hoping you'd realize what a slimeball he is. I almost feel like thanking him for making it so obvious," I said.

"Peyton, I've learned my lesson. You really are my man, my only man," she said. It was nice she remembered what I'd said. I was on the verge of giving us a strong possibility of making it.

The problem with guys like Jason Black is that they seldom reform. He jumped bail once again; which cost me. The possibility of him going to prison for grand larceny was high, especially since he no longer had the money that he had stolen. Bad as all of that was; it was going to get worse, worse, that is, for us.

It took the bail bondsman a good two months to bring the bail jumper back. He was tried and convicted on multiple charges. But a liberal judge, with a heart of gold and less sense than god gave rocks, sentenced him to just two years in prison and restitution of all of the money he'd stolen, including the back child support he still owed. The judge reasoned that his victims could not expect repayment if he was in prison; hence, the light sentence. He was out in fourteen months.

Des was doing the dishes when she looked up and saw a man standing in the kitchen doorway. She screamed in surprise; it was Jason Black.

"Hello gorgeous," he said, slowly and not smiling. "Miss me. I missed you. Not much puntang available in the joint."

"Jason! What are you doing here? You can't be here. You've got to go. My husband will be here soon." She was talking a mile a minute. Her surprise had given way to fear and consternation.

"Aw, come on sweet cheeks, give your old boyfriend a little kiss for old time's sake," he said.

"No, Jason, it's over. You have to leave," she said. She was becoming desperate. "They can't find you here."

"Who's they, Des? The police? They won't be looking here. I'm out legally. Got released the day before yesterday," said Jason. "Good behavior. But, today, I'm afraid I am going to be on my worst behavior. I just gotta do something about this penis of mine. It's kinda rusty from lack of use. Uh, you're gonna help me out aren't you." He began to laugh uncontrollably.

He walked toward her, but stopped at the frig door. He opened it. Hmm, Miller, I do like your husband's taste," he said. He pulled out a beer, ripped off the cap and drank long and deep. "Oh yeah, it is definitely Miller time."

"Let's go into the living room, sweet cheeks. We have some lost time to make up for, about fourteen months to be exact," he said. Desiree was backing up and away from him, but her movements were leading her to where he wanted her to be.

She stopped when her legs backed into the couch. She looked down and realized that she was in a completely lost and hopeless situation.

He came to her and ripped her blouse over her head. He gazed at her bra-clad breasts. He smiled.

"The skirt, take it off," he said.

"No!" she screamed. His hand was so quick she never saw it coming. The full force of his blow lifted her off of her feet; she crashed to the floor in a heap.

"Don't tell me no. I'm not in the mood," he said softly. "Now, take off your skirt."

Desiree knew she had no choice. She stripped off her skirt while still sitting on the floor.

"The bra and panties too," he said.

"You gonna rape me, Jason. Not exactly what I envisioned for us in bygone days is it." she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "My husband told me I was a fool, and I was." His look terrified her. She stopped talking.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Jason stripped off his own clothes and stood in front of her, sneering down at her. "You were too good for me last time we talked," he said. "But today you will please me. If you do a real good job, I may let your children live," he said. Her breath caught in her throat as her hand went to her mouth, the horror of her situation beginning to dawn on her. She was naked now and resigned to having him take her. She cried softly as he lowered himself to the floor and knelt before her.

"Turn around and bend over," he said. "I'm going to take you from behind." She obeyed him mechanically, her body shaking from a combination of fear and shame.

She felt him jab a finger then two into her anus. He was going to butt fuck her. She was almost glad. Maybe he wouldn't violate her pussy if he spent himself in her ass. She felt him spit on her crack and spread his spit around and inside of her trying to lubricate her back door.

"This is going to be good," he said. "I hope you enjoy it." She actually had the thought that he meant what he said, but she pushed the thought aside; she was being raped and there was no other word for it.

He began to push and pull. The head of his cock was inside of her. Little by little he continued to go deeper and deeper. Some minutes later he was all the way in and began to screw her. It hurt her and she squealed repeatedly in pain, but nothing was going to stop him. Finally she felt him stiffen and shudder; he came inside of her. He shrank and his cock withdrew from her insides. She collapsed on her side and hugged herself in a fetal position.

"Not bad you fucking whore. Now you're going to suck me off," he said. "Get up on your knees." She slowly obeyed him. But too slowly, he kicked her in the stomach driving her back into the couch. She vomited.

He threw her her skirt and told her to clean herself up with it. "The floor too," he said. She did as he told her.

"Now, get over here and suck my cock, and I better the hell enjoy it." She moved to him and took his cock in her hand. She could smell her own anal aroma on him. She took it into her mouth and began to do him. She decided that she wanted him to cum. She did not want him in her vagina, and if she could dry up his supply of sperm maybe she could at least deny him that. It was her way of fighting back. As a weak woman, it was her only weapon against this powerful male.

He came violently ten minutes later. She swallowed all of his seed. He fell to his knees spent himself. "I'm gonna get dressed," he said, "but you're going to remain naked. Your husband will be here soon if my information is correct, and I want him to have no doubt about what we did. Oh, and yes, I know where your children are too," he said, laughing.

Kelly cringed in fear and self-loathing.

Since Desiree had not been tied to him officially, we were not apprised of Jason Black's release date or we might have taken precautions. This proved to be pivotal.

I got off at 4:00PM as usual. I parked in the garage using the garage door opener to enter, gathered my briefcase, and went into house through the kitchen door. Entering I pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and headed for the living room. I stopped cold. "What the fuck!"

Sitting on the couch was my beautiful wife, naked as the day she was born. She was sniffling. The side of her face was swelling, no doubt from being struck by the man sitting beside her. It was Jason Black. He was holding a gun to her head.

"Yes, yes," said Jason. "I've already fucked her once, that's all that I've had time for so far." My thoughts went to my kids. They were at the school carnival. They'd be home at around six. The neighbors were slated to bring them back. I had to think of something, but thinking was at a premium at that moment.

"Whaddya want, Jason? There isn't any money of consequence here, and it looks like you've already raped my wife. So why don't you get the fuck outta here before the cops arrive." My mouth was cashing checks that my bank was not going to honor. But, cowering in front of the likes of this asshole was not an option. And, I had to get him away from Desiree and within my reach, talk about wishful thinking. I was depending on his arrogance to give me my shot.

The big black rose and strode toward me; he had a noticeable limp, but he moved quickly. I felt no fear, not for myself. But, I was very concerned about Desiree. At least I'd forced him to leave her side. He stopped in front of me. "Remember the last time we saw each other, fuckwad," he said. I looked at him, staring. I know he could smell my hate.

"Yeah, I remember. You tried to take me out again, but I put 'you' down. Why don't you put that gun away and let's see who's got what today," I said.

"To easy, fuckwad. I'm gonna hurt yuh. I'm gonna hurt your whole family," he said, caressing my face with the barrel of his nine-millimeter.

Well, there it was. He was after Desiree and the kids. I had no choice and no margin for error. I had to take him out with my first strike. Of course to do it I had to break rule number one: never argue with a guy who's got a gun.

As he continued to outline my jaw with the barrel of the gun. I deliberately made my eyes dart toward Desiree on the couch twenty feet distant. When I did that, for the briefest of moments he glanced her way too. That was his mistake. I ripped the gun up, down, around, reversing it towards him. It went off. He looked surprised. He face formed a question he never uttered. He melted to the floor trying to talk, but no noise was forthcoming from him. His eyes glazed over and became sightless in death.

Desiree screamed. "Oh my god, Peyton, you've killed him."

"Apparently," I said. I took two steps toward the chair to my right and fell into it. I looked over at my naked wife. Desiree came to me and collapsed into my lap. Her sobbing was out of control. I let her cry. I had no energy to move. I had just killed a man. In self-defense, but I'd killed him all the same. I was sick.

Some minutes later, Desiree began to calm down. "Honey," I said, "get some clothes on. I have to call the police." She looked at me as though not comprehending, but she finally got up. She moved as in slow motion.

"Okay," she said. She went to the couch and retrieved her clothes. I pulled out my cell and dialed 911.

The police were all over the place within minutes. Desiree and I just sat still on the couch answering questions put to us by the detective.

The kids arrived just as the last of the police were leaving the scene. The body of the late bodybuilder was being wheeled out as the neighbors, open mouthed, approached our door.

Needless to say, the events of that afternoon, sans the details of Desiree's rape at the hands of the asshole, were told and retold in the coming weeks. I was at the Rusty Nail a week later and Sonia pulled up a bar stool next to me. "I guess it's my turn to buy," she said.

I smiled. "I never turn down a freebie," I said laughing.

"Hear you're a hero," said Sonia.

"Yeah, a real hero," I said, the sarcasm streaming from my tone.

"You did take down an armed assailant," she said.

"Yeah, I guess. It was either that or get killed myself. He left me no choice," I said.

"Hmm, nevertheless. How's it going with Desiree?"

"Good, finally. We've got it together, and she understands the meaning of family better now than she did. We're working it out. We're okay," I said.

We talked for a little while, and I headed home to the little woman and what promised to be a good evening.

As for Desiree, for weeks she was beside herself. She was finally realizing that she had almost ruined her life and all of ours by trading us in for the glitzy words of a smooth operator. She apologized so often for nearly fucking up all of our lives that I had to actually get angry at her to make her stop. Let the past bury the past, I told her, and she finally did. She's free of her demons now, and I am as certain as it is possible to be that she will never stray again. The future looks good for us.

At some point we met Audrey Mapes, Mr. Black's former girlfriend and common law wife. Black didn't have much, but he evidently did have a house. I had Clay work out a settlement with the Mr. America pageant that left her $100,000 after all of his debts were resolved and paid. She spent half a morning thanking me, and Clay of course, for all of our help. Looking at her and her little girl, I felt good about having done it.

-----------------------------

   Series:Doctors Conroy
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:The divorce was too much for him
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/65426/doctors-conroy
Published:2010-08-22
"So you're going to do it, tell him," he said.

"I have to, Jerry; he deserves that much, and it's little enough; we both know that," she said.

"Hollie, it's going to kill him. More, it's going to kill our relationship with him in all its forms. He will never speak to either of us again-ever," he said.

"You don't give him enough credit, Jerry. He'll understand. If the tables were reversed-" she started.

"You're kiddin' yourself, Hollie. He loves you more than his life, same as I do. Breaking up with him after so many years together-it's going to kill him," he said.

"I have to risk it. I have to. I will be a gentle as I possibly can. I will let him know that both of us love him to death, but that… " she started to tear up. He reached over the table and took her hand in his.

"But that we have been cheating on him for almost a year? Hollie, I doubt you could even imagine a way to be gentle enough in breaking something like that to him. I guess you've got to try, but it's still going to be really bad for him.

"Hollie, are you sure you don't want me to go with you. You need me there, my love. I feel it. I do," he said.

"No Jerry, this is between my husband and me. I have o own up to my sins and be as straight-and gentle-as I possibly can. That's the best I can do. I'm just hoping that in time-well-in time he will understand and we will all be able to get by it. Jesus, Jerry, this is going to be hard," she said.

"Yeah, I know," he said.

I sat across from her and stared. Fourteen years. Fourteen years we'd been married and now it was over. All through medical school, all through residency careers well underway. We'd come up together. Come up together, she and I. We'd made it: she a top gynecologist, me a respected cardio specialist. Thirty-eight years old and now it was over. Helluva thing.

"I'm sorry, Charles. It just happened. Jerry and I-we fell in love. I wish there was something I could say, something I could do… " she said. I just shook my head slowly from side to side.

"Hollie, I can't believe this. You're killin' me, us. I mean my best friend! My ex best friend now I guess. You've thought this over? You've thought this out?" I said. "Fourteen years Hollie! Fourteen fucking years!"

"He's still your best friend, Charlie. He's as sick about this as I am. He wanted to be here with me, but I talked him out of it. It's just something that neither he nor I could help-it-it-just happened," she said. "And yes, I have thought it over; I've agonized over it. I still love you, Charlie; we both do-but…"

"Just not enough. Is that it!" I said.

"Charlie-"

"Forget it Holliie. I guess we're done; we're done. You won't be seein' me again after today, not ever," I said.

Okay I was fucking bitter, bitter as hell.

I got up and walked out; the cafeteria walls were stifling. She didn't follow me or say anymore. There was nothing left to say.

I left the building and just walked. I walked for a long time. In the end I was back to where I had started walking, back at Mercy General. I'd thought it out-sort of-walking was good for thinking, always had been. There were a few things I needed to collect before I left, and I was leaving. I headed for my office. I heard a voice from behind me call my name as I strode down the corridor.

"Doctor Conroy? Doctor Conroy, sir," she said. I turned toward the nurse and just looked at her waiting for her to say something meaningful. "Sir, doctor Jerry, I mean doctor Weston asked me to have you call him, sir," she said. I just turned away and continued toward my office. I had to get out of there, but I needed my papers, my passport. There were a few other things too, stuff tucked away in what had been my inner sanctum for so long, stuff I needed.

Hollie and I-done. I couldn't bring myself to think it, but the reality was there regardless; it was what it was. I packed everything of importance in my gym bag; it was kind of amazing how little there was that could be considered important when one's purpose in life had gone the way of all flesh-non sequiturs had their place I mused.

I changed out of the scrubs, that I was still in, and into my jeans and bomber jacket. Wherever I landed, I would buy what I needed. The major constant was the fact that I couldn't stay around Lincoln anymore. A place where every little thing would remind me of her-of us. I had to get out.

No plans, no trunks of clothes and possessions. She could have it all. She could give it all to Jerry, my used to be best friend. Best friend? Not anymore. Now-my worst enemy. My hatred for good 'ole Jerry would never die; that was gonna be another constant, the eternal constant. I took one last look around. I turned to close the door behind me. As I turned back to head out, I bumped into him.

"Charles, I just wanted to say how… " he started, but my fist in his mouth cut him off.

"Fuck you old bud," I said. He lay on the floor bleeding. Funny, but I didn't feel a bit good about it. I didn't feel bad either. I guess, when it came down to it, I didn't feel anything.

My life, my life was over in medicine, I'd decided. My life at Mercy General, was over. I was outta there for good.

I wondered how it would all play out the next day when I didn't show up for rounds. I'd call Sanders and let him know of course; he'd go nuts. Admin types always went nuts when things didn't go according to plan. I smiled in spite of myself; the scene I imagined playing out in my mind amused me. I was one of the best cardiac physicians in the state. Jerry was a fucking plastic surgeon, useless in any practical sense, I told myself.

Nurse Goodman stood still as a statue her mouth hanging wide open. She looked at the fallen asshole, and then at me. "It's okay Helen; he'll feel a lot better tomorrow whereas I won't," I said. I strode out and into the night.

I had a separate accounts from those of my wife. My ATM card would carry me until I could disappear and start over. I was still married of course, kind of a problem; but I figured, more of one for her than me. She was the one who wanted to be with someone else. I assumed she'd marry him, but to do that she'd have to divorce me. She could fucking well do the payin'.

I drove. Day and night I drove stopping only to piss, or to get gas and coffee. I hadn't slept for almost twenty-four hours. Finally, when I'd almost killed myself, just barely missing a concrete construction barrier, I pulled off the freeway and parked under an overpass; I had no idea where I was. The sun was my alarm clock. I felt stiff and sore all over. I rolled down the car windows. There was just something restorative about morning air. I took a deep breath. I didn't feel quite as bad as I had just a day earlier.

Looking around and assessing my current geography, I could see what looked like a restaurant maybe a quarter mile up the street. I pulled out an up to it. Parking, I got out, locked up, and made my way inside. It was a typical greasy spoon. But I was a hungry, and I needed coffee in the worst way.

A good looking and youngish waitress in a uniform, that I judged to be too small for her, stood looking at me waiting for me to say something.

"Coffee, black and soon," I said, "and dry toast and eggs."

"How do you want the eggs?" she said.

"Just scramble 'em," I said. She meandered her way between the tables and out of sight. I sagged back in the booth. Fuck-fuck-fuck! Now, I was feeling as bad as I was yesterday. I guess the effects of the fresh morning air had worn off.

A busboy passed and I called him over. "Where are we?" I said. "What is this town?"

"Bisbee," said the boy. "Bisbee, Arizona."

"Thanks," I said. Damn near fifteen hundred miles, I reckoned. I'd heard of Bisbee before, knew where it was on the map. Wyatt Earp and all of those guys had hung around here, or so the legends claimed; Tombstone was not too far away as I recalled. Never having been to Arizona I was intrigued. What the hell. It was better than bein' back in Lincoln.

The waitress appeared with my food. "Anyplace to sack out around here?" I said.

"Around the corner there's a motel," she said. "It's cheap enough if it matters." I nodded my thanks. I watched her as she made the rounds of the tables, a good looking wench for sure I determined.

I headed for the Round Up Motel and Bar and Grill.

She dabbed at his mouth with the dampened cloth, "I can't say as I blame him," he said. She nodded.

"Jerry, he hates us," she said, "I know it."

"Yeah, I guess he does," he said, taking the cloth from her hand.

"Doctor Weston, the officers are here, said the nurse. She'd had to push her way through the small crowd of rubbernecking medical staff to deliver her message. The group began to disperse with the arrival of the uniforms.

"Thanks, Helen," he said. "Send them in."

The interview was short. The men in blue didn't look too pleased, but the offense was too trivial for all of the paperwork it would have entailed, so maybe there was an upside to dealing with uncooperative victims.

"I'm glad you didn't press charges, Jerry," she said. "We've done enough to him. I just hope someday he'll get over it and we can all talk about it. You know-"she said, not finishing.

"And be friends? Not hardly. But, you're right about us having done enough to him.

"You still gonna try and see him tomorrow?" he said.

"Yes. He has to come in to get the rest of his stuff, and then there is all of the stuff at the house.

"I know he doesn't want to talk to me, but maybe I can think of something between now and then," she said.

"Hollie, he may not come back for his stuff, at least not soon. You didn't see the look on his face when he left. He wasn't angry exactly. It was something else, something worse," he said.

"What?" she said.

"Despair."

"Jesus! This is just wrong. It shouldn't have had to end this way. I-you-him: it's crazy. Just fucking crazy," she said.

"He loves you. He loves you like I do. There's no gainsaying that fact," he said. She leaned in and laid her head on his chest.

"I've got to make this right with him somehow, Jerry. If not now, then sometime in the future when he's had a chance to get used to the idea. I've just got to," she said.

"Yeah, I know. Me too," he said.

"How's your lips feel?" she said.

He started to laugh but a grimace short shanked that. "Not the best. He really nailed me. I think one of my teeth is loose too. I'll take care of it tomorrow," he said. She nodded.

"Come home with me tonight," he said.

"Okay. I don't want to be alone. So-okay," she said.

"You look good," he said. "Dark hair all fluffed out, dark middie skirt, matching blouse; you do indeed look good. May I ask, do your undies match the rest of the set?" She smiled.

"Maybe you'll just have to see for yourself," she said. He moved toward her and wrapped her in his arms.

"I love you Hollie. Tonight is for us," he said. His hands slid down the length of her arms. Her breasts barely touched his chest teasing him. "As much as I love what you're wearing, I think I'd really rather see you sans your clothes." He began loosening the button holding her skirt up; it slid to the floor.

Sinking to his knees, his face but inches from her mound, he gazed enraptured by the sight and smell of her special places. He kissed her mound and pulled back. He began slowly pulling her panties down. Her mound was bald.

He kissed her places again. He licked her and sucked her clit into his mouth and made her feel good. Her breath came in short staccato bursts. Standing once more, he gently marched her backwards toward the couch; her knees buckled when she came in contact with the cushions. He knelt between her legs and continued his oral ministrations.

Pulling her to her feet he turned her around. He urged her to her knees on the couch's cushions. She spread herself wide for him as she leaned forward resting her head on the back of the couch and waited for him to enter her. Butt towards him, she felt him press inside of her; a low-decibel grunt escaped her as he split her nether lips with his thickness. In and out, in and out-thrust-he buried his entire seven inch length inside of her.

He looked down on the woman submitting to his assault. He gently stroked her still blouse clad back before beginning to screw her.

She moaned and made unintelligible noises as he ploughed her femaleness. He could feel himself building to a climax just as she started the small jerky movements that told him she was experiencing the first of her orgasms. He sped up trying to match her completion with his own. He stiffened and washed her insides with his cum. Finished, he leaned forward over her back and enveloped her in his arms massaging her tits even as his cock shrank out of her.

He rolled off and splayed himself wide open next to her still kneeling form. She, for her part, sank onto the couch and lay her head down on his naked thigh. Turning her head, she licked at his cock and took it in her hands. Rising, she pulled him to his feet and led him by his cock into the bedroom down the hall. The rest of the night would not be restful, indeed, it would be athletic.

Thoughts of her husband were, for the moment, pushed to the back of her mind. They, her thoughts, would return and that with a vengeance, but not tonight, not with her new man in the bed with her. Tonight she was his as he would be in the nights and months and years to come.

I had money. But, I needed a job, any job if I was going to make this little burg my new place of residence; hell, and why not stay here, it really was as good as any other place. I wasn't feeling good, not good at all; but I had things I had to get done even before launching my hunt for a job. First order of business: I only had one change of clothes; I had some shopping to do; then, I'd go job hunting.

The Round Up was clean, and the little attached bar and grill was adequate to my purpose. I figured to be staying for a week or so at the least.

In town I had gotten what I needed, mainly clothes, by noon. Lunch was again at the greasy spoon. I began my job quest before I even got up from the table.

The waitress, her of the too tight uniform, studied me. "Well, we have a job open here if you're desperate," she said. She pointed to the help wanted sign in the window.

"Really," I said.

"Yeah, we need a waiter. Two guys quit last week. College boys. It's always that way. Seasonal kinda, if you know what I mean," she said.

"Yeah, I do." I said. I worked at a pizza place when I was-I hesitated-a kid." I didn't want to let anyone know I'd been to college. I don't know why I wanted to keep that a secret, but it seemed a good idea. I mean a cardiac surgeon waiting tables in a dead end town in Arizona? No, my private life, my history, was gonna be mine to know everyone else's to not know.

"I noticed your car when you drove up yesterday," she said. "An old one, right? It looks almost new though."

"Yeah, it was my dad's. It's a fifty-six Chevy. A collector's item really. Had it for years. I just take care of it, and it just keeps on keepin' on. They don't make 'em like that anymore." I sounded like a teenager braggin' to his girlfriend.

"Yeah I guess. Come on," she said. She led me into the back. She introduced me to the owner of the place. An older man, maybe sixty, balding, rugged looking.

Rob Johnson hired me on the spot: six bucks an hour and tips. Kind of a come down for me economically, but money wasn't my worry. Forgetting was my worry. I wondered if forgetting were even possible. I was betting not.

"Hey," I said to the waitress that had been my headhunter. "What's your name?" She smirked.

"Melissa, Melissa Compton. Yours?" she said.

I hesitated. I decided to use my real name. Too many possible complications otherwise. "Charles. Charles Conroy," I said. She nodded. I had a thought. I had to get a new driver's license; my old one identified me as a doctor. I'd be takin' care of that kind of stuff like fast in a hurry.

I looked at her for the first time as a person, a woman. Twenty-five, tall-maybe five-ten and slim. Short, dark, fluffy hair. Looked like she'd had it tough. I guessed I'd be finding out about that sooner or later if we were going to be working together.

I hadn't lied about working at a pizza place when I was a kid. I'd started as a freshman college student eighteen years before. The name of the place had been La Scala's-the owner had a thing for opera. I'd shoveled pizza for all four years of my undergrad. A year later, my first as a med-student, I met Hollie; we'd clicked and been together ever since. Happy too, until-until now.

Hollie was a looker. Five-nine, slim, short light brown hair in those days; her hair was long now and a little darker than in the old days. We'd fucked like bunnies from our second date. I couldn't get enough of her, and I was sure the feeling was mutual.

We moved in together in our second year in med school and gotten married as soon as we became residents: that, the marriage, was eleven years ago.

Supreme irony of ironies, my long time friend from high school days, Jerry Weston, ended up shadowing me through med school. He decided to go for the bucks and do the plastic surgeon thing; I went into cardiac. Hollie loved children; gynecology was a natural field for her. We were just at the point too, careers stable, where we had even been talking about having children ourselves, when, completely out of the blue, she'd dropped the bomb on me. I guess she decided to be having children with good 'ole Jerry.

At any rate, since beginning med school, the three of us had always been together: Jerry and his flavor of the month girlfriend and Hollie and I. Well, those days were all just memories now, and very bad memories at least for me. Odd how happy times can morph like that; I set my jaw; I'd survive this; I would goddamn it; I would!

She was not nervous exactly, but not comfortable.

"Well, Hollie, I guess you and Weston have cost me my top heart specialist," said Emile Sanders.

"Emile, it's personal. I'd rather not get into it if it's all the same to you," she said.

"I hear that Weston and your husband had a fight right in front of twenty people just down the hall; that makes it my business, Hollie," he said. "I run this place, and I can't be having my medical corps battling it out in front of the paying public!"

"I'm sorry about that. Jerry was trying to talk to him-well-I wasn't there, but I guess things kinda got out of control," she said.

"Yeah, right. Anyway, I've already talked to doctor Weston about it," he said, sagging back in his chair. "Charlie called me too." She started at that, alert for his next words. "He quit over the phone. He's not coming back…"

"Did he say where he was going?" said Hollie. She was literally sitting on the edge of her seat. He noticed.

"If you cared so much about where he'd be going maybe you should have thought a bit longer about having an affair, Hollie. But, to answer your question, he just said far away. He really isn't coming back. Your loss is my loss," he said.

"Fuck!" she said, wringing her hands.

"Yes, that about sums it up," he said. "I called you in here to tell you the same thing I told Jerry Weston: I do not expect to see a drop off in attitude or work load because of this. I hope I'm clear; losing Charlie is bad enough. This hospital is not going to become just another Peyton Place because Weston and you are getting it on."

"There won't be any problem, Emile. I promise you that," she said.

"Yes, well that does it then. Get on back to whatever you were doing," he said. He picked up some papers and shuffled them; the interview was over.

She rose slowly and left. He wasn't coming back; she felt sick.

I only broke one dish on my first day; I wondered if that was some kind of record. I was surprised at how tired I was too. It was 11:00PM. I plopped into a threatening-to-collapse folding chair in the little break room room at the back of the kitchen. I had thought about going to the little country western place across the road, maybe having a beer to celebrate my first day on the new job. I stared at the change of clothes, hanging on the rack on the opposite wall that I'd brought with me so as not to have to go back to the motel, short walk away that it was. But now, I was rethinking going out; I really was awfully tired.

"Hey, mister," said Melissa. "You up for a beer? I'm buyin'." I looked up at her and made up my mind.

"Sure, I guess," I said. "Question. Aren't you tired? I'm feelin' damn near dead."

"You get used to it. I've discovered over the years that a cold one takes the edge off," she laughed.

"Okay, then, let me do a quick change and we'll go," I said. She nodded. I grabbed my stuff, stepped into the adjacent bathroom, and changed.

The Muddy Boot wasn't as small as I at first thought: long bar, large dance floor, a caged bandstand, and maybe thirty tables. One thing for sure, I wasn't underdressed. The place was peopled mostly by real cowboys, a lot of them-even this late at night. The uniform of the night was dirty patched jeans and really dirty Stetsons or John Deer caps. My damn near new levis, and my well ironed button-down typed me as the original drugstore cowboy. At least my Cornhusker rooters cap wasn't out of place. That even surrounded, as I certainly was, by half a hundred Longhorn supporters, or so it seemed. I was treated well; it was still big twelve ball after all.

Mel, as I had taken to calling her, was hit on some. She shined the boys on, politely, but firmly. She wanted to talk.

"So tell me about it," she said. "You sure ain't no cow puncher." I smiled. I looked out on the dance floor wishing I was there rather than being interrogated. But, then, it was going to happen at some point anyway, the inerrogation.

"No, I'm a city boy. Worked lots of different things over the years, I mean apart from my experience at the pizza place," I said. "Just tryin' to get by since my dad died."

"You seem different somehow, I mean than other people I've seen around here," she said. I shrugged. "I know you're not from here, but there is something else.

"Never been married?" she said. I should have expected the question, but I hadn't. My face, I knew, gave me away. I knew that because of the look on hers. I recovered well, I thought.

"Yeah, but it ended badly-best friend and all of that," I said. She looked down and nodded.

"Me too," she said. "We weren't married, but we were going to be until I caught him with Rhonda Wilkes. We were toast after that." She looked around; she spotted something. "That's him over there with the redhead. She's Rhonda." I wondered at her.

"You don't mind being here with him across the room?" I said.

"Not anymore. Couldn't stand either one of them for the longest time, but I got over it," she said. "We don't talk and pal around or anything anymore, but I can stand to be around him, as you phrase it."

We talked long; it was 1:00AM before we pulled up stakes and headed back: she to her car at the restaurant, me to my short walk to the motel. We hadn't danced; that would happen another time, but we had talked.

Time will pass as it always has, and life continues to go on, likewise as it always does. I got into the swing of things locally, and was actually beginning to heal emotionally.

I had been able to find a suitable and very inexpensive apartment not far from the restaurant in my second week on the job. I'd actually vetted he place pretty good before deciding; I did not want to give myself away by living above my apparent means. I didn't, give myself away that is.

I still thought about Hollie almost all of the time. But, as time passed, the pain grew less. My anger dissipated. And, my mind began to turn to getting on with my life. I did one thing that did not square with my new persona. Quietly, I had gotten myself licensed to practice medicine in Arizona. I knew that Hollie and my ex-best friend could find me once I was licensed, but I was betting that they wouldn't bother. It had been almost a year since the scene at Mercy General. Anyway, I was probably divorced and they were probably together and married. The thought made me sad, very sad.

Melissa and I got on well. By getting on well I mean we dated and eventually spent many nights together in each other's arms. Were we in love? No, I didn't think so, but we needed each other; we were good for each other.

There is just something therapeutic about a woman's body melding into one's own as tongues and hands explore each the other. Melissa tasted good, and she made no demands other than to be satisfied when I penetrated her. On those occasions I went to what I considered extreme lengths to prove my capacity to satisfy. She too, always took time to assure me of my more than adequate skills in that regard. We were-happy.

It was midway in our second year that I was forced out of the closet. I suppose I was in the closet, at least in so far as my being a medical professional. I'd gotten my license and had more recently decided to practice surreptitiously somewhere maybe once a month.

I couldn't practice my specialty of course, too many rules for someone who was getting no time in the operating room. But, I could, in an emergency, do general practitioner stuff okay.

I ended up doing volunteer work once a month on a Yaqui Indian reservation. I figured my identity would not be compromised by that.

Some might wonder why I didn't just go back to doctoring full time and forget the masquerade. The truth is I wasn't sure why. I just knew that my old career had no allure for me anymore, maybe because of the memories it conjured about me and Hollie and our old life. I just knew I had to do things the simple way, a different way. Still, I wasn't stupid; ergo, my decision to work with the indians.

The Muddy Boot was nothing if it was not wild, boisterous-and-sometimes dangerous. We'd been hurrahing the band and the dancers and having a gay old time right along with the rest of crowd. I happened to look at the large clock on the back wall. It was 10:17PM when my world was literally turned upside down.

The lead singer, and piano man, had been goin' nuts up on the stage when a cowboy angry at something going on at his table, threw a saucer as hard as he could at somebody across from him. The guy ducked. The saucer sliced Frisbee-like through the air seeming to gain speed with distance. It knifed dead center into the singer's throat. It dropped him where he stood. He lay writhing on the floor.

I knew right then that his larynx had been crushed. I had no choice. I flew at the stage unsheathing a knife from the side of a half drunk patron. I knelt at the side of the fallen entertainer. I looked around. Saw what I needed and screamed at the girl a few feet away to give them to me.

I had no time for the niceties of sterilization. I performed the tracheotomy on the spot inserting the straws in the aperture wrought by the patron's knife. Four minutes later the EMT guys arrived, immobilized the man, and carted him off on their gurney.

The whole incident consumed but five minutes including the time it took the EMT guys to arrive. The guy would live, I knew, but at the expense of my subterfuge. Any hope I had of remaining in the background was lost. Lost because of a slim fortyish man slipping out the door immediately behind the ambulance crew. The local news rag would be putting out an extra in less than a dozen hours-complete with pictures. I was toast. Melissa was the first to confront me.

"Well!" she said. I felt like a little boy about to get a serious spanking.

"Yeah, okay, so there was more to my story, my job history than I let on. I had my reasons," I said. She seemed to deflate. She shook her head slowly.

"Charlie-I just don't know about you," she said. "Well, anyway, at least Slim will have a chance to raise that new baby his wife is carrying around in her belly.

"Were you a nurse or something-in the army maybe?" she said. I looked down.

"No," I said, "a doctor."

"What! And you're working here, I mean at the restaurant?" she said.

"I like working here," I said. I did too. "Like I said, Mel, I have my reasons."

"Your ex?" she said.

"Yeah. You could say that," I said. She nodded.

I stood there watching the two of them wondering how I could have been so stupid. Clearly trading in Charlie for Dr. Jerry Weston was not the best idea I'd ever had: a good man for a player, and Jerry was a player. Thing is I knew it before ever I broke with my Charlie. Jerry had always been a player. But, I thought I could change him; I had deluded myself.

Hard for me to be critical of Jerry though. The hypocrisy of such was more than clear to me. I'd cheated on Charles with Jerry, so what gave the right to complain about Jerry cheating on me. Answer: I had no such right.

I cleared my throat, noisily. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important, but I need to get my clothes packed so I can get out and get the divorce underway," I said.

"Hollie! What-wha… " stuttered Jerry. I smiled. I was proud of myself for the control I was displaying. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, Jerry, I live here for one, and I came home early to get a change of clothes because I am doing a double tonight. But, don't let me interrupt you and nurse Helen. Please continue," I said.

They were already scrambling to get their clothes together. Nurse Helen was mumbling her apologies: I could get her fired, and she knew it. I wouldn't bother though; Jerry was the main cog in this little vignette, I was sure. Nurse Helen was just following orders, as one might be tempted to say. I pulled a couple of suitcases down and started dumping things into them as the need struck me.

Jerry for his part was babbling; he was really out of control emotionally. I got the feeling that he really didn't want me to go-I mean really didn't want me to.

"Hollie, it was nothing. I-we-just fell into it… " he started. "Please don't leave. We can get by this. Just let me explain, I beg you," he said. I stopped what I was doing and stared at him.

"Jerry, the truth is I don't blame you; I blame me. I knew you were a cheater when I married you. I was one too; I cheated on a good man, and I will forever hate myself for doing that. But, you, in your case; well, it's who you are; you can't help it. Goodbye, Jerry," I said.

Well, there it was. My life was shit and it was my own fault. Jerry was as responsible as I was, logically even more so; but in the end it was my decision to screw over my husband, Charlie, not Jerry's. Now, I was being made to pay the price. The degree to which this was brought home to me is the salient fact that I did not even make the effort to find myself a temporary place to stay before visiting Mark Holcomb, my lawyer. Sitting across from him now, I couldn't even bring myself to cry. Truly, I wasn't even actually sad; I was-exasperated-with myself.

"Are you sure about this Hollie? I mean… " he said.

"Yes, Mark, I'm sure. Jerry is just not capable of being faithful. I was certain he was; I was wrong. I need faithful, Mark; I really need faithful, hypocrite though that makes me," I said. I started to cry. He nodded.

"Okay, he said. I'll have him served. It'll take a couple of days. Anna will have some forms for you to sign before you leave," he said nodding toward the outer office where his secretary was even then getting the paperwork together.

"Thank you, Mark, for all of your help," I said.

Now, I had to find a place to stay. I could sack out at the hospital if I had to, but I didn't want to have to. I thought back two years to when Charlie had had to do the same thing. I wondered where he'd stayed. Where had he sacked out? Where was he now? Well, I guess it didn't really matter, it was what it was. Now, I cried. Talk about someone fucking up her life; I had to be the poster child for that one.

Melissa and I developed a new kind of relationship-hers the part of the amateur psychologist to bring me back into the world of the goal oriented. My part the willing client taking very seriously the things she told me to think and do.

At the moment, she was naked and kneeling on the floor in front of me stroking my cock. For my part, also naked, I kept up a series of little jerky movements as she tortured me. I'd had enough. Leaning forward, I grabbed her by the arms and pulled her down on the floor beneath me. Insinuating My knee between her legs, I forced her to spread wide for me. She laughed at my obvious desperation.

"Fuck me good, Charlie," she said, "I need it."

I stroked in and out of her as she surrendered and made little cooing sounds indicating the pleasure she was getting from my attentions. Melissa was more than a good fuck; she was an exciting one.

Well, I thought, Hollie had left Charlie for me, and now she'd left me because of me. It seems like I'm in the middle of all of the romantic drama around here these days. Talk about irony. That I'm a humungous asshole, I would not dispute. I deserved it, for her to leave me, and I knew it. Jesus, I wish I could have that latest mistake of mine back. I didn't blame nurse Helen; it was all me, all me for sure. There was one thing I could do though. I headed for the records office; they had resources.

It took a day and a half but he'd gotten it for me. "Really, you're kidding me!" I said. "He's practicing in Arizona?"

"Well, I don't know about that, but he's licensed in Arizona; that, I do know," he said.

"Thanks a million, Frank, I owe you one," I said.

I sat back and mulled the situation; the new situation. Where in Arizona was he practicing medicine? Records didn't have that particular piece of gossip. He's a cardio specialist though; it oughta be easy enough to find him, I thought. As it turned out, I was being naïve.

The ride down to Phoenix took me three days. He had to be in Phoenix, I thought, he was a cardio guy; the big city equaled the big bucks; he had to be there.

"No, Dr. Weston; he doesn't work here. I know all of the cardiac specialists in the city," said the man in scrubs. "Hell, I know most of the heart guys in the whole state."

"Thank you, Dr. Milford. I appreciate your checking for me," I said.

The surgeon looked at his visitor. "I just had a thought. You know there was something in the papers about a week or so ago. Any reason your guy might be working at some out of the way place," said Dr. Milford. The man's eyes narrowed as though he'd just figured a reason for the high pressure enquiry.

"Maybe," said Dr. Weston. "He's not committed any crimes; don't think that, but there were, well, marital problems, a divorce, another man; well, you know." Dr. Milford nodded.

"What about this newspaper thing, this article you mentioned?" said Jerry.

"It was out in Bisbee. Maybe a couple of hundred miles from here. Lot a history there, and not much else. Anyway, seems some guy did a tracheotomy in some bar or other," said Dr. Milford. "The paper's said it was a professional job. But the really odd thing was that the guy, the one that did the trach, is a waiter at a small café there."

The internet is wonderful. Not only did it archive almost every newspaper in the country; it also archived every issue of every newspaper.

The article named the singer's savior: one Charles Conroy, a waiter At the Langtry Café in downtown Bisbee. The accompanying picture did not do the man justice, thought Jerry. A waiter? Charlie really was hurt by Hollie when she dumped him. Had to be trying to forget. A waiter for chryssakes!

The place was not quite a dump, but almost. Scratched and chipped tables, faded desert orange paint on the walls. It did have one good looking waitress; name tag said Melissa. She'd smiled brightly serving him coffee. The target didn't come on until three. I looked up at the clock. Another twenty minutes.

The broad brimmed cowboy hat I'd brought that morning hid my face from anyone I didn't want to see it until I was ready. I noticed him wiping his hands and talking to the waitress as he came on duty. She handed him something, slipped off her apron and disappeared into the back area. Charlie picked up the full coffee pot and toured the tables; mine was last in line. I looked up; our eyes met.

"Whaddya doin' here, Jerry," he said. He didn't looked shocked, but he also didn't look happy.

"Lookin' for you," I said.

"Well, I don't wanna be found," he said. "Not by you, not ever by you; so pack up and roll," said Charlie.

"She dumped me, Charlie. She caught me with nurse Helen. We're toast," I said. His snickers were expected.

"How fucking funny," said Charlie.

"Yeah, maybe. Charlie, she never got over you. She made a mistake because of me, and I know for a fact that she'd like to have that one back," I said. He looked at me long and walked off.

I'd delivered my message. Well, I had to one of the principals at least. I couldn't tell by his reaction whether I'd done a good thing or just made things worse. Well, regardless, there was one final act to play out that maybe would finally gain me a measure of redemption. I did what he said: I packed up and headed out. I figured the next stranger to have a seat at the Langtry Café would get a bit better reception than I'd had.

I was pouring a final cup of coffee into the cup of officer Reevis. Been doin' the same thing the same time of night ever since I'd been working at the Langtry.

How's it goin' Charlie?" he said.

"Good, I guess," I said. "How about you, Reeve?"

"Good also. Marie and I got back together. She's about decided that the asshole she traded me in for, Parker Williams, was-well-an asshole," he said, and laughed. I laughed too.

"You say she's about decided? She's still not sure?" I laughed.

"Well, she's pretty sure. I think the black eye he gave her for dancin' too close to Clement Adkins kinda helped decide for her," he said.

"A black eye? Is good 'ole Parker in jail?" I said.

"Yeah, but he'll be out in the mornin'; his dad's got the bucks," said Reevis. I shook my head; I had come to love this little end of the line town. I turned to go back to the kitchen and refill the pot and get a couple of orders that figured to be about ready.

Turning, I almost knocked her down. I did knock her back a step. Neither of us said a word at first; we just stared. She looked tired and she looked wonderful. I didn't smile; she did, but it was a weak attempt.

"Jerry?" I said.

"Yes, he told me. And, he told me he talked to you," said Hollie.

"You look good, Hollie. But, you always do," I said. I left her standing there and headed back to the kitchen where I had been going in the first place. I saw from the reflection in the mirror behind the counter that she had taken a seat in one of the booths.

I put the pot back under the urn and watched it fill with the black elixir. I leaned back against the wall. I was tired and I had to think. Melissa, job, Hollie, career, betrayal, crushed ego, pressures, decisions: what did she want, and how would I react to whatever it was that she did want? Hell if I knew; I mean really, hell if I knew.

It was midnight, my shift was over. I could go back in and talk to her. Or, I could go out the back and head for my place.

"Whaddya want, Hollie. You traded me in for someone you loved more. Here to tell me how wonderful it is now you're rid of me?" I said.

"Charlie, you know damn well Jerry and I are quits. I know he told you when he came down here," she said.

"And, why would you imagine that I'd believe anything that asshole said to me," I said. "Or you either if it comes to that?"

"You that bitter, Charlie? Did I do that to you? My God, I am so sorry. I can't tell you how awful I feel about what I've done to you, Charlie. But, Charlie, this," she spread her hands out to indicate the poverty of my current digs.

"You're one of the best heart guys in the country, Charles Conroy. Kick my stinking ass out of here if you have to, Charlie, but get real, and get back to saving lives like you were meant to do," she said.

I stared at her and tried to think of something to say. I finally figured it out. To begin with, Hollie, this place and the people in it, I mean people I work with and the customers that come here, are real. I love this town; I love the people; I even love the job, hard as that may be for you to believe.

"As for my career choice, well, I do do a little doctoring, not as much as I used to, but it's important work, and I do it gratis. I'm not interested in the role anymore, Hollie, not since I lost my-how shall I say it-my incentive. You know, my wife, my best friend, my self-respect, and oh I don't know, oh yeah-my life. I just want to be as far away from the bad memories as I can get. But that begs the question, Hollie, why are you here? Really? Surely not just to get me to go back to hospital work," I said.

She looked down. I think she was about to cry, but she gathered herself. "To get you back, Charlie. I blew it last time. I was crazy. I needed you then, and I didn't realize it. I didn't need Jerry; I wanted his cock; I wanted the excitement he brought to the table. He was good at sex, Charlie, very good; and he was a good guy. Yes, I said a good guy, and he was, at least for the most part.

"He wanted me, Charlie, but he never really loved me, never really needed me; only you ever did those. I just didn't see it then; I do now. So, to answer your question, I'm here to beg you to come back to me, to be my husband; to be my loving, caring, supportive husband," she said, "like I wasn't for you."

"Me back?" I said. "Me back? You're kiddin' right?"

"I-I-didn't expect you'd agree right off, Charlie; but you asked me why I was here. I am asking that you think about it; you know, kinda consider the possibility," she said. I slowly nodded; I don't know why I nodded, but I did.

"Yeah, I'll think about it, Hollie, but the answer is probably gonna be no. You killed me-us-when you told me you loved him more than you did me. You have no idea," I said. She started to cry. I just slowly shook my head.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I knew I'd hurt you, but I had no idea how much. I really will never be able to forgive myself. I will be gone by morning," she said. And, she was, and that left me alone again to think and make decisions.

Never make decisions while under the influence of alcohol. I know what I'm talking about.

Hollie'd been gone a week by the time I came out of the waking alcoholic coma I'd been in since she'd left. Truth told, I still loved the woman; I loved her more than my life. I guess I always knew that at some point I'd have to face up to that little reality. I had.

I'm not sure whether I was feeling good-happy-about going back or some something else: determined maybe. What I did know for sure was that my mind hadn't been on my driving.

So here I lay. My life in tact, my physical being not so much. I was lucky, so they told me. Of course their idea of lucky didn't exactly square with my idea of the same. Oh yeah, I forgot, the "they" were the doctors and nursing corps that put me together after the accident.

They say I'd hit the traffic divider at better than the allowable speed limit. Add to that little fact the truth that I wasn't wearing my seatbelt at the time, and well, you get the picture. Actually, one of the nurses had later quipped, that I must have been depending on the windshield to stop me from being catapulted too far up the road; if so, I had been right to do so. The windshield had stopped my forward progress quite successfully. What it had also done was tear my face the hell up pretty damn finally.

At any rate, I now had more pins in me than a wedding dress in the making. Similarly my entire head, read face, was tightly wrapped in gauze to prevent infection, and I surmised, to keep me from being shocked by the sight of my countenance.

I wanted to cry. I couldn't, I was too drugged up, but I wanted to.

"Doctor Conroy, you have visitors," said nurse June.

"God, Charlie, what have you done!" said Hollie. I knew it was Hollie from her voice of course, and because I still could see a littlethrough the narrow slits in the bandaging enshrouding my face.

My voice was raspy, I knew, but I tried to answer her. "Just in a hurry to get to you," I said. I'm not sure she picked up on the irony in my words.

"Oh my God, Charlie, I am so sorry. If any couple has ever been star crossed, Charlie, it's us. We're due a break, Charlie, you and I. Oh boy are we ever due," she said.

I didn't say the obvious: that none of this would be happening if she and my best friend hadn't decided to fuck me over. But, hell, that was water under the bridge, right. I'd decided to forgive and forget and get back together with her, hadn't I?

And yes, the thought had occurred to me: would she still want the new, and no doubt significantly less beautiful me that I was certain to be after all of the reconstructive I was about to undergo. I hadn't been enough for her once. Would I be enough for her now? Well, we'd see about that wouldn't we.

She stayed with me that day, the whole day. She'd taken a room at one of the local bed and breakfasts at the edge of town. It was clearly her intention to take an active part in my rebuilding. What I didn't know then was just how big a part.

Two weeks later a doctor wearing a surgical mask arrived to remove the bandages from my head. I had never been so scared in my life. I was a doctor; I knew exactly what I was in for.

"Careful, doc," I said. "I'm real sensitive about my good looks." I was trying to add a little levity to the moment. I could see by the doctor's eyes that he was not amused, but he said nothing as he began the delicate task of unwinding me. Now, I was worried. Why didn't the man say anything!

It took some minutes for the doctor to complete the task. He stood back a half step. His first words stopped me cold. "I can do it," he said.

"Jerry!" I said all too loudly.

"The very same," he said, pulling his mask down and smiling at me.

"What-?" I started.

"I'm the best, Charlie, so just sit back and let it flow, okay?" he said. He was the best. I wasn't sure how I felt about that: him working on me. But this one was a no brainer, if he said he could do it; then, it was dead-mortal-sure that he could ironic as hell though it was. He ruins my life with his philandering and now he was about to be putting my face back together essentially so that my wife-my ex-wife-and I could get back together. Yeah, ironic as hell for sure.

A movement at the doorway broke into the confusion of thought gripping me. "Hi Charlie-Jerry-" said Hollie.

"I called him to come down," said Hollie. I just stared at her.

"Do you know how eerie, weird, this is," I said. She seemed to deflate a little.

"Yes, but then again, not," she said. "Maybe this is a way for us to get back to the way it should have been all along, Charlie. The three of us together like before-everything."

My turn to take a deep breath. "Yeah, maybe," I said. The two of them smiled. I think my eyes gave me away.

"We are not staying together, Charlie," she said glancing at Jerry. I'm at a local bed and breakfast. Jerry's here at the hospital until we take you back home," she said. I nodded.

We did indeed finally go back to Lincoln. My face and body parts were once again more or less like before. As for the good doctor Weston's efforts-twenty-four separate operations-they were quite successful. I'd had to reevaluate the usefulness of plastic surgeons.

Hollie and I lived together for the year it took to get me back to what passed for normal. We were sitting together at one of our favorite restaurants. Dessert having been rejected in favor of two glasses of the best house wines.

Hollie rose and came around to me. Dropping to one knee, she looked up into my eyes. "Will you marry me-again-my man," she said. I looked down at her, and a small tear ran down my cheek. I leaned toward her and wrapped her in my arms.

The remarriage was accomplished a week later. We were on our way to the happily ever after I that we'd once taken for granted. No more of that now. As Coleridge wrote: "A sadder but a wiser man I, we, rose the morrow morn."

In one of the most surprising outcomes, that I had personally ever heard tell of, the good doctor Jerry Weston returned to Bisbee. Why? It seems there was a certain waitress in residence there that he had become more than a little interested in. Yeah, Melissa's days as a waitress soon came to an end. I know that for a fact because I was best man at their wedding.

-----------------------------

   Series:Doublecrossed
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A very patient husband is challenged like nobody ever was!
 Category:Loving Wives
Published:2024-03-05
"Are you sure you're okay with this, Mickey," said Rona. She was watching my eyes very carefully. "I mean if…"

"I think so," I said. "But, I'm still concerned about it affecting our marriage."

"Baby, that is the one thing that you do not have to worry about at all. If anything it will add sugar and spice to it, not the other way 'round," she said.

For the record, I'm Mickey Iverson. I work for Stanley Construction. I'm a site foreman. The work is hard some days, but the pay is very good. My wife is a tech at a local clinic. She's the lab person that messes with your blood. Good job she has too. Between the two of us we do right well economically.

Rona and I have been married for nineteen years. I'm forty-five to her forty-one. No kids, she had an accident in high school and pretty much wiped out her female plumbing. But, we have a mess of nieces and nephews, and we fawn on them.

Our love life up till the telling of this story had been great. Well, that's my opinion; others might beg to disagree based on the evidence now available.

My wife had laid it on me the week before last that she was concerned about the deterioration of our sex life. She was right of course things had gotten stale. And, bearing in mind how hot to trot we both had been early on in the marriage; well, one had to wonder. At any rate, after some time thinking it all over she approached me.

We'd considered a number of alternatives to fix our flagging libidos, but had come up nil. But then, apparently out of the blue, she'd brought back up a fantasy of mine: watching her get it from another man-surreptitiously.

"I don't think so, babe, too risky. Something like that could mess up our marriage bad," I said.

"Mickey, I'm nervous too. Neither of us has ever been in a situation like this, and maybe it won't work out; but we should try it at least once; dontcha think," she said.

I didn't like it, but we decided to sleep on it and talk again.

It was true that watching another man do her had long been a fantasy of mine, kind of a common one I knew; but I had never been keen on actually living it out. For the very good reason that the very thought of it, let alone the reality of it, was frightening.

At any rate, we'd discussed it, chewed on it, digested it, and finally-at her very pushy urging-decided to give it a go. There had been just two stipulations. One, if either of us felt uncomfortable with the situation that it, the fantasy, would suffer a quick and unmourned demise. And two, that it, again the fantasy, would not be allowed in any way shape or form to impact our own love making except in positive ways.

Howard Tyler would be here in twenty minutes. Tonight was the night.

"How are you feeling, honey," she said.

"Okay. Nervous as hell, but okay," I said. She nodded, gave me a peck on the cheek, and pushed me into the closet, locking it from the outside. The lock was to keep Howie baby out not me in. I could easily get out by breaking the mirror.

My cloister was our walk-in closet. We had installed a mirror in the door that was also one-way see through glass. I would be privy to everything that went on in the room but invisible to those on the other side.

From inside my hideout I watched her finish dressing. Black mini dress, fluffed out dark hair, ruby lips and nails, eye work that was simply dazzling, and her smell-enslaving. Oh, and no underwear. Howard was sure to appreciate her efforts.

I heard the doorbell ring and watched as Rona headed out to answer it. I settled in. I knew that she would probably entertain him a little out front before she brought him in to the bedroom for the main event. I was wrong, she entertained him for an hour; I was not happy at the delay.

Finally they came in and Rona came to the mirror on the door and pretended to adjust herself. She mouthed me a kiss and smiled.

As she turned back to him, he took her in his arms and kissed her softly, almost elegantly. She returned his kiss.

He pulled back from her. "This time will be better, baby," he said. "We'll have more time." I started at that. What did he mean, "this time"? She planted a kiss on him smothering any further words on his part.

His hands began to caress her neglecting no part of her. I watched as he slid the zipper at her back floorward; he peeled the little mini from her shoulders and smiled at her nakedness. Only her high heels remained; she left them on.

"He felt her buttocks and slipped his fingers into her crack obviously feeling the softness and heat of her anus. At this particular intrusion, she looked a trifle concerned. But, his kisses that smothered any demur on her part.

Dropping to her knees, she unbuckled his pants and pulled them down. More or less surprisingly, he was wearing no underwear either. His cock sprung free, hard, and eight inches long; she rescued it and began stroking it slowly. She looked up at him, smiled, and took it into her mouth. I was witness to her swallowing his cum. This bothered me, as she had never allowed me that privilege; we'd talk. Oh yeah, we were going to have plenty to talk about already and they had hardly started!

Over the next two hours he took her two times and got an equal number of blow jobs for his trouble. The grand finale almost caused me to burst through the mirror of my closet prison. She took him in her butt. She had strenuously forbidden that to me both while we were going together and since our marriage a period of twenty-one years. I was seething, but I held myself under control-and it was more than a miracle that I was able to.

To her credit she did send a worried look in my direction as he took her that final time. She had to know that I was not happy.

Clearly this was something long planned, and that with me totally out of the loop. At that moment, I was weighing my choices: accept what she'd done, divorce her, kill them both. All three options were on the table.

A half hour after her butt screwing, she was ushering him out of the house and into the night. She returned two minutes later letting me out.

"I know what you're going to say, dear," she said. "We didn't plan it; it just happened." I paced back and forth trying to get my bearings. I was almost apoplectic. She took me in her arms and I was so horny that I decided to fight my battles at a later time. I needed release.

Sloppy seconds or not, I was going to fuck her. She was still naked and I was too seconds later.

I took her missionary style, she seemed a little listless, but I laid that off to all of the calorie burning earlier that evening. I repeatedly and ruthlessly rammed my very turgid six inches into her very soppy cunt without concern for her pleasure; I figured she'd gotten hers already. I came in a gusher, well, you can imagine.

I asked her to suck me off. She smiled and took me in her mouth, but as I was about to cum, she stopped and told me to take her doggey style. I stared at her.

"You swallowed him!" I said. I was still pissed about her taking him in her butt, and about his remark about this time being better than-something; and of course her swallowing his cum and never having swallowed mine.

"Okay, if it means that much to you," she said.

"What!" I said. "What did you say? He gets-and I get-" I rolled off the bed and picked up my clothes and started to dress. "Don't let me bother you, dear wife."

"Honey, what's the matter? I'm not denying you anything, really. Stop that dressing and come here. Come on, please," she said.

"Tell me, Rona, what did he mean when he said that, "This time would be a lot better," I said. She paled. I knew then, right then, for sure. This was not the first time. She'd been doing him, but for how long.

"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about," she lied. "Just come here and let me make it right by you, okay?"

I continued to dress, but more slowly. I kept my eyes on her. I knew she was feeling the heat, and my talking would just make it easier for her to dodge the bullet. Still all things considered, her next words stopped me in my tracks.

"We've been doing it for the last couple of months," she said. "Last week, he and I talked. I told him I couldn't continue to cheat on you anymore. He suggested-well-what we did here tonight."

"He knew I was in there then didn't he?" I said. She looked down. Fucking-A, talk about being humiliated.

"No alimony and you keep your hands off of my retirement. You can have everything else including the house," I said. Her head snapped up.

"What! You can't mean! I mean this was your fantasy. You wanted this as badly as I ever did," she said.

"Do you remember our deal, Rona? No neglecting our own sex life, do you remember that, Rona?" I said.

"I'm not neglecting you. I'm not," she said.

"You already have. You sucked him off and you wouldn't me," I said.

"I will suck you off. I wasn't turning you down. I just wanted you to take me doggey style first," she said.

"Tell me, Rona, were you going to let me have your butt tonight? Or were you going to be too exhausted?"

"Oh, and I almost forgot. Where in any of your plans was anything said about you fucking him for two months behind my back!" I said.

"That was a mistake, and I am hoping by owning up to it that you will forgive me." She said. "And, yes, if you want my butt of course I want you to take me there. I'm not denying you anything. I am a little tired, okay, and that is the truth; but I will do anything to make you happy-anything!"

"Who is Howard exactly anyway?" I said. I was fishing.

"His name is Howard Tyler. He works where I do at the lab. He came to work there about four months ago. He hit on me. I turned him down. He kept after me. I finally gave in. It was a mistake. One I will more than make up to you if you will permit me," she said.

"Is he married too?" I said. Her eyes shot open at that.

"Mickey, you're not going to tell his wife are you? It would wreck their marriage. He was just out for a little fun-like us," she said. "They have little children, twin girls. Their lives, their family would be ruined."

I stared at her. I had no words. I was pissed at him, but that was nothing compared to the anger I was feeling toward my loving wife. And yet, did I really want a divorce? I wasn't sure. I needed a clear head and at the moment I didn't have one. I needed to be thinking not reacting. I sat down on the little stool she used to do her makeup.

"Mickey, I have made some mistakes here tonight. I mean quite apart from cheating on you these past two months. I know it. They were thoughtless of me. I was caught up in the moment and a little tired and not-well-not thinking. Please give me a chance, just a small chance to make it up to you. You won't be sorry," she said.

"What's he gonna say if you cut him off," I said. She looked confused. "You do intend to cut him off now, don't you?"

"Oh, yes of course. I'm not thinking. I am tired, Mick, I really am. I know you know that that is the truth. Of course it's over. No more of this fantasy stuff either; it's too dangerous. I promise. And, yes, again, Howard is history. Just please don't ruin their family's lives."

"Is there anything else that I need to know. If there is, the time to unload it on me is now; there will be no more chances after tonight," I said.

"No. There's nothing else, except for the details, which I hope you won't demand I tell you about. That's the whole enchilada," she said.

"Rona, I'm giving you and Howie baby a one use only get out of jail free card. But, if you ever double me up. If I find out that there is more to this than what you tell me tonight-well. Just don't let it happen, Rona.

She looked confused for a moment, but then ran to me and almost toppled me throwing her arms around me and kissing me like she had seldom ever done.

She pushed back from me. Looked deep into my eyes. Dropped to her knees, and pulled my pants down. She swallowed and demanded that I take her butt. But, I couldn't right at that moment. Even though she tried her damndest to get my little soldier to come back to life, it wasn't happenin'.

"In the morning," she said. I nodded.

Rona had apparently not only made old Howie baby a historic artifact; she quit her job at the lab to avoid even the appearance of impropriety. She was able to get another anyway at almost the same pay if with a lot less seniority.

Things went along fine for the next several months and yes I did get her butt, and that regularly. I loved licking her there in preparation to entering her. She seemed to get off on it too. Times were good. Too good to last as it turned out. It was the day before our twentieth anniversary. I wanted to surprise her. We already had reservations for the next night, but a pre-anniversary luncheon seemed in order.

I was singing, literally, as I pulled into the clinic's parking lot where she now worked as a lab tech. Heading inside, I went to the nurses' station and asked for her. It was the first time I'd been inside of the place.

"Oh, miss Iverson is out to lunch with Mr. Tyler," said the pretty young thing manning the station. The shock I felt immediately began to give way to feelings of betrayal. The aide didn't seem to notice.

"Where do they normally eat?" I said.

"At Aunt Mary's Kitchen, just down the block," she said, nodding in the indicated direction.

I headed out walking. I wanted to catch them with their mouths full. I shouldn't have. I didn't need the added baggage.

I saw them through the window. They were sitting side by side not across from each other. He had his arm around her shoulder. He was actually feeding her a bit of food, a French fry I think.

I just kept standing there staring. It was at least a full minute, maybe two before she noticed me.

"No!" I saw her say. He looked up as she said it. His face went gray. I nodded, slowly. I mouthed the words, I loved you, to her, and walked off. She caught up with me just as I got to the corner.

"Mickey, you've got to listen to me. You've got to," she all but screamed. She was desperate.

"Yes, Rona, but not today. I have a lot on my mind. I think you can understand that. Let me be for now, okay," I said, and I crossed the street. She didn't follow.

I got home half an hour later, I'd asked the site boss for the rest of the day off. He okay's it. I moved some my stuff into the guest room. She got home twenty minutes after I did. I was sitting on the bed looking at the stuff I'd hauled into the room when she came in. Clearly she'd barely had time to say goodbye to her lover.

"Mickey what are you doing in here? Mickey, please." I didn't say anything. She started pacing back and forth in front of me wringing her hands. "Oh my God, Mickey, what you must think! I don't know where to begin," she said. I rose, still not saying anything, and headed downstairs.

We were in the kitchen where I mixed myself a martini; well, as the 'ole country boy said, "It was five o'clock somewhere."

I just looked at her and took a sip. "At least we won't have to waste money on a phony anniversary dinner," I said.

"Phony! What are you talking about! It's going to be our anniversary," she said.

"No. No. We almost made it, but not quite. It's too late today to do anything, and it's Friday, but I will be filing on Monday. The same rules that I set up last year apply. You okay with that?" I said, "or do I have a fight on my hands."

"One request, Mick, just one, okay? I won't fight it, and it'll be just as you say, but I have one request," she said.

"No sex," I said. "It ain't happenin'."

"No. No. Not that. But, you aren't going to be filing till Monday, right?" she said.

"Yeah, so?" I said.

"You stay here with me this weekend. The whole weekend and give me a chance to undo what I've done. If I can't do it, if I can't convince you to not do what you're thinking; I will sign the papers as soon as your lawyers make them available. Deal?" she said.

She was nothing if not resourceful, I thought. I knew there was no chance she could convince me that she hadn't doublecrossed me, doubled me up, but it would be interesting to see her try. Real interesting. I had no idea.

"Okay, your shot begins now," I said. And, I want a meeting with the asshole who has helped to ruin two marriages. That one set her back.

"Him? Howard? But-okay," she said. But, no violence-okay?"

"I won't hurt him, not physically anyway," I said. She knew her position was weak. She nodded.

"Okay, I'll work it out somehow," she said, "for tomorrow."

I sat on the edge of our bed. I was still dressed and planned on sleeping in the guestroom. However, it happened that that bed in the guestroom was covered with a mountain of laundry. Apart from throwing it all off onto the floor and claiming the bed as my territory, there was no way I could sleep there. So, here I was thinking of sleeping beside her-in my clothes.

"Aren't you going to get ready for bed, honey," she said.

"No sex, Rona, I told you," I said.

"No, no. I won't push you," she said. "But, you know you can't sleep good like that. Just get undressed. Leave your boxers on if you want. Just get comfy. Maybe we can talk a little bit if you want. Or not."

I muttered something. I couldn't even tell you what. But something. She smiled her sweetest and began disrobing herself as she watched me lose my clothes. Well, I do have a hard time sleeping except in my too-loose boxers.

"You wanna talk?" she said.

"Not especially, Rona. I'm just treading water till Monday. You got something to say; then, say it," I said.

"Okay," she said. "I will. When you saw us today, well, it was nothing. He was just being silly. We didn't do anything. He just gave me a French fry."

"You mean fed you a French fry," I said. "Looked romantic as hell to me, and you looked to be enjoying the hell out of it."

"Romantic! Hardly," she said. "He just, okay, fed me a French fry. But it was nothing."

"How do you figure on selling me that bundle of bullshit, Rona. He's my worst enemy and you were having lunch with him. Have you been fucking him? Before you answer, know this: I will know if you lie," I said. "And how long has he been working there?"

"Mickey, he's not your enemy. He doesn't know you. He is never going to know you. Before, when he-we-did what we did, your name never came up. He just wanted the sex that's all.

"To answer your question, He's been there the last few months. And, no I haven't fucked him," she said.

I'd said that I'd know if she were lying, but the fact was I wasn't sure. If she was lying; then, she was getting better at it.

"How long did you figure it would be before I found out he was working where you were? And, why is he working there? He's after you isn't he?" I said.

"I was afraid to tell you. I-I was hoping you wouldn't find out. I need the job. He doesn't work in the same lab that I do. He's in Radiology, and I'm in blood work: totally different divisions. This is the first time I'd had lunch with him or anything," she said. Oops, I was wrong she wasn't getting better at lying; that was a lie. The nurse I'd asked as to where to find them clearly knew they lunched together regularly.

"You're lying, Rona. One of your friends at the hospital told me that you lunch together often," I said. She paled. I just remained calm and detached. It shook her.

"I-I-I, okay. We do lunch together sometimes. But, it means nothing," she said.

"Maybe, Rona, but you lying to me means a helluva lot. Are you beginning to get it?" I was beginning to get an idea. And, I was having fun.

"Honey, please. I didn't do anything with him. I never will," she said.

"Right, Rona, whatever you say. But, well, how do we handle things from here on out do you suggest," I said. I was laughing inside watching her squirm.

"Huh? I-what do you mean?" she said.

"I mean just what I said, Rona. What do we do now? What do you think that we should do now? What's our next step?" I said. "Do we just forget about what I saw today and go on as if nothing happened?"

"I-I'm not sure," she said. "I mean it would be good if we can get by this."

"So, I just pretend he wasn't feeding you French fries. I just stop worrying about him working where you work. I just take it for granted that you weren't going to fuck him-if you haven't already. Is that about it?" I said. She was beginning to get it.

"I could quit my job?" she said, oh so softly.

"Hmm, okay, that might be a start," I said. "Tell you what, You call in tomorrow and tell them that you quit. I'll take the day off and go with you to get any of your stuff. Not that I don't trust you, Rona! I just don't want that evil gentleman trying to seduce you with any more French fries; he'd likely lace them with a date rape drug, judging from previous behavior. I'm sure you can understand where I'm coming from."

"Okay, I can do that," she said. She was sad. She was willing to quit even though it was going to hurt her to do so, but I actually had another plan in mind. This was beginning to get interesting. I couldn't wait to have my little sit down with the asshole.

We talked a little more and then we both turned over and fell asleep.

She called the asshole early. The conversation went on for some minutes before she came back into the kitchen, where I had set up headquarters, and took a seat across from me.

"I called him; he's coming over soon, right after lunch," she said.

"Good, I can't wait," I said.

He must have been nearby; he arrived in just under eleven minutes. That one surprised me.

I knew he had to be nervous. I mean he had to be praying that I wouldn't sink his ship with his wife and kids.

She answered the door. I was sitting in a straight backed chair sipping a cup of coffee.

"Hello, Howard," she said. "This is Mickey, my…"

"Mister Iverson to him," I said. "We're not friends and never will be."

Rona looked down. She was frightened. For his part, he was-well-nervous, like I said.

"Mister Iverson, I want you to know that, your wife and I haven't done anything that you'd have to be concerned about. Really, it's the truth," he said. Rona interrupted me.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Howard?" she said.

"No!" I said. "He's not a guest. He's my worst enemy. Get that, both of you." Rona was literally shaking. I was laughing my ass off inside.

"You know, Mr. Tyler, I love my wife. I take very strong exception to her lying to me-and cheating with you," I said.

"We did cheat before," he said, "but we have been no more than acquaintances since that time. I swear it."

"Hmm, I wonder," I said. "He tellin' the truth, Rona? I mean you know how hard it is to cover up lies like that, I mean if it is a lie."

"Yes! Yes, he is telling the truth Mick. Really he is," she said.

"Before you came over, my wife was begging me to not tell your wife. I should you know. I mean, she, your missus, has a right to know as far as I'm concerned.

"Oh, and my wife is willing to quit her job-again-to give me piece of mind about you putting the make on her. Do you know that?" I said. "Uh, no, of course you don't. That was just last night, and, well, what the hey. I can be nice twice, I guess."

The obvious relief for both of them was written all over their faces.

"Thank you, Mr. Iverson, that is very generous of you," he said.

"Well, you're welcome. And, I am not only not going to tell your wife; I am also not going to ask my wife to quit her job," I said.

Rona looked over at me, and a look of profound joy, so it seemed to me, washed over her features.

"No, indeed," I said, "she won't need to. You're quitting yours, Howie baby. You're not even going to go get your personal things from your locker or whatever. You will have them sent to you. Any questions?" The look on his face was priceless.

"No," he said, finally. His face was hangdog at that moment. Glancing over at Rona, her momentary joy had been replaced by a certain resigned sadness.

It struck me as odd that she was so upset about him hurting like he obviously was for losing his job, but didn't see what she'd done to me as being nearly so terrible. "You love him, don't you," I said.

Her head snapped around. "No! But, I feel sorry for him," she said. I let it slide. What she said did make a certain amount of sense.

We talked for a few more minutes, and Howie baby had the good sense to say his goodbyes. Rona let him out. They looked at each other briefly, and it only bothered me a little.

She came to me after he'd gone and sat beside me on the couch. "I'm sorry, Mickey, I really am. I know I hurt you, and I will spend the rest of my life proving my love for you."

I looked her up and down. "It's morning, but I need something more than breakfast," I said. She smiled at me, but it was a wan smile. The sex was okay, but a little tense. Well, you can imagine.

Howie baby did quit his job. I heard it through the grapevine that he'd also had some trouble getting another one, but finally did catch on with a small clinic just over the county line. It seems that radiology techs were in short supply in that area.

Things between Rona and me improved slowly as my ire began to fade into the vague mists of the unmourned past.

It was almost a year later that I began to suspect that all was not well in Iversonville

.

"Honey, I will be late tonight," she said. "I'm pulling a double; Cecilia miscarried, and I am taking her shift." I frowned. I knew that Cecilia, a close friend of Rona's, had been due. I didn't know her well. But she and her husband had been to our house once, maybe six months before.

"That's, That's a shame. Is she okay?" I said.

"Yes," said Rona. "Anyway, I will try not to be too late tonight."

She left and I was right behind her, both of us on our way to work. Something didn't feel right. It was her look, something. Then it hit me, a feeling. A feeling of—suspicion.

What if Rona was playing me? Oh shit! She was playing me. Her look could've meant nothing else.

I had an idea. It was an idea I almost wished I had not had. We got materials from Halley's, where Frank, Cecilia's husband, worked. We got materials from Halley's almost weekly for the jobs we were doing. And though I almost never drove a tractor anymore-I was a foreman now-today I would do the pick up-at Halley's. It would give me a legitimate reason to go there.

I pulled into Halley's Lumber and Building Materials at around 1:00PM.

"Yeah, Frank's here," said the hard hat. "He's loadin' up that trailer over there for your Kenworth," he said. I followed his gaze with mine. I saw Frank loading rebar into a twenty-foot trailer.

He saw me approach. "Hey guy," said Frank. He seemed somber. "Been a while. You here to pick up the load?"

"Yeah, and yeah, I said. "It has been a while, and I am here to pick up the load. How's it goin' with you, Frank," I said.

"Okay, Cecilia is doing a little better," he said. He'd said it like I was supposed to know something. I didn't.

"Oh?" I said.

"You didn't hear? Rona didn't tell you? Cecilia miscarried three weeks ago," he said. She just started back to work two days ago. I tried to tell her to take some time off, but she said she needed to work to keep her mind off of what happened to the baby," he said.

"Oh, wow," I said. "Yes, Rona did tell me." He could see I was not happy.

"Mickey? Something wrong? I mean-" he stopped in mid-phrase.

I looked up at him in the back of the van. "Not sure. Hey, thanks." Yeah Rona had told me, but what she hadn't told me was that Cecilia was working, not taking time off! Hell, Cecilia was probably doing a double to cover for Rona!

"Uh-you about ready to hook up?" I said, coming back to the conscious world.

"Yeah, it'll be about five minutes and we'll have you on the road," he said. He was a good as his word. One of his men backed the tractor up and hooked up to the trailer. "Uh-Mickey, if I can help with anything… " He was trying to be helpful, but he was clearly out of the loop.

"I-I-I guess I better be going. I have to get this load back. Uh-I have some stuff to do," I said. I never even had the chance to ask him any questions; but hell, he'd already answered the biggee for me.

I returned with the load and left it to the yard guys to unload it all. I was not feeling good, not good at all.

I wasn't worth a damn at work the rest of the day. I kinda just hung around the mobile office we were using to manage the site. Everybody was busy, so nobody noticed a malingering foreman. I headed out at five. I had a thought. I turned around and headed for Rona's place of work. If she was there maybe there would be a logical explanation for her lying to me about covering for Cecilia. I she wasn't there, maybe I could find out where she was.

The parking lot was but lightly populated by the time I got to the clinic. The day shift was history. The night shift, a lighter crew In knew, was still coming on. I noticed two or three white clad personnel types crossing the parking lot heading toward the entrance. I pulled up alongside of one of them.

"Hi," I said. "You know if Rona Iverson is working tonight." The woman looked at me strangely. It was clear she didn't approve of me, or maybe it was my question.

"No. She just left. I saw her drive off a minute ago with some guy," she said. The woman just turned and continued toward the entrance.

"Thanks," I said to her back, while smiling my phoniest. I had to think. She could be anywhere. Then I stopped. I looked around. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it until now. I drove around to the other side of the clinic. There it was, her car. She'd left with some guy, and she'd left her car in the lot. Unless-unless the woman I'd just spoken to had mistaken someone else for her, and Rona really was in the building. I had to check. I parked and went inside.

The place was cold, freezing really. I don't know why they always had to keep these places so cold; it was like they were trying to preserve meat! I headed for the nursing station. "Hi," I said to a middle aged woman pouring over some paperwork.

"Can I help you sir?" she said.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Could you tell me where the blood work lab is?" I said.

"Yes, of course, it's right there on the right," she said, pointing to a set of double doors a few yards down the hall.

It was the first time I had ever actually been to her lab. Going up to the glass doors, I saw that my marriage was effectively over. Cecilia was busy with some vials on the counter against the far wall. I waved. She waved back and headed over to me.

"Hi, Mickey. How are you? You just missed Rona. She left to go home not ten minutes ago," she said without any prompting from me.

"Yeah, Hi, Cecilia. I thought I could catch her and maybe take her out for dinner. Guess, I missed the bus.

"Say, I am very sorry to hear about you… " I said.

"Thank you, Mickey. I appreciate it. I guess God had other plans this time," she said. I nodded.

"Well, okay," I said. "Maybe you and Frank can come over again soon."

"Yes, well, that would be nice, Mickey," she said. We talked for another minute or so, and I left. As I got to the car, I decided that if Rona was going to play games, so was I. I drove back down the street to where the local taco tia was, and got me some grub and a large black coffee. Loaded up for the long haul, I headed back to the clinic and parked where I could see my wife's car. It was indeed going to be a long night, but in the end time well spent, or so I figured.

It was after 10:30 before a three or four year-old Chevy pulled into the lot and illuminated my car. I ducked down. The car having passed me, I came up and watched. Whoever was driving pulled right up next to Rona's car. A man got out and went around to the passenger side opening the door for his passenger; it was Rona. And the man? You guessed it: Howard Tyler. It was almost funny. They were maybe fifty yards away. I started up and drove up to them. The look on Rona's face when she saw me was total disbelief-shock.

"Rona, don't come home," I said, as I rolled down the window. "We're through."

"Mickey, wait!" were the last words I heard her utter until the day we both showed up in court for the final decree. She'd tried to talk to me a dozen times in the intervening months. But, the lawyers controlled that, so I was spared the waste of time I knew it would be.

The divorce finally out of the way, I wouldn't lay eyes on her again for many years, seven actually.

The Crazy Cow was my favorite watering hole. I was about halfway through my second Beam and water when I felt someone tug on my shirt sleeve. "Buy you a drink, cowboy," she said.

"Rona! What the fuck!" I said.

"It's been a while. I'm surprised you remember me," she said smiling.

"Oh, I remember you all right, Rona. I remember you just fine. Whaddya doin' here, if I may ask?" I said.

"Actually, I come here from time to time. About a week ago, when I was leaving, you were arriving. I asked around. I found out you frequent this place. So, I guess you could say I laid in wait for you," she said.

I stared at her. "For godssakes why? We're done, Rona. Your last betrayal, really was your last."

"Hmm, yes, maybe. But, I'm a little older now, and a little wiser. But, you haven't answered my question," she said.

"What question?"

"Can a girl buy you a drink?" she said. I guess I had a funny look on my face; she giggled.

"Yeah, what the hell. A free drink is always a winner," I said.

We got the small talk out of the way in maybe half an hour. Then the piano man came in and we danced a couple of times to slow jazz numbers that we both remembered and both liked. It was-pleasant.

"So you're not married," she said.

"No, once was a enough for me. I don't need the aggravation," I said. "You?"

"No, I guess I'm getting picky in my old age," she said.

"Really." I said.

"Was our marriage that bad?" she asked. "I mean we did have some good times and some nice moments, at least I thought we did."

"No, it wasn't all bad. If it had been I wouldn't have put up with the first Howie-incident," I said. "How is the old asshole anyway?"

"Don't know, haven't seen him in years," she said. I looked her askance.

"Really? I thought he was your knight in shining armor," I said.

"So did I. But, he was more of a poor man's Don Quixote: everything about him turned out to be fake or pretty much useless. Oh, he was good in bed, all right. And his cock was bigger than yours-a lot bigger. But, in the end, he was way your inferior in the ways that counted," she said. "Took me a couple of years to figure it out, but it finally became clear to me after I caught him fucking his former wife, if you can believe it."

"You're kidding!" I said.

"No, they're back together. Even after the nasty divorce and all, she's taken him back. Go figure. He was forced to sign a pre-nup, however. You can guess at some of the stipulations."

"Yeah, like he has to stand still for castration if he ever strays again," I said.

"About right," she said.

"Okay, you dumped the cheater's cheater, but you must have a beau out there," I said. "I mean a woman that looks like you?"

"Nice of you to say that, Mickey. But, no, there's nobody out there for me special. I go out once in a while. Mostly here actually," she said. "I get asked to dance some. And once in a blue moon a man takes me home and I let him do me. But, nobody special."

I was listening to her, and some of the old feelings returned. But, they were kinda mixed up. Feelings of desire mixed with feelings of betrayal, helluva mix. I wondered if she was as good a piece of ass as she had been. I decided to ask.

"You as good a fuck as you used to be?" I said. She smiled.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said. "Why? You wanna fuck me?" I nodded. "Okay, let's get out of here. Maybe we can come back later after you gotten your rocks off." She was laughing.

We didn't get back that night. But I did get my rocks off. I got my rocks off several times; well, it'd been a while. On the other side of the coin, she got hers off too. It was win-win, at least for the short run.

She stayed the night and over the next couple of months we met up in the bar a number of times. Went to dinner maybe three times, and then she moved in with me.

We didn't discuss making anything permanent, and she made it clear that she probably wouldn't remain absolutely monogamous. She'd discovered something about herself: she liked big dicks and she liked them attached to different men. But, for the most part we were a couple. She cooked and we both cleaned. We shared expenses, but kept our finances separate. We were like roommates with benefits. It worked for me.

Could I conceive of us becoming more than we currently were. Yeah, I could conceive of it, but I wasn't holding my breath. We were both in our fifties now; time was coming when we would have to think about maybe slowing down a bit. We'd reassess when that moment came.

-----------------------------

   Series:Down and Out
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:They've been divorced for years, but he has an idea.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/74100/down-and-out
Published:2013-05-19
It was raining hard. I watched the light traffic roll by fifteen stories below. My place wasn't exactly a penthouse; there were but three of those in the building, and they were on the eighteenth floor; but what the heck, I liked my place. Four bedrooms, three baths, a kitchen I could play tennis in; well, if I even liked tennis, and a really well appointed wet bar.

The streets of our little town-Granby Station, Ohio, population forty-some thousand-used to be heavy with cars and bikes and all manner of people on Saturday nights even when it did rain. But, with the price of gas these days, people didn't seem to do as much cruisin' as they used to. It was what it was.

I liked being inside in the rain. Great to watch, the rain, but no fun to drive in, not for me. Anyway, it was soothing to watch the clouds empty their contents on the earth below; that while holding a very well made manhattan in its hugely expensive crystal stem glass. Life was pretty good overall. The dim light of the street lamp a block distant lent an almost surreal aspect to the scene. I consciously sighed.

Tonight was a time for me to remember. I wondered what she was doing tonight. And, I wondered what she was wondering about or if she wondered at all. I supposed not, not about me at any rate; I was sure of that, well, pretty sure.

I'd not seen her in nine years; not since she left me and screwed me over in the divorce. Hate her? On some level, yes. No, that's not right, I didn't hate her; I just couldn't; I was kidding myself there. And no, it's not logical, not after what she did to me. The betrayal, the cold way she'd done me in the divorce: I still had a hard time getting my head around that.

My name is Richard Cort. My ex-wife? Her name was Winifred Cort, nee Williams, and yeah, Win, or Winnie for short. Winnie and I had met in school, Excelsior Community College: she a nursing student at the time; and, though she eventually graduated; she'd failed the NCLEX and had just given up on nursing. The blow to her ego, as I saw it, was too much for her. She'd got herself a job checking at Rogers' Supermart, and continued to live with her parents.

Me, I was an Accounting major. After my time at ECC I'd gone on to the university, gotten my B.A., and later my M.B.A in Accounting, passed the CPA exam, and set up an independent shop in a small office in town. I did good too, well, eventually I did. I eventually would create something of a niche for myself specializing in business taxes and financial management for small to medium sized, mostly family owned, local companies. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Winnie and I had dated off and on the whole time we'd been at Excelsior, and thereafter as opportunities allowed. Then, done with academics, and opened for business, I'd asked her to marry me. She'd taken a little time to think about it, which fact kinda bothered me, but had eventually said yes. We were commonly twenty-five years old at the time. Her parents, Melba and Michael Williams, again with whom she'd been living, were thrilled with her decision.

We'd struggled some in those early years as I worked horrendous hours to get my business going. And just as we were about to break out of the tough times, she hit me with it.

Five years into married bliss, and it had been blissful in my opinion; I was served with divorce papers. I was stunned, hurt, and angry. At first I thought she was dumping me for another man, but no, there was no player waiting in the wings. Her declared reason for ending us? She wanted to find herself. And how did she intend to find herself? Why in the all-enveloping embrace of the Army! She was going to be all she could be.

She got the house in the divorce, our only significant asset though the equity wasn't all that much after just five years of paying. She hadn't been making much at the time either, so she also got nominal alimony, and a piece of my 401k, and half of our savings. What did I get? Why my car, and my clothes and seventy-five percent of my 401k and half of our savings. She actually smiled at me and wished me well when we left the courthouse. I told her to fuck off; well, I was angry. She looked genuinely surprised, hurt. It was some six months later, that she left for boot camp-at her age twenty-nine, almost thirty. I prayed that she'd sprain her ankle on the obstacle course.

******

Of course I hadn't seen her in nine years, but at the time of the divorce, Winnie'd been pretty. At five-nine, one-thirty, short raven black hair, and a generally slim figure: oh yeah, she'd been pretty all right.

Me at the time? Five-eleven, one-seventy, thinning hair; and well, not especially pretty. Now? I'm still five-eleven, but now one ninety, mostly bald on top, and still not especially pretty. I do make some pretty good bread though-now. Female companionship? None worth mentioning; there'd been a few short term relationships over the years, but again, none worth mentioning. I'd spent most of my efforts trying to make a buck. At any rate, Winnie had spoiled me for other women. I just couldn't get over her; I couldn't.

As I watched the rain, still wondering, I made an on the spot decision. I'd not only not seen Winnie in the last nine years, I hadn't been back to the old neighborhood either.

Grabbing my coat, I went out into the rain, got in my restored '56 Chevy Belaire, and headed east across town.

The old neighborhood was still alive at 8:00PM. I saw the house. Lights were on in the living room. Somebody was home. Winnie? Or, had she sold the place? Did I have the guts to find out? Well, nothing ventured nothing gained.

I got out and walked hesitantly toward my goal. What the hell, at worst all she could do, if it was her, was tell me to get lost. I smiled. Of course if she were married…

Approaching the door and ignoring what the rain was doing to my clothes and by inference me, I rapped on the door.

Nothing, no answer. I rapped again. I was turning to leave when the door opened and the warmth and the light from the living room flooded the space around me.

"Yes," she said. I turned to see her. Her face took on an expression that I shall likely never forget and couldn't adequately characterize.

"Sweet Jesus in heaven! Is that you, Richard?" she said.

"Uh-yes," I said.

"You're soaked. What are you… come in, come in before you catch your death," she said.

She took my coat and went to get me some towels. Back, she helped dry me off as best she could.

Five minutes later, I was seated at our old dinette table with a cup of too-hot-to-drink tea in front of me, and a very curious ex-wife across from me.

"Well, mister, I don't know what brought you to these environs on this absolutely awful night"-she was I was sure referring to the weather-"but I'd sure like to know," she said. I was rotating the cup in front of me. I looked up at her, spread my hands in an I-wish-I-knew gesture.

"I wish I knew," I said. She smiled. As she did, I took in the picture. Longer hair now, still slim, still A-cups, still pretty, and yes, still in charge of my heart.

"Well, it's nice to see you. It's been forever," she said. "How are you doing?"

"Relative to what?" I said.

"Richard?"

"I'm doing okay. Live on the other side of town now. Got an apartment; it's in the back of the shop." For some reason, I'm not really sure why, I didn't tell her about my almost penthouse at the Florian Estates.

"Things are good for me overall. You?" I said. I saw her swallow. There was something wrong, but what. She looked toward the back of the house.

"Okay, I guess. Eating. Paying the bills-usually."

"Usually?" I said.

"Had some problems. But, like I say, things are mostly okay now."

"Problems? What kind of problems," I said.

"Richard… there's been… well a lot of history… " she started.

"Yes, well, I guess that's so," I said.

"Richard why have you come here tonight? I mean it's been so long," she said.

"Winnie, the truth is I don't know. You divorced me. I mean I have no business, no right. But, well, I have never stopped thinking about you, and-"

"And?" she said.

"And, I needed, still need, to know why, Winnie. I mean why was I not enough for you. Why did you leave me? I mean really," I said. "You never said, and I-well-I never asked, not then. But since then, well, almost every day. I mean I ask myself why. I mean, well I mean, you know…"

"Oh, Richard. That was so long ago. I'm not sure…"

"Winnie, please. I can take it. Really I can. I know it wasn't another man. I mean but the Army!" I said. She smiled a wan smile.

The Army was the…"

"The?" I said.

"It was my means of escape," she said.

"Escape from me?" I said.

"Richard this is not necessary. Really it's not. I'm not the same as I was then. Neither I suspect are you," she said. I snickered.

"No, no, I am not the same, I guess. Less hair," I said. Her turn to snicker.

"You know what I mean," she said. I went pensive. She knew I needed to hear the truth. The truth and only the truth. She sighed.

"It was a lot of things, Richard. I'd failed the nursing exam. No children."

"And me?" I said.

"Richard, I mean…"

"Winnie-and me?" I said.

"Richard, you were boring. In bed not very satisfying. We'd go to parties and you'd kinda smile a lot and engage in or say little or nothing. At home you were always working. During the day you were always-well-working at your office. It seemed, at the time, to be an endless chain of things that led nowhere. I had to get out. And, you are correct about other men; there weren't any. Not then." She said.

"Boring? I was boring?" I said. "You left me because I was boring?" She looked away.

"For godssake," I said. "I could have changed. Why didn't you give me a chance to change? Why!" I said, raising my voice a little too much.

"Richard, I don't mean to demean you. But-you're an accountant. Richard-I mean an accountant! There are few occupations that breed boring more certainly than that. At the time I felt that I had to escape," she said.

"At the time?" I said. She looked sad.

"I was younger. Thought I needed something different. I was just twenty-nine. The young don't always do things the smart way."

As I listened to her, I was beginning to think that she was regretting having left me. Wishful thinking on my part? Maybe.

"Miss me? I mean after the fact," I said, changing the subject, getting to the point, more or less radically.

"Not at first. You knew I did go into the Army."

"Yes. And-can I ask? Did you ever sprain your ankle? I mean in boot camp?" I said. She looked at me strangely. Well, the question was kind of a strange one I suppose.

"No, broke my thumb and got battered up in training some. But, no, no ankle injury? Why do you ask a question like that?" she said. I smiled.

"It doesn't matter," I said.

"I was in for four years. Did a tour in Iraq. Mustered out. Got married a year later. Had the babies. Divorced a year ago now."

"Winnie, you mentioned problems." She gave me a look. And, yes, I heard her remark about having babies, plural.

"Like I said I was married. For three years. Had three children," she motioned toward the back of the house. "He left me. Served me right I guess after what I did to you." I gave her a studied look.

"You have anyone now?" I said, and I could feel my blood pressure go up as I did. I left the question as to why she was abandoned and divorced by husband number two for another day.

"No, not too many men want a woman with my baggage," she said. "I date on a rare occasion, but nothing comes of any of it. Dates, like I said, but no relationships if that's what you're asking?" I nodded.

"Sounds like my situation. I mean dates, but no relationships," I said. Her turn to nod.

For the next minutes the silence was thunderous.

"Winnie, I don't know what's happening here, but whatever it is, it leads me to ask a question," I said.

"A question?"

"Yes, well mister boring here would like to ask you for a date. And, in so asking, might mister boring expect a positive response to his request?" I said. She gave me a look, a smirk, then a genuine smile.

"Yes, miss Winnie would be happy to make you happy with a positive response," said my ex-wife. My turn to smile. The date would be for the following Friday evening. For this one I would be putting on dog. Oh yeah. Boring it definitely would not be.

******

I maybe should note here that, in spite of having three kids, Winnie had changed hardly at all. Maybe an extra ten pounds-maybe. But, everything else the same as far as I could see.

We were pushing forty the both of us, but tonight we were like teenagers feeling our way through a first date. We were at The Post, a small but very high priced bistro just outside of town.

Our wines in front of us, I kept playing with mine, turning the glass, squeezing the stem.

"Richard? What are you doing?" said Winnie. I sighed.

"Win, I'm so freakin' nervous, I can't even begin to tell you. I'm terrified that I might bore you, and I am not kidding," I said. There, I'd said it; I'd gotten it out. "I guess I just don't really know how to act around a woman of your quality, or any woman." She smiled, and it was an indulgent smile.

"Richard, I'm a lot easier to please than I was years ago. Just be yourself. Tell you what, if you do something really boring, I'll let you know. Okay?" she said. I looked up at her.

"Okay," I said. "Would you? I'd actually appreciate it." She broke out laughing.

"Richard, you're a ding dong, you know that. And, I still very much love you for that quality. Yes, I said love you. You were always the best, just, well…"

"Not enough at the time?" I finished for her. She tendered me a quizzical glance.

"You know-yes-at the time. But this is now. I'm older. I know better. So, stop worrying about being boring. I'll sigh real loudly if you begin to put me to sleep. That'll let you know. Okay?" she said.

"Yes, okay," I said.

The steaks were great. The dancing was really great-God the feel of her body against mine-it was indescribable. We went out for coffee afterwards.

"Have fun?" I said.

"You bet, sailor," she said. "Most in a long time."

"So, we can…?" I started.

"Do it again?" she said.

"Yes," I said. "Maybe next Saturday night?"

"It's a date," she said. "Rich, I really am glad you came to see me the other night, rain and all. You helped me a lot whether you know it or not. I was kinda down in the dumps, and, there you were."

"Win, I will always be there for you. Any time of the day or night. You've got my number. I hope you wake me up at 3:00AM to tell me you need me for something, anything," I said. She smirked.

"Anything?" she said. Suddenly I was a red faced teenager certain I had ruined my chances with my date.

"Don't worry, Richard, you didn't say anything wrong. Really," she said.

"I'm always doing stuff like that," I said. "Saying stuff like that. I'm well known around town as foot-in-the-mouth Ritchie." She laughed uproariously at my description of myself. And, I was red faced again. Frustrating!

I checked my watch. It was 11:00PM. We were standing in front of her house. The house that used to be our house. She had a look on her that spelled "decision time."

"You can come in, Richard. I want you to," she said. My eyes got as big as dinner plates. Could she be… "My parents have the children until tomorrow, so it's all right." I followed her in and closed the door behind us.

Have a seat, I'll be back in a minute," she said. I did as she commanded.

Ten minutes later-and yes I had been checking my watch-she reappeared in a long flannel night gown. My look must have cued her to my disappointment. She laughed.

"Don't worry, Richard, you're staying the night, and you will get to fuck me. But it's kinda cool out here, and I think we could do with a night cap or two before you take me. Okay?" she said.

"Yes," I squeaked.

"Sorry I took so long to change."

"Sure, sure," I said. "I understand."

She went to the little cabinet against the far wall. It was the same one we'd always kept the liquor in so many years ago. Some things never changed, I guessed. She poured us each a JD neat. We'd had a glass of wine at dinner, but that's all until now. She'd remembered my favorite. I wondered if she'd gotten it special for me during the week. It was a new bottle.

"You any better at screwing a woman than you used to be?" she said. I think it was a serious question.

"I don't know," I said. "But, you are for sure gonna get my A-game," I said. She smiled.

"Good," she said. She poured us a couple of refills and we sipped them, not exactly fast, but with some small degree of urgency as one might be inclined to say. Finished, she came to me.

She looked down at me sitting on the couch as I was. In one swift movement, she pulled the flannel teaser up-over-and-off of her. She had nothing underneath.

She mounted the couch on her knees, butt back and looked back at me. "You gonna stay dressed all night or what?" she said.

"I'll take the or what," I said. I have never, I mean never in my life, stripped that fast. I fell to my now naked knees and just gazed at her treasures. I leaned in to her and kissed her buttocks. Spreading her cheeks and slave-like licked and sucked on her anus. She was trying to stifle a giggle, I could tell.

I switched to her pussy. I sucked on her clit till I was sure it was raw, and enjoyed the hell out of the fact as I knew she'd cum twice because of my efforts. I knew it because she squirted. I stood and poked at her. She was no help. I had to guide my cock into her and listened as she sighed, I hoped with pleasure, and not disappointment.

I began to fuck her slowly. God she was tight. I don't think she'd had all that many dates in recent days. Beautiful though he was, she couldn't have. Well, and so what if that were the case; neither had I been getting lucky all that much. But, I wondered at it, her possible paucity of pussy pounding.

She began to squirm, to shiver, and finally to convulse; she'd made it. God did I feel good about that. In ancient times I hadn't gotten her off but once in fifty tries. But tonight, now, I had. It boded well for any hopes I had that she'd be mine again at least in some way.

"That, dear man, was very good. I needed it bad too. It'd been a while," she said. Well, that answered any doubts I had about her having been getting much; she hadn't.

We lay beside each other only mildly exhausted. It was half past twelve. "It was exceptionally good for me," I said. "God, Win, how I have missed you!"

"I've missed you too, Ritchie, really," she said.

It had been a good night, a very good night. I didn't stay the night after all; it just didn't feel right to, not yet. That, however, I knew would soon happen. I was going to make it happen.

******

A week later we were sitting at the dinette, her dinette, coffees refilled.

"So tell me," I said.

"There's almost too much to tell," she said. I don't know. Hashing it over. I don't know."

"Honey girl, I need to know. I'm your new old lover. I need to you to feel safe and loved and okay. For that to happen, I need to know what you've got going and what might still be out there," I said. She sighed.

"Okay," she said. "To begin with you know I was married. He was a black guy, Richard. King sized cock, king sized ego, and a pathological wife beater. Name was Nelson Ripley. Two of my daughters are his; their names are Beth, age three; and Cali age two. Because of the beatings, I took to drinking too much. When the divorce happened he almost got custody because of that, the drinking. But he didn't; he got twenty years instead for dealing meth."

"Jesus!" I said. "But you have three daughters?"

"I do. The other one had a different daddy. He's white, and he's in the wind. We, well, we weren't married. He paid the bills when Ripley was sent up, got me preggers, and Bernice age one. One day he just took off with some teeny bopper without so much as a by you leave. His name was Gordon Manning." I nodded.

"And your job now, you haven't said," I said.

"No, no job, I'm on welfare, Ritchie. So, if you need money you've come to the wrong place," she said, smiling. She knew I didn't need her money; well, I hope she did.

"No, dear heart, I don't need any money. I am employed," I said. "We haven't talked about finances or jobs or anything like that so far, but tonight we are going to."

"Whatever," she said.

"Win, it would seem to be obvious, but can I ask. Do you still have any feeling of love for either of the babies'daddies?" I said. She gave me a strange look.

"No, none at all. The one was cruel and evil the other abandoned us. So no, none," she said. I sagged back in my chair.

"Win, I make enough to help you out, and if you will allow; I'm going to do just that," I said. She smiled, it was a condescending smile.

"I can't let you do that," she said. "I'm sure you're doing fine, but handling two households is a lot. Especially when the other household includes three growing babies.

"And, Ritchie I have some very big debts and a loan-well, a bad loan," she said.

My turn to smile. "I can afford it, and them too, and I just need you to allow me the chance to be your knight in shining armor. Okay?" I said. "And what is this bad loan if I may ask?" She didn't want to answer me.

"I needed to take the baby Melba to the doctors, asthma. I got a loan from a guy, but the interest is too great, and the bill keeps getting bigger and bigger." My eyes narrowed.

"A loan shark?" I said. She nodded.

"Yes," she said.

"How much?" I said.

"Ritchie, it's all right. I will pay it somehow. I can't ask you to take on something that large," she said.

"Yeah, well, I am," I said. "So how much? Please," I said.

"It was five thousand, but it's almost ten now," she said.

"When is it due? The first," she said.

"And, if you don't pay it back?" I said. "If you shine the guy on?" She looked away.

"I was going to take out a second mortgage," she said. "There's enough equity to pay him off."

I didn't say that that's what she should have done in the first place, not be messing with gangsters. But, I kept my mouth shut.

What I didn't want to do at that moment was to reveal to her my real financial situation. So I dodged the bullet, by ducking. "I have a friend, a banker-which I really did-who'll make you the loan real cheap and real fast. How would that be?" I said. "I may be boring, but I am an accountant and I do know a few people." I was smiling. And, so was she, but her smile was tentative.

What I had done, and that on purpose, was to leave her with the impression that I was just a bit above average income guy without actually saying such. It's where I wanted to leave things for the present.

"Anything else, any other problems," I said.

"No, no other problems," she said. "Except maybe how to thank you for still caring about me. And, I will take you up on the bank loan; that would be a godsend."

"I will always care about you, dear heart, no matter what. All I ask is that you give me a chance to show you how much," I said. She came to me and kissed me harder than I have ever been kissed even by her.

I did arrange the loan, and no her credit would not even have been strong enough to get it herself, but mine was. As for the mortgage, that's almost never a good idea for someone in her situation. It would have been her last refuge, and understanding her situation, as I now did, she'd have been back in the hole anyway in a short time-it was no win for her going down that road. At any rate, she had me now, so she was safe. Safer than she knew.

******

Mister Ripley was history, and a friend of mine on the force was alerted to him. I figured he'd screw up sooner or later and get nailed. Well, that was the hope. I hated men who threatened women; well, it's who I am.

Things went along swimmingly for a few months. She and I didn't have anything formal worked out, but we were getting it on pretty regular, usually once a week after our dates. My long dead psyche was brought back to life, and then it wasn't.

We had planned to go dining and dancing on Friday night. I was taking her to a special place I knew of up by the lake. The view was great up there, the food good, and the music and dancing of the mellow variety.

I showed up at her place at 7:00, the appointed time. She wasn't home. I called her cell; it was off. I prayed nothing had happened to her. I'd check on her later, and yes, I was holding my breath.

No one to go out with, but dressed for a night out, I hit the nearest bar, a country western sawdust joint. I'd been there about half an hour when they came in. She was dressed nicely. He was overdressed and looked like the prototype of the drugstore cowboy: sequins and tassels on his shirt-and pants! She'd clearly stood me up, and for a serious loser at that; well, that was the way I looked at things.

My pride actually took a hit with this guy being her choice for the evening. His outfit though bespoke something else: he had some bucks. His boots were genuine snakeskin, probably in the neighborhood of $1,000 worth. I watched as he secured a table and came up to the bar to order. I smiled at him; he smiled back. He ordered two Heinekens. Goin' all out for his woman of the evening I could see.

He took his beers back to their table. I watched as he did so. When he got there, he kinda toasted me, raising his bottle in my direction and smiled. It was then that she saw me. She paled. I raised my manhattan to him and smiled back, took a sip, set the glass down, and went to pay and leave.

She didn't come after me and she didn't immediately call me or text me or anything. I went home to cry in my beer over my life and especially my boring personality. I figured she was after the guy to maybe get some security. Why not me? Didn't have a clue. Maybe she figured the guy had more bucks than I did.

I chalked it up to experience and decided to forget her, finally, and get on with my life. Well, I was hurt-okay!

I really didn't cotton to being stood up; it was a kind of betrayal the way I saw it. Maybe a minor one, but a betrayal nonetheless. If we hadn't had a date, I would have been a little disappointed, but not as destroyed as was in fact the case.

I finally got a visit a week later at the shop; she had the address. She still hadn't seen where I really lived. The room in the back had a cot, a small bathroom, and a mini-kitchen. I used it a lot during tax season. And, I had been using it more since going out with Winnie, and now that all worked for me.

******

It was early evening; I had just gotten done with some paperwork. The knock was light but hearable.

"Winnie!" I said. I was genuinely surprised as I answered the door.

"Persona no grata or can I come in," she said. I stared at her for a moment deciding. I left the door open and went back inside. I was still putting away papers I'd been going over. She took a seat on the rattan bench my customers used.

"Whaddya need, Win," I said. She sighed.

"So this is where you live-and work?" she said. It was clear she was not impressed with my "apparent" economic state.

"Yes," I said. Well, it was only a little lie. I did stay at the shop sometimes, kinda often of late actually.

"I'm here to apologize," she said. "I stood you up. I was a skunk. I am very sorry for doing that to you."

"That it?" I said.

"No. I'd like to take you to dinner," she said. I gave her a look that must have spelled suspicion.

"It won't happen again," she said.

"Why do you want to go out with me. Seems you already have a replacement for me," I said.

"Hardly, and certainly not with that guy," she said.

"You didn't get along with your cowboy?" I said, kinda sarcastically.

"Cowboy! Hell no, he's no cowboy; he's a building contractor. Makes some good bucks, but that's where it ends with him. Hell, he was so boring he made you look like Jason Bourne," she said. The endless hits to my ego were taking a toll, but she seemed to realize it this time and regrouped.

"I mean the old you," she said. "You're not so bad anymore. Really." Another qualified shot to my ego, but, at least qualified.

"Hmm, well thank you for that. I think," I said.

"It's true, Rich, really," she said. I shrugged.

"So, whaddya say?" she said.

"About what?" I said.

"Dinner? Tonight," she said.

"It's Tuesday," I said.

"Yes, but you're the boss here aren't you?" she said. I nodded.

"Okay, I guess," I said. My lack of enthusiasm seemed to get to her some. Well, it should have.

******

We dined and danced and went to the park for a late night stroll. "What is it you're looking for, Win? I mean really?" I said, as we strolled along. She gave me a look.

"I mean do I have a chance with you? You must have figured out by now that I want you back. But, tell me truly, am I spinning my wheels? Am I wasting my time with you?" I said. Now, she smiled.

"I still have feelings for you, Ritchie. I do. But… " she said.

"But, what? I love you, Win. I will take care of you. You and the babies. I'm employed. I do okay economically. You say I'm not as boring as I used to be. So what's the hang up?" I said.

"I don't know, Ritchie. I guess I just want to make sure that I don't blow it like I always seem to be doing.

"The other night with the cowboy, Barry Caldwell, I was with him to see if he and I would match up. He makes a lot of money. Well, and well, I'm looking out for my babies now, not just me. I want them to have what I have so far not been able to give them.

"You're a good guy, Richard. The best, really. But, I know what you make. We lived together for five years. I've seen where you live. Oh, I'm sure you're doing okay now, overall. And I have give you credit; I know how hard you work. But, Ritchie, I'm at a place in my life today where I don't want to struggle anymore. If I had the money, I guess, I'd marry you in a New York minute. But, I'm flat broke. Don't have two nickels to rub together.

"I don't want to struggle anymore, Ritchie, and I don't want to saddle you with responsibilities that are not of your making. I guess what I'm saying is that I want to wait and see before taking the plunge again. Would that be all right with you, Rich?" she said. "I mean I want to be fair to you, and frankly to myself too."

"Okay, Win. I understand. Just please, don't stand me up again, okay," I said. She gave out a small laugh.

"I won't, big guy. I was an asshole their other night. It won't happen again."

And for six months things went very well. We dated, we fucked, we got close again. And, I was thinking of actually popping the question. But then it happened-again!

******

This time she called to cancel; that is she didn't just not show up. I guess one could say that things were improving. Said she wasn't feeling well, and would I mind if we postponed to the following weekend, she said. I probably sounded a little grumpy, but that was because I knew she was lying. If she knew me from long ago, well, I could say the same thing about her.

By 6:00, I was parked a ways down the street where I could see her front door. A very nice Lexus pulled up in front at 6:25. She came out, hopped in, and she and whoever drove off. I went home.

I didn't call her during the week, and she didn't call me until Thursday. I didn't take the call. And, I didn't show up Friday night, the night of our scheduled, actually rescheduled, date.

I had been paying her rent and utilities since we'd gotten back to dating each other, even after our mini-breakup, but now I stopped. Her lover or lovers could do the paying now. If she didn't respect me enough to keep her promises, then I had no interest in helping her out. Well, I did, but I was simply not going to be used.

I was more or less surprised that I didn't hear from her again for three full months, not even a text message. It was clear to me that she'd deduced that I knew what she'd done and was afraid to talk to me. But three months later, after, as I'm sure was the case, she thought I'd had enough time to cool off, she showed up again. It was a Sunday morning, 9:00AM, and once again I'd been staying at the office.

"Hi Ritchie," she said. "Still mad at me?"

"Yes," I said, and slammed the door in her face. She must have been waiting. She had to have been still on the porch, deciding I guess, about the wisdom of making a second go at me. Some five minutes lapsed before she rang the doorbell again.

"I told you, yes I'm still mad at you, Winnie. Now please leave. Okay."

"Please, Ritchie. May I come in for a few minutes?" she said.

Those cow eyes she attacked me with got her in. I was still mad at her for how she'd done me, but I just couldn't resist talking to her.

"Whaddya want, Win. You did me wrong, again, and I feel like a fool having let you get away with it the first time. Who was it by the way, the contractor?" I said. She looked away.

"Yes," she whispered. "He, well he made me promises. But, he broke them all," she said.

"Kinda like you?" I said, and that sarcastically.

"I deserved that," she said. "I love you Rich. I realized that after Harry, the contractor, screwed me over. Money isn't everything. I wish I had some, but it isn't everything. I realize that now," she said. "Forgive me?" she said.

God help me, she looked so helpless in that moment that I did forgive her. And, I hated my weakness for doing so. But weakness or not I could not hate the woman, and I wanted to hate her! She was an idiot and that was all there was to it. But, no, I loved her too much to not forgive her, and so I did.

My forgiveness led to several more than interesting consequences.

One, I got to see more of the babies as time went on and they were adorable. I hadn't had a chance to see all that much of them previously because I lived across town and pretty much the only times I was at her place was to take her out. But now I moved in on the weekends: her idea: it was bigger than my little mini-apartment at the office as she pointedly noted. And, it would allow me to be mnore4 confident in her faithfulness. Oh, and I should mention that in the almost a year since that rainy night; she had not yet been to my real place; but hell, I hadn't seen all that much of it either; and now it was tax season.

And then there was the second thing, she inherited a bit of money; well, if a hundred grand could be considered a mere bit. This however, her money, I did not know about for some little time.

******

Our dates resumed, the sex resumed, and then she was gone, again, without warning or phone call or note on the door jamb, none of it. And, my anger resumed. And then she returned, as she thought, to resume our relationship!

"Honey, honey! I've got news!" she said. My look, as I answered the door that Tuesday morning-at 6:00 fucking AM-two weeks later, must have cued her to the undeniable fact that I was more than a little pissed.

"Oops! You're pissed, huh?" she said.

"Mightily," I said. "You can leave now never to return," and I slammed the door in her face. Didn't Yogi Berra have something to say about situations like this one?

There was no five minute "thinking about it delay" this time. She was ringing the bell and pounding on the door with gusto and grim and relentless determination before I'd gotten six feet from it. I opened it again, and that with a grim determination of my own. I was not sitting still for her having found yet another "it just happened cock" to satisfy her need for that which did not bore her. I was not.

But just as I opened the door and was about to open my mouth she rushed in and commanded me to sit!

"Sit!"

"What are you doing! I just told you to pound pavement! Go!" I said.

"No! And shut the fuck up. My grandma died," she said. She'd stopped me.

"Grandma Williams?" I said.

"No, my great grandma Dorsey, my mom's side; she was ninety-six. I'd never even met her except these past two weeks: she lived in Virginia. I was there when she died," she said.

"So you're saying you weren't out fucking another drugstore cowboy?" I said. She gave me a look that spelled volumes.

"Oh! No! No-no-no-no-no," she said.

"You should have called me, something," I said. Now she sat down.

"I didn't?" she said. It was like she didn't realize that she hadn't called me. Now I was pissed all over again.

"I didn't realize I hadn't called you. But-I didn't did I," she said, almost to herself. "Oh, Richard, I feel so bad!"

"Uh-huh," I said. "It's clear to me Win, that I am just not that important to you. You really do need to find someone else. Someone maybe a bit less boring, and less forgettable than me," I said. I was rising to get the door so she could leave.

"Sit down, Richard. I'm not leaving. In a little bit, you're going to fuck me, and I'm going to love it-and you-and we are going to resume our lives together," she said. "Uh, our married lives together."

"What? Huh? When you can't even be bothered to remember to call me when you leave town? What kind of marriage would that be?" I said.

"I know, I know. But, this was a special case. I was whisked away by mom and dad. And then I was at Grandma's bedside, and then there was the reading of the will, and the relatives and the lawyers, and the I don't know what all. And, I thought I had called you; in my mind I had," she said. "And, Richard it was all so crazy."

I sagged, I was standing next to the door, but now I sagged against it. "Okay, get it out, all of it. I'm still pissed, and you will not tell me to wait or you're tired or any of it. Just get it all out. And, I mean now!" I said. She nodded.

"Okay," she said. An hour later she was done. It was indeed quite a tale. I could see she'd been overwhelmed and she was tired. But I didn't care. I really was still pissed.

"That it," I said.

"Not quite," she said. "There is one more thing." A slight smile began it spread across her face. I looked her askance.

"Well?" I said.

"Well, I never knew it, but great grandma Dorsey was rich. Even mom didn't know it, not exactly. I mean mom knew she had property a hotel and a small restaurant in Richmond. Mom inherited those; they're, mom and dad, planning to move back east right away, but that's another story. There were a few cousins still in the mix too and an organization catering to animal rights. But, no other close direct relatives. The cousins and the animal rights people were at the funeral too. They mostly arrived the day before it, actually," she said.

"Okay?" I said.

"Richard, great grandma, left a million dollars in cash. Half of it went to the animals. The rest was divided up equally among the cousins. And, Richard-and me. I got one hundred thousand dollars, minus taxes of course, but I'll still be coming out pretty good. Richard, you and I will be coming out pretty good.

"Richard we can afford to get remarried!" she said. She was so ebullient that I couldn't help but smile, so I did.

She came to me, threw her arms around me and cried. Damn women.

"Okay, Winifred, you and I will talk some more, but okay," I said.

And, yes, friends I was indeed still pissed. And, also indeed, still madly in love with her.

Cuddling on the couch we kissed thirty or forty times, felt each other up more or less continuously, and generally made up. And, then she hit me with yet another kick in my emotional balls.

I rose to lead her upstairs. She pulled me back down beside her on the couch. I gave her a what-now look.

"Richard, I have a confession to make," she said.

I looked at her with a gaze laden with suspicion. "Yes?" I said.

Well, all these months, I mean since you knocked on my door that rainy night, you have been my number one guy; you know that, right?" She said.

"Your number one guy?" I said, not quite understanding her.

"Yes, but well, there have been a few other men, not many but a few over that time period," she said. I think she was holding her breath waiting to see if I was going to blow up.

"You mean besides the drugstore cowboy!" I said. Now, I had questions.

"Yes, a few, not many," she said.

"A few, Winnie? How many is a few?" I wasn't quite out of control-yet."

"Maybe a half dozen?" she said.

"What the fuck! When was the last one, and give it to me straight," I said. I was clearly brooking no bullshit, not this time.

She said something, but so quietly I couldn't hear it. "What?" I said. She sighed.

"The day before yesterday," she said. She was not meeting my gaze.

"The what! The day before yesterday! And, you come in here expecting that I'm going to marry you and just forget all about all of this! Are you fucking crazy!" I didn't quite scream. No, I take that back; I was screaming.

"Richard, that-all of it-was before we were in a position to get married again. Now things are different. I will never again have another man. You are not only number one now, you are the only one," she said.

"And, I should believe you why?" I said.

"I don't know. I just know it's the truth. I have never loved anyone else but you. Well, there's my babies of course; but that's different," she said. I nodded.

"I don't know what to do here, Winnie. You've left me nowhere to go and with all kinds of questions. It's not a very nice place to be either," I said.

"But Richard, we have the money now. I won't lose the house. And you don't have to keep paying the rent out of your salary. You can have it all," she said.

"All of what?" I said. She looked at me like I was crazy.

"Why the money of course. And-me," she said, and that kind of quietly.

Now I was in a quandary. I knew how much that money meant to her. And, she was willing to give it all to me to get me to-what-accept her past playing around and to forgive her and marry her again. It was crazy, but I nodded.

"Richard, I have finally realized just how much I love you and more just how much you love me. I have to have you. There is no sacrifice I wouldn't make to guarantee that you'll be mine," she said.

"Okay," I said. "Okay, Winnie. But this is how it's going to be. You will hand over the money to me. And, you will sign a prenup that guarantees that if you play around on me that you will end up with nothing. If that program works for you, we'll get it all done forthwith."

"Yes," she said. "It works for me." And it did. And we were remarried a week later. And then we went on our honeymoon. But, there was still a little, eensy teensy, problem. I was a liar by omission. And it was about to play hell with my self-satisfied solution to all of our problems.

******

The ship was big and so was the Caribbean. The cruise was wonderful. I'd never been on one, but now I was, that is, we were. St. Thomas was still a day out. The cost? Ten grand. She was having a good time, so was I. But there was something that wasn't right. Finally, she let me have it. And it stopped me-cold.

"Honey," she started, "I can trust you right?" she said. Coming from her I thought it an odd question, but, as it turned out it was a fair question.

"Yes, of course," I said. "Why would you ask such a thing?" I had assumed she was referring to my being sexually monogamous. That twern't it.

"Honey, the money I gave you, you know," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Well, I'm glad we were able to afford this wonderful honeymoon. But, well, I don't want to ruin it for us. But well…"

"Win? What is it you're trying to say?' I said, really not having a clue.

"Well, I know you couldn't afford this, this wonderful cruise, honeymoon, on what you make; so, I have to assume you used some of the money that I gave you.

"Richard, I was kind of hoping that we could invest the bulk of that money to ensure our futures, not spend it; well, you know, too loosely." I sagged back against the rail we had been standing at.

"Oh," I said. Now I had a problem. I had been meaning to out myself to her as to my real wealth, but I had wanted to do it in a staged manner so as to not get hit with the flack that now seemed certain to overwhelm me.

I had actually taken all of it, her money, and put it in an irrevocable trust account for her. I didn't need it, she didn't need it, unless she cheated on me; which was seeming less and less likely as the days passed. I coughed.

I eye'd her. "Win, I have a little confession to make of my own. Actually, I was planning on outing myself to you on our return, but I think that maybe now is the best time…"

"Richard! You haven't lost it, spent it, used it!" she said. She was actually terrified. "Richard you have always been so careful with money. I thought I could trust you. Richard what have you done!" she said. She gave me a look and stalked off toward our cabin.

I stood there floored. Talk about taking things for granted, jumping to conclusions. She just had and that big time. And frankly, I was a little bit pissed-again. But, well, just a little.

I headed for the nearest bar; there were a dozen of them on the boat. Two JDs later I found myself marching for our cabin door. I entered. She lay on the bed. She'd been crying. I'd been drinking. They're not the same thing.

"Richard, how could you, $83,000 gone!" she said to me. I took a deep breath.

"Winnie, it is not gone, not even a penny of it," I said. Her head snapped around.

"Huh?" she said.

"Winifred Cort, you need to stop jumping to conclusions and making crazy assumptions. And, you are right, I am careful with money. And you are wrong, I can afford a honeymoon like this on what I make," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Winifred, you playing around with those other men, and yes, I suspected it was more than just with the drugstore cowboy; didn't know it, but did suspect it. Well, it made me skittish about telling you anything meaningful. But, that said…

"I had just about gotten to the point where I was going to be trusting you again, when you came back from your great grandma's and laid the rest of your tale on me. I cannot tell you how disappointed I was to hear all of that," I said.

"But…"

"But, when you offered to hand over your inheritance, that caught my attention. I thought I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. You were willing to make a sacrifice, and to you it was a big one. And I was certain that it bothered you to do it, bothered you a lot. So, I thought, okay; I upped the ante, and got you to sign the prenup as well. That put me in control of a bad situation, bad for me. I need you to be faithful. If you are, you've got it made, Winifred Cort, nee Williams."

"I don't understand?" she said.

"Winnie, I was out of the picture, your picture for many years. A lot happened. I did good. Winnie, I'm a multi-millionaire: twenty million give or take actually," I said.

She started to stare, then convulse, then laugh, then faint. It was a true Kodak moment.

While she was out I set up my laptop. She came to with a little help from me after some several minutes.

Her eyes popped open. "Huh?" she said.

"Come here," I said. I set her in front of the computer. "Click." She did and my bank account came up. Choose accounts and look at certificates." She did.

"It says four million," she said. You mentioned twenty million.

"The rest is in property and other securities," I said. "They're not listed on the bank site."

"Properties?"

"For one is our villa in Torremolinos, Spain. It's small, but quite nice and the view really superb," I said. "There are others."

"We're rich?" she squeaked.

"Very," I said. She screamed and attacked me, first with kisses, then with hugs and kisses, and then with one humungous slap to the face!

"That's for scaring the shit outta me," she said, and then she began kissing me some more.

The sex that night? Kinky and fatiguing and destructive of one's physicality. We were going to make it. Yes, indeed.

-----------------------------

   Series:Ego
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A wimp hubby is disrespected, but finally finds the huevos to leave, but...
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/63494/ego
Published:2010-03-23
We'd arrived two hours before. My wife was having a great time, mostly dancing with men from her division. I, on the other hand, was not having a great time. I had not had so much as a single dance with her. I was on the point of making a scene, but instead, as she returned to our table, I again asked her to dance; she turned me down; make that she turned me down loudly. I know my face flushed and I think I trembled a little. As I was retaking my seat, trying to sink as deeply into it as I could, another of her worker friends came up and asked her to dance. She accepted, but paused to look thoughtfully at me. I stood, rather suddenly; maybe the scene I'd been considering was a good idea.

"I'm your husband, Janine. I don't get to dance with you?" I said. The place was crowded; it was an uncomfortable situation; well, it was for me at any rate.

She sighed as though she were dealing with a whiny teenager, "I'll say it again, Marvin, maybe later if you're a good boy." She laughed at my obvious embarrassment. "Oh, don't look so glum; I was only teasing you. Just relax, you'll get your turn." She looked over at the group seated around the table and smirked. My humiliation was total.

The six other people sitting with us were either smiling at my discomfort or looking away in sympathy. I sat back down as my wife was led out onto the dance floor by the guy who'd come up to ask her to dance after I had-Gerald, her assistant. I couldn't meet the gaze of the others at the table.

My stomach was roiling. I reached for my drink and downed it. I studied my now empty glass, sighed, and got up to go get another; it gave me an excuse to get away from the lot of them, at least for a few minutes. Of the six of them, our group, only Veronica, Veronica Staley, could be considered a friend of mine; she was one of the two who'd looked away in sympathy. The other looker-awayer was my brother-in-law, Harley Fairchild.

Once at the bar, I was in no hurry to return to the scene of my humiliation, so I didn't signal the bartender to come to me; but, eventually, she did anyway. "What'll yuh have?" she said. Her name plate announced that her name was Lilly.

"Bourbon and water, Lilly, bond," I said. I needed the 100 proof stuff. It looked to be a long night for me. I eyed my wife out on the floor with the guy she'd already danced with several times-good 'ole Gerald-they were practically welded together. Me? None, not even one dance, and we'd been in attendance for some two hours already. They, my wife and Gerald, did seem made for each other. I planned to tell her so when we were alone. It seemed to me that I had become little more than her chauffer; oh, I'm Marvin Griswold, the hubby, though you'd never know it by the way she acted.

******

I'd married Janine fifteen years before, and for ten of those years we'd been okay, or, so I'd thought. But, over the last several years, ever since her promotion, I'd become pretty much just a financial contributor to the household and little else: the lesser contributor if it came to that; she made more than I did. We'd had no children, but we did have a number of nieces and nephews: the offspring of her sisters, Bethany and Clarisse, the aforementioned Harley was Clarisse's husband.

I met Janine at work; we both worked for Curtis Distributors Inc. a business with operations in half a dozen Midwestern states. She'd been Robert Curtis', the CEO's, secretary. But, for the past five years, she had been working in records. It had been a promotion for her, like I said; actually, she ran the place. Me? I was a field agent-sounds better than salesman-responsible for wholesaling dry goods, mostly clothes, but some other things, to supermarkets and the like. I was pretty good at it. Not number one, but no worse than the middle of the sales food chain. My bonuses were pretty good too-I was a commission-plus-salary sales rep. That said, Janine, again, made more than me. Whatever, financially we had no problems.

Janine was pretty. Dark-haired, tall at five-nine; and, maybe a little on the hefty side now at her age forty. Me, I was also forty, still a slim five-eight-the slim part the result of my maintaining what the army had put me through so many years ago. I'd loved the army.

******

Rather than return to the table. I just took an empty seat at the bar; nobody'd miss me; I was sure of that. The way I figured it, it was either sit at the bar or leave. I was not going to go back to the group, her group. Except for the noted exceptions, they didn't like me, and frankly I didn't like them. If she wanted to play with her new boy toy then so be it. I refused sit with them and be the butt of their jokes or be further humiliated by her neglect.

"What's the matter, sad sack," said Lilly, "woman problems?" I looked at her but said nothing. I just sipped my drink and waited for the night to end. She just stared at me for a moment and went back to whatever she was doing before she intruded on my misery.

I just wanted outta there. It was 11pm. I figured Janine would be good for maybe a couple more hours before I had to chauffer her home. And, wimp that I was, I wouldn't be sayin' much, certainly nothing about what she'd done to me. I didn't need the aggravation that it would lead to.

It turned out that I'd been right: it was maybe a bit less than two hours that it took her to finally decide it was time to leave.

"There you are, Marvin. I wondered where you'd got to," said Janine. I just looked at her. I was in clear view of almost every table in the place, and I hadn't moved since sitting down. She knew where I was, And, she knew I knew she knew. She just didn't give damn what I thought; that was pretty clear.

The ride home was quiet. I was upset, but it was my own fault; I kept letting her get away with disrespecting me.

"I thought you wanted to dance with me," she said, finally as I turned on to our street.

"Yes, but well, you… " I started.

"Don't you go blaming me for you not being around," she said. "I told you I would dance with you, and you just disappeared. It's your own fault." I took her words as a sign that I should just shut up and not say anything.

She looked over at me. I guess she thought that I was going to retort; I wasn't. I thought I heard her snicker under her breath. The whole thing was killing me inside.

I pulled into the driveway. She got out and headed into the house. I noticed the trash cans had been emptied and delayed going inside until I had them put away in the back yard: a few more minutes without having to deal with her.

She was upstairs already, I could hear her moving around. I went up. She was already in bed and she watched me as I undressed. I stopped and looked at her. She eyed me strangely.

I got in bed and she snuggled up against me. I was still hurt-well I was- and totally still feeling the humiliation she'd forced me to endure. I really didn't want to be snuggling up with her. She reached around and took hold of my cock; it was soft and shrunken back into my body.

"What's the matter?" she said. "No interest? I think maybe we could have a little fun, you know, if you're interested."

"No, I guess not," I said. "I'm kinda tired." I was not prepared for her reaction.

"Well then, fuck you." She got up, threw on a robe, and went out of the room. I heard the door to the guest room down the hall, slam.

At that moment I had an epiphany. She'd destroyed my ego by her neglect and her incredible disrespect. Now she was treating me like "I'd" done something wrong and was punishing me for it. It was the last straw.

Quietly I got up, redressed myself, and pulled a couple of suitcases down from the top of the walk-in closet. I began packing. It was finally clear to me that we were essentially through. All that was left was the shouting, but that wasn't going to happen this night. I had to get out. I decided that I'd soon be divorced and be looking for a woman who gave a damn; yes, and a new job. Yes, indeed, a new woman would be a first priority; the one I was with clearly didn't want me.

******

I drove to the nearest ATM and pulled as much as I could get on each of my cards; I had five of them. A couple of grand would get me started somewhere. I left the bank accounts for her; she could have it all; I just wanted the hell out!

I needed a job, and I needed to find one soon, but salesmen worth their salt could find work almost anywhere. I was definitely worth my salt.

I caught a late bus out of town, and by late afternoon the next day I was six hundred miles down the street. Amarillo was a nice town as I soon realized. Friendly, and possessed of a need: a need for a good dry goods salesman.

Frank Bozman hired me on the spot. He owned and operated a dry goods distributorship: ACME distributors. Two salesmen had quit leaving him high and dry. If I worked things right, I would be rewarded with both territories: big money, again, if I worked it right. But, all work and no play and all that…

My personal time was mostly spent at Castro's Bar and Grill. The Rye was nice and the ice was cold. Hard to beat a combination like that. Add to that there was a cocktail waitress named Allison Macri: five-six, one-twenty, long brown locks, and the quickest smile I ever saw.

Allison was evidently the local tease. She was so cute that not a night went by that she didn't leave a bunch of guys with serious sets of blue balls, and she knew it too! But, I was a salesman, right? I was indeed, and I was my number one product…

"Hey Allison, the last drink you brought was messed up," I said.

"Huh? What are you talking about, Marvin?" she said.

"Well, the glass it was in had a hole in the top and it all leaked out," I said. She looked at me, finally got it, and smiled.

"Smartass," she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "You wanna go out with me some night? I'm usually not as boring as I am here."

"Hmm, well, I don't know, Marvin. What would your wife say?" she thought that she had me.

"Separated," I said. "We haven't seen or communicated with each other for almost a year now. Hell, she might even have divorced me; I don't know."

"You don't know? How's that?" she said. I gave her the short version. She listened attentively.

"Okay," she said, finally.

"Okay?"

"Yes, I'll go out with you. Saturday night okay?" she said. I looked around; a couple of guys were giving me envious looks. I felt pretty good. My ego was still in the rebuilding stage, but I felt pretty good.

******

Allison and I, as it turned out, were both looking for the same thing: someone to turn to; she'd been shit on too by an ex who must've been crazy to do so. Was it love between us? No, not really, but we both recognized in each the other a kind of safe harbor. We never promised to be exclusive, but we did eventually end up spending a deal of time together. At any rate, it was our third date before I got anything more than a kiss goodnight.

"You can come in tonight, Marv. It's okay," she said. I followed her obediently into her apartment, a second floor walkup.

"Nice place. Nice owner. Nice evening." I said.

"Yes, it's all very nice," she laughed. She retrieved a bottle of wine and two of what looked to be crystal wine glasses from the credenza under the large picture window that looked out onto the street and across to the small city park beyond. It was a romantic setting.

She took a seat on the couch and motioned me to join her. I did. We sipped our ruby port in silence. No words had been spoken. The time seemed right. I leaned in and kissed her, lightly, on the lips. She returned it.

I let my hands slide very lightly down her sides and come to rest on her hips. I pulled her to me and pressed my maleness into her skirt-covered cleft. There was something very erotic about the fact that we were both still completely dressed. I leaned in once again but this time pressed my face against her breasts. They-her breasts-made me feel safe. It was a very sweet moment.

I pushed her back onto the sofa's surface and began to explore her tummy sliding my hand ever lower till it came to where her legs met at her mons.

Growing bolder I slid my hand up her skirt and found her panties. I massaged her there for a moment before pulling the hem aside and inserting a finger inside of her. She squirmed for a moment adjusting herself to my assault. I continued to kiss her lips and cheeks and ears.

"Take your pants off, Marvin, and hurry. I need you inside me," she said. I followed her orders.

I was naked from the waist down, I pulled her panties down her legs and kissed her slit. I licked it and worshiped it. She was soaking wet by now, and I was as hard as a rock. I pushed into her. There was a little bit of resistance at first, but then I was inside of her. I waited. She opened her eyes and wrinkled her brow.

"Come on, big guy, do me," she said. "I need it. It's been a long time." I began sawing in and out of her taking my time. It was some minutes before she began buckling up towards me meeting my thrusts. Little grunts and squeals came from deep inside of her, as she came, stiffening and excreting her feminine fluids. I filled her vagina with what seemed a gallon of cum and collapsed on top of her breathing heavily.

"That was nice, Marvin," she said.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah," I said. "It was more than nice."

We talked for some time eventually falling asleep in each other's arm-on the floor.

******

It was two more years before my life took a decided turn for the "unbelievable." ACME Inc. had been doing well. I was making as much as I ever did working for my former employer, and old man Bozman had taken a liking to me. My old life behind me, a more or less steady girlfriend who liked me for me, a nice apartment: everything was going good. Then, Jenny, the boss' secretary, handed me a note.

"Marv, Mr. Bozman would like to see you when you get a minute," she said. She seemed a little nervous.

"You okay, Jen," I said.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said. The note said essentially the same thing that Jenny had said to me.

"He available now?" I said.

"Yes, I think so. Let me check," she said. She did, and she waved me to go in. Something was wrong; Jenny was just too somber for her.

Entering the inner sanctum, I noted the boss scribbling something on a pad. He looked up.

"Marv, have a seat," he said, indicating the chairs in front of his desk. I did.

"Marv, I've got some news."

"Mr. Bozman?" I started.

"Well, it's not bad news, exactly, but it's kind of uncomfortable," he said. "Marv, I've sold the company. The buyer is Curtis Distributors. I know you used to work for them.

My look must have cued him. "Marv, your job is safe. Everybody's job is; that was part of the deal." I nodded. The entire notion of working for a company that also employed my ex, or whatever she was now, bothered me. But, she was in records back in Lincoln, Nebraska; it shouldn't be a problem, I thought; I hoped it wouldn't be.

I was at a place in my life where I had been able to put most of the unpleasantness of my time with Janine behind me. Still, a nagging something, I wasn't sure what, had crept into my head and I couldn't seem to shake it.

******

Allison and I remained friends. She was still a waitress and drink server at Castro's. I was still a salesman, but now, the number one salesman. True the universe was smaller, as a subsidiary of Curtis Distributors, but I'd finally saved enough to get me a three bedroom house. Plus I had a couple of investments, preferred stock that sent me dividend checks on occasion. Things were moving right along quite nicely.

I should mention here that, while Allison and I had certainly taken our relationship to the next level, we still remained loose and uncommitted; we preferred it that way. We'd both dated others and made no big deal about it when our needs or appointments occasionally conflicted.

It was a Thursday evening when she laid the bomb on me. We were laying next to each other after an athletic evening of rather raw sex.

"Marv, I'm afraid this will be our last little time together," she said. I looked over at her and waited. To say her words surprised me would be an understatement.

"Allison?" I said.

"Marv, I think I've found someone, and I think he's going to ask me to marry him," she said. I slowly shook my head and smiled.

"Allison, that's great. I am happy for you. I won't pretend that I won't miss our time together, but-well-I'm happy for you," I said.

She threw her arms around me and kissed me so hard I feared for my dental work. "I will always love you, Marv. You were there when I needed someone," she said.

"The same goes for me, dear girl. Send me an invitation, and for godssake don't plan on being a stranger. And, I mean you and your new man," I said.

"You got it, big guy," she said.

I did attend the wedding, a simple ceremony at a local Baptist church. Allison was beautiful and her new man Parker T. Wilson III seemed a nice guy. I was genuinely happy for her.

After Allison and her new husband got themselves settled in, they were indeed not strangers. The Wilsons came over to my place from time to time for the mandatory barbecues, and I spent a commensurate amount of time at Allison and Parker's place. Parker, it turned out, was a lawyer. He had his own firm, small but aggressive; he was always at war with somebody or some organization. I shoulda been I lawyer, I thought. I came to that analysis after spending enumerable hours listening to Parker's war stories-and that over numerous liquid adventures at Castro's, our common watering hole. God, he had an interesting life, and, he had a great woman.

******

Curtis' Inc. had been growing and expanding by leaps and bounds over the two, almost three, years since they had acquired ACME. True to his word all of us at ACME had retained our jobs, and as I said, I had prospered. Then, inevitably, I suppose, the word came down. A major reorganization was to take place after the first of the year. It seemed Curtis was suffering growing pains and there would be some downsizing. I didn't feel threatened; I mean I was number one. But, a few of my colleagues were concerned.

The day of reckoning arrived. It was January 16th. I was forty-five years old and settled. I'd been dating, since losing Allison to Parker, but nothing steady: I was only responsible for me. The meeting, called to announce the official downsizing of our subsidiary, was at 9:00AM fifteen minutes hence.

"Seen the new boss of sales?" said my partner in crime, Jason Colb.

"No, not yet. Guess we all will now though. Any word?" I said.

"His name's Taylor, I think. I hear he goes for the throat. No compunction and no mercy. If the numbers aren't there the rep is history-no discussion. You should be good though Marv. I mean with your record," said Jason.

"Yeah, maybe," I said. Just as I said that a hush came over the group. A woman, a tall woman, a woman whose maiden name had been Taylor entered the room. My wife, or my ex-wife, whatever, looked good. I almost got up and headed for HRO. I'd be unemployed by day's end if not sooner, no question about that. But, I kept my seat. I ran once, not this time.

Janine looked over the assembled sales force: twenty-six souls. The rumor had been that eight of us would be let go. I wondered who besides me would be on the list. I knew Janine. She was efficient as hell. If she was the new VP in charge of the sales force, and really overall at ACME; then, there was no doubt whatever that she knew I was here and what my record had been, and I knew it wouldn't save me. My prediction that she knew I was there was soon proved accurate. Her eyes met mine and held them; she didn't smile; but hell, neither did I.

I slumped back in my seat and waited. I really liked my job. Losing it was gonna be problematical. I was forty-five. Most firms would be looking for younger men, college men; I was neither. Well, something would turn up. I hear Wal-Mart was looking for greeters.

"Gentlemen, my name is Janine Taylor. You all know why I am here. I won't beat around the bush. Some of you will receive pink slips today. Those who do will receive letters of recommendation and a severance package. Those who will be staying on will receive bonus checks. The latter kind of an incentive to keep up the good work since you will be asked to take up the slack for those who will be leaving. Are there any questions?" There were none.

"I will be having individual meetings with each of the stayers tomorrow morning. The times of your appointments with me are in the envelopes with your checks. See each of you then."

With that she took one last look around, stared at me for a brief moment, or so I thought, and strode out followed by a woman who I assumed was her PA. A man remained behind and began calling out names. As he did, the name called went up to get his envelope. As my name was called I got up and walked out. I headed for Castro's.

******

I talked to Jack, the barkeep. Explained my predicament, and he commiserated with me. I think I only paid for two of my martinis, and I knew for certain I'd had at least four. It all of a sudden was dark. I got up to go. "You sure you can drive, Marv?" said Jack.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I said. I wasn't. The cop that busted me assured me of that. I called Parker. He came down, but he said he couldn't do anything till the following morning. He returned then.

"Seventy-two hours?" I said.

"Yeah, that's the best I can do for you, Marv," said Parker. "Jesus man, you were drunk as a skunk."

We talked for a little while and I let him know why I was in a blue funk.

"She can't fire you for merely personal reasons, Marv. If you want to keep your job, I think I can be of help," he said.

"I don't know, Parker, working under her, I mean even if she doesn't fire me, would be pretty tough," I said.

"My opinion: you should talk to her. It's been a long time. Water under the bridge and all of that. She'd be crazy to fire a first rate employee like you. If she's any kind of a manager, she'll know that and be professional about it," said Parker. "You need to talk to her, Marv. I don't mean socialize with her, just talk to her."

So I sat. I sat in my cell, and I cried a little. My life was so fucked up. Just when I was really getting it together too. Just when I was getting to the point where I hardly thought of Janine and how she'd done me; this all had to happen. The gods hated me; I was sure of it.

"Hey, hotshot, you got a visitor," said the uniform. It was 2:00PM. Visiting hours, so I'd been told.

"Yeah, well who is it?" I said.

"Don't know," he said. "Let's go." I followed him out of the cell and down the hall. Entering the interview room, I stopped cold in my tracks. She looked real good.

"Hello, Marvin," said Janine. I sat down but didn't say anything, not at first. "You missed your appointment this morning."

"What would have been the point? What? You had to fire me in person?" I said. She eyed me.

"Why would you have thought I was going to fire you? I know your record. You're the best they've got," she said. "You had to know that."

"What are you here for, Janine. You here to gloat?" I said, ignoring her words. "We both know you'll be getting rid of me at the earliest opportunity. I ain't got no illusions. I know what you think of me-thought of me-whatever."

"Marvin Griswold, you and I have had our differences. And, you did walk out on me leaving me high and dry, but that's personal. This is business. You're not being fired. And, I expect you to perform as well in the future as you evidently have in the past, I mean for ACME." She looked over at the guard. He nodded. She passed me an envelope. I looked up at her suspicion written all over my face I was certain.

I opened the envelope. It was a check and a schedule. I had been scheduled to have an appointment with the boss, her, at 10:00AM. The check startled me. It was made out for $5,000.

I looked up at her again. "Thank you, I guess," I said. I was confused, stunned actually.

"Marvin, I know why you're in here. It was stupid of you, but I can't say I really blame you. It had to be a shock for you to see me like that. I should've let you know ahead of time. I should've realized how you'd likely react to my being your boss. My bad. I'm sorry. That said, can I assume you will be back to work after you've served your time in here?" she said. I nodded.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "I need the job. I won't try to fool you about that." Her turn to nod.

"Okay then. Please stop in and see me as soon as possible. There are some business matters we need to discuss," she said. With that she rose and headed for the door. She turned at the last second and looked back at me. "You look good, Marvin. I hope we can get along." She turned once again and was gone. I was led back to my cell to ponder my situation.

She seemed to be sincere. Still-well, I didn't have to deal with her except on a professional basis. If I was lucky, I might only have to see her for maybe half an hour once a week at the sales meetings. I could live with that. The check I was holding would come in handy.

There was still one question that I would like to have had the answer to: were we still married? I'd know soon enough, I guessed.

******

Allison and Parker arrived to pick me up when I was released. They took me to the impound where my car had been parked for the duration. Parker was friends with the judge who had my case, and that kept me from further embarrassment and punishment for my little faux pas. My gratitude was profuse.

"Marv, no more drinking and driving, okay. Judge Patterson will not be merciful in the future," said my lawyer.

"I gotcha, Parker. From now on cabs will be the modus operandi if the occasion ever again arises," said.

"Good," he said.

"So, your Janine visited you in there?" said Allison.

"She's not my Janine anymore, Allison, but yes, she gave me my check and assured me my job was safe. I have to say, I was more than a little surprised," I said.

"You gonna talk to her?" said Allison.

"I'll have to she's the boss. I'll see her at least once a week at the reps' meeting," I said.

"Marvin! You know what I mean," said Lilly.

I sighed, "I don't know Allison. Even after all of this time, I still carry the scars if you know what I mean. But, that said, I expect at some point it may happen. Who knows for sure though." She nodded her understanding, looked thoughtful and decided to unload on me.

"Marvin, you may or may not realize it, but you still love her. You might want to give her a chance to come back," said Allison.

"Me love Janine? Hah! No way," I said. "But, even granting that I might not know what I'm talking about; there's still the little codicil of whether or not she loves me! Hah! Answer that one, my dear girl," I said.

"A no brainer, Marvin; she does. She does or she never would have visited you in the jail. She would have waited for you to get out and invited you to your make up meeting, and that's if she didn't just decide to dump your unloved ass and give your territory to someone else," said Allison.

"Well, you couldn't prove it by me," I said.

"Yeah, well you are a man," she said, smiling like a possum. I was gnashing my teeth in frustration. This woman was a lot quicker than the average female, I'd agree, but, sometimes she was also as irritating as could be.

******

Parker had broken me out of the calaboose on Friday. That gave me two days to contemplate my meeting with the boss. On some level I still didn't completely believe that she wasn't setting me up for some kind of put down, but realistically, I doubted it. I figured it was like Parker said: she had two sides to her, the personal side and the business side, and never the twain should meet; that in sum was how Parker's theory went. Well, we'd see.

******

I decided to dress for the occasion. I have to admit I was shaking in my boots. Not because I was worried that my ex-woman would fire me. Not because I was concerned about what she might say of a personal nature that might open up old wounds, but because of pure down and dirty ego. She'd put me down so many times, and crushed the life out of my pride so many times, that I was not going to let myself be put down again. No sir! I was going to come out of that meeting with my self-esteem-well-steaming!

The suit I chose I'd bought some time before for a special presentation I'd made at the Regional Sales Reps Convention. It'd set me back two grand. The tie alone was $150, likewise the shoes. I went to my barber-a woman-and had my hair styled, something I did only rarely: today was a rare day. Whatever, I was going to outshine the mistress of stress and be ready for whatever might come. Of course, when all was said and done; she was the one with the loaded gun, not me: she could still fire me. Well fucking che sera sera!

"Jesus, Marvin, you look great," said Jenny, who was now a highly paid receptionist-secretary-all around assistant to the big cheese herself, as I walked into the office.

"Thanks, Jen, I needed that," I said. "I'm supposed to have an appointment," I said. I looked at my watch, "in six minutes."

"Yes, you are on tap, but the boss said to send you in as soon as you got here. So just go in.

"Marvin. Good luck," said Jenny, as I made my way to the boss' office.

"Thanks, girl, Luvyuh," I said.

I stood in front of the door for a full ten seconds before opening it. I could feel Jenny's eyes on my back. I twisted the knob and went in.

"Marvin… " was the first word of our, my, new boss. I nodded in her direction waiting for her to give me some kind of direction. She just stared at me.

"Marvin, you look marvelous," she said. She said it like it was a total shock to her. She recovered. "Uh-have a seat, Marvin."

"Thank you," I said. "If I may say so, you look good too." And, she did. She smiled her thanks.

"Well, here we are," she said. "It's been a long time. Not counting my little visit with you a few days ago, of course. Can I ask, how have you been, Marvin?"

"Good, making a life for myself. Mr. Bozman was good to me. I did my best for him. You might say we had a symbiotic relationship business-wise," I said. She looked pensive.

She rose and came around to the front of her desk and took the seat opposite me. She crossed her still shapely legs. At that moment it occurred to me; that she'd lost weight; she was much slimmer than I remembered. I had the feeling that she was trying her best to not be threatening. I noticed and appreciated her effort.

"I guess I need to get a few things cleared up between us first," she said. "Would that be all right?" Her tone was conciliatory.

"Sure. I'm here to get my marching orders," I said. She frowned.

"Marvin, our history-I'm sorry for the way I treated you in the old days. You had no way of knowing of course, but my brother Harley read me the riot act after you left, as did Clarisse, as did a few others. You were gone of course, and no one had a clue. I wanted to apologize then, but well, I couldn't. You were gone, so I'm apologizing now."

I didn't know what to say. So, I said the obvious. "Water under the bridge, Janine. No grudges here. It was all years ago. I will do the job, and I will do it well. I promise you that."

"Well good, and I knew you would. But, since you brought it up, I do need to say the obvious. I won't be showing you any favoritism, Marvin; I can't. It wouldn't be fair to the other reps. You understand?" she said. I smiled.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," I said. "I can hold my own. No favors required."

"Thank you. I knew you'd understand," she said. I had not expected favors, in fact, if anything I'd expected the opposite; so, what she'd said meant little though I suppose she'd had to say it.

"Marvin, if you want, we can go off the record now and get some of the personal stuff out of the way. I'm not asking you to, but if you want, it's okay," she said.

She'd surprised me. I figured that "someday" we'd have a sit down, but this seemed awfully soon. Still, the army had taught me a lot of things, and one big thing it had taught me, was that he who hesitates is lost.

"Maybe we could," I said. "But…"

"You will not be jeopardizing your job in any way, Marvin. We could wait, but sooner or later-well you know," she said. It almost seemed like she was reading my mind. I nodded.

"Janine, I left that night, after the dance-well-because my ego was crushed. It almost seemed like you were ashamed of me. I decided that I had to at least have the huevos to get the hell out since I sure didn't seem to have the balls to confront you. I loved you so much, Janine. And, every time you put me down I just wanted to die. I guess you could say that I was the ultimate pussy," I said. I paused; she took up the slack.

She sighed. Here it comes, I thought. "That was the problem, Marvin, part of it at any rate," she said. "Marvin, you were a pussy. I kept waiting for you to man up, and you never did. The fact is that I was kind of ashamed of you. And, there were other things.

"Other things?" I said. "That wasn't enough!" I'd raised my voice without realizing it. She looked up, a concerned expression owning her features. "Sorry, we need to do this, and I need to be calm. I promise to be calm, very calm. Go ahead if you want. I'm calm." I wasn't of course, but I was trying.

"When I married you, Marvin, I was overweight, stringy haired, and well, not really all that pretty. I settled for you. You seemed to like me, and I needed to be married and you were handsome, a little on the short side, but nice looking. You'd been in the army, so I figured you knew how to be man; I wanted you to be my man. No, I'll say it, I wanted you to be my knight in shining armor. Stupid as it sounds today; it was my thinking at the time. But…

"But?" I said, wanting her to get to it.

"Well, you never were, I mean my knight in shining armor. In bed you were at best boring. On the dance floor I felt funny because I was taller than you; I had to wear flats to deemphasize your height-or mine—whichever.

"Finally, I'd had it, one night, about ten years ago, I decided to hell with it, I was going to wear high heels. I put on my four-inch CFMs. We danced maybe two numbers that night, you and I, both fast. I couldn't bring myself to slow dance with you, Marvin, towering over you like I did with the heels and all. I guess that's when I began treating you so badly. I think subconsciously I wanted to divorce you."

"Fuck!" I said. "You sure know how to absolutely destroy a man. I could have gone my whole life and not heard any of this. I mean my whole fucking life!"

"Yes, well, you'll be pleased to know, mister, that after all of that. All of my arrogance and ruminating and doubting and wanting and doing-all of it-I grew up," She said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Once you left, I realized what I'd lost. A damn good husband. A husband who actually did love me, chunky body and all. A man who would do anything I asked, and do it immediately. I realized, Marvin, that I loved you. But there were still other things," she said.

"Fuck, Janine, is there any end to this litany of put downs!" I said.

"Marvin, once you were gone, I knew I had a choice to make. I could cry in my beer for the rest of my life, or I could get my act together and become a real adult. I decided on the latter.

"Marvin, I'm smart, and I'm talented. That's why I make the big bucks. You have your talents too, but they are not the kind of things that command the truly big dollars. But, that's okay. You do what you do better than anybody; and, it makes you happy. I know, I've been watching you from afar."

"What the fuck?" I said. "You've been spying on me?"

"No, no, nothing like that. But, once I was promoted by Curtis, one of my jobs was to evaluate personnel. When Curtis became interested in acquiring ACME, I was given the job of looking into the personnel here. It was unofficial and no records were kept, but I had to make a report on the sales force. Imagine my surprise when I found out that you were part of it. No, make that, there is no way you could possibly imagine my surprise," she said.

"Jesus!" I said.

"Marvin, I know about your friends, Allison and Parker. I know that at one time Allison and you were an item. It was then that I changed my name back to its maiden form. I knew then that there was no hope for you and me getting back together," she said.

"So we're divorced?" I said.

"No, not yet, I wanted to talk to you first. I'd done enough to you. I wanted that to be your decision. I'm not with anyone, Marvin, and I won't be. I should tell you, there have been a few men-lovers-but all short term, and no emotional attachment with any of them. Well, anyway, I do have needs. That said, Marvin, you're the only man who will ever have my heart. It took me a while to get that into my stupid female brain, but there it is," she said.

I was more than uncomfortable; I was fuming. "Let me see if I have this right," I said. "I'm lousy in bed. Sure as hell no knight in shining armor. I'm a pussy. I'm too short. And, not much of a bread winner. Did I miss anything? Oh yeah, you love me."

"Marvin…"

"Janine, I think we need to end this. I really, really think we need to end this. Is that okay?" I said. She nodded. "Thank you." I got up and left without even shutting the door as I went out. Jenny gave me a quizzical look.

******

I did see Janine at the weekly meetings, now held each Thursday from 8:00 to 9:00AM. She acknowledged me most times, but made no attempt to show me any special consideration unless my sales figures happened to command it; that did happen more than once.

We didn't socialize, and I skipped most of the parties that the company occasionally threw wanting to avoid any kind of close proximity to her. The do's I did go to were uniformly small honoraria for this or that individual being promoted or retiring and the like. Janine, to her credit did give me my space and didn't try to drag me into close conversation or group discussion at any of them. In a word, she left me alone. I appreciated that, but never told her so.

It was the end of the year: Christmas time. I hadn't spoken to her privately since our meeting the previous January. We all got the memo: the Christmas Party was going to be on the 16th. I didn't plan to go. Well, I didn't plan to until Allison closeted me and put a gun to my head-figuratively.

"Marvin, you have to go. And, you have to stop being an asshole and talk to the woman, and I mean socially," she said. "For the record, Parker has had her checked out. She is not seeing anyone. Give you any ideas, big guy?"

"What? Why would Parker be doing something like that?" I said.

"You can't be serious, Marvin. We both care about you. If she was involved, we wanted to know to give you a heads up. She's not, so, we're giving you a heads up," she said, giggling.

"Allison, sometimes you go too far," I said. "You have no idea what she thinks of me. She laid it all out for me when she took over last January. She thinks I'm a nothing, no good in bed, not much of a bread winner; the list is long."

"Hmm, not much in bed? I thought you were okay. But, we girls are different, maybe she needs things that I didn't. No matter, she can train you. As for the breadwinner thing; well, that's nonsense. Besides, what if she is better at the money thing than you. Money isn't all there is to a relationship, not even.

"Just give her a shot, Marvin, it's time," she said.

I sighed, I guess it was time to let it all go. To see if there was anything there. Allison was pretty smart. It seemed that all of the women I knew were smarter than me. Helluva thing.

******

The party was casual. No ties for the men, but sport coats were expected. The women all looked like a million bucks; hell, they always did.

Janine arrived a little after I did and she was flat gorgeous. Short black dress, a string of pearls, her long hair let down and fluffed out. The kicker was that she also looked to be wearing five-inch CFMs. Oh yeah, she looked good, and she looked tall. Quite apart from that, it was going to be more than tough trying to talk to her, and that on two accounts. One, the other men were likely going to be hanging around her: either kissing ass, or trying to get a piece of it. I knew of a couple of guys who had launched campaigns to achieve that very goal. No one yet knew of my relationship to her except Allison and Parker, and they weren't here. And two, she was so pretty she was intimidating-read it was going to be tough for any guy to focus on a topic when a woman looked like that, let alone be able to sound intelligent in the attempt.

She saw me and looked surprised. It was the first party under the new regime I'd attended where the socializing thing was the main deal; I nodded a greeting to her. Okay, opening gambit.

She was led to a table reserved for her and some of the lesser department heads.

I was at the bar when the band struck up the first tune of the night. It was a jazz band, featuring the kind of music that a group of our tenure might most appreciate. The singer, a woman, was especially nice.

It was at this juncture that my resolve hit a snag. I remembered the last time I had asked my wife to dance. Her put down had crushed me. But now, in my mind, though I was certain that there would be no repeat of that; I was still a little skittish. But-she was wearing high heels? They were threatening, that's the only term I can use to describe how they made me feel.

I made a decision; my army training again. When outnumbered go for the head and kill it; in this case the head was my fear. I was going to be Alexander and Gaugamela, Caesar at Alesia. I might be outnumbered and outgunned, but I was not going to be beatable, not even. This was my night! Hell, Tom Cruise was shorter than me!

I watched as she danced with a couple of guys. They seemed to be enjoying her body a bit too much; they pressed theirs close enough into hers for sure. I suddenly realized that I was actually jealous. My resolve to brave the challenge was beginning to waver. I was saved at the last moment by the unlikeliest source: Janine.

I had just finished my second glass of liquid courage when she came up to our table. There were several of us seated near the far wall of the club. I was the only single. And, I had danced with the wives of some of my colleagues. Janine, as indicated, had been seated near the back with the other big shots.

"Can I have this dance, Mr. Griswold?" she said. I think I looked confused. The song had just started and it was a slow one.

"Uh-sure," I said. "I would be honored." She kicked off her heels and took my hand. I held her up.

"Miss Taylor, Please, wear your heels. Please," I said. She looked at me, turned, put her hand on my shoulder to steady herself, and slipped back into them.

Now it was my turn to lead. I led her out onto the dance floor and at first we danced kind of formally, far apart. But, she coaxed me in closer and placed her head on my shoulder; I think the difference in our heights was minimized by her move. We glided slowly around the floor saying little. The song ending, at first I wasn't sure how to proceed, but I recovered, "Care for a drink, Janine," I said. She smiled.

"Yes, that would be nice." She said.

"Let's go sit at the bar," I said. We did and I ordered.

"You remembered," she said, "I mean my favorite drink."

"I haven't forgotten much, woman. And besides, not too many women are partial sherry wine." She smiled at me.

"I've missed you, Marv. I really have," she said.

It was time to risk my heart. It felt right, the time felt right. I hoped I was right. "Me too," I said. "I should tell you that I was trying to get up the courage to ask you to dance when you took matters out of my hands."

"I wish I had known that, I would have waited a little longer," she said, and giggled. "I was really concerned that you would hand me a major put down, like I did to you back then. I actually kind of expected you to. But, I decided if that was going to be my punishment; well, I deserved it. So I came over."

"I'm glad you did. I haven't stopped thinking about you since you came in. You are very beautiful," I said. "Good enough to eat, actually." She gave me a quizzical look. "Yes, that's right; that's exactly what I meant, deal with it." I was reading her mind and she was reading mine and I was smiling.

She stood up, downed her glass of wine, and looked me right in the eyes. "I'm going to pee. There's a room at the end of the hall, just past the bathrooms. Meet me in there in five minutes.

Her meaning floored me. "Okay," I said. I don't think my voice cracked.

She disappeared into the back area where the comfort rooms were located, and I sat and finished my drink. I wandered toward the back a few minutes later. A guy was just emerging from the men's room as I came up, he tendered me half a smile and said, "Some things won't wait." I looked at him.

"Yeah, that's a fact," I said. I watched as he headed back into the club without a backward glance.

I saw the door at the end of the hall and headed for it. She was leaning against a small table on the far side of the room. "Bolt the door," she said. I did.

I came back to where she was standing, still by the little service table. Convenient, I thought, that is the table was convenient. I kissed her gently first, then, hard. Our tongues dueled for supremacy: I think mine won.

It was clear to me, that though we didn't have all night, she was making a statement that she was still my wife, and that I had the right to take her any time, and any place I chose. Of course, in this instance, she'd done the choosing. Helluva note. Still, in the state my cock was in, let alone my mind, I wasn't planning on complaining all that much.

I stood back a few inches, held her by the shoulders. She stood maybe five or six inches taller than me in her heels, but I spun her around and pushed down on her back forcing her to lay her torso on the table's surface. She yelped when I did it, but submitted in the end. She grasped the sides of the table tightly with her hands. I don't think she was afraid; she was just being a female. I got down on my knees behind her and lifted her skirt. I spent a moment gazing at her panty-clad womanly cleft and the slowly worked her panties down and off. She relaxed. I kissed and licked her exposed crack, her pussy, and her anus. She was taking short staccato breaths as I worshipped her.

I stood, dropped my pants and underpants and pressed my cock against her now soaking pussy. She groaned as I pushed my five inches plus into her.

"Do me, Marvin, do me nice," she said. I did. My in and out motion picked up speed after a few minutes and I could feel her squeeze me with the walls of her vagina. Soon I was hammering this woman, my "sometime" wife, with everything I had. I gasped, as I emptied myself inside of her, washing the walls of her innards with my sperm.

I leaned forward on her back and rested for what must have been a full minute.

Rising, I pulled up my pants making myself socially presentable once again. While I did so she had retrieved her panties and put them in her purse. I gave her a funny look. She smiled

"I'm going to give them to you later. Kind of a trophy for you for your conquest tonight," she said. It was my turn to smile.

"We better get back," I said. "People may be wondering what we are doing back here."

"I'm sure they are," she said. She stopped me at the door, just as I was about to throw the deadbolt.

"Marvin, at some point we need to talk, very seriously talk. I mean really," she said. I nodded. She had never been more right.

******

After our tryst of the night before, we did not immediately move in together nor did we plan on anything especially romantic nor really have any idea where we were headed, either of us. I think we both knew that we needed a little time to consider what happened, was happening. And, yes, we were due for a serious confab at some point. It was a few days later that she called; the call was from her office phone. I thought that significant.

"Hi, wanna get together for lunch?" she said. It was her business tone of voice as far as I could tell. There was only one possible answer.

"Sure, where?" I said.

"My office," she said, "I took the liberty of ordering something in. I hope that's all right. I could not have cared less. I was a little early, and I should have cared less: she was wearing very expensive power suit, and we were in a very controlled venue favorable to her. She was delivering a message.

She'd ordered in a medium pizza, vegetarian, extra mushrooms; we both used to like that one. We ate and got the small talk out of the way as we did. I was wiping my mouth off as she took her last swig of ice tea.

"The other night, Marvin… " she started.

"It was good," I said, "very good."

"Yes, yes, it was," she said. "but-whether it can lead to anything will depend on a couple of things."

"I was thinking the same thing," I said, a little nervously. "I just wonder if your couple of things are the same as my couple of things." She nodded.

"I think we may be on the same wave length, Marvin, and I hope that that is so," she said.

"Me too, Janine, me too," I said. The silence, temporary though it was, was deafening.

"Marvin, you and I-have both moved on. I've, well, I've moved up the corporate ladder, and well, I like what I do. I do it well too, if I may say so. And, you've certainly done better. I've seen the figures: rather impressive actually." she smiled.

"Thank you," I said. "I would like to say that I am proud of you, Janine. Really."

"Really?" she said. She seemed a little on the relieved side. I was beginning to get where she was coming from.

"Janine?"

"Yes?"

"I think I know where you're going. May I?" I said, indicating that I wanted to take the lead. She nodded her okay.

"Janine, I know you make several times the money I make. That's not a problem for me. My ego, for whatever it's worth, is not that delicate in those kinds of things. You are simply a lot smarter, and more business savvy than I am, and I am very willing to admit it. But… " I said.

"But?" she said.

"Janine, but when it comes to our personal lives, our social lives, our husband and wife relationship: I am not willing to share or play second fiddle: I'm just not. I must be the only love of your life, damn near the only man on your dance card-certainly the most desired by you. There is no negotiation on these points. If we were to get back together, I need to know that at dances and parties I will always be number one, have first refusal in everything we do and not the Geralds of the world nor those on the Curtis personnel "A" list, nor anybody else. No one can ever be allowed come before me or between us. That, dear girl, is the long and the short of it for me. Can you live with a setup like that, Janine?" I said.

She stared at me for the longest moment. "Yes, dear man, I can. But let me ask you. Can you live with a woman who is clearly the main breadwinner in the family, and with a woman who will make most of the important decisions when it comes to financial matters-with polite input from you of course-but in the end her decision? Can you do that, Marvin; can you live with that?" she said.

"Yes, I can. But, there is one more thing," I said.

"Yes?" she said.

I smiled, in matters sexual, I'm going to be making the major decisions-uh-with polite input from you of course," I said. "Can you live with that, Janine?"

"Marvin, I think we have a deal. Your place or mine," she said.

"It's noon?" I said. "I know the boss; she's kind of a stickler for production. Shouldn't we…"

"Marvin, I'm the boss. I'm declaring a sexual break for the two of us. So, your place or mine?" she said.

"Mine it's closer," I said.

******

Parker and Allison were witnesses at the renewal of our wedding vows. And we even made slight changes in the wording of our pledges to each other reflecting our new realties. That was seven years ago. I no obey her in general matters; and yes, I am asked for and allowed input when it's called for. In the bedroom-among other venues-my word is law. The arrangement is working for us.

-----------------------------

   Series:Elise and Harvey Barrios
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A couple, very mcuh in love, but utterly mismatched, try for years to get it together.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/66363/elise-and-harvey-barrios
Published:2010-11-13
Elise and I met at a college frat party during our senior year at State. She a Business major, me a Techie, we hit it off, and while the courtship wasn't exactly whirlwind, we did become a pretty hot item pretty quick. Two months after graduation we made it legal, and for the past sixteen years we've been as happy as could be: her, apparently, because she was getting what she wanted and needed, and me in my ignorance that she was getting what she wanted and needed; go figure.

Elise is pretty. Five-eight, 120, tawny locks, bright green eyes, and possessed of the best personality to ever come along the pike if I'm any judge. Me, I'm Harvey Barrios. To keep things parallel here: I'm five seven, a tight 160, brown hair-thinning but mostly still with me, kinda quiet, with a talent for techno stuff.

Elise is a sales agent for Standard Auto Parts, a chain of stores moving the kinds of things the young and the restless males in the population need to customize their cars and turn them into girl getters.

I'm a civilian contractor; I work for our city's police department. I help keep 'em online and connected to the world.

The two of us, Elise and I, do okay with our two incomes; we need 'em both to get on, but we don't worry too much about where our next meals are going to come from. We've no children; Elise as it turned out was barren. But, that has never been a problem for me, though I think it was for her in the early going. Nevertheless, we've adjusted, and things have been good, as I mentioned before. That is until now, this minute, since I caught her-them-some minutes ago.

******

I watched as donned his pants and loafers and gathered up the rest of his clothes before leisurely heading for the door. He sure was big. He clearly wasn't concerned at all about getting caught in the act. I'd heard her say his name just as I walked in on them-Harry.

Elise stared at me from across the room. She'd finally covered her nakedness with a towel. The towel was only slightly better than nothing as I watched cum trailing down her leg all the way to her knee. The silence was, as they say, deafening.

"Harv? I hope you're okay?" she said, finally. I met her gaze.

"Are you serious? Well, I'm not okay." I said. She seemed a little-exasperated, maybe with herself.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said. "I thought you'd be gone two more days on your business trip. You weren't supposed to see us. But, I guess that's the breaks."

"The breaks! Is that all you've got to say! Yeah, well I guess that's right huh. How long?" I said.

"What's the difference?"

"Just tell me Elise, how long have you been fucking around on me?" I said. I don't know if I expected the truth or not, but I figured I had to ask the question. The answer I got stopped me cold. I had no doubt, at least, that it was the truth.

"Harvey, I love you and only you. "But, to answer your question, for the last fourteen years. Not with him of course, but others. He was just a two night stand, pretty useless actually, an unreconstructed loser sexually; it'd take a lot of work to get him where he needs to be as a decent lover, but he is good looking and he does have a sizable penis," she said.

I could feel my face flush. I was near fainting: my blood pressure. I need-I need-water," I mumbled. Elise turned and headed for the kitchen. She didn't hurry; I thought that telling. Moments later, she returned with a glass of water and held it while I sipped.

"I've hurt you, but I suppose it was inevitable in the long run," she said.

"Harvey, we can get by this. Okay? My extracurricular sex never compromised my love for you, and none of it was ever with anyone we knew; I wouldn't do that to you.

"Harvey, I just needed more than-more than-well…"

"More than I could give you," I said, filling in the blanks for her. She looked away. She said nothing. "Well, I guess that says it all pretty good. Sixteen years and now it's over. All my love, all my commitment down the shitter." I was starting to tear up. And who the fuck wouldn't!

"No!" She said. Her vehemence startled me. "I'm committed to you too. All of my love is only for you. My blood pressure was beginning to subside some; I could actually feel it. "The sex, I mean with those others, was just to fill a need that I could not deny. Harvey, there is still an us if you want it.

"Actually, if you will give me a chance to explain, to convince you that what I have done is actually not a bad thing; well, we can be even better than before. I promise.

"I know I've hurt you, and maybe dented your ego pretty good; Hell, I know I have. But it is not by a long shot the end of us."

"Elise, you just said that I can't satisfy you. If that's true, and it had the ring of truth, how do you figure we can get by this? You want me to go without sex for the rest of my life, Elise? Is that what you expect? I mean if I can't satisfy you; then, why would you want to have sex with me at all," I said.

"Oh my goodness, Harvey Barrios, I have never denied you sex, and you know it. You can have me any time you want me. Any time! No restrictions," she said.

"No restrictions. You'd grant me mercy anytime I needed to get off. Is that it, Elise? Thanks ever so much." She realized her mistake, and her look showed it. She tried to regroup.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. It wouldn't be mercy sex, Harvey. Not at all. And you do satisfy me, just not in the same way those other men do. You fill a need in me that none of them can or ever could.

"Look, I'm trying to get this all confessed and out in the open, Harvey, and I'm screwing up my words," she said. "Bottom line is I will be taking care of you! I will do my duty."

"Your duty? I'm a duty to you! Okay, Elise, explain, convince me. Go for it," I said. "Tell me why I should be your willing cuckold."

I was sick to my stomach, but I wanted to get this done and over with. For my part, oddly, I still couldn't just up and tell her to get lost. In the end, I knew, that that was very likely what was going to happen, but I would listen to her. I loved her, that counted for a lot, and in the end outweighed even fourteen years of betrayal. Yes it did! She had, as she'd said, hurt me; but I was hoping against hope that she could convince me that we were still okay. That there was some way that I good get by that fourteen years of being stabbed in the back; I preayed that there might be a way.

"Harvey, as you no doubt noted, I have been screwing up my words something fierce tonight. It's late; we're both on edge and in a bad state. Would you allow me till morning to get my thoughts together?" she said. I nodded. I wanted to hear it all. And, since it was almost 11:00PM, I figured we could wait a few more hours.

"Thank you, Come on. Let's go to bed. I want to give you your first sloppy seconds," she said. The wan smile on her face was indecipherable. I stared at her like she was crazy.

"What," I said, exploding.

"Calm down, Harvey. Yes, sloppy seconds. You're gonna love 'em, and you're going to be getting them a lot. That I can promise you that." Now she laughed.

I thought she was kidding; I hoped she was kidding; hell, I don't know what I was hoping or thinking. It was all surreal. "Actually, Harvey, it's kind of part of how I am going to convince you in the morning to be what you said: a willing cuckold. You just have to trust me. Okay? As my cuckold, my knowing cuckold, you will be getting a lot of attention from me, more than ever before."

I was not quite in a trance but almost. She'd turned and was sashaying up the stairs, the towel covering her ass was not doing a very good job of covering. My cock, all almost four inches of it, was harder than a rock. I followed.

She was still wearing the towel when I turned the corner into our bedroom. Take your clothes off, Harvey. I did as she said. I stood naked in front of the woman, my wife, who had just a little time before been cuckolding me with another man. How had she phrased it, oh yes, with a "two-night stand." She pointed to me without saying anything and traced a path in the air to the bed.

I got on the bed and lay down on my back. She dropped the towel. God she was pretty, I thought. I needed her so bad. But I also felt sick and maybe even a little bitter too, and shaky. I knew I was about to get a mercy fuck, and it killed my ego. But, it did not kill the stiffness of my cock.

Positioning herself, she forced my legs apart with her knees and knelt between them. Taking my cock in her hand she stroked it a few times and smiled down at me. "You have a cute little dick, Harvey. I've always kinda liked it."

She lowered herself to me. She took my stiffness into her mouth and sucked on it. She sucked slowly torturing me with her mouth. I came in a gusher; she swallowed almost all of it.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she gave me that same wan smile once again. "Now for the second round, mister man," she said.

She began jacking me off and after a few strokes, she tickled my balls noting with satisfaction that she was getting the near dead to rise again. She plopped down beside me on her back.

"Fuck me, Harvey, and don't be gentle about it," she said. "Get your sloppy seconds, and certainly not the last of them. I'm telling you that up front, dear husband." Her words angered me, but not enough to prevent me from plunging into her for all I was worth.

I drilled her for a good five minutes before I came yet again. She didn't cum and, though I didn't realize it at that moment, it pretty much signaled the end of us: as a lover, I was no good to her. She was willing to do me because it was her duty, but the reality was I was next to useless to her in any real sense.

I rolled over beside her on the bed. My thoughts were a jumble of humiliation, satisfaction, and flat out lust for the woman beside me.

"Thoughts?" she said.

"None for the moment," I lied.

"Did you like it?" she said. "I mean the sloppy seconds."

"I tried not to think about it," I said. "No," I corrected. She frowned, but she wasn't done. She rolled on top of me and gave me the most sensual kiss I'd gotten from her in years.

"Tomorrow, I will make things right by you. I will be making damn sure that you are one happy cuckold, Harvey. I mean it, Harv. I really mean it," she said.

Sleep did come, and if the truth were to be known, it was for the most part untroubled.

******

In the morning, it was Sunday, I noticed that her side of the bed was empty. I got up, peed, and showered. After dressing I headed into the kitchen where I knew she'd be. She was, and she was boiling the water for the cream of wheat. I headed for the coffee maker and poured myself a cup of the elixir of life. God how I needed that first cup.

"How are you feeling?" she said, turning to me.

"Not sure," I looked at my watch. "I should know better in maybe half an hour. Kinda depends on what you tell me." She raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, I suppose that's true. Should we eat first?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

Breakfast over. Dishes cleaned up. Second cups of coffee poured. We stared at each other.

"Okay," I said, breaking the silence, "Talk to me." I had been able to recover some vestige of my formerly not inconsiderable ego during the night; and I was hoping a show of confidence on my part might get things going my way, at least a little bit.

She nodded, looking down at the table. She was clearly gathering herself for her sales pitch.

"When we married, you and I had never had sex, not the whole thing at any rate. We'd fooled around some in the drive-in. We kissed our lips sore in the front seat of your car. But we'd never done the dirty. At the time, I thought that that was because you were trying to show your respect for me, and I loved you for it.

"Then there was the wedding and the wedding night and I knew," she said. She paused.

"And you knew?" I said.

"And I knew why you hadn't tried to fuck me."

"Huh?" I said.

"Your dick, it was so small. I knew then that you were ashamed of the size of your cock. You were afraid to let me see, well, see it," she said. I stood up. I was angry, very angry.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"That was not it at all! You got that! Not it at all!" I was white with rage. "I did respect you. I didn't want you to think that I was like those other men that had taken advantage of you. You know like Kevin Rensler did," I said. I saw her face flush.

"You knew about Kevin?" she said.

"Yes, I did. I knew that he'd raped you, and that he'd gotten away with it. I knew, or thought that I knew, how traumatized by it you must have been. I was taking it easy. Time enough when we were married, I told myself. That, dear wife, is why I didn't fuck you before we tied the knot, not because of my nothing little cock. And, I'll say it again, dear wife, not because of my goddamned nothing little penis! Got that!"

"Oh my God!" she said. "I didn't know-I mean I didn't know that you knew. Oh my God!" She was clearly stopped dead in the water by my words.

"Look, Elise, I don't want to belabor this. It's clear to me that you don't think I'm-well-man enough for you. I mean clearly my cute little cock just hasn't got what it takes to make you happy. I think it would be best if we just divorced, hopefully amicably. I'll go my way, and you can go yours."

"No! I'm not done. Not man enough! Who the fuck ever said anything even remotely like that!" I was startled by her sudden anger.

"Okay, maybe I got it wrong back then," she said. "It sure as hell looks like maybe I did. I'm sorry about that. Oh my God-I am so damn sorry! Okay? Harvey, you said I had half an hour. I've only used up five minutes. Okay?"

"Okay," I said.

She was actually wringing her hands as she prepared to go on. "Harvey, what I'm going to say now may hurt you some, I guess. But, on the other side of the coin, some of it should make you feel kinda good, so maybe it'll be a wash in those respects.

"What it most definitely will be, Harv, is the unadorned truth. You deserve at least that much."

"Thank you. That's all I want. I mean the truth. If there is any chance for us, the truth is the only path to find it," I said. "The only path, Elise." Boy was I freakin' wrong.

"I know," she said. I spread my hands in a get on with it gesture.

"I guess I have to start with the bottom line and go from there," she paused, and looked at me with almost pleading eyes.

"Harvey, frankly your dinky dick is a big part of it. It really isn't enough for me. Nor would it be for most women." I could feel my eyes cloud over: so much for my vestigial ego.

"I can hardly feel you when you're inside of me. So, I guess, you were partly right last night when you said that I would be granting you mercy fucks when we did it together. I know I am hurting your pride saying that. But, I don't want for us to begin anew on any false basis."

"Yeah, well thanks one helluva lot," I sneered.

"Listen, Harvey, a fuck is a fuck, regardless of the kind. You get me whenever and wherever you want. We-I'll-be doing it for you. Not just to show you mercy either, but because you deserve it and you have rights, just as I have rights and needs," she said.

"And, I will always-always Harvey-be doing my level best to make it thrilling for you. Mercy fucks? Okay, so damn what if they are. Like I said, a fuck is a fuck. And, there will be those occasions, Harv, and yes believe it or not there have been some in the past, when you do get me off-thrill me if you get my drift. What we've got, Harvey, is love. As important as sex is, and it is important, it comes in a distant second to our love for each other."

My tears began rolling down my face. I could feel them. She still paid me little notice. It was like she was in her own little world desperately trying to find a way to sell her logic.

"All that said, Harvey, again, cock size is only a part of the picture. There are other things that a woman needs that you give me that none of the other men I've been with ever have. Add to those the fact that you are the most sensitive and loving person in the whole world. You, sir, are my knight in shining armor. I need you more than you ever needed me. Believe it," she said.

"Harvey, I intend, I need, to keep on seeing other men for sex. Or, more accurately their big dicks." I started to say something, but she held her hands up to stop me. "Please, Harv, this is important." I shut up and waited; I didn't trust my voice not to crack anyway.

"So, why should you stay with me. Harv, because, I will make it my business to include you. We will work out the details between us. Last night was the first act in that process," she said. I looked her askance.

"The sloppy seconds," she said. "It was a huge turn on for me to fuck you with another man's cum inside of me. And, even though you may not be quite ready to admit it, I think it was for you too. If nothing else, Harv, I know you."

"Fuck you!" I said. "You think-you want-you want me to me to be willing to routinely follow your friends into your pussy after you get it on with them? Is that it? Are you nuts, Elise?"

"You did it last night, Harv. And no, I'm not crazy. And watching your dick twitching while we talked about giving you your first sloppy load last night was the proof of the pudding, Harv. Go ahead deny it if you dare. Tell me you weren't turned on by the idea of following another man into me, Harvey. Go ahead, tell me.

"So much time lost, so much to make up for. I have no words," she said.

I sat there utterly stunned. She had no words? I had no words either. Include me. How? She'd already totally shredded my manhood.

"Okay, I dare. I deny it! Got it. Yes, I let you do me last night. Yes, I knew I was getting some other man's leavings. But, I was out of it, lost. I didn't really know what I was doing. Today, I do know, Elise.

"Elise you have already cut me so low I have to look up to see my goddamned footprints. I'm nothing in bed? Sloppy seconds in my future-I mean me willingly and gratefully accepting mercy fucks and sloppy seconds to make you feel better about destroying me? Never again!" I said. "Never again! Hell will freeze over before I accept your idea of togetherness.

"This is the deal, Elise. Okay, no sex for me anymore. At any rate, not until I am single again. I get it: I understand what I am to you now. It'll be tough on me, but I will just have to do without until I can afford to move out and get a divorce. I figure a few months, and I'll be able to do it. In the meantime we will cohabit, but as far as I'm concerned we're done, you and I, as a couple.

"Go out there and screw everything in sight if you want, but one thing Elise, not here in the house. Not ever. Not until I move out, not until then. You got it!" I said. "Grant me at least that smidgen of respect, please."

I was not being nice. Maybe I was nothing to her. Hell, it was obvious I was nothing to her, but I still had a little pride.

She nodded. "Okay, Harvey, I knew it was going to be tough for you to accept. I'll be patient; I owe you that. But, Harv, if you think over what I've been saying; well, I think you might want to reconsider. The door is open, and it will stay open forever, Harvey. You are my beloved even if it doesn't seem so at the moment. Please, give what I've said some thought." I didn't answer her, I just looked at her and went to the bathroom; that coffee could sure run through a guy.

The tears, too, seemed never to want to stop, and the toilet paper was there.

******

We settled into a quiet existence. She, for her part, opted for patience, as she'd promised, as her modus operandi. Me? For my part, I opted for a modus of grim determination. I knew she figured that my hormones would force the issue in her favor. She did not count on the degree of pain I was possessed of, and that mainly as a result of the hurt she'd heaped on me. Oh, she was aware of the hurt all right, but she saw it as her being truthful while at the same time offering me a viable and attractive alternative. Wrong didn't even begin to express her miscalculation.

******

Our problems, to be as euphemistical as one can be, had begun in January; it was now the end of November. We went to work; we ate together, mostly silently; she'd smile and periodically come on to me; and I'd demur, without rancor, but I'd demur.

She and I did talk some, but my knowing she was out fucking everything with a third leg made any intimate conversation by us a non-happening.

We never went anywhere together now, and that fact was about to pose a small problem. Since neither of us had any close family left, we'd always spent the holidays together or with a few close friends. Thanksgiving and Christmas were the biggees; now they were upon us; it promised to be a sad time at least for me. But in her case, I think she saw their approach as an opportunity.

"Harvey, could I ask you something. I know we are kinda just floating and not going anywhere right now, and I do hope that that will change," she said, giving me a mushy look. "Anyway, I mean would it be all right, you know, to have Thanksgiving Dinner together somewhere?"

Her request had come out of the blue and had caught me kinda flatfooted as one might say. "I guess," I said. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Anywhere but McDonald's," she laughed. I was forced to smile back at her. Okay, so she got a point in with that one.

"The Road House," I said. "Haven't had a good steak in a long time," I was not all that partial to Turkey, and what did I have to be thankful for anyway. She gave me a strange look but turned it into a winsome smile.

"Good," she said.

Thanksgiving was this coming Thursday; I made the reservations.

Some may ask, why, with my marriage cratering did I even want to be anywhere near the whore. I don't know if I can really give a coherent reason for that, but I guess that two words fit the bill as well as any: Love and Loneliness.

Yes, I was still in love with her, and yes I was lonely as hell-even with her still around and trying to make me, entice me, into doing her. God it was tough not to.

We arrived at the upscale dinner club at about 7:00PM. The band had yet to start up, though a couple of the members were busy setting up their equipment. The people in attendance were in varying stages of eating on this Holiday evening. Seated, we ordered and soon the wine was flowing and we each were on the brink of achieving a mellow mood. I don't know, it's something about wine, it seems to have more power to mellow out a person than does beer or the hard stuff.

"How was your steak, Harv?" said Elise. She was smiling, and it was kind of a wishful smile.

"Good, very good, it always is here," I said. "It kinda makes me miss the old days. I mean-never mind." I stopped before I ruined the mood. She nodded and didn't push it; she knew what I meant. She didn't want to ruin the mood either.

The band had started up and it wasn't so loud that we couldn't hear ourselves as is often the case with live bands. The first song was kinda romantic.

"Any chance you'd be willing to lead this old broad around the dance floor, husband mine?" she said. I hesitated. Eating was one thing, but dancing to a romantic song was entirely another. She noticed my reticence. "It's okay. No pressure." I felt like shit. I shouldn't have, but I did.

"Of course," I said, finally. "But you're not an old broad. You're the prettiest woman here. Every man in the place is probably jealous of me." She smiled broadly. I stood and offered her my hand. Tomorrow we'd be back in the trenches silently fighting it out, but tonight there was a truce.

I think I only stepped on her toes once or twice. A dancer I wasn't, but I was a tryer. We danced a few tunes, all slow, and then came the ChaCha. I actually knew the basic steps, but I knew I looked awful doing them. Elise on the other hand looked magnificent, female, sexy. I was definitely just a prop for her for the evening. Kinda reminded me of my role as her sex partner, not very good, but better than absolutely nothing at all. Dance over, we headed back to our table. I was perspiring pretty good, but I was not entirely ruined physically.

We'd just settled into our seats when a shadow loomed over my right shoulder.

"Hey Elise, decided to take dinky-dick out for a bite to eat," said the man.

"Harry! What in the hell are you doing here. My husband and I…"

"Yeah, I can see, you're having a bite to eat. I'm here with Janie. Thanksgiving and all that." A busty blond appeared behind his massive frame. Jesus the guy was big, maybe six-four by two-fifty.

I'd been silent. I decided to not be anymore. I stood up. The guy had a hundred pounds on me. But, well, what could he do to me that his words hadn't done worse.

"Nobody asked you here, Harry. Why don't you just run along and play with yourself," I said. I wasn't quite shaking in my boots.

"Nah, not yet. I was just gonna offer your wife an opportunity to join us at our table. We'd invite you, but three's company if you get my meaning-Dinky." He said. I had to. I took a swing at him.

To say that he mopped the floor up with me would be an understatement of heroic proportions. But, then, I really didn't have a lot of memory of the event after the first half-minute or so, so what do I know. I did hear a scream or two.

I couldn't have been out too long though. A paramedic revived me and pronounced me fit to go home if I had someone to drive me. Elise volunteered.

"He'll be spending the night in jail, honey, if that's any consolation," she said, as she drove. I sat back and did my best to not feel the pain. At least I hadn't wimped out, dinky dick had stuck up for himself.

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Whatever."

"Honey, I am so sorry that asshole did that to you. Why in the world did you swing at him. He's so big, Harv." She said.

"You're kidding right. And what would you have thought of me if I had just let him get away with humiliating me in public. You know, his dinky dick comments. I should ask you how he knew about the size of my dick, but that's kinda obvious isn't it. Oh, and yes, him inviting you to join him at his table for a threesome, I think he said.

"Tell me, Elise, would you have gone? Would you have joined him and that blond bombshell," I said.

"No! Of course not! You are my husband not that idiot," she said. "Trust me, he ain't never getting' into these pants again. You on the other hand… " she didn't finish the sentence. I suppose I was supposed to.

We did not have sex that night, nor the next, nor the next. We once again settled into our state of trench warfare, neither side giving nor gaining any ground. Good 'ole Harry, for the record, spent three days in jail as it happened. I knew that because of an overheard phone conversation between Elise and one of her woman friends. Evidently, mister macho man was peeved, since I had thrown the first punch, that he'd had to spend any time in the slam at all. But, I guess the judge after hearing the facts didn't agree. He got thirty days for a knocked down charge of being drunk and disorderly, all suspended but three days. I'd spent the same three days recuperating from my beating. At least I'd gotten better food.

I thought it interesting that Elise had enquired about the asshole, at least enough to find out what happened to him, how many days he spent in the slam. I didn't say anything; what would have been the point.

******

I'd saved and I'd calculated. I went without my bi weekly trips to my therapist, aka my bartender. I'd brought no new clothes and refused those, among other things, that my wife tried to ply me with, and she did try to ply me: I think my refusals hurt her feelings but so fucking what. After my beating by one of her two night stands, especially after that, I wanted nothing to do with her that wasn't either required by law or a matter of basic humanity; none of which included me accepting gifts from her, and certainly not offers of sex.

Over the course of almost year, as mentioned, it had taken that long to get myself to a place where I could comfortably get out and move on; I had gotten no less than half a hundred offers of mercy sex from Elise though she never again called them that. Indeed, she did her level best to make her offers as palatable to me as she could, but her words putting me down as a man wouldn't go away; she'd all but verbally castrated me; I could hardly get it up anymore, at least not like before.

Not for Elise, nor it seemed for any woman if it came to that. My humiliation was that total. In my renewed bitterness, it was easy for me to turn her down every time she tried to seduce me. I know she cried some too; I know she finally realized she had gone too far with her so called honesty. Water under the bridge? Fuck no, a raging fire in my stomach and a freezing cold in my heart.

And, she knew I was horny as hell: she'd caught me often enough almost desperately watching her, wishing I could do something to her with my cock, or at least get it up. At least she never again made an issue of cock again, the size of it; that at least was something.

She knew too that I would not have sex outside the bonds of marriage, and I even think she was hoping that I would take that route though she never said so outright. Hence, I guess, she felt compelled to offer me that which I would not ask for. Finally, her level of frustration at her failure to tempt me led to a confrontation that proved to be the catalyst for my finally leaving. The timing was right.

******

"Harvey, I know you're climbing the walls. Just stop this nonsense and take me. I mean it; do it now. Take me upstairs and do me good. You need it, I need it; we can help each other," she said.

"You don't want sex from me, Elise. You've said it. I believe it. And, so it's a non-happening with the situation we've got here. I've got that much pride in myself. I've said it a dozen times if I've said it once: I will not accept a mercy fuck from you or anybody else. Never-never-never!" I said, as vehemently as I ever said anything.

"Harvey, it wouldn't be a mercy fuck. It would be a makeup fuck if anything. I misspoke those months ago, and I apologize. You can satisfy me. You maybe need to work a little harder at it than some others, but you've satisfied me in the past; you can again. You just have to give yourself a chance, and me a chance. Please, Harvey!" she said.

"Why do you need me for sex, Elise? I know you've been doing other guys this past year. Hell, some weeks you're gone five nights in a row. Tell me, that those nights you were gone, you were at the library studying ways to save a marriage. No, don't tell me that; it would be a lie; there've been enough of those," I said.

"Okay, yes, I've had sex with some others. You could too, Harvey. We could make this a good thing instead of the bad thing that it is. Please, my good man. Please. Let's end this game and move on," she said.

Well, now that's the first thing you've said that I agree with. We do need to move on," I said. I could see her mood lighten; it wouldn't last.

"I will be moving out in the morning after you go to work. This is the end of us, Elise. You can have your big dicks and all that goes with them. Me-not." I headed up the stairs to the guest bedroom that I had been occupying for the past eleven and a half months It was mid-December. I thought I heard her crying during the night, but it was no use: she was a whore and she wanted to remain one. I couldn't live with that, not even.

******

When things go to hell, like marriages sometimes do, they really go to hell. My experience was just such. I'd had to finally make a break with the only one I had ever really loved in my entire life. Those who have been through it know what it's like, and they also know why it took me a year to get to the place where I could actually go through with the break up. And, now my life was shit. Was it worse shit than the shit I'd been living with for the past year? Who the hell new. I sure as hell had no fucking idea. Both were bad. Both were beyond my control. Helluva thing.

******

I called in sick-again. "Hold on for a minute, Harvey, Cap Dorsey wants to talk to you," said Karen, the boss' secretary.

"Sure," I said. I knew what he wanted. It was my fifth call-in-sick in the previous month and a half. It'd been some three months, now, since my breakup with my wife.

"Hello, Harvey?" said the bass voice of my long time boss and friend.

"Hi, boss. Not feeling too good today. I'm calling in sick," I said.

"Harvey, this is the last time. I know your breakup with Elise was a killer. I understand that. But, you have to get by it and get on with your life. Stop crying in your beer and get back to us. This is the last time, Harvey. No more sick outs, none." He hung up. I looked at the phone and slowly placed it back in its cradle.

I took stock of my situation. A good job, a broken heart, no one to come home to. One out of three didn't look too good to me. I determined to not be sick, even if I was sick, anymore.

The Hard Hat was a bar I'd discovered over the course of the last couple of months. It, or rather the people who worked there or frequented it, had kinda become my family. And like any family, its members had a tendency to not only empathize with a guy like me but very often to overdo it. The day after my discussion with Cap Dorsey, actually Captain Dorsey of our local police department, I was late again. I was also fired.

Wonderful, zero out of three is even worse than one out of three. I was pretty near rock bottom. But, I had skills. Somebody would have pity on me.

******

After our breakup, I cut myself completely off from Elise. She had the house, but she also had all of the bills attendant to it. I didn't send her a dime, and, she never asked for anything. I knew she had to be barely getting by, her auto parts sales job was a good one but not all that good. I smiled to myself; maybe she'd had to ask some of her many fuck buddies to help her; well, that was just too damn bad.

It should be noted that neither of us had so far filed for divorce, in my case because I couldn't afford it. As for her? Probably the same reason, I reasoned.

It did happen, that I'd had to move out of the little so-called apartment, that which I had been flopping in since being fired. Not, ironically, because I couldn't afford it; but because the owner wanted to remodel the building. Inconvenient, but not a big problem. I had luckily chosen something so cheap that I had actually been able to save a little money. That fact was able to cover me until I got my next job, at Radio Shack.

The job at RS was mindless and paid accordingly, but it filled the bill for me. The bad news was that RS Inc. had even less patience than had Cap Dorsey and the police department: I was fired again.

To make a really long story short, I spent the next three years moving from job to job staying just barely ahead of my creditors-of which thankfully there were but few. And, then, as luck would have it, I caught on with a job that actually made sense for someone with my skills and emotional baggage. Forty-one years old, I was, and I finally had a career worth bragging about.

I got a job at the Hard Hat as night cleanup guy and security guard. Basically my hours were midnight to eight in the morning: two hours more or less of cleanup, and the rest just touring the parking lot on the lookout for potential break-ins. The HH had had several attempted such and a couple of successful ones over time, and Mac Steiner, the owner, saw a use for a semi-derelict like me and let me stay in the back room and even paid me the princely sum of seventy-five good American dollars weekly; I was in hog heaven.

Hell, my new job fit my state of mind and my body. And, if my good fortune at finding a good job were not enough, Mr. Steiner even provided me with a set of three bran-clean uniforms and a guard's badge; man was I a lucky sonovabitch!

******

Finally, steadily employed, I wasn't completely bereft of good sense even if I was bereft of anything remotely resembling feelings of self-worth, that thanks to Elise's honest evaluation of my sexual skills. Now, every morning after work, I hit the park and jogged between five and six miles-mostly six. By the end of that first year at the Hard Hat, I was pickin' 'em up and puttin' 'em down at a pretty good clip. I could do the six in under ninety minutes every time. The even better news was that the exercise and the resultant conditioning not only kept me in pretty good physical shape but also allowed me to sleep through the six hours after getting back each morning without a problem. This last had not been the case for the three years previous to my finding my now steady employment.

My sex life? What sex life? My humiliation at the way my so-called wife had educated me as to my potential attraction to the opposite sex precluded me from asking any woman-I mean any woman-for a date, let alone sex. No, no sex life except for my almost nightly visit to the den of the five sisters: I had to keep my ball sack empty to keep from going nuts. Helluva life.

******

In the now four years since my exit from our marital home, I had not laid eyes on nor heard anything from or about Elise. I thought about her virtually all of the time, but they were just random nostalgic thoughts and wishful thinking-daydreaming. And, virtually every time I thought about her to any extent, I cried. What she had done to me, well my ego, was just too devastating to believe. I hated God for leaving me so bereft of manhood, and I cried about that too. Despair was my lot and it was ever present. But, even for a loser like me there is an occasional sliver of light penetrating the shadows of my conscious mind. Her name was Molly Cummings.

Molly was short, twenty pounds overweight, so I estimated, and possessed of a list of emotional baggage almost as long as mine. The difference was that she was dealing with it, whereas it, my emotional baggage, was dealing with me. We were made for each other-sort of. Well, we understood each other.

Almost every night we met up at the HH and commiserated over a glass of wine.

For the record, even with all of my problems, I was not drinking heavily. Oh, there were stil the occasional bad nights, had been especially so in the early days after my leaving Elise; but those days were behind me; I supposed that was a good thing.

Molly was soft spoken and a good listener. I returned the favor of course, that is I became a good listener too.

"So, what's the good news?" said Molly.

"Same as yesterday, Molly. No break-ins here, no raise in pay so my taxes will remain low, and no news of any consequence which for me translates into good news," I said. "You?"

"Also the same. No news from my runaway hubby, no improvement in my mental state, and oh yes, no raise for me on my job at the phone company. Helluva a pair we make," she said.

I tilted back the stem glass I had in front of me. "Yeah, helluva pair for sure," I said. "Maybe you and I should get married sometime."

"Hah! You're not even divorced," she said. I looked at her.

"Yeah, I guess that's right. I mean I'd know if my ex-or whatever she is-divorced me, right?" I said. "And, as I recall you're still married to your man."

"Yes and yes," she said.

"Well, we could move in together or something and commit mortal sins. You know, of lust." I said. "I mean we could hold each other's hand and cry on each other's shoulder."

"Yeah, and you'd soon be wanting to stick your dick into me and that would eventually come back to bite us in the ass because we're both still in love with our significant others even though they've dumped us to sow their wild oats in greener pastures," she said.

"Yours may have dumped you for greener pastures, but mine dumped me because of my pathetic dick," I said. She gave me a questioning look. "Four, well almost four, not very thick inches," I said. She smiled.

"So, that was it for you guys? Your ex is a size queen, is she?" said Molly.

"Yeah, I guess so. Or, maybe she just didn't like me. I mean would anyone want a dude like me?" I said. And, yes, I knew I was whining.

Molly laughed. "Don't sell yourself short bub-oh-no pun intended, really," she said. "Frankly, cock size does count, but it is by no means the deciding factor in a relationship. That said, and that also being demonstrably true, she probably did dump you for some other reason, and, probably more than one."

"You sure no how to hurt a guy," I said. "I can't win. If even you see me as a loser what have I got to live for besides television and internet porn sites?" She smirked.

"Get off that bar stool and stand over there," said Molly.

"Huh?" I said.

"Just do it," she said. She was watching me closely. I felt really stupid. I was also sporting a hardon that was very difficult to conceal even considering its small size. But, I did as she told me.

"What," I said, finally. "Whaddya want from me. I did what you told me." She just continued to stare.

"Okay, you can reoccupy your bar stool," she said. "Interesting."

"Interesting? What's interesting?"

"Several things. Wanna hear?" she said.

"Of course, I'm just dying of curiosity," I said, not quite sarcastically-or maybe sardonically was the right term.

"I'm kind of an expert when it comes to men and sex and all of it, Harvey. What I see in you is a fairly decent looking man, a man not without natural charm. A man too, whose dick is a major drawback if not a fatal one. A man who is something of a pussy… " I started to interrupt, but she put the kibosh on that with a look.

"Yes, a pussy, and pussywhipped pussy at that, Harvey. I'm willing to bet that you never put your foot down with Elise. Hence, she never truly respected you. A woman likes to think she controls things when it matters, but she also wants to be protected and guided in some things. The secret of understanding women, Harvey, is in understanding our female contradictions. You never got it at least that's my theory.

"I could tell just by the way you got off that stool when I told you to that what I'm saying is true. An alpha male would have laughed, maybe even pulled me off my stool along with him. Maybe even forcibly kissed me. Something like that anyway. But not you. You just did what you were told," she said. I think my face flushed red.

"You got all of that out my little exhibition of obedience?" I said.

"Yes. But, there's good news," said Molly.

"Yeah, right," I said.

"Really. A submissive man, and that's what you are if I'm any judge, can have a really hot life sexually with the right woman," she said.

"The right woman?"

"Yes, a woman who understands her man and cultivates him. Your wife seems not to have understood you, or if so, there were other things that turned her off to you. It may even be that she's a submissive herself, and it maybe was kind of a case of never the twain shall meet," she said-apologies to Rudyard.

I looked Molly in the eye and she didn't flinch. "No way," I said, finally. "I'm not a submissive, never have been. And, while I am willing to admit that I evidently sure didn't know my wife, I don't believe that she is either." Molly just spread her hands in an "oh well" Gesture.

*******

A few days after my sit down with Molly I had a shock. It was late, a little after twelve. The bar was still open, but not many stayers left for Jake, the barkeep for the midweek evening shift, to service. I was already starting on my cleanup duties. I had wiped down the tables by the wall and I was moving the mop bucket over to the same area to clean up the spills left there by a crowd of carousing college students earlier in the evening. The shock just alluded to came just as I began to wring the mop head for the cleanup There was a tug on my sleeve. I turned to see who it was that was interfering with progress.

"Harvey?" The voice caused my stomach to churn so suddenly and violently that I almost lost my lunch then and there. I stared at her for a long moment. She did not interrupt me. The man standing behind her, the black man standing behind her, was smiling; then, he spoke.

"This is Harvey? This is your husband? This is dinky dick?" said her companion. He broke out laughing.

"Shut the fuck up Darrell, just shut the fuck up!" said Elise.

"Harvey, you're so thin. What have you been doing to yourself? My God what are you doing with that mop? Harvey Barrios, what's going on," she said.

"Nuthin'. I'm fine. Wait here; I'll be back in a second," I said. I headed for the back before she or her date could say anything else. I left the building running. I ran fast; like I said, I was in good shape. It seemed like my ex-woman had not lost her talent for humiliating me.

******

"That was your ex," said Jake, when I returned at 2:00AM.

"Yeah, did she stay long? I hope you didn't tell her where I lived?" I said.

"No, no, I'm not that dumb. But for the record, she did ask."

"I don't wanna see her-ever again. She destroyed me, and it's taken me this long to get just part of the way back, Jake. I need to be left alone, at least by her," I said. He nodded.

******

"Darrell, you are some kind of asshole. Why did you have to say that stuff to him? He never did anything to you. Shit-shit-shit!" said Elise. "All I ever seem to do is hurt the guy. I try to be honest and I hurt him. I try to be concerned for him and I hurt him-or I bring someone along who hurts him. I can't fucking win!"

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I was out of line. I'm sorry okay? I apologize," said Darrell.

"Don't fucking apologize to me, butthead. Apologize to him!

"Wait, that's an idea. We go to him and apologize-I mean abjectly apologize. Even if he tells us to fuck off, we take our medicine and ask him in which direction he'd like us to fuck off in. Sincerely ask him," said Elise.

"What! Chase the guy down and humiliate ourselves so that he can save a little face? You've got to be kidding," said Darrell.

"Fuck no I'm not kidding. And we're not gonna be waitin' for fucking Easter to do it.

"I gotta call Sandy. She'll know how to handle it," said Elise. "Sure as hell she can't do any worse than me."

******

"Canby," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Sandy, it's me. I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you now.

"Your place or mine," said Sandra Canby.

The knock, though expected, startled her. "Get it, Darrell, will you please," said Elise. The man rose to do her bidding.

The two women faced each other. "Well," said Sandra. "You got me over here. Whatcha need?"

"I found him. Well, Darrell and I did," said Elise. "We were looking in the all the wrong places. He's not a computer whiz anymore; he's a janitor in a bar. Jesus, Sandy, I am so ashamed. I did this to him, and I don't know what I'm gonna do to make it right by him." The other woman's face took on a severe but empathetic aspect.

"Elise, I know you've wanted to try and make up with the man, but it's been too long. You've gotten on with your life and so has he. Opening old wounds is not the answer for either of you," said Sandy.

"Sandy, I have to try. No ifs, no ands, no buts: I have to try," said Elsie. "I need help here. You've got to help me Sandy-really."

Sandy sighed. "What bar?"

The face of Elise lit up. "Oh thank you, dear friend. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"Elise, save your appreciation until after we make the effort. And, I can tell you almost for certain that we're going to fail. Elise, You know me. I've been with so many men it's not funny. Hear me, I may be just a half way decent prostitute, but I know men.

"Elise, you tried for a year, after he caught you with Harry, and since then, you've never given up hope of maybe getting back with him at least on some level. But girl, I am here to tell you that your chances are damn near nil and none. Oh, and Harry called yesterday, said he wants to see you this weekend, you know, if you and Darrel are cool with it."

"Yeah, maybe. I'll call him back later. I have other fish to fry for the moment."

"Elise, telling a man that he cannot not only not satisfy you, but also no other woman is the kiss of death to a relationship; and you knew it or should have," said Sandy.

"I know, I know. I was just trying to be perfectly honest with him. He deserved honesty at the very least. But-evidently it was not the right thing for him, not from me," said Elise.

"Not from any woman," said Sandy. "But, tell me, just what do you want out of this. He's not going to stand for having other men around-certainly not his ebonyship. And as for Harry; well, enough said." Darrell had made himself scarce when Sandy'd arrived; he knew the drill.

"I'm not sure. I tried to get him to become part of what I-we-were doing, but it was way too late for that. So, I don't know."

"Well, if I'm any judge, he isn't going to be any easier to convince now than he was then. You willing to give up Darrell and Harry and the rest of your bevy of cocks to get your man back?" said Sandy. Elise clenched her fists and hardened her features.

"No. I can't. I know it and you know it-and-he knows it. But, I also know that if I can just get him to come to one or two of our get togethers that I can convince him to come home to me. To join us and be part of my life, as he should have been from the git-go," said Elise.

"You're living in a dream world, Elise, but, that said. I will try and help you. Initially, you have to stay out of it. I will do the leading and tempting of your man. You will only be called in during end game. Is that one-hundred percent clear, Elise?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Elise.

"You know, honey girl, that you should be doing it for money just like me. Darrell would understand, so would Harry, even if your hubby won't. I mean you're out there doing the neighborhood anyway…"

"No, it's the one thing I promised myself when I-well when I started. Fun yes, business no. Whatever small hope I have as to getting him back is based on that smidgen of ethic," said Elise.

******

I didn't quit my job at the Hard Hat, but I was never there until after midnight to start my shift now. I didn't want to chance meeting up with her again, her or her lovers. Once was enough.

A month after running out of the Hard Hat I found myself walking, just walking, not jogging. I had no place to go. Didn't want to just be sitting in my room at the bar and even less sitting in the bar itself. The fear that she would be looking for me was still very strong in my head. Ironic as hell, I thought, I feared seeing Elise; while at the same time I needed to see her, be with her. Talk about contradictions.

I saw the sign across the street. I'd jogged maybe a couple of miles. I wasn't tired, but I was bored. I saw the break in traffic and made for the opposite side.

The Challenge bar and Grill was in walking distance from the HH and I started spending my once-a-week's there. Molly joined me from time to time. She was great therapy for my muddled and befuddled brain. She'd been right about one thing; I did still love the woman who'd been with me for so long. I couldn't get her out of my head. Seeing her started me torturing myself again, and it was killing me.

The Bar was dimly lit. Tables lined the wall around the small dance floor. The bar girl signaled me from behind her polished barrier.

"What'll yuh have, cowboy," she said.

"A glass of dago-red, I guess," I said. She bought it to me, and I took a sip. As my eyes adjusted to the darkened interior I surveyed the place. It was then that my momentary peace of mind came to a crashing halt.

They were kissing and holding each other like two long lost lovers. He was the same guy she'd been with the month before: clearly not a two-night stand, not this guy. Yeah, Darrell, that was the name. She saw me five seconds after I spotted her. I swallowed and began heading for the exit-I didn't even wait to pay for the wine. I began running as soon as I hit the door.

Though almost 7:00PM it was still light outside. I should have seen the brightly painted yellow parking block, but I was looking back over my shoulder. Just as she came out the front door she spotted me. I took that miserable moment to trip. Not just trip mind you, but trip disastrously. My body twisted in an unnatural direction as my head bounced of the cool asphalt of the parking lot's surface. She was gone; everything was gone. Life was good, I thought, or, thought I thought.

I did hear something: maybe some guy calling for something; then, nothing.

******

"Darrell, call for help, fast!" screamed Elise. "He's hurt, maybe bad hurt." Darrell yanked his cell from his jacket pocket; he dialed 911.

The EMT's looked grim as they loaded their guest into the ambulance.

"Jesus, Darrell, what am I going to do. What am I going to do! This sure puts the period on the sentence I was tryin g to write, me and Sandy that is."

"I gotta go along with you on that one, Elise. But, it wasn't your fault. We've avoided his bar, the one he works at. Hell, I liked that bar, but we don't go there just so we won't add to his misery. It's almost like the gods are against you-or-with you," he said. He became thoughtful. He looked meaningfully at her.

"With me?" she said.

"What if some kind of crazy fate is actually throwing you two together, keeping each of you in the other's mind-heart. I know you don't love me, Elise; my cock yes, but the real me; we're just friends. Friends with benefits as they say. I know I've got you as long as you remain a sexual person. I know, that even if you get back with him you'll be fucking me or someone like me. You need it," he said.

"Darrell, sometimes you surprise me. I didn't know you were so intellectual," she said, and she smiled.

"There are a few things I'm okay at," he said. "I ain't stupid."

"No. No you're not," she said, seeing him differently than she had but moments before.

******

"He's in the hospital? What the fuck!" said Sandy.

"Yes, he fell down and hurt himself real bad, Sandy. Broken ankle and major head trauma, the doctor called it. He's got a fractured head!" said Elise. "I've been there every day with him, talking to him. I've taken leave at work just so I could be. He wakes up every now and then, seems to recognize me, and then drops off all over again."

"What did the doctor say?" said Sandy.

"He told me that he was going to live, but that there might be some long lasting effects of the blow to the head," said Elise.

"Like?" said Sandy.

"Memory loss, maybe not able to do some things on his own. The doctor just didn't seem very sure," said Elise. She broke into uncontrollable sobbing.

Sandy wrapped her friend in her arms and did what she could to comfort her. "Let's not worry about what might be until it is," said Sandy. "Okay?" Elise nodded into her shoulder.

*******

I woke up to unfamiliar surroundings. It didn't register at first, but almost as soon as my eyes fluttered, a white clad nurse was at my side.

"Well, hello, Mr. Barrios," she said. "We've been waiting for you to join us. It's been a little while. Just a moment, someone wants to see you." My eyes followed her as she exited form the room. I heard a squeal. A moment later my wife was at my side.

"My God, Harvey, you gave me such a scare," she said. I just stared at her. "Harvey, please say something-please!"

"Huh? What are you doing here? Where am I?" I said.

"Thank God!" she said. I wondered what I'd said to make her so happy. "Harvey you remember me!"

"Remember you? Of course I remember you. You and your lover. At the-at the-Challenge. Oh, I remember you all right," I said. She was crying. But, the tears were not of frustration or loss-they were-tears of joy. It began to dawn on me. They-whoever they were-expected me to not remember stuff. Jesus! What did I do to myself. This was one thing I couldn't blame on Elise. I was the jackass that wasn't looking where I was going. Jesus!

"Honey, you need rest. The nurse is going to shoo me out in a minute. I love you. And, please, you and I need to talk. I mean it, Harv. Really, we need to. I don't even know what I will be saying, but some way, somehow we gotta get some stuff said. Okay?" said Elise. I nodded, slowly, but I nodded, and I was not sure why.

******

"He saw you with Darrell. He knows you're a slut, and he knows you're not about to change. He will not believe you will do it so you can get back with him, him and his four-inch dick. No, Elise, you have to sell him on the idea that he is okay with it, and that you and he can make it work even with the Darrells of the world hanging around just outside your bedroom door, so to speak. In other words the truth. The truth, that is, without insulting or alluding to his sexual skills in any way whatsoever," said Sandy.

"There's no way," said Elise. "I tried the truth, the unadorned truth, and I destroyed him. I might as well just make my apologies-again-and walk away."

"Actually, there might be a way. The way he's been acting, I mean, what is it now, four years and more worth… " said Sandy.

"What are you talking about?" said Elise.

"Clearly, he still cares. He's actually afraid of you: you seeing what's in his heart and mind. He wants you to take him back, and he will do-if I'm any judge-almost anything to get you," said Sandy. "But, the conditions have to be right. He has to feel safe. His ego can't take anymore, not even a suggestion of anything negative."

"I wish that were true, I wish that that were all there was to it, Sandy, but I don't know. He really hates my ways if not me. He understands his inadequacy. He knows that if I fuck him that it's not because I want and need his dick. He's already told me that he is not into mercy fucks.

"I guess it's that he knows or at least believes that he can't please me or almost any woman, and he's ashamed of himself. And, yes, he knows it's not his fault, but also knows that there is nothing he can do about it," said Elise.

"There is only one answer if you intend to get him back," said Sandy.

"And that might be?" said Elise.

"You have to get him to know that there are things he can do that do satisfy you. That you do want and need and wait anxiously at home for him to get there to do them to you. You need to get him to get by the one thing he can't do anything about and to focus on the things-plural-that he can. And, one thing more, Elise, he has to learn to accept that you are a slut and-almost-like it," said Sandy.

"He has to learn how to get you hot and drive you wild with desire," said Sandy. "You're gonna have to be his trainer."

"Easy to say, hard to do," said Elise,

"You mean he has never turned you on?" asked Sandy.

"You'd be surprised," said Elise.

"Try me."

"A few things that I've done 'to him' have turned me on big time, but they were humiliating for him," said Elise. "But him, things he's done to me? Not really."

"Oh come on, girl, give, What did you do to him," said Sandy. Elise hemmed-and-hawed.

"Come on, Elise, this is no time to be shy."

"Well, there were a few times when I peed on him in the shower; it was just silliness. And, sometimes after I'd had sex with a guy, I'd bring home a load of cum for him and make him lap it up. He never knew about those times of course," said Elise. "You know, actually, thinking about it, he really is a bit better at oral than most guys. I think he tries to make up for the size of his cock with his mouth."

"Interesting. Let me ask. When you peed on him, was he hard? Did he stay hard, or was he disgusted?" said Sandy. Elise looked at her friend.

"Well, yes, he stayed hard; but I think that that was because I was stark naked in front of him," said Elise. Elise stared questioningly at her friend's broad smile.

"I think we may have the guy," said Sandy. "If he was hard because of the humiliating circumstances of you peeing on him, he's a dead duck and you win. Trust me.

"When is he going to get out of the hospital?" said Sandy

******

I knew I'd told Elise that we would talk, but I was not ready to mambo out and away from the hospital's loving care and risk dueling with her in my weakened state. Still, that said, I was feeling a good bit better, and the hematoma to my brain had shrunk-the doctor's words-to the point that I was no longer in any serious danger.

My room at the Hard Hat was clean and my stuff was all there, just as I knew it would be. I slept in my first day back and followed doctor's orders to not push things too hard.

I had not figured-and I should have-on my wife's resolve to converse with me. Two days after getting back to work, I was sitting at a table in the Hard Hat. I was just relaxing in the waning moments of the late afternoon, a cup of hot tea in front of me. I was accosted by a slim and pretty blond who, as she stood there, assured me that I had nothing to fear from talking with her-the blond that is. Her name was Sandra Canby. She laughed as she took the seat across from me without being asked to.

"You can call me Sandy," said Sandy.

"Okay. What can I do for you ma'am, uh Sandy," I said. She smiled.

"Weeell, maybe it's more like what I can do for you," she said. I began to smell a rat.

"Look miss, I don't pay… " I started. She feigned a pained expression.

"You too good for me?" she said. Her features were now passive and patient.

"Hah!" I said. "More like you'd be too good for me." She looked me up and down.

"Not the answer I expected from a big strong fellow like you," she said. I wasn't big or especially strong, and I knew it; but I let her remarks, which I knew were not meant to be insulting, slide.

Yeah, well, my wife-used to be wife-assures me that I'm not man enough for any woman," I said. That stopped her, or so I imagined.

"Huh? Used to be wife? Man enough? What are you talking about, mister?" she said.

"Small dick, no skills, and no hope of ever getting either. The five sisters take care of me thank you very much. So take your prostitute's ass elsewhere. Okay!" I said. I was beginning to tear up again. Why had I unloaded on her? I didn't know. Frustration at my lack of hope I suppose. I really didn't know. But, at least I wasn't setting myself up for another crusher.

She sat back in her chair and stared at me. "Kinda down on yourself aren't you?" she said.

"Just up and travel, okay. I don't need the aggravation or the humiliation, so just leave me alone," I said.

"Wow! You are down on yourself. I would never have suspected it.

"You say your wife told you that you were hopeless? Hey, I've seen guys with little weenies lots of times. It ain't no biggee," she said.

"Maybe not for you; you're in business to please not to be pleased. But for a wife I just ain't got what it takes. And, I never have nor ever will pay for a piece of ass," I said. She studied me.

"This might be the challenge of a lifetime, and I may be some kind of sucker here-and I don't mean the cock sucking kind. But, I'm gonna take a chance.

"How long has it been for you?" she said.

"Over five years," I said.

"Sweet Jesus! five years? Five years!

"You must be climbing the walls," she said. The look in her eyes was genuine sympathy; there was no doubt in my mind about that.

"Oh yeah, you're getting a freebie from me-now! Come on," she said.

"Huh? What? I don't… " I started.

"You don't have anything to say about it, mister. You're getting fucked today, so get used to the idea. I can't let it get out that the male population around here can be intimidated to not want sex," she said.

"I didn't say I didn't want it; I said I know that no woman would want me. My wife is kinda an expert in these things," I said.

"Unless she's a prostie like me, baby; she ain't no expert," said Sandy. "And besides, as an added bonus today, and today only, I am going to give you an unbiased analysis of your skills when we're done. How's that for a deal?" I looked at her and thought she had a point.

A prostie, as she referred to herself, would at least be more concerned with my feelings than my wife was; that was an actual fact.

"Okay then. Where?" I asked.

"Follow me, I have a pad nearby."

******

The pad, as she called it, was nearby, like two blocks away nearby. I wondered why I'd never seen her in the bar before. Didn't ladies of the night like bars?

Sandy was a very nice looking gal, I decided. If I could get a free lay, and maybe a little advice, I'd count it as time well spent.

The apartment was small, one bedroom, a comfort room, and what I can only describe as a combination kitchenette-dinette-livingroomette; I mean small, but it evidently served her purpose.

"I'll be right back. You make yourself comfortable," she said. I did so on the little love seat by the wall. The apartment was warm, but that had to be counted as lucky because, when she came back from the bedroom, she was naked. I stared.

"You look fantastic," I said. She smiled her gratitude at me.

"Come here big boy," she said. She crooked a figure at me beckoning me. I obeyed her. She let me kiss her. I made sure to be gentle; I did not want to ruin the mood. I made up my mind to do my level best to please her. I knew I didn't have much hope of measuring up-no pun intended-but, maybe I could please her in other ways. That was my goal.

Her arms around my neck, she melded her body to my still clothed one. She pushed me a back a little.

"Take your clothes off, okay," she said. I nodded and began to mechanically undress myself. I hadn't been naked in front of a woman in five years: the one while I stayed with Elise even after discovering her and that Harry guy, and the four years since; I felt a little shy around this very experienced-so I imagined-pro. Stupid to say it, but that was the word.

I was hard as a rock. My almost masculine weapon did not look to threatening to her, that I was sure of.

Her hands dangled at her sides. She stood back a step and eyed it, my penis. "It is a little on the small side," she announced. "But, believe it or not, I've seen smaller. Now let's see if you know what to do with it, and, with a woman." I swallowed big. Nervous didn't even begin to describe me at that moment. I took her in my arms and kissed her, still gently, but with a deal of pent up passion. She ground herself into me, and I hardened yet more. I must have squeezed her with a little too much enthusiasm because she grimmaced.

"Careful, big guy, I'm not real fragile, but I can break," she said.

"Oh-I'm-I mean…"

"Calm down, let Sandy take the lead, okay. You'll be fine."

As we stood there she played with my cock and kinda smiled moving her head from side to side. I had the feeling that I was being evaluated.

"Get down on your knees, Harvey, please," she said. I immediately did as she told me. "Now, kiss me Harvey. Yes, like that. Right there. Now french-kiss me Harvey, there." She braced herself against my face as I licked and sucked on her pussy lips. I did my best to try and fuck her with my tongue; she came. And, I know it was real because of the juices she squirted on to my face.

A few minutes later she used a single finger to raise my gaze to hers. "Stand up, young man," she said. She guided me over to the love seat and had me sit on the edge. She knelt between my legs and once again played a little with my cock. Leaning forward, she took the whole of it into her mouth. As she did, I felt her insinuate a finger into my ass. I felt her brush against my prostate. It was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced. I came in gobs; she swallowed a good deal of it.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she tendered me a serious look. "Well, you tasted good," she said. "My turn on the couch." She pulled me off and knelt on it with her butt pushed back toward me. "Get your face in there, mister, and do me good with that tongue of yours. And, don't neglect my anus," she said.

"I'd never licked a woman's butt before, but I didn't hesitate. I was so horny that I was actually almost hard again after but minutes since having cum in her mouth. I ministered to her holes for some time before I got my next command. "Now push that little cock of yours into me and fuck me, Harvey. Give me the best you've got." I tried. Oh God, how I tried. I only hoped that I had had some measure of success in pleasing her.

It took but a few minutes to get to the point of pumping my second load into her, this time into her pussy. I strained to hold back as long as I could before spurting. She felt me shrinking and looked rearward at me; I felt like I was being judged. She sighed.

Coming down from the couch." She pulled me to the floor with her. We made out for some little time. Then, rolling to the side and propping herself up on an elbow, she looked at me critically.

I didn't want to leave, but I wondered how much she was going to let me do, since she was doing me gratis. I soon got the answer to my question.

"You're not done yet, young man," she said. "But, the next go 'round is in the bedroom." She stood and waited for me to do likewise. I wasn't sure that I had another shot in me, but she evidently had little doubt about that.

She laid herself face down on the bed and spread her legs wide. "The KY jelly is there," she said, nodding in the direction of the nightstand. "Use a lot of it on yourself and then push a bunch inside my butt. Don't be stingy with it. You may be small, but a butt needs a lot of care regardless of the size of the cock that you guys shove into it. Okay."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never butt fucked a woman before not even my wife. I was intrigued. I Plied her with a huge amount of the slick goo.

As I pushed into her, she grunted. All in, I began to fuck her. She got into it after a short time and started ramming back at me each time I slammed into her. It was fully ten minutes before I unloaded inside of her. I almost passed out from the thrill of it; yes, the thrill of it. Finally sated, I rolled off and waited for the angels in heaven to come and retrieve my certainly about to expire body.

We were asleep in minutes. The smell of coffee woke me. I found her in the combo room.

"Sleep good, mister?" she said.

"Apparently," I said, "I don't remember any of it."

She motioned me to sit down. I did. "Was it okay for you?" she said. "I mean doing a whore?" I stared at her and gathered myself to answer her objectively.

She poured the coffees and brought them to the table. She sat across from me, her robe falling open, exposing her breasts.

"It was fucking wonderful," I said. "You? Tell me truly, please. I can take it."

"Hmm. You can, can you," she said. "Okay, then, here it is.

"You were okay. Not wonderful, but okay. I got off when you ate me at the start. I think you know that, but not from you fucking me.

"You're dick reminds me of the little engine that could. Honestly, it felt good inside of me, and yes, I could feel you in spite of what you may think. I especially liked you in my ass. You didn't hurt me like some men with larger cocks. It was actually quite-stimulating.

"Overall, you have possibilities. You need to learn a few things, and, it will take a woman to teach them to you. But, it is more than possible for you to be a decent lover given that you do learn.

"At any rate that is my truthful analysis of your performance. Your wife is probably not going to ever be satisfied with the size of your dick, but that does not mean that it is impossible to satisfy her. Okay?"

"Sandy, thank you. I think I enjoyed you more than I have any woman in my whole life, not that I've had many, but…"

"I understand. We'll talk again," she said. "But, now it is time to eat."

******

"You fucked him! My husband! You screwed him! Some friend you are, Sandy," said Elise.

"He needed it, Elise. I mean he really needed to get off. I've never seen the like. Desperate is the word that comes to mind-and maybe hopeless. You absolutely destroyed that man. I'm just hoping he doesn't find out that it was a set up; I think he might end it all if he did," said Sandy. Elise looked at her friend and then let the tears come.

"Sweet fucking damn it! Why couldn't he understand what I meant. I love the guy; always will. I know he's lost to me now, but in my heart he will always have the first place.

"Men, I don't understand how they think or what they think is important; all I know is that whatever it is; it's wrong!" said Elise.

"I'm in the number one girl profession of all time, Elise, men are my game. No psychologist, unless she's been a prostitute, knows more about the subject than someone like me. And I'm here to tell you, Elise, that what men think, and what they feel is most important, is not the great mystery of life that you seem to think it is.

"Men are very fragile creatures if the truth be known. Men think that how and what we women think of them is the most important thing in the world. Wanna hurt 'em? All you have to do is sneer at them, or laugh at them-or-tell them they're worthless in the sack. Their egos are almost certainly lost forever if a woman lays any of the three on them," said Sandy. "And Elise, to some degree you hit Harvey with all three. We definitely have a chore ahead of us."

******

Talking to the prostie, got me to thinking about the miserable situation I was in-as if I hadn't almost every day as it was. Fucking her got me a deal of relief in the thinking about it too. God she'd been good. Maybe that was gonna be my path out of my years' long funk. Just do it with Sandy, or someone like her, and pay the money. Others have. Why not me, I thought. What was special about me-fucking nothing, as I have been more than assured by my sometime wife. I looked at my watch; my advisor was late.

"Hey, bud, whatcha got for me?' said Molly. "Hey, you're smiling. What's going on?"

"Well, last night was kind of a mark-the-calendar kind of night, if you get my drift," I said.

"Pussy! You got pussy last night. You did didn't you?" said Molly.

"Yes!" I said, a little too emphatically. "Well, I kinda did anyway."

"Kinda did? What's kinda did? Was your dick inside of a woman?" asked Molly.

"Well, yes, of course, but…"

"But?" said Molly.

"It was with a prostitute-a nice one though," I said.

"You paid for it? You paid for a prostitute?" said Molly. It was clear she was a little disappointed in me.

"No-no-no. She did it with me, and she is a prostitute; but, it was free," I said.

"Really? That's sounds-odd. Are you two an item? Is there more to this little happening?" said Molly.

"Well, no, and yes. We met here at the Hard Hat. She made me an offer, if you get my drift. I said no. Then, somehow, we got to talking. I told her about my situation; she felt sorry for me I guess. So I got a freebie. Molly, I have to tell you, I was grateful. I knew it was the very definition of a mercy fuck, or maybe a pity fuck would be closer to the right way to say it; but, I loved it and she didn't make me feel like a loser. Molly, I needed that; I mean I really needed that.

"As for us, she and I, being an item, no. I wouldn't say it was anything like the start of something like that. Maybe if I were to see her again; well, I just don't know. And, anyway, she was a pro doing a potential John a good deed. Would a woman with that much experience wanna saddle herself with a loser like me? I don't think so," I said.

"Was she even single?" said Molly. "How did she react when you two were naked together?"

"You mean when she saw my equipment, right? She was okay with it I guess; said she'd seen smaller. And, no, she's single. At least that's what she told me. Never been married." The look on Molly's face was one of doubt.

"Molly? Something wrong? Did I do wrong? I mean I really needed what she did for me… " I said.

"No-no. It's just-I've known some pros in my day. And on a rare occasion a few of them have given out a freebie or two. But, almost none of them would be sharing their innermost secrets and personal lives with a stranger they just met, and especially one with your kinda baggage. But, I guess there's always a first time," said Molly. I nodded.

"Anyway," said Molly, "you gonna go back to your state of depression or was your friendly local pro able to shake you out of it?" Her saying that to me made me realize that I didn't know what I was going to do. I had been in a semi-euphoric state for almost twenty-four hours. The question now was: now what?"

I looked at her. "I don't know?" It was Molly's turn to nod.

******

After my talk with Molly, I understood that I indeed did want to see Sandy again. But, I also realized that I had not gotten her phone number. I really was a loser, I thought. Any other man-and I do mean any other man-would have gotten that without the slightest doubt. I wanted to kick myself.

******

While my self-deprecation was more than justified and deserved, the good luck, as I saw it, that was about to manifest itself, was not.

For the first time in a long time I was early. I figured to have a beer or two before I began my shift.

I was sitting at the bar when she slid on to the stool beside me. "How are you doing, Harv," said a very pretty Sandy. "Haven't heard from you or seen you around."

I had to smile at that. "I had no way to get in touch with you," I said.

She smiled and placed her hand atop mine. "Yeah, I figured as much. As many things as we said to each other last we met, we spoke very little about our situations: jobs, contacts, anything like that," she said. "You're here tonight though. This your regular hangout?"

I was surprised. She didn't know. "Yes, and no," I said. I work here-midnight to eight in the morning-seven days a week," I said. Her look was neutral.

"Work here? What do you do at those hours?" she said.

"Janitor slash security guard," I said. "I've actually got a little room here in the back."

"Really?" Her look now was one of interest if not actual concern. "I remember when we were-done-after our evening together, that you'd mentioned something about being a computer expert or something. I naturally thought…"

"I am-was. After my breakup with my wife; well, I just couldn't seem to get it together. You know; we did talk about that, I remember that. Anyway, I wound up here. It suits me for now. Has for the last year plus," I said. She nodded and pushed a slip of paper over to me; it was her phone number.

I looked at it and up at her. "Does this mean what I hope it means," I said. "I mean, Sandy, I still don't pay for; well, you know." She laughed. "I mean, maybe in your case-I might…"

"No, for you there is never going to be any charge. Believe it or not, you did it for me. Your tenderness and attitude made me want to see you again." She paused. "On the flip side, Harvey, I don't want you to get the idea that I'm an easy lay: just a way to get your rocks off. Yes, I do it for money, but apart from that world, from business, I'm the same as any other woman."

I know my brows knitted. I didn't know what to say to that. So, I said the only thing that made any sense at that moment. "Okay, that's cool with me," I said. She saw what must have appeared a look of disappointment on my face as I spoke.

She laid her hand once again on mine. "Harvey, I am not saying you can't ever have me. It's just, well, you have to earn your way inside of me.

"The last time we were together I was your therapist. Next time, Harvey, I will be your date. I mean if something like that appeals to you. I know you've been hurt. And while I don't agree that you reacted wisely to your wife's words and actions, I do understand why you did what you did. I intend to be very gentle with you, mister. Anyway," she pointed to the slip of paper I was still holding in my hand, "that is a bona fide offer." I nodded.

"Okay, okay," I said very softly. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

"I have to go. I only dropped by to see if you might be around. I'm glad you were. Please, Harvey, call me," she said.

"You have to go?" I said. I wasn't quite whining.

She hesitated, tendered me a wan smile. "Yes, I do, Harvey. It's business; I mean, you know."

"Oh-oh, yes of course. That's fine. I'll call. I will," I said.

She was gone before I could react to her having been there, to any of it. A prostitute for a girlfriend. How was I going to get my head around that.

Elise was a gold plated whore, no question about that, but she was not a "screw for pay professional." How was I going to rationalize being the boyfriend, if that's indeed what I would be, of a fuck for hire slut?

******

"Was he there?" said Elise.

"Yes. And, I gave him my number. He'll call. He is still wrestling with his demons, but he'll call. He likes me," said Sandy.

Elise looked long and hard at her friend. "You did tell him that there'd be no more freebies, no more fucking you, right?"

"Yes and no. I told him that there was not going to be a fuck fest every time that we were together. That I didn't just spread for every boyfriend I had. I told him a man has to earn the right to screw me. Or, words to that effect," said Sandy.

"Was that the best you could do? I want him back, Sandy. I need him. He just doesn't understand my ways."

"Elise, you need to get a grip too. You're out there screwing the entire neighborhood. He's gone so long without any that he's practically a reborn virgin. You did that to him. I know you didn't mean to, but you did. He needs to get some of his self-confidence back.

"If our little plan to get you two back together is going to work, we've got to stick to it. He has to want to seek you out and start the process. He will never be at a place to do that if he doesn't have at least some degree of confidence in himself and in his worthiness as a man," said Sandy. Elise nodded.

"I suppose you're right. I don't know if I-we-are doing the right thing, Sandy, but I am determined to at least try to undo the damage that I've done to him if I possibly can. I may be a round heeled slut, but I am not a bad person.

"And, what I told Harv four anf five years ago is still true. He is the only man for me in every way but one. It's one of those things like, you know, when you invest yourself psychologically in someone, you just can't break the ties no matter what. That's me, and that's Harv. We are a pair him and me. I've just got to get him to know it," said Elise.

"Yes, you are a pair, Elise, yes you are."

******

During the next days, I met with Molly regularly. I needed advice and she was my advisor. If she weren't so tied up with wishful thinking about her husband; well, she would be one heckuva replacement for the woman that destroyed me. Molly actually liked me.

"Get yourself to the gym, Harv, and stick with it. Go to the one I go to. We could be gym mates," she said. "You're in decent shape with all of the jogging, but you need more."

"Me at the gym, Molly? What would be the point? I'm forty-two, not exactly over the hill, but it seems a little late to be competing with Arnold," I said.

"Hah? Compete with body beautiful? Hell no. Just get into fighting shape and learn a few things." I didn't realize it right then, but she'd meant exactly what she'd said and then some. "The one I go to also features dance lessons and self-improvement classes. It would do you good. Like I said, we could do it all together," she said.

"Me dance? The gym thing-well-you may have a point with the gym thing, but… " I said.

"Never mind, just do what I say. I need a dance partner and could use a male workout partner too. Okay?" she said.

"Molly, I don't know. It all sounds good, but-well-I ain't makin' much money. You know. I mean-well-I get by, but there's not much left at the end of the week."

"Well, pardon me for being obvious, but about how long is it going to be before you take care of that little matter. You can get a better job, Harv. You just have to make up your mind to do what you have to do to keep it," she said. "Talk to your favorite prostie about that. I'm sure she'll tell you the same thing that I'm telling you."

She was right. I was my own worst enemy. I needed to get it together. Maybe it was my night with Sandy. Maybe it was a combination of Molly and Sandy and just the passage of time: but it was high time I got my act together, as she was suggesting. I had to get myself a job, a real job.

"You're right, Molly. I'll start looking tomorrow." I knew just where I was going to start looking too. Maybe my hunt wouldn't be too long in the doing of it.

******

I met Molly in the parking lot, and we proceeded inside.

"Molly, I hope that the pace in there won't be too much for me; I'm not a teenager anymore. Aerobically, I guess I'm in okay shape, but the iron thing… " I said. She laughed.

"Harvey, you'll be fine. The pace will not be too much for you. Although later, as you get stronger and everything, you'll probably be pushing yourself to where I will be telling you to slow down a bit. At any rate that's been my experience."

We were no more than inside the door than we were met by a big man with a ready smile.

"Harv, this is Mike, the owner," said Molly. I liked the guy immediately. But, I did have a not so secret concern. Molly knew about it, but she had the class to say nothing and let me take care of it myself.

"Hi Mike," I said, I paused. "Mike, Molly has told me a lot about the place. But, I gotta tell yuh, as a dancer-well-I ain't never been much. Two left feet doesn't even begin to describe me: maybe two left feet with one of them having a twisted ankle," I said, trying to laugh but meaningfully so. Now Mike laughed.

"Never fear, Harv, you'll be fine. I can't tell you how many guys have come in here with two twisted ankles if you get my meaning.

"Molly says you're her friend, and any friend of Molly's is definitely a friend of mine."

After the greetings and the signing up, I was treated to the tour by the both of them.

I wasn't in the worst of shapes by a long shot though I was a little on the thin side anymore, maybe around 140, down some twenty pounds from my former max. That said, I hadn't been to any kind of gym, well, since high school, and this one: Mike's Gym and Health Spa, was a whole lot different than the one at Central High School. The only weights were one pound fist weights, kinda like dumbbells but too small to claim that title.

There were ropes to skip, bags to punch-or kick, and numerous benches and giant beach balls to do various kinds of exercises on, or so I supposed. A number of patrons-men and women-were working out as we toured.

The place had two giant rooms, and a third one, was a kind of dining hall meeting room combination. I wondered at the last of the three rooms because there didn't appear to be a kitchen to prepare food for potential diners.

I was a bit upset with Molly. She'd lied to me. Mike took a personal interest in me for my first workout and damn near killed me. So much for Molly's promise of not too great a pace for me in the early going: she'd totally lied about that. We'd be talking!

******

Before joining the gym, I'd called in a favor: one sort of owed to me, that in spite of my previous bad behavior. Captain Dorsey was initially reluctant, but he'd relented. I was dry, and he was experienced enough to see that; and, add that to the fact that I had, what appeared to him, a new interest in things feminine-I'd told him about Molly and Sandy; and again, add to that the further fact that he owed me kind of a big favor-one I had never collected on; well, all of it added together decided him. I got my old job back. They had replaced me early on, but the guy who'd done so, had recently contracted cancer and had just retired on medical disability. My timing, for once, was good.

"Harvey, You're work was always first rate when you were here. I just hope you're back to your old pre-Elise problems self. And, yes, I know I owed you for bailing me out that time when I screwed up and our systems were hacked.

"But Harvey…"

"Captain, I know. It won't happen again. I've put the worst of my pain behind me, mostly due to the women I told you about; and I am ready to be an effective employee of this department," I said. He nodded.

"Good. See you Monday, Harvey. And don't be late. I have to tell yuh, I'm gonna be a bit nervous. Okay?" he said.

"I won't be, Captain, depend on it."

******

"You saw him last night?" said Elise.

"Yes, we went out to dinner. And, before you ask, we made out some in the back seat of the car…"

"What! You said you weren't going to… " screamed Elise.

"Calm down. No. We didn't do the dirty. We just did a bunch of kissing and touchy feely. Clothes stayed on. Okay," said Sandy. Elise stared at her.

"He's mine, Sandy. Don't torpedo me, okay. Eventually, I want him back. I mean it, Sandy. If our friendship means anything to you…"

"Yes-yes, I know. But, I couldn't just not do anything with him. I mean he's fucked me. He knows I ain't no nun for goodness sakes!" said Sandy.

"Okay, I guess you're right. It's just, well, I'm a little jealous, I guess. I do love him so. He always made me feel safe and wanted and, well, kinda good. I don't know how to explain it," said Elise.

"Yes, he is a nice guy. And, I hope you do eventually get back together, if only to make my life simpler," said Sandy. "But, I reiterate, I doubt it's gonna be happenin' unless you can forget the train load of cocks you say he still has to contend with. That, dear girl, and pull off the impossible and rebuild his male ego."

Elise looked at her friend and sighed. "Yes, I know; I know all of it," she said.

******

At my first dance lesson, a private one with Molly, the instructor smiled when he saw my clumsy efforts. Jason Hill was gay, thirty pounds overweight, and one very accomplished dancer.

"I know, I know," I said. "It'd be easier to turn a donkey with shin-splints into a race horse than me into a ballroom dancer. But, Molly here…"

"You're gonna be fine Mr. Barrios," he said. "It's going to take a little time, but we'll get you to where you are darn good." His smile was disarming.

It did take a while. The good news was that, after some six months of thrice weekly lessons; and a fierce half hour of practice every night at home; and after an immoderate number of corrections from my mentor, Molly; I was actually getting good-not just okay, but good.

Still, it was a fact that the gym was more my cup of tea. I had been more than astute in noting from the gitgo that this wasn't just some muscle room. Mark Tilden, the everyman's primary coach in the gym annex, was an ex-lightweight contender, a pro contender. I was learning how to box. My hands, I discovered to my more than very surprised self, were flashing fast. Forty-two years old and finally becoming a real man-go figure. I woke up one day and realized that my confidence was almost to the point of making up for the total destruction of my ego by Elise. I wondered what she'd think of me now, well, if she knew. Helluva thing.

******

It was a big place, the dinner club, The Iverson Gardens. The IG boasted a ten piece dance band situated across from a semi-circle of four-person dinner tables that surrounded the largish dance floor. The IG wasn't exactly high class, but it felt like such to me. At any rate, Molly and I were about to test the waters in public, in a more or less big way, for the first time. We'd done a little dancing at a few sawdust joints, but nothing like this; here, ties and blazers were the norm.

I'd actually invited Sandy-with Molly's permission of course-to come along, but she'd declined, pleading prior planned business engagements. Her unavailability disappointed me; I wanted to show off a little; I was pretty damn good, that is Molly and I were.

The room was crowded. Even so, we were hardly more than seated before a pretty waitress asked us about drinks. It being a kind of special occasion for us, we opted for champagne.

We were among the first on the dance floor. We were so caught up in the music and the dance that we did not notice the pair of eyes trained on us from the far back of the hall.

We did well, Molly and I, and I made a note to make a habit of this kind of evening out. It beat the heck out of movies and television and that on a number of levels.

It was near midnight when I pulled us up in front of her apartment. I walked my very good and lovely friend to her door and kissed her. She looked askance at me.

"Dear heart, that was for giving me the most fun evening I've had in years-literally," I said.

She smiled at me, "Well, I'm more than glad it was so much fun for you mister because we will be doing it again." And she kissed me back. There was something in the way she kissed me, but I was afraid to dwell on it-let it be, I told myself.

On the ride back to my place I half wondered what it would be like to do more than trade spit with Molly. True we had agreed to an essentially platonic relationship in view of our complicated relationships with our spouses-more hers than mine-but I wondered nevertheless.

******

"You were there? You shadowed them?" said Sandy.

"Yes, I was there the whole time. He was with that Molly woman," said Elise.

"No need to worry about her," said Sandy, "the two of them have an agreement. According to Harvey, she's still madly in love with her errant husband."

"Maybe, but they sure looked to be having a lot of fun out there on tha dance floor."

"I'm sure they were. It's not illegal to have fun on a dance floor. I've had a little fun with him at the Hard Hat just doing a little impromptu trippin'. He is a pretty good dancer," said Sandy.

"Hmm, so you've said. But, he's a lot better than he used to be-a lot better than pretty good," said Elise. "He's almost good enough to make me forget Darrell's cock," she giggled, "for a little while anyway."

"Sandy, I think it's time we made our move. You up for it?" said Elise.

"Yeah, maybe. I think you may be right. I'll see if I can get him to take me out. I'll almost let him have me again, and then stop and remind him of what and who he really wants and needs.

"If he goes for it. If he'll talk to you with an open mind, well, it'll be all systems go as those astronaut fellows are always saying," said Sandy. "But, Elise, you have to be very careful with this man of yours. His ego cannot take anymore trashing, not even by accident."

"I know. I am very well aware of that now. But, it's been so long. He's been so long without-I mean except for the one time with you. He's got to be ready for me by now; I mean don't you think?" said Elise.

"If it were any other man, I'd say yes. But that man of yours is a very special case. I'll say it again, may very well have to rethink your ways and become a one man woman forever. Really, Elise, I'm thinkin' it's either gonna be that or you're going to have to forget him and hang with Darrell or someone like him instead." Her friend didn't respond, but she did nod.

******

"Well, if it isn't handsome," said Sandy. I was kinda startled to see her. It was Sunday night and I knew she usually took Sunday off of her busy schedule.

"Well, hello back atcha, girl. It's been a while. I thought maybe you'd gotten married or something," I said smiling the smile of the confident and almost happy. "Whatcha doin' here on a Sunday anyway."

"Nuthin' big, well, lookin' for you actually," she said. "You seem chipper for a guy eternally down in the dumps. Something new in your life that I'd be tickled to hear about?"

"Hmm, yes and no. Not a woman exactly, more a life change because of a woman-actually two women," I said.

"Two women. Sounds interesting. Do tell," she said.

"Well, you helped me, and I want you to know that. I shall always be grateful to you for that. You were the one that kinda broke the ice for me. Then, there's Molly, you know, the gal I told you about," I said.

"Yes, I remember. Is she the one for you now?" said Sandy. "Are you turning a corner?"

"No, no, but she's got me out and doing now. I think I told you; I've been going to the gym and taking dance lessons. Plus, I've got my old job back and I'm saving money. I still kinda sorta work here at the Hard Hat too. I still do the nightly cleanup which takes me a couple of hours, then I just hit the hay in the back. Mac doesn't pay me the seventy-five bucks anymore, but I got free rent and utilities for being a kind of passive security guard during the wee smalls. I mean, if someone breaks in, I'll know it and report it: I just have to press the silent alarm button next to my bed.

"Wow! You have made some changes. I think I remember a few months ago, you did mention that you'd been going to the gym, but dancing? I think you might have left that one out," she said, smiling like she was sure I had had an ulterior motive.

"Well, it's not something I'm real good at if you know what I mean," I said.

"You and I have danced a little before; I didn't think you were all that left footed," she said.

"You're being kind and we both know it, but I'm a bit better now than then," I said.

"Anyway, what can I get you. You do want to have a drink with me don't you?" I said.

"Bloody Mary, if that's okay," she said. I signaled to Jake.

Drinks downed, come-ons by her exploited, we made our way to what I assumed to be her new local lair.

"New office?" I said with a straight face. She smiled.

"No, it's my real home. You're not a customer, so you get to see the real me," she said. I raised my eyebrows at that. I wondered what the night was going to hold.

Inside, she told me to have a seat and she disappeared into the kitchen. She reappeared moments later handing me a Lite. "I'll be back in a few. Need to change," she said. I wondered why she had to change: she looked great in her skirt and blouse. Those along with her spikes really didn't need replacing in my view.

She was gone maybe five minutes. Back, make-up renewed, and wearing a lacy, lilac teddy all of my concerns and questions were cleared up and answered. Oh, and she still had her heels on.

"Fuck! You're beautiful," I said. She seemed to appreciate my appreciation.

"Well, thank you. I do clean up pretty good if I do say so myself."

We kissed gently and our hands roamed where they would. It was a nice beginning. She slowly stripped me and pushed me naked back onto the couch. She knelt between my legs, and just before she began to suck, she said the words that I shall likely never forget.

"God, Harvey, you might be a dinky-dick but you do have a cute one." My stone hard cock died in that instant. She gave me a questioning look.

"What did you say?" I said.

"Harvey?" she said.

"Only two others have ever called me dinky-dick to my face: both lovers of my wife. I could see the color drain from her face.

"Oh my," she said.

"You heard Elise call me that-behind my back-didn't you. That's evidently her favorite name for me. You know her don't you. This is some kind of weird-ass set up isn't it?" I said.

She stood and moved to the window across the room; the curtains were drawn, thank God, I didn't need any passersby seeing me just then, night time or not.

"Elise loves you. She wanted me to get you to the point where the two of you could talk it out and get back together. I was supposed to get on your good side and urge you to go to her.

"Harvey, it was all a good thing if not exactly an up front thing, if you know what I mean," said Sandy. "You really owe it to yourself to talk to her. We blew it, or, I did; but you should at least see her. It's been long enough and you clearly love her-her quirks and all."

"Quirks?" I said. "Her fucking everything in sight is a quirk? Interesting choice of words."

"For the record she's actually not fucking around like she used to. She has a boyfriend, actually kind of a good guy. Name's Darrell. He doesn't love her though, nor she him. They just hang together for sexual release and to pay the rent and such." That answered my question as to how Elise was getting on financially, but I'd figured it had to have been something like that.

"I really think that she's at a point where she could be a one man woman if given the chance," said Sandy.

I had been putting my clothes on as she spoke. I stood and looked at her: a good looking whore for sure. It might have been nice. "Goodbye, Sandy. Have a nice life." She didn't turn around as I exited her place.

******

Back in the dumps? No, well not like before. I was a whole new man thanks to Molly-and I'd have to say it-the Sandy I thought I knew. If she'd been devious, she'd also been helpful in getting me to think about living, really living, again. I owed her that.

And what was that she'd said at the end: that I owed it to myself to talk to my wife. Hah!, now there was a thought. Like we hadn't talked it out before! Well, yeah, but that was before the new me.

And what had Molly said: essentially that I should get my head out of my ass and do something one way or the other, words to that effect.

Was Sandy telling it straight when she'd said that Elise was no longer doing the mass of humanity? And, even if she weren't, did it mean anything in terms of how I should deal with her, Elise?

All of these thoughts were swirling around in my head as I sat sipping my wine.

"Hi big guy. Been a couple of days. You can't let your gym days slide, Harv," said Molly, as she slid onto a stool beside me.

"Oh, hi Molly. No, I won't. Just had a lot on my mind these past couple of days. I'll be going back tonight, I said. Plus, work's been kinda piling up. I'll be fine," I said.

"Uh-oh, sounds like you've got woman troubles again. Wanna tell?" she said.

I explained the whole schmear to her, and she nodded her understanding. "Your friend Sandy was right about one thing, Pardner, you are at the point where it might be a good idea to talk to your woman. I mean what can it hurt," she said. "Get it resolved once and for all." Her words decided me. But her next words more or less undecided me.

"There's something else I have to tell you about, it's about my husband, Millard," said Molly.

I was all ears. "Yes, of course. What?" I said expectantly. I was certain the idiot had decided that what he had had, was better than anything else he could get gallivanting around, and had come begging Molly to get back with him.

"He's filed for divorce. He showed up last night with his sweet young thing on his arm, believe it or not, and laid it on me," she said.

"Oh," I said. "Jesus, Molly, I am so sorry. I know you were hoping-well-hoping for a different outcome. Honey girl, no matter what else happens, I'm there for you. We're a team you and I," I said.

"Helluva note," I said, "the two of us sure have gotten a ton of stuff from our significant others. I can just imagine what's gonna happen once I talk to Elise. Jesus!"

I put my arm around my friend and comforted her as best I could. I asked her to spend the night at my place; she accepted. Neither of us had any intention of doing anything adventurous; it was just a case of a damsel in distress needing a knight errant to cling to and to protect her.

Molly and I hung out together for the next several days. She'd been there for me, now I was determined to be there for her.

******

It was the following Saturday, I was called in to work because of some glitch in the system. I had it under control in less than two hours. But I did hang around for a bit to run some final tests to make sure the system didn't go down again. Captain Dorsey caught up with me as I was about to head out.

"Got a minute, Harv," said the Captain.

"Uh, yeah, sure, Captain," I said.

"Let's go downstairs and get a cup if you're up for one," he said.

Seated, coffees in front of us, he leaned back and yawned. "Long week. How you doin' now you've been back a while, Harv?" he said.

"Good, Captain, good. No complaints," I said. He looked down seeming to find something interesting in the bottom of his cup.

"How's your love life, Harvey. I wouldn't ask, but I want you to be okay. I know you look okay, and your work has been up to your old standards; still, I know how a divorce can hurt a man-or a woman," he said. "I hated having to fire you that first time. I mean we were and are friends."

"Captain, I'm fine. A woman, actually a couple of women helped me get my head out of my ass. I'm fine now really," I said.

"Actually, there is another reason, I wanted to talk to you too," he said. "As it happens the same thing that happened to you has just happened to me."

"Jesus!" I said.

"Yes, Gloria dumped me. For some young stud, actually. I should have seen it coming, but-well-I didn't. I was served yesterday."

"Captain, I'm sorry. I know, believe me I know, how that can be for a guy." He nodded.

"Well, I don't know why I unloaded on you like this. I guess I just wanted to share with someone who knew the game," he said.

"Yeah, that's important. One of the women that helped me out is an prostitute; she knew how to talk to me and get me by the worst of it. A good woman, don't get me wrong. And, I have never had her-I mean paid for her. She and I were friends-sort of," I said. "I did have her, but as a kind of semi-girlfriend. I mean I had her for free."

"Hmm, I should be so lucky as to meet someone like that. But, prostitution is against the law…"

"You know, I might be able to set you up with her, captain. But, you'd have to promise to overlook her job description. You'd not be compromised the way I'd set it up," I said. "There'd be no offers of sex for money. She's just a good and well meaning friend."

"Harvey, I'm retiring at the end of the month. There'd be no problem with this woman, I mean if it were not a business proposition. I will not break the law," he said.

"Let me say wow, if that's all right!" I said. "I wish you all the best. And, uh-uh-I'll see if I can set you up. She really is a good woman, just a little too-uh-liberal, I guess one might say."

"Like I said, I'd be lucky to meet someone like that. Yeah, go ahead; see what you can do," he said. I nodded.

Next things next, I told myself. And the next thing was a meet up with Elise, maybe the final one-maybe not.

******

"What can I get you, miss?" said the waitress.

"Uh-I'm waiting for a friend," said Elise. The waitress looked at her, nodded, and then seemed to look beyond or behind her. Elise turned to see what the attraction was. "Harvey!"

"Yeah, it's me. Friend?" I said.

"Oh, just a figure of speech. I mean it's been so long and all. I didn't know how you thought of me…"

"Never mind, Elise, it's okay. So-here we are. Why, I'm not sure, but here we are," I said. She looked down. She was pretty; I knew that that would never change.

"Harvey, we're here-I'm here-to try and get us back together again."

"Hmm. And, your thoughts on that matter would be what?" I said.

"Well, since we've opposing views on how our marriage should go. I was thinking that we could-well-you know sit down, like now, and see if we could reach a compromise of sorts," she said.

"A compromise?" I said. "And how would I be compromising? You know I am not going to be some kind of second fiddle husband, Elise. I mean I am stuck in my ways about that. I need to be the only man in my woman's life.

"And, then there is the problem of my nothing dick. How are you going to be able to compromise on something that is obviously vitally important to you. Doesn't seem like we have much of a chance of compromising on anything of consequence here, Elise," I said.

"Weeeell, I have one suggestion that I'm hoping you might be willing to consider, Harvey. And this is not the same old thing. This is new, a new idea."

"Really. A new idea? Gonna change everything that's happened. You are a heck of an optimist, Elise. How do you figure you can get me to go along with you having boyfriends?" I said. She smiled. It was clear she thought she was going to be able to sell me on what she had in mind.

"Let's say, I promise to try and be a faithful one man woman."

"So far so good," I said. "But? There is a but, right, Elise?"

"But, if the time comes when I just can't-well-do without, I come to you for permission to let another man do me. That would keep the occasions that I do anything like that down, because you'd be controlling them, have veto power over any would be boy toys. How would that be?" she said. I stared at her for a long minute.

"Permission. My permission?" I said.

"Absolutely," she said. "You say no, and the guy ain't happenin'."

"Two things, Elise. I came here to see you, talk to you because two interesting women said that I should if only to get a degree of closure with you. And, as they said, to see if there was anything left for us. One of them it turns out you know-Sandy." She looked down.

"I did ask Sandy to help. She's an old friend, and she knew-knows-stuff: how to handle sticky relationships and such. I never intended for you to find out about her, but even if and though you did, the bottom line is I did it to save us," said Elise. "That has to count for something."

"It did and it does. Your motive in bringing Sandy into the mix was okay. And, although, initially, I was more than a little miffed when I figured it out, I don't hold it against you or her. Still, were meandering off the subject here.

"Problem number one, Elise, is the fact that you had Sandy sandbag me by fucking me, not talking to me. Because of that night with her I began to like her-a lot. I was feeling like a man again. Then, she slammed the door in my face, if you get my drift. That I did not like, and it showed me that you could not be trusted to change.

"Problem number two. What if I did accept your bizarre proposal. What assurance would I have that I actually would have veto power over your boy toys as you call them. I can see it now. You getting angry and trying to convince me that I was being unreasonable. To quote you, Elise: 'But, if the time comes when I can't-well-do without,' what then, Elise?" You gonna just back off and do without? I don't think so. You'll simply sneak around. You'll be careful, and maybe get away with it, but I'd know. Deep down, I'd know.

"What you are really proposing, Elise, is what you've proposed all along: that I let you have your cake and eat it too. Oh, you'd probably try to repair the damage you've done to my ego. Make damn sure I was never actually insulted or put down again. But, in the end, dinky-dick would still have to be satisfied with mercy fucks; they'd no doubt be mercy fucks with a smile, but still just mercy fucks, not something you'd have any difficulty doing without or care about in any meaningful way. No dice, Elise; I ain't buyin' what your sellin'," I said.

She started to tear up. "Elise, give it up. We can be friends, I guess; but more than that just isn't going to be happening. There is just no way, that I can conceive of, of you actually wanting me as a man, and that's what it would have taken for you to convince me. Have a nice life-really." I got up, threw money on the table, and left. I'd see Elise again, I knew, but the atmosphere would be totally different than it had ever been before; I knew it and now I think she knew it as well.

******

I suppose that deep down I knew all along that my feelings for my long time wife were on the decline and eventually would die. They finally had. The long time in the happening of it was a lesson to me. I blamed myself for not realizing that I really was fine, dinky-dick regardless. The stuff I'd learned talking to Molly, and ironically maybe even more talking to Sandy, had come home to me. I finally got it.

The upshot was that Molly and I were finally an item. An item and a happy one. We worked out together at the gym, we danced a lot, even entering a few contests; we never won but we came in in the top ten a couple of times; we were actually pretty good.

It was an occasion of our dancing, that finally put the seal on all that had happened to me before, and, as it turned out, to Molly as well. It was what I can only describe as a perfect storm of coincidences.

"Who was that?' I said, as she hung up her cell. She did not look amused.

"My soon to be ex, Mr. Millard Cummings. He wants to come over here and talk to me. Can you believe it?" she said.

"Hell no I can't believe it. This is a dance club. We're, you and I, on a date. We are here to be entertained and to have fun. Your ex! Your fucking ex wants to come here? Why?" I said, my tone rising. I looked around and tried to calm myself.

"He got the divorce proposal from my attorney, and apparently, he is not happy with it. Not only is he not happy with it, but he wants to negotiate with me right now. He says he's leaving on vacation in the AM and doesn't want it hanging over his head," said Molly.

"I thought you'd already settled on all of that with him," I said.

"I had, but my attorney added in a couple of things, I guess. I didn't really care, but he said I was entitled to reimbursement for past monthly mortgage payments-Millard's half-even though he hasn't been living there for a long time. I'd been making the payments without him, but…"

"But the law dog said you're entitled regardless. That about it?" I said.

"Yes, exactly. I knew you and I would be getting married as soon as the big Ds were final for the both of us, and I just wanted the cheating asshole out of my life.

"This is just the kind of shit he'd pull too. Figure to get me in a weak moment and maybe talk me into signing something or other. I'm betting a dollar he has a legal counter proposal with him when he arrives," she said.

"Why didn't you just tell him to fuck off?" I said.

"I don't know. His call was so bizarre. I just couldn't think fast enough, I guess."

"Yeah, well this is my date too; I'll take care of things when he gets here. Hell, he's lucky you haven't asked for a whole lot more than you have."

Thoughts relating to Millard Cummings suddenly took a back seat to another happening.

"Honey," said Molly. "The door." She was staring past me toward the hall's entrance. It was Elise and that Harry guy I'd first caught her with ages ago. I thought again how big the guy was. That he was with Elise was a bit of a surprise. I thought that she'd been hanging out with that other guy-Darrell-but apparently good 'ole mister two-night-stand had improved his standing. He saw me staring at him and smiled. He said something to Elise. Her head literally snapped around and pinned me. She didn't smile, but she did stare for the briefest of moments, turned back to her date, said something to him; and they moved off toward the far side of the hall.

For the next half hour I guess I glanced in Elise's direct more than half a dozen times. Each time I caught her looking straight at me. I wondered what she was thinking. Molly for her part was not paying any attention to them-pointedly so; I had to assume that she was not happy with them being there and, as she likely saw it, intruding on us; well, she was smarter than I was.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the dance contest, our annual Halloween dance contest is about to begin. May those of you who will be participating please take the floor and warm up," said the night's impresario. The band struck up a fox trot and Molly led me out onto the floor.

The floor was full. Everyone wanted a shot at the trophy and the $1,000 grand prize. The best Molly and I had done was a sixth at a local contest; this was bigger. But, we had been practicing.

I saw Elise with his largeness moving to the beat pretty good. Harry seemed a little stiff to me, but Elise was trying, and more or less succeeding, in making him look good. I would like to be able to say that they were blown out in the first round, but that was not the case; they were, however, blown out in the second round. Molly and I were still alive.

The contest went on for the next hour with a brief rest of five minutes as a prelude to semis-the top ten teams. When they announced the semi-finalists, Molly and I were thrilled to discover that we'd made it.

Ten minutes later they announced the finalists, the top five.

"We did good, Molly. If we don't make it at least we beat those guys," I said, nodding toward Elise and good 'ole Harry. She smiled back at me.

The announcer began naming the names in no particular order. "And the final couple to make the finals is the team of Cummings and Barrios," said the man. I was stunned. It was the best we'd ever done. I couldn't help it; I glanced over toward Elise and her boy toy. I smiled broadly. To her credit she didn't send me a dirty look; she just nodded; it made me feel good.

The final round was a series of three dances: the chacha, the swing, and the jitterbug. I was best at the chacha, and good enough at the swing; but the jitterbug, that was my weakest dance, worse even than my samba. The good news was that Molly was good at all three.

When the smoke cleared we'd taken fourth place. Good enough for a small trophy, but out of the money. Still it was the best we'd done; we both felt pretty good. Well, we did until about half an hour later when the big man and myself happened to bump into each other at the bar-literally.

"Look the fuck out where you're going asshole," said Harry, sneering at me. "Oh, and quit staring at my girlfriend. Go it?"

"Take some of your own advice," Harold, I said. "And, I was not staring at your girlfriend as you call her." I had been staring, a little, but I couldn't admit it to this oaf.

He grabbed the lapel of my blazer and pulled me up on my toes. Then, as if disgusted with himself for messing with fry as small as me, he shoved me away from him. I hit the bar's edge pretty hard. Hard enough to make me mad.

"Well, Harry, it seems we want to be a tad on the physical side. I have to tell you, Harry, you've definitely made me angry," I said.

He let loose a small laugh and followed it up with an attempt to backhand me. I blocked it and sent a half dozen jab into his left eye; all but the last one landed. He stumbled back barely regaining his footing. His eye was already beginning to puff up, and there was a cut over it that was beginning to bleed pretty good. Hate filled his features. Then, he made his big mistake: he charged me full out.

I side-stepped him and caught him with a left hook to his xiphoid; everything I had was in it. He seemed to freeze in mid-stride. I didn't. A right hook to his left kidney, also delivered with everything I had, dropped him. His face was turning blue; he was totally unable to even truly to take a breath. The combination of his rush and the timing of my hook had done him serious damage.

Elise came to the side of the man who had once trounced me. "Oh Harvey… " was all she could say. For a single moment I was the dragon slayer. The big man had fallen harder.

A couple of guys in rent-a-cop uniforms separated us. Somebody purporting to be doctor knelt over the now gasping form.

"He'll be all right," said the medico. "But, his night of frolic is over."

There were enough witnesses to guarantee that I had responded in self-defense. Molly led me, more or less forcefully, back to our table. For the moment no one came to bother us.

It was my turn to look past my woman, my Molly. "That's him there isn't it," I said to her. She turned around.

Millard Cummings was looked toward the fallen giant and then back at me several times in turn. He was carrying a folder of some kind. But, he didn't approach us. Instead he turned and left.

"That's strange," said Molly. "He wanted to meet with me, and now he's gone."

"Yeah, isn't it," I said, deadpanning.

******

In spite of the medico's pronouncement that good 'ole Harry was going to be okay, he spent the night at the local hospital as we found out later.

Molly and I spent the rest of the night doing a little more dancing with her smiling the smile of a woman with pride in her man. I was feelin' real good, real sassy.

A few days later, Elsie came knocking. Molly answered the door.

"Miss Cummings, and yes, I know your name. May I speak with Harvey, and you of course," she said. Molly nodded her inside and called me.

I came into the room and I know for a fact that my face fell. "Elise! What are you doing here. We've had our final conversation," I said.

"I won't stay long, Harv. I just wanted to apologize for the way my asshole boyfriend acted the other night. For the record it is going to be quite a while before he gets over the humiliation of being put down and out by a man so much smaller than he is-bodywise, Harvey, bodywise!" She was clearly anticipating my anger at the double meaning in her words. I just nodded.

"He spent the night in the hospital, and it was a couple of days before he could take a breath without undue pain," said Elsie. "You got him pretty good."

"Well, tell him that almost makes us even," I said. "You may recall the last time we rumbled he pretty much did the same to me." Her turn to nod.

"Harvey, Molly, I hope you and I can be friends. I know what I put you through. I guess it's just a matter of who or what I am. I need certain things and I am selfish about going after them. I hope you understand," she said. I could feel my face cloud up; this time she noticed.

"Oh, Harvey, please, I am not putting you down. I am here in my humblest heart. I needed you so bad, and now I've lost the most important thing in the world to me. Anyway, I wish you both the best, and once again let me apologize to you for everything, my good man."

At that point Molly took over the conversation with occasional polite input from me. Elise cried a little, and Molly comforted her. We all shared a bottle of Chardonnay; and then she was gone, Elise was gone, and a new chapter in my life, all our lives began.

Our town isn't that big; I'd be seeing Elise again. We would remain friends, but only that, and really not all very close friends when it came right down to it.

-----------------------------

   Series:Ellie and Harm
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Wife tries but can't help cheating, loses her family, and then falls on very hard times, or does she...
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/57028/ellie-and-harm
Published:2008-07-08
Chapter 1

I don't know why it never seems to occur to adults that their kids have eyes and ears and are generally pretty savvy when it comes to worldly concerns. The fact is kids are information sponges. They hear everything, see everything, and react to everything, and much of the time the adults, in their ignorance, don't realize it. This great truth is a mixed blessing if it's one at all. In my case it proved enlightening.

It was Ben Franklin who once wrote that two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead. Well, the same maxim can be applied to kids and especially to teenagers. They not only know everything that goes on around them, they cannot for long keep it to themselves. My daughter Annie is a teenager, a junior at Henderson High.

My name is Harm Carter: the Harm is for Harmon. I used to work in a steel mill before that gawd-damn outsourcing shit sent our jobs and our entire factory to Mexico. Still, I can't complain, I'm one of the few that actually prospered from of the layoffs. I finished college and eventually got a teaching job at Henderson High School where I have taught Language Arts for the past twenty years.

I was single, never married actually, when I lost my job, and twenty-seven years old; so I was able to survive a sight better than most of my compadres who had families. It was at Henderson that I met my future wife, Ellie Potts; she worked a few hours a week there as a volunteer school nurse borrowed from the Mayfield Clinic a few miles up the road.

Ellie always seemed "the unreachable star" to me. All of the male teachers, especially Brad Johnson, were on the prowl when it came to Ellie. Hence, I wasn't going to waste my time "tilting at windmills."

All of the above said, Ellie wasn't the gorgeous model of the year type; she was pleasant looking. She was five-four and maybe 115 pounds, with light brown hair, green eyes, and a sunny disposition that made people always want to be around her. Like I say, she never had any problem getting dates, and again that was the reason that I held off so long in asking her out; I figured that I simply wasn't in her class.

Me? I wasn't actually ugly, but my face was kinda messed up: the result of a 7.65 Taliban bullet that passed through my jaw knocking out half my teeth and leaving me scarred pretty good. The army put back most of the pieces and did a little plastic surgery on me, but there were limits. I was lucky though, a couple of inches higher and the slug sure as hell would have ended my problem with outsourcing.

Apart from my scarred up face, I was about five-seven, medium build, and thinning brown hair. In short, I was not gonna be doing any modeling for GENT. I was, however, in superior shape. I worked out every day and the Army, in point of fact, had been a piece of cake for me; I was hard as nails and grizzly bear tough.

My first date with Ellie was the result, of what I considered at the time, to have been a lucky set of circumstances. She had been working late at the school getting caught up on some paperwork. I was coaching a debate team, and so I was late getting out as well. My car was parked maybe fifty yards from hers. As I keyed the lock and started to get in I noticed her looking at her Honda and frowning. I went over to her.

"Ellie?"

"Hi Harmon," she said. "My car won't start."

"Want me to take a look?" I said, in my most 'knight in shining armour tone of voice.

"Would you? I'd sure appreciate it," she said.

Her battery was dead. I got my jumpers and got her engine going. "You owe me a dinner out," I said laughing. Where did that come from, I thought? I was ready for the inevitable polite decline or brush off.

"Friday night, okay?" she said.

"Huh?"

"Sevenish, okay. I'm staying at the Heywood Arms, number 603. I'm in the middle of changing my address," she offered.

"Uh-okay-thrilled actually," I said. She smiled at that.

I had recovered from my initial embarrassment-shock-confusion whatever and was trying my best to act confident and pleased. I guess I succeeded.

"Good," she said.

Our first of many dates was fun. We went dining, dancing, and ended the evening sitting on the sidewalk patio of a local bistro talking till the wee small hours.

It was some six months later that we were married in front of a justice of the peace in Amarillo Texas. It wasn't fancy, but it was easy and legal. That night was the first time we fucked. I was thirty; she was thirty-one; and she was a virgin!

I hadn't known she was a virgin until we were undressing for the consummation of the marriage.

"Harm, I think I should tell you; I'm a virgin," she said.

I stopped cold, as in a freeze frame photo. "Really," I said. I know it made me sound foolish, but that's because I felt foolish. "Uh-I think that's a good thing." I deadpanned.

She gave a tentative giggle. I broke out laughing. "This is going to be fun," I said.

She looked alarmed. "You aren't going to go too fast are you?" She was genuinely worried.

I immediately reassured her that I would be most guilty of the sin of sloth on this most important of nights.

******

Taking a virgin who is over thirty years old is both a treat and a challenge. Ellie had never sucked a cock, never had her pussy eaten, certainly never had her ass rimmed; she needed to be brought along slowly, and on this night slow was my middle name.

She actually came out of the bathroom showered and tentative. She was wearing a silvery, full length satin nightgown that hid everything but the tops of her breasts. The damn thing had to go, but slowly.

As disappointed as I was about her nightgown, I smiled and told her how beautiful she was. And she was that.

Being the military genius that I was, I dimmed the lights. The harsh glare was about as romantic as a yard sale.

She sat on the edge of the bed and I sat down beside her. I didn't tell her to relax. I didn't squeeze a tit. I didn't do anything that would worry her. I kissed her shoulder. I kissed it again. I very gently placed two of my fingers under her chin and slowly oh so slowly turned her to face me; she smiled. I kissed her lightly on the lips and then did it again.

In minutes we embraced. I could feel her relax and begin go to lose a part of the nervousness that she felt.

I smiled at her indulgently. I very slowly begin to peel the strap of her nightgown downward; I stopped. "Is it okay, dear?" She nodded. Asking her permission gave her confidence that I wasn't just going to destroy her maidenhood. Her tits were open to me. I wasn't sure, but I think she stuck them out just a little as if to tempt or dare me. She smiled at me now; I'm sure she felt that she was exhibiting what she thought was an expression of lust.

I kissed her again and gently laid her down on the silken sheets that the room afforded. I leaned in and kissed one breast then the other. I gave her a look that was a question. She nodded for me to continue. I suckled on a flawless breast that I knew had never been exposed to the rays of the sun.

I began to peel down her nightgown. At first she looked concerned, but then she relaxed. She was naked except for her panties. I placed my fingers in their waistband and began to slowly pull them down and off. Gawd! her pussy was beautiful. Her slit, only partly hidden by a sparse patch of pubic hair threatened to enslave me. I found myself gazing at it for some moments. I think she wondered if I liked the look of it; she seemed concerned, almost embarrassed. I said the right thing.

"Beautiful, absolutely beautiful," I said. I was so sincere that she giggled. "I kissed her there. Soon I was kissing her again and again and then licking and sucking her clit into my mouth; she tasted wonderful. She orgasmed: the first in her whole life more than likely. Certainly the first induced by a man.

I took an hour building up to taking her. As the supreme moment neared I could see she was nervous. I lay my hand gently on her cheek."It's time for you to become a complete woman," I said. I could see a single tear welling up in the corner of her eye.

"Do it," she said.

I reached for the jar of KY jelly. And spread it on and inside her vagina. I handed it to her. She started to put it on the nightstand, but I stopped her and shook my head no. She understood.

She dug out a large glob of it and spread it all over my raging hardon. I took the jar from her and put it on the nightstand.

Spreading her legs wide, I loomed above and lowered myself to poking distance. I pressed for entry and got partially in. She squealed. I decided not to be ultra slow at this point; it would only prolong her discomfort. I swished my cock around a little at her opening, paused and thrust. Her hymen broke and I could she that she felt a sharp sting.

I pressed for a deeper penetration and then I pulled halfway out. Soon I was screwing her rhythmically. She relaxed and seemed to enjoy the sensation. All of a sudden she looked at me strangely; she stiffened as her first true orgasm tore through her; she screamed.

"Oh my-oh my-oh my," she uttered. She began to choke on her tears. I pumped into her furiously and reached an orgasm of my own moments later. I collapsed on top of her.

Rolling off, I took her in my arms and loved her up. "It's your turn," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"You need to suck your husband's cock," I said softly.

She looked at me in horror.

"It's necessary, "I said. "Trust me."

"Okay," she said. She slithered down my body and then turned around and lay on top of me; I was looking directly into her freshly fucked pussy. She began to tentatively suck me off. I jerked and spasmed wildly as I neared another orgasm of my own. She pulled her mouth from me just as I spurted my cum all over her face and tits.

She lay in my arms for sometime before I was again ready to accommodate her. I had decided to do it all tonight if I could. I did not want to spend the next thirty or forty years with an inexperienced and tentative lover. Tonight was training night as well as fun night.

I laid her face down on the bed and propped a pillow under her midsection. I got behind her and spread her legs wide once again. She didn't object. Well, not until…

She felt me licking her anus. She popped up and looked around at me. "Harm!"

"Dear heart, relax please. Tonight you learn," I said. She seemed to accept that.

I licked and sucked at her anus for some minutes. I reached for the KY jelly. She looked around at me again; I could see that this time she really ready to stop me. But, to her credit, she decided to let me lead. I pushed the slick jelly into her rear door and spread a ton of it inside of her.

I pressed home my cock and after initial squealing and adjusting she took her screwing with less problem than I had anticipated. My cum washed her insides liberally. My cock shrank rapidly after that. I popped out and kissed her ass a dozen times assuring her of my love for her and my need for her charms.

We slept for hours. I awoke at first light and turned to see my wife still sound asleep and snoring lightly. Good, I thought, an untroubled sleep: a good way to start a marriage.

She was sore for a few days after our weeklong honeymoon, but she was definitely a whole woman, and I reveled in that fact.

******

Today was Ellie's birthday. Annie and I had set everything up. The cake was on the table, the ice cream too. Two presents, one from Annie and one from me, were wrapped and waiting for the woman of the house to arrive. She would be very surprised, at least we hoped she would be. We were excited. She'd be home in less than five minutes; she was rarely late unless she had told us so in advance; she had not.

Well, it turned out that this was one of the "rarely" times. A half hour after she should have arrived, she called. She'd been held over at the hospital. They were short handed. She had volunteered. I must have sounded a little down.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I'll be home as soon as I can, all right?"

I said all the right things. She said goodbye. And then I hung up.

She made it home about three hours later. It was a little after 9:00PM. Annie and I were still up and we put on a good face and gave her our presents. Ellie was genuinely upset with herself for being late. She was all over us for being thoughtful and loving and wonderful. But there was something wrong, and I couldn't put my finger on it. Had I been a better student of human nature, I would have recognized the telltale signs of guilt, and not the kind of guilt for having had to work late on her birthday.

It was only later that I found out that Annie had picked up on what I had missed.

Ellie loved the emerald earrings I had bought her, her birthday is in May, and the new bikini that Annie had gotten her was likewise well appreciated. For the next several days things were wonderful. Great sex for me and lots of quality time with Annie. They seemed the salad days of our family life.

Annie had asked for permission to go to the mall with Carol, her best friend. I'd given the permission, but had insisted that they be home before dark. It was Saturday, so the traffic would be light and Carol was a cautious driver, so no problem, I thought.

******

I mowed the lawn and then went inside to watch the ball game. It was almost 3:00PM. Suddenly the front door burst open and Annie came storming in crying. She headed upstairs to her room.

I followed her and had to push the door back as she pushed from the opposite direction trying to keep me out.

"Annie! What the heck is going on!" I cried, finally gaining entry.

"Dad, leave me alone," she said. "Just leave me alone."

"But Annie…"

We verbally tussled like that for a minute of two. Finally, I said, "Okay maybe you'd feel more comfortable talking to mom a little later… " She cut me off and pushed me out into the hallway.

"No!" she screamed, and I heard her locking her door.

Very strange, I thought: it had to be some boy; I was wrong.

Some six hours later Ellie's car pulled into the driveway. Annie had stayed in her room the whole day except for a couple of trips to the bathroom. I gave her space. I planned to try and talk to her the next day.

As soon as Ellie had shucked her coat, I told her about Annie's strange behavior. Ellie looked perplexed. Annie had asked to go to the mall after Ellie had already left for work; Ellie didn't know that Annie had indeed gone to the mall.

As soon as I mentioned where Annie had gone, and that she had come back early and how she had acted-crying her eyes out; Ellie went pale. Geezsus! two crazy women in the house at the same time, I thought.

"Harm, I'll talk to her in the morning. Sounds like girl trouble to me," said Ellie. "You go golfing or something. Okay?"

"Yeah-okay-I guess," I said, chickening out.

******

The following morning, I kissed my obviously nervous wife goodbye and headed for the driving range. I knew Cal would be there and probably Sammy, so I wouldn't be a lone eagle.

******

Ellie watched as her husband drove off. She steeled herself for what she was sure was going to be a very bad confrontation with her daughter-she had no idea.

She rapped softly on Annie's door.

"Go away!" came the reaction from the room beyond.

"Annie, it's me, mom."

"Get the fuck away from me bitch!" came the scream from inside.

Ellie went weak in the knees. Her worst fears were all but realized. She gathered her wits about her and made a decision. She'd already gotten the room keys from atop the frig. Now she slowly and, as quietly as she could, slipped the key into the lock and turned it. She pushed the door open wide.

Her daughter was huddled on the floor in the corner near the window. Her bed was still made. She looked terrible. She had been crying all night.

"Annie, what's goin' on? Why are you talking like that?" Ellie was still hoping it was something other than what she knew it must be.

"Are you fucking kidding me, you whore!" snarled Annie. She was now up and moving toward her mother.

"You saw us didn't you?" said Ellie.

"Oh yeah, momma dearest. I saw you. Carol saw you. Danielle saw you. Hugging and kissing and loving up that shitass Clyde Barrow. Did you know, Momma dearest, that your cheating ass squeeze was named after a gangster, a killer?"

"Huh?"

"Yeah, you know, Bonnie and Clyde. Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow."

"Uh-no-I didn't-I mean he's not my squeeze. Annie, we need to talk."

"We will mom, just as soon as dad throws you whoring ass out the door!"

Ellie lost it. She slapped her daughter and hard. "You will not talk to me that way," said Ellie.

Annie stumbled back a couple of steps from the impact.

"Annie, I'm so sorry," said Ellie. She knew she had crossed the line.

Annie held up her hands to stop her from talking. "Mommy dearest, do not raise your hand to me again. I bench 125 at the gym and I am one tough female of the species. I will react; I promise you."

Ellie nodded. Her eyes were tearing up. "Whaddya gonna do, Annie? Whaddya want me to do?"

Annie eyes were narrow. Her breathing shallow. She was going over the things in her head that she had been considering all night. Her rage gave her the look of a predator.

"First of all you're going to tell me everything. Give me all of the gory details. Then you're going to confess to dad as soon as he gets home."

Ellie shivered. "He'll divorce me, Annie. I know I deserve it, but do you really think it is the best thing, the best way?"

"You mean honesty? Are you asking me if honesty is the best way? Is that what you're asking me?" spit Annie.

Ellie could not look her daughter in the eyes. "I don't know, Annie. It was a mistake. Maybe if I do tell you all…"

"Start now, mommy dearest."

"Mr. Barrow, Clyde, and I met at that hospital picnic last year. You were there too and dad," said Ellie.

"I know. He's a car salesman in town; I know Carla, his daughter, we have classes together," said Annie.

Ellie looked surprised. "I didn't know that."

"I didn't know you were fucking her dad either, so I guess we're even," said Annie. "You are fucking him right?"

Ellie started to cry. "He asked me to lunch a couple of months ago. Your father and I were going through a rough patch. I guess I wanted to get even. I let him-I let Clyde take me to a motel. I know it's a cliché, but it's what happened. He got into my pants and we did it."

"You fucked him! Right? Say it!" said Annie.

"Yes," said Ellie. "I fucked him."

"How many times since then?" said Annie.

"Once a week. He likes me. Tells me how pretty I am. Treats me like a woman. I guess I thought I needed to be told those kinds of things," said Ellie. "Your dad…"

"Do you love him? The asshole?" interrupted Annie.

"Uh-no, I don't think so. He's pleasant, a diversion," said Ellie.

"You don't think so! Are you shittin' me! You've been in each other's pants for two months and you don't think so!" screamed Annie. "When do you think you might be sure?" Annie's sarcasm was palpable. "What is your definition of a slut, mommy dearest!"

"I'm sure. I mean I'm sure I don't love him," said Ellie. "I love your father. He's the only one I have ever loved."

"Wonderful," said Annie. "Just freakin' wonderful. What are going to do when dad finds out? Had you thought that far ahead? Were you thinking at all?"

"I don't know. I was weak. I gave in. I'm so sorry, Annie. I don't know what to do. I just don't know what to do. And, yes, I had thought about it. But, I was caught up in it. Clyde even implied that if I didn't keep spreading my legs for him that Harm-your daddy-would find out. I guess you can say he kinda blackmailed me. I'm not making excuses. I did it. I liked it at first. But, now I know it was all a horrible mistake. I'm guilty and I know I am going to be punished. I'll do whatever you say to do."

She fell to the floor sobbing uncontrollably.

Annie stood over her. She looked like Athena ready to strike dread into any who crossed her.

"It's not what I'm going to do, mommy dearest, it's what dad is going to do. You have not only fucked Mr. Asshole; you've fucked your family too! You do realize that, don't you mommy dearest," said Annie.

Annie began pacing. When she stopped she had softened some. "Mom, you have to confess to dad. No delays, no lies, no half truths. You have to tell him everything. If you want I will be there with you. Wait. You do still want to stay with dad; I mean from now on, right? I mean if he doesn't ship your slut ass the hell outta here."

"Gawd! yes, Annie. But, if I confess there is little chance of that. I mean of us staying together. He will for sure throw my worthless slut ass-as you so accurately term it- the hell out. I won't blame him either; but we will be done as a family. I am just so scared, Annie."

"I'll bet," said Annie. In contrast to her earlier angry outbursts, Annie joined her mom on the floor and comforted her. But she remained adamant in her resolve, "The truth mom. All of it."

"Okay," came a weak reply.

"One more thing mom, and it must be the truth. You understand?"

"Yes, sure," said Ellie, stilling sobbing.

"Have there been any others? Do not lie to me," said Annie.

Ellie sobbed even louder than before.

"I guess that answers my question," said Annie, paling at the news. "How many?"

"Two."

"Geezsus, dad is going to kill you-or himself. Fuck mom! You are a bigger asshole than the asshole you let bang you," said Annie.

Ellie Carter looked at her daughter, and through her sickness of soul, suddenly saw a very strong young woman that would one day dominate all around her; that, if she didn't already. She just nodded her acceptance of her daughter's assessment.

******

I returned from the driving range some three hours later. It had been good exercise. I was hoping against hope that I wasn't going to be involved in something really unpleasant when I got home. I had hoped in vain.

Ellie was sitting at the kitchen table when I walked in. She had a glass of water perched on the table in front of her.

"Harm, I need to talk to you," Ellie said evenly. That she didn't meet my gaze worried me.

"I've already spoken with Annie at length, and now the jig is up. I am so sorry, Harm," she said.

Annie stood with folded arms at the other end of the kitchen. Suddenly Ellie broke down and started crying like a baby.

I all but ran to her. "Honey, what's wrong!" I put my arms around her and held her tight.

"Harm-I-I cheated on you."

At first I was sure I hadn't heard her right. Then, I was sure. My legs betrayed me. I actually started to faint; I felt real funny. I finally was able to catch myself by grabbing hold of the kitchen counter. "Oh my," was all I was able to say.

Annie was suddenly beside me guiding me to a chair. I looked up at her. She was clearly very concerned. "It's all right daddy, just listen. We'll do what needs to be done afterwards. Okay?"

I think I nodded.

"Harm, I am so sorry. I am just a stinking whore and I deserve whatever punishment you see fit to hand me."

Nothing was clear to me. It was surreal in a way that I could not even begin to describe. My breathing was short and I felt faint again. That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up to an incredibly white light shinning in my eyes.

Ellie and Annie were standing on either side of the bed. "Honey, you've had a heart attack," I heard Ellie say, "and it is all my fault. Harm, I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but I can tell you that I will never, ever, forgive myself."

I slipped back into a safe and singular place once again.

I regained consciousness for good on the day after that first awakening; it happened late at night. Ellie was in a chair across from me. Annie was gone. I assumed home, or to her grandma's.

I watched my wife sleeping. It all started filtering back to me: the short-shanked conversation. Ellie had cheated on me. Why-why-why-why-why! My heart at that moment might not have been in danger, but my stomach was in awful shape. I vomited everything I'd consumed in the previous year, or so it seemed. I began to choke on my own spit and bile.

Ellie woke and a nurse came running. She pushed a button and I was soon surrounded by battalion of medical personnel.

Two days later, it became clear after some tests, questions, and astute observations by my doctor that both my mild heart and my stomach problems had been triggered by stress-surprise, surprise.

The following day I entertained a psychologist who gave me the short version of my prognosis. I'd be all right, but I needed to take it slow. Work things out one way or another with my wife and try to get my mind back on an even keel-all easier said than done I didn't say.

At home things were quiet and tense. I didn't need tense. Ellie and Annie took turns nursing me. I didn't have to lift a finger. Ellie had guilt written all over her, and I felt sorry for her. Annie shot angry glances at her mother periodically but did her best to not roil the pot.

The shrink had said to work things out with Ellie. What the hell did that mean! I decided to make the effort to talk to Ellie about things. I couldn't just sit and stew. I had to do something. But it was at that juncture that Annie got into the mix in a big way.

"Dad, can we talk, you and me," she said.

"Annie, this is between…"

"No, dad, it concerns the three of us, and I really do have a lot to say, and I need to say it," she said.

I was taken aback by her firmness.

"Okay, I guess you're right about it concerning all of us," I said.

She set her glass of water down on the TV tray next to me.

"Dad, mom is an idiot. She didn't even like those guys, especially not Barrow. I have been talking to her. Dad, I think she's compulsive. She just does things without thinking and then, when she realizes she done bad, she's too involved to just walk away. Mom simply cannot handle 'complicated.'"

"Honey, your mom is an adult. Adults have responsibilities. One of those; the biggest one, is to love and honor your family. You mother…"

"Dad, she does love us. I know you know that. As for the honor part-well-she did disrespect you, and for that matter me too. That one is going to be hard to get by, but as your daughter, I really hope you will listen to me and give her another shot with you, and by inference me."

"Honey, I want to, but I just don't know at this point," I said.

"Will you promise me that you'll think about it?"

"Yeah, I guess. You know you'd make a helluva salesperson," I said.

She smiled and retreated into the front room.

*****

The den had become my favorite hangout for the duration of the getting back to normal process. I could see out on the patio, and there was a TV and a computer in the room, so even though I was wheelchair ridden-as a precaution-I had a pretty good set up. I did get up and walk from time to time, slowly: to go to the bathroom, to get a drink if the women happened to both be out of the room. But, in the main, I just sat and thought; I knew that wasn't good.

I got up and walked slowly into the front room. I felt better, but that might be about to change, I knew, when I caught up with Ellie. She was folding clothes in the living room.

"Ellie?"

I saw her jump when I called her name: she hadn't seen me come in.

She nodded, "I know," she said in a voice almost too soft to hear. "It's time to talk."

"I feel better today. I need to hear it, I guess. I can't go on wondering what happened, what happened to us." I was glad that Annie was out for the moment.

"We've been married for twenty years, Harm, twenty very good years. You've been a wonderful husband, father, a faithful and beautiful lover. I, on the other hand, have been an ungrateful selfish shit."

I waited to feel faint or for my stomach to churn, but nothing happened. I was getting by my initial physical problems. I nodded for her to go on.

"As much a cliché as it is, it was only ever sex, or more accurately, the variety of another man doing me, Harm, I swear."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better, Ellie," I said.

"No, I just want you to know. I know I've hurt you. I will live with that in my heart for the rest of my life.

"There were three men over the course of our marriage, Harm. They were all short term, all just for the thrill of it, all less than memorable; and, if you will believe me, all in the past with absolutely zero chance of it ever happening again."

"Who?" I said.

"Jimmy Shanklin, Mario Cummings, and Clyde Barrow," she said.

I knew all of them, none of them well. I also knew the first two were divorced by their first wives, and I wondered if Ellie's liaisons with them had triggered the divorces. I thought it unlikely because I would have most likely heard something had such been the case. But once a cheater always a cheater as the saying goes; those guys probably messed around with more than one married woman and it had caught up with them. Clyde Barrow was about to join the parade.

"Why did you finally decide to tell me all of this?" I said.

"I didn't, not exactly. Annie happened to go to the mall with her friends that day last week; they saw us, me and Clyde. Annie made me tell you. I'm glad she did. The cheating was eating me up inside. That girl of ours is a wonder," said Ellie.

"She is that," I said.

"What are you going to do with me, Harm? Do I have a chance?"

I realized that I was short on answers to that question. I had not even considered doing anything. I just wanted to hear what was going on, or had gone on. Now I had, at least to some degree.

"I haven't gotten that far, Ellie. What do you think I should do?" I said.

That surprised her. "Me? Harm, I don't know. I know if it had been you cheating on me-but it wasn't was it."

"You made a good point, Ellie. Would you have kicked my ass out or given me a chance to make it up to you, to reform my ways?"

"Honestly? I don't know the answer to that. But, I hope that I would have given you another chance. I know that sounds self-serving."

It did sound self-serving, but I also happened to believe it. She had always been forgiving when she had been stepped on or offended in the past. Of course nothing that had ever happened to her was equal to what she had done to me. That said. She had helped hold the marriage of two of our best friends together when it had begun to fall apart for the same reasons.

Annie came into the room out of breath. She could see we had been talking. She frowned. "Should I stay?" she said.

I was on the verge of asking her to go to her room, but changed my mind. Annie, it seemed to me, had more of a head on her shoulders than either of her parents. "Yes, stay if you will, Annie. This involves you too.

"Your mom and I have been talking. There are a lot of issues. I would appreciate your input if you're willing," I said.

Annie nodded her assent.

I turned to Ellie. "Ellie why did you start doing these things to me," I said. I had phrased my words to get to get the most bang for my buck.

"Harm! I didn't do it to hurt you. You must believe me," said Ellie.

"But you knew it would hurt me. Didn't you?"

"I thought-I thought that you wouldn't find out," said Ellie.

"Really. You knew that I knew all of these men you've named. You never thought that one or another of them would slip up and let the cat out of the bag?" I said.

"It didn't occur to me, no," said Ellie.

"I see. I find it hard to believe that you never even considered it," I said.

"I knew it was possible, Harm, but I was very careful. I didn't want you to be hurt. I really didn't," pleaded Ellie.

"Careful, Ellie? You were messin' with the guy in the middle of the freakin' mall! What the hell, exactly, is your definition of careful?" I was not trying to be kind.

"Mom, you really are an idiot. How did you ever get through nursing school?"

I looked at my daughter. I thought it best to allow her to make her points; I was the one who'd asked her to stay.

Ellie just shook her head is despair.

"Good point, Ellie. You are not stupid. I think that you didn't worry about it because you were to full of yourself and thought you were too smart to ever get nailed," I said.

"Harm…"

I cut her off. "I think you thought I was just too dumb, too stupid, to catch on. Wasn't that more like it, Ellie?"

"Harm, no, I never thought you were stupid. I really didn't. I wasn't thinking at all. I had my head so far up my ass that I couldn't see daylight," she said. "I made horrible mistakes. But Harm-" She seemed to lose her train of thought.

"Yes?"

"I never ever stopped loving you. And-I never loved any of them."

"You say you did it for variety and for the thrill of it. What about me? I know I don't qualify as variety, but haven't I ever thrilled you? Don't I thrill you?"

"Oh my gawd yes, honey! It's just that you are always so busy, even on weekends. I need sex a lot. I guess that maybe is the main reason I cheated: to get more." She looked down. The tears were coming again.

That one stopped me. I sat in silence for a moment. I tried to think back to visualize how often I'd run off without considering her needs. I had to admit, she was right; I hadn't been the most attentive husband in the wide, wide world. That didn't give her any get out of jail free card, but I could at least accept the hypothesis that I might have done better as a husband.

"Tomorrow, I am going to start working out again, Ellie. I need to get my strength back. The doctor said it was okay to do it if I took it slow. I want you to join the gym with me," I said.

She looked at me strangely, like I was crazy. "Me? Harm, I'm no muscle builder or anything. I wouldn't know what to do at a gym," she said. Her face seemed to lighten considerably. "You mean…"

"No, you wouldn't, but I do; and, I will show you. I've been thinking a lot this past week. I can believe that I haven't been doing you right when it comes to our being intimate," I looked over at Annie.

"Annie you can go upstairs if you want, honey," I said.

"Like that's not going to happen," said Annie, digging in for the long haul.

"She has a right to be here," said Ellie. "She needs to know what is going to happen next, and how you are going to punish me.

"But, what you said, about going to the gym: does that mean you're keeping me around," she said hopefully.

I nodded. "I was going to say. That from now on I am going to be darn sure to keep up my end of this, of this marriage. We're going to be doing everything together. You'll go to the gym with me and stuff and I will drive you when you want to go to the mall."

"Does that mean you are forgiving me?" said Ellie.

"Ellie, I forgave you when I saw you sitting in the hospital watching over me these past days," I said.

She saw something in my demeanor that made her unsure of my meaning.

"But?" she said.

"Ellie, I forgive you, but it is going to be a long time before I trust you again. That's going to be a toughie. That will be your punishment, Ellie. You will know that I am likely to be suspicious of damn near everything you do.

"And, Ellie."

"Yes?"

"It goes without saying-right?"

"That you will throw my cheating ass out if I do it again. I understand. I wouldn't blame you one iota. And thank you, Harm. Thank you for giving me another chance."

"I guess we'll see, Ellie."

Chapter 2

Initially, after our making up and deciding to try again, I had thought to just let the matter drop. I thought that best for all of us, Me, Annie, and Ellie. But then I heard something. Clyde Barrow, was a frequenter of The Forecastle, the same bar I sometimes patronized.

He'd been bragging that he had been successful with several women and that all of them were begging him to not to abandon them to their wimp-assed husbands.

"Harm, you know that prick Barrow right?" said Elton, my favorite bartender.

This was some three weeks after Ellie had confessed. So, hearing the asshole's name made me a shudder. "Yeah, I know him, vaguely. He works at Champ's Auto Parts. I used to buy stuff there for my old pickup. Why do you ask?"

"He's been braggin' around here. Said he nailed your wife, among others. Just thought you oughta know he's messin' with Ellie's reputation, Harm," said Elton.

I was pissed. I had not intended to sink the asshole's ship, but that was then and this was now. The look on my face brought a reciprocal look from my friend. "Thanks, Elton, I'll take care of the bastard!"

That was Saturday. Ellie had had to work that day in EMR; they'd been shorthanded. When she got home it was around 5:00PM. I called her into the kitchen.

"Ellie, Have you seen Barrow in the past few weeks? I mean since we had our little meeting?" I said.

"No, Harm. I never want to see or speak to that shithead again ever," she said.

I believed her. "He's spreading rumors about you. Bragging that he nailed you," I said.

"Oh my gawd!" said Ellie.

"We're going after him. I want to ruin him," I said.

"But, Harm, that'll mean…"

"Yes, it'll be out in the open, but he's seeing to it that it is anyway. The bartender told me about it today," I said.

"Do you know his wife's name?" I said.

"Yes. It's Catherine," said Ellie.

"Do you know how to get hold of her without my having to do the research?" I said.

"Their phone number is listed," she said.

"Good," I said. "Call her and ask her to come here. Don't tell her what for. But, when she gets here, you're going to tell her everything. There's no getting around it Ellie. I want his ship sunk and fast and deep."

"Harm, I'm scared…"

"No need to be. He's doing you and all of us wrong and we're going to put a stop to it."

Before, earlier on, I had thought to kill the bastard, but then I thought, making a big stink about it, while more than satisfying, would only hurt us more than we already had been. But, now I realize that I had made a mistake in not tearing his ass up in the first place.

"Harm, what if she doesn't believe me" said Ellie.

"She will. Three different high school girls saw you with him; she'll believe you. The asshole is dead meat."

******

Catherine Barrow cried her eyes out on our sofa. She never went home that night; she stayed with us. The next day she went to her lawyer's and got the ball rolling.

Clyde was served with papers at his work and with a restraining order that same day; and then Catherine went home. Some weeks later, word was that she had taken the miserable shit to the cleaners. I breathed easier; I had been thinking of ruder ways to deal with him, but the results we had achieved seemed to me to have done the job. Not everything could be handled best with a baseball bat.

Destroying Clyde Barrow was satisfying if embarrassing for Ellie in some quarters; but, I thought, hell, it was the end of a miserable chapter in our lives. And it was, but it was also the calm before the storm.

******

For almost a year, after our "forgive and try again" conversation and the destruction of Clyde Barrow, things had been tentative between me and Ellie. But, I was beginning to relax. Things were almost back to normal. Annie, if I'd had to guess, was less trusting than I-no that's not right; perhaps more vigilant, and that because she loved her mother. She loved her mother, but she was afraid she might fall back into her old ways. Bottom line, she didn't really trust her, not yet. I, on the other hand, was pretty sure Ellie would not go back to her old ways. And, because of my confidence, I was less vigilant: this proved to be a huge mistake.

Each end of school year there was a parent appreciation day for parents of the year's P.E students. There were contests between sons and dads, moms and daughters, and kids against faculty all orchestrated by the P.E. department and as many volunteers as they could muster.

In past years these events had always been held at this or that hotel. But this year, due to funding constraints, it was going to be held at the school, in the gymnasium on Saturday the 22nd, a week hence. Ellie, who still put in volunteer time as a nurse had signed on to help out with the decorating committee. This put her in daily contact with the chair of the P.E. department, Marco Phillips.

Marco Phillips was the man in charge of the gym and all its sound equipment and sports gear; hence, he was always around always helpful-too helpful.

Marco, A big man, maybe six-five and two-sixty, was supposedly a lady's man. This in spite of the fact that he was was married with children, two girls and a boy, all school age. I knew him well and liked him not at all; I never liked braggarts, and he was a biggee in that respect.

He had his office in the gym between the two classrooms at the back of the building. The classrooms were for the Health Science courses that all students were required to take for graduation; these were run by the P.E. instructors. Marco Phillips ruled this domain with an iron hand. It was said, only half in jest, that the boys weren't even allowed to pee in the urinals because they would get them dirty, probably not true, but it illustrated the dictatorial nature of the man. The upshot of all of this meant that Marco had the keys to all of the rooms.

Unbeknownst to anyone at the time, he and Ellie were utilizing one of the rooms for private conferences, and that ever since Ellie had volunteered to be on the parent day committee. He was a charmer.

******

She was bent over the desk at the front of the room; the window curtains were drawn. The lights were out and the last light of day allowed only a miniscule amount of illumination to seep into the room.

He was naked behind her and ramming her mercilessly with his cock. "Ugh!" she cried as he jammed her lower torso repeatedly against the hardness of the desk.

"You love it, Ellie, you know you do," he said, sure of himself.

"You're killing me," she said. "Do you have to be so rough?"

Just then a tidal wave of orgasms engulfed her and she spasmed uncontrollably. He unloaded his seed inside of her and collapsed spent on top of her still bent over form.

He stood and pulled her up and to him. "Now, do your duty," he said.

She knelt in front of him and pulled his now semi-flaccid cock to her lips.

"Your husband can't do you like I can, can he, Ellie? You know you need this."

"Don't talk about him, okay. We've gone over this; he's off limits."

"Okay, okay. You can live in your fantasy world if you want. But old scarface doesn't deserve a quality chick like you," he said.

"Trust me, Marco, you've got a great cock and you know how to fuck me real good, but you will never be the man my husband is. You and I are just a couple pieces of shit compared to him."

"Oh my, you must be in love, honey child," he said laughing at her vehemence.

She was miffed. He wasn't following the rules. If he would just shut up and fuck, everything would be fine, she told herself. But the arrogant asshole just couldn't keep his mouth shut. She was beginning to grow tired of him, nine-inch cock or no.

******

I was slated to return home late Saturday the 14th from an NCTE conference in Indianapolis. Ellie should have been home.

It had been a useful trip professionally speaking, and I was excited about the opportunity I would soon have to share what I had learned with my fellow Language Arts teachers. I caught a bit of a break on the last day, Friday, when my final workshop was cancelled because the presenter had been unable to make it.

On the one hand I was disappointed that the workshop had been cancelled, but on the other happy since I would be able to get home to the family a day earlier. I tried to call Ellie, but she was not home and her cell was down when I tried that; that bothered me.

Annie I knew was on a trip to the mountains with some other students from the college. I determined to surprise Ellie.

At 25,000 feet, I was daydreaming about the weekend fun and the faculty party, and I fell asleep. I woke up as the plane was making its final approach.

I took a cab home, no sense having Ellie have to drive all the way out to the airport to pick me up, especially since she was not expecting me till the next day. Plus she was probably at the school getting things ready to decorate the gym for P.E. parent night the next weekend.

I was hoping for a real nice welcome from Ellie. I was feeling frisky and wanted to play. Again, I knew Annie was still up in the sierras on her backpacking trip. As for that, it was one that was annually sponsored by the environmental club she'd joined at the junior college where she had enrolled as a freshman just a few months before.

I therefore fully expected a weekend of uninterrupted fun and frolic with my wife.

What I wasn't expecting was a car in my driveway that wasn't one of ours. Ellie wasn't alone. My heart caught in my throat. Past experience made me wary.

******

Though I hoped what I was thinking would not be true; I was afraid that it was.

I parked a few doors down from the house and made my way to the side gate which was at the end of short path that ran between the side of the garage and the neighbor's hedge. It was late in the day and the sun was low and behind me which I hoped would help conceal my movements.

I needn't have worried: no one was in the kitchen or the front room, and the curtains to the upstairs bedroom were drawn. In the back, the kitchen door was unlocked; I slipped in.

The house was unusually quiet: no vacuum cleaner, no clang of utensils or dishes, no humming or singing-my wife always sang when she was doing housework. None of the usual.

I peered into the dinette from the kitchen doorway. Beyond it lay the living room. My wife was reclining on the couch, naked. The man, also naked, lay half on top of her playing with her breasts and slobbering kisses all over her upper torso and lips. I was sick. The man was Marco Phillips, the P.E. teacher.

I resisted the impulse to rush in and ruin their little tryst. I needed to think. I was no fool; I knew that if I burst in on them it could be a case of "he said she said," and there were two of them and only one of me; I was already thinking divorce. What else could I think; this was the second time she'd cheated; I was determined it would be the last. I slipped out of the house.

******

My first call was to Rex Coleman. Rex had gone to college with me years before and over time we had kept in contact. We weren't the blood brothers that we once had been, but we were still good friends. Rex was a private investigator who worked for one of the best law firms in the city.

Rex agreed to do the surveillance and to check the asshole out who was fucking Ellie. At this point, I was more into revenge than anything else; Ellie I knew could handle, but I wanted to destroy the asshole too. If I could make Clyde Barrow eat the weenie, I sure as hell could handle Mr. Phillips. I wanted that maybe even more than I wanted to get revenge on my slut wife. But the first order of business was to protect myself and ensure that I wasn't going to have the tables turned on me in court; again, I wasn't stupid.

My only concern was Annie; this was going to undo her. But then again, she was a strong girl and pretty smart. I had to hope that she would weather this new storm as she had the last. What had she said before? Something about her mom being compulsive or the like; I couldn't remember.

I took a motel room for the night and planned to return the next day as originally scheduled. That night I planned some more, and then I drank and brooded and slept.

******

I woke to a gray and rainy day. That the weather was shit seemed appropriate; it sure as hell matched my mood. But, I knew I had to keep it together until I finally figured out a way to handle my situation.

I wasn't due home until later in the day. I called Rex back and asked for the name of a lawyer with a winning track record from his firm. He gave me a name and a number.

The office of Adele Carter was nondescript and a mess. It reminded me of the lawyer's in the movie Erin Brockovich. Appearances, however, in this case, were deceiving. This woman was clearly a predator; I wasn't feeling good, but I was feeling more secure.

My case, she assured me, was already strong. To begin with, I could prove that Ellie had cheated before. My only problem with that, and it was not a huge problem, was that I had made no major issue of it at the time. Well, love is what it is, and even now I wasn't going to like what I had to do to Ellie. But this time I was going to do it: the label of cuckold was something that I wasn't real keen about having applied to me. Still, I didn't want to bring Ellie down without also wiping out Mr. Phillips. At some point Rachel Phillips was going to be brought on board. That she would score her husband pretty good, I had no doubt.

Ms. Carter Esq. also assured me that my PI was the best. "If there is anything out there, he'll get it; you can depend on it," she said.

******

I had given Rex the key to my house. I wasn't certain that Ellie and her asshole would use our place again, but it figured that they might. Geezsus! I thought, how could she be so stupid? I mean with her track record to dare to do it in our own home. I mean even if I didn't catch her, even if Annie never had a clue: what about the neighbors. She seemed to be trying to get found out. I had told Rex, that I wanted the place wired to nail the cheaters if they did it again in my place. Rex signed on to take care of that little ditty.

Cameras in the bedroom and the living room. Additionally, he put one in the master bathroom; I wondered about that one. He said that a lot of good evidence was destroyed in the bathroom; it would be nice to get one or the other of them doing just that. "It's all about incriminating the perps," he said.

The wheels of justice-and revenge-were in motion. Now, all I had to do was wait. Wait, and pretend to be the tender, loving, stupid assed cuckold idiot I had proven to be so far. Well, I would soon be shucking that particular title. When I was done with Exlax and Lucretia Borgia, my new title would be ruthless asshole!

I arrived home at 6:00PM, thirty minutes after my expected time. Ellie was waiting for me with bells on. Damn the corned-beef and cabbage smelled good too. That would be one thing that I would miss when I bounced her ass. Well, there was no need for me to go hungry. Even an unwitting idiot cuckold had to eat.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me her most practiced kiss: she was good. "How was your flight?" she said.

"Good. Long. I'm bushed, but that corned-beef and cabbage smells great," I said with an enthusiasm that I really felt.

She talked animatedly during the entire time we ate. I made all of the right responses and asked about her week and Annie and all of the usual.

"Annie will be back tomorrow," she said. "I expect she'll be even more tired than you are. I think it's the mountain air."

I agreed.

I helped her clean up the dishes and store the leftover food. "I'm gonna shower and hit the hay," I said. "I wanna have a nice day tomorrow, and I don't want to be too tired to enjoy it."

Ellie looked genuinely upset. "I thought you and I might…"

Oddly I was horny as hell. But, the image of that butthead Phillips banging her turned my stomach. I really couldn't bring myself to touch her now, not yet.

"Not tonight El," I said. I am really dead tired. "But, tomorrow might be a whole different kettle of fish." I smiled winsomely, gave her a peck on the cheek, and headed up the stairs.

******

Sunday dawned bright and sunny-that in contrast to the gloom of the day before. Maybe the gods were trying to tell me something.

We picked Annie up together at the school. There must have been fifty students from the JC milling around. Ellie had been right about one thing: Annie was bushed.

"Geez, dad, it was fun but I'm a physical ruin right now."

"I'll bet," said. "So, did anything unusual happen? See bigfoot or anything?" I said.

"I think that bigfoot is driving the car," said Ellie laughing. "Honey, you might want to think about slowing down a little. The streets are still not all that dry from yesterday."

She sure was in a good mood for having just screwed me over with Marco Phillips a couple of days before. Maybe this cuckold thing wasn't so bad, I thought-not!

Annie was going to bear the brunt of the divorce, and half of my thinking was going into figuring out how I could minimize the damage in her regard. It was her inevitable disappointment with her mother that made me the angriest. Ellie just didn't seem to give a damn who she hurt. It was all about her and her boyfriends. Well, she could have them.

One thing I did not want to do was have sex with the woman who was destroying us. I started to yawn some, acted a little run down and tired. By the time we headed upstairs I was able to put off the otherwise inevitable by applying a few almost sincere kisses and hugs. Ellie was surprised, and maybe even a little disappointed, but she didn't say anything.

I was up before anyone, got cleaned up and dressed and headed off to school. It was going to be a long day. I knew Ellie would be going in for a double shift at the clinic, so I knew she wouldn't be at the school today, and I was grateful for that.

Annie had two classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; the first was at 9:00AM, I knew, and Ellie would be gone by then too. Rex would be doing his thing between then and 3:00PM. The stage would then be set.

When you're lucky you're lucky, I guess. Bob Fallon, our revered vice principal in charge of instruction, and a good friend for many years, asked me if I wanted to go away for the weekend with his group of fisherman. It would be giving free rein to Phillips and Ellie to go to the P.E. thing together and probably have fun together later.

We'd be out to sea from Friday evening to Sunday evening. I figured that would be perfect for my trap to be sprung. The only problem was Annie. Ellie sure wouldn't be fucking in the house if she thought Annie had any chance of catching her doing the mattress mambo; it had been Annie who had blown her mother's cover the first time around.

I knew Annie wouldn't want to go fishing with us, but there had to be something. While I was trying to figure some way to get Annie the heck outta the house for the weekend; she solved the problem for me.

"Dad, I'm going to Shelly's this weekend. "We're going to chase boys and run naked down the concourse at the mall," she said, not cracking a smile at all.

"Being more than adequately quick on my feet as well, I responded. "Honey, run naked down the concourse of mall all you want, but the boy thing is a 'not-happening.' Got it?"

"Yes, daddy. You are so strict," she said, laughing.

"Yeah, right," I said.

"What's all the chatter about," said Ellie coming into the room.

I was about to answer when I noticed that Annie's eyes took on a strange look. My imagination, I decided.

"Nothing, mom," she said. "I was just telling dad that I'm going to be running naked down the concourse at the mall this weekend. Dad said it was all right."

Ellie laughed. "But that would be immoral," she said half seriously.

The incongruity of her demeanor and remarks floored me.

I couldn't escape Ellie for the entire week. We had sex on Wednesday and again on Thursday. I felt dirty doing it with her, but I did not want to tip her off or cause her to become suspicious, besides I was horny as hell. I had the feeling that she felt she owed it to me to fuck me since she was going to be doing it with Phillips. The generosity of her soul was just too wonderful to express. Clearly she didn't want me to be totally deprived-betrayed yes-but deprived; perish the thought. Thinking about it, I was getting really pissed.

Friday afternoon, I went home to pick up my already packed stuff and headed out to the marina to meet up with the boys. Ellie was already gone to the clinic, so I didn't have to look at her. I decided to have as much fun as I could. No reason to suffer any more than necessary. Rex was on the job and the house was wired. I felt strange about the whole thing. Here I was into all of this cloak and dagger shit for the sole purpose of screwing over my wife for having screwed me over, and I was about to go fishing; it was a helluva life, I thought. I watched the shore and my marriage recede as we pulled away from the dock.

The trip out was fun, the sea a little choppy, but the forty footer, that belonged to Fallon's dad, a rich contractor in the Valley, was more than adequate to the task. We ate, drank a train load of beer, and I felt better than I had in days.

While I was at sea, I got a call on my cell.

"Yeah… oh Rex… really… okay… do what you can," I said, and hung up.

Annie had been picked up by her friend minutes after I had departed; and no sooner had she gone than Ellie had returned from work-after just two hours on the job-and parked on the street in front of the house.

Rex thought that she must have forgotten something at the house and would go back to work immediately. But, that was not the case. Twenty minutes after she arrived, a Toyota pickup pulled into the driveway. The garage door opened and the pickup pulled inside. It was obvious that the two sinners didn't want the neighbors wondering whose car was sitting in the driveway. The die was cast.

Saturday morning dawned red and blustery. The seas which had been mild chop the day before were now crashing on the bow. We headed back in. None of us had any dreams about riding out any perfect storm. Two days later the news announced that two light fishing craft had gone down over the weekend.

Docking at around 9:00AM, I rang Rex. He was at home.

"Yeah… the storm… it was pretty rough… he was there all night… I think I might sneak on down there… Yes… yes… I will be careful… you… in an hour… okay." I hung up.

The sonovabitch had slept over. I was in a quandary. Should I risk trying to catch them redhanded. Should I wait for Rex to make sure the bugs had done their job? I gnashed my teeth and decided to wait. But, I couldn't just sit. I had to do something.

I rented a car and left mine at the marina. I drove to my street and parked several doors down on the opposite side hoping to get some shots of the asshole if he came out. I'd been there about forty minutes when Rex arrived. He parked behind me, got out, and slid into my car beside me.

"You shouldn't be here, Harm. It's better you let me do the nasties. Husbands always screw things up. It's one reason the women usually walk away with the lion's share in divorce cases. Trust me," he said.

I nodded. "I just want to see his face. I mean I know the guy. But, I want to see the satisfied look on his miserable face."

"He might not…"

A chill ran through me. Turning the corner a red Chevy drove slowly by the house; Annie was in the passenger seat. "Fuck! that's my daughter," I said with a vehemence born of fear. "Rex, catch that kid and steer her away from here. I've got the detail, okay. Tell her what you need to but get her the heck outta here."

"You got it buddy."

Rex jumped in his car and chased the Chevy. I saw the two cars turn the corner, and just as they did I saw a flashing light emanate from Rex's front window. The doggone guy had a police-style flashing blue light. That had to be illegal, but it would get the girls in that car to stop, and that was the goal.

Five minutes later he was back. "I had to tell her you knew. She does too."

"Sweet Geezsus, does that kid miss anything!" I said.

"Not a whole helluva lot," said Rex. "Tell her if she ever needs a job to look me up."

I just stared at him. He wasn't kidding.

******

I was around noon when the two lovebirds decided to come out. They moved quickly, one might have said furtively to her car, which was still parked by the curb, and left. I followed them. Rex went into the house. He had evidence to collect. I was to call him as soon as I knew where the dynamic duo was headed. Ten minutes later they pulled into an IHOP. Evidently Ellie was too worn out to cook him breakfast. I wondered who would be paying.

I had the urge to go inside and join them. It would be more than interesting to hear the bullshit. But, I resisted-barely.

I called Rex. "Yeah at the IHOP on 3rd… you got it all… good… the audio… excellent… can't wait to see the pics."

We talked for a minute more. He said he was using my computer transfer all of the pics and videos as we spoke. He said the quality was excellent and the evidence damning. He was going to send me copies of everything and Adele Carter as well. I was to tip him off when the evil doers were done eating in case he had to get outta there in a hurry.

It was almost an hour later that Ellie and her boyfriend exited the restaurant. They were hand in hand talking and smiling and having a gay old time. I wondered about the condition of the house. I was betting they hadn't had a chance to clean up. I decide to walk in on them. We had it all evidence-wise.

Annie knew everything. The marriage was over. No need to wait. Why let them get it on anymore than they already had.

I called Rex to let him know. I was expecting him to try and call me off, but he didn't. He said he'd wait there inside and hide somehow and be my witness. "But, Harm, do not offer either of them any violence; it'd ruin your case."

"I won't," I said.

I followed my wife and her adulterous asshole boyfriend back to the house. I turned down a couple of different streets to avoid being seen, I knew where they were headed, and gave them enough time to get inside.

On the way, I had an inspiration. I called Rex. "Yeah Rex… call Mrs. Phillips and get her over here… yeah… tell her anything… tell her the truth if you have to."

Fifteen minutes later the lovers parked in front of the house and hurried inside. I knew Rex was in there somewhere; I had visions of him being a voyeur hiding inside of a closet or something. But I wanted to wait for Mrs. Phillips. They lived near the school which was but five minutes away. She pulled up eight minutes later. I intercepted her.

"Did Rex tell you?" I said.

"Yes," she hissed. "He said your whore and my asshole are inside doing the hootchiekoo!"

"Yeah, and this is not the first time. You'll get all of the pics, audio, and videos," I told her. We headed for the house.

"The fuckwad," she muttered. "We have three kids. The fucking cheating asshole…"

Hearing a woman as pretty and as classy as Rachel Phillips talking trash like that shocked me. But, that was fodder for another day. Right now we had to ruin a sexual interlude. I whipped out my cell and set it to take pictures. I wanted to catch the look on their faces when we destroyed their plans.

******

I wanted to avoid the windows as much as possible I wasn't going to go in the front door. We snuck around the back to the basement door and let ourselves in quietly. We could hear voices upstairs, but the words were still indistinguishable.

"Careful of the third step," I admonished her, "it squeaks."

I stepped over it as we climbed the stairs. She was glued to me. As incongruous and untimely as it sounds, her nearness was turning me on. She was a sexy woman. The asshole she was married to sure didn't deserve her.

At the top of the stairs I listened at the door. They were further away, probably in the front room. I slowly opened the door and signaled her to follow.

"You're sure proud of that cock aren't you, big guy?" I heard Ellie say.

"You like it well enough." Laughed Phillips.

We walked in to the living room and stopped just inside the doorway. Phillips was completely naked. Ellie was still dressed except for her blouse which she had apparently just taken off.

"Harm!" Ellie's face was suddenly Confederate gray. The tears literally sprang from her eyes. She had run out of words.

"Hello shitass," said Rachel as she advanced on her frightened and shocked husband. "Do not come home today. I will send a bag of clothes to your mother's tomorrow. The marriage is over. If you don't contest it, and if you stay away from me and the kids until I say you can visit, I will let you keep your car and your personal stuff. Everything else is lost to you. Got it big boy!" She snapped her fingers at him and he quailed.

"Harm… " Ellie said. "I'm sorry. Tell Annie, I'm sorry too."

She picked up her blouse and purse and left.

Her paramour dressed quickly and left too. I heard the garage door opener engage and the roar of his engine and then he was gone.

Rex emerged from the walk in closet in the downstairs guest room. We talked, just the three of us. Rachel was crying her eyes out. Mine were misting over too. It was not a happy occasion.

******

Annie returned about an hour after the confrontation. She immediately assessed the happenings.

"How long have you known, Annie," I said. I was a little miffed at her because she hadn't come to me.

"I didn't know for sure, dad. It was the smell," she said.

"Huh?" I said. Rex was interested too.

"Mr. Phillips wears this really awful cologne. Last week when you were gone I smelled it in the house. I knew it wasn't yours at least I was pretty sure it wasn't. So, I got suspicious and arranged to be at Shelly's. I wanted to see if the asshole showed up when he thought we were gone. He did, and I was hopping mad. I was going to try and call you, but Mr. Coleman intercepted me before I could."

"My offer to you about her still stands," said Rex.

I just shook my head. What a kid.

"Dad, what are you going to do about mom?"

"I'm divorcing her, Annie. I have no choice. I love her; I won't deny it, but she just can't resist the strange…"

"Cock. Yeah, I know dad."

******

The next several days were a nightmare for me. True the pressure was off. My lawyer was licking her chops. Rex was supportive and we'd met a couple of times to drown my sorrows in a tankard of ale, actually several tankards of ale. But I missed my cheatin' heart: Ellie. That I would never see her again was a distinct possibility. After so many years, the psychological investment in our marriage, and our common love for our child: it just wasn't easy to forget it all and start over.

Rachel had become a friend. She had kicked her asshole out, and needed a friendly ear too, I guess. For his part Mr. Phillips had remained scarce since the day of reckoning, but I had a feeling that he'd try to improve his situation as opportunities for him to do so might arise.

He'd quit his job at the school: me being there was more heat than he was willing to endure, at least in the short term, I guess. That his resignation was accepted with little or no demur was telling.

I was sitting in the bar alone talking to Elton. There were few patrons at the moment, and that suited me. I had had too many folks trying to cheer me up since the end had come, too much advice-all well meant-that wouldn't do me any good; I needed to be left alone. Well, apart from my favorite bartender that is.

"Harm, I hear that Phillips guy quit the school. That true," said Elton.

"Yeah, it's true," I said.

"I figured it was. He used to come in all the time. Haven't seen him since you and Ellie…"

I nodded.

Elton meandered up to the other end of the bar as another customer signaled for a fresh yellow-pepsi.

I barely heard him try to get my attention. "Harm."

I looked up at him. I had been more or less meditating on the miserable state of the world until Elton would come on back down to me.

"What?" I said.

He nodded toward the entrance. There as big as life stood the former P.E. department chair of my school.

I spun around on my school and pushed my beer a little farther away from me. I was waiting for the man to see me and leave. He saw me and didn't leave.

"Well, who have we here? Mr. high and mighty, I guess," said Marco.

I didn't respond.

"What's a matter? Cat got your tongue, hot shot." His tone was filled with venom.

"You don't want to push it butthead. I am not in the mood," I said.

"Oh, you're not in the mood. Well, what if I am?" he said.

"That would be another case of bad judgment on your part," I said.

He moved toward me sneering as he came. I got off the stool and stood waiting. He still had a court date with Rachel, and I didn't want to give him any ammunition, but if he took a swing at me all bets were off.

I'd had a couple of beers already, but I was still in control. Marco was at least a hundred pounds heavier than me, but he was arrogant. Confidence born of arrogance was counterfeit, as my old army instructor used to say.

He never broke stride as he unloaded a punch at me as I stood there. I merely side-stepped him and he banged into the bar. He turned and beckoned me with a finger-his middle finger. I said nothing.

Elton was watching the action from behind the bar. He looked amused; I be talking to him about that later on.

Marco was more cautious now. "Oh yeah, he said, "I forgot you were some kind of big shot army man. Let's see how much you remember asshole."

He rushed me. I was hoping for just such an error in judgment. Stepping to the side I flashed a side kick at his knee; the timing was perfect. He hit the ground like a sack of wet cement. The pain had robbed him of his breath.

"Fucking Geezsus!" he cried.

"Hurts like a sonovabitch, huh?" I said.

After a few minutes of swearing and crying, he crawled toward the door and then managed to get himself upright enough to hop and stumble his way out.

I reseated myself at the bar and wondered how in the hell Ellie could ever have decided to trade me in on a shitass like Marco Phillips. The insult was almost worse than the cheating itself-almost.

Chapter 3

The last time I saw Ellie she had been running out of the house holding her blouse and her purse in her hand. She hadn't even taken her car. I found out later, with help from Rex, that she had evidently gone down a few blocks and called a cab. Then she had simply disappeared from the face of the Earth.

I was sure she would return at some point during those next few days and try to talk to me. But I was wrong. As the days passed and became a week, then two, then three, with no attempt to contact me; I became at first mildly concerned, then worried, then very worried. My last impression of her demeanor was that she was hurting and depressed-and feeling very guilty. I prayed she wouldn't do anything stupid.

That was three years ago, and the memory was still fresh. Worse, I was now alone. Not alone in the sense that I had no one around me or couldn't get a date, but in the sense that I felt empty and incapable of a happy moment.

My wife, my ex-wife, had not even shown up for the divorce. I made my lawyer, Ms. Carter Esq. of the same name as me, commit to giving her half of the estate; but to the best of my knowledge, the point was moot. I'm sure she didn't know about the settlement or really even the divorce, though I expect she probably guessed I had gone through with it. It was sad and cold and empty, that is my life.

******

Ellie ran. At first she didn't even realize that she was half naked. She stopped stepped behind a tree and hurriedly put on her blouse. She headed out once again. She had thirty-five dollars and a couple of credit cards. She bent the cards in half several times each and ditched them in a big smelly trash can behind a convenience store.

She sat on the park bench and sobbed into the fabric of her purse. She mentally assessed the events of the past twenty-four hours. How could she have been so incredibly stupid? She had no defense. She had humiliated and betrayed her husband and now she had nothing-and-she allowed, she deserved nothing.

She had but the thirty-five dollars now. She had to figure a way to get out of there, and get away from her shame. Harm, poor Harm, he'd worry about her, she knew; but, he'd get over it eventually and get on with his life; he deserved better.

******

She'd taken a bus toward downtown. She hadn't cared where. She just wanted to get away. She got off and started walking.

She was still walking the street hours later; she had no idea where she was, and it was late at night. She stopped at a park bench and took off her shoes her feet were killing her. She was sure glad she'd had sneakers on.

"Hey woman whatcha doin'," said a voice to her right.

She ignored him. She looked around. It was clearly a rough part of town. She was suddenly frightened. What had she done? What had she gotten herself into!

The man approached. He was grubby and smelly and about as unkempt as he could be. He looked her over. He knew in a minute she wasn't from around there. "You know where you are woman?" He said.

"No," said Ellie.

"Whaddya called?" he said.

She almost said Ellie, but she stopped. "Grace," she said.

"Yeah right. I saw you hesitate. But, no matter, none of us have names around here," he said.

"What is this place?" she said really wondering.

"Skid row," said the man.

Suddenly it all made sense. The man was homeless and probably a wino. A regular down here, she thought. Well what the hell, she was homeless too if it came to that.

"Is there a shelter around her," said Grace.

The man choked down his laughter. "Down in the city proper. There's a couple of missions, but not much else. I take it you have no place to stay. I can see you're new to the street."

Ellie thought. Despair suddenly overwhelmed her. She realized she was in a very tough and dangerous spot. She started crying.

The man laughed. It made her look up. It made her angry. She was desperate and he was laughing at her. "What the hell…"

"Fuck all of the bawlin' lady. It ain't got no currency down here. Down here it's from day to fuckin' day."

"Can you help me?" she pleaded.

"Help you? Hell I can't even help myself. I just survive," he said. "Like I said, from day to fuckin' day."

She started sobbing again. He was getting tired of her whining.

"This is it, Grace or whoever you are, you can stay with me, but there's a price," he said.

"A price? I have only a little money. I need a place to stay. I'm frightened," she said.

"Down here we're all scared. But we survive. The price is a piece of that sweet ass of yours," he said. "It's been a long time. For that you'll get my protection. You'll be my woman while you're down here. I'll show you the ropes. You won't last long on your own."

She was stunned. "Are you fucking kidding me!"

"Fine," he said. "I don't rape women. But them as do are around, and there are a lot of 'em." He started to walk away.

"Wait. Okay. Where?" she said. She was sickened, but it was clear to her now. Her punishment was going to be long and painful.

"Follow me," he said.

She put her shoes back on without tying them and followed him. There was a dark loading dock behind a business of some sort. The place was deserted. He led her to a still darker corner. There were some big cardboard boxes flattened and stacked nearby. He got one of them and brought it over to where she stood.

"Well, strip," he said. "We can't do it with your clothes on."

She slowly took off her clothes and balled them up and set them at one end of the cardboard box that he would do her on.

He stripped off his clothes quickly and stood over her; she had sat herself down on the box.

She studied him more closely. He was muscled and thin. He'd have been okay looking if he weren't so dirty. And he smelled so bad.

"Get on your knees and bend over," he said. "It has been too damn long. I gotta have it right now."

She was slow but she did as he said. She knelt and bent over.

He gazed almost reverently at her perfect breasts, sizzling butt, and the inviting cleft between her ass cheeks. He'd never had class like this, not in his whole life, not even with the chicks in "Nam.

He knelt behind her and kissed her exposed anus. He was going to savor every minute of this night.

He'd thought to fuck her and dump her. But, now he was thinking to keep her for himself. The rest of those cocksuckers down on Macy Street could fuck themselves. He'd protect her, and he and she would do their thing together. Inside him, he knew it would last forever, not with this chick, but for a while he'd have himself the comfort and attentions of a real live woman.

He licked her up and down her slit, and she became increasingly agitated and excited. At least he wasn't a brute, she thought. She felt him press his penis against her sopping pussy lips. He entered her and began to push deeper and deeper inside of her. She moaned.

He started sawing in and out of her. Soon he was banging her fiercely and she felt herself give way to an orgasm. He followed close behind with one of his own. When he finally unloaded eashing her insides he almost had a heart attack from the thrill of it.

He pulled out and lay beside her as she crumbled into a fetal position at the edge of the cardboard.

"Come here," he said.

She looked at him.

"You need to suck me hard again. I wanna take you on your back. I wanna see your face while I do you."

She followed instructions. She took hold of his cock and stroked it a few times. Then she let it slip between her lips and she sucked him for some minutes until he was rock hard once more.

She rolled onto her back and he mounted her. Her legs over his shoulders he banged her for twenty minutes. She came again. She had the strange thought that this filthy wino was a better fuck than Marco Phillips ever was. She started to laugh.

They lay together for some time. He actually held her, and she let him.

"What now," she said.

"We go home," he said.

"Where's home," she said.

He pointed. Home turned out to be a small leanto-like shack he'd constructed. It was awful, but it was waterproof he'd said. It was the best he could do at the moment.

Thus began Ellie's degeneration into the realm of the bag lady.

******

Harm waited impatiently for her. His fingers had played entire symphonies on the table's surface, or so it seemed, before his counterpart; the offended wife of Marco Phillips appeared and slid into a chair opposite him.

"Criminy, Rachel, I'm gonna buy you a watch," he said laughing.

"I'm a woman, I'm supposed to be late; Darwin said so," she quipped.

"He did?"

"Well, he should've if he didn't," said Rachel Phillips.

"Right," said Harm. "Anyway, how are you doing. Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks."

The waitress arrived with the drinks that Harm had preordered: a straight vodka for him and a rum collins for her. He left a twenty on the table and asked the girl to keep an eye on their glasses and to refill them at appropriate intervals.

"Okay. It's awful quiet around the house with him gone. Don't get me wrong; I'm glad he's gone. With him around it was always the wrong kind of noise, if you know what I mean," she said.

"Yeah, I guess I do," said Harm.

"Let me ask you the same question. How are you doing?"

"Rachel, you'd think that after three years that I could answer that," he said, "but I can't. I miss her. I miss her a lot. I guess I was really and truly in love."

She smiled wanly at her counterpart. They had become soulmates of a sort since their divorces. Rachel dated some, but Harm only rarely, and more to prove to himself that he still could than because he cared seriously about any of the women he went out with; he didn't. He was beginning to believe the old saw that a man only loved once in his lifetime, movie scripts to the contrary notwithstanding, was a fact.

"So how is Annie getting along? You know in the time we've been friends, I've really gotten to adore that girl," said Rachel.

"She has that effect on people," said Harm.

"She's going to grad soon, right?"

"Yes, next month, end of May. I am really looking forward to it. It'll be a little bit sad though without her mom there to bask in her achievement," he said.

Rachel looked down at her drink. "You really do still love that woman don't you Harm."

"I guess. I don't know. I hate what she did to me. I keep trying to convince myself that she can't help herself; that she has some kind of medical condition or something. Oh, I know that's all chaff in the wind, but it's all I can come up with that makes a damn bit of sense."

She laid her hand gently on his arm. "You're a good man, Harmon. I hope it works out for you and for Annie.

"On a lighter note; I have a company party at the end of next week, and I am dateless. Do you think you could see you way clear to escort me? I went solo the past two years and I really felt out of the loop. No strings, just guard duty," she said laughing.

"Absolutely, dear heart, you got it. Just tell me when and where, and I'll be there," he said.

"Wonderful," she said. "I was afraid you'd think of it as cheating. It's Saturday evening at the Round Tree Inn."

"Rachel! That was uncalled for; I mean about the appearance of cheating," he said, laughing at her.

******

Rex had been loosely tasked with trying to locate Ellie in his spare time. He had moved heaven and earth to find her in the beginning, even though he'd had misgivings. But for the past two years he had made at least desultory efforts to locate her: more of a passive watching and listening kind of thing than anything proactive.

He was coming out of a cheap hotel downtown when something strange occurred across the street. A bag lady was wrestling with a store owner over some apparently pilfered groceries. Ever the white knight, he rushed across the street and restrained the man.

"Hey, guy, cut her some slack, okay. Here, I'll pay for the stuff. He passed the snarling man a twenty and that seemed to pacify him. He turned to say something to the woman, but she was already gone, and with the groceries.

Since he'd just parted with a double sawbuck he decided to maximize his opportunities. Affecting the demeanor of your friendly neighborhood PI, he asked: Ever seen this woman around here?" He showed him Ellie's picture.

"You're kidding right?" said the man.

"Why would you say that?" said Rex.

"You just bought her groceries," said the man. "Her name's Grace. I don't think she has a last name; none of them do."

Rex felt frustrated! So near and yet so far. Well, he now knew for a fact that she was in the area. She'd never seen him; so he could look without concern of being recognized and having her skip country again. He'd still been hidden in the bedroom when she rushed out the door and into thin air that fateful day. He decided not to say anything to Harm, not until he knew for sure, and until he could find the woman.

*******

Annie was exiting her Philosophy of Aesthetics class when Carol Montgomery came up to her.

"So Annie, has your mom been found yet?" asked Carol.

"No, not yet. We're still hoping," said Annie.

"Why, your dad needed to be rid of her. She was a slut Annie, and you know it," said Carol.

Annie's visage darkened. "Don't ever say that again, and you'll be able to avoid a lot of dental bills," Said Annie.

"Well, gee," said Carol. "You know what I say is true, Annie. We both saw her that day in the mall all over that asshole. Danielle saw it too," she concluded.

Carol never saw the right hook that laid her out. When the dust had settled; Annie was in cuffs and seated in the back of a squad car, and Carol Montgomery was on her way to the EMR.

"Harm," he said, as he picked up the phone in his room at the school.

"Harm, could you please come to the office right away," said the voice of Bob Fallon the VP.

"Sure, be right over," he said.

At the office he'd gotten the message that Annie was in trouble with the police and was being held at Central jail. He was out the door as soon as he got the necessary facts. Gawd! he thought, I hope they take credit cards down there.

In the car he and his daughter were silent almost the whole way home. Finally, he said, "Okay, why?"

"She insulted mom, called her a slut-twice. I couldn't take it. So, I unloaded on her," said Annie.

"Geezsus, Annie, the officer said the girl is in the hospital!" said her dad.

"Yeah, well, she brought it on herself. No one talks that way about my mom, or my dad either for that matter," said an unrepentant Annie.

"I hope this doesn't cost us a lawsuit," said Harm.

"I'll pay it, dad, if it comes to that," she said.

"Dear heart, we'll play it by ear. From what I hear she provoked you; that may mitigate things some; we'll see," he said.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Harm didn't let it show on his face, but he was secretly proud of his girl. She'd done it wrong, but he would have done the same damn thing, and he knew it, wrong or not. Oh, Ellie, he thought, if you only knew. He started to tear up as he thought about her.

******

The legal matter between Annie and Carol was settled in an odd way the very next day.

"Hey, you're Harm Carter," said a big guy who was leaning against a pillar in front of the administration building.

"Yes, I am. What can I do for you," said Harm.

The guy approached and sent a powerful sucker punch right into his jaw line. "How does it feel, shithead," said his assailant. "My names Ames Montgomery. You might remember me. I was ranked sixth light-heavy by the WBA a few years back. If your daughter ever screws with mine again, you'll be seeing me-again," he said, and he stalked off.

Most of what he said Harm didn't hear. It was a few minutes before he regained any feeling in his limbs or any serious pretense to conscious thought.

"Geezsus," said Bob Fallon, "that guy really brought it. You okay, Harm?"

I had a witness. I knew any potential lawsuit against Annie was a dead issue now. Mr. Ames Montgomery may have been a contender, as I later discovered was true, but a military genius he wasn't. The sucker punch had been worth it-well, it was after the swelling went down.

Additionally, the power punch that laid Carol Montgomery out stilled any further baloney on the part of anyone taking her mother to task-male or female.

******

Rachel Phillips looked like a million bucks, and Harm told her so. "Wow!" he said. "Now I know why I have guard duty."

She giggled. "Well, thank you mister. You sure know how to massage a girl's ego. Shall we go?"

"For damn sure," he said. "Can't wait to show you off."

They drove the few miles to their destination, the Round Tree Inn, in near as few minutes.

Other couples were already dancing and drinking and carrying on. Harm, with Rachel, on his arm found a table to base themselves and headed for the bar. They ordered their usual, returned to their base, and nursed them.

Two other couples joined them at their table, and within minutes they had all introduced themselves and were drinking and talking animatedly. It was the best time in a party's life.

Some hour and a half later Sam Tolliver was dancing with Rachel. He had his hand lightly covering her ass and his knee separating her legs and pressing against her vulva. Rachel pushed him politely back.

Harm who was between dances at that moment looked over at the concerned wife of the man. He knew what he had to do.

"Pamela, may I have this dance?" he said.

"Uh-yes," she said, having been pulled out of her reverie by his words.

They danced near to Rachel and Sam and made themselves obvious. Sam wouldn't be getting any strange that night, and you could see it in his eyes that he was miffed. Harm determined to talk to the man.

Dance over, the four returned to their table; the other couple that had joined them were still on the dance floor.

Harm asked Sam to help him get a round of drinks at the bar. The man, still miffed, couldn't very well say no, so he nodded and they went. As they waited at the end of the bar for the barkeep for the evening to notice them, Harm went for the juggler.

"Sam, listen to me and listen good. Don't be tryin' to get into Rachel's pants, or for that matter anyone else's but you lovely wife's. You and the woman you might try to get it on with will be caught and you will both be real sorry. Trust me, it ain't worth it."

"What in hell! Who are you… " His speech was cut off at the pass as Harm grabbed him by the balls-literally-and forced him up on his toes.

"Listen to me. I know what I'm talking about from experience. You have a great lady there, and you should be making sure she knows you love her. Strange pussy will not make you any happier than she will if she knows you appreciate her. Take it from me." He released his grip on the man's privates and smiled at him.

"You've got a lot of nerve, asshole," said Sam trying to get his breathing back to something approaching normal.

"Yeah, can't argue with you there. I am an asshole; I think it was even in the newspaper," Harm laughed. "But, I'm one asshole who cares about you and your wife. Yeah, yeah, I know I don't know you well enough to care. Well, I do. I don't want anyone to go through what I went through."

Sam snorted something that would have been unintelligible to anyone in the English speaking world.

The barkeep finally came, took their orders, and the two of them returned to the table with the drinks.

The rest of the evening went increasingly smoothly. After he had gotten over his mild embarrassment from what Harm had done to him, he danced all but two of the dances with his wife. The other two dances with Pamela were with different guys cruising the party. Sam did dance once more with Rachel and kept his hands to himself.

By the end of the evening Sam approached Harm as they went to get the ladies wraps. "I wanna thank you," he said. "I've thought about what you said. I've got six kids and a pretty good looking broad for a wife. I really don't need strange, do I?"

"No you don't. And your wife, just for the record is a stone fox," said Harm.

On the way back, after the party Harm took Rachel to a small all night coffee shop near her home. They sat and sipped their goodnight cappuccinos contentedly.

"What did you do to Sam?" said Rachel. "he apologized to me for all of his earlier grab ass antics. I know for a fact that he wanted my ass, a piece of it that is; and I also know his wife was not appreciating it. Also, later in the powder room, Pam asked me to tell you thanks. What was all that about?"

"Sam and I had a little discussion. I think he appreciates what he's got a little more now," said Harm. "I think he gets it now."

"You know, you're a pretty nice guy," said Rachel.

He had turned pensive. I just wish…"

"I know," she said covering his hand with hers.

******

Rex had managed to find Ellie, but decided to babysit her from a distance until he could figure out how to deal with her. He couldn't make her go back if she didn't want to. And if he did influence her to do so, would Harm run with the opportunity or run her off. He knew that the best thing for Harm was to forgive her once again and work it out, as crazy as it might sound. But, that didn't mean that Harm would go that route. And then again there was Ellie.

She was in dire straits, but she was a registered nurse with a master's degree, she could work anywhere she wanted, but she was clearly punishing herself for her sins. Would she be willing to forgive herself, at least enough to try again? Rex didn't know, so he would play it by ear in the short term.

One day while keeping tabs on her, a man, also a denizen of the row, grabbed a bag she was carrying, knocking her down in the process. He didn't dare accost the man, while he was in the process of the robbery, so he waited till he turned the corner then he went after him.

"Whatcha got there man," said Rex.

"Huh?" said the wino, as he turned to see who was addressing him.

"I saw you knock the broad down and take her bag. Tell you what. You give it back to her right away, and I won't kill you," said Rex, pulling his jacket open enough for the other to see the Colt-45 auto in his belt.

"Shit mister it's just a bag of oranges," he said.

"But they're her oranges," said Rex.

"Hey, man, that's my woman. She said she'd get me some of these and then she wouldn't share when she did. I dumped her 'cause of that," he said, expecting the other to understand.

"I said, take the oranges back and give them back to her. I'm not going to say it again," said Rex.

The wino thought about protesting some more but decided he didn't want to risk messin' with a stranger who was obviously not from around there. "Okay, okay," he said and he retraced his steps and returned the oranges. Rex watched from behind a dumpster.

He saw the two talk for some minutes. He saw the wino give her back the bag and feel up her tits after he did it. Shit, he thought, had she fallen that low. He couldn't wait much longer. Ellie might have a death wish, and that was unacceptable no matter what. He had to get her out of there and soon.

He saw them sit down together and they each consumed an orange. Ellie was smiling up at the guy. The irony of the whole thing was that he was pretty sure that Ellie had hooked up with him for protection. Well, some protection at night was better than none.

Rex decided he had to get back to the office. He had an appointment with a job applicant.

******

Annie was sitting across from her dad in the kitchen. "Dad, I miss mom."

"I know, babe, I miss her too," said Harm.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Would you take her back? I mean if she promised to be good and everything," said Annie.

Harm Carter slowly shook his head. "I don't know, babe, I just don't know. She's done it twice. I don't know if she can help herself."

"What if she can't?" said Annie.

"Whaddya mean, girl," he said.

"I mean what if there is some psychological reason that makes it really hard for her to not be influenced to do stuff? You know what I mean?" said Annie.

Harm reflected for a moment before answering. "Well, I guess that would be different. But, as far as I know there is no reason to think that your mother has a problem like that. I mean being tempted and giving in to the temptation is not a psychological problem, Annie, it's a moral one."

Annie was silent and pensive. "I guess," she finally said.

"Whaddya plan to do today?" said Harm.

"Got a job interview. I'll be gradding soon, and I am looking to go to work," she said.

"Oh, and who is the interview with?"

"I'll let you know if it goes well," she said, dodging the question.

"Okay, see yuh for dinner," he said.

******

Annie sat in the office and waited. The office of Adele Carter was quiet at the moment. Annie heard the doorknob engage and looked to her right.

Adele Carter approached Annie Carter and offered her her hand. "Hi, I'm Adele," said the well dressed lady. "You must be Annie."

"Yes, ma'am," she said.

"Rex will be here in a minute. He has an office in the back, would you like to wait there; it's more comfortable," she said.

"Yes, ma'am, that'd be fine," said Annie.

Less than five minutes later, Rex entered his office and smiled at the young lady seated in front of his desk. "Hi, Annie," he said. "So, you think you'd like to be a PI," he said.

"Yes, sir," she said. She wasn't actually nervous, but she was a little shy, if that was the word, about asking for a job. She knew Rex, and he and her dad were friends. She knew she'd get and take the job unless she couldn't agree to some of the things she'd learned in her course work in Police Science; she knew PI's often skirted the rules; she would not do that.

"Well, I guess you kinda know firsthand about some of the things we do, right?"

"Sure do," she said.

"And you graduate in a few weeks, right?" said Rex.

"Yes sir, May 20th."

"Well, Annie there are a couple of things I have to ask. Bear in mind, you've got the job if you want it. But, I have to ask because we do things here that require judgment, and you have to abide by these rules no matter what. Kinda like a newspaperman has to protect his sources and the like. Am I making myself clear?" he said.

"Yes, I think so," she said.

"And, a lot of the work is tedious and unrewarding. Some of it is downright distasteful," he said.

"Yes, I know," she said. "Like spying on cheaters and working for people you would not really like to be working for sometimes."

"Exactly. In fact sometimes you end up liking the people you are spying on better than the ones who hired you," he said. "It's the damndest thing."

Annie laughed, "I can believe that. But, Rex, there is one thing. I will not break the law."

"You will never be asked to, a jaw or two maybe but never the law," he said, making his point.

"I deserved that," she said. "I never should have hit her, but she crossed a line that I will never let anyone cross for free, not anyone."

Rex looked at her for a moment. "You know what we do is always in confidence. If I, as your boss, say shut up; you shut up. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes sir," she said.

"Annie, you're hired. I've already have the papers drawn up. Ms. Carter, who employs both of us, has prepared them. Here, look them over and then, if you wish, sign and date them in the places marked."

Annie looked at the relatively simple documents closely. "Is that my salary?" she said. "I mean, I'm new…"

"You'll be earning every dime of it," he said. "Your days freeloading off your dad are over." He laughed outright, almost choking as he did so.

She signed and dated the papers, and pushed them back to him.

"Okay. Remember, we are not bankers; we do not keep bankers hours; we have no time clocks; we have no union representative. And you're on the job as of right now, okay?"

"Sure!" she said.

"Okay, now I am going to tell you something in confidence. You are not at liberty to tell anyone about it whomsoever for any reason whatsoever until I say so, and only if I say so. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," she said, becoming a tad irritated at continually being told.

"Okay then. I've found your mom." He let his words sink in.

"Pardon me?"

"I've found your mom. But, you cannot tell your dad, not yet. In fact you may not ever be able to tell him. I'm still working on that," he said.

"Fucking Geezsus!" said Annie. "Rex…"

"Annie, I'm the boss here, and I am using that judgment I mentioned a while ago. For it to be useful to tell your dad, both him and your mom have to be on the same page and want it; otherwise, we'll just be opening new wounds on top of the old.

"You and I will be going to see your mom today," he said, finally. "Then, if your mom is cool with seeing him, we'll take it from there. Are you with me?"

Annie was shaking. She couldn't sit still. "Yes," she said simply, between clenched teeth. "Let's freakin' go!"

He smiled.

******

They drove in silence. The day was hot and muggy. But in the airconned car the weather did not enter into anything.

"Can I ask, where are we going?" said Annie.

Rex looked over at her and nodded. "Skid row."

She looked over at him. Her mouth hung open. She was all but speechless. "Where?"

"Your mom, Annie, is a bag lady."

Her brow knitted. She couldn't be hearing what she was hearing.

"She's really down on her luck. She's clearly depressed, and I am worried about her. Now you know why we have to be careful with this, with her."

"Sweet mother of gawd!" Annie muttered.

They pulled into a small trash-littered lot at the back of a soup kitchen. Rex motioned her to get out. "She'll be in here this time of day," he said. "Wear these," he said. He handed her a fishing cap and a pair of cheap dark glasses that seemed to cover half her face. "We'll observe for a few minutes."

"Okay," said Annie.

"Annie, one more thing. I had you wear those old clothes for a reason. We're not so much in disguise; we just don't want to stand out.

You're going to speak to her first. When it's time, I will float toward the back door. If she tries to break away from you, I will be there to intercept her. We must talk to her, and we must do it today. Okay?"

"Absooo-freakin'-lutely!"

"Okay then, curtain up," he said.

Inside of the soup kitchen there were dozens of tables. The place was about half full. Most of the patrons were old men and women; a few kids moved around and played between the benches. The tragedy of their situations made Annie feel guilty.

"Rex, how can there be this much poverty in a country like ours," she said.

"There shouldn't be, Annie. Someday the mongers of greed in our capitols will stop catering to the big money lobbies and pay attention to us and to folks like these. They will just have to do something about it all regardless.

See that guy over there with the UCLA cap?"

"Yes. He's a defrocked doctor. Got caught using drugs. Spent time in the slam and lost his license. But he still works-for free and on the sly," he said. Takes care of the others around here."

"What's his name?"

Rex laughed, "Doc," he said. "Nobody around here gives their real names. Oh, and by the way, your mom's name is Grace. I've learned she's helped Doc out from time to time."

They seated themselves at a vacant table in the middle of the room. "Why don't you get us both a cup of coffee," he said. "I'll wait here. Annie started walking toward the bank of urns on the right side of the cavernous cafeteria. She stopped cold. Two tables down she saw her. She moved over a couple of tables and continued toward the urns. She got the coffee and slowly, unobtrusively returned to Rex. "She's there," said Annie, nodding.

"Yeah, I spotted her the same time you did," he said. "She's alone. Take your cup and go sit with her. Remember her name is Grace around here. If she doesn't recognize you at first take of the hat and glasses. Be gentle; remember she's a broken woman. Let her know you love her early on; it may help. I'm heading for the back door."

Annie nodded and, as casually as she could, meandered among the tables to get to where her mother was sitting nursing her own cup of coffee. She slid in across from her.

"Hi Grace," said Annie.

The woman looked tired and only half present. "Do I know you?"

"Yes." Annie took of the hat and glasses. "I love you mom," she hurried to say.

"What the-how did you…"

"Mommy, I love you," said Annie, tearing up.

"Annie, I-"

"I know mom. It's okay now. I'm here. I know you have questions, so do I.

"Mom, we are never going to be apart again," said Annie.

"Oh Annie!" Ellie Carter got up and rushed around the table to hug her daughter. The tears flowed freely between them. Rex, watching from the back waited to get the high sign from Annie. It was a full five minutes before Annie remembered he was even there. When she did, she motioned him over.

"Wha…?" Said Ellie sensing something.

"It's okay mom. I have a job. I'm a PI," she said proudly. "I work for Rex." She indicated the man who sat down opposite them.

"Annie, what am I going to do?" sobbed her mother.

"Mrs. Carter. This is complicated. When you-left-three years ago, your husband was angry at you, but he was also worried about you. He hired me to locate you and to make sure you were safe and secure.

"To answer your unstated question as to what comes next, that's going to be a toughie. Your daughter here and I, think you belong home with your husband. It's just…"

"He still hates me. I know," she said.

"Mrs. Carter, no, he doesn't hate you. He loves you. He's just not sure that…"

"That he can trust me," she said completing his sentence.

"Well, yes and no. Honestly, he worries that he might not be able to survive mentally if he were to have to go through it again," said Rex. "But, on the other hand, I know he is sick with worry about you and would maybe, probably, want to have you back; if you'd be willing. Are you?" challenged Rex.

******

Annie had let them into the house. Her dad had been out. Rex and Ellie had moved themselves into the den, and Annie was in the kitchen ready to intercept her dad when he came back. A call to his cell had confirmed that he would be there in no more than ten minutes. No one had yet informed him of his special visitor.

Annie heard the garage opener engage and waited for her dad to enter the room through the kitchen door.

"Hi dad," she said.

"Hi baby, how did the interview go? Now, are you going to tell me?" he laughed.

"Yes, dad, I got the job. I am now a private investigator! I still have to get licensed. And, I still have to finish school-three weeks to go with that. But, I am as of today fully employed," she said.

"Wonderful baby! But, I am not surprised. I know Rex will have one great helper in you," he said.

"Yes, he will dad. I intend to be the best."

Harm Carter just smiled. He was so proud of his girl.

"Dad, there's something else. I need you to meet someone," said Annie.

Now, Harm was worried. Did she have a boyfriend? Was he about to meet his future son-in-law?" He wasn't sure how he'd feel about that. But, it was beyond his power to do anything about it, so he said, "Sure Annie, when and where?"

She rose, took his hand, and led him into the den.

He stood in the doorway motionless. A woman: ratty clothes, bags under her eyes, a shrunken body, with short unkempt hair sat on the couch. But, for all of the incongruity, the woman was his ex-wife; it was Ellie Carter.

Tears began to flow from his eyes. "Ellie! My gawd! Ellie. He went to her and wrapped his arms possessively about her shoulders. "Don't you ever leave me again," he said.

She leaned into his shoulder and sobbed, "Harm."

Annie joined them on the couch and wrapped her arms around her parents. They were a family again. The days ahead would take a lot of doing, but that was the future. For now nothing mattered but the touching and the crying and the healing.

Rex smiled. He and Harm would talk later in the week. For the moment, he was done. He'd done his job, and for once it was a happy ending. Well, there were some good days weren't there, he thought. He let himself out.

-----------------------------

   Series:Emily and Danny Lawson
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:He wants to be her cuckold slave—or does he?
 Category:Interracial Love
      URL:http://www.darkwanderer.net/ams/emily-and-danny-lawson.16602/
Published:2022-05-16
I watched Emily look at her image in the full length mirror. She smiled her satisfaction. Whatever happened this night, her life and mine would be changed forever, and hopefully for the better. Was she certain she even wanted to do it" Was I, her husband" In truth, though each of us was excited, we were likewise both nervous as could be.

**

It had all started two weeks ago when I had been called out on the job, I'm a computer hardware specialist; learned the trade in in junior college, and had since taken a number of techie courses to keep me up to snuff in the field. The company I worked for, Wildwood Technologies, paid handsomely for my skills which made it possible for Emily and me to have a nice standard of living. At any rate, I'd left the computer in the den on standby instead of shutting it down, big mistake. When she opened it to get a document on the desktop that she needed, she had been shocked to find what I had left there.

The open page was part of a folder of back and forth emails I had downloaded and saved. Curious, she had begun to read them. Closing the computer two hours later, she was confused and very upset at what she had discovered: that I had fantasies, that I was a closet wimp, a wannabe cuckold; and, that I had been communicating with other husbands, anonymously, who had like fantasies and proclivities.

That night she confronted me. "So how long have you had these fantasies?" said Emily.

"I don't know?" I said, "a long time, I guess." I was shaking in my boots, and it was obvious to her. She actually smirked.

"Since we've been married?" said Emily. "Before?"

"Before," I admitted. "But, they're just fantasies. They're nothing. I was never

going to ask you to do anything, honest," I said.

She was tapping her foot as she watched me. I found it almost impossible to meet her gaze. I was embarrassed, but I was also turned on talking to her about it, a fact more than testified to by the bulge in the front of my pants which she also noticed.

"Really" Then, how about that request for information about that big cuckold fest two weeks from now?" she said, nodding toward the still open page on the desktop.

"I—I don't know. I was just curious about what they do at those things that's all," I said.

We talked for hours, well two. Emily had become intrigued. I had become concerned; I was sweating.

Well, that was two weeks ago, and now we were getting ready to go to the big cuckold fest as she was continuing to call it. I had emailed for information about it, at her insistence, and I had gotten an answer back in two days. It turned out that what it actually was, was a kind of monthly get together where wives and their husbands could come and explore the cuckold lifestyle up close and personal. No pressure was exerted on anyone, or so the e-brochure claimed, but the opportunity for a wife or girlfriend to cuckold her significant other was there if the couple decided it was for them.

I had at first tried to get my wife to believe that I was only interested in the mental side of it. But, after the long discussion alluded to, I had been made to admit that I would like to look into it a bit more. We made the decision to attend.

And so here we were about to leave to go to it. "Ready?" said Emily, taking a deep breath.

"I think so," I said. "But, we're going to stick to our deal, right?"

"Yes, if either of us is uncomfortable about any of it, we will just leave and no more will be said about it," she said.

"Yes, and tonight we do not take our clothes off for any reason," I said, "at least not this first time." I was hedging my bets. Yes, the idea of really doing it was appealing, but I was also more than persuaded that it could also be a threat to our marriage; hence our deal.

"Also agreed," said Emily. "This is nothing more than a little information gathering expedition."

"Okay then, I guess we better go," I said.

The ride to the mansion, where the do was to take place, took over an hour. As we found out, a man named Robert Stahl, a black businessman, had founded the club as he liked to think of it. A millionaire, he'd created the twenty-five room mansion from the shell of a former apartment building. He'd made his money in the soft porn industry, and had parlayed that, through some clever stock buys, into a truly large fortune. The manse, besides the twenty-five rooms alluded to, sported a courtyard, two group gathering halls, a large basement, and other appurtenances.

We were met at the door by a white man liveried like a footman in a bad movie. "May I take your coat, ma'am," said the servant.

"Certainly," said Emily, with more confidence than I know she felt.

I noticed that the man had not asked to help me. "Can I get my coat hung up too?" I said.

"You know what this place is don't you?" asked the man. "Not exactly, first time for us," I said.

"Oh, okay. No, you have to hang it up yourself: over there on the cuck wall," said the servant. I looked and saw what he was pointing to; I went to it and hung up my coat.

Returning to the man and my wife, I asked what I thought was a good question. "My wife and I can go in together, right?" I asked. I was feeling very weird, not nervous, weird.

"Yes, you can, unless she's spoken for by one of the studs and accepts being with him, that is. If she does accept, well, then, I'm afraid, you'll have to adjourn to the basement with the other cuckold husbands; that's what we call cuck country; it's mandatory. A woman who is responsible for taking you there will do so and lock you up while your wife entertains her man." Suddenly I was frightened.

"Lock me up," I said. "The online brochure didn't say anything about that."

"Hmm, it's in there; I'm pretty sure," he said. "In any event, I'm afraid it is expected. It's what we are about here.

"And, just judging by the look of your lady, I'm positive she is going to be claimed pretty quick; I mean if I'm any judge. I mean if she wants to, you know," he said. I nodded.

"Since you folks are newbies, I'm going to get you an escort to kinda show you around and orient you. How's that"

"Oh, and my name is David. I'm a cuckold husband myself. As you might guess, we husbands are required to do the work here on kind of a rotating basis. You will be too," he said to me, "once your lady has made you one of us, and you'vr been initiated. Anyway, it works for us and for the group," he said.

"The escort would be good, David," I said. "But, I'm saying right now that I do not want to be locked up." David just shrugged.

"Definitely, no ball and chain for you dear. I know that would be way too hard for you," echoed Emily, she giggled. "If they really require it, we just won't join, that's all." I felt a little bit better, less apprehensive, with her supporting me.

We made our way into what looked like a large receiving area. Twenty or thirty white couples, and a number of what were apparently black escorts were in evidence. All of the couples were mixing and laughing and sipping cocktails. The black studs were strolling around and smiling and talking to the women; they seemed to be studiously avoiding talking to the husbands, who, however, did not seem to be taking offense at the snubs.

"A glass of wine, honey," I said as we bellied up.

"Yes, please, dear," she said. She was looking around surveying the place.

I placed the order for two glasses of burgundy, paid, and turned to see a man, a white man, coming toward us. The orientor, I thought, as he neared us.

"Hi, I'm Arnold," he said. "You folks are the newbies, correct?"

"Yes, we are thank you," I said. "I'm Danny Lawson and this is my wife Emily."

"Nice to meet you. You have a very lovely wife, Danny. I know she'll like it here. Uh, you will too; I hope," he said. He seemed nice. "Let's have a seat at that table over there, and maybe I can make this an easy introduction for you."

We meandered the twenty feet or so to a table by a large picture window. The view was of the expansive patio area with lots of verdure.

"Let me do a bit of rambling, okay. I can answer most of your questions in one go, and then if you have anything else you'd like to have answered, I will do my best. How's that?" said Arnold. Emily and I both nodded our agreement.

"David mentioned he'd spoken to you about being locked up while your wife is being pleasured. It is a requirement, I'm afraid. But, since this is your first night, and you're just touring—right?" We nodded. "You'll get a bye, that is unless, Emily here decides to indulge herself." He looked to each of us separately and waited to make sure we were all on the same page. Satisfied, he continued.

"Anyway, we always start these affairs with some socializing. We've found that when Candace takes the cucks down to cuck country, that sometimes, really usually, they need a drink or two before they are locked up for the evening. Certainly in the cases of the newbies like you," he said, looking at me. "I admit, it's hard on us husbands at first, but we get used to it. Being caged is kind of a symbol of our submission to our wives and their lovers. We're cuckolds after all, really our wives' and their lovers' slaves. Am I making any sense?"

We both nodded. "Sure," I said. "But, I just don't feel comfortable…"

"I understand, but it is a requirement locking up the hubbies. But, if it is something you just can't do. Well, at least it's been nice to meet you folks—sincerely.

"Anyway, like I say we're into the cuckold lifestyle here. I'm sure you know that or you wouldn't be here. The wives are in charge, indirectly at least; Mr. Stahl owns everything, but he does nothing to interfere with the festivities, if you get my drift. He's in Europe right now on business, but the time may come when you meet him. He's very nice.

"The black studs, are all invitees, and none are pros. They are here to fuck your wife, Daniel, make no mistake. And, like I say, while they do her, you will be cloistered with the other cucks in cages in the basement. We do allow the cucks to play with each other, so long that is as their wives give their consent. In cases like that the wives of the cucks see to it that their husbands are locked up in pairs. Sometimes they even come down with their lovers to watch their husbands do each other; it's a very large kick for the wives, believe me," he said. "There are few things funnier to a woman than watching her husband grunting and growling as he gets it in the butt. And, the cuckolds know it and do their best to entertain their women while they're getting it."

"I'm not sure… " I started. My stomach was doing flip flops.

"Mister, Arnold?" broke in Emily.

"Mason, Arnold Mason, ma'am," he said.

"Yes, well, my husband and I are equal partners. I, we're, not into that kind of…"

"Emily, please, allow me. Your husband Danny here, is here because he wants to be cuckolded by his very beautiful wife. A bit later, one of the other ladies will take you aside and give you some tips and let you in on what you will need to know to train Danny. Trust me, Danny wants you to have your cake and eat it too so to speak. Don't you, Danny?" said Arnold.

I was definitely a deer in the headlights. "Uh, uh, I do want her to be happy, but this is all so new. We really kinda want to go slow at first, you know, see how it suits us," I said.

"Yes, of course," he said.

"Well, if there are no more questions?" said mister Arnold.

We thanked him, me a little less enthusiastically than my wife. Then we sat and talked for a few minutes before a large black man with a huge smile and a noticeable bulge in the front of his jeans approached us. "Hi," he said. "May I?" Indicating that he would like to join us.

"Certainly," said my wife. I looked daggers at her. She just raised an eyebrow to silence me. For the next twenty minutes the two of them talked virtually ignoring me, even when I made a comment that seemed called for.

It turned out that his name was Jackson Cord. He seemed nice, okay, and more than interested in my woman. I was beginning to get cold feet. But, I wasn't quite ready to call it a night.

A tall woman with an equally tall gentleman on her arm came up to Emily. "Excuse me, but are you the Lawsons?"

"Yes, we are," said Emily.

"I'm Candace Bergson. I have been tasked with filling you in. Emily isn't it?"

"Yes, and thank you. We are on an information gathering mission tonight. Anything you can tell us will be appreciated," said Emily. At that point Jackson and Candace's escort excused themselves and wandered off.

"Well, this is for your ears only, Emily, I'm afraid. But you can tell your husband about what I tell you when you feel the need or want to. There is good reason for you to be the one to learn what I have to tell you first, really," she said.

"Okay, honey?" said Emily looking at me with cow eyes.

"Sure, I guess," I said. I'll just head on over to the bar and get me some reinforcement."

"Yes, dear, do that," said Emily.

I watched the two of them from the bar. I waited for the high sign from Emily to invite my return. The conversation evidently started slow. But then it got animated. More than once Emily's hand came up to her mouth indicating shock or surprise, I couldn't tell which. On at least two occasions I saw her giggle. I was becoming concerned. Yes, the whole gig was ultimately my fault, but I was becoming more and more against the whole thing. I wanted to leave. I got my wish.

Emily gave the signal for me to return. I did. I returned to the table, and took my seat. Candace smiled at me, rose, and left.

"Honey," I said. "I want to go. I'm feeling uncomfortable." She gave me a look of mild concern.

"Okay, Dan, if you want. We're only here for the info anyway, and I think we've learned a lot already," she said.

We said our goodbyes to Candace and David, the latter, who had seen us coming, had retrieved Emily's coat. I got mine, and we left. I couldn't help but feel the stares of half a dozen studs follow my wife as we exited the premises and got to our car; I shivered, she noticed. The drive home was initially silent, but about halfway into the hour drive I looked over at her. She seemed lost in thought.

"I want to do it," she said.

"I don't," I said. "It's too much."

"I thought you might be feeling that way," she said. "But, before we make a decision we'll talk. Okay?"

"Talk yes, but I don't like it, Em. It is too scary. I'm afraid?"

"There's nothing to be afraid of," she said. "It's just a place to play. Candace really laid it on me in that half hour or so that we talked. I understand better now how to do this and what it's all about. Again, there is nothing to be afraid of. Even locking you up in a cage isn't that big a deal; it'll heighten your cuck experience is all. Candace told me all newbies are afraid of that at first; it is very humiliating, and yes, scary. But, isn't that part of it after all, I mean I've read a lot of your emails and web stories. Hubbies who need to be cuckolded are actually turned on by the humiliation and the denial. Right?"

"Yes, I suppose, but Emily, I'm afraid of losing you to some guy from this sex club. I am not willing to risk that. Not now, not ever," I said.

For the first time she looked at me with real concern in her eyes. I caught it.

"Yes, I'm not ashamed to say it. I think that if we do this it will be the end of us. I love you too much to risk that," I said.

"Danny, whether we do this or not, there is absolutely no chance that you will ever lose me. Not to any of those black studs, not to anyone, ever. Honest," she said.

I was not convinced.

**

For several days neither of us had too much to say about our little foray at the mansion. But, by Thursday night of the following week, I guess Emily figured that enough time had elapsed that she could bring up the subject and reason with me.

"Danny we need to talk," she said. She didn't have to tell me what the talk was going to be about. It was written all over her. What had been my fantasy and was no longer, was now hers.

I just nodded. "As I mentioned that night in the car, Danny, I want to do it. I want to cuckold you."

"I can't do it, Em'. I just can't. I'm afraid," I said.

"Danny, you don't have to go. It would be better if you did. I really need to have you near me; to make me feel safe. But, if I have to go a few times by myself to make you feel safer; that's okay too," she said.

"Are you saying that you don't care what I think or need; that you are going to do it whether I'm on board or not" Is that what you're saying, Emily!" I said.

"Danny, I do care what you want and need. But, you need to care about what I want to. I have to do this. I have to do it for me and for us. Are you going to hear me out, or are you just going to shut me down." I nodded for her to go on, but tears were beginning to creep into the corners of my eyes. She wiped them away with her hand.

"My talk with Candace opened my eyes to how I have to treat you, and how to make this work for both of us. I promise to bring you along gently, my gentle man," she said. "I know you are very fragile right now. Candace told me you would be. She knew you'd be afraid. Everything she said is coming true just like she said it would.

"What she also told me was how to build your trust in me. How to get you to love what we'll be doing. And, it will be we, not just me fucking other men. We'll both be having fun; you'll see. Some of the things we'll be doing are a little shocking, and frankly, you aren't ready for all of them yet, but other things we can do right now to build your confidence and feelings of safety. I just hope you'll give me a chance. Will you?" She was pleading.

"You haven't answered my question," I said.

"My answer is that if you really don't want me to, then I will honor your wishes and not do it. I'll be mortally disappointed, but I will not go against you if you feel that strongly." I had the feeling that she knew how I would react to her words. But, I was powerless to say or do otherwise.

"Okay then, we'll go once. If it works out okay, we'll go again. But, if I say to stop, we stop. Do you agree?" I said.

"Yes, my darling man. And, I have some presents for you. I bought them this week hoping you'd agree to go with me. I'm glad I didn't waste my money," she said giggling. "But, right now I need you to make love to me." She'd said it like she was scolding me. "Take me right here in the kitchen my husband. Take me now."

She stood and began to take off her clothes. Soon she was naked and I noted that her pussy was shaved bare; that was new. I wondered if it was for me. I was out of my clothes in nanoseconds or so it seemed. We stood in front of each other and just looked into each other's eyes. I reached out and took her breast in my hand and leaned in to suckle on its nipple.

I went to my knees and licked her bare and beautiful mound, her slit and then nibbled on her clit as she spread her legs a little to accommodate me. I turned her around and kissed her butt. I spread her crack and licked her anus doing my best to force my tongue deep inside of her. She bent over and braced herself on the sink.

"That's it baby, suck my anus now. Suck it like my good little cucky to be." And I did.

Done, I stood and rammed my pole into her pussy and hammered her hard for some minutes. She stiffened. She screamed and shuddered in as powerful an orgasm as she had ever had engulfed her. I emptied my load into her. She relaxed and kind of sagged into the counter.

"Take your little cucky to be to bed, darling. I need to cuddle," I said. She did. She led me by my now limp penis into the bedroom, and we lay down together. It was good.

It was Saturday morning before the events of the previous Thursday were brought up again. Oh, and I still hadn't gotten my promised presents.

**

The sun is my alarm clock, always had been. It didn't fail me now. I got up, stretched, headed for the bathroom and got myself in order. Dressed in khakis and flip-flops, I headed downstairs. I could smell the bacon and the coffee.

"Mornin'," she said greeting me. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, very well, but I am exhausted," I said. "But don't worry, I'll be good for an encore tonight." I smiled the smile of an overly indulged Cheshire cat.

"Honey?"

Her tone was not conducive to making me feel good. "Yes, What?" I said, becoming suspicious. I could see she was nervous. I frowned.

"Last night, well, last night will be it I'm afraid for a while. I need to get you really horny. Can you understand that" I mean it's for your own good. Really. Candace told me how to do this. I mean, okay" I mean so we can cultivate this new cuckold lifestyle."

She must've realized what a crushing effect her words were having on me. One clue might have been the fact that my lower jaw was no more than three inches from the surface of the floor. "How long?" It was all I could manage to say. I said it so quietly that I think it shook her.

"Just until the next do," she said.

"Three weeks! I screamed. She stumbled backwards into the sink. So last night was just a come on, is that it! A little mercy for good 'ole cucky," I was furious at being used, as I saw it. Taken advantage of. Fooled. Whatever it was that she was trying to do.

"I'm invoking our agreement. It's over. And we will have sex tonight or I'm moving out today," I said.

"Danny, you don't mean it. I mean, I thought we had an arrangement. I thought you understood."

"Fuck you! I said. "You go to your dirty little party. Hell, party every day, every night. I'm the fuck outta here." I looked at the bacon and eggs that were already on the table. I picked up each of the platters and threw them as hard as I could against the wall. The broken dishware and food mess splattered everywhere. I didn't give a fuck; I wasn't going to be around to clean it up. Fuck her and Jackson and Candace and the whole lot of them. I was done with it.

"Danny! Wait! Please Danny Please!" She was screaming her words at my back I was already halfway up the stairs before she could get out of the kitchen.

I began packing as soon as I hit the room. I pulled out two large suitcases and threw everything I could see that was mine into them. Amazing that after twenty years of marriage, that I had so little, really, that was important enough to take with me. Done, I looked around. I could hear her sobbing in the hallway. She knew better than to interrupt me in the room. I looked around one last time. I saw our wedding picture sitting on the end table. I picked it and the two bags up and went into the hallway. She was three feet from the door and leaning back against the wall. I put my bags down for a moment. She cowered shrinking down closer to the floor. I held the wedding picture up for her to see.

"Remember this" It was the one we thought was the best. You said you thought it held the promise of our future together. Of our love for each other." I laid it on my palm and with all of the strength I had I smashed it against the wall. My hand became a bleeding mess as the glass from the frame tore into my flesh. I didn't even notice it. I picked up the two bags and stormed out.

"Daannyy!" she wailed. "I'm sorry. I take it back?" I wasn't listening. I threw the bags in the back of my pickup and peeled rubber leaving.

I found myself in the Roundhouse, my favorite bar. The adrenalin was flowing. I was dangerously angry, but I was quiet. I kept thinking about how wonderful the sex had been the night before. Spontaneous and wonderful. Then, this morning, she had dashed all of my illusions; it had not been spontaneous; it had been a set up. I had never been so low, as I was at this moment, and I had never been so filled with anger.

In the entire twenty years of our marriage we had rarely gone three days without sex. Now, she expected me to go three weeks! Fat fucking chance! What I needed now was a helluva lot more firewater, and, a woman. Well, I had half of what I needed.

I don't know how she knew where to come, but two hours, three doubles, and a couple of beer chasers into my misery she slid onto the stool next to mine.

"Buy me a drink, sailor?" said Candace.

I looked at her with what had to have been a shocked expression to anyone within visual range. "What the fuck do you want" You're my wife's pal not mine. Get lost," I said, as brutally as I could.

"I'll take that as a no. Barkeep, can I have gin and tonic, please?" she said. "Boy, Emily didn't exaggerate, did she," said Candace.

"You still here?" I said coldly.

"Yes, well, it is a public place. Look, Danny, I gave Emily the advice that I thought would be the most useful to you guys starting out. I guess I was wrong. You weren't ready to be denied her pussy. I am so sorry for fucking things up for you two. Please how can I set this right" I need to set it right," she said.

"You need! You need to fuck off. I will never stay married to a woman who denies me sex, let alone love. My marriage is history. Find someone else and fuck up their life. Mine's already in the shitter."

"Danny, I need you to hear what I'm saying. I will do whatever it takes to get you two back together. I take full responsibility for your fight with Emily. That woman loves you, no matter what you believe right now, and she was trying to prove it to you. What you two were about to embark on is a really fun lifestyle. You were almost there. You just needed a little guidance; I gave you guys the wrong kind; it's my fault. I tried to give guidance to Emily, but I analyzed the situation wrongly. Usually, I'm right on, no brag just fact, but this time I really messed up. Please forgive me, 'kay?"

"Do you know what she told me" Do you! She told me I was getting no more sex until the party next month! Three fucking weeks and no sex. Lady, that ain't happening. No sex" No way!" I said.

"That was just to make you horny for the big night. Really your first night as it were. New cuckolds need to be on the edge horny-wise. Did she tell you about your presents?" said Candace.

"Yes, heard but haven't seen. Don't know what they are. Don't wanna know. I'm done with this fantasy shit. You can tell her that. She can play her games with someone else. Like I said, I'm history," I said.

"Danny, that woman loves you and only you. You have to go back and start over. It is your fantasy, isn't it" You still need that. I, and I mean I, just went about it wrong when I told Emily how she might want to proceed. You weren't ready. You would have liked it, but you weren't ready for denial of any kind, let alone denial of sex. I had thought you were. I really am sorry," she said.

"I can't go back. I burned my bridges with her. If I went back she'd treat me like dirt, and then it would be even worse than it is now. I can't go back," I said.

She smiled at me. "Danny, why do you think I'm here" I can't read minds. Emily called me, begged me, to tell her what to do. Of course my answer was to come here myself and try to mediate this disaster before it got out of hand."

"What are you saying, Candace" You saying she wants me back" I mean on my terms?" I said.

"I'm saying exactly that," she said.

I watched her as she stirred her drink. She was thinking, trying to figure how to phrase her next words.

"Danny your terms. But, if you want the lifestyle that I think you do, you'll want to obey her, but only because you want to not because you have to. Jesus, I hope I said that right," she said.

"You're saying that I have the final say in this shit. Is that right?" I said.

"Yes, and you don't have to accept being denied sex with your wife. You should want to try though. You need to let her help you stay celibate for the next few weeks. The best experience for you cuckies comes when you're really really horny. So, you should want to be totally celibate, no cumming between now and the party night. But, like I say, you can beg off if you want; that's the real deal; Emily told me.

"But, again, I must add the best cuck experience comes when the cucky is under his wife's thumb. I know you've read enough stories and articles to know that.

"The problem always arises when the husband, the cuck, is afraid of losing his wife, or of being humiliated beyond his ability to endure it. I think that that is part of why you came apart like you did when she mentioned cutting you off for the next three weeks.

"I think that the solution for you guys is to let you decide if you can handle it. And then, well, to let you try, or not if that's how you want it. Your wife will encourage you, help you, to succeed; so that you can get the full experience three weeks from now," said Candace.

I was mulling over what she said. I was still angry, but the anger was ebbing. "And, if I go back now I won't be stepping into a bad situation?" I said.

"Absolutely not," said Candace. "I can tell you totally without fear of contradiction that Emily is home right now biting her fingernails hoping I will succeed here."

"Okay then, I'll go back. She and I will talk. I'm not saying I will accept any of this.

She better know it; and I'm not kidding," I said, firing the final salvo in the debate.

Candace smiled. She leaned in and kissed me. "Don't forget to ask for your presents." With that we said our goodbyes and she was gone.

**

I sat in my car in our driveway for some minutes before getting the courage to get out and go into the house. She was waiting at the kitchen table.

She was actually shaking. "Hello, Emily," I said, not beating around the bush. "Candace talked to me. You knew that of course?"

"Oh good," said Emily. "Yes, I knew. I asked her to, actually.

"Danny, I don't know what she told you. But, whatever she told you I'm glad you're here. I will do whatever you want, honey. Anything. Really," she said.

I leaned back against the sink and spread my arms wide for her to come to me. She flew into them sobbing her heart out. I held her. "Tomorrow we talk," I said. "But, for now, just know that I love you. I do not want to lose you, and I am afraid, Em'. I'm afraid. Can you understand that?"

"I know, you silly man. I know. But losing me is absolutely the last thing that will happen before the end of the world." We talked long, but celibacy was not mentioned. Nothing was mentioned about the party. I had said we would talk about it tomorrow, and she did not challenge me, a good sign.

Later, we went to bed and fucked like bunnies. Again, no mention was made about my being denied sex. And yet again, I knew that tomorrow, I would be talking to my wife about just that, but tonight I was getting my way. I hadn't done it, screwed her, consciously to make a point. No, our fucking had been a kind of make up thing.

We were once again seated at the kitchen table. I was stirring my morning coffee, which was strange, because I drank mine black no sugar. "Candace told me some things," I began. "First of all, where's all of these fancy presents I supposedly have coming," I said. I saw fear pass across my wife's face.

"What?" I said. "Candace told me to ask. Your look tells me you don't want me to ask. So, what?"

"No, it's just that…"

"Just what" What am I missing?" I said.

"Well, honey, they're cucky presents," said Emily. "I mean only a cuckold would want to know about them, want to have them. I do not want to upset you with them. My God! I do not want to upset you by giving them to you!"

"I see," I said. "Let me ease your mind. Candace said you'd be good with it if I didn't want to do the cucky scene. Or, if I did, that we would back out on a moment's notice if I decided I couldn't handle it after trying. Just like we agreed before. You really and truly good with that" Because it is more than highly likely that I'm going to want us to back out of it; I can tell you that right now" Frankly, as I told you before, I am scared peeless about the whole scene. But, that said, I am willing to try at least once."

"Yes. Yes Danny, I am good with everything you say" she said. "But for me to give you these kinds of presents, you have to want to be my cuckold or there is no point to it. Do you want to be my cuckold, Danny" It's okay if you don't, but I just need to know. I'm so confused. And—I'm scared too if you want to know."

"I think that I do, if I can have the safety net of being able to pull us out on a moment's notice," I said. I had thought long and hard about the whole scene while sleeping not at all the night before. Now, I was putting it out there with no sugar coating. I guessed we'd see.

"Okay, then," she said. "Wait here for a moment. I'll be right back."

She was gone for no more than two minutes. She was carrying a small gym bag. She also had a dowel, maybe three feet or less long. It was very thin, maybe a quarter-inch and it was wrapped very carefully in black electrical tape. I was very curious about the dowel.

She set the gym bag down. She was crying, not sobbing, but crying. I think she was afraid. "Danny, I don't know if we should go any farther here. I think we're fine without any of this. I know I can live without the cuckolding thing if you can. There is no need for us to do this."

I was conflicted. Being her cuckold had long been my fantasy, but my terror at the possibility of losing her to some stud bull had gotten in the way. But, deep down the fantasy still held me in thrall.

Candace had finally been able to convince me that so long as I really did have ultimate control that living the reality of the fantasy was going to be good. Of course, had I known at that moment the consequences of my decision, and how they would unfold over the next months, the decison we were making now, I likely would never have wanted to find out what was in that bag. But, fool that I was, I had to know, and so I signaled her to carry on.

I looked at her there in her pink day dress, low cut in the front and maybe two inches above her knee. Her brown hair was all fluffed out and curly as it billowed out around her face. I noticed too that she was wearing low heels, maybe two- inchers, and that her makeup, though somewhat understated, had been touched up. It occurred to me that she looked awfully sexy for a woman who was worried, however vaguely, about losing her marriage. The way she was dressed, it was, it was to titillate me. She wanted me turned on. It didn't seem to be exactly a set up, but I had to wonder if the way she looked had been Candace' idea. I'd have bet the pink slip to my pickup that it had been.

She unzipped the bag and pulled out a small box. "This was supposed to keep you celibate for the time between parties," she said. "But we don't have to use it at all. But, you wanted to see this stuff. So anyway?" She handed me the box. She smiled a little bit; I think she was giggling now, inside, and trying to hide it.

I took the box and opened it. It was a small plastic tube and a couple of rings and some other parts. There was a small padlock and a couple of keys obviously made for it. I looked up at her. I knew what it probably was. She was smiling broadly now.

"Well, you asked, honey. But, I know you won't want to be wearing it. I mean I know you won't want to be denied sex at all. I completely understand," she said. "It was just an idea, at the time, to keep you horny, that's all."

"What else is in there?" I said, not commenting on the cock cage for the moment. I could feel my hardness betraying my calm demeanor.

"Honey, we don't have to do any more of this, really," she said.

"Now, Emily, you know damn well that you are going to show me the rest of what's in that bag; so let's stop fucking around and get to it, all right?" I said, trying not to seem too excited. She did giggle now, and the mood in the room became more relaxed.

She pulled out a stack of what had to have been a dozen or so pairs of female panties, all different colors and all frilly and girlish.

I looked at her questioningly. "Those are for you. Why are you showing them to me with my gifts," I asked.

"They're for you, dear. For you to dress like my little cuckold sissy," she said. "They're kind of a uniform for cuckolds." She couldn't help but laugh at my obvious consternation. "Don't be so shocked, dear, husbands in your internet stories wear them. It, it, well, it adds to their voluntary humiliation, especially when the girls at the mansion pants them in front of their bulls."

"What else is in there?" I said.

"Nothing else," she said, "that's all."

"What's that for?" I asked, pointing to the dowel.

"It's a switch, of course, honey," she said.

"Huh?"

"To, well, well to spank you with. You know as part of the cuckold scene. You bentover the back of the couch or something getting your just punishment," she said smiling. "Candace told me of how sometimes men are condemned at Mr. Stahl's house and they are publicly spanked so everyone there can see and laugh at them. Part of the scene that's all. I mean wives and other girls spanking their husbands publicly like that."

I stood up. Went to her. Yanked her to her feet. Led her to the back of the couch she was sitting on and bent her over it. I pulled up her dress and slowly peeled down her panties. I dropped my own pants and without a further word pushed into her. I fucked her for some minutes finally cumming. She had two small orgasms while I was doing her.

I pulled out of her and ordered her to turn around and get down on her knees. She looked at me kind of funny, but did as I asked. "Get me hard again," I said. She did, her mouth alternately teasing and sucking me to a fierce hardness. She sucked me a long time. Finally, I exploded into her mouth. She drank it all.

"Okay," I said, as my penis shrank to a tenth the size it had been but a short time before, "put it on me."

"Huh?"

"Lock up my penis, Emily, before it grows too big to fit inside of the tube," I said. "You mean?"

"Yes, that screwing and that blow job we just shared will have to do me until the night of the next party," I said. "Remember, no arguments about me needing sex when I need it. But, I will try to last till then."

She immediately got the small box, into which I had returned the contents. She wiped my penis dry with a tissue she'd pulled from the box on the end table. Ready, she pulled the tube out of its box and slipped it over my penis. I was so emptied of sauce that she had no trouble. She tugged a little on my glans as they began to poke out the end. Then, she attached the rings that looped around my balls and hitched it together to the tube via a couple of elongated metal pins, finally padlocking the device into place. The device itself was stainless steel. It wasn't coming off without the key. I was celibate until she let me out.

She looked up at me. "Are you sure, Danny" I mean we really don't need to do this. We put it on, and we can take it off right now if you're scared," she said.

"No, no. I'm okay. At least I think I am. Just remember our deal. If I say it's over?"

"Yes, and I am good with that. But it is kinda exciting, huh?" she said. "You are going to be one horny fella by the time the party comes around party."

"For damn sure," I said. I think she giggled for half an hour.

Again, we, the cucks, did have our hands or each other, while we were at the mansion, but that was it. We were all cuckolds or about to become cuckolds, as in my case, and we were going to be treated as such; and we were expected to act like it. And, yes, I was wearing a pair of frilly lavender panties under my clothes. Emily could hardly contain her laughter when she'd put them on me.

"Are you okay, honey?" said Emily. "If you feel at all bad let me know, and we're out of here. I mean it. This has to be good for both of us or it's a no go." Her words made me feel a little less apprehensive.

"I'm okay," I said. "I will let you know if things get too hairy for me. Don't worry. You have fun." I said this last with some misgivings. I was still worried that someone would try to steal my wife from me. That was the one intolerable fly in the ointment.

She smiled at me. "Let's go to the bar and have a glass of wine. Kinda watch the goings and comings for a little bit. Okay?" she said. I nodded and we headed for the bar.

A white man, obviously a cuck served us; he was wearing a collar with a woman's name on it. I was looking at it, and Emily smiled.

"Once you've been cuckolded, dear, you get to wear one too. It identifies you as my property." She laughed. "It's something new that they just started tonight. Candace called me yesterday to see if we were coming. She told me about it. You get the collar and they have a guy who burns the name of the guy's owner on it." I swallowed. It seemed as though there was no end to the ways a cuckold could be humiliated.

I paid the barman and we sipped the red elixir slowly, neither of us caring to get sloshed. We were here for another reason, and it had little to do with alcohol. Ten minutes later her patience, or maybe it was mine, was rewarded.

"Hi. Emily isn't it?" said Jackson. He didn't even look at me. But he was all smiles and conviviality for Emily.

"Hi," said my wife. "Yes, I'm Emily. I remember meeting you the last time we were here. You remember my husband, don't you?" She indicated me by putting a loose hand on my shoulder.

"Uh, sure," said Jackson. He nodded to me and then, in a most practiced and unmistakable way, went out of his way to ignore me.

"As I recall, Emily, the last time you were here, you were cruising and checking the place out. Now you're back, are you here for some fun this time?" he said.

She looked at me one last time seeking my silent okay. I smiled at her and took a sip of my wine. She looked back at the tall, well built, black man. "Yes, I think so," she said. He offered her his arm. They wandered off together leaving me abandoned and alone; but, as it happened not for long.

"I see Jackson has commandeered your wife," said the voice from behind me.

"Candace! You startled me," I said. "Uh, yes, I guess it's going to happen to me tonight. I'm going to be a cuckold for real. But, I don't know, I feel kind of weird, maybe even a little afraid still."

"I figured. That's why I came over. You know, to kinda hold your hand while he fucks her. Don't worry, she'll love you twice as much for allowing her this moment of excitement," said Candace. "Buy a girl a drink?"

"Sure," I said. I felt lots better with Candace standing there figuratively holding my hand. I needed the reassurance more than I had thought that I would.

"You know, Danny, when your wife comes back to collar you, I really will need to take you down to cuck country. That's where you'll belong then; it really is required. I will be the one locking you up," she said. "Okay?" I nodded.

"I can even lock you up with another cucky if you want. You may need it. You can give each other handjobs if you want, but Emily will have to okay it of course when she returns for you."

"She already has okayed it, at least to me," I said. "And, I guess I would like the company, and maybe the help, I suppose."I knew I was turning beet red.

"Don't be embarrassed. Your feelings are perfectly natural given how horny you must be," said Candace.

"I am that," I said.

She raised her eyebrows and giggled.

"Candace, thank you. You've been a big help," I said. "I'll go down where I belong, when she comes to get me, I mean willingly.

"Oh, by the way. She did give me my presents. They, the presents were kind of a shock, but I accepted them as my lot."

She smiled. "I would love to watch you getting it in the butt. But, right now we have something we have to do," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

**

"You and your husband really into the scene?" said Jackson.

"We're a little nervous. He more than me, but as to that, I'm pretty nervous too," said Emily.

"Understandable, but not really anything to be afraid of," said Jackson. "I've been to a hundred of these. The women get what they need, and the men get theirs, no more no less. Down the line it sometimes gets a little more problematic at least for the cuckolds," he said.

She eyed him. "More problematic?" she said.

"Well, yes. Once they've been introduced to the full extent of their roles as cuckolds; well, sometimes, at least early on, cucks can be real horses' asses. You know, crushed egos, the public humiliation; and worst of all, well, the jealousy. That's why, here at the mansion, we go slow; kinda lead them, guide them, to the place they need to be, I mean the men. You know, so that their wives can enjoy themselves without the guilt trips or the pressure that could raise their ugly heads," said Jackson.

"Interesting, sounds well organized, maybe less threatening is the term. And, if that's the case, I'm glad because my husband sounds like he is typical of the sort you describe. He is, frankly, very skittish right now. We almost decided not to come. But, in the end, we were able to work through his objections," said Emily.

They'd been walking slowly toward a small niche in the wall where a man, probably Mexican, had a little shop of sorts.

"Here we are," said Jackson. She looked at him quizzically. "Here?" she said.

"Yes. Emily, this is Juan. He'll burn your name into a collar for your hubby. You know, for when we go back to fetch him; it's a new requirement here; I mean if you're still interested in cuckolding him tonight," said Jackson. She smiled up at the big black and nodded her okay.

"Juan, a collar for the lady's husband," said Jackson. "Name's Emily." Juan smiled.

"You are a very pretty senorita, miss Emily. Mister Jackson knows what a women needs. Your husband can be proud to be cuckolded by him; and by you of course," he said. Emily beamed.

"Pink or blue?" said the man. "Huh?"

"Pink or blue," said the man."Pink if you decide he is to be treated as the female by other cucks in cuck country. Blue if you prefer he should be—well—the male in the stuff they do with each other," he said. She looked at Jackson.

"It's up to you," said Jackson. "You know your husband better than anyone." She went pensive for a moment. She was remembering back to her conversations with her man early on, after she had discovered his proclivities. She smiled; she'd made her decision.

"Pink," she said. Jackson smiled but said nothing. They waited for the two minutes it took to emblazon her name on the two-inch wide collar. The man handed it to her.

"Oh, and don't forget this," said Juan. He handed her the small but formidable looking padlock he'd plucked from the small bucket to the left of the counter. She looked askance at him.

"To lock the collar on him," said the man. She took in a breath and smiled her understanding.

"Okay, thank you," she said. The couple headed for a small satellite bar just outside the expansive patio of the mansion. They ordered drinks and took seats at a small two-person table.

"You'll have to go get him in a few minutes," he said.

"I know. I'm a little bit nervous. It's our—his—first time. The humiliation he's going to feel—I just don't know," she said.

"He'll be okay. Just make sure you let him know how much you appreciate his sacrifice. Assure him that his needs will also be attended to," said Jackson. She noticed his not quite benevolent smile. It was almost, what, something.

They talked for a few more minutes. Their drinks downed; the man waited for her to take the initiative.

"I guess, I better go get him," she said.

"It is his time," said Jackson.

**

"Here comes your wife now, Danny. Just be calm; it'll be all right. She has to pants you and put your collar on you. You are wearing your uniform, right?" she said.

I must have turned three shades of crimson. "Uh, yes," I said. "You mean here and now. In front of everybody. She's gonna pants me?"

"Uh huh. It's your lot, Danny."

I swallowed and stared at her hard as she approached. Somehow, right up to that second, I had clung to the hope that my wife would find another way to cuckold me. But, the look in her eyes as she came up to me dashed any such feeble hope.

"Hi honey," she said. She spoke softly. Her smile was kindly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sure, I guess so," I said. She just continued to smile. My gaze travelled down to her side where she clutched a pink leather collar in her right hand. She appeared to be waiting for me to give her the go ahead to do what she had to do. Mercifully, her stud, Jackson, had hung back; he stood just inside the doorway, maybe thirty feet away.

I gathered whatever little smidgen of courage that I had and addressed her. "Is it time?" I said. She nodded slowly.

"Yes, my husband. It is. Are we okay" I mean you know… " My turn to nod.

"Hold this for me while I pull your pants down, Dan. Please." She handed me the collar to hold.

Kneeling in front of me, She undid my belt and the button at the front of my pants. Then, looking up into my eyes; she took hold of my zipper and slowly pulled it down following which, equally slowly, she pulled my pants down exposing to the view of all, my lavender panties and my hardened, if not actually imposing male flesh that my panties inadequately concealed. She gazed with satisfaction at my erection.

"Excited to become my cuckold, honey?" she said. She still sounded nervous, tentative. I swallowed yet again.

"I think so," I said. With my pants still at my ankles, she stood. She reached for the collar which I still held and took it from me. Gently she encircled my neck with it and closed the clasp. Holding the padlock up and in front of her breasts, she motioned me to bend forward a little. I did so, and she snapped the padlock onto my collar securing me.

"Kick off your shoes and step out of your trousers, honey," she said. I did so. Candace who had been watching from a few feet behind me, came forward. She smiled at me and attached a leash to the padlock that secured the collar.

"Let's go, Danny, it's time for you to meet you cell mate," she said. She turned and pulled me along behind her by my leash. I turned back to see my wife walking away from me arm in arm with her lover of the evening. She never looked back. Had she, she could not have missed the jealousy that had to be painted on my face and which was consuming me. I would be her cucky tonight; we were committed, but we were going to be talking. I couldn't do this, not long term.

**

The room was but dimly lighted. He took her in his arms and kissed her, gently, but manly. She felt his power. She also felt his dick pressing against her lower belly. She pushed him back a bit and looked at him. His arms hung by his sides. He was in no hurry. This was going to take a while; he'd promised himself that.

"Nice," she said. "Nice."

"Thanks," he said, smiling.

"Can I tell you something?" said Jackson. She looked him askance. "Sure," she said.

"Emily, I've been through this many times. I know, pretty much, how you're feeling right now. What you want, expect. I also know what your husband is going through; I mean him becoming your cuckold, the jealousy, humiliation, all of it.

"Lots of the time, the ladies go through a period of buyer's remorse. They want a good screwing, and you're going to get it tonight, trust me on that one, but they almost always feel sorry for the husbands, at least initially, and so they often deny themselves true pleasure in the beginning."

"Danny and I have talked about that, Jackson. He's good. I'm good. It was his idea, actually. One I've bought into, but it was his idea originally."

The man smiled. "It's almost always initially the man's idea, Emily. And, regardless, tomorrow morning when you take him home, he's going to tell you, no more. It's over. You're going to argue with him; and eventually you'll settle it between you one way or the other," he said.

"But…?" she started.

"If you are kind to him, treat him—well—kinda like a little boy; you'll be able to control the situation: I mean his needs and your needs. If you lay ultimatums on him, it won't change his mind, and he might even leave you," said Jackson.

"Okay," she said. "Treat him good. I can do that."

"Yes, and little by little you can lead him to being a true cuckold. Not just the newbie that he's going to be for a while," he said.

"A true cuckold," she said.

"Yes. For example, a true cuck never has sex with a woman. He's condemned to be a kind of uncastrated eunuch for the rest of his life. He gets to eat you out, of course, clean up your lovers' leavings. He can help you dress, bathe you, that sort of thing. But, in the end he's a namby-pamby, a sissy, and quite literally your slave. And, he'll love you for the opportunity to serve you. Literally get down on his knees and kiss your feet every day in gratitude. But, these things happen, only if you bring him along slowly and without hurting him emotionally. It's a very delicate balance you have to achieve. Understand?" said Jackson.

"Wow, I think so," she said. "But, I'm not sure I want my husband to be a true cuck. It's all a little too over the top. I mean, well, we'll just have to see, I guess."

"And, that's a true fact," said Jackson.

**

We descended the stairs into the spacious basement. There were a dozen cages lining the walls around the room's perimeter. Each of them had a number welded onto its cage door. The doors were no more than two foot square. Anyone condemned to them had to get down on their knees to crawl inside.

This is yours, Danny," said Candace. "Kneel down." She keyed the padlock as I followed her instructions. She undid my leash and nudged me through the small opening and waited till I turned around to watch her snap the heavy padlock tight once more. The man in the back of the cage was naked, he wore blue panties.

"Candace…?"

"Don't worry, Danny. You'll be let out when your lady is done. Her room number is three, same as your cage here. There is a video feed to her room so she and Jackson can dial up any of the cages numbers, including yours, and watch what's happening if they so desire. If you and your cellmate there put on a good enough show; the two of them might actually come down and watch you in the flesh," she said. I swallowed. This was scary. I didn't feel in danger, actually, but I did feel—what—helpless maybe.

I watched Candace leave. I turned to see my cellmate. "My name's Paul," he said, "Paul Carton."

"Danny," I said, "Danny Lawson.

"We seem to be expected to perform," he said. "You interested" Ever done it with a man?"

"No, never done it with a man. As for being interested, maybe later. I don't know," I said.

"No problem," he said. "No pressure. I've done it a couple of times. My wife likes to watch me get it and give it. Says it turns her on like nothing else. And if I do it for her; well, I get to have her when we get home. You might say it's a hell of an incentive."

"Yeah, I guess that's so," I said.

"You're wearing a pick collar," he said, smiling. I nodded.

"That means your wife—the wife—wants her husband to be the, well, the girl, if you know what I mean," he said. I looked him askance.

"Wives have the option of watching their husband getting it or do the giving. You know in the butt. But, no one forces anyone here. It's up to the individual husband to agree or not. If you decide you want to get it for your wife's enjoyment, you don't have to say anything. Just assume the position and spread your legs wide enough for me to do you. Oh, and I do have KY with me, just in case," he said. I nodded. I was feeling very warm and very uncomfortable.

"You say your wife likes to watch you both give and get," I said. He nodded.

"Yes, each time can be different. Depends on the woman; we cuckolds have no say. The collars are a new thing, but not the idea if you get my meaning. The wife used to just tell Candace, or whoever was in charge, that night. But, now, the collar signals her wishes; she doesn't have to say anything," said Paul. I nodded.

"How long before they get going, I mean…"

"How long before you're a cuckold for real?" he said.

"Yes," I squeaked. He smiled at my discomfort.

"It varies, but, inside of an hour for sure. Don't worry. If your wife loves you, things will be fine, even fun. It's been fun for us. And, yes even me," he said.

We talked about our lives, families, jobs: got to know each other. As time wore on I was getting more and more nervous, antsy, scared. There was no clock, but after what I considered an hour had passed, I asked the question. "By now?" I said.

"Good bet," he said.

"What do I have to do?" He knew what I meant. "You sure?" he said.

"No, but I'm going to give it my best," I said. "I figure, if tonight is the test, I want to give it the best I've got to see if I can deal with it. If I can do it, tolerate it, okay. If not, then also okay. I tried. But…"

"Yeah, I know. You don't really know how to start," he said. "So okay, you're the girl. Let me lead, and you just obey. Okay?"

"Okay," I said. My stomach was doing flip flops, but I was kind of excited in a perverse sort of way.

"Come here, sissy," he said. He wasn't smiling, but his tone was kindly. He sat with his back against the back of the cage and spread his legs wide. His cock, which had been hard since I'd joined him in the cage stuck straight out in front of him. The roof of the cage was too low to stand I crawled on fours toward him. I couldn't look him in the eyes, so I stared at his engorged cock.

"Go on, touch, sissy," he said. I did as he commanded. I touched it, stroked it with my fingertips, and finally took it in my fist and stroked it up and down. I leaned in and let the glans of his penis slip into my mouth. I began to suck him. It wasn't too bad. The big news was that I was hard as a rock myself.

After some few minutes, he stopped me. "That's enough. I don't want to come too soon. I want my first load to go up your butt," he said. "lay down flat on the floor—face down." I did so. I heard him moving around behind and above me. I felt his finger and the cold sliminess of the KY jelly as he began priming me.

"You okay?" he said.

"Yes," I squeaked. "Just do it." He pushed my legs farther apart as he positioned himself to enter me. I felt the push. He was inside of me, only an inch or so, but he was inside of me. It didn't hurt, not really, not yet. I hoped it wouldn't be any worse than it already was.

He began the push and pull that was always part of screwing someone, man or woman. He was lying heavily on top of me as he continued to fuck me. I heard footsteps.

I was facing the walkway in front of the cage. I looked up. My wife stood there in her robe watching him do me. She looked—what—interested. Jackson, was there, also in his robe, but his monster cock was pushed through its folds pointing directly at me. I wanted it all to stop, but there was no way. I was going to get good and fucked, and that in front of my wife, and that was all there was to it. My humiliation was total.

I kept my eyes on my wife the whole time, trying to avoid even seeing Jackson and

his enormous cock. It had to have been at least ten inches. "Ready, sissy," gasped Paul, as he speeded up his pumping.

"Just finish it," I said. He did. I felt him ejaculate, washing my insides in his sperm. He relaxed. He rolled off of me.

Emily mouthed me a silent kiss, turned and followed her lover of the evening out once more. As they got further and further away from us and eventually out of sight, I began to feel very low, lower than I ever had before. I realized that there was no way I could endure this lifestyle over the long haul. She'd—we'd—had our moment, our experiment; and it wasn't going to work for us. Not for me it wasn't. She'd just have to understand. I feared the coming confrontation, but this time I would be adamant.

**

"He looked frightened," she said. "it's going to be hard on the way home, very hard."

"That's what I was saying earlier," said Jackson. "He, all newbies, is going to be very fragile for a while. You will need to be momma, lover, friend, teacher, everything. It's going to be tough in the early going; it always is for new cuckolds." She nodded.

He came to her, and she let her robe drop. He followed suit. He guided her to the bed where she opened her legs as wide as she could for the second round. He took her as she lay passive, surrendering to him completely.

**

It was almost 4:00AM when she finally came for me. Paul's wife, Denise, was there too; their timing was coincidental but a good thing as it would turn out. Jackson and whoever did Denise was not in evidence either, another good thing. Denise had the key to our cell and our clothes. She let us out and the two women removed our collars. Following that, we dressed hurriedly: we were anxious to get home to our rewards; well, Paul was. I figured to have a problem with Emily for sure. I could tell by her demeanor that she was happy with the experiment. I was horny and wanted a reward too, but not at the price I was sure I was going to have to pay. The women gabbed the whole time we were dressing.

I noticed that Paul had put his blue panties back on. I had shucked my lavender ones and left them in the cage. No one seemed to notice—yet. But, I wouldn't be wearing them, ever again. Yeah, it was going to be frigid in Lawsonville for a while, maybe real frigid.

Finally, with our clothes on and introductions over with the four of us walked out together. We two men trailed behind our wives who talked animatedly in front of us.

"Looks like the two of them will get along okay if you guys keep coming back here," said Paul.

"We'll not be coming back, Paul. I've made my decision. It is just too scary for me," I said. "And, before you ask, no it isn't anything you did. It's the whole scene I guess."

"Well, okay brother. But, if you change your mind or want to get together outside of here, here's my card." I took it and slipped it into my pocket.

The whole scene had me going; it was strange as hell. Here I was liking a guy, as a friend, who had just fucked me in the ass; and, I'd willingly let him; and my wife had seen him do me. How the hell does anybody equate stuff like that with anything; I sure as hell didn't know. My excuse for letting it happen to me" I was horny as hell; I had to have something and Paul was all there was around. Now I knew why men in prison did the things they did.

**

The ride home was somber. She was doubtless doing the same as me: reliving the hours just gone.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said. I looked over at her.

"It's too scary, "Em. Don't wanna do it anymore. I'm invoking our deal. I hope you can understand where I'm coming from."

"I kinda expected you to be a bit skittish after this first time," she said. "We need to wait a little and talk some more about this before making a final decision. Would that be okay?"

"We can talk 'Em; hell, we will talk. But, in the end we won't be going back. I tried. I mean I really tried. In the end I discovered that I just couldn't do it. Give me credit for trying 'Em; give me credit for that much," I said.

"I do give you credit for that, Danny. Oh my, yes indeed I do. I know it must have been hard on you there tonight. But can I ask you a question?" she said.

"Sure, I guess,"

"Could you tell me, I mean at any time, were you, well, stimulated by it all" You know hot"' she said. I looked at her. It was a fair question.

"You know, that's hard to say. I was so terrified most of the time—well I just don't know—I'm not sure," I said. She nodded.

"Jackson said that this might be your reaction. He told me that it happens a lot to newbie cuckolds. They, the cuckolds, become so frightened about the possibility of losing their wives to studs like him that they sometimes, well, go off the deep end.

"Danny, all I'm asking for is a chance to sell the product here. You know after our nerves, and yes that means my nerves too, have calmed some. Some of this scares me too," she said.

"Scares you" Why?" I said.

"Danny, I watched you tonight; you know, getting it in the butt by another man. On the one hand it was hot watching it. On the other—well—it worried me. It worried me a lot. I can't even tell you why it worried me, at least not in any coherent way, but it did. Can you understand that?" she said. "Oh, and for the record, I noticed you left your panties behind. That kind of cued me to the things you're saying right now, your feelings about it all I mean." I nodded.

"I didn't think anyone noticed. I left them in the cage," I said. "Yes, I saw them, like I said."

"We'll talk tomorrow, if that's all right," she said. "We need to be calmer. I know I do. But, no matter what, please believe me when I say that I love you and only you. And, I will honor your demands if you really decided to end it after we talk. Okay?"

"Yes, that's what I want and need," I said. "But, though I am willing to talk, my mind is made up, 'Em, I hope you're getting this. I really really mean it." I pulled into the driveway, parked, and looked around at her once more.

"I'm tired too. Let's get to bed," I said.

**

Waffles! My favorite. Well, I knew that something of the kind was likely in the offing. This would be the morning of our discussion/confrontation on the subject of the hour. I feared it, and I was of the opinion that so did she.

Into our second cups of coffee, and with our syrup smeared plates pushed back. We sighed in unison. She smiled. I did too.

"Well, here we are. I'm a cuckold. You're a hot wife. And, I am not comfortable with either of those, and I want to end the experiment and that without regret, recriminations, or even a lot of talk. The balls in your court," I said, surrendering the floor to her.

"I can understand you reticence, Danny. But, from my perspective, I see the matter in a different light. I see it as a non-threatening, to us, a fantasy that's fun; limited in the sense that it won't be but a once a month thing if even that often; and I see it as fulfilling for both of us even while granting that at first it must be kinda scary for you or for any man," she said.

"You were the one getting satisfied, Emily. Me" I was locked up in a cage, butt fucked, and humiliated beyond endurance when that Jackson fellow flashed me his cock while Paul was doing me. That particular insult, and it was an insult, was the catalyst, as I see it now, for my wanting to invoke our agreement," I said. She frowned when I mentioned Jackson's display; she'd apparently not seen it.

"I'll certainly talk to Jackson, Dan. I'm sure he only meant it in a teasing way, but I can understand how you might have seen it differently. I will most definitely mention it to him. It won't happen again, I mean if after our talk we do decide to continue with the—experiment.

"Look, I know this is a hard thing for you, Dan, like I've said. But if you could just see your way clear to try a little longer, I promise to go slow in bringing you—us—along. You know to make it nice for the both of us. Give you your fantasy in the best possible rendition of it. Get something out of it for myself too. You know, make it a positive thing for the both of us," she said. "I'd really like to see us give it a little more of a chance to work for us."

"Emily, let me ask you a question straight up. Isn't one of the requirements for us to continue at the mansion that eventually I be cut off from having intercourse with you?" I said.

"Well, I… " she paused. "Well, I think it's usual for most cuckolds, but not for us," she said. I can promise you that. Would that be okay?"

"So, anytime I wanted you, even if your bull said different, we'd do it. You'd let me have you. Right?" I said.

"Well—sure—I mean of course. I mean you're my husband. You come first always," she said.

"You hesitated, 'Em. That tells me that there would be rules that even I couldn't break, not easily at any rate. The thing is, Emily, that there will be no more of it, the experiment. None. I am invoking our agreement. Are you going to abide by our agreement or not" That's pretty much the long and the short of it for me," I said. She took on a frustrated expression.

"I will abide by it, Danny; I did promise. I wish you'd lighten up and try to see my side of it though. Maybe do it a few more times to see how it goes. One night does not a lifestyle make," she said.

I ignored her ploy. "Good, you said you'd abide by our agreement. I appreciate that. Matter closed forevermore," I said. Her sigh was louder than her earlier one.

I opened my arms and she came to them, a little reluctantly I thought, but she did come. We kissed, and went back to finishing our coffees.

We talked a little more though not much was said about the past night's adventures per se. I had to hope that we'd not be revisiting the matter. I wanted it to be a dead issue, and the deader, the sooner, the better. Oh, that things might be little tense as the time for the next club night came around I was fully cognizant. But, I figured that as more time passed we'd be able to put the matter behind us. Well, that was my hope. And for a time it looked as though my hope had been realized—for a time it had.

**

"You talked then," said Jackson.

"Yes, and you called it. He is just too skittish to even hear of a compromise. Everything I said went in one ear and out the other. He's dead set against it, and getting him to come around to a more—what—liberal way of thinking is pretty much a non-happening," said Emily.

"I've seen the like a lot, Emily. Little white boy afraid of the big black boogieman. It's almost always this way with new cuckolds. That said, most of them, the cucks, come around eventually. They come around, that is, if they are convinced that the boogieman is not going to eat them all gone," said Jackson. "That, my dear, is your task, maybe even our task: yours and mine," he said.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Simple, convince him that neither I nor any other guy is a threat to him. Now, get what I'm saying, 'Em. I am not saying to get him to want to be a cuckold. That's already his fantasy; he'd love to be one. But, not, I repeat not, at the expense of his wife's love or his own sense of self-worth. He must feel absolutely safe and confident in your regard and love for him, or it's a no go," said Jackson, "and that regardless of the intensity of his fantasy." She nodded.

"Yes, I see what you mean. You put it so well, mister. I just wish I could get him to sit down with you, and let you kinda lead him into being what it is both he and I want to be. Does that make any sense?" she said.

"Perfect sense. And, at some point we may want to risk just that. But, let's wait a while. He's got to think it's his idea to want to talk about it. You badgering him will not do it, not even. And, him even seeing me would pretty much put an end to his ever coming around. But, all that said, there may come a time. We've just to bide ours," he said.

"So, okay. We bide our time. But let's not waste any more time today. You gonna fuck me or not"' she said, smiling.

"What do you think"' he said. He slowly began taking off his clothes a piece at a time, almost teasing her with the pace of it. She was already naked, and now she was naked and lying on the bed.

He stood by the bed his ten-inch cock swaying in front of him, her smile gone as she surveyed the threat to the walls of her vagina.

"That thing of yours is a little scary," she said.

"I've been told that," he said. "But, you'll get used to it—eventually!" he laughed.

**

Work had been tiring and I was looking forward to a night of food, TV, maybe a little foolin' around with Emily, and sleep—emphasis on the sleep.

As I turned the corner onto are street, I saw noticed the extra car in our driveway. It was a Chevy. I always preferred Chevys. My wife Toyota was next to it. With no reason whatsoever to be concerned about it, I was concerned about it—the car.

I pulled in parked and went inside. I stopped cold in my tracks.

"Hi, honey. You remember Jackson, right?" she said. I nodded, but very slowly. The big black stood, and offered me his hand to shake. I looked at it and ignored it. He relaxed and smiled. I wondered at that. Probably expected my reaction, I'd later suppose.

"We had a deal, Emily. What's studly here for," I said. She'd been smiling, now her smile morphed into a don't-be-that-way-smirk.

"He's just here to talk," said Emily. "He's a friend is all."

"Yes, Dan, she's saying it true. I am just a friend who dropped by to talk a little if that's all right," said Jackson.

"Talk a little. Let me guess. She's gotten you to try to talk me into going back to the mansion" That about it?" I said. "If so, you're wasting my time and yours."

He laughed. "Well yes, sort of," he said. "Any chance?"

"None," I said.

"Well, that's a shame, but I have another reason for being here," he said.

"Oh?"

"I'm here to invite you to a party, at my house," he said. "You and the missus of course."

"A party. Let me guess some more. There will be lots of sex and cuckolding and I get to be one of the cuckolds" Or maybe the only one, Right?"

"No, no, not this time. Just a patio party. Some of the guests will indeed be mansionites, if you know what I mean. I mean they're friends of mine too. But others are just folks from where I work and a few of my family is all. Maybe forty folks if everybody shows up," he said.

He'd stopped me. The only venue I had ever seen Jackson at was the mansion, and the only situation with him that I was familiar with was one where he was a bull—my wife's bull. I had never given a thought to the notion that he might actually have a regular life or a job or was part of a family. But of course he had to have come from somewhere. In spite of myself I was intrigued. But, I still had a question or two.

"Were we to come, would there be the slightest pressure on me to do anything"' I said.

"Take a turn at the barbecue maybe, or tend bar. But, not the other thing," he said.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew that at the very least that there would be innuendo relating to the mansion or the things that happened there. But, I was a gambler in some respects and I actually felt that I was up to the challenge.

"Okay, then, count us in, unless of course you don't' want to go, honey," I said, all but breaking out laughing. She smirked.

"No, I have no objection, Huunneeyy," she said carrying out the term dramatically. "Oh, good, I was concerned you might not want to," I said, and no I didn't laugh.

"Good then," said Jackson. "Thank you very much for your hospitality." And then he was gone.

**

The barbecue was in full swing by the time we arrived. And there had to be

upwards of sixty people not the forty Jackson has prognosticated the week before.

I did recognize a few people from the mansion including Paul and Denise.

"Danny, nice to see you. Surprised really," said Paul. "How's everything."

"Okay," I said. "Emily is over getting something from Jackson. I guess she left it at the mansion, and Jackson retrieved it for her. Where's your wife?"

"Right here, mister Lawson," said Denise. "Emily here too?" she said.

"Yes, she's over there. Be here in a minute," I looked to where she'd been talking to Jackson but a moment before, but now she was nowhere to be seen. "Hmm, well she was over there," I said.

Paul, Denise and I talked for a few more minutes, then I got to worrying. Then, I decided to go looking. I wished I hadn't. I found them in the house, in the bedroom: the one next to the john. Jackson was doing her up real good. I decided to interrupt their little soiree.

"You just couldn't keep your word, either of you, could you," I said. Jackson's head snapped around as Emily tried her damnedest to get out from under his bulk. "I'll be leaving now. Please do me the favor of not coming home for the next little bit. I need a couple of hours to get out of your way. Okay?" I said.

"Hey man, it was just a spur of the moment thing. I know how it must look, but it's not what you think," he said.

"What I think it looks like is you and her cuckolding me. Something you said you wouldn't do today. But, I guess lying comes as easy to you as my believing you could change comes to me," I said.

"Honey, please. Let's talk this out. It really isn't as bad as you think," she said.

"No, no more," I said. "I finally get it. Please don't try to stop me. That's all I ask," I said. I turned and walked fast. I made it to the car. Got in and drove off.

**

The apartment I found myself in a week later was the very definition of a tenement: dirty, noisy, and bug infested. And, in an odd way it suited me. I got a visitor.

"Nice," he said. I laughed.

"Yeah if you don't mind sharing a room with a bevy of wildlife," I said. "But let me ask. What are you doing here, Paul?"

"Heard you broke up with your wife, my wife's bull got the skinny from Jackson," he said. I nodded my understanding.

"Yeah, it's true. She and I are done. Except that is for all of the yelling and screaming in court and such." I said.

"Well, if it's any consolation. My wife and I are on the rocks too," said Paul. He got a raised eyebrow from me over that announcement.

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah, she's shacking up with Demetrius, the bull of the hour, and evidently loving it," he said.

"Yeah, well, I guess we've got a lot in common then, huh?" I said.

"Seems like.

"Whatcha thinking about doing?" he said. "I mean long haul."

"Don't know really. I'm just doin' stuff day to day. You know?" I said.

"Yeah, me too. For the record, your wife is beside herself with concern for you; I mean since you've been gone."

"Yeah, well she hasn't tried very hard to find me," I said.

"Actually she has. She knows where you are. She's just afraid to come to you," he said.

"And you would know that how?" I said.

"She told me, your wife. I went looking for her before my breakup with Denise. Figured I might be of some help to you two guys. Anyway, that's how I found you" I got it from her. She wants her cake back, but I do think she still wants to eat it too," he said.

"You mean Jackson. You mean she still wants me to be her willing cuckold," I said. "'Bout the size of it," he said.

"Yeah well, when it snows where the devil lives," I said.

"Dan, you and I are cuckolds. And, that whether we like it or not. And we are willing cuckolds. Gotta admit it. We can go kicking and screaming to our fates but we will go. It's who we are—the both of us. And our women…

"They're cuckoldresses. It's who they are. They love us, but they need more than a couple of pussies like us to satisfy them sexually. Denise dumped me, but in your case it's the other way around. Hell, truth told, I wish I had your choices," he said.

"You say they love us, but Denise dumped you?" I said.

"Her bull got her to do it. She didn't want to, but he had power over her that I couldn't fight, not successfully. I know she loves me still, but I just don't measure up in ways that matter to her most, at least at the moment," he said.

"So what's your plan?" I said. "Same as you, don't know," he said.

"Hmm, fucking wonderful," I said. "Well, whatever. I guess living without a woman isn't the worst thing that could happen to me."

"Yeah, well it's the worst thing that could happen to me. I would do almost anything to get my wife back. I was okay with being her cucky. But, going to bed at night without her being there is real bad. I need her. I need her around me," said Paul.

His words struck home. My nights were pretty lonely too. I needed the warmth of her body, her breath, even her flopping around sometimes like she did. Helluva note.

"You know, Paul, really, I'm in the same boat as you. I need my woman. Trouble is she doesn't seem to need me. Looking back on everything now, I can't imagine how I allowed things to go so far. And all because I was okay with her cuckolding me—in principle. The reality of that is what did us in. I guess you could say that jealousy drove me from her, or, maybe it was her from me. You tell me which it was because I sure as hell don't know," I said.

"Yeah, I can dig it. And no, I don't know the answer to your question. I just know that in my case it was her bull that kicked me out. I mean she was the one to do his dirty work, but it was his idea. She told me so. So, now, I spend my nights in bars crying in my beer," I said.

"Me too," I said, "me too for sure." We talked for some time. But, in the end, the both of us, had nothing so much as the vague hope that somehow, someway things could be worked out.

**

It was some weeks later that I had a visitor, a very much of a surprise visitor. It was a Thursday evening. I'd come in from work draggin' and more than usually despondent wondering what my wife was doing, thinking. I answered the doorbell.

"Jackson!" I said.

"Yes, Jackson, me," he said. "Can I come in?" I hesitated.

"I won't bite, Danny. Fact is I'm here to maybe do us both a favor. Well the hope is anyway," he said. I nodded, and motioned him inside. Aside from voicing his name at his appearance at my door, I hadn't spoken word one to him. I pointed to the divan across the room; he took the proffered seat.

"I've got a problem," he said.

"And?" I said, finally uttering an utterance.

"And, well, it's kind of your problem too," he said.

"And?" I said.

"Emily is pissed. No, that's not right. She's really angry. She's angry with me, with you, and, I'm thinking maybe even herself," he said.

"And," I said.

"Not much of a conversationalist are you," he said, smiling kinda wistfully.

"Guess not," I said. "Look, Jackson, say what you came to say if you haven't already; so I can get back to my business," I said.

"You need to try again. Give her another chance," he said. "To do what?" I said.

"To be your wife, and yes, your cuckoldress. It would serve your best interests and hers, and okay, mine too," he said.

"You came here to tell me that knowing our history" You've got to be kidding," I said.

"The only thing that our history, as you call it, demonstrates is that you love her, but are afraid to risk her leaving you for some mythical big black cock. I can't even begin to tell you how remote such a proposition is," he said. "What is also true, is that she isn't with you now only because of your fears. She wants to be with you."

"Really?" I said.

"And, I'll tell you something else," he said. "I want her to be with you. I want her to have you be the one cuddling with her at night. Oh, I won't deny that I want to fuck her. And, further, I won't deny that she wants me to fuck her. But, I also know that she wants you to be the one she comes home to, to love her and make love to her and protect her and provide for her; and yes, to allow her to have her fun on the side cuckolding you." I stared at the man. He had balls of titanium for damn sure.

"And, why would you believe for a fraction of a New York minute that what you've just laid out for me would interest me in the least?" I said.

"You're kidding right. I know you're crying in your beer virtually every night. You miss her every bit as much as she misses you, and your fucking shitass ego is the only thing standing in the way of all of us getting what we want out of life. Deny it if you dare!" He said. I considered what he'd just said.

"You're wrong about one thing. There's no virtually about it. I cry in my beer every night. My ego" Maybe, but it's a mighty big assed fear that makes me skittish about the whole cuckolding thing, the lifestyle," I said.

"And, I understand that. And, I know you're the only one who can fix your problem, I mean your fears. But, and I know this for an absolute fact; it can be fixed," he said.

"I will say you've given me stuff to think about. But, I can tell you right now; I am not at a place where I can live a life of stress and vague hope; not nearly at a place like that," I said. "Tell her that. If I like how she reacts to those words—well—maybe then we'll have something to talk about," I said.

**

"Yes, that's what he said," said Jackson.

"Whatever gave you the idea that I wanted you to go to him, and talk for me," said Emily.

"No one. I was just tired of watching you drawing more and more inward. You're a gorgeous woman, 'Em, but not gorgeous enough to throw my fun lifestyle away for. And, unless your hubby is lying to me, and I know he's not; you need to—how did he say it—react positively to what he needs and wants, I think was the gist."

"You still should've talked to me first," she said.

"You can beat me later; I mean after I do you," he said, smiling.

"I just might," she said.

He was already unbuckling his belt.

**

He knocked on the door. The door opened. "Didn't take long for you to get here," said Denise.

"I was in the neighborhood," said Danny. "I was really wanting to speak to Paul."

"He's out of town on Business. Yes, yes, I know I should have told that you when you called. But, then I thought; I knew what you wanted, and frankly you need me not Paul. Paul's a wimp just like you," she said.

"I can see you are not getting what I'm…"

"You want to get back with your wife and you need someone to give you advice and hold your hand when you make the effort. Right" I mean just like Paul and I have," she said. That she was spot on notwithstanding was mildly irritating, but the fact was that she was spot on. I just stared at her.

Over the course of the next half hour, we shared a bottle of wine, talked about nothing worth talking about, and then we did.

"So have you made up your mind what you want to do wimp?" she said, she was not giggling. I gave her a hard look which did nothing to change her look or attitude.

"I'm not a wimp," I said.

"Whatever," she said. "Have you made up your mind?"

"I guess. I want to make the effort, as you put it. I just don't know how. I don't want to be without her, but to be totally out of control…"

"Actually, I can understand your concern. Paul—we went through the same stage of discontent if that's the right way to say it, and we just now barely made it back," she said. "But, unless, I miss my guess, and I almost never do, Emily won't let that happen. She loves you Danny. She also loves the sexual lifestyle you more or less introduced her to. So, I guess it's your call; give her one, a call that is. Talk to her; it can't hurt.

"Denise, you were right. I think you were the right one to talk to; I mean instead of Paul," I said.

"He would have given you about the same advice anyway," said Denise. I smirked.

"Yeah maybe," I said.

**

"Yeah, Beulah's Bistro, noon time," I said. I hung up after her agreement to be there.

She was late. I'd already killed my grilled cheese and the Heineken I'd washed it down with. I glanced in the direction of the doorway just in time to see her hot footing it inside.

"Hi Danny," she said Breathing hard. "I ran out of gas. Lucky I was only half a block from a gas station, but well…"

"Yeah it made you late," I said. I wondered just how hard up for cash she was. For some damn reason I still felt responsible for her. I knew she and Jackson were sharing expenses, but maybe not as efficiently as might be.

"Yes, yes it did," she said. "I'm sorry, okay. I really tried to be on time…"

"Okay, okay no harm no foul," I said. And, then I ran out of words. She picked up the slack.

"Danny?" she said. I spread my arms in a I-don't-know-what-to-say gesture.

"Danny, I'm sorry about before. You know, at the party. It really was spur of the moment. It just kinda happened."

"Emily, can I ask, what would you like to see happen"' I said. "I mean if you even want anything short of a divorce to happen."

"Ideally" For you and I to mend our fences and get back together as a functioning family again. Danny, that's what I'd like to see happen. Really," she said. I nodded.

"Me too," I said. "I'm just scared. Have been since the beginning. But—I talked to Denise Carton. She's the one that said I needed to talk to you one more time. You know, try to get by my fears and bad feelings. Well, you know."

"That's wonderful honey. But, I've had a long conversation with Jackson. He advised me to just put an end to cuckolding you and to get back to our regular lives.

"Emily… " I started and stopped.

"Yes?" she said.

"I need you to cuckold me. I've always needed it. But, needing and being able to deal with it; well, I just don't know. The bad news is neither do you. If we did we wouldn't be in this pickle," I said.

Huh?" She was clearly not understanding what I was saying. Or, understanding, was afraid to react to it, what I was saying.

"Denise—well—Denise hit it on the head. I didn't accept it at first, but then I did," I said.

"Hit what nail on the head" Accept what?" said Emily.

"That I'm a wimp. That I need you to lead in things sexual. That I want to see you satisfied and happy in ways that are—well—are beyond me. So, I am willing to be your cuckold finally and permanently. I just hope you'll have mercy on me once in a while if you know what I mean," I said. "But, I will no longer place any conditions on you—us—of any kind. I only ask that you take me back and love me like you always have."

"Huh?" she said.

We talked for a little while longer. She finally got the message, and seemed to be willing to believe that such a complete change of position on my part was not only possible, but a done deal.

"Honey, okay," she said. "And, have no fear, you will get to have me from time to time. I love you way too much to deny you for life. You and I will talk some more, but right now I'm going to go into the bedroom and faint. Then, I'm going to wake up and think about everything you've said before we have our next little talk. Okay?"

We did talk that night. We decided to give the manse thing another shot. I would go through the initiation they evidently have in place and become a true cuckold completely subject to my wife's whims relating to anything sexual. I was excited and so was she. It was going to be a very interesting and hopefully stimulating time for us.

**

Our preparations for our return to the manse took all day. Well, it did for Emily. Me, a couple of hours.

She looked gorgeous, I looked okay. She was nervous; well, it was truth time: could we do it, would I change my mind when the time came for me to surrender to her and to her bull of the night. Hell, I was as nervous as she was, but, I was also determined. I was committed. I would have to be trusting that she would be a good wife and a merciful cuckoldress. The good news was that I was confident that she would.

She stood in the doorway, in her knee length black evening dress and stared at me. "Ready honey?" she said. I nodded.

"Yes. And, Emily?" I said. "Yes?"

"I won't let you down," I said. I meant it too. She came to me and kissed me gently on the lips.

"You're my husband, Daniel. You have nothing to fear. I will make it my business to see to it that as my cuckold you will be happy as a clam. Just trust me," she said.

"It's time to go, I guess," I said.

"Yes. Did you put them in the car?" she said. I knew what she meant.

"Yes, they're in there. It's the one thing about tonight that, frankly, I'm not sure of; but, yes, I put the evil things in the car." She smiled.

"It won't be that bad. You're going to be mighty uncomfortable for a bit, but you'll live," she said. She wasn't quite laughing. I shivered.

**

We arrived at the manse about half an hour early. Emily was holding our little package; she handed it to Arnold; she seemed to know what to do. I got a smile from Arnold, the same guy who'd greeted us that first time, seemingly so long ago now.

"Going to join us for real, now, huh mister Lawson?" he said. I nodded. "Yes, I guess we are," I said. "We're early?"

"A little, no problem. Why don't the two of you just go get a drink at the bar. Things will star in about thirty minutes," he said.

"Yes, that would be good," said Emily. She took me by the hand and led me to the bar where we both ordered white wine.

"Nervous, honey?" she said.

"A little. But, I'll be okay once things actually get underway," I said.

"I know," she said. "You know I am very proud of you, Daniel. You're the best." "Well, hello," said Jackson, coming up to us just at that second.

"Hello," I said. Emily just smiled.

"So tonight's the night," he said.

"Yes, I suppose it is," I said. "You okay?" he said. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so. Emily and I have talked about it. I think we're good. Aren't we, honey?" I said.

"Yes, yes we are," she said. "We definitely are."

The three of us gabbed for the next fifteen minutes or so, and then Arnold interrupted us to let us know that we were five minutes from starting. I swallowed hard. I knew the drill. I'd been so informed by Paul the day before. At least Jackson avoided the temptation to smirk.

"Good luck to all of us," he said. I think he meant it.

We headed out to the garden area where a few other cuckolds-to-be were waiting with their wives to be initiated. They were already wearing their collars. The only thing that bothered me a little was that they were all wearing blue collars.

A young girl, probably early twenties but looking more like a junior high schooler, came up to us.

"You're the Lawsons right?" she said. "Yes we are," said. Emily.

"Pink or blue?" she said.

Emily gave me a look, smiled and looked back at the girl. "Pink for my little sissy," she said. The girl smiled broadly. She handed the pink collar to my wife. I knew my face was as red as a beet.

"Turn around honey so I can fasten this onto you," she said. I felt her wrap it around my neck, adjust it and tighten the buckle. I felt her snap shut the little padlock that guaranteed my humiliation as a sissy cuckold for the rest of the night.

"There," she said, "everyone will know you're my sissy boy now. This is going to be fun." Arnold came up to us.

The little girl, for such she was in stature, came around to face me full on. I have to pants you, sir," she said. "You have to go up there naked from the waist down. Please kick off your shoes; we'll leave your socks on." I complied and she proceeded to undo my pants and pull them down. My underpants were next.

"It's time to go up to the scaffold," said Arnold, who'd been standing by watching the proceedings. Emily frowned.

"Sorry, honey, but you know…"

"Yes, I know," I said.

On the raised platform, that Arnold had referred to as the scaffold, were six sets of stocks. There were lengths of rope hanging loosely on all of them. The stocks were all facing inward. Once our heads were to be locked in place and our butts would be facing outward toward the audience. I saw our little package at the base of the one of the stocks with the number four emblazoned on it. I swallowed. It was six-to-five and pick 'em what was going to be worse for me: the doubtless savage spanking that I was about to endure, or the absolutely crushing humiliation that would follow it. Whatever, Emily led me forward to number four.

"You okay, honey" This is it. It's going to sting, I know, but it won't last too long," she said.

"I—I—guess so. I just hope I don't disgrace myself," I said.

"You won't. I have confidence in you. It's been kind of a long road, but we're here now. It's time to do it."

I nodded. The time for words was over. It was, as she said, time to get it done.

"Turn around, honey, I need to tie your hands behind you back. As I did so, I saw her reach for one of the strands of rope that hung from stock. "Put your hands behind your back, dear. I did as she said and she secured my hands, quite tightly. Now, bend forward, honey so I can lock your head down into the stock. Again, I obeyed her. I felt the heavy overhead branch of the stock as it was lowered over me securing me from any significant movement. I noticed on of the other rope strands disappearing to my left.

"Put you ankles together, honey, I need to tie them together too," she said. I did and she said.

A final strand of rope disappeared from my left and I felt her binding my thighs just above my knees. I was going nowhere, and there would be no mercy now. I was condemned to endure whatever was done to me.

While my wife had been preparing me for punishment, other wives had been doing the same to five other soon to be initiated husbands. All of them looked to be as apprehensive as I'm sure I did. It was strange, but, I felt a kind of camaraderie with my fellow cuckolds. I supposed, that at some point, we'd be introduced to each other, but as for that, I really didn't know for sure.

Emily came around to the front of the stock and touched my cheek. I noticed the other wives doing something of the same.

"Honey, Maribel, the girl we met a few minutes ago, will be the one to whip you. I will be behind you watching, but I will not be asked to spank you myself. I love you." And, then she was gone. I'd said nothing. I felt as though I were in some kind of zone.

I actually felt the footsteps, or maybe heard them, of the girl. She said nothing, but I sensed her behind me. And then" And then I was seeing stars. The switch began to take a toll on my conscious self. I wasn't at all sure I could do it, endure it. Then, I heard the first screams from my fellow sufferers. I was going to hold out. I would not beg or scream or anything. I was going to make it no matter what.

The howling continued for some minutes. I had been doing my best to count, to keep an accurate count of the lashes across my naked buttocks; I reached seventy- seven. The other husbands were crying and screaming to be let out of their stocks. A couple of them were alternately cursing and begging for mercy. Their prayers were not heard let alone answered; their punishments continued steadily.

Me" On number seventy-eight I howled. I'd tried. But, now I surrendered. I began to alternately sob and howl in agony. Now, I had nineteen to go. I tried to sag down to avoid the switch but there was no way. My legs bound as they did not allow for any significant dodging of the punishing instrument that was torturing my backside. I began to choke on my own spit.

Then it was over.

**

The girl, Maribel, had come up to raise the bar that had imprisoned my head in the stock. Still bound, I sagged to the ground sobbing uncontrollably. I felt the girl releasing my legs first; then my wrists were undone from the rope. I rubbed them furiously. I felt my butt, but I couldn't really rub it. Delicate didn't even begin to describe their state at that moment.

Someone was trying to lift me to my feet. I saw Emily just a few feet away smiling! I knew that smile. It was one of pride. She was proud of me! I looked up; it was Jackson. He was the one trying to help me. I wanted to thank him and kill him at the same time. Confused did not, could not, adequately describe my state of mind.

"You did good, Danny," he said.

"Fucking wonderful," I said. "I think you set a record for enduring it before cutting loose…"

"Before I started screaming, right," I said. He smiled, but he also nodded.

Emily joined us as Jackson helped me down from the scaffold. "Honey, you were so strong. I was so proud of you," she said. Just then one of the other husbands who'd been imprisoned in the stocks and his wife crossed in front of us on their way toward the front door., or so I thought. They stopped. She was trying to console him. He turned his back to her and continued walking. Turned again and came back to her. She said something. He answered her. Then, from way out of left field he delivered a haymaker to her left jaw that lifted her clean off the ground and sent her spiraling through the air some little distance before she came to rest about fifteen feet to our left. She was out.

A couple of big black guys took hold of him and hustled him out. Jackson gave me a look.

"Don't worry, Jackson; you're safe from me," I said. He smirked but didn't say anything.

"Dan, you okay?" he said.

I snickered. "Is that a serious question?" I said.

"I mean…"

"Yeah, I guess," I said. He nodded. He wasn't being arrogant or anything, but I had the feeling that his look was meant to carry a message. I knew I'd be figuring that one out soon enough.

"Honey," said Emily. She sounded—what—nervous maybe. I smiled at her.

"I'm tougher than that," I said. She visibly relaxed.

"I know, honey. I know. You were…"

"Yeah, I know, a hero. Right?" I said. She giggled. Jackson for his part was being a little on the quiet side, letting us have our moment.

"Damn straight," she said. I think she actually meant it too.

"Let's not go directly to the room," said Jackson. I think we could all use a little drink." I gave him a look, then realized that he was right. Going to the room right away wouldn't be good. And, a drink—or six—would be more than good.

"Yes," said Emily. "Yes, let's do that. Is that okay with you, honey?" "Yes. That would be fine," I said.

**

We secured a table just a few feet off from the end of the bar.

I was slowly, very slowly sipping my martini. "I guess it went okay?" I said. The sting had died some over the past little time; I was actually able to sit, kind of a surprise.

The two of them were doing their level best not to upset me or force anything. They looked at each other.

"Look, you two. That guy that ran off. Well, it is what it is. I guess it was too much for him. For me" Not so much, though I have to say there were a few moments…"

"That's kind of the thing," said Jackson. "If the husband can do it; well, it says something about his—his and his wife's—chances of making it as a lifestyle. If he can't do it; well, that says something too, I guess.

"Yes, I think that's true," said Emily. "And we will make it, I think." It was my turn to say something meaningful.

'Me too" I said. "Let's drink up and go. It's time to do it to me." I smiled. The look on their two faces was precious. I was pretty sure I would be rewarded big time before it was all over.

The room was pretty much cheap-motel-room-esque. A small bedroom with a night stand; two rattan chairs; a king sized bed, that dominated the room; a totally inadequate closet; and a bathroom designed, I was sure, for dwarfs and living pencils.

"You can leave your clothes on for now, honey," said Emily, seeming to take control of the situation.

"Okay," I said. Jackson for his part just smiled and began to disrobe. Emily, still in her black evening dress and high heels lay down on the bed fully clothed; I found that interesting. I hadn't expected to be surprised by anything, but that was a surprise. Well, whatever, I was sure that she wouldn't be dressed for long.

Emily rolled over onto her side and watched as her lover sat on the side of the bed facing me. I had taken a seat a few feet from the bed to watch the proceedings.

"Come over here, honey, and kneel between Jackson's legs," she said. I knew what she was about, and I was a little skittish, but I obeyed her. This was the night that I became an unabashed and willing cuckold. I came to the man and knelt as I was told, and waited. Jackson laid back. His dick lay naked and turgid and huge on his athletic torso.

"Honey… " said Emily. I nodded and reached for the big man's cock, I stroked it a few times and leaned in to lick then suck at the purplish glans. I felt him jerk at the ticklish if pleasurable sensation. I felt him beginning to stiffen as an orgasm began to build in him. Suddenly my mouth and throat were awash in his semen. I swallowed as much as I could. Emily was smiling. Jackson sat up once again, patted me on the head, and nodded for me to retake my seat in the chair a few feet from the bed's edge.

Emily was smiling. It was a smile of pride if I read it right. Whatever else happened in the months and years ahead relating to such things, this moment was mine and Emily's not Jackson's and Emily's. I knew it, and I sensed that she knew it too.

I sat on my chair still fully clothed and watched as her lover felt her up and kissed her deeply and often.

I watched as he slipped her panties down her beautiful legs. He threw them to me. I sniffed the dampness that painted the crotch of them. God, my wife was a wonderful woman—female. I was becoming fearful; I needed her bad. Would she let me have her too" Was I, as her cuckold, to be denied intercourse with her, I mean so soon after this initiation. I prayed she would allow me a mercy fuck at the least.

Jackson mounted her missionary and probed her sex with his throbbing sex engine. He thrust himself into her; her eyes popped open and she grunted. He began seesawing in and out of her. Her eyes were glazed over in lust as he continued to fuck her. I was witness to her shattering climax as her body thrust up to meet his assault. The small of her back was many inches off the surface of the bed as she arched her body uncontrollably in her final throws of sexual release. She collapsed, as did he—on top of her before rolling off. The two of them lay side by side, heavily, breathing hard and lost in their own world of thought.

Emily looked over at me. "Jackson needs you again, dear," she said. I didn't hesitate. I got up and got on the bed with them. I knelt between his splayed legs and began licking and sucking him to life once more. It took a little while, but I got the job done.

I raised up and started to go back to my chair, but Jackson took hold of my arm and urged me back onto the bed. Emily had moved to the side a little and began pantsing me. My cock exposed and a question painting my face, my wife smiled at me.

Turn over onto your belly, honey, and raise your buns nice and high into the air. Jackson's going to fuck you. She was smiling broadly now. I knew that it might happen but it was something of a surprise anyway. I obeyed her, but I was a little bit slow about it. She used her hands to help flip me.

On my belly and naked from the waist down, I raised my buttocks high as she had directed and waited for him to do what he was going to do.

"Here, Jackson," said Emily. She handed him a tube of something. I was guessing KY. He smiled. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Emily touched the side of my face. "Just relax and let Jackson do you. It'll be a little uncomfortable at first, but you'll get to like it at some point. Really," she said, with knitted brow.

As she said what she said, I could feel Jackson lubing my anus with his fingers, at least three of them. I did try to relax. There was no escape for me, so my best bet was to make it as easy on myself as possible.

His fingers pulled out of me. I could feel him positioning himself behind me. I felt odd. Humiliating though it was, I found myself looking forward to it—him doing me—but mildly concerned about it as well. Like I said, odd.

His cock began pushing into me. God he was big. I grunted and strained and started gasping short breaths.

"It's okay, honey, he's mostly in now. Just surrender yourself to what's happening to you. Don't fight it. It'll be all right," said Emily. And it was, well, if not exactly all right, not too bad. He unloaded inside of me. He cum added lube to the KY he'd primed me with. He began to shrink out of me. My turn to collapse onto my stomach. I just lay there with my eyes shut taking in short gulps of air.

There was no fucking doubt about it now; I was a cuckold, a willing and totally humiliated cuckold. I made myself, I told myself, it was what I wanted, had always wanted. But deep down lurked fears. I hoped against hope that Emily and I could overcome them together. I would need her. Without her there was no making it for me.

**

I opened my eyes; it was two in the morning; she was kissing me. "You were wonderful," she said. I glanced over to the other side of the bed. Jackson was standing there.

"You're sure you don't want me to stay the night; we're allowed to?" he said. He said it to her.

"No, no, my husband and I need to get home and be together for the next several days. I learned last night just how much he loved me and what he would do for me, to see to it that I was pleasured. So, no, you needn't stay the night. But, thank you," said Emily. "It was very good." I lay there surprised by her words. I think Jackson was too.

He was already getting dressed. I looked askance at Emily.

"He's just going home cucky. It's just you and me now. We're going home too. We're going home and you are going to screw me senseless. Okay?" I know my smile of relief cued her before my words did.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Oh yeah!"

**

Though my striped ass was still somewhat sore, I was able to drive. My beautiful wife was leaning against my shoulder, her hand absently massaging my thigh.

We'd been silent since getting in the car for the ride home. Now, she decided to talk.

"You okay?" she said.

"Yes. I have to admit, I was worried though. I needed you today—tonight. So, since I am going to get to have you. Well, yes, I'm very okay," I said.

"I know you need it. And every time you let Jackson or another man have you; you'll be getting it. I made that decision when I saw how hard it was for you to take him, and how willingly you did so. You are definitely my main man," she said. I sighed. I wondered how long it would be before I got to have her again if I had to wait for her lover of the moment to fuck me. Well, we'd be seeing about that I guessed.

The one thing that I knew for sure was that the next little while was going to be special. There definitely was hope.

-----------------------------

   Series:Ethan and Marie
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Husband catches his over-sexed wife with his boss--not good.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/60209/ethan-and-marie
Published:2009-05-02
We didn't marry young like so many of our friends had; we were both twenty-five. We did well too, I worked an hourly blue collar job; made good money. She was little miss stay at homemaker. I'd thought we did good. Fifteen years worth of "I'd thought." Well, I'd thought wrong.

My wife not only didn't love me, as I discovered; she'd actually held me in contempt, had for a long time, I guess. Worse, she still does; though now "I'm" in the driver's seat. Hell, looking back, maybe I deserved it. Sure as hell I took too damn much for granted including her love for me. I'm mostly over it now.

Looking back, it'd taken me a couple of years of pure hell to get through it, and I only made it then with the help of a woman who was, and still is, way out of my league. I will say though that I will never forget it-any of it.

My name is Ethan Crowley. My now ex-wife, is Marie. She was the focal point of my life for almost twenty years, counting the four years plus before our marriage.

My life, my marriage, my heart all died going on three years ago today if "the when" even matters; it was our anniversary. The good news is that my life and my heart at least were eventually brought back from the dead and restored to me a bit less than a year ago, again, with the help of that very special lady. That first marriage was, however, lost forever and has been consigned to the trash heap reserved for its like.

Oh yeah, well, the story…

******

The boss had assigned me a job that was going to take me all day even if I worked through my lunch hour-on my freakin' anniversary! I was the warehouse supervisor for Gilchrist Shipping. Howard Gilchrist, the owner's son, and my boss; had told me that I had to handle it, the assignment, myself; he didn't trust anyone else to do it right, he'd said. At first blush I felt kinda good that he had that kind of confidence in me, that in spite of it being my anniversary; but then I started thinking. Why this particular job.

The task was to collect all of the data: mileage and expenses for each of the company's many vehicles for the past year. We had receipts, hard copies, for all of that. Why did I have to double check something so mundane? Heck, Julie in accounting could do the job better and faster than I could. I went to her. She looked at me funny.

"What Ethan? Gas, tires, oil changes? I can do that in fifteen minutes. It's all in the computers. You don't have to pull all of the paper work for this. Let me help you," she said.

"Julie, you're a life saver. I'll stay here with you while you pull it all up and verify it. The job was assigned to me, after all," I said. I was smiling like a possum. The boss had said I could go home to my wife when I got it all done; he didn't know it was our anniversary, but I had signed off for a half day's annual leave a few days before, that so Marie and I could have enough time to really celebrate the day; I had plans! Anyway, I figured to be done by 11:00AM latest.

I was wrong. Julie got it all done by 9:30AM. "Julie, I owe you a steak dinner for this one," I said.

"I'll hold you to that," she said. I kissed her on the top of her head, and she snarled at me in fun.

I handed the keys to my back up, Jerry Coulter, and headed out.

Our house was a good half hour driving time from the warehouse. I was thinking of the afternoon and evening of fun that Marie and I would be sharing. I was even planning on taking her shopping since I'd gotten off this early. I pulled onto my street just before 10:30AM.

There was a strange car in the driveway. Well, not strange, but a car that shouldn't have been there. It was my boss' car, Howard Gilchrist's-at fucking 10:30 in the freakin' morning! This did not look good. I drove past my house and around the corner and parked on the next street. I padded home on foot. If what I thought was going on was in fact going on, I was going to be sick-real sick.

I sidled through the side gate and into the back yard. I stayed close to the wall. I wanted to surprise my wife and her guest if I could. Moving up close, I could see them through the sliding glass doors. He was fucking her slowly. He had her kneeling on the couch with her butt pushed back to accommodate him, her breasts hanging down pendulously. God, she was sex personified!

Even from where I was watching the tableau, I could see he had a seriously large cock. It was much bigger than my four and a half inches. Well, and why wouldn't it be, he was six inches taller and a seventy pounds heavier than my five-six and one-thirty-five. I was suddenly sick. Oh, and he was black. All blacks had big dicks, didn't they?

I was standing in plain view now, but outside of the doors. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did. He orgasmed into her. She screamed loud enough for me to hear outside. He pulled out of her and she straightened up and turned toward me. Our eyes met. Her hand went to her mouth. I must have looked like a puppy dog to her: hands at my side, my look undoubtedly tragic.

She wrinkled her brow and slowly shook her head in what I figured had to be sympathy; she mouthed my name. She said something to her lover. His head snapped around. He looked shocked for a moment, but then spread his hands out in a "you caught me" gesture. He followed that by a smile. I turned and walked away. I had no idea where I was going.

Not a word had been said at the house. I had to figure that our marriage was over, But I had no clue about how it might go down. One thing, I'd have to go back at some point and get my stuff. I'd figure that one out later, and then look at my options. I headed for the nearest watering hole. I needed a drink-or eight or ten.

Mister fuckwad Gilchrist was my boss. But, I couldn't work for him anymore. I'd go in when I knew he wasn't going to be around and resign and get my accumulated vacation pay and severance. I'd worked for Gilchrist Shipping for almost the whole of my married life. I'd started with the old man as a loader, was promoted to checker, then warehouse super; but since the old man had gone semi-retired, I'd been working for Howard. He'd treated me all right, but evidently he was treating my wife even better.

"So whaddya gonna do?" said Charlie. Charlie was the bartender at the Hard Hat.

"Don't know. I gotta get my stuff, but I don't wanna go through the inevitable scene. Guess I won't be able to avoid it though," I said.

Just as Charlie was about to comment a tall, very good looking, hardbodied black woman came up to the bar for a refill of whatever her poison was. "Fill 'er up, Charlie," she said. She turned to me. "What's the matter, sadsack, got woman trouble?" Charlie looked up from filling her wine glass.

"Give him a break, Chelsea, Ethan's got reason to be down," he said. She just looked me up and down as if trying to decide just how big a wimp I really was. Satisfied with her appraisal, but apparently not about to share it, she headed back to her table where a soldier was waiting for her.

"Name's Chelsea Brown. Chelsea's a good woman, Ethan, she didn't mean anything by what she said. Say, you want a suggestion?" said Charlie.

"Yeah, for sure," I said.

"Do it, get your stuff, but at 2:00AM. She'll be tired, and he won't be there unless he's already moved into the house. In which latter case you gotta get a sheriff to go with you," said Charlie. "Especially if he's as big as you say." I looked over at him.

"Hey, that's a good idea," I said. "You must be some kind of genius. I'll do it tonight. Get it done fast and furious."

"You got it," he said. He wiped down the bar in front of me.

******

I drove down the street in front of my house slowly. The lights were all out; well, it was two in the morning. The lover's car was gone. I wondered how long he'd stayed after I'd left. I figured probably not long, but who knew.

I killed my lights before pulling in. I was hoping to catch her asleep. I was disappointed.

Inside, I headed for the hallway of our one-story ranch style. I had not turned on any lights. The voice from the dark startled me.

"It was only sex, Ethan, not love. You don't have to worry about that," she said.

She turned on the little end table lamp by the couch where she had been fucking him earlier that day and where she was now seated. I stared at her. But, I said nothing. I headed down the hall to our-what had been our-bedroom. I pulled two suitcases out of the walk-in and began loading them. Two minutes later she appeared in the doorway.

"What? Nothing to say to me?" she said. I stopped and looked at her. I let out a long sigh.

"I love you, Marie, but not enough to share you with that asshole," I said. "Oh, and happy anniversary-I mean yesterday." She winced at that; it was clear she'd forgotten; that was one little ditty especially that still rankled.

"Ethan, it was only sex. Can't you process that in your head," she said. "And, I'm-sorry about our anniversary. God, how sorry I am about that. Jesus, what a fucking mess. How could I forget our anniversary?"

I had continued to pack. I stopped. "Good question, Marie. It's supposed to be the man that forgets those sorts of things, isn't it? But, I guess we got our roles messed up somewhere along the line," I said. "Whatever, I guess you won't have to worry about remembering stuff like that anymore after today; Since I have clearly have lost both my wife and my job.

"Well, we ain't got no kids, lucky thing, I guess. All we have, you and I, are fifteen and more years of love and marriage. At least that was true in my case until now at least."

"You haven't lost your marriage or your job," she said. "I talked to him about it after you left. He understands how you must feel. He told me to tell you that everything is the same.

"There's no need to go overboard here," she said. "Nothing has to change. Nothing. You know, he thinks you do a great job for the company. He doesn't want to lose you."

"Well, he has anyway."

"Marie, it occurs to me that you've not said the two things that might have kept me around; I said might have," I said. "And Marie, everything has changed."

"Huh?" she said.

"You have not said you were sorry you made a cuckold of me, and you have not said you loved me. I've said that to you, but you've not said it to me," I said. She smirked.

"Of course I love you silly. And, I am very sorry you saw that today. I mean that. You didn't need that. I know it, and I am very sorry," she said.

"And what about him, Marie. You gonna keep seeing him? Keep fucking him? Him and his big cock?" I said. The bitterness was creeping into my words now. She looked down.

"Ethan, let's talk about this in the morning, okay. Just put those suitcases down and let's go to bed. I will make it right by you in the morning, okay?" she said.

"You didn't answer me," I said.

"Ethan-yes, I am going to keep seeing him. But, it doesn't have to break us up. I love you, not him; and he knows it. You have been my rock for all of these years. I need you and I want you. He's just a diversion, nothing more," she said. Now it was my turn to smirk.

"So, your plan is to make me a knowing cuckold instead of an unknowing one. A wimp husband who just crawls off into a corner and cries. That about it?" I said.

"Ethan, you've got this all wrong. Nobody's going to think less of you. Nobody is going to know about any of this but us," she said. "And, of course you're not going to be going off and crying. What kind of talk is that?"

"Nobody but him. And you. You'll both know what a wimp I am. You'll both be laughing at me. He certainly will be. You'll both be thinking less of me. And, it won't be long before everybody else knows and laughs at me too. No, Marie, I'm not into being humiliated and degraded, not even.

"Oh, and Marie, just so you know. I spent half the day today crying. Have a good laugh at that, Marie, you've earned it." The anger and sadness was beginning to take over again.

"I'll contact you in a day or two," I said. "I can't deal with this tonight-this morning." I slammed shut the second suitcase. Grabbed the two of them and hauled them down the hall and out into the night. She didn't follow me to the door or call after me or cry or anything a wife of fifteen years looking at a probable divorce might have been expected to do. I thought that telling.

The tears came again as I drove. The Camelback Lodge would be my address for the next few days while I found another place to live. The room was small; it stunk of sex, and it was likely inhabited by any number of thumb-sized life forms; but, it was cheap. Cheap would be good at least in the short run.

******

I watched as the man left the lot at around 10:00AM. I waited a couple of minutes and headed into the warehouse yard. I parked and went up to the office.

"Hi, Julie," I said to the accountant who'd helped me the day before. "I'm quitting. Need to process the paperwork fast. Can you help me?" I said.

"Ethan, what's going on? Howard said you might be in and wanting to quit. What's going on?" she said.

"I caught him fucking Marie, and I can't work with him anymore. Can that be enough? I really don't want to talk about it, Julie. It kinda hurts," I said. She looked at me stunned.

"Uh-sure Ethan. Ethan, I am so sorry. It happened to me too-you know-so I get it. Two years ago. I caught Paul fucking a neighbor woman. I told her husband, and he dumped her sorry ass for cause. I dealt with Paul the same way. The husband and I even used the same lawyer," she said. I nodded. She got the message and got down to the paper work immediately.

The check for all of my accumulated vacation time and severance, and my last three days regular pay, was in my hand within an hour. Julie was good. Eight thousand dollars would give me a start, but I would need a job soon.

I was pulling out of the lot just as my rival was pulling back in. He stopped. He rolled down his window and said something to me that I couldn't hear at first. I paused, gave him the finger, and was about to head out but lingered a moment longer. I wondered what it was he dared to say to me.

"Ethan, I'm sorry about-that-yesterday. I'm willing to negotiate all of this if you'll just come back inside and talk with me. Just two guys talking," he said. My look must have been answer enough for him. "Okay," he said, "if that's the way it is." I drove out and away. I wondered what he'd meant by the term 'negotiate'; I guessed I'd never really know.

I spent the rest of the day setting up a new bank account, cancelling credit cards, and doing all of the other usual self-defense stuff cuckolded husbands who were about to go through a divorce needed to do. I would give her the house, but no alimony. Hell, I didn't even have a job anymore anyway.

Howard Gilchrist was married. I wondered if his wife suspected his philandering; maybe that's what he wanted to negotiate, my not telling her. I wasn't sure I wanted to get involved with his home situation though; those kinds of things can backfire. But, the more I thought about it, the more I was inclined to give Mrs. Gilchrist a call.

I made the call. I think she fainted. When she came back on the line, she thanked me and promised to let me know, in a choked up voice, what she'd decide.

******

I'd told Marie that I would contact her in a day or two; we needed to settle a few things about the divorce; at least that was my thinking. Well, it was only one day, but what the heck, the time to get it over with was now.

I arrived at what had been my home at noon. I knew she'd probably be there. She was and he wasn't.

She was in the kitchen. "Hello," I said. I stood in the doorway.

"Ethan! What-" She looked frightened.

"What?" I said.

"You didn't call… " she was looking furtively around.

"I needed to call?" I said.

"Well, no, but… " The ringing of the doorbell interrupted our conversation. "Ethan, it's Howard. I was expecting him. I-" she looked sad.

"Oh," I said. "I guess I better get out of here then," I said. "I don't want to come between you and your big cock."

"Ethan, I am so sorry." I knew that she actually was, and maybe even a little embarrassed. She went to the door. I was still in the kitchen. He wasn't going to make me slink out my own back door. I waited for him to come in and face me. Turned out that was a bad mistake.

I could hear them talking. He raised his voice. "What! The asshole is in the kitchen!" I decided to face him down in the front room. I was pretty sure I knew what he was upset about.

We were but three feet apart when he snarled at me. "Mother fucker! You couldn't wait to tell my wife could you asswipe," he said. I'd been right. I knew what he was upset about.

"Figured it was only fair, Howard. You fuck my wife, and I talk to yours. Seems fair to me." That was the beginning of the end for me. The first blow took the wind out of me. After that there was almost no part of my anatomy that didn't receive unwanted attention.

I knew for a fact that I was a bloody mess. Everything hurt. I was certain that I had broken ribs and maybe even a punctured lung-I could barely get a breath.

I made to crawl toward the front door. I heard Marie screaming at him to stop. He finally did. Well, he stopped hitting me anyway. I sank to the floor unable to go any farther; I was about to pass out from the pain. I felt the warm liquid reviving me as it splashed across my face. I looked up to see if Marie was trying to revive me. But it wasn't her. Howard was pissing on my face. I gagged; but ironically it did revive me a little. Marie was still screaming at him to stop what he was doing.

I don't know how I did it, but I made it out to my car and got in. I keyed the ignition and got out of there as fast as I could. I thought I saw George, our neighbor, across the street; but I wasn't sure. I drove to the hospital and literally poured myself out of the car. I woke up in the predictably little green room.

My chest was taped tight. I had an eye patch over one of my eyes. And a splint on my right arm. I was pretty fucked up. But, looking on the bright side, I wasn't dead. Somebody had taken the time to clean me up.

I went out again. I must have been sedated. I woke up after 9:00PM, or so the clock on the wall maintained. I was thirsty, very thirsty. There was a call button hanging from the bars on the side of the bed. I pushed it. A white clad nurse came in and looked at me sympathetically. "How are you, sir," she said.

"Just peachy," I said. "But I'm dying of thirst. Any chance?" She smiled and left. She was back in less than a minute.

"Here you are," she said. I gulped it down. "Uh-sir-your wife is here. She's asleep in the waiting room."

"Under no circumstances is she to be allowed near me. It was her boyfriend who put me in here," I said.

"I know, he brought her here and the police arrested him on the spot hours ago. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. Seems a neighbor of yours saw you crawling to your car and called the police. I know because the cop that arrested the guy is my husband. He told me the whole story, as far as he knew it.

"Your wife said you took a knife and attacked the guy, started the fight really, she said," said nurse Elaine-her name tag was large enough for my good eye to read.

"Bullshit," I said. "He beat me up because I told his wife about him and my wife."

"I figured it might be something like that," said nurse Elaine. I had a thought.

"Nurse, I've changed my mind. If she's alone, I do want to speak with her," I said.

"Really, sir? Are you sure?" she said.

"Yes, but I will keep hold of this buzzer in case I need you, okay?" I said.

"Okay. I'll get her," she said.

She came to the door and peered in. When she saw me, she looked down. I thought I could detect a small sob; I couldn't be sure. She came toward the bed.

"I am so sorry, Ethan. I guess, Howard just lost it. His wife has kicked him out: that's why he went off on you like that. She's a real bitch, I guess," she said.

I couldn't believe my ears. My personal whore and her personal asshole cheat on the asshole's wife and his wife's the bitch! But, I contained myself. "Why are you here Marie?" I said.

"You're my husband, of course I'm going to be here for you," she said.

"Well, thank you for that. You been here all day?" I said.

"Of course. I wouldn't leave you alone while you're like this," she said.

I knew she had something else to say, but she was holding back for the right moment. I could smell it. We talked for some time about how I was feeling and such, and then she got to it. She was clever too; I had to give her that.

"You know, your insurance was cancelled when you quit, but I made Howard reinstate you as a full time employee so you would be covered while you're here," she said. She looked proud of herself. Okay, I knew what was coming next.

"Ethan, do you think you could bring yourself-I mean I know you're a kind hearted person-" she stopped. She was afraid to go on. I waited, as bad as I was feeling physically, I was feeling real good in other ways at that moment.

"Do you think you could not press charges against Howard. He is so sorry for doing this to you. He would like to make it up to you. And, and, he promises, and I promise, to not cuckold you ever again," said my wife. I was so dumbfounded that I couldn't get my thoughts together for some moments.

"Marie, he pissed on me! Did you see that! He fucking pissed on me! Never mind," I said. "He damn near killed me, and then he humiliated me in front of you like no one ever humiliated a husband before! What did you think about that, Marie? What did you think about it! Did you enjoy seeing me like that, him peeing on my face!"

"God no, Ethan. God no. It was awful. I felt awful for you. I really did," she said.

"And yet you still went and talked to the asshole," I said.

"I needed to make sure you got your job back Ethan, and, and the insurance. And-he didn't mean to be so cruel-to humiliate you like that, Ethan. He just lost it. I…"

"Let me ask you. Are you saying if I don't press charges that he won't interfere with our marriage anymore? Is that what you said a couple of minutes ago? You mean you'll come back to me, I mean as my wife?" I said. "You mean no more you getting fucked with his big cock?"

She could see I was playing her. Her tone began to sound a little bit desperate; she really wanted to save the sonovabitch!

"He's a good man, Ethan. He doesn't deserve to go to prison. Punish him yes, but please don't send him to prison. Please don't do that to him, Ethan. I promise our affair is done if you will only grant him a little mercy," she said. "I promise to make it up to you in spades too if you will do this little thing for me-for him."

"You say you are done with him, if I don't press charges?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"But, if I do press charges you'll keep seeing him?"

"Ethan, that's not what I meant at all. Not at all," she said.

"And, our sex life? Yours and mine?" I said.

She smiled. She began to feel a little more relaxed, in control, maybe close to getting what she was asking. "When I said I would make it up to you, that's exactly what I was talking about, young man," she said.

Now it was my turn to smile. "No, Marie. No mercy fucks for me. I finally got the message: I know you don't love me anymore. I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole. As for not pressing charges; I haven't made up my mind about that. If I don't, it'll be because I have other reasons for not doing so. I may not have an eight-inch cock, Marie; but I definitely have a brain, and I ain't gonna be anybody's wimp-assed cuckold. You better go now. We're done you and me. I will let you know about the charges thing later," I said.

"But, it wouldn't be any mercy fuck for you…"

"Just go, Marie, we really are done as husband and wife. Your lover almost killed me. I won't be giving him another chance," I said. She started to go. She was halfway to the door. I called after her.

"Marie, I really have loved you. Hell, part of me probably still does. Goodbye, Marie." I said. She started to say something but just nodded instead. I was once again alone with my thoughts.

******

I pressed charges. He was brought up on aggravated assault. But, as I thought might be the case. Marie testified against me. She told the court I had attacked him with a knife-an out and out lie. The judge, who seemed to know the attorney for the defense really well, knocked the charges down to simple assault; he got sixty days. The judge didn't seem to believe that he had to do all that he did to me just to defend himself, and allowed that, though he had gone a little too far in the heat of the moment, that good 'ole Howie baby had been provoked by the "alleged" knife attack by me.

As Marie was telling her lies, I stared at her with unadulterated hatred. I vowed that someday I would have my turn. She never met my eyes. I was stunned that the judge never picked up on that.

It was a month later that I was served with divorce papers. I should have filed myself, but had decided to let her or her boyfriend pay for it: bad mistake. The court date was short. She proposed, and I counter proposed. She asked for the house; she got it. She asked for alimony; she'd get it when I got a job. She asked for half of my vacation and sick leave accruals; she got those too. She asked for half of my retirement; she failed there; I guess I had to be grateful for small favors.

She sneered at me when we left the courthouse. I just looked at her coldly. Her boyfriend was still inside, but would be getting out in a few days. He would no doubt be buoyed by the fact that my wife had screwed me over in the divorce.

Well, there it was. I was financially ruined. M wife of fifteen years had cuckolded me. I was depressed as hell. And, the supreme irony? I still needed her sexually; I guessed I always would, but I would be losing out there too.

I wasn't sorry I'd gone ahead and preferred charges against the asshole. I had to do it. He'd robbed me of my life and my wife. I'd had to do something.

She'd taken half of my stake. I'd had to find a job in a hurry. I got lucky and got one doing about the same thing I had been doing, but now I was an assistant. The company was a subsidiary of Finegold Industries. I made about two thirds what I had at Gilchrist, and a third of that went to Marie. I was hurting. Another irony was the fact that when Finegold Inc. checked to get my references and work history, Howie baby had given me a good one. I wasn't sure if that was because he wanted to make sure I made the alimony payments to my ex-wife, or if Julie had maybe had something to do with it. But, it did help me get my assistant super position. Who said that life wasn't stranger than fiction.

For those last months before the divorce was final, I cried almost every night. Okay, I really am a pussy. Worse, I'm a pussywhipped pussy. I know it, and I don't give a damn; well, actually I do, but I am helpless to do anything about it. Anyway, I had just the medicine for it. And, my local eighty-proof pharmacist, Charlie, was more than happy to waive any and all limitations on the dosage; and, I abused the privilege with gusto.

The papers separating me permanently from my cheating spouse arrived right on time; some seven months after the incident with Howard baby. I was free, but alone and yes, frightened, shaky.

******

A couple of weeks after I got the final papers, I got a call from Julie, my ally at Gilchrist's. The dynamic duo had married in Vegas. Well, big assed surprise.

It was 7:00PM a couple of days later, and I had been ensconced in my usual location at the end of the bar sipping my usual, a not too dry martini with two Spanish olives.

"Well, whaddya know, it's sadsack," said an all too carefree female voice behind me and to my left.

"Well, if it isn't body beautiful herself," I retorted, after a lazy glance in the direction of the interruption.

She laughed. "Well, I'm glad to see you can appreciate the gorgeosity of the female form at its best," she said. "There may be hope for you yet, not much but some."

"Let me know when you decide," I said.

"Look," she said, turning serious, "Charlie told me about your divorce. Bummer, but shit happens. That's life in the big city, as they say."

I was alone and hurting and still crying in my lonely beer-well, martini, but who gave a damn. "Like to join me for a drink?" I said, out of the clear blue sky.

She looked me up and down and took a seat. "Okay. Bourbon, neat," she said. Charlie had been watching the little scene and showed up with her drink already poured.

"So, you're still lost and lonely," she said.

"You could say that," I said. "It ain't somethin' one gets over in a hurry."

"No, I guess not," she said. "You know-Ethan isn't it-you're a good looking guy. No need for you to wimp out on yourself. Just make the decision to get on with life. Find a girl who can appreciate what you got and do right by her. She'll take care of you and make you forget the bad stuff."

"Yeah, well, that's what I thought I had. I didn't," I said.

"Touché," she said. "Anyway, there are plenty of star quality women out there, trust me I know. You just need to take the time to find one." I looked at her like she had hit on something. She noticed.

"What?" she said.

"You wanna go out sometime? I mean with me?" I said.

"Me? You? I mean with you?" she said.

"Yeah, I'm on the hunt for a star quality woman. You it?" I said. I was figuring that at worst she would demur and then maybe back off the pressure. Well, I saw it as pressure.

"But, you're a white guy!" she said.

I looked myself up and down. "My God! You're right. I never realized until now-Oh my God, what am I going to do? I'm a freakin' white man!" She burst out laughing.

"You still haven't answered me," I said, turning serious.

"Okay," she said. "But, just remember, I never kiss a guy on the first half of the first date."

"Huh?" I said. Now she laughed even harder.

******

We decided to take a chance and hit a country western bar and grill I knew about. The likelihood of running into a swarm rednecks might be increased, but hell, it's a free country; screw the assholes in it.

The Chili Pepper Club, was crowded, but I was able to spot a small high-rise drinks table with too equally high-rise barstools empty beside it. We grabbed them. I signaled the bar girl with the tray; there was always a bar girl with a tray in sawdust joints. She took our order and headed off to fill them.

The drinks came and we talked, sipped our beer, and watched the activity heat up on the dance floor. I was in rare form for a guy who should've been cryin' in his beer. Chelsea laughed at almost everything I said. I wasn't sure if she was employing her brand of therapy or just impressed with my eloquent wordology.

Somebody started a line dance. We left our coats and drinks at our table and hit the floor. It was there that we got a few not too friendly looks from a couple of lowball cowboy wannabes. We ignored them and did our thing; it was fun. Dance over, we headed back to our table. Two newbies had appropriated it.

"Hey, fellas, this is our spot," I said, as politely as I could.

"You weren't here. We are now," said the larger of the two assholes. I was ready to go at it, but Chelsea put her hand on my arm and warned me off. The bargirl was back picking up our drinks.

"Let it go, Ethan. It isn't worth it," she said. I was miffed, but I knew she was right. But right then, the big one crossed the line.

"Tell yuh, what buddy boy. Your darkie there goes outside with me for a little R&R; and we'll buy you a drink. How's that?" he said. The arrogance on the man's face was way over the top. I never even saw it coming.

Chelsea's foot literally flashed. The big guy squeaked rather than yelled and slipped to the floor. He was clearly going in and out of consciousness; his kneecap if not actually broken was seriously bruised. His eyes glazed over and he seemed about to conk out. "Be careful who you proposition asshole," said Chelsea.

By now a dozen bodies had surrounded us.

"I heard the asshole, Mac," said the bargirl to the guy with the baseball bat. "He had it coming. Same as last time." The guy with the club, I think it was the barkeep, just nodded, and told the guy's pal to get the hell out and to take his fallen comrade in arms with him.

The cops arrived just as the two assholes were making it to the door. They, the wannabes, looked sheepish; well, they had been humiliated-by a girl. In a way, I could kind empathize with them. Humiliation was something I knew a lot about. They questioned us and some of the bystanders. One of the latter came forward: shaved head, tattoos, nasty looking fellow.

"Officer, I know this lady, she was a DI at Pendleton a few years back. The asshole picked on the wrong woman tonight," he said.

"Hi sergeant," mister nasty-looking said to Chelsea.

"Back atacha…?" she responded.

"Private Springer, sergeant," he said, identifying himself. She smiled. She didn't know him, but they were both Marines.

We were warned by the police not to cause anymore ruckus or they wouldn't be so tolerant the next time around. The fact that the assholes had caused the problem seemed to get lost in the telling-go figure. But they, the cops, didn't harass us anymore that night; I was grateful for that.

"A Marine? And not only a Marine but a drill instructor?" I said.

"You never asked," she said.

"How was I supposed to ask about that?" I said almost giggling.

"It doesn't bother you?" she said.

"Hell no," I said. "I think it's interesting as hell." She looked at me quizzically.

"Most men don't like it when they find out," she said. "I was hoping to get to know you better before I told you my life story."

"Well, the cat's out of the bag," I said. "The milk is spilt. Water over the dam, whatever. Give." She sighed.

"Okay, but just the short version tonight," she said. I nodded.

"We were poor; didn't have a lot of options. My bothers let me work out with them. I got real strong and real fast-for a girl. When I got outta high school I took the ASVAB, scored a ninety-two-well I had been hanging with my brothers-and I was an A-student. The Marines took me. I made squad leader in a year and was given temporary command of a platoon for short time. I made buck sergeant. Colonel Stansfield saw what I was doing, checked me out, and I eventually ended up at Pendleton schooling raw recruits. Had that duty for seven years before I mustered out. I was in for a total of twenty-years," she said. I looked at her like she was lying!

"You were in the service for twenty years! No way," I said. You look like your twenty-five."

She snickered. "Right. Well, I'm thirty-nine, just," she said.

"Fuckin'-A," I said. "I take it you're pretty good at self-defense and such."

"Very good," she said. She wasn't braggin', she was merely informing me.

"Hah, I wish I was. There are a couple of assholes I could name who I'd love to be able to dance with-I mean like you," I said.

"I could train you," she said. "Might be fun." We laughed and danced and drank some more and put the incident with the assholes behind us. Finally, worn out, we had one for the road and decided to head out.

******

The ride back from the club was slow. She nuzzled me, leaning over and putting her hand on my leg, high up on my leg. I looked over at her. "I think we're on the second half of our first date," I said sounding as serious as I could. She took my face in her two hands and leaned in and kissed me as I tried not to run into a tree or something. God she tasted good.

We went to her place.

"Have a seat, I'll be right back," she said. She wasn't; it took her ten minutes. When she did return she was wearing a black, knee-length negligee, and carrying two glasses of white wine.

She sat beside me on the couch. We tilted glasses, sipped our wine, and said absolutely nothing; it would have broken the mood.

She kissed me. I kissed her. I let my hands roam up and down her arms. I knelt down in front of her on the floor and lifted her nightie, but not too much. I wanted to go slow.

I began kissing the inside of her thighs. She tasted good, and she smelled wonderful. I looked up at her as I began to slowly pull her panties down and off. I nuzzled her bush.

Soon I was licking and sucking on her mons. Her slit was wet, not moist, wet, and almost dripping. I stood and took off my clothes. I was naked and she might as well have been.

As I stood in front of her, She took my cock in her hands and stroked it, very slowly. She leaned in and took it in her mouth. It was the best blow job I had ever gotten. What she was doing with her tongue could not have been found in any Marine Corps manual, but then again, what did I know.

I lifted her up and pulled her down on the floor with me. I rolled on top of her and forced her legs apart. I lay between them rubbing my cock up and down her mons.

"Put it in me, Ethan. I need it. It's been a long time," she said. "I positioned myself and she pulled her knees back and spread herself open for me. I slipped in without the slightest problem. She was wet beyond belief.

I began screwing her slowly and steadily. After some minutes, I don't know how many, I felt myself loading up. I began pumping her for real. She began to hump back at me driving her pelvis into the cruel assault of my cock. She made little squealing noises. Her breaths were coming in staccato bursts; she was having multiple orgasms and I finally unloaded into her washing her insides with my sauce.

We lay there for some moments trying to get back some semblance of routine in our breathing rhythm.

Before the night was over, I had her three more times. The most in my entire life. But, I can't take all of the credit; her tongue did a masterful job of getting me up when I was sure I couldn't get it up no matter what she did.

Sex with Chelsea looked promising as hell!

The next morning I lay musing on the bed while my new best love was showering.

It still rankled that I was a humiliated cuckold, but I was beginning to get some degree of my self-respect back. Dating a girl like Chelsea was a whole new ballgame for me. Yeah she was black, but so was Halle Beery, and I wasn't sure which of the two was prettier. I was dying to see how Marie would react when she found out I was with a woman so much her better that it was actually embarrassing, and yes, black too.

******

She watched him as he rolled off the bed naked as the day he was born. She was well fucked. She had to give him that. His cock would have been hard to replace. He was a helluva a cocksman. He headed for the bathroom to get cleaned up; he still had a company to run.

Missus Howard Gilchrist the first had dumped him and screwed him over even worse than she'd screwed over her husband, ex-husband, Ethan Crowley. She was Mrs. Howard Gilchrist now. The downside to that little reality was that Howard wasn't exactly "all that" when it came to husbandship, but that was okay, she had options. She relaxed waiting for him to come out. The coffee was on downstairs and they would have a roll or two, sip their coffees, and talk some before he had to go.

She was waiting for him and just pouring their cups when he came down.

She sat and watched him hang his coat on the back of an empty chair. He took his seat across from her.

"You look satisfied, little lady," he said.

"Hmm, yes," she said.

"Heard something about you ex today," said Howard.

She perked up. "Ethan?" she said.

"Yeah, he's datin' a nigger woman," he said. All of s sudden he broke out in gales of laughter. "I can't help it," he said. "Him datin' a Jemima, what does that say about his ability to attract women!"

"He attracted me," said Marie, indignantly.

"Exactly," said Howard. Marie fumed.

"Well, I gotta tell yuh, mister, if it weren't for your dick; you wouldn't have attracted this woman for damn sure. And, if you don't straighten up and start acting a little more like-Ethan-you might not be around all that long," she retorted.

"Mercy, mercy," said Howard. "Tell yuh what, let's go dancing tonight. I heard of a country western place that sounds like it'd be fun. Whaddya say?" She looked over at him and seemed mollified.

"All right. But, you better be on your best behavior. Got it," she said.

"Yes, ma'am, yes indeed ma'am," he said. He was trying his best to control his laughter. He did like to dance, and they hadn't been out in a while.

******

The opportunity to lower the boom on his largeness, my cuckolder, my ex-boss and for that matter my ex-love of my life was a while in coming. It was in fact more than full year after the divorce was final in the coming. And of all places it was at the Chili Pepper. Talk about déjà vu.

Chelsea and I had been sitting at our usual table for half an hour when that former love of my life arrived on the arm of her new and improved, larger than me love of "her" life. I nodded in the direction of the door and Chelsea took note. This was going to be interesting. She had never been formally introduced, but she, Chelsea, had been at the divorce hearing and she was there the day of the final decree, so she knew what they looked like. It had been a matter of circumstance that my ex and her lover had not realized who Chelsea was at the time.

Marie was casting around to see if she knew anyone when her gaze fell on me. She smiled; it was clear she was amused by the color of my companion. She nudged her date. He turned. At first he looked surprised; then, he looked as if he had won the lottery. They headed for us.

"Ethan, let's not give them any ammunition, okay," said Chelsea. Mac, our favorite bartender, would not be amused if we messed up the place; he was into peace and love, and well, unbroken furniture.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," said Marie. I just smiled back at her and nodded. I was determined not to let my mouth put my foot in it.

"I see you're expanding your cultural base," said Howard. I remained silent, but my smile faded. I looked over at Chelsea. I could have been wrong, but I had the feeling that she was doing all she could to keep from breaking out laughing; I didn't see what she found that was so funny.

"Well, ta-ta," said Marie, and the two of them wandered off to find a table. We hadn't said a word to either of them.

"Am I wrong," I said, "or were you about to break out laughing at good 'ole Howie baby?"

"Hmm, a little wrong. It's amusing what a complete fool he is. He had no call to come over to us and insult me-or you-bad move on his part. It's how losers like him make themselves feel big. He's not. The fact that your ex is hanging with him brings her down in class too," said Chelsea.

I looked at her realizing for the first time, or maybe not for the first time, but to a greater degree, just how well grounded and self-possessed she was. This girl of mine was no pussy, if that's the right way to describe a woman with so much inner strength.

The dancing started soon after the other two found their table. There was no contest per se, but it was clear that Howie and Marie were trying to out do us. They had no chance. He was too big to ever be a really good dancer, and Marie was clearly not in the best of shape for a long night's exercise. We, on the other hand were.

Chelsea had damn near killed me getting me into shape during the past year. The fact that I was in my late forties cut no ice with her. As far as she was concerned, I was a recruit and I was less than dirt while we were working out. The upshot was that in the final analysis my hands and feet were almost as fast as light, and they never tired. On the upside, the good news was that my dancing skills were mightily enhanced as a result of all of the murderous pain-and-gain she'd put me through.

It was almost ten and I hadn't hardly broken a sweat, and in Chelsea's case there wasn't even a "hardly" involved. Our competitors, however, were sweating a lot and gasping audibly by the end of each dance. It was a mystery to me why they were trying to keep up with us. Well, maybe it was ego; had to be ego, I guessed.

It was after a particularly grueling jitterbug that we happened to have to pass by their table on the way back to our own. No words had been spoken since the opening gambit by the two of them earlier on. That changed now.

It was Marie this time. Her chest was actually heaving. I have to add her that her chest looked real good-well it did!

"Your nigger girl has a lot of stamina," said Marie. I stopped and looked right at her.

"Apologize, Marie, and I mean now," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to say your little piece of fluff, dark fluff," she said.

"Get on back to your table little man," said Howard, backing up his wife.

"Fuck you, asshole," I said. Chelsea was just standing back. She was smiling, but there was not a trace of humor in that smile.

Howard, not to be talked to in such a manner by anybody as small as I was, rose to the bait. "I'm gonna rip you a new anus," he said.

He took a step towards me to shorten the gap between us. I was wearing steel toed cowboy boots. My right boot met his left knee in mid-stride. That was followed by several hooks and a right cross that flattened him and laid him out right then and there. He was semi-conscious.

I looked at Chelsea and smiled. No one wanted any part of Chelsea. Everybody stood back while I pulled my dick out and proceeded to spray his largeness as he had once, long ago, sprayed me. His humiliation was total and public.

Marie was crying and looking around trying to find a place to hide; there was no such place. I looked over at her.

"Payback's a bitch, huh?" I said. She just scowled and then howled. She came at me wanting to hit me. Chelsea stepped between us and slapped her. She hit the floor beside her husband.

Chelsea and I returned to our table as though nothing had happened. Every eye in the place was on us, and the buzz was palpable.

Mac came by our table five minutes later. "You ever pee on my floor again, I'll shoot your ass," he said, but, he was smiling.

"Okay, Mac, it was payback. He did it to me years ago. I just couldn't let the opportunity slide," I said. She shook his head and walked off.

Marie got a glass of water for her hurting spouse and got him back into his seat. They talked for a few minutes while he got his sea legs back, and then they left. He was limping noticeably; I was feeling good.

******

It turned out that more in the way of revenge was on the horizon, and from a surprising source. I got a visit at work from a member of the Marine Corps JAG's office.

I was assigning the day's loading duties on the dock when the uniformed man approached me.

"Judge Advocate General's? What do you want with me? I ain't in the Army," I said.

"Marines," he said. "You know a certain sergeant Chelsea Brown?"

"Yeah, so what," I said.

"Well, she asked us to do her a favor; actually it was my boss she asked. You have a place where we could speak privately for a moment?" I motioned him to follow me. The looks I got from the crew were amusing.

******

I was home a little early. I gave my girlfriend a call. "Yeah, now," I said. She arrived ten minutes later.

"Jesus, Chelsea, I had no idea you had this kind of torque. Who in heck is your contact anyway?" I asked, truly impressed with her explanation.

The JAG guy had left an envelope with me that was truly stunning. It seems that, not only had the judge that had presided at my divorce from Marie been screwing her-Marie that is-but, being bi-sexual, he had also been dallying with her lawyer, Mr. Drake esq. And, the envelope Maj. Conners had handed me before he left, contained pictures. Judge Hanlon was dead meat, as was lawyer Drake, and as well was my ex-wife. I didn't actually lick my chops, but close.

"Lieutenant General Stansfield," she said. I remembered that name.

"Isn't he the guy that promoted you to DI," I said. "But, he was a colonel if I remember right."

"You remember rightly. He's been promoted several times," she said. "I asked him to look into this for me. He has a lot of influence in a lot of places. Places neither of us ever want to know about."

"I will get this to my lawyer tomorrow," I said. "This is going to be fun."

The die was cast and several baddies were going down.

******

The knock on my door the next morning was tentative. Answering it, I was amazed to see Marie. She was dressed to the nines standing there looking as beautiful as I had ever seen her look.

"Can I come in, Ethan?" she said. Ironies of Ironies I kinda wanted to hear what she had to say, but I didn't trust her as far as I could throw a lead football with a broken arm. I waved her in.

"I'll be right back," I said. "I was just about to pee. Have a seat." I disappeared for a couple of minutes and returned. "Whatcha need, Marie."

"Ethan, for the longest time, I have been trying to get my courage up to come and talk to you. I-maybe we-need to clear the air. The talks we did have early on were colored by the anger or jealousy or stupidity of those days when our marriage fell apart," she said.

"Not my fault," I said. "I just wasn't willing to share you. It ain't in me."

"Yes, I know that now, and frankly as far as I'm concerned that was your loss. Your jealousy overwhelmed you, I suppose. I understood that. I would have done almost anything to make it right by you. You really had no idea what you were missing," she said. I had to give her credit; she sure as hell wasn't wimping out, flawed as her logic was.

"I was jealous, maybe, Marie, but, I was hurt more by the betrayal," I said. "Finding you fucking him in my house-well-there were just no words, Marie."

"If you had only given me a chance," she said.

"And what would have been my gain?' I said. "What if I had said okay to your little plan. What? A lifetime of sloppy seconds? Twice a week mercy fucks to keep me from going nuts? What?"

"Where did you get that term," she said. "Mercy fucks? I liked having sex with you. You know that. Any fucking would have been fun fucks, not any of this mercy stuff. But to answer your question.

"We would have had threesomes on occasion. I had talked to Howard about it more than once. We might even have included another woman down the line," she said.

"And the sloppy seconds?" I said.

"Yes, you'd have gotten plenty of them; but, and it's a big but, so would he! But, I never got the chance for any of that did I?" she said.

"Let me ask you, Marie. Have you been having threesomes since we broke up? Just curious," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"With judge Hanlon?" I said. Her eyes shot open and she paled.

"How?…"

"So, what now, Marie? What are you here for? Surely you didn't come here merely to tell me that I lost out on a good thing," I said.

"I came here to tell you that I was in the wrong too. I was stupid. You were a jealous fool, but I was a stupid fool if there is such a thing.

"I-Howard and me-should never of had sex in our house, yours and mine. That was one of the few times, by the way, if it matters," she said.

"It doesn't," I said.

"Well anyway, I wanted to apologize for ruining us. I take full responsibility for the destruction of our marriage. If I could make it right, I would," she said.

"Can I ask why you acted like that toward my girlfriend, Marie. I mean at the Chili Pepper?" I said.

"Hah? You caught me there, big guy," she said. "That night I was the jealous one. I couldn't believe that you were dating a nig-I mean a black girl. She was pretty though; I have to admit that."

"She is that," I said. "Let me ask you another question. You gonna ever give me my due from the divorce settlement." She didn't know it, but she was being given her last chance to save herself.

She smiled. "Gottcha there, didn't I," she said. "I figure you owed me for all the years I had to put up with-well-with everything."

"No, no, since we are being frank, give it to me, all of it," I said.

"Well then, frankly, Ethan, you were only okay in bed, never great. I needed great. So, I feel I am entitled to what I got in the divorce. You shouldn't feel too bad. You got to keep your retirement. I wouldn't have fought for that anyway. You did deserve something after all; you did provide for us," she said. "My lawyer was a pretty clever guy dontcha think." Now I was smiling.

"Neither he nor you were as clever as you think, Marie. And Howie baby is a complete moron. You're all going down, Marie," I said.

She looked wary, concerned. "What are you talking about, Ethan?"

"I'm sorta glad you came by today, Marie. It saved me the trouble of going to your place.

"I have been told to inform you, Marie, that if you testify against his honor, judge Hanlon, that you will get a pass on going to jail for perjury, but you will only get one chance. Just one, then the hammer falls. You shouldn't have lied about me in court. That was flat out perjury," I said.

"I couldn't let Howard go to prison for years, Ethan. Sixty days was bad enough. That is the only reason I lied. You may find this hard to believe but I still loved you then; hell, I still do I guess, at least a little," she said.

"You were so worried about him paying for his crimes. What about what he did to me? What were your thoughts about me when he did those things. Truth please," I said.

"I was sick to my stomach and afraid of what he did to you, Ethan. What he did to you was bad, even evil. He even scared me.

"I felt so sorry for you that I almost left him and begged you to take me back. But-then-I realized that you would get better. In prison, Howard, who I loved too, would rot. So would my heart. I had to weigh the two things, and so I lied," she said.

Finally some logic from her. It was self-serving, and it was an admission of a crime on her part, but at least it made sense. John Stuart Mill would have been proud of her utilitarian thinking.

"I won't be going to jail, Ethan, you can never prove I lied on the stand. And as for judge Hanlon, he's a good man. You have no case against him unless I do testify, and I won't.

"I wanted to clear the air between us today, Ethan. I think I have in a way. At least you know I didn't mean you any harm, that I wanted us to stay together. Heck we could still have a-relationship-if you know what I mean. I mean if you can get beyond your stupid jealousy," she said. "You could even include Chelsea. I know I could talk Howard into it."

"No, no, I don't think so, Marie. But, thanks for dropping by. If you're not in jail do it again sometime," I said. She smirked.

"I'm not going to jail, Ethan. It's over, the divorce, it is what it is, and it'll stay that way," she said.

I handed her a business card. At the same time I pushed rewind on the mini-recorder in my pocket. I stopped it and hit play.

"Ethan, for the longest time, I have been trying to get my courage up to come and talk to you. The talks we did have early on were colored by the anger or jealousy or stupidity of those days when our marriage fell apart," she said.

"Not my fault," I said. "I just wasn't willing to share you. It ain't in me."

"Yes, I know that now, and frankly as far as I'm concerned that was your loss. Your jealousy overwhelmed you…"

"I got it all, Marie," I said. She paled and looked faint. "That card has the number on it that you need to call if you are willing to testify against that asshole judge. Your choice."

"But…"

"It's over, and you lose, Marie. Oh, and Marie, I still wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole. Goodbye."

******

Marie decided that judge Hanlon wasn't such a good guy after all; she testified. The judge didn't get any jail time, but he was disbarred.

Marie has to depend on Howie now since she no longer gets any alimony. And, she has repaid almost all of the four thousand she got from my stake. I was satisfied with that.

Howard got a pass too, but his day would come, oh yeah. He evidently had a whole lot stuff to say about Mr. Drake; stuff the D.A. was most appreciative to receive. Seems Mr. Drake had stuck it to the man, the D.A., a couple of times. Well, payback is a wonderful thing, I guess. He and Marie are still married, how happily is problematical.

As for me, I just wanted to get away from it all. I didn't sue or look to stick it to the judge or any of them. I guess, I'm just a mellow guy, so shoot me in the ass.

Julie keeps me informed. She is a regular guest at our house. She has become a good friend of Chelsea's. Oh, yeah, Chelsea and I got married. We still workout together, dance together, and Julie and her new boyfriend-a Marine by the way-join us on the dance floor regularly.

Life is good.

-----------------------------

   Series:Finnley and April Matson
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She loves her husband most, but needs just a bit more...
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/70735/finnley-and-april-matson
Published:2012-03-30
We'd been sitting at the table furthest from the bar having, what any interested spectator would have judged, a spirited conversation. April Mulrooney, my intended had just laid it on me that she had indeed been seeing other men, read screwing them, and that as recently as the night before. Oh, she had assured me that none of them were a threat to our plans, but I was not having any!

We'd had a date that she'd stood me up for. When I'd fortuitously caught her at the Red Light with her stud of the moment; she'd flushed, stammered, and tried to get me to sit down with them. I'd opted to flip them off and cut country instead. But, that was last night. When one hour ago, she'd cornered me here, I'd decided to get the mandatory last conversation with her over with. Well, and so here we were.

"Any chance for us, Finn," she said. I slowly shook my head in the negative. Begging not getting her anywhere, she decided to go on the offensive.

"Finnley Matson, you love me, and I love you. Why can't you understand that! This thing with the others-it's just-well, sex. There is no emotional attachment like I have with you, like you and I have. It's just fun stuff when you're not available."

"Fun stuff? Not available? We had a date last night, April. I was available as hell; actually looking forward to a good time with you! You, on the other hand, stood me the hell up to screw somebody else. And, even though I'd caught you, you still went home with the asshole and fucked him. Explain that if you can, April!"

"I almost didn't go home with him, Finn. But, I'd led him on. And, well, I figured that if you were going to dump me that I might as well go ahead and do it with him. Finnley, if you'd only have stayed and talked it out with us…"

"Talked it out-'with us'! You actually expected me to sit down with the guy you were going to cheat on me with and be okay with it. Tell me, was that what you really thought! You're a trip and a half, woman, a trip and a half for damn sure.

"We're engaged, April, or rather were. And, we are, but three months from graduation, and are-were-only four months from being man and wife," I said. "How do you expect me to level that with you screwing everything on campus with a third leg? No, there is no chance for us, April, not a chance in hell. And, I pity any fool stupid enough to hook up with you. Thank god I found out about you before it was too late. Have a nice life. No don't-I don't want you to be happy. I want you to be as miserable as you've made me!" I stood, turned, and left her sitting there.

******

I hadn't seen or spoken to April since the blowup. But on grad day I saw her. Oh yeah, I saw her; she was in a huddle with her parents. She noticed me staring at her and flashed me a smile.

My anger had abated some over the three months since Gotterdammerung, but I didn't smile, anger abatement or no. Did I miss her? Hell yes I missed her. Enough to give us another chance? Hell no! At least that's what I kept telling myself.

We were still in our grad suits when she came up to me. I was talking to a few friends and making plans for that evening: basically plans to party hardy!

"Hello, Finn, congratulations," she said. I looked her up and down. She had a sad look about her.

"Hello, April. Congratulations to you too," I said.

"Finn-could I have a word with you? Would that be all right? You know for old time's sake," she said. I stared at her. She was so beautiful. I nodded and stepped away from the group I was with. She walked with me.

"I guess I blew it, huh?" she said.

"We've had this conversation, April, three months ago," I said.

"I've changed, Finn. I haven't slept with another man during that whole time," she said. I remained silent. I had nothing to say.

"Doesn't that make a difference?" she said.

"What do you want me to say, April? You killed my heart. You say you've been celibate for the past three months, but then how do I know that that is so. And, even if it is, how do I know that you won't revert to past habits in the future. And even if you never do do it again, how do I get around the fact that you were hanging horns on me for the entire three years we were going together, the last as each other's intended! Kinda hard to get by that much doubt and anger huh, April," I said.

"Finn, like I said, I blew it. I know it, and I; well, I would like you to give me another chance," she said. I think my jaw must have dropped a yard.

"Another chance? You're serious?" I said.

"As a heart attack," she said. "I will never cheat again, Finn, not ever. I promise you that. You're my main man. None of those others ever meant anything; but, that said, I know that I was in the wrong, crazy in the wrong. I will make it up to you in spades if you just give me half a chance."

I looked her in the eyes. Main man? What did that mean? And did I believe her whatever it meant? I wasn't sure. Would I want to risk making her mine? Frankly, no. And, frankly again, I didn't want to risk having my heart broken a second time. That said, I considered that there might be a way. It was not sure fire, but almost: live together for a year and include a prenup if we made it that far and got married.

******

We moved in with each other the next day. It was a good day: one filled with promise. But, one thing, one minor downside to her moving in with me, was the massive amount of stuff she brought with her. It was-well-massive!

Things went along well for the next several months. Seven months actually. Then, she laid it on me.

"Finnley, I know we talked about waiting a year, but it's been seven months already. Do you think we might be able to short shank things and get married now," she said.

I looked her in the eye. The look was innocence incarnate. I was more than persuaded that she hadn't doublecrossed me during the months we'd lived together. Could she have and kept it from me? Possible, but not real likely. We were together almost constantly during that time. On the rare occasions that we were not, I had to believe that she was doing whatever she'd said she was doing. She knew the price that she would have to pay if she played behind my back.

All of the aforementioned said, and apart from the fact that we'd had an agreement, I had no good reason not to accede to her request. So, I did. We were married in front of a justice of the peace. And, the prenup? Didn't happen. And, no, not because she'd said anything about it, but because I had come to trust her. That, added to my undeniable love for her, made a prenup a non-happening. And so was launched the family of Finnley and April Matson nee Mulrooney.

******

The next eleven years weren't good; they were outrageously wonderful! Well, they were for me. And, up until five minutes ago, I had thought that they had been just as good for April. But, five minutes ago, I discovered my wife in our bed with a man, one I had never seen before. The worst of it was that my lovely wife, the light of my life, actually had the brass cajones to assume I'd could be persuaded to be okay with it. I knew that because that's what she told me-five minutes ago.

"Finn, today, this thing that you came upon by accident. Well, it wasn't exactly by accident," she said.

"Huh? What are you saying, April?" I said.

"Finn, I didn't exactly set you up, but I knew that sooner or later you'd come home early and catch me and Roger-well-doing what we were doing," she said. "And, Finn, it's a good thing."

"Fucking! I said. "Cheating! Cuckolding me! That's what you were doing, and now my marriage and my woman are gone, and it's over. Eleven years in the toilet," I said. "And you are actually trying to tell me it's a good thing!"

"Heavens no! I mean yes," she said. "All it does is prove that I love you and only you," she said. I think I was going cross-eyed with something-rage, confusion, something.

"You're insane!" I said. "Looking back, I should have expected it. You just couldn't keep your word to me. Goddamn it, I blame me! I'm the stupid jerk for damn sure. You're just a whore! Stupid is worse!"

"Finn, hear me out. Let me prove to you that my playing is no threat to you," she said. I remained silent. What could one say to the kind of insanity she was selling in any event. Damned if I knew.

"You are a hundred times the man Roger Wilcox is; well, in every way but one. You are at best mediocre in bed. Roger is something else."

"How long," I said.

"Huh?" she sighed. She seemed to lose a little of her self-assurance, but she shook it off and reseized the initiative.

"Two years. I met him at one of the parties we went to. I felt his dick through my dress while we were dancing, and well, I had to have it; and, so I did."

"Two years? Two fucking years!" I all but screamed.

"Calm down, Finnley. Think about it. Two years, and you and I have done great, been great, are great. You have to give me that," she said.

"Yeah, I'll give you that, April. Yeah right! And now it's all ashes. Thanks a helluva a lot.

"No good in bed am I? Well, I am so sorry for disappointing you for so long, I mean the eleven years. I'm happy for you, I mean now that you've found a real man. You know, now that you have found someone who can fulfill your needs.

"I'll be leaving, in the morning. I won't be back. Oh, and I won't be divorcing you. You can have the pleasure of doing that. What I also won't be doing is supporting you anymore.

"So, just do me a favor, okay? Stay the hell away from me," I said.

"Finn, Roger, is a decent sort, rather boring other than in bed; but there, in bed, he is nothing less than spectacular. You are spectacular too, Finn, in every other possible way it is to be as a husband and friend," she said.

"Friend? Not lover, Not love of your life. Friend? Acquaintance? I don't want to be your goddamned friend, April, I wanted to be your husband, the love of your life. Not some goddamned cuckold fool. Fuck you, April! Fuck you!"

"Finn, your language! Please. Listen, Roger is a plaything, nothing more," she said. "You and I can get by this. He's just a toy. And, he will be gone one of these days, and he'll be nothing more than an amusing memory. And, have I ever denied you sex? Anything in bed? The answer is no, Finnley, and you have to admit that."

"Amusing memory! I'll say it again, April, fuck you!

"Oh, and as for not denying me sex. No, you haven't, not in absolute terms; but more and more in recent times I've had to beg for it, all but argue with you. It's gotten to the point that I've stopped asking in case you haven't noticed. Oh, and now that I think on it, you haven't noticed have you. Well, and why would you? Your needs are being met, just not by me!

"When was the last time we did it, April? Do you recall?"

"Well-I-I'm not sure…"

"Exactly. It was three weeks ago, April. And when we did do it that night, you laid there like a dead thing until I shot my wad and then got up and showered. And you didn't even kiss me good night when you came back to bed. Yeah, you've been a paragon of sexuality when it came to me all right-not!" I said.

She had the decency to look down. Maybe even feel a little shame.

"Oh my God Finn, I didn't-I didn't realize what I was doing to you. You know, acting like you say. But, now that you say it, I guess what you say so-and well-I'm sorry. I will make it up to you if you let me," she said.

"You need to get this, April. I'm saying it for the last time; then I'm going to bed, in the guest room. I will never spend another minute in the bed you desecrated with that asshole. And fuck you!"

"Finn, we'll get rid of the bed. I wasn't thinking today. I wasn't. I don't know what I was thinking using our bed. Jesus what a Dumbo I am. You are so right, Finn, the bed is gone. We'll both use the guestroom. Okay?" she said.

"No," I said. "I can't stand the sight of you. Or the smell of you, the stink of a cheater is on you, April, his stink. You and I will never sleep together again." I started to head off and out, but stopped.

"April, one thing. When we started this conversation you said, well, you said a lot of things; but there was one thing. You said that you hadn't set me up, but that you expected me to catch you; and that that was a good thing of sorts. Did I have that right? I mean why was it a good thing for me to catch you?" I said.

She was starting to cry, but wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I thought, that maybe-well maybe-that Roger and I could maybe excite you. You know get you excited enough to join us. What we, he and I, were doing. It hasn't hurt you and I, Finn, not really. Like I said before. But, thinking about what you just got done saying, maybe it has. Honest to God, I didn't realize I was neglecting you like that. I am so ashamed of myself, Finn. Really, I am. I'm just hoping that you'll cool off some and maybe give me another chance." I nodded, then shook my head. This was beyond belief, beyond rational-unbelievable!

I headed off to get my stuff out of the bedroom closet and the bathroom. I'd be gone at first light.

Her? She sat on the couch, head in her hands. I don't think she was full out crying, but she was kind of talking to herself-weird.

******

I was up and out of the house-almost-before she got up. She woke just as I stepped out of my bedroom door and ran after me as I carried my stuff down the stairs. "Finnley, don't leave me. Please!" she wailed. I turned and looked at her.

"I'll call in a day or two and we'll maybe talk. Or, maybe not," I said. "I just don't know. After what you said to me about my love making skills; well, that more than even what you did to me, may have put us beyond the pale. There may be no reconciling from those, those words, April. But, like I said, maybe we'll talk." Then I was gone.

******

Carlisle estates was a five minute walk from my office at Hampton Accounting. Mike Hampton had been good to me, but it'd still taken me ten years to make it; but I was finally a senior accountant with the firm: profit sharing, bonuses, a slew of really good perks. All of that added to a $100K annual base. Life'd been good until the light of my life had cast a shadow over it.

Carlisle was a condo complex that had all of the amenities including Debra Cross, my new next door neighbor: young, pretty, and on the make-for me; go figure. Debra was doing her best to make me forget my wife; and yes, April was still my wife. Divorce wouldn't work for me the way I saw it. The courts have a habit of screwing over husbands no matter how justified they'd been in divorcing the miserable whores they'd married. If the traitorous bitch wanted out, she'd have to be the one going for it.

Since dumping her, I'd buried myself in my work. It was tax time, so business was-well-busy. I had an even six junior accountants under me, and production was good. I was looking forward to the end of season, maybe taking a few weeks off and heading to Mexico for sun and relaxation. I was even thinking of inviting Debra to join me. It'd be nice to share a beach towel with her; she was a no pressure girl; the kind every guy dreams about.

As I walked home thinking about Debra and my maybe vacation, a car pulled up beside me. The driver called out to me to wait. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him, not right then.

He came up to me and gestured toward the bench a few feet down the sidewalk from where we stood. I looked him askance.

"Just like a word with you if you have a minute, mister Matson," he said. I still couldn't place the guy-a customer maybe. I took the seat he indicated.

"The name's Roger Wilcox," he said. "I'm the guy you caught banging your wife that day some months ago." I could feel my mood darken. I got up and started to walk away. So far I hadn't spoken a word.

"Wait please," he said, as I walked on. "It'd be worth your while." I stopped and looked back at him.

"Whaddya want asshole?" I said. I was measuring him with my eyes. We were about the same size, five-nine or ten. I figured him to have maybe twenty pounds on me. But, I figured, if it came to blows, my chances were pretty good.

"Your wife-she hasn't been doing too good," he said. "Thought you should know."

"Why, she's not mine anymore. She dumped me for you. So fuck off and leave well enough alone," I said. "You take care of her." I started to walk on, but he fell in beside me."

"Look, guy, it's been more than eight months since you left. She hardly leaves the house. And, before you ask, yes, I'm staying there; somebody has to pay the rent," he said.

"Lucky you. Take care of my roses, okay. They took me a long time to get them going."

"Roses? How about your wife," he said.

"She can help you take care of them," I said.

"Look, I know you're upset with her-us. But, you needn't be. She wants us to include you in the fun. She was sure you'd go for it; well, she was hoping. And, what we do is fun," he said. "Since you left we've only had sex a few times. She keeps hoping you'll come to your senses and realize that you belong together. She loves you, man. She likes me, likes my eight-inch dick, but she loves you."

"Well, let me put it this way, mister Wilcox; she was wrong, dead wrong. I actually believe in the sanctity of marriage," I said.

"No way I can convince you to see her, talk to her," he said.

"None," I said.

"How incredibly plebian," he said. "Well, I guess I'll have to go to plan B then."

"Goodbye, mister Wilcox; you have a nice life," I said. Just then another man came up to me and handed me an envelope.

"You're served," he said. I looked at him like he had two heads.

"Cost me a grand to have you served; she didn't have the moola," said mister Wilcox. "For the record she didn't want me to do it; thought we'd done enough to you already. But, I told her it was the only leverage she had; so, she went along."

"I don't care about this. I figured she'd go for it sooner or later. There's no leverage for her in this," I said.

"Sure there is. You don't go see her and give her a chance to sell her wares-her ways-she will absolutely rape you in the divorce. You'll be drivin' around in a thirty year-old Datsun, and wearin' shoes with holes in the soles," he said.

I could feel my face go pale. I'll counter sue on grounds of adultery. She won't be makin' out as good as she thinks she will," I said.

"Maybe, maybe not. But, here's the deal: plan B. You give her a week to sell you on her ways, and she'll sign off on a divorce with no alimony, no touching your retirement, no support of any kind; and, she'll leave you alone forevermore. Whaddya say?" he said.

"She'll-the both of you-will leave me alone? I mean forevermore? And, no nuthin' in the divorce for her or for you? Am I hearing this right?" I said.

An idea began to take shape in my head. I'd record her promises. What did I have to lose? It'd be painful being around her; well, I still loved her. Seein' her, smellin' her, it was going to be tough. But, it would only be tough for a week. Then, I'd be the hell outta there. She was imagining things if she thought I was going to buy into her idea of a lifestyle.

"Yes, that's what I'm saying," he said. I nodded.

"Deal," I said.

******

I'd made the deal, and I had a plan. So, here I was parked in front of the house. I was parked, I was here, and I was nervous, plan or no plan. I knew they wouldn't be able to convince me to accept their shit, but the odd thing was that it scared me that she was so sure that she could! What was it that they knew that made them so sure; and, was I really so certain that they couldn't corrupt me? I opened the car door and got out. I took my time getting to the front door. I knocked.

"Hello, Finn," said April.

"Hi Bud," said Roger.

I just nodded at the two of them. It had to be obvious that I was very suspicious of their game. But, the recorder in my pocket was-presumably-getting it all.

"Let's adjourn to the kitchen if that's all right, guys," said April, taking charge of the situation. I still hadn't said anything. I followed them to what used to be my kitchen, mine and April's. Now, it was his and April's. I looked wistfully around. Helluva thing. I actually felt uncomfortable sitting in the same old chair at the same old table, staring at the same old walls.

I noticed that she'd let me sit in the place I always had before: my place. Likewise she sat in her old seat. She'd planned. I was sure of that, I could see that.

"Can I ask a question?" I said, asking a question.

"Of course, honey," said April. Honey? I thought. This was going to be a full court press if ever there was one. I ignored her words.

"Why do you want me here? Why do you give a damn about me or what I need or want or any of it? Why do you even care if I live or die? It makes no sense," I said.

"I'd tell you I love you, but you wouldn't understand that, I'm sure. How about this. I did you wrong, and I feel guilty and want to make it up to you. Or, how about you make a lot of money, and I need you to support me. Or, how about I'm hot for your body and I can't get enough of your lovin'" she said. "Frankly, Finn, all of the above are true to one degree or another. And coming full circle, all of that brings me back to square one, Finn; I love you."

"I can't satisfy you in bed, April. You've told me so. What's changed? Let me answer my own question, nothing," I said.

"Finn, I said stuff kinda like that, but my meaning was nothing like that. What I meant then, and even now, is that you're not as good as Roger, but you're not all that bad either. You're okay actually," she said.

"So again, what can I do for you?" I said. She smiled-way too broadly-actually I was worried.

"You'll be sleeping with me in our old room," she said. "And, Finn, so you won't feel uncomfortable about it; it's got a new mattress and box springs; they came today; they've never been used. Okay?"

I raised an eyebrow at that. But, I'd had to figure she'd been plotting something of the sort to "sell her wares." I nodded my acceptance of my fate.

"Okay," I said. "If that's my fate. It is what it is."

"Finn, please. For the next few days, please. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, okay." I said.

"He'll be in the guest room for the first couple of days," she said, nodding in Roger's direction.

"Huh? What?" I said. I was more than afraid I knew what she was intimating.

"Don't sweat it, Finn," he said. "It'll be fun. Give us a chance. Okay?" I nodded, but more slowly this time; and, I wasn't smiling.

******

Dinner was good, beef stew, my favorite. Did I say I figured to get the full court press. Dinner was good, as I said, but it was quiet. No one seemed ready to start jabbering. A few inane comments and observations, all of it about nothing, were pretty much the end all of it.

I helped her with the dishes-well, she asked. I didn't know what happened to him, the other man, but he'd made himself scarce after dinner. I kept getting knowing looks from April. I was more than sure what they meant. I intended to just go with the flow. Let her take the lead. I was not, I repeat, not, going to be complicit in their plans. I'd play their game because I was relatively certain that she would honor her promise to leave me alone in the divorce, and I was going to have it all recorded in any event. At any rate, she'd get her turn at bat, but her chances for hitting a home run were damn near nil. Yeah, her luck figured to be more like Casey's than Babe Ruth's.

I was drying my hands on a small hand towel. "Time for bed, okay?" she said.

"Yeah sure," I said. She smirked at my lack of enthusiasm but said nothing.

In the room, I disrobed leaving only my underpants on. I plopped down on the bed and waited for her to exit from the bathroom. She was maybe ten minutes in the process. I looked over at the bathroom door as she came out. She had seldom looked more beautiful, more sexy. I said so.

"You look fantastic," I said. She smiled.

She was in a knee length slip and sported a red choker and what looked like a silver anklet. I wondered at the anklet. I remember reading somewhere that when a woman wore an anklet it meant she was available or some guy's plaything or something like that. I had to think it signaled that she was Roger's toy, but for the moment all I could think of was making her my toy.

Her long dark hair splayed out around her shoulder and gave her a teenagerish look. She came near the bed but didn't get on it. She stood a few feet away and stared at me, a half smile playing around her lips. God how I wanted her! But, also didn't want her. A week like this could have me on my knees begging her to let me come back, but the humiliation, the daily psychological riot: I knew I couldn't do it. I waited for her to make the first move.

"You said I look fantastic. You going to do anything about it?" she said, finally wrinkling her brow and showing some signs of concern. I guess I had on a-what-thoughtful look.

"You should be mine and mine alone, April. God, how I want you right now. But, you're not mine. You're his. And-we-I-think it is just too sad. My underpants, tented but a moment before, no longer were. I rose, gathered my clothes and started dressing.

"What are you doing, Finn? What are you doing!" she said.

"I'm dressing. I can't bed you knowing that it's nothing but a mercy fuck to get me back for I don't know what reason, maybe my income, I don't know. But, I can't. I need a one man woman. I'm afraid I'm not cut out to be a cuckold. Go to your boyfriend. It'd be a shame to waste all that beauty on a nothing-in-bed item like me," I said.

Just then she did something I didn't expect. I mean I really didn't expect it. She came at me with surprising strength and pushed me down on the floor. It happened that I was just then pulling on my pants, and I was on one foot; I went down easily. She rolled on top of me and began kissing me and reaching for my cock… She was, I think, shocked to discover that I wasn't hard. She stopped, slid off of me, and sat up on the floor drawing her legs back to her chest. She was more embarrassed than I was; and, I was embarrassed!

"Do I turn you off that much," she said. She was beginning to cry.

"Hell no," I said; "or actually, yes. What you are doing and have done and plan to do to me: those are the things that turned, and are turning, me off.

"I can't do it, April. I can't. I can't be your cuckold. I just can't get it up for a woman who is of the opinion that I'm no good in bed, no matter how desperate I get. I thought I could get through the week, but I realize now that I can't. Seeing you like that, when you came out of the bathroom, trust me; I was-am-desperate!" I said.

"Finn, I love it when you make love to me. I do. I don't think you're no good in bed. Yes, Roger is very good, but he isn't you. I'm not trying to get you back for your money. I'm trying to get you back because I need you. I need his dick too, but it really is only a part time toy! Nothing more! Jesus, I'm sorry, and I mean forever sorry, that I said those things to you. I had to have been out of it mentally to have said them. I don't know. All I do know is I want to take everything I said back! Please, grant me the 'mercy' to let me take back the stupid stuff I said. Please!" she said.

"I've said it before, April. But, I'll say it again. My woman must, that's must, be a one man woman. So go ahead and sue me for divorce. Screw me over if you must-if you can. Nothing you could get from a judge will even begin to hurt me as much as what you've already done to me. And, 'me,' be here when you do him! No fucking way! I can't at all believe that I even considered it. But, I've got my head out of my ass now. So, goodbye, beautiful lady. Goodbye," I said. I'd kept dressing while we talked. Done, I looked around for what I figured would be the last time. Then, I left.

******

She watched him from the door way as he slept. He was a pretty boy for sure: not too tall, some gray flecks in his otherwise dark wavy hair; but a pretty boy. He was having a dream; the tent in his pants was testimony to that. She could feel the tears run down her face as she moved across the room and climbed into bed with him. She needed to be comforted. Women always needed to be comforted, she thought to herself.

He stirred. He rolled toward her and his eyes flickered open. His head suddenly jerked up from the pillow. "What? How? Finnley?" said Roger.

"He left," said April. "He said I looked fantastic, and up and left. Said being my cuckold was more than he could bear. But-well-I think it was more a case of what I'd said to him before. You know about him not being all that in bed. God how I wish I could have those words back. They killed his heart," she said.

"Yes, I'm sure it probably did. I don't know what you could have been thinking when you told him that. It was crazy, April. A man, any man, wants to believe he's enough for his woman. You verbally castrated the guy when you told him, that he simply wasn't enough. Destroyed his self-esteem; he doesn't have any anymore. I don't know that you'll-he'll-ever be able to get it back now. And I mean his manhood. If he does, you can bet it will be a long time in coming," He said. Her tears were nonstop now.

"Jesus, Roger, I was only trying to be honest with him. I told him that in every way but the one, he was tops," she said. She didn't immediately notice the look on Roger face when she spoke,

"April, I know you didn't mean to hurt me just now, but you did. I mean, I love it that you think I'm the best in bed. But, I have some good points besides just in there, don't I?" he said. She looked at him funny.

"Listen woman, just now, you as much as said that I'm no good at anything except sex. Or, at best no better than an also ran compared to Finnley. Now the fact is, that as bad as that sounds to me; and trust me, it doesn't make me feel good; I can live with it. I can because the most important thing to me as a male is the fact that I'm supreme in bed. I couldn't live with my woman thinking that I was a nothing sexually. As a man that would be just too hard for me to swallow."

"Oh, Roger, I wasn't putting you down. Of course I wasn't. I love you too: different than Finn, but just as much.

"Oh hell, I can't stop shooting zingers at my men no matter what I do, can I," she said. Roger looked away.

"Oh hell, is right, April. Make that 'Oh hell Finn should've been here to hear you'. Maybe it would have made him feel a little better, just as it made me feel a little worse," said Roger.

"Huh?" she said.

"Loving two men, even if it is for different reasons, April, is a tough go 'round. I can dig what's going on in Finn's head. He had you all to himself, and then you up and tell him the game's changed, and he has to share you. Had to be pretty tough for him. Even tougher than we-the both of us-thought.

"But, then again, me maybe not so much. I came in knowing I'd be sharing a married woman, so my expectations were different. Even so, and that said, you telling me that he is better at everything but sex is kind of a tough nut for me; just not as tough for me as it is for him being labeled worthless in bed. See what I'm getting at, April. Two men is too hard, and that for the two men and for you, April. I never thought I'd say this, I mean ever. But-well-it may be that you're going to have to choose," said Roger. Her eyes shot open.

"No!" she said. "Roger, I can't lose you. I need you." She suddenly lost her voice. Her almost unconscious decision became clear, clear to both of them: if she were made to choose, it wouldn't be Roger.

"I see," said Roger. "I see."

"Roger, I need you. Don't make me choose. Please don't make me," she wailed.

"I don't mind being second in line, April, so long as it's sex you're keeping me around for; but… " he started.

"But?" she said.

"But, all this this weeping and wailing over the absence of numero uno is getting to me, and to you. We have to try again. Make that I have to try again," he said.

"Try what? You try what?" she said.

"Try to get him to join us, at least tolerate us. You tried and failed. I guess it's time I took my shot. I hope he likes to drink beer-free beer. Because, if I can work it, he and I are going to get stinkin' drunk and come to some serious understandings. I'm gonna get him to go along even if I have to fight him. Don't be surprised if you get a call to bail the one or the both of us out of the slam," he said.

"He'll not fight you, Roger. You're muscles are too big," she said. He smiled at her

indulgently.

"Don't bet on it. A man will risk anything if his ego's been stepped on hard enough, and his has. I will, however, be doing my level best to avoid that scenario; even though, it might be cathartic-and I mean for him-to get it on with me. Anyway, we'll just have to see how it plays out," he said.

"Rogggeeerr!" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. No catharsis if it can possibly be avoided. I promise," he said.

"Don't worry. I'm not after him. I want him to join us. It's selfish of me, actually. I don't want to lose what I have with you; and, I know I will if this situation we've

******

"Hampton Accounting," I said, picking up the phone.

"Hi," said the female voice on the other end of the line.

"Debra?" I said.

"Yes, sir, it's me. I'm across the street at LaRue's. It's lunch time, and well, do you have any plans?" she said.

"No, as a matter of fact I was just going to stay in, but if you're interested in company… " I said.

Yes, yes I am. Come on over if you can," she said.

Debra and I had shared a bottle or two in recent months, and even did a little dancing and hand holding a couple of times when we both were feeling a little down, or, in her case bored. Nothing serious was likely to happen between us, but she was pretty and tall and sexy if a little light intellectually. And, I liked her. And, she liked me.

"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks. Where'd yuh disappear to?" she said.

"Just been busy," I said.

"Been negotiating with your wife, or soon to be ex or… " she said. I was going to have to rethink my impression of her intellectual capabilities.

"Yeah, sort of. But, it doesn't look good from where I sit. She is still trying to get me to join in her cute little sex games, and I'm not into it. Truth is her thinking, her ideas, would be a turn on were it not for the fact that she holds me to be sexually boring and well, useless.

"Oh, she wants me back right enough; there's not much doubt about that, but not in the capacity of a thrilling bed partner. In that regard, it would be strictly a matter of her granting me mercy and faking orgasms to satisfy me enough so as not to not have me objecting too strenuously to her fucking good 'ole Roger or whoever," I said.

"But why?" said Debra. "Why would she be wanting you back if she is already more than satisfied with this other guy, this Roger?"

"I don't know. My income maybe. I make three times what he does. She swears it's not the reason. Swears she loves me. But, well, I'm not convinced, not really," I said.

"Hmm. Then, you should date me. I make enough so as to remove any suspicion that I'd be after your money, and I like you a lot," said Debra.

"I like you too, Deb. It's-it's-it's just I can't cheat on her. No fun in the sack for me until we settle it all. If we get back together, I'm gonna make damn sure she doesn't have anything to hold over me. If we don't, I'm gonna be after you with both hands," I said. I was smiling broadly. Well, she'd made me feel good.

"Hmm, okay," she said. "I can wait-a little while." Now she was smiling, sort of.

******

I was at the far end of the bar. Marge Cassidy was on duty and doing her duty rather well, a fact I was infinitely grateful for. She had tenure at the King's Court Bar and Grill: been serving drinks behind the same bar for twenty years or so she claimed. I was tilting back my second brew when somebody tapped me on the shoulder.

"Finn," he said.

"Wilcox! Get the fuck outta here. Leave me alone," I said.

"I'm not going anywhere until you hear me out," he said. I slid of the stool I was sitting on and did my best to stare him down. He smiled.

"Look, Finn, she loves you. You need to give her the chance you said you would the last time you and I talked. It won't kill you. She… " My first punch took the wind out of him the second one staggered him.

"Getting the message, asshole?" I said. He was back pedaling, but keeping an eye on me as I trudged after him. He stopped.

"Okay, I guess we gotta do this," he said.

"For real," I said

The other patrons in the bar were stone silent. No one was making a move to do anything to interrupt the proceedings.

He threw a couple of jabs my way and the second one stung, but not all that much. Then he was on me. The next thing I knew some woman was wafting smelling salts under my nose. It was one of the bar girls.

"Stand aside, please" said a voice from behind her. She stood and backed off. The paramedic s took over. I was more or less conscious again and beginning to feel real bad. But all of a sudden I felt myself getting mad.

Where is the motherfucker," I said, trying to get up.

"Take it easy, fella, you're kinda busted up. Let us do our job, okay," he said. The paramedic said.

Somebody in the ambulance hooked me up to an IV. I was out in less than a couple of minutes.

The light filtering through the window shades woke me. A nurse was fooling with some machine or other across the room from me.

"Miss? How long?" I said.

Since last night, sir. But the doctor will give you the details," she said. And he did.

"You took some pretty significant hits to the head. And, I think you hit your head on a table edge. We'll be keeping you for a day or today to be sure your okay," he said.

"Okay," I said. I was already getting tired again, sleepy.

******

"You just had to hit him, didn't you, Roger. You're bigger than he is. You had no right," said April.

"April, he attacked me. I was afraid he would, and I did my best not to be provocative. Really!" said Roger. She seemed to deflate some.

"I know. I guess I know," she said. "I so want to be with him right now. But, I know he'd probably have me kicked out."

"Maybe. You never know. April, you are a good person, woman. And, I do want to say, again, that I am so appreciative of you coming down this morning to bail me out of that place. It was getting pretty bad for me in there. I'm not used to that kind of treatment. Nobody should have to go through that stuff-ever!" he said. "I'll tell yuh, I'd almost rather be where Finnley is than where I was; and yes, I know how awful that must sound."

"No problem, sir," she said. "I will always be there for you. And for him too if he'll let me. God how I love that man and all I ever seem to be able to do is hurt him: either his heart or now his body." He nodded his understanding of where she was coming from.

"You know, April, this is the hospital cafeteria. He is just upstairs. You could go up and see him. You know look in on him. To be honest, I'd like to know he is going to be all right too. I feel bad puttin' a hurt on him like that," said Roger. "He bumped his head going down. I couldn't help it; he was coming at me real hard. There was no quit in the guy last night-none," he said.

She was about to respond when she saw him. "Roger?" she said.

"What?" he said.

"By the entrance, in the wheelchair," she said.

"Oh my God!" he said. "And he's being wheeled this way."

"He seen us," said April. The orderly wheeling him in brought him up to the table.

"Yes, right here, Mack," I said. She was less than ten feet from me, sitting on the other side of the table that separated us, and next to the man that had put me in the wheelchair.

"I see you've brought your main man here to gloat, April. You bail him out. The nurse told me they'd arrested his ass," I said. She started to get up as if to come to me.

"Finn, no-no. You've got it all wrong. We came to-well-to see that you were going to be okay?" she said. "Really."

"Well, now you've seen. Do I look like I'm okay! Is my own personal whore satisfied with seeing me in this chair? Tell me. I'd really like to know," I said.

"Finn, that's crazy! Of course I'm sorry you're hurting. Really, I am," she said.

"Finn, you've no call to refer to your wife as a whore," said Roger, daring to speak for the first time. "And as for you being in that chair. Your memory can't be so bad that you don't remember attacking me first. I didn't want that fight, Finn, You forced it."

"I forced it. Well, maybe, but you caused it. You fucking her behind my back-and-in front of my face, if it comes to that, caused it. You do realize that, right, Roger baby," I said. I tried to stand, fell backwards and a little to the side and landed on my ass on the floor. It was humiliating.

Roger was the first to my side trying to help me up, but as I half rose to my feet, I brushed him off and once again landed on my ass for my trouble. He leaned in to help me again. "Fuck off, Roger baby, I've had enough of your help already. Why don't you go help my wife out? I mean she's always in heat. She needs you a lot more than I ever will, or so she has on more than one occasion assured me."

"Finn, stop that kind of talk, right now," said April, finding her voice. By now the orderly was helping me up, and his practiced hands were able to successfully negotiate me back into the chair. He checked me out for any serious damage I may have done myself; and then, having asked me a few perfunctory questions wheeled me away and out of the caf; or, put another way, out of harm's way.

The only thing faster than me, at that moment, as I tried to escape my embarrassment, was April. She was all but actually running from the room. To what purpose she was running was to me a mystery.

******

I was out of the hospital the day after our meet up in the cafeteria. I felt like an idiot having tried to go at him again. But, in my defense I was so angry at seeing him there with my wife-my fucking wife!-that I had to do something. And the odd thing? I was now sitting across from my wife, in our old living room, waiting for her to say something. This after she, just two minutes before, shooed Roger out so we could talk. The man had actually had the brass cajones to tender me a small wave and a half smile as he left. I had no words, but my mouth was hanging open a yard, I was sure, as he exited.

He'd stayed the fucking night with her while I was laid up! And "fucking night" was a very accurate description of the situation I was sure. The woman had no shame. But, I had to hand it to her; she did have gall. And gall not merely related to Roger having stayed the night and screwing her; but also, the gall to dare to call me to ask me to sit down with her and talk-again. And, like the total jackass that I am, I was indeed sitting here waiting for her to make her case.

"How are you feeling? " she said, as her opening gambit. I didn't answer; I just stared and it wasn't a friendly stare.

"Okay-okay. Sorry," she said, "I understand. You're not feeling the best. I mean your injuries, and, well, and seeing him here just now. I didn't expect you till a little later. When your friend called to let me know you'd agreed for him to be bringing you here, he'd led me to believe that it would be later in the day. So, yes, I understand.

"Can I ask you a question, Finn?" I nodded, still not having said a word.

"Do you really hate me?" I sighed.

"For the life of me, no, I don't hate you April. I could never hate you. But, I do hate what you've done to me, and continue to do to me," I said. She nodded.

"Second question? Do you hate Roger? I mean for doing what he's been doing with me?" she said. This one I had to think about. I didn't answer her right away. She took my silence to mean that I did hate the man.

"I unders…"

"No, April, you probably don't understand. But, to answer your question, in point of fact, no, I don't hate the man. The truth is I feel better about him than I do about you; I mean in terms of what he's been doing to me. At least he's single. In another universe, he and I could maybe have been friends. But…"

"Wait-wait-wait a minute. You don't hate him?" she said. "Then why the fighting and the name calling and all of it?"

"I didn't say he didn't make me angry. You both make me so angry," I said. "But, anger is not the same as hatred. I don't hate people, April. Sometimes, I hate what they do, but not the people, at least none that I have ever personally met."

"Well, thank you for that. I know it doesn't make everything better between us, but it does make it all kinda less bad-I guess is the way to say it," she said.

"Whatever," I said. "But, now I have a question for you. You knew this one was coming right?" She nodded.

"Yes," she said.

"What do you want from me? Are you going to stop seeing him? Was last night the final show with you and him? And, do you see me as some kind of wuss that is going to just put up with all of this stuff," I said. She smirked.

"That's four questions," she said, stating the obvious. "But all fair ones. Let me take them in reverse order if that's all right, Finn." I nodded.

"Okay," I said.

First off, I do not see you as a wuss or any other bad or lesser thing. My God, I don't. You are every inch a man, a good man, and you are my main man. Yes, yes, I know you don't want to hear that you're my main man; you want me to say that you are my only man. I get it. But, that said, I'd be lying if I said what you wanted to hear, and I've told you enough lies already and there will be no more of those. So, a wuss, no; my only man, no; my main man, yes.

I eyed her with the purest of anger emanating out of me, but I stayed shut up for the moment.

I can see what I've said upsets you, but please, grant me the chance to answer all of you questions before you go off on me. Okay Finn?"

"Okay," I said, but I said it through gritted teeth.

"Second, your questions two and three are actually one question. The short answer is that whether or not I keep seeing Roger or whether or not last night was my last night with him are kind of a matter of what happens here and now.

"I want to keep seeing him, Finn, and for the same reasons I've already laid on you in past conversations. But, if I can't get you to go along with a proposal I am going to make, I will give him up, and last night will have been my last night with him. Frankly, that's what I told him this morning. I mean that last night might have been our swan song. I won't kid you, Finn, while I will be trying my damnedest to be the one man woman you are demanding; it will be hard. I might not be able to; I might lapse back into my old ways. But, I will try, and I just might be able to, to be a one man woman that is. I'm shaking in my boots that I might fail you-and myself. So, please get this, and I have said this before too. You are more important to me than is Roger. If I am forced to choose; it'll be you every time. But, all of above said, here is my answer to your first question," she said.

Her words were having a calming effect on me. I could not have said why; or, maybe I could. I think her words were convincing me that she did love me, but that she was weak and unable help herself; at least such was so in the past.

I had gone pensive. She snapped her fingers to bring me back to the land of the conscious. "Finn?" I came out of my trance. She nodded her realization that I was back with her and listening.

"So, what do I want from you? Boy is that a loaded question. Finn, ideally what I want is for you to join us. To let me have Roger occasionally, say once or twice a month. For you to join us if you want, in any way you want, doing whatever you want. That's my ideal situation. It would be a major cut back for me and Roger. We'd be going from twice a week to a quarter of that; but it is something that I could actually do. And, I might add, that if anything, you agreeing, would make my love for you grow exponentially; I mean you allowing me that much latitude.

"Okay, I guess that answers your questions," she said. "Do you have any others?"

"At the moment, no," I said. "I have to think. I'm hurting, April. I'm hurting kinda bad. My injuries are not completely healed, and the Percosets they've given me will definitely be used up before this is all done and over with. And, then there is all of the things you've said about my lack of sexual prowess. I mean, why would you want me around when he's there to ring your chimes; I mean if I'm so nothing in bed? The only possible answer to that, April, is to keep me mollified, so I don't go off on him or you in the future." She started to interrupt, but I held up my hands to short shank her.

"April, I need to think. But, right now, I want to lie down. We'll talk again, and I'll give you my answer. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, yes, okay," she said. "I'll be here when you're ready. It doesn't matter if it's next week or five minutes from now. I'm here for you."

"Okay. See you later," I said. I headed back to my place at the Carlisle.

******

When one's got a choice to make the people from Tennessee know how to help. They distill a whole lot of sour mash and serve it on the rocks. The wisdom to be found at the bottom of each glass is truly amazing.

My choice? To go home and put thoughts of divorce on hold. In other words I dodged making a straight up decision to dump my wife's sorry ass, and see what might be made of a situation that up to this point I have been, and actually remain, intolerant of. She met me at the door.

"Hello Finn, I sure am glad you decided to give me-us-a chance," she said.

"Okay, well, I'm here. We'll see how it plays out," I said. We took our seats in my-our-old living room.

"Are we good?" she said, sitting across from me on the couch; I'd chosen my old rocking chair.

"Don't know. I guess what I want to do is go back to the deal we had before: you trying to sell me on your idea of a marriage," I said.

"Okay, yes, the offer's still good for sure, Finn. And, I promise you that you will not be sorry, no matter what you finally decide," she said.

"Good. So where is my rival?" I said. She sighed.

"Finn, Roger is not your rival, not in any respect, not even in the bedroom. You will always have first dibs on this ass of mine no matter what. And, if at the end of the week you want to kick him out; well then, he's history. But-I hope you won't, kick him out I mean.

"Anyway, to answer your question, I asked him to motel it tonight. I wanted you and I to be able to-well-rekindle some of what we had," she said.

I smirked. "You sure you won't be bored with boring old me?" I said.

"If anything is true in all of this, Finn, it'll be that I am going to be a nervous as a tick with you tonight," she said. "Bored? "Hell no!"

I didn't say, but I think were both thinking it: I wasn't even able to get it up for her the last time we almost did it. Would that be happening again? I honestly wasn't sure. I didn't think it would, but I just couldn't bring myself to feel confident.

"April, well-I just hope I don't disappoint you. I've decided to give this thing of yours, this idea, the old college try; but…"

"You'll be fine, Finn. I can feel it. A woman can tell," she said. I nodded.

******

She came out of the bathroom wearing the exact same teddy she'd worn the time of our abortive first try at this. She was dazzling as far as I was concerned.

This time she wasted no time, but came directly to the bed and rolled herself on top of me. She smiled down at me. "Glad you decided not to wear anything this time, not even your skivvies," she said. "And if that hard thing pressing into my belly is what I think it is; well, I don't think we're going to be having any significant difficulty," she said.

We kissed for some minutes, making out like a couple of high schoolers. She slid down my body and played with my dick while I jerked and spasmed at the ticklish sensation she was producing. Then, she mounted me and rode me for all she was worth. I literally blasted the insides of her vagina as I came and came and came.

She swung around and sat on my face. "Eat me out my husband. Eat every little swimmer you sent into me," she said. I didn't have to be told twice; I licked and sucked at her for some little time; she jerked and wiggled and ground her butt onto my face desperately, I thought, trying to cum. She stiffened; I was sure she had. Well, if I couldn't get her off with my nothing dick at least I could with my mouth.

We lay beside each other each lost in our own thoughts.

"I came," she said. "You got me off." I didn't respond. I didn't want to think she was lying to me, but how could I be sure. And, not being sure, I didn't want to sound like the desperate man-thing that I in fact was. I stifled an impulse to ask her how I compared with Roger.

"I'm glad," I said, finally. We slept. When I awoke some hours later, I could smell the coffee even upstairs where we were. I looked to my right and she was sleeping soundly. Roger was home, and he was making the coffee; it had to be him.

I pulled on one of my old robes, I had three, and went down stairs. He was sipping what was probably his first cup. I got me one.

"Well, how was it?" he said. "Are we still in the ballgame?" I didn't answer him right away. I stopped stirring my coffee and took a sip.

"Maybe," I said. "Too early to tell."

"Did you get her off?" I gave him a very hard look. He got the message.

"I didn't ask to see if you were successful; I asked to see if 'you' were satisfied with your performance. Frankly, at this stage that is actually more important than what she thinks," he said. I looked him askance.

"Huh?" I said, not getting what he was talking about.

"I know your ego was pretty well shattered by things. You need to get some of that back and that right soon. I know it, and I'm sure you know it," he said. I snickered.

"Maybe," I said. "Anyway, she said I got her off, but she could have been faking it for her own reasons whatever they are."

"Dick or mouth?" he said. He was getting mighty personal, but this whole week looked to be about being personal.

"Mouth. Oh, I did fuck her twice. She said I did fantastic, but we both knew that that wasn't so. At any rate, I am sure she never even got close to making it while I was screwing her. But, like I said, she did make it once when I ate her." He nodded his understanding.

"She told me she was going to be completely honest with you. But, maybe not about how you perform with your dick. I'm pretty sure you did get her off with your mouth though, like you say. Can I ask, was it before or after you fucked her?

"After," I said. He smiled.

"Okay, you did get her off then. Whenever she has cum in her and her man eats her out; she goes freakin' nuts. Oh, you got her off all right if you ate your cum out of her.

I stared at him. "Whenever her man…?" he knew what I meant.

"We've done some threesomes. Been a while, because, well, because of you; but we've done 'em," he said. I nodded. I didn't know why, but the news that she'd had threesomes with Roger didn't surprise me an iota.

We kinda fell into a silent mode. I was thinking that he'd likely be part of the action that night, and I didn't know, didn't have a clue, as to how I was going to handle it if he was. What he was thinking, didn't matter as far as I was concerned, but it had to be the same thing that I was, or so I rationalized.

April interrupted our daydreams. "Hi guys," she said. She was in an all too buoyant mood. Me, I was scared or worried or hopeful or all of the above; I couldn't have said. But, the way I saw it, she shouldn't have been acting like it was another fun day at the park.

"Hi," I said, without a great deal of enthusiasm.

"Mornin', girl," said Roger.

"You guys have a chance to talk?" she said.

"A little," I said.

"Yeah, a little," echoed Roger.

"Well, good-good," she said. "It would be a wonderful if you two could just get along for the next several days." She glanced hopefully at each of the two of us in turn. "Last night was good for us, right Finn?" she said.

"Well, it was for me. I mean I got off pretty good. Hope you did too," I said. "I mean you said you did, the one time for sure."

"Do I detect a 'but' in there somewhere?" she said.

"No, no buts. It's just that it's hard to believe that I could have improved all that much in the last couple of years, especially in view of the fact that I haven't had a whole lot of practice," I said. She feigned a frustrated smile.

"Finn, you were fine. You got me off three times. I think it was my attitude before. I actually kinda turned myself off, if you know what I mean. But last night, well, I was into it; that, and your own skills made me able to cum. I blame myself for before," she said.

"Really," I said. I knew she was lying of course. I knew that at most it was the one time, and that with my mouth not my dick."

"Yes, really; I'm not kidding you," she said.

"Okay, whatever. Anyway, as I said, it was good for me," I said.

"So, what about tonight," said Roger, interrupting our unstated disagreement. April looked the least bit nervous.

"Well, tonight-all three of us?" she said. It was a question more than a recommendation or soft peddled mandate. The question was aimed at me. I shrugged.

"Okay, then," she said, "tonight it is. Is anyone else nervous besides me?"

Roger snickered. "Yeah, well, I am; hell, I think we all are," he said, looking at me.

"Yeah, a little, I guess," I said. April came to me from around the other side of the table. She touched my cheek; it was a light touch, almost feather light.

"Tonight you are going to find out just how good it can be for us, my husband," she said. I saw Roger, out of the corner of my eye, flinch when she referred to me as her husband. For the first time, I began to believe that maybe I really might be the stud of choice; I mean if push came to shove. Oh, I had no illusions of ever being numero-uno in the bedroom, but overall? Yeah, I was thinkin' that maybe I was the big cheese after all, indeed after all!

******

She was gorgeous and she was standing there looking from one to the other of us, myself and Roger. The two of us were naked as the day we were born; we'd followed her instructions in that regard. And, yes, he was twice my size, a fact that bothered me, but at least he hadn't made anything of it. I should say that the fact was that he hadn't even smiled when he'd seen my four-incher. That truth got him a degree of appreciation from me. Had he been-how shall I say-arrogant about it; I would likely have been out of there in short order. As it was, my ego was still reeling from all that April had done and said to and about me. No, another hit, one by him, would have put an end to everything, about that there was precious little doubt.

Did I say she was gorgeous; well, she was. Her dark hair was curled and cascaded to just below her shoulders; her makeup was perfect; her heels were five-inchers no question. She was clearly wearing no bra, but the black, knee length slip she wore hid her charms effectively from the two males who coveted them. Oh, and she smelled like heaven. Resist her? Not possible, not and still claim to be a sentient male on planet Earth.

She walked over to us and chucked each of us under the chin. She was loving this. I watched her as she-what-languidly lay down on the bed. She crooked a finger at me. I could feel my face flush with embarrassment. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. Oh well.

"You get me first, my husband. Roger would stretch me too much, and I want you to have a good time; that's the most important thing tonight for me, and for Roger too. Right Roger?" she said. He had a look on him that looked suspiciously like jealousy; but, his words were the right ones; the ones that April had undoubtedly drilled him on.

"Absolutely," he said. "No, more you being voluntarily out in the cold, Finn; we want you to be with us, and that all of the time."

He actually sounded convincing. Well, sort of. But, it kind of bothered me that he said I would be joining the two of them, not him me and April. But, I let it slide. It was almost like my subconscious mind was looking for a way to ruin the night. But, it wouldn't. I was seeing to that. I was going to give this week its due, and hope for the best. Did I believe that a good outcome was possible? I don't think I did. At best it was a huge assed maybe.

I knelt beside her and then lay on top of her. Sliding down, I began licking her labia. She adjusted her position and when she did I looked up slightly and saw her winking at her lover. For some reason that bothered me. It was like she wasn't into paying attention to me; she would endure me, try to make me happy, but the reality was that I was just a cheapass opening act for the main event: big cocked Roger.

I slid up her and tried to push my cock into her. She looked at me with concern on her features.

"Finn? We okay?" she said.

"Not sure," I said. "Could you help me a little? I'm not hard enough yet." Suddenly she looked terrified.

"You bet," she said, smiling the phoniest smile I have ever seen. She grabbed hold of my cock and started lightly stroking it; that had always gotten me steel hard in days gone by. It was working to a certain extent: she helped feed my cock inside of her and I began to push and pull. I got a rhythm going and lasted for maybe three or four minutes before I made a small deposit inside of her. I shrank out of her almost instantly.

I rolled off of her, and lay on the bed more than a little disappointed in my performance. I hadn't even gotten close to getting her off with my mouth and certainly not with my worthless dick. I was ashamed of myself and on the verge of wimping out and crying like a baby, my humiliation was that total. But I didn't; I held it together-for the moment.

I lay there beside her, as she had instructed me to do, and watched as my better took care of business. He ate her out, yes with my cum, what there was of it, still inside of her topping her hair pie. I mostly watched him, but I stole a glance or two at her during the exercise. She was torn. I could see it, feel it. Torn between letting herself go and enjoying what he was doing to her, and wanting to hold me and reassure me like the little boy I was acting like. I swallowed hard many times in the next half hour. That's how long super-duper dick took to do her. She came at least three times; I could see it when it happened. Never, had I been able to get a reaction like that from her. Humiliated was an understatement.

I figured it was like she said: whatever my good points were, and no matter what they were; I was damn near worthless in bed. Fuck! I wasn't even average, not even below average; I was nothing! And, now I knew it.

Shit! The sonovabitch was still semi-hard; he just came and he was still able to do it. She played with his balls for a few moments, and then sucked on him for a moment or two more, and he was good to go. He flipped her over on her belly, pulled her ass up high in the air, and entered her from behind.

Spittle dribbled from her mouth onto the bed as he drilled her and she mooed and ahhed in ecstasy. He was the bull, she the cow, and I was humiliated observer.

******

The morning brought me zero comfort. We'd all slept in the same bed. Not much talking after the last go: a feeble attempt by me to get her off with my mouth; and yes, I ate his cum just as he had eaten mine. But, well, I ate a lot more of his; so I guess I was ahead, I thought bitterly. Too, I had to think that I had ruined the night for them, but in my defense I just couldn't help it. It was what it was.

They were down making coffee while I showered. I needed to be a lone for a little bit. I was terrified. A whole week of this? Jesus, I couldn't do it. Not if I was going to be unable to do any better than I had the night just gone. No way!

I dressed and headed down to get what I was sure would be a lot comforting platitudes, none of which did I want or need. Hell, I didn't know what I needed.

They were still in there robes. I was dressed in jeans and polo shirt.

"Morning, Finn," said April.

"Morning," I said.

Roger nodded and lifted his coffee cup to me in greeting. So far he'd not said anything. I figured that maybe April had given him instructions. But, who knew.

"Finn?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yes, I'm fine,' I said. "It's all a little new to me. Not my cup of tea. Maybe someday, but not yet. You know?" I was actually making sense. I wasn't much of a lover, but I began to think of myself as a helluva good logician.

"I blame myself," she said.

"No, no," I said. "It was me. I have a lot to learn if I even can. I know I'm not…"

"Finn, Roger has asked me to ask you if he could talk to you a little bit. Would that be all right, you know, alone," she said, interrupting me. I shrugged.

"Yeah sure, no problem," I said.

"Okay," she said. She smiled at me, at him, and then left us to our devices. I saw her head upstairs; I guessed she was going to wash the stink off of her."

I was sitting across from him. "Kinda disappointing for you last night wasn't it?" he said.

"A little."

"You don't want to continue, do you?" he said. I looked him askance. I sighed.

"Not really," I said. "I mean-hell, I don't know what I mean,"

"Finn, it's decision time. You love her. I love her. You're good at making money. I'm good, well, at what I'm good at. She's gonna have to choose," he said.

"Choose?" I said.

"Between us. This is the deal. She knows I'm bringing this up, but not what I'm going to say about it, not exactly," he said.

"And?" I said.

"Well, like I said this is the deal. If she chooses, it's going to be you, Finn. You can do more for her than I can. I make thirty-eight-K annual. You make, she told me, over a hundred-Gs. Goin' on three times what I make. She's gonna choose you. And, apart from the money; you're a good guy. I like you myself. But, Finn…"

"What, Roger. What are you trying to say?" I said.

"You need to walk away from her."

"What the fuck?"

"You will never be able to satisfy her, Finn. Buy her stuff, yeah; but satisfy her? Not happening. And you'll know it. Every time you bed her you'll try, and you'll fail. After a while you'll stop trying and sex between you will dwindle down to once in a while, maybe once a month of uninspired coupling.

"And, you'll know it's you. And, she'll know you know it's you. She'll give you lots of sympathy and encouragement, but mostly sympathy. And then she'll cheat on you, Finn. And, someone like me will make you his cuckold, as I have made you mine. And, he likely won't be as nice as me," he said, he smiled as he said this last. For the life of me, I smiled too.

"Anyway, that's my two cents," he said. "It's up to you now, Finn. Wished it could've worked out for us all. But, I guess it just wasn't in the cards,"

I just sat there and stared at him. I'd heard him. I'd gotten angry. I'd gotten sad. And, finally, I'd gotten my head out of my ass. He was right-oh so very right!

He got up and headed for the downstairs head. Well, he had a lot of stink on him too. Me, I was fresh as a daisy.

April came down the stairs and looked around for him.

"He's in the downstairs bathroom," I said. "April, you and I have to talk."

"Okay, Finn," she said. I sat there stirring my coffee.

"April, I love you. But, I will never-never-be able to satisfy you. I'm going to set you free. I'm going to give you the house, and everything in it but my personal stuff.," I said. She sat there and stared at me.

"What the hell!" she said.

"Calm down. We've got a hundred and thirty grand in the savings. You get all of that too. I'm just taking my personals and my car. Marry Roger. With all I'm giving you; you two will do fine-economically-as well as in bed.

"Like I said, I love you, and I always will, but I don't want to see you settling for a man who's half what you deserve-literally," I said, smiling at my unintended pun. And, I don't want to spend the rest of my life frustrated as I try to measure up to that which I never can measure up to. I can't do it," I said. She was clearly stunned.

"Finnley, I…"

"I'd appreciate it if you and Roger would go out to breakfast. I need an hour or two to get my stuff together and leave.

"April, if you ever need me for anything-well-you know where to find me," I said. I got up and went out to the patio. I waited till I heard the garage door open and close. They'd gone out.

I got my stuff together in a total of forty-five minutes. I was gone before they got back. I was glad for that.

******

Give "time" enough "time" and "time will make things happen-trust me.

The divorce had been an easy one. I gave her the house and most of the savings; that satisfied her on an economic level-I'd kept ten grand as startup money for a new place; I didn't need much, and I had my retirement plan which was never even mentioned in the divorce, nor was alimony. Some would say I was on easy street. I was a constant visitor to LaRue's. And, I was lonely. Helluva thing. I am sitting at my usual place right now celebrating the final divorce decree which had come down just two days past. Well, okay, crying in my beer.

It's the holiday season now. And, I had gone to the company Christmas party, but there I'd turned down two generous-from my coworkers-invitations to spend Christmas dinner with them. I just wasn't ready for a lot of holiday hurrahing. And, truth known, I was feeling a little melancholy. Things had gotten better as time passed, but I was still feeling a bit unsure about getting back into the dating scene or even hanging out with the boys. As for the girls; well, I already had a pretty good idea of what my reception from them would be. And, listening to a bunch of guys make jokes about sex and women and their undoubted superior bedroom skills didn't appeal to me either.

I hadn't heard from either of them since I left. That's almost seven months gone, now; but then, I hadn't done anything to contact them either. But, it couldn't last. I did hear from them, well, from her.

As I mentioned, I was ensconced on my usual seat at LaRue's sipping the last of my third manhattan when she slid onto the stool beside me.

"How yuh doin' stud," said April. I gave her a look. And, I had reason to. She was pregnant.

I didn't miss a beat. "Stud?" I said. "You must be looking for somebody else. I have it on really good authority that I'm not only not a stud, but really pretty much worthless in the sack. So, like I said you might want to be continuing your search." I turned back to my drink.

"Finn. I'm sorry, I meant it, my comment, to just be a pleasantry, nothing more," she said.

I guess I believed her. "You and Roger are prospering," I said, indicating her belly. She smiled. "Oh, and I'm okay."

"Really," she said.

"Yes, really. My bartender loves me," I said. I looked down the bar and saw that Harry was watching me. "You love me, right Harry?"

"Sure bet cowboy," he said. He went back to washing glasses.

"See, I am well loved," I said.

"Yes, clearly," she said. "You got plans for Christmas Day?" Red flags! She was going to ask me to come over. That was the absolutely last thing in the world I wanted to do. Seeing them together would not be good.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "A couple of people asked me to come by. So yeah."

"Oh. Okay, I just thought that if you weren't busy…"

"Yeah, well thanks," I said. "You guys are having a get together then?" I said. "Family and all of that?"

"Actually, Finn, Roger and I broke up. Haven't been together since you left, or actually a couple of days after that," she said. That surprised me.

"Somebody else take his place?" I said, again indicating her belly. Okay, I was fishing, and I didn't even know why I was fishing.

"No, no, I'm alone now. Aunt Melba and aunt Dora are coming over for Christmas, but no men," she said.

"You're pregnant. I assume it's Roger's kid, but you and he broke up?" I said.

"No, it's not his," she said. I was beginning to get a really really hinky feeling right then.

"Then?" I said.

"Yours," she said. "Oh, and It's going to be a girl."

"Mine? You say it's mine!"

"No doubt about it," she said. Her smile carried only a tad less buoyancy.

"And, you want me to come over-on Christmas Day?" I said. And, yes I know it was a stupid question. I was still processing the new info.

"How about 3:00PM if that's convenient," she said. I nodded. I didn't trust my voice.

"April, this is for real?" I said.

"Oh yeah, stud; it's for real."

"April, the stud remarks…"

She looked down. "Okay, you're right. But, it wasn't meant bad," she said.

"Okay, okay, just lay off. It's fine. Things are fine," I said. "You want a coke or something?" Well, hell, she was pregnant.

"No, I have an appointment. I have to be going," she said. I looked her askance, but I didn't prod her. I wanted her gone, so I could think. There was not a scintilla of doubt that she could prove it was mine. So what did I want to do now. Go back with her? Just pay up for the kid and let it go at that? Something else? What else?"

******

I was still at the Carlisle. Debra was still taking care of me on the side though sex per se had been more or less rare. I think she was holding out for more commitment from me before she gave up very much of her well-defended mead of honor. And, well, I wasn't sure I wanted to go that route just yet. And, it wasn't her; it was my own insecurities that was holding me back. I mean if I wasn't enough for April, how was I going to satisfy a girl ten years my junior. The answer to my mind was obvious: I wasn't.

"Bullshit, Finnley. I know you care for me, and I care for you. You need to get over whatever the hell it is that's keeping you from committing to me," said Debra.

"Deb, I'm ten years older than you. Your friends are damn near teenagers. Hell, I'm thirty-four and damn near an adult for chryssakes."

"Oh my god, no! Not an adult!" she said, laughing out loud. "Finn, I'm twenty-three, an almost-virgin, and pretty talented in lots of ways. And, I have one thing else that I know I can lay claim to."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I have you by the short hairs. I know you can barely control yourself around me," she said. "So, get down on your knees and propose." I looked at her like she was a crazy woman.

"You did hear me when I said I will be seeing my ex on Christmas day, and that she says I'm the father of her yet to be born little girl. You did hear that part, right?" I said.

"Yes, and so. You pay child support, have the new little honey in your life-our lives-and we get on with building our life together. Oh, and I'm going with you to her house on Christmas Day," she said.

"Oh, yeah, I can see it now, the other woman comes with her ex to ruin her Christmas. That'll go over large," I said. She began pacing.

"What about her old boyfriend. That Roger guy you told me about," she said.

"What about him?" I said.

"We bring him along with us."

"What! She broke up with him. I told you that," I said.

"Yes, well, it's time she forgave him for what he did and get back with him; that way she won't be left out in the cold with no one to wipe away her tears," she said. Ah the very young: to them nothing was impossible. But, something began percolating around in my head.

Would he come if we brought him? I didn't know why they'd broken up. Maybe it was something real bad. Maybe he cheated on her. Maybe it was about her pregnancy. Well, I was nothing if not resourceful. "Okay," I said. "It's a long shot, probably, but it's worth a shot."

*****

He stared at me like a vision from his worst and long forgotten nightmare. "What the fuck?" he said.

"Yeah, and I remember you saying something like that to me," I said. He took on a kind of stunned or something look.

"Yeah, I guess," said Roger.

"Can I come in?" I said. He hesitated, but stood aside to let me pass. An hour later, found me standing once again at his door; this time on the inside ready to leave.

"Thanks for the brews," I said. "So you'll come with us then."

"I guess. I never would have left her, but I was sure I'd lost the war once I knew she was preggers and I wasn't the daddy. Like I said, I was just cutting my losses." He said.

"Well, maybe you can salvage your feelings for the woman now," I said. "My new woman will definitely be rooting for you. Still, all of what we've said this past little while may just end up being the final period on the sentence, if you get my drift. Or, just maybe the beginning of something good. By 3:00PM on Christmas day we should know for sure one way or the other."

"Yeah, well, maybe so," he said. We spoke for a few more minutes, but the die had been cast. Barring any last minute snafu we were in business, at least to the extent possible.

******

The three of us stood in front of the door to the house that April and I had shared for so long, and for that matter that Roger had been based at for a goodly length of time as well. I knocked.

"Coming," said a voice from probably the kitchen within. The door opened only a nano second faster and farther than did the mouth of April Matson.

"Finnley? What is this. Who is this woman? And Roger? What are you doing here? You dumped me months ago," she said.

"Who is it, dear?" came the voice of another woman from somewhere back in the house. "Is it Finnley?"

"Yes, among others," yelled April. She looked back at the three of us; her eyes were narrowed and focused mainly not on me, not on Debra, but on Roger-I thought that telling.

"Well, you might as well all come in," said April to the lot of us.

Roger had his marching orders, and surprisingly, he accepted them; and, more surprisingly, he'd accepted them from me!

Pleasantries and greetings over with, Roger pulled April aside.

"April, could we go into the kitchen together. I have some things I'd like you to help me with," said Roger.

Aunts Melba and Dora by this time had come out of the kitchen and were smiling to beat the band. They of course knew about me and Roger-well they'd gotten a sanitized version relating to me and Roger-which as it turned out served the moment well.

The initial conversation between Debra and myself and April's aunts was animated. Then, a sudden questioning silence engulfed us. I smiled.

"It's this way, aunt Dora, April's true love now is Roger. Debra and I-well-Debra and I are an item," I said. "But, we're all still friends and all of that," I said.

Aunt Dora gave the youngish girl next to me the once over. "Hmm," she said. Which really mean that she thought that I was robbing the cradle. Well, hell, I was only half convinced that I wasn't myself.

I looked in the direction of the kitchen. Other eyes followed mine. "Yes, Finnley, we're all wondering the same thing; well, I'm guessing," said Melba. Dora nodded her agreement.

******

"You know of course that the others," she nodded toward the front room, "are wondering what the heck we are doing," said April.

"Yes, I expect that so," said Roger. "But, okay, am I back in your good graces?" she nodded.

"Yes, I guess so; and, if what you say is so, it is just something else that I have Finnley to thank for, something else that I owe that man," she said.

"Well, in this case, I guess we both owe the man, as you say," said Roger. "Whaddya say we join the crowd?"

"Yes, I think we should," said April.

"Here they are," said aunt Melba.

April cut right to the chase. "You are a piece of work aren't you, Finn," she said. I felt my mood darken-well-until she finished her spiel. "And, I thank God for it and for you. In order not to belabor the issue on this the most important holiday of the year, let me say the following. Your plan, if that's how to term it, worked. Roger and I are together again. Similarly, you and Your new woman are always welcome here, and especially so today; I mean if I even had to say it." I nodded.

"Well, thank you for that, April. And, I am happy for you and your new-well new old-man." Aunts Melba and Dora were looking back and forth between us like we were putting on a soap opera of some kind. Well, and I guess we were in a sense. Roger started laughing and Debra was doing her best to not laugh and losing in her attempt.

April stepped forward and took Debra by the hand and led her kitchenward. "Come on Deb, me and the ladies need a little help in the kitchen. You guys get a beer or something," said April. "We'll call you when dinner's ready." With that, the women all headed for the gossip chamber.

Roger and I were left standing there all but holding our dicks. "Well, if she hasn't changed things that much there should be a frig on service porch for drinks and such," I said.

"It's still there," said Roger. "Let's invade it and take our booty out on the patio."

"I second that plan," I said.

******

I'd felt that I had to step outside for a few. They'd known each other for less than three hours and were already acting like best buds: Deb and April that is. Roger had gone to the store; he'd asked me to go along, but I'd declined. Melba and Dora were cleaning up with the help of the girls; hence, my little single-o tour of the pool area. Well, I wasn't exactly alone either; I did have my pal with me-Jack Daniels.

"Whatcha thinkin' about cowboy," said a voice from behind me? I turned.

"Nothin' much, April. Nothin' much. Just coolin' it for a bit," I said.

"I guess everything worked out. For the best? Well, I guess we'll have to see about that down the line," she said.

"Yeah, maybe," I said. "Where's my girlfriend?"

"She's inside. I asked her if I could have a word with you. She said okay," I nodded.

I walked the few steps it took to get me to a seat at the little patio table and waited for her to say what she wanted to say.

"I love you, Finn, always will. But, that said… " she seemed to run out of words. But, she regrouped.

"I guess the sex thing was bigger than I thought it was. For the life of me, I can't justify not begging you to take me back. Actually, that was exactly what I was planning to do tonight, but you, in your infinite wisdom, decided to short shank me. You brought me a present: the only man who ever had a prayer of coming between us. The irony? He was doing his damnedest to not do that. He left me months ago because he knew, was sure that all I really wanted was you back. Hell, it was all I wanted.

"But, this afternoon, when I saw the three of you at the door; well, I wanted him. I wanted you too, but I wanted him right now! At first I thought that the chickee you brought along, Debra, was his new girlfriend. But, then I realized that if that were true he wouldn't be here. No, it had to be your new girlfriend. And she's a princess by the way. I like her," said April.

"Yeah, she is that," I said.

"Yes, well, I wish you both all the best. Anyway, Roger and I have talked. We have some fence mending to do. I said somethings; he said some things, well you can imagine. But that was months ago, and I have cooled down a lot, and so has he. I think we'll be okay."

"I hope you will, April, and Roger too. Debra and I will be getting married pretty soon. She wants me for me. And, if she doesn't kill me in the sack, we're going to be fine too.

"Okay," said April. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say."

"And it was well said, April. We'll be getting along all of us. The day will dawn and we will all be doing okay. I'm sure of it," I said.

-----------------------------

   Series:Garfield and Jennifer Kline
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She's a secret Prostie, and her best friend outs her.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/69610/garfield-and-jennifer-kline
Published:2011-11-01
We met in a bar. Where else? The Castellano serves real Spanish cuisine and very good whiskey. That Jennifer Randolph was cruising the boulevard and looking for something or someone was obvious: her glance was everywhere. I was dateless, into my second round, and I decided to gamble and offer my services.

"Miss, would I be out of line to offer to buy you a drink?" I said. She looked me up and down. And, apparently, decided that I wasn't a total loser.

She took another look around, turned back to me, and smiled. "All right," she said, offering me her hand to shake. "I'm Jennifer Randolph. My date is apparently a no show."

"Garfield Kline," I said, as I pumped her hand. "And, I'm glad your date didn't show up." She smirked.

"Travis," I said, signaling my favorite barkeep. Travis was only twenty-four, but he had a head on his shoulders and he was good at what he did. "Whatever the lady is having." Travis gave me a look I couldn't read, walked a few feet down the bar, pulled out a bottle of wine and poured a drink for my new girlfriend; for that is exactly how I was seeing her: talk about love at first sight. Anyway, a man can dream.

"We know each other," she said, nodding toward Travis and thereby explaining why Travis had not asked what the lady was having; he clearly already knew. I nodded my understanding, and our love affair was launched.

And it was love; it was for me at any rate. Yeah, and likewise love damn near at first sight. She was sexy and tall and slim and redheaded and possessed of the cutest freckles; and, she smelled fantastic. I would have done practically anything for her just to be rewarded with a smile.

That first night we danced, and she molded herself to me. And me, being a bit shorter than she was, didn't bother me in the least. I figured she was maybe five-nine to my five-seven, but I liked having my face close to her titties while we danced. And my face was close to her titties because she was wearing what I estimated were four-inch heels. She smiled down at me, and I thought I detected a smirk as we toured the dance floor. Song done, we headed back to a table away from the bandstand. I wanted to be able to talk to her.

I seated us next to each other. I noticed a couple of guys kinda watching us, but I paid them no mind; I was otherwise occupied. She giggled. I smiled.

"And you're giggling why?" I said, trying to decide if she were laughing at me, or just enjoying the moment. Her expression seemed to say that she thought I was a doofus; but, if that is what she thought, she was wrong. I was feeling goofy all right, but I was no dumbo.

"You're not bothered by the fact that I'm so much taller than you are, are you?" she said. "I mean most short guys won't ask me to dance like you did. You intrigue me."

"Bothered? Not a t all. You're so pretty your height doesn't even enter into it as far as I'm concerned. I had to try and get you to dance with me. If you'd turned me down; well, I've been turned down before and survived it. Plus, I really do know how to dance. So again, no," I said. "Oh, and short? I was turned down when I applied to be a jockey; they said I was too tall. Can't seem please anybody." She laughed.

"And a sense of humor. Hmm, Yes, you are quite a dancer; and, I do like a man who is confident in his manhood. And therefore, before you ask, of course I will go out with you next Saturday. What time?" she said. Now, I laughed.

"You can read minds can you?" I said.

"Of course! I'm a woman. I know everything a man is thinking even before he thinks it," she said.

"Well, you were wrong this time," I said. Her face showed surprise-no-disappointment.

"Oh, okay-I'm-I'm sorry-I just… "she started.

"No, I was thinking Friday night, not Saturday. But, Saturday's okay. Sevenish good for you?" I said. She smiled brightly.

"Sure. Seven is fine. Good," she said. I think I'd momentarily shaken her confidence-point for me.

I picked her up at 6:50. She seemed mildly surprised by my eagerness, and I was eager.

Our first date began with dinner at The Scorcher and then dancing at the Hacienda. We finished with a night of wild ass sex. And sexually, we'd done it all, which included me fucking her three times and draining myself dry. We lay on her apartment's front room carpet staring up at the ceiling.

"Was it good for you?" she said.

"Is that a serious question?" I said, still not quite breathing steadily.

"Me too," she said. "You're pretty good for a little guy. You can call me again. I mean if you want." I wasn't quite sure about her little guy comment. Was she referring to my five-inch cock or my five-seven height? I didn't ask.

"Oh, I do want," I said. "I most certainly do want." She turned her head to face me. I thought I detected a sense of something in her look.

"I hope I don't disappoint you, mister Kline. You're different, a lot different than a lot of the men I've known. And, never doubt it, mister Kline; I've known a lot of men. That said, I do think you're interesting, and I would like to get to know you better-perhaps a lot better."

"I can assure you, Miss Randolph, that mister Kline wants to get to know you better too. Oh yes, much better," I said. She smiled: it was the same enigmatic smile she'd tendered me moments before. The woman was going to be something of a mystery to plumb of that I was certain.

Miss Randolph and mister Kline did date again, and six months into the relationship found themselves in Amarillo, Texas, in front of s justice of the peace and two strangers-witnesses.

******

In the months before Jennifer and I married, we got to know each other well. Well, that is, that's what I thought; it would be many years before I learned just how erroneous my thinking had been. But, things did go mostly well for us in those early years.

Jennifer had been nervous about telling me about her past. I guessed, and rightly as it later turned out, that it had something to do with the men she'd known and had alluded to on our very first date. At any rate, when she started in with her true confessions, I'd interrupted her.

"Jennifer, do you love me?" I said.

"Yes, of course, but…"

"Then, the men you've known before we met mean nothing to me. And, yes, I know how complicated some of those kinds of things can be. But, unless there is some physical danger to us attached to your history, you know, that I should be made aware of; well then, let sleeping dogs lie. What I don't know won't hurt me. And, we are starting new lives together," I said, "and that's all I care about. I mean our future. Okay?"

She sighed and shrugged. "Okay," she said. "And no there is no danger to us." I smiled.

"Good!" I said. "Now, let's get on with the business of building happy lives."

"You betcha! dear man," she said.

And we did get on with the business of life. We were both thirty years old. I worked for Rosten Investments. We sold real properties, mostly commercial, and business for us was booming. Jenn, worked at Rosa's Beauty Station. She and her cohorts ensured that senior, and mostly rich, ladies looked their best, and that for truly big dollars. Jenn often annually out-earned me, And, I was in the low six figures most years. It always surprised me how much some people were willing to lay out for the sake of vanity. But, was I complaining? Not on your life!

******

The next nine years were fantastic as far as I was concerned. And, I was sure that they were for her too. It was one of those unions where the couple turned out to be actual soulmates; or, so I thought.

Jennifer was a sex goddess. There wasn't anything I could come up with that she wasn't willing to try. Indeed, some of the things that she came up with gave me pause. No matter how far out the fantasy; she was up for it.

I was thirty-nine years old and sitting in the Castellano with a near empty sixteen ounce Red Horse (San Miguel ale) in front of me. I'd come to love that particular Philippine staple. I'd just signaled Travis to deliver me a refill when an attractive, dark haired, woman, probably Latino, took the stool next to mine.

"Hello, Mr. Kline," she said. I looked her up and down.

"Do I know you?" I said.

"Alas, no," she said. "But, I know you, well, of you. I also know your wife. The name's Kimble, Diane Kimble." I nodded my understanding.

"What can I do for you Ms. Kimble?" I said. Her look was-what-purposeful. I had the feeling that she was no kind of friend, but I wasn't sure. She was pretty and engaging. Women like her would always get the benefit of the doubt, sure as hell from me.

"I have some information for you, Mr. Kline," she said.

"Information?" I said.

"Yes, sir. Mr. Kline, I'm a prostitute. A pretty good one too if I do say so," she said.

I started to laugh. Ms. Kimble, I'm sorry. But, I don't…"

"Do prostitutes? You do them all the time, Mr. Kline," she said. I looked at her and smiled indulgently. I shook my head in the negative.

"No, Ms. Kimble I don't. I…"

"Mr. Kline, your wife's a pro. A dyed in the wool, you better damn well believe it, first class play for pay whore," she said. She was smiling from ear to ear-or was it smirking.

My smile faded fast. "You're not funny, Ms. Kimble, not in the least," I said. She placed a manila envelope on the bar in front of me.

"Among other things my phone number is in there," she said. She slid off of the stool and was gone.

I'm not brain dead. It was clear, even without looking, that whatever was in the envelope was supposed to be proof that my wife-the woman that I had adored forever-was a prostitute. But, even with all of the confidence and attitude of the Kimble woman, I still didn't actually believe her. I ordered another drink; I needed it. And, I didn't open the envelope. No indeed, if there was even a smidgen of truth in what the woman had said to me, I was going to find out the right way. No storming into the house and demanding answers. No beating around the bush either, uttering meaningless nothings trying to gently lead my wife into telling her side of it, whatever that might be. No, I had a better idea. The envelope was sealed. I wouldn't break the seal. I downed my drink. Threw a twenty on the bar, and headed out.

I walked in the door dropped the envelope on the dinette table and went into the kitchen where Jennifer was preparing dinner. "What's for dinner, honey?" I said.

"Pot roast," she said. I was genuinely pleased and my smile must have told her so: she gave me a big hug.

Ten minutes later she was toting the dinner into the dinette and noticed the envelope. "What's that?" she said. I looked to where she was pointing and shrugged.

"Some woman, one I never met, gave it to me at Castellano's earlier. I think it's just so much bullshit, but I brought it home for you to look at if you want. I guess the woman-said her name was Diane, Diane something, oh yeah, Kimble-has something against you. Said this envelope would prove that you are not the woman I married, thought I knew. I didn't even bother to open the damn thing. I don't like back biters and liars. I almost threw it in the trash, but at the last minute, I decided that you might want to go after her if her libel is really bad. At any rate, I know the stuff she told me is shit, so I don't care about the envelope. You can toss it if you want," I said.

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't what I got.

She dropped down in the chair she'd been standing next to. "So this is how it ends," she said, mostly to herself. "Actually, I'm surprised that it hasn't happened before this."

"What's should have happened before this, love?" I said.

"You finding out that I play for pay. I'm a whore, Garfield. And before you ask, in case you might; I do love you and only you. And for the record I never risked your health or shorted you in the sex department; you have to give me that much. I have always treasured our times together.

"And again, before you ask the next question, I mean if you would want to; no, I do not intend to stop doing other men. I like fucking for money. It's exciting." She sighed.

"So, Diane decided to out me. That kinda surprises me. I suppose you'll be divorcing me now." I sat across from her stunned. This was surreal.

"Garfield, you're a good husband. The only man who gets me for free. The rest of them were just fill-ins, substitutes to fill an insatiable need I have, and of course there's the cash. I don't, and never did love, or have the slightest emotional attachment to, any of them, just you got any of that. Sorry, for the pain I know this must be causing you. I would've given a lot to have spared you that. Anyway, what's done is done," she said.

I continued to stare at her. "And the envelope?" I said.

"I don't know, pictures maybe. I don't know. I would suggest you don't look at whatever it is, but that'll be your choice. I'm not going to," she said.

In my whole life I had never felt so low. After talking to the Kimble woman, I should have realized that this might be the way it would've played out, but I didn't. I suppose I really didn't believe it. An affair maybe, that's what I kinda deep down expected, but not this.

"I'll be leaving tonight," I said. "I'm going to be having a hard time dealing with this. Seeing you there all smug and telling me that you intend to keep on-well-doing what you're doing; it's more than I can handle. Have a fucking good laugh at this poor cuckold of a husband you've been duping forever, Jennifer. Jesus! Was I stupid. Stupid-stupid-stupid!" I got up and walked out of the room.

I headed upstairs to pack. Thirty minutes later I was standing at the front door, and looking at a concerned soon-to-be-ex-wife. "Jennifer… " I'd run out of words. I turned and walked out; I didn't look back.

******

"Asshole!" she said.

"Don't get your well used twat all in a wad over me outing you, dear girl. You've been screwing over that man for the last seven years. I just couldn't take it anymore. And, it was affecting your performance on the job!" said Diane.

"You're still and asshole. You could have at least warned me, so I could've let him down easy. Now, he's gonna be all pissy and sad and teary-eyed, and I mean maybe for years because of you," said Jennifer.

"Jennifer, we've talked about this. You want to stay in the business, god knows why at your age; but you do, so I've set it up for you to do just that and to stop cheatin' on good 'ole Garfield at the same time."

"What you did was turn him against me. You've solved nothing. Garfield was never going to be onboard with what I-we-do. He's way too square," said Jennifer. Boring and square, but the best kind of man you'll ever be likely to find. And trust me, I've looked!"

"No, what I did was get the ball rolling. Yes, he may end up hating you. But, I'm betting he loves you enough to talk to you before he goes off the deep end. Yes, it's a gamble. And yes, it may take quite a while, maybe a really long while; but, it was always going to come down to that, to taking a risk.

"He's a man. A man who married way out of his league. He knows it, and he all but falls all over himself trying to please you every day you're together. He's going to come back hat in hand, hoping," said Diane.

"Hoping? Hoping for what," said Jennifer.

"Hoping that you'll be able to convince him that everything you've done and continue to do is no threat to him and indeed works to his advantage.

"Let me put it this way. You need to give him an excuse to come back to you and accept your lifestyle, your career choice," said Diane. "He's got to want to, and to that end, what you give him has to sound logical and be mighty persuasive. It won't be easy, because he'll be down on himself. He'll be thinking that you're a whore because he can't get the job done. He has to believe that what you're doing is good for the both of you and for the marriage."

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," said Jenn.

"Again, I know it's not going to be easy, and a lot of things have to fall just right for you, the two of you; but it is possible. I mean he is a man; which definitely means that in reality he's already behind on points," said Diane, and she laughed.

"You better be right, Diane, because if you're not, I'm going to kick your skanky ass from here to the moon!" said Jennifer.

"I am. But, you have to be patient. You have to let the man stew for a while, maybe a good long while. He'll come around. You're too good a piece for him to give up on," Jennifer nodded at her friend's words.

"Okay. Okay," said Jennifer.

******

I was looking up at the blinking Budweiser sign above the bar. It'd been six months since I left the house. I had not seen nor heard of Jennifer since that night. Nor as far as I knew had she made any effort to contact me. I was remembering back, as I had almost nightly since, that I hadn't even eaten the pot roast she'd prepared for me that final night. Pot roast, not the sex, not the betrayals, not the disgrace, not her wonderful career choice-nothing-just the pot roast: it's all I could think about. Helluva thing.

The tears had come. The anger. And most of all the bitterness. Bitterness because of the fact that my Jenn didn't care a whit what I wanted needed or cared about. That she'd made no attempt whatsoever to contact me proved that. It was all about her money and sex and men and-well-and her contempt for me. I had reason to be bitter, lots of reason. The tears flowed, and that almost nightly too, even now.

It isn't exactly true what they say: time isn't the healer of all things. There might be other healing agents out there, but time was definitely not one of them, not to my mind. Six months and not a word from my ex, who wasn't even my ex. Well, not as far as I knew: I'd never gotten any papers. And, I sure as heck hadn't filed myself. So, as far as I knew, we were still man and wife-or-maybe man and whore was a better definition. What I did know for sure was that six months into the-what-separation, I had not seen or heard from Jennifer Kline nee Randolph. But well, that was true until three minutes ago.

The Thirteen Fishermen had become my favorite watering hole after my breakup with Jennifer. I still visited the Castellano on a rare occasion, but I knew for a fact that so did Jennifer. Well, I didn't need the problems running into her would have caused, so I didn't go there as much as I once had. So here I was now, sitting at the far end of the bar at the Thirteen Fishermen. And, I was sitting there with no hope of escaping without being seen. Jennifer and her John-or so I supposed he was-were seated too near the door not to notice me if I were to try to leave.

I wondered at the wisdom of just staying put and trying to not notice or be noticed. But, my fear that I would see, that which I could not endure seeing, made my choice a no brainer: I'd leave.

Rising, I headed for the counter to pay the bill. I didn't look at them, but as fate was determined to have it; they saw me. I was maybe fifteen feet from them when I heard the first, "Oh, my god!" I ignored it. A half minute later the waitress arrived to run my credit card.

"That's him? That's your little dicked wimp of a husband," said the man with her. Getting my card back and signing the chit took a half dozen seconds. I turned to look at them then. Jenn was open-mouthed. The man was almost laughing; then, he did laugh. I lost it.

"Fuck you, asshole," I said, as I flipped him the bird. "You too, slut."

"What did you say, shrimp?" said the man. I repeated my words. He got up so fast that I hardly had time to brace myself. He was on me in seconds. He had me cold. That partly because, like the wimp she evidently thought I was, I'd tried to turn for the door. He grabbed me by the hair, spun me around, and the next thing I knew I was surrounded by three very pretty girls-all dressed in white, hospital white.

"Mister Kline, you have a visitor?" said one of the nurses. I felt my eyes flutter open.

"How long have I… " I started.

"Forty-eight hours," she said. Then she smiled at me and left. My vision was still a little blurry, but there was no doubt that the woman tentatively approaching my bed was Jennifer Kline nee Randolph.

"My god, Garfield, I am so sorry. For the record, I called the police even before the bartender did and preferred charges against the asshole," she said. "He's in county lockup as we speak. God, how sorry I am. All I seem to be able to do is hurt you. Jesus!"

"Whaddya want, Jennifer? Why are you here? I don't pay for sex, so you can forget any liaison between you and me," I said. She frowned.

"I guess I deserved that. But, Garfield, you never paid for it before, so why would you even imagine such a ridiculous thing. You're my husband, even if you don't want to be. So all of my love and my body are yours any time you want me," she said.

"Yeah, just so long as I'm willing to share you with the paying public," I said. "Oh, and why did your asshole john imagine, know, that I had a small cock; and who was it told him I was a wimp, Jennifer? You? I'll pass on your implied invitation, thank you very much. And, I'll ask you again, why are you here?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. Like I said, you're my husband and I love you," she said. "And, as for the rest, well…"

"Yeah, well, whatever, right? Anyway, your john didn't kill me, so you can feel good again. And, you can leave," I said.

"Okay, Garfield, but there is one other thing. When you're up to it, I mean when you feel a little better, please, I'd like to take you to lunch or dinner if you'd allow. It's been a long time between meals for us. We need to sit down and talk. I mean if you'd be willing."

"What would be the point, Jennifer. I'm still a one-woman man, and you're still not a one-man woman; unless I missed something here?" I said.

"Food and talk, that's all, Garfield; oh, and the food's on me, I mean in case you were worried. Think about it." She placed her business card on the night stand beside the bed: Rosa's Beauty Salon. "Please, Garfield," and then she was gone. Rosa's Beauty Salon: blue hair for the ladies, sweet pussy for their husbands.

My next visitor was in a uniform. "Yes, officer, I'm mister Kline. And, yes, officer, I was assaulted. And, yes officer, I did tell the asshole to fuck off after he insulted me in front of god and everybody. And, no officer, I do not want to press charges. My medical bills are going to be paid by the guy, so my lawyer assures me, so it's okay. I just want to get the heck outta here and get on with my life," I said.

"All right, mister Garfield, it's your choice," he said, "Saves me a ton of paperwork, so who am I to complain. Have a nice day." The name plate on his navy-blues said McCoy. I waved weakly at him as he retreated to the nurse's station, no doubt looking for a day old donut.

I lay there thinking about Jennifer's request. Lunch? Dinner? Talk? Why? So I could feel worse than I already did. Not on your lily-white! I didn't need to talk to Jennifer Kline nee Randolph; I needed to forget her, an enterprise that was proving way more difficult than I'd hoped it would be. Difficult, hell! It was impossible.

I was sitting in my cubicle making a list of clients that I would be seeing the following week. One in particular figured to make my bonus for the year. If it closed by week's end, I was ten grand to the good. I hadn't had much to smile about since breaking up with Jenn, a year gone now; and no, I hadn't had that dinner and sit down with her; what would have been the point. But today I was smiling. Nothing was going to ruin this day for me.

Fred Lytle was CEO and the primary decision maker for Lytle Enterprises Inc. The for sale mall I was the sales agent for was being purchased by LE. It would be their flagship business center if all went according to plan. I waited for the call. No, that's not right. I waited nervously, anxiously, desperately for the call!

"Mister Kline, mister Lytle's on the phone," said Marilee, my assistant. I smiled and I answered it. Hanging up, I buzzed Marilee to come in.

"Make reservations for Antonio's for tonight, Marilee. Mister Lytle and I have a date," I said. I don't think I was too puffed up.

"Mister Kline, that's wonderful," she said.

"Yes, yes, it is," I said. "Marilee, I'm taking off now, I have some things to get ready for tonight."

"Certainly, sir, and I will have the reservations in your name for 7:00PM-as usual?" she said.

"Yes, yes, seven. I don't know what I was thinking. Seven it is."

******

"Yes, mister Kline, your parties are already here," said Ernie, the maître d'.

"Thanks, Ernie. But parties?" I said.

"Yes, mister Lytle and his lady friend.

"Oh, okay. Thank you," I said. He led me into the back where a private room for special occasions was located. I had called Marilee later in the day and instructed her to be sure that we got that room. We needed no interruptions.

He rose when I entered, and I hurried forward, not too obviously, and extended my hand. "Mister Kline, so good to see you," he said, as we shook. But, I didn't really hear him. I glanced past him to the lady, previously half hidden by the large man's body, the woman paled as did I. He noticed.

"I don't blame you for staring, mister Kline. Let me introduce the beautiful miss Randolph," he said.

She smiled mechanically at me, and offered me her hand. I did not smile back.

The shock was purely stunning. "Are you all right, mister Kline?" he said. I turned to face the man who a moment before was going to be the catalyst that made my career. But now…"

"Uh-actually… " I started. Jennifer seemed to be gathering herself.

"Mister Kline, I hope I didn't embarrass you," said Jennifer. Her words shook me. I made an effort to pull myself together. Lytle gave each of us a queer look, but Jennifer's charm brought him back. And the dinner meeting continued.

Jennifer was clearly a consummate professional escort. She had him laughing and me phonying up smiles to keep things on an even keel. The contract signed, the dinner eaten, the cocktails consumed: we parted.

******

I arrived at 7:00AM. The boss was waiting for me. Apart from nearly breaking my back, he hugged me so hard, everything went smoothly. The champagne flowed even though it was earlyam Bonuses were passed out. I didn't even open mine. I just smiled and joined in the professional banter, by 9:00AM it was over, and we all got the day off.

At home I looked at the two things on the dinette table. I'd been sitting there staring at them for more than three hours. My stomach was awash in butterflies. I just couldn't shake the image of her and Lytle in bed together. He was only the second of her johns that I had ever met, and the first one had put me in the hospital. This one was responsible for getting me a big ass bonus.

The two items held my attention.

I opened the first one: my bonus check. I knew that it should be ten grand. Peeling back the envelope's flap I pulled out the check. It was not the ten thousand that I had expected; it was for twenty-five thousand. Twenty-five thousand dollars to watch my wife make hay with her john; I was sick.

I picked up the other item, my cell. I dialed the number on the business card. She answered on the second ring.

"Hello," she said.

"The IHOP on third in half an hour." I hung up. I knew she'd be there. And, she was.

I stood behind the chair across from her. I was on a mission. "Your john was responsible for getting me a large bonus. Biggest I ever got actually." I still had not taken my seat. I pulled out the check from my blazer's inside pocket. I held it out for her to see.

Her eyes got big. "Jesus, Garfield, that is something," she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. I pulled out a lighter and set it on fire, burning it in front of her eyes. Eyes of customers near our table focus on the burning paper as I set the last flaming remnants of it in a utility dish that was on the table; it shriveled and was gone.

"For godssake, Garfield what are you doing," she almost screamed.

"I will not take money from anyone, even indirectly, who is screwing my wife, not ever, Jennifer Randolph, not ever," I said. She was mouthing something, but the words were incoherent to me. I turned and walked out.

******

"You mean he actually burned a twenty-five thousand dollar check right there in the restaurant!" said Diane.

"Yes. I guess holding out hope that he might someday lighten up is kind of a waste, huh," said Jennifer. I mean it's been over a year now-and the check." Diane smirked.

"Actually, there's a chance that you might have turned the corner with him. The way I see it either his love for you or his anger at you is fast flaming out. Like a falling star that glows brightly for a moment than is cold forever. I figure it's fifty-fifty one way or the other.

"Yeah, well you know which one I'm putting my money on," said Jennifer.

"Yeah, not exactly a 'glass-half-fuller' type are you," said Diane. "But the truth is, it really could go either way. If you can get him to sit down with you, you'll get him. If not, well, it is what it is."

"It's gone on too long, Diane. If he was going to knuckle under it would have happened already," said Jennifer. "I don't know why I've waited so long. I should just divorce him and put us both out of our misery."

"No, not even. Do you know he hasn't even had a date since he left you. Reason? Because he can't get you out of his heart," said Diane.

"Maybe true, but I'm a prostitute and he is not going to go along with me remaining one. Not a chance."

"Hmm, I think it's time for me to have another chat with your hubby," said Diane. "He's suffered enough. Time to pull him out of the blue funk that he's in." Jennifer looked her askance. Diane just smiled and it was the smile of a conspirator.

******

I saw her come in. I was on my third out of what figured to be ten manhattans. It was how I was coping anymore with the things my sooner-or-later-to-be-ex had done to me and was continuing to do to me.

Twenty-five fucking thousand dollars down the shitter, and that didn't even begin to compare to the heartache that Jennifer Kline nee Randolph had caused me.

"Hello, mister Kline," said a smiling Diane Kimble. "What did you think of the stuff I gave you a while back?"

"Why do you care? You did your worst, and it destroyed my marriage. But, to answer your question, I never looked at your garbage. Is that plain enough for you. Get lost," I said.

"Now, is that any way to talk to a friend," she said.

"Friend! You've got to be kidding," I said.

"Yes, friend. If I hadn't clued you, you'd still be an unknowing cuckold, and when you did find out, and you would have; it would have been a whole lot worse," she said.

"How do you know? It's plenty bad as it is," I said.

"I know because I'm your wife's friend-her best friend actually. Spoke to her just today," said Diane.

"Really. Best friends are you. With friends like the two of you-well, you get the picture," I said.

"Look, Kline, I outted her because I couldn't stand to see her screw around on you like that. It actually pissed me off. Here she has a good man, and what does she do? She fucks everything in sight and delivers sloppy seconds to him about half the time. No, I am not sorry I outted her, and for the record she understands why I did it and forgives me.

"And, if you have a brain in your head, you'll be doing the same for her. Forgiving her I mean, and getting by your mad. Being a pro is not the bad thing that the religious nuts say it is. It can be a good thing, a healthy thing. And it is, the way Jenn and I do it," she said.

"You're crazy. The both of you are crazy," I said, standing up and getting ready to leave.

"Sit down, sport, I want to talk to you," she said.

"About what," I said.

"Just sit the fuck down. I didn't come all the way over here just to see you run for cover like some high school kid. So, sit your ass down and hear me out," said Diane. I felt like a little boy in the presence of this particular whore for some reason, and I'll be damned if I knew what the reason was. I sat.

"Good. Now, are you ready to believe me when I tell you that your wife loves you?" she said. I looked at her and almost sneered-almost.

"If she loved me would she be a fucking prostitute?" I countered.

"Yes and no," said Diane. "The two things being married to you and being a prostitute are not necessarily mutually exclusive. So, okay, I've answered your question. How about you answering mine." I looked her askance and mouthed my answer.

"Yes, I guess I believe that she does, at least on some level," I said. "Just not enough to be my wife in the true sense of the word. A one-man woman," Diane snickered.

"Au contrar, sir. She is very much a one-man woman, and the one man is you. She just doesn't see that her getting paid to fuck means anything in regards to her love for the one-man she loves. She sure as hell doesn't love any of the men she screws for cash. I am more than sure you can understand and believe that," said Diane. "So, I guess the question is, can you see your way clear to talk to her about the way she sees things. I mean give her a chance to sell her position?"

"To talk to her? Maybe. To go along with her idea of a marriage? Not real likely," I said. "But, I guess, I've cooled off enough over the past year to talk to her. But, look, I have another question."

"And that would be?" said Diane.

"When you outted her, when she laid it on me that she was going to continue whether I approved or not: she had a choice. She could choose between her life as a lady of the evening or keep her marriage. She obviously chose her life of crime. Doesn't that indicate as clear as anything that whatever she feels for me that her life on her back means more to her than I do?" I said.

Diane smirked. "For a smart guy you really are a little bit behind the curve in your reasoning, Garfield. The short answer is no. The way she saw it, she figured that you would either approve of her little career or not, and if not then there was too much history-hers-for you to forgive let alone forget. She told me she actually considered dumping her activities to keep you. But, she knew you'd always have it in the back of your mind what she'd been doing for the past seven years, and never really forgive or trust her again. The way she saw it, she had no choice but to let you go. Her only hope was-is-to get you to be okay with her lifestyle.

"Garfield, she is willing to meet you half way, maybe even more than half way. Kind of adjust what she does to suit your life together. But, for you and her to get back, she needs to get you to appreciate that what she does is not the bad thing you think it is. One thing is for absolutely sure: if you can somehow some way see your way clear to accept her activities, she will more than show her appreciation to you," said Diane.

"I don't know. I just don't know. Talking to you it all seems so nothing. But, to be at home with her, watching her get ready for a date. A date where it is absolutely certain that she will be letting a man, some john, screw her-I just don't know. Could I handle it? Ever? I know I couldn't now, but even ever? Could I get used to it? Tell me, Diane, how does any man get used to something like that!" I said, with a little more vigor than was perhaps necessary. She nodded.

"There would be a learning curve, Garfield. And in the early going it might be a bit steep. It would be up to Jenn to handle things very carefully. She, we, the both of us, understand the male ego. She knows things would be a little hard in the beginning. But, in the long run you definitely would be able to handle it if you just gave it and her the opportunity.

"Look, Garfield, other prostitutes have husbands and do fine. And I mean the husbands do fine. You want a vanilla love life with malaise setting in after a few more years? You wanna be bored to tears for the last half of your life? I don't think so!" she said.

"Yeah well…"

"'Yeah well' nothing. That's what you'll have. Your wife is willing to give you time to wake up and get it. But, she won't wait forever, even though she's told me that she will. It's been a year already. Sooner or later some stud is going to ring her chimes, and being lonely will no longer be an option," she said. I had to admit her words made me squirm.

I looked her in the eyes. "Do it," I said. "Tell her I will meet with her. No promises, I'm not sure about any of this. In these last minutes, I've been mulling something over in my mind. But, that said, I will talk to her, see her. And, her without one of her johns hanging on her arm. Okay?" I said.

"You got it, big boy," said Diane.

******

We were sitting across from each other not quite staring. More a case of being tentative about what we wanted to say-both of us-than anything else.

Jennifer broke the ice. "Shall I start or do you want to," she said, in a voice that seemed almost disinterested, which surprised me. I had thought she'd wanted this sit down.

"Is there something wrong, Jennifer? Are you wasting my time?" I said. My voice was far from being disinterested; it was decidedly irritated. "Because, if you are, we're already done." Now, she was the one that looked surprised.

"No-no," she said. "It's just-I'm-I just don't want to; well, Garfield to be honest, I just don't want to have to defend myself or what I do. I came here because Diane thought it would be a good idea, and because of the distant hope that, well, you and I might mend our fences. But, I also worry that you might be thinking of trying to convince me to live-well-conventionally."

"Interesting. Okay, I'll be honest too, I don't know how this is going to go tonight, or really, what I might be willing to do or not do. But, I do have a question that I'd like to ask. I was afraid to ask you before, but I guess tonight is the night that we get it done, settle things once and for all," I said.

"Okay, I guess I kinda feel the same way," she said. "So what's your question?"

"Why, and-how long? I mean really?" I said. Jennifer sagged back in her seat.

"You want the truth? Actually, I should say, you really do not want the unadorned truth," she said.

"That's what I thought. No, don't tell me," I said. She just looked away. "That bad, huh?" I said. She turned back to face me.

"Yes, knowing the male ego as I do. Yes, that bad." I nodded.

"Jenn, I-I-I don't want to know, but, I have to know. Tell me," I said. She looked undecided, worried.

"Garfield, I really do love you. One of the memories I have of you early on in our marriage was of how confident you were in your manhood. You weren't the kind of man who was easily intimidated," she said.

"Yeah, I remember you saying something like that to me on that first date. It made me feel real good."

"Yeah, well that's why I married you, Garfield. Guys like-well-like I thought you were-well, they're pretty hard to find. That said. You do have some…"

"Some downsides?" I finished for her. She just looked at me.

"You could say that. You are a little on the short side for me, and your dick-well-it's kinda small." My face was flushed; I could feel it.

"Okay," I said. "So what. It's what I got. You knew that going in."

"Yes, and by themselves neither of those things would have been much of an issue, certainly not deal breakers. But well, and don't take this wrong, but Garfield, you aren't real good at love making." I sat stone still and stared at her. "When I married you, I was of the opinion that you were-well-trainable. But, it didn't work out that way," said Jennifer. "You're too darn stubborn."

"Don't take this wrong! Not good at love making. No damn good at love making!" I'd raised my voice to an unseemly level. Well, I was pissed. I tried to calm myself. "And you never told me any of this why?" I said. "You'd have thought that a wife of many years would have been decent enough to give her old man a chance. But, oh no, not my Jennifer; she just decided to get her jollies elsewhere. Hell who am I kidding; she didn't tell me because she'd just as soon have a hundred different cocks doing her than waste time training an inept sexual buffoon like me."

"Actually, Garfield, You aren't really all that bad. I overstated myself just now. Not great, but on occasion you could really light my fire. And, yes, I understand that hearing this isn't making me any points here. But, this is our big meet up, Garfield. When we leave here some things will have been settled. Maybe some really big things. I do not want our-history-we have hanging over our heads. I want it all out there-settled. But, that said, there were a couple of things that happened at the same time, I mean back then, eight years ago now. It was kind of a perfect storm of confluences," said Jennifer.

"Garfield, to give it to you straight, I did try not to stray when we were first married. I was able to keep my legs closed-except to you-for two years. But, I was frustrated and looking for a way to be unfrustrated. Diane was the one who convinced me to go into the business. She made the case that it was better than having what she called emotional affairs. Fuck, but don't get involved with any of the clients was her motto. And, I hasten to add, she advised me to make damn sure that I treated you as good or better than I ever had. Put another way, she told me I could fuck for money-a lot of it-but that I had to make damn sure that you were happy, taken care of first. That little matter was to be first and foremost.

"And, I am here to proclaim the truth that that is exactly what I did. Well, until lately. Diane, it seems, got to feeling kinda guilty for talking me into cheating on you. She decided to do something, something radical. She felt responsible, so she took what were-I guess you'd say-pretty draconian measures to get it done.

"She'd talked to me a lot about my actions early on. But, alas, I hadn't listened to her. I figured that I had you wrapped around my little finger and that I could do pretty much anything I wanted to you. Well, so she outted me, more to shake me up than to drive you away," said Jennifer.

"Really," I said. "Well, I don't know, but she-and you-sure as hell shook me up! Drove me right out of our marriage. Thanks one fucking helluva lot!"

"Hmm, maybe," she said. "But, I'm still bullish on our chances to get us to get back together and for the both of us to be happy. You especially, I mean even with what would be your lot as a willing but well-loved cuckold," she said.

I looked at her with what had to be a neutral expression. I had very, and I mean very, mixed emotions. On the one hand I wanted for this meeting to start the process of getting us back together, but her words condemning me for being essentially useless in bed, would not go away, would probably never go away.

Too, I had a real problem with sitting home on any given night waiting for her to get in from her liaison. The odd thing was that I was pretty sure that I would not actually be jealous of her johns. I'd given that a lot of thought. An affair with an emotional attachment would have killed our marriage instantaneously. But nameless, faceless, one night stands peopled by men who had to pay for it to get it somehow made the cut.

"A well-loved cuckold?" I said.

"Yes, and please do not imagine that I am insulting you or putting you down. We were married a long time; you absolutely should know that being my cuckold will in no way change that fact," she said. I nodded, but I was not convinced of her sincerity.

At that moment I knew what I was going to do. I would present it to her casually, even sweetly; but there would be no compromise. If she really loved me, as god knows that I had loved and did love her; then, we would make it. For sure we'd make it. And, I had to believe that in the long run, and maybe even the short run; she'd actually become a one-man woman and wife. I was smiling. She gave a funny look wondering, no doubt, what I was smiling about.

"You're smiling," she said. "Can I count that as good thing?" I ignored her question. I had to stay focused.

"Jennifer-I'm-I'm willing to try. I won't kid you. I might last a day. Or I might last a lifetime with this-situation. But, I am willing to try. But, that said, I do have a couple of requests," I said.

"Okay?" she said.

"Never in our house, no matter how much money some john might offer you," I said. I paused and looked her in the eye.

And…"

"Yes, well, you might not like this one. But it's gotta be. Okay? I'm giving up a lot," I said.

"Yes, you are, and I do appreciate how you must be feeling. So whatever it is…"

"I want half the money," I said. Her eyes got big. She started to say something, stopped, started again.

"Uh-okay. I think I understand. You're saying it can't be all me getting and you giving. That about right?" she said.

"That's exactly right. What you said a little while ago about me being no good in bed. That I'd even proven myself untrainable is how you put it." She looked away. I think she knew she'd said too much with that one. "I intend to do better, Jennifer. I want you to like me for what I am and for what I got and for what I can do. And yeah, I know it ain't all that much right at this moment. But, never fear, I intend to do a little research on the subject, you know, on the side," I said.

"Research? On the side?" she said.

"Yes, well, with other women. I won't be making any money at it. Well, I don't think I will, but if I ever do, I will be splitting it even up with you too, like you will with me. So, if these little things I'm asking for are okay by you, well then, we have a deal," I said.

"Wait, wait. You want me to share my future earnings with you? Fifty-fity? You want to be-with-other women? You mean… " she was becoming concerned, or confused, or something.

"Well, almost. I mean I will probably be doing some fucking on the side. You know, like you, learning all I can. Well, I mean if I can find me some women who don't mind a little dick and are willing to teach me some stuff; you know, so that I can be a better lover to you," I said.

"Uh-okay," she said. I'd caught her flat footed. She seemed unsure of herself. "And half my earnings?"

"Yes. Well, yes," I said. "I deserve it. It was me that did all of the suffering and losing out. Frankly, dear, you owe me-big time."

"Well-okay. I mean I see where you're coming from. I have to admit that it's hard to argue the point," she said. I smiled.

"Anyway, yes, the money. And, not just your future earnings, as you said, but all of your earnings. The money you've made since the beginning, as well as your future earnings. You know, seven years' worth, or, actually eight years now," I said. "And again, plus half of anything you make from now on."

"But-but… " she started.

"We're married aren't we?" I said. "Isn't a couple who are married supposed to share and share alike?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"How much is it, Jennifer. How much have you made over the last eight years being a prostitute?" I said. She stared at me.

"I'm not exactly sure. There've been investments. I'm not exactly sure.

"Look, Garfield. I will make your life wonderful. Sexually, you will lack for nothing. You want a chunk of money to have fun with, no problem. But half of everything I've worked for? Jesus, Garfield…"

"How much do you have in your special account and your investments, Jenn? If you love me, you will not deny me what I sacrificed for. And, I did sacrifice Jennifer. I sacrificed a lot," I said. She nodded.

"You're right. You did. I won't be stingy with you, Garfield, but not half of everything. That's just too much. Maybe twenty-five percent, and that's a lot believe me.

"And the other women you were talking about? Well, I guess I can't be a hypocrite and deny you what I've been enjoying for so long. So, okay with that too. But the same codicil holds for you as for me; none of your fluff in the house; it's neutral territory, like you said," she said.

"Of course it's neutral territory," I said. "But as for giving me only twenty-five percent, that won't fly. Either half or none. It's not only fair it's generous, I mean my asking for only half. I should get it all, Jennifer. Since every last dime of it was gotten at my expense and behind my back. My humiliation alone is worth the getting of it all.

She was shaking her head no. "Look, I worked, I earned… " she started.

"You see how it is, Jennifer? Your cheating has gotten us down in the dirt here. We are now arguing over money that you should never have gotten in the first place, certainly not from letting other men fuck you behind my back. Are you getting it, dear heart? Are you getting it?

"Garfield…"

"Keep your dirty money, Jennifer. Spend it on dirty things. Just don't bring any of it, or, yourself around here anymore. We're done," I said.

"What! Huh! I thought!"

"No, Jennifer, you didn't think. If you had agreed to share your ill-gotten booty fifty-fifty; we might have had a chance. I maybe could have seen that at least at heart that you were being straight with me. But, you haven't been and you're not.

"I should tell you, Jennifer, I had no intention of ever touching any of your wealth. I never would have taken so much as a penny of it. You clearly don't remember my burning twenty-five grand in front of your eyes. The money was and is meaningless to me. Us, me and you, our marriage, my marriage, my woman: those are the things that mattered to me, not your goddamn cash! Your money, Jennifer, is less than nothing to me other than as a symbol of how corrupt you've become.

"Tonight you offered me tokenism. That tells me exactly where your head is at, and where we'd be as a couple if I accepted your positions on these matters. So have yourself a ball, Jennifer, just not with me." I got up and strode out, not walked, strode. She made no attempt to follow me.

******

I was back at the Castellano. Travis was still tending bar there after all of these years. But, he was a bit older now, early thirties. At any rate, I was free. I didn't care if she came in anymore. She was nothing to me anymore. The way I knew that for sure was because of the fact that I didn't hate her. I didn't like her for sure; but, I didn't hate her for what she'd done and how she'd treated me. Put another way, I just didn't give a good goddamn!

"Well, Travis, how's it been around here lately," I said.

"Good, I guess. Sorry about you and your old lady," he said. He looked away.

"Travis?" I said. I could sense that he wanted to say something.

"It's none of my business," he said.

"Travis, come on, give it to me,' I said.

"Your wife, Jennifer. I was here when you met her. I knew her. She'd been doing men here off and on for about a year. Even I'd had her. I should have warned you… " he started. I stared at him.

"You had her? How much did it cost you?" I said.

"No-no, it wasn't like that, not then for sure. She wasn't a prostie. She just liked cock. Almost any cock. Like I said, I did her once. It was maybe six months before you met her."

"Well, don't sweat it. She actually started to tell me about her men, when we first started up together, but I was in love and I stopped her. Told her it was all water under the bridge or words to that effect. I guess maybe I shoulda listened, but even if I had…"

"Yeah, well she was a beauty. Actually, she still is," said Travis.

"Why? You seen her in here lately?' I said.

"Yeah, recently. In fact, like-now." He nodded toward the doorway. I turned to see what he was talking about. She was there all right, and dressed to kill. Figured she was there to cruise or meet somebody. I just snickered. Well this would be the test.

She hadn't seen me yet, and it had been a while, maybe six months, since I'd last set eyes on her. I could have slipped out. But, keeping to my resolve not to let her dictate my life, I turned back and resumed my talk with Travis. Then, she saw me.

"In coming, she's headed over here," he said. I took another swig, and no, it wasn't to buoy my courage. Well, that's the story I'd tell in a court of law.

"Hello, Garfield," she said. "Fancy meeting you here." I didn't turn around.

"Too good to talk to me?" she said.

"As a matter of fact," I said.

"Yeah, well maybe you're not exactly all that yourself," she said.

"Oh, I'm well aware of my shortcomings-no pun intended," I said. "But, one of 'em ain't being willing to talk to a wife who's been shitting all over me for years and dares to expect me to be okay with it. So pardon the fuck outta me if I find your company distasteful," I said.

"Whatever, asshole," she said, and she stormed out. Good, I thought, now maybe she wouldn't be coming around my favorite watering hole anymore. Okay, well, and you had to know that that would not be the case.

She'd gone, and I was talking to Travis about maybe going to the game on Saturday, now that it was college football season again. He stopped talking and he stopped wiping dry the glass in his hand and he stared, toward the door. I turned to look. There she was again, not but minutes removed from her first appearance on this particular autumn evening. Now, she was doing the striding.

"You're going to talk to me, and now butthead, and that's final," she said. "Come on." She turned and headed for a table near the back.

"You better go talk to her, big guy, I don't need no trouble in here tonight, and I smell it brewing with her in the mood she's obviously in," said Travis. I snickered, but I picked up my drink and headed for the table she'd marked out for us.

I plopped into the chair across from her. "Okay, butthead is here. Whaddya want, Jennifer?" I said. For a long moment she stared at me.

"The question is what do you want?' she said. "You said you didn't care about the money, at least you didn't the last time we talked."

"What do I want? I want peace. I want to be away from a whoring wife. I want to be left alone to try and put the ruins of my life back together. Do you want me to write it all down for you?" I said. She seemed to sag back into her seat.

"That's not what I meant. What I meant was what would it take to get you back. To being my husband again," she said. I looked at her like she was crazy.

"Impossible," I said. "And why, after all you said about me, would you want me back. You makes no sense."

"Because I'm a woman, and I'm in love with you, and I can't get over you. And bet on it, big guy, nothing's impossible. Difficult yes, but not impossible," she said.

"Again, why do you want me back, Jennifer? Whatever it is I got has apparently never been enough for you. I doubt if you need my money, not with the fabulous career you've got," I said. "You say you want me back because you love me. The very definition of love is the willingness of two people to sacrifice for each other. But you insist on living in a manner that is killing your partner's heart-my heart Jennifer!"

"Okay, I deserved that. But, to answer your question, again: I want you back for the same reason I always have, I love you. Can't escape it, can't get over it. Tried, but can't," she said. She started to smile, no doubt at the comical expression on my face.

"Love me? You love cock. And, mine ain't exactly star quality, but even if it were, you'd still be cheating on me in a fortnight," I said. She shook her head from side to side. The smile was gone.

"Would've been true before, but not now," she said. "I want you back, and your price will be paid, and paid now."

"Make me an offer," I said. She hesitated.

"All of my money," she said.

"Not enough," I said. She looked me askance. She nodded.

"And, I give up the life," she said. Now, she had my attention. Now, I was nodding. I'd begun to nod subconsciously, but now I realized it.

"Hmm, interesting," I said.

"Interesting? That's all you've got to say?" she said.

"Hmm, yes, interesting. Sounds to me like you are willing to let me dictate the terms of this little-treaty," I said.

"I was-am," she said. "I just want peace too. And, I want to be happy, not just thrilled by a big cock. I've discovered, and that only recently, the truth of that.'

"Oh, and how exactly did that one-hundred-and-eighty degree turnabout happen," I said.

"Diane, met a man. Gilbert Hennessey, if it matters. He's a lumberjack of all things. They got married. She gave up the life. She's been on my case to give it up too. And, I don't know, but seeing her all happy and everything. Well, it made me want the same thing for myself. Anyway, so here I am," she said.

"Really," was my brilliant reply.

"Yes, and if you agree, she's going to be my maid of honor at the renewal of our vows," she said.

******

EPILOG

Well, we did renew our vows. And Diane and her husband were prominent at that renewal. And that was eleven years ago, and things have worked out right nicely thank you very much.

Oh, and the money? I turned out to be almost half a million dollars, mostly from investments, but a huge chunk of the seed money for the investments was made on her back. We took the bucks and bought a small ranch in Arizona. We're cowboy and cowgirl now. Dance every Saturday night at the Lone Star. Oh, and she did train me, and that includes how to do the Texas two-step too. Helluva thing.

-----------------------------

   Series:Gillian and Herbert Miller
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She's got a chat room thing going, and he doesn't like it.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/68978/gillian-and-herbert-miller
Published:2011-08-13
Gillian Crowley and I met at a wedding reception for a friend of hers, Margaret Tilly; that was twenty-three years ago; we were both twenty-five and single. At any rate, I was actually a distant cousin of Margaret's. I was just adding my congrats card-with a crisp new C-note in it-to the pile of other gifts and cards, when a very pretty and sweet smelling woman doing the same bumped into me almost dropping her gift. Hers was a large box-I immediately thought microwave oven. She bumped me, excused herself, and thanked me for helping her keep from dropping her offering.

Later, seated two tables apart at the reception, our eyes kept catching each the other looking. Dinner done, a rather good band began doing its duty, and I asked her to dance. That dance led to a number of pleasant dates, and nine months later we were married-Margaret was Gil's maid of honor and Frank Cross, my best friend at the time, was my best man.

Maybe a little description of the two of us might be in order here. Gillian is slightly built and at five-eight rather tall. Her long dark hair is naturally curly and she generally wears it fluffed out and flouncy. Her butt is "oh so female" and she is inordinately proud of her very well shaped B-cups. Me? I'm right at five-seven, one-forty-five, somewhat thinning brown hair, and what Gillian describes as an interesting face-read, not really awful looking. Where Gillian tends to be playful and good natured, I'm more the serious type. I enjoy intelligent conversation and piano bars. Gillian is into partying and dancing. But, as for the dancing, she and I have both gotten into the ballroom thing and are actually pretty good at it; I just don't fool around with the hip-hop thing that she and a lot of her friends seem to also go for. And family…

Gillian's family all live on the East Coast far removed from us, and she gets along with few of them. Something to do with her mother and her uncle Charlie in times gone by. She never told me the story behind it, and I didn't push it. They were there and we were here, and never the twain should the hell meet. As for my family, except for a couple of distant cousins, like Margaret, I don't have any living relatives so it's a moot point.

For all of our twenty-three years together I would have to say we'd been happy. Sex was good, jobs were good, social life generally was also definitely good; yes, life in general was good.

As for our jobs, Gillian became a sales agent for Mobile Phone Inc. right out of college. Her bubbly personality and gift of gab made her a very valuable asset. And me? I'm more the introspective type, as I mentioned, with an almost neurotic propensity for detail which well suited the kind of work I did for Carter Laboratories Inc., a computer software firm on the rise in an ever growing field: I'm a cost analyst, I make sure the money goes where it's supposed to go. I'd gotten my job as a result of a job fair held at state during my senior year there. Hence, economically, Gil and I were doing quite well: I was pulling down maybe $200K annually including bonuses, and Gil maybe $75K. There were pressures, of course, mostly the result of our divergent personalities and the long hours our jobs sometimes required. But, all things considered, we got on better than most.

I always felt that one of the reasons, that we'd got on as well as we had, was because my wife had trained me well to be a good husband and lover. Yes, trained me: I was so pussywhipped that anything she wanted became my focus especially when it came to sex. I did everything in my power, as I saw it, to be worthy of her. And I was no fool, I knew that most marriages went stale, sexually at least, after a relatively short period of time, six or eight years was the norm or so I believed. I was determined not to let that happen to us. I didn't just love Gillian, I adored her. And no, the fact that at an almost five inches my dick wasn't all that, never made the slightest difference to her.

We'd had no children, and it wasn't for a lack of trying. But it just wasn't in the cards. I eventually had myself checked out, and, found I had a low sperm count. Having children wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, but it was a long shot. Helluva deal.

Gil took it well, my low sperm count, or so I believed. She even did her best to console me, if that's the right way to say it. Well anyway, and life went on. That is, it went on until now.

******

I held the one page printout in my hand. I'd read it three times and was in the midst of my fourth read through. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The words were becoming blurred by my tears. I heard her car pull up in the driveway out front. I waited.

My wife had been feeling real good for the past several weeks-no that's not right-she'd been feelin' positively ebullient! Why? There was no reason, and that was a reason for me to feel not good, or so I had begun to think. Sit around and wonder? Not me. I'd called a friend I worked with in the lab. Jiao Xu was a techie like no other; she could do anything with a computer, and the keylogger she had installed on my wife's had given up its secrets. And yes, I'd been concerned enough about things to feel the need to spy on her.

The back screen door to the kitchen slammed shut. I'd be havin' to do a little work with the tension bar to fix that. It almost made me smile. Here I was with my marriage maybe threatened and I was worried about the damned screen door.

"Herb?" You're home early," she said. I nodded. "Herb? Are you all right? You look like you're cr…"

I dropped the paper onto the kitchen table. "What's that?" she said.

"I'm going to have to do something about that screen door," I said, avoiding her question. I was still sniffling. She picked up the sheet of bond and began to read it. Done, she looked up at me. At first she said nothing.

"It's a print out of an e-chat," she said. "From my computer?"

"Yes," I said.

"It's nothing, Herb. It's just a chat room friend I sometimes chat with. It's nothing."

"A friend? You mean Michael?" I said. "His name is Michael."

"Yes, Michael. But he's just a chat room friend. We e-com sometimes. Nothing serious, just talk," she said. "We've never met in person-really."

"Just talk. You've never met him. But, you tell him things you don't even tell me. How's that?' I said.

"Herb, sometimes-sometimes-a body needs-well someone to talk to…"

"What are husbands for, Gil? What am I chopped liver? You can't talk to me?" I said.

"Honey…"

"Gil, you have to stop this chat nonsense. Since, as you say you've never actually met the guy; well, I can forgive and forget this once. But, it has to end. I'm your husband, not this Michael guy," I said.

I rose and headed for the back door. I would be making a point to close it more gently than she had; well, until I was able to fix it. I stopped just before going out, turned and looked back at her. She looked to be a bit down.

"Gil, just tell the guy you're sorry, but that you and I talked about it and it can't go on. It's too close a thing to cheating on your spouse to allow it to keep on." Then I was out the door and headed for my car. I needed a drink seriously bad; The Red Barn had all manner serious drinks.

******

The name of the bartender, my bartender at the Red Barn, was fittingly-Red. And, yes, he did have red hair.

I'd gotten out of the house for two reasons. One, the more I thought about her online boyfriend, for that's how I was seeing him, the more desperate I got: one, I was mortally afraid of losing her, and two, I wanted her to have a chance to contact him while the iron was still hot, to borrow a phrase. I guess I was looking a little down. Red dropped his ever present towel on the bar in front of me.

"You look like the guy that didn't win the lottery," he said. I looked up.

"Yeah, you could say that," I said. "My wife has a friend."

"I take it you do not mean best girlfriend."

"No, it's a man. His name is Michael," I said.

"And, he's better in bed than you are, or so she thinks," said Red.

"No, no, it's not that. She's got an e-friend. You know, the chat room thing on the computer and stuff," I said.

"Chat room?"

"Yeah, chat room. She claims she never spoke to him in person, never actually met him. It's just an online romance-my words. But, she says it's no big deal, just something that makes her feel good sometimes."

"Doesn't sound too bad," he said.

"Yeah, well she tells him things that she never would tell me. I told her she had to end it. For me it's cheatin'. I know that that might be arguable in court, but it's how I feel," I said.

"Well, he can't get his hands in her pants electronically," said Red, but I do see where you're coming from. I nodded. "Do you think she will?"

"Will what?" I said.

"Do you think she'll break it off with the guy?" I looked at him and stared.

"She has to," I said. "As to that, there is no choice. Otherwise it would be a real bad festering sore in terms of our marriage. Oh no, she has to end it. She just has to."

"And if she doesn't?" he said.

"I honestly don't know. I guess that might end it for us. Let me ask you, Red, do you see it as cheating?" I said.

"I guess it is, kinda. I mean how intimate are their conversations? I mean if all they're doing is talking about sports or crocheting socks; then, no, it's not cheating. But…"

"Hmm, yeah, I see what you mean," I said. I became lost in thought. I was remembering the things I'd read from the printout of her chats with the guy.

"Herb, doesn't think about me when we're having sex… Sometimes I could just scream the way he acts around my friends… Herb's a good guy, but he just doesn't understand me… he dresses like he doesn't care that he shames us when we go out." The list of things she'd shared with him was long. And the things he'd shared with her. "My wife is a cold fish… I haven't cheated, but frankly I'd feel justified in doing so… " He'd ended that last one with an LOL. Then, he'd propositioned Gillian, and they'd both LOLed when she'd declined his not very subtle invitation.

Oh yeah, pretty damn close to cheating. Pretty damn close!

"You okay, man?" said Red, as I resumed conscious thought.

"Yeah-yeah, I'm fine. Just a little confused, I guess," I said.

******

She was wrong of course. I did think about her and us when we were doing it. And we did do it kind of a lot, at least I thought that it was kinda a lot: twice a week. Thinking on it now, the stuff we did wasn't terribly imaginative, but it seemed to satisfy her, and it definitely did me? But, then again, maybe not her after all. What she'd said to the other guy-well-maybe not her.

I pulled into the drive and turned off the engine. I sat there staring at our front door. My stomach was roiling and I was almost on the point of puking. My conversation with Red kinda cleared my thinking some. I'd be talkin' to her. I'd be findin' out what else she'd been talkin' about with this e-friend of hers. E-friend? Helluva time we were livin' in. The old rules weren't the only rules anymore. I had to wonder what Dear Abby would've been sayin' about this e-stuff. I smiled at that. Dear Abby had an opinion on damn near everything.

I saw there was a light on in the kitchen. I could smell tea brewing. I looked at the clock on the living room wall: it was 1:00AM. She was still up. She looked over at me when I came in and sat down.

"I chatted with him," she said. I looked at her and she came to me with a cup of the tea.

"How did he take it?" I said. She looked at me with sad eyes.

"Herb, I'm not going to stop chatting with him. He-I don't know-he fills a need that I have, and I don't want to stop. I hope you can find it in your heart to try and understand. I need him for what he can do for me. You know, be a sounding board for my thoughts. A sounding board where there is no judgment, where there are no bad looks or bad vibes. Please, do try to understand," she said. "Herb, what he and I talk about doesn't change a thing about the way I feel about you, about the way I love you, my husband. It is completely separate from us. Please try to understand."

I just looked down. It was the worst moment of my life. I had no words. Her take it or leave it decision, and that's what it was, left me no room to maneuver. It very much looked like the end of our marriage. But was I over reacting? I knew that many would say that I was. But…

"I told him how you felt. He offered to stop chatting with me, but I told him no, that we would still be able to chat. I told him I would talk to you, reason with you, to not come between…"

"Come between the two of you?" I said, finally. She looked down. "Does it matter to you that he is coming between us? Because he is, Gil."

"Herb, he is not coming between us. He is outside of us," she said.

"I don't see it that way, Gil. You are being emotionally intimate with him at least that's the way it appears to me. Can you say you are not, can you honestly tell me you are not being intimate with this Michael guy in an emotional sense?" I said. She actually swallowed and looked away.

"It's a different kind of relationship that I have with him. It's most like one I might have with a close girlfriend. I do tell him stuff, but it is only…"

"It's hard when you feel you've been replaced, Gil. And, that is exactly how I am beginning to feel."

"Oh, now wait a minute, mister Herbert Miller! You are not being replaced. Far from it. If anything, Michael is helping us," she said.

"Now you wait a minute, missus Gillian Miller, we've been married twenty-three years. And, I don't want to see us ended because of some kind of computer love affair. And I very much fear it could happen. But, that said, I'm not ready to just trash our marriage and say sayonara. So, this is how it's going to be. In the end you're going to have to choose between your other man and me. Again, it's going to be your choice. I will give you a little time to make up your mind. But, while you are making it up, your mind that is, I won't be here. I'll be moving out tonight, now. I have my cell and you know the number. Call it when you decide what you're gonna do."

I rose, took a sip of the tea I hadn't so far touched, looked her in the eyes, and went upstairs to pack a few things. She stared at me in disbelief, but she didn't move or say anything.

I came downstairs and she was standing at the foot of the stairs waiting for me.

"You're really going to do this. You're really leaving," she said. She was still, I was sure, not quite believing her eyes and ears.

"I'll be back as soon as you decide that what you and I have is worth more than your dalliance with this Michael guy. I mean if that is what you decide. If not, this is the last you will ever see of me. I love you, Gil. But, I do not share my wife with any man on any level."

"Herb… " But, I was gone. Sick at heart, but I was gone.

******

Her fingers were tapping a tattoo on the booth's table as she waited for her visitor, a visitor that she had never before laid eyes on: Michael Waring. Denny's was a good place for coffee, she mused, an excellent place, actually.

She saw him coming through the restaurant's entrance: he was wearing the identifying Stetson that he had told her he would.

He saw her looking directly at him; her look identified her to him. "Missus Miller, I presume," said the man, as he took his seat. She nodded. She smiled; he was a handsome man, just as she'd pictured him: tall, dark hair and kinda unruly, and flashing eyes.

"And you are Mr. Waring, I hope," said Gillian.

"Not the best of circumstances for a first in-the-flesh meeting," said Michael.

"No, not the best. Michael, Herbert has left me. He thinks that what you and I have-well I mean… " She started to break down.

He had taken the seat opposite her, and now, reaching across, he covered her hand with his. "Gillian, he'll come around. And, my offer to stand aside still stands. If that's what it will take to save your marriage, it's a no brainer. We have to end our friendship if it means that much to him, really to the two of you. I understand that; and, I am ready to do so, painful though it will be for me," he said. "Oh, and you are quite pretty. I had pictured you being pretty, and you are."

"Thank you for the compliment, Michael," she said, "and, yes, it would be painful for me too for us to never chat again. Herb just has to understand that there is nothing bad about what we've been doing. He just has to.

"Mike, I do not want to end our little chat thing. It works for me, helps me; you help me. There is nothing bad in what we do," she said.

"Gil, I will follow your lead in this. Maybe we should meet for lunch again tomorrow to see where things are at. Maybe…"

"Yes, okay. I'm good with that. Here?" she said.

"No the Tocadero Arms, it's where I live. And it's only a mile from your workplace at Mobile-Phone," he said. She looked up at him.

"Really. I guess I never realized how close we were to each other geographically," she said. "Convenient."

"Yes, I guess so," he said. The talk wound down after some little bit, and then he was gone.

After he left, she realized that she had never told him where she worked, but, he knew. She put it out of her mind; she must have told him at some point; she just didn't remember.

******

I could see her waiting for me, when I got off work; she was just outside the main entrance. Well, so much for my pronouncement that she wouldn't see me again unless she'd done a one-eighty on her decision not to end it with this Michael guy. Well, then again, maybe she had.

My place of employment, Carter Laboratories Inc. is a quasi-private research firm specializing in nano-technology and software of the kind used by large commercial organizations like banks and heavy industrial. I'm a financial analyst responsible for making sure that the requirements of both our private and federal grants and MOUs are adhered to. It's important work, and I knew Gillian had always been proud of me. Too, she was thrilled with the pay and benefit package my job commanded, which added to her own, had us all but on easy street. But now, I was all but certain that she was there to continue her campaign to convince me to go along with her reasoning that her little chat sessions with this Michael guy were no threat to me.

She stared at me from ten feet away as I exited the building. It was 5:10. She was dressed to the nines; again, I didn't have to wonder what her pitch was going to be. She was wanting to talk, to take another shot at me.

"Herbert?"

I'd been walking and talking to a colleague. "Go ahead on home, John, I'll see you tomorrow," I said, turning my attention to my wife.

"Okay," said John, glancing past me to my very pretty wife. "Hey, Gillian, You look great," he said, as he strode off. She smiled and nodded her appreciation of his remark.

We waited for my coworker to put some distance between us.

"Why are you here, Gillian? You decided to keep me? To lose the other guy?" I said. "If not you're wasting your time."

"Herb, I need to talk to you. I realized after you actually left-and I still can't believe you actually did that-that I had done a very bad job of explaining things and kinda left you no room to, well… I was unfair. Please, let's sit down somewhere that serves decent wine and talk. Okay? Whaddya say?" I stared at her for a long moment. I couldn't imagine myself agreeing to what she wanted, especially knowing the way she'd talked about me. But, we did have a long relationship. I guessed I owed her another shot at the least.

"You follow in your car. We may not be going to the same place when we're done, but if you want," I took a deep breath, "I guess we can talk," I said.

"Thank you." We each headed for our cars.

******

The Calaboose was my second most favorite watering hole after the Red Barn. It had the added virtue of really good chili. Plus the bar girls actually made one want to commit crimes against the sixth commandment; well, but we, or at least I, never did. Plus the red pinot noire was pretty good. I'd half-finished my first glass before she said word one. I was about to take another sip when she finally did.

"I guess maybe I should start since I called this little sit down," she said. I nodded. "You-you probably know that I talk—chatted with him again today." I nodded. And, yes, I caught her almost slip of the tongue.

"As I have sometimes in the past, I asked for his advice," she said. "You know, about all of this." I nodded again. I waited. It was her show.

"He said I was crazy to risk my marriage over what he and I have," she said.

"He's right," I said. She sighed.

"Herb, if I were talking to a psychologist, you wouldn't have any problem. Would you?" she said.

"No, but you wouldn't be getting emotionally involved with a professional," I said. I remembered what Red had said. "Look, Gillian, if you were talking sports or about your latest crochet masterpiece; well, there'd be no problem if that was all it was. But, all the smack about me? And the other stuff? Go ahead and justify that shit if you can." She was silent for a moment.

"Herb-well-I was getting even with you. I shouldn't have been. And a lot of it was over the top, the words I mean. They were uncalled for," she said. I think my mouth was hanging open.

"Getting even with me! What the fuck for!" I said. "What the fuck did I do for chryssakes?"

"Frankly, Herb, much as I love you, and never doubt that I do; you've done a lot of stupid stuff," she said.

"Like for instance?" I said. I was a little miffed.

"Most of the time when we go out, you'd dress for comfort but never for me; you know, to make me proud. You just don't seem to care that a woman needs to feel proud of her man. Or we go to family or friends' do's and you drink too much and make an ass of yourself never caring how it makes me feel or makes us look as a couple. And, the worst, Herb, you hardly ever show me any affection anymore, not publically for damn sure. We cuddle a little at night, but that's about it. And the sex? Well, let's just say, that of late it ain't exactly been all that fucking wonderful. There's more, Herb, but you get the idea," she said.

"Last night when we had our conversation about my chatting with Michael, you mentioned that you thought that I should have been talking with you about the things-well-that I needed to talk about. Because you're my husband, you said. I've tried, Herb. In the past I've tried, and you always blew me off. So, I stopped trying," she said.

I sat there staring at her. "Gil! I never meant to blow you off any time," I said. "I'm sorry if I did. But replacing me is not the way to get even with me or to fix things between us. Not even."

"Herb, you're a man. Men-most men- don't think; they just want; they just seize the moment! So long as you can fart, and swear, and down the next shooter; well, then your satisfied. You've demonstrated your macho manliness. Well, some women, and I'm one of the some, need a little more than that from their guy, Herb, sorry, but it's true."

I looked at her. "And, this Michael guy, isn't like most men, I take it," I said.

"I don't really know. But no, not on the chat wire," she said. "Having him to chat with allows me a way to vent. I don't know, I guess it helps, helps me." I nodded.

"Gil, this guy Michael, as much as I am beginning to understand where you're coming from, and, maybe what you need; I have to say that I feel threatened by him. I know what you said. But, how can I be sure that I won't come home some night and hear you ask for a divorce.

"Herb, that is just not going to happen. I promise you. And besides, he's married too. If that makes a difference," she said.

"Okay, Gil, I'm real antsy about this thing, but I guess as long as you never meet in the flesh…"

Her look? It could have been my imagination, but her eyes seemed to dart away for the briefest of moments. But then, she tendered me a reassuring smile. I let the look slide.

"Herbert Miller, I'll say it again, you will never lose me, not to Michael, not to any man. And, share me? You're not, not in any real sense of the word. I love you too much for any of that. It's just that, well, I need this little chat thing on the side.

"Herb, I promise you won't regret it. Girl scouts honor," she said, and she raised her hand and proffered me the girl-scout salute.

"Gil, I won't pretend to feeling good about it, but I guess you deserve to have your little chat room thing. So, okay, so long as you never get physical with him, start meeting with him face to face, well, I guess I can live with it," I said. There was that look again; but also again, she smiled broadly. She came to me.

"Mister, tonight you are going to be rewarded and that big time. And a lot of other nights too," she said. "You and I, big boy, are going to be getting our act together," she said. "Let's get out of here." The ride home was quiet, but she sat close to me and let her hand rest on my thigh as we drove. We'd left her car in the lot to be retrieved later.

At home, we wasted no time getting inside. She took me by the hand and led me toward the stairs. I wasn't sure how I was feeling about things; but I was currently, and for the moment, in her thrall. I'd made her happy, and she seemed determined to make me happy, not him, not for the moment at any rate.

We slowly undressed each other; then, stood slightly apart staring into each other's eyes. She was beautiful and slender and delicate and female and absolutely in ownership of my heart. I hoped against hope that this might be the beginning of something very good for us-especially for me. At our twin ages of forty-seven, and near twenty-three years of marriage; we'd gotten a little stale; I knew that now. But, maybe things could change. Maybe she'd been right about her chat thing being good for the both of us.

I reached for her and gently kissed her, no tongue, not yet, just softness. She leaned into me and her hardening nipples made me know she was ready for me, ready to give herself to me. There was nothing ambiguous in her eyes now, no darting eyes now: she wanted me. And oh my God how I wanted her.

She led me to the bed and lay down on it, her legs splayed wide for me. There is something almost divine about a woman willingly surrendering to her man. I realized at that moment what was meant by the phrase "forsaking all others." It meant these kinds of moments could be shared only between spouses. Her chats would never be anything like this. Michael, whoever he really was, could never have this, not in some virtual chat room. As I lowered my face to her mound, I felt myself accepting her reasoning about the chat thing; I no longer felt challenged by it.

Sliding up her body I kissed her. I probed her slit with the head of my cock and pushed. I slid in easily. She rose to meet my thrust and then she was impaled and I was screwing her. She mooed and moaned and shivered when she came. I knew she wasn't faking it. The look on her face was stunning. I'd not seen that look before. She looked-what-frightened? She stiffened and saliva dribbled from the side of her mouth as a cataclysmic spasm seized her. I reached my own climax not but seconds behind her. I felt guilty: I suddenly felt sure it was the first time that I had ever given her an orgasm. In twenty-three-years! I held her and comforted her because she was crying.

She reached for a tissue on the night stand by the bed. "I love you, Herb. That was wonderful."

We weren't done. We rested for a little while, and then, rolling her over, I took her once more from behind. I think she had a smaller orgasm that time too; but, I wasn't sure. We slept.

******

Our sex life was energized. We did it at least once every night for that next week. But, we didn't seem able to quite recapture the thrill of that first moment the week before. She, for her part, was very giving. I was getting my first blow jobs in a long time, and she was initiating sex as often as I was. For my part I was doing my level best to pleasure her. I knew, almost as an absolute fact, that I had been able to get her off at least one other time during that ensuing week. She seemed satisfied. That, the way I saw it, was both good and bad.

She seemed satisfied but not thrilled, not excited to be making love to me. I hoped I was just being paranoid, that I was wrong. I didn't want to believe she was just allowing me mercy fucks. Sex for the sole purpose of keeping "me" satisfied so I wouldn't rain on her chat room activities. But, I just couldn't shake the feeling. And, on another level, the full realization that for our entire married life, I had failed her sexually. My guilt at that probable reality stunned me and sickened me. The time would come when I would be getting down on my knees and begging her forgiveness for my selfishness, but not yet.

In the weeks immediately following our excellent night and the rest of that first week, things did gradually slow down. We went from doing it anywhere from three and four times a week to as little as once a week by the time a couple of months were in the books: fewer, actually, than before the big blow up. She didn't seem to realize it either; or, realize that I did.

As for her chatting, it didn't come up. I was sure she was doing it, chatting; but she was clearly at pains to not be rubbing my nose in it. I was glad about that, but in truth I was somewhat concerned about it too. I had only checked the keylogger a couple of times during that two month stretch; I'd found nothing objectionable. She must have known that I had a way into her computer. I had, after all, handed her that printout a couple of months past; she was being careful, and so must he have been.

******

He got up from the divan where they had been sitting side by side. He put his stem-glass down on the coffee table and reached for her hand to help her up.

They faced each other. "He still in the dark?" said Michael, as she stood in front of him, hands on his shoulders.

"Yes. Not a clue," she said.

"You know," said Gillian, "since that first lunch, and the lunches since and our meetings here," she indicated their current surroundings: his living room, "Herb hasn't even brought up our-chatting. Sometimes, I think he wants to, but he never does.

"We do need to keep up the chatting though or he might get suspicious. I love the guy, and I don't want to lose him, but… " she said.

"Yes, I know what you mean. You love him, and we both love you.

"Gillian, I need to ask, are you taking care of him-well, you know," he said.

"Fucking him? Yes, I am. At least once a week. Less than that would raise red flags real quick," she said.

"That's all! Once a week? You and I do it three and four times a week. You need to up his quota a bit, Gillian. A man, any man, married to a woman like you cannot possibly be satisfied with once a week," said Michael.

"It's hard. I dare not be giving him sloppy seconds, and I need at least one down day after you do me because of the size of your cock. He'd know in a heartbeat, that I was fucking you, if I came to him all loose and stretched out. I need time to close up a little," she said.

"Yes, I see what you mean," he said. "Well, I guess he stays on short rations then."

"Sometimes I wish we hadn't had those lunches. It would have made things a lot less complicated," she said. "I know it was my fault as much as yours, and I do love that oversized penis of yours, but, I do not want to lose my husband; and, well, and things are just so complicated."

"Yes, and even with all of the problems I am having with Doris; well, I don't need a divorce either. She's a great wife except for the sex part. She's always gone on her business trips and when she's home she is way too worn out to give me all of what I want and so desperately need," he said.

******

"Honey, could you get the drinks from the frig?" she called to me. We kept the beer and the wine-the wine that needed to be kept chilled at least-in a small frig in the service porch. The service porch was actually the laundry room. It was fairly large and the two dirty clothes hampers, a his and hers, were there.

Pulling a Heineken for me and a small bottle of white wine for her, I noticed a pair of her panties on the floor between the dryer and the hamper. I picked them up to put them in the hamper where they belonged. I didn't recognize the sexy pants but I immediately recognized the encrusted stains on them: semen, cum, and it wasn't mine.

"Honey, did you get lost?" she said, coming back to where I was. I was in a state of shock with my back to her. I turned and handed her her stained panties.

"I found them on the floor. You might wanna put them in the hamper," I said, my voice level and emotionless. Her face lost almost all of its color. I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I'd left the beer and wine on top of the refrigerator. She brought them in with her.

For the next little while nothing was said between us. She served us our dinner and handed me my beer. We ate and I did my level best not to meet her eyes. I was having trouble holding back the tears. My heart was stone cold and-something.

"Honey, I can explain," she said. I finally looked up. My efforts to hold back the flood were fast failing.

"I can too," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"I can explain. You're fucking him. It's Michael isn't it," I said. She didn't respond.

I continued to eat. "The stew is very good," I said. My mind, my soul, my life were in a swirl. I didn't know what to do or what to say. In time I would: tomorrow, the next day, but not right at that moment. No, not right at that moment.

She apparently felt the same way: she said nothing. Dinner done, we cleaned up the kitchen together as usual and headed for the stairs and to the bedroom. It was surreal. We undressed like we did every night. She slipped beneath the covers with only her panties on; me in only my skivvies, just like always.

For a while we just lay there. I guess she was lost in her own thoughts; I know I was in mine. She turned toward me and reached for the front of my underpants. She squeezed my cock, and yes it-I-responded. I did nothing to object to her fondling me. She pulled it out and slid down my body taking me in her mouth; I let her. She sucked for a long time; I exploded in her mouth; she swallowed it all. She slid back up, kissed me on my shoulder, and spooned against me. She wrapped me in her arms while for my part I began to tear up, again. Did I say surreal?

"We'll deal with it tomorrow, Herb. We'll be fine. I promise." Somehow, I was able to sleep. Tomorrow was Sunday; it would be a trying day. Why wasn't I up in arms? Why wasn't I kicking her cheating ass to the curb? I didn't know. I honestly did not know what to do. Maybe, it was because I wasn't really surprised; maybe, deep down, I had expected it. But in truth, I really didn't know. I would wait to see how things worked out tomorrow. I needed to sleep. I did.

******

The light filtered through the blinds and woke me. I was alone in bed. I could smell the bacon sizzling in the kitchen below. I rolled out of bed, pee'd, pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts; I'd shower and clean up later. I headed downstairs. Odd, I wasn't worried. I wasn't insanely angry or jealous. Was I losing my mind? As I neared the kitchen, I heard her on the phone. I decided to hang back and hear what I could hear.

"Yes, he's discovered us… No, no blow up no craziness, anger… I don't know… Yes, he and I are going to be talking soon, maybe after breakfast… I don't know; I don't want to lose him, but I don't want to lose you either… Yes, maybe tomorrow not today; he needs me today… today will be for him… Thank you for that… Yes, we may have to cool it for a while… Okay, I have to go; he'll be down before too long… Goodbye… Love you too." She hung up.

"Morning," I said. "That him?" She paled a little, gathered herself, and tendered me a sympathetic look. "Did I hear you right? Today will be for me, I mean not him?"

"Herb, what's going on? Aren't you angry? Why aren't you angry, something? What's going on? You're scaring me," she said.

I slid into my usual seat. "Going on? You tell me. You said you loved him? Oh, and I don't mean to scare you?" I said.

"Yes," she said. "I explained to him that…"

"Yeah, I know, that I'd discovered your secret," I said. She looked down.

"I didn't want to hurt you," she said. "I love you."

"And him? Do you love him? I heard you say you did," I said. She spun around cloaking her face from me. She turned back to me.

"In a way, I guess I do," she said. Apparently she'd decided to be honest. In some strange way I found that, not comforting, but-refreshing. She'd been sneaking around, fucking another man, falling in love with another man, and I found her remarks refreshing; go figure. At any rate I wasn't quite old news yet though I had to think that it was just a matter of time before I was. I had to do something if I was going to save my marriage, I mean if I even wanted to. Did I? The only thing I knew for sure was that I was scared.

"Thank you for being truthful. It hurts, a lot, what you're doing, but it would hurt more if you lied to me on top of it all. I mean the cheating is bad enough, but to pile lies on top of it would make things infinitely worse.

"I heard you say that today was for me. Was that a true thing?" I said.

"Well, yes, of course it's true. But-Herb-what's going on. What are you thinking? Why are you acting this way? What are you going to do?" she said.

"Truthfully? Long term, I don't know. But if today is really for me; well, I'm going to make the most of it," I said. She was becoming very disconcerted. She didn't know what to say or how to react. I guess I was being very-what-obtuse? Something.

I watched her piddle around in the kitchen for a bit. Soon breakfast was on the table: oatmeal and eggs. I liked oatmeal and eggs. I figured she was trying to win me over: kind of a play on that old cliché, the way to a cuckold's heart was through his stomach.

Breakfast over and the dishes cleared, I went to her and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm going upstairs and clean up," I said. She nodded.

"I'll be up in a few minutes," she said.

"I was in the shower soaping up when she, unannounced, joined me. God she was beautiful.

"Rinsed off, she got down on her knees right there in the shower, and took me in her mouth. Two blow jobs in less than twelve hours; it'd never happened before. She swallowed.

"I wanted to get the first one out of the way, lover. I need you to last a little longer this morning. She was still fondling my almost five-inch gun; she seemed to be staring at it.

"It ain't much," I said, reading her mind. "But, it's all I brought with me today," she looked a little-caught-I guess would be the word. "He's bigger, huh?"

"It's not about cock size, and this is your day, our day, my husband. Forget about him and come on." She led me by my cock into the bedroom. Pushing me back on the bed, she lay on top of me grinding her pussy into my already re-hardening cock. I rolled on top of her and took her. I took my time and made slow sensitive love to her. I figured, that if I couldn't thrill her with the size of my cock, that I could at least go for the most loving category, the most sensitive trophy. I was able to last some little time, and she was able to get off maybe twice; me once, another record for me, us: I kinda surprised myself. I mentally congratulated myself: getting her off was major the way I saw it. I hoped it would mean something long term for us now that I knew just how awful a lover I'd been for twenty-three years.

We lay satisfied-for the moment.

Dressed I headed for the yard and she headed for the laundry. When she did, I thought of the panties I'd found the night before; I began to tear up again. I'm not sure whether she noticed or not.

I knew she'd be calling him at some point. I wondered what she'd be saying to him.

I did some little backyard gate repairs, and came into the house through the kitchen door. She was just hanging up. I wondered if it was him or maybe her sister Marlaine. I didn't ask. She looked at me; she didn't look guilty, maybe it was her sister.

"You done out there?" she said.

"Yes. Just have to put away the tools. Why, whatcha got?" I said.

"No, nothing. I was just wondering," she said. "It's Sunday. I thought maybe we could go for a drive. You know do something together. Maybe go out to eat?"

"Yeah, we could do that. I do want to maximize my day," I said it without any sarcasm, kinda matter-of-factly, she frowned.

I wheeled us out onto the highway and toward the nearby foothills we used to hike when we were a bit younger. She moved over next to me and laid her hand on my thigh; it was all it took to alert my little head. I looked over at her and she smiled.

"It doesn't have to hurt us at all," she said. "He's outside of us." She smiled. I nodded but didn't smile. I still didn't know what I wanted to do. I still didn't know why I was delaying doing or even saying anything very meaningful. I just drove. After some little time, I pulled into a stand of sycamores and parked; there was no one else nearby. She got out and went to get the little picnic basket she'd prepared for us. I spread the blanket out that I always kept in the trunk for situations like this.

We ate a little and drank a bit of wine that I'd brought along. Finished, we stretched out on the blanket and let the waning sun warm us. It felt good. For some moments my troubles and my situation seemed far away. It couldn't last.

She rolled on top of me and kissed me deeply. "He never gets this, just you," she said.

"Could we not talk about him today?" I said. "It's my day. I don't want to share it another man. Would that be all right?" She became pensive.

"Yes, that would be fine," she said. "I just meant that you are always number one, make no mistake." I gave her a look that she, for some reason, didn't like.

"Herb, forget him. This is our day, your day," she said. My turn to comment.

"I'm trying to, but you keep bringing him up," I said.

"Okay, okay, I was just trying to let you know that you're number one that's all," she said.

"But, I have to share don't I. I have no choice if I want to keep you, do I?" I said. My cock which had been hard shrank in my pants. She noticed. She reached for it. For the first time in our married life, she was unable to bring it to life. A sadness at my situation and at her efforts to placate me overwhelmed the both of us.

"My God, I am so sorry," she said. I rolled away from her.

"It's getting late," I said. "We have to get going."

"Herb," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's your day. Come on, let me help you out." I swallowed almost choking on my own spit.

"No, we should go. It's okay, but we should go," I said.

We packed up and began the drive back to the house. It was 6:00PM when we finally pulled into the drive. I'd been able to calm down some on the drive. Why me, I mentally asked myself. What did I do to deserve to be her cuckold? Of course the answer to that was manifold, and I knew it. My less than average skills as a lover and of course all of the other things she'd laid on me those many weeks ago now.

Once in the house, she ran up the stairs telling me she'd be a few minutes. I shrugged.

I was in the kitchen when she came down. She was naked except for her high heels. "Got something for me in those pants, mister?" she said. I wasn't in the mood, not really, but seeing her like that my little head betrayed me, or maybe under the circumstances encouraged me was the more accurate appraisal of my situation. I went to her and pulled her to me and kissed her. I didn't say anything; I just led her out into the front room. I took her missionary on the floor; I could see her trying to make it good for me, and that in itself all but ruined it for me, and I am sure for her. At that moment, in spite of her protestations to the contrary, I knew; I knew we were over. Thoughts of her and her Michael tormented me even as I drained my cum inside of her. She didn't climax. I apologized.

"It's okay, my husband. It's okay. It's hard to make a woman cum by screwing her. We make it sometimes, and that's good. Okay? Right?" she said. I forced a smile and just headed for the shower. As I washed the smell of sex off of me, I knew I'd likely be the topic of conversation between her and him, and it bothered me; it bothered me a lot.

*******

She lay exhausted beside him, more than satisfied. His cock always satisfied her. His dong seemed twice the size of her husband's not quite five inches. Her husband, yes, faithful and hardworking Herbert. She loved him still after all of the years, but she needed Michael too. Did she love the man lightly snoring beside her? Probably, in a way. She let her gaze wander down to his flaccid cock: it sure was big, even after three go 'rounds.

They'd been at it virtually since he'd arrived six hours earlier. Herbert at work and Michael at work on her. She'd had to take a sick day to meet with him. The thought brought a wan smile to her countenance. But, then she frowned. What was Herbert up to? He'd discovered her-their-indiscretion, but he had not reacted as she had thought he might. He was still loving, a little disappointed she was sure, but still loving and still calm; that was the word, calm. Ironically, it was her Herbert's very calmness that worried her.

The man beside her stirred. "Hmm, how long have I been asleep?" he said. "What time is it?"

"Maybe an hour," she said. "And, it's a little after 3:00." He yawned.

"I guess I better get dressed and get going," he said. "Was it good for you?"

"You know it was," she said. "But, yes, you need to get home. Herb'll be home in a couple of hours and I have to clean the place up some. Plus you have to get home to your wife. She's coming home tonight?"

"Yes, she's coming in on the 9:00PM out of Dallas.

"But on another subject: I thought you said he knew about us and was okay with it?" he said.

"No. What I said was that he knew about us and wasn't going all crazy on us. He is being calm and loving. He for sure doesn't like us doing it, and he's hurt, but he's apparently resigned to it. But, that doesn't mean that I'm-we're-going to be rubbing his nose in it. I refuse to do that to him; he's a good man. It's just that he's not all that in the love making department. He tries, and he's been better lately than in the past; but that said, he just doesn't have what it takes, and there's not much hope he ever will," she said.

"Yes, I see what you mean. I don't want to be rubbing his nose in it either; he might not react well to that at all. I sure as hell wouldn't.

"Gillian? You don't think he's got something going that you-we-don't know about, don't expect?"

"No. No, I don't think so. He's just trying his best to come to grips with the fact that he's a cuckold. He's hurting, and at times I can tell he's about to cry; but to his credit, he sucks it up and acts like the man he is. He'll settle down and accept his status soon. I know it's hard for a man; you know, the male ego being what it is and all.

He rolled over toward her on the bed and kissed her. "Well, like we said, I better get out of here so that you can do what you need to do," he said. "Besides, Doris will be expecting me to be up to snuff; that is, if she's not too tired or in one of her moods. Being financially independent has its downside. She'd kill me in a divorce. Her dad's a divorce attorney. I don't recall if I ever told you that," he said, laughing at his own words.

"No you never did," she said. For some reason, what he said sparked a memory of something else he'd said: Oh yes, his mentioning where she worked when she had never told him anything about her job, at least not up till that time. She had an uneasy feeling. She put it out of her mind.

******

I leaned against the hallway wall and listened to them, and I "didn't" suck it up; I sobbed instead, just like a little boy. I was quiet about it, but I did sob. I could hear him donning his clothes. I headed for the dinette. A shot of brandy would be useful right now; now, this last few minutes of my marriage to Gillian Miller nee Crowley.

I was actually on my second shot when I heard them coming downstairs. They were talking kinda low, but I did manage to hear them saying some stuff about me.

"Well, make our little cuckold as happy as you can. Neither of us needs the kind of grief that he can unload on us if he decides he isn't loved," said Michael Waring.

"I will," I heard her say, "and make no mistake, Michael, Herbert is loved. I mean I won't be just trying to make him believe he is; he is. Get that. I love you too, but in a different way. Okay?"

"I understand. I misspoke," he said. "I know you love the guy. And, I think that's great. I misspoke."

They came into my view when they reached the bottom of the stairs. They embraced and looked into each other's eyes. He smiled; she smiled; and then he saw me.

"Oh shit," he said. She gave him a quizzical look; then, following his gaze, she saw me.

"Oh my! Herb, how-how long have you been here?" she said. I looked up and took another sip of my drink. I didn't respond. I stood, lifted my drink, and was about to take another sip but changed my mind. I looked over at them, looked down, up again, and hurled my shot glass, still half full, as hard as I could at the wall. It shattered into a million pieces.

"Herb! Please! Please stop. It isn't what you think. I love you!" I just snickered.

"I'd been willing to try, Gil. But no more. I wanted to try, but no more. In our marital bed, Gillian! In our marital bed! The two of you have no shame? No shame and no limits. I refuse to be-your little cuckold, I think is how this man of yours referred to me, Gillian. I'm a man, your husband, a human being, not your little cuckold. I refuse, Gil, I refuse. I will file tomorrow," I said. I walked past them and headed upstairs to pack.

"Herbert! Please, stop for a moment," she said. She turned to her lover.

"Michael, you better go," she said. "Herbert and I have things to talk about."

"Yes, I understand. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Just go, Michael. I'm going to be very busy. Please, just go," she said

She came upstairs and watched me for a moment as I packed some necessaries. "You're leaving me?" she said. "After all of these years after all we've meant to each other? You're leaving me."

"You left me, Gillian, not the other way 'round. I warned you that this e-chat thing was going to hurt us, but you decided to go behind my back anyway and meet with the man knowing how I felt about it. Then, after I discovered you, even then, I tried to deal with it; and you have no idea how hard that was for me, I mean to be your de facto willing cuckold; you made the unilateral decision to bring him into our house and fuck him in our marital bed! You broke my heart, Gil; you broke my heart. I will be a long while getting over what you've done to me if I ever can. Thanks a helluva lot," I said. I wasn't crying yet; I guess I was too angry. The tears would come later.

"I'm sorry, Herb. I didn't think. I'm very very sorry. But, it doesn't have to end us. If you heard it all, you heard me tell him how I felt about you. I love you."

"And I heard you say you love him. Why? Because you can talk to him and not me. Does he have a bigger dick? Why, Gil? Why do you love him? Tell me." I said.

"I don't know. I guess it has to do with being able to talk to him, yes. I don't know?"

"The sex? What has that got to do with talking to him? Tell me that?" She looked away.

"I don't know. It just happened," she said.

"No, Gil, he found you on the net and set you up, set me up. He was after your pussy the whole time. Probably other women too. You were just too damn dumb to realize it. He is not a good man, Gil. He's going to hurt you. The bad news for you is that I won't be there to catch you when you fall. And you will be hurt, you will fall, Gil; I guarantee it."

"You are taking it all wrong, my husband, and yes I do mean my husband; you will always be that to me; and you will always be there for me if anything bad happens; it's who you are. But it won't, Herb. He is a good man. He has nothing against you. He doesn't know you," she said.

"Yes he does, Gil. He knows all about me because you've told him. I heard him in there talking smack about me," I said.

"He didn't say anything bad about you, Herb. What are you talking about," she said.

"He didn't refer to me as his little cuckold?" I said, "and yours. You don't think that that was an awful thing to call me, even as he was fucking you?" I said.

"He didn't mean that in a mean way," she said. "He appreciates that you are my husband. Really."

"He didn't mean it that way? Then, what way did he mean it?" I said.

"Herb, get a grip. You are blowing this way out of proportion," she said.

"No, no really, how did he mean it. Please tell me. I'm listening, maybe for the last time. Please, how did he mean it when he called me his little cuckold," I said, "because, if you care to know, it was those words that killed my heart and put an end to us," I said.

"He just meant it was-well-a definition. We-he-was doing me and technically…"

"Yes, technically that made me his cuckold-oh, and yours. Now, how about the 'little' part? Is that part of the definition too?"

"Well, no… " she started.

"No indeed. What it meant, Gil, was that he holds me in contempt because he is screwing my wife, and I haven't had the balls to try and stop him. Contempt, Gil, for me; he holds me in contempt, and you letting him get away with it shows me that you do too. Hell, why should either of you feel bad about that; 'I' hold me in contempt!"

"I do not!" she all but screamed at me. "I love you. I mean it. He could never come between us in any real sense."

"Hmm, so you love me?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Wanna save the marriage, Gil?"

"Of course. I do not, I repeat, I do not want a divorce!" she said.

"You love me a lot, more than him?' I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Okay then, get on the phone with him and tell him he's history. Do it now, save me having to pack anymore clothes and stuff. Do it now, and somehow, I don't know how, but somehow we will get by all of this," I said.

"I-I can't." I nodded and resumed my packing. Done, I headed downstairs with the two suitcases. She followed me, and I think she wanted to reach out to me, but she didn't. No more was said. She watched me from the doorway as I backed out of the driveway and drove off."

******

"Usual?" said Red.

"Yeah, yeah, Jack on the rocks; make it a double," I said. I'd made my way to the Red Barn. I needed a drink, several drinks.

As I sipped, my resident psychoanalytic clinician, Red, watched me. I've heard that good psychologists are good listeners and even better observers. I had the feeling that I was being observed quite closely by my good friend the bartender. He eventually wandered over toward me.

"More wife troubles?" he said.

"Yeah. We're done," I said. He nodded as he dried a pilsner glass.

"It happens, I guess," he said. "But, we have to get on with life. Can't sit around all mopey all the time. Trust me, I know the game."

"I reckon," I said. "But, it's hard. I do so love her. She's been my all for so long that I cannot even imagine life without her. But, it's even more difficult to imagine my having to share her with another man. I tried, but in the end I just couldn't do it. When I saw…"

"You saw them together!" said a shocked Red. I just shrugged.

"Oh man, that was not good," he said.

"No. No. Not good," I said. "Singularly bad actually."

******

Between getting off work at 5:00 and getting to sleep around 11:00 or midnight: I spent most weekday nights, after my break up with Gillian, now a full year in the past, either sitting on a bar stool at the Red Barn and occasionally the Calaboose; or walking long range, three miles, on the city park pathway. Life for me had taken on an element of sadness, and exercise and alcohol-talk about contradictions-were the means I was employing to reduce my pain.

I didn't sob myself to sleep anymore, and I didn't complain to Red, or anyone else for that matter, about the tragedy of my marital situation. But I didn't socialize. I didn't chase skirts. Women just didn't attract me much anymore; I guess I'd been too badly burned. Well, that is I hadn't been attracted until Red had an appendicitis attack and was out for two weeks. His stand in for those days was a woman named Martina Flores, a citizen of Belize. Five-ten, long dark hair, B-cups, and a sensational butt. What was so attractive about Martina, at least to me, was her buoyant personality. The struggles of her personal life did not seem to hold her back-the absolute opposite of me; I was still inwardly crying in my beer.

"Martina," I said, reading her name tag. "You're in for Red?"

"Yes sir, Red's out sick," she said.

"Nothing to serious, I hope," I said.

"Not now, but it almost was. He had an appendectomy yesterday," she said.

"Really. Well, I'm glad he's okay now."

"Would you like something, sir?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, Jack on the rocks. Oh, and not too many rocks," I said.

"Comin' up," she said. I watched her sashay down the length of the bar. She returned with the drink and set it in front of me smiling.

"Anything else?" she said. I stared at her too young face and decided to go for it. Why the hell not, I thought.

"Only if you can do heart transplants," I said. "The one I got is broken." She laughed.

"You?" she said. "I would have thought that you would be the one to break hearts." Now, I laughed.

"Well, thank you for that," I said. "The lift to my ego is well appreciated." She tendered me a quizzical smile, nodded, and headed off down the bar to do her duty.

Over the next two weeks I got to know Marty. Not well enough to call us friends, but we did seem to get along well enough; and, I thought she was making an effort to serve me a trifle better than most customers, though really that could have been wishful thinking on my part.

I'd learned she was thirty-five years old, had a string of failed relationships, never married, was rot gut poor, had two kids, had aborted a third, did part time bar work at three different places to make ends meet, and was desperately looking to hook up with some guy with money who was willing to overlook her baggage. Clearly my kind of woman, so I asked her out, so she said yes.

"Well, mister, tonight is my last shift here. Red's gonna be back in action and you guys can get back to tellin' each other lies," she said, laughing.

"Really," I said. "Say, Marty, we've kinda gotten to know each other pretty good over these past days. How would you like to go out to dinner with me one of these nights?" She looked at me, and I think her mouth was hanging open.

"You mean a date? With you?" she said. I thought she was going to laugh. I was a dozen years older than she was, three inches shorter than she was, and I had a good job. Well, one out of three was a winner. Right?"

"Yeah, never mind. I just thought… " I started.

"No, no. I'd love to. I just didn't think-never thought. I mean you're married…"

"Estranged. Look, I'm a lot older than you; I know that. And, you are way out of my league in a dozen ways; but, I'm a good guy, and I can afford to feed us. I just figured nothing ventured nothing gained, you know," I said.

"Like I said, yes; I will go out with you," she said. "And forget the older stuff. I've gone out with guys a lot older than you and had a ball. And, frankly, I could use a really good meal. You are planning on feeding me good-right?"

"Oh yeah," I said. "Oh yeah."

The evening was great, and, I got one helluva kiss when I took her home. Yeah, I know, just a kiss; but it was some kiss. Heck it was a beginning.

Over the next weeks Martina and I got to know each other even better. I found out all about her family back in Belize, and she got the short version of my history with my wife and our family situation. She seemed to take much more interest in me when she discovered that I had no family of my own. Go figure.

It was strange, I thought, here I knew all about her children and family in Belize, and it occurred to me that I knew more about them than I did about Gillian's, all of whom lived on the opposite coast, and none of whom I had ever met. Gillian as related did not get along with any of her living relatives for a number of reasons, and I had long ago learned not push finding out about them. At any rate, Martina did get along with hers; they were all but her whole life.

Martina had not been back to Belize in six years. As she lay beside me naked and with my cum leaking out of her, I decided to fix that little reality, the seeing of her family that is. I had the money, and she had the need.

"You wanna see your family?" I said.

"Yes, sure, but I don't have the money for a trip like that right now," she said. "But, I have plans to go next year. I'll have enough saved by then, and I'll be able to go."

"Can you take off from the job now if you wanted to?" I said. She looked at me kinda funny.

"Yes. I can. I just have to arrange it with the places I work, so that they don't get mad at me," she said.

"I'll send you. I can't go because of my job, but I can send you," I said. "I mean if that would be all right with you."

"What? You mean send me to Belize?" she said. "You'd do that for me?"

"Yes." She kissed me almost brutally.

The sex during the ensuing hour was taxing and wonderful. She did things with her mouth that should have been copyrighted. At any rate, a week later, she boarded the plane.

******

"Yes, he's actually found a chickee to play with," said Gillian. "Michael, I almost feel that I should try and save him from the heartache that he is certain to get out of his little affair." He smiled at her.

"Hey lover, I think that he's gotten a pretty large dose of that from you and me already. Yes, he's too old for her, if what you've said is true, but maybe he needs to get what he can out of his-affair-I mean to help him reestablish his ego. From what you've told me, and from what I know firsthand, I'm pretty sure he could use a little bit of, well, something," he said. She snickered.

"Maybe, but robbing the cradle isn't the best of paths to that end," she said.

"Gil, he's not exactly robbing the cradle. The woman is in her mid-thirties. He's forty-eight and in pretty good shape health-wise," he said.

"Well, I don't know. I just don't want to see him hurt again. I mean what we, or at least I've done to him; he doesn't need another hit to his ego, as you phrase it," she said.

"No, but it's kind of out of our hands in any event. He's an adult, Gillian. He can choose to play with whomever he wants. It's a risk for him, and he may be grasping at straws picking up a girl like her, but it is his choice, not yours, not mine," he said. "At any rate, we need to walk softly for now; I think that my Doris may be getting a bit suspicious. I don't want to do anything to push Herbert to doing something that might hurt the both of us. I do not need a divorce."

"Jesus, Michael, when all we were doing was chatting, we had no problems, but now…"

"Yeah, but I'm not hypocritical enough to wish we had not taken the extra step," he said. "That said, are you busy right at the moment?" he was leering.

She smirked. "As a matter of fact I'm free for the next little while. What did you have in mind?"

He came to her and slid his hands down her arms. She shivered as he leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips. He began unbuttoning her blouse. It fluttered to the floor. Her bra followed seconds later. He grasped her globes and gently massaged them as he gazed into her eyes.

"Feels good," she said. They kissed long and sensually. He pulled her down on top of him. She spread her legs wide actually straddling his body. His knee came up and pressed hard against her vulva.

"You gonna take me or wrestle me?" she said smiling at down at him. He rolled her over and pushed her panties south. She used her foot to push them further down and off.

"I'm going to take you," he said, "but we can wrestle later if you want. Heck, I might even let you win."

He knelt up momentarily pushing his pants down and freeing his cock. Lowering himself once again, he pushed into her and began seesawing in and out.

Minutes later they lay beside each other sweaty and breathing hard.

She was pensive, obviously so.

"Thinking of him?" he said.

"Yes."

"Gil, are you-comfortable with our situation. I mean, you know, we've talked. He could decide to come back to you someday. I mean it's a possibility. You know it, and I know it. This thing with, that other woman, that he's got going, is gonna end. I've seen her. She's not even in your league, younger, but way beneath you by any measure I know of," said Michael.

"You've seen her?" she said.

"Yes, I checked her out. Didn't talk to her. Just had a drink in the bar where she works. He wasn't around. She flirted with every other guy in the place, but didn't favor any particular one. Just kinda did her job and that was it," he said.

She stared at him. "So what's the hold she has over him?" said Gillian.

"She's pretty enough, probably pays attention to him, provides an anchor for him. He'll tire of her soon enough. For sure she's not going to be faithful to him," he said.

"What's in it for her, do you think?" she said.

"Money. She's a gold digger. She'll tap him for some bucks, and then screw him over. He's gonna be feelin' real low after that. That'll be your signal to step in and comfort him," said Michael.

"Really? You think so?" she said. She didn't really hear his response. She just smiled. It would be a waiting game. Not fun, but her confidence returned. Then, she frowned. Why did she care, really? Was it his money she herself was after? It sure as heck wasn't his dick.

They still hadn't divorced, and he still made the payments on the house and paid the utilities automatically every month; just as he always had. Still, he had made no attempt to contact her for the entire year they'd so far been apart, go figure. Nor had she him after the initial days, but the future…

Her Herbert wasn't rich, just had a really good job. Was she herself a gold digger, just like this bartender woman? No, she'd been with her Herbert since the beginning, when there were no big bucks, no travel perks, none of it. No, Gillian Miller just wanted her man back; back, but, accepting of her needs, of Michael.

Michael was wonderful in the sack, but nowhere near in Herbert's class when it came to being husband material. If they'd only had children, she and her Herbert she thought. Well, maybe she could still figure something out along those lines. The two of them were middle aged now, but by no means over the hill, And, even with Herb's low sperm count; well, there were other means in this modern era. Maybe when the time came, when that gold digger woman dumped him, as Michael seemed sure that she would. Yes! Maybe then.

******

I was kicking back at the bar as she danced with the third fella that had asked her in a row; well, she was beautiful. It was one of the several nights out each month, on average, that we shared.

Things weren't so bad for me anymore. Yeah, I'd lost the love of my life, but I was mostly over it. There were still moments, in the darkest of night, when everything was melancholy; but, I was dealing with it. Helping me deal with it was Martina; she was good for me.

I was a realist. Someone who looked like her, and so much younger than me, could not have been crazy about my exquisitely youthful and sexy body. I knew she saw me mostly as a support against her financial difficulties. And, in all fairness, I saw in her an exquisitely youthful and sexy woman with a killer body and a giving nature. I figured it was a fair trade.

Martina and I got along well. She was intelligent and could converse on a wide variety of topics. I did end up going shopping with her sometimes; she needed clothes and a lot of them-a couple of grand worth of them so far. But, it made her happy and I had the money; it was win win.

We got it on in bed most times that we did go out. Tonight would be one of those nights. She'd turned out to be sensitive and loving which kind of surprised me. I'd early on thought that she was going to be one of those tigresses that would blow out the walls with her screams of passion and her desire to be expansive and imaginative in bed. She was the exact opposite: tender, teasing, and gentle; it suited me.

I watched her sway teasingly as she headed back to our table; her dance partner in tow. "Herb, this is Terry, a very good dancer and a lawyer," she said. I stood and shook hands with the man.

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"Same here," he said. "Tina tells me that you're a financial analyst."

"That's right," I said. The man took a seat-that without having been invited to do so. Marty gave me a was-it-okay look, and I nodded in the affirmative.

We spent maybe half an hour talking about nothing and everything. I was actually getting a little bored, so I interrupted the confab to ask my girlfriend to dance. She seemed delighted and so we did.

"He's a nice guy," she said, as we toured the dance floor.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. We stayed out for two dances and when we returned, he was gone. Marty looked unhappy.

"Maybe we shouldn't have left him alone," she said.

"He wasn't with us babe. He just danced with you one time and socialized with us a bit. Did you expect him to do more, be more?" I said.

"No. I don't know. I just kinda liked him. He was interesting, I guess." For the first time since meeting Martina and dating her, I began to feel uncomfortable in our relationship, whatever that meant.

I took her home, and we necked a while in the car, but she pleaded an early rising for the next day, and that dashed any hope I had of getting any that night. I was disappointed, and a little-well-uncomfortable, as I said. I headed home. I needed to assess things.

Martina hadn't done anything untoward, and there had been other times when we didn't do it after a date. And, we didn't have anything official; hell, we weren't officially even going steady. But, somehow this time it was different. I didn't feel threatened by counselor Terry, but I did kinda get the feeling that he wanted to replace me in Matry's life. Well, we'd be seeing about that.

******

I didn't see Martina again for three weeks. Each time I called, I was hit with an excuse. At first I was a little disappointed, then concerned, then miffed. I stopped calling her. That was in the middle of the second week. At the end of the third week she called me. She said she wanted to talk to me. I knew what she was going to say, and I really didn't need to hear it, so I turned her down;

I figured it was the end of our relationship-such as it was. Replaced twice in little more than a year: not real good for the old ego. Whatever it was that I was lacking, I needed to figure it out, or, just stay single and aloof. What the hell, other guys did the singles thing and did okay.

At any rate, I was almost right. She was waiting for me when I got off work the day after our last contact. "Hi Herb. Please, can I have a word with you-please?" she said. I smiled.

"No need, Martina. I know what you're going to say, and it's okay. I'm just not interested in the melodrama," I said.

"But…"

"Martina, I know you're replacing me. Wanting to do it gently I'm sure. Anyway, just consider it done, and we'll just both get on with our lives. See yuh later." I just turned and walked off leaving her with her mouth hanging open.

Was I being childish? Maybe some would say so, but I disagree. I supposed Martina wanted to separate herself from me gently in order for her to feel better about herself. But, the fact is I didn't need the melodrama or the sad looks. I didn't want to hear the inevitable, "We can still be friends," speech. I'd had enough of such nonsense or its equivalent; and more of it I did not need. She and I'd had something going for a while, but it was ending; I knew it, so I just wanted to let it go. For once I was going to do it my way-sort of.

I would be seeing Martina, off and on over the next couple of years, but not really socially.

******

Talk about being in a blue funk. I was the poster boy for that description. No, I didn't hate Martina, nor really Gillian either. I hated my looks, my dick, my ignorance of how to hold on to my women. Taking stock, I realized, that though I'd been able to get plenty of dates between my breakup with Gillian and my relatively short affair with Martina, I wasn't able to get any of them to care enough for anything that resembled a long term relationship; well, until Martina, and that really wasn't all that long.

A couple of months after Marty and I were done, I came into the Red Barn; she was on duty. She was filling in for one of the other bartenders, not Red. Red was on duty too, and gave me a heads up when I took my usual seat at the end of the bar. I turned to see Marty heading back for the bar from the table area beyond the mini-dance floor; she hadn't seen me yet. I could have escaped, but the heck with it. I would just let her know that I didn't want to talk about the past: the break up with her had not been as traumatic as had the one with Gillian. And, I was the customer; she'd have to honor my request; or, so I figured.

"Herb!" she said, finally seeing me. "I didn't see…"

"Yeah, it's okay. I'm just a customer. No reminiscing, okay?' I said. I gave her an I-mean-it look.

"Sure, okay," she said. "It's good to see you."

"Thanks. A martini if you've got one lying around," I said.

"Coming right up," she said. Red was eyeing the exchange. He gave me an approving thumbs up.

Relaxing over the next hour or so I exchanged lies with some of the regulars. Martina tendered me an occasional smile, refilled my martini when I raised my hand, and brought me a small bowl of pretzels at some point. Around 9:00PM I downed the last of my second drink, waved to Red, nodded in Martina's direction, and left.

Over the next few months, that pretty much set the tone for my existence, that is my drinking and socializing existence. Occasionally, I would hook up with a woman, and we'd leave together. Martina as it turned out filled in at the Red Barn maybe a few days every month now for this or that sick-out, vacation, weekend off for the regular help. I don't know what she did the rest of the month or how her romance with the lawyer was going-or if it was going-but she and I got along okay.

About three months after first seeing Martina again at the Red Barn, she was again on duty. I'd just ordered my second when a striking woman took the stool next to mine. Five-five, maybe one-ten, blond, D-cups, the bluest eyes I'd seen in forever, and a porcelain complexion that should have been gracing magazine covers. Her clothes: a beige midi with matching blouse and stilettos gave her an air of someone who was used to being in charge.

I looked down the length of the bar. Of the twenty stools situated around its circular span, only three were occupied at that moment, That the woman had opted for the one next mine was some small surprise. Still, not being a complete doofus; I had to figure she was wanting to talk to me. The first thing that entered my head was that she was a prostie looking to see if she could help a poor soul out of his obvious malaise. But, no, this woman wasn't a prostie, or, if she was, she was way out of my price range. The mystery was soon solved.

"Hello, Herb," she said. "You don't mind be calling you Herb do you?" I stared at her.

"No, I suppose not. But-do I know you?" I said. I was certain that I didn't.

"No, not exactly. You know my husband, I believe," she said.

"You're married. You have a husband who lets you out in public-alone. He must be crazy," I said. She smiled.

"Thanks, I think," she said. "But, frankly, I'm a big girl and I do what I want when I want. But, again, thanks for the compliment."

"You're certainly welcome," I said. "What can I do for you? You need a husband, a slave, all of the above?" She laughed, and so did I.

"No, no, not at the moment," she said, letting me down easy.

"Okay, I'll never get over my disappointment, but what is, is, I guess."

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Doris Waring," she said. She smiled at the expression that must have immediately shrouded my countenance.

"Oh," I said.

"Yes, well, I've just discovered that my hubby, Michael, has been fucking your wife. Or put another way, cheating on me, well, us actually," she said. I nodded, my mood darkened perceptibly.

"I know. He broke us up, me and my wife," I said.

"I'm going to be divorcing him. I came to ask if you would be amenable to testifying to what he did to you and your marriage. I'm going after the asshole, Herb, big time. How about it? Want to join me in driving the proverbial sword through the masher's heart-and wallet," she said.

I looked her in the eye. I was quiet for a moment. "Yes," I said, finally. I well knew if I did what she was asking me that any chance for Gillian and I ever getting back together were going to be dead. But it was going on two years now, and I had to let go of those oh so secret dreams-hopes. It was time to finally do battle with the asshole and my traitorous wife, get a little payback.

"Okay, then," she said. She put out her hand for me to shake, and I did.

"Herb, your soon to be ex is going to get burned in this little show too; you do realize that? This is going to be a scorched earth campaign. I am more than a little pissed about what he's done to me, and to you of course." I nodded.

"Yes, I understand," I said. Looking at the woman seated next to me, I knew that she was intending to castrate mister Waring and in the doing to consign Gillian to a cloistered nunnery for the duration. Doris Waring was beautiful, but she had more in common with Hippolyta than with Helen of Troy; and I knew for damn sure that Michael Waring was no Achilles. No indeed, mister Waring was in for a very long day, and that very soon.

******

The parking lot in front of Mobile-Phone Inc. is tree shaded on the western side making it the parking area of choice for the workers, protecting their cars as it did, from the afternoon sun. Michael Waring had pulled in alongside Gillian Miller's Buick and was just getting out of his car to greet his girlfriend when a man in a cheap suit approached them and smiled. "You're both served," he said.

"Huh? What?" said Gillian.

"It's all in the envelope," said the courier.

The two servees wasted no time finding out what was what. "She's divorcing me," said Michael. "Your bastard husband must have tipped her."

"She suing me too," said Gillian. "But-I don't believe that Herb did this to us. He's hurt, and probably still angry. But, if he's waited this long to do anything-well-why now? It makes no sense. No, this is your wife on her own; I'm sure of it."

"Well, whatever. But this is bad. Doris is the money in our relationship. I work as a consultant on projects she assigns me. If she's divorcing me, it means I'm also fired. Put another way I'm unemployed and broke, just like that." He'd paled in the preceding minutes to a significant degree.

"But, one good thing," he said.

"Pray tell," said Gillian.

"If she's divorcing me; then, that leaves it clear for you to finally get free of Herbert. Finally, we, you and I, can be together," he said. She gave him a look.

"I… " she started.

"Gil, it's been almost two years. Sure he still pays the rent, but you make enough, and I will get another job in short order, and we can get on with being happy. Whaddya say?" he said.

"Michael-I-I'll have to think about it. I love you, but I think we need to wait to see how things are after the dust clears. Okay?" He nodded.

"Okay, but I've been in love with you since the beginning. I see this as an opportunity for the two of us to actually be happy, Gil. I really do." She smiled and it warmed him a little. But, what he couldn't see was the bits of doubt that had long hounded her. How had he known where she worked? Why had he chased down Martina and watched her at work? And, there were other things, things that Herbert had warned her were going to happen, and some of them had. Still, she did love him, not the same as she had and still did love her Herb, but she did love him. Maybe she owed it to him to marry him now. Maybe too, she owed it to her Herb to set him free. She had to think. Yes, she would be thinking long and hard about her decision, and she was well aware that time was not her ally.

******

I had been notified that the hearing would be on Tuesday, the ninth. I'd never been to one before, but I was sure that this one was likely pretty routine, pretty usual, if that was the way to phrase it.

I noted that it was starting out as a tense affair.

The two sides in the dispute occupied separate sides of the courtroom. On the one side was Doris, behind whom her friends and relatives had gathered in numbers and were in the process of staring down her cheating spouse and the seven friends he'd managed to convince to back him in his defense.

For my part, I was somewhat uncomfortable. Gillian had brought this on herself, and now I was going to be a party to making her pay. Rationally, I knew she deserved it, but I was still uncomfortable. I guess husbands always feel the need to protect their women even when the women piss on them. Helluva thing.

Seated immediately behind Michael in the gallery was Gillian. She was nervous and clearly upset that her husband, me, occupied a pew immediately behind her boyfriend's soon-to-be ex. She was actually angry that I would be there. If I testified, I would be testifying that she had committed adultery with the respondent. But, she hadn't, not in her mind, done any such thing; she just hadn't been able to convince her good man that any such was true.

The judge having taken his place on the dais, called things to order and then the witnesses began their parade of testimony. The missus had hired a private detective and the evidence he and his operatives had garnered put the lie to every denial the respondent made. He was toast halfway through the proceedings.

My testimony wasn't really necessary, but it put the icing on the cake as far as any advantage to Doris Waring was concerned.

"So, mister Miller," said his honor, addressing me as I sat in the dock. "Do you have firsthand knowledge of the alleged adultery?"

"Yes, your honor, I caught them in my, my wife's and mine, marital bed. It was the final straw."

"Yet you have not seen fit to divorce your wife. And, it has also been alleged, that you continue to pay the rent on your former residence and the utilities as well, although you no longer reside there. Are these things true things?"

"Yes, your honor," I said.

"Your reasons, mister Miller?"

I spread my hands in an I-don't-know gesture. "I don't know, your honor, habit I guess."

"Hmm, yes, habit. All right, you may step down, mister Miller." I was sure his honor thought me a fool.

Gillian was never called. I think that Doris, already certain of totally screwing her husband, had given her lawyer orders to forego challenging her. I think she was throwing me a crumb by not calling her which would have led to my having to hear my wife belittle me or contradict me. I appreciated her forbearance.

"Well, we won," said Doris, smiling outside the courtroom, "not that there was ever any doubt. The asshole screwed me over, now he can beg for his bread." I nodded. A minute later the cheaters exited and passed by us. I got a troubled look from Gillian, but she said nothing.

******

It was some weeks later that I got a communication from my most recent ex-squeeze, Martina. It was an invitation to her wedding to lawyer and fiancé, Terry Underwood. I got a chuckle out of that one. I decided to accept. She and I had always gotten on good. True, I had been a bit upset with getting dumped by her, but I really had no right to be. And, she'd always treated me with respect and affection.

The day of the wedding broke bright and sunny. Fitting, it seemed to me, for such a happy event. Passing through the reception line, I got myself one ferocious lip bruising kiss from the bride and a more than hearty handshake from her new hubby; such set the tone for the rest of the day. After the mandatory speeches, dances, flower heaving and what all; the groom pulled me aside.

"No hard feelings, I mean me stealing your girlfriend and marrying her," he said, smiling.

"None. Envy yes, hard feelings no," I said. I think my smile was bigger than his. We talked for some minutes before some of his relatives-of which he had many-hijacked him. The partying went on into the night. I was certain the next day was going to be a painful experience for me. In that I proved to be more than correct.

******

In the several months following Martina's wedding to Terry, things settled down. I worked, I kept my seat warm at the Red Barn, and I dated a little. As far as the dating went, I didn't hook up with any particular female, and as far as getting' any was concerned, it wasn't happenin'.

"Red, pour this old man a last one, will yuh." I said. I'd been sittin in my usual spot at the end of the bar, and I was getting' ready for my evening swan song.

"Commin' up sport," he said. "So, Herb, how yuh doin' feelin'? You in any condition to drive?"

"Good, good, I guess. And yes, I'm okay to drive. I'm just tryin' to get my shit together, and I've been lookin' for some female company, if you know what I mean; but so far no dice on the second part," I said.

"Yeah, well your luck will change; it always does," he said. "I speak from experience."

"Well, I sure hope so. Anyway, after this last one here, I'm gonna be hittin' the road. Got a big day at the shop tomorrow."

"Yeah, well good. I want somebody else besides me to be workin' hard," he snorted.

******

I was in a mellow mood as I drove home. Hitting the hay was my number one priority. Catherine Zeta Jones couldn't have induced me to stay up. Well, that was the case until she showed up at my door.

No, not Catherine Zeta Jones, Gillian!

I was just pulling on my underpants, after making a deposit to my porcelain account, when I heard a knock at the door. It was after 10:00PM. I swore, and headed for the door to answer it.

Opening the damn thing I was stopped cold. "Gillian!"

"Yes, Herb, it's definitely me. May I come in?" she said. I stood aside to let her pass.

"Not that it's not a wonderful surprise, Mrs. Miller, it is still Mrs. Miller isn't it? Though I hear you are figuring on divorcing me and marrying the asshole, right? Anyway, what are you doing here?" I said. I wasn't being too sarcastic. She sighed.

"Herb, he's not an asshole-okay? Anyway, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, I mean-a—divorce. Would that be okay?"

"No need on my account, Gillian, we haven't been man and wife in any real sense in a long time. Oh, and never doubt it: to me he will always be mister asshole," she gave me a frustrated look. "Nevertheless, if you feel the need… " I motioned her to have a seat on the couch. She did.

She tendered me a wan smile. "Well, I guess we've come to the actual end of the road," she said. I shrugged. "Herb, I want to say that my life with you was good. We had a lot of wonderful times, and, except for never having any babies; well, I just wanted to say thank you for the good times and all of the love I felt in our time together. We both fell silent for a moment. I could feel myself tearing up; well, it was an emotional moment.

"Yeah, I guess, Gillian. I do wish, well, I wish things had worked out differently. For the record I loved you-truly. Hell, I still do, just not enough to share you with… " I stopped short of calling him names; it wasn't the right time for cussing.

"Rather than having you served, Herb, would you prefer to go to my lawyer's office and just sign the papers there. I mean, well I mean, I want this to be as painless as I can make it for us, for the both of us. I still love you too in case it matters," she said.

"Matter? It does and it doesn't, I guess. But, to answer your question, yes, I will go to your lawyer's office and take care of things.

"Gillian, I guess I have to ask: will there be any surprises for me when I get there?" She gave me a horrified look.

"No! My God no!" she said. "Just the divorce, nothing else!" she said. "I wouldn't try to hurt you for anything, Herb, really. I mean really. You have to believe me." I waved her off.

"I do believe you, Gil. But, I did have to ask the question. I still trust you, in those ways, I just don't trust him.

"Gil, the time is going to come when he's gonna hurt you. I hate to say it, but I know it. When he does, well, I'll be around," I said.

"Herb, I know you mean well, but Michael is not that kind of guy. Really. I'll be fine. But, I thank you for your concern. I really do. I know you're still there for me." I just nodded. There'd be no convincing her; the black hat had won the damsel; the good guy would be riding off into the sunset-alone.

"Okay, Gil, whatever you say." We talked for a few more minutes, we rose from our seats, she gave me a hug, and then she was gone.

******

The divorce was final seven months to the day of Gil's visit to me. I was free, and lonely, and busy. Work-work-work, that was my way of dealing with, well, with life. For the most part it worked for me. There were melancholy moments, of course. I mean I'd lost the love of my life. I wondered if Gil had any of those moments.

I heard through the grapevine that she'd married him but two months after the divorce was final. It hurt. I'd known it was going to happen, but it still hurt, and that a lot. God how I hated that man; I mean I viscerally hated him.

******

I didn't hear anything substantial about Gillian for a long time, maybe a year and a half. Then, I did.

"Yeah," said Red. They came in here a few nights ago. They were drunk, the both of them, and loud. Looked to me like their marriage was about to implode. I mean, when a couple gets to the calling each other names stage in less than two years of bein' hitched; well, it don't take no genius to figure out that they ain't gonna last."

"Names?" I said.

"Yeah, she was calling him cheater, liar, asshole, worse," he said.

I was remembering what I'd warned her about before the divorce. Remembering how I just knew that he was going to be cheating on her. I remembered too how she'd pooh-pooh'd the idea. Well the chickens had finally come home to roost.

"Yeah, well, I figured something like that was going to happen," I said.

"Are you going to do anything about it?" he said.

"Me! Why would I. She didn't care about me enough to hang with me instead of him. And, now that what he really is has become clear, I should be the one to pick up the pieces? Not hardly," I said.

"Hmm," he said, heading off down the bar.

******

I was getting ready to go out. I'd found that bar hopping was good for the memory loss I was doing my level best to cultivate. After almost nine months of singlehood, and not a single piece of ass during that whole time, I was horny, sad, and thirsty. I was starting to back out the driveway when a car pulled in behind me blocking my exit.

I got out and strode toward the driver's door of the other car. "What the fuck, asshole," I said to the darkly tinted window. The driver rolled it down.

"Sorry, Herb," said Gillian.

"Gillian! What the fuck are you doing here? I'm on my way out," She suddenly broke down and began sobbing. Women!

"What do you need now, Gillian? I really was on my way out, as you can no doubt see," I said.

"I need help, Herb. I need help bad. Will you help me, Herb?" she cried. I sighed. I motioned her to get out of the car and come into the house.

She sat herself down at the dinette table and sniffled. I let her calm herself down. She'd tell me when she was ready; I had no doubt about that. I figured it had to do with the asshole; had to, but what exactly was still a question.

"I'm pregnant, Herb. I'm going to have a baby," she said. All of a sudden I had the chills. I couldn't immediately find any words to say. I guess I was staring.

"Herb?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Herb he wants me to get an abortion. But, I can't; I just can't. I want to keep the baby. But he wants me to kill it, to kill the baby. I can't do it, Herb," she sobbed.

I went to her and knelt down in front of her. "Gil, it's okay. I told you I'd be here for you, and I will be; I am." She continued to sob, then whimper, then just occasionally shudder. I moved her to the couch in the front room, and sat with her. She fell asleep on my chest. I dared not move, and soon I was sleeping too.

******

Doris Waring had economically raped Michael Waring for his screwing around on her. Her dad and all but neutered him in the divorce, and had even threatened to pursue criminal action against him if he so much as farted in the neighborhood that used to be his home.

The bad news for Michael was that despite what he'd at the time considered reasonably precautions, he'd managed to get Gillian pregers. Not in itself a disaster, more of an inconvenience, abortions were routine in this day and age, as he had assured her. But, she bitch wouldn't go for it.

Complicating matters was that she had caught him with Sandy. That had not been good. Sandy was fine for a roll in the hay, but for little else. Gillian Miller, on the hand, was not only beautiful, a good fuck, and a reasonably intelligent female; she also worked and paid all of their bills; well, the one's her ex didn't pay. He had to get her back on his side, but the doing of that was proving more difficult than usually had been his experience.

He took a deep breath and rapped on the other man's door.

"Michael Waring!" I said. "I don't wanna seem rude, but what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see Gillian. Look, I know you hate me, but I love her," he said.

"Well, it ain't happening, Mr. Waring. You shot your wad, blew your chance, bet on the wrong horse. Put another way, you fucked up. I hope I'm not being unnecessarily vague," I said. "But, you're right on one count, I do absolutely hate you!"

"I know she's here. Can I have a word with her. I opened the door wide enough so he could see into the room. She was standing right behind me.

"Go away, Michael. I'm not getting an abortion, and I am going to do my very best to try and prove to my-ex-husband-how sorry I am that I screwed up. You're history, Michael, and unmourned history at that," she said.

"Look. if you want to keep the baby that bad, I'm up for it. I've thought it over, and I realize I was wrong. Just let's-go somewhere where we can have a cup of coffee and talk. Okay? Just a cup of coffee," he said.

"Just a cup of coffee?" she said.

"Yes, just coffee," he said.

"I remember the first time ever we had coffee together. You remember that time?" she said. "You know at Denny's I think it was?" She smiled.

"Of course," he said. He was smiling now. I'm sure he thought that he was making headway.

She lost the smile. "That cup of coffee cost me three years of my life. I never want to see you again. I mean no matter what. Got it! Find someone else to screw up the life of; I'm no longer in the market!" She turned and walked back into the house. The house that had been hers but a few years before and if there was a God, would be again.

******

We never heard from Michael Waring again, but we did hear from Doris Waring. She is a regular at our place now, her and her new beau. A nice fellow, whose brother was also a regular at our place-particularly whenever we had a barbecue. Cal Underwood, brother of Terry my good friend, was also a lawyer. Well, you had to know that something like this was gonna happen.

So what about me and Gil? Well we're living together. Gonna marry again? Maybe. The jury's still out.

She had the baby three weeks ago. Terry handled the adoption papers that cut the biological father out of the picture. Turned out good 'ole Michael wanted to be payin' child support even less than he wanted to have the baby per se. It was a no brainer for him, and maybe for me too. On another note…

It also turned out that Gillian finally got the answer to a question that had been nagging at her almost since she'd first met Michael. How had he known that she worked at Mobile-Phone? The answer, like so many others, had actually been kinda simple. He'd been in their thrift store at a time when Gillian had also been there troubleshooting a problem with their customer handouts. She'd left a stack of business cards for customers to take with them for future reference; Michael had scarfed one of them. Helluva note.

-----------------------------

   Series:Hard Luck Harlan Lawton
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:The man just can't seem to catch a break.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/62798/hard-luck-harlan-lawton
Published:2010-01-17
"Harlan, you don't mind do you. The children do love to be with you," she said. I looked at my wife. She was dressed to kill, but it, her efforts to kill, were not for me; she was planning on leaving me home again-to watch the kids, her sister's kids. The two women were going out to paint the town-presumably red.

No news there, it had been happening a lot lately, lately being the last several years. Except for the inevitable family gatherings, Jennifer and I had gone almost nowhere together as a couple over that period. It rankled, a lot, but she didn't exactly give me a choice. And, being the pussywhipped wimp that I was, I let her get away with it.

I'm a retired army first sergeant-twenty years active. She's an executive secretary making pretty sizable bucks working for an ad agency in town-the town being Houston, forty-five minutes from our home in the burbs. We are both forty-seven, as this story begins, and still socially active; well, she's socially active; I'm an active baby sitter and all around gofer.

Like I said, my place in this household rankles. Jenny never wants to go out with me, unless you count the two or three movies a year that she deigns to let me escort her to. I had begun to think that maybe she was ashamed of me; the theaters were dark, so she had minimum exposure to criticism being out with someone who looked like me.

Okay, me? Five-seven, one-seventy-five, thinning hair, but not actually ugly. But, not handsome either. I used to be able to dance, but I know I had to be a bit rusty now since it had been so long since I've been given the opportunity. Oh, and her? Five-nine, one-twenty-five, beautiful long auburn hair, ass and tits that are a threat to traffic. Jen is not actually movie star beautiful in the face, but she is far from unlovely. Okay, and yeah, she's taller than me; well, so the fuck what.

According to her and her sister, Marie, Marie, Wills, they don't invite me because I didn't like the kinds of places that they generally frequented. She was right about that. Sawdust joints filled with wannabe cowboys, rock clubs that I long suspected of selling more drugs than beer, and disco dance halls where the clothes made the man just didn't do it for me. A hit to my ego them always leaving me behind? You bet. Ready to do something about it? I'm getting to that point.

Marie is part of the problem. Divorced, snooty, and an all around party girl; she couldn't imagine a Saturday night without her wing-woman. But, whereas she couldn't even imagine having me tag along with the them; she was more than happy with me in the role of baby sitter. Helluva thing.

I like jazz clubs and soft music and classic cocktails rather than the yellow pepsi her circle of friends seemed to prefer. I'd gotten, what I see as my high class tastes, from my dad, a retired Navy lieutenant commander, thirty years in. He'd actually been a bandleader in the Navy. He could play several instruments and had seen to it that I had an excellent musical education since I wasn't interested in college. My instrument of choice was the piano; I was pretty good.

The kids always want me to play for them when I'm sitting. It's about the only time, apart from Christmas with the family, that I have an audience. I see the kids, Jenna (7) and Willy (8), as a definite upside even though they are not my kids per se. Jenny had not wanted kids; I did, so we didn't have any; put another way, we do what Jennifer Ann wants. Like I say, my place in the household rankles, and I have for a while been close to making a move; I'm just not hadn't been sure what kind of move. Am I the village wimp? I guess, when it comes to my wife, I am. I love Jenny, and to be fair she always makes it a point to tell me she loves me. But, saying it and showing it are two entirely different things. Sex between us is okay, maybe once or twice weekly; but it isn't anything outrageously kinky or exciting.

I stood there in front of her. She was waiting for an answer. It came to me

"Yes," I said.

"Yes what? She said.

"Yes, I mind being a baby sitter again. Frankly, Jennifer, I am tired of being left out and never being allowed to go anywhere with you," I said. She looked at me funny. I had never said no to her for anything. She was obviously having processing this new information.

"Harlan, why didn't you say something before. You knew that Marie and I were planning to go out tonight. It's Saturday night; we always go out Saturday nights," she said.

"Yes, and always without me," I said. "Don't you think that that's kind of a weird situation for a husband and wife to be in?" I said.

"Harlan, look, sit with the kids tonight, and we can talk about this tomorrow, okay? You can't just throw a monkey wrench into other people's plans at the last moment like this. It isn't fair!" she said.

I smiled. "Isn't fair. I have plans of my own tonight. I'm headin' out. You do what you want, but I'm leaving now. Have a nice time with the kids; they really are fun you know," I said.

"Wha… " She was speechless as she watched me walked out the door."

I'd had no plans, but then the military had taught me to improvise. I headed for the nearest bar. Richard's bar and Grill was the best bar in Houston as far as I was concerned. I had been there a hundred times at least, though not lately. Richard's was frequented mostly by true adults like myself; unlike the kinds of places my wife and her sister liked to go to where the clientele always seemed to be around twelve years old.

Richard's place sported an ancient piano, but one in excellent tune, and an equally ancient piano player who knew a lot of tunes. The music was mostly rhythm and blues, but some jazz if the clientele was interested enough to ask for it. The player's name was Sam, if you can believe it. And yes, Richard, the owner, was mostly referred to as Rick. Go figure.

I mounted a bar stool near the end of the bar furthest from the door. I looked around. It was still early. The place was maybe a quarter full, but I knew it would fill up pretty quick after 9:00. I smirked my satisfaction that I had had the huevos to stand up to Jennifer and leave her having to figure out what to do about the babysitting situation.

Sam began playing some romantic stuff and a few couples got up to dance. I looked around for a likely partner, saw one, and left my martini sitting on the bar as I went over to her and asked her to dance.

"Care to dance," I said to the cute maybe thirty-something blond. She looked me up and down.

"Uh-not right now," she said. I did my best not to sound desperate, but I'm sure my face must have been bright crimson at hearing her reject me.

"Oh, okay. Sorry," I said. I turned and walked away. Over the next hour and half, I asked three other women, more or less in my age bracket, to dance; I was turned down by all of them. My luck was apparently gonna be pure shit tonight, I thought.

I had been to Richard's dozens of times, but I had never asked any of the women there to dance before; this was a wakeup call for me. What was wrong with me? Was I chopped liver as the saying goes? Before, it had always just been a few drinks and some light conversation with the barkeeps or other customers seated at the bar. Now that I wanted to dance my batting average was nada. Maybe my wife and her sister knew something I didn't. I know I didn't have bad breath, or so I assumed. Looking around at the other patrons, I deduced that I was dressed okay. So what was wrong with me?

I paid the bill and left before the place got really full. Okay, yes, I was humiliated.

It was only about half past eight. I didn't want to go home. Especially not with my tail between my legs. If Jen were there, I would be catching a busload of heat; right now, I didn't need any of that. I wondered if in fact she were there, at home? It'd been around 6:30 when I'd left her; she could have gotten the neighbors kid, Rhonda, to sit if the teenager hadn't had a date herself. An idea came to me. I'd know soon enough about that, I thought, that is about whether she had gone out or not.

As bad as my luck had been tonight, I wondered about Jenny's luck. If she had gone out with Marie where would they have gone? Her favorite place, I knew, was the Hard Hat. It was across town, but I could get there in half an hour. If she had gotten a sitter, she might be there having the time of her life by now-and probably dissing me for not being cooperative. I smiled to myself. Would she be glad to see me? I was maybe about to find out.

I pulled into the parking lot and parked in the rear. My luck, good or bad was holding, Marie's car was parked two rows up from where I'd pulled in. I knew her plate number by heart, and I recognized it before I even got close. Was she alone or did she have my wife with her. I froze.

Just as I got close to Marie's car two naked feet planted themselves on the rear side window. The sounds of fucking were audible even with the windows closed. Marie had been married to a good man, Cass Wills. I doubted that Cass had come back to fuck his ex-wife in a bar's parking lot. I moved closer to the car. I heard the woman screech. It wasn't Marie; it was Jennifer. My heart sank. My marriage was over; that was a fact. I just had one thing left to do.

I Pulled my cell phone, went up to the car window, and began to shoot pictures. They noticed and began scrambling. One shot got their faces as well as their half naked bodies. I heard Jenny's audible, "no!" The window got rolled down by a speechless drugstore cowboy; I looked down at the two of them. In a calm voice, I just told her to not come home early; I wanted a little time to pack up my stuff. Head down, a hang dog look no doubt painting my features, I walked away. A moment later she almost jumped out of the car pulling her dress down over her nakedness as she did so. She ran after me and grabbed me by the arm.

"Harlan, please, give me a chance," she pleaded.

"I'm in the way, Jen," I said. "I guess I've been in the way for years. You'll be free now. We're done." She dropped her hand and watched me walk away.

"Harlan, I need you," were her parting words to me. ****** She at least had the decency to leave me enough time to clear out. Either that or she went back to doing what she'd been doing, but I doubted that.

The babysitter was surprised to see me early and I assured her that she should stay and wait for Jen and her sister. It took me about a half hour to put together the stuff I needed: clothes, bathroom gear, and some other odds and ends and papers. Two suitcases filled the bill.

The car loaded, I sat in the driver's seat for a moment and looked at the house that had been ours for years and now no longer was. I was sad, very sad. I really had loved the woman; hey, probably always would; I mean twenty-one years of marriage; one doesn't get over an investment like that without shedding a few tears.

I found me a local motor lodge, paid for a week, and settled in. I set up my laptop, plugged in my aircard, and checked my savings account. Not too shabby, I thought; I had enough to hold me until I decided what to do. She had her own accounts and I had my own; that arrangement worked for me now.

Divorce? Yeah, I guessed that that would be the way to go; it's what I'd just told her, but was I sure? We'd likely have to sell the house to split the proceeds. Alimony? I smiled; she made twice my retirement money. If anyone had to pay, she would. Would I take it? I honestly didn't know.

She tried to call me several times on the cell over the next few days, so I went to the phone company and had my number changed. I would talk to her at some point, I told myself. But, for the moment the wounds were still too raw. ******

I filed for divorce a few days later. My wife didn't contest it. She did ask for a final meeting though. Ah me, the inevitable final meeting.

The meeting was held at a restaurant we had favored while we were still a young a couple: The Shadows Inn. There were to be no lawyers, just us; kinda the period on the sentence metaphorically speaking. I was early; she was late. I'd had a couple for martinis by the time she finally got there; I counted that as a good thing.

"Sorry, I'm late, Harlan, really," she said, taking a seat across from me. "How have you been?"

"Well, let's see: broken heart, no home to call my own, a shit load of humiliation, and a soon to be ex-wife who betrayed me and played me for a sucker for years. And, she's even late for our final meeting together as husband and wife. So, to answer your question, Jennifer, I'm feeling fucking wonderful." She was startled by the intensity of my sarcasm.

"Harlan. I apologized for being late. And as for all of the rest, I was a shit. I am so very, very sorry for what I've done to you. You never deserved any of it. For me it was never about you…"

"Yes it was, Jennifer. It had to be about me. You wanted someone, or someones, taller and better looking than me and you went out and found them. It was very much about me or rather what little I had to offer.

"Let me apologize to you, Jen, for being less of a man than I needed to be for a woman of your class," I said. "Clearly marrying you was a mistake; you were obviously way out of my league." I said this last a little less sarcastically than I had my first words.

"My God, I had no idea the depth of the hurt I was putting you through. I will never forgive myself," she said. "But, as for you not being enough of a man for me, forget it; you were more than enough man for me, Harlan, or for any woman. I love you even now. If you were to stop the divorce, I would spend the rest of my life proving my love for you, Harlan." She looked hopefully at me.

"Can't trust you anymore, Jen. I still adore you. You're everything any man could want. Whoever you hook up with after this; well, I wish him and you both well," I said. "You don't hate me?" she said.

"No, I don't hate anyone, Jennifer, especially not you. I'm disappointed and hurt, as you said, but there is no hate in me."

We ate and carried on light conversation for the next hour. Finally it was time to leave.

"Harlan, please keep in touch. It's going to be hard for me at first not having you around," she said.

"Yeah to baby sit," I said, laughing. Her face darkened.

"Harlan-"

"Sorry, Jen, that was a cheap shot." Even though it's probably true, I thought. She tendered me a slight smile. "Say hello to Marie for me; I did love the babies." ******

The divorce was uncontested and easy. Three months after our final meeting at the restaurant it was over. I was alone. I wasn't sure about her.

The terms of the divorce had Jennifer paying me $500 monthly for the next two years. Not a lot, but it was something. We did sell the house, and each of us got enough for a down payment on a new place which I wasn't ready to lock myself into yet. We split the personal stuff amicably and prepared to get on with our lives. ******

The days after the divorce for me were-well boring. My uninspiring, nothing little digs, a rented apartment at the time, and my "no" job situation left me with a lot of time to think. But, my thinking, such as it was, was disjointed and without direction. I needed to get my miserable, now forty-eight year old, act together and start the long road back toward some kind of normalcy.

My first order of business was to get myself a job. I didn't need the money, really, but I needed to be occupied with something; I needed to be up and doing. Without a woman, retirement sucked, and that in technicolor!

I did get myself off occasionally, however, massage parlors and the occasional paid escort took care of my most basic needs. They were anonymous, made no demands, and really weren't all that expensive. It worked for me.

A search for a job that would suit me came to an unexpected end three days into it, the search that is. Sam, the pianist at Richard's retired. Mr. Campbell, Richard, was looking for a replacement. Minimum wage plus tips. Well, the tips could be as much as a $100 a night, I was told. But, I wasn't in it for the money; I just needed something to do; playing the piano was something I loved to do, and I was skilled at it. Heck the customers loved me. Things were looking up, or so I thought. ******

I had been on the job, and making fairly good tips, for almost a year, when I met her. Sylvia Moore, was pretty, fortyish, and sexy.

She'd actually had the audacity to put money in the jukebox "while" I was playing. I looked over at her and was both angry and intrigued. Some of the patrons also looked at her wondering what the heck she was doing. She looked around at them, smiled, and said to all within hearing, "I just want to dance with the music man." There were a few guffaws and some nervous laughter from the crowd as she came up to me.

"You wouldn't turn me down after I made a move like that, would you?" she said. I stared at her.

"Huh?" I said. She giggled.

"You wanna dance with me," she said. I nodded. I don't think I was altogether with it at that point. She kinda led me out onto the dance floor and we-well-danced, and that pretty close.

Sylvia claimed to be a retired secretary. She had blond hair and a near perfect complexion. A little paunchy in the middle, but great looking tits and ass. We started off a little tentative, well I did, she, on the other hand, was totally in control of herself.

Some four minutes later as the song ended, we'd made a date for the following night. We danced some more between sets; she was captivating. ******

I was off; it was Sunday evening. I picked her up at her place: a upscale condo complex downtown. I was early.

"Anxious are we?" she said, as we walked to the car. I snickered.

"Not anxious, desperate," I said.

"Hmm, I like desperate men," she said, as I helped her into the car.

For some reason I knew not of-maybe something Freudian-we ended up at the Hard Hat. I hadn't been there since that fateful night, seemingly, so long ago.

We'd spent a good hour at the bar drinking waiting for an open table, which was cool. I wanted to talk more than I wanted to eat. Finally we were seated and were half way through our meal, and in my case my third martini, when they walked in: Jennifer and her escort. He was at least six-five and very handsome and, I thought, at least ten years younger than Jen. All of the old feelings came back to haunt me. Sylvia noticed. She also noticed who had caused it.

"Someone you know?" she said.

"Yes, the woman. She's my ex," I said.

"Oh my. Are you okay? You look upset." She said.

"Truthfully? No, I'm not all right. The whole thing still bugs me," I said. "Would you mind if we went somewhere else?" I said.

"No, of course not," she said.

I signaled for the waitress. I handed her a fifty and we began to make our way out, but Jennifer and mister whoever were too near the door for us not to be noticed.

"Harlan! I didn't see… " started Jennifer.

"Hi, Jen, we were just leaving; have a nice evening," I said, helping Sylvia with her coat. The man with Jennifer looked perplexed-at first-then amused. He could see something was going on, but of course he had no clue, at least I don't think he did. I waved an "in a hurry" goodbye, and we left.

We got the car and were on the road in a trice. "My luck to run into her and one of her boyfriends," I said to Sylvia by way of a backhanded apology.

"No problem, I broke up with my partner just a little while back myself, as I mentioned yesterday," she said. "It takes time to get over things like that, if one ever can."

"Yeah, I can relate," I said.

"It's only been a day, Harlan, but I think we need to comfort each other. What do you think?" she said.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Oh yeah."

At her apartment, I plunked down on the sofa. All I could think of was Jennifer. I was with a nice looking woman who cared about me, and I was thinking of my ex-wife; helluva deal.

"Drink?" she said.

"Yes, something strong. Anything strong," I said. She disappeared into her kitchen. She reemerged three minutes later with two, as it turned out, well built martinis.

"You okay?" she said.

"Better, I guess," I said. "It's tough you know. I mean you love someone so long and then… " I couldn't think of what else to say. "Yes, I'm familiar," she said. "Uh-Harlan?"

"Hmm?" I said, as I downed the drink.

"There's something you have to know," she said.

"What Sylvia? I hope it isn't that you have some stud boyfriend. I mean, you're a good looking girl, and we've only known each other for a day or so, but…"

"No, no, nothing like that. It's something else." I waited.

"Okay," I said, finally.

"Harlan-oh this is hard," I just waited. "Harlan, I'm not what you think. Harlan, I'm a guy." I smirked. Right and those tits are socks in a bra.

"Hormones," she said. I felt warm, flushed really. I felt-what-confusion, maybe.

"Guy? Hormones? Huh?" I spoke so softly that I could barely hear myself let alone be heard by another.

"Yes," she said. She lifted her skirt. Her panties, really a thong, had a bulge in the front.

"That's not a mons?" I said.

"No," he said. He was a he now.

"Uh-Sylvia-I have to go. No problem, but-uh-I have to go. Oh, and Sylvia, lose my number," I said. I set my empty glass down on the coffee table. I rose, grabbed my jacket, and left.

"Harlan, I'm sorry," I heard him say as the door slammed behind me. I drove back to my place as fast as I could. That as it turned out was a bad idea, at least the cops thought so: they busted me. The breathalyzer betrayed me at.12 blood alcohol. The jail turned out to be cold-fucking wonderful.

One thing about being in the tank, I had time to think if not to drink. I took stock of my situation. My wife had screwed me over. I had a minimum wage job-with tips extra-yippie-i-oh-ky-ay! I had picked up a transsexual or whatever to date; and, I didn't even know it. Oh yeah, and I almost forgot: I'm in fucking jail! What a fucking mess.

I thought back to Jennifer's date for the night. His look of amusement? Was it because he knew, or more than that, knew that I "didn't" know! Fuck-fuck-fuck!

Well, the upside was that if it weren't for all of my bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all. Helluva deal.

I had to do something about turning my life around, but I was damned if I had a clue as to how I might accomplish that little ditty. But there had to be a way. There had to be. ******

Well, I was no college graduate. No military genius. But, I was a Heckuva piano player, thanks to my dad. It was a year and a half after my divorce and I'd done practically nothing to change my life for the better, or to forget Jennifer if it came to that. I still worked mainly for tips. I was still short and just barely not ugly. I did have a house now though, recently purchased. It was small and in a kind of rundown neighborhood, but not too bad. It, the house, kinda reminded me of me.

I hadn't seen Jennifer since that night at the Hard Hat. Neither had I seen Sylvia-thank God! My humiliation over that mess just wouldn't die. I wondered if Jennifer knew. More, I wondered how I would handle it if I ever found out that she knew!

It was 2:00AM and we'd just closed the place. I stood outside and breathed deeply.

My life might be shit, but the weather was nice. It's true what some people say: the best things in life are free.

My new home, three bedrooms, two baths, thirty years old, and no leaks was a mile and half from the bistro: a half hour walk. I walked every day that it didn't rain. As I turned the corner onto my street, I noted a car, a fancy car, parked out front my old new home. There was someone in it. I walked slow trying to make out who it might be. I had no reason to be cautious, but something cued me that it might be a good idea.

As I neared the Caddy, for now I was able to identify the make; she got out.

"Hello Harlan," said Jennifer.

"Jennifer! What are you doing here?" I said.

"I was in the neighborhood. I thought I'd stop by," she said.

"Yeah, well how did you know where I lived, if I may ask?"

"I stopped by your work. I asked around.

"How come you're walking," she said.

"I always walk. Trying to slim down and stay in shape," I said. "Been going to the gym too, not that I'm any big stud or anything. Just a way to keep fit and busy. Lost some weight too, since you're asking. How about you?"

She looked at me, and I thought I read sympathy in her look. Just what I fucking needed!

"I'm okay. Job's good. Harlan, I really came by for a reason, if that's all right. Could we go inside?" she said.

I motioned her to follow me. "Just moved in, not too long back," I said. "But the place is clean if still a bit unorganized." I looked her up and down. She looked good, real good. I said so. "You look terrific."

"Thank you, Harlan. You look better too-slimmer and more, I don't know, something," she said.

"Yeah, something," I said. I know she didn't mean it as a put down, but her qualifications about my looks made me realize, once again, just how out of her league I was. Hell, I wanted to cry. In the two years since the divorce, I'd gotten laid maybe five times, and I'd had to pay for all five. Nothing like that to gut an ego.

"Harlan, that was meant as a compliment," she said. "Well, thank you for that. And, I'm grateful," I said, trying not to sound too phoney.

"Harlan, you have no way to know it of course, but I think of you every day. I really do. I miss you," she said.

"Uh-yes, and how's Marie and the babies," I said. Oh, and where's my manners? Want a drink or something?" I said. She frowned at my dodging of her remark.

"Marie and the kids are fine. The kids ask about you from time to time; you really should take some time to go over there and see them. They miss you.

"As for the drink, Yes, I guess-yes," she said. I headed for the kitchen to mix the martinis. Odd, I thought, it had been Jennifer that had turned me on to martinis a thousand years ago, and I had become more or less addicted to them over the years.

Returning minutes later, I found her on the couch, legs crossed, and smiling. Jesus she was hot. He skirt had ridden up and barely covered the temple of my adoration. And, I couldn't be sure, but I think she'd loosened a button on her blouse. She caught me staring.

"Like what you see, mister?" she said.

"Always did, Jen. You know that. Anyway, what did bring you here," I said.

"Harlan, it's been two years now since our-separation," she said. Separation, I thought; it was a divorce, not a separation, but if she wanted to pile on the euphemisms, I'd go along.

"Yeah, guess so," I said.

"My alimony checks to you are slated to stop after next month as you know." Actually, I should have known, but I hadn't even thought about it until she'd just mentioned it.

"Uh-yes," I said. I was going to feel the pinch once she stopped sending the $500. She'd never been late and never complained; I had to give her that. At first it had been kind of humiliating being partly supported by a woman who was no longer my wife, but it had gotten to be so routine that I no longer gave it much thought. But, now I had to.

"Well, Harlan, I don't mean this as a put down, I really don't. But, can I ask, how are you doing financially?" she said.

"Okay. If you mean how will I do once you stop sending the money, I'll be okay. I'll be fine," I said. I really would be okay, I knew, but it would force me to tighten the belt a bit what with the new house payment.

"Harlan, if you need the money, I can and will continue the payments. Kind of a reimbursement to you for all of the suffering I caused you. I feel just awful about us. I can't get over it," she said. I just looked at her. She had to know how humiliating it would be for me to have to ask her to continue to help support me, and that voluntarily.

"No, no," I said. "Like I said, I'll be fine."

"Okay, but I'm doing very well, so it would be no problem for me if you change your mind," she said. I wondered why she thought that I needed the extra money.

"Look," I said, "why don't you let me take you out for lunch tomorrow?" Where did that come from. Silly me, it came from the mouth of my little head. She was stunning. She must have realized what I was getting at because she actually giggled.

"Okay, big boy. I think I'll just let you do that," she said. Her big boy comment kinda bothered me, I wasn't big, and she clearly knew that; but I decided to let it pass.

I knew that lunch would be a time for us to talk, that's why I'd made the offer. I was pretty sure she wanted to too. I was hoping that maybe we could mend a few fences. I was sure I couldn't trust her in any meaningful way, not after what she'd done. But, maybe we could find some common ground and perhaps see each other from time to time-okay, so I wanted to fuck her; every man who'd likely ever met her did.

We talked for a little while, and I was feeling-what-kind of at ease, I guess.

The next day she showed up at a little before noon. She was dressed nice, but conservatively.

We took her car; it was better than mine. We pulled into the lot of The Red Barron Steak House ten minutes later-her choice. Yeah it was going to be expensive, but this was a onetime deal; I could afford it. It must have finally hit her that maybe I couldn't afford it because she stopped cold as we took our first steps toward the entrance.

"Harlan! Oh my goodness, I never thought to ask you. Is this place okay? Would you prefer somewhere else? I just kinda drove over here. I knew it was close, and I know the food's good, but…"

"No, no, it's fine. I've never eaten here before, but if you say the food is good; well, it's okay by me," I said. She totally knew she'd blown it. We went in and were escorted to a table in the back. It wasn't overly busy; it was a week day, and it was way too pricey for the local work forces in the area.

Seated, the waitress took our drink orders and disappeared. "Harlan, this is dutch today, okay? I refuse to stick you with the bill," she said.

"No way, Jennifer. I invited you. Besides, I'm not that poor. I have a job you know," I said.

"Uh-yes-I heard," she said. What went left unsaid was the obvious fact that she knew I was working essentially for tips. She knew of course, that I got a couple of grand a month from my military retirement, but keeping a house with all that entailed was expensive and she knew that too; and, I knew she knew it. The extra six grand annual that she'd been paying me per the divorce settlement had been a big help. My income was going to drop from a tough enough 40K to an actually painful thirty 34K. Well what was, was, I guess.

She Was pulling down 6K to 8K monthly depending on her bonuses. I couldn't compete with her economically, and yes it bothered me a little. But, that said, I did like having my free time; that, almost as much as she liked doing battle in the world of business.

"What?" I said. "It's a good job!" She smiled.

"Of course. I'm glad for you," she said.

The rest of lunch was filled with pretty mundane stuff. I kept trying to see down her blouse, and she kept pretending that she didn't notice. I felt like a kid from the wrong side of the tracks on his first date with a decidedly uptown girl.

She slid over next to me on the way back to my house and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I turned to look at her and she planted one squarely on my ruby-red lips and made an effort to spear my tonsils with her tongue; she almost caused an accident.

"Okay, we'll have to wait till we get to the house since you are clearly a little rusty in your making out while driving skills," she laughed.

I didn't break any speed laws on the way home, but I didn't waste any time either. ******

Once in the house she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I busied myself with fixing us a couple of martinis. Some minutes later she emerged. She was naked except for her high heels.

"See anything more interesting than television?" she said.

I just nodded. Speech for the moment was not possible. "Huh?" I said, finally.

"Get it while the gettin's hot," she said. "I know you need it and I am here for you." I felt uneasy with what she was saying, or more to the point the way she'd said it, but she was right about me needing it. Needing it hell! I was desperate. I'd worry about the niceties and nuances of her linguistics later.

I came to her and took her in my arms. Her being taller than me, especially in her pumps let me rest my face and lips against the softness of her breasts quite naturally. It felt good. It felt like I remembered in the early years. She had me and she knew it.

I hated feeling helpless with this woman, the same woman that had killed my heart. She led me to the couch and pulled my face to hers and kissed me. It was a tender kiss, but one that was also laden with anxiety and wishful thinking on my part. Dueling tongues became the game of the moment. My dick had never been so hard.

"You gotta get naked, Harlan, don't make me do all of the work," she giggled. I stood and I obeyed. Finally undressed, I again joined her on the couch. I began suckling on her breasts. God what wonderful things they were.

For the next half hour we kissed, felt each other up, and then the heavy stuff began.

She pushed me back and smiled benignly at me; she was taking care of me-my needs. Leaning forward she took my whole five and a half inches into her mouth and sucked and licked me to a state of uncommon ecstasy. I came and she swallowed.

"Needed to get the first one out of the way," she said. "Now, hopefully you can last a little bit while I give myself to you."

"I will do my best;" I said; "you can trust me on that one." She took a drink of her rum and coke, and began kissing me again and fondling my dick. I'd been so long without that she had me up and ready within ten minutes: a record for me. She just smiled.

I coaxed her onto her knees, back to me, on the couch. I nudged her knees a little farther as I stood behind her and pressed into her. She grunted a little bit, but actually pushed back at me impaling herself. I screwed her slowly at first. She just rested her head on the back of the couch and let me have my way with her. As I neared a climax, she sensed it and started mooing and telling me to go faster and harder, "Harder, much harder," she gasped as I unloaded myself into her. She jerked and grunted again; I was hoping she'd made it."

Her slip back on and my boxers donned, we sipped our drinks and looked at each other. She smiled at me and finished dressing; I was right behind her. She stood and smiled down at me as I finished putting on my shoes.

"Feel better?" she asked. Her look and her tone made me feel like she thought she'd done me a favor or something. It was disconcerting.

"I feel good; it was good," I said. There was that smile again-condescending.

"I'm glad," she said. "I can do you every once in a while if you need it. I mean we were married, and we did enjoy it in the old days. I know it's tough for a man to do without."

The timing was bad, but I felt I had to say something. "Jennifer?"

"Yes, Harlan?

"Was this-was this a mercy fuck?" I said. She looked surprised.

"Baby, I just wanted to give you something. I felt I owed you for the way I treated you before. I know you've been-well-without for a while…"

"Wait-wait," I said. "You know I've been going without? How?" She looked down.

"Look, Harlan, I just wanted you to feel good. I wanted to do something for you. I know you needed…"

"Yes, Jennifer, but 'how' did you know? Please, how?" I said.

"Melanie Groves," she said, as if that meant something to me.

"Huh?" I said.

"You told her. I know her from a long time ago," she said.

"And, just who is Melanie Groves," I said. I really had not a clue.

"Harlan, let it drop, okay. It's not important and neither is she. What's important is my taking care of you; I mean even if only occasionally. Okay?" she said.

"Jennifer, I want to know. I mean it," I said.

"She's a prostitute, Harlan. One of the ones you hired for an evening. We used to be friends. She does some porn films and puts out for bucks now and again, okay." She was looking at me with what could only be described as sympathy. If I hadn't been humiliated enough, I certainly was now. I fell back into a nearby chair.

"Fuck!" I said. "Well, I guess I should be grateful for your sympathy and you having the kindness of heart to have mercy on this old ex-husband of yours. Fucking wonderful. Did you get a nice little giggle out of what she told you?

"Jennifer, don't come back, not ever," I said.

"But why, Harlan? There's nothing wrong with me helping you out now and again. I like doing you. I really do. For the record, so did Melanie," she said.

"Just leave me the fuck alone," I said. "O-fucking-kay!"

"Harlan, you're being silly. I'll be in touch." With that she picked up her purse and left.

I sat there stunned, and stewing. So, I am reduced to being a laughing stock, at best an object of sympathy. Well, what the hell, what else was fucking new. ******

Sitting in a bar and crying in one's beer is a less than delightful way to live a life. That said, it is a primo way to think things over.

So here was Jennifer allowing me, an old flame, an ex-husband, a complete loser the opportunity to get his rocks off-occasionally, and that for free! That there was a downside to that kind of favor does not seem to have occurred to her. My ego was crushed, but my balls were emptied out. My self-esteem, what little I had, was reduced to a vague mist in the ether of the eternal cosmos. Did the woman think me that low? Did she love me? The answer to both questions seemed to be yes.

Still, that Jennifer no longer had any respect for me that was clear; she felt sorry for me. I think too that she still loved me a little and maybe even felt a little bit guilty about what she'd done to me. Questions answered, but now there were other questions, new questions. Should I bite the bullet and accept that I was a loser and take what I could get? Was there a way that I could redeem myself at least in my own eyes if not in Jennifer's or for that matter anyone else's? Yes, bars were good places to ruminate and plan and make choices; and oh yes, drink. ****** "You play very nicely," she said.

"Thanks, that's nice to hear," I said. "Can I get you another one of those?" The woman eyed me warily.

"Sure, why not," she said. I signaled to Richard, who was on duty himself that night, pointed to her wine glass and smiled. He nodded and brought the replacement Chardonnay moments later.

She was tall, maybe five-nine; she was a hard body; and she was Natalie Cummings currently active U.S Army. Why couldn't some of the women that I tended to meet be shorter, I thought. But, what the heck, as Frank Sinatra once sang: "The taller the tree is the sweeter the peach."

"No boyfriend tonight?" I said. Okay, I was fishing.

"Broke up. A couple of weeks now. Thought I'd get out and socialize a little," she said. I smiled again; this was looking good.

We talked for the rest of my break, and when the last set was history, she was still there listening and sipping her wine. I went over to her.

"Hi, again, I guess you must really like jazz," I said. "Any chance a guy like me could hope to have dinner with a looker like you sometime?" I said. She was a looker too. Brown hair, green eyes, bright smile, wide female hips, 34Bs-if I was any judge. Yes she was a looker for sure.

"Are you asking me for a date?" she said. I sighed expecting a turndown.

"Yeah," I said. "But, I'll understand if… " My insecurity was showing, I knew, but I was helpless to do anything about it.

"The answer is yes," she said, and laughed out loud. "Why so tentative? You're a nice looking man. Of course I'll have dinner with you." She clearly had no problem lying. But, I was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. After what Jennifer had done to me, again, I was hoping to get at least a smidgen of my self-esteem reestablished.

We met at the Huntington; it was Saturday night. The Huntington was a classy little restaurant downtown. The food was good, the wine better, and the company super. My hopes were rising. We danced a little, and I felt the old rhythm coming back into my feet. A little jumpin' and jivin' and I was in the groove again. It felt good, and my partner was good.

We didn't quite close the place, and on the way home she moved in close to me. "You're a very nice guy," she said. "You can ask me out again." I was feeling real good.

At her door she kissed me. Now children, if there ever comes a time, when I, as a man, could relive a moment in time; I pray, I mean I pray, that it will be the moment of that kiss; it was definitely that good. The softness, the emotion, the smell, the taste: I'd never experienced anything like it.

Pulling away, she looked me in the eye, "I'd invite you in, Harlan, but not this first time. But, you can get your hopes up for future opportunities," she said.

"Harlan?"

"Huh?" I said.

"What's your middle name?" she said.

"Andrew," I said.

"Hmm, HAL," she said.

"Hal?" I said.

"Yeah, Harlan Andrew Lawton," she said.

"Oh, yeah, I wasn't thinking," I said. She laughed.

We dated at least once a week over the next month, and I did finally get into her pants on our sixth date. It was great for the first half hour; then we had a visitor, and it was no longer great. ******

"Paul!" she screamed at the newcomer. "What are you doing here?" she said. "Get out!" He snarled.

"Whaddya doing with this twerp," he said. "He" turned out to be Paul Higgins, Natalie's ex-boyfriend.

"I'm fucking him! And why not, he's better than you, and trustworthy-unlike you," she said. He snarled again.

"Get the fuck outta here asshole," he said, moving toward me menacingly. I stood my ground which proved to be a less than brilliant move on my part.

"You get out," I said, "like the lady said."

I guessed him to be maybe six-two and two-thirty. He was young, maybe late twenties. He was clearly in shape, and I knew him to be Army strong-that from conversations with Natalie. Of course I was right up there with him: age fifty, mid-fives tall, 160 as of my latest weigh in, and not entirely a physical disgrace. Yeah, that oughta make the fight about even-not!

I was naked, but oddly, not embarrassed. But, I think he was, and it was making him mad. I never saw the strike coming. It landed square on my jaw. After that I wouldn't be feeling anything until a little later. Evidently he beat the living daylights out of me.

I thought I could hear Natalie screaming, but there was no comprehension of her words. The paramedics and the cops arrived at roughly the same moment. I was only half conscious, but I remember wondering why there couldn't be a cute nurse or two trying to save me; instead I was being saved by a couple of black guys who seemed to consider my condition more than a little dubious. That was all I remembered, until noon the following day when I finally awoke.

Finally, a pretty nurse. "How are you feeling," she said.

"Not sure," I said. "Am I going to live?"

"Probably, but you'll need to be here for a few more days," she said, smiling. "There's somebody here to see you if you're up to it." I nodded, I figured I knew who it was. I was right.

"Hi, Harlan," said Natalie. "My God you took such a beating. I blame myself, my little man." She had to say that, I thought wistfully. "Paul really isn't a bad man; he just lost it. I hate what he did too you, really." There was something in the way she said this last that bothered me, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Well, that's okay. So long as I get the girl, it was worth it," I said. She looked away, and I had a sinking feeling. I just knew it. I knew it. It was going to happen again. "What's the matter, Nat?" I said.

"Harlan-I'm-I'm getting back with him. I know it seems like a slap in the face to you. But, it isn't really. He and I belong together. If I hadn't caught him-well caught him with another woman-well…"

"Oh-I see," I said. "I guess if it makes you happy… " I started. I was starting cry. Not about her breaking off with me, but because I just couldn't seem to break away from the acute case of loser-itis that seemed to envelop me.

She spent the next hour trying to console me. She was a great gal, but, I guess I knew all along that she was never really going to be my gal.

Natalie visited me once more. It was on the day before I was released. We promised to remain friends and keep in contact. I knew she wouldn't of course, but it was what was necessary to say at that time and place. She kissed me lightly on the lips one last time and left. It was the last I would ever see of my Army girl.

Her boyfriend, I'd heard, had spent a few days in jail, but was released when I didn't press charges. I had intended to, but Natalie had asked me to think about it, and she had been so good to me while we had been together, that I did her a favor. I had rarely been respected as she had respected me; it had meant a lot. ******

"Okay, mister Lawton, but take it easy for a few more days. Nothing was broken, but you have some very severe contusions and that concussion is nothing to sneeze about," the doctor said.

A male nurse wheeled me out to the curb where I'd called a cab to come get me. Richard'd said he would've come, but I waved him off. A cab would be fine. I did intend to rest for a few days, and I didn't want to answer a lot of simplistic questions. A voice behind me and to my right got my attention.

"Waitin' for a cab, big boy?" the voice said. I winced. "I sent him away."

"What are you doing here, Jennifer? Here to gloat or laugh or maybe offer me another mercy fuck," I said. I could feel her frown even though I had not turned around to see her.

"I can't do anything right by you, can I? She said.

"Sure you can. How about leaving me alone," I said. She ignored me.

"You're taking me out for coffee, and we're going to talk. Then, I will drive you home and help you get settled back in. I can see you need a bit of looking after for now. Oh, and don't figure on getting lucky either. One you're not in any shape to do me properly, and two, I'm pissed at you," she said.

"I don't want to have coffee with you, and I can still call a cab, so back off," I said.

"No." With that she wheeled me over to her new car, another Caddy; it looked real nice. She wasn't actually rough, but she wasted no time getting me out of the mandatory wheelchair and into the car. The ride to Denny's was absolutely silent for the first half of the drive.

"You might as well surrender. I need to talk to you, and you need to listen. Don't worry, I promise not to humiliate you, again. And, for what it's worth, I get it now. I never meant to before, but I understand that I did," she said.

I looked at her like she was something out of a bad novel. "Whatever," I said.

Of course I surrendered. Seated at Denny's, she got right to it. "You need to let me come see you from to me to time. We may be divorced, but I still have feelings for you. I can't help it but I do."

"Yeah, like I believe you," I said. "You couldn't stand to have me around when we were married. Hell, I think you were actually ashamed of me." She looked at me like she couldn't believe what she heard. Then, a light seemed to come on in her head.

"My God! Is that what you think?" she said.

"Come on, Jennifer. We've been over this. We went over it during the divorce," I said.

"No we didn't. You whined about me ignoring and neglecting you, but not that I was ashamed of you," she said. "I never was. I mean never."

"Then why did you abandon me on all of those weekends with Marie. The truth and nothing but, please," I said.

She sighed. "Let me start with a question or two of my own first, okay?" I nodded for her to go ahead.

"It's complicated. But, didn't I treat you good at home?" she said.

"You didn't nag or throw things, but the sex…"

"But we cuddled and kissed some and stuff, and once or twice a week I let you do me, as I recall. Right?" she said.

"Yeah, so what?" I said.

"Okay" She paused. "This is going to be hard." I waited. More of the same old shit I figured was coming.

"Harlan I thought you were bored with me and the sex we had when we did do it. I figured it was just us getting old and losing interest in stuff-well-sex; that's all," she said.

I snickered but kept my mouth shut for once.

"Harlan, I was having an affair. I'd been having it with a younger man for a long time. Frankly, I needed it. I needed to be-well-fucked and fucked good, and you weren't getting it done," she said.

My face must have betrayed my feelings. "Oh, don't; don't cry for goodness sakes, Harlan, frankly that's been part of our problem. For a man who has seen killing and tragedy and all of that stuff in the war zone, you are such a whiny wimp," she said.

"So, it is true; you were fucking around on me, behind my back. I was nothing but your cuckold," I said, my bitterness showing through. "Well, hell, water under the bridge now, I guess." I paused.

"Harlan…"

"So I'm just a whiny wimp, huh? What happened to, 'I promise not to humiliate you today," I said. She flushed.

"I'm sorry. I did it again didn't I," she said. The question was rhetorical.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Can we go home now? I need to rest. I'm actually under doctor's orders to do just that. And, oh, I promise not to put the make on you. Really, you can trust me." She scowled.

"Almost," she said. "I have a couple of things that I'd planned to say, and I'd more than appreciate it if you would indulge me. Okay?" I was exasperated, but I figured what the hell; what else could she do or say to me that she hadn't already. I was about to learn just how in error was in my thinking.

"Harlan, I love you. You're short, really too short for me to dance with except to the faster stuff. You whine like a little boy all of the time. We don't like the same kind of nightlife. You're into old people's music: jazz and stuff like that; I prefer the modern stuff. You like rye whiskey, I like white wine. You have no serious ambition; you're depending on your 'way to early' military retirement; I'm a go getter in the business world; what kind of man let's his wife make most of the money for chryssakes. And your cock-all five inches of it-you get me off maybe one in twenty times.

"In short, Harlan, you need to get a grip and learn how to be a man. A man that a woman can look up to and take pride in.

"I cheated to feel like a woman. Harlan, If you don't want me, find yourself a woman who can love you like I do, and treat her like a treasure; make her feel like a woman.

She paused, "Harlan, even after all of the above, I tell you I love you more today than I did the day you went off to war to serve our country. You are a gentle, trusting, sensitive and faithful man." She paused again.

"Well, there," she said, "I've said my piece." She looked at me with wrinkled brow. I could not, for the life of me, decipher what her look was telling me. Nor could I imagine the mindset that had prompted her to unload on me as she had.

"Well, I can see that what you'd planned to tell me, as in fact you just have, was couched in such a way as to spare me even the slightest vestige of humiliation.

"Are you fucking crazy, Jennifer! We are fucking divorced!

"You love me? Excuse the fuck outta me if I find that hard to believe! Now, can we go home! I need to rest, and hopefully die! Okay?" I said. Oddly, I didn't feel bad, well, not as bad as one might think should have been the case after hearing a monologue like the one she'd just delivered.

We drove in utter, thunderous, freezing silence. I was surprised to see that she seemed to be fighting back tears. Well hell, I'd shed enough of them because of her. Excuse the hell outta me if I was a little short on empathy.

She did help me get settled in, in spite of my once again killed ego, and after an uncomfortable half hour she left. I wasn't to see her for a while, a long while. ******

My fiftieth came and went. I'd met a couple of women over the year since my last meeting with Jennifer, and things had seemed to be going my way for once. But, for guy like me, that kind of luck couldn't last; I knew it and I was right.

I was sitting in Richard's and sipping a Corona when someone took the stool right beside me. I looked over and my heart sank. "Hello, Harlan," she said.

"Marie! What are you doing here," I said.

"Talking to you. You got a few?" she said.

I kinda stared, and she took it wrong. "I'm not here to make you feel uncomfortable, Harlan. I just would like to talk to you for a few minutes," she said. "Would that be all right?" I nodded, and we headed for a table against the far wall.

As we settled in, I surveyed the woman. Marie was a still a tight little maid for sure. Five-seven, one-ten, short dark hair, and small breast that gave her a little girl look. She smelled great too.

"Some how are the children?" I said. "Growing, I'd expect."

She smiled. "They are that. Jenna's ten now and Willy's eleven. They're good babies. They miss you. It's been a long time. You really owe it to yourself to come see them sometime. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you would.

I didn't say, yeah so I could babysit for you, that would have been out of line at that moment. "So, what does bring you to this part of town, Marie?" I said.

"I thought you should know; Jennifer's in love. She's found a man. You waited too long, Harlan. She could have be yours, you know, she waited a long time for you to get your head outta your ass," she said. I looked at her wistfully.

"She never loved me, Marie. No, that's wrong. She loved me like one loves a helpless puppy. That won't do for me. I need respect and specialness. She was not ready to let me have those. But, for what it's worth, I still love her. Tell her that, and tell her I wish her every happiness," I said.

"I will, Harlan. Well, I will let you go. Please, do stop in and see the children soon, okay?"

I nodded and said I would. And I did, a month later. And I was stunned by what I learned.

"Marie, what's the matter," I said, as she ushered me inside. "The children okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, Harlan; they're fine. They're in the back on the computer playing some game or other," she said.

"Marie, come on, what gives? You look like someone whose had some very bad news," I said.

"It is bad news, Harlan. Very bad news." I looked at her and waited.

"It's Mike Longstreet, Harlan. He's very ill. If he doesn't get a kidney transplant soon; he'll be gone," she said. "His own system is poisoning him. I don't know the details, but that's pretty much the long and the short of it."

"Kidney transplant? Mike who?" I said.

"Yes, both of his kidneys failed. Oh, you don't know do you. Mike is Jennifer's fiancée," she said.

"Wow!" I said. "Jennifer must be a wreck. Let me know if there is anything I can do." I was uncomfortable with Jennifer on two counts. One, she was getting married. Two, the guy she was apparently in love with was in bad shape. I wasn't asshole enough to want to see the guy die, but it was clearly none of my business, or so I thought.

Marie and I talked for a few more minutes before I was reintroduced to my old favorite audience. I played their keyboard for them, we did a couple of sing alongs to some of our old favorites and hugged and got reacquainted with each other. They had grown a lot and Jenna showed signs of becoming a carbon copy of her beautiful mommy. Helluva thing.

As I was leaving Marie's house and giving the children my word that I wouldn't be a stranger, I was stung to the core.

"So, anyway, Marie, don't forget to give my best to you sister, okay?" I said.

"I will, but unless that new man of hers can't find a blood match things are going to be very bad for her. You know the guy has one of the rarest blood types around?' she said.

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah, I think it's AB-negative, if I have it right. Only about one half of one percent of the population has it. Very rare.

"Anyway, please come back. The children love you, Harlan," she said.

"I will," I said, rather quietly. She didn't notice.

I was sick, sick to my stomach. My blood type was AB-negative. I didn't even know if Jennifer knew it, that in spite of our relatively long association and marriage. It's not something that comes up unless someone is ill. The only reason I knew it was because of my stint in the military. I didn't know what Jen's blood type was, so it is likely she didn't know mine. ****** "Michael Longstreet? No he's not here. He's an outpatient. Are you family?" said nurse Joan.

"Yes," I lied. "Any chance of seeing his doctor?"

"Doctor Linz. Yes, she's on duty. Let me see," she said. She headed over to the nurse's station across the annex and made a call. I could see her nodding and looking over at me. I was surprised when a short, maybe five-two woman, of middle age emerged from a doorway ten feet from me. Nurse Joan pointed at me.

"Mr. Lawton?" she said.

"Yes. I'm here about Mr. Longstreet," I said.

"Come with me," she said. We retreated to the room, office, she'd just emerged from. "How can I help you, Mr. Lawton?" We both took seats and faced each other six feet apart.

"I may be able to help," I said, "I'm AB-negative." She gave me what can only be described as a look of relief.

"Mister Lawton, if that is so, you may indeed be able to help. You may be in a position to save the man's life," she said.

I handed her my military records. They were old, but they had the kinds of info that a doctor like Hilary Linz had to have to make judgments. She looked up at as she closed the folder.

"Clearly, Mr. Longstreet has a guardian angel, Mr. Lawton.

"And you are willing to donate a kidney to him? How long have you known him?" she said.

"It's complicated, doctor, and here's the deal. To answer your first question, yes, I am willing to donate a kidney. The answer to your second question is that I have never met him, and I don't want to-ever," I said.

"Would I be out of line to ask why?" she said. I hesitated.

"His fiancée is my ex-wife. She must never know. If that can be arranged, I am willing to donate my kidney to save the guy." She looked at me and smiled.

"I see," she said. "Obviously, you and your ex had an amicable divorce. How long ago?"

"Something over three years now," I said. She nodded sagely.

We talked for some minutes and she assured me that she could arrange the anonymous donation.

It was but two weeks later that I went under the knife. It was but two days after that that I was released by Dr. Linz. As I was being wheeled out the front door, she came up to me.

"You'll need some attention, Mr. Lawton. You need to go slow and be careful what you intake in the next little space; you know, as I've mentioned to you before. That said, how's your schedule tonight?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"I need to take you out to dinner. I want to talk to you," she said.

I looked at her with a cocked eye. "Dinner? With me?" I said. She smiled.

"Yes, I promise not to talk shop; not too much anyway," she said.

"Okay," I said. For the first time, I saw her as woman and not a medical professional. Could she actually be interested in me. She was a very female type. Not especially runway gorgeous in the face, but all of the parts were assembled in good order. The cab ride home was a time to think.

I wondered at the scene in Mr. Longstreet's room after his surgery which had occurred on the same day as mine. I knew Jen was happy, one of the nurses let me know a little bit of what went on. The man was still out of it at the time, but it was for her, I'd done it, if the truth were known.

"I'd gotten home at abut three, and there were several messages on the phone-from Marie. Essentially, they notified me that Jennifer's man had been saved by some anonymous donor. I smiled; it made me feel good.

It was almost 6:00 when I got a call.

"Harlan? Where have you been? I have been calling you for the past several days," she said.

"Oh, I was out of town," I lied. "I did get your messages. I'm glad Jen's man got the operation. How is Jen doing?"

"She's great. She still can't believe it, but she's great. She cried for two days after the doctor told her-them-the good news," she said.

"Well, I'm happy for her," I said. "Please give her-them-my best." We talked for a couple minutes more. ******

The good Dr. Linz picked me up at 7:00. I could walk okay, just real slow. The fact that I was in generally good shape worked for me.

We headed for the Red Barron. The doctor knew my economic status and insisted on paying and ordering. I submitted. I happened to be broke at that particular moment and McDonald's was about the best I could have done. The hundred bucks or so the Red Barron was going to hit us with was not happening if I'd had to pay.

Drinks in front of us-water-she started. "You did a wonderful thing for that man, Harlan"; she'd taken to calling me by my first name in the days since our initial meeting. "Have you heard how his fiancée, your ex, reacted?" she said.

"A little, her sister called me to let me know how happy she was," I said, minimizing what Marie had told me.

"Happy? Oh, yes, she was happy. She actually fainted in my office and cried non-stop for the entire time she was there after I told her. The relief for the both of them was enormous.

"He was there too, as I say, it was after his dialysis session. He was stunned. He'd actually been prepared to-well-you know. He had all but despaired of finding a match. You can feel real good about him and what you did," she said.

"They don't… " I said.

"No, they don't know. No one does. I saw to that. If they ever find out it will have to be you that tells them," she said.

We talked for some time before the absolutely marvelous prime rib arrived. Talking to her, during dinner, I considered that here was yet another female who was way out of my league; I just couldn't seem to win or get into sync with nature. So one could well imagine my shock-not surprise but shock-when having driven me home, she asked to come in.

I had some herbal tea and she, my doctor, allowed it. We drank talked some more, and flirted. Well, she flirted with me. I hadn't the nerve to reciprocate. We, she really, made a date for us for the following Saturday. We would be spending the day at her house.

We'd talked and shared and learned a lot about each other that night. She wasn't married, but had been some twenty years earlier. She was forty-eight and looking. She was very straight up about it. This was definitely a no nonsense woman who was used to making decisions, and she seemed to be in a hurry. Well, the truth is, that I was too. A month later we were engaged three months after that we were married and settled into a new home.

The difference in our incomes was never an issue. She made a half-mother-in-law annual I made around 35K. It never came up. She paid the bills, and I played the piano five nights a week at Richard's and kept the house up. I had put my foot down about having a maid, and she'd acquiesced. The sex was good, the mutual emotional support even better, and I fell head over heels in love with this wonderful creature.

My history of hard luck had run its course, and I was finally coming into some of the good stuff. ******

We were at the Hard Hat some few months later, when they came in. Well, you had to know that that was going to happen.

The look on Jennifer's face when she saw us was precious. The two of them came over. "Well, Dr. Linz? Harlan? I'm surprised," she said. "Uh-sorry-Harlan this is Mike. Uh-my husband." It was clear that she was doing her best not to embarrass or humiliate me once again. She was finally getting it.

"Hello, Jen," I said. "How have you been?" I said.

"Really good, Harlan. Mike, this is Harlan my ex-husband; I've told you about him," she said. She looked a little uncomfortable introducing me.

Her husband, Mike, looked unimpressed, if I had it right. He was clearly not thrilled to meet me; I had to wonder why. A big guy, handsome, likely used to having people fawn over him: but those were not reasons to take on an attitude, or so I considered. Still, he was on his good behavior at the moment; he was in the presence of the doctor that had engineered his salvation.

"Nice to meet you," he said, I thought a little insincerely, but I let it go. I was happy and his attitude wasn't going to dampen my spirits. We talked for a minute or two more and Michael led his new wife away to their table.

Alone with my wife again, she smirked. "Remember," she said, "he doesn't know anything. Guys like him always think that they're the cat's meow. The good news is, if I am any judge, that his wife will give him hell when they get home." I laughed.

"Yeah, she probably will," I said.

Dinner done the band struck up some romantic airs and we headed for the crowded dance floor. One thing about being short, one could almost hide behind the larger bodies floating around dancing like we all were.

It happened that at one point we were within a few feet of Jennifer and her man, and they didn't see us. We were close enough to overhear one of his comments.

"You were married to a shrimp like that?" he said, and he laughed. Hilary heard, as did I, and she frowned.

"I'm not letting that go," she said, looking at me. "He's about to learn one of life's most important lessons. Okay?" she was asking my approval. I nodded.

About twenty minutes later, my wife excused herself to the ladies room. She literally followed Jennifer in.

It was a long ten minutes before they emerged. They came to our to our table. I looked from one female to the other. "Harlan, please follow me. You too Dr. Linz, please," she said. I rose to do her bidding. Approaching their table, I thought I saw a scowl that quickly faded as Jennifer pulled us to a stop in front of him and indicated that we should sit. We did.

"Mike, the Lawtons are coming to a barbecue at our house this weekend. Isn't that wonderful," said Jennifer.

"Huh?" he said. "Jen, I think that this weekend we might be… " he was clearly looking for a way out. I was howling inside, but outwardly remaining passive. My wife, on the other hand, did not try to hide her glee.

"Did you know," she said interrupting him," that Harlan is AB-negative."

"Huh? Hey, I'm AB negative too," he said, finally interested in me as a fellow rare bird.

"And, he's here with Dr. Linz," she said. He looked at her as if trying to process her meaning. Slowly a smidgen of clarity seemed to be seeping into his consciousness. He looked directly at me.

"Harlan, my man, you are going to have the best barbecued steak you ever ate this weekend. You don't even have to bring the drinks," he said.

We all laughed. It turned out to be a really good steak too, just like my new blood brother had promised.

-----------------------------

   Series:Irvin and Isabel Davis
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She wants him to be okay with sharing her. He's not into it.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/75550/irvin-and-isabel-davis
Published:2014-01-01
"I don't know, Minnie, it's just so damnably frustrating," said Isabel.

"Izzy, count your blessings. Your last husband, Hollis Cort, beat you up-regularly!-and that the whole one and a half years you were married to the asshole," said Minnie. "The way I see it, you've got no gripe. So what if Irv is kind of a pussy. He works, pays the bills, and treats you pretty good as far as John and I can see."

"Yes, he pays the bills-barely. But, he's been passed over for promotion at least three times that I know of because he refuses to do what he has to do to get one, a promotion that is, and he could get one. Keeps saying he's going to but never does. Hell, I make as much working for MacDonald's as he does selling software for Ritter. The good news is that I do get to keep my money or most of it since he does in fact pay the bills. So yes, okay, you're right, I guess I shouldn't complain too loudly, at least not for the time being," said Isabel, but plaintively.

"Izzzzyyyyy, are you saying what I think you're saying?" said Minnie. "You're not thinking of divorcing that good man for that part time lover of yours are you? I mean mister big shot who isn't a big shot but thinks he is that is to say?

"Let me ask you. How long has it been since you and Irv have done the deed?" said Minnie. Isabel Davis nee Porter, had the decency to look as guilty as she felt.

"A while, I guess," said Izzy.

"A while? How long is a while?" said Minnie.

"A couple of months maybe; I don't exactly keep a journal you know," said Isabel. Her friend had fire in her eyes.

"You idiot!" said Minnie. "A man can't go months without getting any. A man, any man, needs it pretty nearly all of the time. You've only been married for what-four years?"

"Yes, about that. Four years next month," said Izzy.

"Yeah, I know, I was your maid of honor. So what? You plan to let him have you as an anniversary present! I'll say it again, you're an idiot!" said Minnie.

"No, it's not like that," said Isabel.

"Oh, then what's it like? Let me see, you've been denying him the undeniable. You hold him in contempt. You've got a lover on the side. So, yes, tell me, what's it like?"

"Oh I don't know! Frankly, he just doesn't turn me on anymore. I mean he's a good guy in some ways. And, yes, I do feel guilty keeping Hardin Karpis on the side. And I do feel guilty having to fake pleasure when Irv and I do do it. But…"

"But nothing. You need to get your act together, baby doll. You need to fuck your husband tonight, and he better not get the idea that you're faking it. If you don't get your act together muy pronto, girl, you're going to lose that man. And, I can guarantee your skinny pink ass that somebody else will be picking him up not all that long thereafter!" said Minnie. Her friend sighed.

"I suppose you're right, Minnie. I guess that I, he and I, have just been kinda goin' through the motions these past months. Anyway, I'll be thinking about what you said. He does deserve better I suppose. If he just wasn't such a wimp! He needs to man up, and be the guy I know he can be or thought he could be-or-or something," said Isabel.

"Yeah right! Listen girlfriend, you're the woman. It's your job to train the guy. So do so!" said Minnie. Her friend nodded, but it was a nod of resignation.

******

I took a deep breath. She was in the kitchen. I'd finally decided to lay it on her. I knew she would probably be mad at me.

I hung up my coat and set my briefcase down on the coffee table. I headed into Dante's Inferno.

"Hi hon," she said. "How was work?" Her good mood stopped me.

"Uh-good. Sold some stuff. So, good. How was your day?" I said, following her lead.

"Also, good. Got off at noon. Minnie came by, and we gossiped a while," she said.

"All nasty and graphic stuff, I hope," I said, now in a good mood myself and pushing it. She snickered.

"Yes, all nasty and graphic. Minnie did say that I need to fuck you more, says I've been neglecting you," said my wife. My look got a smirk from her.

"Really? I knew I liked that woman," I said.

"Yes, well tonight I'm going to drain your ball sack and leave your penis begging for mercy. Seem like something you could get into?" She said.

"Uh-yeah-I can go for that-get into it," I said, "no problem at all."

Dinner was good and mostly on the quiet side. Dishes done and dried-I did the drying-we stood and kinda stared at each other. She smiled.

"Well," she said.

I went to her and kissed her gently on the lips. "Let's go into the living room. I want to take you on the couch," I said, not quite rubbing my palms together. She smiled yet again and did as I asked.

I led her to the couch and knelt in front of her as she remained standing. I let my hand reach around behind her and cup her buttocks. I pulled her, still dressed in her skirt and blouse, to me and sniffed at the depression where her mound lay still hidden from view. I heard her stifle a giggle.

I lifted her skirt and saw that her white panties were damp in front. I kissed them and inserted my thumbs into their waistline. I eased them down to her ankles. She stepped out of them kicking off the black flats she'd been wearing in the process.

I stood and turned her around. I leaned into her pressing the hardness of my cock against the fabric of her skirt. I coaxed her to a kneeling position on the couch and dropped my pants and underpants kicking them and my shoes off and to the side. My cock stuck straight out from me threatening to spear her from behind.

I lifted her skirt and flipped it up onto her back.

"Spread wide for me, honey," I said. She did and arched her back inviting my invasion of her pussy.

I knelt once more, but this time behind her exposed slit. I sniffed her woman scent. I licked and kissed her pussy and her anus. I sucked on her clit my nose rubbing against her sphincter and was rewarded with mooing sounds that I was sure were genuine. As to that, I had in recent times suspected her of faking interest when we did do it, but I was pretty sure, that for the moment, her interest was the real McCoy.

I stood and slid into her. God, she felt wonderful. I drilled her for some minutes doing my damnedest to not cum too soon. I wanted more than anything for her to make it. I felt her stiffen and shudder; she had made it. I was sure of it. I began ramming her for all I was worth trying to bring her off a second time as I unloaded inside of her.

I sagged forward across her back as she in turn sagged onto the cushions of the couch. I'd unloaded a goodly cum into her. Her? No, she hadn't made it the second time. I let myself roll off to the side, legs splayed obscenely I was sure, but caring not a whit.

"Was it good for you, hon?" she said. I turned to her. There was something odd about her tone. I was sure she'd made it once, but…

"Yes, Of course," I said. "You?"

"The best," she said. "We'll be doing this more often. No more neglecting you. I promise."

Something was wrong. She was-something-too businesslike maybe. Kinda like a prostitute that, having done what she'd been paid to do, turned her attention, her focus, to other things, like needing to get ready for the next client. Me? I was barely getting my breath back. It was clear, in any event, that she wasn't thinking about how it was for her, no, she was concerned about me. She was bored, but at least mildly concerned about me!

I was now remembering what I had determined to do before I got home when she'd short shanked me with her offer of sex and goodwill. Why had she been in such a good and giving mood? Maybe it really was because of something Minnie Fowler had said to her earlier in the day. Well, we'd be talking now for sure, but not tonight. Tomorrow we would do the sit down thing. For the moment I was going to have to pretend that everything was peachy, I was too tired to be an effective inquisitor, but tomorrow, tomorrow would be the day.

******

Oatmeal again, well it was good for the waistline, or so she regularly assured me. I sat with my coffee across from her. It was Thursday, her day off from Mac's. She seemed in a good mood; no doubt feeling good about successfully fulfilling her "duty." I had to think that her feeling so might be short lived. This time there would be no dodging the subject. I wanted to know what was going on, and I wanted to be more than sure that whatever it was, was history.

"Feel good this morning, honey?" she said, setting her cup down in front of her.

I took a sip of my coffee. "Hmm, I guess we'll know about that shortly," I said, at last.

"Hmm?" she said, still smiling.

"Last night. It was great for me. I mean 'if' it was for you too?" I said, clarifying things.

"Well of course it was good for me," she said. She forced a smile that was so phony, I couldn't help it, I laughed.

"What?" she said.

"You didn't cum did you, I mean even the first time. It wasn't all that good for you was it; really. You didn't even enjoy it, doing it with me, did you?' I said.

Her expression suddenly morphed from pseudo-smiley to serious.

"Irv…"

"What's going on, Izzy? What's going on! Until last night we hadn't done it in almost three months. And last night, well, it was like you realized how long it had been and decided to maybe, what, make amends, do your duty. Right?

"Minnie really did advise you to fix things between us didn't she? Please, the straight of it. Whaddya say?" She dropped back into her seat. She almost seemed relieved. Yes, relieved, relieved that I'd caught her.

"Irvin Davis… " she started, but then stopped for a long moment. "Yes, Minnie and I talked about you. You know like I told you yesterday."

"Yes?" I said.

"Irv, I have a confession make. Actually more than one, and you need to shut up and listen. I have to get it all out in one go, and it isn't going to be easy for me. Okay?" she said.

"If it's that bad, maybe you should rethink your decision to tell me," I said.

"No, gotta get it out. Gotta," she said. "It's time." I nodded.

"Okay, it's your-our funeral-I guess," I said. She grimaced at my words.

"Irv, Minnie was here yesterday, as I told you, and she did advise me to do you right last night. I decided to take her advice, and for the record, I'm glad that I did. You deserved it and a helluva lot more of it besides. But, that said, Irv, I have a big problem with the way you've turned out to be these past almost four years. You're a wimp Irv, a candyass of heroic proportions. You're smart, but you have no get up and go." I could feel my face cloud over.

"That it," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

"Almost. Irv, I'm going to tell you something that will undoubtedly hurt you. Can't be helped. But, I will no longer hide anything you. You deserve better than that. Hell yes, you do.

"Irv, I have a lover. His name, if it matters, is Hardin Karpis. He's a good guy. I don't love him, but he does fill a need I cannot deny. I'm going to keep on seeing him. If you want to stay married to me; well, I will be thrilled to death. But if not, Irv…"

"It's the highway for me. That about it?" I said.

"Yes," she said. I nodded.

"Well, at least I got one last good piece of ass before you fucked me over. I'm figurin' it might be a while before I get another. So I thank you for that!" I said.

"Irv, really, Hardin does not have to be a reason for you and me to end it. Think it over before you do anything rash, please," she said.

"No, I'm already gone. You're working 5:00AM to 1:00PM tomorrow, right?" I said.

'Yes, but what does that… " she started.

"I'll be leaving in a few minutes. I'll be shacking up at a motel someplace for the night. But, I will be back tomorrow morning to get my stuff while you're at work. Please don't change your schedule and be here. I couldn't handle that. Really. Okay?" I said. She nodded, I think she was starting to cry. But, hell, so was I. "I hope this friend of yours is worth it."

And I did pack an overnight bag and I did leave in less than fifteen minutes and I was brokenhearted and so was she; and then, I began the "climb" into the absolute heights of rock bottom-and so what if that is a non sequitur.

Neither of us had any close family. A few distant relatives here and there, but no one to notify or to be concerned about in terms of our divorce. It had been part of the reason, I suppose, that we'd gotten together and done the matrimony thing in the first place: we needed each other, we had no one else. And even that, the marriage ceremony, had been in front of the justice of the piece with Minnie and John Fowler standing in as witnesses. And, now we were done.

******

It occurs to me that I have said little of our situation or described us at all.

I'm Irvin Davis, my friends call me Irv. Isabel, Izzy, Davis is my soon to be ex-wife. Izzy is pretty; tall, at five-eight; slender as a willow branch; great butt; and A-cups that give her, along with the rest of the package, the look of a teenager. Her hair, by the way, is brown and of medium length. Me?

I'm okay looking, I guess. Height-wise, same as my wife at five-eight, but medium build, and definitely A-cups, no tits at all really. Hair, brown like hers and still with me.

We are both twenty-eight years-old, no kids, a nice little two bedroom apartment, and two three year-old cars-both Chevys if it matters; but mine's a Silverado hers an Impala. I work as a software salesman at Ritter Inc. Average maybe 31K annual. She's an assistant manager at MacDonald's. Earns right at 28K annual.

And that, for what it's worth, is pretty much us on the eve of our divorce.

******

"I don't know, John. She's kinda fed up with this lackadaisical way of living and working. They're doing okay financially, if not wonderfully, but Izzy wants more. And, I'm not even sure that's right. But, I am sure that she wants more effort from her hubby, her otherwise soon to be ex-hubby," said Minnie.

"Wow, that's a shame. I really thought that they'd grow old together. I guess one never knows about these things.

"So you'd advised her to do what, exactly," said John.

"To do him and to do him right and that immediately. I think she will, but I'm not sure her heart's really in it," said Minnie.

"Well, one can hope, I guess," said John. "You know, I could talk to him if you think it might do any good." She shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess you might if the opportunity presents itself and making sure it doesn't appear that we are trying to interfere in their personal lives.

"Okay, if an opportunity presents itself," he said.

******

The Price-wise Motel was a "wise" choice for me: cheap and close to work. I would be able to walk to work in good weather which would be good. In my current emotional state driving would be at best ill advised.

Four years of mostly happy times. Well, except that the last year and a half, as I now realized, had been increasingly downhill as far as our sexual relationship was concerned. I had to believe that her extracurricular relationship with this Karpis guy was the reason for that, but who knew for sure. Well that, and except for the fact that she clearly thought me a wimp, I could not really guess why she was so down on me, but then again, apart from her thing with him. But, maybe that was enough by and in itself.

I felt empty and alone and needed someone-really her-to be with me. Thinking about it all now, I wondered if I would not have been better off accepting her offer and becoming her knowing and willing cuckold. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. But, no, I would have been torn up inside knowing she was out doing him on any particular evening. I'd been bothered enough wondering why she had become so distant from me as it was. But knowing she was fucking someone else, and probably talking smack about me behind my back, no, that would have been even worse than what I was going through now. I had to get my act together, and do something about being a better man, more of a man; Clearly, my Izzy didn't think me one or not much of one. But how to do it? Hell I didn't know.

We'd had no children, Izzy and I. We had talked about having them, but in the end Izzy had been of the opinion that it would be best to wait until we were better off financially though as for me I thought we'd been doing well enough; but, it was what it was, and completely moot in view of our current situation.

******

"You're working kinda late tonight, Irv," said Annie. Annie Campbell was our common girl Friday. That is the sales force's aide and secretary; there were six of us under her wing.

"Yeah, kinda behind on my paperwork. You'll be getting it tomorrow, hopefully," I said.

"Hmm, yes. You okay? You look a little down," she said.

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking," I said. I turned back to the computer I'd been pounding away on hoping she wouldn't ask any more questions. I knew for a fact that I would breakup if she did. I got my hope, my wish. She headed back to her station to finish up whatever she'd been working on.

I looked up at the clock. It was 5:40. I'd always gotten off at 5:00. It had occurred to me that I was usually among the first to leave; today I was already the last.

It had been six days since my break up with Izzy. I'd left work as usual the following Monday. Tuesday I'd stayed a half our off the clock. Today-Wednesday-I figured to be headin' out after 7:00. Work, I had discovered, was cathartic.

Yes, being at work was cathartic. Work kept my mind on things other than my lost love. Yes work was a catharsis, but unfortunately my work production was not much catharticized; I was behind big time; bonuses would likely not be forthcoming.

******

"So you gave him what he very obviously needed, but it blew up in your face. Is that what you're saying?" said Minnie.

"Yes-well-not exactly," said Isabel.

"And that means…?" said Minnie.

"Well, yes, it was what he needed, and it is what I gave him, but then I kinda outted myself," said Izzy.

"Oh shit. Or, should I say no shit!" said Minnie.

"But, I told him, assured him, double assured him that Hardin was no threat to him," said Isabel.

"But?" said Minnie.

"I did tell him I was going to keep on seeing Hardin, and well, Irv didn't take that too well," said Isabel.

"Oh well, that's surprising as hell-not," said Minnie. "And he walked out on you, just because you were adamant about keeping your lover. Gee, how freakin' narrow minded of him."

"Yes, frankly it was-is," said Isabel. Her friend nodded. "It's only the physical stuff with Hardin. Hell, Irv should have seen what I said as taking the pressure off of him. And, as I also intimated to him, my outing myself was going to result in him getting a helluva lot more attention too. He shoulda been cheering inside if not exactly showing me how happy he was that I was offering him a way for the both of us to be-if not exactly thrilled about things-at least satisfied. But oh no, he has to see it as some kind of threat to his insufferable male ego."

"So what do you do now?" asked Minnie.

"I don't know. If he were to come back, I guess I would try a little harder to get him to understand. I just don't know," said Isabel.

"And if he doesn't come back?" said Minnie. Isabel shrugged.

"Then, I guess we'll be getting a divorce," said Isabel. "It's his decision to make. Like I said, I let him know that I would be thrilled if he would commit to staying married to me. But, he opted to dump me instead."

"No he didn't and you know it," said Minnie. "You made the decision to allow him but two options, neither of which were very appealing from a man's point of view," said Minnie.

"I guess," said Isabel.

"I did talk to John about you two. He's willing to talk to Irv if you want," said Minnie. Her friend shrugged.

The two women started at the slamming of the back door.

"Hi, you in there?" said the man.

"Hardin! What are you doing here!" said Isabel.

"Hah! You'd like to know the answer to that one wouldn't you," he said.

"Hardin!" said Isabel.

"I saw your husband checking into a motel across the street from the Hard Hat. I was playing some pool and having a couple of brews with Max Jethcote," he said. "You two have broken up haven't you?"

"Maybe, not sure. But I can't believe you risked coming in here without so much as a how-do-you-do or a by-your-leave. You don't know; he could've been rethinking his decision to dump me even as you drove over here. So, you can't stay. You gotta get outta here right now," said Isabel. His smirk was evidence of his resolve to ignore her, at least for the moment.

"What happened?" he said.

"I outted myself. It's more complicated than that, but I do not have the time nor the inclination to discuss it right at this moment. Okay?" she said.

"Oh and hi, Minnie," he said, as he moseyed over to the frig. "Got a beer in here, Izzy?"

"Hardin, no, not for you. Those are Irv's beers, not yours. Get the heck outta here before…"

"Before what," Izz," he said. "Before you find some other nine-incher to do you up right?" He snickered his contempt for her show of bossiness. He continued scanning the frig for his quarry.

"There it is. I like your soon to be ex-husband's tastes," he said, pulling a PBR from its hiding place.

"Take it and go," she said. "Call me tomorrow at work. But, now you gotta go. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, okay. But if you outted yourself, I guarantee he will not be coming back tonight if he ever does. He's gotta be cryin' in his beer right about now about losing a piece as good as you.

"Anyway, Izz, Minnie, see you all later," he said. He disappeared the way he'd come, taking a swig of the PBR as he went.

"Kinda full of himself isn't he," said Minnie as the door closed behind the man.

"There's no kinda about it, but unfortunately there just aren't all that many nine-inchers out there to choose from, so I grant him some latitude," said Isabel.

"He gets latitude, and Irv gets ultimatums. Hmm, gotta say, you might be wantin' to reassess your priorities, girlfriend," said Minnie. Isabel sighed.

"Yeah maybe," said Isabel.

******

I was sitting in Mac's, and no not my wife's venue. I liked the quarter pounders; well, I could afford them. I didn't notice him at first. But, he noticed me.

"Hi yuh Irv," he said. "Mind if I sit with you for a few?"

"John! No, of course not, have a seat," I said. "What brings you to this establishment dedicated to the more refined elements of Scottish cuisine?"

He snickered. "Yeah, right," he said. "No not the food. I'm kinda on a mission of mercy."

"A what?" I said.

"Yeah, Minnie told me to come talk to you," he said.

"Minnie? Huh?" I said. Then, I began to come around to his purpose. He could see I was on to him.

"Yes, you got it. Minnie asked me to talk to you about the thing with your wife-and-her boyfriend," he said.

"I don't know what you know, John, but she wants me to be okay with her fucking another man and that regularly. Some guy named Karpis," I said.

"Yes, I know. Minnie thinks he's short term. Thinks you'd be over the top to dump your marriage over Isabel's playing. But, I gotta tell yuh, I think you're the one in the right here. Izzy is a great gal, but sometimes maybe, well, maybe not all that bright. Minnie thinks that if you hang in there that she'll come around and be properly remorseful for her crimes of a sexual nature," said John.

"I don't know, John. I need a one man woman. Isabel isn't one of those. More's the pity," I said.

"Yes, but you can't fight the evil dragon if you're not there to do the fighting. Anyway, I'm here to ask you to think about it and to not go off the deep end until you have," he said.

"I'll think about it, John, but, it is more than doubtful that I can bring myself to sit at home while she is out on a date with the guy; even with, the promise that when she returns that I will be handsomely rewarded; I mean if you get my drift," I said.

"I'll tell 'em, well, Minnie. And for the record I do know where you're coming from," he said.

******

The Hard Hat was pretty much just that: a hangout for the guys who worked in 'em, hard hats that is. It was just across the street from my motel room. It was where I had determined to spend my off hours ruminating over the disaster of my home life, my marriage.

What I kept coming back to, remembering those final minutes of my marriage, was the dichotomy of the two streams of thought that my wife had presented me with. On the one hand, she had earnestly contended that she would be thrilled if I would stay with her, and accept her dalliances as little more than play. But, on the other hand, that if I could not see my way clear to accept her terms, that divorce would be the inevitable result.

Logic would have seemed to dictate that a divorce, would have at least for her, have a result at least as thrilling as my acceptance of her cheating on me. Hence, follow up logic dictated that I get out of Dodge. And, so I have.

Wonderful it is to be oh so fucking logical. But what wasn't so fucking wonderful was the indisputable fact that my logical choice had left me at least as miserable as I might have been had I stayed and been her willing cuckold.

I had the feeling, the thought, that Isabel loved me on some level; but that, whatever it was that I really lacked, left her needing to fill a need, that I never had or even maybe could, fulfill. I was sick at heart, lonely like nobody ever was, and no longer gave give a rat's ass what happened to me. I just worked, and that not very well, and then worked some more. I guess what I was really doing was killing time waiting to die. For damn sure I had no life, none that mattered at any rate.

******

It was early, a little after 7:00PM announced the wall clock with the red and white label of Budweiser emblazoned across its face. I'd just arrived and commandeered my now usual seat at the end of the bar.

"How yuh doin' there bub?" said Cody Williams, bartender extraordinaire, as he poured my second JD. I gave him my usual exasperated look.

"Not as good as I will be after maybe my third or fourth one of these," I said. Cody smirked.

"Yeah, well I can dig it," he said. "So you say your wife's got a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, some guy named Karpis," I said.

"Karpis? Hardin Karpis?" said Cody.

"Yes," I said. I watched as Cody's eyes floated to his left eight or ten seats down the long bar. So that was my replacement. A couple of inches taller than me, but kind of paunchy. He was talking to some blond arguably ten years his junior. Looked like my replacement might be a player.

I Pulled my cell phone and took a pic. I hoped it would turn out to be a good one. The blond moseyed away from his sexmanship. I had an idea, an inspired idea actually.

I headed for the pillar where one slotted one's quarters to play songs on the computerized music machine. I'd gotten a couple of bucks' worth of quarters from Cody. I could play five songs. I chose two, and turned around to the man seated at the bar behind me, yeah, none other than Hardin Karpis who was watching me: that was my cue.

"Got a favorite?" I said. He smiled.

"Yeah, I do," he said. "Making Memories of Us," by Keith Urban. Well, I couldn't fault his taste in Country music. I punched in the numbers and added a couple more songs. They started to play.

"Your taste and mine seem to be alike," I said, trying to get him into a conversation to see what I could learn.

"That right," he said.

"Well, Keith Urban, anyway.

"Saw yuh talkin' to that pretty blonde a while ago. She your sister?" I said, laughing.

"No, just a local prostie, goes by Carrie. Comes in here once in a while trolling," he said.

"She may be a hooker, but she sure is a looker," I said, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, she is I guess. But, got me a regular piece, don't need no pro," he said.

"Wish I did," I said. "Well, some got it and some don't I suppose. I'm one of the have nots." He laughed.

"You're not a bad lookin' guy, you'll find you a honey," he said.

"Yeah, well, I hope so. I'd be satisfied with almost any woman so long as she wasn't married," I said.

"No-no-no-no-no," he said. "Marrieds are the best. Usually they're just in it for the sex. No commitment and somebody else is payin' the bills.

"My honey's married. Got a wimp for a hubby who has just lately left her because he couldn't deal with the fact that she was seeing me; she essentially told him to tolerate being her cuckold or to get out. He opted for out."

"Really?" I said.

"Yes. She'd pretty much cut him off these past few months anyway. He wasn't worth a shit in bed, or so the woman says," he said. "He edged close to me and whispered what I suppose he thought was a big assed secret.

"The woman says his cock is about the size of an average man's pinkie-her words." I could feel my face cloud up. I'd been sick to my stomach before, but now I was even more so.

"At any rate," continued my rival, "he 'was' paying her bills, but according to her, truth told, he barely made enough scratch to even do that. She said he was kind of a loser. Said she loved him, she thought, but kinda glad that he's now out of the picture. I'll be moving into her house in a few days. Hey, it's free and unrestricted 'pussy'," said mister Karpis.

"Wow! You are a lucky stiff for sure," I said. I needed to get out of there before I started to out-and-out bawl. It was without doubt the worst day of my life: I'd discovered what my wife really thought of me and none of it was good.

******

Work became a chore after my education by mister Karpis. I mean it had always been a chore, but now it was more than I could handle, at least not easily. The good news, or, maybe it was bad news, was that it soon didn't matter-I was fired.

"But, mister Marks…"

"I'm sorry Irv. You've always been a dependable employee, but lately you've kinda disappeared from the radar, and at a time when I'm being forced by upper management to cut payroll. I can no longer afford to keep you on staff.

"But… " I started. He held up his hand as if to say that there were no 'buts' that would make a difference.

"I'm afraid you'll need to be out of the building by day's end, Irv. See Annie for your final check. I have included a letter of reference for you. I'm afraid that's that best I can do, Irv. Best of luck to you," he said.

He nodded for me to leave and busied himself with paperwork of some kind. I guess he was kind of embarrassed to have to let me go. And as bad as the news was, I couldn't bring myself to hate the guy. Hell, I knew I hadn't been up to snuff since the breakup with my wife. And just like that, I was unemployed. I left his office on wobbly legs.

This was bad. Not only had my wife screwed me over, not only had I no home, I now had no job. I guessed Isabel, my Isabel, had been right to dump on me. It sure looked like I was indeed the nothing she thought me, that as reported to me by mister Karpis.

The rent on my little motel room, and yes, I was still hanging my hat at the Price-wise motel, for the next fifty-four days were paid: I'd paid for three months in advance so as to not have to deal with paying the rent every month. Hell, the room was cleaned daily, and utilities were included; except for my cell phone which service would soon be cancelled.

At any rate, having paid my rent up in advance worked for me now because I would need a little time to get me another job, one I would not be taking for granted, no sirree; I told myself.

And then it was day fifty-three and I still had no job. I was young, at 29, and not without some skills, or so I thought, but no one was hiring-at least not hiring me. And, then I was on the street with a wheeled suitcase packed with everything I owned of any consequence, mostly clothes and a few personal items. I'd probably need to be getting me a grocery cart pretty soon.

Some might be inclined to ask why I hadn't fought harder for my-our-apartment and its accoutrements. Simple, I didn't make the bread to pay for the place and all of its expenses by myself on my own; and, for that matter neither did Isabel, no doubt the reason mister Karpis was being allowed to move in with her-well-one of the reasons anyway. That and the hurt I was feeling militated against me wanting to stay in the place alone with all of its memories, both good and bad.

Adding to all of that, I was confused. There was no doubt Izzy was smarter than I was that contrary to what John Fowler had said. Hell, she was an assistant manager where she worked, probably going to be manager before long; then, she'd be making more money than me, well, than I had been, maybe 40K annual. I knew Mac's was a good company to work for in most respects. At any rate, when I left, I took only the things I'd be needing on a daily basis. The only thing extra I took was our wedding picture; she'd looked me askance, when I'd done that, but she'd not tried to stop me. Why that item when we were clearly done, as I saw things, as a couple? A no brainer, I still loved and needed her more than anything.

Whatever, I was out on the street now, and I didn't much like it.

I was able to eat free once a day at the downtown rescue mission, an area crowded with losers like me. And on really cold nights, and it was getting to be winter, I was allowed to sleep in a nearby covered truck park and kind of act as an unpaid security guard at the place-Allied Cargo. Actually there were two of us allowed to sleep there. Mister Hal Hensley, the boss at Allied had looked with a sympathetic eye on us. Alexander Barclay, a guy even more destitute than I was, was my compadre in poverty. We'd met at the mission and decided to be each the other's backup: the streets weren't the best, and certainly not the safest of places for indigents like us.

And as bad as the days were, the nights were infinitely worse. All I could think of was Isabel and our toasty bed with us curled up tightly against each other. I missed her more than anything. But, that said, when I did dream about her, my thoughts were uniformly interrupted by the image of mister Karpis banging her with his huge sex engine and the two of them both laughing at me. Those thoughts hurt, a lot.

"What you thinking about, Irv?" said Alex.

"Same as always, her-and him," I said. My bud nodded.

"I can dig it. Women! You can't trust 'em worth a damn," he said. My turn to nod.

******

"So he's two months behind in the rent on the place?" said Hardin.

"Yes, I called his office and found out he didn't work there anymore. I guess he got a job somewhere else, but as to where-well-I just don't know. It's taking every dime I make to just keep the place now. And, being two months behind in the rent, well, I might have to get a second job just to get by," she said.

"You need to divorce him and get on with things, Izzy.

"But, anyway you and I made a deal: if he didn't keep up the payments I would; I mean since I live here now."

"Let's go out and celebrate our new and upgraded situation," he said.

"Let's," she said.

"Evening, Cody," said Hardin. "This is Isabel my squeeze. Couple of red wines if yuh got 'em."

"You too," said Cody. "Nice to meet you ma'am. And, Hardin, you know I've got 'em," said Cody, heading off down the bar to fill the order.

"Good 'ole Irv never brought you here before?" said Hardin.

"No, we didn't spend a lot of money going out, and if we did it was usually just to eat, hardly ever to drink or dance or anything like that," she said.

"Well, now that you're my full time woman, and I'm payin' the rent; we will be doing stuff," he said.

"Your full time woman am I?" she said.

"Oh yeah, that sucker you were married to… " he started.

"Still am married to," she said.

"Yeah, I guess for now. But, he was crazy to move out. I mean leave a piece like you to graze in other pastures? Not real bright of him," said Hardin. The drinks arrived.

"Start a tab," said Hardin. "We're going to be here a while."

"Okay," said the barkeep.

"No, Irv would never be described as being all that bright, not stupid, but well… a good guy in a loser sort of way," she said. The two of them laughed.

Neither noticed the Bartender half listening to their exchanges. He knew that Irv had lost his job. He hadn't been in in a month because, as Cody knew, Irv was broke. He'd never met his wife until now, but he could see why he, Irv, was dispirited: she was a beauty.

"Tell me again about him trying to get you off," said Hardin. He was trying not to laugh outright, and, succeeding to some extent.

"He tries, he desperately tries. I'll give him that, but never has. I've told you that a hundred times," said Izzy. "His three and half inch dick just can't get the job done. I don't blame him for that. It's a physical impossibility for him. He's too quick, too small, and way too ignorant of a woman's needs," she said.

"You could have taught him," said Hardin.

"Did. He thought I was badgering him. I gave up. Anyway, he's gone. More's the pity. He was useful if only to pay the bills," she said.

"How's the drinks," said Cody, noticing that hers was almost gone and the guy's half gone.

"Yeah we can do with refills," said Hardin. He poured the drinks from the bottle he'd brought down the bar with him.

"You know a guy named Irv Davis?" said Hardin.

"Irv? Sure, used to come in once in a while. Came in more often after his marriage cratered. But no more," he said. "Not since he lost his job. Hear he's on the street now. A friend of his told me so a while back."

"He lost his job?" said Isabel. She had assumed that he had quit his job to get away, but lost it…

"Yeah, after his marriage went south; he seemed to lose interest in work, everything really; told me that himself," he said. Isabel nodded. "Sounded like his wife did him dirty." Isabel took on a sad look.

Neither of the two of them picked up on the fact that Cody'd pretty much ID'd Isabel as Irv's wife. He'd wondered off down the bar looking for an empty glass to fill.

"Jesus, my own personal pathetic asshole is on the street," said Isabel. "Gotta feel sorry for the poor guy."

Hardin was suddenly serious. "Yeah, really. That's tough," he said. Isabel looked him askance.

"I'm going to the little girls' room. I'll be back in a couple of minutes," said Isabel. He raised his glass in a pseudo toast to nature's call, she snickered and made to go.

"Another?" said Cody, coming up to him.

"Yeah, sure," said Hardin

"That's Irv's wife isn't it?" Said Cody. Hardin looked him askance.

"Yes. It is," said Hardin.

"He told me that you were the one doing her," said Cody.

"What? Told you-me?" said Hardin

"Yes, and you've met the man," said Cody

"No, never had. She talks about him a lot. I listen. Feel like I almost know the guy," said Hardin

"No, I meant you have already met him," said Cody.

"Huh-what?" said Hardin

"Remember some weeks back some guy asked what kind of music you liked," said Cody nodding toward the music machine down the aisle.

"No, I don't think so," said Hardin.

"Yeah, you told him you like Keith Urban's 'Memories of us'," he said. A light seemed to come on in his head.

"That was… " said Hardin.

"Yep. That was Irv," said Cody

"Oh shit!" said Hardin. That got a raised eyebrow from Cody who now took to touring the tables talking to the customers while his backup handled the bar.

He saw her returning from the little girls' room. She noticed his look.

"I've met him," he said, without ceremony.

"Met who?" she said.

"Your husband," he said. She looked surprised.

"He's here? Where?" she said, scanning the bar in all directions.

"No, I met him a few weeks ago. And, yes it was here," he said.

"What? How? When? Why didn't you tell me!" she said.

"I would have, but I didn't know it until now, just now.

"He was here. He was playing music," he said. There was a long pause. Hardin looked down, looked away, everywhere-anywhere but in her eyes.

"What!" she said.

"We talked," he said. "We talked about women."

"Huh? About women?" she said.

"Yes," he said.

"And?" she said.

"Well, a lot of it turned out to be about you as I now know. It was guy talk, you know," he said.

"No, I don't know," she said, growing more and more impatient.

"Well, you came up in the conversation and somehow we-I-got to talking about your feelings about your husband. Which, I hasten to add, I did not know it was him that I was talking to! Okay!" he said.

"What the fuck are you talking about!" she said.

"Well, I kinda told him some of the things you've said about him, thought about him. You know things you've said to me when we've been together," he said. Suddenly her look morphed from wanting to know what was going into something resembling horror.

"Oh my God! How he must have felt. Exactly how much did you tell him?" she said.

"Kinda everything," he said.

"Oh my God! Jesus Hardin! What were you thinking! Damn-damn-damn!" said Isabel.

"It just popped out. You know, guys braggin' and sayin' shit," he said.

"Can I ask, did Irv say anything?" she said. Hardin had to think for a minute.

"No, not really. He kept saying he wasn't much of a man and wished he had better looks, skills, stuff.

"I told him he was a pretty good looking guy. Told him he'd find someone sooner or later. I had no idea he'd already found you. Nothing, really, he didn't say much of anything," said Hardin.

"Oh boy, if and when I ever see him again, I am going to have to do some really fast talking. I gotta let him know that most of the smack I laid on him or to others about him was just sour grapes.

"Jesus, I did not want to hurt the guy. Sure as hell not more than I already have," she said. The man nodded.

"Yeah, I feel kinda bad too."

"Well, it is what it is. Hopefully there will come a day," she said.

******

The rescue mission was more or less gaily decorated for the day, Thanksgiving. But my mood was not gay. No family or friends to dine with, no party. But, the dinner would be pretty good actually, both turkey and ham and the usual fixins.

I did have a half pint of Jim Beam I'd been able to afford with the few bucks I was able to hold onto from the occasional clean up job at this or that store or bar I was able to get. I'd be enjoying it a little bit later. The mission did not allow drinking on the premises. I knew a few of the guys cheated on that rule creating their own version of coffee royale but not me. I'd be drinking alone though. My bud, Alex, wasn't available; he was in the freakin' hospital: a fall off the dock in the dark two days gone. He had a broken leg and a suspected concussion. He'd be in the indigents-only ward for a week at least.

I was going back for seconds when I bumped into her. She spoke to me.

"Hi," she said.

"Huh? Hello," I said. She looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place her.

"You come here too?" she said.

"Yeah, almost every day anymore, lost my job, wife, everything. Not much reason to work my ass off for just me. I mean if you get my drift.

"But, look, I'm sorry, but…"

She smirked. "You don't remember me," she said. "Gotta tell yuh that kinda hurts, well, a little anyway." My knitted brow evidently caused her to laugh.

"We never spoke but we were at the same place at the same time a while ago," she said. I looked her askance. "At the Hard Hat. I was talking to some guy. You came down to play some music and talked to him too. I saw you and wondered who you were."

"Yeah, I think I do remember you," I said.

"I heard him tell you that I did tricks," she said. "He didn't lie, I do, but not that often. I don't like it, but a girl has to survive. When I'm hungry, well you know." I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "I'd turn a few tricks myself if I could interest any women in the product. But, the product in my case ain't much in demand." She laughed.

"Hmm, well, be glad it isn't. Turning tricks can turn one's stomach. I speak from experience.

"Anyway, my name's Carrie," she said.

I remembered the whole scene now. Karpis had clued me that she came into the Hard Hat occasionally looking for customers.

"Well, nice to meet you," I said. "Say look. I'm here alone. You?"

"Me too," she said. "And yes, I'd like to share the meal with you." She'd guessed at what I was about to ask.

"It's hard being alone on these holidays, especially this one," she said. I nodded.

"Yes, it is hard and yes I'd be grateful for your company," I said.

Well, Thanksgiving wasn't exactly glitzy, and no there was no offer of sex for companionship. But, the way I looked at things as Carrie and I parted, after some two hours of being together, two things kinda made the day better than I had expected. One, the food was good. Two, I had a new friend if only a platonic one.

The upshot about having a new friend was the salient fact that neither she nor I had made any plans to see each other again; and, I'm not exactly sure why. Thinking about it later, I would come to believe that we would be seeing each other again, and that not too far in the future.

******

"You're looking kinda down," he said. She shrugged.

"No, not down, or maybe just a little. Just wondering where he is today, I mean the holidays can be kind of a major downer if one is alone," said Isabel.

"Izzy, you've got to stop all of this moping around about him. It's his choice that he's not here with you, well, with us," said Hardin.

"I suppose, but it is kind of a downer for me on some level anyway," she said.

"I can understand that, but today is our day. Minnie and John will be over soon; and, so will Marlu and Bob. If Irv walks through the door today, we'll treat him like the long lost family that he is and try to get him to sit down and reason with us. But, if not, Izzy; it's his loss. You and I love each other, and while you have so far refused to divorce the guy while he's in the straights that he's in and marry me, I know that in the long run that that is what is likely to happen.

"Irv's a good guy. And, he deserves to be treated as such, but there are limits. Okay?" said Hardin.

"I guess. Maybe," she said. His look of frustration was obvious to her. She did love him, Hardin; well, she was pretty sure she did. But, she also loved her "loser" husband. Would she sooner or later divorce Irv and marry Hardin? It was a possibility, but…"

******

It had gotten cold. The neon standard in front of the bank, down the street from Allied Cargo, read twenty-two degrees. Cold as heck, threatening to snow, and now I was alone. Alex having been released from the hospital decided to take to the rails and head south to warmer climes. And, yes a few guys did still ride the rails. But, at least I didn't have to sleep in some doorway, or worse, in the open.

Christmas was four days away. I needed a few bucks for booze and maybe a little extra food: one meal a day was kinda marginal if sensationally wonderful for my diet. At any rate, I'd been hoofing it for some minutes in the cold when I saw a sign for temporary help. It had indeed snowed, and that fairly heavily: I guessed that the town had several inches of it on the ground. I headed inside to enquire about the temp job. Ironically the place was a Macdonald's; and no, it was not the one my wife worked at. I was more than sure I wouldn't be meeting up with her.

"Yes, we're busy and we need someone to do a little cleaning up outside and to keep the snow shoveled around the doorway and the handicapped parking. Think you can handle that, Irv," said Frank-his name plate said Frank Asst. Mgr.

"Yes sir," I said. He showed me to the utility room, loaned me a parka that employees used when working outside-I had my own gloves-and I got to work. I'd just gotten off after some three hours and gotten $20 cash for my trouble when the manager came on duty. It was 11:00AM. She almost screamed.

"Irvin! What are you doing here!" said the manager. And oh yes, she was my wife!" I just stared at her. I must have looked like a complete loser-wino-retard something. My clothes, while not exactly ragged, were dirty, and my aging Nikes were muddy and bespoke poverty. I sure was glad that Frank had already given me my twenty bucks.

"Uh-nothing… " I started.

"Come in, come in now," she said. I looked around, unsure of my next move. But, it was very cold, so I followed her inside the atrium; well, it was out of the wind which was picking up.

"What are you doing here? Where are you staying? Jesus, Irv, I have to say you look terrible," she said.

"Nothing. I'm not doing anything. I was just on my way home," I said. Just then Frank came out.

"Hello boss. Irv here asked to do some of the temp stuff we needed done. I've already paid him," said Frank. Isabel gave him a positive nod which was the signal for him to withdraw. He did.

"Let's go into my office, Irv. We need to talk," she said.

"No, no, I've gotta get going. Got a lot to do," I lied.

"Look, Irv, the offer is still open, and I hope you're cooled off enough to accept it," she said.

"What offer? I've already done the cleanup. Frank said I did a good job," said Irv.

"No, I mean to be with me, us be husband and wife again, live together. But… " she said.

"But, your still seeing your boyfriend, right?" I said.

"Irv, he's moved in. And yes, I guess he is my boyfriend as you call it. And yes, we are sleeping together. But, if you come home you'll be in my bed at night and Hardin will be in the guest room. How about it?" she said. I was about to answer when Frank appeared once again.

"Boss the GM's on the phone. Says it's important," said Frank.

"Okay," she said.

"Irv, come inside for a moment. I have to take this call, but we need to talk some more," she said.

She turned and hurried inside. I hurried outside and away from there as fast as I could go. I didn't actually run, but I was walking at just a little below light speed.

Live with her with him in the house, listen to her screaming her pleasure as he fed her his nine-inch sausage? Not a snowball's chance in hell! I was gettin' along fine without her, and I would keep on doin' fine. Well, fine might be a slight exaggeration.

******

The neon standard in front of the bank now read nine degrees. Damn it was cold.

I kept going back to my most recent meet up with Isabel. God, she was pretty. She would always be that for sure. I'd essentially turned tail and run away from her that day at her new workplace, I hadn't had any time to think things through.

I was still as humiliated and hurt as I had been when she'd laid out her ultimatum to like it or hit the road. I'd opted to hit the road. At that time I was still employed, I had options, or, at worst I could develop options. I hadn't actually thought very far ahead of course which fact had finally ended in getting myself fired.

As I kept rubbing my all but frozen hands together in the farthest corner of the loading bay, I was finally doing what I should have been doing in the first place-thinking things through.

If I were to accept her offer of being in her bed, and yes even with her boyfriend just down the hall, I would indeed be humiliated and jealous and hurting real bad. That said, I was currently also humiliated, jealous, and hurting real bad. The difference? The only difference was that I would be seeing her ever day-and him too-while at the same time being warm and well fed. Was the price I would have to pay, seeing them together to be comfortable, worth it? That was the sixty-four dollar question.

It was another freezing day. It was 8:00AM. I watched as his car left, and waited a few more minutes before I went up the little path to the front door. I stood on the porch and knocked. She answered it, the door.

"Irvin! My God, you're here!" she said.

"The offer still good?" I said. "If not…"

"Yes of course, come in. It's freezing out there," she said. It was freezing and I did come in.

We headed into the kitchen. It was toasty. I shucked my overcoat, the only thing that had kept me from freezing to death the last month and a half.

"My God, Irv, you're so thin," she said.

"Yeah, been working out," I said. She smirked at my obvious and clearly ridiculous lie.

"You hungry?" she said.

"I could eat," I said, trying not to seem unduly desperate.

"Of course you're hungry," she said.

She spent the next twenty minutes putting together some bacon and waffles for me while I sipped the already made coffee. I noticed the mugs and dishes in the sink as she had poured me a cup. They'd obviously had breakfast together. If I stayed, and I was planning on it; I'd be seeing a lot of their-his-dishes and mugs in the sink.

I didn't exactly wolf the food down, but I didn't waste any time either. Well, I was hungry, and she knew it. However, she had the grace not to comment on it.

While I ate she kept up a more or less continual chatter about how glad she was to see me, and expected that she and I would be doing very good in the days to come. I made comments from time to time as seemed called for or during this or that pregnant pause in her monologue.

I wiped the detritus from my lips, took a final sip of coffee and leaned back in my chair. She was suddenly pensive.

"Irv, it is so good to see you, really. But, Hardin is still here and will remain so. You do realize that, right?" she said. I nodded.

"But, as I said those months ago, he will not have any impact on our relationship, yours and mine," she said. "I can promise you that." I nodded. It was not the time to cause problems. I was shaking in my emotional boots, but I was out of choices. I either accepted my status as her cuckold or I would have to be satisfied with my little cave in the truck park of Allied Cargo for the foreseeable future.

"Yes, I understand," I said. "I promise not to make waves." She nodded, and I suppose her nod would have to be described as hopeful.

"It's been what, nine months since you left. Right?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"Can I ask-well-would you be interested in… " she stopped talking and opened the bathrobe she'd been wearing and thereby exposing her breasts to me. I swallowed hard.

"Yes," I squeaked. "I mean of course." She smirked

"Thought you might," she said. "Come on." She rose and stretched out her hand for me to take. I did and she led me into the front room. Her robe was completely open now exposing both her breasts and her bald mound and the slit that divided it. God she was hot.

"You are so hot," I said, my tone almost trance like.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "But, Irv, You will be getting sloppy seconds this morning. I mean I didn't expect you, and…"

"Okay," I said, "I'll try not to notice." I was attempting to be flippant, and she evidently appreciated my effort.

"Well, good," she said. "Now strip for me. I want to watch you." I obeyed her command.

Naked, I walked to my wife and took her in my arms for the first time in many months. We kissed and felt each other up for some minutes as we stood in the center of the living room just a few feet from the couch.

I pulled her down to the floor with me. She lay on her back, smiled, and spread her legs as wide as she could. I needed no further encouragement. I mounted her and slid inside of her easily; she was obviously still well lubricated from her morning fuck with her lover. I fucked her for what seemed half an hour, but was more likely something like six or eight minutes. I shuddered and unloaded my pent up cum inside of her.

I rolled off of her and lay panting. I was still hot to trot if the truth were known. Well it had been a while.

She used her robe to wipe my still semi-hard almost four-inches dry and began teasing me up by stroking my cock oh so lightly and tickling my balls. It took a little while, but hard again, she rolled over onto her belly and raised her buttocks a few inches inviting me to take her from behind. The second time around I lasted at least ten minutes and she made it, orgasmed.

"Feeling better?" she said, as we lay side by side on the carpet.

"Lots," I said, and that truthfully. I knew things would change later, when "he" came home from work, but at that moment I felt safe and content if not actually happy.

"Good, and that's the way it's going to be from now on," she said. "It is going to be my business to make sure you are happy and fulfilled and not having to feel jealous or unloved or any of it. Okay?" she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said.

"We need to shower," she said, "Together. You stink and as for that we both have the stink of sex on us. So let's go. She led me by my stump of a penis upstairs to the bathroom.

For the first time, even counting the day I left those nine months gone, I was ashamed of my cock. It was true that she'd drained me. But, even so, her hand completely covered its girth as she pulled me along to the shower.

"I will be moving his things into the spare bedroom a little later," said Isabel. "You're my husband. You have rights. One of them is to be my mate in the master bedroom at night, not him. You can feel good about things, Irv. You are definitely number one, not mister big dick."

"Okay," I said. "I appreciate that."

I presumed she'd likely be calling him to appraise him of the new reality as soon as she could. I wondered how things would play out when he realized that we'd already met. The thought made me smile, but it was a sardonic smile.

My old clothes, and there were a lot of them, had been moved into the guest room, after mister Karpis had taken my place in the master. Now, mine were transferred back even as she moved his into it. I made a mental note to make sure that certain items I'd left behind the last time would be with me if I ever felt the urge to leave again.

******

Isabel and I were sitting together on the couch when we heard the back door open and close.

"Well, this is it," said Izzy, "the moment of truth." She giggled. He stopped cold in the doorway.

"Wow!" he said. "You didn't call."

I guess, I'd been wrong about that one. She'd had opportunities, but had not given him a heads up. I thought that interesting. Maybe I really was number one after all if not the only one. I guess I felt good about that. Good for the moment anyway.

"No, I wanted it to be a surprise. And, in case there was any doubt in your mind, my husband has already had his sloppy seconds. You can have thirds if you are up for it. Okay?" she said.

He laughed. No, I think I'll wait till after you've showered," he said. Now it was her turn to laugh.

"Just kidding, he and I have already showered-together," she said. Now, everybody laughed, even me, though in my case maybe not as enthusiastically as the two of them.

Dinner was simmering on the stove and Izzy announced that we should adjourn there, to the kitchen. We did.

We ate and talked pretty much about nothing. Nobody asked me about my time on the streets, and nobody brought up Hardin and their time together; no, it was mundane and nothing and maybe best described as surreal. Dinner done everybody waited for someone to do or say something about what was to come next. Then, she took the initiative.

"Your clothes and personal stuff are all in the guest room, Hardin'. Now that my husband is back we'll go back to plan 'A' if you remember. Okay?" she said. I nodded, and so did Hardin, though in his case maybe a bit slower than in my case.

"It was clear that Izzy was doing her level best to ensure that I knew I was numero uno. I had to appreciate her allowing me that bit of face saving at the very least. I wondered how my rival for her affections was taking it-really. I figured we'd, I'd, know soon enough.

It was still early, and she walked him to his new digs and followed him inside. They were there for a good hour plus. I had no illusions. She was demonstrating for my benefit-and maybe his-how it was going to be.

Ironically, I was kinda glad she was in there doing him. I needed time to think, and that was ne'er impossible with her on my arm.

In the days immediately following my return things were kinda mellow.

Things were mellow, but I was not idle. I had things to take care of. The main thing was to get myself reemployed. It actually ground on me a bit that Hardin was the one still helping to pay the bills instead of me. I was figuring that since he was in the guest room instead of me that it ground on him too.

I would be doing my best to get my job back, my old job. And this time, if I were able to get it back; and now knowing, as I did, why my Izzy had held me in such contempt, I would be doing my level best, and more than my level best, to be a success. I was pretty sure I could do it, but well, now I had to prove it to myself.

******

Herman Marks was a good guy. Everybody at Ritter Inc. loved him. But, good guy notwithstanding, Herman required maximum effort in a very competitive industry: software design and sales.

I'd been an okay-read nothing extra-sales agent when last employed there, but then the disaster of my domestic situation caused me to not make the cut, when the pink slip man made his appearance, and I was let go.

But now I had something else to sell-me. Or, more accurately that I could not only do the job, but do it real good. Annie waved me in.

"Good luck Irvin," she said. She winked and gave me the high sign. I nodded to her, took a deep breath, and entered.

"Good afternoon, Irv. How have you been?" said my ex-boss.

"Good sir, good," I said. A long moment of silence followed. He broke it.

"Irv, I know why you're here. There could only be one reason. So, sell me on the idea that rehiring you would be a good idea," he said. I took another deep breath.

"Sir in this past year, well ten months, I've been going through a lot. Mostly just personal stuff. You know with the wife and what all. That's all behind me now. I not only know I can do the job, but I know that I can be an even better agent than was the case before," I said.

We talked long, more than an hour. By the time we shook, I was back on staff, but that provisionally. I was going to have to produce and hopefully better than I had before. I didn't even go home. I started making calls from my office-the same one I'd had before-less than ten minutes after we parted.

Part of the reason that I had been rehired without a lot of fuss was totally extraneous to anything I presented to mister Marks at our little sit down. Competition for good sales people was strong. Ritter had lost four agents to other companies in the month before I'd returned. I not only got rehired, I was rehired with an expanded territory. It was exactly what I needed to inspire me.

I worked hard and long; and, in less than six months I was promoted to regional sales boss. I had six other agents under me, and when they made bonuses, a piece of their action accrued to me. In short by the end of another year, my income was well-nigh double what it had been in the old days; well, those I considered were and saw as the old days.

Of course, as one might be tempted to imagine, my success was more than heralded by my rival for my wife's affections: Hardin Karpis: he who had heretofore been paying the bills that I had not, was indeed happy. Happy because I was no paying the bills. Isabel too seemed to glory in the fact that I was a much improved breadwinner.

Also on the plus side, I'd even installed a new deck in the back yard, an expansion to the patio. I think that Isabel saw that as a commitment on my part to her program; she was wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's how she saw things.

Sex during the same year's time was regular and satisfying if not actually exciting for me. My bitterness had to some extent dried up even if my jealousy, hidden though it was, had not. Every time she wandered down the hall to the man I cringed. When I heard her animal grunts and screams of pleasure, and she never screamed for me, I gritted my teeth. Our arrangement, her arrangement, couldn't last. I mean she liked him in at least one sense better than me; that was the kicker, and that was something that I just could not figure a way to overcome.

She lay naked and beautiful and spread eagle on our bed with my cum leaking out of her pussy. "You did good tonight," she said. "Are you okay?"

I think she had noticed that I was a little less enthusiastic than I had been early on. She wanted reassurance that we were cool. It had till that moment been to my advantage to promote just such a feeling of semi-contentment. But now…

"The sex? Yeah, it was good. It always is with you. But… " I said.

"Irv, I'm sure you noticed that I have been bending over backwards to make this arrangement work for us-and Hardin," she said.

"Yes, I have to give you that. But, I'm pretty sure that you had to have noticed that I am still not comfortable with the situation. The difference now is that I no longer have my head four feet up my ass. I know what I have to do and what I can tolerate," I said.

"And that is?" she said.

"I'll be moving out, Izzy. I'll be doing so immediately, tomorrow. You and Hardin will have a clear field now, no more having to fake orgasms with me. And, you won't have to worry about me losing my job or living on the street anymore either, and I know you did worry and feel sorry for me. And, I appreciate that you did.

"I've got my act together now. I love you to death, Izzy; you know that, but not enough to share you. I hope you understand where I am coming from," I said.

"No!" she said. "You can't leave. I need you. You know that! Hardin isn't you."

"I seem to remember you saying that, if I didn't, couldn't, accept you having a lover that I had to sit still for a divorce. Well, that's where we're at now, Izzy. I can't sit still for you having a lover anymore. So, I guess you'll have to go and get your divorce," I said.

"Oh, Irv, You need to rethink things. We've been doing good. You know we have. We can get by this. We can," she said.

"No we can't, Izzy. No we can't."

We talked for some little time and then agreed to go to bed. I slept on the couch. She didn't much like me doing it, but I think she was of the opinion that I would cool off and she could make a better case in the morning. But, by morning I was gone to work.

"I'd be going back for my things, but I planned to do it when they were both at their work places.

******

I was sitting at my usual place in the Hard Hat. I saw Carrie, plying her wares. She was a cutie for sure though a trifle on the young side.

It'd been a couple of months since I'd moved out of the house for the second time, and some six months more or less since I'd laid eyes on Carrie. I was still getting phone calls from Izzy every few days. She would tell me stuff that was going on. Remind me of this or that holiday or special occasion that was upcoming and that I needed to come home for-I did tell her that I would spend the next holiday with her, and even with Hardin. What can I say; it was a concession to my all but deathless love for her. One such upcoming special day was our wedding anniversary. I promised to go to dinner with her-but only one on one-that day; I'd had to stipulate that that was day that had to be a Hardin-less or it was a no go. She agreed with my terms; I think she was planning to make her pitch yet again. Well we'd see.

At any rate, it had been some time since I'd gotten any, and seeing Carrie, and knowing what she was about gave me ideas. She didn't seem to be doing too well. I was in the chips again thanks to getting my job back. I know I looked a lot different this night: suit, tie, styled hair, probably smelled better too; hell, I know I did. I headed over to her.

"Hi," I said. She gave me the once over, smiled, frowned, and finally looked surprised.

"Irvin?" she said. "How are you!"

"Good. You cruisin tonight?" I said. She looked down.

"Yes," she said.

"I'm in the market," I said. She looked me askance.

"When I say I'm cruisin, Irv, I mean tonight is business if you know what I mean. I mean I need to make a living," she said.

"And what I mean is that I'd like to purchase your services." She looked me over.

"You look different. A lot different. Are you… " she started.

"I'm back among the living and producing," I said. "Five hundred for the night acceptable?" Her mouth dropped open.

"Uh-yeah-I mean yes. I mean are you sure," she said.

"Very," I said. "Yes." I handed her the money. She took it, and we left.

Her place was less than half a mile away from the HH. We headed there.

******

Carrie Jordan: blond, five-six, one-ten, C-cups, bubble butt, pale complexion and flawless, age twenty-six. She was soft-spoken: she'd have been a deep contralto if she'd been a singer.

She took a seat on the love seat in her front room and smirked in my direction.

"Well, sailor," she said. "What's gonna be on the agenda for the evening?" Suddenly I found myself-my until that moment self-confident self-at a loss for words.

"Cat got your tongue," she said. I stuttered a couple of guttural noises, cleared my throat, and told the truth.

"It's my first time," I said. "I'm not sure how to do things." I spread my hands in please help me gesture. She laughed.

"Okay then, this is it. No pain. Anything else you want is probably going to be okay. But, try not to be too quick or act like some macho asshole. Follow those few rules and you'll be fine," she said.

"Huh? No pain? What?" I said.

"Yes, no pain. Well, at least at my end. If you want me to spank you or if you are into any of that kind of stuff, I mean with you like on the receiving end of the strap. Well, that would be okay," she said.

"Guys really want that kind of stuff?" I said.

"You'd be surprised," she said. "And, yes, a lot of them do."

"Well, not me. I want to make love," I said. And, I meant it. She gave me a serious look. My tone of voice had gotten her attention.

"Hmm, Irv, you're going to get some serious sex tonight; I can promise you that; but love?"

"Yes, that's what I want. Love," I said.

"I've been doing this gig part time for the last couple of years, Irv; and no guy has ever asked for love. You do know what love is about, right?" she said.

"Sometimes I wonder," I said. "But, yes, I think so. Ever since Thanksgiving you've been on my mind. Tonight I am going to find out if I'm enough for you."

"What-huh?" she said.

"I can't get you out of my mind, Carrie-or-my heart," I said. "At first I thought it was just what I'm sure you're thinking it is: infatuation. I'm here to tell you that ain't it."

I was shooting off my mouth without having thought through a single syllable of what I'd just told her. And yet, I was certain that everything I'd said was absolutely true.

"I don't know where any of this is going, Irv, but okay, I'll give it a shot. But, don't' be surprised if in the end I send you away without whatever it is that you do in fact want."

She stood and came to me. She cupped her breasts and massaged them. The broad smile that creased her features dared me to take over the job. I did. And I kissed her. And I let my hands feel her butt, and press into its cleft.

"Like my butt, big boy," she said.

"Oh yeah. You can take that to the bank for damn sure," I said.

"Well then, get down on your knees," she said. I did as she commanded.

She turned around. "Now kiss it, big boy, kiss my ass; worship me," she said. Oh and I did my level best to do just that. This woman was hot; I mean seriously hot, white hot.

I lifted her dress and peered at her buttocks through the fabric of her white, full sized panties. I could see the cleft of her ass and smell her woman smell. I buried my face in that cleft and sucked on her panties soaking them. I peeled them down her legs and once again attended to her crease and her little brown place. I licked her and sucked her and was totally captivated by her and everything about her.

She turned around. "Now my pussy, little man, suck on my pussy lips and tongue fuck me like the little pussywhipped fellow that we both know you are," she said. And I was, pussywhipped that is. I did as she commanded me.

But minutes later, she took hold of my hair and hoisted me to a standing position and led me to the bedroom.

I took her missionary, and I took her slow. I wanted my fucking her to last forever. But, reality being what it is, seventeen minutes, by the wall clock, had to suffice. I blew into her a cyclone of cum. She'd made it too. Spittle dribbled down the side of her cheeks as she blubbered her pleasure. At that moment, the only thing I wanted to do was be with this woman for the rest of my life. The question now became, what did she want?"

******

"You know him? You've done him!" said Minnie.

"Look, Minnie, we've known each other since high school. Yes, you were a senior, and I was just a lowly sophomore. But, I was no fool then, and I'm no fool now.

"I know what's going on. The guy's got a wife who treats him like a pet. It's going to be her loss if she doesn't clean up her act. Look, I like the guy. Love? Doubt it. But who can tell at this stage of the game. Not me for sure: I don't believe in love at first sight," said Carrie.

"Carrie, I know the both of them. Yes, Isabel is an idiot. She's got a good man, and doesn't know how to handle him. He on the other hand isn't smart enough to know how to deal with her little quirks," said Minnie.

"Quirks? Little Quirks? She's got lovers, Min, and she is rubbing his nose in that little reality quite literally; and, he doesn't much like it, love her though he clearly does. If she loses him, somebody else is going to be right there to pick up the pieces. Will it be me? The jury's still out on that one. I like him, but he is kind of a candyass," said Carrie.

"Hmm, rubbing his nose in it? That might be something of an overstatement. She is trying to get him to a place where he will accept what she is doing and think of it as a good thing for him too. But that is, I will allow, turning out to be something of a challenge for her," said Minnie.

"Yeah, well it's more than something of a challenge for him too. Believe it," said Carrie. "You know where we met each other? At the freakin' soup kitchen. He was even more hard up than I was if you can believe it."

"Yeah, I did hear that he was hard up there for a while. Got that little piece of gossip from Izzy herself," said Minnie. "But, he's back among the living now, as we both know." Carrie nodded.

"Anyway… " started Minnie.

"Anyway, he's hers to lose. If she doesn't want to lose him, she's gonna have to give up her lover. If she doesn't give him up, then as far as I'm concerned it's a matter of getting there the 'fusstest with the mostest'," said Carrie.

"What? Huh?" said Minnie.

"One of my ancestors said that, or was supposed to have said that," said Carrie. His name was Nathan Bedford Forrest. But, that was 150 years ago.

"Oh," said Minnie.

******

And then it was our anniversary, Isabel's and mine.

The Cormorant Lounge was an upscale restaurant with a high class piano bar in the annex and a very good soft jazz and blues singer as the main attraction; Sinatra would have been impressed.

"Nice choice," she said. "I've been very much looking forward to tonight."

"Me too," I said.

"Irv," she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"Tonight is just for us. There is no one else," she said.

"Absolutely," I said. Tonight would be neutral territory date-wise. What happened tomorrow or any other day would be for then, not tonight.

We danced and ate and drank and danced some more. It was good and fun and memorable, and would be remembered in the months and years to come by the both of us. And, as it would turn out, it would be the last of its kind.

We carried on into the wee smalls; then, I took her home. Letting her out of the car, I held the door for her. She smiled her womanly appreciation. Gosh she was beautiful. I started to lead her up to the door. She held back.

"Walk with me, Irv?" she said. Well, it was a nice evening-morning now. I imagined that I was going to get the pitch; it seemed like a likely moment for such. And, it was a pitch that I got, just not the one I expected.

She took my hand. "We did good for a while, didn't we Irv," she said.

"Yes, I think we can say that much for sure," I said. "It's just that you and I; well, we have different aims, values."

"I suppose you're right," she said. "Irv, I've wanted to spend this night with you more than anything. But Irv, it's our last night. I'm going to respectfully ask you for a divorce."

The street was tree lined and we'd been walking slowly, casually, for a block or so. With her last words I stopped as did she. Well, we were still holding hands.

"A divorce?" I said, without any undue emotion. She nodded in the dim glow of the lamplight half a block distant.

"Yes, no more trying to get you to accept the-to you-unacceptable. I finally get it; I think," she said.

"You need a different kind of woman than I am. One who loves you just as much; and, for the record no one will ever love you more, believe it," she said. "I will likely marry Hardin this coming June. He's asked me. I've held him off. But, tomorrow I will give him the 'good' news."

I nodded. "Okay," I said. "I think you're right in doing this. And, I cannot think of it being done in a more acceptable manner, if that's the right way to say it.

"Thank you," she said.

"Lawyers?" I said.

"No need for one, Irv. Write me up something you think is good, and I will sign it and it'll be done. We'll file together at the court house," she said.

"Okay," I said. "Isabel, I love you. But, like you, I think it is time to end it. I wish you and Hardin every happiness."

"And I do wish you the same, Irv, I really do. And, I know you'll find the woman you need soon enough. I'm sure of it," she said. She had no way of knowing, but I already had.

******

There weren't many customers, it being a Tuesday afternoon. But the Hard Hat was entertaining two of its more regular customers.

"You say she dumped him?" said Max Jethcote.

"Hmm, yes, told him she wanted a divorce. She's going to marry me," said Hardin Karpis.

"Congratulations. A couple of cheaters getting it on permanently. Gotta love it," said Max. he laughed till his side hurt.

"We love each other," said Hardin. He was a little miffed at what he saw as his friend's downer attitude.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Remember, I've met her, know her. Izzy Davis is quite a piece, but not the kind of woman to ever stick with just one joy stick. You'll be a cuckold before the year is out," said Max.

The difference between me and old Irvin, is that that won't bother me all that much. Nine inches rules, you can trust me on that one," he said.

"Maybe, but other things might very well put the boff on even the attraction of your more than spectacular sex engine," said Max.

"Well, it'll be my job to see that that doesn't happen," said Hardin.

Minnie and John arrived at the same time as did Izzy. The trio spotted the two men in conversation across the room. The trio headed for the duo.

"Hello, Max, said Izzy," nice to see you.

"Hi Max, Hardin," said Minnie," joining the parade of greeters. John smiled and waved hello to the other men. The men muttered their usual mutterances concluding the greetings.

"Let's eat. That's what we're here for," said Hardin. The rest of the crowd enthusiastically agreed.

"Oh, I almost forgot, Izzy. Before we get too far into the more serious issue, you're your upcoming wedding, you do know that your ex has a new squeeze," said Minnie looking straight at Isabel. The look on Izzy's face said it all.

"No?" said Izzy.

"I told you he'd be picked up pretty fast if you ever dumped him," said Minnie.

"Hey, what am I, chopped liver," said Hardin. The women laughed, John looked pensive.

"Sorry, Hardin, you are certainly not chopped liver as Izzy has more than once assured me," said Minnie.

"Well, I'm glad," said Izzy. "Irv deserves a good woman."

"Hmm, she is a good woman. I know that for sure. But… " said Minnie.

"But?" said Izzy.

"She's a part time prostitute, or, use to be. I thin k she's quit the business since they've gotten together," said Minnie.

"Wait a minute," said Hardin. "It's not that same girl that comes into the Hard Hat from time to time is it?"

"The same," said Minnie. Hardin couldn't help smiling.

"So he had to settle for a lady of the evening," said Hardin.

"Settling isn't the way I'd phrase it," said John, joining the conversation. "She's gorgeous and very intelligent. I've met her through Minnie here; the two of them went to school together back in the day."

"No, no, I wasn't meaning to say smack about her; well, but, maybe I did, but I was not meaning to. It's just that compared to Izzy… " started Hardin.

"Yeah compared to a cheating whore of a wife, me," interjected Izzy.

"Minnie, you know her pretty good?" said Izzy.

"Yes," said Minnie.

"See if you can get them to come to a party next Saturday night. I want to meet the future missus Davis. They are headed for the altar, right?" said Izzy.

"Yes, and fairly soon, according to Carrie; that's her name, Carrie," said Minnie. Izzy nodded.

"Well good," said Izzy.

******

The party was in full swing when we arrived. I hadn't wanted to come. Being around Izzy and Hardin made me-something. And, that in spite of Izzy and my amicable break up. And, I didn't really need the something. Carrie and I were doing good and adding likely drama to the mix didn't excite me all that much-well-not in a positive way.

"Hi," said John Fowler.

"Same to yuh, John" I said. "Been a while."

"Yeah, my work keeps me busy pretty much 24/7," I do landscape work, but anymore it's mostly designing such. I travel a lot," he said. "Minnie asked me to have a word with you, and kinda private like." I nodded.

The two of us meandered away from the press of people. Carrie had joined a couple she knew and I'd been in the midst of doing some circulating of my own.

We ended up by the back fence. Most of the folks were milling around on the large patio-the one I had added to some months before. Well, the bar was there.

"So, what can I do for you, mister Fowler?" I said.

"As you may know, Minnie and Carrie are long time pals," said John.

"Yeah, so I hear," I said, "So?"

"Well, it's about Carrie's profession… " he started. My mood darkened.

"Carrie's profession?" I said.

"Yes, well sort of. Minnie and Izzy are best friends. Izzy asked Minnie about your new squeeze. So Minnie told her stuff. Anyway, Izzy feels awful about the stuff she did to you in the past, and feels, well, feels that you need to be made aware of her concern-Jesus! I'm screwing this whole thing up.

"Look, mister Davis. I'm supposed to tell you to be careful about getting to close to Carrie… " he said. I could feel my face clouding up.

"You've got balls, John. You can tell Izzy that I know all about Carrie's profession as you call it. And, at the very least she is a helluva lot better person than the lot of you all. She and I will be leaving now. Thanks for the invite, but no thanks," I said.

I strode to find Carrie and get the fuck out of hypocrisy city.

"I came up to a small group of women and saw my diminutive fiancé gabbing excitedly about girl stuff. I pulled her aside.

"We gotta go," I said.

"What? Huh?" she said.

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it in the car," I said.

We headed out. And just as she settled in and I slammed the door on her side, a waving Minnie with urgency written all over her came careening down walkway intending to block my path to my side of the car. She succeeded.

"Out of my way Minnie. Carrie and I have an important engagement," I said, as I reached around her keying my door's lock.

"Irv, you need to listen to me. Izzy was just trying… " started Minnie. "And engagement? What engagement?"

"A wedding and a life without any of you," I said.

"And as for the woman of the house, she has no business trying to do or influence anything when it comes to me and mine, and the woman in the car is mine," I said. Well, the spirit of what I was saying was true if not the letter: Carrie, noting the commotion, was already out of the car coming around to us.

"Honey? What's going on," she said.

"Our hosts seemed to think that I should think twice about being with you. Seems like their standards are too high to be comfortable with your used to be profession," I said. Carrie took on a kind of-what-tolerant smile maybe. Well, even if she were willing to tolerate their unasked for crudeness, I wasn't!

"Minnie?" said Carrie.

"Just a total misunderstanding," tried Minnie. I sneered.

I hustled Carrie back around to her side of the car. Went back to my side got in, gunned the engine, and pulled out just as Izzy and Hardin showed up at the curbside.

But, we were out of there.

******

"Can I ask you something, Irv," said Carrie. As we didn't quite careen down the road.

"Yes, of course. Anything short of actually having the lot of them hit, certainly," I said. She snickered.

"Do you really give a tinker's damn what other people think about you?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"My dad told me something before he died some years ago, and I've never forgotten it. He said, 'when it comes to how you see yourself, darling, the only opinion that matters is your own," she said. "I don't care at all what others think of me. I try to be a good person; and, as for my profession, as far as I'm concerned it's as honorable as any, and more honorable than many."

I looked at her and then I looked at her again. This woman had it together better than almost anybody I ever met, and, maybe there was no "almost" about it.

"I love you, Carrie. You are unique and wonderful and fun and pretty and well everything. You saved me. I will for damn sure be doing my level best to make our every day together happy and fulfilling and-well-worthy of you," I said.

She leaned in and kissed me. "We saved each other," she said.

"Hmm, maybe," I said.

******

The church wasn't full, but the two hundred friends, family, and coworkers in attendance were quite a crowd in any event.

Carrie looked beautiful as we took our vows. And, if I do say so, I looked pretty good myself.

And, before anyone asks, no Izzy and Hardin were not invited, nor were any of her crowd. As counter point to that, we had gotten a call, from Hardin, asking us if we would like to come to his and Izzy's nuptials. I think he was going to try and make what they'd done to us right. I hung up on him.

Yes, I know, all things considered, burying the hatchet might seem to have been in order. But, too many things had happened for me to care very much about Isabel Davis and mister Hardin Karpis. And with the final insult to Carrie, well, it was time to consign the lot of them to the status of strangers.

I had not heard from Izzy-nor any of her cohorts-since the day of the party at her house-that which used to be our house, hers and mine; and, I liked things that way.

Carrie and I stood atop the church steps letting our friends shoot photos of us before we hurried off to begin our honeymoon.

We headed off around the side of the church to where our car was parked. We had just gotten to unlocking it when another limo pulled up. It was another wedding party. The pastor was going to be busy today, I guessed.

The bride to be exited the limo. She was beautiful, and she was my ex-wife, Isabel Davis, soon to be Karpis.

The shock on her face might only have been matched by my own. Clearly she had not known that Carrie and I would have been tying the knot at the same church on the same day and that but an hour before she and the man who she had cuckolded me with did likewise.

I got in the car. I turned to Carrie. She was slowly shaking her head.

"Who would have thought it," she said.

"Not me for damn sure," I said. "But, on the upside, it will be a story we can tell forever more." Carrie laughed.

"For sure," she said.

As we pulled out, Izzy and two of her bridesmaids were standing in front of the side entrance to the church staring at us as we drove off. I figured that that, them staring at us, was fair; we were staring at them too.

-----------------------------

   Series:Jasmine and Achilles Jones
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Woman and man drift apart do to greerd and malaise , she cheats and he hurts inside--at first.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/a/Matt_Moreau
Published:2025-01-17
I was surprised. Rangers were supposed to be bullet proof; first sergeant had told me so in training camp. So there I was with a bullet lodged near my heart and a shard of shrapnel buried in my ass. What a wonderful way to get a ticket home-not.

That I'd made a herculean effort to fall on the nurse and shield her from the incoming even while she was prepping me to get the bullet removed from my chest didn't make me feel any better, her body did feel good under me. Laying there on top of her was how I got the shard of Taliban metal in my butt. At any rate, two purple hearts and a bronze star were not even close to fair recompense for having to leave my buddies to deal with the Taliban while I cut country. But, orders were orders; I was going home.

I'd spent six weeks in a veteran's hospice recuperating from the surgeries that I eventually needed. The good news was that except for some scaring, I was going to be fine. Hell, I'd even made corporal as soon as I got stateside; the pay was a little better and the perks a bit of an improvement too. I should mention that being a corporal in the Rangers was roughly the equivalent to being a brigadier general in any of the other services-no LOL.

Twenty-one, a corporal in the Rangers, some serious medals, and a whole lot of life experience: I was ready for the next big step, finding the right woman to share my life with. But, I was no fool. I knew I needed an education, and I needed a job too before I began the hunt for a mate. The GI Bill would pay for school, but, as for a job, I wasn't a lifer and I would be mustered out of the military in just another sixty days. I called my friend Drew Wilson.

Drew owned the Head Trip, a sawdust joint with pretensions to being a high class bistro where professionals hung out after work hours most days. Lawyers, doctors, a few cops, and some business types mixed and matched with the riff raff and got their tea leaves read by whatever bartender was on duty.

Most people don't understand the job description of a true professional bartender. A bartender is a friend, a psychologist, a philosopher, and sometimes even a bodyguard. Bartenders serve a vital function in the great cultural scheme of things. So, with the hand up from Drew, I became a full time, full-fledged barkeep.

Working and going to school became my modus operandi for the next three and a half years. I went to school online and got my B.A. in Philosophy and my M.S in General Psyche, all paid for by Uncle Sam. No, I had no intention of teaching school or becoming a Psychologist. I wanted the degrees to increase my value as a bartender, and eventually it did.

I was twenty-five. I was in great shape physically-once a Ranger always a Ranger. I was pulling down fifty-k annual, when tips were added in. And, I owned my own home. But, I was still missing the final piece in the fabric of my life, a woman. That final piece came at me at the end of a particularly grueling shift, that on one particular Friday evening.

******

"AJ?" said the voice to my left.

"Yes." Then I looked and a big smile creased my features. "Geezsus, Jasmine! How long has it been?" I asked. Well, I just needed to be saying something.

"Since high school big boy. And, you really are a big boy aren't you," she said. "I heard you joined the Navy or something after high school." At five-seven and 160, I wasn't actually all that big, but she could see that so I didn't mind the opening.

"The Army."

"Huh? Oh yes, the Army," she said. "But, you aren't with the Army now are you?"

"No, not for a few years now," I said. "Been working here for some four years plus."

"Well, you sure look good," she said. She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Uh-can I get you something," I said.

"White wine," she said.

I moved down the bar to get the wine, poured it and returned. I set it down in front of her, and wiped the bar to her left; well, it's a habit all we barkeeps have.

"So, you married?" she asked, smirking.

"No, haven't met the right girl, I guess," I said.

"Really, I would've thought that a handsome fellow like you would have been taken early on," she said, still smirking.

I appraised her. She was nice looking, not runway gorgeous but interesting. Maybe five-five, and one-ten. Her red hair flowed around her shoulders daring men not to stare. She had freckles that enhanced her pale complexion and a quick way of glancing around that was-disconcerting.

Jasmine and I had dated some in high school, and nights making out with her in the back seat of my Chevy would always be something I'd remember.

"How about you, you married," I asked, since she'd asked first.

"No, almost, a couple of times, but no," she said.

I smiled like the predator I was, "Wanna go out sometime?' I said.

"Sure, okay," she said. "I'm free Saturday. Oh, but that has to be a busy night for you," she said.

"No, as a matter of fact, I have my weekends off. I fill in once in a while if one or another of the crew gets sick, but basically my weekends are free," I said. "Just so you know, I'm on 3:00PM to 11:00PM week days."

"How about you," I said, "you working?"

"No, not at this time. I was, but not now. I'm thinking about getting a job though. But, still looking," she said.

We talked off and on for two hours; we filled in most of the gaps in our lives, and taken together there were a lot of gaps to fill in. Half a dozen guys hit on her while she was there, but she politely brushed them off. I had the feeling that she was a pro at handling the male element in most situations.

The date was made for 7:00PM Saturday. I would pick her up at her apartment.

******

"Well, girlfriend, tell me about this new guy in your life. Is it serious?" said Karen Olson.

"Yes, Karen, it's serious. I have some misgivings, but it is definitely serious," said Jasmine.

"Misgivings?"

"Yes, one anyway," said Jasmine. "Karen, he's only a bartender. He has two degrees and he only wants to tend bar; go figure. I'm concerned that he hasn't any drive or ambition," said Jasmine.

"Jas, it's not a nothing job. Maybe he likes dealing with people. Is he a heavy drinker or anything?" said Karen.

"No, not especially. It's just-I don't know-I just want more for him, for us," said Jasmine.

"Well, I think you're being silly. But, if it bothers you maybe you should look elsewhere for a mate," said Karen. "I mean you're going to be married for a very long time if you're lucky."

"Maybe you're right. I do want a man who is up to my standards. Achilles is a good man. He was in the Army too you know, but-well-a bartender! It just isn't what I'd envisioned that I would be married to," said Jasmine.

They talked for some time and then called it a night. The waitress brought the check. Karen studied her friend for a moment. "Jas, you need to figure out what's important to you. Don't string this guy along; it wouldn't be good for you or him in the long run."

"I know," said Jasmine.

******

"A lot different than when we were in high school, huh?" I said.

"Yes, it certainly is, AJ," said Jasmine. We were driving toward Lookout Point. It had been our favorite rendezvous when we were in high school together. I pulled into a darkened copse with a view of the Valley and all its lights.

Dinner at the Sportsman had been good, the wine excellent, and the conversation fluid if a bit tentative. I had an uncomfortable feeling that she wanted to tell me something, but was nervous about getting it out. But at the moment only the look and smell of her had any real meaning for me.

This was our fourth date. The first had been that Saturday night three weeks earlier. That had been a bit of an exercise in rediscovery. The next two had been marathon necking sessions. But, tonight, if I had my way, was going to be an epic sexcapade with damn little held back.

"You look very beautiful," I said leaning back against my door.

She was smiling; that was a good omen. She leaned in to kiss me. "Let's get in the back," she said. I immediately made a mental note to offer human sacrifice to the gods of Greece and Rome in thanks for the gift I was about to receive from their bounty.

One minute later, or less, we were in the back and hugging. Then kissing. Then touching and feeling each other up. Then kissing some more. She pushed me back and undid my belt and my pants. I started unbuttoning her blouse.

Her blouse and bra, the bra unhooked from the front, were open and hanging loose around her shoulders; her tits were exquisite. She pushed me back.

"AJ, I want to talk to you for a moment," she said.

"Huh! Now?" I squeaked.

She giggled, "Yes, now." I sagged back against the door literally pouting. Worse my dick was wilting like a flower in a snow storm.

"AJ I think I'm falling in love with you. If that scares you maybe you should tell me now," she said. It was a helluva lead in.

"Scare me? Taliban bullets didn't scare me, the roller coaster at the mountain is hohum to me, and a little piece of fluff like you sure as hell doesn't scare me," I said, smiling broadly. "The fact is, Jas, I fell in love with you about five minutes after seeing you again a month ago."

She looked serious. Now, I was worried. "AJ, what do you intend to do to support us if we go the whole route?" she said. I could tell from the way she said it that my remaining a bartender was not high on her list of career moves. But here I was determined to be a man not a mouse.

"I've got a good job now, Jas. I know it's not high class; but it's what I love. And, frankly, I'm good at it. Office work and all of the phony bullshit that goes with it is not for me," I said. "You have to understand that if we have a chance." I could see she was wrestling with herself.

"Okay," she said, "if it's what you really want and need."

She moved to me and kissed me and soon we were naked. And it felt good.

She leaned forward and stroked my dick to diamond hardness. She licked it up and down and I wondered where she had become so expert in tongue-teasing a man. I was going insane from the tension she was building in me. I exploded into her mouth and she swallowed every drop. My dick shriveled like a Styrofoam cup in a barbecue pit.

"My, you shrank kinda fast, big boy. Let me see if I can resurrect the dead!"

I was more than confident of her ability to do just that. It took her some minutes, but I was soon reassured that my confidence in her skills had not been misplaced. My cock brought back to life and its manly five inches threatening her womanhood, I gently pushed her back onto the seat and loomed above her. She was soaking wet. I wanted to go down on her, but I just couldn't wait to take her, so I did.

She bucked like a bronco and rammed her pussy back at me with every stroke I pounded into her. I lasted a good seven or eight minutes and she got off at least twice in that span.

We rested for a while and she got me up yet again. Stroking me, she leaned in and kissed me. "Take me from the rear, okay, AJ," she said.

I positioned her over the back of the seat and she spread her knees wide to accommodate me. I slipped into her and took long slow thrusts into her until I could tell from her short breaths that she was nearing still another orgasmic event. That one shook her. I think she started to cry. But, soon she was making weird noises as yet more spasms shook her to the core.

"Fuck that was good," she said, as she sagged back down into the seat.

We lay beside each other hugging and making unintelligible noises that were clear to us, but would have sounded like whale soundings to submariners.

After that night, I heard no more about my career choices. We dated three and four times a week, and after some six months I formally proposed and we were married three months after that. The ceremony was muted but elegant: our families, a few friends, and a nice reception. I loved her; she loved me, and soon she was pregnant. Nine months later the twins arrived: Marie and Tina.

The girls were our pride and joy. Jasmine was a stay t home mom until the kids started school-that was five and half years into the marriage. That point in our married life was the demarcation line. It separated our happy uncomplicated early days from the strife ridden years to follow. I didn't realize it at the time, but our problems had begun the very night of our girls first day in first grade.

I should have realized it. Half way through the semester, I heard Karen Olson giving Jasmine hell for something. When they saw me they clammed up; it bothered me, but since I had no idea what was what, I let it go.

That first day of school, at any rate, Marie and Tina were so excited telling mommy and daddy about all of the things that they did and a new friend that they had made and their teacher, Mrs. Hathaway, all of it. In bed by 8:00, the girls were asleep almost before I turned out the lights and headed downstairs.

"Girls sure are happy, AJ. I like that. It's good that they are so happy about school," she said.

I smiled and agreed. "You are so right. It's a good start," I said.

"They're happy, you're happy, I'm happy but… AJ, I want to get a job. You know, one I can do in the daytime while the girls are in school," she said.

I looked over at her. "You've never said anything about working, honey. Why now?" I said.

"The obvious. The house is going to be awfully quiet during the day, and I don't want to just sit around and be bored," she said.

I couldn't think of a good reason to tell her that she shouldn't do it. So, I said the only thing I could say. "Okay, honey, if it's what you really want to do. But we don't need the money," I said.

She hugged me, and we made love and then we slept the sleep of the blessed. The era of good feeling was not destined to last.

******

Jasmine eventually settled on a job selling real estate. She had to attend classes for a while in order to get her license; but she was a sharp student, and soon she was making money. Boy did she ever make money. Inside of a year she was making double what I was making. That fact and the fact that she never really had cottoned to my being a bartender began to undermine our relationship. I would discover later that-well-she was less than proud to be my wife. When I did find out, it hurt; it hurt a lot. And I heard it from Karen Olson.

******

It was June and it was getting hot. Summer was always a test for man and beast in the Valley. The temperatures could reach 110 routinely during stretches in July and August, and even September; but this year the heat wave was coming early.

I had arrived home a little earlier than usual. I had transferred to days, 10:00 to 7:00, the year before in order to spend more time with my family, and especially Jasmine. And I did, with my girls. But it seemed that time with my wife had improved only slightly if at all. Jas was not happy with my late arrival this night. She was however dressed to kill! But, not for me; I had a bad feeling.

"Okay, AJ, why are you so late? I left you a message at your work that I had a dinner meeting tonight with the corporate bosses," she said. That explained the clothes-sort of.

"Jas, I have a job too. I took off earlier than I should have just so I could get here now; we were busy! Sheesh! It's only 6:00PM. It's like you were never late, or had to work, right," I said, firing back at her. "And what kind of meeting is it anyway? You're dressed like a street walker for gawd's sake. You dating one of those big shots you're always sucking up to?" I didn't really think she'd be dating anyone, but I knew it was one way to push her buttons. I was a little miffed by her attitude. It had been weeks since she and I had had a serious date, and she never dressed like this for me. Yeah, I was a little miffed.

"Achilles Jones, you've no business talking to me like that. If it weren't for my job we wouldn't be living in this semi-mansion of a house. I need to be able to count on you to be home when you're supposed to be," she said. "Anyway, I'm outta here. We'll talk later. Bye." And she was gone.

"… if it weren't for her… "! Like I had nothing to do with our life together or hopes or dreams. Miffed didn't even begin to cover it, I decided. Something had to give.

The house had cost half a mother-in-law and it was paid for-with her money. I had kept my old place and rented it out. It was paid for too, but it was just a very small three bedroom in a very ordinary subdivision. The new place-hers, at least that was how I was beginning to think of it-was so fancy I was embarrassed to say I lived in it. But, she'd insisted we buy it. Said it would boost her chances of making partner in her firm. The real estate firm she worked for was the biggest in the state, and Jasmine was one of their best sales reps.

She'd been having these meetings once or twice every month for the past year. I wasn't thrilled with her being gone so much at night, but she really hadn't given me any choice. She had made it clear that I had no say in what she did on her job.

This night, I sent the girls to bed around nine. They were set to start their summer recess on Friday five days hence. There was to be an academic awards ceremony on Thursday night for their middle school at the Grissom, a five star hostel in the city. The twins were slated to get one award I knew about, but others were possible. Secrecy was the watchword. No one was to know who was to receive what award. Both Jasmine and I had made plans to attend.

It was 2:00AM when she got in. I was sleeping, but I awakened when she accidently stubbed her toe on the chair near the little antique writing table she'd bought some months before. She swore, I turned over and said, "Morning, late meeting, huh?"

"Yes, we socialized after dinner. But, I'm tired and my feet are killing me," she said. "All I want to do is go to bed and sleep." Code for there would be no sex-Like I would have been in the mood at 2:00AM. The really bad news was that we hadn't more than a quickie in months, and I had become more than a little disturbed by that reality.

Anyway, her "all" actually wasn't quite all. She evidently wanted to shower too. She was back in the room and toweling down her hair in the shadowy light from the bathroom in twenty minutes.

"Had to get the cigarette smoke smell out of my hair," she said, when she noticed I was watching her.

I turned over and went to sleep as she slid in beside me. I hoped it was only cigarette smoke she was getting out.

******

Thursday came and I had the girls ready. We were waiting for Jasmine to arrive; we were already marginal time-wise. The phone rang. I picked it up.

"Hello… Yes, we're ready… how long… what!… another meeting?… never again call me out for being late for anything…!" I railed at her. "It's your daughters' big night… yeah yeah, I'll tell them; they're used it." I hung up.

"Was that mom," said Marie.

"Yes, honey, she's sorry; but she has a business meeting tonight. She promises to make it up to you both on the weekend," I lied saying that. She hadn't promised anything. In fact she was angry with me for challenging her. But hell, I was at the "fuck you" stage too. Things were coming to a head, and there did not appear to be anything I could do about it.

I had noticed the number on the caller ID readout on the phone. It was neither her cell nor her office number. I decided to ring her back and ask her to try and make it for the end of the awards if she could. I hit the redial.

"Century Motel… " I hung up. Now, I was pissed. I was pissed and hurt. I still wasn't sure anything untoward was going on, but I was pretty sure that her big bosses were not holding meetings in motels. I called the motel back one more time.

"Yes, how much are your rooms for one night?" I asked. "And, do you have any conference rooms?" I couldn't help but smile at the answers I got. Thirty-five a night motel rooms and no conference rooms. There was no meeting going on; she was fucking somebody else, and shining on her daughters' awards night in order to do it. I needed to get proof.

******

The girls we excited. I was looking around to see who I might know, and Karen Olson came up to me.

"Hi AJ, the girls are all excited, huh?" she said.

"You bet. They're over there talking to their friends," I said.

"Jasmine, busy tonight?" she said.

"I frowned. Yeah, said she has meeting. The girls are disappointed, but it's like that a lot lately," I said. I was jabbering on to someone who I had no business jabbering on to.

"AJ, you really need to put your foot down with that woman," said Karen. "You're letting her do things she shouldn't be doing. Like tonight," she said.

I looked at her. I wonder how much she knew. And if she knew anything, would she tell me. I doubted it, but-I'd never know if I didn't just flat out ask.

"Karen, can I ask you something?" I said.

"The answer is yes, AJ, she is."

It was like she could read my mind. "Who?"

"Her boss, and he's an asshole," she said.

"Geezsus!"

"AJ, if you ever want a revenge fuck, I'm available. I know a good man when I see one," she said.

I looked at her as if she were from outer space. "Huh-yeah," I said. Lame, but it was all I could come up with.

******

In the motel room she was already in her underwear tugging on his skivvies when he finally mentioned the call.

"Had to check in with hubby?" he said, disdain clearly evident in his tone.

"Yes, we had something going on tonight. I didn't want him wondering where I was," she said.

"When are you going to dump that bartender and tie your wagon to mine?" he said. "You are clearly way out of his league."

She looked at him. "He's no fool. Don't ever imagine that," she said. "He just loves his work. Money and things don't mean anything to him, or not much at any rate."

"But they do to you," he said, knowing the answer.

"They do to me," she echoed.

She had his pants down and she reached for his cock and stroked it slowly and oh so lightly, just like he liked it.

He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her in tighter forcing her to take his entire seven inches in her mouth and down her throat. Two-point-three minutes later he spasmed and exploded in her throat filling it with his cum. She swallowed it all.

She rolled back on her heels and wiped the dribble from her mouth with the back of her hand. "Yummy," she said. he laughed.

He pulled her to the bed and turned her over on her stomach. He would take her from behind; their favorite position. It is how she surrendered to him; he was her man, her real man.

She spread her knees wide lowering herself for him. She felt the soft tip of his penis tease her. She giggled. She knew he couldn't deny her for long; he was hotter than she was, almost desperate in fact, and she reveled in her female power.

"Common now, be a good little boy and plow this woman," she teased.

He rammed his cock home and she let out a scream as he drilled her. "Oh my gawd!" she said. "Oh my gawd!."

He began slowly screwing her. He took his time. He wanted to enjoy her as much as he could. She was a good piece, as good as he'd ever porked.

She rose up on her hands and thrust her buttocks back to meet his assault. He was banging her good now, and her titties rocked and swayed with each thrust. She shook as an intense orgasm possessed her.

He emptied into her and she smiled as his seed washed her insides. She could feel the heat of it, and it pleased her. She thought of her AJ and how seldom he had been able to make her feel this way. At least in recent years.

It hadn't always been like that. No, there had been a time. She felt bad for him. She was treating him badly even if he didn't know it yet, and she didn't like it. Something had to give.

Finished they were dressing. "How often do you have to fuck him?" he asked.

"Not often. I let him get off maybe twice a month. But it's always a quickie, and then it's over. He never gets the real me anymore, only you get that," she said.

"Do you think he suspects anything?"

"No, he is very trusting." She frowned at her own words as soon as she'd uttered them. Yes, he was trusting, she thought, but she wasn't trustworthy. She felt uncomfortable admitting it even to herself, very uncomfortable. She suddenly realized that she couldn't do it to him anymore. She had to divorce him. The thought made her feel a certain sadness, but at the same time free. She determined to make it an easy divorce for him. Her AJ deserved at least that. Her AJ? Well, not for much longer; he'd be someone else's man soon enough she was sure of that. Rich he wasn't, but he had everything else going for him. Roger on the other hand…

Roger was her man now. It was time to give in to his wishes. No more sneaking around banging each other in cheap, sordid motel rooms.

He smiled his appreciation of her devotion to him. He thought about his previous wives, all three of them. None were Jasmine's equal. She'd be his sooner or later, and if things worked out the way he planned, it would definitely be sooner.

******

I heard her car pull in; it was after 11:00PM. Her heels clicked on the wooden stairs. She came in looked at him and begin taking off her earrings. "Hello honey, how did the girls do," she asked trying to placate him and anticipating his next remarks.

"Do you really care, Jasmine?"

"Honey, I'm sorry. I just couldn't get out of the meeting. It was too important," she said.

I eyed her. She looked at me, stopped fooling with her jewelry and just looked at me. "What?" she said. "I told you I had to be there. I would have come if I could," she said vehemently.

"Was Roger there," I asked, gambling that it was him she was cheating with.

"Yes, of course, he's my boss," she said.

"Was anyone else there?"

"What? What do you mean?" she said.

"I mean was it just you two or was it a gangbang," I said without undue emotion.

She stopped cold. She paled. Her look clearly stated that there was no way I could know. "You're not funny," she said, still holding to her line of bull.

"I wasn't trying to be. But, I know that the Century motel has no conference rooms; so I am pretty sure you all, all seven of you, wouldn't have been able to fit into one of those cheap little fuck-by-the-hour rooms they charge thirty-five dollars a night for," I said.

Her arms dropped to her sides. "You know don't you." It was not a question.

"I figured it out. So where do we go from here?"

I said. I was not prepared for her response.

"I'm relieved," she said. "I was going to talk to you tomorrow. You deserve to know. AJ, I want a divorce. I have fallen in love with Roger. I never meant it to happen, but it has, and I need us to part. I'm sorry."

I was stunned. But, I kept my cool. "You sleep in one of the guest rooms. The girls and I will move out tomorrow," I said.

"What? The girls?"

"Yes, we talked earlier. They want to stay with me. You can have open visitation, but at least with me, the custodial parent won't be missing any of their functions. Oh, and to answer your earlier question; They both received subject area awards: Marie tops in English and Tina in Math. Those, in addition to perfect attendance and citizenship. I mean in case you really do care a whit. Now, get out and let me sleep."

She stared at me, went to the closet, retrieved a nightgown and a robe and retreated out into the hallway. I thought I heard her sob as she exited, but I could have been mistaken.

The sun rose at 6:03AM. I was already dressed and downstairs making coffee; it had always been my time of day. I was pouring myself my second cup when she pulled out a chair at the table. "Can I have a cup?" she said. I poured her one and leaned back against the sink eyeing her.

She stirred in a teaspoon of sugar and looked up at me. "Can we at least be civilized about this, AJ. I know you're hurt. And I am the guilty one. I recognize that. But the girls need their mom. I can do more for them…"

"No, you can't and you haven't. But, yes we can make this a civilized transition if you do not fight me over the girls. We don't care about your money. And we sure as hell don't give a damn about good 'ole Roger. I have no problem with the divorce. You haven't been a wife to me for a long time. But, you and the asshole are not coming between me and my girls. Okay, the ball's in your court," I said.

"I guess we have a fight on our hands then," she said. "I will not give up primary custody, AJ. I can't."

"Your choice. Consider the battle joined. You probably shouldn't be talking to me anymore, nor I you. We're quits as of now; it's just a matter of the legalities being finalized," I said. I headed up stairs.

I had made my plans the night before, at least the initial ones, after she had called and I had discovered the tryst at the Century. I figured worst case scenario, and that's what I discovered that was indeed the fact of the matter, that I'd be moving out the next day-today.

I got the girls up and packed some of their things while they were showering and getting dressed. I took their bags and one I had packed for myself, and headed back downstairs. Jasmine was on the phone, probably to Roger, but I wasn't sure.

I took the suitcases to my car and went back to get the girls.

"AJ, you can't do this! Please do not make me fight you. AJ, you can't win; I'm the mother," she all but screamed.

"Tell you what, Jasmine, ask the girls. Here they come now," I said. looking her straight in the eye. "Ask them who they'd like to stay with. I will stand by their decision." I was sure the girls would stay with me, and it showed in my demeanor.

"What? I can't put them on the spot like that, AJ. What kind…"

"Then I'll ask them, Jas. They're almost thirteen. They know what's what almost as well as you or I."

The girls had reached the bottom of the stairs. They were looking at us nervously. "Girls," I began. "There is no easy way to say this, but last night your mom told me that she wanted a divorce. I have agreed to it; I really have no choice; she has a boyfriend, her boss." I was being cruel, but I was hurt and angry and I didn't know what else to say or do.

"Now, I want to say that this is all about us, and it has nothing to do with you girls. Your mom and I both love you. And neither of us wants to keep the other from seeing you-I don't think. But the problem remains, who would you rather stay with for the immediate future? We've decided that you should be allowed to choose, and of course, you can change your mind whenever you want." I felt like shit loading this on the girls' shoulders. But, a little pain now might avoid a lot more later, or so I rationalized. I had no inkling of what I was about to learn.

They began to fidget and Marie was tearing up. They conferred. Jasmine was nervous, and clearly worried. I was confident, and I must have appeared so.

"Dad, Marie and I love you so much. You are always there for us. But, I guess we are going to stay here for a while, if it's okay with you. We think mom needs us more," said Tina. My mind went blank. I had hot flashes. I think I began to sway.

I was stunned. The blood was rushing to my head and I felt like I was going to blackout. I choked up. I finally managed to find my voice, "Okay-I-daddy loves you." I had to get out of there. I went back out to my car and pulled their suitcases from the back seat them on the porch and left.

Jasmine looked at me; she wasn't gloating. If anything I think she was feeling pity for me. Well hell, I was piteous. I swallowed choking back my tears. "I'll come back tomorrow morning after 10:00AM to get the rest of my things," I said. "Please don't be here. Please." I left.

At least I had a place to stay. I was in between renters. I had been planning to clean the house up and throw some paint on the walls on the weekend. Now, I would be doing it for myself instead of new renters.

I headed for the Head Trip. I had to talk to Drew. I got the day off, and made the necessary rounds. I had to get my credit line worked out separate form hers, and change my will and other things. Drew recommended his lawyer, I called and made an appointment; the secretary said she could get me in before noon.

******

At noon, I arrived at the office of one Tanya Baker, esq. a little before 11:00AM. I had to wait for a little while, I was early. At 11:15 I was ushered down a short hall to an office.

Being shown in, I walked toward the desk and saw a familiar face. I couldn't place it, but I knew this lady.

She stood and extended her hand for me to shake. "I thought it might be you. I recognized the unusual name," she said. "I have long wanted to thank you for saving my life."

"Huh?" was my brilliant comebacker. "Ma'am? I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," I said. "Do I know you?"

"Well, Ranger, you should. Afghanistan, fourteen years ago. You fell on me and saved me from that incoming mortar round. The nurse?"

All of a sudden it came back to me. Yes-you-you were a nurse then-but now?"

"I was able to afford law school on the GI bill. So I went. Frankly, I can't believe our paths have crossed again. I mean-small world… " she managed.

"Do yuh think," I said, falling into the chair in front of her desk.

"I tried to find you to thank you after they rushed you the heck outta there. But you were long gone to Rhine Mein and then the states. I never knew where.

"So how have you been?" she said.

"Hummph," I managed. "Until last night okay."

"Oh, yes, I understand. I got a call from Drew. He said you had a problem with your wife."

"Yeah, you could say that. She's been cuckolding me with her boss and last night she laid it on me that she wanted a divorce. So, yeah, I have a problem with my wife," I said.

She nodded. "I see. No chance for a reconciliation?"

"No."

"Children?"

"Twin girls, age twelve, almost thirteen. They said they wanted to stay with their mom. I have to tell you; that one stopped me. I'm the one that is always there for them, at the games and events and happenings. Their mother never is. But when we asked them; they opted for her. I tell yuh, that one hurt-a lot," I said. I was starting cry; I got hold of myself.

She stared at me for the longest time. "It happens. If I had to guess, they did it to try and get their mom to start coming to their events and happenings as you call them. They doubtless figure that you will always be there, and if they were staying with you that their mom would withdraw even farther from them. I am pretty sure, going on experience, that their choice had nothing to do with you per se.

It made sense. For the first time in the last twenty-four hours I actually had something to hold on to. "Thanks," I said. "I hope you're right." I actually believed that she was.

We talked for some 45 minutes longer. The upshot was that she would defend my interests, and make sure that I got the best possible visitation rights with my children. There would be no money demands, although she said I could get alimony if I decided that I wanted to go for it. I told her no to that one, that I made enough. She said she wanted Jasmine to do the filing though; that way she, Jasmine, would be up against it for court costs, and for my lawyer costs too if things were to work out the way she thought that they would.

We were standing, shaking hands again as I prepared to leave. "Achilles, I owe you a dinner at the very least. How about it?" she said.

I was surprised, but pleasantly so. She was a very nice looking lady. "Okay," I said, kind of weakly.

"Good. Meet me tomorrow at the Cloister at seven?"

"Okay, sure," I said.

She picked up a card from the tray on her desk and wrote on the back of it. "Here's my cell in case. See yuh tomorrow," she said.

******

I knew I was early, well, I was anxious. I didn't see her come in. I guess she saw me sitting at the bar. She came up on my blind side. "Howdy, sailor," I heard from behind my shoulder.

"Huh!" She laughed at my obvious surprise; she'd startled me.

"Geezsus! Tanya, I almost had a heart attack.

Oh, and I am definitely not a sailor. Try Airborne Ranger. It's a whole different kettle of fish," I said.

"Wow, I guess I need to brush up on the proper protocol don't I," she said.

I laughed, "Darn straight," I said. The game was afoot. We talked for some minutes before the food arrived and Tanya was nothing if not quick witted and very intelligent-a whole lot smarter than me, I figured.

About the time the food came, I had had a chance to look her over pretty good. I hadn't until then, and I was surprised with myself. She was pretty, kinda nurse pretty if you know what I mean. She was a little wider in the hips than your average model. Breasts were a little on the small side, probably A-cups. Her tawny hair was curly, and flowed around her shoulders and that very nicely thank you very much. But, what I noticed most about her, was the way she smelled. That smell damn near enslaved me-she reminded me of Jasmine in that-I did my best to put the comparison out of mind.

Dinner over, the band began playing softly and a few couples got up to dance. I offered her my hand, and she accepted it-tentatively.

"I'm not that bad, really," I said.

"Oh no, it's me," she said. "I am that bad."

"Wow, such candor and honesty. Well, let's dance anyway and humiliate ourselves as much as we can."

At first, I damned near couldn't dance I was laughing so hard. For the next few hours we danced and talked and laughed and drank and generally avoided mentioning my impending divorce and my concern over the custody of my girls.

At 11:00PM I was beginning to think that it was time for a gentleman to take a lady home. "Hey girl, how are yuh doin'?" I asked. The evening had turned from tentative to fun to romantic. Her body had been melding with mine on the dance floor since after the first few dances. I hadn't at first thought too much about Tanya that way, though I am a man, and she was more than just an average female woman. But, now I was, thinking about her that way that is. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to get involved right at that moment considering my less than thrilling experience with womankind and intimacy recently.

"Good, how about you?" she said. I just smiled. Her expression turned serious.

"AJ, when are you planning to see you daughters next?" she said.

"Uh? Huh? Maybe next week. They have a summer softball league they're into. The game's on Saturday.

"Not before that?" she said. "I mean you're not goin to see them before that?"

"I don't know. I don't know if Jasmine will let them see me. We haven't spoken since I left last week," I said. "It was not exactly an amicable leave taking as you know. The girls opted to stay with her. I don't know what they were thinking. I mean I know what you said. And, it makes sense, but I don't know for sure yet. You know?"

"Well, I'm your lawyer, and I will be on the visitation issue first thing Monday. I know you and your wife are not doing too good, but I would be surprised if she tried to interfere with you seeing the girls," said Tanya.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right.

"Tanya? I have decided to play hardball with her about custody. And it's not even a matter of them preferring Jasmine to me. I just can't abide that man Roger being around my girls. If he is-I will be cutting myself off from them. I just couldn't stand him being there. You know taking my place. Do you understand?"

"AJ, you can't mean that. Those girls love you. I know it. You have got to let me handle things, okay?" she said. "And, that man will never be able to take your place, no matter what happens between you and your wife."

"I don't know, Tanya. Okay-I guess. I don't know. I just think about that slimy adulterous filthbag being around them, and… " I couldn't talk anymore.

She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me on the lips. It felt so right. It was stupid, but I felt as though the tables had turned. Once long ago I'd taken shrapnel for her to protect her; now, she was protecting me, at least it felt that way. And, I knew I needed protecting. The days ahead were not going to be easy for me.

******

The following Saturday, I was at the ball park at 10:00AM the game was to start at 10:30. I saw the girls arrive with my wife and the filthbag. I wanted to vomit or kill him, not necessarily in that order. Jasmine saw me and waved. I just looked at her stony-faced. She was the enemy, and he was the devil. I was scaring myself. The girls ran up to me.

"Hi dad! Hi dad!" they said in unison. They gave me kisses on the cheek and ran back to the dugout where their teammates were beginning to assemble.

The game was fun. I couldn't help myself from glancing in the direction of the lovers every once in a while. It seemed that each time I did that Jasmine was smiling at me, and it hurt. A sympathetic smile for me and pussy for him, it hurt a lot. I wondered what they were saying about me. I noted that Karen Olson joined them about half way through the game; I thought that odd.

The girls' team had won. But I did not. They were out there on the field cheering and jumping up and down in celebration. The team then broke up and ran for the bleachers and their families.

Marie and Tina ran up to the fence, waved to me, and then ran to their mother and good 'ole Roger. I just stood there. I must have looked pretty hangdog. One of the mothers looked up at me. "Mr. Jones? You okay?" she said.

"Uh-yes," I said. "I fought back the tears as I watched the girls and their mother and the asshole leave.

I had to sit and I did. I held my head in my hands and felt sorry for myself.

I was served with the divorce papers the next week. The negotiations were swift, businesslike, and for me hurtful.

Tanya was able to get me one weekend a month with the girls and summers; their mother would be getting them one weekend a month during my summer time. The big national holidays we would alternate starting with the Fourth of July next. As for the financial stuff. She kept her house, and I kept mine. No alimony. Whoever had the children would pay all while they were with them, so no child support, and that was about it. I was satisfied with it all except the custody split.

The twin's games were on nine consecutive weekends. I went to the next game the following Saturday, and Tanya went with me. I had told her of the way things had gone with the first game, and she had sympathized. Holding my hand, so to speak, she bucked me up.

The girls came up to me this time gave me a kiss, said they were looking forward to coming to my house in two weeks. We talked for a couple of minutes, and then they left to join their mother and Roger. I watched as they joined them. All four of them looked back at me. The only one smiling was Roger. I knew then that my hate for him would never die: he was coming between me and my girls.

Just before they turned the corner and were lost from my sight. My eyes locked with Jasmine's. Hers carried a message I could not fathom.

"AJ? you okay," said Tanya, bringing me out of my reverie.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "No, not really," I corrected.

The next Saturday came, and I didn't go to the game. I couldn't deal with seeing their mother and Roger. His gloating, and that's what it was, had gotten to me. That evening, I got a call from Jasmine.

"You missed the game," she said.

"You've missed plenty of them," I said.

"AJ, don't do this," she said.

"Do what."

"AJ we're going to be thrown together when the girls have things going on. They were very worried when you didn't show today; you've never missed. Marie cried. She's the emotional one, you know. And Tina, Tina was a nervous jervis! You can't not be there, AJ. They need you," said Jasmine.

"It's too hard for me when the asshole is there laughing at me. I just can't do it," I said, telling the truth. I was sounding like a teenager who'd been dumped, and I knew it.

"What? Roger? He wasn't laughing at you. He is as concerned as I am," she said.

"Bullshit! You just can't stop lying to me, can you, Jas," I had to get the dig in. I was hurting too bad.

"AJ, he has nothing to do with you and the girls. He's just-I don't know-there," she said.

"Yeah, laughing at me," I said, my bitterness showing through.

"Who cares what he does. Okay so he acted stupid last time. I'll see to it he stops doing that stuff in the future. Okay?" she said.

"Jasmine, you can't be that naïve. Goodbye." I hung up.

The following weekend I'd picked the girls up on Friday night. We went out for pizza. Saturday we went to the game. Their mother and the asshole were there, but they hardly ever looked my way. I guess Roger had gotten an earful; couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Sunday we stayed home and the girls and I baked cookies, and talked, and had a swim in the pool. I took the girls home a bit after 6:00PM.

The following weekend I came to the game, but only just before it ended. I noticed that Roger wasn't there. Jasmine looked over at me and smiled. It was a questioning smile. Well, some days are better than others, at least I didn't have to see him. The girls came up to me this time and talked with me.

"Daddy, you were late today," said Marie.

"Yeah, sorry about last week, girls. Where's your mother's boss? I said. I was hoping they'd tell me he'd been hit by a bus.

"He's home," they said. So, he was living with her. I knew it, I suppose, but it hurt to finally be sure. I let it go at that. We talked for a minute or two more and then they left to go back to their mother. Jasmine was waiting at the other end of the bleachers, and she looked concerned. For my part I didn't give a shit. I had the feeling she wanted to talk, but that was the last thing I wanted to do.

Every day the following week, I was down. I had no enthusiasm for anything. I hadn't decided whether to go to the girls' next game or not. I knew it was stupid, my acting this way, but I was powerless to help it.

In the end, I decided to go. I entered through the same gate I always did. I had to walk under the home team side of the bleachers for a few yards to get inside; it was kind of a short cut. As I turned to go up someone grabbed my arm from behind. I turned to see.

"Jasmine! What the…!" I said. "What are you doing here."

"I needed to talk to you and I know you wouldn't up there," she said nodding toward the seats overhead. "And, I wanted to talk to you without Roger seeing us."

"Oh, a falling out already," I said with a sneer.

"Cut the crap, AJ. You and I are getting a divorce, and that's that; but there is no reason for you to divorce the girls," she said. "You're being childish."

"Oh, and what are you being shacking up with a man you are not married to," I shot back.

"What? We are going to get married," she countered. Her saying it still hurt in spite of everything.

"Oh, and when will that be?' I said.

"Well, after the divorce is final, of course," she said.

"In the meantime you'll just shack up with the asshole. That about it?" I said.

"That's none of your business," I said.

"It is if it concerns my babies," I said. "Keep the asshole away from my daughter's events, and I'll have no problem coming, but with him here it is real tempting to tear his filthbag ass up!" I said, giving way to venting. I was being childish, but I didn't give a fruit picker's damn.

"Why are you being this way," she said allowing some emotion to show through on her side. "We need to get along."

"You hurt me, Jasmine, real bad. Cheatin' with that asshole. Getting along is not gonna happen, not for a long, long time if ever," I said. "Forced toleration maybe, but getting along is too close to friendship to ever be likely to happen between you and me. Figure it out, Jasmine, we ain't friends!" I stocked off.

Perversely, I felt real good; I mean real good.

"AJ!" But, I was gone.

The game went well, I glanced over at my enemies from time to time. Jasmine's expression was one of frustration, or maybe concern it was hard to tell. What was interesting was that asshole never looked in my direction even once. I wondered about that. I couldn't see him knuckling under to Jasmine all that completely, so I wondered what his motivation might have been.

The aftermath of the game was the same as it had been. The girls talked to me briefly and then left to join their mom and her lover. They did look a bit reluctant to go back, but it could have been just wishful thinking on my part.

I was working overtime at the Head trip on Tuesday evening when Tanya made an entrance, and I mean made an entrance. She was beautiful. Short black dress, perfect makeup, perfume of the kind that caused men to have sinful thoughts, and five inch heels that made her ass stick out so far, she looked like she was inviting the boys to butt fuck her right there in the bar.

"Howdy, Ranger," she said as she sidled up to the bar.

"Howdy back attacha," I said. "You look fantastic."

"Yeah, I got a date," she said, very seriously.

"Oh," I said wrinkling my brow.

"Yeah, he's a little slow on the uptake, but I'm pretty sure he'll come around," she said.

"I sure as heck wouldn't be slow if you were my date," I said.

"Thank gawd," she said. "I was afraid you weren't going to get it."

"Huh?" I said. She just looked at me, a smile began to spread over her countenance.

"Geezsus!" I said. "Okay, so I'm slow on the uptake. Give me twenty minutes. Want something while I get ready?"

"Wine would be nice. Anything," she said. I got it for her, made a deal with Hank who was also still hanging in there, and headed into the back to change into my emergency clothes.

"Geezsus," said Hank. "Sure I'll cover for you, but you have got to get me a date with her sister."

"I'll ask her," I said, laughing.

******

The Cloister had become our favorite place. We had adjourned there as soon as I could freshen up and get loose from the bar.

It was almost twelve but the place was still rockin'. We got a table, ordered drinks, danced a couple of slow numbers and headed back to the table. She stirred her martini, slowly with the stick. The olive impaled on the end of it seemed an extraterrestrial orb in a universe of clear plasma.

"So, how's it been going," she said. "I haven't heard from you in a while, days."

I shrugged. "It's all about the girls. I don't want that asshole living with them, not even."

She looked at me and seemed to understand. "Have you spoken to your ex?" she said.

"Not at any length. She sandbagged me Saturday, as I was coming through the gate to the softball field. She laid into me about the girls and my attitude about the asshole and well, my attitude generally," I said.

"And you said?"

"I told her I didn't cotton to her hypocrisy. I mean her shacking up with him," I said. "And, that was about it." She just nodded.

"Let's get out of here," she said.

Out of here meant to Hill Top Drive. I found a secluded parking spot with a view and she cuddled against me laying her head on my shoulder.

I stroked her hair and enjoyed the feeling. I lifted her chin, leaned toward her and kissed her. It was a sensual moment. I motioned her into the back seat. We crawled over the tops of our seats, like a couple of teenagers at the drive-in movie, and fell together in a heap in the back.

My hand, on her knee, began making slow circles a little higher up on her thigh. Gently, slowly, I lifted the hem of her dress and let my hand rest lightly on her leg just inches from her most secret places.

She moved her hands to the front f my pants and smiled when she found what she was looking for. She took her time pulling down the zipper. Freed at last his cock sprung out and pointed right at her. She leaned in a suckled on it. All five inches disappeared inside of her mouth, and she gurgled as it tickled the back of her throat.

I took my time searching her thighs finally making contact with my prize. She shivered and I pulled her panties aside and slipped a finger inside of her.

"I need you to fuck me," she said. "I need you to do it now." She lay back on the seat and splayed her legs over the backs of the seats thus opening herself to assault. I assaulted her without delay. She was tight. I pulled out and went down on her. I brought her to her first orgasm with my tongue; she was wet enough now. I resumed my original intent.

Poised at her opening I rammed it home; she uhhgged as I nailed her. She was a nine-point-seven on the wonderfulness scale. I screwed her slowly for some time. As I felt her begin to tense up I picked up speed. Finally, I drove into her as powerfully and as ruthlessly as I could; I wanted to master her. She arched her back and raised my body higher as she experienced a shattering climax at the same time that I unloaded an imperial gallon of cum inside of her.

I collapsed on top of her pinning her to the car seat. She wrapped her legs around me trapping me in my turn. We lay for a few minutes and then disengaged and sat up. My head flopped back onto the seat back. Hers lolled onto my shoulder. No words were said, none were needed.

We dressed and made to go back down into the Valley.

I keyed the ignition and stopped before turning the key. "That was good," I said.

"It certainly was," she said.

We were quiet on the way back. I wondered where if anywhere our little date might lead.

Pulling up in front of her condo building, I leaned back and looked her in the eye. "You doing anything this Saturday," I asked.

"Seeing you, I think," she said. "But isn't it your weekend with the girls?"

"Yes, and that's the point. I want them to meet you," I said. My meaning was clear. This night had changed a lot of things. I didn't have a mother to take her home to meet, but I did have twin girls.

She nodded her understanding. "You sure, AJ? I mean are you really sure?" she said. "We really haven't gotten to know each other all that well."

"Yes, we have. The only question I will ever have for you is the one I should have insisted on with Jasmine," I said.

"What question?" she said.

"Can you remain faithful to me? It's the only thing that matters when all is said and done, because it's the only mistake that there is no forgiveness for, at least for me," I said.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" she said, kinda smiling.

"Yes."

"The answer is yes. After the divorce is final of course."

I showed up that Friday evening at Jasmine's house-that's the way I thought of it now, to pick up the girls. I waited out front. Jasmine came out first. She wanted to talk.

"How are you?" she said, surprising me with her tone.

"Why do you care," I shot back not caring if she liked it or not.

"You hate me don't you?' she said.

"I hate what you did to me, and to us. You're a cheater, so is the asshole. I saw him looking through the window at me when I drove up. He's still here shacking up with you isn't he?"

She gave me her patented pissed off look.

"But, to answer your question, I mean do I hate you. Pretty much, but the pain is less and less each day. The good news is, at least to me, that I am absolutely certain that you two will be cheating on each other before long, and I'll be there to gloat. Just as you two did to me, you know, when you finally lowered the boom on me.

And, dearie, I will gloat," I said.

"AJ, I didn't gloat! I really didn't didn't want to hurt you. My gawd! can't you accept that," she said."

Accept what? Are you apologizing?"

"Okay, yes, you deserve at least that. I apologize. I made a cuckold out of you and I have felt bad about it ever since."

"Thank you, at least that's something." I decided to try for something I'd been thinking about.

"You know after the divorce is final. I'm supposed to have the girls for summers. Why can't I have them now. I mean it is summer, even though the divorce isn't final yet," I said.

She looked me with a question in her eyes, no, it was suspicion.

"At least they wouldn't be exposed to you shacking up with a man who is not your husband. And, I promise you, no woman will be staying over at my house until after I marry her, if ever I do," I said. "I will not set that kind of example for my girls."

"AJ, I can do more for them…"

"Because of your money? That has nothing to do with raising babies. It only has to do with physical comfort and ego," I said.

"I'll tell you what," she said. "We'll lay it out to them and ask them. How's that," she said.

After how the girls had reacted the last time, I was concerned. What if they just didn't want to stay with me. What if the glitz of their mother's money, and for that matter that of her boss, was more than they, being young, could resist. Well, we'd see just how deep their love for their 'ole dad was.

"Okay, yes," I said. "Do you want me there when we lay it out or do you want to do the asking? I'll leave it up to you."

"I'll do it. I'd really rather avoid any possible scene. But, I promise to try and not show any preference. Okay?"

"Good for me," I said. "Can you do it now? I can wait," I said. I knew I was pushing it, but hell, I hadn't been really rational for some time.

"Now?"

"Yes, it ain't rocket science. It's just moving the calendar up a bit. I miss them a ton, and the divorce won't be final until December. You'll have them back when school starts next month, anyway, regardless," I said. "I mean if they agree to it."

"Okay, I guess, I can ask them now." She turned and walked back up to the house. She looked back at me just before going in. Her look was one of-something.

I got out of the car and walked over the tree in the parkway to get into the fading shade. It was late afternoon, but the sun was still warming the air pretty good, and I felt like stretching my legs a little.

It was almost half an hour later that Jasmine came out-without the girls. She came up to me as I leaned against the tree.

"AJ, they said that they'd rather stay here until next summer. They cried. They're afraid you won't understand. They do love you. But, this has been their home. Their friends come here. They…"

I guess the look on my face reflected the shattering of the heart within me. "I-I have to go. I just can't-please, tell the girls daddy still loves them." My tears of disappointment betrayed me. I started crying big time. I ran to my car, got in and drove off. That was it. My old family was gone forever. I'd have to get on with my life and forget them all.

Geezsus, Tanya would be coming tomorrow expecting to share the day with me and the girls. Well, I hoped she'd still want to share it with me. But, in the state I was in, it was going to be very iffy.

When I got home the phone was ringing.

"Yes?"

"AJ, this is your weekend with the girls. Why did you run off. AJ, you have to be an adult here. I mean the girls love you…"

"Stop, Jasmine. It is clear that the girls love your money more than they love me. Or maybe it's just you more than me. I won't be around anymore. I will be getting on with my life. You have a good one, you hear.

"We had some good days too, Jas, I thank you for those."

"AJ, what are you saying! You can't cut them off like that. They're your babies," she said.

"No, clearly they're yours, and I guess his now. Treat them right. Goodbye, Jas."

I hung up. I had never felt so low in my whole life.

******

"Did he buy it?" asked her lover.

She nodded. "Yes, and he's hurt. I feel like shit doing that to him. He loves those girls. I betrayed him, and now he's thinking that they did too."

"If you hadn't gotten him out of the picture you would be fighting him over everything forever. He'll be better off. Now, he can get on with his life and not have to worry about children getting in his way," said Roger.

"I doubt that he'd think of it that way," said Jasmine.

"Look, be practical. Those girls stand to inherit your grandmother's estate now that she has died, I mean now, that her own children have passed on too. How much did you say it's worth?"

"Twenty million," said Jasmine.

"Yes, and do you want him influencing how they spend that cash or having a say in how it's controlled?"

"Well, no. But, I don't think he would care about the money. He really has no respect or desire for money at all."

"Exactly. He would be the last one you'd want messing with the kids' inheritance.

"You know he really isn't out of the picture. Maybe he is temporarily, but he will have remorse and be right back her wanting to have his weekends," she said. He's just upset at the moment.

"Maybe, but if he stays away for a while, a good lawyer and a friendly judge might find a way to minimize things in that regard," said Roger.

She nodded her agreement with his logic, but she was feeling more than a little guilty about her actions. She also felt a foreboding she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"What are we going to tell the girls? They're going to wonder why he wasn't here to take them to his house for the weekend," said Jasmine.

"Tell them the truth. Tell them their dad is not coming to take them this weekend, and then just play it one weekend et cetera at a time. Pretty soon they'll get the message and not worry about it anymore," he said.

"The truth? That's only half of the truth," she said.

"Just tell them, Jasmine. It's for the best, the best for everybody, even AJ."

******

I sat in the front room, a glass half full of Smirnoff blue label in my right hand resting on the arm of the couch. The phone had rung a dozen times, but I'd let it ring. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Whoever it was could leave a message or forget it. Forgetfulness was good, I thought.

Things had taken such a down turn. My girls, why had they done this to me. I was always there for them; she, their mother, never was. I guess the allure of money and the things that it could buy for them was too much. I thought I'd taught them better than that. I guess I had not.

Tanya would be over early, maybe 9:00AM tomorrow. What should I tell her, how could I tell her. The truth I supposed, the cold hard truth.

How long I slept I didn't know, but the clock on the wall said 4:00AM. My stomach was about roiling: too much Smirnoff blue. I decided to shower.

******

"Mom?" said Marie.

"I'm afraid so," said Jasmine. "He's just too busy this weekend, I guess." I'm sure next month it will be different. He asked me to tell you he was sorry."

The sisters looked at each other with stony faces. They were conflicted. They'd stayed with their mother instead of their dad because they thought she needed them more. They'd talked it over, and made the hard decision. And it had worked too. Their mother was there for them more. True, they realized now, they had neglected their dad, but he understood, they were sure of that. But-did he really?

"I don't know Tina," said Marie, a half hour later. "It's what she said. I told you a dozen times."

"We could call him. We have to call him!" said Tina.

"I tried, lotsa times," said Marie. "He isn't answering. I guess mom is right; he's just too busy." Marie began to tear up. Tina followed suit. They held each other.

"I was going to ask mom if we could stay over at dad's for the week," said Tina, between sobs. "I just can't stand being around butthead anymore. I think the asshole wants to pork us."

"What!" said Marie.

"You've seen the way he looks at us. He's always hanging around the bathroom when we take our showers," said Tina. "He's always got an erection when we come out and he doesn't even try to hide it. You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

Marie looked at her. "Yeah, I guess I have, but Dad would kill him!"

"Would he? He's not here for us now," said Tina. "Oh Marie, what are we going to do?" said Tina stifling yet more tears.

******

The morning dawned nice and warm. Well nothing else was going right, so maybe having a nice day would at least be something to cheer about.

I saw her car pulling up. Tanya got out. She had a grocery bag with her. How was I going to deal with her? I opened the front door for her before she had a chance to knock.

"Hi lady," I said, my voice betraying my upset.

She looked at me funny. "Something wrong, AJ?"

"Oh no, my wife is shacking up with an asshole, my kids don't even want to be with me on weekends anymore, and I'm coming down with a cold. But, the weather's nice," I said.

"What? What's that you said? I mean about the kids," she said.

"The short version?"

She nodded.

"I went to get them last night, and they opted not to come," I said. "I probably won't be going back there again. I guess my ex has managed to turn them against me."

"Oh, AJ, I am so sorry. But-I have to tell you, AJ, I have a lot of experience with this sort of thing; and I do not believe that your girls don't want to be with you, spend time with you," she said.

"Well, they're not here," I said. "Search the place if you like.

"I asked Jasmine if I could start my summers with them now. She went in and asked them. Then, I got the news that they didn't even want to come with me for the weekend. It hurt, Tanya, it hurt a lot." I started to choke up.

"Who gave you the news?" said Tanya.

"Huh?"

"Who told you that they, the girls, didn't want to send the weekend with you?"

"Uh-Jasmine. She came back out and announced that they would rather stay home this weekend, and that an early start to my summers was out." I said.

I looked at the woman across from me, and I thought I detected a kind of-nasty-smile. I couldn't read it or her.

"So, you didn't hear it from the girls?"

"No."

"And you never saw either of them?"

"No," I repeated.

"AJ, it is such a cliché. Those girls and you have been sandbagged by your soon to be ex, and maybe the asshole, as you refer to him. I'd bet a month's income on it, and I make a lot of money, AJ."

I began to feel-taken!

"At any rate, I am going to look into it. Something is definitely rotten in the state of Denmark," she said.

******

Tanya and I made a day of it. I had been down, really down; but she had a way of giving me hope. In fact I think that I was beginning to feel the first pangs of sympathy for my enemies, because, if the two baddies were screwing me around; then, they had awakened a monster that would have their collected asses in the proverbial sling.

Of all places, after having breakfast at Denny's-I always liked Denny's breakfasts-Tanya and I went to the zoo, just the two of us. It was her idea. She thought it would raise my still shaken spirits. She was right. I especially loved the black Jaguar; it reminded me of Tanya.

After returning from the zoo, we went to her place and proceeded to do things, that were so athletic, that I was sure they could get a receptive hearing from the International Olympic Committee. Gawd! she was good. I was so hot I rimmed her butt for twenty minutes before taking it. She mooed and oohhed and aahhed with the pleasure of being so adored.

******

Monday afternoon I got a call from her to come to her office. She had some information for me. Arriving, I could see from her expression that she was feeling real good. Good for me not for the enemy.

"You know a great grandmother named Rachel Parker?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. It's one of Jasmine's grands. I met her a couple of times. Nice old gal. She and Jas never got along very well. Seems that Jasmine's mother stole some family heirlooms. So the old lady said at any rate, and that Jasmine was in on it. Anyway, what about her?"

"Well, she died," said Tanya.

"Really? I didn't know. That's a shame. I think that Jasmine must feel pretty bad about it in spite of the differences between them," I said.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't know about that, but she left twenty million dollars, not to Jasmine, but to the twins!" said Tanya.

"What! How do you know? How did you find out," I managed.

"AJ, there is no doubt about it; Jasmine is trying to get control of that money. And, you gotta know her boyfriend is in on the plan. That's why she wants you out of the girls' lives. If you're gone, she has a clear shot at the cash, or at least a big chunk of it," said Tanya.

I shook myself. I couldn't get my head around the facts as they came at me from Tanya. "Tanya, I don't want the money. I want it in trust for the girls for when the complete college."

"You are entitled to $100,000 dollars a year to take care of the girls and their needs; you and Jasmine that is. The payments are to continue until the girls reach majority and can claim the money."

"Tanya, I mean I literally don't want the money, not a penny, not ever. And, I don't want the girls to have it either until they finish college. I want them to be able to think before they spend; otherwise they'll end up like some of these mindless celebs we hear about none of whom can find their pretty pink butts with both hands and a road map. You gotta help me out here, Tanya, you're the lawyer," I said, "do something!"

"I can try. But first things first. We have to get the girls back into your life, and I have a plan," she said.

******

The stranger entered the house with a key. Everyone was gone, but he wasn't there to see anyone; he was there to gather evidence. Not evidence for court, though that might turn out to be a possibility at some point, but evidence nonetheless.

The little brown satchel he carried seemed to weigh him down, but not overly so. Inside he mounted the stairs to the master bedroom.

Removing a number of things from the satchel he went about his business. He remained in the house for a total of sixteen minutes and left as he had come, quietly and in no hurry.

"Yes, AJ, he's done," said Tanya. "Every word will be recorded and transmitted here in real time. I'm betting that we won't have to wait long to get what we need."

"I sure hope you're right. I don't want that miserable asshole and their mother to get away with this. The money I would have given her, but she is trying to turn my children against me; for that there is no forgiveness."

Tanya nodded. "Okay, big boy, go home. I'll call you when we have anything." I didn't go home; I had to work, but she knew that. I guess in a way the Head Trip was my home. My cell rang at a quarter past ten.

"We've got it." Ducking out from work, I arrived at her office fifteen minutes later.

She smiled and waved me to a seat. "AJ, it's kinda embarrassing. If you want I can just tell you about it, rather than have you have to listen to it," said Tanya.

I slowly shook my head. I needed to hear it. She turned on the player.

"Roger, I am feeling bad about this. If AJ gets wind of any of it we're screwed just as we deserve to be," said Jasmine.

"No time to worry about little dick now, Jas. He hates me, for no real reason, and I think he is beginning to hate you too," said Roger.

"But the girls-they're in a truly blue funk over their dad not being around. I am pretty sure that they will try to contact him soon if they haven't already. If he takes the time to listen to them, and granted I know him and he is probably too stubborn to do so, but if he did, he'd figure it out in no time," said Jas.

"All we have to do is get by the reading on Monday. If he's not there, according to the conditions your grandma set out; he's out of the picture, and we're home free," said Roger.

"I don't…"

"But, you may have a point," said Roger. "We have to make sure that he misses that reading and signing. You have to play up to him," he said.

"Huh?"

"Meet him. Tell him how bad you feel. Tell him you'll work with the girls to get them to stay with him for the summer. Tell him it's just awful the way things have gone. You know, use your imagination. But get him to feel better and not too confrontational. Tell him he needs to be patient. Tell him to give you a week; it's all we need."

Listening, I felt myself die inside. Not only were they trying to come between me and my girls over money; they were conspiring to do it as cold-bloodedly as anything I had ever heard of.

I got the call the following morning. Jasmine wanted to talk. I felt the acid build up in my stomach. My wife, the woman I had loved, protected, and adored for years was not only betraying me a second time, she was doing it for reasons of pure greed. Did I ever really know her? It was clear I had not.

"I am so glad you agreed to come," said Jasmine.

I nodded. She'd been there two minutes, and already I had a hard time dealing with her.

"AJ, I know how bad you must feel about the girls. But, they are just children really. Give me a week, and I will have them convinced that they should be with you the rest of this summer just as you suggested," she said.

I had to give her credit. She was smooth. Money was her life's blood. Without it she couldn't function in any meaningful way. Try as I might, even after all of this time, time being married to her, I still didn't actually understand her.

"I hope you're right," I said dissembling. "I really miss my babies. I miss you too, if it comes to that. I mean what we had. There is a lot of water under the bridge, and it has carried with it a lot of dreams. I hope you'll be happy. I really do." I was laying it on thick. I was hoping she would feel some smidgen of remorse for all of the subterfuge and betrayal she had laid on me and now the girls. She did look startled for the briefest of moments. But, she recovered nicely and just nodded her assent.

I had to get out of there. I said my goodbye and was about to leave when she stepped to me and planted a kiss on my cheek. It was a nice touch.

******

The girls were scheduled for a practice that Friday afternoon. Tanya contrived to be there-without me. She had the tape with her. The girls didn't know her very well, but she was a very persuasive lady. Pulling them aside, as they exited the field, she was very friendly; and fortuitously Jasmine was late. She said she had something they had to hear. She played them the tape.

It was but an hour later that she called me to come to her office.

I was nervous. "Okay? Well?" I said.

She broke into a smile. "They heard, they cried, they are very angry. They will play along until Monday. They will be at the reading, and so will we. But, we will be just a little late in arriving. Frankly, I can't wait for Monday to come," she said.

"Me either," I said.

******

It was Saturday, and I was off. I was meeting Jasmine later at the Head Trip, but I had to get some groceries and a few other things at the local super. Karen Olson came up in line behind me.

"Hi AJ. How yuh doin'," she asked.

"Karen! Okay. You?" I said.

"Good too. Your girls have a game later, right?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"You going?"

"Doubt it. I'm busy. But, why are you…?"

"Oh, I know it's none of my business. But my invitation is still open, AJ. I know a man like you has-needs," she said.

I looked at her and started to stutter. "Karen, I can't-don't-I mean you're very pretty, but-"

"Don't sweat it, AJ. I'm not pushing, just reminding you. You do have options."

Talk about the unexpected! I wondered if Karen had an agenda. She'd always been Jasmines pal. I wondered.

******

I did not go to the game. The girls had been given a heads up by Tanya and didn't expect me. Jasmine and her partner in crime were hoping I wouldn't come, so I made their day too. Everybody was happy. Now it was just two more days to the big show. I was filled with a mixture of emotions. On the one hand, I had been married to a woman I thought I knew for many years, and now she was trying to screw me over for money. On the other hand, I was elated that the plot she and her lover had hatched was about to bite 'em in the ass. Regardless of any emotions of mine, those of the other team were going to be much longer lasting come Monday.

*****

Monday was a gray day. It promised rain, but so far the elements had held off. Tanya had discovered that the reading was to happen at 9:00. We were parked around back at 8:30 munching on breakfast Macs and sipping coffee.

At 8:50 Jasmine's car pulled into the courthouse lot. She was smiling, as was her henchman. The girls were with her too. I saw Marie look around. She was no doubt trying to spot us or my car. She did and she smiled, but she quickly wiped it off and followed the dynamic duo inside.

I was glad Jasmine was happy. The happier she was now the less guilty I would feel after I destroyed her-and him.

At 9:00 straight up, Tanya waved me out of the car and we strode into the courthouse. She asked the security man where to go, and we headed the way he indicated. The judge was just being seated when we came in.

Jasmine looked around, and her smile faded like jeans in an acid wash.

She sat with her mouth open for several seconds before nudging the preoccupied asshole to look in our direction. I smiled and waved.

The proceeding went smoothly. The girls asked the judge to assign me as executor and gave their reasons-that they had been prevented from seeing me by a calculating and devious pair of adulterer-my words, their meaning. They got their way. Jasmine's protestions sounded so hollow, I think even she felt remorse for what she'd attemped. Roger just scowled and leved hate filled glances at me.

We filed out. The girls were with me. Jasmine tried to intervene and catch them up. She pulled me aside waving off Roger and Tanya. She evidently wanted to talk to me alone.

We walked a little distance down the corridor. "It's my time with them, AJ. You get them your weekend next month," she said.

"Ask them" I said.

"I don't need to. The divorce agreement says they're mine for the rest of the month," she said. She was sure full of herself.

"Tell you what, Jas. We'll go back to the divorce judge. Let him listen to you and dickhead over there conspire against me, and by inference the girls, and see what comes of it. Wanna chance it?" I said.

She looked daggers at me. "Okay, but, AJ-"

"Save it Jas. Take your fellow conspirator there home and fuck him. Maybe it'll make up for all of the money you're not going to be able to steal," I said.

"AJ, I was not going to come between you and the girls. I could never do that. Roger wanted me to, but I would not let it happen, really," she said.

"Maybe, Jas, but I don't trust you. You're a liar and a cheater. And frankly, I don't know which is worse."

"When will I get to see the girls again," she said. She apparently realized that she had no cards to play, so sweet reasonableness was going to be her new modus operandi.

"You can see them any time. They will be staying with me permanently, and no arguments, Jas. One thing: he will never be allowed around them, not ever. Am I clear?"

She nodded. I could see she was tearing up. She went back to him and they left. Tanya joined me dragging along the girls.

"Well, what now?" said Tanya.

"Yeah dad?" chorused the girls.

"We eat!" I said, feeling better than I had in a long time.

******

Things settled into a groove, and Jasmine managed to see the girls almost every week. I was surprised by her genuineness. Over time we were once more on speaking terms if not actually friends.

Butthead dumped her soon after the court hearing. He grew tired of the same pussy day after day I guess.

Tanya and I were an item, and she agreed to a date to marry me some six months after the hearing.

******

Jasmine quit her job at the agency. She couldn't stand to be around the guy who had not only dumped her, but had almost cost her her place with her children.

She met a guy who worked for a car dealership; he was a mechanic. I smiled at that. He was never going to be a millionaire, but if she played her cards right, she might figure out what happiness was really all about; I genuinely hoped so for her sake.

Oh, and shock of shocks, Karen Olson had been hanging out at the Head Trip since I'd last seen her in the market. I had assumed it was to see me, and maybe make it with me. In fact I was sure that was the case. Well, I was sure that is, until Drew, my boss, pulled me aside and asked me to be best man at their wedding! The look on my face could not have been anything but humorous as hell, at least not to Drew. I told him I'd be glad to. The irony? Jasmine was going to be maid of honor. East may be east and west may be west, but some of the time the twain sure as hell do meet.

-----------------------------

   Series:Jenna and Hank
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Their love is challenged mightily!
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/67789/jenna-and-hank
Published:2011-04-05
I met Jenna Warren in High School, Central High. She was the prize female among all females on the campus. She was maybe five-three and not an ounce over ninety pounds. She had beautiful auburn hair, A-cup breasts, and a bubble butt. Her arms were so slim it was a wonder she was able to hold a fork to feed herself. In a word she was the prototype of the helpless damsel, and every boy on campus dreamed of receiving one of her smiles and being allowed to die for her. And, after having met her, you can believe me that I was no exception.

I was new at Central at the time I finally met Jenna, and initially it was not an auspicious meeting. It seems she had a boyfriend. Rodney Wilkes was a football star, a lineman actually. Physically, he was six-two and maybe two-sixty, and, he was good looking in a rough sort of way. Rod was a senior and he was also student body vice president. Mister all-everything if ever there was one. Me?

I was eighteen years-old at the time, five-eight and one-forty-six. I was okay looking, but I had a well flattened nose and one of my eyes was permanently part-way closed. I had most recently been a golden gloves fighter and runner-up in the regional finals. Before my two year golden gloves career came along, I had fought in the silver gloves division for some time. Most people are not aware of the silver gloves division: it's for fighters from 8-15 years old. At any rate I'd had my "golden" career shortened when my eye was damn near poked out in my title try. The headgear we wore was supposed to prevent the kind of injury that I had sustained, but equipment is not always as effective as it's supposed to be, and so I don't fight anymore.

The day I met Jenna we were passing in the quad and I'd damn near fell, stumbling over my own feet, while staring at her and trying to walk at the same time. She'd laughed at me, and I'd jokingly called back to her that I was no laughing matter.

I was confident with the girls even stunners like her. I was a fighter for cryin'-out-loud! I'd had girls like few others in my old home town. I'd vowed that this town was not going to be any different. She stopped.

"Oh really," she said. "You looked pretty funny to me stumbling all over yourself trying to get a good look at me." She was laughing, and I started to as well.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I allowed. This was going well, I thought. I was already making mental plans for Saturday night. This girl was a keeper.

"So, what's your name?" she said.

"Hank. Hank Wesley," I said. "Eighteen, senior, inordinately handsome, and willing to die for you."

Now she really was laughing, and she was pointing. I turned around. Standing in front of me was a brute. At least he looked like a brute to me. He was tall and big and not happy. "Hank Wesley, this is Rod Wilkes; he's my boyfriend," said Jenna.

"Get lost shrimp unless you really do want to die for her," said Kong.

"Well, now let's look at this thing calmly shall we," I said. I was a welterweight to his super-heavy, but just looking at the way he was standing and the noticeable paunch in his middle told me that this would be a good day for me.

The punch he threw was so slow, that if he'd snail-mailed it, it would have arrived sooner. I bobbed, weaved, stepped to my right and he missed. He turned to have another go at me, but he was more careful this time, not trying to unload a haymaker in the first minute of the round. I decided to have some fun.

I let my hands dangle at my sides. He threw blow after blow and absolutely devastated the air around us. He was breathing really hard after no more than two or three minutes of trying to nail me. It was time to put him down.

I faked into him and he went for it. As I stepped back, he fell flat on his face. He stared up at me as though I were some kind of ghost with supernatural powers. I had never raised my hand, and he was down.

Jenna was staring at me with her mouth hanging open. "I never touched him," I said. I wasn't even breathing hard, whereas her boyfriend was on the ground having a near heart attack. The football team was going to have to upgrade its training program, I thought.

"That was amazing," she said. "Where did you learn that? Is it karate or kung fu or something?"

"No, I'm just a good dodger, I guess. I couldn't just stand there and let him hit me. He'd have killed me!" I figured she didn't need to know about my almost boxing fame.

"Yes, I guess he would have if he'd have been able to catch you. Well, you win. Pick me up Saturday night. Six o'clock will be good. I wanna eat and go to a movie. Oh, and I don't kiss on the first date, so resign yourself to admiring me and maybe holding hands. Oh, and if you are very good, and if there is a second date, I may let you die for me." She walked off laughing.

"Sounds good to me," I said.

I'd only been at Central for a few weeks, but after my set-to with Rod, I was the toast of the school. That Jenna had taken up with me didn't hurt my reputation a whit either.

Jenna and I had many dates, and I never did tell her about my boxing career. There would be a time.

True to her word, she hadn't kissed me on our first date, but she sure as hell had on our second. God! she tasted good. By the fifth date I got into her pants. She'd planned it. I know this because she was the one who'd brought the condoms!

We were parked on the top of the Crease, a very narrow slice, or crease, of road on the mountain where only one car could go comfortably. It was a place where there were lots of these little turn outs where cars, having to drive the dangerous mountain road, could pull out instead of having to back all the way back down. Anyway, there had to be fifty of the little niches in the mountain's face. We found one that suited us.

She looked beautiful in her sleeveless white blouse and her gray wraparound skirt. She'd kicked off her high heels and her nylon clad legs looked oh so feminine. Right then I would have given my right nut just to be able to suck her toes.

She leaned back against her door and I leaned back against mine. We both knew that this was the night, but we were not in any kind of hurry.

"You okay," I said.

"Yes. You?"

"You betcha. God your beautiful, Jenna. You're almost too beautiful," I said.

She laughed. "Is that your best line?"

"I guess since you practically leave me speechless," I said.

"Well, since you can't talk, why don't you come over her and show me how beautiful you think I am," she said.

I moved toward her slowly making an effort to hold her eyes with mine. She moved toward me a little too. Our faces stopped inches apart and I leaned in and kissed her so gently that I'm not sure she even felt it. I kissed her again. My lips parted and hers did too. We kissed with no other body part touching for some minutes.

Finally, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, but gently. This was going to be the best moment of my life. There would never be another first time with Jenna. There would, I was certain, be more nights with her, but never another first night; it had to be perfect.

My hands slipped up and down her arms and the coolness of her skin delighted me. I took her face in my hands. I reached around and unlocked the car's back door on my side. I slid the front seat all the way forward, got out, and got into the back seat. She saw what I did and she mimicked my moves.

Both of us in the back, I locked the doors once again and pulled her to me. We hadn't spoken for minutes. I had nothing to say only to do. She was following my lead. I pulled her to me and she laid her head on my chest. I let my hand brush her breast, then stroke it, then feel its full fleshiness through the cotton of her blouse.

I began unbuttoning her and she leaned back a little and watched me do it. I spread her blouse open and unhooked her bra in front; her breasts spilled out of their cups small and pointed and naked; she looked like a little girl. The smell of her began to permeate the air around us. This was a female aroused and ready to be taken by her mate. She swallowed, and I could almost hear her do it; Jenna was nervous. I kissed her face, that heavenly face, and treated her like the precious jewel she was to me. I took one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked it, not too hard. She moaned very softly. I repeated the process with her other nipple.

Her blouse and bra came completely off and I dropped them into the front seat. We began kissing and I felt her breasts and back and tummy and gloried in her surrender. Then I felt her hands begin to undo the buttons on my shirt. Soon her clothes in the front were joined by mine. She kissed me and her hand went to the buckle on my belt; I made it easy for her to undo it.

"I love you," I said.

"I know," she said.

She opened my pants and pulled down the zipper. She peeled them off of me. My briefs and my socks were all that remained between myself and nakedness. She peeled them down too and a six-inch cock as stiff as steel poked out at her. She touched it, then held it, then stroked it. I took one of her tits in my hand and with the other hand I pulled her head to me and kissed her while she fondled me.

I reached for the button on the side of her skirt and undid it. Her skirt fell open and she raised up so I could pull it from her. Her panties, like her bra were white and cotton and very ordinary. She pulled her panties off herself and now we were both naked and committed. I stared at her bush. She reached for my cock and found it. She held up a condom, smiled, and slid it on to me.

I lay her down on the seat and lifted one leg over the back of the back seat and the other one over the back of the front. She was open to me.

"Okay?" I asked very softly.

"Screw me, Hank. Just get busy and screw me."

I slithered down her body and began to lick and suck her slit. I took her clit in my teeth and teased it. She began to jerk and shudder; she had her first orgasm of the night. I was pleased with myself. I loomed above her and poked at her like a beginner trying to find the opening. She took hold of me with her hand and guided me inside of her.

The head of my cock was inserted and I waited. I wanted her to urge me on. Her eyes opened and she looked askance at me. "Now, Hank."

I pushed into her and soon I was lodged and I could feel her relax and try to impale herself even more completely on my shaft.

I began to screw her. The condom made it possible for me to last a little longer than I otherwise might have; they had always had that effect on me. Soon I was pumping wildly into her and she was moaning and making deep guttural noises as she neared yet another orgasm. She bucked like a wild horse just as I shot my load into the latex sheath.

We lay sweating, the car's windows completely steamed up.

"I want it again, Hank. Give me my purse."

I looked at her not knowing what she was about. I gave her her purse from the front seat. She pulled out another condom. I smiled at my own ignorance. She put it on the deck behind the back seat and left it there for the moment. She was sitting up now and she pushed me back and began stroking my all but flaccid cock. She leaned over and took it between her lips. I had never felt anything so erotic in my life. It was actually better than when I screwed her, but of course then my cock had been encased in a condom; for a moment my whole universe was her mouth covering and sucking my glans and its shaft.

Her hands on my ball sac and her mouth on my cock brought me back to screwing trim very quickly. She sat up straight, and put the second condom on me. She turned her back to the front and leaned over the back of the back seat. She pushed her butt out to me. I was expected to take her from the rear. I didn't hesitate. She was so wet from her first fucking and my semen washing her vagina that I had no trouble entering her. I hammered her with short vicious strokes. I was a male taking his she. I felt myself beginning to stiffen and I exploded into her in a flood of white stickiness. I would have a job to do in a few minutes; she hadn't come this time, and I knew I couldn't leave her like that.

I pulled out and leaned back and she literally fell against me, her head on my shoulder. I couldn't be sure, but I think she was sniffling.

As thrashed as I was, I would take care of my responsibility. It is the one thing my dad had taught me about sex; "Never, but I mean but never," he'd said," leave your lady needing completion; finish her off, otherwise you're an asshole."

I laid her down on the seat and spread her legs as before. She gave me a funny look. "Can you do it again?" she asked. It was clear that she didn't think I could. I just smiled at her.

I slid down her body and smelled her. Our mixed juices were almost overpowering. I lowered my mouth to her gaping slit and kissed and licked her and then began to suck her out.

"My God, Hank, you don't have to do that. Oh, oh, oh, Hank, don't-stop! Oh my God dooonnnn'ttt stop!" She almost damaged my new dental work bucking like she did. But, boy did she cum! My dad would have been proud of me!

We dressed slowly kissing and feeling each other the whole time.

We drove slowly back to town.

She laid her head on my shoulder as we drove. "You ate me out after-"

"Yes. I ate my own cum, and yours of course," I said.

"And you were okay with that?" she said, not believing it.

"Of course." And I was.

"You are definitely my man," she said, snuggling up closer to me as we drove.

We had many nights after that that were memorable for me, and I think for her. We tried new things and neither of us thought of dating anyone else while we were still at Central. It was a happy time. What I discovered, and what I could not have foreseen, would one day come back to challenge my tolerance, was that my woman was the purest form of female sexual animal. But that was long in the future at that point.

We graduated that same year and I went off to state college near my old home town. Jenna got a job as a waitress at Marty's Bar and Grill, and we parted ways. The last night before I left for school was bittersweet. I promised to return often, but she was unaccountably standoffish.

"You'll be there, and I'll be here," she said. "I'm not the type to stand around waiting for some guy. I'm gonna date. You should too. Maybe we'll see each other again and maybe not; but I'm not holding my breath. You shouldn't either."

We'd argued some, actually it was me arguing. But, in the end, Jenna had her say and her rules were final. I was actually sick to my stomach thinking of her dating other men. But, life was what it was, I supposed.

Though it was two-hundred miles distant, I did return for holidays, my parents lived there for goodness sakes, and I did date Jenna a few times. But, though we dated, I was denied getting into her pants again. She was still setting the rules.

Five years later I was back for good.

I had a master's degree with a double major in Criminology and Computer Science. These got me a good job with the local sheriff's department. I became their chief investigative resource. I also ran training seminars for other law enforcement agencies around the southern part of the state. The pay was good and likewise the benefits.

Jenna, you ask? Well, by the time I'd returned for good, she'd left the state. I was told on the sly, by a common friend, that she'd been knocked up and her parents had sent her off to some small town in New York to live with relatives. Her parents, or at least her dad to whom I'd talked, were not forthcoming, not to me at any rate; and that, for reasons that were completely mysterious to me. No one else who knew anything would say anything. She'd evidently refused to marry the guy who'd put her in a family way; and he'd not been loath to leave her stranded in any event. What a bum, I thought to myself when I'd heard who it was. The guy? Why Rodney Wilkes, of course.

I saw the asshole around from time to time as I took my morning run. He owned a donut shop. It was evidently quite prosperous too. It was located near the park where I did my running. Every time I passed his place I thought of Jenna and wondered where she was and how she was and if she indeed was raising a child and if she remembered me.

It was none of my business, and police resources were not supposed to be used for personal surveillance or information gathering, but the day came when I finally decided to see what I could do to find out about Jenna. Hell, I had decided that nothing was going to stop me.

I went back to our high school and made friends with the lady in records, Norma Gardner. I hung out for a few days talking with old teachers and visiting some of the old classrooms. One day I stopped at the very spot we'd met. My mind's eye could still see Wilkes prone on the ground right there. As I stood there meditating, Norma came up behind me.

"Hank?"

"Oh, hi Norma. You know it was right here that I met her," I said. I must have sounded wistful. "I'd sure like to see her again."

"Jenna?"

"Yes. But, I have no idea where she is, and her parents won't tell me anything."

"But, you're a cop, right. Can't you find out where she is? I mean if you're a cop?"

No, not a cop a civilian employee of the Sheriff's department, but yeah, if I had her social security number or driver's license number or something," I said. But, I don't, and I don't have a reason to pull in anybody for questioning, I laughed. But Norma could sense that the laugh was hollow.

"Could I help," she said.

"Huh?" I said, hoping she'd offer what I couldn't ask for.

"I don't have any address or license numbers, but I do have her social security number," she said. "You said that would help?"

"Sure it would. And, I'd be forever grateful, Norma, really," I said. I did my best to hide my excitement, but I was almost shaking in anticipation.

I worked late the next day, and as everyone else headed out for the evening I sat at my computer and invaded the privacy of a free American citizen. If I was caught my ass would be in a very tight sling.

She wasn't in New York. She was in New Jersey: 1411 Oak Road, Hoboken.

She was a thousand miles away, but I was determined to be there by the weekend. I had a week's comp time credited, and I signed off to take it. The Captain, looked at me strangely, but I just told him I had some personal business to attend to, and that I would be back a week from Monday to give the devil his due. He laughed and waved me off.

I landed at Liberty International at 6:00PM. I rented a car and was on my way to the address in Hoboken, some ten miles distant, within the hour. I had a little trouble finding Oak Street, but I bought a Thomas Map Guide and was in front of her house by 7:30PM. There was a light on in the front room.

I sat in the car and waited, thinking. What if I was the last person on earth that she wanted to see? What if she had a boyfriend or a fiancé or even a husband? Hell anything could go wrong. And, remembering Murphy's law, I was sure that it likely would. But, nothing was going to stop me. I needed my woman, and if not her at least closure.

I got out and headed up the walk to the stoop. I paused, my hand just six inches from the door ready to rap. I rapped. I could hear footsteps. The door opened. She looked at me and I at her. She was beautiful and obviously ready to go out somewhere.

"Hank? Hank Wesley?"

"You betcha. I'm here looking for my woman. You seen her?" I asked with a straight face.

"Hank, Hank, come in. I was about to go out but-wait here-sit," she said. She went to the phone.

"Caroline… yeah it's me… no, no, no… something's come up… not tonight… I have to… no… reschedule… something's come up I said… I'll tell you later." she hung up.

She came back and stood in front of me. "My God!" she said. "It's really you. I have to tell you, you surprised me. I had a date, but I just cancelled him, so you have to fill in. I don't get dressed up like this for nothing," she laughed.

"My absolute pleasure," I said.

She gave me directions and we ended up at a small but tasteful bistro with a piano player that actually played romantic music. The lights were dim, and the place smelled like old Italy probably smelled.

The dinner was great, the wine first rate, and the music right out of the thirties. We talked about everything except what I most wanted to talk about: she'd put the kibosh on that during minute one at the bistro. Regardless, it was a fabulous date. It was, that is, until it was time to part.

I took her home. She stopped me on the stoop and kissed me hard. I looked at her and I could tell something was wrong.

"Hank, I can't tell you how nice it was for you to show up and take this girl out tonight. It was a dream come true for me. I have thought about you so many times over the last few years."

"For me too," I said. "But there's a but in there isn't there?" I said, sensing it coming.

"I'm afraid so. Hank, we can't be together. I have been trying to think of a way to tell you tonight almost from when I opened the door and saw you standing there. There is just way too much water under the bridge, and I hope you'll allow me my privacy and not intrude into my life here. It just wouldn't work out you and me. Let this be our swan song," she said. She reached for the door knob and rushed in. She was already crying.

To say I was crushed would not even begin to describe the pain I was feeling. I was numb. I stood there on the stoop for several moments trying to figure out what was going on. Finally, I left. She had said to not invade her privacy, not to intrude into her life. I was willing to do anything she asked of me. But, I was not willing to do that one thing; I'd fight her on that one, and I'd win. And, the next time I saw her I was would tell her that, and there would a next time.

I was definitely going to figure out just what water under the bridge she was talking about, and that no matter what. If she hadn't actually murdered someone, and maybe even if she had, I still wanted and needed her.

I wasn't rich, but I was doing all right. I had a house, a good income, and I was single as hell. Aged 30 and I was still single. It was obvious to me that so was she. Hell, logically, she should have jumped at the chance to marry me, or at least date me; I was a helluva a catch. She wasn't just my friend; she was my life; I knew that now, and it was killing me. I had let too much time pass since returning and getting settled, what, five years!

I knew she probably had a child, Rod Wilkes child, though I hadn't seen one when I'd arrived on her doorstep; probably already at the babysitter's, I figured. But, an illegitimate child in itself couldn't be the reason for the finality of her attitude. No, it had to be something worse. Somebody had to know what it was, but who?

I was pretty sure I could get the truth out of her parents, but it wasn't going to be easy. Time to apply the pressure. Harry and Doris Warren were long time residents of the town. Their only child, Jenna was a wonder. Everyone had said so. But, sometime after I left for college, and not long before I returned for good, something'd happened.

There was the pregnancy. There was the shipping her off to relatives, to presumably have the baby, or so the story went. But, Jenna was never spoken of in the town; it was like she'd never lived there. Her parents too seemed semi-reclusive. For sure, something had gone wrong and no one would say what, if in fact anyone did actually know.

I sat in a sheriff's cruiser across from the Warren house on 4th street. I went over for the tenth time what I was going to say. I had made up my mind that I wasn't leaving until I had the whole ball of wax.

I was wearing a suit, my best business suit. It was one of the ones I used for presentations to other regional law enforcement agencies. I wanted to appear as intimidating as I could to the quiet couple that I was likely about to shake up big time.

I knocked and the door opened a minute later. "Mrs. Warren? I'm…"

"Yes, I remember you, Hank. If you're still looking for Jenna… " She immediately knew, or presumed to know, why I was there; that was interesting.

"Mrs. Warren, I found Jenna. We went to dinner just the other night. May I come in?" That surprised her; it stopped her for a moment. She recovered.

"Hank, I know you spoke to my husband a few of years ago; nothing has changed. We don't speak of Jenna anymore."

"Well, you're going to today," I said. "And, you're not going to hold anything back. I am more than ready and able to put pressure on you that you can neither fight nor resist. Trust me, I mean business, and I never bluff." I felt like an asshole, and I was bluffing, but this bullshit had gone on for far too long.

"Hank! Are you threatening us?" said the surprised, no, shocked woman.

"Take it any way you want. I'm here to get answers, and I'm going to get them," I said.

We both looked around to see a big man, balding, with the weathered countenance of a blue collar worker come into the room. He studied me. "Sit down, Hank."

"Mr. Warren," I said. He didn't offer me his hand, and I took no offense.

"Doris, could you leave us alone for a bit. Mr. Wesley is obviously not going to let sleeping dogs lie, and truth told, he has a right to know."

"Thank you," I said.

"Hold that thought until you've heard what I have to say, Hank.

"Here's the deal. I'm going to tell you what you want to know, but I am going to ask you to not talk about it to anyone here in town, ever, and to leave us alone after this. Are you agreed?"

I nodded. "If that's the way you want it.'

"It is," he said.

"Okay, unless it's a crime then-"

"I heard you say you went out with Jenna the other night. Did I hear right," said Harry.

"Yes, I found out where she lived and went to see her. You have her address too, don't you?" I said.

"No, our daughter is dead to us. We haven't had contact with her since she left years ago. Before you came back to stay I guess," said Harry.

"What did you say? Dead to you! Are you crazy! She's a wonderful woman and beautiful one. Why would you ever say such a thing about your own baby?"

Harry looked at me with the saddest eyes I have ever seen. It was clear he was having trouble talking.

"Look, Mr. Warren, Harry, has she murdered anyone?"

"Heavens no!" he almost yelled.

"Has she committed treason? Or anything like that. I mean big time prison offenses? You know I'm with the sheriff's department, and I am not asking these questions rhetorically," I said.

"No, no, no to all of that," he said.

"Then take my advice and go to that wonderful person we all know Jenna Warren is," I said, "and love her."

"We can't. One, she won't see us, not after the-fight. Two, she's not the same girl you knew in high school, trust me officer, she's not."

"I don't trust you, Harry, not if you have voluntarily abandoned that girl. You are unworthy of trust."

He looked at me and almost sneered. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said. "So shut up and listen."

"I nodded, "Okay, I'm listening."

"You probably heard that she was knocked up by Rod Wilkes. At least that's what most people think, and it's probably so" he said.

"Yes, I heard that," I said.

"Well, I like I say, that much is likely true, and we had intended to send her to Iowa to live with her grams. But, something snapped in her. She stalled and wouldn't go. She started hanging out with bikers and other bad types. To her credit she didn't drink too much or use drugs-because of the baby I guess. Just before it was due, she disappeared. Her mom and I were frantic. We had no idea where she was. Sheriff Nix tried to help us, but initially to no avail. We were thinking something bad happened to her.

"Well, Sheriff Nix did finally locate her. She was in New York. She'd… " He started to sob.

"Harry, I said softly. "Tell me."

"Hank, she'd become a prostitute." Harry Warren broke down.

For some reason I felt relieved. It was bad, that water under the bridge, but not "that" bad.

"I have a question for you, Harry."

He looked up. "Is that the worst of it?"

He nodded. "Yes. Isn't it enough?" Goddamn puritans, I thought.

"Then why won't you see her, love her. It's not a socially acceptable occupation, I'll grant you, but it could have been far worse than her taking pay for sex, far worse."

He looked at me like I was the one who was crazy. "Are you nuts!"

"No, a bit upset, but not nuts. Now, I just have to figure a way to get her out of the pay for sex situation, and maybe together we can rebuild the soul of that wonderful woman," I said. "And, I could use your help and Doris'."

"Doris, come in here. I know you're listening," cried Harry.

A sheepish Doris came back in to the living room.

"Hank, I would like nothing better than to have you succeed. But, I don't know. You see, Doris and I tried already. It was years ago, but we did try. She told us-well-she told us she liked fucking men for money. Those were her words. She refused to quit."

"I've seen and heard it before, Harry. It may even be true that she likes the sex. But doing it for money is not something any prostitute likes. It's boring and dirty and loveless. We'll get her out of that part of it, I promise you. Now, that I know what I'm up against; I'll know how to fight the good fight."

"Do you really think…"

"How about my proposition? Will you two be willing to help me rehabilitate her if I can get her to agree to coming home?"

"Yes, okay," said Doris. "Anything we can we do?"

"I will let you know when the times comes, but it will be soon; I assure you of that," I said. "But, right now, stop looking down on her. Her business is the shits, but she's still our girl. Okay?"

They were both nodding yes and Harry had a half smile. It was the first time in years that he'd had hope and he was feeling good. I would be saving three people not just one with this effort-uh-make that five. I had to succeed. Who were the other two? Why the little girl and me of course.

As I was about to leave, I had a thought. "Doris, what is your granddaughter's name?"

"Oh, uh, Jillian," she said.

I turned over the name in my mind. Jillian, maybe Jill for short. I wondered if her apparently uncaring biological daddy ever thought about her. I'd never met her and already I was thinking about her-hard.

I had neglected my parents for the past few months. I had been on the road doing seminars and and otherwise occupied. At any rate, I had to see mom and dad; it was time.

I'd arrived at noon. Mom had lunch ready. As we ate we caught up.

"You know Hank, it wouldn't kill you to at least call every once in a while."

"I know, mom, I will start making a point of it. When's dad coming? You said he'd be here."

"He'll be here in a while. Since he's retired from the company, he fishes almost every weekend. You'll be lucky if he doesn't get you out there to clean the fish," she said laughing.

Just then we heard the truck pull in. I could see dad pulling the Styrofoam ice chest out of the back of the shell camper. I went out to help. "I got it dad," I said.

"What you can do if you want to help," he said, wrestling the ice chest from me, "is help me to clean the fish!"

"Delighted," I said. "Okay, then, you can carry the tub out back too."

I laughed. "Thanks a lot, daddy." He began laughing too.

Lunch was good. The weekend was young. I decided to hang out with the folks. It was casual and happy and-good. It was Sunday evening. Dad and I were sitting out on the deck in the back. It was Miller time, and we each had an MGD in hand.

"Dad, you remember Jenna, right?' I said.

"Yes, of course son. A pretty girl. Had some problems a few years ago, I heard."

"Any idea why, Dad?"

"Son, I-"

"It's okay, Dad, I know a lot already. I'd appreciate your input."

"Son, I know she was your favorite, everybody knew it. But she…"

"I know, she took money for sex. Mr. Warren told me."

"Yes, but that wasn't the whole of it I'm afraid, son. She liked it. She liked the sex and she did it indiscriminately from what I hear."

I sat there with my mouth open. "It started when that asshole Rod Wilkes came around. You were gone, and he was handy, and he did things with her-well, stuff you only read about, but nobody actually does. He made her pull a train, Hank; at least that was the rumor. And afterwards she was the town slut. She moved away. I hear it was New York, but we never saw her again.

"I think her parents found her and talked to her, but she wouldn't listen. She had the little girl, she was-well there were rumors."

"I think I know what they were," I said. "She's a hooker isn't she? I mean still."

"They were only rumors, son. We never really knew. People have lives. When others leave, well, they kinda get lost in the mass of humanity. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know dad. I know."

We said our goodbyes around midnight. I promised to go fishin' with Dad soon, and I would keep that promise.

I had decided to utilize my police resources. I'd already pushed the envelop; I'd just be pushing it a little further. I had to find out where exactly my love was at, mentally, psychologically. Did she really want this life she was into, or was she trapped by it. I figured I'd know soon.

Ironically, as much as I didn't know about Jenna's current life; there was plenty she didn't know about me either. This coming weekend I would be putting all of it to rest. There was a tsunami of shit about to be hitting the fan and I had to remember to be sure to duck.

Sneaking around and spying on the woman I wanted to marry was not my idea of a good way to start out in family life, but I had to know what I had to know, and the only way to find out was to sneak around. So I did.

I'd learned a lot in my six years on the force, and I was able to break into her apartment with no trouble. While it is true my badge did not carry any weight in New Jersey, unless someone looked close they wouldn't be able to tell I was from out of state.

I installed the mini-micro in the living room. I only had one and I figured if she used the bedroom to fuck some guy I'd know what was going on anyway, and if not the living room would be the most likely place to pick up the info I needed.

I had decided to call it a day and get a room. There was a motel no more than two blocks away from Jenna's place. I called the station back home and was about to tell my secretary to expect me a day later than I'd originally planned.

It was Saturday Morning and I was curious as to how Jenna and Jill spent their weekends. I parked a few doors down from their house and relaxed and prepared to hang in there for the duration. I had no idea if they would even come out during the day; though I would have gambled a few bucks that they would. I wasn't afraid of being spotted. The windows on the van I was driving were tinted dark, so seeing in wasn't going to happen; I was safe. I had food, I had a couple of beers, and I had a thermos of coffee-a regular picnic. Now, if I could only get my woman to join me!

I heard Jenna and Jill interacting all morning. It was kinda like an old time radio show. It was about ten o'clock when Jenna and Jill came out. They were dressed casually; I was betting it would be a shopping day. It turned out that I would have lost my money.

I followed at a discrete distance as they pulled into a lot in front of a small three-story hotel. This bothered me. She had Jillian with her. Surely if she was doing some guy she wouldn't have brought her little girl along.

She went inside and I prepared to do the same. I gave her some space so as to not have her see me. Just inside the foyer, I saw her, with Jill in tow, speaking with a black man, maybe forty years old, and dressed in ghetto-stylish-the canary yellow fedora with the red feather was a giveaway: he had to be a pimp. I ducked back out to the van. My women came back out and I followed them to a pleasant and quiet street about fifteen minutes from the hotel we had just visited. Jenna walked Jillian to the door and knocked.

An elderly lady answered the door and broke out into a broad smile when Jillian went to her and grabbed her around the leg. Clearly the babysitter.

Jenna and the sitter talked for a moment or two and then Jenna retreated to her car and drove off. My van was not far behind. We drove for some thirty minutes and near as many miles. She pulled up in front of an apartment complex. I saw her touch up her makeup, grab her purse and exit the vehicle. She approached a ground floor apartment and knocked. A big man-he reminded me of Rodney Wilkes, but thirty-fiveish, answered the door. He looked taciturn; I didn't like him at all.

The device I'd installed was at her house. It was not going to be of much use today, so I headed for the apartment that I'd seen her enter. I had eyed the environs and thought I saw a possible place where I could at least hear if not see well into the apartment.

There were stairways separating the two wings of the building and by climbing half way up the stairs of the sister building I might be able to see into one of the target apartment's windows. There was no one out and the place seemed unusually quiet and devoid of human activity; that suited me.

I climbed the stairs trying to make use of the trees that fronted them to remain inconspicuous. I hit the jackpot; I could hear them talking animatedly and I could see her head and the upper part of his torso through what appeared to be the kitchen window. Jenna was telling him no, no way. He didn't seem to be buying it.

Then it happened. He hit her, and she literally flew across the room. I couldn't see her well enough to know how badly she was hurt, but at that moment all bets and all plans were off. I went quickly around to the front door, and I tried it. I got lucky the asshole hadn't locked it; his bad luck. I entered just as Jenna was crawling on her hands and knees trying to escape through the front door. It was clear she had been seriously hurt, and she was too stunned to move with any speed.

He was looming over her stricken form and had reached down to grab her by the collar of her blouse. It was at that moment that he saw me. "What the fuck! Who the hell are you?"

"You worst fucking nightmare, asshole," I said. Jenna had pulled herself into a tight fetal ball against the near wall. She was clearly terrified.

The man looked me over and appraised his chances. He outweighed me by a 100 pounds. His courage soared.

He came at me as though to crush me with his very presence. I bobbed, weaved, and slid to my right. As he adjusted his position to catch me he was met with a typhoon of punches to eyes and front teeth. He desperately covered his face with his hands effectively denying himself his primary weapons.

My heavy steel-toed shoe connected viciously with his left knee. He dropped hard to the floor, his kneecap broken. He howled in pain. He tried to sit up and reach for the stricken knee and his mouth was met with the toe of the other shoe and its metal spearhead; he lost at least half a dozen teeth in the process.

He fell back only half conscious. My fury would not let me stop. I stomped down hard on this remaining kneecap and it crunched like and overripe cantaloupe. I repeated the process on both of his elbows. The next time he slugged a woman; he'd definitely have something to remember. For any who think I had taken advantage of a helpless and beaten man, fuck off; He'd damn near killed my girl with one punch; frankly I was very near to killing him, but I didn't. Jenna needed me, and I was determined to make sure that I was around when the dust settled on all of this.

I went to Jenna. She didn't recognize me at first and recoiled when I came near. "Jenna," I said. "It's me."

"Hank?"

One of her eyes was completely shut and there was blood, hers, all over her face and blouse. I knew what I had to do. I got her up and we headed out and to her house.

She whimpered all the way home. I had never felt so desperate to help someone in my life, and I was sure I never would again.

Arriving, I helped her up the steps and into her house. I don't know why I didn't take her to the doctor's immediately, she could have a concussion-I knew a lot about those. But, I sensed that she did not want me too. I decided to ask.

"Jenna, we should go to the doctor's," I said.

"No! I mean, no, Hank. I'm fine," she said. I had my answer; we weren't going to the clinic. I sat her down on the couch and went to the kitchen to find a towel I could wet and daub at her now swelling face and its bruises.

She winced as I tried to gently clean her face. "I have to clean you up, dear heart, you're covered with blood.

"Okay," she said. She turned aggressive, as aggressive as she could given the circumstances. "How? Why? I told you that we couldn't…"

"Shush," I said. I was asserting myself now. "You didn't think I was going to accept that did you. To never see you again? Not happening, Jenna, I love you and I will marry you no matter what you say. But that said, I am curious. Why did you try to send me away?"

She started to sob, then to wail; then, she was wracked with loud bawling anguish. I felt like shit. I could not understand why she was so terribly stricken by the thought of marrying me; I was certain that she loved me too. I was going to know everything, and I was going to know it today! I couldn't help her, be there for her, until I knew. And, I was prepared for the worst. The worst is what I got.

She took the towel from my hand with some force. She looked away and then back at me. "Hank, I do love you. But we can't be together. I won't do that to you. I wouldn't…"

I decided to play what I thought was my trump card. "Jenna, I know you're an escort, a call girl," I said. She actually laughed.

"Hank, if that was the only thing-"

"Then what!" I demanded.

Her hands dropped to her sides and rested on the couch beside her. She gazed at me through the fog of her tears and one swollen-shut eye. She seemed to calm herself. "Hank-I-I-I have breast cancer. I am scheduled for a-procedure soon. Do you understand?"

In that moment time stood still. I was silent for a long moment. "Jenna, as terrible as that is, it makes not the slightest difference, and you know it. It just means that two of us will be fighting it instead of just you alone. And I'm a pretty good fighter."

Losing her train of thought, she looked at me strangely. "Hank, you beat that man half to death. And, long ago, Rod? What are you, Hank?"

"I'm a prize fighter, Jenna. Well, I was a long time ago. A pretty good one. But, I got a messed up eye in the finals, and…"

"My god that explains a lot. Oh, you have no idea how often it occurred to me that there was something more than luck-oh my you are a piece of work," she said. "How many times did I ask you about your eye, Hank, and all you ever would say was that it was an old sport's injury. I never knew. You were fucking the shit outta me and I never knew, never had a clue."

She recovered and remembered what she was going to say. "Hank, I can't let you…"

"Jenna, goddamn it, we are going to be married, and we are going to fight the good fight so help me god. Hank, even if you lose a breast, it'll make not the slightest difference in my need for you."

At that moment I remembered a couple of things I had been putting off that I had to redress. One was to kick the high holy shirt out of Rod Wilkes, not for getting her pregnant, but for making her pull a train and causing her to become a whore for hire; oh yes, Rod and I had a date. Additionally, I had to give Harry and my dad a call; we would soon be going fishing.

She was crying softly now and shaking. I came to her and held her in my arms and said not a damn thing. I just gently rocked her and loved her and made her feel safe. Tomorrow the battle would begin. Tomorrow, too, we would be going home.

Jenna had her procedure. She'd lost both breasts. The reconstructive surgery was ongoing and apparently going to be successful. Her breasts had always been A-cups; her new ones would be almost the same size. The best news, however, was that now, a year later she was cancer free; we were crossing our fingers.

Rodney Wilkes and I did have a discussion. It's iffy whether he will be having any more children. The good news about that was that he came at me, so there was not going to be any repercussions for me. Seems he'd always held a grudge against me for our initial set-to at Central those many years ago. Well, some people never learn.

My dad, Harry Warren, and I fish regularly now-maybe once a month.

Finally, Jenna, Jillian, and I are doing good. Life is good.

-----------------------------

   Series:Jill Rodgers and Donald Long
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She is way out of his league, but in the end does it really matter?
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/68182/jill-rodgers-and-donald-long
Published:2011-05-17
"Jill, you can't be serious. Donald Long is nowhere near being in your league. He's short, and nerdy, and a truly terrible dancer; and he's a pussy compared to the men that you could have. Now, Kyle Woodrow, he is in your league; you snap your fingers and he will be on his knees begging you to marry him when we graduate," said Penny. "And, you can add to that that there is no doubt that Kyle is going places."

"So would Donald, Penny, get on his knees and propose, that is, if I snap my fingers. And, I don't care if my husband goes places, as you put it. I'll be the one doing the going places. I'm determined to be somebody, Pen; and you can take that to the bank. No, I'm looking for a man who will be there for me when I need him: the wind beneath my wings as the song goes.

"Kyle's tall, dark, and handsome; and, absolutely stuck on himself. His ego will all but force him to keep me on the backburner. I am not into being on the backburner for any man, Penny. Plus, Kyle would be cheating on me in a year tops. I will be able to dictate to Donald and make him think he's won the fucking lottery in getting me for his wife," I said. "No, no Kyle Woodrows for me."

"Oh I see, you want to be the knightess in shining armor and have your husband be your loyal squire: a Sancho Panza to your Don Quixote. Is that it?" she laughed. "You want a man who is so pussywhipped that you can do whatever you want, is that it Jill?" said Penny, now positively breaking up laughing.

"No, I just want to have clear sailing to the top in my profession. I want a man who will have my back, that's all.

The dance was the swan song of our college sorority's seniors. A bunch of us would be graduating in a week's time. Then, we would be off to our niches in the real world. Penny and I had been close since our freshman year, and we were discussing who we were going to choose to be our significant others.

"Don't look now, girlfriend," said Penny. Here comes your pirate-uh-I mean your loyal squire in waiting." I gave her a sarcastic look that told her to cool it.

"May I have this dance?" said Donald Long. I rose as he took my hand. I had a good six inches on him with my heels, but he did not seem to feel intimidated by that little reality. Yes, Donald would do. A ne'er do well in the offing for sure, but a gentle man who would be more than tractable; I was certain of it.

----------

Donald:

The gavel sounded and that was it; we were divorced.

The light went out of my life that day: three months gone now. The most beautiful woman in the world, the sexiest woman in the world, the sweetest girl in the world and I were no longer an item; we were now a statistic.

I'd met Jill Rodgers thirteen years earlier at a costume ball. She was Tinker Bell and I was Blackbeard the pirate. Her costume left zero to the imagination. Mine, on the other hand, suited me. I was tough, and gruff, and rough around the edges. She was smart and pretty and quick witted. She was going places; one could just sense it.

The ball was sponsored by one or another of the sororities, and I'd been invited by Pauline Carter an old high school flame to attend. I'd been two years ahead of Pauline at Central High. She'd been one of those quiet, pretty, fragile kind of girls that every guy feels duty bound to protect, and my last two years in high school were spent protecting her, and that for purely selfish reasons.

Pauline was a senior at State, a Business Administration major, the night of the aforementioned soiree, and I'd just been discharged from the Army. If it matters, I'd been a supply sergeant. I was there, at the dance, as Pauline informed me up front, to escort her and to make her current boyfriend, Dennis Rodman, jealous. Dennis, it seems, had not been as attentive as he might have been toward our girl. Anyway, I was game, and we'd succeeded: we'd made him jealous. And, predictably, Pauline ended up leaving with him. Which was okay with me, it left me free to cruise the party. And cruise I did.

Anyway as my pirate ship cruised lazily around the premises, I fell in to the rear of the line of guys trying to get on Tinker Bell's dance card. I knew miss 'Bell'-well, from afar-from our high school days; she'd never given me a tumble then, and I'd never expected her to. Though I'd never dated her, I had socialized with a few who had. But now, ex-army and all…

I did manage to get two or three dances with her, and, surprise-surprise, a date for the following weekend. And I was surprised. I'd asked her to dance that first time thinking I had but little chance of getting anywhere with anyone in her league. But, to prove the adage that nothing ventured would result in nothing whatsoever gained, I'd managed to get up enough courage to ask, and had gotten my reward.

To make a complicated and longish story a trifle less complicated and a deal shorter, let me say that our date the following Saturday night was spectacular. The woman was a thrill a minute, and the sex was outrageous. And, no, I did not even begin to question the fact that she'd given it up kinda easily; and that, even though, as I think I mentioned, we had never mixed socially before that fateful night at the party the week before. And, allowing myself the latitude to jump ahead a little here; everything I had imagined about her that first evening at the party, ended up being true. She was smart, she would indeed become very successful-I mean very-and she was way out of my league. This last was not really brought home to me until, well, until earlier today.

----------

"Hi Helen, the boss in?" I said. "I'm supposed to have an appointment."

"Yes, Mr. Long. She said to send you right in when you got here. But, she does have Mr. Loring in there at the moment. Could you hold on for just a sec while I check?" she said.

"My boss? My boss is in with her?" I said.

"Yes sir. But, I'm pretty sure that they are about done," she said. I nodded my understanding. I watched as she buzzed the boss' line.

"Ms. Rodgers, Mr. Long is here," said Helen.

"Thank you Helen. I'll be right out." Helen turned to me and tendered me a half smile. For some reason her smile unsettled me. It was almost like-something. Just then the door opened and my boss exited.

"Good morning, Mr. Loring," I said. I smiled, but he didn't return it.

"Good morning, Mr. Long.

"Helen, I'll be out in the field today. I have some mending to do with some of our customers. I'll be on the cell if anyone needs me," he said. And then he was gone without again even looking in my direction.

"Yes, Mr. Loring," said Helen, to his retreating form.

Helen seemed about to say something to me, but just then my wife came out and motioned me in: and yes, my wife is the CEO of Castor and Weintraub Consulting, a company dealing mainly in public relations and personnel arbitration. I'd been hired as a field representative for the firm a dozen years earlier, and, I was still a field rep; well, whaddya gonna do; it was my niche. At any rate, my job was to see to it that our clients were satisfied with C&W; services, and when such was not the case, to fix it so that they were satisfied. Without so much as a half-smile, my wife turned on her heels and headed inside. I had a bad feeling, but I followed her.

She sashayed her way behind her desk and seemed to fall into her throne. I followed her example and took a seat across from her without being invited to do so. She eyed me-what-coldly.

"Good morning, dear," I said. We'd not seen each other since early the day before. She'd come home and to bed after I was asleep, and she'd left before I was up; well, she was the CEO.

"Donald, Brad Loring has had some not too complimentary things to say about your work. Know anything about that?" she said.

"Huh? What? I'm doing good," I said, with confidence. "I just saw him a minute ago. He came here to complain about me?"

"He says the Montrose account is about to split from us and a couple of others are thinking about it. All three are yours, Donald," she said.

"Montrose! No way. I was there this week doing the tour. They were happy. They said so, Jill. They said so!" She gazed, no stared at me-hard.

"Donald, Mr. Loring wanted to fire you. I told him I had to talk to you first.

"Donald, you're my husband. We've been together a lot of years. When we both signed on with C&W; those many years ago, I thought, well, I thought that it was a nice idea, a good thing. Now, well now I'm not so sure. I never thought that someday I would be your boss. But, I am, and that's the long and the short of it," she said. "I have to think of the company first: and that for the good of the both of us, you and me," she said.

"Huh? Yeah, the company first, for the good of us," I wasn't quite being sarcastic. "Jill, I think it's great you've done as well as you have. I've got no ego problems when it comes to that. I think I've done pretty good too, no matter what Loring says. And I do not believe that Montrose torpedoed me like that; I can't believe it."

I smiled, "But you can't fix the Fawcett at home and I can," I said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. She still didn't smile.

"Donald, you're fired," she said. "You'll get the usual severance package." What she said took a moment to register.

"What? What! I'm fired. But-but-but you're my wife. I mean don't I even get a second chance. Maybe see if I can find out what's the matter with the Montrose account? Fix things up with them, if there is something wrong? And those other companies too? I said.

"Donald, you're fired. You need to clean out your desk, and turn in your keys and passwords. I need you out by day's end, Donald. I'm sorry. I hate to have to do this, but I'd rather it come from me than from Brad Loring. You will get a decent letter of recommendation; I can do that much for you at least," she said. I could feel my face flush. The embarrassment was almost beyond enduring.

"Jesus, Jill, Don't I even rate a second chance? Oh, fuck it, what the hell!" I rose and turned to go. I stopped at the door and looked back at her. Nothing, not even a hint of regret. "Helluva note, my own wife doing this to me. Good thing we don't have children you and I. Damn good thing," I said. I opened the door and stormed out.

I decided to go home and try to calm down. I needed to calm down. I mean my own wife. What would this do to our marriage? Where was the love and support? I had to think. I had to figure out where it all went wrong. We were still man and wife. Was she thinking of dumping me too, kicking me out? I had to believe that that was a possibility. I waited, and drank. Actually, I drank quite a lot. I looked up at the wall clock; it read 5:43. She'd likely be home soon, and then what?

I heard the garage door opener engage. She was home. I remained seated on the divan in front of the TV. It wasn't on. But I was on; well, I was high. She came in and looked at me. She turned and went upstairs. I guess she didn't have anything to say-hell-I knew that that wasn't true; she'd be sayin' somethin'. I was right in the second place.

Less than five minutes after going upstairs, she came back down and stood in front of me: between me and the not-turned-on TV. She looked good; well, she always did. The TV might not be turned on, but in spite of everything I was beginning to be. The bad news was that I didn't figure to be getting' any.

"I'm sorry, Donald, and know you're maybe not in the mood to talk to me; and well, frankly, the feeling's mutual: I'm not anxious to be getting into a-discussion. Again, I do want to say how sorry I am for what I had to do this morning, but, well, Donald, I did have to do it. You just haven't been doing the job like I feel, and Mr. Loring feels, you are capable of.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because you felt you could take it easy being the boss' husband. If you did, you were wrong, Donald; there is no taking it easy in this business. Or, maybe this business just isn't your cup of tea. But, whatever the reason, while I am sorry I had to do it; I am not apologizing for doing it. Can you understand that?" she said.

I just took another sip of my drink. "For someone who didn't want to talk you sure seem to be doing a lot of it," I said. "Had to do it, huh? Well, like I said this morning, fuck it, and fuck the job!" She looked down.

"Okay," she said. "Like I said, I know you aren't in the mood to talk right now, at least not civilly. We will have to talk at some point, my husband; and we both know it. Figure out where we are going to be going from here. I love you, Donald. This doesn't have to affect us as a couple. I hope it won't, but I guess that part is up to you." She sighed. "Anyway, business is business; you have to understand that."

The truth was that I did understand it, but that said, we were still family: she still shoulda stood by me, stood up for me, at least that. Plus, I just did not believe that Montrose did to me what she'd said, what Loring'd said.

I looked up at her. Jesus! She sure did look good. "Yeah, maybe we'll talk, and maybe not. But for sure not right now, as you say. My feelings are just a little raw right now as you might well imagine."

She nodded, "I can understand that." I was getting sick to my stomach, but I had to ask her one more thing.

"But, I do have just one question for you. Would that be all right?" I said. She tilted her head, always a sign that she was surprised at something.

"Yes, of course," she said.

"What you did this morning, to me, it was only business? It wasn't the first salvo in wanting to get rid of me?" I said. She looked down, then up. She met my gaze.

"Get rid of you? No. I assure you it was strictly business," she said. Maybe it was my imagination, but though the words were the ones I'd hoped to hear, the tone was unconvincing. I just nodded and looked into the dregs of my drink; they kinda reminded me of my situation, the dregs.

----------

"Well, you seem to have survived the night," said Brad Loring.

"Yes, he took things better than I thought he would. I just wish the little shit was capable of doing the job. I could have shipped him off on trips or something to keep him occupied," said Jill.

"You know, I gotta ask. I mean why did you marry the guy I mean you are so far out of his league that it isn't even funny," he said. "I mean you must have had that figured out at the gitgo; I mean you even kept your maiden name for chryssakes!" he said. "If that doesn't say something about you and him, I don't know what does.

"Jill, you have to divorce the guy. I want you to be my wife, not his," said Brad. "You and I belong together."

"I can't, dummy, he'd rape me in the divorce-economically. I make five times what he does. Donald might not be worth a damn at arbitration, but he's no dum-dum; trust me on that. If he knew I was screwing around on him, there would be hell to pay; and I don't wanna pay it," said Jill. "No, no divorce yet. I need to get him to want to leave on his own and blame himself when he does. I'm pretty smart too. I'll figure something out sooner or later. I promise." She sidled up to him and spread her legs a little to allow his thigh to rub up against her still clothed pussy.

The big man sighed, "Okay for now, I guess. Right now I gotta have me some relief. Think you can help me out?" he said.

"I think I might?" she teased.

"Oh yeah, well I hope so."

They were standing in the den of his oversized condominium. It was a three bedroom affair with a patio facing out on the four star golf course that was part of the package that his administrator's salary allowed him to afford. The golf course, too, was part of a country club membership that included a gym, a bar with a small dance floor, a twenty-four hour restaurant, two saunas, two Jacuzzis, and a convenience store.

He pulled her to him and kissed her gently. She slid her tongue between his slightly parted lips and he sucked on it.

His hand slipped to her ass and traced the crease of it through her dress. He pushed her back a little and looked at her. Leaning in he kissed the exposed tops of her breasts.

"Nice," he said.

"Of course," she said, smiling broadly.

"Get on your knees," he said. She mimicked a frown.

"Kinda demanding are we tonight?" she said.

Without answering her, he gently, but firmly, pushed her down to a kneeling position. Her hands dangled at her sides. She looked up into his expectant eyes. "Do it," he commanded her.

Slowly she reached up and got hold of his belt buckle and undid it. Unbuttoning his pants, she pulled them down around his ankles and left them there. He didn't bother to kick them off.

She touched the bulge in his shorts and smiled again. "Looks like you're interested," she giggled.

He grabbed a fist full of her blond hair and pulled her to him. She resisted.

"Ow!" she howled. He released her and she pulled his shorts down and his cock slapped her in the side of the face as she did so.

She stroked him a few times and then let her lips slide over his glans. He moaned. She sucked for some minutes. She felt him begin his eruption and pulled back from him aiming his spray onto the polished wooden floor. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and gasped.

He helped her up and turned her to face him. He kicked of his pants and underwear. He kissed her soft and long, just like he knew she liked it. No fish pucker for her; she would only tolerate soft, delicate, slightly open mouthed kissing. He'd learned that early on, and he was okay with it.

He helped her undress and then finished doing the same for himself. They sank down on the couch and explored each other more than enthusiastically.

She slipped to her knees and began bringing the dead to life. She smiled at her success and stood, then knelt on the couch beside him assuming the ass-pushed-back position of an about to be fucked female. He rose to the invitation. Standing behind her, he pressed home his cock easily spreading the folds of her labia as he entered her. She mooed.

They were silent for next several minutes. The only sounds was the faint squishing noise he made as he pushed and pulled himself in and out of her.

He felt her stiffen; it pleased him. He began pounding her relentlessly looking to come at the same time she did; it was always best that way, at least for him.

They lay sprawled on the couch, him on top, kissing her face and shoulders in the afterglow. "Your husband ever get you off like that?" he said.

"Hardly. Donald is good at some things but not included on the list is sex or business. Proof of that is that you're here fucking me and he isn't," she said. He snickered.

"Yeah, well, you really do have to figure a way to divorce the clod and marry me, Jill. I love you too, probably more than he does," said Brad.

"I told you, I will try to work it out. It's just a matter of time," said Jill.

----------

The days following my humiliation were tense at our house. The more so, since I was having trouble finding another job. The economy being in the shitter as it was, was not helping. At thirty-six years old, I wasn't exactly unemployable, but jobs were just not there for me.

Jill made no comment as to my failure to become reemployed. I presumed she was feeling a little sorry for me, but, I could have been wrong about that. The fact is we just didn't talk much, at least not about that. And, something else we weren't doing was having sex. Not since the day she'd fired me. She didn't turn me down; I just didn't ask. It just seemed so-weird-to think of her that way given the circumstances. I assumed, too, that she was feeling the same.

At any rate, my mornings, the last three months of them, were invariably spent job hunting and my afternoons at the Wild Goose, my favorite watering hole.

Sitting at the bar, I wasn't in too good a mood. The barkeep, Joey Luca, had just delivered my second Jack on the rocks. I was thinking about my situation. Jill made a ton of money as CEO of C&W;, so we weren't hurting financially. Hell, if it weren't for my damn male mind set, read ego, I could've just let things remain as they were and become a househusband; Jill would've been okay with it. She had actually sort of suggested it once or twice-obliquely-but she had hinted at it: "The house looks great, honey, couldn't have done better myself," or something of the like. We'd never had a maid; neither of us believed in them. We'd always shared the household and yards before, but now it was just me.

Joey came back my way and checked my glass to see how I was doing. I looked up at him, and he smiled at me. I'd been comin' in regular for the past few months and we'd kinda gotten to know each other. I hadn't shared anything very personal with him, not the stuff that had gotten me to comin' in regular, but other stuff, mundane stuff. I knew he was single, had a sister somewhere, and had a little condo, as he said, across town.

"Whatsamatter, cowboy," he said, wife trouble?"

"You could say that, Joey. And job trouble: havin' trouble gettin' one," I said.

"I see. Wife's on your case for bein' unemployed, huh?" he said.

"No, no. She's okay with it. She makes enough for the both of us. It's just-it's just-complicated," I said. He nodded, but his look told me he didn't really understand.

"I could use a little help around here if you think you'd like workin' in a bar," said Joey. "It'd just be part time at first until you got the feel of the business. And actually, it would be at one of my other places."

"Other places, your other places?" I said.

"Yeah I own four of these," he said. He gestured with his hand indicating our surroundings. "The Wild Goose here, the Hungry Bear across town, the Outlaw, and the Lawmen; they're kinda like theme places if you know what I mean.

"Huh," I said. "I knew you were part owner here, but I didn't know you had any other places. Yours huh?"

"Yeah, and I'm not part owner; I'm sole owner. Don't know where you got the idea I was only part owner," he said.

"Me neither, somethin' I heard and got wrong, I guess. But, I mean you're tending-So you're doin' good then," I said.

"I do okay. And, yes, I keep my hand in the day-to-day and do some tending, as you note. It suits me. And I'm a little shorthanded right now. Hard to keep good help.

"I don't know, Joey. I've never worked in a bar before. I Mean don't you gotta have experience or such?" I said.

"You said you used to be in public relations, right?" he said.

"Well, yeah, public relations and industrial arbitration," I smiled.

"Sometimes, I had to negotiate peace between buyers and sellers and the like. But it's not the same thing as working in a place like this," I said. My wife and I got into the business the same day, same company, believe it or not. Jill, she's a college grad, me four years on Uncle Sam's payroll. I did manage to get myself an A.A. degree in night school after I hired on at C&W; it was kinda a requirement for the job I eventually got."

"Interesting. Actually, this here job is all about public relations. And, well, there will be times when you might have to do some arbitratin' too," he said. We hashed things out for the next hour or so, well, in between him serving the customers. I took the job: ten bucks an hour and tips; I did get to keep all of my tips.

Financially, the job was one big-ass comedown from what I was used to, paid maybe half as much as I was getting' at C&W;, but it was better than nothing. Oh, and Joey was not into being patient. I started two minutes after we got done shaking hands: I did get to pee first.

----------

"So you got a job," she said. She was actually smiling.

"Yeah, it doesn't pay a lot, but I'm tired of living off of you, Jill. I need to do my fair share," I said. She flashed me an indulgent smile.

"Well, what is the job if I may be so bold?" She said.

"I'm the new bartender at the Wild Goose," I said. The look on her face showed just how much respect she actually had for the working man.

"A what!" she said, finally.

"A bartender. I worked four hours tonight. That's why I'm so late," I said. She just shook her head.

"What are they payin' you, minimum wage?" she said. She was clearly not impressed with my job hunting success. But then, all of a sudden, her expression changed. It was so sudden, that I think she had to catch herself. I had that real bad feeling again. The same one, or akin to the one, I'd had three months earlier when my world crashed.

"No, ten bucks per hour and tips," I said. "And, I am a public relations man. I'm hoping to do good. I was, well, kinda hoping you'd be a little more supportive." She sighed and smiled at the same time. Nobody does that.

"I am going to be supportive of you, Donald. If you think it will be a good fit for you, then I say go for it.

"Can I ask, will you be working evenings much?" she said. The way she said that last really set off alarm bells. It was like she was glad that I might be working nights. No wife wants her husband working nights.

"Yeah, it's when the place gets busy. Not much action during the day, I guess. The Wild Goose doesn't open until three in the afternoon," I said. She nodded her-joy-or so it seemed to me.

----------

It was still a little early at the Hungry Bear, the third busiest of Joey's four night spots. The band was still an hour from set up, but the dinner crowd was beginning to trickle in. I'd gotten myself pretty much stationed at the HB the past few months, and though it was a kinda far from the house, I liked the gig. I did do some covering at The Lawmen, which was located, coincidentally, two blocks from the police station and whose clientele was largely the men and women in blue and their support staffs. Similarly, I did an occasional shift at The Outlaw, located about a half mile from the county lockup, and whose clientele did include any number of parolees and recently released from captivity sinners. I guess one could say that Joey was nothing if not imaginative.

I liked the job and never missed a shift, never called in sick, and never complained. As a result Joey began to look upon me as his unofficial field manager. Well, he trusted me to be straight with him; and, his trust was not misplaced.

I had just finished stocking the bar frig when they came in. Helen did not look like the Helen who rode the receptionist's desk in my wife's outer office eight hours a day. But, there was no doubt that it was her. The lucky man whose arm she was holding onto seemed more than a little possessive of his date. Hell, I would have been too.

They took a table near the far wall a little ways away from the bandstand. A good idea, I thought; well, it was if they wanted to be able to talk in between dances: the music could get a little loud sometimes. I saw Janie, the waitress, take their order, and as she came up to me on the way to the kitchen to place it, I waved her over.

"Yeah Donnie, they want a couple red wines, she said. "Want some snacks too."

"That couple you just took the order from," I said.

"Yeah? Good. Their first drink's on me." I pulled my wallet, opened the till, and dropped a ten in it. She smiled.

"Know 'em?" she said.

"Yeah, the woman is good people," I said. Janie nodded and continued her journey to the kitchen to get the snacks.

Minutes later, I saw Janie deliver the couple their food and drinks and nod in my direction. The couple looked up, and the woman smiled and waved at me. I smiled and waved back.

The place got busy, and I didn't pay a lot of attention to Helen and her beau. That is I didn't until the dinner hour was over, the band had begun to play and the dancers had begun to dance. I heard a sharp squeal from the dance floor.

Helen was shaking her head no, but the man had her in his grip and was insisting; on what, who knew. I was mixing a drink for one of the bar patrons, but slowed my progress as I continued to eyeball the action on the floor.

Helen got loose from the man's hold on her, turned, and headed back toward their table. She grabbed her purse, started to turn around, apparently about to leave, when the man who was all but standing in her armpit, tried to manhandle her back into her seat. She dropped her purse and slapped him-hard! I heard a couple of very definite no's as the man continued his demands. Finished making the drink I had been building, I set it down in front of the customer, who had also been observing the action on the floor, and headed out to see if I could calm things down. One of Joey's ironclad rules was to be sure and not allow trouble in his place, and to be damn sure that his employees didn't add to any trouble that did occur.

"Problem folks?" I asked as I came up to them.

"Get lost-Donald," he sneered, reading my name badge.

"Sir, I'm afraid I am going to have to insist on a little more in the way of good manners if you know what I mean," I said.

"And, I said to fuck off," he said. The guy was easily six-three and two-twenty to my five-eight and one-sixty. But, I was in shape and my army training was something I had kept up ever since being discharged. I wasn't going to push it, but I was ready to react if I had to.

"Mister, I don't want to call the police, but I will if I have to. "Ma'am, do you wish to leave or… " I started.

"No, it's okay, Mr. Long. I don't want any trouble," she said. The man glowered at her, and then me. All of a sudden his face got a concerned look on it. He was looking past me. Rocko, the bouncer, had just come on duty and had seen the action. He'd come up to us and was standing behind me.

"Tell you what, sir" I said, "if you would just come over to the bar, I'll buy you a drink."

"To hell with it," he said, and he strode off and out.

I looked up at Rocko, all six-eight and three-hundred-and-five pounds of him. "Thanks, Rock, I think you saved a situation," I said. He nodded and headed for the door: his usual station.

"You okay, Helen," I said. She smiled-sort of.

"I'm okay, Mr. Long. But, you? You work here?" she said.

"Yeah, for a while now. I like it. It's a fun job, at least to me?" She nodded her understanding.

"Anyway," she said, "thanks for coming to my rescue. Daryl, Daryl Johnson, that's the man's name, wanted more from me than I was ready or willing to let him have. Guess he figured I owed him." She smiled again, but not enthusiastically.

"Owed him?" I said.

"Yeah, he's helped with some of my bills. Times have been hard since my husband left for parts unknown with his little ball of fluff, that a few months ago," she said. "You know, house payments and such. I'm going to pay him back, I told him that. I just needed a little time. But, he decided that I owed him right now; and well, I don't have the money quite yet. A few more days and I get paid. You know how it is."

"I see," I said. "Helen the guy's a loan shark isn't he?" She looked down.

"Girl, If it's not a secret, how much do you owe the guy and when's the actual deadline?"

"Maybe thirteen hundred dollars," she said. "And, the day after tomorrow."

"A chunk of change for sure, but not all that much, girl. If you'd like, I can loan it to you, so you can get the guy off your back-no strings," I said, hurriedly. "I mean really no strings-really." She smiled.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Long. But, I couldn't do that to you." She was looking around the room. I read her mind. She was clearly appraising my ability to come up with the cash. She knew of course that my wife was into the big bucks, but for some reason I knew she wasn't going to count that.

"Helen, first off, this isn't C&W.; I'm a bartender now, and a pretty good one, but just a bartender. To you my name is Don or Donald, not Mr. Long. Second, it'll be a loan and I do have the money. Besides, the pay ain't that bad here. So, I insist. Wait here for me," I said. I stood and turned on my heels, not waiting for her to say okay. She did wait. And, I returned in less than three minutes and handed her a check. She looked at it.

"Mister-I mean, Don, this is for fourteen hundred; I only need thirteen hundred."

"Yes, and you need a ride home tonight, and-and the taxis around this place ain't cheap," I said. She came to me and planted a scorcher on my embarrassed lips. That one shocked me.

She said her goodbye and started to go, but as she got to the door, she turned back and came to me. I had already made it back to the bar and had started doing some glass washing. She came up to the bar and took a stool. I went to her.

"Mr. Long, I mean Donald, I have to tell you something, and I need to have you hear me. Okay?" She said. I nodded. She was-what-determined.

"Can we go somewhere private?" she said. I nodded and pointed to a door at the end of the counter.

"Follow me," I said. I signaled Janie, to cover and led my wife's secretary into the inner sanctum.

"This is the break room," I said. Have a seat. She looked around the room but made no comment.

"Don, you're a good man. I've known you for a long time. I don't want to see you hurt. What your wife did to you-well-well, we, all of the rest of us in the office know the score. We're all just too scared of losing our jobs to say anything. But…"

"Score? But what?" I said.

"Don, your wife and Mr. Loring-they're-they-they're cheating on you, sir. I mean… " she looked away.

"Everybody knows," she said, I could feel my face flush.

"Huh?" I said. "Everybody knows?" She started to get up.

"I just-well-I don't know what… " she started. She was standing and fidgeting.

I had begun to gather my wits about me. "You know this for sure, Helen?"

"Yes sir. I pay the motel and hotel bills. Sometimes they do it in her office. I've seen her when she comes out-after. A woman knows… " I nodded.

"Thanks Helen. I appreciate your concern. Oh, and that loan I just made to you: it just became an outright gift."

"Mister Long, I couldn't…"

"Yes, you can. A whole bunch of things just became clear to me," I said. "Oh yeah, a whole bunch of things. "But, you need to be getting home now, Helen. I have some thinking to do. And, don't worry, I won't involve you in anything I decide. I promise."

"Thank you sir. I do appreciate that, but I don't care. Right is right. If you need a witness, I will be there for you, and I know a couple of others who will stand by you too. I mean if need be," she said.

----------

All of a sudden, my wife's late night meetings, extended business trips, her joy at my work schedule, all of it, came into focus. I'd sort of suspected, but not really suspected, if that makes any sense whatever. Now, I had to figure out what I needed to do. Confront her? Let it slide and just go on bein' the uninspired ne'er-do-well that I apparently always had been? I had to think and to plan. At least I wasn't still unemployed. At least I had gotten over-to some extent anyway-the humiliation of her and that asshole ex-boss of mine firing me. Now if I could only get over the heartache of her cheating on me, with him. That was going to be a biggee, a really-really big biggee.

It didn't even cross my mind that Helen didn't know what she was talking about. I absolutely knew that she did know what she was talking about; and it was killing me.

My wife had sworn that she'd fired me for non-production, and not for any other reason. Now, I had to believe that there might have been other reasons, personal reasons, for doing to me what she'd done to me.

I also had to ask myself, why she had not just divorced me, if I wasn't her first choice anymore. Call me cynical, but, thinking about it, I had to believe that hers must have been economic reasons. That conclusion was pretty easily come by: she'd lose big time in a divorce. Our state was one of the twenty where an offended could file either fault or no fault. If I could prove adultery, I'd file fault, and she'd likely end up paying me big bucks and that for a long time.

----------

Mister Conroy assured me that he could do the job. An ex-cop, he had turned private-eye after a bullet had torn up his left leg pretty good. I'd been turned on to him by Joey. He wouldn't tell me, but it was clear that the two of them had a history. At any rate, the price was right, and the service was guaranteed-by Joey. Yeah, I know; it seemed peculiar to me too.

It was some three weeks before I got the call. Ironically, during that interlude, Jill and I got along okay, and had even reached the point where she initiated sex on four occasions. To say that I was a willing participant would have been an understatement of heroic proportions, that in spite of my desire to also see her in traction for what she'd done to me. My woman, if indeed it turned out that she still was my woman, was the best piece of ass on the planet as far as I was concerned. I looked over at her now and as she lay fairly well exhausted. We were both naked and smelly and sweat drenched.

"Good for you?" she said.

"Oh yeah," I said. And, I mean oh yeah." She smiled. Tomorrow, I thought, there might be a different song to sing, but tonight that was not the case.

He'd come into the Hungry Bear, had Mr. Conroy, carrying two manila envelopes: one a copy of the other: standard operating procedure, he'd said. He'd left without them. We'd talked a little, he'd outlined the happenings that he'd recorded and left.

I sat in the break room staring at the envelope. I knew what they contained, and I couldn't bring myself to open them and look. The idea of my Jill and that asshole ex-boss of mine fucking up a storm and in living color was too much for me. I took the envelopes out to my car and hid one set the under the seat; the other I would take in with me under my coat. I'd never look at them if I didn't have to, but Jill would if it became necessary.

I pulled into the driveway of our place and sat in the car for some little time. Getting out, I felt like a man walking the last mile. She'd be asleep. I couldn't bring myself to be beside her. I sacked out on the couch. The morning would spell the end of my marriage to the love of my life.

I woke to a stirring upstairs. I sat upright and waited as I heard her come downstairs.

"Donald? Why didn't you come to bed last night," she said. I looked at her. I know my look had to have been ultimately sad.

"Because I didn't want to be sleeping next to Loring's whore," I said. Her face went almost immediately white.

"What are you talking about?" For a long moment I just stood and stared at her. It seemed to unnerve her.

"Jill, let's not play games. I know about you and my ex-boss, and it's over. That is we're over. You get to have him for life now if you want. You just can't have me anymore. I'm not the kind of guy to share the only thing in the world that I ever really valued, you. You're either mine or you're not mine," I said.

"What are you talking about? Loring? What about him?" she said.

"Get this, Jill, and get it good. I-had-you-followed-and-I-have-pictures-and audio-and movies-and all of it! And you know what? It's the audio that's the worst; well, I think it is anyway, I didn't look at the pictures or the movies yet, 'cause the audio destroyed me. The way you talk about me. I didn't deserve that. You didn't need to do that. You coulda had your sex and stuff without doing that to me. I mean you cheating that's one thing, Jill Rodgers, but the pure nastiness of the things you said about me! Hearing you call me a little shit. An untalented boob. Well, you get the idea. It hurt me. It hurt me a lot, Jill. I hope that someday you get some idea of just how rotten a wife you really are. That'll be my hope, and all of the revenge I will ever need. Now, are there any questions?" I said. She suddenly seemed to regain some of her vaunted presence of mind.

"You have to be kidding. You don't have any of those things. Because I never did any of those things," she said. "I've never had any kind of relationship with Loring other than business-ever!" She was screaming. I got up, left the room, and was back in less than a full minute.

"Really?' I said. I tossed her the envelope with the copies of everything I had at her; it bounced off her calf. Now she was shaking.

"What's that?" she said, looking at the envelope at her feet.

"Some of the best pornography you'll ever see," I said. She didn't bother to open it, even pick it up, at least not in front of me. But the wind was out of her sails now.

"So, what are you going to do?" she said.

"Oh, no more denials? No more, 'Brad and me never did anything'?" I said

"What do you want, Donald? An apology? A divorce? Revenge, as you indicated? What?" she said. I think I sneered.

"All of the above," I said.

"All of the above!" She nodded and slumped back into her seat.

"I do apologize Donald. I know it's too little and maybe too late, and very self-serving; but I do apologize. I owe you that. But a divorce…"

"Yeah a divorce," I said. For sure a divorce. The sex, your cheatin', was bad enough; but the things you said about me…"

"Okay, I get it. You want a divorce. Can we at least do it on a civilized level? Do we have to get down in the dirt, and make things worse than they are?" she said.

I looked over at her. "Okay, I'll make it easy for you: civilized if you like. You keep this mini-castle of yours, and everything in it but my personal stuff and our wedding album. And, you pay me five thousand a month alimony. Oh, and you get to keep fucking Loring to your heart's content."

"Too much," she said.

"You're right, no more fucking Loring." I started to laugh.

"Get serious!" she said. "You really are going to get your revenge on me, him and me, aren't you Donald. All we've been to each other comes down to dollars doesn't it. I would have thought better of you than that."

Now I did snicker. "What we have here, dear wife, is the very definition of hypocrisy. You fuck around behind my back, call me all kinds of demeaning names to your lover and who knows to whom else, humiliate me by firing me-for whatever reason and that without so much as a second chance-and then try to lay a guilt trip on me for wanting revenge? You are a piece of work.

"I've got me a place to stay; I arranged for it earlier today when I knew we'd be over as man and wife. I'm leaving now. The next time you hear from me it'll be through my lawyer."

I headed up the stairs. I needed to pack, and I needed to do it fast. I couldn't let her sad face-real or phony-weaken my resolve.

Fifteen minutes later I was standing at the front door with two hefty suitcases. I stared at the woman who had been my wife for so long. She stared back at me. She was holding a drink in her hand. Must have gotten it while I was packing; it looked like whiskey, straight whiskey.

No words passed between us, not even goodbye. I turned, went out, got in my car, and left.

I'd lied about having a place. But, I could motel it. I drove toward town. I had an idea. It was crazy, but it was an idea. I headed for Baker Street.

I sat out in the car for some little time. I finally got out and went up the steps. I knocked.

"Donald?" said Helen.

"Yeah, got a minute?" I said. She stood aside and indicated that I should come in.

I slept on the couch, that was after a long night of me crying on her shoulder and her comforting me. The morning brought me stiff muscles and a raging hunger. I could smell the bacon, and I knew one of my problems was about to be solved.

I got up and headed for the bathroom. She'd said I could use her place for a day or two until I found an apartment. And, no I didn't make a move on her, nor did she on me. Frankly, even though Helen was a looker, I wasn't in the mood for ribaldry right then. And, it was clear to me, and I believe to her as well, that we didn't have anything going in that regard in any event. One, initially having had to wait for the PI's report was bad, finally getting it was worse. And two, my wife's callous attitude, at least it seemed callous to me, was the sword of Damocles finally finding its mark as far as my marriage was concerned. Helen didn't need my baggage, and I was sure I didn't need hers either.

I didn't accept Jill's phony apology, and my revenge would be of the slow and one-sided variety. I knew exactly what I was going to do, but I needed my lawyer to work it out first. And most of all I wanted the two of them served at the same time and preferably when they were together. Oh yes, that was important to me, the timing was important.

I was able to find an apartment in two days, and Helen helped me move in. The Pine Tree apartments were close to work and that was an advantage of some importance to me also, no more of my driving fifteen miles each way every day to the Hungry Bear: two blocks was a monster improvement.

----------

"So he knows, Jill" said Brad.

"Yes. And he's about to get in on the act," she said.

"Huh?" he said.

"We've been fucking each other, and now he's going to fuck us. Seems logical to me," she said.

"Damn! We didn't need this. How did he find out?" he said.

"Don't know, but he did, and he has a whole bunch of audio-visual to support his case. Like I said, we're about to be screwed."

They both started at the voice coming over the intercom. "Ms. Rodgers, there's a man here with a delivery."

"Thank you Helen. You can send him in; we're done in here." She clicked off.

"Miss Rodgers, Mr. Loring, you are served," said the man. He turned and left. The two recipients of his delivery watched openmouthed as he retreated.

"What the fuck is this! He's not married to me," sneered Brad, as he ripped open his envelope. She watched him as he read the edict.

"Well?" she said.

"He's suing me for $100,000 for alienation of affection! The motherfucker! He'll never get away with this. He'll be the one payin' before I'm through," he said.

He watched as she began to open her envelope. "I don't believe this," she said.

"What? He can't get more than half no matter what he thinks," said Brad, anticipating very bad news for his lover.

"He isn't asking for anything. Well, just our wedding album. Nothing else. I don't believe it!" she said.

My cell phone started going off and I knew just who it was. I deleted all calls and messages from her, and smiled the smile of the brilliant. My lawyer was instructed go after Loring and to spare no expense to rape the bastard economically. I had made a deal with the lawyer to give him half of everything he could squeeze out of the fucking oversexed-turnip. It took six months of courts and lawyers and haggling but we ended up getting it all: the whole hundred grand, and with him footing the bill for another $28,000 in costs; I loved it. My law dog got his half and I got mine and I was sixty-four grand-minus taxes-richer, and yes, I got half of the fees.

My lawyer communicated to me that my wife actually shed tears, tears of gratitude, for my letting her off the hook when she'd approached him about the reality of the claims I was making-or-actually, not making. He did so as he delivered to me my wedding pictures. It was a requirement that she not be allowed to keep even a single snap shot from that happy event on pain of having to pay a $100,000 up front penalty and $5,000 a month for the next twenty years and a one-third share of her 401K upon her retirement. I had to figure that she wouldn't be stupid enough to not abide by the rules I'd set forth; she dared not be messin' with me.

I now had the money I needed to get me my condo, one I'd been eyeing since discovering that my marriage was history. My next project was to rebuild my totally destroyed personal life.

At first my job became my life and my de facto wife; even Joey noted it, and he didn't approve. But, it kept me from going nuts. I did see Helen from time to time: dinners now and again. She had become my good friend. She'd come in maybe once a week and keep me up to date on the happenings at Castro and Weintraub; I think it was as much therapy for her as it was for me. Joey sometimes joined us. It was during one of our three-way conversations that he, Joey, learned of the loan shark that had tried to take advantage of Helen. He'd frowned at that. I was pulled aside by him later and asked to let him know if the man ever bothered her again. I looked askance at him, but he didn't elaborate; I didn't push it.

Jill and Loring were still going strong after all of the dust settled. I knew that from what Helen was able to tell me. Well, they were still going strong, yes, but there was a fly in the ointment. I wasn't there on the day that he paid up, but I hear he was very nasty to everyone within earshot, even Jill, if Helen had got it right. Well, that had been at least part of the reason for me going light on her and heavy on him.

Anyway, time passes as it has a habit of doing, and the divorce final, I began a serious search for female company.

I'd been celibate for some seven months and to say I was horny would not begin to express the degree to which such was true. But, females suitable to my purposes were in short supply. Helen was a friend, but again, not that kind of friend. She was pretty, very pretty, but not my type. So, my juices glowed among the flames of my libido. And, just as my plight began to look hopeless, the impossible happened. She came back into my life. No, not my ex-wife. And, the she I'm talking about hadn't changed an iota. All those years, and she hadn't changed. Pauline Carter was as pretty and as delicate a flower as ever she had been.

"Donald! I can't believe it's you!" she said.

"Pauline, you're kinda a sight for sore eyes yourself. I mean how? Where? When?" I said, not quite stumbling over my own words.

----------

"I moved here a year ago, after my divorce," she said. "Let's just say that my ex and I discovered, after forever, that we weren't all that compatible. You?"

"Caught her cheatin'. The divorce was final a couple of months ago. Twelve years plus, and she decides I'm not good enough for her. It was a killer if you know what I mean," I said.

"Really. Must be somethin' in the water," she said. "It was about the same thing for us-me and Rod."

"Yeah maybe," I said.

We talked off and on while I worked, and after I got off, hit the local Hyatt's all night foodery for coffee and a three in the morning snack.

"So you're single again," she said.

"Yeah, I am. Not much fun, but I am single," I said.

"Lookin' for someone one to fill the void?" she said.

"Might be. You wanna fill out an application?" I said.

"Hmm, well, I'm a merciful ex-girlfriend. Your place or mine," she said, as she stood dabbing some crumbs from her lips.

"Mine, it's real close," I said.

----------

"So, you really are here," I said. She smiled.

"Yes, I'm really here. You need a mercy fuck, and I'm here to grant it," she giggled.

"Well, you're right about that," I said. "But, all thoughts of you granting me mercy aside, do you have any idea how much I wanted to have you when we were in high school? Trust me it was more than I could ever express in words."

"Of course I knew," she said. "All of you boys were desperate for pussy. We girls knew it, and we gloried in it. I can tell you without fear of contradiction that Kyle was even more desperate than you. I think I even decided that he was going to be the one to get me first, since Jill didn't want him. I mean because he wanted me more. But, in the end he wasn't. Sad tale that."

"Hmm, I doubt that. That he wanted you more than me; I mean I really did want you. That's why I was around you all of the time. I was protecting you from all of the would-be users and players."

"Yes, and while at first I thought it was kind of sweet, it got kinda old. I was just too chicken to tell you to get lost. I wanted to, then, but ironically, now I've changed my tune," she said. "Of course once we hit the college scene it was a different kettle of fish entirely; the chastity belt was consigned to the round file real fast if you get my drift."

As she spoke she was shedding her clothes. She stopped when she was down to her panties and bra. "You gonna fuck me with your clothes on, big boy?" she said.

"Uh-oh-no-I mean… " I stopped talking and started to get naked too. She continued and soon there was nothing between us but space, certainly there were no clothes between us.

She came to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders and neck. She kissed me. "Nice huh? Pretty good kisser don't you think," she said, as she moved back a few inches to speak and smile up at me.

"More than pretty good," I said.

My cock was poking into her lower belly and she just ground herself against it.

"Don't be foolin' around, Donald. Screw me, take me now. I need it," she said.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Oh yeah!" I pushed her down on the carpet and rolled on top of her. She spread her legs wide to accommodate me. I kissed her lips, then I suckled on her nipples, then I inexpertly poked at her labia trying to enter her without any attempt to use my hands to aim; I was not being very successful.

"Here, let me help you with that," she said. She took hold of my cock and guided it in. I slipped in easily and pushed. I was hilt deep in one try. "Now, do me up good, big guy, do me up good."

I began screwing her slowly. After some little time, she began to buck. "Get with it, Donald; start getting serious!" she urged. I sped up my screwing. In but a few minutes I was near exploding, but I held back as long as I could, and it was more than a challenge to do so. Suddenly her eyes glazed over and she stiffened. I knew she'd made it, and I let loose with everything I had in the sac, and it was one helluva lot!

We lay side by side. I was drained, and she was satisfied, at least for the moment.

"You know you're going to have to do me a few more times tonight, so maybe we should adjourn to the bedroom for the encores if that would be all right," she said.

"I was thinking along the same lines," I said. And that is what we did. Morning would bring the words, but tonight it was only the sex, and nothing but.

----------

"What's the matter honey? You've been out of sorts these past days," said Jill.

"And why wouldn't I be? Your former asshole screwed me over big time. I'll say it again, why wouldn't I be?" said Brad. "I just can't get over it!"

"It's not a problem," she said. "He gets a hundred-thousand. He could have screwed me out of a million if you count all of the property, my retirement and the rest. We'll be fine. Hell, we'll be better than fine. We should thank the silly jackass; invite him to our wedding," said Jill.

The waiter arrived with the check and handed it to him. He looked at it and handed it to her. "You pay it, Jill, you're the one with all the money. Me not so much," said Brad. She gave him an exasperated look, took the bill, got up and headed for the register and paid.

He caught up with her and they exited together.

The ride to their place, her house; the house she'd shared with her ex for so many years was a quiet one.

She smiled at him as he threw his coat over the back of the couch. "Ready for a little fun?" she said, trying to lighten the mood.

He gave her a noncommittal look and followed her up the stairs. The sex was uninspired and once he'd gotten off he rolled over and went to sleep. She bit her tongue. She figured it was going to take time for him to forget what her wimpy-assed ex had done to him. She'd bring him around; it was just a matter of a little time. Suddenly, she caught herself frowning.

Yes, her ex, he'd turned out to be a strange one to say the least. She would be talking with him at some point, oh yes, that was an absolute no brainer! It might be a while, but she'd definitely be having a few words with him whether he liked it or not.

----------

They lay exhausted on the bed in the larger of the two bedrooms of his condo as the sun broke in on their slumber.

"Good for you," said Pauline, "the night?" I smiled up at the ceiling. Without looking at her directly, I addressed her question.

"You have no idea. A woman who actually likes me," I said. I rolled to my right and leaned on my elbow gazing at her. "Good indeed.

"Why didn't we stay together after high school Pauline? Why didn't we just go and get married," I said. She sighed.

"You know why. We were young-too young. And, I liked you, but at the time Kyle as the one. Plus, as soon as we graduated, you ran off and joined the army-for which I had a hard time forgiving you even with Kyle, as I thought then, waiting to get into my pants. He, Kyle, turned out to be a dud of course. Then, I went to college and met Dennis and thought I could be happy with him, so we eventually married, and we were too-happy that is, at first. But, in the end he committed the only crime for which I could not find it in my heart to forgive him: he cheated on me." I nodded.

"Yeah, I can relate," I said.

----------

Pauline and I got along, both in and out of bed. But, neither of us were in a hurry to change our marital status. We were becoming far more than just friends with benefits; but matrimony? Not in the cards, at least not in anything like the near future. And my ex?

It had been two years since the destruction of my home life and marriage. I was still resurrecting my ego and my sense of manhood. I thought about Jill from time to time, sometimes even while I was with Pauline. Too many years together, too much growing together, too much psychological investment, too much of too many things to just forget her. And then I began to hear things from Helen, at first from Helen, and then from others.

There were rumblings in the east that all was not well in cheatersville. Was I interested? Really? Not at first. I had been shit on pretty good by the two of them, and I had to admit to a deal of ambivalence as related to what happened to my ex and her partner in crime. Besides, I expected that they wouldn't be able to make it: they simply weren't good people.

Still I was surprised to hear things that seemed to indicate that Mr. Loring was actually physically abusing his woman, the woman that used to be my woman. I had not forgiven Jill for what she'd done to me, but if he were beating her up-well-that was not acceptable, even given all Jill had done to me, and there was no ambivalence in me about that. Mister Loring had inadvertently put me in a place where I had to decide what to do about it, that is, if I even could do anything about it.

----------

I was wiping dry a glass, and it was taking a while: a sure sign to anybody in eyeshot that I had something on my mind. Joey was within eyeshot.

"Hey Padrino, what's yuh got on your mind? You're wearing a hole in that glass, and they cost money," said Joey, smiling. I looked at him, and he must have noticed that I wasn't smiling back. He sent me a serious look replacing the smile.

"I've been talking with Helen. She's told me things," I said.

"Things?"

"Yeah things. Things about Jill and her asshole."

"Okay?" he said.

"Seems like her asshole is beating her up. She needed stitches for running into the door in the middle of the night," I said. I saw Joey's face darken.

"He's beatin' on his woman?" he said. He had spoken so quietly that I almost didn't catch what he'd said. Sometimes Joey could be scary; this was one of those times.

"That's what Helen told me. Also there are-well, maybe-some irregularities with company funds. The company board wants to talk to Jill about it; Helen said that that much was for sure. If I know my assholes, if there is anything to it, I'm bettin' that it's asshole not Jill that's responsible. She's got too much professional pride to try and cloister cash that ain't hers," I said.

"Any idea how much?" said Joey.

"Not sure, but Helen heard from a friend of hers in accounting that it could be upwards of a mother-in-law," I said. Joey whistled.

"I have a friend or two that I can have look around and see what's what if you'd like," said Joey.

"You'd do that for me?" I said. He and I had been friends for some time, but this was definitely going to take our relationship to a new level. I didn't know all that much about Joey's associates, but there did seem to be damn few people who wanted to mess with him on purpose. Whenever he said something you could bet it was for true and real.

"No problem. Just leave it to me. I'll let you know what I find out. Okay?" he said. I nodded.

"Well sure. Sure!" I said. "I was thinkin' of hiring a private detective. I could afford one for a short time; you know, just to find out a few things. See what's what."

"No need for that. This will be a freebie, I know the guys I'm talking about, and they owe me. They won't be long finding out what's going on. A couple of days max," he said.

We shook on it, and I let the matter slide to the back of my mind for the moment. Like I said, if Joey said it, it was a fact. One day I was going to have to ask my main man just what it was that he had going for him; but, as to that, I was beginning to think that I already knew.

----------

"Jill, this is a very serious matter: $963,000 is not chicken feed. But frankly, even if it was nine dollars and sixty-three cents it would be unacceptable," Said Mr. Terry.

She had been closeted with the three board members for the past three hours going over the books.

"Mr. Terry, John, I can assure that there has been no impropriety as a result of anything that has been happening in this office. And, I promise you I will get to the bottom of this immediately. You will know by the end of the week where the error is to be found, and it is an error; and, it shall have been rectified. All I need are these next three days. My entire staff will be committed to nothing else until the problem is solved," said Jill.

The three men looked at each other. The oldest of the three spoke now. "Jill, when we hired you, and your husband too as I recall, Mr. Weintraub and I had high hopes for you both. I am aware that you actually had to fire your husband some time ago for lack of production. At the time I applauded your moxey and commitment believing that you were putting the company first when it came to business.

"I still have confidence in you. You have your three days. I am hopeful that you will justify that confidence," said Mr. Castro.

"I will sir, and thank you for your consideration." The three men rose, nodded their support, and left. She stood, alone, and flustered for all of maybe a minute.

"Helen, come in please," she said. "And bring your pad."

----------

The four men in the black SUV sat silently waiting. One could imagine Jason Bourne coming around the corner, spotting them, and beginning the cat and mouse game that was the forte of the best of the cinematic thrillers. But, no, this was the real world and considerably less complex or thrilling than the Hollywood variety.

They'd seen her go into the house. She was alone. Her husband would be home soon if he kept to his usual routine. He was the person of interest that the four silent types were wanting to discuss things with.

"It's three minutes to six," said the man in the back, who had been checking his watch almost nervously for the past twenty minutes plus. The guy in the shotgun seat nodded. The man with the watch and his fellow back seat partner got out and headed for the small copse of bushes across the street, at the entryway to the gate. They would be invisible to the car as it came up and stopped to engage the automatic gate opener.

At six o'clock straight up the Cadillac turned the corner and came up to the gate. The SUV pulled rapidly up behind it blocking any chance that the car's occupant had of putting it in reverse and heading out.

Blocking the front were two men in dark suits wearing the mandatory dark glasses. But, it was the fact that each of the men in the front had nine-millimeter Glocks pointed at the driver that made any attempt at forward progress a poor choice.

One of the men on foot went to the driver's side window and motioned the man to get out.

"Don't talk, and you won't be hurt. Talk and it will be your final words in this life," said the man. Brad Loring did as he was told.

"The SUV, get in it. In the back," he was ordered. He did. The other man on-foot got into the Caddy and followed with it behind the SUV. The whole operation had taken less than a minute.

It was 3:00PM and I was opening the HB when Joey pulled into the lot and followed me in. "We'll be working together tonight," said Joey. He was all smiles.

"Joey?" I questioned. He gave me a smirk.

"Your ex-wife is off the hook and will soon be out of a bad marriage," said Joey.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, Mr. Loring confessed to stealing the money and copped to beating on Mrs. Loring on at least three separate occasions. He has been very cooperative with the police. Most of the money has been recovered; all but eighty-thousand that is.

"Most of the money?" I said.

"Yeah, seems Mr. Loring just recently purchased a villa down around Puerto Vallarta. The asshole actually had it in his name. I hate amateur thieves they're the bane of civilization," said Joey. "The guy also has a special bank account that nobody knew about. Not sure where, but the cops know," said Joey. "Anyway, your ex is off the hook; thought you'd wanna know soonest."

"Joey, I don't know what to say. I shoulda just let her sink, but I just couldn't. Know what I mean?" I said.

"Yeah, I do. You're the original good guy. She shoulda stuck with you. But women, who can understand 'em," he said.

"Yeah, go figure," I said.

----------

"Mrs. Rodgers"-she'd resumed her maiden after the fiasco with her husband ended them-"Mr. Castro is here to see you," said Helen.

"Thank you Helen," She rose to meet the Chairman of the Board at the door. She ushered him in and sat opposite him in front of her own desk.

"Well, Jill, I don't know how you did it. But, I always felt you would. Your soon to be ex will be cooling his heels in prison for quite a stretch as I am led to believe. That he was willing to see you go down for it; well, he didn't succeed did he.

I have spoken to the other board members. Mr. Loring evidently has the deed to a villa in Puerto Vallarta. The usual reward for recovering stolen loot is ten percent. Your reward is the villa. It cost close to the ten percent and may one day be worth a sight more. I hope that is satisfactory," said the older man.

"Mister Castro, I don't know what to say. And, to be honest, I don't know why my-soon to be ex-confessed. I didn't even know he'd done what he'd done until the police called me," said Jill.

"Didn't the police give you a clue as to why he copped the plea?" said Mr. Castro.

"Not really. All they said was that he'd been given a choice to confess by person or persons unnamed, who were not very forgiving souls-the police' words almost exactly. The D.A. evidently administered a lie detector test and he passed. He did the crime all right, and now he'll do the time. He did exonerate me in the telling of his story. And really, that's all I know, except that he pled out," she said. "He got ten years, but out in five or six with good behavior."

"You gonna see him?"

"Not sure. I guess I should. I would very much like to know why he did it. He sure as heck didn't have any good reason to. None that I know of anyway."

"Well, whatever you decide, you have my support and the board's." She watched as he left. She'd walked him to the door and smiled the smile of the relieved. She returned to her desk.

She all but fell back into her-what was it that Donald used to call it? Oh yeah, her throne. She'd almost been dethroned, and that by the man she had allowed to come between herself and good 'ole not very smart Donald, Donald Long. That seemed like forever ago now. But, in point of fact, it had been but three years.

Hadn't seen him in a couple of those years. Was he still a bartender? She'd meant to talk to him again, but it had never happened, never seemed to be a good time. She smiled at that. Good old Donald, dependable, lovable, and complete loser Donald. Still, he hadn't tried to hurt her-not ever. Even in the divorce he had let her off. All he'd asked for were their wedding pictures, all of them. She'd wondered at that. She still wondered at that. Why did he want them? Why? Truth told she'd lost some sleep over that. There had to have been a reason. Maybe someday he'd tell her, but, then again, maybe not.

I will go see my asshole soon to be ex-husband, she decided. Closure would be good.

----------

The room was small, but at least it was private. Once he was sent up to state prison, it was going to be worse-much worse for him and any visitors that he might have. Here, in county, it was almost a country club compared to state prison, she knew. She heard the rattle of keys.

He looked older in the orange jump suit as he entered followed by a guard. He took the seat opposite her. The guard left them alone and closed the self-locking door behind himself. "Well, this is a surprise," said Brad.

"I decided I had to come and see you, once. I don't know why," she said.

"Well, if you're looking for sex, it's gonna be a while," he said. She didn't smile at his weak attempt at humor.

"No, no, not sex. That will never happen again, not between you and me. No, Brad, I came to ask you why. Why did you try to ruin me? Why did you use my office to embezzle the money? I'd really like to know," she said. He snickered.

"I didn't try to ruin you. You were just-what? Collateral damage I think is the term. I had access to the money your office had oversight over, I needed it to cover-well-some loser sport's teams I'd had, shall we say, very strong fiscal confidence in. They disappointed me. And, well, that left you open to accusations. It was just all about the money. I needed it, it was never about you; and, C&W; had it, I mean the money. What can I say, I needed to retire-early. The irony? Another week, and I'd have been gone. I had a sure thing." He smiled, but it was a sardonic smile.

"Gone? You were just going to leave me open to charges of felony embezzlement?"

"Like I said, collateral damage," said Brad, "nothing personal. She just stared at him.

"Well, looking at it now, even Donald doesn't look so bad does he? Donald wasn't much at business, and his bedroom skills may have been less than so-so, but he was loyal and loving. You on the other hand were great in bed and good at business, and unquestionably the most completely lousy, treacherous, miserable example of a human being I ever knew. Go figure," she said.

"I guess that means we aren't friends anymore, right? Yeah, well, go get good 'ole Donald baby back if you're so stuck on the loser," said Brad. "I'm bettin' you could still do it." She smiled at him.

"Goodbye, Brad. Oh, and don't be expecting a card on Valentine's day," she said. She got up and was gone.

----------

I was on duty and mixing a batch of margaritas for a table full of college students. "Hi handsome," said Pauline.

"Hi backtacha, gorgeous," I said. "You're here kinda early." I could see Joey At the other end of the bar eyeing her; well, she was lookin' real good.

"Hey, how about me?" said Helen, as she sidled up to the bar with us.

"Helen? Hi," I said.

"Me too," said Pauline. "Anything new on the grapevine?"

"Hmm, maybe. But I need one of those," she said.

"Got it," I said, as I finished building the margaritas for the college contingent and signaled to Janie to deliver them. Filling Pauline's and Helen's orders, and having delivered them myself; I made my way to the other end of the bar; I'd gotten a high sign from Joey.

"She looks good tonight," he said.

"Which?" I said.

"Pauline of course," said Joey, "both, but especially Pauline."

"Hmm, yeah, am I going have to fight you for her" I said. I was grinning. He just smiled and shook his head.

Returning to my women, I smiled my good fortune at having two friends like them. "So, maybe what?" I said, looking at Helen. She looked up at me and was too smiling.

"Nothing really. Just gossip," she said.

"Helen!" Get it out, okay."

Pauline was just stirring her drink, who stirs wine for goodnesssakes. It was clear to me, that while I was talking to Joey, that Pauline had gotten something out of Helen. I looked from one to the other.

"What?" I said.

"Your ex has been talking about you. It was at a luncheon. I was at the next table so I could be handy if she needed me. She was talking generally about men, but both you and Loring were mentioned by name," said Helen.

"I take it what she had to say wasn't all that complimentary," I said.

"Don't take it to heart, Donald. Helen told me what she said, and I'm thinking it was just sour grapes," said Pauline. I looked over at Helen. She knew I wasn't goin' for any more stonewalling.

"She was talking to another female staff member at C&W;, Dolly Clements. They'd been drinking a little and were a bit louder than they'd ought to have been. I heard them pretty good," said Helen.

"And?" I said. I was becoming a little exasperated.

"She just said… Loring was treacherous asshole," said Helen.

"Yes?" I said. She said you were loyal and honest."

"And?" I said.

"Nothing," said Helen.

"Helen!" I was really getting impatient with her.

"She said you weren't very good at business…"

"Helen!" she sighed.

"And she said you weren't much of a lover," said Helen. Helen had said the last very quietly. I guess I frowned. "But she did repeat that you were loyal and trustworthy, and honest."

"Well, I guess it could have been worse. I could have been useless at business, worthless in bed, and a disloyal untrustworthy asshole," I said, not quite spitting out the words. "At least I'm not the one in jail."

"Donald… " started Pauline.

"The woman just can't seem to get enough of putting me down, and now publicly. One has to love it-not," I said, interrupting her.

I hadn't noticed, but Joey had moved in close to us. He'd heard every word. He gave me a knowing look.

"One of these days she'll be getting a surprise," he said. "A big ass surprise."

"Yeah, well whatever," I said.

----------

It was a week later that I got the visit, one I had "not" been expecting. It was also one of the relatively rare occasions when I worked at The Outlaw. Mac Tilden, the manager, was out sick, actually a ruptured appendix. He'd be out at least a week. I was the substitute of choice, Joey's choice.

It was Tuesday evening and it was getting late, maybe a little after eleven. It was just me and Claire Duffy, Mac's right hand at tending bar, and Philby Jordan-Mac's resident 300 pounder. Each of Joey's places had a largish bouncer, and I hear tell that Philby enjoyed his work-a lot.

I looked up in time to see her take a seat against the far wall and stare at me. I continued working behind the bar getting things ready for the midnight closing. Only a couple of diehard blue collar types were still nursing their beers. Making Memories of Us, by Keith Urban, lent a kind of melancholy atmosphere to the room's environment.

I saw Claire take her order and come back to me to get it. "She wants a martini, and she wants you to deliver it," said Claire. "I'll tend while you get whatever you gotta do done if you want." I nodded and put my towel down on the top of the behind-the-bar-frig. I made the martini and made to bring it to her.

When I came up to her, I was seeing a woman with a very pronounced sadness in her eyes. I put the martini down on the table in front of her. She didn't say anything, not at first.

"Claire said you wanted me to deliver this. I want to believe it wasn't so you could just humiliate me again, make me serve you; so you must have wanted to tell me something. Or, am I wrong?" I said.

"Oh, Donald, God no. The last thing I want to do is add any shit to all of the stuff I've already piled on you. No, I came here to apologize, actually. I'd give anything to undo all of the bad that's gone on.

Anything!" she repeated.

"That it?" I said. She nodded.

"I guess. Well, it's-well-it's kinda up to you."

"How so?" I said.

"Well, I did say I'd do anything," she said. The innuendo was unmistakable.

"Anything covers a lot of territory," I said.

"It's meant to," she said.

"You talking about sex? I mean I'd have a hard time believing you wanted me to do you: me with my dinkie dick and all. The rumor is that I'm no good in bed. I mean and, well, after everything you've said about me," I said.

"Donald, I said I was a complete shit. And yes, I have said some pretty derogatory things about you. But, also yes, Donald, sex and anything else you might like is what I'm offering. Donald, I want you back. This time it will be me doing the giving. I will make any sex between us the best it has ever been. And I mean the absolute fucking best," she said.

"Again, what I hear, the sex between us was never the best of any kind. Kinda shitty actually," I said. "Anyway, that's what I heard. Did I maybe hear wrong?"

It seems so long ago now," she said, shaking her head. "Everything that's gone down, especially the sex." She paused.

"I did have to fire you, Donald, but everything else was not you, including the sex, that was me. And I was wrong and bad and lost and so many other things. I know it now. I see it all very clearly now," she said.

"You 'had' to fire me? You couldn't have given me a second chance?" I said.

"I could have, and then I would have had too fire you later, Donald. You really didn't have the right stuff for the job you were doing. My decision to fire you was strictly a business one. I knew that doing it the way I finally decided to do it would be a major stinger for you, but a lot easier than you coming home every night looking at me and wondering whether or not you had measured up that day-I mean business-wise," she said.

"Was I really that bad?" I said. "I mean really? And that Montrose thing, I can't believe what you say they did to me. I still can't," I said. She nodded.

"Yes, Donald, it, you, were that bad. I talked to Dale Montrose himself. He said you were a nice guy but you were too willing to knuckle under to the employees at the expense of the company. The company, Donald, is our client, not the employees.

"Anyway, that's water under the bridge. It's the other stuff that I am here begging your forgiveness for. For cheating on you and talking smack about you when you had every right to talk smack about me. I was the asshole not you, not ever you," she said. I nodded and changed the subject.

"Hear that good 'ole Brad is doing time for messin' with company funds," I said. She looked at me strangely.

"Yes, yes he is. Once we married, it developed that he got bored with me pretty fast, I guess. He had a new bimbo almost weekly, as I found out much later, and he was gambling. He wanted out and wanted out with a nice retirement package. I was to be, how did he say it; oh yes, I was to be collateral damage."

"Nice guy," I said. "You gonna divorce him?"

"Yes. I already have; well, I've had him served. It will be a few months before it's final.

"Don, I want you back. How about it? Give me a chance?" she said. "And, one more thing, Don, if you will. It seems almost inconsequential given everything else that's gone down; but, if you are willing to take me back; well, I would like, make that love, to become Mrs. Donald Long. I'd be honored. Really."

It took me a few seconds to grasp what she was saying. Then, it hit me. She wanted to marry me and take my last name!

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Those many years ago, I was prideful and selfish and inconsiderate of my man's, your, feelings. That situation is no longer the case. If you can see your way clear to begin to forgive me, I promise to be a dutiful wife and a loving one."

I looked at her long. "Jill, I have loved you more than my life and I still do, but marry you again. I can't see it bein' in the cards. It's a matter of the words; I can't get by the things you said about me. I almost wish I could, but it's too late, just too late.

Just then, while I was still standing, not sitting, by her; Joey came in.

"I see you two have met," he said, not at all sarcastically. "Refills?"

I didn't have a drink, I was on duty, but he was looking at me when he said it.

"I'm on duty, boss," I said. "Surprised to see you."

"Just dropping by my places checking on things. Hmm, and yes about the drinking on duty, but I'm waving the requirement for you to be dry for the moment. I don't want to drink alone," he said. I smiled.

"Okay then," I said. We talked for an hour while Claire held down the fort. By the time he left I was more than a little conflicted. Jill? I couldn't read her, but there was something goin' on in that pretty head of hers; that much was certain. I knew for pretty certain that Joey hadn't told her of my part in saving her ass, but there was something there, something going on.

----------

Two days later, I was still holding down the fort at the Outlaw. Joey had come in early and opened. Claire was on duty, and Philby would be showing up at seven o'clock, it bein' a Friday night. Claire was giving orders to a vendor for supplies. Joey put down the phone that had held his attention for some little time. It was just after 3:30 in the afternoon; he came up to me.

"How are things today?" he said.

"Good boss. We've got things under control," I said.

"Yes, well, I meant with you and your ex-wife," he said.

"Huh? Jill? Nothing. Really. Her showing up the other night was a surprise, but not something I was-comfortable-with. Look, boss, the true fact is that I still love the woman more than anything in the whole world. But, the counterpoint, the counterpoint if that's the word, is that she doesn't love me. She's shown that in so many ways-that-well, I don't know what, that, why… " I ran out of words. Joey smiled at me.

"I've been around a bit, Don. I mean around. She loves the hell out of you. She just didn't understand that herself before. As smart as I'm sure she is, emotionally, she is still a woman. Women, Don, have two parts: one the practical and focused, two, the sexual and emotional. Those two parts, Don, are constantly at war with each the other. And, it is problematical which part might be in control at any particular moment in time."

"Maybe boss. But, well, there's a lot of water under the bridge and it is brackish and toxic." I looked down.

"I am sure that there is, Donald, but that's the point. That water, that brackish water, has indeed passed under the bridge and gone on to never be seen again. The new water is not toxic. I heard what she was saying, and more, I heard how she said it. Tone means a whole lot more than words do. Her tone was telling. And, it's telling you she is sick at heart and in major love with you. Don't let this opportunity pass you by. Sit down with her, alone, and get it done. Get by it. You need her as much as she needs you; I know it," said Joey. I nodded, but I wasn't sure what I was nodding about. My mind was a cacophony of her and everything that had gone on for the past few years. Opportunity? That remained to be seen.

I was looking toward the door. She did look good as she sashayed in.

"Pauline, you look fantastic," I said.

"Why thank you, sir," she said.

Two or three early bird cowboy wannabes leered in her direction; well, she did look very good.

Pauline was in the mood. One cowboy then another asked her to dance and she said okay. I smiled my approval, as if I had any say in the matter? I mean she and I had something going, but nothing exclusive per se-yet. And, that brought up a question as I watched her float around the dance floor with her partners. Why was I delaying in making her exclusive? Why didn't I make Pauline exclusive back in the day? Then, it came to me: we weren't really meant to be more than good friends, and occasionally friends with benefits, like now. I had to think she knew it too. Still…

Pauline and I were getting older. We were both alone and neither of us were liking it much. Could be we needed each other. Maybe we needed to make it, our relationship, exclusive. It was something to consider.

It looked to be déjà vu all over again, as the great Yankee seer once pronounced. She slapped him hard, hard enough to knock him back on his heels. He grabbed at her and pulled her along with him toward the door; he, they, almost made it.

"Leave her alone, sir," said Joey. He had interposed himself between the door and the cowboy.

"Fuck off asshole," said the cowboy. "She's been cock teasin' me and my friends for the last two hours. She and I have a date."

His two pals had been laughing at the action, but with the appearance of Joey, they'd been moseyin' closer and closer to the scene.

I saw Joey smile, but it was not the kind of smile meant to indicate anything pleasant. Joey was not a big man, maybe five-ten and one-seventy-five; but the punch that felled the cowboy looked as if it had been delivered by a John L. Sullivan.

The cowboy was up in a flash sneering something about a sucker punch. The three of them were on him and the very weight of them drove him back against the wall. They began to pummel him. I was already running to where the action was taking place and Claire was on the phone.

I came up behind one of the henchmen and delivered a true sucker punch to his left kidney. His scream was actually blood curdling. The new betting line was six-to-five and pick it. As Joey handled the big guy, I was doing okay with the leftovers; well, if trading blows one on one with him could be defined as doing okay.

Joey was creaming the big one. I saw out of the corner of my eye that he had delivered at least a half dozen unanswered hits to the head and body. Big wannabe tottered, and then he was down and struggling to get up.

Joey stood over him, and muttered something I was too busy to hear. Finally, my dance partner backed off holding his hands in front of him to show he was looking for a truce. I let my hands drop, but I kept my eye on him.

"You okay, boss," I said, chancing to look in his direction.

"Yeah, yeah. You?" he said.

"Yeah, I'm good. But what about these guys? They gonna get a free brew at the bar or a cup of ice water behind bars?" I said.

Joey smiled. "A free brew at the bar, of course. That okay with you gentlemen?" said Joey, scanning the wreckage. The two henchmen nodded vigorously as they helped their fallen leader to his feet. I headed back to the bar to pull their yellow pepsis for them. I felt like laughing but restrained myself; it wouldn't do to rub it in.

"You're a pretty tough guy, Mr. Luca," said Pauline. Joey preened.

"I do okay," he said.

Just then the cops showed up. Joey met 'em at the door and explained the situation. The older one, one I'd seen around some, smiled and waved to me; I waved back. They talked maybe a minute more with Joey and left.

"Say, since you're clearly in awe of my knightly skills, whaddya say to having dinner with me, girl?" said Joey. Pauline glanced in my direction. I shrugged and smiled. They headed out arm in arm.

Though a little surprised, I didn't feel put out by Joey's attention to Pauline. If anything, I was intrigued. Still, if he was figurin' on makin' a move on my girl of the moment, I'd have to be lookin' for a replacement; that thought also intrigued me.

Claire had been wiping down some tables when all of the foregoing went down and she stopped as Joey and Pauline disappeared out the door. She came to me.

"Donald? You okay?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Pauline and I are just good friends, not exclusive or anything. I am a little surprised, but no more than that. I'm fine." She nodded.

"If you're looking for a replacement… " she started.

"You?" I said. She laughed.

"No, no. I'm married and I would never cheat on my man. He really is the best for me, the one for me. No, I was thinking you might want to give your ex a second chance. And, yes, I know, everybody knows that she didn't give you one. But, well, I saw the goings on the other night. That woman wants to make amends, and she wants to do it in bed, so let her. Trust me, mister, I know what I'm talking about."

I just looked at her, and I think I nodded in the affirmative. Give Jill a second chance like she didn't give me? The thought was tantalizing, and, wrong. Still, if it just hadn't been for all of those demeaning things she'd said about me, Jesus, that woman nearly destroyed my sense of self.

----------

I'd made the call not ten minutes after talking to Claire in the bar. She, Jill, agreed to meet me at the local IHOP on 3rd. She was already there when I arrived. I took a seat opposite her and just looked at her. Well, she was doing the same to me.

"Donald?"

"Yes, I know. I have to say I just don't know what to say. Yes, I called this little sit down, but…"

"I understand. You want to eat a little something first? I'm a bit hungry, not famished, but a bit hungry," she said. I nodded my agreement.

We chewed, and we talked a little, just about our day; it helped lighten the atmosphere. But, inevitably, the time came when we had to get to it. For the first time in years I actually found myself feeling nervous. I put my fork down, wiped my mouth, and placed both hands in front of me on the table.

"The things you said, Jill. Why? I know we've been over this before, but I just can't get over it. It's the main sticking point for me," I said. She sighed.

"Donald, I don't know why. Not really. I guess it was just me being prideful, not realizing what I had. That I am mortified by the realization of just what a shit I was goes without saying. What is equally true, Donald, is that it will never happen again! About that there is no fucking doubt whatsoever."

"Donald, there is something else," she said. She'd been looking down at the contents of her stem glass. Now, her eyes came up to meet mine.

"Okay, what?" I said.

"Please promise me that you won't get mad. Okay?" she said.

"Why would I get mad, Jill? Okay, I promise," I said.

"Because I am breaking a confidence in telling you," she said. I could feel my eyes narrow.

"And?" I said.

"Donald I know that you were the one who saved me, at least the one who is responsible for saving me, if that's the right way to say it," she said. I could feel my face flush.

"Joey?" I said. She nodded.

"We talked. He likes you a lot, and he trusts you. I guess he knows people who can fix things, make things right if he wants. He says you wanted to protect me.

"That stopped me if you know what I mean, I mean when he told me. I mean after everything I did to you, you still were there for me for the final act. I so didn't deserve your help-hell I'm gonna say it-your love!" she said. "No matter what you decide tonight or some other night, Donald, you can believe that I will never forget what you did for me, never!"

"Jill, I-I-I don't know what to say. I will always be there for you in a pinch, girl. I love you. But…"

"But, not enough, I guess," she said. She looked so sad, I felt like crying myself. I made a decision, a tentative decision.

"Look, Jill, I'm-I'm willing to give it a try. I mean we could maybe live together. You know, see if it could work… " I said.

She looked up at me and then she screamed. "Oh my!" She jumped up, wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big kiss. "I won't disappoint you, my darling man. I won't! And, you've got your job back with a raise…"

"No, no. I like it at the Hungry Bear. I like working for Joey. Looking at it now, three years removed. I think you were right. I was just no damn good at what I did back then, not good enough at any rate. I won't saddle you with me.

"There's a lot of water under the bridge, Jill. You and your cheating on me. And the words. But, that said, we can try. I'm willing to try. People make mistakes. So, one more time I guess. I mean if you want," I said.

"I want, Donald. As for the cheating-my guilt and remorse knows no bounds, really. I will damn straight make it up to you. I promise," she said.

We talked a little longer and then we went home. Home to my place for the day. We'd be getting a new place; the old place held too many bad memories now. I'd made that request of her, and she'd agreed without a second thought. I began to feel that we would make it.

Getting ready for bed that night, I got the question. I was ready for it.

"Donald, can I ask. Why the wedding pictures?" she said. I looked at her for some moments before answering.

They were important to me, and I realized that they never had been to you. I thought that, if you had them, you might destroy them; or Brad might have. Like I said, I loved you still even after everything. I did not want the good memories lost. Call me a hopeless romantic," I said.

----------

Epilog: It's been six months since we made the move. We now lived in a new condo, on the tenth floor. Very expensive, but also very nice. We're happy.

Pauline has set a date for her and Joey-who is ten years her senior-to get hooked up. She'll be good for him. The two of them are a constant at our place and the reinforcement we get from them has helped a lot. The future is looking pretty good.

-----------------------------

   Series:Jimmy and Claire
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She genuinely loved two men, that was the problem
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/63281/jimmy-and-claire
Published:2010-03-01
She sat across the table from me. She hadn't been saying anything. Not surprising. She looked up, finally, and started. "Jimmy, it was never the case that I didn't love you. You have to believe that," she said. "I'm not sorry I did it, but I am very sorry that I have hurt you. Really."

Not sorry she did it! My stomach began to roil, but I was able to maintain my self-control for the moment. "Not sorry you did it? Not sorry you did it, Claire! And why, after telling me that, would you imagine that I have to believe anything you say? You've been fucking him-how long? For how many years? Sounds to me like you love 'him', not me" I said, feeling very logical, especially in view of the fact that she was not sorry she did it.

"It's not like you think, Jimmy. Really it isn't," she said.

"Claire, it is clear to me, that it's exactly like I think it is. I have the audio, and I wish I hadn't gotten it; but your behavior…

"You're pretty nasty the way you talk about me, the both of you. 'Wimpy Jimmy just doesn't do it for me," you said. 'You're the only one who gets my butt', you said of him. That one really rankled, Claire." Her hand came to her mouth as she realized I knew more than she thought. "Doesn't leave a lot of wiggle room for misunderstanding does it," I said.

"James Lytle, I was a shit, okay! I'm sorry. But, I do love you. Really, I mean it. But…"

I looked at her. She was wringing her hands. "But what?" I said, in what can only be described as a sardonic tone of voice.

"But-I have loved two men," she said. "You Jimmy-and-Reed." I always have, even back when we were all in college, and both of you were on the football team and big heroes and everything." I sat up straight and stared hard at her.

"You were banging him even then?" I said. She looked down.

"Yes."

"Fuckin-A," I said. "You are a piece of work for damned sure. Tell me, if you don't mind. I mean since we seem to be in the mood for true confessions here. Why two men, and why my best bud? Why my best fucking friend!"

"Jimmy, that is one question that I do not have the answer to. I feel all warm and cuddly when either of you is near me. I feel safe and loved and yes, excited. I love it when I see you trying to hide your hardon, Jimmy. You know when I dress sexy and stuff.

"And when Reed drops his pants and starts undressing me, I get the same feeling. I don't know why," she said.

"Okay, I'll bite. If all of that is so, then why do you bad mouth me to him?" I said.

"He knows about you; you don't know about him-didn't until now that is."

"And that explains what?" I said. "Certainly not why you did it, I mean said those things," I said.

"If it had been reversed, I…"

"Yeah you'd have said the same things about him, right? Baloney! You hold me in contempt. That's what it is, and not him. And, I still don't know why. Haven't I treated you right all of these years? Wasn't I there for you whenever you were down. And, for that I get 'put' down! Thanks one fucking helluva lot. Great fucking wife you are for damn sure. With a wife like you I'd be a helluva lot better off single, Claire.

"I think you despise me. You don't love me. You love my money maybe; I'd buy that," I said. "He doesn't make nearly as much as I do, not since the real estate market crashed. I got that from your conversations with him, the ones on the recorder. That's it isn't it. You need me, but you want him. Fuckin'-A! Well, I'm gonna make it easy for yuh, or maybe it'll be hard for you-no pun intended. So fuckin' goodbye, Claire; in hindsight I can't say it's been all that wonderful." I rose and started for the door. She jumped up and grabbed my arm trying to pull me back to the table.

"Jimmy, you've gotten it all wrong! Really you have. Money! I don't care about your money; I want you!" she all but screamed. I yanked my arm from her grasp causing her to stumble back into her seat.

"Why is it, do you think, Claire, that I have a hard time believing you," I said. "I need to get out of here; it's hard for me to even look at you." I turned once more and headed out, this time with a more determined stride. I thought I heard her start to sob just as the door slammed behind me.

******

I met Claire Wilson seventeen years earlier. She was a college band member-piccolo. I was a linebacker. We met at a season's end sports awards banquet; I was runner-up defensive player of the year; Reed Billings, a defensive end, won it. We'd only managed 8-4 that year, but at least it wasn't a losing season.

Claire was there with other members of the school's band and had bumped into me as I was getting a beer; she'd made me spill it all over her. That led to a lot of stuttering on my part, a lot of giggling on her part, and a lot subsequent dating on both of our parts. We graduated a few months later: me in Criminal Justice and her in Art History. It was a year later that we tied the knot.

Children had not been in the cards; she didn't want them. I was kinda disappointed, but agreed to follow her lead; it was her body after all.

Now, seventeen years later, we were both in our late thirties. She worked as an art museum curator and I was a private dick. I had been on the force for some years until I caught an errant slug in the knee that almost cost me my leg; it did cost me my job on the force. I was a bit gimpy now, but in otherwise good shape. Oh, and as for shape, my soon to be ex-piccolo playing wife was also in primo shape: dark hair, green eyes, five-seven, one-fifteen with a butt to guarantee her immortality: she was definitely the cat's meow! Oh, and did I mention a cheating whore! Okay, so I'm bitter.

I knew now why she didn't want any children, at least not children with me. Looking at it now, that was a good thing. It would have been a major complicating factor in our divorce. What the hey, there were upsides to everything.

******

Claire:

As I sat there looking out the window, I was wondering what was going to happen to me now. Jimmy was crazy jealous. How he'd managed to find out about me and Reed was a mystery, but he had; hey, he's a detective. Him setting us up and taping us, while we fucked, had been the final straw. Reed didn't know yet. I had to tell him. He was bigger than Jimmy, a lot bigger. If Jimmy went after him, Reed might hurt Jimmy bad. Jesus, what a mess! I picked up the phone.

"Yeah it's me… no, no, shut up and listen; Jimmy knows… Yeah, fucked up about covers it… No,no, are you nuts! If he sees you, I don't know what he might do… I know you're bigger, but he is awfully upset… I tried, but he wasn't buyin' any… No, no, he's kinda old fashioned that way… okay tomorrow."

Well, I warned him. If Jimmy showed up at his house at least he wouldn't be able to say I let him down.

I had to figure a way to get Jimmy to forgive and forget. I didn't know if it were even possible, but I had to try. I make a quarter what Jimmy makes if that. My job is little more than a hobby. Jimmy pays all of the bills. Reed used to do okay, but since the economy went into the shitter the real estate agency he works for is not doing too well; hell, he makes even less than I do some months.

I've really screwed up this time. Plus Jimmy is a PI. Hiding shit from him would be impossible. I don't want to anyway. He needs to know that I love him, but that I also love Reed. Why the fuck have I bad mouthed him so much to Reed! My stupidity is always getting me into trouble. Shit-shit shit!

******

She'd called me a wimp. Where in the hell had that come from? It wasn't that I'm some giant egotist, but I have thought myself a man of honor. Well, whatever I was, I knew what she thought of me.

As for my so called best friend, Reed; well, that backstabbing asshole has no honor regardless of what she thinks or doesn't think. I'd be taking care of him at some point but how still remained a question. Still, I figure it was Claire who started it all. She had the goods to drive any man out of his mind.

It was Claire that said she wanted two men. I figured she probably lent him the opportunity and he took it. I wondered if he had given any thought to our friendship in the doing of it all; I doubted it. Reed was undoubtedly thinking with his little head at the time. Probably thought he could keep it quiet and secret from me. How'd the old saying go, "What the clueless cuckold doesn't know can't hurt him"?

She mentioned something about, "If things had been reversed… " Yeah, if they had would I have double crossed my friend, even for a piece of ass as good as Claire's? I'd like to think I have more character than that. I had had opportunities to cheat over the years, and that with some pretty primo strange. That fucking asshole Reed should not have done this to me. He should not have! Now, his actions, and hers, were going to destroy us. Seventeen fucking years. Seventeen fucking years! Damn it!

******

Reed:

Shit, he knows. Bad-bad-bad. He'll wanna fight me now, redeem his honor, redeem his manhood. Hell, I would too. He'll go down of course. He's five-eleven one-ninety to my six-five two-seventy-five. He knows he has no chance to win going toe to toe with me. But, he has to do it; I know him. He has to try me. Then what? He's in the hospital, maybe I'm in jail. Claire-who knows who she'll visit first or more often? She does have feelings for him too; I know that; she's told me often enough, "ad nauseum" actually. I was okay with it, with her loving him, or at least her saying she does.

We'd said some pretty nasty smack about him, though, when we were fucking: wimp, dinky dick, clueless dumbass. It was all bullshit of course, just to heighten the sexual tension, I guess. Hell, really, I think we said that stuff more to cover our own shortcomings, our betrayal of him than anything else; none of it was true in any event; it was just words, meaningless words.

How much does he know? Well, anyway he is a wimp. He never put his foot down with Claire; she has him so pussywhipped it isn't even funny. Hell, I'm surprised that after she found out she'd, we'd, been spied on and outed by his investigators that she didn't get mad and take him over her knee and spank him. It would have been in character for him to take his punishment and apologize. And yet…

Well, she didn't, and now maybe we'd pushed him past his limits. She could do anything she wanted to him except cheat on him. And now he knew she had with me, and now there was going to be hell to pay. At least I didn't have a wife to worry about.

******

I stared at his front door; I was holding a tire iron. I didn't intend to use it, but if he had something, I'd be ready. I mean when I went up there and confronted him-had she already warned him? Would he be armed? I had to be ready. She probably had warned him, I knew. But, hell it didn't matter. Armed or not, it was going to happen; it had to. Could I take him? I figure if I got the first shot in and kept the pressure on; well, maybe I could in spite of his size.

I rapped on the door. He answered it. He looked at the tire iron I held in my hand. "I see you brought a friend," he said, nodding at the makeshift weapon. "Kinda cowardly even for you dontcha think." I snickered and threw the tire iron to the side.

I stepped back and asked him to come out onto the lawn. I was faster than he was, at least with my hands. My gimpy leg I had long since learned to compensate for, so I wasn't worried about that. But, I did need room to maneuver if I was going to have any chance.

"Well, hello asshole," I said as he squared off in front of me.

"Jimmy, we don't need to do this. Hey look, I'm sorry man. It was-well-she loves us both. I know she told you that. And for the record, no matter what you think, I love both of you: her and you, Jim." He said. My hand flashed and he staggered back red painting his face.

I was on him letting rights and lefts loose without stopping. He finally decided he'd had enough and countered. I stepped back quickly and his wild punch carried him to the ground. First round to me.

He got up slowly, and the look in his eyes was not friendly. I started to say something, but never got it out. A left hook staggered me and sent me reeling against the side of the house. He was bleeding from the nose and mouth, but he was not really hurt, not close. His next blow relieved me of every scintilla of air I had in me. Soon, I was the bloody mess. He rained terrible blows to my ribs and face. But, it was the vicious kick to my groin that finally put me down and out of action.

"You didn't have to do this, man. We could have gotten by it," he said.

"No, no we couldn't have," I squeaked. "And this is not the end of it either, old bud," I said, as sarcastically as I could. Just then we both looked down the street. Two black and whites were coming with sirens blaring.

Several neighbors, no doubt they who had summoned the police, stood around as the cops asked questions of everybody present.

"Yes, officer, the smaller man started it-no the big guy didn't act aggressively at first-yes we saw it all-the little guy had that when he came up," said one guy, pointing to the discarded tire iron. "Yes we'll testify…"

******

Yeah, I'd lost the fight, but I'd had to try. I'd had to. Oh, and I was fucked legally too; a jail cell awaited me when I got out of the hospital. It seems that it's okay to cuckold a man for years but not for him to object too strenuously.

I spent the next week in the hospital. My so called wife tried to visit me a couple of times, but I put the boff on that: I guess even a cuckold had some rights.

The day I was to be released two rather large fellows in uniform arrived to cuff me and escort me to my new-hopefully temporary-digs. I hadn't even tried to contact my lawyer yet; I intended to rectify that little faux pas at the earliest opportunity; you'd have thought that an ex-cop and PI-me-would have known better; well, I'd had other things on my mind.

It was late on a Friday when the hospital released me. It looked like I would have to spend at least the weekend behind bars so Michael Wentworth III, my friend and legal advisor, advised me. Helluva thing. I got lucky, I suppose, and had a cell all to myself, must have been a slow week.

"Look, Jimmy, you have to see Claire. Maybe she can get your ex-bud to drop the charges. Hell, the way I see it, she owes you that much," said Michael.

"Mike, I hate those two. I really, really, don't want to beg her for a favor, can't you do something? The humiliation I've already had heaped on me is enough, dontcha think?" I said.

"Yeah maybe, but a year in the can would be a helluva lot worse," he said. "Jimmy, listen, you gotta put your tail between your legs and beg her to intercede with the guy. If you don't, you'll be saddled with a record, a felony record; you'll lose your licenses," said my friend, my lawyer. "If you hadn't brought that damned tire iron with you…"

I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath and nodded. "Set it up, the meeting with her," I said. "Here. I will see her here, in the can. Can you work that?"

"Yes, I can do that. I mean if she agrees. I'll try for today. Sit tight; I'll be back shortly."

"Jim, I know it's the shits, but we don't have much choice. Even if I get it knocked down to a misdemeanor; the effects would only be slightly better. Anyway, I'll be right back."

He was gone for an hour. But, it was okay. I needed the time to think. I felt sick to my stomach. I really couldn't stand the thought of begging those two.

"She'll be here shortly," he said, returning to inform me.

We talked for some time before a guard came to the cell door indicating that I had a visitor.

"Just get her to intercede; we need this," said Michael. I just nodded. The guard cuffed me, and we walked out following him.

She was already in the interview room and seated at the little metal table. The guard secured my cuffed hands to the table in front of me. Evidently I was considered a threat. She looked at me sympathetically. The guard left us alone.

"Jesus!" she said. "Fuck-fuck-fuck! I am so sorry, Jimmy. You didn't deserve this. It's all my fault. And all of those mean things I said about you when I was with him, I will never forgive myself."

I didn't say, that I would never forgive her either. I just nodded. She reached over and held my cuffed hands in hers. "For God's sake, say something, Jimmy, please."

"I'm here talking to you, Claire, because my lawyer tells me I will be going away if I can't get you and the asshole to drop the charges. So, I guess, I'm begging you. Please get him to drop his complaint," I said. She gave me a pained expression.

"Jimmy-I tried already. He's got his back up. He won't drop the charges. He's really pissed. I think that the main reason is that I told him that I would testify for you if he didn't drop them, the charges, I mean. I'm sorry, Jimmy, I can't seem to stop fucking up."

"Are you saying you've dumped him?" I said. She looked down. "No? He's gonna fuck me over even worse than he already has, and you are still riding his cock for him?" I looked at her in disbelief! "This is surreal."

"Jimmy, I keep telling you-the both of you-that I love two men. I mean I love you both unconditionally. You attacked him, Jimmy, with a tire iron! You could've killed him," she said. I laughed at that. "I will testify for you, Jim. I will tell the court that it's all my fault. But I can't bring myself to renounce him as one of my main men when it was you that attacked him."

"I had a tire iron when I went up to the house, but I threw it down when I saw he didn't have anything-you know, like a gun," I said.

"Jimmy, I will do my best for you, but Reed-he is still going to prefer charges. I will try again to get him to drop them. But…"

"Never mind, Claire. I really can't get my head around the fact that you are still fucking the guy even after all of this. Don't help me. I never want to see you again. Him? That's another matter. Him, I do want to see again. And, no matter how long it takes, Claire, I will," I said. "So go back to your scumbag lover and cuckold me some more. Just be sure and tell him what I said.

"Guard," I screamed. The big uniform came in immediately. "Get me away from this whore," I said. She looked at me stunned.

"One more thing, Claire." She leaned forward as if to plead with me.

"Yes," she said. I spit in her face. She stumbled back. The guard frowned and led me out.

My bad luck could not have been worse. I got a real hanging judge. "Five years," he said. I was recuffed with a waist chain attached to ankle shackles and led out. The two cuckolders were there to witness my ruin. She looked sad; he looked-triumphant.

******

Prison is nothing if not an educational institution. What did I learn? I was a fairly big guy, but there were many bigger than I in the can. One was a washed up, but one time, world class boxer, a contender. Maximo Sanchez was a welterweight or had been; he was also my cell mate. I was in good shape, had been since my days at State. I learned everything he had to teach me, and some of the lessons were pretty hard core. He got mad at me one time in our first year together: I spent a week in the prison infirmary. He was all apologetic after the fact, but I'd learned a lesson: control my temper and my mouth.

Maximo taught me other stuff too. One was indeed to keep my fucking mouth shut, and only to speak when speaking would be of clear advantage to me or any project that I had in mind. Maximo was fifty-five, but by no means over the hill.

I should note here, that in spite of our less than amicable parting that last meeting in the jail, Claire did try to see me several times in prison that first year; I wondered about that. At any rate, I refused to see her and finally got her on my no-see list.

Michael had told me straight, as I knew he had. I had lost all of my licenses. But, at the end of three years of misery, I was finally given my outright release; at least I didn't have to fuck with the inconvenience of a parole officer looking over my shoulder. As luck would have it, Maximo was also released at virtually the same time-three days after me actually. I picked him up from the joint in a cab; I had a case of beer waiting for us. I still didn't have a car or job. We were a pair for sure. He was a now fifty-seven year old ex-pug, me a forty-two year old ex-PI. Both on the skids, both on a mission.

My mission was to get even with the asshole: I'd take my time, but sooner or later… His was to open a gym and make a living at the only thing he knew. I had some money-still-saved from my old career; he had the knowledge to impart to students of the sweet science.

One thing about my three years under Maximo's tutelage: my hands got fast and were devastatingly effective. I was also slimmed down a little to a hard body 185. Oh yeah, and I was damned near as tough as I thought I was.

******

I guess it was to be expected. I had returned to my old haunts after all. Like I say, it was inevitable that I'd run into them. I hadn't sought either of them out at that point, but I eventually would have: I was still, as far as I knew, technically married to the one and had a score to settle with the other, but I hadn't been in a hurry. This little eventuality, this little run in, changed things.

She was as beautiful as ever. He was even bigger than ever-had to weigh in at 300 plus for sure. Her cooking was fattening him up, I supposed.

Maximo was trying to say something. "Hey bro, you okay?" he said. "You look funny." I nodded in the direction of the door where Claire and Reed were talking to the waitress.

"Whoa, cowboy, is that them?" said Maximo.

"Yes," I said.

"Jesus, he is a big cat for sure. He's two of you!" said Maximo.

"Yeah, he's put on a few pounds since I last saw him," I said.

It was at that moment that Claire happened to look around the room and spotted us. Her hand went to her mouth. She turned and said something to Reed. His head snapped around, and for the first time in more than three years, our eyes met and locked. Neither of us smiled.

Jennifer grabbed his arm demanding his attention; he returned his gaze to her. I saw him shake his head in the negative, but she kept after him, insisting on something. He threw a disgusted look in our direction and exited the building. Too bad, I was almost hoping he would start something.

Claire turned toward me and just stared. I was sure she was about to follow her lover outside.

"Well, that's interesting," I said turning to Maximo. "I guess they're afraid of us." I laughed at my own inane attempt at humor.

"Amigo, she coming over," he said. My turn to snap my head around.

"Fuck, I have nothing to say to the whore," I said. "But, I'm not leaving with my tail between my legs, no way!"

"Hello, Jimmy," she said, arriving at our table and standing very straight with her hands hanging loosely at her sides.

"What do you want, Claire. I figured that last day in court, when they pronounced me guilty and shackled me, should have been enough for you. Bet you and fuckwad had a monster laugh seeing me humiliated and destroyed like that. Get the fuck away from me," I said. "If you haven't figured it out yet, I hate you-and the asshole."

"Nobody laughed at you that day, Jimmy, especially not me, and I think you know that. Reed was glad you were sent away, but he didn't think it was funny. You can trust me on that one," she said.

"I don't trust you at all," I said. "So get the fuck outta my face."

"Jimmy, please, can I speak with you for a moment-in private?" she glanced at Maximo.

"No. This is someone I do trust. If you've got something to say, you can do it in front of him or not at all," I said. "Oh, and don't sit down; you're not welcome here."

"Nice to meet you, amiga," said Maximo, speaking for the first time. "I've heard so much about you."

Claire winced at that. She could imagine what I'd said about her.

"Very well," she said. "Jimmy, I'm sorry for causing you so much pain. It was never meant to be that way. I just-well-you know. I needed and wanted you both. I have now realized that I was stupid. Where that arrangement was okay with Reed; it wasn't with you. I was sure you two were close enough friends for us, him and me, to convince you; I mean after you found out. Big mistake that one."

"Claire, since I'm sitting here and listening to you, question, why? Why did he do what he did to me? He had to know I was going to fight him, that I had to. I never could get my head around the fact that he wanted to destroy me like he did," I said.

She sighed. "Two reasons. One he said that when he saw you with the tire iron; well, he thought that you actually intended to kill him. Even when you threw it off to the side-and yes he finally told me the truth about that one-he said that he thought you threw it away on the spur of the moment, that you had 'originally' intended to kill him but just changed your mind at the last moment."

"And the second reason?" I said. She paused, clearly not wanting to continue.

"Two, he thought that with you incarcerated that I would divorce you and marry him," she said. I know my face darkened at that moment.

"Is that the plan, Claire? I know you haven't started divorce proceedings yet, but now?" I said.

"I-yes, Jimmy. Now that I see you're out I am going to divorce you. When you spit in my face that day; well, I knew I'd lost you. I knew that there was no hope for us, for me" she said.

"Why not while I was inside?" I said.

"Because you were trapped and unable to speak for yourself while you were in jail. I wouldn't do that to you. At least now you can defend yourself or your name or whatever you think needs to be defended. I won't be asking for anything; I can promise you that," she said. I nodded. "You can get on with your life, and I hope you have a good one."

"You gonna marry him?" I said. The answer seemed obvious, but maybe not.

"No. I'll not marry again, Jimmy. He knows that. It riles him, but one husband in one lifetime is enough," she said. "But, that said, lest you have any doubts or wonder, don't, I have been sleeping with him, and will continue to do so. He does it for me, as you once did too; but, husband material he is not."

"For the record, after you divorce me, would you sleep with me?" I said. Her eyes popped open wide. I'd surprised her. Well, she was, and I was sure still was, a great piece of ass.

"Huh?" she said in a very small voice.

"I wasn't speaking Greek, Claire," I said.

"I-I-don't know. I mean-you'd want to?" she said. "I mean you said you hated me…"

I smiled, "Yeah, I said it-but You always were good in bed, Claire. And, as you can imagine, I'm pretty horny after not getting any for these past few years," I said. I watched her swallow.

"I-I-have to go. Good luck to you, Jimmy. I really mean that," she said.

I watched her almost run out of the building. Maximo and I touched glasses.

"Might really piss off old Reed if I took her, if I did it with her," I said.

"I think that that would be likely," said Maximo. I smiled.

A germ of a plan was coming together. I wondered if she were still living in the old place, or at his. I wondered if Reed was living with her either way. Easy enough to find out, but that had to wait; I wasn't gonna rush things; I had time.

******

She'd said it straight, I was served with divorce papers at the apartment five days after our little talk. I'd had to wonder how she knew where to send the process server. She'd evidently found out where I was staying with Maximo-neither of us had much money left after funding the gym set up that was even now underway; we figured to open in a couple of weeks. Our domicile was definitely on the wrong side of the tracks, but near the gym, in order to conserve our now meager funds. I'd had a little bit of money left, but it wouldn't be lasting long. Maximo for his part had nothing, but I owed him for training me-and continuing to do so. I might be a forty something, but I was a one very-fast-with-the-hands forty something.

I signed the divorce papers and within six months it was over. I was single, she was single, and good 'ole Reed was about to get a surprise if I could work it.

******

The gym-really a converted basement with an external entryway had a ring and the usual bags and stuff. Maximo expected a number of hopefuls to be working out regularly with us. I don't know where he got his information, but he was confident that he had it right.

Again, the whole shebang had taken almost every dollar I had saved in my years of work as a PI to set up and get operating. The good news was that we didn't owe anything. The place was paid for except for the usual utilities and taxes and such. Fortunately the utilities, so far, were low; we'd be okay if we were careful, and we were.

Maximo was in charge of the day to day operations. I had other things I had to attend to.

******

The more things change the more they remain the same. I'd learned that Claire was still working at the museum. It was a no brainer to sit outside one day and wait for her to get off work and follow her. I could have just asked her where she lived when I'd seen her that night in the bar, but I was afraid she would blow me off: worried about what I might be starting with Reed.

So here I was watching the back entrance as she exited at 5:30. I saw her exit and head for a new Chevy. Red, she did like bright colors; the car was red.

It was some twenty minutes later that she pulled up in front of a new tract house. Both my old place and Reed's had new owners; I'd checked that out after seeing her that night in the bar. I'd waited these months to track them down mainly because I wanted the divorce to be finalized in case I ended up back in the joint-a distinct possibility given my miserable luck.

******

The pillbox was my new favorite hangout; it was close to the gym. Great place to meet girls, I'd noticed, and, to get serious psychological help from the resident bartender, Cal Billingsley. The latter actually claimed to have a master's degree in Psychology.

Anyway, like I said, it was a place to meet the ladies. And, I'd met a good one: Maribel Vincent. She was very tall, very skinny, raven haired, very funny, probably intelligent (the jury was still out on that one), and fairly good looking. All right, she wasn't exactly a beauty, and she was flat chested; but she was interesting; and above all, she seemed to like-well-me! I counted that a plus.

"You come here a lot?" I said. She eye'd me appraisingly.

"Some. Less so lately. Been busy," she said.

"Busy? Well, yeah, if it comes to that, me too," I said. "My name's Jim."

"Maribel," she said. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise, I'm sure," I said, with way too much flourish. She laughed. "Yeah, anyway, I've been real busy figurin' out whether my ex-wife and I are gonna ever be able to stand each other again."

"Really, me too," she said, "I mean not my wife, but my husband. He's a cheater. A 'big' time cheater. But-if she's ex, why would you care if you can stand her or not," said Maribel.

"Hah! Your husband might have been a cheater, but not as big a cheater as my ex," I said, with some emphasis. "My fucking whore of a soulmate is a 'goddamn whore'! And, why would I care; well, it's complicated."

"Well, at least we have a damn good reason to get plastered together," she said.

"I can relate," I said. "I sure as damn stinkin' hell can relate." We tilted glasses and sipped a silent toast to our mutual misery.

We sat together, not saying much, just sipping and thinkin'. What I was thinkin' was that this was a girl who might maybe be able to make me forget my problems, at least for a little while.

******

My plan for Reed was to try to lure him into a situation where I could fight him and have an airtight "get out of jail free card" after the fact; and, a get "into" jail free card for him. But, I had every intention of nailing my ex first, and to rub his traitorous nose in it.

I felt out of place in the museum. I'd been to it a number of times over the years-well, in former times. But, now, well, I felt out of place. I saw her handing out brochures to a couple of Japanese tourists. She looked happy. She turned.

"Hello, Claire," I said. "I wondered if you were still working here. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd check it out."

"Jimmy, I'm surprised. How are you?" she said. Her look changed. "Jimmy? Why are you here?" Her tone was-suspicious.

"Like I said, I wondered if you still worked here. And-if so-I wondered if you would have lunch with me," I said. "You know for old time's sake."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Since I saw you that night in the bar, well, I've been thinking about you. It's been so long for me. Anyway, I just wanted to see you," I said.

"But, Jimmy, you spit on me. Do you remember that!" she said with a little bit of ire seeping through.

"Yeah, I know. But, that was years ago and the conditions weren't exactly the best, if you'll recall; I was in chains," I said. "I was punished for what I did, Claire. I served my time behind bars and took my medicine. Hey, it's only lunch. Whaddya say?" I could see she was thinking.

"Okay, Jimmy, I guess lunch wouldn't be too much to ask," she said. "For old time's sake." I nodded.

******

The food at Cairo's Beanery was good-the prices were also within my rage. The conversation was a little strained.

"Okay, Jimmy, why am I here?" said Claire. I smirked, I couldn't help it.

"Because you're pretty still. Because over the years I've done some thinking. Because I'm about as horny and desperate as a man can get," I said. She looked at me like I was some kind of alien.

"Jimmy-I…"

"Don't get you panties all in a wad, Claire, I know you don't want me," I said. I was playing the guilt card and hoping I wasn't blowing my chances. Okay, it was a gamble.

She frowned. "Jimmy, it isn't at all that I don't want you. Frankly, the idea of going to bed with you is appealing. But-well, I don't want to stir up a can of worms. You know very well how Reed will react if I let you have me. He isn't as willing to share as he used to be, and he wasn't happy that I wouldn't marry him after I divorced you," she said.

"It's strange, I know. I mean I was so willing to share and he was so willing to share, now we're freakin' monogamous. I can't explain it. I don't know if it can be explained, but anyway, I don't want him to find out. Please believe me; I wish things had turned out differently."

"Hey, the only way he'll know is if you tell him," I lied. "I hate the asshole, but I won't be doing you for revenge or any of that. Hell, Claire, if it comes to that, we were husband and wife; we were supposed to fuck. And you were doing him all the while, and you weren't supposed to be doing him," I was smiling my most engaging smile.

"I don't-oh what the hell. I guess I owe it to you to let you get your rocks off," she said. She smiled at me now. "Are you really as horny as you say?"

"Oh, yeah!" I said. I wasn't lying about that.

The ride to my place was quiet. I knew she was nervous, and hell, I was too. It'd been a long time. Apart from some flirting and a little touchy-feely at the Pillbox, I hadn't had any sex since getting out months before. Yeah, I know: why not. The reason was two-fold. One I was afraid of going back inside for messing with prosties. The other was the fact that I was just too damn rusty to get a girl-one that I wanted-anyway. I wasn't interested in just some mindless screwing either. I wanted someone to hold onto, and the ones I finally got up the nerve to ask out were not interested or married or busy-go figure. So, yeah, I was horny.

I'd arranged with Maximo for him not to be the apartment. He smirked when I told him that I needed the place empty for the night, but I think he was glad I was finally gonna get laid. She seemed to settle down once we were inside.

"Take it easy on me, okay stud? You and I-well-we have a history, and if we're going to do this, you've gotta take it easy, go slow. You know," she said. I nodded and tried to look composed; I have no idea how successful I was.

I went to her, and pulled her, gently, to me. So far so good. She let me kiss her. God how good she tasted. I held that first kiss for a full minute.

"Wow, you are a bit on the horny side, aren't you," she said.

My voice was husky when I said, "Yeah, you could say that. You're my first, well, since…"

"Are you serious, Jimmy? You mean going on four years?" she was actually concerned.

"Yes." She just stared at me. She came to me and touched my arm; it was electric. I pulled her to me and almost hurt her, I held her so tight. "Thank you for this," I said, finally.

She pushed me back and told me to sit. I did as she commanded. She slowly undressed in front of me. God it was erotic! Her mound was bald. Her slit was going to be impossible to not worship.

I slipped from the bed to my knees and kissed her there. She smelled like a woman smells, and it intoxicated me. I turned her gently around. She looked back at me quizzically. I kiss her ass cheeks. I spread them and made oral love to her anus. She leaned forward with her hands on her knees and spread her legs a little to allow me better access. I literally tried to suck her anus and any of its contents into my mouth. I could hear her muffled giggles. She could laugh at me all she wanted. I needed this; I needed it bad.

I stood and led her to the bed. I would take missionary the first time. I wanted to see her eyes when I entered her. She grimaced as I pushed, but settled down as I began a rhythmic push and pull. I wanted this to last. I'd been jerking off so much in recent times that I figured I could, and, I did.

Her face took on a strange aspect-stressed maybe-I knew she was cumming. Her orgasm seemed to last for a full minute before she relaxed and I blew into her. I leaned in to kiss her.

"I love you," she said. "I just wish…"

"I know, but, well, I just don't know, Claire; I just don't know," I said.

My resolve to exact revenge on the both of them was being seriously challenged. I still loved her. I loved her so much. For those out there who have never been in a love like mine-well-you just have no idea. That love alone might almost have been enough to change my mind, resolve. It would have been if the image of Reed laughing at me all of those years weren't so strong. He had to go down. I would try to spare her, but he had to go down.

******

Maximo had done a good job. He'd contacted a number of friends, and they had contacted more friends. Pretty soon, Maximo's House, the name of our gym, became kind of a hangout for wanna be fighters and a few pretty good fighters, and a few pretty good manager types. This last was good because it was the managers that made the neophyte fighters into the real McCoy. Paul Zorn was one such manager.

Paul was not looking for me, nor was he looking for Maximo exactly. He was looking for the kid, Randy Ellison. Randy was a middleweight. At five-nine and 165, he had the hand speed of a lightweight and the firepower of a lightheavy. He could be going places.

I was standing back against the wall watching Randy flash punches into the mitts that a trainer held out in front of him for the kid to hit.

"Almost too fast to see, those hands," said Paul, coming up behind me.

"You'd know," I said. "But, yeah, he is fast."

We watched for a few more minutes. Paul turned to go. "Maximo says you guys might be coming down to La Jolla to see the kid's first real fight," said Paul.

"Maximo, not me," I said. "I'm tied up."

He shrugged. "Your loss," said Paul.

"Yeah, I know, but I really am tied up. I gotta do some stuff that can't wait," I said.

I watched as the man went out. Maximo magically appeared at my side as soon as I moved away from the wall with thoughts about going out myself.

"Zorn, talk to you," he said.

"Yeah, uh, not much. Just mentioned the fight in La Jolla," I said.

"Yeah, if it goes good, he's gonna put the kid under contract. It'll be a break for him, for the kid," he said.

"'Reckon so," I said. "But, I ain't goin'. Got a big date, and she comes first. None of you guys are pretty enough to take her place-love you though I do."

"I can dig it," he said, smiling. "I honest-to-god can."

******

Actually, I had two big dates. A nooner with Claire and drinks afterward with Maribel.

Maribel was an enigma for me. I was still madly in love with Claire, that much I knew, but Maribel had a-presence. She puzzled me. She liked me. As far as I knew was dating no one but me. But, she never pressured me, or made me feel like I was needed or would be missed; but, that said, I had a feeling that something was there. Weird.

I met Claire at a nearby motel. She'd checked us in before I arrived; that was kind of s first for me: the woman signing us in at a motel.

She came to me. Her arms slipped around me, and the kiss was no less than loving. This time, this date, was different, at least on my end; I was recording it all. I wasn't sure I would have the brass juevos to actually fuck her over with her lover as I planned, but I was going through with the first part of the plan regardless: gathering the stuff that I needed to sock it to Reed. Worst case, Claire would be collateral damage, but I would be there to pick up the pieces if she'd let me, if not, well, not, I guess.

She tore off my clothes and then hers. "Take me from behind lover. I need it," she said. She bent herself over and placed her hands on the seat of a chair. Spreading her legs wide, she looked back at me. "Well," she said. I smiled and moved into assault her vagina with everything I had. I was able to fuck her for five minutes before exploding inside of her. She hadn't come, so I threw her on the bed and began servicing her orally. It was another five minutes before she began bucking and jabbering unintelligibly. She stiffened and shuddered as she came. She sank back into the mattress and closed her eyes. "Fuck you're good," she said. "I'd almost forgotten how good you could be, especially with your mouth."

A bit later, after a short nap, she was dressing. "Jimmy, this has to be the last. I think Reed suspects something. He doesn't know what, but he is acting funny. "I'm sorry, Jimmy." I just looked at her, my face blank of expression, I was sure. I just nodded.

"Thanks for letting me get my rocks off. I needed it," I said. She just looked at me, turned and left. Her dumping me for the second time made up my mind for me: collateral damage.

******

The next evening I was seated at a table at the Pill Box. Paul showed up with Randy. They were all smiles.

"You two dating each other," I said. Smiling at their obvious jubilation and platonic love for each other.

"He beat the guy, Jimmy. He took out the number four ranked contender-in the first round. The referee had to stop it; it was that one-sided," said Paul.

"Well congratulations," I said, inclining my nod toward Randy.

"Thanks, Mr. Lytle. I have you and Mr. Sanchez to thank for helping me and training me." Paul was nodding and smiling.

"I'm hoping to have Maximo stay on with him and keep training him," said Paul, "the guy knows his stuff."

"He does that," I said. "And speaking of the guy who knows his stuff, here he comes with the belle of the ball."

Maribel came right for me and planted a monster kiss on me. "You look gorgeous, girl," I said, immediately after regaining my breath.

"Hmm, nice to hear. You can tell me again later," she said, "maybe go into more detail."

"Huh?" I said. Maximo was laughing. "What's so funny?"

"Not funny, but maybe fun," he said.

"Max, what's going on," I was getting a little frustrated.

"Maribel's divorce from her husband was final today," said Maximo.

"What? Huh? Maribel, I thought you said you were already divorced," I said.

"No, I said my husband was a cheater, but at the time I met you we were still married. Not sleeping in the same room or dealing with each other much, but still technically married. But no more," she said.

"Oh boy, that explains a lot," I said.

"I couldn't-didn't-feel right taking advantage of you, Jimmy. That's why I've been a little standoffish until now. I mean if it matters to you," she said.

I was stunned. "Uh-yeah-it matters. We'll talk," I said, finally getting my head out of my ass.

The celebration over Randy's big fight and Maribel's freedom went on for an hour before the entertainment arrived. I had just finished dancing with Maribel when somewhere between 1,000 and 1,200 pounds of proud-ass beef crossed the threshold of the Pill Box. They were led by Reed; there were four of them in all. Reed did not look happy.

I pushed my chair back from the table. The others, except for Maximo, didn't know who the visitors were, but they were more than aware that they weren't no welcome wagon.

"Well hello convict," said Reed.

"Convicts," I said. "Maximo here was my cell mate for the duration. You know for the time I spent behind bars mainly because of you."

"Two losers," he said. "You Deserve each other." I high-fived Maximo.

"You want to take him yourself, Reed, or can I have the pleasure," said the guy standing immediately to his left. The guy looked like the son of Kong.

"No, Darrel, I've got this one. You guys can just keep the rest of this riff-raff here in line until I finish with him. Oughta take maybe thirty seconds," said Reed.

I stood sighed and waited. Reed smiled. Randy stood, as did Maximo. Paul just lit a cigarette, took his drink, and pushed his chair back out of the way; he motioned Maribel to join him. She did.

Reed laughed. He sent hard stares to Maximo and Randy. "You two best move back out of the way like the old man and the girl there," said Reed.

"Reed, which one do I get," said son of Kong.

"You take the other convict if he is dumb enough to mess in this. You two guys keep the young guy from interfering; don't hurt him too much; he's clearly just a boy," said Reed. Randy's faced darkened; the two linemen types didn't seem to notice.

Reed stepped toward me. His hands had still not come up in a threatening position.

"I didn't much like the tape you sent me. Oh, and it made Claire cry if it means anything to you," he said.

"It doesn't, mean anything to me that is," I said. His roundhouse was easily dodged. He sort of skidded past me, turned back to me snarling, and was greeted with a dozen jabs and a right hook. He staggered back, still not intimidated.

"Seems like you learned a couple of things in prison, convict," he said. I stepped into him and delivered a uppercut that bent him half backwards. I followed it with a hook to the ribs and followed that with another hook to the temple. He attempted to throw a cross at me, but it was just so much slow the mail. I'd stung him; now he was concerned.

The few patrons in the place were standing around mesmerized. The barkeep knew us and just kept wiping down the counter. It was surreal. Why do bartenders always occupy themselves that way, I wondered.

Kong went at Maximo. Maximo won-forty to nil. The big ape dropped like a sack of wet cement. The other two buffoons tried on Randy, but they were getting in each other's way and went down one at a time even faster than did Maximo's dance partner.

"I'd noted the clock on the wall when Reed had bragged about ending things in less than thirty seconds. The whole show lasted about a minute and a half.

The fight over, Maribel came up to me. "You okay, big guy," said Maribel.

"Yeah, fine," I said. "As a matter of fact, very fine." I kissed her. She kissed me back. Things were looking good.

The barkeep finally had to call the EMT guys, and of course the cops joined them. There were enough witnesses to assure them that blame for the little set-to would all be on the heads of Reed and his fellow Neanderthals.

I heard that Reed spent the next several days in the hospital. Seems he was going to need some plastic surgery to mend the broken bones in his face. I heard too that Claire visited him every day. I did see Claire that following week. She came up to me, started crying, turned and left without saying a word. I guess all that happened had left her speechless.

My love for her died that day at the motel when she'd told me she wouldn't be seeing me again. Now, Reed could have her. He would, I was sure. He would also have the memory of how easily he'd been taken down; that was my gift to me.

******

I wasn't a PI anymore. The assholes had seen to that. But, I had a plethora of skills that weren't exactly found to be growing on trees. Hence, I had plenty of word of mouth requests to help so and so to gather-how shall I say it-data on this or that person, place or thing. I was good at gathering data.

I was part owner in a business, Maximo's House, and my reportable income was right at sixty-K. I was almost able to double that by what I was making on the side; which I shared 60-40 with Maximo. The same deal he had made me per the gym. We had a good relationship. If he weren't so damn ugly, I'd have married him instead of Maribel. Yes, that's right we did marry, and she turned out to be one Heckuva babe-in all respects. Still…

Life is full of little surprises. It was four years after the last time I'd seen her speechless at the Pillbox that I was to interact with her again-indirectly.

Claire was still beautiful, a little thinner, but still quite a woman. God, would I ever really be over her!

"Jimmy, you got some time this week?" said Malcom Horning. Malcom was a PI, and an old friend from long bygone days. I was doing some work for him on occasion, and this was one of those occasions.

"Yeah, of course," I said. "What you need?"

"A woman. Wants the goods on a cheating husband. She wants to get it fast, nail his ass to a wooden cross, and preferably one with plenty of slivers in it," he said.

"No problem," I said. "Got a name, a place to start?"

"Yeah the guy's name is Reed Billingsly. The woman is Claire Billingsly. Here's the fact sheet on him and her. See what you can get," he said. I stood there stunned.

So she had married him. Interesting. I guess, she finally didn't love anybody anymore: first it was two, then it was one, and now it was none; Helluva thing. She dumped me and now she was dumping him. Well, what goes around does indeed seem to come around, sooner or later.

Mal looked at me. He could see something was going on. "You okay?" he said.

"Yeah. Well kinda. I know them. Not nice people," I said.

"She seemed okay, but who knows. Him, I haven't a clue. But I need some clues, so anyway, see what you can do. The usual rates apply," he said. I nodded. Life can indeed be strange.

I was standing no more than thirty feet from them when they, Reed and his little chickee, met in the bar. She smiled, he smiled, they kissed, they left, I followed them. I got the audio no problem, but the pics were only of some grabass and mess of passionate kisses; it's all they did outside of the motel room they'd come out of. It was enough.

Six months later I was waiting outside the courtroom when the pair emerged. He'd been financially raped by Claire, that partly due to the evidence I'd collected; I felt good about that. She saw me.

"Jimmy! What are you doing here," said Claire.

"Just hanging around to see the end of the drama," I said. "I did time because of the two of you. I lost my licenses, my life, and most of my dreams because of the two of you, and for what. Here you are, the two of you, the cheaters and the liars, no longer friends. I'm enjoying the hell of it."

"Jimmy, do you hate me so much? I never stopped loving you, you know. Even when I divorced you, I did it for you, not for me," she said.

"You did it to free yourself of guilt for what you'd done to me. I spent three years in prison, Claire-prison! Not a fun place. Thanks a helluva lot for all you've done for me!" I said. I was awash in bitterness that was finally beginning to drain off. Just as I'd finished saying my piece, Reed emerged with his chickee hanging on his arm. He sneered at Claire, and then he saw me.

"You! What are you doing here," he said.

"Laughing at the two of you," I said. He took a step in my direction, thought better of it, turned and left. Just before turning down the adjacent corridor he stopped.

"Fuck you, Jimmy. Your day will come," he said. Then he disappeared around the corner with his new best girlfriend. We'd see each other again. We all would, but now I was in the driver's seat and it felt good.

******

Claire has stayed single and still works for the museum. Reed tried to run out on his alimony obligations, but I gleefully tracked him down-pro bono-turned him in, and he spent a few months behind bars. He paid up, and Claire thanked Malcom profusely for catching the bastard. Of course she never knew I'd been the one to track him down, nor did he.

Two years later, his marriage to his new wife, yeah the chickee, crashed and burned, and he was again raped in the divorce. Old Reed just couldn't buy a break.

Maribel and I were sitting in the Pillbox lazily enjoying a nothing conversation. Maximo was due to join us.

"There he is," I said, nodding toward the door.

"Happy anniversary to the two of you," he said coming up and plopping down in a chair.

"Thank you," said Maribel. "It is a good day." Something was up. It was our anniversary, and she should have been happy, right enough. I was happy. But there was something."

"What's going on," I said. She burst out laughing.

"What!" I said, spreading my hands in an 'I surrender' gesture.

"I was kinda thinking that Maximo is a nice name for a boy, dontcha think, husband mine," she said. It didn't register.

"Yeah, I guess. It's okay… oh shit! You-you're…"

She nodded vigorously. I went to her and kissed her so long I was in danger of grooving her lips. "I love you," I said.

-----------------------------

   Series:Jimmy and Mabel
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Wife feels the need to have a lover, but wants to keep her husband too.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/58950/jimmy-and-mabel
Published:2008-12-28
I'm Jim Layton. My wife of seventeen years is Mabel Layton, nee Clay. We were married young and in hurry. We'd talked about waiting, but when my Ranger unit, an element of the 82nd. airborne, was called up to go to Iraq in '91; we took the plunge.

She was twenty at the time, and I was twenty-five. My very diminutive Mable is tawny-haired and some would say a bit on the plain side. She's a tad overweight too, but in her case I think it's sexy. Her best feature bar none is her dazzling personality; I have adored her since the day we met at a Cal Tech exhibition all those years ago.

I guess I would describe myself as slender, not exactly prepossessing in the face, and at five-nine and never over one-sixty-five, not especially impressive physically. But, what is, is, I guess.

As a combat engineer for the Army, with a degree from Cal Tech, Capt. James C. Layton, me; was a natural to fill the position at Harding Engineering Inc. upon my return from the war zone. Harding is a company with serious government contacts, It was a position, too, I had long hoped to get upon my discharge. I was not disappointed in my hopes and hired on as soon as I mustered out in late '92.

A few years later Mabel and I began the next campaign together: that of engineering a family. Clara, now twelve, was our first success in that regard; she was followed two years later by Johnny, now ten.

As I said, I adore my woman. She was and is sexy, she was and is fun, and she is mine, at least for now. Sex from the beginning has been virtually non-stop and varietal. Well it was until very recently.

It all seemed kinda sudden to me: the onset of headache disease on the part of my wife. More, lately it has seemed, that every time I make a move to make love to her, she's had an excuse: headaches, her period, fatigue from her long (four hour) day at the used car dealership-more about that shortly-it's always some damn thing. It's been almost a month now since the last time I was allowed to sock it to her, and when I did, and I'd had to beg, she just laid there like a lump enduring it. I knew something was wrong, but the obvious had not even entered my mind at that point. Okay, I'm a dumb fuck when it comes to her, at least I was.

I had been thinking about things all day, and I now realized, in hindsight, our troubles, mine at any rate, had begun two months ago, when Mabel laid it on me that she was going to get a job during the day while the kids were in school. I was not thrilled by the idea, but I had no good reason to deny her other than my personal preference for a wife to be a homebody.

She said she was bored. I said get a hobby. She said she was, one that paid. She ended up as a girl Friday at Landmark Auto: a used car dealership in town. The pay was okay and the work not especially taxing. For a while things seemed to be fine; except of course that her sex drive had gone from frantic to practically zero.

Today, I'd decided to make her sit down and talk it out. Something had to give, and her job was very high on the list of options. That, since I now recognized that her starting work was the beginning of the whole mess.

******

I had taken the half day off to talk with her. I wanted to do it before the kids were due to be picked up at 3:30. I pulled into the drive and noticed that the trash had been picked up, so I decided to take the empty can to the back, save myself having to do it later. I ducked into the garage and wiped my dirty hands on the rag hangin' by the door. The sight that greeted me was stunning.

Parked in my space in the closed garage was a vintage red Corvette. Not the kind of car often seen anywhere, but virtually never on our street. I had a bad feeling.

The door to the kitchen from the garage was ajar. I went through it. The noise emanating from the front room killed my heart. "Fuck me harder, damn it, harder! I need it. I need it now!" I heard her say. The 'her' was my wife. For some seconds, I don't know how many, I stood there in the kitchen, my mind a chaos of a dozen swirling emotions. I gathered myself.

I went into the front room. She was leaning forward with her hands on the easy chair, my chair. She was naked and her legs were splayed wide. He was behind her pile driving his cock deep inside of her. He was pretty impressive; I had to give him that. She was grunting savagely as he banged her. I stood there watching the woman, who I had never before doubted, betraying me. I knew the man, met him. He was her boss at the dealership, Dutch Miller. He was married with kids too.

Well, what they were doing explained the decline in my sex life.

Their backs were to me, and they hadn't heard me, not yet. "Mable?" I managed. God I must have sounded like the worst kind of wimp.

The man's head whipped around. To say he was startled was a total understatement, at first. But, then he just smiled. "Sorry man. I couldn't resist this nice little wifey of yours. He didn't appear worried. Well why would he have; he was at least six-six and maybe two-eighty, that he was wrong in his self-confidence notwithstanding.

I stared at him more stunned than anything else. Anger would soon replace those initial feelings. But, for the moment; I was completely at a loss.

Mabel, by now, had stood and turned to face me. She grabbed for the towel she'd evidently brought into the living room from the bathroom. She covered herself. She too got over her initial surprise quickly and offered me the same condescending smile that her lover had.

"Jimmy, you're home early. Well, it was going to happen sooner or later," she said.

"Mabel? What-what-are you doing? Is this the end of us? I know this guy. He's married. He has kids. We have kids. I don't… " I was more or less making sense, but I was not standing up for my rights, or for my family's rights. But, in my defense, I was in a state of shock. It was the worst moment of my life.

"The end of us? No, Jim, in fact it's a good thing. I love you Jim. But frankly, and I don't mean this to hurt you; you don't do it for me in bed anymore. You and I need to talk. But I promise you; I'll make this right by you. You'll just have to give me a chance to make you understand, that's all.

"Dutch, you need to go. Jimmy and I have a lot to discuss," she said.

"Yeah, I guess that's so," he said. He gathered his stuff together pulled on his pants and shirt and left by the kitchen door into the garage where he still had his car to retrieve. I heard the garage door opener engage and the sound of the powerful engine gun as he pulled out into the street and was gone.

"Pour yourself a drink, Jimmy. I'll be down in a few minutes," she said. Her giving me orders was new. She'd never talked to me like that before. I was feeling insulted-no-hurt.

She joined me in maybe five minutes. She started laying it on me as soon as she'd taken her seat. I had already downed a shot of vodka. I poured myself another one.

"Jim, to answer your earlier question again, no this doesn't have to be the end of us unless you want it to be. But, I need to tell you, I intend to keep on having my time with Dutch. If you want to stay married, I will be thrilled to agree. But, if you want a divorce; then, that'll be okay too," she said.

"Mabel this isn't right… " I started to say.

"Jim, deal with it or leave; it's that simple. If you want a divorce, I'll take the house, half of the savings, reasonable alimony and child support, and you can have your freedom. I'm sorry you had to see that today. You didn't deserve that. I should never have allowed him in the house to fuck me, my bad.

"But, in a way it's good because now I won't have to be sneaking around anymore," she said.

I looked at her. Who was this woman? I sure didn't know who it was. I sat there speechless for a long time at least it seemed like a long time. My marriage was deader than the proverbial doornail; I knew it if she didn't.

"Jim? Are you all right? I honestly do feel bad that you saw that. I didn't want to hurt you. You're good man just not what I need in some areas.

"Dutch fills that missing something that need. He's worthless every other way," she said, "you are twice the man he is other than when it comes to sex. And-and-you and I can still do it sometimes. I don't intend to cut you off completely. But-well-it won't be as often as maybe you might want I'm afraid."

"What? Why-why are you… " I said. Jesus, I was being wimpy. I just couldn't seem to get a hold of myself. I would at some point; I had to, but for the moment she was in the driver's seat, and I was getting my ass kicked.

"Jim, if you need to find a woman, you know, to take the edge off; like on the side, be my guest. I can't very well object to you doing what I'm doing can I?" she said. It was clear she was feeling proud of herself for being so magnanimous with me.

"But I love you, not somebody else. You love me-don't you?" I said.

"Of course I do, Jim. I will always love you. It's just, the sex with you-well-it's just not like it used to be, darling. Get your head around that, and you'll see; we can get by this little mistake of mine, I mean this thing today," she said. "We can deal with this. It's just a sex thing, nothing more."

We talked for some time. She actually got up and kissed me at one point. She brushed away my tears with her hand. "I promise not to flaunt it in front of you again, Jim. You deserve that much consideration at the least. Are we okay?" she said.

"I-I-I have to go get the kids." The clock on the wall read 3:15. I needed to get out of there; a bad feeling I hadn't had since the war was coming over me. "I'll take them to get pizza. I'll bring pizza home. I need to… " I didn't finish saying whatever I was going to say. I just rose and left. She was smiling benignly. My stomach was settling. A new emotion was finding its way into my mind and heart-anger.

******

The kids ran to me. Clara was in her last year of grade school. Johnny would have one more to go. They were the perfect age; they were for me at any rate. I couldn't lose them. The upshot of that was that I would have to put up with my new status as Mabel's cuckold, at least for now, in order not to lose them; she'd made that clear. She'd take the kids and most of our material possessions if I made any waves.

I had to think to plan. The army had taught me how to plan surprise assaults. It's how I had nailed those fucks in the desert west of the Euphrates. It would be time to plan soon; I just didn't have it in me today. All I had today was the unholy tastes of bile and betrayal.

I'd never talked much about my time in the Middle East. Not event to Mabel. And, in point of fact, she'd hardly ever mentioned it to me or questioned me. It's how I'd wanted it. Too many good men wouldn't be coming home from those wars, thanks be to the politicians who cared more about oil than human life. Talking about the war was something all of us brothers in arms just knew not to do. Mabel didn't even know about my Silver Star. She never would now, not from my mouth.

"Daddy," said Clara with sauce all over her chin. "I love you," she said.

"Me too, Dad," said Johnny.

"Daddy, why is mommy so bored all of the time? I mean with us," said Clara. "Is she having sex with that other man?"

I stopped with my ice tea halfway to my lips. "Bored? Sex?"

"Yes, dad, she doesn't come to anything at school anymore. She's too busy since she started working at the car place, daddy," said Johnny. "That guy is at our house sometimes when mom picks us up and we get home. He really tries to make us like him. But I don't like him no matter what!"

"But, he never stays long after we get there," said Clara. "They talk a little, and then he leaves. I think they have sex dad."

"Yeah, dad, and she's always late picking us up too," said Johnny.

I had been getting madder and madder inside, but now I was getting just plain mad! Her little games with buttfuck were affecting not only me, but our children. If they had figured out in their little pre-pubescent minds what was going on, it had to be pretty blatant. The only dummy who didn't seem to be in on the joke was me! Well, I was now.

"I'll talk to her about it, kids. But, I'm sure she's not bored with you. And, no, your mom and I are married. She isn't doing the bad thing with him; I'm sure of that," I said. I hazarded a weak smile. Clara looked at me funny-can't fool a kid.

I delivered half a pizza to the house and Mabel smiled her thanks. "I should've gone with you," she said. But, I could tell her words were just formula pap without substance. She'd obviously showered and she looked good. Well, she always looked good to me. That would never change.

******

During the next days, I went to work. I made a living. I came home, and dinner was usually ready. I had not dared to ask her about her picking up the kids late all of the time or mention their suspicions. One, I was afraid she'd become enraged and go off on me; and two, for the life of me, I was still chicken to deal with the reality that I was in fact dealing with anyway. Okay, I admit it, my tears were almost constant at night now. She'd caught me last night; it was humiliating.

"Jim? Are you crying? Jim?" she said. She had a disgusted look on her face.

"No-I-just have something in my eye. I'm fine," I said. I was so transparently lying that it wasn't even funny. She sat down, set her lips and spoke.

"Jim, for chryssakes be a man! You're acting like a wimpy little boy. For goodnessakes." She threw up her hands in mock despair. "Look, I know I hurt you. But, it's nothing for you to worry about, I mean my having sex with Dutch. He's no threat to you, not in any meaningful way. Now, please act like a man, please. All of this whining and crying has got to stop. Okay?" Her last words were delivered in an almost kindly tone, like she was soothing a child's hurt feelings. I have to admit it; I was only a few nano-syllables shy of actually killing her right then and there. She had no idea; I walked out to protect myself more than her.

It was the next morning, Saturday, I was outside working on my car. I had to do something to keep from going insane. The conversation the night before had killed all hope whatsoever of my ever forgiving her and letting her off the hook. She'd be lucky if she didn't actually end up in a whorehouse in Thailand before I was through, at least that's the way I was thinking at that moment. And, as for buttfuck, he was going to get special treatment: maybe a sex change. My mind was rambling, I knew, and filling with outlandish images of revenge.

Cheating on me was one thing, but they were going far beyond the pale in the doing of it. Her using the kids to blackmail me was the only thing keeping her in the saddle. I had to unhorse the bitch, and that sooner rather than later.

Done messin' with the radiator hose, I decided to head out toward town; I needed some stuff. I was able to find what I needed in no time. I was an engineer after all. Walt Reiser had been with me in the 82nd. He owned an electronics shop in town.

"Shit man, bummer. I can't believe she'd do that to you. Anyway, this stuff should get you some of what you need. "Jim," he said, and he paused, "you know, you, we got friends. Friends who don't make mistakes and handle bullshit like this, just say the word. You'll have full deniability."

"No, Walt, I ain't goin' that route. I thought about it. But, no," I said.

"You still sleeping with her?" he said.

"Yeah, so far. I haven't had the balls to move out, I mean even out of the room. I'm doing my best not to make waves. But, there's no sex. Not even much kissing. Every once in a while she gives me a peck on the cheek if I do something she thinks is good. It makes my skin crawl. But, I don't want her to end up with anything, so I put up with it, for now. And, she certainly must not ever end up with the children, not that, not ever that." I said. Walt nodded.

"What about him?" he said.

"Buttfuck? I haven't figured out what I can do to him yet, but he is definitely never far from my mind," I said.

"How about telling his wife?" said Walt. "You say he's married with kids too."

"Yeah, that would probably handle him, at least partly, but I would still lose in having to battle Mabel. I want them both to go down-hard," I said.

I got home about two hours later. The stuff I bought was still in the car. She had to be gone for me to install it. A piece of cake, maybe an hour's work. I wasn't sure what good any of it would do, though. Adultery was reprehensible, but not legally reprehensible. The lawyers and their law making had seen to that. It was almost like they wanted to protect the guilty. Lawyers and politicians had to be the most contemptible cadre of human beings there was.

I knew could prove the hell out of it, the adultery that is, but it probably wouldn't mean shit in the final analysis. I had to hope that my sweet little whore of a wife would slip up big time-somehow.

I came into the service porch and headed for the frig in the kitchen and pulled me out a beer. I needed something a lot stronger, but for the time being I wasn't going to be doin' too much drinkin'; I needed my wits about me to make war. It was the 82nd against a whore and her pimply-assed high school buttfuck; I almost smiled at the thought. The 82nd were the most highly trained warriors in the world. Hell, how could I lose. And if it got physical? Buttfuck was in for a major surprise. Yeah, how could I lose? Okay, my heart was already in the tank, but whatever was left was going to be real hard for the two of them to deal with.

As I was taking my first sip she came in. "Oh, I didn't hear you come in," she said. I didn't say anything. I just shrugged. "Jim, we aren't going to have another scene like last night are we?" she said, not unkindly.

I shrugged again. "I guess not," I said. "I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Jim! Shake it off. Okay. You're supposed to be some kind of soldier or something aren't you? What about all of those guys that got killed and stuff. I bet they weren't as wimpy as you're acting when they were dyin'," she said. Now, she had gone too far.

She saw the steel in my eyes as I set my beer down; she noticeably quailed. I didn't realize it, but I had taken a step toward her, a menacing step. Eleven stinkies had met Allah and had gotten their shot at the promised seventy-two virgins; and that, at my very singular hands in that desert that day. My squad had gotten the two nurses back, and damned near been court marshaled for the doing of it against orders. But, general Gilchrist had gotten involved, and me and my four brothers had gotten Silver Stars instead.

"Mabel, no matter what you ever do to me, now or in the future; never, never, never again mention my brothers. If you do, you won't… " I was talking so low and slow that she realized that she had overreached herself.

"Okay, okay, sheesh, touchy," she said, interrupting me. I was glad she did. I was about to tell her that I would kill her. That would not have been good. I could tell she got the message though. She actually shivered.

"I have to go," she said. "Sheila and I are going shopping. I'll be home kind a late. You got the kids." I nodded.

This was my chance. The house would be totally wired and the phones too before she she'd been gone an hour. I wondered how big a cock Sheila had.

******

Mabel and Sheila must have found some unusual stores. Mabel didn't get in till four in the morning. I smiled in the dark. She slid in beside me kinda slow and easy trying not to wake me. I wasn't asleep, not at all. I was at war.

I took the kids to the park the next day. We played basketball. The kids won, but they cheated. Anyway, it was a fun day. Afterwards we went to the fiesta the church was having and ate a lot of hot dogs and drank a lot of cokes and spent a lot of money trying to pitch dimes into a dish. I have never understood the mechanism behind that particular game. The damn dimes never would stay on the damn dish; they'd always bounce and skid off, well whatever.

When we got back, Mabel wasn't home yet; it was 5:00. The kids went up to play video games and take naps; they were bushed. So was I, if it came to that. I went out to the garage and checked the phone tap. There were three calls. One to her sister, one from some guy named Eric confirming some kind of meet up with him and his brother, and one from guess who: why buttfuck of course. Who the hell was Eric? Well, I'd be finding that out sooner or later. The one from buttfuck was the most interesting at least to me.

"Hello," said Mabel.

"Hi, it's me. Can you talk?" he said.

"Yeah my wimpy husband is with the kids at the park. Jesus that man is such a baby," said my wife. "He made me feel so bad last night."

"What's going on?" he said.

"Last night he was crying. Can you believe it! I know he loves me. I know he's about as pussywhipped as they come. But, crying like that. He actually made me feel bad for him. Jesus, how many times have I told him he isn't going to lose me! Dutch, I know I promised you that my pussy was for you and you alone, but I'm going to have to let him have me once in a while. He just can't handle it the way it is," she said. "It's not fair to him. We screwed up, and I have to try and make it right by him."

"Jesus! What kind of wimpy little shit did you marry for chryssakes!" said buttfuck.

"Dutch, he's a good guy. He doesn't understand what's happening to him. I have to bring him along slowly, so he doesn't get all crazy on us. You want to stay with Helen, so she doesn't rape you in a divorce; I have to stay with Jimmy, at least for now because of your situation. I have to deal with his insecurities at my end, Dutch. I'm gonna have to let him have a mercy fuck every now and again. It just has to be.

"You know, I told him to go out and find himself a woman, but he's too damn proud and moral for that. You and I are going to have to cool it for a few days too while I build his confidence back up. Okay?" she said. "I just can't have him bawling all of the time. Jesus, how I wish now that he hadn't walked in on us that day!"

"Okay, do what you think is best.

"By the by, did Eric call you?"

"Yes, the games are on. A week from Saturday; I thank you for that. It oughta be a blast," she said.

They talked about me and their plans for me for the next five minutes or so, said their goodbyes, and hung up.

Interesting, I thought. I get to have a mercy fuck. Like I would even want to touch the foul flesh of that cunt; I'd rather fuck a striped assed ape than her, I thought. But, it was going to be interesting seeing her try to get me to.

She got home by 6:30. I was surprised. But then, she had told buttfuck that they'd be cooling it for a few days. She was very nice to me.

"Hi, honey, Got something for you, but you can't have it until later." She said giggling.

"Huh? Really?" I said. I was actually wondering what it was. Johnny and Clara came in to see what their mom had gotten at the store. She produced presents for both of them. A video game for Johnny and a kid's watch for Clara. Clara had lost her watch a few days before, so this was a welcome surprise for her.

The kids jumped for joy. It was the first time in a week she'd shown them any real interest. I guess they were hoping.

Dinner was noisy; it was almost like old times. For everyone but me that is.

The kids in bed, Mabel all of a sudden was all giggly and smiley again. Of course I knew what it was, what it was a prelude to. But, I played along.

"Hey, big guy," she said to me finally. She took a seat across from me at the table. "I talked to Dutch today."

My head swiveled. She'd surprised me.

"Yes, I told him he and I had to cool it for a while. I told him you deserved better than you'd been getting," she said. She waited for my reaction. I was so surprised I didn't have one ready.

"Anyway, I see you're kinda surprised. Well, do me a favor and come on up to our room in a few minutes, okay? I want to give you your surprise."

I looked askance at her. I pretty well knew it had something to do with my supposedly getting lucky, but not exactly what. I nodded. "Okay," I said, feigning ignorance of what was up.

I puttered around for five minutes or so and headed upstairs. I made enough noise so as to give her a heads up that I was coming. What greeted me upon entering the room was an ambush. Candles and I could smell my favorite perfume; the latter had always enslaved me before. But her biggest gun was the lingerie she was wearing. Her nakedness and her bald mound were clearly visible under it. I stood there pretty much transfixed.

"Cat got your tongue, big guy," she said. She was sure she had me. I was about to disappoint her big time.

I looked her up and down. Looked her in the eyes. Turned and walked out. I hadn't spoken a word. I was almost to the bottom of the stairs when she caught up with me.

"Jim, what's the matter. I wanted to make it up to you. I mean the way I've treated you lately. Come on back up and let me prove to you that I love you," she said.

"I'm not your 'big guy' anymore, Mabel. I guess I'm a wimp as you've called me more than once lately. And, I ain't settlin' for no mercy fuck; I still got a little pride left that you haven't yet trampled in the dirt.

"But tell you what. You get on the phone right now, and tell buttfuck that you're through with him and his forever, and that you're quitting your job at that cheapass dealership, and I will call it all square, and we can try and start over. How's that?" I said. I knew she wouldn't do it of course; I'd heard what she'd said on the phone.

"Jim, this is a bona fide offer. It's no mercy fuck. I want you. I know what I've said. I don't know what I was thinking. I was wrong. Come on back up. You won't regret it," she begged.

"Make the call," I dared her.

"Okay, Jim, if that the way you want it. Forget it," she said. "I wanted to make things right with you. But, you don't seem to be able to deal with what is. It's only sex with Dutch, but you may be forcing me to make it into something more."

"Now, that's the wife I've come to know and understand lately," I said. "Don't worry. You've got me by the balls, Mabel. I won't rock the boat. But, I ain't makin' love to someone who doesn't love me, and that's all there is to it." She stomped out and upstairs; she was clearly not happy that she couldn't entice me.

******

It was Wednesday morning. I'd worked hard the previous day, I'd had to get my hands real dirty on the job. That, along with the kids at night, and well, I was pretty well thrashed. So maybe it's not too surprising that I awoke startled to see and feel my wife was sucking my cock!

"What the!" I said wiping sleep out my eyes as I sat up forcing my cock to slip from her mouth. "Whaddya you doin'" I said.

"Helping you out, Jim, and you still are my big guy, no matter what you think," she insisted.

"No, Mabel, not while you still have anything to do with buttfuck," I said. "Period."

"Okay, Jim, if that's the way you want it. I tried," she said. She actually seemed genuinely disappointed. "And, I wish you'd quit calling him names. He's a good guy. He feels as bad as I do about you catching us that day. He really likes you, you know. He told me that he hopes you and he can be friends at some point in the future."

"Get this Mabel. He will always be buttfuck to me-period. He and I will always be mortal enemies no matter what happens to us. You tell him that.

"I'll be your legal husband, Mabel, because like I say you've got me by the balls on account of the kids. But, I will not be your lover. I will not lower myself to begging you for a mercy fuck. None of that is happening.

"You want me to go to the store and buy bread, I'll go. You need an escort to the ball so you can fuck your sex toy; I'm there for you. But, don't expect me to like it or love you. Okay? Whatever love I once held for you, Mabel, and it was a lot if you care to know, is dead now," I said.

For the first time since the blowup, I think I saw tears forming behind the façade that she'd been showing to me.

During the next few days, it was cool around the house. The enthusiasm that the kids had had just days before had wilted as their mother returned to form. It was Friday evening. I got a special request from Mabel.

"Jim, I need you to take the kids to the zoo tomorrow; they've been asking. I'm having a meeting here at the house that can't be interrupted. Am I understood," she said.

I snickered. I remembered her promise not to flaunt it in my face. Well, what the hell was this! "Why don't you just tell me you need your privacy to screw buttfuck," I said. You're not kidding anybody."

"Actually, I'm not," she said. "Then it came to me. I remembered the conversation with the Eric guy. It was him and his brother that she was going to fuck. I was sick to my stomach. Something had to break pretty soon or I would.

"Fine," I said. "Whatever." I was actually happy, I was going to get it all recorded. Maybe this was the break I was hoping for. She was overconfident. A bad thing when you were screwing somebody over, somebody like me.

******

The kids and I had a ball. I liked the big cats. But, Johnny made us go back to the elephants twice; it was a long walk back up that hill. Clara loved the flamingos best. We got back at dark. The house stunk of sex. Mabel was still in the shower. I could hear the water running.

I was putting together a quick dinner for two very tired children.

"Hi, kids," said Mabel. "How was the zoo?" She was buoyant.

"Good mom," said Clara, not looking up from her mashed potatoes.

"Yeah, mom," said Johnny. "I liked the elephants best," he said.

"Really?" said Mabel. "I like the elephants too." Johnny smiled. But, Clara seemed to be ignoring the proceedings. "Which did you like best, Clara?"

"I don't know. Everything, I guess. Just bein' with dad and Johnny mostly," she said. "You should have come too, mommy."

Whatever revenge I was going to be able to visit upon this woman in the coming days and weeks, none of it was going to sting my soon to be ex-wife more than those words to her from our daughter.

Mabel's face paled. Now she was now going to be forced to apologize and lie. I actually felt sorry for her. I butted in, "You're mom had a business meeting kids. She just couldn't be with us. I know she wanted to be. Right, honey?" I said.

She looked at me strangely. "Oh my yes, I wanted to be with you guys," she said, finally. "Really."

The kids all but passed out as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

Mabel and I were getting ready for bed. We still shared the same room, same bed, same everything; we just didn't touch each other.

"You won't let me give you a mercy fuck, Jim. How about one in gratitude for what you said to the kids for me," she said.

"No," I said.

"Jim…"

"Listen, woman, you know the deal. Tell buttfuck to go to hell and take his fucking job with him, and then maybe we might be able to do something. Until then don't waste my time," I said. I slid into bed and moved to the far side where I let the sandman take over.

The day was Sunday. I got my marching orders early.

"Jim, we have to go to a party tonight. You said you'd be my escort to these things if I needed you. Well I do," she said.

"No problem," I said. "Where to?"

"The Millers'," she said.

"What! Buttfuck's!" I nearly screamed.

"You promised, Jimmy," she said. "I'm holding you to it."

"Let me ask you, Mabel. Would it do any good for me to hold you to your marriage vows? They qualify as promises don't they?" She all but sneered at the analogy. Finally she just ignored me. "Are you taking me or not?"

"Why yes, dear," I said. "I keep 'my' word."

"That was uncalled for," she retorted.

"You can't be serious," I said. And I walked off. I was going to take her to the party all right, but I had my own agenda. It was going to be hosted by the man who was cuckolding me, but I didn't give a shit about that, I was looking at this as an opportunity. I was going to be talking to the man's wife, that is if I had the chance, and I couldn't foresee a scenario where I wouldn't.

That the two of them would allow me to get that close to his wife was perhaps an indication of their confidence in themselves; their confidence was misplaced.

******

Mabel was beautiful. She wore a red sheath dress that hugged her curves exquisitely. She smelled great, her hair looked great. Her come-fuck-me heels were five-inchers; I actually got a hardon looking at her. The pearls she wore were real; I had given them to her on our first anniversary. They were a token of my absolute love and commitment.

The ride over was quiet in the main. But I couldn't get over her wearing the pearls I'd given her on that long ago anniversary. I had to say something.

"I remember those pearls," I said. "I gave them to you on our first anniversary. They were given with all of the love I had, every last ounce of it." I felt tears well up inside of me, but I fought them down.

"They are one of the loveliest things I own," she said. "I remember when you gave them to me. I wore them to honor you tonight, no matter what you think."

"If you honored me at all you wouldn't be making me part of this farce, Mabel. But if you please, just don't run off and fuck him tonight, okay. If I can't have your love at least show me that small shred of respect and not humiliate me in public," I said.

She looked over at me. She wore an exasperated expression. "Of course there won't be anything like that happening tonight, Jim. His wife will be there. Oh, and I don't have to tell you to be careful what you say around her. I mean, if she divorces him, Jim, I'll be doing the same to you. Just remember that. Remember the children."

Her playing the custody card really pissed me off. I turned to look at her. It was dark in the car. But, I am sure that she felt my stare.

She had to say it. "Jim, I know things are rocky for us right now. But, I am still hoping that in time you will come around, and we can be like we were, like we should be," she said. I was white knuckling the steering wheel. This had to end soon, this charade.

We arrived, and were ushered into the backyard where a substantial number of people were already gathered. The smell of the barbecue was enticing in spite of my frame of mind. I hadn't eaten since the previous evening, and the most primal of Maslow's hierarchical needs was controlling me.

The voice behind me chilled me. "Hello, Jim," said buttfuck. "Uh-I hope we can start becoming friends tonight. It would be to both our benefits. I mean that sincerely." I turned and looked the man up and down. I was absolutely floored by the arrogance of his words. The two of them had to have planned this assault on my mind. They had to be trying to brainwash me. But the sliminess of it made my skin crawl. I turned away and meandered among the guests. I didn't know any of them. I didn't want to. Well, not until I met her.

"Hi, she said. "I'm Lucy, Lucy Callens. You're not from the dealership are you?"

"No, just escorting tonight," I said. I inclined my head to where Mabel was talking to a small group of young men. I wondered idly if she was trying to score, or if they were. I realized I really didn't give a fuck. I was there to see buttfuck's wife, and feel her out as to how to destroy the two adulterers if I could.

"Really. You seemed lost," she said. "Anyway, I'm lost and have no escort. I'm a long time college friend of Helen's. She said I might meet some eligible men here tonight. So far no luck though.

"Is she your wife?" she said. indicating Mabel across the yard.

"Yes, for now," I said. Now why did I say that? I didn't know. Yes, I did. I wanted to get to know this woman that I had just met one-point-three minutes ago.

"Really? Problems?" she said, obviously surprised by my words and unemotional tone.

"Big and bad ones," I said. "But, let me apologize. I didn't come here to vent. Like I said, I'm escorting her; we have kind of an arrangement."

Lucy nodded. "Well, then, why don't you buy a girl a drink," she said.

"Thrilled to," I said. She took my arm and led me toward the makeshift bar. I got my martini, she got a manhattan. We moseyed over toward the wall that separated the yards in the fairly upscale subdivision.

The yard was large and featured a small pool and sundeck in one area separated by a large grassy patch from the patio with its barbecue pit. I didn't notice it. But two sets of eyes were on us, myself and Lucy that is.

"I think they're watching us," said Lucy.

I had been so caught up in talking to her, getting to know her that I really had forgotten why I was there. "Who?" I said looking up.

"You're wife and our host," she said. "Is he the one?"

"Huh? I don't know what you mean," I said.

"The one your wife is cheating with?" she said.

"Is it that obvious?" I said.

"It is now. Helen has suspected him of cheating on her for a long time. Now, we know with whom.

"I'm a lawyer, Jim. I really am Helen's friend from college. We both got our undergrad degrees at Stanford. But where she got her M.A. in the History of Art from there as well, I went off to law school at Northwestern. We stayed in contact though. We're like sisters.

"Stanford, Northwestern: I'm impressed. I'm an engineer, Cal Tech," I said.

"Oh, baby, now I'm impressed. Jet Propulsion Lab, JPL, and all that, right?"

"Right, but I'm into logistical engineering, not Space Science. You know, designing systems to get product to wherever as fast and as economically as possible?"

She smiled. "No, but it sounds impressive." Her laugh made me feel good.

"So what are your plans to handle your-situation, Jim?" she said. The conversation had turned serious.

"Attorney client privilege?" I said.

"If you hire me," she said. I reached into my wallet and pulled out a C-note. I passed it to her. She folded it and stuffed it in her bra. I smiled at that.

"Consider yourself hired," I said. "I want out of the marriage, but I want custody of my children, anything less is not an option. "I'll live with her, if I have to, for as long as necessary to make sure she doesn't come between me and them."

"Wanna meet, Helen?" she said.

"I certainly do," I said.

Halfway to the house, we were intercepted by Mabel. "Hi, honey," she said. "Will you introduce me to your friend?"

"Mabel, this is Lucy. Lucy this is Mabel, my wife."

"Can I borrow my husband for a moment," said Mabel.

"Certainly," said Lucy.

Mabel led me to the edge of the patio. She was smiling to beat the band, but her words were a warning. "Remember our deal," she said. "No naughtiness on your part tonight. Are we clear?"

"We're clear. But you're talking to all of those men. Certainly I can talk to people too, right. You even said that I should look elsewhere if I wanted or needed relief, right?" That stopped her.

"You're looking to bed her?" said Mabel. "She's at least five years older than you. Find someone younger for goodnessakes."

"Oh, I get it. I can have a woman on the side, so long as she meets with your approval. I guess, you really do think you have me by the balls, don't you," I said, as sarcastically as I could. "Oh, please tell muh missy, when is duh massa gonna free the slaves?"

She shot me a searing look and walked off. I watched as I saw her sidle up to Dutch. He looked at her, looked around, and shooed her away. It was clear he didn't want any complications tonight. I had to smile at that. It was a small victory for my side, but it was a victory nonetheless.

Having rejoined Lucy we headed into the house, into the kitchen. A handsome woman ten years my junior was mixing some more salad.

"Helen, I have a friend for you to meet," said Lucy, as she presented me to the other victim of my wife and her husband. "Helen this is Jim Layton. His wife works for your husband, and oh, sleeps with him."

Her eyes darted in my direction, but she remained calm. She wiped her hands on the apron she was wearing. "I take it you're not happy with the situation either," she said. She was not smiling, but she was under control. I sensed that she was a strong woman, and totally the superior of her "worser" half.

"You take it right. But, I can't do much until and unless I can get full custody of my babies. I will not let her have them in any possible scenario," I said.

"I see. And if I divorce shithead; then, she'll divorce you and take the kids, and so we have a problem to solve. Is that it?"

I was more than a little surprised at the quick wittedness of the woman. Buttfuck should have been thrilled to be hers instead of fucking other men's wives and risking losing her. "Yes, that's about it," I said.

"Well, we've got time, and I have some other issued to resolve myself before I lower the boom on him. Why don't we talk about how we might be able to kill two birds with one stone," she said. "I'm sure you already know that Lucy is a lawyer and a good one, and she has influence. We can find a way that will satisfy both of us, I'm sure."

We talked for some little time. But, Lucy and I had to get back to the party before the two bad people decided that they had miscalculated.

Back in the yard, we headed for the barbecue to get ourselves a couple of plates. We hadn't been noticed. Lucy and I ate and talked about everything; everything that is, except the problem. She was a mesmerizing woman. At one point, Mabel actually joined us and all was lovey-dovey and pleasantries; it was surreal.

Lucy and I hit it off. Nothing sexual or anything, but we were comfortable with each other. The good news about that was it apparently pissed my wife off. I guess nominally allowing me to find a woman on the side and experiencing the reality of same was not the same. I was actually looking forward to seeing what was going to be what when we got home. I was certain I was in for the third degree.

I was disappointed. She never even mentioned Lucy. I wasn't sure whether that was a bad or a good thing. I didn't push it.

We went to bed. She offered herself; I turned away. A little while later, I felt rather than heard her sniffling. I felt nothing for her.

******

It was two weeks later that I decided to call Lucy for an appointment. The night of the party she had given me her card. It was time to use it.

Her office in town was kinda far from my place of work and even farther from the house, but I figured that that was probably a good thing; otherwise, I might have been finding my way up her way to have lunch with her too often. I didn't need that particular complication in my life right at that moment.

"Go right in, sir," said the twenty-something receptionist. I went in and took the proffered seat.

"So, James, from your call I guess it's time to go for it," she said, setting the tone with that preamble.

"Yes. I have written up what I know about what she, they, have been doing. I also taped phone calls, and I've written down what the children have told me about, how shall I say it, her marginal neglect, if that makes any sense," I said.

"Okay, I'll take all you've got and start building the case. I won't kid you; it could be tough getting full custody for you. But, I have a PI I sometimes use. He can get us stuff that could likely be of benefit. How are you fixed financially? Can you afford him?" Over the next little while she laid it on me about the potential costs, my possible options in terms of the law, and the possible pratfalls that we might encounter if we got the wrong judge.

"Okay then, get your PI on the job muy pronto," I said. "Also, whatever else happens that I find out, I will deliver ASAP after I get it."

"Good. What are you doing this evening?" she said, surprising me.

"Nothing special. Mabel's gonna be home. She let me know she would be. She's planning to go out tomorrow though, but I don't know exactly where. I think she may be meeting a couple of guys, brothers, for sex. I'm pretty sure she's already sampled them once, but I'm not positive. One of them's named Eric, I think. Hey, you might sic the PI on her for that one. I mean… " I said.

"Already ahead of you there. Consider it done," she said, smiling. I was feeling good.

"Anyway, if you're free, how about dinner," she said, "on me."

"Huh? Dinner? On you? Absolutely not," I said. Her face fell.

"I'm sorry, I thought that. I mean I am so sorry… " she started to say.

"Absolutely not; it's going to be on me all the way," I said. The relief on her face was palpable.

"Good," she said. "Wonderful." She took one of her cards and began writing on the back of it. Here's my address and cell. Seven, Okay?"

"Seven it is," I said. "I was thinking how Mabel was going to react to my telling her I had a meeting tonight. It was going to be interesting; hell, it was going to be fun.

******

I was home on time, and the kids ran to me. "Mom is cooking a big dinner for tonight, daddy," said Johnny. "My favorite, spaghetti and meatballs!"

I laughed. "Well, good, I'm glad you're happy." Clara looked at me funny. I wondered if I was that transparent. I could swear the kid was clairvoyant.

Mabel came out of the kitchen. "Oh good," she said. "You're a little early. You can help set the table." I shrugged.

"Uh-not tonight," I said. "I have an impromptu meeting I gotta go to. Don't save a plate for me; it's a dinner meeting." The look on her face almost made up for all of the pain she'd caused me over the past few weeks. Almost.

"Meeting? You never have meetings on your job. What kind of meeting?" she said. She was obviously miffed. I think had I stayed that I would have been subjected to a full court press-sexually speaking. She was dressed awfully nicely.

"The same kind of meeting you have. I mean like your meeting last Saturday," I said. I could swear Clara was trying to stifle a giggle.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she said, heading out toward the backyard patio. I followed her out.

"What's this about a meeting?" she said. "You got somethin' going on that I should know about?" Her arrogance was almost more than I could stand let alone believe. But, it was funny too, the hypocrisy of it.

"It's a 'my' business meeting, not a 'your' business meeting," I said. You got 'em; I'm gonna have 'em too. Anything else?"

"No, I suppose not.

"Jim, I was hoping that well-I was going to try and make things right with us. I know you know I've been trying; you have to admit that. But, maybe I haven't been trying hard enough. Anyway, I was going to talk to you tonight. You know, try and maybe get you to understand what's in my head. How about it? Will you talk to me?" she said.

"Sure," I said. "But, not now. I have to get ready to go out. Tomorrow's Saturday, hold your thought. We can talk then if you want." I turned and headed back in. I could feel her eyes boring holes in my back as I went back inside.

I collected Lucy at seven on the dot. She was gorgeous. She sure didn't look five years older than me, as my wife had guessed, maybe five years younger. Well, a gentleman never asks a woman her age, not those who don't want to be introduced to mister frying pan at any rate.

Tall, maybe five-eight, thin, kinda like me. Her hair was the wildest red I'd ever seen and her freckles were actually beauty marks in her case. But it was the green of her eyes that anyone who met her would have had to notice first. She wore a billowing lavender dress and absolutely no jewelry of any kind. I learned later that not wearing jewelry was her trademark. It was her view that decorations belonged on Christmas trees, not people. I found that interesting, no, intriguing.

Seated, she wasted no time. "So, how did she react?" said Lucy.

"Huh?" Who?" I said.

"Your wife. I mean to you having a date tonight," she said.

"Oh, well, I told her I had a meeting," I said. "She didn't buy it of course, but that was just too bad. It doesn't even begin to make up for what all she's done to me."

Lucy smiled. "I see.

"Jim, you're not out with me just to get a little revenge on her, are you?" she said.

"Heavens no. I am out with you, apart from your obvious beauty of course, to have a nice, long, leisurely evening with a very interesting lady.

"But, Lucy, I have to ask, why are you out with me? I'm not all that great looking, my dazzling personality notwithstanding," I said. She actually snickered.

"Men! As a group you guys really aren't very bright, I have to say.

"Jim, I am out with you because you appear to me to be excellent husband material." That I was stunned by the sheer forwardness of her words would be somewhat analogous to observing that the German army had had a little problem at Stalingrad!

"Huh?" I brilliantly retorted.

"I say what I think, Jim. Always have. Your marriage is on the rocks and you're hurting. I will not be taking advantage of you; and I won't let you take advantage of me. But, if you're interested, I am too.

"And Jim, I'm forty-five years old. And while I'm not exactly in a hurry, I'm not in a position to be wasting valuable time either," she said. Interesting, Mabel had pretty well pegged her age, but she was only three years older than me, not five.

"Jesus," I said.

She continued. "You know, when I first saw you that night at the party, I kinda figured you wrong. You seemed like a guy who was lonely. That's initially why I came on to you. Of course after we talked, I realized you weren't lonely; you were hurting. There's a difference, not a big one but a difference nonetheless."

"Lucy, that is the most unbelievable spiel I have ever heard in my life. But, since you put it out there like that. I was figuring on coming on to you at the party too, I mean as soon as I saw you.

"And as for being husband material. I could hope to be nothing more. As for actually getting married to you; well, there are the little matters of a divorce that needs to wend its way through the legal system, and also the little matter of us working to see if we really could make it together.

"However, if first impressions mean anything, I figure to be yours, if you do indeed decide you want me, in six to twelve months that is if there is a god," I said. I swear her smile lighted up the room. I felt good. Mabel was far from my mind. In fact, if someone had mentioned her name to me at that moment, I think I would have asked, "Mabel who?"

I got home at around ten o'clock. The kids had only been down for a little while. Mabel was waiting for me. She seemed glad that I wasn't getting in late. But she was walking on eggs.

"How was your meeting?" she asked.

"Not bad, mostly talking," I said.

"Care to talk about it?" she said.

"No," I said. That obviously did not sit well with her.

"Do I know her?" she said.

"Told yuh, I don't want to talk about the meeting," I said. She just stared at me and let it drop.

"I'm going to bed," she said. "Care to join me?" Her final four words were said very softly.

"I'll be up in a little bit," I said. I was wondering if I was going to get the full court press tonight. If there was one thing I could say about Mabel in these troubled days, she was nothing if not unpredictable.

******

I did not get the full court press, but she did surprise we with a kiss on the lips. I think if I had wanted it, she would have spread her legs for me; in fact, I was sure she would have. But, she wasn't pushing it.

The kids were playing in the yard with a couple of neighborhood kids. It was warm out there, but they had evidently found a spot under our big 'ole elm tree that seemed to do for them. They each had a soft drink that they had scarfed from the frig in the garage.

"Jim, can we talk now?" she said, as I sipped my third cup of coffee of the day.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "But, I'm telling you up front, Mabel, you've got me by the balls, but I will not willingly accept another man's cum being in your pussy while I'm alive. Not ever."

"Jim, you've got it all messed up in your head. It's nothing but a kind of emotional release for me with him. I don't love him. He gets his rocks off; I get mine off; he's says goodbye; I say goodbye, and we forget about each other until the next time. That'd all it is. His wife doesn't do it for him…"

"And as you've informed me I don't do it for you," I said. "Do you have any idea how humiliating it was for me to hear that!"

"Jim, I fucking blew it when I said that to you. Isn't true. It wasn't true then and it isn't true now. I had my head a yard up my ass that day, and I… " she paused and then resumed. "Also, we, he and I, don't fuck all of the time; it's actually kinda rare, and you never get sloppy seconds or anything like that if you were wondering… " I butted in.

"How often?" I said. "How often does buttfuck stick his penis inside of you?" I said, my tone was cold.

"Jim, what does it matter how often? I…"

"I want to know," I said, interrupting her. "How often? You said we were going to talk. I'm not here to listen to a prepared speech; if we're going to talk, you are going to answer my questions-hopefully honestly."

"Maybe twice a week. It varies. Jim, I need more than you can give me. I'm not putting you down. And, I would love for you to take me, and take me often. Take me now. I was wrong before. I have discovered just how much I really do need you inside of me. Jim, I'm begging you. Fuck I wish I hadn't said all of those stupid things to you!

"Jim, I'm hoping that when we are done talking here that you will take me upstairs and fuck me raw. I need you. And it's not about any mercy fuck either, please believe that," she said. She's said it so sincerely, that not only did I believe her, but I think she had just discovered the truth of it herself.

I was silent for a full minute. To her credit, she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut and wait for me to form my response.

"You call twice a week rare? That used to be us; of course it's zero now, I mean for us. Did you consider our loving making a rare event?" I didn't wait for her to answer.

"Mabel, for sixteen years and more you have been the love of my life. But, now, after all of the things you have done to me, and continue to do to me, like telling me to deal with your adultery or leave; well, I just don't know if there is any love for you left in me.

"I have told you more than once now, that the only way for me and you to try and rebuild our almost totally destroyed relationship is for you to excoriate and dump buttfuck; But no, you are 'still' not only letting him fuck you; you are still trying to get me to accept it as being okay. Like you were playing bridge with the girls or something. It's not a card game, Mabel; it's the most intimate thing that a married couple can do. You're living in a stinking dream world; make that a nightmare world, and it's killing us.

"It's you that has to make up your mind, Mabel, and make it up fast. There is no alternative. Think about it, Mabel, the clock is ticking."

I got up and walked out. The gauntlet had been thrown down. At that moment, I had made up my mind, that if she did as I asked, that I would take her back and we would go to counseling and work our problems out. Later I would come to know, to realize, just how far from any such thing happening we actually were.

I turned to look at her as I left the kitchen. She looked frustrated and argued out.

******

I had to think about the kids. They came first, at all events, they had to come first. Both Mabel and Lucy had to understand that about me. I was their daddy, and I loved them fiercely and unconditionally.

On Monday work was slow. Good thing because I got a call at 11:13AM that chilled me.

"Mister Layton?" said the voice.

"Yes?"

"I'm calling from Mercy General, on ninth street. Mister Layton, your daughter is here; there's been an accident…"

"What!" The terror that instantly consumed me shattered my reserve. "How? When?…"

"Mister Layton, we need you to come down immediately, please," said the voice.

"I'm on my way." I yelled to my secretary that I would be a Mercy General and then I was out the door.

On my way, I called my wife at the dealership. The office aid said she'd stepped out at 11:00; she took my message. I was pissed. Where was she when our baby was in the fucking hospital! Angry didn't begin to cover it. But, I would deal with Mabel later. I left a message on her cell and another on the home phone just in case she was there fucking him. But, right now it was Clara that mattered; she needed me.

My wife called me back at 1:45 from her workplace.

"Jim? You called? I got your message from the boss' secretary," she said.

"Yeah, well there's one on your cell too, and another one on the home phone. Where the hell have you been?' I wasn't being nice; I didn't feel nice.

"What's the matter with you? I called you as soon as I was free… " she started.

"Shut the fuck up and get over here to Mercy Hospital now! Clara's hurt, bad hurt," I hung up. At that moment I didn't give a fuck if I ever saw that woman again; I was certain she'd been with her lover. If so, she would be lucky to look the same by nightfall as she had when she left for work that morning.

Clara had been hit by a car when running after a ball that had somehow gone over the fence. She'd run out onto the street to fetch it when the car had come, witnesses said, seemingly out of nowhere, and she'd been hit.

She had a broken leg and had lost a deal of blood. I donated on the spot and then been forced to wait. Mabel joined me a half hour after I'd hung up on her.

"How is she?" she said coming up to me and looking concerned. "And where's Johnny?" Well how fucking appropriate, I thought, she's genuinely concerned.

"I don't know, she's still being operated on. The hospital tried to call you first, I mean before me, but they didn't have any more luck than I did. "Where the fuck were you!" I said. "And Rose is taking care of Johnny. Rose was our next door neighbor: sixty, living alone, and great at baking pastries and sharing them with us and other neighbors.

"I-I-I was working on a project with Dutch. It's not what you think-really. I do have a job…"

"Yeah, and so do I but they got hold of me in an emergency? Why was your cell turned off?" I said. I was not being nice, not at all. She started to cry. Well fuck her.

Finally, the double doors swung open and a doctor in green scrubs came out and up to us. "She'll be okay," he said. "You can see her in a few minutes. They're wheeling her in from the operating room now. She will need to be here for a few days, but I expect a full recovery."

I sagged down onto the waiting room couch. Mabel joined me. "Thank you doctor. How soon…"

"Maybe five minutes. Not long. The nurse will come get you both," he said.

The nurse did come get us. The meeting with my only half conscious baby was tearful and happy and relieved. Mabel especially bawled like I had never seen her bawl. I knew then that she'd been fucking her boyfriend; there was no doubt whatsoever about it, and the guilt was killing her.

******

I stayed in Clara's hospital room the whole day. Except for a brief trip to the cafeteria for some coffee and a couple of packages of saltines I never left it. Mabel left for about an hour. She said she had something to do, and it couldn't wait, but that she would be back shortly. I didn't even really notice her leaving. I didn't care.

The following morning, I called in to work and Mabel didn't, but she didn't go in either. We had barely spoken to each other since our meeting in the waiting room the day before. I, we, had been sent home after 8:00PM the previous night with Clara resting comfortably.

I had the feeling that Mabel had something to tell me, but I wasn't interested in anything but Clara, and Mabel had the good sense to realize that and wait.

I had a call on my cell. It was Lucy. I started to tell her about Clara, but she interrupted me. "Jim, I know about Clara, Marcus (the PI) told me. I have some things to show and tell; you need to see me as soon as you are sure Clara's going to be fine." I promised to drop by the next day.

Clara was feeling better and was more animated than I thought possible given the cast on her leg and her overall trauma. I sighed, relieved as I could be under the circumstances. I stayed until late afternoon. I wondered what news Lucy had for me; I was afraid I knew.

I was right; I did know. Lucy, as was her usual modus operandi, got right down to business. "Jim, she fucked them yesterday," she said. "Marcus got pics and sound. They're dead meat."

"Lucy? I think you've got your pronouns mixed up. Them?" I said.

"Yes, Jim, she was the centerpiece of a gangbang. Mister Miller and a couple of young guys. You were mentioned often, but not by Mabel. She tried several times to stop them from talking about you, unsuccessfully."

I stared at her in disbelief, but that's not right either, I did believe it. My hatred for the lot of them had reached celestial proportions. While my baby was in dire straights she was out banging the neighborhood. "Lucy."

"Yes," she said.

"File. File today. I want out. And get me custody. Nothing else matters. Get me fucking custody!" I got up and stormed out. I'd have to go back to sign papers and do all of the right things. But I had something else to do first, and it couldn't wait.

Mabel had not gone to work, nor had she yet spoken to me except for the most necessary stuff for the past day and a half. I assumed she had taken a few days off because of Clara. I was at least partly wrong.

I came into the house without even closing the door behind me. I hunted her down. "Where were you really while our baby was in danger," I yelled. She was sitting on the couch in the living room with a martini, apparently not her first, at any rate I assumed it was a martini. She'd obviously been crying.

"I quit my job. I cut if off with buttfuck too," she said. It was the first time she'd ever verbally insulted her lover in my presence.

"To answer your question, and I will answer any others you think to ask, I was fucking him and two other guys while our baby was in danger. That's why no one could get me on the phone. My shame will never die over this. I assure you of that," she said.

Too little too late, but she was leveling with me really for the first time. My emotions suddenly morphed from cold hatred to simple anguish. She didn't deserve any sympathy, but I could see she wasn't asking for any either. She was suffering in the depths of her very soul, suffering bad.

"It's too late for us, Mabel. I want custody. I will pay you reasonable alimony until you can get a decent job, but we're quits. You've sold us out to your lusts and there is no going back," I said.

"I know," she said. "I hope that at some time in the future, you, Clara and you, can forgive me-and Johnny too. I don't deserve it, but I will live in that hope anyway; it's all I have now."

She was saying the right things. I would allow free visitation for her. But, any lovers she would ever entertain in the future were a non-happening. But, I knew for certain that that wasn't going to be an issue anyway. That was very clear to me from the way she was acting.

"I will be keeping the house, Mabel, because of the kids. I will give you fair value for your equity in it. That should allow you to find a place, I mean after you get a job," I said. "It's just a shame that it took a near tragedy like this to turn things around.

"I have to say though, that what you were doing to me, quite apart from Clara's near death, was and is a tragedy too, albeit of a different kind. You should have woken up before this. There might have been a chance for us then."

She ran up the stairs. She had to be alone.

The next day, at my suggestion she went to Lucy's office to sign the necessary documents. It spared her the embarrassment of being served. I had calmed down, and she was cooperating. The divorce would be final in six months.

******

The divorce underway and uncontested was a done deal. I helped Mabel move into an apartment near the junior high school that Clara would be attending next year and Johnny the year after that. We had agreed on the pickup and delivery routine for them with no problem. She would deliver them in the morning; I would take care of the pickup in the afternoons. They would visit her on alternate weekends as convenience and practicalities might dictate. Holidays we would work out later. I really had no objections to the children seeing their mother as often as each liked; kids needed both parents, and I was fully aware of that.

Mabel ended up getting a job at a local supermarket. She'd be making $14 hourly after a year's time. That, coupled with the usual union benefits had her pretty well fixed up financially. I agreed to pay her rent for that first fifteen months to give her the head start she'd need.

I know many would castigate me for not slaughtering her for all she had done. My brothers in the military, if they knew, would already have handled the problem, and that summarily. But, that just isn't me. Too, she was the mother of our babies, and she was more than sorry for how she'd acted, and especially toward me, as it turned out. But there was still one loose end that had to be handled. Oh yeah, Mr. Miller had to pay. I couldn't just shoot him, although I considered it. Anyway, I knew that sooner or later an opportunity to deal with buttfuck would turn up, and it did: the day my divorce was final as it happened.

We were standing outside the courthouse, the final decree having been granted twenty minutes earlier. Lucy and I were in the tree shrouded parking area. We were talking. Our wedding, yes we'd decided on getting married, was a month away. "You know," she said, "Helen has found several accounts that at first she knew nothing of. Marcus has been doing some hunting, and good 'ole hubby has more than a hundred grand squirreled away. She's finally ready to dump him and rape him financially. I will be having him served Monday at his work. Helen wants it to be loud, public, and embarrassing."

I laughed out loud. "Good. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," I said. I looked to the left and noticed Mabel coming out of the building. Six seconds later buttfuck emerged.

He was walking close to Mabel as she headed toward her car on the far side of the lot. She walked fast trying to nudge him away from her as she went, but he wasn't having any. He kept literally hanging over her little body trying to convince her of something.

I knew it couldn't be him wanting to get back with her. She'd made it plain to me that he and his were history. But, they were arguing about something.

"Lucy, look at that. I gotta go take care of that," I said.

"Jim, He's awfully big, be careful," she said. I smiled. One of these days these women of mine had to get it in their heads that 82nd vets were not to be fooled with-by anybody. Maybe this was the day.

"Yeah, I'll be careful," I said. I strode quickly to where her car was parked. I intercepted them just as they got there.

"Got a problem, buttfuck," I said.

"Huh? Oh, the erstwhile sissy. Tell you what cuckold, why don't you leave while your teeth are still located in your mouth," he said. "Go play with the other girls."

"Not real good at Biology are you, buttfuck. Let me guess, you were a 'C' student," I said. He snarled and stepped toward me. I backed up to be away from the car.

His self-confidence fairly glistened in his shiny pig face. Within range he unloaded on me. I let the blow land. I wanted the mark for when the cops showed up, and I wanted him to know his best wasn't "best" enough.

I stepped back once more. He'd stung me, but I'd endured worse. His second shot at glory missed by a country mile. I'd darted low and past him, and when he turned, he was greeted with a typhoon of mayhem. I wasn't counting, but I must have hit him with at least fifty blows to the head and body without suffering a single significant retaliatory blow; I wasn't even breathing hard. He sank like the sun in the west, first to his knees, and then into a semi fetal position. He was only half conscious. I took a knee beside his head and spoke to him in a low voice meant only for him and me.

"Never again come near either Mabel nor anyone else I know and love, or today will only be a prelude to a lifetime of truly untold miseries for you. Got it, buttfuck?" I said.

His eyes were rolling back into his head, but he spurted a single bloody syllable from his now swelling lips and mouth, "'kay."

I led Mabel over to the other side of the car to talk to her. "What did asshole want?' I said.

"Asshole? I thought his name was buttfuck," she said, with a half smile.

"Oh, well, asshole is his middle name," I said, chuckling myself at her attempt at humor.

"Oh, I see. Well, I told him inside that he had to tell his wife what we had done and beg her forgiveness. I told him he had to do it or I would. I gave him twenty-four hours. He didn't take it well," she said.

"Hah!" I said, "Too late. His wife is already planning on having him served. She knows everything," I said.

She looked at me funny. "Really? I thought you told me you were going to leave it to God to punish him," she said.

"Helen asked me not to rock the boat. She discovered some things that needed doing first. They've been done. He's finished in more ways than one," I said.

"You're a pretty tough guy, Jim. I never knew," she said. "The Army?"

"Not just the Army, Mabel, the 82nd airborne; we are the best of the best."

"I believe it," she said.

-----------------------------

   Series:John and Chloe Morton
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A very complicated tale of cheating and well, the usual
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/70757/john-and-chloe-morton
Published:2012-04-02
The party was okay as parties went. Well, it was except for the fact that I was all but an outcast at it. I'd known I would be. I knew no one, Chloe knew everyone; hell, she worked with them all at Sunset Properties and Real Estate. And, as usual, she floated around interacting with them all after abandoning me. Was I upset? In principle yes. What I mean is that I didn't like the people, and since I was certain that they didn't care all that much for me either, it was nice to not have to interact with them. But, that said, it rankled that my wife of twelve years would care so little about me as to abandon me and to blow me off when, after some little time, I'd had the temerity to mentioned it.

"You're exaggerating John. Stop being crazy. Get yourself a drink and chill." And just like that, like I said, she blew me off.

I could see the clock on the wall in the kitchen from where I was sitting. It read 10:30. It looked to be a long night of nothing for me. Patience not being my middle name, and with nothing else going for me, I decided to get some air. I took my drink-straight gin-and went out back to the patio.

I heard some voices, soft, coming from behind a tree to my left some twenty or so feet away. They were evidently taking a smoking break.

"Chloe looks good enough to eat," one of the two men said.

"Yeah, but she bought mister boring with her; we won't be getting any tonight," said his compadre.

"Never say never. All we have to do is get him talking, interested, about something, sports maybe. I heard him trying to talk to Nadine's husband, Mark, about the Cowboys, but Mark lost interest pretty fast. I think good 'ole John might be distractable if we went about it right," said smoker number one.

I headed back in. I was mulling over what I'd just heard. There was nothing said that would have specifically indicated that Chloe had ever given in to these assholes. But, fact was that their words left me thinking that such was not beyond the realm of possibility. That said, at the very least their confidence that they could corrupt her was disconcerting. My wife had, it's true been less than attentive to me tonight, and that was a pisser, but, cheat on me, and with losers like the guys I'd just heard bonding with each other; I hardly thought so. That said, I decided to let them take their shot. Not because I wanted to test Chloe; I didn't. No, I wanted to be able to put the rascals down-at some future date-having collected evidence of their failure. At any rate I was prepared for their little ploy, and I hung around in the living room waiting for one or another of them to come to me. The ball was in their court.

Now for a little background, background that is necessary to understanding what ensued at the aforementioned party and the days that followed immediately thereafter.

******

Chloe and I met in a bar, The Blue Fox. I was cruising; she was cruising, and damn if the twain didn't meet. We had a few drinks, we danced a few dances, had coffee at a nearby Bob's Big Boy, made out in the car in front of her apartment building, and were married six months later. How's that for being succinct?

Chloe was tall at five-ten, and the body was a work of art. The voice was a lilting contralto, the hair the blond of legend; oh, and her smell that of a female in constant heat. And her heat engendered heat in me that threatened my health. Chloe was thirty-eight years old the night of the party just alluded to. And me…?

I'm five-seven, medium build, been told that I'm handsome; and, if it matters, I'm possessed of a formally documented genius for numbers. That, I suppose, is my primary excuse for becoming an accountant. I'd done some interning early in my career, but now I was the successful entrepreneur: owner and operator of Morton Records and Accounting Ltd.

Chloe graduated from our local junior college-A.A. degree-with an emphasis in General Business. She'd signed on with Sunset at a job fair sponsored by the college. Her initial position had been as an office assistant. But, after having passed the state real estate licensure exam, she'd begun rising in the ranks of sales agents. She was now their number one producer.

Me? I graduated with an MBA in Business Administration from the University of Chicago with an emphasis in-well yeah-Accounting.

Professionally, we were, the two of us, doing quite well, thank you very much. Our home life? Not so much.

When first we'd met at the Blue Fox, we'd both been into our careers for nigh on two years. The only reason for mentioning this last was the common fact that we were, likewise, both busy trying to make a name for our respective selves in our professions which kind of put the boff on us doing a lot together. Still we did have our moments, and we did get along.

Family? We'd had no children though of late we had talked about maybe going that route; well, the clock was ticking. Parents and siblings? Mine lived in Southern California, hers in Chicago. We saw them on the big Holidays: Thanksgiving at the one and Christmas at the other, and occasionally other times. We'd settled in Springfield, a couple of hundred miles from her parents; and did see them a sight more than we did mine due to the geography of the situation.

As noted above, we generally got along pretty good, that is we had-emphasis on the past tense. In recent months, things had been a little on the what-chilly-side. Sex had been sporadic and while not exactly rare, it's been too rare for me. We'd talked it over, she and I, and things'd improved, but I was beginning to get the feeling that she was more or less just going through the motions, and it bothered me-a lot. A bored partner was a major turn off; well, it was for me.

******

I was milling around the room holding my martini and smiling a lot. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man talking to another man while furtively glancing in my direction. I smiled; the game was afoot. Would she or would she not? That was the question. She sure as hell was going to get the opportunity, about that there was not a scintilla of a doubt.

The man approached me. "Howdy. Charles," he said, introducing himself.

"John," I said.

"You seem a little lost," he said.

"Lost? No, not really, my wife works for the company; and, the party, she informed me, is kind of a command performance," I said.

"I see," he said. "Which is your wife?"

"Chloe Morton. She's around somewhere schmoozing the powers, I guess," I said.

"Chloe, yes, one of our best," he said. "So the Giants gonna win it all?"

"Football?" I said.

"Yeah, the Superbowl."

"I'm kinda partial to the Patriots. But, the Giants might do it if they find a runner in a heck of a hurry," I said.

We talked for some little time, refreshed our drinks and talked some more. Every once in a while another guy would join us for a moment or two, and then drift off leaving us once again alone. It was clear that Charlie, good 'ole Charlie, was running point for the gang of seducers. Still, my plan, my test, per my wife's fidelity, required that neither he nor I make an issue of the fact. And, for the hour and four minutes that we were engaged with each other, Chloe had not once made an appearance.

Over the course of the conversation with Charlie, and with the alluded to parade of company minions, I'd drawn a couple of conclusions. One Charlie was a moron. Capable of tying his shoes I was sure, but not much beyond that. Two, the parade of minions were not even up to his standards! Of course they were but four of the probably forty souls at the party, so any generalization as to the intellectuality of the Sunset Enterprises workforce would have been premature. Nevertheless, had I been in charge of their HR division, I would have been more than a little worried.

All of the above being true, the world still turns on its axis; and at length Chloe did return. Her face was flushed, her makeup not quite smeared, her hair was now tied in a ponytail, and the buttons on her blouse were misaligned: Jesus! she must think I'm blind as a bat, I thought. She'd been fucked, probably, by at least four different men.

Charlie was standing by me when she came up. His face initially signaled some little alarm-even Charlie could see that Chloe was a mess. This was my moment. One that I had mentally prepared for. I had planned for either of two outcomes; this was outcome B.

"Hi honey," she said. "Ready to go home?" I was smiling to beat the band.

"No-no, not yet. Charlie here has kept me busy for the past hour or so; and we're just now getting to know each other well enough to consider ourselves close acquaintances," I said.

"Huh?" she said. Now, Charlie began to look even more uncomfortable than he had been. Even so, he was clearly not quite getting it.

"Yes, of course. Hi, Charlie. So, you and my hubby have been getting to know each other?" said Chloe.

"Why yes, actually… " he started.

"Well, not exactly, dear," I said. "I've been getting to know him, but he hasn't a clue about me." My wife knitted her brow and spread her hands in a whaddya mean gesture. She knew me, and she knew what my tone presaged.

"Well, dear, actually he's been keeping me occupied while you were getting screwed by three of the four musketeers, you know: dickhead, butthead, asshole and jackass," I said. I was making a leap to judgment here that the three minions, who had earlier joined Charlie and me for conversation, were the ones who were banging my woman and hanging horns on me; and, Charlie of course had to have been the fourth; I wasn't sure how he'd managed it, but I was sure he had.

"What are you saying!" said Charlie, now clearly understanding why he was feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm saying, Charlie, that you have been keeping me busy while your buds screwed my wife.

"Isn't that so, dear?" I said. My demeanor was very obviously keeping my wife off balance.

"What are you talking about!" she said. I smiled and stared at her. She started to switch her weight back and forth between her legs. You can't talk to me like that! I have done nothing wrong."

"Hmm… " I started.

"What makes you think you can talk to me, accuse me, like this and get away with it!" Charlie said, his voice rising a noticeable decibel or two.

"Well, Charlie, because my IQ is six points higher than Einstein's, and yours-well-isn't," I said.

"Now, wait a minute you arrogant bastard!" he said.

"Yes, I'll wait. I don't want to go home yet. It's still early. I want to stay a while yet. And, Charlie, I've gotta tell yuh, man; you stink! What is that awful cologne you've got on. Where did you get it? The dollar bin at Wall Mart?" I turned away from him to pay attention to my wife. I think his mouth was hanging open.

"You okay with hanging around a little while, dear?" I said.

"No, I'm not okay with that. How dare you accuse me of cheating on you! I repeat, I've done nothing wrong," said Chloe.

"Chloie, Chloie, Chloie. Why did you change your hairdo, dear, and your makeup is very different than when we arrived, and your blouse is mis-buttoned; and, I really hate to bring it up, dear, but you smell like Old Spice. And, I'm betting the farm that your undies, if you're still wearing any, are not in the same condition as they were when we left home earlier tonight!"

"Well… " she started and stopped.

"Well what, dear?" I said.

"John, I…"

"Yeah, Johnny baby, you try anything, and you might have a problem," said Charlie, now almost frothing at the mouth.

"Try anything? Why would I want to do that? I'm not into fisticuffs," I said. He sneered.

"That's what I thought. You're a wimp, aren't you, Johnny baby," he said.

"Quite possibly," I said. "And, you're a moron."

"John-please, can we go home. We need to talk. I mean right now," she said. I was howling inside.

"No, anything you've got to say to me can be said here in front of my new bud, Charlie." I said.

"I ain't your bud," Charlie said.

"Now, now, Charlie. I'm not mad. Only dogs get mad. A little disappointed in myself. I mean I thought I had it pegged that Chloe would send the lot of you home with cases of blue balls, but I clearly misjudged her in that.

"How long have you been hanging horns on me, dear?" I said. "I'd really like to know." She looked away.

"Jesus, that long?" I said. "I had no clue. Well, as they say, love is blind."

"What are you going to do?" she said, looking me straight in the eye. I looked around. We were actually standing inside the formal dining room, of her boss' house. No other folks were immediately nearby, but we had gotten looks from the occasional pass-througher.

"Depends on you. You wanna stay married to me?" I said. Her look brightened slightly.

"Yes!" she said.

"Well, okay. I can live with what you did-been doing tonight-but there is a price. Actually, a small one in your case," I said.

"Okay?" she said.

"We make the rounds here, now, tonight, and inform all of the wives of the fuckwads you did it with exactly what you did," I said. Her eyes got as big as dinner plates.

"John! No! I'll lose my job! John, anything else, please!" she said.

"Look, John, she's right. No harm no foul, bud. Please. I'm asking you too. Those guys; they were only after a good time. There was a bet…"

"Oh ho! I'm your bud now?" I started. He quailed.

"A bet! Hal and Murray and Bill and you bet you could do me, Charlie!" said Chloe, now my wife was pissed.

"Well, the boys, well they thought it was kick-you know to try and do you while your hub… John… was… " said Charlie

"You bastards!" said Chloe.

"Yeah, they did, Chloe," I said. "I heard two of them talking when I went out to get some air. You weren't around, and I was bored.

"The two guys I heard talking didn't know, at the time, that you were already boning her though, did they Charlie?" I said, as I pinned him with my look. I was guessing, but it made logical sense.

"Listen, John, please, we could all lose our jobs. Please, don't do this. I'm begging you," he said.

"Hmm, that would be tragic. Tell you what. You guys are all married right. Kids? The whole nine yards, right?" I said.

'Well, yeah," he said.

"Well, okay. This is the deal. You fellows screwed my woman, my wife, the love of my life. And yes, Chloe, there has never been anyone but you in my life, my heart. My god how I love you!" She started to cry.

"Still, Charlie, you and your friends-and I mean all of you-need to pay. You, Charlie, are going to manage things. You are going to set it up so I can have a shot at your wives-all of them." His eyes glazed over.

The two of them seemed almost catatonic. "Wha…?" said Charlie.

"I'm not speaking Greek, Charlie. I'm gonna fuck your wife and Hal's and Murray's and Bill's. Got a problem with any of that, Charlie?" His mouth was hanging open. He seemed frozen in place.

"Here's my card, Charles. Call me, by tomorrow.

"Now, I think we can leave. Coming, dear?" I said.

******

I watched her disrobe. She was angry or scared or something. Scared was the most likely.

"You really going to fuck other women? Cheat on me?" she said. I started to laugh.

"Is that a serious question from the woman who only an hour ago was busy making me her cuckold. Humiliating me with the people she works with? Is that it?" I said.

"Well I…"

"Exactly. Fair's fair, right Chloe?" I said.

"John-honey-I screwed up, okay? I did it, and I'm sorry. But, well, two wrongs don't make a right. Please don't do this. Those women might not even do what you want anyway, and having those men ask them to will only tip them off as to what their husbands did. Yes, I admit it, and me too," she said.

"Tell me, Chloe, what would you have me do? Just forget about it and go on as though nothing happened?" I said.

"Well…"

"Go on, convince me. Tell me what to do," I said. "Because I am not into being the laughingstock of your company."

"John, if you will let this go. Just forget about it like you said; well, I would be very grateful. And I will do more than my level best to make it up to you. We can start right now. Let's go upstairs, so I can make the first installment on my promise. Whaddya say?" she said.

"You're actually offering me sloppy seconds. You're going to actually have me couple with you while you're full of cum from four different men? That's your idea of making it up to me?" I said. She paled.

"Well-no-I mean, I wasn't thinking, of course I'd shower and clean up first," she said. I smiled.

"Let's go," I said. "I'm pretty sure none of them had your ass. I'll dump my load in there. Okay?" I said. She looked at me, horror painting her face.

"John, I never, I mean you and I have talked… " she started.

"You turning me down, Chloe? Your 'never' ended tonight as far as I'm concerned," I said. Her face was sheet white, she was shaking her head, she'd backed up a couple of steps: she was actually afraid of what I was suggesting. "Never mind. I'm kinda turned off anyway with all of this talk and with what all happened tonight. I'm tired. I'm gonna just go to bed."

"Wait, wait. Okay, John. My ass, take my butt. I owe you that much at least," she said. I wasn't smiling now as I answered her.

"No, Chloe. I don't want to anymore. For these last many months you haven't been interested in having sex with me at all. Oh, when I really pushed, I've been able to get you to spread for me. But your heart hasn't been in it. The fact is you've been bored with me. And, as a result you've been boring. I need more from my woman than just tolerance. I need excitement, love, enthusiasm. What I've been getting from you, frankly, has not been enough. So no, your butt's safe from me, Chloe. You have nothing to fear," I said.

"John, I'm sorry. Please, give me a chance. I know I can make this right with you. I will do my best to change-no-I will change. It will be like it was when we were first married. Just give me a chance. Please, John," she said. She'd just said the magic words.

To anyone else it might have seemed too little and too nothing. But, when we were first married the things we did were scorching hot! I did want that back. I wanted it back more than anything. More even than getting revenge on the five sinners."

"Okay," I said. "But, I'm not messing around here, Chloe. If I suspect that you're faking it, if I find out that you are spreading for anyone else, I will lower the boom on you and them suddenly and without remorse. No second chances."

"John, thank you-thank you-thank you.

"John, can I ask for one favor?" she said.

"What favor?" I said.

"Can I call Charlie and tell him that he doesn't have to-set things up? Please." I nodded, but with narrowed eyes. Did she have Charlie's personal phone number. And if she did, why did she have it?"

******

"No, don't suck it. Tickle it. Tease it. Play with it," I said. She scooted down the bed a little ways and began doing what I'd asked of her.

She was driving me crazy. It was something we hadn't done for years and now we were again. Her touch was so light, so soft. It took a little while, but I shot a rope three feet into the air. I lay back gasping for breath from the tension.

She switched positions and got up on her knees. She pushed her butt back at me. I started licking her pussy, yes even with their cum still in it, my nose grazing her anus. She was woman and she was sexy and she was mine. She was mine for at least this night; I was sure of it. She wasn't faking it. She was trying a little too hard, but how do you fix something like that on the fly; I sure as hell had no clue; so, I let her keep trying.

"I knelt up and rubbed my cock against her slit. I started to push in, but she stopped me.

"John, I want you to take my ass. I won't kid you, I'm a little afraid of it; but I do owe you, and I swear by god that there will be no faking it anymore. Enthusiasm? You want enthusiasm? Well, do me good. Do me like the bull you used to be. Don't mess around okay. But, for god's sake be careful with me this first time. Please," she said.

This changed things. I looked around, no KY. I got my face down there and made serious love to her anus.

"Huh? Wha…"

"Just relax, wife. This one is going to be the best I can do," I said. I was still soft, but I was recovering. I could feel it. There was just something sexy and obscene about sucking on my wife's butt hole. I began to enjoy it-a lot.

It took some minutes, but I got it up again. And, at least the outer rim of her anus was well lubricated. I knelt up again and began to push inside of her. I got the head in and paused.

"Go ahead, honey," she said. "Take me." I did. Soon I was seesawing in and out of her. I got myself into a rhythm and I could even feel her pushing back at me to get me deeper. She was enjoying it!

"You okay, wife?" I said.

"Yes, yes, stop talking and get serious now, okay," she said. A few minutes more and I unloaded inside of her. I felt her buckle and squirm. I was pretty sure she made it.

We lay half comatose for some little while. I felt her eventually slide down my body and start playing with my dick. Even covered in her dirt as it was; she took it in her mouth and got me seriously hard. She worked me up to the point where I was going to roll her over and fuck her juice laden pussy, but I never got the chance. I blew my third load of the night, and painted her ribcage instead as she jerked her mouth off my exploding dick. I felt like a bum not being able to get her pussy off.

I'd wanted to take her pussy, take my sloppy seconds; hell, I'd eaten her with the cum still coating her insides. But, there was no way, I wasn't going to get it up again for quite a while, maybe not until morning, I thought.

She rolled off to the side and onto her back. We lay side by side huffing and puffing.

"You didn't get off, did you?" I said.

"Almost when you were doing my butt," she said. I nodded. Then, I did something that would lead to a whole new set of rules and druthers down the road. I spun around on top over her and went down on her again. She tried to buck me off, but I was not going to be denied or stop until I was sure she'd made it.

"What the fuck are you doing, John! You don't have to keep doing that. You can do me in the morning. At least let me shower! I stink!" She was all but screaming. I ignored her.

Soon, she went silent, breathing heavily, but generally silent. I felt her stiffen and moo and make small gurgling sounds. She'd made it. She shivered and squirmed under me for some little time before stiffening and farting. Oh yeah, she'd made it.

Finally done, we lay cuddled in each other's arms. "Why?" she said.

"Because I love you, and because you went down on me even though there had to be stuff on my dick that you won't be finding on the menus of any restaurant worth its salt," I said. She laughed.

"No, I wouldn't suppose so," she said. And then we slept.

******

I was stirring my coffee, coffee that had nothing in it to stir. Well, it was a habit.

"Why do you do that, honey," she said.

"Don't know. Nervous habit, I guess," I said. She paused; she sighed; she folded her hands in front of her, and looked over at me.

"So, where are we, John? Where do we go from here?"

"We put one foot in front of another and start over. I love you, Chloe, and don't want to lose you. I don't know how long you've been cheating on me, but before we leave this table this morning I'm going to know. I am also going to know the reason why. And, you're going to convince me that you won't do it again.

"Your friend, Charlie called me a wimp. I guess I am when it comes to you. But I am not totally brain dead. The fact is I'm pretty smart. Right now, I have it within my power to destroy Charlie and Murray, and Bill and the other guy. But…"

"John, my affairs haven't hurt us, and they're not going to hurt us now," she said.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you saying, implying that you intend to keep on doing what you've been doing?" I said. I had not so far raised my voice.

"Well-no-not exactly," she said.

"Not exactly? What the hell does that mean!" Now, I had raised my voice.

"I know-I mean I realized that I humiliated you at the party. One, by not paying attention to you most of the night; and two, by humiliating you in doing it with those men while you were there. But…"

"But what?" I said.

"Well, when we left, when we were in the car on the way home, I was trying to think of ways to make it up to you, beg your forgiveness while swearing to myself the whole time that things like that were never going to happen again. But then-well-you virtually forced me to have sex with you. Sex by the way, that was the best we'd had in years. And yes, I mean including you doing me in the butt," she said. "You ate my pussy with their junk still in me, you frenched me knowing I'd probably sucked their cocks. You were an animal."

"So, I was horny? So what?" I said.

"Well, it showed me that what I'd done and had been doing was no threat to us, and, I think you realized it too. Sooo…"

"Get to it, Chloe. I'm tired of the word games. Okay!" I said.

"So, I want to continue. But instead of me being selfish about it, I want to include you. I mean us be a team. What do you think?" she said. I think my mouth was hanging open a foot.

"You telling me I'm not enough for you? Is that it?" I said.

"John, please don't get mad, okay? But, John, you're okay in bed. And sometimes, like last night, you do real good. But-well-overall you're at best average. I'm not saying that to hurt you. My god I'm not, I swear. In every other way you do it for me. You do it better than anybody, but when it comes to sex… " she stopped in mid-sentence.

"What ways, other ways do I do it for you?" I all but snarled. It may have been my imagination but she seemed to shudder.

"John please, You're the best in the really important things. Sex, the best sex, is only a matter of a few hours a week at most. The stuff you do, that your good at; well, it's all of the time.

"John, you make a home for us, you make me feel safe and loved, and valuable. It's you at night I look to for comfort and reassurance that everything is okay. I'd let myself forget all of that for a while, but I never will again," she said. "Never! John, I am so ashamed of the way I treated you at the party. I'd rather die than humiliate you like that again. Honestly."

I felt my breathing becoming labored. I was snorting, angry, full of disgust. "I'll be leaving now. I will see a lawyer this afternoon. You probably want to see one too," I said. Her eyes went wide.

"A lawyer? Why?" she said. "You're not thinking of doing something rash are you, John? Please tell me you're not."

"No, I'm giving you what you evidently can't live without. Now that I know I'm all but worthless in bed; a pretty good hit to the old ego, I gotta tell yuh; I coulda gone my whole life without hearing any of that shit; I'll be divorcing you and getting on with my life. You be well, yuh hear. I do love you, Chloe, oh my god do I, even though it's clear that you don't really love me," I said.

I stood, looked around, and smirked my bitterness at her. "Thanks a helluva lot for nothing," I said. I grabbed my coat and keys and headed for the door.

She finally found her voice. "John, wait! I do love you. I love you the most John, more than anybody… " I think she realized what was saying and she stopped and covered her mouth with her hand. I'd stopped when I heard her say that last and stared at her. Her look was pleading; it was almost funny. "John, we need to talk some more. John!" But, I was gone.

******

"He just walked? And you haven't seen him for the past three days? Or heard from him?" said Charlie.

"No, and I'm scared. I can't lose him, Charlie. I just can't. He's everything to me in the most important ways. And, I told him that. He just wasn't hearing me. I don't know what to do, Charlie. What should I do," she wailed.

"Not much you can do unless he comes back and gives you that chance. I can't believe you told him he was no good in bed. You had to know that that was going to hit him pretty hard in the old ego," he said.

"Yes, yes, I know that now. But, I didn't mean it that way. He's not that bad. Just not extraordinary. He's okay, actually. I like it when he tries to please me," she smiled. "I get a kick out of how desperately he tries to please me; it's so cute. In those moments I do my level best to make him think I'm cumming. But, now…"

"Make him think you're cumming! Are you kidding me! JESUS-HQ-REE-EYEST! You have no hope of getting that man back. He knows now what you really think, and he also knows that he can never please you. Sexual prowess is everything to any man. You could wear your sexiest clothes, spray on your most man-destroying perfume, and he wouldn't even be able to get it up for you now because of the horrible humiliation you laid on him. Worse, he might not be able to perform for any woman; that's how bad what you did was.

"Criminy, Chloe, you are so damn dumb. What were you thinking!" said Charlie.

"I told him he was far more important in everything else; everything that really mattered. He just wasn't hearing me," she said.

"There is nothing more important than sex, Chloe, nothing! Not to a man. Okay, maybe air, food, and water; but nothing else. I'm telling you. If you have a brain in your head, and that's a very doubtful proposition from where I stand. You have to plan, and plan good in case he does return. Jesus, if he unloads on the rest of us because of the hurt you dumped on him, there'll be a whole bunch of other divorces, not just yours and his. And, I mean hell to pay! Hell to pay, goddamn it!"

******

I'd been sitting on the same barstool for the best part of five hours straight, well, not counting a number of peepee breaks. The Gridiron served ale on tap; I'd gotten to like the ale better than beer. The burgers were pretty good too. And the Grid had the added benefit of a bartender who knew his job: Ray Goodman wasn't pretty, but he did know his sports and he could be counted on to entertain the occasional hapless or otherwise unhappy patron that had the unmitigated temerity to darken his door. I was one such patron for damn sure.

"So, she insulted your manhood. Is that the only reason you're dumping her," said the lady on the barstool to my right.

"Melanie, she cheated on me. Probably for a long time, maybe years. Never got a straight answer to that one," I said.

"Oh," she said.

I hadn't seen her in more than twenty years, but I recognized her right away, and she me.

I'd known Melanie Landsdale since we were kids; we'd gone to high school together. I'd been her date for her senior prom. She'd been a year behind me and had been more than good to me by asking me to escort her. Petite at five-two and less than a hundred weight. She was pretty and delicate and kind hearted. Hell I shoulda asked her to marry me instead of the whore I had.

But, here she was trying to convince me to go back to Chloe and try and work it out. Women! Did they all stick together in these kinds of things? Sure seemed so.

"Well, even so. Unless your marriage was on life support for other reasons, there might still be hope for the two of you," she said.

"Yeah right, like that's a possibility," I said.

"Let me ask you big boy, Have you cooled off a little since you had the blowup?" she said.

"A little, I've gotten my breath back," I said. She smiled.

"Hmm, You might want to try one more time, John. You gotta key to the house. You probably left most of your clothes and what all there. Right?" she said.

"All of it," I said. "I'd had to shop to have anything to wear these past few days."

"There's your face saving excuse. You're not going back to makeup-which you really are-you just need your clothes. If she blows you off, unlikely from what you told me, you still have the initiative. If she begs for forgiveness, likely from what you're telling me; well, you've got the initiative. So have your conditions for reuniting ready," she said.

"I don't know. She thinks I'm worthless in bed. How am I supposed to get around that?" I said. Now she laughed outright and seemed unable to stop. She started holding her side she was laughing so hard.

"Yeah funny," I said, without a trace of humor.

"Calm down cowboy. We women can build, crush, and rebuild a man's ego almost at will. Give her a chance. But, John, do not be her willing cuckold under any circumstances. If fucking around on you is her idea of a happy marriage, get the hell out of Dodge muy pronto," said Melanie. "You don't need it, the stress, nobody does." I was nodding, unconsciously nodding, and I could not have said why, not at that moment.

"I don't know, Mel, she clearly doesn't want me. I mean what would be the point?" I said.

"That isn't what you told me just a bit ago, John. She said that she did want you. She did also say that you weren't exactly an allstar in bed, but not every guy is regardless of what any of you guys think. That she said that to you is curious. If I had to guess, she might have been trying to get across two thoughts. One, she wanted to be absolutely honest with you no matter what; which, is a good thing in itself. Two, she wanted you to realize that, while sex was a neato thing, it pales in comparison to all of the things you-John-are good at.

"John, that you took her words as a total put down seems way out of whack to me. Still, all of the above said. She is a cheater. That leaves you with three decisions, choices, to figure out," she said.

"Yeah, and what might those be?" he said.

"One, you have to decide if you are willing to try and get by her serial cheating over so long a period. Your rationale for that might be that the quality of life you enjoyed-in your ignorance of what was going on-makes such a choice palatable. Two, you need to decide whether or not you can believe her if she does make the decision to give up her little bedroom adventures; and this one might be hard to rationalize. Trust is a fragile thing in a marriage once lost it's real hard to get back. And finally, You have to decide whether or not it's worth all the hassle of going back regardless; this one is a matter of how you feel.

"You know, you should have been a lawyer, Melanie. I mean…?"

"I am a lawyer, big boy: Murphy, Jones, and Putnam," she said. I'm a senior associate. She handed me her card. That I was speechless was a matter of scientific fact. "We have offices downtown."

"Huh?" was my more than brilliant reaction."

"Call me. Let me know if you need any help," she said. I think I was nodding.

******

I looked around and everything seemed normal. No sign of Hal, Murray, Bill, or Charlie.

I was standing in the living room when I heard the garage door opener engage. She was home.

I decided to play the role. She came into the living room. She looked kinda a down and out. Then, she saw me.

"John!" you came home. Thank god! I was so worried," she said. I remained silent. I had a plan.

"John? Are you okay? Are we okay? I know I blew it the other day. God, how I wished I could have those stupid words back," she said. I still remained silent.

"John come on, please, say something," she said.

"Whaddya want me to say, Chloe? What is it you want this worthless in bed cuckold to say?" I said.

"My god, how I must have hurt you! I will never forgive myself. I didn't mean it, John. Not like it came out. Really, I didn't. You're fine in bed. And a cuckold? That's just a meaningless word. You're my husband, and the only man in the world I give a damn about," she said. "I am so sorry."

"The other day you essentially told me that you were going to keep on doing it, cuckolding me. Your tone indicated that you were not only going to keep on doing it to me, but that you were going to be keeping on whether I liked it or not. Has anything changed since then?" I said. She looked down.

"Yes. I will not do it any more, John. I promise. And, I will make it my business to be a better lover than I have ever been, and all for your benefit and yours alone," she said. I nodded.

"The reason I'm here, Chloe, is that someone advised to try and save our marriage in spite of what you've done to me. They also advised me to never accept being a willing cuckold. Not much I can do about what went on before. But no more. No more, Chloe," I said. She began nodding furiously.

"Oh my god! You're going to forgive me! Thank you-thank you-thank you, my husband." I wasn't able to withstand her onslaught: she bowled me over onto the couch and began kissing me as though her life depended on it.

I'd have to guess that it was half an hour later, that we lay beside each other on the bed, naked and smelly and covered in each other's juices.

"God that was good," she said. I rolled onto my side to look at her. Her gaze was firmly focused on the ceiling above us. I could tell by her look and her tone that what she'd said was for the benefit of my ego. She wasn't actually lying, I didn't think, but she wasn't being exactly straight with me either. I didn't push it at that moment, but there would be a time; yes, there would.

"Chloe, I love you. I love you more than my life. But that love took a pretty good hit when I found out about your-proclivities. I hope we can get ourselves to place where we're gonna be okay, where I can trust you and trust what you say. For us to make it, trust is going to be a prerequisite," I said.

"I know. That will be my number one priority," she said. The words were right, but like I said, I'm pretty smart. There was something in her look that left me less than certain of her sincerity. I nodded, closed my eyes and hoped for the best. Melanie, I thought, I sure hope you were right in getting me to come back.

******

"Chloe, you look happy today," said Charles. It was a slow day at the office, and most of the agents were at their desks busy with paperwork or down at the hall of records doing whatever.

"I am. John came back last night," she said.

"Well-good. And thank heavens. So, are you and I still on for the weekend, or…?" he said.

"The party?"

"Yes, of course, the party. The one that was supposed to help you forget your troubles, and your-we thought-soon to be ex-husband," said Charlie. She smiled.

"There's not going to be a divorce, Charles. I just got done telling you that he came back. We're patching things up. We're sticking it out, John and I. But, to answer you first question. Yes, the party is still on, but John will be the one taking me. Sorry, Charlie, but I've got a whole lot of fence mending to do," she said. He snickered.

"I gotta tell yuh, I'm glad he came back. I was still worried that he might-well-you know. But anyway, me and the boys can hang out on the sidelines for a while, that's cool, Chloe; but, I'll bet dollars to doughnuts you won't be able to stay faithful to him for long. You need more than any of us can give you, Chloe, certainly more than he can. You're a slut, a died in the wool down and dirty you better believe it whore-and that's a good thing as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, me and the guys are gonna be antsy, but we will be patient" he said.

"You can hope but… " she started. You know, there might be a way. It'll be more the occasional thing," she said.

"Occasional thing?" he said.

"Yes, his job. He can be gone as much as eight to ten hours when he's handling a big ticket client for the firm. It's a run-run-run kind of business. He never even calls me. He just comes home and dies. Good money, but exhausting for him," she said. Charlie was nodding his approval.

"Really good," he said. "Is there any way to get advance notice? You know so we can plan," he said.

"Sure, I have access to his planner. It's a not a problem that part," she said.

"Sounds like we have a deal," said Charlie. "Oh, and Ritchie wants to join our little band."

"Ritchie? Ritchie Peachtree! Are you nuts, Charlie! That's the boss' grandkid. If Elmer were to find out, we'd all be canned. That, not to mention the slew of divorces-including mine-that would definitely be happening," said Chloe.

"Don't sweat it, girl. The boss isn't going to find out. We got stuff on the kid. He isn't going to be running to daddy. And, even if he did, we have leverage," said Charlie.

"Don't tell me! I don't want to know," said Chloe. "Jesus this occasional gig of ours is already getting out of hand, and we haven't even done anything yet!"

"You worry too much," said Charlie. She was shaking her head slowly.

"You better be right, Charlie. I know stuff too. You fuck me up, and you'll be right there with me gettin' it in the ass, and it won't be pleasurable."

******

We arrived early. The party was to start at seven, but according to Chloe, she had to be there to help with the set up; and, she'd volunteered me to help out too.

Jerry Belty, a friend and coworker of hers, caught me up almost as soon as we'd unburdened ourselves of our coats.

"Nice to see you again, John," he said. "Could I get you to go with me to the store. Forgot a few things, don't wanna run out," he said.

Chloe nodded her approval, I shrugged. "Sure, sounds good. Let's go," I said.

"Glad you could see your way clear to come tonight, man," he said, as we tooled down the road to the supermarket. "Hope you have a good time."

"Yeah, well, glad to be invited," I said. "I know Chloe is too."

"Yes, yes, We all love Chloe," he said. There was something in his words, his tone, that made me feel a little uncomfortable. But, I laid it off to me being paranoid since the big argument. We got the stuff, salsa, ice, and more wine. As for the wine, Jerry allowed that there was plenty of beer at the house, but the women, who were mostly wine drinkers, had been somewhat shorted. We were tasked, as he said, to seeing to that particular oversight.

******

The food was good, the booze enough, and the party was in full swing. Chloe had wandered off, but we'd spent most of the night with each other or at least within sight of each other, so her being gone missing for a short time didn't bother me much-at first. But, then it did, And, I went on a surreptitious search. I found her, but she didn't know she'd been found. She was in the comfort room with Carol Mrowicki. And yes, I was listening in, just outside the door; call me a rotter.

"So, you gonna let Charlie have you again?" said Carol.

"Not sure. John has me on a short leash, and I can't lose him. He's way too important to me. I miss the sex, but if it comes to a choice between Charlie and the boys or my husband, Charlie and the boys come off a poor second," said Chloe.

"You know there is a solution to your problem," said Carol.

"Yeah, but it won't fly with John. I tried, and it very nearly cost me my marriage," said Chloe.

"What if it was his idea," said Carol.

"His idea? Yeah right, like that's ever going to happen," said Chloe. I could almost sense Carol smiling as the conversation came to a momentary lull.

They were still talking as they came out. I decided to bust in on their little party.

"Hey, there you are," I said, smiling at Chloe.

"Yeah, we were just talking girl talk," said Carol.

"Oh?" I said. "Not making any plans that don't include me, I hope."

"No, no, honey, none," said Chloe. Carol gave me a look that I could not for the life of me read.

As we danced I kept an eye out for anything that might have smacked of something untoward, unacceptable. I did see Charlie with his wife, Donna. Good 'ole Charlie was making a strenuous effort to not stare at me and mine. Bill was missing, out of town was the reason put forth. But, Hal and Murray-they guys I'd later learned, that I'd heard at the previous soirée talking behind the tree-were there. Hal was in evidence with his wife Florinda and Murray with his daughter Lindsay. As for Lindsay being his daughter, well maybe, but they were awfully cozy for a poppa and his baby. Well, he wasn't hitting on my wife, so for the moment he was safe.

It was getting to be time to be thinking about going home when she came up to me.

"So how we doin', sport," she said to me.

"Good, Carol, good," I said. I'd been watching Chloe dancing with her immediate boss, Elmer Peachtree.

"Have to say, I'm a little surprised to see you here tonight. Glad you came for sure, but surprised," said Carol. I looked her askance.

"Really? And why would that be," I said.

"Chloe and I are close. She told me what you two were going through. Well, maybe not all of it, but enough," said Carol Mrowicki.

"Really, I would have thought she'd have been more circumspect," I said. I was gauging miss Mrowicki's intent. It had not been but a couple of hours since I'd heard her exchange remarks with my wife while they were in the bathroom.

"She is, circumspect that is; I don't count as a blabee," she said. "She and I share almost everything. Yes, in the past, even those men. Of course, I'm single, so no biggee. Right? But, she's got you; and she's protecting herself there from now on, previous faux pas notwithstanding."

"Hmm, okay?" I said. I knew she was dying to get something out, but was trying to gauge my possible reaction. She was smiling.

"You ever cheat on Chloe?" she said. I gave her a sidelong glance that should have warned her off, but she decided to press on.

"No offense," she said. "It's just that sometimes it's easier to forgive and forget these kinds of spousal miscues when things are even up, if you know what I mean."

"I guess. I wouldn't know actually. First time I-we've-been in a situation like this," I said. "But, to answer your question, no I haven't cheated on Chloe. Okay?" I said. She nodded.

"On another note," she said, "how's your sex life since-well-since the last party?"

"Improved, I guess. But, what does that have to do with anything?" I said. She inclined her head to one side, paused, and then to the other.

I noticed, not for the first time that Carol was a very nice looking matron. Maybe ten years older than Chloe and I, but pretty, still pretty. It was a mystery to me why she was still single. I decided to be something of a boor and ask.

"You look very sexy tonight, Carol. Trolling?" She gave off a small laugh.

"We women, especially we single women, are always trolling," she said. "It's in the genes."

"Hmm, any luck?" I said.

"Not sure, been hitting on you for the past little while, and I'm still not sure, like I said." she said.

She stopped me with that one. I was temporarily speechless, not a common situation for me.

"Cat got your tongue, big guy?" she said. "You know, Chloie owes you one. Instead of putting her under lock and key, you should consider using her proclivities to your advantage. But, that's just me, and I'm sex crazed, so maybe not too objective in these matters." Now, I was the one to laugh.

"Yeah, right, like that's something that I would be into," I said.

"You never know," she said. "You never know."

******

"You talked to Carol for a long time," she said. I looked over at her as we drove.

"Well, she was company. I mean you were dancing with every male in the house for quite a bit," I said. Her look signaled alarm.

"John? I didn't do anything wrong, I mean?" I softened my look.

"No, no nothing wrong. But, anyway, that's why I was conversing with someone else. If you'd have been there, I would've been conversing with you," I said. She nodded.

"They just kept asking me to dance. Most of it wasn't even close dancing," she said.

"It's no problem. Don't worry about it," I said.

"Okay, good," she said.

******

"Wow!" said Melanie. "You do know how to get yourself into weird situations." It was two days later. We were again at my favorite hangout: The Gridiron.

"Seems, so," I said.

"You gonna do anything about it?" said Melanie.

"Hell no! What is it about you women, first Carol Mrowicki and now you?" I said. "I don't cheat, Mel, I don't. Frankly it's not even interesting as a fantasy as far as I'm concerned.

"Mel, what turns me on is 'my' woman, naked and made up and hot to trot. Not squirreling around trying to hump another woman for the sake of variety; and, certainly not to get revenge. Talk about non sequiturs, it does not follow that doing a wrong thing makes another wrong thing better, at least not as far as I'm concerned. My imagination, Mel, is not so limited that I have to resort to cheating to get excited. So, again, hell no!" I said. She laughed.

"My, you really are a straight arrow, aren't you, John," she said. "Well, if you end up in divorce court, give me a call."

"Right, as though a woman of your class would give a guy like me a tumble," I said.

"Don't sell yourself short, bub. You have character. Also you're a character. The combination is kinda interesting actually," she said.

"Yeah right," I said. She got up then, kissed me on the cheek, and left. She'd gotten me to thinking. Would a woman like her: professional, pretty, clearly a free spirit really have anything to do with a guy like me: a freakin' accountant? I snickered, to myself, but I did snicker. She'd probably give me a short term look see, but I was so in reality vanilla that it couldn't last. But-then-I maybe I could lose some of the vanilla. Right? Like she said, interesting.

******

I got the call at home. Melanie had a surprise for me. It seemed as the local bar association was having a party. They needed a caterer and a friend of mine had such a company and managed to get chosen. I'd recommended him.

Since his company only had a few employees; Ronnie, Ronnie Morris, had never done any big company dos. He only had but five employees. The upshot was that this would be his first big show.

This time I'd be the one inviting Chloe to the do. That was the condition that Melanie had laid on me. Ronnie's company would service the affair, and he insisted that I had to be a guest if I could work it. I told him that I could.

"Party? You want me to come?" she said.

"Yes, we're invited," I said. "There'll be some high end VIPs there I'm hoping to make the acquaintance of too."

"When is it?" she said.

"A week from Saturday. Why is something wrong?" I said.

"No, no. Sounds fine," she said. The words were the right ones, but she seemed tentative or something. Anyway, I made the call and confirmed.

"That's great," said Melanie. "We'll be looking for you guys."

Since the solving of our problems, the apparent solving, I still looked at things that way. Especially since my conversation with Carol Mrowicki.

******

"You gonna go?" he said.

"Got to. He'd look me askance for sure if I didn't," she said. "Hell, he'd be suspicious and somewhere between neurotic and insanely jealous if it comes to that."

"Isn't there some way you can avoid going? I mean don't you have a sale to make or something you could lean on?" said Charlie.

"I don't know. I mean there are several sales in the offing for which I could engineer a business meeting, a dinner meeting that could run late. But, to disappoint him like that? Not a good idea," said Chloe.

"You worry too much," he said. "We just have to be careful, and you have to be convincing when you tell him. Brush up on your acting skills. Come on, Chloe, our little get togethers are rare enough as it is."

"Okay," I guess you're right," she said. She nodded, but she clearly had misgivings.

******

"Huh?" I said.

"I just got the call, John. I am so sorry. It can't be helped. But, I know you've had the same thing happen to you before," said Chloe. "You go; your friend expects you, just don't be too late getting home. Okay?"

"Jesus! I mean I really wanted us to be together tonight. You know, kinda an opportunity for me to brag on yuh," I said, I was smiling big time, but she wasn't. She looked-pensive, thoughtful.

"Some influential folks are going to be at this one," I said. "People who know people who often have dos who might be persuaded to become clients."

She was conflicted; I could see that. I read it as her being really upset with herself for not being able to come with me. I felt kinda good about that. Good enough so as to reassure her.

"John I…"

"It's okay, honey girl; it's okay. Business is business," I said. I was smiling high and wide. She returned the favor.

"Thank you, my husband, you're the greatest," she said. "I'll be making it up to you. I promise."

"No problem. Next time, okay?" I said.

"For sure," she said.

******

The lay side by side, naked and exhausted. "Jesus, that was good," he said.

"Ditto that," she said. "I'm kinda glad the others couldn't make it tonight. It would have been exciting, I guess, but I would Have been a physical ruin when I got home from my 'business meeting'."

"Yeah, I guess that's so. I suppose the good news is that you won't have to risk tipping hubby to the reality?" said Charlie. "No problem with him, then. I mean about tonight; you coming here?"

"No, but I feel guilty as hell doing it to him. He really had his heart set on us going together. I mean it would have been boring, but, I do owe the guy. I mean he does pay the bills. And, he did mellow out after catching us the one time," said Chloe.

"No harm no foul. You'll be giving him his ration of sex tomorrow, right?" said Charlie.

"Like I have a choice? Hell, I'm going to do my best to actually enjoy it," she said. "Hard as that may actually be after you do me." She laughed. He smirked.

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

******

Ronnie's efforts did not go to waste. The party was a success. He had two new customers for the following month and they looked to be good sources for securing even more in the future. And, happily, so did I.

I heard the garage door opener engage: she was home.

"Hi, how was your meeting," I said, as she came in and dropped her briefcase onto the dinette table.

"Good, good, very good," she said. She looked tired, and something else. I went to kiss her, but she begged off.

It was then that I figured out what it was: the something else. Her smell! She smelled like Charlie. I was pretty sure that any business meeting she would have had, had not included Charlie, so the only conclusion to be drawn was that she hadn't been at a business meeting: she'd met up with Charlie and the gang. I decided to call her on it-sort of.

"So who was there?" I asked.

"Just three of us: Margaret Kusley and Gerald Wolf," she said.

"No one else?" I said.

"No, just the three of us. We talked long, ate big, drank bigger, and stayed late to talk some more," she said. Okay, I'd decided to call her on it directly. She'd clearly lied unless mister Wolf had the same bad taste in cologne as Charlie did.

"Really? Then why do you smell like Charlie, and why won't you kiss me? I mean really?" I said. She paled. Right then I knew. I lost my friendly demeanor.

"John…"

"You put me on the back burner so you could screw him; that about it and the others, Chloe?" I said.

She sank into the chair she was next to. She said nothing, but looked down: she clearly couldn't meet my eyes.

"John… " I just shook my head and headed up to bed it was almost 1:00AM. I'd fight the battle tomorrow. No use trying to do it now.

******

I rolled over on the bed; it was 6:00AM. My conscious mind began to come online. She'd never come up. I sighed. So, not with a bang, but with a whimper. I headed into the bathroom to perform my morning ritual. Minutes later, done and dressed, I headed downstairs. I could smell coffee brewing. I loved coffee, nothing like it!

She was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of java in front of her. It was still steaming.

We didn't speak as I headed for the cupboard to get a mug, then to the coffee pot for my morning transfusion.

Having gotten them, I took my seat across from her.

"So, what now?" she said.

"Divorce, I guess. You don't leave me much room to maneuver," I said.

"Okay, if that's what you want?" she said. I raised an eyebrow at that.

"Whatever," I said. I downed the coffee; it stung my throat. I got up and headed out. I was just tired of trying to get my woman to-well-be my woman. I'd headed out, but not to anyplace. I just got in my car and drove. I ended up at a local park. The trees and the pastoral-like environment appealed to me. My mood for whatever reason was mellow. It would change, I knew, but for moment it was mellow. I wondered what she was feeling? Was she mellow too? Did she really give a damn what I wanted, what was best for the two of us? I honestly didn't think so. I was pretty sure that she'd feel some empathy for me, but she wouldn't be losing all that much sleep because I was gone. Not even, she had her stud of the month; I was better off without her.

******

CHLOE:

Where was he? I know I should have fought harder to keep him in tow. If he doesn't come back within the first 48 hours; well then, I'd probably lost him. That's what they say about kidnap victims, right? How did I feel about that? I honestly didn't know. He was a good man. Pretty much useless in bed, but in every other way…"

I was going to miss him. Jesus! I hope he comes back. I need the sonovabitch!

The knock on the door to the apartment was startling.

"Charlie-Murray! What are you two doing here?" said Chloe.

"You're kidding, right?" said Charlie. "I mean after your call to me twenty-four minutes ago," he said, checking his watch.

"I called you to warn you. He knows, and he may be going to be making some calls. I just wanted you to have a heads up, you know, just in case," she said.

"We have to talk, plan, do something," said Murray. "We can't just let him ruin us."

"Not much we can do," said Chloe.

"The boys and I think you need to try one more time. I mean-well-to try and get him back. Anything to get him to not torpedo us," said Charlie. She looked at him coldly. Her brow was wrinkled, her eyes were wide open, her lips were slightly parted as if to indicate that she wanted to say something but forgot what it was.

"Get him back? One more time? Do anything?" she said. "Just what, big boy, do you think the chances are that I can get him to even be in the same room with me, let alone grant me an audience." Charlie looked about to say something, but she held up her hands to stop him.

"No, let me answer my own question-none-Zero-nada."

"Yes, we all understand that it won't be easy. And, maybe it can't be done, Chloe, but it's our only hope, our only chance. And we know what we're asking. We know that it will be tough for you on all levels," said Charlie.

"Ditto that for me, Chloe," said Murray. She seemed to sag back, as if to put distance between them intellectually and emotionally rather than mere inches of real estate. She had been looking either down or away as they spoke. Now, she looked them in the eyes.

"Difficult? Oh yeah, it's going to be difficult; and, it's probably a lost cause. But, that said, I'll try," she said. "But, hear me on this one. This one is for me: me and John. If he grants me any kind of mercy at all, I promise you, all of you, it will be the last you ever see of me.

"I'll do it, but I am going to quit my job first. Then, I'm going to get blind falling down drunk. Then I am going to try and see him. Well, and then the fates will decree what they will decree. Any questions, boys?" she said. The two men slowly shook their heads.

"Okay, then. The next time you hear from me it will be to hear one of two things: either that he went for it; or that he didn't." she spread her hands in a I'll-do-what-I-can gesture and then she was silent.

******

The party, kind of a follow uo to the one Melanie's firm had hosted the month before, was going full blast. Three hundred guests and Ronnie's crew was doing it all.

"Good job, John. Your suggestion to hire this group was a good one," said mister Miller, president and CEO of Miller and Blackstone enterprises.

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate the kind words. I'll let Ronnie know too," I said.

"I believe I can steer some business his way if he'd be interested," he said.

"I'm sure he will be doing just that," I said.

I was feeling good after mister Miller's little visit when I felt the tap on my right shoulder. I turned, and then, my stomach turned.

"Chloe!" I said.

"Yes, it's me," she said. "John, can you and I talk for a minute?" I hesitated.

I wanted to talk to her and I didn't want to. I was more than tired of the lies, more than tired of playing second fiddle to a bunch of serious losers, and I was more than tired of all of the verbal put downs of my sexual prowess. But, all such being true, and it was all true, I still loved my errant whore of a wife. I nodded.

I followed the woman off to the side where the shadows of an arbor's latticed roof offered us a smidgen of privacy and shade from the afternoon sun. I leaned back against a flower encrusted post-the flowers were artificial. I spread my hands in a get-on-with-it gesture.

"I guess you're wondering why I'm here," she said. "Oh, and a nice hotel this one."

"Right on all counts. What can I do for you Chloe. And indeed what are you doing here. Whatsamatter, Charlie and the boys busy tonight?" I said.

"Don't know about the Charlie and the boys, but I'm not busy. Well, except busy trying to talk to you," she said.

"Okay, I'm here, I'm listenin'," I said.

"I don't know what to say. I mean since you left-I…"

I watched her. She was doing her best to try and not blow this moment; I could see that. Did I want to help her out? I didn't know. I figured, she was here; she must have wanted me to do something or accept something or believe something.

"Again, what is it I can do for you, Chloe? You have what you want, I guess, with the boys. You've made it more than plain that what I've got doesn't measure up, not in any meaningful way, important way, sexual way, not according to what you told me," I said. "So whaddya want?

"Oh, and in case it matters, my stand on my woman being a one man woman-my woman-has not, nor ever will change."

"What you want, John more than matters. I guess what I want is to take back all of the things I said. I want to turn back the clock and have you back in my life and be-yes-my husband again and my only man. I want to undo the hurt that I put on you. I-well-I want to do and be what you want me to, John," she said.

Well, she'd said all of the right things. She said them. But, what she hadn't done and couldn't do was unsay all of the things she'd said before. Forgiving her would be easy. Getting back with her would be easy. But, forgetting what she'd said, her words? I knew for a fact she'd meant them when she'd said them, and how could I ever get around that. How could I ever get around the fact that no matter what I'd do or try that I could never please her. I decided to ask her that very thing.

"Chloe, I love you. And, ironically perhaps, I believe that you love me. But, both things being true, and I am more than persuaded that they are; how can I ever get around the fact, that no matter what I'd do or try to do, that I can never please you," I said. I watched as she began to wring her hands. She began to pace back and forth: two steps to the right; then, two steps to the left. She almost seemed to be lost in some kind of psychological black hole. She stopped pacing.

"John, since you left, I have done one helluva lot of soul searching. I have questioned my words, my needs, my attitudes, my actions-I mean with those men-all of it.

"All, I can say for sure, John, is that I was confused. I think I was confused. Self-serving? Yes. But, nevertheless, true. And, it may be that I still am; I'm not sure. But, I don't think I am," she said.

"So?" I said.

"So, I think I was wrong about you being only so-so as a lover. I think I was wrong about needing more than…"

"Yes, more than I could give you," I said. "And yes, it does sound self-serving." She had the decency to nod her understanding.

"I think that at the time that I thought it was true, John. I mean that you weren't-well-but…"

"But what," I said. "You saying it was true then but not now?" I said.

"No, not exactly. I'm saying that it wasn't true then and certainly not now," she said. She'd said she'd been confused. If asked, I would have had to admit to confusion as we stood across from each other at this moment. But, I hadn't exactly lost touch with reality-yet.

"Hmm. And, what, may I ask has brought you to these conclusions?' I said.

"You'll laugh," she said.

"Doubtful, but try me," I said.

"The other men. Since you left, I've had sex with them, you know, a few times; and none of them even come close to interesting me now, anymore, let alone satisfying me. All I can think about is you and how it used to be with us. You know before…"

"And, I'm supposed to believe this," I said.

"It's the truth," she said.

"Yeah, maybe. But, you'll pardon me if I point out the obvious fact that I'd heard other protestations of your love for me and your willingness to change that came to naught," I said.

"Of course, and I understand how you must be thinking. But, I would really really like for you to give me another chance," she said. I just stared at her.

"Another chance? You mean to be husband and wife and no other men getting into your pants," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"And you'd be absolutely thrilled with my bedroom skills from now on?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Chloe, do you have any idea how unlikely it seems to me that I could ever satisfy you in bed? I mean after you told me all of those times that I was pretty much worthless!" I said.

"John, in all fairness, I never said you were worthless in bed. I said things like you weren't, you know, quite up to the skill levels of some others, but I never said I didn't like what you did for me, quite the opposite if you're honest," she said. I was fidgeting; I was beginning to get angry; and yet…"

"Chloe, I have to get back to the party. I've got people, clients to attend to. I'll call you in a couple of days, and we'll see about talking some more. Would that be all right?" I said.

"Yes sir," she said. "I'll be waiting for your call. I really meant what I said here tonight, John. Please think things over. Okay?" I nodded, we said our goodbyes, and then she was gone.

******

"You sure this is the way you want to play it, John?" she said. "you've been burned twice already."

"Melanie, you said to give you a call, so I have. Am I sure of what I want to do? I think so. We did invest a lot into our relationship. I need to try. But, it's the last go 'round. If it works out, well, good. If not, well-good. I just know I have to try."

"Okay, big boy, so let it be written so let it be done," said Melanie. "Manfred Kuhl will be on it, and, whatever she does, we'll know about it straight away."

"He's good, right?" I said.

"The best PI in the state. Like I said, whatever there is to get; he'll get it," she said. I nodded. The die was cast.

******

"Are we on for tonight?" said Charlie.

"Yes, but I'm still skittish about bringing the boss' son into our group. Especially now that I actually seem to have a chance of getting my main man back," said Chloe. "He called me last night. He says we can talk, and his tone of voice was positive. So anyway…"

"I understand and all of the boys know too," said Charlie. "We won't upset the applecart. Frankly, I am more than grateful to you, and him too of course, for not sticking it to us by tipping off our wives."

"Yes, and you should be grateful. Anyway, okay then, but again; if John does come back we're all done after this last time. I won't be able to risk it after tonight; I mean if the news is good for me," she said.

"Got it," he said. "Oh, and Ritchie is joining us this time around for sure. Actually he's excited." She noticeably shivered.

"Damn, Charlie, that is so risky; and that on so many levels, I just don't know. The kid's only nineteen!" she said.

"Twenty," said Charlie. "And he's cool. And it'll be cool, Chloe. Don't sweat it." She slowly shook her head.

What was she doing? she thought. If John ever found out, her whole life would become a flaming ruin. And, yet she continued to risk it. Adding the Peachtree kid into the mix was certain to multiply the risk exponentially; she just knew it. Why was she doing it, really? Yes, the sex was primo. But, so what? It was like she kept telling John: sex was great three hours a week, but the other hundred-sixty-five hours was what the real marriage was all about; and for those vastly more important parts she needed a real man, a real husband; and, there was no doubt about it; John was the man. She laughed, if her man, her husband could only come to understand that great truth. But no, it was like Charlie kept saying: as far as the American male was concerned, sex was the big mambo, nothing else compared; and, she'd literally destroyed her man in trying to tell him the truth. Fuck! And we women were supposed to be so smart, she thought. Yeah, smart-not!

******

The house was dark except for forty watt bulb in the lamp on the end of the dresser nearest the bed; that, in the upstairs bedroom. Chloe had always considered sex with the boys something that was best suited for a shadowy environment and made sure it was always dimly lit.

The man didn't knock; he just came in. It wasn't a surprise to her; he'd called but moments before announcing his arrival.

She heard him as he climbed the wooden staircase. "Hello, girl," said Charlie, "the boys will be here shortly; they're coming in Bill's car." She tendered him a small smile. She was naked under the opaque, knee length, fuchsia slip she wore.

"Charlie. John is moving back in tomorrow. He called. Tonight is my slut's swan song," she said. "After tonight I'm a one man woman." The man just nodded indulgently; his skeptical sense of reality clearly visible in his expression.

He came to her and kissed her lightly, then more passionately as he melded his body to hers. Stepping back from her to gaze on her sensual curves, he was interrupted by a soft knocking on the front door downstairs.

"The boys, I'll answer it," he said.

She was already positioned on the bed when the five of them came in. "Well, who wants me first," she said. She was only half smiling. All of the newcomers began stripping, and that with a good deal of enthusiasm.

"Chloe, Let's let our new team member go first. Okay?" said Charlie. She could see the boy was anxious. He was the only one who still had anything on. But, as for that, it was only his skivvies. She could see he was shy. She nodded.

"Sure, he can be first. Do me good young man; I need it bad," she said. The boy was clearly uncomfortable. He approached the bed, but he was being tentative.

When he stopped just short of the bed, she rolled onto her side and spoke to him. "Ritchie?" said Chloe. "Is something wrong?"

"I-I… " The other four men were silent but they were not disinterested. "I've never done it before, not this," he said. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's all right, dude," said Murray. "It's even easier than riding a bicycle."

The others broke into a laugh, but it was the supportive kind of laugh, not the derisive kind.

"Come over here, lover, momma's going to educate you," said Chloe. He came to her and crawled up onto the bed. "Get on top of me. I'll help you stick it in; then, we'll take it from there."

He did as she said, and began to poke at her. "Stop. Here, let me guide it in, okay," she said.

He let her rub his dick up and down her slit and then, positioning him just right, she bucked up and into him and got the head of his cock lodged inside of her.

"Now, big boy, push in a little then pull out about half an inch and then push back in; then, push in and pull out slowly each time going a little deeper than the last. Okay?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he croaked. After a little bit he was buried to the hilt in her pussy.

"Just stay like that for a few seconds, okay," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. She took a few short breaths.

"Okay, now I want you to start screwing me. Back and forth, let's get a rhythm going, okay."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Oh, yes, that's good, just keep it up as long as you can. Screw me good. I need it."

She well knew he wasn't going to last, not this first time, but he'd get her again before the night was out. She was going to see to that. And, he didn't, last that is. Three minutes into his efforts he blew his load into her and collapsed on top of her.

"Oh my god!" he said. "I never…"

"You did good, Ritchie, very good. And, you'll get better, I'm sure," she said.

Over the course of the next while all of the men took turns fucking her. It was good, she would later allow; but, somehow, all she could think about was her John. This really was going to be her swan song, and this time Charlie would not be talking her out of it.

******

She heard the knock on the door and went to answer it. Opening it, she smiled at her man. "John, you do not have to knock this was, is, and always will be your house. Okay?" she said. He gave her a sheepish nod.

"Hungry?" she said.

"I could eat," I said. She smiled and led me to the kitchen. We talked while she threw together the bacon and eggs that I'd opted for. We talked about everything but 'the' thing. But, our silence on that little reality was about to end.

"So, have any of my would be replacements called you in the past few days," I said at last.

"John, none of those men were ever a threat to replace you, none of them. You have to believe me on that one. Yes, I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. And yes, I wanted to seduce you and bring you into the mix. But, never-and I mean never-was there going to be a time that if I'd had to choose that I would have chosen someone else, or, in terms of what we're talking about, someones plural. And John, I have chosen, and the choice is you. Those men have heard my swan song." What she didn't tell me, as I would later learn, was that her swan song was only hours old.

"Okay, Chloe, I hope so," said John.

******

It was two days after my return to our house and my reunion with my wife that I found myself drinking at the Gridiron. I was actually waiting for Chloe to show up and make my day. We were going to have a couple of drinks and maybe a couple of burgers too and then go dancing someplace after that.

It was noisy in the back. The kid making all the noise was maybe old enough to drink, I thought. He'd been haranguing a small group of his elders at a table in the back. I'd heard him order two rounds for his listeners so far, and they appeared rapt by his less than humble pronouncements.

"Bartender," he called out. "Drinks on the house." I raised my eyebrows at the call. Ray, my good bud of a barkeep, put the free drink chip on the counter in front of me and made the tour of the room doing the same for the rest of the customers. Done he returned, checked my pilsner glass to see if I was ready to utilize my chip and started to walk away. I stopped him.

"Hey, Ray, who is that kid?" I said.

"A newbie," he said. "Turned twenty-one yesterday. I guess he has some money, and he's decided to do a little partying. I'm keeping an eye on him. I won't let him get too deep into his purse, especially if he gets a little too far into his cups. I mean if you get my drift. Name's Peachtree" I raised another eyebrow at that. Had to be a member of the family of them as owned the company that Chloe worked for. Interesting.

I wondered what Chloe would have to say when she came in and saw somebody from her company carrying on like the boy was. Figured to be interesting. And, as if the gods were determined to see to it that I was right, she came in. She waved at me and headed in my direction.

"Hi honey," she said, and then a big noise rose from the table where all of the fun was happening. Her face turned gray and seemed to age almost instantaneously. It was as though she'd been caught in something for which she felt terribly guilty. It was just then he saw her. His hurrahing ceased, he stared at her.

"Chloe?" said the young man. He didn't seem to see me. I echoed him.

"Chloe?" I said. "You know that kid?"

"Uh-no-I-uh-no I don't think so. It's just…"

"Chloe, give it up. I know you're lying," I said.

"John, let's get out of here. We can talk in the car," she said. I nodded and started to get up and head for the register to pay. I stopped, looked over at the kid, looked at Chloe who had been leading me to the register.

Suddenly, I had an idea, and I headed for the kid's table.

"John, come on let's go," Chloe yelled after me. But I was already across from the kid. He'd evidently been drinking quite a lot. He was way past being able to dissemble.

"You know that woman over there?" I said.

"Yeah," he slurred. "I know her-knew her-uh-biblically 'bout a week ago," he said. "Great piece of ass too."

"Yeah? really?" I said. "Good fuck, huh?" I said.

"Sit down kid," said someone at his table. The kid ignored the guy.

"Yeah. But, her husband is kind of a stuffed shirt. A real dork according to her. Won't let her have any fun," said the kid. "Won't even let her fuck around." He started laughing hysterically.

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah, really," he said. "But great piece. We all thought so. All of us." I nodded and headed back toward my woman-she who used to be my woman.

"What did the kid say?" said Chloe as I came up to her.

"Said you were a great piece of ass," I said. She paled.

"He's drunk. I don't know him," she said.

"Hmm, interesting. His relatives own the company you work for," I said. "Oh, and he said all of the guys with him thought you were a great piece."

"John? Please?" she said. But I'd already thrown down a double sawbuck and was on my out and way from her. I had to get away from her and that very fast.

*******

We were sitting in the Gridiron. Almost the same seats that Chloe and I had sat in the day before.

"He said that? Sure he wasn't just some kid braggin'," said Melanie.

Át first, that is exactly what I thought-till I saw her eyes. Then I knew," I said. She nodded.

"So whaddya gonna do?" said Melanie.

"Divorce her. She can't help herself. And, I guess the same can be said of me. I can't help myself either. I simply cannot and will not share my woman," I said. She nodded.

"Mel?" I said.

"Yeah hon," she said.

"Make it as painless as possible for her, but get it done fast. Call her; ask her to come in rather than have her served. Okay?" I said.

"Sure bet," she said.

"Mel?"

"Yes?"

"We need to talk, you and I," I said.

"Name the time and place," she said.

"Now. Here," I said. She smiled.

"I always say no time like the present. Seems like you and I think a lot alike," she said.

I signaled Ray to freshen the drinks, martinis, beer wasn't cuttin' it today. They, the drinks, were on the table in a trice. I nodded my thanks to Ray. Things seemed to be going good for me today; they were just little things, but sometimes the little stuff, the mundane stuff were important too.

"Mel-I've been thinking about… " I started.

"John, I know I said name the time and the place, but thinking about it-now-well, I know what you're going to say. I feel the same way. But-until you are actually single…"

"Okay," I said. "But, when I am?"

"Then, we talk seriously about serious things. I just don't want to get burned, and, in my experience it happens more often than not.

"I'm a lawyer, John. I've seen a lot of bad stuff, a lot of illogical nonsense that nobody, and by that I mean not even lawyers and psychologists, could believe. But, all of that said, if you were single. And if you still thought the same way; well, that would be a whole different ballgame. Okay?" She said.

"For sure," I said.

"I'll be getting in touch with you tomorrow. You need to look at the papers I'm going to draw up. I know how to go about these kinds of things, and I will do my best for you, and for her too. I know what kind of man you are, and I promise I will not be running a scorched earth campaign. It's going to be simple, fast, and fair," she said. I nodded: the game was afoot.

"One thing, Mel," I said.

"Yes," I am not sitting still for all of those men to get off easier than me. Serve them too," I said. She raised an eyebrow at that.

"John, how about this. Rather than serve their cheating asses, with all of the legal folderol that goes with it, we just alert their wives and girlfriends. Manfred has gathered some stuff that I was going to lay on you tomorrow, but since you've already found out it's a little bit passé now; still, that said, we could just send copies of some of the stuff to the women of the players and let the chips fall where they may," she said. I looked her askance.

"Okay, yeah-yeah," I said, "that would be good. Make it happen. That would be good." Now I was smiling. Good 'ole Charlie and the boys would be dancing around like cats on a hot tin roof. I sure would like to be a fly on the wall in some of those guys' houses. Oh yeah, it was going to be real interesting.

******

The clock in the kitchen, where I was employing my microwave to toast me a frozen burrito, read 9:13PM. The phone began ringing just as the "done" buzzer went off.

"Hello?" I said.

"You mother fucking scuzbag! You've ruined my marriage. My twenty year marriage! You will definitely pay for this one; trust me," said a voice that sounded a lot like Charlie Cowan's.

"Really? And what should happen to you for ruining mine," I said. But the line was dead; he'd hung up on me. I shrugged at the phone and went back to my late night snack of Mexican cuisine.

My phone, my cell is all I had with me in my new digs at the Castle Lodge, and it was unlisted. If Charlie called me on it, Chloe had to have been the one to give him the number. That I hadn't heard from any of the rest of Charlie's gang indicated that they likely hadn't been so privileged of her; or, if they had, their wives had made it a moot point by killing them. The thought amused me. But, then I got the call that did not amuse me.

"John," she said, as I answered her call.

"Yeah, it's me," I said. "I notice you've given my number to your playmate. He called just a little while ago."

"Yes, I know. But, I didn't give him your number. He took it off my cell without my knowledge; well, I found out later, actually.

"John, I'm sorry. After we talked; Charlie pinned me. He wanted one last night with me: him and the boys. Since you hadn't made up your mind-well I figured one more time… " she said.

"Yeah, your swan song," I said. "It was one last aria too many, Chloe. We're done. I suppose at some point you and I will need to be talking. But, we're done as far as our marriage is concerned.

"You can tell the gang that the gangbangs are back on. I mean if you haven't already," I said.

"John, all I can say is I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, and that's a true fact," she said.

I noted that she hadn't said anything about my statement regarding her gangbangs. I had to assume she was already looking forward to them. But, what the hell, for all intents and purposes she was single again. I sure as hell was, and Melanie and I would soon be having that serious talk we'd promised each other.

"John, please don't make this any worse than you already have. I know you've sent stuff to their wives. I've been on the phone all day… " she said.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want them being any happier than they've made me, so maybe you can understand where I'm coming from," I said. She was silent for a moment.

"John, I…"

"Never mind, Chloe. Those men if they didn't despise me before; well, they're going to be hating me now. Anyway, I have to go. We'll talk," I said.

******

I'd never been to her office before; it was a revelation. "Nice," I said.

"I like it. Figured, that if I was going to work for somebody else, I at least wanted a decent office out of the deal," she said.

"Yeah, well, you sure seem to have gotten your wish," I said. And, she had. The whole office seemed to be made out of wood. The desk was of oak. The walls were of redwood and tastefully decorated. I was sitting in a brown leather chair that seemed more like a throne.

"Hmm, well, yeah; and my clients are usually more than impressed too," said Melanie: she wasn't smiling. "Anyway, John, she did come in and she did sign."

"No hiccups?" I said.

"No, not really. She just asked that you lay off the men from now on. I told her that I thought you likely would but that I couldn't guarantee it, especially if any of them tried to cause you more trouble than they already have," said Melanie.

"Yeah, I'm done doing it to them; unless, like you say, they try to cause me anymore grief. You told her right," I said.

"She did ask for a sit down with you. I said I'd mention it, and I just have," said Melanie. "You want me to set it up?"

I thought for a moment. "Yes. I suppose so. The final curtain as one might be tempted to say," I said. She smiled.

"Yes, indeed," she said, "the final curtain on act-one of your married life. Okay, then, I'll let you know."

We talked for a few more minutes; then, she headed out to a court appearance that she had on her schedule.

******

I was seated at what had become my favorite table at the Gridiron; I was on my second beer. I'd expected her to be on time. For my part I'd come in early. And, as expected, she was, on time that is. What wasn't expected was her entourage. They were all there: Charlie Cowan, Hal Winetraub, Murray Dornan, Bill Owens, and Ritchie Peachtree-which last looked like a high schooler.

I leaned back in my seat as they pulled up a couple of more chairs: the table was designed for four only, and we were seven altogether.

I had to smile. "Sandbagging me, Chloe?" I said. Actually, I was pretty sure she wasn't, but I'd had to say it.

"For God's sake, John! No! But, what I am doing is making sure we're all on the same page and that there will be no more hard feelings when we leave here. Well, that's my hope anyway. The boys won't be here long; this one is really for you and me. And, I think you had to hear a couple of things from them-candid things if that's the right way to say it. Plus if you want to ask any questions. Well, you deserve to have them answered; I mean if you do have questions," she said. I nodded.

"Okay, Yeah, I do have a couple of questions. They all nodded their willingness for me to continue; all except the kid. It was clear he didn't know what to do.

"Well, Murray, why did you do it? I mean join this gang of adulterers," I said. He smirked.

"The obvious, she's pretty and sexy and forbidden. It was a turn on. If I may, I feel bad that it, what we did, wrecked your marriage. But, I paid; you've wrecked mine. I deserved it, and I won't kid you; as hypocritical as it may be, I'm bitter towards you about it. And, the only reason I'm here is to do what I can to make sure you don't do me worse than you already have. Anyway, all of that said, I am sorry for everything," he said.

"Bill?" I said. He gave me a look; it was cold.

"I ditto most of what Murray said. But…"

"But?" I said.

"I wanted to marry her. Hell, I still do," he said. He looked over to where Chloe was sitting. Her mouth was hanging open. "I'd be good for you Chloe. Really."

"Hmm, budding love: how simply wonderful," I said. "Hal?"

"Same as Murray, especially about the bitter part. I still love my wife even though she's dumping my cheating ass. Okay, well, I deserve it. She was always too good for me," he said.

"Charlie?" I said.

The excitement of it all. I loved it, all of it. The gangbangs became my forte. Frankly, and I won't kid you, the sex was fantastic," he said. "You shoulda joined us as far as I'm concerned." He was smirking but it was a sardonic smirk.

"That was never going to happen," I said. "And how about you, boy?" I said, looking straight at little Ritchie.

"I'm sorry, mister," he said. "But, well, I was new to this stuff; it sounded exciting. So I did it." I nodded.

"So, are we more or less square, now?" said Charlie.

"Square? We'll never be completely square. But, I will lay off anything else I might have planned to do; that is, so long as I have no more grief from any of you. That's about the size of it," I said. They all nodded.

"Now for you and me, my dear," I said. That appeared to be the signal for the boys to cut country. There was a bustle of noise as chairs got put back and the boys all filed out. Chloe and I were left staring at each other.

She didn't wait for me to say anything. "It was the sex, John. Always the sex. It still is. As good as you were in a hundred other things…"

"Yeah, I know. I come up short in the biggee," I said. "Well, at least as far as you're concerned." She raised an eyebrow at that.

"You have someone else already?" she said, fishing for news.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes; I think so," I said.

"I gather by the way you're saying it that you satisfy her," said Chloe. "I'm glad. And for the record, as I think I've said in the past, you really weren't all that bad-even as far as I was concerned, as you put it. It's just, well…"

"I get it Chloe. You didn't absolutely hate having sex with me; it just wasn't enough for you. Probably not enough even in the beginning all of those years ago. Right? I gotta tell yuh, you saying that to me hurt me worse than anything. I remember some words of Oscar Wilde that fit the occasion, Chloe.

Some men (or women) kill the thing they love;

The coward does it with a kiss;

The brave man (or woman) with a sword.

"I would have appreciated you stabbing me in the front, Chloe, rather than in the back, then justifying doing it to me because I was no good in bed. Well, you can imagine how I felt and continue to feel, Chloe," I said.

"John, if anything in all of the things I've said to you are true; this is: I still love you, and I'm sorry for hurting you, and that in so many ways," she said. She began to tear up.

"Well, you can take it from me that I'm sorry you hurt me too. And, trust me, that is more than the truth in every sense of the word.

We talked a little more. She did tell me in so many words, that yes, she intended to keep on with her sexcapades in the future. Her telling me was, as she put it, to make sure that I knew that there would be no more lies; well, fucking wonderful. As for the list of men she'd be doing it with-well-that might change, as she also said, such given the experience that the current cadre have so far endured at my hands.

Melanie and I are planning our future together. We will be married as soon as the ink is dry on the final divorce papers. That'll be two more months. The past several months have been blee-bloody fantastic. Well, sometimes a body gets lucky.

-----------------------------

   Series:Kendra and Scott Nelson
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She needed him for his steadiness, but he was just too boring.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/75598/kendra-and-scott-nelson
Published:2014-01-08
"Okay, he's gone, satisfied?" she said.

"Yeah, sorry for interrupting you two. But satisfied? You mean satisfied that he is no longer doing you in our front room in the middle of the day? You mean satisfied because of that?" I said. "I mean how could I not be satisfied. I mean I did stop you from cheating on me-for the moment."

"You're over reacting, Scott. So, Humphrey fucked me. We didn't do it in our bed, yours and mine. And, it's wasn't cheating on you, not to my mind," said Kendra Nelson, nee Fairchild, my wife and love for the past sixteen years.

"Overreacting? How do you figure?" I said, and that not unreasonably. She sighed.

"It's only cheating if the stud of the moment has some hope, however vague, of replacing the husband of the moment. Humphrey Westmoreland has no such hope, not even," she said. He fills a need that you don't. Sorry, Scott, but you're boring! And, I wouldn't be surprised if I bore you! It's nature I guess. We've been married a long time; boring is part of the equation.

"Boring am I? Oh and, I must say that you are more than creative in your definition of cheating. I do believe that if we looked it up in the dictionary that we'd discover that the accepted definition is a helluva lot different than yours, my love," I said.

"And that's exactly it, Scott, I am your love-not his. Not ever his, believe it," she said. "You and I will grow old together as we should. Faithful to a fault in the real definition of the term."

"And, if I take exception to your definition of things? Well, what does that mean for us?" I said. She went pensive on me.

"I guess it means that you will have to leave," she said. She'd surprised me, stunned me, stopped me; but, only for the moment.

"Am I hearing you right? You plan to divorce me if I don't accept Humphrey and you getting it on? Is that really what you're saying," I said.

"No, no, no, no, I'm not saying that at all. Divorce would have to be your choice; I will never opt for a divorce if it's up to me. I'm just saying that unless you are okay with me; well, playing with Humphrey on the side, that you cannot stay here in the house until you 'are' okay with it. I can be very patient with you on this, Scott; but I will not allow you to stay here and be a wet blanket on everything and everyone that comes around," she said, "you'll have to shack up somewhere else until you get your head on straight." I almost laughed, but not quite, not yet.

"Let me get this straight. One: you plan to continue fucking him whether I like it or not because I'm boring? Two: you're kicking me out-if you can-if I do not agree to like it? That about the size of things?" I said.

Yes, more or less," she said, "pretty much. The house was my parents; it belongs to me, not us. So never doubt that I can get your jealous butt booted, at least for the short term. And, I say the short term because I know, that as time wound on, you'd come to your senses and realize that me doing Humphrey would be a good thing for you as well as for him and me."

"Really. Well, let me ask you. What if I decide to get me a little strange on the side? I mean accept your little dalliance and require you to do the same? How about that!" I said.

"Do it!" she said, without hesitation.

"Yeah, you say that because you know I never would. Right?" I said. She snickered.

"You still haven't lost all of your hair, your looks either. Just do it. I can't very well object to you playing if I'm doing it," she said. My turn to snicker. I knew she was the draw not me. I might be able to find me a woman whom I didn't actually turn off, but it would be a lot harder for me than for her, and she knew it would be harder for me. But, even given all of that, I wouldn't do it anyway. It wasn't right.

"Hmm, and what about Marylou?" I said. I was playing my hole card. Marylou was our eighteen year-old daughter, now a senior at Central High. My wife's whoring around was not going to sit well with her. Of that, I was certain to an absolute degree. My wife snickered.

"Marylou already knows. She caught me and Humphrey months ago," said Kendra. My mood darkened.

"What did you say?" I said. My tone now bespoke shock and disbelief.

"Oh, don't get your panties all in a wad about Marylou. Yes, she knows, but she made me promise not to hurt you or rub your nose in what I was doing with him. So you see, she loves you enough to want to protect you. That should make you feel good. Right, I mean about her?" she said.

"Well, even if you're not lying in your teeth, you seem to have broken your agreement with her. I mean I am hurt, and you are rubbing my nose in it even now," I said.

"No I'm not, well, not on purpose. I guess I have to admit to hurting you. You really didn't need this-mess," she said. I ignored her more than flawed logic.

"Marylou will be staying with me. I mean after I talk to her and find out just how big a liar you are?" I said. Her turn to have her mood darken: I'd shaken her.

"I'm not lying, and you are over reacting. And, there won't be any custody issue, because she's a technical adult; and, also because we are not going to be divorcing, unless you are even dumber than I was doing Humphrey here in the house today. First time by the way, and I promise you it's the last time. Dumb-dumb-dumb on my part," said Kendra.

"Not dumb, dear, arrogant and contemptuous of me is all," I said

"No! I never held you in contempt. Surely you can grant me that much, Scott," she said.

"I'm not granting you anything, but it doesn't matter. But anyway, now we at least understand each other, dear soon to be ex-wife. Get this. I am filing for divorce. I will be asking Marylou to stay with me until she heads off to state; unless that is, she opts to live with her whore of a mother instead. If that turns out to be the case neither one of you will ever see me again. I hope I'm not being vague here; I really do not want to be vague or misunderstood," I said.

"Jesus! Scott, did I say you were overreacting! I should have said that you're fucking crazy!" said Kendra.

"No-no-no, dear, you're the one that been fucking-Humphrey that is. And crazy? Maybe I am; I did marry you didn't I.

"I should have suspected it, your cheating on me. That especially given the way you've neglected me over these past weeks. I mean how long has it been for me and you, a month maybe, month and half?" I said. She looked surprised.

"Really? It's been that long. Well, I will remedy that immediately if you will allow. My bad," she said.

"Great, a mercy fuck for me, your husband. Forget it skank. I have no use for you anymore. Too bad too, you were a good wife while it lasted, the marriage that is. Well, that is I had thought you were a good wife. I guess I thought wrong. So fuck you, fuck him, and fuck anyone else who thinks that what you're doing is okay," I said.

My implication was not lost on my wife. If my daughter was actually okay with what my personal whore was doing; she was history. Yes, even my daughter. Yes, I would write off even my daughter if she was so much as tacitly okay with what her mother was doing to me. Because what her mother was doing and demanding, was utterly beyond the pale as far as I was concerned.

"Now wait a minute, Scott! You're not thinking of going off on Marylou are you? She's still a kid in high school. She doesn't have the experience to know how to make judgments or really think logically," said Kendra.

"Go off on her? Heavens no! But, she better not be okay with you cheating on me," I said. "That, I will not accept on any level."

"Jesus I wish Hump and I hadn't decided to do it here today!" she said.

"Yeah, sorry you got caught, but not sorry you did it. Not sorry you've neglected me. Not sorry you've gotten my daughter-if you're not lying-to back you in whoring around on me. You are a trip for damn sure, Kendra," I said.

We both turned when we heard the back door open and close. Marylou Nelson was home.

"Hi mom, hi dad," she said, tossing her backpack onto the couch.

"Hi honey," said her mom. I tendered her a wan smile. She picked up on the wanness.

"Dad? Something wrong?" said Marylou. I guess I was pretty transparent.

"Don't know. We need to talk you and I, but it can wait till after dinner," I said. I needed time to get my thinking straight, hence, the delay.

"Dad?" she said, concern in her tone.

"After dinner. Should be no problem the way I see things. Okay?" I said. She nodded, but it was a tentative nod.

******

Dinner and dishes done, I headed for the front room. Marylou followed me without my having to ask. Kendra hung back in the kitchen busying herself for the moment with who knew what.

"Dad?" said Marylou. I motioned her to sit though I remained standing.

"Just a few questions, dear heart. Okay?" I said.

"Okay," she said. Kendra had come in but just leaned against the kitchen entranceway jamb to monitor things.

"Did you know that your mother had a lover and kept that knowledge from me deliberately?" I said. She took on a stricken look.

"Kinda," she said.

"Next question: do you approve of her adultery?" I said.

"Not exactly, no, but mom explained that what she was doing was not really adultery, cheating," she said. I nodded.

"Okay, final question. Your mom and I will be getting a divorce. Who would you rather live with, her and her lover, or me?" I said. I was smiling as though I had already won the race, but the truth was I was terrified that I would lose it.

"Huh? I-I-I don't want you to get a divorce!" said Marylou.

"Your mother gives me no choice. She says she intends to keep fucking her asshole lover whether I like it or not; she says I'm boring. And, that at the least until and unless I can bring myself to agree to tolerate her adultery that I have to move out: so, a divorce is going to happen. So, which is it: her and her asshole or me" I said.

"No!" screamed Marylou. "Can't you just ignore her and mister Westmoreland? He isn't around much. Please dad?

"Dad, couples lose interest in sex, in doing it with each other after many years. As young as I am even I know that. Mom is just playing a little that's all. She told me," said Marylou.

"Not around 'much'?" I said. "Thought today was the first time, Kendra." My wife had the decency to look away. "Lose interest in doing it with each other? Who's this we you're talking about?"

"Dad!" she said. I waved her off.

"I guess I have my answer. You win Kendra. I'll be gone shortly," I said. The bitterness in my heart and soul had to be clearly apparent to the both of them.

"What! You can't mean… " started my wife.

"Daddy, you need to listen to mom. She loves you not that other guy!" said Marylou. "Hump-mister Westmoreland-isn't trying to take your place. And, even if he were, mom would never let him. Really dad!"

"Hump is it, Marylou? I snorted.

"But no, she doesn't me of that I am sure. She loves him; I'm just the one paying the bills, but no more. She and I are done, and so are you and I," I said.

"Daddy!"

And yes, dear reader, I know I was being cruel on some level. But so were they and them the more so.

My daughter ran upstairs. My wife and I heard her slam the door.

"You could have been a little less cruel," said my wife. "She's your daughter."

"The way I see it you're the cruel one. You and good 'ole Humphrey are the ones who have destroyed this family, and, my relationship with my daughter. I hope that someday you realize just how badly you've chosen-her too," I said, nodding toward the stairs.

"Oh! You are so stubborn," she said.

"Stubborn? No, but utterly intolerant of what you are doing. And, in case it matters, I am hurt and jealous and filled with hate and bitterness. Have a bad life all of you," I said. Then, I headed upstairs to get my things. I was packed and on my way downstairs in half an hour.

As I packed, Kendra had kept up an almost ceaseless barrage of ill-conceived arguments, railing at me to calm down and rethink my decision to leave. She even threw in promises of primo sex to be delivered immediately and with gusto if I'd cave-have to admit that last was tempting. Her efforts in that respect precipitated a case of the raging hornies in my pants, but I was determined to never touch her again regardless of how everything played out in the weeks and months ahead. And yes, friends, I was on the verge of breaking down, big fucking surprise.

******

I was gone and settled into the Rockville Lodge within an hour of having left the pair of them. Kendra's parting shot was that she would ruin me if I dared opt for a divorce. And, that was the rub.

I had adamantly held that I would be divorcing her. But, did I really want to go that route and get financially raped in the doing of it. I decided to do nothing for the present. If I met someone that I wanted to spend my life with, it might be a different story, but in the near term inaction was going to be my modus operandi. And, that regardless of the message it was likely to send to the two women now formerly in my life.

******

I guess I need to digress for a moment. Who the heck are we exactly, the Nelsons? Well, as to that the following might be of some utility.

Me: Scott Nelson, thirty-eight, five-eight, one-forty-five, auto mechanic, not terrible looking for a slightly balding, slightly paunchy ex-jock (track and field).

My wife: also thirty-eight, five-seven, one-twenty, housewife, very pretty dark haired ex-cheerleader with a bubble butt and really sensational B-cups.

Marylou: 18, pretty, popular, still growing in womanly terms but looking to be a mirror image of her mom. And was-and still was-the apple of my eye; that in spite of her, as I saw it, betrayal of me. I'd be a long time getting by that one if I ever could.

******

She kept checking her watch, and then her cell phone every two minutes as though she were waiting for delivery of her lottery winnings. She took another sip of her martini and sighed.

"How's it going Kendra," said the barkeep, coming up to her as she waited.

"Okay," she said. He, was a pro, was Calvin Wicks, head barkeep at the Clarendon Inn. He knew when to gab and when to shut up. He didn't retort that it was clear that everything with my wife was not okay. Instead he ambled off down the bar in response to a couple of raised beer mugs.

She started as another woman plopped down on the stool beside her own. "Connie! Jesus, you startled me," said Kendra.

"Sorry. Anyway, what's up. You sounded stressed out when you called," said Connie Dunn, age 36, pretty, short, and best friend of her current companion.

"Yeah, well, I am I guess," said Kendra.

"Okay?" said Connie.

"Scott caught me and Hump, and he's moved out," said Kendra.

"Oh shit. I told you doing it at your place would be a mistake. When did all of this happen?" said Connie.

"Yesterday. I don't know what I'm going to do. If he doesn't pay the bills, we'll lose the house," said Kendra.

"He'll pay 'em; it's in his best interest," said Connie.

"I don't know; he's pretty mad. I called Hump earlier, and he has offered to move in and pick up the slack if Scott doesn't return by week's end. He, Hump, does make more than does Scott, quite a bit more, but will he want to be payin' long haul. I mean will he want to keep our relationship going if he has to pay the freight for any serious length of time?

"He's not as steady or as trustworthy long haul as Scott is. It's just that Scott and I have gotten to the doldrums state of things sexually among other things. I need the variety. But now…

"What should I do Connie? I mean it'd be bad if Scott were to return and find Hump moved in. And, then there's Marylou. She and Hump get along okay; she likes him well enough, but she is kinda on the fence because of me cheating on her dad."

"I see," said Connie.

"But well, she's young, and I was able to convince her that her dad wasn't losing anything and that me doing Hump was just meaningless recreation. I got lucky with that one. She essentially even told her dad that it was no big deal. But of course, Scott was not having any of that. He's written her off too," said Kendra.

"Oh my," said Connie

"Yes, Oh my for sure," said Kendra.

"Girl, you've got to get hubby and daughter back on speaking terms. If you can do that, you might be able to claim the role of good guy and get mister straight arrow to forgive and forget. But, ten to one, good 'ole Humphrey's gonna have to end up as collateral damage in this little tableau," said Connie.

"You know, I see what you're saying, and I think you may be right," said Kendra, "But I really don't want to lose Hump either," said Kendra.

"You may not have a choice, or, better said, you may have to make a choice.

"You should wait a little bit though. Give Scott a chance to cool off. Also, maybe if he gets horny enough, that might be another chip you could play," said Connie. Her companera smiled.

"Yes, actually that was one thought that I had already. The one thing I am sure of is that it won't be too long before his dick starts doing his thinking for him. He is a horny little toad.

"Okay, I will be doing a bunch of thinking on what you've said," said Kendra.

"Yes, do. I'd hate to see you two busted up. You've always been good together in spite of you always needing to play around on the side.

"Oh, and again, you might want to wait a while longer than the end of the week before you let Humpty move in with you, a month or two at the least. And, if Scott does pay the bills while he's out there amongst 'em, Hump shouldn't be moved in at all, if you get my meaning," said Connie.

******

"I don't know what to do Jacob. I need my dad, but he hates me," said Marylou.

The boy laughed. "Look, Marylou, you're what, eighteen. I'm just nineteen. We're kids, at least to them, the adults. Heck you're still in high school. Look, the one thing I'm sure of is that your dad, really both our sets of parents, love us. Your dad will come around," he said.

She lazily played with his dick as it stuck out of his pants.

"You gonna do something with that or not," said Jacob. She smiled.

"You betcha," she said, She began to stroke him furiously. The spray painted the back seat of the ten year old Ford; some of the sticky white stuff even hit on the rear window.

He relaxed as she wiped his cock clean with the hand towel she'd brought with her.

She'd learned early on that her Jacob, her high school boyfriend, who was now a freshman at state, expected a handjob every time they went out. The towel was always with her anymore. She'd been more than happy to accommodate his need. That said, while she'd beat him off regularly, and while he'd been allowed to feel her up as much as he wanted; he had never gotten into her pants or seen her naked, not even her breasts; and he'd asked.

"We gotta go," she said as she zipped up his pants for him. He nodded and started the engine.

He was turning on to her street when he gave her an idea.

"What you need to do is to tell your dad that you need him. Let him know that he's the man not that Humphrey guy your mom is playing with," said Jacob.

"Yes, but how to do that. He won't talk to me?" she said.

"Yes, he will. Or, maybe you could get someone else to tell him how you feel. I mean if you want I'd do it for you," he said. She gave him a look.

You?" she said.

"I can do it. I mean if you want," he said. She snickered, but then she didn't; she looked serious.

"I'll think about it," she said. And, she did.

******

"Yes, he left, and he's really upset. It's going to be a while before he's in a mood to even talk to me let alone return to our bed-his and mine," said Kendra.

"Jesus! How are you going to get on if he does divorce you?" said Humphrey Westmoreland.

"You get to move in and pay the bills for the foreseeable future," she said. He sighed.

"Okay, no problem. I can do that," he said.

"But, you will have to be picking up expenses right away when you do. Would that be all right?" she said. "You will be getting a lot more pussy than before though."

"Any chance of getting a little of that right now?" he said.

"Why I do think that I just might be able to accommodate you," she said. "Why don't you come over her and undress me."

He moved to her and let his hands wander down the length of her arms. He gently cupped her breasts and felt his interest grow exponentially in his pants. His eight-inch heat-seeking moisture missile was harder than steel.

He kissed her while at the same time unzipping her dress letting it fall to the floor. He unhooked her bra slipping it from her shoulder and letting it join her dress at her feet.

He left her panties alone for the moment while stripping himself naked with as little ceremony as possible. He knelt in front of her and sniffed her femaleness through her panties. God, she was a sexy woman, he thought. Her husband had to be nuts leaving her regardless of her playing around on him.

He peeled her panties down and off. Her bald and beautiful mound and its intoxicating slit at eye-level in front of him. He kissed it. He licked and sucked on it. She mooed her feelings as he worked her to her first orgasm, small though the first one was.

He pulled her down on the floor beside him. Pushing his knee between her legs he spread her wide enough to mount her. He slid into her easily. He began screwing her slowly. He wanted to enjoy the incredible feeling that this woman's body was capable of delivering.

"Get with it, big boy," she said. "I need to cum too. Okay!" she said. He began to speed up. Drilling her for all he was worth. It took him some minutes, but she finally began to buck and growl and blow bubbles from her mouth, sputtering and muttering and "cuuummmiiinnnggg!"

He stiffened as the death throes of his own orgasm gave way to indescribable relief. He rolled off of her and lay panting and gasping for breath.

"You made it," he said. It was not a question.

"Yes, finally," she said. "I needed that, especially after what my erstwhile hubby did to me the other night. I mean leaving me and Marylou high and dry like that"

"So, Marylou will be staying with us," he said, "not him, I mean if and when I do move in."

"Yes, he kinda dumped her when she wouldn't condemn me for having you on the side. The kid doesn't know what hit her, not yet at any rate," she said.

"She will," he said.

"Yes, and it won't be pretty, not for him and not for her either," she said. He nodded.

******

The Rockville Lodge was cheap, close to work, and had the added benefit of being next door to the Wild Horse Bar and Grill. The bar part was especially of interest to me under the circumstances. I needed to drink, I needed to drink a lot.

My daughter's siding with her mother, and more, expecting me at the least to deal with it by ignoring it, had hurt me bad, really bad. Now, I was alone. No family, no girlfriend, birth family a state ways geographically: yeah, I was alone all right. I went to work every day, claimed my seat at the Wild Horse every night, and slept. Except for eating that was pretty much my entire life at the moment. I wondered how Kendra was going to view me not divorcing her immediately as I had pretty much intimated that I would. Probably thought that I might be opting to follow her dictum, that I had to leave but just until I got my head on straight about her screwing mister Westmoreland. That she would have been wrong to so believe or think notwithstanding, I was going to be totally absent regardless and unreachable by her if indeed she even made the effort to try and contact me.

I was of the opinion, unexpressed it is true, that at some point she would be coming to me to pay the bills. That is, if she didn't go the divorce route herself and get the courts involved in that little ditty.

And Marylou, my daughter? I would speak to her if she came to me, but she would have to abandon her mother as she had essentially abandoned me if she expected a positive-for her-result. I would not be my wife's willing cuckold under any circumstances.

And then, it was six months after the split; and, I did get the visit. But that from neither Marylou nor her mother. No indeed, I got it from mister Westmoreland.

It was Saturday Morning. I did have to go to work. I was subbing for Grant Shuler my partner in crime at the shop. He'd gotten married the week before to one Carrie Snodgrass, and wanted to do the honeymoon thing if it was all right with me. It was.

The knock on the apartment door, as I got ready for work, caught me mid-bite into my toast and cream cheese. I got up to answer it, the knock.

"Yes?" I said, to the well-built, dark-haired, and tallish man staring down at me.

"Mister Nelson?" he said.

"Yes," I said.

"I'm Humphrey Westmoreland," he said. I slammed the door in his face.

He knocked again, paused, knocked again. I opened the door once more.

"Get away from here asshole. I have nothing to say to you," I said.

"Your daughter sent me, not your wife," he said. He'd stopped me with that one.

"My daughter?" I said. "Tell her to come her herself if she wants to talk."

"Look, give me a couple of minutes of your time, and I will be outta your hair. Please," he said.

It'd been months since my leaving, and I did have to admit to a degree curiosity if nothing else.

I didn't respond to his request, but I did head back inside leaving the front door open. He followed me in closing the door behind him. I took a seat at the little utility table the lodge afforded and nodded toward the seat across from me for him to sit. He did.

"I guess you hate me," he said.

"Yep," I said. He nodded.

"I understand," he said.

"No you don't. If you did, you wouldn't be fucking my wife," I said.

"Mister Nelson, Yes, your wife and I do have a thing going, but it's not love nor is it likely to ever be. I guess you could say we're friends with benefits who never do anything together but the deed. We never go out, in the sense of just having fun, like dancing or bowling or whatever; all we do is, well, fuck," he said. I'm just recreation," he said.

"Get to it, Westmoreland, what are you here for? You mentioned my daughter." I said.

"Mister Nelson, Marylou, misses you. She has cried every night since you left. Your wife and I are hoping you'd be willing to mend your fences with her. Kendra, your wife, wants you to come back to the house. I've been staying there these past three months paying the bills that you should be paying, I understand your anger and your reasons for doing what you're doing. But, frankly sir, you have no right to treat your daughter as if she didn't exist. She's still just a kid. And, she needs her daddy," he said.

"Hah," I said. "Your paramour, mister Westmoreland, told me that she didn't want me around unless I was okay with her doing you. Said she didn't want a wet blanket, like she was sure I would be, hanging around being a downer all of the time. And, she was right, I would have been one helluva wet blanket and that I can guarantee you, sir!"

"Yes, she told me that she said that to you. But, she's changed her mind. She told me to tell you that you should come home, wet blanket and all. I guess you could say she is trying to come to a compromise with you," said Humphrey.

"But, you and her will still be doing the dirty, right?" I said. "And that in my house, right?"

"Yes, to the first; no to the second. We would be doing it but not in your house. What I'm saying is that she is no longer insisting that you be okay with it," he said. "She realizes that that was asking too much of you. In fact I told her as much myself."

"Damn white of you," I said. "But, no, so long as she continues to cheat on me there is no hope of us getting by this mess. I require a one man woman who actually loves me boring in bed and all."

"No way to get you to reconsider?" he said. "And she does love you as I mentioned before. And, she is in point of fact a one man woman in the true meaning of the term. I'm just recreation like I said. We have fun. There is no commitment or psychological investment in our relationship, if it even is a relationship."

"No, I will not reconsider unless my conditions are met, and maybe not even then given what's gone on so far. But, you can tell Marylou that she can come live with me if she can bring herself to break away from you and the whore," I said.

"Okay, I tried," he said. "Just please think about some of the things that I said. You'd be well advised to do so, really." I closed the door behind him as he left and leaned back against it. And, then I had another visitor, two days after Westmoreland's.

******

I began to wonder if there might be some kind of conspiracy in the works to brainwash me and get me to accept my wife's terms. But, with Westmoreland's gambit history, I figured that all hope of any kind-on the part of my wife- of reconciliation between her and me was at an end. Boy was I wrong. And my next visitor, well, I was forced by nature to take a little more seriously.

"Hi dad," said Marylou.

I jumped. "Marylou! You startled me," I said. I had been working on a transmission when she made her appearance at mid-day.

"Got time for lunch, dad?" she said. She looked hopeful. I did not answer her right away. I scooped some hand goop out of the can and started cleaning the grime off my appendages. I stared at her as I wound my hands together in my at best but partially successful efforts.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. My tone was level, not negative, but merely level, noncommittal. She tendered me a wan smile. I dried off my hands and headed back inside to grab my coat. She waited for me. She knew what I was doing; she'd been to the shop many times in the past.

It'd been more than six months since the last time I'd seen her and during that lengthy period I'd heard not a word from her. Now I had. I had to believe that Westmoreland might have had a hand in that, but who knew.

I went over to Grant's bay, where he was doing a tune up on an old Chevy, and let him know I was going to lunch. He glanced in the direction that I did and saw with who; he gave me a thumbs up. Millie the shop secretary and Grant were the only ones still around when we left. The rest of the crew and Millie's assistant were already gone to the café down the street: the sometime lunch venue for our crew. I decided I didn't want a lot of questions from my fellow workers when I got back: I had her drive to the Denny's on Maple: we'd be anonymous there.

"Nice ride," I said. "Your momma buy it for you?" She tendered me a quizzical look.

"Huh?"

"New Corvettes don't come cheap. So?" I said.

"No, Humphrey bought it for me," she said. I think she was feeling a little embarrassed by her display of opulence.

"Hmm, nice of him," I said. My voice didn't quite sound accusatory. She didn't respond.

We pulled into the parking lot, got out and headed for the entrance. She walked slightly ahead of me. I noticed for the first time that she was dressed kind of nicely, expensively. She reminded me of the very model of the spoiled rich kid; a good looking rich kid by the way; well, she was my daughter. Whatever, all said and done, she sure as hell didn't look like the daughter of a workaday auto-mech.

The table we were escorted to was in the middle of the pack. The place was crowded; well, it was lunch hour.

I ordered a patty melt; she ordered a salad. I had to smile. The girl I used to know, or thought I knew, would have ordered a burger. I smiled at the thought.

Iced teas in front of us, she gave me the most condescending of looks I'd ever gotten from her.

"Dad, you have to go back and see mom. You just do," she said. "She talks about you almost every day. Frankly, Humphrey has told her to shut up more than once. Dad, she loves you, not him. He gets her off, but you make her day-or used to. Yes, she's selfish and she wants both things. Humphrey's easy and willing to agree to her plan. It's only you who is being so hard to get along with."

"Daughter dearest, are you actually so contemptuous of me to believe that you can come to me, after all that has gone down, and treat me like a little kid who doesn't know anything? Tell, me, I'd really like to know what your condescending attitude is based on," I said.

"Dad, I didn't mean…"

"Marylou, do you have any idea how ridiculous and odd and strange and frankly unrealistic you sound. Nobody, no husband is going to put up with being his wife's willing cuckold! None! But, she expects me to be just exactly that, and apparently, so do you!" I said.

She sighed. "Actually, I don't expect you to. It's clear to me that you are just too old fashioned to give in to her. Still, I had to give it the old college try. Oh, and you do know I started college this past quarter, right?"

"Didn't get the email. But, I knew you probably had," I said. She had the decency to look at least a little bit guilty.

"Yeah, I guess communication from our end has been kinda not forthcoming-oh-and neither has it been from your end," she said, looking more than satisfied with her retort.

"It's not me that wants to bring a cheating asshole into the family," I said. "Of course, he's apparently done a good job of buying you off."

"What the…!"

"That Vette out there for one thing," I said, more than logically.

"Huh? You think that… " she started.

"I think that the ten year old Mazda I would have given you, and kept in mechanically tight condition by the way, would have paled into insignificance compared to what mister rich man has your pretty pink ass riding in," I said.

"Mazda? What?" she said.

"It's at the shop. You know I keep it in primo shape all of the time in case you decide to come live with your dad. You know the one who isn't cheating on his spouse," I said.

She gave me a hard look. "I'm staying at the college dad, not with them. But, I'm there a lot mostly to help mom keep it together," she said.

"Keep it together?" I said.

"Yes, she can't get over you leaving her like that. She needs you dad. She wants Hump, but needs you. Hump's okay, but he's almost totally devoid of sensitivity. You on the other hand are 'mister' sensitive. Mom needs you. I need you," she said.

"Maybe, but not enough to shuck mister new guy," I said.

"Dad you are such a pain sometimes," she said.

"I plead guilty," I said. "But, you ain't seen nothin' yet."

"Daddy, please think about coming home. Please! Okay?" she said.

I looked at her and tried to gauge the sincerity of her request. "Maybe," I said.

"At least you didn't just blow me off," she said.

"Anyway, old Hump baby's moved in with her then? I mean full time?" I said.

"Yes," she said, "recently. He's paying the bills you should be paying."

"Should be? Not while he's getting into her pants," I said.

"Daddy! You are so darned old fashioned!" said my daughter.

"You got that right," I said. "Oh yeah."

The food having come, we talked a little longer, and I was able to get a pretty good picture of life at the other Nelson residence. It seemed as though, as Marylou described it, that good 'ole Humphrey and my wife were living in a business arrangement: polite interaction most of the time with occasional bouts of out of control passion. Marylou's position was analogous to a prized worker who made the company look good but was not necessarily indispensable.

******

The Wild Horse was more than a bar to me; it was place of refuge. For the first several months after the split I was more or less a solitary soul drinking, watching the dancers, occasionally talking to this or that bartender that deigned to notice my solitariness. But, then I met someone who kinda gave me a push: got me to get involved with other barflies, some of whom were women.

My inspiration was Jade Starling, and yes that was her working girl moniker: I'd learn later, much later, that her real name was Larissa Grey. Jade's day off was also Saturday, said it made her feel human to be out and about with the morally upright public. We talked a little as bar flies often do, but not about anything serious. I never asked her anything personal and she never asked me either. It worked for us. Hence, I didn't know she was a working girl, well, not right away. Then, I did.

It was late and I found her sitting on the ground, leaning back against her car, crying.

"Jade?" I said. "Can I help?"

"Huh?" she said.

"Can I help?" I said.

"My car is broken again. No one will talk to me let alone help me. Not out here on the parking lot," she said.

"Not out here? Your car is broken?" I said.

"No guy wants to be seen with a working girl out here: 'decent' people might get the wrong idea," she said, about as sardonically as I'd ever heard anyone say anything.

"Working girl? You're a… " I started.

"A whore for pay. Yes, I am," she said, almost fiercely.

"Well, I'll help you. Got a key?" I said.

"I don't work on Saturdays," she said. Her meaning was clear: I wasn't getting any tonight if that was what I was thinking.

"No-no, I wasn't looking for, well, you know. But, I do know something about cars," I said. "Your keys?"

She handed me her key ring. She'd been clutching it in her fist.

"You'll need to move, Jade, so I can get at the hood release inside," I said. She took on a sheepish look, but she rose, stood, and stepped aside.

I popped the hood and used my own key-ring flashlight to get a look under the hood. I saw the problem right away. I smiled.

"Your battery's dead," I said.

"Huh? It can't be. I've only had it a month, it's a new battery," she said.

"Yes, but your alternator belt is gone and you've been running on battery power alone, probably for the last day or two and not getting the recharge on it, the battery; and now it's dead. It's an easy fix and not expensive.

"Come on, I'll take you home and come back in theam and fix it for you. How's that," I said. She gave me a look that spelled suspicion.

"No-no, Jade, I'm not on the make. Not tonight. But, it's late, and I don't want to be going back to the shop to get all of this done now. I'll do it tomorrow; I promise. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, but how do you know so much about cars?" she said.

"I'm a mechanic, Jade. But frankly, any teenage boy might have seen the same thing I found when I looked under your hood. It's really not a biggee, but I need to get a belt, a few tools and have the time and the light of day to do the job easy. I hate working on cars in the dark.

"A mechanic. You never told me that," she said.

"No, I don't wanna hear a ton of stuff about what went wrong with everyone's car when I'm out at night, so I never say anything about my job. You're a special case: a damsel in distress," I said.

"Hmm," she said.

I took her home and kept her ignition key: I'd need it in the morning to get her car. I'd let her know that I'd have her wheels back to her by noon the next day. Grant would be helping me out to deliver the car. She was tentatively grateful, I guess is the way I would have to have described her attitude when I left with her keys.

******

I was back the next day to fix and pick up Jade's car with Grant driving chase in his Silverado.

I charged her $26, my cost, for the fan belt and no labor. She was effusive in her gratitude. I guess I passed muster as a friend. And no, she didn't offer to screw me for the price of the fan belt, not that I would have turned down the offer; she was a looker for sure.

"Nice lookin' chick," said Grant as he drove us back to the shop.

"Yes, yes, she is," I said.

"You figurin' on making a move on her. I mean in view of your domestic situation?" said Grant. I gave him a look.

"I don't know, maybe. She's a working girl, so, like I say; I don't know for sure," I said. Now I got the look.

"A whore! A whore for pay?" he said.

"Yeah, it's what she told me," I said.

"And you didn't get a freebie for saving her?" he said.

"No, no freebie. I'm not into taking advantage of women," I said. Grant snickered.

"Really," he said, "a sweet piece like her. You might wanna consider lowering her moral standards a tiny bit."

"Yeah maybe, if I wasn't still married," I said. He looked me askance.

"You saying you'd be willing to get back with Kendra after she did you like she did?" said Grant.

"Don't know. Maybe. We've been together for a long time. Except for her cheating on me this one time, I mean with this one guy, she's been a good wife to me," I said.

"Hmm, yeah, well, you're a stronger man than I am, dude. I'd never be able to get around the stuff you said she was doin' to you or sayin' to yuh," he said. "Not ever, and I'd be needin' some surgery to get my foot outta her ass."

We talked a little longer, until we got back to the shop. It occurred to me that he might have been right about me getting a little from Jade. I sure as hell was horny, not having gotten any since I broke up with Kendra. And, Kendra must've been thinking about that too, maybe figuring that I'd get desperate enough to give in. Well, she was wrong at least as far as she was concerned.

******

They still hadn't assigned me my own personal seat at the bar, figured that had to be close to happening given how many hours I spent there; but I was usually well received by the other barflies.

I'd just arrived and she was there, Jade. Well, I was a little later than usual: Grant had asked me to help him with some heavy lifting, that he had going, putting an engine head back in a car.

"How's it goin'," I said.

"Oh, hi, Scott. Good. You?" she said.

"Now I see you, I'm good too," I said, smiling. She smiled.

"Really. The sight of me makes you happy?" she said.

"Absolutely," I said. "Got time for a drink?" I said. She gave me a look.

"You know I'm working, right?" she said.

"Figured, but that doesn't answer my question?"

"Yes, sure," she said. "I always have time for my favorite mechanic." My turn to give her a look.

We took seats at one of the tables along the far wall.

"So, whaddya want to talk about?" she said. Now I had to think, something I hadn't done; I'd just seen her and decided that I wanted to talk to her.

"How about you letting me be one of your clients for the night?" I blurted.

I'm not sure if it was her or me that was the most surprised by my words. My red face-I could feel myself flush-tilted the answer to that little mystery in my direction, I was sure.

Jade laughed. "Really stud? Do you know how much I charge for an evening of my time."

"Look, you have a business to run, and I'm as horny as a goat. So this little extra ditty I have going tonight would rightly necessitate purchasing your professional services. But, to answer your question: no I don't know how much you charge for an evening," I said. She snickered.

"Okay. I'm a flat hundred an hour. Or, if the guy wants the whole night a flat five hundred. But-seeing's how it's you-I can maybe see my way clear to allow a twenty percent discount," she said. I could see in her eyes that she thought she was beyond my reach financially.

I smiled. "Okay, done," I said. "For the night and no discount required."

"Really?" she said. She was clearly surprised.

"Yes, really," I said.

******

Her place was small, really small, but I got the tour. In the back was a bedroom, maybe 12X6 featuring a small twin bed and a really little closet jammed somehow into the wall; while toward the front of the apartment; and at the end of a twelve foot long hallway was a combo dinette-kitchenette, that measured also maybe 12X6. It served as an all-purpose room whose only furniture was a small table with but two serviceable chairs. Oh, and separating the two rooms so far mentioned, and located in the middle of the narrow hallway, was the tiny bathroom. There was no front room per se or receiving area.

"Kinda small for a woman isn't it?" I said, as we reentered the dinette.

"Yes, but it's only $250 a month including lights and water. What can I say; I can afford it," she said. I nodded. Clearly work as a part time lady of the evening wasn't all that highly paid.

"Why don't you have a seat for a few while I change," she said. I did and she did. She returned in less than five minutes. A record for a woman, I guessed. Well, she was a pro.

It was a warm evening, and that was fortunate because what she was wearing was suitable for no other climatic condition: a very sheer yellow teddy with nothing under it, and six-inch heels that sparkled in the light of the ceiling lights constituted the totality of her ensemble.

I stood and took her in my arms. I had her for the night and I was going to use her the whole fucking time; or, at least until I ran out of spunk and energy.

She pushed me back and knelt in front of me. Her fingers traced the outline of my absolutely "in pain" penis and ball sack. "We need to get the first one out of the way so you can last a little bit. Okay?" she said. I nodded and slipped out of my loafers.

"You're the boss," I said. "Command me." She undid my belt and undid my pants pulling them floorward. I underpants followed. I stepped out of both. My button-down and my socks were all that remained. She took hold of my cock and stroked it for some few minutes. I stiffened and she aimed the spray toward the kitchenette floor. My dick shrank back into my body. But, as it happened, that was only a temporary situation. She immediately began sucking on my member. I was hard again in no time.

"Time for you to do me," she said. "What's your favorite position?"

"I guess missionary," I said. "I like the woman with her legs splayed wide waiting to get it."

"Let's go in the back and do it there then," she said.

She lay back on the bed and spread for me. She was absolutely beautiful and I could have willingly spent the whole night just sitting next to her and adoring her. A woman, who wants to, can make a man-any man-her slave without a whole lot of effort. I was living testimony to that little reality.

I undid my shirt and tossed it. I lay on top of her and kissed her and gloried in the feeling of her tits against my chest.

"Do me," she said. "Do me now."

"Yes, ma'am" I said. I loomed above her and lowered myself to where my cock was touching her slit. I pressed forward and after but minimal resistance, her pathway opened to receive me. I pushed and pulled a few times gaining increased penetration with each effort. Finally I was able to thrust myself into her to the hilt. I relaxed for a short moment and began screwing her.

She smiled as I labored as the male of the species was meant to labor in doing the female. She pulled her knees back to her shoulders and held them there with her hands allowing me to go deeper into her. I felt myself cumming. I began to thrust furiously in and out of her hoping to bring her off. She banged back at me meeting me thrust for thrust. She stiffened as I unloaded a quart of cum inside of her. Two loads down.

I rolled off of her.

"So far so good, sailor," she said. "I actually had a small orgasm there at the end. It's hard for a man to get a woman off, and you seem to have the knack for it. You'll need a little more practice to really do a good job, but not bad for a first time with a new, new to you, woman.

"Thanks, I think," I said.

"Over the next two hours I had her two more times: once again, missionary and once doggy. She had one more minor cum in my last try. Exhausted we slept. I awoke to a very practiced blowjob. I lay still and let her get me hard.

Hard, I rolled on top of her and took her one last time. My penis would ache for hours, but what the hell.

We were both quiet for some little time. She broke the silence.

"So, was I worth it?" she said.

"You bet," I said, as sincerely as I ever said anything. "I just hope you didn't find me as big a loser as my wife has. You know, boring."

"No, no, you were fine. You could improve, and you will; but, in the final analysis, you were quite acceptable," she said. "Certainly not boring."

We showered together and went down to the corner to the IHOP for breakfast. I handed her the money and informed her that breakfast was on her.

"It's all I've got on me," I said. It was five hundred dollars: my rent payment was going to be two weeks late. She laughed.

"Okay, fair enough," she said. We ate. She paid, and we kissed each other goodbye for the moment.

******

"And how did you come about this little piece of information, Connie," said Kendra.

"I saw them together, at the Wild Horse" said Connie. Kendra sneered.

"So, my moralistic 'one woman man' is playing on the side too," said Kendra. "Makes one wonder for sure."

"Yeah, I guess," said Connie. "Whaddya gonna do"

"Not sure, this is so off the charts. But, the woman better not be thinking of bein' around too long. I won't stand for another woman that I do not approve of being anywhere near my man," she said. The hypocrisy of her words did not register with either of the two friends.

******

She watched the other woman from a table across the room, a stem glass of white wine on the table in front of her. The woman being watched was clearly plying her wares. Kendra Nelson smiled; well, it was amusing: her husband was bedding a prostitute. A dozen thoughts, half formed plans, and images of revenge gamboled in her head. She would bring this craziness of his to a screeching conclusion. He was hers, not some gold digging whore's!

Just as she was about to get up and leave-well, she'd seen enough-the whore scored. She was heading out walking arm in arm with some young stud who in any other setting would have been thought to be underage. Hell, he still might be, thought Kendra. That might be the icing on the cake that she was figuratively about to bake.

She followed the couple out. She needed to know where they would perform their little impromptu assignation.

His pickup carried them to the Blue Moon motel about a mile from the bar. They parked in front. The young man went into the office and paid for a room. The woman, the whore, waited in the car.

He came out and signaled to his date to follow him. The woman got out and caught up to him. They locked arms and headed for a room at the back of the complex. Kendra noted the room number and made the call.

It took ten minutes for the two city vehicles, one a black and white and one not, to arrive.

The driver of the unmarked vehicle came toward her car. "Hi Ken," the cheap suit said to her.

"Hello Barry," she said. "They're in room 19." She nodded in the direction of the indicated room. The cop smiled.

"Long time no see and now you call me to pin a whore," said Barry Monroe. "I mean I haven't seen you since the reunion."

"Yes, that's true," said Kendra. "More's the pity. And yes, I am trying to get that piece of public ass off the streets. She's been messing with my husband. I want to put an end to their dalliances."

"I see. Well, since it's you asking I'll arrest her, but she'll likely make bail by tomorrow. You do know that," he said. "You sure you've got a video of him handing her the money?"

"Yes," she said.

"Good, I'm going to need it to make the arrest stick. Okay," he said.

"Yes, of course. It's here on my cell. Just get the phone back to me when you're done. Okay?" she said, as she handed him her iphone.

"You got it," he said. "You sticking around to see the next act of this little show?" he said.

"Yes, but from a distance. I'm not quite ready to let my husband in the know about this stuff. That'll be at a time of my choosing," she said.

He headed back to where the black and white was parked more or less unobtrusively at the rear of the lot.

She watched as her friend talked to the uniforms. They, the uniforms, exited their vehicle, went up to door 19, knocked once, announced that they were cops, and entered. Kendra smiled when she heard the woman inside scream. She made a note to have Sergeant Barry Monroe over for dinner or a barbecue, something.

******

I got the call at 9:00AM. It was from Jade.

"You're where" I said.

"Scott, I'm in jail downtown," she said.

"For what" I said, knowing full well what it had to be for.

"Soliciting," She said. I went silent for a long moment.

"Scott?" she said.

"Sorry, Jade, I was thinking. I will be down to post your bail as soon as they will allow," I said. I had assumed that was why she called; no, make that I knew it was why she called.

"Thank you Scott. I really do thank you," she said. We talked for another minute. I got the information from her that I needed to find her and to post her bail.

"No problem. I'll be down within the hour," I said. And, I was there, and I was told that she was going to be arraigned that evening in night court. I decided to hang around. Her group was brought in a little past 8:00PM. The judge sounded the gavel in her case, and that to the tune of five-thousand dollars cash or bond. The bondsman was there, and I paid the ten percent that was required and she was released. We went to Denny's.

I was having trouble digesting the idea that a cop would bother with the paperwork to arrest a part time lady of the evening.

"How did this happen?" I said after our coffees had been served.

"I don't know. I met a man-well-I met a young man; and he asked me how much. I told him and he paid me and he said let's go and we did and we were in the motel room and then the police came, and they took me in," she said, and she said all that in one breath.

"And the young man?" I said.

"They let him go," she said. He was a sailor.

"What! They let the man go!" I said.

"Yes. He was a sailor. I think that's why they let him go," she said. I was seething. This girl should not have been arrested if they were going to let the guy go, sailor or not.

We talked for another hour before we parted and went home to our separate places of residence.

******

I came through the front door at the house, my old home. I could hear her; she was on the phone with her friend Connie. I'd come to talk to her, as Marylou had asked me to. The timing was unbelievable.

"No Connie, he hasn't got a clue. How could he. He doesn't know Barry… No, no, no I went to school with Barry, not Scott… Yeah oh… That little strumpet won't be chasing after my personal wimp of a husband anymore… A few days in the can will make her persona non grata with Scott for sure…"

I couldn't believe it, but my own wife had apparently caused Jade to get arrested; that was the only possible conclusion to be drawn. What she was saying could not mean anything else. I was furious, and I was about to take her arrogance out of her hide-wasn't I? But, then I had a brainstorm. Oh yeah, I knew how I was going to handle this situation.

I made some noise, announced my presence. I heard her hang up.

"Scott! You're here! I am so glad to see you." She said, kissing me sweetly. I smiled and kissed her back.

"Yes, I'm here. A while back I talked to Marylou. I told her I'd think about coming back. So here I am," I said. "Where's Hump?"

"He's at work. Scott, he's been staying here," she said.

"Yes, I know, Marylou told me," I said. "I've no problem with that anymore. Marylou convinced me that I was being old fashioned. That I needed to be, well, a little less puritanical. You know like you, you guys," I said. She gave me a look that spelled suspicion.

"Okay, good. Yes, very good," she said. I almost laughed at her clear state of confusion, but, I didn't. We fell into a state of uncomfortable silence.

"We have some problems maybe to iron out," she said, in a pleading tone of voice.

"Yes, we do. If I may," I said, indicating that I would like to take the lead.

"Yes, I would appreciate it," she said, clearly relieved.

"You've been sleeping with a man not your husband that, until now, I have viscerally hated…"

"Scott, please," she said.

"But-not anymore. I'm not going to pretend that I like what you two are doing, but that said, after much thought; I have come to the conclusion that you do love me. And, I hasten to add, that I wouldn't be here if I didn't still love you," I said.

"Wait, wait. You don't hate Humphrey?" she said.

"Well, he's never going to be my best friend, but no, I do not hate him per se," I said. She let out long sigh.

"Thank God!" she said. "Honey, we are going to be good. Really, all right."

"That's my hope," I said. She came to me and embraced me. The kissing and hugging went on for some little time.

"Let's go upstairs," she said.

We went into our room, well, the room that used to be hers and mine. I looked around. No sign of mister Westmoreland's things or any other evidence that he had shared the room. I said so.

"What, no picture of mister Westmoreland?" I said.

"No, I wouldn't let him sleep in our bed. We-well-we use the guest room down the hall. And, Scott, there is a picture of the two of us, he and I, in that room." she said. I nodded. I had to wonder but didn't ask if Marylou was in the picture. As bad as the two of them taking "love" pictures together was, it would have been totally unacceptable were Marylou to be included.

"Tonight you and I will share this bed," she said. I nodded once more.

"Okay," I said. "And, tomorrow night?"

"We'll play that by ear, but maybe tomorrow I'll stay with him." She nodded in the direction of the guest room down the hall.

"Okay," I said. "I think when you do that that I will be going out that night. Knowing what's going on down the hall will be kinda tough for me in the beginning. You okay with that?" She nodded.

"Yes, of course, I certainly am. You have a right to do whatever you need to do to make yourself comfortable, happy. Honeybear, that's what I have been trying to tell you and sell you and make you understand from the beginning," she said.

"Well, good," I said. "I guess I'm just a slow learner." She smiled indulgently.

The sex that night was truly wonderful. It almost made me change my plans, but no, I was staying the course.

******

"Are you crazy!" said Jade, looking right at me. I almost broke out laughing, but I didn't.

"Jade, this is the supreme 'get some of ours back idea. It can't fail. One: she will not know that we know that she was the one that got you busted. Two: she can't object to me having my girl at home because she has her boyfriend at home. Will it be uncomfortable? Not for us. For her maybe and for the Hump for sure," I said.

"Maybe, but what's in it for me in the long haul?" she said. "Okay, I embarrass her maybe. Maybe I get her to feel a little bad for what she did to another human being. But after that-what?" She'd stopped me. I hadn't thought much beyond the obvious.

"Jade. Maybe we-I-do need to rethink this little deal. Yeah-yeah-yeah. We don't need it.

"But, Jade… " I started. She smiled.

"Never mind, sweetie, I know where we're going even if you don't; and, as well what's in it for me. So, yes, set the wheels in motion. Your wife and I will be getting along just fine thank you very much," she said, and now she laughed outright.

"Okay, good, if you're sure," I said.

"I am. And since you and I will be living together, for whatever reason, I need to let you know something. My real name is Larissa, Larissa Grey," she said. I smiled. I'd never asked her if Jade had been a business name or not; it had never occurred to me. I felt a little embarrassed. I recovered.

"Pretty name," I said. "But, here for now, you'll be Jade. They don't need to be in the know about anything that they don't need to be in the know about." She nodded.

******

D-day was the Monday of the week after I'd moved back into the house. I'd intimated to Jade-Larissa-that it wouldn't be uncomfortable for me and her, but I'd been wrong. I was plenty uncomfortable! Jade, oddly, as I now believed, was not.

We heard them come in, Kendra and her lover. I'd left Jade in the den; I wanted to make her entrance as dramatic as possible, and to do that I had to set the stage.

"Hi honey," said Kendra, hanging her coat in the atrium and shivering to indicate the cold outside-well it was November in Rockville.

"Hi back atcha," I said. She looked me askance; the buoyancy in my voice evidently raising red flags. Humphrey too tendered me a sidelong glance.

"Honey?" she said. "Something going on?"

"Hmm, yes. I'd have to say yes," I said.

"Okay? So-what?" she said.

"Well, as you are well aware, I have long been, well, kinda less than happy with you and Hump; well, doing what you've been doing,"

"Honey, we've been over this. What Hump and I do, you know on the side… " she started.

"Yes, I know, and I accept your explanation, your position, now. It, what you've been doing, hasn't seemed to affect you and me. We've been good the two of us. My wife's smile bordered on the excited.

"I must say that I am so happy you've come to the place where you could say that," she said. "And I know it wasn't easy."

"No, no, it wasn't, but I'm there now," I said. Hump had a look on him that spelled suspicion.

"Can I ask… " said Hump.

"Yes, but let's go into the den, and maybe I can clarify some things. Okay?" I said. My ebullient attitude was almost over the top, but, they followed me.

I entered first with Kendra right behind me.

"Wha-who-huh!" she said.

"Kind of a surprise huh?" I said.

What-what's… " started Kendra

"Kendra, Humphrey, this is Jade, a friend. You know, like you two," I said. The looks I got from my wife and her boyfriend were so something that I almost broke out in hysterics. I didn't, but almost.

"Scott-I mean-what?" tried Kendra.

"Jade will be staying in the room next to Hump's. They can share the hall bathroom. It'll work out.

"I have discovered that you had a good idea having Hump stay here. So, well, I've kinda copied you," I said.

"But… " started Kendra. I feigned concern with her tone of voice.

"It's all right isn't it?' I said. "I mean you and Hump…"

"Uh-okay," she said. "I guess so. It's just so unexpected." Her tone of voice was not real positive, but the words were all I cared about for the moment, and they were the right ones.

******

"Do you think he knows that you're the one who had her busted?" said Humphrey.

"No, nobody knows but you and me. It was an anonymous tip to an old friend," said Kendra.

"I don't know, but if he doesn't; then, this is a coincidence of truly surprising proportion," he said.

"Yes, for sure," she said. "But, no, there is no way he could know unless either you or I said something; and neither of us did. So no, no way." Hump didn't look convinced, but he spread his hands in an okay gesture.

Jade offered to help Kendra with dinner, but Kendra declined. Jade didn't push it.

After dinner things got tense. Well the clock was closing in on bedtime. Kendra made no bones about her desire to have me with her for the evening. I'd figured on that. I'd shown Jade to her room of course, and she was more than comfortable with the situation.

I was already stripping when Kendra finally came into the room. Tonight, Jade will have to do without," she said. "Can I ask? How long have you been doing her?"

"Oh, not long. We've only done it once. But it was good. No better than you, of course, just different," I said. She nodded.

I watched her as she stripped. I watched her as she mounted bed and spread herself wide for me. I wasted no time. I kissed her sweetly as I loomed above her. I thought of Jade down the hall; I'd be with her tomorrow night, as likely would be Kendra with her lover.

I fucked her slowly and enjoyed it. Well, why the hell not. I was horny."

We lay gasping for breath after my second go 'round. "Good for you?" I said.

"Oh yeah," she said. "Very good. You?"

"Oh yeah," I said.

"Whatcha thinking about," she said.

"Not thinking at this particular moment," I said. "I'll be thinking tomorrow, probably, but not tonight. I just want to savor the moment."

"Jade. What's she like?" said my wife. "What do you know about her?"

"Not much. We've talked some. She's in the public relations business. No husband, no kids. A little on the young side at twenty-eight. A scream in bed though. But her and me? It's only the sex, honey, not the kind commitment you and I have," I said. She nodded.

*******

"So, you say he doesn't know what she does for a living. Is that right?" said Humphrey.

"Apparently not. He thinks she's in public relations," said Kendra. The man across from her laughed.

"Well, she is kinda, I guess" he said. "She sure as hell relates. I mean she has relations with lots of guys from the public domain." He began laughing and couldn't stop. She began to become irritated.

"Stop it, Hump, it's not funny," she said.

"The hell you say," he said. "I think it's funnier than hell."

"Well, it's not. And, now the little shit's got her right here in the house rubbing my nose in it," she said.

"Well, dear girl, logically so do and have you," said Humphrey.

"Yes, because you came here after he cut country and helped with the bills. You actually have a right to be here far as I'm concerned," she said.

"Hmm, good point. Hard to argue with you on that one," he said.

"Exactly," she said

"So anyway, how was it last night? You haven't said," he said.

She shrugged. "Just as boring and hohum as usual. He just isn't worth a damn as a bed mate. If he was, you wouldn't be here now would you?" she said. He snickered.

"Yeah right," he said, "like you could do without the real thing now, I mean having experienced it." She smirked.

"It's good, you're good; but there are other things to consider besides exciting sex and staying power," she said.

"Yeah, money," he said. "And I've got that too. Kinda hard to find a downside to me when you think about it."

"Yeah, you do have the goods, can't deny it. Now, if you were just a tad more trustworthy than in fact is the case. Well, then I might be hard put to find a downside in you," she said.

"Hmm, untrustworthy am I?" he said. "You might have noticed that when wimpy abandoned you and stopped paying the bills that I was the one who stepped in and covered your pretty round butt."

"All true, and I do trust you-while I still have my looks and my feminine juices. But what happens when I age. Let me answer my own question.

"My wimpy little cuckold will still be there for me boring personality and all. While you, never doubt it, will be out chasing younger tail," she said. He spread his hands in an I surrender gesture.

I leaned against the wall just outside of the room they were in talking smack about me. She'd hurt me with her words-a lot.

"I was torn between going in and just having it out with them then and there, and just getting my stuff and Jade's and us leaving. Leaving finally won out.

I hustled down the hall to where Jade was ironing a couple of her dresses. She and I had to talk.

"Yes," she said, "We will leave, but not until after you and I get it on some. Maybe in a couple of weeks." I smiled. She was right. A little time with us getting it on under their noses was the ticket. Oh yeah.

******

"Should we say something to them?" asked Kendra.

"No, they're going to be getting it on. We know it, they know we know it, and that's the long and the short of it," said Humphrey. "You're not jealous are you?"

"No, not exactly. I'm a little miffed that I had no warning. I gave him warning," she said.

"Hmm, yes, a warning. I'm not sure a warning has any usefulness," he said. "It sure didn't with you telling him. And, your warning was really more of a softly put ultimatum the way you've described it to me. We'll just go with the flow and not make a big deal out of it. She's a good looking bitch, but she's not in your league. Don't worry about it. Okay?"

"Okay. I guess you're right. You're always right my big man," she said.

"You know, sooner or later he's gotta shit or get off the pot; and it looks like he's gonna opt for the former. You gotta think about divorcing the guy and putting him out of his misery," he said.

"I know, but I don't really want to. I mean divorce him. And, yes, I know it's not fair to you in spite of everything I said before. Anyway, I'll think about it," she said.

******

"Where are they?" said Jade.

"In the den. Let's you and me go to your room. Let them wonder and stew over it. I'm not needing her permission much less approval after what I overheard, so let's just do it. Okay?" I said.

She smiled, took my hand, and led me down the hall from the kitchen where we'd been talking and sipping our hot teas.

******

"What's That?" said Kendra. "It sounded like a scream. Humphrey leaned back in his seat.

"That, my dear, is the male of the species sticking it to his mate. Or, more accurately, the female of the species' cries of surrender as he takes her. Or, put yet another way, he's fucking her," said Humphrey.

"That! has to be a fake scream. He never, I mean never made me scream like that," said Kendra.

"Hmm, yeah, but she's a much smaller woman than you are. And, you've been used to getting it from me. Well me and those that came before me," he said. He gave her a knowing grin.

"Smart ass," she said. "She's a prostitute; I'm sure she's had plenty of experiences, that made her day."

"Hmm, maybe, but not likely, actually. Guys who know the game don't usually need to pay for it unless they are really big time losers. And, as good as me? Even less likely," he said.

"Harrummph! I still think she's faking it," she said.

"Sour grapes does not become you, and you are clearly, obviously, and embarrassingly jealous," he said, laughing. She shot him a shut up frown.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. I just think it's funny that you keep me around for the few hours a week that we do it, and shine him on if he doesn't much like it," said Humphrey. "I'm just as good a guy as he is. You just haven't figured that out yet."

She sighed. "You know, Hump, I have. It's just that-I don't know-I guess I'm just used to him. He makes me feel safe, loved. You…"

"I love you. And, I will protect you. And-I will not cheat on you. Promise," he said. She came to him and kissed him.

******

"Do you think they've gotten the message?" said Carrie Shuler, nee Snodgrass. "I mean you guys moved out a week ago, and you haven't heard word one from them?"

"No, no word. And no, I don't know what to make of their lack of-interest," I said.

"They are probably waiting for you to make the first move," said Grant. I shrugged.

"It doesn't matter, except maybe economically," said Larissa, who was going by her real name now. "Scott and I are planning on getting married, so a divorce might mean something economically, but otherwise…"

"Married! Scott, you old devil," said Grant. "Congratulations!"

"That goes for me too," said Carrie.

"We-and I emphasize the word 'we' were going to tell you tonight," said Scott. "In fact right about now." He nodded toward the just arriving waiter with the wheeled cart laden with the mandatory ice bucket and the equally mandatory bottle of champagne.

"But, my well-loved intended evidently couldn't wait!" I said, faking my displeasure. Larissa did have the decency to look a little red in the face.

"Well, I think it's wonderful," offered Carrie.

"Likewise," said Grant. I had to smile.

"Yeah, it is," I said. A man in a cheap suit approached our table.

"Mister Nelson?" he said. He looked back and forth between me and Grant.

"I'm Nelson," I said. He handed me an envelope.

"You're served, sir," he said. And he walked off. Everyone looked at me.

"Well, how do you like them apples," I said. "Now, I got knowing looks from everybody. "That's why no contact from them. She's decided to make it official: she's dumping me before I could dump her."

"Wow," said Larissa.

"You can double that for us," said Grant. "But, we do have the champagne. It's just that now we have two toasts to click our glasses for." He was all smiles.

"Damn straight," I said. And we did click our glasses and we did do it twice: one for the impending marriage of myself and Larissa and two for the divorce, our wedding gift from Kendra and Hump. I'd be remembering to send them wedding invitations. Oh yeah, that was a no brainer.

For the moment the divorce papers were put on the back burner. We ate our steaks, drank our wine-too much wine maybe-and made promises as related to our wedding: Grant would be my best man and Carrie would be doing the honors as maid of honor for Larissa.

"You know, Scott," said Grant. "You need to get Marylou involved in the wedding. She owes you, and I think she'll want to be doing some making up of some things to you if you get my drift." I gave him a look.

"Yes-you're right, Grant. I will. Larissa?" I said.

"One of the bride's maids?" she offered.

"No," said Carrie. "I'll be one of the bride's maids. Marylou will be your maid of honor. I mean if she will. If not, well…"

"Yes!" I said. "That okay with you, dear heart?"

"Sure. It's a good idea. It will most definitely be making a statement that your soon to be ex-wife will understand," said Larissa.

"It will indeed," I said.

******

Her brows were knitted in thought. "Dad? What day did you say that you and miss Grey were getting married?" said Marylou Nelson.

"The third, June the third," I said. I could see she was beginning to cry.

"What? What's wrong with the third. Your classes are out on the tenth.

"Dad, that's the day mom and Humphrey are getting married," said Marylou. "God hates me. I know it. God hates me."

"Oh. And, you have a conflict then?" I said, asking the obvious question.

"Do yuh think, dad? I mean after everything? Yes, I have a conflict," she said.

"Okay, well, it's too late to change dates for us. So, I guess you will have to choose. You know, like you did when you chose to live with your mom instead of me," I said.

"Dad, I've already told mom I'd be her maid of honor," she said.

"Oh, you mean so she can marry the guy she made a cuckold of me with. Well, have a good time," I said. I rose from the table and left. More talk just didn't seem to make a lot of sense to me. She was clearly in her mother's camp, not in mine; so, that ended it. I no longer had a daughter.

"Dad!" she called after me. But, I was gone.

******

"The same damn day!" cried Kendra.

"Yes, mom, and I hurt him-again. And this time there will be no making up with him," said Marylou.

"You need to go back and tell him that you'll be his lady's maid of honor," said Humphrey, butting in.

"No, Hump. I made the arrangements with mom first. I'm going to stick with my promise. It's dad's to understand," said Marylou. Humphrey Westmoreland spread his hands in an "I tried" gesture.

"Honey, I release you from your promise. Got to your dad. He's still hurt because you chose me over him when we broke up. You're right. If you don't go, he will consider it the last straw, and you may never see him again. I know it," said Kendra.

"No, mom, dad is just being stubborn as always. He needs to grow up, not me," said Marylou. Her mom nodded.

"Okay, then, I guess we just get on with life and do for ourselves," said Kendra. "But, I have to say, I do feel for your dad. I hurt him and now you have; regardless even if he is partly at fault, and he is."

******

The divorce had gone smoothly, smoother than most, I guessed. No alimony from me, well, she was marrying a wealthy man. She got the house, but I got half the equity in it after she, actually they, sold it. Dear old Humphrey wanted a bigger place now that they were married, something more expressive of their superior status as I saw things.

And yes, Marylou had been her mother's maid of honor. And no, we no longer communicated with any of them, nor they with us.

Two years gone now, since the divorce. Did I ever think about my ex, or my daughter? Sure, on occasion. But, I didn't dwell on it anymore, not since that last day talking with Marylou.

Larissa and I were doing right well. A new custom built home on the outskirts of town; two newer, though not new cars; and a baby on the way: all in this our second year of marriage. No time to dwell on the past.

Oh, and Larissa was a housewife now, and only that.

The Wild Horse was still my main hangout, mine and Larissa's. It had never been Kendra's let alone the Humpster's: way below their class. But, for whatever reason the gods had in mind; it was today. Kendra's at any rate.

Larissa and I were sitting at a small table toward the back. We wanted to be a little back from the blaring of the band's music when they started up, so we could talk in between tours of the dance floor. They didn't see us when they came in. No not, Kendra and the Hump. No, it was Kendra right enough, but she was with another guy, and the kisses he was showering with, even as they were escorted to a booth across the room from us, was a sure indication that they were more than platonic friends.

"So?" said Larissa.

"Got your cell phone?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

Let me borrow it for a moment," I said. "I wanna get some picks of the action." She handed it to me, and I got the picks I wanted. I sincerely doubted that good 'ole Humphrey was gonna be okay with what was going on. I was going to be emailing the picks before the sun rose.

I didn't have his email, Hump's, but I did still have Marylou's. I would be sending them to her. Boy would I love to have been there when she got them.

******

It was a month later that I got the news. Humphrey Westmoreland was suing his wife of two years for divorce. It seems he had evidence of his wife's infidelity. The word was that wifey got the shaft in the divorce barely coming out with her personal stuff and thirty percent of their accrued common assets gotten during the time of their short marriage.

The guy Kendra was doing was a cop, name of Barry Monroe, a sergeant on the force.

Well, like they say, what goes around, does indeed come around.

******

I'd sent the pics to Marylou-anonymously-not really knowing if she would cover for her mother or not. She hadn't. In fact there'd been a blow up the day she'd gotten them, the pics, as I learned much later. Humphrey, dear old Hump, had gotten the news upon arriving home that evening. Kendra confessed hoping to achieve something, a second chance maybe. But no, the Humpster had dumped her cheating ass on the spot.

I was reading the sordid details in the society section while having lunch at Denny's.; She plopped down in front of me.

"You sent me the pictures didn't you?" said Marylou, and she said it without so much as a hello.

"Well, and hello to you momma's little girl," I said. She snickered.

"You did didn't you?" she repeated.

"What pictures?"

"The ones of mom and the cop," she said. "You know exactly which ones. I know you do."

"Well, if you know, then you don't need confirmation from me," I said.

"Look dad, okay, you got her. And, I suppose you could say you got me too. And, she for sure deserved it. Me…"

"Whatever, as the teenagers are always saying," I said, interrupting her.

"Okay, so you're not talking about the pics. I actually came for another reason anyway if I may," said my ex-daughter. I looked at her, not responding.

"I'm getting married," she said.

"So," I said.

"I'd like you to give me away. And… " she started.

Now, "my" brow was knitted. "Why? I was never much of a dad as far as you were concerned before. Why now?" I said. "And, what's this 'and'."

"You were always my dad. I made choices some of which-but not all-were not real good. Anyway, I've treated you badly. I want to make it up to you. So, will you?" she said.

"Will I what?" I said.

"Give me away?" I stared at her.

"Will your mom and Humpty or her new guy be there?" I said.

"Don't know. They'll all get invitations," she said. I nodded.

"Okay, so long as none of the three of them is part of the wedding party. If they are, if any of them are, or if you even ask them to be, I'm outta there. I hope I'm clear," I said. "Anyway, what the other thing, the 'and'," I said.

"I would like to have, well, your wife be my maid of honor," she said. I leaned back in my seat.

"Really," I said, "Larissa? I mean after you turned 'her' down."

"Yes, really," she said. "That was then and this is now."

"Okay, I'll ask her. But, it'll be up to her," I said.

"Good enough," said Marylou.

******

"Well, okay, sure, I guess," said Larissa. "But, it was her idea not yours? You're sure?"

"Yes, all hers and a complete surprise to me," I said.

The rehearsal went smoothly. None of the three persona non-gratas were there. I figured they would be, or at least Kendra would be for the wedding. But, whatever, I felt like I was once again number one with my daughter, my errant daughter, and that kinda meant a lot to me. It didn't make up for all of the shit that went down, but it did soften the sting.

******

She was beautiful was my daughter. Jacob was a good looking groom too. I liked the kid, Jacob. He seemed to have a head on his shoulders, and I trusted him. He'd treat my baby right; I was certain of that.

The reception line was long. Had to be at least fifty of her college friends there along with all of our friends and relatives. Maybe a hundred guests overall. And yes, all three of the bad guys were there too. None of them were in the wedding party, but they all sat at tables close to the front.

Kendra and her cop at one table. The erstwhile Humphrey at another. I watched Kendra closely.

"What's caught your interest cowboy," said Larissa, as she nodded toward the focus of my "interest."

"I was just wondering how long before the cop became a cuckold like Humphrey and I did?" I said, smiling.

"Hmm, good question. Maybe she's learned her lesson?" said Larissa.

"And what lesson might that be?" I said.

"That the grass is never really greener on the other side of the hill," said Larissa. I snorted.

"Yeah, well, I might tend to disagree with you on that one. I mean look at the grass I'm cultivating now. I can tell you for sure that it is definitely greener than the pasture I used to play in," I said. Larissa laughed.

"Hmm, you get a point for that one," she said, and you might get lucky tonight. My turn to laugh.

"That's my sincerest hope," I said.

The toasts made, dinner done, father-daughter proforma dance in the books, and general dancing and drinking underway: Larissa and I had taken seats at the back to catch our collective breath after a more than athletic go at a chacha.

I hadn't noticed her coming toward us. She took a seat across from me.

"You got me good didn't you?" said Kendra. I stared at her now.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" she said.

"And good afternoon to you too," said Larissa, while smiling like a beaver gnawing on a soft wood pine tree.

"Yes, good afternoon to you too," I echoed. Kendra snickered.

"Look, Scott, I just wanted to say no hard feelings. Barry and I talked. He made me see just how one-way I'd been and how cruelly I'd dealt with you. I'm sorry, okay. And-I wish you and Larissa here all the best. Anyway, that's all I had to say. Okay?" she said.

"Yeah, okay," I said. "No hard feelings."

"If I may," said Larissa.

"Of course," said Kendra.

"We'll be talking one of these days, all of us, but not today. Today is your daughter's day," said Larissa. I nodded my agreement.

"Okay," said Kendra, "I hope we do. I think it would be good if we all could be friends."

"We'll see," I said. "There's a lot of water under the bridge, Kendra, and a lot of it is still pretty brackish if you know what I mean. But, as Larissa is saying, there'll likely be a time."

"Good," she said. "I'm going to go and find Marylou now and wish her and her man the best." She waved us goodbye and strode off in search of the newlyweds and I supposed her cop as well.

I noticed it was an hour after our little conversation with Kendra when a dance with my new wife was interrupted by the two of them. No, not Marylou and Jacob, who had been busy the whole time hurrahing their own wedding. No, it was Marylou and Humphrey! This surprised me.

"Dad, can the two of us talk to you for a minute?" said Marylou.

"Huh?" I said. "I mean, huh? I mean you and…"

"Please, dad," she said. "And, yes, Humphrey and I."

"Okay, but you'll be talking to the both of us," I said nodding toward my new woman-well not really new; who, I should add, seemed less surprised than did I.

"Scott, mister Nelson, I think this is the time to maybe mend some fences. I mean if you will allow," said Humphrey.

"Really," I said. I was not being real accommodating

"Honey, this is Marylou's day," said Larissa.

"Yes. You're right. Okay, Humphrey, whaddya got?" I said.

"Well, it's been a long time and a lot of stuff, and a lot of the stuff were mistakes and the lot of it," he said.

"Can't argue with your logic," I said.

"Daddy!" said Marylou, no doubt noting my less than enthusiastic response.

"Okay, okay, I'm listening," I said.

"Well, as you know my marriage to Kendra, Marylou's mom, cratered. And, as fate would have it, she didn't allow me the same opportunities that she offered you; I mean in the beginning of it all. Even my money didn't interest her. I think her new squeeze was instrumental in that particular choice, I don't know.

"But, all of that true and said, I have over time, as you may imagine, bonded with Marylou. Kind of an uncle thing if you get my drift," he said.

"Really. And, Marylou, How am I supposed to react to this in the best of all possible worlds," I said.

"Ideally, dad, you and Hump can be friends. Maybe even cohorts over the long haul.

"Dad, I know we hurt you. Maybe me more than anybody. But-well-I've grown up. And, now I understand how I should have acted and done in the beginning.

"Mom and Humphrey here did bad. Not just because of the sex, but mostly because of the disrespect they showed you. But, things evolve. I have come to know that as weak and mistake prone as we all are-even you dad-it is always still within us to fix things and to make them right," she said.

"What are you trying to say, Marylou. Get to it. I'm not as smart as you, and I want to get this little confab done and over with," I said.

"I think what Marylou is trying her best to tell us," said Larissa, butting in at just the right time, "is that she intends to have a relationship with the man that was long her stepfather, if that's the way to say it, and she hopes you will be okay with it.

"That about it, Marylou?" said Larissa. Marylou deflated and sagged back in the seat she'd assumed about halfway through her own spiel.

"Yes," said Marylou. "How about it dad." I nodded, but slowly.

"But, your mom?" I said.

"Mom is a totally different ballgame. I'll deal with her and Barry. She's hardly in a position to object to anything," said Marylou.

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess that's so," I said. I looked over at Larissa.

"Larissa?" I said. She shrugged.

"No problem as far as I'm concerned," she said.

"Hmm, okay then, baby," I said, addressing Marylou and nodding in the direction of the Hump who to his credit had so far managed to keep his trap shut. "But, Marylou, you and I still have some stuff to talk about, just not today. That okay with you?"

"Absolutely dad," she said.

******

Kendra and the cop did tie the knot and that about four weeks after Marylou and Jacob did so. And, Marylou was her maid of honor.

We hadn't gotten together as a group with any of them yet, Larissa and myself, but it would be likely to happen at some point.

People do stupid and selfish things as time goes on; that's life. But, then, as often as not, things happen that brings them back down to earth. I suppose it will all of us too. Well, the hope is.

-----------------------------

   Series:Lovers and Losers
   Author:Matt Moreau
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.forum.allporncomix.com/threads/matt-moreau-cuckold-cheating-hotwife.1934/
Published:2024-03-05
We'd served together in Iraq, Roger and me. We'd joined up right after high school. In country and out we'd had each other's back. It'd never been an issue for either of us, until I'd actually saved the asshole's life.

That day, because of the ungodly noise of the wind and the sandstorm, it'd been kicking up pretty good; he didn't hear the truck, nor did he see it since he had his back to it. Worse, in our desert fatigues the driver didn't see Roger or me either, not until the last second at any rate. But I did see him, the driver. I slammed Roger up hard against the wall, but since I was a couple of feet further out into the street protecting Roger, the truck hit me. The fact that the driver had finally slammed on the brakes saved me: I was injured, punctured lung, broken arm, broken leg; I survived.

Roger was suitably grateful: he visited me every day in the medic's tent till the evac guys finally got me to the capitol. And, his gratitude being boundless, he swore undying affection for me and mine. The "mine" part proved truer than the "me" part.

******

For the record I'm Wilbur Chandler. My wife, Sally Chandler nee Dorn. She and I met at a party six months after both Roger and I had mustered out. Six months after that Sally and I had gotten hitched. That was nine years ago now.

Sally is a princess, me, Joe average. But, I'm an okay looking average, and I can dance-my only social saving grace.

Sally was beautiful then as now. Oh and now? five-eight, one twenty, lustrous brown hair to her shoulders, C-cups, and a butt that could have launched thousand ships.

Oh yeah, and me, now? Five-seven, one-forty, thinning hair, and really thick lensed glasses. Oh, and I'm a mechanic, a good one; and, a well-paid one if it matters.

Oh, and our common age-thirty-two.

******

I watched as he took her. I was sick. Sick at heart, sick to my stomach, sick in my very soul: my marriage was over. My soulmate was-well-was not. My best friend was also a not. It was going to be very hard for me, very hard. I'd loved her since high school. Now, it was over.

I stepped into the room. "Sally…?" I said in a flat voice. God I sounded wimpy; no, I sounded as one in pain! Their heads snapped around to see me. Initial shock was replaced by looks of sympathy-that on her part. Him? His look bespoke amusement. Roger-who incidentally is single-always was a never-take-anything-seriously kind of guy. Clearly, fucking his best friend's wife was not a big deal to him, certainly not something to be taken all that seriously; hence, his look of amusement rather than of guilt or sympathy.

"Oh Wilbur, you surprised us, dear. Just go back downstairs, and wait for me. We're almost done here," she said. I didn't move I was rooted to the spot staring at the two of them.

"Go on get out, Will," he said impatiently. "You can have her back when I'm done," he said. And, again, 'he' of course, was the same Roger, Roger Hardy, my now ex-best friend, local bar owner, and Sally's boss, and yeah, the guy I'd saved.

Suddenly I was overcome with rage. I charged him. He had disengaged himself from my wife and was ready for me. I unloaded a right-left combination to his face. Problem was, it didn't faze him. He grabbed me by the scruff of my neck, pushed me down to an almost squatting position, and frog walked me out of my own bedroom. Out in the hallway he held me by my scruff; he looked, what, irritated.

"She said get out bud. You don't got it when it comes to this stuff. I got it, and she needs it. "I'm giving it to her, and you can have her back shortly," he said, slamming the door in my face. As he turned to go back in, he was laughing like it was all a big joke. Perhaps I should note here that my ex best friend is six-four and right at two-hundred and thirty pounds.

I stood staring at the door for the whole time they remained inside. Loser me! Well, I was a loser, clearly. He on the other hand was a lover, always had been.

I was stunned, couldn't believe what was happening. I heard my wife scream in pleasure at least twice. I sobbed uncontrollably. Like I said, I'm a loser, and I know it.

Maybe half an hour later the door sprang open. He came out still buttoning his shirt. "Thanks!" he said, "no biggee. Sorry about before. But, well, we were in the middle of it, you know. See yuh later. We'll talk." He was staring straight into my eyes as he finished buttoning up and said his spiel.

I just stared back at him, not saying anything.

"Get over it, guy; it was nothing," he said, smiling and turning to go. She finally emerged, and sighed her frustration at my emotional state.

"Oh, Wilbur, don't worry. I still love you. Roger and I were just playing. Really," she said. "Wait here. I will be back in a moment." She turned from me and walked him down the stairs. I heard them talking but couldn't catch what they were saying."

A minute or two later she returned to me. "Don't worry, dear, he's not replacing you. You're my love, my husband," she said. I shook my head.

"Not anymore, Sally. You can have the traitorous asshole or whomsoever, just not me. Not anymore." I retraced my steps into the room that had been ours for nine years, ever since returning from the Middle East. I searched out my jacket and my small tube bag, the one I used for carrying changes of clothes that I needed on the rare occasions I travelled anywhere.

I wasn't gonna be taking much of anything. I didn't need to. My bank account was separate from hers. I'd have enough money to buy whatever I needed. Apart from my work clothes and a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts I didn't need much. She could give the rest to Goodwill or whomsoever. The less I had to remind me of her and my fuckwad used-to-be-best friend the better.

She'd followed me up the stairs and watched as I packed the few things I needed and slipped on my jacket.

"Wilbur, honey, you're overreacting. He's a meaningless interlude and nothing more. He's your best friend! He adores you, really. For godssake stop packing and listen to me. Please."

"Best friend? Not any fucking more He manhandled me out of my own bedroom so that he could screw you some more. And, you didn't say a damn thing to him about it or try to get him to stop doing what he was doing to me. Then, just now, you ushered him out like he had a right to be here and to do those things to me," I said, "or should I say 'do' you."

"It isn't like that," she said.

"Oh, then how is it?" I said. "I'd really like to know."

"You attacked him. He had to defend himself. He didn't hurt you. I appreciated that. He could have hurt you. So, yes, I walked him out for that reason," she said. "I thanked him for not hitting you. That's all."

"He did hurt me, Sally. He humiliated me to the point that he has destroyed my marriage to the woman I had long thought of as my soulmate. I guess I was wrong about that. Hell, you helped him destroy me. You're nothing but a cheating whore! I will never dip my wick in your filthy pussy again, not if it was the last pussy on earth. And you can take that to the bank. But, as for that, I guess you wouldn't care much about that anyway," I said.

"Wilbur you've got it all wrong," she said.

"Do I? You wanna stay married to me?" I said.

"Yes, definitely," she said.

"He got his cell with him?" I said.

"Well, yes, of course," she said.

"Call him. Tell him to fuck himself, that you quit your job at his fucking bar, and that you never want to see him again," I said. "Do it now, and we'll talk, you and I."

"Look, Wilbur, let's talk first. I'll call him if you want after we talk. How's that?" she said.

"No. Now or never," I said. She sighed her frustration with me.

"That's what I thought. Have a miserable life, Sally, we're done." I strode out, and left.

******

I shacked up with a friend, Mickey Stewart, for the next couple of days. Just went to work, and tried to forget at least some of my pain. I reinforced that effort after work with a few shots of JD on the rocks. My new hangout, was the Sunset Bar and Grill. I had been a regular at Hardy's, my wife's place of work and my now ex best friend's store. Well, I was a regular until my marriage imploded; obviously I could never go back there.

Three days after the blowup, I guess she thought that I'd had a chance to cool off-not even was the reality-she showed up at the shop.

Me and couple of other guys were working at lifting the head out of an older model Caddy.

"Wilbur, can we talk for a minute," said the voice from behind me. She'd startled me. I turned to look at her. She looked great, no doubt part of the assault she was about to make on my psyche.

"No," I said, "we're through."

"Wilbur, you need to come home. We'll fix our problem tonight after dinner. Okay?" she said. She was doing this right in front of two of my compadres.

"Sally, there is no fixing it. Not ever. Please leave," I said. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with her standing there airing our dirty laundry in front of God and everybody.

"Look, Wilbur," she lowered her voice; but it was sure that the two guys with me could still hear her, "dick size isn't something you can do anything about. It is what it is. Roger just fills that single need. That's all. My face had to be turning a dozen shades of red as she said what she was saying. "He's good in bed but otherwise he's an asshole. Okay?"

I tried to look around and see who might have heard her put me down-maybe inadvertently-but put me down nonetheless. Three others of my coworkers had joined me and the two who were already there, no doubt because a looker like my wife was sashaying around the place; they were all ears. They were smiling and snickering. Humiliated did not begin to describe my emotional state.

"Sally, get out of here, please," I said.

"Wilbur, Roger didn't mean to hurt you the other day. When he pushed you out of the bedroom, he did it to avoid having to fight you and beat you up. It was a good thing," she said. "He was restraining himself." Her voice was normal now, and everybody heard her. Barry Milliken began laughing so hard he had to go outside.

She wouldn't leave, so I did. I didn't return until she'd gone. She'd left a message with Mickey, one of the five, to have me come home so we could talk.

I got looks all day from those who'd seen and heard what had gone on. I fast became the butt of jokes and whispered conversations.

That night at the Sunset B&G;, it all came to a head.

"Hey cowboy, just how little is your dick?" said Malcom Brady, one of the mechanics from the shop.

"Shut the fuck up, Brady. My old lady and I are splitsville, and I don't need any crap from an asshole like you," I said.

"What did you say, shrimp," he said, as he ripped me out of my chair. The fight was on. Brady wasn't as big as Roger Hardy, but he was bigger than me. Still, I got a few licks in before he messed me up: two black eyes and a broken nose. For his part, he got a bloody-not broken-nose out of it.

I spent a couple of hours at the clinic getting patched up; Mickey drove me over. Over the next few days at work Mickey didn't say anything, but he's the only one who didn't. I was a laughingstock. I quit my job three days after the fight. I couldn't work there anymore.

******

"Your hubby still upset with me?" said Roger. "I guess I owe him a case of beer."

"I would be amazed if he ever speaks to you again or comes in here, I mean to the bar," she said.

He laughed. "So, he hasn't called or come home to get his stuff?"

"No, and I'm worried. He's been gone five days. I think he's staying with Mickey, a friend of his, but…"

"He'll come home, but until he does, I fully intend to take advantage of his stupidity," he laughed. She shot him a look.

"Look it's only fun and games with you and me. He is way over reacting to everything. You know it and I know it. Hell, if I was married to you he could dip his wick in you if he wanted. The jackass knows I'd take a bullet for him. Messin' with you is only recreation and deep down he knows it," said Roger. "Heck, when we were in the army together, we used to trade off girls all the time."

"I don't know, Roger. I mean about him coming home. You pretty much humiliated him pushing out of the room by the scruff of the neck like that," she said. "I know you were doing your best to not hurt him, but the way you did it…"

"Yeah, I guess I did overdo that," he said. "But hell, I couldn't hurt the guy; he saved my life in Iraq."

"Overdo it? Do yuh think?" she said.

"When he returns, tell him the drinks are on me. Okay?" said Roger. She snickered.

"Yeah, like that would make a difference. I better get back to work," she said. He nodded.

She was talking to a regular at the end of the bar when the man came in. She saw him, recognized him, and went to see what he wanted to drink.

"Hi, Mickey, how's it going," she said. He gave her a look.

"Okay, I guess. Make it a tall cold one," he said. She headed back to the bar to draw the draft. She returned with the order.

"Mickey, can I ask you something?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"Is he staying with you, Mickey? Is he okay?" she said.

"Yes to the first. No to the second." He said.

"Huh?" she said.

"When you went to the shop last week, you cut him up pretty good, Sally," he said. "So, yes he's staying with me, and no he's not doing too good."

"I did not cut him up, to use your words! I went there to beg him to come home to me!" she said.

"Yes, maybe. You also referred to his little cock-talk about how to humiliate a guy. You also mentioned that your lover had run him out of his own bedroom, humiliating him in front of you. Half the shop heard you. They have not stopped making jokes at his expense and laughing at him," he said. Her face paled.

"Oh my God! I had no idea. I-I-I will go back to the shop and make things right. I swear I never meant to embarrass him. I love him. Yes, I will go there tomorrow," she said.

"Too late, Sally. He got into fight because of it all, and got beat up and had to go to the hospital. And, if that were not enough, it got so bad for him at the shop that he had to quit. He's currently unemployed," said Mickey.

"What! Quit! Unemployed!" she said almost squeaking out the words. "Oh my…"

"Yes, well it is what it is. He'll get another job. He's a good mech. He just needs a little time," said Mickey.

She'd taken a seat across from him. Now she rose and headed back to the bar. She had to think.

******

"He's unemployed? Shit! I hate to say it, Sally, but your hubby is a wuss. So a couple of guys laughed at him. He quits a good paying job over that!

"You best be talking to him. Maybe make it nice for him if you know what mean. If you want, I could talk to him. You know kind of apologize for doing him like I did," he said.

"Right, he's gonna go for any that-not!" she said.

"Listen, I was an asshole that day. I wasn't thinking. I guess I was showing off for the woman, you. You know, playing the macho bit, playing the big man. I was wrong," he said.

"Wrong? You fucked me and he saw you! He heard my screams of pleasure! Then you frog walked him out of his own bedroom. His hatred of you, and maybe even of me, probably knows no bounds," said Sally.

"Hate is a pretty big word. He'll get by this if he has half a brain. He and I are sympatico. Yeah, I know, I fucked you and he saw me. Big effing deal. It's not like I was trying to get you to leave him or anything. You, or we, just have to talk some sense into him. Your choice," he said. "It was only a little sex for godssake."

"Yeah, and just how do you figure to get him to talk to you? I mean all I see in you trying to talk to him, is him giving you the bird or trying to fight you again. He sure as hell has reason," said Sally. He gave her a look that-what-confused her.

"What are you thinking?" said Sally.

"Sally, you're a genius, and you are absolutely right," he said.

"What are you talking about?" she said.

"I get him to hit me, fight me, and I don't fight back or not very hard. I take my medicine, you know, for treating him so bad at the house. If I'm lucky-if we're lucky- afterwards, I'll be buying him a beer, and we'll be talking," said Roger.

"He won't fight you. He knows he can't win," said Sally; "he's half your size."

"Well, it's our only shot. I figure we gotta try if we want him to get back in the saddle with you where he belongs," he said.

"Yeah, well, even if he does let you buy him a drink, him getting back in the saddle with me is gonna be a hard nut. He told me never again," she said.

"Yeah, like any man is going to refuse you, dented ego or not," he said. She smirked.

"That's why I love you. You always say the right thing," she said.

"Love me?" he said.

"Well, you know what I mean," she said,

******

He watched his quarry for some minutes before he approached. Why do people always take deep breaths before going after a challenge? Well, that was a thought for another day.

He shoved his hands in his pockets to be, as he thought, less threatening; and strolled, leisurely strolled, toward the other man. It was a nice day in the park, warmish, but nice. How long it was going to stay that way, nice, was the question. His target had his back turned to him.

"Blades bare," said Roger.

******

I'd been sitting in the same spot pretty much every day since moving in with Mickey and quitting my job. Mickey'd go to work, and I'd come here to the park: lots of trees, young moms with their kids, birds and squirrels. Yeah, my kind of place. It was almost noon, too warm for most folks to be out; but I liked the heat. The park was deserted except for me.

Yeah Mick was cool No pressure. He was giving me time to get over what ailed me: the loss of my wife, my job, my best friend, my self-respect. The park was a lot better than four walls for thinking. Well, it was until now.

"What the fuck! What the fuck do you want, Roger. Get outta here," I didn't quite scream.

"You and I gotta talk," he said.

"No we don't. And, what's with the 'blades bare' shit; we're not in-country anymore. Those bridges have long since been burned," I said, "and by you."

"Yeah, maybe. But I still owe you," he said.

"Harrummph! So you screw my wife and turn her against me; I don't need your kind of gratitude, fuckwad. Just get the fuck away from me," I said.

"Look, Wilbur, I'd take a bullet for you…"

"Yeah, and my wife from me. Helluva thing," I said.

"Will, this has really gotten outta hand. Yeah, she and I cheated on you. I guess I know how you're feeling. I'm sorry, okay. But, I was not trying to take sally away from you. We just got this little thing…"

"Yeah, well not okay," I said, interrupting him. "What you and her have done is irreparable. You can't undo it, and I can't unremember it. So, do us all a favor, keep the whore, and get the fuck away from me. I got enough problems without you bein' around rubbin' my nose in it," I said. "The bitch even cost me my job! So please, just fucking go away. Please!"

"Will, she didn't cost you your job; your fucking ego did. Yeah, I heard about it. She embarrassed you trying to get you to come home. She did it wrong, but she's a woman; women are supposed to embarrass guys; it's what they do," said Roger.

He'd finally pushed me too far. So I did it. I spit in his face. I smiled at his obvious upset. Wiping the spittle off with the back of his hand, he took a menacing step toward me, stared at me-I was still smiling-then he backed up.

"I guess that means I failed," he said.

"Suck my dick asshole! Oh yeah, you failed, so travel," I said.

******

"He did what!" said Sally.

"He spit in my face. We were talking, not making much headway, but talking; and he spit in my face. I almost laid into him. But, after what he caught me doing with you; well, it was little enough to let him have that one," said Roger.

"Jesus, he must really be hurting-angry-jealous what all," she said.

"Oh yeah, all of the above," said Roger.

******

I needed to get a job. Trouble was, the news of what had happened at my old shop was all over town, or seemed so. Every other shop that could pay me a living wage knew about me. Hence, I had to move; Piqua was no longer friendly to me. I headed west to Indiana.

Greenville was a nice town, and nobody knew me there. Cross and Steel Motors needed a mechanic who was willing to work any hours. I fit the bill; they hired me.

I was able to find a cheap apartment near work and therefore was able to walk to work most days. Then, winter set in, and I had to drive. Well hell, I was used to it: Ohio, Indiana, the difference? None.

She had tried to reach me, at first by cell phone which I had changed to a new number; then, by emails, each of which I read and deleted. Yeah I knew how to use a computer. Sorry she said. Do anything to fix her mistakes she said. Begged me to come home and she'd make it up to me she vowed. All horseshit. Then I got one, an email, that intrigued me.

"Honey, she said. I've quit my job at Hardy's. I'm working at the Sunset now. And, after you left, I did what you said. I called him and cut him off from all further communication of any kind. I don't know what else to do, Will. I need you, and hope that you will have a little mercy on me and come home."

I wondered. Then, I wondered some more. Go home? Just leave things as they were and forget her? She'd refused to cut the motherfucker off before, but now she had, or so she said. Trust her? I had an idea. I called her. She wasn't home, but I left a message and my new number on the machine. She called me back that evening. I was eating at my new hangout, the Tree Bar.

"Hi honey," she said. "Thanks for getting back to me, really."

"Yeah hi. You claim you've dumped the bastard," I said.

"Yes, yes I have, Will. He's tried several times to call me and get back with me. Says he wants to make things right with you too. But, I told him you were the one to talk to not me. I haven't heard anything else from him for the past couple of days now. I think he finally got the message," she said.

"Hmm, maybe," I said. "I'm living here in Indiana. You wanna come over here and meet; well, we can discuss matters. Your choice." She was silent for a full half minute.

"Indiana? That's so far," she said. "And it's winter and it's cold." It was clear to me that she didn't want me back very badly.

"Goodbye, Sally." I hung up on her. The phone rang almost immediately after I hung up, but I unplugged the phone. The email I received ten minutes later begged forgiveness and asked for an address to come to. I sent it.

I got the visit the next day, Saturday-from Roger. Answering the door, I almost slammed it in his face. But, for whatever reason, I left it open. He followed me in.

"What the fuck are you doing here! We've had this conversation," I said.

"No we haven't. I tried to get you to have one with me, but you spit on that effort," he said.

"How did you find me?" I said. It was obvious how he'd done it, but I wanted to hear him say it, or, lie about it.

"Sally. You gave it to her and she gave it to me," he said.

"Will you answer a question honestly?' I said.

"Yes," he said.

"You still fucking her?" he hesitated, looked down, looked up, spread his hands, and waited for me to react.

"That's what I thought," I said. "Thanks for being honest. She lied in her teeth yesterday when I talked to her on the phone." My tone was sardonic as hell.

"I know, I was there telling her what to say. I needed to find you, and so did she, and it was the only way," he said.

"Yeah? Well where is she?" I said.

"At a nearby motel waiting for us," he said. "She was afraid you'd lose it, and well, she left it to me to try and get you to meet with us."

"Figures," I said. "Well, again, thanks for the honesty. Now, you can leave."

"It was the only way to get you to listen up, Will," he said. "You and I have seen a lot, done a lot together. I was an asshole. I want to make it right by you. Come on give me a break. Okay?"

"Not interested. You're fucking her; that's the kiss of death to my marriage, and to even the vaguest hope that you and I will ever be good again." I said.

"No it isn't!" he said.

"What! Huh! You seriously saying it's all right for you two to make me your cuckold? You seriously think I should be all right with an idiot idea like that!" I said.

"Since you ask, yes," he said. "And, you're nobody's cuckold. We-you and I-are just doing like always, like before-sharing."

"No it's not the same. In country we weren't married to any of those women. No, you and that whore I'm married to are certifiable. I mean really," I said.

"No we're not. But, I guess I do understand your feelings. Before-that day-like I said, I was an asshole. I-I don't know what I was thinking. Just being stupid, macho, whatever. I'd be grateful if you'd give me a chance to make it up to you, Will. I owe you; as you well know, and I treated you like shit that day. That'll never happen again" he said…

"So, fucking what, I'm a firm believer that my wife, any wife, needs to be a one man woman," I said. "If you owe me, then walk away from her." He ignored me, my words.

"I understand how you feel, the way you think, and so does she. Will, we just play a little. I'm not tryin' to come between you and Sally. She'd laugh me out of town if I ever suggested such a thing. I am a whole lot better at sex than you are. But at husbandship? Well, you get the idea."

"Whaddya want from me, Roger. You and her-you've killed my heart. Betrayed me. I'm alone, hopeless, and hurt real bad. And, if that sounds like I'm whining, feeling sorry for myself; well, so fucking what. Just leave and let me get on with rebuilding my life. Is that too goddamn fucking much to ask," I was yelling.

The target of my ire remained calm. "Will, come to the motel. Talk to us. Let your wife and I make our case. It won't kill you. Hell, maybe we can still fix this mess," he said. I snorted.

"Not a chance," I said. He put a business card on the end table: it was a card from the motel they were staying at. He nodded toward it.

"In case you change your mind," he said, "We'll be there till the day after tomorrow noon. And then we'll be gone.

******

"Well?" she said, as he threw his coat onto the queensize she was sitting on. It was getting late; he looked tired.

"No dice. I did leave the card with him. We can still hope, I guess." He said. She nodded.

"You never should have run him out of our bedroom like you did that day. It was too much for him. The humiliation, his humiliation, was just too damn much, Roger. Too much!"

"Yeah, I know that now. It was worse than him catching us like that," he said.

"Yes, yes, it was. Now, we are trying to convince him that we can all still have our cake and eat it too including him. But with him constantly reliving in his head you frog walking him by the scruff of the neck…

"Yes, I know. But, Will is not a weak man. If I had taken him on straight up, he'd have been hurt because I would have had to take him seriously. And, that lady, would have been much much worse," he said.

"I know, I know. It doesn't alter the fact that it's plenty bad enough as it is," she said.

"You could go see him. Kind of keep the pressure on to talk to us. Things can't get any worse than they already are," he said. She started to object, but stopped.

"Uh-yes-maybe," she said. "Uh-yes. Like you say it can't hurt. I know for sure if I did go to see him that he'd be calling me on me lying to him; I mean about giving you the door, but I don't see a choice. Sitting here hoping is a losing proposition."

"Indeed, it is that," he said. He looked up at the clock; it was almost noon. It's lunch time. Let's go eat.

"Maybe later I want you to fuck me first," she said. He smiled broadly.

"You talked me into it," he said. She began unbuttoning her jeans. She watched him as he matched her garment for garment.

Naked they came to each other and kissed, fiercely kissed. "Do me up good. I want to be full of your cum when I talk to him tonight. If this is my last try, I'm gonna be coming at him with all guns blazing, just like we talked about, Roger," she said. "And, I am going to do my damnedest to make him like them, his sloppy seconds."

"I like the way you think. Take no prisoners. Overwhelm him and force him to his knees. It just might work. God knows nothing else has. Yes, yes, two or three loads of my cum ought to do it," he said.

He pushed her back on the couch. She kicked her legs high in the air; they hung over his shoulders. Helpless, she grunted as he drove into her without preamble. Pushing and pulling himself in and out of her, he did her up good. Her face was contorted in pain: usual for her the first time he took on any given night. But, it was a pleasurable pain.

He made to turn her around and get her kneeling on the couch butt thrust lewdly toward him. On his knees, he played with his dick while sniffing her butt hole and seeping pussy. He was hard again in minutes. Standing he entered her now slickened cunt easily and began drilling her slowly and deliberately as she purred her surrender.

Half an hour later they lay side by side breathing heavily.

"That was good," she said.

"Ditto that for me" he said.

******

The Swordfish Foodery in Greenville was dimly lighted. It was the dinner hour. They sipped their wine and talked quietly, both contented and full, the afterglow of a good meal and sexual fulfillment visible in their look.

"Well, if I'm going to do this. I better get going," she said. He nodded.

"I could go with you," he said. "Maybe wait in the…"

"No, this I do single-o," she said.

"Okay, I guess so," he said. "Good luck." He raised the crossed fingers of both hands in support.

******

All I could think about was "his Rogerness." I hated him. He'd destroyed me, or at least been party to destroying me. But, for the fucking life of me, I couldn't hate the sonovabitch as much as I felt I should hate him. Well, regardless, he was history: time to get on with my life-finally!

It was almost 8:00 on the wall clock above the TV. I grabbed the clicker to see just what mindless nonsense I could find on the boob tube. I had just hit the on button when I heard the rapping-on "my" fucking chamber door.

Rising with some reluctance, I headed for the door, opened it, which deed was immediately followed by the opening of my mouth-a foot wide.

"Are you shittin' me!" I said.

"No, no," said Sally. "No, this is my last hurrah; well, actually hopefully not." I gave her a look of pure frustration as she swept past me and into my none too tastefully decorated abode.

"Your boyfriend wasn't enough. You gotta destroy me a little more too." I said. And, I said it sarcastically.

"What I want to do to you mister would be quite pleasurable. You can trust me on that one," she said.

"Oh, and what would that be soon to be ex-wife," I said.

"Why fuck you," she said.

"You did fuck me, Sally. You fucked me over. So just go back to wherever you came from and let me watch some exciting TV. Whaddya say?" I said. I was continuing with my almost studied sarcasm.

"No, I gotta take my shot," she said.

I mentioned my mouth as having opened wide at her appearance on my door step. Well, watching her begin to strip without hesitation or invitation caused my mouth to revisit those cavernous dimensions.

Black bikini panties and CFMs were all that remained of her vesture. "Cat got your tongue big boy," she said. I slowly shook head from side to side.

Her absolutely bald mound-that was easily discernible through the thin fabric of her panties-her C-cups, her flowing locks cascading around her shoulders and threatening to sacrilegiously hide those C-cups were collectively on the cusp of enslaving me.

"I-I-I… " I tried. She snickered.

"Come and get it, little man. And, do your best. I need it," she said. She slid to the floor. Her hands lay motionless along her sides. Her legs were closed, daring me, inviting me to forcefully spread them apart.

"Do me, Will. Just shut up and do me. We'll talk afterwards. Please," she said.

I was horny as hell. Well, it had been a while. I stripped, dropped to my knees, and made to spread her legs apart. I entered her easily. It was clear to me that he had taken her earlier, and not very much earlier. I could see from her look that she knew I knew. Sloppy seconds for me, Sally. That my lot?

"Yes," she said, "on both counts."

I began stroking in and out of her. I was monumentally angry, but I was also in heaven, pure heaven. She had me. And, I had to think she knew she had me. She was just too much to resist.

I felt myself cumming. Her butt rose high in the air slamming into me with my every thrust. It was clear that she was trying to make the experience the best I'd ever had, even with her; she was succeeding.

I rolled off of her breathing sporadically.

"Good for you?" she said. "Good enough to get you to come home to me?"

"Sloppy seconds?" I said. "Almost." I could almost feel her smiling.

"I love you Will. I love you and only you. You need to come home and take care of me. And, Will, I promise to take care of you," she said. "Justy forget about my playing with him. When you and I are together it's only us, Will, only us, not him not anybody else. We're in our own world."

"Him? Roger? The one who holds me in contempt? The one who humiliated me beyond anything I could ever have imagined?" I said.

She was silent for a long moment. "He doesn't hold you in contempt, Will. He actually loves you. He knows he did bad. Not made a mistake, but did bad. He wants to make it up to you. It's my sincerest hope that you'll let him."

"You haven't answered my question," I said. She sighed.

"I could try to give him up, but…"

"But it might be too hard for you," I finished for her. She looked down. "Yeah, I kinda thought so."

"Any chance you could give a little here?" she said.

"What's give a little?" I said.

"Well, maybe allow me a little play time with him now and then?" I gave her a look. "No, I guess not huh?" she said.

"We can talk about it. You and me. But with him? I'm not real comfortable with that," I said.

"Wait-wait. Are you saying there might be a chance. I mean… " she started.

"I don't know. I can't think of any scenario where I could be okay with it. I mean especially after what he did to me that day. You have no idea how bad that hurt and how awful it was for me at work after you came in that day and finished me off, finished what he started," I said.

"Will, I will never, never forgive myself for doing that to you that day. I didn't mean to, but the male ego…

"But-I mean-if we could figure a way to get by those, there might be a chance even now?" she said.

"What I said was that I couldn't think of a way where I could see my way clear to get around all of that. That's what I said," I said.

"But if there were a way?" she said.

"I don't know, maybe," I said. She tendered me a wan smile.

******

"So, how did it go?" said Roger. She looked at him, hung her coat on the hook on the bathroom door and plopped down into the single cushioned easy chair the Moonlight Motel afforded.

"Not sure. But we'll both know in about half an hour more or less," she said.

"Huh?" he said.

"He'll be here shortly. He's driving his own car," she said. His smile was broad.

"You mean…"

"I mean I don't know. He's willing to talk. I paid the required price for that, but he is still hurt real bad. I just don't know. But, that said, he is willing to talk," she said.

"There's no way to prep for-a meeting like this. What are we gonna do?" he said.

"Be sincere and don't try to snow him. He has to be convinced that what we say is true, heartfelt, and of benefit to him; and, that some way, somehow, he can get some of his back."

"Yeah, well, I got a little money; but him…?" he said.

"Money won't do it. He doesn't need it. I just hope that whatever he wants that we can handle it." She said.

"Sally, I only want us to all be friends-and yes-lovers again. Even if it means doing threesomes with him like we talked about," said Roger. He paused. He looked momentarily pensive. "Wouldn't that be somethin'?"

"What you and I might get out of it has to be a very distant second, at least in his mind. And like you, I don't know how to do that. I honestly don't, not yet," she said.

******

I sat in the car for a good five minutes before going up to knock. Finally I bit the bullet.

"Oh good," she said, answering the door. "I'm really glad you came, Will."

I have to say, Sally, I really don't know why I did come. I'm not sure you, me, Roger, have anything to say that'll make a difference. You know my position on any of this."

"Well, I'm just glad you're here," she said.

"Me too," said Roger, speaking for the first time. I just looked at him.

"Have a seat over there, Will," she said. She pointed to the cushionless rattan armchair, arguably the best seat in the house; I smiled, and took the seat. Roger seated himself on the foot of the bed while Sally planted her shapely bottom on the little stool that served the inadequate-but better than nothing-vanity the room afforded. The cushioned easy chair remained vacant.

"Well, we're all here," said Sally. She was smiling, but it was a forced smile for all of that.

"Yes, I guess we are," I said.

"Will, if I may?" said Roger. I nodded.

"Will, I don't know but what this time might be the last time the three of us do this. So, we, Sally and I, are here to level with you. Try to get you onboard with a proposal I'm going to make. Then, I mean, if you'd like to add anything-change anything… " He left that hanging in the air

"Okay," I said. "I'll listen. But if I may, I'd like to say a little something first, if that would be all right." His turn to nod. Sally, for her part, sported a wrinkled brow but said nothing.

"I require a one man woman for a wife. I do not want to share. No, that's not right. I refuse to share. That's my starting point. But more than that I cannot get out of my head what you did to me that day Roger. Do you know, I tried to rationalize it. I tried to convince myself that my best friend would never have done me that way if he'd been in his right mind. But, you were in your right mind, Roger. Weren't you?

"Failing in my attempts at rationalization, and that's plural attempts; I began thinking of ways to get revenge on you for what you did to me. And, I even came up with some pretty good ideas if you want to know. But, then I realized that revenge is really nothing but a low class attempt to salvage meaningless pride. Such being true, and I believe it is, I decided that no, the only revenge that means anything is that which comes from within the revengee himself-in this case you Roger; you have to make that choice.

"So, at any rate, I finally decided to just get lost and to stay lost, but you two; well, you wouldn't let me stay lost so to speak. So, here we are for what is very likely our last sit down. Okay, I've said my peace." Roger nodded.

"I understand broheem," he said. "But, I have a question for you. Would that be all right?" he said.

"I guess," I said. Sally stood up and signaled Roger to shut up.

"Will, you and I, well we've been a team, a husband and wife team, for a long time. Our proposal, the one that Roger was going to propose to you was this.

"Roger will leave tonight and head back home. You will, hopefully, stay here with me. Or, we'll go back to your place, and I will stay with you. We will restart our marriage. I will be the one man woman you say you must have," she said.

"Like any husband must have, Sally," I said, butting in. "But, so far so good. Go ahead."

"Whatever," she said. "But…"

"But, what?" I said.

"But, I would also ask that you and Roger bury the hatchet. You know, kinda let bygones be bygones," she said.

"That it?" I said. She looked away. No, she was looking for support from her fuck buddy. He took up the slack.

"Will, if you could see your way clear to-you know-allow me and her to get together once in a great while. Not like before, and never at your place, never that again. But once in a great while," said Roger. I had to smirk. Well, it was funny.

"Can't do it. Seeing her get ready for a date with you. Knowing you were talking about me while you were doing her. Probably laughing at me. Can't even begin to get my head around that, Roger baby," I said.

"What! Laugh at you! Never! I never did and I never would!" he said.

"You did that day I caught you," I said.

"Well, that was different," he said.

"No it wasn't. And, there is no way you wouldn't be talking about me putting me down to each other, you know-loser me, little dick me, no fucking good in bed me. No way in hell. But, even if by some quirk of human nature you were able to not laugh at me when you were together, you'd never be able to convince me that you weren't. I just don't trust you anymore. It's that simple," I said.

"Will, you saved my life. Ever since that day, I've had to live with the fact that I could never repay you for that, and I… " he started.

"Yeah, so instead of repaying me, you do me dirty by stealing my wife from me. Even today, she lied in her teeth telling me she'd kicked you to the curb. And, she hadn't; it was just a ploy to get me to talk to her, maybe get back with her. And, why that I don't know. I'd like to know, but I don't know." I looked over at her.

"Wanna at least give me a little bit of truth here, Sally? Wanna tell me why you want to get back with me? I'm not as good looking as him. He's taller than you; I'm not. And, as he's been more than happy to inform me, he's a whole lot better in bed that I am. So, what's the attraction, Sally? Why do you even want me back? You can get a divorce. You can marry him. Then you wouldn't be saddled with a ne'er do well like me," I said. She looked pensive. I knew she was weighing the risks of giving it to me straight.

"Will-okay: why do I want you back. It's complicated, but I will try to make it as understandable as possible," she said.

I remained silent. I figured to be able to tell if I was getting it straight as soon as she opened her mouth.

"To begin with Will, you are not a ne'er do well, far from it. That said… " she stopped talking. She was clearly conflicted.

"And?" I said trying to get her going again.

"Well, that said, you're okay in bed, really; but, nothing extra. I'm selfish enough to want something extra. Roger has it. And, doing him; well, somehow it never seemed like cheating. I mean he's us, one of us. It's always been you me and him. Almost like he was a second string husband to me. Not legally or emotionally of course, but real in other ways. Will, we've been doing it, him and I ever since you guys got back from Iraq. And, it has never hurt you and me, not ever. Well, not until that day," she said.

"What the fuck! Ten years!" I said. My voice was low and menacing. She ignored my upset.

"Will, I'm not ashamed to say it, I need you because of your income. You make twice what Roger can or ever will as a bar owner. His place operates in the red most of the time. Hell, half of the time I don't even get paid. So yes, I need you to support me, not him." She nodded in her fuck buddy's direction. He looked away. I think he felt some hurt as she said what she said.

And finally… " she stopped again.

"And?" I said.

"You kinda said it yourself, Will. Roger's a real good looking guy. Women hit on him all of the time at the restaurant. Me? I'm still fairly young, and men still give me the second look. But, the reality is, that in time, in time and not very much time, I'll age; and Roger will be looking to spread his pollen in other arbors. I know it, and there is no doubt about it. Men age better than women; it's nature.

"Don't look so down, Roger. You and I have talked.

"And all of this is supposed to make me feel better," I said.

"No, but maybe this next will," she said.

"What?" I said.

"Will, you're not like Roger; he's a lover. But, you have other qualities. Qualities, Will, that I cannot do without. You're steady and trustworthy-unlike Roger and me, I guess. Thirty years from now you'll still be there for me, still worshipping me and taking care of me; well, anyway, I can hope.

I have to have you back, Will, even if I really do have to give up Roger to get you. I just-well-I just hope you'll see that it's going to be real hard for me to do without what he brings to the table, and maybe you can see your way clear to…"

"To let you to fuck him, no matter how much hurt it puts on me." I said. "Let me see if I've got this straight. Roger's a lover and I'm loser. That about it?" I said.

"No, Will! You've got it all wrong. Yes, he's a lover, and you're a lover too, just different that's all. You and I make love. He and I make lust. That's all," she said. I felt myself nodding, but it was a sarcastic, or maybe a sardonic, nod.

"You love me, but you don't lust after me. I don't light your fire; I just make you feel-what-secure maybe. You might find this hard to believe, Sally, but I need a woman who is hot for me. It's clear to me that you're not. I just wish that I could roll back the clock and not have married you. I blame myself for that."

"Willard! Stop it! I do lust after you. And that regularly. You know damn well when I have the hots for you. I know you do. Deny it, but you'd be fooling yourself," she said.

"Uh-huh-not," I said. "I knew when I agreed to come here tonight that you'd, the two of you, would be putting my feet to the fire. I knew it, and I still came. Not sure why I came, like I said. But, then again, maybe I do. I'm still in love with you, Sally. Problem is I can't be with you anymore."

"And why the hell not!" she said.

"Yeah, old bud, why the hell not," said Roger.

"Because, Sally, you don't love me. I can make the case to myself that you might need me. But, love me? No. I can smell it, the contempt you two hold me in," I said.

"Contempt? What the fuck are you talking about, Wilbur Chandler! No one ever held you in contempt. Not me, not Roger, not anyone I ever met," said Sally.

"Uh-huh, and I have free tickets on Pigs Fly Airlines," I said. "But, all said and done, and as sure as I am about it all-and I am damn sure-I have to grant that I could be wrong. So, here's my deal, Sally, you go home. I'll stay here, for a year. During that year you are not to see Roger, contact him, send him holiday cards, nothing. At the end of the year, you and I will talk. And, if you have done all of the above, you and I will get back together.

"The year thing? Call it a little revenge for all of the shit you two have put on me over all of these past ten years. Whaddya say?" I said. She gave me a what-the-fuck look, but remained silent. She was thinking.

"Okay," she said. I guess you are entitled to a little payback. She looked over at her fuck buddy.

"Roger…"

"Never mind. I get it. I'll be heading back alone. It's been great knowing you two. And, Will, I still owe you. Damned if I don't," he said.

"If you owe me, then stay away from my woman. That's my price. That's all I need from you, all you can ever do for me that means anything," I said.

I stayed put in my chair while he packed his stuff. Fifteen minutes later he was gone. Not even a goodbye kiss for his ex-paramour.

She stared at me. I could see she was saddened; well, I hoped that's what I was reading into her look.

"So, what happens in a year, Will? You going to believe me if I say I have kept to the agreement," she said.

"Yes. You tell me it's so, and I'll believe you. I have to be able to trust you; otherwise, we have nothing. But, one slip up, one lie, a phone call from him that you take, and it will end us, and that in the very minute I discover you," I said. "That's the codicil." She nodded.

"Will, I know this is going to sound mercenary. But, if I can't see him, I will have to quit my job. I can probably get another one, but… " I nodded. I knew what she was about.

"I will send you two grand a month. I'll have to be working a ton of overtime to do it, but I can do it. But, you'll still need to get a job," I said. She nodded.

"A year without sex. Can I go out during that time? You know, dining and dancing?" she said. "Or, do I have to stay imprisoned within the house walls."

"It's up to you. But, temptation will be strong for you to give it up. So, the ball will be in your court. But, if you do go out, it can never be with him. Let him find his own honey," I said. "He's persona non grata forever because of what he did to me that day. I have realized over these past hours that I will never be able to get over it, what he did to me."

She sighed. "That was bad wasn't it? It really was that bad." My turn to nod.

"Oh yeah. You know, I wake up at night sometimes shaking with anger, and there is nothing I can do about it," I said.

"You know, Will, he feels just as bad about it as you do. I mean we've talked. Well, you can imagine. He's constantly reliving the day in the Middle East when you saved his life. Then, he relives what he did to you that day. You know he's actually cried in front of me about it. Cried in frustration at not being able to come up with something that would make it right by you.

"He was being macho-his words-and it came back to bite him in the ass. You could be the big man here and forgive him being an asshole that one time. It wouldn't kill you," she said.

"You defending him, Sally?" I said.

"Yeah, I guess, a little," she said. "We were family once, the three of us. He and I, well, we fucked it up. But, I gotta tell yuh; if I could live over any single moment in my life-our lives-it would be the one day. Change everything that happened that day. That's what I'd do. Change everything." That she was ignoring the previous ten years of cuckolding she'd done me didn't seem to occur to her.

"Yeah, so would I, Sally, so would I. But we don't have it to live over, do we?" I said. "But, you said he agonized over what he could do to make it all up to me. But, it never occurred to him to back off from fucking you. It's the one thing that might-I say might-have made a difference. But he never did."

"No, he never did. But, in truth, that was as much my fault as his. I was the one who thought-prayed-that I could get you to understand. To allow us the freedom to play once in a while, to include you too if you wanted. But, well, we know how that went, don't we." It was not a question.

"You know, of all of the dumb ideas you two had, that was the dumbest. How do you figure that a threesome among us would be a good thing for me?

"Just thinking now about how little you think of me as a bedroom partner, dontcha think that me being there would just add to my humiliation; I mean seeing him take you while I waited to have my turn to leave you unsatisfied? I mean, I'd know in advance that I was inadequate to the task, and that you'd just be enduring me so as not to make waves. How do you figure that I could deal with that," I said.

"Unsatisfied? Well, in truth maybe you would have left me hanging; you've done that a lot. Still, you have gotten me off before, not often, but you have. But, I do want to add, that in reality, just having you there making me feel good, safe, and wanted would have been a helluva a good thing for me. Better in some ways than what Roger could do for me with his eight inches and incredible endurance. But, I never got the chance to prove any of that did I?" That was a question.

"You really expect me to believe that, no bedroom skills me, just being there would be as good or better than how he could pleasure you!" I said.

"Expect you to believe it? No. But it would have been true nonetheless," she said.

"Yeah right," I said. She spread her hands in an I-don't-what-else-to-say gesture. I nodded.

She started packing up. I sat stock still while she did it. Done, she looked at me. Came to me, kissed me on the cheek, turned, and left totting her own small bag in the process.

******

I sat there alone, in the room, with her smell still clouding the air around me. For some reason the memory of good 'ole Roger was just kinda like a vague mist that had no meaning, no reality. Was he really going to be history? Well, one could hope however unrealistic that hope might be.

And, could "I" wait a year? Doubtful. Her? Highly unlikely. And, there was something else, something I couldn't quite get my head around; actually, that's not right; I was getting my head around it; I did have my head around it, and it didn't bode well for my peace of mind. The sloppy seconds she'd given me was the best sex I'd ever had! Jesus, what a mess!

The ride back to my apartment was slow. Well, I had to think and driving gave me that chance. Four walls just didn't do it for me, never had.

As I pulled into the lot that served our building a cab passed me, and headed off and away down the street.

******

Pulling into the lot, I parked, headed up to my apartment. I had just gotten to the top of the stairs when I saw her.

"Sally?" I said.

"He took the car, so I had to cab it over here. I decided that I am going to stay here with you. I can't go without sex for a whole year. I'd fail. I deserve to be punished I suppose, but not punished beyond my ability to succeed. So, I decided to gamble that you might be willing to modify your demands and just let me start over with you-here-now," she said.

I looked her up and down. She'd been crying. She looked nervous, I guess was the word. Thoughts were racing through my conscious mind, memories of humiliation and her willingness to cuckold me began to come to the surface and battle for supremacy with my recent realization of how much I'd loved getting my sloppy seconds.

Decisions. I nodded for her to follow me inside. She did. She seemed so helpless and something. She laid her coat over the back of the couch. I motion her to sit down on it; she hesitated as I took my seat in the easy chair across from it, the couch.

She didn't take her seat. She came over to me. She knelt at my feet and placed her hands on my knees.

"I belong with you, Will, not with Roger. He's good for sex, but not much else. I need to be here. I can't do it for a year, what you proposed. I just can't. You know I can't," she said.

"I knew it would be hard for you, I said. But, I felt you could do it if you were motivated enough to want to be with me," I said.

"You need me too, Will," she said, ignoring my logic. "I saw how desperate you were today when you took me."

"Yeah, my sloppy seconds," I said, not quite sarcastically.

"Yes, they were sloppies. And you were desperate enough to not only take me, but to love getting them. I could see it in your eyes. Hear it in you breathing."

"Yes, it's true, God help me. I was actually turned on by you doing that to me, you and Roger," I said. I saw her look change.

"Wilbur?" she said.

"It was never just him fucking you behind my back, Sally. Well, that was real bad, bad enough. No, it was the fact that he arrogantly assumed he could do it and get away with it for a case of beer. Plus it was the brutal way he humiliated me that day. It was like he'd never had any respect for me whatsoever. And, you were almost as bad. Contempt is what it was, contempt for me as a man and as master of my own home."

"Yes, I know. But, I don't think that Roger thought of it that way. He was just into the macho moment: taking your woman. Expecting you to be all right with it, yes, but not meaning anything by it per se. I know he doesn't hold you in contempt anymore if indeed he ever did. But, I can see why you'd think he did, me too of course," she said. I nodded.

There was a moment or two of silence.

"Okay, Sally, you can stay. I'm not gonna commit to how long you can stay, but we will be making some decisions in the morning," I said.

"Okay, Will. Can we at least sleep together? You know like old times?" she said. I started to say no, but then changed my mind. Well, I was still one hornyassed sonovabitch.

"Okay, Sally, I guess so. It has been awful lonely in that bed of mine. But, you shouldn't e reading anything into my letting you stay. Okay?" I said.

******

Sitting at the bar, he gazed down into the depths of his fourth double of the day. He'd been spending a lot of his days recently doing that. Hundred proof Smirnoff doubles are excellent medicine for the broken heart. And, a broken heart was exactly what he had. Sally was more than just a good lay. She was his dream girl, and she should have been his, not his best friend's. The good news was that today the drinks were free; well, he did own the bar.

His best friend had won the beauty. Her husband had won her heart. He'd, on the other hand, won her lust. But for a woman-any woman-the heart was the big mambo, not cock and balls. For a while, he'd been able to share her. It'd been on her terms, but share her he had. But, then had come gotterdammerung: the day he'd caught them. Worse, trying to get Sally to see him as a big man, bigger than her husband, had been the beginning of the end. And, she had now evidently made the decision to stay with her husband and be the dutiful and faithful wife. Well, life was full of tough disappointments.

"Another drink, sir," said Annabelle. He looked up at his employee of the moment.

"No, no, girl. I've had enough for the moment. Maybe later," he said. She watched him wobble out. He was drunk.

"Ernie," said Annabelle.

"Yeah, Anna," said Ernie.

"He's drunk. We can't let him drive like that," she said.

"I'll get my keys," said Ernie. She nodded.

I'd been watching the tableau from the far corner of the place. I stopped Ernie on his way to the back.

"Ernie, I got this, I said, interposing myself between Ernie and my ex best friend.

"Wilbur!" You! I haven't seen you around here… " started Ernie.

"Yeah, in a coon's age," I said, completing his sentence.

"Something like that. But, Wilbur, I don't know. I mean you and him…?"

"Yeah, I know. Strange as hell huh?" I said. He nodded.

"Look, I got this. He and I have to talk. Something's come up. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, I guess so," said Ernie.

He, Roger, was standing by the cash register kinda weaving back and forth. He appeared to be in some kind of never-never land. He turned toward me just as Ernie and myself approached.

"You!" he said. Ernie proffered me a look.

"Yeah, it's me asshole. I'm giving you a ride home. Don't give me no shit about it either. Got it!" I said. There was an edge to my voice, but the man didn't answer me. He turned toward the door and let me lead him out.

I loaded him into my pickup and we headed for his house.

I managed to muscle the bigger man into the house-well, he is a lot bigger than me, but I'm not that weak.

I dumped him on the couch and then went into the kitchen and put on the coffee. While it was perking, I made the call. She picked up on the second ring.

"Yes?" she said.

"Rent a car and come back here to his house. Do it tonight," I said.

"Wilbur? What are you talking about? He and I are through; I told you that," she said.

"Yes, and as far as the sex is concerned that's an issue we will be getting to. But, I have something else in mind, and I do not want to let it simmer any longer than I need to. So get here as soon as you can before I change my mind," I said.

He looked dead lying there, on the couch in the drunken stupor he'd poured himself into. I looked at him lying there and thought, fuck it. I headed for his spare bedroom. I'd slept it off a few times at his place in times gone by; I knew my way around; I could do it again. She'd be arriving in a few hours, probably around midnight the way I figured it.

******

The headlights from the car woke me. It was after one. It had to be her.

I knew she'd be fagged out, but I was also more than well aware that she'd be wanting some answers and would brook little in the way of stalling. Well, within limits, that suited me. I wanted to get that out of the way, so we could sleep. The morning? Well, that was a whole other kettle of fish.

I met her at the door.

"Will, what's going on?" She said. She glanced over at the couch where the body lay, inert but breathing. "Is he all right?"

"Yes, and hello to you dear," I said.

"Wiilll!" she said, drawing out my name.

"Okay, okay. I drove him home form the bar; he was drunk as a skunk. I left you earlier today to come here to give him one chance to make it up to me for what he did to me and to get us back on track. If he goes for it, all will be forgiven and forgotten," I said. His cuckolding me, his running me out of my own bedroom to fuck my wife, your destroying me on the job: all of it will be forgiven and forgotten. We start over," I said.

"But?" she said. "I hear a 'but' in there someplace."

"No, no buts. He isn't going to like it. It will be as humiliating for him as it was for me all of those times. But, it will be his choice," I said.

"What is it you plan to do to him?" she said. I smiled.

"Not yet," I said. "Not now."

"What!" she said.

"Whaddya mean not now?" she said.

"Like I said, he won't like it, but it's the only way I can see to even the score. And, he is persona non grata until that score is settled," I said.

She was snorting, worried, grimacing, panting whatever: well, my idea was heavy, and she seemed to get that I wasn't going to divulge the details until I was ready.

"Whatever it is, Will, he'll never go for it," she said. "Too much pride. He'll never go for whatever it is. I can tell that by just looking at you."

"He stole my pride, my self-esteem, my feelings of self-worth. Indirectly he cost me my job and reputation, made me a laughingstock. He owes me big time. This will cost him nothing but 'his' pride and self-respect, exactly what he took from me," I said. She nodded.

"Okay, okay, but why did you want me here?" she said.

A couple of reasons, but they can wait till morning. I'm dead tired as I am sure you are. Let's go to bed. I need you near me tonight," I said.

******

I was in the kitchen cooking up some waffles, when she appeared in the doorway. "You're finally up," I said.

"It was a long drive last night. You're cooking breakfast. Mind if I ask now what the deal is?" she said.

"In a little bit. I heard him stirring. He's gonna have a hangover, maybe a doozy. But, after he eats and has a couple of cups of coffee in him, we'll get to it. If he goes for it; we'll be good, like I said. If not well, then not," I said. She nodded.

She saw him first. A dead man walking. "What the fuck!" he said.

"Waffles actually, the fucking comes later-maybe," I said. My words got a look from Sally. Roger, for his part, fell into a chair at the table and attempted to die. I pushed a mug of java in front of him.

"Drink," I said. I said it slowly so it would register.

His hands shook but he did manage to get the cup to his lips and swallow some. A few minutes later we were all seated and working on the waffles.

"Okay, I don't know how I got home, but I guess it had to be you," he said, looking at me. He was coming out of it. The waffles were doing their job.

"Yeah, it was me. You were in no condition to drive.

"I've made a decision," I said.

"Oh?" he said. Sally was sitting back waiting for what I'm sure she thought was going to be a bomb.

"Over these last weeks, you've made the point that you wanted to get by all of the trouble that you and my erstwhile wife caused me. That still true?" I said.

"Yes!" they both said at once. I nodded. Sally was animated, she was about to say something, but my raised hand delayed that.

"Problem was and is that I have to be able to get some of mine back if that were ever to happen," I said.

"Anything, man. Anything," said Roger. I nodded again.

"Don't be so quick to agree, Roger. When the two of you came up there to visit me; well, something happened that made me realize that I could make amends with the two of you if I could, like I say, get some of mine back, as I said."

"Okay?" said Sally.

"Ditto that for me," said Roger.

"Sally came to me before sending you off, Roger. We had sex. It was sloppy seconds for me; you'd clearly already had her earlier that day," I said.

"Look, Wilbur… " started Roger.

"Please let me finish. It was the best sex I'd had with my wife in I don't know how long. Some of it was mental, I know that, but the physical was there too.

"What are you saying!" said Sally.

"Damn it, Sally, let me finish!" I said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell, but this is complicated. I'm getting to it. Trust me."

"Okay, okay, sheesh!" she said. I tendered her an exasperated look.

Roger suddenly looked pensive. "Wait a minute; wait a minute," he said, finally. "You saying that if Sally gives you sloppy seconds that you'd be good with us all letting bygones be bygones?"

"Yes and no," I said. "They'd be in the mix, but there is still the basic problem of me getting some of mine back."

"And, just how do you propose we do that. I mean I'm down for whatever you say," said Roger. "I did you bad, and I do want to make it up to you. Just tell me how."

"Simple," I said. "We all adjourn to the front room and you suck my cock-and-swallow." The silence at the table was palpable.

"You're kidding right? I mean of course you're kidding," he said." I sat there stony-faced and silent. His face fell.

"You're not kidding," he said, in a desperate tone of voice.

"Nope," I said. Sally tendered me a smirk.

"One blow job by Roger and we'd be good," she said. "Is there more?"

"Well, yes and no. Yes to the one-one very good-blow job. But after that we'd be setting some rules in place as to how to proceed in the future," I said.

Roger for his part was looking morose. "One blow job?" he said.

"Yes, and Sally here would be feeding my cock into your mouth and watching you do it. On your knees of course," I said. It's the only way I can think of to let you feel a little of what I felt when you frog walked me out of my own bedroom so you could continue screwing her," I said. He nodded.

"When?" He said.

"Now," I said. He looked down into his coffee cup. I knew what he was thinking: ten minutes of abject humiliation and the problem would not be a problem anymore; but, the abject humiliation; it was going to be bad for him. He got up and headed into the front room.

I'd indicated earlier that I wanted it in the front room because that's where I had set up my camera; that part they would have no ken of. But, if he ever did anything to me again like he did the one time-as unlikely as that might be-I would be in a position to ruin him. Neither of them would ever know about it of course, the video, unless they or he did something really untoward. I would finally be in the driver's seat dictating events.

"Where?" he said.

"Over there. Oh, and strip first," I said. He gave me a look.

"Don't worry, what we're going to be doing afterward you need to be naked for anyway," I said.

"Huh?" he said. I looked over at Sally. He half smiled.

"Me!" said Sally. "You guys are going to fuck me!"

"Seems like a good idea," I said. Roger looked intrigued but not necessarily happy. I wondered at that. As for Sally she gave me a look that was nothing if not a question.

He stripped and stood Apollo-like almost seeming to preen himself.

"On your knees," I said.

He seemed reluctant at first, but it was also clear that he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. I was more than willing to accommodate him-to a point. I moved in close to him. Pull down my pants. He did as he was directed, but again, with a very clear sense of reluctance.

"Sally come here," I said. I was hardening as I stood there. She came up beside me. "Feed it to him." She had a kind of sad look as she took hold of my cock and pulled it toward his mouth. At the same time, she took hold of the back of his head, and coaxed him in to do his duty.

"Open your mouth Roger, he can't put it in until you do," said Sally. He obeyed her and began a somewhat inexpert job of sucking me off. Then something happened that caused me some little concern. He was crying, not sobbing exactly but there were definite tears in the corners of his eyes.

It took him some minutes, maybe ten before he got me close. Sally still had her hand on the back of his head. I exploded into his mouth. Some small amount of cum seeped out, but he did swallow the most of it. I sure hoped the camera had done its job.

I shrank from him and he rocked back on his heels, rolled to his right, and stood up. I finished undressing and looked over at Sally to do likewise. She did.

"Okay, stud," I said. "Time for you to fuck her. I'll follow you."

Surprisingly he did not immediately jump to do my bidding. "We good now?" he said. I nodded.

"So long as you never do anything like what you did to me that day again," I said.

"I won't," he said. "You gonna watch while I do her?"

"Yes. Do a good job too," I said. He didn't exactly smile, but I had the sense that he felt-what-relieved.

He was gonna take her missionary. She was spread wide, almost obscenely, for him. He entered her without foreplay, though an argument could be made that her watching him suck my cock might be considered foreplay.

It took him some minutes to get off. She came and looked to be in a state of shock as she came and came and came.

"See if you can top that asshole," he said.

"I'll do my damnedest, butthead," I said.

We both took her two more times. The second time it was doggy and the last cowgirl. I did not fail her. She made it all three times I did her. When we were done, we all lay on the bed physical ruins.

******

The conversation after the fact was muted. We shacked up together for the night. In the morning Sally and I headed back to my place. Roger would be welcome to visit, but he would not be getting into her pants as much as before. Over the next year or so; he visited us maybe once a month. It seemed to be enough for her. Him, not so much.

We'd all learned a lot about ourselves and the fragile nature of the male, if not the human, ego. In the end we were back to being a unit once again. I still have the video, but it is gathering dust.

At any rate, sometimes things work out okay. It has for us.

-----------------------------

   Series:Madigan and Jessica Carlisle
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:He's a hero; she's a cheater; things get stormy.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/60346/madigan-and-jessica-carlisle
Published:2009-05-16
The chopper dropped down into the dusty camp and discharged its human cargo. Two helmeted figures held the litter as two others gently deposited their wounded comrade between the blanketed poles. Done, the two big troopers transported the wounded soldier to the waiting ambulance.

"Who's the casualty, sergeant," said the lieutenant.

"Corporal Carlisle, Madigan Carlisle," said the sergeant.

"He gonna make it?" said the lieutenant.

"He has to. The twenty men he saved won't stand for anything else," said the sergeant. The lieutenant nodded.

"Hear he's getting the Distinguished Service Cross," said the lieutenant.

"Yeah, to add to the two purple hearts and two bronze stars he already has," said the sergeant. "He's gonna look like a Mexican general with all of that stuff on his chest going home, and he 'is' going home. He'll go kicking and screaming, but, General Snow is not going to stand for anything else this time; he is definitely going home: too many holes in his body already. " 'Fraid he's going to lose that arm this time though. But, maybe not, we'll just have to see, I guess," said the sergeant.

Transit from Rhine Main took fourteen hours. I'd spent three weeks in the hospital there. I had forbidden the powers to alert my wife until I knew the status of my arm. I was already gimpy from Taliban shrapnel; I wouldn't be doing any line dancing for sure; I really didn't want to be going home armless as well. But, I'd done my job, and I felt good about things; well, about some things. Now to get home to Jessica and resume life in the real world.

I hadn't called ahead. Jessica would be surprised. The arm was going to take some time to get back to anything like normal in terms of its usage, but doc Savage had assured me it would come around. Hell, I guess I didn't look too bad, others had it worse. She'd cry a little, but she'd also be glad I was finally home from the war zone, that, I knew for sure.

The cab turned onto our street. I could see our home ahead at the end of the cul de sac. There was a strange car in the driveway alongside our Ford: Jessica had visitors. I was a bit disappointed. I really wanted to have a little time with her myself, time alone; fifteen months this time around was already way too long.

I paid the driver, grabbed by bag, and stood back and surveyed my home for a moment as the cab pulled away and down the street. I headed for the single story ranchstyle and entered.

Though I knew that my wife was home and obviously had a visitor or visitors, it was very quiet-at first. I headed down the hall. Ours was the last of the three bedrooms. As I got close I heard a man's voice. Getting closer I heard his words.

"Your husband have a tool like this," he said.

"Hell no, now get busy and put it in me," my wife said. "I need it bad."

"Whose pussy is that?" he said. "You don't get any till you tell me whose property your pussy is?"

"Just fuck me okay. Forget my husband. He ain't here. Okay. It's yours today," said my wife.

"I wanna hear it," he said.

"Okay, it's your pussy. Now will you fuck me!" said Jessica.

"Uhhggg." I heard her grunt as he obviously was penetrating her. I had left my bag by the front door. I was wearing my dress uniform-kinda to impress my wife. But now-I sagged to the floor against the wall just outside the door.

The tears were already coming. My heart was broken in two and there would be no repairing it. I could hear him slamming her. She, for her part, was moaning and grunting and swearing as he fucked her.

I supposed that he was slowing down. He started to talk normally again. "Maybe I should come around and give him lessons when he gets back," he said, and laughed. "Oh wait, that wouldn't do any good. His dick is, how did you describe it?"

"Shut up and fuck me harder you asshole!" she commanded.

"What was it you said about his dick?" he insisted.

"His dick is dinky, okay. He's mister dinky-dick. Okay now! Hurry up and fuck me harder," she said. "Yeeesssssyeeeesssss!" The bed was rocking and creaking as he screwed her to the max.

They must have climaxed. The bed stopped rocking and squeaking and the talk was quiet now. I could hear them breathing hard. I could hear her whispering something, but I couldn't make out the words.

I was in a state of near shock. I had had some very close calls in Afghanistan, and I had nearly been killed more than once, but I had never felt this bad. Helluva a welcome home. Helluva a welcome.

"I gotta get me a towel from the hall closet. I'll be right back," she said. He muttered something. The bed squeaked and I heard her bounce of the bed and hit the floor. She came storming out of the bedroom and froze in her tracks.

I was looking at the floor, when she came out; a small puddle of tears was pooled between my legs as I sat there. Her hand went to her mouth. "Oh my God!"

"Please tell you lover to leave," I said so softly that I wasn't sure she could even hear me. She disappeared back into the room. I could hear her saying something to him excitedly but very softly. Then I heard him.

"What the fuck!" The conversation continued in very muted tones for another minute. I just sat there. He was fastening his belt as he came into the hallway. He looked down at me as I sat there; our eyes met briefly. He said nothing. He edged past me literally rubbing against the far wall and then he ran-walked down the hall and out the door.

My wife came out and looked at me. "Madigan-" she was apparently at a loss for words.

"I'll sleep in the guest room tonight," I said, sniffling. I couldn't help it; I was ready to break down into uncontrolled sobs. Someone who has never been at war and returned to what I returned to could not know the heartache, the sense of loss, that I was feeling at that moment.

"Madigan, I am so sorry. How-how-how long were you…"

"I heard it all," I said. "But, don't worry, dinky-dick won't be bothering you anymore."

"My God! I am so ashamed, Madigan," she said. She'd slipped her sundress on while she was in the room talking to her lover, but I could tell she didn't have on any of her under things: bra, panties. She was sexy as hell, and I needed what I now knew I wasn't going to get. Still, my four-inch thunderstick, for the life of me, was rock hard; I had no idea what that meant.

"You? Ashamed? Why? I'm the one with the worthless cock. I'm the one who should be ashamed, and I am." I rose and headed back to the door to get my bag. My limp was accentuated because I had sat so long on the floor in that scruntched up position. She noticed.

"Madigan! You're hurt," she said. "And why is the sleeve of your shirt so fat?"

I turned toward her. I smiled, if somewhat weakly, "Just a trophy from Afghanistan. But it's all right. I guess you'll be having big dick get things off the top shelf from now on," I said.

"Madigan, please. It isn't what you think; it really isn't. He just-I don't know-he gets off on the stupid talk. I humor him.

"Madigan, I was lonely. You'd been gone so long… "she said, running out of words.

"Yeah, well, I hope it was worth it to you. I just hope it was worth it to you.

"I'll be sleeping in the guest room till I can find a place. I wasn't well-I wasn't ready to-I'll just need a few days to get my stuff in order. I just need a little time. I'd be grateful if you could have your-meetings-with him-somewhere else while I'm still here. I'd be grateful," I said. I was choking up.

"Madigan, there won't be any meetings with him, not anymore. Please don't leave, and you have to sleep in your own room, our room. I know how this must look-seem…"

"No, no. I'll be leaving, and I could never sleep in there again, not after… " I was having a lot of trouble talking.

"Madigan, baby, I love you. I don't want to be with him. I'm cutting him off and out of my life right now. You're back. I need you. Don't leave, Maddy, don't let my stupidity ruin us. Give me a chance. Please!" she was the one crying now.

"I gotta lie down for a little while. I'm tired," I said. "You know, all I could think of those weeks in Germany-oh, you don't know about those, that's right-but anyway, all I could think about was you, us, together for the first time in a long time. Jess, I really needed you. I just don't know how you could have…"

"Maaaddddyyyy! Please forgive me. Let me make this up to you. Pullleeezzz!" she was desperate. I actually wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her, forgive her, try to get by it. But, it was all too fresh-and her words. But, even as I thought that, she rushed me. Clung to me, her arms wrapped around me. I howled in pain as she crashed against the special splint that held my wreck of an arm in place. She jumped back in shock at my obvious pain.

"Maddy, I'm sorry. You really are hurt. You're hurt bad; I can tell," she said. The pain was so bad I was seeing stars. My breath came in short gasps. Finally, I was able to more or less pull myself together.

For the first time since walking in on her, I almost had to laugh. "Really, what makes you think I'm hurt?' I said, I grimaced when I said it. I was being sarcastic, and she caught it.

"Madigan, I made a mistake, okay. I'm sorry about bumping your arm like that. My God how sorry I am. But, none of your letters said anything about being hurt," she said. For the first time she stopped to assess what she was seeing. She stepped back and looked me up and down. "You really are hurt, Maddy. And all of those medal thingys, you've got them because you're hurt right?" I could see she was trying to process a lot of things at once: my catching her, my injuries, my medals; it was a lot for a woman, any woman, to take in all at once.

In spite of everything that was happening, in my mind I kept hearing her call me dinky-dick. Why'd she have to say that to that man! And who the hell was he? God how her words hurt me. They'd hurt me more than catching her in bed with him. They'd hurt me because I knew they were true words. I was small. Well, what could I do; it was what it was.

She picked up my bag and carried it for me to the guest room. I followed her inside ten seconds later. The bed was queen-sized, and she was laying on it. "This will be our bed, Maddy. We'll use the other room for storage or something-okay?" she was trying. "I understand you not wanting to be in there."

"Jessica-I-we-I can't… " I said.

"Yes, you can and we can. Come here, my hero, please come here," she said. "I have a lot of making up to do, and I want to start right now."

I snickered, "Sloppy seconds for me?" I said. Her face showed shock.

"Oh my, I forgot! Heavens no! Not for you, my husband. I'll clean myself up first. I wasn't thinking! I'll clean up right now." She started to get up and off the bed. I don't know why. I guess for a lot of reasons: my shock at catching them, my injuries, the pain, jet lag. But, I took that moment to embarrass myself totally. I fainted. I just melted to the floor kind of slowly, and I was out.

I don't know how long I was out, it couldn't have been too long, but when I came to, she was trying to get me to drink a little water. I took a sip. She helped me up and sat me on the edge of the bed. She helped me with my clothes: shoes, tunic, shirt, pants. She laid me gently back down propping my head on a pillow in the process. I was asleep in less than a minute.

It was dark outside when I awoke. She was beside me kissing me. I was still in my underpants and t-shirt. She was in a short slip. She smelled terrific. It was going to be a full court press, and I was so horny, physically weak, and emotionally drained that I had little hope of overcoming it.

"Madigan, what have I done to you, to us. I am so ashamed. You just have to let me atone for what I said-did," she said. She was spooning me. She kept looking at my arm. It was maybe two-thirds the size of my right arm. She'd evidently removed the splint at some point, but she was guarding it, my arm, personally. The doctor had promised that I would get back most of it in terms of size in maybe a year. I had a lot of therapy, some of it on my own, to get through first though.

"Millie-I-you-me-what you said-I don't think I can get by that," I said. She was not deterred. She began kissing me again ignoring my words. The smell of her was getting to me. I was her cuckold. I knew it and I hated it, the sharing of her with that man. But, I was her cuckold and I was her man. I needed her even if she was cheating on me. Jesus what a pussywhipped wimp I was.

She looked up for a moment. "He's history, Madigan. I swear it."

"Who is he?" I said, pushing her gently back. She looked at me. She realized that I was not going to settle for anything but full and complete disclosure.

"Mark Hanson. He works for the travel agency where I do my office temp work sometimes. He came on to me, and I surrendered. I needed something, someone to take care of my needs. He was handy. He was never anything but a human dildo," Madigan. "He never could be anything more than that. Like I said before, he's history."

"Is he as big-?"

"Madigan, can we just forget him. I need to concentrate on us right now, on you. You did not deserve the trash talking you heard. I'm an asshole and a cheater. But, I am going to make it up to you, so help me, if it takes me forever. I love you and only you. I swear it," she said.

I lay back and let her do me. She took out my cock and began playing with it. I was already rock hard from the smell of her; the cool her hands made me harder still. My misgiving loomed large. My insecurities larger, but I couldn't deal with them right at the moment; that would be for tomorrow. And, anyone who can't understand that was never anywhere near anyone like Jessica.

She took me in her mouth and for a moment Mark Hanson really didn't have any meaning in our lives. He would however be destined to reemerge as more than a problem, and that soon.

She stayed home, we both did, for the next several days. We slept together, but sex was not the mind-blowing period on the sentence that I had hoped for while dreaming of her in the hospital in Germany. On two occasions I was so depressed by the images I conjured up in my mind, that I couldn't get it up, not even with her enthusiastic help. I kept thinking of her words-dinky-dick. I just couldn't seem to get past those.

To her credit, Jessica hadn't made an issue out of it, my failure to perform. She may have been dumb enough to cheat on her man, but she was not dumb enough to rub his nose in it; she was going to give herself, and him, time to get over her actions. She had plans, and at least some of them included keeping her good man at home and happy; some, but not all. She did love him, and, she did not love the other man; but she needed more than her true love had to offer. That was clear to me. The other man could fill in those gaps in her world of needs. Oh yes, she had plans: foolproof plans.

She waited nervously at the table farthest from the bar. The man was late. He was never late. Damn him! She didn't have all day. Finally, she saw him looking around trying to spot her. She stood and waved, not too obviously, for him to join her.

"It took you long enough," she said.

"Couldn't help it. This is the city, and this time of day traffic is at best challenging," he said.

"Then leave earlier," she said.

"How you doing?" he said, ignoring her pique.

"Treading water. He's trying to figure out what to do. I have to go slow and try and help him find his balance. He's hurting real bad, and I don't blame him. Your words, my words, must have killed him," she said.

"Yeah, I guess so. But there is no way we knew he'd be there like that. Shit, even I feel sorry for the guy; and I'm the one that wants to get into his wife's pants," he said.

"Yeah, well, you'll have to go on wanting for a while. There is no way he tolerates me being gone for any length of time at this point," she said. "And, you have to stay away from me totally. No calling, no bumping into me accidentally in the supermarket. You need to be nowhere around. Got it?" she said.

"I suppose. I don't like it, but I suppose.

"Has his dick grown any since you last fucked him?" he said, and he laughed.

"Jesus, Mark, haven't you learned anything here. You don't need to be comparing his dick with yours or anyone else's. So it's small; it still works. He's fucked me five of the last eight days since he caught us. He's doing his duty, and by God I'm doing mine," she said.

"Only five out of eight?" said Mark. He was genuinely surprised.

"He couldn't get it up a couple of times because of the memory of what he caught us doing. He's hurt, Mark, hurt bad. Don't you get it; I mean really. So just stop talking about him. You ain't never going to see him naked, so you don't need to be making any comments.

"Jesus, I'm sorry I ever mentioned the size of his cock to you. I don't know what I could've been thinking," she said.

Harvey Gillis had been Madigan Carlisle's pal since grade school. They were tight. They did everything together. They were seldom out of earshot of each other or so it sometimes seemed. When one ate beans the other farted. When Harvey had joined up, Madigan had signed up the next day.

Madigan had saved Harvey's life in those last days before they were both shipped out of the war zone due to their wounds. Madigan's wounds were gotten as a result of his reckless disregard for his own safety in saving Harvey and the platoon. And, it was that same reckless disregard for his own well being that had almost cost him his arm and earned him the distinguished Service Cross; only the CMH was a higher award for gallantry. The official field report read that as Harvey lay shredded by Taliban shrapnel, Madigan-finally out of ammunition-had ripped the throats out of two stinkies with his own personal Randall-model #1. The eight-inch blue-carbon steel blade was made for skewering Taliban, Madigan had said on many occasions; and, he'd proved the truth of his words more than once.

But, Madigan and Harvey were not together this afternoon. It would not have been useful for them to be. But, Harvey was being useful. His little recording device was getting every word that passed between the couple at the next table: Mark Hanson and Jessica Carlisle.

"So, how the fuck long before we can be together again?" said Mark.

"I don't know, but I'm guessing a couple of months at the least. Like I said, he's shaken and suspicious. He doesn't say he is, but he is. I'm gonna be playin' it cool until I have earned back his trust," said Jessica.

"Okay, I guess it'll have to be," said Mark. "I'll hate it, but I'll cooperate."

They talked for a little while longer, held hands across the table and kissed lightly as they left for their homes.

Harvey looked at his friend's downcast features. "I know how it is, man. It's happened to me and to a lot of us who went over there. It is what it is. You gonna kick her out."

"I don't know. She's cheatin' and continues to cheat, or plans to. I guess I don't have much choice. I either kick her out or make plans to live with it because it's clear to me that she won't stop. Whatever he's got it has to be better than what I got, I suppose.

"You know the irony is that I think she still loves me. She just wants to have her cake and eat it too, as it were. How would you handle it Harv?" I said.

"She'd already be gone if it was me," he said. You found her in bed with the asshole once already. Her planning to do it again, or rather continue to do it, is more than insulting to you, and you goddamn well know it."

"Yeah, I suppose. I guess I'll confront her tonight and get it over with. Did you make a copy of that recording?" I said.

"Yeah, better than that. I have video of it too. It just shows them sitting there talking, but watching them, and hearing them at the same time, you can see how much they are longing to be together. You need to just let them," he said. I nodded.

"You gotta protect yourself first though, Madigan. Clean out your bank account. Move any and all assets the hell outta her reach-and his.

"Yeah, I suppose," I said.

I knew she'd gone shopping after her little meet up with her lover. I was waiting in the front room when she got back; she'd called ahead to let me know she'd be home shortly. Harvey had left no more than twenty minutes earlier, but he wouldn't be far away.

I heard the backdoor open and slam shut. She must have kicked it; she was always doing that when she had an armload of groceries.

I listened while she put things away in the kitchen. She hadn't called out to me to help her. Well, what the hell, I just waited.

"Oh! Madigan, there you are," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Well, mister, you coulda come and helped with the groceries," she said.

"Yeah, it might have saved some wear and tear on the backdoor," I said. "Anyway, I have something for you to see. Come here, have a seat." She did and put her arm around my shoulder. I punched the play button on the remote. The image of the bar immediately came into view with her and good 'ole Mark seated at the table.

"It took you long enough," she said.

"Couldn't help it. This is the city, and this time of day traffic is at best challenging," he said.

"Then leave earlier," she said.

"How you doing?" he said, ignoring her pique.

"Treading water. He's trying to figure out what to do. I have to go slow and try and help him find his balance. He's hurting real bad, and I don't blame him. Your words, my words, must have killed him," she said.

"Yeah, I guess so. But there is no way we knew he'd be there like that. Shit, even I feel sorry for the guy; and I'm the one that wants to get into his wife's pants," he said…

Jessica Carlisle's face was ashen. She pulled her arm from around my neck. "Madigan…"

"Yeah, I know you're sorry. Let it go, Jessica. I just stayed to let you know why I was leaving. We're done now. You never intended to be true to me. I was fooling myself, and I guess I really knew it the day I got back; I just tried to convince myself that maybe just maybe, well like I say, I was foolin' myself. I do have a question or two though, I mean if you think you can be honest at least this once," I said.

"Madigan, I -I-okay, I'll try," she said. She was fighting back genuine tears of regret.

"Why? Was it just the size of my cock, I mean really?" I said.

She hesitated before answering. "Yes. You're so small, Maddy. In every other way I love you more than any other man in the world. It's just-well-I need… " she was starting to cry.

"Yeah, I get it, you need more than I got," I said. She just sniffled. "Helluva thing. Married just four years and my life has already gone all to hell. Helluva thing.

"Last question. Why all the trash talking about me. I didn't do anything to you. Why the two of you gettin' off trash talking me?"

"No good reason. He doesn't know you. He doesn't care about you. He just does it-I don't know, maybe to make himself feel big or tough or something; I don't know," she said.

"Yeah, but you join in with him, and you do know me. So?" I said, and waited.

"I suppose to make him feel bigger than he is. He was never in the military. He knows you were. He knows you're a tough guy. I guess I didn't want him to feel-inadequate," she said.

"You mean like the two of you have made me feel inadequate, that about it?' I said.

She devolved into sobbing big time now. I watched her for a moment. Strangely, I felt nothing-yet. It was over. I got up and went into the hallway, retrieved my one bag, and went outside. Harvey saw me and pulled up to the curb, popped the trunk, and helped me put the bag inside. We drove off.

We made a beeline for the small local hotel where I would be staying for the next couple of weeks. I would be taking care of the little transfers that Harvey had coached me to take care of in the morning. I didn't have that much to do, so it would be no problem getting it done.

I was sad and sick and lonely as hell, and I'd only been broken up with her for a few hours. Jesus the suddenness of it was awful. I'd gone from hopeful to despairing in less time than it took to say it.

After taking care of business in the morning. I headed back to the hotel. The hotel was called the Morning Star, don't know why. It's main virtue was its compactness. It had a quiet bar in the back. The bartender was a looker of maybe thirty-five. Over the next few days I heard all about her life and family. She was Filipina and like most Filipina ex-pats, she was helping to support a number of brothers-mostly lazy bums-back in the mother country. She was worth her salt as a barkeep, offering me moral support in my hour of need. And I was needy. Needy as hell.

Over the next several weeks and months it began to really mess me up, the memories. A man gives everything, his heart, to his woman and then she pisses on it like it was nothing. The anger wouldn't go away. The hurt wouldn't go away. I was becoming demoralized; it was affecting my job. My job. I had a job as counter help in a computer appliance outlet. I was able to sit most of the time which allowed me to not be on my legs all day, something that was almost impossible for me as yet.

The job didn't pay much, but with my military disability, which had finally kicked in, I was at least able to support myself.

The divorce was final a seven months later and I went out with Harvey and got stinkin' drunk. Even got into a fight. My rehab had been pretty successful, I guess; it didn't hurt to hit the guy. I didn't win it, neither did the other guy. We were both so blasted that most of our manly punches were air-punches. We sure did kill that air though. Harvey couldn't stop laughing. Later my opponent bought me a drink and I returned the favor a short time later.

I was shortly after that that I was fired. You can't be late because of drunkenness twenty-one days in a row and hold a job. Well, what the fuck, I didn't give a damn anyway. My disability pay was at least enough to keep me in whiskey and pay the rent and lights.

I'd been able to get a small apartment in a one story building; I was not going to do any stair climbing that I didn't have to. The place was in a tacky part of town, a far cry from my old house-our old house. I gave her that. But, I gave her little else. No alimony no piece of my military benefits. To her credit she didn't fight me over any of that. We did have a little money in the savings and checking; I gave her that too.

At any rate, after all was said and done; I was sad, lonely, heartbroken, and without any goals or hopes. And, I was again out of a job.

After being fired I had fallen to sleeping, occasionally eating out, and drinking. It was a masterful plan I had, to feel sorry for myself until I died. That'd show 'em!

My arm had healed okay and was pretty much back to normal size by the time the divorce had become final, but I had lost some fifteen pounds of overall body weight and at five-eight and one-thirty, I was looking pretty frail. Hell, I was frail. I looked more like some pimply-assed junior high school kid than a veteran of foreign wars.

I was sitting under a tree in a nearby park trying to catch my breath. I'd just got done eating the burger I'd gotten from one of the local fast food eateries, and I had been headin' back to my place. But the half mile walk had drained me, no doubt due to my incredible propensity of consuming significant amounts of bonded alcohol. Anyway, I was kickin' back for a few. I must have closed my eyes for a few minutes because the voice startled me.

"Madigan. Madigan. Wake up," she said. I lifted my head and at first didn't recognize her.

"Jess? Jessica? What are you doing here? We're divorced as I recall," I said.

"Madigan, what are you doing to yourself? What's the matter with you! You look like shit," she said.

"Yeah, and my dick isn't any bigger, either," I said, mimicking melancholy.

"Damn it! Those remarks are going to follow me forever, aren't they," she said, seeming frustrated at my quick wit.

"Not if you leave me alone," I said. "I'm sure super stud can make you forget all about me. But, at the risk of repeating myself, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I-I-heard you weren't doin' too good, and I was worried about you. That's all," she said.

"You're kiddin' right. You fuck me over and then worry about me! You gotta be kiddin'," I said.

"You were my husband for four years. I worry about you. And, you're being an asshole doing this to yourself," she said.

"I can always depend on you to make me feel worse than I did yesterday, can't I," I said.

"I'm sorry, Madigan. You're right. I have no right to be here. And, even less right to call you names. I'll go I guess. It was a mistake," she said. She rose and started to walk off.

"Good-the fuck-bye," I called after here. She didn't turn around; she just walked a little faster to escape me.

One minute later, she was back. "Like I said Madigan, I'm sorry for calling you names. But, buster, you need to get a life. Forget about the two assholes, who screwed you over, and move on. Now, I'll go. That's all I wanted to say." She turned again and walked off. This time she didn't return.

I was seething. Who the hell was she to tell me to get a life! She'd stolen mine and I wasn't gonna be gettin' it back. Who the fuck was she!

Harvey was sitting two stools down from me. I figured it was because of the way I smelled. But I don't know what his beef was; it was only Wednesday and I'd taken a full shower just last Sunday. Fuck him.

Jennifer, the pretty Filipina bartender, put another shot of Old Overholt in front of me. It was my third. The third of the five I would usually consume before staggering back down the street to my $350 per month hovel.

"So, you gonna drink yourself to death?" said my good bud.

"You gotta better idea?" I said.

"Yeah," he said. "Why dontcha be a man instead of a mouse. She's gone and you ain't gettin' her back. So, let it go."

Jennifer smiled at me. "You always got me, Madigan." That surprised me.

"You don't want a little dicked asshole drunk like me, Jennifer, tempting though your offer is," I said.

Harvey was staring. Not at me but past me. I turned to see what it was that was holding his interest.

"I swear to God I did not know you were here," she said. "I'll find another bar." She started to leave.

"No, no. Don't leave on my account, Jessica dear. A bar is neutral territory. We can just ignore each other and you can watch me cry and whine and drink a lot. Right, Harvey," I said turning to my mesmerized friend.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. Harvey was clearly not thrilled to have the extra company.

"Well, we can both cry in our beer," she said. "Your rival dumped me, just yesterday, for some teenybopper with more substantial, as he said to me-assets." She burst into tears. I handed her my still virgin clean handkerchief. She took it.

"Thank you," she said. "Now, I know how you felt about-about-about my comments. In a way, I'm glad he said those things to me. The way I figure it they're my just punishment for the things I said about you."

"Yeah, well, don't beat yourself over the head about it. Trust me things'll get worse in a very short time," I said.

"Wonderful," she said. "Something to look forward to. You gonna buy a lonely woman a drink?"

"Jen, get the lady whatever," I said. "Nothing I'd like better than to see her sink as low as I have." Jennifer brought her the same as I was drinking without even asking her what she wanted. She downed it in a trice.

"Whoa," I said. "You're the man." I was looking at her with mock admiration as she placed the shot glass down and pushed it toward the bartendress who was almost in front of her.

"Another," she said.

One thing about sitting at a bar drinking oneself into a stupor: wait long enough and somebody with even worse problems will show up to make you feel a little bit better. Watching her suffer actually did make me feel almost-well-good. But, on the other hand, she was pitiable too. Yeah, yeah I know let her die of gangrene brought on by a serious case of rapidly developing leprosy. Well, fuck it, I just couldn't hate her.

I was on my fourth and more or less at the nursing stage drink-wise. She on the other hand was looking at the bottom of her third, but she'd started after me. Harvey was drinking beer, so he figured to last longer than us and our shot's of Rye.

"So whaddya gonna do now that your single again?" I said. Well hell, I was an interested party wasn't I?

"I don't know," She said. "You wouldn't be interested in a slightly used whore of a wife, would you?"

"You can't be serious," I said.

"Why not? I'm not talking about marriage, but I need somebody to fuck me and you need somebody to fuck, right? Or, are you chasing bar maids these days?" she nodded in the direction of Jennifer.

"Hmm, well, actually I had thought about checking out Jennifer. But, anyway, with my little dick she'd probably chase me off as soon as I dropped my pants. I mean you did," I said.

"Madigan, please. Your dick is fine. Small or not, it does the job. Cut me a little slack will you. I was an asshole. I admit it. I was wrong I admit it. I'm desperate, and I admit that too. I need somebody to love me, to hold me, to let me cry on his shoulder," she was crying now. "Hell, Madigan, everybody makes mistakes. Everybody makes bad choices. I'm no different, just more pathetic maybe."

Okay, I was feeling sorry for her-and maybe a little for me too. I almost made the mistake of giving in. But I was saved. By who? Why by the asshole that dumped her, Mark Hanson. Who said that that life wasn't stranger than fucking fiction-no pun intended; it sure as hell was.

He came striding into the bar like he owned the place. He took the seat on the other side of her.

"Hey girl, wanna get out of here so we can talk?" he said to her. I just smiled and raised my glass to him. He sneered; that pissed me off. Harvey, not a small man and also one with a lot of killing skills, slid off his seat.

"He's my bud," said Harvey. "You wanna mess with him, you mess with me, and you don't wanna do that."

"Fuck off Jerko," said the asshole. Harvey covered the five steps it took to reach the other guy's barstool and didn't hesitate. He slapped him so hard it knocked him clean off his seat. He landed on his butt flat on the floor.

"Madigan!" screamed Jessica. I looked at her like she was nuts.

"I didn't hit him," I said unnecessarily. "Jennifer you're cleaning these stools too damn good at night; the gentleman just slid off onto the floor and got the seat of his pants all dirty."

"Sorry, Madigan," said Jennifer. "I'll try to remember not to be so thorough next time."

"Well, okay, then," I said. Harvey was smiling and standing over the fallen asshole looking real smug.

"Well, Jessica? Him or me tonight?" I said. She smiled wanly and kissed me on the cheek.

"I'm sorry Madigan. I really am," she said. Oddly, I wasn't fuming. I knew he would be screwing her over soon enough and then she'd have time to reflect on yet another of her bad choices.

"No, problem, Jessica. But, the next time you come around needing a shoulder, and you will-well-you might wanna cast a little wider net; I won't be there," I said.

They left together him rubbing his still stinging cheek, her holding his arm.

I looked over at my bud. "It looks like stud muffin must have struck out with the teenybopper," I said.

"Looks like," said Harvey.

"You know, Harvey, she gave me an idea," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, Jennifer, you married?" I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Are you married? I have a reason for asking," I said. She looked at me funny.

"No. Was, but the asshole cheated on me," she said, "so I kicked his worthless ass out."

"A four-inch dick too small to interest you," I said. Her eyes got big.

"What the hell?" she said.

"You heard me," I said.

"Are you asking me out?" she said. "The reason I want to know is because no man whomsoever, that I have ever met, has had a worse pick up line than you."

"I'll bet," I said. "What about it?"

"A four-inch dick, huh? Do you do oral?" she said pushing her face very close to mine and whispering.

"Fuckin'-A," I said.

"Then your miniature tool will be fine, stud," she said. I actually rubbed my hands together. Harvey was smiling his approval.

Jennifer moved in a week later. We married six months later. She delivered a year and half after that.

Harvey it seems was not done sleuthing. He discovered that Jessica had indeed made another of her bad choices. Stud muffin beat her up. He was arrested for abuse and spent six months in the can. Bad news for Jennifer; she was carrying his kid. Bad choices can sure pile up.

I eventually used the GI bill to get educated, I got my B.S. in Computer Science in three years time. The money got better; the job more challenging. And life improved dramatically for me. Helluva thing.

I didn't see or hear anything more about Jessica for some thirteen years, and then it was a sort of an accident. I'd continued my education over that time, and now held a Ph.D. in Computer Engineering; I was doing quite well, frankly. As a result I was among several others who were hosted by WGRM TV. It was featuring success stories of GI veterans; I was one of the ones picked.

We were on the stage taping, and it became my turn to speak. The moderator was asking me a question about my personal life. I mentioned that I was divorced remarried and had an eleven year-old daughter. The asshole kept pressing me about my divorce, and as I answered his questions, I noticed a woman get up in the third row back and run up the aisle and out of the theater; it was Jessica. My smile faded; the moderator got the message, and moved on.

I wondered about what would have brought Jessica to the theater that day. I later learned that we "honored guests" had been featured in the local newspapers, and our names published. For the record Harvey was with me that day on the stage. He'd seen her too. And, as luck or the design of the gods would have it, he had changed careers too and was now an investigator for an insurance firm; he'd noticed Jessica at the same time I did. He'd looked over at me, and I'd shrugged.

I kept wondering about my ex-wife in those next few days, but didn't do anything about it-water under the bridge. We, Harvey and I, were sitting in a local bar, more or less upscale, a week later when he hit me with it.

"You been thinking about her?" he said.

I knew what, or who, he was talking about, and he knew I knew; and I knew I couldn't bullshit him. "Yeah, some. You know, it would be good to know what happened to her. I'll never forget her. I can't hate her; I just can't. She damn near killed my heart, but I can't hate her. I'm just lucky that Jennifer was there to pick up the pieces," I said. He nodded his understanding.

"I checked up on her," he said.

"What the fuck? Why would you do that? I don't want to be buttin' into her life," I said, "or you either."

He shrugged and changed the subject. The game was on the screen, and "tailback-U" had unleashed its rushing corps and was killing the Longhorns 31-6.

I kept looking at him wondering when he was going to tell me about Jessica, but he'd clammed up. It was up to me.

"Okay, what did you find out," I said.

"Thought you didn't want to butt into her life?" he said, all but laughing at me.

"Fuck that," I said. "Give."

"She'd read about you being on TV with all of the rest of us medal winner success stories. She got some tickets and came to watch. For the record, she still loves you; she just never could get around your…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said. "Get to the stuff about her will yuh!"

"Nuthin'. She just came and watched. But, when you started to talk and that idiot kept asking questions about the divorce, she lost it and had to leave. Like I said, I guess there's still something there," he said.

"And you know all of this how?" I said.

"She told me," he said.

"What the fuck! You talked to her?" I almost yelled.

"Yes." He said. I took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay, how is she doing?" I said.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" he said.

"Huh?" I said. Harvey raised his left hand, and I heard a rustling behind me. Jessica was standing right there. I was sitting with my mouth hanging open.

"I think I'll visit the boys at the bar," said Harvey, and he up and abandoned me to my fate.

"Hello, Jess," I said. My tone was tentative. It had been a long time.

"Hello, Madigan," she said. "May I have a seat?" I motioned her to sit.

"How are you, Madigan. I saw you in the studio, but you know that right?" she said.

"Yeah, I saw you leave. My moment of glory, and you cut country, "I said, half laughing. She smiled a half smile.

"So what are you doing these days," I said.

"I work as a checker in a supermarket. My husband is a manager for the same chain I work for, different store though. Two kids a boy and a girl, one in junior high and one in grade school. Live not too far from here," she explained. "You?

"I mean, I heard what you said on that TV show, but… " she said.

"Yeah, I'm doing good. Have my own computer software firm. Still married to Jen. One daughter. Live around here too; well, a few miles down the road," I said.

"Your husband? Mark Hanson?" I said. This one I was really interested in.

"My God no! That asshole put me in the hospital over nothing. He just got mad and beat the hell out of me. I would never have gone back to him or anyone else after something like that," she said. "No, my husband is a good man-like you actually." She noticed me hesitate and look down.

"Madigan, can we not be talking or even thinking about cock size," she said. "I was an idiot. I know better now. I didn't then. Please can we just not go there anymore." She knew exactly what I'd been thinking when she had said that her new hubby was just like me.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess," I said. "It-it's-it's just hard to get by something like that." She nodded, and now "she" looked down.

"I am genuinely sorry Madigan for everything. I'm glad you and your wife are doing well," she said.

"Thanks, I said. I had a thought. "Jess, my company is having a big ass fiesta next weekend at Fernando Park. I'd like to invite you and your family. No reason for us to be strangers. Water under the bridge and all."

She looked at me and was obviously thinking. "Okay," she said. "Maybe. I'll have to ask Jimmy. But, maybe."

We talked a little longer, mostly notebook stuff about our kids. Then, as if on cue-the man had a sense about things-Harvey returned and broke up our little confab. We said our goodbyes and reconfirmed the "maybe" about the fiesta.

"Well," he said.

"I oughta be pissed at you, Harvey, for setting me up," I said. "But… " I explained to him the tentative plans. Later that evening I explained the same things to Jennifer. I was curious about me ex and Jennifer understood; God how I had lucked out getting a woman like her on the rebound-one in a million.

-----------------------------

   Series:Marci and Mickey
   Author:Matt Moreau
  Chapter:1 - Marci and Mickey
   Teaser:She sins, he pays, he reaps
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/59687/marci-and-mickey
Published:2009-03-07
Marci trembled. She'd killed him. She'd actually killed him with his own gun. Marshall Whitcomb had been blackmailing her for sex for over a year. Today had been the last straw. The pictures he had were damning. That she'd lain with him that first time, fucked him, was not the issue for her. The issue was that he'd filmed it and had demanded she service him ever since. He'd taken her almost weekly since that first mistake, but today she had determined to cut him off even if he did show the pictures to Mickey.

He'd taken her, laughed and fallen asleep secure in the belief that she was helpless to deny him. The gun had been in the dresser drawer; she'd seen it more than once over the past months. It had been a simple matter of getting up from beside him while he snored, getting the gun, and firing it once into his chest; he'd never moved after that. Now she trembled. She stared at the reddening sheets.

The gun lay on the floor where she'd dropped it. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. There was nothing for it. She had to call the police. It would be the end of her, her seven year marriage to a wonderful and kind man, a man she'd betrayed, an end to everything she loved. She'd considered killing herself, but it wasn't in her to do it.

Mickey, her husband, would leave her; she knew it. But, she at least wanted him to know the truth from her mouth before they hauled her off to prison or death row or wherever her last days would be spent. The tears came now. She was afraid and sad and guilty and despairing. She went to the phone and dialed.

"Mickey?" she said, as he answered. She sobbed and talked and somehow managed to get him to understand that she needed him now. He'd have to leave work and come to her. She needed him at least this one last time. It was bad, she said, very bad.

I sat on the arm of the chair and looked over at my stricken wife.

Oh, for the record, I'm Mickey O'Rourke. Age twenty-nine. I've been an electrician almost since I left high school when I was apprenticed to my uncle Donald. If it matters, I'm five-seven, maybe one-sixty, and average in every other respect. Likewise, if it matters, Marci is also five-seven, but one-ten, and darling in every way. Her longish brown hair, dark eyes, and very female build make her the envy of her peers. She is the love of my life.

The love of my life has cheated on me. Not once but over the course of almost a year. She'd thought to play just once, as she said, but had been caught up in a scheme by her black lover to blackmail her into continuing to service him. Now, he was dead, and I was faced with a decision.

I could feel tears rolling down my own face as I came to the only decision I could. Marci could not go to prison; it would kill her. I looked around for anything that might undermine the story that I would be telling the cops.

I felt strange. At that moment, I knew, I'd never loved this woman more. She needed me.

"Marci, this is the way it's going to play out. You will do exactly what I say. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir," she said, still sobbing.

"You will tell them exactly what I tell you to tell them and not another thing. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir," she said. Jesus, I thought, this is going to be hard.

Over the next minutes I laid it out for her. Her eyes got big when she realized what I was saying and my reasons for saying it. "No!" she said. "You can't. I did it not you. I'm the one that cheated, not you!"

"Marci, we will get the minimum if I plead temporary insanity. I'll do some time, but I will get out in a few years and we can start over. The way you did it; it could go down as murder-one that must not happen. I need you. We'll be apart for a while, but in the long run my way is best.

"Remember, what I say now. I caught you in bed with him, saw his gun on the night stand, picked it up and shot him in a moment of rage! Am I clear?"

"Mickey! No!"

"Yes, damn it. The cops will be here soon. Do not deviate from this story or we're both done. Got it," I said. She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. I was sick at heart on any number of levels, but I had to do this for her and for me. Don't ask me about the logic of it. It just had to be.

She was still holding me tightly as the cops separated us. They cuffed me, read me my rights, and manhandled me out the door to the waiting cruiser. Marci was screaming at them to be gentle with me, but they ignored her. The dead man was a cop.

Marci was a good witness, and my lawyer Elsie Cass, was able to get me manslaughter with extreme provocation: I saw them fucking and lost it was the gambit. I was sentenced to ten years in state prison. There was the hope that I could be paroled in seven years.

I was allowed a visit with my wife while waiting to be transported upstate two days hence.

"Marci, for godssake quit the crying. I need to talk to you," I said.

"Okay," she said, but she continued bawling.

"Look, I'll be okay. We'll write, and maybe you could visit me once in a while. Okay? It's kind of a long drive, but once in a while," I said.

"Every month, my husband, every month. I promise," she said.

I smiled. I hoped she would. But, I knew it was going to be hard on her. We would lose the house. She didn't make enough to keep it. But, she'd be able to get by. I was sure of that. And when she visited I would advise her. I knew she'd listen to me. She needed me still, even with me behind bars. And there was still the mail, I knew she'd write me.

My first exposure to prison life assured me that I had done right to take the fall for her; she could not have survived it. For that first year, she did indeed visit me every month. The visits were poignant. She assured me she was fine and refused to consider moving out of the house. She said she'd work extra to make the payments. I could see she was worried though. Something seemed not right, but then, she was under a lot of pressure. It was clear to me that my being inside was tougher on her than it was on me.

About the middle of my second year of incarceration, she began to miss our visitation schedule. She wrote me each time that she was working overtime to keep the house. I couldn't fault her for that. We loved the house, but I did miss her visits.

By the third year her visits were down to three times for the entire year: our anniversary month, my birthday, and Christmas. Things stayed like that thereafter. She was always apologetic and made few meetings we did have as much about me as possible.

It was Thanksgiving of year six that I caught a break. The prisons were too full. The governor was releasing inmates not considered a threat to the community. I was paroled. It was so sudden that I had had no time to even inform Marci. But, I decided that I wanted it that way. I would surprise her.

The warden literally kicked me out two days before thanksgiving. I'd be home for turkey and mashed potatoes. God, how I was looking forward to that.

There were several cars parked in the driveway and on the street in front of my house. I was all smiles.

Entering the front door, I noticed a crowd of people I didn't know. They looked me up and down. Some nodded others went back to their business. I headed into the kitchen. The scene I witnessed made my blood run cold.

She didn't see me at first. His hands were all over her ass. She broke the kiss. She saw me. "Mickey!"

I stood there stunned. I'm sure my mouth was hanging open. "Marci? Marci! What the hell!" I said. I was beginning to lose it.

The man looked at me and didn't exactly smile, but he looked-glad. "Mr. O'Rourke, I presume," he said. "Glad to see you're out. It makes things a lot easier. Marci and I have some things to tell you."

I just stared at him. He came toward me and offered me his hand. I looked at it and slugged him. The fight didn't last long, but I won. Well, I won the fight. I also got a free ride back to the pen. A half dozen witnesses testified that I'd punched first and stomped on his face when he was down. Well, they didn't lie. I wanted to kill the bastard.

Marci had screamed just as she had that last day with her former lover. She screamed again this time as they cuffed me and hauled me away to serve out what figured to be the rest of my term.

I'd made the papers. "Con beats man half to death." Not, exactly true, but Mr. Howard Willens would be eating mostly liquid meals for a while.

In county jail waiting to be transported yet again, Marci tried to see me. I refused. There was no point in it. Our life together was over. At least my lawyer, Elise Cass, without me even being present, was able to dissuade the judge from adding on to my sentence. She was also able to reinstate my potential for parole. That turned out to be a lucky break for me. I was again released a bit more than a year later. But, this time, I didn't go home; I didn't have one.

Marci had driven up to see me at Christmas, but I wouldn't see her. Let her rot. She dumped on me, and that was that. I did get a few letters from her. I was going to send them back, but I read them-call me curious. Her loverboy had moved in with her. It had initially been the idea for him to pay rent and thereby we'd save the house. But, she'd fallen for him, and she was sorry-blah-blah-blah! She was going to divorce me and marry him; she hoped I'd understand. She still loved me, but we both had to move on. Not a word about the sacrifice I'd made. I wondered if her asshole lover knew the truth; I doubted it.

I seethed at night, but only for a while. I refused to feel sorry for myself. I'd done a good deed, I told myself, and I could feel good about myself for that.

It was a few days after thanksgiving this time before I was released. Elsie, my lawyer, and now my friend, had gotten me a job. I was good at what I did after all. I'd been useful in the prison too, not too many electricians there, and hell I was free labor.

I was working for a good guy, Rob Cranston. The pay was a bit below the union scale I used to get, but what the hey, beggars couldn't be choosers, right? I'd been working for a few months before my lawyer, whom I'd only seen a couple of times since the day after my release, dropped by my current work site.

I saw her first. She was dressed in a beige skirt and black short-sleeved blouse. Her long black hair was curly and seemed to bounce as she walked. She looked gorgeous; well, I hadn't had a woman since getting out, and for those of you who don't know it, women are in short supply in prison. I suppose I could have found a whore somewhere, but that would've violated my parole if I were caught, so I had pretty much decided I'd just have to wait until I clicked with somebody, and that hadn't happened so far.

She waved to me as she neared. "Hi, Mickey," she said. The tone of her voice brightened my day.

"Hi lady lawyer," I said. "You know you're in hard hat area don't you?' I said. "Let's go over there by the office."

The construction office was near the gate. I leaned back against the trailer that served as the control center for the project we were involved in. "So ma'am, what can I do for you. I know I haven't done anything wrong, right?"

"No, no, you're fine. I just wanted to see how you were doing. Got time for lunch?" she said.

"Give me about half an hour, and yeah," I said. "There's diner a block over." I nodded off down the street.

"Good. I'll meet you there in a half," she said.

"Okay," I said. She smiled, touched my arm and strode off in the direction of her car.

The diner was so fiftyish. Hell, there were pictures of Elvis and Humphrey Bogart on the walls. I loved it.

"So how is the job going?" she said.

"Real good actually. Pay's not bad, and the boss likes me. No complaints," I said. "But, changing the subject, what are you doing here? Not, that the scenery is all that bad," I said, leering at her and smirking my smirkiest.

She smiled. "Glad to hear it. I've wanted to come around to see you. But, I figured you needed time to adjust. I know how hard it can be for a guy just getting out of that place," she said. I waited to hear more.

"Anyway, I was interested to know if you'd like to go to dinner this Friday evening," she said.

To say I was surprised just wouldn't cover it. "Dinner?" was my brilliant reply. "Friday's the day after tomorrow."

"Yes dinner, you know, a date. And, I guess you must have majored in calendar; Friday is indeed the day after tomorrow." she said. I looked at her like she was something from outer space.

"Uh-uh-a date?" I said.

"Yes, you know, that girl-boy thing," she said. "A formal meeting where you open the car door for me and help me with my chair. You know, a date." She was laughing.

I was nodding. "Hell yes," I said. "I'm not even gonna ask why. If you need me tonight I will be at church thanking God for the biggest surprise of my not all so wonderful life." Now, she really was laughing.

There was no possible way this woman could be interested in me. But, what other possible reason could there be? It sure as hell wasn't my money. I was gonna go with the flow.

The Riot wasn't. It was a very high class bistro that Elsie had insisted on taking me to. The food was great, and the dancing was of the mellow variety, which was a good thing; I hadn't exactly had much practice in recent years.

It was maybe 10:00PM when she laid it on me. "Heard from your ex," she said.

"No, I mean just the papers last year telling me she was dumping me for something better," I said.

"Dumpin' you yes, but for something better is arguable. You didn't kill that guy did you?" she said.

I looked at her. My heart sank in that moment. She was here on business, not because she thought I was sexy. I should've known. I took inventory. I'm short, I'm an ex-con, I'm makin' but four bills a week, and I'm possessed of less than thrilling social skills. "So that's it. I mean this date. It's not me you cared about it's just the law. I think I'll be going. Have a nice evening, and thanks for all you've done for me," I said, getting up to go.

"Sit your butt down, buster," she said. "You are exactly wrong. I am out with you because I feel something-female-for you. And, the fact that you sacrificed yourself for your woman told me that you might be the one."

"What?" I said. She wasn't making any sense.

"Sit your ass back down. I don't need an audience," she said. I did as she dictated. "You didn't did you?" I knew what she meant.

"It doesn't matter. All water under the bridge. But, again, why would you ask that?" I said.

"Your ex came to see me. She was all teary eyed. She feels like she betrayed your love for her," she said.

"She did," I said.

"Well, she confessed to me; I mean about the killing of Whitcomb. I wasn't sure I believed her, but as she continued with the story, it all began to make sense.

"You're a helluva guy, Mickey O'Rourke," said Elsie. "Mickey, I've been successful as a lawyer. I make good money. I win my cases. But, in the romance department-well, let's just say the men I've been with have not measured up. They've all been so full of themselves. They all wanted to bed me, but none ever asked what they could do for me.

"But, you. You gave your all for the woman you loved. I want that for me.

"For the record, she still has a place in her heart for you, and it isn't any phony baloney either. But, she does have her new man too, so she is torn," she said.

I think my mouth was hangin open. But, as I regained my sense of reality, what she was saying began to register. "You want me? Torn?" I said. Now, I wasn't making any sense.

"Yes, torn between her love for him and the love and the guilt she is living with relative to you. I don't envy her her life. She has to live with the knowledge of your sacrifice and her own double betrayal," she said.

"Oh, and yes, I want you."

"Elsie, I am so honored by what you are saying. But I-

"Wait, wait, she's torn you say. Yeah, well life is hard, just ask me," I said.

"Yes, I guess you would know about that wouldn't you," she said.

"Damn straight," I said.

"She wants to meet with you and talk to you," she said.

"What? Why? She has what she needs. I wasn't good enough for her, so what's her problem. If she feels guilty about double-crossing me, tough. I've been trying to get over it, and I almost have. What would I get out of listening to her tell me how she couldn't help herself, that it just happened, that I'm a wonderful guy, that I didn't deserve to be screwed over like I have been. No, just tell her, no," I said.

"Okay, I'm just the messenger. Anyway, let's dance," she said. I smiled and thought to myself, maybe tonight. Nine years of going without a woman. Oh, my how would I handle it.

The ride to her home, a nice but modest three bedroom ranch style in the Valley, was quiet. The night at the Riot had been fun, and now I was actually in the car, with a woman, on the way to her house-to play house.

She ushered me into the front room and told me to have a seat and wait there for a minute. I obeyed her.

She disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with two glasses of white wine. I stood. She handed me mine. "To us," she said and we tilted glasses.

"For sure," I said. Things were stone quiet as we sipped our wine and looked at each other. "Elsie, it's been a while. I mean, I don't know if…"

"They say it's like riding a bicycle, Mick. You never really lose the skill."

I was feeling giddy. I mean really giddy. Maybe even silly. "Elsie?"

"Yes?" she said, so softly I could almost not hear her.

"If I fell down on my knees, would it be all right if I kissed the front of your dress," I said. She laughed so hard she spewed wine all over the front of me.

"Only if you lift it first and pull my panties down," she said. I was on my knees and staring at the great mystery of life in seconds. Her pussy was shaved clean. This was a truly hot momma!

I kissed her slit and then I kissed it again. I had to hold her still as she started to sway.

"That's tickles," she said. I sucked her into my mouth. I didn't notice her sliding the spaghetti straps on her dress down from her shoulders. I looked up and her pouty breasts were among the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I pulled her down to me. I gently laid her down on the carpet.

I felt her breasts and sucked first one nipple and then the other into my mouth. I fantasized about her mothering me, suckling me. Her little hands caressed my face and hair. She rolled me over on my back and unbuttoned my shirt. She followed that by unbuckling my pants and pulling them down. She felt my hardness through the fabric of my skivvies.

She pulled it out. She stroked it for some moments and them bent forward and took the knob in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it and began to suck me off. It took me less than a minute for me to detonate. I sucked air. I couldn't talk. I exploded inside of her mouth and she took it all.

"I wanted to get you off once before you fucked me," she said. "I want you to last a while."

Now, I was worried. She had expectations, and I was not at all sure I could meet them. But, by God I was going to try.

She teased me up again, and I went down on her getting her as wet and ready as I could. I rolled on top of her and began poking at her slit. I was not doing well. She took hold of my cock and aimed to true. I pushed, she pushed, I thrust; I was in. I waited a moment and began screwing her. I have had few moments like that in my whole life. Soon I was drilling her. I did last and she did come. I wondered if Job had had a night like this in his latter days.

I rolled off of her and we both rested for a bit. "I want to take you from behind," I said. "Would that be all right?"

She smiled and giggled. "I love it when a man masters me from behind," she said. "Do me."

She presented her butt to my worshipful gaze. I leaned in and kissed her ass. First her cheeks then her anus. I licked her. I pushed my tongue as much as I could into her butt. I wasn't intending to take her there. I did want to show her how much I loved her and needed her. Yes loved her. At that moment, Marci was history. She'd been my life, now she was nothing but my ordeal.

And yet, my sacrifice for Marci may have been the catalyst that made, my new woman consider me. Elsie Cass was way out of my league, but she had said she wanted me. Well by God, come hell, high water, or the German army, she was going to have me!

I positioned myself behind her and drove my cock deep into her. She grunted. "Oh yeessssss!" she squealed. "Do it! Do me! Oh God, oh God I feel it. You're in so deep." I pounded her for some minutes. The first two rounds had all but drained me, but I felt my cum rise in me. Finally I blew my load deep inside of her soaking pussy.

I made her raise her butt up higher and I began to licked and suck my juices and hers out of her. She grunted and groaned and squealed and cried; and I fucking loved it!

We fell asleep on the floor where we'd screwed. We awakened an hour or so later and she led me by my now thoroughly humbled cock into the bedroom. We didn't even shower. I didn't want to. I wanted to smell her all night not soap. Tomorrow would be a new day for me, a new day in many respects. I was sure of that.

Well, reader, you knew it wasn't gonna end there, didn't you.

Elsie was adamant. I had to talk to her. So, here I am waiting for her. She's late, she has the unbelievable nerve to be late. I looked over at my lawyer, and new girlfriend my future wife.

"She's ten minutes late. Let's go. This was a bad idea," I said, rising to do just that, go.

"Be patient? She's coming. The traffic's bad this time of day," said Elsie, smiling benevolently.

"Yeah, I can hear her now," I said. "Oh, sorry I'm late. The traffic was just awful. Well, prison was awfuler! I'm going; you can sit here and wait for her." I was half way to the door when she came storming in. She saw me up and the expression on my face must have clued her to what I was doing.

"Oh, Mickey, I am so sorry for being late. The traffic…"

"Save it Marci. You're here, so whaddya want?" I wasn't being kind.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone for a little bit.

"Mickey, give me a call when you're ready to leave. I'm going over to the pizza place and get a bite," said Elsie. I nodded.

"Oh, I can drop him, Miss Cass," said Marci. "It'd be no trouble."

"Like that's going to happen," I said. "I'll call." Elsie nodded in my direction and then she was gone.

Marci and I were still standing. She looked around and took a seat on the couch. I took the chair across from her. The silence was pregnant with something-shit came to mind.

I waited. It was her party. I was merely the reluctant guest.

"I'm sorry, Mickey. I will never really be able to forgive myself. I didn't mean it to happen. But-Howard-filled a place-in my heart. My broken heart. Broken for you."

"And your point is?" I said.

"Mickey! You're killing me! I need you to forgive me, Mick! I do." She started sobbing. The last refuge of the desperate female-tears. I wasn't moved. I waited. "Can't you say something?"

"Okay, since you asked. While he was comforting you, my wife, in my bed, I was dreaming about you comforting me when I got home. What a joke on me, right! You must have thought that one was funnier than hell; I'm sure he did," I said. "But, when I did get home, the happiest day of my life became the worst day of my life. And, to top it off, because I got angry and kicked the shit out the guy, who was making me his wimp, his cuckold, I got another fourteen months in prison. Well, you did ask."

"No! It was never like that. You're no cuckold. You have never been any kind of a wimp. We both felt awful at what happened. You were suffering and so were we," she said. She actually said that. "And, so you'll know, he doesn't blame you at all for you hurting him like that. You know he spent a week in the hospital."

"Well, dear Marci, I suffered more. Wanna hear a couple of the gory details? I was butt fucked a dozen times before I learned to fight well enough to preserve whatever dignity I had left. As you can see, I'm not very big and those big black lifers just love white pussy! I was their white pussy. While you were Howard's white pussy.

For the record, who is it, you think, suffered more?" I said.

She howled. "Miiccckkkkeeeeyyyyy! I am so awfully sorry. I know there is nothing I can do. I would do anything to make this right. To make it up to you even a little bit," she was choking on her own spit.

"Anything?" I said.

"Yes, anything. Just name it," she said. I knew there was not the slightest chance of me getting what I would have died for nine years earlier, but I wanted to push her buttons.

"Okay, here's my new cell phone. Elsie gave to me as a gift a few days ago. Call good 'ole Howie and tell him you're leaving him for me. That we're getting back together. Call him now. You can stay at my place tonight, and we'll get your things tomorrow. My place ain't much. I ain't been out long enough to get anything better. But it's dry and warm and clean," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"You heard me. I ain't speakin' Greek," I said.

"But, I can't-I mean-things are different… " she was stuttering.

"Yeah, well, I guess 'anything' means something different than before I went inside, huh?" I said. I was not making it easy for her. I had no intention of doing so.

"I talked to Howard before coming over," she said, trying to change the subject. "We want to give you your fair share of what the house is worth. Howard's got a good job; we can afford it."

"Oh, and what if you couldn't afford it? Then, it'd be just fuck over good 'ole Mickey, he'll be okay, right?

"Keep your fucking money; I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole.

"Just for the record, Marci, and I really want to know. What were you willing to do to make things right by me, as you put it? How far were you willing to go? You're not willing to marry me, to be my wife; you know, the man who would do anything-and I really do mean anything-for you. What were you willing to do," I yelled.

She had a blank look. "Well, whatever you asked, I mean whatever I could do to make you…"

"To make me happy? Well, that's not true is it because you just turned me down on that one. Was there anything at all you had in mind? I mean anything you thought I might ask for?"

"We-I-thought that maybe your share of the equity in the house. You know to give you a start," she said.

"Well let's see. How much exactly would that be," I said. "I mean we've owned it for how long?"

"Well, you made the payments for the first six years, and…"

"So six year's worth of equity. That about right?" I said. "I mean not the seventeen years you've gotten to live there."

"Well, yes, I mean Howard's been making the payments these last nine or ten years. It wouldn't be fair…"

"Did you actually say that? I mean that it wouldn't be fair to him for me to have more than six years worth of equity from the house? Let me ask you. How fair has he been to me, Marci dear?"

"I-I-I see what you're saying, Mickey. Let me talk to him. I will get you more; I promise. How would that be?" she said.

Now, reader I may be just a tradesman, but I am not an idiot-well, actually the jury may still be out on that one-but I am smart enough to have the little micro-recorder I'd bought yesterday with me and running. I wanted Elsie to hear it all; I was afraid she would not believe me, my emotions about it all being what they are.

"How would that be? Well, dearheart that wouldn't be worth a fuck to me. Again, keep your fucking money." I said. "Oh, and have a nice fucking life." I pulled my cell and dialed. "I wanna leave now. I mean right now," I said into it when Elsie answered. I hung up without waiting to hear her say anything apart from the initial hello.

"Mickey, I'm not very smart, but I know I still love you, deep down apart of me still loves you. It's just that things are different now. I don't know what to do. Coming here, I thought maybe I could say or do or give you something that would make a difference. I guess I was wrong. I will never be able to make what I did to you right.

Please, my good man, my Mickey, live well; you deserve better than someone like me," she said. She was sniffling now.

"Trouble is, Marci, you were all I lived for, all I dreamed about for all of those years." The room went silent for the next few. I saw Elsie's headlights pulling in. I went outside and down to the lot to intercept her.

Elsie got out of the car, passed me, and went up the steps to her office. I watched her wondering what she was doing. She passed Marci on the steps. She went inside, turned off the lights, came out and locked the door. She returned to the car and me. Marci had just driven off.

I looked at her. "Well, you didn't think I was going to leave the place unlocked all night did you? It is my office in case you'd forgotten," she said.

I laughed. "Oh, right. No, I guess not," I said.

Elsie listened to the tape. She was as shocked at the shallowness of Marci's behavior as I had been.

"Do you want me to go after the equity?" she said. "I can get it? Hell I can probably get the whole house."

"No. The truth is the money is always going to weigh heavily on her, and maybe even him. It's worth more to me that way than having it in my hand," I said.

Elsie and I were married six months later. Marci tried to get me to talk to her a couple of times after that night. But, I had nothing left to say to her. She even called Elsie at the office and asked to get together with us for a barbecue or a night out. I have no idea what was going on in Marci's head. That one, wanting us to go out with them, surprised even Elsie. Elsie's answer had been no. But she kind of left the door open for something to happen down the line.

Marci and Howie seemed to be getting on well. I'd had visions of them crashing and burning, but it hasn't happened yet, but who knows. Life is far stranger than fiction, and anyone who thinks different has his head up his ass.

And, no, I never used the truth about who killed Whitcomb against Marci. And, I swore my wife to secrecy too. In a sense, it was the best kind of revenge. She had to live with what she'd not only done to me, but with what she did with and to Whitcomb. I knew Marci's mind set. It had to be eating at her, and it always would.

Now, a year later, my anger has abated some. I have come to feel sorry for her. I always wondered whether Howie baby knew what she'd done. I doubted it. At any rate, if he did, he didn't learn it from me.

I got the news today that Elsie is pregnant. Finally some good things are happening to me. I feel a little like old Job must have felt. I mean his world had turned to shit too, and then, after a long period of infinite patience; things turned around for him.

My conscience is clear, my heart is good, my wife is beautiful, and a little baby is about to make my day; well, in about seven months that is. Oh, and we're meeting Marci and Howie for drinks tonight. But, Elsie will be limited to her tea.

-----------------------------

   Series:Marci and Mickey
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Mickey and Howard both finally get to understand it all.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/59850/elsie-mickey-marci-and-howard-sequel-to-marci-and-mickey
Published:2009-03-22
"Why?" I said. "I'm over her. I have no need to be around her. She's got her man. I've got my woman. What on earth could be the reasoning behind wanting to socialize with them?"

"I still feel weird about this whole thing, Mick. You gave so much. You need to feel good about that at some point. I get nervous or concerned or something when I see you go pensive on me, and you do that a lot, Mick.

"I don't know if socializing with them, especially her, will help in that respect; but I think it might," she said.

"You know, Elsie, I damn near killed that guy. I would have too if I hadn't been pulled off by half of their friends. I'm not sure I can be around him and not feel the urge to harm him again," I said.

"You were provoked, Mick. Even though he may be ignorant of your sacrifice and maybe even your love for that woman, he knows he was in the wrong for fucking her while you were still inside.

"As you know I have spoken with your Marci a number of times even had lunch with her once or twice. She's pretty fragile right now," said Elsie.

"Fragile? She's fragile? Hell, Elsie, I'm fragile. You say I go pensive on you sometimes. I guess that's so. I keep remembering things, things that were done to me inside. It's not a nice place, prison," I said.

"You've not told me much about your time in there, Mickey. I mean, I know some of things that happen in there; I am a lawyer after all. At some point, maybe we do need to sit and have you talk to me. I'm your anchor my husband, and your mine. We need to be one in all ways. I hope you agree with me on that little point; it's important, Mick," she said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just have to figure how to tell you stuff. It ain't easy," I said.

******

"They're not here yet," I said. We had arrived maybe five minutes early, but half an hour later we were still waiting. Somebody's going to have to teach Marci how to tell time, I thought.

"They'll be here. Are you in a hurry?" said Elsie.

"No, it's just that I thought you two, you and Marci, were anxious for this meeting," I said.

"Hmm, anxious is not exactly the word. Needful, maybe," said my wife.

I turned and looked toward the entrance to the restaurant. "There they are," I said. "They just came in."

"Hello, Mickey," said Marci. She had a look I couldn't decipher.

"Hi, Marci, Howard," I said, standing; my voice was flat. Elsie nodded her greeting. We took our seats. It was quiet, not embarrassingly so, but tentative. Like two countries mutually suspicious and guarded, but anxious to get on with negotiations. Elsie spoke first.

"Hope you're both well," said Elsie. Shall we order?" There was a murmur of agreement among us. The food would delay the inevitable and give all of us a chance to settle in and down.

The waitress came as a result of my signal. I felt weird as hell. Here was my ex-wife sitting across from me. Sitting across from me with the man she had cuckolded me with, while I was in prison serving a term for manslaughter, a crime that "she" had committed and that I had taken the fall for in order to spare her the long years in prison that she would not have survived. Talk about strange shit!

The food came and we ate. The weather, the Republican party, and the high price of pantyhose in Bangladesh were all topics of conversation while we chowed down.

The waitress brought the after dinner coffees I'd requested. The time for dancing around the real purpose of the meeting was over.

Marci was fiddling with the spoon in her coffee cup. She always had used half a pound of sugar in her coffee. I remember regularly telling her that she didn't drink coffee; she drank candy. That always brought forth a protest from her to mind my own taste buds. I didn't mention it now.

"Well, I guess it's up to me now," said Marci. "Just so you'll all know, Howard does not know what I will be saying tonight. I never told him everything, but after tonight, he'll know it all." Well, that answered one question for me; the man who cuckolded me didn't have a clue what he'd done or who he'd married. Well, he would now, I supposed.

"Mickey, I am begging you; let me tell this my way. I've rehearsed it long and hard. I need to do this. I need to do it, and you deserve to hear it Mickey, and so does Elsie if it comes to that."

I started to say that she didn't need to say anything, but she held up her hand to short shank me. "Mick, this one is on me. You've already done all you could do for me; this one is on me."

Elsie put her hand on my arm and nodded for me to let the scene play out.

Howard looked first at his wife and then at me. He was clearly out of the loop.

"Some ten years ago, maybe a little more, I killed a man, a blackmailer. The man was a cop, Marshall Whitcomb," she said.

"What the fuck!" screamed Howard. A dozen faces looked our way.

"Howard, I love you; this is as much for you as it is for me. So just shut up and listen; this is going to be hard enough," said Marci. He glared at her, but for whatever reason, he did as she said and shut up. His eyes moved from Marci back to me then to Elsie, and finally backed to Marci. He slumped in his seat and seemed to grow distant, but his eyes remained on his wife.

"I made a mistake. I let him, Marshall, have me once. It was that wedding reception, Mickey, for Candace. You remember, my friend. You couldn't go. Some emergency and your skills were needed.

"Marshall looked very handsome. Love was in the air. We girls were talking about sex and cocks and wondering about Candace' husband. Anyway, Marshall came on to me. Some of the girls dared me. I put him and them off. I protested that I was married, and they let me alone, even Marshall-for the moment. But, the seed had been planted.

"Later that evening we'd all had a little too much champagne, he came on to me again. And, well, he took me into the back guestroom; it was being used for the coats of the guests and such. He bent me over the back of a low chair and took me. I was drunk, I think so was he. But he wasn't too drunk to pull out his small camera and shoot pics of me bent over with cum running down my leg. It was a quickie, I guess you could say. He laughed and told me it was our secret.

"It was then that I began to realize what I'd done. But, he'd said it was our secret. I convinced myself that it had just been a stupid indiscretion. No big deal. I was drunk, he was too. It would never happen again. But, it did.

"He called me a week later and told me to check my email. He'd sent me a picture of me, naked in that room with all of the coats. I was stupefied. I remembered then him taking the pictures; I hadn't really thought about them until that day when he sent them to me.

"To make a somewhat longer story short, he told me that if I'd meet him for sex on that next Tuesday noontime, that he wouldn't send them, the pictures, to you Mickey and everybody else I loved. I was stricken, frightened, and helpless.

"Well, he took me again and again during the following year. He was merciless and cruel and evil. Sex with him was an ordeal not anything any woman would want." She said.

What she'd said answered a lot of questions I had had, but had never had the opportunity to ask since I was inside. I had to say something. "Marci, it's water under the bridge. I think you needed to do this for Howard, your husband, but it's over now; let it go," I said.

Howard's eyes were glazed over. He was crying. But, to his credit, he said nothing. His head had to be in turmoil. He looked over at me, and nodded his new understanding of why I had damn near killed him those many years ago. It was his apology. I just raised a hand and waved him off.

"Howard," said Elsie, "you need to think long and hard about this, of course, but I can tell you, your wife loves you. I hope it's enough for you."

"Please, everyone, my confession just now was for Howard, my husband. But, it's not the only reason I'm here. There is something else. Something no one knows. It's taken me years to come to grips with what I am about to say, and I need you all to not interrupt. I am a very weak woman, I have proved that little truth over and over, and I need to get through this," she said.

Elsie nodded, "Go on, dear. I can imagine how hard this is for you; just go on."

"Mickey, after all you did for me. Oh my God after all you did for me! It was so much. I fucked you over, betrayed you, left you crying and filled with despair and anger and horrible hurt. And Mickey, I had to do it-for you."

"What the hell, Marci!" I said. I think I'd mentioned being confused before, but not like this.

"Mickey, please. I need to do this. You shut up too," she said. Elsie actually giggled, but just a little.

"What you did, Mick-it was too much. Too much for me to live with. I knew that someday you'd get out. I knew that you would come home to me, to your wife, your loving wife, the wife that let you take the fall for what she had done.

"I knew too, that every single day of our life together after that, that I would have to live with what had happened to you in that awful place, the place you'd saved me from. There was not the slightest doubt in my mind that eventually the pressure would become unbearable for us. You'd stick it out, I knew, but you deserved better.

"I knew I just couldn't dump on you while you were locked up like that with no hope and no one to comfort you. So, I couldn't tell you of my decision, Mickey: my decision to leave you, to let you find happiness. Selfishly perhaps, I considered it my gift to you. But, I knew you wouldn't see it that way. But, it was the right way to see it," she said.

I stared at her with a new something-respect. Her words were so logical, even self-sacrificing.

"That is why I stopped coming so often. I knew you'd see through me. I knew you'd eventually understand what I was going to do, and I couldn't face your misery over that level of what I knew you'd see as betrayal of your love for me. But, Mickey, I never betrayed your love. It was just that I didn't deserve it anymore. You deserved so much more than I could ever be to you," she said.

"My God, Mickey, I still love you. And, Howard, just so you know; I love you every bit as much as I love or ever have loved Mickey. You are a wonderful husband.

"I realize, Howard, that my coming clean here tonight may be the end of us. I couldn't blame you. But, I hope you'll take me home and still love me, and help this poor woman survive this night. And, Howard, I don't deserve you either," she said.

"Marci, I forgive you. I'm not sure I agree with what you did. I think that we could have gotten through it, pressures or no pressures, but maybe not. You just might have been right. Hell, I don't know.

"I know I'm happy now. And for the life of me, I hope you and Howard make it. I want you to make it.

"Howard, she killed a man. But, she was provoked into doing it. The evil bastard that destroyed us needed to pay. I don't doubt that he'd done the same to other women, wives, in the past," I said. I paused; Elsie filled in.

"Actually he did," said Elsie. "Marci, after you came clean to me that time-yes Howard we all knew-you were the only one in the dark." Howard's eyes had gotten big when Elsie made her pronouncement. She cut him off with a wave of her hand from making a comment too soon and unnecessarily.

"I had occasion to check up on good 'ole Officer Whitcomb," said Elsie, "He was a gnat's eyelash short of going to jail for rape on at least two occasions. He only avoided jail time because some of his brother cops covered his ass. He was not a good man. He drove Marci to do what she did."

I butted in. "And, Howard, while you were in the dark about all of this; you had some of it coming, my man. You kept me in the dark about fucking my wife while I was inside and helpless to do anything about it even if I had known. So, before you condemn your woman, if you intend to, consider your own situation before you throw stones," I said.

Marci looked over at me. The vague smile I got was one of pure love and-gratitude. "You're welcome," I said, looking right at her.

"Well, this has been a very enlightening experience for me," said Howard. His voice had a tremor in it, as well it might. "Everyone has had so many things to say. So, I would like to say something. Goodnight." He rose to go, looked over at Marci, and she rose too. He seemed to be waiting for her. He turned to go and she followed him.

"Well, that was fun," I said, about as mirthlessly as I ever said anything. I turned to my wife for directions as to what I should do or think or act like.

"I'm worried, Mickey. I want to keep in contact with them. Marci isn't doing too well in her head, I don't think. However Howard acts in the coming hours and days will tell the tale. Believe me, I've seen the signs; some bad stuff could be about to happen if he blows it," she said.

******

Howard was stunned. The evening for him had been the worst night of his entire life. He was married to a killer, sort of. Oh, she'd killed the man right enough. But the man was an evil scumbag. The question was, did that make any difference? Yes, it did, he thought. He had no clue as to how the law would look at it though. He did know that, as a lawyer, Elsie would know. Why she hadn't turned her in was the mystery. Maybe she hadn't because it was her husband's wish for her not to.

"Why now?" asked Howard, looking at her as he drove.

"It was time. It's been eating me up," said Marci. "You gonna leave me, Howard?"

"No. No. Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's all so sordid. Marci, do you still love him?"

"Mickey? Yes. But I love you too. And, I am yours and you will always be made fully aware of that. I mean if you decide to keep me," she said.

He drove. They arrived at their home, the home that used to be Mickey's and hers.

"I'm not tired," he said. "You go on up. I will be up a little later."

"Okay," she said. She hesitated at the foot of the stairs. She looked back at him. "Howard, you are coming up, right? I mean…"

"Yes, I'll be up in a little while," he said.

The sun woke her. Howard was not in bed, and had not been there. The tears began to flow. She was sure that he was thinking of abandoning her. The hurt to him had to have been more than she anticipated. Or, maybe not. She could have predicted his reaction. She was a murderer. Good reason, good cause, or not, she'd killed a man. How was Howard, gentle Howard, supposed to deal with something like that? The only logical answer had to be, badly.

He was in the kitchen when she came down. "You didn't come to bed?" she said.

"I intended to. I just fell asleep watching the late show. After last night, I just wanted something mindless to occupy me, and well, I fell asleep. It wasn't intentional. Not last night at any rate," he said.

"Not last night?" she said, hearing something in his words that frightened her.

"Yes, last night I had intended to come up, but I fell asleep; but, Marci, I think that tonight I am going to sleep in the guest room, I need to do some thinking," he said.

"Wha…?" she said. She was crying.

"It's just I feel a kinda stunned by all of this. I just need a little time to-adjust-my thinking. It's all so, I don't know, bizarre. I mean you have to admit that," he said. She nodded the stark unforgiving sadness of the moment terrible.

She stumbled her way toward the den. He headed upstairs toward the guest room.

******

"I don't know Elsie, I guess her words make sense. At least on one level. I never could figure out why she just kind of dumped me for another man. Now at least I have a kind of an answer," said Mickey.

"Yes, I feel the same way. It is 'an' answer if not necessarily the one anyone else would have thought of.

"As a lawyer I have this image of her sitting at home, while you were taking her punishment, crying her eyes out and wondering how things would go when you got out," said Elsie. "I guess all that she could come up with was not good."

"Yeah, I guess. But it would have been nice if she had just had the courage to tell me earlier on rather than lead me to believe I had a life with her waiting for me down the road, I mean when I got out," said Mickey.

Elsie snorted. "Yeah, and then had to live with your despair while you sat in your cell with no way out and in no way able to do anything about it. No, I have to agree with her on that one. On one level it was a terrible lie that she was living. On another it was a kindness of hers not to take away your hope."

"Helluva thing," said Mickey.

"Yeah, I guess," said Elsie. "Mick?"

"Huh?" he said.

"It was real bad wasn't it? I mean your time inside," she said.

"Real bad. Especially at the beginning," he said.

"Wanna tell me about it? There's never going to be a good time. You know that," she said.

"I don't know. What good would it do?" he said.

"Maybe none. Maybe a lot. I'm here for you, and sharing is what marriage is about. I mean isn't it?" she said.

"I suppose. But, some things are pretty bad, I mean about what went on in there," he said.

She headed for the couch and sat in the middle of it. He paced the room not really wanting to begin.

"The first couple of days I was in the hands of the guards and officials, me and the other new cons. But, after my routine and processing was set, they were not there anymore to protect me. After that we were pretty much on our own, and the population, I mean us cons, have to do for ourselves," he said.

"I've heard," she said. He snickered.

"Yeah, well they got me the first time about a week after I'd been in. A couple of big black guys stopped me in the shower, and gave me a choice. Hell, I had no choice," he said. She looked sympathetically at him.

"I got on my knees like I was told and sucked them both off. Then, they made me suck them to hardness again and they fucked me," he said. He started to cry. Elsie wanted to go to him, but knew she had to let him talk. She would be there for him afterwards and she would make him forget, for a little while, the horrible things that happened to him.

"Go on if you want," she said. He looked at her and decided it was time.

"They, the two of them took me several more times. Once they beat me when I refused; it was bad. I was in the infirmary for a week. But, that's when I was finally able to turn it around," he said.

"Turn it around?" she said.

"Yeah, there was a guy who worked in there who knew stuff. He helped me," he said.

"Helped you?" she said.

"Yeah, you might say he laid out the facts of life for me. He told me how to fight back. Go for the eyes, the throat, try to make it not worth it to them. I did what he said and it worked.

"I also made friends with a couple of other guys in the same boat and we hung together. I wasn't bothered after the first couple of fights," he said, and laughed. "I knuckle-punched one of those big blacks in the eye the first time he tried his shit after I got out of the infirmary and put him in there. Nobody said nuthin' to me about it either. The guy wasn't real popular," he said.

She got up and came to him. "Mick, you're safe now honey. No more pain for you."

"You know, Elsie, when they were doing me, I kept thinking of how it was going to be when I got out, how I was going to make gentle, sweet love to my wife. But then… " he ran out of words.

"I know honey, but it's all in the past now, and, well, you have me," she said. She took him by the hand and led him upstairs.

******

After she had me upstairs, she moved toward the king sized bed. She crooked a finger at me as only a woman can do, beckoning me to come to her. I hesitated. After all of the talkin' about the bad stuff, I wasn't feelin' altogether too turned on; I wasn't even sure I could get it up; that was about to change.

"Mickey, I want you to take my ass tonight," she said. "You've not done that yet. I want it. Will you do that for me?" I slowly nodded images flooding my head.

"I want to undress you," he said.

"Then do it, silly boy," she said. She giggled. Women always giggled.

I moved toward her and stopped inches from her. I touched her arm. I slid the spaghetti strap off of her shoulders, and her dress fell to the floor. Unhooking her bra, it followed the dress and pooled at her feet. I dropped to my knees; my cock was finally beginning to swell; I could feel it pressing against the front of my pants.

I pulled her panties down; her mound was bare. I needed this, I realized. She stepped back and away from me. Her hands were at her sides; her feet were together. I stared at her breasts, her nipples, the flare of her womanly hips, her slit; she was beautiful.

For a little while all of the bad we'd talked about would disappear in a universe of womanhood and her woman's body. I stood. I was still dressed, but I moved toward her and knelt down in front of her once more and kissed her nether lips. She parted her legs a little, and I forced my tongue inside of her. She backed off from me again.

"Take your clothes off," she said. I stood and did as she told me. Both naked, finally, we looked at each other for a long moment. She stared at my erection and came to me. She kissed me. She took my stick in her hand and stroked it.

I pushed her gently toward the bed and turned her around. She bent over. Her bottom completely vulnerable and exposed to me; she spread her legs wide. I knelt yet again and kissed her butt and licked her crevice. If I hadn't been sure before, I was now. Her heat ignited my own. I licked and sucked her anus and then stood. I pushed at her rosebud and she, reaching back, pulled her buttocks wide apart opening herself to me as much as she could. I gained a lodgment. I pushed in a little farther; she groaned a little.

Soon I was deep inside of her, mastering her. She rested her face on the back of her hands as I took her. The rhythm was slow and easy. She made low simpering noises as I did her. She fingered herself as I pumped away. She began to stiffen and push back at me. I think she was having an orgasm; I was for sure, and it seized me. I began to drive harder into her finally stiffening myself as I unload a sea of cum inside of her. I collapsed on top of her back flattening her onto the bedspread.

Later we laid together saying little. We spooned and she felt good in my arms. This is the way it was supposed to be, I thought. It should have been this way with Marci too. But, I had gotten lucky. Elsie would save me.

******

He went to the coffeemaker and put the coffee on. Marci would be awake soon. He'd almost gone to her during the night. But, he felt he had to have some time to think over all of the bad things, the stunningly bad things, that he'd heard in the previous couple of days. The wall clock showed it to be 9:00AM. She was never this late getting up, especially not on Sunday mornings. Fuck it, he thought. He made a decision. She'd paid for her sins, unconventionally, but she'd paid. He would support her. He headed for their room where she was evidently still asleep.

She was naked, laying half on and half off the bed. A pill bottle was on the floor next to her hand. The suddenness of the realization of what he was seeing drove all sense from him. He screamed, "Maaarrcii."

The EMT crew arrived in minutes; she still had a pulse. He had called Elsie and her ex. Now he was pacing back and forth in the waiting room cursing himself for not being with her the previous night. His tears wouldn't stop and he was wringing his hands and pounding the foot-thick waiting room walls when his company joined him.

******

"Tell me Howard, tell me now. I don't care how bad you're hurting," said Mickey.

"Easy, Mick," said Elsie seeing his concern.

"I-I-I don't know. We talked after we were with you all the other day. I kinda felt weird and slept in the guest room the next night, last night. I had to do some thinking. She seemed okay, well, at least resigned to it. But this morning-she was-she was-she was late getting up. I found her… " he started sobbing again uncontrollably.

Elsie watched the tableau play out, and saw her husband's face. He was-angry! "Calm down, my husband, please," she said.

"I spent all of those years behind bars for her, and she does something like this. Tries to throw it all away. If she survives, I am going to kick her ass from her to Mars!" I said.

Elsie was startled. "You really are angry aren't you," she said.

"Damn straight. If she'd wanted to kill herself, she could have done it before the put me in chains and locked me up! I mean dontcha think" I said. She just held me.

It was 10:00PM that night before she came around. Howard was allowed to see her, but only for a few minutes. He was a wreck.

"Hi girl," he said. She just stared at him.

"Howard, you saved me?" she said. "Seems like my husbands are always saving me." She let loose a small sob; then, she turned slightly and slept again.

He returned to the waiting room. "She's sleeping. The nurse shooed me out. I think she'll be all right. You guys go home. Thank you forever for coming. I needed that," he said. I nodded, and squeezed his arm. Elsie took mine.

"Call us when we can go in and see her, Howard. Okay?" she said.

"Yes, certainly, sure," he said. We headed out.

I was unlocking the car when Elsie spoke. "You still love her don't you," she said. There was not a hint of jealousy or concern in her voice. This was a very wise woman.

"Love her? More like care for her. But love her? You're the one I love, and don't you ever forget that, wife. I love you with all of my heart. But, I do care what happens to her. I did love her once, and that enough to sit behind bars for almost ten years. Does that make any sense at all?" I said.

Elsie was crying as we slid into the car. "Damn straight it does," she said.

******

I stood back while Howard kissed her and showered her with the affection that she was going to need in order to mend her soul. I decided that this was the time.

"Howard, I know how you feel. But, could I have a few minutes alone with Marci? She and I have some unfinished business. Elsie?" I said.

The two spouses, mine and Marci's looked at each other. They nodded to each other and then to me and left. We could still see them outside in the hallway through the glass partitions.

I looked down at my ex and sighed. "Marci, I still care for you, and I want you to not only know that, but understand it, dear heart," I started.

Her voice was small, "Mickey, I am so sorry. I have all but ruined our lives. I wish that I had succeeded in this. It would have…"

"No!" I said.

"Marci, we talked a bit that night at the bistro when all of us were together. But, we didn't really finish what needed to be said. Marci, I didn't spend all of those years in the joint so that you could kill yourself. I did it because I loved you and wanted you to be happy-not dead! Am I getting through to you?" I said, a bit more gently.

"But, when I think what I put you through, and Howard too, I… " she said.

"I know. And, I expect you'll always feel some guilt about all of that. But, it is time to let it go and be alive and be happy or at least try to be. Howard was an asshole when he cuckolded me, but I am growing to actually like the guy, go figure. That said, Marci, I am with a wonderful woman and you're with Howard, who I hope turns out to be a wonderful guy-I am hopeful.

"We will see each other from time to time, but Marci you are his woman now, and you need to act like you care about him. He'll come around to all that went down. And, I don't think it will be too long in the coming. Just give him a little space. And, love him. Are we on the same page here? I mean no more of these kinds of things, okay?" I said.

"Okay," she said sniffling.

"Good. "I'll call them in now, and we can all be relieved and positive," I kissed her lightly on her forehead, and went to the door to summon them.

******

It was quiet in the car on the way home. She finally spoke.

"So, what did you say to her?" said Elsie. She looked at me with the most questioning look I'd yet seen from her.

"Essentially what I told you. That I still cared for her, and that she cheapened what I did by trying to do herself in. I think she got the message," I said.

"What else? You were talking for some little time," said Elsie.

"That she needed to give Howard some space, let him come around. That I no longer hated him. I even told her that I was coming around to liking the guy. I told her we'd keep in touch.

"She promised to not ever try anything like that again, I think she'll keep her promise," I said.

Elsie nodded at me. Leaned into me and I felt the love of a woman making me whole once again.

-----------------------------

   Series:Margo and Ely Barnes
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Married life can be full of shocks and surprises.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/60291/margo-and-ely-barnes
Published:2009-05-10
It was the third time in the evening that she had dropped by my seat at the bar to make idle chatter. That she was evidently targeting me surprised me. I couldn't figure it. She was a nice looking woman, shoulder length brown hair, dark eyes, flaring hips, and maybe C-cups. She was also six feet tall. Me? I'm way on the short side of average in the looks department, a shade over five-six in height and not an ounce above 140 pounds. I was most definitely not in her league on any level that I could ascertain. But here she was again talking to me-about football for chryssakes!

"'Bama," I said. "I went there, so I have bragging rights."

"They're gonna have problems with Arkansas this year," she said. "I went there." I looked at her with what had to have been a questioning look.

"Why? What's the matter?" she said, noting my apparent quizzical attitude. I started to speak, shut up, and then started again.

"Ma'am…"

"Margo, Margo Potts," she said. "And yours?"

"Uh-oh yeah, Ely, Ely Barnes. Okay, Margo. Margo, you're an awfully pretty lady. And, well, I'm not an awfully pretty guy," I said.

She giggled. "You're fine," she said. "But what would looks have to do with anything anyway. Can't I talk to a gentleman if I want to?"

"Well, yes of course. But-well-there's all of these good lookin' Southern boys in here eyeing you; and well, me?" I said.

"Ely, there are indeed some nice looking Southern boys, as you call them, hanging out here tonight. I'm sure they'd be fine to dance with once or twice, but after that-and I do know several of them-they pretty much run out of anything meaningful to do or say if you get my drift," she said.

"So you don't wanna dance," I asked.

"No, it's not that, rather it's that I want more than just that," she said.

"Well, that still doesn't explain why me," I said.

"Because you have a mind," she said. "I've overheard you talking to the bartender several times tonight, and also about a week ago. You actually have something to say. You're not boring.

"So how about it?" she said.

"How about what?" I said.

"You gonna ask me to dance?"

"Huh?" I said. "Me-you?"

"Yes?"

"No," I said.

"How come? I'm not pretty enough for you?" she said, wrinkling her brow.

"Hardly," I said. "Listen, Margo, I like myself well enough, don't get me wrong. But, well, you are clearly way out of my league. You may not have noticed, but I'm only maybe five-six. You on the other hand, I'd estimate, are six-foot, and that even without those three inch heels you're wearing. I'd feel funny." She slid out of her shoes.

"Six-one," she said. "And I wouldn't feel funny." The look I gave her forced her to choke back an outright guffaw. "Hey, I ditched the shoes, okay?"

"You wouldn't," I said. "I mean feel funny?" In spite of myself I was really becoming interested in a girl this much in control of her own person. She apparently did not need the approbation of her peers. She was what she was and was happy with it.

"No, I wouldn't," she said. I shook my head indicating I wasn't sure if I believed her.

"Okay, in some folks minds, a girl must always be shorter, weaker, and dumber than the man. But, I don't live and die by other people's mind sets or rules. Do you?" she said, challenging me.

"Well-I…"

"Well, do you?" she said.

"Well, no, I don't guess I do," I said. "Say, you wanna dance?"

"Love to," she said.

My face came up to maybe her chin. She leaned her head forward onto my shoulder. I guess we didn't look as ridiculous as I thought we might, nobody laughed. We danced several times that night. Six months later she became Mrs. Margo Barnes.

******

That was twenty-five years ago. Now, at our common age forty-seven, we have settled down. Margo is a sales rep for Heidi Salon, a beauty products distributor. I'm a lawyer with Brooks and Siefert. We've been doing fine. One kid, a daughter, Marissa, at state university; a four bedroom ranchstyle, with pool, in the subs; good friends; and a good sex life overall. Well, the sex life part was good until this past year or so. It seems to have fallen off pretty dramatically ever since the Christmas before last, a fact that has put a strain on me if not on her.

The kitchen is large. She's standing in it, on the phone, near the entryway; her back was to me.

"No I can't… Maybe next week… He's very bothered by it… You're asking too much… No, I've been cutting him off too much; you're asking too much… (laughter)… Okay… like I say maybe next week." She hung up. She walked through the entryway and into the front room. She hadn't seen me.

I was stunned, "cutting me off," she'd said. It could only mean one thing-couldn't it? Twenty plus years down the shitter? I had to know. All those years and nary even a suspicion that she was unhappy with me or with our sex life; well, again, except for the past year. Looking back now it had started, I'm guessing, around the time of our Christmas party year before last. After that things in the bedroom went slowly downhill. It wasn't all that noticeable at first, but had become a bone of contention lately: twice a month doesn't do it for me, but it seems to be more than enough for her. And when we do do it, she acts bored. It's been pissing me off, and now maybe I knew why.

I'm a lawyer, after all, I've had a bus load of experience with this shit. Well, now I was in it myself, the shit that is. That said, I knew just how to handle it. All I needed was the evidence and then I would act.

******

The Big Tuna was still my favorite watering hole even after all of these years. The name derived from the limited but terrific menu that the bar had. It's where we'd met, Margo and I. As I sat on my favorite bar stool, I was thinking that it, life, had come full circle. It, our life together, had begun here, and now it looked like it might end here. The tap on my shoulder broke me out of my reverie.

"Hello, Ely, got your call," said Jude. Jude is Jude Mason, a stand up guy: he'd saved almost as many marriages as he's gathered evidence to destroy. He's not only a licensed private-eye, he also holds a doctorate in Psychology. To say he's been useful to the firm wouldn't even come close to telling the real story.

"I think she's cheatin', Jude. Need you to find out," I said.

"What! Margo!" he said. "No way."

"Yeah way, and it's killing me. Can you do it?" I said.

"Of course I can do it. It's what I do. I mean I am a private dick, right?" he said.

"Pics, audio, all of it: okay?" I said. "I hope I'm wrong, but I know I'm not."

"Okay," he said. "I'll call you when I have what you're asking for. Any idea who he is?" said Jude.

"No, but I wanna know, and I wanna screw him over if I can. Find out about him too while you're at it," I said.

"Okay. Ely, I'm sorry, man."

"Yeah, me too," I said.

I decided to settle in and keep a low profile for the interim. I knew Jude was on the job and there was no use calling him every five minutes for updates. Unless I was totally off base, and I knew I wasn't, I'd know soon enough. It was two weeks later that I got the call. We decided to meet at the Big Tuna.

We sat in the booth farthest from the bar. "Is it bad?" I said.

"The baddest," said Jude. "As a psychologist, Ely, I like to save marriages if I can, but-well, in this case I would advise you to just divorce her and forget it. Do not listen to the tapes or look at the pictures or watch the videos. Usually, I mean very often, there is some way to save marriages that have lasted so long, but… here, I just don't know."

My look brought him up short. "That bad, huh?" I said. He didn't say anything. He just looked down.

"Well, okay then. Anyway, what about him?" I said.

"Name's Fawcett, Harvey Fawcett. He's a realtor; got his own shop. Married, four kids. A few years younger than your wife. History as a womanizer, but seems to be pretty exclusive with your wife at the moment," said Jude.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I said. Jude looked at me and noted my hurt.

"It happens, guy. You gotta let it go," he said.

"Make a second set of everything for his wife," I said.

"Already done. Say the word and she gets it all. For the record, they bad mouth her even worse than…"

"Yeah, than me. I get it," I said.

We talked for a while more, and he advised me as to how I should deal with it all from his point of view as a psychologist.

"Well, I gotta be goin'," I said. He slid the overly fat manila envelope across the table to me. I picked it up as though it were toxic. Well, it was, to my marriage at least.

Actually knowing was, if possible, even worse than the possibility of knowing. I wanted to be sick but couldn't. My stomach was roiling, but nothing was coming up. I tried to force it, but still nothing came up. I cried instead, like a baby.

I looked back on our beginnings. I was so desperately in love with that woman, still was. There would never be another; I was sure of that. The hurt was too deep. I was forty-seven years old. The prospect of being single again terrified me.

Jude had strongly advised me not to look at the evidence. To just give it to an associate at the firm and let him or her handle it. "Save the good memories," he'd advised, "don't create a whole new set of bad ones."

I'd decided to take his advice at least in part. I'd listen to the audio, some of it, but leave the pics for the legal eagle I'd ask to take care of the divorce.

Divorce? A very nasty and evil thing; I hated the very idea of it. But what other option was there? What else…"

******

I was sitting on the veranda nursing a martini; I made very good martinis, I thought as I sat there. It was early evening. She'd be home in a few minutes, I knew. Two sips later I heard her car pull in.

I'd listened to the audio, two hours of it at least. There were six hours of it in total. She and good 'ole Mr. Fawcett had gotten it on four times in the past two weeks. My wife and I? Not once, not one fucking time, not that I'd wanted to; she hadn't even noticed.

I was dressed casually: jeans, Henley shirt, loafers. My back was to the kitchen door. I was in a lounge chair under the patio umbrella I'd opened to shelter me from the rays of the setting sun. It was twenty minutes before she bothered to come out and say so much as hello.

She looked good. Tall, pretty, even at age forty-seven. Gray skirt and jacket, dark blouse, CFMs: she did look good.

"Ely? Why are sitting out here?" she said. I remained silent. She started. She took a sudden step back when she saw the gun on the table beside me. It was a Browning model 1911 forty-five caliber auto.

"Ely! What is that out for!" she said. She was backing up toward the pool. She stopped at the edge. I remained silent. I could sense she was swallowing hard trying to think of something to say. She must have gathered her courage. She returned to the table and took a seat opposite me. She seemed to want to reach for the gun. I short shanked her.

"Don't touch it," I said. My tone was cold. I think so was her blood at that moment.

"Ely? What?" I turned slowly toward her. I faced her. My face was blank; I was remembering the things she and her asshole lover had said about me. I seethed, but outwardly I must have appeared indifferent.

"I need to be alone. Kindly leave me alone," I said.

"Ely? What… " I clicked the little micro-device I'd been holding in my hand. I figured it would say it a lot better and more eloquently than I could considering my emotional state at that moment.

There was some rustling noise in the background…

"That was good baby," said the voice. I knew it had to be good 'ole Harvey. "Little dick ever thrill you like that?"

"Not hardly," she laughed. "I can hardly feel him in me, at least not since you and I-well, you know," she said.

"You still doing him twice a month? I told you to cut the little wimp off?" he said. "You're mine and you know it, at least sexually."

"Now, Harvey, you know I can't cut him off completely. How many times have we talked about that? I have to give him a little, or he'll start getting suspicious. He's no fool, don't ever think that. He's a very bright guy, and he takes care of me. Plus, he deserves something every now and then, dontcha think," she said.

"Well, no more than twice a month. I suppose you do gotta keep the little creep quiet," he said.

"How about your wife," said Margo. "She been gettin' any lately?"

"I think the last time was a year ago"-more laughter. "She is so frigid I have to wear long johns to bed to keep from freezing," he said.

"You know, I can't figure it. You're so tall and pretty; he's so damn short and goofy lookin'. Why did you marry the wimp in the first place," said 'ole Harvey.

"Because I knew from the git go he was going to be somethin', and I was right. He makes four times what you do, lover. I ain't givin' that up for sex, not even with you," she said, laughing. "I have the best of all possible worlds, Harv. He pays for everything, and I get to keep my money and do what I want besides. He loves me. You might say he's my insurance. All I gotta do is treat him half way decently, and tell him I love him every once in a while; it's hard to do, but I do it," she said.

"You sure he has no clue about us? I mean that could be disastrous. That's why I'm not kickin' up a fuss about you fuckin' him every once in a while," said asshole.

"No, he's as blind as a bat when it comes to me. That much I can assure you.

"Your wife?" she said.

"No, she just doesn't care. I don't know, sometimes I think all she wants to do is breathe, eat, and eventually die." He said.

I clicked off the recorder. "Wanna hear yourself having sex with asshole," I said, looking her straight in the eye.

She was stunned. She hadn't uttered a word as the machine played out her feelings about me. She slowly shook her head no. "I thought not," I said.

I took another sip of my drink. She looked at the gun. She looked at me. She slowly rose and headed back into the house. Her steps quickened as she got closer to the door.

I wondered what she was doing in the house. Packing? Calling her lover? Calling the cops?

I didn't know why I'd taken my gun out and cleaned it. I'd bought it for house protection, but hardly ever had it out. I did take it to the range maybe once a year to shoot, kinda reminding myself of what it could do, I suppose. But, it had served its purpose tonight, if an inadvertent one, she was definitely shaken; and I had wanted that.

******

A few hours later, I got up, jammed the gun into my waistband at the back, and headed inside. The divorce was a foregone conclusion. She'd end up getting half; that was the law, but she wouldn't get proprietary rights over anything; I would if either of us did; I had the evidence. Plus, whatever her half ended up being, my accountants would see to it that it ended up more like a third. Wild shit a really talented accountant could do.

She was sitting in the dark, and she was not alone; that surprised me. Harvey was sitting next to her. I'm pretty quick witted for a guy as witless as the two of them thought me to be. I figured he might have a gun, and they'd had a chance for their eyes to get used to the dark; I hit the lights. It startled them.

He had a gun all right: a goose gun. For those who may not know, a goose gun in a long barreled shot gun. Long barreled to reach farther out when hunting fast flying birds. Unwieldy, they were, but could be deadly depending on the shot they were loaded with. I had to smile and did.

"Get out asshole," I said to the man.

"Ely," said Margo, "he's here to protect me-and you too if it comes to that. I just wanted to make sure you didn't do anything dumb. Something that couldn't be undone, okay?"

"Get the fuck out asshole," I repeated. "Oh, and take this cunt with you," I said looking at my wife. That oughta take care of any worry about my doing anything dumb. Right, Margo?"

"Ely! Stop it. Stop it right now," said Margo, showing the first signs of emotion since she'd seen my gun on the veranda table. "We have to talk. I know it looks bad for me-us. I mean that recording. God! How I wish you hadn't had to hear any of that!"

"I'll bet," I said. The gun was in my waistband but at my back. I had my trigger hand behind my back. I leaned back against the door jamb; my hand was resting on the gun's butt. I was no pistolero, but at the distance I was from them, I wouldn't miss if he touched his shotgun, which was leaning up against the side of the couch where he was sitting. I figured I better tell him so too.

"Harvey, old buddy, let me warn you. If you touch that shotgun, you're a dead man," I said. "Now, if you don't mind, just leave it where it is, and the two of you take off. I'll see you get your gun back with her stuff as soon as you let me know where to have it delivered."

I was watching them closely. They had to know I had my hand on my forty-five. They also had to know I could get it into action long before he could get his shotgun up and cocked even though I would have to pull the slide on my forty-five to chamber a round. They looked at each other.

"Ely, please, can't we talk?" she said.

"Why? I know what you think of me now. What's there to talk about? Tell me. Maybe you can convince me that what I heard wasn't what I heard," I said. I was almost sneering.

"Ely, things-well, I guess they've changed over the years. We've-we've gotten stale. You know? The things I said, well, they were cruel. And, if it matters mostly nonsense, you know?" she said. "And, Ely, I'm sorry I said them. I never will again. Tonight was a wakeup call for me: mentally and emotionally. I was an asshole-okay!"

"Nonsense?" I said. Harvey was so far keeping his mouth shut; he did have some good sense after all I supposed.

"Yes, nonsense. You are good in bed. I mean I know what I said on that recording. But it was just bullshit. It sounds self-serving, I know, but you know it's true if you think about how we do in bed. I mean when we do it," she said.

"You mean the twice a month you let me have a mercy fuck to keep me off balance. You mean those times? You mean the times you almost yawn when I cum, those times." I said. The man beside her was trying to hide a smile. He evidently had no idea how close he was coming to having me wipe it off his face. I decided to take a chance at wiping it off the soft way.

"You got something you think is funny asshole?" I said. His face changed expressions at light speed. I whipped my gun out from the back of my waistband and drew the slide so suddenly that the two of them froze. His hand went too late to his long gun. Mine was pointed straight at his gut, but ten feet distant. He slowly drew his hand back and rested it in his lap. "Good thinking," I said. I stuck the gun in my front waistband this time. They both knew his shotgun was worthless now.

"Mister Barnes, I think I'm going to take your advice and leave. I will leave my gun here, like you said. Okay?" said Harvey.

"Sounds good, Harvey baby," I said. Now, I was sneering. He looked over at Margo to see if she was going to accompany him. This was going to be interesting. Him or me, big dick or big income, which would she choose?" I couldn't help myself; I smiled and that broadly. She didn't get up when he did. He gave her a look that could only be understood as disgust, but she didn't say anything.

After he left, we just stared at each other for some little time before I broke the impasse. "What, you didn't wanna go home with him to meet his wife and four kids?" I said.

Her eyes lit up. "You know about him? But of course you do. You have those recordings. You must have it all I suppose," she said.

I didn't say anything.

"Where do we go from here?" she said. She looked defeated. And, yes, dear reader, I felt sorry for her, but not very sorry for her.

"I suppose divorce court. I mean now that I know how you feel about me. What's left for us? But, look on the bright side; you've still got asshole to have and to hold and to cheat with. Well, until he cheats on you, or you on him," I said. She flinched when I said that.

"Ely, I don't want a divorce. I know what I said, but I knew it was bullshit to placate him when I said it; and that's the God's truth," said Margo. "I'll take a lie detector test to prove it too. I know you do that in your business all of the time. Give me a chance to prove that I love you."

"Prove that you love me. Well, let's see. The reality is that I get a mercy fuck twice a month and you act as bored as anyone could act; no, you are as bored as anyone could be. You state quite clearly in the tapes that it's my income that keeps you at home nights-most nights. He has a bigger cock than me. I'm a short, wimpy-assed, pussywhipped little man, that bores you to tears. Uh-did I miss anything. Will the lie detector show that that was all bullshit?" I said.

"Yes," she said. "It will show exactly that." I looked at her like she truly was full of shit.

"Even if it did, you've been fucking him for over a year?" I took a flyer on that one. I still didn't actually know how long it had been going on. She laughed.

"Your info isn't as good as I thought," she said. "It's only been these last three months. We'd had lunches together at first, then some dinner dates, finally he fucked me in the back of his SUV about three months ago. You were in California at that ABA confab. I was lonely and he does have as big dick, and yes he is bigger than you by about an inch and a half, and no it's not that big a deal to me; and a lie detector will confirm that too."

"Really. And, how am I supposed to get by the fact that you let him fuck you at all? I mean even if the lie detector backs you up on everything else?" I said.

She looked forlorn. "I don't know. I guess all I can do is hope. Other couples have gotten by affairs of the one or the other. I'll even go into counseling if you like." She said. She was clearly grasping at straws. The one thing that was drawing me however was the certitude with which she was claiming that the lie detector test would clear her of everything except her actually fucking the guy which she was owning up to; of course she had no choice there. But, now I had options.

I could have her take the test. Jude could do that one; he was one of the best. But it was him who told me to divorce her and just get on with life. I would run the whole idea by him on the morrow. And there was one other thing I could do, and was determined to do.

"I have to say your protestations here interest me," I said. "You say you don't want a divorce. You say you love me. Does that mean that you want to grow old with me and have sex with me and only me for the rest of our lives together?"

"It means exactly that," she said. I smiled the smile of Seabiscuit in race against a field of long in the tooth, broken legged, milk cows.

"Okay, here's how it has to play out, and you have to know there can be no compromise. We'll hold off on the lie detector for the moment. First, you will talk to Jude; he'll know if you're lying almost from your first word.

"Second, the recording you heard is not the only thing I have. I have pictures and videos and several more recordings that I've neither looked at nor listened too on advice from my investigator. He says they are too bad for my soul to tolerate. I have decided he is right. I will destroy them if you are really willing to go the whole nine yards on this," I said. I waited for her to respond.

"I am willing," she said. "I will do whatever it takes."

"Third, I have not contacted Marissa, our daughter. But, I will, and she will get all of the stuff I've got if at any point you decide that you can double-cross me and get away with it.

"I promise I won't," she said.

"Well, your promises aren't going to even be enough," I said. "Maybe someday they will be again, but not even in the short run. I'm sure you can understand my reticence."

"I do Ely. Like I said, I've been a cheatin' asshole, but that's behind me now. You accused me of giving you only mercy fucks to placate you; I never saw it quite that way, but I suppose you may have been right. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I will spend the rest of my life proving my love for you if you give me a chance," she said.

I nodded my understanding of her words. "Next, I am going to sink your lover's ship. His wife is going to get a call from you. You will meet with her, and give her everything I've got. I am going to screw the adulterous bastard in technicolor. No compromise on this one; don't even ask." She looked shaken. This part of the game, confessing to asshole's wife, had not been part of her thinking. Too damn bad, I thought.

"Finally, if everything goes well to this point. I will see to getting the lie detector administered. If that goes well too, we will remain married and try to get by all of this. But, you will sign a legally binding agreement that if you cheat again, I get everything. Put another way, you'll end up with the clothes on your back and that closet full of shoes you've got upstairs," I said. "Any questions?"

"No.

"Ely, I really am sorry. You didn't deserve any of this. I really was an asshole, but no more," she said.

"Okay, we'll see," I said. "Call her now."

"Who?"

"Harvey's missus. Set up a meet time for tomorrow. There will be no delays here," I said.

To her credit she didn't hesitate. She headed for the kitchen, the nearest phone. She made the call and the date. It would be lunch tomorrow.

I went into my office and retrieved the manila envelope. I brought it back in and handed it to her. "I have other copies and so does my PI," I said. She nodded.

"Ely, could I ask for one small favor?" she said in a soft voice. I nodded.

"Would you please put those guns away in the safe-his and yours? They really do scare me," she said.

I smiled. "Yes," I said. "I'll do that now."

******

I bugged her purse. I wanted to be there in technological-spirit when she met with Mrs. Fawcett. Margo didn't know of the recorder of course, and she wouldn't unless she did a close search of her purse. I figured that to be unlikely.

It was a Friday, a work day for all concerned. I didn't know, of course, whether or not Mr. Fawcett would be taking the day off given the traumatic happenings of the night before. But that wasn't my worry; it was Margo's. If she met with him, I would have it recorded; then we would all be going to plan B. If she did as she said she was going to do, we might be okay-in the long run. Whatever her skills as a seductress and they were considerable; she wasn't my equal intellectually nor was he. I was pretty sure she realized that, but him? I doubted it. He would try to stop her from sinking his ship if he knew. He had to try; his wife was about to get enough evidence to all but totally destroy him economically.

Several things bothered me. Why had she dared to call him to come to the house and cover her? And why had he brought a gun with him? It mattered not that he was too inept to be able to use it; he was clearly not a man used to guns. Add to that, that I had sat out on the back veranda for some hours, and I had no idea how long he'd been in the house sitting there talking with her. What had they said during that time? What had she said to him on the phone when she'd called him? Why hadn't the two of them come out onto the veranda and disarmed me when he first arrived instead of ensconcing themselves on the couch and waiting benignly for me to come in. He didn't even have the gun in his hands; whose brilliant idea was that? I could have shot him dead and her too if it came to that. That was a gamble that made no sense. Well, I supposed I'd have to write off most of it to indecision on Margo's part; exlax was clearly not the brains of that little cartel.

None of what she had done or was doing made sense. Jesus was I confused! I had to believe that she meant all of those things that she'd said on the tapes. Had she had a change of heart that came about as a result of my discovering the facts? Maybe. As a lawyer, I had seen the like happen in the past. Did it matter that she may have changed after what she'd said about me? The answer to this last was a qualified yes; I did love her; we did have a child together; and, I think that in the beginning, and maybe for most of our married life she had loved me.

I had taken the day off. Not to follow her, but to meet with Jude. I had to set up a few things, not the least of which was a session between him and her.

I was sitting in his office while he was on the phone with one of his operatives. "Is it all set then?" I said, as he ended his call.

"Yes, I've arranged for him to be there when they meet-or don't-it'll back up your recording. I still think you're an idiot for giving her a second chance, Ely. That woman does not love you. On the videos the two of them actually mimic you and his wife having inept sex together. They hold the both you in contempt. Those kinds of feelings and attitudes don't suddenly die. She's playing you. But, what do I know; I'm just a genius psychologist and private eye with twenty years of experience in the field," he said. I nodded.

"I know you're probably right, Jude. But, I'm covering myself to make sure she ends up with nothing if she screws with me. Once she signs the 'post-nup' that I'm having drawing up; I'll be covered. Plus I have the hole card of our daughter," I said. "She will not want the evidence you've collected going to Marissa."

"I will say that you've planned pretty well for an overpaid lawyer," he said laughing.

"I know it's a gamble, Jude. She ain't kiddin' anybody. But, maybe the shock of what has happened to her, and to us, has shaken her loose from her dream world. She's not getting any younger, and she might just have been doing all of this as a reaction to that simple fact," I said.

"I have to say, Ely, that that is a possibility. Probably the only one that may offer a glimmer of hope for a positive outcome to all of this. But, that presupposes she thinks a lot more deeply than we've been giving her credit for. But anyway, we'll likely know for sure by the end of the day, won't we?" he said.

"I guess so," I said.

******

So, whaddya, got," I said. Jude looked at me; he seemed-harassed.

"It's complicated, Barns," he said.

"Huh?" I said.

"She did what you asked, but she also begged the wife to have mercy on the man. I am almost sympathetic with her. I am ready to say she may indeed still love you. She did blow it, don't get me wrong. You really do not want to hear the rest of those tapes and certainly not watch the videos or look at the pictures."

"You're on her side now?" I said. I couldn't believe it.

"Well, sort of.

"You say she is willing to take a lie detector test?" said Jude.

"Yes. She says she is," I said.

"Let her. You give me a set of questions you would like to have me ask her. I will word them for maximum effect. Believe me, I will get the real honest to goodness truth of the matter for absolutely sure," he said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. "I planned to at some point anyway. I told her so. She's expecting it."

"Then, I'll arrange a time?" he said. I nodded.

******

"Just relax," said Jude. "It's really very simple. Margo was nervous and looking lost with the wires attached to her. She felt like a prisoner about to be executed, but she just nodded to him.

"Ready?" he said. He looked her in the eyes; he saw something there he had a hard time deciphering; He let it go.

"Yes, I guess so," she said.

"Margo, I am going to ask you a series of questions. Just answer to the best of your ability. Only a yes or no answer will be required, no long detailed explanations will be necessary. If you don't know the answer, just say so, and we will go on to the next question. Okay?" he said.

"Uh-huh," she said.

"Okay, then," he said. Let's begin. Is you middle name Rene?"

"Yes," she said.

"Was it raining when you came in today?"

"No," she said.

"Was Mr. Fawcett your lover." He noted a small spike on the screen?"

"Yes," she said finally.

Twelve miles away at the Big Tuna the scene was very different, but similar in at least one way: her husband was as nervous as she was.

"Johnny, get me another of these, okay?" I said.

The barkeep brought him his fourth martini. "Hittin' it hard today, Ely? Am I gonna have to have your keys later?" he said.

"Yeah, maybe," I said. "I'll let you know." I looked at my watch for the umpteenth time in the last two hours. How the hell long was this going to take.

Looking toward the entry way, he saw her come in. She joined him at the bar. "It's done," she said. "I told the truth Ely. I hope you'll believe me now."

"Margo, remember it was your suggestion in the first place, but now it's done." I was remarkably sober for having done my level best to handle four dry martinis back to back.

"Yes, it's done," she said. "He told me the results would be ready by tomorrow. That seemed kinda soon to me, but it's what he said." I nodded and asked if she wanted something to drink.

"Yes, I'll have one of those too," she said. "Ely, I know I've said it twenty times, but I'm going to say it again. I'm sorry for what I've done; I hope now you will forgive me. I do love you-and us."

I ordered the drinks and we made small talk. There was no more mention of the test. A half an hour later we left for home.

******

I got the results back from Jude the next day; he was acting a little-nervous, maybe. "She was clean. Everything she'd said was straight arrow," he said.

I was, frankly shocked. Jude was smiling the smile of the just. "I guess I was wrong," he said. "She's a cheater, but at no time did she not love you."

"Jesus, I can't believe it. But, if the machine says it's so-how accurate are those things anyway?" I said.

"Very, regardless of what you may have heard. A few people have the kind of nerves or skills it takes to fool the machine or force an inconclusive result, but not many. Not very many at all, and most of them work for the CIA or should," he said.

******

The sex, the conversations around the house, the very atmosphere was wonderful for the next several weeks. Did I completely trust her? No. I knew she loved me. The machine had put its imprimatur on that wonderful truth. But, did that mean she wouldn't cheat on me again, and maybe just be more careful in the future? Call me a cynic, but I was going to be proactive: believe her, yes; but verify. That was my new mantra.

It was some dozen weeks later that a chink began to appear in the fabric of our lives. She'd been late twice over the past two weeks or so. Her explanations seemed right out a high school kid's manual for "Why I didn't turn my homework in on time." She'd been caught up with a project at work and had forgotten the time, she said: that was the first time. She'd had run out of gas, and had had to walk three miles to a station to get any: that was the second time, she said. The second one was lame, and I knew it was a lie. I'd driven her car the day before and the tank had been half full. Both late returner days had been on Tuesdays. I would be ready the next Tuesday.

I wanted to make for absolutely sure I was right. I decided to follow her myself. I changed my mind. Changed it again and called Jude. I couldn't get hold of him. That's how I now find myself parked outside, but not too near, her workplace when it was time for her to get off. She came out right on time, but did not head for her car. Instead, she headed for another car parked a few doors down the street. She got in. They drove right past me. The diver? Jude.

I was sick, and I was angry-very angry. Jude was fucking toast. I knew how to handle his ilk, and her; oh, she was going to get hammered and good. The post-nup covered me. She had made her last mistake. Now, all of the insults and nastiness that I had originally nailed her with came back to hurt me. Oh yes, I was hurting; almost as much as I was enraged.

Jude! The betraying motherfucker! He had dug himself a very deep hole indeed. I'd own the bastard and everything he loved. I tried to figure their game. I had to suppose that the other guy had been in Jude's way, so he had engineered his destruction. Or maybe she had turned him on at the testing, and now he was taking good 'ole Harvey's place. She had the ability to turn on any man as far as I was concerned.

I Guessed I was supposed to think that Margo would be too smart and too much in love with me to mess around again. They'd figured wrong. My mother may have raised an idiot but she sure as hell didn't raise no fool.

******

I called a young protégé of mine, Gaston LeFluer. He was little more than a just out of school, twenty-five looking every bit of sixteen, but he had a promising career as a litigator. I had him meet me at the restaurant across the street from the motel-9 that the two adulterers were currently bouncing around in.

"Hi," I said, to the young man, as he came up to my car door. "I have a little mission for you, Gaston." He looked askance at me at first, and then his eyes widened as the details of the little cat and mouse game I had in mind unfolded.

"Okay, mister Barnes," said the man. "I sure am sor-"

"Yes, yes, I know. Let's just get it done, okay," I said.

"Right on, sir. It'll be a piece of cake. I used to act a little you know. Helped get me through college. I'm actually pretty good," he bragged. Well, if he was, we'd soon know; and if he was, I knew I'd be employing his talents again at some point in other cases.

The boy disappeared for the next twenty minutes. I watched as he reappeared at the front of the door to room 104. He was holding a bouquet of flowers. I saw him knock.

Jude answered the door and looked the boy up and own; he also surveyed the parking lot in front of the motel room. Apparently satisfied, he talked with Gaston for a minute, handed him some money, a tip maybe, and sent him away. Gaston still had the flowers. He also had the pic of the two of them in the motel room together, her in the background in a robe, sloppy of Jude. And, there was the matter of the little recording device that caught both of their voices quite clearly: him asking if she'd ordered any flowers for them and her saying no that she hadn't but that she should have. They were toast.

******

She arrived home at around 7:00PM that same evening. She was flushed but looking happy, contented. I was even happier. Nothing like a little successful intrigue to get the adrenalin flowing.

"Hi, baby. And yes, yes, I know, late again. I am so sorry," she said, short shanking, as she thought, the certainty of my protests. "These Tuesdays are getting to be a real bear. Meetings, meetings and more meetings. I should have a college degree in meetings for chryssakes," she giggled.

"Well, you look good-satisfied," I said. Her head snapped around way too fast in response to what should have been but an innocent comment on my part.

"Uh-yes-well, we did get a lot done; Things should quiet down now for a while," she said. I could sense her kicking herself for her almost big ass mistake. I was loving it.

For the next couple of weeks there were no late nights at the office for her, go figure. I guessed she might have suspected that I was suspecting her. No words or anything out of the ordinary passed between us, but there was something there and it remained there until the Monday just before the third Tuesday following the Tuesday just alluded to. This time she was setting me up in advance. Which was interesting, since I was setting her up. Talk about a confluence of circumstances and cross-purposes.

"Honey, I'm afraid I'm going to be a little late tomorrow again," she said.

"Oh," I said. We had just sat down for breakfast. Our usual hot rolls and jam and coffee.

"Yes, the boss needs me for some inventory control. Have to do it after hours though," she said. I smiled, the moment of truth had come. I had gotten the e-wire just half an hour before; all was ready. I had decided to have her served at her office later that morning, but now I decided to let the hammer drop now; the temptation was just too overwhelming.

"Why? He only has two," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Balls," I said.

"Huh? What are you talking about," she said.

"Jude, of course, he only has two balls. Why would you have to inventory them," I said. The look on her face was stunning. I had caught her completely off guard. I continued to spread jam on my roll.

"Wha-wha-what are you talking about!" she said, acting indignant. I chewed.

"Well!" she said.

"Your after-nooners with Jude, of course. You know when you fuck him and stuff," I said.

"Ely-I-" she started.

"Yes, I know you're sorry. And, you're also history. You will be served and when you are I suggest you sign it. Sign it or I will absolutely ruin you and him both," I said. "You turning my good friend against me was a new low even for you.

"You really need to be more careful who you screw over; sometimes it'll come back to bite you in the ass," I said. "Can I ask? How long has it been going on? I mean you and Jude. I'd really like to know."

She was crying now. Caught and ruined. "Ely…"

"How long," I said, pounding the table and almost losing it.

"Since the day of the testing. I made him an offer he found-well-hard to refuse," she said.

"Interesting. My own personal little Cleopatra: first Caesar then Mark Antony. You are a trip," I said.

"Ely, I don't know what to say," she said.

"Did you and him bad mouth me like you did with good 'ole Harvey, Margo?" I said.

"God no! Jude felt bad enough-betraying you. You were never even mentioned. We just got it on," she said. That part I believed. I believed it because of my history with Jude. But he was still a traitorous butt-fuck.

"We have a post-nup, Margo. However, I'm in a generous mood. I'm going to offer you a deal. Take it and you'll end up with a hundred grand in the bank. Mess with me and you'll find your ass homeless as well as penniless," I said. I watched her out of the corner of my eye.

"Huh?" she said.

"You testify against your boyfriend and the settlement is yours. Don't and I will settle accounts with you," I said.

From somewhere deep inside her she found the character to finally not be the opportunist she had clearly been up until now. "No," she said. "I will not betray him. Oh, and for the record, and I know you won't believe me-why should you-but I apologize for being such a skunk toward you. But, no, I'll get by even homeless and broke somehow. I don't want your money." This was interesting.

She was packed-light-and was out of the house within the hour. She cried the whole time, but she asked for nothing. She knew her ass was grass. It was a sad time for me too, go figure.

The case against Jude was cut and dried. He'd broken every possible rule that the APA ethics panel had set in place and those of the state Private-eye licensing board as well. He was defrocked from all of his licenses. Margo had attended both of his hearings and stood by him even as his ship sank. If she had only been as honorable with me.

******

I was seated at the far end of the bar in the dimly lit bistro that the two of them had been frequenting since their fall from grace. I was amused as hell. What was about to play out made me feel-well-good.

"We still have my job, Jude, we'll get by," she said.

"It's not enough, and besides I can't let you pay for everything. I'll get a job soon; I have to. I'll just have to lower my sights a bit. Get anything, take anything that comes along," I guess.

"Excuse me, are you Margo Barnes," said the interloper.

She looked up at the man. A process server, she thought. When would Ely let up! "Jesus, hasn't he done enough to us!" she said, beginning to cry.

"Excuse me, miss?" the man said.

"We've paid for what we did! What else does he want! Jesus how much he must hate me," She said. She was speaking loud enough for me to hear it all.

"I don't know anything about that, miss. I was just asked to deliver this to you," he said. He left it on the table, turned, and walked off.

The two of them looked at the envelope like it was a toxic thing.

"You want me to open it," he said. I could see him say it and understood his meaning well enough from where I was sitting in the near darkness. She nodded.

He reached for it slowly. He opened it almost delicately, and well he might have. He read the note.

Margo,

Helluva thing you and me. But, for the life of me I can't hate you. Because you "didn't" betray your lover for money, you have earned my respect back, if not my trust.

Love,

Ely

Margo looked over at her fellow adulterer. "Huh?"

"There's a check in here," he said.

"Huh? A check? But…"

"If you count the ones behind the decimal point, there are seven zeroes," he said.

"What!" I saw her say. "What's the number in front of the zeroes?"

"It's a-five," he said.

"But that's…"

"Yeah, I know. Jesus! What kind of man is our Ely," said Jude. He was easy to read even from where I sat.

******

Epilog:

They married. They settled about a hundred miles south of where we had all flourished. I did get a letter from her soon after that evening at the bistro thanking me in way over the top superlatives. But, hell, I deserved them.

Gaston was soon promoted to partner. He was too young, but he was oh so appreciated by the main man in charge of personnel at Brooks and Siefert-me. And, that for a lot more than the one instance of personal favor.

I was also on the hunt for a new woman, and the prospects were many. I had decided that I could live without the "one" love of my life after all. Oh, the choices one has to make.

Helluva thing.

-----------------------------

   Series:Meagan and Chester
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Wife makes the mistake of thinking she can convince her hubby to swing; she was wrong!
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/60296/meagan-and-chester
Published:2009-05-11
I was standing at the bar next to my wife when Don showed up. I laughed and accused him of being late. He threw up his hands in mock despair. Meagan just frowned at me; she seemed nervous.

"Whatcha drinkin'," I said to the new arrival. "And where's Bert?" Bert was Bertha, a pretty, big breasted German girl ten years any of our junior.

"A beer will be fine," he said. "She's at home. Got a bug of some kind." I nodded, Meagan had had the same thing a week earlier and had had to stay home to recuperate.

A couple of hours, several dances-we shared Meagan and a couple of local ladies-and a whole lot of sauce later, the conversation loosened up-a lot.

"Whaddya think of that redhead over there," said Don. He was studying me.

"Huh? What do I think?" I said. Meagan looked at me in a way I could not decipher. I looked back at her, my look had to be a question.

"She's cute, I guess," I said, finally.

"You guess? Her name's Joan, and she's as hot as they come. I hear her husband likes to watch too," said Don. Meagan now looked daggers at Don.

"Watch what," I said, not getting it the first time. And what was wrong with Meagan.

"Watch her getting it," said Don. "It goes on a lot you know. I mean husbands wanting to be cuckolded by their wives."

"Oh yeah, I'll bet," I said. I had to laugh; Meagan was clearly not comfortable with the conversation. "A cuckold? Hey Meagan, would you get off on cuckolding me?" Her face drained. It was so obvious that I knew. I knew it then. Right then. A perfect storm of coincidences now occurred. The redhead, Joan, moseyed over and pulled Don out on the dance floor. Meagan tried to get the bartender's attention, but he was too far away and too busy to offer her the time she needed to recoup from her lapse. And, I had made a decision; I was not going to let this fester. Now, was the time.

"Meagan," I said, getting her attention. She wouldn't look at me. "Who is he?"

Her eyes flicked up and met mine. "Who?" she managed. I waited. "Well who, Chester?"

"The man you're fucking. The man you've made me a cuckold with. And, before you answer, know this, I will know if you lie. I will know immediately," I said.

"Chester I-"

"Who the fuck is he? Tell me now?" I demanded.

"Chester-It doesn't matter, Chester. It was just sex. No commitment. Just two sweaty bodies doing it, and it's over," she said. "I'm sorry okay. I just kinda lost control; but I got it back now, really. I'm sorry." She looked desperate, as well she should have.

"Doesn't matter? You are kidding, right? You're sorry? Tell me who he is now, Meagan, or I'm gone, and I mean forever," I said. Now, she was flustered and desperate.

She looked out onto the floor. My eyes followed hers. "Him?" I said. "My boss?" I began to stiffen up. My anger was about to reach the boiling point. It finally did. I walked out onto the floor and yanked my good friend, my boss, away from his partner.

"What the fuck!" he said. The woman's mouth was wide open but no sounds emerged.

My first punch relieved him of every scintilla of air in his lungs; my second dropped him; I proceeded to beat the high holy shit out of him. I walked out and headed home. The police were waiting for me; I have no idea who called them or how they knew where I lived; I suspect they got the latter from my wife, but who knew.

They cuffed me and took me into custody. My jail cell was lonely and cold. And, I was thirsty.

My wife arrived early in the morning, but she couldn't see me until I was arraigned. By noon she was there with the bail money.

"Chester, whaddya gonna do?" she said, coming up to me, as they led me out and presented me with my personal stuff. "You put Don in the hospital, you know."

"He's still alive?" I said, in mock disappointment.

"It's all my fault. All my fault," she said. "Jesus, I didn't mean to-you know."

"Cuckold me?" I said.

"Chester, whaddya gonna do. Can we just go home now?" she said.

"Yeah, I have to get my clothes," I said. "We're quits you and I. You can fuck that asshole, that so called friend of mine, all you want now. I mean if you can get Bertha's permission. Oh, and he can fuck his insurance agency fucking job too."

"Bertha already knows. She was okay with it?" said Meagan. That one stopped me.

"Bertha was okay with you two fucking around on me-us-she and I?"

"Yes, they've done some swinging. He, Don, wanted us to join them. We were going to talk to you about it-well-last night. I guess it was a bad idea," she said. I just stared at her.

"You two-you three-conspired to get me to swing with you! Do you have any idea how crazy you sound?" I said. "I told him you wouldn't go for it. He just said that he thought that, if we went about it right, that he could get you to come around," she said.

"Well, I guess he didn't go about it right then did he? I mean fucking you first and then trying to get me to go for it. Not too bright on his part. Hope you enjoyed having his dick up your twat. Is his bigger than mine? I really want to know. Are you a size queen?"

"Chester it has nothing to do with you and me or the size of his cock or any of that. It was just craziness-silliness on my part-our part… " she said.

"Answer me Meagan. I want to know!" I said.

"Okay, okay, he's a little bigger, but only a little. There's no real difference," she said. I could sense my face darken.

I may be headed to prison, Meagan, I want to thank you in advance for that; you know just in fucking case I never see your whoring ass again! Of course, the upside for you is that you won't have me standing in the way of you getting his big fat dick up you will you-cunt!" I said. She was crying her eyes out as we walked to the car.

"Chester, I'm sorry. It was a bad idea. I was never sure I even wanted to do it anyway, I mean the swinging. Please, Chester, give me another chance. I need you. I love you," she whined.

"Yeah, fucking right!" I said

Of course I was not in a believing mood. Arriving at home, I tried to call Bertha. She wasn't home.

"She's at the hospital. Don has a broken jaw and cracked ribs as well as a concussion. I think he'll be all right, but he's going to be in the hospital for several days. Bertha called to tell me," she said.

"I hope the motherfucker-make that, other-man's-wife-fucker-dies," I said. She was howling now.

"Please, Chester, I will never do it again. I just lost it; I don't know why. I don't even like the guy that much!" she said.

"You don't know why you did it! You don't like him that much!" I looked at her with the purest of angers in my eyes, of that I was sure. "You didn't even like him that much!" I repeated! "Meagan, you're a piece of work. You all are," I said. "I may not be rich like him, but at least I'm honest and loyal. None of the three of you can say as much the way I see it. Kindly go to hell all of you!" ****** My trial for aggravated assault was held two months later. I was found guilty.

"Chester Gilford, you have been found guilty of aggravated assault. I hereby sentence you to from one to five years in the state penitentiary for your crime." The gavel sounded. My knees felt weak. My lawyer mumbled something about an appeal. I looked around and saw my wife; my faithless wife. Her eyes were filled with tears. Well, what the hell, I thought.

I was cuffed and put into a waist chain and ankle shackles on the spot. The guard took hold of my arm and led me away. My shortened stutter steps made it plain to all that I was a prisoner, talk about adding to my humiliation.

Besides Meagan, the remainder of the unholy three were there. Don was sneering, Bertha was perplexed. And oh yeah, Meagan? Meagan was beseeching me to forgive her. I wondered if she would be visiting me in the joint. I wondered if I even gave a damn; I was pretty sure I didn't.

I was sent to a medium security unit about 150 miles from home. It didn't matter to me, but the inmates there were at least not your average axe murderers. Most were in for stuff like me or white collar types most serving sentences similar to my own. Oh, there were a few big time baddies, but those were old guys finishing out their life sentences in their dotage.

Turned out she did visit me, or tried to, several times in that first year; but I refused to see her. I was hoping she'd just divorce me and let me alone; but, she didn't do that either. I was paroled after eighteen months.

My experience inside was enlightening. I actually made some friends-go figure. Couldn't trust my wife, my boss, his wife, or likely very many others of the old crowd, the way I was seeing things; but, the cons I met inside were reliable as hell. Helluva thing.

As I stood in front of the cage waiting for the final paperwork, and to get signed out, and for the few personal things that I had brought in with me a year and a half before, a guard approached me.

"Do good Chester. Don't wanna see you back here, okay?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Masters, as much as I like the place, I will be making other plans," I said, smiling.

"Uh-Chester, I don't know if you're expecting her, but I think your wife is outside waiting for you. I know you rejected seeing her in the past when she came up to visit," he said. My smile faded in a hurry.

"Man, that's all I need," I said. "Well, maybe it's time to get it over with; I mean my final words to her." Guard Masters just nodded his agreement.

The gate clanged shut behind me. The bright sunlight had me squinting and looking left and right for what I knew was coming. The six year old Chevy, my old car, came up beside me. Meagan leaned out and smiled.

"Can I give you a lift, handsome," she said, trying to be jovial, I supposed. Not a good idea when a man has just spent a piece of his life he can never get back in a cage.

I just opened the car door and got in. I think she could tell my mood wasn't jovial. We said nothing for the first few miles.

"Chester…"

"What did you come for-really-Meagan?" I said. "Why are you bothering me?"

"Chester, I-I-I am so sorry for all of this. I have cried every single day since you went away," she said.

"Went away! You mean since I was locked up, Meagan. Say it, since I was locked up." I said.

"Chester, it's hard-okay. Okay, since you were locked up and put in chains and kept from your job and rightful place and home. Chester, it was all my fault. I am so fucking sorry," she cried. "I cheated on you and tried to make you like it. If you give me a chance, you will be the happiest sonovabitch that ever lived; I swear it." I looked her squarely in the eye; I had to lean forward and look back to do it as she drove.

And what about Don the asshole?" I said. "And his cunt wife, Bertha?"

"They're sorry this happened too, Chester. He tried to get the charges dropped after you were-convicted-but it was too late. Bertha? She just went along with anything he wanted. They aren't bad people, Chester. They just screwed up; well, Don did," she said. Something in her words or tone hit me.

"You're still seeing him, aren't you?" I said. I looked her square in the eyes again.

"Chester, he's not a bad guy. I know he hurt you; I hurt you. I feel awful about all of this. I had to argue with him not to have him come down here today to meet you too," she said. "He wants to make it all up to you."

"You-haven't-answered-my-question-Meagan. Are-you-still-seeing-mister asshole?" I enunciated each word. Anger was boiling up inside of me.

"Chester, yes we see each other occasionally, but it's not like you think. He isn't fucking me. Not that," she said. "Not ever again that, I promise you."

"Then what? Why do you see the man that put me behind bars?" I said. "Chester, I needed someone to hold on to while you were inside that awful place; I felt so guilty. I was losing my mind. I couldn't work-hold a job. I wasn't lying when I said I've cried almost daily since you've been-gone. "Don-well, he stood by me. Made my payments when I couldn't-he felt guilty too. Found me a part time job to pay for my food and such," she said.

"What did you have to give in return, Meagan?" I said. She started to cry, and there was no stopping her. I waited.

"There was no fucking, Chester, I swear to you, none of that," she said.

"Okay, then what," I said. She started wailing again. I was becoming annoyed. I waited some more.

"Well?" I said.

"Just an occasional handjob. Maybe a blow job or two," she said, and she said it so quietly I think she was hoping I wouldn't hear it. If so, she was about to be disappointed.

"You mindless fucking whore! You're fucking crazy," I said. "Stop the car."

"Huh?" she said.

"Stop the fucking car, damn it!" She did, I got out, grabbed my bag, and started walking. It was twenty miles in the heat of the day, but I was afraid I would kill her if I stayed with her. She had to be the dumbest broad in the whole fucking world.

She got out of the car and started chasing me down the road. "Chester! I never fucked him. I swear I never did. He knows it'll never happen again for him. Only you get that," she said, wailing as I strode off and made the turn down the old dirt road toward Baxter Town; she fell hopelessly behind. The road wasn't passable by car, I knew. I was hoping she wouldn't follow me. But, now it was my turn to be disappointed.

It took me ten hours carrying that bag and stopping now and again to catch my breath, but I made it. It was 7:30PM when I strolled up to the little bed and breakfast at the edge of town. I didn't see the Chevy; there was hope. I headed up to the registration desk and asked to get a room. The man asked for my name; I gave it. "Oh, Mr. Gilford, your wife has already rented the room," he said. He handed me the key. I just stood there dumbfounded. "Mr. Gilford?"

"Uh-oh, yes-uh-what room is it," I said. I was too fucking tired to argue at that point. I'd kick her out when I got to the room. That was my plan. It was about to be altered.

I keyed the door and entered. What I noticed first was the smell. It was her perfume. It had always enslaved me in the past. I was so horny after eighteen months behind bars that that smell was getting to me. But, she wasn't around. She'd left an envelope on the bed. I opened it. There was money in it and a note. I read the note.

"Chester,

I don't know what to say. I am begging you to forgive me-for everything. My heart is yours, always was, always will be.

I knew you'd probably throw me out if you found me here, so after freshening up a bit, I decided to leave you this note and a little money. It's all I have, but I know you need it more.

Chester there's a little bar down the street, maybe two blocks away. I'll be there until it closes tonight. I mean in case you want to see me. In case you've maybe, hopefully, changed your mind. After that, if you haven't changed your mind, I will disappear forever, and you won't have to worry about me anymore.

I love you Chester.

Your wife, Meagan.

I counted the money. It was four-hundred and eighty-four hundred dollars. It was apparently every dime she had; I just shook my head-what a woman.

I had come into town with ninety dollars in my pocket. I could use the cash. I sat and thought. Did I really want to subject myself to another meeting with her. But, her letter? The money? It unsettled me.

I took a quick shower, changed into the extra clothes in my little tube bag, and headed down the street for the Challenger bar. The desk kid told me where it was.

She was in a booth nursing a drink and nibbling on some chips. She looked tired and depressed. I leaned back against the wall and just watched her for a moment. She was beautiful, my wife, to me she was beautiful; but she was stupid beyond belief. Handjobs, blow jobs, the images just wouldn't go away. I was all but certain that there had been more, but what the hell; I'd talk to her anyway and deal with the rest later.

I sighed and headed for her. She didn't notice me until my shadow blocked the light from her table. Her head snapped up. "Chester! You came!," she said. Her smile melted my convict's heart. I nodded.

"Come on, Meagan, I'm starving. I need to eat. It's been a long day," I said. She let me lead her out. I paid the bill at the bar on our way out and headed a few doors back up the street to a little ma-and-pa café.

A pasty-faced kid showed up with well worn menus. We ordered. I wanted a cheeseburger and fries in the worst way. Meagan got a chef's salad. We sipped our iced teas.

"Meagan, I gotta tell yuh, you telling me that you've been having sex with that asshole while I've been inside got to me. I mean it really got to me," I said.

"I realize that now," she said. "I thought that-you know-if I didn't let him into my pants… " There she'd said it again. I just couldn't believe that asshole Don would have let it stop there, but for the moment I would go along.

"No, Meagan, he doesn't get anything of mine-nothing. He's a user, a bad man," I said. "Are you mine, Meagan?"

"Of course, Chester. But, he helped me when-you know-you weren't there, Chester. I would have lost our home. I was desperate. And-and-he was satisfied with-well with less than he wanted," she said. "I sorta had to do it, Chester."

I began to see I had a problem: that she'd had a problem. It did indeed look like she tried to be faithful to me, in her fucking fashion. "How much money did he give you to make the rent?" I said.

"He paid it all. Every month, for seventeen months: $900 a month. I don't know how much that adds up to, Chester. He felt guilty about you going to prison too. He just asked for a little relief every now and then. And, he didn't really push it," she said.

"What was wrong with his own wife giving him relief?" I said.

"He says he needs variety, you know, some guys need more than one woman can give," she said. My look must have cued her.

"Chester, it's true. Some people do need more than one person to do-be…"

"Say it, Meagan, you meant 'do it with'," I said. She squirmed in her seat, but nodded a yes.

"I guess so," she said finally.

"Meagan what am I going to do with you. Look, this is the final word on this if you want to be with me… " I started.

"You mean you'll forgive me! You'll stay with me now," she said.

"Just shut up and listen. We're gonna try, Meagan, but I am a one woman man, and if you want me around, you are as of now a one man woman; no negotiation-none. Am I clear?" I said.

"Yes sir," she said. "Anything, I'll do anything you say if only you'll stay, Chester. I need you. I really do, Chester."

I nodded but slowly. I wasn't sure she could stave off the inevitable assaults of the bad guys out there. This woman, my woman, was weak. She could be sold a bill of goods by anybody. But, after a year and a half inside; I needed her worse than she needed me. And, I wanted her. I'd take care of Mr. Don Carlton in due time. His ass was going to be mine. ****** We'd stayed the night in the hotel and fucked ourselves into a state of physical disability. God she was hot, or, maybe it was me that was desperate, who the hell knew. And, in the morning we did it again, twice, before packing up and hitting the road.

We talked a little on the road home, but in between talks, and in the back of my mind I wondered what the hell I was doing. I had just had some of the greatest sex I'd had in years, with a wife who had been cheating on me even after I was in prison.

That she was desperate to save the house and survive, I understood; yes, that I understood. That the guy who had cuckolded me and, in my opinion, had been the cause of me going to prison, was still cuckolding me, had agreed to help her for sexual favors, I did not understand. He, Mr. Carlton had to know I was not going to be happy when I got out, and I wasn't. And, I did not understand how my wife could not realize how badly I was going to take it when she saw me.

An outsider not going through it all might see my path to be simple and straight forward: dump the cheating woman and screw over the interloper. But they were not enduring the inner turmoil that I was going through. They did not know Meagan. Meagan was not a military genius. She simply reacted to the calamities that beset her, always took the shortest and easiest way out. Anything more complicated was simply beyond her. So, to reiterate, what the hell was I doing, and what the hell was I going to do.

We pulled into the driveway at around noon-thirty. The house looked the same except some of the bushes were pretty overgrown. The garage door needed painting, but it had that even before I left. I'd be getting to it as soon as I could-why was I thinking of garage doors?

Meagan watched me as I took in the scene. "You're home, my husband, and those awful days in that place are behind you forever. I promise to protect you; I do," she said.

I looked over at her. She was being sincere. The truth was that I needed her to protect me; or, maybe love me was the right way to say it, in spite of her failings and continued messin' with Carlton. I needed her to care for my heart, and that was an absolute and totally unadorned fact.

Water under the bridge, as brackish as it was, was still water under the bridge, and this was the dawning of a new beginning for us. Still, in the back of my mind, I knew that sooner or later I was going to have to deal with mister asshole. I would be ready for him this time, and I was going to get my pound of flesh one way or another, one fucking ounce at a time; and, I was not going to go back to prison for the doing of it either. ****** Initially things were idyllic around the house. I took a few days to get reacquainted my-our-place before I went looking for work.

I landed a job in less than a week. It was at a Radio Shack. Pay was bad, but the work was actually interesting; in the joint, technology had become my passion. Now I had the resources to discover its many facets, and I was determined to do just that.

There was a definite side benefit to the job too. By the end of the first week on the job, I had some things that sooner or later I was going to need; it turned out to be sooner.

I had my home phone wired to a recorder in the garage before the end of day three on the job. I couldn't afford a computer for our home yet, and the old one we had had broken down, who knew how; but the recorder would be enough for now. Plus, I had acquired a smaller-very small-micro-recorder that was going to be my main backup whenever I was out and about just in case. All, I needed now was a sixgun, but I was on parole and I wasn't going there.

At the end of the first week on the job, I was checking the phone for incomings daily. It was on Sunday afternoon while Meagan was shopping that I became privy to a conversation between asshole and my wife for the first time.

"Hello?" said Meagan.

"Well, how's it goin' good lookin'," said Donny baby. "He any more mellow than he was before?"

"Don, no. Don-I-I can't talk to you anymore," she said. "I made a promise to my husband, and I am going to keep it. I have to keep it. Please don't call here anymore, okay."

"Oh, I see, you need me so I get a little, but now that he's back, you dump me is that it?" he said.

"You have a beautiful wife, Don. She will take care of you. I can't anymore," said Megan.

"Did you tell him about us?" he said.

"Yes, well, mostly," she said.

"I'm guessing mostly did not include the weekends at the cabin," he said.

So she'd lied to me. Well, I kinda knew she had minimized things. I just hadn't realized she'd minimized things that much! I was upset, but not upset enough-yet.

"Don, I have to go. Please don't bother us anymore," she said.

"Tell, me little one, does he know you signed a paper to pay me back for the money I loaned you to make the rent? 'Cause if you're cutting me off, I wanna be paid back. If not I'm taking the house. Got it?" he said. "I get the pussy I want and you get to keep your house-simple."

"I-I-Don, that's not fair-I-I-you know, gave you stuff, did stuff for you…"

"And what was that little one?" He said.

"You know, stuff?" she said.

I'd heard enough. The asswipe was blackmailing her. Well, I had him on tape. That was a start. Not enough, but a start. ****** I sat in the foyer waiting for the man to call me in. I didn't have an appointment, but I did have an in; the guy owed me.

"Hello, Chester," said the banker.

"Hello, Charlie," I said.

"Chester," he said. "I know why you're here. We still have the one thousand dollars you deposited of course; you can have it any time, but, I'm sure you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I now and that's fine, Charlie. But, the thousand is not why I'm here. That is just a special little emergency fund for me just in case. No, I'm here for another reason," I said.

I spent the next half hour explaining things to him.

"Wow!" he said. "But, Chester, that's a lot of money. I don't know…"

"Look Charlie, you remember the night I saved your ass right. Your wife would have gotten everything if I hadn't gotten you outta there. You're the one that said that if I ever needed anything you'd be there. Well, I need that something now. And you will be paid back, okay?" I said. "So, are you there for me, Charlie?"

The banker looked defeated. "Yeah, I am, Chester, I am. You'll get the loan. But, Chester, I know-you know-about you serving time. You gotta job yet?" he said.

"Yes, I got it a few days ago," I said.

"Good, that's very good," he said. "Come by tomorrow. We'll have the check ready for you." I nodded, we shook hands, and I left.

I got home several hours later. It was time to talk to Meagan.

"Where have you been," she said. She was crying, present tense.

"Chester, we need to talk. I-I-I haven't been completely truthful with you," she said. "I need to tell you some things."

"Okay," I said. "I took a seat on the couch while she paced back and forth for some little time before stopping and staring at me.

"Chester, it wasn't just a few handjobs or blow jobs. I fucked him a lot while you were in prison. Mostly at this little cabin place he has up by the lake. We did it all, and yes it was fun, okay. And, if you want to know I wish you had been there with us. Oh, I know you don't have any wish to do that kind of thing, but I did-do," she said. She was wringing her hands. "I've fucked up my chance with you haven't I." She howled.

"Calm down," I said. "Anything else?" She looked at me strangely. She clearly expected that I was going to go off on her, but I already knew what was up, at least mostly, so that was not about to happen; she of course, did not know that I knew or what I was thinking.

"Okay? That's all you've got to say?" she said.

"No, I asked if there was anything else you wanted to tell me," I said.

"Well, he wants me to continue doing him," she said. Now she couldn't look me in the eyes. "Chester, God help me, I still want to, but I don't want to, and I know it makes no damn sense at all. I won't though, I meant what I said about being faithful to you now, and I swear to you that I will keep my promise."

I snickered. "Did you tell him you would?" I said. The answer to this would determine how I would play it from here on out.

"No!" she almost screamed. "I told him I would not and not to bother me or us anymore."

"Okay, then, is that it?" I said. She was actually getting mad that I wasn't being more emotional-that I wasn't getting mad.

"Chester! What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Look, Meagan, it's true confessions time, I guess. I want to get it all out there, so I-we-can deal with it. Okay?" I said.

"Okay," she squeaked, and began to cry again. "There is something else.

"Chester, I signed a paper to pay him back for the money he loaned me to keep up the house payments. Plus, he got me a job that I haven't told you about either, to help with the rest of my expenses. There were expenses, Chester. How do you think I was able to eat and buy gas for the car and stuff!" she said. "But, the money I made was too little to pay him back. I haven't been able to save a dime. Do you understand? I owe him."

"What job?" I said.

"It doesn't matter. I quit the day I picked you up at the-prison," she said.

"I said what job, Meagan?" I said.

She was wringing her hands again. "I was a bar girl. And, before you ask, there was no sex, none, except with him," she said. "I served drinks and got pinched a lot, but that was all."

So it was all out there finally. I had a thought. "What about Bertha in all of this," I said.

"She was always around. I think she has lovers on the side, but I never asked and don't care," she said. "But, Chester-are you mad?"

"I'm not happy, but I knew you were lying that day in the car. I didn't know the details of course, but you are an absolutely terrible liar, Meagan; you really have to give up trying," I said. She threw herself on me and hugged me nearly to the point of pain.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was just-afraid-you know-that I would lose you.

"But, Chester, what are we going to do? We're going to lose the house-everything," she cried.

"No, no we're not. But butthead is going to pay. And, you are going to help me make sure he does. This is for me as much as it is for you. I want you to tell me that you don't owe this blackmailer anything. Say it," I said.

"I don't owe him anything, so there," she said.

"Okay this is how it's going to play out," I said. I spent the next little while explaining to her what she had to do and when and how she was going to accomplish doing it. She just kept nodding as I talked. ******

"You've made the right decision, Meagan," said Don. "You won't be sorry. And, hubby never has to know, and that worthless bitch of mine doesn't give a damn anyway, so we're home free." His smile was almost sinful in its expression of satisfaction.

He came closer to her. His hands cupped her breasts.

The door slammed open. "Donald Carlton, you are under arrest," said the cheap suit.

"What the fuck!" he said. He struggled with the two uniforms that cuffed him and led him out. He screamed back to Meagan still not getting it. "Meagan, call my wife to get me out on bail!" Meagan wasn't listening.

?"I'm right here, Donald," said Bertha.

"Oh good, tell these guys… " he started.

"You're going down, asshole, for attempted rape and blackmail if I have my way. I heard the way you talked about me. Get your own bail. I'm getting a divorce, and everything you love along with it!"

He looked from Bertha to Meagan to the cops and started screaming that he was being set up. "She wanted it! She asked me to help her… " "You have the right to remain silent… " The cops were getting it on. Stupid didn't realize that he had already admitted to blackmail and had been caught red handed in an apparent sex by intinidation: Meagan had played her role to the nines. Mr. Carlton was toast.

The trial on charges of blackmail and attempted rape was summary and without the benefit of jury: the defendant's choice. The judge, going with the facts, sentenced him to twenty-four months in the state pen.

Cuffed and led out through the front doors of the court house, his head snapped around when he heard my voice.

"You'll like it at state," I said. "Well, then again, maybe not. Arrogance doesn't play well there."

"Fuck you. I had your wife and she liked it. Remember that one, asshole," he said, as they hustled him out.

"We have to pay him still," said Meagan. "I know that we do. I mean the money."

"I've already paid Bertha. She can give him his half when he gets out-or not. Her choice. The money is community property," I said.

"What! Where?" said Meagan.

"I took out a loan. And I've got a job. I'll pay off the loan; it was cheap at twice the price. I'm gonna make a career out of computer stuff." I said. She smiled. "I like all of this software and hardware stuff that I've been messin' with."

Epilogue:

Bertha ended up getting their insurance business. Don ended up getting an extra year for an escape attempt from the minimum security he finally ended up at; his stupidity was almost beyond belief. His new digs were my old digs; he wouldn't like it near as much as I did.

Meagan and I had a lot to sort out. It would take time, but time is something we had plenty of. And besides, she had something else to occupy her mind now, and it was growing in her belly.

-----------------------------

   Series:Michael Metcalf Longden: Hated of the Gods
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She decides that the marriage is a lost cause which all but destroys his soul.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/70858/michael-metcalf-longden-hated-of-the-gods
Published:2012-04-16
Michael Metcalf Longden: less than beloved of the gods?

Note to the readership:

I have noticed, in recent times, that many commenters have criticized the undeniable truth that I mostly use similar-they are never exactly the same-themes and plot lines in my stories. Hmm, guilty. Not apologetic at all, but definitely guilty. Why do I do it? Simple, I like the theme. The ideas are not all original either, and any number of LIT and SOL authors follow the same script. That said…

I have also noted that some of my most virulent detractors still never fail to read my stuff. I am still waiting for anyone-I mean anyone-to tell me why. Since none have so dared, I am left to conclude that they, my detractors, don't know why, and/or that they secretly love my stuff and can't get enough of it. I find this curious.

I am always writing, and if it matters, I am about to seriously launch into a new genre-romance-which I tested the waters with in Beauty and the Beast some little time back. Interesting result with that one. The score was high and the comments and letters were almost universally favorable (score 4.38; 19 letters; and 14 comments) ; but, that said, the downloads for B&B; were the lowest I have ever had per any story that I have written (currently 9,700 after five months). John and Chloe, my latest LW formulaic story, after just eight hours, reads out at: 3.62, 23 comments, and 9,000 downloads). Makes one wonder.

So, while I am about to makes some pretty major changes on the one hand; I will still be doing the LW stuff as well. I just hope that those out there who hate me keep reading. Though, I would, at some point, sure like to know why. I bettin' it'd be a kick.

My best to all, especially to those who threaten, cajole, and insult me.

Matt

******

My name is Michael Metcalf Longden, no relation to the famous jockey-well, that I know of. The gods hate me. No, that's not a misprint, not a typo, not a mistake of any kind; and, I do mean that they hate me, and I mean they "all" hate me, all of the Olympian gods. Evidence? Oh I have evidence. Boy, do I ever have evidence.

******

It had been a long day at the plant, but at least it was a TGIF situation. I work for WESTCO mfg. I do electrical installations. WESTCO fabricates houses believe it or not, and they are selling like hotcakes. And why not? They go for half the price of brick and mortar places and they are just as durable and good. But, it can be hard work, especially if schedules are not being met, and that is exactly what's been going on these last weeks.

I came in through the back door, and collapsed onto the couch hoping to get a little TLC from the little woman. What I got instead rocked my ship for damn sure.

"You look tired, Mike. You okay?" she said.

"I am, and yes," I said, responding to her concerns.

"Mike, can we talk? Would that be all right?' she said. I had the feeling that this was not going to be one of those conversations that made my day, but I nodded in the affirmative.

"Sure, I guess so," I said.

"Mike, I want a divorce?" she said. Suddenly I was no longer tired, well I was, but I was also alert as hell!

"What the fuck?" I said.

"It isn't working for us, Mike. You know it. I know it. Hell, half of our friends know it," she said. "I still love you on some level; I do. But, I can't go on anymore; It's like were just free-floating, aimlessly, from day to day, with no end in sight.

"Who the hell is this 'we' that says it isn't working for us, and what do you mean by that, Florence Longden, nee Bromley? I've never given you any reason to think, that I thought, our marriage wasn't working! Is something going on here that I've been missing, Flo? Is there!" I said.

"Mike, it isn't working. There's no spark there anymore. You're always working at the plant. I'm always working at the salon, mister Fielding's. We're just aging with no real future worth looking forward to. Mike, I think it's time for us to end it, for both our sakes," she said.

"You've got a lover, don't you, Flo. Tell me straight, that's it isn't it Flo. Good lookin' woman like you. Sure you do," I said. "Who is he, Flo? Who!" I said. She bridled at my rising tone of voice.

"It doesn't matter, and it doesn't alter the fact that our marriage is dead and has been for a long time," she said.

"Who is it Flo? Who's been fucking mama bear in my bed?" I said. I could see her gathering herself; she was about to go on the offensive.

"It's Mark Fielding. But, I was thinking about this long before I hooked up with Mark.

"Look, I'm not going to be asking for anything. Mark will be taking care of me. You can have the house and everything in it. I only ask that you make this as easy as possible for us, and not make any waves. I'm concerned about the children and their reactions. I am trying to not hurt you anymore than is necessary, Mike. I know this is a surprise. But frankly, Mike, you've just got to man up and deal with it.

"You're young enough to find yourself another woman, Mike. Do it, and get on with your life; and, let me and Mark get on with ours. Okay?" she said. I was fuming and bitter and angry and all kinds of-well-jealous.

"Deal with it? Man up? Well, fuck you, you cheating whore!" I grabbed my coat as I stalked out and away from the only woman I have ever loved.

I wanted to kill the both of them. Here we were at our common age of forty-three looking to be starting over. And our kids, Nell and Christina, off at college and graduating soon: Nell this year and Christina next. What were they going to be saying? Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be nice. Either they'd back her, or they'd back me; and either way there was going to be conflict. I was at the stage of life where I was wanting to travel some with my wife, have some fun-well deserved fun in my opinion-but now the rug had been pulled out from under me, and I was flat on my ass with no woman to share my-our-dreams with. And yes, we'd had dreams Flo and I. Well, cancel those!

I needed a drink real bad. Sinbad's would do just fine; they liked me there; better than my wife did apparently.

"Yeah, Jimmy, I need one and I need it bad. A double: some of that blue label Smirnoff," I added.

"You look down, kinda desperate, guy. Problems at home?" he said

"You could say that. Marriage just cratered. I'm here on a mission. A mission to forget. Think you can facilitate my aims here, good buddy?" I said.

"That's what I do best," he said. "He pointed to a picture of himself behind the bar with a tag under it that spelled it out: The Great Facilitator. He'd gotten the idea from former President Reagan's unofficial title of The Great Communicator; well, that's what he told everybody.

The night dragged on, and after a very short time I was just draggin'.

"Last call," he said. I'd been sitting there except for potty breaks for the past five hours. It was 1:00AM. "You okay to drive? I can call you a cab."

"Yeah, I'm okay, Jimmy. It's only a couple of miles to my place. I'll be okay," I said. He looked dubious, but he didn't push it. I appreciated that. Well, I did until five minutes later.

"Get out of the car, sir," said the uniform. I looked at him through what I knew were tear streaked eyes. Yeah, yeah, I'd been cryin' so shoot me in the ass.

I got out. "You been drinkin', sir?" he said. I decided to be straight with him. I'd read somewhere that lyin' to the cops was a sure fire way to piss 'em off.

"Yes sir, some," I said. He did the breathalyzer thing with me. I'd never done that one before. Shouldn't have done it this time; well, what choice would I have had anyway. He didn't cuff me, but he did put me in the back of his cruiser. I asked him about my car. He assured me it would be taken care of. It was only a week later that I discovered what he meant by "taken care of." It cost me five hundred; that on top of the $1,100 fine and seventy-two hours in the slam. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

I sat cooling my heels in the station along with half a dozen other perps waiting for someone to lock us up. The woman across from me was a nano-thread from breaking loose with the tears. Hell, I could relate; I'd been cryin' off and on half the night.

"You okay, girl?" I said. As if I could have done anything to help her out regardless. She ignored me, well, at first she ignored me. I just nodded when I realized she wasn't going to respond.

"No, I'm not all right," she said, finally. "They busted me, and the family will without a doubt soon be disowning me, and I have no money, and no one to call. So no, I'm fucked and have no hope. All right!" she said.

"What's your name? I said, not unkindly. I offered her my hanky; it was the only thing they hadn't taken away from me.

"Mildred Lake," she said. "Profession? Prostitute. Actually this was my first day on the job. Two guys screwed me, rather badly. Made myself a couple of hundred. The third one was a cop," she said. "Oh, and surprise-surprise, they confiscated all my money."

"Bad day for me too," I said. "Anyway, wish you luck."

"Yeah, well same to you," she said.

The big uniform came for us and we were transported to the lockup. I was informed about my arraignment and told I could ask for a lawyer or just take my chances with the judge. I opted for the latter. So far I'd done everything wrong and my latest decision just continued the tradition. I didn't see the woman, the Prostie, after the door slammed on the van that transported us. I wondered what happened to her.

Oh, and in case anyone is interested, no, I did not call my soon to be ex-wife to help me. What would have been the point? The humiliation would have been worse than everything else put together. This is one I had to handle myself.

The uniform had been straight with me; I was arraigned the following morning, pled guilty, and got what I deserved. I had the money for the fine, but there was no bailing me out of the seventy-two hours; I had to serve 'em.

The neophyte prostitute was right behind me in court. They offered her bail, and no seventy-two hours for her. Well, hers was a victimless crime, I guess.

"I don't have any money, your honor," she said. She looked real sad. The judge was talking to her.

"Hmm, no priors, but no money for bail. Well, young lady, I'm torn, I'm going to go light on you, but you best not be found in this room again. Am I understood?" he said.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Ten days," he said. I leaned over to ask my appointed lawdog a question. He looked at me kinda funny, and shrugged. He was her lawdog too.

"Your honor," he intoned. "Mister Longden will put up the lady's bail," he said. The judge, the prostie, and the clerk all looked over at me as though I were some kind of alien.

"You know this woman, mister Longden?" said the judge.

"Barely, just met her here; well, at the police station last night," I said. "I got the money; I'll pay it."

"Okay, so ordered," he said. And the gavel sounded. The lady mouthed me a thank you as they led me out.

******

They let me out Monday morning. They told me about my car and where to bail it out; five hundred was the tariff. Talk about overkill, but I was in no position to whine about it, and, I had been driving drunk.

I left by what I supposed was the back door. She was there, my wife, talk about humiliating. There she stood: tall, tawny-haired, dazzling figure, and dressed to kill; I wondered who it was for.

"Mikey," she said. "What have you done?" were the first words out of her mouth.

"What do you care? You dumped me," I said. I took out my cell; I had to get me a cab; she watched me with interest; I suppose it was interest.

"What are you doing?" she said. I gave her my get out of my face look, and she just sighed.

"I'm getting me a cab to go get my car if it's any of your business," I said. "And, who the hell told you I was here?"

"Save your money. I'll drive you over," she said. "And, to answer your question, a friend of Mark's told him, and Mark told me; the friend is the desk sergeant." she nodded toward the building behind me.

"Fucking wonderful. And no, I do not want you to give me a ride. Got it!" I said. "I don't want the only one I ever loved-you-tantalizing me with her looks, her smell, her voice. No fucking indeed. Just get away from me, Flo. I really don't want to be around you!" I think she was starting to cry, but that may have been more wishful thinking on my part than anything else.

"Oh, Mikey," she said. "Okay, just remember, I'll be around if you need me. Oh, and I moved out of the house these last couple of days. So you can do what you want with it," she said. Now, I started to tear up. Our house had been where all of my-our-now shattered dreams had been formulated. Jesus it was sad. She noticed my tears and started to reach out to me, but pulled her hand back.

"I'll be selling it. You'll get your half when I get it done," I said. "Now please leave me alone. Go back to your rich lover! Go fuck him. Just leave me the fuck alone. Okay!" I said. She turned and left. I knew for a fact she was tearing up now. Well, hell, maybe she felt a little guilt for what she'd done to me. How fucking appropriate.

******

I'd always been among the first to arrive at work in the morning, but since I'd lost my inspiration that was no longer the case. I mean what was the point. I'd worked my ass off to set us up so we could live well, and now-well-there was no "we" anymore. Jesus that hurt.

"Mike, the boss wants to see yuh," said Amos. Amos Crabtree had been my friend since the eighth grade. And, delivering the message to me, he could not look me in the eye.

"Amos?" But, he was gone. I headed on up to Bill Shuler's office.

He was shuffling papers, and not looking at me. Kathy shooed me as soon as I'd arrived, but once in, there appeared to be considerably less urgency than I had been led to believe was the case.

Throwing the last of his no doubt vitally important papers down in disgust, he looked at me.

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey what am I going to do with you," said Bill. It was not a question.

"Sir?" I said.

"Mikey, I know you're going through a bitch of a period right now, but Mikey, we still have a factory to run. I need all of you guys to focus. You know we're behind. Mike, we've got to get you to perform up to your usual standards; hell, my job depends on it as much as yours," he said. The message was clear: I'd either shape up or I'd be gone. Fuckin'-A!

What social life I was having pretty much revolved around my usual seat at Sinbad's. Being at best a prime example of mister average, the ladies were not lining up to chat me up. But, the upside to it all was that Jimmy and I were becoming fast friends. I usually got a tad extra in my drinks than the average patron and it was appreciated.

I hadn't heard word one from Flo since that day behind the lockup. I thought about her hourly; hell, I thought about her virtually every waking minute. Her image was the one thing indelibly imprinted on my conscious mind. I guess this would be a good time to describe us.

Me? I'm maybe five-seven, one sixty, brown hair, brown eyes, and in pretty fair shape; the factory was partly responsible for this last. Flo? She's a shade taller than me at five-eight, one-twenty, light brown hair, Brown eyes, and also in excellent shape. Oh, and her shape was pretty much wonderful. But, now, she was someone else's wonderful. Every time I thought about her I wanted to cry: I needed her. The bad news? She didn't need me. It wasn't supposed to work this way. No damn it!

I was constantly running our last conversations together through my head. She'd told me to go out and find me someone who would make me happy. What she didn't realize, or if so she was trying to minimize it, was that I could never replace her. I'd invested in her too deeply, too completely to cavalierly entertain thoughts of another woman. I needed her and only her.

Still, all of the above being true, I was looking for a little companionship if only to ameliorate the blow my ego had sustained-the ruinous blow to my ego. I decided to do something different. The bar scene wasn't working for me. There were women there on the prowl right enough, but evidently none of them were on the prowl for someone like me.

I hadn't been to church in a long time, but here I was in front of the St. Martin's rectory. I had an appointment with Reverend Kohl in five minutes. I waited in my car: it wouldn't do to seem to eager, I told myself-read I was chicken to go inside because it would mean that I'd have to talk to the man, and as much as I needed to, and I did; I didn't want to. Finally, I headed up the steps. The door opened before I could knock. An elderly lady, the housekeeper I guessed, smiled benignly at me. "Right this way mister Longden," she said. "Pastor Kohl is expecting you." I nodded and followed her down a corridor and into a well-appointed office. "The pastor will be with you in a moment, sir. Please have a seat." I did.

I leaned pack in the padded chair and closed my eyes. Why was I here. I hadn't been a regular in church since high school. Christmas, Easter, a few other times each year with Flo, and that was about it. Yet, I felt that I knew Pastor Kohl well. The door swung open and the big silver headed man strode in-strode in.

He almost fell into the swivel chair behind the too large desk and eye'd me. "I'd ask you how you're doin' Mike, but I'm afraid I can guess," he said.

"She's told you?" I said. While it is true that I was a sometime churchgoer, my wife was more a true believer, went to church every Sunday and often to church do's during the week. It was no surprise that she might have said something to Reverend Kohl.

"Yes, 'fraid so. More, it was in various church activities that she actually got to know the other guy on a personal level. They work at the same place, I know, but evidently he hadn't made a move on her until they became part of the activities here. Let me hasten to say that I knew nothing of the romantic side of things until a couple of days ago. It was the same day you made your appointment to see me," he said. I realized I was shaking my head.

"Figures," I said.

"When you called you mentioned that you'd wanted to talk to me about some personal problems. That still the case?" he said.

"I don't know reverend. Yes, I guess so. I'm sick at heart and lost. She actually told me to go out and find myself another woman, like she'd found herself another man," I said.

"And have you?" he said.

"Not really. I spend some time at Sinbad's looking for someone to talk to, but no luck and really no interest on either my part or that of the women there, if it comes to that," I said. He nodded.

"A bar is not necessarily the worst place in the world to find companionship, Mike, but probably not the best place overall either. And, wherever you might look it really doesn't matter a whit if you really aren't into it. Women can sense that a man is needy and really carrying around a lot of baggage. Most of them, the ones looking, have the same kind of baggage," he said.

"I don't know reverend; I really only want her back. It's been real hard not having her around. I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown if the truth be known. I need her real bad. But, she ain't around, and I'm just kinda floundering. It's affecting my work to the point where I might lose my job if I can't find a way to get by it: I mean being dumped," I said. He nodded.

"Mike, I know you. I know you're in love with your wife. All of those years? Your children. The emotional investment in her and in your family. I know it's tough. But, it happens. I know what you're going through. And I know that nothing I can say today is going to still the turmoil in your heart and soul. In time you will be able to deal with it, at least to some degree. But, in the short term, I can say with some certainty that it's going to be bad.

"What I will promise you, is that I will be here if you need an ear, or even a shoulder," he said.

"I thank you for that, reverend. I'm gonna be more of a regular in church from now on," I said.

"Mike, for what it's worth. When Florence came in the other day, she made the point that she still loved you on some level, but that she had fallen head over heels for this other guy. She feels awful for what she's done to you, and by inference to the children. She actually came to me, not to confess her indiscretions. She came to me to see if I could advise her on how to soften the blow that she's laid on you. She's worried about you," he said. I nodded.

"Really?" I said. I was beginning to tear up again. Seemed like I was always doin' that.

"Yes. She's sick about it, Mike, but like you-in a sense-she doesn't know how to handle it," he said. "I've prayed about it Mike. You know, that the Lord would see his way clear to do right by the two of you. And no, I am not condoning what Florence is doing, not at all. But, in my line of work condemning someone for being, well, maybe foolish is the word, isn't in the job description," he said.

We talked for some little time more. In the end, the man advised me to go slow, to talk to the kids, to make no immediate plans, and to try to not be too angry. All easier said than done of course, but I did appreciate his support. And, I did get some ideas from his words, some direction if that was the way to say it. I would go slow and talk to the kids and avoid doing anything stupid. I finally had my thinking cap on, and I was employing it. If I could get my woman back, I would. If not, I was not going to be throwing myself off the balcony. The next step? That was yet to be determined.

******

FLORENCE:

"You thinking about him again," he said. I looked over at the tall, dark, and handsome man who had become my lover and my future husband.

"Guilty," I said. "I wonder how he's doing. You know, laying it on him like I did; well, it was quite frankly, cruel."

"Flo, he'll be fine. He's a man: a tough, strong man. He'll be fine. Yes, he's going to miss you. Any man would. But, he'll adjust, get over it, survive. He has to. Flo, it's the way of the world," said Mark Fielding. "When we return, maybe we could up and have a sit-down with him if you think it would be a good idea. You know, make him realize that you still want to have a relationship with him on some level. I mean you do have two children together." She eye'd him.

"I don't know. Maybe we could try. It might be worth a try.

"Jesus, Mark, I just hope he can hook up with another woman. Someone who will treat him right. Better than I have for damn sure," I said.

"I'm sure he'll find someone sooner or later, Flo. But for the next two weeks we're on this cruise. This is our time. Okay? I want you to be happy. And, I'm betting that Mike would want that for you too," he said. I snickered.

"You know, you're right, he would. It's the kind of guy he is," I said.

I loved how he put his big strong arms around me. He did that now, as we gazed out over the blue Pacific. Mazatlan would come into view in the morning. Mark was right. This was our time. Mikey would have his day too, I'd do my best to see to that, somehow, but not for the next thirteen days.

******

Nell was sitting across from me. "Yes, daddy, mom came up to see us. I guess the day after-well-the day after… " she started. It was all I could do to keep from breaking up in front of my daughter.

"Where's Christina?" I said, breaking in on our, her, train of thought.

"She's coming. Be here in twenty minutes or so," said Nell. I nodded.

I'd called the girls for the inevitable little meeting to hash out the thing that needed hashing out. How we would be seeing each other in the future was my main concern.

I was about to lay it on them, and it didn't look to be something that they were going to take all that well. But, it was a non-negotiable thing as far as I was concerned.

"Hi daddy," said Christina plopping down in the seat next to her sister across from me. She was eighteen minutes early.

"Hello, baby," I said. The next minutes were spent talking about everything but the elephant in the room. But we finally got around to it.

"Daddy, mom is in the wrong in this. But-well-she is our mother," said Nell.

"Yes, daddy. Neither of us like it, but I guess there isn't much we can do about it," said Christina.

"Girls, I don't expect you to cut your mother off. But, I will not be around when she is. I can't be around her boyfriend either-ever! That's ironclad, girls. So, I'll call to set up times when I can see you guys. All I ask is that she not be there when I come by. Is that okay with the both of you?" I said.

"And one more thing, please. I would appreciate it if you would not talk about me to her, nor about her to me. She's decided to cut me off from her; and well, it's been real hard on me. Real hard!" I said.

"Daddy, what about Christmas and the other holidays and graduation and everything. And when Nell and I have babies and all of that; and we will someday," said Christina. "There's just going to be times when you and mom have to be there at the same time." I had a sinking feeling that I couldn't shake.

"Girls, if they are there; I won't be. If I come expecting them to not be there, and they are, I will leave immediately. I cannot be around that woman-my woman-knowing she is cuckolding me with that man. You have no idea how badly that hurts me. If that makes me some kind of back-assed wimp, so be it. Now, am I clear!" I said, a little more forcefully than maybe I needed to.

"The two of them looked at each other then back at me. "Okay, dad, if that's the way it has to be. It's going to be hard for us, but I suppose we understand," said Nell. Christina nodded her reluctant agreement.

"Good," I said.

******

Sinbad's should have been named Singood's. It sure as heck was good for me. James Pierson was my main man; boy was he ever. Who the hell needed a woman's shoulder to cry on, I had Jimmy. I decided that he was more than enough. But, a horrible thought crossed my mind! What if Sinbad's closed! All I needed was maybe fifty more years of comfort from Jimmy and that fellow from Tennessee, Jack Daniels. It's all I needed, and I was sure I'd be good. I made a mental note that if I continued going to church as I had the three weeks since my meet up with Reverend Kohl and my girls, that I was going to add in a few extra prayers to ensure that Jimmy not die before me. What the heck, the way I figured it, God owed me for letting my heart get trampled underfoot by my wife and her lover. All I was asking for was a little surcease from my mental and emotional agony. Was that too much to pray for? Hell no! I told myself.

The only days I missed being in attendance at Jimmy's were Sundays. The evenings during the week saw me limit myself to a couple of JDs on the rocks. Friday and Saturday nights there was no limit. I was being careful ever since the warning I got from the boss to straighten up and fly right. I did need the job.

Flo had honored her decision to give me the house. And, I had decided to keep it and live there. But, that decision was a mixed thing. The mortgage was large. And, now I had to make the payments with no help from her.

I had been served, at work, and the deal about the house was indeed in the divorce documents-just wanted to make sure I was being clear here.

Sinbad's did have one very bad weakness, however, they allowed damn near anybody to come in. And, they did, come in that is.

I hadn't seen her until it was too late. I was seated in a booth at the side of the place near the front. She slid in beside me, him, across from me. I was literally trapped. And, I was frightened: frightened that I would start bawling again.

"Hi Mikey," she said, brightly. "How are you?" She covered my left hand, my free hand-my other was holding my drink-with hers. For a moment I was speechless.

"How am I? You actually asked me that?" I said. She frowned, but it was an empathetic frown.

"Mikey, you and I, we will always have a relationship. I mean we do have two babies together don't we?" she said.

"To answer your questions in the order asked, Flo: one, I was fine till a moment ago, and two, so what if we did have children together; it didn't help keep us together did it. So if you will kindly get out my way, so I can leave, I would appreciate it," I said.

"Mikey, please, just a moment or two of your time, okay?" she said.

"Not with him here," I said. I don't care if I have to climb over the table to escape; I will if I have to." She frowned and this time there was no empathy, more like frustration. She nodded at her lover. He rose and headed for the bar.

"Okay?" she said. I just nodded without saying anything one way or another.

"Mike, I know you got the divorce papers. I kept my word to you," she said. "I am not out to screw you over, really. I want happiness for you, for the both of us, Mikey, really. I need you to be happy."

"No chance of that, Flo. To be happy a man has to have his heart and soul in one piece. Mine are broken and trampled in the dirt. So, you lose out on that one. Well, and that seems fair to me. I lose the love of my life, and you lose your hope that I'll ever be happy again. Like I said, seems fair to me," I said.

"Mikey, you have to get over me. I know I hurt you real bad. I-I-didn't know how not to. And oh my God how I wanted not to! Believe that one Mikey. I mean it.

"Mikey, I know you spoke to the girls. They told me. Mikey, please lighten up on your requirement that we never be together with them. Please! That will be so hard. Please. Okay?" she said.

"No. And, I will tell you why, Flo. I dream about you every night. I dream about making love to you almost every hour of every day. I have nightmares of you spreading for him, cuckolding me. Can you even begin to imagine how that makes me feel?

"I come here every night, Flo, to try and make it so I won't hurt so bad. It helps a little. But really? Not all that much. Seeing you, smelling you, talking to you or hearing you talk to others: it would kill me, kill whatever shred of emotional sanity I have left. So no, I will not voluntarily be around you ever again. The memories are hard enough to deal with. Making new ones that include the man who made his cuckold would destroy me. I don't need it," I said. She was actually beginning to cry.

"Jimmy, I had no… " she suddenly stood and almost ran from the table and out of the bar.

"So what did you say to that woman that made her run outta here like that," said the woman who had just taken a seat in my booth across from me, the one most recently occupied by my soon to be ex's boyfriend.

"Mildred? Mildred Lake?" I said.

"The one and only," she said. "Buy a girl a drink?"

"Okay. Sure, I could use the company," I said. "And to answer your question. That was my soon to be ex. She wants to have a relationship with me because of our children. I said no. She thinks I am being unreasonable. Hence, her dramatic leave taking."

"Really, you turned down her peace offering?" said Mildred.

"Yep, really," I said. "So, anyway, Mildred, as one convict to another, how have you been?" She smirked.

"Not too bad. Still poor. Still looking to make a buck. Can't seem to find any work that I'm qualified for; and still again, hope springs eternal. And no, I gave up spreading for strangers," she said, "too risky." I nodded.

The conversation had hit one of those silent times; we had both, apparently, run out of words. She looked at me and smirked.

"Can I buy a vowel?" she said. I laughed.

"No, no," I said. "It's just, well, I barely know you in spite of our exciting time together, a couple of months ago."

"Well, sometimes a stranger, and I'm almost a stranger, is easier to talk to than someone who might be a little too close to things. Know what I mean?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess that's so," I said. "Anyway, it's past the dumping stage now; she's divorced me. Got maybe four or five months to go. I've met with the kids; they know my position on everything. Talked with my minister; he was of some little help; he's a good guy. And I guess you saw the latest episode in living color; I mean her running out of here. Tune in for the next installment of Mikey and Flo-and Flo's cuckolding loverboy."

"Mike? I can call you that, right?" she said.

"Of course," I said.

"Okay. Mike, can I ask you: do you want her back? I mean would you even take her back after what she's done to you?" said Mildred. She'd stopped me with her questions. The way she'd phrased them made me think.

My soon to be ex had crushed my very soul. She'd cheated on me with a miserable excuse of a human being. She'd gone ahead and divorced me and indirectly insulted me in the doing of it-that by telling me I could have the house implying she was going to be getting something far better because her new man could take better care of her than I ever could. And, what really got to me, was her actually expecting me to go along with her soft pedaling, if not wholly accepting, what she'd done to me. So did I really want her back, or just wish I could find a way to overcome the unutterable humiliation she'd laid on me.

"I'm not sure," I said. "I mean since you put it that way."

"You wanna get your self-respect back?" she said. I snorted.

"Like that's going to be happening any time soon," I said. "My humiliation over the way she did me, I mean the in-my-face "deal with it" attitude of the woman. Now that I think about it, maybe not. I do know that I still don't ever want to see her again.

"Oh my, you do have it bad," she said.

"Have what bad?" I said.

"Humiliation-itis," she said. "You need to do something about that."

"Yeah, well, if you've got the cure please feel free to let me in on it. I'm dyin' here," I said.

"Why did she dump you?" she said. "Do you know? Really?"

"His money. He's handsome enough too, I suppose. He's taller than she is; I'm not. I'm just a poor old electrician doing the hand-to-mouth daily bread thing," I said.

She smiled. "Okay then, I do have the cure. Get the money. Prove his height advantage is really a drawback. And, handsome-yourself-up," she said.

"Right, and just how would you suggest I go about achieving those three little miracles?" I said. She only smiled.

"You in this for as long as it takes, or do you just want to whine and cry for the next several years," she said. I gave her a look that pretty much answered her question.

"Well, then good," she said. "This is what we're going to do."

"We? We're gonna do," I said

"Yes, you need a manager," she said. Again my look did my talking for me.

"Look, Mike, I wasn't always a failed prostitute. I've been to college. Didn't graduate, but I did three years at FSU.

"Really," I said.

"Yes. I was an assistant to Dr. Philbert Weintraub. He was a tenured guy in the Psyche dept. I learned a lot there, helped him with his research, I did," she said.

"Research? What research?" I said.

"He wanted to know what it took to become a virtuoso in any discipline, in anything-an expert if you will. He found out, and I know what he found out: and, as a consequence, how to help you with your little problem," she said.

"Oh really?" I said.

"Yes, and you don't wanna know, not yet; it would only intimidate you. But we're gonna put his findings into action. I will tell you that you are looking at two to three years in terms of how we're going to go about this; I mean how we are going to adapt his findings to our needs; how we are going to completely alter the thinking and perspectives of your soon to be ex-wife. That's why I asked if you were in for the long haul or if you just want to be like every other dumped on loser," she said. I was snorting again. She was really beginning to piss me off.

"Three years! I'll be forty-six!" I said.

"You'll be forty-six anyway. You can either prepare yourself for the coming battle or you can prepare yourself to remain what you are," she said.

"And that would be?" I said.

"A loser in the making," she said. "So, are you in or out?" I leaned back in my seat. I wasn't sure of this woman, but she spoke with such authority that I was inclined to have confidence in her. Three years? I guess if I took her up on her offer to be-what-my manager, I would know soon enough if she was full of it, or, unlikely as it seemed at the moment, somehow in the know. In the know about things that I had no ken of.

"In," I said. "But, at some point I would like to know why you didn't finish college: why you are out here on the opposite coast trying to be, and failing to be, a woman of the evening."

"I'll tell you now. The usual, dumped on by my fiancée. Pride in the toilet. A need to get away from all of the well-meaning, but hopelessly inadequate, cadre of friends and family. The lady of the evening thing, well, that was a matter of chance and, I'll admit it, desperation and self-pity," she said.

One thing that did result from my conversation with Mildred Lake was that she moved in with me. She claimed that she had to, "to keep me on the stick and moving forward," was the way she put it.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Looked like she was just out to use me. But, the truth was that I was using her. Even if whatever she was about was bogus, I was pretty sure that I would be getting more than she was out of the deal regardless. The fallacy of my latter conclusion would soon be brought home to me. That, just as the former-her skills at rebuilding the current me-would prove to be more than true, and that much to my overwhelming wonderment.

******

I caught her going thru my closet. There was a lot of room in their now, now that Flo was gone. For me just another melancholy reminder of my-our-former lives together, mine and Flo's. I did notice that Millie'd hung her things-few as they were-in there, but they nowhere came near equaling the tonnage of my wife's wardrobe.

"Something I can help you with?" I said. She never even turned around to acknowledge my interrupting her.

"No, no. I got it okay," she said. "If you want to be useful go get me some large garbage bags, okay?" she said. It was then that I noticed the pile of my clothes off to the side. She was stripping the closet of my clothes and dumping them on the floor.

"What in samhill are you doing," I said.

"Getting rid of about ninety percent of your wardrobe," she said.

"What the fuck?" I said. She turned, finally, and tendered me an exasperated expression.

"Look, Mikey, you have to trust me. I could spend all day telling you what I'm about: what you are going to be experiencing, and gonna be doing over these next two to three years, but that would be a waste of my time because you wouldn't understand, or, understanding, believe me," she said. "So, just go with the flow. Okay?" I shook my head, but I shook it in surrender. And, I didn't know why I surrendered, not really.

Progress with Millie, I liked that name better than Mildred, was slow, but I had determined to be patient, at least up to a point. One thing that had changed in my life, but that had nothing to do with Millie, was that I was now a regular churchgoer. Reverend Kohl and I talked from time to time after services and the like. He was empathetic with my situation and I appreciated that.

My divorce to Flo had another month or so to run before it became final. I was sitting in church feeling a little down, as I usually did, when I was thinking about the past, when it happened.

I was about ten rows back on the far left side of the pew when they slid into the pew at the other end. I didn't notice them at first until the person next to me moved closer to me allowing the new arrivals space. It was then that I glanced in the direction of the newcomers. It was Flo and her asshole. She finally saw me and her look paled. I don't know what my look said to her, but it felt a lot like hurt. I sat for a moment and then got up and hurried out. The goddamn woman found a way to kill me again even while I was in church praying that I could somehow resolve things with her. I was actually on the verge of crying-again-even before I hit the church doors. Jesus! why couldn't I get over the bitch! I did glance back and saw her watching me with a wrinkled brow. I think that for once she was as embarrassed as me, and maybe even a little hurt too. I sure as hell hoped so. I had to do something to get away from that woman. I thought about my options for the next couple of weeks while Millie and I followed a routine that was getting me to become something I never thought that I could become, never even thought about trying to become: a dapper dude, and a ballroom dancer!

She had followed that up, her initial efforts to dress me and train me in the way of civilized manners and such, with dancing lessons from a real pro, a Filipino guy, who had more rhythm than Britney Spears on crack! She added to those, lessons in formal freakin' etiquette. Etiquette for chryssakes! What did a blue collar asshole like me need to know about which fork to use when dining with the President! I sure as hell didn't know. But, all said and done; she was rebuilding me. I had to think that her prof at FSU would not have had the slightest clue, or interest, in her interpretation of his work-his findings as she kept referring to them. But then, what did I know.

Just before the divorce was final. I decided to take a week's vacation time; I needed to get away to try and stop thinking about the end of my world, my marital world, Flo's and my world. I headed for the mountains.

Always good, the mountains, for thinking and clearing one's head. I made a reservation for myself at the lodge in Running Springs and packed to go. Millie understood, and in fact encouraged me to take a little time for myself, a break from our mostly six hours after work "rebuilding of me" routine: dancing, weight training, martial arts-and always-etiquette. I should say here, that my fourteen hour days-counting work and Millie's idea of schooling-had helped a good deal in helping to keep my mind off of my imploded marriage. Hell, after the first few weeks of Millie's efforts, I'd actually begun to resuscitate my cratered ego; not an easy task.

The ride upstate was cathartic; I was more than looking forward to the next several days. Flo and I used to go up at least once a year; we were always able to decompress at the lodge. Days taking long walks, evenings at the cozy little bar or sitting by the fire in our mini-cabin; it was always good. It would be again. Maybe I could even hook up with some single gal wanting to dance a little to the romantic piano music that the bar featured on Friday and Saturday nights; well, Millie's dancing friend had gotten me to realize that I could do a few things on the dance floor without my feeling like an out of place klutz.

Well, you had to know it would happen: the ruination of the well laid plans of mice and men and me-well, and anyway, I was a mouse of that there was no damn doubt.

I arrived on Friday afternoon, checked in, and set up in my little cabin. It was already partly set up and ready for occupancy when I arrived. They'd even set up the fireplace with log and kindling ready to go, appreciating the truth that I would at some point be wanting to light it up. I spent the first evening initially in the bar trading lies with the bartender, Herman Goldberg, and the later part of the evening in front of the fireplace reading the latest thriller.

I was in the little store picking up a couple of things I'd forgotten at the house when I bumped into him. I was just backing up from the counter when I turned and bumped into him. He, he was at least six-four, literally forced me to drop my grocery bag spilling everything out onto the floor.

"Damn I… " I froze in my tracks. It was him, the asshole. I stared at him for a long moment. She came up from behind him and her mouth dropped open at least a foot.

"Mikey! What? How… " she'd run out of words too, at least for the moment.

I started to walk out. I didn't even take the time to pick up the groceries from the floor-twenty-seven dollars' worth. I just wanted out of there. But, I didn't get far. She grabbed me by the arm, with surprising force, and pinned me against the wall just inside the doorway. Her face was no more than eight inches from mine.

"Mikey, I didn't know. I mean it," she said. I nodded.

She looked back toward the asshole and nodded toward the mess on the floor. He got the message and began collecting my stuff.

"Mikey, I'm sorry. But, we're here, you and I, can we talk for a minute or two?" she said.

"Whatever," I said.

"Mikey, you need to stop this jealousy thing or whatever it is. We, you and I need to get on with our lives. Our new lives. I know you still have feelings for me; heck, I still have feelings for you too. It's just that our marriage; well, it was time, Mikey; it was time. I know I hurt you-for which I am more than truly sorry. Again, I just didn't know how else to handle it, the breakup. But, please, can we be friends, at least that" she said.

The big man was done collecting my stuff. He handed them back to me never having said a word; that, at least, was something for which I could be thankful. I did not want any words to pass between him and me. That would not have been good.

I took one last look at my soon to be ex and headed out without having answered her. I heard her call after me. "Mikey, please… " But I was gone.

Outside the store I dumped the groceries in the trash bin and headed for my car. I went back to the cabin, packed up my stuff, and headed on home. I bawled the whole way. I had images of her cuckolding me all night in our used to be favorite vacation place. Him and her, screwing up a storm while I-while I…"

******

Getting back to the house was good for me. I was still hurting a little from having had to yet again lay eyes on my former woman. But, Millie gave me a peck on the cheek, a supportive peck, and I had a visitor-Nell.

"Daddy, you look good," said Nell. Have you lost weight?" she said. "You've done something to yourself."

"You can blame my friend, Millie, here for anything about me that's not the old me," I said, nodding in the direction of my main anchor in my months of travail.

"Millie and I have met, Dad. I came down to see you. Christina will drop by next week. Anyway, Millie and I have talked. But, she didn't say word one about the new you," said my daughter.

"What's goin' on, Nell? You and Christina decide to take turns coming to see me?" I said.

"No, no, nothing like that. She had a project that's due is all.

"Anyway, Millie, so you are helping my dad be-what-different?" said Nell.

"In a way, I guess," she said. "We're doing some things. It's going to be a long process, but he and I have a thing going, and no it's not sexual thing. But, we do have a kind of project of our own. Nothing too radical, but, like I say, it is a project, a long term project."

"Yes, and it's a lot of work," I said, grimacing.

"So where have you been, Dad? I just got in an hour ago. Millie said you went to the mountains, but I guess not since it's only been a couple of days," said Nell.

"No, I went there, but it was… " I hesitated too long; the two women picked up on it.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" said Nell.

"Yes, Mike, I sense something too," said Millie. I sighed.

"Your mother and the asshole were there. It wasn't good," I said. So, I came back," I said.

"You talked with her didn't you, dad," said Nell.

"For a minute," I said. "It was nothing. We ran into each other in the little store there. At the lodge."

"Daddy, did you get into it with him?" said Nell.

"No, no, he was there, but we had no words, not him and me. Just your mother and me," I said.

"Daddy, why did you come back. If you needed a break, like Millie told me earlier, you should have stayed there. Mom wouldn't have bothered you; I know it. We, her and me and Christina, have talked," said Nell. I gave her a look.

"No, Dad, we weren't talking about you, just how we would have to be working around seeing you at different times than her. She had to know about your conditions is all. But, she told us you'd talked about it with her already and she promised us not to bother you. So, I know you could have stayed at the Springs and not have been bothered with them being there too," said Nell.

"Yeah, that would have been cool. I mean with me nearby knowing that they were in another cabin screwing. Yeah, I would have really been able to relax thinking about that," I said.

"Daddy, it's only sex not the end of the world! Men!" said Nell.

"Nell, your dad is still kinda hurt is all. The time will come when everything will have calmed down some. I know it," said Millie.

"I sure hope so," said Nell.

"Me too, if it comes to that," I said.

We all talked for some time, killing a bottle of Sherry between us in the process. Nell finally said her goodbyes and Millie and I headed upstairs. At first to our separate rooms, or so I thought. But, I thought wrong. She had evidently decided, finally, after these last months that it was time to take our so far platonic relationship to the next level, a sexual level. She pulled me along to her room.

"Time for you to fuck me," she said. And she said it so matter-of-factly that I had to wonder at her motivation. But, it had been so long since I had been inside a woman, that I had not only no intention of resisting, I couldn't have even if I'd been so inclined.

"She undressed my unresisting-self as if practiced in the art thereof. Pushing me back onto the bed, she began to slowly undress herself. As her bra fell away, she fell onto the bed on top of me; only her panties were between us.

She began kissing me, at first gently, then with more gusto. She stopped. "Take my panties off," she said. I started to do her bidding, but she stopped me. "No, with your teeth." I smiled. It was my first real smile since Flo abandoned me.

"Okay," I said. As I pulled and tugged at her undies with my teeth, I smelled her woman's body and saw for the first time her bald mons and felt the heat of her inner thighs and swollen pussy lips. A woman in heat is like nothing else in the world. I kissed her secret place and licked her. She actually became squishy as I did my duty.

"Do me," she said. "I'm ready."

"Yes, ma'am. My pleasure," I said. I mounted her and poked at her slit. She had to reach down and guide me inside of her. She was slippery; I popped in with very little difficulty.

I began fucking her, at first slowly and then faster. I blew my load just as she began pushing back against my thrusts doin her best to cum herself. I think she made it; I sure as hell did."

We lay beside each other. "Not half bad," she said. "You ex didn't divorce you because of your penis or your skills. I'm sure of that."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so sure about that," I said.

******

And then there was serendipity. So far the stars had been aligned in such a way as to maximize my misery and, maybe too, Flo's frustrations. Add to that, that if any asshole in the history of Western man had had luck on his miserable side, it had to have been Mark Fielding: he had my woman. All of the above being true and it was; it was all about to change, and that in dramatic fashion.

Fielding's salon #4, the one incidentally that Flo was based at-she did work in others from time to time-was actually close to where I spent the majority of my week nights, Sinbad's, maybe a quarter mile or so away. That said, it was also next door to Cash &Carry; Grocers, which I passed every night as I walked myself the mile and a half it took to get me home-which was also something that Millie encouraged.

The street was almost always quiet this time of night: it was after midnight. As I passed the alley behind the grocers, I heard a ruckus. Three punks were hassling an older man, a tall man, a man I personally knew and hated! Mark Fielding was getting the hell beat out of him. The toughs were all big. Me wading in would get me killed too. I dialed 911 gave them the quick message and started to run toward the little knot of mayhem screaming at the top of my lungs into the now dead phone, but they didn't know that. The toughs stopped their beating on my cuckolder, and gave me a look. They saw me apparently talking on the phone, as I continued to hold the phone to my ear to make the baddies think I was talking to the police. It was decision time for them. They ran.

"I went to the down and damn near-but not quite-out salon owner and checked him for serious injuries. He'd live. I waited for the cops and the EMT guys. They arrived in just under four minutes. They took my statement and I continued my walk home. Fielding and me never spoke to each other, but he recognized me well enough. I felt kinda good. It wasn't much, but it's more than what I'd had before I'd saved the asshole. Yeah, I felt pretty good.

******

It was Sunday morning and I was getting ready to go to church. The knock on my door was not expected, but I did have a date with Millie after church. I guessed she was just early. I answered the door.

"You!" I slammed the door in her face. Oh, I may have been a pussywhipped, whiny, undersized wimp; and, in spite of Millie's efforts, I'd probably never be much else, the way I figured it; but I didn't need to have such shoved in my face by my tormentors every chance they got.

I went back upstairs, and continued getting ready for church. I was still in my underwear and talking to myself when I felt a presence.

"Mikey?" said my ex. I stood there in my underpants staring at her.

"Florence! Why? How?" I said sounding like an oaf.

"I-I-still have my old key," she said. "I had to see you. You saved…"

"Florence, please get out! Please. I'm not dressed! Please leave. You're grateful; I get it. You're welcome. Now, get out!" She looked down.

"Mikey, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just-I'll go," she said, and she did.

******

"You walked in on him in his underpants?" he said.

"Yes, and I'm not sure which one of us was the most embarrassed. Anyway, when I noticed him starting to get an erection, I got out of there as fast as I could. He didn't need any more humiliation from me for sure. I literally ran down the stairs, almost broke my leg in the process," she said. He smiled.

"I have to go see him. If he kicks me down the stairs like I deserve; well, at least I'll feel better, I mean even if he doesn't feel better," said Mark Fielding.

"Flo?" he said.

"What?" she said.

"I tapped my cop friend. I've had Mikey checked up on. I think he might have a girlfriend. And she's a looker. Not in your league, but cute I guess you'd have to say," he said. She gave him a look that was half disbelief and half relief.

"Who is it?" she said suddenly all ears.

"Just some woman," he said. She nodded.

"I have to hope that's so," she said. "You know how crazy that sounds to me? I really do wish that for him. He deserves to be happy, and Mark so do we. I just fell out of love with the guy. He's a good guy for sure, but I would have been bad for him over the long haul; he didn't and doesn't need that, none of us do."

"No, that's for sure," he said. "Anyway, I will be going over there tonight. And, before you say it: yes, I know, I run if it looks like it might get physical."

"Yes, and I mean it, Mark. I really really mean it," she said.

******

The day had been long for me. Millie was out getting some stuff for dinner. Earlier in the day I'd spoken for a moment with reverend Kohl. I was just keying the lock when I was startled by a voice just behind me and to my left.

"Mike, got a minute," he said, he being Mark Fielding. I looked him up and down.

"I'll give you and the whore credit; you've got nerve, the both of you. No freakin' doubt about it. And, you, you personally, you got to have reinforced concrete huevos for sure," I said. "But, to answer your question: no. Fuck off, asshole. You've got the woman, so be happy with that. And, I would more than appreciate it if neither you nor she ever cross my path again. Seriously!"

"Mike, she would not have been good for you. Not over the long haul. She would have cheated on you serially, and you would have discovered it, and that would have been even worse than it is now," he said.

"You don't know that asshole. You don't know that at all. What the future holds, nobody knows, nobody," I said. "You still don't know. Hell, she could end up back with me for all anybody knows."

"Mike…"

"You're here for a reason, mister Fielding. I'm thinkin' it's maybe because not all is sunshine and lollipops in cheatersville. She put you up to this? She thinkin' I might relent and give her what she wants? Huh? Be good buddies with the two of you? Huh?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that, Mike. She just wants you to talk to her, forgive her; well, and yes, I guess be friends with her if not her and me," he said.

"Mike, you're right about things not being all that happy around our place. But, it's because she wants to make it up to you, make it right by you.

"Mike, she doesn't love you-well-that way anymore. But, she does love you in other ways. Really, Truly," he said.

I'd finally gotten the door lock to unlock, and I was standing in the doorway. I looked him up and down, once more. "Fuck you," I said. "Never come here again. Never!" I said. I slammed the door in his face.

Less than a minute after I'd slammed the door, there was a knock. I'd started to sob, and the knocking brought me back on center. I stomped toward the door, and literally threw it open.

"Millie!" I said, my anger subsiding exponentially with the realization that my savior was here. She smirked.

"I saw him leave. Had a word with him actually. You two have it out?" she said. I snickered.

"You could say that. Wanted me to make everything all right for her, I mean her relationship with me; he wanted me to make it right," I said.

"But, not the way it used to be," I take it" she said.

"Not even," I said. "If she needs to feel good, it's gonna be without me in the mix that's for damn sure."

"Get me a beer," she said.

"That I will?" I said, smiling. I got her the lager, and we settled in at the dinette table.

"So what did he say," said Millie. I looked at her.

"He said the woman loved me, but not 'that' way, was the way he put it. She wants us to be friends. Like that's ever going to happen," I said.

"But, I have a question for you," I said.

"'kay," she said.

"What you and he talk about? As far as I know he doesn't know that you and I are an item. But, he likely does now," I said.

"He introduced himself, offered me his hand to shake. We shook, and I said I had to be getting inside. I never gave him my name or said anything of consequence," she said. I nodded.

"Mike, the man's a cheater, just like her. But, he doesn't come across as a bad man in other respects. I'm of the opinion that it was just a case of her falling out of love with you and into love with him. It's the way the stars aligned. You might want to lighten up just a little, and give her offer some thought. You and I have each other now, and we're going to be fine. I'm not saying that we will ever be sharing a barbecue with the two of them; but, on some level a vague but not unfriendly relationship might be in your best interest, our best interest actually.

"Mike, I'm thinking of your sanity; which I have been deathly afraid, on more than one occasion, that you've been in danger of losing," she said.

"I don't know, Millie. Yes, you and I will be fine. But, friends with them? I don't know. If I thought that they would be laughing at me behind my back for wimping out… " I said.

"Mike, I don't think that that would be the case. I think, quite the opposite, it might put them in the position of having to prove themselves time and time again," she said. "I think she'd be afraid of pushing you back into that corner that she is apparently is so ashamed of having pushed you into in the first place," she said.

"Mike, it comes to me that she's already in that place, maybe him too. They need-that's need, Mike-to find a way to show you that they respect you. That, in their minds, would give you the opportunity to mend some fences with them. I mean if they want to which I think is the case. The cheating, the sex between them, it was never a case of disrespecting you, not for her, I don't think; they were simply overcome with lust. And, her words to you so long ago; they were stupid, and, there is damn little doubt about it; and, she knows it, and she is desperately, has desperately, done all she could to get around them, unsay them. No, we're the ones with the problem," said Millie.

"Our problem? Maybe, I just don't know. The bottom line is I just don't trust her," I said. "But, I'll think about what you said," I said.

"Good, you need to," she said. Suddenly, I had a thought. I decided it was time.

"You know maybe it is our problem. Yes, yes, maybe if we did give her, them, the chance to show that they aren't just sorry because that would never be enough. Not for me. I do want them to respect me. That's the problem, as you say, yes it is. But until I give them the chance they never will be able to. Will they? But how to do it?" I said.

"Come on," I said, "we're going out." She looked at me funny, but she grabbed her purse and let me lead her out.

"Sooner or later we'll think of something. I know it," she said.

******

It turned out that the confrontation that day in front of the house with Mark Fielding was the last I saw of the dynamic duo for the next two years. I heard from reverend Kohl that they had moved to another part of the state, ostensibly because of business matters relating to Fielding's salons.

I had gotten a couple of Christmas cards from her, but apart from that nothing. Oh, and I had not responded to the cards.

Millie and I did get married, finally. But, the man she married was not anything like the man who'd married Flo Bromley all those years ago. No indeed, my new woman had trained me, rebuilt me, and pampered me well beyond anything I deserved.

I won't say I never thought of Flo; I did. But, the melancholy was gone. So was any desire to be reunited with her-I mean what, and give up what I had now! Not happening.

But, the world turns on its axis, and each time it does it has to return from whence it had first begun its journey.

We arrived at the Excalibur at 7:00PM. The serious dancing wouldn't begin until after 9:00, but we wanted to eat first and listen to some music and talk and just generally get into the mood.

We greeted, and were greeted by, the various couples we knew from our dance classes and some of the bistros we'd frequented over the past many months. Tonight would feature a contest; it would be our sixth since deciding to take my rebuilding to the next level more than a year gone now. We were feeling good.

She saw them first. "Dear," said Millie.

"What?" I said. She let her eyes wander in the direction of the door where the signing in for the contest was continuing.

"Jesus! Somebody's got to be kidding. Did I say that the Olympian Gods hated me!" I said. Millie looked me askance.

"Huh?" she said. "Look, Mike, this is what we've worked for all of these months, these last couple of years. Yeah, they're here. So what. Their bad luck."

"Their bad luck?" I said.

"Sure. Look at him. He's six-four at least and maybe 250 pounds."

"So?" I said. He's big. So what?" I said.

"Think about it. You know the answer as well as I do," she said. Suddenly it began to dawn on me. He was "too big." My smile cued her that I had finally gotten it.

"Exactly, he will most definitely not be in the money. Guys as big as him can't dance all that well. They're too klutzy to really be any good, and will likely be running out of gas even before they finally die in the Samba," she said.

I had to agree. Moving that much tonnage around would be okay in the fox trot, maybe even in swing if they didn't get too imaginative. But the Samba? The Argentine Tango? Not him, nor a bus load like him. "Yeah, this might turn out to be a really good night," I said. "I just hope they don't get blown out too early. I wanna go up against them in the hard stuff." She smiled.

"You wanna go over and greet them. Kinda let them known that the hatchet is buried?" said Millie. "Or, we could do what you used to do, and hightail it outta here." I looked at her and smirked.

"Now, Millie, I may have been a pussy in the past, but no more. Sure, let's go surprise 'em," I said. She stood and reached for my hand.

The two of them were so engaged with each other that they didn't see us until we were practically in their armpits.

"Mikey! I mean… " she started.

"Yeah, kind of a surprise for us too. I mean to see you here," I said. I stuck out my hand to a very surprised Mark Fielding. He took it, but tentatively. And, no, he didn't try to crush mine in his grasp; I thought that significant.

"Good to see you?" he said. And, it did sound more like a question than a statement.

"And you too," I said. And you too, Flo. You look very nice," I said.

"Thank you?" she said. It was another question. "Mikey, you look different-a lot different. Good different, really."

"May we sit for a moment," I said. Millie was already pulling out a chair. "And-uh-yes. Well, Millie and I…"

"Sure? I mean sure, sit," said Flo. "Mikey? Are we…?"

"Yes, we're okay, Flo. I found the woman you long ago suggested I look for, and she has made my life the best it's ever been, and no that's not a swipe at you. You and I were younger then; mature love is the best," I said. Flo nodded.

"Okay," she said.

"And you and I?" said Mark, seemingly finding his voice. I gave him a hard look but let it slide into a smile. "Well, hot damn. Maybe down the line…"

"Yeah, yeah, we'll get together at some point," I said.

I looked over at Flo. She seemed to have the jitters. "Mikey…"

"Yeah?" I said.

"The girls-I kinda invited them to come tonight. Mark and I are here to enter a dance contest. Well, it's only our second time; but, well…"

"No problem. Not anymore. It'll be nice to see the girls. Well, anyway, you all have a good time," I said, rising. Millie, not rising immediately, smiled.

"We're in the contest too," she said. "We've been taking lessons too. Should be fun." Flo gave her a look.

"Yes, well that's great," said Flo. The surprise in her voice was barely disguised. She gave me a look that literally screamed disbelief. My turn to smile.

"Okay, well, we'll let you folks alone for the next while," I said. This time Millie did rise amd made to come with me. She nodded, I nodded, and we walked off.

I was inwardly concerned about Nell and Christina showing up. I wondered how it was going to work out with the both of us, Flo and I, in the same place at the same time with the girls there. I half expected an invitation to join the four of them, that is once the girls did arrive. But, thinking about it, Millie and I had not extended an invitation to them, so maybe they wouldn't either.

We'd no more than settled back into our seats than the girls came half running half walking to the table the maître de pointed them to. They had not seen us, Millie and I. Clearly they were late. They were still standing trying to say something when suddenly Nell's head snapped around and spotted us. Their mother must have said something. There was a flurry of words and Christina broke off and came to us.

"Dad! Millie! You're here. And, mom's here. I mean at the same place and the same time. Did we, Nell and I miss something? Are you staying?" she said.

"Yes we're staying. No you didn't miss anything. We're both entered in this dance thing tonight," I said. Christina gave me a look.

"Dad? Do they know you can dance? I mean…"

"We told them we were entering the contest. So yes, they know," said Millie.

"Dad-Millie-you know what I mean. Do they know that you can dance, I mean really D-A-N-C-E!" said Christina.

"I don't know what you mean, baby," I said. They know we're in the contest, so I guess they must. Right, Millie?" Millie nodded.

"And, you don't want Nell or I to clue them. Would that be a true thing?" said Christina. I shrugged.

"Wow! This is going to be interesting," she said.

Millie tapped my forearm, "Nell is coming over," she said. I looked up just as Nell pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Okay, dad, give," she said. "Mom, said you had made kind of peace with them." Nell inclined her head in the direction of her mother and her man.

"You could say that," I said.

"Wow! I never would have believed it. But wait, there's more to this than that isn't there dad," said Nell. Christina's hand went to her mouth.

"Dad-you and Millie-you're sandbagging them aren't you!" said Christina.

"No. They know we're in the contest. Same as them," I said.

"No, dad, they may know you're in the contest, but they have no idea what you and Millie can do, do they?" said Nell. I shrugged.

"Girls, your dad and I have worked hard to do some things. I know, you know, how long and how hard it's been for him to get some measure of his ego rebuilt after everything that happened. What your mother, or her man, knows or doesn't know has nothing to do with anything. We came here to dance, and we had no idea they would be here.

"But, they are. We wish them well. We will do what we can to do here in a little while. And, unless your dad starts crying again like he used to-every time he saw your mom-well, we'll probably do okay, and, that's the long and the short of it," said Millie.

"Girls, you are your mom's guests tonight. You should probably be getting back," I said.

"Dad, would it be too much to ask that you join us?" said Nell.

"Yes. We're not at that stage yet," I said. "I was making up new rules on the fly. Moments before I might have accepted the invitation, but I wasn't sure I could keep it together if I had to be in close proximity to the two of them. Burying the hatchet did not necessarily equate with becoming bosom buddies with them.

"Okay, dad, I guess we understand," said Christina, "but, the invitation's open."

"Okay, and thank you girls," I said. The two of them rose and headed for their mother's table.

"You think they'll clue them?" I said, turning to Millie.

"Doubt it. But who knows," she said.

During dinner I caught Flo looking in our direction a couple of times, but her glance didn't linger. It seemed almost practiced. The band had been playing some slow stuff during dinner, but now it was time for the games to begin. I saw the MC heading for the mike. We knew John Burroughs. He'd MC'd two contests that we'd been in before. He'd even resented us with our highest achievement to date. We'd gotten the silver that night two contests back. We'd also finished third twice. No, we weren't chopped liver any means.

******

"So, your daddy can dance a little, then," said Mark.

"Yes, we know he took lessons," said Nell. Christina just smiled.

"Mark," said Flo, "No matter what, I do not want to beat him tonight, him and his girlfriend. He needs to get a little back of what I took from him, what the both of us took from him."

"I was thinking the same thing. It'd be little enough for sure. But-maybe-their actually good. I mean… " he said.

"Maybe, but we're not taking a chance. We did pretty good in that first one; you know, finishing in the middle of the pack like we did. I'd be happy to be knocked out early this time if you want to know. But, we can't just throw the game here. Otherwise he'd know we were feeling sorry for him, and he'd hurt worse than he has until now: show him we have no respect for him. Know what I mean? Jesus, I sure as hell do not need that," she said.

"Mom, you know, dad might appreciate it if you were just to not make an issue of so many things. You're divorced. Divorce always leaves hurt feelings and people in its wake. Just do your best mom. Show dad and Millie at least that much respect," said Christina.

"Yeah, mom," echoed Nell.

"Girls, you just don't understand," said Flo.

"Mom, it's you that don't understand. Our dad is no loser. You didn't want to married to him anymore, and no swipe at you Mark, but he was and is a lot of man. He's got a lot of talent. I know he's going to be just fine tonight, thank you very much. Nell and I are both sure he'll give you and Mark a run for your money," said Nell.

"True mom, I know it's true what Nell says," said Christina. Their mother smiled.

"You know, girls, your daddy is lucky to have two daughters like you. And, I'm just as lucky as he is.

"Okay, we'll give it all we've got tonight. You're right the both of you. Treating him like a sure loser is not right, not even. Mark, we're going to go for it. And, I can bet you my ex is saying the same thing to his woman even as we speak," said Flo.

"So, really, that's the way you want to play it," said Millie.

"Yes," I said.

"Okay, I think you're nuts, but I guess I can understand your reasoning," said Millie.

"Ladies and gentleman time to get it on!" said the MC. Everyone there knew the game. They wasted no time hitting the floor to warm up. The band played a medley of different dance tunes, moving from a moderate fox trot to a fairly lively boogie. Then it was money time. There was to be nine dances. Scored by a panel of five judges, two of whom we knew. After each set of three a number of dancers would be eliminated. After the third round of three five finalists would remain.

Well, you had to know it, both my ex and her new man were still in the mix after the first round, as were we. I was feeling good. The second set included the samba; I felt good about our chances; I was in a lot better shape than when I'd been married to Flo-a lot better. We made it through, but surprise-surprise, so did Flo and Mark, though they were huffing and puffing. This was getting good. I got a look from Flo as we left the floor for the break: it was clear she was impressed with my skills, and that made my day. We'd all have ten minutes to pee and get our breath back before coming back for the semi-final eliminations: fifteen couples remained in the mix.

I noticed Flo and Mark talking animatedly: they were apparently ecstatic about their current placement. And then we were back at it.

The rumba, Argentine tango, and the waltz were chosen dances and in that order. Flo looked good, but clearly her partner was almost out of gas. I nodded to Mille as we toured the floor. We put the plan in motion.

We moved close in toward Flo and Mark, pushing them for all we were worth; kinda like the team members on the Tour de France creating a suction tunnel for the team leader. Mark somehow groused out a second wind and gave it his all; it was clear he wanted badly to win; Flo was okay too following his lead. Us? Me and my girl? We weren't even breathing hard-but-we faked that we were, that was the plan. The Argentine was harder-much harder, Not the athletic side of it, but the complicated movements. But again, we literally dragged Mark through it; he had a huge grin on his face; he'd done well. He gave me a thumbs up at the end, and I returned it. There was a two minute break before the waltz.

The waltz went well. Mark was able to get through some fairly advanced moves. Me and Millie? We just cruised through it mostly basic stuff if well executed and in time.

We all waited for the announcement. I held her hand. Thank you, dear heart," I said her. "This was important to me. Maybe it'll lead to something."

"I know," said Millie. "I'm pretty sure it will."

The awards were awarded. The speeches were short. All in all a good show. The four of them came to our table.

"Mikey, you and Millie are really good dancers, said Flo. Sure are," said Mark. The girls stood back smiling. Nell had a look on her face that was part thank you and part knowing. Christina wouldn't even look at me.

"Thanks Flo. Yeah we felt good about tonight," I said. Next time we'll be the ones to make the finals."

"You know I wouldn't be surprised," she said. "You sure are different anymore. I mean you really are a good dancer, you too Millie."

"Ditto that from me," said Mark. We gabbed for a few minutes and then parted. We lagged behind. Christina was the last one of the four to exit and before she did, she looked at us. I read her lips.

"Whatever dad," she said. Millie laughed.

"You didn't fool the girls, Mike. Not even. They are way to savvy to fall for our little stunt," she said.

We gave them the chance to treat us with respect, well, me. Lettin' them have that fifth place statuette was just the right thing. Dontcha think?" I said.

"I guess," she said, and then she laughed again. "But, we ain't laying down again. Got it mister?"

"Got it, momma. I got it," I said.

******

EPILOG:

Over the next year plus there were four more dance contests that Millie and I entered; Flo and Mark were entered in two of those. Yeah, that's right, you guessed it; we, Millie and I, were in the money in all of them. Flo and Mark did garner a fourth in the second of the two we were there to witness; we got the silver in that one. Millie and I still haven't come in first, but it's just a matter of time.

Okay, okay. We do not-how shall I say it-actively socialize with Flo and Mark. But, we do attend the girls' dos together, and we did have dinner a couple of times with them without the girls. I guess you could say that we're vaguely friendly. But, the truth is that every once in a while, it hits me again, all of the bad stuff. But, with Millie's help I'm coping.

Flo and Mark do respect me, I think. But, really, can on ever be sure about something like that. I'm here to testify that such is a real hard nut. But, what the hey, I could be wrong.

Helluva thing.

-----------------------------

   Series:Mike and Lily Covington
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She's of the opinion that she isn't hurting anything if she plays on the side--boy is she wrong!
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/71687/mike-and-lily-covington
Published:2012-07-20
"I've got a date," she said.

"A date? Where are we going?" I said.

"Not we honey, just me. Don't wait up," she said.

"Huh? What? What are you talking about?" I said. She put on her most exasperated look, and leaned back against her vanity. I must have looked the total wimp to her as she prepared to unload on me.

"I'm going on a date. I have a date with a man. He will buy me drinks and dinner and maybe take me dancing. After that he will get us a hotel room and do me. Then, I will come home to you, and you will get to have me if you want; I mean if you don't mind sloppy seconds. Actually, the fact is you don't mind them, and I know that for a fact," she said.

"What? Know what for a fact?" I said.

"Mike, you've been getting them for the past four years. The only reason I am up and telling you now is because it has been a pain in the ass trying to keep my little secret. But, don't be concerned. It'll be all right. None of my little flings are a threat to you, none of them. And none of the men I've let do me are anywhere near as good husband material as you are," she said.

"Then why…"

"Well Mike," there was that exasperated tone again, "they have one edge on you. Bedroom skills and in most cases dick size. I don't want to hurt or upset you, but you are kinda lacking in those areas. And, those areas are important to a woman. Not as important as the things you do for me, but important. So, anyway, now you know. I really hope you'll be able to get your head around the fact that it will make no difference between us, nor will it in anyway lessen the sex or the lovin' you'll be getting from me as you always have," she said. "So, tonight, just relax, and get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll talk if you want. But, I have to go, or I'm going to be late," she said. She was on me in a trice planting a kiss on my cheek as she ran out; I wiped it off with the back of my hand; I don't think she saw me do it.

I stood there stunned, as I heard her car fire up. There would be no talking to her tomorrow, or likely any time. Maybe in court, but nowhere else.

I got my old navy trunk out of the attic and cleaned it up. It would hold most of the stuff I would need for the foreseeable future. I was gone an hour after she was.

I didn't know what she expected, but me putting up with her ultimatums was not gonna happen.

I guess now would be the time to introduce us. I'm Mike Covington, my wife Lily Covington, nee Martin and I have been married for the past six years. She's thirty-one, and I'm thirty-three.

Lily is a doll: Five eight, one-twenty, flowing tawny locks, 34Bs, and legs that seem meant for the Rockettes. Oh, and she's quite evidently a whore and an arrogant one.

Me, to carry out the thought: five-nine, one-forty, still have eighty percent of my black hair, and a pretty good build except for a slight paunch that I am fighting tooth and nail.

I hefted the trunk and the two small tube bags into the back of my pickup, and headed out. I didn't have a clue where I was headed, but it was going to be away from her. Six years, six years we'd been married and for four of them I'd been a cuckold, an unknowing one, but a cuckold nonetheless. I wondered how many others knew. Likely all of her friends knew. Lily was nothing if not a status bitch. With her it was never a matter of keeping up with the Jones. No indeed, with her it was a matter of her wondering why the Jones were taking so long to catch up with her.

I Pulled into to the Starlight Motor Lodge; well, it had the virtue of being in the right place at the right time: it was across the street from where I was filling up with gas. And, there was a bar next to the gas station that I was doing my filling up at, The Lamplighter Lounge.

Ten minutes after deciding to spend at least the night at the motel, I was registered and sacked out on the lumpy bed.

******

"You want me to go in with you. You know in case he tries to be macho with you?" said the tall black man as he helped her out of the car. It was 3:00AM. She laughed.

"My Michael get rough with me? That'll be the day," she said. "Anyway, Lester, no I don't need any protection, in fact the only thing I don't want to have happen is for him see you with me. I kinda rubbed his nose in it this evening. Thinking about it now, that was a mistake; I know I hurt him. I didn't need to do that. I really didn't need to do that. Anyway, I'm probably going to have to eat a little crow in the morning for that little faux pas. But, there's no danger, not from Mikey Covington; he's a teddy bear."

"Okay, Lil, if you say so. We still on for Friday night?" said Lester Boyer. She smiled at him. Kissed him lightly on the lips, and headed inside as he drove off.

******

It was a quarter past three in the morning and my damn phone was ringing. It had taken me two hours according to my cell to get to sleep and now I was being rudely awakened from that delicious state. Then, it hit me. It had to be her. I answered it.

"Hello?" I said.

"Where are you Michael? I'm worried about you," she said.

"Well, if it isn't my used to be wife. I'm shacked up at a motel. I'll be looking for a better place tomorrow, but as for that; it's no longer any of your business," I said. Your relationship with me ended at 6:40 this evening-oh wait-I mean yesterday evening now I guess. I'll be seeing a lawyer in the morning. You might wanna get one of your own at some point."

"Michael! Shut the fuck up about lawyers and all of that. We're not divorcing, and you're coming home right now. Am I understood?" she said.

"Oh you're understood right enough, lady, but you are not gonna be obeyed. I'll miss what we had. Well, I'll miss what I thought, what I imagined, we had. I won't miss being married to the village whore. That's for damn sure," I said.

"Mikey, why are you being so cruel?"

"Look, Lily I'm tired as I'm sure you are; I mean fucking has to be tiring when you do it as much as I'm sure you've been doing it. Right? I'm going to bed. You get some sleep too. Yuh hear?" I hung up on her. She didn't call back. It turned out she didn't have to. She was knocking on my motel room door at 7:35AM.

I couldn't believe it. Less than four hours and she'd found me. "What are you doing here, Lily, and how did you find me?" I said.

"I'm here to talk and to take you home. And as for how did I find you, the guy I was out with last night is a cop. He has resources," she said.

"Figures," I said. "Look, Lily, we're done. After the way you talked to me and treated me last night, not to mention the fact that you have been making me a laughing stock and a cuckold for the past several years; well, surely you can't imagine that I would lower myself to stay with you. No chance," I said, "none."

She was past me before I could stop her. She took a seat on the bed, and waited for me to shut the door. Well, I supposed that's what she was waiting for. I did, I shut it.

"Mikey, I am very sorry for the way I treated you last night. After I had a chance to think about it, I realized that I had been unnecessarily cruel saying the things I did. I am here to eat a truck load of crow for those words and I mean it," she said.

"Too little too late, Lily. You can't unsay those words any more than I can unhear them. You telling me I was no good in bed was something I will never forget-never! No, there is nothing left for us now. Nothing," I said. She went pensive for a moment. Then she rolled out what I'm sure she thought were her big guns.

"Okay, Mikey, how about this. I give up the men, and we start over, start fresh," she said. She'd stopped me momentarily with that one.

"And why in the world would I, could I, believe anything you say?" I said. "No, let me answer my own question. There is no possible way."

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey you know you can't live without me. And, in case you're interested I can't live without you. Yes, it's true you aren't much in the sack; but, you're not disgusting. I can deal with your inadequacies," she said.

"Fuck! I said. "You just can't stop killing me with your words can you, Lily. Well, fuck you! Now get out. I'm going back to bed." I went back to the door, opened it and waited for her to get the fuck out, so I could cry myself back to sleep.

She started to laugh. "Just kidding, just kidding. I didn't mean it. The fact is Mikey, I like it when you make love to me. It is so cute when try to please me. You get so desperate sometimes trying to get me off. That's why I never deny you sex: because you amuse me."

"Fuck! Are you nuts! Amuse you! Like I said, get the fuck out. Oh wait, where's my manners? Please! get the fuck out! Okay?" I said.

"No, it's not okay, Mikey I need you; I need you for what you do for me. I'm not going anywhere until you agree to come home. Come on now, come home and make love to me. No, I mean let me make love to you, make it up to you. I was a shit last night. And, I shouldn't have been kidding you just now either. I guess I really didn't realize how much I dented your ego," she said. "Mikey, really, I'm sorry about that. Honestly.

"Really, all of those macho big guys, with their king sized dicks, touch me in places you just can't. But, that said, none of them amuse me. None of them make me feel safe and loved. And, you're as good as any of them with your mouth, especially when you lick my anus. God! how I do love that."

I was staring at her. "Amuse you? Desperately 'try' to please you? Your anus! Jesus, will you please get the fuck out of here! Get out!" I said. She sighed

"Okay, Mikey, I can wait I guess. I mean if I have to. I'll be there, when the bruises to your ego fade a little, and you're ready to ask my forgiveness and come back to where you belong," she said. "Oh, and please don't forget to pay the bills this month. We won't be divorcing; I won't stand for that. But, the house payments are going to still be going on and the rest. So just do that part of your duty until you're ready to come back and take your place between my legs," she said.

"Hmm, so that's it. It's my money. That's why you're waking me up at 7:30 in the morning. Wanna make sure old Mikey is still signing the checks," I said. I think I sneered.

"Of course it is, Mikey, that and the other things I mentioned. Look, I sorry about what I said about your dick. I'm going to be doing my best to prove to you that you are more than enough for me, believe me. Well, I mean as soon as you come home. I mean it, Mikey," she said.

"Anyway, you know my cell. Call me anytime day or night. I'll even interrupt my date to come get you if you happen to call when I'm on one. Though I really would appreciate it if you could see your way clear not to do that," she said.

"So much for you giving up the men and starting over, starting fresh, huh," I said. She bit her tongue.

"I did promise that didn't I. Well, okay. If that's what it's going to take, then I will honor my words. Is that okay?" she said.

"Doesn't matter, Lily. I knew you were lying when you said it the first time, and I know that you're lying now. Oh, you might cut back for a little while and try to rebuild my self-esteem-talk about the impossible dream-but it won't last. You'll just be more careful-sneakier.

"Mikey…"

"Shut the fuck up, Lily. And, since now I know how little you think of me, I won't be getting in your way. Go fuck the whole neighborhood. Just stay the fuck away from me.

"Oh, and again, you better get a job," I said. Now she had a concerned look.

"Okay, Mikey. Okay. I'm going. But, I will be waiting for your call. And please, don't think about it as giving in. Just call me when you mellow out a bit. Think of it as granting me a little mercy. Okay. I really need you to come home. Not just to pay the bills either. I need you for you. I mean it." I tendered her a sardonic wave as she moseyed out. I shut the door unnecessarily loudly.

******

Showered and cleaned up, I sneered at my reflection in the mirror. So that was it, I thought. It wasn't my loving self she wanted back, nor even my amusing bedroom skills, nor my desperate attempts to please her. No indeed, it was my twenty grand a month income that she was worried about missing out on. Well, she'd erred big time. I sat down at my laptop and began making some transfers. I hit the send key. She really should have waited until after the banks opened to mess with my head.

I cleaned out everything. Working at Central Banking Inc. enabled me to do some pretty remarkable things very fast and very permanent. I did leave five hundred in the checking account for her, and I had a reason for leaving even that. Crawl to her would I-the hell you say! She was going to be crawling to me. With my tech skills I could work anywhere and make really good bucks. She was a housewife; she made nothing. I know she figured, that I'd either do as she said and pay, or the courts would make me pay. But, she was oh so wrong.

I called my boss, Heinz Muller and quit over the phone. I was now technically jobless. He did ask me to come in and talk about it, that he had an idea. I told him I would, but not until around 2:00PM.

******

I had lunch at the Roundhouse. I ate alone. But, that was all right. I was ruminating about what she was thinking right then. She had to be at least mildly concerned by the fact that I hadn't succumbed to her charms; that, since I always had before. But, before, I had been laboring under the illusion that she loved me. That particular illusion was now gone and there was nothing left for me except to stick it to her every which way. And that was something that I fully intended to do. I headed over to the bank for my meeting with the boss.

Heinz was a good guy and had been my friend as well as my boss for more than ten years. We'd gone to college together. He majored in Business, me in techno.

He waited for me to get comfortable.

"Mike, I want to make you a proposition. Would that be all right?" he said.

"I can't stay, Heinz. I want to…"

"Just hear me out, Mike. I think I can maybe help the both of us here.

"You're going to be divorcing her, right?" he said.

"Not sure. I do not want the courts to be handing her my ass. But, one day, after all of the dust has settled, yeah maybe," I said. He nodded.

"This bank has an operation in Trinidad Tabago. They need a techie with the kind of skills you happen to have," he said.

"Heinz, I don't want to move to the islands…"

"You won't have to. Most of what you'll be doing will be on the computer. You will likely have to make the occasional trip there, maybe once a quarter. But, apart from that, you wouldn't even have to leave you apartment or house or whatever unless you wanted to," he said. Now he had my attention.

"My checks-I mean…"

"She'll never have a clue," he said. I smiled.

"Okay," I said. "Sounds just like something I can get my head around."

We talked a little longer. Made plans for my unofficial transfer. Shook hands, and I left.

******

It took her two days to realize that she was out of funds. I'd needed that much time to do the things I needed to do; that's why I'd left five hundred in the account for her. But, now I got another visit. At my new place of residence! Her damn cop friend was really putting it to me. I'd have to consider that. I didn't want to get arrested by him once the courts came down on me; that would not be good.

She swept by me once again as soon as I opened the door. "Listen, jackass, this isn't working out. I need to pay the bills, but you've taken all of the money. Whaddya trying to do, starve me out?" she said.

"You dumped me," I said. "I no longer see you as my responsibility."

"First of all, I did not dump you, actually quite the opposite. I told you I did not want a divorce and more would not tolerate one. I did tell you the truth about my sexual activities, but only because I didn't want to be sneaking around on you anymore. Got it!" she said. "I'm beginning to realize that that was a big ass mistake."

"Oh, that's nice. Real nice. Just keep sneaking around, right. You know, you really are a trip and a half. I don't know how you live with yourself. Treating me like shit, lying to me, holding me in contempt, making me the unknowing laughing stock of our little village. Yeah, real nice," I said. "But, to answer your question; yeah, I got it.

"Oh, I got it all right. And, actually you're right. I misspoke. You didn't dump me. You dumped on me! Bad enough, Lily, to drive me away," I said. "Do you have even the slightest idea how bad you hurt me, and how bad I'm still hurting? Do you!" I said. She seemed to deflate. She looked around.

"I do now," she said. "Frankly, I didn't realize it before. Not even the other day when I woke you up. I just saw you as behaving like a little kid whose bike just got stolen or something. I was going to-and I still am-make it up to you. And, I mean in lots of ways, not just in bed. But, that said, for me to do that you have to give me a chance so that I can.

"I see you're packing. Moving again?" she said.

"Yes, these digs are too small. But, actually, Lily, it's no longer any of your damn business," I said.

"You know I could get the courts to force you to pay up," she said.

"Maybe, but you won't get much. I am no longer employed," I lied. Her eyes shot open.

"What! How? What!" she said,

"You really don't seem to get it, Lily. You say you do now, but I doubt it. You destroyed me the other evening, and again at the motel. Destroyed me! I'm not sitting still for it, Lily. Not even. I might not be worth a damn as a lover. And, clearly my dick isn't up to your standards, not much I can do about that. Though maybe I can still learn to be a better lover, even with my miniature equipment," I said. She began to look worried. I was finally making a serious dent in her arrogant consciousness. "Oh, and yes, I am not employed, and I have no intention of paying your bills. Get your cop lover to take care of you, Lily. I'm done."

"Mike, please, I'm broke, and hungry. Okay!" she said. "You took everything. And a bunch of bills are due. We'll lose the house and the cars and everything. You gotta come home. I need you. Please." And just like that the initiative passed to me.

******

I had no illusions that she might not find some other way to get what she wanted, I mean sexually, but for the immediate future I was the Alpha and the Omega.

"You never did give a damn about me, I mean except for the standard of living I've provided for you, have you Lily. I mean really, it's truth time," I said.

She looked up at me with cow eyes. "Mike that's not true. And-again-I am so damn sorry that I said those things to you, treated you so badly the other night; and yes, again at the motel. I'll do anything you say. Pay any penance if you will just come home and take care of me again like you always have. I don't need those other men. None of them mean shit, really! It was never more than just the sex. They're all a collection of losers when one gets down to it. They, none of them, can hold a candle to you in any meaningful way."

"What about the cop?" I said. "You know, the one with the resources."

"What? Him? He's just a guy. He's okay, but he's history," she said. "As of now they're all history." I smiled. She was the desperate one now; that was clear. I guess I did seem desperate when I screwed her; I did so want to please her, but now it was her turn.

"I have a question, Lily. Why did you lay it on me like that the other night? Was it really just so you didn't have to be sneaking around anymore? Are you so selfish that your convenience is more important than my heart, my feelings, my feelings of self-worth? Because you broke my heart, Lily; and, I have never felt as bad as I did while you said all of those things to me." She looked down. I think she was truly beginning to realize just how destructive her words had actually been.

"Oh Mikey, I guess I really am, was, just plain selfish but not anymore. The fact is I did say all of those things just to make my liaisons more convenient for me. And before you ask, yes, I really did think you'd be all right with me stepping out. Oh, I knew your nose would be out of joint for a little while; but, I had a plan. I was planning to give you twice as much attention as I ever did to make it right with you. You know, so you'd finally realize that my playing around some on the side was actually going to be a good deal for you too. Anyway, that was my plan," she said.

"Twice as much as before? You mean twice as much as our once a week, usually a Sunday night, quickie?" I said. "Twice as much as that? Hoopdeedoo!" She looked down. She was starting to cry. A woman crying, no matter what any of those macho assholes say, is damn hard to ignore. But, I was going to be strong. I had the germ of an idea. It'd kinda come to me over the past couple of days as I'd sat and moped.

I started pacing back and forth as though lost in thought, pondering. "This is the deal Lily. "I'll give you the money to pay the bills. I'll also give you another five-hundred a month for your personal needs: gas for the car and stuff like that. But, there is a price," I said.

She leaped up and hugged me before I could stop her. "Oh thank you-thank you-thank you, honey. You won't be sorry. And, there will be no more men. I promise." I unwound myself from her grasp.

"I said that there is a price," I said. She looked me askance.

"Anything, honey, anything!"

"Okay, good," I said. "Sit down." She did as I told her. "You will not be giving me twice as much sex as you used to. You'll be giving me sex whenever I want it, and wherever I want it. No headaches, no states of exhaustion, no it's my periods, none of it: is that clear?"

"Yes, yes, it's very clear. But, can we go home now? Can we start over beginning today?" she said.

"No. I will not be going home with you. I'm not ready to just forget about everything, not yet. The way it's going to be is this. You will never be without your cell. You will answer it when I call. You will come when I call; you will come at that moment, not later. Not after you finish with your lover, not after you shower. You will come immediately. Clear?" I said.

"But-but, I told you, there will be no lovers," she said.

"Hmm, maybe, maybe not, we'll just have to see about that," I said. I didn't actually voice my distrust of my woman's promise, but I'm pretty sure she got the message.

"I will put the money in the account and you'll be able to draw on it right away with your ATM card," I said.

"Thank you honey, thank you. You're wonderful," she said. "But, couldn't you just come home. You know, and let me start giving you ten times as much sex as we ever had." I had to smile at that. Maybe she was going to try and fuck me to death. Not sure how I felt about that; it made me smile. She misread me.

"You're coming home aren't you? You are! I can tell," she said.

"No, I'm not. So, do we have a deal or not?" I said, evenly. She frowned.

"Okay, deal," she said. We talked for a few more minutes, and then she was gone. I would wait a couple of hours, and call her. Yeah, it was a chicken shit stunt, but I needed a little inexpensive payback. And, if I was lucky, I would be interrupting her and her lover. God! Wouldn't that be the cat's meow.

******

"So is he coming back to support you?" said Lester. She put her bag down and unburdened herself of her coat.

"No, but he is going to front me the money to pay the bills and to avoid starvation," she said.

"And us?" he said.

"We can still get it on. But rub his nose in it? Not even," I said. "I am on very thin ice. I hurt him bad. I don't know why he can't get it that sex isn't everything," she said.

"Because it 'is' everything to a guy. It's his manhood. It's his pride. It's how he appeals to women-hopefully," he said. "And you took that away from him. And now you wonder why he's bitter? Give me a break."

"I don't know. I told him that he was the 'man' in a dozen other ways, and I even told him he was as good as any man at oral. He just didn't seem to care about any of that," said Lily.

"I don't know what it is about you, Lily. Maybe it's something about ultra-pretty female mystique types like you-something. You don't seem to hear what your men are saying. You demand that they hear you, but you-you pretty ones-don't ever hear, or don't want to hear, what your men folk have to say. Hell, I feel sorry for the guy."

"Huh?"

"We men only care about those other things if the big thing is appreciated first," he said.

"That's nonsense," she said.

"And again, you're not hearing me! It is not nonsense; it's at the core of a man's ego, his feelings of self-worth. Right now, your man is probably crying in his beer about his worthlessness as a man. And, he may never get it back: his pride that is."

She'd been slowly undoing the buttons on her blouse. He stopped talking and started to smile. All of a sudden they were racing each other to get naked; she won the race. He pulled her to him. It wasn't just passionate, she thought, it was magical. It had been just two hours since her meet up with her Mikey. She thought about him now. She even felt a little bit guilty about her about to happen screwing.

She looked over to where her purse lay on the table, some four feet away. Her cell was ringing. She got to it and answered.

"Yes?" her face clouded. She hung up.

"It was him. I have to go," she said.

"Now!" he said.

"Yes, now. I'll be back. Okay?" she was dressing quickly. He threw up his hands.

Hurrying down the stairs, she was talking to herself: "He had to have planned this. Damn it!"

******

I opened the door, and she smiled, but the smile seemed a little forced. "I am so glad you called, Mikey. Now maybe we-I-can start repairing the damage I've done to us." I ignored her opening gambit; I had my own agenda.

"I decided to do you right away, Lily, to take you up on your offer to do you ten times as much as before. And, I promise to do my very best. You know, to measure up to your standards, no joke," I said. "I need you to want to do it with me. Okay?"

"Absolutely," she said. I was in the driver's seat, and she knew it as well as I did. But, I did not have the brass balls to ask her what she'd been doing when I called. Her demeanor made me suspicious that, whatever it was, that she wanted to be doing it instead of being with me. One had to love it.

******

My place wasn't large, but it had two bedrooms and two baths. And the front area was large enough to have a love seat and a chair with their usual complement of smallish tables and the like.

"Here or in the bedroom?" she said. I had decided that I would take her in the front room. For some reason the bedroom seemed kind of saccharine. Maybe the bedroom for the second round, but the initial go was going to be a little bit different than the usual.

"Here," I said. I plopped into the chair across from the recliner. The fireplace, which stood ready to light, was flanked by the chair I was sitting in on the one side and the loveseat on the other. Both were angled slightly in its direction.

Lily took up her position in front of the fireplace and looked at me. "Move the coffee table back a little, please, Mikey," she said. I looked at the table, back at her, and got the message. She wanted to have some more room. I did as she asked. She smiled at my little display of obedience.

She came forward a few feet and stood where the table had been. She watched me for a good two minutes, just standing there; then, she started to strip. She went slow. The blouse went first which she unbuttoned slowly. Then the skirt fell earthward. Only her bra and panties remained. Slipping out of her bra, she posed for me, and smiled.

"Getting hard are we, Mikey? You want some of this?" she let her hands trail down her body as if marketing her wares. God she was beautiful! I might be in the driver's seat, but for this briefest of moments, I was her slave, and she knew it.

"You could say that, Lil; yes indeed, you could say that," I said. She turned around and slowly inched her panties down and off: she stood hands at her sides, not moving, her naked back and her absolutely wonderful butt were statue-like in front of me. She turned around and smiled the smile of a woman in control. She turned once again. Her slit was hairless and beckoning-that was new and it kinda bothered me. She crooked her finger. I came to her.

"On your knees mister and worship me," she said. I kissed her slit very gently, teasingly, I hoped. Soon I was sucking on it, and doing my best to munch her clit. She'd spread her legs a little to allow me better access. She pulled my head in tighter. She pushed me back.

"Time to screw me," she said. She moved over to the love seat and knelt on it; her butt to me. I rose and came to her. I rubbed the tip of my cock up and down her slit and when I felt it slip in. I pushed and entered her in a single thrust.

I screwed her for some minutes, slowly. Then, when I felt myself getting close, I gave it all I had hammering her mercilessly. I heard her sigh. No scream, no moan, just a bored sigh. She was a million miles from making it. I unloaded my cache of semen and shrank from her.

"Let's go the bedroom, big guy," she said. She didn't notice the look on my face as she headed for the mini-hallway that led to my room.

"No," I said. "I'm done for tonight. Thanks for coming by. I needed that." She looked at me with might best be described as a perplexed expression.

"What? I mean…"

"You didn't make it, did you?" I said. She looked as embarrassed as I felt. "You were actually bored with it all, weren't you?"

"Heavens no I wasn't bored, Mikey. Really. You did real good. No, I didn't come yet; but I will if you will only give me a chance. Sometimes we women-well-it takes more for us than it does for you guys," she said. I nodded.

"Maybe, but you were bored; I could tell; it was easy to tell," I said. "But, never fear, I am going to learn how to turn you on somehow. I know I can learn. I ain't stupid. I just need a little time. I'll call again," I said. "Oh, and I already put the money in the bank for the next month's bills. Let me know if you have any trouble."

"Mikey, please, let's go inside and do the finale. Okay? I need you," she said.

"No you don't, Lil, but hopefully you will someday. You need to leave now. "Please," I said. My failure to even come close to satisfying her was so humiliating that I found myself near to breaking up in front of her; I did not want that. I needed to remain at least partially in the driver's seat. And, I wasn't kidding about doing better in the future. Now, all I had to do was figure a way to learn what I needed to learn.

******

Amesburg, a smallish town forty miles from the city, had the reputation of being the state's primary, if unofficial, redlight district. It was the home base of the Red Horse Mining and Drilling Company: the RHM&D;, whose blue collar workers took the edge off in town most Friday and Saturday nights: that either at any of the eleven bars in town or with the ladies who plied their trade in such places-or maybe both if it were close to payday. For me Aimesburg was back to school time.

Her name was Ruby Lindstrom, as I found out later. She was tall, like my wife, she was pretty, she was old enough-read experienced enough-to instruct me, and that was the whole thing to me.

We'd met up at the Boot, a country western bar in town. She'd actually come on to me before I'd even had a chance to begin trolling for a likely instructor.

"Lookin' for me, cowboy," she said. I gave her the once over.

"Maybe," I said. "Think you could maybe teach me a couple of things?" I said straight out. Well, I was setting the tone. I mean it's not like I had a lot of experience asking a hooker for advice, let alone to teach me anything, but, that was my mission. She laughed.

"You betcha, cowboy," she said. I paused. She looked me askance.

"Got a proposition for you… " I started an hesitated.

"Ruby," she said.

"Ruby. I know we both know what we're talking about in general terms. But, in my case it might not be exactly what you're talking about," I said.

"Huh?"

"I said I had a proposition," I said. She interrupted me.

"Yeah, I get that part, but the other?" she said.

"Well, no. Look, let me get right to the point. My wife, maybe soon to be ex-wife, if things don't change big time, thinks I'm shit in bed. I need to change that. So, I'm looking for a…"

"A tutor?" she chanced.

"Exactly. And, not just for the night. I'm thinking something longer term, maybe a couple of months. The pay would be good-for you," I said. "With an even bigger payoff for me if you are as good as I hope you are."

She stepped back and gave me a serious look see. "How much we talking about, sailor?" she said.

"Sailor? I thought I was a cowboy," I said. She smiled.

"Same thing," she said.

"To answer your question: three times a week for the next eight weeks, at a grand a week. But, I'd require that I'd be pretty much exclusive during that time. I mean except for your husband if you happen to be married," I said.

"I'm careful and disease free," she said. "All of my clients use condoms."

"Maybe, but that's not the reason for the monogamy. My dick ain't much and I need you to be at least as tight as possible," I said.

"Oh. Okay, I see. Well, I'm not married. Was, but no more. Been single for the past ten years. Anyway, okay, I think you might have a deal, but there are a few conditions," she said. I gave her a look that indicated that she should go on.

"Each week the money'll be in advance without my having to ask for it. And, the venue will be of my choosing, And, each night we're together we will be going out to dinner first-also on you. The last is a matter of setting the tone more than anything else.

"Listen mister, you're not the first hubby who wanted to go to school. There have been a few others over the length of my illustrious career, and I know how to do this. So, if we do do this, as seems likely, and if you're smart; I'm advising you, that you need to be following orders, some of which you may not necessarily want to. So, is any of that going to be a deal breaker?" she said.

"No," I said. "Shall we?" I raised my forearm in front of me indicating she should take it so that I could escort her out of the bar. She smiled and took the arm. Our first dinner together would be mostly exploratory stuff that I was confident needed to be gotten out of the way before the games could begin.

******

"Okay, I can do that. I do have to wonder if there was something else going on with your wife though. Something besides the sex thing," said Ruby

"Maybe there were-are-was. But, those things, I mean if there are any, I'll be able to do something about some other way. And, if there's something that I can't do, because of-what- the nature of the thing or things, well then che sera, as they say." Ruby nodded her agreement.

She took a deep breath and said, "So, shall we go and begin your training. No time like the present."

"I like the way you think," I said. "Uh, your place or mine?"

"Mine, it's, uh, equipped for the purpose," she said. I nodded my appreciation of her professionalism.

We headed for the checkout counter at the front of the place.

The ride was a quiet one. I couldn't help smiling as we drove. Here I was in my car, driving to her place, a whore's nest. What for? To practice sex. To learn about sex. To maybe someway somehow fix the miserable situation I was in with my wife. A wife who arguably should have been kicked out with the first salvos of this whole mess. By me? Yeah by me, But no, pussywhipped wimp that I was, I was trying, plotting, dreaming of ways to get around the obvious. My wife didn't love me. She liked me. Needed me maybe: I really was twice the man she'd been fucking lately in every way but in the bedroom. It made me laugh inside. She desired a man who was half of what I could clearly demonstrate that I was. Helluva thing.

"What's so funny?" said Ruby.

"My situation, this situation," I said. "It's crazy. I know it. But, I'm committed to it. And, for the life of me, I think it's kind of funny."

"Yes, I can see what you mean. But, in a little while I'm hoping you'll think it's a whole lot more fun than funny," she said. Now, I laughed outright.

"Turn left at the next signal," she said. We made to the apartment complex, more or less upscale in a matter of maybe five minutes. Her place was a second floor two bedroom at the end of the corridor's outside walkway. The lighting was poor, but we could see our way well enough.

"The lightings kind of poor around here," I observed.

"Like it that way," she said, "less exposure to eyes that have no business prying if you get my meaning." I nodded.

"Reckon that makes sense," I said. We entered her place and she threw the deadbolt on the door, walked a few feet, turned, and appraised me.

"Have a seat over there on the couch. I'll be back in a minute," she said.

It was three minutes, but I wasn't going to be complaining. She'd looked good in the bistro. But, she looked mesmerizing now, naked except for her panties. I looked at an item she'd brought out with her and had thrown on the floor as she'd entered the room.

"You look great," I said. "But-what's that?"

"A futon. It makes doing it on the floor a bit more tolerable for me when you're banging away," she said.

"The floor?"

"The floor."

"Okay," I said. "The floor it is."

I watched as she sashayed closer to me smiling, frowning, looking innocent. I wanted her right enough. I mean I really wanted her. I reached for her naked breasts. She pushed me back and told me to lay down on the futon. I was still dressed, but I did as she said. She stood over me.

"Let's see how much imagination you have big boy." She lowered herself over my face lightly grinding herself onto it, my face. I could smell her woman smell, her anus and her pussy. It was a heady mix. I sucked on her panties and soon they were soaked. I think as much from her drippings as from my mouthings.

She stood and slipped off her underpants, reseating herself on my face. I ate her up. I could feel her silently giggle as I ate out both of her holes. After some little bit, I felt her shudder, relax, and then lift herself from my face and roll off to the side. She was breathing kinda hard.

"Not bad, maybe a bit fast. You need to go slow and try to tease me a little as you work over my clit and my sphincter. I love it when a man appreciates my butt."

We played with each other manually for a while, her instructing me as to how to exactly do the most that I could with my hands to stimulate her: I was learning.

She mounted me cowgirl and rode me like a wild thing.

She only allowed me inside of her the once. This was school for me, and I had a lot to learn and think about. And I was learning and I was thinking. We slept hard and long. It was Saturday and I was not anxious to get up and face the world. I dreamed about Lily-my Lily.

I heard her in the shower; it's what woke me up. She came out draped in towels with her hair in a turban.

"Finally awake sleepy head?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"Well, good. Get showered and dressed. I'll cook us up something and we can talk a bit. Okay?" she said, as she herself dressed.

"Yeah. Sure," I said.

******

The main outcome, the way I saw things with Ruby, was that my confidence in my bedroom skills-meager as they still were, was growing.

It was eleven o'clock before I'd gotten back from Ruby's apartment. Breakfast had been good, and instructive. But, I was still on a mission. I had to get back to my place.

******

I was sure that Lily would be home at night. She wasn't going to be shoving it in my face if she was still doing the cop or anyone else, if it came to that, as I was sure she was. No, if I wanted to interrupt her escapades, I'd have to think like her, no easy task.

******

The cop would have an erratic schedule, I was pretty sure of that. I decided to see if she had arranged a nooner. It was noon:15; I made the call.

"Hello," said Lilly.

"Hi, come now. I need you bad," I said.

"Now! You mean right now?" she said. "But-I'm in the middle of cleaning. I haven't bathed, and I do need to get things done around here."

"Now," I said. And I hung up.

"What the fuck," said the man who'd just finished undressing.

"I have to go. He won't pay the bills if I don't.

"You wanna pay 'em," she said, noting his scowl. He started picking up his clothes.

******

She joined in me in less than fifteen minutes: the time limit she'd agreed to. One minute late, no matter what the reason was, and the following month she'd have to pay the bills herself.

"Well, I won't say your calls are all that convenient, but I am more than happy to note your enthusiasm to have me," she said. "So, what's on the agenda?"

"Hmm, well, getting undressed and physically intertwined with each other is the main thing of course. Then, I don't know, maybe a little drinking and conversation afterwards would pretty much cover it; I mean if you have time," I said. "I don't want to interfere with your personal life." The irony of my last words were not lost on her; her barely hidden scowl was evidence of that. But, she recovered and was all smiles as she slowly began to twist and turn and tease me, much as she did the last time. Lily had never failed to turn me on even when all she was doing was sitting still. Parading around as she was at that moment was exponentially more effective in that regard.

I stood and disrobed as she continued to sway to a melody she was humming. I had to remember to put music on the next time we came together.

She lay passive with a plastic smile etched on her features. Clearly she was bored, but to her credit, she was making at least a reasonable effort to not be obvious about it. I lasted a good little while, and just as I was getting ready to squirt, I felt her stiffen: I told myself that she had had a small orgasm. Probably just wishful thinking on my part, but maybe not.

We lay side by side panting. "Good for you?" she said.

"Always is for me, Lil', how about you?" I said.

"I made it. It was a small one, but very satisfying," she said. "You didn't leave me hanging. That's everything to a woman." I listened to her and had the feeling-more from her tone than from her words that she wasn't lying. But, that said, there was no doubt in my mind that she was basically bored with me, little orgasm or no.

"Well, good, I'm glad," I said.

I'd earlier laid the groundwork for a little wine and a little conversation. Without saying word one, or even motioning to her. I got up, pulled on a robe, and headed downstairs; it was almost 3:00PM. I don't know what she was thinking, but as I reached the door she was up and grabbing her clothes.

It took her some few minutes to dress, and when she did, I was waiting for her by the dinette table holding two stem glasses filled to the brim with her favorite white wine: chardonnay.

She had her purse on her arm and her keys in her hand. "Oh, I… " she started.

"Oh, you have to leave so soon?" I said. I feigned disappointment.

"Uh-no-I thought that…"

"It's okay. Maybe another time," I said. I headed back into the kitchen at a faster pace than was required and poured the wine down the sink. She'd followed me and saw what I did.

"Mike, I didn't mean for you to do that. I can stay. I have nothing going. I mean I have some cleaning to get back to. But… " she said.

"It's okay. You did your duty. I've got no complaints," I said.

"Mike. I really thought you-well-I mean last time… You know…"

"It's okay. You've got stuff to do-to clean. It's okay. See yuh next time," I said. I had her feeling guilty or so I thought. But now she did something unexpected: she turned the tables on me.

"Mike. If you like me a little-I mean again. Maybe you'd like-maybe you'd consider, you know, coming home. What do you think?" she said.

"Well, I…"

"Yes?"

"Not yet," I said. "Not yet." I'd almost caved; that scared me.

"Okay, Mike. Okay." We gave each other a little wave and she left. The odd thing? I wanted to say yes to her proposition. Didn't I? Then all of a sudden I knew. I knew why I hadn't decided to go back. It would have put a chink in my plans to see more of Ruby.

******

Over the next few weeks I called Lily into service six times. On at least two of those occasions I was certain I'd interrupted her game playing. But, as to that, I really couldn't be sure. And then the odds played out and it happened. She and her cop and me and Ruby found ourselves at the same place at the same time.

I couldn't say for sure the which of us was the more shocked, but being something of a betting man, I was laying six to five it was me.

Denny's was my favorite lunchtime stop. I was often too busy to indulge myself, but today was a holiday, and I'd asked Ruby if she had anything planned. She'd said no. So here we were ordering patty melts. I felt the stare drilling into my conscious mind from my left.

"Hello, Michael. I see you have managed to find a friend," said Lily. She wasn't smiling.

"Lily! Uh-yes-this is my-friend, Ruby." I said. "I see you've brought a friend of yours along too. I don't think we've met before." I wasn't quite staring at the man. He was smirking big time. I had the feeling he was a gnats eyelash from breaking out laughing. "Yes, this is Lester Boyer, as you say, a friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you," said officer Boyer. His smile was getting to me. I wanted to punch his lights out, but quite apart from attacking a cop; he would have killed me, so I kept my want to myself.

Lily seemed to get it that there was more tension in the air than was warranted by a mere chance meet up. She took her man by the arm and steered him to another booth at the far end of the restaurant. Ruby watched as they retreated.

"That your wife?" said Ruby.

"Yes, and her loverboy. Anyway, I thought that it went well. Didn't you?" I said.

"Hmm, depends on what you mean by well," said Ruby. "I know the guy-well-he's busted me twice. The second time he let me off for-well-a small consideration."

"Huh?"

"He made me suck him off," she said. The food came. The food came, but suddenly I had zero appetite.

"Sweet Jesus," I said. I chanced a look in their direction. Lily was laughing. She was laughing hard, though muffling the volume with her hand, and that could only mean he'd told her I was dating a prostitute. My humiliation was total. I wouldn't be calling Lily anymore, and it was problematical if I would be seeing Ruby anymore either. I needed a hole to crawl into. At that moment Trinidad Tobago was looking like it might just be the place.

Ruby ate and I nibbled. She kept glancing at me. "Ashamed you're with me?" she said, matter-of-factly. That stopped me.

"No-well-not ashamed, but…"

"Embarrassed?" I guess my look cued her.

"Look," she said, "Yeah, I'm a whore, and a proud one. But, he's a crooked cop. And, she's a cheatin' spouse. Now, among the four of us which two do you think is the most deserving of being embarrassed?" I looked her askance.

"You know, you're right," I said. "but it doesn't make their attitudes any less hurtful."

"No, it doesn't. But, get over it. It is what it is and that ain't much," she said.

"Yeah, okay," I said.

They left before us. As they passed our table-which was inevitable-Lily didn't laugh, in fact her look, as she glanced in my direction, was something entirely different than I expected. It was-what-sympathy! Now, I was pissed off.

******

It was a good two months since the meet up at Denny's. I hadn't called the bitch, and I'd only met with Ruby once since that fateful day: and that was a week or so after the aforementioned event. She'd actually called me. We'd gone out, Ruby and I, and had lunch; and then I laid it on her that I wouldn't be needing her services anymore. I think she was disappointed and not just because of the money. Originally I'd only planned to be with Ruby for a couple of months tops, but I had extended that time frame.

Ruby'd been understanding and made me promise to call if I needed anything. I assured her I would. But we both knew we were through; the hit to my ego had been just too much to overcome.

And, then it was today, Sunday, and somebody was knocking at my door. I answered it. I was mildly surprised, but I didn't, I don't think, show it.

"Whaddya want, Lily?" I said.

"Can I come in?" she said.

"To what end? I've been paying the bills. You've got no complaint, so why do you want to bother me?"

"Whew! Lester was right. You are in a way, aren't you?" she said. "Let me in, Mike. I won't bite." I didn't invite her in but I left the door open and went back to the kitchen where I'd been fixing me some pancakes. She followed me.

"Got nothing to say to me?" she said.

"No," I said. She nodded.

"That day, that day at Denny's. That's it isn't it?" she said. "I did something or Lester, something. Right?"

"I've asked you once. I'm only going to ask you once more then you can leave if you don't want to answer me," I said. "Why are you here?" She deflated. I continued to mix the batter for my breakfast.

"I just wondered why you haven't called me, is all. I mean it's been a while. I was kinda getting to looking forward to our visits, and then nothing." I snickered.

"Yeah right," I said.

"But to answer 'your' question. Yeah, it was something you did at Denny's that day. You laughed at me; I saw it, and that ended you and me forever. So now you know. Your question is answered. I hope I'm not being unnecessarily vague. Now you can go back to your fuck toy and have another good laugh," I said.

"Jesus! You're hurt aren't you? Bad hurt. Okay, I'm not going to kid you, Mike. Finding out that you were having lunch with a prostitute; well, it was kinda funny. I did laugh when he told me. I didn't know you saw it, me laughing. But, at least that explains things. Mike, it was nothing. You're still the man you always were…"

"Yeah, the joke I've always was to you. I get it. Now, you've gotten what you came for, so please do us all a favor and leave," I said.

"But, you're wrong. I did get my initial question answered true enough, but I did not get what I came for. Not yet," she said. I looked her askance.

"Huh?" I said. She smiled.

"I came to see if you would be so kind as to screw me," she said.

"Huh?"

"Come on, Mike, you're not a beginner at this stuff. It's not rocket science. I want your penis to penetrate my vagina and leave a large deposit of your manly semen inside of me. I want it-no-need it. And, I'd appreciate it if you would forget the hotcakes and do me now. Whaddya say?" she said. I just stared.

"What? You're not horny this morning?" she said, giving me that look.

"Uh… " I watched as she started stripping. For the life of me I was rock hard.

I was able to last four minutes the first time, but eleven minutes the second go 'round.

I rolled off of her breathing about as hard as I ever had after such an eventuality. "Ready to talk now big boy?" she said.

"Not really," I said, "maybe later." She giggled.

"Any chance you might be willing to forgive and forget?" she said.

"Forgive yes, forget, not real likely," I said.

"I'll settle for that for now," she said. "Can I stay, you know today and tonight?" I nodded. I needed to cuddle with somebody. I needed that more than the pussy, and I needed the pussy really really bad!

And we did cuddle that night. She wrapped her legs around me and held me captive until that evil sun god woke our asses up.

Wide awake, I found myself crying.

"Honey?" she said. She was majorly concerned.

I spun out of bed and waddled a few feet away for the bed and her. She followed me.

"I'm okay. I was just-it was just…"

"Shut up. I'm here for you," she said.

We showered together and ate some hot cereal together and shared a couple of spousal kisses together. It couldn't last.

"You should be mine and only mine," I said. I got up from the table and headed unconsciously toward the coffeepot.

"Honey, I am yours. I have sex with others sometimes, but I am yours and only yours. The sex thing is only play with them. With you it's love and cuddling and safety and togetherness. It's better with you in almost every way," she said.

"But not in the main way, right, Lily?" I said. I wasn't being snide or sarcastic. I was just stating the reality.

"Main way? You are the main way, honey. Lester and the rest are-what-just kind of supplementary. The big cock thing the twenty minute screw thing the dirty thing. Fun, but nothing really important in the final analysis. That said, honey, it-what they bring to the table-is something I need. It's just on the side, but I do need it. Can you understand that? Maybe cut me a little slack when it comes to Lester and his limited usefulness?"

"You didn't cum last night did you?" I said.

"Honey, cumming is nice, but it's not a deal breaker if I don't cum. Love is way way beyond cumming on the list of things that make me or any woman tingle. Try to believe me," she said.

"You didn't answer my question," I said. "But, then again, maybe you did."

"No, I didn't cum the way you mean, no. What I did do was breathe a sigh of gratitude that a man like you could care about a cheating whore like me, and, forgive me. You said you forgave me."

"I did and I do. But, I cannot forget. If you could give up Lester and the boys; well, maybe I could get over it. But, always knowing that I was never going to be able to satisfy you makes getting back together all but impossible.

"Lily, I'm going to tell you something that good 'ole Lester should get a big heehaw out of," I said.

"Honey, Lester is not laughing at you. I-we-talked it over. We know we've been assholes toward you. I want to make it up to you, and, believe it or not, so does he," she said.

"What?"

"He-we-want you to join in with us when we do things. Share the fun that he and I have…"

"Lily! Please, let me finish what I was going to say.

"The day you caught Ruby and I at Denny's. You know why I was with her, spent time with her? I was with her to learn how to please a woman. She was tutoring me. I paid her a thousand dollars a week for months to teach me. And, I thought she'd done a pretty good job. My hope was to be able to come back to you and dazzle you with my skills, make you forget all of those other guys. But…"

"That's why you did some of those things last night!" she squealed.

"Yes, I guess, but even so, I still wasn't able to get you off. I'm a loser Lily when it comes to pleasing a woman, at least my woman. So no, we aren't going to make it you and I. I had hoped and prayed that I could learn enough to compensate for my nothing dick and skills. But, it just isn't there, the whatever it is that makes some men good at being-well-men.

"I'm a good provider, Lily. I consider myself honest and sensitive toward others and especially you. I will make that claim. But, that's pretty much it. I just don't have it when it comes to pleasing a woman sexually. End of story."

She looked stricken. I didn't see it coming. She slapped me so hard that she spun me around. I fell in a heap on my ass. I looked up at her stunned.

"A loser! Not up to being a man! You freakin' asshole! You're twice the man any of them are. A macho sex machine, no. But a man, you are most definitely that, and don't ever let me hear you say anything like that again. Got it, big boy!" she said. I nodded.

"Okay, okay," I said.

"I'd clearly struck a nerve. I didn't know what to make of it, but at least I had gotten to her to some extent. I don't know how I felt about that, but I didn't feel like crying; I had to think that that was something.

I watched her as she strode out.

******

"You're dumping me. I'm hearing you right? You're dumping me," said Lester.

"Yes, that's about the size of it," said Lily. "Oh, don't feel too bad; we had a run. But, I have finally gotten my head outta my ass, and realized that what I had was better than any of the alternatives."

"You'll be back begging for a good screwing before the month is out," he said.

"You know, I really and truly don't think that I will," she said.

******

I made the call. I was leary about doing so, but I decided to do it.

It was my intention to make this be my last night with Ruby, well, as a customer. I'd decided to ask her to marry me. Yeah, I know, that in spite of the fact that I was now having some weird second thoughts about Lily. But, the bottom line was that after all things were considered; there were still too many doubts hanging around just a little ways down the pike. And, then there was the biggee. I still couldn't live with the lifestyle she wanted me to accept; it was just too much for me. Hell, the way I was seeing it, I was doing her a favor by letting her go.

******

"You called," she said, as I opened the door to her knocking.

"Indeed I did," I said. "I'd like to hire your services for the evening if that would be all right."

"Really, and what kind of services did you have I mind, may I ask?" she said.

"Well, I'm in need of some advanced tutorial in Anatomy and Physiology," I said.

I watched as she made herself comfortable and naked. "You going to undo a couple s of buttons or just stay dressed like that all night?" she said. I think I blushed. I did start undoing buttons. Soon everything with buttons was pooled on the floor alongside of us.

I played with her nipples, she played with my glans, I played with her slit-tracing it, she squished my balls: it looked to be a very good lesson in anatomical structure and physiological functioning, I thought.

She gasped at one point and I knew she'd made it; well, I was pretty sure she had. Unloading everything I had in my ball sack, I rolled off of her. She closed her legs as if preserving the feeling.

"You made it?" I said.

"Yes. Not a big one, but a definite one," she said. I smiled to myself; I guess I was progressing.

We slept. I awoke to the shower running in the adjacent bathroom. I stared up at the ceiling fan spinning above me. I glanced over at the envelope on the nightstand beside me. It contained $500. It would be the last time I would ever pay for it. But, maybe not the last time I ever screwed the woman in the shower.

She came out wrapped in a towel. She smiled at me. "Wakey uppy are we?" she said.

I looked over at the clock. "You up for going out for a drink?" I said. She gave me a look.

"It's after 11:00PM," she said.

"Yeah, and the bistros are open till 2:00AM," I countered. She looked iffy, shrugged.

"Sure. Okay," she said. "Why not."

"Why not indeed," I said.

******

"Anything else," said Nell. "I glanced over at Ruby. She shook her head.

"No, I guess that's about it for the night," I said.

"You've been acting kind of strange since we arrived here, Mike. Anything wrong?" said Ruby.

"Wrong? No, well, I'll let you know in a minute," I said.

"Huh? What?" she said. I kept my gaze focused on her.

"Ruby…"

"Yes," she said, urging me on.

"Ruby, this may sound a little off the wall. But, it's something that's been on my mind for a while now, and I have finally gotten up the nerve to risk voicing it," I said.

"Miiicchhaaeelllll… " she said, drawing out the name.

"Well, I mean if you're of a mind to be kind, how about us getting married," I said.

"What! Married? You mean to each other? You wanna marry a whore-a happy whore?" she said.

"That's about the size of it," I said.

"You do realize that I'm everything you're angry at your wife for being. Right? I mean she and I are doing the same kinds of things."

"Lily and I aren't broken up because she's having sex with other men; well, not exactly anyway," I said. "I could forgive mistakes or even affairs. But, arrogance and betrayal? Not even," I said. She nodded, and paused.

"Before I answer, I have to ask, have you really thought-I mean really thought-about giving her a chance to stop all of the shit she's doing. I mean really given her a chance, not just sarcastic ultimatums?" she said.

"Well, yes. I mean I don't think I was sarcastic or whatever," I said.

"Mike, you might just be perfect for me-maybe. But, I know you still have feelings for her. Hell, that's why you hired me to teach you stuff, so you could save your marriage. Give the woman one more chance. And do it in a positive way. Do that, and we'll talk again," she said. I nodded. I think I looked a little downcast.

"Okay," I said. One more try.

"Mike, look at it from my angle. If you do finally break up with her, I'll be there for you; but, no matter how you slice it, I'm still only going to be your second choice. Not too good for the old ego. But, I have come to, well, love you too. And before you ask, if we should end up together, I will stop my whoring for money," she said.

I took a deep breath. "Okay. I understand. Like I said. I will make the effort."

******

Sometimes people do seem to, not only think alike, but to have the same idea at the same time. I was picking up the handset to make the call when it rang in my hand.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hi, it's me," said Lily.

"Lily! I was just about to call you," I said.

"Really?"

"Yes, no lie," I said. "Are you too busy to meet with me?" I said.

"No, And I was about to ask you the same thing," she said.

"Tito's in half an hour?" I said.

"That'd be good," she said.

******

I was nervous; she appeared to be nervous too. We'd been sitting across from each other for almost five minutes since our hellos but had said nothing-I mean absolutely nothing!

"We have to talk sooner or later,' she said.

"Later's okay by me," I said. She snickered.

"I broke it off with Lester," she said. That was my wife: go with the big guns from the opening salvos. No beating around the bush waiting to see what the other side would be doing. Oh no, not my Lily. And, I had to admit she'd made a direct hit. I leaned back in my seat and considered my response.

"And-were-are there any others out there waiting to take his place?" I said. She shook her head.

"No. No one, Mike. Well, except you that is," I said. I nodded.

"So, what is it you want then exactly? I mean what do you see happening here, tonight?" I said.

"Ideally?" she said. I nodded. "Us getting back together. You giving me a serious spanking. And, well, us living happily ever after."

"I'd like to think that all of that would be possible, Lily. But-trust is still and issue, and not even the biggest issue," I said.

"Huh? Not the biggest? Oh," she said. "My words."

"Not the words themselves, Lily, but what they meant, and the fact that you meant them. Kinda hard to get by all of that.

"What I see, Lily, is that if we got back together, all would be rosy for a while. But, over time, my inability to please you would cause you to revert to old habits. Oh, I'm sure that you'd do your damnedest to take care of my needs; but, eventually you'd feel cheated. You'd look for satisfaction somewhere else. Eventually, I'd discover you. Or, you'd tell me like you did this time. Then we'd be right back to where we are now," I said.

"Mike, no. I'm a different person anymore. My needs are still there, but they are not the same needs as they once were. These last months, since you walked out that day, the pleasure I got out of big cocks and the rest has been slowly declining. I can't explain it. But, I don't want just big anymore or even high levels of skill. I want love, and quality love. I want you, Mike, and only you," she said.

I sat stock still as I listened to her. That's what this was about, listening to her. Did I believe her? Could I accept that she'd made the changes she was claiming she'd made? The bottom line was that it was a gamble, any decision I made was going to be a gamble on my part. Accept her words and try to rebuild our life together. Not accept them and maybe end up wishing I had forevermore-and-forevermore live jealous of whichever of her lovers would pick up where I left off. I sighed.

"Okay, Lily. Even after everything I said minutes ago. Even after everything you've just told me. Even after all of the other things that have been said and done over these past months. It comes down to a choice: to trust or not to trust, that is the question. I'm going to gamble that you can make the switch that I am so afraid you can't. Reason? Living without you would be just as bad as living with your cheating. But, Lily, if you ever… " I started.

"I won't, Michael. I won't," she said. She came to me and wrapped her arms around me. "I love you. Nothing else matters."

******

Ruby understood. She'd actually predicted the outcome as it finally came down. Our meet up, however, was strange. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something wasn't right-or-strange. But, in the end she wished me well, and told me to stay in touch. And, she really meant to stay in touch. I assured her I would. I was very concerned about her, and I promised myself to be checking in on her from time to time; she'd become a true friend.

And, well reader if you thought that was the end of it, you were in error with your analysis.

******

Over the next few months Lily and I got better. I began to understand her need, really her mania, for sex and the tools of sex. I also began to trust that I was able to make up a for lot of my short comings. I was getting better at the things that Ruby'd taught me, and that translated into a better experience for my wife. Could she have been faking it, her satisfaction? Yes, but I didn't think she could do it over the long haul and not slip up. And, she hadn't slipped up; hence, my confidence that she was being straight with me.

Our time together was good overall, not just in the bedroom. We had begun making a night of it at the Hinge from time to time, maybe twice a month. We'd go in and party and dance and go home and have wild ass sex. The fact is that sometimes we'd only make it as far as the parking lot before she pulled her panties down and off and made me take her then and there. My wife was a horny broad for damn sure.

And, Ruby? I'd-we'd-seen her from time to time at the Hinge. She'd shared our table and after the first time or two-which were a little bit uncomfortable-things settled down and we'd talk and party together. Once she even joined us with one of her johns; that'd been interesting. But, nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for what happened just now, one minute ago. And Lily? She was speechless, not comatose exactly but definitely speechless.

"Hi guys," said Ruby. "I'd like to introduce you to my fiancé, Lester Boyer." The man stuck his hand out, and stunned as I was, I took it and shook it.

"Yes, we've kinda met before," I said. "Uh-congratulations?"

"Lester?" squeaked Lily, finally finding her voice.

"Hi, Lil', how's it goin'," said the man. The same man that had been screwing my wife for months, the same man that had helped my wife cuckold me. The same man possessed of an eight inch sex engine; and, the man who was apparently the new fiancé of she who had almost become 'my' new fiancé! "Guess, this is a bit of a surprise, huh?"

"You could say that," I said, watching Ruby intently.

"No joke big, Mike," said Ruby. "We ran into each other a couple of times in these past months. You know since you've gotten back with Lily. Turns out Lester and I have a lot in common. And no, I don't mean the two of you, although that would be true enough I suppose."

"A lot in common, but you said he busted you-twice," I said.

"True enough, but like you, I don't hold grudges forever, and marrying him will give me the opportunity to exact a little revenge," she said. She was laughing, but it's what she said. I nodded.

"Join you?" she said. I glanced over at Lily; she shrugged.

"I guess. But, it might be a while before I recover enough to say very much," I said.

"You can double that for me," said Lily, who was clearly still in a state of shock. Or, if not shock, something close to it.

We'd talked, at first tentatively I suppose would be the word, and then animatedly. It turned out that Lester after having gotten dumped by Lily, had ruminated over our chance meet up in the bar that night; the night she, Lily, had laughed at me being with a prostie, Ruby. He'd also remembered the state of the art blowjob, he'd once gotten from Ruby to forget about one of her sinful legal transgressions. At any rate he'd called her. They'd dated, and he'd fallen, as had I, for the voluptuous sex siren.

The ride home was tense.

"You miss her?" said Lily.

"Miss her? How do you mean?" I said.

"The sex with her. Evidently it's pretty good or my ex-lover wouldn't have been interested in picking up your leavings. I can say with confidence that that, dear husband, is a flat assed fact!" she said.

"The sex was good. No pretending, no fake orgasms. Did I thrill her? No. Did I totally disappoint her as I did you? No. But, it was a different situation. She was teaching a sexual ignoramus, so her efforts were aimed at rectifying that little reality. But, to answer your question: do I miss her? Not the way you mean.

"With her, as she pointed out to me when there was still doubt about you and me, she was never my first choice. It was always you. She would have been a good wife to me, but there would always have been the memory of you and that might have been lurking in the background," I said.

"Hmm, I guess we dodged a bullet, huh?" said Lily.

"I guess it would be fair to say that," I said. She leaned in against me.

"Thank you," she said. "I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't gotten my head outta my ass. Well, anyway, I did."

I smiled and began to hope that maybe we'd be all right for real.

-----------------------------

   Series:Mikey and Leslie
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A conversation has life altering results.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.web.archive.org/web/20170303005654/www.literotica.com/s/mikey-and-leslie
Published:2024-01-19
Leslie didn't actually look smug, but she wasn't real empathetic either. That she had decided to lay her cards on the table, however, had not entirely been expected by me. But there they were.

"I'm sorry you found out this way, Mikey, but it is what it is. Roger does it for me. I love you still, it's just that I need a little more than, well, you're able to give me," she said. "I hope you can see what I'm saying here, my husband, and let me have this little thing."

"Really," I said. "You sure know how to hurt a guy, Leslie." Evidently I wasn't demonstrating enough angst or hurt or whatever; she actually looked perplexed.

"Mikey? What's going on?" she said. "I know you. You're acting all too unconcerned. Something's going on. What is it?"

"Evidently what's going on is you fucking Roger Claibourne my used to be good buddy," I said. Now, she was beginning to looked pissed.

"Mikey, I don't know what you've got going on, but I hope you're not planning on doing anything rash," she said. I smiled. That really set her off.

"Damn it Mikey! What's going on! I have a right to know," she said. Now that pissed "me" off.

"Right? You have a right to know what I'm thinking?" I said. "I could ask you if I had a right to know that you were fucking my used to be best friend, Leslie. I did didn't I, I mean have a right to know? But, you kept it from me, didn't you?

"Tell you what, you show me yours and I'll show you mine?' I said. Jesus I did love cliché's.

"What are you talking about!" she almost screamed. She was beginning to lose it.

"Well, why don't we wait until your erstwhile lover comes downstairs and joins us. It seems unfair to leave him out of this little conversation," I said.

I had walked in on them just fifteen minutes prior to the current conversation. Leslie Ford, my wife, was getting it hot and heavy by the man who had been my best friend since age six, thirty years and counting. Talk about cliché's.

After the initial yelling and running around trying to find discarded underwear et cetera, I had suggested that instead of my doing something untoward, like beating the shit out of Roger, that we all adjourn to the kitchen to see where things were going to go from here. They'd agreed-reluctantly.

"Mikey, I'm sorry. I know I hurt you. I didn't mean to, honest to God. I just wish I could make you understand. I'm not planning on leaving you. Please don't think that. In every other way you do it and you do it right for me. It's just that… " she ran out of words.

"Like what, Leslie? Does he have a bigger dick? What?" I said. I was still so calm. She was actually becoming frightened. "You were planning on staying married to me, just so long as I didn't get too upset over you fucking my best friend? Is that about it?" I said.

"It's not like that. You and I can still do it too. It's just that his… " she stopped.

"His what?" I said. "His dick is bigger?" She looked down.

"I need it, Mikey. I really do. But, it's not a case of instead-of, rather it's an and-to thing. I mean I want you both. Does that seem like something that makes any sense," she said.

"Well, I don't know, Leslie. Does it seem to make sense to you? Would it make sense to say Roger's sister or mother?" I said. "or wife if he had one?"

"Sorry, Mikey, Leslie and I are so sorry for all of this," said Roger, entering the room and the conversation for the first time.

"Well, thank you for that Rog," I said. "It goes a long way to mending some fences here." He nodded gravely.

"Can I ask Rog, how long have you and, well, my wife been getting it on?" I said.

He began to look a little uncomfortable. He spread his hands in an "I surrender" gesture. He looked over at his playmate. Leslie looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole. I waited.

"Maybe a year and a half," he said. Leslie was beginning to cry.

"That long," I said. "I had no idea."

"Jesus, Mikey, get mad or something will you! You're scaring me," she said. Roger looked like he wanted to take her in his arms but he restrained himself.

"Get mad? Only dogs get mad," I said. "Look, Leslie, Roger, for the past many years we have been friends-husband and wife-I looked straight at Leslie. No, not friends, we've been family. What was mine, Roger, was always yours too. I hadn't actually thought that my wife would have been included in any such list; but, maybe that's the way things are these days. I mean this isn't 1692 Salem is it?

I began slowly shaking my head, and for the life of him Roger was unconsciously mimicking me. Leslie's brow was wrinkled and she was looking at me like she had no idea who I was-she didn't.

"Look Leslie, Roger, we should remain close. I mean don't you think so really?" I said. My tone was so sincere that I was pretty sure I had them sold. I waited looking each of them in the eye in turn.

"Mikey, aren't you mad?" said Leslie. "My God, I had no idea-I mean I have no idea. Mikey, come on what's going on? I mean aren't you mad-really?"

"Kids, I have to admit, that when I found out, I was not real happy. I mean-my best friend for my whole life fucking my wife. Well, you can imagine," Leslie's face took on the look she'd originally had at the beginning of this little confab.

"Mikey?" she said. I raised my hand in a kind of sign of peace.

"But, then I thought. There has to be a way out of this," I said. "I didn't want to lose your friendship, Roger. And Leslie, I wanted you to be happy. So what to do."

"Wait!" said Roger. "Am I understanding you right? You knew about us before…"

"Before today?" I said, interrupting him. "Yes, I've known for about a year. But you guys have been at it for more than a year and half? Man, you guys had me fooled, I guess. Poof! What an idiot I was right?" I laughed.

"Mikey, what…"

"Oh, don't look so worried, Les. I told you your happiness, and Roger's of course, mean everything to me. I'm not going to go off on you," I said. I looked at my watch. I had to time this just perfectly for full effect. And, I certainly wanted the full effect-oh yeah. What was I the Bard said, "All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players… " something like that at any rate.

Looking at my watch again, I raised my hand like a starter of a foot race. My hand came down as if unleashing the hounds of speed and the doorbell rang as if on cue startling all but me. God I love it when a plan comes together.

"Leslie, would you answer that please," I said.

"Uh-okay-sure," she said. She almost walked backwards trying to keep an eye on me as she sought to admit the newcomers to the scene.

I couldn't see her face when she opened the door, but I did hear her squeak out a greeting. "Mom! Gracie! But, how?"

By now both Roger and I had finally made it to the front room and the look on Roger's face if not exactly a model of terror it was something close to it.

"Mother! Sis!" he blurted. "What? How?"

"It's okay, Rog. I invited them. It's okay really. They know everything," I said.

"But-but-but!" he stuttered.

"Calm down, Rog. It's all right really," I said.

"Leslie," said Mildred Claibourne. "You look wan, dear. Come here. Let's sit down there on the couch.

"Gracie, honey, would you get your sister-in-law a glass of water," said Mildred.

"Sure mom," said Gracie. She disappeared kitchenward.

"Well, we're all here. It's time we straightened out a few things," I said. Mildred accepted the glass of water that Gracie offered her, as she returned, and made Leslie take a sip.

I was smiling. "To begin with you two. You have done some really bad stuff here. But, rather than going off on you which was my first instinct. I decided to talk to the family. You know, get their advice, share the pictures and the audio stuff I'd gathered. They, or rather Mildred came up with a plan that was quite frankly pretty much flawless.

"What the hell!" said Roger, finally finding his voice.

"Well, we might be heading there, but it was heaven for eleven months or so, but now it's over," I said.

"Huh?" said Leslie, somewhat recovered from her initial shock.

"Well, it's really quite simple, dear. Since Roger's dad passed a few years ago, his mom has been horny as hell but not getting any relief. I volunteered to fill that void; she accepted. She's a great piece by the way," I said. I got a tongue in cheek "you shit you" look from Mildred with that one; I shrugged a playful I'm sorry in response.

The look on Roger's face was pure mind bending shock. "You've-you've been doing…"

"Doing your mom? Yes. But, not anymore," I said.

"His dick is plenty big enough for any woman, by the way, son," said his mom.

Roger looked his mother in the eyes and spat out his bile, "You've been fucking my best friend-he's-he's…"

"Fourteen years younger than me. I know son. But, what woman doesn't want a younger dick to fuck her," she said.

"I don't know, Roger, but I have to say; if there were such a thing a MILF town, your mom would be the mayor," I said. Mildred Claibourne was smirking the smirk of a truly satisfied female.

"But, it's over now, you say," said Leslie trying to get a handle on the strangest day she had yet breathed air on the third planet from the sun.

"Yes, and that brings me to the plan I-we-have hatched to save our friendship, Roger, yours and mine," I said. "And, your happiness too, dear." I was looking straight at my very confused wife.

"Leslie, I will be divorcing you forthwith. But, that should make you happy. You will be able to marry Roger," I said.

"But-but-but-Mikey, I don't want a divorce. We, Roger and me, were just playing. You know like when we were kids. We aren't in love, Mikey. I only love you. Please Mikey…"

"Now Leslie, when we started this little talk a while ago you were saying how Roger 'did it for you.' How you needed what was it, oh yeah, 'more than I could give,' I think you said. Well, now I've solved the problem for you-for both of you," I said.

"But, if you are giving up doing-" said Leslie.

"Yes, Mildred. Yes, I'm giving her up, and it was a tough decision I tell you. But, I have a fiancé now, and she's a one man woman and she expects me to be a one woman man," I said.

"Who is it?" screamed Leslie. She was beginning to break up. I let my gaze wander in the direction of Gracie.

All eyes followed my lead.

"What the fuck!" yelled Roger.

"What can I say, Rog. She does it for me. And, frankly, Les; I need more than you're willing to give," I said.

******

The hullabuloo that broke loose at my announcement was something to behold.

The two cheaters were trying to convince the rest of us that our behavior had been and was in fact still, inappropriate. But in the end, ragged and tired the two of them left together. The three musketeers shared two bottles of wine before the day was done and plans were made.

******

Epilog:

I did divorce Leslie and marry Gracie. We are expecting. Mildred comes by almost daily to care for her very pregnant daughter.

The two adulterers? They're living together but haven't yet tied the knot. Will they? They seem to be getting along, but the spark that one might expect from such a union seems to be pretty dim. What's that other old cliché? Oh yes: "Cheaters never prosper." I do love cliché's; I think that they get a bad rap.

-----------------------------

   Series:Millie and Jake
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Jake goes to prison; Millie finds a lover.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.forum.allporncomix.com/threads/matt-moreau-cuckold-cheating-hotwife.1934/
Published:2024-03-05
Chapter 1

Jake Carson never was a truly good man, but he was gentle. A woman likes a gentle man. A man might be an idiot; he might be careless, dirty, or even unpretty, but, if a man is gentle, he will get a look see from a woman, from most women. Oh, and if he can make a woman laugh; well, he wins.

Problem with Jake was he was getting looks from the police too, and they weren't laughing. Jake liked cars, not a problem. But, liking other people's cars enough to steal them that tended to be a problem. So now Jake was in prison, or, actually on his way there. His wife, Millie, was going to see him for the last time before he headed north. See him off, it sounded to her almost like he going on a cruise, when she said it, but Chico was no cruise. He would be away for ten years. Oh, with good behavior, he might be out in four or five. Millie just wanted to smash his face for doing this to her. She loved him, but she was angry, justifiably angry!

Her situation? Desperate. She had no money; the lawyer had got all that there was. She had no job, but she had to get one in a hurry. The rent on their house would be due in three weeks, and then the pressure would be on.

******

She hated the place, the visitors' complex at the county lockup: there was a receiving entrance that all, who wanted clearance, had to traverse before getting to the outdoor visiting area in the back. It was a forbidding place, the visitors' area, heavy rolls of concertina razor wire topped a twelve foot high chain link fence. Rows of polished steel two person tables with built in stools were the only furniture in evidence. Jails were not nice places.

They searched her whenever she came in; they searched all of the visitors. And it wasn't pleasant; it was invasive and personal, and dirty. The guards, the women guards, were worse than the men. They seemed to take pleasure in hurting and humiliating the wives. But, no matter how bad it was for the wives, it was worse for Jake and the other inmates.

The worst? He had told her once. It was watching her walk away, back to her car while he had his fingers entwined in the chain link of the fence watching her go. Watching her cross the parking lot that abutted the fence, knowing she was going somewhere that he could not follow. Watching her walk away and not be able to go with her, not able to stop at the store with her; not able to comfort her when she was alone and broke and sick or worried about him, or anything.

And of course there was the absence of sex. None for him at all, unless one of those stinking bastards in the prison made him his bitch. Oh, and no sex for her either-unless she cheated. And, how could he call her a cheater; he had cheated her out of a big piece of their lives together. He was the cheater, the worst kind.

Millie knew it happened, the homosexuality. She was sick for him, worrying about him. Jake was her husband and she loved him. Gawd why! Why those stupid cars!

"Hi baby," he said, as he took a seat on the stool across the table from her.

"Hi." she was trying not to cry. "Oh Jake, when you get out, never again, okay. We won't even have a car. We'll walk or take cabs, but no cars, okay?" she said.

"You got it baby. I know I've said it a thousand times since the trial, but I am so sorry. I am so sick at heart for what I have done to you, to us," he said.

"How did the job interview go?" he said, trying to change the subject.

"Okay I think. I think I will get the job; I just don't know how soon I'll be starting, maybe in a couple of weeks."

"Call my parents. I talked to mom yesterday. They can help till you get your first check," he said.

"Okay, Jake, I will. I'll get by somehow. There's a wives' support group too. I will be going to that tonight. They're supposed to be able to help out when one or another of us is in tough straights. Anyway, I'm gonna go and see."

"Good Millie. Good. There's something else I have to ask you," he said.

"What's that, Jake?"

"You know I'll be headed north tomorrow. It's about a three hour drive, so I hear; that's pretty far, I know. Will you be able to still visit me sometimes? I mean we've talked about it, but I didn't know then where I would be taken until now," he said.

"Every month, Jake. I promise you that. If I can't because of illness or something, I will get a message to you. Maybe through your mom. But, I will be there on visiting day if I can be, you can depend on that."

He smiled. "You know they have trailers there, I mean at Chico."

"Trailers?"

"Yeah, so that husbands and wives can be alone and together for a little while. Maybe even overnight sometimes. I mean when you visit," he said.

"You mean-for-sex?"

"Yes. I know it's going to be pretty rough for the both of us having no sex. But, well, it's only a thought," he said.

"Just like you Jake, always thinking about my pussy."

"The most beautiful thing in the world, baby, I'm an expert on your pussy."

She smiled and then laughed. It was the first light moment in all of the six visits she'd had with him at the county jail. "Just behave inside that place, Jake," she said. "I need you out as soon as possible. I really need you, okay. I mean I really need you," she said, with as much emphasis as she could.

The hated voice came over the loudspeaker announcing the end of visiting hours. They weren't supposed to touch, but Macon was on duty. So he leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. Some of the guards were a little more human than others.

She turned to go. At the gate, she turned back and gave him a little wave.

She couldn't see it as she dodged an oncoming car to get to hers at the back of the lot. But he swallowed hard before beginning to cry yet again as he watched her go; his fingers grew white as he squeezed the wire wall.

Most people never think of the feelings that inmates have, he thought to himself. Bad though many of them were, and others unlucky, all of them had feelings and almost all of them were in pain, bad mental pain.

******

There were some twenty women, jammed into the little hall on the second floor of the county lockup, waiting for the facilitator, the one who would lead the meeting and give the wives some of their options.

Millie sat between two black women. The one to her right was comely and young and slim; she was also as nervous as Millie was.

"Ever been to one of these before," said the woman.

Millie looked at her as though she were interrupting. It was embarrassing for her to be there among the other women, all of whom shared one thing in common: their husbands were one and all convicted criminals.

"No. First time," said Millie, deciding to be agreeable if not enthusiastic.

"Me too. My man's in for burglary," said the woman. "There won't be a second time; he gets this one mistake and that's it as far as I'm concerned."

Millie looked at her as though to say: that's pretty cold lady with your husband going inside tomorrow, but she left it alone.

"My Jake's in for stealing cars. Shit!" She said suddenly, "We didn't need the damn money; he did it for thrills. Now I'm gonna be paying too," said Millie between clenched teeth.

Her new acquaintance nodded her understanding. "All of us here in the same boat," said the woman. "I'm Jill Reynolds. My husband, Daniel, is on his way to Chico. Yours too?"

"Yes. Three fucking hours up the road, at least so my husband told me," said Millie.

"Yeah, that's about right, I know the area. Never been to the prison, but I know the town," said Jill.

"I'm kinda afraid of going up there. How about you?" said Jill.

Millie hadn't thought that far ahead, but now that someone else had brought it up, she realized she wasn't very comfortable with the idea either: all of those killers and rapists and thugs and such!

"Hadn't thought much about it, but I guess I can do it," said Millie.

"Oh, I'll do it, we all will, but that little asshole of mine will pay for doing this to me," said Jill. "I ain't takin' this layin' down."

Everybody came awake as a stout middle aged woman with frizzy hair and a rough hewn profile entered stage right and came to the front.

"Good evening ladies," she said. "My name is Mildred Doyle. I'm with County Social Services, and I'm here to give you some of your options and to answer any questions that you may have, or try to at any rate."

"Let's begin… " She spoke for some twenty minutes and asked for questions.

Leaving the meeting, Jill pulled Millie aside, and said, "Hey girl, would like some company on your visit next month. I mean we could go together and see our men and then we wouldn't be so-vulnerable, so alone."

"I-I don't know," said Millie. She paused, "Wait, on second thought never mind. Yes, I guess that would fine.

"You wanna drive or me," said Millie.

Jill looked guilty.

"What?" said Millie.

"I don't drive," she said. "I don't have a car either. I do have gas money though."

Millie smiled. She realized that the girl had played her. But it was not a biggee for her, not if the other girl bought the gas. "Okay, Jill, if you by the gas, all of it, I will do the driving. Deal?"

"Deal," said a happy and relieved Jill. "And you can pick the day. Neither of our guys are in for child abuse or drugs or stuff like that, so we'll be able to visit next month no problem. Some of the gals in there tonight might not be able to see their men for a while, and for sure they'll be getting no family visitations."

"What are those exactly? I mean what's the difference between a visit and a family visitation?" said Millie.

"You know, the trailers," said Jill.

She remembered what Jake had said about the trailers. "Oh yeah, I didn't know what they were called." She said.

"Yeah, at Chico you can stay overnight if you're cleared," said Jill.

Millie was surprised. "That Social Services woman didn't say anything about that. She just said we'd get the rules in the mail about visitations."

"That's because she doesn't have anything to do with the Department of Corrections, the DC," said Jill. "She's Social Services. She was here to see who among us needed to get a job or needed help with formula for the baby and the like."

"Oh. Well, I got a job, I think. That's why I didn't raise my hand to fill out that form. How about you? You didn't get one of the forms either."

"Oh yeah, I've got a job. And my pimp let's me keep sixty percent of what I earn; it's better than what some of those bums out there give their girls," she said.

Millie stopped cold, frozen in her stride. "You're a…"

"Call girl, but next door in Nevada. It's legal," said Jill. "Hope that doesn't queer us, I mean we're still on for the ride, right?"

"Uh-I guess-yeah, if you're a legal…"

"Whore, you can say it," said Jill. "I'm not ashamed of what I do. I'd be ashamed if I were a politician or some of those cops. I got a half dozen of each in my appointment book." She began to laugh out loud at the thought of it.

"Really?" said Millie

"Hell yeah, really," said Jill.

******

Millie picked up Jill at a coffee shop around the corner from her "real" apartment, that, opposed to the one in Nevada that she used for business.

Both were dressed appropriately, according to the rules the DC set forth for the prison" no spaghetti straps, no short skirts, jewelry minimal, and easily searchable purses.

"Ready to go?" said Millie to her new found acquaintance.

"Yeah, I guess. Let's do it," she said.

The drive was going to be a long one: a good opportunity for each to get to know the other.

The first few miles were relaxing and the two wives were quiet. Jill broke the silence.

"It's gonna be a little bit strange," said Jill.

"Yeah for sure. I just hope I don't break down and cry," said Millie.

"I'm not going to cry," said Jill. "My man deserves to be punished for what he's done. It doesn't mean I am going to love him any the less, but he deserves what he's getting and that's the long and the short of it."

"Gal, that's cold," said Millie.

"You think! Well, I wouldn't have to be driving to some prison to visit him if he had thought of me and us first, would I? I wouldn't be forced to be doing without my husband and his comfort and his cock for the next five years, would I? I tell yuh, girl, it's me that doesn't deserve to be punished, but I am going to be anyway. You too, if it comes to that," said Jill.

"I guess you're right, but what is, is. We just have to grin and bear it; well, bear it anyway," said Millie.

"Not me."

"Huh? What are you saying, Jill?"

"Let me ask you," said Jill, "are you going to take a lover? Is anyone after you yet? I mean that you know of?"

"Lover? You mean am I going to cheat on my man?"

"Cheat! Hell no. I mean are you going to take a lover and tell that man of yours that you're doing it and get him to not only go along with it but beg you to do it," said Jill.

"Oh yeah, he's gonna beg me to let another man fuck me. Oh yeah, like that's going to happen," said Millie very sarcastically.

"If you work it right, it will," said Jill. "Men are all alike. They will do anything their women tell them to do if they are horny enough. The trick is to make them, first, realize that they have no choice, and second, that it's their privilege to get on their knees and beg us to do as we wish," said Jill.

"What in hell are you saying?" said Millie. She was totally out of sync with her friend's line of thought.

"I'm saying that I am going to turn my man into a cuckold wimp like I should have done long before this and make him like it. That's what I'm saying."

Millie was speechless. Finally, she found her voice. "Do you know something about men that I don't know," said Millie. "I mean is there some magic that you have that makes you think that your man is going to go along with any of this stuff?"

Jill looked at Millie and smiled. "Girl, I'm a prostitute, and a good one. Not only a good one, but an experienced one: I know men. Every fucking one of them can be pussywhipped. There are two things, secrets, to always keep in mind, and then you win."

"Okay, I'll bite, what two secrets?" asked Millie.

"One: a woman must make sure that her man is always secure in his mind that she loves him and only him, no matter how much she plays or what she does that may hurt or humiliate him."

"Geezsus!"

"And two: a woman must keep her man horny 24/7."

"Double Geezsus!" said Millie. "How in hell is he going to feel secure if you're out fucking other guys? It makes no sense."

"Men make no sense. If he's horny he is only thinking with his dick. He only cares that after his wife is done getting screwed that she comes home to him and feeds him all of the gritty details. They love to hear it, all of it, especially how you felt while you were getting it. Making your man a cuckold actually frees him to love you more than he ever could in a vanilla lifestyle.

"Millie, I've been with a busload of men, and I am telling you it's a fact. Men want their women to rule over them and many if not most want their women to cuckold them, even if they don't realize it," she said.

"Are you going to tell Daniel that today?" said Millie.

"Yes. He'll cry at first, and then I'll comfort him. And by the time I leave he'll be on his knees begging me to be happy and to just be sure and visit him next month. I will, and I will share all of the details with him too. I will humiliate him and take his manhood away from him, and then give it back to him in small doses. I guarantee you, girl, when I finally get that man of mine back from that prison, he will be my perfect little cuckold slave. I fucking guarantee it."

Millie was taking it all in. At first incredulous, then noncommittal, then in tacit agreement; she began to rethink how she was going to deal with a husband who would be away for possibly as many as ten years. She mentally decided to play it by ear. All of the things Jill had said, and that she was saying from experience not just from pique at being in a bad situation was something: tantalizing maybe, interesting certainly.

******

It was almost 11:00AM before they arrived. The wives and girlfriends had all been frisked and cleared, and they were milling around in the outdoor visiting area of the prison waiting for their men. Millie caught sight of Jake almost immediately. A few yards down the mild incline, Jill was still waiting for her Daniel to appear.

Millie saw that Jake saw her too and she plopped down on the bench of the small picnic table that she had staked out.

He came over, greeted her, kissed her hard on the lips, and slid in across from her, elbows on the table. "I love you," he said.

Her smile of appreciation was wan but warm. She wanted to get down to brass tacks, but she knew that this first time she'd have to go a little bit slower. She reminded herself that she was going to play it by ear. They were looking at a minimum of four or five more years of this visiting stuff, and it wasn't going to be easy.

Millie could not know her man's mind at that moment. Unbeknownst to her he was about to open the floodgates of freedom for her. Jake had made up his mind to tell his womanh something he had long wanted to tell her, but had been t0o much of a pussy to dare; now it made sense to do so-boy did it ever.

Jake was six-foot three, one-hundred and ninety pounds, of dark-haired stubborn male macho. That he loved his wife was a total given; that his intelligence was not likely to be useful in the field of rocket science, at any level, was also a given. But, he wanted to do something to prove his devotion, and more than his devotion, to the woman of his dreams and his soul hope of maintaining his sanity over the next several years.

The solution he was about to propose was not without its risks, but he believed firmly that he and Millie could make it work. Well, they could that is if Millie were to buy into his idea. He'd know immediately if he had thought wrong. Her initial reaction to what he was about to say would clue him; he knew it.

Jill's husband arrived just as Jake was about to lay out his ideas. Millie waved back to Jill in answer to Jill pointing to her man before sitting down to talk to him. The two women would have much to talk about in a few hours.

"Someone you know?" said Jake noting the hand waves of recognition between the two wives.

"Yes, someone I met at the meeting. The one I told you I was going to the night before you left.

"You okay?" she said, hoping he was.

"It's relative," he said. "You're not with me, so it's very relative."

Right answer, she thought. "I know. I wish I were. I need you. It is very lonely without you. It's been only a little over a month, and already I am lonely as sin," she said."

"Tell me about it; it's very lonely without you too," he said.

"Jake, have they done anything to you? You know…"

"You mean am I some guy's bitch? We talked about this before when I was still in county. I don't want to burden you with my problems. I know you've got enough pressures out there without my adding mine," he said.

"Honey, I need to know." She paused, suddenly it was clear to her. "But then, I know already don't I. You would have denied it if nothing was happening. The one thing about you, Jake, that I could always depend on, was that you never lied to me, not once, not even about little things.

"You can't bring yourself to lie to me now, can you, so you dodge the question. Well, I have another one for you. Tell me, how bad is it? I want to know, Jake. I need to know."

"Maybe once or twice a week," he said. He was looking down when he said it. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

"Tell me?"

"Mostly oral," he said. "Sometimes…"

"They fuck you! Oh Jake, I will talk to our lawyer, the police, something has to be done to protect you. You don't deserve this. There has to be a way to stop it and to punish the bastards who are forcing you to do those things," she said, her eyes tearing up.

"Okay, okay, baby. Please don't cry. Now I feel Guilty," he said.

"Honey, you have no reason to feel… " Millie stopped cold and stared at him.

"Honey-Millie-?" he said.

"Guilty? Jake, you not telling me you let them-I mean you're not-you let them!" She screamed. A guard noticed and looked over at them. But, since nobody was hitting anybody he had no interest.

"Honey, it's not what you think, not at all," he said.

"Then what?" she sneered.

"I have a question for you. You're working now," he said.

"What in hell! What does that have to do with anything whatsoever!" she said. "Yes, I'm working for $8.50 an hour and no damn benefits. I started two weeks ago."

"Well, if you go to work every day. Guys are hitting on you sometimes. Aren't they?"

"And if they are? I can damn well assure you, mister, that I haven't let any of them push their pink little dickies up 'my' pretty little tokus. Well, at least so far!" she said about as sarcastically as she could.

The look on his face was-hurt-bad hurt.

She tried to recover. "Honey, I didn't mean…"

"No, you were right. I'm an asshole.

"Honey, Millie, I ain't givin' it up to the cons. It's a guard. He's protecting me. He's gay. We-we made a deal."

"My gawd!"

"It's…"

"Wait, you mean he, the guard, is the only one?"

"Yes. I ain't proud of it, but I had no choice. I mean it was him or a dozen bad guys. I am good looking, as you may have noticed," he said forcing a smile.

Millie was stunned. Stunned, but in a sense relieved. Her husband had been rational. She didn't much like what she was hearing, but at least he wasn't being passed around and maybe worse by some really nasty criminals. "Honey, I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't thinking. I don't know what to say. I-I know you have to do it, I guess. I'm not stupid. I guess, what I mean is that-anyway, do what you have to do. We won't speak of it again."

"Yes, we will. We have no secrets. We have no lies to cover up. It's you and me, dear heart, it always will be. I'm glad I told you; I needed to."

She took his hand and held it. "I love you."

"I love you too. My gawd! I do.

"Millie, what I am about to say will maybe shock you a little bit; like you haven't had enough of that already today." He got up and walked a few feet away, thinking.

Now, Millie was worried. "Jake, don't you…"

He turned back to her, "Honey listen to me. I need you to listen to me. Okay?"

She was silent but she was listening.

"I-I want you to let that guy, those guys who are hitting on you have you. I mean if you want."

"What the fuck!" Bits and pieces of what Jill had said flooded back into her consciousness.

"Honey, I know how hard it is for you…"

"You asshole!" she was mad, no, or was she. She had to think. Here, her husband was giving her at least part of what she was thinking about taking from him anyway. But, his beating her to the punch took some of the wind out of her sails.

"You deserve to be happy. I do not. I am an asshole, as you say; I'm the criminal. I need to know you're happy and fulfilled, and not just growing old being faithful to me. You know, me, the asshole. I deserve my punishment, that's why I'm here; you do not deserve to be punished at all, and certainly not because of me."

"But Jake-" Now she was crying; she felt guilty as hell. "I just don't know."

"Dear wife, you won't be betraying me. And when I get out, we'll be together again, and I will live for your happiness and serve you on my knees in every way that I can. If you do it, you'll just be making me your cuckold which I richly deserve for leaving you out there and almost defenseless. I am more than willing to be your cuckold husband. The prospect is actually a kind of a turn on: the mental images; I know that that sounds dumb.

"You know what a cuckold is, right?" he said.

"Yes. It's husband who knows that his wife is taking other men to her, letting them fuck her, and who agrees to it happening because it makes her happy, and maybe because he is, in kind of a perverted way, turned on by it," she said.

He was mildly surprised that she understood so well. "Were you already…"

"Thinking about doing it to you? No, not exactly. Jill, over there, is going to cuckold her husband, and she told me all about it. I hadn't made up my mind whether I was going to do that to you or not," she said.

"Well, okay then," he said. "Cuckolding me is far better than you going half crazy needing to get it and not. I may be a fool and a felon, but I am not rotten enough to ask you to wait ten years or even five to spread your legs again. Sex is something we both need. I don't deserve to get any, but you do."

"Now this whole thing, idea, is getting me hot. I think you're stark raving nuts, but the idea is hot," she said. "I think I am going to enjoy cuckolding your wimpy ass," she laughed. "I know I'm going to enjoy watching you squirm when I tell you about."

"Yeah, and when you come to visit me, you will tell me all about it, tease me. You know, share with me your experiences: all of the details," he said. "Now, that'll be hot! Pure torture for me but hot as hell."

They both laughed softly while holding each other's hand.

"Torture is exactly what it'll be cowboy, depend on it!

"Jake," she was being serious now. "What if-what if I do it and fall for some guy? I wouldn't try to, but you know…"

"It's a risk. I know it's a risk. But I am willing to risk it because I am pretty sure of my girl. I want you to have sex, not love, but sex. I want you to because you deserve it and I can't give it to you, not yet.

"Look, you always were a hot babe. You needed a good fucking when we met in high school, and I gave it to you. You've needed it these past seven years that we've been married-boy did you ever-and I gave it to you. I know you need it now, but someone else is going to have the thrill of doing you and not me. Just please don't cut me out of your life that's all I can ask," said Jake.

"Jake, I don't know. I'll think about it, Jake, but I don't know. It's scary; the whole thing is scary, crazy. I will say this. I will not cut you out of my life, no matter what. On that you may depend," she said. "But, I have a very strong feeling that things between us are going to be a whole lot different than either of us imagines. The only question is, will it be good different or bad different."

They talked for two hours straight. They covered everything. The last thing before she left was the kiss. It was hot. Millie needed a good fucking right then and there, and she would have raped her husband if she could have gotten away with it. But, she had to settle for a kiss. She and Jill were going to have a lot to talk about, a helluva lot.

The final siren sounded and the visitors started to gather up there things and begin to file out. She waved to him just as he disappeared back into the main prison block.

******

"They'll talk about us getting it from strange men for days," said Jill. "And about how today we looked, dressed, smelled, what we said, all of it; it's what will keep them grounded." She said referring to their husbands.

"Think so," said Millie.

"Oh yeah, I know so," said Jill.

"How did your man respond to the news; you haven't said?" said Millie.

"Accepting, he had no choice. He's going to be a cuckold and that's his reality, flat period."

"And?"

"After he got done peeing his pants and crying like a little baby, he decided it was best for us to let me make him a cuck," she said.

Millie looked at her friend with a new respect for her toughness. "Geezsus!"

"How about you? What did you talk about?"

Millie dodged the question as she made a turn onto the highway for the long stretch home.

"Same as you," she said finally.

Jill smiled inwardly; she had a new soulmate. "You know, you could make big bucks working for my pimp's escort company," said Jill. "It'd be safe and I can tell you it's a lot of fun if you're selective."

Millie laughed. "Not me, girl, I'm too shy."

******

Smiley's grocery was a small chain of grocery stores in the Valley. Millie was a checker in the newest, #6. The hours were good, the pay not so good, and the benefits non-existent. But it wasn't a bad job; it was better than playin' waitress and getting felt up by every cowboy in the Saddleback. The pay would have been a sight better there, adding in the tips, but she didn't need the harassment. Still, since Jake had told her it was okay to take on a lover, or even lovers, she was thinkin' she may have made a mistake in her choice of jobs.

Millie wondered how Jill was doing; she hadn't heard from her since the last visit to the prison.

******

"Millie?"

"Oh hi, Mr. Jacobs," she said, emerging from her reverie.

"Call me Sam," he said.

Sam Jacobs was the new night manager at #6 store. Short, good looking, a shade shy of fifty years old, and very friendly. He'd been hitting on Millie since he was hired by the owner Cal Johnson a month before. Millie had brushed him off, but now-no. He was a little bit too old for her, she thought.

"Right, Sam," she said and giggled.

"What were you day dreaming about?" he laughed.

"Nothing, I'm just unconscious today, I guess," she said.

"Hey, it's almost closing. Wanna get a drink, something to eat?" he said.

"Mr. Jacobs, you know I'm married," she said. She knew he knew, and she knew Jake was behind bars. Couldn't hurt, she thought.

"I know, but it's been a while since your husband; well, you know, went inside," he said. His attempt at tact was not successful; he could see he'd upset her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have the sense of s bull in a china shop sometimes. It must be hard for you."

She nodded.

"Oh heck, Millie, I'm sorry. I'm a complete idiot. Let me make it up to you. No funny business either, I promise," he said.

"I don't think…"

"Nonsense, I know you haven't had anything to eat today, and you gotta be hungry. I am too. So we'll eat, and it'll make me feel better making it up to you for upsetting you just now. Geezsus, what an idiot I am."

"Mr. Jacobs-Sam…"

"Your husband would object, right? I understand. It was just a thought. I am…"

"No, he wouldn't object?'

"Who wouldn't?"

"My husband, Jake. He wouldn't object to my having dinner with you. He told me I should get out and meet people," she said.

She knew she was playing with fire; he was one of the bosses. But, then again, a fiftyish guy might be able to give her what she needed, but with almost no threat of ever becoming a problem for her or Jake. Tom Cruise would be nice, but he'd definitely be a problem. No, Sam just might do, she told herself. Besides, she was hungry, starved in fact.

"Well, then let me introduce myself," he said laughing. "I'm Sam Jacobs, the new night manager. I'm handsome and real fun. Wanna give an old guy a chance?"

"Maybe," she said. "If you can keep your hands to yourself, like you said, no funny business."

"Call me Mr. Hands-off," he said.

They drove to a little Mexican place a couple of miles down the road from the store. It was singular in two respects: the place itself was the very definition of tacky and the food was first rate.

"Nice," said Millie as she took her seat in the booth next to her date.

"Well, not really unless you are into velvet wall pics of the Virgin Mary and wax grapevines hanging over the booth dividers," he laughed, "but the food is hard to beat."

She laughed with him. "Well, I hope you're right about the food," she said, "because I am starving."

The waitress came, took their food orders, and asked about their drinks.

"I'll have a margarita," said Sam.

"Me too," said Millie. "Funny you like margaritas, Sam, that's Jake's favorite drink when we eat Mexican."

"Really?"

"Yeah, kind of a small coincidence, but interesting," she said.

"I gotta ask," he said. "You said Jake said you should go out and meet people. That's pretty darn nice of him, I think. Not many husbands would be that-what-liberal."

"You don't know Jake. One: he's comfortable in his own ego. He doesn't think that there are many men who could make me want to leave him. And two: he's hedging his bets," she said.

"Huh?"

"You gotta know him. He's concerned that if he doesn't suggest it first: me going out with other men, that I might do it without his knowledge or permission. I mean if he is inside too long for me to stand it. I think I would be faithful to him no matter how long it was, or would have been, but who knows for sure; we're all human, and humans are weak sometimes. Anyway, I know him, and that is the way his mind works."

"I see. So, how do you look at it; I mean this dating thing. I mean since you do have his permission or agreement or whatever?" said Sam.

"I don't know. It does take the pressure off, I mean him saying it to me, but I haven't had a chance to think about it much. You know how it is. We work in the store long hours to make a few bucks, by the end of the day we ain't thinkin' too much about dating and stuff," she said.

"We do put in some long days. But you're pretty young aren't yuh?" he said. "What? Maybe twenty-five?"

"On the button," she said. "Jake's twenty-seven. If we're lucky, he'll be thirty-one when he gets out. We'd still be young enough to have a life. It'll be tough for a while, him bein' a con, but we'd make it somehow. Anyway that's the plan."

"Sounds like a good one. But, can I ask? What if he doesn't get paroled, Millie? What if he's in for his whole sentence."

"I don't want to think about that. I don't. Please don't mention it again, okay!"

"Yes, okay. For sure. I'm an idiot," he said.

The margaritas came, and they drank and ordered another round; the food came, and they ate and were stuffed; and then the band arrived for the 7:00 show.

Millie'd noticed, when she and Sam had first arrived, that the place had a small dance floor, well worn by the countless feet that had trod its wooden surface over the many years; but she had thought nothing of it at the time. Now, the band was playing slow, mellow background music.

"Like to dance, Millie," said Sam.

Millie looked him askance. "I don't know-oh, I guess so," she said.

He held her at a distance for a round or two on the floor then pulled her gently closer to him; she let him.

"You, okay," he asked.

"Yes, I'm okay." She allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. It was tentative, but it was definitely romantic, and she realized it. She had decided that he had been nice enough to her to let him fuck her. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized how much she needed a truly good screwing.

A pair of margaritas and a dance or two later they left.

"You can take me to your place," she said.

He looked at her without saying anything. He was not going to screw up his chances by saying something stupid. He'd already nearly blown his chances twice earlier in the evening. They drove in silence.

She took his hand as he led the way to his second floor apartment. "You'll have to give me a ride back to my car when you're done with me," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, "absolutely." He smiled his gratitude to her now. She saw it as gratitude at any rate. As well she might, he was a forty-eight year-old guy, as it had turned out, with dwindling prospects, and she was a twenty-something hot babe; and, proof that miracles did happen, she was going to let him fuck her. Sam hadn't gotten this lucky in one helluva long time.

In his apartment, he locked the door, turned on a dimmer light in the hallway and led her to the bedroom. They stood beside the bed while he kissed her and felt her buttocks with both hands: they were pretty sweet buttocks.

"Go slow big boy, I need this, but I need it my way. Okay?"

"You got it. You have my permission to kick me in the balls if I fail to please," he said too sincerely to be serious.

He felt her breast through the fabric of her blouse. He pushed her back a few inches and began unbuttoning her blouse and then unzipping her pants.

She was a bit sweaty and she had the musky odor of a woman who had worked all day without much in the way of downtime. But she also smelled like a woman, and few things on the third planet from the sun were as wonderful to Sam Jacobs as the smell of a woman in heat.

They were soon naked and Sam's finger was probing her pussy as he kissed her endlessly and with entirely too much passion, thought Millie, for what she had been thinking would be a one night stand at most. Whatever the reality, she let him do her his way for the moment: he was pleasing her.

He loomed above her. Her knees were splayed wide in surrender. He lowered himself and she felt his cock pushing at her, entering her sopping wet vagina.

Oh gawd! He was doing it to her; he was fucking her. She thought of Jake and tried to put him out of her mind. Sam was pounding her, slamming his pelvis repeatedly into her vulva, his cock driving deep inside of her. She yelped once or twice as he took her very hard. But then-she started to feel it building inside of her. She shuddered, she came, she relaxed and felt him finish and unload his semen into her. Millie felt good, and remarkably, not guilty.

She didn't feel guilty, but now she had to figure out how she was going to describe what had happened, to him, to her Jake; the prospect worried her.

They lay together, naked, for some time. Finally, Sam rolled off, and pulled on his pants; then, he stopped. "You can stay the night if you want. It would be great by me, I mean I really want you to be comfortable," he said.

"Thank you, Sam. You did me good," she said. "But I have to go home. I have all of my clothes there, and I have the early shift tomorrow."

"No problem," he said, and he continued dressing.

He drove her home. On the way there, all she could think about was visiting day five days hence.

She had to call Jill. They'd drive up together again. But, she wanted to talk to her before that. She had her cell. Millie was certain she wouldn't be at her local apartment. She was pretty sure her friend would be working in Nevada until the day before they left for the visit to the prison.

Chapter 2

"Hi… Yeah… I'd sure like to talk to you… Yeah, before we go upstate… I guess I am… Yes. Jake's a cuckold… fifteen minutes?… I thought you were in Nevada… a boyfriend… here… okay, then fifteen minutes." She hung up.

Millie answered the door. "It's good to see you," said Millie.

"Ditto," said Jill.

Millie poured each a glass of merlot, and they exchanged pleasantries and the usual milieu of the mundane.

"So tell me. You've gotten yourself good and fucked, is that right?" said Jill.

"Sure is. Kinda romantic too. Not a lot of imagination, but romantic," said Millie.

"You gonna tell Jake next week?" said Jill.

"Yes, he has a right to know. Anyway, it was his idea."

"Damn straight," said Jill.

"So, whaddya doing here?" said Millie, "I thought you'd be in Nevada until the day before we left to go up. What's this boyfriend stuff? Serious?"

"Well, that's right. I got me a boyfriend. He lives here, so I took some time off to come play a little bit."

"Sounds delicious," said Millie.

"Maybe, I'll let you know after we do it."

"So you haven't let him have you yet?" said Millie

"No, not yet. This one isn't for money, although I met him because of another guy that was for money. His friend, Jack, is doing me kinda regular." said Jill.

"Huh?" said Millie.

"They're business associates. Very rich, very married, and very nasty when it comes to sex," said Jill. "At least that's true of Jack who introduced us. I expect it's true of Andy too."

"Really. My guy is the night manager where I work. Very sweet, but like I say, not all that imaginative. He banged the hell outta me, but afterwards we cuddled for a while, and he let it go at that. Nothing wild. I coulda used a little bit of wild," said Millie.

"Well, if you want a little bit of wild, why don't you come with me tonight," said Jill.

"What? With you and your boyfriend?"

"Sure, but it won't be just him and me. It will be him and another friend of his: a different friend.

"The plan was for us three to all have dinner together; then, the friend would leave and go wherever he had to go, and Andy and I would spend the rest of the evening together. But, if you came along…"

"The friend would have a date for the evening too, and he, the friend, wouldn't have to cut country. Is that it?" said Millie.

"Yes. I'd have to clear it with Andy, but I'm pretty sure that it would be a no brainer," said Jill.

"Hmm, a blind date. I don't know," said Millie.

"I wouldn't be concerned about it being a blind date. One: these guys have money, big money, and they're real refined. And two: you could always just explain that you have to work tomorrow, and have to go home after dinner," said Jill, "I mean if the guy turns out to be a dud."

"Well, I guess in this case a blind date would be okay. I would like to meet a few more men anyway, and this sounds like it'll safe and maybe even interesting," said Millie. "Okay, make it a go. Call your Andy."

Jill spent the next few minutes on the phone. Hearing her describe her, made Millie blush.

"Jill, you've really gone overboard in your description of me," declared Millie, after Jill hung up. "I think I'm okay looking, but 'stunning,' 'dazzling,' you've come close to actually lying to the man," said Millie. She was smiling, but Jill could see she really did feel insecure at having heard herself described like she had.

"You underrate yourself," said Jill. "You really are a stunner. I meant it before when I said, that you could make a ton of money doing what I'm doing, even if your pimp did take a forty percent cut." Jill tipped back her wine glass. "Got another one of those," she said, holding her glass out for a refill."

"Absolutely."

******

She looked at herself in the full length mirror in her bedroom. She thought of Jake. If he could see her now his cock would be poking holes in his jeans. Her long brown hair tumbled about her shoulders. Her black spaghetti-strap sheath was short but not too short; it did leave something to the imagination. Her lips were painted red, and her eye makeup was just so. She was twenty-five and very sophisticated looking for her date, she thought to herself.

Sitting herself daintily on the edge of the bed, she slipped on her black four-inch spikes. Nature had built her but five-foot four-inches tall, but the spikes had the dual benefit of increasing that statistic and pushing her very pretty butt out to a tempting degree.

Her nylons were flesh colored and were the kind that needed no belts. Her panties and bra were sheer, black, and minimal. She was a tigress on the prowl; her prey would soon be arriving.

She sprayed on her favorite scent, the man killing kind she liked to think, and went into the kitchen for a glass of water.

Holding the glass in her hand and alternately sipping it and setting it down on the counter, She thought again of her husband in his six-foot by eight-foot cell. She wondered what he was thinking at that moment. Was he thinking of her, of her cuckolding him, as she very well might that evening? It was both a sad and exciting thought. Her poor man. But, he'd brought his punishment upon himself. Jill was right; she mustn't allow herself to be punished right along with him. She'd stand by him, in her fashion; she'd support him the best she could, but he alone had to atone for his crimes.

The limo arrived at a little after 7:00. Millie had just finished getting ready when a very handsome man in a suit that probably cost more than her car, knocked on the door.

He was tall, but not too tall, not as tall as her husband. His olive skin and wavy black hair were perfectly matched. He was of medium build and his hands were clearly not used to manual labor. He smelled good. Raymond was a promising blind date.

"Hi, I'm Raymond. "Not too early, I hope," he said.

"No, not at all," said Millie. "Would you like to come in?"

"Sure," he said. "We don't have to be at the club until 8:00."

"You are early then," laughed Millie trying to set him at ease. But, she realized, after she said it, that this man needed no help in that regard. He was very comfortable with who he was.

"So, you're a friend of Andy's?" said Millie.

"Certainement," he said in perfect French. "He's my bud," he said in perfect cowboy English. Not just in business either. We do everything together, have since high school."

The evening was getting off to a more than acceptable start, thought Millie.

They sat and talked, had tea, and soon it was 7:30 and time to go. He helped her with her coat, and held the door for her as they exited the house and got into the limo and headed for the club.

Raymond, said something in French to the driver, and they were on their way. Millie, who spoke no French, could not have known it, but Raymond had given the driver instructions to not arrive at the club until exactly 8:00, not a minute earlier nor a minute later. And so, they arrived at exactly 8:00.

Andy and Jill were already seated by the time Millie and Raymond arrived. The maitre d' took them immediately to their table.

"Hi yuh, Jill," said Millie, as Raymond pulled out her chair for her and seated himself next to her.

"Hi to you too," said Jill. "Right on time."

"I took the liberty of ordering champagne for all," said Andy. Everyone signaled their appreciation.

"So, Andy, I want to tell you, my friend, that you have outdone yourself tonight in convincing this beautiful lady here to favor us," said Raymond.

"The credit goes to my girl here," said Andy.

Jill laughed, "I am more than pleased to take the credit."

The champagne arrived. The small talk went on for some time. Finally, Raymond asked Millie if she would like to dance. She said she would. They did. And, they hit it off. He led her confidently and held her very close but did not offend her. He did have one little problem, she noted while they were dancing, his penis was erect and poking at the front of his pants. She felt it more than once press into her pubis, and it amused her: the universal signal of a man who was excited by the proximity of his female.

Andy and Jill continued to talk in subdued tones as their friends were on the dance floor.

"I learned from Andy something of your situation, said Raymond as they finished the dance and returned to the table. You and Jill have similar difficulties I guess. I mean in terms of your husbands," he said.

Millie was surprised that he would bring it up after so short a time knowing her, but she decided that he meant well. "Yes. It's kinda tough sometimes, but more so for my husband and for Jill's husband, Daniel," she said.

"I imagine," said Raymond.

They talked and laughed animatedly, until Jill rose, and taking Andy's hand, led him out the back door toward the rear parking lot. "We'll be back in a little while," said Jill. Her conspiratorial wink clued Millie as to her intentions.

Alone with her date, Millie felt a little bit nervous. But, it didn't show. He covered her hand gently in his on the table's surface. "You are indeed a very pretty woman," said Raymond. "I hope we can be good friends." His meaning was clear: he wanted to bed her, and she knew it. Now was the time that she could make her excuses vis-a?-vis work if she were going to make any.

"I'd like that," she said, not feeling as confident of her decision to stay and play as she sounded.

"I think our friends are having a little fun out back," said Raymond.

"I reckon they are," said Millie. She decided to stop wasting time. And, drawing courage from she knew not where, she jumped in with both feet. "Let's go out back, you know, to the limo," said Millie.

Raymond was surprised, good surprised, but surprised. "Wait; we'll go in a minute. I will send the driver home first, he said."

Millie sat and waited while Raymond made a cell phone call. He hung up. "Done," he said. He signaled their waitress.

"Can you keep an eye on our things," he said, not really asking a question as much as giving her polite instructions.

"Sure sir, not a problem," said the waitress with the name plate announcing her name as Wanda.

Leaving their drinks and their personal effects, the couple made their way out back. The limo was parked to the rear of the lot where the longer parking spaces were located.

At the door to the car, he pulled her to him. Holding her gently by each of her upper arms, he pulled her close and kissed her. Without another word he keyed the door and they got into the spacious backseat of the stretch.

Millie slid over to the far side and leaned back against the door and waited for him to close the door and settle in. It was cool in the limo, not cold, but cool: Millie could feel gooseflesh on her arms and legs.

He sat across from her and looked her his appreciation of her beauty. "You are stunning," he said.

"Thank you," she said simply. She felt confident with him. He was not intimidating her or mauling her. It was going to be a pleasure letting him fuck her. Having danced with him, she had a vague idea of the size of his penis, at the very least, she was certain, his cock would do.

He moved toward her and she smiled her encouragement.

He leaned in to kiss her and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. Their kisses were soft and then she probed his mouth with her tongue. He responded and she tasted wonderful to him.

She felt his hand slide down her arm and rest on her hip. She felt it begin to climb up the side of her torso and cup the bottom of her breast. She cooed in satisfaction. He began massaging her breast with some urgency. He stopped. He peeled her spaghetti straps off of her shoulders and very slowly pulled her dress down exposing her bra clad titties.

He reached behind her and unhooked her dress and pulled the zipper down sending a chill through her. He expertly loosed the front hook of her bra and her breasts spilled out pale and vulnerable to him. He leaned in and kissed them. He began to suckle at them. She leaned back and sighed the sigh of a satisfied woman as he continued to adore her.

She let her hand fall to the front of his pants and feel the hardness that was growing there. Yes, he would do, she assured herself. She pushed him away a little and began undoing his belt. That done she unbuttoned his pants and began slowly sliding his zipper south. His underpants were tented obscenely and she felt his pole through the fabric and smiled up at him and kissed his penis through the material.

He lifted up so that she could pull his pants down followed by his underpants. He was naked from the waist down, she, from the waist up.

She hoisted herself and slid her dress off. Only her panties protected her honor at that moment. He almost ripped them from her in his haste to see her most secret places. She was naked. He spent four-point-five seconds getting the rest of his clothing off. He kissed her, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth and glorying in the taste and smell of her.

Again, she pushed him back and leaned forward seizing his cock in the process. She stroked it a few times and leaned into it and let it slip between her lips. She sucked him for some minutes until he began jerking and shuddering; she stopped.

"I want you in me," she said. "Fuck me nice, okay. Please fuck me nice. I want to cum. I want to cum really bad."

He made her kneel on the spacious floor of the limo, her elbows resting on the rearmost seat. He forced her head down. Her buttocks were high in the air and almost even with his chest. He spread her ass cheeks and licked and sucked at her anus; she tasted oh so female. For her part, Millie was alternately shaking and jerking as he did her.

Next in line for his attentions was her pussy and especially her clit. He sucked and licked it with the same abandon that he had done her anus.

She felt him press down on her lower back, silently signaling her to lower her pussy for her fucking. He was going to take her from behind. She looked back at him as he positioned his maybe six-inch cock to penetrate her. She relaxed and let him conquer her; that was the woman's part, she thought at the moment: to submit to her man and let him screw her till he exploded inside of her; she prayed that he'd let her cum too.

He fucked her for what seemed a long time. She felt him speed up his thrusting and as he did so, she felt the familiar flood of orgasm engulf her and send spasms of pleasure through her body. She stiffened for a moment as she felt his heat inside of her. He seemed to be cumming for minutes, but in actuality it must have been for no more than twenty seconds, a long time even so. He wrapped his arms tightly around her torso and squeezed her to the point of crushing her with his arm strength as he forced every last nuance of semen from his ball sac.

They collapsed in an irregular heap on the floor of the limo. "Wonderful," he said.

"Yes," echoed his she.

As she lay sprawled on the floor, he straightened her body and pushed her legs gently apart. He knelt between her splayed legs and pushed his face into her sopping slit. He lapped at her cum filled pussy for a long time. "Oh my," she said. "Yes-yes-yes-yes! She came again and again as he sucked and licked her clean of his nectar and hers.

Finally they lay still.

Two cars away, a similar scenario had been occurring between Jill and her man. Andy couldn't get enough of her. He continued suckling at her breasts even after he had come twice and she twice that many. "You are indeed a tit man aren't you, Andy, just as you said," said Jill.

"Oh, yeah," said Andy. "And your tits are very special, Jill, I mean that."

She smiled at him and pulled him close, almost mothering him. He'd been a good fuck tonight, she thought.

The two couples were reunited and clearly sated as they went back inside to attend to their need for food and drink.

The two women, no less than the two men, would have a lot to talk about on the morrow.

******

It was raining, so the benevolent powers of the state penal system allowed that the wives and family members of their incarcerated relatives could visit them in the dining halls and indoor gym areas of the prison. The rains had reduced the number of visitors significantly, which doubtless left a lot of the inmates in a restless and psychologically unsettled state.

Millie was waiting, and anxiously waiting at that, for her husband. He was ten minutes late due to the change in visiting venues, but at length she saw him pour through the double doors to her right with a number of other gallants rushing to meet their significant others that had come.

Jill caught up with her Daniel at the same time Millie and her man did

Millie waved to Jake and he responded with a quickened step.

"Hi handsome," she said. "Are you okay, everything okay?" She glanced over at Jill who smiled at her as Daniel who was leading her to a couple of nearby folding chairs.

"It is now," said Jake. "You make everything okay." They decided to walk and talk rather than sit.

"So what's new?" he said.

Millie was silent for what seemed like a long minute before responding.

"Jake-I-I got myself good and fucked some days ago. Remember, you said I could," she hastened to add.

For a moment he stood there apparently stunned by her announcement. He was clearly shaken and trying to get his bearings.

"Jake?"

"It's okay," he said. "You just caught me off guard." He seemed to be searching for the right words. "Was it good for you? Tell me. Tell me all about it."

"Yes, it was good, I guess. Yes," she said with finality. "Sam, that's his name, took me to dinner and to his apartment afterward. He stripped me and screwed me. It was good. I needed it. Thank you for letting me," she said. "You're definitely my cuckold now," she said, smiling like a possum.

Millie had intended to tell him about her date with Raymond, Daniel's friend, too, but decided not to. Jake seemed okay with her initial announcement, about her date with Sam, but something wasn't quite right about his tone.

"You are very welcome," he said. Inside of him he was in turmoil, but he was determined to not blow it with her. "You gonna see him again? What's his name, again?"

"His name's Sam.

"I see him almost every day; I work with him. But, you're asking if I am going to let him into my pants again. Yes, probably," she said. "He treated me with respect and tried to make sure I got off."

"Good. I'm glad for you," said Jake. "I just wish it was me. I sure do miss you."

"I know honey. It won't be forever. Maybe one of these days we can use the trailer. It ain't much, but it's something. Better than nothing," she added.

He nodded. "Yeah, better than nothing. Honey-I really am happy for you. You need a little bit of sexual release. Just try and save a bit of you for me, for the day when I get out," he said.

"I will dear heart. Just hang in there. Next time I come you're gonna get to fuck me too; I want you too in the worst way, I need you inside of me," she said.

******

The ride back for the two women would prove to be a watershed in their relationship. As much as their husbands needed them and their support; they, the wives, needed each other.

"Yes and no. I told him about Sam, but not about Raymond; it wasn't the right time."

"Girl, you have to get to the place where you are in the driver's seat in your marriage. Jake has to learn that you're the boss, and love him though you do; he has made his bed and now he has to accept the consequences," said Jill.

"Yes, but he looked so forlorn when I mentioned Sam that I just couldn't bring myself to lay another shock on him," said Millie.

"Yeah, I guess I can understand that. It is a lot for man, when he's a prisoner and powerless, to hear too much bad news all at once from his woman. Yes, I can understand that. What you need to do is to try to get him to be your partner in the whole thing. Help him to better accept and to enjoy his cuckoldhood," said Millie.

"Yeah, well that sounds good, now if I can just figure a way to actually accomplish it," said Millie.

"You are going to try though aren't you?" said Jill.

Millie thought for a moment. There was no point in denying it, not to this woman. "Yes, I think so. I am just not sure how," she said finally.

"We'll put our heads together and figure it out," said Jill.

"You know, I am going to take you up on that, Jill, I could use a little guidance in this stuff. And you being-"

"Yes, I know, a whore," said Jill. "Well, it is the oldest profession. We've been around longer than even lawyers and politicians, and we're a whole lot more honest than they are." She laughed at her own characterizations. "I remember something that Ronald Reagan once said, 'It has been said that politics is the second oldest profession. I have learned that it bears a striking resemblance to the first.'" Jill broke up laughing.

"I didn't mean…"

"No, that's all right. I've said before that I am proud of what I do. I do it very well. Anyway, let me say again, if all you want is to fuck and suck, I can get you a job that pays you pretty good to do it," said Jill.

"No, I don't think so. I'm not quite to the point where I could feel good about doing it for cash," said Millie.

"Well, you know my number."

They drove in silence for a while before stopping at the same diner they had on the way up.

******

Two weeks later Sam got a raise. He was one happy fella, and he knew someone with whom he was very interested in sharing the feeling-Millie.

"Got a minute," he said, as he watched her punch out for lunch.

"Sure, Sam, whatcha got?" she said, smiling broadly.

"Well, you heard I got a raise today. Probably gonna get the new store, #7, when it opens in a few months," he said.

"That's great, Sam. I'm glad for you. Wish it was me," she laughed.

"Well, you know I don't have a wife to celebrate with, not since she left me last year. I was thinkin' maybe you'd be interested in tilting a few with me, maybe having a bite to eat too," he said. "Been wantin' to talk to you since our last meal together. I mean if you're up for it," he said.

She looked at him. She wondered how a fifty year-old man could be so shy. "Sure, I'd be happy to," she said, "when?"

"You get off at six. Why don't you go home and freshen up or whatever, and I'll pick you up at say 7:30," he said.

"Okay, sounds good. I'll be waitin' on yuh," she said.

She decided to dress for the occasion. She was under no illusions. This new man of hers would definitely want to celebrate: a few drinks, some good food, and her for dessert. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror at the prospect."

"You do look pretty," she said to that same reflection.

He was seven minutes early. Things were looking good.

"When will you be seeing Jake again?" said Sam, as they drove to Gilberto's, an 'A' list bistro in town.

"Another week and half," she said. "Sam, I need to tell you. I told him about you doing me."

He felt nervous and giddy hearing her words. "Oh my," he said."

"No, he was okay with it. I think it kinda bothered him a little, but he was cool about it."

"But-what if we…"

"Do it again? He'd be okay with it. He wants me to be happy, but to definitely not fall in love with someone else. Sex is one thing, he told me, but the love thing is for him and me. Do you think you can accept that kind of an arrangement, Sam? I need to know."

Sam Jacobs had never felt more conflicted than at that moment. The short answer to her question was yes. But the truthful answer was a definite, I don't know. Sam had gone to bed few nights, since their first sexual encounter without thinking of her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her. "Yes, sure I can," he said.

Millie watched him when he said it. He was clearly lying. She knew she should have had him take her home right then and there. But the thought of Sam being in love with her, intrigued her-she felt tingly and good: he was a nice man with a steady job and good prospects; a girl could do a lot worse than Sam Jacobs. "Good, I'd hoped you'd say that," she said.

The sex between the two that night, was comfortable rather than explosive, but part of that was because she couldn't get the thought out of her mind that Jake would one day be back, and she couldn't allow herself to fall in love with anyone else, not even Sam.

Sam was a happy soul. More, he was a happy soul who was beginning to think he could take home first prize. He knew it was going to be difficult wooing the object of his affections, but he was very much up for the trying.

******

She'd set herself down at "their" table. She'd visited the medium security prison now some fifteen times, she and Jill, or was it sixteen; and each and every one of those times they had used the very same table. An odd thing to think of as one's own: a table in the prison yard of the place where her husband was an inmate, she snickered inwardly at the thought.

"Hi honey," he said. "Come on." He took her by the hand and led her down a narrow path to a nearby gate.

She'd grabbed her little bag and quick stepped after him almost stumbling as she caught up to his stride. "Where are we going?" she said.

"We got a trailer."

"Oh."

We haven't done it since that one time last year," he said.

They moved quickly and in silence. They could talk when they got there.

The white, twenty-some foot, fiberglass box was unlocked. He hung a red do-not-disturb sign on the door handle and pulled her inside.

"Gawd! how I've missed you," he said. "You know, I understand how you feel about this thing," his hand swept around indicating the tacky trailer husbands and wives were allowed to fuck each other in. "It's a complete turn off for the wives, but I just had to have you today. Was it okay for me to arrange this? I mean if…"

"Me too," she said. "Of course it's okay. I don't like the damn thing, but I do want you, and I was thinking along the same lines today."

He began unbuttoning her blouse, and she let him. "Slow down tiger and enjoy," she said. "How much time do we have?"

"Four hours, babe; and I wish it were four years."

She was naked and she began undressing him. Her mid-sized boobs bouncing as she manipulated the buttons and zippers that held his flesh prisoner.

They stood and looked at each other's naked bodies for a full two minutes without moving.

"Geezsus, you're beautiful," he said. "So damn incredibly fucking beautiful!"

"You look pretty good too, mister," she said.

They embraced. They kissed. They kissed a hundred times. They were rediscovering each other, and they loved what they found.

Jake had wanted to never use the trailers either; there was just something about them that he considered-dirty, beneath him, and certainly beneath his Millie. But, with her on the outside fucking others, and him getting hornier daily; the trailers had come to look like the least of any number of evils.

She slid to her knees in front of him and took his cock in her small hands. He noticed she wasn't wearing her wedding band. He said nothing, but it hurt him.

She took his cock in both hands now, and pulled it to her face. She kissed the tip. She took it into her mouth and slowly slid her mouth over it covering half its seven inch length; it was as much as she was ever able to get into her tiny mouth. He sighed.

He erupted into her mouth; she choked a little and then swallowed his semen voraciously. She loved his cum, always had. When Jake and she had first married; it had been her symbol of her submission to him as her husband and provider. Later, as he continued to take risks and get into trouble it had become just another sex act, but still a favorite one of his, and of hers too if the truth were told.

He pulled her up and slid his body down tasting her sopping pussy and her inner thighs; it was his turn. She jerked and twisted as he tickled her with his tongue. Jake knew just how to push her buttons and he was pushing them all today. He buried one of his fingers in her anus as he licked and sucked on her pussy and clit; she wiggled to skewer herself on its length; she loved having him violate her butt.

She jerked and twisted herself through two orgasms before he stood and gently laid her down on the mid-sized bed that the state provided for its long term residents. The sheets were clean, at least, she thought to herself.

He lay on top of her, and she felt very female and wifely as he mastered every nuance of her body. Soon he was poking at her; he was like he had been that first time under the lemon tree in her parent's backyard. They'd both had learned about each other that afternoon.

He entered her, and wrapped his arms tightly around her, denying her any voluntary movement of her own. She felt him hammer her labia. He grunted like male animals grunt when they take their shes and mate with them. She adored him for being a real man. But…

In her next thought, she questioned his manhood. What kind of a man would encourage his woman to let another male fuck her? She knew his reasoning, but would he have been better served to have been possessive rather than calculating in terms of her, his wife? Anyway, for the moment it was all water under the bridge; there would be a time for them to iron out their issues. Nevertheless, all said and done; he was her cuckold and that several times over!

******

For some months following the second afternoon in the trailer, Millie and Jill visited their husbands together. Neither Millie nor Jake mentioned using the trailers again. The two times they had used them turned out to be singular relief episodes for the both of them.

Such was not the case for Jill. She and her husband used the trailers and the state's hospitality at every opportunity. She was a fuck bunny, and her husband was her happy and devoted cuckold slave.

Jake was nearing the end of his second year in the pen when political influences and happenings caused a major shift in the status quo of their lives. At the same time Millie was becoming ever closer to and reliant on Sam. They now kept each other's company regularly, dating two and three nights a week as a matter of course, these in comparison to the once monthly afternoon visitations she was able to have with her husband. The news, that threatened to complicate their routine, came suddenly and from Jake.

She was sitting patiently at "their" table waiting for him. It was a nice day near the end of May. It was warm, clear and still. She saw him walking toward her, and he was smiling. She smiled back.

"Hi, most beautiful girl in the world," he said.

"Wow! You're happy today," she said. "What's going on? You inherit money or something?"

"No, better than that," he said. "I'm getting out. Millie, we can finally be together again. I have been living and breathing for this day for two years. Millie, I'm going to be free!" He picked her up and swung her around.

"Whoa, sailor. Tell me, what are you talking about? Your parole isn't coming up for another two years, I thought." She straightened her dress as he put her down.

"Old news," he said, "stuff came up in the capitol. The State Supreme Court says these places are too full, and they have to provide either more prisons or let some of the inmates go. They don't have the money for more prisons, so some of the lower profile inmates are being paroled to their wives or family members if they are not married. There are conditions though, and they have yet to be worked out, but the bottom line is that I am out of this hell hole by next week!"

Millie sat stock still. "By next week? Why that's-wonderful-honey," she said.

She said it, but she immediately realized the possible problems that would soon be looming. The problems would revolve around how she would handle telling Sam that things were about to get complicated.

Sam was not just a fuck buddy; he was a true lover, and someone she was not anxious to hurt. The truth was that on some level, she had come to love him. She loved him as much, she now realized, as she did her husband. This was not going to be easy. She needed time, and it looked like that that was the one commodity that she was not going to have much of.

Add to the problem with Sam, that she had had more than one liaison with other men that Jill had set her up with over the period and that her husband new little or nothing about! She was going to have to come up with a whole new set of rules and regulations for herself and for the men who were competing for her affections.

"Honey?"

"Oh, you just surprised me," she said smiling broadly.

"Honey, we don't tell each other fibs; that's the one real no-no between us. You said so yourself. I mean-you do want me to get out, don't you?"

"Honey, of course I do! What a question. But…"

"But what? Wait a minute. It's that guy isn't it! Have you told me everything, mother-in-law. Be honest. I can take it-well, maybe I can."

"Yes, everything. Everytime he's fucked me you've gotten the whole lowdown. You're a cuckold right enough, believe it, cuckolded as hell." she said.

"But, there's something else isn't there?"

"Jake, I love you. I also love Sam. I'm not telling him to get lost. I can't. He's been too good to me. I wanna keep you both. I'm telling you that, and I'm gonna be telling him the same thing. I hate to say this, Jake. I know I said I would try to keep love out of it, but I do love Sam too. I also remember telling you that I didn't know for sure if I could keep love out it. I remember telling you that I was scared."

"Yeah, you did say that; I remember. But you're still going to keep me around, right. I mean not just because I'm probably going to be paroled to you, but because you love me, right?"

"Of course, darling. It's just that I love two of you now, I hope you can understand that. Gawd! I know how hard it is going to be for a proud man like you. For that I am very sorry, dear," she said.

"I do understand. He's been around while I've been; well, not around. It's just I don't know how I am going to be able to deal with it, you know, mentally," he said. "But, I will deal with it, I promise you."

"You'll have to, darling. I mean it. This is what's come of you being convicted and sent to prison. It would never have happened except for that. So in a way, it's part of your punishment. I really, really hope you can understand.

"And, of course I will accept being responsible for you while you are on parole. You say there are conditions? When will I know what they are? Do you know?"

"No, but they will be sending you a letter to attend some kind of an orientation. At least that's what my cellmate Jonas told me."

"Okay then, next week. Honey, I can't wait! I will have a nice surprise for you when you get home," she said, a very nice surprise.

******

"You say Jake's okay with us?" said Sam.

"Hmm, yes. He'd rather have exclusive rights, but he will deal with it; he understands that he has no choice.

"How about you, Sam. Can you handle it? I mean you say you can, but are you sure. I can't kick my husband out, not now, not after all we've been through," she said.

"Yes, I guess. I mean I feel lucky just to have you part time," he said. "You'll have no problem with me.

"Can I say one thing though?" he said.

"Sure, honey, what is it?" she said.

"Well, over these many months you've told me a lot about your husband. I know you say he's a very gentle soul with you, but what about guys who hang around you? I mean, if he's as tough as you say-"

She smiled indulgently at him. "I'll take care of Jake. He's my man. I can handle him. He won't be messin' with you unless you tried to hurt me; then, it wouldn't be a good idea to be around. But, if you're as gentle a soul, as you always are; he would never think to hurt you, really," she said.

Sam didn't feel all that convinced, but he accepted her at her word. It was going to a real interesting next couple of weeks regardless, he thought.

******

Millie sat at the table across from her friend. The darkened cafe? was cool and quiet at four in the afternoon.

"Tomorrow's the day. Are you anxious?" said Millie.

"Yes, I am," said Jill. "I'm a little concerned about the boys, yours and mine. They're likely to be a bit rambunctious for a while. That and the fact that they can't go anywhere except to work for the next two years is not going to make house sitting them much fun, I have a feeling," said Jill.

"Yeah, I know. I have the same feeling. We have to be very strict with them. I mean very strict, or they'll take the same kinds of chances they did that got them in the joint in the first place. Our guys are guilty mostly of bad choices, and I do not want to be doing any more visiting at Chico State under any circumstances." said Millie.

"You figured out how you're going to handle Jake when you go on dates?" said Jill.

"No, and I'm worried. I don't trust him just to sit home and behave himself," said Millie. "How about you? Got any ideas?"

"I'm gonna lock him up. He knows he's a cuckold. My slave really. He will do what I say and I say he is going to be locked up each and every time I go out," said Jill.

"Lock him up! You mean send him back to jail. How is that possible? Will the cops…"

"No-no, it's not like that. Nothing to do with the law. I bought a kennel. It's made for a big dog. I am going to lock him in it every time I have a date or need to be away for a while, or, bring someone home with me," said Jill.

Millie stood there dumbfounded. "Huh? That sounds awfully cruel, Jill. I mean he's been living in a cage for so long…"

"It'll only be for a number of hours each time, not for years," said Jill. "I have to do it. I know he can't be trusted to behave, so I have to make sure he does-flat period."

"Still, a dog kennel!"

"It's the only way. I guess I could chain him up to something, but the kennel is best. It's safe; he can't escape. And, it'll be humiliating for him. And frankly, he needs a good dose of humiliation to bring him down of his high horse," said Jill.

They talked for an hour. At the end of the word fest, Millie was pretty much converted. She was going to consider getting a kennel for her man. The thought was both scary and delicious.

******

She waited in the car for some little time for him to come out. She watched the gate and kept checking her watch expecting him any minute. Finally she saw him. She got out, and ran to him.

"Oh, honey, it is so good to have you back," she said. She wrapped herself around him. He hugged her close and kissed her so hard she thought he might have bruised lips.

"Not nearly as much as I am glad to be back," he said. They got in the car and she drove.

"How do you feel," she said looking at him.

"Like I can breathe," he said, "like I can breathe!"

An hour down the road he asked her to stop at the roadside diner; it was the one Jill and she favored each time they had made the trip. He wanted a real hamburger and fries: prison fare wasn't much, and he'd been dreaming about real food most of the two years past.

Millie was glad for the break. She wanted to talk to him before they got home. The restaurant would be a good place to begin the conversation.

The food came and he was wolfing his down. For her part she was picking at hers. "I met with the parole guy yesterday," she said.

"Yeah, I heard that a lot of the wives did," he said.

"You got the conditions? I mean the written out ones," he said. "We were told some stuff, but it is you wives that have all of the rights and regs is what I heard."

"Yes. They're pretty strict, Jake. For the next year and a half, maybe two years, you cannot leave the house except to go to work and come home. Think you can handle that?"

"Are you kidding. For the past two years I have spent most of my non-working hours in a six-foot by eight-foot cell with another guy. This will be a piece of cake," he said.

"Maybe," she said.

"Maybe?"

"Well, when I go out, I mean with a man; and I will from time to time, you won't be able to come, and I can see you being pretty upset about that at some point. Maybe not right away, but down the line a bit. You see what I mean?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. But, I'll get the hang of it. I know I can do it. I came out of the joint in one piece, I guess I can do another twenty-four months with you holding the leash," he said.

"Jake, you know I love you, right?" she said.

"Sure, honey."

"You also know that you're my cuckold, right? I mean you have no say in my sex life anymore. I don't know how to say it any more gently than that."

He nodded. His demeanor was so humble that it gave her chills, the good kind.

"Now, I have to say this, dear, and you need to listen. From now on, I am the boss in our household. And, I mean forever, I mean if you want to stay with me. Not just for the next twenty-four months."

He knitted his brow paying attention to her.

"Over these past two years I have learned to fend for myself. I have taken a lover. I have even had liaisons apart from him. I haven't really said much about them to you, because they have been mostly one night stands and didn't really mean anything; but they have been fun for me, and frankly, I don't want to stop having them. Are you okay with all of this so far, my husband?"

"Huh?"

"I'm saying, Jake that I have let a number of men fuck me, and I liked it and I intend to keep doing it. Every once in a while you'll get to fuck me too, but it won't be like before where the main thing was you getting off. It'll be the diametrical opposite from now on, Jake. It's the way it has to be. Can you deal with that?"

He hesitated, not knowing how to answer, but finally he said, "Yes ma'am."

"Okay, so far so good. Jake, I want you to be a good husband to me. There will be no divorce or anything like that, but the faithful part will be mostly you being faithful to me, not me being faithful to you; I mean in terms of sex. From time to time I may bring a man home. I may require you to serve us. You know, like a good little cuckold husband. Can you deal with that too, dear? I've done the research; and you need to realize that I will be controlling your sex life as well as my own."

"I don't understand," he said.

"Well for this relationship to work you need to be horny most of the time, so I will let you cum a couple of times a month, even fuck me sometimes, but that will be about it," she said.

"But, mother-in-law-"

"There will be no buts, dear. It's the way it's going to be. There will be other things too, but a little at a time for now," she said

He was confused, but he wasn't confused about one thing: he was now completely under the thumb of his hot wife, one he was not sure he even knew. She sure wasn't the wife he remembered from two years before, not close. But, there was something else; he was for no good reason at all, totally and inexplicably excited!

Chapter 3

For the first few days after his arrival home, Jake was not a problem: he slept. He slept ten hours a day. The rest of the time, the time he didn't spend in the sack; he ate, watched cable TV-that Millie had just gotten hooked up the week before; and at night, before he slept, he fucked his wife into insensibility for a good hour. Well, a man who had had virtually no real sex for two years is more than likely to have a monster libido.

Millie had felt sorry for her husband, so for the first week, she had explained to Jill, she was going to pamper him. Not spoil him, she'd lower the boom after that amount of time, but until the week was up, she was going to sate his appetites and cater to his needs. The week was going to be up tomorrow.

The bistro was called The Horn. Passersby had no problem with the name of the place: the neon sign that topped the entrance featured a medieval page blowing; you guessed it, a horn. But the regulars knew that the name represented something else entirely: an essential part of the male anatomy.

The name of the place or the implications that might be drawn from various wild inferences related to the name of the place, were not the reasons that it had become the hangout for Millie and Jill and their entourage. The reason was the food, the drink, and the service. It was good and the place sported a certain quiet ambiance that suited them. Well, it was quiet except for Friday and Saturday nights: those were the pickup nights, and the origin for the more colorful definition of the place's name.

"So tomorrow you sit him down," said Jill.

"Yes," said Millie. "It's time. I think he understands his position and his limits. I do love him. I will always love him. But, I am not going to live my life in his shadow, nor any man's. So if he wants to remain married to me, and I know he does, it's going to be by my rules. Rules I might add that are carbon copies of yours, Jill."

"Go girl," said Jill. "Sock it to him." She laughed out loud.

Millie looked horrified. "Jill!"

"Oh girl, I am only joshin' yuh," she said. "Jake is one lucky cat to have you. I know a lot of women who would have fucked him over good for less than what he did to you. But, you stood by him, protected him, defended him. Now, your relationship will move to a new level, and I am betting that he will never spend another night in the can or steal another car or do anything worse than burn the casserole."

"Damn straight," said Millie. "Say, where the heck are Sam and Andy? They were 'sposed to be here an hour ago."

"To your right coming in the door," said Jill.

"Where the heck have you guys been?" said Millie.

"Peeved are we," said Sam. "Well, I've been deprived of the company of the woman I most care for all week, so I'm a little peeved too. She'd said something about a husband or something, I'm not sure." Sam laughed and looked directly at Millie when he did it.

"Careful, big boy, I might have to punish you." She smiled when she said that, but he knew she was more than capable of delivering a stinging switch to the bottom if provoked. It was one of her kinkier fetishes these days; something she had picked up from Jill. He was certain her friend, the wicked witch of the west, was the one who had sicced her on him.

"Don't whine, Sam," said Jill. "You know that Millie had to spend time with her man. Hang loose and behave; you'll get yours."

"We still on for tomorrow night, mother-in-law," said Sam ignoring Jill.

"Is anybody gonna order a drink around here. I need a drink," said Andy.

"Yes, Sam we're on. Pick me up at 8:00."

"Got it," he responded.

******

Jake was pacing back and forth. His wife had gone out and left him for the first time. He couldn't complain; she'd been great to him all week. It had been just like he'd dreamed for two full years. If he died tomorrow, he thought to himself, he'd be content. But all of that begged the point that she wasn't with him now.

He also knew that tomorrow was discussion day. Discussion day was a euphemism for having the law laid down for him. Laws he'd have to obey. Millie was a changed woman; she was not to be trifled with.

She sure was exciting too in her new persona. He had to admit that he liked the new her.

Except for the sex, life in the house was becoming a bore. It was a whole lot better than the joint, but it was still boring. He had to figure out something to keep him engaged when he wasn't on the job. Well, at least he'd' already gotten a job, but he didn't start till Monday, this was Friday. He was going to be a mechanic.

******

The four of them were talking animatedly: the first round of drinks was history.

"How's Danny taking it, you know adjusting?" said Millie.

"Good. About like Jake I suppose," said Jill. "He isn't going to like me going out all of the time like we do, but he knows that he has no say. I have come home and found him masturbating in the bedroom twice now, and he's only been out a week. How strange is that? I mean he has me, the best pussy he'll ever get to push his cock into, and he's masturbating! I tell yuh, Millie, if I wasn't such a nice person, I'd kick his black ass out in a New York minute! And I ain't shittin' yuh. But, being the military genius that I absolutely am, I had an idea."

"Do tell," said Millie. "This I gotta hear."

"Well…"

******

Millie arrived home at about 2:00AM. Jake met her at the door. He had the expectant look of a puppy whose owner was finally home to supply the affection that was naturally its due.

"Hi Honey," said Jake. "Did you have fun with your friends?"

"Yes, thank you Jake," she said. "Have you done anything today? Are you okay?"

"No, not much, but yes, I'm fine," he said. "I know what you were saying about it getting boring. It is, at least when you're not here."

She smiled at him. "I think we are going to have to sit down tomorrow," she said, "and straighten you out a little bit. It's getting to be time."

"I know. I'm not going to like it much am I?" he said.

"Hmm, maybe," she said. "In the long run it's for your own good and for your own happiness if it comes to that," she said.

"Oh, well good," he said, a tad of sarcasm seeping into his voice.

She arched an eyebrow in his direction. "Be nice. I love you, but I am the boss. We've talked about this, remember, in the prison just a couple of weeks ago."

He nodded. "I know. It just takes a bit of getting used to, I mean my wife being my warden," he said.

"Are you going to be here tonight?" he said.

"No, I have to work. "And, don't forget, you are starting work at the shop next Monday. Jimmy needs a good mechanic, and if you know anything it's cars," she said.

"Yeah, I guess. I wish I were more into the work thing. I think that's going to be boring too. Boring's not good for me," he said.

"Well, I am going to do a couple of things to get rid of most of the 'boring' in your life beginning tomorrow," she said.

"Why does that scare me," he laughed.

"Hmm, don't know, but I mean what I say," she said.

The sex that night was limited to him eating her out. He loved doing it, his good luck; but he'd like to have been able to fuck her too. But she was too tired having worked the three to midnight shift at the market.

They slept hard. It was good Jake got another good night's sleep; there were gonna be a lot of sleepless nights in his future.

******

He came down for breakfast. He could smell the French toast, his favorite, from the bathroom in the back of the house.

"Mornin'," said Jake, plopping down in his usual chair at the kitchen table.

"Good morning to you, mister," said Millie. She shoveled two slices of the fried delicacy onto a plate and delivered it in front of him at the table. While he spread the butter and poured the syrup, she went to the coffee maker and poured him his daily ration of java.

"Thanks a million, dear wife, I was hungry," he said as he raised the piping cup to his lips for that most wonderful first taste of morning coffee. "Ah."

She watched him relish his breakfast. "I'll be home by 5:30 today," she said. "We'll talk then, okay?"

He looked up at her, slowed his chewing and nodded. He well knew it was going to be weird. He was at odds with himself in trying to decide whether he was more concerned or more excited about the talk that they would have.

Although Millie did not know it, or even at this point really even suspect it; he was glad she was taking the reins in the family; he was glad she was his warden; he was determined to obey her in all respects. That she might overdo it was his only concern. That she might at some point leave him, even though she had assured him she never would, was his most gut wrenching fear. He'd rather spend the rest of his life in prison than never be able to see her again; nothing could hurt so much as that.

They talked about everything as they ate. "I love you," she said finally, as she got up to finish dressing and leave for work. She was scheduled 8:00 to 5:00.

******

The day passed slowly for Jake. Finally, he heard the car pull into the driveway. He glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall; she was home.

She came in and heaved a giant sigh. "Long day," she said aloud to her husband as she settled into a chair at the table and waved hello to him. He was leaning against the counter ten feet away.

She was still in her work clothes. Jake looked at her and wondered how many times she was hit on during a given day; had to be a lot, he thought.

"Can I get you something." said Jake.

"Well, it's five o'clock somewhere, as the song says. Oh, it's five o'clock here! How Jolly is that. I could use a glass of wine if you wouldn't mind."

"Mind? Like there's some chance of that," he said smirking. He went to the crystal decanter and poured her a glass of her favorite dago-red.

"Get yourself something if you like, Jake, please. Then, come sit here with me," she said.

He considered it. He opened the fridge and caught a bottle of Lite and sat down across from her.

"Before I start, Jake, is there anything you'd like to say, tell me. Is anything bothering you, you know, that I should know about?"

"I guess-I'd just like to say that I love you. And-"

"And?"

"And, I just don't want you to leave me. No matter what. I'll do anything you say; I just couldn't stand not having you with me, as my wife," he said.

She smiled indulgently at him. "I suppose my going out at night with other men might cause you to fear that that might happen," she said. "Nevertheless, it is the one thing you do not have to fear. I hope that soon you will be able to rid yourself of that particular concern; it has no basis."

He breathed easier.

"Anything else," she said.

He looked as though he were twisting and turning inside. There was something and he was afraid to express it.

"Jake?"

"There is one thing. It's crazy. But It has bothered me for a long time," he said.

She looked quizzically at him; this didn't sound good. "And that is?"

"You remember the second time we used the trailer, back at the prison, you remember?"

"Yes. I thought what we did was pretty good," she said. "It was for me. But-not you?"

"No-no, the sex was great. With you it's always fantastic," he said. "It's one of the reasons that I know that I could just not live without you."

"Jake!" She was growing impatient with him.

"Well, I noticed when we undressed that you weren't wearing your wedding ring. I haven't been able to get that out of my head. At the time it saddened me, actually terrified me. I was afraid I was losing you."

She sagged back into her chair. Her arms dropped straight down to her sides in a demonstration of surprise and exasperation. "My gawd!" she said. "Jake, and this is the truth, I wasn't wearing it that day because I had taken it to the jewelers to be cleaned and polished. It had nothing to do with another man or leaving you or anything," she said. "My gawd! That was so long ago! For you to not have said anything-

"Listen to me, dear. If anything like that ever bothers you again, I demand that you tell me. And, I demand that you tell me immediately. Got it?"

She could see he had unburdened himself. His relief was palpable.

"Got it," he said.

"Okay, is that all then? Last chance," she said.

"Yes, I guess that's it," he said.

"Good. Then stand up," she said.

"Huh?"

"Stand up, dear. Don't make me say it again."

He did as she said, but his knitted brow made it clear he was confused.

"Now, take off your pants," she said.

"Huh?"

"Jake, from now on if I say something please listen and do whatever is indicated. Can you possibly deal with that?" Her tone was one of yet more exasperation.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He quickly unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants stepping out of them as he did so.

"Your underpants too," she said.

This time he didn't hesitate. Her tone made it clear she was not in a "repeating her instructions" mood. He pushed his underpants down and off and stood naked from the waist down in front of her, vulnerable and erect: that is his penis was erect.

"Good. I see you're excited. That is also good. You are indeed my horny little cuckold," she giggled. "Now sit down for a little bit."

He resumed his seat.

"We've talked some before," she said, "but now we are going to fill in the gaps and the details. You may ask questions this afternoon. But, after this there will be none of that; there will only be your obedience. Is that clear enough for you?"

He nodded his assent. He was worried and excited and confused and very afraid to say anything that might set her off.

She noticed his concern. "Don't worry, Jake. In the long run you will love our new arrangement. I've done the research and there is a ton of it out there. I know you, and you are at heart not the macho butthead that got himself convicted and sent to prison. In actuality you're my pussyhwipped little fellow who loves his hot wife even more than he loves sex or himself or cars or any of it. Well, I love you too. I also have learned to love cock. I love knowing you are squirming and wiggling and worrying and hoping that I will share some of what I love with you. Well, stop worrying; I will share with you," she said. "The one monster requirement is that you obey me in all things henceforth. Any questions so far?"

"No ma'am."

"Okay. This evening you are going to begin learning to deal with denial."

"Denial?"

"Yes. You are not going to be able to put your cock into my pussy again for a while."

"But, honey-I need-I mean will I…"

"Will you ever get to? Certainly. But, only when I say so."

She could see he was paralyzed with disappointment. "You need to trust me, Jake. I know it won't be easy at first, but you will soon learn to know your place and adjust to your initial frustrations," she said.

"Geezsus!"

She smiled knowingly at him. Knowingly, because she knew him. He needed this; he was just afraid of it.

"Let's talk a little about your status as a parolee, on parole to me."

"Yes, will I be able to get out of the house once in a while? I mean before my sentence is up?" He was already begging.

"No, Jake. I am not letting you get your ass thrown back into prison, and you would be; they would find out and it would be all over for you. By that I mean, you will be back in the slam for the full ten years of your sentence, and I would divorce you forthwith. I will not waste my time visiting a two-time loser; it ain't happenin'. And, I will never again be put in a position to have to visit my husband who is in prison. You better be getting this. More than one hundred feet from the edge of this property and I will turn you in myself. Your risk taking days are over, Jake. Am I understood?"

"Okay. I understand, and you're right," he said. "I'll be good."

"You absolutely will be good or else. I am going to take stern measures, Jake, to make sure of it. You will obey me. You will obey me no matter how unpalatable or humiliating or frustrating it may be for you. Trust me; I mean it," she said.

"Yes, ma'am, I won't disappoint you. I promise," he said. "I've behaved like shit; I know that. I know I threw a monkey wrench into our lives by getting myself sent up. I will do whatever you say no matter what. Just love me, girl, it's all I need."

"Good, Jake. You have my love. Now, I have a little surprise for you, a present actually."

He brightened. She giggled the giggle of a haughty princess.

She reached behind her. She picked one of two, small, innocuously wrapped packages that were sitting on the miniature credenza. He hadn't noticed the packages before; his attention had been focused on her alone.

"Go ahead; open it," she said.

He did. He took out the contents and his face fell. His mouth hung open in shock. "But…"

"Yes dear, it's for you. You will be wearing it twenty-four-seven. Every once in a while I will let you out, and you will be able to cum even maybe fuck me. But, that will be when it suits me, and you will not under any circumstance even so much as attempt to take it off. The punishment for that will be very, very severe."

He was doing his best to swallow, but his throat was too dry. "Honey, please; I beg of you, please."

"No, Jake, you are condemned to wear this little cock cage most of the time possibly for the rest of your life. Get used to it. I know it doesn't seem like it now; but in the long run you'll be glad. You must trust me. I know what's best for you; I really do," she said.

"Now, Jake, go get me a tray of ice cubes and a small dish towel," she said.

He moved like one in a trance. He emptied the cubes into a small bowl and brought them to her with one of the dish towels that was hanging by the refrigerator.

"Stand in front of me, Jake." He did so and his pole almost touched her neck, but there would be no relief for him this day. He was beginning his life of servitude as a married and willing cuckold husband.

Placing the cubes on the towel, she held the package of ice and cloth under his penis and ball sac and wrapped it securely around both. Jake winced in surprise and discomfort. "Geezsus, that's cold!" he said.

"Of course dear, ice is cold. But, it will make your penis shrink enough to get your cock into your cage," she said.

He started to cry. Jake was learning, but he was also having a very difficult time controlling his emotions. His cock shrank rapidly with the ice cubes doing what they were called upon to do.

"Good," said Millie, "That should do it." She slipped the tight fitting nylon sleeve over his shrunken cock and encircled his balls with the attached strong nylon mini-strap which was secured to the sleeve with a tiny platinum padlock. She held his imprisoned cock and balls in her hand and inspected them. "That should do it," she said. "No more erections for a while. Should keep you good and horny on a permanent basis.

"Does it hurt or pinch or anything?" she asked, not wanting him to suffer needlessly.

"No ma'am," he said. "It's a bit uncomfortable, but it doesn't hurt, I guess." He was doing his best to hold back the sobs.

"Kneel down, Jake." He did as she said. She wrapped her arms around him and comforted him. She cuddled him and spoke to him as she would a baby or the love of her life. It occurred to her in the doing that her Jake was a bit of both.

"We have one more gift for you my little cuckold." She reached around once more to the credenza. Picking up the other package, she gave it to him. He began to open it.

He looked at the contents and was about to say something, but didn't. The panties were each a different pastel color: pink, yellow, lavender, and green. "I have to wear these don't I," he said.

"Yes, dear, you do. Choose a pair now and put them on. You will only be wearing panties from now on. Your male underwear are history."

"You said I could ask questions today?" he said.

"Yes."

"Why the girlish underwear?"

"I have dealt our entire married life with your macho male ideas and silliness. You are going to be trained to go in the exact opposite direction. You will be getting in touch with your softer, more female, side. All men have them you know, but in most cases they are repressed. We're going to be letting yours the hell out. It's that simple," she said.

Just as he pulled on his panties, the phone rang.

"Jill!… Yes… okay… how soon?… okay see you in a little bit then." She hung up

"Jake, I will be going out tonight. This week, I have either stayed home with you or gone to work. But, tonight I have a date. Another man is going to fuck me. I want you to think about that, and be glad that I am happy and fulfilled; it's your lot in life from now on. Okay?"

He swallowed. He knew he'd be climbing the walls by the time she returned. "Yes," he whispered.

She gently tilted his chin up, so she could see his eyes. "You gonna be okay?" She was genuinely concerned.

"I-don't-I-know-don't know," he sobbed.

"It's all right, baby, be my big boy now and try and be good. Okay?" She continued to comfort him.

His life as his wife's slave, her cuckold slave, had commenced. Strangely, he felt his cock begin to pulse inside of its nylon prison.

******

Millie and Jill's date night was going to be special. Their husbands were out of prison, and out on the same day. They'd been home a week, the girls' fellas, or perhaps a better term their felons, had been pampered and now they would experience the other side of paradise: frustration and humiliation on a significantly grand scale.

The wives had done their best to reinitiate their boys back into normal home life. But, that home life had an invisible fence around it. The distance to the invisible fence measured 100 feet from the edge of their respective properties in any given direction. Cross over the invisible fence and go to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Of course the fence only penned in the boys; the girls had no such restriction, and tonight would be the first test of their husbands' willingness to accept that they really and actually were condemned to life sentences as their wives' cuckold slaves.

Millie waved to Jill as she saw her drive up. Turning, she gave a somewhat forlorn Jake a peck on the cheek. "Love you, honey. Behave yourself and don't wait up. I may be home pretty late," She said.

"Millie-"

"Yes, Jake?"

"Never mind-uh-have a good time," he said.

"Thank you, Jake." She turned to leave, but turned back to him once more. She laid her hand gently on his arm. "Jake, you have to get used to it, Honey. It's the way it's going to be."

She turned to leave and was down the steps and gone before he could respond.

"He was about to cry wasn't he," said Jill as they pulled away from the curb.

"Yes, I think so," she said. "But, he'll get over it at some point. He has to."

Jill smiled the smile of a woman dying to be told she was right. But, she settled with telling Millie about her Daniel. "Daniel reacted about the same," she said. "The only difference was, he did cry. I had to hold him and comfort him for ten minutes. He finally settled down. We'll have to think of something we can do for the boys. You know, kinda reassure them, do something nice for them."

"Jake did cry. You should have seen him. He sobbed like a baby needing his momma. Maybe we should just spank them," said Millie. "They are just little boys with large bodies after all."

Jill laughed. "Now, you're beginning to sound like me," she said.

Millie looked askance at her. "Whatever. Let's go get ourselves good and fucked."

"I'm game," said Jill.

Sam was already seated at the bar when the girls arrived, but Andy was inexplicably late. Jill was not pleased.

"There he is," said Sam. Andy came with long strides to their table. He was obviously trying to make up for his tardiness.

"Nice of you to show up," said Jill.

"Sorry, I know it sounds lame but I had a flat tire, and I didn't have a spare. I had to walk a mile and half to an auto shop which finally fixed me up. Anyway, that's what held me up," he said.

"Well, okay," said Jill, "I guess I can forgive you then."

Andy breathed a sigh of relief. "So what's on the agenda?" he said.

"Well, we dance a little, eat and drink a little, neck a little: the usual," said Millie.

"Well okay then," said Sam. "Millie dear, would you like to dance?"

"I'd love to" she said, rising with an exaggerated flourish.

The music was slow for the moment. "Missed you this week," said Sam.

"I know. But what is it they say about absence making the heart grow fonder," she teased.

"I was already fond as hell," he said. "I didn't need any damn absence."

"No, but Jake needed me. You know my situation, Sam. It hasn't changed. Okay?"

"Okay," he said. "But, I do love you, and I would treat you right; you know that."

"Sam!"

"Okay-okay. I'm sorry. It's just-I missed you is all."

"It was only a week, dear heart. Besides, you get to fuck me tonight; that should make up for your little bit of pain," she said laughing.

Jill had seen Millie laughing and dragged Andy out on the floor too. Soon they were all laughing and carrying on just like teenagers at a high school dance party.

The evening wore on, and Jill and Andy decided to breakout first. "Guys," she said, indicating Millie and Sam, "We're cutting out. Millie, see yuh tomorrow," she said.

"Right," said Millie, "we won't be far behind you. We'll just finish our drinks and then we're outta here too." She looked at Sam for confirmation; he nodded.

"Okay we're gone," said Jill. They turned and they left.

Millie turned to face Sam who was sitting close to her with his hand on her thigh.

"You have the best legs in the place," he said.

"Thanks," she said. "They get me around.

"Sam, I have a favor to ask of you." She hesitated. "Never mind, I will tell you later," she said.

He downed his drink and she followed suit. Sam dropped a ten on the table and they left.

They drove at modest speed to his apartment. "How do you feel?" said Sam.

"How do you mean," said Millie.

"Well, before your husband was in prison 150 miles away. Now, he's home, and you're going to see him in a few hours. He knows you will be fucking me tonight, right?"

"Yes, he knows," said Millie.

"Is he really okay with being cuckolded? I guess I'm just nervous," said Sam.

"He's fine, Sam. I think he actually gets off knowing I'm gonna be bringing home a deposit from you. It's crazy, but I think he does."

"I sure hope you're right. I don't want to have a confrontation with him."

"You won't. He can't leave the premises of the house, or he will be sent back to prison. He doesn't want to have that happen to him. He'll behave."

"Okay then, let's get to my place and fuck!" he stepped on it. They got to the apartment in less than ten minutes.

He held her hand in his as he guided her up the stairs for the umteenth time. Inside the apartment Millie tossed her wrap onto the love seat and sprawled lazily on the couch as her lover went to get them the ubiquitous wine glasses and their favorite brand of red wine.

"Nice," said Millie. "You know, I don't think I ever told you, but your apartment is very nice. It's cozy. Not too big. Not pretentious, just nice. I like it," she said.

"You can move in any time you want," he said only half joking.

"Sam, we've talked about that. You're a wonderful fuck buddy, but I do love my husband. Let's just keep things on an even keel, okay? I really don't want to keep telling you."

"You know, tit for tat, there something that I've never said to you either," he said.

"Oh?"

"I know that sex for us is good, but, why me? I mean I'm not sure I dare ask or really want to know. But, a woman like you? You're young, attractive, fabulous in bed. Why a guy twenty years older than you?"

"Twenty-three years older, dear."

"Don't rub it in," he laughed.

"Hmm? How to answer? Okay. Two years ago, Jake encouraged me to look for sexual release on the outside, since for practical purposes we, he and I, couldn't have any kind of a sex life ourselves.

"I decided not to look, but then you came along and hit on me."

Sam pointed to himself and smiled broadly, "Moi?"

"Yes, you. Frankly, I thought you'd be too old to ever be a real challenge to Jake, but you were a man; and well, I needed to get laid."

"So, I was safe."

"Yes, sort of. But later, you were behaving yourself so well that I began to like you then love you. Plus, there is the fact that you could fuck me for half an hour before squirting your seed inside of me; that of course, meant that I could cum almost every time you fucked me. Jake will probably never be your equal in that respect. He just doesn't have the staying power. He turns me on, and maybe once in a dozen times I come while he is fucking me, always after much extended foreplay. I make him pay though; he brings me off orally every time; if he didn't, I'd have kicked his ass out a long time ago.

"Physically, you are about the same size as Jake, I mean your cock, and well, you satisfy me. That's the long and the short of it," she said, and laughed at her own absurd double entendre.

"Well, I had to ask." While she had been speaking he had sat beside her on the couch. He put his glass of wine down and wrapped his arms around her. The dimmed lights of the front room lent a romantic glow to the atmosphere. He kissed her gently lovingly. Gawd! how he wanted this woman for his own. But, a piece of her was better than nothing; he'd bide his time.

She felt his hand slide up her arm and come level with her breast. He felt her through the material of her cotton dress and pulled her to him to kiss her more passionately than he had before. She slipped her tongue between his lips and he felt faint from the eroticism of it. He sucked on her tongue for a moment and pushed her gently back and began unbuttoning her blouse. He slipped it off of her shoulders.

She placed her hand on the front of his pants and massaged his cloistered penis. Deftly, she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slid the zipper down. She spread the top of his pants open exposing his white, cotton briefs. She resumed massaging his cock through the fabric of his underwear.

She could smell the acidic smell of their oral juices as their saliva spread over their lips and noses and ears and necks and it ignited her passion, passion that was never far from the surface in any event, not since Sam had been doing her, not for the past two years.

He unhooked the catch on the front of her bra and her B-cup breasts with their smallish aureoles spilled out. For a moment he just looked at them. He never tired of the sight of her naked breasts; for him, they were the spice of life. Without touching them with either hand, he leaned in and suckled at each erect nipple in turn; he repeated the process several times.

Millie was sopping wet between her legs. Her breasts were the keys to her vagina. She began to pant. "Stand up," she commanded him. He obeyed her.

She pulled his pants down and then his underpants. She reached up and unbuttoned his shirt and let him shuck it off and toss it to the side. Sam was naked. Millie was on her knees and she was holding his six-inch tool in her small hands. Pre-cum was oozing from the tiny opening in the tip of the glans; she licked it off.

She slid the cock between her lips as far as she could without gagging. Sam and Jake both had about six-inch cocks, but Sam's was unseemly thick. She could never get more than three inches inside of her mouth to suck. But she was sucking what she could get in for all she was worth. She was hot and she was ready and she was going to push his buttons and his limits tonight. She felt him begin to buck after about three or four minutes of her efforts. He unloaded inside of her mouth and she swallowed every drop except for a little bit that managed to dribble out of her mouth and down her chin. She wiped the white goo off of her chin and licked her fingers clean of it.

He led her into the bedroom. He finished undressing her and stood kissing her for some moments. She tasted so female. The scent of her juices and her incipient sweat filled the air around him. He licked her neck and face and slipped to his knees and lapped at her pussy until his face was awash in her wetness. He turned her around.

He kissed both of her butt cheeks and then spread them apart to gaze at her most secret place. He kissed her anus and licked it, and knew, that if there were a heaven, and if there were deities, that they would be female, and this is the way such goddesses would require their creatures to worship them! He did worship this woman; he adored her. He adored her because she deserved to be adored. Her husband Jake might be in the throes of becoming her cuckold slave, but he would too were this woman to require such of him.

He guided her to the bed and laid her down. He watched as she very slowly spread her legs wide for him: the ultimate act of surrender of a woman to the man she favored. Later Millie would assert her female-hood and again enforce the rules; but as she lay open to him now, she was the submissive one waiting patiently for her lover to do her.

He lowered herself between her legs and lay on top of her. Her breasts crushed against his chest; her breathing labored by the weight of him. He kissed her yet again. He eased up from her slightly, and she caught her breath. He positioned his cock for the assault that he would soon make upon her pussy.

He poked for a moment finding the crease that gave him access to his goddess. He slipped in. He held himself aloof for a moment. "Are you okay," he said.

"Geezsus, Sam, for gawd's sake fuck me!"

He pushed into her and began drilling her with everything he had. He fell into a pattern of screwing and pausing and screwing and pausing, bringing her to near completion and then letting her retreat. Finally, after a long time, he began speeding up again. His cock punished her pussy, bruising her. His cruelty only whetted her passion. She began screaming and jerking in a wild and savage act of mating. She bucked wildly arching her back high as she felt the waves of orgasm wrenching her body spastically even as her juices squirted out of her pussy and mixed with those of the man who was destroying her.

They lay sweaty and exhausted. He rolled off of her and spooned her, holding her tight while his fingers abused her nipples.

"Thank you Sam, It was the best ever."

"For me too you beautiful woman," he said.

They fell asleep and dreamed the dreams of the contented. Sam awoke first; it was 2:00 in the morning. He made her some hot chocolate in the kitchen and brought it to her as she stirred to consciousness.

"You wanna stay here tonight; it's pretty late," he said.

She smiled indulgently at him. "No, Sam, I have to get home. My hubby is probably going half nuts. I know for damn sure he's not sleeping. He is not used to this yet. He will be, but not yet."

"I know," he said. "I was just being polite."

She laid her hand on his arm as he sat beside her on the bed. "That's why I love you," she said.

******

Jake heard her car pull into the driveway. He hadn't slept a wink. He met her at the door, opening it for her and giving her a kiss on the lips as she entered.

"Have a good time?" he said. He realized how incongruous his words were, but it was all he could think to say.

She smiled at him. "Yes, it was fine," she said. "Did you rest at all?"

He wanted to say he had, but he knew she knew he hadn't. "No. I know I should have, but I couldn't," he said.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm horny as hell though," he said.

"Even though it's late, I have a present for you, my little cuck," she said.

"Take of those under things you're wearing and follow me into the bedroom," she said. "You're going to learn all about cream pies tonight." And he did.

******

It was Sunday morning and it was gray outside. The phone buzzed and Jake answered it. "Yeah… Jill,… I'll get her."

"Hi Jill… yeah I was gonna call you… yes, in an hour I wanna eat first… Good." She hung up.

An hour later the two women were walking in the park near Jill's apartment.

"How, did your date go with Andy," said Millie.

"You first," laughed Jill.

"Good. In fact very good," said Millie.

"No, I don't mean, 'how well did the fucking go?' I meant how well did your loving husband take it?"

"Oh. Not too bad. He-"

"He what? Tell me?"

"He got his first cream pie last night. And, he gobbled it up. I have never seen that man so hot. Not even when we were in high school. Afterwards he spent half an hour sucking at my ass and toes and that was at four o'clock in the fucking morning! It was heavenly, actually. I really believe that boy of mine is getting into his role as a cuck," said Millie.

"I told you that the cage would do the trick. He is going to be horny one hundred percent of the time. I guarantee it! You just need to make sure that he is emotionally okay," said Jill.

"I think you're right.

"Now, what about Daniel?" said Millie.

"He cried when I got home at around 1:00AM. He is such a woosie. He claimed that his cage was bothering him, so I spanked him."

Millie eyed her friend. "Wow!"

"Yes. Funny thing too, after his spanking he kissed my feet and thanked me. I think he will come along and learn his place too. I'm just a little afraid of him ever seeing Andy."

"Why?" said Millie.

"Well, I mentioned somewhere in our conversations that I had had a nice evening. His face darkened and he walked out, said he had to go to the bathroom. He's too big a guy for Andy to mess with. He didn't say anything bad, but the look. I don't know-"

"Sam has mentioned being concerned about Jake too. Stuff along the same lines you're telling me," said Millie.

"I guess we'll have to be careful to train them well," said Jill.

"Yeah, I think so said Millie.

Chapter 4

Monday morning Jake was up early; it was his first day of work. He had to keep the job; it was one of the requirements of his parole, so he couldn't afford to be late. Even if it had not been a requirement, he was under orders from Millie to keep it and to do a good job, so he would. He was getting used to following orders, and she was getting used to giving them.

Jimmy Dawson was the owner operator of the auto shop that employed Jake. A competent but tired gentleman at sixty, he'd seen his best years and was looking forward to retiring at some point in the not too distant future. He had been looking for someone with the skills to fix the damn cars and not steal him blind while in the process. He'd gone through a half dozen so-so mechanics who were much better at larceny than at setting engine timings. He was taking a chance by hiring a con.

Jake had gotten the job, as a result of Jill Reynolds' lover Andy Rush. Jim Dawson knew Andy when the latter was a high school kid who used to hang around his shop.

Jimmy fixed the Rushes' cars and later Andy's car in particular. Andy had been short, and weird, and a nerd who had but one friend in the world: Ray Seward.

Raymond Seward was a guy who had no friends either, other than Andy, and nothing to recommend him while in high school. Tall, gangly, and totally shy, Ray Seward, however, though later, acquired a special talent: he could make money as though by magic.

With the advent of the computer revolution, Ray became a day trader. Raymond, with Andy and his computer close at hand, became a millionaire by the time he was twenty-six, ditto Andy. He was now that many times over as was Andy. The two of them had put some money into Jimmy's shop at a time when money was short and Jimmy had nearly lost the business. For their largesse they were accorded special treatment when their cars were sick.

When Jake and Daniel were paroled, Jill prevailed upon Andy to help get Jake the job.

Jake had arrived on time, a good sign, Jimmy would quip later. And, the twenty-seven year old newbie seemed to understand what he was talking about when he gave him things to attend to, also a good sign. Now, if the new hire could only keep his hand out of the till, and refrain from doing jobs on the side that robbed Jimmy of business and customers; things would be looking up.

At noon, Millie, who had the day off, showed up with lunch for her hubby. He'd gone off without any. Since he was not allowed to go anywhere but to the shop and home; he had no way to get food without bringing his own: he'd forgotten to pack it and was starving when Millie arrived.

"Thank gawd!" he said

"Belly growling is it, mister," said Millie laughing at his evident gastric distress.

He ate and they talked. Jimmy was introduced to the comely wife of his employee.

"Okay, honey buns," she said, "you be home on time. I will be going out tonight, and I'll want to talk to you first. Okay?"

Jake looked up when she said this, but only nodded.

"Okay then, see you fiveish," said Millie and she was gone.

******

"So, tomorrow's the night," said Jill.

"Yes, I feel funny. I am so close to the two of them that I think it has to happen. I mean them meeting each other," said Millie.

"How do you think Jake will react," said Jill.

"He'll be nervous. I will be too. He'll have a hard time liking Sam, but it will be a beginning. They can't remain essentially tacit mysteries to each other forever. No, it's time. They'll meet. Then, Sam and I will do our thing."

"You mean fuck," said Jill.

"That too. That'll work. Right?"

"Why are you asking me? I think it may be too soon, but you know your man better than I. Sam of course won't be a problem: he's banging you, but Jake? I'm not sure, I just don't know," said Jill. "You've got bigger balls than I've got."

"I think I might be the most nervous one of the tree of us, big balls or not," said Millie.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Andy asked me to tell you. Raymond has asked about you. He wants to see you again if you're game. Whaddya think?"

Millie looked at her friend with a trace of surprise. "Really? He hasn't called or anything since that first date. I mean it was good, but you'd have thought that he would have called by now. Tell Andy to have him call me. I'll make up my mind between now and then.

"By the way," said Millie, "the package arrived today."

"You mean your new…"

"Yes, the kennel. It's still in the crate. Do you think that you could have that friend of yours that put yours together come over when I get ready to have mine put together? You know maybe while Jake's at the shop?" said Millie.

"Isaac, yes, sure bet," said Jill. "Where is yours now, not in the house?"

"No, the garage. Jake won't notice it until it's together and ready for him to occupy on those special occasions."

"Like when you bring Sam home for slam bang evening," said Jill, "with emphasis on the bang."

"Like that," said Millie. "I am not quite ready to trust him yet with me and Sam naked in the house and him there. I don't think that he'd do anything, but I have to be sure before I risk it. Jake would tear Sam a new asshole if he let himself get out of control," said Millie.

"Yeah, got the same problem with my man. He's seen his though. I have it in the garage all set up. That's where he'll be staying whenever I bring any of my lovers home," said Jill. "Well, at least until I am sure he can handle it. I really would like him to watch at some point, you know, me getting it, but it'll be a while. Gawd! won't that be hot, Andy or some other stud doing me and my husband trapped in the same room squirming and wiggling wishing it were him poking me! I swear, girl, I could almost get off thinking about it."

"Me too," said Millie. "May I ask? How did Daniel react to seeing it, his kennel?"

"Not well, to tell the truth. We argued big time. He got the message though. He, both of our boys, are trapped. They are cons with limits on their movements. They have no sexual rights except those we allow. It's tough for them. Normally, I would have spanked his black ass for sassing me, but-"

"But, we have to allow for the occasional venting of their overloaded psyches: kinda let the steam out of the pressure cooker," said Millie, getting her drift.

"Exactly," said Jill.

******

Jake was home by 5:15. Millie met him at the door.

"How was it?" said Millie.

"Good. It's a job. The old guy had me runnin' every which where, but it was good. Nothing I couldn't handle. I mean I do know cars. He does too, by the way; I'd say he's a genuine top mechanic."

"Well, that's good to hear. Jill will be glad to know it seems to be working out."

"Yeah, I will make it a point to thank her when I see her," he said.

"Jake, I have something to tell you."

"Uh-oh, don't like the sound of that," he said.

"No, it's nothing bad. It's just, well, I need you to meet someone," she said.

"Who?" he said, while pulling a Lite out of the frig and popping the top.

"My lover, it's time you met," said Millie.

"Oh my, Millie, I don't know. Does he know about me? I mean all about me?"

"Huh?" said Millie.

"You know, my cock cage, my panties. Does he know all of that kind of stuff, my place here?"

"Oh. Yes, pretty much. But he knows better than to push your buttons. You don't have to worry about Sam. Besides, you are doing all of that stuff for me. It's for you and me, not him or anyone else," said Millie. "All of it is only to get you into a better, more law abiding mind set. I know I said it was a life sentence, and it may be, but you might get paroled out them some day. You never know, but don't be counting on it. Okay? And, Jake, you will always be a cuckold; it's your reality now."

"Millie, I know I'm a cuckold. I know I have no power or say about my place in your life, but I really don't want to meet the guy. I mean I really don't. I might not be able to control myself," said Jake.

"It's not up to you. You need to grow up and get with the program. Am I clear?"

"Yes," he hissed.

Millie felt unsure of his attitude, even a little queasy, but he had surrendered in the end, so she was more or less satisfied for the moment. It suddenly came to her that Isaac would have a job to do tomorrow: Jake would be unable to "lose" it if Isaac did his job right, and she knew he would.

"You will be rewarded if you're good," she said finally. She looked askance at him and he seemed to soften and give in. She was confident he had. To Millie, Jill's misgivings now seemed to have been overreaching.

I will be bringing him by tomorrow night. The way it's going to be will be humiliating for you, but that's part of your life now, big boy: sexual humiliation. I think it is going to be so hot!

Jake for the life of him could not restrain his cock from agreeing with his wife. She saw him straining and smirked. "Looks like 'Mr. Johnson' wants to agree with me," she said.

Jake was red faced and speechless.

******

Sam was scheduled to meet Millie for drinks at the Horn at 7:00. He was a bit early so he took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer. It came; he drank, and Millie arrived.

She tapped him on his shoulder to get his attention. "How are we doing?" she said, as he set his bottle down.

"Oh! Good," he said. "I got here a little early."

"Yes, I see, and you started the party without me," she said laughing.

"No-no," he said, "I-let me order something for you."

"Red wine," said Millie.

He ordered and they moved to a table away for the traffic in the bar.

"So, how was your day?" said Sam.

"Good. A regular work day. You know how that is. I had a little talk with Jake when I got home this afternoon," said Millie.

"Really? About what?" said Sam.

"About meeting you," she said.

He started to say something, but she held up her hand to stop him. "Let me finish. I know you're nervous about meeting my husband, but it has to happen at some point; I want that to be tomorrow night," said Millie. Her tone indicated that there really wasn't going to be any discussion of the matter; it was closed and a done deal for all intents and purposes.

"Millie, I will do whatever you say, but I don't know; I'm real nervous about this one."

"Well, it's Jake that's got the reason to be nervous not you," said Millie, "so stop arguing with me. It's tomorrow night before we do our thing."

He nodded his reluctant surrender.

******

Sam got up early the next day. Both he and Millie would be off. He had no idea how he was going to deal with the meeting scheduled for that evening. He was upset and not afraid to say so. He'd never met the wimp-ass hubby, but he knew a lot about him. What was most on his mind in terms of his adversary-which is how he saw him-was the fact that he was married to the woman he wanted to marry. There was an eensy teensy problem however, the guy was twice his size, he was just out of prison, and he knew how to handle himself in a set-to. Well, at least he was the bull, not the wimp cuckold, he reminded himself.

Millie puttered around the house. Jake was at work, and she was waiting for Isaac to come and put the kennel together. She had originally thought that the garage, like Jill's, was where she would put it, but she had changed her mind. It would go in the den: the room was large enough. They'd once had an oversized parrot cage that actually hung from ceiling hooks. The parrots had died because neither she nor Jake had a clue about raising exotic birds, but the hook was still there and it might be strong enough to hold the cage and it's intended contents-Isaac would know.

Isaac arrived at 10:00 as arranged.

"Hi," said Millie, "you must be Isaac."

"Yes. Hear you gotta bird cage to hang. A big one."

"Yes, but it is still in the crate. Same as Jill's," said Millie.

Having given him an outline of what she needed, Millie got out of the man's way and let him get to it. Periodically she brought him iced tea, sandwiches, and once her carry phone when he'd gotten call from another customer.

Because of its size, 4'X4'X3', it had to be assembled in the den.

"So, can it be hung from up there?" said Millie when the time came for the placement of the cage.

"Yeah, I checked. Whoever put that hook up there did a good job. The hook is part of a flat piece of steel two-foot square on the topside of your six-inch thick concrete ceiling, and the ceiling is also reinforced. And, since, like I say, the concrete is steel reinforced in the first place, that hook could hold a thousand pounds and not feel the strain," he said.

"Wow," said Millie. "We just rent the place. We liked it because it was bigger than an apartment and has a yard. But, I had no idea that the place was that well constructed. I didn't even know it had a thick concrete ceiling; maybe my husband did, but I didn't."

"Oh yeah, it's well constructed. Gotta wonder if the original owner was paranoid or somethin' they way whoever it was had this place built. A typhoon could plow through here and this house would not even notice it. The windows and stuff might be blown out, but the house would be laughing in the wind if you get my drift," he said.

"Wow!" said Millie.

"I've installed the power hoist you wanted to raise and lower the bird cage. It's got enough power to do the job and not take up any significant space as you see. The line travels down the corner of the wall into the on/off-raise/lower switch over there. It'll be easy to clean now. Birds can be messy, I know," he said.

"Yes, they can. We've had them before, but that was a long time ago," she said.

******

Originally there had been a pool table and a wet bar in the den, but those had long been removed by the landlord and taken away to who knew where. Millie and Jake used it as a TV room and a place to lounge around. There was a seven-foot couch and a smaller love seat that were situated along two of the walls. In the center of the room was an old, oaken, oval-shaped table with four equally old, heavy, and armless straight backed chairs. In the early days of their marriage, Jake used to have poker parties once a month in the den with some of his more unsavory buddies: the same buddies who were indirectly responsible for his doing his time at Chico.

Millie went to the wall and pushed the on-button and experimented with raising and lowering the cage. Smiling inwardly; she was satisfied. Now, the big challenge: getting her husband to allow himself to be on display while locked up inside of it. The indignity of the proposal would challenge her most strenuous female wiles and efforts. If she could do it, she thought, the war was won, not just a singular battle. The thought of the upcoming struggle scared her spitless. But the die was cast. Five hours to go to zero hour.

******

"Hi dear," he said, as he slumped into his usual seat at the table, exhausted from his day on the job. He'd hardly even looked at her before taking his seat. She brought him his usual Lite, and stood in front of him as he gratefully took his first swig. He stopped mid-swallow and almost spit the yellow-pepsi all over himself.

"Fucking-geezsus!" he said. "You are gorgeous this afternoon!"

And she was. She wore a very low cut, strapless, lavender sundress; it was barely knee-length. Her black heels were three-inch spikes. Her lips were painted bright red, and her eyes perfectly made up and made to be as sensuous as possible. Her nails, fingers and toes, were painted to match her lips. Her perfume was soul shattering.

Millie had made it to first base. She'd give him about half a minute before, she was certain, his caged cock would begin to throb as it tried to harden and become erect. His cock would fail to achieve its objectives driving him even deeper into sub-space than he doubtless already was.

She knew he was horny, tired, but horny. He was all of the time now; that was her edge. In order for him to get anything he would have to knuckle under to the most humiliating thing he had ever been faced with. Her challenge would be to exploit his sexual desperation.

"Thank you, dear heart. Sam is coming over tonight, and he'll be staying over.

"Jake, he's going to fuck me here, in our house," she said. "I want you to be prepared. It will be very humiliating for you I know, but you have to grin and bear it. Okay?"

Jake swallowed hard. He looked at the can of beer on the table beside him. He lifted it, tilted it back, and downed it in one long swallow: he needed the reinforcement. "I don't know if I can control myself, Millie. I don't want to go back to prison, but if I see that guy put his hands on you-"

"I understand, Jake, that's why I am going to lock you up."

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him tenderly. "I love you, but this is the way I want it, my love."

He was so stunned that he could hardly breathe. "But, I already am locked up," he said. "But, that's not what you mean is it."

"No, Jake, it isn't. Come with me."

She took his hand, and led him toward the den. Her hand in his felt good. He loved it when she did things like that to him. She felt so strong and so feminine and so-his.

Entering the den, he saw it. He dropped her hand and stumbled back a step. "That's for me?" he said.

She leaned against him and her female form melded with his maleness. She felt his hardness; it gave her confidence. "Yes."

"I-I-I-can't," he cried. "Millie it's too much!"

"Yes, you can. You're my big boy. And, it will prevent you from doing anything bad to Sam. You can understand that, can't you? Remember, you must be obedient. Obedience is the one thing I require of you. We've talked long and hard about it, Jake."

"When?" he said.

"I will lock you inside before Sam arrives. It's 5:30 now; maybe in about an hour," she said. "Then, when he gets here, I will bring him in to meet you. I promise you he will not make fun of you or do anything to provoke you. I know that that is going to be of little comfort, but it's the best I can do this first time. In the future when you are more comfortable with me taking other men to our bed; then, we can maybe do away with locking you up in such a humiliating fashion. But tonight it's the best recourse we have," she said.

"I should ask when you had that thing put in here. But, I guess it doesn't make any difference, does it," he said.

"There's more too," she said. "But, that can wait till just before we lock you inside. Jake, you're not going to fight me on this when the time comes are you?" she said.

"No. I'll take my medicine. I love you. I want you to be happy, and I want you to be loved and that includes being well-fucked," he said. "Millie, you fucking other guys is actually a turn on for me; we've talked about that too. But, this guy Sam; I fear him; I think he wants to take you away from me. Anybody else but him."

She took him in her arms once more and kissed him passionately. "He kissed her back almost hard enough to bruise her lips. "In time you will learn that neither Sam nor anyone else is a threat to you and me. I promise you that that day will come.

"My, you are hot to trot aren't, my husband," she said, I can tell: you're shaking.

"You have no idea," he said.

"You will be rewarded," she said. "Oh my, how you will be rewarded."

******

He was finished taking a shower when she called him into the den. "It's time," she said. "He'll be here in half an hour."

He swallowed hard and she noticed the hint of a tear in his eye. She placed her hand on his arm and smiled up at him. "It won't be that bad. And after tonight you will get to have me as your reward," she said.

"Really?"

He smile was his answer and he felt less hurt and apprehensive than he had a moment before. "Question," she said. "Do you want to watch him do me the first time tonight? We will do it right here in this room with you in your cage watching if you want," she said.

"I don't know-I mean I'm not sure… it'd be…"

"Well, after I introduce you, you can ask me to let you and I will. He and I will do it on the couch over there. You will have a great view if it is what you decide you want. You can even choose the way he takes me, choose the position," she said. "But, after that he and I will go into the bedroom and he will do me in there for the rest of the night. You'll have to stay in here, I'm afraid, locked up."

He was shaking. She could tell it was partly from the excitement of what was going to transpire and partly from abject fear and humiliation. "Calm down," she said, trying to soothe him. "You'll be fine. I won't let anything bad happen to you. But, there is something else, as I said."

He looked her askance.

She went to the end table near the couch and brought back a plastic grocery bag with the logo from the store where she worked. She pulled out a full liter-size water bottle and another empty one.

He caught on immediately; no one ever accused Jake of being slow. "For drinkin' and peein' during the night, right?"

"Yes. Once we retire to the bedroom, Jake, you'll be all alone and unable to go to the bathroom. But this should solve the problem. Oh, and here's a small funnel to help you aim. I will be turning off the lights in here, but I will leave the outside lights on, so the shine through the window should be enough for you to do your business," she said.

He nodded agreement with the practicality of her planning.

"Take off your clothes, Jake. I want you naked. You can leave your panties on to cover your cock-cage," she said.

He didn't even argue. He got himself naked and she collected his clothes and put them into the empty grocery bag.

"There's a blankey for you in the cage in case you get cold," she said. "But you can't use it until we go into the bedroom. I want you naked when I introduce you to Sam and while you watch us, if you do."

She picked up his water bottles and handed them to him and pointed to the cage. He took the bottles and turned to go to the cage. She opened the gate on the cage for him and he got on his hands and knees preparing to get inside. She stopped him, got down on her knees and kissed him gently on the lips. "I love you," she said. "Think about the reward you're going to get tomorrow."

She stood and watched as he crawled inside his miniature cell. He was able to sit or kneel on the carpeted floor. He could lie down, but he could not stretch out; he'd be sleeping in a modified fetal position. He looked to be getting his bearings as she slowly closed the gate on him. She engaged the latch and padlocked it, securely condemning him to his fate for the night.

"You okay," she said.

"I guess," he said. "Okay, I will be back soon. When Sam gets here I will be setting him straight on the rules, and then we will come in so he can meet you. Relax now, it won't be too long." She turned and she left closing the door to the den behind her. He was alone.

Jake squatted inside his cage and wondered how he felt. He was turned on being his wife's cuckold; there was no doubt about it. He was conflicted with that reality and his fear that Sam Jacobs was angling to take his wife away from him. No matter how much Millie said it couldn't happen; he knew that that just wasn't true. No matter how unlikely it might be, it was just plain not totally impossible, and for that he feared Sam Jacobs. Did he want to watch him do her? It was six-to-five and pick 'em.

Twenty minutes after locking up her husband, Sam arrived.

She let him in and they kissed passionately for some minutes before either of them said word one.

"Millie, you are so fucking beautiful," he said.

"Thank you, dear, are you ready to meet my husband?"

"No, but you're the boss," he said.

"Okay, now listen to me. In order to protect you, I have locked him in a cage. Actually it's for his protection as well as yours. I don't want him going back to prison for killing you. He didn't want this meet either, but it is necessary. I need to have the two men I love know and eventually respect and enjoy each other's company; I insist on it."

"I know," he said. "I guess it's just this first time-"

"I understand. Now, no matter how funny his plight may seem to you, you must not ridicule him or treat him with contempt or otherwise hurt his feelings. Am I clear? There is no wiggle room here; it's the way I want it. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Okay, let's go in. he's in the den."

Jake heard them coming. His stomach churned with embarrassment and fear. The door opened and the couple stood there and stared at him. He, Jake, was on his knees, naked, and with his fingers entwined in the mesh of the cage.

Millie led her lover to the cage and smiled at her husband. His face was twisted in shame and humiliation.

"Jake, this is Sam Jacobs. He's my boss at the store, and he's my lover. Sam, this is my beloved husband and obedient cuckold, Jake Carson," said Millie

"Nice to meet you, Jake," said Sam. He was clearly trying hard not to laugh. Both Millie and Jake noticed, but neither was ready to call him on it at that point.

"Nice to meet you too," mumbled Jake.

"Jake, have you decided what you want? I mean what we talked about a while ago?"

"Yes, ma'am. My answer is yes, I do want to."

"That's wonderful, dear, it will make me proud to let you be a part of our evening.

"Sam, we will be making love in here first tonight, over there on the couch. We will just pretend we are alone, and do what we always do. My husband has decided he wants to see you fuck me. After we do it, the once, you and I will go into the bedroom for some privacy and you can have me all to yourself for the rest of the night," she said.

Clearly Sam had not had a clue that he would be fucking this woman in front of her husband, but she was the boss, and so that was going to be what happened. He just nodded his agreement.

Millie blew Jake a kiss as Sam let her to the couch twenty feet away. She stopped him, disengaged her hand from his and walked over to the wall switch. She hit the on button and then the button that raised the cage four feet off the floor. Jake was surprised by the sudden change in altitude and gripped the mesh for support.

"There, that's better. You'll have a better view now Jake." She turned and went back to her lover.

The room was not brightly lit, but it was a little bit more romantic because of the lower wattage. Millie had been right, raising the cage a few feet gave Jake a much better view than were he to have remained on the floor where the heavy table in the middle of the room would have obscured one end of the couch to some degree.

Mille stood in front of Sam, hands at her sides, beautiful and vulnerable. She wanted this to be special. She wanted her Jake to know why being her cuckold could be wonderful for him too. If Sam screwed it up, she would never forgive him.

Sam looked into her eyes, and leaned in and kissed her softly. She responded letting her body lean in to his and mold herself to his masculinity. His hand came to rest on her buttock, and she shivered and let out an involuntary moan. His hand massaged her butt, and, through her dress, delved into the crease of her ass. She wiggled in appreciation of his research.

He slid the zipper at the back of her dress slowly down revealing her naked back; she wore no bra this evening. He peeled her dress down and knelt on the floor in front of her. Only her panties remained. He slipped his thumb into the elastic holding them up, and before sliding them off, glanced up at the prisoner in his cage. Jake was rapt. He countenance was almost fierce in its attention to what was happening below and across from him.

Millie was naked, and she too dared to glance at her hapless husband. Sam kissed her slit reverently. And she shuddered. She raised his chin, "Lick me," she said. Sam licked and sucked at her pussy with great attention to her pleasure. He turned her around. She was facing her husband and he, Sam, made love to her anus. Millie smiled at Jake and mouthed him a kiss.

She spun around and pulled her lover to his feet. She undressed him slowly but without stopping. He was naked in two minutes. His cock and its threatening thickness waving its challenge to the helpless male with whitening knuckles watching from his cage.

Still standing, they embraced, they kissed a hundred times till their spit and sweat produced its own smell; the odor of passion.

He started to pull her to the couch, but she stopped him. She walked back to the cage, and whispered to Jake. "Jake, I forgot. How do you want him to take me?"

Jake was almost too choked up to respond, but somehow he was able to say one word: "missionary."

She smiled wanly at him and touched his fingers that were gripping the mess of his cage.

She returned to her conqueror and lay prone before him on the couch. "Use me on top," she said. I promised Jake earlier that he could choose."

He knelt beside her naked form and kissed the length of her. Once more he sucked and licked at her pussy and then retraced his path to her tits and her nipples where he suckled like a year-old needing nourishment.

He stopped suckling, glanced up at the prisoner, and lay on top of the woman spreading her legs with his knees as he did so.

Millie was sopping wet between her legs and he entered her easily. He began fucking her slowly, her face grimacing at first, as her vagina adjusted to the thickness of his cock.

Jake was mesmerized by the scene unfolding before him. He saw the man speed up and slow down, speed up and slow down, then speed up and slow down yet again; it was a rhythm that seemed to be thrilling his prey. Soon, the two men were treated to a shattering scream as she came and came again in a series of very female orgasms. Finally she lay still. The man had cum during her final spasms. He was panting and gasping for breath.

Millie rose and pushed her lover back onto his back. She took hold of his cock and glanced up at her husband. She licked it, and let the glans slip into her mouth. She sucked him to hardness and denied him his climax. He would have to get that a little bit later in the bedroom.

She pulled him up and naked, and without a word to the man in the steel cage, they left hand in hand for the bedroom. As they exited the room, Millie flashed a final glance in her husband's direction and switched off the lights. Jake was left alone to ponder the scenes he had just seen acted out. His cock throbbed in significant pain as it tried vainly to escape its bonds. He wanted to cry and he wanted to see some more. It seemed the more he thought about it the more the word "denial" seemed to hold a prominent place in his current and future prospects.

******

The morning came and Jake could smell the bacon in the kitchen. He was famished, but he knew the breakfast was likely not for him. He supposed that at some point Millie would feel sorry for him and either come and let him out of his cage or bring him something to eat. But, so far, there had been nothing.

A bit later, presumably after breakfast, the door to the den opened but nobody came through it. He could hear them arguing in the hall. "Get in there," he heard his wife say. Sam came through the door and approached his cage. Millie was ten paces behind waiting near the far end of the couch.

The look that Sam gave him was full of venom, but his tone was friendly. The look could not have been seen by Millie considering her geography at that moment. "Hello panty boy," said Sam very softly: Millie could not be allowed to hear.

"I'm supposed to say goodbye to you and play nice. So goodbye. Oh, and be advised your woman will be my wife sooner or later, no hard feelings I hope. Sam snorted and waved to him contemptuously.

Jake flashed fire at him, but held his tongue. Millie will have seen him react to the visitor in front of him; she wasn't stupid.

"You got a problem asshole, nobody takes my woman," said Jake through clenched teeth.

Millie could see that they two of them were at each other she came up to end it. "Sam, what did you say?" said Millie.

"Nothin', I just asked panty boy how things were going and he went off on me," he lied.

"Okay, it's time for you to go home, Sam. We'll talk later," said Millie.

"You were only supposed to say goodbye and let it go at that, not put him down," said Millie.

"I didn't," said Sam. "Millie, you're mine. I've taken care of you and your needs for two years, that should count for something more than an occasional evening of screwing."

"Occasional evening! Are you out of it or something; we're together all of the time. And, as for taking care of me; a good case might be made for my taking care of you!"

"Well, that con in there sure as hell hasn't been taking care of you. You need to make a choice," said Sam, and he stalked out.

Millie walked to the wall and lowered her husband's cage to the ground. Taking the key from the hook, she unlocked the gate and he crawled out and stretched. It had been a little bit cramped and he was stiff.

"Okay, who started it?" said Millie. And don't lie to me."

"He did. The first words out of his mouth were, 'Hello panty boy,' sorry if I wasn't ready to wake up to that kind of abuse," said Jake. "He also vowed to take you away from me. He said he's going to marry you. And, since you can't be married to two men at the same time, that must mean that you're going to dump me!"

Millie could tell he was telling the truth. Now, she had a problem; but it wasn't a problem she couldn't resolve, and she would.

Chapter 5

"Well, how did it go," said Jill.

"Hmm, not all that good. Well, it did that is until this morning," said Millie.

"Well, gimme," said Jill.

"Well, I wanted Sam to say goodbye, you know to Jake. Well, I stood back, so he could do it without my being the force behind the effort, if you know what I mean. Well, big mistake on my part; they got into it. I am so glad Jake was in his cage, or Sam would be in the hospital or worse," said Millie.

"Wow!" said Jill

"Yeah, well now I have to see what the fallout of all of this is going to be. Sam's getting to be awfully pushy, and Jake's getting awfully antsy. I might have to do something down the line. Not sure yet," said Millie.

"Well, remember who you're married to, and why you stayed married to him even after he fucked up your lives. That's the key," said Jill.

Millie nodded.

"I'm gonna be in the same boat as you as of tonight," said Jill.

"I don't understand?"

"Daniel will be meeting Andy. Cross your fingers for me; I'm gonna need a lot of luck."

"Consider them crossed," said Millie.

******

Jill was home for the next few days before she'd have to get back to work in Nevada; she and Danny had some business to take care of. They were considering buying into Cupid's Escorts; it was almost a done deal. They had to meet with their accountant and their lawyer to judge the feasibility of the buy in.

But today she'd met Andy for cocktails as soon as she'd gotten back to town, and she had laid it on him that he had to meet Daniel. Though Andy wasn't keen, he had agreed to meet with him and do as Jill asked.

Andy arrived on time, 7:00. Daniel was in the bedroom tidying things up a bit for Jill and her lover. Daniel was slow to get into the cuckold lifestyle, but he was learning; He had to, he really wasn't interested in getting yet another spanking. His behind was still raw from the last one. For him as a black man, a spanking was the ultimate humiliation. He was supposed to be the head of the household, the man, numero uno; but to his dominant wife he was nothing but a wimp cuckold who moved his pussywhipped ass whenever her beautiful self commanded him to do so; it was that simple.

He'd heard the door bell ring and heard Jill greeting someone at the door. He knew who it was, and he was not ready.

He was mildly startled when Jill appeared in the doorway. "Those are nice panties you're wearing Danny. Pink is definitely your color." She giggled like a school girl at his embarrassment. She never got tired of giving him the needle and he was still not able to get used to being in front of her wearing her panties.

He shot her a sarcastic smile that dared her to spank him, but he knew she would not, not in front of her lover. He wasn't sure why she wouldn't, but she'd shied away from punishing him in those circumstances.

"Oh, come on Danny, you know you love it when I tease you," she said.

"Harrumph!" he said.

"Anyway, follow me," she said.

"Jill, do I hafta wear the panties to meet you lover; it is too embarrassing for words," said Daniel.

"Dear heart, that's the whole idea. Now, come on, be a good little cucky and hurry your ass up."

Daniel followed her into the living room and did his best to not appear stressed out and humiliated about his condition. His condition, his cock tenting his panties, was more than a sight to see. She'd let him out of his cock cage for the day, and it was proving to be worse than if he had it on.

"Danny, this is Andy. You've heard me talk about him: he's my lover. Say hello, Danny."

"Hi-hello," said Daniel. "Glad to meet you." Jill was happy with the way he handled himself: no smartass remarks or sour looks. She'd remember that the nest time he earned a spanking: he might get a pass.

"Hi," said Andy, "good to meet you too. You have a truly wonderful woman here."

"I do know that," said Daniel.

Most people can get a fix on what a person is like in the first minutes of meeting them. Daniel was, in some ways, more than pleased that the man who had been, and doubtless would continue to be cuckolding him, was at least respectful even though he must have thought he, Daniel, looked ridiculous in his panties.

Jill had decided to borrow a page from Millie book and give him the choice to watch her get it or not. Likewise he would get to choose the position that Andy would use to do her the first time around for the evening.

"One moment, Andy, I need to speak with my husband," she said. She led Daniel by his elbow into the hallway. "Danny, would you like to watch him do me? You can if you want."

Daniel was surprised and momentarily speechless, but he recovered his voice quickly enough. "I-I-don't know. I guess I would," he said.

"Okay, if that would please you. Now, would you prefer that he take me in any particular position? You can choose if you want too," she said.

"Doggy," said Daniel.

"Okay, you got it, big boy," she said. "You know what I have to do now, don't you?"

"Chain me up?"

"Yes, dear, I can't risk you losing it. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

She led him back into the living room.

"Andy, I'll only be a moment. Get yourself a drink and bring me one too, okay?"

"Right," he said. Andy disappeared into the kitchen. He knew where everything was. He'd been fucking this woman for the better part of two years.

"Come on big boy; we've rehearsed this," she said. The chair she had chosen she had actually brought from the dungeon room in the bordello where she worked in Nevada.

It was a simple, heavy, wooden straight back early American design. It sported three vertical one-inch thick dowels as the back. She sat him down and had him shove his wrists through the upright wooden bars of the back. She moved behind him and cuffed his wrists together making it impossible for him to use his hands for anything.

Her next move was to tie a rope around his neck and wind it through the chairs back as well.

As a final precaution, she bound his ankles to the legs of the chair with half-inch hemp.

She moved away from him for a moment. Returning, she smiled at him and kissed him. "You've been very good," she said, "but I am going to gag you too. You like to talk too much, and we can't have that tonight can we. Okay?" She fixed a ball gag into his mouth and strapped it tightly at the back of his head. Daniel could now watch, but that is all that he could do.

Andy's timing was perfect. He arrived with the drinks and a piece of pecan pie that he found in the frig as he was rummaging for something to end the growling in his stomach. She came to him and kissed him; her husband Daniel all but monetarily forgotten in the far corner of the room.

"Hungry were we?" said Jill.

"Gawd, yes, and your pecan pie's the best. You know better than to leave it where I could find it," he quipped.

"Funny," she said, not pleased with his being more interested in pie than pussy.

"I will be most interested," she said, "in knowing which you would prefer pecan pie or hair pie. Please, take your time answering!" Her sarcasm was palpable.

"Uh-oh, I fucked up didn't I?" he said.

"Let's put it this way, jackass, yes."

He put the pie down and came to her. "Can I make it up to you?"

"You fucking well better.

"I am going to let Danny watch. He's asked to be able to. So, do me good. Got it, or you'll feel the strap tonight; which he will also have the opportunity to witness.

Andy knew he was close to very much regretting his little faux pas. He silently swore to make up for it and that in a helluva hurry!

Andy guided his woman toward the couch. "No," she said. "He asked me to have you do me from behind. I said you would. You can have me any other way you want afterwards when we go into the bedroom. But this once I want you to do me doggy style right in front of him.

"Sure," said Andy, "if that's what you want; then, that's what we'll do."

She led Andy to a spot three feet in front of her husband. She stood in front of him, still fully clothed, and looked her husband in the eye. His eyes smoldered with lust. And well they might: he'd been caged for days until she released him for tonight. Her reason, as she had told him, was that she wanted to see his cock hard and pulsating as he watched Andy sock it to her. The past two mornings she'd found pre-cum oozing from his penis when she had awakened; she was going to let him cum tomorrow, she'd decided.

She turned back to her lover. They embraced and his hand floated to her butt. Daniel was in hell; he couldn't even scream his jealous distress; the gag had proved useful.

The two lovers pawed each other and kissed.

Little by little their clothes were discarded and soon the two of them were naked. Jill made Andy turn toward her husband. Andy's cock, a raging hardon by now, waved in front of the prisoner in his chair. The two of them were beautiful standing there, their naked and taunting bodies held in an almost artistic pose.

She turned and kissed her lover. He stood immediately behind her; he was looking straight into the prisoner's eyes. Pressing gently on her shoulders, he forced her to her knees, and then onto all fours. He knelt behind her. Bending forward he buried his face in her ass and licked and kissed and sucked every secret place she had. Jill, looked up into the face of her suffering husband and saw that he was crying. She silently mouthed the words, "you'll get your reward." It seemed to make him less desperate.

Andy stopped orally sodomizing her and spread her legs wider thus lowering her ass, readying her for her fucking. She was wet as could be now. He pushed into her and there was a noticeable popping sound as he gained entry. He fucked her for ten minutes. Her face began to show signs that she was in ecstasy as he humped her.

She began to pant and spasm. Spit dribbled from the side of her mouth as her lover mastered her.

Andy began driving his cock into her with a cruelty that a Viking would have envied. She collapsed flat on the floor with his cock still buried deep inside of her and her lover heavily covering her naked form.

Daniel was sweating and crying and straining to escape his bonds, but that would only happen if his wife were to allow it; she was not going to allow it; he was condemned to jealous impotence.

Jill rose and went into the bathroom. She returned wearing her robe. She uncuffed her husband's wrists and he pulled them through the vertical bars on the back of her chair. She recuffed them behind his back as soon as they were clear.

She loosed the neck restraint and then freed his ankles. She also removed his gag after he promised to remain silent as she continued her work. "Come on husband. We need to go out into the garage."

In the garage, she uncuffed him and caged him. It was the same size and type of cage that her friend's husband had occupied the night before. But, Daniel's prison was on short legs rather than attached to a hoist.

"I will return in the morning, Danny. "Try and sleep a little. I love you." And she was gone.

Daniel was left to imagine how and how often her lover would fuck her and how and how often she would suck his cock. Jealous could not even begin to describe his mind set.

******

Millie had decided to let Jake cool off a little before she said anymore about the confrontation between himself and Sam the day before. It was Monday night, three days later before she brought it up again.

She'd talked to Sam, who'd seemed a little peeved, but more with her than with Jake, if she had read him rightly. This did not sit well with her, but she allowed that she might be reading him wrong. She made a mental note to clarify things with him after she had had a chance to sit with Jake and to see what he had to say.

Jake had just arrived from the shop and was putting his dirty work shirt into the hamper on the service porch.

"How was it today," said Millie in her sweetest tone of voice.

"Same," he said. "Nothin' special, just a couple of cars that needed doctoring."

"Jake, we need to talk. And, I need some straight answers from you."

"Huh?"

"About the trouble with Sam the other morning."

"Oh," he said.

"Now, I know that Sam was at fault too for saying the things that he did. I believe you not him when it comes to that," she said.

"So, what else is there?" he said, obviously considering the matter closed.

"What else is there! What there is, is that you were rude to him too," she said "That is unacceptable. He is my lover, not just some one night stand, and you simply may not talk back to my lover, you may not," she emphasized.

"What! What kind of fairness is that?" he said. "I'll tell you what kind it is: it's 'not' fair, not at all."

"Fair has nothing to do with it, Jake. What I want is everything. You will have to apologize to him, Jake, I insist on it."

"What did you say?"

"You will have to apologize to him, and mean it, or else," said Millie. She bit her tongue after she said the last words, but it was too late to take them back.

"Or else? And what if I refuse," he said, his voice rising.

"Jake, don't push this. It was you who gave me permission to fuck other men. It was you who screwed up our lives. It was you who couldn't be trusted to not be locked up the other night. You will apologize to him. He took care of me when you weren't around. He's a good man. Mistaken in what he said to you, but he was less at fault than you if you look at the whole picture." Her voice conveyed a tone that was conciliatory; she wanted to distance herself from her earlier stinging remark that she was afraid had hurt him.

"How do you figure?" said Jake.

"Simple, he gets to fuck me; but you get to be married to me. He wants to marry me, but you have me. So, you mustn't push it," said Millie.

"Are you saying that you'd divorce me and marry him if I refused to apologize to him?" said Jake.

"I didn't say that, you did," she said, her tone rising again.

"Is he gonna apologize to me?"

"It doesn't matter what he's gonna do. You just pay heed to what you've gotta do," she said.

"That's bull shit! Ah fuck it!" he yelled, storming out of the room.

For Jake, apologizing to the guy who was trying to take his wife away from him was beyond the pale. If it weren't for the fact that he'd be sent back to prison, he would have blown town that minute. His heart was broken; his wife was taking the side of someone who had no right to come between them. He would do anything she asked of him. The only exception to that was that he would not knuckle under to threats, not even from the love of his life.

He was sick to his stomach. He felt like he was going to puke, but so far he had been spared that particular self-imposed indignity.

He went out to the back yard and leaned against the fence, face towards it. The sun was setting and he wanted to be alone to think and brood; brooding was underrated. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that what she really wanted was to marry the asshole. She was just looking for a way to justify betraying him and all of her former promises. He made his decision.

Millie watched him through the kitchen window. She was frightened when he started pounding the fence with his fists. As he turned and moved back toward the general direction of the house, his bleeding knuckles were clearly visible. She was shaken by the sight. It was not the right time to try and make up with him.

He was being so unreasonable; he might, at that moment, even be dangerous, she thought. She started to cry. Just a simple, "I'm sorry," was all she was asking for. Just something to bring them all together again as a trio. But that wasn't going to happen at that moment. Maybe tomorrow, she told herself.

She felt funny about her husband. He wasn't acting like the man she knew. But then, she wasn't acting like the woman she used to be either. She'd try again tomorrow. Maybe she had gone too far demanding that he apologize. He'd suffered enough humiliation. Yes, tomorrow, she'd tell him to forget that part of it. She did love him. She just had to figure out some way to prove it to him. Jill was right; a wife who wanted to keep her husband happy, especially a cuckold husband, had to make damn sure that he never doubted that he was loved and appreciated. She'd failed in that. Why had she threatened him! Geezsus, she'd been so stupid.

She looked out the window again. He wasn't there. Maybe he'd come back into the house-but, she hadn't heard him.

******

She found him in the garage. He was working with some tool doing something with a piece of wood. She knew nothing about tools or how to use them. She just looked at him, he looked back at her; neither said anything. That made up his mind for him.

She just went back into the house and lay down on the couch. She'd make dinner in due course. She wondered if he'd eat it. Surely he wouldn't stay mad all night, surely not.

She fell soundly asleep.

It was 2:00AM when she woke. The house was dark. She wondered where Jake was. He must be upstairs already. She should be too, she thought. She went to the bathroom and peed. She showered. It was after 2:30 before she climbed the stairs to their bedroom. She was wearing only her panties and bra. He oughta be pretty horny; maybe she'd let him play a little if he was up to it. She was, quite frankly, feeling guilty.

The room was dark. It was quiet, too quiet. She turned on the light. The bed was still made. He was not in the room, and he was not downstairs. She didn't panic, but she walked quickly down to the back yard; then to the garage; then to the front yard. "Oh my gawd!" she exclaimed.

******

She sat on the stoop like one drugged and uncaring about the starving children of the world. The phone had rung any number of times since dawn. She no longer cared about phones or people or anything. Millie Carson was in a state.

Jill was on her way into town. She'd taken the week off within an hour of having picked up her mail. She figured to arrive sometime around midday. She'd tried to call Millie a dozen times since getting her mail at something after 8:00. She stopped trying; she was going to hunt her down. If she were fucking Sam, or if Jake was sucking her pussy; she didn't care. They had to talk and that right fucking immediately!

She pulled into the driveway of her friend's house and honked to announce her arrival. She had good news and she didn't give a damn what anyone thought or said. Daniel was with her and looking real pleased with himself as well he might given the circumstances of the moment.

She knocked on the door for some minutes. Millie's car was there. Jill had become quite the expert on cars since her husband had gone into the slam and had made it necessary for her to get a license, and then a car, and then a subscription-who would believe it-to Road and Track.

But, cars and magazines were the last things on her mind this wonderful morning; she wanted to talk to Millie; she had to!

The door opened slowly. It was dim and cold in the front room of the house as she was allowed to enter by the semi-conscious Millie.

"Millie? What's wrong?" said an anxious Jill.

Millie looked at her as though she were a perfect stranger. Something was amiss and Jill was not going to be shy about getting to the bottom of it.

"Millie, damn it wake up!" she said to the woman in the trance.

Millie seemed to stir at the tone in her friend's voice. "He's gone."

"What? Who's gone?" said Jill.

"Jake. He's gone. He just left me. No note, nothing, just gone." She started crying.

"Geezsus, Millie. Did he leave because he knew he had gotten an unconditional pardon?"

"What? What pardon?" said Millie.

"The governor, the parole board, the DC all of them have signed off on our men's amnesty," said Jill. "Haven't you gotten your letter? Jake's letter?"

"What letter?"

Jill turned to Daniel. "Husband, go check the mailbox. Right now, honey, move!"

Jill did her best to comfort her friend. Daniel returned in no more than a minute; he was carrying a pile of paper: mostly junk mail. Jill rifled through it searching for the letter.

"Yes!" said Jill. "Here it is." She handed it to Millie. Millie looked at it like it was something from outer space. It had the state seal on the envelope.

She slowly opened it. She held the contents between her fingers without reading it as though it were contaminated.

Jill grabbed it from her and scanned it. "Millie, your hubby is a free man!

"Danny, get her a drink of water, please," said Jill, glancing up at her cuck.

He moved to do her bidding. He returned in short order. "Here, you are, Millie," he said.

Hearing Danny's voice for the first time seemed to revive her. She sipped the icy liquid and leaned on Jill's shoulder and began to cry.

This was going to be along day, thought Jill.

It was a good hour of crying and comforting later that Jill was finally able to get Millie to calm down enough to get some coherency in her speech.

"Yes, I did," said Millie. "I drove him off. It was a stupid request-no that's not true-it wasn't a request; I ordered him to apologize. One thing led to another and he stormed out in to the yard." She pointed, indicating the back yard. "I know he thinks I was favoring Sam. I wasn't, Jill. It was just-I think-I think I was trying to save Sam the embarrassment of being lower on the lovey-dovey food chain than Jake. I don't know; I just wanted them to be equal, different but equal. I did it wrong, but I didn't mean to," she said.

"There, there, honey. We'll get the big guy back. We just have to think clearly, not panic," said Jill.

"Jill, you don't understand. He doesn't love me anymore. I betrayed his love, his trust. I mean he thinks I did. He won't be back," said Millie.

"Millie, girl, he'll be back if I have to kidnap him myself," said Jill. "Just get hold of yourself. I need you to be coherent. Okay?"

Millie nodded. It was clear she was not confident that what Jill was saying had any hope of being true, but she had nothing else and so she was surrendering.

"Did he take any of his clothes? He doesn't have a driver's license I know that, and he sure doesn't have a passport. He can't get far," said Jill. "We'll get him. I know we will. After all, we're women, and we still have at least one slave her to help us." She smiled motioning toward Daniel.

******

At that moment a tall good looking man, late twenties, clean shaven, brown hair, jeans, dark shirt, bomber jacket was thumbing his way south. He'd made it a hundred miles in the ten or so hours since he'd run out on his wife. He had twenty-eight dollars in his pocket. He was sad, angry, tired, and totally fatalistic. If a car were to have hit him right at that moment, he would have thanked the driver; he wanted to die.

Jill, Millie, Andy, and Daniel sat at the kitchen table and analyzed the situation.

"We gotta play it cool, mother-in-law. And you have got to stop beating yourself up. You did nothing really wrong. You might have not been very smart about how you handled the little altercation between Sam and Jake, but your heart was in the right place. Jake just didn't know it. And, from what you've told me, I would guess that Sam didn't either."

"Millie," said Danny in a low voice, "may I make an observation."

"Sure Danny. Oh, and congtrats on your amnesty. I'm very happy for you, really," said Millie.

"Thanks, I am happy and the more so because I have this wonderful girl here to love and to serve and to take care of me forever," said Danny.

"Anyway," he continued, "you know what we talked about when we were inside? You guys," he said not waiting for an answer. "Every stinkin' day we were in there, we talked about you. Jake couldn't wait to get back to you. He wouldn't even let me put a calendar on the wall because it seemed to him to make the days go slower.

I know, without a shadow of a question or a doubt that he will come back. His pride is hurt and it was damn near all we had in the joint. Pride for losers like us is all we got; and I have to say it Millie; it's a very fragile thing with us. It may be childish, but it's all we got. Do yuh understand?" he said.

Millie nodded and did her best to hold back her tears.

Daniel continued. "He won't give it up easily, but one day he'll shit-can his pride and come back to you on his knees. Frankly, I know him better in some ways than you do; and you can take that to the bank."

Jill nodded. She knew that Danny was right.

"Mother-in-law, we just gotta play it cool," said Jill. "No one knows he left the house before he was supposed to. So we just have to look and wait and do what we have to do until we can locate him and talk some sense into him."

Millie looked at her friend as though she had slapped her.

"Gently of course," said Jill, catching the look.

Millie nodded. "I wonder if he has heard that he's free man. Oh Jill, if he hasn't, he may do something bad. I'm worried, Jill. I am really worried about him."

******

Millie was standing behind the counter sacking the groceries of the Mrs. Ralston, the little old lady across from her. Millie was tired and not the smiling happy face the customer was used to seeing.

"What's the matter, honey, boy problems," said the elderly lady.

Millie forced herself to crack a small smile for the lady who was clearly trying to support her. "Yes, ma'am, 'fraid so," she said.

"Well, don't you fret over no man." she said. "He'll be back. He won't be wantin' to lose you. I know."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Millie. And then the lady waved a goodbye and was gone.

Sam saw the exchange and came up behind her and gave her a small pinch on her butt. It was bad timing.

"What are you doing, Sam?" she said.

"Just tryin' to lighten things up a little between us," he said. "Got time for a bite after work?"

"No, Sam, not tonight. I'm gonna be busy," she said.

"Millie, I said I was sorry for acting like an idiot before. But that was three weeks ago. Any chance I can get you to lighten up?" he said.

"Lighten up? No, Sam, I don't think so. In fact, Sam, I don't want to see you again," she said.

"But we work together, and I love you. I think I've proven that. I've done everything I could to make up for my mistake," he said.

She looked at him as though he were a interloper, a stranger who just didn't get it. "Sam, don't take this the wrong way. We had some good times there for a while, but they're over now, and they're not coming back. We're done, Sam, you and me. And, Sam, I quit; you can send me my final check. The office has the address.

She removed her apron, pulled her cash drawer, counted it out on the spot, and had him initial her chit for the cash. She handed him the drawer and walked out. She didn't turn around or even wave goodbye to her fellow employees: people she'd worked with for the past two years plus.

******

She sat in the dark. She'd saved some cash. But, she well knew that she couldn't survive for more than a couple for months without working. She had been sitting in the dark considering her options for a full two hours before she finally made up her mind.

She'd been out of work for two days and the only thing she knew for sure, apart from the cold fact that she needed a job, was that she needed a friend who would be there for her while she did what she could to track down her scoundrel of a husband.

Millie was alternately angry, afraid, and sorrowful, all contributing to the emotionally draining state that gripped her virtually 24/7. This had been the case since her husband Jake had taken a powder over three weeks earlier.

Jill had remained with Millie for a week and half, but had eventually been forced to return to Nevada to take care of business: a business that she and Daniel had indeed bought into.

Alone Millie was lost. Her man gone; her friend far away, and her job now history. She thought about Sam and the reason she felt she had to send him packing: he wanted her to dump her husband and move in with him. That he also had dared to mess with Jake on a personal level was just the final straw. In front of her he had dared to mess with him! It was very fortunate that Jake had been locked up or Sam would have been in way over his head.

She shook herself. "Do it," she said aloud to no one but the walls. She picked up the receiver and dialed Jill's number. It rang several times before Jill answered.

"It's me," said Millie… "yeah… no… nothing new… I need to talk to you… yes… tomorrow… I'll come to you… well, let's put it this way: is that job offer still open… Jill… are you still there… yes I'm serious… two PM… yes, that's good." She hung up.

******

The desert was flat and brown and hot; the way it had been for the last hundred thousand years. She'd been in the saddle, except for a pit stop to have lunch and pee, for more than six hours. She found the address: 615 Desert Glade, easily.

She sat parked for some minutes before she got out and headed for the nondescript entrance to the place. It was new. Jill had told her that. They'd moved and changed the whole operation; she and Daniel were even part owners now, with her "used to be" pimp.

The business: Cupid's Escorts, was doing well. Jill didn't spread her legs anymore, not for the riff-raff at any rate; instead she got a piece of all of the action from the girls that did. She was pulling down $20,000 a month. The girls didn't do badly either. The good ones were getting somewhere near $10,000 a month and happy as heck about it.

Millie was feeling a little shaky, but she was going to give the operation a look see. Though interested, she was not at all sure a career on her back would be a good fit for her; even though sex had become her favorite game.

She pushed the buzzer and someone buzzed her into an antechamber. At the end of a narrow, ten-foot long passage was a barred window. A girl was waiting for her as she approached.

"Hi, I'm Millie Carson to see Jill Reynolds."

The girl's smile was genuine now. She buzzed her into the inner sanctum and led her down a brightly lit hallway at the end of which was an office. They entered.

Jill looked up and fairly jumped out of her chair to greet her soulsister. "My gawd, girl, you must be exhausted. You got here in less than seven hours."

"Yeah, and I gotta pee. I've been on the road for the last four hours in a row," she said.

"In there," said Jill, pointing. Jill looked toward the girl who had escorted Millie in and waved her gone. Millie was already closing the door to the privy.

They talked for two hours straight. "No, not a word," said Millie. "I guess I really have lost him. I have to get back into the world of the living, I guess, there's just nothing for it. It was my fault. I deserved to lose him, and so I have."

"For the last time, princess, you are not at fault. We all say things we don't mean and would like to take back, all of us. He did what he did because he felt hurt or humiliated or whatever; but by any standard, he overreacted, and that is the long and the short of it."

"Maybe," said Millie.

"Okay, enough of that for now," said Jill. "Are you serious about wanting into the life?"

"Yes. I've thought about it. I like sex. I like the money. It's time to do something besides pound a cash register," she said.

Jill looked pensive. "Girl, now you need to hear me. Okay?"

"Sure," said Millie.

"Okay. You want the job, you've got it. But, you need to understand a few things. First, you can be selective of your clientele to a certain extent. But, no matter how selective you are, Guys are still going to be banging you that you wish were not banging you. It's the nature of the business. And, if there ever was a business where the customer was always right, this is it."

"Okay," said Millie tentatively.

"And, the money is good, but you have costs too. Med-checks, drugs-the legal kind-and the occasional bruise or broken bone because some asshole couldn't control himself; it happens.

"Also, this is a business, mother-in-law. I can't emphasize that enough. We pay well, but we have to insist that our girls are always on time always personable and always open to-well-the kinks that our customers are looking for.

"This business is not for those married to vanilla sex. We're into excitement, the unusual, and even the profane."

"I just have one question," said Millie.

"And what would that be?" said Jill.

"When can I start?"

Jill smirked. "Tonight, if you're up to it. If not tomorrow," said Jill.

"Last I heard it's the guy who does most of the work. I'll be starting tonight, and I will be doing my level best not to fall asleep while some guy is fucking me," she said.

"I like your attitude," said Jill. "Sleep is for the weak anyway."

The two friends laughed the laugh of recovering sad persons. Jill made an intercom call to someone up front telling them to arrange a special date for the newbie.

******

The girls went shopping. Millie was surprised by the kinds of things that Jill was choosing for her first night on her back as a pro.

"Kind of conservative isn't it?" said Millie looking at herself in the mirror of the dressing room.

"What it is, is not whorish," said Jill. "Most men don't really want some scuzzbucket doing them. They want clean and wholesome and utterly weak and helpless. They want to take the panties off of a young girl and comfort her as she cries; then, of course, they wanna bone the hell outta her and pretend that they did her a favor, an honor really," said Jill.

"Huh. Well, I've been warned. I will take the good with the bad and never complain," said Millie.

"Good," said Jill. "Now hurry up. We gotta get outta here. Your first fuck is 8:00 and the gentleman I've set you up with is not gonna be real interested in hearing your reasons for being late."

"What's he like?" said Millie.

"He's young, inexperienced, and jittery. You're gonna be his first. Oh, and he has some special requests."

Millie listened as Jill described the young man's fantasies, and the story as to how he ended up at Cupid's. "Geezsus, a fucking babyass wimp! Couldn't I just get some stud to fuck me all night," laughed Millie.

"Yes, but not tonight. This is an all nighter. I did you a favor by giving you someone you can easily control. But the big thing is this; remember you work for us now. We need clients like this and so do you. His parents own the Lucky-T Ranch. Which as it happens is a misnomer; at least it is in this era."

"Whaddya mean?" said Millie.

"Well it might have been a ranch at one time, maybe a hundred years ago. But, now it's seventy-five square miles of oil fields, some of the richest in the country; their billionaires. And Melvin is their baby-literally," said Jill.

Millie nodded. It was strange, what the kid wanted, but no problem for her. It looked to be a piece of cake.

"Just play it by ear," said Jill. "You're his baby sitter, and you need to babysit him and take care of him, and well, be his surrogate love interest. Think you can handle that?"

"No problem. Question: do we get a lot of clients like Melvin?"

"We are in the fantasy business. Like I said, vanilla we ain't," said Jill.

******

Jill looked over all of the things she had been supplied with to fulfill Melvin Cort's crazy fantasy. But, she wasn't being judgmental. After all, she'd fulfilled a few fantasies of hers and her husband's in the not too distant past. A hypocrite was not something she either liked very much or ever intended to become.

She checked herself in the full length mirror that Jill had assured her were to be found in every room in the house.

Hair in a ponytail, pink ribbon holding it back; pink pinafore dress; saddle oxfords and bobbysox; pink lipstick and a little pearl necklace completed the ensemble. She looked sixteen. Her little cutie for the evening was supposed to be twenty, but wanted to be treated like a little boy. So, she would treat him like a little boy.

He was right on time. Millie was taken aback by the wimpy nature of her charge. Jill had cautioned her that she was to be in charge from moment one. "Ask him no questions," Jill had said. "You're his babysitter for real; that is for the rest of the night. And when he leaves in the morning, you are to dress him and send him on his way as if he were going to walk to school. Oh, and he is supposed to be incontinent, and that's in real life, so you will have to change his diapers if he pees in them."

Melvin came in looking sheepish and clutching a little brown teddy bear. "Hi, Melvin," she cooed. She gave him a little hug and kissed him on the top of his head: Melvin was only five-foot-two.

She cuddled with him as he played with his teddy bear and from time to time brushed her breasts against his arm as though by accident. He was indeed wearing diapers, but up to that point he had not wet himself.

"I think it's time for your bath, Melvin," she said.

The smile that painted his face was worth the price of admission, thought Millie. She stripped him slowly of his breeches and when she pulled down his underpants, she was witness to one of the smallest penises that she had ever seen or ever imagined she would see. "Let's go peepee first, my little man," she said. She sat him on the toilet seat and watched with interest as his little weenie went tingle. "Now, Get in the tub, baby, we need to get you nice and clean."

She gave him a slow bath and paid close attention to his little penis. And she thought of it as a penis, not a cock, a cock was an instrument of lust. A penis was a biological tool useful for necessary physiological functions. His little dong was not by any wildass stretch of the imagination an engine of lust.

As she washed it she could tell that his ball sac was loaded. The little guy needed to cum. She lightened her stroke washing him. He kept thrusting himself against the flesh of her hands wordlessly trying to get her to work her fingers a little more vigorously, but she denied him. She knew her business: big dick or little penis the light touch of a woman's hand was far more effective than any rough gruff meat beating that the male animal always thought was the way to get the job done.

After twenty minutes of insane physical duress, as Melvin doubtless viewed the handjob he was getting, he suddenly spasmed breathlessly and began jerking uncontrollably. His semen painted the far wall of the bathtub enclosure. Millie wondered how long he had been holding it in. Eensy-teensy peepee or not he could sure unload the spermatozoa when he needed to.

Melvin almost passed out from the exercise.

She took her "little lost lamb" to bed with her, and twice during the night had to change him. He loved it as she laid him on the protective waterproof sheet, removed his diapers, wiped him clean of his urine, powered his pink little butt, and pinned his new diaper on him expertly. Expertly, in spite of the fact that Millie had never in her life changed a diaper; apparently changing diapers was something that came naturally to a woman, or so she supposed.

In the morning, she sent him off to "school" clutching his Teddy bear. But he didn't walk. The limo that picked her little fellow up saw to that.

Millie met Jill for breakfast an hour after Melvin departed. "How did it go, do you know," said Millie.

"Well enough I guess. The driver laid ten thousand dollars in cash on us, and asked that you be available next week for an encore."

"Wow! My first show and already I'm in demand," said Millie.

"Indeed," said Jill.

Chapter 6

Jake stared at the overhang. MEXICO it said. He knew if he crossed the border, being a con, that the FBI could nail him and his life would be over. On the other hand, what did he have to live for anyway? Prison came in many forms. The prison of the mind was the worst of all. Millie was obviously distancing herself from him and giving herself to another man. He knew that a divorce would soon be forced upon him, and he just couldn't bear the thought of that. No, it was better for him to make himself scarce. I would be easier for him and for her, for his beloved Millie.

At least, he thought, he hadn't debased himself by apologizing to that wife stealing scumbag. At least he hadn't done that; he'd at least been able to save what little pride and self-respect and dignity he had left in refusing to do that. That was one thing that he would not do even for Millie. Why had she sided with him? It could only be because she loved him more than she did him, her husband.

He crossed. Nobody paid him any attention as he walked under the overhang and headed for downtown Tijuana, for a new life, for he knew not what. The day was warm. Somewhere along his path he would need to get something to drink, and maybe a taco or something.

Independencia Blvd. was busy. Shops busy, hawkers, kids everywhere, Americanos shooting pictures of everything in sight: it was a helluva scene. Two little boys came up to him trying to sell him sticks of gum. He ignored them.

Jake knew he had to find shelter and a job in a hurry. He had exactly eleven bucks after his two-hundred and fifty mile trek. The main boulevard was not the place to find what he needed, he knew. He decided to turn down one of the numerous side streets and get into a more residential area. He saw a lady carrying a large gunnysack full of groceries. For no good reason whatsoever he followed her; he'd let her blaze the trail for him.

As she neared a corner of another almost deserted side street, a punk jumped out in front of her and flashed a switchblade in her face. She turned and started to walk-run back towards Jake. The asshole followed her; her flight was futile; she couldn't really escape him even if she hadn't been carrying fifteen pounds of groceries.

The three of them met up all at once. Jake stepped between the punk and the woman; he was actually glad for the opportunity to do something positive. The punk had a knife, but had no idea who or what Jake was capable of. That singular lack of knowledge was remedied in short order. The punk lay sprawled on the street. Jake took the knife, bent it in half and pitched it into the tall grass of the nearby field.

The woman's mouth just hung open in awestruck silence.

"You okay, senora?" said Jake.

She shook herself.

"Gratias," she said.

He smiled. His Spanish was limited to what he'd picked up in the joint. He felt good taking down the punk. Her relief was made him realize that he still had value as a human being: he wasn't just so much flesh and blood adrift in the maelstrom of life. He decided to test the waters.

"Do you speak English?" he said.

"Pequeno," she said.

"Bueno," he said. "Mi trabajo?" he tried.

She understood he wanted a job. She pointed down the street to her left. "Si trabajo," she said.

Grateful for the directions, he started off in the direction she indicated.

She stopped him. "Senor follow," she said in strained English.

He shrugged and followed her. About half way down the block he offered to carry the groceries, and she let him.

Her name was Lorena Gomez. She led him to her house. It was a good half mile from where he had first seen her. Arriving at the house, she took the groceries from him and indicated that she wanted Jake to follow her inside. Hoping for a bowl of something and for anything to drink, he did so.

"Aqua?" he said, actually sounding desperate.

She laughed and got him his water. She also put on a pot of water and began making some tea.

He brought him his tea in a matter of two minutes.

As she prepared the food, something that looked kinda like beef stew, he looked her over more closely.

She was maybe forty, her hair was stringy, but longish, her skin was weathered, but the signs of once rather significant good looks could not be denied. She was about five-foot-two, and she was beginning to show signs of becoming a little bit chunky; but for that she still had a ways to go. All in all, had she taken better care of herself, she would have been a fairly handsome woman with many prospects. It was only much later that Jake discovered that she was all of forty-eight years old; it surprised him.

She finished preparing the mal and they ate. They talked, but the speech was halting and it was a struggle to communicate in any depth. Still, Jake decided that he liked the woman. He had the thought that she was acting as though she liked him as well.

"Un senor," said Jake wondering if she was married. He'd half decided she was not since the house showed no evidence of anyone of the male persuasion.

"No husband," she said in English. Things were looking up for him, he decided.

"Uh-sleep the night?" he said, pantomiming the act of sleeping.

"Si," she said. She pointed to the bed along the far wall. The little house had only the one room.

Jake made a show of saying no and pointed to a corner of the room where he intended to sleep. He was tired, but not tired enough to take the woman's bed.

She laughed. "No, no," she said. "We." She pointed first to herself and then at him and then at the bed. She wanted him to sleep with her!

He shrugged his shoulders in mock surrender and smiled his most benign smile at her.

"Los Banos?" he said.

She smiled again. She opened the back door and pointed to a small structure abut fifty yards to the rear of the little house.

"An outhouse," he said, looking at her with a degree of surprise if not outright disbelief.

She laughed hugely, "Si," she said. "Outhouse."

"When in Rome," he muttered, as he made the trek to relieve himself.

He returned from doing his business in minutes and was no sooner in the house than she pointed to the soap on the sink and pantomimed washing her hands.

He got the idea and washed up.

******

It was maybe three or four hours later, she had no clock that she motioned him to strip for bed. He was slow to start, and she started unbuttoning his pants herself; she jumped back when she saw his cock cage.

"Madre Dios!" she intoned.

"My wife," he said.

"Wife?"

"Si," he said. "She made me."

Lorena slowly shook her head in disbelief. She took his imprisoned cock in her hands and looked at the device critically. She dropped his penis and went to the bevy of shelves on the far wall where everything she owned was stored. She came back with a pair of heavyweight scissors. She cut the nylon straps encircling his scrotum and slid the tube off of his manhood.

Naked and free of his cock cage, she massaged him for a moment and led him to her sleeping couch.

The night was cold, and they cuddled for warmth. Soon she was massaging his cock more vigorously and inevitably it became hard as steel. He fucked her. He treated her gently at first not knowing her limits, but soon he was hammering her vagina like a riveter.

Lorena choked back sobs as the two of them shuddered to a climax. Jake, for his part was thrilled to be with the woman. She wasn't his wife, but his wife had decided to dump him. Lorena couldn't replace Millie, no one could, but for the time being he would play house with Lorena if she'd let him. Things could be worse he thought but didn't say.

Over the next two weeks several things came to light. First, he was immediately hired by Hanson Shoes, a factory close to the house, that produced low cost sneakers for the world market. His skills at mechanics and being a gringo willing to work for three dollars an hour, made him invaluable. This was the factory that Lorena had been pointing to on that first afternoon when they'd met. He was also employed to do liaison with Norte Americanos who had questions or wanted to make large purchases.

Second, he discovered why a relatively sweet woman like Lorena was single. It turned out to be a couple of reasons. First she was barren. Her live-in partner, they had never married, had brutalized her and eventually had hurt her so badly that her female plumbing was ruined forever. Jake felt a quiet rage come over him when he heard that. And, secondly, she had at one time been a prostitute and was therefore damaged goods. She had no children, no money of any significance, and only a life of quiet desperation to look forward to, as George Santayana had phrased it.

Finally, the question he'd asked himself for some days before he'd finally been satisfied with an answer was: why had she taken him in? It seems that after he had slaughtered the impotent punk on that first day; she had hoped that she could convince him to stray and be her protector. She had been raped twice in the past three years: the length of time since her quitting the streets. Plus, there was the threat that when her ex-live-in finally got out of prison, where he'd been since the last time he'd beaten her into insensibility, he might return to reclaim her and she did not have any intention of being reclaimed.

It was quite a smorgasbord of needs and problems this woman had. But, he was just the guy to help her out while at the same time achieving a roof over his head and fodder for his belly. It was win-win for the two of them. Add to all of the above the more than adequate sex, and Jake was ready to settle in for the long haul.

******

The Job at the shoe factory was a busy one, but not all that hard overall. The learning curve was only moderately steep, and by the end of the first year Jake was a promoted. The promotion was a name only thing in terms of responsibilities, but it carried with it a decent raise, that is for Mexico. At any rate he was able to finally put away some savings in the Banco National de Mexico.

He was paying all of the bills at the house: rent, food, clothes. Lorena was grateful and showed him how much virtually every night unless he was too gassed after a long day to get it up.

Things were going well, for Jake, but there was hardly an hour that he didn't think of his wife-probably his ex-wife-and how she might be doing.

Lorena had caught him crying more than once. Being a perceptive woman she knew the signs. Her new man was hurting and longing for his woman. She would comfort him at the right time, but he was a man; he had to be a man and act like one.

Jake couldn't spend his entire life in the factory or in the little house on Diablo Street. He had discovered a tacky little bar cum whorehouse called the Blue Fox. When he was feeling exceptionally mellow he hung out there. The first few times the whores propositioned him mercilessly: he was a gringo, and gringos paid-usually too much. But, after a while they had come to know he was there to hang out and drink a little and then go home, probably to a woman. More than one of the whores considered applying for the job themselves: he was handsome and apparently employed. What else did a girl need?

*******

For months Lorena and Jack kept up their housekeeping relationship. But more and more Jake was thinking of Millie and the last time he'd seen her in the garage. He hadn't been able to handle the humiliation of her demand to apologize to Sam. But after two years, the shock of her demands and the pain of his hurt had dulled. He was thinking of going back.

He wasn't sure about what he would do if he went back. He knew he would likely end up in prison for jumping the border and leaving the confines of his home. If Millie didn't want him, and he was all but certain that she didn't, he would walk away and never come back. His life would be over regardless. It was likely over already, but because the words between them had never actually been said, he felt he needed the closure. As illogical as it seemed, he needed the closure; all this he had decided. But, there was one other concern: Lorena. She had helped him in his hour of need. He could not just walk away and leave her.

True, he had been the bread winner for her for the past two years. But, if he left her now, she might be in trouble. She'd been in trouble two years before. Finding him had been the solution of the moment then. But now, at age fifty, she faced the increasingly unlikely probability that she would find a suitable man to take care of her. Jake, just couldn't up and leave her high and dry.

One good thing that he had managed to do for himself in the time he'd been in Tijuana, was to build a good work record on the job. He had become close friends with Homer Lazlow, another gringo, and a lawyer, who handled the legal niceties of NAFTA for the firm. He was looking for a reliable bilingual secretary to assist him.

Homer, who was nearing sixty, had recently been the victim of a devastating divorce. His wife had been cheating on him-the reality of which he had been completely in the dark about- and between her and her lover had robbed him of almost everything he had and had then had the temerity to try and hurt him even worse in the divorce proceedings.

Jake and Homer had shared many evenings at the Blue Fox commiserating with each other over their respective betrayals by their wives.

"Homer," said Jake, "I think I have someone I would like you to meet."

"Not tonight, Jake, I'm feeling kinda low," said Homer.

"I know. Trust me I am in exactly the same place as are you," said Jake.

"Who?"

"It's a lady. Homer, hear me out. You need someone; shit, both of us do. But I might have the perfect fit for you if you're willing to give it a shot," said Jake.

"Again, who?" said Homer.

"Her name's Lorena," said Jake.

"Lorena! Are you talking about your squeeze? The seniorita you've been shacking up with," said Homer.

"Yes, but she's not my squeeze in the way you mean it. But she is a wonderful woman. And, she is not the betraying kind. You're a good man, Homer. You didn't deserve what your ex did to you. Lorena could do it for you: make you happy," he said.

"You've bedded her?" said Homer. "Right?"

"Yes, regularly. It's very good too. But, we do it because we need it. Both of us knew from the beginning that sooner or later it would end."

"I've never met her, what does she look like?" said Homer.

"She's pretty of course. Prettier than you by a damn sight," laughed Jake.

"Set up the meet," said Homer.

"Okay, but treat her right, Homer. She's had some hard times same as you; she doesn't need anymore."

******

Jake and Lorena talked long into the night and then slept.

In the morning a timid Lorena followed her man to the fancy hotel in the center of town where Homer had indicated he wanted to meet with them. Jake had arranged to get the hell outta the way in due course, and let Homer take it from there. If, that was, the proposed match seemed to have some legs.

The breakfast done, Jake excused himself. He had gotten the high sign from Homer.

Lorena looked at his retreating form. "He leaving isn't he?" she said. "I mean for good."

Homer felt a small pang of jealousy about Jake. If he could only find a woman who would feel that sad about him leaving, life would begin to have some meaning for him.

"Yes, I think so," said Homer.

"Lorena, you and I are in the same place," said Homer. "In the hour we've shared here, I will admit to being taken with you: the way you think and talk and look and smell. Lorena, neither of us are spring chickens, but this old rooster is by no means through, and if I am any judge; and I like to think that I am; we could make a go of this."

"Maybe," she said. Her English in her two years with Jake had vastly improved.

"Lorena, here's the deal. I need an assistant. The pay isn't bad, and has some benefits. You get the job if you want it; Jake has told me a lot about you and at least to that degree, you and I are a good fit.

"Then, and I don't want to waste time mincing words here, as I said you have captivated me. I'd like to think that we might have some hope of making a go of it relationship-wise. I have my stateside social security and another retirement package when I leave this job in another eight years. I used to have more, but my ex-wife fucked me over pretty good. Anyway, if a relationship does not work for us, you still have the job and a good boss in the bargain," he said, smiling.

"Senor Lazlow…"

"Homer."

"Homer, I accept your deal as you call it. All parts of it. If you are as nice as Jake has told me, we will be fine," she said.

******

Jake never looked back. He was heading back to California, on foot, with exactly what he had left with, with the exception that he had three hundred dollars in his hand-tooled leather wallet. The almost three thousand dollars that he had saved in the bank he had handed over to Lorena. She'd resisted, but he had been adamant. She wouldn't be penniless with him gone. That, and with job that he knew Homer was going to offer her, she would be fine. Her only possible problem might come if her ex-boyfriend ever showed up to harass her, but Homer had been made aware of the possibility and would have taken measures before the day was out.

******

Jake took his time as he walked. He would begin hitch-hiking once he got across the border. That was going to be a problem. He had no passport and he had no California ID. If he were stopped, he could expect to be arrested and sent back to Chico without so much as a by your leave. That must not happen he told himself. He had to see Millie one last time before his world came crashing down around him.

He was wearing the same bomber jacket that he'd had on that day two years before when he'd left. At the border gate he planned to make like a day tourist and bullshit his way across; it was a gamble, but at the busiest part of the day a clean shaven gringo with cash in his pocket and very honest looking face would not be likely to get to close a scrutiny.

He got lucky; the woman at the booth just waived him through with what could only have been described as a "fuck me" smile. He gave her his sexiest grin in return. He padded along to the shops on the west side of the street and came to a small eatery and decided to get something to drink. As he was coming out of the eatery, a limo pulled up alongside of him, and a short well dressed man holding a teddybear approached him.

"Hello, Jake," said the youthful looking man with the teddybear."

Jake almost panicked. "Do I know you?" He'd first thought FBI, but no, the FBI didn't drive limos to pick up guys like him, and they didn't usually come armed with teddybears.

"No, but I know your wife," he said.

Jake paled. Speech was not immediately accessible to him. Fortunately he had no need to speak.

"We've been following you all morning. I'm here to talk some sense into you," said the man.

Jake sized him up. The little guy had zero chance against him if it came to blows. But, just as he thought that, a huge Asian exited the limo; the guy had to be six-five and no less than a two-hundred and eighty pounds. Add to that the bulge over his heart, and this was a guy not to be foolin' with on purpose.

"Following me? Sense? What?" stammered Jake.

"I see you've bought a drink. Can we go inside and sit. I'd like a drink too," said the little man.

Jake nodded.

They talked about a number of things; it was almost like the guy was interviewing him for something: deciding if he was worth his time. Jake decided that he liked the guy. He was strange as hell, but he liked him; and it was clear to Jake that teddybear or not, he was nobody's fool. In the middle of their conversation the guy handed him a set of keys.

"You know how to drive, yes?" said the little guy, whose name he'd discovered was Melvin.

"Of course, but I don't have a license yet," said Jake.

"Don't worry about it. That's yours over there," said Melvin. A well dressed. Tall, thin man in sunglasses pointed to the car, apparently so that there would be no misunderstanding, and then went over to the limo and took up his post there. He and the giant were soon shooting the shit.

"Huh?"

"It's an old car, but it's dependable. Don't get pulled over," smiled Melvin." You don't need the grief."

An hour later. the man in the limo, Melvin, was gone, and Jake had an address. Not an address in the San Fernando Valley where he and Millie had lived together as man and wife. It was a Nevada address; Millie had moved. The man had assured him that Millie did in fact want to see him, but beyond that meager tidbit of information he could not further enlighten him. There was one other thing though that almost made his day. He had finally found out that he had been the recipient of an amnesty and that the cops were not looking for him: he was a free man.

Jake keyed the ignition of the white '59 Ford Fairlane, and armed with a map of California and Nevada was under way.

Chapter 7

Jake drove north. He had no license, but that was the least of his worries. He'd get one of those as soon as he landed somewhere. He wondered about the '59 Ford. It was a true antique. It was bigger than some of the rooms he'd stayed in his younger days. The guy said it was his. But to keep? It didn't matter; it was getting him where he needed to be.

Car to keep or not, he was bent on only one thing: seeing his wife. He knew nothing except where she probably was, Nevada, and that because of Melvin. He had the address of her apartment building but nothing else, and Melvin had cautioned him not to phone her first even if he somehow got the unlisted number. It had only been advice, but the guy seemed to be a pretty smart dude; Jake'd decided to take his advice.

He pulled into a rest stop about fifty miles south of his destination. The place had a diner and showers for truckers and cabana used to-well-rest. He got himself a plate of ham and eggs and toast and the local paper. He read while he ate. It was going on two years since he'd seen anything American in newsprint: two years since he had left his wife and home and run off like some immature kid. Had he grown up, was he just tired of the dreams; he didn't know, not yet.

Having eaten, gassed up, and now feeling refreshed he hit the road once again. He was becoming more and more anxious the closer he got to his goal. Melvin seemed to know what he was talking about, but no matter how smart the guy was seeing his wife for the first time after so long a self-imposed absence might not be the easy page turner that he hoped it would be. In fact, he was certain that at the very least it would likely be a strained meeting.

It was 7:00PM when he wheeled his Ford into the parking lot of her apartment building. The timing of his visit might or might not be good. Would she be home? Who knew? Would she have company, a boyfriend? Jake was terrified, but he was also fatalistic.

He sat and gazed up at the second floor windows. He guessed at which one might be 203. There was a light on in the window, but that could mean anything. His stomach was churning. He got out, donning his jacket in the doing; it was cold. The desert was always cold at night. His steps uncertain, he made his way to the staircase and climbed it though his legs were like lead.

He stood in front of the door to 203 for a full minute before raising his fist to rap on it. He finally did so. He was prepared to be sent packing and he was prepared to be treated coldly. He was even prepared to find another man inside courting her. He'd thought it all out. He was also prepared to feel the worst he had ever felt in his life. Going on two years, and now it was almost time to end it.

He heard footsteps. She opened the door.

She stood there transfixed in shock. Her arms hung limp at her sides. Her brow wrinkled. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her arms began to rise in supplication at the sight of her man returned. "Jake I-"

"Millie, I want to come back," he said. He waited.

"Jake, come in."

She sat on the sofa. He took the chair across from her. They stared at each other.

"Millie, do you still want me? I'll go if you say so; let's not prolong this if you want me to leave.

"It's been a long time. Nothing else need be said if you have moved on. I thought that I had, but I have never been able to get you out of my mind.

"Some guy named Melvin came out of nowhere and told me you'd be interested in seeing me again. He also said to get on my knees and beg your forgiveness."

He got down on his knees. "I beg your forgiveness, Millie," he said. "Even if Sam has taken my place I still beg your forgiveness."

"Sam? Oh no. Sam is gone. I sent him packing right after you-"

Jake began to feel hope. "You mean-there's no one else. Or, is there someone else? I'm just-I don't know. I guess I'm saying, just tell me what you want," he said.

"Jake there is no one else. No one who has taken your place. There is a lot of water under the bridge though. Jake and you and I need to talk. But, no, there is no one else. I've had dates, but nothing serious. Not at all." She was trying to get as much information out in front of her as possible; she didn't want something she hadn't said biting her in the ass later. She didn't know where it came from, but she was using her head. She did not want to blow this!

He smiled the smile of a man whose sentence had been commuted. "I love you," he said. "That never changed."

"Where were you, Jake?"

"Mexico. I shacked up with a gal down there for a while. She kinda saved me at a time when; well, I needed saving," he said.

"Jake, welcome back." She flung herself into his arms and they hugged and kissed for a long time. "Can I stay here with you tonight?" he said. He knew the answer, but he wasn't taking anything for granted until she gave him the all clear.

"Yes. It's our home, Jake. Of course you'll be staying. I sentence you to life here."

"Thank you, my darling wife, my warden; I really, really love you.

"Can I ask? You moved to Nevada?" he said.

"Yes, I needed to get away from Sam. And, I needed a job." Suddenly she saw a barrier that had to be breached or it could turn him against her once again.

"A job? Yes, of course, you're obviously not working at Johnson's market any more. So what are you doing?" he said.

She was silent for a moment. "Jake I needed a job right away. I had to get away from Sam. And well, one thing led to another. So-"

"So?"

"Jake, I'm an escort like Jill. We work at the same place."

He seemed confused. "But, Jill's a-"

"A prostitute, Jake, and so am I. And, Jake, I like the work and I'd like to keep doing it. Are you okay with that? And just so you'll know. The guy who found you, Melvin Cort, is one of my clients. He's rich and has all kinds of contacts ad stuff. He used them to find you for me, I guess."

Jake was stunned. "But a pros…"

"Jake, if you really don't' want me to-I'll quit. I want to stay in the business; it's good for me, but I will quit if you say to." She was gambling that he would let her have her way in this. If he asked her to quit it, she'd have to now; but what she absolutely didn't want was him to think she was giving him yet another ultimatum. But, all of that considered, she was gambling that he would allow her to do what she wished; he had come all of the way back to see her and had apologized on his knees.

"No, no, you can keep the job if it is what you want. I just want us to be together," he said.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him close to her. "I love you and need you." She said.

******

The next few days were a whirlwind. Millie took an unscheduled vacation and they went up to Vegas for a few days of wild loving and getting caught up. On the last day of their time in Vegas, they were sitting in a bar at one of the lesser spots downtown.

"Sounds like we both have some odds and ends to take care of," said Millie.

"For sure," said Jake. "I do have to make it up to Jimmy. He didn't deserve to get cut out on like that. And also to Lorena; I owe her a lot."

"No Jimmy didn't deserve to be abandoned like that. But, Raymond and Andy have taken care of him in that regard," said Millie. "And, I understand your concern for that lady in Tijuana too. On my side of the coin, I have to make it up to Jill and to those high rollers that she was depending on me to entertain this week."

"Lucky guys," said Jake.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?" he said.

"I would like you to come to Cupid's on Wednesday night, but come early. I need you to be there, okay?" she said.

"Sure, but why?" he said.

"You need to see what it is that I do. You need to know that it's no threat to you. I have something planned, and you need to cooperate, okay?"

"Honey, whatever you say is a done deal as far as I'm concerned. So, if you need me to be there; then, I'll be there," he said.

"Good. Wednesday at 7:00 then. Don't disappoint me big guy. Don't be sittin' in front of that TV watchin' some game. I really want you to be there; it's important to me."

"I won't disappoint you. But, what is it you need me to do?"

"You'll see, she said. "Just be there."

"Okay already, I'll be there," he said in mock irritation.

******

Jake dressed up for his visit to Cupid's. Since Millie had gotten him to commit to coming to see her there, he had given it a lot of thought. He'd at first not really wanted her to remain a party to such a life. Not that he was a prig or anything; but it was just the image that such a career conjured that caused him to be not in favor of her continuing in such a pursuit. Nevertheless, since she had let him know that she liked the life and that she wished to continue, and had by the way asked for his approval, he had acquiesced to her wishes.

He would be respectful to all of the employees, he had decided, not just Millie and Jill. He'd only seen Jill a few times since he'd gotten back in the saddle with Millie, but they had pretty much hit it off and picked up where they had left off going on two years earlier.

He was waiting in the anteroom. Only the girl at the reception desk was around. He'd asked about Millie twice, and was beginning to feel a little bit put out with Millie for letting him cool his heels as he was.

He heard footsteps coming down the hall. A tall blond girl dressed in a satin leotard appeared and smiled in his direction.

"You for me?" she said.

"No, no. I'm here for Millie," said Jake.

She looked at him funny. "Oh, you mean Claire," said the girl. "Not many of our visitors know our real names," she said. "You caught me off guard. You must be an old friend."

"No, no," he said. "I'm her husband."

"Oh my gawd, of course! You're Jake. Claire has told me so much about you. Good to meet you," she said.

Jake felt uncomfortable. He hadn't known Millie's professional name; hell, he hadn't known she even had one. It sounded odd to hear someone refer to her as someone other than Millie. "Thank you," he said.

"Well, Millie will be right out I am sure. I'll let her know you're here. By the way, my name's Kerry."

"Thanks again, Kerry," said Jake.

Kerry blew him a kiss and hurried back down the hallway. Probably had a client, thought Jake.

One minute later, Millie came down the hall toward him, but she was not alone. There was a big black guy with his arms around her shoulders kissing her and copping a feel as they came.

"That was great, Claire," he said, as he disengaged himself from her and left through the side door of the anteroom.

"Well, lover," she said to her husband. "Got any money on you?"

"Yeah, I think so, maybe a $100," he said.

"Let me have it," she said.

He looked at her funny, but he dug out his wallet and passed her four twenties and two tens: virtually his entire cache of funds.

Millie handed the money to the girl at the desk.

"Half hour," said the girl.

"Yes," said Millie.

"Millie, what was that all about," said Jake, glancing back toward the girl that had taken his money.

"You have me for half an hour," said Millie smiling at him.

"What!"

"You're a client tonight, big guy, and I'm gonna show you the same time and courtesy that I showed that big guy you just saw, and all of the others who pay to do me," she said. "Oh, and I'm Claire, not Millie here, okay?"

"Uh-yeah-okay," he said.

"Whaddya want to do, mister?" said Millie, in a tone of voice he'd never heard before.

"Huh?"

"Whaddya wanna do? The clock is running," she said.

Jake was finally getting what the hell was going on: he was nothing but was client for the next half hour, no more no less, and it had cost him $100! Geezsus. Well, he decided, he may as well get his money's worth.

"You only get to cum once, so choose well," she said. "And, it's over in 26 minutes regardless," she added.

"Okay, ma'am," he said. I'd like to butt fuck you. Okay?"

Her eyes widened. She had not expected that. She had done it once, but it was in the first week that she had been with Cupid's. Now this "customer" wanted it again, and she knew how big his dick was. It was a daunting challenge. But she was game. This was his exposure to her work place, and it had to be real. She wouldn't turn down anything so long as she didn't get hurt; that was the only uncrossable line.

"You got it, it big boy," she said. "Drop those trousers."

Millie was dressed in a thin floral print sundress-like garment, strapless and short. She wore no panties. She wouldn't need to take the dress off unless the client asked her too; he hadn't.

Jake lowered his pants but left his shirt on. He was going to fuck her in the ass; he didn't need to be topless since he would be behind her.

"Just minute, trooper." She moved over to a sideboard and pulled out a jar of KY. If she was going to be butt fucked, she was going to make sure the pain was minimal. She gave it to him to apply. She bent over and braced her hands on the seat of a chair and waited for him to smear the miracle goo in her crack and the shallower depths of her anus. "Smear it on your boner too," she said, smiling at him.

"What makes you think that I'm gonna use any of this," he said, apparently seriously.

"Wha-"

"Never mind, I was just kidding," he said. He smeared it liberally inside of her most secret passage and very liberally on his raging hardon. Then he pressed himself against the tight, almost virginal opening, and pushed. He popped in easily-easily for him that is.

Millie swallowed hard and was more than mildly stressed to maintain her composure as her cruel master began his tortuous assault on her asshole.

Jake for his part had decided to enjoy it as much as he could, after all, he had paid big bucks for the privilege.

As his rhythmic pumping continued into its fourth minute he began to feel himself building to a climax; he slowed; he didn't want to finish so soon. He had at least fifteen minutes left on the clock. He stopped completely for a full minute. Millie looked over her shoulder at him. What she saw was a man with his eyes closed, meditating on the glories that he was profaning. She smiled inwardly.

He began again and her discomfort began to subside and was replaced by a certain lustful sense. She wasn't near a climax, but the mental image of what her client was doing to her turned her on. She'd have to think about going home and fucking her husband into insensibility when she got off work; oh, and making him eat every milligram of cum that didn't leak out of her pussy regardless of how much she was able to glean for the evening's work.

She felt him quiver. He stiffened and started ramming her fiercely. He exploded inside of her, filling her butt with his seed.

He pulled out, took two steps and plopped down on the couch pulling her with him. Their sweat swathed bodies lay entwined and the only sounds were of the twin heavings of their breathless states.

The clock ticked down to zero. Millie straightened her dress. "Was it good for you mister?" she said in her most professional tone. She was laying it on a little thick, but in truth, he was getting her regular routine for the usual straight-arrow client. Jake would not understand someone like Melvin, or some of the other rather bizarre proclivities of some of her clients, but the unusual were perhaps but 25 percent of her clientele in any case. Most guys just wanted to fuck her and that without much fanfare or foreplay.

Jake nodded. He had yet to catch his breath.

"I don't get many requests for butt fucking; you were a revelation," she said.

"I am happy to further your education at any time you say," he said, trying to be funny and not doing too good a job of it.

"You know, it's customary for a guy to tip his hostess for the evening if he enjoyed himself," she said very seriously.

"Huh?"

"What's the matter big spender? Out of cash?"

"Well, yes, I'm afraid so. I mean, Millie…"

"Claire."

"Claire, what in hell are you talking about?'

"Never mind, sport, just get outta here, okay. I'm waitin' on some payin' gentlemen, not deadbeats."

He stumbled as she half pushed and half led the confused male out of the room and back toward the anteroom.

He tried to kiss her goodbye, but she turned her cheek to him to receive it instead, and he had to leave less than satisfied with his evening at the whorehouse. He only hoped she was merely acting out how things really were for her at Cupid's.

******

It was almost midnight. Cupid's was closed and Jill and her soulsister were nursing cups of Chamomile tea.

"So, how did it go; you can tell me," said Jill. She was smirking when she said it.

"I think he got the idea," said Millie. "He won't be jealous of any of my clients now, not for banging me at any rate."

"Hmm, well, that has to be good news, I guess," said Jill. "I treated Danny to the same dose of reality years ago, and he never complained about my job again. He sometimes asks me about it though. I think he likes to hear the gory details; it's a turn on for him, I think. So, be ready if your repatriated hubby starts in with the questions."

"I will. I think I better get my ass home though. I laid on it him pretty tough tonight," said Millie.

"Yeah, well it sounds to me like he already got his revenge," said Jill.

"No doubt about that," said Millie, ruefully. "He drilled me pretty good for damn sure. Geezsus how he went after my butt! The day will come when he will pay for that one, but not tonight, and not too soon. We're still building our base back up, and we have a long way to go. I still think he may still harbor some ill will toward me for taking Sam Jacobs' side two years ago."

"Well, do what you have to do.

"Anyway, get on home. I'll close up. I have a well trained slave leaving more than a lit candle out for me," said Jill.

******

It was almost 1:00AM when Millie dragged in. Jake was up and ready for her. He handed her a glass of wine and he had actually lit a candle and had it burning in the center of the dining table; all other lights were off.

"That was a helluva demonstration you put on for me tonight," he said.

Millie looked serious. "You had to know," she said. "I didn't want you imagining things down the line. It's the kind of business that could make a husband very nervous. I do not ever want you to be nervous."

He nodded his understanding of her motive. "Millie, I want things to be like they were. Can we?" he said.

"What do you mean?" she said. "We're back and in love and doing all of the right things."

"No, I don't mean that. I want you to cuckold me again, and I don't mean with paying customers; that's not the same thing."

It made her happy that he didn't think of her paying customers as anything all that serious or important.

"While I was in prison it was all I could think of. I've never really told you, not really, but I got off knowing you were doing it with other guys. I am pretty sure you got off knowing I knew too," he said.

She placed a soft hand on his arm. "Jake, cuckolding you is what almost destroyed our marriage. I don't think I could get into it again, not like before. Working at Cupid's there is some of that, but without the threat to you."

"Honey, you needn't worry about me, I mean about a repeat of what I did two years ago. I was jealous, I admit, but it was mainly because Sam seemed to pose a threat to me. I know now that I was just mad because he chose me off and you seemed to take his side. I realize you were not, but at the time it seemed like it. I was being an idiot then, but I have learned my lesson."

"Jake, I don't know. I like things the way they are…"

"Honey, Millie, I know you've had a good time with some fellows while I've been down south. Don't you want to continue meeting with them from time to time?"

He'd hit a homerun with his last remark. "Jake, I don't know. Raymond, and maybe a couple of other guys would like it a lot, and I will admit so would I, if they could still hope to get into my pants from time to time. But, Jake, it is you I love, and I do not want to ever again have our marriage threatened. Jake, the truth is, that the only thing that keeps me from cuckolding you is the fact that I cannot trust your temper, not in something like this."

"I knew that's what you thought. That's why I have come up with an idea," he said.

"An idea?"

"Yes. Before you just kind of told me what you were going to do, and we didn't really have any experience or way to know what was what. But, now we know a lot more about the pitfalls. The biggest one is that I was not ready. You were ready, but I was not, even though I thought that I was.

"The fault, mother-in-law, was yours."

"What?"

"Hear me out. It was yours, because you didn't train me well enough, in fact, hardly at all. This time you have to do that, train me I mean."

"That's your idea?"

"Yes, well, partly," he said.

"And the other part?"

He hesitated. His next words would be the ones that would set the tone for the rest of his life and hers. "Millie, I was a fool two years ago. I was even a bigger fool four years ago when I got my ass thrown in prison. I need you to be the boss in this marriage. I need you to train me to be the husband that I am pretty sure I can be."

"I intend, my husband, to be the boss in this family. I have to do that; I know it and you know it. But, trust you to not go off the deep end again? What evidence is there that you could control yourself?" she said. "And before you say anything, let me say that protecting you and me and our marriage is everything; and I mean everything. Nothing else really matters."

"The first evidence will be the way I accept my punishment for what I've done," said Jake.

"Come again."

"I need you to punish me, and punish me severely. The way I take my medicine, the way that I 'intend' to take my medicine, will prove that I can learn from my mistakes and that I am indeed trainable."

"Punishment?"

"Yes, severe and witnessed punishment. I would like it if Jill and Raymond, your lover Raymond, and Andy and Daniel, and anybody else you think useful, to witness me getting it."

"You are referring to corporal punishment, obviously?" she said.

"Yes. A hundred with the strap or switch. Or, whatever amount and with whatever instrument you think would prove my sincerity," he said.

"A hundred. You'd be lucky to survive a hundred," she said, almost sarcastically.

"It would be pretty rough, I know," he said. "But then, that's the idea isn't it."

She stared at him. "You really want this? You want me to cuckold you…"

"Yes, and I mean it," he said.

She nodded slowly, not even realizing what she was doing except perhaps on some subconscious level.

******

The darkened room at Cupid's had several folding chairs lined up against the left said of the room from the entrance. In the center of the room, perhaps twenty feet from the line of chairs, was a pillory. It was designed for the B&D; games favored by some of Cupid's customers. But, it was not a toy pillory. It was heavily constructed and made to last a thousand years, or so it seemed to those who had ever been subject to its favors.

Jake's head and arms were already locked into the device; Kerry had done the honors at Millie's request. Jake waited naked and nervous for Millie to come back into the room. She had stripped him and left him to be locked into the pillory by Kerry, while she went to do something, he knew not what.

Seated in the chairs, now, and silent were Jill and Raymond and Andy. Also seated was Kerry, and Leslie the receptionist. Finally, Melvin had been allowed to join the group; he held a Teddy bear, but otherwise was well dressed and business-like.

Millie had counseled the assembly that they were to make no sound. No heckling or cheering or any demonstration whatsoever was to be allowed. These were the ground rules that Jake and Millie had worked out in planning his punishment.

Millie leaned against the wall outside in the hallway; she was alone. She had needed a few minutes to get herself together. Her eyes were closed. She hoped that she was doing the right thing. She breathed deeply. She loved her husband. She thought she understood his motive in wanting to prove to her that he was a born cuckold and desirous of pleasing her. But, what in the world had given him the idea that he had to be so severely punished to accomplish his goal? Well, she'd made the decision, or they had, and now it was time. She headed back into the room.

"It's time, Jake," she said.

He winced at her words; this was not going to be fun, but it was necessary. She noticed his raging hardon, everyone in the room did. For the moment, Jake was very turned on. In truth all of the males in the audience were, and also in truth no less the females.

It was like a medieval execution: the witnesses all silent and solemn as the condemned stood waiting on the gallows. But, in this case it was the pillory. Jake Carson was about to suffer extreme duress at the hands of the woman he loved.

*********

He cried, no howled as she leveled the strap at his butt and whipped him mercilessly for half an hour, but then it was over. He was released. She comforted him as he knelt on the floor, naked, chastised, penitent. He had proved himself, and was ready for his role as her cuckold.

"Jake, Raymond is coming home with us tonight; he's going to fuck me and you're going to watch us and serve us as we require."

"Yes, ma'am, of course."

She went over to a side table and picked up two objects that had been there. "Your cock cage and your panties, Jake; I need you back into them." She put them on him and then kissed him tenderly.

-----------------------------

   Series:Murphy and Jack
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Pleasing his women is not his strong suit, but he has other qualties.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/64341/murphy-and-jack
Published:2010-06-05
"Murphy, I can't do this anymore. You disrespecting me is not acceptable. I'm done," I said. "Even once more and I'm gone." We were standing out toward the backyard fence. I'd pulled her there, her resisting, to have it out with her, party or not. This was one time that I wasn't going to be waitin' until we got home, not this time.

"Jack, stop being so pissy. It was just a birthday kiss. It's Don's birthday. Everybody gets kissed on their birthdays," said Murphy. Her words made me think back to my own birthday two months earlier.

"You remember my birthday, Murphy? You remember where you were?" I said. She looked at me funny.

"Oh, well, we're married," she giggled. "It's not the same thing," she said.

"Yes, well, I remember. You said you had to help Don out with some stuff at the office, so you'd be a little late to the party-my birthday party! My birthday party goddamn it! And, I never did get a birthday kiss. By the time you did get back, everyone had left! It was humiliating that my wife-my very own wife-never even made so much as a formal appearance. And, now I catch you making out with that asshole while I'm just a few feet anyway in the next room. You get off humiliating me, Murphy? Make you feel good fucking me over!

"Like I said, Murph, I'm done. You're either my wife or you're not," I said.

"Jack, I apologized for missing your party. I felt awful about that. And, I promise, since it bothers you so much, no more birthday kisses for Don. Okay?"

"No, it's not okay. Here's how it's going to be. You're going back in there, now, and tell him you are quitting your job. No more late nights at the office and no more Don on any level," I said.

"Or what?" she said.

"Or, I'm gone, like I said."

"Oh Jack, you are being so juvenile. Just calm down. We'll settle this when we get home. You'd think I was fucking him for chryssakes! It was just a birthday kiss, Jack, nothing more. Just calm down," she said.

She broke away from me and headed into the house. As she reached the sliding glass doors that led off the patio, Donald met her. The two of them talked animatedly for a moment. Then, shock of shocks, she touched his cheek, as if to say that everything would be all right; and then, he leaned in and kissed her. She didn't push him away, but she did glance in my direction a worried look spreading across her features. I'm sure, that even at that distance, she could read the steel in my eyes.

That last kiss ended my marriage. All of the shouting and running about still had to play out. But, we were done as a married couple as of that moment: she hadn't pushed him away.

I threw the bottle of beer, that I'd been holding, against the slate stone that lined good 'ole Don's rock garden and headed for the backyard gate. I had to get out of there before I did something felonious. The two of them had already disappeared back inside.

A number of people, mostly Don's friends, looked over toward me as the shattered glass splintered in all directions; some of them smiled; I wondered at that. "Whaddya all smiling at," I said way too loud, "my marriage just died! You think that's funny!" The smiles disappeared to be replaced by a pregnant murmur.

It was all my fault of course. She'd been disrespecting me for so long that my threats probably meant nothing to her. In her mind, I was sure, she saw me as once again just going home in a snit, followed by her granting me a little mercy sex; then, waiting me out as the problem passed into our emotional history, like it always had, to be forgotten and never mentioned again. She was wrong if that is what she thought.

And, the night wasn't over as I soon discovered. As if the hands of some perverse god were somehow in the mix, things escalated geometrically. Indeed, it seemed the fates had decreed that I would be having plenty more motivation to break it off with Murphy McBride, nee Poe, once and for all.

I passed through the gate took at the side of the house, and took the flagstone stepping stones two at a time on the way to my car. Just as I was about to round the corner of the garage and head to my car at the curb some yards away, I heard voices. I recognized them right away. I stayed back in the shadows, just around the corner of the building from them.

"No, Don, we have to cool it. He's really mad. I don't know what I was thinking making out with you in the den while he was just in the kitchen next door," said Murphy. "And you kissing me just now-I mean in front of him, fucking seconds after he'd read me the riot act! Jesus, are you crazy!"

"What you were thinking was that you wanted to have some fun. And, what I was thinking was the same thing, and frankly it was little enough," said Donald Petty.

Good 'ole Don owned and operated a chain of female hair salons, Don's Beauty Stops. He'd hired Murphy as a hair dresser a year past, but had moved her into the office as his full time PA after no more than a month's time. For the record, I'm a body and fender man and a custom car painter, sole proprietor of Jack's McBride's Auto Body. I don't own a chain of stores, but I do make pretty big bucks doing what I do: six figures actually. The job is tough sometimes, and my hands can get real dirty, but I have a crew of three guys who work for me and we make do.

The dynamic duo had become friends, close friends, her term; and things had begun to become more and more testy between she and I as time went along. I could always wait on whatever I needed because Don was her boss and needed her more. I would sometimes catch at her office, when I came to take her to lunch or whatnot, with his hand on her shoulder, or even around her waist, and she just pooh-poohed my concerns. On at least two other occasions at parties I'd caught him kissing her. Tonight though, they weren't kissing; they were making out. Oh, and once at the lodge, where he and I are both members, he'd dominated her dance card to the point of embarrassing even her while humiliating me. That hadn't happened since, but that once, quite frankly, had been more than enough.

"Don, he caught us making out. He's threatened to leave me. If he ever found out what we were doing on his birthday; well, I don't even want to think about it," she said. That one did it for me. Not being one to procrastinate, I decided to finish it now. I rounded the corner and came up behind her. His face took on an indecipherable expression.

"And, just what was it you were doing on my birthday, Murphy?" I said. "Fucking him?" The look on her face as she spun around to face me said it all.

"I see," I said. "Your little, wimpyassed cuckold am I. Well, don't let me stand in your way. You kids have a nice time. Yuh hear?" I said.

"Jack! Wh-it's not what you think. It isn't. Let's go home and talk about it," she all but screamed. I smiled and headed for the car. She followed, but I didn't unlock the passenger side and drove off leaving her waving at me to come back. I was halfway down the block when I had a thought.

I put the car in reverse, stopped when I neared her, and motioned her to get in as I unlocked the door for her. She seemed to sigh with relief; I figured that that would be short lived.

As we headed home, she was quiet for a while. I wasn't saying anything either. Finally, she opened up; I guess she'd decided to be truthful and put it all out there, that surprised me.

"I was wrong," she said. "I've been treating you badly and I'm sorry. I mean it."

"He all that wonderful in the sack that you'd throw away our marriage," I said. She looked at me, a kind of sadness came over her features.

"Yes," she said, "if it comes to that." Tears were beginning to trail down the side of her face. "The bad part, though, is the way I've neglected you. You didn't deserve what I've been doing to you. I apologize and I will make it up to you; I mean if you don't divorce me."

"Better than me?" I said. "I do it your way or it's over. Sweet," I said. "Fucking sweet."

"Yes, Jack, he is better. And before you ask the inevitable masculine question, he's bigger by a lot too," she said.

"So, I guess you want the divorce then," I said. I was feeling so low I knew I'd have to look up to see my footprints.

"No. Absolutely not," she said. "I would never willingly leave you or go with him or anyone else. But, I know it's not up to me now."

Well, this was one night that was just full of surprises. I'd gone back to pick her up in order to get the bad stuff out of the way while I still had the image of them standing there talking about us hot in my mind to motivate me. I did not want to have a makeup session later, and I knew that if I cooled down a little, that she would get the upper hand, like always. Hell, I loved her for damn sure. I could forgive her anything, but things had gone too far this time-hadn't they? But, things were not playing out like I'd thought that they would.

"Why not? Why don't you want a divorce. You clearly don't care about me, at least in a sexual way anymore, if you ever did," I said.

"Because you're a man, he's just a player that happens to be all that in the sack, as you term it," she said. "You take care of me, love me, provide for me, make me laugh, feel safe-when you're not being all pissy and whiny that is. And, coincidentally, because I love you. Always have." I looked askance at her.

Never in my wildest, most outrageous and unrealistic dreams would I have thought that I would be having a conversation like this-not like this. "I will say, Murphy, that your incredibly candid words stop me. I mean they stop me cold. I expected you to either say good riddance or cry and beg for forgiveness. But, you didn't do either. You just-what-told it like it is," I said.

"I am begging for your forgiveness, Jack, and your understanding. Your understanding-because I can't stop," she said. I pulled the car over to the side of the road. I was shaking, shaking real bad.

"You drive," I said. "I can't. I really can't." I had to think and it was affecting my driving. What I would say next was out of character for me, really for any man. I needed to say it right.

"Huh?" she said.

I was already out of the car and coming around to the passenger side. I let her out and she looked at me like I was nuts. Without a word she went around and got behind the wheel. She looked at me.

"Weird," she said, as she pulled out and started to drive us home.

"You have no idea," I said.

The rest of ride was silent. Pulling in at home we both got our stuff and headed inside. The house was cool. I adjusted the thermostat.

I was pacing in the living room as she came out of the bathroom to whence she had retreated as soon as she'd set her bag down. She set herself down on the couch and stared at me, waiting.

"Murphy, the degree of honesty you have shown me tonight intrigues me and worries me and-leaves me with a smidgen of hope," I said. She looked askance at me.

"What I am saying, dear wife, is that I see you-and him-as a challenge. You say he's better than me in the sack," I said. She looked down. "Well, I say you mean 'so far' he's better than me in the sack. I aim to change that little reality."

"Jack, I don't mean to… " I interrupted her.

"Murphy, you gotta give me a chance. You say you want my forgiveness. Forget the damn forgiveness. Let me prove to you that he ain't all that.

"This evening, earlier this evening, when we were going at it, arguing, at his house, I really thought our marriage was over. I was ready to move out and never look at you again. And, if you aren't into what I'm saying here; that's still the plan. But, if you are willing to give me the chance to prove myself to you." She interrupted me.

"Jack, you have nothing to prove. And, as for the sack thing-well-Jack, you can't grow a bigger cock. And, I-I said it wrong before. I didn't mean that he was all that much better than you. But, he is different and he moves me in ways you don't because you are not him. That said, you move me in ways he can't.

"If I were talking to him, right now, instead of you, I would be telling him the same kinds of things. I mean that he can't do the things in the sack that you can. That's what I should have said," she said. I smiled. At least she had the decency to try and make me feel a little less bad. But, the reality was that she was lying to be kind to me, and we both knew it.

"Murphy, earlier you essentially told me that I could like it or lump it, but you weren't going to give him up. It's clear to me that you think that what he gives you is worth giving me the door for if I am not ready to accept my role as your cuckold. Or, am I wrong? Did I somehow misunderstand you?" she looked away.

"Yes, well, that's what I thought. The only question left then is whether or not you will let me give it the old college try. Or, whether I shouldn't bother. If the latter, I will pack now and leave. So what is it?" I said.

She was wringing her hands. I looked at her, stared at her. She was trying to find a way to turn me down with as little hurt as possible. Fucking wonderful! I wasn't even going to get a chance to try. Well, I guess I shoulda been used to the humiliation by now. I decided to say so.

"I see," I said. "Well, I guess I managed to humiliate myself pretty good here, again. I'll be outta your hair within the hour. At least I should say that I do appreciate your honesty. I'll see a lawyer on Monday." I turned and headed upstairs. I was fast; well, the adrenalin was flowing. I had three bags. I had them at the door in twenty-eight minutes. I turned to look at her one last time. "Goodbye, Murphy."

"Jack, I… " But, I was gone, struggling my stuff out the door as I went.

******

"No he left," she said. "He isn't coming back. We killed his heart, or I did. But, I didn't want to give him false hope and then have him despair of my love or any of it down the road."

"What was it he wanted exactly? Tell me again? I can't believe he thought…"

"Shut the fuck up, Don. No he can't do what you do. It just isn't in him. Even if he had the equipment, he couldn't do it. He's too-too much the good guy. If I wasn't so hung up on size and what you do to me… " she said.

"But, you are hung up on me. And, for the record, I'm hung up on you and what you bring to the table," said Don. "I can't believe he actually thought he could best me at my game. I'd almost have wished you'd have let him try. But, you're right, when he lost, and he would have lost; he would have been destroyed psychologically. You did the merciful thing."

"Maybe, but I feel like such a shit," she said.

He pulled her to him. He kissed her very lightly on her slightly parted lips. Her arms went around his neck and she kissed him back. One of his hands snaked up her side and found a soft and pliant breast that he massaged very gently; she mooed her evolving sexual high. She smiled. He might be a player, as the girls in his salons confided in her, but today, with her, he was definitely all hers. She giggled. Donald misinterpreting her laughter laughed too.

He gently nudged her back and began peeling her clothes off of her. He turned her and pulled her back to him. His hands wrapped around her and he felt her breasts for some moments, reveling in their incredible softness. He kissed her neck, then began sucking on it. She leaned back against him, eyes closed, letting him do the honors.

Some minutes later she was on her back with her legs, propped up on his shoulders, and pointed straight up at the ceiling. He was drilling her with a ferocity born almost of desperation as she cried for more and harder. The smell of sex was almost overpowering as they sweated and gasped and dribbled their saliva all over each other's most secret places.

Having rested for some little time, he flipped her over on her belly, pulled her ass up to a manageable height, and took her from behind. She grunted and made other unintelligible noises before screaming her intention to orgasm.

"Oh fuck that was good, honey," she said, as she sank into the mattress. He'd rolled off of her and lay with his own legs splayed and sweaty while he caught his breath.

"I will definitely second that," he said. "Think your husband would have measured up?"

"Donald, let's not be talking smack about Jack. I'm fucking him over, I know it, and he doesn't deserve it. At the very least we can stop bad mouthing him. Okay?" she said. He smirked.

"Yeah, that's cool," he said. "Hey, I feel sorry for the guy." She wrinkled her brow and for the first time in maybe a long time, the pangs of guilt began to assail her. Someday she would have to pay for her betrayals, she knew, and the realization of that little reality sapped some of the pleasure of the past hour from her.

"Yes, that is cool," she said almost to herself. Poor Jack, it was not his fault. None of it was his fault. He was what he was and Don was what he was.

******

After leaving the house, I headed for the Sweetwater Motel. It had the virtues of being cheap and close to the shop. I was good for a while with just what I'd scarfed from the house that night. But, at some point in the near future, I would have to be finding something a little more permanent.

Over the next few days I heard nothing from Murphy, no calls no emails, nothing. It was clear to me that she thought herself well rid of her pussywhipped, inadequately endowed husband. It was a bitter pill.

Sometimes it doesn't pay to get up in the morning. Since leaving her, that was becoming just about every day for me. I put myself into my work in a big way. I needed to anyway because Fred and Jimmy were gone for the next two weeks, and it was only me and Andy carrying the load. The work helped, but the nights were pretty bad. I was sure that hers weren't though; the thought killed my heart.

Love can turn to despair pretty quick if one isn't paying attention; I hadn't been. Yeah I know, I shoulda just broken it off with her, not talked myself into a hole like I did, but I couldn't. I needed her-real bad.

I never understood, why it was, that some men could just walk away from a woman, yes, even when it became clear that she just didn't want him anymore. In my mind emotional ties were just too damn tight to walk away from when the love was real. Mine was real. And the woman! How could she do that to her man, when that man was devoted to her to the point of pain like I was? The words of Sir Francis Bacon came back to me, well, I read a lot. How had he phrased it? "It is well said that for those who love, it is impossible to be wise," or something like that. But then again, he had also said, "… great spirits and great business, do keep out this weak passion (love)."

That's it, I thought. I sure as hell ain't no wise man, but the other things, great business, great deeds; I could get into something like that. I had to do something big. Something that would be so big that my woman, for that matter any woman, could not resist me. She'd be driven to return to me. Yes, yes, I know some would say that I was thinking wrong. I should be thinking of revenge or at the very least forgetting her and getting on with my life. Well, in retort I would have to say, without fear of contradiction, that forgetting her or getting revenge on either of them would not solve my problem; it would only compound it. Well, that is, I would have said that until three minutes ago.

What am I talking about? Well, I am forty-two years old. Been out of high school for twenty-five years. Hadn't seen her since "her" senior prom; the her was Annette, my ex-high school girlfriend. She'd graduated the year after me. She'd dumped me the year before, my senior year, and I had taken another girl to her, their, prom, Margaret Wells was the girl's name: she'd asked me. I'd done my best to ensure that Margaret had a good time, but I had had to gnash my teeth as I watched Annette dancing with Gil Jensen the fucking third. My date, Margaret, was cute, and very willing; but she was not Annette. And three minutes ago Annette Lessing, well that had been her name back then, had walked into my shop.

She was still stunning, at least to me. In that instant my life changed; my attitude toward Murphy and Don baby changed. At least the potential for change was there. Annette had usurped my attention.

"Jesus-H-Q-reee-eyest," said Annette, staring at me.

"No, just Jack, Jack McBride," I said. "Haven't changed my name." I was smiling broadly.

"Funny, Jack, funny. How the heck have you been. It's been how long? Forever?" she said.

"Not good, Annette. Not good. Not since you dumped me. I've tried to settle for second best, but, well, you were just kind of irreplaceable," I said.

"Like I said, Jack, funny," she said, smirking. "You can't still be carrying a torch even for me after so many years, Jack, but it is flattering of you to say so." She was laughing out loud now.

"No, really, I never got over you. Curious. You marry Gil Jensen?" I said.

"No, no, Jack. I married Mark Wilson. You never knew him. Divorced last year," she said. "You?"

"Married Murphy Poe. A girl I met through friends. We're in the middle of getting a divorce now. She dropped the hammer on me just last night as a matter of fact," I said.

"Oh, sorry. I know it can be so hard. Mark cheated on me, and that was the end," she said. I wondered at that; I could not conceive of any man cheating on a woman like Annette.

"A common disease, I guess. Murphy dumped me for another guy; I caught 'em cheatin', sort of, and that was the end for us," I said. "So, you want to?"

"Want to what?" she said.

"Marry me. I figure my divorce will be final in a few months. We can honeymoon in Cancun or someplace," I said. She laughed.

"No, not ready for that yet, Jack. Thanks for the offer though," she said. "Uh, but I have a car problem." I didn't laugh.

"Car problem?" I said.

"Yes, over there, that car," she pointed. "I bought it for my son, Nicolas. He's almost eighteen now. I promised him a fancy dancy car if he graduated in the top ten of his high school class. He did. He wants flames or some wild thing like that. I heard of this place, but I had no idea it was your place. Anyway, I want to get it customized for his birthday next month. Can you help me?" she said.

The car was a fifty-five Chevy Belaire, a true classic. "Sure. It's what I do," I said.

"Can I ask how much it will cost me? The car itself cost me a ton," she said. I put on my pensive look. Something like she was talking about was going to run out somewhere around $3,000 to $5,000 dollars depending on what she thought of the pics and sketches that Andy would produce to give her an idea of what her son might go for. But…

This was Annette, not just any customer. "I can do it for a grand," I said. I knew I was going to hear from the boys on this one. Things had been a little slow and this was a live one.

"Really?" she said. Her smile closed the deal, at least for me. I'd make sure that the boys got paid the usual. They were on straight commission, except Andy, who got $50 for each sketch on top of his usual cut. But, I could fudge there and get the boys what they should be getting, I thought.

"Yeah, well that, and a dinner out with you," I said. I had to go for it; this was a once in a lifetime opportunity the way I looked at it.

She looked sideways at me. "Dinner?" she said.

"Yes, just dinner. For old time's sake, and you know, to catch up and stuff," I said.

"Okay," she said. "Friday evening?"

"Great. This is Monday. I should have the car done by then. I'll pick you up in it. But, first I have to let Andy over there work with you for a few minutes. He can show you some pics, sketch out some stuff for you too. Okay?" She nodded.

******

I had arrived to pick her up in the Belaire. She'd been properly impressed; the boys had spared no effort to do a good job since it'd seemed so important to me. We headed out to the Camel Lounge, an upscale bar and grill in the center of town. The parking attendant actually whistled when we drove up. I wasn't sure if it was at the car or Annette; both were worth the effort.

The date was a success, sort of. We ate and talked, and I even got a kiss goodnight. But, I was uneasy. I felt like a cheater. I wasn't. I never made a move on Annette, but I still felt funny going out with someone other than my wife. And then, that evening at home, at my little apartment, I had a visitor.

"Murphy!" I said. Talk about surprised, I was.

"May I come in Jack?" she said. I stood aside to let her enter. She looked around. I could only guess at what she thought of my humble surroundings. But, I knew that she knew I could afford better, so it didn't bother me.

"Well, at least there's no bed bugs," I said, as she took in the place. She looked embarrassed.

"Jack-I didn't mean-"

"What do you want Murphy?" I said. "And how did you find me?"

"Andy told me where you were staying.

"Jack, I felt horrible about the way we parted. I needed to come by and let you know that I have changed my mind about what you said, what you wanted," she said. "I was writing you off without giving you anything."

"You mean a chance to prove myself," I said. She didn't expect that, she wrinkled her brow. "That was a week ago, I've had time to think things over too, Murphy. I don't want to try and prove myself anymore. I was wimping out that night, not wanting to lose you; I was grasping at straws. I admit it; I'm a pussy when it comes to you. But, then after I left, I realized that I had already lost you, hadn't I. That was the real bottom line. I'm a loser, Murphy, when it comes to women; I know it; and I will somehow learn to live with it. But, what I am not going to live with is a woman, a so called wife, who is fucking around on me.

"So, is there anything else?" I said. She looked very hard into my eyes.

"Jack, I keep doing things wrong. I am really here hat in hand. I've told Don that he and I are over. You are too important to me to risk my losing you. So, I am here to ask that you come home with me, and let me start doing penance for my sins," she said. I think my mouth was hanging open. I gathered myself.

"What about the sex. You made it clear that I wasn't much, not near enough for you. What's changed?" I said.

"Sex isn't everything, Jack. Hell, it's damn little in the final analysis. You're plenty good enough for me, Jack," she said. I began to pace. I stopped.

"Murphy, that sex isn't everything, I completely agree. But, it is a big thing, not a little thing. If we stayed together the sex has to be good, not just tolerable. I don't want to wake up some morning and see you looking pensively off into space because you have nothing to look forward to but mediocre sex with me. I don't want you wondering if you made a mistake by not just cutting me out of your life and going with your lover. And, most of all, Murphy, I don't want to feel like I'm nothing to you when it comes to our doing it together. I've got a little pride left, Murphy, not much but a little. I just can't see us together anymore, Murph, and you have no idea how it kills me to say so."

She looked at me wistfully. "Jack, I need you. I really, really need you. I can teach you how to do things-you know," she said. I slowly shook my head from side to side. "If I'm that lacking, then I'm not for you Murphy. We best be getting to the divorce, and stop fooling around. I need to be free, and I expect so do you. You can show yourself out," I said.

She turned to go. I wouldn't be seeing Murphy again for a long time.

******

"You say she just waltzed in and told you she was done with her boyfriend," said Annette. I was just finishing up the last bite of my orange roughy; it was very good.

"That about covers it, yes," I said.

"Why didn't you give her a chance? Sounds like she meant it, I mean the way you tell it," said Annette.

"I think she did mean it. I just don't think she would be able to keep her word. She wants or needs someone who's a better cocksman than I am, or so she's said at any rate," I said. Annette nodded.

******

The divorce was final this week. It was seven months to the day since I'd filed. Murphy didn't contest the divorce per se, but as we were leaving the courthouse, she caught up to me.

"Jack, this was a mistake. We should be together. I know that woman over there is your new squeeze, but she isn't me nor anything like me. She'll dump on you one day, Jack, and when she does, I'll be there to help you put humpty back together again," she said.

"Murphy, sour grapes do not become you…"

"No, Jack, I've asked around. You should too. But, I wish you well, though, whatever happens," she said.

"Murphy, Annette's a good woman. I'm not sure where we are going with our relationship, but you need to not concern yourself about us. You should just forget about me and get on with your life," I said.

"Okay, Jack, just remember what I said." And then, she who had been the love of my life, was gone.

******

"What did she want," said Annette, coming up to me as Murphy turned to leave the courthouse.

"Nothing. She just wished me well is all," I said.

"Anyway," said Annette, as she locked my arm with hers, "Nicolas is back in town. You know of course he loved the car. He said it has become something of a girl magnet since he'd gotten to college. He is meeting with us tomorrow. He wants to show us his car's new sound system." I nodded. I'd discovered that she was always excited about whatever her son did or had.

******

We were at the neighborhood park near my place. It was a nice day. Annette was setting up the picnic on the nearby table while her son and I meandered among the nearby trees.

We'd been talking awhile about his first stint at the college and other things. He brought up the subject of his car again, "Yeah it's really a girl getter," said Nicolas. "Mom had good taste this time around." I looked at him, not sure what he referring to by his "mom's taste." I decided it had to be the car's custom paint job.

"Well, I'm glad it is working out for you," I said. "Sounds like you have it together, I mean college the social scene, all of it."

"Yeah, for real," he said. "Mr. McBride?"

"Yes?" I said.

"Oh nothing," he said. He was off and heading back to his car before I could pin him about his almost question. I knew he had a hot date from things he'd said earlier. It was clear he wanted to tell me something or ask me something but had thought better of it. Well, if it were important, he'd get around to it in time, I figured.

"Honey," Annette called to me from her work station at the picnic table.

******

I had not been joshing Annette when I'd told her I had never gotten over her. I hadn't, and it was only a slight exaggeration to say that I had thought of her every day since we'd parted so many years ago. She didn't quite believe me of course, but it was clear that she was basking in the thought that it might be true. It was some months after my divorce was final that I took the plunge.

"Yes, Jack, I'll marry you. If you're sure," she said. "Jack you know I like variety. I hope…"

"Annette, I have never been surer of anything in my life," I said, interrupting her; she sighed. We were married six weeks later. Her folks, same as mine, and Murphy's too, were on the other coast, but they came out for the wedding. It was a modest affair, small church, maybe thirty people, including my folks and hers. I actually remembered her dad and mom. He'd been a postman back in the day, and his mom a pretty French woman that he'd met on a military tour in Germany.

Mister Lessing had been doing some R&R; in Paris and he'd come on to Jean Laboret in a night club where she worked as a jazz singer. She'd evidently been a private entertainer of the troops as well. This I'd gathered from snippets of conversation over the days immediately prior to the wedding. I didn't ask what was meant by it, the term "private entertainer," but I had a pretty good idea. At any rate, she was a nice and quite beautiful woman still, likewise possessed of a beautiful voice, all of which equaled a beautiful child, Annette; and now that child was mine.

Married life, and especially our sex life was good. For months it was good. It inevitably slowed down some, but now four years later it was still better than average, at least I thought so. This last even though I had of late gotten the feeling that something wasn't quite as it should be. Nothing substantial, just an uneasy feeling, nothing more; and no reason to have such a feeling; but I had it. That is until now. Now, it looked that there was more to my feeling than just a feeling.

My life, until my marriage to Annette, had almost seemed to be an unending series of emotional disasters; she'd changed that for me. Now, as I sat there looking at my worker, I had the sinking feeling that there was going to be a "déjà vu all over again."

"Fred, you have to be mistaken," I said.

"Boss, I saw them. They were making out, in the bar; and they left together," he said.

"Making out, you say. And they left together," I said.

"Yes, boss, but they didn't go far," he said.

"Huh? Whaddya mean," I said.

"I followed them out, taking care that they didn't notice me," he said. "They went across the street to the motel. Boss, they got a room together. They're there now." I was sick to my stomach.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck!" I said. Fred moved his chair a little bit back. I guess I was acting scary.

******

What to do, what to do! Hell, I didn't know. I didn't want a divorce, not from Annette, the girl I'd adored since the tenth grade. But, my wants and wishes notwithstanding, it looked like that was where she and I were headed.

"Fred, do me a favor. It's a big favor," I said.

"Sure, boss, anything," he said.

"If you will, please go across the street, to the motel. Find the bitch and tell her that I take a dim view of her being there and to be home in fifteen minutes or not at all," I said. "Okay?"

Fred smiled the smile of a cat about to pounce. "Not a problem boss," he said. I stood, shook his hand and headed on home.

She didn't make it in fifteen minutes, but she did make it in seventeen. I decided to be generous. "She stormed into the living room and began raving. I guess she'd read Von Clausewitz: "when beset on all sides, go on the offensive"-or maybe that was Vince Lombardi.

"You bastard! You just had to humiliate me didn't you!" she said. "They fought and now Fred is in the hospital. Good work mister!" My face clouded.

"Which hospital?" I said, I was really concerned now. Not about Annette, obviously, but about my bud, Fred.

"How the hell should I know. The EMT guys took him there. I had orders to make it home in fifteen minutes!" she said, dripping from her tongue.

"You failed," I said. "You were two minutes late." I was out the door and on my phone in a hurry. Why the fuck had I involved Fred. I knew the reason. She was right; I'd wanted to humiliate her.

"The cops checked for me, he was at Heinz Memorial. I headed there.

As I was going in, Fred's wife came crashing into me on her way to the nursing station, my own destination.

"Mister McBride? Sorry. Fred's been… " she started.

"Yes, Nelly, I know. I heard all about it. I hadn't, but I did know the basics. Let's see if we can get in to see him."

We did try. She succeeded, I did not. She came out five minutes later. She looked to be in shock.

"Mister McBride?" She slumped into a chair. I went to her. "He says he was doing a favor for you?"

"He was. It was a personal problem, and Fred was willing to help out. It was stupid of me, but I had no idea any kind of fight was going to come off," I said.

"It wasn't a fight. He said the guy hit him with the butt of a pistol. He said your wife… " she said.

"Yes, I asked him to confront her and tell her to get home or else. I never thought that the bad guy was going to do anything like that," I said. "I'll make it right by Fred."

She cried for some minutes. I asked her if she'd eaten. She hadn't. I took her to supper across the street to Denny's, and then back to the hospital. We both settled in for the long haul.

It turned out that the bad guy was some out of towner. He'd cut country as soon as he'd flattened Fred. The police would be hunting for him, but the odds of finding him were low; I knew it and Nelly knew it.

Fred was out of the woods by noon the next day. I thanked whatever deity cared and headed home after giving Nelly a ride to her place to get a change of clothes and maybe a little shuteye.

******

"You found him, I guess," said Annette, as I plopped down on the couch in our living room. It was near 1:00PM. I eyed her.

"Your lover did a number on him, but he'll survive," I said.

"Well-I'm glad for that," she said. "But he shouldn't have called Harry an asshole. It set him off, and Harry is a big guy.

"So where does that leave us, Jack?" she said.

"Care to tell me the why and the what?" I said.

"You know the what. As for the why? No good excuse. It just seemed like a harmless fun thing. An opportunity for some strange. I don't do it often anymore, but last night…"

"What the fuck!" I said. "You don't do it often! Anymore!"

"Oh come on, Jack, You knew. I know you knew," she said. "I told you before we even got married that I needed variety." I was actually snorting and grinding my teeth. My breath was coming in staccato bursts.

"Fuckin-A, bitch. Tell you what. Get the fuck out of here. You've got ten minutes to get any clothes you want and go, or else," I said. I headed into the kitchen. I was on a mission, and it was ninety proof.

I was sitting there drinking, not noticing the time. About an hour later, I got up and headed up to the bedroom. She was coming down the hall with a smirk on her face.

"What are you still doing here?" I said.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jack. You need to get a grip. I love you, Jack, but I also love variety, like I said. I really did think you knew about-well-about things. I guess I was mistaken about that. But, I was never, ever in your face about it, or did it with anyone you knew. It was always just random pickups. Harry was a guy I'd seen around and talked to a couple of times; out of the blue we just decided to make an evening of it. Just a couple of hours for fun. Me foolin' a little never hurt a thing, Jack, most especially not you. Like I said, I did it for variety," she said.

I was speechless. I got my hat and coat and went out. I had to think. I headed for the hospital. I would deal with ditching the broad later. Why didn't I just grab her by the arm and toss her and her sweet ass out? The obvious: her fucking around on me wasn't illegal; my manhandling her would have been. I figured that I might have to grit my teeth for a bit, but in the end she'd be gone, and I would be once again master of my own house; well, I could hope.

******

Fred was fine, well, getting better and would be fine. Nelly was breathing easier and a little put out with me for having Fred do the surrogate thing. But, she didn't hold it too much against me. I was grateful for that; I felt bad enough for involving Fred as it was. I made another mental note to make it up to him.

My next stop was to see one Jacob Masters, private-eye. His office was a third floor walkup in a tacky office building downtown-Humphrey Bogart could have learned from Jacob.

"She's not going to stop," I said. "She as much as told me that I had to deal with it and to stop my whining. To say the least I am more than a little pissed. I want her gone."

"Well, if she's doing it, we'll get the goods. You say you want the house wired too?"

"Yeah, do it. I don't think she'd have the brass cojones to do that to me, I mean bring someone home to our house our bed, but who knows," I said.

******

The gum shoes were on the march and I was spending a lot of time in the local bistro, Hernando's. Helluva life, mine. Two unsatisfied wives fucking me over, and me sitting here doing my level best to fuck myself up. It'd be funny if it weren't so fucking tragic.

Nights were cool in our house. She didn't talk much, and me not at all, not to her. Her attitude really began to get to me. I was supposed to accept her little quirk and forget about questioning her. Murphy and her would have made a helluva a pair. Well, it would soon be over, I reasoned. The lawyers and the judge could do the heavy lifting now.

At least on one count, I had figured wrong. She did bring one of her lovers home, to our house, to our bed. And, Jacob had gotten it all: video, audio, stills the whole schmear.

I was waiting for her the next night when she showed up from her shopping. She had indeed been shopping; she had a ton of stuff in designer bags that she'd acquired from her efforts. She smiled at me when she saw me.

"Wanna see what I got for us?" she said. She didn't wait for a response. She pulled out a gaggle of lingerie from one of the bags and held up the sheerest black teddy I'd ever seen. It really wouldn't cover anything; it was more a garment that would enhance nakedness. "Like it? I bought it for you." I still hadn't said anything, and I wasn't smiling. I finally spoke.

"No." I said. She frowned. I reached for the garment and shredded it.

"Jack! What the…! Jack, can't we get by your little snit. It isn't working for us," she said.

"Whatever happened to the idea that you weren't shoving your little foibles in my face?" I said.

"What? What are you talking about?" She said. She was giving me her most practiced pissed off look.

"Just what I said. I consider it shoving it in my face when you do it here and in our bed. Our bed, Annette!" That shook her.

"How?" she said.

I punched the clicker and the video came on. One minute into it, she sank into the recliner across from me and started shaking her head slowly from side to side. "Jack, it just happened. I met him at the hair salon the other day. It's only two blocks from here. I didn't see the need to go two miles down the road and spring for a motel room. You would never have known. Well, except you do know don't you," she said. "I'm sorry I did it now. I didn't want to hurt or embarrass you, really."

"Except you have, Annette, big time.

"Annette, I have a ton of stuff on you. I know none of it will mean beans in divorce court, but it will mean plenty to your folks and all of your friends and relatives when they get copies of it. So if you want to avoid the disgrace that you absolutely deserve, you will not fight me on the divorce. It'll be fifty-fifty on our marital assets, but you will have nothing to do with anything that I had before the marriage, including my business," I said.

"Jack, be reasonable. What I do on the side, occasionally, has nothing to do with us. It's just recreation, nothing more. Like a hobby," she said.

"Like a hobby? Are you fucking crazy, Annette! Do you not know how devastating this is for me? It's killing me. The girl I adored for decades has put a sword through my heart, and I will never really get over it, Annette. Never!" I said.

"Jack, I have something to propose to you. It may not be the right time, but I guess I have to give it the old college try now. After our little tiff before, I started brainstorming ways to make it right by you. This stuff I've been doing, that I honestly thought you were aware of. I knew I was in trouble when I saw your face and realized you had no clue. Boy, that really got me, worried me. That's why I have been quiet these past days, giving you space, while I worked things out for us," she said.

"Worked things out for us?" I said.

"Yes. This stuff I bought today was part of that effort. Jack, a way to spice things up between us, just you and me. And, well-I want to include you in my-fun," she said. I started to interrupt her, but she stopped me. "Wait, Jack, hear me out.

"It would be a lot of fun, you and I making it together, including third parties from time to time, even other women, Jack. Think about it. Think about it, Jack, and accept my sincerest apologies for everything I did to hurt you. We can start anew, Jack, the two of us, fucking and playing and fooling around. It'd be a kick, Jack, I know you'd have fun, maybe more fun than me even." She said.

"You done?" I said. She nodded. "The answer is no, Annette, not ever." She seemed to deflate.

"Okay, Jack, but I had to try. I'll move out in the morning."

******

She did move out. For me it was bitter sweet. She was the girl I'd dreamed about and loved for decades. Then, once I'd won her, or thought I'd won her; slam, the door hit me square in the snout finishing my dream of her forever. It wasn't a good feeling.

The days following her leaving were empty ones. I had nothing left of my heart. The two women, that I'd most loved-no, adored-had fucked me over and left me bleeding and broken.

******

My second divorce seemed almost to happen on autopilot. I wasn't aware of anything; I was so depressed. My lawyer had me sign things, assured me it was the best I could hope for, and like an automaton I just did whatever he programmed me to do. And, then it was over. Murphy had her lover, I supposed. Annette had her stable of studs, I supposed. Me? I had gentleman Jack and water-helluva note.

Well, as the saying went, I guess this was the first day of the rest of my life. And then I had a visitor.

"Nicolas! What…?" I started.

"Mr. McBride, Jack-I-could we talk?" he said. I nodded and stepped aside to let him in. It was Saturday, and I was planning on visiting Hernando's and doing my level best to forget. But, Annette's baby visiting me was going to make that a bit harder.

I took a seat at the small dinette table where I did most everything that I did in the apartment. I motioned him to do likewise.

"Mr. McBride, Jack-I-I-well, I'm sorry about you and mom. I wanted to talk to you about-things-early on, but I didn't exactly know how," said Nicolas.

"Things?" I said.

"Mr. McBride, I know that there is not supposed to be such a thing as nymphomania, but whatever is closest to it is what my mother has. She is definitely compulsive.

"I had hoped that when you, well, married her that she might turn herself around. I knew from the git go that she loved you. And, I do not say that lightly, Mr. McBride. That part is true, no matter what you might think. I know my mom. All of that sex stuff with her and her friends; well, it had nothing to do with her feelings for you. I know this because she has taken me along to her therapist on more than one occasion," he said.

"Her therapist? Because of me, I mean her cheating on me?" I said.

"No sir because of her cheating on my father," he said. I stared at him. I had taken Annette at her word that it had been the other way around: that Mark Wilson, her former hubby, had cheated on her. Well, I guess it figured. Once a cheater always a cheater, and cheaters at all events are at base just a collection of liars.

"Your dad caught her then?" I said.

"No sir, far from it. She told him and asked him to join her. You know swing," he said. "He did not take her telling him well. He became unglued by her cold attitude. She essentially told him to like it or lump it. He lumped it and divorced her."

"Okay. I understand, Nicolas, but why are you here. I mean, what does any of that have to do with me," I said.

"Sir, I need your help. You divorcing her has driven her over the edge. She's actually become-well-I think the term is a working girl," he said.

I know my face clouded over. "Your mom-a…"

"Yes sir, a prostitute. I have come to ask you to help her. I know it's not any of your worry now; I mean not anymore, but you loved her once," he said.

"Once? I still love her. But, she…"

"Cheated, I know. But, like I said, she's actually clinically depressed and not acting rightly, Mr. McBride," said Nicolas. "She's not responsible for her actions, not in any true sense of the word."

"Nicolas-I don't know what I can do. I would help if I could, but I wouldn't know where to start," I said. "And, if you are suggesting I get back with her, or live with her, well…"

"No, no! I know that that is a non-happening. No, what I am here to ask-no beg you to do is to get my dad to take her back.

"Mr. McBride… " I'd fallen into a trance. He'd noticed my lack of attention.

"Nicolas, you know me well enough, drop the Mr. McBride stuff and call me Jack, okay?" I said.

"Yes, sir, I mean Jack," he said. "My mom did love you, I know it; still does if it comes to that. I also know that she loved, and still loves my dad. She actually talks in her sleep. Your name and his are called out on almost any night you can name.

"The difference between you and my dad, Mr. McBride, is that my dad cries almost every night because she is gone, even after all this time. Even though he kicked her out, he still cries almost every night. I know, I've had to hold his hand more than once when he was doing it. He has no woman friend and doesn't want any. Heck, Mr. McBride, he's as depressed as my mom is. They really, really need each other.

"You sir, do not cry," he said. He was not entirely correct in that assessment of course, but he was correct in the main. Annette had killed my love for her by her actions, and even more by her attitude.

"I still don't know what I can do to help you, Nicolas, or your dad for that matter," I said.

"You and me together can, well I hope we can, convince him to take her back. She'd go. I know she'd go back if he asked her to. But, as sad as he is, well; he's a stubborn man. I've tried to talk to him, but I'm still a kid. My advice is taken very lightly; heck worse, not seriously at all," he said. I nodded.

"You want me to talk to your dad?" I said, seeking clarification.

"Yes, but not alone, with me. I want to double team him and get him to forgive and forget," he said. "He's just got to." It was clear to me that this was one together kid, but desperate too. Desperate for his dad and mom to make things like they were. For no reason whatsoever, an old song came to mind: "Make it like it was," by Regina Belle.

I stared at him. It was an interesting confluence of feelings and motivations. I still had feelings for the girl I had adored for so many years. The romantic love was dead, oh yeah, but the caring would never completely die; I knew it, and I was more than a little surprised to note, that this young man across from me knew it. "Okay," I said. "But, I have to tell you, Nicolas, knowing how I feel and what I know about such things; that I have to say that our chances of success are not real good. Once cheated upon, twice warned. Okay?"

"Yes, sir, okay. For sure okay," he said.

******

We met with his dad for several hours. All of the dirty laundry had been hauled out and reexamined and reexamined again. In the end the man said he would give it a go, but wasn't especially sanguine about his and Annette's chances. Nevertheless…

Leaving the Wilson residence behind, I felt pretty good about having been instrumental in getting Annette and her ex back together, at least it looked like there was a good chance that they'd be getting back together. Ah, but then there was me.

I was alone, sad, and without any serious prospect of feeling any different in the morning. Murphy what did you do it to me, girl. I thought. You should be here right now-with me.

I wondered if she had indeed dumped big Don. I guess I believed her. But all of the things she'd said to me before. I just didn't have a lot of faith that she'd stay faithful, or, even if she did, that I could satisfy her; that was the biggee. What kind of man would marry or stay married to a woman who thought his sexual skills were majorly lacking. I just didn't seem to have the skills that women wanted. Helluva blow to my ego. Annette had never said that I was that bad, never hinted at it. But, then she hadn't had to; it was clear I wasn't near enough for her, and she was getting' it elsewhere in any event. The counter balance to that was that neither had her first husband been, and she was getting back together with him. Could I learn? I had to think on it.

******

I put the steaks on and called everyone join me at the picnic table. The park was nice and not crowded today, Saturday. Nelly, Fred, Andy, and Jimmy were all present; it was a nice day.

All had finally taken their seats at the table. Jimmy'd passed around the beers to everyone, Andy helped me by getting the steaks to their final destinations. Nelly did the hard part by setting out the salad makins. The spread looked good. The conversation was light, but I had an ulterior motive in keeping it that way: I needed to talk to Nelly. It was going to be humiliating as hell, talking to her; but I needed help; and, I was an expert at humilation. She was the only one anywhere near smart enough and knowledgeable enough to help me out if I even could be helped.

I pulled her aside as the eating, if not the drinking, began to subside.

"Nell, could I pick your brain for a moment or two?' I said. She looked at me kinda sidelong.

"Do I detect a tone of voice here, Jack?" she said. "You sound serious."

"As a heart attack," I said. "I need your help, or more specifically your advice."

"Yes," she said.

"I wanna try again with Murphy. But… " I started. This was going to be more humiliating than I first thought.

"Yes?" she said.

"Nelly, you kind know what caused my divorce from Murphy the first time, right?" I said.

"She cheated and you walked out," she said.

"Well, yes, but the reason she cheated," I said. "It's-well-it's kinda embarrassing. Nelly, she kinda let me know that I wasn't worth a damn in bed and she needed something on the side to take the edge off.

"More, she wanted me to be okay with it. I guess I don't have to tell you it pretty well destroyed my ego. But-then-I met up with Annette, and she kind of put me back together again. Well, that is until she too decided she needed more than could deliver.

"Nelly, is there anything that you, you know, as a woman, could tell me to get me off this treadmill I seem to be on?" I said. She rocked back on her heels and looked me in the eye. The look was not sympathetic.

"Young man, I haven't bedded you, and I never would: I have no idea what your problem is, not specifically that is. But-and you can trust me on this- most men are next to useless sexually until they are trained by their wives. Did Murphy ever try to tell you what she liked?" she said.

"No, not really. Not until that last day. She said she was willing to stay married to me, in fact wanted to stay married; but, she needed something more than I could provide; and that I would have to be good with it," I said.

"Hmm, ballsy of her. Frankly, Jack, if she never even made the effort to train you, she had no complaint coming. She should've either given up her toy or left you. Sounds to me like you were the victim, not her with her lack of satisfaction in bed.

"As for Annette, I think she was just a horny broad who had no self-control. You're well out of that situation," she said. I'd started to interrupt, but she stopped me.

"Yes-yes, I know, you loved her and she you and if things had only been different yadda yadda yadda!" she said.

"She, Murphy, did come to me after the break up and tell me she had changed her mind. Said she'd dumped the guy and wanted to come back, but by then I was with Annette," I said.

"I don't know, Jack. Stranger things have happened, but I have to tell you that I am of the opinion that you are better off without her. I liked Murphy, we all did, but she pretty well broke it off in your ass telling you all of those things, and if she meant them, I mean really meant them; then, that pretty much dooms any realistic chance you had of putting things back together.

"Jack, I hate to say it, but my advice is to move on. Find a new love, or many new loves. Find out just how skilled, or not, you really are in the sack. Don't just go back to the old situation and rediscover that you are still coming up short sexually," she said. "I don't mean to hurt you Jack, but that's my thinking."

I looked at her and saw she'd never been more serious. I nodded. "A lot to think about," I said.

We headed back to the table where the party was getting into full swing. Andy's girlfriend had arrived as had Jimmy's ex with their six year-old son; the ex left and the boy ran off to the jungle gym a few yards away.

As the day wound down, I made a decision. I would keep Nelly's thoughts in mind, but I would contact Murphy. It might be the final time, but I would make the first move; she'd said to let her know if Annette and I ever broke up; well, we had.

******

I have to admit I was shaking when I'd hung up. She hadn't seemed surprised to get my call. Nor, had she seemed especially thrilled to get it. The last time we'd talked she had led me to believe that she really wanted to make a second go of it, but now-well, now she sounded like she didn't. On the other hand, though, she had not actually said that there was no way. Damn women! How in the hell was a man supposed to figure 'em out.

At any rate we did have a date, if that's the word for it, for tomorrow night. She was to meet me at the Landsdown Inn. An upscale place I'd never been to; I guess she had since she'd been the one to suggest the place.

But, the big date was still 24 hours away. I sat in my little dinette with the mandatory drink in front of me contemplating my actions and plans of action. I had to wonder if she were doing the same thing.

On the one hand, I figured that the best scenario would be for her to swear off her lover or lovers, if she hadn't already, and come back to me; well, it's what I hoped for. I still loved the woman, and even while I had been with Annette, I had not gone many days without Murphy crossing my mind.

The worst scenario would be for her to lay it on me that she'd changed her mind yet again and no longer thought it a good idea to come back to me, that she still needed her sex toy yadda yadda yadda.

And, if she came back, would she lay down conditions. And, what of Nelly's advice to get my act together and learn how to be a sexual animal. Jesus what kind of pussy was I anyway. Maybe I wasn't exactly a Don Juan, but I just could not believe that I was all that bad at pleasing a woman. I had to do something whatever Murphy decided she would do. And that was the crux of the matter: Murphy was in the driver's seat. I was the one hat in hand. Helluva thing.

******

I made a decision-another one. I would not be mister wimpy. I would be straight forward, make my case, and see how she reacted. No beating around the bush; I wanted her back but not bad enough to accept half a loaf. If she were amenable we would be on the mend, and the-meeting-would turn into a real date. Not amenable? I would minimize the damage to my already absolutely fragile and oft devastated ego and get the hell outta there. The last thing I needed was her to feel sorry for me or try to bullshit me about how she really loved me but how we just weren't meant to be. God that would be the worst!

I drove slow. I wanted to get there, but I didn't. Hell, for the life of me I had no idea what I had ever done to displease the gods that made them hate me so.

I pulled into the lot and sat for a minute. I was two minutes early. I wondered if she were already there or if she would be late.

"This way sir," said the maitre d. She was already there, a good sign, I thought.

I was ushered to a table toward the back and more or less sequestered from the ebb and flow of the nearly full establishment. The maitre d pulled out a chair for me. I nodded to him and he retreated. I remained standing next to the pulled out chair. I didn't feel comfortable enough to take my seat. Too many unknowns.

"Hello, Murphy," I said, in my most neutral tone.

"Hello, Jack. Aren't you going to have a seat?" she said. Suddenly I felt foolish, but I didn't let it show. I took my seat without answering her. "How have you been, Jack?"

I inclined my head in a manner indicating so-so. "I'm doin' okay, Murphy.

"Murphy, I have to say I'm a little-I don't know-confused about this meeting tonight," I said.

"Jack?" she said.

"Well, when I called you yesterday you didn't sound, well, all that enthused about meeting with me," I said. She leaned back in her chair and exhibited a wan smile.

"I see. It's been a long while since we've talked at all, Jack. I wasn't all that sure about you either, if I may say so.

"Jack, I know that I said that I wanted you back, I mean the last time we talked, but that was long ago now. There's been a lot of water under the bridges-both of our bridges-since then," she said. I had a bad feeling. Decided to short shank it all.

"Murphy, if this is a courtesy meeting, I'm not interested. Best if we just get up, walk out, and forget each other if that is what it is. I don't need the aggravation," I said. She leaned forward and folded her hands in front of her on the table.

"Jack, this is far more than a courtesy meeting as far as I'm concerned. It's a sounding out of each other to see if we can put humpty dumpty back together again. I hope we can, but a lot has happened in the past few years.

"Your divorce from Annette was a toughie for one. I knew what she was even back then, Jack; I'd asked around. I think I said as much. I would have warned you, but, I knew that there was no chance, given all that had taken place, that you'd believe anything I said. Maybe I should have risked it anyway, but frankly, my man, you needed to step up and do your own discovering," she said.

It was my turn to lean back in my chair. "Oh," I said. We were silent, contemplating each other for a few moments.

"Jack, it's clear to me that you don't want to waste time here. I agree. Let's clear the deck, and then see if either of us still has an appetite," she said.

"Yeah, okay, but let's at least order drinks. Those'll be useful either way," I said. She smiled and nodded. A waitress with impeccable timing came by at that exact instant. We ordered.

"Manhattans, two, coming up," said the far too young to be handling drinks waitress. She wheeled around and left.

"Murphy, I need to know the answer to just one question and one question only," I said. "Do you want to start over and come back to me?"

"In the worst way, Jack. But Jack, there are a couple of things that may not allow you to allow me back," she said. I looked askance at her.

She fidgeted. "I sure wish those drinks were here," she said.

"Murphy, no need to be nervous. You want back with me, and I want back with you. The only question, now, in my mind then is, your place or mine," I said.

"Hah!" she exclaimed. "If it were only that simple."

"Murphy… " I started. She held up her hand.

"Jack," we have had no communication for the past few years, almost four actually. I don't know if you know it, but I have not even been living here, I mean in town, for the last three.

"Jack, after you married her, I kind of lost it. I had dumped Don because he was such an arrogant shit and because he just couldn't keep it in his pants. He was fucking every cunt in town. And, before you say it, yes I know what a hypocrite that makes me.

"Nevertheless, I took him back; Well, that is on a part time basis. I need cock, Jack. Most women do, and Don has a good one that he knows how to use. And again, yes, I know we've had this conversation before.

"Jack, he knocked me up. I've got twins: Maribelle and Mercedes. They're three years old," she said.

I absolutely knew my face said it all: shock, disappointment, questions, a lot of questions. But, I kept my cool and brilliantly responded-"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh', Jack. So, I've got kids. The kids of your old rival. He gets them one weekend a month. He's become a good absentee father, as it happens. Well, relatively speaking at any rate. And before you ask, yes, he has been fucking me, maybe once every couple of months. But, that said, if you take me back that stops.

"Well, there it is. Got any questions or comments, Jack?" she said. She was sort of smiling at my apparent consternation.

For no damn reason whatsoever, I pushed my chair far back, stood, walked around the chair three times and sat back down. "Well, Murphy, I never said that you weren't capable of surprising the shit outta me. Twins, huh. Cute, I'm sure," I said. She looked at me like I was crazy.

"Jack? You okay. I'll understand if you want to call it a night. Really," she said. "Oh, and yes, they are cute and wonderful." I nodded.

"So then, Murphy, your place or mine?' I said. She took a second to process what I had just said. Then, a smile that made my heart glow spread across her features. She got up, came around the table and knelt in front of me. She laid her head on my lap and cried.

"Thank you, my husband," she said. Well, I wasn't her husband-again-yet, but that, as it happened, was only delayed but one week.

Oh, and if, dear reader, you were wondering; that it not nearly the end of the story.

******

The marriage was redone nine days after our meeting. Of course I met, and became, more or less acquainted with the twins almost immediately. They had big brown eyes and brown hair and liked being hugged a lot; well, they were still little hearts. It was a strange feeling, having two children around all of the time; them running to me when I got home each evening.

It was three weeks after the wedding that Donald had his weekend with the twins. Murphy took them over to his house. She said she didn't think it was a good idea for Donald and me to be in the same part of town. I didn't disagree. Ironically, though the children weren't biologically mine, and Donald had not agreed to give up his parental rights-read there was no my adopting them in the works-I still felt strange when they weren't around. I may have been just their stepdad, but I cared for them as if, well, as if they were my own.

It was more than evident that Murphy could see my state after she returned from delivering them to him. She correctly surmised that I didn't feel right with the kids being with their bio-dad, especially "that" bio-dad. She took it upon herself to adjust my feelings.

"We're going out this weekend, big boy. I need some socializing fun, and I'm guessing that you do too.

The Grey Goose Inn was a country western bistro catering to the economically lower end of the blue collar scale. What it also was, was one helluva fun place in a wild ass sort of way.

While we were fighting through the crowd to find us a table, two fights erupted in two different areas under the quarter acre roof of the place. Both ended quickly as a couple of three hundred pound bouncers brought order out of the almost chaos.

I loved the music and the line dancing; it lent a lot of sexy excitement to the atmosphere of the place.

"Let's go outside for a little while; I need some air," said Murphy.

"Lead the way," I said. She headed toward our car parked, as it happened, in a darkened area at the back of the lot. Hurrying on ahead of me, she went around to the back of car and waited for me. I arrived no more than ten seconds later than she did. And, by the time I did she shucked her panties and had spread herself out over the trunk of the car. I unzipped and entered her right there; it was deliciously dirty and, risky.

"Let's get in the car," I said. "The first one's out of the way, I want to take more time, and besides, I'm not all that into exhibitionism." She snickered.

"Okay," she said. "I just wanted to do it once. I've been thinking about you doing me like that forever. It was nice by the way."

"It was that," I said. In the car's back seat we went slower. We were both still dressed, except for Murphy's panties. We kissed for a long time, the smell of our drying saliva on various parts of our neck, arms, face was erotic as hell.

I unbuttoned her blouse, slowly and kissed the flesh of her breasts that weren't covered by her bra. Undoing her bra, I sucked on her nipples like a hungry babe in arms. I opened her blouse wide and pulling it off of her shoulders, I let my lips and tongue trail their way down her torso to her belly button and lingered there kissing and licking her. Her skirt, hiked up, was no obstacle.

Her bald mons was still untouched; I remedied that now. I traced her slit with my tongue and she jerked spasmodically in reaction to me. I began sucking on her labia, and I wondered if her ex, her other ex, had done much the same; I expected that he had; she was delicious.

I shucked my pants and pressed forward into her. She grimaced as her pussy spread to accommodate me. I screwed her rhythmically and soon she was arching her back to meet my thrusts. She stiffened and held herself rigid as I poured spunk into her. I slid down her body and lapped at her cum filled pussy; she began to shake and shudder in response.

"Oh my God! I've never! No one's ever… " she began babbling incoherently.

Some little time later, leaning back more or less uncomfortably in that all too small back seat, we caught our breath.

"Was that good for you?" I said, my breathing more or less normal again. She turned slowly to face me.

"Is that a serious question?" she said. "Of course it was good for me. "You? Really?"

"Oh yeah," I said. She smiled.

"Thank you my husband. Thank you. We're going to make it this time. Really, you're a lot better than you used to be… " she stopped herself suddenly. "Oh, Jack, I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what I was…"

"Forget it Murphy. Just forget it. It's okay," I said. It wasn't, but I didn't feel like pushing it. It was clear to me that she was still on the picky side in terms of her need for quality sex, something I had not been especially wonderful at providing. And, to make matters a little less that thrilling for me, I now had to recall that my dick had not grown in the years since I'd last had her, not a plus for me for sure. Up until her obviously spur of the moment, unrehearsed remark, I hadn't thought anything about it; I did now, and I would be now. Shit!

Donald brought the twins back the next day at about six in the evening. He didn't come up to the house; he just honked. Murphy went outside to get the girls. She stood by the driver's side of the car for a moment speaking to him; then, she went around to the other side and retrieved my-our-children. That became the routine. She'd deliver the babies Friday evenings to him once a month, and he would return them Sunday evenings. Having him around even for the few minutes required to return the babies was uncomfortable for me, but I didn't make an issue out of it. He was never longer than a couple of minutes and never came up to the house per se.

******

In time, I got over the worst of my insecurities and Murphy and I became a tight and loving couple. I can say without fear of contradiction that we were happy-both of us. A year passed, and another, and another: my fiftieth was fast approaching. The sex thing, especially, between me and Murphy seemed to have been resolved in my favor. That I thought about her earlier complaints, as to my skills, I won't deny, but for those first few years of our remarriage not a thing of a negative nature was ever said or even implied. I had finally been able to relax. And then things changed.

Nelly and Fred were over for a Sunday barbecue when Don once again brought the girls home from their weekend with him. Murphy was setting the patio table when he entered from stage left leading the babies by their hands. He was in the yard! My yard! He could have peed on the Pope's slippers and it would have been less of a sacrilege. I actually dropped a steak into the dirt as I saw him advance toward me behind Murphy and the children.

It must have been clear that I was stunned. Nelly looked at me and smirked. "Close your mouth, slick, before you attract any more flies," she said.

I could feel my eyes narrow; I could actually feel them. Murphy saw and reacted. She reacted in a completely unexpected way.

"Jack, I invited Jack to join us," she said. I know for a fact that I didn't even blink for a noticeable number of seconds. She came up to me and placed a hand gently on my arm. "It's okay isn't it," she said. I tore my gaze from him and looked her in the eyes. I slowly nodded. "It's time, my husband. He does want to be in the children's lives, and that's a good thing, Jack."

"I suppose," I said. "Yeah, it's okay."

"It's cool, Jack," said Fred who had chosen to say nothing about the invasion until that minute. "It's just a barbecue. It's cool to let the past bury the past."

For the rest of the evening, Murphy played the role of the perfect hostess and kept things on an even keel. Mister Don Petty didn't make any untoward moves or say anything that could possibly be construed as being uncool. That I didn't trust him went without saying, but try as I might I could find no fault with his demeanor.

The party wound down, and as he was leaving, Don said his goodbyes making eye contact with me when he did so. His attitude was-what-warm. I waved and said my so long.

The guests gone, Murphy came up behind me as I was scraping the last of the embers from the portable barbecue.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" she said, smiling tentatively.

"No, I guess not," I said without enthusiasm.

"Jack, he is their bio-dad. We, the both of us, have to put the past behind us, bury it and start over. It's time," she said.

"Murphy, he makes me uncomfortable. No, he didn't do or say anything out of line tonight, but what might be behind the facade is what bothers the hell outta me," I said.

"There was no façade, Jack. What you saw was what you will be getting. He has gotten on with his life. And, his is tied to ours for the long haul because of the babies. Please, Jack," she said.

"The past may be buried, Murphy, but I am more than concerned that it could be resurrected. More than concerned, Murphy! I hope I am being clear. I don't wanna be vague, Murphy," I said.

*****

The shop was doing real good. If there is such a thing as a boutique auto body shop, we we're it. We were now at a place where we were handling only high end custom jobs. Our clientele were mostly repeat customers or referrals of repeat customers. The money was good; hell, we were becoming rich. Even Andy was driving a Mercedes-a new one-well, he is an artist.

One result of doing well, really well, is that the boys and their wives and girl friends were frequenting more upscale bistros and restaurants. The kind Donald Petty and his female friend-of-the-month frequented. Getting a hint, dear reader, as to where this is going?

"I swear, Jack, I saw them," said Andy.

******

We'd been to re-together for quite a while now, and I had had no complaints. The food was good, the conversation was good, the emotional support great, and the sex little less than spectacular, at least for me. So what was I going to do about it, now that I had more than Andy's sort of certain ID on the two of them? What am I talking about?

Well, naturally after hearing my employee tell his tale, I had to make sure. I followed her and found them coming out of the same motel that Andy'd seen them emerging from. That after having sat in the motel's parking lot for two hours straight. The long kiss had told me she was looking for more than a bigger cock; there was emotional attachment as well.

Well, and why wouldn't there have been; he was the real father of her babies. Still that said, I was the babies real father too. A helluva mess this one. If I confronted her, I was certain, we were both fucked: she loses me, and I lose her and the babies. And make no mistake; I was more than mildly attached to those two little hearts, and they to me if it came to that.

I drove home having not the slightest idea what I should do. But, for good or ill, the decision was made for me as soon as I got home.

"Daddy's home, daddy's home, daddy's home!" screamed Mercedes as I came in through the kitchen door. I knew right then that I was in no way going to risk being alienated from them. I would grin and bear it and hope it would work itself out. Regardless of any of that, I had to know more.

My decision began a period of off again on again sleuthing on my part. After almost a year of detective work, all done on my own. I discovered the pattern and the probable reasons for her betraying me.

She would get it on with him every couple of months, each time was the day that she would deliver the babies to his house. It had been clear to me, after the very first time I caught them, that an older woman would sit for the children while Don and Murphy left for their assignation. It wasn't every month, but every other month that they went at it. I supposed that that was to minimize the chances of discovery. I wondered if Murphy's sensational performances in bed with me were the result of guilt or what she might have seen as a need to treat me right on some level. How does the old saying go: "Oh what tangled webs we weave when first we practice to deceive."

The interesting part about the whole drama was that at no time was there any evidence to suggest that Murphy didn't love me; it gave me hope.

Additionally, Don was showing up at do's where we were thrown together. Not a single time did I see or otherwise detect any evidence that he held me in contempt or was wanting to separate me from Murphy. We never talked about the past, but he seemed to realize that I was never going to be a close friend to him, and he was good with that; he never pushed it. Murphy for her part stayed out of it. If anything, whenever Don and I were in the same place; she made double sure that I got the attention not him.

I wasn't fond of being a de facto cuckold, even one that was supposedly unknowing. But, nothing was happening that was going to force the issue; not until the babies were grown at any rate; that would be the time of reckoning, if there was to be one, and it was still far away.

******

The babies were near six when I'd discovered Murphy's periodic romps in the hay with Donald Petty. That was some twelve years ago now.

Once the babies had gotten big enough to take care of themselves at home and to visit with him on their own, the excuse for Murphy to be gone for those two hours every other month became her day at the beauty parlor: that inner sanctum where nary a man was to be found unless he were gay. I knew her game of course, and it more or less amused me. For some reason, and I would be hard pressed to express it, I didn't hate her or even him for what they were doing. I think it was partly because it was kind of a rare thing, and didn't intrude even a little bit on any of our plans or activities. That is Murphy's and mine.

******

Things might have gone on as they had forever were it not for the interference of my daughters. And, that's not just some wishful thinking or talk on my part. They had become my very heart and soul, and they knew it and they took advantage of it and I reveled in it!

I was sitting at the patio picnic table in the backyard when they strode up to me.

"Dad, we have to talk," said Maribelle. The first thought that came to mind was "Oh God no, one of 'em's pregnant!" But, that was not it, not by a freakin' country mile.

"Yes?" I said slowly.

"Dad, mom-well-mom is not acting like she should. Doing like she should," said Mercedes.

"Huh?' I said.

"Dad, mom has a lover-kinda," said Mercedes. My look caused them to look at each other and then back at me.

"Daddy?" said Maribelle, cautiously.

"Yes, dear?" I said.

"Daddy, we're not kidding," said Maribelle.

"How do you known this?" I said. I was wondering just how much they really did know.

"We've seen them, daddy. We've even seen them naked together, but not that in a long time," said Mercedes.

"Hmm," I said. "And who might the other man be? If you don't mind my asking."

"Daddy, it's uncle Don?" said Maribelle.

"Hmm, uncle Don," I said.

"Yes, dad. They do it every couple of months or so," said Maribelle.

"And you know this how?" I said.

"Daddy, we've known it since we were little. At first we thought you knew about it. We didn't know what to do. But, you never seemed to be mad at mom or uncle Don; so we just shut up," said Maribelle.

"That's right, dad. But, we've been talking. Maribelle and I went to a psychologist and asked some questions. When we left him we decided to come to you and tell you. You know, in case you really didn't know anything about it," said Mercedes. "Daddy?"

"Yes, Mercedes?" I said.

"Do you know?" she said. I was silent for some few moments. The girls were fidgeting.

"Yes, girls, I've known, almost from the beginning, I guess," I said. I could see them sigh with relief. Mercedes took a seat. Up till that moment both had remained standing.

"Wow!" said Mercedes. "And, you didn't-don't-mind?"

"Hmm, not sure how to answer that, Mercedes. I guess, I do mind, but I am not actually angry or unduly concerned about it. And, yes, I know that that makes little sense; especially to young girls like you two," I said.

Mercedes looked over at her sister. "Well, I guess you win the bet Maribelle; he is okay withy things the way they are," said Mercedes.

"Huh?" I said.

"Maribelle and I had a bet, dad. She bet you'd be okay with mom doing uncle Don in order to keep the peace. I said no, that if you didn't know, and if you found out, you might do something awful to mom or to uncle Don," said Mercedes.

"To begin with girls, I would never hurt your mom or any woman; only seriously low down scum would do something like that. As for uncle Don, I've know for a long time that he felt he'd made a horrendous mistake in opting not to be your full time daddy. It's his lifetime punishment that he can never be that. I have also learned that your mother felt sorry for him and as a result allows him what amounts to mercy fucks every couple of months to let him know that she still has feelings for him and sympathy for him. Similarly, I know your mom loves me unconditionally. How do I know all of this?

"Because I've had our phones tapped for the past ten years," I said. "Trust but verify, as some wise man once said."

"Daddy, you're genius," said Maribelle as she came to me and wrapped her arms around me. Mercedes joined her and we hugged and maybe shed a tear or two for some few minutes.

The three of us made a decision.

******

Dinner was good, the best actually: beef stew. The conversation had been light and not very animated. The girls and I had an agenda, but it would not come to fruition until after dinner. Tonight would be a night of revelations if not reckoning.

"Honey, you seem subdued tonight. No, not subdued, but a little on the quiet side," said Murphy. I looked over at her a wan smile playing on my lips, I was sure.

"Really?" I said. I phrased it as a question. She caught my tone and decided to push it. It was the opening I was looking for.

"So, what's this big mysterious whatever?" she said.

"Murph, the babies aren't babies anymore; they'll be going off to college in the fall. It's been a long time in coming. But, now that it has, we have to clear the decks, again, like we did so many years ago, and come clean with each other," I said. She gave me a questioning look that indicated a little bit of concern.

"Clear the decks?" she said. "I don't understand?"

"Well, it's like this," I said. "I've been keeping something from you for most of the past fifteen years plus. I did it because I didn't want to cause any possible harm to our girls. And, Murph, I absolutely consider them our-yours and mine-girls. I realize that Donald is their biological father, but I'm the one who's been there for them through it all. You have to give me that."

"Yes, Jack, and I do give you that. You've been a wonderful father to the girls. Even Don admits as much. The fact is he envies you," she said. "But…?"

"Well, I thank you for that, and him too," I said. "And, Murphy, you've been keeping something from me for a long time too. Something that you need to come clean about. Fact is that which I have kept from you is that which you've kept from me. But, no more. Tonight we clear the decks." She looked over at the girls, whose looks could only be described as intense.

"Girls?" She returned her gaze to me. "Jack? What's going on here?"

"Murphy, many years ago, I discovered your bi-monthly liaison with Don. I kept quiet about it because by then I was in love with our babies. I was afraid, that if I raised a big stink about it, that you would divorce me, and I would lose them forever," I said.

She sagged back in her chair and turned as pale as a new washed sheet. "Jack-I-I… " she started. I held up my hand to interrupt her. She glanced furtively at the twins.

"Before I go any farther, Murph, I'm gonna ask that you let me finish. This is kinda complicated, and I'm gonna have a hard enough time getting it out. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, Jack," she said. I saw tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes.

"Murph, I, apparently, was not the only one who noticed. The girls noticed too. That said, I didn't know that they knew until yesterday. You can imagine my surprise," I said.

"Mom, Mercedes and I discovered you and uncle Don years ago. We we're in the sixth grade at the time. We knew what was what. We'd never actually saw you naked with him, but we heard the moans and some of the talk," said Maribelle.

"That's right mom. We didn't tell dad because we were afraid of what he might do. But, yesterday we made the decision that he had to know. He has a right to know, mom. You had a duty to be faithful to him and you weren't being faithful," said Mercedes.

"Mom, You've got to stop… " started Maribelle.

"Girls, this is my territory. Mine and your mom's, please, let me finish. Okay?" They nodded, reluctantly, but they nodded their acceptance of my words.

"I've been able, Murph, to kind of piece together the reason for what you've done… " I started.

"Jack, I'm sorry. Okay! If you're going to divorce me. Just say so. Just say so, Jack, and get it over with. Okay?" she said. The tears were coming now and they were little enough, I thought.

I looked at her and shook my head slightly. "Murphy, I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy with what you've done. But, I'm not going to divorce you. Nor, am I going to stop you seeing Don every couple of months." I let that hang in the air for some moments. One could have heard a fly fart it was so quiet.

"Jack?" she said. "What are you doing-going to do?"

"Nothing. Not a thing. Well, just listen to you tell us all why," I said.

After a moment or two, she stood and started pacing back and forth.

"Jack, I don't know if I can," she said. "I've hurt you enough. But I have a question: you mean you really aren't going to kick me out?"

"I'm not going to kick you out, Murphy, not now not ever. If you leave, it will be because you'd rather be with him than with me. It will be your decision," I said.

She shook her head vigorously. "Jack, I'm not going to leave you! Never would I do that," she said.

"Okay, Murphy, so talk," I said. She stood with her hands at her sides and looked directly at me, not even glancing at the girls.

"You know part of it, I'm sure, Jack. In the beginning, when we finally got back together-well-you still weren't much of a lover. Sorry, I don't mean to hurt you, but if we're clearing the decks; then, let's do it.

"And, before I go any further, I would like to assure you that you are a whole lot better today than you ever were then. You can thank Don for that, Jack; he taught me, and I taught you. But…

"The fact is that Don was nothing compared to you as far as husband material was concerned. It just wasn't, and still isn't, in him." She paused and I waved her to go on.

"The other reason that I kept seeing him was only indirectly related to sex believe it or not. He learned too late how important the girls were going to be to him as well as to you and me.

"I would take the girls over to his house for his time with them, and he'd literally cry-literally Jack. He showered them with toys and attention and would be as sad as any man could be when I picked them up. Then one day…

"Well, I held him while he cried, and he kissed me and he felt me up, and then he fucked me. I felt awful for betraying your trust, and I got out of there as fast as I could. He called me a number of times during the next couple of weeks apologizing. But, then it was his weekend again, and he begged me to let him have me each month when I bought them by. I said no. Well, I said no for a long time. Then, one day I said yes. But, then I got to worrying about being discovered, so I told him, no more. But, he came back with a proposal.

"We, made a deal. We'd do it every couple of months. He made the point that doing it, at least infrequently, would let him feel like he was part of the family-kinda through me if that makes any sense. And-I won't deny it-I got my rocks off," she said.

I nodded. "I understand, Murphy. But, even so, when the time came that, as you say now, I was able to measure up sexually, why didn't you stop?"

"It was kind of a habit by then, Jack. It's as simple as that. But, you say you're not going to kick me out. So, I guess I will be breaking the other man's heart. I'll tell you, Jack, it's going to be tough. But, I will do it. I don't love him; I love you. So, the choice is easy, actually," she said. I smiled, even snickered a little.

We hadn't noticed, but the girls had slipped out. I noticed now. "Where are the girls?" I said. She looked over to where they had been ensconced.

"I don't know; I guess I was doing too much staring at the floor too notice," she said.

I looked at my wife and made a strenuous effort to not sound negative or sarcastic or any of that.

"You needn't break off with him or say anything to him, Murphy. Damn me if I understand why, but I'm okay with the status quo. So long as things remain as they are, I see no reason to change the situation. I've been putting up with it for these many years after all. But, there is one requirement that much never breached. He must never know that I am okay with this-never," I said. She looked at me strangely.

"Jack, I think you are the most wonderful husband in the world. Tonight, I will assaulting your very wonderful body with my pussy. You will be fortunate to survive it," she said. She was sobbing and shaking and shaking her head like she couldn't believe the turn of events.

I held her for some minutes while she calmed down. "Is there any reason we have to wait until tonight?" I said. We both started laughing; that, as we headed for the bedroom.

-----------------------------

   Series:Nina and Mikey
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A man, screwed over in his divorce, gets an offer--from his ex.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/58078/nina-and-mikey
Published:2008-10-14
I was typing away on my borrowed PC minding my own business when I heard a knock-knock-knocking on my chamber door. I am tempted to say, "Quoth the Raven nevermore." But no, that would be taking unfair advantage of the readership.

I had taken the apartment in the low rent area near the projects because it was all I could afford, and it was close to the private school that I am an all around handyman at. It's a one bedroom walkup in a dilapidated and all but condemned tenement in South Central L.A. I work daytimes at St John's high school cleaning up and keeping the electrical and plumbing operating. This is a major task considering the aging state of the electrical and plumbing apparatus that I have to work with.

Anyway with rent and food and utilities and the occasional new shirt or pair of shoes, I don't have much money left over for anything else. That's why I am typing at 7:00 at night. The extra money I make typing up papers for lazy minority kids, minority kids whose parents are well off, brings in enough for me to keep my child support payments up to date. At any rate, the person knocking on my door, whoever it is, is messin' with my livelihood. Reluctantly, I decided to answer it.

"Nina," I said, surprised to see my ex-wife of fifteen years standing in the hall.

"Hello Mikey," she said. She walked in without so much as being asked. But, that was Nina. She never had stood on ceremony and rules of any kind were alien to her. "You're kinda hard to find." I just stared at her. I hadn't known she'd been looking. I hadn't seen her in months, except when visiting the kids, and not even then most times. The divorce? That'd been more than eight years ago.

"Yeah, I just moved in here a couple of months ago," I said.

She was dressed to kill. But, whoever she was going to kill, it sure as hell wasn't me. Like I said, she'd divorced me and totally cleaned me and my business out in the doing eight years ago.

"You're looking prosperous," I said. I was still trying to become unshocked by her sudden and unexpected appearance after so long a time at my door. "Where's Malcom?" Malcom Brady was of course was the interloper she had dumped me for.

"He's home," she said. She looked good at age forty-three. The dress alone must have cost her a couple hundred dollars. She still wore her brown hair in cascading curls down past her shoulders, and her five-nine frame and her porcelain complexion would still be traffic stoppers, I was sure of that. Well anyway, it was clear to me she and lover boy were enjoying the fruits of my old business and her earnings as a surgical nurse. "Got time for a bite to eat?"

"I was just gonna put something in the microwave," I said. "I have to work tonight?"

Her eyes glanced over toward the computer. I had to wonder why the hell she was inviting me to dinner, but looking her over made me think of other things; she knew it too.

"Working?"

"Uh-yes, I do a little tutoring and clerical for some of the students," I said. The school I work at loaned me the computer, so you can't have it," I said, my meaning clear. She just frowned.

"Yes, I heard you were working at St. John's," she said. "That's how I found you. One of my coworker's kids goes there.

"What about dinner?" she repeated.

I was curious. I had just gotten a $100 bonus, so I decided why not; the bills were paid. Also, I hadn't seen the kids since she'd sent them off to boarding school at the beginning of the term. It would be a chance for me to hear about them, hopefully.

"Okay, but I don't have a car," I said.

"Never mind that, I do," she said. I got my windbreaker and followed her out.

She drove us to the Sandcastle, a fancy bistro near the beach. Inside we were seated, and the maître 'd seemed to know her. I saw her signal him about something, God knows what.

It finally occurred to me to ask what it was that had brought her to my door. "So, Nina, to what do I owe this-surprise-tonight," I said.

She smiled at me. "Mikey, I-we-Malcom and I were talking… " she paused.

"Yes?" I said.

"Well, we-I-I've been thinking a lot about the divorce," she said.

"Well, that's history now," I said. "Not much either of us can do about that I don't suppose. You got me good, so if you want more you can forget it; I'm just getting' by."

"No, no, I'm not here to make your life harder," she said, "quite the opposite in fact." This was interesting. Nina had little in the way of conscience; so whatever she was going to say, I was going to have to weigh the cost to me. And, I felt certain that there would be a cost.

"Yeah, well, I am kinda enjoying my poverty now," I said, getting a gentle swipe in. She ignored it.

"How are you doing, Mikey, really?" She could clearly see my straights, but evidently wanted me to confirm them orally, or maybe beg her for a handout. Well, she wasn't going to get her way if that's what it was. I might be broke, but I've got my pride.

"Okay," I guess. Like I said, I'm getting by."

"Got a girlfriend?" she asked, looking sidelong at me in that way she had of tantalizing me, and for that matter any male, that I knew so well. "Nina, I'm forty-six and broke. Look how I'm dressed. Do I look like I have much to offer or to attract a woman? But, to answer your question, no I don't have a girlfriend. Satisfied?"

She looked embarrassed, "Mikey, I didn't mean-really-I'm sorry," she said. "It's none of my business." She sounded like she really meant it, but with Nina one could never be sure.

"I'm okay, Nina. Just leave it at that. Being married to you was enough for any man. Certainly it was for me. Just leave it," I said.

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry, really.

"Mikey, would you like to come back to work-run-the hardware store?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"It's a big store and it needs a lot of running. And well, you know the business better than anyone. And frankly, Malcom isn't much good at it, I mean the business. We'd pay you well," she said, finally.

So there it was. She was evidently having trouble running the store, or more succinctly, her lazy-ass hubby wasn't up to the job. The irony was that she was offering to pay me for running my own business, or what used to be my business, the one she'd screwed me out of. Adding insult to injury, she'd be my boss-and Malcom. I had to repress a laugh.

"I don't think so, Nina. I can't feature myself working for you, and certainly not for good 'ole Malcom," I said, without apparent rancor. "Not, after everything-all of the water under the bridge."

"Mikey, I can see you need the money. And, well we-I-could use you," she said. I didn't say that in point of fact she'd used me pretty good already.

My pride was hurt. Boy was she good at hurting my pride. She'd seen my apartment, my clothes, knew I had no car. Well, it was all because she'd cleaned me out, and at age forty-six there weren't a lot of places looking to hire me at top dollar, or even medium dollar. So I got by just barely avoiding welfare. Looking at her, I figured she would probably double what I was making now, which would have been about one fifth of what I used to pay myself. The insult to my pride alone would prevent me from taking the job.

"No, I don't think so," I said. "I'm doing okay. I just came into some cash too, so things are looking up." I wasn't lyin'; my bonus was extra cash.

"Well, I'm disappointed, Mikey. I really would like having you around," she said. "Would you at least think about it? I've always felt bad about how the divorce went, but you know lawyers; I-we-just did what he told us to do. I'd like to make it up to you some if you'd let me." She sounded sincere, but I still had my doubts. She'd looked mighty happy when the gavel had finally come down on my head. And, it had taken her eight damn years to start feeling bad about what she and asshole had done to me.

"Yeah, well, don't be a stranger," I said, managing to not sound too sarcastic.

She nodded.

We talked about the kids, the food came, we ate, and then the bill arrived; it was $88. I handed the man my $100 bill. "Keep the change," I said, a little too grandly.

"Mikey, I was going to pay," said Nina, genuinely surprised that I'd beat her to it.

"Oh no. I ain't goin' that route," I said. "I'm the guy, I pay. I got my pride." She was a little disconcerted, but had the good grace to thank me and not make a public issue of it. I coulda used the C-note, but easy come easy go, I thought. Like I said, I have my pride.

We drove in silence back to my apartment. Pulling up, I got out, leaned back in through the window, and thanked her for the nice dinner and the job offer.

"It, the job offer's, still open, Mikey. Just call and it's yours," she said. I just waved and headed back in. I watched through the glass door as her T-bird disappeared up the street.

I thought about all that water under the bridge that we'd spoken of. I'd lost everything, largely because of her and her boyfriend. She'd made me hire him as an accountant. This of course was before I knew she was screwing him.

By the time I'd finally caught her sucking his cock in the stock room, I was essentially broke and owing back taxes. The lawyers had cut me a deal. I'd keep my car-since sold for cash-my personal stuff, and my 401k. And, alimony would not be an issue; she was planning to marry the motherfucker anyway; so I wouldn't have had to pay it for very long in any case. The price for such generosity? I'd sign over my business to the two of them. Plus, she got the house and primary custody of Robbie and Jennifer, ages seven and nine respectively at the time; I did get liberal visitation, but she'd messed with that too whenever it'd suited her convenience.

Apart from all of that, the rest of our personal possessions were divided up fifty-fifty, except her fifty percent was bigger than my fifty percent. Well, I didn't want the furniture and she did, whatever.

The boarding school she'd shipped them off to had a court order attached to it that allowed me to visit to kids whenever I wanted, but it was 100 miles away, so I didn't get up there as much as I would have liked. ******

The T-bird pulled into the ranch style split level, and she got out. She leaned back against the car's side clearly lost in thought. Going into the house, her husband of eight years, Malcom Brady, smiled. "Well did he go for it?" he said.

"No. His pride won't let him. He even paid for the dinner if you can believe it. You know, it's been eight years, and I think the guy still has the hots for me."

"Yeah well dinky dick didn't have what it took then, and I doubt if he does now," snickered Malcom. "I never understood what you saw in him anyway. He's short, he's damn near dickless, and he's a wimp."

"Yes, he's short. Yes, his dick isn't much. But, he has a soul, Malcom, he's a good guy. I should never have let you and that lawyer talk me into fucking him over like that. He didn't deserve it."

"Well, if you feel so sorry for him, sell him back his business. That's plan-B anyway isn't it?" he said.

"I didn't ask him about that tonight; the time wasn't right. I did offer him the job, but that was not happening. He turned me down cold. He would never work for me now, and especially not for you," she said. "Unless, you know, he get's desperate…"

"Well, you knew that going in.

"Is he as poor as your friend said he was?" said Malcom.

"Yeah, he is. He's got a small apartment, but no car; and I think it cost him most of his ready cash to pay for the dinner tonight. I feel guilty as hell about that. I had to be an asshole and choose a place like the Sandcastle."

"The Sandcastle? You took him there. Did he wear a tie?" said Malcom.

"No, and Sam didn't require it when I waved him off," she said. "I'm just glad Mikey didn't see me do it. That would have been too embarrassing for words. When we started driving, I just kinda went there not thinking about the formality of the place. Originally, like I told you, I'd just planned to have us go to Denny's; but oh no, I had to play the big role."

Malcom laughed. "It's kinda funny if you think about it."

"Yeah right. Making a guy whose already been screwed over eat shit. Yeah that's really funny-not," said Nina.

"Well, I think it is," said Malcom. ******

Talking to Nina had peaked my interest in getting to see the kids as soon as possible. Jen was seventeen now, and Rob was fifteen. They were no longer the babies that they had been. I had to make the effort to get up there at least once every couple of weeks; I just had to.

The cost of the gas would be a challenge for me, but I'd figure something out. My finances were pretty thin, but there had to be a way. I decided to go up tomorrow; it was Friday, but it was one of those Catholic holy days, so I wouldn't have to ask for a day off.

I pulled into the parking lot of Ojai Preparatory just about noon. It had been a four hour drive up from South Central L.A because of the traffic on the coast highway. I'd had to borrow a car from Mr. Jacobs, the assistant principal of the school, but I would pay his kindness back at some point and he knew it. At least it had saved me having to take the bus, my usual modus operandi when I'd gone up there.

Arriving, I headed for the administration office. I was still sitting there when the kids came in. Jen ran to me and hugged me big time. Robbie was a little more reserved, but he had a big smile on his face. I felt good. It had been worth the effort to come.

"Hi daddy," said Jen. "We have so missed you."

"No more than I've missed you," I said.

"Hi Dad," said Robbie. "Jen is right, we have missed you."

We talked for almost an hour, their lunch hour. But, I planned to stay and wait for school to be out anyway and take them to MacDonald's. We'd tank up on calories there, so it wouldn't be so bad for them missing the cafeteria's offerings.

We had the big booth in the back of the colorful fast food giant. We talked forever.

"Guys," I said, "how come your mom sent you all the way up here, anyway? Do you know? Did you ask for this? I mean it's nice and all…"

"Dad, we sorta asked for it, I guess. We don't like the asshole. I mean he and mom make a lot of money, him an accountant and her a nurse; but they treat us like ornaments. They decorate us with clothes and stuff, but they're never around, and when they are asshole acts like were in the way. Stephanie goes here, and she gave us the idea." Stephanie Colter had been my, our, next door neighbor's daughter.

"Really," I said, mulling over her words.

"There's something else too, dad. Something mom said," said Robbie.

I just looked at him, waiting.

"She said that it might be a good idea to send us up here because maybe then you'd come back to the store and work for us. I used to help out around there weekends, and the store isn't like it used to be. I hear them arguing about it sometimes," said Robbie.

What the kids told me made me think. Could it be that the dynamic duo really did need me to run the store?

It began to get late, and I had to get them back to the school. Curfew, as I knew, was sundown. We promised to keep emailing each other, and I promised to somehow get up to visit them more often.

On the way back, I figured out how I was going to be able to see them more often in person. I made the call to Nina's cell; the one she'd given me at dinner just a few days before.

"Hi Nina… Yes it's me… Uhuh, I have… yes, I'll take the job… yeah, but you know I don't have a car yet… No, I'll take the bus up there to the Valley. I've done it before… no, I'll take the bus… we still have to talk about my income and all… yeah… tomorrow afternoon… three o'clock is good… bye." I hung up.

Even though it was Saturday the bus ride took me more than an hour and a half because of all of the stops. It would have been half that in a car. I had to somehow get a car and soon. One cannot live in Southern California without a car at least not easily. Not if one has a family.

I had to walk a mile and a half from the depot to the Denny's she'd chosen to meet with me at. Before I entered, I wondered if I would actually kowtow to her, when it got down to it, and actually take the job. I needed the money if I wanted to see my kids regularly, and I did, in the worst way. So fuck my pride; I had to do it; no matter how painful it was for me personally.

She was sitting a t table near the window about halfway back.

"Hi," she said, actually rising to greet me. She took my hand in both of hers and pulled me to a seat at the table. This was so unlike the Nina I knew, I thought, as I took the proffered seat.

"I was so glad to hear your voice and that you would come back to help us."

I didn't like the "us" part, but I wasn't going to make a big deal out of it at least for the moment.

"Hi back atcha, I'm glad you're glad," I said.

"We'll make a good team," she said, "just like in the old days. Malcom is happy you decided to join us too. He wanted to come, but I thought that maybe this first meeting…"

"Uh-yeah.

"I'm here Nina because, after thinkin' about it, I figured my pride wasn't worth the financial pain," I said. "I do need the money. But, Nina…"

"What hon?" she said.

"I don't want to start off on the wrong foot or anything-but-please believe me, I won't have anything to do with the man that, well, came between us. You gotta make him know that, or I walk. I walk now. I'll deal with you of course; you're the boss, but I can't handle bein' around him at all. I won't cause any waves, but I just can't be around him."

"I-I-understand," she said. "I think we can work that out. We'll just take it a day at a time and not worry about it now, okay?"

"Okay," I said. "Now for the details. How much? You said you'd pay me well. How well?"

"You're making what now," she said, "seventeen thousand?"

I looked at her wondering how she'd found out my salary. My look must have betrayed my embarrassment at her knowing.

"I checked," she said. I shouldn't have, seeing your look I realize that now; it was rude of me.

I didn't look happy. I nodded. "Yeah, about that much," I said, finally. I was totally humiliated. I shouldn't have been. She knew that I was poor, but her knowing how poor was somehow worse. "How much are you offering?"

"How does thirty thousand sound?" she said brightly. I was wrong, she hadn't offered me double, but close.

I nodded. "Okay," I said, "beggars can't be choosers I guess." Well, I was disappointed. I really had wanted a minimum of thirty-four. No good reason, but I'd kinda set my mind on that amount. Still, I was more or less mollified by her next announcement.

"Mikey, I'd like to give you more, but the store isn't doing too well right now, and well, if it does better we can renegotiate," she said. "But there is one more thing. The company does have an old Ford pickup. It runs good, and you can have it to use once you start working. Is that okay?" She looked concerned at my overall reaction; she could see that the money wasn't what I'd hoped for, I guess.

But, now I finally had a reason to smile. "Yes, that's fine," I said. "I appreciate your offer. It's better than anything that's been coming my way lately. And, the truck will be a big help."

She released a sigh. "Thank heavens," she said. "I was afraid you might turn us down. Anyway, I am so happy to have you back-at the store I mean," I'd caught her double entendre and wondered if it were some kind of Freudian slip. I put the idea out of mind, I supposed it was not. We talked some more.

"Okay, we're agreed then. You'll start officially two weeks from Monday," she said.

"Yes, and I'll be in on weekends starting tomorrow. I have to give notice at the school, and even two weeks is hardly enough. But, I need to start making some money," I said. What I didn't say was that I had to start as soon as possible if I wanted to see my kids the sooner. ******

Nina:

Well that's that. I finally got my ex to come back and do what he does best-sell hardware. Now, Malcom and I can stop merely breaking even and calling it a win; it hasn't been even close to being a winning situation. But a million dollar business needs a million dollar manager, and Mikey is one; neither Malcom nor I, on the other hand, qualify.

Mikey will make the business prosperous again. As he used always say; "baby, that's a dead-mortal-lead-pipe-cincheroonie!" Could I have gotten someone else to do the job? Maybe, but not for sure. And, so far Malcom had not found anyone near as capable as Mikey. Mikey I'm sure of. And yes, there were other reasons for wanting him running the business.

Malcom and I had fucked him over good in the divorce; talk about a pyrrhic victory. And frankly, I'd never felt right about it. Mikey had never hurt me, but I'd sure as hell hurt him. Then I'd raped him in the divorce. Oh Malcom was a more than willing participant, but in the end it was all me; I was the one married to the man.

And again, if the truth be told, I still felt something for the little shrimp. He is the kindest and sweetest man, and there are times when…

Then there are the kids. They love him. They love him more than they love me. I know it. Sometimes it hurts too. I suppose, deep down, it was to partially separate them from him that I sent them to Ojai to go to school. There was a secondary reason too though. I knew Mikey was hurting financially, I'd checked-a dirty trick, but I had to know.

Once I knew that he was all but broke, I also knew that sooner or later there was a good chance he'd accept my job offer just so he could see the kids more often; it costs money to travel a hundred miles.

Hey, but my little bit of plotting has created a win-win situation. He gets what he wants and needs, and Malcom and I get someone who really does know how to run the business. Sometimes you gotta use the tools you have handy to get the job done.

I'm gonna do some more investigating too.

Somehow, I'm gonna make all of this work for me, for all of us.

I sigh a lot these days. Divorce is such a nasty, hurtful business. I sometimes think about Mikey. I think about his little dick all five inches of it; I compare it in my mind to Malcom's eight inches. Size does matter to a girl, especially if she's a big girl like me. I'm three inches taller than Mikey too, and in heels, which I Love to wear, I tower over him. Funny, but it never bothered me much when we were dating. He was so funny, and intelligent. And he was a wonderful dancer. He knew all of the Latin dances, and boy could that man jitterbug-my favorite thing in the whole world.

And he has a great looking body. He just wasn't any good in bed, at least not with his teenie-weenie. That said…

There are times, when I wonder if a big dick and a taller husband is worth all of the tradeoffs. Well, it hardly matters now. But, I am determined to make it up to Mikey to some degree. For one thing he is definitely going to get a raise as soon as the business can sustain it, and that's a promise I am making to myself right now, a big raise too. Malcom can fuck himself if he doesn't like it; his dick isn't that big. ******

The meeting with Mikey has had me climbing the walls since I left the restaurant. I am so hot that if that husband of mine doesn't get his ass home pretty soon I'm gonna hunt him down and shoot him-after I rape him of course!

The kitchen door slammed. "Damn it Mal!"

"Sorry," he said, "I was carrying some groceries, and I had to use my foot to close it." I had to laugh when he came around the corner from the kitchen and saw me. "Jesus! You're gorgeous," he said.

"Why thank you prince charming," I said.

Standing in the middle of the room, naked, except for my stockings and high heels, I pretty much had this specimen of malehood where I wanted him, and I knew it. I beckoned him with my finger. He came towards me, and I could see he was shaking in anticipation of what was about to occur. I turned my back to him.

I sensed rather than felt him fall to his knees and bury his face in my ass cheeks. I loved being worshipped, and he was worshipping me now. He licked my anus lovingly. "God you're good," he said.

"Of course," I said, haughtily.

I felt him begin to pull me down to the floor with him. He was going to do me right there. "Oh my," I said. "Oh my! Be careful of my legs. That's better. Yeah, just let them rest there on your shoulders."

"You got it," he said.

My legs were straight up in the air. I felt him start to push into me.

"Uhhggg," I groaned, "slower, you're too big."

"Not like your wimpy ex, huh?" he said.

"Just shut the fuck up and do me, okay. Leave my ex out of it." I wanted his cock, but I didn't need his comments. I almost lost my interest because of his uncalled for nastiness.

He started pounding into me. I surrendered to him and mewed as he fucked me to an orgasm. He let my legs drop to the floor. I lay still and spread wide as he filled me with this cum. I let my eyes shut in the afterglow.

"Good for you?" he asked, inordinately proud of himself.

"Hmm," I said. Then, I began to think of Mikey. He probably hadn't had any sex in a long time. Why did this man have to bring him up? He knew it would upset me. It would serve this nitwit right if I let Mikey have me, just for old time's sake of course. I'd have to think about that. I'm pretty sure I could interest him. I could get him off no trouble if I really decided to go for it. ******

Being back in my store was a good feeling. The conditions were shit, having to be an employee of my ex, but being back was hard to describe it was so good.

My first day back was Sunday, and all I did was move around, observe, say hello to old friends that used to work for me, and accept a whole lot of sincere welcome backs-a few even from old time customers. Did I say I felt good!

I was heading for the coffee station to grab me a cup when I was held up by the bookkeeper. "Hi, Mr. Kellerman. We, all of us, are so glad your back," said Mary Tyler. "Things haven't been so good, especially this last year."

"Hi Mary. What's been the problem?" I asked, really wanting to hear what she had to say.

"Oh Mr. Kellerman, business has been off; and Mrs. Brady had to let Sam and Harlan go. We all felt terrible for them. Sam is working for Walmart now, and Harlan is still unemployed, or so I hear. It's sad, Mr. Kellerman."

I nodded. I had to talk to Nina. I had to know who was going to have the authority to handle personnel. I should have as the manager, but I well knew that Nina had veto power, and so did the asshole in the final analysis. I knew too that Malcom had not gotten along with Harlan. Harlan had early on warned me that Malcom had been coming on to my wife, and when I had confronted her about it, I had mentioned Harlan as the bearer of tales. That, I guessed, pretty much sealed his fate after the divorce. But, I wanted him back. I was expecting my first problem because of that bit of history.

It was 8:00PM and I was standing a few feet from Jack Stuart the night man as he was closing up. We were just turning to head out when Nina pulled up out front of the store. She waved me over.

"Hi Jack," she said, waving at him. He waved back.

"Come on, Mikey," she said, "let's have a drink." I nodded my acceptance. It would be a good time to talk to her about Harlan and Sam.

Her T-bird was a nice ride, and it was a fast ride. She got us to the Nite Owl in about seven minutes: a ten mile run!

"How about something to eat, first," she said. "And I pay, no arguments."

I chuckled. "Okay. What's the most expensive thing on the menu?" I said. She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Chateau Briand."

"Good." I closed the menu.

The waitress, a twenty-something nymphet arrived to take our orders. "And you miss?"

"Uh-Chateau Briand," said Nina. "Oh, and glass of Chateauneuf du Pape '85."

"And you sir?"

"A cheeseburger and a Lite beer," I said.

"What!" flamed Nina.

"I'm afraid I am too much of a plebian to imbibe French wines," I said, laughing out loud. She was miffed.

We talked about nothing for a while. The food came and in between guffaws we chewed and ate and had a good time. And then it was time for business.

"So, how was your first day back," she said.

"Good. I talked to a lot of the old hands who were still there. But uh-"

"Yes?" said Nina.

"Harlan and Sam were gone," I said. "I wanna bring 'em back. I assume, since I'm the manager that personnel decisions are mine."

"Mikey-I-I mean of course." She was clearly uncomfortable.

"What were you going to say, Nina? We gotta have everything out in the open or this little relationship isn't going to work," I said.

She fidgeted. "Mikey, Harlan and Malcom…"

"Yes, I know they aren't bosom buddies. But, this is business. So I'm askin', do I have the authority or not?" I said.

She sighed. I knew there was going to be a spirited discussion at home tonight for Nina. But, this is one I had to win on several levels. Number one, either I was the manager or I was just a figurehead, and that is what I told her. "Nina, I know Malcom isn't going to like it much, but either I'm the manager or I'm a figurehead. If the latter, I'm gone. I will not be a powerless buffoon."

She had on a look that could only be described as sad. I still had feelings for her even after eight years. But, I had to have this my way or not at all. I felt sorry for this woman, my ex-wife; I didn't want to cause her any trouble, but it looked like in this instance it couldn't be avoided.

"Okay, Mikey. You're right. I'll make it good with Malcom," she said.

"You know, Mikey, in spite of everything, Malcom is a good man. He loves me, and I love him. We have our differences from time to time. But, he takes care of me and tries hard. He just isn't worth a damn when it comes to running a business and neither am I. He knows it; I know it; that's why we asked you to come back. In a sense you are being asked to save a business that once did two million in gross annual sales. Now, it's down to a quarter of that. I guess what I'm getting at is, can you turn it around?" She paused and looked me straight in the eye.

"Yes, if you stay out of my way and let me do my thing," I said.

"Okay, that's good enough for me," she said. "I promise, Malcom will not cause you any problems. Hire Sam and Harlan back if you want. But, Mikey, the business has to fund any increased payroll. Okay? I mean that's why we're payin' you the big bucks," she said, laughing.

"Absolutely," I said, but I wasn't laughing. "One thing, do you think I could get that truck you mentioned tonight? I sure could use it."

She smiled. "Of course, Mikey." We had a few drinks and talked some more about staffing and supply. I was able to gather that "out of stocks" had been a big part of the decline in sales. I'd have to look into that; that was a biggee. A store couldn't increase its sales if it didn't have anything to sell. Oh yes, I would be looking into that and soon.

She drove me to her house; it used to be our house, and got the keys to the truck. I waited in the car while she went inside. She was back outside in minutes. Malcom came out with her and waved to me from the stoop. I waved back; I figured we wouldn't be dealing with each other much, but on those rare occasions when we did, we'd need to be civil to each other.

With the truck, I now had the wheels I needed, not only for the job, but to be able to see Jennifer and Robbie too. That I was dependent on my ex for the largesse rankled, but what the heck, what is, is, I told myself. ******

I had driven to the store after hours every day since that first Sunday. Technically I wouldn't be full time until the 15th, two weeks after that first day. But, I had loved that store and I was determined to get it back on its feet.

I saw Nina every time I was there. That kind of bothered me. I had the feeling I was being watched. I knew that was being paranoid, but it's how I felt.

Having gotten in touch with both Sam and Harlan through Mary, I was able to meet with them and persuade them to return on the same day that I was officially starting. Harlan especially was thankful. He'd fallen on hard times. Sam was working, but Walmart was a far cry both in pay and the type of work that he had been used to for more than twenty years.

Mary pulled me aside after my meeting with the two men.

A little bit about Mary. She was forty, six years younger than me, and three years younger than Nina. Where Nina was tall and athletic, Mary was short and petite. She was small in every department: height, weight, and bra size. But, she was sharp as a tack. She could have been an accountant, but she hadn't been able to afford college, so bookkeeping was her stopping point.

She was cute too. Turned up nose, medium length brown hair, and she always smelled great, female. "Mikey, I want to tell you that I appreciate you going to bat for Sam and Harlan. All of us old timers feel that way," she said.

"No problem, Mary, as far as I'm concerned it was a no brainer. I'm gonna need them, especially Sam, to handle inventory and resupply. I'll be assigning Harlan to work with him in that regard," I said.

She smiled. "Mikey, do you have plans for tomorrow night?" she said.

I looked at her questioningly. "No, not really. Why do you ask?"

"Would you be my escort to a little dance thingy I have been wanting to go to forever," she said. "Uh-yes-sure," I said. "Heck, I haven't been dancing since… " I didn't finish. I was about to say since my divorce.

The few dates these past years had turned to shit, so a night out dancing with an old friend would be great. I was going to be rusty, but not that rusty.

"Great. Do you remember where I live?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, over on Oak, right?" I said.

"Yes, that's right," she said. "Seven o'clock okay by you?"

"Yeah, but where will this shindig be happening?" I asked.

"At the Moonlight Ballroom downtown," she said. "It's actually a contest we'll be entering. I remember that you used to be really good.

"I've gotten to be okay myself, actually." She beamed with pride.

I breathed a sigh of relief that it was the Moonlight. But, I thought I'd better ask anyway. "Is there an entry fee?"

"Don't worry about that," she said, "I'm paying."

I threw up my hands. "Okay then," I said. I was actually looking forward to it. Nina and I had won several contests in the old days. But, that was then and this was now. I didn't know if Nina had kept up with her dancing, but I doubted it. Malcom didn't seem like the kind that would like competitive dancing. ******

Mary looked like a million bucks, and her dress looked like it cost that much. Jesus, she looked good! I didn't look too bad. I still fit into my dancin' shoes, and my suit fit me perfectly. But, I didn't begin to compare with her.

"You look terrific," I said.

"You look pretty good yourself, mister," she said.

"Let's get going. I can hardly wait," I said. And, I couldn't. I was excited about something and that for the first time in eight years! We got to the venue a little early. The refreshments bar was open and we helped ourselves.

"Mary, I have to ask. Why don't you have a regular guy to take you to this do? I mean I'm thrilled. Actually, I'm excited for the first time in a long time. But you? You look great. There has to be a hundred guys trying to get you to go out with them," I said.

"I've had offers," she said. "For dates. But not this kind of date. There aren't many men who can even spell Paso Doble. You on the other hand-can." Her smile was infectious. I started to chuckle.

We talked and laughed and told ourselves how wonderful it would be if we won. That, I knew was going to be a tall order. We'd have fun, but the experienced hoofers were going to kill us when it got to the more difficult dances. Heck, we hadn't practiced at all, and practice was everything in competitive dancing.

The dancers were finally swirling and twirling around the floor and so were we. We didn't look to bad, I didn't think. Better than some. And, it was due to the skill and feel for the timing that the woman I was with possessed, not the rusty if enthusiastic talents of her partner. The Waltz was first; then, a succession of Latin dances. And, Shock of shocks, we made the initial cut. We were in the top half of the group.

"Hi Mary," called out a woman in her fifties, as we passed their table during the break. "You guys look great. Who's your handsome beau?" said the woman.

Hi, Harriet. This is Michael Kellerman. He's my boss," she said looking up at me.

I nodded. "Actually, she's my boss tonight," I said. "She's got the moves and I've got the rust, I'm afraid."

"Not from what I've seen, young man, you two look good out there. Hope you make finals."

We laughed and headed for our table. There were two other couples sharing it, and we engaged them in conversation. All in all it had been a nice evening-so far.

The break ended and the swirl of rhythmic bodies went to war. If it had been a shock to make the initial cut, it was absolutely stunning to make the top ten.

"Mary, I don't know how we've gotten this far. But this next Sunday we're both going to church to thank God, because no way we did this without divine intervention. I mean you're good, but I haven't danced in eight years-at all.

After the dust settled, we were in possession of two small strips of ribbon at whose ends dangled little bronze coins. We'd placed third! The boost to my ego was beyond telling, and Mary was nothing short of effusive.

We headed to Concho's, a country western bar-cum-dancehall. By the time we were ready to go home; the barkeep had pulled Mary's keys. We were both sloshed. I had my truck but it was back at the store; we'd come in her Corolla. The keep got us a cab.

"Mikey, you're stayin' at my place tonight. It ain't much, but it's comfy," she said. I tried to demur, but frankly all I wanted to do was sleep at that point; so my protestations of impropriety pretty much fell on deaf ears.

I wasn't sure what time we'd gotten in, but I was even more confused about where I was. That after having been cruelly awakened by the sun god; that's the last fatted calf he'd ever get from me for damn sure!

I rolled to my right and bumped into sleeping beauty! "Jesus! Mary!"

"Hmmmmm," she noised. She licked her lips. "Mary! What-"

She was fast regaining consciousness. "Oh, I guess we passed out here last night. Don't fret big boy; I didn't take advantage of you," she laughed, or started to before she realized she was in pain.

I lay back down, and tried to get a handle on the previous night's events. "We won didn't we?" I said. "I mean we really won."

"Third," she said. "Not bad for a first time. I mean the two of us."

"No shit. I can't believe it. It must be true about what they say about riding a bicycle. "You gonna stay partners with me?" she asked. She was being very serious.

"Uh-sure-if you're sure you want me to," I said.

"I'm sure. We make a good team," she said. ******

It was the Saturday after my third week working at the store. Things had gone well, slow but well. We were getting product in basically on consignment. And that, I was gratified to learn, was because some of the vendors remembered me and were willing to cut us some short term slack.

Harlan and Sam were doing a great job controlling inventory and the buying. I was the final arbiter of all things, but they knew almost as much as me, so I was fast becoming a rubber stamp.

At noon, I was about to walk down the street for lunch at the diner when Nina showed up. And, she had cargo: Jennifer and Robbie.

"Jen! Rob! It's so good to see you," I said, smiling broadly. I looked over at Nina. She was grinning.

"I thought it would be a nice surprise," she said.

"It sure is," I said. "Let's all go to lunch." We got to Ma&Pa;'s diner and order the greasiest stuff on the menu. Nina and I talked, and the kids talked; it was almost like old times. Until…

"I hear you were dancing at the Moonlight," she said.

"Yeah. I went with Mary. She's very good, you know," I said.

"No, I didn't know she was into the scene, but I am glad for you, Mikey, you deserve to have a life. I mean a social life," she said. I could tell she was being sincere. Then, I had to ask.

"Do you dance anymore," I asked.

"No. Malcom isn't in to it," she said. I should have felt guilty about what I was thinking right then, but I didn't: a big dick isn't everything for damn sure.

"Oh, too bad," I said. "You're good. I mean you were last I knew." I knew I'd made her feel bad, so I tried to make it right. "You should come with us sometime. I'm sure Mary wouldn't mind. Bring Malcom too if you want." After I'd said it I knew I'd touched a nerve, a raw nerve. Well, the best laid plans of mice and men, or so the saying goes.

"No, I don't think so, Mikey, but thanks for asking," she said. I had the feeling that she was about to cry, but I brushed it aside.

I kissed the kids goodbye. I told them that I would see them next week. They left with their mother; they were staying over for the weekend.

Back at the store I had another surprise. Malcom was there, and he was talking to Harlan. I interrupted.

"Got a problem, anyone," I said coming up to them.

"No, I'm making something clear to our employee here," said Malcom.

"May I speak to you for a moment," I said, steering him away from Harlan, who looked nervous as hell.

"Look, Malcom. I thought we had an agreement. You're accounting; I'm operations. Now, is that so or is it not. Tell me now," I said, not blinking.

"Listen, Mikey, I own the place, me and Nina. We let you bring that rumor monger back, but don't push it, okay?"

"Rumor monger? Are you serious! You listen. Stay away from Harlan. You're only gripe with him is the fact that he outted you and Nina fucking around behind my back. That's ancient history now, and what is, is. So leave the man alone; I need his expertise, his and Sam's. Got it."

"You just remember who pays the bills here and signs the checks," he said, and he turned and left.

I was furious. But, I was in a bad position. I couldn't be running to momma every time his highness came around. I had figured there'd be some of this, but I was hoping I'd be given some room at least at the beginning. But, as it happened, I didn't need to run to momma. Nina knew before her husband's footprints were cold on the store's floor. And, I soon knew why. ****** "Got a few bucks to buy a girl a dinner," asked Mary as I was coming out of the back store room.

I started, but recovered nicely. "Sure bet," I said. "Got my first check yesterday. You caught me flush," I said.

She smiled, "I know," she said, "I'm the bookkeeper."

"Yeah, I forgot," I said.

Dinner was good. Italian at Gino's. "We gotta practice more if we want to move up," I said, talking about our dancing. We'd been getting together maybe twice a week for the past few weeks, just working the kinks out, but top competitors worked out five times a week, and often more.

"Yeah, I'm game. But until you finally move up here and get an apartment… I mean it's a thirty mile drive from down there. The gas alone is gonna kill yuh," she said.

"Yeah, tell me about it," I said. "But, I just got my first check, and I'm here to tell yuh, I just ain't quite got the money to front for a place yet," I said.

She stirred her manhattan seeming to find interest in the cherry at the bottom of the glass. "Mikey, move in with me," she said. "It'd be economical for both of us. We could split the rent, and you wouldn't have to come up with the first and last and utilities and all of that. Hell, if we have to wait for you to get enough for all of that we'll never have any time to practice."

I was stunned by her offer. "But, your place has only one bed-bedroom. I mean…"

"And your problem is?" she said. "Mikey, we've already slept together once." She giggled at that. "I didn't bite and we both survived the scandal." She was being funny now, or trying to be.

"Mary-I'm a man-I don't know-I mean…"

"You mean you might come on to me! Oh my god no, not that!" she was making fun of me now. "Well, pardner, you won't be the first cowboy to try that stuff. And, I guarantee you, you will not be gettin' into my pants unless I want you in 'em. So stop being so-junior highish-and move in with me. We're consenting adults for chrissakes!"

Her logic was irrefutable, so I stopped trying to refute her. "Okay. It sure as hell would be better for the both of us. When?" I said.

"Tonight. We'll make a trip down to your place with both cars and load 'em up.

"Uh-you don't have any furniture do you?" she said.

"No, none. The place came furnished," I said.

"Good, I don't have room for much of that. You can call and cancel your lease tomorrow."

The good news was that Mary's hall closet only had her suit case in it. So, I had a place to hang my meager wardrobe. My few other possessions took up almost no room; she seemed pleased with my poverty.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed still dressed but working on getting out of my shoes when she came in out of the shower.

She had a towel wrapped around her, and it barely covered her treasures. She'd evidently dried her hair in the bathroom. Well why not, she had a blow dryer.

"You staring at me, boy?" she said.

"Uh-no-I mean…"

"Well why the hell not. Am I not good looking enough for you?" She dropped the towel, and I dropped my jaw. Her pubs were bare as a baby's. her tits were babyesque. Her hips flared as a woman's should. And her ass, as I soon discovered as she slowly turned to give me a mini-show, was the kind of thing that three thousand years before had launched a thousand ships and laid waste Troy town.

I fell to my knees behind her and nuzzled her butt, forcing my nose and mouth between her cheeks. She giggled as I licked and suckled like a starving man. I in fact was starved. Starved for affection and sex and a woman. It had been eight years since I had had anything like this. She turned around and I worshipped her slit. I stood. I pulled her close and we kissed softly at first, then more passionately. I pushed her back onto the bed. She situated herself and spread her legs wide.

"Mikey, I need this, fuck me please. Do it now."

I'm not sure which was faster at that moment, light or my haste to follow her instructions. I dove into her groin and licked and sucked her clit until she shuddered. My five-inch tool pushed into her and she grimaced for the slightest of seconds. Then, she smiled as I began pushing and pulling in and out of her. I lay on top of her possessing her, needing her. God, did I need her!

I came and she came for a second time. I flipped her over and took her doggy style.

"Hmm," she said. "I love it this way. I love it when my man takes me."

The only thing I am sure of is that she didn't love it near as much as I did. It took me longer this second time and she stiffened in a prolonged orgasm, her third, before I finally unloaded again.

Half dead from my efforts, I rolled to my left and lay satisfied.

"Oh no, big boy, you are not even done. She swung a leg over me and put us in a classic sixty-nine position. I was staring at her pussy with my cum dripping copiously out of her. Suck it clean, big boy; it's time to do your duty.

She had my cock in a death grip, and I felt her mouth slide over the glans and engulf me as I leaned up to follow her orders. I'd never eaten my cum before, but Nina had many times. I figured if it hadn't killed her, and it wouldn't kill me. I went after it. Jesus, I was hot-still-she was hot. She bucked against my face as I licked her; her juices squirted out of her painting my face with woman smell.

She had me hard again, painfully hard, after some minutes. I had to strain to come again as she rode me like the cowgirl she was.

Finally we collapsed into each other's arms and slept.

Mary and I had become an item, after that night, and that fact had become known to one and all at the store; but not to Nina and Malcom. We were living together, but since we had both been burned once we were playing it slow and sure. No promises had been made, no demands put forth. We danced occasionally, we ate out, we ate each other, we took long walks in the park; and we held hands on the little balcony in the evening sometimes, when the stars were out, and we were feeling mellow.

After eight years of misery and self-pity; I was coming out of my shell and living again. The penultimate act had yet to be played out, but that was about to change.

Things were going pretty good for me. I had a woman, a first class real woman, I was seeing my kids almost weekly-that was the best-and the business was beginning to boom. Yes, things were good, almost. ******

I had just poured myself a cup of coffee, and had gotten myself comfortable and ready to go over the week's sales reports, when he came storming in.

I pinned him with an amused look. A man who is at his wits end is always in a bad place to make war.

"I hear you refer to me as asshole," he said by way of greeting. So this was it. We were about to have it out. Good. It was time, and I was in a much better place to do it than I had been in the beginning.

"I won't deny it," I said. "You will forgive me."

"Fuck you!" he said.

"You call me shrimp and little dick, or so I've heard. Not true?" I queried.

"You are a little dicked shrimp," he said.

"Maybe, but you are definitely an asshole. And, a cuckolding cheater as well. When you figure out which is worse, I mean what you are or what I am, you let me know," I said.

I was surprised to see him seem to slump. He was still standing, but he definitely sagged. The question was why? I waited.

"You and I-you and I-you and I… " he couldn't get it out. I was intrigued, but wary.

"You and I what?" I said.

"You and I need to talk. We need to get a few things straightened out," he said. I was pretty sure I knew what he was going to want to talk about, but I wanted him to say it.

"I'm married to Nina, not you," he said. Maybe I didn't know what he was going to talk about.

"Yes?" I said.

"She's married to me…"

"Yes, I know. And your point is?" I said.

"You have to stop hitting on her, and I mean now," he said.

I was surprised. "Huh? What are you talking about?" I said, now really not having a clue.

"You have to stop trying to influence her. She loves me not you. Are you getting this?" he said.

"Uh-no," I said. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Then came the gushing out of all of his concerns and worries…

"She had lunch with you, dinners with you, you made a deal to let that asshole Harlan back on the job, you offered to take her dancing. Am I getting close? Is it becoming clearer to you now?" he said.

It was, but I wasn't sure I was catching all of his innuendo. Taken together, I could see how he might infer something was going on that wasn't. I had to set him straight, or it would affect the business-badly.

"I offered to take you dancing too," I said, with us that is. That seemed to surprise him.

"Yes, we had dinner a couple of times, and lunch with the kids," I said.

"Ah hah!" he said.

"It was all about business. Working for my ex and the guy she cuckolded me with was a non-happening at first," I said. "I had to work through it. As for Harlan, you should never have fired him. One, you were guilty of what he said. And two, he knew his job like nobody else, except Sam of course."

He actually snickered, "That's the one place that I have to agree with you," said Malcom. "Before he outted us, I had no hope of ever getting Nina to marry me; she'd told me as much. It was only after you finding out and essentially forcing the divorce that she would agree to anything more than the occasional fuck session. Frankly, needle dick, she needed my equipment!" he said. "You just didn't have what it took."

I looked at his smug expression. He'd pissed me of at first, but then I thought back to my recent session with Mary; it gave me confidence.

"So you say," I said. "Obviously your equipment isn't getting the job done, or you wouldn't be here all worried and pushy."

He sagged again. "We had a fight. She loves me; I know that. But-there's a piece of her heart that you still own, and I don't like it," he said.

He saw the smugness on my face now. His smugness was gone-interesting.

"Really?" I said, in a patently smartass tone.

"Yeah, well don't get your hopes up, she doesn't love you like she once did. It's more like she feels empathy for your situation and how she screwed you around; and, okay yeah, me too. We both did you in, and we're both sorry.

"And now that we need you to make the business go, it looks self-serving as hell Nina meeting you for lunch and stuff, but that's only the half of it. I'm telling you straight," he said. I had mixed feelings about his words.

It was like he was trying to connect with me, but there was something else. Maybe, I was suspicious of his motivations. "So whaddya want, Malcom? Why are you here, really? You're pissed off. I can see it. So again, whaddya want?" I said.

"Like I said, we had a fight. I mean a real fight. She slapped me a dozen times before I could get it together enough to stop her."

He took of the sunglasses he was wearing.

"Jesus!" I said. "Did she do that!?" His right eye was blackened and it looked like there was a cut just under his eyebrow on the same side; it looked like it had bled like hell. "Is that a cut?"

"Yeah, her ring nicked me, when she backhanded me.

"I walked out after the last blow. I didn't trust myself, and I sure as hell couldn't trust her not to blow up again. Anyway, you asked, that's why I'm here," he said.

"I don't get it. Whaddya want from me? I don't have any influence with Nina," I said. "And I'm not sure I give a fuck that she tore your ass up anyway."

"Yeah, well maybe. But, I love her, same as you did once. She needs me, and I need her…"

"Wait," I said. "What was the fight about?" It had just occurred to me that I might be involved at least indirectly. If not, then why was he here?

"Our little go 'round over Harlan the other day," he said.

"Huh?"

"I told her about it. Told her I wanted either Harlan or you gone. She seemed to think for a moment. Then, she started to cry. Then, she stood up from the dining room table where she had been sitting and began to lay into me. She didn't scream or yell or say anything. She just unloaded."

"And, then you ran out?"

"Like I said, I had to get out of there. It was an actually dangerous situation. I went to the Crossroads. Had a few drinks. Talked to the barkeep. Believe it or not he knows you," said Malcom.

"Henry?"

"Yeah, that's his name," he said.

"Yeah, I know him. We used to bowl together when I was much younger. I stop in there every once in a while even now," I said.

"Yeah, well, he suggested that I get over my-well, he thought I should talk to you. I couldn't think of anything else to do about it all. So here I am," he said.

"I see," I said. I still didn't really know what he wanted. Maybe for me to intercede with Nina for him. Turned out that was not the case.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, shrimp, this is it. To answer your question as to why I'm here. "I wanna end my problem with you. I don't expect us to ever be friends. But, you're the elephant in the room, and I want you the hell out of it. So, I am here to apologize for taking your wife away from you. For being on your case about Harlan. And for anything else I've done real or imagined that caused you problems or harm."

Now, I was stunned. Without thinking, I stood, extended my hand-kinda slowly-and said okay. He looked a little surprised. I had to ask. "Okay, you got it, my forgiveness. I can't think of a reason to hold a grudge any longer either. It sure as hell ain't makin' my life any easier. So, okay, Like I said. I don't know how it's going to help your case with Nina, but okay."

"It'll help. I am going back. I'm going to tell her that we've buried the hatchet and that we're cool with each other, and that I apologized to you."

"Yeah? Well, what would you have done if I had told you to go to hell?" I said, really wondering. "And, just so you'll, I almost did."

"I would go back and tell her I tried, but that you weren't having any. She would have checked with you and you would have told her the truth. Or, even if you'd lied, she would have been able to tell; you know her as well as I do. You never would have been able to fool her," he said.

I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that. And you don't have to worry about me trying to get back with Nina, either. She and I are over. In fact, I have a new squeeze that at some point we might want to make permanent." He looked surprised.

We talked for a few more minutes and he left for the field of domestic battle. I actually wished him well. ******

Mary was sitting in the back booth at Denny's when I arrived. It was the day after my little sit down with Malcom.

"Hi, honey girl," I said sliding in next to her. We'd plan to have lunch because we'd be in crunch time that night getting ready for another contest at the Moonlight Ballroom. We had just finished arguing about her dress, when a shadow fell over the table emanating from behind me.

"Hello Mikey, Mary," said Nina. Nina, with Malcom a step behind her, asked if they could have a few words with me.

"I'll go sit at the bar while you talk," said Mary.

"No,no, Mary," I said. "You stay. I'm sure Nina and Mal won't mind. Will you?" I asked Nina, looking straight at her.

"No, that's fine," she said. Mal nodded his agreement. Mary settled back down in her seat beside me.

The booth was semicircular. Mary and I slid to my right allowing the new couple the room to sit across from us.

"I hope we're not interrupting anything," said Nina. "I-we didn't know you'd have company."

"No problem," I said. "Mary and I had some things to discuss. Not job related," I added.

"Oh," said Nina, realizing for certain that Mary and I were not merely fellow employees. Malcom had clearly mentioned what I'd said about a new squeeze. "Okay, then I'll get right to the point of our being here." She indicated Malcom beside her.

I nodded and gestured for her to go on.

"Mikey, Malcom told me about you talking with each other yesterday. Is what he told me true?" she said.

"I don't know what he told you, obviously," I said, "but we did clear the air, I guess you could say." I don't know why I said it, but I added, "I haven't even told Mary about it yet."

Nina looked askance at me. "Okay," she said, slowly, in a questioning tone.

I decided right then was a good time to let Nina in on a few things. "We're an item," I said. "We are living together."

The look on Nina's face, not to mention Malcom's, was priceless. "We've been together for some little time now," I said. "We're getting married."

Of course I hadn't asked Mary yet, and the look she gave me would have turned some men-but not me-to stone. Nina sensed that my remarks were a surprise. But, she decided to let it lay for the moment and plunge on.

"Congratulations," she offered. Mary just smiled at her and nodded sweetly.

"Well, I guess that what I say will be a good thing for both of you then," said Nina. Malcom spoke up.

"Mikey, we, Nina and I, want to do right by you. You working for us and us payin' you thirty grand annual is unacceptable," he said.

I looked at him wondering what he was talking about.

"We've decided, your ex-wife and I," he looked at Nina as if to ask permission to go on, "that we want to offer you a partnership. Fifty-fifty. You'd be operations, just like now; we'd be accounting and the initial backers, also just like now. "Would that be acceptable to you-the both of you," he added, looking straight at Mary. I looked at Mary forcing her to finally speak up.

"Yes, that would be fine, if it's okay with Mikey," she said.

Nina looked at Mary with narrowed eyes. She knew something was going on between us, but couldn't figure it out. "Well then," said Nina, "I guess we'll go. Our lawyer will be in contact with you two in a day or two to sign the papers."

"Nina, thanks," I said. "You didn't have to do it. I have no legal right to the store anymore, but I accept your generous offer."

"You deserve it, Mikey. The store is already turning around. And besides, I owe you." She held up her hand to silence my protest. "No, I need to give you back some of what you should never have lost. I want us to be friends," she said.

Nina looked over at Mary, "I hope you'll invite us to the wedding."

"Of course," said Mary. I nodded agreement.

"Of course," I said.

"Okay then," said Nina, "I guess we'll be going." My ex-wife and the man who had cuckolded me, and about whom I had had bad thoughts over these past many years, rose to go. We exchanged goodbyes, and they turned to walk away. They stopped at the door and looked back as Mary let out a very indecorous squeal of delight. I took her in my arms and we kissed. I didn't see it, but Nina smiled a wan smile.

The wedding was three months later. Our honeymoon was scheduled a month after that. We had decided to have it coincide with the Latin dance championships in Rio de Janeiro. We didn't come close to medaling, but we did have a ton of fun; plus, there was always next year. Oh, and the tickets to Rio were a wedding gift from our good friends the Bradys.

-----------------------------

   Series:Oliver and Emilie Wright
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She really loves her friend's husband's cock. Trouble is her husband hates the guy.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/72526/oliver-and-emilie-wright
Published:2012-11-02
"For godssakes stop the silly crying, Oliver, and be a man. So Billy screwed me. So what? It isn't like it means a damn thing," said Emilie. "It made me feel good and didn't hurt you or us one little bit."

"I'm not crying. I've just got something in my eye. But, as for the rest of it, it means plenty to me, and in case you actually give a damn it did hurt me. And also in case you actually give a damn there is the indisputable fact that this marriage is over," I said.

"Oh, pooh," she said. "Talk about overreacting. Go out and get yourself a revenge fuck if you're so bothered by it," she said.

Who was this woman? I sure as hell didn't know. But, she was going to be history in short order. If and when, that is, I could swing the cost of a divorce lawyer. Oh, yeah, history for damn sure! But, I knew two other things, also for sure: one, I couldn't afford a lawyer at the moment; and two, there was no way any other woman was going to let me into her pants. There had been a time, but not now, not at my age fifty. My days of scoring were long past, and my wife knew it. She on the other hand was clearly by no means done as the sage might have averred.

All of the above said. I would not be sticking around so she could humiliate me anymore than she already had. No sirree, I was getting the hell outta Dodge. She might not believe it, but it was going to happen and happen immediately. I headed down the hall to the bedroom we'd shared for most of the past twenty some years we'd been married. I needed a couple of suitcases, and a box or two to pack up the stuff I'd need for work and to set up housekeeping in whatever new digs I could-well-dig up. She smirked as she watched me march off.

I was busy packing when she came into the room. "Oliver, you are wasting your time. You know it and I know it. You'll be back with your tail between your legs begging forgiveness, and you'll just have to be putting it all away again," she said. My turn to smirk.

"Think so," I said. "You're wrong!" She'd just put the final nail in the coffin of our marriage. Her look did change a little with my tone. She decided to soften her original stance.

"Look, I'm sorry. Okay? But, it was nothing but a little funnin' I swear it. It won't happen again. I promise," she said.

"What won't happen again, Emilie? You fucking other men or just not doing it in our bed!" I said. I went back to my packing.

"Jesus, you're making a federal case out of nothing whatsoever. You need to stop and we need to talk," I said.

"You still haven't answered me," I said. I continued to pack.

"Answered what?" she said. I stopped packing for a moment and looked her straight in the eyes.

"What is it you're not going to do anymore," I said. She looked away. Her look was pure frustration-no-disgust.

"Neither in our bed nor at all," she said. "How's that?" My eyes were hot from the acid of my tears, the tears I'd denied having but shortly before. She shook her head sympathetically.

I sat down heavily on the bed, the half packed bag I'd been loading up beside me. "How do I know you'd keep your word?" I said, and that not unreasonably. She came toward me, but stopped a few feet away.

"I don't know. I guess you'll just have to take a chance. But, I will not break my word. No more hurting you by screwing other men. I really do promise. And, I was serious about you going out and getting yourself a little strange on the side. A little revenge so to speak, like I said," she said.

I'd heard her, and I'd also heard something else. Her tone when she said she'd not be hurting me anymore by screwing other men. It, her tone, bothered me. It was like she was almost saying that she wouldn't hurt me because I would never know she was screwing other men. That she was just planning on being ultra-careful in the future. She'd not said that obviously, but she'd sure as hell "toned" it. Tone of voice is everything; boy did I know that for a fact. How did I know? Well, maybe it's time for me to introduce us.

******

My name is Oliver Wright, age fifty, short at five-six, spare at one-thirty-five, slightly balding, and perfectly average in the face. I'm a voice coach for wanna be actors. I know pretty much all there is to know about tone of voice; hence, my earlier remarks. The job-I work at Merlin Studios-pays well, and I meet lots of interesting people, that including any number of celebs.

Emilie Wright, nee Allen, is my wife of many years. Emilie is forty-six; also five-six, maybe one-fifteen, she won't say. Emilie has long flowing dark hair, a dazzling face, shoulda been a movie star herself; and a personality that's purely magnetic. Oh, and a figure that is but a trice short of amazing. Yeah, yeah, I know totally out of my league. Emilie is a hair dresser, a fairly talented one as it happens. She works at Merlin's too. In fact it was at a Merlin's New Year's Eve party those many years ago that we met. She gave me a tumble-in the hay-appreciated my enthusiasm if not exactly my more or less than average skills and tool; decided I'd do, and married me.

Oh, I knew it likely had more to do with my six figure income-she makes a third of what I do- than either my wonderful good looks or my aforementioned bedroom skills; but what the hey, I wanted her body. Oh yeah, I wanted it real bad. Pussywhipped? Me? Damn straight. She knew it, and she used it. She's gotten everything she's wanted from me over the years, but not this. Not my willingness to be her cuckold. Not in this life nor any other: no way in hell I was going for that.

******

I looked her askance. Trust her now? That was the question. A moment before I had one foot out the door. But, did I really want to dump her. The short answer was no. This despite the fact that she had thoroughly humiliated me, and that with a man we both knew well and considered a friend. I decided to go for it.

"Call Billy's wife now. You're going to tell her all of it over the phone," I said. She actually smiled.

"She already knows. Mavis and Billy have an open marriage," said my wife. My lower jaw dropped a yard and bounced off the floor.

"Mavis Walcott's into other men!" I said.

"Yes," she said.

I decided to test the waters. "Call her anyway. Tell her to come over. I'm going to screw her. You told me to go out and get some strange, so okay, I'm ready. After all you did her husband; I'm going to do her," I said. Now it was time for my wife's jaw to bounce off of the floor. And, hell, Mavis was a dazzler.

"I can't do that," she said.

"If you and her Billy can cuckold me, I can cuckold him. That's fair," I said.

"What if she says no?" she said.

"Then she says no, and you get one of your other friends in here to do me," I said. But, I really do want her. And put it on speaker phone; I want to hear it all," I said.

"Ollie, let's talk this through a little more, okay?" said Emilie.

"No, call her. Call her now," I said. She shook her head.

"Okay, then, I'll do it," I said. I headed for the hall and the little phone stand that was there with our personal phone book beside it. I looked up the Walcott's. I dialed as she watched me.

"Hi Mavis, this is Ollie, Ollie Wright… yes-yes you too… uh huh… Look Mavis my wife just got done doing your hubby… right, right… really… so you really do have an open marriage?… Really… Well okay, that's cool, but now I have a request… yes a request… I need you to come over here so I can do you… Huh!… but…"

"She laughed at me, hung up on me. Guess you were wrong about me having something to offer another woman. Hell if I'm not enough for my own wife, what could I expect," I said with a sneer. "No problem though, now I go after the two of them-and you." I continued my packing.

"Ollie, wait. You and I need to talk things out. This is not good," said Emilie.

"No it's not good, not at all," I said. Five minutes later I was out the door.

******

I hadn't known a bit ago where I was going to go, or really, what I was going to do, but now I did. I knew just where to find what I was looking for, at least in terms of a place to stay. It was but four blocks from my shop at the studio; it was called the Coronado: my new place was a fourth floor three bedroom that was more than tastefully furnished. It was a bit pricey, but what the hey, I did make the big bucks.

I'd picked up a bottle Old Overholt at the liquor outlet near our house on my way to the apartment building. I liked rye better than bourbon when I could get it; it was hotter than bourbon and maybe a tad less sweet. At any rate it, Old-O, was my friend. I sipped it now as I looked out at the city lights spread out before me. I wondered what she was doing, who she was calling. It was going to be a busy next few days; I was sure of that. Tomorrow? Tomorrow I would have to be doing some thinking, planning. Oh yeah. But tonight, tonight I would be kicking back and brooding, maybe feeling a little bit sorry for myself. And-getting blasted. Hell, I was entitled.

******

"Yeah, yeah, I know. And, you were right, but we were in a hurry. Billy had an appointment or something. He told me… " started Emilie.

"Yes, he had an appointment all right-with Jessica hardass McCoy," said Mavis.

"You're kidding me!" said Emilie.

"Nope. Anyway, whaddya gonna do about Oliver?"

"I don't know. I don't even know where he is, and his cell is turned off," said Emilie. "But to answer your question more directly, find somebody he can get revenge with. You could have been a bit more helpful there, Mavis! I mean would it have killed you?"

"Em', we've talked about this; he's not my type: too short, too boring. Hell, he's clearly not enough for you. What'd you expect letting him pin me like that! That said, I do hope I didn't queer things for you. I didn't mean to hurt the guy's little feelings. He's okay so long as a body doesn't have to sleep with him." Emily gave her a look that was less than appreciative of her sentiments.

"But, the other thing, I can maybe can help you find him. Jimmy Corson said he thought he saw him pulling into the Coronado," said Mavis.

"Really. I should go there and try and talk some sense into him," said Emilie. "He's not going to be able to find someone to replace me' he's too old and to short and too boring, as you accurately point out, to really be allowed out without supervision. Plus, he's vulnerable right now. Some little chickee is certain to come along and dig for his gold as soon as he flashes that black Amex of his. But, until she does, he's gonna be one lonesome critter. And, he's gonna be stayin' that way if he doesn't cool down and learn to fly right."

"Dig for the gold? You mean like you did?" said Mavis.

"So what. He got value for his money. It's not like I deny him his due when it comes to sex. Hell, he gets more than any of the others. I treat him right. But…

"I really should not have had Billy over to the house. That was a major error in judgment. Now, I have to figure a way to make it up to Ollie, make him forget his hurt and embarrassment. And, damned if I have any ideas," said Emilie.

"Yes, I see what you mean," said Mavis. "That's gonna be a toughie. Better be thinkin' about lookin' your best when you go to see him, I mean your very best. You gotta see to it that his little head does his thinking for him." Emilie snickered.

"Yes, that would be the ticket if I can, I mean if I even get the chance," she said.

"You can, and you will. Men, all men, are the same. They need us a helluva lot more than we need them, especially men like your Ollie," said Mavis. "I don't know if I ever told you. When I first met Billy he was bragging to a group of us, but mainly to me, about how his cock was something no woman had and all women wanted. I told him that, while what he said was so, it was also true that a pussy like mine could get a 100 cocks like his and then some. That shut him up right quick.

"Funny, very funny," said Emily. "But, the Coronado, you say?"

"Yes. Corson seemed pretty sure about that," said Mavis.

******

My morning hangover was stupendous. I'd dumped a dozen ice cubes in a towel and was conscientiously holding it to my right temple which seemed to be the primary seat of my pain. It was then that the German army attacked! Well, it sounded like an attack by the German army. But, in reality it was the damnable doorbell. I considered not answering it. But, creature of habit, I did.

"You!" I said. "Fuck!"

"Yes, if you want. And I can't deny it. It is me," she said. "Got any coffee."

"What I got is a hangover. And, I ain't sharin'" I said.

"Then, stand aside. I'll doctor you and make the coffee too. You can toss my ass out afterwards. How's that," said Emilie. I turned and walked back inside without answering her. She followed me in and closed the door behind her.

I fell into a chair at the dinette. I was still holding the ice pack to my head. I could hear her fussing around in the kitchen.

She emerged five minutes later with a couple cups of coffee and some toast. "Eat," she said.

"I can't, I'll throw up," I said.

"Maybe, but that wouldn't necessarily be bad," she said. I ate the damn toast. "Now, drink the coffee." I started to sip it.

"Whaddya want, Emilie? There ain't nuthin' for you here. You're getting' your jollies elsewhere."

"No I'm not. I was, but no more," she said. "It's time you forgave this old slut and let me come home. Or more accurately, you come home to me, to our house."

"The coffee and the couple of pieces of toast were reviving me. That fact was both good and bad. Good, because the German army was in retreat. Bad, because I was remembering just how bad the hurt was that she'd laid on me.

I leaned back in my chair. She was the one holding the ice pack against my temple now. I took it back from her and laid it on the place mat in front of me.

I took a deep breath. Jesus she was pretty. She must've spent an hour doing herself up to snooker me.

"You don't want me, Em'. I doubt if you ever did. I could wish that you did because I do want you, big time," I said.

"I do want you big boy. And, I want you way more than you can ever imagine. I thought that I needed something more, but these last days? Well, I discovered that it was all a chimera. I don't need, and likely never really did need, anyone but you. So, if you'll just be kind enough to give me another chance; well, I will more than make up for my crimes against our marriage. Whaddya say?" she said.

"I don't know. I want to believe you. But-another hit to my heart like a few nights ago; well, I don't think I could handle that. And, the truth is I don't trust you anymore, and that's a fact," I said.

"I know it's only words, Ollie, but I love you, and you can trust me. I can't prove it except by being trustworthy from now on. I know it'll take some time. But, I want to start proving it to you right now, right here," she said, "at least the loving part. Whaddya say?" I was wavering.

And, while I wavered, she came and stood in front of me kinda swaying back and forth. Then she started to strip. She went real slow, and the tease was working. My little head took over and controlled me.

Naked, she lay down on the floor. Her legs were straight out in front of her and together. Her mound was bald and the mere sight of her slit was capable of enslaving any man, especially a wimp like me. Her arms lay by her sides immobile. She looked the picture of vulnerability. But it wasn't her that was vulnerable; I knew it. The really vulnerable one was me: short and less than useless in bed me. I stood and stripped. I had no hope of defending myself against an onslaught like this. I lay down beside her on the carpeted floor.

I didn't touch her with my hands at first. Instead, I leaned over her and kissed her nipples; I could feel them harden. Well, at least I could get that much of a reaction from her. I began suckling on them. I allowed my hands to grope the fleshy parts of her breasts. God she was a turn on for me. She might not love me; she might not appreciate my love making skills, but I sure as hell got off on what she had to offer.

I began to kiss my way down her body. I was close enough now, to her pussy, to smell her femaleness. She hadn't cleaned herself; that was clear. She'd made herself up to entrap me, no doubt about it, but she hadn't washed her cunt, and I loved it. The smell of my woman had always done me in; she knew that about me. I had no hope!

I gently helped her spread her thighs. I spent some time licking and sucking her. I paid special attention to her pee hole. I loved the acrid taste of it.

Looming above her, I pushed my way into her. All very thick almost five inches of my manhood began pile driving into her. I heard her suck in her breath as I was less than gentlemanly about the way I was treating her. She bucked and drove back at me as I began to feel myself about to cum; I had the feeling she was trying to get even with me. I exploded inside of her. Had to have been the most cum I'd dumped in her in years. I fell off to the side.

She was breathing hard; I was breathing hard. I was satisfied. Her? Doubtful. Oh, I knew what she was going to say, but I was so warned as to doubt the truth of it.

"Jesus, honey that was good. Best in a long time. Try and remember the formula, okay?" she said. Like I said, I knew what she was going to be saying. I weren't no idiot, although I'm sure there were those out there in readersville who would fain argue the point.

"It was good for you then," I said. "You came. Right?" I said. I was pushing her buttons.

"Oh yeah," she said. "Big time!" Now, she was pushing my buttons.

The experience and her enthusiasm were enough-barely-to convince me to try one more time. Try yes, but I had a very bad feeling about doing so regardless; that's what a lack of trust will do to a person. There is always that feeling in the pit of the stomach that one could wish wasn't there; it made every day a sad day or seemed to.

******

Once back in the house, things only tangentially related to my problem of trust with Emilie began to cause some little bit of tension; well, and not so little actually.

For one, since her basic insult to me, Emilie's friend Mavis was going to forever be a pariah. I made the case to Emilie that the Walcotts were no longer welcome at our place: she'd insulted me, and he'd cuckolded me. The combination made any kind of fence mending with them an insuperable problem. Emilie countered that they had done nothing that was not forgivable. She owned to the fact that everything was at least as much her fault, Emilie's, as it was either of the Walcotts. Yeah, I said, but I ain't married to them; have no investment in them, and really couldn't even stand to be around them anymore.

Emilie acquiesced, but grudgingly. I figured she'd still talk to the woman while avoiding the man, but if she did, talk to Mavis, it would never be in or around our house; that was ironclad. And, yeah, avoiding the man was not negotiable.

We fell into a groove of screwing almost every night. I think she was trying to prove two things. One, that she did want me sexually. And two-and this was only a suspicion-that I wouldn't be able to keep up with her, and that maybe her playing on the side actually made sense on some level. Well, it was just a suspicion I had.

It was three months later, and after a particularly raucous night of rolling in the sheets, that things started becoming a little dicey.

"I came this time, harder than you, I think," she said. I smiled.

"Yeah, like that's the truth," I said. She didn't take offense at my obvious disbelief because I was laughing. I remembered a scene form an old movie: the Virginian. Two gunfighters were in a saloon. One says something mildly insulting to the other, to the Virginian. He retorts: "When you say that, stranger, smile." It was the same kind of thing.

"No really. I think our little problem a few months ago has actually done us a little bit of good," she said.

"Hmm, maybe, but I don't want any more help with our problems from the Walcotts, ever!" I said. Yeah, I knew what was coming; there'd been hints.

"Honey, could I ask you for a big favor, but really not that big?" she said. I knew for a fact she could feel my back stiffen.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" I said. I heard her sigh.

"Honey, I ran into Mavis at the market today." My look must've cued her.

"No, we didn't socialize. She was buying carrots and I was buying cabbage, that's all. We did say hello to each other. She asked how you were doing. I asked how they were doing. Well, and then we went our separate ways," she said.

I knew what she was about. Like I said, I twern't no idiot. "No," I said.

"No? No what?' she said.

"No, there will be no thaw in our relations with those two. Not now not ever," I said. "Find another store to buy our groceries from."

"What if…"

"Fuck it, Emilie. The answer is no. Now, do you understand me here?" I said.

"Please, can I at least get a word in edgewise," she said.

"Say it and say it fast. You're beginning to bore me," I said.

"What if she did you?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"What if she slept with you? You know like you wanted that one time," she said.

"You said a lot more to each other than hello didn't you, Emilie," I said.

"Okay, yes. I-I-well, I wanted to break the ice. She was my best friend forever, and because I was stupid; well…"

"And, what if I said yes? What would be the next step? You sleeping with big dick Billy?" I said.

"No, no, I mean no!" she said.

"Uh huh, really. Okay, call her up now. Tell her to get over here-now. I think I still have enough juice left for another go or two. Call her now," I said. "I'd make the call, but one humiliation asking her for a little relief is a lifetime's worth."

"Now?" she said. "I mean you mean now!"

"None other, Emilie," I said. "A big affirmative, a loud you better believe it, got the imprimatur of the Pope on it. Put another way, yes, I mean now."

"Okay, Ollie. I'll call her. And, oh, just to be clear. She didn't mean to insult or humiliate you that last time. Frankly, she thought you were half kidding. Kind of a turn off for her, if you know what I mean. The truth is she asked me to ask you this time around. She said she'd really like to sample you. That's how she put it." I knew she was lying, but I had a plan.

"Okay, fine. But get to it. I ain't talkin' Chinese," I said, "now, actually means now, not when you get done yakking. Oh, and remember, for Billy it is gonna remain forever never. Got it?"

"No, no, I get it. Okay, I'll make the call," she said. Oh, I knew she was setting the wheels in motion for what she thought could be a phased in assault on my resolve, but she had no idea the degree of hate I held for mister Billy Walcott. The only way I'd ever allow that asshole around me or in our house was to fuck him in the ass myself-I smiled at my mind's picture. Yeah Billy how do you like getting' in the ass from your cuckold; kinda fun huh? For me at any rate asshole. Yeah, well I could dream,

She headed into the den to make the call. I didn't follow her in, but I did lurk just outta sight of her in the kitchen. I didn't know what I might hear, but whatever it was, it was sure to be interesting.

"Hi Mavis… Yeah, I asked him… He's real suspicious, but he did go for it… Yeah, yeah, yeah… No, he's good to go… Well, so what; it won't kill you… Oh yeah! Well if you wanna know, he ain't half bad in the sack… No, Billy is better, but my Ollie's okay… Yeah, yeah… Maybe someday… but for now he's still persona non grata… baby steps, girl, baby steps… I hurt him pretty bad, and so did you when you turned him down… Yeah, well he won't believe that, nor would anyone else… Okay, anyway, get your ass over here now and fuck him… yeah, yeah, I mean now. Otherwise it's a no go… Okay good… you too. Hurry up," she said, and hung up.

******

I have to admit it; it was nervous time, and that for the both of us, me and Emilie. It was maybe half an hour later, and close to 11:00PM when we heard the knock on the door. She answered it. I was standing next to the dinette table when she came in. Emilie for her part wasn't quite shaking in her boots, but she was clearly concerned. I looked from one to the other of the two women across from me standing side by side.

I spread my hands in a what's next gesture. Mavis took up the slack.

"Ollie, before we get down to business, I'd like to apologize for the last time; I mean the way I talked to you. I wasn't very nice. Please forgive me, okay?" she said. I nodded, but it was a noncommittal nod.

"Would everybody like a drink or something?" said Emilie. She looked to be wanting to do something for us, or, more accurately me. She wanted me calm. This was her idea, sort of. She had a vested interested, or so I presumed, in me getting what I wanted-whatever that was-out of this strange as hell situation.

"Yes, that would be nice," I said.

"Ditto, that for me," said Mavis. Emilie headed for the den.

"So, does Billy know what's going on here tonight?" I said. I was actually more than a little interested in what she was going to say in that regard.

"No, he was out when I got the call from Em', I think he's out grousing around for some strange," she said. "But, it doesn't matter. He'll figure I'm doin' the same thing and just go to bed if he gets home before I do." I nodded. Just then, Emilie reappeared with the drinks.

The two women took their seats. Emilie on the couch and Mavis in the easy chair across from her. I smiled.

"I think maybe we've got things a little backwards here," I said. I was still standing. They looked askance at me.

"Shouldn't Mavis be sitting on the couch so I could sit next to her?" I said. Both of the women flushed.

"Oh-oh!" said Emilie. "Yes, yes, of course. I wasn't thinking. Just habit, I guess." They switched places. I moved to the couch and sat right next to my wife's best friend. I reached for my drink which Emilie had placed on the coffee table.

"To a thrilling night of sex," I said, raising my glass. I almost laughed out loud. Mavis had the look of one who was throwing herself under the bus for the team. It was clear to me that she didn't really want to be with me, didn't want me to screw her for sure. For my part, I hadn't quite decided if I was actually going go through with it or not. Mavis forced a smile onto her face.

"To good sex," she said, echoing me. We all raised our glasses and sipped. Mavis leaned in against me, reluctantly, I thought, but definitely. I put my arm around her. Her hand went to my lap. She found my bulge and now she smiled for real. "Hot for me, big guy?" she said.

"Sure," I said. I kissed her. Em's face was a mask of passivity.

"Well, I'll let you kids alone for the duration. I'll be sleeping in the guest room tonight. She passed by me, placed her hand briefly on my shoulder and headed off down the first floor's hall.

We, Mavis and I, made out for a little while, and then I stood. I offered her my hand. She winced, the moment of truth, I guess. She seemed a condemned prisoner being marched off to the gallows. I decided to call her on it.

"You don't want to be here, with me, do you?" I said. "Almost anybody else but me. Right?"

"Oh no! Ollie. That's not it at all. It's just-well-she's my best friend…"

"But it was all right with the two of you if she fucked your husband," I said. She looked away. Suddenly, she was ugly to me. I not only didn't want her. I wanted to be away from her-far away from her.

"Just leave, Mavis. I've lost interest. Just leave," I said.

"Ollie, please. I'm just-well-a little uncomfortable. I really do want to sample you. Just give me a chance. Please. Okay?"

I paused, made a decision and nodded. I took her hand leading her up the staircase. I would be screwing her on the same bed her husband screwed my wife on. It was poetic as hell.

I sat on my wife's vanity stool while she stripped. C-cups, narrow hips and waist, bubble butt: she was a winner if female body parts had anything to do with the equation. But, the acid test was still to come. Was she going to be into it, or was it just a case of her tolerating me so I would lighten up on her communing with my wife.

Naked, she lay on the bed and eyed me. I stood and began to do my own strip tease. Down to my skivvies, I hesitated. I pushed them floorward, and straightened up. So far not a word had passed between us since we'd come up the stairs.

I stood straight and still as she finished her appraisal of me. She gave me a very slight nod. "You'll do," she said, chancing my reaction to her analysis. I snickered.

"It is what it is," I said. I was feeling confident for once, and, I was feeling really really horny. She giggled.

I lay down beside her and kissed her, gently, almost lovingly. She gave me a quizzical look, but said nothing. I let my hand roam her body, eventually finding her slit and playing with her clit. She purred; I don't think it was fake.

I pushed my finger into her slit and pulled it out. I licked it. She smiled. I rolled on top of her. My arms consciously and relentlessly pinned her arms to her side. I began probing with my dick, now steel hard. I was in no hurry. I wanted the first time to last. Finally, I slipped in. She was wet enough to make the slide inside of her an easy one. She grimaced slightly as I impaled her. I began screwing her. It might be the only time I ever did her; I wanted it to be if not memorable, at least not too bad.

Having had Emilie twice earlier in the evening, it took a while for me to cum; she didn't, cum that is, but she mooed. I took that as a sign that she at least more or less enjoyed it. I rolled off of her.

We lay breathing heavily side by side. "Was it as bad as my wife thinks it was sure to be," I said. I figured she'd tell me I was wonderful. I was wrong.

"One, your wife has never said you were all that bad, not as good as my Billy; but, well, not that bad. Still, you've got a lot to learn if you care to know," she said.

I rolled onto my side and studied her. She wasn't joking and she wasn't putting me down. I was sure of those. She was being honest?

"Really?" I said.

"What, you expected me to stroke your ego? I'll do you again, in the future. You show promise. Just not a heckuva lot of imagination," she said.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, really," she said. "And, for my money your wife should appreciate you more. Your tool is a little on the short side, but it can get the job done if you learn a few things. Give me a call later in the week. We'll talk. Okay?"

"Yeah, maybe," I said.

We talked for a few more minutes, and then cuddled up and napped for about an hour. It was a little after 1:00AM when she got up to go to the bathroom. When she came back she dressed as I watched her. Done, she came to me, kissed me on the forehead, and left.

******

It was quiet the next morning. I was up first. She must have slept okay in the guest room because she got up an hour later than usual. I heard her footsteps on the floor of the dinette before I saw her. I turned. She was dressed, and she was gorgeous. I was in my jeans and a t-shirt.

The mug was half way to my mouth when I saw her; I paused with it hanging there. "You look good. Going somewhere?" I said.

"Yes, to breakfast, with you," she said.

"I was just going to have coffee and little toast," I said setting my mug down.

"Your plans have changed. You're taking me to breakfast," she said.

"Well, I guess a man does have to do what he can to please his woman." I got up and headed for the bedroom. I needed my wallet and my keys. I got 'em, grabbed my hat, and was back downstairs and ready in less than a full minute.

"Where to?" I said, as we exited the back door.

"IHOP would be fine, the one on Chester. We can eat and maybe talk," she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said.

******

Hotcakes consumed, second cup of Java in front of us: we settled back in our seats to talk.

"So how was it, dare I ask?" she said.

"Good, I guess. She seemed to appreciate me more than you. But, maybe she was faking it. I mean how am I to know for sure?" I said.

"Boy, I did screw up your head didn't I," said Emilie. I didn't respond to that; I mean, what would I have said.

She sighed, "Can I ask, you know, are we okay now?"

"No." I said.

"But…"

"What? You think one roll in the hay with one of your confederates is going to make us even? You imagine that all of the hurt you laid on me, the arrogance of it, is going to just magically disappear?

"If we do manage to straighten things out, Emilie, it'll have to be you figuring out a way to get me to trust you again. And, as the old country boy might be likely to say: They'll probably be driving Buicks to the moon by then."

"Jesus. Ollie, can't we just forget the past and try and start over? I want to start over. I haven't been real smart in the way I've handled things up to now, but I can do better," she said, "a lot letter." Her words were wrong.

"Whaddya mean handle things better, exactly. Sounds like you mean to keep on doin' what you've always done, but maybe hide it better than before. Is that what you mean to say, Emilie? How about a little honesty here, okay?" I said. She grimaced. She sighed.

"You want honesty. Right, honesty. But do you really? Okay, I'm going to give you honesty. And, I'm going to give you point of view too. Coming here this morning, I was not deluding myself that everything was going to be hunkydory from now on; I knew it wasn't. But, I did think that maybe the groundwork might be laid for future progress if that's the way to say it. But, it looks as though this little breakfast meeting might be for all of the marbles, or, maybe most of them anyway," she said.

"I think you may be right in thinking that," I said. "It just might be for all of the marbles.

"So, okay, lay it on me. The honesty part I mean," I said.

"And, the point of view. Okay?" she said. I nodded.

"Honestly Ollie, to be honest I am dying for a good screwing and I mean right now. You can take it to the bank that what I'm saying is the god's truth. Problem is, even if I could get you interested enough to do me with the enthusiasm that I require, you couldn't. I mean do me satisfactorily. And, before you get up and storm out of here, it's not because it's beyond you. You could do it, or rather learn to. But, you have never really been into listening to me on that score. And, it's not something that is easy for a woman to talk to a man about, I mean to push him to do it right," she said.

"And, so where does that leave me? Leave us?" I said. "Seems like your saying that there is no hope for us," I said.

"No, I'm not saying that. What I am saying is that, I love you so much, and need you so much, that I am willing to settle for less than I would like. How's that for being honest?' she said.

"I can't fault your honesty, but I do fault your logic. I do not recall a single instance of you trying to teach me the ins and outs of pleasing you," I said. "One would have thought that at least you would have made some small effort in that regard. But, there is more isn't there. It isn't just me not knowing things is it?" She looked away.

"You promised to be honest, so let's have it," I said.

"It's cock size. I'm not exactly a size queen, but large cocks are a major part of it. It's the one thing that I couldn't overcome for us even if you did learn to do me good," she said. I could feel my mood darken.

"So, I ask again, is this the end of us?" I said. "Because I will not stand for you fucking around on me," I said. "Not in any imaginable world. And I am really and truly not into pity sex."

"Get real. Why do you think I did what I did calling up Mavis for you? Why do you think I am trying so hard to keep you, to get you to trust me, to forgive me for all of the mistakes I've made by sneaking around on you? I did it because I love you and only you. In most ways you do it for me, and you would for any woman. You don't have a big dick. Your bedroom skills are pure junior high; but those realities, as big a deal as they collectively are, should not be the end of the world for us. And, yes, I'll say it: for me-selfish though I'm sure I sound," she said.

"Sure it's not just my income you love and not me?" I said. "Let me put that another way-and here is where honesty will be at a premium-what if I didn't have the kind of income that I do. How would you feel about me then? Convince me that you'd love me, and only me, even then, and all will be well." She gave me a look that was utterly unreadable.

"Your income? I suppose one could make the case that without it you wouldn't be as-what-attractive as you are. I do like being able to spend and go and do the things I like. Who wouldn't? But, then none of that really answers your questions does it."

"Nope."

"Well, then, honestly, yes it would change things, change how I look at you in some ways. But, that said, if you lost your job, and we went bankrupt or something; I do believe that I would still love you just as much. Can't prove it. But I'm sure of it," she said.

"Hmm, right words but of doubtful credibility.

"So that's it?" I said. "Doesn't change much. And, if you care, my self-esteem is still pretty much in the shitter."

"I do care Ollie, but no, that is not quite it, as you say," she said. I looked her askance.

"My point of view-and yours too if you want," she said.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," I said. She snickered.

"I wish I could get you to forget a few other things," she said.

"Yeah, me too," I said. She studied me. I was sure I was going to hate this one, but, whatever. I mean how much worse could things get?

"Ollie, when you caught me and Billy that day, I was embarrassed. But, truth told, I wasn't all that concerned about your feelings. Frankly, I wasn't worried at all. That was my very very bad! I didn't consider how you might feel. Jesus, stupid stupid stupid on my part! Anyway, then I treated you as if 'you' were the moron when it was me all along. All of that said, there was and is, in my mind, the reality of things," she said.

"The reality of things?" I said, really not getting where she was going with this.

"Yes. It came to me the day after it all came down. I mean you catching me and him, Mavis treating you like a two days old donut, you crying your eyes out-and don't deny it; we both know you were devastated by it all. Anyway, the whole thing, it came to me," she said.

"What came to you?" I said. I was doing my best to be patient. I signaled the waitress for a third cup of java. She came, refilled our mugs, smiled, and left us to our words.

"Yes, I was seeing things through my eyes while not considering that other people might see things from a whole different perspective, point of view. It came to me while I was bemoaning your reaction to everything to Mavis.

"Ollie, you have always been not only number one, but really the only one. People, like cars and video games and sporting events, divert us. They enter our lives and interact with us and help fill our days, our lives. Then, they leave and go to their homes and husbands and wives and jobs and golf games and the like. I was treating Billy, and a few other men over the years, like those kinds of things-like diversions, like toys. Hell, they were so fucking wonderful that I don't even remember their names, except for Billy, but that was just recent so, well, I remember his."

"But people are not video games, Emilie. They have feelings and opinions and attitudes that get applied to those around them-like for example wimpy assed husbands like me," I said. "At least that is the way Billy and the other men you just mentioned likely saw and see me.

"And your opinion of important things-important to me-like my limited sexual prowess, absolutely killed my self-esteem, Emilie. I got it up for Mavis last night because, frankly, I was still angry and that helped; but, you'll doubtless be shocked to learn, that I have been having a very difficult time even getting an erection at all since you put me down. And again, for some reason my being angry last night kinda cured my-what do they call it; oh yeah, erectile dysfunction," I said.

"I know that now, I mean how devastating my words to you were, but this is about my 'former' point of view. Oliver, I just never saw the harm in what I was doing. Yes, I was going after the larger toys, if you will. You didn't have one, others did, and I wanted them-the bigger toys. But, and this is key for me, Ollie, I always came home to you, always gave you more and better than I ever did any of them; and we made love. With them it was for laughs and the bigger orgasms; with you it was commitment and wonderful oneness," she said, "lastingness.

"The bottom line, Ollie, is that I know better now; and I want another chance. Whaddya say?" she said. I slid down in my chair a few inches and gazed at her sitting there. She had a hopeful expression on her face. I guess it was hopeful.

"You said your 'former' point of view. What did that mean exactly?" I said.

"Good, you were paying attention. It means, dear one, that I understand how wrong I was before. I understand now, and I am into making things right and doing right from now on. No more Billy, no more anyone but you," she said. I nodded.

I was now faced with a dilemma. Mavis had asked me to call her later in the week. And damn me, I wanted to. But, similarly, I wanted to take my wife up on her offer to change. As hard as it would have been for me to believe her before this little sit down; I did believe her now.

Suddenly, I was seeing things from her perspective. I understood her need, or if not her need, her want. Still there was the codicil that I apparently wasn't worth a shit as a lover, not really. Mavis had been nice about it, nicer than my wife, but she had left no doubt about the fact that I had a lot to learn. And, then there was the size thing; I was small, and I was condemned to remain small, not a damn thing I could do about that. So what now? I decided to play a delaying game.

"You've given me a lot to think about, Emilie. And, I intend to do just that. We'll be talking again," I said.

******

And, I did think about all she'd said. And, I was of the considered opinion that she was still going to cheat, just more surreptitiously. Oh yeah, she was going to be careful, but nothing was going to cut her off from her apparent need for bigger and more talented penises. And so, I made the call to Mavis.

I answered the door and was met by a vision. Her look told me two things. One, she really did have some interest in keeping me on the line; and two, she was way prettier, when she wanted to be, than I had originally thought possible-I mean way prettier. She smirked at my momentary state of speechlessness.

"Well, are you going to invite me in?" she said.

"Uh-yes-of course," I said. She smiled as she swayed past me and into the room.

"I guess I didn't waste my time getting ready for tonight," she said.

"No, no you didn't. You look great," I said. "Wanna glass of wine?"

"That would be nice," she said. I nodded, and headed for the mini-bar my apartment featured.

I handed her her stem glass of sauterne and toasted her with mine.

"So, Oliver, does this mean that you and your wife are still… " she started.

"Broken up?" I said. She nodded. "The jury's still out. At any rate, you said to call, and well, here we are," I said. I got a look for that one.

"Hmm, not sure of your druthers at this point are you? Maybe your wife awakened a monster," she said. I just smiled.

"Could be," I said. "But, so shall we get a little more comfortable?" Her turn to smile.

"Of course. Hope you've been practicing," she said. This time she smirked.

"Smartass," I said. She giggled.

She came to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. The kiss was soft the kiss was gentle the kiss was deep and the kiss was enslaving. I knew Mavis from whensoever, but, I had never known this Mavis!

I fell to me my knees in front of her. She was still dressed, and the little depression in the center of her miniskirt was oh so female. I kissed it. She had her hands on her hips watching me surrender any miserable smidgen of a vestige of male macho-osity I might ever in my wildest most obscene fantasies have imagined I possessed. I was falling in love with her. I think I was. Or, was it just the impossible pressure of the moment. Damned if I knew.

An hour later, naked, and spent; I had no words no ideas no direction. But, she did.

"And, now you go home and talk to her," said Mavis. "What you will say is that which comes to you. I know you don't know at the moment. But, you will know when you see her. And, don't worry. Whatever you decide will be fine with me."

"She was right, I would not, could not, not at that moment have decided anything. But, when the time came I knew that my choice would be my choice and it would be the right one for me. Mavis the playmate, the high school cheerleader, the sex symbol was also wise. I really had never known this woman.

******

I awoke in my own bed. Emilie was just awakening. She licked her lips. She smiled at me. "You gonna grant me my sloppy seconds," she said, smiling at me. "I know you fucked her last night, and that's okay. But, today is another day, and I want some too. So…?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," I said. She laughed outright and spread her legs for me to take her. And, I did. I did it as energetically and as hardcore as I could. She seemed to like it.

I rolled off to the side panting. One thing about all of my recent dealings with Emilie, I was beginning to get the sex I needed at least for the short term.

"That was good for me," I said.

"Good," she said. "I'm glad. So-I mean-can I ask a question?"

"Okay, sure," I said.

"I know we're not exactly even, but…?"

"I don't know, Emilie, I really don't like the guy. All of those years fucking you, him laughing at me the whole time-you joining in with him. That's a hard nut. He could suck my dick in front of both you and his wife and we still wouldn't be even. I just don't know," I said. I saw something in her look: a light go off in her head.

"Okay, honey. I do understand," she said.

*******

"Hello, girlfriend," said Mavis as she took her seat across from her friend. "So do I measure up?"

"Oh yeah, you do," said Emilie. "You actually have him believing that he's the man. Well, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but he is a helluva a lot happier than he was."

"And Billy? His chances?" said Mavis. "He asked me to ask you."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," said Emilie, "but let's eat first." She signaled the waitress, who was only a few feet away and they ordered.

As they ate Emilie laid out her plan. "Well, it would be neat to watch that particular show, but Billy wouldn't go for it in a million years," said Mavis. "He sees himself as Ollie's better because of the dick size thing. He'd not be wanting to give that up, that edge up."

"Well, he has to if he ever wants to get into these panties again. You tell him that. It won't kill him, and it could lead to some real interesting times for all of us, even Ollie," said Emilie.

"I'll ask him. Hell, I'll threaten him, with what you and I've got on him now his choices are more than limited. He'll go for it," said Mavis. Emilie smiled.

"You said it," said Mavis.

"Yeah, blackmail him? Right, that boss of his would fire his ass just for a rumor of such unacceptable proclivities," said Emilie.

******

I was at work when it hit me: the light going off in Emilie's eyes when we'd last talked. She'd thought of something that she thought would get me to accept his dicksmanship doing her: I was certain of it. I knew that she'd be sounding out Mavis on it, her plan, and I needed to know exactly what it was. Hence, the mini-recorder in Emilie's purse. Would she find it and figure out what I was doing? Unlikely, but in any event, I'd soon know one way or the other.

Two days after our confab about Billy; she hit me with it. Of course I already knew the score in general terms, so I was prepared. I'd gotten every word of her discussion with Mavis including what Mavis really thought of me, which wasn't all that bad. Mavis I could deal with, that is her opinion of me and my bedroom skills. She was at least amenable to giving me a chance to learn the right way of things according to womankind. That was something.

"Honey, I have an idea. I won't kid you, I ran it by Mavis first," said Emilie. Well, so far she was on the up and up with me.

"Really?" I said.

"What if, there were a way for us to even up the score so that all of the things that we-Billy and I-did would have been atoned for?" she said.

"Atoned for?" I said. This was getting good. Though I'd gotten most of the confab between the two women, I hadn't gotten the details. I had to assume they'd come up with those either before or after the conversation that I'd managed to tape. Whatever, I was about to get the skinny and I had to admit the two of them had come up with a doozy of a plan.

"Yes," she said. I stared at her, waiting for her to continue. She seemed a tad nervous, but confident.

"What if Billy were to suck you off, and I mean in front of me and Mavis. What if-and well-what if you were to do him up his butt," she said. I began to laugh.

"Yeah, right. Like any real man would ever go for something like that for no payoff except to make amends to someone he despises.

"Wait a minute-there would be a payoff, an acceptable one, acceptable to him, wouldn't there?" I said. Now she looked down. She looked up. She nodded.

"Billy wants to be able to see me again. You know, every once in a while," she said. My eyes narrowed. She actually imagined, after all of the water under the bridge, that this-making us even as she thought-would bring me to heel.

I had a thought. Maybe there might be a way. A germ of a plan was coming together. One that really and truly might make us even. Emilie would get her horse's cock from her horse's ass of a lover; and I'd get mine, oh yeah!

I slowly began nodding my acceptance of her offer. I laid it on her. "But, Billy doesn't get you unless I get Mavis each and every time he does you. Got any problem with that?" I said. Her mouth dropped open. I could have been wrong, but she seemed to be at least mildly jealous of Mavis.

She looked a tad unsure of herself now. But, then she smiled. "Yes, sir," she said. "I'll work that out with Mavis. She likes you, you know. Told me so just the other day." I knew Mavis had said as much, but she'd also said that I needed a busload of training to be worth a damn in bed. Well, okay, she, Mavis, was going to be the one to do the training; and, I was going to be the one to enjoy it!

I'd risked having my plan blow up in my face by making me serially doing Mavis a condition of my giving into Emilie. But, I reasoned, it was either that or nothing; that was going to be ironclad. I mean she would be doing the same with Billy. The way I saw it fair was fair. This little trade we were making, would be a small price to pay; at least in her eyes, actually all of their eyes, to get what she wanted. Well, that was my reasoning.

It was two days later that Emilie came to me with a big smile on her face. "Okay, stud," she said, "Mavis is thumbs up on your condition." I was all smiles.

******

The night of the big get-even party was tentative. Billy was looking a tad morose; Mavis unsure, but trying to hide it; and, Emilie hopeful. Me? I was positively ebullient! The motion operated camera and voice activated recording gear would get it all; and, I would have what I needed to really and truly ruin my rival's life and to get my revenge if I so desired. I was going to own the adulterous bastard. I might not have a big dick, but I sure as hell had a busload of IQ points on the lot of them. Yes, ebullient was the word: I couldn't lose. The movies I was about to produce would put the lot of them under my thumb for freakin' ever! I was about to be the driver of this particular bus, and I was going to make the most of it; the future was gonna be mine. The past had been lost to me, but from now on it was going to me doing the laughing.

"So how are going to do this stuff," said Billy, the mood was reflected in his tone of voice.

"Slow and easy and in the master bedroom," I said. He gave me a sardonic sneer; well, that's the way I read it.

Emilie came in with Mavis in tow. "Well, we're all here. Should be fun," said Emilie; her smile was a little forced.

"Fuck you," said Billy. She frowned, and it was a frown with that was loaded with ire.

I was ready to go through with the farce because I had an agenda. And, not because I was dying to cornhole my worst enemy though that was going to happen. But, be that as it may, it was down and dirty time.

Billy lay on his stomach, eyes shut, and I think he was gritting his teeth.

Mavis came to me with the KY and smeared it thickly on my penis. She leaned over her husband and poked at his anus spearing him with fingers heavily coated with the stuff. I gave her a look. She just shrugged and mouthed me a silent message: "Have fun."

"Spread a little wider, little man, make it easy on yourself," I said. I could hear him hiss his anger. I pushed into him. I did go slow at first then rammed my cock home impaling him. I screwed him slowly for almost fifteen minutes, stopping and starting numerous time to make the experience for him last. Finally, I shuddered as I climaxed filling him with my sperm.

Shrinking out of him, Emilie handed me a wet towel. I cleaned myself off. He stirred. He was obviously in some discomfort. He gathered his clothes wordlessly and went into the bathroom. Five minutes later he came out. He didn't meet my gaze and headed out of the house. I presumed that Mavis would need a ride home. I'd be doing those honors, but not until after I fucked her in front of my wife.

I went to Mavis, I was still naked. "Think you could get me up for another round?" I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"I want to do you. Here in front of her." I nodded in the direction of my wife.

Emilie looked at me. "You want to do her in front of me?" said Emilie.

"Yes. You can join in if you want," I said, "but Mavis will be the primary fuckee." The look on Emilie's face almost made up for all of the misery she'd caused me-almost. Before I'd doubted myself, but no more, Emilie was jealous. Oh, how the world turns. What goes around really and truly does come around.

Mavis stripped and smiled in the direction of Emilie. There was something going on there but damned if I could figure what it was. Maybe even something to do with Billy being so accommodating. No matter, the video I was getting and the audio were going to make things right for me whatever happened. But, all that said-or thought-I sure was curious.

Naked Mavis took Billy's place on the bed. "Come here, "Em," I said. Kneel in front of me. Get me up," I said. She gave me a look that could only have been interpreted as concern, but she did as I asked. I had to say something.

"Look, you got him in here to pay for his sins-and maybe yours. But, you also did, I am sure, to get to a place where I would be less forbidding of you doing him in the future. Well, I'm still not sure about all of that. The role of a cuckold is not all that palatable to me. But, regardless of any of that, you still owe me, and tonight is partial payment. Okay?" I said. She didn't say anything, but she took my shriveled cock in her hand and guided it to her mouth.

She began licking the length of it and my balls. It was clear to me that she wanted me up and done; she was trying her damnedest to get the job done fast. The good news was that she was succeeding. She let the glans slip between her lips. I was already feeling my dick beginning to come back to life. Five more minutes and she had me stone hard. My cock ached, but Mavis was going to get a royal screwing regardless, and my wife was going to get to see it and hopefully regret some of the things she'd done to me. Well, hope springs eternal.

Mavis flashed me a smile, in any other setting I would have considered it conspiratorial, but here and now…

"Come on mister, mount me," she said. Emilie stood back and leaned again the dresser. She'd watch, but for whatever reason, she didn't look especially enthused.

I mounted Mavis and guided my cock to her slit. She took hold of it and impaled herself. I slipped in easily and drove all of it home. I got an "ugh" from her; I loved that.

I began screwing her. I went slow; I wanted the experience to last. I knew I probably didn't have another bullet in me after this one so this one had to do the job, two jobs really. One, get Mavis off, and two give Emilie something to think about.

Some seven minutes later she was bucking like a rodeo horse. I pile drove my cock a deep as I could. Her face took on an I-can't-believe-it look-no-glaze. She was coming and coming big time. Emilie came to us again and knelt by the bedside.

"Shit! Why couldn't you do that to me, damn you," she said.

Finally, I felt the last dregs of my ball sack ready to blast into her. Mavis noticed and squealed.

"Thank God," she said, as her breath returned, "you didn't leave me hanging." I smiled

I rolled off of her, breathing hard. Well, it had been a pretty good romp overall.

******

Emile joined us on the bed. I decided to go for it. "Okay, you two, I gotta know. How did you get Billie to sit still for it? And, I do mean my fucking him," I said. "I know for damn sure it wasn't him wanting to make amends to me, or even to have a chance to get back to fucking Emilie."

The girls who were lying on either side of me glanced at each other.

"You gonna tell him or am I?" said Emilie.

"I'll do it," said Mavis.

"And?" I said.

"Billie's been hiding it for some time, but I caught him on his computer a couple of months ago. He's a wanna be cuckold-and-a sissy. I got pics of him dressing in my clothes prancing around. I've got him by the balls." said Mavis. "I held it over his head; he had no choice."

"I don't believe it," I said. "Mister big heman and all of that. I mean no way."

"Way," said Emilie. "What he didn't want though-at all-and he fought us on it, was to be 'your' cuckold. He enjoyed making you his, but now, well, you know."

"Jesus!" I said. "And, the bi stuff?"

"He had no choice. It was our-well-Emilie's hope that when this night was history that maybe you'd be more, you know amenable to letting her have some play time," said Mavis. "IN spite of his newly discovered sissyhood, your wife still wants his oversized tool to satisfy her needs. I looked over at Emilie.

"Emily, you and I will talk," I said.

******

She sat opposite me and stirred her cup of tea. I had a snifter of brandy in front of me. "So where are we, Oliver? Are we all right? Gonna make it or not?" said Emilie.

"Yeah, I guess we are," I said.

"And Billy…?" she said. I knew what she was referring too.

"You love the guy?" I said. "Tell me straight."

"His cock? Yes. Him? No," she said. "And, if I may, his humiliation at your hands last night will be something he doesn't soon forget. You've gotten your revenge, Ollie, and that big time." That I didn't think we were anywhere near even I didn't voice. But, I did have a decision to make.

"I guess, as long as I can have Mavis whenever I want," I said. Emilie nodded.

"That's okay by me. I mean it's an even trade from my point of view," she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. "But, I really don't want him here anymore. This was a onetime thing as far as I'm concerned. You and he gotta do your playing somewhere else. I don't trust him. Heck, I don't trust myself around him; I might do that for which I could be arrested."

"Okay, my husband. I can live with that. I hope that at some point we can get by all of the mistakes, mostly mine, that have been made. I just need us to be in love again. And, you know, be able to play a little now and then," said Emilie.

"I've never been out of love with you, 'Em. But, crazy with jealousy and upset, yeah, I've been those," I said.

"And, I want you to be jealous. I want you to be a good little cuckold. I want you to obey me in the bedroom in all our liaisons. But, all of that said. I promise to submit to you in every other way. I'm yours to command all of the time apart from those few hours a week that I'm- or we're- naked and doing it. Okay.

"Okay. At any rate, your little cucky needs some tender loving care right now. Think you could see your way clear to grant him a mercy fuck?" I said.

"Actually, I was already thinking of doing exactly that," I said. And she did. I took her missionary, doggie, and cowgirl.

The following day, I knew, she went to see Billy and fuck him. The good news for me is that Mavis found it useful to come and see mea at the same time.

******

In the afterglow of our screwing, we lay naked together and pensive. "So, you're willing to be her cuckold?" said Mavis.

"Yep, I guess so. Just her wimpy, sweet little man whenever she decides she needs your Billy's cock to do her up right," I said.

"I never would have believed it," said Mavis. "But, I guess stranger things have happened."

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "But, I have options too anymore. You are a pretty damn nice piece yourself, girl. I can't at all understand why your hubby isn't satisfied with you. I mean Emilie's a great piece of ass. But you are every bit of that and more."

"Well, thank you for that. A girl does like to feel appreciated."

"And you certainly are," I said.

The times were changing, and I was changing with them. I had to believe that down the line there might be challenges, but barring anything actually unseemly so, we were going to make. I could feel it.

-----------------------------

   Series:Olivia and Victor Ellison
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She needs him but wants something else.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/73694/olivia-and-victor-ellison
Published:2013-03-18
I looked at the wall clock. She still wasn't home, and it was ten till midnight. I'd gotten home an hour earlier after having been abandoned by her at her company's, Homestead Interior Design and Furnishings, party. She's an agent for them: she deals with department stores buying such. At any rate, she'd simply just up and left with some guy while I was in the bathroom. The she is my wife, Olivia Ellison, and her current level of disrespect is highly likely to put an end to that little piece of legal reality. Pissed didn't even begin to describe my level of ire.

I heard the garage door opener engage. Finally! The usual one minute lag time, and then, again as usual, the back screen door slamming. She clearly didn't care if I were asleep or not. That pissed me off even more.

"Oh! You're still up," she said, stopping in her tracks when she spotted me sitting at the kitchen table.

"Yeah, well if I had been sleeping, your entrance would have put an end to that," I said.

"Yes, I did kinda slam the door didn't I?" she said.

"Yes, yes you did-again," I said.

"Didn't mean to. Sorry."

"Got anything else to say to me?" I said.

"Like?" she said. My look sobered her. "Oh, you mean about my being so late?" she said. I just stared at her. She knew what I meant. I guess she was hoping I was too tired to deal with a confrontation at this particular hour of night; I wasn't.

"Calvin, Calvin Grayson, He's an old friend. He was invited to the party by one of the mucky-mucks who knew him from somewhere. He asked me if I wanted to see his new place. We, you and I, have been thinking about looking for a new place. I thought it would be useful to check his out. It was just around the corner from where we were. We didn't do what you may be thinking, Victor. But, I guess, time did kinda get away from us. I was shocked when I realized that it was after 11:00PM. I hurried home as soon as I could after that," she said.

"He asked you to see his new place? Not his etchings?" she took on a disgusted look. "And, how did you get home? It sure as hell wasn't with me?" I said.

"Calvin gave me a ride. He's sorry too for causing me to be so late," she said. I nodded.

"Drop your panties," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Drop your panties. If he fucked you, I'll be able to tell, and if he did I'll be seeing a lawyer in theam If he didn't we may still have marriage-I say may-so drop your panties," I said. "Do it now."

"Now wait just a minute, buster. You are way over the top here," she said. "We didn't do anything. I am not dropping my panties." I nodded.

"Okay, I'll be sleeping in the master bedroom tonight, so I can get an early start packing. I mean all of my stuff is in there. You sleep in the guest room just for tonight. You can move back in tomorrow when I'm gone. Oh, and I promise to not disturb you in the morning. It's Saturday. You can sleep in," I said. "I promise not to slam the door." She gave me an I'm-disgusted look.

"What are you talking about?" she said.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," I said. "I'm leaving you and divorcing you. It ain't rocket science. He fucked you, you cheated on me, and you're standing there actually daring to try and get me to forget about it. Well, that ain't happening. I will not be your willing cuckold."

"Look, Victor, you are going way overboard here. He did not fuck me. I swear it," she said.

"So drop your pants," I said.

"Victor, please!" she said. I just stared at her. She sighed and began pushing her pants floorward.

"Spread 'em," I said. She did. She had not been fucked.

"We'll talk in the morning," I said. She strode off in a huff. Well, that was just too damn bad.

******

The coffee smelled good. Well, the coffee was always good, but the day figured not to be. She was sitting at the table stirring her morning candied coffee.

I got a cup of the black elixir-I'm tough, I drink it straight-and sat down opposite her. "Okay, I guess it's time to talk," she said.

"Yeah, it is," I said. "What did you think you were doing hanging me out to dry at 'your' company party, Olivia? A party where I knew virtually nobody and had absolutely nothing in common with any of them? Do I mean so little to you that you can do that to me without a second thought?

"Oh, and before you answer, There is no way I believe that you went to his new place to check it out. Maybe the bed or the couch, but the house per se-not a chance!" I said.

She deflated. "Okay. First off, you're my husband, but you are not my only love interest," she said. "No, that's not quite right. You are my only love interest, but not my only lust interest. She'd stunned me. I think my mouth was twitching, kinda like a goldfish's. She smirked.

"What the hell!" I said.

"In the last hour or so this morning, I made the decision to tell you the complete and utterly unadorned truth. Some of it may piss you off pretty good, maybe even hurt you some-your ego. But, that said, some may actually make you feel better," she said.

"Really!" I said. "Sounds like a lot more bad than good." She shrugged.

"Perhaps," she said. "Calvin is an old friend, not just somebody who happened to get invited to the party."

"Like I said, I'll be packing. You have a nice life, yuh hear," I said. She sighed, ignored me, and continued her spiel. For the life of me, I continued to sit and listen to her tripe.

"His company, Hilliard Software Inc, is based downtown. We have lunch occasionally; I invited him; he's a fun guy. He has fucked me in the past, but that was before I met you. That said, he didn't fuck me last night, as you discovered. Sometime in the future I may let him do me again; he's part of the lust interest that I alluded to a minute ago. But again, we didn't do it last night. And, it may never happen.

"And why would you wait, dear soon to be ex-wife," I sneered. She smirked again: her level of confidence was truly remarkable. "I mean if you are so overcome with lust for him. And maybe others?" Another smirk.

"Why? Well, because Calvin is bi, and a bit more bi than hetero, if you get my drift. So, like I say, it may never happen, him doing me. Anyway, he is very well equipped and sensitive to a partner's needs. Frankly, Victor, you could learn a thing or two from him," she said. "And, I am not your soon to be ex-wife. I love only you, and the idea of a divorce is not even to be entertained."

I ignored her opinion as to the likelihood of a divorce.

"You sure know how to hurt a guy," I said; "Eleven years we've been man and wife, and all of this time not one word from you about my-what-inadequacies. Been cheating on me right along have you Liv?"

"No. In truth there were a couple of times, but right along as you put it? No," she said. I could feel my face darken, cloud over.

"Like I said, I'll be sleeping the master tonight. You can have it back tomorrow," I said.

"Why? You never sinned?" she said. "You and Carol Radcliff, for example?" She had me there. She'd caught me with Carol's underpants actually in my hands during a party while we were engaged. Carol and I had never done it, hadn't gotten that far, but we would have. At any rate, Livy had caught us; so she and I had broken up; later made up, and finally put it behind us.

"Okay, point for you, but that was, in point of fact, before we were married; and no, I have not sinned since," I said. She knew I'd had chances. And truth told I'd come close a few times, but, I had never acted on any of them since we'd said our I-dos. "Who did you do it with? I mean those couple of times," I said.

"One night stands in bars. You were out of town both times. I don't remember the names or the bars. It was just sex. A roll in the hay, and goodbye," she said. The last time was three years ago and the time before that five years ago."

"Hmm, and I'm supposed to believe that?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"You still haven't answered my question," I said.

"About last night?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Don't know really. It was spur of the moment. Figured we'd be back in an hour tops. But, like I said before, time just got away from us," she said.

"You know what frosts me the most. Not that you left with him. Not that you cheated on me those two times. Those are bad enough. But what really frosts me, is that last night you didn't give a damn about me at all. I'm beginning to believe that you never really have," I said.

"Victor, nothing could be farther from the truth. Yes, I was inconsiderate. Yes, I did kinda abandon you last night, and I'm sorry. Okay?" she said. I nodded slowly wondering just where we were at now. Did I feel any better than I had before we talked? The answer to that was an unequivocal no.

"You say you care about me? But I'm not sure I can believe you. I have to get away from you, at least for the time being. Try to figure things out. I'll give you a call in a few days and we can talk if you want to. If not it'll be splitsville for the both of us.

"I mean all of the above being whatever it is, and you still have the cajones to say that sometime in the future you may let this Calvin asshole fuck you. Do that, and we're done no matter what else happens. I mean you actually daring to say something like that to me is a slap in the face that may have us headed for divorce court anyway. But, like I say, I aim to do some thinking. You might wanna be putting your thinking cap on too; I mean if you really do care about us staying together. Your arrogance, Livy, is what's way over the top here, not my checking out your panties."

"Look, Victor…," But, I was already up and headed for the stairs.

******

The Starlight was not fancy: a bed, a couple of chairs, a bathroom and a closet; but for the moment it got me away from her. And, it had the added benefit of being close to work. I'm an accountant for Horowitz and Gamble Inc. I handle high end clients with a penchant for wanting their incomes sheltered even if it has to be offshore. Income $250K, perks very good. Life'd been good to me, that except for a too pretty wife, who really didn't care very much how she did me. And these, her latest exploits in that regard, were merely the proverbial straw-too-much.

Now, things were going to change and change fast, or it would be an end to us. And oh, about the high cost of divorce? It wouldn't be high for me. I did know how to dodge that bullet for damn sure; hell, it's what I did for a living. And my wife, Olivia Ellison? She damn well knew it. But, this last said, I guess she figured her undeniably sensational body, looks, and bedroom skills made her Teflon when it came to how men dared to behave toward her.

******

She looked over at her husband of fourteen years and didn't bat an eyelash. "So did you get any new business for your trouble last night," said Anita Grayson, age forty-six, still pretty, and clearly a female to be reckoned with; she was alluding to the party he'd gone to the previous night ostensibly to garner new business for his gyms and health clubs.

"Some leads is all. Mainly an opportunity to meet potentials," he said. "Improved health and fitness is something that most people don't think about until their bodies have already gone to pot and the road back is discouragingly steep." She nodded.

Hear the lieutenant governor was there. Did you get a chance to talk to him?" she said.

"Yes, he was there. Just got introduced is all, no lengthy conversation. Seemed like everybody wanted a piece of him," he said. She noticed a slight, but definite, hesitation when she'd asked her last question. Something was going on. Calvin Grayson was good at some things, but not worth a damn at playing poker. The question then became, why would her husband be skittish, for that what he was, about answering a question relating to a high profile pol? She'd be keeping an eye on him, her husband. She suspected that he was playing with boys; and if he was, was the lieutenant governor one of his playmates? The man was married to a truly beautiful ex-model. Was she just arm candy, a political expediency? Anita Grayson doubted it; but, stranger things had happened.

He put down his drink and came to her. "Let's get physical," he said. She smiled.

"You want to put that great big thingy of yours inside of me?" she said, now giggling.

"Guilty," he said. He covered her left breast with his hand and massaged it through the material of her dress and paper-thin bra. She was a hot piece was his wife. She was every bit as good as Olivia Ellison, his second favorite piece. The thought made him smile. He'd have to be visiting Olivia soon; she deserved a dose of his nine inch dick, and she was after all his to command. Life had been good to Calvin Grayson. All he had to do to keep it that way was to be super-discreet. Yes, discreet was the word.

He let his hand trail down until he was squeezing the covered flesh of her vulva.

"God you are for sure one hot momma," he said.

"Well, if so, what are you waiting for, big boy, take me. Do me," she said. He did.

******

Again, Olivia is a part time interior decorator for Homestead Interior Design and Furnishings; she's sort of self-employed; she works out of our house as a decorator and sales agent for them. She gets most of her business by word of mouth from past customers though she does also get leads from the home company. That said, her business was more of a hobby than anything else, she makes a tenth of what I do. This last no doubt her reason for assuring me of her love and devotion and my importance to her sentient existence.

I was no fool. I hadn't seen any evidence of it before, but I had to believe that she'd been cheating on me more than she'd admitted to; she was just real good at keeping it hidden. But, as for that, the Preston Scott Agency would soon have the evidence-any evidence-of her perfidy both past and present if there indeed was any, that quite apart from her already alluded to admissions; and if so, if there were any evidence, she was dead meat.

******

I was sitting at my desk having just hung up the phone when my secretary buzzed me.

"Yes, Denise," I said.

"Mister Ellison, a Mr. Scott is here to see you," said Denise. "Said he had an appointment?" Denise was under strict orders to never let anyone gain access to me without an appointment; hence, her clear reluctance to recognize the importance of Mr. Preston Scott, my newly hired PI, and my very old friend from college days.

Preston and I had been tighter than a witch's cunt in years gone by. I employed his services on rare occasions when a client needed something special, usually to defend himself or herself from spousal attacks during a divorce. At any rate we had a long history.

It'd been a month since I'd called him; that, the same length of time since I'd been home. Odd thing about that last, she, Olivia, had not tried to contact me at all during that span of time. It was like she either didn't give a damn or was giving me time to get over my mad before doing so. Well, hell, I hadn't tried to contact her either.

"Send him in, Denise, I forgot to tell you about him. I was expecting him," I said.

I met him at the door to my office as Denise flagged him in. He was smiling.

"I take it from your smile that you have news," I said.

"Oh indeed I do," said Preston Scott. I smiled him to go on.

"Yes, well, let me begin with the bottom line, or lines if you prefer. Your wife is a prostitute. Mister Grayson is her pimp, and she-they-have been at it for some five years. I should add, he isn't fucking her, at least not recently as far as I can tell. And believe it or not he appears to be happily married.

"Is he bi do you know?" I said.

"Yes. And I haven't been able to find out for certain, but I don't think the wife, Anita Grayson's her name, knows about his interest in boys or the business he and your wife are involved in. The Graysons own three beauty salons and four gyms. He runs the gyms and his wife runs the salons. They've got some bucks.

"You know, Victor, most of the time, when I collect the goods on this or that spouse, I feel bad about it. Hate to see marriages go south. But, in this case your wife and her partner in crime are so far beyond the pale that I have to warn you to get your ducks in a row and get the hell outta Dodge muy prontero!," he said.

"Prostitute? Pimp? Five years' worth?" I said.

"Yes. I have 'em on tape and video both. I also have the statements on tape of some of her liaisons. The cops are going to have field day if you decide to out them. My guys talked to at least a dozen of her current and former clients who are willing to testify if we keep their wives, bosses, and significant others the hell outta the loop," he said. "I could've gotten more, but it would be more than superfluous to have bothered," he said.

"But, how…?" I said.

"You're kidding, right? I can find out anything, Victor; the world's an open book, really. Bartenders, beauty salon workers, braggarts at the gyms: it was a piece of cake. They're dead meat, Victor. How dead will be your choice," he said.

"Sweet Jesus," I said. My bud took on a look, maybe tentative.

"Preston?" I said, reacting to his look.

"A friend of yours is one of her playmates, Victor," he said.

"A friend of mine?"

"Yeah, you do his taxes like you do mine," he said. He paused. I waited.

"Ronald McElroy," he said.

He'd stunned me. The lieutenant governor. "Boy oh boy oh boy!" I said.

"Yeah, at least that," he said.

"Okay, ducks in a row, got it," I said. "Anything else?"

"Only these, the evidence," he said, pushing two large manila envelopes across the desk to me. "I wouldn't look at the pictures or watch the videos; they're pretty intense. And, what they say…"

"About me?" I said, interrupting him in mid-sentence.

"Yeah," he said. I nodded. Would I look at them? Give a listen to the audio? I wasn't sure, but maybe not. I respected Preston's opinion on things, so probably not.

We talked a little longer and then he was gone. Now, I had to get moving and get things accomplished before she realized I was on to her. I did have questions, a lot of questions. Well, one can imagine. But, they'd have to wait a bit. Ducks in a row, that was the ticket. Had to take care of that stuff muy prontero as my bud had advised me. I also had to go home and keep up appearances for the short term just in case.

******

She sat across the table from him slowly shaking her head from side to side. "No, Calvin, for the final time no!" she said.

"Look, with just a modicum of care, and minimum of effort; we could be rich and that in no time," he said.

"I don't like it," she said. "Selling my body for a few bucks to get my rocks off is one thing. But drugs, getting in bed with those gangsters? Not good," she said.

"We make what, on the side, from the sex thing?" he said. "Maybe twenty or thirty G's a year total, and we split that?"

"Yes, I guess," she said.

"We could net ten times that much rockin' with the Gonzales brothers," he said. They have the product, we have the customers, customers that owe us if we get right down to it.

"Look, Livy, the salons and the gyms actually belong to Anita. Her inheritance funded the damn things. It's scary what could happen if she ever discovers our little side business. At least with the brothers we would be able to write our own tickets.

"And what happens when the Gonzales brothers decide they don't need us anymore. Then what?" she said.

"We just make damn sure that they do continue to need us," he said.

"If we actually did this stupid thing, what would be my role," she said. "I already have a husband who I can only hope is crying nightly in his beer, trying to get over his mad. But as to that, I'm beginning to doubt he ever will. It's been more than a month now, and he hasn't returned, called, sent along a postcard-nothing!" she said. Her friend smiled.

"Lucky for us," said Calvin. "It's given us time to set this other in motion. But to answer your question: you'd be helping me convince our more convincable clients that we could deliver to them that which they are probably already getting from some other supplier."

"I don't know. It's not something I feel good about," she said. "Plus, I actually love my husband. He's a little too square for the real world, but he is trustworthy and loving. I need what he has to offer, Calvin; well, apart from his nothing bedroom skills. Risking this thing with the brothers…

"I mean you've got Anita and your occasional boyfriends. For the record, who's at the top of your boy list now, Calvin? Is it that Johnson kid? Somebody new? At least in prison you'd have a cast of hundreds to choose from, probably. Me? Let's just say I don't fancy the mono-sex world of the state Bastille."

"Whatever," said Calvin, snickering. "We would not be handling the product. We would just be pointing likely well-heeled clients in the right direction and stepping back and letting Marcus and Jorge Gonzales and their ilk do the rest. Like I said, we'd never be getting our hands dirty." She nodded, but it was a definitely qualified nod.

"But, Livy, on another topic; how are you thinking of handling your erstwhile hubby? I mean he has been out there amongst 'em for a while now. Frankly, that's just a little bit scary. We do not need him poking his nose into our enterprises. And what happens if and when he does come home. Will it be open arms for him or something less?" said Calvin. "You gotta be thinking about that. I mean how to keep him calm, cool, and collected."

"Don't know just yet. But, I suppose I do have to start thinking about it. I'll be nice to him, but I figure I'll wait for him to make the first move sexually. He has to learn his place. But, at any rate, that's between him and me," she said. He nodded.

"Okay, but don't turn him off, or worse, run him off. We need him to not be in a vengeful snit down the line," he said. "He does have resources, as you and I have discussed. Should he decide to employ them it could usher in a very bad day for us."

"I understand. And, no, I do not want him in the know or getting in the way either. Those things are absolutes," she said. "I'll have to figure something out, and I will."

******

I swear she jumped two feet into the air when she saw me. I was leaning against the door jamb leading from the kitchen watching her balance her checkbook at the dinette table; well, I thought that was what she was doing.

"Victor! Jesus! You scared the snot outta me," she said.

"Sorry about that," I said, not elaborating after the fact.

"I-I-I am so glad you're home. My God, I am," she said. She had risen from her seat and come to me. She tendered me a hug and a sweet, if a more or less perfunctory, kiss on the lips. "Welcome home, my man," she said.

"Really?" I said. "You really missed me?"

"Of course!" she said.

"Hmm, and yet I haven't heard word one from you since the day," I said.

"I know. I knew you were angry. And, I also knew you wouldn't be answering any calls from me in the near term. I was giving you time to come to-well-a more understanding state of mind," she said. "I should say I was just about to the point where I was going to be tracking you down. And never doubt it, I did miss you. I missed you a lot."

I nodded toward her still open check book. "Doing a little balancing?" I said. She nodded.

"Yes, I was afraid I was going to have to tap into the savings for the rent this month. The checking account-well-since you left… " My turn to nod.

"So which is it?" I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Which was it that you were missing the most me or my income?" I said.

"Truth?" she said. "Both."

"I'll put some cash in the account tomorrow," I said. "Wouldn't want our credit suffering, now would we." I wondered what she was doing with the money from her little side business. Figured she probably didn't want to be mixing the funds; I wouldn't were I her, I thought.

"How's that boyfriend of yours," I said. She took on a disgusted expression.

"I suppose you are referring to Calvin. He's not a boyfriend, Victor; just a friend. He's fine, and yes, I have talked to him some since you cut out on me. Lunches and one dinner. Now, can we leave the subject of Calvin the heck alone and get to solving 'our' problem? Really!" she said, a little too forcefully.

I looked at my watch. "Let's go out to dinner, Liv. Unless you've got a date with Calvin," I said. She seemed to be about to go off on me, but restrained herself. I snickered. I'd struck a nerve.

"Well, okay, I did plan to go to dinner with him tonight, but I will call and cancel. You're more important. Okay?" she said.

"What! you'd cancel a date with such a good lover?" I said.

"I told you, he's gay. We were not going to be doing anything you'd disapprove of," she said.

"No, you told me he was bi. Helluva difference," I said. "But, yes, do call and cancel. Well, I mean it is my first night back surprise or not." She nodded.

She went for her purse on the credenza and pulled out her cell. She dialed, waited, and was apparently answered. "Hi. Yeah, it's me. Gotta cancel. My hubby just got back. Yeah, me too. Thanks for understanding," she said.

"It was easy to figure out that it wasn't Calvin on the phone, more likely one of her dates. She had not used his name and the description of my return was a little too generic for it to have been someone in the know of our marital problems which I was more than certain good 'ole Calvin was."

"There, satisfied?" she said.

"A better question might be are you satisfied," I said.

She ignored me. "I have to freshen up, but we can go in maybe half an hour. Would that be all right?"

"Yes, sure," I said.

******

Anita Grayson was watching them closely… the woman had a handsome but way too young stud smiling nervously as they talked and sipped their drinks. The woman was dressed provocatively, but not sluttily. What they were about to do, or maybe had already done was clearly obvious.

She'd gotten a heads up that her husband, Calvin Grayson, was pimping for some woman, and now she knew who the woman was: Olivia Ellison. She'd met her a couple of times at dos her husband had brought her to. She, the Ellison woman was some kind of interior decorator and had done some decorating at their gyms and salons; she was talented in her field.

At first she hadn't believed it. But, an overheard conversation on the house phone, had decided her to follow up on what she'd overheard, and now she was here, and now she knew it was true. And, now she was a mixture of angry and amused. Her husband, who thought he was so smart, had proven himself dumber than even she had thought possible.

She watched as the couple left together. Clearly this was a case of going to happen not had already happened. She wondered how the woman's husband would react to the scene. Hell, she knew how he'd react unless he was some wimpy assed pussy. For the moment she'd file away the evidence, evidence gotten on her cell phone's camera; there would be a day.

******

The food was good at the Momma's Little Taste of Italy, always had been. After dinner, on a whim, I wheeled us over to the Crescendo, a seventies style discothèque on the outskirts of town. She smiled as we turned into the parking lot.

"Gonna be a fun night, I guess," said Olivia.

"That's the idea," I said. Inside, we were able to find a table near the far wall enough away from the blaring speakers to hear ourselves talk as the occasion might arise.

The DJ was on a break. He'd left on some intermission music for the patrons and a few couples were boogying around the floor.

"Are we going to be good, Victor, you and me?" she said. I stared at her and wondered, what the question she'd asked would mean, if she knew what I in fact did know about her activities. I smiled.

"Don't actually know yet. I'm still not happy about the way you've been treating me, Olivia. I guess we'll just have to wait and see." I had it in mind to offer her a last chance before the axe would fall. And, if she did seize the opportunity to redeem herself, would I care in any event. She'd been hanging horns on me for so long that it was going to be more than difficult to get by it, at least for my part.

"Victor?" she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"This place has rooms." She rolled her eyes to indicate the upstairs floors where the Hotel Crescendo's rooms were located. I smiled. I felt like a relief pitcher coming in in the late innings to save the game. Well, she had expected to spend the evening on her back hoping for some faceless dude to pleasure her-and pay her. The good news was I'd be getting her ass for free. But, even if I'd had to pay, the way she looked tonight would have made it more than worth it. I wondered how much she charged.

"Let's get one," I said.

"Let's," she echoed. As I signed for the room, one of the other counter attendants-there were three-talked to her, appeared to know her. It was a tell: she'd used the Crescendo's accommodations before. Clearly, she was not a cheap fuck, only the best for my personal whore. Then it hit me: the attendant thought I was a john. I left my gold Cross pen on the counter. I wanted an excuse to come back.

"Just as we got to the elevator, I feigned a sudden thought. "Jesus!" I said. "I left my Cross on the counter. Be right back," I said, leaving her standing there wondering what was going on.

Back at the counter, the attendant who'd helped me was holding my gold Cross pen. "Sorry," I said, "the pen belongs to miss-uh-"

"Rogers," said the clerk cueing me to the name she used when working her evening job.

"Yes, miss Rogers," I said. God, I was good. Maybe Preston should hire me part time. The thought brought as smile to my face.

"Why the big smile?" said Olivia.

"The pen has sentimental value," I said.

"Sentimental value?" she said.

"Yeah, it cost me $200. That's sentimental as hell," I said. She laughed.

The room was largish. Well, it was the Crescendo: it had a reputation to uphold.

She came to me and wrapping her arms around my neck melded her body to mine. The kiss was long and sweet and gentle and-meaningful. She was sending me a message. "I love you, Victor, everything else that's happened notwithstanding," she said. I nodded. I wondered if in the end, that I'd still be able to lower the boom on her and her pimp.

"I'd like to be able to believe that," I said, dodging the inferred question and the response she no doubt expected.

"I'll settle for that for the moment," she said. She stepped back from me and began to disrobe. I watched the love of my life, the woman who had long been the love of my life, reveal herself. My God she was beautiful, stunning really. I would never be able to get her out of my mind completely. Naked she came to me once more and repeated the lingering kiss. Regardless of what happened down the line, I very much intended this to be the best I'd ever done for her. Of course it remained to be seen how she would see things.

Stepping back once again, she began to strip me, slowly, methodically. Finally, the both of us naked, we remained rooted to the spot for some minutes. We indulged in some more kissing while letting our hands roam over the cool flesh of our bodies. She went to her knees.

She didn't immediately touch me. She just gazed at my hardening cock. She tilted her head slightly to the right as if studying my potential as a man. A potential that she more than any other living person well knew, and, had denigrated. She smiled, and reached out for it. She held it, lightly at first, in her hand.

She began to stroke it up and down finally stopping. She leaned in and slowly, ever so slowly, let it slide into her waiting mouth. She began to lick and suck me. It was maddeningly sensate. It tickled and thrilled and caused me to shudder. It was no more than a few minutes that I began to feel myself nearing a climax. I exploded into her mouth; it was shattering. I involuntarily crumbled to me knees in front of her. We kissed. Not gently, not anymore, but savagely.

I collapsed on the floor pulling her down on top of me. The feel of her flesh on mine was electric. I had to find a way to stop her whoring about! I had to. She had to be mine. But, in point of fact, could I stop her?

I was hard again in what could not have been more than several long minutes. She noticed and mounted me from the top. She rode me cowgirl staring down into my, what had to be, adoring eyes the whole time. She didn't laugh but her eyes seemed to; she owned me and she knew it. And why the hell wouldn't she know it: my face had to be an open book-oh yeah.

The smile faded from her face. I could see her almost awash in goosebumps as she climaxed. She shuddered. I was but a moment behind her. She screamed and fell forward her tits smothering my face deliciously.

"Was it good for you?" she said.

"Stupid question," I said. And it was. She giggled, kind of loudly giggled. And, it was the kind of giggle that would have announced to anyone within hearing that she knew she owned me. The upshot was that I didn't care, so long as I was the only one she owned.

The next weeks were mellow. I was certain that she'd had no dates during that period. Did she want them? Was anything changed? The answers to those two questions were that I had no idea. But then I did.

******

It was Sunday afternoon, and I'd been napping. The sun had been shining in on me for some little time before I realized it was cooking me alive. I got up and pulled the shades shut. Awake, and thirsty, I headed down stairs to get something to drink. She was on the phone.

"No we can't go out tonight. It's Sunday and I still have to baby little shit… No not for a while yet… No-no-no… No, I said, he still too skittish… Okay, so he's a wimp. He's also one hell of a breadwinner. You, on the other hand are not… Listen asshole, you come around here causing me any grief and you'll regret it, that quite apart from never getting into my panties again. Got it… I don't know, maybe in a few weeks, hard to say right now… So he's a wimp; you're an asshole… yeah-yeah-yeah, love you too." She hung up and headed for the downstairs bathroom.

Well that was revealing, I thought. Grayson? Some regular customer? I figured it was the latter. Grayson wouldn't have been calling, not while I was home. At least I didn't think he would.

Well, now I knew why she hadn't been working these past weeks. She was babying me while I got over, as she saw it, my snit. She was probably under pressure to spread for some over her better customers, or so I rationalized. The situation was actually amusing.

It was beginning to look like we wouldn't make it. I'd hoped, but no dice. She clearly didn't really give a damn about me. Needed me? Yeah, for my income, but anything else, no. Depressing.

******

Given the reality, what now, I wondered. Then it hit me, something my wife had mentioned in the heat of battle kept gnawing at me. I made a call. The result of the call? A certain Preston Scott came calling.

"Hello, Preston," I said as he took the seat opposite me in my office.

"Victor," he said.

I pushed the slip of paper over to him. "Can you find her?" I said.

"Carol Radcliff?" he said, reading the note.

"Yes, whatever you can find out. I've put a few particulars there as you see to maybe get you started. But, the truth is I haven't seen or heard from her in years," I said.

"Sure, I can find her," he said. "This her married name?"

"Okay, good," I said. "And, no that was her maiden name years go. She'd likely be married for sure.

******

The four of them had commandeered a table near the back of the foodery.

"So, mister Grayson, we have a deal then. You send me customers with money, and you get thirty percent," said Jorge Gonzales. Calvin looked over at his number one whore. Olivia nodded.

"Miss Ellison, I need to hear you say it," said Marcus Gonzales. He was after all secretly recording everything that was said. One could never trust gringos.

"Yes. I guess. Yes, we're good to go," she said, sealing her fate if she ever tried to doublecross them.

"We'd be obliged if you could send us our first prospects by the weekend. We have a lot of product to move, and we'd like to move it in fewer but larger chunks to unload it," said Jorge. Grayson nodded.

"We can do that. We have candidates already lined up. All are big ticket users who have been picking it up mostly on street corners. They are anxious to simplify their purchasing and reduce their exposure.

The two pushers looked at each other and smiled. "Your clients can be more than confident of our security measures. It's in our interest as well as theirs," said Marcus.

"That's it then," said Calvin. Olivia Ellison smiled, but nevertheless had some misgivings. Her Victor would kill her if he knew, He'd off Grayson first for sure, but she'd be right behind him. Selling herself for hot cocks had caused her little concern, but now, to make more money, big money, she was risking everything. She didn't feel right about any of it, but, they were committed now. It was clear that the Gonzales brothers were not forgiving types. Yes, they were committed, no use whining about it. She'd have to figure out a way to focus on the bright side: the big bucks that would inevitably be coming their way.

"Did you see how the one, that Marcus, looked at me?" said Olivia.

"Don't mind him. He fancies himself a ladies man. That could work for us at some point," said Grayson.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking you can blow it out your ass. I will never fuck either one of those guys, not while I'm alive," said Olivia. Grayson, just smirked. For the first time in their relationship, she began to question the wisdom of even knowing the guy let alone doing business with him. Jesus what a mess.

******

Preston had gotten it, and it wasn't good. She'd been abused by her crazy assed husband, Arnold Thornton, who'd used her and beaten her on numerous occasions. But, all such notwithstanding, she'd covered for the asshole when the police had finally come calling-not for the abuse as it happened-but for possession of drugs to distribute.

She'd been spared the worst of the possible punishments for aiding and abetting the scumbag, but she'd still been convicted and sentenced to three years for her involvement. That compared to the ten to twenty her erstwhile hubby was serving.

Now what to do. Caution to the winds: I made up my mind to see her; well, if she would see me. I made the hundred mile drive.

I watched as the guard ushered her and a dozen other inmates into the spacious hall. Steel tables with matching steel stools fixed to the floors dotted the place. A few children were in evidence accompanied by husbands and in a couple of cases likely grandmas. The object of my visit looked around trying to spot me. I'd spotted her the moment she'd come through the door: she'd been second in line.

When it became clear that she was having trouble spotting me, I raised my hand and waved. She saw me smiled, frowned, and gave me a tentative wave back. I motioned her to come to me; well, I had the table.

She covered the seventy or eighty feet in the best part of half a minute. It was clear she was nervous; her slow approach was evidence of that. I smiled encouragingly at her. She waved again when she finally came within greeting distance.

"Hi Victor," she said, breaking the ice.

"Hello beautiful. Please," I said, indicating the seat across from me.

"It's been a while," she said, ignoring my compliment which by the way she absolutely merited.

"It has that," I said, "Too damn long.

"Look, Carol-this place-your situation, I get it. I was only able to find you because I put a PI on it. To say I was shocked and upset and concerned; well, you can imagine. The details you can tell me about later, or never. But, I really needed to see you. I hope you don't mind," I said.

"Mind? No of course not.

"Victor, obviously this is more than humiliating for me. When the guard told me I had a visitor not on my list, you; well, I at first I told them no way. I didn't want to see you. But, then I thought, you already knew I was inside. So how much worse could it be," she said. "So, I told them to let you in."

"But, aren't you married?" she said. "I remember you and Olivia…"

"It's complicated. She and I are on the outs, sort of. She's been cheating on me forever, and now I am about to have her served, maybe, probably. So, anyway, you may ask what does any of that have to do with you?

"You remember the last time I saw you? You may recall I was sniffing your panties and we were about to get it on, but never did because she caught us?" I said.

"Yes, I remember," she said. She giggled.

"Well, I learned my lesson that day. Don't cheat, that was the lesson; and, I haven't in all of the years since that day in my youth when you and I almost did. But…

"When not long ago I caught her cheating, or thought I had, I confronted her. She threw up to me our almost indiscretion, and well, that's what made me think of you. I've been thinking of you ever since.

"You look good by the way, pretty as always," I said. She looked down.

"Thank you," she said. "You look good too, Victor."

"I hear we can share lunch with you folks here," I said.

"Yes," she said. "The food's not the best, but it's okay. Would you like to eat now?"

"Yes," I said. She guided me over to a wide archway that led into the adjacent cafeteria area which was almost as a large as the room we'd just left. We got into line and were served as a number of uniforms looked on.

Over the next hour and a half, we got reacquainted. She learned about me, and I about her and her husband, Arnold Thornton; well, as much as we could in the time allowed. The biggee? She had a son, Robby Thornton, him by her now imprisoned forever husband. As I was about to have to leave, she made the commitment to put me on her regular visitor list along with her parents, two brothers, and her lawyer, a certain Quentin Wilcox Jr.

******

In the days and weeks that followed my overhearing her on the phone, Olivia and I got along okay. She wasn't seeing anybody. Could she have somehow snuck in a liaison or two here and there? Maybe, but it would have been a challenge. Hence, I doubted it. Plus what she told that guy on the phone that day seemed to be exactly what she'd meant: she wasn't going to risk alienating me.

******

At the end of the month following my visit to see Carol in the state pen, I got a visit myself, a surprise visit, from one Calvin Grayson, my wife's pimp and sometime lover.

"Okay, Denise, I'll see the man," I said. Well, I was mega-curious. She ushered him in. The recorder was running, and I hoped to hell there was no snafu gonna foul it up.

Grayson was tall, maybe six-three, slim, sandy haired and arguably handsome. He took a seat in front of me without my saying it was okay, and smiled.

"Yes, do have a seat, Mr. Grayson," I said, putting my stamp of approval on the already accomplished fact. "What can I do for you?"

"No wasting of words or time, huh, Mr. Ellison?" he said. I ignored his remarks.

"Again, what can I do for you, Mr. Grayson? I'm a busy man," I said. He let loose a sigh.

"I came here to apologize," Mr. Ellison.

"Apologize?" I said.

"Yes, about our-my behavior-at Olivia's company party. I shouldn't have kept your wife so long. I hasten to add that what all we did was naught but innocent," he said. I had to wonder what it might be that qualified as naught but innocent in his view; well, knowing what I knew that is to say.

"All right. Anything else?" I said.

"Only that I would like to invite you and your wife to my home for a party. It's this coming Saturday evening. It's my wife's birthday and we're having a number of friends and associates come by and, well, it came to me that I might be able to make amends for my faux pas to some small degree if you'd be so kinda as to let me," he said. I looked him straight in the eye.

I was all but ready to summarily turn him down when a thought came to me. I decided that I wanted to meet Anita Grayson. And, a more perfect opportunity would be hard to imagine.

******

The backyard of the Grayson home was spacious and well shaded, a lucky circumstance given the warm day.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Ellison," said Calvin. I nodded. He tendered my wife a small smile and a nod.

"I-we-almost didn't come, but Olivia here thought it might be a good idea on some level so here we are," I said.

Yes, I had an ulterior motive, but laying the reason for our coming on my wife seemed a reasonable subterfuge.

"Well, again, thank you," he said. "Uh-if it would be good for you, I'd like to introduce you around." His offer was more or less a question.

"That would be nice," said Olivia. I shrugged my agreeableness. We toured the yard and talked with a number of folks none of whom I knew. But, at the end of the tour I'd met Mrs. Grayson, Anita Grayson: pretty, forty-something, and personable. I wondered if she suspected her husband's proclivities.

"So how are you doing Mr. Ellison, Mrs. Ellison," said Anita Grayson. She was smiling broadly and her eyes had a twinkle in them.

"We're fine, doing well," I said. "Nice party."

"Well thank you sir," she said.

"Victor and Olivia," I said, indicating my wife, who hadn't been inclined to say much so far.

"Okay, Victor and Olivia it is," she said. "You can call me Anita." I bowed theatrically to acknowledge her permission. Olivia smiled and nodded.

Just then Calvin, who had wandered off after steering us to his wife, returned and commandeered my wife. I smiled my permission.

"I have to say, I am surprised to see you here. I was pretty sure that if your wife came that you wouldn't," said Anita. I looked her askance.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, Calvin let me know about the problem you had with him relating to her company's party," she said. "The two of them, and especially my husband, were less than irresponsible in that regard. He has told me that he would like to make it right by you." I smiled, and nodded that I understood her.

I was dying to know if she knew what her hubby was involved in. Listening to her I had to believe that she didn't.

We talked a little longer, but then she abandoned me to take care of something in the house. I wandered about just checking things out.

As the night wore on, people loosened up and some dancing was added to the mix. I danced with my wife three times and with our hostess once.

"So how was she," said Livy.

"Who?" I said.

"Anita," she said.

"She's nice, and a good dancer," I said. "Why?"

"The reason for this party was partly Anita's birthday, but not the only reason," said my wife.

"Oh?" I said.

"No. Calvin wanted to have you meet the group and kinda see if you could see your way clear to become part of it," she said.

"Group? What group is that? A group that swings?" I said, taking a flyer. My wife actually snorted her laughter.

"Ding dong, you get the prize. Yes. And your inclination in that regard would be?" she said.

"I'd have to think about it," I said. I did not want her to be cued as to my real feelings for her favorite pimp or his group; hence, the verbal subterfuge.

The party was winding down when she came up to me. "So, Victor, I hope you had a good time," said Anita.

"It was very nice," I said.

"You know, I'm a pretty good judge of character and of people's intentions, Victor. I've noticed you taking stock tonight if that's the way to phrase it.

"You know what's going on don't you?" she said. Suddenly I was trapped. I was very much aware that this woman had me down pat. Trying to lie to her could backfire big time.

"Meaning?" I said.

"That my husband runs a call girl service and that your wife is one of his girls," she said. She said it so matter-of-factly that I had to believe that she had another agenda rather than to merely inform or question me.

I stared at her but remained silent. I honestly had no idea how to handle this woman.

"Don't fret, Victor; he doesn't know that I know. That said, I think that you and I need to compare notes at some point and that rather sooner than later," she said. I felt that I had to gamble.

"Okay," I said. "When and where?"

"So you do know then?" she said. I nodded.

"Barney's B&G;, lunchtime, Tuesday," she said.

"Okay," I said.

Well, at least I could tell Preston that Grayson's wife did know what was going on, but that loverboy didn't know she knew. Interesting. I'd have Preston staying on Grayson and his little operation a deal longer. Who knew, I might get real lucky, and regardless, the info would help me in any decisions I'd have to be making down the line.

******

"What do you think Amigo," said Jorge.

"About him or her," said Marcus Gonzales.

"Him? He's the one that wants in on this. I could tell she was not really into the deal," said Jorge.

"I think he's trustworthy and a total amateur. So, so long as he delivers we'll keep him on the payroll. His list of customers was impressive. I mean the lieutenant governor and the assistant to the mayor. Yes, we'll deal with Mr. Grayson so long as he delivers," said Marcus. His brother nodded.

"And if he doesn't," said Jorge.

"In that case he isn't going to like us very much," said Marcus, laughing. "Not very much at all." Jorge just smiled, but it was a sinister smile.

******

I wasn't actually stalking them, but I wanted to get a look at the boy, little Robbie. Well, and his grands too. I knew that they were likely doing a good job taking care of him, but I needed to see anyway. Why did I need to see? I had realized after I'd left Carol at the prison that I cared about her, and, by inference, little Robbie. None of my business regardless of course? But, I'd had to see for myself anyway.

Next time I was up at the prison I had it in mind to see if Carol would mind if I visited her parents and met the boy. Under other circumstances it might have been a no brainer, but with her inside and me still married, even if it turned out to be only technically; well, things were sure as hell complicated.

I saw the faded blue, thirty year old Datsun pull into the driveway of the even older rundown tract home. An elderly man get out: late seventies was my guess. He looked good for his age though maybe a little tired: Likely an athlete when he was younger. He went around to the other side of the car, and watched proudly as the little guy opened the door himself and was in the process of getting out. Grandma was nowhere in evidence. I drove off.

Okay, I'd seen him. What now. Well, nothing for the moment was the only possible answer. I could see the boy was in good hands. That was enough for me for now.

******

"Yes, I guess so," said Calvin Grayson. "Yes. It was a good idea for him to have come. I think it kind of humanized me. He still doesn't trust me, I know that, but I don't think he actually hates me anymore. Hell, girl, you tell me."

"He hasn't actually said anything about the party per se. And, you're right, he really doesn't much trust you or me either if it comes to that. But, sooner or later… " she said.

"You think he'll come around?"

"Maybe. He loves me. I don't think he'll mess us up, but we need to be more than careful just in case I'm wrong," she said. He nodded.

"Come here," he said, smiling. She smiled back at him.

"You wanna fuck me?" she said. "Wanna push your dick inside of me and make me scream? Is that what you're up to stud?"

"Can't fool you. You got me," he said.

"Strip," she said. He did as she commanded.

"Now, lay down on the bed while I undress," she said. "Just watch." He smiled his willing ness to comply with her orders.

Finally naked, she swung over his face and settled her butt onto it. His mouth was under her pussy and nose was all but smothered by her anus. She smelled like musk, female musk; he gloried in it as she ground herself more or less gently on his face.

Somehow his mouth found her clit and began to suckle it; she shuddered her appreciation of his efforts. She began a slow rocking motion that brought her to the edge and then over the top. She stiffened. Her juices, now smeared liberally on his face were testimony to the undeniable truth that she had made it.

She fell forward her face now rubbing desperately on his cock. She took hold of it and licked it and chewed on the foreskin. She guided him into her mouth and began to suck it. His turn to shudder at the maddening pleasure of her tongue swabbing his penis.

His back arched up straining to unload his store of semen. He shot his cream into her mouth and she swallowed it all. Licking him clean she began the campaign to raise the dead. It took a bit of time, but she got him hard once more.

She mounted him cowgirl and rode him wildly to his second cum in a span of fifteen minutes.

His cock was now a lifeless thing languidly resting on his pubis.

"Good 'ole Victor get you off like that?" he said.

"Of course not. Victor has never gotten me off with his dick; you know that; that's why you're here. You didn't think it was because of your outstanding good looks did you?" she said.

His laugh was infectious; she joined him.

"You really should teach that man of yours how to do you," said Calvin.

"His dick is too average to really do me up right. He can do oral, but even there he's only-again-average. It's like doing it tires him out; he just hasn't got as lick of stamina. More's the pity," she said.

"Well, just don't let him ever know what you think of him. That would not be good," said Calvin.

******

I was on the list and the guard ushered me right into the common area. It was the same one as before, but without the waiting forever to get approved.

She was in the middle of the pack this time, but she saw me almost immediately and sidled on over to me. I stood and greeted her. She took her seat.

"It is so good to see you, Victor. I really have been looking forward to seeing you again," she said.

"Good, okay," I said. We got the small talk out of the way and a period of silence ensued. I broke the spell.

"Carol, I have to say I am so glad to see you too. I know it's not the best of circumstances. I would do anything to get you outta here if I could, but at least for now I'll take what I can get," I said.

"Victor, can I ask? Why are you here really? Yes, your wife mentioned my name, I get it, but the way you are talking you plan to maybe grow old with her; so, why hang out with a con like me?"

"Truth, Carol? I'm not sure. I had feelings for you once, and well, I think I still do. The fact that you're here is a problem, but not an insoluble one. And, my wife has pretty much destroyed our marriage. I am in the process of divorcing her. I haven't had her served yet, but it's more likely to happen than not.

"My wife is a pro, a prostitute, Carol. I found out about it just recently. Could she and I overcome something like that? I won't kid you. It is remotely possible. But, as each day passes it becomes less likely. There's more, but that's the biggee as far as I'm concerned," I said.

"Wow," she said. She seemed to shiver, no, squirm.

"Victor, and if you do divorce her then what," said Carol.

"Not sure. Try and pick up the pieces of my life. Start over. I don't know." She nodded.

"Victor I will be getting out of here one of these days. Another year maybe. Good behavior and the crowded conditions here could make it happen even sooner, not sure. Anyway, that's what I was told. It may not happen, but it looks like it might," she said. I gazed into her eyes not sure what I was thinking or just how to react to her words. She still technically had two years plus to serve. If she were able to get that reduced, how would that affect my plans? Plans, in actuality that I didn't even have completely formulated yet.

"Early release? Really? My God that would be great news," I said. Now I was the one squirming. She seemed to relax at the instance of my apparent enthusiasm.

"Yes, it is. Anyway, I have my fingers crossed," she said.

"If-when-it happens can I be the one to pick you up," I said. "I mean I know your parents… " She nodded vigorously. I was feeling really good.

"Carol, I'm going to ask you a favor that you might want to consider."

"A favor?" she said. I slowly nodded, not sure how to present my thoughts. I sure as hell didn't want to seem pushy or arrogant either one; but how to avoid it…"

"Victor?" she said, interrupting my self-interrupted thought processes.

"Carol, if you'd allow, I would be very much grateful if you would let me help you with your son Robbie. And, yes, I do mean financially. I have the bucks, and I'm sure that your parents could use the help. I mean…"

"You want to help Robbie? Me? Financially?" she said.

"In a word, yes," I said. She studied me.

"I won't kid you, Victor, my parents could use the help; they're not rich, and things have been tough. But, all in all, sir you hardly know me; I mean the 'me' of this part of my life. And, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a criminal serving time as punishment for my offenses," she said.

"Carol, I do know you. You chose badly marrying Thornton; and I'm sure there's a story behind that particular choice. But, I do know you, the real you. True it's been years gone now, but I knew you then and I feel that you will be that same girl again when you do get out of this awful place," I said.

"I could hope for as much. And, yes, I married mister Thornton because he knocked me up and, well, you can guess the rest," she said. I nodded.

"Permission then?" I said.

"Okay, I will inform my parents when they visit later today. So yes. And, I want you to know I will be very grateful for your help, as will they I am sure.

So just like that I had an obligation to help an old friend with something that was of more than major importance to her: her son.

******

It was Tuesday, and I was sitting at a table near the patio fence at Barney's B&G; waiting for the wife of my target. A man approached me. He was dressed in a shabby blue suit. He smiled as he approached.

"Sir, are you Victor Ellison?" he said. I looked him askance.

"Yes, Yes, I am," I said.

"Sir, you are served," he said. He handed me a manila envelope and departed without another word. Of course I knew what it was, or was pretty sure I did.

I opened the package and sure enough, she was divorcing me. I suddenly felt weird. On the one hand I felt a kind of relief. On yet another hand I felt a level of sadness. Then, my thoughts turned to my wife and her paramour, if that's what he was, and then to Carol and her situation, and then to all of the happenings of the past days and weeks. Finally, my thoughts turned to what might have been her possible motivation. Well, whatever it was, it was going to be changing my plans yet again.

I called Preston right away. Ducks in a row. I hadn't done much in that direction until now, but now I had the motivation.

"Hi, sailor," said the lilting voice behind me. I jumped.

"Anita, you surprised me," I said.

"Sorry, didn't mean to," she said. "You look pensive; something wrong?"

"Depends on how you look at it I suppose," I said.

"Huh?"

"My wife just served me with divorce papers, kinda surprised me," I said. She gave me a look. I snickered.

"I can imagine," she said. "So whaddya gonna do?"

"See a lawyer in theam I suppose," I said. She nodded.

"If it's okay with you, maybe we could use the same lawyer. I've decided to dump the asshole I'm married to," she said.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, he's into something that he's afraid to tell me about; I mean apart from his little escort enterprise, and I do not intend to be collateral damage to any of his machinations. Not now, not ever."

"Well yes then, sure, not problem," I said. "And, I think I have the right lawyer in mind. I'll let you know within a day or two if that would be all right."

"Sure bet," she said.

We talked for some little time. In the end I made the call to Preston. Told him of Anita's suspicions, and asked him to find out what he could. He said he would.

******

I knocked a few times and heard the footsteps of someone coming to the door. The man stared at me for a moment then smiled a greeting.

"You must be Mr. Ellison, said the man. Carol told us to expect you. We don't get too many visitors. Nice to meet you," he said. I smiled too, mainly because I hadn't even confirmed my identity to that point. I remedied that now.

"Yes, sir, that's so. I am Victor Ellison," I said.

"Well come in, come in," He said.

******

Denise didn't even bother to alert me. He'd just walked in. "She just waved me in," he said. "Am I the only one so privileged?" said Preston Scott.

"Yes, you are. I take it you have info on our good buddy Grayson," I said.

"Oh yeah I do," he said. "Big news. He's still pimping her out, and he may be into some other really bad stuff, don't know if she is, but it figures that she is."

"Big stuff?" I said. He saw my concerned look and nodded.

"Real bad stuff, Victor. He's talking to a couple of big time drug distributors and they don't work for Johnson and Johnson if you get my drift. And they're not into drugs only, but gun running and likely human trafficking-read white slavery. Like I said, I don't know if your wife's in the know about it or part of it; but, Victor, you need to be prepared. And, you need to decide if you really want to bring her down. Because…"

"Yeah, I get it. Because if she in on it with him she will be going away for a long time. It's a zero tolerance state," I said.

"Yes," he said, "and more, Victor, it's federal shit and they, the feds, are more than unforgiving. Victor it's the Gonzales brothers. They'll kill her if they think she's a danger to them. I don't know what this Grayson guy was thinking or if he was thinking, but he is either exceptionally greedy or exceptionally stupid, and it's more than possible that he's both.

"I know you're down on Olivia right now and with good reason; but-that down on her? Anyway, let me know your pleasure," he said. I nodded.

"I will," I said. "I will." That I didn't give him the go ahead to bring them down at that moment I suppose said something about my feelings for her. She was in on it, Grayson's stupid act; I was sure of it. There was no getting around it; she was too close to the guy. I was pretty sure he wasn't fucking her, but I almost wish she were that instead of this. Jesus, what a mess. I did make up my mind about one thing. I was going to pin her about it. I had to. I would never forgive myself if I didn't try to steer her away from that asshole, that stupid asshole!

******

I was more than anxious to see her, and that on several levels. She was first in line this time. Her smile was a mile wide which fact improved my own good humor.

"Victor," she started without so much as a hello. "Dad told me what you've done, Victor I am so grateful to you. My Robbie… " she started to cry. "I mean fifty thousand dollars!"

"Carol, I wanted to do it. You did me a favor allowing me to see Robbie, and your parents of course. While you're in this place I will do what I can to protect you and yours; I promise you that," I said.

"Victor-I-I-someday I will make it up to you. I promise you that," she said.

"Enough, okay?" I said. "I'm not a poor man, Carol, I can afford it. It's done and there is no need to continue to dwell on it."

"I sure do wish you were married to me instead of Olivia, but what is, is, I guess," she said. She'd said the magic words.

"You really feel that way, Carol?" I said.

"You have no idea," she said. "And yes, absolutely. Of course I feel that way. A guy like you? I don't know what Olivia could be thinking, but she's gotta be nuts. If you…"

"Never mind, girl, when the day comes that we can be more to each other than we are now; well, let's just say that we will play it by ear," I said. She nodded, but it was a nod with a smile. And, then she cried.

I hadn't mentioned my wife's divorce action to her. I wanted to talk to Olivia first, but I would be telling her as soon as I was sure of everything. Then I got a call.

******

"Victor?" said the choked up voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello? Livy?" I said in answer. "I got your papers. I will be responding in a few days."

"Victor, I need you," she said. She was crying full out now.

"Livy? What the matter?" I said.

"Victor. I'm in jail. I need you-bad" she said.

"What! Jail! What!" I said. I started getting my thoughts all in a row.

"Grayson?" I said. It had to be.

"Not just him. Me and him. I've been bad, Victor, and very wrong. And stupid too. Please, Victor, help this girl; I beg of you, on my knees I beg of you," she said.

"Okay, okay," I said. "Where are you being held?" she spent a couple of minutes giving me the particulars with me grunting at appropriate intervals to demonstrate my understanding. "Okay, I will be down as fast as I can." It was odd that she'd not said word one about her divorce action.

After hanging up, I noted a couple of things. First off, she'd essentially thrown herself under the same bus as her buddy, Grayson; one has to admire loyalty misplaced or not. Secondly, at no time did she indicate her undying love for me; but well, she was divorcing me. What she did do was express her trust in me that I would be there for her no matter what. On that score she was essentially right on.

I had loved her too long and too completely for it to be any other way regardless of what the BTB crew and the hate mongers would have understood or believed. And, yes, I completely realize, that my thinking, in the light of the current reality was completely at odds with my previous plans to bring them down. Incongruous, yeah-so the fuck what."

I called Mr. Wilcox, Carol's attorney. I'd not met with him yet, but Carol had given me the skinny on who he was and that she trusted him. I asked him to meet me at the county lockup.

An hour later Wilcox and myself were waiting in a private room with very thick and heavy doors. She was led in.

The guard was in the room with us. It was a requirement since only her lawyer could have private conferences with her at this point.

Over the next half hour she gave up the particulars of what she'd done, been involved with, the Gonzalez brothers: the lot of it. I noted the guard acting a little uncomfortably when the Gonzalez family was mentioned.

She finally brought up the divorce. "Victor," she said, finally, "I sent you those divorce papers because I didn't want you mixed up in the stuff I was mixed up in. I've done you so wrong that I just couldn't do you wrong anymore. I hope you understand." I nodded. And I did believe her.

Wilcox asked to speak with his new client alone. Both the guard and myself left.

They were in there alone for the next half hour. At length the two of them did emerge.

The guard led my wife down the hall and away from me. I nodded to her and she mouthed the word please to me several times. I would do my best: I realized that I had to; She'd been the love of my life. I just hoped I could do enough. I didn't want her in that place in spite of everything.

The trial came up per short date. She'd been inside the county lockup for some two months plus. She could have gotten bail; I offered it. But, I'd been talked out of it by Wilcox. He, in consultation with the D.A, saw a real danger in her being out and about until the Gonzales brothers were out of circulation because they had made bail: Livy had turned state's evidence.

Grayson, numb scull that he was, refused to testify against the brothers. His decision was made either out of fear to do so or out of misplaced loyalty to scumbags like the brothers.

When all was said and done, Grayson got ten years for intent to distribute. The brothers got twenty for a long list of misdeeds. Livy got three, and with good behavior looked to make parole in eighteen months.

I visited her while she was in county. She knew our marriage was toast. I let her know that I knew about her selling herself for money. She cried for the entire hour I was with her. Hell, truth told I did to. But, she also knew I wouldn't abandon her in her hour of need. I guess when it came down to it, there was no way I could hurt her no matter what she'd done to me. It was what it was.

******

Carol had told me that Wilcox was the best lawyer in the state. I'd taken her word for it. But, now I was going to test her theory. I made the call.

The meet up was at Barney's; I'd kinda made that my main hangout in recent times. I saw him enter and wave to me. I waved back as he almost sauntered over to me; not a mean feat for an older out of shape law dog.

"Hello, mister Ellison," said Quentin Wilcox. "Got your message. Said it was urgent?"

"Well, yes, kinda," I said. "Carol told me you could work miracles. I would like to hire you to work one for a friend," I said. He looked me askance.

"Miracles? Truth told, I'm still having trouble with the water into wine thing. But, most other things are usually workable," he said, without so much as cracking a smile, though I did.

"It's my ex-wife," I said. "She was busted for possession to distribute. Turned states and got a reduced sentence, three years."

"Okay?" he said. "And?"

"Well, she's currently at state prison in Hartsville," I said.

"Okay, medium security. Not a nice place, but not real bad," he said.

"Can you get her transferred to Kearny? You know where Carol currently is at," I said. He rocked back in the deck chair that served the patio area at Barney's.

"You say she turned state's evidence?" he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said. I nodded.

"Last I heard you were going to bring her and her lover down if I had it right? Carol kinda told me some stuff," he said.

"Well, yes, but her and her friend, and he wasn't her lover exactly, managed to do it to themselves," I said. He smiled.

"I don't even have to ask. They were trying to make the fast buck, right?" he said.

"I guess you could make a case for that," I said.

"Mister Ellison, I have to tell you, I don't usually go out of my way for dealers and sellers of drugs. Illegal pharmacists are the bane of modern society. But, for you, I'm inclined to make an exception. That because you are a friend of my favorite client," he said. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." I handed him what I considered a reasonable retainer. I had confidence that he could do it. It would be three weeks before I heard from Mr. Wilcox. The news was good.

"Send him in Denise," I said. My secretary extraordinaire ushered him in.

******

"Does that smile indicate success?" I said. The law dog plopped down in the seat across from my desk.

"Yes," he said. "She's being transported as we speak. "You know, I'm sure that the two of them will meet at some point. Can I enquire, how are you planning to handle that?" I smiled.

"Truthfully, not sure, but I will handle it. I've got a little something going with Carol, and if she's amenable, well…"

"Oh, I think she's going to be amenable all right," said Quentin Wilcox. I looked up.

"She said something to you?" I said.

"Uh-huh," he said. "You've got a lock if you don't hurt her. She's been hurt a lot. She really does not trust men all that much anymore. You seem to the exception to that little codicil, however." I nodded, slowly, but I nodded. I had decisions to make-final decisions.

******

I arrived at Kearny just as they opened up the gate for the visitors to file in. I spotted a table that was more or less shaded from the direct sunlight; I seized it.

The wait was less than ten minutes before she spotted me, Olivia spotted me. She gave me a look and headed for me?

"Victor?" she said, coming up to me.

"Hello, Livy. You okay?" I said.

"Yeah, I caught a break. First time offender. I got transferred her," she said. "Beats state by a mile, several miles actually," she said. "I'm surprised to see you. Did I miss something in our last conversation?"

"No, actually, I'm here…"

"Hi stud," said Carol joining us.

"Carol? Carol Radcliff!" said Olivia.

"Thornton, Hasn't been Radcliff for a long time," she said. "But, yes it's me, and it's Thornton though hopefully not for long." Olivia gave her a look.

"I didn't know you were here," started Olivia.

"No way you would have; you're new and you are still pretty much cloistered with the other newbies. We'll be seeing each other more as time goes on," said Carol.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. You two… " started Olivia

"Yes, I'm here to see Carol, Livy. We've kinda got a thing going. We're in the beginning stages, but anyway… " I said.

"Oh, I see. Sorry, didn't mean to… " and she turned and strode off. I could see her shoulders heaving. She was sobbing as she almost ran from us-me."

"Does she know you're the one who got her over here from state?" said Carol.

"No, I don't think so. She was led to believe that she was transferred because of crowded conditions at state and the fact that she was a first time offender. So, again, no," I said. She nodded.

I drove home slowly. I wondered if sticking my nose into my ex's case was a mistake. But no, I knew it wasn't, not for me. I had to help her if I could, and it had turned out that I could, so I did. She'd only been in state prison for three months. But I was pretty sure that that was more than long enough to appreciate the difference between those confines and Kearny.

And then there was Carol. I had kept my feelings for her more or less under control until now. The electricity between us was easily discernible. I needed that woman, as I know realized. Up to now we'd been what-sparring-now it was time to take the relationship to the next level. I had to start the campaign to win her for real as soon as I could. I would be talking to her on next visiting day: seriously talking to her.

******

This one I was more than sure about. I don't know what the hold of this guy was over Olivia, but it was going to end. When she got out, there would be no visits to her former mentor, no longing for the old promiscuous lifestyle. No, she had to turn it around. She had to get him and his out of her system. Why did I give a damn: stupid question.

I loved the woman. Her betrayal and her arrogance about it finished us, but thoughts of her and me over morning coffee talking about nothing and everything. The good sex when we had it, especially in the early days, sealed my feelings for her in positive ways. There were other things, things that we'd shared before me becoming knowledgeable as to her-and Grayson's-perfidy. I cared for her. I cared for her to the extent that I wanted her to have a fresh start. She'd be a couple of years getting it, but I wanted her to have it; I badly wanted her to have it.

He was led into the common area and I saw him smirk as he saw me and come over.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the ex-husband," he said. "May I ask what has prompted this totally unexpected visit?"

"To tell you the truth, Grayson, I'm not sure. No, that's not true, I do know what prompted it; I just don't know what reason I had to hope that it would do any good," I said. He gave me a strange look, not a smirk. He seemed confused.

"Okay," he said, evenly.

"You ruined her life, Grayson. You know that," I said.

"She's a big girl. She made her own decisions."

"Yeah, with a lot of coaching from you. You ruined my life too, my life with her," I said.

"If you're talking about the sex stuff, you could've, should've, joined us. We wanted you to, especially her. You were just too puritanical to get it. You'd have loved it, really," he said.

"No, no I wouldn't have," I said. "But, it was more than just the prostitution. The drugs and the bad elements that you mixed her up with, those were biggees."

"All ancient history now," said Grayson. "You here just to cast stones?"

"No. When she gets out, I do not want her to see you, or if she tries, for you to refuse to see her. She needs to start over, to get away from what was," I said.

He smiled. Like I said before, she's an adult. She'll be making her own decisions. If she comes by, I will see her. I want to see her," he said. "Hell, I want to marry her myself," he said.

"Thought you were gay?" I said.

"Bi," he said.

"Then you leave me no choice. I'm going to be turning over some stuff to the D.A. that I've got. If I work it right, you will never be getting out. The evidence I have is only suggestive of your involvement with the Gonzales brothers' heavy stuff, and I'm not talking about drugs, Grayson; I'm talking about human trafficking. And I'm pretty sure the FBI can add more to it if they have a reason to look. Could you skate even if I give them what I know? Maybe. But then you'd have the gang to worry about. That said…

"You stay away from Olivia and the evidence stays out of sight gathering dust," I said. "It's that simple." His look had shifted from confident arrogance to thoughtful concern.

"You'd best not be doing anything reckless. I do have friends on the outside," he said.

"Ah, the last refuge of the desperate bad guy, threats," I said. "I've said what I came to say. Don't test me, Grayson; I never bluff." I stood, stared at him for a few seconds trying to gauge the effectiveness of my pitch. He was impassive, but his arrogance was gone. I was pretty sure I'd made an impact.

******

It was sixteen months into Olivia's sentence and nineteen months into Carol's and they, along with 116 others got the good news: unconditional release!

"I got the call at ten in the morning. I was actually with a client. I finished up with him and was on the road without even so much as going home to change out of my suit.

I was waiting outside the gate when they exited. Yes, they, Carol and Olivia were released at the same time. They saw me and came to me. I was leaning back against the car door with a smile on my face, a broad as all outdoors smile.

"Okay if we give Olivia a ride, Victor," said Carol.

"Of course, a no brainer," I said.

We were ten miles down the road when she, Carol, laid it on me. "Victor," she said.

"What?" I said. "Her tone of voice concerned me a little.

"Livy, will need some help too for the short haul. Do you think she could stay with us for a while?" said Carol. I relaxed.

"Sure, no problem. Livy, you're welcome at our place any time. But, your former business…"

"Victor, I will only be handling household interiors from now on. Well, if I can get my job back," she said. She lost it, her job, of course when she went inside. But, I had an idea about that.

I knew some people that I did taxes for that could be persuaded to hire a very beautiful sales agent who knew the ropes of interior decorating. And, the two guys I was thinking of did the industrial stuff not just the home and gardens thing that Livy had been involved with till her arrest.

******

Carol and I were married not a month after her getting out. Robbie was adopted by me and we settled into a lifestyle that most folks would envy. And the sex-primo.

Livy stayed with us for some three months. I was able to engineer a job for her that paid her three times what she'd made at Homestead. A year later she fell in love with one of the guys who'd hired her. She would be all right.

"I was sitting in my usual spot at my usual hangout, Barney's B&G;, when she plopped into a seat across from me.

"Well handsome, I found out something today that makes me wonder just how big an idiot I was to play around on you," said Livy.

"Olivia, what the heck?" I said.

"I hear you were the one that got me transferred from state to Kearny. That so?" she said.

"Water under the bridge, Liv, ancient history. Forget it," I said.

"You have no idea how bad state prison was, Victor. So, I will not forget it. AI had treated you so badly, and you still went to bat for me. I have no words," she said.

"Olivia, I can't explain it. I loved you. Still do on some level. I couldn't let you rot. I had to do something, and it was little enough."

"All I can say, stud, is that you had my back. If you ever need someone to have yours, I'm there. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," I said. I saw Carol in the doorway eyeing us. I waved her over. She came.

"You the one who told her?" I said. Sure that she was.

"Yes, so sue me," she said.

"Well, you two, I will leave you to your own devices. I have a date with my intended," said Olivia.

"So, woman, did you say sue you or screw you?" I said. She punched me in the arm.

"Hey, that hurt," I said, not quite laughing out loud.

"Tough deal with it," she said. And, then she was kissing me. Helluva note.

-----------------------------

   Series:Quinn and Kimberly Harris
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:The betrayal was total and held forth disastrous consequences for all concerned. But...
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/75709/quinn-and-kimberly-harris
Published:2014-01-24
She stared at me across the little table. She looked intense—no—determined.

"I'm sorry Quinn, but I have fallen in love with Henry. Neither he nor I planned it, expected it; she looked away as she said this last, and then back at him. "It just happened. Please try and understand," she said. "And—I've already moved in with him."

"Understand? It looks pretty straight forward to me, Kimberly. You've been fucking my brother, and now you're dumping me and damn the consequences," I said. "And where's Sam? She should be here; it's 5:30."

"She's at the house her—uh—uncle Henry's house. I needed to be alone with you to settle things. Quinn, both he and I know that this is going to be a tough nut for the family. We couldn't, wouldn't, do it while your mom and dad were alive, I mean you know, but… " she started.

"But his brother, cousins, aunts, uncles et cetera are less meaningful, less of a problem for him to do without if it came to that. That about it?" I said.

"It doesn't have to be that way, Quinn. You're a good looking guy. Once you find another woman, the way we figure it, things will calm down and everything will be okay. Henry is sure of it. Unless…"

"Unless what, Kimberly? Unless I make waves? Is that what you were going to say. You need me to put my okay on your plans, what, for the good of the family. That about it?" I said.

"It would make things a lot easier on everybody, Quinn, not just me and Henry," she said. "I think you can see that."

"And what about Samantha? What about custody. You going to give me custody; I mean physical custody? Or, am I to be denied there too," I said. "Because if that's your plan then we go to war."

"Heavens no! You're not going to be denied seeing or being with Sam. I thought, well, I thought, joint and equal custody. She'd be staying with us during the school year. You'd have her summers and one weekend every month. Ideally we'd still be together sharing all of the major holidays; I mean we'd all be there together like always," she said.

"Hmm. How about I get her during the school year 'and' summers; and you get her one weekend a month," I said. Okay, I was testing the waters. Samantha, our fourteen year-old daughter was everything to me. Being a part time dad was not going to fly, not even.

"Quinn, please, I'm willing to go a long way, compromise, but she would be better off with us during the school year because I will be there twenty-four-seven. You have to work. It just makes sense that during the school year she'd be with us.

"I won't be asking for anything in the divorce, not the house, nothing but my clothes and personal stuff. Really Quinn, you'll have your freedom, and we can still be a family. I mean we do have a beautiful daughter together," she said.

"Yes, we do, but it's also more than clear that Sam being our daughter is not enough to keep us together as a family. I've given you my answer. It's all or nothing. I get primary year 'round physical custody of Sam; you two cheaters get each other and Sam one weekend a month.

"Oh, and while it's true that I work; I also get off every day 5:00; caring for her won't be a problem," I said. I could see she was becoming frustrated—no—irritated with my intransigence. And, I was becoming intransigent

"Quinn, I didn't want to go this route, but if I can't get you to be reasonable; well, the family will be hurt, and we—I—will go to war. It doesn't have to be that way, Quinn," she said. I changed topics—for the moment.

"What was it, Kim? His money, is that why you're dumping me?" I said. "He's rich and I'm not. Is that the reason?" I said.

"No! Quinn, really. It has nothing to do with money," she said. "It's—I fell in love with him that's all. And, Quinn, if it matters, I still have feelings for you too. It's just that… " She seemed to run out of words.

"You know, Sam's fourteen. She might get to choose. Wanna go that route, Kimberly, Wanna leave it up to her? You know to choose your plan or mine?" I said. "Does she know that you've been doing her uncle?"

"Quinn, we can't be putting that kind of pressure on a kid our kid."

"Oh, but you can dump her dad, keep her with you most of the time, and expect her, let alone me, to just accept it!

"And, yes, what about me? You actually expected me to be all right with what you've laid out here today? I mean as regards my baby!" I said.

"All right with it? No. But maybe understanding and willing to work with me and Henry to make things as painless as might be," she said.

"Let me lay it out for you the way, the only way, I will sit still for you doing this to me," I said. "I might be willing to do my best to minimize the fallout in terms of the family. Even go so far as to be in the same place as you and my asshole brother on holidays without throwing my beer in his face. But that will be happening only if I get primary and year 'round physical custody of Sam. Are you with me here Kimberly Harris?" She nodded, slowly, but now I could see steel in her eyes.

"Okay, it's going to be hard, but I guess we're going to have to go to war," she said. "I know I've shocked and hurt you, but even given that, what you're asking is unreasonable and too much."

"Bring it on soon to be ex-wife and let slip the dogs of war," I said. "I am not going to let that asshole ex-brother of mine become the daddy of my baby, not willingly"

"Is that what you think? That Henry would be taking your place?" she said

"And why wouldn't I? He's already taking my place in your bed," I said.

"Frankly, Quinn, I don't know how you could even imagine that he'd try to take your place with Sam; it's not even remotely logical," she said.

"You're kidding right. I mean you actually said that. I mean, again, in view of the fact that he's taking my place with you and fucking you behind my back?" she was beginning to look angry.

"Okay, okay then, Quinn, I guess we have ourselves a war. I was hoping that at some point you and he—but I guess that was just wishful thinking. Now, a lot of people are going to be hurt," she said.

"Instead of just me, you mean! I mean if I accepted your stinking offer I'd be the only one to be hurt, right? You're putting all of this on me! You know, I no longer care about you now that I've come to understand exactly what you are. I actually hate you. But Sam! I want custody, physical custody, year 'round. And as for my traitorous brother? I no longer have a brother, not in any sense whatsoever; he's dead to me, and unmourned," I said. "Tell him that"

"Jesus, Quinn, I am so sorry for all of this. If there is any way that… " she started.

"There isn't. You brokered yourself and the asshole a war," I said. She was about to cry or spit or something. At any rate, she stood, turned, picked up her coat and bag, and left.

******

Her naked legs stuck straight up into the air while she pressed hard against the broad shoulders of her lover.

Henry Harris, six three, two-thirty, age thirty-eight, new car salesman and millionaire, hammered his brother's wife with everything he had.

"Ugh-ugh-ugh! She grunted as he pounded into her. His own breath was a series of staccato noises bearing witness to the intensity of his efforts. He stiffened, gave one final pile driving thrust into the pretty woman beneath him and unloaded his sperm.

He rolled off of her gasping for breath. Kimberly Harris, only slightly less breathless herself, let her eyes turn languidly toward those of her lover.

"That was good, even better than usual," she said. "Hope you've got another one in you tonight?"

"Give me a moment to recover, beautiful. I'll get you off again for sure," he said. She laughed.

******

She'd set the hot teas down on the carved Hickory dinette table, that served as the usual meeting place at the Henry Harris homestead, and looked over at him.

"You say he hates me," said Henry.

"Pretty much. Will he mellow out down the road? That's doubtful, iffy at best. But, maybe given time, I just don't know. But in the short run? No," she said.

"You couldn't even get him to lighten up in terms of how he deals with us vis a vis the extended family?" said Henry.

"No, he wants year 'round physical custody of Sam. I couldn't compromise that much. I understand his feelings, but he wanted too much, just too damn much!" said Kimberly. "I initially I offered him summers and the one weekend each month. But, he spurned that, and then I got 'my' back up. So I guess we're at war."

"But, you're sure he has no inkling… " he stopped in mid-sentence.

"No, and neither does she for now. And, I hope they never do," she said.

"Hmm, yes," said Henry. "But, maybe you should have given in to him."

"Huh!" she said. "Never!"

"Think about it. Sam would be over to our place a lot anyway, way more than one weekend a month. And over time, well, anything can happen. And he's right about her being almost old enough to choose. So you, we'll, be taking a risk going to court, a small one, but a real one unless we play our hole card, and at this stage of the game that would not be useful.

"I'm betting, as time passes, daddy would have been looking more and more like the bad guy, and we'd end up getting de facto primary custody by default. And, when that happened we'd be gracious enough to allow him to rejoin us and Sam and get back on track as a family. I know the guy. Family is everything to him," said Henry.

"I don't know, to be without my baby for any length of time… " said Kim. "No, he asked for too much." He nodded.

"Okay. The test, the real test, will come in three months' time, the Fourth of July. The whole family will be at Rodgers State Park. Aunt Millie has already gotten official sanction for the use of the large pavilion. Every relative we've got west of the Rockies will be there," he said.

"Yes, I know. I helped make the arrangements," she said.

"I just hope he doesn't deliberately mess us up with the family, make a disaster out of the holiday. It's gonna be tough for sure no matter what," said Henry. She nodded.

"Yes, for sure," she said. "But, now we have to be talking to that lawyer friend of yours. You say he's sure we can get us custody, even year 'round custody."

"Yes, well, ninety percent sure. The judge will ask Samantha what she wants, would like; but, in the end, it will be what's best for her: that'll be us," he said.

"If Quinn's right, and we get physical custody year 'round, he's going to be totally intractable. I'm afraid that his hate for us will know no bounds," she said. "I'm almost afraid to go that route, but he is so stubborn… " she said.

"I hear yuh," he said.

"And, if Sam were to voluntarily opt to be with me—us—well, I want her to. But, that would be a serious crusher for him." His turn to nod.

"But, like you say, it is his own fault," he said.

******

She'd, my soon to be ex-wife, managed to get temporary custody of Samantha pending the court hearing; and, here we were, finally, in court, not a month after she dumped me. The cheaters with their lawyer, Curtis Dodd, were at the table across from me and my lawyer, Abe Maxwell. Sam was in chambers with the judge.

We'd laid out or case, as had the cheaters, and now it was up to judge Colson.

Kimberly had gone for the juggler demanding year 'round custody while offering me one weekend a month unrestricted visitation; the same as I'd told her I wanted. She had, I hasten to add, at least kept her word about the house, but I didn't give a damn about that; I wanted custody of my baby.

My ex kept looking over at me. She seemed—what—maybe apologetic, sympathetic. Well, I would be pitying her when Sam chose to stay with me.

And my traitorous brother? He never looked in my direction, not even once. Guilt ridden no doubt, I thought.

The marshall, I guess that's what he was, he had a badge, called us to order and the judge took his seat on his throne at the head of the table. Samantha was led out to the hallway by a female aide to await the verdict.

"Mister Harris, Missus Harris, I have heard the arguments, and I have spoken to the child. I have to say, Missus Harris, that this is an unusual if not an absolutely unheard of case of adultery and family dysfunction. But, that said, there is no law that specifically forbids adultery, as reprehensible as it may be. So…

"The divorce petition tendered me by your lawyer is hereby ordered to be enforced.

"So, after a period of some four months, without any amelioration of the situation as it stands, The two of you mister Harris, Missus Harris, will in fact no longer be husband and wife.

"Finally, as for the single bone of contention between the two of you, custody of your daughter; and, bearing in mind that neither party has been open to compromise on the issue. I have, again, after consulting with Samantha, made my decision.

"Samantha will continue to reside, as per her request, with her mother.

"I should add that, though Samantha has chosen to reside with her mother, mister Harris; she has expressed her unreserved love for you and hopes you will understand her choice.

"You will of course have one weekend a month visitation which I hereby order shall be unrestricted.

"Divorce… " droned on the judge. I wasn't hearing him. I could feel my face flush with hurt and humiliation and fear and hate at my defeat.

My lawyer was talking to me. "Quinn, I've seen stuff like this before. You are going to be having Samantha way more than one weekend a month, believe me." I barely heard him. I rose while the judge was still spouting his platitudes and slowly made my way out of the courtroom. No one tried to stop me.

Then I was in the corridor. Samantha came to me and hugged me. I did not hug her back. The cheaters came out and looked at me and my daughter. My arms were hanging at my sides while Samantha disengaged herself from me. She'd been talking, saying something, but I didn't hear any of it. I felt strange.

Kimberly, my ex-wife, came to me. "Quinn, it'll be okay. We will allow any visitation you want. I am so sorry it had to be this way," she said. "Sam can come to your house whenever you like. Okay?" she said.

I looked at her with knitted brows. "No. You win. I lost. I'm gone," I whispered. Samantha had retreated to her uncle who held her hand. I glanced over at him with the purest of hatreds clouding my face I was sure, cold, studied hatred.

"Quinn, do you hear me. Do you understand? We can make this work, Quinn, but you have to give an inch. Please, Quinn," she said.

"No, you win, I lose," I said. I turned and walked slowly away from them. None of the trio tried to follow me or say anything else.

******

She watched as her daughter literally ran upstairs.

"That was tough. I wish that the judge hadn't mentioned that she'd 'chosen' to stay with us. But, it is what it is. You know, it's going to be harder for her even than for him," said Kimberly.

"I think you're right," said Henry.

"We need to not pressure her for the next little time. She needs to find her place psychologically. No matter which way she would have chosen to go, it would have been the same. Divorce is always hardest on the kids, always," she said. "I mean, what's in it for them besides insecurity and confusion?"

"I'm sure that all of that's true," he said. "But, at some point she will have to come out of her shell and get on with things. She's our kid now, not just his and yours."

"The judge gave him the second weekend of the month and alternating holidays every year," she said. "But it isn't going to be near enough for him especially since she expressed a preference to be with me, and by inference you too."

"Yes, I know. It's got to be killing him. He's my brother, even if I'm not his anymore. I gotta figure out a way to get us back together at least on speaking terms. But, damned if I have any ideas at the moment," he said.

******

I was settled into some new digs and stared at the street below. I'd moved out of the house: too many memories. My new place was a two bedroom walkup close to the shop. It was small, but warm and a good place for thinking. It seemed like all of my time not spent working was taken up thinking about the two of them and how they'd done me. And, how Sam had decided to be in cahoots with them.

Well, she'd won. She'd gotten my baby, and she'd gotten her, my daughter, to shine me on. I know it was her, and him of course, who'd undercut me. His big house his big cars his big money. Oh, I'm sure that they sugarcoated it. Probably told her that she could visit me any time she wanted. But, that would have been a lie of course. All he had to do was flash his big bucks, and it was all over for me; she'd always be too busy for her old pauper of a dad.

Now I was single, or would be in a few months. Now I had no extended family; I just couldn't face them; my humiliation was just too overwhelming. I wouldn't be like the two of them, and undercut them with the relatives like they had evidently thought I would. I didn't operate that way, not me. They were the scum sucking assholes, not me. Well, I hoped they were fucking happy, and I hoped that someday it would all came back to bite 'em in the ass. But, that only time would tell. As for me, time to get on with my life, my new life. I had to find myself a new family; to me, family was everything—at least it had been.

And what of my new life? All of the old hangouts and common threads that had once tied Henry and I together were history now. I couldn't compete with his money and any friends of his were going to be automatically enemies of mine, no discussion no compromise. So, new habits, new haunts, new social circles, new unlisted phone, and a new address, and maybe a new job too as soon as I could work it.

I wondered what the bunch of them were going to be saying on the fourth of July. Probably lay all of the blame on me, make me the bad guy, offer some lame excuse like the one Kimberly laid on me. I can hear it now: "We just couldn't help it. We tried to make it right with Quinn, but he was just too hurt and bitter to talk with us. But, we'll make it right by him someday; we have to; we know that." Yeah, that's just what they'd be saying, probably word for word.

But the way I saw things that was okay, all of it. I had Friends: John Daniels, comrade Smirnoff; and last but not least Roscoe Lamm, my bartender. Oh, and don't let anybody from the temperance league tell yuh that drinkin' don't help; it does, a lot!

******

I'd gotten title to the house, and I'd sold it fast and cheap. It had actually become toxic to me: too damn many memories. I wondered if any of the memories, that I was reliving almost nightly, ever even entered the mind of my ex-wife; or, for that matter my ex-daughter. I wanted to think that they did; and, that such made the two of them uncomfortable. Well, one could hope.

Except for the day of the hearing, I had not seen public enemy number one: my brother, let alone heard from him. I wondered what kind of man, let alone a blood relative could do something like what he'd done to me. I wondered how he'd approached Kimberly in the first place. She'd said it just happened. Yeah right! Like I believed that. But, my incredulity notwithstanding, my question remained unanswered.

I had indeed gotten title to the house and sold it: got forty-thousand clear after costs. I gave it to my lawyer to arrange a trust fund for Sam's college. She may have shined me on, but I wouldn't do that to her even if I couldn't bring myself to be around her anymore; I couldn't. Abraham Maxwell, esquire, had my power of attorney. The three of them could deal with him from now on. I was gone.

And, time slowly passed and it was a lonely, empty time for me.

******

"Mom, I know dad is mad. And—well—I missed my first weekend with him last month. I have to go this time. Dad will take me to school Monday morning. Okay?" said Samantha.

"Yes, dear. You should go. Call if you need anything. I'll call you a cab. I don't think it would be good having us drop you. I mean if your dad even so much as sees our car… " said her mother.

"Yes, I understand," said Sam.

******

She saw the sign, and thought it had to be a mistake. "SOLD" it announced. It was a realty sign.

She asked the cabbie to wait. She had her old key. She went up the walkway, keyed the door, and entered.

Nothing! Nothing was left. He was gone. Her dad was gone. Not even a scrap of paper remained. Going back outside she noted the phone number of the realtor on the sign, and had the cabbie return her home.

******

"Mom, he's gone. I called this number myself, the realtor's. The guy said the only contact number he had was to a lawyer's office: Abraham Maxwell is the guy's name. Can you call him, mom?" said Sam.

"Okay, okay. Give me a minute. I need to think," she said. The girl in front of her was still standing and clearly upset.

Kimberly Harris headed into the library of the semi-mansion to make the call on the land line. She shut the door denying her daughter entry until the call was made and done with.

"Mom!" she heard her daughter plaintive voice, but she needed to do this one alone. She was fully aware, was Kimberly Harris, of just who Abraham Maxwell really was; and she was also well aware that any information she would get from him would be to Quinn Harris' benefit not hers or Henry Harris'.

Sam paced outside the door waiting for her mother to come out. She had to wait but less than five minutes.

She could tell by the look on her mother's face that the news was not good.

"He says that your dad does not want to be found, Sam. We have to wait for him to contact us, I'm afraid," she said. Sam fell into the chair nearest the door to the library and made fists so tight that the blood supply to them had to have been cut off.

"It's my fault. I didn't go last month, when I was supposed to; and I didn't even call to cancel, and now he's hurt and gone!" said Sam.

"Sam, he'll call. He'll contact us. I know your father; he won't be out there alone for too long. He needs you as much as you need him," said Kimberly.

******

"Well, the weather's nice," said Kimberly.

"Yes, well, let's hope the festivities turn out to be just as nice," said Henry. "Since we haven't heard from him, we're going to have to play it by ear. Cross your fingers."

Little knots of friends and relatives began arriving. Kids headed for the park's play apparatus while the grownups started setting up the picnic tables and getting the barbecues—three of them—going.

"Hello Henry," said aunt Millie. "Kimberly how are you?"

"Hello to you too, aunt Millie," said Henry

"Hi, aunt Millie," echoed Kimberly.

"Where's Quinn," said aunt Millie.

"Not here yet," said Kimberly. Aunt Millie shrugged.

"Well, tell him when he gets here that he's slated to say grace for the dinner. Okay," said aunt Millie.

"Sure bet," said Henry, with a confidence that he did not feel. They watched as their aunt moseyed off to greet other members of the clan.

"What if he doesn't show? And as for that, I doubt that he will?" said Kimberly.

"In that case, we take aunt Millie aside and tell her the story, the truth. It's all we can do. But, until we're sure there is no reason to upset the apple cart," he said. She nodded.

"Okay, I guess you've got a point," she said.

******

"It's no use, Kim. He's not coming. We've got to tell aunt Millie and then make our excuses and get out of here," said Henry, she nodded. They headed for where aunt Millie was holding court. They pulled her aside.

The look on the face of the Harris matriarch was soon one of increasing sadness and shock as the story unfolded.

"And that's the long and the short of it, aunt Millie," said Henry.

The older woman looked at the younger. "You cheated on that good man with his own brother!" said aunt Millie, looking directly at the other woman. And you expected him to cover your collective asses with the family."

"We are so sorry aunt Millie. We just couldn't help ourselves," said Kimberly.

"Well, that's just wonderful. You are going to hurt a lot of people with this selfishness of yours. And, I tell you now. You too will never be happy, not really. You think you will. You think that this 'love' of yours will carry you through, but I can tell you that it will not. You will eventually split up or worse. The pressure is going to be just too great. Believe me.

"I'll say your goodbyes for you. I have to think of how I am going to break this to the family. At best it is not going to be pretty, not even," she said.

"Aunt Millie… " started Kimberly.

"Just go, Kimberly, the both of you. It's hard for me to even look at you," she said. "Tonight, you two should try and imagine where Quinn is and what's going through his mind and searing his very soul."

"But… " started Kimberly.

"Go, just go," she said, turning her back on the two of them.

Their aunt watched as the two of them retreated to the parking lot. Millie Harris gritted her teeth. This was not good. She headed for a little knot of family elders getting it on in the horseshoe pit. This was not going to be good, not good at all.

******

"Well, that went badly," said Henry. She nodded.

"It was to be expected. If it had been anybody but Quinn… " she said.

"Yeah, anybody else," he said. "He was always her favorite. But, aunt Millie was wrong about us. I will never give up on you. I need you and love you. And, Kim, I mean forever."

"Yes, and that goes for me too. You're mine, no matter what or—who," she said.

******

Sloan Mackenzie looked tired and wired and wound up. Well so what, the Lamplighter was a place to unwind wasn't it? Teaching school was definitely not all summer vacations and intellectual repartee with one's colleagues, not by a long shot.

She'd seen him before, on parents' night. He was Samantha's father, Quinn Harris. He did not look too good, but not tired so much as—depressed. She headed over to the man at the bar.

"Hi," she said. I turned to see who the interrupter of my thought processes was.

"Uh—hello?" I said. She looked familiar, but I couldn't actually place her, not in my present state of alcoholic euphoria at any rate. "Do I know you?" She smirked.

"Hmm, in a way. Samantha was my student in pre-AP English last year," she said. "You're mister Harris if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, yes, sure," I said. "Nice to see you." I was being properly polite, but probably not thrillingly so. She smiled. She was a pretty wench, I thought, as I tried to organize my thoughts.

"So, you come here much?" she said. I shrugged

"Yeah, I guess you'd call me a regular," I said. "You?"

"A couple of times a month, I guess. To unwind, you know," she said. "Your wife with you?" she looked around as if scanning the crowd for her. I snorted. She picked up on it.

"Not a good subject?" she said. I shrugged again.

"It is what it is," I said. "We broke up."

"Wowzer," she said. "Sorry. Didn't mean to pry." I resorted yet again to my favorite means of expressing myself—I shrugged.

"It is what it is," I said. I took another sip of my JD.

"Breakups are tough," she said. "Been there didn't like it."

"No, me neither," I said.

We talked a little more but eventually she made her apologies and wandered off. I smiled her a goodbye.

Almost as soon as she'd turned to go, my bud, Roscoe Lamm, came up to me and asked if I could use a refill. I nodded in the affirmative.

"Yeah, another one," I said. "Say Roscoe, you know anyone who's hiring? I'm looking to change jobs."

"You serious?" he said. He knew I was a fixture at Carter's Auto. He seemed genuinely surprised that I'd want to be changing work places.

"Yeah, serious is the word," I said.

"Well, actually, I might," he said. "I know this family. They're looking for a mechanic who'd also double as a chauffeur. The pay would be good and whoever it is that accepts the job could live there free." He knew I was divorcing.

"Yeah? Who? Where? Where do I apply?" I said.

"Actually, right here. The lady is a regular. She asked me to vet possible candidates. You just got vetted. You got the job if you want it," he said. He pulled out his ballpoint and wrote something on the pad he had behind the bar.

"Here, call this lady at that number," he said, passing me the little four by five sheet of paper.

"Okay, I will," I said. And I did. And then I was employed and unreachable by the trio responsible for my change of employment venues; well, that's the way I saw things.

The lady's name was Anita Childress. handsome, middle aged, divorced, two kids living with her.

In order to assure myself of being unreachable by the dirty quarter dozen, I'd had to explain to mister Carter why I couldn't give notice. He didn't much like it, but he understood and wished me well.

And just like that, I was born again in a family sense.

******

She was shaking her head. "He really has disappeared. Sam is going nuts. Hell, I'm going nuts! What is that ex of mine thinking!" said Kimberly.

"I don't know. He's mixed up, confused, I guess," said Henry. "It was the same when we were kids even in grade school. In high school somebody would insult him because he was so skinny, he was five-eight and one-twenty in his freshman year, and he would hang his head nobody knew where. He's doing it again. As good a man as he is, and he is a good man, he really never grew up in the true sense of the word." She nodded.

"Yes, I guess that's true. But, all of that said and all of it true, I do wish I could have at least minimized the hurt I put on him," she said.

"The hurt 'we' put on him. It was me as much and maybe more than you," he said.

"The more I think about it the more I think you were right. I should have given in to him on the custody issue. That would have mitigated the pain he must have suffered to at least some extent. Kinda let him have some of his back. Now, he sees everything he had before, even Sammy, as lost to him. Oh my, how he must be hurting right now," she said. He nodded his head in slow, sad agreement with her words

"You talked to Sam today?" he said.

"Yes, she distraught. I think she spends her nights alternating between developing outlandish plans to find him and wallowing in despair. I just don't know what to do.

"You know, we have to find him and give him what he wants. I mean if we wait too long he's liable to try and get revenge and find out the unfindoutable. You know what I mean," he said.

"I know exactly what you mean. He'd go nuts, not a question in my mind about that," she said. He nodded.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Does Sam get home at the same time today?"

"Yes, her new schedule at school is the same as last year. She's even got that same English teacher again, Sloan Mackenzie, the Advanced Placement teacher," she said.

"Good, I liked her. I think she's Sam's favorite teacher too," said Henry.

******

"How you doing, Sam," said the teacher.

"Okay, I guess, miss Sloan," said Sam. Sloan Mackenzie could see that her student, who was the first to arrive almost every day, was not really okay, but all she could do was acknowledge her response with a nod.

"Miss Sloan?" said Sam.

"Yes, Samantha," said her teacher.

"Can I ask you something?" said Sam.

"Of course," said Sloan.

"My mom and dad broke up; she, my mom, has a new man. How's a kid supposed to act after something like that?" said Sam.

Sloan leaned back in her desk's chair. She knew from her conversation with the man, her dad, that there had indeed been a breakup, but she had not let on to anybody that she knew. Now, she was discussing the issue with one of the principals.

"You're with your mom and her new man?" said Sloan

"Yes, ma'am," said Sam. The older woman became thoughtful.

"Are you getting along okay with them, I mean your mom and this new guy?" said Sloan.

"Yes, I mean I guess so. He's not really new though. And yes mom and uncle Henry are good to me. But, I miss my dad. Since the divorce things are not the same."

"You call your new step dad uncle then?" said Sloan. "That kinda tells…"

"No, he is my uncle. Well used to be. Now he's my step-dad I guess," said Samantha Harris. Her teacher looked her askance.

"You mean you used to call him uncle, right?" said miss Sloan.

"No, no he's my real uncle my dad's brother," said Sam.

Suddenly things took on a whole new slant per Sloan Mackenzie's understanding of what her number one student was going through. Not only had her mother divorced her dad, but she was essentially living in an incestuous relationship with her ex brother-in-law.

"My oh my," said Sloan. "You say you're not seeing your dad much?"

"No, he left and nobody knows where he is," said Sam.

"Really," said Sloan. She had seen Quinn Harris a few times, most recently two weeks past. The man was apparently a regular at the Lamplighter, but the family, his family and ex, was apparently not aware of it.

Now Sloan Mackenzie had a problem: to tell or not to tell. And, as well, now she had a whole new appreciation of the Man's, Quinn's, depressive state. She knew better than to involve herself with someone whose baggage was as multitudeness as was this girl's dad's. Still… She would be unwinding at the Lamplighter that very night. She decided, she wanted to talk to the man some more if not substantially, but would he even be there?

******

She spied him in close confab with Roscoe, everybody's best friend; well, everybody who frequented the Lamplighter B&G.;

"Hi guys," said Sloan.

I turned to look at her. She looked—something—purposeful. "Hi Sloan," I said.

"Yeah, hi Sloan," said Roscoe.

"Did I interrupt anything?" she said.

I'd gotten to know Sloan Mackenzie over the past little while, was maybe the right way to say it. She wasn't a close friend or anything, but well, I trusted her. And no, I didn't know why it would even matter that I did.

"No, no," I said. "Just planning a fishing trip," I said.

"Yea, right," she said, and laughed.

"No, we were just shooting the shit," said Roscoe. "What can I getcha, Sloan?"

"Just a draft," said Sloan. Roscoe headed off to the taps some dozen feet down the bar.

"I talked to your daughter today," said Sloan, looking serious. "She volunteered pretty much everything, Quinn. I had no idea. I mean…"

I stared at her. "Really? My daughter? Whatever, Sloan, it is what it is," I said, finally thinking of something to say that didn't sound whiny or wimpish. I did not want to talk to her or anyone else about my daughter. I was hoping she would drop the topic. I hoped in vain.

"I can just imagine the problems that a relationship like theirs must have caused," said Sloan, just as Roscoe returned with her beer.

"Beyond my control," I said.

"Evidently. Quinn—can I ask you something? Something personal?" she said. I didn't like where this was heading, but I shrugged my okay anyway.

"Your daughter, she doesn't know how to contact you?" said Sloan, taking an only slightly disingenuous path in the conversation.

"No, I don't think so. It was her choice," I said. Okay, so I was rearranging the facts a little; it was how I felt.

"I didn't get the feeling that she chose not to be able to get in touch with you," Sloan said. "In fact, she's kinda down because she can't find you." Suddenly, I was nervous.

"You didn't tell her that I come here, did you?" I said.

"No, no. I didn't know your feelings on the matter, so I kept my yap shut—for the moment," she said. "I mean if it's a secret…"

"It is," I said. "Samantha chose to live with them and not with me. And add to that the judge went along with it. Gave my ex and my so called brother total custody too. So, I opted myself out of their lives."

"Wow!" she said. "I can see why you feel stung by it all."

"You don't approve?" I said. "I mean of my opting out of their lives."

"Not my place to approve or not approve," she said. "But, for what it's worth, you might want to give your daughter another chance. I know for a fact that she misses you." I snickered.

"Feels guilty maybe, but miss me; not in any real sense of the word," I said.

"Okay, I'll butt out, and I will keep your secret. But, like I said, you might want to be thinking about giving that kid another chance."

"Yeah sure," I said, effectively ending the conversation.

******

Working at the Childress residence was easy-peasy as my Samantha used to say when she was a deal younger. The Childresses had three vehicles two Chevy sedans and a Caddy. Needless to say they were all in tip top condition. The Caddy was Miss Anita's, the mom's. The two impalas belonged to her two daughters Crystal age nineteen and Hermione age seventeen. The good news was that the pay was good. I did have to move out of my apartment and into the servants' quarters because I was on call to drive mom wheresoever, but that was not proving to be much of a problem. Plus, I did enjoy the lady's company—and no, not in any kind of lover on the side kind of thing. Our relationship was strictly platonic, employer-employee, whatever.

The girls uniformly drove themselves though I had been asked a couple of times by mom to shadow Hermione's dates. Seems she kinda gravitated toward boys of questionable integrity. After several such forays, I was able to report to mom that the boys while less than perfect, I suppose, were not anything to worry much about. Mom seemed to relax after that.

"What was the boy's name again, Quinn?" said Anita.

"Christopher Sand," I said. "Seventeen, into punk rock, dad's an engineer: And, so far he's kept his hands to himself."

I had Sundays off, and only worked nights if arranged for in advance. This latter reality allowed me to maintain my membership in the Lamplighter's barfly association. I needed that. What my ex had done to me still hurt like hell: I needed the camaraderie of other losers like myself.

I began to have a more or less regular association with Sloan Mackenzie though it never went anywhere close to being an intimate relationship. She just listened and opined when her input seemed required. She had, I was sure, kept her word to keep my nightly hangout on the QT as regarded my ex family.

******

Did I wonder what was going on in the other Harris household, if they ever thought about me, or cared a whit either way. Of course I did. I figured my ex-brother's money, he was marginally a millionaire, pretty much covered any feelings of guilt that might the trio might otherwise have been assailed by withal. My analysis of such notwithstanding, I would discover much later just how completely in error my analysis was.

******

It was Thanksgiving week. The Henry and Kimberly Harris household was duly appointed with the trappings of the season. The smells from the kitchen put the period on that sentence.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "Love you, babe," said Henry.

Still facing away from him, she smiled. "Love you too big boy," she said. "Did you get an RSVP from aunt Millie?" she said.

"Yes, she sends her regrets. No explanation, just her regrets, same as last year," he said. "It's been a year and a half and she still hasn't forgiven us for—well—you know."

"Yes, I know. I wonder what he is doing for the holidays," she said.

"Who knows. He could be here or us at his place, but my erstwhile brother has decided to cut himself off from us, and there's no getting around it. It's up to him same as always," said Henry. "At least some members of the clan still talk to us. It could have been worse."

She turned to face him. "Yes, but if anybody ever gets wind of the fact that you are Samantha's real dad—well—I hate to think of what might come of it," she said.

"For sure," he said. She noticed that he shuddered at the thought. It was a slight shudder but a noticeable one.

What neither of them noticed was the shadow of the girl just around the corner in the hall. Samantha was devastated, shocked, hurt, worried, more… Her dad, her real dad wasn't her dad; he was her uncle! She didn't know what to do. But, really, there was only one thing that she could do, should do: she had to confront the two in the kitchen. She walked in on them.

"Mom? Is it true?" she said. The shock on the older woman's face as she realized that the cat was out of the bag was close to total.

"My God! Honey, it's not what you think… " started Kimberly Harris.

"Kim, no she needs to know. It's time," said Henry Harris. His wife stared daggers at him.

"It's true, Sam. I'm—well—I'm your biological dad. It was an accident. Your dad, uncle, my brother and your mom were already married. One night at a party—well, we were drunk. We were young and we were drunk. Well, and we did things. And well, then there was you.

"Sam, I loved your mom even then. But, she was married to my brother. For years every time the family got together, I would see her, your mom; and, well, I'd die a little inside because I knew I could never have her. Her husband, my brother, loved her too. So… I lived in pain: the pain of loss.

"But then, two years ago now, your mom who is a lot smarter than I am, decided to cut to the chase and hit me with it, the question," he said.

"Question?" said Sam.

"She asked me if I loved her. I said yes. The rest you know," said Henry.

"So my dad is my uncle? The man who raised me is not my real dad," said Sam.

"Honey, you have two dads is the way I look at it. Quinn Harris is as real a dad as any in dad in the world. Henry Harris is your bio dad.

"When I broke your daddy's heart, I broke my own as well; mine because I hurt him. But, I could not help myself.

"Sam, believe me I've wanted to tell you, to tell him. I still love the man on some level. I do. So, I should also say does my husband, Henry Harris." She glanced in her husband's direction. "But, Quinn can never know. As bad as he feels now, that knowledge would destroy him," said Kimberly Harris.

"Sam, would you come with me for a moment," said Henry. He shot his wife a look that spelled that he needed to talk to his "niece" alone. He also noted and with some dismay the girl's apparent angst. "Please." She nodded and followed him into the library.

Henry Harris sank into a seat at the head of the large oak table that dominated the window side of the large bookshelf lined room. Sam took a seat across from him but did so more deliberately. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Sam, Quinn Harris, your dad, and yes he is your dad, and you need to think of him that way; well, he's my brother too. I miss him. I hate myself for what I did to him. But, I could not help myself any more than your mom could; I have loved your mom since the first time I saw her on my lucky brother's arm.

"Sam, Kimberly Fairchild should never have married your dad. She was meant to be mine. But, Quinn already had dibs. I feared that if I took her, or tried to take her, away from him that the repercussions for the family would be horrendous. Quinn is more than loved by every one of our relatives and friends. Well, and what I feared then has turned out to be true: the repercussions of my putting in my claim to your mother have been disastrous. Your aunt Millie hardly speaks to me or your mom either," he said, "and it's even worse with most of the rest of our family."

"So, you fucked my mother and she had me, and now I'm supposed to call you dad. Is that it?" said Sam. The man looked down. It was clear that the girl was having a hard time with it all.

He shrugged. "I won't kid you, Sam, I'd like that; but, I will understand if you don't want to," he said.

"I need to talk to my dad," she said.

"Sam, what your mom said in there was a true thing. Quinn could not handle it. If you or anyone tells him, it's going to be very bad. Entirely my fault, but the bad will be mostly on him. He just won't be able to handle it. Please, Sam, do not tell him. If you see him, and you will at some point, don't tell him. For his good, not mine or even your mom's," said Henry.

The silence in the room was but a prelude to the typhoon of misery that was to come.

******

She knocked tentatively, softly, but loud enough to be heard inside the house. The older woman answered the knock.

"Sam! What brings you here and on a school day," said aunt Millie.

The conversation lasted some three hours. Mostly with aunt Millie comforting the girl.

"Sam, Quinn Harris is your dad, your real dad regardless of DNA or whatever they are using these days to determine parentage. I watched that man raise you. I watched while he struggled to make as good a living as he could for you and your mother. When you see him again, the first words out of your mouth must be, 'I love you, daddy', got it?" said aunt Millie. The girl nodded.

"I know, aunt Millie, I just don't know how I'm supposed to act, think, do anymore. It's going to be so hard."

"I know, baby girl. Your mom and Henry Harris have a lot to answer for. Someday it'll hit 'em, and they will fully realize what they have done, the hurt that they have caused and not just to your dad or to you.

"I know, aunt Millie," the elder female smiled.

"Samantha, we will find your dad, that good man, and we will do our best to help him get by it all. We'll likely fail, but at least he will know that there are people in this family that care about him and his feelings. Sam, one thing your mom said was absolutely true; he will have a very hard time of it once he does know, at least at first."

"That's what uncle Henry said too," said Sam.

"Yes, and he's right on that score, Sam. But that said, in the final analysis it'll be your decision to tell or not to tell," said aunt Millie.

******

"You look terrible," said Lillian Franks, age seventeen, classmate of seventeen year-old Samantha Harris.

"Why wouldn't I? I haven't got a date for the prom. It's our senior year and I don't have anyone to go with!" said Samantha.

"Yes, big surprise, and it's your own fault," said Lillian. "You've turned down three guys already. All the other studs are afraid to ask you; their insufferable male egos can't take the hit. But, like we talked about, you can go with me and Roger Bolger if you want. You can pick up a date at the prom and use him to escort you to the parties. Okay?" said Lillian.

"You sure Roger won't mind?" said Samantha.

"Heck no," said Lillian. "It'll be a blast. Anyway, I happen to know that he has the hots for you, but just remember, tonight I own his personal body. Okay!" The two girls giggled.

The preparations for the prom were manifold and costly as every parent is absolutely well aware. The boys have it a bit easier, but even they have challenges. The two girls were hanging out at the Kimberly and Hank Harris' house. It was three days until the prom.

"So who is going to drive us if Roger doesn't come up with the money for the limousine?" said Samantha, "I know he doesn't have a car himself."

"Me I guess," said Lillian. "Like we talked about last week. It'll be better than one of our parents delivering us for sure. Mine'll let me have the car, but won't allow Roger to drive it; that's ironclad."

"Okay. But, I did get my license a couple of months ago," said Kimberly. "If you want I can drive, if your parent will allow, and you and Roger can make out." The two girls laughed at the imagery. They stopped laughing when they heard the front door open and close.

"Hello, girls," said Henry Harris. "What's happening?"

"Nothing, dad," said Kimberly. "Just making final plans for the prom."

"You guys still going as a trio?" said Henry.

"Yes, mister Harris," said Lillian. "Deciding who's going to be driving is all."

"Hmm, yes. But, I thought that that your boyfriend was renting a limo," said Henry.

"Little money problem. His dad lost his job. But, as for that he's still hoping to come up with enough to take care of that. But, just in case, we may be borrowing your Lexus," laughed Lillian.

"Yeah, dad, that's a class car almost as good as a limo," said Samantha.

"Hmm, fat chance girls," said Henry, "that's one car you may not drive. Sam, why don't you drive your own car?" Samantha gave her dad, and yes that's what she'd been calling him for almost a year, a look.

"Huh?" said Sam.

"Your car, your own car," said Henry. "And park the damn thing in the garage right now, if you don't mind, it's blocking the driveway. Sam's eyes shot open. She had no car. But, her dad had just indicated that she did. That could only mean one thing. She rushed to the back door and looked out across the little parkway toward the garage.

It couldn't be her car. She didn't know much about cars, but the car sitting in the middle of that driveway was a brand new Lincoln Continental. She knew that's what it was because Sonia Gilchrist's mom drove one, and she'd been in it more than once.

"Daddy!" she yelped.

"Yes, yes, it's yours," said her biological father. The screams that shook the walls of the Harris kitchen cold be heard on Oahu.

The man extended the keys to the girl. She rushed to him and kissed him on the cheek. The two girls literally danced their way to the car.

******

"She liked the car then," said Kimberly Harris.

"Duh yuh think?" said Henry. "I had to do it. Once she started calling me daddy it was a no brainer for me."

"Gotta wonder how Quinn would react if he knew," said Kimberly.

"Not well. He'd see it as a bribe, but it's just a thank you present from my point of view," he said. His wife nodded.

******

It was an anniversary of a kind I suppose. It was on this date or close to it three years ago that my world collapsed. But, my good buddy, John Daniels was hanging in there with me.

"How yuh doin' cowboy," said Sloan. I smiled, she was my other friend.

"Good, good, I guess," I said. "You?"

"Also, good. Not doing much, just working, you know," she said. I didn't want to ask her, but I decided to anyway.

"How's my kid. You still teaching her?" I said.

"Good, I guess. And, yes, she's still in the program. You probably don't know it, but her prom was last week. I hear she had a lot of fun," said Sloan.

"Good, good," I said. For some reason, or maybe no reason the news, that my Sam was doing well, hurt me. Selfish on my part I guessed. I guess I wanted her to miss me too much to feel good. Life sure sucked if one were me.

"Wanna dance?" I asked. She gave me a look.

"Maybe some other time, Quinn, I have to be going. Got a ton of stuff to take care of for Monday's classes. Raincheck?" she said.

"Sure bet," I said. I watched as she headed off to the exit. I wondered why she kept chatting me up and then leaving or ignoring me every time she saw me. I doubted she was spying for Samantha. I was pretty sure that she hadn't outted me, that as per my nightly location. Well, it was what it was.

******

"She's one of her moods?" said Henry.

"Yes. About once a month you can lay book that she'll sit around and be despondent wondering about him." Kimberly took on a pensive look. She spoke addressing the absent presence of her ex-husband. "Oh, Quinn where are you my friend." Her now husband nodded. His look mirrored hers.

"He should be here, Kim. Yes, it's our fault that he's not, but he needs to man up and be here. He has a… " started Henry.

"Yes, a daughter," she said. "And, she is his daughter just as much as she is ours if not more so."

"No argument from me," he said. "Yeah, I wish I knew where he was too. At least I think I do."

They went silent as they heard her coming down the stairs.

"Mom, dad, I just found something," said Samantha. The two elder Harrises stared at her.

"What did you find?" said Kimberly Harris.

"This," said Sam. She held out a matchbook. "It's a matchbook from a place dad used to go to I think. I was looking through a box of my old stuff, and…"

Henry Harris, took the proffered memento of a long ago time. "Hmm, yes, we—he—used to go there from time to time. It wasn't exactly his hangout though, Sam. He just liked the piano player. He and your…"

"Yes, he and I used to go dancing there once in a while, Sam. But Sam there is a no reason to believe that he would be going there with any regularity now," said Kimberly Harris.

"And, no reason to think he might not be," countered Samantha Harris.

"Honey, the one thing that we do know is that your dad does not want to be found," said Kimberly.

"Sam, I'm your dad's, your other dad's, brother and he has cut us off. What your mom and I did—well—we did it wrong. We fell in love, but as I think I told you before, not when you were fourteen, but the night you were conceived.

"I made a mistake then and stepped aside for my brother whose husband was your mother's at the time. I should not have stepped aside; your mom should have been mine. Yes, my brother had got his bid in first, but there is really no such thing as dibs in human relationships. Your mom belonged with me. But, as I said, I stepped aside. But my love for your mom never died; so, I put in my claim fourteen years late and after the fact. It killed your dad's heart. I will go to my grave with the guilt I feel over that.

"Girl, it is my hope, my sincerest hope, that my brother and I—let alone you and your mom—can one day be good. You have no idea. I know that all of us miss the man. But, it has to be him that contacts us, not us him. Can you understand that, Sam. It has to be his idea. If it isn't, it won't work long term. I know it, I know it as a great truth," said Henry. The girl stood across the room watching her bio dad pacing as he spoke. Her gaze flitted periodically to her mom whose head hung while her husband spoke.

"I have to go out," said Sam.

"Sam?" said Henry.

"Yes, dad, I understand what you're saying. But, I do have to go out. Lillian is expecting me. We're going to work on my speech. I'm salutatorian you know. Graduation is in two weeks and I need to work on my speech. Okay!" she said. The two adults nodded.

******

"She's going to try and find him," said Kim. "Maybe not today, but she is."

"I'm afraid so. I want her to, but I don't want her to if that makes any sense whatsoever," he said.

"It does, I'm of the same mind. I want to say things to him. I just—well—but, I just don't know what they are," she said. "If she finds him, she will tell him the truth, all of the truth. I know it." He nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure she will. And, the fallout will be horrific.

"You know he might be spending time at the Lamplighter. It was our favorite sometime hangout in spite of what I said a few minutes ago," said Henry.

"Yes, I know. I never thought about checking the place out until she found that stupid matchbook," she said.

******

"Whatcha need girly-girl," said Roscoe to the obvious teenager.

"Uh—I'm looking for someone," said Samantha.

"Okay?" he said.

"Quinn Harris," she said. The man's face showed surprise and something else—recognition. This had to be the man's daughter.

"Uh, he's not here tonight," said the bartender.

"Do you know where he works?" she said. The man had busied himself with polishing a glass to its virgin sparkle.

"And, who might you be?" he said.

"I'm his daughter. I'm Samantha Harris," she said. He nodded.

"Look honey, I don't know who gave you this address, but I know something of your story. Your dad has talked to me some. Why don't you let me deliver him a message. He—well—he doesn't want to be found if I have it right," he said. Roscoe Lamm did have it right. He knew damn near the whole story. But, the look on the little girl's face made shining her on real hard; in fact, it made it impossible.

"Mister, I really need to talk to him. It's been three years. I made a huge mistake back then. I need to make it up to my dad. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, but you didn't get this from me," he said. He scribbled an address on a napkin. "It's where he works." The girl's smile made the risk he was taking worth it. He was sure she would have kissed him if she'd been on the worker side of the bar. He smiled her his "You're welcome."

She drove to Lillian Franks' house. Well, she did have a speech to work on. And, she needed advice. Lillian was her advisor best friend and mentor in regards to things social.

******

"Yes, you should go there. Your dad, and he is your dad in spite of you know what, needs you as much as you need him. But, you need to be real careful talking about the 'you know what'," said Lillian.

"Yes, I know. I'm almost too afraid to tell him," said Samantha.

"Yes, I understand, but if you hide it or try to, when he does find out that you knew, things will not be good," said Lillian. Samantha nodded her most serious nod.

"Yes," she said. "The time for truth and all is now. I need him, Lil. I really need him. I love my dad."

"I know, baby, I know. And, you're right. You need to be straight with him. In the long run in spite of the hurt, he will appreciate your honesty. Really," said Lillian.

"You're the greatest, Lil," said Sam. "You're a lot smarter than me."

"Oh yeah, that goes without saying," said Lillian Franks, laughing uproariously. The two girls giggled for half an hour over this or that idea.

******

He saw the brand new Lincoln Continental pulling up the drive; the windows were darkened. "Hermione, tell your mom that she has a visitor," said Quinn to the younger of the Childress daughters.

The girl disappeared. Then two things happened. Another teenager made her appearance, debarking as she did from the driver's side of the Lincoln. And second, the man watching her, one Quinn Harris, nearly fainted from surprise—no, shock.

"Hi dad," said Samantha Harris, she was smiling, but it was but a hopeful smile.

"Samantha!" I said.

Just then Anita Childress made her appearance. "Quinn?" she said, noting the young girl standing next to the sixty-thousand dollar ride.

"Missus Childress this is my daughter, Samantha Harris," I said.

The next minute was consumed with the necessary pleasantries. Done missus Childress made her apologies and left the Harrises to their own devices.

A long minute of utter silence ensued. Samantha broke it. "It's been too long my daddy," said Sam. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "How did you find me?"

"You left something behind that gave me a clue and then I asked around," she said.

"I left something behind?" I said. I knew that I had left nothing behind. She was dodging the issue.

"A matchbook. It was from the Lamplighter," she said.

"A matchbook?" I said. I wanted to say a "fucking" matchbook. Hell, I didn't even smoke. At any rate, she'd gone to the lounge and asked around; and, here she was. I had to give her credit. She was sharp, too damn sharp!

"Dad, can we talk. I mean privately," she said. I had to admit to curiosity, a lot of curiosity.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "That your ride?"

"Yes," she said. I noted that she suddenly took on a sheepish look, well, it looked like a sheepish look to me. Whatever, it was a real nice ride and far beyond my poor economic ability to purchase. My good ex-brother knew how to ensure loyalty—even love maybe.

The waitress at the Roundtree took our orders and retreated to see to them. I nursed the coffee she'd brought with her along with her order pad. The Roundtree was a ma and pa operation but a scant two miles from the Childress household. Over the year plus since being employed there, I'd eaten there numerous times. Gayle, our waitress now seeing to our orders, knew me by name.

"So, and what brings you to my bailiwick?" I said, not quite oozing sarcasm.

"Dad, lots of things, but mainly just to see you. When you left that day at the courthouse, I knew you were hurt, angry, mixed up even at my then age of fourteen. But, I had no idea that you would abandon me—all of us—like that.

"Dad, I love you. Oh, and by the way, aunt Millie says to tell you the same thing. She misses you as much as I do," said Samantha.

"Well, thanks for that," I said. "And how is aunt Millie?"

"Good. Getting a little older, but good, I guess," said Samantha.

"Tell her I'm glad she is doing well," said Quinn. My daughter nodded her willingness to do so.

"Dad, you know I love you right?" she said. "I mean in spite of everything?"

"Not really, or better, not as much as the two traitors," I said. I was not going to be soft soaping the situation, not even.

"Dad! That's not true. The judge—well—he kinda made me choose. I knew mom was scared, terrified that you'd hate her and—uncle—Henry. I thought, well, I thought that maybe you'd be more understanding," said Sam. "I didn't know what to do, so I chose mom.

"Dad, if I'd chosen you it would have been the same just the other way 'round," said Sam.

"Again, not really," I said. "The two of them had each other. They had each other to comfort one another at night; I had cold sheets and a whiskey bottle, so no, it would not have been the same. So, when you chose to be with them, well…"

"I didn't see it that way at the time. I thought we'd all still kinda be together. I mean we were—are—still family," she said. "That's what dad Henry says, even now."

"Really, it's dad Henry now is it," I said, it was not a question.

"Well, kinda," said Samantha.

"Kinda? What's kinda, Samantha? I'm your daddy, not him. He's your uncle and living in an incestuous relationship with your mother," I said. "That's the reality."

"Well… " started Samantha.

"Well what? That's the reality. You're old enough to understand that now. Maybe you weren't three years ago, but you are now," I said.

"Well, that's kinda wrong, dad. Daddy, a while back I overheard mom and dad Henry talking. Daddy, dad Henry is my biological dad," said Samantha. "But you're my real dad too." I gave her a look. I wasn't sure I'd heard her right. I mean I had, but I couldn't have.

"What did you say?" I said. My voice was low, and I knew—menacing.

"Daddy, none of that matters to me. You're my real daddy too," said Samantha.

"And he's your real daddy too?" I said. "I mean my ex-brother."

"Yes, but he's still your brother too," said Sam. "He's sad for all of the stuff that's happened. He told me so. He's told me so lots of times." I was nodding slowly. I was sick to my stomach. Of all of the things my brother had done to me, this was the epitome, the absolute epitome.

"Get this, Sam, he is not my brother. He's my enemy. You tell him that when you see him. Tell him that I'm coming for him. Oh yeah, he and I need to talk or something," I said.

"Daddy… " I was already standing. I threw a twenty on the table and strode out. I had someone I needed to see—or kill. And, yes, I walked, I walked fast, the two miles back to the house.

******

It was Saturday afternoon. I had called missus Childress and told her I had a personal problem and asked for the rest of the day off. She'd seen me with my daughter, niece, talking. I'm sure she figured that something had gone on and that I had to handle it right then and there: she gave me the day off.

I knew where he'd be, at his car dealership. My ex-brother was nothing if not industrious.

Ironically, I guess it was irony, I was driving the car, to a car dealership, that I had planned to give to Samantha when she was old enough to drive: a clean and mechanically sound car, but an older Mazda, not a Lincoln.

The dealership was large, it covered three acres, and it was but one of his three dealerships. I caught a salesman heading out.

"Can you tell me where I can find Henry Harris?" I said. The man looked me up and down. He pointed toward the rear of the lot where mechanics were working on various trade-ins that the buying public thought to be unloading. I headed for it.

My enemy was talking to one of his employees. His back was to me.

"Hey, fuckwad!" I said in warning. He turned to look at me just as I reached him. I unloaded on him with everything I had. He went down. I jumped on top of him and started punching him and kneeing him as best I could. Blood spurted from his mouth, nose, and eyebrows.

He was a lot bigger than me and was able to roll me off of him. He was making to stand and fight back. I bounced up adrenalin flowing and fierce hatred spawning strength I never knew. I pick up a wrench and aimed at his head; I was only able to deliver a glancing blow. My second attempt put him down just as two workers grabbed me and pummeled me to the floor. But minutes later the uniforms arrived. I was cuffed and hauled off to the jailhouse. No words, except my initial greeting had passed between us.

I had not enough money, so bail was a non-happening. After my arraignment I was remanded to jail to await a court date. A court appointed attorney was my only visitor that second day. I no longer had the services of my old attorney Abe Maxwell. He and his family had moved to the other coast during my self-imposed exile.

"You should not have picked up that wrench, mister Harris," said Louis Gold. "You could do serious time. Our best course would be to throw ourselves on the mercy of the court." I nodded. I no longer cared what happened to me. As far as I was concerned my life was over, and the only thing left for me was to breathe yet a while and then die.

On day three I did get a visitor, my ex-wife. I sat across from her. I'd decided to see her because I wanted her to see my suffering. She might not care, I knew, but then again it figured that seeing me might add to her guilt if indeed she felt any especially since my fatherhood of my baby had been a lie. Oh yes, I did want to see her.

"My God, Quinn! What were you thinking!" was her opening gambit. Henry didn't want to press charges, but the D.A. didn't care; there were too many witnesses."

My demeanor was outwardly calm; inwardly I was a typhoon of fierce hatred. "I was thinking about how you betrayed me, dumped me, married my brother, and let me live a lie for the entire time we were married. You know the lie I'm referring to. The one you told about me being the father of 'our' baby. Well, she who I had thought was my baby, but was really only 'your' baby, and his of course," I said.

"Quinn, you were and are her father. Yes, your brother was the sperm donor, a big mistake on our part. But you raised our baby. You are her dad. That's all she ever calls you at the house," said Kimberly.

"And what does she call Henry?" I said, "I know she knows he is her biological father." She didn't miss a beat.

"Since you ask, she calls him dad too, well, since she found out about him and me and all of it," said Kimberly. I sneered.

"Thanks for everything, Kimberly. I owe you so much. Just do me one favor okay?" I said.

"Quinn, anything. Like I said, I have already gotten Henry to try and get the D.A. to lighten up on you. But…"

"Just one favor, Kimberly!" I screamed. She jumped back.

"Okay," she said, clearly quailing.

"Stay away from me. I never want to see you again—ever! If they send me to prison, which the beardless boy who's been representing me says is likely, don't visit me. You're dead to me, you and my scumbag brother. Can you do that for me. It's the last thing I will ever say to you or ask of you. Please?" I said.

"Quinn—I am so sorry for everything. But, I guess I do understand your feelings. I will honor your request.

"But, there is one thing. I know what you're answer is going to be. But, I have to say this anyway," she said.

"What!" I said.

"Henry and I talked. He knows how you must feel. We are willing to fund your defence, get you a good lawyer if you will allow," she said. My look was her answer.

"Okay," she said. "But, I had to ask, offer. But, I do understand where you are coming from. Goodbye Quinn." She was sobbing full out as she all but ran to the exit. I sat for a minute waiting for the screw to take me back to my cell.

******

Kimberly:

I am sick with guilt for everything I'd done to my man, and yes, Quinn Harris is still my man on some level. I love him; but, Henry's my soulmate, the love of my life. The man I'd said adieu to for more than fourteen years before opting at the time to stay married to my other good man, Quinn Harris. My judgment had been bad; I should have gone with Henry then; there would have been far less fallout. My only excuse is that I—we—were young and it seemed the right thing to do, well, at the time it did.

Seeing him in chains like that in that ill-fitting orange jumpsuit, I wanted to just die. I knew too that Henry felt the same way. "Oh, what tangled webs we weave when first we practice to deceive."

The day will come when Quinn and I, if not he and his brother, will reach an understanding, to feel good around each other again. It has to come, that day. If there is a God it has to come it just has to.

******

I fired my lawyer. I demanded the right to defend myself. I actually thought that I could succeed given all of the facts and provocations as I saw them. I was wrong.

I made my case. And the judge tendered me his unsympathies and gave me three to five for aggravated assault. I was a felon and on my way to state prison.

There were ten of us in the van transporting us. Ten of us but I was alone, felt alone. Loneliness, I knew, was going to be my dearest companion—"my" soulmate—for the next many years.

******

My stay at state expense was memorable and all of the memories were slated to be bad. After orientation we newbies met our cell mates. Mine was Jethro Cousins, six-four, two-fifty, rough-hewn but soft spoken. He spoke softly to me on my first day.

"You want protection little man?" he said. At five-eleven and one-fifty, I wasn't that little, but I knew the score. While I was still in county waiting to be transported a couple of different guys, veterans of the state system, offered me advice. Join a gang, get a very large friend, charm one of the guards or more than one. Do anything to get insurance or your ass is gonna be very brown grass because you will be shit on regularly.

"What do I have to do?" I said. The big man smiled.

"Smart," he said. "Be my bitch. Do it, and you will never have to worry about the niggers or the chulos—his characterizations not mine—while you're my bitch that is." I could feel myself quail. Turn him down and he'd probably make me his "unwilling" bitch anyway: we were going to be sharing a cell together after all.

I nodded. "Okay. I guess I don't have much choice," I said. His turn to nod.

"Sure you have a choice. You just won't like what comes with it if it's not the right choice," he said.

That night I sucked his cock for the first time. A week later I was butt fucked. But, as humiliating and painful as those and their like were, no one ever tried to take me down during the entire time I was inside. I never spent any time in the infirmary, and no one tried to commandeer my food. All of those things and worse happened to a lot of less pragmatic souls in our fair institution. Oh, and did I say, I figured to be lonely; well, I should have if I didn't.

I was in six months before I got my first visitor.

"Hello, Quinn," said aunt Millie. "You okay, dear?" she said.

"Hello, aunt Millie. As well as can be expected I guess. It's not a nice place," I said. I appreciated the fact that she didn't castigate me for getting myself into the mess I was in; it meant a lot.

We talked. She brought me a couple dozen cookies. And, thereafter she'd come every couple of months and bring me something. I loved that woman, but more, she loved me. More than I could say about some people in my so called family.

It was in year three that I got my first real taste of excitement in the joint. I was watching as some guards were beating the hell outta some young black guy. Seems he'd disrespected one of them, and the guards, a few of them, decided to take exception to the kid's attitude. When one of the guards pulled out his nightstick intending to mess the kid up good, I jumped in. I'm not a big guy, but I am a tough guy, well, when it's one on one. At any rate, when it was all said and done, the kid and myself ended up in front of the warden. The kid ended being transferred out, and I had the unspeakable pleasure of getting to serve my entire sentence with no chance for parole. The guard, the one with the nightstick? He was sent to the hospital with several facial fractures, two broken ribs, and a severely broken toe. His friends, the other two guards, had stepped back as a large number of cons began crowding in on them, and let us go at it. I won. Yippee-ay-oh.

And then it was five years after I'd been sent up, and I was let go.

******

"Mister Dodd said he was getting out soon," said Kimberly.

"He's already out. Been out a couple of weeks. He's shacked up at a halfway house in town. I got the news just today. Dodd's contact was a little behind schedule," said Henry.

"Shit!" said Kimberly. "I wanted to know soonest. You and I talked about this."

"Yes, but I just got the news two hours ago. But, I think you're crazy wanting to go see him. He's written us off, Kim. We need to respect his wishes, and believe me I want, wish, more than anything that we could make it right by the guy, but he has to want to or it's a no go. It's been that way since that day, and nothing has changed."

"You're right, and I know you're right. But, I still have to go, Henry. Please," she said. He nodded, but his look was one that bespoke a beaten man, a man sick with guilt and sadness.

******

The halfway house was just a place to flop, oh and they served breakfast, usually just toast and coffee, but sometimes a dozen donuts made their appearance.

Finding a job was proving to be a problem. It seems having a record was a major drawback in any kind of interview process. I was home for the day, home was the halfway house. I was sitting on the steps out front watching life pass me by. I was thinking about going to see aunt Millie soon. But, I wanted to have a job first because I knew for a blood mortal fact that the first question I was going to get was, where was I working.

I was leaning forward my head in my hands staring at the pavement a few stair steps below me. And, then there was a pair of legs blocking my view of the pavement below me. I looked up. I scowled.

"What part of I never wanted to see you again was a mystery to you, Kimberly!" I said, trying to sound singularly unkind without actually breaking some law.

"Hello, Quinn," she said, ignoring my question. "How are you? I mean now you're out of that awful place?"

"Until half a minute ago just peachy thank you very much," I said. "Now you can leave."

"Quinn, please, talk to me for a little. Please. Okay?" she said.

"Why, so you can belittle me to my brother?" I said. I knew she probably wouldn't, but I wanted to hurt her. I think I succeeded judging by her look.

"I never belittled you, Quinn, and you know it. Cheated on you, lied to you, hurt you: okay, yes, I did all of those, but I never belittled you or thought you less than the best kind of man—and father," she said. "But, please, can we go somewhere and get a cup of coffee?"

"I ain't got no money, so no," I said.

"I do, so let's go. There's a café a half block down the street," she said. The café was Margo's Place. I'd done some clean up there a couple of times since I'd gotten out three weeks gone; well, I'd earned a few bucks, and few was the operative word.

With no conscious intention of doing so, I got up and followed her retreating form down the block. I had to smile to myself; she still had a great looking ass.

We settled into a smallish booth across from each other. Coffees in front of us, we stared at each other.

She looked down into the black elixir and then looked up at me, pinning me with her eyes. I realized at that moment something that I had suppressed since the day she'd dumped me: I still loved her, needed her—and now hated that which I loved. How was something like that even possible!

"Quinn, I've missed you. We've missed you. And yes, I know how weird that sounds given everything that's happened," she said.

"You have no idea," I muttered.

"Quinn, I do know. Being locked up so long… " she started.

"You don't have a fucking clue!" I said. "Don't pretend you do."

"Quinn…"

"You want to know how bad it was, Kimberly? Do you wanna hear? Then you actually will know, not just say you do," I said. She looked sad. Her face flushed.

"Quinn, would you like to tell me? I'll listen if you do. I want to help you if I can, and please don't pooh-pooh my words here. Like I say, I know how bad we hurt you. And, I know, that because of what Henry and I did, you spent the last five years behind bars. Every day of which young man I thought of you and cried a little, and yes, I know that in the great scheme of things that that means damn little now," she said.

"Yeah, damn little," I said.

"I guess what I'm after is forgiveness. I don't deserve it and neither does your brother, but we both need it, and we need it bad. If you want to have revenge on us, just deny us forgiveness and you will be on top for sure, trust me on that one," she said. "I hurt, Quinn and so does Henry."

Now, I was staring into my cup of black elixir. "Consider yourself forgiven. Okay? Is that enough?" I said.

"It might be if I believed you, but I don't. You're blowing me off. It's okay. If I have to wait the rest of my life to get the real thing, then I guess that'll have to be the way it's going to be. And, if I never get it; well, then I guess you win," she said.

"Quinn… " she started.

"Do you want to hear or not?" I said, interrupting her.

"Huh?" she said.

"Do you want to hear how bad it was? Do you?" I said.

"Yes, I do. I guess I need to hear it," she said. "You lived it. I can at least listen to you and make you know how much I hurt because of what's happened to you. You deserve that much at the very least," she said.

"My cell, my home for five years, was eight by twelve. It had all the luxuries; well, it had a seatless toilet toward the back. I had to share it though. The guy's name was Jethro Cousins: a lifer. He killed his wife and her lover. Jethro made me an offer my first day after orientation," I said.

"An offer?" she said.

"Yeah, said he'd protect me from the niggers and chulos for certain considerations," I said. She looked me askance, but said nothing.

"He kept his word. I gave him what he wanted and I never got the shit kicked out of me, or gang raped or any of it while I was inside. Jethro was respected—and feared. Well, he was a very big guy," I said.

"You said for considerations?" she said bringing me back on point.

"Yeah, I had to be his bitch. I got to suck his cock and beat him off whenever he asked—and I mean every time he asked. He butt fucked me too, but that not all that often. Oh, and I never learned to like it in case you were wondering. A couple of times he had a few of the gay guys in our block do me up like a girl: makeup, dress, hair, the whole ball of wax. You know, so he could get the whole experience of fucking a real woman. Women are kind of a rare commodity in the joint, as I'm sure you know. I can't tell you how wonderful it was listening to those queers laughing at me and having a gay old time—gay being the operative word—while doing me up pretty.

"Am I boring you?" I said. She was looking away.

"Oh my God," she said, and started crying outright.

"Yeah, oh my God. But, well, God wasn't there for me. But, Jethro was. Except for him I was never messed with," I said.

"Quinn, I guess I didn't have a clue. Quinn, I need to say that I wanted to visit you. Really. But after you told me…"

"Yeah, well, that would not have been good," I said.

"Quinn, I can't undo the past. But, I'd be willing to do anything to help you get back on your feet," she said. "Anything." I snickered.

"Yeah, within limits," I said.

"No limits," she said. She saw my look. "Quinn?"

"It's been eight years, Kimberly Harris," I said, "I'm forty-four years old and not getting any younger or more attractive." She knew what I was referring to.

"Quinn anything but that. A job? I can get you a high paying job. I know people, so does Henry," she said.

"Yeah, anything but what I really need," I said.

"Quinn… " Just then the waitress reappeared with the bill. She handed it to me.

"I really don't have any money," I said. "You gotta pay. Oh, and no thank you on the job offer." She looked stunned—no—frustrated.

"Thanks for the coffee. Don't bother walking me back. I can manage just fine without you or your meagre handouts," I said. I rose and headed out. She didn't try to follow me or say anything else. I assumed she'd pay for the coffees.

"It occurred to me that neither Kimberly nor I even mentioned Samantha. But that was just as well. I knew I was out of the running in terms of being her father; that was a no brainer.

******

It would be a long time before I saw any of them again. They knew my hangout, of course, and I was done hiding out. But, that must have been okay with them because they, apparently, were done seeking me out if indeed that that's what they'd been doing.

I did see Sloan Mackenzie every so often; she seemed to like the Lamplighter as much as I did. We'd even shared a drink now and again—dutch. But, she'd not brought up the subject of Samantha or her family—the one that used to be mine—ever again but then neither had I.

I was coming up on my forty-ninth birthday. Roscoe was still tending bar, and he knew I was kind of in a celebratory mood. It was my first birthday celebration in a long time. I say celebration: Sloan and Blue Harper, a fifty-eight year-old ex-waitress I'd made friends with, were there to celebrate with me. Blue had actually baked me an honest to God cake. As I blew out the candles I thought of the people that should have been there to celebrate with me.

I had mellowed, I realized. I no longer hated the lot of them. Forgive them? No, I couldn't go that far, but at least I no longer woke up in the middle of the night wishing I had a gun to shoot my brother with, and maybe even Kimberly. It was going to be a watershed night for me—I hoped—I was going to ask Sloan for a date. Thirteen years since Kimberly had gotten rid of me, and no real dates, not with any woman. I had purchased relief on occasion, actually many occasions, but those weren't "real" dates. I was forty-nine years-old; I made the decision to try and get a life. My one fear? Well, that Sloan might turn me down. That would be a real bad one for me.

******

They'd been sitting on the couch in front of the TV for quite a while. She with her head resting on his shoulder, he with his arm around her: they seemed the perfect married couple.

"It's his birthday today, you know," he said. She raised her head to look at him.

"Yes, I know. But—what brought this on. I mean why are you mentioning that now?" she said.

"No reason. It's been more than a dozen years: Christmases, birthdays, Sam's graduations from high school and then college, a lot of occasions, and he's been to none of them. His choice, but… " he said.

"I know. I feel the same, and I do think about stuff like that from time to time," said Kimberly.

"Yeah, I know," he said, "the elephant in the room."

"I never told you, but that last time, the last time he and I spoke. You know, when he was flopping at that halfway house after getting out of that awful place. He asked me for something," she said.

"Something? What something?" he said.

"He wanted to screw me. Said it'd been eight years, and he needed my ass. It was the one thing I wouldn't give him. Damn near anything else and I'd have given it to him, but that… " she said.

"Really. I guess I should say wow or something," he said.

"I should have spread for him. It would have been cheating on you, but I should have done it. I mean I cheated on him. Maybe it would have gotten him off and on, I don't know," she said.

"Oh," he said.

"If I had—would you have been okay with it?" she said. He gave her a look.

"I would have understood," he said, answering but not answering her question. She nodded.

She changed the subject. "I heard from Sam today. She got that job at the new high school. She'll be teaching there starting next month."

"Well, good, our girl has really done well, made something of herself. I'm as proud as can be of her," said Henry. She smiled her agreement with him.

******

They'd been laughing and hurrahing the place for over two hours. He'd finally gotten his nerve up.

"Sloan, whaddya think?" I said.

"About what?" she said.

"About the chances that you'd go out with me if I asked," I said. She gave him a look and smiled.

"Tricky," she said. "But, okay, sure," she said. He got up and went around to the other side of the booth and, without so much as a by your leave, kissed her.

"That ought to hold me for a few days," I said. "This is Wednesday, how about Saturday night?"

"Okay," she said. "Good, I'll pick you up at seven."

"You two are a trip," said Blue. "You've been skirting the issue for years now, and you're finally going out on a date—a real date? Gotta love it."

The partying and dancing and cake and ice cream eating went on until the wee smalls.

******

We'd been friends of a sort for a long time now. I'd even been able to soothe her ruffled feathers when a wanna be boyfriend of hers had dumped her for younger stuff. That's been a year past now. Did I see myself as a possible candidate to replace him? Only in my dreams.

When we'd first met, really met, not just at a parents' and teachers' day or report card day, but really met I'd been in a blue funk. My marriage, really my whole life, had imploded and I saw her as just a nice person who seemed the empathetic type.

I think she'd shied away from me because of my shipload of emotional baggage. But, time had passed. The most brackish of waters had long since passed under the bridge, and I was in a better place.

I stood in front of her door holding the mandated bouquet of mixed flowers and took a deep breath. I knocked. She answered. I stood there staring. She was Aphrodite personified. A dark haired dark eyed beauty: late thirties, five-five, one-fifteen, C-cups barely covered by the lavender mid-thigh evening dress she wore. Oh, and she smelled wonderful.

"Uh—good evening goddess," I said. Well, nobody ever said I wasn't clever.

She laughed. "Okay, a goddess am I?"

"Yes, and I'm here to worship you," I said, and I wasn't kidding. I handed her the bouquet. She took them inside beckoning me to follow. She made to put them in a vase and offered me a drink. I nodded. I was never going to say no to this woman.

We sipped our wine and talked about where she might like to go for the evening. The Red Horse, a first rate eatery with a good jazz band got the nod.

"Well, let's go. I'm starving," she said, picking up her purse and wrap.

Dinner was good, and the dancing sensuous, slow jazz usually lends itself to romance as opposed to athletics. Athletics have their place, mind you, but when one is looking for serious romance—well…

It was a little after midnight when I walked her to her door. She stood looking at me on her doorstep.

"You okay tonight, Quinn?" she said. I looked her askance.

"Huh? Of course!" I said, and that more than enthusiastically.

"Well then come inside won't you," she said. I followed her in.

"Have a seat; I'll be back in a sec," she said. She was back in about a minute. She had a bottle of wine and two stem glasses. She poured, we sipped and said almost nothing. Then, she did, say something that is.

"You wanna fuck me?" she said.

My face turned red as a beet; I could feel it. "Yes," I kinda squeaked. She smiled. She came to join me on the couch.

"Okay then, you can begin the process," she said. "I want you to do me here on the couch. Okay?"

"Sloan, anything you want is going to be absolutely okay by me. I promise to never say no to you—never!" She laughed.

"Then, I think it's customary for the male to start by feeling up his female. Oh, and you should maybe undress me and allow time for some—uh—oral stimulation. I mean before you undress yourself and sock it to me," she said. I swallowed a bus load of spit.

I began kissing her, at first gently then a little more enthusiastically. I let my hand caress her breast while my other hand slid daringly up and down the side of her hip.

She pulled my hand to her thigh and it began the slow journey up her thigh until it reached the hem of her panties.

"Don't be shy, Quinn. Lift the hem and discover me," she said.

I felt myself actually tremble in anticipation. This was my first pussy in forever. It had to be first class, it had to be.

She raised up a little. It was the signal to slide her panties off of her. I did so.

I got down on my knees on the floor. She, still seated on the couch, spread her legs wide effectively straddling me. I lifted her dress and gazed upon her most secret place and for a full minute just stared and adored her.

I leaned in and kissed her pussy lips. I felt her jerk slightly at the touch of my lips. I licked her and sucked on her lips and then her clit and then swallowed as much of her flowing juices that I could. God she was female, all female, and I was her slave her votary.

Raising up, I began to undress her. Her dress first then her bra: only her heels remained. I spent a few moments suckling on her breasts. She seemed to like that a lot though I think she was a little ticklish.

I stood and took off my clothes. I was naked and my six-inch pole was quite prominent poking straight out in front of me as it did.

I urged her into a kneeling position, butt towards me, on the couch. Kneeling once more I licked and suckled on her pussy and her anus with all due reverence.

Finally, I stood, and nervously—it is most definitely not just like riding a bicycle—began pressing my cock into her waiting and dripping slit. I slid in easily. I was frozen in place for a number of seconds, and then I began seesawing back and forth screwing her steadily, slowly, lovingly. Yes, Lovingly. It felt strange in view of everything that had gone before, but I was falling in love with my goddess.

I picked up speed and realized I was hammering her. I slowed down so as not to hurt her.

"No!" she screamed. "Keep it up. Slam that thing into me; I need it." And, I did. I wasn't sure about her pussy, but I was more than sure that the back of her couch was going to need repairs.

I stiffened and unloaded all of the cum my ball sack had in storage.

Thirteen years and I'd had no free pussy, dates, a few but not pussy. I realized that the reason for it was that I saw it as cheating on Kimberly. Ridiculous? Maybe, but until this night it is the way I'd felt.

******

Breakfast was good: eggs, bacon, and a scoop of steamed rice.

"So it was good for you then?" she said.

"Oh yeah," I said. "And, in case that it matters this morning, I do still respect you." She laughed.

"Well, good because that's what I was most hoping," she said.

"Do I get a second date?" I said. I was pretty sure that I would.

"Quinn, you and I have known each other for a long time, more or less informally, I guess is the way to say it, but we have. Still, apart from the sex last night, and yes it was good for me too, how do you feel about me?" she said. I felt like she was pressuring me for some reason, but regardless, there could only be one answer.

"Sloan, please don't let my next words ruin us. Okay?" she nodded.

"Okay," she said.

"I love you Sloan. I wasn't sure that I could ever love again, after—well—after," I said. "But over these last few weeks, I have discovered that I can and I do." She smiled.

"Quinn, I have a confession to make," she said. "I'm almost forty. I have no children and I want them. I've been considering things for the past several months, and I thought; well, I thought that if you could unload the emotional baggage that you've been carrying around that you could be the one that I need for a husband and a father to our children.

"We are both on the back border of our child producing years; hence, I am kinda pushing it with you. Put another way, Quinn, I'm in a hurry. I know you've wanted me, and I'd almost gotten to the point of dragging you off to the parking lot and seducing you. I'd held back until now because of the baggage relating to your former wife and brother. But now… " I put my fingers to her lips stopping her in mid-sentence.

I went to my knees. Sloan Mackenzie, will you marry me?" I said.

Her smile was wide and her response affirmative. "Yes, my dear man," she said. "Yes, I will."

"Oh, and Quinn," she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"You probably got me pregnant last night." My turn to smile.

"Then we best get married mucho prontisimo," I said.

******

Thirteen years and I finally had a new woman, thank God; and a regular job that brought in a regular and not too bad paycheck—regular being the big change in the equation. Arthur Coolidge's garage and detail shop was made to order for a guy like me. Art was a con too. He'd not been real gentle with some guys that made a few hard core passes at his fiancé: actually, he'd beat the high holy shit out of them—all three of them. Two of them spent time in the hospital. Arthur, Art, spent eighteen months in the can as a result.

Art had had a mechanic, but the guy quit leaving him high and dry. Art was a good detail man, even an artistic one, but didn't know squat about engines or drive trains generally; I did. Twenty grand annual was good enough for me. A king's ransom it wasn't, but my place's rent was cheap at the apartment complex I'd found near the shop, and together we had more business than you could shake a stick at.

Art had all of the licenses and tools which I didn't anymore. But, l had my skills. Yeah, I know I could have brought down three times as much working for the asshole who called himself my brother; all I had to do was eat shit for the rest of my life. Well, excrement alfresco wasn't my kind of dish—sorry.

Anyway, I was almost a point where I could claim to be happy. I had a job, my own place, a fiancé who looked like she actually loved an old retread like me, and that was enough for me.

At any rate, did I miss what used to be my family? Sometimes. Well, I missed what I might have had, had I not had a brother who did me wrong and a wife who let him. Oh, and a kid who thought that they were all right in what they did if not exactly square with me. The good news for me? I was finally living and working in a place that didn't include any of my former family. But, that said, the universe is smaller than most people think, and coincidences happen all the time. The specific coincidence in question? His name, the coincidence's name, as I soon discovered was Roger Bolger.

"Yes sir," said the young man. "That's what I need. My girlfriend and I are getting married and I want my car to sparkle. It's my pride and joy." And well it should have been, I thought; it was a '55 Chevy Belaire.

"Okay," said Art. "No problem. Five hundred okay with you?" he said.

"That'd be good," said the young man. It was smiles all around. Oddly, though I didn't know the kid, he did seem to recognize me. But, he didn't say anything, so I chalked it up to middleagedness and let it go. But boy, was I the fuck wrong!

******

He was driving her Lincoln. She was leaning on his shoulder as he did so.

"My God, Roger, are you sure?" she said, and she said it languidly.

"Yes, I've seen his picture at your house, on the mantel every time I've been over. It's him all right. Older, but no doubt about it," he said. She sighed.

"You know I should be happy, thrilled. But it's been so long. He's never made any attempt to contact me. I just don't know," she said.

"His lawyer gave you his money for your college fund," he said. "He obviously cared about you."

"Hmm, maybe. He did then. But now?

"Would you go with me? I mean to see him?" she said. "I'm scared, Roger. He almost killed dad and went to jail for doing it. He might be violent with me too!"

"I'll go with you, honeybuns, I man if you need me too, but it would be better if you went alone. He's not going to hurt you. I think that that is a ridiculous idea. At worst he might tell you to get lost, but I doubt he'll do that either.

"Just go see the guy. If he shines you on, well, then he does and you can forget him," he said. "You know you should just tell your mom. Maybe she'll know what to do."

"Yes, I think that that's what I'll do. I do want her advice. Yes, that's what I will do," she said. They pulled into the restaurant's parking lot and headed inside.

******

"You look to be feeling down, husband mine," said Kimberly. Any good reason. He looked up surprise registering in that look.

"Uh—no. Nothing in particular. It's just—well—things are kind slow around here, quiet, since Sam moved in with her fiancé," said Henry.

"It is quiet around here," said Kimberly. She'd left unsaid what was even more obvious. It was quiet because almost no family came by anymore. The ghost of Quinn Harris was always a deterrent. Virtually all of the family had claimed to empathize with Kim and Henry. But, socializing with them, while Quinn was never heard from, seemed wrong.

"It's because of Quinn. Everybody's forgiven us, but nobody likes us very much. As far as I know he's not talked to anybody in the family for the past thirteen years except aunt Millie while he was inside," he said. "But, his ghost, his unpresence is felt by everyone. How do we overcome that?" he said. She sighed.

"Henry, we have to let it go. And—I have talked to aunt Millie. He's talked to her on rare occasions, but, not even her over these last few years; well, since he got out of that awful place," she said.

"You mean prison. The prison he went to because of me," said Henry. She looked down.

"Because of us, and more me than you, Henry," she said.

"Why didn't you tell me about him talking to aunt Millie?" he said.

"I don't know. I thought that we really didn't need any more meaningless problems over his decision to be gone. And, I didn't want to involve aunt Millie in our personal pain," she said.

"Yes, pain is what we got. We always have it. It is always under the surface even during the holidays when we are all supposedly happy and celebrating," he said.

"Henry, that's not true. We are happy! I'm happy. I need you to be happy too," she said. He smiled and took her in his arms. She didn't' see the look on his face, his dull eyes.

******

I recognized the car immediately as it pulled into the shop. And, I recognized the two women who exited the car and came toward me.

"Hello, dad," said Samantha. Her wingwoman? Why my fiancé Sloan Mackenzie.

"Hi, honey," said Sloan. I tendered them a tentative raised hand of greeting, but no immediate verbal response—yet. Well, I was "shocked" I think would be the word.

"Well, this is a surprise," I said in a flat if not actually a sarcastic tone.

"Honey, Sam has been searching for you and I guess her fiancé… " started Sloan.

"Her fiance?" I said. "So, you're getting married," I said. It was not a question.

"Yes, dad, I'm twenty-seven," she said. "It's time and I love the guy. His name is Roger, Roger Bolger. We've known each other since high school." I nodded.

"You called me dad. Whaddya calling the other guy?" I said. Of course I knew that long ago she'd started calling him dad too, a fact that rankled a lot.

"Dad," she said.

"So, you are still calling us both dad, but living with him and her," I said, also not a question.

"Dad we need to talk," said Samantha.

"Really? Why would that be?" I said, and that was a question.

"Dad!" she said. "This thing, you hiding out, has run its course. We need to reconnect. Okay!"

"But, you're still shacking up with them," I said, repeating myself.

"Honey," interjected my fiancé, "give her a listen. She's made her case to me, and it isn't too far out in left field."

"Hmm. Okay, Samantha, whaddya you propose. You know that any friend of the two of them is not friend of mine," I said.

"Including me dad?" said Samantha.

"Especially including you. You decided to hang with them and let his money buy you off, so yeah, you too," I said.

"You hate us, me, that much?" she said.

"Hate? No, the hate has died. I've found myself a new and better woman than your mother, certainly one that's more trustworthy. So, most of the emotional stuff is over with. But, the reality of what they did to me, and you too, is still the—well—reality," I said.

"Dad, I came here with the hope of healing those old wounds," she said. "It's been long enough."

"It has been a long time, Quinn," said Sloan.

"So, you willing to forget them and come live with me?" I said.

"Dad, I don't live there anymore. I have my own place, well, Roger and I do.

"Dad, Roger and I are getting married next month. I'd like you to be there. Walk me down the aisle. Make a new start with the extended family—and—well, and with mom and my other dad. I mean especially now since you're engaged to Sloan.

"I know I hurt you, all of us did. I want to start rebuilding our relationship and showing you that I—we—love you and need you. And, frankly dad, I think you need us too," said Samantha.

Ignoring her words for the moment, I asked the question. "Hmm, how does your other daddy feel about me walking you down the aisle. Gotta bother him some, I would guess," I said.

"Well… " started Samantha.

"Well, what? He's okay with it? I mean me taking his place at the start of your married life?" I said.

"Well, no, because I would like it if the both of you would walk me down the aisle; I mean together," she said. I could feel my mood cloud and my aspect darken.

"Leave," I said. "My answer is no. Either I'm your dad or he is. I am not into co-fathership—period. Tell the asshole that."

"Daddy! Please!" she said.

"You may have missed it," I said. She took on a mildly perplexed look.

"Missed what?" she said.

"The last time I saw your 'daddy', your other 'daddy'," I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster, "I got sent to prison for five years. You think I'm ever going to forget that!"

"Daddy…"

I walked off. I heard the two of them talking. Samantha animatedly and Sloan trying to calm her down and whatever.

I would be talking to Sloan later. I wasn't really angry with her, but I was a little upset that she'd let my daughter sandbag me like that.

******

I didn't see her, Samantha, again for some four months and then I did. Yes, she showed up at the shop, but this time sans her old teacher.

She was still driving the Lincoln. I put down the wrench I'd been using and picked up a rag and started wiping my hands clean of the worst of the crud that encased them.

She came to me. She was wearing sunglasses even though it was a dark, cloudy day and promised rain.

"Daddddyyy," she cried. There was something wrong.

"Samantha? What's wrong?" I said.

"My daddy, my other daddy, is dead," she said. Nothing, and I mean nothing, that she could have said could have prepared me, stopped me so cold in my tracks as those words. Henry Harris was dead!

"Mom needs to see you. She hopes you'll come," she said. She took a step toward me, but then she backed away and went to her car. I watched completely dumfounded. What to do? I called Sloan. I needed her and I needed her now. She was working: it was Tuesday and school was in session.

Sloan arrived in a little under fifteen minutes. I explained the situation. She guided me to her car, got me inside and drove.

"We, you, have to go see her. But, really we both do. I'll be there for you, so please just don't say or do anything crazy, Quinn. This is bad, and it's the kind of thing that people have to be sensitive to even if they don't exactly know how," she said.

"God! How glad I was that I had this woman on my side.

She guided me to the steps and up to the door. She knocked; I was still feeling numb. My ex-wife, dressed in black, answered almost immediately.

The three of us stared at each other. It occurred to me to wonder where Sam was, but I didn't ask, not right away.

"Thank you for coming, Quinn. I knew you would," said Kimberly. I nodded weakly. We all took seats in the front room.

"How? When?" I said, my voice flat, but not unsympathetic.

"He hanged himself, Quinn, yesterday evening. The pressure of these past years got to be too much. I saw the signs, but I didn't recognize them for what they were. And, now he's gone!" she burst into uncontrolled sobbing.

I didn't know what to do. Sloan went to her and held her. I just looked down. I was drained of every vestige of emotion, feeling. Henry Harris was dead. My brother, my betrayer, my archenemy, and again—my brother was dead and that by his own hand. How does one deal with something like that. Answer: one doesn't.

"Quinn… " somebody was calling to me.

"Huh?" I said. "What?" It was Kimberly. She had gained some control over herself, but Sloan was still supporting her.

"Quinn, there is something you have to see," she said.

"Huh? What?" I said, my tone was quizzical. Sloan was looking on but generally staying out of the maelstrom of grief and—confusion.

"I have a disc, a video. He left a note—message, but not a written one," she said.

"I'd heard her. I was finally with it. I didn't want to be, but I was. I nodded; how could I not. She stood and started walking toward another of the many rooms in the house. I'd learn later that they called it the library. Whatever, I thought.

I sat in the seat indicated by Kimberly. Sloan was in another to my right. Kimberly was to my left a bit farther away; I thought that that was significant.

My ex-wife wasted no time. She picked up the remote and clicked. Henry appeared on the largish screen seated behind a desk in what I assumed was his office in the house.

"Well, if you're all watching this, I must be gone," he said. "The age of technology; well, whaddya gonna do. It's better than writing a pen and paper letter, I guess.

"Quinn, this is mainly for you; well, for you and Kimberly. Kimberly, Kimberly, Kimberly my beloved—and once your beloved too Quinn.

"Quinn, I am mortally sorry for doing you like I did. I have no excuse, a reason maybe, but no excuse. The reason was that I adored Kimberly from the first moment I saw her. But, you were already with her, so breaking you up, or trying to in those long ago days, was a non-happening. Looking back now, I guess I should have; there would have been less pain; I'm sure of it. But, water under the bridge.

"And then, my unforgivable crime: I slept with her. And then there was Samantha, that wonderful girl. And, for fourteen years I suffered in silence while you got to be her daddy; and, you were a good daddy. Oh, how I envied you—and hated you for being in the way. And then you were not in the way anymore, and I was the hated one. Funny how hate goes when the issue that the hate was based on was no longer there.

"Maybe now that I'm gone, you will be able to abandon the hatred you have long held me in these past fourteen years. And yes, I know, given your time in prison, that even now that will be a tall order. Well, at any rate, one can hope.

"Kimberly loves you, believe it or not, even now. No, not as much as me. Kim; I know that, but you do hold a place in your heart for my brother, and I have known that since day one.

"Finally, Quinn, I know you have a new love: Sloan Mackenzie. I know her; she is a great gal. Don't let our history color your relationship with her. She deserves the best you've got, and the best you've got is pretty damn good.

"I love you all and hope and pray that all of you will be one family again, now that the bad guy has passed. Anyway…

"Goodbye," he said, and the screen went to snow.

I looked around. Everyone was stonyfaced. Kimberly clicked the remote and the screen went dark. A silence of several minutes ensued.

"Quinn, please follow me out back to the patio," said Kimberly. I looked over at Sloan who'd not uttered a word but clearly had been crying. Well, it was a sad moment. She nodded for me to obey my former wife. I rose and did as bade.

******

There was a cabana a few yards distant, but neither of us sat. We stood in the glow of the afternoon sun and looked at each other.

"Quinn, I would appreciate it if you would please, you and Sloan, would rejoin the family. The war is over, the war we both declared so long ago when our divorce was yet in the offing. Whaddya say?" she said.

"Yes, done," I said. "Anything else?" She shrugged.

"Yes, maybe," she said. "A little clearing of the air."

"Okay, I guess."

"I met you first, Quinn, and then I met your brother. The two of you were tight, anyone could see that. So, I married you and joined the family. Make no mistake; I learned to love you. You were a good man and a good husband to me. But, Quinn…"

"Yes?" I said.

"I should never have married you. I belonged to Henry from the first day I saw him. It just took fourteen years for me to realize it and for he and I to get together. We did it wrong; we did it too late; we destroyed the lives of several people, and complicated those of many more; but, in the end, I had to do it, he and I had to do it," she said.

"I guess," I said, very quietly. She nodded.

"One last thing, Quinn. Neither Sam nor aunt Millie are to see the video we just saw that's why they weren't here today. Henry did leave a written note for my eyes alone: basically instructions as to how to present what you saw today; well, and some stuff concerning he and I only. It's his will that Sam remember him as a good man, and yes, a good daddy too. I hope you can live with that reality, Quinn, because as I see things you need to. Okay?" she said. I nodded, but did not say anything else. Life would go on, and that was the long and the short of it.

******

Sloan and I did marry. Sam visited us a lot and yes a lot was said between she and I about her other daddy. Henry had been right about one thing: the hate within me died with him. What did I learn? I learned that hate born of what other people do to one, should never be; the cost is way too high.

-----------------------------

   Series:Rachel and Daniel Killingsworth
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A simple guy is challenged to keep his wife at home.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/73891/rachel-and-daniel-killingsworth
Published:2013-04-14
It's Saturday, 9:00AM, the next town over from ours, to the south-Centerville. I was watching her and some asshole coming out of a motel room. She was looking really well fucked, I thought. She'd stayed the whole night. I'd not objected to her being gone since she was supposedly on a business related overnighter. She'd had several of those in recent months; now I had to wonder if all of the business wasn't monkey business.

I put my camera away. I'd gotten all I needed after she'd gotten in the car with him. I was where I was to see what I was seeing because of a tip I'd gotten via an anonymous email.

The tipster had proven accurate right enough: my wife was here, at the Starlite Motor Lodge, and she was here, with a man not her husband-I know this because I'm her husband, and it wasn't me she was with. And, she sure as hell shouldn't have been here doing what she was undoubtedly doing. I love my wife, but if what my eyes were telling me indeed turned out to be what it sure as hell looked like; then, the fact that I loved her may be irrelevant in any event.

******

My dear wife at age thirty-six-our common age-is a nice looking woman: tall, blond, and well endowed. She is likewise possessed of a great personality and a high degree of intelligence. She and I have been happily married, or so I thought, for the past twelve years.

We do fine economically. I own a small catering and entertainment business: Food and Fun for All Occasions. Rachel Killingsworth nee Hightower, my wife, is a college graduate-I'm not. She works for Schneider and Holcomb Advertising; she designs ad campaigns for businesses and a few non-profit organizations. Our salaries are comparable, which fact may become a useful defense in the very possible divorce action that I am currently considering.

I met Rachel at her sister's wedding, the lady's third try, so I later discovered. I was catering the affair; Rachel was Glenda's maid of honor. Glenda is of course now my sister-in-law. Rachel and I hit it off that day, and I'd had the brass cajones to ask her out on a date even though I was servicing the party: usually mixing business with personal stuff is never a good idea; but hell, it was damn near love at first sight.

******

I pulled out and onto the highway. I had a sixty mile run to make it home before she did. Well, I assumed she was going to go home.

I pulled into the driveway, parked my car in the garage, and went inside. I immediately headed for the den and the mini-bar it harbored. Two martinis later I heard the garage door opener engage; it was her. Hmm, she hadn't dallied long in getting home from her dirty little tryst. I'd been hammer down most of the way back, and I'd only beaten her by maybe three-quarters of an hour. Well, she did have dinner to cook for us.

"Oh, you're here in the den," she said.

"Yeah, it's where the bar is," I said.

"You're building martinis this time of day?" She seemed genuinely surprised. Maybe because it wasn't beer: my usual mid-day choice of refreshment.

"Yeah, I felt the need for something a little stronger than the usual four percent stuff," I said.

"Daniel? Something wrong?" she said.

"Yeah, you could say that," I said. Her look was a question, but she didn't voice it.

"I just wonder what I did to make you want to fuck somebody else behind my back," I said.

"What did you say?"

"I was just wondering if it was something I did that influenced you to shack up with that guy at the Starlite today."

"Daniel Killingsworth! How dare you!" she said. I reached behind a throw-pillow on the couch I was sitting on. I dialed up one of the photos I'd taken. It was of her kissing the guy after they were in the car. The pic was unusually good for one taken at some little range and through the front windshield. There was no doubt about who it was. Well it was a good camera.

"Will this be enough to cut through the bullshit, so we can get down to brass tacks," I said. She looked at the photograph and realized she was dead meat.

She looked me askance. "A tip by someone who either likes me or doesn't like you. Don't know for sure. It was anonymous. Anonymous, but accurate wouldn't you say?" I said.

"Okay, Daniel, you got me. So what now?" she said.

"Is that it?" I said. "That's all you've got to say to me?" I felt unusually calm for someone whose marriage was imploding. I knew the feeling would only be temporary.

"Whaddya want me to say?" she said. "Don't expect me to wring my hands in despair. You caught me, and knowing you, there will be no forgiveness or opportunities for a second chance, so I'm not going to waste my time begging for it. So, just let's get on with it whatever 'it' is going to be." I nodded.

"Pretty cold for someone I thought to be a faithful and loving wife. A wife I have to admit always acted the part of the true and caring spouse. Anyway, I would have expected a little more than what you're 'not' offering today. But, well, maybe this is the real you. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe now I won't have to feel bad about dumping your whoring ass," I said. She winced a little when I described her as a whore. She sighed.

"For the record, Daniel, I do love you. I love you a lot. I also love Gabriel, not as much as you, and in a different way; but I love him too. Now, I'm caught with my pants down; you'll pardon the analogy. I know you're going to divorce me, and I know he'll take care of me when you're gone. So, while I will likely shed a few tears over you soon enough; I'll be getting on with my life," she said. "You need to also."

"This Gabriel, married?" I said. She gave me a look.

"Divorced," she said. I smiled, but it was a sardonic smile. I'd be checking to see if she were lying or ignorant of the truth whatever the truth might turn out to be. I doubted she was either lying or ignorant, but one could hope.

"Okay, you don't wanna try? It's over. I'll call a lawyer in the morning. You sleep in the guestroom tonight," I said. She gave me a look.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you implying that there might be a way out for us-for me?" she said.

"Don't know, you apparently don't want one, a way out I mean, at least not bad enough to try, so no, I guess not," I said. She started pacing.

"Daniel Killingsworth, I know you. You hate women, and men either for that matter, who cheat on their spouses. I'm a cheater; I admit it. So, that has to mean you hate me. Ergo, a divorce is the logical step. Now, am I wrong about any of this?" she said.

"I don't hate anyone, Rachel. I hate what people do to each other sometimes, and adultery is right up there at the top of the list. The hurt that things like what you have done to me is of the worst kind. Still, again, I don't hate anyone, and I don't hate you. But, again, I do hate what you did to me. And, no matter what happens now, I'm gonna be doing a lot of crying and wringing of my hands even if you don't plan on wringing yours," I said.

"I don't want a divorce Dan. I don't," she said. "And, I am sorry that I hurt you. I would never want such a thing. Please accept my apology for that at least even if in the end you decide to dump me."

"You said you love me more than the other guy. What if I said that my condition for forgiving and forgetting was you breaking it off with him?" I said. She took on a strange-maybe thoughtful-expression.

"Why?" she said.

"Why what?" I said.

"Why would you make me do that? If I am reading you right, my fucking him isn't the end of the world for us. And if that is indeed the case, why would it be all that awful if I continued to see Gabriel? He hasn't hurt us in any real way the way I see it. And, I do care for him if not as much as I do for you. I don't want to hurt him either.

"Jesus, I do sound self-serving as hell, don't I. I wish, I hope, I can make you see where I'm coming from, Dan. But, anyway, to answer your question, you're right. If you make me choose, I choose you. I mean if you even are granting me a choice here," she said.

"You know, Rachel, I really never did know you did I? I mean you're coming up with stuff right now that I would have thought unthinkable an hour ago. Hell, they're still unthinkable. And yet, I'm inclined to think about them. Go figure.

"Get him on the phone now. Tell him I discovered you, I'm not happy, and the two of you have to cool it for a while," I said.

She hesitated.

"Just until I decide whether to buy into your idea of making me a willing cuckold, or to dump your cheating butt. I am requiring that there is to be no communication between you and him, that is, other than this call which I will be listening in on, until I decide what I'm going to do. Of course, if you decide to choose him over me after all… well… " I said.

"Daniel, from where I stand, I am seeing a side of you I didn't know was there. I-we-need to think, and to talk. I want to keep seeing my other man on the side. I know that it sounds crazy. But, if you can see your way clear to let me-well-things would be very very good for you, for the both of us," she said. "But, I will make the call. Maybe it'll serve a good secondary purpose."

"Secondary purpose?"

"Yes, you'll likely hear him say things about you that will lessen the hurt I've put on you. I hope so at least." She nodded and headed for the desk phone across from us. I went into the kitchen to pick up the phone there. I would hear it all.

He picked up on the third ring. I had to guess he lived in Centerville, but I'd know as soon as I checked with the phone company as to the numbers she dialed.

"Hi."

"Well, hi back atcha. Kinda surprised you called. I mean…"

"Yes, yes, I know. We just left each other. Gabe, he knows. He caught us today, and he's got pictures."

"Jesus, what is he going to do!"

"Not sure. Maybe dump me, maybe make me choose between him and you. Don't know yet."

"Oh my. You gonna stay with him if he breaks us up. I mean we have three years invested in each other, Rachel." I almost broke in on them with that little revelation, but I didn't.

"Yes, I know. But Gabe, we talked about this. You-we-always knew it could happen."

"I guess. I know he's a good guy and everything. But…"

"He is a good guy, Gabe. And, he's hurt right now, and we-I-hurt him. I think too he's confused by it all. Hell, I'm confused by it all."

"How about plan B? Would he go for it? I mean we talked about that too."

"Him being a willing cuckold? I don't know. It isn't his idea of a good idea. I did kinda put it to him. He might give it some thought, but him go for it? I just don't know. He probably doesn't even know himself at this point."

"Rachel, if he dumps you. You know I have a place for you here in Centerville. And, I know you still love him; we'll make the divorce as painless for him as possible if he does-I mean even if he does dump you. I mean I really do know you love the guy too…"

"There is no painless divorce, Gabe. They're all painful and that to the nines. But, I understand what you're saying.

"Gabe, we're going to have to cool it for a while at the minimum. I will let you know if I can… if we can…"

"Okay, I understand. Love you."

"Love you too, Gabe."

She hung up rather slowly, wistfully. I hung up right behind her. For my part I had a lot to think about, as did she I was sure. I came back into the den and nodded at her.

"Three years! Three fucking years, Rachel!" I said. "I had no clue. I must be the dumbest of the dumb, right, Rachel?" I was fuming, but under control-barely.

"Daniel I…"

"Forget it. Okay, we'll think on all of this. We can talk tomorrow. I need a break here. I need a break real bad." Her turn to nod. Her look told me she was twisted up inside hoping she could salvage things.

"Make us dinner, Rachel. I'm hungry," I said. She smiled, again, wistfully-no hopefully. I didn't smile. I didn't because I didn't know what I was going to do. Who would have known at that moment what to do? Historical and hysterical examples of how to deal with cheaters notwithstanding; I liked to think I was at least somewhat more civilized than the barbarian burn the bitch crowd.

We, Rachel and I, are living in Ohio; one of the more civilized locales as far as I'm concerned. My brother, Henry, who resides in West Virginia would have raped and murdered her-and her lover too! Henry is something of a backwoods redneck: ex-army, utterly unforgiving of cheating of any kind. A chicken farmer since mustering out of the arm, Henry might well be described as one who was solitary, poor, nasty, brutal; and, whose life would likely be short-apologies to Thomas Hobbes. He and his compadres were for sure an interesting lot.

Having heard her lover in conversation with her, I could at least reasonably accept that he wasn't an arrogant sonovabitch. Still all of the above being true, I came to the conclusion that me being his willing cuckold, or hers, was not gonna be happening? The very thought of it was way beyond the pale-way beyond it?

******

Gabe Hubbard was a lawyer, as I soon found out: handsome, tall, forty-one, good in bed, and kinda mild mannered. I learned all of this because she told me. The morning after conversation that we'd had had been very detailed. After the fact, I kinda wished I'd let sleeping dogs lie.

I was by no means chopped liver, not to my mind. But this guy was almost outta my league in every way but one: I made more money than he did, almost twice as much. I made really good bucks, and so did Rachel. But apart from the money, I couldn't compete with this guy on almost any level. I was five-nine, but he was six-four. I wasn't college educated, and he was; and as I mentioned, so was Rachel. As for my bedroom skills: Rachel didn't exactly say it, but I could tell, I didn't measure up. Still, I didn't know if any of what I'd learned was going to be a deal breaker, but I had to think that it might be. Anyway, we'd soon see. That because I was going to ask her to break it off with him. I had decided that I just couldn't do the willing cuckold thing; the thought was just too humiliating.

******

We had one of the two person tables at the Red Hat that one finds at some of the higher class bistros that the Red Hat was one of. We'd just gotten done boogying around the floor. The perspiration was running down both of our faces.

"Still think you need this Gabriel guy to make your day," I said. I was feeling pretty confident. She gave me a pensive look.

"Need? No. Like to have? Yes," she said.

"Well, I've been thinking about it. About your proposal. I've decided that I can't do it. Rache, you've gotta choose. I just can't get my head around being your cuckold. I can see my way clear to forgive and forget, but share you with another man? Can't do it," I said. She nodded.

"I was afraid you'd choose to go that way," she said. "I've done some thinking too."

"And?" I said.

"I've decided to keep you both. I know you won't…"

"That won't fly… " I started after interrupting her.

"Please, let me finish; then, you can say whatever it is that you need to. Okay?" she said. I spread my hands in a get-on-with-it gesture.

"Danny, you have two options. Option number one: you can accept my proposal to be my number one, and I mean in everything; Gabe will always be sucking hind titty when it comes to our lives together. You'll get all of the sex you want, one hundred percent of the cuddling at night. One hundred percent of the conversation at the breakfast table every morning. If we have children, something I've wanted to talk to you about by the way, they'll have our parents' names, yours and mine, not Gabe's or any of his relatives. Well, you get the picture. Like I said you'll be my undisputed number one in every possible way."

"And, your wimpy assed cuckold," I said. She snickered her frustration with my interruption.

"And my second option?" I said, not waiting for her to counter my remark. She sagged back a little on her stool.

"Option two is you'll divorce me, and I'll fight it. Economically, that would be a nuisance for me and a disaster for you. Additionally, if it even matters, he'll be the one cuddling up with me at night, sharing conversation with me over the breakfast table in the morning; and, eventually, probably, having my children.

"Okay, I'm done," she said. "Your turn."

"So it's either the life of a humiliated cuckold or-your words-financial and familial ruin for me," I said. "Helluva choice."

"You would never be humiliated or insulted by me or Gabe, Danny; I promise you that. Nor would you ever be inconvenienced in any way. And a cuckold? Yes, you are and you would remain my cuckold. But, when you get right down to it; it's only a word. It's only a word and would have no meaning of consequence as far as Gabe or I were concerned," she said.

"Really?" I said. "Well, it would for me."

"Yes, really," she said. "And, it, being my cuckold, would only have meaning, even for you, in some meaningless, abstract, guy world. I respect you, Danny; and I think you know that.

"So please, tell me what I can do to make my proposal palatable for you," she said.

"Yes. Well, call Gabe, and have him come over here. You can dance and party with him for a bit if you like, and that will give me an opportunity to get my stuff and move out of the house," I said. Her face took on a surprised look.

"That's all you've got to say?" she said. "You're opting to divorce me?"

"Yes." I stood, smiled, and stared at her hard. "I didn't like your take it or leave it threats, Rachel. No real man would. Hence, this farce of a marriage just ended. Have a miserable life," I said. I headed out without paying. She'd likely have to be calling her fuck buddy for a ride.

I had secretly cleansed her wallet of all of her credit cards and all but three dollars cash before we left to come here to the Red Hat. I knew, suspected, no knew, that tonight was going to be decision night. It had been her idea for us, she and I, to go out have a great time-and we had had a great time-to demonstrate, as I guessed, what I'd be missing if I were to select her option two.

At any rate, I didn't know how long I'd have to get the hell out of the house, so I burned up the road getting home.

I was home, packed, and rolling in fifty-four minutes. As I rolled out they were rolling in: I recognized his Lexus; I'd ID'd it at the motel that day a week gone. At any rate, I'd just made it. She had to have seen me, but as luck or design would have it, they didn't follow me.

I was pulling into the Sunset motel lot just as my cell went off. It was her.

"Hello," I said.

"You're being childish," she said.

"You're being a whore. The two things cancel each other out," I said.

"Look, come home and we can talk this over. There has to be a way that we can make this work. Whaddya say?" she said.

"No, your arrogance has gotten my back up. Let me ask you. Is he there? I mean right now?" I said.

"Yes, he was my ride home. You left me stranded and penniless," she said.

"Are you going to fuck him?" I said.

"Not if you come home. If you do that, I'll fuck you? Fair enough?" she said. I smiled.

"For real?" I said.

"Yes," she said. I could be home in ten minutes.

"Okay, tell him to hightail it. I'll be there in ten minutes," I said.

"All right. I'll be waiting," she said. Short shanking their plans, no doubt their plans, to fuck was worth me reconsidering my immediate reaction to her arrogance.

"It took me twenty minutes to get home; Well, I'd decided to register and take the motel room for a week just in case.

******

I was ten minutes late, but I guess she'd decided not to make an issue of it. She came to me and planted a very sensual kiss on my love starved lips. "Just for openers," she said.

"Make us a drink," I said. "I need a drink." She smirked.

"Whatever," she said. She poured us each a glass of wine: burgundy, my favorite. It was obvious that she was trying to soften her brutal ultimatums of earlier that evening.

"Look," she said, "about what I said before. I was unnecessarily cruel, yes, and arrogant. It is true that I want to keep on seeing Gabe. And, it is equally true, that I want to have your permission to do so. But, what is not true in any way shape or form is that I want you to be dissatisfied with whatever I-we-do."

"Well, then dump the asshole and stick with me. You'll not only be better off; you'll be happier. I mean what can he do for you that I can't? I mean really, what has he got that I don't have or can't get?" I said. "Let me answer my own question: nothing."

She sagged back in the seat she'd chosen at the dinette table. I was standing, but leaning back against the credenza across room her. She took a sip of the wine; I followed suit.

"He's a star in bed, Danny. Really, kinda nonpareil," she said.

"Really, and what am I, chopped liver?" I said.

"Heck no, you're good too. Very good actually, but…"

"But, not as good as him? That it?" I said.

"Truth, Danny? Nobody is. He's the best I ever had. I mean the very best. And, again, that's no slam at you. But, he's got a nine inch dick and he makes me cry the orgasms are so good. I can't even explain it adequately," she said.

"Well, even though clearly I am never going to be better than second best-nine inches you say?" I said. "Well, second best just has to be good enough or I'm outta here. Hell, the silver medal is chicer anyway," I said.

She fidgeted. "Danny, how about you join us. Do the threesome thingy," she said.

"No,"

"But…"

"No, it's either him or me. If it takes a nine inch dick to light your fire, I'm getting outta here since I clearly will never be able to measure up in that department. My five-very thick five-inches is what I got, and if it's not enough for you then sayonara," I said.

She started pacing. She was looking for a way out of the dilemma that she'd brought on herself. She decided to lie. And, I decided to believe her lie, sort of.

"Okay. If I can't get you to lighten up, I will give up Gabe. I choose you," she lied. It was so obviously a lie that I had to go along with it for a while; it amused me. If I had it right, she was giving me a chance to save a little face, and still keep her lover on the side, knowing that I knew that was what she was doing. Weird, but, I figured at the least she'd likely be cutting back on her activities, and paying more attention to me and my needs. Weird!

"Okay. Call him now while I'm here. I want to hear you tell him to get lost," I said.

"Please, Danny, I need to do it face to face with him. It'd be cruel to just call him up and dump on him over the phone. Please?" she said. More bullshit, I knew, but I decided to carry out my plan regardless. Okay, I was playing along; I figured it was to my advantage at this stage.

"Okay. Go to him now. But, get back here before the cock crows 9:00PM," I said. I'd given her two hours. If she were going to fuck him it'd have to be a quickie. She nodded, and headed for the door. She grabbed her sweater on the way out, and, her purse.

I was pretty sure I'd be able to tell if he fucked her. I mean a nine inch weapon of lust? Oh yeah.

******

"He didn't go for it?" said Gabriel.

"No, I was sure he would, maybe grudgingly, but I was sure he would. But, no, he didn't

"I know now that I came on too strong. I essentially gave him an ultimatum. A proud man, a proud man like Daniel Killingsworth, doesn't deal with ultimatums too good," she said. He nodded.

"So where does that leave us," he said. She laughed, but it was a sardonic laugh.

"Where we started, sneaking around. And we have to be real good at it. I'm sure he knows I lied when I told him I was giving you up. I let him have that one; it's how he's going to be able to save face. He'll be able to pretend he won the day, and I'll be suitably humble in letting him think so. Rubbing his nose in it will get us to divorce court so fast he'll be leaving skid marks on the asphalt," she said.

"Jesus, I was so hoping we could stop all of the sneaking around, but what is, is, I guess," said Gabriel.

"Yes, me too, but it's not to be," she said. "We've just got to hope that an opportunity will present itself that might bring him around to a-what-more reasonable way of looking at things.

"Yeah, reasonable would be good. I hope you've got your prayer beads handy," he said.

"Yeah for real," she said. "Anyway, I've got to get back. I have a nine o'clock curfew." He nodded.

"Yeah, I can dig it. Anyway, here's hoping," he said, as he poured and then raised a stem glass of white wine to her. He sipped it, and handed it to her to do likewise.

******

Well, she didn't get back at nine o'clock; she got back at 8:25. I was a little surprised. But, whatever, I had to rate it as a good omen. Maybe she had dumped the guy, finally. No, that kind of wishful thinking was a loser.

The next several weeks were good ones in my estimation. She was always home when she should have been. No mention was made of his Gabrielship during the whole time. And, our sex and love per se were top drawer.

"Why don't we go out tonight," I said, on the seventh Friday following her supposed split with the interloper.

"Can't tonight, hon, got a date with Marian Walsh from the office. We've been tasked with putting together a presentation for some selected clients. If it goes well, there might be a bonus in it for me," she said.

"Oh, okay, I guess I'll try to put together a pickup game of pool somewhere. Maybe the Starlighter," I said.

"Sounds good. Have fun," She said.

I suppose her "have fun" remark was emblematic of our unstated recognition of the fact that I was allowed to have a little recreation myself so long as I was being so tolerant and understanding of her "on the side" activities. Well, that was my reasoning.

I actually did try to set up a little pool and beer fest at the Starlighter lounge. But, as fate would dictate, neither Arnie nor Reggie, my best pool shooting buds and my crew when I catered a party, were available, so I decided just to eat out, at the Gallantry, and maybe catch a flick. What I caught sight of was a whole different kettle of fish.

They were sitting real close together. He didn't actually have his hand up her dress, but he did have it resting quite familiarly on her thigh. I knew of course that she was planning on fucking him. And, as indicated several times heretofore, she knew I knew she was going to be fucking him. But seeing them together… I had to get outta there.

All of a sudden my marriage was over; seeing them the way they were brought it home to me. But, now I had a problem. How to get out of the restaurant without them seeing me and causing a scene. Problem was, there was no way. I rose, began to stride out-and I mean stride. She saw me, uttered an "oh my God," and intercepted me before I'd gotten twenty feet.

"Daniel, I thought… " she started.

"The boys couldn't make it. I decided to get a bite to eat at a nice restaurant. I didn't know you and him…"

"Daniel, this is embarrassing. Look, I think I know what you're feeling-thinking. I know you must have seen him-us. Please come and join us; it's time you met the man. Then, well then, you and I will go home and do what we do best. Okay. Please, Daniel," she said.

I looked around. No one was paying particular attention to us. Decision time. I either rolled outta there or joined the two of them.

"What and ruin your plans for the evening-his plans?" I said. I was only barely not being sarcastic.

"You've ruined them before, and Gabe knows that anytime there's a conflict, you get the nod not him," she said. "It's the deal you and I tacitly made. Yes, yes, I know we never actually said anything or set anything in stone, but… " I nodded. "And Danny, I have never compromised our-tacit-deal or ever planned to renege on it. And. I am not reneging on it now." All of a sudden I wasn't quite as angry as I had been.

"All right then, if you're sure that's what you want," I said.

"I'm more than sure it's what I want my husband. Gabe's a nice guy, and he's good at some things, but you're number one. I'm not sure, but I think that this might be a really lucky happenstance, an opportunity. Really," she said. She had me by the hand and was pulling my not too resisting person toward their table.

He stood as we neared the table. "Good evening mister Killingsworth," he said. I nodded my acknowledgement of his greeting. Neither of us were offering to shake hands.

For her part, Rachel seated me and took the seat beside mine and across from him. I'm not sure what he must've been thinking, but I'm sure it must have upset him that it was my hand now resting on my wife's thigh-obviously resting on it. She gave me a look when I put it there, but didn't try to remove it or even look like she would liked to have had me remove it. She was making all of the right moves.

"Well, here we are all together, meeting. It's unplanned, but possibly a good thing. Jesus, I hope so!" she said.

"Look, like you say, Rache, this is an accident. Why don't I just leave and you two stay and have a nice evening. The food and the ambiance is really great here," said Gabriel Hubbard.

"No!" said Rachel. "We will eat together and talk and settle a few things maybe. Whaddya say, Danny?" I shrugged.

"I guess," I said. "For the moment, I'm easy. But…"

"There'll be no bullshit, Dan. This is a chance for us to get some things clarified if that's the way top say it, and maybe dump some misconceptions. Okay?" she said.

"Okay," I said.

"If that's what you want, Rache. And if your good with it too, mister Killingsworth," he said. I nodded.

"You can call me Dan," I said. Too many syllables in my last name to be using it all night." He let loose a small laugh. Rachel relaxed. This was her show, and so far the players were on cue following her stage directions.

"Okay. Shall we order?" said Rachel.

"Fine with me," I said. Gabriel's turn to nod.

We ate, Talk turned to the Red Sox for a bit, a line of conversation that even Rachel, who was from then East Coast, was able to contribute to. And then the drinks arrived and the elephant in the room began to trumpet.

I dabbed a little sauce from my lips and settled back. I smiled. "So, Gabriel, you'd doubtless planned to fuck her tonight. Right?" I said. "Fuck Rachel, my wife."

"Yes," he said. "She's the best."

"No argument from me on that one. She says you're the best. I'm pretty good, she assures me, but you evidently have few if any equals," I said. He looked over at his lover.

"Really?" he said. "You told your husband that? I don't know whether to be flattered or worried."

"Flattered," I said. "Rachel and I have a-tacit-agreement, I guess," I said, looking straight at her. Now, I was being ever so slightly sarcastic. "So long as she keeps to it. Well…"

"Danny!" said Rachel, noting my tone.

"Never mind, never mind," I said. "So what now?" Rachel smiled.

"We talk," she said. Nobody said anything. The table was silent. I broke the impasse.

"What is there to talk about?" I said.

"Look, Dan, I'm in lust with your wife. You know it. Once in a while she lets me do her. Tonight was going to be one of those nights. And, well, now that that's out of the question, I may as well go home; and leave you two to do whatever," he said. Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Or?" she said, looking straight at me. I looked a question at her.

"Or what?" I said. She eyed me, clearly weighing the wisdom of saying whatever it was she was wanting to say.

"Or we do something else first. I mean before you and I adjourn to our bedroom at home," she said.

"Something else?" I said. Gabriel spread his hands in a "what" gesture. Both he and I had raised eyebrows. Neither of us had a clue about what she was trying to say-then he did.

"The three of us?" he said first. Rachel smiled, this time broadly.

"A threesome? Is that what you're thinking," I said.

"It'd be fun," she said. "But, it's up to you, dear."

I was something; I just didn't know what. I wasn't really angry. Like she'd made clear, I knew what she had planned to do. I knew too that when she got home, I'd be treated to a really good night of outrageous sex. But-with him?

"What the hell, we can always leave if it isn't to my liking. Right, Rachel? And I do mean 'we' leave?" I said.

"Yes absolutely," she said.

"You have a room yet?" I said.

"I got it yesterday," said Gabriel. "So, yes, we have a room. Number 313: it's a pretty good one too, and I loaded it up for tonight. I came in earlier today to make sure everything was ship shape if you know what I mean." He clearly wasn't mincing his words or trying to sugarcoat anything. I actually appreciated his candor; Well, I think I did.

We paid and headed upstairs. Rachel had me by the hand leading me. In the elevator, Gabriel did have his arm around her waist. She continued to hold my hand on her other side.

Getting off the elevator, he led the way: he had the key card.

We entered the room. It was actually chilled down pretty good. He'd obviously turned on the aircon earlier in the day. I saw what he meant by his "preparing the room" remarks. There was a new tube of KY on the bedstand, and next to that, a package of Trojans. Two towels were on the chair nearest the bed. On the dresser was a small player and a couple of CDs that flanked that. Yeah, he was ready. I walked over to the player and checked out the CDs-Sinatra. He saw my expression.

"What can I say," he said. "I like soft jazz and old blue eyes is pretty good at it. We could listen to the radio-or-nothing," he said. I smirked, he was trying his best to not be threatening.

"No, no, I like jazz myself, and Sinatra is among the best, especially his older stuff," I said. He smiled.

"I have a feeling that you and I might be able to get along okay," he said. "I mean in spite of the obvious-well-thing." I didn't say anything. But the fact was, that much as I wanted to kick his ass outta the room and have my wife to myself, I was discovering that I liked the guy. As one might have said he went from being mister asshole to mister okay-guy in less than a half an hour. I could see why Rachel, my Rachel, wanted him and his oversized cock. The next while would tell me just how much she wanted him and if in fact she and I were going to make it long term.

Rachel had gone into the bathroom. We looked at each other. I was still holding one of the Sinatra CDs in my hand. He motioned me to put it on if I wanted; I did.

He wandered over to the player to adjust the sound level.

"You gonna be first?" he said. He was looking at me intently. "I mean how do you want to play it, I mean her."

"I'm kinda new at this threesome thing. You tell me," I said.

"She'll be out in a few," he said. One of us can sit in that chair and watch the other do her, and then trade places. Or, we can both take her at the same time if you get my drift.

The one who fucks her second will be getting sloppies. So, I mean if you'd like, I have no problem with getting yours. I've done it with other women and their boyfriends in the past. But, I'm leaving this one up to you. She is your property when it comes to this stuff for sure," he said.

I pulled out a coin. "Call it in the air," I said, and I flipped it.

"Tails," he said. It was tails.

"You get her first," I said. He nodded.

"You want her to blow you while I do her from behind?" he said. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said.

Just then she emerged from the bathroom. She was totally naked and ultimately beautiful. I know I was breathing hard just from seeing her. "You guys conspiring as to how you're going to do me?" she said, she was clearly just barely not giggling.

"Kinda," I said.

"Yeah, kinda," echoed Gabriel.

"Well, if you've come to a decision, I'm of the opinion that one or both of you should be getting naked kinda like now," she said.

We both started stripping. I was studiously avoiding looking at his cock. My cock was unusually thick, but a bit on the short side of average. His was, reportedly, that is reported to me by Rachel, to be almost twice mine in length. I was hoping to not be suffering too much in comparison. Well, that was my hope.

"Okay, who is going to do me first," she said.

"I'll be taking you from behind and you'll be taking Dan from the front," said Gabe, smiling.

"Oh my, kinky," said Rachel.

Gabe nodded for me to get on the bed at the head. I spread my legs wide waiting for her to take her place in front of me. She did and raised her butt high with her knees spread wide for her assailant to mount her.

In doggy position she looked into my eyes, and mouthed the words: "Thank you my husband." She took hold of my cock and began licking it and slathering her spittle over its length and the mass of my more than filled up ball sac.

Gabe knelt behind her and bent forward. He spread her butt cheeks with his fingers and began licking and sucking at her pussy and anus. She mooed as she sucked on my cock and the sensation of her doing so sent me over the top. She swallowed it all and licked me clean as the master cocksman continued to drill her femaleness from behind. I felt her shudder. She was cumming and she kept on cumming as he did her. I saw him stiffen and his face took on an almost pained expression as he unloaded his seed into her. The trojans had not been used.

He fell forward onto her back. She let my cock fall from her mouth and its ministrations. For a moment she raised her head and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Thank you so very much, my husband," she whispered. I knew that Gabriel Hubbard had not heard her. He now lay panting and half dead, I was sure, across the foot of the bed.

For the moment we all rested. Rachel had flattened out and was resting her head between my still spread wide thighs.

We'd only had one go 'round and the room already stank of sex.

Gabe headed for the bathroom. She and I were left alone.

"Was that good for you, Danny? Please tell me it was good for you," she said.

"Yes," I said. I wasn't quite panting.

"It's your turn, my darling," she said. "Fuck me good. I need you to fuck me very very good."

"You are going to get my very best. Bank on that," I said. Gabriel emerged from the bathroom and without a word traded places with me on the bed.

"You can have my butt if you want, honey," said Rachel. "Your choice."

I looked at the tube of KY on the bedstand. I knew her butt would be tighter than her pussy. If I waited to take her back there, it might be a bit harder than the swamp I was sure her pussy was and was going to be. I decided to accept her offer. I retrieved the KY and lathered her and myself up good.

I didn't see her wink at Gabriel, but I saw him wink back at her which clued me to what she'd done. The two of them were cultivating me, not exactly conspiring, but intent, I was sure, on making me want to come back for more. Well, and about that the jury was still out, but there was no doubt, that right then, I'd have to have said that they were ahead on points. And that kind of bothered me, but not enough to stop the program. Oh no, I was going to get my fair share of this little tableau, oh yeah.

I fucked her and she sucked him, and that back to life. He took her again, missionary, while I lay beside her kissing her and playing with her titties.

I was able to get it up for a third cum, no easy task for me either. I took her missionary just as he did. It took me a while to make it too. Not because I'd already cum twice, but because she was so stretched it was hard to get friction. I was a bit thicker than he was, but I suppose his strokes, as long as they were, nine inches worth, entered into it. But, be that as it may, she wasn't complaining, not at all. No, she was screaming by the time I unloaded my final flood into her. Phony maybe, the screams, but at the least they added to the general ambiance. What did bother me though, and there was no getting around it, was the size of his dick. His dwarfed mine, and it bothered me; it bothered me a lot.

I collapsed on top of her and just lay there for a full minute.

"Honey, you gotta let me breathe," she said, finally complaining about me laying on top of her. I rolled off of her for the moment content.

The three of us sacked out for the night in the hotel room and slept like babies. What was a little odd was the lack of conversation relative to anything that wasn't pretty much covered by the lowest level of Maslow's hierarchy.

We dressed and went down to breakfast at a bit past 8:00AM. Finished eating, Rachel looked at me and smiled.

"Honey, I'm going to walk Gabriel to his car. I'll be right back, okay?" she said. I nodded. I supposed that she had to thank him for doing his duty the night before and not doing anything untoward to upset the applecart.

I nursed a second cup of coffee during the ten minutes it took her to return. When she did, she was all smiles.

What did you say to him? I mean you took a little time out there," I said. She smirked.

"I thanked him for making last night a good experience for us. I know you enjoyed yourself too. Can I ask, are we good? You think that maybe we could do it again?" she said. I stirred the contents of my almost empty cup.

"Maybe. I'm not sure. Yes, last night was good. But do it again? Or, consider doing it on some sort of regular basis? I'm just not sure," I said. She nodded.

"Well, there's no big hurry. I'm just glad that I'm able to get the 'maybe' out of you. I think that when you look at it from all angles that you'll be wanting to do it again. Anyway that's the hope," she said.

"We'll see," I said.

"Danny?" she said.

"Yes?" I said. She stared at me for a moment and a half.

"Do you think it would be out of the question to allow Gabriel the latitude to come to the house once in a while? You know as a visitor, a guest, not for sex necessarily, just as a friend?" said Rachel.

There it was. If I said yes, would mister Hubbard become close enough to my wife to make inroads on my marriage maybe even to ultimately take her away from me. My silence per her question clearly worried her.

"Never mind," she said. "It's too early to be making those kinds of plans. I wasn't thinking. Forget I mentioned it. Okay?" I nodded my relief. And, I was relieved. And, I still hadn't answered her, which of course was an answer.

******

In the months immediately following the "night to remember," things were okay around the house. That is except we both were tentative about bringing up the subject of Gabriel again except on the rarest of occasions.

My business was going good. My crew and I, and the all-purpose band we almost always used, the Roadsters-they could play anything-worked most weekends and any number of school functions during the week. Rachel also helped out; well, on the weekends, handling the salad bar as her usual thing. The boys ran the barbecue handling set up and clean up while I did liaison between both groups and the band. I did have a liquor license, and on the occasions such was called for, I was the bartender.

For her part, Rachel appeared a little looser and less worried that I'd be going off on her about her occasional late nights or the like. And they were occasional, only once or twice a month. Could she have been meeting him other times? Maybe, but it would have taken some engineering. What was interesting was the fact that she was still at pains to treat her liaisons as though I was not in the know about them; even though we both knew about them, and she knew we were both in the know about them—weird. The face saving game, for me again I guess. But then something happened that changed the game, and not for the better.

The party had been going on for some little time. It was her company's annual Halloween do. I was catering; well, I was the best. Lots of food, lots of drink, lots of people dressed foolishly and acting foolish: the usual.

She'd been missing in action for maybe half an hour before I started looking for her; we'd hired a teenage neighbor to take her place at the salad bar. Couldn't very well have here serving her coworkers. My friend Mike Henry from the Red Hat, a pro barkeep filled in for me. I was dressed as Wild Bill Hickok, and she like Calamity Jane. The Calamity part seemed fitting after the fact. What fact? The fact that I overheard her talking about us-the three of us.

"No Gina, it turned out okay. He did walk in on us at the restaurant. He did try to get out of there without us noticing him. But, we-I-did notice him and I was able to get him calmed down and to join us at our table," said Rachel.

"Join you? The two of you? Wow!" said Gina.

I was leaning again the wall just outside the bathroom, as though waiting my turn, and listening to everything they said.

"Then did you leave with him. I mean you did go home and fuck his eyes out, right?" said Gina.

"No, no, better than that. I got my wimpy little guy to join us," she said. "He's damn near useless in bed, but he did do his best that night," said Rachel. The two of them giggled at her remarks.

"He claims his cock is five inches long and thickish, but it's closer to four and it's not thickish. In fact I was a little concerned when he took me after Gabe did because I knew he wouldn't be able to feel me too good being so much smaller. But, I was able to get by that one," said Rachel.

"How were you able to manage that?" said Gina.

"I let him have my ass. I never let Gabe do that; he's way too big, so I knew it would be cool if Danny did me there. It actually felt pretty good. He's so small that there was almost no pain," said Rachel.

"Wow? So he never got your pussy?" said Gina.

"No, he got it, but by then he was so done, and I was so swampy, that he figured it was him cumming twice already that was the problem, not the size of his dick so much," said Rachel.

"So you and Gabe any further along with your plans?" she said.

"To dump Danny and get married you mean?" said Rachel.

"Yes," said Gina.

"No, not really. I mean Gabe's a professional and all, but he only makes about Danny and I do. Danny, as a useless as he is in bed, is one heck of a wage earner. His little business isn't so little, you know. He averages around eighty grand annual and has hit a hundred a few times. And besides, I actually like the little guy. He does so try to please me. I mean you know, when he's not being so pissy and whiny about Gabe," said Rachel.

"But if you've already done a threesome with him once… " started Gina.

"Yes, I know what you're saying. I broached it to him, the possibility, but he put the boff on that at least for the near term. Plus, I don't really want him in there when I'm doing it with Gabe anyway, at least not all of the time. Danny's kind of a wet blanket. It wouldn't be as much fun with him there. Yes, there is the upside that I wouldn't have to be worrying about him dumping me or going off on Gabe, but mostly it would be a bit of a downer him sharing time with the master," said Rachel. They laughed.

I stayed where I was. I wanted her to find me and realize that the jig was up.

How did I feel? I felt like shit? Her dissing me to others was a major hit to my ego and my hopes that we could be good long term. Well, long term just ended.

The door opened and Gina came out, saw me, looked shocked, and hurried off down the hallway putting space between herself and her friend, and me of course.

Five seconds later Rachel came out looked down the hall at the quickly receding ass of her friend. She hadn't looked left, hadn't seen me yet. She was halfway down the hall before she happened to glance back and saw my still leaning against the wall. Our eyes met. Her hands dropped to her sides. She obviously realized that she'd been overheard and that I was likely not happy. Then she did something odd; well, I thought it was odd.

She didn't come to me, try to speak to me. She turned once again and headed back into the party. Me? I pulled my cell, called Arnie, and had him take over the event for me: told him I had an emergency. I took the rear exit to my left, got my car, and went home. She could find herself another ride or call a cab. We were done. There'd be a few scenes left to play out, I was sure, but we were done.

******

It was too late to travel. Her words hadn't destroyed me like one might think that they should have. To me a wife-or a husband-talking about his or her spouse that way identified the speaker as low class. I'd just be getting on with things.

I was surprised that she made it home not ten minutes after me.

I'd pulled two bags out and put 'em in the guest room. I'd be filling them up in the morning. I wasn't hurrying my ass out anywhere. I would be leaving, didn't want the house-or the payments-I just wanted out.

"You're mad, huh?" she said. I just smirked.

"Is that what I am?" I said. I continued to get ready for bed. I was already in my skivvies and pulling down the bed sheets.

"I don't blame you, I guess. It must have hurt you pretty good to hear the shit I was talking," she said.

"Hmm, yes it did," I said. "I mean I've loved a woman all of this time only to find out she holds me in contempt. But, it's okay, I'll get over it. I didn't do anything to deserve it, so as far as I'm concerned all of the onus is on you. You and Gabe have a good life yuh hear. I do wish that for you. Really."

"I was drunk, Danny. It's not much of an excuse. But it is the truth," she said.

"But it's also the truth that you hold me in contempt," I said. "So it doesn't matter anyway." She nodded.

"That was true until just now," she said. "It isn't anymore."

"Huh?" I said.

"I mean until just now, talking to you, hearing you, I guess I did kinda hold you in contempt. At least to some degree. But I don't anymore," she said.

"Yeah, like that's the truth," I said. She shrugged.

"It is, but, I don't blame you for not believing me. I'm a skunk and an inconsiderate asshole, and I deserve whatever you're going to do to me.

"I see you're packing. Any chance you'd give me a chance?" she said.

"Why? I ain't got what you evidently want and need. Sticking around would only cramp your style.

"Now, you can fuck big dick any time it suits you without me being in the way. You should be glad to be rid of me," I said.

"Coming back her tonight… " she started.

"How did you get home for the record," I said. "You got here mighty fast for not having a car," I said.

"Gina. The girl you heard me talking to. She understood and floored it to get here before you had a chance to escape me," she said. She laughed at her own mild attempt to be humorous. I had to smile too; well, it was funny.

"Anyway, like I was about to say. Coming back her tonight I made the decision to really and truly become a one man woman. To dine on the bus load of crow that I certainly deserve to eat. And, to destroy you with love and affection and sex and all manner of wifely attention. Well, that is if I can persuade you to not leave me," she said.

I'd been standing, but now I took a seat on the edge of the queen sized bed.

"Again, why would you want to? And, if you were worried about me leaving, why did you turn away from me in the hallway at the hotel and go wherever it was that you went?" I said.

"One, seeing you there, knowing that I may have lost you, I was sick at heart. From whatever god controls such things, I suddenly saw everything clearly. What I'd been doing to you, the cuckolding, my words to Gina, all of the time lost, all of the possibilities lost. Those are the reasons that I want you; I wanna fix things.

"Why did I turn away from you in the hallway? Two reasons. One, I knew talking to you right then was a no win situation. I needed to give you a little time-very little as it appears to be turning out-to calm down. Two, I needed to talk to Gabe: I broke it off with him on the phone ten minutes ago. Kinda cruel to do that to him, but it's done and it's irrevocable. For the record, he understood.

For the life of me, I found myself believing her: all of it. "Rachel, oddly, I kinda believe you. What I also believe is that I can never satisfy you, and that's the killer. And, I don't think that you could be faithful to me long term."

"I know you think that what you say is so, Danny, but in this you are very wrong," she said. "I can be faithful, and I would be if you would give just me a little chance here."

"I don't know, Rachel, your words… " I started.

"I know, cruel and nasty do not begin to cover them. I know," She said. "I aim to find a way to fix that though. And, I'll find a way. Well, I mean if I get the opportunity." I gave her a look that was as much challenge as it was question, and it was both.

"I'll be sleeping in the guest room, as you see, tonight. I don't see much reason to hope we can get by this, but, in the morning-well, maybe we can talk. We'll see," I said.

******

I guess she'd gone out to the all night donut shop while I was still in bed. My favorite sweet rolls were warmed and on the table when I came down.

"I won't ask you if you slept okay," she said. "I probably wouldn't much like the answer."

"Hmm," was my erudite response.

We ate the rolls and drank the coffee. She kept looking up at me from her plate during the process.

Donuts history, second cups poured, we leaned back in our seats.

"Any hope?" she said. I looked down.

"I'll be leaving in an hour," I said. She nodded but said nothing.

An hour later I was indeed gone. It would be a long time before I saw her again, a very long time.

******

"He caught you dissing him behind his back! That had to be a bummer for him-even for you," said Gabriel.

"It was and it was," she said. And, now I've lost my main support. I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Well, I'm there for you. You know that," he said.

"Yes, and I appreciate it. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you too.

"I even told him I'd dumped you in the hopes that that would be incentive enough for him to stay, but in the end my words killed us as a couple," she said.

"I guess," he said.

******

I was alone, almost thirty-eight years old, and feeling really bad. I'd lost her and that was all there was to it. I wonder what she was really thinking right at that moment. Probably wondering about money, that is, where she was going to get any. She said she'd broken it off with Gabriel, but had she really. And, if she had would she try to resurrect her romance with him now that I was history. Well, it was none of my affair anymore.

******

I facilitated the divorce myself. She did show up at the final hearing; it's the last time I would see her for a long time. She didn't contest it, and nine months after our break up, after my leaving, I was single and working my ass off. The work helped me through the roughest of times. The good news was my income was dramatically improved: I was regularly pulling down a hun-and-a-quarter annual! The catering and entertainment business was booming; well, it was for me.

I'd relocated fifty miles north to New Town. It was a mite smaller than my old digs at Chesterton, but my services were even more in demand. I had had to hire a new crew, two local kids, and an assistant to take the place of Rachel. Her name was Jolly Herndon. Age twenty four, short, pretty, and committed to working hard: my kind of girl. And, no we weren't lovers; she had a boyfriend, a jock as it happened apparently on his way to big things in the pros.

I settled into a routine of sorts, I guess. Didn't date much; worked a lot; drank too much, but didn't let it affect my business; and generally just got along.

Did I get emotional on occasion? Yes, usually late at night and usually alone. I thought about her all of the time. And, I wondered if she ever thought about me. Well, I mean in a good way. I knew she didn't think much of me in the sex department; I heard her say so. But in other respects, well, I hoped she missed me a little. I needed her to miss me. But there was no getting any answers without seeing her again, and that wasn't happening. That is, it wasn't happening for the next eleven years.

******

It was my fiftieth birthday. And I got a card. A card with a coupon in it in the mail. It was addressed to Food and Fun for All Occasions Inc. Well, I was in the Yellow Pages. And, yes, a coupon. I looked at it and looked at it and looked at it some more. It had an expiration date and time on it: midnight today, my birthday. It was from Rachel. And if I wanted to redeem it, I could right then, in the hotel, The Grand, any time before midnight.

Bearer Is Entitled to One Night of Riotous Sex, No Limits; But Bearer Must Redeem Said Coupon Before Midnight of the Sixteenth of July. Room 1412 of the Grand Hotel.

Yes, I'd gotten in my car and driven over to the Grand. Curiosity, horniness, neediness, and even some vestigial feelings of love made me do it.

This was it. My wife, my ex-wife, was here and offering me a night of-doubtless-unforgettable sex. All I had to do was knock on the door of 1412 on or before midnight.

I hadn't seen her in eleven years. Not heard of her, seen her, or any of it. And, for all of those eleven years, I had wanted to. Problem was that likewise for all of those eleven years, I wanted her to want to. That was my only requirement. Well, here she was and apparently she wanted to see me.

I headed for the elevators.

It was three in the afternoon. It was my birthday, but I'd had no plans, still didn't, not really. If I knocked on the door across from the wall I was leaning against, that might suddenly change. I wanted to, but…

But, the hurt from so many years before, her words, how could I get by the? I'd had free sex exactly twice in the eleven years since breaking up with Rachel. Seems, no woman worth a damn wanted anything to do with a guy with my baggage. So, decision time. Accept a little mercy from my ex or walk off with my tail between my legs and my less than useless sense of self-worth more or less still intact-I mean I had been the one to break it off with her, saved a little face was the way I saw it.

I crossed the eight or ten feet between me and the door. I raised my hand to knock, hesitated, lowered my hand, turned and walked back toward the elevators. I couldn't do it.

I was waiting for elevator when I felt a hand on my shoulder, her hand. "Gonna pass up free pussy from a pretty good looking broad," said Rachel. She'd startled me, but I gathered myself before I let that little fact become overly obvious.

"Rachel! I-"

"Come on back, Daniel, you look like you could use a cup of coffee," she said. I stared at her but didn't at first move to follow her as she headed back in the direction of room 1412.

What the hell, I thought. I could use a cup of coffee, and I was hard core curious for damn sure. Oh, and she was beautiful. I followed her, my steps like those of a condemned prisoner. The door was wide open. I entered. She was already pouring the coffee from the hotel supplied coffee maker in the niche against the entry wall. She took a seat at the little round utility table the room afforded.

I stood there just inside the door staring at her. Except for mentioning her name at the elevator, I hadn't spoken a word.

"Close the door if you don't mind, Danny. Okay," she said. Her words brought me out of my semi-stupor. I closed the door.

"Come. Sit down," she said. Again, I followed her directive. I looked down at the steaming cup she'd poured for me. I didn't touch it, not yet.

"Still hurt even after all of this time?" she said.

"Yes," I said. She didn't make fun of my response. She could see it would not have been useful to do so. She just nodded.

"I knew back then that my words had stung you real bad. It was the words wasn't it, not just me being selfish or cheating with Gabriel or any of that?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Whew. I guess have my work cut out for me today for sure," she said.

"Why are you here?" I said. I knew the offer of sex was only the opening gambit for whatever she really wanted, and I had not a clue what her want was.

"To see you," she said.

"Your offer of a mercy fuck for pretty much useless in bed me, was only made so you could see me? Kinda hard to believe," I said.

"Danny, for a decade I've been crying my eyes out wanting to take back the awful things I said that day-and other days too, yes, before you ask or assume or whatever, I had said other things behind your back, all pretty much just dissing your bedroom skills. They were unconscionable, the things I said. I am here to apologize for those too.

"The sex coupon? Just an idea I had to break the ice with you. And, mercy fuck? Hell no. It would've been, and may yet be, a way for me to salve some of the guilt and need and wish that have been eating me up inside all of this time," she said. "Regardless of what I said back then, or anything you might believe, I love you and need you and want you to come back to me."

Now, she'd pretty much stopped me cold. "Come back to you?" I said.

"Yes, marry me again. I need you to love me and protect me and hold me and yes fuck me too; and that regularly and enthusiastically and often," she said.

"I can't claim to not be surprised," I said. "I'm shocked really. But, Rachel, what's changed after all of this time, that you suddenly pop out of nowhere with this bizarre opening, and want to marry me again. I mean, I know you meant what you said back then. Denying it won't fly. I heard your tone of voice, your reasoning, and none of it was anything that had not been thought out at length by you." She nodded.

"I admit that in a sense you're right. But, what is also true is that I didn't know what I had in you, not really. Not till I'd lost you, And, I mean sexually as well as in every other way," she said.

Coming here today I remade the decision to really and truly become a one man woman like I told you that last night we were together so long ago. And also like I said that night I am here to dine on the bus load of crow. And again, similarly, to destroy you with love and affection and sex and all manner of wifely attention. Well, that is if I can persuade you to not leave again," she said.

Now I really did have a decision to make. I was fifty; so was she. She says she was doing this to get back with me because she loved me. Of course that brought up the next question.

"Where's Gabriel Hubbard," I said. "I know you said you sent him on his way back then, but… " She smirked.

"Truth?" she said, now she was smirking really big.

"And nothing but," I said.

"Back then, I lied. I hadn't cut him off. I was going to try and keep you two separate but far enough apart that you would never be the wiser. But, when all was said and done it didn't matter because you opted out anyway.

"But, as it happened, he turned out to not be husband, or even live in boyfriend, material. We were history no more than six months after your departure. Pretty much of a disappointment if you wanna know. And before you ask, there have been a few men since him, but none of them stayed the night in our house, yours and mine, and none of them lasted more than a few months," she said.

"But, I guess I can assume you've had a few women over the years too. Right?" she said. I said nothing. She gave me a look.

"Daniel?" she said. "Wait, you have haven't you?" I remained silent.

"You haven't, have you! Oh, my God. Daniel, how long has it been. I mean how often. I mean-well-you know what I mean," she said.

"A long time," I said, kinda quietly.

"Daannnyyyy! How long has it been? Tell me," she ordered. I wasn't quite wringing my hands.

"A few years since the last time," I said. I was still talking very quietly.

She stared at me. There was a long minute of silence. "How often? I mean over the past ten years," she said.

"Not often," I said.

"Daniel! How often!" she demanded.

"Twice," I said. I'd stopped her.

"Two times? In ten years? Is that what you're saying?" she said. Silence from me again.

"Wow!" she said, and now her voice was on the quiet. "Daniel, I am so sorry. I blame myself…"

"Forget it, Rachel. It's water under the bridge.

"I'll be going now. Nice seeing you," I said, as I rose to leave the latest site of my humiliation at the hands of my ex-wife.

She jumped up and barred my way to the door. "You're not leaving. Not just yet. At the very least I'm going to be number three. I need it, you need it. We can argue later as to who needed it more, though I suppose you're going to win that one. Jesus, twice in more than ten years! You must be going nuts."

She was right about her assessment of my mental state. I was going nuts. "But, do her? Here? Now?"

She made the decision for me. She started undressing in front of me. Down to her black thong and bralette, she smiled at me. "Gonna get undressed or do I Have to spank you to get you to do it?"

"What the heck," I said. "I might as well. I'm already humiliated. It couldn't get a whole lot worse for me," I said. I was naked in less than a full minute.

She took me by the hand and led me to the bed. She pushed me up on it, and stood there staring at me. She joined me, laying her body on top of mine and kissing me and grinding her mound onto my totally hard cock. Her legs flanked mine on the outside and imprisoned them. God she was a hot piece. But then, she always had been.

She reached down between my legs and took hold of my cock. Still on top of me, she impaled herself and began a slow rotating motion with her hips that effectively got me to screwing her even though she was doing most of the work. It was hot, she was hot.

I came in a gusher after some little time. She hadn't gotten off, but she would now. "Suck me dry," she said. I did, and she did cum.

I had her twice more in the next two hours. We lay sodden and panting and for the moment content.

We slept. My birthday was a success. All of the attendees got what they wanted or said that they wanted.

******

I made a pot of coffee. The sun had just risen and was flooding the room with its rays. She mouthed my name. I went to her.

"You're awake," I said.

"Yes, and you've made the coffee. Poured it yet?" she said.

"No, it's not quite done perking," I said.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and headed for the bathroom. I could hear her peeing. I actually got semi-hard at the mental image.

She came out and headed for the little table. I checked the pot. The coffee was ready. I poured the cups.

"So," she said. "Gonna marry me?" I looked at her. We were seated across from each other.

"Maybe," I said. "I want to. I just don't know if I could handle another put down, another Gabriel."

"Honey, let's try and forget about the past. I've done penance these last eleven years for my sins. I mean even felons get a chance at parole sooner or later, and this is definitely later," she said. I smirked.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. She went pensive.

"Jesus, Daniel! Only twice in eleven years! How did you do it?" she was actually asking a question and it was not rhetorical.

"The occasional woman of the evening. The five sisters. I got by. It wasn't very nice, good, satisfying but it kept me halfway sane I guess you could say."

I will be good to you, Daniel. I will be good for you too. I know our problems were my fault. You will be benefitting from my penance in that regard," she said.

******

We were married in a civil ceremony two weeks later. Jolly Herndon was one of the witnesses. I decided to expand my catering and entertainment business. Jolly became the manager of my Chesterton operation, and I was able to get Arnie and Reggie back from the supermarket jobs they'd both had since I'd moved upstate. I kept up the New Town business myself. I'd made some political connections there that were good for business and I wanted to capitalize on that little reality.

Life was good. There seemed to be no interest on the part of Rachel to sin again. Oh, she was hit on often enough. Fifty or not she was still one hot momma. But, all of the attempts by the males of the local population to get with her met with a stony reception. I was beginning to feel more and more secure as time went on. And then he showed up-on my front porch!

"Gabriel! What are you doing here," said Rachel.

"Came to see you of course," he said. "It's been ten years, girl. I've changed. I'm a better man than I was. I thought-well-I thought that maybe you and I could share a cup of Java and talk about it."

"I'm back with Danny, mister Hubbard. I'm a one man woman now. We had our day and it is long since gone. You need to find someone else. Please do not darken this door again." She slammed the door in his face.

I'd seen it all. I shouldn't have; I was supposed to have been at the church setting up for a sodality do I was catering. But, I'd gotten a call from the Monsignor begging off because of a funeral he'd been called to attend to. The do would be the following week.

I'd been watching from the kitchen. She hadn't seen me. She leaned heavily against the wall flanking the door. I walked in. I startled her.

"Daniel!"

"Yeah, I saw the whole thing. You did right. Now I have a question.

"You, seeing him after so long, how did you feel? Tempted?" I said.

She deflated. "You know, I'm not sure. But, what I am sure of is that it will never happen between him and me ever again. Danny, those bridges have been burned and lay in ruins and unmourned. Really," she said. I nodded.

"Well, good, so then let's get on with the business of living." She smiled and that broadly.

"Let's" she said.

******

"I like this bar," said the man. "The Hop and Grape you call it."

"Yeah, we like it too," said Barney, the in house purveyor of alcoholic beverages.

"A scotch on the rocks," said he man.

"Got an ID?" said Barney.

"You kiddin'! I'm almost fifty-five," said the man.

"New rule. The boss says card everybody. Methuselah comes in here he gets carded.

"I guess I oughta be flattered," said the man. He showed him his license and Barney fixed him his drink.

The man sipped the whiskey, alternately talking to Barney, looking around the place and glancing down the bar at the matron morosely nursing what looked to be a white wine.

He caught her eye. He smiled. She didn't so much smile as send him a friendly grimace. It was enough. Headed down toward where the lady was doing her thing.

"Hi," he said. "Like to dance?" She gave him the once over and let him lead her out onto the floor.

******

"How yuh doin' Danny," said Barney.

"Good, very good. Me and the wife are back together like I told yuh last week. So things are definitely looking up for me," I said. I saw his look and it was-what-a question.

"Barney?" I said.

"Danny, we're friends, right?" said Barney.

"Of course," I said. "Barney what's going on?"

"You remember you telling me about your breakup years ago?" he said.

"Yeah, and you telling me about yours," I said.

"I never forget names, Dan. Some people are good with faces and some with names. I'm a name person," he said.

"Okay," I said.

"A guy, Gabriel Hubbard, came in here. Not too many with that name, I'm thinkin'. I mean he's in town," said. Barney. "And I know you only live a mile away…"

I was silent. Yes, I'd heard her talking to him and telling him to forget it, but…"

"You, okay, man," said Barney.

"Yeah, yeah, when was he here?" I said, finally.

"Last night. He mentioned your wife's name to me. Asked if a woman name of Rachel ever came in here. I told him no. He looked to be on the hunt. In fact he did leave with some woman I never saw before; he picked her up," he said. "Anyway…"

"Thanks for the heads up Barney. I appreciate it," I said.

I had to think. She'd shined him on a week past. But he was still here. I'd have a hard time believing that he just coincidentally moved her. And, him asking questions of Barney? It appeared he hadn't given up. Looking back to the conversation she'd had with him at our door the week before-actually the aftermath of the conversations she'd had with him-concerned me. She'd appeared mildly depressed-no-disappointed. But, disappointed why? Because she would like to have gotten back with him but didn't dare risk it? That was my fear now. So, how might I short shank his efforts? Killing him would be problematical. Living with it unthinkable. So what?"

******

Again, I had to think. Doubtless gotten the number to call her from information; we were listed. And, "Killingworth" wasn't exactly "Smith"; it would have been easy for him.

But, had he tried more than once to talk to her? Would she tell me if he had? Boy oh boy, I hoped was wasn't becoming paranoid. I decided that she and I had to talk. I was going to be direct and to the point. Then I was going to hunt the bastard down and put it to him. My reasoning? If the both of them were aware of my attention, concern, maybe they'd not want to risk the virtually inevitable discovery and confrontation. But, all of my planning proved unnecessary; fate intervened to put it all out there.

******

It was the very next day. I'd decided to take Rachel out for the evening. Destination? The Hop and Grape.

I couldn't believe it! As we were pulling in I saw him. He was almost at the door and headed inside.

"What are you starring at, dear?" said Rachel. Then she saw what I was starring at.

"Let's go somewhere else," she said. She was almost urgent in her insistence. I started to turn around, stopped, and headed back into the parking space I'd almost vacated.

"No, we're going to have it out with him now. You're either mine or not mine. This is it," I said. Then I stopped again. I had an idea. I smiled.

Rachel looked at me, narrowed her eyes. "Daniel?" she said, suspicion dripping from her tongue. "You've got something going." I looked over at her as I pulled out of the lot and on to the street.

"One question, Rachel, are you doing it with him or planning to? The truth and absolutely nothing else," I said.

"No!" she said.

"Okay then, you have nothing to worry about," I said. And, I left it at that.

******

It was just a few days later. Gabriel Hubbard was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes in the hotel room he'd gotten his law offices to pay for while he was visiting New Town.

Something wasn't right. Something was very wrong. He threw off the covers and started screaming. Several very dead chickens, cut to pierces and littering the foot of his bed under the covers had drained virtually every ounce of their blood into the sheets, covers, and mattress. He flew out of bed out the door and down the hall in his skivvies and nothing else.

The policed were mystified.

"You don't look like a mafia target to me," said the uniform.

"What? What! Mafia? What?" said Gabriel Hubbard. "No, I'm not. I don't even know any Italians."

They took his statement, scoured his room for clues of any kind, but found nothing.

******

Barney was on duty when he came in. "Mister Hubbard, right?" said Barney.

"Yes," said the man.

"I never forget a name," said Barney. "Need to see it. The rules. You know."

Gabriel Hubbard flashed him his driver's license. This would be a night for some hard drinking. He was still shivering from his morning wakeup.

Time passes slowly when one is watching the clock. It was almost 2:00AM. Gabriel Hubbard slid off the stool he'd occupied since 4:00PM. He'd already paid. He headed for the door.

His car was parked in the back of the lot. He stumbled along toward it. "Whew," he said aloud. He was hoping the cops wouldn't be out in force.

He keyed the car door lock and felt heavy hands literally gripping his shoulders and arms on both sides and forcing him off into the bushes behind his car. He was thrown to the ground.

"Don't get up," said a muffled voice. A voice attached to the middle of three men none of whom were under three hundred pounds. Gabriel Hubbard was a tall man, and not weak; but these men were too much for him and he knew it; he stayed down.

"Leave town by morning and don't come back. There's nothing for you here. You don't leave you will have a very bad experience," said the man. Then all of them were gone.

******

The call came a little after 8:00PM the next evening.

"It's done," said the voice. "We out here in West Virginia know about these things. The gentleman left town just now. Told him he had to be gone by morning, but he dallied before making his decision, I guess. Jethro's on his trail."

"Good," I said, and hung up. I'd be talking to my brother at Christmas, but not before.

"Honey, hurry up we are in need of another pitcher," said Rachel.

I hefted the pitcher and returned to the front room where the minister and his wife were stationed with the minister's brother the chief of police.

"Here it is," I said, setting down the tray with the wine coolers and the ice bucket.

"So you'll be able to cater the next event too, Dan," said the reverend.

"Of course. No problem," I said.

Looked like our problem was solved. And, business was looking up. Helluva thing.

-----------------------------

   Series:Red and Darla Clayton
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:His pride almost destroys him, but...
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/70329/red-and-darla-clayton
Published:2012-02-05
1998

I sat at the dinette table slowly rotating my cup of tea; a cup of tea I had not yet taken a sip from. Across from me, she watched me do it. Sixteen years of marriage down the shitter.

"I'm sorry, Red. I-we-we-we…"

"I get it. Don't say anything else. Please don't say anything else. I get it," I said.

"I'd do anything to have spared you this, Red. Really," she said. I stood-suddenly. I turned my back to her.

"I said to please not say anything else, Darla." I could almost feel her nodding behind my back.

"The kids, am I going to have to fight you over them? Just say yes or no. okay." I said.

"Uh-no. I know you love them. We-we'll always have them in common." My turn to nod. I turned back to face her. There was something in her look, but I wrote it off to the exigencies of the moment.

"Okay. I'll be out of the house by morning. I don't want it, the house. You and your lover can have it to play in. She sagged back into her chair.

"Okay," she said. I turned to go, to leave. I stopped just shy of the door and turned once again.

"We should've grown old together, Darla" I said. "It's what should've been." I paused. "sixteen damn years gone!" I turned one last time and went out. Nothing else was said.

That was the beginning of what I was sure was going to be a truly sad tale. That, at least from my point of view if not hers-theirs. Neither of us heard them, the kids. But, they, I would later discover had heard us.

----------

1982

Darla and I met in college during our mutual senior years; we, the both of us, just twenty-two years old. She pre-Law, me Criminal Justice. She looking to one day hook up with a major law firm, me the state police. We shared a class together, Evidenciary Forensics.

Never the shy one, one might almost have termed me aggressive, I asked her to have lunch with me on our second day of class. She'd eyed me suspiciously likely figuring I only wanted a chance to get into her pants. Well, she was right about me wanting to get into her pants, but it was not by any means the only thing I wanted. I wanted her to be mine forever. Yeah, I know, love at first sight is supposed to be fool's gold. Well, those who think that are entitled to their wrong opinion.

"Why?" she asked, her tone coy and investigatory.

"Because your pretty and I really really like pretty girls," I said. I was not smiling. I had on my most serious of serious expressions; hell, I practiced it all the time in front of the mirror while I shaved in the morning. But, she did smile.

"Hmm, okay, you're pretty enough yourself to interest me, at least for the short haul. Meet you at the Hut at high noon." She turned, without waiting for me to respond, and walked off.

Lunch at the Hut led to a series of thirteen dates, by actual count, that before I got past first base with her. When I did, I had to summon every nuance of sexual experience that I had ever laid claim to or even heard of to keep up with her; and, even then it was at best a tie. She was insatiable and very very imaginative.

I remember my exact words preparatory to that first time, "Ready for the next step?" I said, smirking and figuring she'd for sure shoot me down. She stared at me for a long moment.

"Yes, I think I am," she said. We were waiting for the waitress to bring the check when she'd said it. She started to laugh; my more than surprised look must have set her off.

"Didn't expect that, I see," she said.

A little slow on the uptake, I gathered my wits into a neat little pile and did my damnedest to not embarrass myself.

"Honestly, no. I mean I was hoping, but no," I said. She redoubled her smile.

The waitress came up, I slipped two pictures of Andrew Jackson into the little black folder that held the bill, stood, offered her my hand, and we left.

Her place was a modest two bedroom condo about a mile from the college. I guessed her parents had some dough.

----------

"Nice place," I said.

"Thanks," she said. "Like some wine?"

"Sure, I guess," I said. She left and was back in two minutes. She handed one of the two glasses of white wine. I guessed it to be a pretty good sauterne.

We drank quietly on the couch. She was eyeing me I was eyeing her and the heat was building between us. I reached out and touched her cheek; she leaned into me. I kissed her gently. She came back at me with a scorcher. I let my hand tentatively slide down and in from her shoulder and brush her breast. She smiled. I squeezed her tit and was rewarded with an even better kiss; she tasted fantastic.

She touched my cock through my pants and gave me a squeeze of her own. I began to slowly unbutton her blouse. She leaned back to facilitate my invasion. She wore no bra and her tits were fantastic. We began undressing each other with some urgency-actually-furiously!

I stood and turned her around. Her butt was to me. I leaned into her as she knelt submissively on the couch before me. I entered her and she cooed. I began seesawing in and out of her, fucking her, loving her. She was wonderful. I was going to marry her no matter what and god help anyone dumb enough to get in the way.

As we lay spent on the couch wrapped in each other's arms, I plotted to make her mine. I slid down and suckled on her nipples. Physically, there was just no downside to this female creature. I was going to have her, and not just for a night.

----------

For six months following that night we dated and were intimate almost every time. Then, it was grad time. We walked across the stage where I pulled a stunt that brought frowns from the school's admin staff and hoots and grins from most of the assembled student body.

Having gotten my sheepskin, I marched across the stage to the lectern that the invited speakers had used for the usual grad ceremonial stuff and took the mike.

"Darla MacAlister, will you marry me?" I said. I was looking straight at her out there in the midst of the be-gowned audience. There was a bustle of classmates around her. For a second, she looked stunned. She nodded and then shouted.

"Yes!"

"Thank god," I said into the mike, "otherwise this could have been really embarrassing." Well, I said I had a kind of aggressive bent. At any rate the cheers went up, and for a moment there was pandemonium, but dean Howard got things quickly under control by cracking a joke of his own about young people that I cannot now recall, and the graduation ceremony continued.

----------

We did marry, and that right after graduation. One year after we graded Jennifer was born followed a bit more than year later by Randy. And the early years were wonderful.

I'd finished my stint at the academy after but six months of marital bliss and joined the force. She did finish law school-that three years into our marriage.

1985-93

Darla interned at Griswald and Schwartz Law Offices. I did a few years in a cruiser, and then passed the test and got myself promoted to detective and started wearing the inevitable cheap suit.

At the end of her internship she'd been made a junior associate of the firm and was assigned to the division that handled the smaller felony cases: burglaries, some of the less brutal examples of domestic violence, and the like. She enjoyed the work, and, as it turned out; she was good at it.

For my part, my partner, Jess Richter, and I were part of the anti-gang task force. As any cop can tell you, that particular duty can be more than challenging, demoralizing actually. This last led to a very bad day for me eleven years into my career.

It had seemed a routine call at first, as if any domestic disturbance call was ever really routine. We'd taken the call because we were nearby. Arriving at the residence we went in after hearing the scream, guns drawn. The sight of our Glocks brought immediate order out of chaos.

"He's been beating on me," she said. "I need to get the kids and get out of here."

"Where are the kids ma'am?" said Jess.

"Next door," she said.

"Jess take her and go get them," I said. "I'll stay with the gentleman until you get back."

"Roger that," he said, and they were gone. No sooner had they gone than the gentleman rushed me. He'd surprised me. We hadn't cuffed him because he was being cooperative. But appearances this time around were most definitely deceiving.

Lucian Corvallo, was, as it turned out: a born troublemaker, gang member, wife beater, and a truly star quality asshole. Good 'ole Lucian, seeing that he was no longer outnumbered two to one, and that my gun was now holstered, decided that rather than allow us to arrest him, he'd take it upon himself to argue the point. We'd been at it for a full three or four minutes before Jess finally returned and separated us. But, the damage had been done: Lucian was dead, and I was off the force. Not a good day for me. Did I mention that at times I tended to be a bit on the aggressive side?

Darla was not happy. And, I think that at that moment she was a little afraid of me. She'd never had reason to be, but maybe even that particular point could have been argued. At any rate, the two things that could not be argued was one, the fact that I loved her and, two, that I had never laid a hand on her; nor the children either if it came to that. So, anyway, I figured to be able to win that particular argument.

"Red, you have to get your temper under control. You just do. And I mean now! I mean out of a job! One you worked so hard to get! And you killed a man, and with your bare hands!" she said. "You've really done it this time."

"He was a bad man," I said.

"I have no words, Red. I have no damn words! I insist that you get counseling. I'll have Marty cover you in the legal stuff if that guy's relatives come after you; but by god you are going to get counseling. Sometimes, Red, you scare even me," she said.

"Now, wait a minute, Darla. I've never, ever laid a hand on you. You've no call to say something like that to me. I love you. Hell you and the kids are my world," I said.

"And, that's another thing, Red, you need to be here more than you are, more than you have been. Yes, I know you love the kids, but love as an abstract thing is not enough; you actually have to demonstrate it-a lot! Heck the kids hardly know their father," she said, "and that's a fact."

"Be here? Be here more! I'm working my ass off to make a home and a better life for all of us. Yeah, I do-did-sign up for all of the overtime that I could get, Why not, the pay's, was, good and…"

"Red! Stop it. You're making excuses. We don't need the extra money. Between the two of us we make more than anybody could possibly want or need," she said. She saw my face fall.

"You mean you make enough," I said. "Well, I'm not abrogating my responsibilities and becoming some wimpy-assed house husband. I intend to do my part, contribute my share."

"Red, there is no competition between you and me. We're equal. And, the kids are a big deal in case you haven't gotten that yet. They need us. They need both of us.

"Hell-anyway, where do we go from here?" the question was rhetorical. "You know you could just stay home for a while. Handle things here, and the kids, until you figure out what you want to do," she said.

I could feel my eyes narrow. "Become a house husband? Is that what you're suggesting after what I just told you? Try to remember, Darla. I just got done telling you that that was one thing that is never going to happen," I said.

"No, no. I'm not suggesting that. I'm just saying-well-that maybe you need a little time to get your head straightened out. In fact, I've been so damned busy myself lately. I mean, well, we could hire a maid if you don't want to do the household stuff. No problem with that," she said. "It'd make things easier for me for sure. Anyway, like I was saying, I've been thinking about it for a while. I mean you do all of the yard work and stuff now, and I do the usual wife stuff. A maid would be a big deal for me."

"Yeah right, a full time maid? And pay her how?" I said.

"Well, I mean…"

"You mean you'd pay her because your husband's a deadbeat. That about it?" I said.

"Damn it, Red! Whoever said anything like that! You are most definitely not a deadbeat. If anything you are the exact opposite. So opposite, that you are neglecting your children, and that, young man, is a fact!" she said. She'd finally stopped me.

"I'll be going out. I-I-will be getting new employment. I'll be back later-tonight," I said.

"Red-I'm… " but I was gone.

----------

"Mom and dad are sad," said Jennifer as she closed her bedroom door behind them.

"Momma is for sure," said Randy.

"What are we going to do?" she said.

"Do? Do what? We can't do anything: we're kids," he said. "I'm only ten, and you're only eleven! What can we do?"

"Mom will tell us what we need to do," said Jennifer, repeating herself. "She always tells us what to do. She'll make dad stay home. I heard what she said." Her brother nodded.

----------

1993

"Darla, you've got to give yourself some credit. He's a good guy and everything, but if he isn't going to be there for the kids; well, that's a problem of his own making," said Marty.

"Yes, yes, I know. But it's not as simple as that. Red thinks he has to keep up with me earnings-wise, and he just can't do it. Even working eighty hours a week he is at best able to make half what I do. He's a hard worker, insanely so, and I admire him for his work ethic. But, he has this crazy need to keep up with the Joneses," she said.

"Yeah, well that's just plain stupid. And as for that, he should be home poking you more too," he said. She blushed. "When was the last time he did you?"

"Marty! That's none of your business," she said, but she was smiling.

"Hmm, how long, Darla? Just tell me," he said.

"Oh all right. Two weeks ago. It was quickie in the morning before he left for work," she said.

"A quickie? And you're okay with that," he said.

"No, I'm not okay with it, but what can I do. He's six-four and two-ten. I'm five-three and one-ten. He can do pretty much what he wants with me and there is nothing I can realistically do about it.

"Well, all I can say is, that if I had a honey like you, there'd be damn few days that I wouldn't have you bent over a couch or on your back in bed," he said.

"Sounds nice," she said. He suddenly had a look about him that she couldn't decipher. But, that became a moot point ten seconds later.

"Come on," he said. He led her back to his office. Closing the door, he turned and kissed her, hard!

"Marty, we shouldn't… " He kissed her again.

"If your man won't take care of you; well, I'm going to," He said.

He unbuttoned her suit jacket and then went after her blouse. Her bra hooked in the front, easy-peezy. It followed her jacket and her blouse to the puddle of vesture on the floor.

"Sweet Jesus! you're beautiful," he said. He leaned and kissed her nipples, then sucked one then the other. He sucked then desperately. She giggled at his obvious excitement. She pushed him away from her.

"Take your clothes off, Marty," she said, as she shed her skirt and panties.

He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. She went to her knees and touched him playfully. She took his cock in her two hands and licked the tip. She licked it again. She let it slip into her mouth, and she began to suck him. He kept jerking spasmodically as her tongue nearly drove him crazy.

He finally pushed her down on the couch and slid down her body and began doing his duty. A duty he swore he would be seeing to again if there were still any gods on mount Olympus.

Sliding back up her body, he kissed her. "I really think…"

"Marty, don't talk. Just take me. Do me now," she said. She spread her legs allowing him to kneel between them. He pushed into her. He began screwing her. Soon she was bucking and wheezing and drooling out the side of her mouth. The office began to stink of sex.

He stiffened and filled her washing the walls of her vagina with his seed.

Dressing some little time later, they looked at each other wondering what had happened. Or more, how it had happened.

"Marty, it was just the animal in us nothing more. I'm married. Happily married. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. I enjoyed it; hope you did too," she said.

"Enjoyed it? Oh yeah, that's the word," he said. "I enjoyed the hell out of it."

The guilt would come later. She cheated on her man. Her good man.

----------

1998

After deciding that I had to leave, and after having told her that she and her lover could have the house, I was beset with doubts. I needed her, but now it looked that I'd lost her forever. The divorce was just a legal hurdle; we were already done.

She'd laid it on me that she had a lover. She hadn't called him that, but that had been the meaning. Her good 'ole side kick at the shop Marty Griswold. I'd been a cop for chryssakes! How long did she think she could hide him and their adulterous relationship from me? Well, in point of fact they'd been able to do so for almost five years, fucking wonderful!

It hadn't been me who'd caught up with them either; it had been the kids. Jennifer at fifteen saw the signs and more; and then, saw him coming out of our bedroom, mine and Darla's. The kids had been sent home early that day. The high school they were attending had had a bomb scare. Seemed like they got one of those every year anymore. It was a hoax, but better safe than sorry.

At any rate, Jennifer knew what the situation was as soon as she and Randy had seen them. It had shocked them, but they knew Marty and didn't raise any big to do about it. Helluva thing, my own kids covering for their cheating momma. All such notwithstanding, my wife decided to out herself figuring, I suppose, that the cat was definitely out of the bag anyway, and she needed to try and minimize the impact on me; she'd failed in that.

I was out of the house. She had her lover, and the children. I had my de facto singlehood. Goddamnit!

----------

All roads had led us here, to the her lawyer's office.

Gordon Hofschneider was pinwheeling a pencil between his fingers, as we sat there waiting; I've always wondered how anyone ever learned how to do that. Gordon was my lawyer. A little on the young side, but I trusted him. And, I trusted my wife, that, even though she was divorcing me for her lover. I didn't feel good, but I didn't feel threatened. I guess, as divorce cases went, or so I figured, ours was going to be among the less traumatic.

"Good morning Mister Griswald," said mister Hofschneider, as his counterpart entered the room and took his seat. "Have you perused our proposal?" I sat waiting stolidly to my lawyer's left.

"Yes, but, I'm afraid we felt impelled to make some changes," said lawyer Griswald.

"Changes?" I piped in. "What changes?" I was looking straight across the table at my soon to be ex-wife who'd come in some seconds after her lawyer-lover: though he was merely an observer in this situation. She looked away.

"Darla? We had an agreement," I said.

"Red, let me handle this," said Gordon. I leaned back in my seat and stared, but I did shut up. I hadn't had all of that cop training for nothing.

The proceedings lasted a half an hour more. I looked over at her. She'd changed everything, or her lover had-somebody had. Everything! Broken her promises. And, now a judge would have to be making the final pronouncements not the two of us. I silently swore that my hatred for the stinking bitch and her lover would never die.

It took another two weeks before the word came down from the bench, but finally come down it did, on my head!

I was sitting in the corridor just outside the courtroom where it had all just come to an abrupt conclusion moments before. I just sat there and stared at the tiled flooring. She'd gotten almost everything she and her asshole lover had asked for. There was no alimony; she made too much money. Yippy-eye-oh-kai-yea! But, that was about the only thing she didn't get-She'd come away with custody, a sixty-forty split of our liquid assets, and child support of six hundred a month till the kids were eighteen.

She finally came out of the courtroom. She passed no more than ten feet from me.

"Shared custody, Darla?" I said.

"Red… " but her lawyer-cum-lover hustled her away.

"Fucking bitch!" I screamed after her.

----------

2000

That was two years ago. I hadn't seen her since that morning at the courthouse. But, I had pulled my head out of my ass and gotten myself a new career. I was a private eye, and a good one; and the bucks were coming in; I was making half again plus what I ever did as a cop and that after expenses. It's likely not real surprising that I found my niche specializing in helping husbands and fathers who'd been screwed over by their wives. Well, I had a special place in my heart for them.

New career and all notwithstanding, Darla and good 'ole Marty were never far from my mind. I was keeping a close eye on them. Someday, they'd blow it and I'd be there to gloat. Oh yeah, I was most definitely gonna have their proverbial asses; I lived for that day. But, I had to be careful. I didn't want to jeopardize the little time I had with the children.

It was clear to me that Jennifer and Randy were being turned against me. How did I know this? Because at best, they were bored and antsy when they were with me. Nor was I allowed to pick them up. The bitch had them delivered to me on my weekends. Oh, and she was never late in doing so. Oh no, she followed the letter of the law to a T did my ex the bitch. I got my one weekend a month without fail, but not a nano-minute more! Was I bitter? Stupid question.

----------

My secretary buzzed her in. I didn't want to deal with her, but there were practical sides to things over which even a hot shot private investigator like me had little control. This was one of those practical sides.

"Good morning, Red," she said. Her tone was amicable, as well it might have been. She had to know I wasn't in the mood to listen to any of her bullshit. I just watched her, not saying anything, especially not good morning. Any morning with my ex-wife in it figured to be anything but good. "Still not talking I see."

"It's been two years, Darla, with me hardly ever laying eyes on you-a definite plus, actually. Whaddya want? I'm a busy man, even though you and your asshole lover-excuse me, I mean asshole husband-might not believe it," I said.

"Still bitter about the divorce," she said. "I was hoping that enough time had passed that we might be able to mend some fences."

"You know better than that, Darla. Mend some fences? With you and the asshole? After how you screwed me over, especially with the kids! No," I said. "You've done everything in your power to keep the children from me and undermine me with them the way I see it.

"You know, I even doubled their child support-without you or your lover having to sue me for it. And still, all I get is token visits with my kids. Who, by the way, seem less and less interested in being with me even as little as it is; and yes, I do suspect your hand and maybe his in that. So fuck you, the both of you!

"But, enough said, whaddya want? Get to it or get out. She could see my hand was poised to buzz in Heidi to throw her ass out.

"Okay, okay. I was just trying to be friendly," she said. "Actually I'm here, at least in part to make some of the visitation stuff good with you. But, I do wish you'd stop all the nastiness, the profanity; it's not real useful. Okay?"

"We will never be friends again, Darla, so get to it," I repeated. "And, as to the profanity, let's just say you inspire it. Okay?"

"Whatever, Red. Well, Marty and I are planning a vacation at the end of the month, and we wondered if you would be willing to take care of the kids while we're gone," she said. She knew she had me.

The divorce settlement had given her essentially total custody except for alternating holidays, and the one weekend a month. I was bitter as hell about it. I'd wanted shared and joint. I wanted to be able to see them anytime I could, try to make up for my neglect; I'd finally realized I'd been guilty of that; but I was certain that the bitch and her asshole had put the boff on me doing anything to fix it. The kids were almost old enough to do their own thing, but by now, the way I saw it, they'd been brainwashed.

Yes, I had eventually accepted the fact that my kids were all but strangers to me. But, I had also been reinforced in my belief that such was so because I had been working too hard and that for them! Hence, I was guilty of neglecting them, but not guilty of not loving them, or being an undeserving parent. Not in my mind.

My two worst enemies, Darla and Marty, had essentially held that a more liberal custody arrangement-read better for me-was just too distracting, that I was never around.

The law firm, where she worked as a junior associate, had spared no effort in getting her what she wanted. Their buddy the judge noted that I'd been kicked off the force for killing a man. That put the final nail in my fatherly rights. It had also given her virtually everything she'd asked for. But now they had an eternal enemy-me.

I had it as my primary goal in life to bring them down if I could, and that both individually and collectively: the two of them, their law firm, the judge-the lot of them. Except for my kids, it's all I lived for. Okay, maybe they weren't kids anymore, technically; they were teenagers, but they'd always be my little ones regardless, so sue me. Still, I was biding my time. I had time. I was fifty years old and almost to the place where I could realistically compete with their money and influence.

After the fact of the divorce, my lawyer had been able to protect my new business-which I was certain she knew I would have shut down if she'd tried for it anyway; so, I guess things could have been worse. I will say, that although I had no reason to think so really, Darla had appeared to have been at pains to not interfere with my agency. It was almost like a bone she was throwing me to keep me happy, though the confluence of happiness and my life was in fact a virtual oxymoron.

"What's the matter good 'ole asshole doesn't like my babies anymore," I said.

"Cut the crap, Red. Marty's a good guy; frankly, better than you when it comes to being caring. You're the one who's always whining that you don't get to see the kids often enough, or so the kids tell me. So, which is it yes or no?" she said.

"Caring? Yeah, he's caring-for himself! He's got my wife, my house, my kids, about everything I ever cared about, so yeah, I guess you could make an argument that he's caring, just not about me.

"But, to answer your question, yes, of course I'll babysit. And I can't tell you how much I appreciate you thinking of me," I said. "Send me the particulars: dates times et al, and I'll be there. Now get out!"

"Okay, Red." She got up and headed for the door. I was just picking up the phone to make a call I had scheduled, when having reached the door, she turned and gave me a look. "You know, Red, one of these days you're going to have to let it go; I mean the anger."

"No I won't, Darla; and it isn't anger; it's hatred. Now get out!" She seemed to pale a little, but finally turned and left.

----------

Hanging up the phone I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. I could feel them misting over. I opened them just as Heidi entered with the folder she knew I needed.

"You okay, mister Clayton?" she said. I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay. That it?" I said.

"Yes sir it is," she said. She passed it to me, and I looked it over. Gabriel Montoya was not a nice guy. He was decidedly a bad guy. A guy with a longer rap sheet than most mafia soldiers. But, Gabe baby had one very useful quality which I was determined to exploit: he was a drug dealer, a high end drug dealer. And, Gabriel owed me. I'd saved his ass from the law when a young and over eager D.A. was going to nail him for that which he was innocent of. His less than useless appointed lawyer had had the good luck, or sense, to ask for help and I had helped.

----------

It'd taken me months after the divorce to find the guy. All I'd had at the start were rumors. Rumors that Malcom Griswald, of Griswald and Schwartz Law Offices was a user, a big time user.

"Heidi, get Montoya on the phone okay. No, on second thought, call him, but have him come in. It's time he and I talked. This is good stuff." For the first time on this particular morning I had something to feel good about. It wasn't enough, but it was a start. I had to hope it was going to be just a matter of time before I nailed Griswald and maybe others in that fuckwad law office.

----------

"So, my friend, what can I do for you?" said Gabriel Montoya.

I need to bring a bad boy down. This bad boy helped cost me my wife. I want his ass," I said. "And, anyone else associated with him that I can add to the muck we're going to be collecting."

"Okay," he said. He was speaking very deliberately. "Mister Clayton, I owe you. But, before we go off the deep end here, are you sure you wanna do this? It could get ugly," said Gabriel.

"I can do ugly," I said. "Go for it."

We made plans for the long haul in case it took that long to call up the evidence that we'd be collecting. I was feeling good.

----------

"So, is he willing to watch 'em?" said Marty Schwartz.

"Of course he is. He loves them. It's one of his better qualities. Actually, maybe his only good quality," said Darla. "Loving them has never been a problem for him, knowing how to love them, however, is way beyond his ken.

"Well, good. Maybe he'll be a little less obnoxious from now on. I mean if we just let him see his kids a little more often," he said. "Does he still believe that they love him as much as he thinks they do?"

"Yes and no, he thinks that they would if we weren't turning them against him; and I'm not going to be the one to burst his bubble. It would kill him," she said. "Like I said he's not really all that bad of a dad, or man; but he's neglected them almost from day one to the point where they hardly know him now, and they don't trust him to be a full time dad. And, frankly, neither do I. Oh he'd be on his toes for a while, until his next big thing. But then the excuses would be resurrected, and it would be the same old same old.

"He's a good man Marty, in some ways, just not in the ways that count. Anyway, that's why he's gone and you're here."

"Well then, it's his own fault. As busy as we are, and we are busy, he's double us put together," he said. "He should have been around more. It's his own fault. And, he does have a violent streak. He didn't have to kill that guy. He's strong enough that he could have just played with him until his partner got there. And, he had a gun. I think he actually wanted to beat the asshole to death, or he would have eventually used the gun instead, found a way to use it. The ultimate macho thing, you know mano y mano, as the mex are always sayin'."

"Yeah maybe. And yeah, it is his own fault-mostly-and it is sad. If he ever finds out that it was the kids who didn't want to split time between us-well-I just don't know. He's become a contradiction in personalities: on the one hand a hard-nosed gumshoe, on the other a pussy when it comes to the kids," she said.

"Yeah, well, you said it: it's sad," he said. She nodded.

He came to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him. His hands slipped to her buttocks and he felt her up quite satisfactorily.

He led her over to his desk. He bent her over it.

Kneeling behind her, he lifted her skirt and kissed her butt. Slowly he pulled her panties down. He kissed each cheek; then, he spread them apart. He gazed worshipfully at her anus and the tiny brown circle of her sphincter. He licked her.

He stood and gently forced her legs to spread for him. He teased her pussy for a minute or two, and then pushed into her. He fucked her slowly lovingly this time. She was going to be his after this one. He needed her.

----------

"You got it?" I said. He looked at me from across my desk.

"Boss-yeah-I got it, but it's not what we thought it was. Well what we expected… " said Roberto.

"Huh? Whaddya mean," I said. "If it wasn't what we expected-then what?"

"Boss, I mean you're the boss. But, well, I'm gonna say don't ask me for any of this stuff, and drop it. Drop it all, he said. Forget those two, that law firm, all of it." I stared at him like he was crazy.

"Excuse me, mister Santana, mister Roberto Santana; but you work for me. I want the stuff, all of it, and I want it now,' I said. Reluctantly, he pushed a thick manila envelope toward me.

"I'm sorry boss," he said. He got up and left. His look told me not to try and stop him; I didn't.

I looked at the envelope. I looked at it as at a toxic thing. Little did I know just how toxic a thing it was actually going to be.

An hour later most of my questions about Darla's perfidy-what I had thought to be her perfidy-were answered. I didn't feel anything, not then, not right then. I would, I knew that, but not then, not right then. My children, the loves of my life, didn't love me, apparently never had, and Darla had had it right": it was a matter of my neglect of them; that was clear. Roberto's evidence was very clear on that. I actually heard Jennifer, my little girl, pleading with Darla not to make her go to my place the next weekend. She, Jennifer, had something she wanted to do with-Marty. Sick? Oh yeah, I was sick. Roberto was going to get a raise because I'd essentially forced him to be in the middle of all of this, and to say it was unfair of me to put him in the middle of it would have been an understatement of heroic proportion.

----------

I went home early. I poured myself a drink and then another. The morning after; well, I didn't feel too good.

I went in to work but not before the afternoon was pretty well in the books. I called Roberto into the office.

"Robby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"Boss, it's okay. Can I do anything? Just name it," he said.

"Yes, as a matter of fact you can. I'm going on a long vacation. For obvious reasons, and please don't try to talk me out of it. You will be the only one in the know about it. I'm not going to be worth much around here for a while, so I'm taking some time off. You're going to be the boss. The others will be called in one at a time and informed of my decision.

"And, Robby, no one is to ever find out what is on those tapes and videos. Just you and me, is that clear? And, I mean especially my ex-wife," I said.

"Yes, sir," he said.

"Also, I want my monthly check, all of it, put into this account without fail each month." I handed him the three by five card. "Tell no one. It's the way I want it. Okay? It's the kid's college fund. Hofschneider will see to any legal stuff you need to take care of while I'm gone; he has my confidence, and he's been informed that I'm going on a long sabbatical. I've already told him that you'll be calling the shots," I said.

"Boss… " my look silenced him. "Okay, boss, as you say. But…," he paused.

"How will I be able to get hold of you if I need to," he said.

"You can't. Just handle whatever it is. I'll get in touch with you if and when-well-if and when," I said. He just nodded.

"Boss…

"Robby, this is something that I have to do, and I have to do it alone," I said.

----------

"I don't know where he is, and that guy-Roberto Santana-says he doesn't know either. And, I believe him. For some reason-well-I don't know. Something set him off, drove him over the edge, I think. I just don't know. It can't be something I did, said. I mean I was giving him extended access to the children. He clearly couldn't stand the sight of me being there, but he did say that he did want the kids to be with him. He was equally clear on that. And, it is also clear that he blames me for keeping them from him-and you.

"Marty, maybe you and I did wrong in trying to passively force him to change his ways. He was never going to beg us for anything; he's just too proud for anything like that to ever be effective. I know that now. Shit! And, I was ready to grant him unlimited visitation, no restrictions, if he did change his ways. I mean he did double the child support that the courts laid on him: did that on his own. That was something right?" Damn him!" she said.

"Are they with you," said Marty, "the kids?" He was eyeing her.

"Yes, they're in the outer office. Michelle is keeping them entertained while we're in here," said Darla. He shook his head, slowly.

"Boy, this is a problem. He was supposed to take them for the three weeks. Well, we'll just have to take them with us. I'll get the tickets later today. We'll still be able to do most of what we planned together. They have all kinds of programs onboard for the young ones, especially the teenagers," said Marty.

"You don't mind them being along?" she said.

"No, of course not," he said. "They'll be lots of stuff for teens to do."

"You're the best," she said, coming to him. She hugged and kissed him.

Holding him at arm's length, she looked into his eyes. "Marty, I feel bad for Red. Ever since the divorce…"

"Yes, I know. I know, you need to get him where he isn't so, well, so something," he said.

"The word you're looking for is crazy," she said. He just smiled.

"Yeah, maybe," he said.

----------

At least the day was warm. The park had always been the place where I did my thinking, and I was thinking now. The irony in that? I'd skipped out, and that's what it was, in order to put it all behind me, all of he hurt; and, here I was actively thinking about it. And, not only thinking about it, but trying my best to justify the unjustifiable. What a fool I'd been!

It had all been because of my fucking male ego. She made more than me, so I doubled everything I did to make the extra buck: the ultimate example of keeping up with the Joneses. What a fucking cliché.

Now, I had no children. Now somebody else had my wife and my house. Now, my job, my career, were little more than meaningless avocations. If I could only die. I wondered if death really would give me surcease from my misery. I remembered words in Shakespeare's Hamlet that fit my situation, "… to die to sleep, perchance to dream, aye there's the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil." Indeed, what dreams? Dreams of my babies not wanting to be around me, disgusted with me because of my neglect: truly my dreams were more than I could bear. That I had not meant to be an absentee dad notwithstanding.

Now, nothing is what I had, and nothing is what I wanted. Helluva thing. The sidewalk seemed to materialize out of nowhere as I walked. The green of the park now at my back, I gazed at the sign in the window across the street: hiring. It was a small ma and pa restaurant by the look of it. Why not?

"Hi, yes, I saw the sign in the window, and, well, I want to apply," I said. The man looked me up and down.

"You want to work here?" he said. He looked dubious.

"Yes, is something wrong?" I said.

"Well, people who work in places like this don't usually wear two hundred dollars wingtips, or clothes that cost more than my car," said the man.

"Appearances can be deceiving," I said.

I'd not given any thought to the way I was dressed when I'd left. I'd abandoned my condo, my car, my closet full of clothes. All I had with me was a small tube bag with a couple of changes of clothes, and $1,000. I was starting over, cutting ties with my old life-wasn't I? All I wanted was some mindless job and to be left alone. This place looked ideal for my needs.

"Really?" he said.

"I was downsized. The clothes will age," I said. The man nodded.

"Okay, My name is Rob Winthrop. My wife, Joanna, and I own this fine establishment. Anyway, if you want a job. I can use you. Can you start today?" he said.

"Yes, sir. Yes I can," I said.

2002

I hadn't done dishes in ages, but I was doing them now. I was doing a good job of it too. Joanna Winthrop turned out to be a very pleasant lady in her early fifties. Over time we talked over everything-well-almost. My familial past remained tucked away in the darkest recesses of my mind never to be loosed.

I was pouring coffee and stopping here and there to chat with the locals about the usual: the weather, the governor, the price of gas when I saw her. She was eyeing me from the end of the counter where she was sipping her morning brew.

She was pretty, but she was making me feel uncomfortable. I didn't know her. I'd been pushing coffee and morning meals for almost two years for the Winthrops, and I was sure she'd never been in before. Anyone who looked like her I would have remembered. She looked away. By the noon rush I'd forgotten about her.

----------

"Her name is Sally Abrams," said Roberto. "But, Darla, the boss doesn't want to be found. I know I told you that I would do my best. But…"

"Roberto, I need closure. And, I have to believe so does he. Why he ran off may be a mystery now, but it's one I am going to do my level best to solve. Got that!" she said. "So if your gal knows anything I want to talk to her."

"Darla, you don't want to know the reason," said Roberto Santana. Her face darkened with the sudden realization that this man knew something. No this man knew "the" thing

"Roberto, you know don't you? You know! I mean the reason! It's been two years. Whatever burr he had up his ass has got to have worked its way the hell out and gone by now," she said. Roberto sighed, no cringed.

"Not this particular burr," he said, finally. Her look was very serious.

"You know the reason, Roberto. You know why he left like that!" she said

"Darla, when he was here last, he was suffering from the way you and-your guy-raped him in the divorce. He had me check to see why the kids were so reluctant to be with him. He thought that you and Marty were turning them against him. I got what he wanted, on tape. What he heard were the kids saying, essentially, well, that they didn't consider him their daddy, but rather saw Marty, well, in that role. It killed his heart, Darla. It killed his heart. That's why he left," he said.

"Huh-wha… " she started. "He heard what?"

"He saw the video, and it had sound. The kids were not kind to him. He recognized, I guess, that it was his fault; their being estranged from him, and not you or even your husband. And, he just decided, I guess, that he couldn't deal with it; so, he cut country. I've been managing things for him ever since, me and mister Hofschneider.

"Darla, I'm no psychologist. God knows I've been places like he's at right now. But, not all at once like him. There were just too many things coming at him from too many directions," said Roberto.

"I don't understand," she said. "The kids are just that, kids. He could of and still could, turn it around with them. What would have been so hard about that?"

"You didn't see the video; it wasn't good. And then, you divorcing him, replacing him with some big ticket law dog, him trying to keep up with you money-wise. Well, and then the kids. Well, everything just kinda overwhelmed him. He gave up," he said.

"He ain't coming back, Darla. I just hope he doesn't end it, and I worry a helluva lot that he will," he said. Her eyes got big. "Mister Santana, we can't let that happen. He is too good a man for that. I'm going to talk to the kids. Then, you and I are going to talk to him! How about it," she said.

"The kids are only part of it, Darla. Like I said before, there are just too many things for him to have to deal with. She rose, turned, and left. Her look, he mused, was nothing if not determined.

She strode to her car. She was angry. Angry with her former hubby. Childish did not begin to describe him as far as she was concerned. Oh, she was sure that Roberto was right about the way he saw things-her Red. She sighed, he wasn't hers anymore; but then, on some level maybe he was. They did share two children. He'd loved them; she was sure of that. He just didn't know how to show it, never had.

She felt bad for him. But, she just couldn't bring herself to take the blame for his ego being what it was. He could have been a lawyer instead of a cop. He could have made the big bucks. But oh no, he had to do it his way; well, until he couldn't. Now, she was going to have to make an effort to clean up the mess he'd made for himself. Yes, she had to do it, to give herself piece of mind. It wasn't fair, goddamn it, it wasn't fair!

----------

"Mom, we don't hate dad. We never did," said Jennifer.

"That's right mom. Heck, we love him, I guess. But… " started Randy.

"Kids, I know what you mean, and your dad, neglectful as he was, and stubbornly so, did things the best he could. He, well, he, he just thought that he needed to do more-well-to make a better living for us. He was always a workaholic. Still is, I guess," said Darla.

"Mom, we're willing to see him, talk to him; I mean if you want. Randy and I talked. You know after what you told us yesterday. We've no problem talking to him. But, well, we don't want to have to choose between Marty and dad, that's all. Marty's been good to all of us. We-well-we love him too. That said, mom, we'd have no problem visiting with dad now and again. I mean if you want us to," said Randy.

"That's right, mom," said Jennifer.

"Oh boy," mused Darla.

"Kids, I'm going to talk to your dad. But, I have to tell you if the attitude you have shown right now is made clear to him, he probably won't want to have anything to do with us anymore. I mean-'if I want you too'-you have to want to, the two of you, or there is no go on this.

"Kids, your dad loves you. And, I just can't believe that at your ages now that you can't see that. Was he the dad 'of the year'? No. But, he never stopped loving you two, no matter what it looks like.

"Anyway, I owe the guy. And as far as you two are concerned, you owe him too even if you don't realize it now. I assure you, the day will come…"

"Mom, we get it. I guess we said it wrong. We want to have a relationship with him too. Don't we, Jennifer," said Randy. "It's just…"

"We just don't want to have to choose between our two dads. We love Marty too. Well, and we don't want him to think that we're betraying him. Like we said before, he's the one that's been there for us. Mom, he's our 'real' dad. That's how we see him," said Jennifer.

"Yeah, mom. So long as we can have both were cool with having a relationship with dad, our biological dad," said Randy.

Darla frowned. The attitude wasn't right. It was like the kids were setting conditions. No, challenges, that Red would have to meet or else. If he got the idea, that there was an 'or else' in the mix; none of them would ever see him again. She knew it as she knew the sun would rise in the east.

She looked her children in their eyes and knew, just knew, that they would be doing this to please her. Their hearts weren't in it. They didn't love their dad; it was that simple, not enough for sure. Oh, Red, you blew it my good man, she thought.

----------

Darla, was fidgeting; she couldn't help herself. "Think she'll be a no show," she said not looking at him.

"Why wouldn't she show? Roberto said she would. She'll be here. She's only two minutes late," said Marty.

"There she is," he said. "Gray business suit, like he told us."

"Hi, I'm Sally Abrams," she said.

"Hello," said Marty. "I'm Marty. This is Darla." They all settled into their chairs. The bar girl came back having seen the new arrival. They ordered.

"So?" said Darla.

"Yes, he works at a small restaurant in Tyler," she said. "He seems content enough."

"Content?" said Darla.

"He's pleasant to the customers. No apparent angst. Of course I haven't seen him after work or very much anywhere else either if it comes to that," said Sally. "Just the one time on the job."

"Were you able to speak with him?" asked Marty.

"Not privately. Just ordered coffee and a burger. He served me. He was nice enough. Seemed like a good guy, I thought," she said. "It's none of my business, but knowing what I do about this case; well, I hope you two have a good reason for wanting to mess with his life. I mean if you've already moved on. He for sure has."

"It's about him and his children," said Darla, with a touch of irritation that this-agent-would even have the brass to voice an opinion on their private affairs.

"Okay," said Sally, "Robby said to give you what you needed. Here's his work address. Oh, and he lives there in a small apartment in the back.

"Okay, thank you, miss Abrams. You've been a big help," said Marty.

"You're welcome," she said. She rose bowed slightly in Darla's direction, which bow was returned; and then she was gone.

"Tomorrow, Marty. We go there tomorrow. And he's going to talk to us if we have to tie him down," said Darla.

"Okay, I'm right there with you. I'll be carrying your spear," he said. She nodded her appreciation.

"Marty…"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to do my best, my very best, to fix things; but he has to meet me somewhere in the middle. I've thought about this a lot. There is not the slightest doubt in my mind that this-problem-is of his making, not the kids. My divorcing him-well-okay, that was me, and well, you too," she said.

"It is mostly his fault, I mean about the kids. But, Darla, we blew it in trying to make him suck up to us to get more time with the kids. I knew it at the time. He's one of those guys, who never gives an inch, no matter who's right or wrong. He is totally one way-his way," said Marty.

"I guess. No, I know you're right. But it's water under the bridge now. This is his chance, and ours too, I know that. If he blows it, well, he blows it. We're-I'm-at the end of my tether," she said.

----------

"Long time no see, amigo," said Gabriel Montoya.

"Yeah, it's been a little while," I said.

"Two years is a little while?" said the visitor. "And what are you doing here. Mister Roberto was almost embarrassed to tell me where I could find you."

"Whatever, Gabriel. Whaddya got?" I said. It seemed my best bud and workmate had seen fit to find out where I was. Well, I guess I didn't blame him. I probably would have done about the same had the roles been reversed. But, I would be talking to him at some point anyway.

"What I got is that guy Griswald on the stick-skewer," he said. My smile was as broad as all outdoors. "Oh, and that judge Carlson too. The two of them essentially share the same pipe." My informant was smiling to beat the band. It was clear he was having a ball-skewering-a couple of corrupt legal eagles. Bringing them down was going to be a pleasure, that much was clear to me.

"And the other two?' I said.

"There clean. Nothing," he said. I nodded. I was surprised that I didn't feel disappointment that we'd come up empty on the two cheaters. I guess I was getting over being screwed over. Helluva thing.

"Gabriel, turn the stuff you got over to this guy." I wrote a short note to him. There was a name and precinct number on it.

"A cop? Who is this Jess Richter guy?" said Gabriel.

"My ex-partner. From back in the day," I said. He nodded.

"Okay, consider it done," he said.

We talked a little more, but then my friend the drug dealer was gone. I knew he'd carry out what I'd laid on him. Hell, I knew he'd enjoy it.

----------

"Yeah, I was there when they took him," said Marty.

"But, how-what?" said Darla.

"Drugs. I had not a clue. I'm still in a state of disbelief. We'll represent him, but the D.A. has made it clear that a plea would best serve him. Still, I'll leave it to Malcom to make that choice," said Marty.

"My god!" said Darla. "He could get ten years!"

"More maybe. But, if he pleads out, it could be as little as ten years. Oh, and judge Carlson was in the net too," said Marty.

"What! Do you think…"

"I do think. The two of them helped us in the divorce. I think your ex set them up and lowered boom because of how bad he was shafted in that divorce. I have no doubt we've been under scrutiny too. But, lucky for us there was nothing to find," he said.

When you talk to him… " started Marty.

"Yes-yes, of course. Do you really think he's after us too?" she said.

"Like I said, I don't know or have any way of knowing, but I'm of the opinion that you absolutely have to soften his heart, Darla. Our Red is likely still one very bitter and angry man if I'm any judge, and I am," he said.

"What are we going to do now, I mean here in the office?" said Darla. "Griswald was the senior partner."

"Take it over, you and me. Take it over. We'll play it straight with Malcom, keep paying him his base and such. When he gets out, I mean if he's convicted, he'll have something to start over with. He won't be earning anything since he isn't working and won't be, but he's the managing partner and therefore has a claim on the profits," said Marty.

"Yes, good. I'm good with that," she said. "Jesus Marty, he founded the firm. It's gonna be real strange without him around. And judge Carlson, Red, if it is him, must really be on the warpath to go after a sitting judge.

"And, add to that we have eleven employees out here that need the job. They're counting on us," said Darla. He nodded.

"Yeah, well now we, you and I, are going to have to be picking up the slack. We are going to be real busy.

"You still going to see your him, your ex, tomorrow?" said Marty.

"Yes, and now it's just gotten a bit more urgent," she said.

"Okay. I will have to be here though. I'm going to be asking the presiding for continuances on Malcom's cases. I know he currently has four in the hopper. We'll get 'em, the continuances, that is," he said. She nodded.

----------

I guess I'd mellowed over the past many months, and one of the reasons for that was Joanna Winthrop. She and her husband were easy to work for, and I did as much as I could to make it easy on them.

"Sooner or later you two will be meeting up, Red, don't blow it on account of an overly sensitized male ego. Talk to her. A casual relationship is better than none when two people break up," said Joanna.

"Yeah, maybe, but personally, I doubt that she and I will ever be meeting up. She doesn't know where I live, and… " Suddenly, I began to wonder. Could there-maybe…

"Anyway, Joanna, I'll keep what you've said in mind. I find I don't hate her anymore, nor really her lover if it comes to that. But, it's been too long now. They're getting on with their thing, and I'm getting on with mine. It works for me," I said.

"Hmm, maybe," she said. "Maybe."

I'd told Joanna Winthrop that I was getting on and that I was fine. I wasn't. Darla was never far from my mind. To say I was jealous of her lover, her husband, didn't begin to cover it. I was super jealous. I still loved the woman more than anything-and-I hated her too. She'd killed me. At one and the same time, I wanted to take her in my arms and love her and stomp on her prostrate and helpless form. Rational? Hell no. It was what it was. And then it happened.

----------

She didn't look good; she looked fantastic! White business suit-ever the lawyer. Curled fluffed out tresses. Heels and makeup designed to enslave a man. The woman had to be immortal; she just didn't age; it wasn't fair. Me? I looked poor, average, and harassed; well it had been a long day.

She stood just inside the door staring at me in my white not too stained apron holding the coffee pot in front of me. I set it down on the counter warmer, turned and headed back into the kitchen.

"What's the matter, Red?" said Joanna who was busy getting ready for the evening rush.

"Remember what you said a few days ago about my ex and I meeting up down the line?" I said.

"Yes," she said. I turned slowly and looked back at the swinging door I'd just come through.

"She's here?" said Joanna. I nodded slightly.

"Oh my god!" she said.

"Yeah, that," I said.

"Well," said Joanna.

"Well what?" I said.

"You know what, Red," she said. I sighed and nodded.

"Okay, I guess so," I said. She nodded toward the door coaxing me to go through it. I turned and went out to face the music.

She'd taken a seat in a booth. I picked up the coffee pot and headed for her. "Coffee, miss," I said. I wasn't quite being an asshole.

"Yes, coffee would be good, Red. Would you have a moment to sit with me?" she said.

"I guess so," I said.

"Roberto?" I said.

"Yes, he told me where to find you. He's concerned about you if you care to know, Red. Frankly we all are, me especially."

"Oh, that right?" I said.

"Yes."

"Why would that be?" I said.

"Red, I still have a place in my heart for you believe it or not. And-well-I need to apologize for the way, well, the way the divorce went. I thought, Marty and I thought; well, there was a method to our madness. And, it was madness. We realized that too late. By then, well, things just took on a life of their own, and well, here we are," she said.

I stared at her. "Whatever," I said. "So, all of that said, why are you here? I've gotten on with my life. I suspect so have you and-him. So, why are you bothering me?"

"Like I said, Red, I still love you on some level, and I need you to forgive me, me and Marty. Please!" she said. She was being earnest.

"Consider yourself forgiven. Anything else?" I said.

"Red! Please, your just shining me on. I can tell from your tone of voice. You need to help me out here. Please," she said.

"I do?" I said.

"And, there is something else," she said.

"Yes?"

"The children. Our children, Red," she said. "They want to talk to you. You know, kinda reconnect. Would you…"

"Reconnect. Why? I know what they think of me. I've been replaced by your lover. For the record, nothing you ever did to me mattered but that. And yes, I know it was as much my own fault as yours his or anything else. More in fact. I admit it.

"But regardless of any of that, it is clear to me that they just don't really give a rat's ass about me anymore, and I have the tapes to prove it," I said. "Didn't know that, did you, Darla. Wait a minute! Did Roberto… " All of a sudden I was real angry with my ex-bud.

She looked down. "Yes, I heard that there were tapes about-well, not good things," she said.

"Yeah, not good things," I said. "So, why would I believe that they want to reconnect with me?" I said.

"They're older now, Red. They see things a little differently than they did then. Really."

"Let me ask you, Darla. If it came to a choice between him and me, who would they pick?" I said. I could see I'd struck a nerve. "That's what I thought."

"Red, there doesn't have to be any of that. Choices, I mean. Marty's a decent man. He hopes, as much as I do, that you will want to become part of the family again. Frankly, Red, you running off like you did was pretty juvenile. You need to wake up and fly right," she said. "It's always been about you not feeling adequate to the task of fatherhood because of your damn male ego."

I looked at her with narrowed eyes. But, at the same time, Joanna had said pretty much the same to me over the last many months. I had to allow that maybe the two of them were at least partly right. My male ego was it. Well, okay. At least the woman in front of me wasn't actually insulting me.

"When would it happen?" I said.

"You mean you'll talk to them?" she said.

"I'll listen to them. How much I'd be willing to talk to them would depend on what I heard. I heard them opting for that man of yours instead of me. It hurt a lot, ego or not. But, I will listen to them.

"But, you still haven't answered my question," I said.

"What question?"

"If it came to choice between him and me, who would they choose?" I said.

"I don't actually know. They did tell me that they didn't want to ever have to make a choice like that. And frankly, given the circumstances, I think that they're position on the matter is not unreasonable. Do you think it is?" she said.

"Honestly? I don't know. I just know that I'm their real dad. I just know that I worked my ass off to do for them. I just know that all of the money I earned went into the coffers for them I never bought myself anything except food and clothes. everything else was for them or for you," I said. "And for that, I was accused of neglect and what amounted to passive abuse."

"Red, I know. And, I know you love them still. I know what you heard on those tapes was hurtful, and I know that my divorcing you killed your heart. But, I also know that if you would just lighten up a little, some part of what we cost you, and what you cost yourself might still be gotten back. You owe it to yourself, and to us, to at least try. How about it?" she said.

"Saturday, here, 2:00PM; I have to work, but it's slow that time of day. We can talk then. But, just the kids and you, but not him. If that's acceptable then set it up.

"Is there anything else? Because I'm getting paid to work not to yak all day with you," I said.

"It's acceptable. I'll set it up. And, Red, thanks for talking to me. It was nice," she said. I nodded, rose, and went into the backroom.

"Well, that was short," said Joanna. Her brow was knitted.

"It was all business. She wants me to talk to the kids. Says that they want to talk to me," I said.

"You going to?" she said.

Yes. I guess so. Supposed to happen Saturday, here, at 2:00PM. That okay with you, boss?" I said.

"Well good. Of course it's all right with me," said Joanna. "Oh, and Rob will be back from visiting his mom, by Saturday. You can take the day off if you want."

"Nah, I wanna work. But an hour or so in the afternoon would be appreciated," I said.

"Like I said, stud, you got it," she was smiling. She was a caring woman was Joanna Winthrop. Rob was a lucky sonovabitch.

----------

I saw the red Lexus pull up. I saw them get out. Jennifer took a deep breath as she and her brother, stony faced, made their way up the four steps and into the restaurant.

I stood and met them half way. The place was empty at that moment. I knew Joanna and Rob, who were in the back, would likely be listening in at least in part. But, I didn't care.

"Hello, Jenn, Randy," I said. They nodded. No hello dad, no hugs or smiles. This was going to be a real uncomfortable meeting. I had the feeling that they wouldn't even have been here were it not for pressure from their mother. Well, what was, was.

"Hi," said Jennifer, finally, as she took her seat. Randy remained silent.

"I guess we're supposed to talk," I said. "You kids are what now, 19 and 20?"

"Yes, we are," said Randy. "And, well, mom and Mar… mom thought it would be a good idea for us to try and reconnect. That was the word, right, Jenn?"

"Yes, reconnect, that was it," said my daughter.

"Your mom thought it was a good idea?" I said.

"Yes," they both said at once. I smiled. It was so obvious that they didn't want to be there that I almost felt sorry for them. I decided to make it short.

"Look, you two, it's clear to me that 'you' don't want to be here. Since we sat down neither of you has made the effort to call me dad or father. I guess, I wasn't the best of one, so maybe I don't deserve the title anymore. So, anyway, let me make it easy for you.

"Go on back to your mom and her new man, your new dad, and be happy. I'll get along okay. Tell your momma that. And tell her… " It finally hit me. I was about to lose it. I stood, turned, and left. I left through the back. I didn't even see their faces; I didn't want to. But, Joanna did, and she would tell me later. I just walked. And I did lose it, but thank god not in front of them.

----------

"No mom. We never got a chance to do any of that. He just up and walked out," said Randy.

"Jenn, is that true?" said Darla. Marty was looking on; he had suspicion written all over his face.

"Sort of," said Jenn.

"Dear heart," said Marty, "what did you guys do or say?"

"More what we didn't say," said Jenn. "We were talking, maybe five minutes. Then he looked at each of us kind of funny and held up his hand to stop us from talking. Then…"

"Then?" said Darla.

"Well, he made a big deal out of the fact that we hadn't said hello to him or called him dad or father. But I did say hi, I mean after we had taken our seats," said Jenn.

"And you Randy?" said Marty. Randy looked down.

Darla glanced in Marty's direction. "Damn it!" she said. "That poor man." Marty came to her and took her in his arms.

"You did what you could. It's over. It's over for him and for all of us. Time to get on with things," said Marty.

"You two head on back to college. You need to be in the dorms by sundown," said Marty.

"Yes, the dorms, your dad paid for," shot Darla at her two children. Then she ran out of the room. The silence among the three remaining in the room was deafening-to borrow a phrase.

----------

"Happy anniversary, dear," said Darla.

"And to you, dear lady," said Marty. "Five years. Good years."

"Yes, good years," said Darla. We should go back out and mix with the guests," he said. It is our anniversary that they are celebrating. Must be a hundred folks here today," said Darla.

"Yes, actually a few more than that." He was smiling. He kissed her deeply. "You're wonderful," he said.

"And here are the happy couple," said someone as they stepped into the manicured gardens of the hotel Rob Roy. No one noticed the casually clad figure leaning against the column on the staircase to the right. He was the only one not cheering. The only one not happy to be there. But he was there, and the sadness he felt was large.

"Goodbye forever, my darling wife," I said quietly to myself, as I turned to leave. Be well, and be happy. I am so sorry that I failed you-and the children."

The next days were the most melancholy of my life. More so than even my divorce from her. The divorce was tinged with anger, but, not with sadness. The anger was gone. It had been replaced with a kind of emotional malaise. And, now, with sadness, a kind of slow emotional death. And, there was no cure, none I knew of at any rate.

I picked up the phone. The lawyer and I spoke for some minutes. It would be the last time that we would do so, or so I hoped.

The day before Roberto had been hard to calm down, but I'd finally got him to shut up and to just listen.

"Roberto, you've got the business. I signed it over to you for one dollar. Lawyer Hofschneider will collect the dollar from you and hold it for me indefinitely. Sign the documents and do a good job running your business.

Roberto had the business now. The kids all of my heretofore untouched savings and investments: $180,000 worth. They would each be given half when the graduated from college; now a year distant.

Me? I still had forty-nine dollars in my wallet and a job at Rob and Joanna's restaurant; and oh, but no bank account.

Finally, after some little time, I'd began to see that life was good, going to be good, and there was evening and morning-five years later. Well, there was no way I could do it in six days; that was for someone in a significantly higher pay grade.

----------

2008

My kids, well, them as used to be my kids, were grown. Jenn was twenty-five and Randy was twenty-four. I hadn't got much news about them over the next several years, but then I did. I had a visit from an old friend.

"Well, I'll be damned, if it isn't the ghost of Jess Richter. When was the last time I saw you for Chryssakes!" I said.

"Yeah it has been a while," he said.

"Yeah a dozen years if I remember rightly," I said. "What brings you over here? You're still 'coping' it, right?" I said.

"Yes, I'm a lieutenant now. Fixing to retire in the not too distant future. Twenty-five years is long enough," he said. "But, Red, I'm here on business," he said.

"Business?" I said.

"Yeah. Red, your daughter, Jennifer is in over her head. I'm giving you a heads up because I know deep down you love those two kids of yours and maybe they'll listen to you. It's straight that they haven't listened to you ex or her current hubby. Somebody's got to get through to her, or she's going down, Red," he said.

"The hell you say," I said. "Jess, tell me, what's the beef?" I said.

"Her boyfriend, fiancé, has got her dealing, Red. And before you go off on me, There is no doubt about it. I caught her myself, Red. I caught her dealing. And I let her go. And, the only reason I did that was because I wanted to come to you first and give you a chance to administer s a little tough love," he said.

I sank back into the booth I was standing next to, and stared at him. "Red, this is a zero tolerance state. A first offense is a mandatory five years at the minimum." I nodded. I knew what he said was true.

"Does Darla and her asshole know that you cut her loose?" I said.

"No. I came here first. It was today; well, in the wee smalls that I popped her." I drove her to her parent's house, I mean Darla's house." He'd caught my look when he'd referred to her parent's house.

"Okay, Jess. I'll take care of it muy pronto.

"Jess, thanks a million. If you ever need anything…"

"I know. And, you're welcome," he said. We talked a little longer, but truth known I was glad when he left. I had things to do, and I had to do them muy pronto!

----------

"Your daughter, huh?" he said.

"Yes. Gabriel, can you do anything about this? Maybe get the boyfriend to listen to reason?" I said. His smile was all the confirmation I needed.

"No problem, my friend. And, I will put the fear of god into her as well. She won't be dealing anymore; I can assure you of that," he said. I nodded.

Roger Dillard was getting out of his car when everything went dark. He was found the next day with both of his arms and legs broken, and his ability to perform sexually in the future in serious doubt.

Jennifer Clayton was walking to her car when five very large fellows forced her into a waiting van. She was blindfolded, bound, gagged, and stuffed into a body bag. She was deposited forty miles from the nearest telephone, food, or water. She was told by a man with a very soft voice, as she would later remember, to never see, speak to, or communicate with one Roger Dillard ever again-that this would be her only warning. Her terror would guarantee her adherence to said warning.

Two days later, a chastened Jennifer Clayton, made it to a filling station and called her parents: Marty and Darla Schwartz.

----------

"Morning, Sally," said Roberto Santana.

Good morning sir," said Sally. "You hear about Jennifer Clayton, sir?"

"No, what's up?" he said, narrowing his eyes. "That boyfriend of hers hasn't messed with her has he?"

"No sir, quite the opposite. He's in traction, and she's half dead from exposure and thirst," said Sally.

"What! How'd you hear about this?"

"From our friend on the force, lieutenant Richter," she said.

"Richter? Get him on the line for me, okay?"

The call was short. It'd likely been a gang thing. But if so, it was muted. Dillard had been hurt real bad, but not killed. The girl had had a long walk. But, she'd had plenty of time to think over her situation.

No one knew who had done it. The conventional wisdom had it that mister Dillard, a known drug dealer, had stepped on the wrong toes and the owners of those toes had stepped on his in return-real hard. The girl was just along for the ride. She'd evidently been Dillard's squeeze, though now that seemed to be a past tense thing.

He stood in front of his office window and spoke rhetorically to an old friend a hundred miles away. "It was you, wasn't it, Red. I know it was you. Oh, maybe not in person, but you had it done, I know." Roberto turned and went back to work. He had a business to run.

----------

"We gave her something to think about. Him more than that," said Gabriel.

"Good, good," I said. "You say she got something to think about, but how is she physically?"

"She's all right. She'll have sore feet for a while. She had a long walk, but she'll be all right. And, she won't be looking to hook up with him anymore that's for sure." I had to smile at the ingenuity and resources of my friend.

"Good, good," I said. "That's very good. I'll buy her a new pair of shoes." Gabriel Montoya smiled.

"You know you really should: buy her the shoes, I mean. It would be like telling her. You know, that you know about what went on without really telling her you knew," said Gabriel. My turn to smile. Then I frowned.

"But, I don't know her shoe size," I said.

"Madre Dios amigo, you know people in the PI business. Figure it out," he said, and laughed.

"Yeah-yeah, I can find out. Okay, I'm gonna do it. Why the hell not!" I said.

----------

"He's history. Messed with the wrong crowd, I guess. Our baby is out of the woods with that asshole boyfriend of hers," said Darla.

"Yes, Dillard's gone, but we need to keep an eye on her. There are other badies out there that would have no trouble getting her involved again," said Marty.

"No, no, not this time. Her own experience set her straight. I'm pretty sure she'd run for cover at the first sign of anyone coming near to her with drugs," said Darla.

"Marty? She is our baby, isn't she?" said Darla.

"Damn straight she is. Darla, of all of the things that you have done to make my life worth living, number one among them was letting me become an actual part of the family. And, before you say it, yes, I know Red is still part of it too even if he doesn't understand what's happened to him-us-everybody. And, for what it's worth, I'm sure that one of these days he'll come around. We just have to be patient," said Marty.

She shook her head slowly from side to side. "I don't know, Marty, you might be right, but I don't hold out much hope. And if he knew… " the thought hit them both at the same time.

"Do you think… " started Darla.

"Not really, but maybe. If he did, if he even knew…"

"Marty, this has Red written all over it. We may never know, but I am almost certain, thinking about it, that he was involved," said Darla.

"If so, I know a few people," said Marty. She nodded, slowly, thoughtfully.

"Yes-we do," she said, "and we're gonna tap those resources big time."

----------

2009

I was tending the tables getting ready for the breakfast crowd which would begin streaming in at 6:00A.M.

"Hey, Red, you've got a call. Take it back here. The guy said it was important," said Rob Winthrop.

"Hello," I said… "What?… Of course. I'll be down there in half an hour. Sit tight." I hung up.

"Rob, I gotta go. Something's come up. Something big. I'll call you after I know what's going on," I said, as I wiped my hands on my apron. Stripping the apron, I was out the door even as my boss was waving at me to get going.

The county lockup was relatively new. I'd never seen it let alone visited it. But, now it had one inmate that I was very much interested in getting out of it even if I had to slip him a hack saw!

I waited in the visiting area for my friend. I stood as he was ushered into the room.

"Gabriel, Good to see you and bad to see you. What's going on?" I said.

"They busted me. My accounts are frozen temporarily, and I can't make bail. I was hoping-well-that maybe you could help me out," he said.

"Drugs?" I said. He smiled.

"Marijuana. My favorite mood medicine," he said.

"That's it? Marijuana?" I said.

"Of course, I don't mess with the hard stuff, too dangerous," he said. "And the cops don't chase us purveyors of maryjane with quite the same enthusiasm as they do other stuff, the hard stuff.

"Red, I got the money, I just can't get to it. You'll be reimbursed," he said. "My boys ain't got no money. And all of a sudden I find I have no friends who do have a buck or two except you. Makes one wonder," said Gabriel.

"The hell you'll reimburse me. I'll get you outta here and defended. And, you will not, I repeat will not, be repaying me. You've done more than enough for me already. Besides we're best buds," I said.

"Have they set bail?" I said.

"No, I'm being arraigned later this morning," he said. "They'll set bail after that."

"Okay, I'll be back," I said.

I learned from the marshall overseeing things at the lock up that arraignments would commence at 9:00AM sharp. I had someone to see and that immediately.

----------

I strode into their offices hell bent for leather. I knew which office was hers; it hadn't been that long ago. Well, actually it had.

"Sir, can I help you? Sir!" But, I was past her before she could utter another utterance.

I literally burst through the door. They were both there going over some documents.

I looked at him. "Get out," I said. Did I mention that some people may have considered me aggressive?

"Red! What the hell are you doing here? And, you will not, I repeat not, give orders to my husband who also happens to be one of the owners of this establishment. Now if you have something that needs saying say it. He and I have no secrets from each other," said Darla. I had to smirk; she caught it, and mellowed.

"Whatever. I need money, and I need it now, within the hour," I said.

"What? Money? What? How much," she said.

"Not sure. That'll be partly up to you," I said.

"Me?" she said.

"You're going to bail out my friend and defend him when his trial comes up-for free," I said. I was gambling. I knew that the two of them might make me pay a price for any assistance I was able to get out of them. But, I did have a hole card. Gabriel Montoya had saved my-our-baby. Gotten her out of a bad situation. I'd lay that on 'em if they decided to be recalcitrant.

"The hell we are," said Marty. "Not without knowing a helluva lot more, and you're going to need to calm your ass down, and I mean now." I sighed.

"Listen, I need a favor. I ain't got no money, and I figure you two owe me. Help my friend out, and I'll call it all even. Hatchet buried," I said.

Darla looked from me to her husband and back to me. "Really. And what makes you think that we'd be at all interested in burying the hatchet with you, as you so blithely put it," she said. That stopped me. Her attitude stopped me. I began nodding my head very slowly. I looked from one to the other. My eyes narrowed; Darla picked up on it. She knew she'd gone too far. She recouped.

"Red, I'm sorry. I take it back. But, you do need to calm down as Marty suggested. Okay?" I was just short of snorting. But, I controlled myself. This was for my friend; I'd eat a bus load of her shit if I had to.

"Okay. I need you to help my friend. I owe him. I'll pay you back, and that's a promise. But, I need you to front his bail. And-I need you to defend him in court it if it goes to trial. He's my friend-my only friend, Darla. He needs me, and I need you to help me out here for the short run. Like I said, I'll pay you back. Believe me I wouldn't be here if this wasn't real important," I said. Her turn to nod.

"Bail for who?" said Marty.

"Gabriel Montoya," I said. Marty rose and left the room.

"Okay, Red, why is this Montoya guy in the slam?" said Darla.

"Possession of Marijuana-ten pounds of it," I said.

"Jesus! You do know that this is a zero tolerance state," she said.

"Yeah, I know, and I know that judges can be moved to tolerance anyway if they see it in their interest to do so," I said. "You have to get him out. I will never ask you for anything again as long as I live, but I am asking, begging you, for this." Well, my ego was already in the shitter, adding a little begging into the mix wasn't all that big a deal.

"Okay, Red. I can see that this is a big deal for sure as far as you're concerned. Marty and I will take this on, and-we'll see what we do about the bail. But, there will be a small price for our generosity-mine and Marty's," she said.

Well, I knew they wouldn't be helping me out of the goodness of their hearts.

"And that would include?" I said.

"You become a guest at our house-mine and Marty's-for every major holiday hereafter forever; and, you stay till the last dog is hung at all of them," she said. She was smiling. I wasn't.

"Okay. I guess, I've got no choice," I said. I ran the major holidays through my mind. The next one up was Thanksgiving. That was a month off.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Red?" she said.

"No."

"No? A nice looking man like you?" she said.

"Cut the crap, Darla. I'm forty-nine years old. What pretty little piece of fluff is going to be interested in a busboy my age," I said. It was not a question.

"Busboy? You're still working at that little restaurant?"

"Don't knock it. The Winthrops have been good to me. Better than some others I could name. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, Red. No offense," she said. She'd offended me plenty, but now was not the time to make an issue of any of that.

"Okay, I've got the skinny," said Marty, entering the room just at that moment.

"It'll be judge Hastings," he said looking at me, your guy has hope. But, eight kilos of weed, Red? What kind of friends do you have?" he said. It occurred to me that it might be time to play by hole card.

"Let me ask you, Marty old bud. Did Jennifer ever get those expensive walking shoes somebody sent her?" I said. I could swear the two of them suddenly had eyes as big as dinner plates.

"What did you say? You mean Montoya… " Darla started. I kept my mouth shut. I'd said enough.

Marty was suddenly nodding purposefully. "But of course. He'd know who… " His smile broadened significantly. I thought it odd that he'd be so happy about discovering how my kid was saved and by whom. But, then again, maybe Jennifer really was his kid now, at least in any real sense if not the biological one.

The bail was made. The trial six weeks later-and it lasted a full week as it turned out-ended in a hung jury. Gabriel was cut loose. The D.A. wasn't thrilled, but he had bigger fish to fry, and would not be retrying the case. But, the fallout from the case would not be limited to my friend getting off, no indeed.

I did make Thanksgiving Day dinner, and I came bearing gifts, sort of.

----------

"I see you're keeping up your end of the bargain," said Darla, smiling, "I appreciate that," as she stepped aside to let me into the house that used to be ours-mine and hers. I nodded.

"Yes, well, thank you for that," I said. I looked her up and down. She was still the most beautiful woman in the world as far as I'm concerned. She noticed my look and had the good grace to blush and not say anything. I handed her a card.

"For me?" she said, looking me askance.

"You and Marty," I said. She caught my tone when I mentioned Marty's name: it was friendly. "What you did for him was big. I'm personally grateful."

"You're welcome," she said. But, come in come in. There are people here who want to see you."

Just then Jennifer walked in followed closely behind by her brother. "Hi father," said Jenn.

"Hi dad," said Randy. "Jenn, and I-well-we just want you to know that we're glad you're here," he said.

There were more words and, no, I didn't cry maybe later but not then. And then I was sent out to the patio to carry Marty's spear in the barbecuing effort. Yes, even on Thanksgiving there was a deal of barbecuing going on: it was fish. Well, hell, I liked fish too.

We ate, we drank nog, we talked about nothing important, and then it was time to leave. I was looking for Darla to say goodbye, but she found me, and she wasn't happy.

"What's the meaning of this?" she said. I gave her a look of not understanding. She thrust a certified check into my face and fairly oozed ire.

"It's a check for your services to me and Gabriel," I said. "I promised to pay you back. You knew I was going to pay you back. It's enough right?" I said. Marty who hadn't seen it, took it from her and looked at it.

"Red, this is way over the top. You don't owe us anything. And, even if you did, this is way over the top. Our expenses weren't even half this amount."

"Look, I admit, I guessed at the amount. But you did the work you should get paid," I said. Darla suddenly had a funny look on her.

"Still keeping up with the Jones aren't we, Red." It was not a question.

"Look, I always pay my debts. I owed you for that. It was big at least to me. I just hope you'll accept it and keep it in good health, the check, I mean. I can afford it," I said.

I could see that Darla was doing her best not to hurt me. She knew damn well that I was making ten bucks an hour tops, and ten-thousand dollars would have to have drained every dime I could possibly have raised from all sources; that, since I had two years before given all of my life savings to the kids for their college.

"Red, it's unnecessary and too damn much if it were. I will not accept it. We made a deal it's true. But the deal was that you'd be here for every holiday from now on. That was my price, our price, mine and Marty's; and, we're holding you to it.

"We're rich, Red, and you're not. So what! And that's not a put down. We don't need the money. What we need is your friendship if not your love; not your damn money. How about it? No more of this messing with the macho ego thing. Okay? Please!" she said. "Red, you're what you are? We're what we are. I have Marty now; he's my love as you once were. I'm hoping that the next holiday will see you here with a squeeze of your own. You need a woman, and this money should be used by you in courting her. Okay?" she said.

"Well-I-I-okay, I guess. I didn't mean to…"

"Oh shut up you big lug," she said. And, she came to me and gave me a hug and a big kiss-on the cheek.

There was more said, but it all boiled down to me taking the check back, and figuring out a way to give it back to the loan company that I'd got it from. That figured to be easy enough, since the guy who'd okayed the loan was a friend of mine from my PI days: somebody who owed me.

Jennifer walked me out to my car.

"Dad, you and I-well we need to get to know each other better," she said. "I owe you a lot. So does Randy, and we both know it.

"We've both graduated from college you know," she said. "And, mister Hofschneider and mister Santana delivered the money you sent to them."

I did know that they'd graduated. I had kept tabs on them, well, more or less. I had been there for each of their graduations too. They didn't know it, but I had been. They'd invited me, but at the time I was still too hurt to allow myself the luxury of accepting anything from them.

"Yes, I know," I said.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" I said.

"I love you dad," she said. Boy, did that ever hit home to me. I started to mist up.

"I love you kids too," I said. She hugged me, and I hugged her back.

I headed back to my own digs.

----------

Darla had made the case that I should start looking for a new woman. It struck me that I hadn't made any effort to do that. I'd had a few meaningless dates, but nothing worth remembering over the years. I'd stayed busy, but almost totally detached socially. I now realized that I had not really been looking. Darla for me was irreplaceable. I had held to the hope, no matter how irrational a hope it was, that her lover would somehow disappear, and I could make a second run at her. I'd have done different the second time around; I'd promised myself that. Well, it was time to cut myself loose from my irrational hopes. No better place to do that than my old haunt: The Lonely Hearts Bar and Grill.

I was sitting there now, at the bar. I had a drink in front of me, but I wasn't really drinking. I was cruising. The bartender was a beauty, a Filipina named Christy. She was looking at me funny. I figured that had to be because I I'd been staring at her.

"Something the matter, mister?" she said. I didn't answer her right away.

"How old are you?" I said.

"Huh? What?" she said. I looked pointedly at her name tag.

"Christy, how old are you?" I repeated. She looked suspicious.

"Thirty-five,' she said.

"What would you say about having dinner with an older man who makes about the same amount of money as you do?" I said.

"What? Are you nuts?" she said.

"We can go dutch if you want," I said.

You've got a helluva a line, mister… " she started.

"Red," I said.

"Red. You ask me my age. You ask me out. You tell me it's gonna be dutch. Did any girl ever go out with you with a line like that?" she said.

"No, not yet," I said. She looked curious, intrigued.

"Okay, well I guess I'll be the first then. Pick me up at seven tonight, here. Oh, and make no mistake; you're payin'," she said. I nodded. The hunt was on.

-----------------------------

   Series:Red and Sally
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She just couldn't stay faithful; the cost would be high
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/58292/red-and-sally
Published:2008-11-02
I had gotten off work early. A localized power outage downtown had shut us down. I'm Red Benson; the Red is short for Redeker, and no I have no idea where such a name came from, supposedly my grandmother came up with it. Oh, and I have brown hair not red.

I work as a lathe operator in a machine shop: XL-Fabrications. The pay is good, the work dirty, and the days can sometimes be long. It was Friday. I headed home a little before 11:00AM, way earlier than my usual 5:00PM. Sally, I knew, would be glad to see me. I'd be taking her for a fancy lunch at the Hyatt; and then, the way I figured it, she would be required to reward me.

My smile was as wide as all outdoors as I entered the home Sally and I had shared since our marriage twenty-five years before. She'd been barely nineteen at the time and me twenty-one. Yes, immature, but we'd clicked and made it work, unlike many who'd married so young.

There was a car parked in the driveway, a Chevy Impala, I didn't recognize it. Sally had a visitor. She had not mentioned expecting anyone during breakfast. Breakfast was always for us. No matter how hectic our life and schedules became, breakfast was our time. Since she hadn't mentioned who might be coming over, I assumed that the visitor was a surprise. I was about to discover just how big a surprise it was, not to her but to me.

No one in the front of the house, I headed down the hall to the bedrooms. Our bedroom door was partially open. What I saw killed my heart. My wife was getting a serious banging from a man I'd never seen before. It was a minute or so, I'm not really sure, before they realized that I was there. Sally shrieked. Red!

Without a word I turned slowly and walked out. I headed for the Scoundrel, my favorite watering hole. I needed a drink-or eight or ten.

******

I was predictable I guess. She found me in less than two hours. She came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped. "Jesus!" I said.

"Sorry for startling you," she said. "Can we talk?" When I turned to her, she noticed my reddened eyes and puffy cheeks. I could see it distressed her. She clearly realized that she was going to have a harder time than she thought selling whatever excuse she'd brought with her for the occasion.

"Fuck you," I said, literally sneering at her

"Red, I am so sorry you saw that, but frankly it's not the end of the world. What I-we were doing was just fucking. There was no love, no permanency, no commitment, nothing but sex." The bartender ten feet away was trying his damndest not to listen. "You were not ever supposed to know about it, and then you never would have been hurt. I never denied you anything Red, and I never will. It's just that, I need more than you can give. I need more, I just do.

"Then why the fuck are you here? Go get it. Just leave me alone," I said. "I got along fine before I met you; I'll get along fine now. Just leave me the fuck alone."

"Red! Wake up! And stop the awful language, please." She was clearly worried now, and I loved it. But, she was far from through. "I am not leaving you for that man, or for any man. You're stuck with me," she said, trying to sound comforting. "I love you, Redeker, and I always will; but I need to have you understand where I am coming from here. I promise to treat you as I always have, heck maybe even better; but I just have to have my little something on the side from time to time. Okay?"

I was stunned. I was near to going insane with hurt or rage or something! I didn't know which way to turn or what to do. I just looked at her. "Okay? Are you fucking crazy! No, I am not all right. I'm hurt and filled with hate. I don't know how to say it any clearer than that," I said.

"Red, I said I was sorry. I really, really didn't mean for you to see that. God, how awful it must have been for you. I'll never be able to forgive myself for being so careless. Redeker, I'm begging you. Please come home. Please!

"Right now I need to take you home and help you to forget that scene you witnessed a little while ago. You'll see, it'll be fine. Just leave everything to me."

I was too overcome to argue further. My mind, my very soul was in turmoil. The travesty of the things I'd witnessed was more than I could get my head around. I had to think. "Leave everything to you? Trust you? I don't think so," I said.

That I was crushed would be an understatement of heroic proportions. She had made me her cuckold, and she was trying to make me like it, or at least accept it. And she had as much as said that she intended to continue doing it.

We had a daughter, grown now and living on the East Coast with her husband of three years and their two boys. I was mortally concerned that she-they-would find out what had happened. Could I tolerate my daughter knowing that I was a cuckold? No! My humiliation was already way beyond the pale. For Janie to know that her father was a wimpy nothing in his wife's eyes would have been far too much for me to bear.

I was confused and scared and angry and sad-mostly sad. My wife of twenty-five years didn't love me. She said she did, but she didn't. She couldn't if she could do this to me, talk to me the way she had. Treat me like a little boy who needed to be comforted while she was out getting laid by every sport in town. I had to think.

I didn't know how I hadn't seen it coming. There had to have been signs. Something! I decided I'd have to call Janie, our daughter soon. I couldn't let the woman have the edge in that conversation. Janie had to know that her old man wasn't some wimpy little shit.

I was already getting to the place where I knew that my marriage was over. She, my cheating wife had to realize that too If not now, then sooner or later.

I was not sure about moving out immediately; that was a complication. But, even if by some miracle some miserable vestige of our marriage were to somehow stumble on, I had decided that sex between us was done forever. She'd said I didn't satisfy her, so her allowing me mercy fucks to placate me wasn't about to happen. I had some pride, damaged certainly, but I still had some no matter what.

I don't know how we got home. I don't remember driving. She was saying something about picking up my truck tomorrow. I climbed the steps to what had been our happy home like a condemned prisoner going to the gallows.

"Come on baby, let momma make you better," she said. I looked at her like she was the one who was insane now.

"Red? Are you okay, baby?"

I finally got some sense of grit back in my belly. "No, Sally," I said softly. "I'm-I'm…"

"I know, baby, you're hurt, and I hurt you. I can't tell you how awful I feel. I'm going to make it up to you, right now, my husband. I'm going to make this right between us. I promise you." She was smiling. She felt in control, and I could smell it, see it. She was wrong.

"Sally, you just told me not half hour ago that I couldn't satisfy you. Was that true?" I said.

"Red, I said that, but I wasn't thinking. Of course you satisfy me. It's just that I need…"

"'More than I can give you,' I think were your words, which means that I don't satisfy you," I said.

"Well…"

"Sally, I am not going to accept a mercy fuck from my own wife and call it love. I need to be loved for real and appreciated for what I am and what I have. I won't be bothering you for sex again as long as I live," I said.

I was crazy wasn't I? I had just burned my bridges. I'd told her we were done with sex between us. I hoped this wasn't going to come back to bite me in the ass. But divorce-did I really want it? Why didn't I know? I couldn't live with a woman who thought as little of me as she did. Could I? Jesus, I was confused!

"Red, of course we're going to have sex. And it's not going to be any mercy fuck either. I do love you. I don't love anyone else, certainly not Rod Wilson, and he knows it. You have to believe me," she said. "Come on. Let's go upstairs and let me show you how much I love you. You sure as hell will be able to tell it's no mercy fuck. It'll be just like always, even better."

"No," I said.

"Red…"

"I said no, Sally; and I mean no, never again. I still have a smidgen of self-respect left, Sally. I will not be the butt of your lover's jokes or the recipient of your mercy or his, the asshole stud you brought into our bed!" I was beginning to raise my voice. "I will be sleeping in our daughter's room for now.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, it'll be a day for me to think and make decisions. I have loved you more than my life for going on a quarter of a century. I thought you felt the same. I guess I was only half right," I said. "I suspect now that you hold me only in contempt, and for sure he does. Someday, he'll pay, mark my words, Sally. You best not be around him when I come down on him because it ain't gonna be pretty. I can promise you that."

"Red, Rodney is a good man. He and I, well we fill a physical need that we both share, but Redeker it's not love, not by a long shot. I keep telling you that. Can't you understand what I'm saying! He just fills a physical need that sometimes overcomes me, and that's all."

I just couldn't believe the things that she was saying. Surely my wife of so many years couldn't be that stupid. I mean, if she was, how could I have not known it? Was I dumber than she was? I guess I had to have been.

She tried to grab my arm, but I yanked it away from her and headed out to the patio deck in the back yard. I grabbed a Lite beer on the way. "Fuck you," I said.

She looked frightened by the suddenness of my words and actions. I guess I was frightening if it came to that. She backed off and let me go. My back to her as I headed out, I didn't see the tears that began to stain the sides of her cheeks.

******

The house was stone silent that first night. The morning came and the sun drenched my daughter's room waking me from a fitful sleep. The curtains had been taken down a few days before, Sally had intended to wash them, but so far had either not washed them; or, if so, she had not put them back up. At any rate, there was no protection for me from the gleaming rays of the sun god, so I got up. It was 6:03.

Sally was still sleeping. I was glad. I wanted to be alone for a while. I decided that I would work in the yard. It was going to be a hot day, but I needed to sweat. I needed to do something mindless and mechanical, so that I wouldn't have to dwell any more than necessary on the events of the past twenty-four hours. And that was the catch-22: I needed to think, consider, plan.

She came down as I was sipping my second cup of coffee. "Red?" I looked up.

"Yeah, I can't fool you. It's definitely me, your wimpy-ass husband," I said, making an attempt to not sound too sarcastic.

"Red, stop that right now! You are no wimp. Not to me, not to anyone. Red, are we okay? I'm frightened," she said.

"Is that a serious question?" I said. "You're getting what you want from good 'ole Rod aren't you," I said. "You've got nothing to lose the way it looks to me. If I stay you've got your lover, if I go you've got your lover. Isn't that about right?"

"Red, it's not like that," she said. "Not like that at all."

"Oh? What is it like then? What am I missing. Are you giving him up? Other men? Did I miss that?" I said. "If so, I swear to you, I didn't hear it."

"Red, you're not understanding me…"

"I'm gonna work in the yard. You do whatever you want," I said. I got up and walked out still holding my coffee mug.

Saturday and Sunday were, somber, I think is the word. She never left the house, and I didn't either. Meals were silent affairs too except for the occasional pass the salt and pepper and such. I had called my boss at home and taken the whole following week off; I didn't tell the whore. I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on work. I would probably have cut off my arm or drilled a hole in it or something. But hell, a hole had already been drilled in my heart, so what would a hole in my arm matter. One good thing about it all: the yard looked great.

It was on the third day, Monday, when things came to a crashing head. It was kind of an accident. It had gotten really hot, and I had come into the service porch where we had a small refrigerator that I kept stocked with soft drinks and beer. I'd pulled myself a cold one when I heard the phone ring. I heard her come into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello… No I can't talk… No, we have to cool it for a while… No, I said, he's hurt… He's hurt real bad… I can't be traipsing around fucking you… No, you'll just have to employ the five sisters for a while… No, I don't know how long… But, he's… Listen, he'll be going back to work next week… Yes, yes, maybe then… but only maybe… I'm not losing my meal ticket just so you can get your rocks off… Forget it… He makes a living… You make me cum… The living's more important…"

I stood there frozen. When she turned around to hang up the phone she saw me. Her hand went to her mouth. No words came out. I was dirty and smelly and now I was also really really mad. I went up stairs to pack. She stood aside as I took yard long strides past her.

"Red!" she gasped, finally.

I turned and snarled at her, "Tell good 'ole big dick that he's gonna have to get a job," I said.

I don't think I had ever packed two bags as fast as I packed those two bags that morning. She tried to get me to talk while I was packing, while I was coming down the stairs, while I packed up the pickup truck; but I just brushed her off. I finally saw her begin to shed tears as I pulled out of the driveway. Tears of greed, I thought, not tears of grief. I smirked, I shoulda been a screen writer.

I was at my usual spot at the Scoundrel when a friend came in. "Hey Red, how yuh doin', man. Aren't you working today? It's fucking Monday." he said, slapping me on the back.

"No, I took off. I got problems," I said.

******

Granger and I talked the place closed that night. I think we'd each had about a hundred drinks. The barkeep, who was becoming more than slightly familiar with me, bought us a final round.

"Red, that flat sucks," said Granger, "but that's the way women are, some women anyway. I love my dog. I know she's gonna be faithful. Women I'm not so sure of," he said, and guffawed.

"Yeah, I guess," I said, already half drunk.

"You know how you can tell who loves you the most, I mean your dog or you woman?" he said.

"Huh?"

"Well, you lock 'em both up in the trunk of your car for an hour on a really hot day. Then, you let 'em out and see which one is glad to see yuh!" he laughed till his sides ached.

"Okay, okay but what about that idea you said you had," I said.

I got a friend who is good at findin' out things. He's not a private dick but he has equipment. We gonna sandbag those two," he said. 'Ole Granger gonna take care of his friend."

The keep kicked us out. It was 2:20AM. We were sloshed, I sure as hell was. But, on the plus side, I was still ambulatory.

"You wanna have some fun?" said Granger.

"Huh? It's two in the morning," I said, stumbling along behind him.

"I know a couple of women who-do their business late at night like this. I think it would do you good to get some tender lovin' care," he said.

"What the hell. Yeah, let's go for it. Oh wait, gonna cost us?" I asked.

"Never mind that, tonight's on me. You can pick up the tab next time," he said.

"Okay, you got it then," I said.

A half an hour later the buzzer sounded and Granger got the door. I was sitting in his kitchen, where we'd been talking, sipping my third cup of java. I heard the voices of several speaking all at once. The two whores and Granger came in all smiles. The tall one frowned sympathetically when she saw me.

"Hi, mister," she said. "My name's Carie." I smiled back at her.

"Hi, mine's Red," I said. She was pretty. Not runway gorgeous, but pretty. Slim, five-eight or nine, one-twenty-five or so. Dark hair, olive complexion, maybe Italian, I thought. Pretty. The other girl, obviously Granger's, was not real hard on the eyes either": blond, a bit over weight, voluptuous would have been the operative term; her breasts had to be 40Ds. Kim was definitely a wide-body built to care for a man.

Greetings done, Granger announced that this was an all night affair and that breakfast would be at 9:00AM and not a minute sooner, maybe later, but definitely not sooner. He laughed, everyone did, even me. Thoughts of Sally were banished for the moment; Carie had my undivided attention.

The next two hours required concentration on my part. Carrie sucked me, fucked me, and thrilled me during the entire time. In spite of being in a state of extreme inebriation; I was finally able to get it up for her.

At various points during the evening I cried, I laughed, and cried some more. I blubbered about my unfaithful, greedy-ass wife. I snarled my hatred for the slimeball who'd cuckolded me. I lay with my head on the breasts of a beautiful woman intent on comforting me. It was the strangest fucking night of my life. It was also the strangest night of fucking of my entire life. But it was a night that would change my life too; I just didn't know it at the time.

******

As described, that night with Granger and the whores changed me. The problem was I didn't exactly know how it changed me. Carie, who I suddenly had a thing for, was loving and kind and good and pretty and available, but I was still married-wasn't I? None of that withstanding, I had to make up my mind how I was going to deal with my so-called wife. Dump her? That was a possibility, a real possibility. Maybe not dump her? I couldn't get my head around what I'd heard her say about me on the phone. But, Granger convinced me to go back home to monitor things while his friend worked at putting a torpedo in the traitors' boat.

I was supposed to keep my eyes and ears open, and, to plant a bug in my phone that would help his pal with what he had in mind. Anyway, after two glorious days with Granger and the whores, and no contact with my wife, I found myself at home again; it was Wednesday evening. I also found myself in possession of a little device that Granger's friend had had delivered to him, us, the day before; this as a result of a call by Granger to that friend. My weepy wife couldn't do enough for me; her motives suspect or not.

She'd met me at the door. She knew I was coming; I'd called her.

"God! Redeker, I am so glad to see you. Please say you're staying. Please," she said. I could see she was shaking. She was actually afraid. She wasn't faking that.

"You been fucking him while I was gone?" I said.

"Redeker! No! I've just been here waiting. Hoping, praying you'd come back to me," she said. I didn't know if I believed her or not. I guess I did. She'd have been afraid to chance it at that point.

She was hurting. I supposed she really was worried about who was going to be buying her groceries. Well, I was hurting to, and right then I didn't have much of an appetite.

She hugged me and I let her. She did not, however, try to kiss me. I think she knew that that would, at the very least, have been premature. "I don't know about staying, Sally. I'm still undecided. I guess I came home to see if there was anything left to salvage of this marriage," I said. "But, I'll tell you right now, if you intend to keep on cuckolding me, we're quits, and not as friends." It was Wednesday. I had several more days before I had to get back to work.

That I was undecided was almost an outright lie, and it did not bother me in the least to lay it on her. She and her lover had betrayed me big time. And, I was fairly certain, given her attitude, that they would again, but what the hell; I could play that game too; I already was, and now I had allies.

I settled into Janie's room. Sally didn't like it. She would have preferred to work her magic on me, and that she could well have done. She was one pretty girl, and playing the damsel in distress made her all the more appealing phony or not. Add to that the horny sonovabitch that I was at the moment, and well, she could have easily out flanked me.

For the next day or so, things were pretty quiet. It was the afternoon of the second day, Friday, that I got the chance to tap the phone. I fumbled and jumbled it at first, but I eventually got it right. Now, whatever she was planning, if it included someone else, I would most likely be privy to it. Well, not me exactly, but Henry, Granger's friend. Of course her cell phone wasn't covered, but I would try to get hold of it from time to time to see what calls were in the log unless she had been smart enough to delete them.

Monday, I returned to work, and that kept me occupied during the day. But, I did wonder what I would eventually find out from the bug I'd planted.

At first there was nothing on the phone except routine calls. The remote recording device that Henry had had me plant was state of the art. He'd evidently done work for the local PD in times gone by. He was in demand even now, in spite of the fact that he was in his seventies, because of his expertise in electronic surveillance.

Sally and I were talking again-civilly. I saw no reason to be an asshole too. There was the remote possibility that the leopard had changed its spots. We even had sex on two occasions during the next few weeks, obviously breaking my vow to never touch her sorry ass again. It, the sex, was not planned, it just happened, and it was good. It always was with Sally. And, did I mention that I was one horny bastard, wimpy or not! Freud would have approved my satisfying the demands of my id.

We were sitting at the kitchen table when she finally made her play. "Red?"

"Yes, Sally?" I said.

"Red, you been home a month now and we really haven't talked. Could we? I mean would it be okay with you?" she said.

I hadn't been exactly faithful to her during the period. I'd been in fairly constant platonic contact with Carie, my caring whore. She and I had had established a rapport; and, I needed what she could give me. We hadn't had sex since that time with Granger, but we'd had lunch a half dozen times. She'd meet me at the shop, and we'd adjourn to the nearest Denny's or IHOP. Like I said, we'd established a rapport. She was good for me.

I answered Sally. "I guess we have to talk at some point, Sally. I know it's been kinda tense these past weeks. So I suppose maybe now would be a good time."

As I said, we were sitting at the dinette table. Each of us had a cup of tea in front of us. Neither was speaking. Not at first. It was the thunderous silence of literary genre at its most profound.

"Go ahead, Sally, it's your show," I said.

"Red, first of all I want to apologize again for everything," she said. My actions were unconscionable and unforgivable, my words too. That said, I am still asking for your forgiveness, if not now, whenever you're ready."

"You apologize, Sally, but how do I know you won't fuck him or somebody else again. I mean if I can't satisfy you, and I know you think I can't. Why would you want to stay with me except for the living I can provide? How can you explain your words on the phone that day? I mean was I only ever just a meal ticket to you?" I said.

"Oh my God! No, Red. I don't know why I said that. Or wait, maybe I do. It's true that you are the one who takes care of me. You are the one who makes me feel secure. You are the one who feeds me and clothes me. So yes, you are my 'meal ticket' if you like. But that is hardly all there is too our marriage. No, Redeker, it is a whole lot more to me and to us than that," she said.

"And the other thing?" I said.

"He means nothing to me, Red. He didn't then and he doesn't now. I have to believe that you know that," she said.

That day on the phone, you were already setting up another fuck session with him. You saying you wouldn't be doing that now?" I said.

"That is exactly what I'm saying, my husband, never again. Never!" she said.

"So, if I decide to forgive and forget, you're saying I'm not going to find out you've been putting out for him or somebody else down the line?" I said.

"No!" she said so vehemently that I almost fell off my chair. She giggled when she saw my momentary distress. "I mean no, absolutely not. Never, never will I betray you again, Redeker."

I listened and wondered. Yes, I know, those who have not been in love like me could easily think me the densest of the dense. And, maybe they'd be right, but a man's needs, feelings, hopes, dreams die hard and in a sea of tears. Maybe I was grasping at the unreachable star, but it was my heart that was broken into pieces not someone else's, and I was not asking for sympathy. I was thinking of giving her a chance.

I extended my hand. She took it. I pulled her to me. She knelt on the floor in front of me. I held her face in my two hands.

"Sally, I want to believe you. I do. I don't know if I can. I don't know if I can forgive you, at least at the moment. And learning to satisfy you…? Plus, I have even less hope that I can learn to trust you again. But for the life of me, I do love you so. Even with all of the bad that's gone on here; it doesn't alter those feelings. I am going to try it one more time," I said. My heart was very nearly coming apart inside of me. I was shaking with fear and uncertainty.

"Oh my God," she screamed, as she launched herself into my arms. We kissed and hugged, and for a little while all of the bad seemed far away. We were new again and in love, at least I thought we were.

After a little bit, I held her at arm's length. I had a little more to say. "Sally, I need to say one more thing, and you need to believe me. You really need to believe me, Sally. Sally, if I am wrong. If you betray me… " I paused and looked her in the eyes. "I am telling you now. The very titans on Mount Olympus will not be able to stay my vengeance. Are you hearing me, Sally? Am I clear? Do you believe me? I cannot go through what I've been going through again, not again."

"Yes, my darling. Oh yes," she said. I knew that at that moment she was telling the truth. The question now was would she be able to withstand the temptations that surely would beset her at some other time, some other place. I was dubious, hopeful, but dubious. But, I was going to try; and, I was going to do my level best to see to it that she did too. Proactive didn't even begin to describe my determination.

I would meet with Granger and Henry the next day. I wanted them to back off, but only on Sally's end. I needed them to find what they could on the asshole. I fully intended to arrange for him to have a new one. I was going proactive big time.

******

"So you got whatever you need, Henry," I said, looking straight at the man.

"This guy really got under your skin, didn't he?" said Henry. "Yes, I've got more than enough. If he's even been seen spitting on the sidewalk I'll have his ass up so tight he'll have to devise a new way to take a shit."

"Redeker, nobody's said it, but somebody's got to," said Granger. "Sally's just as guilty as the asshole. Keep that in mind while you shaft the bugger."

I looked over at him. I took a sip of the booze, my third round. "I know, Granger. Believe me I know. What I'm going to do about that, I don't know. If she never fucks up again, she's probably going to have herself a get out of jail free card. But, if she betrays me again, George Armstrong Custer at the Little Big Horn will have had a better day than she's going to have here."

The other two joined me in hoisting their glasses and we tilted each other like Knights Templar crossing swords in brotherhood before the last battle.

******

The next several weeks were pretty much ideal. I worked, came home, had sex, and generally lived the life of husband and father. So again, life at home was comfortable, predictable, and happy-maybe relieved would be a better way of looking at things. Too, I was still in contact with Carrie, she was my rock, and she wasn't pushing it; but I had the sense that she knew something that I didn't. Oh the mind of woman, I thought.

I got a call from Granger on a Monday afternoon. I met him at the Scoundrel after work. Henry was with him.

"I think we've got him," said Henry. "He's been playing around with several women, not just your wife, Red; and mostly they're rich, the women that is. They actually, some of them, been paying him for sex; and they, the women, again some of them, have been writing him off as a business expense. He on the other hand has not been reporting these monies-mostly cash and large cash at that-as income. I have several friends at the IRS and they are very interested in his new Bentley and him of course. A Bentley, I hasten to add, that he paid cash for. The guy's got balls, and a big head. Thinks he's mister God's gift to the female of the species. Uh, and evidently the women think he is too."

I rubbed my hands together in glee. "Let's nail the bastard," I said.

My drinking buddies looked at each other with a strange expression on their faces. "There's more," said Granger. There was a long pause. Granger and Henry both looked away.

My heart sank. "She's doing it again isn't she," I said, my tone soft and sad.

"Red, I'm sorry," said Granger. "I know how much you've been hoping for a better outcome." He pushed a manila envelope he'd been holding under the table toward me. "Pictures."

"Do I want to look?" I said.

"No. Give them to your lawyer, and let that be enough," he said.

I nodded. I didn't know if I would look at the pictures. But, I couldn't look at them right then. "Thanks," I said. "I don't know what I would have done without friends like you."

"Red, a question, kinda off the subject. Are you still seeing Carie? I tried to call her for a date, but she said that she was leaving the business. Said she had a guy she was interested in. I asked if it might be you, but she was coy about it. Wanna update me?" he said, looking askance at me.

"It's just casual at the moment," I said. "But the way things look I might be considering something more permanent down the line. But, right now…"

"Yeah, I know. Let's deal with the current problem first," He said. I nodded.

"Red, we'll stay on this. I guarantee you the asshole isn't gonna be havin' as much fun as he thinks he is, not close," said Henry.

"Nor her either," I said. "She just got done burning her get out of jail free card." Granger nodded. Henry took a drink, but it was clear they both agreed with my obvious decision to make her pay too, and pay she would-literally.

******

I returned to the house that had, but a few hours before, been my home, our home. Now, a tomb would have felt more inviting to me. It was mid afternoon. I had taken off work to meet with my confederates. Sally would not be expecting me at the house. She was sitting out back on the patio. She was nursing a drink and relaxing. It was not time to tip her off to the cataclysm that was about to engulf her and her lover. I felt a strange calm.

I joined her on the patio after grabbing a beer on the way out. I decided to relax too. Within a very few days such scenes with my wife of twenty-five years would be no more. It was sad, but I didn't feel sad. I felt-I didn't know what I felt-maybe indifferent.

"Hi", she said, as I plopped down on the chaise lounge next to hers. "You're home early."

"Yeah, I was fagged out, and took a couple of hours of comp time," I said, lying in my teeth. I was surprised how easy it was to lie to her. She'd made me that way by lying to me without apparent remorse. I hoped that in my case it didn't become a habit. I leaned back, took a sip of the golden elixir and thought of-Carie. I smiled. Now, I was feeling good. It made no sense, but I suddenly felt very good.

"So what was your day like?" I asked. I wondered if she had been fucking him today.

"Okay, I did some laundry and a bit of house cleaning. Nothing special. I came out her just to relax," she said. I said nothing. After a while I got up and she followed me into the house. The evening was a carbon copy of many before it. Tomorrow, I would be taking care of a number of things. First on the list was a trip to my lawyer's, Carl Feldman. He was a Lion on the Serengeti Plains of business negotiations, and he would be so in divorce negotiations too.

******

I arrived at Carl's a bit early. But he saw me and waved me right in. He and I had met at the Scoundrel years before and often bought each other rounds. Just random drinking buddies, but there was a connection there. He liked me and I liked him. One of the attractions between us was the fact that we were both USC fans-go Trojans!

"So it's a divorce is it?" he said, opening the conversation.

"Yeah, she shagging some guy and it looks like nothing is going to stop her. I caught her once already. I've had a friend gather massive evidence against her." I pushed the envelope that Granger had pushed across a different table to me.

He opened the envelope and looked at the pictures. "Jesus, you must have gone nuts looking at these," he said.

"Haven't seen them," I said.

He studied me. "Smart," he said. "Unless you get off on this kind of stuff, it's better that you never do." I just nodded.

"I know generally what they are; and that's already more than enough for me," I said.

We talked for a little while and he laid out for me the things I needed to do to maximize my position in a no fault state like California. Credit cards, the bank, car title (mine), life insurance, all of it. The bank was my first stop.

I cleaned out ninety percent of our collective accounts leaving only enough to pay the next months bills. I was going to abandon the house: too many memories; she could have it and the mortgage; she'd get a little out of it if she sold it, but she sure as hell wasn't going to get rich. Everything else was handled the same day.

I would need to call and inform Janie, but that would wait until I had my betrayer served. Carl assured me that it would be three days hence, on Friday. When I called our daughter, I wouldn't embellish her mother's crimes, but I was going to call a spade a spade. I was not going to be the bad guy.

One final act had to happen. I was going to quit my job at the shop. I wanted to make sure that no alimony would be paid. I had enough cash to carry me for quite a while. And, if I had to, I'd leave the state, even the country. Mexico was a possibility. But, I didn't think I'd have to go that far. Anyway, if I was broke, my betrayer would get nothing. Her asshole coconspirator could take care of her-after he got out of jail-well, she could hope.

Friday dawned dreary and rainy. But, for me it was the beginning of a new phase in my life. I made a lunch date with Carie Anders. I needed to talk to her. We met at the Crystal.

"Hi," she said, taking the seat opposite me that the Maître'd proffered her.

"You sounded funny on the phone and not funny haha either," she said.

"I don't doubt it," I said. I looked meaningfully at my watch. "Right about now my wife is being served with the papers."

"Served? Oh my God served! You mean with divorce papers." She was clearly excited. Inside, so was I. But, I wasn't callous enough to let it show.

"Yeah, she's continued to cheat on me, and I found out about it earlier this week. You and I…"

"Yes, I know, Red. We've been treading water. I'm going to say something that I hope you won't take wrong. I am going to ask you to just hear me out, and then if you have something to say, you can. Okay?" she said.

"Yes. Go ahead," I said. I was glad she'd taken the initiative. I was still trying to figure out how I was going to handle our relationship now. It was certainly going to be entering a new phase at the very least.

"Red, my career these past six years has not been something you'd want to be sharing with all of your friends and relatives. Your married daughter comes to mind for one. That said…

"I'm a whore, Red. And, frankly, I'm a good one and proud of it. I've never subscribed to the puritanical crap that prostitution was somehow evil. Personally I don't believe that God, if there is one, would be that petty. But that's just me, others may differ.

"I don't know how you want to deal with that or me, I mean long term, but I have no expectations. I just like being around you. You make me feel safe; I need that sometimes, and I hope we continue. But, like I say, I have no expectations," she said, finally. She had finished with a flourish, and now she folded her hands in front of her and waited for me to say something.

"Carie, I love you. As for your history, I'm sure you were the best at it. As for what others think, you can't know how little that matters to me. If you want to keep it a secret, fine. If you want me to hire a skywriter to announce it to the whole damn community, I'll sign my name to it in the clouds. As for Janie, she's gonna find out and she's gonna find out from us. I hope she can handle it, and frankly, I think she can and will."

"Wha… " She had clearly lost it when I announced that I loved her. "What did you say?"

"I said, dear heart, that I love you, and that your history as a first class whore is a matter of pride to me too, and yes I know that sounds peculiar as hell. I hope I'm not being too vague here." I was smiling like a possum, and she was doing her best imitation of a weeping willow.

She pulled back from me and looked me straight in the eyes. "Redeker, I swear by all I hold dear that I will never betray you-never! And of course I am through with the business."

"I know," I said. She-we-embraced for a long time. She was licking and kissing my ears and neck. God how this woman could turn me on. But now it was time to get serious.

"Carie, one thing, the divorce is going to take a little time to become final. We will need to be careful until it's finally settled. I don't want to hand the other side any ammunition." I looked at her hoping she was understanding me.

"Of course," she said. "But that doesn't mean no lunches or anything for six months does it?"

"No. We can still see each other, just not…"

"I can live with that," she said. "It'll be worth it.

"Redeker? I know what you'd say if I asked you. And, I know you'll probably say you don't care; but I am going to have myself tested. I want you to know-well, you know, be confident-right?"

My cell phone rang. I killed it, and it rang again. I didn't even have to look to know who it was and what it was about. The battle was about to be joined.

******

It was around 3:00PM that I got a call I did answer. It was the one I had been neglecting at my end and fearing to get from the other end. My daughter was on the line. What would I say to her? I'd been going over scenarios in my head, but now it was the McCoy, and it worried me.

Her mother had called her of course. Evidently she, her mother, had cried crocodile tears, and Janie had commiserated with her. Now it was my turn.

"Hello, baby," I said. The call lasted for twenty minutes. I didn't call her mother any names. The closest I got was just to say that she had found someone else, and it was over between us. I knew Janie could probably tell, if only from the tone of my voice, that there was more to it than that, but she didn't press the issue. We ended with her telling me that she'd be flying out that night. I knew what she was going to try and do, but her mother and I were quits; my wife of twenty-five years could not be trusted. We were done.

I finally took a call from Sally. I'd decided to have it out with her after I'd talked to Janie, and now I'd heard from Janie. I agreed to meet her at the Scoundrel.

******

I was early, not anxious, but early. I didn't want to be there. Maudlin scenes did not appeal to me, but there was no getting' around this one. We'd been married too long, and when Janie arrived I wanted to be able to tell her that I had listened, not sympathetically-I wouldn't pretend that, but I will have listened, and I'd be able to say so.

She came in about twenty minutes after me and took a seat across from me at the table I'd secured in the back.

"Redeker, how could you!" she began. "What did I ever do to deserve this total screwing your lawyer laid on me! It should be at least fifty-fifty. Don't I deserve at least that! Tell me! Don't I?" She was just short of crying.

I couldn't believe what she was saying. She wasn't apologizing, or trying to stave off the impending divorce; she was concerned about her financial status. She'd been warned. She knew what was bound to happen if she betrayed me again, and she had, and that callously.

"Sally, you were warned. You knew I wasn't going to be putting up with any more of your baloney," I said.

"Redeker, I kept my promise to you. I promised that I wouldn't hurt you again. I didn't. Rod never came into that house with me after that last time. He wasn't even allowed in the neighborhood. And let me tell you it pissed him off plenty too. I did that to protect you-and us. Don't you see that?" She was serious. She actually believed her own nonsense.

"Sally, the deal wasn't that you'd be doing your extracurricular activities somewhere else, or protecting me from knowing. The deal was that you wouldn't be doing them at all! What were you thinking!" Now I was getting hot under the collar.

"Redeker, Red, I thought I made it plain that first time, months ago, that I needed a little something, more…"

"Yeah, I remember, more than I could give you. Yeah, you made it plain. And, when I agreed to come back I made it plain that there would be no one else but me for you if you wanted to stay married to me, and you agreed. But, evidently you had your fingers crossed behind your back.

"And another thing, about your boyfriend being pissed off about being kept clear of the neighborhood, frankly I don't give a flying fuck if drowns in a sea of piss. I hate the motherfucker and I am going after him. Trust me, he's toast," I said.

She looked at me like "I" was crazy. "Why would you want to do that to him? What has he ever done to you?" she said.

"Sally, you need help. Do you hear yourself? There is no way you can justify what you did to me and to us. And as for him, I want to kill him. When Janie gets here, ask her what she thinks. If you can sell your shit to her, I'll agree with you, and 'I'll' get the psychiatric help that I think you should be getting. Because if anybody else agrees with you; then, I must be insane," I said.

"Red, I don't have a job. I haven't ever worked before. How will I survive? You've cleaned out everything. Your lawyer says your unemployed too. I don't have a pot to piss in. What have you done to me, Redeker. I'll freakin' starve!"

"You'll get the house. List it and sell it. Then get some training. Hey, I have an idea, what about your big dicked lover. If he's so much into you, he should support you. After all he's getting your body more than I ever did," I said. My tongue fairly dripped with sarcasm.

"Redeker! That's not true. You always got more than he did, always. I would never give something to someone else that I denied you, in quality or quantity or kind," she said.

"Fucking wonderful, Sally. You made sure I was number one, is that it. Except of course that I wasn't able to satisfy you. The knowledge of that almost destroyed my heart. Do you realize that?" I said.

"Redeker, you weren't supposed to hear that. I felt just awful for the longest time after that phone call. You'll never know how hurt I was for you. I wanted to just die," she said.

"Sally, I swear, you've got your head so far up your ass you can't see daylight. You say you were hurt. You have no idea what you did to me. I will be a long time getting over that one, even after the divorce!" I said.

"At any rate, I am going to do you one last favor. I have a friend who owns a supply company that we dealt with at the shop. He's a friend of mine and he needs a receptionist. He actually asked about you once before; that was about a year ago. I can get you the job if you want it; ten bucks an hour. Do you want me to set it up? Tell me now," I said.

She was crying. She finally realized that everything she'd said was just so much hot air between us. She nodded. "Ten dollars an hour? That's good isn't it?" She really didn't have a clue. I actually felt sorry for her. She was one of those people who were simply devoid of logical thought. It was like the frontal lobe of her brain had never matured.

"It's okay. If you don't fritter the money away, and if you plan your expenses you'll be able to get by. You'll be selling the house. I'm sure your lawyer will tell you that that's in your best interest. You'll get enough out of it to pay him and for you to get along until you can handle things by yourself. You'd get more but your adultery is going to cost you, big time," I said. "I don't hate you, Sally, but you are not going to be screwing me around anymore. Take what I am offering and consider yourself lucky."

We talked a bit more, she cried a bit more, and then we parted. We were done as a couple.

As we left, she turned to me one last time. "Don't hurt him too bad, Redeker. He really isn't a bad man." She didn't realize how infuriated her words made me.

"He is a whole separate matter, Sally. Don't go there. Stay out of it," I said.

I wanted to say, stay out of it that his ass was mine, but I decided to bite my tongue.

******

It was months later, and I had just finished a gourmet lunch at the Crystal Inn with my buds Henry and Granger. They'd left, but I'd decided to hang out. I was half expecting Carie to show. She had something very important to do, she'd told me, but she was going to try to make it. So it was with some surprise that Sally slipped into the seat across from me.

"Sally! What are you doing here?" I said. "We've already had our conversation."

"Redeker," she looked sad, "I know the divorce will be final soon. I wanted to take one last shot at trying to get you to hear me out. I mean understand me, my weakness, my womanly stupidity. Red, I've had to time to think about what I did, and I'm ashamed of myself. I guess-I guess I'm here to ask you to have mercy on me."

"You took the job at Carlyle Supply," I said. I knew she had. Jimbo had kept me informed, and by all accounts she was doing okay.

"Yes, thank you for that. It's almost enough to get by on," she said, as she smiled. "The house is sold too, as you probably know. I got about ten thousand after costs and the mortgage was paid off. It's a start, I guess. But, Red I don't want to start something new, or with somebody new. I want you back. I'll do anything."

Just as she finished, Carie walked up, and smiled at me and then at Sally.

"Let me guess, you're Sally," said Carie. The two had never met, though I'm sure that Carie felt she knew Sally as a result of all of our conversations.

"Yes? And you are?" Sally had a look of-suspicion-on her face.

"Carie. I'm Red's fiancée. I must say Sally that you were very careless in letting this one get away," Carie nodded in my direction.

The look on Sally's face now was total tragedy. She looked away from Carie and at me. "I guess this really is the end then, isn't it Redeker. I mean all of those years-gone."

"Yes Sally. You want to live a life that is different than what it is possible for me to tolerate," I said.

"Okay, I get it. I guess I finally get it. Oh, and by the way, I don't care anymore how bad you fuck over Rod, and knowing you he's going to be finding himself in a shit storm of trouble. You probably already know, but in case you don't, he fucked me over pretty good too. I deserved it I guess.

"Congratulations," she said, looking back at Carie. Don't do like I did and lose this man because of some stupid half baked ideas."

"I won't," said Carie. With that Sally rose, and left. It would some months before I heard of her again, and that was via Janie.

******

Janie arrived later that evening. She called me to say that she was going to go by the house first, maybe stay overnight and see me on the morrow. That was indeed what occurred. I was glad she was going to check on her mother. For the life of me, as angry as I was with Sally, I was also worried about her. Love dies hard. Janie had been with her after her mother was served and had made a few visits since. I think she'd been able to help stabilize her mother's mind once her mother realized how bad she'd screwed herself over.

Janie was to arrive at my new place by 7:00PM. It was a small apartment about four miles from my work. Carie owned it; actually the whole building. I hadn't known it early on, but Carie was pretty well off. Some prostitutes actually did come out okay.

As for me, Sally and I had saved just shy of a $100,000, and I had it all. She, Sally, had no clue as to the amount. Henry had helped me hide the bulk of it: the things that guy knew.

******

Carie and I were in the kitchen mixing some martinis in order to just keep busy. Nervous was a magnitudinous understatement when it came to describing us. We were shaking in our boots about telling Janie the whole truth.

"Carie, stop shaking. It'll be all right,' I said, smiling. "Hell, you're making me nervous."

"Yeah, easy for you to say; you're not a whore. She just might spit on me-and then you too if it strikes her fancy," Said Carie.

"Well, I doubt it," I said. "But, if she does spit on you, I will demand that she spit on me too. Just remember I love you. I know you love me. Your past, my past, they are what they are."

The door buzzer went off just then. We looked at each other, at the clock; it was seven on the dot. Neither of us moved. Then we both laughed. I headed for the door. Carie trailed behind me waiting on the inevitable.

"Hi daddy," said my daughter.

"Hi baby doll," I said. Guiding her by the arm, I led her over to Carie who had been standing nervously near the entrance to the kitchen. For her part, Janie seemed to be as nervous as the two of us. I introduced them to each other and they nodded.

"Baby," I said. "We've mixed up some martinis; I remember you said you like martinis."

"That would be fine dad," she said.

I went to the kitchen and brought out the tray with the mixed elixir and the glasses. I poured as the two women made themselves comfortable on the couch and easy chair across from each other. After pouring my own drink, I sat next to Carie on the couch; I wanted to give her the support I was sure she needed.

"Janie-can I call you Janie?" said Carie.

"Yes, that's fine," said Janie. "No one calls me Jane anymore."

"I guess this one is up to me," said Carie, "I know-I mean I think I know how you must view me. I mean-I could never-I mean I wouldn't try…"

"Carie, I know you were not the one who came between my dad and my mom. As far as I'm concerned, you are an innocent party to all of this-kinda like me, I suppose," said Janie.

There was silence as Janie waited for someone to continue. Carie drew a breath and went for it.

"Yes, as far as the breakup of your dad and mom is concerned, I was not involved with that. But there are some things about me, Janie, that you need to know," said Carie.

Janie eyed her wondering what was so serious a matter that Carie would be phrasing her words like she in fact was. "And?" said Janie.

"Janie, I am ten years younger than you dad. But, in spite of the age difference I love him very much. And, I want to marry him, and he has asked me to be his wife. I have agreed," said Carie. She paused.

"Okay," said Janie, realizing that there was more-maybe much more.

"I've never been married before. I have no children, and no close family. So, over the years I have sought the company of many men," said Carie.

Janie wrinkled her brow and waited. She was uneasy, but her dad was there and that calmed her.

"The night-the night-the night I met your dad, he paid for me," she said. "I was hooking."

The silence in the room was unearthly.

"Huh?" said Janie, in an almost little girlish tone.

"I'm-I was-a whore, Janie. I'm not going to sugarcoat it," said Carie. "I fucked for money. There, I've said it." Tears came to her eyes as she admitted to her future daughter-in-law what she'd been.

Janie's mouth hung open. "Huh?"

"The night I caught your mother with another man, Jane, I went to a bar. A friend came in and I poured my heart out to him. He arranged for us to be-comforted. Carie was one of the two women who showed up. I was taken with her from almost that first moment. She salved my tears, and weeks later we sort of became an item. That's the short version," I said, butting in.

"Fuckin'-A," said Janie, in an indecipherable tone.

Carie was suddenly upset. "Maybe I better go," she said. "I think maybe you two need to talk about this without me here." It was clear she thought that Janie was judging her.

"Carie, no-no, please stay. I'm not judging you. I'm surprised. I've never met a…"

"A whore," said Carie.

"I was just surprised is all. I'm glad my dad has found someone to care for him. I hope we can be friends, Carie. I mean that."

"Dad, she's beautiful," said Janie.

The mood in the room lightened immeasurably. "Refills anyone," I said, as I began to pour the refills without waiting for replies.

We talked for hours. Carie and Janie were already making progress toward being friends, a fact that I found more than a little interesting.

Janie excused herself at around 2:00AM. She said she was going to stay with her mom, since she was feeling so low. "Dad, I am going to ask you to lighten up on mom some. I need her to survive her own stupidity and somehow get on with her life. Okay?" said my very mature daughter.

"Okay," I said. "Consider the heat off." Janie nodded, and I noticed I got a glance of approval from Carie. I was feeling good, and things had gone well. I could afford to be generous, so I would be.

******

Sally did meet someone soon after that day at the Crystal, and she and he, a policeman were engaged. Carie and I had gotten married a month after the divorce was final. Janie wanted peace among the principals and invited us and Sally and Sally's new fiancée to her and her husband's anniversary soiree. Things went well, and that boded well for future encounters.

Carie for her part did not miss the life she had left; she'd been pretty well done with it by the time she met me in any case. Everything ended up well for all involved except for the asshole.

******

Through Henry, and later confirmed by Janie, I found out that Sally's boyfriend indeed dumped on her when he found out she was going to be essentially short on cash. He had actually taken her to dinner and looked real happy-at first. But, somewhere along the line she had apparently laid it on him that she was going to be getting little from the divorce.

Henry was sitting at the next table from them. Evidently good 'ole Rod had lost his appetite. He went to the bathroom. He never returned. And, according to Henry, as soon as she realized he wasn't coming back, she was beside herself.

Sally was a mental ruin in the early going: no husband, no boyfriend, not much money, and no experience living alone. Even Janie's attempts, at the time, to comfort her fell on deaf ears. I guess my ex-wife just wasn't able to deal with betrayal by her fellow betrayer on top of everything else. She cried night and day, again, so I heard tell.

It was a few months, and just before my divorce was final, after the meeting in the Crystal between me, Sally, and Carie that Rod Wilson got a visit from the IRS. A few days after that he was arrested. The trial was short, and he pled out. He got four years behind bars in the federal pen. I heard from Janie that Sally visited him once while he was inside. He saw her hoping I guess to get something from her, but all she did was tell him what bums they had both been and how together they had ruined each other's lives.

She actually apologized to him for not being stronger and thereby missing the opportunity to save them both from a lot of hurt. I guess she was looking for closure of some kind. But, the asshole, ever the asshole, told her to fuck herself. So much for class; the asshole didn't have any.

-----------------------------

   Series:Riley and Wilfred Burton
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She cheats with her boss, and feels she's giving her husband more than enough for him to be happy in spite ot it.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/67249/riley-and-wilfred-burton
Published:2011-02-06
Riley and Wilfred Burton, that's us. We married upon graduation from college; we were only twenty-two, but we were madly in love. Aged 37, now, the both of us. We met nineteen years gone when she'd come to William S. Goddard High as a transfer in her, our, senior year.

She was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, and I decided I had to have her at any cost. That tab, the price of falling in love with her, would be a long time coming due, but, when it did; it would prove to be more than I was willing to pay.

That last year in prep school was wild. We'd gotten each other's cherry, and everything looked rosy. Upon graduation we both attended the University of Chicago on partial scholarship-the only way our parents could afford it even with us working part time to defray some of the costs. We eventually staggered out of school both having gotten our degrees in Business Management. GPAs? Hers 3.74, mine 3.68. She never let me forget that she'd bested me by.06 grade points.

We tied the knot three months after graduation and began life in earnest. Early on, we'd talked over how we were going to launch our lives. Finally, it was decided that Riley would go to work while I went after the MBA. Because of that decision having kids was put on the back burner. Her job? Milford wholesalers. Milford Inc. was a wholesaler of a universe of products: everything from computer software to ladies lingerie. Milford's clients were mostly general merchandise retail chains along with any number of independents in the same lines.

Upon graduation with my MBA, I went looking for a job. One week into the process I came home to find a strange car parked in my driveway; it was 4:00PM. Oh, and it was a very nice car: a Cadillac actually. The owner of the ride was in our living room sipping tea. The man was dressed in what had to be a three-thousand dollar suit. Sitting next to him was my wife.

"Hi honey, we have a guest," said Riley, standing and coming to me, she planted a wifely kiss on my cheek and smiled-broadly. I gave her a questioning look, and smiled back at her. She led me over to the man, who stood and shook my hand.

"Honey, this is John Milford. He owns the company I work for," said Riley.

"How do you do, sir?" I said.

"Good. And you, young man," he said." I responded appropriately.

Riley took my hand a led me to the chair across from the couch and gave my hand a small squeeze in the doing of it.

I was suitably impressed with the stranger who I judged to be in his late forties. And, well I might have been impressed. At my then age of twenty-five, he was exactly what I thought I would someday be myself if things worked out they way I hoped.

Riley was dressed very nicely too. A lot nicer than usual. I figured her efforts had to do with the presence of the man I was shaking hands with. It was but a moment later that I discovered how right I was.

I motioned the man to have a seat. He reseated himself and I followed suit. My wife still smiling brightly joined him. I thought it a little odd that she was sitting on the couch by him instead of by me, but it wasn't odd enough for me to say anything.

"Honey, Joh-mister Milford, has something for us," she said. And, yes I did notice that she had almost used the first name of the man, but had caught herself in mid-pronunciation and had used the more formal appellation instead. I let it go.

"Yes, Mr. Burton," he said. "Actually, I am here to offer you a job. Your wife works directly under one of my division chiefs and does such a good job that when she came to me, to us, to ask about job opportunities for someone with your background, or actually, you; we gave her a listen; and well, here we are."

"Oh-okay-I mean really? What… " I stuttered.

"Initially you would be working under Rod Mercer, he handles independent outlets all over the country for us. You'd be his field liaison with our various suppliers of product. You'd be answering directly to him.

"It's a good job, Mr. Burton. Definitely not an entry level position. A lot will be expected of you if you sign on," he said. "The job does require a deal of travel too, I should add." I nodded.

"Rlies?" I said. She nodded vigorously.

"Oh yes, honey, this is just what we, you, were hoping for. And we'll be working for the same company. Not the same divisions, but at least the same firm," she said.

I threw up my hands. I was happy, I guess; at least my search was over. My wife was happy for sure. Nothing had been said about income at that point, but I was betting it would be pretty good, or my wife wouldn't have been so ebullient. "Okay," I said. "When do I start and where and…"

"You start Monday, if that's all right," said Mr. Milford. "Pay is seventy-five annual if you care," he said. He was smiling as he said it; he clearly expected me to be pleased. I was; I mean especially after he'd announced the pay scale.

"It's fine, and I do care!" I said, letting my enthusiasm show.

"Well, good, young man. I should tell you that you will be accompanying Mr. Mercer almost immediately on a short trip, kind of a training junket for you," he said. "But, well, Mr. Mercer will fill you in on that on Monday."

The small talk, and some not so small talk, continued for a little bit; finally, the big man, stood, said his goodbyes, and we showed him out.

My wife and I were alone. We faced each other, and she started to laugh, a little hysterically, I thought, but it was kind of a crazy moment. Crazy enough to cover up some glaring reasons for concern, I'd later realize; that, much, much later. What reasons? What concerns?

One, finding a well known CEO of a major company sitting in the living room of essentially an inexperienced kid, me. My wife's good record with the company the man ran notwithstanding.

Two, I'd hoped and prayed, that I could find an entry level job that paid 40K in what was essentially a lousy job market. To be offered a mid-level position at almost twice that amount should have been a red flag for damn sure.

Three, I was going to be travelling, and that almost immediately at company's expense. Travelling and presumably buying with virtually no experience; oh yeah, that definitely should have been a tell.

My upcoming trip with Mr. Mercer would likely be a good learning experience, but was that going to be enough for someone as green as me. I made a pledge to myself that I was going to do my damnedest to make sure it was-but still…

Mr. Mercer would likely turn out to be a manager with top notch skills, but it just didn't feel right, or more accurately shouldn't have felt right.

But all such thoughts were far from me at that moment. Indeed, though all was more than surreal, was I complaining or suspicious or concerned? Not on your life. I was young, and confident and immortal and all of the usual things. Cloud nine had never been so firmly occupied as it was by me at that moment.

******

"Mr. Milford will see you now, miss Burton," said the receptionist. She started down the hall, stopped at a framed picture of some former VIP and appraised herself in the reflection from the glass.

Not bad, she thought: young and gorgeous, a great combination. Her tight middie skirt, her matching tan blouse, her spikes all complemented what she saw in that reflection. Yes, ma'am, she smiled to herself, Riley Burton is one very successful executive secretary, and more than well appreciated by the company CEO.

That appreciation of her-uhr-talents had its rewards. She'd been able to see to it that her beloved man, Wilfred Langford Burton, her Will, got the job he wanted and deserved; and, at a much higher salary than he-even she-expected. Of course there was a price, but it was one she was more than willing to pay, she thought.

She entered his office without knocking. "Hi boss," she said, seating herself across from him and in front of his desk.

"And good morning to you missus Burton," he said, smiling. "How is hubby today, if I may ask?"

"He's happy as a clam, and so am I," she said.

"Not suspicious of my generosity?" said the man.

"No. I guess one could say he's in a state of wonderment at the moment. Mister Milford, John, I hope he doesn't disappoint you," said Riley.

"I'm not worried. Mercer's a good man. He'll teach him the ropes, and if I'm any judge, your husband will make the grade. But, don't worry, his job is in no danger regardless. He has an insurance policy in you. But-uh-I think it may be time for you to pay one of your insurance premiums. Don't you?" he said.

"Certainly," she said. She stood, turned, locked the door, and came to him. Kneeling in front of him, she pulled down his zipper and felt his cock through his underpants. She grinned. "Looks like you're ready for me."

"Oh yeah," he said. Pulling his cock out of his pants, she stroked it slowly and surveyed its eight-inch length and wrist thick girth; her husband's equipment was maybe half the size of this magnificent fuck engine, she thought; she sighed at the thought.

She began licking and sucking him. It felt like she had a slightly curved steel rod in her mouth. In but a few minutes she felt him shudder. He came-hard and long and copiously; she swallowed it all.

Cleaning himself up, he watched as she straightened her cloths. She leaned back against the desk and watched as he zipped up. She smiled.

Done, he leaned back in his chair, once more the imperial CEO. "You know, Mrs. Burton, I can't figure it. You're smart, pretty, sexy to the nth degree: and yet, you married a man who is pretty clearly beneath you. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm sure he's a great guy and all, but…?"

"He is a great guy, and he's pretty smart too. You've got his college transcripts. Beneath me? Only in the sense that he's shorter than me, okay, a lot shorter than me. But the package? Believe me, John, my husband will be the best employee you ever had, and he won't be long in proving it to you either," she said. He smiled indulgently at her.

"And yet, you felt the need to use your-influence-to get him a job," he said. "I gotta tell yuh, I see hiring him is a risk, a small one, but a risk. If he ever catches on to-well you know-he's not gonna be real happy."

"As for using my influence, as you put it, let's just say I'm the impatient type. I didn't want to be waitin' five years for him to be appreciated. I'll do pretty much whatever I have to avoid that bullshit," she said. "Especially when what I am required to do is so much fun!" she began to giggle uncontrollably.

He flashed her a phony frown. "Okay, well, I hope you're right about him making the grade in a hurry. This is a business. I can afford to give him an opportunity, but not to institutionalize mediocrity," he said; "it would set a bad example for the troops." She nodded, and the nod was a serious one. She resolved to train her man, if necessary, to be a top notch performer. She was around the best all of the time; she knew the game. She hoped that her Will did too."

******

I did go on the training junket with Mr. Mercer. He was a man I would learn to respect and admire, a man who knew everything about the business; and, learning from him was not only effective it was actually fun.

The next twelve years were good years. Riley and I did well financially and we did even better in the bedroom. We never tired of each other. That simple and single fact was, in the end, to threaten our marriage.

******

"Oh honey that feels so good. I've got to get you up one more time." It was the third time that evening. She did and we did it.

"Jesus, Riles, I think you're going to be the death of me, but what a way to go," I said, as we lay there panting.

"Like it did you?" she said.

"Oh yeah," I said. "You know I don't understand it, Riles."

"What's that, darling man?"

"Well, we've been married for fifteen years and we're still getting it on like newlyweds. Not many can say as much.

"The early years, the first few years, were good, Riles, but they weren't this good. It's only been since we've worked for the company that we… " I stopped in mid-sentence. Riley's contented look faded for the briefest of moments, I noticed, but she gathered herself.

"Because the pressure of school and everything was off after you started to work for Milford," she said.

"Pressure off? Hardly Riles, The job I've got has me on edge most of the time. I'm so dragged out some nights that even you can't get a rise out of me," I said. She looked away, so I didn't see the concern that painted her features.

"The truth is, Will, you are just a much better lover than you were in the early years. A much better one," she said, grinning.

"Thanks-I guess," I said. But there was something wrong. She got me off subject by bringing up my favorite one, our babies. Well, they weren't exactly babies anymore. But at age twelve the twins were as beautiful as their mother and as active as any children I'd ever heard of.

Riles and I had deferred having children while I'd worked on my MBA. And, we'd planned to wait a bit even then, until I could land a good enough job to make it sensible to enlarge the family. But, the job at Milford inc. arrested all of those concerns and so we'd made the plunge. I fucked her pregnant, and we were almost immediately blessed with twin girls.

"Gabi and Gret are joining the soccer team," she said. I noticed she'd changed the subject, but her news interested me and got me off track.

"So we're going to be soccer moms, then," I said. Now I was smiling, and she noticeably relaxed. I say noticeably because I noticed it.

"Well, unless you've grown a pussy, you'll be a soccer dad, okay big man?" she said.

"Whatever you say, dear," I said. She was always calling me big man even though it was clear tha that was the one thing that I was not. At five-six and one-forty, I was three inches shorter than she was and only twenty pounds heavier. I was in pretty good shape-she'd insisted on me taking care of myself, so I did-but, I was never going to be a big man. It had never been an issue for us, and looked never to become one; but it did kinda rankle sometimes when I thought she was needling me.

The girls actually turned out to be very good at sports. Not because of anything they inherited from me for sure; they just worked hard and made it on effort. Now, maybe they did inherit that particular trait. Both their mother and myself were barn burners when it came to our careers. And our incomes and promotions were hard evidence of it.

Mister Milford actually seemed surprised in the early going that I was as productive as I was. That kind of bothered me. It was like he figured I wouldn't make it and was therefore surprised. I had to ask myself why he offered me such a good start up job, if he had doubts about me. But, at any rate, I hadn't disappointed him and he let me know it more or less regularly.

Twelve years with the company now, and I was up for a vice presidency. Mister Mercer was about to retire and there are only two names are on the list to get his seat at the table: mine, and Cap Winetraub's. Cap just happens to be my wife's boss. He's in charge of a division that deals with the chain operations not the independents like mine does. The job was for the division handling the independents I had to feel I was a tad more qualified than Cap is, even though Cap had a deal more seniority than I did, but the choice was Mister Milford's not mine not Cap's. That, at least, was the situation until today. It's not anymore.

The choice was to be announced at the company's annual All Divisions Meeting in June, two weeks hence.

Maybe an update on the status of my wife and I in terms of our careers, to put things in perspective, is in order before proceeding.

My wife's still an executive secretary, but one that has the influence of a personal assistant and confidant. Her salary of $100K annual is evidence of that. Mine as National Coordinator for Independent Operations, one step below the VPship, paid well too: $200K annual. That kind of income, ours, allowed the two of us to do very well for ourselves. We'd invested in property and certain common stocks that were virtually guaranteed not to dive even in a bear market. We're doing well. Yes, everything's rosy; well, everything was rosy until today, as I indicated.

******

My boss and I had finished earlier than expected and had gotten back into town almost a week sooner than expected, that after a tour of four Southern states. I hadn't called Riley and told her. For no good reason, I had decided to surprise her. I was the one surprised. Boy, was I ever.

I stood in the hallway of our one story ranch style, and listened while he fucked her.

"Ohmyohmyohmy," she repeated over and over again. She must have cum two or even three times while I listened. The man was clearly very skilled at screwing my wife. The man? Why John Milford, CEO of Milford Inc.

I peaked around the door jamb and watched as he ploughed her from behind. They were facing away from the doorway and didn't see me. Her butt was raised high in the air and her 36C cups dangled down from her chest adding to the sexiness of the image. God she was beautiful, just a magnificent female creature, I thought. And, obviously a cheater and a whore.

He was ramming her mercilessly now. I had to think he was hurting her, but she kept begging for more.

I slipped back away from the door jamb to hear what I could hear. He would cum soon, I was certain, and then they would talk. I wanted to know what they would be saying to each other, and what they might be saying about me.

I heard the rustle of bed clothes as he must've rolled off of her. There was some sighing and kissing going on, loud kissing.

"You were fantastic today," he said.

"Of course," she giggled. "You're the best. It's easy to be fantastic with that kind of inspiration."

"You men my cock?" he said. She must have pointed at his penis judging by his response. I looked down toward where my cock was hidden by my pants. I wondered how big he was, or if he was just good at what he did in bed.

"You like my big guy?" he said.

"Oh yes. It's twice the size of Will's. I so wish he was bigger than he is, but I just have to make do with what he's got, I guess. It's not very satisfying, but it's better than nothing, I suppose," she said. They both laughed, and that heartily; they were laughing at me. In that moment two things happened. One, I got my answer as to how big his cock was; and two, my marriage ended. All that was left of me and Riley, now, as a couple, were the lawyers and the inevitable tears and shouting and whatever.

I went downstairs to await his departure. I'd be quitting of course. I couldn't possibly work for the man after I'd become his cuckold. Too bad, it'd been a good job.

I made myself a drink, a stiff one, at the little wet bar in the den and settled in. Maybe an hour later I heard the faint sound of water running. One or both of them were probably showering.

The den had a direct line of sight to the front room through the kitchen. They came into view, embraced, kissed, and said something private that I didn't hear. Then, they saw me staring at them.

Riley was wearing a robe but it was open and her bald mound was visible and beautiful. I wanted to fuck and kill her at one and the same time. But, neither was going to happen. helluva note.

"Will," said the man who then apparently lost his voice. I waved him off. That seemed to silence him. She closed her robe, interesting I thought, an attempt at modesty under the circumstances seemed more than superfluous. She turned to him and said something. He nodded, turned, and walked out.

"You weren't supposed to see that," she said, the she being my wife. "How long have you been here?"

"A couple of hours, and no, I wouldn't imagine that I was supposed to see that-or hear-you know, how little you think of me as a man. How long," I said.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "And you are every inch a man. Never doubt that. I mean it."

"That long? And you really think I'm a man, every inch a man? Then explain to me how you could say the things you said in there, especially about my cock," I said.

I was actually feeling mellow. Wasn't I supposed to feel hurt, cold, angry something when I catch the love of my life fucking another man in our marital bed?

"Will, I'm sorry. But-it's not a problem really. I know you're hurt. Even if you don't know it yet," she said. "I did it-and, Will, I'm not sorry I did it-except for the hurting you part, like I said. And, my words-oh my how I wish I could take them back. God! How it must have hurt you to hear that."

"Interesting. You look awfully satisfied with yourself if I may say so. You're not sorry you did it? How am I supposed to deal with that?" I said.

"It's just sex, Will. I don't love Mr. Milford and he doesn't love me. He, we, just do it once in a while. It's, what, recreation, I guess," she said.

"Once in a while. Recreation. Like I said interesting," I said. Then, it hit me. You've been doing him since the beginning haven't you," I said. She looked down.

"My great job, the starting salary were rewards for you doing him? Right" I said.

"It hasn't hurt us a bit, Will. And, as for me getting you the job, well, yes, that part is true. But, you have more than proven yourself over the years. Your promotions were all on your own, no help from me," she said. "You sure didn't need me for that."

"But if I had needed it you'd have been there for me. Right? I mean in his bed, or, maybe our bed?" I said. "Right?"

"Will, you didn't need my help. You're good. I am very proud of you. I truly mean that. And if it matters, Joh… Mr. Milford is proud of you too," she said.

"That's nice, and no it doesn't matter anymore. Not since I now know I've been his cuckold, and yours, for years," I said. "A fucking cucky for god's sake. Well, that pretty much wipes out any vestige of self-respect that I might ever have been able to lay claim to doesn't it. I'm a fucking joke. A wimpy-assed fucking joke. Thanks a helluva lot, Riles.

"Can I ask? Are my kids even mine?" I said.

"Will Burton! I…"

"Save it Riley. I wouldn't believe anything you say now anyway. Not after discovering that you have been lying and cheating on me for years.

I had to ask. "Who was going to get the vice presidency at the meeting?" I said. "I mean if you're privy to such high things."

"Will, you deserve the VPship," she said; she looked sincere.

"I deserve it because you are a great piece of ass. Right, Riles?" I said.

"Will, John would have given it to you anyway. You and Cap are both good men. But, you have the edge having been involved with the independents. My pussy did not buy that for you," she said. She'd actually said that.

"Well, it's over now," I said. "I will be resigning tomorrow effective immediately."

"What! You'd quit a job you've put so much into? A job that pays you twice… " she'd slipped up there.

"Yeah, right, twice what I'm worth. I mean without your pussy to support me," I said.

"Will, it's not like that at all. You've got to stop being so childish. You do not need to quit your job. Yes, I fucked up doing it here in the house. But, you were supposed to be gone for another week.

"Will, I refuse to get all teary eyed and weepy over something that doesn't need to affect us at all."

"Can I ask why you did it in the first place? Am I that bad a lover, husband? I mean I heard you in there belittling me, but I know you and I have-well, I guess not, huh." She looked frustrated, no, determined.

"Truth?" I nodded. She hesitated; she was obviously wondering if, under the circumstances, telling the adorned truth was a good idea. I guess she decided that it was, but she was going to sugarcoat it a bit to make it, the truth, less cruel.

"You're a great husband, Will. But, in bed, well, you're okay. Nothing extra, but you are okay, You even get me off once in a while, and it's mighty hard for any man to get a woman off by fucking her regardless of what you think," she said.

"Nothing extra. You sure no how to hurt a guy," I said.

"Shit, I didn't mean that. Will, I just want to be up front with you. John, well, he's special in bed. His wife doesn't do it for him anymore, so I help him out once in a while. That's all," she said.

"What's once in a while, Riles. How often is that. How often do you light his fire?" I said.

"What the fuck difference does that make, Will. No let me answer my own question. It doesn't make any difference whatsoever. It hasn't hurt us a bit. Well, not until today."

"You said you wanted to be up front, Riles. So…"

"Okay, you asked for it. Almost every day, but at work, not here," she said.

That one threw me for a loop. I sagged back onto the couch I'd been sitting on.

It seemed odd, but I could smell her scent from the several feet that separated us, and it kinda turned me on.

"Jesus, I guess I must be some kind of clueless fool for sure, huh. The two of you must have had a lot of laughs at my expense over the years? I mean like today," I said.

"Will, nobody laughed at you, certainly not me," she said. "Today, was just a stupid bit of silliness on my part. Please, you've got to forgive me."

"I don't believe you, Riles. But, I guess that's one thing that really doesn't matter. The fact is that I was laughable. Helluva note. You know, Riles, I really thought that our marriage was one of the few really good ones. Just goes to show you, doesn't it.

"But, I do have just have one more question. Are we going to have to fight tooth and nail over custody? I really need to be around my girls, help bring them up, you know," I said. "I could forgive a lot on some level, Riles, but never if you are going to screw me over in the divorce too," I said.

"What? Custody? Divorce! What are you talking about. You can't be thinking of divorcing me. We've been together for fifteen years, longer really. We're a couple-soulmates." I smiled at her.

"We're done, Riles. I really do love you, always will. But, you obviously don't love me," I said.

"Will, today was an anomaly, and aberration. I will never-never-ever do anything to humiliate you like this again. And I do accept that I humiliated and belittled you. I will pay for that, believe me, for a long long time. I do love you, Will. More today than when we were married," she said. "John isn't part of us. He's just recreation."

"Riley, You just got done telling me that you have been making a cuckold out of me for the past twelve years at least. And, you admit to giving him at least twice the pussy that you ever gave me. Please, do you have any idea how I am feeling right now? You've destroyed me, Riles. You've killed my heart. Congratu-fucking-lations."

"No, Will, please. This is a very solvable problem. Really. Will, I will make this up to you in spades. You have to give me a chance. Just a chance," she said.

"You want a chance, Riles. Really?" I said. She looked hopeful.

"My God yes," she said.

"Okay, I will make you this offer. A one-time offer good for one minute, Riley. It's ironclad. Call him up, now. Tell him to fuck himself that you are quitting and that he is never to contact you again, not even to send you your final check-never-no contact. Whaddya say, Mrs. Riley Burton?" I said. The look on her face said it all.

"That's what I thought," I said. I'd already stood and was headed for the door. At the last second I turned to look back at my soon to be former wife.

"About the children. I really hope we won't have to be battling over them. I need to be able to see them at will." I walked out. She made no attempt to stop me or even speak to me as the door closed behind me.

******

The girls were staying with their grandma's, Riley's mom, Mrs. Charles Gibson; she let me in with a big smile. I knew that they had the day off from school because of some teacher conference being held in town. That they were not going to school worked for me.

Mary's husband had passed away some years before: heart problems. I'd showed up at her door within the hour of leaving their mother.

"Hi, Mary," I said. "I need to speak with my girls if I might. It's important." She eyed me, wondering no doubt at my serious demeanor

"Certainly, Will, I'll get them; they're doing something on the computer.

A minute later they came down the hall and plopped down in front of me on the couch.

"Hi daddy," said Gretel.

"Yeah, hi dad," said Gabrielle.

"Hi back atcha babies. I looked at them for a long moment. Fifteen, almost as beautiful as their mother. Smart and athletic too, as it'd turned out. I was one proud dad.

"Girls, I have something very important to say to you, to tell you. Okay" I said. They looked at each other and nodded in the affirmative.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I am just going to get down to it. Your mother and I are splitting up. The reasons are immaterial as far as you two are concerned, but it's going to happen. I just wanted to give you the news myself rather than have you hear it from someone else, even your mom. We both love you, and you can be with me or her, your choice. You can visit the other any time you want too, no restrictions. Do you understand, girls? Gretel? Gabi?"

"Daddy, no!" they said in unison.

"You can't divorce, daddy, split up. Not you and mom," said Gretel.

"Not even," said Gabi."

I could hear Mary in the kitchen on the phone. She hung up, loudly.

She came back into the room and stared at me. "Will, is it true?" said Mary. I nodded.

"Will, you have to try and patch it up. You two are meant for each other.

"Girls, could you give your dad and I a minute alone?" said Mary. The two teenagers rose and headed off down the hall; they seemed almost relieved. My heart was ripped apart having to tell them what I did.

"Wilfred Burton, What's all of this about? I just got off the phone with my daughter and she says you want a divorce and that you'd probably be by. She told me not to let you have the girls," said Mary. I had to marvel at my wife's selectivity of remarks.

"Want a divorce? No, Mary, that is not exactly the truth. I have no choice," I said. "You say she told you I couldn't have my babies?"

"Well, I mean…"

"Mary, I'm not here to cause trouble. I guess Riles is planning on fighting me for shared custody. If so, there will be a fight. I can't be separated from them. You can tell your daughter that all I want is unrestricted visitation. Less than that is not acceptable. They'll be sixteen in a few months and then it will be their choice anyway. So, really, I hope Riley won't be coming at me for what I consider a more than reasonable request," I said.

"Will, talk to her. Fix this. Whatever it is, it has to be fixable," she said. I smiled weakly.

"Mary, I love you. You've been and are a great grandma. Since my parents both passed, I-we've-kinda depended on you and you've always been there for us. Please, just get Riley to be straight with me on visitation. Unrestricted visitation, Mary. This doesn't have to degenerate into a battle royal. Okay?" I said. She nodded, but I wasn't sure if it was a nod of understanding or one of agreement. I guessed that I would soon know.

******

There was nothing for it. It had been a helluva morning. I'd walked in on them at a little after 7:00AM; he'd obviously stayed the night. I wondered if he'd be going in to work or if my showing up would have altered his plans for the day. Well, it didn't matter, I had to go in.

It was almost 1:00PM now, the conversation with the girls have kept me a little while, but there was still a lot of day left; and, being a man of action and not procrastination, I headed for the office.

I had to turn in keys and important papers and any number of important records before I could close out my retirement fund account, arrange for continued health insurance because I carried the girls on it-though I'd be dumping my wife off of it; she'd could get her own damn insurance now-and end my long association with my employer. I did not relish the prospect. I hoped the man who had spent years cuckolding me would have the decency to stand aside and allow me to leave quietly. Well, hopes notwithstanding, it wasn't to be.

"Hi, Sylvia," I said, "'fraid I need your help, girl," I said, I was smiling, but I didn't feel too good.

"How's that, Mr. Burton," said the girl who handled everything for HRO.

"I'm resigning effective immediately," I said.

"Huh!" said Sylvia.

"Yeah, it's for real. Handle it for me will you," I said. "I'll be keeping my health insurance and paying for it myself. Just send me all of the paperwork, so I can get it done easy. Okay?"

"Sure, Mr. Burton, but…"

"Yeah, I know, you have to get it cleared upstairs et cetera et cetera. Just do what you have to do, and sooner would be better than later," I said.

Well, that should have been it, or, rather in my dreams that should have been it. I got the message from my secretary not twenty minutes after my talking to Sylvia. I was just walking into my office to gather my stuff for my exit.

"Mister Burton, the big boss wants to see you. He said he wants to see you as soon as you come in," said Janet. Janet had been with me for the past three years and I valued her as a person and as a secretary. I sighed.

"Okay," I said. "I'll go up in a minute."

"Mr. Burton, are you really quitting?" said Janet. I had to marvel at the speed at which the rumor mills ground their produce.

"Yes, Janet. I am. Personal reasons," I said.

"You found out didn't you?" she said.

"Huh? What?" I said.

"The two of them have been doing it to you for a long time, Mr. Burton. Frankly I have wanted to tell you forever, but he would have fired me on the spot. I turned down a bonus from him because I knew it was nothing but a bribe to keep me from telling you. I did stay silent because I'm a single mom and couldn't afford to lose a job this good, but I'd be damned if I was going to profit from it," she said.

"Jesus! How many others knew I was being cuckolded?" I said.

"I don't know for sure, but more than me for sure," she said.

"Janet, if I can ever repay you for your loyalty, you can believe I will," I said.

"Thank you mister, Burton," she said. I kissed her on the cheek and headed up for my little confab with mister big dick.

His secretary had been told to expect me, and she shooed me right in. "Go in, Mr. Burton. Mr. Milford is expecting you," she said.

"I'll bet," I said, and went in.

He was seated behind his desk leaning back in his chair. He absently rotated a ballpoint pen in his hand as I took a seat across from him without waiting for an invitation. For a long moment we eyed each other. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Okay, you caught us. I'm a dirty rotten scoundrel. I'm also your benefactor, and hers too actually," he said.

"You fucked me over. You made me think that I had a job because of my talents when all the while my wife was paying for it. That kind of pisses me off," I said. He smirked.

"Yeah, I can imagine. But, that said, I don't want to lose you. Yeah, you got the job in the first place because she was so good-at-well-at what she does. Oh and by the way she's a damn good executive assistant too." he said.

"Look, Will, Riley aside, You've meant a lot to this company, and I am prepared to do what it takes to convince you to stay," he said. He was still smirking, but it wasn't a smart ass kind of smirk-strange. Nevertheless, I was prepared for his offer. Riley had hinted that there was a deal to be made if I would just reach out and take it.

"And your offer is?" I said.

"One, I'm done fucking your wife," he said. "I promise."

"Not that your word isn't golden, Mr. Milford, but it doesn't matter anymore; I'm divorcing her. You can screw her till Jesus comes again for all I care," I said. "What else you got on the table?"

"The vice presidency you were, I'm sure, expecting; and, I'll double your pay," he said. I stared. Just how mad was I, I asked myself. I had to ask the question. His offer was almost enough. Almost. I decided to up the ante.

"Almost enough," I said.

He gave me an incredulous look. "Huh? It's a hell of an offer, Willy, he said. "What else do you want?" he looked to be getting irritated.

"Like I said, you can fuck Riley forever for all I care, but I want a little payback. You made me an unknowing cuckold. I figure it's your turn. I wanna do your wife." His eyes became as big as dinner plates.

"What!" he almost screamed. "You want to fuck Olivia?"

"That's the deal. The VPship, the money, and your wife: put that package together and we're best of friends again," I said. He sagged back in his chair.

"Livy will never go for it," he said.

"Mister Milford, all I have to do to sink your ship is tell your wife what you've done to me. Today, I discovered that half the company knew what was going on. There won't be any problem proving my thesis to her." Okay, I exaggerated, but he didn't know that.

"You're a serious asshole, you know that," he said. I ignored his remark.

"Hey, I'm letting you have Riley, no strings. That ought to be incentive enough to get me a date with Livy," I said.

"If I want Riley, I wouldn't need your permission in case you haven't gotten that yet," he said. Now he was irritated.

"I want your wife, no negotiation on that point, John," I said his name with just a trace of sarcasm. "Fucking my wife for more than ten years and not so much as an apology. No, good buddy, I'm not the asshole here, you are. You're the asshole, and that in technicolor," I said. "But, as for you being able to do my wife at will; well, I guess you have a point there, obviously" I said.

"You gonna ask her?" he said. "I mean Olivia?"

"Have a barbecue at your place. Put me in a situation where I can come on to her; I'll do the rest," I said.

He nodded. "I'll set it up, but your production on the job best be of mythical proportions. Your wife is a good fuck, a really good fuck, but not good enough if you cost us business or my wife. Got it?" he said. I nodded.

"And, one last thing in case I wasn't clear enough. I do not want a divorce from 'my' wife. You can believe it or not, but I love her. She's boring as hell in bed, but in every other way she's tops. You mess up my marriage, and your next job will be flipping burgers at McDonald's. Got that!" he said.

"Got it," I said. "You know it's interesting. I mean the two of you, you and my wife. You both say you love, us, your spouses, except that we're not worth a damn in bed. Helluva thing." I was smiling broadly. "But actually, John baby, I think you and I are going to do rather well together.

"And, you know John, I guess when you think about it, my wife is still doing for me, if not actually doing me," I said. I started to laugh. The whole mess was ironic as hell.

Here I was dumping years of marriage and psychological investment in a woman, one that I was still madly in love with, at least on some level; and I was actually happy about it. Logical? Not on any level; but there it was. And I was shaking hands, albeit limply, with the one who had helped her to fuck me over. Hell, there was hope for the Jews and Arabs if this worked out as appeared to be the case.

"I'll spread the word that you've cancelled your resignation request," said John. "You still gonna divorce your wife? I mean under the circumstances-well-the status quo would be more than acceptable to me. Even if you do my wife. I mean if she goes along with it. I'm not hypocritical enough to call you out on that," he said.

"Divorce Riley? Let me ask you; do you plan to continue fucking her if I don't?" I said. "I mean forget this status quo shit. Think you could stay away from my wife's pussy?"

"Now? After the deal you just brokered yourself? Believe it, she'll be bent over my desk tomorrow morning. I guarantee it," he said.

"Then, I'm gonna divorce her." He snickered.

"Figures," he said.

******

It turned out to be a very busy day for me. I did everything I could to cut ties with my wife: bank, insurance, retirement, credit cards, medical and dental plans everything. She'd be okay; she made enough money; she could pay her own way. All I wanted was unlimited contact with my daughters and my freedom. A whore of a wife was not my cup of tea. The real question for me was where was I going to get my next piece of ass? Well, that had to go to the back burner for a while. I figured I could be celibate for the short range, until the divorce was final at least. My talk with the lawyer would dictate them apples, I thought.

******

I turned the corner onto our street and parked my Caddy in the driveway, and yeah, I had a Caddy just like good 'ole John's. I saw her glance out the window. Just a parting of the curtains before she let them drop. Good, she was interested. It figured to be an interesting evening.

I was putting down my briefcase on the credenza when she appeared in the doorway from her office. She leaned against the door jamb.

"Decided to come home did you?" she said. Her tone was cold. It kind of bothered me, though I couldn't say why exactly.

"Yeah, until we sell the place I'll be sleeping in the master bedroom you'll get the guest room," I said.

"Where are the children?" she said.

"Still at your mother's." She looked down.

"I was afraid you were going to try and take them away from me, Will," she said.

"I'm not that kind of guy, Riley. Can't say the same for you though, can I," I said. She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you mean my telling mom not to let you take them," she said.

"Absolutely," I said. "Kinda cold even for you."

"That's uncalled for, Will. Like I said, I was afraid that until you were a bit calmer, you might do something uncharacteristic of your normal self."

I snorted. "Uncharacteristic of me? What, may I ask, might qualify as being uncharacteristic of you, Riley-honesty?" She frowned.

"I need the master bedroom; you don't," she said. All my stuff is in there. All you need is your dopp kit."

"Tough shit. Take it or leave it. Until we sell the house and split the proceeds, that's the way it's going to be," I said.

"Look, Will, we do not have to get a divorce, and you do not need to quit your job. John is more than happy with your work and he will be mightily disappointed if you were to leave the company.

"Okay, so I screw the boss sometimes. So what. You and I get it on any time you want. You never get sloppy seconds, and neither does he. I keep the two of you totally separate. It's been twelve years, Will, and nothing bad has ever happened until yesterday. Can't we just put it all behind us and pick up where we left off," she said. I guess she had to take the shot.

"Are you aware that half the company knows about you and John? Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me to learn today? Any idea at all, Riley?" I said. "No, I don't think you do. So let me tell you. It's tremendously hurtful, Riley. So hurtful that I may never get over the fact that you were willing to do that to me."

That seemed to stop her. "Okay, Will, if that's the way it's going to be. I'll take the guestroom. I guess you're justified in getting a little payback for the-humiliation-I've caused you.

"You should talk to John though. No need for you to quit your job. I assure you he wants and needs your expertise," she said.

"Well, I have good news for you there, Riley. I'm not quitting," I said. Her eyes showed surprise, then a broad smile creased her features.

"That's good, very good," she said. "You talked to him?"

"Yes, this morning. We came to a number of understandings," I said.

"Can I be privy to what you two agreed to?" she said. I looked at her.

"Well, sure. He'll likely be telling you all about it in your next little pillow talk in any event," I said. She took on an irritated look at my words.

"One, more money; two, the VPship; three, he can fuck you any time he wants as far as I'm concerned.

"Well, actually, as to that last, he made sure I knew that he didn't need my permission to fuck you. I allowed that he was right about that. Actually, he told me, that when you come to work tomorrow, he will have you bent over his desk and screwing you quite enthusiastically before you even have your second cup of coffee. In any event, he and I are good. You might say the price was right," I said.

"But, not you and I?" she said.

"No. Not now not ever," I said. She smirked.

"Never say never, big guy. Never say never," she said. She turned and headed upstairs to move her stuff into the guestroom. Her ass swayed quite seductively as she floated up the stairs. Man, it was gonna be one helluva deal for me to go without her sweet pussy. But, what was, was."

******

"Gabi, what are we gonna do? You know, about mom and that boss lover of hers?" said Gret.

"We don't know that it's him for sure, Gret.

"But, even if it is, there's not much we can do about him for now. We just have to be there for mom and dad when they need us; especially dad," said Gabi.

"I heard mom talking on the phone yesterday, like I told you; and it's him, Gabs. She's got a boyfriend and his name is John. He's the reason dad is being so cold toward mom," said Gret. "You know as well as I do that it's him. She's always talking about her boss, whose name just happens to be John, and how good he's been to the family, even to dad."

"I think you're right, Gret. But, you know, what really got me?" Her sister motioned for her to go on. "I really didn't like mom telling grandma that dad couldn't take us with him. We can be with dad if we wasn't to, can't we?" said Gabi.

"I'm not sure, but since dad is still staying here at the house, I can't understand mom telling grandma that either. I mean where is he going to take us? Home?"

"Maybe him and mom are trying to work it out between them. I mean we can hope right?" said Gretel.

"Maybe, but I don't think so. Dad told me yesterday that there was definitely going to be a divorce, that it was just a matter of time.

You know maybe we could see if we could maybe break up mom and this John, regardless of what John it turns out to be," said Gabi. "You know, make it hard for them to do it?"

"Do it?"

"Have sex, dummy," said Gabi.

"Oh. I mean that would be a long shot, Gabs, and we could make things worse. I think for now we just need to listen and think and somehow some way figure out something," said Gretel.

******

"So, how did it go with you and the family last night," said John.

"Not too good. The kids have been informed about what's going on, and seem to be surviving. But him and me? I'm sleeping in the guestroom until we sell the house. I'm gonna hate that. I put a lot of effort into that house," said Riley.

"Hmm, well, maybe he'll mellow out if you give him a little time," said John. "But, for now I need you to come over here and bend over this desk. I need to pleasure you-and oh yes-me too," he said.

"Yeah, Will said that was what you said you were going to do as soon as I got to work today. What the hell. I might as well," she said. "I won't be getting' any from him any time soon; that's for darn sure."

She got up from the chair she'd plopped into upon arriving and headed for the desk. He was already up and coming around from the back of it. She stopped. She looked at him a slight smile playing across her features. Oh, the power of woman she thought; then, she thought, except when it came to hardheaded husbands.

Leaning over the desk. She felt him flip her skirt up onto her lower back. She spread her spiked-heel clad feet wide to accommodate him. Kneeling behind her, he pushed her panties to the side and kissed her private places, her pussy and her anus. He licked her for some moments before standing.

She heard his zipper sliding down and then the soft sound of his pants piling around his ankles on the floor. She felt him push the soft cotton of her panties aside once more and then the knob of his penis pressing against the folds of her labia. He pushed.

"Uhg!" It was always a challenge, at first, when he did her; the size of him was the challenge and the reward.

He began stroking in and out in and out finally pile driving his cock deep inside her. She squealed. "That's it lover, fuck me. Fuck me like you always do. I need it. I need it so bad."

Soon he was seesawing inside of her frenetically. "I'm cummmiinnnggg," she squealed, as she shuddered grotesquely skewered as she was by his cock. He collapsed onto her still bent over form.

"That ought to hold us for a while," he said, as soon as he caught his breath.

Moments later, dressed and relaxing across from each other, Riley indicated that she wanted to talk.

"He says he isn't quitting? I thought that he was outta here," she said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that he isn't, but yesterday it was all but a done deal."

"I was able to talk him out of it. One of the hallmarks of a good executive is the self-poesesedness to think pragmatically and efficiently under pressure. Granted this was a different kind of pressure because of the emotional component, but Wilfred Burton is more than capable of adjusting to almost anything any time," said John. "It's why I didn't want him to abandon ship. We do have a business here that makes all of us a pretty good living. Protecting that is my first priority.

"Years ago, when you came to me with a request for me to hire your hubby, I figured why not. I wanted to reward, not him, but you for the great sex. I figured, if he were good then fine. If he wasn't worth anything; well, you wouldn't be sticking with him for long anyway, and even if you did, I could park him in some dark corner someplace, where he couldn't hurt us, and forget him.

"But, he turned out to be the best we've got, as you predicted, if I recall rightly. I didn't want to lose him to the competition. It cost me, but he's gonna be a fixture around here. And, the odd thing is, I think he and I will be getting along just fine from here on out. I mean even if you and I still do the dirty together," he said.

"Did he have anything to say about me?" she said.

"Well, yeah, actually, he did. He said I could fuck you anytime I wanted to." Her look darkened, but he didn't notice.

"Well, I better be getting back to work," she said. "I know the boss and he's kind of a stickler for production."

"Yeah, he is." he said.

******

They were not taking no for an answer. "Gabi, Gret, It isn't that this isn't any of your business. On some level of course it is. That said, girls, I need you to stay out of it.

"Your mom and I have a lot of issues. And they are pretty much insoluble. But, that said, you two are our first priority. You have to trust us that you are going to be fine. She and I-well-we'll be fine too. Okay?" I said. They looked dubious, but they nodded their reluctant agreement.

I'd have to be talking to Riley again about the girls. Apart from a few to testy words we'd so far shared, if shared is the right term, the subject of the girls had not been brought up between us. They would be now. Oh, yeah.

******

Riley:

He was home early. I always beat him home-always. But not today. There had to be a reason. I stood in the kitchen doorway and stared at him; he didn't see me. He was sipping his drink, probably a tequila, I thought.

"You gonna just stand there, or are you going to come in and sit down," he said.

Oops, he had seen me. I came in and sat down. Well, he'd asked me to, not too nicely, but he had asked.

"Well, I'm here. So what does my future ex-husband need from this poor girl, this evening. Not a piece of ass I presume," I said. Okay, I was being sarcastic.

"We need to talk. It's about the girls," he said. I felt myself lose some of my composure when he said that.

"Okay. Let me have it," I said.

"They know what's going on, at least some of it," said Will. "Today they pinned me. Wanted to know why you and I couldn't just kiss and make up. I told…"

"Well that makes a club of three, then, doesn't it. You know, the girls and me," I said.

"You're not serious. You really and truly think that I can just let what you have been doing to me for these last many years slide. Just forget it all happened.

"And what if I did agree to forgive and forget. You gonna give up mister superduper stud and sin no more?" said Will.

I sighed and sank deeper into the chair I was sitting in. "No, I know I've hurt you, us. I'm sorrier about that than you can ever imagine. But, the fact is Will-no wait, you asked if you should forget what I have been doing these past many years. The answer is no.

"I have taken care of you, loved you to pieces, spread for you whenever and wherever you so desired. I have been there for you when the going was tough in those early days. And yes, I used-my-powers of persuasion to get you your first real job. Guilty on all counts. So, no, please don't forget all of what I've done for you these past many years. Not even.

"But, all such being true, and it is all true, I have cheated on you with another man-just one by the way. For me that part was just a matter of sex, of fun. And, I won't deny it, of business too.

"John is a really good sex partner, Will, and yes before you press me; he is better than you. Apart from the sex, Will, John's also a good guy and an excellent business man; I know you know that as well as I do.

But, so your ego won't take too big a hit, Will," I smiled, "he's not that much better than you when it comes to sex, just a deal bigger. You're okay as a lover, Will, quite satisfactory actually.

"So sure, I fuck him. But, always at work, except for that one time here-Jesus I wish that had never happened. But it did, and I can' take it back."

He snorted his contempt for my. "Question, Riley, did you fuck him today?"

I hesitated. "Yes. In his office. As usual." I was feeling-guilty. I was talking bravado but I was feeling regret.

What do you propose, Will? I mean about the girls," I said.

"They can stay with which of us they want, and they can switch and change their minds as they see fit; and both of us, have open visitation when the girls aren't staying at our place. It's all I'm asking for except out," he said.

"Okay, to the part about the girls, I was going to propose about the same thing. And, I'm sorry about what I told my mom; that was academy award stupid on my part. It'll never happen again. But, Will, I wish you'd reconsider about the divorce. Couldn't we try something else, Will, a separation maybe. You know take some time to maybe heal the wounds," I said, "I mean before we make an end to us? I really do love you. And, I never meant to hurt you. I really never meant to hurt you, my good man."

"I don't think so, Riley. Too many mental images of him doing you to overcome," he said. "Even after last night you went and fucked him again today. I have no words, Riley. You're not even willing to slow down let alone stop." I looked down.

"Whatever," I said. I was feeling down and frustrated. "For the record, I really am glad you didn't quit your job. Don't ever do something like that because of somebody else, not even me. Oh, and congratulations on your promotion.

"You going to the annual all divisions meeting?" I said.

"Yes, have to, I guess. I mean, not be there for my own promotion? Like that would be allowed, even under the circumstances. No, I gotta be there. You?" he said.

"Yes, I'll be there. I am the boss' executive secretary after all," I said. He nodded. He didn't take the pot shot at me that I realized I had offered up to him. We did have to work together on some level regardless of personal antipathies. I wondered how that might be working out in the future; for damn sure it was going to be interesting.

******

The big night was, well, big. Three hundred big wigs and their significant others from all over the country: the annual divisional soiree.

Spouses were supposed to accompany their, well, spouses to the big event. Great food, several free watering stations, and a bevy of boring speeches. The highlights of the evening? Promotions and retirements. But then, the party. Everybody danced with everybody else's wife or husband. Except for me, I danced with John's wife, and a couple of others, including Mrs. Mercer, but not with my own. I'm sure some noticed, but nothing was said.

I was dancing with Olivia Milford and deliberately doing it as close to the table where Riley sat gabbing with a couple fo girls from accounting as I could. "I hear you're coming to the barbecue at our house on Saturday next," said Olivia Milford.

"Absolutely," I said. "Wouldn't miss it."

"I noticed that your wife is here tonight but not with you," she said.

"We're estranged, I'm afraid," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It must be hard. Her sitting over there and you, well, not sitting over there," she said. "I did wonder about that."

"It's a long, sad story. We'll be divorcing."

"Hmm. I see," she said.

We got through the night, and surprisingly I had fun. I did have to make a short speech thanking John for his confidence in me, something I would rather have avoided, but it was a mandate, no gettin' around it. I did notice that my wife applauded a little longer than most when I was through. Yes indeed, the future was looking stranger and stranger.

One thing happened at the party that changed everything for me, all of my plans. It turned out that I liked Olivia: I liked her too much to fuck with her feelings. I pulled John aside and told him that he was off the hook in terms of my screwing his wife. I would come to the barbecue, but just as a guest, not as Shylock looking for his pound of flesh. He actually sagged back against the bar in relief.

"Thank you. I am very appreciative of your decision," he said.

"Yeah, well, never mind. No problem for me. Riley and I are done, and I am getting on with my life. It's just that simple," I said.

I did attend the barbecue, but Riley did not. I guess her lover had decided not to rub my nose in it since I was being so reasonable about not going after his wife.

******

The next six months were busy for me, as I took over the division and finally settled everything with the girls and with Riley. I was giving Riley the house; it was paid for, so she had no complaints.

The divorce was final after six months from the filing and we got on with our lives.

The next few years, four of them, seemed to fly by. The girls were nineteen now and independent as hell. Riley and I'd attended most all of the girls' do's both in high school, and, so far, in their college careers. They were both business majors. I guess the one thing for sure that Riley and I had bequeathed the two of them was our love for the battlefields of business.

Riley and I didn't socialize, she and I, and I didn't ask about her personal life; and the girls were under orders not to inform me of such. Oddly, John and I did socialize. We weren't close friends, but, also oddly, Olivia and I became such.

The girls had continued to live with their mother, she had the house. But, now they were off to college, so that too now changed. They'd become dorm rats; so, where they lived was no longer an issue. By agreement I'd had unrestricted access to them, which essentially meant that Riley and I got along okay: it'd been all I'd wanted. There'd been no alimony either. Riley made enough, and with the house her expenses were well within her means.

But, as things sometimes go, a quirk of fate changed everything.

******

I was sitting at the bar when Maria, a long time friend, came in and sat down next to me. I say a long time friend, but she was the kind of long time friend I hadn't seen in a long time: like since right after college. "Hi stud, and how are we today?"

"Maria! Wow, you look great. I'm okay. You? It's been a million years," I said.

Maria and I had almost become an item at a time when Riley and I had temporarily been on the outs. It'd been during my first year in college. It might have come to something, but then I caught her fucking Johnny Bascom my, so called at the time, best friend; which put whatever might have been to the sword. But, what the hey, we were single and what I saw as her betrayal became a so what kind of thing. We never did date again let alone get back together, but we were able to remain on speaking terms.

"Yes it has been forever, and I'm good, I guess. Still looking for the right man. You wanna volunteer?" she said. She was laughing. "I know I blew it back then."

"Hah! You wouldn't want me, Maria. My ex has assured me that I'm-how did she phrase it-nothing extra in bed," I said. Now, I snickered.

"That's nonsense, Wilfred Burton. I know; I have experienced your skills, and they weren't half bad even then. Anyway, I did hear that you were divorced. Must be tough," she said.

"Yeah, kinda. But, I'm gettin' along okay. How'd you hear? I mean about my divorce," I said.

"Well, since you ask, I heard it from your ex," she said.

"From Riley?" I said. "Where did you bump into her?"

"At Fernando's Hideaway, she was there with her daughters. They were having a gay old time, though I think your wife was kinda into her cups.

"She and I knew each other back in the old days, at the university, but you know that. Actually we've bumped into each other, as you put it, once or twice over these past many years." I recognized her as soon as I came into the restaurant," she said. I raised an eyebrow.

"Her daughters are lookers for sure. Driving the boys crazy, I'm sure," she said.

"Yes, 'our' daughters are as pretty as they come," I said. She eyed me.

"Your daughters?" she said. She seemed to look away.

"What?" I said, wondering what she was getting at with her tone of voice. I was beginning to have a very uneasy feeling.

"You say, 'our' daughters?" said Maria. "You mean you think Gretel and Gabrielle are your biological daughters?"

"What are you trying to tell me, Maria?" I said.

"Wilfred, I'm sorry, I thought you knew. I work at a medical lab. The techies there do lab work for everything under the sun. Your wife, your ex, had the girls DNA tested-for evidence of paternity years ago. They're not yours, not biologically. I know that from overhearing a conversation between her and one of the doctors at the lab at the time. They were 'biologically' fathered by some guy named John; I didn't get the last name. I'm sorry, Will. But, I thought you knew. Actually, I thought that was the reason for the divorce, when I found out you were divorced that is," she said.

I sat there momentarily stunned. The girls were tall, but so was their mom, but, so was John Milford. Their hair was the same color as their mother's, blond, where mine was black. John Milford's hair was sandy colored. The girls had green eyes; neither Riley nor I had green eyes: mine were brown hers were blue. I had to think, and now I realized that John Milford's eyes were greenish-gray. Evidence that he was my girls' father? Maybe. But, that notwithstanding, thinking about it, there was virtually no physical trait that would lead one to believe that I was their father! I had to get out of there.

I stood, tossed a twenty on the bar, and started to walk away. I stopped. I returned to where Maria sat staring after me.

"Maria, I don't have to tell you that what you have just told me is a killer. Would it be inappropriate for me to ask you for your phone number? I mean I might need a witness at some point. I don't know," I said.

She pulled out a small pad of post-it's from her purse and jotted down her numbers: work and cell. "Here they are, Will, my contact numbers. Will? They're still your children even if not biologically. You raised 'em; they're yours. Okay?" she said. I nodded, how convincingly, I couldn't guess.

Once again, I started to walk off, but once again, I stopped and returned to her. "Maria, question, do you know if the 'biological father knows about it?"

"No, Will, I'm not sure. Like I said; all I know for sure is that his name is John," she said. I nodded and finally got out of there.

******

I decided a visit was in order. Oh yes, a visit, definitely a visit. I knocked. I felt funny knocking at her door: the one that had been ours so long ago. She answered not ten seconds later.

She could see I was not in a good mood. But, she played it cool.

"Will, nice to see you. Come in," she said. I didn't return her greeting.

Once inside I looked around. It'd been years since I'd actually crossed that threshold; she'd remodeled the place considerably. Well, it was hers now.

"Have a seat, Will. Can I get you anything?" she said.

"No? I just have a few questions I need to ask. Okay?" I said. My tone was even, not conciliatory, not friendly just even. She looked askance at me.

"Will?"

"Who fathered my children, Riley?" Her face paled virtually immediately. She slumped into the rocking chair by the fireplace. She didn't look at me, didn't answer me, not immediately at any rate.

"How did you find out?"

"Who the fuck fathered my children," I screamed. It jolted her out of whatever state she was in. She jumped in her seat.

She was already crying. "John did! John Milford. It was an accident. But, then, I was always an accident waiting to happen wasn't I?" she said.

"Does he know? How long has he known?' I said.

"Yes. He's known for a long time. He noticed the similarity in their physical appearance to him. He had them checked out.

"Will, he has sworn not to ever make an issue of it, never to come between you and the girls." she said.

My turn to fall into a chair, but there wasn't one. I made the couch do. There were several minutes of silence between us.

My mind was alternatingly filled with hate, fear, angst, confusion who knew what else. "They're mine," I said. "You fuck with me on that, he fucks with me on that, and the price will be insanely high. Depend on it." I had slowly turned to look at her. Her makeup was already smeared, her face streaked with tears; she looked pathetic.

"I'm sorry, Will, sorry for everything. Of course the girls are yours. No question; and I will support whatever you want to do, say, think, believe anything, Will. Please forgive this whore of an ex-wife, please. I beg of you."

I was conflicted. I wanted to smash her face in, hold her and love her, sue the both of them into poverty, congratulate them on being able to keep a secret longer than I ever had-all of it at the same time.

"Will, I have given up John. He and I haven't been together in a while now. All of it: the big cock, the raw sex, the treating you like a distant family friend; Will, it's all over. Will, this is going to sound about as strange as anything I ever said. But…"

"But what!" I said, as she paused. I don't know what I was expecting her to say, but what she did say was not it.

"I want to remarry you. I have long known that you and I were meant to be together. I just didn't know how to fix things. The bad news is that I still don't know. All I know is that I want to give us a chance, another chance," she said.

One could have heard a pin drop. I slowly closed my mouth. It had been gaping for some little time since her announcement. "Huh?"

She didn't smile, but she gave me what could only be described as an earnest look.

"Huh?" I repeated.

"It would be best for the girls and most of all it would be best for me, and, hopefully me and you," she said. I rose, and headed for the door. I looked back.

"I have some things to do. You and I will be talking," I said.

******

I didn't call my lawyer first. I didn't call John Milford. I didn't call Maria Sanchez. I would be calling all of them at some point, or, seeing them in person. No, the one I called first was Olivia Milford.

I was sitting facing the doorway. My fingers were beating a tattoo on the table top. I hadn't stopped fidgeting since my little sit down with Riley.

I had no intention of living with the status quo. Things were going to be changing and that fucking immediately. I saw her come in. She was looking serious. Well, and so she should have.

"Hello, Wilfred. What's going on? Whatever it is you sounded like it was urgent when you called," said Olivia.

"It is, Olivia, it is. There is no easy way to say this… " she smiled.

"Will, I think I know what you're going to say. John and your wife. They've been getting it on forever. I know. And, you just found out, right?" she said. "I truly thought you knew."

"Huh? You knew? You knew and you haven't done anything about it?" I said.

"Wilfred, John is an animal in bed. The best I ever had, and no offense, Will, but probably the best your wife ever had as well," she said. "So long as he comes home to me, and doesn't disgrace me publicly, I've found that I can live with his cheating."

"Jesus! Well, I don't know what you consider disgracing you, Olivia, but half the company knows about the two of them. And, as far as I know none of them know that you know," I said. Her face darkened; she clearly had not known that. What I was about to tell her would pretty definitely put her oars in the water; she was going to be getting away from his fucksmanship if her look was any indication, and it was ten-to-one that it was.

"But, no, Olivia, that's not why I asked you here. Not close," I said. She spread her hands slowly in a sign that I should continue.

Olivia, my children are not biologically mine," I said. Now her eyes dilated and she surged forward in her seat. The waitress took that moment to arrive. The place was fairly crowded with the early dinner folks; it was almost 5:00PM.

"Wilfred Burton, are you saying that your children are John's!" she said. I nodded.

"But, Olivia, they are not really his; they're mine. Make no mistake," I said. "Gretel and Gabrielle are mine-never his!" Her turn to nod.

"What are you going to do?" she said.

"Not sure yet. I just found out and I'm still kinda numb. I will be making some decisions very soon. But, that said, I will not stand for anymore secrets. The girls are about to be told, and as for your husband, he and I are going to be talking," I said.

"I assume you found all this out from you ex?" she said.

"No, actually, a third party. But, my ex has confirmed it," I said.

"I see," she said.

"Why are you telling me this, Will? I mean I want to know of course, and you and I are in the same boat here, as I see it…"

"Yes, we are in the same boat. I'm giving you the heads up because I have come to like you. I consider you a close friend, and I didn't want to sandbag you," I said.

"Well, thank you for that, Will. And to answer your so far unasked question I am not sure what I'm going to do. But like you, I will be speaking with my erstwhile hubby quite soon and quite pointedly," she said, "and I better like what he's going have to say."

"I'd appreciate it if you would let me talk to him first," I said.

"No problem, let me know when it's done, so I can have my shot at him," she said. I had to smile at that. I didn't know what being castrated would feel like, but I was pretty sure that I'd be able to get an accurate description from John after Olivia got done talking to him.

"I will," I said.

******

My next stop was the following morning. He must have gotten a head up from Riley because he knew I was coming and what it was going to be about.

He was leaning back against the front of his desk, I guessed he wanted to be on his feet and not a "sitting" duck when I was ushered in by his secretary.

I went for him and unloaded a left hook and a right cross that floored him before we even shared a hello.

He pulled himself up off of the floor and rubbed his jaw. "Not bad for a little guy," he said. "I owed you that one."

I made to lay another one on him, but he held his hands in front of him warding me off. "Hold on for a minute, Hoss. I deserved that, I owed you, like I said, but I do not deserve to be killed.

"I'm twice your size, Will, and I'll be defending myself from now on. I do not want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.

"I know you have things you want to say to me, and I will listen to whatever it is; but no more violence. Okay?" His little speech deflated me. I knew I had no chance against him in a fight anymore than I did in a fucksmanship contest.

"You had to do this to me!" I said. "You had to take everything away from me?"

"No. The truth is, Riley and I almost always used condoms. Once in a blue moon we didn't. Well, you know what happened. For the record I didn't know anything about it for a long time. I don't think that Riley did either. But, as the children grew; well, I noticed that they looked like Riley okay, but also more like me than you. I wondered, so I had it checked out. It was easy for me, and then I knew.

"I even thought about fessing up to you. But in the end, well, I talked to Riley about it and we convinced ourselves that what you didn't know didn't hurt you. We'd already hurt you bad enough. So…"

"You never figured that I would notice the same things you noticed?" I said.

"Actually, I didn't. You're just one of those who never notices those kinds of things. You have a great business sense, Will, but in the personal stuff, the little stuff, you've got no clue. Sorry, but it's true," he said. "I'd like to know if you're of a mind to tell me. How did you find out?"

"Somebody else noticed," I said. A slight realignment of the facts, but I wasn't ready to out Maria yet. He nodded.

"I intend to tell the girls. They are mine in every way it's possible to be mine. You were the sperm donor, but that's it," I said. "I was there for them when they played their sports. I was there when they went to the hospital with this or that illness or injury. I was there for their moment of thespian glory in junior high, and I was there when they graduated from high school. And, I'm the one who is paying outrageous sums for them to go to the university. You were not and are not!" He looked sad.

"Actually, I was," he said. "I was there for all or most all of those things."

"What! You were not!" I said.

"Let me explain, Will. I guess it's time to tell all. I seethed, but nodded for him to continue.

"I was there. I saw those plays, I was at those games, I was there at their graduation; and, indirectly I paid for their college-as I should have. And, before you get mad and haul off and slug me again, and you won't win if you try, let me get it out and said. Okay?" I nodded. I was fuming, but I waited for him to go on.

"When the kids had their events, I knew about them because Riley clued me. She always made the point that they were your kids, hers and yours; but she allowed that I needed some small piece of them as well. Just from a distance, Will, just from a distance. It was enough for me. I was married too, still am, and I didn't want, and do not want a divorce. So, like I say, from distance.

"When you made VP, it wasn't, as you first thought, because Riley was a great piece of ass. It wasn't even because you had more experience with the independents than did Cap Weintraub did. It was because I knew the girls were going to be going to college, and while you could afford it on what you were making, it was going to make a pretty big dent in the old wallet for you. So I made you VP and paid you twice what Mercer had made.

"You can call me an asshole, and I'm sure you have, Will; but my heart was in the right place regardless of what you, Riley, or anyone else thinks. The girls are yours, but in my way, I love them too.

I couldn't believe my ears, but I did. He'd fucked my wife virtually nonstop for years. He'd fathered my girls. He'd cuckolded me and made a fool out of me in more ways than one, but for some reason; I just couldn't bring myself to hate the guy, and no, it wasn't the money. I turned around and headed out.

******

I called Maria. I needed that hot blooded Latin to hold my hand. I needed somebody to for goddamn sure!

"You look good," she said. I wasn't sure if she were being sarcastic or if she'd gone blind, but I had signaled the barkeep to bring her whatever she fancied anyway.

"Well, I've had it out with the cheaters," I said. "The one wants to remarry me and the other one tried to justify himself. Helluva world. "I didn't tell you before, but the man is my boss. He pays me almost half a mother-in-law annual to do for him, well, his company. Add to that, that my woman has been his whore almost since day one."

"So, what are you gonna do," she said.

"Damned if I know. As far as I know the girls don't know yet. But, hell, maybe they do. I'll be talking to them right soon," I said.

"You feeling okay, Will? Need a friend?" she said. She was reading my mind.

"As a matter of fact I do need a friend, Maria. It's been a long time between gigs for us, you and me, but if you in the mood; I sure as fuck am!" I said.

Aaaaaaa

******

"Dad, I don't care what mom says or her boss or any of it you're my daddy-period," said Gret.

That goes for me too, daddy," said Gabi. "We've never met the asshole, spoken to him, or really know anything about him."

"Girls this is going to sound strange as hell. I mean the man helped my wife cuckold me. He fathered you two. And her! Your mother? I have no words. She actually proposed to me that we should remarry, if you can believe it," I said.

"Daddy?" said Gret.

"Not going happen. That said, after all is said and done, I can't bring myself to hate either of them. They are what they are, who they are, and that's the long and the short of it. I think that maybe to some degree they have loved each other. Certainly your mother loved him more than she ever loved me, her protestations to the contrary notwithstanding. But, sad to say for her, he loves his wife more than your mother. Talk about catch-22's."

"Daddy, I think mom loves you more than she does that man," said Gabi. "We've talked, the three of us, and Gret and I are sure of it."

"Too late, Gret. There are too many mental images to erase, and I cannot imagine any scenario where it might be possible to erase them all. No, I will be moving on. As will they. We'll get along; I can do that. But, please girls, don't ask more of me than that. There's just no way."

******

With the girls onboard and everything out in the open, we all settled in for the long haul.

John had apparently stopped coming onto Riley, and she was seeing some customer that owned a small chain of dry goods stores. I wondered how liberal the guy was. The girls told me he was okay, in fact they like him better than her! Interesting.

Maria and I became an item, and I soon realized what I'd missed out on by not forgiving and forgetting back when it would have made sense to do so: we, Maria and I, were both single at the time. At any rate it was all water under the bridge.

We'd just finished eating at the 1917, a World War-I theme bar and grill in the valley.

I felt funny kneeling in front of her holding the ring I'd gotten her the day before.

"Yes, Wilfred Langford Burton, I will marry you," said Maria. She knelt down in front of me and kissed me very gently, then very passionately to the screams and cheers of the people in the restaurant.

Our most ardent cheerleaders were Gret and Gabi. We all kissed and hugged, and then had desert. I had an appetite again, go figure.

Riley made peace with the girls, as to their parentage. It turned out the that they, the girls, had had no clue about their parentage. John was introduced to them. The meeting was a bit stilted, as described to me after the fact, but everyone got through it, and I guessed he'd be a little more in evidence in the future. But that remained to be seen.

It was time to get on with our lives. Helluva thing.

-----------------------------

   Series:Rob and Amanda Lundsford
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She sorta loves him but he is most definitely not in her league.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/72833/rob-and-amanda-lundsford
Published:2012-12-06
I'm Robert Lundsford, age thirty-eight; stock broker for Hilling's Investments, husband, and as I now know an unknowing cuckold. My wife of ten years is Amanda Lundsford age thirty-six; works for Hammond Industries, wholesalers of kitchenware; she's a receptionist-oh-and a lover of men. We'd moved to Des Moines almost immediately after marrying. I had a friend, Bret Hilling's. He and I had attended state college together; his offer of employment was an opportunity too good to pass up.

Amanda is tall, at five-ten, and slender; I sometimes call her Willow. Me? Five four, also slender and still with all my hair-thank God. Yeah, yeah, I know she's way too tall for me; but fact is she'd assured me she liked short guys. Well, hell, there had to be at least one woman in the world who did-right? Seemed fair to me, I mean since I like 'em tall and slinky; which pretty much describers my Amanda, so shoot me.

Oh, and no kids.

Things have been mostly good for us. Sex good, incomes "really" good, and we get along socially pretty well. Well, that is until the last few months. Lately, I have been the object of what I consider some fairly obvious neglect by my wife. And, things are fast coming to a head.

******

"I am not the wimp you think I am, Amanda, no matter what your friends say or you believe. You have disrespected me for the last time," I said. She tendered me an indulgent smile.

"Robbie, I never said you were a wimp. And, neither has anybody else," she said, laughing. "Just calm down. Okay?"

"I…"

"Amanda, can I have this dance," said Chester Warfield, coming up to us for the tenth time this evening, or so it seemed to me.

"Sure, Chester. It's okay with you isn't it honey?" she said, as he pulled her away from me before I could even answer her.

The smiles from the cluster of little two person bar tables surrounding ours were telling. The tables were peopled all, or mostly all, by her friends on this night. I was humiliated and feeling real low. I wanted my woman, but it was beginning to look like I didn't even have a woman of my own. Fuck, maybe I was the wimp she obviously thought me.

I seethed and waited for her return. I looked up at the clock 10:30. I was almost surprised as she was back right after her dance with Chester. But, just as I was about to ask her to dance myself, Chester, rather than walking off, plopped down on the seat next to her: I was on one side of her and he was on the other.

"Honey would you get us a couple of drinks please," said Amanda. I decided to make a stand.

"No," I said. She proffered me a sidelong glance.

"Chester, would you be a dear," she said.

"Certainly," he said.

"Look, Amanda, You made me come to this thing tonight. You danced with me exactly once. Who the heck are you married to if you don't mind my asking?" I said. She gave me a look. There ensued a few minutes of pregnant silence.

Apparently concerned by my attitude, and my tapping foot, she opened up. "Now, honey, don't be like that. You'll get your chance to dance with me." Just then Chester arrived back at the table with two drinks-my glass had been empty too. Clearly he'd gotten one for each of them. I decided to make my stand now. I took the one he'd set in front of himself and downed it.

"Thanks," I said. "I needed that."

"What the fuck!"

"Robbie, what are you doing?" said Amanda.

"Standing up for myself," I said. Suddenly there was a flurry of subdued chatter from the tables around us.

"Robbie!"

"You know-fuck it!" I said. I rose and headed for the door. I was home twenty minutes later and waiting on her. We were going to have it out. She had to know I wasn't going to be putting up with anymore of her shit; or, if she didn't she soon would.

Well, as it turned out, I guess she wasn't especially worried about my stand; she arrived two hours after me.

I was sitting at the dinette, tapping my fingers on the table. She came in through the front door.

"Thanks a lot Chester. I don't know what I would've done without you," I heard her say.

She saw me. "So you're still up," she said. "We'll talk tomorrow. I'm tired. And, I need to cool off after you humiliated me like that."

"Humiliated you? That's a laugh. And, we'll either talk it out now, or I'm going to be going now, and I mean permanently," I said.

"What! Are you out of your mind! What's gotten into you," she said.

"Frankly I've wondering who might be getting into you. And, in case it matters to you my answer is not me for one," I said. "No sex for the past six weeks, not even any kisses of the 'I love you' variety. One dance in three hours tonight. Ordered to caddy drinks for you and your soon to be new boyfriend, I'm sure. Put another way, you've neglected me badly, and I'm done with it. Things do a one-eighty starting now, or we're through," I said. She eyed me.

"Robbie, I haven't been neglecting you; well, not consciously. Has it really been that long since we've done it together? I didn't realize…"

"You didn't realize it because you didn't care," I said. "Like I said, a one-eighty or nothing. Make up your mind now"

"Honey, yes we'll, I'll, do better by you starting now. But, just calm down. And, tonight was-well-whatever it was. An accident, nothing intentional, really," she said.

"Come on, let's go to bed. We can talk some more tomorrow. Okay?" she said. "I'm bushed." I was tired too so I nodded my okay.

Once upstairs I had a thought. "Amanda, don't bother wearing anything to bed. You won't need them," I said. Her look was one of frustration-no-exasperation.

"Honey, could we wait till tomorrow. I really am bushed," she said.

"No," I said. She shook her head slowly.

"Okay, but don't expect a lot of energy on my part. But, I guess I do owe you a little something tonight if it's really been six weeks," she said.

She stripped. I stripped. She lay beside me staring at the ceiling. She was clearly waiting for me to take the initiative.

She let me kiss her, but she didn't actively return it. She just lay there-what-enduring me.

"What nothing at all from you. You just gonna be like some blowup doll for me to get my rocks off?" I said. She wrinkled her brow and looked over at me.

"I'm tired okay!" There was that exasperated attitude again.

"And what about tomorrow morning or tomorrow night. Gonna be the same shit?" I said.

"No. No. That would be much better. Tomorrow," she said. I nodded and rolled over. I wasn't happy, but truth told I really was very tired too.

******

It didn't happen in the morning, and she was gone most of the day with her partner in crime Missy Dunlap. Where, I had no idea. I had yard work to do, it being Saturday, so her absence actually worked for me. She returned at around 6:00PM.

She made dinner, we ate, and we cleaned up.

"How about going to bed early," I said, testing the waters. There was that exasperated look again.

"Yeah, okay, if you can't wait," she said. All of a sudden I knew what I had to do.

"Never mind. I've lost interest. Just forget it." I headed up the stairs; she didn't. I began packing. The marriage was over.

It was maybe fifteen minutes later that she came up. She was startled to see me packing.

"What are you doing Robbie?" she said.

"Leaving you." I continued to pack.

"What the fuck! I said we could go to bed early if you wanted," she said.

"Yeah with all of the enthusiasm of someone awaiting execution," I said.

"Robbie, that's not true!" she said.

"Yes it is," I said. "Goddamn it, yes it is!"

"No, Goddamn it; no it's not!" Well, at least I was getting some reaction out of her, some show of emotion.

"I want an enthusiastic lover," I said," not just toleration. I'm not into mercy fucks as you might well imagine."

"What? What! You're nuts," she said.

I continued to pack, but then something happened that put me back on my heels-literally. I turned to say something as I snapped shut the second suitcase, and I was met with a left hook and a right cross to the jawline that put me down and out. I'd never seen it coming.

I don't know how long I was out, but when I awoke, I was tied hand and foot and spread eagled to the bed posts.

She stood over me, next to the bed. I tested my bonds; there was no give. She was dressed in a very sexy teddy. One I'd never seen before. She smiled.

"Decided to rejoin the world of the living?" she said.

"What the fuck! Let me out of this! Untie me now, Amanda. I mean it," I said.

"Not until I've made my case that you are not just some gofer for me and my friends. Rather that you are loved and appreciated for what you can do for me, and I do mean in bed. And, that you have completely misread my actions and attitudes of last night and tonight. I may not succeed, but I sure as hell plan to give it my best shot," she said.

"You may have the upper hand now, but you can't keep me tied up like this forever. I will get loose and you will pay," I said.

"Hmm, maybe, but I'm betting that you may want to rethink your attitude when I'm done with you," she said.

"Not hardly," I said.

"Hmm, your johnson seems to be on my side. Would you mind if I join you there on the bed and lick and suck it for a while?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She just climbed up and knelt between my legs.

She reached for my cock and toyed with it teasingly for some little time. "Hmm, only six inches, but it'll have to do." she said. "Sure you want to object to what I'm doing." I just shot her a look that was supposed to be threatening; she just laughed, bent forward and licked me from bottom to top swirling her tongue around the glans. She was driving me crazy.

Truth was that I was so horny that I would have killed for this moment. And also truth told, everything else notwithstanding, I didn't want her to stop, not even.

I began to stiffen. She stopped sucking me off for a moment. Looked up into my eyes and smiled. "I'm going to swallow it all. Then, we're going get you up again and we're going to fuck. And, god help you if you don't make me cum," she said.

She was true to her word. She swallowed every iota of my cum as spurt after spurt of my juices sprayed the insides of her mouth and she never even grimaced. I would worry later about how she became so good at giving head.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she began her campaign to get me erect once more. It didn't take long. She licked me, but did not suck me, and tickled my balls to the point of distraction. Hard once again, she mounted me cowgirl and began sliding up and down on my cock. Some ten minutes later-literally-I felt her squirm and mumble and groan and moan and finally scream as she made it. She kept drilling me until I made it maybe thirty seconds after her.

She plopped down beside me. "God that was good," she said. I didn't know if she was saying it to placate me or if she really meant it. That was my problem, I didn't trust her anymore. But, that said, it did sound like the truth. And, I do know she made it because she squirted.

"How about you, little man. Was it good for you?" she said.

I didn't answer her. Not right away at any rate. I had decided not say word one until I was untied. And, I really didn't like her little man comment. She wasn't insulting me exactly, but she was being-what-condescending.

"Not going to talk to me? Okay, well I tried. You can't say I didn't try," she said. She rolled off the bed and began to untie me. Free, I answered her.

"Yes, it was good. It was the best I've ever had from you," I said. She smiled.

"Well, thank you for that," she said. "And there is plenty more where that came from if you'd like to rethink your plans to move out on me." I nodded.

"Okay, you win. But, I do have a few concerns and questions," I said.

"Okay," she said.

One, where did you learn to punch like that, two where did you learn to suck cock like that, and finally whatever in the world gave you the idea to tie me up and do me like you did?" I said. She gave me a serious look.

"Missy," she said. "Her dad was a pro fighter, and she showed me a few things; said a girl needed to know how to take care of herself these days. As for tying you up and taking advantage of you, also Missy. She's done it to Randy, her husband. She said it was a hot way to get a guy into doing what his woman asked of him."

The elephant in the room was the clearly fact that she'd ignored my question about her cock sucking skills. "And the cocksucking?" I said, forcing the issue.

"Promise you won't go off on me or leave me?" she said.

"You saying it that way almost guarantees that I will," I said. "So, you going to answer me or not?" She sighed.

"Other men have taught me some things over the years, Robbie. None were ever a threat to you. You can believe that for sure. With you about to leave me, I had no choice, I had to give you my A-game. And, before you ask, no, Chester was not one of the men; though in truth I'd like to give him a shot at some point.

"So now you know the whole schmear. You going to leave me, or give me another chance?" I looked at her like she had two heads.

"You gonna continue doing other men?" I said. She gave me a questioning look before answering.

"Yes, she said. "And, if you want you can join me. I've long wanted to include you, but well… " My turn to be sending the looks.

"You want me to stay and be your cuckold, am I getting this right?" I said.

"Yes Rob, you are my cuckold, and you will remain one, and that's a good thing. Believe me. But, please don't think of yourself as some wimpy assed nothing; you will never be that to me. I just need a little on the side from time to time; maybe once every few weeks or so. And, in point of fact it's been almost three months since the last time," she said. Her look told she was getting it all out there hoping she could sell me on joining her or at least not dumping her: I made several times what she did on my job. I was shocked, but did I really want to leave without fighting for what was mine?

"I'll stay-for now. But we're not done talking, not even" I said. "Especially now that I know I've been your unsuspecting cuckold. That one I am not happy about, Amanda. Not happy at all, but we'll talk." She rushed me and kissed me and hugged me and made me feel good. Now, all I had to do was figure a way to rationalize living with a whore.

"Yes, and we will talk," she said pushing me back from her. "We are a team you and me, honey. You can't leave. I need you."

Yeah, she needed me, but for what, if she had all these lovers out there teaching her how to have fun. The clear answer to that question had to be my mid-six figure income.

******

The next few days were a malaise of mundane suburban life. We bought groceries. We went to the movies once. We did yard work and housework and watched inane TV shows. On the fourth night after our little-what-make up; she decided to lay it on me.

"Wanna go out tonight, big boy?" she said.

"Out? Where out?' I said.

"Dining, dancing, maybe pick up some guy?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"You know, an impromptu date. Have a little fun, sexual fun? Make you a knowing cuckold for the first time. Whaddya say?" she said this last kind of on the quiet. I just looked at her.

"Come on, Robbie. It's not like we didn't talk about it just a couple of days ago," she said. "You're a cuckold; that's not going to change, but you are a well-loved cuckold, and I want to include you in my fun. So, how about it?" I was becoming upset.

"Why would you want me around? Just somebody to laugh at?" I said.

"Heavens no. You're good in bed. You'd be adding a major dimension to the games," she said.

"And just how would I be doing that, having me take him up the ass?" I said. She smiled.

"Could be. Or, the two of you could take turns doing each other with me cheering you on. Or maybe it'd be me getting it in both ends: him fucking me and me sucking you off. You seemed to like what I did to you the other night," she said.

"I don't know…"

"Face it Robbie, you are my pussywhipped little man, or you would have kicked me out or left me the night of the party. I knew, was pretty sure, when I took advantage of you the other night, how you'd react. You'll do what I say because it will please me; I know it, and you know it. And, that said, I know that it is in my best interest to do what I can to make sure you are taken care of too. Sound good?" she said.

"It didn't sound good, but she had me. I was indeed her pussywhipped little man, and she was going to exploit it and there was precious little I could do about it, at least at the moment. But go out man hunting with her tonight? That, I was not into. Still…"

******

We were way early. Amanda wanted to get a few drinks into me before the games began, I suppose.

The Blossom was a bar catering mostly to the softer sex. It was run by Irene Compton, a feminist entrepreneur, and, some said, Christian Minister of all things-what church was anyone's guess.

The DJ was playing softer sounds for the dinner crowd. That figured to change once the crowd settled into a more social mode.

We'd finished eating and Amanda was already on the hunt. Not obviously so, but I could tell. Her eyes were nothing so much as a human appraisal mechanism. Then she stopped looking; she'd located her prey.

Christopher Amundsen was a tall man, muscular, reasonably handsome, and seemingly easy going. How to meet him? Well, that's the stuff of legend and myth: she spilled her drink all over his pants as she sashayed between the tables ostensibly to talk to a friend across the room.

She helped clean him up, plied him with a profuse string of high pressure apologies, and all but demanded that he dance with her. A half hour later he was walking her back to our table, and no I hadn't seen her except at a distance for the entire time.

"Chris, this is my husband Robbie," said Amanda by way of introducing us. He smiled at me, didn't quite crush my hand when we shook, and made with the usual polite pleasantries.

The two of them talked animatedly and candidly in front of me. His periodic glances in my direction were filled with questions. Chief among his verbalized queries was what was a short and unprepossessing man like me doing with Aphrodite for a wife?

And like I said, their conversation was candid.

"So, we'll be taking Chris home with us, Robbie, so he can fuck me. Okay?" she said. "You can be there too if you like. You can watch or join in, babe, your choice," she said.

"You okay with that, Rob," he said. "I'm not into busting up relationships. But if…"

"Yeah sure," I said. I wasn't, and my stomach was roiling. But, what else could I say. I knew what we'd come for, and Christopher Amundsen was it.

Back at the house, they'd disrobed and, naked, were feeling each other up on the couch. I'd been detailed to make the martinis for us all. Done, I was ready to serve them, but decided to wait just inside the kitchen's doorway and listen to what they were saying. I figured it might be interesting.

"I gotta ask, Amanda. I mean your hubby seems like an okay guy, but he's so short… " he said.

"He has other qualities that make him perfect for me," she said. I could almost see him waiting for an explanation. Well, hell, I wanted one too.

"Yes?" he said.

"He's a big ticket wage earner and he is totally pussywhipped. I can do whatever I want and he'll kiss my ass for allowing him to allow me. Well, I mean you're here aren't you. And, he's serving us and may even be going to watch you do me," she said. "I may ask you to let him be involved if he wants. You know take his sloppy seconds, or me give him a blow job to calm him down if he begins to feel a little left out. I screwed up a week ago and he damned near left me. I can't let that happen again. I need him to pay the bills among other things."

"Okay, kid gloves and mercy fucks in his future. That about it?" he said.

"Yeah, that's about it. But of course he can never know that's what they are. That would not be good,' said Amanda.

I came into view, but she was kissing him and didn't see me right away. I took the drinks in to them. Set them on the coffee table. They thanked me. I smiled and headed upstairs. My heart was broken and I no longer wanted to be anywhere near my personal whore.

Amanda saw me head upstairs, but I don't think she figured what I was about. They were pretty quiet while I was packing. Then I heard some conversation that seemed to be about me, but I couldn't quite hear. Packed, I headed for the guest room. I was lying on the bed, still fully clothed when a naked Amanda showed up at the door.

"You don't want to watch or get involved?" she said. Then she saw the suitcases.

"No, no, you go ahead and have your fun. I'm going to sleep in here tonight, but I'll be leaving in the morning," I said. "Don't let me disturb you."

"Robbie! What are you talking about?" she said. His largeness hadn't showed his face as yet. Figured it would be just a matter of time before he did though.

"Not into kid gloves and mercy fucks, Amanda. I mean I really am not," I said. She paled.

"Oh my God, you thought I meant those words," she said.

"Yep. That's what I thought. And, it's what I still think," I said.

"Robbie it's an act. One I will use again and again. Those-hemen-need to think themselves superior. It helps them do their duty better than they would if they were having to feel their way.

"I should have warned you, but I didn't think of it until just now when you nailed me. Please, I'm begging you," she said. I was listening to her, and weighing the possibility that she was telling the truth. And, thinking about it, it made sense.

She knew I was less than twenty feet away in the next room. She had no way of knowing when I might suddenly reappear or stick my head in to ask a question-one olive or two or the like-so she had to know I might hear her. Okay, I could have been, and probably was wrong. I nodded, thoughtfully.

"Okay, say I believe you. Whaddya we do now?" I said.

"Uh-get on with things, I guess," she said. I nodded again.

"Okay, but for now, I'm just going to stay in here. He may think me a wimpy-assed sissy, but I'm not, and I don't want to have to deal with the smirks," I said.

Just then his largeness filled the doorway behind her. "Mister Lundsford, if I may," he said. He'd startled me, but his tone of voice was the right one if he wanted me to be part of anything-it was-respectful.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't help overhearing the end of, well, your exchange with your wife here," he said. "I knew from the moment I met you that you were no sissy or wimp. And, I did think you were into the games, if that is indeed the right way to say it.

"But, if you care to know, I do believe that you're pussywhipped; you'd almost have to be. Your wife is half a foot taller than you, probably stronger than you physically, and certainly way out of your league beauty-wise and probably socially too, at any rate that's my opinion. That said…

"Just looking around, I can see you're a man of means. You probably have a high IQ. And, I expect that you are devoted to your woman, as I am certain she is devoted to you; in spite of the way things may look.

"Look, and don't take this wrong, but this sex thing is my area of expertise. Let me lead. You need to follow my lead. Your wife too should follow. It can be good; I mean really good, for all concerned. And you can trust me; I will not be putting you down or insulting you behind your back. I'm after a good time, and I know how to have one. Okay?" he said, finishing up his spiel.

I'd sat up and was sitting on the edge of the bed. "You make a strong case mister Amundsen. You do indeed. So okay," I said.

******

They marched me-though gently, I thought-into the master bedroom and sat me down on Amanda's vanity stool. There was something purely erotic about my naked wife and her naked bull of the evening marching me-I was still fully clothed-into the bedroom where I would become a willing cuckold for the first time.

"Honey just sit for now. After things get going a little bit, if you want to join in, just do it. Don't ask, don't wait for a good moment; just come over; we'll make room for you, and you can do whatever you want. Okay?" said Amanda.

"Yeah, sure, if I feel the need," I said. But, I'll probably just watch you guys tonight. If that's all right."

"Of course it's all right. You're calling the shots for yourself, absolutely," said Amanda. "Well you are except-well-I mean if you do decide to join us, please wait until after you've been cuckolded okay? It's kind of an initiation for you. Okay." The man just nodded and kinda muttered his agreement. He did seem okay with what she'd said. I guess that was good.

"Yeah sure. After I've been cuckolded. Right" I said. "It was embarrassing her telling me I was going to be cuckolded. Of course that was the whole idea, but it was still humiliating.

They made out for a while virtually ignoring me. He massaged her breasts for a long time while letting his hands wonder down her belly to her slit. She jerked each time he touched her there, but she didn't try to influence where his hands went.

He slid down her body and began licking her pussy and her inner thighs.

"Ready, girl?" he said.

"Uh-huh," she said. "Do me. Make my wimpy husband our cuckold," she said. She was looking right at me when she said it. I squirmed on my stool, but didn't say or do anything that mattered.

He aimed his tool expertly and slid in with but minimal difficulty. He'd evidently gotten her wet enough with his tongue. He push-pulled his cock in and out of her for a little bit until he had managed to embed his entire length inside of her, and it had to be a full ten inches for sure.

Amanda had a glazed look in her eyes as he drilled her relentlessly for what seemed an eternity. The reality was that her screwing lasted maybe fifteen minutes, three times my usual. Yet another example of how to humiliate a cuckold husband.

I watched as he shuddered, stiffened, and unloaded his semen inside of her. He rolled off of her and she rolled on top of him, spun around and took his cock into her mouth. God it was hot watching her suck him back to life.

For his part, her bull was staring right into her pussy. He scooped up a little from her and licked his fingers. He motioned me to come over. He scooped up another finger load and offered it to me. I knelt beside the bed and licked his finger clean. Well, it was a hot moment, and I was as hard as I had ever been. I went back to my observation post. Chris winked at me. I guess he was trying to be non-threatening. And, I suppose I appreciated his efforts.

She'd gotten him hard and spun around and off of him, positioning herself so that he could take her doggy. Her butt was high in the air and her legs were spread invitingly. He took her. She screamed her discomfort as he took no prisoners driving himself into her. He banged her relentlessly. This time he lasted at least as long as the first time and my wife was dribbling spittle all over the pillow that she was grasping desperately with her hands. I think she was actually in some significant discomfort, but the good, for her, kind.

Finally it was over. They rested for a bit; well, I supposed they did because they were quiet. For my part, I had gone down stairs and mixed myself a drink, actually three by the time they came downstairs: him dressed to leave, her in her robe.

He shook my hand tendered me a few pleasantries, and then he was gone.

Amanda motioned me to make her a drink. Well, I was sure she needed one.

We sat quietly sipping our drinks for a while, and then we went upstairs.

"You okay?" she said.

"Yeah sure," I said.

"We'll do the post mortem tomorrow, okay?" she said.

"Sure, no problem," I said.

"Uh, I should ask, you want to stay horny for morning, or do you need…?" she was obviously offering me some mercy. I declined.

"No, no, I can wait," I said, She looked at me hard, but didn't say anything.

We slept, I mean even me.

******

Okay score one for her team. It was a pretty good experience. I guess I was a willing cuckold, at least for the moment.

"Chris was nice wasn't he," said Amanda. We were eating pancakes. I still hadn't gotten any relief, but oddly, I was kinda turned off by her offer of the previous night. I mean, I shouldn't have been, but I was. And, she didn't make another offer. I thought that odd.

"Yes. Yes, he was. I had no big complaint. I felt a little strange watching you-I mean-well, I mean him fucking you. And his cock… " Amanda giggled.

"Yes, it was a big one wasn't it. I think it was the biggest one I've ever had!"

Her words made me uneasy. I wasn't sure, but I think she was developing, or, had already developed a thing for him, at least his almost foot long cock. One night-stands for fun and games were one thing, but something longer? No, that could not be allowed. I had to make that clear, and, get her to agree.

The problem was that I liked the guy too, and that was a problem. He'd been respectful and pleasant to us, never looking down on me or making any snide remarks. Trouble was, and that ironically, with that kind of behavior, he was a possible danger to me-to us. I had to make sure that Amanda knew and understood my misgivings; I mean if she decided she might want to bring him back for an encore.

"Amanda," I started, "he's an okay guy and therefore in some ways more dangerous to us than some asshole with a big dick. I'm afraid you'll-what-become attached to him, and I'll be cut out, or worse, kicked out. Please don't ask him back. If you do, I might as well pack up again and fade quietly into the night. I mean it," I said. "I can't compete with him; I know I can't," I said.

"Look, Robbie, I've been doing this stuff for a long time. I've had other big dicks. And, yes his is a big one. But, dick size is not the only thing that makes these encounters worth the doing," she said.

"Oh?" I said. "Pray tell what other qualities do you require from the guys that cuckold me?"

"Well, from now on, mainly that they have to make it nice for you too. Christopher fills that bill. No put downs, no smirks, no unseemly demands. He's into me, and you, and into having a good time for himself. He's not going to be whispering sweet nothings in my ear or asking me to leave you. He's not!" she said.

And just like that I knew we were in trouble already, and maybe already on our way to divorce court.

"Can I ask you to be honest with me for a moment, Amanda." She sighed, but she shrugged her okay.

"Okay, I guess," she said.

"If he did ask you to leave me and marry him, would you do it?" I said.

"That's a stupid question, and he's never going to do anything like that," she said.

"And, that dear wife does not answer my question. But, then again I guess it does. The answer is you would leave me," I said.

"No. I did not say that, I did not," she said. Now, I smirked.

"Yes, you did, just not with words," I said. She walked off in a huff, but I had my answers to my two questions. One, she would leave me for the guy if he asked; I was sure of that. And two, she had every intention of having him back whether I agreed or not. Both realities sealed my fate. I would be gone before the week was out. And this time, I'd not give her the opportunity to stop me. I could at least save a little face if not my heart by cutting country.

******

It was Friday, a week later. We'd not talked about Christopher or cuckolding or any of it during that period of time. I think she thought of it as giving me time to settle down and cool off. But, I wasn't cooling off. I got sicker at heart virtually by the hour. It was late Friday afternoon that she decided to pin me. I'd gotten off early, and she'd gotten off from Hammond's a tad earlier than usual too. Her look told me she thought that I was calmer now, and that maybe it was a good time to make her pitch.

"Robbie, we okay?" she said. I just looked at her and tendered her a wan smile. She took that to mean that we were okay.

"Robbie, I called Chris. He's coming over tomorrow night. We're going to cuckold you again, but afterwards you and I will be getting it on big time. And, I do mean big time. Okay?" she said. It was interesting that in the entire week since our last encounter, I hadn't even gotten so much as one sexy kiss; She apparently hadn't even noticed. But, now, she was saying, that if I was good tomorrow night I would be rewarded-her words-big time. I know she thought by throwing me that particular carrot that I would be okay with her plans, or if not exactly okay, at least accepting of my fate. She could not have had so much as an inkling of how wrong she was.

"Do you realize, Amanda, that I have not gotten so much as a kiss from you since he was here last week?" I said. I said it calmly, almost resignedly.

"What? Wha-? Robbie, I didn't-don't-really? Oh my God! Oh my. Well, I am going to be doubly good to you tomorrow. I promise to not ever neglect you like that again. Okay?"

"What about now?" I said. "I mean if you're good to go…"

"Uh-uh-sure. We could do it now if you need a little something to hold you till tomorrow," she said. "Let's go upstairs." Her smile was so forced that I was afraid her face would crack.

"Yeah, well, never mind. Your enthusiasm is almost scary," I said.

"Robbie-I didn't mean-anyway tomorrow is going to be very special for you. I promise." She was almost hyperventilating trying to be positive.

"Whatever, Amanda. Whatever," I said. "Just forget it." She decided to take a different tack.

"Robbie, quit that now. Stop being like that. Stop moping around. You love being my little cucky, and you know it. So, behave yourself and take what you can get, what I'm offering you. And, as for Chris being the bull of the moment, just deal with it. Okay?" I just walked off. I know she was maybe pissed at me or maybe herself, but I was also certain that I'd shaken her with my comments.

I left her the mandatory note.

"Amanda,

I love you more than anything, and I could maybe even have gotten my head around being your cuckold; but, I cannot deal with you not being honest with me. My leaving will save us both a ton of heartache; of that I am sure.

"I will send you a notarized power of attorney, so you can sell the house or do whatever you want with whatever you and I used to have together. Best to you and I hope that your future will be a happy one. I love you.

Your Robbie

*******

I still had my cell and it had been going off for the past day and a half, but of course I didn't answer it when I saw who it was. Then she adopted a different ploy; she used an unidentified land line. I answered it the first time, but as soon as I heard her voice, I destroyed the cell and ditched the fragments in a dumpster out back of an eatery I'd stopped at along my retreat from her and everything I had so long held dear.

I pulled into the Super-9 Motel's parking lot just as it was getting dark; and, if it matters, just as I was running out of steam physically. I couldn't drive another mile, not and survive.

Ten minutes later I was sacked out in my clothes on a very nice queen sized bed in a very quiet part of a very quiet town. The town? Some crossroads name of Mackville. The sign declared pop. 1,581. Oh, and it's in the state of Montana.

I wondered what was going through the mind of the woman five hundred miles southeast of me.

******

He knocked, and she answered.

"Oh, hello Chris," said Amanda.

"Hey girl, and hello to you too. You're not tryin to kill me with enthusiasm are you?" he said smiling. "I mean you were expecting me, you and Rob. Right?"

"Uh-no, no, truth is I forgot you were coming over. I've had a lot on my mind today," said Amanda.

"Okay, okay, something's wrong big time. Give," he said.

"Robbie left me. He felt threatened by you" she said.

"Me! I did my level best to not be threatening," he said.

"Yes, and ironically he appreciated that and actually likes-liked-you. The irony, in that? You were so nice he figured that you were the kind of guy that could take me away from him, and he just couldn't deal with that fear," she said. She caught his look.

"Chris?"

"I have to tell you, Amanda, he had it right. Well, I mean that I would very much love to have you to myself. I don't think you know just what a rare flower you are. Eventually, if you gave me any encouragement, I would have made a move on you. I wouldn't have made the first move. But if you did…"

"Oh shit!" she said.

"Chris you hardly know me. How can you say things like that?" she said.

"Amanda, I haven't had a ton of experience with women; I've had ten tons of it. I know you better than you know you. And, Rob too if it comes to that," he said.

"You and I are a perfect fit. You and Rob-not so much," he said. "I mean, he's an okay guy; hell, he's a good guy. But, nowhere near being in your league. Not even," he said. She stared at him.

"Huh?" she said.

"Amanda, if he's really left you, and if you have any sense at all; you'll divorce him for abandonment and marry me at the earliest opportunity. I mean it. Hell, I might as well make it official now," he said.

He dropped down on his knees. "Amanda, will you marry me after your divorce?" he said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Not rocket science, babe," he said.

"Okay, yes," she said.

It was a moment of clarity for Amanda Lundsford. Her husband had had it right. What bothered her was the undeniable fact that she hadn't even cried that her husband had abandoned her. She did feel a little remorse and a little sadness about the whole mess, but no more than that. She did wonder how he was doing.

******

During the week before my departure, I had taken care of all of the mandatory pre-running away stuff. I cleaned out my retirement fund basically my personal investments, my annual leave, and half of our savings, some $250,000 in all; well, we had been living kinda high on the hog. I'd sequester the largest part of my stash for some so far undefined future goal, and forget about it until the need arose to remember it.

I left the checking account and the rest of the savings untouched. She'd be okay; her part was something more than $90,000, mostly in certs of deposits. Apart from those, she had her car, I had mine. She'd also be getting the house. Yes, she'd be okay. Everything else I'd packed amounted to just my personal things. I was actually traveling light.

She didn't know where I was, but that didn't mean that she couldn't get hold of me. About a week after my leaving I got the email.

Robbie,

I guess I blew it huh. Well it is what it is, I guess. Since you have decided that we are at an end, I am not going to fight it. I've seen an attorney. Attached is a divorce proposal. I hope it's okay. If you could see your way clear to include some alimony, even a little, I'd appreciate it. But, since you obviously don't have a job anymore maybe the point is moot. I would like the house though, as you promised in your note to me.

Hope you're okay.

Love,

Amanda

Short and sweet, that's my Amanda, I thought. The next day, after having received it, I drove two hundred miles farther on in order to take care of the necessary things. I didn't want her to know where I was staying, and Billings was far enough away to pretty much ensure that she wouldn't.

I arrived in Billings at noon. Got a bite to eat, and asked the waitress if she knew where I could find a law office.

Carl Merry, attorney at law, and yes that's a real name, was at least seventy. The power of attorney was pretty much pro forma. The emailed divorce proposal she'd sent me was a shock, but then again, it wasn't. I didn't know if Chris was a part of the action, but I was of the opinion that he likely was.

She didn't ask for anything, but the house. Well, she did ask about alimony, but didn't demand it. I sent off my reply, well, mister Merry did. It would be several years, eight actually, before I would be hearing from Amanda again, and then it was kind of a quirk of fate.

******

The We Smalls was a bar and grill that stayed open twenty-four hours, seven days a week including all holidays. Hal Marquist, the owner believed that his type of business had to be open when customers wanted it to be open. Booze was only available from noon to 2:00AM, but anything else could be gotten any time. He hired me on the spot as a bookkeeper and part time bartender. The money was paltry compared to what I was used to, but I only had me to worry about so it didn't really matter.

I was able to afford a small wood-frame by the end of my second year. Most of the money from my retirement fund was sequestered and would stay that way. But, what I'd been able to save allowed me to purchase the house without an unduly large mortgage. It was only two bedroom and single car garage, but that was okay by me. Like I said it was only me to worry about.

Did I think about Amanda? No, not really, no more than every minute of every day. But, I knew I would have gotten the axe if I'd stayed, so leaving at least allowed me to save myself from that particular humiliation. The heartache? Not so much.

My social life, if it could be so described, consisted of hanging out at the bar, The We Smalls, and occasionally dancing with this or that lady on Saturday nights. The DJ, a local kid, played dance music on Friday and Saturday nights, but Friday night was one of the three nights a week I put in time behind the bar. The other two days were Sunday and Monday.

The divorce had become final some few months after I had signed and returned her proposal to her-with the marked changes. No, she didn't get any alimony from me. And she didn't complain about it either, well, not to me.

"Hi Steph," I said as she sidled up to me.

"How yuh doin' tonight, Robbie," she said.

"Okay, just hangin' out," I said. She nodded

"Me too. Travis dumped me. Actually told me I was too old for him. I'm four years older than he is for Chryssakes! He's fourteen years older than the chickee he ditched me for. I hope his cock rots off," she said. I snickered.

"This makes what-the third time he's dumped on you. You'd think you'd have gotten the message by now. He's just using you, girl. You should forget him and get on with things, on with your life," I said.

"Look at me, Robbie. I'm forty-five. I'm too short at four-eleven. I'm chunky if not actually fat. My hair is frowsy. My clothes, the ones I'm wearing tonight, I actually bought at the Goodwill Thrift Store. What man would want a girl like me? No I have to grin and bear it and hope that sooner or later Travis will get his head on straight and realize that I'm the one who actually loves him, not the teenyboppers he keeps trying to impress with his sports car," said Stephanie Ann Rutledge: dental assistant at Marrs Dental, and sweetness personified.

"Well, since you're into comparisons tonight, what about me? I'm taller than you, but you're about the only woman in town that I can say that about. And, hell, I'm so skinny what woman would want me?" I said.

"I see you in here, Rob. You always have a girl on your arm," she said. "And, you're a heckuva dancer."

"Yeah, I can dance, and I can get first and second dates. But after one or two it's over between whoever it is and me," I said.

"Huh? Why?" she said.

"Your turn to look at me. I'm taller than you, but, again, you're about the only female in town I can say that about," I said. "And, then there is the matter of my love making skills, since we're getting it all out there; I ain't much in that department, I'm afraid." Her turn to snicker.

"You gotta date for tonight?" she said.

"No, just chillin' I think is how they say it these days," I said.

"You horny?" she said.

"You have no-wait a minute. You offerin'?" I said. She smiled, took my hand, and led me outside.

"Where's your car?" she said.

"Over there," I said, pointing.

"Let's go. I need it. You need it. No skills or not, we'll just make do," she said. "Just let momma take the lead okay?"

"You got it woman. You do indeed," I said.

Her apartment was small, sparsely furnished, and spotless. I knew then, or thought I knew, that here was a woman whose assets were not limited to being just skin deep. And, I was about to discover just how right my impression was.

She went immediately into the kitchen leaving me to my own devices in the miniature front room. A room with a two-seater couch or love seat, a straight backed chair, and a non-descript coffee table that could have been made of redwood, but had clearly been lacquered more than once.

Returning, she handed me a glass of wine in a plastic stem glass; the kind sometimes seen at parties and other such events.

"Just dago-red, I'm afraid," she said. "The fancy stuff will have to wait until I marry me a millionaire." She laughed at her own self-deprecation.

"No problem, Steph, it's my kind of grape juice," I said. It wasn't that bad either. We'd had three glasses before she grew impatient with me.

"Whatsamatter, sailor, not interested in screwing me?" she said. And yes, I'd been dallying.

"No, no, nothing like that. It's just… " I started.

"You're not worried I'll laugh at your cock or skills are you?" she said. My silence confirmed her suspicions. She came to me.

She kissed me, gently, sexily. She let her hand slide down to my cock and felt its hardness through the fabric of jeans.

"Not bad, not threatening for sure, but it is clearly more than ready to do me," she said. She slid to her knees and began unbuttoning my pants. She pulled them down and eye'd the bulge in my underpants.

I swallowed hard. I was feeling very nervous. I'd still not gotten over what my wife had done to me years before, eight years now, I realized. What would this waif of a woman have to say when she saw it; I wasn't that small, but nothing extra either. Oh, I knew I was going to be fucking her. But, would it lead to a second date down the road? Would tonight be nothing but a variety of mercy fuck? Any more rejections and I would pretty much be done with my reserves of self-esteem.

My underpants were next. She stared at all six not-really-fat inches of my sex engine. "Hmm, not that bad. And at least you won't hurt me when you take my butt," she said. I looked her askance. Amanda had never let me do that.

I pulled back from her and completed undressing myself; she did the same. We were naked in less than a full minute, I was sure.

She led me to the couch, kissed me, knelt on it, and looked back at me.

"Take me from behind first. I love it doggy." Then she spread her knees wide enough for me to get a good look at her pussy and her anus. God she was woman, I mean woman! I thought.

"I knelt behind her and licked her up and down her pussy and her crack. She actually tasted sweet to me. I stood and pushed into her. She grunted; well, I do have kind of a fat cock if not an extra long one.

"I seesawed in and out of her slowly enjoying my first real fuck in a long time, in over a year and a half actually. Since my divorce I'd been laid but three times; this was the fourth. She said she needed it bad; but, I was pretty damn sure I needed it more than she did.

I came pretty quick the first time. But then, after a little panting and resting, I hit my stride. I took her missionary and then I got her butt. She'd sucked me hard for each go 'round. I could get used to a steady diet of this, I thought.

******

You seem pensive today," said Christopher.

"No, no, I just can't keep from recalling the old days, and how he and I got on. How we never had to worry about paying the bills. I hope he's all right. Probably rich by now while you and I are just getting by," said Amanda. He gave her a you-should-appreciate-me-more stare

"Why do you keep worrying over him? Because he was a hot shot salesman when he was here? He lives in freakin' Montana for chryssakes. He's just another guy, Mandy. And we're doing fine," said Christopher. "He's probably bagging grocery at some ma and pa operation." She snickered.

"Yeah maybe-or-maybe not," she said. "I just wish I could've talked to him. I do feel so guilty about how I treated him."

"It was his fantasy, girl. He just couldn't live with the fallout. I never would've made a move on you if he were still around. But, he left; he cut country leaving you high and dry. Frankly, the man owes you an abject apology," said Christopher.

"Haruumph! Uh-huh, and of course it took me so long to dump his memory in the trash heap of sexual ne'er do wells and take up with you. Yeah, I was a paragon of steadfast love," she said, about as sarcastically as she'd ever said anything.

"You need what I can give you. He just didn't have it. And you were and are so far out of his league. He's a foot shorter than you for chryssakes. Hell, if you had to fight a man like him physically, you'd win! Me, on the other hand, could whip your glassy ass any day of the week," he said, smiling.

"Yeah right," she snickered, "because you're such a macho man."

"Whatever," he said.

"I-I-I want to find him and talk to him," she said. "I need him back. You need to help me."

"We don't know where he lives," he said.

"No, but we know where his lawyer does his thing: Billings, Montana," she said. He scowled.

"Yeah right, like we're going to be searching the hamlets of hill country for this guy. And what do we do about our jobs?" he said.

"We can take leave. I've got a busload coming. And I know your boss at the toy factory will let you off for a couple of weeks," she said. He shook his head.

"It's a fool's errand. The man dumped you, not you him. He wants it this way," said Christopher.

******

My night with Stephanie had been an eye opener for me. Her pussy had been so tight. Her low pitched screams as she orgasmed, her devilish look as she took my load of cream, and told me I'd have to eat it out of her: all of it bespoke the reality that I could please women, at least some women. All in all she was a turn on like I'd never experienced before, not even with Amanda in our salad days. Then it was the next day, and a typhoon of shit hit the fan.

Travis moved in to reclaim his woman for the fourth consecutive time essentially cutting me out of the equation. Stephanie was nice about it, when she broke the news to me, she told me how wonderful a lover I was, but how she just had to be with "her" man. I wished her well, and told her to give me a call if she ever needed me again. She smiled and promised to do just that. Then, I went back to my cruisin' ways.

And then the two of them walked in, while I was seated at the bar, and greeted me all smiley and full of grace.

"Hi, Robbie," said Amanda.

"Hello, Rob," said Christopher.

"What the fuck," I said. "What are you two doing here? Waited this long to rub it in have you?" I said.

"Robbie… " started Amanda.

"Amanda, I left to make it easier on you to get rid of me. I knew it was coming, and him being here with you proves that particular pudding does it not?" I said. "I don't know how you found me, but I'd appreciate it if the two of you would saddle up and ride; get the hell back wherever you came from. I've got a new life here, and I really don't need to be reminded how you destroyed me eight years ago. I really don't." I was not being nice.

"Robbie, please. Five minutes. Then, well, if you really want me to leave, I will. Okay?" she said. I saw Stephanie come in. She eye'd me quizzically, but kept her distance.

"Five minutes? And you'll leave me alone forevermore?" I said.

"Yes, if that's the way you want it," she said.

"Okay, start talking," I said. I was still seated at the bar, and was making no move to get a table or cooperate in any manner whatsoever.

"Could we… " she said, glancing around for a more-I supposed-private venue. "Could we move over there?" Two minutes later we were seated around a table for four near the back.

I sat back waiting, wondering what she could possible want to tell me. I had to think that she was wanting to rub my nose in it-as unlikely as that would seem-otherwise why would she had brought Tanto along to ride shotgun.

"Robbie, I guess I should start, okay? I mean since I've only got five minutes," she said. I spread my hands indicating a get-on-with-it gesture.

"Robbie when you left I was adrift. I had no one. Chris here filled that void, or I would have had no one to turn to," she said.

"Fill the void? The void you say. Could you be a little more explicit as to which void you're referring to?" I said.

"Robbie!" she half screamed, frustrated.

"If you'll recall, Amanda, I predicted as much. That, whether I were there or not."

"No, no it wasn't like that… " she said.

"Yes, it was. I begged you not to invite him back. But, my begging fell on deaf ears; that ended us. I needed you there for me, but you were only there for you, Amanda-and, maybe him," I said.

"I was there for you, Robbie. I needed you," she said.

"Yeah, to pay the bills. Tell me how's it going with you two. Making a killing in the market?" I said. "Got good jobs?"

She looked down. "It's been kinda tough, but we're getting by, I guess you could say," she said. I didn't snicker; I wanted to, but I didn't.

"Okay, get to it, Amanda. Why are you here? You come to get me to give you money? Help you pay your way?" I said.

"Rob," butted in Tanto, "that's not why we're here. She's here, we're here, for two reasons. One, to see if you were okay. We've long been worried about you, and I do mean the both of us. And, two, to apologize to you for me being or appearing to be a threat to you; though I swear if you'd stayed, I never would have gotten into your personal-married-life. I would have studiously made the effort to be outside of you two. But, that said, once you left; well, I saw the coast as clear, and Amanda available. She was good enough to say okay, and so yes we, well, we sorta got together."

"Really?" I said.

"Robbie, yes and no," said Amanda. "Chris is partly right. I-at least I-am indeed here to apologize. And, we were both worried about you. But, there is more, and this one is on me, not Chris," she said.

"Robbie, I would have eventually left you for Chris. Maybe he wouldn't have made a move on me, and I believe him when he says so. But…"

"But, you would have made a move on him, right," I said. She didn't bat an eye.

"Yes," she said. I nodded. "Eventually, I would've dumped you."

"Okay, then, your mission's over. You've apologized. You see I'm fine. Now you can leave," I said.

It was as though it only happened the day before not eight years before. I was once again sick to my stomach. I just wanted them to leave. I guess I had gone pensive.

"Robbie?" she said. I looked over to her.

"What?" I said.

"You okay," she said. "I wanted to be on the up and up with you-finally. You'd know if I lied. This might be the last time I see you, and I didn't want to leave with a lie separating us." I nodded.

"Goodbye, Amanda. Good luck." I said. I rose to go.

"Rob?" said Christopher Amundsen.

"What?" I said.

What Amanda said was the truth, but we also had kind of a side agenda. Kind of an offer," he said.

"Amanda?" I said, looking from the big man over to her.

"Robbie, we-Chris and I-would be honored, thrilled really-if you would well, join us," she said.

"Join you? What are you talking about?" I said.

"You know… " she started.

"In bed, Rob. In bed," interrupted Chris. I know my mouth was hanging open a yard.

"Huh? What? Huh? You mean have sex with the two of you?" I said.

"There'd be no shame in it. No put downs; I think you know that," she said.

"I have no words," I said, about as sarcastically as I ever said anything. "You're saying…"

"Robbie, we've done our homework. I hope you won't be mad or take this wrong, but we checked things out rather thoroughly; we didn't just show up here," said Amanda.

"Checked things out?" I said.

"Robbie, we know you don't have a girlfriend, haven't had, since, well, since you came here. If you've had any sex, it's been rare; we understand; it's harder for a guy. I-we-want to fix that. I mean anytime you want or feel the need. We'd be thrilled. Really," she said. I started to choke on my own bile.

"Get the fuck outta here. Get out," I said. I stood. All five-foot-four of me was ready to take on King Kong and her too if it came to that. I was that humiliated.

"Robbie, damn it, don't be like that. Don't let your insufferable male ego get in the way of taking care of your needs-hell, my needs too. It could be good for you. You know it and I know it," she said.

"Rob, you wouldn't be our cuckold anymore, in fact, I'd be your cuckold. You oughta think about it. It's a bona fide offer, no expiration date," said Chris, rejoining the conversation.

He'd monetarily stopped me. Him my cucky? It was a tantalizing thought. The difference is that as my cuckold, he would still be in control of the situation, and I'd still be sucking hind tittie, and cut it anyway you'd want he stole my wife. No, it wouldn't work-horny as hell though I was.

"Just go both of you, okay. And it's not about my male ego, Amanda; it's all about my utter and near desperate humiliation-again. It's more than I can bear, more than any man could bear," I said.

"Okay for now, Robbie. We'll go. But we'll be here for one more day. And we're coming back here tomorrow night to dance. Maybe you could at least see your way clear to dance with me once or twice. We used to cut quite a rug as I recall," she said. And then they were gone, and I was left with my thoughts.

They were gone no more than a minute before Stephanie joined me at the table. Travis was sidled up against the bar, talking to the barkeep.

"That was her wasn't it?" she said. I nodded.

"Yes. And him too," I said.

"She's tall, and him-beefcake for sure. I hate to say it, but if we're going by appearances alone; he's gonna come away with the prize," said Steph. I snickered.

"Yeah, I know. I knew it eight years ago, and left before he claimed his-prize. It was humiliating enough knowing it was bound to happen," I said. Her turn to nod.

"But, and well, looks are not everything. Maybe when one is a teenager, but not when we become serious adults," she said.

"Yeah maybe," I said.

"So what did they want?" she said. "Why were they here?"

"They want me to join them in bed," I said. "She claims she needs me?"

"Can't be money, you're mister average for damn sure," said Stephanie. I gave her a look that belied my thoughts.

"I guess they'll be going back to wherever they came from. I saw how you all but threw them out, their size notwithstanding," she said.

"Yeah, maybe, but not yet. Said they were coming back tomorrow night," I said.

"Hmm, really," said Stephanie. "That'll be interesting."

******

It was Saturday night and I was sitting at a table for four with Stephanie and Travis. And, yes, we'd been discussing whether or not the two interlopers of the night before might or might not show. Did I care if they did? I wasn't sure.

"They just walked in," said Travis. He flashed me a smile. "Decision time."

"Yeah, right," I said, as I tilted back my brew.

They'd seen us. I got a wave from the each of them. I nodded.

I danced a couple of times with Stephanie, and my ex danced a couple of times with the man who had made me his cuckold. I kept getting looks.

The DJ took a break. I split momentarily from Stephanie and headed for the bar. Imagine my surprise when I found her sitting in my seat upon my return from ordering the drinks. I stared at her.

"Got a minute cowboy?" she said. Her smile was wide. I continued to stare.

"Yeah, maybe one," I said. My voice was flat.

Stephanie signaled her beau to take her on a tour of the other tables and some of their many friends thereat ensconced.

"That was nice of your friends," said Amanda.

"They're nice people," I said. She nodded.

"Any chance of getting you to ask me to dance, Robbie? For old time's sake?" she said.

"I'm not going to be playing second fiddle to your new husband under any circumstances, Amanda. Not before, not now, not ever. I don't know how to make it any clearer than that," I said.

"My husband? Chris and I aren't married," she said. "Did I say we were married?"

"Well…"

"Robbie, there will never be a husband for me again, unless you want to apply for the job-again. In truth, I did consider Chris, and he did ask me; but, I knew it would never work. Not in the long run. The sex? Primo. He's not just better than you at sex, Robbie, he's better than any man I ever met. And, on some level I love the guy. No, that's not right. I appreciate him.

"I appreciate him because he never put you down, never tried to make me forget you, never pressured me. I appreciated that about him. And, when your income suddenly disappeared; he was there for me. Now we live together, fuck a lot, and share expenses. I think the term is roommates with benefits. He's content; I'm resigned and usually satisfied in obvious ways; but there is always the elephant in the room, you; and no, that is not a slap at you being so short.

"Do you know, we have separate rooms? When we fuck we sometimes overnight in one or the other's rooms, but otherwise we give each other space," she said.

She'd not surprised me; she'd shocked me. I wasn't exactly speechless, but I was more than slow to react.

"I see I've surprised you," she said.

"Yes," I said. "You have." I finally woke up and realized that he wasn't with her-at the moment that is. "Where is your man?" Her eyes travelled over in the direction of the bar. I nodded.

"So what do you want, Amanda? I mean from me?" I said.

"Short run or long run?" she said.

"Say the short run," I said.

"A dance or two, like I said last night," she said.

"Okay," I said. I could see the DJ returning. He'd be doing his thing in short order. I offered her my hand; she took it; and she led me out on the dance floor. The first dance was a slow number, and she pressed herself against me discovering in the process-no doubt-that I had a potato in my pants pocket: a large white rose potato.

"That for me, sailor," she said, smirking. I looked up into her eyes, and I posed the next question.

"And, in the long run?" I said.

"If I could get it the way I want it?" she countered.

"Yes, okay, for now," I said.

"Have you back as my husband. Like before everything… " she said.

"And what about the Christophers of the world," I said. She sighed.

"I need them, but I can do without them if I have to in order to get what I really want and need.

"Robbie, we'll be leaving tomorrow. Any chance that tonight…?" she said.

"Too soon. But, that said, you did give me something to think about? Maybe," I said. "Leave me your number. Okay?" I said.

"Okay," she said.

We danced several more times, and then the big man claimed his prize and they were gone. I thought about that. They weren't married, she'd said. Of course I believed her. But, it was clear married or not; he was a helluva lot more to her than a roommate with benefits. Well, or so it seemed to me.

******

She had left me her number. Would I call her? I wanted to and I didn't want to; talk about catch 22s. But a month later-I did.

She answered the door. "Welcome, handsome," said Amanda. "It is so good to see you. I must admit I was concerned that you might not come. I mean even after your call." She spoke all of this while leading me back into the house that used to be ours. She'd not sold it, as I had thought she might. That surprised me.

"Thank you, Amanda. I almost didn't, but…"

"But, you did, Robbie, and I thank you for doing so," she said. I nodded. It was a noncommittal nod.

"Robbie, are we okay?" she said. "Me and Chris, we're just friends. And, I'd like to assure you that he wants to be your friend too. Okay?"

"Okay? Am I okay? Relative to what? I'm here to maybe get a piece of primo ass that I should never have been denied in the first place. And yes I know you never actually said I would be denied. But, what you did say, was that you would have eventually left me for him. Kind of a killer of the old hopes, dreams, self-esteem if you know what I mean," I said. She nodded.

"And, yes, I am horny enough to eat my pride and take what I can get," I said.

"I guess that's so what you said about me eventually leaving you for Chris. But, right now, for what it's worth, you will get my ass. And, I mean immediately and without Chris being here," she said. "I want to give it to you. I need you, Robbie. I really really need you, and not for your income either. And-later we'll talk about the other stuff. Okay?"

"Okay, that's good," I said. "I mean you not caring about my money making prowess because I work for peanuts now. I'm not into the markets anymore. So, you might have your chance to prove what you just said." She gave me a look.

"Okay then, let's do it," she said, finally. She stood and extended her hand. She led me up the stairs to our room, our old room.

She sat me on the bed and began to undress. Jesus she was a stunner, even at her now age of forty-four. Tits were primo, ass was matchless, bare pubes enslaving, hair, smell, figure: the woman had no physical downsides; Helen of Troy launched a thousand ships; Amanda Lundsford could've launched the entire American high seas battle fleet.

I swallowed as she came to me and undressed me. God! It was sensuous. My dick poked her in the belly and she played at screaming her fear at the length and girth of my sex engine would be too much. I played at assuring her how gentle I intended to be. It was a good moment.

I knelt in front of her and licked her secret places. Urging her with my hands to turn around, I spread her ass cheeks and licked and sucked and adored her nether places. She turned and pushed me away.

She mounted the bed and pushed her butt high into the air inviting me to take her doggy. I did. Boy did I and gentle never entered into it. I rammed her for all I was worth. Several minutes later, she grunted, squirted, and came big time. I was ten seconds behind her. I actually felt proud of myself: I hadn't left her hanging.

I rolled off to the side of her as she collapsed onto her belly. Neither of us said word one for some little time. She broke the verbal impasse.

"What happened to the gentleness part?" she said. I snickered.

"I was kidding about that one," I said.

"Hmm, I guess you were," she said. We cuddled and slept for a little bit. I awoke to noises in the bathroom. She was on the cell.

"No, not tonight," I heard her say; figured it had to be his largeness. "Tonight's for him, but you can come to dinner. And do call me tomorrow; we should know more by then. Okay, yeah, that'd be good. Bye," she said.

She came out of the bathroom, and passed me; I faked being out of it. She headed downstairs.

I lay awake thinking. The sex was the best. A whole night of it would be indescribably fantastic. But, was it in me to share her with another man? It hadn't been till now, not another full time man at any rate. Her coming to me five hundred miles away and talking me into having her was a major shock, and, one might add, temptation, a temptation that I had all too easily succumbed to. She was irresistible. I had a decision to make.

******

I decided that I had to know where I really stood with her relative to his largeness. I decided to bug her; well, her purse that is. I had my mini recorder. It was old, but still in good condition. I'd used it before primarily for notes to myself about investments and business matters; I found that better than carrying around notebooks and pens. No one else's voice had ever been on it except mine; that would now change.

"Rob, I will be going out for a little while. Would that be all right? I mean to leave you to your own devices for a couple of hours?" she said.

"Sure, no problem," I said.

"Okay, good, I need to get my hair done. It's been a while," she said. I didn't know what she was talking about; her hair looked great. But, I was pretty sure that if she did get her hair done she'd also be catching up with mister Amundsen too. Regardless, the mini recorder buried deep in her knapsack sized purse would very likely be delivering the truth of the matter in any event.

It was three and a half hours before she finally pulled into the driveway. I didn't care. It was okay. I wondered if she'd make any apologies for her tardiness. I planned to be more than magnanimous if she did. I just wanted to get my recorder out of her purse. I had my fingers crossed.

She caught me sipping coffee and listening to a football game on the radio. And, yes, some of us actually like listening to the radio. State was winning, so I was happy. She caught me smiling and I could see her face relax.

"Listening to the game?" she said.

"Yep, and state just scored. We're up by three," I said. "You hair looks nice." She evidently had gone to the salon. Wheresoever else I hoped to soon know.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "Uh-I talked to Chris a little bit ago too," she said. That's partly why I'm late."

She'd more or less surprised me. "No, problem," I said. "How is the big guy?"

She smiled at my friendly tone. "Fine. He's fine. I asked him to come over tonight for dinner. I mean he has been living here for a long time. I mean if it's all right with you," she said. She'd not surprised me. And, truth told I wasn't concerned about him coming over-yet. After I heard what they'd said about me, that might change, I knew. But for the moment magnanimity was the order of the day.

I decided to test the waters a little. "Am I going to be in the way? I mean you know?" I said. She actually looked shocked.

"My God of course not! Absolutely not. I don't want you to ever leave. It's just, well, he is kind of part of us if that's the way to say it. Now, I didn't smile. I didn't frown either. I just shrugged.

She put on a questioning expression but asked no questions. I was pretty sure she knew all of the answers to anything she might have wanted to ask me, so silence was her modus operandi. "Anyway, dinner will be at 6:00," she said. I nodded.

"I'm going to take a shower if that's all right," she said. "I won't be long. Okay?"

"Of course it's all right. Do what you've got to do. I'll be fine," I said. She came to me, hugged me, turned, headed upstairs and left me to my own devices.

Amanda was nothing if not a creature of habit. She dumped her purse where she always had, on the credenza in the dinette. As soon as she disappeared into the upstairs bedroom, I retrieved my recorder.

I knew she'd be at least half an hour getting herself sorted out. I grabbed one of her lover's beers from the frig and headed out to the patio. She'd have to come downstairs to see me, and I'd see her coming before she could make it outside.

I had my radio with me and had the game on. My recorder was in my pocket and my earplugs were feeding me the recording I hoped would let me know more than I currently did about where I actually stood with her.

I got lucky, she went to see him before she went to the salon: their conversation was at the beginning of the recording.

******

"Missed you last night," he said, in his most engaging tone of voice.

"I know, me too," she said. "But, he's going to be skittish for a while. You being there last night, and even tonight for the sex thing, and him comparing himself to you-well-it just wouldn't work, Chris. If I'm going to get him back, and then convince him to go get his job back; well, I have to cater to his needs as opposed to ours, yours and mine, first."

"Yeah, I guess. How was he last night?" he said.

"Better than he used to be. But, he was so horny that I think he was making a strenuous effort to not screw up," she said. "I don't think he's been getting any or very much, at any rate. If I'm any judge, he's actually desperate sex-wise; I mean really."

"Yeah, I can bet he is," he said. "You know, I've been thinking these past few weeks."

"Yes," she said.

"Well, I know you stayed with the guy because of his money making skills. But, I have to ask what was the original attraction of the guy? I mean you married him before he was making the big bucks. There had to be some other reason at the time," he said. She smirked.

"You really don't have a whole lot of respect for the intelligence of women, or at least me, do you, Chris?" she said.

"Of course I do, but you couldn't have predicted the kind of success he was going to be, economically, I mean when you first married him," he said.

"Oh, you are so wrong. I did predict it. And, I did my level best to support him and encourage him to work hard and to make it big. And he did. True he exceeded my expectations, and his too I'm pretty sure. But, I was more than certain that Rob Lundsford was going to be the cat's meow in the income department right from the git-go. Oh yeah. He just had that air about him. In school he let nothing get in the way of his being the best at everything he tried," she said.

"Except sex," he said, smiling.

"Hmm, even there he wasn't the worst that's ever fucked me. He was okay, just not exciting. And he needs sex; I'm sure of that; he just doesn't think that mastering it is all that important. More's the pity."

"You couldn't have taught him some stuff," he said.

"I did. But, in the end his cock is so average, and he is so goddamn short. I'm actually embarrassed to be seen with him socially; of course I can never let him know that; and, as for that, I've almost made that mistake on a few occasions; it makes me shiver to even think about it. Anyway, sexually and socially he's not of much use. Well, except as a dancer. He's better than you at that. Better than most actually; socially it's his one saving grace," she said.

"So, what's the plan? How do we get him onboard?" he said. She sighed.

"Initially, I let him fuck me raw, drain himself. After that we handle him like a very expensive thoroughbred. Lots of love, attention, good food, and absolutely never let him think he's second in line. If we can do those, I'm pretty sure I can put a collar and leash on him, and get him to do what I want. But, it's going to be a very delicate operation at least in the beginning.

"And, me?" he said.

"Let me put it this way. He can pull down half a mother-in-law annual if he's motivated. I make 31K annual, you what, twenty-five at the factory?" she said.

"Twenty-eight," he said. His tone was almost morose.

"Yeah, well between us we make, what, one tenth what he can? It's a no brainer. You can stay at the house, Chris, in fact that's part of the strategy; but he's gonna be the focus for some time to come. Either that, or we can just continue to do our fine dining at Macdonald's and Der Wiener Schnitzel," she said. "I do like the kraut dogs." She wasn't quite being sarcastic.

"Well, okay, you're the boss. So what time do I show up tonight," he said.

I saw her coming down the stairs and put my mini away. I'd heard enough anyway.

******

Time is the one thing over which no one has any significant control. We flatter ourselves, we homo sapiens, that while we may not have the answer as to how time passes more slowly on some days than others, we someday will. Regardless, this day had passed infinitely more slowly than yesterday. And my impatience to get the mandatory final meeting with my betrayer over with was driving me nuts.

The above said, time did pass, and six o'clock did finally make its appearance on the kitchen wall clock. I heard the knock at the front door. She went to answer it. It seemed strange to me that the man who had taken my place, and had lived in the house for the past several years, should have felt the need to knock. But he did, and that was that. He likely wouldn't be tomorrow.

"Hello, Chris," I heard her say; I think for my benefit. "Go on into the kitchen. Robbie's in there. Pour yourself a glass of wine. I'll be in in a minute."

"Hi, Rob," he said. I smiled and raised my hand in greeting. "How's it going? Everything gonna be okay?"

"Hmm, yes, I think so. Yes indeed actually," I said.

"Okay you two, ready to eat," said Amanda prancing into the kitchen. She'd changed from her jeans and t-shirt into a short, and very pretty sundress. Too bad, I thought, it was probably the last time I'd see her look so pretty, or, at all.

"Actually, no," I said. "But you two can go ahead and eat."

"Huh? Is something wrong, Robbie?" she said.

"I guess it depends on how you look at things," I said. "But, to avoid belaboring the issue, I've made the decision to leave. I'll be leaving in a few minutes."

"But-but-but… " stuttered Amanda. "But, we want you to stay! Really!" she said, and that more than forcefully. "Don't we Chris?" He nodded obediently.

"And, why would that be if you feel embarrassed just to be around me in public, Amanda? And that especially since I am all but useless both sexually and socially. And, frankly, I have no desire to be treated like an expensive thoroughbred. And as for having you put a collar and leash on me; well, that ain't happening," I said.

"Oh shit," said Chris, kinda quietly. "You heard us somehow. A recorder maybe?" I just shrugged.

"Robbie… " she started.

"Forget it, Amanda. You just got done burning the lottery ticket, and you can't get a duplicate," I said.

"For the record I will love you for the rest of my life. And, what is equally true, is that I never want to see or hear from you again; or, him either," I said, nodding in the direction of my replacement.

I rose and headed upstairs to get my stuff. They were waiting for me when I came down.

"Robbie, we can get by this. I know we can," she said,

"No, no, not this time. Goodbye to the both of you," I said. She was crying. Well, she had lost her winning lottery ticket.

******

Mackville had the virtue of being the residence of the dumbest jackass in the world, Travis Danson. He'd dumped her again, so my friend the barkeep at the We Smalls assured me.

"You're kidding me, Hal," I said.

"She was in here not an hour ago bemoaning his latest rejection of her not inconsiderable charms," he said. "I think she was hoping you might have been back earlier than you maybe planned." I looked him askance.

"You could have that little piece of fluff if you wanted," he said.

"Huh?" I said.

"I know you've done her. Before exlax reclaimed her that last time, she'd let me know that you were a pretty special fella. Well, that's what she said," he said. I nodded. And while I was nodding, I was pulling out my cell.

She arrived an hour later, dressed to the nines. I had to think it had taken that long to make her the vision that finally showed up.

"Jesus, you look great," I said.

"Keep talking like that and you might get to do me," she said.

"That is my sincerest hope," I said, smiling.

We talked for some little while. I told her my sad story. She told he hers. We adjourned to her place. And, I fucked her until my cock was on the verge of needing medical treatment.

"So what do we do now?" she said, as we lay naked on the front room floor.

"In my case burial because I just died and went to heaven," I said.

"You say the nicest things," she said, "weird, but really nice."

"Well, I am a college graduate," I said. "But, what would you say to a proposal of marriage. I mean, you know I'm on the rebound, but then again, not really."

"Are you serious?" she said.

"As the proverbial heart attack," I said. "I've been kinda in love with you for a while. I just couldn't let myself go because of your sometime relationship with the biggest idiot in the world. But, I sense a change in that regard. Have I got it right?"

"Mister, I d believe you have," she said. "And, to answer your question: yes." I pulled her nakedness on top of me and kissed her till my lips hurt.

******

Stephanie and I were seldom apart after that, and then a month later we had the inevitable business meeting.

"Honey, she said. "I've got some money saved. We can get a little bigger place if you want." I gave her a look and I didn't even know what kind. Money issues hadn't even occurred to me. I still had a quarter mother-in-law stashed. I figured my new squeeze had maybe a twentieth of that, and she was offering it to us. I finally smiled broadly.

"I have some money kinda hidden away too. You know for a rainy day," I said. "I think between us we'll be fine. And I can get a better job, but we might have to relocate. Would that be okay with you, sweetheart?"

"Whatever works," she said. "Just so long as you don't dump me for some chickee. I couldn't bear that. I just couldn't," she said, she wasn't being comical.

"Never happen," I said. "You're stuck with me."

Two months later we were married, and I was reemployed at my old digs, Hilling's Investments. It took a few months, but soon I was back to making the kind of scratch that I used to. And, no, I'd had no communication with Amanda or her ten-inch dick since returning. That would be a while in coming.

******

"He's back at Hilling's," she said. "I hear he's doing real good too. One of our customer's told me so today."

"Really? How good," said Christopher Amundsen.

"Like the old days, I guess. Well, it's what he does, isn't it," she said. She went pensive.

"Amanda? You okay?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess. It's just-well, I wish he'd never heard us talking about him that day. It sure screwed things up," said Amanda. "I think I'm going to sell the house. Should get a pretty penny out of that. Well, that's the hope."

"Hmm," he said. "Let's go to bed." She nodded. He read her look. He knew she was beginning to realize that sex really was a distant second to overall happiness, contentment. He made up his mind.

She turned on her side. She was alone and the sun was up. He must be in the bathroom, she thought. She closed her eyes for a few more minutes.

Stirring, she rolled out and checked the bathroom-nothing. She went down stairs. Nothing. She saw it, the note. She relaxed.

Amanda,

I'm leaving. We had a good run. But, can't stay any longer with no hope of marriage, and you always moping around about him. I tried; I really did. But, I want a life and a wife and maybe even kids, though as for that maybe it's too late, I don't know.

Be well,

Chris

Her sobs shook her very being.

"Hello, Morgan," said Amanda.

"You're in early today," said Morgan. "You know, if you don't mind my saying so, Amanda, you've looked kind of down and out these past few days," said her coworker.

"Lot of personal problems, Morg, I'm fine," she said.

"Amanda, Lillian said she talked to you. Your boyfriend abandoned you?" he said.

She gave him a look. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to pry. It's just…"

"What, Morg," she said.

"Well, you know-well-I've always had a thing for you Mandy… " he said.

"Huh?" she said

"Well, I mean if there's a chance, well, that you might like to go out one of these nights. I'm a great listener," he said. She gave him an indulgent smile.

"I don't know, Morg. Right now I'm kind of just eating and breathing. Not sure I'd be too good company. But, thanks for asking," she said. "Rain check?"

"Sure bet," he said. "Oh, I don't know if you saw it, but your ex-husband made the papers. Society page no less. Some kind of big shot now, I guess." He handed her the local paper to peruse.

In the break room, she looked for the society page, and there it was: him and his wife. Her name was Stephanie. She knew he'd married. She'd heard it on the grapevine. She felt envy, a little sadness, and something else-she felt happy for him. After so long a time, she finally knew what she'd lost, and not just in economic terms. Her little guy was a winner. Well, he used to be her little guy. She could see from the picture that he was taller than his new wife.

******

I was just coming out of Denny's: I love their patty melts. I bumped into him pretty hard; he staggered back. Stephanie was still inside settling the bill. I'd been detailed to get the car from the back of the lot.

"Oh, sorry man. Didn't… " I started.

"Robbie," said the woman a few feet behind him."

"Amanda!" I said.

"Robbie," she said, repeating herself.

"Yeah, it's me. You should know," I said, not unkindly.

"Uh-Robert Lundsford, this is Morgan Peters, my husband; we work together at Hammond's" she said. He stuck out a tentative hand. I took it. We shook.

"We were just going to get some lunch," she said. "Interest you in joining us?" Just as I was about to beg off, politely, Stephanie joined us.

"Amanda," said Stephanie. They'd never really met though they'd seen each other at the We Smalls B&G; a couple of times. "Yes, we'd be good to have coffee with you. We've already eaten," she said.

"Steph?" I said.

"Don't be silly, Rob, we've a lot of history, especially you and Amanda. Coffee would be good. Perfect," she said. I shrugged. When the boss laid down the rules, it was a done deal.

"Am I missing something here?" said the newbie.

"Morgan, honey, Robert is my ex-husband," said Amanda.

"So you're the guy she's told me so much about," he said. I think I actually grimaced.

We all adjourned inside.

The waitress was quick to have the coffee front of us, but only brought two menus; well, she had just got done cleaning up after me and Stephanie. Amanda seemed anxious to talk, and so she did.

"How are you doing, Robbie?" she said. Stephanie smiled.

"Good, and you, Amanda?" I said. My tone was flat, but not completely devoid of interest.

"Fine, Morgan and I, got married a few months ago. I want to say up front that he knows my-our-history. I laid it all out for him. No secrets, no games, no Chris Amundsens," she said.

So there was the answer to the unvoiced questions I had had for the past five minutes or so. He knew, and she wasn't doing it anymore. Well, she said she wasn't.

"Well, that's good, interesting," I said. "How's life in the fast lane?"

"Good, we're happy. Heard about you and Stephanie here. Saw your pics in the paper," she said. Stephanie for her part was smiling affably and not offering anything but the occasional nod to the conversation. She seemed to sense that this conversation was going to be mainly between me and my ex.

"Yes, didn't know we were going to be featured; somebody was snapping pictures at the function and I guess they liked ours. There were a lot of folks there," I said.

Morgan Peters was looking antsy. He finally decided to contribute. I eye'd him. Five seven or eight, handsome, built, looked like a serious guy. I wondered about him. And, it occurred to me that Amanda really did like her men to be shorter than her, at least the ones she married. And, that was something else to wonder about, I mean I guess I wasn't the only one.

"Mister Lundsford, I must say I'm glad to finally meet up with you. You've been kind of a mythic presence in our marriage up till now. But, meeting you has cleared some things up for me," he said. "You are a serious guy aren't you?"

"Huh?" I said.

"Intelligent, focused I can read those from just the little I've seen in these last minutes. Amanda-well Amanda, has told me about your differences; I mean from before. Nobody could write a novel like that. Well maybe Shakespeare," he said.

Stephanie finally broke in. "You're still working for the same company, then," said Stephanie.

"Yes, we both are," said Amanda, in the same office actually. It works for us. We ride together in the morning, arrange the same vacation schedules; well, you get the idea."

"Yes, I guess so," I said.

"Robbie," said Amanda, "I want to apologize for everything. Everything and especially the things we said about you in those days. They were unforgivable, and unconscionable."

"Water under the bridge Amanda. We're good," I said. I glanced over at my wife; she nodded her okay. "Uh-how about the Peters' clan come to a barbecue at our house next Saturday. I mean if you guys are clear."

"I-I-don't… " started Amanda.

"We'd be happy to," said Morgan. "What should we bring?" He got a quizzical look from Amanda, but she smiled and nodded her agreement.

"No, nothing. Just yourselves," I said. We toasted each other with our waters, and said our goodbyes.

******

"So do you think he'll front us the money?" said Morgan.

"Don't know for sure, but he's a softie, so probably," she said. "He never could resist me when I wore a certain perfume." She was laughing now.

"Well, so wear it. We need to get the money from somewhere if we want to open that little business you have in mind," he said. She smiled.

-----------------------------

   Series:Rodney and Denise
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:His wife needs a lot more than her husband has the capacity ot give.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/63676/rodney-and-denise
Published:2010-04-11
"Rod, at first I had no intention of you ever being in the know about all of this. But-frankly-hiding it from you has gotten to be way too much for me," she said.

"Huh? Hiding what, Denise?" I said. I had a bad feeling.

"Well, to put it crassly, I'm a slut, Rodney Harris. I've been one for a long time. I have had many men, and I intend to keep on having many men. Wait please, let me finish, please." I'd started to get up. "That said…

"Rodney, you are the only man in my life for whom I have the slightest emotional attachment. Put another way, I love you, Rodney, and I hope you can deal with this information and be my lifelong love and husband and friend. But-I can't stop." She looked down and waited for me to respond.

"Huh? What? Slut? Me-deal with… " I was near speechless. My stomach was churning and I felt my eyes begin to water. I slowly rose and, unsteadily, begin to move out of the dinette and away from the worst moment of my entire life. I had no idea where I was going. I ended up in front of the front room picture window. I stood there, hands at my sides, my mind a complete blank.

I sensed her behind me. "I know how much I've hurt you just now, my husband. Especially after all of this time. I waited until Jill and Jimmy were out of the house and in college. I wanted to minimize the hurt. But now, looking at it-maybe the truth is that there is no way to minimize it," she said.

"No, no, there isn't," I whispered, more to myself than to her. "No, there isn't."

"I understand," she said. "Rod, I don't have a business dinner tonight, as I told you yesterday. I have a date, and I am going. If-if-if you are still here when I return, I know we will be all right. If not, well, then not I guess." I said nothing. Would I be there when she returned? The entire unadorned truth was I didn't know.

I watched as she readied herself for her date. It was torture. I wondered if she were taking care to make me realize how things would be if I did decide to stay. Our entire married life, nineteen years-lost.

I noticed the clock. It was ten minutes to eight. She was standing beautiful and sensual in the hallway. She looked at me. She had a kind of sad sympathy etched on her features. "I hope you'll be here when I return," she said. There was a certain earnestness in her voice. I said nothing, did nothing, I just watched as she turned and walked out, got in her car, and drove off.

Our conversation earlier on when she'd made her confession, if that's what it was; no, it was an ultimatum; had finally come home to roost in my befuddled brain. That had been at around two in the afternoon. I'd had time to think since then. And think I had.

Divorce? Was it a foregone conclusion? Maybe, maybe not, I wanted a measure of revenge regardless. Nothing too wild-ass; I wasn't going to go to jail for shooting anybody, but I had a plan to at least ruin her night.

I'd gotten lucky, and Denise had gotten careless. Well, why shouldn't she have; she knew me; she knew I wasn't the violent sort. I was a wimp in her eyes, a pussywhipped wimp, and she knew it. Well, anyway it had been true until two o'clock that afternoon.

Like I said, I'd gotten lucky, I'd overheard her phone call to her lover, soon after she'd destroyed me: some guy named Maxwell. It was clear that she was all kinds of sympathetic with my state of mind, but it was also clear that she had no intention of denying my rival his much needed pussy. My eyes had narrowed at that.

They were meeting for dinner at the starlight lodge and had rented a room there: room 314. I'd smiled at that, no, sneered. It's where we had spent our first night together years before, Denise and I. Not the same room, but the same floor. Like the late great Yogi once said, "It was déjà vu all over again."

The kids were still in town and dorming it up at the university twenty-five miles away. I'd called them. Both were twenty-one: yeah, yeah, they were already born when Denise and I married. We'd been living together and hadn't had the money or the balls to have the kind of wedding she wanted while she was pregnant, so we'd waited. Hey, other people have done it.

As I waited for my company in The Hinge, my favorite bar, I thought back to our marriage and the days that followed. We'd been true soulmates, or so I'd thought; I wondered now.

I saw the dynamic duo enter and head for my table; the place was pretty much empty.

"Hi daddy," said Jill.

"Hi dad," said Jimmy.

"Back atcha, both of you," I said. "You guys look good. School agrees with you." I was so proud of the two of them: tall good looking kids. Did I say I was a proud daddy.

"Daaddeee," said Jill, "I've seen that look before. You're up to something." Jimmy nodded agreement.

"Nothing too earth shattering kids, just a surprise for your mother. Are you up for it?' I said.

The yeah-yeahs were enthusiastic. I hated doing what I was about to do, but this one was for me. I was not going to end up the bad guy in this, and that was a dead-mortal-lead-pipe-cincheroonie. I told them that their mother and I were to meet up at the lodge where we had conceived them many years ago and have a fun weekend. I told them that I wanted them to be a part of it, but that their mother was in the dark about my plans. They yea-ed the heck out of the idea; the yeas would soon be turning to oh-my-gods if things worked out the way I figured they would.

It just occurred to me. I haven't described myself, or my adulterous whore of a wife, or our situation. Denise is cute, around five-five and one-twenty-five: brown hair, brown eyes. Me? I'm right at six-one and two-twenty. My brown hair is thinning quite a bit now; well, Whaddya gonna do. Oh, and I bench 315 for reps.

We both work, I'm an electrician, Gemini Electric Inc.; she's a beautician, Curls R Us. I graduated college with a B.A. in English of all things, and promptly went to work as an electrician's apprentice: union scale paid better than teaching elementary school. Denise got her certificate from beauty school and was kind of an expert at coloring hair-mostly of old ladies, so she says. She does pretty good at it moneywise too.

I took my car to the Starlight; the twins followed in theirs. I knew the old hostel only too well. Denise and I had used it for the odd weekend more than once since that first time years before. It held a kind of nostalgic sentimentality for me, and I'd thought for her as well, but I guess not in her case if she was sharing it with one of her studs.

Parking kind of back from the entrance we all exited and walked briskly inside. I waved a smile at the desk clerk, and led the troops to the elevator where I punched in for the third floor. It was almost 9:30. I was sure that the two lovers were well into it by now; that was key to my plans.

Room 314, and in fact all of the rooms at the Starlight were small. Large beds, small bathrooms and the mandatory little writing table; that was it. Once we were inside, the lovers would have no place to hide.

I didn't have a regular key, but the kids thought I did. Actually, I kinda did: I had a size-12 key. I was about to use it. I shushed the kids. They stood aside so I could open the door. They were geared to scream surprise.

I smiled, looked at my children, and drove my work boot through the door like it was made of Styrofoam. The kids were stunned. Inside the room Maxwell was ramming his cock into my very naked wife's butt hole. The kids stared.

The faces of the two fuckers were momentarily frozen in time as we visitors took in the scene.

"Momma!" screamed Jill.

"Mother!" Squeaked a completely at a loss Jimmy.

She saw me and fear and anger at once creased her features.

"Rod, you bastard!" she screamed. "My-our-children!"

"Yes, slut, our babies. Now there will be no doubt who the bad guy is in this, will there," I said. To her credit my whore of a wife began to sob.

"Sorry for messing up your evening," I said. "Uh-no-I take that back. I'm not sorry." I started laughing at the two naked adulterers on the bed. Good 'ole Maxwell was already springing into action trying to get some clothes on. Denise for her part had reached for the wadded up sheet and was trying to cover her nakedness.

Jimmy, being almost as big as me was going after the man. The scuffle was short; Maxwell was prostrate and bleeding profusely from the nose and mouth.

"Jimmy, please, no more," his mother said. "please!" Jimmy was snorting and sneering at his own mother. The look I got was indecipherable.

"You dating pussies now, mom?" was his verbal response to her. She was crying and unable to speak.

Jill moved slowly across the room to her, and took her in her arms. Well hell, I felt kinda sorry for the woman too.

"You did bad, mom," she said, rocking her back and forth.

"Dad, you and Jimmy go. I'll stay here with mom for a little bit and see she gets home," said Jill.

She saw me look at the lover who was still writhing in pain from Jimmy's attack. "It's okay, dad. He won't be getting anymore pussy or causing us any problems," she said.

I grabbed Jimmy and we left. I stopped at the desk downstairs and was met by a couple of uniforms. Evidently we'd been noticed by some of the other guests breaking down the door. I'd been prepared for this. I handed Jimmy my wallet.

"Bail me out in the morning, okay?" I said. He nodded.

Both Jimmy and Jill were waiting for me after I was released. The man he cleaned up the floor with hadn't pressed charges against Jimmy. I wondered if that were the result of Denise's intercession; I was betting it was.

"Thanks, kids," I said. "I am very sorry for putting you through all of that last night. But I…"

"Dad, it's okay," said Jill. "Let's go have lunch. Jimmy and I want some answers and we have some ideas. Okay?" I nodded. They had the helm for the moment.

We took a table at the back of my favorite Denny's. After ordering I proceeded to give them the skinny without any embellishment.

"Mom, actually said all that stuff to you, dad," said Jimmy. I nodded.

"Dad, mom loves you. She's just, well, mixed up. Can you-will you-you know, talk to her?" said Jill. I looked at my daughter with sad eyes. All the daddies of the world know how difficult it is to refuse anything a daughter asks of them.

"I guess, but don't hold out a lot of hope, baby. Your mother is who she is, and she made it more than plain to me how she felt and what she wanted. Hell, she probably won't even want to talk to me," I said.

"She'll talk to you. And, she'll talk to you about the men too. I made sure of that before we even came down to the jail to get you," she said. I looked at this wonder of nature I'd sired. I was so proud of her.

Jimmy, it seemed, had decided to hang around after I was arrested. He did it partly to make sure the women were all right, and partly to see what he could see about this Maxwell fellow.

The lover had come down stairs about fifteen minutes after we'd left him. He looked a lot the worse for wear, but he was ambulatory. Jimmy made an on the spot decision to follow him. He also got the make of car and plate number. The guy must have had some money; the car was a Jag.

Jimmy followed him to an upscale condo complex maybe ten miles from the scene of the crime. He didn't follow him inside, but that would have been pretty much useless in any event.

I stood on the steps and just looked at my house door. I'd come up just in time to see both Jimmy and Jill drive off. I was abandoned to my fate. Well, I was a tough guy. I could always knock her out if she tried to go on at me like she had the day before. I smiled at myself for that, for thinking like that. If it ever did come to blows between us, it would be her having the last laugh; I was well aware that I could never hit a woman; it wasn't in me.

It was my house, but I knocked. Ten seconds later the door opened. "Rod? Why did you knock?" she said. I stepped inside, but I didn't answer her. I didn't have an answer. After all that had gone down, I didn't feel like the place was mine.

"Rod? Are you all right? Please say something," she said.

"I'm here, Denise. Jill said you wanted to talk to me. But-let me say up front that if you're going to lay it on me like you did yesterday, then we have nothing to say to each other," I said.

She sighed. "Rodney-Rodney-Rodney, I really blew it didn't I. I knew almost as soon as I said what I said yesterday that I had hurt you bad. I said as much at the time if you'll recall. I just didn't realize how strongly you would react to it all. I am so sorry for everything.

"Please, though, are you all right? Are we all right? Please tell me," she said.

I stared at her. Not one word-so far-about her stopping what she was doing. All I was seeing, all I was hearing was a woman who was concerned about herself. Maybe a little concerned about me, but it wasn't coming across that way.

"I'm okay, I guess. You?" I said. I was playing it cool, but it was her that had to say the right things, not me.

She nodded. "I'm okay too. I was worried about you in that awful place. I mean the jail," she said. "I am so sorry." I still waited to hear anything substantial that changed anything; so far I'd heard nothing.

"You really nailed me and Maxwell," she said. She was slowly shaking her head. She looked, well, tired.

"Why am I here, Denise?" I said, finally. "Jill said you had something to say to me. Have you said it? Is there more? What?"

She was wringing her hands. "I'll stop if you want me to," she said. "If it will save our marriage, I'll stop. I mean if you want me to."

I looked at her like she had two heads. "If I want you to?

"Why would I want you to? I mean you love it so much. How could I deny you something that means so much to you?" I said.

"Huh?" she said. "Oh my God! No! I mean, of course I'll stop. I didn't say it right. I wasn't thinking. Okay? Is that good?" she said.

I started laughing. She was just too funny for words. It was so clear to me that she had no intention of stopping. She was gonna keep on fucking the whole damn neighborhood and there was not a damn thing I could do to stop her-nor could the children either if it came to that.

I went over to her, took her in my arms, kissed her and made her sit down. She relaxed. That would be short lived.

"Denise, you and I both know you're not going to stop," she started to interrupt; I held up my hands. "Let me finish," I said.

"Denise, I'm moving out. I'm not ready to divorce you, but I can't live with a woman-my woman-who is going to cuckold me almost on a daily basis and generally humiliate me every chance she gets.

"I love you, likely always will, but live with you? Not a snowball's chance in the place where the devil lives. I have only one request," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"I would ask that you never let any of your fuck buddies come into this house. Consider it neutral territory. You know kinda for me and you and the children, other family members to meet every once in a while. If you can do that, we can remain friends of a sort. You think you can do that?" said.

"Huh?" she said. I just looked at her and waited. "Oh, yes, I guess so. I mean absolutely. But-but-I would give it all up, I mean the men, if you want me to," she said.

"Denise, you can't give them up. They mean more to you than I do or even the children. And, it's okay. I get it. But, not here, is all I ask. Okay?"

"Rodney? Why are you doing this? Something's going on. What is it? You're too calm. Yesterday you almost destroyed me. You did destroy Maxwell. What's going on? Really," she said.

I knew my face darkened. "Denise, yesterday, when you talked to me; you humiliated me to a point that you never want to approach again. Divorce me, fuck around all you want, but never, ever talk to me like that again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," she said.

"And I didn't destroy Maxwell, Jimmy beat me to it. I would have, make no mistake," I said. "But, to answer your question, I'm not sure myself what's going on. I should be kicking your ass the hell out and hunting down your lovers to kill them. But for some damn reason, the whole outrageous scene amuses me.

"There is one thing though. I am very serious about this one, Denise. You need to be careful, very careful. Some of these men are not going to take no for an answer; I don't want you hurt. Like I said, I do love you.

"When this whole schmear plays itself out, and the dust settles; I want all of us to still be standing. Denise?"

"Huh?" she said.

"I do worry about you in this. I'm very worried," I said.

"Rodney? Would you stay with me? I need you by me. You make me feel safe," she said.

"Denise, I can't be around you while you're living this way. I mean fucking everything with a third leg. You've got my cell. Call me if you feel threatened. Otherwise, I won't be around much. Once in a great while if the children come down from school, but for now I can't live with my wife out there cuckolding me. I can't just sit around seeing it happen to me. I can't," I said.

We talked for a little while longer. I kissed her goodbye and left.

I spent the next few days doing one of two things, either moving into the shabby little motel room near work, or fighting it out with the twins.

They could not understand why I wasn't staying at the house and fighting for what was mine.

"Jill, for the last time. Your mother has to be ready to give up something she thinks about virtually every minute of the day. I can't compete with that. But, I am hoping that she will be willing to make the right decision soon. If she doesn't, well, we had some good times a couple of great babies," I said.

"Dad, you make me so mad," she said.

"Dad, You should listen to Jill; she's talked to mom. Mom wants you to stay home. She promised us she would stop doing all of that bad stuff. I believe her, dad," said Jimmy.

"And you should have believed her. She was telling the truth. What she wasn't saying was that she wasn't sure she could keep her promise. For me there can't be any half measures.

"Kids, she is living a dirty and treacherous life right now. She doesn't realize how bad it's going to be for her. If and when she does; then, there is a chance that she might change for the better. That's the hope in any event," I said.

The kids and I went at it for more than an hour. They wondered who the other men were that my loving wife had been cuckolding me with. I wondered too, but for the moment I was willing to let that particular question lay dormant; there'd be another day, a day of reckoning perhaps.

Working kept my mind off of the stuff I needed to keep it off of. I knew she'd do her best to reform; I also knew that there was no way she was ready to, not yet. I got my first inkling that I was right from an unusual source.

"Hi Rod," said Blue. Blue was not her name, it was her street name. Blue was a lady of the evening. Her real name was Beverly Kimbro. I only knew it because she was a sometime drinking buddy of mine. A couple of times a month we'd talk; I'd buy the booze, and she'd laugh at my idiot jokes. It was a deal made in heaven for the both of us.

"Hi girl," I said. "Ain't you workin' tonight?" I never pretended that her career choice wasn't the best. I didn't make decisions for other people. What worked for them, well, worked for them. I'd no business telling them what to do. If Blue had asked me to help her, or protect her, I likely would have. But, she hadn't, and she liked her work. I'd never had her, but she'd promised me a freebee if I ever had the urge. Horny as I was fast becoming, I was almost at that point, but not yet.

"No, I've got a cold, and I just don't feel up to anything other than kicking back. So, here I am. With a handsome man to buy me drinks," she said. She looked tired too, but, she'd just said she was under the weather.

"Jimmy, set the lady up. Her money's no good while I'm here tonight," I said, perhaps a little too grandly. Her bourbon and water was already poured; Jimmy knew the song. "How yuh doin', Blue, been a little while."

"Okay, Makin' a livin'; you know how it is. I keep hopin' some millionaire will like me enough to make an honest woman outta me, but so far all I got is a drinkin' buddy who appreciates my conversation," she said, laughing at me.

"Yeah, well, he does that," I said.

We talked for a while and then she went pensive on me. I let it be as long as I could, but eventually, I had to ask. "Okay, Blue, I know you. Something's up. Give."

She didn't want to, but then again, she did want to.

"I saw your wife, Rodney. She went into a motel with another man. Rod, I know enough about this stuff to write a freakin' book. She's fucking someone else, guy. She's cheatin' on you," she said. I slowly shook my head from side to side.

"I know, Blue. I know," I said. "She said she was trying to quit doin' it to me, but I know she can't, not for any length of time at any rate.

"You know who he is?" I said.

"No, never seen him before. Just some John as far as I could see. They didn't look too lovey dovey. I think it was just a couple of civilians needin' to get their rocks off," she said. I nodded. "Yeah well that's a common disease isn't it?" I said.

"Yes, yes it is," she said. "Wanna get yours off with me? I'm in the mood."

I looked over at her. She did look pretty tonight, I thought. "Sure, why not," I said. "I need it pretty bad, like I said. You'd be perfect for me." She looked askance at me, but she didn't say anything.

Her place was a cheap ass hotel room a few blocks from the Hinge.

She stopped in the parking lot and waited for me to come to her. Having parked, I walked over to where she was waiting. "That's my place there," she said, pointing. "Your wife and her John went into that one," she said, nodding in the direction of a room some three doors from her own.

"It was just the other evening. I was coming home to get ready for a date. There was no mistaking her, Rod. I've met her a number of times with you at the bar. But, Like I said, I don't know who the guy was."

I let her lead me to her door. I was looking forward to the next few hours. I couldn't remember being hornier than I was at that moment.

"How long have I known you, Blue?" I said.

"A long time," she said. "Maybe four or five years. She stopped, looked around, walked a few feet away. Her back was to me. I could tell she was wringing her hands. She definitely had somthing to say to me. I looked at her thinking something was wrong. I moved around in front of her. "Rod, would you do me a favor?" she said.

"Yeah, sure, of course," I said. I was really concerned at her antics, her words.

"Would you-would you-call me Beverly?" I smiled, relief flooded my brain. I nodded.

"Yes, of course, Beverly," I said. She seemed inordinately happy at my attitude.

I needed to get back on track. I really was bursting at the seams with horniness.

"But Beverly, anyway, in that time, in that five years, do you realize-that I have never even shaken hands with you?" I said.

We were standing in the middle of her apartment. Clearly it was her work station, not her real residence. A bed, a chair, a writing table, an old TV, and a bathroom: that was it: just like the starlight. "You live cheap," I quipped.

"Uh huh," she said, looking at me like I was mister dense or something. I had to laugh, and I did.

"Smartass," she said, smiling.

"You gonna take me or not?" she said, hands on her hips-her very shapely hips.

I moved to her and took her in my arms. She melded herself to me and the heat of her almost caused me to cum before we'd even done anything.

We stripped in record time. I beat her by a nanosecond. Naked, we held each other for a moment.

I turned her around and pressed my very turgid six inches into her crack. She moo'ed. My hands explored her B-cups, and I began sucking on her neck. God, she smelled so good, and I was all but consumed with wanting her.

I went to my knees and gripped her thighs with some force. I pulled her to me and kissed her naked mons. I traced her slit with my tongue. I buried my face between her legs as she spread them a little to allow me greater access.

I pushed away from her and turned her around. I was still on my knees. But now, I was just inches away from her buttocks. I kissed each of them and parted their cheeks. I kissed her nether hole. I licked her there and she jerked.

"That tickles," she said, looking over her shoulder at me. I just looked up at her and gripped her thighs even tighter. I licked and kissed and worshipped her behind as though she were a goddess.

I stood. "You're wonderful," I said, as I kissed her. "God how I need you right now."

"Then, take me," she said. "You're the man; take this woman. She won't resist; she knows her place and her fate. Just fucking take me"!

I pushed her back onto the bed and forced her legs apart-as if I'd had to. I probed her pussy with the tip of my penis and felt myself able to gain a small lodgment. I pushed more or less gently and the head was in. I pushed a little harder and I was halfway inside of her. I pulled out a little way and then back into her. Soon I was buried six inches deep into the most wonderful place a man can enter. She wrapped her legs around me and started bucking. She was making sure she could get her rocks off too. I began slamming into her. She stiffened and a wild look came over her face. She grabbed my hair and pulled me down to kiss me and mutter incoherent noises into my ear.

I exploded inside of her. I relaxed for a moment or two and rolled off of her. As I did, I pulled her on top of me.

"Spin around and take me in your mouth Bev. Please. Now"! She did. And as she did, I began sucking on her cum soaked pussy like I had never sucked on a pussy before. Jesus this woman was hot. I cursed myself for not taking her up on her offer of a freebie before.

Hard again, I flipped her over on her belly and again forced her legs wide apart. I pushed at her sopping pussy yet again entering her from behind. This time it took some time before I was able to come; she did, however, manage two small cums before I was able to again unload into her.

We lay together spent and covered in sweat. I was breathing hard; she, less so. She had made my day. Oh yeah, for damn sure.

Blu-Beverly, had made a major difference to my psyche. I no longer felt like the complete and unregenerate loser. But, happy? Not by a country mile. I still thought of little else during the day but my all but lost love, my wife, my Denise.

I had to know more. Didn't I? Well, I would. I absolutely would. It was two days after my rendezvous with Beverly that I decided it was time to play the sleuth.

I was parked outside of, and down the street from, her place of work waiting for her to get off. I had no idea whether or not she would be meeting anybody or whether she might just go home. I hadn't long to wait. It was already 4:55 and she would be getting off in five minutes. At 5:07 she came out.

I watched as she got into her car and drove off down the street. She was not headed for the house. I followed at a distance. She parked in front of a bar and grill on the other side of town. She entered the bar part of the building. I was fairly sure of what I would find if I went inside. I didn't; I waited in the car. I would give her a head start when she came out and follow her.

But, she didn't come out. I waited for two hours. I had to pee, so I just decided to leave. I shook my head from side to side; that was a big assed waste of time. I gave Beverly a call.

I don't know why I hadn't thought of it, but the last time Denise had played-that I knew of-was the night that Blue had seen them in the same motel that she used for business. I had followed her, Denise, the one time, but she had just gone to a bar. But, now it came to me. Maybe she and her boyfriend: Maxwell or whomsoever, might be using the same motel regularly. I knew she wouldn't be going back to the Starlight, not after the little show we'd all put on that one night. The resolution to check out Bev's business address made, I felt good; I had a goal. The usefulness of that little decision was soon realized.

"Yes, they're inside," said Blue. Same room actually. The night manager told me that lately they had had a standing reservation for Wednesday nights. This was Wednesday night.

"How long?" I said.

"Maybe an hour, I guess," she said. "But, Rodney, you told me you expected her to keep it up. I don't know why you're acting so surprised. Really, stalking her. You knew she was going to keep it up. There was never any mystery about that."

"Yeah, I know. It doesn't make any sense. I don't make any sense. It's just-well, it is what it is, that's all," I said. "I guess I just keep wanting to be wrong-in spite of everything."

"You thinking of breaking them up like that other time?" she said.

"No, I'm thinking of fucking you next door to them," I said…

She looked askance at me. "Rod-I'm not into revenge fucks," she said. "If you want me, that's one thing. If you just want to prove to yourself that you can be as big an asshole as she is, then you are barking up the wrong tree. Okay?"

"Yes, well, I do want you for you. And, that you can take to the bank," I said.

Neither of them noticed the man watching them from across the street. A man, but not a happy man.

"Jill, I'm telling you, daddy is dating a whore. I watched him go into her private brothel and he didn't come out in the three hours I waited there," said Jimmy.

"Jim, I hear what you're saying. But-how do you know the woman was a whore? How do you know that they are even doing anything," said Jill.

"Jill, I've been with the woman myself. Her street name is Blue. Jill, she was my first piece of ass. And, for the record she's good at what she does. But, she is not good for our dad! She's a fucking prostitute! Am I getting through to you? Our poor old man is reduced to having pay for it, Jill. It's humiliating.

"Jesus! I guess we have to talk to him. I don't know. Maybe he's not-you know-very good in bed. I mean maybe that's why mom… " said Jill.

"Jill, don't go there. I do not want to involve mom in any of this. We've got enough trouble with her as it is," said Jimmy.

The brother and sister were waiting in the Hinge when the woman came in. She was clearly on the hunt. Well, prostitutes had to make a living didn't they?

"I'll go talk to her first; it's been a couple of years, but I know her. You come over when I signal you, okay?" said Jimmy. Jill nodded.

"Hello, Blue," said Jimmy. The woman looked up and had a strange expression on her face.

"I know you, but I'm afraid I just don't-wait-a year ago. You were the virgin college boy. Right?" she said. "Johnny, I think," she said.

"Close. Two years ago. I'm amazed you remember. I was the virgin, but the name is Jimmy."

The woman smiled. "Well, how have you been? You looking for nookie tonight?"

"Fine, and no, I'm not looking for nookie. I do need to talk to you. My sister and I need to talk to you," he said.

"Sister?" she said. She watched while he signaled for his sister to join them.

"Blue, this is my sister, Jill, Jill Harris," said Jimmy.

"Harris?" Suddenly, the face of the woman darkened. "Oh my god! Your father has to be…"

"Yes, Rodney Harris," said Jill. "And, we have a situation to talk to you about."

"Let me guess. You two don't want your dad fucking me. Is that it?" said Blue.

"Blue, it's nothing against you," said Jimmy. "it's just…"

"I know. Your dad told me about his marital problems. I'm a good listener.

"Look, kids, your dad's a big boy. He's hurting. We talk-well-he talks, like I say, I listen. I love the guy, as I'm sure you do. I haven't added to his hurt. Okay?" she said.

The two siblings looked at each other. "Blue-our dad-well, he's hurting real bad, as you seem to understand," said Jill. "We'd just appreciate it if-well-you know, if you'd kinda stay clear of him for a while. We…"

"Kids, with all due respect, if your dad comes to me, I will not be sending him away. Oh, and if it's any consolation, my body won't be costing him anything. He's not a client. Okay?" The two siblings looked at each other.

"Okay," said Jimmy. "Just please don't hurt him. He's our dad, and we know he's kinda fragile right now." Jill nodded her agreement.

"That I will promise you," said Blue. The trio spoke for some more minutes, and parted.

"Well, Whaddya think?" said Jimmy.

"I don't know. I kinda like her, but she is a prostitute, not our kind of people," said Jill.

"Hey. I was one of her customers at one time. She's all right as far as I'm concerned. My problem is that I really don't wanna see our family broken up," he said.

Jill shrugged, "Well, yeah, there is that," she said. "I sure hope she doesn't hurt him; I mean add to his hurt."

She crawled out to the curb and onto the sidewalk of the shaded street. No one was near, no witnesses. Blood was everywhere: clothes, face, even her feet. The only saving grace was the fact that she was drunk.

The man looked over at her and then sped off in the chartreuse Corvette. The fucking whore, he thought. She had it coming. She'd come onto him, hadn't she. Made him pay for lunch and then wouldn't put out! She'd not pull that shit again, not anytime soon at any rate. Fucking whore!

Denise pulled herself up, first to her knees, then to her feet. She could still walk. Not in a straight line exactly, but she could make progress to the corner; she didn't stumble. The blood in her eyes made seeing iffy. Surely someone would see her, help her.

She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn't see anything. She smelled it- hospital antiseptic. She was in the hospital; she was sure of that much. Michael did this to her. He beat her. Michael Westbrook, that was the name of the man from the bar. They'd had lunch? Yes, lunch, and then the drive to the deserted park. Yes, the park in black town. He'd taken her, ruthlessly.

The black lady? Yes, the black lady had called the fire department; she could remember that.

Someone was moving around her. Why couldn't she see? She began to struggle. Her hands! Her hands were bound.

"Be calm," said a voice. "I'm nurse Regan. You're in Mercy General. You had a bad-accident," said the voice. "I will release you if you can calm down."

"Okay," said Denise, in a weak voice. She was starting to cry. "Why can't I see?"

"Please, the doctor will be here momentarily. He will answer your questions," said nurse Regan, as she released the Velcro restraints holding the other woman's arms.

She heard the nurse moving around and apparently arranging things for the doctor.

"Morning," said a man's voice.

"Doctor?" said Denise.

"Dr. Noyes," he said.

"Why can't I see," said Denise. She knew she was sounding desperate.

"Mrs. Harris. You were pretty badly banged up. We have saved your eyes, and you will heal. But-we-you will need to be careful for a while.

"May I ask, is there someone we can call for you? We found your purse and your I.D., but when the police went to the place on your license they'd found you'd moved, and no one knew where or with whom," he said.

She was silent for a moment. "Rodney Harris," she said, "my husband."

The doctor wrote down the info, cautioned her to rest, and promised to return.

She sure looked peaceful, as I sat beside her bed and watched her breasts slowly rise and fall with her breathing. The intravenous sedative would have her out for hours. But, I was going nowhere until I could scold her for being so reckless. I might be married to the whore, but clearly my warnings had fallen on deaf ears. Yes, she and I would be talking.

She was so beautiful even with all of the wrappings and tubes.

I'd fallen asleep and when I awoke she was staring at me. Evidently the nurses had come in and removed her eye bandages while I'd slept. Jesus I was tired.

"Hello Rodney," she said, in a what sounded like a little girl's voice.

"Hi, honey girl," I said. I was shaking my head from side to side. "How do you feel?"

"Numb," she said.

"Probably the sedatives after effects," I said. "Denise-who-who was it?" I said.

"Rodney, I really don't…"

"Denise, who the fuck was it. A name," I said.

"Michael Westbrook. Met him at the Hinge," she said. He seemed so nice, Rod. We had lunch. I wasn't feeling too well, and well, he thought I was leading him on, teasing him. You know. He forced me…"

"Okay, that's enough," I said. "I will take care of things. You just get better. Jill was here last night. I think she's coming back this morning. I have to go to work.

"Denise, this is not a good life you're leading. You really have to get it together at some point. I mean it," I said.

"I know. Rodney, I am so sorry, so very sorry. And-and-thank you for coming."

"Like I wouldn't have come. You're still my wife, Denise. You're not acting like it, but you are still regardless," She started to cry. I felt like shit making her.

"Denise, no matter what happens to us, I will always be there for you. But I have to go. You take care," I said. I kissed her on the forehead, turned, and left. I had to get out. I didn't want her to see the growing anger in my eyes or the way my lips were twitching in absolute hate for the scumbag that would do something like this to a woman-any woman.

The Hinge. "Yeah," said, Earl. "He's some rich guy. He comes in here some days. Usually in the daytime. If there's any fluff around he tries to latch onto it and get himself a free nooner. He's tried with Blue a couple of times, but no dice there; she's way to savvy.

"I think he owns some kind of car dealership, but I'm not sure," said Earl.

"It didn't take long to find the asshole. I'd gone to the yellow pages. Denise had said he'd had a brand new Vette, a model that wasn't even on the market yet it was so new. I hit pay dirt on the fourth call. He did own it all right. Now, for a little visit.

The dealership was first class. The dude did have money. That was good; his medical bills were going to be substantial.

After a couple of low key enquires of the help, I was able to locate the very busy executive. He was a big guy, as big as me. Didn't matter, he was going down.

"Westbrook I presume," I said. I was smiling as though I was some big ticket customer coming to make him richer than he already was.

"I'm Rodney Harris. Took some time to locate you, but, well, now I'm here," I said. I was still smiling. So was the perp.

"Well, yes, I'm Westbrook. Call me Mike," he said. He stuck out his hand to shake. I ignored it.

"Yes, well, I'm the husband of the woman you nearly beat to death yesterday," I said. He dropped his hand, and stepped back a bit. He face darkened.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. He was going to bluff it out. Deny, deny, deny. No doubt exactly what his unconscionably expensive attorney would tell him when the cops finally got around to visiting him.

"That your chartreuse Vette over there?" I said.

"What do you want Mr. Harris? I'm a busy man," he said.

"Want? Why to clean your clock," I said. I was still smiling. This was getting to be fun. "You know before the cops make it a moot point by arresting you."

He took a swing at me. It came clean out of left field. Hoping for the haymaker, I guess. It grazed my cheek. I'd been hit harder by my mother-when I was a kid of course. My first strike on the other hand took out his right knee. He went down gasping.

"Hurts like a sonovabitch, don't it, asshole," I said. I took a half step closer. He was rocking back and forth holding his knee with both hands; I think he was crying. The toe of my steel toed work shoe caught him on the up-rock; caught him square in the teeth. Well, he did have money; he could afford a new set.

He squirmed on the ground and made to crawl away. I leveled a Saturn-5 missile shot directly at the place where his descendants were even now boiling in their pre-destiny; they would never be making their appearance; his balls were mush. He started to vomit; the bile stunk up the place.

The timing couldn't have been better. As I turned and walked away, I'd gotten no farther than the door to my car when two black-and-whites pulled in. Well, he'd be easy to cuff and take away.

Yeah, yeah, I figured they'd be coming for me too at some point. Taking the law into my own hands and all of that muck and prattle. But at least I'd have the jury's empathy. He, on the other hand, would likely not.

As it turned out the D.A would not be pressing charges against me: too much expenditure for too little return was the analysis of my lawyer. Dearest Mikey, thank you very much, got two years, out in eleven months.

I was sitting in Denny's, my favorite diner. She was seated across from me.

"Rod, you need to shit or get of the pot. I love you, but I know you still have feelings for Denise. While I am not by any stretch of the imagination qualified to throw stones; I'm gonna pitch a couple anyway.

"She needs more than you got, Rod, and it ain't never gonna change. You're a much better than an average lover, Rod, not great but good; and I am qualified to make that determination. Add to that, you're a good provider, and nice person, and tolerant to an almost unbelievable degree. Oh, and I am more than qualified to make you 'great'. So, Rodney Harris…

"I want you, I need you, I love you: but, I am not prepared to wait forever for you. Let me know when it's convenient, okay?" She stood, came around to me, kissed me on the cheek. "Love you," she said. I never got a word in edgewise!

Well, that went well, I thought. We'd never so much as said a word to each other about us becoming more than friends-albeit friends with benefits; but here she was spouting Elvis lyrics to me. How did I feel? Good damn question.

I would be speaking to Denise, and that right soon. Beverly was right about that; I did need to make some decisions.

I wasn't on hand when Denise was released. I'd asked her to call me and let me know when, so I could see to her immediate needs; she didn't, call that is.

One of the nurses offered that some guy, some black guy, had come to get her. My woman sure as hell seemed hell bent on ticking me off.

She still worked, I knew. If she wasn't recuperating at wherever she was staying; and it evidently wasn't the house, and God knew why that was; I would be able to catch up to her and get some things settled.

She was walking slow when she came out, as well she might. It was 5:00PM on the dot. I was half hidden behind a bush next to the door. She didn't see me.

"Well, and were you ever going to say goodbye or go to hell or whatever," I said.

"Rod! You scared me," she said.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was cold of me just to leave there without a word. Please forgive me. Okay?"

"Okay, you're forgiven, but I need to talk to you. You hungry?" I said.

"Rod-I-I-"

"Denise, I need to talk to you. We can drink or eat, your choice; but it's going to be one or the other," I said.

She sighed. "Eat then, I guess. I am a little hungry."

The Crabtree was a nice fish place. We'd eaten there a lot in years gone by, but not in quite a while. She smiled when she figured out that that's where we would be going.

Inside she relaxed. "Been a while hasn't it," she said.

"It has that," I said. The waiter took our orders and disappeared. "How are you feeling I should ask?"

"Better than Mike Westbrook," she said looking at me strangely. "They say he'll never be the same."

"Yeah, well, neither will you, not inside at least." She nodded.

"Denise, what are you going to do? You gonna keep doing this sex stuff? I hear some black guy picked you up from the hospital. It was supposed to be me," I said.

She nodded her understanding of my upset. "That was a mistake. Not Mark picking me up, that was okay, but not clearing it with you was naughty of me. You'd been so kind; I owed you more than the damn phone call it would have taken. I still do."

"Then, why do you keep doing this shit to me, Denise? If I deserve better, then give me better," I said.

She started glancing around. She was trying her best to look at everyone in the place but me.

"Denise?" I said.

"The truth, Rod? Do you really want the truth?" she said. They way she said it made me wish I didn't, but I did.

"Yes," I said.

"The reason I had Mark pick me up instead of you is 'because' I owe you so much. I have done nothing but hurt you. And for what? For my own selfish self indulgence. And, I can't stop. I need it."

"What are you talking about, Denise? The sex? You can't be decent to me because you want to whore around on me? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?" I said.

"Yes, but it's a bit more than that," she said.

"Huh?"

"Rod, you are a great guy in any number of ways, but you are next to worthless as a lover. You should have your friend Blue help you out there… " I started to interrupt, but she held up her hands.

"Yes, I know about her. You forget, she and I have met a number of times over the years. I know what she does and what she is. Anyway, maybe she can help you be better, so that when you find someone else you can get the job done.

"Rod I am not telling you this to hurt you. The fact is that I want to keep you. But, as I told you, seemingly so long ago, I need you to be okay with my outside love life. Boy, would that be the cat's meow for me," she said. "But, I know you will never be okay with it. So-so-Rod-we need to get a divorce. Not for me, honey, but for you. You need to be free. I'm not going to marry again. You've spoiled me for other men. But, I have other needs that can only be met by a variety of fellows. For the record, Mark-the black guy-isn't my lover. He's my guard, sort of. He watches my back now. He's an ex-boxer, but he's gay. I'm shacking up with him for now; we share expenses.

"I've sealed up the house. I knew this meeting between us would come sooner or later, and we'd be wanting to sell the place; so I sealed it up and took care to make sure the realtors would be able to get us the best deal.

"Did I do good there, honey?" she said. She apparently really wanted me to approve of her doings. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "But Denise, are you sure about this. I mean the divorce? I need to know. If it's what you want; well then, okay. But…"

"Yes, Rodney Harris. It's for the best. I've even spoken to Jill about it. She isn't thrilled, but she understands. I've been afraid to talk to Jimmy; he's still pretty sore at me," she said.

"I'll handle it," I said. "He loves you, Denise, but he is of the same opinion as me as to your exploits.

"Denise, I think you need counseling. Your choice, but there isn't much doubt about it as far as I'm concerned," I said.

She ignored my words. "Can we be friends, Rodney. I mean still-after the divorce?" she said. I smiled.

"Yeah, sure. Hell, we're still family. We have a couple a babies between us you know." She sobbed and came around and gave me a kiss. Helluva thing.

"Holidays?" I said.

"Together. Always, if that's okay with you," she said. I nodded and smiled. Well, we were getting a lot done.

"Absolutely," I said.

It was getting to be a habit. I lifted my glass to her and she, perhaps a little more tentatively, did the same.

"You said you wanted me to poop or vacate the facility," I said.

"Huh?" said Blue.

"Well, I have. Denise and I have. I filed yesterday, and we're done in six months," I said.

She leaned her head a little to the right; then, a little to the left. She stopped. "You mean… " she said.

"Yes, we're divorcing. She wants to keep me, but only if I can live with her occasional-friends-doing her. I couldn't and she understands.

"Bev, some time ago you mentioned that you were waiting for some rich guy to snap you up and take you out of the life you were living. Well, rich I ain't, but I'm not totally bereft of resources or talent. Anyway, my question is-is that enough for you? Am I enough for you?" I said.

She got up and came around the table. "Move your chair a little back, please," she said. I looked her askance, but did as she said.

She sat on my lap and draped her arms around me. "Kiss me you big lug," she said. Well, I'm good at following orders ask any of my current or former employers. I did as she said.

She pulled back a tad, "Of course you're enough for me, Rodney, and you've always known that," she said.

"Then, let's get married. I mean as soon as the divorce is final," I said.

"Rod, fine. That's fine. But… " she said.

"The children? Right?" I said. She nodded.

"You let me take care of that," I said.

"Okay," she said.

"Beverly, I do see the irony in all of this. I mean I'm leaving Denise because I refuse to be her willing cuckold. And, I will be marrying a professional prostitute-but an ex-professional prostitute. Right?" I said.

"You got that right, big boy," she said. "In fact I had a date tonight who is going to be more than a little pissed at the turn of events. But, guess who I choose between you and him?"

"Dad? You're kidding right?" said Jill.

"No, Jill, I'm not. Blue and I will be married after the divorce is final."

"Dad, you're making no sense, said Jimmy. I mean you're marrying a woman, who is an active prostitute, and you're divorcing mom for doing pretty much the same thing. Dad, explain that to me. I don't get it."

"Yes, I can see where it might be a little confusing," I said.

"No, let me," said Denise. I nodded my okay.

After Denise and I had made the decision to get the divorce, but to remain at least friends. Denise had come up with a plan. It made sense, and, well, here we were.

"Your dad is not divorcing me for being a whore, children. He's divorcing me because I betrayed him." I raised my hand to stop her.

"No, Rod, let me please. Maybe I can make some small amends here.

"Jill, jimmy, your dad will not willingly be any woman's cuckold. It's not in him. I tried to make it so, but, well, I blew it. Blue won't make the same mistake. She's quit the business. So you see, it's not the same thing.

"Mom," said Jill, "Are you…?"

"Still going to have boyfriends? Well, I will be single, won't I, Jill. But-can you forgive me? I know I've made a muck of things… " said Denise.

The children got up as one and went to her. The hugging and the kissing and the crying went on for some little time. I went into the kitchen of the condo. The owner was there; he had the beer supply.

"Well, Mark, I'd be pleased if you would look after her, and let me have one of those," I said, pointing to his beer. "You know my number if you need anything-help-whatever," I said. He passed me the beer.

"Yeah, you'll be in the loop, man. She still loves you, you know. But, from what I know, the two of you are doing it right," said Mark.

I smiled broadly. Things were gonna be okay.

-----------------------------

   Series:Roger and Jane
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Initially, he's caught between a rock and a hard place; but he figures it out.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/74204/roger-and-jane
Published:2013-06-05
They were actually going at it in the bushes. We'd gotten to the picnic early and set up the barbecue. The rest of the employees, having arrived pretty much on time, were socializing and drinking and having a gay old time.

As third man in the company of Silver and Silver Mfg., that is Benjamin and Rodney Silver, I was the barbecue man of choice. At S&S; we manufacture a plethora of household goods, mostly electrical appliances. It wasn't all me of course doing the cooking, I was a high mucky-muck in the company; so I did enlist the help of Jim Conroy, our sales manager and Mary Cousins, our HRO chief; still, again, in point of fact the barbecue pit was traditionally my very own fiefdom at these get togethers which was fine with me.

Jane, my wife of fifteen years, and I always arrived at these dos early and today was no exception. Jane was a housewife, had never worked a day of our married life together. But for our company picnics she always contributed the German potato salad and some other dishes as the mood struck her.

I could see her, Jane, now carrying on with my immediate boss, Rodney Silver over by the tree line. They were laughing up a storm. I was feeling good. Well, that is I had been. I had been until I'd gone looking for my wife who had earlier, without my noticing, gone missing.

I'd handed the barbecue helm over to Jim, and like I said, I'd gone looking for her. Carol Bisbee, the big boss' secretary-Ben Silver, Rod's older brother, was numero uno in the company-pointed me to a copse of shrubs across the park as the direction in which she had seen her heading with some others. At least she thought that that was the direction that Jane had gone.

My woman had been gone for a good forty-five minutes before I'd started hunting her down. It'd been a full hour before I'd found her, and I wished I hadn't. They-she and my boss- were in a small open space hidden behind some bushes. She was naked and lying on her clothes. His pants were pulled down around his knees, and his cock was buried deep inside her cunt.

I was stunned. I was angry. And, mostly, I was sad. I'd headed back to tend the barbecue I'd left in Jim's hands.

My stomach was roiling. Taking over from Jim, I did my best to concentrate on the nothingness of the job at hand: making really good hamburger patties.

It was about twenty minutes after my discovering them that the two adulterers showed up. Breaking away from him, she came to me.

"Hi honey, doing a good job?" she said. She was smiling to beat the band.

"Okay, I guess," I said.

"Nonsense, you make the best burgers in the county. That's why you always get to do the barbecuing," she said. I thought it sweet of her to let me know how appreciated my burgers were.

I didn't say anything or even look at her. She sensed that I had something on my mind. She asked.

"Something wrong, big guy?" she said. Now, I did look at her.

"I don't know. You tell me," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"I guess you have to be the one to tell me if sex with me is still at least okay," I said.

She paled, but gathered herself. "Roger! Why on earth would you say something like that?"

"Well, since you feel the need to fuck my boss, I just wondered if there was anything left for me. I mean in your heart-and-your plans," I said.

"What are you talking about? Are you nuts?" she said.

"I saw you, in the bushes, a few minutes ago. He was fucking you, and you were encouraging him," I said.

"Oh my god! Oh, my god! Roger, what are you going to do?" She was looking furtively around to see if anyone was close enough to figure out what was going on; there wasn't. "It's not what you think, really," she said. I just stared at her. I didn't say anything. She wheeled around and started walking away from me. Her gait was purposeful.

I saw her go to him. He was kind of far off, over by the kids' swings giving his little boy Aaron an assist, a small push. His wife, Elise Silver had not come to the party, had one of her own to go to as he'd told me the day before./

I saw her talk animatedly to him. His head suddenly snapped around, and he looked in my direction. I held his gaze for some seconds before he turned back to her. Oddly, she stayed where she was as he came towards me. I flipped a burger I was tending just as he approached.

He looked over at Jim who was sipping a beer a few yards away. "Jim, could you take over for Roger for a couple of minutes, please." Jim came over and held out his hand for the spatula. I gave it to him.

My boss headed off toward the tree line to our right. It was clear that I was supposed to follow him. I did.

"Roger, I don't know what to say," he said. Of course I knew he was about to say a lot. Well, I assumed he was.

"I guess you caught us. Jane said you did. Whaddya gonna do?" he said.

"What can I do? Nothing," I said, answering my own question.

"Huh?" he said.

"Me divorce her? I get raped by the court. And again, if I quit my job? I'm screwed there too. I'm forty-eight, too old to start over. So, I guess there is nothing I can do," I said. "Anything else, mister Silver?"

"Uh-no-I guess not," he said. I turned and headed back to the barbecue pit.

******

I didn't smell divorce in the air as far as her having me served was concerned. And, I knew that Rodney, at age forty-five, wouldn't want to be looking to get a divorce from his wife, Elise Silver, since her mother; the missus Alice Barrington, the widow of Marshall Barrington of hotel fame, was the power behind the throne if there ever were such a thing. She had been the actual founder of S&S; Inc. some twenty years earlier when brothers Ben and Rodney had come to her with a an idea for a new firm: a good idea as it turned out. At any rate, I knew I had time to figure things out.

I knew what I knew, and I knew that wouldn't change with me getting all upset and angry and problematical. No indeed, I intended to do nothing for the near term. I would get along with Jane, make no waves that would overtly threaten Rodney, and generally be mister good guy, mister more than reasonable guy. Hell, I still needed her. The question was, did she still need or want me?

We pulled into the driveway just as true dark settled in around us. The ride home had been mostly silent.

"I'll unload the car. Okay?" I said.

"Yes, better now than tomorrow, Sunday," she said. "Tomorrow will be just for us to hang out, unless you'd rather us do something else," she said.

"No, I have nothing on tap at the moment. But, I'll think it over," I said.

"That'll be fine," she said. She was watching me closely. So far we'd not so much as mentioned the happenings of earlier in the day.

I came in through the front door. I could hear her doing something in the kitchen. I headed for the bathroom. I needed a shower; I smelled like barbecue.

It was some little while before I joined her in the dinette where she'd decided to situate herself. She had a jug of martinis set out and was nursing one. She poured me one, dropping the olive into it, as I took my seat.

"I thought we could have a drink or two and talk," she said. "Or not."

"Whatever you want, Jane. I'm easy," I said.

She sipped her drink. I followed suit. "Rog, you okay?" she said.

"Sure. I guess so," I said. Jesus, she looked pretty at that moment-and-sexy. I wanted her even though I knew she still had his spunk inside of her.

"You're not hurt? Oh, heck, of course you're hurt. I mean seeing me-us-like that. I am very sorry for that, Rog, sincerely." I nodded. "Anything I can do-well, just ask. I mean it."

"I do have a question," I said.

"Yes?"

"How is your doing him going to affect us?" I said. "I mean…"

"It won't affect us at all on my account, Rog. I know I made a mistake. I know you have a right to be angry. I'm surprised you haven't gotten angry already. Anyway, like I say, I won't let what I did affect us. And, I promise to make it up to you," she said.

"Okay," I said. I wanted to ask the next question in the worst way, but I was afraid of the answer. She asked and answered it herself.

"Roger, I know you are wondering if I will do it with him again. I'd like to be able to say that I wouldn't. But…"

"But, you will," I said. She looked away, and then looked back at me and nodded.

"But Rog, it will not affect our love life, nor will it interfere with any of our future plans. I promise you that. Can you understand what I'm about here?"

"I don't know. Not much I can do about it. I guess I'll just have to see.

"You say it won't affect our love life. If I were to say, I want you right now; I mean right now, what would you say?"

"Rog, I'd say yes, of course. But Rog, I haven't showered or douched. I don't think… " I stood.

"Come on," I said. "I want you now."

"Rog? Are you sure. I mean I can take a shower first…"

"No, I need you right now," I said. She rose from her chair and started toward the hall. I took hold of her arm and coaxed her back to the table. I turned her around and bent her over it.

Going to my knees, I flipped her dress up and pulled her panties down and off of her. She spread her legs wide for me. She relaxed as I stood once more, dropped my pants, and pressed my cock, all five inches of it, into her pussy. I began seesawing in and out of her. She looked back at me and smiled. I took my time. I managed to give her an orgasm just as I came myself, a very rare event for us. She started to straighten up as I backed out of her, but I held her in place. No words were spoken. She relaxed once more.

"I knelt behind her, and gazed at her cunt; it oozed cum and pussy juice. I began cleaning her out with my tongue. I had never been so turned on in my life. She started to turn around and stand, but I pushed gently on her back wordlessly urging her to stay bent over and submit to me.

Watching her with him had been a self-revelation. A revelation that was still unfolding. I didn't know where it was going to go, or how it would end. But, whatever happened, it was sure that nothing would ever be the same between my wife and me again.

She shuddered as at least two more orgasms shattered her reserve. I helped her back up and kissed her deep and hard. As I broke the kiss, she gently pushed me back a little. She looked deep into my eyes. Her expression intense, confused, questioning.

?"Roger, what's happening to us?" she said.

"Damned if I know. Honestly. I have to think. What I am sure of right now is that we are not done. Let's go to bed," I said.

We fucked three more times that night. The one thing I can claim without a fear of contradiction is my staying power: stamina I had, more than most guys for sure. That said, I'd always had a problem getting her off. I didn't know if it was the length of my dick or the way I brushed her clit or what, but I could screw her all night and never get her off. She did make it on rare occasions, but only on rare occasions and on those nights she was more exhausted than I was; like she was the one that made it happen not me. At any rate, on this night, we fell asleep in each other's arms satisfied, and I'll be damned if I knew where all of this would end.

******

"Say that again," he said. "I mean I want to hear it all again because I don't believe it,"

"I don't blame you. I don't believe it either. But it's true. Roger was turned on, crazy turned on, from seeing you screw me. I have to tell you; he was better than you. This time he was better than you. He doesn't have your equipment, but Jesus did he have enthusiasm," she said.

He was slowly shaking his head from side to side. "The upside of all of this? said Rodney.

"The obvious upside, Rodney my dear, is that we don't have to worry about him outing us to your wife or kicking me to the curb," said, Jane.

"Dare I have the temerity to ask what's next?" he said.

"Frankly, I haven't a clue. I think the best course, for now, is for me to give him some time, a little space and let him find his equilibrium. Then, and only then, hint at some games of one kind or another. And before you ask me, no, I have no clue what game to suggest to him," she said. He nodded.

"Jane, no disrespect, I like the guy; but is it possible that our Roger is some kind of wimp?" he said. She smirked.

"I don't think so, but I really do not know. This is all so off the charts-I just don't know," she said.

"And us?" he said.

"We'll have to cool it for a while," she said. "But, I think that if we're careful-and I mean careful and patient-this may work for us, and maybe him too. It's worth a try." He nodded his agreement.

"Okay, just keep me in the loop. You know I love you, and I need you as much as he does."

"It shall be so," she said.

******

I was back at work Monday, and I was early. I wasn't giving anybody the slightest of reasons to fire me, remote as I was sure that possibility was. Plus, I wanted to make sure the guy who was helping my wife cuckold me wouldn't feel threatened. I knew his wife would destroy him if he were outted, but in that case I would without a doubt lose my job and I'd be screwed over too. No, I had to just put up with their shit and keep on keepin' on.

"I'd be ignoring their little liaisons in the future. I just hoped she wouldn't be rubbing my nose in it. I didn't think she would be, but who knew for sure.

I was tending to the report I was putting together for the quarterly sales figures when he came up to me.

"How's it going, Rog," said Rodney.

"Okay, almost done. I'll have the report on your desk by day's end," I said.

"Good, good. I need them for my report to the big boss," he said. I nodded.

"But on another note, we okay? You and me?" he said.

"Sure, I guess so. You?" I said.

"Yes, yes, of course, but you know… " he said.

"Mister Silver, I'm not going to make any waves. But-if you do her in the future, I'd appreciate it if you were discreet. It would be kinda humiliating if others… " my voice trailed off.

"Rog, you have nothing to worry about. I can promise you that," he said. I noted he hadn't said he wouldn't be screwing her, but he hadn't said he would be either. Just that I didn't have anything to worry about. I nodded.

******

For the next two months I was more than sure that I was the only one to use her cunt. Could I have been wrong about that? Maybe, but not likely. I worked where he did, and he was available to me the entire day. And since I went home immediately after work each day, and she was there when I got there each day, I don't know when she could have slipped out to him. Maybe lunch hours, but that would have been a helter skelter thing, and not too satisfying for either of them. No, she was cooling it for a while at the least. But then all of my thinking on the subject came to naught. She told me she was going to him. Nothing like being up front about things I suppose.

Yes, I was startled. Who wouldn't have been? And, oh, she was dressed very nicely.

"Honey, I'm-I'm going to be seeing Rodney tonight. Please don't wait up," she said. I will make it up to you tomorrow. Okay?" I just stared, but said nothing. I turned my back on her and left the room

I went up to our room. I laid down and tried to sleep even though it was only 7:00PM. I heard her car start up and then I was alone.

I analyzed my situation some more. It had been my primary occupation ever since the day at the picnic. I had hoped that maybe the sex we'd been having had been enough; and, it had never been better. I know that was true for the both of us. But, for some damn reason, good was evidently not good enough. Was his cock supersize? Did he have that much more staying power than me; I doubted that. Did he smell better? Was he more romantic? What the fuck was it that made my wife willing to fuck him and essentially rub my nose in it like she did tonight?

Oh, I was sure, that she was of the opinion that she was just being honest and up front with me. But, her just informing me that she was going to go to him; well, that is the very definition of rubbing my nose in it. And that was the one thing that might end us, none of the consequences attendant to her activities or my risking dumping her withstanding.

I needed a drink. I got up, grabbed my coat, and headed for the liquor store. I pulled into the lot, and changed my mind. I headed for the Roundtrip, my favorite watering hole, instead. It had been a while since I'd been in, I twern't much of a barfly. But, tonight was special; well, I saw it as special. My wife didn't know it, but she had just declared our marriage open.

I hadn't had any strange since the day we'd said our vows fifteen years gone, and really a year and a half before that. But, now, at our common age of forty, I was seriously considering making the effort to find me some now. The odd thing? I wasn't even all that mad. I was sad, true enough, but not really angry. I loved my woman and the disappointment at her doing me like she was, was killing my heart, hence, my sadness.

I more or less surreptitiously surveyed my environs from my barstool. Mostly guys hanging out after a day at the plant. A couple of women were yakking with the bartender at the other end. There was a toy manufacturer nearby and I could tell from the logos on the work shirts of a dozen guys, half of them over by the pool table, that they worked there. I headed over to join the shooters. I put a couple of quarters under the overhang of the table's rails, nodding to the players, and waited for somebody to tell me it was my ups. I went back to the bar.

It was about twenty minutes later that I was called. The game was straight pool, my favorite, and it was call shot. I won the first game, but lost in game two. I hung around gabbing with the shooters for the next little while.

Everybody had a story to tell, and I told mine. Which by the way, was one of three just like it.

"Names, Nick, Nick Klaver," the guy said as he relinquished the table to the next up.

"Roger, Roger Carlyle," I said.

"So, you say your wife is out spreading for your boss," he said.

"Yeah she is," I said. She told me not to worry or wait up." Nick smiled.

"You thinkin' of doin' anything about it? Maybe getting' some strange of your own or divorcing her?" he said.

"I don't know. Yeah," I said, "maybe yeah."

"You want a little help in that regard?" said Nick.

"Help? What kind of help?' I said. There was that smile again.

"Be here tomorrow same time. I think I just might have a possible solution to your problem," he said.

Just then we were interrupted as a lady. It was a younger lady, maybe thirty-five,and pretty came up to us.

"You ready to go, Nick?" she said.

"Yeah, I am," he said. He turned to me one more time.

"Tomorrow, 9:00PM," he said. And he was gone.

******

I was home at around midnight-thirty. She was there too: upstairs changing. I came into the room and was met with a quizzical glare.

"And you've been where all this time?" she said. I had to smile. I mean the hypocrisy of it, the question.

"At the Roundtrip. Got a problem with that?" I said, more or less standing up for myself. She seemed to relax.

"No, I suppose not," she said.

"You suppose not? Hey, I'm an adult. I can do what I please, unless you know of some law that forbids it," I said. And, yes, I was being a little testy.

"But, since it's Q&A; time, may I ask, how did your fuck go tonight? Was it good. You know, satisfying?" I said.

"Look, Roger, Rodney is no threat to you or us. Okay. It's just a little playing on the side. And, for the record it's fairly rare, as I'm sure you have deduced," she said.

"You didn't answer my question?" I said, ignoring her analysis of what I knew.

"Yes, it was good, okay. No better than when you and I do it, but different. It's a matter of variety is all," she said.

"Well, okay then. I should tell you I did win twenty bucks at straight pool tonight. But, then, mores the pity, I lost it in the next Game. So, I guess it was sort of a good night for me too. I mean I did come out even if not actually ahead. You know kinda like my sex life, my marriage," I said.

She just glared at me. "Let's go to bed, she said finally. I'm tired and so must you be. It's late."

We went to bed, and surprise surprise she reached for my dick and it reacted traitorously. Stiff, as a five-inch long two-inch thick length of rebar, my little man reacted quite naturally to her sucking me off and swallowing it all. Oh, and the swallowing was a first!

"Well, that was a surprise," I said, seriously. She smiled.

"And there is plenty more where that came from since you are apparently being so understanding of my-activities," she said.

"Wait, wait, wait a minute. Are you saying that if I'm cool with you and him fucking up a storm that I will be rewarded? Is that what you're saying?" I said.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, young man," she said. I frowned, and then she did.

"What? What did I say?" she said, clearly wondering at my less than enthusiastic reaction.

"Well, and what If I'm not inclined to be reasonable. Then nothing for me? I can forget it? Is that what you're saying?" I said. She suddenly realized her faux pas.

"No, no, that is not what I meant. It's just that I do want you to be happy, and I thought… " she started.

"So, if I said to stop all of that stuff with him. You'd be okay with it; it wouldn't put an end to us or an end to my getting-what-rewarded?" I said.

"Roger, let me put it this way. No, my having sex with you is not conditional. Your tolerance, however, does inspire me to do more for you; well, like just now. Anyway, that said, I hope you will remain as tolerant as you have so far about my being with him on a 'rare' occasion," she said, emphasizing the word 'rare'. "Frankly, I have to say that I am surprised that you haven't gone off on me. And not just surprised, but grateful; I mean if I my say so."

"Yeah, right, tolerant that's me," I said, rolling over and going to sleep. I did have admit that the blow job had been state of the art, inspired by my wimpy ass tolerance or not.

******

I got there a little past eight. I'd broken it to her that I would be going out just as we'd finished eating.

"I'm gonna go play some more pool tonight, dear. I don't figure on being all that late," I said.

"You-going out-I mean you… " she started.

"Yeah, and thank you in advance for your tolerance," I said.

"Wha-huh?"

I had headed upstairs to get dressed. I didn't exactly dress to the nines, but I was significantly better dressed than I had been when I'd gone out the night before.

"You're wearing a tie to play pool," she said as I gave her a peck goodbye.

"Yeah," I said, and I was gone.

******

Nick was already there and standing in the midst of the pack of shooters waiting their turns and commenting on this or that shot as the occasion arose. I waved to him. He gave me a look and smiled.

He came up to me and waved me over to the bar. "Good to see you. I wondered if you were gonna show," he said.

"Yeah, well, I was curious," I said. "I mean as to how you figured to help me out of my situation. I gotta say so long as it isn't about breaking any law, I'm likely to be down for it,"

"No, no, nothing illegal," he said. "Got someone I want you to meet actually."

"Someone? A woman?" I said. I kinda half way figured it might be that.

"Hmm, yes, and a special woman if I may say so," he said.

"Hmm, I don't know. I mean, I am still hoping to save my marriage. I mean I know what I said Last night. But, heck I only met you last night let alone a new woman."

"And if you picked a woman up in a bar, you'd only have known her what, maybe even less than a couple of hours. Right?" he said. He had a point.

"Well, yeah, I guess that's so," I said.

"And this woman has been vetted, by me," he said. "And she is special."

"Special?" I said.

"Well, yeah," he said. "She's-well-she's my sister." All of a sudden I was losing interest fast. He saw my face fall and reacted.

"No, no. She's a princess, really," he said, "and very pretty."

"But? I hear a 'but' in there some place," I said. He looked away, looked back, and his demeanor morphed from almost desperate to determined. I was reintrigued

"Man, Roger, well-she's a prostitute. But! She'd give it up, the lifestyle that is, for the right guy," he said. I was suddenly unreintrigued.

"Look, Nick, I ain't castin' any stones, but… " I started.

"Man, just meet her. You can go to the bathroom and leave by the back door if it gets too uncomfortable," he said. He looked desperate again, so much so that I just shrugged and said okay.

She was five minutes late for the presumed 9:00PM meet up. She was smiling broadly and being the consummate pro coming up to me and offering me her hand to shake. It was the same girl that had come the night before to pick him up. We shook. "Very nice to meet you," she said.

"Very nice to meet you too," I said.

I motioned for the three of us to take our seats. This girl was a star if beauty had anything to do with it. George Gordon, Lord Byron had written a poem about her two hundred years before she was born: "She Walks in Beauty." I'd seen her the evening before, but then she'd been in ragged jeans and a t-shirt, hair in a bob, and no makeup. That was not the case now. She looked like a million bucks.

I was so glad I had dressed up some before coming to the meet. "Roger, I'd like you to meet Camilla, my sister," said Nick. And just like that I was launched on a path that I had no business being launched on. But then again? Well, maybe this was fate.

The talk went on for some little while. No mention of Camilla's job. I wondered if she knew that her brother had outted her to me. It didn't matter an iota to me; I was fucking well reintrigued-again.

After the second round of drinks, Nick made his excuses, and I was more than grateful that he did.

"Like to change the venue?" I said.

"Sure, I guess," she said. The girl always seemed to be half smiling.

******

I took us to the Starfish, a seafood place with a mellow atmosphere, a piano man that was in to romantic classics.

"Nice choice," she said. "Come here often?"

"Used to, but since my wife; well, since my wife has kinda gotten into some things, not so much."

"Too bad," she said. "So you and your wife are on the outs?" she said. "My brother clued me about your situation." I nodded.

"Hard to say, but it looks like we're done. I'm having her served this coming week. Seems like she needs more than I can deliver, or maybe it's just variety that she's after as she told me. I need a one man woman," I said.

"So there it was. I'd laid it out there for her to pick up and run with it. She, Camilla, was most definitely not a one man woman. I mean by definition a prostitute was anything but.

She started laughing. Almost like she couldn't contain herself. "I said something funny?" I said.

"Well, kinda, yes," she said. "I know my brother told you some stuff. And one of the things that he told you was my career choice. Right?" she said. I know I was red faced.

"Yeah, kinda," I said.

"Look, Roger, I'm divorced. I'm thirty-seven. My man dumped me for an eighteen year-old budding model. I took up escorting to pay the bills: an old friend of mine is in the business, and I'm good looking enough to do okay at it, so I do. But, if I ever marry again, I will be a one man woman for the man that I marry.

"Now, I know we have just met, so all of this talk about marriage and one man women is way over the top and premature, but it does have the virtue of being out of the way and done with.

"Now, we can get on with having a good time, and you can get on with wondering how long it's going to be before you get to bed me. Oh, and it won't be tonight. You're not a customer, and I'm not in the habit of spreading for each and every guy I date. That all okay with you?" she said. I nodded.

"Yes it is. And frankly, I am more than glad that we got all that stuff out of the way too. And, I will be thinking about the other thing as well," I said. She smiled and giggled; she knew what I was referring to.

"So what do you do? Nicky didn't say much except that you might be available to date and that you seemed a serious guy," she said. "So who are you really?"

"Okay, all fair questions. I'm third man at Silver and Silver Industries. We manufacture housewares of various types. The pay's okay and the benefits high end. Been doing it since getting out of college a thousand years ago," I said.

"A thousand years ago? You don't look all that old," she said, laughing.

"No, I'm soon to be forty-one. Married-for now-no kids, pretty much debt free, and planning on moving on with my life if we divorce which, like I said, seems to be more than likely," I said.

******

I'd told Jane that I would not be especially late. That turned out to be inaccurate. It was after 2:00AM before I trudged up the stairs to our bedroom, undressed, fell half dead into bed-well, four manhattans do things to a man. Oh, and Jane? She wasn't home.

She wasn't home when I fell into bed, but she was home within fifteen minutes of that eventuality. She turned on the light of the forty watt lamp on the bureau.

"When did you get in?" she said. She'd sensed that I was still awake. I'd decided to be straight with her. I would not lie to her.

"Just a little while ago," I said. "Got to talking to folks and time got away from me." I saw her nod.

"How was your evening?" I asked.

"Okay, same as last night," she said, answering thereby my unasked question. So she'd been fucked again. Fucking wonderful. But, on the upside, I didn't come to the gunfight unarmed.

"Hmm. I met a woman," I said. "It may lead somewhere. You know, like you and Rodney." I got a look for that announcement.

"Roger?" she said, and stopped.

"Yes?" I said.

"Are we all right? You into something that maybe I should know about?" she said.

"No, nothing yet," I said. "Like I say. I don't know what the future holds. I just know I'm not into sharing my wife with other men. But, if I have no choice, I am going to be getting some of mine back," I said. I said it, but I regretted saying it almost as soon as I did in fact say it. She began to cry.

She fell down on the floor. I went to her, sank to the floor bedside her, and did my best to console her.

"I never meant for us to br-break up," she said. "I was just funnin'."

"It's okay. We'll be all right. But…"

"No, no I'm giving up Rodney," she announced. "He's history. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, okay, good," I said. "We'll be fine."

******

Now I had a problem. I was sorta taken with Camilla. But, did I want to break up a fifteen year marriage to my wife? No, I didn't think so. Oh, she'd given me reason to end us. Oh yes she had. But, people do dumb things especially in relationships; I knew that, and I was empathetic with those who did.

I had decided to end my not yet launched relationship with Camilla before it began. We had a date; well, we were to meet up at the bar five days hence; I'd do it, end it face to face then. But then something happened that made me switch my position yet again, at least maybe switch it.

It was two days after my discussion with Jane. I got into work a little earlier than usual to find the boss already in and gabbing with Carl Hendricks, his media man, read computer specialist. They didn't see me. I turned down the corridor away from them, but then I heard my name.

"Yes, Roger'll be happy now. She called me yesterday and broke it off with me. It's okay. She was a good piece, but not irreplaceable," said Rodney Silver.

"Yeah, she was a good piece. I've had her a few times. She likes the bigger weenies though, and I'm kinda at the back of the line with only six-inches. Ah, but six very thick inches if I do say so," said Carl. The two of them laughed.

"Yeah, well if he ever finds out how widely she spreads her net; it won't be pretty," said Rodney. I didn't quite run to hide in my office, but close. I had to think. I had to plan or something. Yes, something. A clueless cuckold I'd been, but was no more.

I managed to get through the day without messing up to terribly bad. But the good news was that I was finally making some decisions. One, I would keep my date with Camilla all right, and I wouldn't be breaking it off with her. Hell no, I wouldn't. Two, I would be doing my best to discover just who the team members were that were banging my wife. Three, I was going into defense mode financially. This last was going to take some planning. But, I was not going to be letting the courts ruin me if I could at all help it, and I was pretty sure, well hopeful, that I could.

As for good 'ole Rodney Silver, I had a really good idea for that church going, mealy mouthed, fuckwad of a hypocrite. Oh yeah, this was going to be really fun. Might get me in trouble, but at the least it was going to be mucho worth it. Oh yeah.

******

In my position as number three at the firm, I was more than well paid. That had been one of, if not indeed the biggest reason, that I had not gone off on them in the first place. I was about to utilize that large income of mine to protect myself; something I should have done in the first place, but, water long passed under the bridge, I hadn't, and now here we were.

A PI was the first thing on my agenda. I budgeted twenty grand for operation "get the dirt," and I was more than sure it would be money well spent. His name was Howard Morning: fifty-eight, ex-cop, two bad divorces, and dedicated to helping husbands get justice.

"So you can do it: get the stuff I'll need?" I said.

"Sure bet. Give me a couple of weeks, a month at most. If she's actively cheating, I mean now. She's probably actively bragging about it; they almost always do. I mean to other girlfriends. I have an operative that will do the job with relish. You'll meet her in due time," said my new friend.

"And the guy too?" I said.

"Even easier. If he's actually carrying on water cooler conversations with coworkers about his conquests, I'm gonna almost feel guilty about exploiting the dumb ass," said Howard. I smiled, I nodded, I was filled with glee.

It turned out that Howard's methods were not only effective they were fast. It didn't take him a month or even two weeks. It took him just ten days.

******

A week and a half later, I got the call. I went to his office at lunch time. It, his office, being only two miles from my own was a bonus as far as I was concerned.

It turned out that Jane had indeed kept her word to break it off with my boss. It also turned out that she had been carrying on, at two different local bars, with any number of one night stands. Well, three during the ten days so far covered by my watchdog. I had audio, I had video, and I had pics. I had names and addresses and witnesses. And that was just the stuff on her.

It also turned out that mister Silver played in several sandboxes himself. He had two-count 'em-full time girlfriends who thought that they were his one and only. And, he had several occasional chickees too young for him to take seriously. Elder bother Silver and missus Rodney Silver were going to get the whole package, but that a little later rather than sooner.

I made the decision to keep Howard on the payroll for the full thirty days. Who knew what else he might turn up. Maybe drugs, missing funds at the store, whatever. They fucked me over, now it was my turn.

******

I was kinda disappointed, but then again maybe not. Howard got a ton more evidence during the next three weeks, but it was all pretty much just repeats of the first ten days. During the thirty day period, Jane had fucked around on me seven separate times with seven different studs all picked up at bars during the day; well, at least she didn't have an ongoing relationships in the works-yet… Howard was able to find out that she did indeed always demand that her dates use condoms; how fucking considerate of her.

Rodney baby, during the same period, had dumped one of his serious relationships and seemed to be getting ready to make a move on his wife in favor of the remaining piece of strange. I had a decision to make. I made it.

I was going to go the 'scorched earth' route. His wife, my wife, all of their relatives, everybody in sight was going to get the evidence. I scheduled it for a week from Friday, that is, a week after my next date with Nick's sister, Camilla. I did want to see how that went before the shit hit the fan; which it, with apodeictic certitude, most certainly would.

******

Camilla and I had dated several times in the five weeks since my meeting up with her, but we had not gotten it on, so to speak; that is, not so far. Interestingly Jane did not seem to have a clue about my new maybe permanent squeeze. I guess she was focused on other things-read other men.

At any rate, I had been building my confidence up in terms of making my move on Jane and her legion of knights in soiled armor. I was feeling good, in control.

******

She saw I was early, and she smiled. "You're early," she said.

"Yes, well, I have this really cute lady to meet," I said, looking at my watch and trying not to break out laughing.

"Funny," she said. Now I did laugh.

"Yeah, well, it keeps me from going nuts," I said.

"I'm assuming, that since you're here, and apparently happy, that things are not hunky-dory at home," said Camilla.

"You'd be assuming correctly," I said. She nodded. "See it a lot, I do. It is what it is, I guess."

"Yes, it is," I said. "But, let's not waste time messin' with any of that. I'm here to have fun. I'm just hopin' that that fun girl I'm waiting for will hurry up and get here," I said, dead panning.

"I think she just arrived," she said. I smiled.

Dinner was good, the dancing was nice, the conversation light: now, we were in the midst of a moment of silence.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said.

"I'll give 'em to you for free; I don't need the money," I said.

"Okay, I like rich men too," she said, laughing.

"Well, I was just thinking that I wish I had etchings to show you," I said. Now she burst into gales of laughter. I smirked.

"Okay, so I'm a little on the corny side. It is what it is," I said.

"Oh what the hell. Come on. Let's go to my place; it's nearby. You can fuck me there," she said. I was momentarily stunned, happily stunned, but stunned nonetheless. Her turn to smirk.

"I'm a woman. I'm allowed to change my mind," she said.

Twenty minutes later she was on her back, and I was drilling her for all I was worth. I stiffened and she stiffened and I collapsed on top of her. I rolled off.

"That was good," I said.

"I'd say so," she said. "Any more stuff left in your squirt gun?"

"I sure as hell hope so. Any chance you might be willing to help me find out?" I said.

"Damn straight," she said.

She sat on my chest back to me and played with my instrument of procreation. It twitched. It stiffened. It threatened her womanhood. She rolled onto her belly, splayed her legs, and waited for me to take her from behind. I accommodated her. I took my time. What can I say; I loved the feeling.

******

The day of reckoning arrived, and I had misgivings. This was going to hurt her, but I was for sure going to be emotional collateral damage at the very least.

It was 9:00AM; I punched the enter key and the stuff went out-to half of the universe-that is to one hundred and fourteen separate and specific e-addresses. By sundown, I was pretty sure that there would be a mafia contract out on my person.

I left work ten minutes after the send. I had already packed up everything that mattered to me and gotten it out of the building. I headed for the Roundtrip. By 11:00AM my cell started going off almost constantly. I waited for the one I was sure would come from her. I was disappointed; she never called. And why not, you might be inclined to ask? Because at 12:13PM she plopped down on the bar stool next to mine.

"I got the news about half an hour and a half ago. You're buying the drinks," she said.

"Sure bet," I said. "Hope your next lover will be up to Rodney's standards."

"Funny. But, no, no more playing around on you. No, you're going to have to up your dicksmanship; or, go to plan B and pay me a helluva lot of alimony. Your choice," she said.

"Hmm, you've got balls of brass coming in here and threatening me," I said.

"Roger, whatever else you may think, threatening you is not what I'm doing-really," she said. "I love you, and as your wife, I am letting you know what you have to do, to consider, for us to move on. I'm giving you your best options as it were.

"I deserved what you did to me, Roger. I know it. It was my selfishness that destroyed me today and made me the laughingstock of our little village, not you outing me. I know it, like I said. But, now we have to move on. You love me, I know that too. And, for the record, believe it or not, I am proud of what you did," she said.

"What the fuck!" I said.

"Yes. What you did. It was all so well planned, thought out, and executed. Rodney and the others got what they deserved, just as I did. One thing though…

"Grandma? Why her? That was overkill, Roger. Next time, if there is a next time, kindly leave her name off of your list. I mean really. Okay," said Jane. I snickered, but I guess I had to agree with her on that one; grandma would be off the list.

I sat on that stool staring at her like she were from outer space. I started laughing. For the life of me I started laughing. This woman was one of a kind. Divorce her? Did I really want to? For damn sure she was going to be monumentally difficult to replace. I mean in the whole world how many might there be like her? Answer: damn few.

"I'll let you know," I said. She nodded.

"Good. I'll leave you alone now to cerebrate. Oh, and I've already got beef stew in the slow cooker for tonight. Try to be home before six o'clock, okay?" she said.

I gave her a wave that spelled maybe, but I think we both knew I'd be home by six. Well, she did make the best beef stew in the county. And her pussy was pretty high test too if it came to that. But, then, there was my half assed commitment to Camilla.

I loved Jane, no question. But, Jane had fucked me over. But, she hadn't really done it because I was inadequate or really because she wanted someone better me. It had been a matter of variety, I supposed, as she had told me. And, I was of the opinion that she did indeed love me and only me. But, then again, there was Camilla: how did I feel about her? Love? Like? Lust? Curiosity? I honestly didn't know, but I'd be finding out and making some decisions.

******

Okay, I had a major decision to make. My wife was a roundheeled slut with really high end cooking skills. She probably did love me, and I sure as hell loved her. But, trust was a major issue. In the end if I couldn't get around that one it was going to be a deal breaker for damn sure.

I was at the house at six minutes past six.

"Good you came. I was a little worried that you wouldn't," she said.

"I keep my word, Jane, which is more than some people can claim," I said. She frowned.

"Let's have a drink before dinner, okay?" she said.

"That'd be a winner in my book, I said. She smiled and we went into the den. She poured me my JD on the rocks and herself a glass of merlot.

"Got myself into a real mess, didn't I husband mine," she said.

"That would be a big ass affirmative," I said.

"Mind if I work at making you forget and forgive," she said. "I mean, I really want you, Roger. Not any of those one-night cowboys. They were never anything but diversions. It'll never happen again."

"Hmm, and I would know that how?" I said.

"I don't know, but I do know that if I sinned you'd know about it just like this time. Ergo, I will not sin," she said. I gave her a look that was meant to send the message that she was oh so right.

We talked about a couple of other things, and drinks consumed, we headed for the dinette. The slow-cooker was in the middle of the table and the contents thereof smelled real good. A bowl of steamed vegetables and a bottle of merlot flanked the cooker.

"You gonna give me a chance, Roger? I mean in spite of everything?" she said, as I bit into a chunk of roast beef and smiled.

"Good food," I said.

"Roogggeeerrrr!" she said.

"I don't know, Jane. I want to, but I want to be able to believe you more. So far you've burned me twice. Kinda hard to make a case that you won't fuck me over again if you know what I mean," I said. She deflated.

"What you say is kinda true, but I did break it up with Rodney; and he's the only one that could be described in any way shape or form as a relationship. And, even in his case it was only the sex, never anything serious. I think you know that too," she said.

"Actually, Jane, I do believe you on that score. But, I'm not talking about serious relationships here. I'm talking about you just plain cheating. That is, giving it away to men not your husband. I'm talking about the humiliation of others thinking that your husband is some kind of a wuss, a pussy who can't satisfy his wife. Do you have any idea how hurtful that is for a man? I mean to know that he's not enough for his woman and for everybody else to know it too? It's tremendously hurtful, Jane, big time hurtful. Are you getting this?" I said.

"Yes, sir, I am," she said. "But, Roger you are more than enough for any woman. Those other men were just cheap spur of the moment toys, useful for an hour and then to be cast aside. Even Rodney never had any real value as a partner. He was just convenient and pretty good at fucking. And if it matters, he never had your stamina. He was good at somethings, but he usually fell flat after maybe five or so minutes."

"Problem is, Jane, that you shouldn't even be able to compare the two of us. He shouldn't even be part of the equation, but he is. So are those other men. Mentally, you have to be comparing me with them every time you do one of them," I said "Tell me you didn't. Just tell me if you dare."

She looked away. "I guess that's so. The good news though, is that you always seemed to come out on top," she said.

"And, that, Jane, is a lie. I do not believe for a New York minute that I am better in bed than all of those men, your men. Maybe some of them; I'd accept that. But all you're doing here, now, is lying to make me feel better. Which, dear girl, is just another way to humiliate me. Which brings up another point, I would really appreciate the truth tonight, even if it's a little bit on the painful side for me. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered. "A couple of them were maybe better than you. But not that many, and that is the truth. And, well, one guy, just one, had a ten-inch dick. He wasn't all that good at using it, but it was an experience. He touched me in places I didn't know were there."

"Okay, good. At least some of this stuff you're laying out there has the ring of truth. There have been enough lies, Jane. Really more than enough," I said.

"Yes, sir," she said. "No more lies, no more cheating. Is that better?"

"Yes, if you're sincere," I said. Fact was I knew she was sincere. Fact also was I was not at all sure that she would remain faithful in spite of her wanting to at this point in time. She just liked cock too much to settle for one average one. She needed variety and the experiences that variety ensured.

"We'll talk again," I said. She nodded. I did not stay the night. I knew the rules per divorces. She did to. My lawyer was going to be upset enough when I recounted the evening's happenings.

******

Things started to settle down. I knew that in the short term, that Jane was going to be a good girl. But, longer? That was a my concern. I just didn't believe that she could do it. But I was in it for the one, big, last, old college try.

She'd been served, and now I was living separately but hardly that; we were together almost constantly. Oh, she'd asked me, begged me to move back in, but that wasn't happening until I was as sure as I could be that things were going to be cool. I did not want to snafu the divorce if I decided to finally to go that way.

At any rate after a couple of weeks of dating Jane, if that's what I was doing; and keeping up with Camilla on the side, who by the way knew the score because I'd told her, I hired Howard Morning for one more month. At the end of week three of mister Morning's second surveillance assignment, I was called in to his office.

His look told me all. "She's at it again isn't she?" I said.

"Yes, and with the old guy, Rodney Silver. I guess since his wife divorced him and him losing his job; well, I guess he decided that he may as well go for it, her, your wife," said Howard. "She's been real skittish, as you'll see on the tapes; but apparently a willing lover for all of that, and I mean lover not fuck buddy. They talk about you and it isn't real complimentary." Now I was mad.

"Okay, Howard, let me have what you've got. I'll dump it on her tonight. I have a burning need to dump it on her," I said. He nodded.

******

I was exiting the office when I saw him. He was standing by my car. I smiled. He, on the other hand, was not smiling. He leaned back against the driver's side door.

"Thought you were real smart huh, asshole," he said. Now, he was smiling.

"How the hell are you, Rodney baby? Hope all is well in Rodneyville," I said, I was smirking. "Now, if you don't mind standing away from my car. I want to go home."

"Why? To your loving wife? She'll be mine before this all plays out," he said.

"Hmm, she'd definitely be the loser if that were to happen," I said. "I mean when one gets right down to it, you really aren't much of a catch, Rodney old bud." He snickered.

"And you ain't much in bed," he said. "She's told me about your desperate attempts to, how shall I say it, measure up. Yes, that's the words she used, to measure up."

He started laughing and then he unloaded on me. I was caught completely by surprise. I think I flew six feet back from the first strike landing on my ass. I was down and he was kicking and stomping on me. Then everything was fine, no more pain, no more kicking, everything was fine. And then pretty girls were hanging over me. And then he was in jail. And then there was a trial. And then he was out on bail.

I'd spent four days in the hospital: three broken ribs, two missing teeth, and too many bruises and other trauma to count. Rodney was in jail for three days before he got bailed out. By who you may wonder? Why by my everlovin' wife; Howard had gotten that little piece of news for me; I hung up the phone, and, I hung it up angry. On the other side of the coin, my wife did visit me all four days I was laid up; how fucking wonderful is that! Still…

My wife bailing him out was a good thing on two counts; well, as far as I was concerned. One, it put an end to my wishful thinking as regards any attempt by me to get by her cheating. And two, it will have led to my winning the hand of Camilla. This last still had some scenes to play out, but it was definitely the goal.

******

She was home and cooking. "Hi, honey," she said. I plopped down on a stool in the kitchenette.

"Hello," I said. She looked me askance.

"Something wrong?" she said.

"Wrong? Not sure if that's the right term. Maybe betrayal-again-would fit a little better. Not sure," I said.

"Huh? What?" she said.

"You know, you bailing out the man who almost killed me for outing him to his wife," I said. She paled.

"Wha… " I just stared at her.

"Honey-I-I… " she ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She didn't actually slam the door to the bedroom, but she did kinda close it loudly. I made myself a drink.

It was a full two hours before she came down again. And, when she did, she was showered and clean dressed.

"You're looking real good," I said. "Going out?"

"No, this is for you. You deserve a clean woman."

"How about a faithful one," I said.

"That's what I want to talk about. You know I dumped Rodney some time ago, right?" she said.

"That's what you said," I said.

"Well, I did. But, I haven't forgotten what it was like with him. I always kinda felt like I'd treated him badly. So when I heard he'd been arrested…"

"You felt like you needed to help him out some way?" I finished for her.

"Kinda," she said.

"But, you had no feelings for me; I mean wanting to be faithful to me, did you?" I said. And, you fucked him didn't you?"

"Yes on both counts. I did feel I owed you faithfulness and I did fuck him-and-will again. But, no more sneaking around. You'll be my number one. But, well, once in a while I will be bedding him. You've done everything but castrate him, and yes I know what he did to you was just awful. But, you have to see it from his point of view. He was despairing and desperate and filled with angst and hate."

"His point of view. Like him having the cajones to fuck my wife behind my back. Him talking shit about you behind your back-and yes, I actually heard him tell someone else just how replaceable you were." Her look morphed from confident to not so confident.

"What pisses me off more than you bailing him, bailing out the guy who almost killed me is the fact that I never got that kind of consideration from you. He's your number one man, not me. Only the fact that Elise destroyed him has brought him back to your bed," I said.

She nodded her understanding of my words. "I knew you were thinking that way. Earlier when you told me you already knew about my bailing him out: I was, well, I was shocked. But not for the reason you think. I was shocked because I was going to out myself, and that tonight, but, you beat me to it," she said. "That put me in a bad spot."

"You were going to out yourself?" I said.

"Yes, I needed to prove to you that it is you that is number one not Rodney. And, I was going to do more than out myself. I was planning to offer you a deal." She took on a phony Godfather-mafioso accent. "I was going to make you an offer you couldn't refuse," she said, trying to smile.

I gave her a look that spelled suspicion. "Huh?" I said.

"And, I still am. That's why I was so long in coming back down here," she said. "Well, and the extra time I took to cry over a whole lot of spilt milk."

"Okay, the crying is pretty straight forward, but the rest of it?" I said.

"You see the way I'm dressed," she started.

"Yes, you look very nice. You said it was for me. But what…"

"Yes, I intend to fulfill every fantasy you ever had. I'm going to damn near smother you with love and affection. I intend to prove to you that not only are you number one, but that you are pretty nearly going to be the only one on my dance card.

"So whaddya say? You gonna give me a chance?" she said.

"Pretty nearly? What does that mean?" I said. She sighed.

"That's gonna be the hard part for you.

There'll be no sneaking around by me anymore, Rog. No more. I will do Rodney, or someone like him every once in a great while. Well, I do need the mega-dick on occasion, but only for the thrill of the moment, no emotional entanglements," she said. "I know that that might be hard for you in the beginning, but I think I know where you're at now."

"Where I'm at?" I said.

"Roger, I haven't been spying on you, but a friend of mine. Well, a friend of mine found out that you're dating a prostitute. Obviously it's not a matter of your woman getting it on with another man that bothers you, no, it's your insecurities that she might dump you for someone else. Otherwise you would be looking for some churchgoing woman that spreads only for you, not taking up with a prostie.

"It also explains in neon letters why you didn't go off on me when you caught Rodney and me in the park that day. You were hoping and maybe pretty sure that I would be faithful to you-in every important sense of the word-even if I did fuck your boss." I looked at her in disbelief.

"So you're going to be doing Rodney for money now?' I said, and I said it sarcastically. She smirked.

"No, of course not. He's a friend, and just a friend. A friend and I hope one who you'll have a little mercy on and try to help me get the charges dropped. Yes, he deserves to be punished for what he did to you. But, prison? No, Roger, you ruined him. And, I grant that what you did was not without cause, but you really did ruin him. He may never recover from that. And that should be his punishment and it's enough. Okay?" she said.

I had to admit that her argument had a certain logic to it. I was indeed dating a prostitute that was a true fact. Yes, Camilla had promised that her career on her back would end when she married, but would it. I apparently was not enough for Jane, would I be for a woman like Camilla either?

And, there was the fact that Camilla's playing for pay did not really upset me much; actually, it didn't upset me at all. So why should I be upset about Jane fucking Rodney on a rare occasion? Yes, she did have a logical argument in making her case. But, there was just one fly in the ointment that negated her otherwise indisputable arguments.

Camilla's faceless clients were not nearly the same thing as my wife fucking my ex-friend and boss. Oh no, not nearly the same thing. Add to that that there had to be an emotional attachment that Jane had with Rodney. If not she never would have bailed him out after he damn near killed me. She should have been horrified at what he did; and, following that do her level best to help me destroy him. I decided to point out these little flaws in her thinking to her.

I shook my head slowly from side to side. "No dice Jane. Camilla is not invested in any of her clients, and she has promised to give them up for the right man. You on the other hand are very invested in Rodney, and I mean emotionally. And, you refuse to give him up. I might indeed move to the front of the line now that Rodney is broke and sucking hind titty. But, the best I could hope for, even being at the front of the line, would be fairly enthusiastic mercy fucks. That's not good enough. No, dear heart, and you are still that to me, we will be going ahead with the divorce and I will be getting on with my life whether with Camilla or someone else. Just not with you," I said. She sighed.

"Well, I had to take my shot," she said. "Friends?"

"I can do that," I said. "But more than that just won't be happening."

"And, putting in a recommendation for leniency, I mean not pressing charges… " she said.

I smiled. Her agenda was becoming clearer with every syllable she uttered. Her shot was actually two shots. One to guarantee herself a more substantial standard of living than she could expect with Rodney in first place. And two, to get me to intervene with the D.A. to cut Rodney some slack.

She failed per number one, and number two seemed to be slipping from her grip. I made a decision.

"Okay, Jane, I'll see what I can do to help your loverboy, and it's against my better judgment. But, you owe me," I said. And, he pays all of the doctor bills without a whimper.

I knew that mister Silver was facing five to ten. I would ask D.A. Mortensen to lighten up. Of course I had no idea if my saying anything would do any good, but I'd make the effort. I'd make it because I'd told her I would.

******

After having gotten the news about my wife bailing out her asshole lover; and, after our discussion on the matter and our breakup, I'd gone ahead and talked to the D.A. He said he'd think about it.

It was a week later that I got the news. Mister Silver would be serving a year and a day. He'd have a felony record but he could be out in eight or nine months with good behavior.

I got a letter from Jane thanking me effusively for helping her lover out. From Silver himself? Nothing. But, I hadn't expected anything.

Now it was time to get on with things. I subjected Camilla to a ferocious two minute offense. I hit her from every direction at once and her defenses crumbled like the walls of Jericho.

We were married three weeks after my divorce was final.

And Rodney and Jane. I know they date. Will they marry? It's six to five and pick 'em. And, it is none of my business.

-----------------------------

   Series:Rueben and Jemima Colson
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Maybe polyandry would have been a useful idea.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/76033/rueben-and-jemima-colson
Published:2014-03-07
I watched as she walked off with the other man. I felt as though I had died. She'd had my heart, my soul, my very being and now-nothing. I had nothing: no heart no soul, no being. I was breathing and that was all-and that was overrated.

******

Who are we, were we? I'm Rueben Colson, most recently the husband, and, as I thought, the love of Jemima Colson's life. The "most recently" referred to having been but five minutes ago. Five minutes ago, she had come to me, in the dim light of the bar and told me she had fallen for another man, and that she wanted a divorce. Stunned, disbelieving, destroyed: yeah, that was me.

We'd met at the Horse's Head at her request. It was almost next door to where she worked as a receptionist at the local phone company. I had assumed she wanted to have dinner there after she got off-with me. Well, one can imagine my surprise having learned of her real reason for us to meet.

As she spoke, her eyes clouded as she fully realized the devastation she had wrought upon me. And, as indicated, devastated I was.

"I'm sorry, Rueben. I wish, well, I wish that there had been another way," she said. She brought her hand to her lips, touched my cheek with that same hand; then, she had risen from the little table, that separated us in the bistro, turned and left. About halfway to the exit a man had joined her. He took her hand and led her out. The other man? I had no idea, but quite obviously it was the man that she'd decided to dump me for.

For my part I continued to sit and think, well, I thought that I was thinking. But, maybe not. But, I was breathing and therefore technically alive, and well, breathing; I guess there's an upside to everything.

******

One upshot of having been dumped by my wife was the undeniable truth that my life became infinitely simpler. I no longer had to worry about whether or not I'd left the kitchen clean or the bed made-that had been my job-and as well, most of my weekends were now free to do with as I pleased. Nobody to see. This last mainly because all of our friends were really her friends, and invites to anything would no longer be coming my way.

I was lonely of course. I mean no close friends, no place to go except my favorite bar: The Cloister, which was near to 'my' place of employment. I did have my job. But, as the sole accountant for Peters Distributing Inc. I had no real interaction with the other nineteen employees; all of whom were engaged either in operations of, or the distribution of, the company's produce-primarily dry goods to supermarkets and dry goods outlets around the southern part of the state.

Ralph Peters, my boss and the owner of the company, knew of my marital problems and was empathetic. In sympathy, he doubled my workload. Said it would help me cope. Said he'd been through it and knew the game. I had to allow that he'd been right about that, helping me cope it did. Still, I was more than gassed by each day's end his rightness notwithstanding. I think I was going blind from dealing with all of the little numbers and symbols and legalistic tripe covering the double screen of my state of the art online system. But, as to that, it may in reality have had more to do with the endlessly incipient tears clouding my vision than with the little symbols and bugs on my screens.

I held up my glass for a refill by Phil, Phil Sutter, my friend and head pharmacist at the Cloister.

"Need some more medicinal support big fella?" asked Phil. I nodded.

"Yeah, make this my last, Phil, but make it a double. I'll drink it slow and with feeling," I said. He smirked.

"Yeah, well, just don't start singing again," he said. "I don't deserve that. Okay?"

"Promise," I said. He left and returned with a double shot a Beam Rye and set it down in front of me. I loved this guy. Maybe he'd marry me, I thought. At least, if "he" dumped me I wouldn't give a shit. Hey, there's an upside to everything as I kept telling myself. Problem was, I was having a whole lot of trouble identifying any upside to Jem's dumping me.

I was sipping my rye and silently crying over the spilt milk of my life when Phil returned to my end of the bar. He took a phone call on the back bar and looked to be a little miffed by whatever was said on the other end of the line. Hanging up, he looked over at me sitting maybe four or five feet away.

"Hey, Rueben, feel like becoming a bigger loser than you already are?" he said; he did kinda smile when he said it.

"Huh? What? What are you talking about?" I said.

"We need a sixth," he said. "Randy Dalton just begged off." He nodded toward the phone he'd most recently been speaking into.

Huh? What? A sixth?" I said. Still not getting it.

"Got a game tonight. Some old fashioned poker. Wanna play? It's a hundred dollar buyin and if you lose it all you can't refinance. It's how we manage to keep the game friendly, nobody ever loses their pink slip if you get my drift," he said. I looked up at him standing there.

"What the hell, nobody's invited me to anything since Jem left me. And, a chance to become an even bigger loser than I already am? Hell yes, how can I turn down an opportunity like that. Count me in," I said. "Maybe at game's end I'll be able to interest Guinness with my credentials."

"Yeah maybe," he said. "I'm off at seven; game starts at eight. You can follow me over."

The venue was Cal Westly's place. It was a four bedroom, single story ranch style about a mile from the bar. We were the last to arrive except for Jim Spencer. Jim's shift at Montgomery's Grocery, where he was a clerk, ended at eight straight up.

The other players, Rob Callaway, Clyde Metzler, and of course Cal's wife Angela, were already there when we arrived.

Introductions made, Angela brought in a couple of trays of snacks for the assembled gambleers. One and all were profuse in their thanks to her, especially since she had one helluva rack. I wondered if maybe Angela was Cal's secret weapon in the game. For sure it was pretty darn hard to keep one's eyes focused on the cards while she was meandering around the table.

Seeing Angela, and noting her devotion to her hubby, brought to my mind my soon to be ex-wife's lack of devotion to me. Okay, I was jealous.

The play went on into the wee smalls. When all was said and done, I had a half dozen new friends, and a remainder of twelve dollars and seventy-five cents out of the hundred I'd started with. But, the game had been cathartic at least for the short run. A couple of the guys had stories not unlike my own. All of which did reduce the degree of pain I had been beset with since Jemima had dumped me.

******

"I think you destroyed him," said Richard-Ricky-Jones; officer jones of our local constabulary as I would later discover. She gave him a hard look, as he continued to undress.

"I'd rather not dwell on it. Okay," said Jemima Colson. She mounted the bed and spread her legs wide for the man just as he kicked his underpants off to the side.

"Okay, okay," he said. "I didn't mean anything by it." She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Just get up here and screw me. I need you inside of me." He smiled and did as she asked.

Mounting her he let his penis slap haphazardly at her slit. He laughed while her expression bespoke impatience.

"Now! she said.

"Okay, okay, just teasing," he said. "Sheesh! Touchy tonight." He pushed into her.

"Ugh!" she said. "Good, that's good. Now screw me."

He lay on top of her seesawing in and out of her for some minutes. She lay passive and submissive as he mastered her.

"Faster," she gasped, she was close and he knew it. He began to pummel her fiercely.

She sputtered little noises and squeaks as she came. Spittle dribbled and bubbled from the side of her mouth as she was caught in the avalanche of a shattering climax.

He stiffened and loomed virtually paralyzed above her as a sea of his semen painted her insides. Finally, he collapsed on top of her, lay still for a brief moment, and rolled off to her right.

Heavy breathing was all that could be heard for the next minutes.

"Good?" he whispered as his breathing normalized.

"Yes. Good," she said. "That's what I needed. Yes." He smiled and let his eyes close. She rolled onto her side away from him, her shapely buttocks and the pussy lips that separated their globes a mess of cum and sweat. They'd shower later and then go out to dinner. It was still early.

******

Coincidences are not something that I much believe in. But, it seems every time I think such sacrilegious thoughts, I am proven wrong. This was one of those times.

I was sitting behind a pillar in the Horse's Head. The two of them had just come in but did not see me. I was blocked, visually, from them and they from me, but not from hearing them.

The bathrooms were to my right and I knew that there was a back door by which I could escape without being seen, well, it was unlikely that they would see me or recognize me since I would be with my back to them as I moseyed out.

I was just getting up to risk it when I heard my name mentioned. I sank back onto my seat to hear what I could hear. Might be interesting, I mean since I was likely gonna the subject to of the conversation.

"I hear he comes in here sometimes to avoid his friends at the Cloister. Hear tell he's still crying in is beer about you dumping him, and it was starting to get old over there," said Richard Jones.

The waitress interrupted his speech taking their orders. She, the waitress, passed me on the way to the kitchen.

"Yes, well it is what it is," said my not quite yet ex-wife. "If he is crying in his beer, well, that was part of the problem I had with him."

"Really?" said Richard.

"Yes. He's such a wimp. If he didn't get things exactly as he thought they should be, he wouldn't fight for his cause; he'd just cry or whine. I just got fed up. No guts that's my ex. I need a man, somebody with a little intestinal fortitude; Rueben Colson ain't it," she said.

"And, he can't dance!" laughed Richard. She giggled her agreement with the man's remarks.

"No, he can't dance worth a lick either," she said, now breaking out in gales of laughter herself.

"You're good at that kind of stuff. You could have taught him," said Richard.

"Truth is I didn't want to. If I had, we'd have likely gone out more, and his social skills were less than wonderful. There was just no upside to the guy," she said.

"You know, we've talked about it before, but you've never really answered me," he said.

"What?' she said.

"Why did you even marry the guy in the first place?" said Richard. "Come on, give?" I could hear her snicker.

"Truth is I don't really know. He was okay looking I guess though maybe a little on the short side. But, he did the one thing I was looking for at the time," she said.

"And that was?" he said.

"He asked me. I was ready, and he asked me first. I know it sounds stupid. But, it was what it was. I was twenty and feeling old. And yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds now, but that was then," she said.

The man laughed.

I had to allow that she was at least partly right. I had been ready to slink out like the wimp she thought me. Now, that was no longer an option. I threw a twenty on the bar, stood, turned, and walked around to where my detractors were making fun of me.

They didn't notice me immediately, staring at them, as they continued laughing. Then they did, notice me that is.

"Rueben! Wha… " said Jemima. I remained silent, but not wimpy silent, but angry silent.

"Oh what? You're going to cry," said Jemima. Her boyfriend smirked his contempt but offered no words.

I shook my head slowly. "No," I said. Then, I turned and walked off and out of the place. I heard them talking animatedly as I exited.

******

The divorce was final some four months after that night at the Horse's Head.

One thing that the night in question prompted me to do was to return to my regular haunt at the Cloister. She'd, they'd, been right about that. I had kinda avoided the place because of the sadness that had overwhelmed me, and it had. That and hearing the barroom regulars commiserate with me endlessly. I'd be asking them to lighten up in the future. I had a life to get back to.

I did finally ask the group two nights later to lighten up. They did, and things went along okay for a while. Then, it happened: the second worst night of my life.

Her asshole lover, now husband-yes, they'd gotten married about two weeks after the divorce was final-had got her pregnant. The babies name was Sadie, so I was told by some who knew the two of them as well as me.

It shouldn't have, but the news that my rival, my successful rival, had fathered a child by the former love of my life, killed my heart yet again. Sadie should have been mine. I guess I'd been kidding myself: I still wasn't over her-Jemima. I began to wonder if a man could ever get over something like that, like what had happened to me. If I'd been asked at that moment, I would have said no.

And then, if that had not been enough, she, my ex, had the opportunity to rub my nose in it yet again; and, she didn't hesitate. It'd been almost a year and a half since our breakup.

I was in the supermarket, the same one we'd patronized while married, getting some stuff that I needed to get by for the rest of the week. I was pushing my cart around the corner of aisle fifteen when I accidentally bumped into her.

"What the… " she started. I know my look initially must have spelled shock. But, then I started to go red in the face; I could feel it. She picked up on it.

"Jesus, Rueben, are you ever going to man up and get over your insufferable 'achy breaky heart'," she said. "So we broke up. So what? It happens to a lot of people. Get a life."

"I-I-I… " was my brilliant response. Her look said it all-utter contempt. I sputtered something; I don't remember what. I left my groceries in the aisle and walked out. No, that's not right. I all but "ran" out of the store. And, yes, I know how pathetic I must have seemed to her. I was sure that mister and missus Jones would have a big assed laugh that night, and that at my expense. Jesus! I felt low-again. It would be a long time before I saw any of them again; and, when I did, things were going to get really-really complicated.

******

"Jesus, Richard," she laughed. "I feel kinda bad for him. I all but laughed in his face when I saw him. I mean talk about a deer caught in the headlights. He actually started to cry. Then I told him to man up and to stop being such a wimp or words to that effect. He left his stuff, his groceries, just abandoned them, and ran out."

"Well, he is a wimp, obviously. Lots of people get divorces and get along good afterwards. He needs to too. But, I don't blame him for wanting you. I mean I do for sure. You leaving him had to kill the guy.

"Look next time we see him we're gonna be cool. Treat him with a little respect, not much, just a little," he laughed. "You know so he won't feel so bad. Okay?"

"Yes, I think you're right. But, the little shit does need to man up and act like a real man and not such a pussywhipped little twerp. I mean really," she said.

"Yeah, well, you've got me pussywhipped," he said smiling.

"Yes, but you're different, a different kind of pussywhipped because you know I need you just as much," she said.

"Yeah, I guess that's so," he said.

******

The four seasons came and went as is their habit-ten sets of them. I was thirty-five years old. Doing okay on the job. Still single. Had gotten myself a nice little two bedroom with a small yard in town. Paid my taxes. And, by most standards was doing good generally. Social life? Not much to tell. Didn't date but on rare occasions. Sex? Mostly I'd forgotten what the real thing was like. I had purchased the services of a few ladies of the evening on occasion but apart from that, pretty much nada.

Put another way I was spinning my wheels at least emotionally.

I was sitting in the Commodore, a small bar, a hole in the wall really, but well run. I'd been hanging out there more and more in recent times; it's sawdust atmosphere kinda suited me. Not as nice at the Cloister or the Horse's Head, but again, it suited me. Charlie Weston, the barkeep, was young but sympathetic with everyone's problems. He knew me as pretty much always in my cups and mostly in a melancholy state; ergo, he almost always threatened to take my keys if I had more than two drinks. I loved Charlie. He was caring.

"This is it or you're getting a cab," said Charlie.

"No problem, I'll be heading out in a few," I said. He nodded and went back to grinding glassware with his towel.

I finished my third shot, threw a ten spot on the bar-the drinks were cheaper at the "C"-and headed out.

******

As I drove I commiserated with myself yet again. I wondered what she was doing, and their kid too-Sadie as I now recalled her name to be, was eleven years-old, I knew.

I decided I needed some stuff for dinner for the next few days. I stopped at a convenience store that I knew of on my way; well, it was convenient. Right at that moment convenience trumped price: I was feeling the three shots of rye.

"Yeah, thanks," I said as I headed out of the store. A Latino guy maybe fifteen maybe twenty, I could never tell a Latino's age worth a damn, was loading a couple of cases worth of beer into the back of his lowrider. My car was a row closer and two or three spaces to the right of his. A young girl, maybe ten years old walked between us carrying her purchases in two plastic grocery bags.

I was nearing my car just as the girl passed in front of me heading to my right likely looking to make it to the crosswalk leading toward the walled subdivision of upper-middle class houses across the street from the store. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a black sedan screech hammer down around the corner and directly toward us with two arms poking out of the window: there were guns at the end of those arms.

Instinctively, I rushed to grab the little girl and knock her to the ground. I succeeded, but as my body covered hers I scored the outrageously wonderful good fortune of catching three stray rounds likely intended for the Latino guy who'd hit the turf but a split second ahead of me and the girl. I was the only one hit as the gang in the sedan sped off. The Latino guy got up and checked his car and swore; it was riddled with bullet holes, and his radiator was gushing fluid. He never even thought to look over to me or the girl, but the cops in the cruiser that screeched to a stop in front of me and the girl ten seconds later did.

I felt myself being rolled off of the waif beneath me and my head propped up on a jacket or something. I was conscious, but things around me were blurry. My belt was taken off of me and lashed around my upper left leg. One guy in black was ripping my shirt open and doing something to my chest or shoulder. I wondered at that; blood was all but blinding me; shouldn't the guy be taking care of my head? And then I wasn't conscious and I was glad.

******

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Things were still blurry, but began to come into better focus after what seemed but a minute or two. I didn't feel any pain. That had to be good news, right? I remembered the drive by and the gunshots and the Latino guy with the beer and then the cops.

I surveyed my environment. Yep, I was in the fucking hospital. Man, I didn't need this. I had work to do, accounts to analyze and take carry of. Mister Peters was not going to be happy.

"Doctor Cruz, he's awake," a female voice declared. Two white clad women and a man, probably doctor Cruz, were hovering over me.

"Well, he's now actually alive 'and' with us," said the good doctor.

"Mister Colson, can you hear me? Understand me?" he said. I nodded. I felt a little stiff, but otherwise not too bad. No pain, that was good for sure. As a matter of fact, for someone who had just been shot, I felt damn good. No doubt some medication that they must've given me.

"I'm doctor Cruz," he said. "I'm going to ask you some questions; then, I will be glad to fill you in on your condition. Okay?" I nodded again. God, I felt so stiff.

The questioning went on for some minutes with mostly one syllable responses from me. All such queries were relating to how I felt, or could I move such and such, or could I please do XYZ. I answered and acted accordingly.

The medico sighed. "Mister Colson, we have some more tests, but I am more than hopeful that you have finally made it back among us," he said.

"So, let me say first, that people, who have been in a coma as long as you, often suffer some after effects. But, in your case, I think we've gotten past that. We, he indicated his staff with a wave of his arm, have been more or less expecting you to come out of it for some days now. And, well, here we all are," he said. My look must have cued him

"Mister Colson?" said the doctor.

"How long?" I said.

"Oh my, I didn't say did I? Three months and two days mister Colson," he said. "But, it looks like you're going to make a full recovery, given a little time of course."

I could feel my mouth slowly open and close, like a fish-several times. No words came out. Not at first; then they did.

"Three months!" I squealed.

"Yes," he said. "But, as I said…"

"I-I-I…"

"Mister Colson, you're going to be fine. Please, just relax today. Tomorrow we will consider allowing a visitor or two of the several who have asked to see you and speak with you, to do so," he said.

"Visitors?" I said.

"Yes, but tomorrow, not today. You just came back to us, and we have to make sure you're able to deal with things. Okay?" he said. I nodded.

He talked a little more letting me know the limits of my activity for the next while. There was dietary information too. I'd been fed through a tube for so long my stomach had to be reeducated was the way he phrased it.

And then it was night, followed by morning of the second day. I did not receive visitors the second day as the doctor had intimated that I might, but I did on the third day.

******

It was day three, but really day one of the rest of my life. Just when I was about to get my chance to find out some more things from the doctor that were of some rather urgent importance to me, if to nobody else, we were interrupted by a nurse. She and the doctor conferred for a full minute. He nodded his okay.

"Yes, miss Bradley, let them in. I'm done here for the moment," he said. It looked like it was going to be a little longer before I got my questions answered.

"Mister Colson, I'm detective Wilson. This is Sergeant Jones. Might it be all right if we spoke with you for a moment?" he said.

"Yes, I guess so," I said.

We talked for some little time, but in the end it came down to the fact that I didn't know anything about who shot me. Detective Wilson did not look happy, but he understood. Then there was officer Jones.

"You don't remember me do you?" said Sergeant Jones. I felt my brow wrinkle.

"No, I don't think so," I said. "Should I?"

"No, I guess not. But, at any rate, it was my daughter you saved. I was one of the officers on the scene of the shooting. It was kind of a lucky thing for me. I was coming home for dinner; it was the middle of my shift.

"My wife had sent our daughter to get a couple of things at the store, and then there was you and the bad guys and others. Well anyway, you knocking my daughter down and covering her saved her life, about that there is no doubt," he said.

"Okay. Good," I said. "Hope she's okay."

"She's fine, a few scratches is all. But… " The man looked down, around, then back at me.

"Huh?" I said, wondering what he seemed so nervous about. He shoved his hands in his pocket and hunched his shoulders. Something was going on, but I was going to be no help to him for damn sure.

"It's okay, man," I said. "Anybody would have done the same given the same circumstances."

"Actually, that's not even close to the reality. Most people would have just pulled their cells and waited around for the uniforms to show up. You did a wonderful thing for Sadie, and I'll never forget it," he said.

Sadie? A policeman? This area, neighborhood? I was getting a real hinky feeling. No, not possible. It was not even remotely fucking possible!

But, I had to ask the question. "Officer, can I ask, what is your wife's name?" I said.

"Jemima," he said. His look spoke of nothing so much as regret.

"You're welcome for everything. Now please leave," I said. I was speaking softly, but I was about to breakdown; I didn't need this.

"Mister Colson, please let me say… " he started.

"Please leave, before I embarrass myself by breaking down and acting like the wimp your wife knows me to be. Okay?" I said.

"Mister Colson, Rueben, please. I need to say some things, apologize… I know Jemima and I…"

"Get the hell out, officer. I have nothing to say to you! And, you have nothing to say that I want to hear!" Now I was crying. He nodded, turned, and left.

******

"He wouldn't even let you apologize?" said Jemima. "Figures. Rueben Colson is a wimp. I will go to my grave grateful to him for what he did for our baby, but unfortunately that will not do anything to change who he is."

"Jemima, never again diss that man in my presence. He took four bullets for our daughter. Wimp? Try one helluva a brave man. Not too damn many like him out there either," said Richard. "And, then there is us: cheaters and heartbreakers. I don't think we come off too good in comparison to the man. So, change who he is? Why would you want to?"

"Okay, okay, you're right. I wasn't thinking. And, what he did was very brave; I have to give him that. So, no more dissing him. You're right," she said. "I just wish he'd have let you talk to him. He coulda done that much." He nodded, but tendered her a sour look.

"After what he heard us saying about him that day in the bar, and no I'm certain he hasn't forgotten it, who can blame him," said Richard.

"Yes, I suppose you may be right about that too," she said. "Do you think they will keep him a while longer in the hospital?"

"Didn't ask, but I have to think that, yes, they'll be keeping him a while longer. I mean he was out of it for three months," he said.

"Rick, I'm going to go see him myself. If he spits on me, so be it. I'll thank him and ask him to do it again. I know I hurt him bad. I just didn't know how not to. I'm just going to hope that I succeed where you failed to get him to talk. Whaddya think?" she said. He shook his head.

"I don't know. Maybe. I'd ask the doctor. The one thing we don't want to do is upset him or be party to making things hard on him. Yeah, ask the doctor. Explain the situation to him and if he says okay; well then, go ahead," said Richard. She nodded.

"Okay then," she said.

******

She watched as he slept. It was visiting hours, but he was dozing anyway. She'd told the nurse that she was his sister; they were only letting relatives and officials visit as it had only been a few days since he'd awakened, and he was still under observation though his prognosis was good. She'd never spoken to his doctor.

He yawned. She smiled; she remembered that yawn; it was so Rueben. It surprised her how comfortable it made her feel. His eyes fluttered open.

"Jemima! How? What?" He was clearly startled.

"I'm flattered; you still remember me," she said, in an attempt to be flippant.

"Remember you? How could I forget the woman who destroyed me and continued to do so even after she had no reason to," I said. "But, then, I guess putting me down has become a kind of sport for you."

"Rueben, I am sorry for the past. I came here to beg forgiveness for all of that; but more…"

"Yeah-yeah-yeah, I get it. You're welcome. Now you can leave," I said.

"Rueben, I said I was sorry. What more do you want?" she said.

"You gone?" I said. "Yes, that's it, you gone. That's 'What more do I want'."

"I don't blame you. But, please, can I at least talk to you for a few minutes? You'd be doing me a big favor if you would," she said. I sighed and started to break up-seeing her…

"Oh for G… oh my God, I was about to do it again wasn't I!" she said.

"Yes, you were. Like I said, I've become your favorite sport. Rueben the wimp, Rueben the loser: the target on my heart is so big you can't miss can you Jem," I said, "or resist." She looked down.

"I'm sorry, Rueben. You're right. You are absolutely right. And, it's me that's the loser, not you," she said.

My tears were streaming now. She noticed and wiped them away for me with a tissue gotten from her purse.

"You saved my baby's life. I will never be able to repay you for that. Never!" she said.

"Yes, you can," I said.

"Tell me. How? It's a done deal, I promise," she said.

"Okay, never come around me again," I said. "I can't deal with it. You've been right all along about one thing: I am a wimp when it comes to you, a pussywhipped wimp.

"I want you, Jem, I want you bad. I need you bad. And-I know I can't have you. The way you look, smell, it kills me that you're not mine even after all of this time. You're a tease, Jem, a goddamn tease, and it's cruel of you to do it to me even when you don't mean to. So please, I beg of you, please just stay away from me. Let me have a chance to get over you. I need to get over you," I said.

"Oh my God! Rueben, I had no idea. I didn't mean to tease or-anything. I just…"

"I know, and that makes it worse. But, please can you just go. I mean now that I've humiliated myself yet again? Please just go. Go have a laugh at my expense with your husband," I said. I turned away from her hoping she'd just leave.

"Okay, I'll leave. But, I owe you big time for Sadie," she said. "And-again-I am so sorry." And then she was gone.

******

"You saw him then?" he said. She just shook her head from side to side.

"Yes, and I made the little shit cry. Damn, I did it again!" she said. "Said he wants me to give him a chance to get over me-he's had ten years for chryssakes!"

"What? Did what again," said Richard.

"I dissed him. It's like it's a habit I can't break. I love the guy for what he did for our baby. But… " she said. "It's been over ten years and the guy still has the hots for me. You know, on some level, I'm flattered as can be."

"I see. But, if you will, dissing him is one habit you just have to break. For one, he is not a wimp. And two, he doesn't deserve to be referred to as one even if he were!" he said. "He's the very definition of a fucking hero."

"Yes, yes, I know. You know one day he has to be introduced to Sadie. Except for the briefest of moments in time, he's never met her. Now is maybe not the time, but one day… " she said.

"Yes, I agree with you there. But the 'when' may be a ways off, I'm thinkin'." She nodded her agreement.

******

"Cal, you know some people. Any female hanging around that might be able to take our friend here's mind off of his personal tragedy?" said Phil Sutter, everyone's favorite barkeep.

"You're the one with all the contacts, Phil. I mean you are a bartender. How about you coming up with a name," said Calvin Westly.

"Wait a minute you guys. I'm not in the market for any woman right now. I've had enough of the female gender to last me quite a while." I said.

"Shut the fuck up, Rueben," said Phil, smiling. "You're so damn needy it's embarrassing."

"Yeah," said Cal. "Phil's got a point. You're so focused on your ex that you've lost perspective. There's a million gals out there just dying to make your day. But, you've gotta at least give 'em a taste."

"Yeah-yeah-yeah," I said. "What woman that's actually homo sapiens wouldn't wanna give a guy like me a tumble. Get serious, okay."

"Now… " started Cal. He'd clearly stopped in mid-thought; something had come to him. "Wait a minute. Phil, what about Clarissa. She just got done dumping old Harvey Gould. I know for a fact that she's in the market." The look he got from the barkeep was sour.

"No-no-no," said Phil, "not Clarissa."

"She cleans up pretty good when she wants to," said Cal. "Hell, I'd by her a steak dinner." Phil wandered off down the bar not saying anything else.

"What's with Phil?" I said. "The woman dump on him?"

"No, no," said Cal.

"Well then?" I said, not really caring one way or the other.

"Well-it's just that-well-Clarissa isn't exactly in Jemima's class, but she's a nice girl; and, well, well worth your time," said Cal.

"And translated that means she's ugly but nice. Right?" I said.

"Ugly, no. Plain, yes," he said. "But, super nice and-loyal. Wanna meet her?" I gave him a look.

"Loyal, is she?" I said. As he'd been talking the truth that loyalty somehow trumped everything else came to me. I decided to take a flyer.

"To a fault," said Cal. "She's my wife's best friend. She was my date for our senior prom in high school," he said. "I'll have Angela set it up if you're of a mind to meet her," he said. I caught myself tapping my fingers on the bar-top.

"Do it," I said, before I had a chance to change my mind.

******

"Mister Colson, this is Clarissa Horton," said Angela Westly.

"Nice to meet you miss," I said.

Introductions and initial meet up pleasantries concluded, the four of us-Cal had arrived about fifteen minutes late-got down to some serious wine drinking.

Two glasses each of a pretty good house red consumed, Cal and Angela excused themselves.

"Well, that was kinda obvious of them," I said.

"Yes," said Clarissa. "So do you want to take me out?" I kinda laughed, but low key.

"Yes, I believe I do," I said. "You know, if nothing else you being here-and so up front and all-has made me feel more human than I've felt in years."

"Well good. But human?" she said.

"Uh-oh, you don't know my history do you?" I said, suddenly less sure of the situation.

"No, not really. Angela told me you've been through a divorce, kind of a bad one, but not much else," she said.

"Not 'kinda bad', I said "devastating. I've been in a blue funk ever since. No excuse, excerpt that I was, and probably still am, madly in love with the woman who I had thought was my life's soulmate. But, as it turned out, that was a one way street; she didn't give a rat's ass whether I lived or died. Kind of a soul 'killer' if you know what I mean," I said.

"I do know what you mean. Been there done that," she said. I nodded.

"So, next Saturday?" I said. "Sevenish?"

"Sure," she said. "Maybe we can each help the other dump the blues for a little while."

"That would be the hope," I said.

******

It was tax time. Mister Peters had seemingly been calling meetings almost daily for weeks with my division, accounting. The other divisions too had been getting calls to make sure their paperwork was up to date. Why all the angst? We were getting audited. Not unusual, we had an IRS auditor showing up every year, but usually it was just a formality. But this year we were slated to get the full treatment; hence, the boss' concern and my, my division's, long hours.

I didn't see the man sitting in his car across the street from my office, and I should have. I would later learn that he'd been there off and on for the past several months. But with traffic being what it was in the area picking him out would have been difficult even if I had known.

******

"Why don't you just go up to the man and talk to him, Rick. What's he going to do, spit in your eye?" said Jemima.

"I'm waiting for the right moment," said Richard Jones.

"Yeah, like you're going to know what that is watching him get off from work and going home," she said.

"There's always a moment," he said. "I know that from experience."

"It's been almost a year. Maybe it's time for him to meet our baby," she said. He looked up from his coffee on the dinette table in front of him.

"Yes, maybe it is," he said. "Yes." She gave him a look.

"So?" she said. But, he was lost in thought and didn't respond to her.

"Rick?" she said, trying to get his attention.

"Oh-yes. Sorry. I was just thinking," he said. She sighed.

"Yes, I can see that," she said. "Look, he's had time to heal and cool down from all of the excitement. Just take her to him and introduce her. Who knows, maybe it will lead somewhere. I have to think that he's curious about her; I mean he did risk his hide for her." He nodded.

"Okay, I will," he said. "Yes, it is time." She nodded.

*******

"You mean the guy that knocked me down and got shot?" said Sadie.

"Yes, exactly," said Sgt. Richard Jones. The girl gave him a look, a quizzical look.

"Okay," she said, knitting her brow. "Dad?"

"Yes?" said dad.

"Is there something else?" she said.

"Well, kinda," said her daddy. "You see, mister Colson…"

"Wait, that used to be mom's last name didn't it?' she said, interrupting him.

"Yes, yes it was. You see, they used to be married to each other, before you were born, actually," said dad.

"Really?" said Sadie. Her daddy smiled.

"Yes, really," he said. "And we owe him a lot for saving you that day. He did a very brave thing." She smiled.

"I know," she said. "I'm only twelve, but I'm not dumb yuh know!"

"I do know. You are not dumb, not even," he said. She hugged him.

She turned thoughtful. "Daddy?" she said.

"Yes?" he said.

"Does mister Colson like us? I mean if he and mommy… " she said.

"He'll love you, dear. He and mommy, well, they haven't been together for a long time. Okay?" he said. She nodded.

"Okay you two," said Jemima Jones, coming into the room, "what's going on?"

"Hi honey," said Richard. "Sadie and I were just discussing going to see mister Colson." Jemima Jones eyes lit up.

"Oh," she said.

"Mom, you and mister Colson used to be married?" said Sadie. Her mom gave her dad a look.

"His name cued her," he said. Jemima Jones nodded.

"Yes, Sadie, we were, but that was a long time ago," she said.

"Are you going to come with me and daddy to see him?" said Sadie.

"I don't think so, dear. I've already gone to see him once, now it's your turn. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, mom," said Sadie.

******

"So does she remember him? I mean it's been a year," said Jemima.

"I don't think so, not really. She understands what he did, but remember him per se? No," said Richard.

"How much did you tell her about him and me?" she said.

"Nothing, just that you used to be married and that you hadn't seen each other for a long time," he said. She nodded.

"Yes, well, I did try to see him, but the little…"

"Jemima!" said Richard, interrupting her.

"Okay, okay, you're right. I won't diss him anymore," she said.

"Really," he said. His tone spelled exasperation.

"It's just, that every time I think of the guy, I want to…"

"Don't say it!" he said.

"Okay, okay I won't," she said.

"Momma?" said Sadie slipping into the room in mid-conversation. "Mister Colson?"

Jemima Jones sighed. "Honey, mister Colson and I-well-we had some problems. He's a good man I mean he saved you, honey. So he gets credit for…"

"Credit? Huh? Mom? Is mister Colson and bad man?" said Sadie.

"No, no, no," said Jemima. "No, not a bad man. It's just-well-it's hard to explain. Someday maybe you'll understand. Okay?"

The look on mister Jones face was beyond describing. "In point of fact, Sadie, mister Colson is a very good man. And we all love him. Right, honey?" he said, looking at his wife. His wife's smile was-something, maybe forced.

******

I've never been here before. But, everyone seems to know you," said Clarissa.

"My hangout after work on Fridays," I said. "And, other times." She snickered.

"Other times?" said Clarissa.

"Yeah, well, I did a lot of my whining and crying here after my wife and I broke up," I said. She nodded.

For the next two hours my new friend and I got to know each other rather well. It turned out that she could dance, and with her leading I didn't do too badly.

"You show promise," she said.

"Promise?" I said.

"As a dance partner. I love to dance and I might just honor you by choosing you to fill that particular, currently empty, slot on my social register," she said.

"And, it would be an honor," I said. "I mean if you really think that I'm not a complete loser."

"Heck no you're not," said Clarissa. "I won't kid you; it's going to take some work, but time-wise it won't be all that long before you're doing the leading."

The drive to her place was mostly silent. Silent, but pregnant with promise. She had let her hand come to rest on my thigh.

I pulled up in front of her house. I let her out and walked her to the door.

She looked me in the eye and waited, an expectant smile creasing her mouth. I swallowed hard, like a teenager on his first date. I leaned in hopefully and kissed her lightly.

"That the best you've got big boy?" she said.

"Hell no!" I said, as I planted a scorcher on her lips.

"Better," she said. She took me by the hand and led me inside.

The sex during the next three and a half hours could only have been described as desperate, and that, on the parts of the both of us. For me free pussy had been a tragedy of not-happening-ness. In her case it was more that she hadn't been treated well in the happening. She was doing her best to remind me of how to ride the proverbial bicycle. I, on the other hand, was at pains to do right by her for having mercy on me.

We made out on the couch for a solid hour before we started stripping each other. I took her doggy and missionary. She beat me off twice causing me to spasm wildly in the doing both times. Oral? No, no oral this time around. It just didn't come up. What we did is what we did and it worked for us, well, for me for sure. I hoped for her too.

*****

"So today's the day," said Jemima, more to herself than to either of the other two seated across from her at the breakfast table. Richard snickered.

"Yes, yes it is," he said. "Kind of our last chance to do something right by the guy."

"Huh?" said Sadie. "What? I mean-who-right-who?" Her mother smiled.

"Honey, when Rueben Colson and I broke up…"

"You mean when you and I destroyed him," said Richard, fully aware that his young daughter was less than three feet away. He got a hard look from his wife.

"Honey, what your daddy means is that, well, mister Colson was kinda bad hurt when I-well-when I asked him for a divorce to marry your dad. In those days, well, in those days…"

"In those days," said Richard, "he was kind of unforgiving. He loved your momma too. So anyway, Now you know.

"Sadie, I told you this now because there is a possibility that us going to see him today might not go well." The girl child nodded.

"But, he saved me," said Sadie.

"Yes, and I'm sure he would have done that for anyone in a situation like that," said Jemima. "But, he did not know it was you, I mean that you were my child, mine and your daddy's.

"Your daddy and I have both gone to see him, but he kinda sent us away. He didn't want to talk to us. He's still hurt over me divorcing him and everything. Can you understand that?"

"Not really," said Sadie. "I mean you breaking up with him, divorcing him, had to have been a long time ago. I mean I'm twelve years old already."

"Yes, it was a long time ago, but Rueben, mister Colson, has never gotten over it. He's still hurt and maybe a little angry too," said Jemima. "In all honesty, well, I wasn't very nice to him-some of the things I said…

"Anyway, honey, that's why your mom said that this might be our last try to get him to accept our apologies and thanks for saving you.

"Sadie, dear heart, I'm going to ask you to follow instructions to the letter when we get there today. Please do exactly as I say. I don't even know what might happen or how, I mean we may need to leave immediately if he… " said Richard.

"Okay dad. I think I understand. I'll do as you say," said Sadie.

******

Sometimes the days can be long. We'd finally gotten our records all settled for the fiscal year and everyone: accounting, operations, distribution was breathing easier and settling in for a long winter's nap-figuratively speaking.

Thanksgiving was but a month away and I would be spending it with my now girlfriend and future wife-I hoped-Clarissa Horton. We'd become an item and she had almost totally resurrected my shattered psyche. Jesus, a good woman could absolutely rebuild a man every bit as easily as a not so good woman could tear him down. I didn't used to believe in lucky stars but now I did. Go figure.

It was Friday. We, Clarissa and I, planned an evening of fine dining and dancing at the Flame Tree night club. That to be followed by a night cap or two at the Cloister, once again my sometime hangout, before adjourning to her place for the weekend.

I was happy again; she had made me happy again.

I looked up at the clock, one more hour to go and I could hit the bricks.

"Mister Colson," came Sally's voice over the intercom, "you have visitors, sir."

I'd been thinking about taking off a bit early, so I decided to just see who was visiting. I grabbed my coat and went out of my office and into the reception area. Sally gave me a look and let her gaze float to the visitors.

I could feel my face flush. I knew who the man was of course; it hadn't been that long. And the girl? I knew who she was too. I guess I should have expected this. Hell, I was surprised that it had taken this long to bring out their big guns.

"Mister Jones, officer Jones, I mean," I said.

"Mister Colson-Rueben. This is… " he started.

"This is Sadie," I said. "Yes, we met under less than optimal circumstances some time ago. Nice to meet you formally." I was being perhaps a little overly formal, but it's how I felt and it seemed to fit the situation.

"I was just leaving," I said. "What can I do for you?"

My look and my tone should have indicated to the elder Jones that I didn't want to go through some long drawn out scene, but he evidently decided that he needed to proceed.

"A few minutes of your time, sir, if we may," he said. I stared at him for a long moment. If it hadn't been for the presence of the girl, I would have blown him off, but the girl was there. I nodded and motioned them to follow me back into my office. A moment later we were all seated, me behind and them in front of my desk.

"Mister Jones, we've had this conversation," I said.

"With all due respect, mister Colson, we really haven't. I'm hoping that today, well maybe…," he said.

A moment of silence ensued. I was waiting for him to say his piece so I could have my go; but then, it occurred to me that for whatever reason he was waiting for me to go first. So I did.

"I have to say I am not greatly surprised that you brought your baby here today. I'm sure you know what my reaction would have been had it been just you, or, you and Jemima," I said.

And, yes I was well aware of the fact that the little girl was seated in our midst and that she was going to be made privy to a lot of things that maybe little girls didn't need to be made privy to. But I intended to put an end to this-what-harassment born of latent guilt trips that the two cheaters were doubtless possessed of. And yes, yes, I could accept that they felt "boundless" gratitude for my having saved Sadie; but I thought, considered, that to be but a secondary element in their motivations.

"Rueben, believe me Jemima and I only wish to express our gratitude to you and to assure you of our respect for you as a person and a very brave man," he said. I did my best not to snicker when he said that.

Smiling I asked him, "Would it be all right with you, mister Jones, if Sadie waited for you in the foyer while we talked a little bit."

"Sure of course!" he said, almost too excitedly. "Sadie please go out and wait in the reception area. Please."

"Yes, daddy," said Sadie. We waited for the door to close behind her.

"I am so glad you are willing to discuss things with me, Rueben," he said.

"Actually discussion is not exactly what I had in mind, mister Jones," I said.

"Rich or Richard, please," he corrected me.

"I'll stick with mister Jones if you don't mind," I said. His expression morphed from hopeful to concerned.

"Okay, as you wish," he said.

"Please get this mister Jones. I know that my ex-wife holds me in abject contempt. I know from experience that the both of you laugh at me behind my back, and that probably regularly. I'm not a fool no matter what else she may think me.

"I know that when you leave here and go home today, you'll breathe a sigh of relief that that's over with and tell each other how wonderful it is that you're done with me. You will tell yourselves that you have successfully salved my bruised and battered psyche. And, you will no doubt convince yourselves as to what wonderful people you are," I said.

"Not true, sir!" he said. "Not true." I snickered.

"Not true? When Jemima told me she was getting rid of me for another man, you; she essentially told me to deal with it and get on with my life. When I bumped into you at the Horse's Head you were both heaping insults on my absent self and no doubt holding your sides you were laughing so hard. Then, there was the occasion of me accidentally bumping into her in the market where she scored me for not being able to forget her even after ten years. Oh, and lets not forget her coming to see me after the events at the convenience store. When I wasn't reacting as she thought most appropriate, she started to put me down yet again; but, on that occasion she did catch herself and make a halfhearted apology for doing so.

"So, no, mister Jones; I do not believe for a New York minute that Jemima Jones respects me, not even."

"Look, Rueben, you've got it all wrong. She does… " said Richard.

"I'll make you a deal, mister Jones," I said interrupting him, "You play straight with me while we're here today, be honest with me, and we'll call everything even. You'll be able to tell the woman that I forgive everything, if not actually forget it all, and that if we ever bump into each other again we'll be civil and even friendly. How about it," I said.

"Okay, yes," he said.

"Okay then. After she visited me that day in the hospital, did she go home and to you insult me?" I said. He looked away.

"Okay, so far so good," I said. "Now has she ever, I mean ever, mister Jones, begun a conversation with you, and your friends, where I was the topic of that conversation without her insulting me?"

"No," he said. "She always bites her tongue afterwards, I hasten to say, but no; she is hard on you and the memory of you."

"Thank you. Your honesty, if not the message per se, is refreshing," I said.

"Reuben, I should say that her big thing as regards you is that she doesn't understand why you don't find another woman and get on with living your life. Frankly, I am persuaded that if you did that she would stop her dissing and what all," he said. "Actually, I think that half of her negative attitude is related to guilt for leaving you with no way, as she sees things, to recover. She worries over it, and it's easy to blame you, instead of herself, for being slow to get on with things."

"In point of fact, mister Jones, my love life is none of her goddamn business. But, that said, you'll be happy to learn that I have found me another woman. Okay Rich? And, yes, I will call you by your nickname now if you still so prefer," I said.

"Thank you, and I do so prefer," he said.

"My new love is a much better woman than Jemima ever was or could be. She is honest and loyal and loving and will never betray me. And, I will say, Rich, that you'd be hard pressed to claim as much about Jemima," I said.

"Look, Reuben, I can't guarantee that Jemima will clean up her thinking. What I can guarantee you is that I have; and that is also the truth, sir. I swear it." I nodded.

"I believe you, Richard. Go home and tell your woman, the woman that used to be my woman, that all hatchets are buried. Tell her you found me content with my new situation and that I no longer hold any grudges. Okay?"

"Sir, yes. But, can I ask you one small favor?" he said.

"Sadie?" I said.

"Yes, if you can convince her, my selling Jemima on the truth of what I will be telling her will be a damn sight easier," he said. I nodded.

We recalled Sadie to the office and my new acquaintance, if not actual friend, and I got along famously in front of her and for her benefit. And, then they were gone.

******

"You're kidding," said Kimberly. "I mean…"

"No, I'm not kidding. It wasn't easy, the sailing wasn't smooth, but somewhere along the line he decided to take a flyer," said Richard.

"A flyer?" said Kimberly.

"He asked if it would be all right for Sadie to leave us alone for a few minutes, him and me," he said.

"Okay?" said Kimberly.

"Well, I said okay, and Sadie went out into the foyer closing the door behind her," he said.

"Okay?" she said.

"Well, he laid it on me. Told me he knew you and I held him in contempt and that if it weren't for Sadie being there at that moment that he would have kicked my ass out without the slightest hesitation.

"I tried to convince him that he was wrong, that we, you and I, did not hold him in contempt our previous behavior notwithstanding." He said. "But…"

"But?" she said.

"He was having none of it. He laid out his experiences since you'd asked him for a divorce, and made the case that it would be impossible for him to ever imagine that we, but especially you, could ever respect him even as a person let alone a man.

"Naturally I tried to object, but he shut me down again. But then… well… he seemed to get an idea," he said.

"An idea? What idea?" she said. She saw him hesitate as if not wanting to say whatever it was.

"He asked if it might be possible, even remotely possible, for me to be straight with him for the next minutes." Honestly, I considered lying to him, trying to sell him on the idea that he was totally off base. But then… " he said.

"Well, what did you say?" she said.

"At first nothing. I just stared at him. But, I finally realized that a lie would not fly. He'd see through it in an instant. I decided to be straight with him. I don't mind telling you I was shaking in my boots. I had visions of his boot being lodged quite firmly four feet up my ass."

"And, did he buy it, what you told him?" she said.

"Buy it? There was nothing to buy. I told him the truth. I told him that the both of us were hypocrites, that we did talk about him behind his back, insult him regularly and that he was right that for a long time we had indeed held him in contempt… especially…"

"Especially?" she said.

"Especially you," he said.

"What the fuck!" she said.

"Kim, I wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. All of the things you'd said to him. That he'd overheard that day at the Horse's Head, all of it. He knew the truth and he wanted to hear it from me. So he did," he said.

"So what? Now he totally hates me if he didn't already?" she said.

"Not exactly," he said.

"Huh?"

"I kinda made him a deal, after the fact," said Richard. "I needed Sadie to know that all of the bad stuff we said and thought would not diminish Rueben's feelings toward her. I didn't want her thinking that he hated her because she was part of us."

"So?" she said.

"So, we put on an act. We talked to her and made it seem that he and I had buried the hatchet and were now good. She bought it, the act, as you heard, when we got back and she told you what she told you," he said.

"So, why would I have any reason to believe that he doesn't still hate me?" she said.

"I kinda made a deal with him. I told him we needed to really and truly bury the hatchet. It'd been long enough. I told him that your contempt for him was actually based in his apparent inability to move on from his feelings for you, to find another love and get on with life."

"Well, you weren't far off in saying that," she said. "If the guy would only get that life…"

"He has," he said. "He's got a new love, one he says is better than you. One who is true and loyal and would never betray him as you had, as you and I had," He said.

He watched as her face flushed and then paled. "He said that?" she said.

"Yes," he said. She began to cry.

"Well, that pretty much lets me know what he thinks of me, doesn't it," she said, still sobbing. He remained silent.

"So what now?" she said.

"Nothing. We'll likely run into each other in the future, but maybe not. But he has forgiven us, his words, for everything. I guess you could say all of the hard feelings of the past are, well, past," he said.

"I sure would like to have one more shot at him," she said, mostly to herself.

"Not impossible, but not now. For now he gets on with his life as you have more than once advised him to do. We get on with ours. And maybe, someday the twain shall again meet," he said.

"And Sadie?" she said.

"I have to believe that there will come a time when the two of them will get together, but there are no current plans for that to happen. The future will be what it will be and that's the long and the short of it," he said. She nodded.

******

Clarissa: ten years later.

After the "final meeting" between himself and that man, and the little girl of course, he seemed to settle down. My Rueben finally settled down. It was time. He'd lived quite long enough with the baggage he'd been saddled with since his divorce-and because of his divorce.

I'd had my own baggage of course as well. Mister Gould had pretty much destroyed me. The difference was that I was able to get my licks in on that cheating bastard; Rueben's situation was the diametrical opposite: he was screwed, blued, and tattooed by his ex.

That he'd been in a position to save the love child of the cheaters changed the game, and change it it did, but even that did little to salve his hurt soul. And his very soul was hurt. But, then the lucky bastard had the good fortune to meet me!

I wasn't the pretty pink dolly his ex was, but I was what he needed; and oh, yes, I admit it; he was what I needed. These past ten years have seen us get on just fine thank you very much. We've got our home-paid for-two cars, and we are planning a trip to Italy-my dream vacation.

He's due home any minute. Dinner's ready. And, after dinner, well, I'm going to be ready. Yes, ready to have him poke that average sex engine of his inside of me. I need it and he will not be allowed to be too tired or otherwise occupied. Oh no, he's going to be real busy making me scream! The good news is, he is not going to be all that hard to convince; he is a horny little toad for sure.

******

"Dinner was good, honey. I do love chicken adobo. That friend of yours taught you well," I said.

"Well, thank you, sir. But, there is a price," she said.

"A price?" I said-well sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake. Her smile clued me.

"Oh, that," I said.

"Excuse me?" she said. "This is prime pussy over here. You could be a little more enthusiastic if you please!"

Now I laughed. "Trust me, if enthusiasm is what you're looking for, you need look no farther. I'm your guy," I said.

******

The clinic was busy-busy-busy! The young woman was standing and furtively pacing in front of her chair in the waiting room. She'd been seated for some minutes, but she had finally had enough of that and was now doing what she was doing-furtively pacing.

The nurse at the station nodded toward the pacing woman. Her co-worker got the signal and went over to the lady.

"Yes, miss?" said fifty year old nurse Clarissa Colson.

"Missus Colson?" said Sadie Jones.

"Yes, can I help you with something?" said Clarissa.

"It is good to meet you ma'am," said Sadie.

"Meet me? Should I-am I missing something here?" said Clarissa. The young woman smiled.

"Ma'am, I'm Sadie Jones," she said. The nurse was clearly surprised. The younger woman resisted the impulse to smile more broadly; it would not have been appropriate.

"Oh," said Clarissa.

"You know who I am," said Sadie.

"Yes, yes I do," she said.

"Is there a place where we could talk?" said Sadie. The older woman eyed her.

"I guess so, sure," said Clarissa.

Nurse Clarissa gazed across the small intervening table that separated the ingénue from her. She spread her hands in a "what?" gesture.

"I'm sure you know my story," said Sadie.

"Yes," said Clarissa, "but not why you're here."

"Uh-yes. Mister Colson, your husband, my mother's ex-husband, saved my life. My dad tried to make things right with him, things that even now I only know about in general terms. What I do know for certain is that my mom hurt him real bad when she divorced him," said Sadie.

"Okay, all that's true," said Clarissa. "So, that was twenty years ago?"

"Well, what you do not know is that my mom and dad have had their problems at least partly related to those days too," said Sadie. The older woman was mildly surprised.

"Really? Well okay, but what does that have to do with you coming to see me," said Clarissa.

"Over these last ten years, so I have come to learn, my mom and dad have never quite gotten over the fact that mister Colson, your husband, saved my life. There have been a lot of conversations about that, and, somewhere along the line they began to grow apart. As I got older, I became more and more aware of it.

"Then, something happened, dad caught my mom-well-in flagrante with another man. I guess it was partly the result of the growing rift between them over mister Colson. For what it's worth, it killed my dad's heart. Well, and since then it's become my job, kinda, to comfort him and hold his hand.

"My mom has moved in with her new guy. Do you know, he's a minister of all darn things! And, he's okay, but not welcome around our house, mine and my dad's. Well, you can imagine why," she said. Clarissa nodded.

"You've met the man then?" she said.

"Yes, mom has had me over to her new place for dinner a few times. Been to his church too, but just once so far. I mean divorces sometimes happen and carrying around a suitcase full of hate or anger is not productive.

"My mom and I will have our relationship, she is my mother, and I will be polite to the new guy; but, that will pretty much be the totality of it, for the foreseeable future at any rate," said Sadie.

"Okay, but again, all of this is very interesting, but why are you here? What does all of this, and it is interesting, have to do with me and my husband?" said Clarissa.

"Like I said, my dad especially never really felt good about how things came together after mister Colson saved me. He'd like to meet with him again if he will allow," said Sadie.

"Really? And may I ask why that would be," said Clarissa.

"Yes really," said Sadie. "But, to answer your question, and this may sound strange, but my dad feels a kind of connection to mister Colson. I asked him what he meant when he told me that, but he just said he wasn't sure himself. Anyway, it's almost thanksgiving."

Nurse Clarissa nodded. "Okay?" said Clarissa. "But, I hear a but in there somewhere"

"Well, mom and her new guy came up with an idea that my dad said he would consider if you did, you and mister Colson," said Sadie.

"Huh?" Said Clarissa, "What idea?"

"My dad would like it very much if you and your husband would come to Thanksgiving dinner. I mean if you don't have any other plans," said Sadie, she appeared nervous. "And… " The older woman leaned back in her seat.

"And?" said Clarissa.

"Well, and mom and her guy would be there too," said Sadie. "My dad thinks that avoiding the bitterness and anger and everything, well, is everything."

"But, your dad?… he got dumped?… and the divorce?…"

"He's already begun a relationship that may go somewhere. Anyway, that's what he told me; she'll be there too."

"You've stopped me," said Clarissa. I tell you what, leave me your number. I'll talk to my husband. I will let you know, but at this point that's all I can promise.

"I will say this: a Thanksgiving like the one you're talking about might be a first and that for darn sure," said Clarissa.

******

"I don't know, Rueben. But, the girl seemed sincere," said Clarissa, "and definitely not crazy-thoughts to the contrary notwithstanding."

"And, you say that the guy, Richard, and my ex are divorced," said Rueben, "and that he and Sadie have invited his now ex and her new guy to the party!"

"Harrumph," said Rueben. "Some things never change, nor do the people who do the some things." She smirked. "We might regret not going to something like what they are proposing-I mean…"

"Yes, seems so," she said. "And, that's pretty much what I said." He nodded.

******

"How is the kid doing," said Marvin Garvey, age 38, minister, and current new husband and love of Jemima Garvey's life.

"She's okay. She miffed that Richard and I couldn't get it together and stay together. But, she's twenty-one, and an adult; she'll get by it. You and I will be having dinner with her on Friday here," she said.

"Good, you need that, I know," he said. "I see how you are after each time you've seen her, I mean since the divorce. You need to stay connected, for real."

"Yes, for real," she said. "Marv, I'm so glad that you've been so understanding. I mean…"

"Not a problem," he said. "It'll be my business to make sure you're content and happy. And, as a matter of fact, I think I should do a little something in that direction right now. What do you think?" She smiled.

"Why, I think you may have something there," she said, letting her gaze float to the zipper on his dockers. She pulled it down exposing him as his cock extruded through the front of his black boxers. She, on her knees, played with it.

"God that feels good," he said.

"I know," she said. "But, don't you dare cum, not yet," she said.

He struggled to follow her orders and was barely able to succeed, but succeed he did.

Take the rest of your clothes off," she said. She mirrored his efforts as he undressed. Soon there were two of them naked and staring.

"I never get enough of seeing your… " he started.

"My slit?" she said, interrupting him. He smiled.

"Yes," he said.

She lay back on the floor and spread herself wide for him. "Well, come on, big boy, it's time to screw me," she said.

He positioned himself between her legs and lowered himself into her. She was already somewhat lubricated; he slid in easily bottoming out. He began fucking her. Her expression became serious as he filled her. He panted animalistically above her as he slowly but inexorably drove in and out of her. For her part she grunted in unison with his down-stroke while gasping each time he pulled back.

"Oh my oh my oh my!" she whimpered as she felt the waves of a major orgasm sweep over her. He collapsed on top of her.

"Jesus, Marv, that's the best I've ever had," she said. "He smiled the smile of a conqueror.

"I glad," he said. "Oh yeah."

They lay for some little time catching their breath. They'd go again, but for the moment they lay passive and content.

"You still thinking that we should spend Thanksgiving with your ex and his new squeeze?" said Marvin.

"Yes, I think so. Why, you getting cold feet?" she said.

"No, no, I mean you do have a daughter together. I'm still, well, just a little surprised that he even asked you, and more, that you accepted," he said.

"I don't want a repeat of what happened with my first hubby and me, and neither does Richard. Richard is very civilized. If I hadn't met you, well, I'd still be with him and doing okay," she said.

"But, we did meet. And, I noticed that it didn't take 'him' all that long to find himself a new squeeze. You think he might have been playing all along?" he said.

"No, no, I don't think so. He's become kinda staid over the years. Playing wasn't his bag." She said.

"But, I repeat, it didn't take him long to get himself another woman," he said.

"No, and I think it's his old partner on the force: Melba Curry, I think is her name. I think she always had a thing for him; I met her several times in the early years.

******

The Cloister was almost empty, just a guy at the bar sipping something medicinal, and myself holding down a table in the back. I saw him come in, survey the place, see me, and come to join me.

"Glad you agreed to come," said Richard. "I've wanted to talk to you for some time."

"Really?" I said. The new arrival didn't quite snicker.

"Yes, really," he said, finally. Richard Jones took on a serious aspect.

"It's been what now? Twenty years, more?" said Richard.

"Almost twenty-two," I said.

"Yeah, sounds right," said Richard. "Divorce sucks. I know you know what I mean. Heck more, I know you agree with me."

"Can't deny it," I said. "You come all this way across town to tell me that?"

"No, no, I came to make you an offer of a charter membership in a new club," he said.

"Huh? What?" I said, really not getting it.

"Yes, The Husbands Who Hate Divorce Society," he said.

"Funny," I said. "How about you join my club instead," I said. He looked me askance.

"Yeah, The Hopeless and Lost Husbands of America," I said.

"Touché," he said. "You still hopeless and lost?" he said. "I mean because of Jemima?"

"I think about her a lot. Can't help it. The irony, mostly it's about how angry I still am that she did me like she did and that so many times," I said. Richard nodded.

"Yeah, well, I'm on the other side of that stick myself now," he said. "The good news is that I think I've found a woman I can trust to be my soulmate. "You know, like you did."

"Yeah-yeah, I did," I said. "That said, again, I still think about my ex. You know, all I ever wanted was a family and love and the chance to show them how much I loved them, the members of my family.

"Yeah, I can dig it," he said. Me too."

"For sure," I said.-

Seems like you and me are on the same page," he said. "People, us, live, make mistakes, do each other wrong or react wrongly: it's the human condition, a searching for greener pastures. When we don't find perfection, which by definition is virtually impossible to find, we can't believe it so we try something or someone new only to founder yet again."

"I guess. And, you thought that you'd found greener pastures, then, when you took Jemima from me those twenty plus years ago?" I said.

"Yes. I didn't think that deeply at the time. I-we-even you-all of us were young. We were still playing musical hormones," he said.

"No, and I I never cheated on her, hormones or not. I didn't. Nor, did I have anything to do with wanting a divorce," I said.

"No, your sin was the way you wasted so many years of your life crying over something that wasn't your fault. You needed not to do that. Like I said, I'm in a place now almost exactly the same as you were then. The difference, I guess that I'm older, I've been able to see things a little more objectively. I refuse to feel sorry for myself or let Jemima destroy me as you let her destroy you.

"Frankly, Rueben, I'm the one who's come out the winner in our situation: Sadie supports me in all of this, our divorce. She'll maintain a relationship with Jemima, and, I'm encouraging her to do so. That salient fact is certain to have Jemima wringing her hands when no one's around, believe it," he said.

"Maybe," I said. "Can I ask? You say she and her new guy will be coming to dinner? Is that for sure?"

"She said they would. Sadie's holding her feet to the fire in this one. Jemima and I do still share the reality of Sadie. I don't think Jemima will have the huevos to bail on us," he said. "No, she'll be there and so will her new hubby, nervous but there. And, we will treat the two of them with all due cordiality. Frankly, I can't wait."

"You know, neither can I," I said.

We talked for some considerable length of time, and then we shook and parted to our respective women.

******

The question of where to have Thanksgiving dinner had not actually been decided until the last minute. Early on, Richard and Melba, had proposed different restaurants as possible sites; they'd be neutral territory was the reasoning. But, Richard, who'd been the principal organizer of the event, had ultimately asked me if it might be all right to have it at our house, mine and Clarissa's. At first, I'd been reluctant; and, I hadn't been sure why. But, in the end, Clarissa had smiled and given my onetime cuckolder the okay. The reasoning?

"Because it would be easier to talk and interact and get our messages heard and understood in the less formal atmosphere of one of our homes. Richard was still occupying the home he'd shared with Jemima for over twenty-years, and which had once been mine and Jemima's common abode to boot. It was his thought that there were just too many ghosts at that particular venue to make it a very attractive choice for a meeting like the one proposed. And, holding it at Jemima's and her new man's place, where they had been residing since her most recent skedaddle, would give her too much a sense of control. No, it had to be our place mine and Clarissa's.

Marvin and Jemima arrived first and a little early; it was but 1:00PM. Dinner was scheduled for 4:00PM. Richard and Melba arrived at the more appropriate 3:00PM.

Clarissa had mixed what I was sure was a year's supply of Margarita's. I of course had loaded a case of premium lager into the mini-frig in the den. We were set.

The greetings and niceties and not quite forced good will had been seen to by dinner time. By 4:00PM the women including Sadie were near done with their culinary efforts, and the house smelled wonderful.

"Dinner's on," announced Clarissa, a bit louder than was required. Her smile was broad.

Dinner was animated and the topics of conversation-by design-revolved around current, and only current, events in the lives of the attendees.

Dinner over everyone adjourned to the patio. It was still light out and the day was unseasonably warm. Everyone had a drink in his or her hand and was floating around speaking to this or that other person about nothing all that controversial.

Jemima had been talking to Sadie and I somehow backed into her.

"Oops! Sorry about that," I said.

"Oh-no problem, Rueben. It's really nice to see you today," she said. Sadie smiled and, apologizing, headed off to talk with someone else.

"So how are you and your new man doing?" I said, and no I didn't snicker or saying anything untoward.

She gave me a hard look. "We're fine," she said. "Starting over is kind of a challenge at my age, but…"

"Hmm, yes, I'm familiar," I said. I got that look again.

"Look, Rueben, if you've got something to say…"

My turn to tender her a look. "Okay. I do have one question. I don't know how meaningful it would be to you…"

"A question?" she said.

"Yes. I was wondering, actually, I have long wondered… I paused. "Can I ask, Jem, have you ever regretted breaking up with me. I mean I know what you've said about me and all, but…"

She paused, smiled. "On a rare occasion," she said. "I was happy with Richard, in love with him, so I didn't think about the old days too much. But to answer you, yes, I guess I did."

"Hmm," I said.

"Rueben, I need to say that all of those things I've said about you, some of which you actually overheard; well, they were just words to make me feel better about how bad a person I'd been toward you. Kind of a way to make excuses for myself. A way to excuse my behavior. I know that now; I didn't before.

"But, how about you if I may ask? You ever get to a place where you didn't actually hate me for what I did. I mean I know we're here today, talking, getting along, but…"

"Truthfully, not until recently. Oddly, Richard was the catalyst for that. He's a good guy. If your new guy is anywhere as good as him, well… " I said.

"Marvin? He's a good guy too, but different than Rich, or you either if it comes to that," she said. I nodded.

"Can I ask, why did you leave Rich?" I said.

"Malaise, I guess," she said. "We were kinda just treading water. You know me; I need more than that just to get along."

"Yeah, I guess," I said. Laughter over by the oak tree caught our attention. Everyone else was there.

"Probably laughing at us," I quipped. Jemima snickered.

"Yes, maybe," she said. "Uh-maybe we should join them." I nodded and we headed over to them.

Sadie had become the center of attention.

"Glad you could join us, dear," said Marvin. "Sadie was just saying how weird it seemed to her that the three adult males in her life were at the same place at the same time with nobody getting mad at anybody."

"Yes," added Melba. "We have the guy who is married to her mother, the man who saved her life, and her father all here and nobody's acting badly."

"Yeah, well the evening is young," I said, but I said it smiling.

Dinner eaten, much alcohol consumed, and tentative acquaintanceships even friendships formed we all said our goodnights and goodbyes with a lot to think about. Still, with all such said and done, there was one act in this little drama yet to play out and it was Sadie who instigated it.

******

Marvin Garvey stood formally, no, solemnly on the dais, slightly in front of the groom, Steven Costly. He watched as the bride, Sadie Jones, marched slowly up the aisle in step with the music. She was on the arm of her father, Richard Jones.

The best man, Rueben Colson, seemed nervous but no more so than the mother of bride seated in the first row. A hundred friends and relatives half-filled the smallish Unitarian church where reverend Garvey, most recent husband of the bride's mother, presided on Sundays.

There had been a day when such a scene would have been more than unlikely. But, today, Sadie's day, it seemed almost natural.

The reception would be more than unusual at the least.

Would there be a universal happily ever after? As unlikely as statistics would likely predict, the chances on this day seemed good.

Heckuva note.

-----------------------------

   Series:Samantha and Bruce
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She loves the guy, but is hung up on another's nine incher
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.web.archive.org/web/20130815042916/www.literotica.com/s/samantha-and-bruce
Published:2021-08-06
I've not done much of anything in my fifty years; well, other than read books and work. That formula has worked for me till now, but no more. I've finally decided to make a change. Oh me? My name is Bruce Turner: more about me later.

Working I'd become a major success; Well, if a hundred million in liquid assets can be considered success. My job? I'm self-employed. I buy and sell foreign currencies: not an occupation for the unlettered or the faint of heart. Me, I'm lettered as hell and for damn sure not faint of heart. And, I'm smart.

Hell yes I'm smart. Yeah, well, but maybe not smart enough to actually know how to really live. But, I am intending to change that little reality. All I have to do is figure out how to go about it. The catalyst for me wanting to make a change? A lady who calls herself Lana, no last name.

It hadn't been much, what she'd said, but it'd stung. "Bruce you've got to get out more. You need to get a life. You've got enough money; start using it to live," she said.

"I don't know Lana. Sometimes I think you're right about that stuff. I mean, but when would I have time," I said. She gave me a look that screamed, get with it imbecile! and then went back to work. It was real hard trying to concentrate on lifestyle changes, I mean with my cock in her mouth and me twitching on the love seat in front of her. Jesus, she knew how to do that.

Lana was a very talented lady of the evening. I'd purchased her services any number of times. We were, if not actual friends, at least friendly acquaintances. That was the prime reason that I was taking her advice seriously. Physically, Lana's five-four, maybe one-ten, 34-25-34, thirty-nine years old, longish brown hair, eyes to match, and possessed of an ass that can stop traffic. Oh, and a personality that can bewitch a man. Hell, she's bewitched me all to heck.

**

As I sat peering into the bottom of my wine glass—I was drinking port—I had decided to do a one-eighty in terms of my lifestyle.

"One more, Gilbert," I said. Gilbert Misguez is my favorite bartender; been pouring drinks for me for damn near twenty years: he's the owner and chief barkeep of Panza's Bar and Grill.

My man delivered my third of the day and leaned kind of side-angled against his side of the bar looking at me. "You look like you've got a load on your mind," he said. I looked up at him, and it occurred to me that bartenders knew everything about the social stuff, right?

"You could say that," I said. "Gil, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he said.

"Gil, I need to know just how big of a social loser that I am. I mean—well I mean—do you think that at my age could start doing stuff. You know social stuff?" I said. He looked at me and kinda stepped back as though appraising a potential purchase.

"What are you? Fifty?" he said. I nodded.

"Yeah, you could, but you'd wanna be doin' some changin'," he said.

"Changing?"

"Yes, new clothes. Maybe a different ride."

"A new car?" I said. "That's a three months old Eldorado sittin' out there. Why would I need a new car? And my clothes…"

"No, no, not a new car, and old one, Maybe a pickup," he said. "And, yes new clothes. You dress like an undertaker. But, there's more to what I'm saying than just that shit."

"Huh?" I said.

"You look dull, Bruce, well off, but dull. Unless you want to be taken to the cleaners by some broad assed gold digger, you need to dress down and a little more colorfully; and, not be so obviously upper middle class. That's my thinking anyway," he said.

"Oh!" I said.

"Yes, oh," he said. "You know how to dance? Anything like that, that kind of stuff?

"No, no, not really. Never had much time for dancing." He nodded.

"Well, Whaddya do for fun?"

"For fun? I make money," I said. "That's lots of fun." He snickered.

"Yeah, maybe," he said.

We talked a little while longer, but then he got busy, and I was left to thinking about what he'd said. He was right about the gold diggers. That was one of the reasons I got my rocks off with pros like Lana. I'd learned in high school that one couldn't trust the softer sex. Devious didn't even begin to describe them as a group; the occasional exception to the rule notwithstanding. I took stock of myself.

Fifty and rich and dumb looking: pretty much described me. I wasn't tall or handsome or anything that women were likely on the lookout for. Well, at least I wasn't fat; that was something. But again, I was just kinda dumb and nothing looking; I knew it, and it bothered me—a lot.

I needed to change the dumb looking part. New clothes, the man'd said. New clothes but cheap and colorful new clothes. Okay, no problem. I was not at all miffed that Gil had denigrated my three-thousand dollar suit; he was right, I did look like an undertaker. And my car: it screamed old guy, boring, and unimaginative. So, next stops? Stan's Used Cars and Walmart. But, and then what?

I had it! Marge's Dance Studio. It was but three blocks from my office. I passed the damn thing every day. My socialization could start there—maybe.

**

Stan, actually an old high school friend of mine: he the prototypical nerd, me, the other prototypical nerd had each other's backs at Crutchfield High. We'd both skipped college and been successful anyway: he owned four car dealerships, two for used cars and two for new Fords. Me, as earlier described made my money in, well, money. He sold me the ten year-old Silverado for a grand: Faded green, no dents, and a sound drive train. Perfect.

I'd spent a grand to get the pickup, and then I'd driven it to Walmart and spent another grand on clothes. Two days later I found myself nervous, and doubtful of my sanity in front of Marge's Dance and Music Academy.

"Can I help you sir?" said the rail thin thirty something woman, as I entered the largish room.

"You Marge?" I said. She looked like a dancer.

"No, no sir. I just work here," she said.

"Oh. Well, I'd like to take lessons," I said. "How do I go about that?"

"Classes or private," she said. My defenses automatically went up. I didn't want to tip her to my cash position. But, I did want private at least at first; I decided to hedge my bets.

"I don't know," I said. "How much would the private lessons cost?" I figured that if I had to ask that question that the woman would figure I wasn't wealthy. I congratulated myself for my cleverness.

"Private is $7.50 an hour per person. Classes are $25 monthly for three half hour sessions a week," she said. I breathed a sigh of relief. The private lessons weren't that expensive. I could do those without arousing undue suspicion.

"Okay, I'd like to sign up for two private lessons a week," I said.

"Okay," she said. "But evenings are kinda full right now. Would you be able to come in during the day? Mostly housewives during the day and we do have openings then, you know, people have to work." Oops, another unexpected problem.

"Uh—yes," I said. "I work mostly evenings, so days would be okay." She smiled. For the first time I smiled; she was kind of frowsy looking, I decided, but could be pretty with the right kinds of female stuff. Even her voice was pretty.

"Wonderful," she said. "Tuesday and Thursday, say 11:00AM be good for you then?" I nodded.

"Yes, that would be perfect," I said. We talked a little bit longer about the dance teacher that I would have and the kind of dancing that I was interested in, and then said our goodbyes.

Just talking to the woman, I didn't even know her name, tipped me that I had to do more than buy me an ancient pickup and don generic duds. I had to have a job. I had to have workmates, a life, any life, other than the one I had. But, what kind of job. All I ever did was talk on the phone to brokers and drink really fine port wine. Shit! I was virtually without any marketable skills.

Back to Panza's. I needed to talk to Gil a little more, maybe a lot more.

**

"So whaddya think?" said Gilbert. I was slowly nodding.

"Partners, me a silent partner?" I said.

"Yes, and you'd actually be working in the new one, and maybe occasionally here," he said.

"Let me get this straight. I'd front you the money for the new place. I could make my money back since I'd be half owner of the place. And, I'd get to work there as a bartender. That about it?" I said.

"Exactly it. I've wanted to get that place over on Plumber Avenue, Sancho's B&G;, for a long time, but two-hundred grand is a little beyond my reach," he said. "but, between us we could do it."

"But, me a bartender?" I said. I sounded dubious.

"I'll put Bill Philips in there with you for a few weeks until you got a handle on things. Between him and the workforce that's already there you'll be fine."

"Okay, it's a deal. But, no one is to know that I'm part owner. No one. We cool on that?" I said.

"You know we are," said Gil. We shook. I was feeling really good. I didn't even care if the place made money. I had my cover, my job. My lawyer would be making sure I was insulated against any untoward downsides, I.e., being sued or somebody setting me up to rip me off. I trusted Gil, but a hundred grand can cause good folks to go bad. Oh yes, this was a good deal because I was going to see to it that it was.

**

My first dance lesson was an eye opener. I found out that I not only had two left feet; I also had two broken ankles; well, figuratively speaking at least. Talk about a reclamation project, I was it!

But, Samantha Rubens—the girl's name that had signed me up the week before—didn't laugh at me. Turned out she was pretty good at this stuff, and was willing to be my partner for purposes of my private lessons with Mark Hodges, our common instructor. I couldn't have been happier. Mark was a great guy; and, as I soon discovered, more than competent to teach a nothing like me the ropes, but he was definitely not a girl! Samantha was skinny and pretty in spite of her dowdy clothes and minimal female appurtenances. And, she was also a girl!

For the next several weeks we worked on the chacha, the foxtrot, and the swing. Gilbert, my new business partner and social mentor, knew what was going on of course, but had no inkling of where I was at in terms of my newly acquired dance skills. That truth was about to change.

I'd just come on my shift at Sancho's. "How you doing there mister Turner?" said the man who'd come up behind me. And, yes, I was using my real name, no reason not to.

"Gil—mister Misguez," I said. "You startled me." He laughed.

"Sorry about that, Bruce. But, really, how are you doing?"

"Good. No complaints," I said. "Mister Philips has been more than patient." He nodded, and handed me a card, an invitation.

"Company party at my house, next Saturday. Chance for our employees, and their significant others to socialize, have a little fun," he said. He put extra emphasis on the word socialize. I nodded my understanding.

"But—I don't have a significant other?" I said.

"Then you can come and hopefully meet somebody," he said.

"Okay. I can do that, I guess," I said. He could see I was nervous.

"Bruce it'll be good. You'll see," he said. I nodded.

We talked for another minute or two and then he was off to pass out some more of the invitations to the employees. I stood there looking at the card. It would be my first foray into the world of play. I was already nervous and it was still five days off.

**

"A party? A party with you?" said Samantha.

"Yes, it's at my boss' house," I said. She looked at me kind of—what—sympathetically. "I mean it's okay if you have something else to do. I'll understand."

Samantha and I had gotten to know each other in general terms over the previous weeks. She had a ten year-old daughter, Lindsey. She was a native of Florida and had moved to Ohio just two years previous. And she lived within walking distance of the studio.

"Bruce, no offense, but I'm at least four inches taller than you, and… " she stopped. She could see I was already feeling rejected, down.

"Oh what the heck. It's not like I get a lot of invitations to parties these days," she said. "Okay, it's a date."

"Great," I said. "Would you like to get a cup of coffee? I mean right now. There's a Winchell's across the street.

She looked askance at me. "You know, Bruce, most guys ask a girl to go for the cup of coffee before they ask for a full blown date. You actually intrigue me," she said.

"Let's go," I said.

We settled into the worst seats to be found in any restaurant fast food or otherwise in the whole world. But, at that moment, my mind was on one thing and only one thing: how to get this woman who was way out of my league looks-wise—and too young for me—to like me a little, and, to not tip her to who I was other that is, than what I wanted her to know. Okay, that was two things.

"So what do you do for a living, Bruce," she said.

"I tend bar," I said, proudly. Well, I was proud.

"A bartender?" she said. "Figures."

"Figures?" I said.

"No, it's fine. I'm sure you're good at what you do. I was just hoping that you might be a movie star prepping for your next role," she said. I gave her what I was sure was a confused look.

"Oh, you mean the dancing. No, no, not a movie star, I'm afraid. Sorry to disappoint you there," I said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—demean—you or what you do. It's just… " she started. "I know it's silly of me. You know. But, I came north thinking to meet some rich guy who would sweep me off my feet. Just a little girl's dream?" I ignored her fantasizing.

I interrupted her. "Tell me, Samantha, what do you do? I mean I know you work part time at the studio. But—well—how do you get along otherwise? I know you're not married. But otherwise?" I said. She sighed.

"Welfare, me and my daughter, Lindsey. It's hard, but we make do," she said. "Lindsey's only ten; be eleven in a couple of months." I know my face clouded over.

"Like I said I know you're single, but no daddy in evidence to help pay the little girl's way?" I said.

"No, he hightailed it when he found out I was pregnant. That was ten years ago. Sad story that," she said.

"I can imagine," I said. She smiled, but it was a wan smile.

"So, a party then?" she said. "Haven't been to one in a while. Actually, quite a while."

"Yes, definitely, this Saturday. Barbecue at my boss' house. Anyway, if you'll give me your address—unless… " I started.

"Unless?" she said, looking me askance.

"Well we don't know each other very well. I mean I'll know where you live… " She laughed.

"No, no, it's all right. I'm a pretty good judge of character." She took out a slip of paper from her purse and wrote down her particulars and handed it to me. "There," she said. I nodded.

"Looking forward to it," I said. She looked momentarily thoughtful.

"You know, I am too," she said. I felt good.

Web talked two-donuts-each long, maybe half an hour. I learned more about her life and times—hard times. She learned a lot about me, mostly bogus stuff, at least in any true sense of the word.

Talking to her made me know that I had one thing to do that couldn't be put off. I'd be taking care of it as soon as we split up to go home.

**

I was a trifle early to pick her up, and when I did I was very much surprised. She was very pretty and very ready to go to a party informal or not. Long tawny locks, understated and well done makeup, a pink sun dress that stopped a couple of inches above the knees exposing legs that were pretty near perfect, and high heels. She towered over my five-six frame, and I loved it.

The barbecue was in full swing when we arrived. The food smelled good too. "Hope they have some of that good smellin' food left over for us," she said. I looked over at her.

"We're not late. I'm sure that there will be plenty left when we decide to eat. Wait…

"You mean you're hungry? I mean now?" I said. She looked embarrassed. Right then I knew. This woman was really really hard up. And, if she were hard up, her kid at home must have been too. Well, that was something that Bruce Turner, newly become entrepreneur, albeit a secret one, could fix muy pronto.

"No, no, I was just kidding," she said. But, I knew she wasn't kidding.

"No problem," I said. I led her to where Gil was talking to a couple by the makeshift bar.

"Hi mister Misguez," I said. "I'd like to introduce you to a friend." He turned and smiled.

Gil took us on a people tour, maybe forty folks in all scattered around the patio and yard. Done, we headed for the tables where some folks were already chowing done. We got plates, served ourselves and did the same. Sam didn't exactly wolf her food down, but she did pile her plate a little higher than most of the other women did.

We'd just finished eaten, when someone put some music on, and I challenged her to dance on the space evidently provided for it, as two other couples were already so engaged there.

"You two do pretty good there," said some guy we had not yet been introduced to as we headed back to our table after a fast paced chacha.

"Thanks," I said.

"Mind if I borrow your lady for a dance?" he said. I frowned, but looked over at Sam. She was smiling.

"Sure, I guess, if it's all right with the lady," I said. My tone was not real enthusiastic.

It turned out that the man's name was Michael Hoerter. He was actually the boyfriend of one of the bargirls at Panza's. He was some kind of salesman, didn't catch what kind. At any rate, his significant other not being present, Michael, the player, Hoerter was on the prowl. He kept my date on the floor for some three dances in a row. I watched from the table where we'd set up base for ourselves. He did bring her back—eventually.

"Whew! That was nice," she said.

"Nice?" I said. She must have discerned, from my tone, that I was not thrilled.

"Bruce? Are you—we—okay here?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I just missed you. You were gone kinda long, but it's fine," I said. She nodded, but it was a slow nod.

The rest of the party was good. Hoerter did dance with her twice more over the course of the afternoon, not in a row, and we did our thing too. Anyway, I had no call to be jealous or possessive, or whatever they were calling it these days.But, I didn't like Hoerter: too pushy, too much of an in-your-face kind of guy. No, I decided, I didn't like him.

It was quiet for the fifteen minute drive back to her place to drop her off. A little small talk of the, "Wasn't it a nice party?" variety. But, apart from that, not much. I did get a small kiss from her when I walked her to her door, yes on the lips, but it had no passion in it. Well hell, I hadn't expected any. It'd be Tuesday before we saw each other again at the dance studio. I had a plan.

**

"So, mister Gates, do you think you can handle it then?" I said.

"Sure no problem. I'll be getting back to you in a couple of days, he said. "He" was Norman Gates." Norman Gates was supposedly the best PI in the city. And okay, yes, I was butting into her affairs. And, I was butting into the affairs of her daughter's sperm donor of a father too. After what she'd told me at the donut shop, I'd made up mind to butt in.

**

I arrived a little early for our dance lesson. Mark was all business. And, I was getting better; hell, I thought lot better. But, Mark wanted more. Sam smiled at my attempt to do the grapevine during our Swing run through. I was getting it, well I thought so, but I guess I looked a little clumsy early on. Well, whaddya gonna do.

Lesson over I pulled Sam aside. "Hey, Sam, interested in maybe getting a bite to eat?" I said.

"Uh—Bruce—I… " she started.

"Hey Brucie," came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Michael Hoerter, walk up to us. "Ready, babe?" he said.

"Sorry, Bruce. Maybe another time?" she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. Childish, I know, but I was starting to break up: I could feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I just walked over to where I'd parked my stuff and pretended to tend to them, just hoping that two of them would just leave. I got my hope. Mark noticed.

"Hey guy, don't let it get to you. There's lots of fish in the sea. You'll catch yours. You're a good guy, and your dancing is getting a lot better," he said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. But, I got out of there as fast as I could.

It was illogical as hell. I knew it. But, what was also true was that her turning me down and going out with Hoerter broke my heart. I hadn't realized it, but I had fallen for her—hard. I decided that I'd had my last dance lesson. I wouldn't be going back. I'd email Mark of my intention to stop when I got home. I was sure Mark wouldn't miss me, he'd fill the time spot easy enough. What was also apparently true, Samantha wouldn't miss me either.

**

Norman Gates sat across from me. Sancho's wasn't busy it was still early, not yet 4:00PM. "You had it pretty well pegged," he said, "at least in broad terms. She's thirty-five, dirt poor, living on food stamps and in government subsidized housing. The kid's, eleven years-old, okay in school but nothing extra. Mom's tried to get a job where she'd be off when the kid got out of school each day, but so far no luck. All in all, she, they're, surviving but barely," he said.

"And the father?" I said.

"Yes, well he evidently was the sperm donor. The two of them were not married. And, he did up and cut out when she informed him that he was going to be a daddy. And, before you ask, an abortion was not happening; she's a bible beating Catholic. Anyway, the guy's name is Elton Parker age forty. Unemployed at the moment: drinking on the job. Lives a couple of towns over, just east of here. The address, if you want it, is in the envelope. He nodded toward the manila envelope on the table between us.

"I see. I want to thank you for being so quick to get this done. I appreciate it. If I ever need a PI again, you'll be the one I call," I said. We said our goodbyes; he left, and I went back to work. I was a bartender after all.

I had the information I'd asked for, and now I didn't know what I wanted to do with it. Had Sam and I become an item, I had intended to do something, but now…?

**

It was two weeks later that I had a visitor. "Hi Bruce," said Samantha. "Kind of a long time no see."

I was speechless for what seemed forever, but it was likely something more like thirty seconds.

"Well, hi to you too," I said. "You look very nice tonight."

"Thank you. Miss you over at Marge's studio," she said.

"Nice of you to say so. But, I just—well—I just figured I've gotten as much as I hoped to out of it is all. It was time to do something else," I said. I was hoping she wouldn't push it. I hoped in vain.

"Oh, and what else might that be, Bruce?" she said. Okay, I guess I had to lay it out there. I hadn't gotten to where I was—in real life—being a pussy.

"Look, Sam, the truth is that that day…"

"Michael asking me out kinda messed us up. Huh?" she said.

"Well, since you put it out there. Yeah," I said. "I mean I'm not blind or stupid. He's young like you, not bad looking, and knows how to be with—well—the ladies. I, on the other hand, am considerably older than you, not very good looking, and a klutz when it comes to the ladies. What's to choose? It's gotta be him coming in first. Me? A distant second in that particular two horse race." She gave me a smile that screamed disgust.

"Jesus, this is worse than I thought. What are you, Bruce, A sophomore in high school!" she said. "You never gave me to believe that you felt so strongly. Yes, you invited me to a company barbecue. Did that equate with feelings of love eternal! Please tell me. Because if so, I've been doing this all wrong for the—well—my entire life; and, my mother lied to me! So, yeah, please tell me." I felt like an idiot. Everything she said made sense.

"Well I… " I started.

"Look I could be way off base here, Bruce, but I'm going to take my shot. I'm going to gamble. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, I guess," I said.

"You're not a kid. Okay, and yes, you are quite a bit older than me. And too, the fact is you're not real expert in the boy-girl thing." she said.

"Okay, so?" I said.

"And you are looking to get a bit better at stuff like that, right?" she said. "That's why the dancing."

"Okay, and again so?" I said.

"And, you think of me as yours. Your girl, right?" she said.

"Uh-well…"

Right or wrong, just get it out, Bruce," she said.

"Okay, I guess so, kinda. I mean before. Well, I mean you asked," I said. She sagged back against the wall and looked at me. I'm sure I was sporting puppy dog eyes. She nodded slowly her understanding of the situation.

"Okay then. You'll have to get me a ring," she said. "Don't make it too expensive. I mean I'm sure you make good enough bucks as a bartender, but I'm not necessarily into showing off, and I want a honeymoon. Okay?" I stood there and stared.

"Huh?" I said.

"You want me to be your woman, right?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, regaining a fully conscious state.

"Okay then… " she started.

"Samantha, will you marry me?" I said, as I fell to my knees in front of her. She smiled.

"Finally," she said. "Yes, I will marry you, Bruce." Then as if she were talking to herself. "A fucking bartender. Well, you're honest and passionate and employed. And not too bad a dancer." I gave her a look that showed my confusion at her words.

"Come on, get up off your knees, young man. I might be your woman, but you are also my man. So, get up here and kiss me and act like it," she said.

I did as she commanded me and that was that. I was engaged and I didn't even know for sure if I wanted to be. But, I was, and—well—I was feeling good. So, I guess I did want to be.

But, now I had a problem. She is definitely marrying me based on my temporary persona, but how, when, and should I even tell her about the real me.

We talked some more over the next few days. And the decision was made. I mean we were planning on getting married in three months. Her family in Florida has been alerted, and they—mainly her grandma—wants us to get married down there. They're poor people, but evidently good people. We'd have to be seeing about that. And a prenup? Common sense said yes. But is that any way to start a life with one's life's partner? Talk about a mess. All because of my money.

Being engaged brought about three results: one, our dancing lessons resumed and we—read me—did improve; two, Samantha became more or less of a fixture at Sancho's; and three, I was introduced to Lindsey who seemed more interested than pleased that I had been added to the mix.

I had dates with several different people over the few days following my engagement to Samantha, and no not women, well except one. Number one was Gil: he laughed so hard he almost cried.

"So, you lasted what three months before some gal put a collar on you," he said. "Well, she is a pretty thing, a little on the skinny side, but good looking."

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Gil, I want to do this, right?" I said.

"Probably not a good idea so soon, but looking at it, I'm of the opinion that you could've done worse," he said. I nodded.

"Well, I've got a few months to undo the plans if I decide not to go through with it," I said. "I mean if I can be that big of an asshole." He nodded.

My second meet up with was with Lana. No, not for sex, but for advice.

"You're kidding right?" she said. "At your age you're looking for a housemate? Forget it stud. Take it from a pro who knows all facets of the game, for you it's a mistake. Some guys need a full time woman, but you are most definitely not one of them. You've gotten along for more than half of your life without it. Get real. If you want to marry somebody, marry me."

"You? You want to marry me?" I said.

"Sure. I don't know what you do for a living, but I know you make enough to support me. And, I'm actually fond of you. You're considerate and sweet, and more, you're not boring. So sure. Give me a call when you've got me the ring," she said. And, then she laughed long and hard.

My third meeting was with Lou Goetz, my all-purpose lawyer: aged, experienced, connected, and ruthless; my kind of guy. "You let me worry about the prenup, and yes you definitely are going to have one. I insist on it," he said. "And, don't worry, about her thinking you're being indelicate. I know how to do these things; it's all a matter of timing. I'll give you a heads up when I want you to bring her in." I nodded. At least Lou didn't laugh; he only smiled kinda big.

The fourth in line for a meeting was Norman Gates, my very favorite PI. "Yes, I need to know who she's talking to and what she says about me. I have no illusions, Norm. She's marrying me for security, and I'm marrying her because she's attractive and interesting. Do I love her? I don't know. And by that I mean that I don't really know what love is. If that makes any sense," I said. He nodded.

"Consider it done," he said. I looked him askance.

"What no laughter?" I said, and I was being half serious.

"Huh?" he said.

"Everybody else is laughing at me for proposing to the woman; well, except my lawyer; he only smiled. But he's a hundred years old and my story probably bores him," I said. Norm finally smiled and settled back in his at least $1,000 desk chair.

"No, I'm not laughing. Do I think you may be rushing things? Yeah a little. But, I've checked her out remember, and she came up squeaky clean, hard up, but squeaky clean. You could have chosen much worse," he said.

"Thanks," I said. "I kinda needed to hear that little bit of encouragement if that's what it was." He nodded.

"It was," he said.

**

"So you're going to marry the guy?" said Michael Hoerter.

"Yes, You won't marry me, and he's a good guy. So yes," said Samantha Rubens.

"What about us? We still gonna be able to get together from time to time?' he said.

"She went to her knees in front of him. She undid his belt and pulled down his zipper. "Does this answer your question?" she said, as she pulled down his pants.

He leaned back against the credenza as she pulled his underpants down exposing his penis, his nine inch penis to her view.

"I never get tired of seeing this," she said. Taking hold of it, she let it slip between her lips. She began sucking on it slowly, teasingly.

**

I didn't exactly have a date with her, but since the engagement, she'd always come in on Friday nights, And when I'd gotten off work, usually around eight, we'd usually gone either to her place or mine to play. But tonight she didn't show. But, he did.

"You said you wanted to be kept up to date on what was going on with her," said Norman. I nodded, and my look must have cued him.

"Sorry man, but she just went into a motel room with that interloper, Hoerter," said Norman.

"Fuck!" I said. "Well, I guess it's better to find out that shit now than after the fact."

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"Too late to get evidence?" I said.

"My boots on the ground are taking care of that as we speak," he said.

"Thanks, Norm. I owe you. You saved me from making a huge mistake. I guess when it comes to the boy-girl stuff I really am an amateur," I said. He laughed.

"Guy, all us guys are amateurs when it comes to the ladies," he said. I just nodded, slowly.

Normally, I would have gone to her place before midday Saturday. We always did stuff together on the weekends. Today was Saturday; I didn't go and I didn't call.

I did get a couple of voicemails from her that I didn't respond to. I think she must've gotten the message because she showed up at the bar on Monday afternoon just as I came on.

"Bruce? What's going on," she said. Well, if nothing else, my so called fiancé was not one to beat around the bush.

"You tell me?" I said, putting the ball in her court.

"Huh? Whaddya mean?" she said.

"You didn't show up Friday night. I took that to mean you were breaking up with me," I said.

"What? What are you talking about? Did we have a date I wasn't aware of?" she said.

"I thought we did, but I guess I was wrong. I mean about me having a date. But of course you had one. Right?" I said.

"Huh?"

"With Hoerter, at the Palms motel. Right?" I said. She paled, but recouped quickly.

"Oh my. You think—you think that I am leaving you for someone else. That's it right?" she said. "Well, I'm not. You're my guy, not Hoerter, not anyone else. Now, does that clear things up between us?" my state of incredulity had to have been obvious. She took on an exasperated expression.

"Come on, Bruce, you didn't think that that man could have any hope of taking your place did you?" she said.

"Looks to me like he has, at least between your legs," I said.

She sighed. "You men. Yes, I let him screw me. Have since that day at the barbecue. But it's nothing but meaningless sex, fun, but utterly without commitment. You need to get your head around that my man," she said.

"Huh? My head around—what?" I said.

"Look, Brucie, you and I are great together. But, well, I'm still young. I need a bit more on the sexual side of things than a man your age can give me. Add to that that I never deny you when—you know—you want something. You always have first dibs," she said.

"What the hell? First dibs? Aren't married people—and engaged people—supposed to be exclusive when it comes to sex?" I said. "I swear I've read that somewhere." Now, I was being sarcastic. That exasperated look again.

"Bruce, get this, there-is-no-threat-to-you in anything I am doing on the side. No threat, Bruce. Get that. Oh, and I know you get off at eight. I want to go to the Hyatt for a late dinner. Okay?"

"The Hyatt?"

"Yes, it's our six month anniversary," she said, and smiled. I stood there stunned, as she turned and walked off.

She was going to be unpleasantly surprised. I'd be going out for a late dinner right enough, but not at the Hyatt and not with her. I gave Lana a call.

**

"So, you get me my ring yet?" said Lana.

"You have to prove to me that you're not just after my money," I said, laughing.

"Well, fuck you," she said, also laughing. "I'm bettin' I've got a lot more money than you."

"Well, then if that's true, maybe I'll marry you for your money," I said.

The food came and we had a ball telling each other lies and laughing and kissing the night away. And then there was the after dinner sex. Oh my, and that was something.

She swayed in front of me. I was more than glad that my apartment's front room was spacious: she needed it for the dance she was performing. I was so horny when she was done that I grabbed her and all but threw her down on the floor. I ripped her panties off and pushed a finger inside of her. She mooed.

I lay half on top of her kissing her as I fingered her pussy. "You gonna get serious little man," she said.

"Woman, you just condemned yourself to one cruel as hell screwing," I said.

"Writing checks your dick can't cash," she laughed. That got me. I aimed, struck home, and drilled her with everything I had: hard, fast, and well maybe not so deep. But, no one could fault my enthusiasm. And, I did last. Her face took on a shocked expression as an orgasmic typhoon swept her away.

"How about that," I said, more than satisfied with my performance.

"Indeed," she said. "And your fiancé finds fault with that! Excuse me. You maybe lack something, Darling, but fuckmanship ain't it," said Lana. "Still, I will say that that was maybe your best performance ever, at least with me," said Lana.

"Thanks," I said. "My ego needed that even if I didn't." She smirked.

Afterwards we nibbled on cheese crackers, sipped port wine, and went to bed satisfied and—something—happy maybe.

**

I expected it of course. She was at Sancho's before I even came on. "Can we talk?" she said.

"I don't see why. If you think I'm going to put up with your nonsense you have another think coming," I said. She shook her head slowly from side to side.

"Brucie, Brucie, Brucie. What do I have to do to convince you that sex with Hoerter is no threat to you whatsoever? He's nothing compared to you," she said. I had to smile inwardly at just how totally right she absolutely was.

"He gets your pussy that's more than a threat to me, that's a declaration of war, as far as I'm concerned, Sam. You want him? You got him. You just can't have me too," I said.

"Bruce, how about if I give him up. Would that solve our little problem?" she said.

"Why?" I said.

"Why what?' she said.

"Why would you give him up if he's so much better in bed than me? I mean you said it yourself; I'm too old to service you properly," I said.

"Yes, and to be honest that's the reason I let him have me. You're okay, Bruce. But, Hoerter can go three and four times a night. I get maybe twice from you on a good night. But, all of the being true, and it is, it is not worth losing the love of my life over. Okay!" she said.

She'd just said the one thing—maybe—that might convince me to take a chance. "Love of your life?" I said.

"Yes. I know what I've got in you. A guileless, hardworking, and gentle soul who will take care of me and treat me well," she said.

Guileless? Well two out of three ain't bad, I thought. "How do I know I can trust you?" I said.

"How about this: I give up Hoerter and sign a prenup that if I ever cheat, you divorce me, and I walk with only the stuff I bring into the marriage?" she said. "How about that?" I nodded.

"Okay. I guess I have to take a chance. Just one chance, Sam. And Sam, I'll know if you do cheat. Count on it," I said. She smiled, but there was something in the smile that bespoke arrogance: I'd seen it before from traders, and usually the ones that ate the weenie big time. But, I let it slide.

**

"Okay, I'll bite, said Samantha. "Why are we here at the lawyer's?" she was looking right at Lou when she said it, but I answered her.

"To put together that prenup you mentioned the other day," I said.

"You're really going to ask me to sign one of those then?" she said. "I mean I thought that after last night that maybe…"

"It was your idea Sam, and it does remove a ton of doubt about the wisdom of trusting you. Especially after all of the things you said about my sexual inadequacies," I said. "Are you saying now that you didn't mean the stuff you said the other night?"

"Well I—okay—never mind. Let's do it," she said.

"Yes indeed," said Lou." Sam, It's the one big thing that Bruce couldn't recover from, I mean a cheating wife. He'd likely be over the hill by the time it happened to him. As his friend I don't want to see him ruined financially as well as destroyed emotionally," said Lou.

"I see," said Samantha.

"Probably not," said Lou. "There are some things you don't know. Lou isn't just a bartender at Sancho's; well, he is, but not only that. He's also part owner of the place, and he has outside money. That's how he was able to buy into the bar. Are you with me so far, Sam?" She was nodding.

"I think so. So, the prenup, if I go for it, what will it do." She said.

"It's pretty simple actually. Bruce wanted it that way. If you stay married for life, it does nothing; it becomes void. If you cheat, whether you divorce or not; you end up with nothing but what you brought into the marriage. If he cheats whether you divorce or not, you get his interest in the bar, and half of everything you accumulate during the marriage.

"Any children, including your daughter, Sam, are also provided for as you will see in the documents: education health, the usual. Bruce is asking you to take the papers to a lawyer of your choice and have he or she looked at it. Additionally, there are other stipulations in the docs you'll want to consider. Again, mostly standard stuff dealing with abuse of various kinds and the like. Like I said, you need to have your lawyer look over the papers and get back to me.

"Sound okay?" he said.

"I guess. I didn't know Lou had other money. I really didn't. I mean I knew he was employed. But, frankly, such is certainly not a deal breaker for me. And, Bruce, I will not be cheating. I'm afraid you're going to be stuck with me," she said.

"Good," I said. I had managed to keep my mouth shut, on Lou's orders. Of course with what Lou'd already revealed, I knew that she and I would be talking, probably talking long.

**

"Well, it looks like I'm marrying me a Tycoon," she said somewhat facetiously.

"Damn straight," I said. She laughed. "She thought I was kidding. I was not about to disabuse her of her beliefs.

"And, I was worried that I might be making a mistake marrying a bartender. Goes to show one, doesn't it," she said. It was not a question. "Can I ask, just how rich are you?"

"It's relative, but very," I said. I would not give her an accurate figure; I knew she couldn't handle numbers like that. But, I had to at least imply it in order to cover myself in the vent of—well—a bad eventuality.

**

"So how did it pan out, your investigation?" I said.

"Okay. She has quite a few friends, many of whom you are slated to meet before your big event. The friends are both good and bad," said Norm.

"Bad?" I said.

"Well, party animals. The kind that often end up causing divorces and cheating and all the usual. No drugs though, so that's a positive."

"How about Sam? Is she a party animal?" I said.

"Not in recent times, but evidently there had been a day. It was when she was a lot younger, mid-twenties." He said. I was feeling good. The data was supporting my hopes.

And then we were married. And I did bond with my stepdaughter. And the sex was excellent; well, it was for me. I hoped it was for her. I tried my best. And for two years, my best was good enough; and, then I guess it wasn't. Why would I think that? Because I heard her talking smack about me.

**

"He's short, too damn old, damn near dickless, and very demanding when it comes to using my twat," said my wife of going on three years.

"Then why did you marry the loser," said the friend seated to her left at our dinette table.

There were five of them in all. I knew the visitors pretty well: they were often over for coffee or drinks or dinner or all three. Lori and Stacy were accountants. Deidre was a dance teacher form the studio. And, Rhoda was a care giver to an aged rich guy. The one asking the question was Rhoda. The lot of them were single except for my wife. And, all were in their mid to late thirties except Deidre who was in her early forties.

They hadn't heard me come in. I was standing in the kitchen. My heart had just been broken into very small pieces. But, I was in control of my emotions, barely, but I was in control. I decided to just stay where I was and continue to listen.

"Why did I marry him? Because he was willing and able to take care of me and Lindsey; I needed him or someone like him. I was hard up, getting older fast, with damn few prospects," said Samantha.

"You're a good looking woman. You could have had your pick," said Rhoda.

"Get this. Yes, a lot of guys hit on me. They wanted in my pants right enough. But none of them wanted my baggage. Bruce didn't bat an eyelash. He accepted me and my baggage with me. All I had to do was make his day in bed. And, I do," said Sam.

"Doesn't he ever get suspicious about Carlson or Richard or that other guy?" said Stacy.

"Hell no. I am very careful. If he knew I'd be ruined: the prenup. No, so long as I take care of business at home, I can play and not have any worries about him finding out.

"I just consider it a job. A body doesn't always like the work they have to do, but they still have to do it regardless," she said.

"Sloppy seconds for him?" said Deidre.

"Occasionally, but not all that often really," said Sam. The all laughed. I made a decision.

I would join them. I headed into the dinette and took a seat at the table with them. The sudden silence was palpable.

"What, not even a hello, Sam? I mean if you're going to take care of business, I mean if I'm just a job, shouldn't it at least start with a little politeness?" I said.

"Bruce I… " she started. I smiled.

"It's okay," I said.

"Bruce, please. It's not what you think," she said. Now I laughed.

"Short, old, dickless, demanding? Carlson—and the other guys?" I said. "Did I miss anything?"

The others began recovering from their respective comas and made to be leaving. I didn't want that.

"No, no ladies, please keep your seats. Well, I mean if you care about what happens to Samantha and my marriage. I might be willing my to forget my hurt if you all would retake your seats and hear me out," I said.

"Bruce? What's going on? What are you going to do?" said Sam.

"You pretty much destroyed my heart just now, Sam. Whaddya think I should do?" I said.

"We need to talk, and we need to do it in private?" she said. "We can get by this." I thought I heard a snicker.

"Bruce, Sam is right. This is between the two of you," said Norma. "You need to talk it out."

"Exactly," I said. "But, I still need an answer to my question, Sam?"

"What question?" she said.

"How do you think I should feel, react?" I said.

"Like I said by talking it out," she pleaded.

"Yes, I agree we need to talk. But, since you seem to have included your friends here in your thinking; I'd like a chance to include them in my thinking. Fair enough ladies?" I said. I looked around the table. I held each of them individually with my gaze for a few seconds. They looked at each other and settled back into their seats.

"Thank you," I said.

Sam looked stricken. "How about you ladies. All of you think I'm as nothing as Sam does?"

"Bruce, what Sam said, what we all think, is just girl nonsense. All of us complain about our men. It's the battle of the sexes thing," said Rhoda. "For the record I know you guys talk the same smack that we do, worse even."

"Hmm, you have a point, Rhoda. But not every man cheats on his wife. And not many men would put up with being cuckolded. But me? Well, I'm a pussy when it comes to my wife, so I want to salvage things if I can," I said.

"Bruce?" said Sam. Her voice was filled with hope. I held up my hand to short shank her.

"Ladies, Sam, I am willing to forgive and forget. I mean it. But, there's a condition, a price."

"A condition?" said Sam.

"I want to fuck all of your friends here. If they agree, I'll just consider it water under the bridge and we get on with the business of living," I said. All of a sudden I had a verbal riot on my hands.

"How dare you!" screamed Norma. "I have never cheated on my husband. I'm not going to start now."

"Really? Never cheated on Cal? What if I told you I knew about Marcus Williams," I said. The look on her face was heartwarming. "And the rest of you? Got any skeletons? Want me to go looking?"

"Bruce, we like you. We really do, all of us," said Stacy. "We were just talking smack. Stupid stuff. Meaningless stuff. Okay?"

"Absolutely. So, shall we all get naked?" I said. Renewed verbal riot. Rhoda and Norma stormed out, though Norma looked back at me as she exited. I think she was trying to gauge whether or not I really knew anything and if so how much about her and Marcus Williams.

Deidre was next to leave. "I'm sorry we hurt you, Bruce. Please forgive me," she said, and then she was gone.

"And you Stacy? You gonna run off too?" I said. She rose and looked at me for a long minute.

"Call me if you really do want a piece of my ass," she said, and then she was gone.

And, then we were alone. I sat there half smiling at my maybe soon to be ex-wife.

"Bruce?"

"Just a job you have to do? That's it, Sam?" She looked down and then up.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. You were never meant to hear any of that shit, and that's all it was," she said. I nodded my understanding.

"Really?" I said. "I mean it isn't really the way you feel?"

"Hell no it's not," she said. "I actually love you."

"Hmm. I wonder," I said.

"No need to wonder it's the truth," she said.

"And Carlson and Richard?" I said.

"Mistakes. Big ones," she said. "They're history, the men.

"Honey, I know I'm going to have to work my ass off to prove to you that I love you. I'm a stinker; I admit it. Just give me a chance to make it up to you. Okay?"

"Your men, you mean that they've been history for a long while or just as of now," I said. She looked away.

"As of now," she said. I nodded.

"And, I'm supposed to believe you," I said.

"Hopefully," she said.

"Hmm, okay. This once. But…"

"I know, if it happens again, you'll destroy me. Right?" she said. I didn't say anything.

The thank you sex was amazing. She lay with her legs drawn back and grunting every time I drove myself into her. I felt her shiver just as I unloaded myself inside of her. I wondered what that meant because it sure as hell was better than any we'd had lately!

We slept in late the next day. It was Saturday and Sam had a hair dresser's appointment. Lindsey and I were slated to go to the zoo.

Things once again fell into a routine and I began to relax.

**

"He let it go! He let all of those put downs go!" said Stacy Armitage.

"Believe me, I can't believe it either," said Samantha.

"No revenge, no threats, no demands? Really?" said Stacy.

"No, nothing," said Samantha. "Well, except for one helluva a night of sex. I owed him that, and I gave it to him."

"Girl, if you do end up breaking up with him, I'm gonna be taking your place," said Stacy.

"No chance, Stacy. I know what I've got in that man, and I'm not letting him go," she said.

"Carlson's been asking about you," said Stacy.

"Well, there's no way. Not for a while at any rate. I can't risk it. Tell him to chase after some other chickee. I'm busy saving my marriage," said Sam. Stacy gave her a look.

"Okay," said her friend.

**

Sam and I did walk softly around each other for a few days, but I was Determined to have my cake and eat it too one way or another. To achieve that particular goal, I figured, would require a very delicate hand.

One, I had decided to keep her. The reality was that I was pretty much everything she'd called me. I was short, I did have but a five inch dick, and I was almost fifty-three years-old. However, I did feel very strongly that I would be more than justified in taking issue with the demanding part. I was "not" all that demanding. Yes, I liked to have sex with her, but demanding? Whenever she'd said no, I'd backed off. I might have taken issue with the old part too, but I suppose that would have to remain a matter of perception. And then there was number two.

I had saved her skinny ass, and for that matter that of her daughter. Frankly, I deserved to be respected, and yes damn it, loved too.

The delicate part in my knightly quest, was the fact that I was going to do nothing in terms of exacting revenge of any kind. Nor, was I going to go whining and crying or pissing my pants because the woman I loved didn't, apparently, appreciate me. I was going to subscribe to that old dictum: that "No one can resist generosity forever." I planned to kill her with kindness and love and above all respect.

The sex after that first night of makeup sex was not real extraordinary. Partly, I knew, because I was still feeling basically low. I did not want her to screw me because I wanted it. I wanted her to screw me because we both wanted it. Trouble was, how did I know if and when that she wanted it. Talk about catch-22s. But tonight was six months since the hit to my ego and things had gotten back to something approximating normal.

I watched as she undressed. She had always slept in pajamas, that ever since our wedding night. She'd be naked only on nights when we did the dirty. She slipped into bed sans the night gown.

"Make love to me, Brucie. Please. I need it. I really do," she said.

"My pleasure dear wife," I said.

"Lie on your belly," I said. She did and I switched positions so that I could play with her butt. I felt the heat of her anus as I impaled her on one of my fingers. I kissed and licked her crack while my finger massaged her insides. She moaned. I pulled my finger out and licked and sucked at the hole itself. She was pushing herself back at my face.

"That's a good bit," she said. "Keep doing that. I really like it." I flipped her over and ministered to her clit. Backing up, I poked at her slit and my cock slid in easily.

"Screw me big guy, screw me like you mean it," she said. I wasn't too enamored of her 'big guy' comment, but I did begin drilling her for all I was worth.

It took me some minutes to unload inside of her, but I finally did. And, as I did, she began bucking wildly. I think she was trying to get off.

I collapsed on top of her and took a deep breath. "You make it?" I gasped. I knew she hadn't.

"Sure. You bet," she said. "It was a big one too." She was lying, but she was doing it to make me feel better. I'm not sure how I felt about that.

We slept the sleep of the hopeful; I sure did at any rate.

**

Over the next few months the sex remained pretty good. I was never able to make her cum, which by the way was not for a lack of trying. I worked my ass off trying to get her there, but I just couldn't seem to do it. Still she seemed to enjoy herself that was something. At any rate, things between us were working themselves out; well, that's what I thought. It turned out I was kinda wrong about that.

**

I had her dead to rights. I could unload her on her no problem. Lou still had the cannon loaded from before. And no, this ting now was not because of the problem we'd faced some eight months gone. No indeed. It was my gut reaction to what I'd discovered but three-point-five minutes ago. And the damnable worst thing about it wasn't the cheating. Oh no. It was the cheating with Hoerter! And, the jokes he was making at my expense and her laughing right along with him. Those killed my heart—again. And yet, for some damn reason, and I couldn't explain it, the whole sordid scene amused me. Oh, I was mad, incensed really. But, the whole scene was so funny. These two were really really dumbos; all they lacked were ears big enough for them to flap and fly with.

"Bruce! Please Bruce, wait!" she screamed. Languidly leaning against the door jamb, I watched as she desperately dressed. As for his assholeship; he'd fallen on his ass twice trying to pull his pants on. I would have laughed, but it didn't seem the polite thing to do.

Hoerter finally got himself enough together to get his ass out of our house. Samantha and I were alone. I was still leaning against the door jamb. She was now dressed and standing in the middle of the room, hands at her sides watching me. God how vulnerable she looked.

"And?" I said. She swallowed, no doubt trying to get her words arranged in her head. This was going to be a toughie for her for sure. Oh yeah, a serious toughie.

"You weren't supposed to see that. You weren't supposed to be here," she said. I nodded.

"Yeah, how inconsiderate of me. I'll call next time. You know, give you a heads up so you'll have a chance to clean up and get that shithead out of the house. How would that be," I said.

"Bruce? Are you going to kick me out?" she said.

"You know, I'm not sure. I should just unload your skanky ass and get on with things. But, I'm not sure. Let me ask you, do you want to stay with me? I mean and not with him anymore?" I said.

"Yes, I want to stay with you. Are you—are you—are you going to let me?" she said. I nodded.

"Does shithead have a cell phone?" I said.

"Yes." she said.

"Okay, ring it and tell him to never call you, see you, be anywhere around you ever again. And, make him think you're alone, that I've gone out to get drunk or something. I want him to try and convince you to just be sneakier. Oh, and put that fancy android of yours on speaker because I want to hear what he's saying. Am I clear?" I said.

"Yes sir," she said. She picked up her 'droid and hit a preset number—how fucking convenient.

"Hello?" I heard him say.

"Hi. Michael, I've got make this short and sweet," she started

"He there?" he said, interrupting her.

"No, I'm alone. He's mad. I think he went out to get a drink, maybe a lot of drinks. Michael, you and I have to end it. As of now it's over. We played and now I'm going to have to pay. He's really mad," she said.

"Can't we just be more careful? I admit doing it in your house like that was a risk. Stupid-stupid-stupid me asking you to do it there," he said.

"Michael, no we can't just be more careful. We're done. Find some other woman to chase. I'm gonna be spending many years just trying to get him to trust me again. So please, don't call me, try to see me, nothing. Okay?" she said.

"Okay," he said. "But, I'll be around when little dick lightens up. You know how to get hold of me," he said.

"Michael, it's over…"

"You know, you should have tried going for our plan B," he said.

"Yeah, like that was ever going to happen. Michael, I have to go. We're done. Please respect my wishes here. Goodbye." She hung up.

"Plan B," I said. She looked down.

"Sam? Plan B?" I repeated.

"It was nothing, just one of his cockamamie ideas. I told him to forget it when he first brought it up, and each and every time he's brought it up since," she said.

"Each and every time… " I said, letting my meaning hang in the air. Once again she looked away.

"You've been with shithead how many times before?" I said. This was getting good.

"Bruce it's over between him and me. Really, there will be no more sex or meetings of any kind with him ever again," she said.

"Hmm, and plan B?" I was pushing it.

"Bruce, please, stop it. It was nothing. I never even considered it. Just stop it, okay?" Now she was getting mad, which, under the circumstances, seemed odd as hell.

I remained calm and spoke softly. "Last chance, Plan B?" I said. She was wringing her hands. She began to pace.

"He, well, he thought—imagined—that you might want to join in with us. You know a threesome thing. Like I said, a stupid idea from the gitgo and never even considered by me. Never!" she said. I nodded.

"Why would he have wanted such a thing?" I said.

"Hell, I don't know. I guess he thought that we, he and I, could do it more often maybe. I mean if you were in the mix. But I don't really know. The conversation never got that far. I never let it get that far," she said.

"Interesting," I said.

"Bruce, are we okay. You gonna give this cunt another chance?" she said.

"Momma?" came a voice from the kitchen. Lindsey was home. Bruce would you go see to Lindsey. I need to get dressed. Please?" she said. I smiled, nodded, and headed off to entertain her kid for the next short while.

**

When one is fifty-three years old and looking for a mate, a soulmate if you will, it's hard to walk away from such a one once she'd—in my case—been identified. Samantha was my soulmate; I was sure of it. She was also a slut, and she had become one, if I had it right, some time back. She'd become one and she liked being one, and that dear reader is what I was confronted with. Could she give up this Hoerter guy—really? I had to hope so.

**

"My mom likes you too, you know," said the little girl.

"Too?" I said.

"You and that tall guy. Michael," said Lindsey. All of a sudden I had a bad feeling. I decided to take a flyer.

"Oh yeah, I know about him. But, at least he doesn't come around here, I guess," I said.

"No, not often. Maybe once a week or so. You're here all of the time, so you have dibs," said Lindsey.

"Dibs?" I said. "What dibs?"

"On my mom, silly," said Lindsey. "He's an okay guy. Mom says he makes her feel good. But, she doesn't trust him. She only trusts you."

"Feel good?" I was talking, no holding a serious conversation, with an eleven year old kid that seemed to be more worldly-wise than me! Helluva a not.

"Really? Once a week is all," I said.

"Yes. Only on Tuesday because that's the day you go to work in the morning. Mom knows you wouldn't like him being around when you're here," she said.

"No, I wouldn't," I said. Tomorrow was Tuesday. I would be taking some time off from work to see if I could nail the bastard banging my wife.

"But, she likes you best," said Lindsey. I knew she thought that she was reassuring me. Maybe had a feeling that what her mom was doing was not good.

"And, how may I ask do you know all of this?" I said.

"I came home sick once and I met him. Mom told me stuff after he left," she said. "Mom and I always tell each other stuff."

I had to think that this was stuff that momma would rather have not had her daughter in the know about. But, once the cat was out of the bag; well, anyway, now the kid did know. And, now I knew. Fucking wonderful!

**

I'd left on time, 7:00AM, as usual. I knew from what Lindsey implied that the asshole would show up around 9:00AM, probably have coffee with my soon to be ex and then they'd head for the bedroom and desecrate my marriage bed. I'd probably get a call around the time he got there. She'd been calling me at work On Tuesday mornings for some time: the only day of the week I went in early. I had to figure it was to assure herself that I was at work and not going to be interrupting their little tryst. Hence, I was at work, as usual; I'd be taking the call if she made one. Then, I would be taking a sick day.

"Bruce, the phone. It's wifey, said Janie, my morning back up. Janie, Juan the cook, and Lisa and Helen were there for the breakfast crowd. The bar wouldn't open until 4:00PM, but Sancho's was open 6:00AM to 2:00AM seven days a week; but, only food and nonalcoholic drinks until 4:00PM.

"Hi, honey," said Sam, "just calling to say hello."

"Backatcha," I said. "Got a full day?"

"No, not really. Just stuff around her to take care of," she said.

"Well, I do," I said. "Got a ton to do today. It's gonna be crazy I just know it."

"Huh? Well, take care of yourself, and don't work too hard," she said. "I'm planning on giving you a workout when you get home, young man," she said.

"Okay, you be good. See yuh later. Bye," I hung up.

I wondered if her plans for me included sloppy seconds. Probably not. She'd shower before I got home. No use being too in my face about what she was doing to me. I smiled. I wasn't happy, but I was ready.

I parked behind his car on the street and headed inside. They were in the spare bedroom. Jesus were they being loud. I sat outside the room and listened. The little, but very expensive, recording device in my pocket was getting it all.

"Yesyesyesyesyes!" she hissed. "Oohhmyymymy."

"Hubby do that for you?" he said.

"Don't talk about him," she said. "He's not here. You are. So just shut up and do me. Okay?"

I could sense him smiling. "Just curious. No harm no foul. Okay" he said.

"No he doesn't do it for me. He tries, and sometimes he comes close, but he just doesn't have it where sex is concerned. So now shut up about him." He laughed.

"Hey you're the one who told me his dick was really a dicklet. Come on. He gets you every day of the week. I have to be satisfied with once a week. Let me at least have a little fun at his expense. Okay?" he said.

"No. He's off limits. Got it!" she said.

I was seething. I hid the recorder behind the hall portrait and headed for the bar in the den. It was only 10:30AM but I needed a drink and a shoulder to cry on.

I had a lot to think about. I'd be divorcing Samantha; that was a given. I was thinking of putting a serious hurt on Hoerter economically; I just had to figure out how to go about it. And, there was Lindsey. The kid was innocent. I'd probably cover her financially unless Sam cut me off from seeing her. I'd become attached to her. Also, I'd be giving Lou a heads up within the hour.

When I'd departed, I'd decided to leave without interrupting the two lovers with my presence, but I wasn't going to leave quietly. I downed my drink and closed the cupboard kind of loudly. Then, I gathered up my coat and left not being careful about making noise; I didn't exactly slam the door,but I was sure they'd hear it. Like I say, I wanted them to know I was there, or suspect it, worry about it. It was going to be fun; well, it was for me.

**

"What was that!" said Samantha.

"I don't know. It sounded like a door or something," said Michael Hoerter.

"And that!" said Sam. She was out of bed in a flash, but sneaking down the hall very slowly and quietly.

Going into the kitchen, she saw the empty wine glass. "Sweet Jesus," she said.

"What," he said, coming in right behind her.

"I think he was here. I think he heard us. I'm fucked. So, likely are you." She said.

"Oh shit," he said.

She headed for the phone. "If he's not there, then he was here," she said.

"Yes, hi Janie. Is the big guy there?… Oh really… home… Okay thanks," she hung up.

**

I was back at Sancho's within fifteen minutes. "Sam, your wife has called. I thought you were taking a sick day," she said. "I told her you were on your way home."

"I did too, but I'm feeling better," I said.

I got her next call ten minutes after I'd put my apron back on. I picked up.

"Hello?" I said.

"Sam, your cell's off, and I haven't been able to get hold of you. Janie, said you took a sick day. That you were on your way home?"

"I was, and I did. But when I gto there, I found it was a little crowded so I decided to come back to work and be sick here," I said. Silence on the other end of the line.

"Bruce?"

"Yes?" I said.

"It's not what you think. Really?" she said.

"Good, but I have to get back to work, also really," I said. I hung up.

**

I was a man with upwards of one hundred million in liquid assets. I was man who owned half interest in a flourishing bar and grill. I was a man who was a competent if not professional bartender. And, I was a man who was all but terrified of going home to face a woman who had lied to me and made me her cuckold.

Terrified of what? No, not facing her, really. Not pinning her about what she'd done. I was terrified that she'd be able to convince me to forgive and forget—again! This was one time when I had to be strong. I'd listen to her, but in the end she had to be history. Didn't she?

**

I pulled into the driveway and looked up toward the front door of the house. I knew that it would likely be the last time I looked at it as our house, mine and Samantha's. What could she say? What could she promise me? Would she even bother to promise me. Yes, I could dazzle her with my money—even my power, and I had it—but what would that accomplish. Nothing.

I sighed, got out of the car, and walked to the door. It opened before I had even reached for the doorknob.

"Bruce. Please," she said. She walked back into the room and took a seat on the couch. Stunned, I followed her in, shutting the door gently behind me.

"What's he doing here," I said, looking straight into the eyes of her lover. If she'd wanted to piss me off, she'd succeeded historically.

"He's here to help me plead my case. If you're willing to listen—well—maybe we have a chance, you and I," she said.

"You're nothing if not unpredictable, Sam, I'll give you that, and, optimistic," I said.

"Yes, he screwed me today. It's been happening…"

"More or less weekly, right?" I said interrupting her.

"Wha…?" she said.

"You know, on Tuesdays while I'm at work making a living for us. He's screwing you. Right?" I said. She looked down.

"Bruce, you make a good living for us. You treat me and Lindsey like we're princesses. There's almost no downside to being married to you. In fact, I'd say there is no downside to being married to you," she said.

"Then why him," I said, motioning toward her so far silent partner in crime. "Whaddya need him for?"

"His nine inches and staying power and recovery power: sex, that's it, that's all," she said.

"Sex? You're saying that I haven't got what it takes. That about it?" I said.

"Yes. You're older. It's natural. You're good for maybe one time before you're too tired to go again. Do you realize that we've not done it twice on the same date forever? I need a little more. Not a lot, but a little. I've discovered that if I can have Michael once a week, it's enough for me. That's why the Tuesday thing. Never at night, never in our bed, yours and mine, and only once a week," she said.

"So that's the pitch? I said. "I accept your once a week liaisons and we just get on with life. Am I right?' I said.

"Yes," she said.

"And what are you bringing to the table, Hoerter? You just here to hold her spear, or have you got something to say," I said.

"Yes, I do," he said. "Samantha has pretty much laid out the schema as it is at the moment, and it would be good if you were amenable. But I have an offer to make to you, actually a couple of them. She told me that you wouldn't be interested, and maybe you wouldn't be, but I begged her to let me try. I'd only ask that you let me lay it out for you before you get all hot and bothered. Okay?" he said. I nodded.

I was actually more than curious as to what the asshole was wanting to sell me. "Sure, lay it out for me mister big dick," I said.

"Bruce!" said Samantha, butting in.

"Okay, okay," I said. "Go ahead."

"Even if you agree to what Sam has proposed, I can foresee that you'd be out there hating her and me and everything about the deal real fast. But, maybe not so if you were part of the action. What I'm saying is that I'd be more than willing to have you join us whenever we got it on," he said. "You'd screw her, I'd screw her, we'd do everything sexual and kinky we could agree on and, well, just have a good time," he said.

"That it?" I said. He nodded.

"Mister Hoerter, I think you need t leave now and let me and my wife talk things over," I said.

"Okay. Anyway, I made my pitch. Thanks for listening," he said. And, then he was gone.

"So my husband, where does that leave us," said Samantha.

"If I say dump his squirrely ass, would you?" I said.

"In that event, I'd ask you for a divorce, and I would marry him. He's single," she said.

"So all of those things I'm so good at, so wonderful at, can't measure up to his nine inches of flesh. That what you're saying, Sam?

"And what about Lindsey?" I said.

"Michael will take care of us," she said. I nodded.

"Okay, if that's the way it is. He wins. I'll get me a room somewhere tonight, and tomorrow I'll come back and get the few things I care about. Have a nice life," I said.

"Bruce—it doesn't have to be this way. Really. Ideally he's just on the side and you're master of the house. I just need, can't do without…"

"Can't do it, Sam. He wins, and you lose. You've chosen badly," I said.

It took me fifteen minutes to get enough stuff together to last me a night or two, and then I was gone.

**

The divorce was final in five months: irreconcilable differences. She got the house because I didn't want it. I could have sent her off with just the clothes on her back. But, there was the kid, who I was fond of.

I did get one visit from Samantha about a month before the divorce was final.

"How yuh been, Bruce?" she said taking a seat at the bar.

"Okay, I guess, considering," I said.

"I thought—well—I thought that I'd make one last pitch to see if you'd be willing to cut us, me and Michael, some slack. You know join us. Let me have this little thing. And it is a little thing," she said.

"Not so little that you that you aren't willing to forego throwing away a good marriage," I said, quite logically. She ignored my logic.

"I'll miss you, Bruce. More than you know," she said. I nodded and headed back down the bar to answer a call for service, and then she was gone.

**

My shift was over, and I was sitting in a booth near the back of Panza's. I'd been relieving Gil, who'd had a family emergency. She plopped down across from me.

"So, how's it going stud," said Lana.

"Stud? Almost anything else, Lana, but not stud," I said. "My wife and I are breaking up. Oh, she assured me that so long as I could put up with her once a week liaison with her lover that she'd keep me, but absent that little piece of agreeableness, I had to hit the road. Seems he's got four inches on me that Samantha just can't do without. Can you dig it," I said.

"Hmm, a size queen. Yeah, I guess I can dig it," she said. "A lot of women get hung up on size. And, if Kong has got some style; well…

"Don't feel too bad, stud, you've got me. But like I said, I will need a ring if you want me to be your exclusive, you know, to quit the business," she said. I smiled.

"You know, I might just surprise you, woman. Hell, you're about the only female I do trust," I said. She laughed.

"One thing, stud, I know you love the woman, and from what you've told me I think she loves you too. But, unless you're into the cuckold scene, steer clear of her. She'll make you cry—a lot. Seen it a lot, know the game," said Lana.

"You busy tonight?" I said.

"Just busy trying to get your emotions back on an even keel. Why, you need more; you wanna screw me?" she said.

"Yes." I said.

**

The ride to her place was quiet. Also, it was economical in terms of time lapse. Seven minutes to her apartment, one minute to get inside the apartment, two minutes to get undressed and to share an opening kiss or two, and an estimated half minute thereafter to impale her absolutely delicious body on my dick. Total eleven and a half minutes to achieve ecstasy. Oh, and seven more minutes to make her scream. Yes, sex fans, I actually brought the woman off. I know that because she squirted as she made it.

"Fuck mister studley. It's been a while since any man did that to me. I hope you're up for an encore because I sure as shit am," she said.

She got me up for the encore. It took a while but she did. Unfortunately, I didn't quite have the wherewithal to achieve my earlier success.

"Well, we learned a couple of things tonight didn't we," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Yes, you can do it for me, for a woman; but you do have limitations. Not a deal breaker for most women. Your ex, however, probably does need that little fellow of hers on the side to keep her satisfied in that regard," said Lana.

"He's a big guy not a little fella," I said. "I'm the little fella." She nodded.

"Yeah, well as your ex-wife said, bedroom skills are not the only skills a woman looks for," she said. "Look at it this way. He'll age and his ability to perform will lessen as have yours; it's nature. On the other hand the things you bring to the table may actually get better with age. Again, it's nature kinda evening things out. Nobody is blessed with everything. Be happy with what you've got." I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess, I said.

**

Lana'd given me food for thought. Samantha couldn't control her sexual desires; it was a simple as that. She knew, probably, that even if she gave up Michael to keep me and my skill set, that she'd eventually cheat, get caught, and lose me anyway. It was a matter of flat being unable to control her animal urges.

And me? I knew for a fact that I had hole cards up the kazoo and could easily out last good ole Michael and steamroll him in any one-on-one competition. It was a matter of resources; I had 'em; he didn't.

I decided to take Samantha up on her offer. I'd be her cuckold and over time put an end to her cheating, actually change her need to cheat to something else that I could control. Some may wonder why I'd put myself in that position. I had the money, and the power, to do what I wanted. I could have any woman I wanted. Yeah, if I wanted a really sexy gold digger to keep me warm at night. No, I wanted someone who actually not only loved me, but liked me! Samantha was that woman. I knew it and I was going to exploit that little reality to the utmost.

Oh, and I had one wildcard that I was holding that was going to be part of bringing Samantha to heel. I was going to keep Lana on the side. And, I mean as my exclusive—what—mistress. Samantha would know about her; I'd make sure of that, but I would never rub it in her face; I let her imagination do that. My only problem? Convince Lana to go along with it.

**

The divorce was final, and I was free, sort of. It'd been almost a year now since I'd seen Sam except for the brief meeting in the bar the month before the divorce did in fact become final, that now six months past. Because of the prenup, and Lou's aggressive enforcement of it, she'd ended up with nothing except the house—that was an outright gift from me—which she'd sold. Subsequently she'd moved into asshole's house.

Norm and let me now that mister Hoerter did okay economically: sixty grand annual selling insurance, and yes, I had finally found out what he did for a living. They had not, however, married. And, I had it on impeccable authority, Norman Gates word, that they weren't even engaged. She was essentially his mistress.

Lindsey still went to school, played soccer, and took piano lessons. A crumb to me was the fact that Lindsey and her mom argued—on rare occasions—about how she'd chosen to dump me for mister big dick, my words these last. Samantha's lifestyle had taken a hit in the sense that she and I had been living on around a hundred grand annual at the time of the split.

At any rate, I had plans to make and implement.

**

Sancho's had few patrons this time of day. I was on duty kinda. And, I was on a mission, absolutely. I saw her come in and she was flat gorgeous—no doubt trying to entice me. I was about to let her know that she didn't have to work so hard at it.

"Hi, honey girl," I said.

"Hi," said Lana. "So what's up?"

A couple of things," I said. She looked me askance.

"Question, how are you doing financially?" I said.

"What? What kind of question is that? Have I ever asked you how much money you have?" she said. She was a trifle miffed.

"Lana, I'm not after your money. I just need to know so as to go to the next thing here," I said. She relaxed, but she had a mildly irritated—maybe uncomfortable—look on her face.

"I know you have a private eye who's probably already given you the facts, so why waste time asking me?' she said.

"Lana, the other day I told you that you were one woman, maybe the only woman, that I actually trusted. I would not have you spied on for any reason whatsoever except maybe to protect you. I did not have Norm check up on you. And, if you don't want to tell me, what I would really like to know, it's okay. But it would be helpful if you did," I said. She hesitated.

"Okay, okay. I trust you too," she said. "Things are tough right now. I might lose my condo. Bad investments basically. I trusted my banker friend. He steered me wrong. But, I still have some resources." I nodded gravely.

"Okay, this is the deal. I'm planning to take some of the things, that you said to me a few days ago, to heart. I'm going to go back to Samantha. But, I am not going to go back and just be a long suffering hubby and her accepting cuckold. No indeed. But, to do things the way I'd like to, I need you in my corner. I want you to be my mistress." Her eyes shot open. Her mouth followed suit a nanosecond later.

"Absolutely not!" she said. "Where do you get off…"

"Lana, with all due respect, shut up," she sputtered and started to get up out of her seat. I had to stop her without being physical. "Five million," I said.

"Huh? Wha… " she barked.

"A one time payment in tax free money to any bank you like, including an off shore one if that would be your choice. That, to make you my exclusive paramour," I said. "And, I mean for life. If she's going to have her ten inch dick; I'm going to have my first class lover and sex instructor."

"Huh? I mean you have that kind of money. I knew you had some, but I had no idea. I mean…"

"Uh huh," I said.

"Bruce if this is…"

"No, Lana, this is no joke," I said. "I can have a certified check delivered to you before we leave this booth today. Or, I can have the money delivered to any account you name within the hour. Your choice."

"You really are serious aren't you?" she said. "I never had a clue."

"You weren't supposed to, and no matter what you decide here. It stays between us forever. Okay? I said. She nodded.

"I'll take the check," she said. I picked up my cell. "Frank, deliver it. Yes. Thanks," I said. We sipped out Lites and waited. Seven minutes later the check arrived. The delivery guy handed it to me; I signed for it, and handed it to Lana."

"Okay, you're rich. Keep your condo for a while. I don't want any male gold diggers chasing after you," I said smiling. She laughed, kinda hysterically.

"Bruce, I don't know what to say. I guess, I guess, well, I guess I'm your mistress for life. I'd rather have married you, but this will be good too," she said. "Oh, and yes, I am out of the business as of this minute."

"Lana, a piece of advice: don't do like so many other instant millionaires have done and start living crazy. It's a lot of money and if you set it up right the interest on it alone will keep you in good health and wealth your whole life.

"I chose you Lana because you are a woman that I trust. I can't trust the love of my life—go figure—but I can trust a high priced girl of the evening. It is what it is. I decided on the five million because it's enough. Put it in tax free government paper and you'll reap a safe twenty-five grand a month without even touching the principal. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

"Yes sir," she said.

"I'll be setting up a schedule with you soon, maybe even by tomorrow. You'll always know—well pretty much always—know in advance when I'll be over. And, one last thing.

"Yes?" she said.

"It may be, actually, will likely be, that you will have boyfriends. Heck, it may be that one day you'll meet a guy you want to marry. I have no problem with either of those. But, even in that event, I will ask that we keep on keepin' on with you as my mistress. Which of course means that you'll have to tell the guy if marriage is in the works. And, if he's good with being your cuckold, as I will be Samantha's; then, well then, I will make it good by him. Okay?" I said.

"Bruce, that is exactly as it will be. I mean, if, anyone ever strikes my fancy enough for me to want to marry him," she said. I nodded. Like I told her, I did trust her.

**

It was 10am. I knew Hoerter would likely be at work. I was parked outside his house and feeling like a guy with a date with the hangman. I got out and headed for the front door. I pushed the buzzer. She answered the door.

"Bruce!"

"Yeah, it's me," I said. "I want to come back," I said. Her eyes got big.

"What did you say?" she said. I was still standing on the porch.

"I said, if you still want me, I am willing to be your cuckold. I want to come back."

"Oh my!" she said. She embraced me. She invited me in. She made a pot of coffee. We caught up on the things, mundane things, and then it was time to talk about the elephant in the room.

"Bruce, a year ago, you and I were living together as man and wife. I had sex on the side—yes behind your back—on Tuesday mornings. But, then you divorced me. Michael took me in, supported me, took care of Lindsey. Well, I mean things are different now," she said.

"I've thought about all of that," I said. "I want to come back, remarry you, and be your accepting cuckold if that is still your requirement," I said. That stopped her: the remarriage part.

Really?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"But Bruce, even if we did, you know, remarry; I'm afraid it would be a lot more than just Tuesday mornings now. Could you handle that?" she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"You couldn't before. But, you say you could now?" she said.

"Yes, before it was just you and me and Michael. This time around, well, I have a mistress. Her name's Lana. I intend to keep her no matter what. You'll have your ten inch dick, and I'll have a sex machine of my own," I said.

"Nine inch dick," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Nine inches; he's only got nine inches," she said. I smirked.

"I stand corrected," I said.

"You say a mistress?" she said.

"Yes." She leaned back in her seat.

"Bruce, I'm going to say something you might not like. Over the past year, I've become emotionally involved with Michael. I'm afraid he wouldn't approve of my seeing you too, I mean even if we didn't remarry," she said.

"But—he hasn't married you," I offered.

"No, that's true, but it won't be true for much longer. He's proposed, just yesterday actually. We've set the date for next month."

"Really! Oh, okay. I guess I'll be going then. Sam, best of luck to you and him, really. Send me an invitation, okay?" she tendered me a warm but sympathetic smile. I rose and let myself out.

It was still morning. I had time. Time to go shopping.

She'd got there before me. Gil was tending. Panza'd become my favorite watering hole. Well, it had sentimental value.

"I came to her and wasted no time falling to my knees in front of her. "Lana, please do me the honor of becoming my wife—please—I beg of you," I said.

"But what about Samantha?" she said.

"She's marrying the other guy. Besides it's you I love anyway. I thought I needed to take one more shot at her, but I was wrong. Whaddya say?" I said.

"I say yes," she said.

"Good!" I said. "Thank God!" Soon we were surrounded by Gil several of the regulars, and all of the help. The congrats and the bubbly seemed without end or limit. "I made a couple of calls; then, she and I headed for her place.

**

I did get the invite to Sam's and Michael's wedding. And I attended. Actually my new wife, Lana Turner nee Lang, and I attended. Oh, and yes, I had finally gotten her last name. But of course now she had mine.

Lana had said yes. And, she would have married me regardless, so she assured me; but there had been a small requirement.

"I have just one question for you Bruce before you take me and make me yours and yours alone," she'd said.

"And?" I said.

"Just how the hell rich are you?" I gave her a look and realized that she was the one person in the world that I would willingly disclose such to. I hadn't done it with Samantha which I guess said something. But, Lana was different.

"Around a hundred Mil more or less," I said. She fell into her seat.

"And you're a fucking bartender!" she said. When you gave me that five mil I knew of course that being a bartender had to be hobby for you. But, numbers like the ones you just laid on me makes me ask the next question. Why the hell are you working at all?"

"Partly as a cover, and partly because I like it," I said.

"Really? And, did Samantha know? Suspect?"

"No, and she won't. I will see to it that Lindsey gets a scholarship, anonymously, when she's old enough. But as for Samantha and Michael; she's got what she wants and needs and so do I—finally," I said. She came to me, and we made love on the carpet, then in the dinette, and then oral sex in the bedroom. I liked the carpet best, go figure.

**

Well, and I was wrong of course. Samantha did discover my secret. Lana and I had, over the next few years, become amateur philanthropists. One recipient of our largesse had resources, found out about me, and had let the info accidentally or purposely slip to a reporter. We were all over the newspapers in less than twenty-four. I got a visit at Sancho's.

"Well, Bruce, you certainly had me fooled. I guess I blew it, huh?" she said. I continued wiping the snifter I had in my hand as she nursed the drink in front of her.

"Blew what, Samantha?" I said.

"I coulda had a billionaire, instead I got a workaday guy who has trouble making our bills each month," she said.

"A billionaire?" I said.

"Don't play dumb, Bruce, I read the papers," she said.

"I'm not a billionaire, Sam. Just a guy tending bar for his next meal," I said, and yes I was deadpanning.

"You saying you're not filthy rich?" she said.

"No, I'm saying I'm not a billionaire," I said.

"But, I am curious. I thought you were happy with mister nine inches? Not so?" I said.

"He's okay, not a great provider. But okay. The sex is still primo," she said.

"Hmm. Well, I'm still only so-so in the sex department as you were more than happy to remind in times gone by. And, I am a good provider, and no I don't have to worry about the monthly electric bill. We all make our choices," I said.

"Yes, and I sure would like to have a couple of mine back,' she said.

"Hmm, me too," I said. She smiled at that, I think a little hopefully.

"Lindsey asks about you from time to time. It was she who showed me the article about you and your wife and that charity thing and all. You need to drop by and say hello from time to time. I would make it worth your while," she said. Her look was absolutely mercenary. I looked her askance.

"Are you offering to spread for me, Sam?" I said.

"Read it any way you want," she said, smiling. "But, Lindsey would love to see you once in a while.

"I'll take it under advisement," I said. I had to guess that I really never had known this woman. It had been a million years ago that we'd danced together. Now, the only one I danced with was my wife and sexual mentor, Lana Turner nee Lang.

EPILOG:

I did drop by the Hoerter residence from time to time after my little talk with Sam. But, every time I did Lana was on my arm. We had them over for barbecues, and we attended a few at their house as well. I had the feeling that the two of them got off on rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. And, every time we did consort with them I got looks from Sam that were a mix of come-ons, and, frustration with herself for choosing badly.

Lindsey did go to Yale. She got a full ride scholarship from an anonymous donor; that everybody in our circle knew the name of. Well, I had become attached to the kid. Besides everybody can use a heart cardio-vascular surgeon in the family.

I had the feeling that I could have had Sam any time I wanted by snapping my fingers. But, I would never do her again. The last thing I needed now was a prostitute. And no, Lana ain't no prostitute. She's an ex-prostitute.

-----------------------------

   Series:Samantha and Bruce Turner
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She loved the guy but was hung up on a nine incher.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/71803/samantha-and-bruce-turner
Published:2012-08-05
I've not done much of anything in my fifty years; well, other than read books and work. That formula has worked for me till now, but no more. I've finally decided to make a change. Oh me? My name is Bruce Turner: more about me later.

Working I'd become a major success; Well, if a hundred million in liquid assets can be considered success. My job? I'm self-employed. I buy and sell foreign currencies: not an occupation for the unlettered or the faint of heart. Me, I'm lettered as hell and for damn sure not faint of heart. And, I'm smart.

Hell yes I'm smart. Yeah, well, but maybe not smart enough to actually know how to really live. But, I am intending to change that little reality. All I have to do is figure out how to go about it. The catalyst for me wanting to make a change? A lady who calls herself Lana, no last name.

It hadn't been much, what she'd said, but it'd stung. "Bruce you've got to get out more. You need to get a life. You've got enough money; start using it to live," she said.

"I don't know Lana. Sometimes I think you're right about that stuff. I mean, but when would I have time," I said. She gave me a look that screamed, get with it imbecile! and then went back to work. It was real hard trying to concentrate on lifestyle changes, I mean with my cock in her mouth and me twitching on the love seat in front of her. Jesus, she knew how to do that.

Lana was a very talented lady of the evening. I'd purchased her services any number of times. We were, if not actual friends, at least friendly acquaintances. That was the prime reason that I was taking her advice seriously. Physically, Lana's five-four, maybe one-ten, 34-25-34, thirty-nine years old, longish brown hair, eyes to match, and possessed of an ass that can stop traffic. Oh, and a personality that can bewitch a man. Hell, she's bewitched me all to heck.

As I sat peering into the bottom of my wine glass-I was drinking port-I had decided to do a one-eighty in terms of my lifestyle.

"One more, Gilbert," I said. Gilbert Misguez is my favorite bartender; been pouring drinks for me for damn near twenty years: he's the owner and chief barkeep of Panza's Bar and Grill.

My man delivered my third of the day and leaned kind of side-angled against his side of the bar looking at me. "You look like you've got a load on your mind," he said. I looked up at him, and it occurred to me that bartenders knew everything about the social stuff, right?

"You could say that," I said. "Gil, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he said.

"Gil, I need to know just how big of a social loser that I am. I mean-well I mean-do you think that at my age could start doing stuff. You know social stuff?" I said. He looked at me and kinda stepped back as though appraising a potential purchase.

"What are you? Fifty?" he said. I nodded.

"Yeah, you could, but you'd wanna be doin' some changin'," he said.

"Changing?"

"Yes, new clothes. Maybe a different ride."

"A new car?" I said. "That's a three months old Eldorado sittin' out there. Why would I need a new car? And my clothes…"

"No, no, not a new car, and old one, Maybe a pickup," he said. "And, yes new clothes. You dress like an undertaker. But, there's more to what I'm saying than just that shit."

"Huh?" I said.

"You look dull, Bruce, well off, but dull. Unless you want to be taken to the cleaners by some broad assed gold digger, you need to dress down and a little more colorfully; and, not be so obviously upper middle class. That's my thinking anyway," he said.

"Oh!" I said.

"Yes, oh," he said. "You know how to dance? Anything like that, that kind of stuff?

"No, no, not really. Never had much time for dancing." He nodded.

"Well, Whaddya do for fun?"

"For fun? I make money," I said. "That's lots of fun." He snickered.

"Yeah, maybe," he said.

We talked a little while longer, but then he got busy, and I was left to thinking about what he'd said. He was right about the gold diggers. That was one of the reasons I got my rocks off with pros like Lana. I'd learned in high school that one couldn't trust the softer sex. Devious didn't even begin to describe them as a group; the occasional exception to the rule notwithstanding. I took stock of myself.

Fifty and rich and dumb looking: pretty much described me. I wasn't tall or handsome or anything that women were likely on the lookout for. Well, at least I wasn't fat; that was something. But again, I was just kinda dumb and nothing looking; I knew it, and it bothered me-a lot.

I needed to change the dumb looking part. New clothes, the man'd said. New clothes but cheap and colorful new clothes. Okay, no problem. I was not at all miffed that Gil had denigrated my three-thousand dollar suit; he was right, I did look like an undertaker. And my car: it screamed old guy, boring, and unimaginative. So, next stops? Stan's Used Cars and Walmart. But, and then what?

I had it! Marge's Dance Studio. It was but three blocks from my office. I passed the damn thing every day. My socialization could start there-maybe.

Stan, actually an old high school friend of mine: he the prototypical nerd, me, the other prototypical nerd had each other's backs at Crutchfield High. We'd both skipped college and been successful anyway: he owned four car dealerships, two for used cars and two for new Fords. Me, as earlier described made my money in, well, money. He sold me the ten year-old Silverado for a grand: Faded green, no dents, and a sound drive train. Perfect.

I'd spent a grand to get the pickup, and then I'd driven it to Walmart and spent another grand on clothes. Two days later I found myself nervous, and doubtful of my sanity in front of Marge's Dance and Music Academy.

"Can I help you sir?" said the rail thin thirty something woman, as I entered the largish room.

"You Marge?" I said. She looked like a dancer.

"No, no sir. I just work here," she said.

"Oh. Well, I'd like to take lessons," I said. "How do I go about that?"

"Classes or private," she said. My defenses automatically went up. I didn't want to tip her to my cash position. But, I did want private at least at first; I decided to hedge my bets.

"I don't know," I said. "How much would the private lessons cost?" I figured that if I had to ask that question that the woman would figure I wasn't wealthy. I congratulated myself for my cleverness.

"Private is $7.50 an hour per person. Classes are $25 monthly for three half hour sessions a week," she said. I breathed a sigh of relief. The private lessons weren't that expensive. I could do those without arousing undue suspicion.

"Okay, I'd like to sign up for two private lessons a week," I said.

"Okay," she said. "But evenings are kinda full right now. Would you be able to come in during the day? Mostly housewives during the day and we do have openings then, you know, people have to work." Oops, another unexpected problem.

"Uh-yes," I said. "I work mostly evenings, so days would be okay." She smiled. For the first time I smiled; she was kind of frowsy looking, I decided, but could be pretty with the right kinds of female stuff. Even her voice was pretty.

"Wonderful," she said. "Tuesday and Thursday, say 11:00AM be good for you then?" I nodded.

"Yes, that would be perfect," I said. We talked a little bit longer about the dance teacher that I would have and the kind of dancing that I was interested in, and then said our goodbyes.

Just talking to the woman, I didn't even know her name, tipped me that I had to do more than buy me an ancient pickup and don generic duds. I had to have a job. I had to have workmates, a life, any life, other than the one I had. But, what kind of job. All I ever did was talk on the phone to brokers and drink really fine port wine. Shit! I was virtually without any marketable skills.

Back to Panza's. I needed to talk to Gil a little more, maybe a lot more.

"So whaddya think?" said Gilbert. I was slowly nodding.

"Partners, me a silent partner?" I said.

"Yes, and you'd actually be working in the new one, and maybe occasionally here," he said.

"Let me get this straight. I'd front you the money for the new place. I could make my money back since I'd be half owner of the place. And, I'd get to work there as a bartender. That about it?" I said.

"Exactly it. I've wanted to get that place over on Plumber Avenue, Sancho's B&G, for a long time, but two-hundred grand is a little beyond my reach," he said. "but, between us we could do it."

"But, me a bartender?" I said. I sounded dubious.

"I'll put Bill Philips in there with you for a few weeks until you got a handle on things. Between him and the workforce that's already there you'll be fine."

"Okay, it's a deal. But, no one is to know that I'm part owner. No one. We cool on that?" I said.

"You know we are," said Gil. We shook. I was feeling really good. I didn't even care if the place made money. I had my cover, my job. My lawyer would be making sure I was insulated against any untoward downsides, i.e., being sued or somebody setting me up to rip me off. I trusted Gil, but a hundred grand can cause good folks to go bad. Oh yes, this was a good deal because I was going to see to it that it was.

My first dance lesson was an eye opener. I found out that I not only had two left feet; I also had two broken ankles; well, figuratively speaking at least. Talk about a reclamation project, I was it!

But, Samantha Rubens-the girl's name that had signed me up the week before-didn't laugh at me. Turned out she was pretty good at this stuff, and was willing to be my partner for purposes of my private lessons with Mark Hodges, our common instructor. I couldn't have been happier. Mark was a great guy; and, as I soon discovered, more than competent to teach a nothing like me the ropes, but he was definitely not a girl! Samantha was skinny and pretty in spite of her dowdy clothes and minimal female appurtenances. And, she was also a girl!

For the next several weeks we worked on the chacha, the foxtrot, and the swing. Gilbert, my new business partner and social mentor, knew what was going on of course, but had no inkling of where I was at in terms of my newly acquired dance skills. That truth was about to change.

I'd just come on my shift at Sancho's. "How you doing there mister Turner?" said the man who'd come up behind me. And, yes, I was using my real name, no reason not to.

"Gil-mister Misguez," I said. "You startled me." He laughed.

"Sorry about that, Bruce. But, really, how are you doing?"

"Good. No complaints," I said. "Mister Philips has been more than patient." He nodded, and handed me a card, an invitation.

"Company party at my house, next Saturday. Chance for our employees, and their significant others to socialize, have a little fun," he said. He put extra emphasis on the word socialize. I nodded my understanding.

"But-I don't have a significant other?" I said.

"Then you can come and hopefully meet somebody," he said.

"Okay. I can do that, I guess," I said. He could see I was nervous.

"Bruce it'll be good. You'll see," he said. I nodded.

We talked for another minute or two and then he was off to pass out some more of the invitations to the employees. I stood there looking at the card. It would be my first foray into the world of play. I was already nervous and it was still five days off.

"A party? A party with you?" said Samantha.

"Yes, it's at my boss' house," I said. She looked at me kind of-what-sympathetically. "I mean it's okay if you have something else to do. I'll understand."

Samantha and I had gotten to know each other in general terms over the previous weeks. She had a ten year-old daughter, Lindsey. She was a native of Florida and had moved to Ohio just two years previous. And she lived within walking distance of the studio.

"Bruce, no offense, but I'm at least four inches taller than you, and… " she stopped. She could see I was already feeling rejected, down.

"Oh what the heck. It's not like I get a lot of invitations to parties these days," she said. "Okay, it's a date."

"Great," I said. "Would you like to get a cup of coffee? I mean right now. There's a Winchell's across the street.

She looked askance at me. "You know, Bruce, most guys ask a girl to go for the cup of coffee before they ask for a full blown date. You actually intrigue me," she said.

"Let's go," I said.

We settled into the worst seats to be found in any restaurant fast food or otherwise in the whole world. But, at that moment, my mind was on one thing and only one thing: how to get this woman who was way out of my league looks-wise-and too young for me-to like me a little, and, to not tip her to who I was other that is, than what I wanted her to know. Okay, that was two things.

"So what do you do for a living, Bruce," she said.

"I tend bar," I said, proudly. Well, I was proud.

"A bartender?" she said. "Figures."

"Figures?" I said.

"No, it's fine. I'm sure you're good at what you do. I was just hoping that you might be a movie star prepping for your next role," she said. I gave her what I was sure was a confused look.

"Oh, you mean the dancing. No, no, not a movie star, I'm afraid. Sorry to disappoint you there," I said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-demean-you or what you do. It's just… " she started. "I know it's silly of me. You know. But, I came north thinking to meet some rich guy who would sweep me off my feet. Just a little girl's dream?" I ignored her fantasizing.

I interrupted her. "Tell me, Samantha, what do you do? I mean I know you work part time at the studio. But-well-how do you get along otherwise? I know you're not married. But otherwise?" I said. She sighed.

"Welfare, me and my daughter, Lindsey. It's hard, but we make do," she said. "Lindsey's only ten; be eleven in a couple of months." I know my face clouded over.

"Like I said I know you're single, but no daddy in evidence to help pay the little girl's way?" I said.

"No, he hightailed it when he found out I was pregnant. That was ten years ago. Sad story that," she said.

"I can imagine," I said. She smiled, but it was a wan smile.

"So, a party then?" she said. "Haven't been to one in a while. Actually, quite a while."

"Yes, definitely, this Saturday. Barbecue at my boss' house. Anyway, if you'll give me your address-unless… " I started.

"Unless?" she said, looking me askance.

"Well we don't know each other very well. I mean I'll know where you live… " She laughed.

"No, no, it's all right. I'm a pretty good judge of character." She took out a slip of paper from her purse and wrote down her particulars and handed it to me. "There," she said. I nodded.

"Looking forward to it," I said. She looked momentarily thoughtful.

"You know, I am too," she said. I felt good.

Web talked two-donuts-each long, maybe half an hour. I learned more about her life and times-hard times. She learned a lot about me, mostly bogus stuff, at least in any true sense of the word.

Talking to her made me know that I had one thing to do that couldn't be put off. I'd be taking care of it as soon as we split up to go home.

I was a trifle early to pick her up, and when I did I was very much surprised. She was very pretty and very ready to go to a party informal or not. Long tawny locks, understated and well done makeup, a pink sun dress that stopped a couple of inches above the knees exposing legs that were pretty near perfect, and high heels. She towered over my five-six frame, and I loved it.

The barbecue was in full swing when we arrived. The food smelled good too. "Hope they have some of that good smellin' food left over for us," she said. I looked over at her.

"We're not late. I'm sure that there will be plenty left when we decide to eat. Wait…

"You mean you're hungry? I mean now?" I said. She looked embarrassed. Right then I knew. This woman was really really hard up. And, if she were hard up, her kid at home must have been too. Well, that was something that Bruce Turner, newly become entrepreneur, albeit a secret one, could fix muy pronto.

"No, no, I was just kidding," she said. But, I knew she wasn't kidding.

"No problem," I said. I led her to where Gil was talking to a couple by the makeshift bar.

"Hi mister Misguez," I said. "I'd like to introduce you to a friend." He turned and smiled.

Gil took us on a people tour, maybe forty folks in all scattered around the patio and yard. Done, we headed for the tables where some folks were already chowing done. We got plates, served ourselves and did the same. Sam didn't exactly wolf her food down, but she did pile her plate a little higher than most of the other women did.

We'd just finished eaten, when someone put some music on, and I challenged her to dance on the space evidently provided for it, as two other couples were already so engaged there.

"You two do pretty good there," said some guy we had not yet been introduced to as we headed back to our table after a fast paced chacha.

"Thanks," I said.

"Mind if I borrow your lady for a dance?" he said. I frowned, but looked over at Sam. She was smiling.

"Sure, I guess, if it's all right with the lady," I said. My tone was not real enthusiastic.

It turned out that the man's name was Michael Hoerter. He was actually the boyfriend of one of the bargirls at Panza's. He was some kind of salesman, didn't catch what kind. At any rate, his significant other not being present, Michael, the player, Hoerter was on the prowl. He kept my date on the floor for some three dances in a row. I watched from the table where we'd set up base for ourselves. He did bring her back-eventually.

"Whew! That was nice," she said.

"Nice?" I said. She must have discerned, from my tone, that I was not thrilled.

"Bruce? Are you-we-okay here?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I just missed you. You were gone kinda long, but it's fine," I said. She nodded, but it was a slow nod.

The rest of the party was good. Hoerter did dance with her twice more over the course of the afternoon, not in a row, and we did our thing too. Anyway, I had no call to be jealous or possessive, or whatever they were calling it these days.But, I didn't like Hoerter: too pushy, too much of an in-your-face kind of guy. No, I decided, I didn't like him.

It was quiet for the fifteen minute drive back to her place to drop her off. A little small talk of the, "Wasn't it a nice party?" variety. But, apart from that, not much. I did get a small kiss from her when I walked her to her door, yes on the lips, but it had no passion in it. Well hell, I hadn't expected any. It'd be Tuesday before we saw each other again at the dance studio. I had a plan.

"So, mister Gates, do you think you can handle it then?" I said.

"Sure no problem. I'll be getting back to you in a couple of days, he said. "He" was Norman Gates." Norman Gates was supposedly the best PI in the city. And okay, yes, I was butting into her affairs. And, I was butting into the affairs of her daughter's sperm donor of a father too. After what she'd told me at the donut shop, I'd made up mind to butt in.

I arrived a little early for our dance lesson. Mark was all business. And, I was getting better; hell, I thought lot better. But, Mark wanted more. Sam smiled at my attempt to do the grapevine during our Swing run through. I was getting it, well I thought so, but I guess I looked a little clumsy early on. Well, whaddya gonna do.

Lesson over I pulled Sam aside. "Hey, Sam, interested in maybe getting a bite to eat?" I said.

"Uh-Bruce-I… " she started.

"Hey Brucie," came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Michael Hoerter, walk up to us. "Ready, babe?" he said.

"Sorry, Bruce. Maybe another time?" she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. Childish, I know, but I was starting to break up: I could feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I just walked over to where I'd parked my stuff and pretended to tend to them, just hoping that two of them would just leave. I got my hope. Mark noticed.

"Hey guy, don't let it get to you. There's lots of fish in the sea. You'll catch yours. You're a good guy, and your dancing is getting a lot better," he said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. But, I got out of there as fast as I could.

It was illogical as hell. I knew it. But, what was also true was that her turning me down and going out with Hoerter broke my heart. I hadn't realized it, but I had fallen for her-hard. I decided that I'd had my last dance lesson. I wouldn't be going back. I'd email Mark of my intention to stop when I got home. I was sure Mark wouldn't miss me, he'd fill the time spot easy enough. What was also apparently true, Samantha wouldn't miss me either.

Norman Gates sat across from me. Sancho's wasn't busy it was still early, not yet 4:00PM. "You had it pretty well pegged," he said, "at least in broad terms. She's thirty-five, dirt poor, living on food stamps and in government subsidized housing. The kid's, eleven years-old, okay in school but nothing extra. Mom's tried to get a job where she'd be off when the kid got out of school each day, but so far no luck. All in all, she, they're, surviving but barely," he said.

"And the father?" I said.

"Yes, well he evidently was the sperm donor. The two of them were not married. And, he did up and cut out when she informed him that he was going to be a daddy. And, before you ask, an abortion was not happening; she's a bible beating Catholic. Anyway, the guy's name is Elton Parker age forty. Unemployed at the moment: drinking on the job. Lives a couple of towns over, just east of here. The address, if you want it, is in the envelope. He nodded toward the manila envelope on the table between us.

"I see. I want to thank you for being so quick to get this done. I appreciate it. If I ever need a PI again, you'll be the one I call," I said. We said our goodbyes; he left, and I went back to work. I was a bartender after all.

I had the information I'd asked for, and now I didn't know what I wanted to do with it. Had Sam and I become an item, I had intended to do something, but now…?

It was two weeks later that I had a visitor. "Hi Bruce," said Samantha. "Kind of a long time no see."

I was speechless for what seemed forever, but it was likely something more like thirty seconds.

"Well, hi to you too," I said. "You look very nice tonight."

"Thank you. Miss you over at Marge's studio," she said.

"Nice of you to say so. But, I just-well-I just figured I've gotten as much as I hoped to out of it is all. It was time to do something else," I said. I was hoping she wouldn't push it. I hoped in vain.

"Oh, and what else might that be, Bruce?" she said. Okay, I guess I had to lay it out there. I hadn't gotten to where I was-in real life-being a pussy.

"Look, Sam, the truth is that that day…"

"Michael asking me out kinda messed us up. Huh?" she said.

"Well, since you put it out there. Yeah," I said. "I mean I'm not blind or stupid. He's young like you, not bad looking, and knows how to be with-well-the ladies. I, on the other hand, am considerably older than you, not very good looking, and a klutz when it comes to the ladies. What's to choose? It's gotta be him coming in first. Me? A distant second in that particular two horse race." She gave me a smile that screamed disgust.

"Jesus, this is worse than I thought. What are you, Bruce, A sophomore in high school!" she said. "You never gave me to believe that you felt so strongly. Yes, you invited me to a company barbecue. Did that equate with feelings of love eternal! Please tell me. Because if so, I've been doing this all wrong for the-well-my entire life; and, my mother lied to me! So, yeah, please tell me." I felt like an idiot. Everything she said made sense.

"Well I… " I started.

"Look I could be way off base here, Bruce, but I'm going to take my shot. I'm going to gamble. Okay?" she said.

"Okay, I guess," I said.

"You're not a kid. Okay, and yes, you are quite a bit older than me. And too, the fact is you're not real expert in the boy-girl thing." she said.

"Okay, so?" I said.

"And you are looking to get a bit better at stuff like that, right?" she said. "That's why the dancing."

"Okay, and again so?" I said.

"And, you think of me as yours. Your girl, right?" she said.

"Uh-well…"

Right or wrong, just get it out, Bruce," she said.

"Okay, I guess so, kinda. I mean before. Well, I mean you asked," I said. She sagged back against the wall and looked at me. I'm sure I was sporting puppy dog eyes. She nodded slowly her understanding of the situation.

"Okay then. You'll have to get me a ring," she said. "Don't make it too expensive. I mean I'm sure you make good enough bucks as a bartender, but I'm not necessarily into showing off, and I want a honeymoon. Okay?" I stood there and stared.

"Huh?" I said.

"You want me to be your woman, right?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, regaining a fully conscious state.

"Okay then… " she started.

"Samantha, will you marry me?" I said, as I fell to my knees in front of her. She smiled.

"Finally," she said. "Yes, I will marry you, Bruce." Then as if she were talking to herself. "A fucking bartender. Well, you're honest and passionate and employed. And not too bad a dancer." I gave her a look that showed my confusion at her words.

"Come on, get up off your knees, young man. I might be your woman, but you are also my man. So, get up here and kiss me and act like it," she said.

I did as she commanded me and that was that. I was engaged and I didn't even know for sure if I wanted to be. But, I was, and-well-I was feeling good. So, I guess I did want to be.

But, now I had a problem. She is definitely marrying me based on my temporary persona, but how, when, and should I even tell her about the real me.

We talked some more over the next few days. And the decision was made. I mean we were planning on getting married in three months. Her family in Florida has been alerted, and they-mainly her grandma-wants us to get married down there. They're poor people, but evidently good people. We'd have to be seeing about that. And a prenup? Common sense said yes. But is that any way to start a life with one's life's partner? Talk about a mess. All because of my money.

Being engaged brought about three results: one, our dancing lessons resumed and we-read me-did improve; two, Samantha became more or less of a fixture at Sancho's; and three, I was introduced to Lindsey who seemed more interested than pleased that I had been added to the mix.

I had dates with several different people over the few days following my engagement to Samantha, and no not women, well except one. Number one was Gil: he laughed so hard he almost cried.

"So, you lasted what three months before some gal put a collar on you," he said. "Well, she is a pretty thing, a little on the skinny side, but good looking."

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Gil, I want to do this, right?" I said.

"Probably not a good idea so soon, but looking at it, I'm of the opinion that you could've done worse," he said. I nodded.

"Well, I've got a few months to undo the plans if I decide not to go through with it," I said. "I mean if I can be that big of an asshole." He nodded.

My second meet up with was with Lana. No, not for sex, but for advice.

"You're kidding right?" she said. "At your age you're looking for a housemate? Forget it stud. Take it from a pro who knows all facets of the game, for you it's a mistake. Some guys need a full time woman, but you are most definitely not one of them. You've gotten along for more than half of your life without it. Get real. If you want to marry somebody, marry me."

"You? You want to marry me?" I said.

"Sure. I don't know what you do for a living, but I know you make enough to support me. And, I'm actually fond of you. You're considerate and sweet, and more, you're not boring. So sure. Give me a call when you've got me the ring," she said. And, then she laughed long and hard.

My third meeting was with Lou Goetz, my all-purpose lawyer: aged, experienced, connected, and ruthless; my kind of guy. "You let me worry about the prenup, and yes you definitely are going to have one. I insist on it," he said. "And, don't worry, about her thinking you're being indelicate. I know how to do these things; it's all a matter of timing. I'll give you a heads up when I want you to bring her in." I nodded. At least Lou didn't laugh; he only smiled kinda big.

The fourth in line for a meeting was Norman Gates, my very favorite PI. "Yes, I need to know who she's talking to and what she says about me. I have no illusions, Norm. She's marrying me for security, and I'm marrying her because she's attractive and interesting. Do I love her? I don't know. And by that I mean that I don't really know what love is. If that makes any sense," I said. He nodded.

"Consider it done," he said. I looked him askance.

"What no laughter?" I said, and I was being half serious.

"Huh?" he said.

"Everybody else is laughing at me for proposing to the woman; well, except my lawyer; he only smiled. But he's a hundred years old and my story probably bores him," I said. Norm finally smiled and settled back in his at least $1,000 desk chair.

"No, I'm not laughing. Do I think you may be rushing things? Yeah a little. But, I've checked her out remember, and she came up squeaky clean, hard up, but squeaky clean. You could have chosen much worse," he said.

"Thanks," I said. "I kinda needed to hear that little bit of encouragement if that's what it was." He nodded.

"It was," he said.

"So you're going to marry the guy?" said Michael Hoerter.

"Yes, You won't marry me, and he's a good guy. So yes," said Samantha Rubens.

"What about us? We still gonna be able to get together from time to time?' he said.

"She went to her knees in front of him. She undid his belt and pulled down his zipper. "Does this answer your question?" she said, as she pulled down his pants.

He leaned back against the credenza as she pulled his underpants down exposing his penis, his nine inch penis to her view.

"I never get tired of seeing this," she said. Taking hold of it, she let it slip between her lips. She began sucking on it slowly, teasingly.

I didn't exactly have a date with her, but since the engagement, she'd always come in on Friday nights, And when I'd gotten off work, usually around eight, we'd usually gone either to her place or mine to play. But tonight she didn't show. But, he did.

"You said you wanted to be kept up to date on what was going on with her," said Norman. I nodded, and my look must have cued him.

"Sorry man, but she just went into a motel room with that interloper, Hoerter," said Norman.

"Fuck!" I said. "Well, I guess it's better to find out that shit now than after the fact."

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"Too late to get evidence?" I said.

"My boots on the ground are taking care of that as we speak," he said.

"Thanks, Norm. I owe you. You saved me from making a huge mistake. I guess when it comes to the boy-girl stuff I really am an amateur," I said. He laughed.

"Guy, all us guys are amateurs when it comes to the ladies," he said. I just nodded, slowly.

Normally, I would have gone to her place before midday Saturday. We always did stuff together on the weekends. Today was Saturday; I didn't go and I didn't call.

I did get a couple of voicemails from her that I didn't respond to. I think she must've gotten the message because she showed up at the bar on Monday afternoon just as I came on.

"Bruce? What's going on," she said. Well, if nothing else, my so called fiancé was not one to beat around the bush.

"You tell me?" I said, putting the ball in her court.

"Huh? Whaddya mean?" she said.

"You didn't show up Friday night. I took that to mean you were breaking up with me," I said.

"What? What are you talking about? Did we have a date I wasn't aware of?" she said.

"I thought we did, but I guess I was wrong. I mean about me having a date. But of course you had one. Right?" I said.

"Huh?"

"With Hoerter, at the Palms motel. Right?" I said. She paled, but recouped quickly.

"Oh my. You think-you think that I am leaving you for someone else. That's it right?" she said. "Well, I'm not. You're my guy, not Hoerter, not anyone else. Now, does that clear things up between us?" my state of incredulity had to have been obvious. She took on an exasperated expression.

"Come on, Bruce, you didn't think that that man could have any hope of taking your place did you?" she said.

"Looks to me like he has, at least between your legs," I said.

She sighed. "You men. Yes, I let him screw me. Have since that day at the barbecue. But it's nothing but meaningless sex, fun, but utterly without commitment. You need to get your head around that my man," she said.

"Huh? My head around-what?" I said.

"Look, Brucie, you and I are great together. But, well, I'm still young. I need a bit more on the sexual side of things than a man your age can give me. Add to that that I never deny you when-you know-you want something. You always have first dibs," she said.

"What the hell? First dibs? Aren't married people-and engaged people-supposed to be exclusive when it comes to sex?" I said. "I swear I've read that somewhere." Now, I was being sarcastic. That exasperated look again.

"Bruce, get this, there-is-no-threat-to-you in anything I am doing on the side. No threat, Bruce. Get that. Oh, and I know you get off at eight. I want to go to the Hyatt for a late dinner. Okay?"

"The Hyatt?"

"Yes, it's our six month anniversary," she said, and smiled. I stood there stunned, as she turned and walked off.

She was going to be unpleasantly surprised. I'd be going out for a late dinner right enough, but not at the Hyatt and not with her. I gave Lana a call.

"So, you get me my ring yet?" said Lana.

"You have to prove to me that you're not just after my money," I said, laughing.

"Well, fuck you," she said, also laughing. "I'm bettin' I've got a lot more money than you."

"Well, then if that's true, maybe I'll marry you for your money," I said.

The food came and we had a ball telling each other lies and laughing and kissing the night away. And then there was the after dinner sex. Oh my, and that was something.

She swayed in front of me. I was more than glad that my apartment's front room was spacious: she needed it for the dance she was performing. I was so horny when she was done that I grabbed her and all but threw her down on the floor. I ripped her panties off and pushed a finger inside of her. She mooed.

I lay half on top of her kissing her as I fingered her pussy. "You gonna get serious little man," she said.

"Woman, you just condemned yourself to one cruel as hell screwing," I said.

"Writing checks your dick can't cash," she laughed. That got me. I aimed, struck home, and drilled her with everything I had: hard, fast, and well maybe not so deep. But, no one could fault my enthusiasm. And, I did last. Her face took on a shocked expression as an orgasmic typhoon swept her away.

"How about that," I said, more than satisfied with my performance.

"Indeed," she said. "And your fiancé finds fault with that! Excuse me. You maybe lack something, Darling, but fuckmanship ain't it," said Lana. "Still, I will say that that was maybe your best performance ever, at least with me," said Lana.

"Thanks," I said. "My ego needed that even if I didn't." She smirked.

Afterwards we nibbled on cheese crackers, sipped port wine, and went to bed satisfied and-something-happy maybe.

I expected it of course. She was at Sancho's before I even came on. "Can we talk?" she said.

"I don't see why. If you think I'm going to put up with your nonsense you have another think coming," I said. She shook her head slowly from side to side.

"Brucie, Brucie, Brucie. What do I have to do to convince you that sex with Hoerter is no threat to you whatsoever? He's nothing compared to you," she said. I had to smile inwardly at just how totally right she absolutely was.

"He gets your pussy that's more than a threat to me, that's a declaration of war, as far as I'm concerned, Sam. You want him? You got him. You just can't have me too," I said.

"Bruce, how about if I give him up. Would that solve our little problem?" she said.

"Why?" I said.

"Why what?' she said.

"Why would you give him up if he's so much better in bed than me? I mean you said it yourself; I'm too old to service you properly," I said.

"Yes, and to be honest that's the reason I let him have me. You're okay, Bruce. But, Hoerter can go three and four times a night. I get maybe twice from you on a good night. But, all of the being true, and it is, it is not worth losing the love of my life over. Okay!" she said.

She'd just said the one thing-maybe-that might convince me to take a chance. "Love of your life?" I said.

"Yes. I know what I've got in you. A guileless, hardworking, and gentle soul who will take care of me and treat me well," she said.

Guileless? Well two out of three ain't bad, I thought. "How do I know I can trust you?" I said.

"How about this: I give up Hoerter and sign a prenup that if I ever cheat, you divorce me, and I walk with only the stuff I bring into the marriage?" she said. "How about that?" I nodded.

"Okay. I guess I have to take a chance. Just one chance, Sam. And Sam, I'll know if you do cheat. Count on it," I said. She smiled, but there was something in the smile that bespoke arrogance: I'd seen it before from traders, and usually the ones that ate the weenie big time. But, I let it slide.

"Okay, I'll bite, said Samantha. "Why are we here at the lawyer's?" she was looking right at Lou when she said it, but I answered her.

"To put together that prenup you mentioned the other day," I said.

"You're really going to ask me to sign one of those then?" she said. "I mean I thought that after last night that maybe…"

"It was your idea Sam, and it does remove a ton of doubt about the wisdom of trusting you. Especially after all of the things you said about my sexual inadequacies," I said. "Are you saying now that you didn't mean the stuff you said the other night?"

"Well I-okay-never mind. Let's do it," she said.

"Yes indeed," said Lou." Sam, It's the one big thing that Bruce couldn't recover from, I mean a cheating wife. He'd likely be over the hill by the time it happened to him. As his friend I don't want to see him ruined financially as well as destroyed emotionally," said Lou.

"I see," said Samantha.

"Probably not," said Lou. "There are some things you don't know. Lou isn't just a bartender at Sancho's; well, he is, but not only that. He's also part owner of the place, and he has outside money. That's how he was able to buy into the bar. Are you with me so far, Sam?" She was nodding.

"I think so. So, the prenup, if I go for it, what will it do." She said.

"It's pretty simple actually. Bruce wanted it that way. If you stay married for life, it does nothing; it becomes void. If you cheat, whether you divorce or not; you end up with nothing but what you brought into the marriage. If he cheats whether you divorce or not, you get his interest in the bar, and half of everything you accumulate during the marriage.

"Any children, including your daughter, Sam, are also provided for as you will see in the documents: education health, the usual. Bruce is asking you to take the papers to a lawyer of your choice and have he or she looked at it. Additionally, there are other stipulations in the docs you'll want to consider. Again, mostly standard stuff dealing with abuse of various kinds and the like. Like I said, you need to have your lawyer look over the papers and get back to me.

"Sound okay?" he said.

"I guess. I didn't know Lou had other money. I really didn't. I mean I knew he was employed. But, frankly, such is certainly not a deal breaker for me. And, Bruce, I will not be cheating. I'm afraid you're going to be stuck with me," she said.

"Good," I said. I had managed to keep my mouth shut, on Lou's orders. Of course with what Lou'd already revealed, I knew that she and I would be talking, probably talking long.

"Well, it looks like I'm marrying me a Tycoon," she said somewhat facetiously.

"Damn straight," I said. She laughed. "She thought I was kidding. I was not about to disabuse her of her beliefs.

"And, I was worried that I might be making a mistake marrying a bartender. Goes to show one, doesn't it," she said. It was not a question. "Can I ask, just how rich are you?"

"It's relative, but very," I said. I would not give her an accurate figure; I knew she couldn't handle numbers like that. But, I had to at least imply it in order to cover myself in the vent of-well-a bad eventuality.

"So how did it pan out, your investigation?" I said.

"Okay. She has quite a few friends, many of whom you are slated to meet before your big event. The friends are both good and bad," said Norm.

"Bad?" I said.

"Well, party animals. The kind that often end up causing divorces and cheating and all the usual. No drugs though, so that's a positive."

"How about Sam? Is she a party animal?" I said.

"Not in recent times, but evidently there had been a day. It was when she was a lot younger, mid-twenties." He said. I was feeling good. The data was supporting my hopes.

And then we were married. And I did bond with my stepdaughter. And the sex was excellent; well, it was for me. I hoped it was for her. I tried my best. And for two years, my best was good enough; and, then I guess it wasn't. Why would I think that? Because I heard her talking smack about me.

"He's short, too damn old, damn near dickless, and very demanding when it comes to using my twat," said my wife of going on three years.

"Then why did you marry the loser," said the friend seated to her left at our dinette table.

There were five of them in all. I knew the visitors pretty well: they were often over for coffee or drinks or dinner or all three. Lori and Stacy were accountants. Deidre was a dance teacher form the studio. And, Rhoda was a care giver to an aged rich guy. The one asking the question was Rhoda. The lot of them were single except for my wife. And, all were in their mid to late thirties except Deidre who was in her early forties.

They hadn't heard me come in. I was standing in the kitchen. My heart had just been broken into very small pieces. But, I was in control of my emotions, barely, but I was in control. I decided to just stay where I was and continue to listen.

"Why did I marry him? Because he was willing and able to take care of me and Lindsey; I needed him or someone like him. I was hard up, getting older fast, with damn few prospects," said Samantha.

"You're a good looking woman. You could have had your pick," said Rhoda.

"Get this. Yes, a lot of guys hit on me. They wanted in my pants right enough. But none of them wanted my baggage. Bruce didn't bat an eyelash. He accepted me and my baggage with me. All I had to do was make his day in bed. And, I do," said Sam.

"Doesn't he ever get suspicious about Carlson or Richard or that other guy?" said Stacy.

"Hell no. I am very careful. If he knew I'd be ruined: the prenup. No, so long as I take care of business at home, I can play and not have any worries about him finding out.

"I just consider it a job. A body doesn't always like the work they have to do, but they still have to do it regardless," she said.

"Sloppy seconds for him?" said Deidre.

"Occasionally, but not all that often really," said Sam. The all laughed. I made a decision.

I would join them. I headed into the dinette and took a seat at the table with them. The sudden silence was palpable.

"What, not even a hello, Sam? I mean if you're going to take care of business, I mean if I'm just a job, shouldn't it at least start with a little politeness?" I said.

"Bruce I… " she started. I smiled.

"It's okay," I said.

"Bruce, please. It's not what you think," she said. Now I laughed.

"Short, old, dickless, demanding? Carlson-and the other guys?" I said. "Did I miss anything?"

The others began recovering from their respective comas and made to be leaving. I didn't want that.

"No, no ladies, please keep your seats. Well, I mean if you care about what happens to Samantha and my marriage. I might be willing my to forget my hurt if you all would retake your seats and hear me out," I said.

"Bruce? What's going on? What are you going to do?" said Sam.

"You pretty much destroyed my heart just now, Sam. Whaddya think I should do?" I said.

"We need to talk, and we need to do it in private?" she said. "We can get by this." I thought I heard a snicker.

"Bruce, Sam is right. This is between the two of you," said Norma. "You need to talk it out."

"Exactly," I said. "But, I still need an answer to my question, Sam?"

"What question?" she said.

"How do you think I should feel, react?" I said.

"Like I said by talking it out," she pleaded.

"Yes, I agree we need to talk. But, since you seem to have included your friends here in your thinking; I'd like a chance to include them in my thinking. Fair enough ladies?" I said. I looked around the table. I held each of them individually with my gaze for a few seconds. They looked at each other and settled back into their seats.

"Thank you," I said.

Sam looked stricken. "How about you ladies. All of you think I'm as nothing as Sam does?"

"Bruce, what Sam said, what we all think, is just girl nonsense. All of us complain about our men. It's the battle of the sexes thing," said Rhoda. "For the record I know you guys talk the same smack that we do, worse even."

"Hmm, you have a point, Rhoda. But not every man cheats on his wife. And not many men would put up with being cuckolded. But me? Well, I'm a pussy when it comes to my wife, so I want to salvage things if I can," I said.

"Bruce?" said Sam. Her voice was filled with hope. I held up my hand to short shank her.

"Ladies, Sam, I am willing to forgive and forget. I mean it. But, there's a condition, a price."

"A condition?" said Sam.

"I want to fuck all of your friends here. If they agree, I'll just consider it water under the bridge and we get on with the business of living," I said. All of a sudden I had a verbal riot on my hands.

"How dare you!" screamed Norma. "I have never cheated on my husband. I'm not going to start now."

"Really? Never cheated on Cal? What if I told you I knew about Marcus Williams," I said. The look on her face was heartwarming. "And the rest of you? Got any skeletons? Want me to go looking?"

"Bruce, we like you. We really do, all of us," said Stacy. "We were just talking smack. Stupid stuff. Meaningless stuff. Okay?"

"Absolutely. So, shall we all get naked?" I said. Renewed verbal riot. Rhoda and Norma stormed out, though Norma looked back at me as she exited. I think she was trying to gauge whether or not I really knew anything and if so how much about her and Marcus Williams.

Deidre was next to leave. "I'm sorry we hurt you, Bruce. Please forgive me," she said, and then she was gone.

"And you Stacy? You gonna run off too?" I said. She rose and looked at me for a long minute.

"Call me if you really do want a piece of my ass," she said, and then she was gone.

And, then we were alone. I sat there half smiling at my maybe soon to be ex-wife.

"Bruce?"

"Just a job you have to do? That's it, Sam?" She looked down and then up.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. You were never meant to hear any of that shit, and that's all it was," she said. I nodded my understanding.

"Really?" I said. "I mean it isn't really the way you feel?"

"Hell no it's not," she said. "I actually love you."

"Hmm. I wonder," I said.

"No need to wonder it's the truth," she said.

"And Carlson and Richard?" I said.

"Mistakes. Big ones," she said. "They're history, the men.

"Honey, I know I'm going to have to work my ass off to prove to you that I love you. I'm a stinker; I admit it. Just give me a chance to make it up to you. Okay?"

"Your men, you mean that they've been history for a long while or just as of now," I said. She looked away.

"As of now," she said. I nodded.

"And, I'm supposed to believe you," I said.

"Hopefully," she said.

"Hmm, okay. This once. But…"

"I know, if it happens again, you'll destroy me. Right?" she said. I didn't say anything.

The thank you sex was amazing. She lay with her legs drawn back and grunting every time I drove myself into her. I felt her shiver just as I unloaded myself inside of her. I wondered what that meant because it sure as hell was better than any we'd had lately!

We slept in late the next day. It was Saturday and Sam had a hair dresser's appointment. Lindsey and I were slated to go to the zoo.

Things once again fell into a routine and I began to relax.

"He let it go! He let all of those put downs go!" said Stacy Armitage.

"Believe me, I can't believe it either," said Samantha.

"No revenge, no threats, no demands? Really?" said Stacy.

"No, nothing," said Samantha. "Well, except for one helluva a night of sex. I owed him that, and I gave it to him."

"Girl, if you do end up breaking up with him, I'm gonna be taking your place," said Stacy.

"No chance, Stacy. I know what I've got in that man, and I'm not letting him go," she said.

"Carlson's been asking about you," said Stacy.

"Well, there's no way. Not for a while at any rate. I can't risk it. Tell him to chase after some other chickee. I'm busy saving my marriage," said Sam. Stacy gave her a look.

"Okay," said her friend.

Sam and I did walk softly around each other for a few days, but I was Determined to have my cake and eat it too one way or another. To achieve that particular goal, I figured, would require a very delicate hand.

One, I had decided to keep her. The reality was that I was pretty much everything she'd called me. I was short, I did have but a five inch dick, and I was almost fifty-three years-old. However, I did feel very strongly that I would be more than justified in taking issue with the demanding part. I was "not" all that demanding. Yes, I liked to have sex with her, but demanding? Whenever she'd said no, I'd backed off. I might have taken issue with the old part too, but I suppose that would have to remain a matter of perception. And then there was number two.

I had saved her skinny ass, and for that matter that of her daughter. Frankly, I deserved to be respected, and yes damn it, loved too.

The delicate part in my knightly quest, was the fact that I was going to do nothing in terms of exacting revenge of any kind. Nor, was I going to go whining and crying or pissing my pants because the woman I loved didn't, apparently, appreciate me. I was going to subscribe to that old dictum: that "No one can resist generosity forever." I planned to kill her with kindness and love and above all respect.

The sex after that first night of makeup sex was not real extraordinary. Partly, I knew, because I was still feeling basically low. I did not want her to screw me because I wanted it. I wanted her to screw me because we both wanted it. Trouble was, how did I know if and when that she wanted it. Talk about catch-22s. But tonight was six months since the hit to my ego and things had gotten back to something approximating normal.

I watched as she undressed. She had always slept in pajamas, that ever since our wedding night. She'd be naked only on nights when we did the dirty. She slipped into bed sans the night gown.

"Make love to me, Brucie. Please. I need it. I really do," she said.

"My pleasure dear wife," I said.

"Lie on your belly," I said. She did and I switched positions so that I could play with her butt. I felt the heat of her anus as I impaled her on one of my fingers. I kissed and licked her crack while my finger massaged her insides. She moaned. I pulled my finger out and licked and sucked at the hole itself. She was pushing herself back at my face.

"That's a good bit," she said. "Keep doing that. I really like it." I flipped her over and ministered to her clit. Backing up, I poked at her slit and my cock slid in easily.

"Screw me big guy, screw me like you mean it," she said. I wasn't too enamored of her 'big guy' comment, but I did begin drilling her for all I was worth.

It took me some minutes to unload inside of her, but I finally did. And, as I did, she began bucking wildly. I think she was trying to get off.

I collapsed on top of her and took a deep breath. "You make it?" I gasped. I knew she hadn't.

"Sure. You bet," she said. "It was a big one too." She was lying, but she was doing it to make me feel better. I'm not sure how I felt about that.

We slept the sleep of the hopeful; I sure did at any rate.

Over the next few months the sex remained pretty good. I was never able to make her cum, which by the way was not for a lack of trying. I worked my ass off trying to get her there, but I just couldn't seem to do it. Still she seemed to enjoy herself that was something. At any rate, things between us were working themselves out; well, that's what I thought. It turned out I was kinda wrong about that.

I had her dead to rights. I could unload her on her no problem. Lou still had the cannon loaded from before. And no, this ting now was not because of the problem we'd faced some eight months gone. No indeed. It was my gut reaction to what I'd discovered but three-point-five minutes ago. And the damnable worst thing about it wasn't the cheating. Oh no. It was the cheating with Hoerter! And, the jokes he was making at my expense and her laughing right along with him. Those killed my heart—again. And yet, for some damn reason, and I couldn't explain it, the whole sordid scene amused me. Oh, I was mad, incensed really. But, the whole scene was so funny. These two were really really dumbos; all they lacked were ears big enough for them to flap and fly with.

"Bruce! Please Bruce, wait!" she screamed. Languidly leaning against the door jamb, I watched as she desperately dressed. As for his assholeship; he'd fallen on his ass twice trying to pull his pants on. I would have laughed, but it didn't seem the polite thing to do.

Hoerter finally got himself enough together to get his ass out of our house. Samantha and I were alone. I was still leaning against the door jamb. She was now dressed and standing in the middle of the room, hands at her sides watching me. God how vulnerable she looked.

"And?" I said. She swallowed, no doubt trying to get her words arranged in her head. This was going to be a toughie for her for sure. Oh yeah, a serious toughie.

"You weren't supposed to see that. You weren't supposed to be here," she said. I nodded.

"Yeah, how inconsiderate of me. I'll call next time. You know, give you a heads up so you'll have a chance to clean up and get that shithead out of the house. How would that be," I said.

"Bruce? Are you going to kick me out?" she said.

"You know, I'm not sure. I should just unload your skanky ass and get on with things. But, I'm not sure. Let me ask you, do you want to stay with me? I mean and not with him anymore?" I said.

"Yes, I want to stay with you. Are you-are you-are you going to let me?" she said. I nodded.

"Does shithead have a cell phone?" I said.

"Yes." she said.

"Okay, ring it and tell him to never call you, see you, be anywhere around you ever again. And, make him think you're alone, that I've gone out to get drunk or something. I want him to try and convince you to just be sneakier. Oh, and put that fancy android of yours on speaker because I want to hear what he's saying. Am I clear?" I said.

"Yes sir," she said. She picked up her 'droid and hit a preset number-how fucking convenient.

"Hello?" I heard him say.

"Hi. Michael, I've got make this short and sweet," she started

"He there?" he said, interrupting her.

"No, I'm alone. He's mad. I think he went out to get a drink, maybe a lot of drinks. Michael, you and I have to end it. As of now it's over. We played and now I'm going to have to pay. He's really mad," she said.

"Can't we just be more careful? I admit doing it in your house like that was a risk. Stupid-stupid-stupid me asking you to do it there," he said.

"Michael, no we can't just be more careful. We're done. Find some other woman to chase. I'm gonna be spending many years just trying to get him to trust me again. So please, don't call me, try to see me, nothing. Okay?" she said.

"Okay," he said. "But, I'll be around when little dick lightens up. You know how to get hold of me," he said.

"Michael, it's over…"

"You know, you should have tried going for our plan B," he said.

"Yeah, like that was ever going to happen. Michael, I have to go. We're done. Please respect my wishes here. Goodbye." She hung up.

"Plan B," I said. She looked down.

"Sam? Plan B?" I repeated.

"It was nothing, just one of his cockamamie ideas. I told him to forget it when he first brought it up, and each and every time he's brought it up since," she said.

"Each and every time… " I said, letting my meaning hang in the air. Once again she looked away.

"You've been with shithead how many times before?" I said. This was getting good.

"Bruce it's over between him and me. Really, there will be no more sex or meetings of any kind with him ever again," she said.

"Hmm, and plan B?" I was pushing it.

"Bruce, please, stop it. It was nothing. I never even considered it. Just stop it, okay?" Now she was getting mad, which, under the circumstances, seemed odd as hell.

I remained calm and spoke softly. "Last chance, Plan B?" I said. She was wringing her hands. She began to pace.

"He, well, he thought-imagined-that you might want to join in with us. You know a threesome thing. Like I said, a stupid idea from the gitgo and never even considered by me. Never!" she said. I nodded.

"Why would he have wanted such a thing?" I said.

"Hell, I don't know. I guess he thought that we, he and I, could do it more often maybe. I mean if you were in the mix. But I don't really know. The conversation never got that far. I never let it get that far," she said.

"Interesting," I said.

"Bruce, are we okay. You gonna give this cunt another chance?" she said.

"Momma?" came a voice from the kitchen. Lindsey was home. Bruce would you go see to Lindsey. I need to get dressed. Please?" she said. I smiled, nodded, and headed off to entertain her kid for the next short while.

When one is fifty-three years old and looking for a mate, a soulmate if you will, it's hard to walk away from such a one once she'd-in my case-been identified. Samantha was my soulmate; I was sure of it. She was also a slut, and she had become one, if I had it right, some time back. She'd become one and she liked being one, and that dear reader is what I was confronted with. Could she give up this Hoerter guy-really? I had to hope so.

"My mom likes you too, you know," said the little girl.

"Too?" I said.

"You and that tall guy. Michael," said Lindsey. All of a sudden I had a bad feeling. I decided to take a flyer.

"Oh yeah, I know about him. But, at least he doesn't come around here, I guess," I said.

"No, not often. Maybe once a week or so. You're here all of the time, so you have dibs," said Lindsey.

"Dibs?" I said. "What dibs?"

"On my mom, silly," said Lindsey. "He's an okay guy. Mom says he makes her feel good. But, she doesn't trust him. She only trusts you."

"Feel good?" I was talking, no holding a serious conversation, with an eleven year old kid that seemed to be more worldly-wise than me! Helluva a not.

"Really? Once a week is all," I said.

"Yes. Only on Tuesday because that's the day you go to work in the morning. Mom knows you wouldn't like him being around when you're here," she said.

"No, I wouldn't," I said. Tomorrow was Tuesday. I would be taking some time off from work to see if I could nail the bastard banging my wife.

"But, she likes you best," said Lindsey. I knew she thought that she was reassuring me. Maybe had a feeling that what her mom was doing was not good.

"And, how may I ask do you know all of this?" I said.

"I came home sick once and I met him. Mom told me stuff after he left," she said. "Mom and I always tell each other stuff."

I had to think that this was stuff that momma would rather have not had her daughter in the know about. But, once the cat was out of the bag; well, anyway, now the kid did know. And, now I knew. Fucking wonderful!

I'd left on time, 7:00AM, as usual. I knew from what Lindsey implied that the asshole would show up around 9:00AM, probably have coffee with my soon to be ex and then they'd head for the bedroom and desecrate my marriage bed. I'd probably get a call around the time he got there. She'd been calling me at work On Tuesday mornings for some time: the only day of the week I went in early. I had to figure it was to assure herself that I was at work and not going to be interrupting their little tryst. Hence, I was at work, as usual; I'd be taking the call if she made one. Then, I would be taking a sick day.

"Bruce, the phone. It's wifey, said Janie, my morning back up. Janie, Juan the cook, and Lisa and Helen were there for the breakfast crowd. The bar wouldn't open until 4:00PM, but Sancho's was open 6:00AM to 2:00AM seven days a week; but, only food and nonalcoholic drinks until 4:00PM.

"Hi, honey," said Sam, "just calling to say hello."

"Backatcha," I said. "Got a full day?"

"No, not really. Just stuff around her to take care of," she said.

"Well, I do," I said. "Got a ton to do today. It's gonna be crazy I just know it."

"Huh? Well, take care of yourself, and don't work too hard," she said. "I'm planning on giving you a workout when you get home, young man," she said.

"Okay, you be good. See yuh later. Bye," I hung up.

I wondered if her plans for me included sloppy seconds. Probably not. She'd shower before I got home. No use being too in my face about what she was doing to me. I smiled. I wasn't happy, but I was ready.

I parked behind his car on the street and headed inside. They were in the spare bedroom. Jesus were they being loud. I sat outside the room and listened. The little, but very expensive, recording device in my pocket was getting it all.

"Yesyesyesyesyes!" she hissed. "Ooohhhmyymymy."

"Hubby do that for you?" he said.

"Don't talk about him," she said. "He's not here. You are. So just shut up and do me. Okay?"

I could sense him smiling. "Just curious. No harm no foul. Okay" he said.

"No he doesn't do it for me. He tries, and sometimes he comes close, but he just doesn't have it where sex is concerned. So now shut up about him." He laughed.

"Hey you're the one who told me his dick was really a dicklet. Come on. He gets you every day of the week. I have to be satisfied with once a week. Let me at least have a little fun at his expense. Okay?" he said.

"No. He's off limits. Got it!" she said.

I was seething. I hid the recorder behind the hall portrait and headed for the bar in the den. It was only 10:30AM but I needed a drink and a shoulder to cry on.

I had a lot to think about. I'd be divorcing Samantha; that was a given. I was thinking of putting a serious hurt on Hoerter economically; I just had to figure out how to go about it. And, there was Lindsey. The kid was innocent. I'd probably cover her financially unless Sam cut me off from seeing her. I'd become attached to her. Also, I'd be giving Lou a heads up within the hour.

When I'd departed, I'd decided to leave without interrupting the two lovers with my presence, but I wasn't going to leave quietly. I downed my drink and closed the cupboard kind of loudly. Then, I gathered up my coat and left not being careful about making noise; I didn't exactly slam the door, but I was sure they'd hear it. Like I say, I wanted them to know I was there, or suspect it, worry about it. It was going to be fun; well, it was for me.

"What was that!" said Samantha.

"I don't know. It sounded like a door or something," said Michael Hoerter.

"And that!" said Sam. She was out of bed in a flash, but sneaking down the hall very slowly and quietly.

Going into the kitchen, she saw the empty wine glass. "Sweet Jesus," she said.

"What," he said, coming in right behind her.

"I think he was here. I think he heard us. I'm fucked. So, likely are you." She said.

"Oh shit," he said.

She headed for the phone. "If he's not there, then he was here," she said.

"Yes, hi Janie. Is the big guy there?… Oh really… home… Okay thanks," she hung up.

I was back at Sancho's within fifteen minutes. "Sam, your wife has called. I thought you were taking a sick day," she said. "I told her you were on your way home."

"I did too, but I'm feeling better," I said.

I got her next call ten minutes after I'd put my apron back on. I picked up.

"Hello?" I said.

"Sam, your cell's off, and I haven't been able to get hold of you. Janie, said you took a sick day. That you were on your way home?"

"I was, and I did. But when I gto there, I found it was a little crowded so I decided to come back to work and be sick here," I said. Silence on the other end of the line.

"Bruce?"

"Yes?" I said.

"It's not what you think. Really?" she said.

"Good, but I have to get back to work, also really," I said. I hung up.

I was a man with upwards of one hundred million in liquid assets. I was man who owned half interest in a flourishing bar and grill. I was a man who was a competent if not professional bartender. And, I was a man who was all but terrified of going home to face a woman who had lied to me and made me her cuckold.

Terrified of what? No, not facing her, really. Not pinning her about what she'd done. I was terrified that she'd be able to convince me to forgive and forget-again! This was one time when I had to be strong. I'd listen to her, but in the end she had to be history. Didn't she?

I pulled into the driveway and looked up toward the front door of the house. I knew that it would likely be the last time I looked at it as our house, mine and Samantha's. What could she say? What could she promise me? Would she even bother to promise me. Yes, I could dazzle her with my money-even my power, and I had it-but what would that accomplish. Nothing.

I sighed, got out of the car, and walked to the door. It opened before I had even reached for the doorknob.

"Bruce. Please," she said. She walked back into the room and took a seat on the couch. Stunned, I followed her in, shutting the door gently behind me.

"What's he doing here," I said, looking straight into the eyes of her lover. If she'd wanted to piss me off, she'd succeeded historically.

"He's here to help me plead my case. If you're willing to listen-well-maybe we have a chance, you and I," she said.

"You're nothing if not unpredictable, Sam, I'll give you that, and, optimistic," I said.

"Yes, he screwed me today. It's been happening…"

"More or less weekly, right?" I said interrupting her.

"Wha…?" she said.

"You know, on Tuesdays while I'm at work making a living for us. He's screwing you. Right?" I said. She looked down.

"Bruce, you make a good living for us. You treat me and Lindsey like we're princesses. There's almost no downside to being married to you. In fact, I'd say there is no downside to being married to you," she said.

"Then why him," I said, motioning toward her so far silent partner in crime. "Whaddya need him for?"

"His nine inches and staying power and recovery power: sex, that's it, that's all," she said.

"Sex? You're saying that I haven't got what it takes. That about it?" I said.

"Yes. You're older. It's natural. You're good for maybe one time before you're too tired to go again. Do you realize that we've not done it twice on the same date forever? I need a little more. Not a lot, but a little. I've discovered that if I can have Michael once a week, it's enough for me. That's why the Tuesday thing. Never at night, never in our bed, yours and mine, and only once a week," she said.

"So that's the pitch? I said. "I accept your once a week liaisons and we just get on with life. Am I right?' I said.

"Yes," she said.

"And what are you bringing to the table, Hoerter? You just here to hold her spear, or have you got something to say," I said.

"Yes, I do," he said. "Samantha has pretty much laid out the schema as it is at the moment, and it would be good if you were amenable. But I have an offer to make to you, actually a couple of them. She told me that you wouldn't be interested, and maybe you wouldn't be, but I begged her to let me try. I'd only ask that you let me lay it out for you before you get all hot and bothered. Okay?" he said. I nodded.

I was actually more than curious as to what the asshole was wanting to sell me. "Sure, lay it out for me mister big dick," I said.

"Bruce!" said Samantha, butting in.

"Okay, okay," I said. "Go ahead."

"Even if you agree to what Sam has proposed, I can foresee that you'd be out there hating her and me and everything about the deal real fast. But, maybe not so if you were part of the action. What I'm saying is that I'd be more than willing to have you join us whenever we got it on," he said. "You'd screw her, I'd screw her, we'd do everything sexual and kinky we could agree on and, well, just have a good time," he said.

"That it?" I said. He nodded.

"Mister Hoerter, I think you need t leave now and let me and my wife talk things over," I said.

"Okay. Anyway, I made my pitch. Thanks for listening," he said. And, then he was gone.

"So my husband, where does that leave us," said Samantha.

"If I say dump his squirrely ass, would you?" I said.

"In that event, I'd ask you for a divorce, and I would marry him. He's single," she said.

"So all of those things I'm so good at, so wonderful at, can't measure up to his nine inches of flesh. That what you're saying, Sam?

"And what about Lindsey?" I said.

"Michael will take care of us," she said. I nodded.

"Okay, if that's the way it is. He wins. I'll get me a room somewhere tonight, and tomorrow I'll come back and get the few things I care about. Have a nice life," I said.

"Bruce-it doesn't have to be this way. Really. Ideally he's just on the side and you're master of the house. I just need, can't do without…"

"Can't do it, Sam. He wins, and you lose. You've chosen badly," I said.

It took me fifteen minutes to get enough stuff together to last me a night or two, and then I was gone.

The divorce was final in five months: irreconcilable differences. She got the house because I didn't want it. I could have sent her off with just the clothes on her back. But, there was the kid, who I was fond of.

I did get one visit from Samantha about a month before the divorce was final.

"How yuh been, Bruce?" she said taking a seat at the bar.

"Okay, I guess, considering," I said.

"I thought-well-I thought that I'd make one last pitch to see if you'd be willing to cut us, me and Michael, some slack. You know join us. Let me have this little thing. And it is a little thing," she said.

"Not so little that you that you aren't willing to forego throwing away a good marriage," I said, quite logically. She ignored my logic.

"I'll miss you, Bruce. More than you know," she said. I nodded and headed back down the bar to answer a call for service, and then she was gone.

My shift was over, and I was sitting in a booth near the back of Panza's. I'd been relieving Gil, who'd had a family emergency. She plopped down across from me.

"So, how's it going stud," said Lana.

"Stud? Almost anything else, Lana, but not stud," I said. "My wife and I are breaking up. Oh, she assured me that so long as I could put up with her once a week liaison with her lover that she'd keep me, but absent that little piece of agreeableness, I had to hit the road. Seems he's got four inches on me that Samantha just can't do without. Can you dig it," I said.

"Hmm, a size queen. Yeah, I guess I can dig it," she said. "A lot of women get hung up on size. And, if Kong has got some style; well…

"Don't feel too bad, stud, you've got me. But like I said, I will need a ring if you want me to be your exclusive, you know, to quit the business," she said. I smiled.

"You know, I might just surprise you, woman. Hell, you're about the only female I do trust," I said. She laughed.

"One thing, stud, I know you love the woman, and from what you've told me I think she loves you too. But, unless you're into the cuckold scene, steer clear of her. She'll make you cry-a lot. Seen it a lot, know the game," said Lana.

"You busy tonight?" I said.

"Just busy trying to get your emotions back on an even keel. Why, you need more; you wanna screw me?" she said.

"Yes." I said.

The ride to her place was quiet. Also, it was economical in terms of time lapse. Seven minutes to her apartment, one minute to get inside the apartment, two minutes to get undressed and to share an opening kiss or two, and an estimated half minute thereafter to impale her absolutely delicious body on my dick. Total eleven and a half minutes to achieve ecstasy. Oh, and seven more minutes to make her scream. Yes, sex fans, I actually brought the woman off. I know that because she squirted as she made it.

"Fuck mister studley. It's been a while since any man did that to me. I hope you're up for an encore because I sure as shit am," she said.

She got me up for the encore. It took a while but she did. Unfortunately, I didn't quite have the wherewithal to achieve my earlier success.

"Well, we learned a couple of things tonight didn't we," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Yes, you can do it for me, for a woman; but you do have limitations. Not a deal breaker for most women. Your ex, however, probably does need that little fellow of hers on the side to keep her satisfied in that regard," said Lana.

"He's a big guy not a little fella," I said. "I'm the little fella." She nodded.

"Yeah, well as your ex-wife said, bedroom skills are not the only skills a woman looks for," she said. "Look at it this way. He'll age and his ability to perform will lessen as have yours; it's nature. On the other hand the things you bring to the table may actually get better with age. Again, it's nature kinda evening things out. Nobody is blessed with everything. Be happy with what you've got." I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess, I said.

Lana'd given me food for thought. Samantha couldn't control her sexual desires; it was a simple as that. She knew, probably, that even if she gave up Michael to keep me and my skill set, that she'd eventually cheat, get caught, and lose me anyway. It was a matter of flat being unable to control her animal urges.

And me? I knew for a fact that I had hole cards up the kazoo and could easily out last good ole Michael and steamroll him in any one-on-one competition. It was a matter of resources; I had 'em; he didn't.

I decided to take Samantha up on her offer. I'd be her cuckold and over time put an end to her cheating, actually change her need to cheat to something else that I could control. Some may wonder why I'd put myself in that position. I had the money, and the power, to do what I wanted. I could have any woman I wanted. Yeah, if I wanted a really sexy gold digger to keep me warm at night. No, I wanted someone who actually not only loved me, but liked me! Samantha was that woman. I knew it and I was going to exploit that little reality to the utmost.

Oh, and I had one wildcard that I was holding that was going to be part of bringing Samantha to heel. I was going to keep Lana on the side. And, I mean as my exclusive-what-mistress. Samantha would know about her; I'd make sure of that, but I would never rub it in her face; I let her imagination do that. My only problem? Convince Lana to go along with it.

The divorce was final, and I was free, sort of. It'd been almost a year now since I'd seen Sam except for the brief meeting in the bar the month before the divorce did in fact become final, that now six months past. Because of the prenup, and Lou's aggressive enforcement of it, she'd ended up with nothing except the house-that was an outright gift from me-which she'd sold. Subsequently she'd moved into asshole's house.

Norm and let me now that mister Hoerter did okay economically: sixty grand annual selling insurance, and yes, I had finally found out what he did for a living. They had not, however, married. And, I had it on impeccable authority, Norman Gates word, that they weren't even engaged. She was essentially his mistress.

Lindsey still went to school, played soccer, and took piano lessons. A crumb to me was the fact that Lindsey and her mom argued-on rare occasions-about how she'd chosen to dump me for mister big dick, my words these last. Samantha's lifestyle had taken a hit in the sense that she and I had been living on around a hundred grand annual at the time of the split.

At any rate, I had plans to make and implement.

Sancho's had few patrons this time of day. I was on duty kinda. And, I was on a mission, absolutely. I saw her come in and she was flat gorgeous-no doubt trying to entice me. I was about to let her know that she didn't have to work so hard at it.

"Hi, honey girl," I said.

"Hi," said Lana. "So what's up?"

A couple of things," I said. She looked me askance.

"Question, how are you doing financially?" I said.

"What? What kind of question is that? Have I ever asked you how much money you have?" she said. She was a trifle miffed.

"Lana, I'm not after your money. I just need to know so as to go to the next thing here," I said. She relaxed, but she had a mildly irritated-maybe uncomfortable-look on her face.

"I know you have a private eye who's probably already given you the facts, so why waste time asking me?' she said.

"Lana, the other day I told you that you were one woman, maybe the only woman, that I actually trusted. I would not have you spied on for any reason whatsoever except maybe to protect you. I did not have Norm check up on you. And, if you don't want to tell me, what I would really like to know, it's okay. But it would be helpful if you did," I said. She hesitated.

"Okay, okay. I trust you too," she said. "Things are tough right now. I might lose my condo. Bad investments basically. I trusted my banker friend. He steered me wrong. But, I still have some resources." I nodded gravely.

"Okay, this is the deal. I'm planning to take some of the things, that you said to me a few days ago, to heart. I'm going to go back to Samantha. But, I am not going to go back and just be a long suffering hubby and her accepting cuckold. No indeed. But, to do things the way I'd like to, I need you in my corner. I want you to be my mistress." Her eyes shot open. Her mouth followed suit a nanosecond later.

"Absolutely not!" she said. "Where do you get off…"

"Lana, with all due respect, shut up," she sputtered and started to get up out of her seat. I had to stop her without being physical. "Five million," I said.

"Huh? Wha… " she barked.

"A one time payment in tax free money to any bank you like, including an off shore one if that would be your choice. That, to make you my exclusive paramour," I said. "And, I mean for life. If she's going to have her ten inch dick; I'm going to have my first class lover and sex instructor."

"Huh? I mean you have that kind of money. I knew you had some, but I had no idea. I mean…"

"Uh huh," I said.

"Bruce if this is…"

"No, Lana, this is no joke," I said. "I can have a certified check delivered to you before we leave this booth today. Or, I can have the money delivered to any account you name within the hour. Your choice."

"You really are serious aren't you?" she said. "I never had a clue."

"You weren't supposed to, and no matter what you decide here. It stays between us forever. Okay? I said. She nodded.

"I'll take the check," she said. I picked up my cell. "Frank, deliver it. Yes. Thanks," I said. We sipped out Lites and waited. Seven minutes later the check arrived. The delivery guy handed it to me; I signed for it, and handed it to Lana."

"Okay, you're rich. Keep your condo for a while. I don't want any male gold diggers chasing after you," I said smiling. She laughed, kinda hysterically.

"Bruce, I don't know what to say. I guess, I guess, well, I guess I'm your mistress for life. I'd rather have married you, but this will be good too," she said. "Oh, and yes, I am out of the business as of this minute."

"Lana, a piece of advice: don't do like so many other instant millionaires have done and start living crazy. It's a lot of money and if you set it up right the interest on it alone will keep you in good health and wealth your whole life.

"I chose you Lana because you are a woman that I trust. I can't trust the love of my life-go figure-but I can trust a high priced girl of the evening. It is what it is. I decided on the five million because it's enough. Put it in tax free government paper and you'll reap a safe twenty-five grand a month without even touching the principal. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

"Yes sir," she said.

"I'll be setting up a schedule with you soon, maybe even by tomorrow. You'll always know-well pretty much always-know in advance when I'll be over. And, one last thing.

"Yes?" she said.

"It may be, actually, will likely be, that you will have boyfriends. Heck, it may be that one day you'll meet a guy you want to marry. I have no problem with either of those. But, even in that event, I will ask that we keep on keepin' on with you as my mistress. Which of course means that you'll have to tell the guy if marriage is in the works. And, if he's good with being your cuckold, as I will be Samantha's; then, well then, I will make it good by him. Okay?" I said.

"Bruce, that is exactly as it will be. I mean, if, anyone ever strikes my fancy enough for me to want to marry him," she said. I nodded. Like I told her, I did trust her.

It was 10am. I knew Hoerter would likely be at work. I was parked outside his house and feeling like a guy with a date with the hangman. I got out and headed for the front door. I pushed the buzzer. She answered the door.

"Bruce!"

"Yeah, it's me," I said. "I want to come back," I said. Her eyes got big.

"What did you say?" she said. I was still standing on the porch.

"I said, if you still want me, I am willing to be your cuckold. I want to come back."

"Oh my!" she said. She embraced me. She invited me in. She made a pot of coffee. We caught up on the things, mundane things, and then it was time to talk about the elephant in the room.

"Bruce, a year ago, you and I were living together as man and wife. I had sex on the side-yes behind your back-on Tuesday mornings. But, then you divorced me. Michael took me in, supported me, took care of Lindsey. Well, I mean things are different now," she said.

"I've thought about all of that," I said. "I want to come back, remarry you, and be your accepting cuckold if that is still your requirement," I said. That stopped her: the remarriage part.

Really?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"But Bruce, even if we did, you know, remarry; I'm afraid it would be a lot more than just Tuesday mornings now. Could you handle that?" she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"You couldn't before. But, you say you could now?" she said.

"Yes, before it was just you and me and Michael. This time around, well, I have a mistress. Her name's Lana. I intend to keep her no matter what. You'll have your ten inch dick, and I'll have a sex machine of my own," I said.

"Nine inch dick," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Nine inches; he's only got nine inches," she said. I smirked.

"I stand corrected," I said.

"You say a mistress?" she said.

"Yes." She leaned back in her seat.

"Bruce, I'm going to say something you might not like. Over the past year, I've become emotionally involved with Michael. I'm afraid he wouldn't approve of my seeing you too, I mean even if we didn't remarry," she said.

"But-he hasn't married you," I offered.

"No, that's true, but it won't be true for much longer. He's proposed, just yesterday actually. We've set the date for next month."

"Really! Oh, okay. I guess I'll be going then. Sam, best of luck to you and him, really. Send me an invitation, okay?" she tendered me a warm but sympathetic smile. I rose and let myself out.

It was still morning. I had time. Time to go shopping.

She'd got there before me. Gil was tending. Panza'd become my favorite watering hole. Well, it had sentimental value.

"I came to her and wasted no time falling to my knees in front of her. "Lana, please do me the honor of becoming my wife-please-I beg of you," I said.

"But what about Samantha?" she said.

"She's marrying the other guy. Besides it's you I love anyway. I thought I needed to take one more shot at her, but I was wrong. Whaddya say?" I said.

"I say yes," she said.

"Good!" I said. "Thank God!" Soon we were surrounded by Gil several of the regulars, and all of the help. The congrats and the bubbly seemed without end or limit. "I made a couple of calls; then, she and I headed for her place.

I did get the invite to Sam's and Michael's wedding. And I attended. Actually my new wife, Lana Turner nee Lang, and I attended. Oh, and yes, I had finally gotten her last name. But of course now she had mine.

Lana had said yes. And, she would have married me regardless, so she assured me; but there had been a small requirement.

"I have just one question for you Bruce before you take me and make me yours and yours alone," she'd said.

"And?" I said.

"Just how the hell rich are you?" I gave her a look and realized that she was the one person in the world that I would willingly disclose such to. I hadn't done it with Samantha which I guess said something. But, Lana was different.

"Around a hundred mother-in-law more or less," I said. She fell into her seat.

"And you're a fucking bartender!" she said. When you gave me that five mother-in-law I knew of course that being a bartender had to be hobby for you. But, numbers like the ones you just laid on me makes me ask the next question. Why the hell are you working at all?"

"Partly as a cover, and partly because I like it," I said.

"Really? And, did Samantha know? Suspect?"

"No, and she won't. I will see to it that Lindsey gets a scholarship, anonymously, when she's old enough. But as for Samantha and Michael; she's got what she wants and needs and so do I-finally," I said. She came to me, and we made love on the carpet, then in the dinette, and then oral sex in the bedroom. I liked the carpet best, go figure.

Well, and I was wrong of course. Samantha did discover my secret. Lana and I had, over the next few years, become amateur philanthropists. One recipient of our largesse had resources, found out about me, and had let the info accidentally or purposely slip to a reporter. We were all over the newspapers in less than twenty-four. I got a visit at Sancho's.

"Well, Bruce, you certainly had me fooled. I guess I blew it, huh?" she said. I continued wiping the snifter I had in my hand as she nursed the drink in front of her.

"Blew what, Samantha?" I said.

"I coulda had a billionaire, instead I got a workaday guy who has trouble making our bills each month," she said.

"A billionaire?" I said.

"Don't play dumb, Bruce, I read the papers," she said.

"I'm not a billionaire, Sam. Just a guy tending bar for his next meal," I said, and yes I was deadpanning.

"You saying you're not filthy rich?" she said.

"No, I'm saying I'm not a billionaire," I said.

"But, I am curious. I thought you were happy with mister nine inches? Not so?" I said.

"He's okay, not a great provider. But okay. The sex is still primo," she said.

"Hmm. Well, I'm still only so-so in the sex department as you were more than happy to remind in times gone by. And, I am a good provider, and no I don't have to worry about the monthly electric bill. We all make our choices," I said.

"Yes, and I sure would like to have a couple of mine back, ' she said.

"Hmm, me too," I said. She smiled at that, I think a little hopefully.

"Lindsey asks about you from time to time. It was she who showed me the article about you and your wife and that charity thing and all. You need to drop by and say hello from time to time. I would make it worth your while," she said. Her look was absolutely mercenary. I looked her askance.

"Are you offering to spread for me, Sam?" I said.

"Read it any way you want," she said, smiling. "But, Lindsey would love to see you once in a while.

"I'll take it under advisement," I said. I had to guess that I really never had known this woman. It had been a million years ago that we'd danced together. Now, the only one I danced with was my wife and sexual mentor, Lana Turner nee Lang.

Epilogue

I did drop by the Hoerter residence from time to time after my little talk with Sam. But, every time I did Lana was on my arm. We had them over for barbecues, and we attended a few at their house as well. I had the feeling that the two of them got off on rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. And, every time we did consort with them I got looks from Sam that were a mix of come-ons, and, frustration with herself for choosing badly.

Lindsey did go to Yale. She got a full ride scholarship from an anonymous donor; that everybody in our circle knew the name of. Well, I had become attached to the kid. Besides everybody can use a heart cardio-vascular surgeon in the family.

I had the feeling that I could have had Sam any time I wanted by snapping my fingers. But, I would never do her again. The last thing I needed now was a prostitute. And no, Lana ain't no prostitute. She's an ex-prostitute.

-----------------------------

   Series:Sandra and Michael Dorne
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:she's too hot to handle; he's so bright he's indispensable; talk about catch 22s
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/74568/sandra-and-michael-dorne
Published:2013-07-23
My mom, Cameron Dorne, became my mom at age 13: that's not a misprint. It, me, was the result of a rape. Yes, the perp, some loner named Ewing Thorpe, went to prison for it; which fact did little to help my mother in her decision to keep me.

At the time she was minus her own mother and father: the former having died of hepatitis; the latter had likewise died but of prostate cancer. A new single mom, she was raised by her grandma Stella Martin a single mom herself.

All things considered, my mom was arguably the greatest mom of all time. Well, she was to me. I need to give a little of her history here, as I then knew it, because it's intrinsic to my own story which is what this writing is majorly about.

******

Interestingly, my first birthday also marked the beginning of my mom's first year in high school. At the time Cameron Dorne was short at five foot flat, a little chubby though not actually fat, intelligent, plain looking but by no means bad looking-I have pictures-and above all possessed of amazing foresight for one so young-a fact also intrinsic to this story.

Her high school years, seen to by great-grandma Stella, were miserable for mom. Well, she was raising a kid. She managed Cs, but had no time for clubs, no boyfriends, or many girlfriends either. She never attended a prom, a homecoming dance, or went to many parties. Her youth was safe, secure is maybe a better word, but not a whole lot of fun. But, she had me. I was her life, and much later I made the decision that I would do whatever I could to make it up to her: buy her a house, somethng. Had to do that for damn sure.

******

Like I said my mom had foresight way beyond her years. She graduated from high school at my age five, and got a job checking groceries at Nationwide Super Mart. The job paid pretty good and the benefits were good: the usual retail clerks union package. But, for her plans, the expenses she would incur in seeing to my education would far exceed what she alone was able to afford. She had to find resources quite apart from her salary.

Mom dated occasionally, but nothing ever came of her dates-read no long term relationships. And then, as I learned much later, mom had made the decision to dedicate her life to making sure mine would not be a mirror image of her own.

She did some research and essentially engineered my early life. At age six I found myself enrolled in St. Paul's Academy, at the cost of almost $30,000 a year. It took half of mom's annual salary even with her working 48 hours each and every week to do it. And, I'd find out later, a huge chunk of Grandma's savings, most of that gotten from great-grandpa's life insurance policy, as well to send me there. And that wasn't all, Oh no.

I found myself also signed up at Rosie Mitchell's School of Music and Dance; and, I was likewise sentenced to a young person's sports' facility owned and operated by a good 'ole southern boy named Jethro Hughs. Jethro dated mom on and off over the years, as I would later learn; but, as far as I knew at the time, it was only a casual thing not anything to write home about. I think mom got a cut in the cost for putting out for good 'ole Jethro, but I never really knew for sure about that.

Saint Paul's was nothing if not a first water elementary and middle school, and I mean first water. Every kid had an essentially individualized learning plan. Most of the 114 member student body was comprised of rich kids with no interest in socializing with a poor kid-relatively speaking-like me. But, by the time I finished the eighth grade, my favorite authors were Faulkner, Shakespeare, and Fitzgerald. Likewise, high powered nerd that I was, I was conversant with Wittgenstein's Tractatus-which no one with any hopes of having a life would ever read-and I had learned to absolutely despise Emmanuel Kant. Additionally Math became my passion; and, by the time I was fourteen I was already into Calculus and that mostly on my own, though with deal of help from father McHugh, my mentor at the school; and yes we all had them, mentors. So yeah, I was a genius and busy as hell and had no life; I mean if you were still wondering.

At Rosie's I had become proficient at ballroom dance, and the guitar. Mom had held out for the piano, but I just hadn't shown any interest in it, and it was the one of the few things she wanted that I just would not do. But, I did love the guitar. She gave in.

And my schema at Jethro's? It was gymnastics and later boxing. I specialized in the high bar and the rings in gymnastics. As for boxing I'd been in it and competing after age ten, that in the Silver Gloves: had a so-so record. That said, I was in super shape. I did have physical limits though: I was five-four and one-twenty on the eve of my first day in high school. And looks-wise? Well, I hoped I could say with a straight face that I wasn't actually ugly; I guess I was average looking. Well, like I say, I hoped.

Mom had seen to it that my high school years would not be the empty ones she'd had to endure. She'd done her best to see to it that I was ready-teddy, and I was. I had cooperated in her plans-mostly-and done my best. Mom and grandma Stella were proud to beat the band that first day, and so was I. At any rate, I was as ready as I could be. Mom sat me down the night before my first day at Central High and laid it out for me.

"Michael, we're here my beautiful boy," she said. What happens tomorrow is up to you. You're short like me, Michael, and that's going to be a problem for you, but not an insoluble one; don't let the bullies get away with putting you down. Take them down instead. The girls may look askance at you in the beginning because of your size, but they'll come around unless you turn into a whiner and a self-created loser. Be yourself and always do right by other people and you'll be fine," she said.

"I will mom. It's gonna be okay," I said.

******

It wasn't quite a riot, but my first day at Central was a trip and a half. Two thousand students: all hyper, loud, and running-to where was anybody's guess. Half of them were boys and half girls. I was guessing that Ninety-five percent of the boys were taller than me, and worse, forty percent of the girls were. And, yes, that was the main thing on my mind that first day.

The sheet of paper in my hands dictated my room assignments. Room A16, English 9A was first on the list. I knew, the class content; it was going to be way below what I'd become used to at St. Paul's; but I figured that to be a plus. I was on the hunt. I wanted to hook up with a girl. Well, hell, I was fourteen for chryssakes!

In junior high the boys had not been that much taller than me. But for some damn reason, the summer before me going to Central, every boy in the fucking universe got taller except me! But, no matter, it was what it was, and I had the tools, so I imagined, to compete-hopefully. Then I saw her.

Five-six or seven; a body to die for; hair tawny and long and billowing out around her shoulders. Bad news? She was on the arms of one who looked like a jock-a big jock. I sighed. I was going to go for it. I had an idea and I smiled. I caught up with them.

"Hi," I said. "My name's Michael, Michael Dorne. Might I ask yours, miss?" They stopped in their tracks and stared at me. Then he started to laugh. She smiled but didn't laugh. I looked up at him. Up because he was at least six feet tall.

"You can go, guy," I said. Miss…"

"Huh?" What?" he said, not believing, I'm sure, his ears.

"Sandra Hill," she said.

I focused my attention on the big guy, "Yes, Sandy and I have a date, and eventually she and I are going to get married," I said. "Here, I'll take her books." I held out my hands to take them; he'd been carrying them.

"Who the fuck are you, shrimp!" he said. "And, get lost while you still can!" He was almost sneering.

"Well, since you ask, your everlovin' and considerable better," I said.

?"Look, Michael, you said Michael, right?" said Sandy. I nodded. "Yes, well, Michael, Roger here is my boyfriend. I'm afraid… " started my new love interest.

"Was," I said.

"Huh?" they said in unison. I smiled.

"Sandy, yes, you were his girlfriend. And, you can still be friend-friends with him, but you're going to be my 'girlfriend' starting now. Oh, I know this is sudden, and I know there's not supposed to be such a thing, but I fell in love with you at first sight. So, ergo, Roger is history," I said. She laughed.

"You're funny. We'll talk another day," she said. Then they were gone. I was still smiling. They were arguing as they walked. She didn't become my girlfriend immediately, as I had arrogantly announced; that would be some time in coming, but I had a plan, and she really didn't have the guns to hold off my assault, not over the long haul, not even.

******

During those early months at Central, I would stop and talk to Sandra from time to time, but she was adamant that good 'ole Roger Grimes was her boyfriend; she was nice about it. But, as she assured me, she had no intention of ditching him for me or anyone else. Likewise, she made the case that Roger was a junior and she was a sophomore while I was still a freshman albeit an interesting freshman. One thing else that was interesting, well, I thought it was interesting, she never alluded to my physical appearance: height, face, general smallness compared to her boyfriend, the hunk, when turning me down. I think she thought of me as amusing.

At any rate, things went along okay till the end of that first semester at Central. And again, I did keep up my assault on Sandra's Hill's psyche, but, it was still no dice, and then it wasn't.

Early on, I had made the decision, actually, my mom made it for me, to not let on to anyone what my skill set included. Mom made the case that just allowing things to develop was a better way to go and that other people would figure it out on their own in due time, and congratulate themselves on their brilliance.

It was homecoming time, early December: basically an afternoon football game and a more or less formal schoolwide dance in the school's gym in the evening. Oh there'd been the get acquainted dance in mid-September and a major costume event the weekend of Halloween. But, mostly the girls just shined me on when I asked them to dance at those. It was frustrating.

At the get acquainted dance I was turned down five times before Judy Moncrief, the second most beautiful girl at the school, had mercy on me. She let me dance fast with her a total of three times. We did good, but she refused to be seen with me dancing close and slow; well, she was three inches taller than me.

At the Halloween dance I actually got to dance with a couple of different girls and did get complimented on my abilities by each of them. Oh, and if it matters, I had come as a pirate. One of the two girls, Helen Morgan, was especially good looking, as Tinker Bell, though not in Sandy's or Judy's league. She picked up on the fact that I wasn't just an okay dancer; I was almost a pro: well how many high school kids could do the Argentine tango. She actually gave me her phone number; that was going to prove a small problem for me down the line.

Homecoming, however, was different. There was going to be a dance contest. The dances? Disco-read swing, boogie, and chacha. And, each was to be a separate contest. So if one was good at one, but maybe weaker in the other two; well, you get the drift. I wanted to enter all three, but I had a slight problem: I had no partner. I'd not had a single date in the entire four month period-well I was only fourteen. My dream girl was still just a dream.

But, now I was on a mission. I cast about for likely prey. I went for it. I caught up with her.

"Hi, Judy, got a minute?" I said. It was lunch time and most kids were headed for the caf.

"Mike, yes sure," she said. "Whatcha need?"

"Judy, I need a favor. You know homecoming's in two weeks. I was wondering if you know… " She smirked.

"Sorry, Mike, really, but I already have a date for that one," she said. I died a little inside. Getting a girl was looking to be the impossible dream. I headed back toward the A-building. At that point, I would have to have admitted that I was feeling a little down. But, then the gods intervened.

"Mike," said a voice from behind me. I turned. I had not been wrong. The voice belonged to Sandra Hill. I smiled.

"Sandra? Wha-I mean what do you need?" I said, wishing for that which I knew it wasn't.

"Mike, I know you're pretty good at Math; I'm not," she said. "Mike, I need some coaching for the semester finals in Geometry. There's nobody else. Any chance?"

I suddenly knew what I needed to do to make my case to win Sandra. "I'll trade you," I said. She gave be a look that screamed suspicion.

"Okay?" she said.

"You be my date for the homecoming dance, and I'll see you ace the exam," I said.

"Mikey, you know I'm Roger's girl," she said.

"Hmm, okay, let me know if you change your mind," I said. And, I strode off. I didn't look back, but I know she couldn't believe that a male, any male, would dare to turn her down. I actually felt good about it.

The way I figured it, she'd either rethink her position or risk getting the "F" she was more than likely headed for.

Homecoming was the 16th, two days before Christmas break. School would be back in on Monday, the fourth of January, and semester finals would be the following week, the week of the eleventh. I knew from scuttlebutt that Sandra was a gnat's eyelash from failing three of her four classes. She could likely still pull a "D" in Social Science, but Math and Biology, highly unlikely. She needed me more than she needed Roger baby.

The day before homecoming, I got a visit at my house. "Hello, Mikey," said Sandra.

"Sandra? What?" I said, feigning shock at seeing her.

"Too late to take your deal?" she said. I smiled the smile of a beaver on a soft wood tree farm.

"Well, no actually," I said. Just then my mom popped in and saw the dazzling beauty that I'd told her so much about.

"Mom, this is Sandra," I said, by way of introduction.

"Hi missus Dorne," said Sandy. "Nice to meet you."

"And, it's nice to meet you," said my mom. A few polite words later mom made herself scarce. Did I happen to mention that I had the greatest mom in the world? Well, I do.

I got us a couple of Mountain Dews, and we seated ourselves at the dinette table.

"Okay," I said, "It's Geometry if I recall that you needed the assist in. Right?"

"Well, yes-and…"

"And?" I said.

"Well, that and Biology," she said. "Would that be too much to ask?" I gave her a look, and leaned back in my seat. I did indeed have a winning hand here, and I was going to play it.

"I know I'm not giving us very much time, but… " she said.

"No, no, no problem; but if you're going to up the ante, so am I. Apart from homecoming tomorrow night. How about a date for a New Year's Eve too," I said. "I'd never get an invite to the parties without you. But with you… " She gave me a frustrated look. But, she had a pair of deuces against what she knew was pretty much at least a full house.

She sighed. "Okay, but you know this is blackmail," she said. "I'm going to have to break another date with Roger to go out with you on New Year's Eve; that, on top of the one I had to break for tomorrow night."

"Sandra, you don't know it yet, but you are going to be a whole lot better off with me than with Roger," I said.

"Yeah right," she said.

Okay, dear reader, I know what you're thinking. I'm taking advantage of a helpless damsel in distress. Well, maybe, but I wanted her and I would have done pretty much whatever it took to get her. All's fair in love and war, after all, and this was definitely a little of both the way I saw it.

******

At the homecoming game, we sat near the fifty yard line. That was both a good thing and a bad thing. Good because we got to see the game a lot better-a game which our wildcats won by the way 31-17. It was a bad thing because Roger's seat was next to mine. He didn't actually say anything, but his looks were filled with something less than good will. Game over, Sandra and I made separate treks home to get ready for the dance.

At 6:00, mom delivered me to Sandra's house and the two of us to the school.

"You look great tonight," I said. She smirked, but thanked me.

The decorations were pretty: the result of the JROTC's efforts I knew. Each of the school clubs had the responsibility for one or another of the big events during the year. The JROTC had homecoming. The prom was the one big exception; the junior class had that one.

We danced several times before his Rogerness had the brass effrontery to ask my girl for a dance. She smiled at me, essentially asking permission. I reluctantly granted it-like I had choice. He did return her afterwards; that was a plus. He did, however, tender her a quick kiss before scuttling off to wherever his minions were cloistered.

The MC came up onto the adjunct stage and announced the contest rules and told everyone entering to get their partners. Suddenly, we had a snafu. Sandra didn't want to enter.

"I'm not good enough to enter one of these," she said. "I mean I can dance, but not like Carole Ann or Corky. We'll look like fools out there." I smiled.

"No we won't," I said. "We're going to win. Just let me lead, okay?" She looked more than dubious but reluctantly nodded her okay.

To make a long story short: we won boogie, came in second to Corky Wheeler and her date in the swing, and finished out of the money in the chacha. Well, we hadn't had time to practice. Odd thing, the chacha is my best dance, but it's difficult to lead an inexperienced partner in its more intricate variations; and, like I said, we hadn't had a chance to practice at all. Nevertheless, Sandra was impressed with our finish, no more than okay as it was. I was feeling good. Oh, and Roger and his date, Judy Moncrief, entered but were wiped out early in all the dances.

My mom drove us home. I walked Sandra up to the door and waited to see if I'd maybe earned a kiss. She got her keys out, turned to me and smirked-she always seemed to be doing that.

"Well, kiss me, silly," she said. I did and it was delicious and long and hot and promised so much; or, so I hoped.

"It was fun. See you Monday with the books," she said. I nodded and she went inside. I walked back out to the car and mom and I drove off. She and I would be talking.

******

For the next ten days in a row I was Elmer Gantry, and Sandra was a poor little country waif subjected to a level of academic indoctrination that bordered on the fanatically religious.

And then there was New Year's Eve. I picked up Sandra at 7:00; well, mom and I did. She, mom, dropped us at Helen Morgan's house, a near mansion in the subs. Jesus the place was big. The pool was big, the patio was big, the back yard-which was essentially a cultured jungle-was also big.

We did a little freestyle dancing, no ballroom this night, and unbelievably Sandra and I made out; just kisses, but they were magical as far as I was concerned. And then we came up for air, and then Roger was there with fire in his eyes, and then I was wearing a coke bottle on my head. And, yes, he'd coldcocked me with the damn thing.

I was in the emergency ward at nearby Faith Clinic when my mom arrived to pick me up. I found out later that Sandra's dad had picked her up from the party when I went down. Roger being a senior but only seventeen was arrested but essentially just given a ride to his parents' house.

The cause of Roger conking me? He had become ever more upset with me for commandeering his girlfriend, and had finally lost it when he caught us making out. I'd never had a chance, warning, none of it. But, there would be a day, that for damn sure.

I got all kinds of sympathy from Sandra after the attack by her boyfriend. But, that said, it was what it was, and there just wasn't much to be done about it. He was still a minor and got the usual blasé slap on the wrist.

******

Sandra and I did meet a few more times getting her ready for her Bio and Math finals. We met for breakfast in the caf the day of the first test.

"Just go slow and do what I told you strategy-wise and you'll be fine," I said.

"Well, if I do do okay it'll be all because of you, Mike. I appreciate everything you've tried to do even though you did blackmail me." And then she was taking the test.

The results came back three weeks later. Yeah, she aced them: 91% in Bio, and 94% in Geometry. I think I felt better about the results than she did. I got a major kiss on the lips as my reward. The bad news was that now Roger was back in the saddle and rubbing my nose in it every time he saw me. It irked me, but what could I do.

******

Central was a good enough public school. Mister Walsh, the principal, was into the arts. Hence there was an arts festival every year. The arts? Well, there was paint art, woodworking, some other such stuff and performing arts. I signed up; I was going to play the guitar.

"I'd been practicing for years. I'd be fine. Would I win? Probably get honorable mention. The guitar was not the instrument of choice per concerts if one wasn't Santana or Jimmy Hendricks. Me? I was neither: I was into classical guitar, actually, in love with it. Twenty-seven entries tried the audience's patience on the stage; I was number twelve. The judges watched me with bored expressions as I took my place on the dais. I had to announce the piece.

"I will be doing Andre Segovia's Asturias," I said. I got a look from Mr. Clausen the music teachers and one of the judges. I think I'd surprised him. I played. The others did their thing, and then I joined the audience.

I was sitting there with my guitar. No many watchers in the gym at that particular moment. She came up to me.

Pretty good," said Helen. "You do have a lot of talents don't you. My next party is Friday night next. Do come, and bring that," she said, pointing to my guitar.

"Sure, I said. "That'd be great." Then I got the biggest surprise I would likely ever get in high school.

"Not bad, Mike," said Roger. "Uh-sorry about or past disagreements." He walked off. I looked around to see if he'd been coached maybe by Sandra. But no, he'd been sincere-and-original in his remarks." I think I said no problem or something like that to his back. Oh, and I did get an honorable mention and a personal private moment with Mr. Clausen. He said I'd done better than honorable mention. Still, the piano players got the primary awards; well, one couldn't expect to win 'em all.

Oh, and I did attend Helen's party and several others thereafter. I guess I'd progressed from brainy loser to mister nice short guy. Hell, even the jocks talked to me; music did it for them.

******

The rest of my high school career came and went all too quickly.

The end of my sophomore year saw the graduation of my rival for Sandra's hand graduate. But, then Sandra was a senior and I was a junior. Yes, I did press her to go with me to the prom: I was a junior and thereby qualified to go, but his Rogerness returned for that little event and took her. I did have a date for the prom though; I went with Helen Morgan; well, she liked to dance. She took it more seriously than most of the rest of the student body, and I was the only one, among the boys at the school who was in her league. She along with Corky Wheeler and Carol Ann Smith were the best dancers at the school.

We had a good time and we did make it to two different all night parties after we left the formal event. Helen let me feel her up too; Jesus that was a trip. Her C-cups were truly outstanding, and they stood out, if you get my drift.

And, then, my girl was sorta gone, graduated. By sorta gone, I mean that she'd graduated all right, but she'd only gone to our local junior college, Valley CC, so she was in the same town as our high school. She wanted to take up nursing. Problem was, nursing was ninety percent Math and Science. Guess who she came to for tutoring. Yeah, right, exactly, it twern't Roger Grimes.

******

"I'm going to pay you, Mikey. No more of that high school blackmail stuff-okay?" she said.

"No, no, I can't take your money; but, I won't blackmail you either. No, if you want to go out with me now; given your long-time and current stand on the matter, you'll have to be asking me," I said. And, boy did I hope she'd see the light and come asking. I kinda laughed and she did too.

"No, you have to let me pay you," she said.

"Find someone else then to tutor you," I said. "I will not take money from the love of my life," I said, and that without so much as a blink. Her mouth shot open wide at my remark.

"Mikey, I have a boyfriend. And, you damn well know who it is, Roger Grimes," she said. "I can't go out with other guys; it would be cheating at this point. Surely you can understand that."

"I do, and I am not requiring you to go out with me. Only that you let me tutor you for free. No other way is going to fly with me," I said.

"Mikey! Damn it!" she said. Frustration was her new middle name.

"I get what I want and you get what you need, Sandra. Take it or leave it," I said.

"Okay, then. I'm leaving it," and she stomped out. I shrugged. It was her decision. True I was unbending, but that is just the way it was going to be, no negotiation.

******

I was only a senior in high school, but I was the most serious senior that Central high ever encountered.

Additionally, I was kinda popular now. Like mom had said, the other kids would figure it out in due time; well, they had. Oh the jocks still got the first picks of all of the girls, but their leavings were pretty damn good regardless. I'd taken Helen Morgan to homecoming and on the way home we'd parked. Almost eighteen and still a virgin technically, but I did get some pretty nice touchy-feely-kissee-wisee.

Helen and I had not exactly been an item; I still had no true girlfriend, didn't want one. Sandra was going to be mine somewhere down the road, but until then Helen was a more than an adequate standin: pretty and rich too.

We'd been wet kissing for some little time then we stopped. We looked out on the lights of the valley below us; it was a beautiful night and the moon was full.

"Let's get in the back big boy," she said.

"Huh?" I said. We'd never gotten in the back seat. We'd made out plenty of times. We'd kissed our lips raw and she let me feel her up almost every time we went out; well, through her clothes that is. We'd never been naked together.

"In the back?" I stupidly asked.

"Yes, you get to have me tonight. And I get to have your virginity. You are still a virgin, right?" she said. I turned as red as a beet; I could feel it. I swallowed.

"Yes, I guess so," I said. She laughed and that long and hard.

"You guess so? How is that you don't know for sure?" she said.

"Well, I mean, yes, I've never gone, well, all the way," I said.

"Well, you will tonight. Just do what I tell you, and We'll be fine. Okay?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. She laughed again.

"Unbutton my blouse and take it off me," she said. I did as she commanded. "Now my skirt." She lifted a little so I could slide it down her fantastic legs.

She sat there staring at me in her bra and panties. "Jesus, you're beautiful," I said. And she was.

"Well strip mister. I need to see you naked. I want to see what you've got to do me with," she said. I was naked in less than a full minute. My cock, five inches of pure steel, was straining to be administered to.

"Hmm, not too bad. Yes, your thingy will do me just fine," she said. She took hold of it, kinda gently, lightly, and began stroking it. After about a minute, I felt it began to pulsate; she stopped stroking me. She bent forward and let the length of it slide into her mouth. She began licking and sucking me. I couldn't hold back I exploded into her mouth and decided to try and die because this moment in my life was a helluva lot better than seeing fucking Naples for damn sure!

"But, I didn't die and I began to get hard again almost immediately. She knelt on the seat with her knees splayed wide and her backside stuck out waiting for me to do my duty. I'd never done it before, but it didn't figure to be rocket science. I got up behind her and tried to stick it in her. I failed. She looked back at me and smiled.

She reached between her legs and guided my five-inch heat seeking moisture missile to its target. I slipped in easily. I began screwing her slowly: the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her or make it not good for her; but this was my first, I needed it to be good for me too! Oh yeah!

She grew impatient. Get to it, big boy, fuck me hard and fast, very fast; and, try and to last a bit, okay! I sped up and lasted maybe a good three or four minutes before shooting my second load into her. She mooed.

We lay on the back seat and cuddled. It was a delicious time, and for some minutes I didn't even think of Sandra.

******

"I don't know Carla; I got a C-minus on the test. That's not good enough for the nursing program. I've got to do better; they've got me on probation now," said Sandy.

"What about that other tutor you said could do it for you?" said Carla Carter.

"Yeah, but the dorky little shit is a blackmailer," said Sandra.

"What!" said Carla.

"He won't let me pay him, and I'm not going to date him which is what he's really after. It wouldn't be fair to Roger," said Sandra.

"Wait, wait. He told you that you had to date him to get him to help you?" said Carla.

"Well, not exactly," said Sandra.

"Huh?"

"Well, no. He just said he wouldn't accept any money from me. But, I know it was just a ploy to get me to feeling guilty so I'd go out with him," said Sandra.

"He never asked you for a date? And he won't let you pay him? And you think he just wants to date you so he's kinda into making you feeling guilty or something? That what you're saying?" said Carla.

"Yes."

"Sounds like the usual pussywhipped boy who wants to feel that he's giving something to his true love even if he can't have her," said Carla.

"Yes, that's about it, I guess," said Sandra.

"Well, girl, if it was me, I'd give him what he wants. What the hey. It'll make him feel good and maybe keep you in the program," said Carla.

"I don't know. Maybe. But, he's really kinda focused on getting me to marry him," said Sandra.

"Wait, wait, he asked you to marry him, not just date him!" said Carla.

"Well, not exactly. It was when we first met. He told me that he and I were meant to be together that that eventually we'd be getting married. And, he said it right in front of Roger." said Sandra. Carla laughed.

"Go back and give him what he wants, stupid," said Carla. "You've told him like it is, so you're covered. At least this way, he gets to save a little face and make himself feel good. You, on the other hand, get to pass your next eval if he's as good as you say."

"Yeah, I guess I have to," she said, not too enthusiastically. "I don't have much choice. He really is that good, mainly he's able to make it so I actually understand the stuff he's teaching me. Doctor Wilcox's student teachers mostly just confuse me.

Carla shrugged and spread her hands in a yeah-get-on-with-it gesture.

******

Saturday morning. I was going to go to the beach; but, then I wasn't. I answered the door.

"Sandra!" I said. I was genuinely surprised.

"I'll take your deal. I promise not to give you any money. And, I promise to stay faithful to Roger," she said. I nodded, and I smiled.

"Deal," I said, affirming our deal.

"It's Bio-Chemistry," she said, and then she hesitated.

"What?" I said, wondering at the hesitation.

"And, pre-Calculus," she said.

I think she was almost hoping the two were beyond me. But, the Math was going to be cinch for me. I was good at Biology and fair at Chemistry, But, the Math was actually my hobby; hell, I was studying Tensor Calculus on my own; so I figured to be able to do okay for her if I-she-had the time.

"How much time we got?" I said.

"Nine weeks: till the end of the quarter," she said. I felt like rubbing my palms together in glee.

I smiled. "Okay, I'm going to need to see you Monday, after school, with your texts and your syllabi. That okay?" I said.

"Yes, but not today?" she said.

"Well, we could. I mean I was going to go to the beach, but if you're really that desperate…?" I said. She looked at me sideways.

"Okay, Monday will be okay, I guess," she said. "But I have my texts and syllabi in the car. I could leave them with you if you think that that would be useful," she said.

"Good, good," I said. She headed out to get them.

After she left, I rethought my initial glee at what she was looking for me to do for her. This might be a tough nut after all. I mean, well, Sandra was not a great thinker. I had to get her to a point where she could ace her finals in two tough "tough for her" subjects. I didn't go to the beach. I narrowed my eyes, read her syllabi closely, and leafed through her texts per the relevant material.

I did note that her syllabi covered things that were not specifically in the texts. She'd doubtless be getting handouts in class for those, and more than likely discover that the tests she'd be taking would be taken mostly from those and her classroom notes not the texts. I was pretty sure I would have to teach her how to take notes and cull the less important stuff out of them. I sighed.

My mission? It was going to be two fold. One: I had to make sure she did in fact ace the exams. Two: I had to impress her so completely that she would consider changing her romantic allegiance from Roger to me. I didn't have the looks or the size or the social acceptability that he did, but I had things that were, frankly, at least to me, more than a match for what he had or ever would have. Now, all I had to do was sell my thinking to Helen of Troy.

******

For nine weeks we worked three hours a night, five nights a week on her weaknesses. Oh, and it ended up being not only the two scarier of her subjects. There was also, as it turned out, History and Research Writing and Psychology and well you get the picture.

She did have the decency to look a little guilty when she laid the other stuff on me. She wasn't actually in danger of failing any of the others; she was a hard worker, but she would barely have made the 2.5 GPA she needed to maintain her place in the program. So, I was enlisted to help her with those too.

It was Wednesday, it was week eleven and she'd gotten her results two days before and had sat for her evals the next day. We had a luncheon date, well that's the way I thought of it, so she could share with me the results.

She arrived right on time. "Hi," she said, her tone was somber.

"So, how did you do?" I said, a little concerned at her demeanor.

"Not as well as I'd hoped," she said. I eyed her.

"Huh?" I said. I knew she'd been ready. Something was wrong.

"Yes, I did get a B+ in Psyche," she said. I deflated; her easiest subject and the one we'd spent the least time on.

"Oh," I said, expecting that that had been her highest grade.

"And the others?" I said.

"All A's," she said. At first what she'd said didn't register then it did. I smirked.

"Asshole!" I said. She laughed.

"I owe it all to you, Mikey. I do wish you'd let me pay you something. I need to reward you somehow," she said.

"You're happiness and that smile are reward enough for me," I said, and I meant it.

She took on a look, decided something, and set herself to tell me.

"You going to the beach again this Saturday?" she said. I had taken up surfing and she knew I went California Street at county line pretty much every week; well, we had talked some over the course of the quarter.

"No, I'm going to the prom Saturday night. Mom's making me. Have to be getting ready for that," I said. "You know the final high school experience." She looked surprised which kind of bothered me: like I couldn't get a date or something.

The truth was that I could've gotten a date. I'd gotten a few over the year since she'd left for college, but I hadn't really wanted to date; it was always mom pushing me. I only wanted Sandra even Helen Morgan couldn't get me to commit though she came the closest. Nor had I planned on going to the prom, but mom had forced the issue and I just couldn't turn her down.

"Oh, and who are you taking?" said Sandra.

"No, no one, going single-o. But, it'll be fun. I like to dance, and so I'll go and have some fun," I said.

"You don't have a date?" she said. "But…"

"It's okay. I've been to dances before without 'em. The prom is just another fancy dance," I said.

"Hell no it's not," she said. "And what about the parties afterward? You going to any of those?"

"Don't know yet. I'll be playing that by ear," I said. She nodded.

We talked a little longer, and she told me at least forty times how she knew that no one was a better tutor than me, no one in the whole world. I offered as to how I agreed with her, but I did have the decency to laugh at my own display of egotism.

******

Mom had spared no expense in getting me ready to go to the prom: styled haircut, new suit-not a rented one-new shoes. I was ready. I would be using her car, a three year-old Chevy, and nice it was.

I was just about to leave. I kissed mom goodbye and headed for the door. But then the doorbell rang.

I was there, so I answered it. A very large black man stood there smiling. He was wearing a suit.

"Mister Dorne," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Your chariot awaits," he said.

"Huh?"

"He motioned to a stretch limo behind him at the curb. Standing next to it was Helen of Troy, Cleopatra, Catherine Zeta-Jones all in the person of nineteen year-old Sandra Hill. I was frozen in my tracks.

"If you please, sir," said the man whose name I would learn was Herman. He was our chauffer. I followed him out to the limo.

"You wouldn't accept any money for all you did, so I am here to pay up in grand style anyway," said Sandra.

"Huh?" I said. I felt like crying, yelling, laughing-something. But, I just couldn't get my head into gear.

"Come on, handsome. Open the door for me and let's get in," she said. I obeyed her. Jesus she was beautiful! Oh and Roger Grimes? I studiously avoided speaking, thinking, wondering about him; tonight it was my turn. And, I was thrilled to note that my date for the evening seemed to be on the same page as me in that regard.

We arrived at the Knollwood Country Club at the same time as about half of the other students did. We were immediately surrounded by twenty friends of Sandra's. Me? I did get some attention, mostly smirks indicating wonder at my having the belle of the ball as my date.

Somebody spiked the punch, and we were feeling pretty good by around 9:00PM. Sandra and I danced away half the time and spent the other half socializing. And, no, she never left my side or did anything to indicate she was embarrassed to be with such an obvious nerd as was I. But, as to that, I was slated to be class valedictorian, and I was by now recognized as the best dance partner on campus; so I did get a deal of respect if not social acceptance of the kind that Sandra was used to.

We danced, and I let it all hang out. The things I-we-attempted on the dance floor should have been front page news.

While on the dance floor, we were invited to two parties after the midnight kill time. Sandra decided that we would hit them both. One was Helen Morgan's and the other Demetrius Davenport's.

Prom over, we headed for Helen's first. There we drank a little sangria and danced a few dances before making the change to Demetrius' place. It was at Demetrius place that a slight problem came to be in evidence. Sandra disappeared for about half an hour before returning to me all apologetic for abandoning me to my fate for the time period: a dress malfunction as she said. I looked her askance, but let the matter drop; this was my night of nights. She did look a little bit guilty.

Sandra said we had to cut country around 3:00AM. We still had the limo and Herman. We made out like gangbusters in the car on the return home. We dropped her off first and then Herman took me home. It was 3:40AM; mom was still up waiting for me.

"Have a good time, honey?" she said, from the dimly lit front room.

I yawned an affirmative, and we spent the next twenty minutes with me giving her a post mortem on the night's events. She looked suspicious when I mentioned the missing half hour per Sandra, but, water under the bridge, we let the issue drop.

******

Graduation was a nice event for me. I was valie and I did a good job and my mom was proud and great-grandma Stella was proud, and no Sandra did not attend. I guess she figured that our prom date was payment in full for how much I'd helped her. And, I suppose she was right; it had been wonderful. And, after all I had agreed to do it for her for absolutely nothing. She'd simply allowed me the cherry on top of our agreement, and she hadn't shorted me. I suppose, when one gets right down to it, she did it to make herself feel a bit better about things. Fair enough, I guessed.

At any rate, stage one of the life and times of Michael Dorne was in the books. Time for stage two: A mixed bag for sure.

******

I decided that I wanted to be a college professor. Of what? Why Education. I had discovered in my work with Sandra, and a few others, that I had a knack for teaching the somewhat challenged among the student population of the universe. I was especially good at making clear things that were-well-not clear to almost anybody. One guy I'd helped during my senior year said I was more like a wild ass evangelist than a teacher. But, he'd said, that my style suited him. I thought about it, and I guessed that I'd have to have agreed with him: I was a kind of evangelist in pressing home academic truth.

Yes, I'd decided to be a college professor, but then things changed: kind of a perfect storm of pressures that had me switching majors. I went from an Ed. Major to pre-Med by the end of the first quarter at school. Why the change? The short answer was because of Roger Grimes and Sandra. But, more about that shortly.

I'd gotten a free ride of course, a 2300 SAT had seen to that. Why not 2400? I think I misspelled my name on the test. Well, whatever it was; it was enough for the University of Southern California, A.K.A the Southern Cal Trojans, to tender me the scholarship.

I learned through the grapevine that Sandra was doing fine in her practicums in her junior college nursing program. I learned also that good 'ole Roger Grimes had flunked out of school. He'd gone to state on a football scholarship, but his less than sterling classroom performance got him booted. Bad news? He was back in town and in possession of the one I wanted to possess. And, he was working, he was an orderly at the hospital, at County USC Medical Center actually.

All of such being true, I found myself at nineteen launched on stage two of my life.

******

Over the next several years I laid eyes on nurse Sandra but a few times. She was always polite and friendly and on two occasions we had coffee together. And, to rewind a little here, yes she'd managed to pass her NCLEX and was now a staff nurse at guess where? Why County General, A.K.A. USC Medical Center. And Roger? He was there too, as previously mentioned, and still an orderly. And then the worst day of my life came to pass. She married him. I was still a senior at the university and still, of course, unemployed

I was so sick at heart that I couldn't eat or sleep or anything. Well, that's not true: I had no trouble drinking, and I did. At any rate…

By the end of four years I did graduate summa. At the end of three more years I graduated at the top of the Med school's list of neophyte doctors. I'd blown out the licensure exam, and I was accepted into residency at County.

The university held a major soiree for its new resident interns. Surprise! Sandra was there. She was one of the hostesses. A friend of hers, a doctor with a lot of gray hair, Dr. Philbert, I learned later, had gotten her on the list. Well, she had always been an A-lister; nothing had changed. Her husband? Not in evidence. I was glad. It would have ruined it for me.

"Well, you made it: you're a doctor. I'm happy for you," she gushed.

"Yes, thank you," I said. "How is everything with you and Roger?" She kinda frowned. I guess my tone had a tinge of something in it.

"Fine," she said. "Okay?" I nodded, kinda sadly. She picked up on it.

"Can I ask you a favor, Mikey?" I gave her a look.

"Sorry, I mean doctor Dorne?" she said, smiling indulgently.

"Huh? Oh no," I said. "I will always be Mikey, your Mikey, to you. Really. Please." She smiled.

"Except on duty," she said. "But-my favor?"

"Yes, yes of course, anything," I said.

"Will you be available after the party tonight?" she said.

"Available?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"I guess, but for what?" I said.

"To fuck me," she said.

"Huh?" I said. I almost dropped the glass of champagne I had in my hand; I did spill some of the contents. She just smiled, and waited for me to regain my psychological balance.

"Uh-okay-I guess. But-you and Roger?" I said.

"After you do me, I'll explain everything. Okay?" she said. I just nodded. I was sure my voice would crack.

I was shaky. I mean really really shaky. The party was a mandate. There was no running off. I had to be there to the bitter end. Sandra for her part cruised the little knots of conversants sipping her champagne and casually socializing as only one used to her social level could. I cruised too-shakily. And no, we did not at any time cruise together.

The night seemed interminable, but it did end and we did leave two minutes apart. She was waiting at my car, and yes I had my own now, a gift from grandma, in the parking structure. I'd given Sandra the location when we happened to have the same need at the same time to refill our glassware.

I was a resident, but I was not on duty this particular night. So, she and I were cool. My ten year old Hyundai sedan was reliable if not lovely; well, it was ten years old. I headed for the Knights Inn, a somewhat upscale bistro and hotel not too far from the hospital. The ride over was dead silent. I was afraid to talk and she was amused.

I registered, and we headed for the elevators; we had room 414. I could barely walk; her scent was driving me wild. The look of her was enslaving. Jesus! how I adored this woman! I mean almost on a religious level.

The room was largish. Spacious sleeping area, king sized bath, a six drawer dresser, a wall mounted TV, and a table with two actually useful chairs.

She stood hands at her sides near the bed as I closed the door and set the keys on the dresser. She stared at me with a slight smile playing around her mouth.

I stood across from her kinda hoping she'd say something. I did instead.

"I guess we should get undressed?" I said. It was almost 12:30AM and I didn't want to waste time.

"Okay," she said. And she continued to stand there. I started stripping. I was down to my boxers and she still hadn't moved. She just continued to smile at me.

I went to her and tentatively motioned for her to turn around. She did and I slid the zipper to her dress down; the garment pooled at her feet. Her bra and panties were minimal and black and spelled sex. I felt stupid in my ballooning boxers.

She was still in her high heels; I'd shucked my shoes. At least I was in shape. I had a six-pack that would have made Arnold proud; well, maybe not Arnold. But, I looked good except for my stupid boxers. I shucked them too.

She looked down at my manhood as though appraising it. "Not bad," she said. I've had bigger, but it looks like it can do the job. Oh, and I know you're not a virgin. I talked to Helen. She told me she'd gotten your cherry and assured me that you would be quite trainable.

I think I turned red as a beet. "You talked to Helen? About me?" I said.

"Yes, she knew that you were going to be mine one day, and well, maybe today is the day," said Sandra.

I was confused. His Rogerness kept raising his objecting head—figuratively. But, I did not want to ruin things at this point in my long dreamed about, fantasized about, best moment of my life. I kept my stupid mouth shut. She'd said we'd talk about him when were done, and that was good enough me for me-hell yes it was.

I knelt in front of her and slowly peeled her panties down and off of her. Her bald pubis was wonderful. I kissed it. I had an odd thought. I'd just kissed her pubic slit, but I had not kissed her lips. She hadn't seemed to notice, or, noticing, said anything.

I began licking and sucking at her mound hoping it was good for her. She turned around.

"Spread my cheeks, Mikey, and continue," she said. I did exactly as she commanded. I sucked on her anus like the sex starved slave that I was. Pussywhipped didn't even begin to describe my state at that moment.

After several minutes she turned around once again and offered me her hand. "Time to do me, my little man," she said. "I need it and I need it now."

She led me to the bed and lay back. She spread herself wide for me to take her missionary. I loomed above her and poked at her slit, but gently. She was already kinda wet from my sucking on her, and I slid in easily. I began fucking her, at first slowly, and then with increasing speed until I was going at her hard and fast. She had an orgasmic seizure just as I was cumming. She'd made it, and I think it surprised her.

"Whoa, cowboy. You did me good. It's a good thing too," she said.

"Huh?" I said. She went pensive on me.

"Roger beat me up a month ago. We were at the Grand hotel; it was my birthday. He didn't like it much when I was getting kisses from half the staff that worked there. He spent a night in jail. I almost forgave the asshole, but last Monday he slapped me. No marks from that one, but it was the last straw for me," she said. Oh, and in case I forgot to mention it. He was served with divorce papers yesterday.

I didn't know what to say. Oh, I had plenty I wanted to say, but I didn't dare. I didn't want to queer my relationship with her by going macho, and I didn't want to sound like a pussy either. So I took the easy way out. "Jesus, Sandra, I don't know what to say. But, anything I can do… " I said.

"Well, actually there is, but I'd like to be with you when you do it," she said.

"No problem," I said. "I'll kill the asshole for you. No problem." She laughed.

"No, I do not want to be visiting you in jail. No, I had something else in mind," she said. I felt like an idiot-maybe because I was an idiot.

"Then what?" I said.

"Just that when you go to pick out the rings, I'd like to be there advising you," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"You do still want to be my husband don't you?" she said. She was being earnest now. I got off of the bed and went down on my knees. Not "a" knee, but both knees.

"Sandra Hill, will you have mercy on me and be my wife?" I begged.

"Yes, I will Michael Dorne. And, I will treat you like the excellent man you are," she said in an even more earnest tone than before. Still on my knees, I wrapped my arms around her body as she lay there. And no, I didn't cry for joy but damn near.

I should say that at that moment, Roger Grimes didn't know it, but he was in grave danger, very grave danger. Beat up my woman! Not a real good plan, no, not good at all.

******

We did shop for rings and I did get my shot at his Rogerness. He showed up at her house while I was there the same day we'd gotten the rings.

In the entire four years that I'd attended Central High, I'd never gotten in a fight. The bottle over the head thing at Demetrius' party wasn't a fight. I got hit from behind and went down. This time the asshole was in front of me.

He stood there at the front door staring. He apparently couldn't believe I was there. "Well, well, well, shrimp, what are you doing here?" he said. "No, better yet, how long is it going to take for you to get the hell away from here?"

"Well, since you ask, I'm staying the night," I said. I'd stepped outside onto the porch.

His first punch missed by a country mile. His second, a jab, glanced off the side of my head. The estimated next twenty-six punches were mine, and they all landed. And then, Roger the woman beater Grimes was being entertained by singing birds in lalaland.

Sandra had come up just as Roger, his face a mess, was weaving his way earthward. She gave me a look laced with incredulity. "Jesus! Mikey, how did you do that!"

"He made me mad," I said. "If you get me a glass of water, I'll give him a drink and run him off. I mean…"

"Yes. Good. I'll be back in a second," she said. She was back in half a minute-close enough. I took the glass and slowly poured it over his face trying to target his nose. He sputtered awake.

"Like I said, buttfuck, get the hell outta her before you ruin my evening," I said.

He said nothing, but snarled at me as he stumbled his way back to his car.

We were seated at the dinette and she was eyeing me with suspicion.

"You have some hidden talents, don't you, Mikey?" she said.

"Hidden? Not sure about that. My fighting? It just never came up. I used to fight silver and later golden gloves for a while," I said. "But, that's been a long time ago now." She nodded.

"Uh-huh," she said. "Roger's a big guy, a lot bigger than you. You some kind of champion or something?"

"I did okay," I said. Now, she smiled.

"Well how do you do. Who would ever have thought it," she said.

"It is what it is," I said. "Truth is, he's a sizable guy, but he's not really very tough, and he is very slow. Any decent fighter could take him down, easily."

"Dancer, musician, genius, fighter: helluva a combination. You got any more talents?" she said. I shrugged. She gave me a look that spelled even greater suspicion, but she just nodded.

"And modest too. Very interesting," she said.

******

The next several weeks saw to my education in sex. Before that night with Sandra, I'd had exactly one experience with sex. Hell, I was still a virgin in practical terms. Now I was having sex twice and three times a week as we dated.

Roger didn't show up during the entire time until ten minutes ago. He was surly and angry and wanting to talk to me. Me? I didn't even want to be around him, but, I was. And oh how I wish I hadn't been.

"Like I said, tough guy," he said, referring to me. "She's cheating on you like she did me. And the bad news for you is that she's gonna keep on doing it."

"You're a lying piece of shit, Roger, and you better cut country while you're still upright," I said. He laughed.

"Want proof? Go home now and check it out. She's got Demetrius Davenport in your bed right now appreciating his nine-inch dick. Check it out. She does him and a couple of other guys damn near whenever she's off.

"Fuck you," I said. He laughed and walked off.

I didn't believe him of course. But, denial ain't no fucking river. He'd planted the seed of doubt. He'd sounded confident. The right thing to do would be just to ask her, tell her what the asshole had said.

And, logically, why would she want me around if she had other guys servicing her. I was a fucking beginner when it came to sex! Maybe they had bigger dicks? Maybe they had more money? No, I was a fucking doctor. True, I was only pulling down maybe 40K at the moment, but that number would be getting a lot bigger after my two years of internship ended eight months down the road.

I made up my mind to do just that, ask her. She'd always been straight with me. I had no reason not to trust or believe her now. And, she was wearing my ring. Yes, I had to ask her.

******

I was sitting at the table sipping tea when she came in. I had two days off, a rare thing for me these days.

"Hi, you're home," she said.

"Yeah, yeah, got a couple of days off. Thought you and I could do some stuff," I said, smiling.

"Well, yes, good," she said. "I've missed you these last few days. We have so little time together. I can't wait till you've finished your internship."

"For real," I said.

"I bumped into the asshole today, Roger," I said. I left that hanging in the air.

"Really? Where at?" she said.

"The bar. I was kicking back a couple; it was Miller time. It's been kind of a hard week for me," I said. "He and I almost got in to it. The sonovabitch was badmouthing you. I should have taken him down right then, but I didn't want you having to bail my ass out."

"Badmouthing me!" she said, her tone rising.

"Yeah, said you were cheating on me with our old friend Demetrius. But, I told him he was full of shit. He said you have a whole colony of boyfriends and have had right along. That's when I almost lost it, but he hightailed it outta there, so it all came to nothing," I said. Her face went pale.

"Sandra?" I said. "Something wrong? I can still hunt the bastard down and get him to regret this shit."

"No, no, nothing's wrong. It's just-hurtful-him slamming me like that," she said.

"Yeah, I believe it. But, don't worry, I hear of him spouting shit like that about you again; he will be answering to me and he ain't gonna much like it," I said. I was surprised. She turned and literally ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I heard the door slam shut. Of course then I knew. She was essentially confirming what Roger had said. And now I had a problem.

We were engaged. She had the ring. She had my love. She had my soul. Eight months and two weeks from that moment we were to get hitched. And, she was fucking around on me, and, according to Roger, she had the big cock habit. We were engaged all right, but we weren't married. Question now was, did I want the ring back? Could I somehow get by the stuff that was going on? I didn't see how I could, and I wanted to; make no mistake about that. All these years dreaming about her and now this. Shit!

I decided to wait her out. She had to come down sooner or later. It turned out to be later. I was asleep on the couch. I had to get up to pee. It was 1:00AM. She was sitting in the easy chair across from me. She'd been crying; and I assume watching me as I slept.

I swung my legs around and onto the floor. "I have to pee," I said. She kinda shrugged in her seat. A few minutes later, having peed and splashed some water on my face, I headed back to what I was certain would be a truly awful family meeting.

We were both still fully dressed and I'm sure I stunk. Her, maybe not so much.

"Any chance for us, Mikey?" she said.

"You're saying that what asshole told me is true?" I said.

"Yes. Well, in the sense of the sex. There's not nor will there ever be any emotional involvement with any of them," she said. I nodded. Well, I believed that part. Lots of boyfriends meant little or no emotional involvement: one boyfriend would be the exact opposite, a guaranteed emotional involvement.

"How many?" I said.

"I don't know. It varies. Now? Maybe a half dozen or so. It changes. Somebody calls me, has a friend they want me to meet. If I'm clear, I mean if you and I don't have something going; well, I make the date, meet him, and fuck him," she said.

"Sounds kinda clinical," I said. "Now that I know, what are you planning on doing?" She gave me a look. She morphed from fatalistic to-what-hopeful.

"Are you saying I have a choice; we have hope?" she said.

"Not sure. I need to hear what you've got to say about what happens now," I said.

"I'll stop of course. It'll be hard, at least at first. I've been a slut for so long that my friends-contacts-won't believe it, or, believing accept it, my quitting," she said. I nodded.

"But, you are willing to quit. I mean cold turkey," I said.

"Yes."

"I can see why it might be a problem for you, as you say, at least at the beginning. But, you have to do it if you want to remain my woman," I said. "And I have my own set of problems in this.

"One, is trusting you again. That's gonna be a truly hard nut. And two, helping you deal with the insistent ones," I said. She nodded.

"Yes, Mikey, I will very likely need your help. And, I will do whatever you say," she said.

"Good," I said. "One thing, Demetrius: is he the only one we both have in common?"

"Yes, he is," she said.

"Okay. I need a list of the other men." She gave me a panicky look. I just stared back at her.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to be killing anyone. But, I will be talking to each and every one of them," I said.

"Mikey, please, don't do that. Really it won't be necessary," she said. She was pleading.

"It's part of the price for saving us and our future marriage. And, Sandra, do not hold anything back; it would spell the death knell of our relationship if you do. I'm pretty smart, And I know exactly how to handle this so long as I have all of the facts," I said. Something suddenly came to mind.

"Question," I said.

"Yes?" she said.

"When was the last time, and do you have anything else on tap now?" I said. She swallowed.

"Come on, we've got to get it out and in the open. No more hiding things. I'm willing to bend a lot, but you have to be totally forthcoming. Okay?" I said.

"Okay," she said. "The last time was today, noon time, with Demetrius," she said. I felt my face flush.

"And?" I said.

"I'm supposed to meet him again tomorrow afternoon; I mean this afternoon, I guess, now it's after midnight," she said. I slumped back in my seat on the couch.

"How were you going to get that past me? We work in the same place tomorrow?" I said.

"I was going to tell you that I was pulling a double in the big building," she said; she had the decency to look down.

"Lie to me. You were going to lie to me! How often have you done that?" I said. She looked away again. I nodded.

"No more," I said. "I mean no fucking more!"

"I won't," she said.

"Get me that list by noon tomorrow. And, you will be keeping your date with Demetrius. Actually we both will. I do have a few things to say to our old friend, and I want you there when I say them. That all right with you?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Mikey, I'm sorry, I mean really really sorry. But, tomorrow, actually right now, we start over," she said. I nodded.

It was almost 2:00AM. I couldn't explain it, but I was feeling better. And more, I was feeling horny.

"Let's go to bed. I'm feeling horny," I said. She gave me a questioning look.

"You mean now… " she said.

"Yes," I said. I was smirking.

"Okay-but-"

"You still have him inside of you, right?" I said. "Sloppy seconds for me, right?"

"No, no, I'll shower first. I wouldn't do that to you, Mikey, really," she said. I smiled.

"I can't wait," I said.

And we didn't wait, and I did get my sloppy seconds, and it was one hellacious turn on! And no, I could not tell you why. I took her twice within the hour, and she came the second time though not the first; I think because it took me longer for the second go. We lay gasping, and physically ruined, and we slept: naked and dirty and stinking.

I should mention here, if I haven't already, that we did have a place of our own; it was in town, near USC. It was hers actually. She'd gotten it on her own and though I resided mostly at the hospital; I did get home off and on. It kept me grounded and her too, at least so I'd previously thought.

******

I did get the list the next day. It was on my computer via an email. Henry Rankin, Martin Glover, Mark Hanson, Reed Willis, and Glen Hofschneider: oh, and of course Demi Davenport.

I'd be handling the lot of them over time, but numero uno on my list was Demi. He was the only one on the list with long term status. She'd been doing him off and on for years. I'd finally found out about the missing half hour on prom night. He'd gotten a blow job from her then, and that had made him want the whole enchilada. She'd given it to him too, not that night, but lots of times thereafter: his nine inch, though slender, dick made him primo stock in her book.

And now we had our little date with good 'ole Demetrius Davenport. They'd made their date the day before; after their heavy breathing had died down, I was sure. The date was to take place at the Leisure Time Inn across town.

We were already on site when he arrived. I was sitting at the end of the bar where it curved around and gave me a good view of the door and table we'd chosen and which Sandra was now ensconced at. She was wired. She didn't much like it, but I had to know what he'd say about me and about their relationship. She'd finally agreed, but warned me it might be not good that I should hear such things. I'd allowed that I'd figured that much out myself, but I wanted the specifics.

"I'd interrupt their little game when it seemed most appropriate for me to do so. My one worry was, that if things got a little too hairy, that Sandra might out me before I was ready. But, that was a potentiality that I could do little about.

I saw him come in and smile as he spotted her almost immediately. He came up to her and kissed her hard on the lips. She had the good sense not to glance my way though I was pretty sure she wanted to. He took a seat that had his back to me. That was good. I wanted it to be a surprise when I interrupted them.

"So where's little wimpy tonight," said Demetrius.

"I've told you before not to bad mouth him. You get to fuck me, but you do not get to include him in our conversation. Got it, great big black man," she said.

"Okay, okay, I was just fiunin'" he said. "So where is the good doctor tonight?"

"He's on duty till 7:00AM," she said.

"Good, then we have time to really get it on," he said. "You gonna give me your ass again?" Now, she did glance my way: she'd refused to let me have her there, but she recovered nicely.

"Sure bet, sailor," she said. "Your dick's thin enough so as not to hurt me. Mikey's, on the other hand, is just a little too fat to let him do me there. I'll never let him have ass because of that."

"Yeah, his cock may be fat, but not all that long as you've told me," he said.

"It is what it is," she said. "It's enough for me." He gave her a look that spelled confusion, disbelief.

"Huh?" he said. "But, you've always said…"

"Are we going to keep talking about him or are you going to order dinner so we'll have enough calories in us for the night's activities," she said. Now he smiled.

"You always say the cutest things," he said. I saw him signal the waitress.

They ordered, the food arrived, and so did I. "Hello, Demetrius," I said. His black face lost all of its color-hard as that might be to believe.

"Yes, it's me. You know mister wimpy," I said. "I'm here to dissuade you from ever coming around my woman again. Uh-no matter what it takes."

I was standing, and now so was he. He towered over me. "You think you can back that up, little man?" he said.

"As a matter of fact, yes," I said. He did the unthinkable, his pride I guess. He sent a haymaker, via snail mail, at my head: bad choice. I unleashed everything I had at him. The fight last less than a full minute, though as for that I wasn't actually timing us. He was down and whimpering like the wimp he was-large wimp though he was at six-three and two-twenty.

We were surrounded by security and not much later by cops. We were questioned, but several people testified that mister Davenport had unloaded on me first. They, the cops, escorted mister Davenport out of the bistro. Sandra almost fell back into her seat from the excitement.

"You hurt him," she said, as I took my seat.

"He'll be okay. Humiliated, but okay. He's lucky it was in here. If it had been outside… " I let my words hang in the air. She swallowed.

"You're kind of a tough guy aren't you? I mean it's obvious that you are," she said. "First Roger, now Demetrius."

"I don't know, am I?" I said.

"You going to do that to those other men?" she said.

I won't need to will I?" I said. She shook her head.

"Just let 'em know that they're not welcome around your body anymore," I said. Now she nodded.

I looked around; people were no longer intrigued by us. A man who had to be the maître d' came toward us.

"Folks… " he started.

"Okay, if we eat this?" I said, indicating the food on the table. He looked around.

He hesitated. "All right, I guess," he said. And we did, eat the food that is. Well, it was prime rib. Set me back $100 with tip.

******

We had early on decided to wait on the wedding until I completed my internship. That day was now but six months off. I was doing a lot of thinking.

As the actual day for our wedding approached I had begun to have very mixed feelings which Sandra was clearly doing her level best to allay. Demi was history, of that I was sure. After our little confrontation that day, seeming so long ago now; I'm, pretty sure he'd gotten the message.

But, would she cheat on me with someone else, a long term someone else, I mean once we were married? I was sure she hadn't since I'd discovered her, but I knew well the old cliché that once a cheater always a cheater. I hoped it was not gonna be a prophetic cliché in our case. At any rate, she could see I was concerned. I guess she decided to take the bull by the horns and say something.

"Still love me, Mikey?" she said. I gave her a look.

"Of course," I said.

"Trust me?" I was slower to answer.

"Ye…"

"Mikey, I won't cheat on you. Yes, I've done some stuff. And, yes, I will likely be tempted in the future-our future, Mikey; but I will not cheat on us. I will not," she said. I took her in my arms.

"Okay," I said. "That's good enough for me. I love you. I'm persuaded that you love me. So whatever you say is good enough for me."

******

And then we were married, and the first year was without a doubt the best year of my life. And no the sex between us did not become hohum-not even!

I had interned at my alma mater, but I had no intention of working there forever. I had a plan. I talked it over with mom. She'd always been my advisor, and she'd never failed me. The plan? To work at County for three more years, my post intern period, and get a little more experience; and then branch out on my own: I had dreams of founding my own clinic. I'd be hanging out my shingle in the poorest neighborhood of the inner city. I'd be a general internist and doing my best for the locals and their families. I did hope to get a little volunteer work out of some other doctors and staff at County in the effort.

Sandra was surprised at my choice of career paths, but my mom-conversely-kinda figured it. At any rate, no longer and intern, I was making big bucks at county now and my mom's mortgage got paid off right soon. She was relieved; it made me feel good. It was my first installment on all that I owed her.

Sandra still did her nursing in the big building; and, good 'ole used to be husband, Roger Grimes, still did his orderly thing there too. Was I worried? I mean her being so near her ex? Not on your lily-white. I was certain that she was mine, only mine and forever mine. What I was to learn later, and not much later at that, was that supreme confidence such as mine has a tendency to breed supreme complacency which in turn breeds supreme disaster. I was twenty-nine years old and the happiest man alive, and then I wasn't.

I'd done eight straight days in a row. The boss, Dr. Hirsch, in charge of emergency-one triage where I was currently stationed, decided to be merciful. He sent me home to sleep. I was looking forward to the sack time, boy was I ever. Problem was that to get it, as I discovered some twenty minutes later, I would be forced to inconvenience my wife and her lover. And no, not good 'ole Roger G, no indeed. No, rather it was some black stud I'd never seen before.

"Uh-excuse me, Sandra? But, I need to get some sleep. Do you think that you could see your way clear to take your lover into one of the other rooms to play," I said. Their heads snapped around muy prontisimo.

"Michael! What the…," she started. I just waved her off. I had to sleep. The battle royal that would likely be ensuing would lose none of its urgency and sauciness over the limited number of hours I would be employing to rest. No indeed.

"Later, Sandra. Later. Tonight maybe, I mean if you can spare me the time," I said.

The interloper was, in the meantime, breaking elapsed-time records getting himself the hell outta my bed and put together.

Him gone and her dazed, I plopped down on sheets still laden with the stink of sex and betrayal. Truth was I was so tired that I didn't give a flying fuck. I would later, but now at this particular moment in time-not. Five or six hours of uninterrupted slumber had to come first.

******

It was dark when my eyes fluttered open. I had to pee. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I stretched, yawned, and frowned as the events of the early afternoon invaded my conscious state. I figured she'd be downstairs.

I decided to shower, change, and think over the kind of reaction that I should put forth when we met up downstairs. Fifteen minutes later, showered and shaved; I was getting dressed when she came into the room.

"You mad at me?" she said. Her question stopped me cold. I mean should not it have been obvious?

"You tell me," I said. "Should I be?" She hesitated, then spoke.

"Yes. She said. "It was thoughtless of me and him doing it in our bed, yours and mine. I don't know what I could've been thinking."

"In our bed? Or at all?" I countered. She had the sublime decency to look away.

"That too, I guess," she said.

"You guess. You don't know! So, do you want a divorce, Sandra," I said.

Her eyes shot open. "No! Please don't be thinking of something like that, Mikey. Jeffrey was just an interlude. He'll-it-will never happen again," she said. I nodded.

"Let's go down stairs," I said. "I need to get something in my belly. I'm still tired but also very hungry. Okay?"

She put together some waffles and bacon.

"So, who's Blackie?" I said.

"Just a guy. Don't even know his last name. First name's Jeffrey," she said. I nodded.

"How long and how many?" I said. She started to bawl.

"Quit it, Sandra. If there is any hope for us, you have to be both honest and coherent," I said. She took her napkin and wiped her tears away.

"I only love you," she said, in her best little girl's voice.

"And, yet you fucked him here in our house; well, your house," I said correcting myself. "And, you did it in our bed."

"I am so soorrryyyy," she squealed. I nodded.

"Okay, so how many and how long," I said. Now, she wailed.

"Sandra!" I said, raising my voice slightly.

"How many, I'm not sure. It's occasional: maybe once a month," she said.

"Once a month? Well, okay, but for how long once a month, and how many?" I said, and yes I was repeating myself. She was wringing her hands.

"About a year," she whispered. She could see the shock on my face. "no particular number it's kind of a one at a time thing, not like before.

"Jesus, I must be some kind of wuss for sure. Not even a clue till I walked in on you today," I said.

"Any of them long term?" I said. She looked away.

"Sandra?" I said, pushing it.

"Only Roger," she said.

"Roger! The guy who put you in the hospital. And me too for that matter! That Roger!" I said, not quite screaming. She started bawling again.

"I've got to go out," I said. "I need a drink or eight or ten. I'll be back later-probably."

She didn't try to stop me. I grabbed a still virgin waffle as I headed out and gobbled it down. Well, my stomach was growling quite noisily.

******

The Firehouse is small bar, and the bartender, and by chance also the owner, was one Frederick House, esq. Why esquire? Well, he was, as he claimed, a defrocked lawyer; and, by all accounts proud of it: proud of his defrockment that is. Seems that he was less concerned about holding courts, judges, and of course other lawyers in contempt than the establishment was willing to tolerate.

Purchasing the Firehouse was a lark. Well, it had the same initials as his, and of course their last names were the same. He held that the two of them had to have been related, that is the bar and himself. I wouldn't be arguing the fact: Freddy served Gentleman Jack, the purest of Tennessee medicinal products. I'd been in a few times, and Fred, Freddy to me, was a kind of friend. We shared each other's pain as the occasions arose. Today it was my tragedy.

"So, doctor Dorne sir, what'll it be today," he said.

"Why Gentleman Jack, sir-and-a double," I said.

He smiled and headed off to do my bidding.

"Problems?" he said, returning with my prescription.

"I guess you could say that. My wife's a cheating whore. Just found out. Kind of a downer if you know what I mean," I said.

"Yeah, I can dig it. Been there done that, know the game. You gonna break up with her?" said Freddy.

"Don't now. Probably not. Gonna see how it goes first. Freddy, let me ask you. As a man of experience, if I keep the whore, does that make me the biggest fool in town, or is there some way I can justify myself in that regard?' I said.

"The biggest fool in town? Hell no! The biggest fool? That'd be me. But, I could maybe see you as being in the top ten," he didn't laugh.

"Yes, well as long as I'm not numero uno," I said. My friend nodded. I sipped.

"How many and how long," he said, turning serious. I snickered.

"Too many and forever," I said. He nodded.

"She won't be able to quit then. It's who she is. If you can live with it, keep her. If not get the hell outta Dodge," he said. My turn to nod.

"That's it then. It's decision time. A few more of these wonderful drinks, and I will make it: my decision that is," I said.

It was actually more than a few more before my friend seized my keys and poured me into a cab. I was delivered to somewhere on planet Earth at or around 1:00AM. I struggled up the more than imposing porch's four steps and discovered, to my great relief, that my key fit. The cabbie, a friend of Freddy's, actually helped me into the house and onto the couch. Sandra had not waited up. I think I had temporarily died, but I'm not sure.

******

She had the audacity to shake me awake. Wake up husband mine. Time to eat," she said. I rolled off of the couch and onto my knees. I made to stand, and I was victorious in the effort.

We ate pancakes and Farmer John sausages and drank a half gallon of Columbian middle weight-coffee, not cocaine. Not much was said until we were dabbing our lips clear of post prandial debris.

She was staring at me. Well, I knew for a fact that I was a mess.

"Hard night?" she said.

"Long one," I said.

"You drink alone?" she said.

"No, Gentleman Jack kept me company," I said. She nodded.

"Clearly. So, how are we doin', husband mine?" she said.

"Hard to say. You're good. You got a dozen cocks I'm sure to keep you happy; you know, like the guy this afternoon-uh, yesterday afternoon-good 'ole Jeffrey. I only got one; so me, maybe not as good as you," I said. "Oh, and I got an unfaithful whore for a wife. One that I love more than anything, but one who conversely holds me in contempt. Kind of a downer for me; well, you can imagine. So, again, how are 'we' doing? Kind of depends on one's perspective wouldn't you say."

"I do not hold you in contempt in spite of what you heard me say before, or saw earlier today," she said. "But, I guess I am a whore."

"Tell me, Sandra, when you and Demi were talking the night that I had you wired. You stopped him from saying something. And it's been gnawing at me. Tonight I kinda put it together. Anyway again, that last night with Demi, you said, referring to my cock, and I quote: 'It's enough for me.' But then, he interrupted you, saying something like, 'But you've always said.' But, you cut him off. What did he mean by that, Sandra…," I said.

"I don't remember now," she said.

"Now, Sandra, I know you remember just fine. And, I need to know. You going to tell me or not," I said.

"Mikey, if you love me, you will stop pressing me for all of this nonsense. None of it can be good for you-me-us in the long run. The past is past. Okay?" she said. "Let it be."

"No. I need to know. I don't want to have to be asking him or the others. But, I will if I have to. What was he talking about, Sandra? Please," I said. She gave me a look of pained frustration.

"Okay, Mikey. We-I-talked smack about you from time to time. It was stupid. I guess he meant that I'd said that your cock wasn't much or maybe enough for me, something like that," she said. I nodded.

"Something like that, huh," I said.

"It was nothing. Nothing then, nothing now, nothing ever. Just junk talk," she said. "We can get by it, all of it, and I promise to be good and faithful forevermore. Okay?" I shook my head.

"No, no, I'm afraid not. Today was proof positive that you can't stop. There is just too much stuff out there to get by. Truth is I'm not even sure if I care very much if you stop or not, if you can believe it. But the betrayal…," I said.

"Huh? You don't care if I stop?" she said.

"I said I'm not sure I care very much whether you stop cheating on me or not. You know, fucking other men. I mean I do care, but how much is actually a question.

"I was willing to try and get by Demi and the others. You know as we kind of agreed. Your word was going to be good enough for me. But, secretly I told myself that if you didn't rub my nose in it, well, I could maybe rationalize staying with you even if you did screw around on me some."

"But?" she said.

"But, today you did rub my nose in it," I said. "And, the talking smack about me with Demi: that's bad shit."

"Look, Mikey, it's all water long passed under the bridge. We can get by it. I want to get by it. Really," she said. "And there was no intent to rub your nose in any of it. None."

"I could only wish, love of my life. But, no, we will be getting divorced. "I'll be fair; just don't push it. Okay?" I said.

"Mikey, please. Rethink this. Please!" she said.

"No!" I finally yelled. "We're done. Try and get that." I stormed out of the room and went upstairs to pack.

It would be many years before I would lay eyes on her again, I didn't even appear at the divorce hearing; my lawyer spoke for me. I couldn't bear to see her, not then and not for that.

******

Thirty years old and starting over; well in a sense. I was a doctor. I was single again. I had had some life experiences, including unfortunately, a divorce from a woman I'd loved since I was fourteen-and still did love her if it came to that.

Because of the divorce, I had decided to cut short my plan to remain at county for three years; it'd been but a year and a half, and now I had to move on. Working where she did-and with good 'ole Roger still around-well, it just didn't compute, not for me. I couldn't be around her. I just couldn't.

Phoenix, Arizona beckoned, and I heard the call. I set up shop, an independent clinic, with the goal of working with the indigent and hard up.

******

Phoenix was my base, but my little five room free clinic was no more than five miles from the Pima indian reservation. It was the population of that particular enclave that I planned to service, though anyone was welcome to come if the need prompted them to do so.

I was shocked, and that is the only word that fit, by the popularity of my little clinic, and I mean from day one. I did get any number of Pima patients, but their numbers were equaled by folks from the nearby ranching communities.

Open at 7:00AM, closed at 5:00PM and runnin' the whole time. The good news? I hardly had time to think about the disaster of my personal life. Mom and great-gram were four hundred miles away, and Sandra and her herd of lovers that as well. So I was alone, and, I was lonely, but really too busy to dwell on either of those things.

I did get some volunteer help, from Phoenix Memorial. And, I got a nurse in year three of my adventure into altruistic medicine, one who almost immediately became my permanent associate at the clinic. And no, we did not socialize. Carla actually lived in Gilbert, a suburb of Phoenix, and motored in every day. Me? I lived at the clinic; well, it simplified things for me.

Our services were tied to Arizona Medical Outreach, an organization funded by the state which paid our salaries and supplied our clinic's needs for medicines and equipment and that gratis.

I made a fraction of what the city docs made, maybe 60K overall. Carla got a steady 30K for her efforts and a gas allowance that I was able to arrange for with the foundation. So, rich? Not even. But content, the both of us.

I should say, that Carla was not just any nurse as it would turn out, but a nurse with whom I had what would have to be described as an indirect social connection. Her full name? Carla Carter. To be clear neither of us knew each other, and it would be literally years, almost ten years in fact, before we became aware of our mutual tie.

Carla, had received her B.S. in nursing from Arizona State at Scottsdale, AZ, where she had transferred in mid-college career. Likewise, her NCLEX had been administered there as well. These very salient facts hid a truth that frankly might have never come to the light except for a quirky twist of fate that, one particular rainy day, put Carla and me in the Longhorn Bar and Grill at the same time.

We were celebrating the Christmas Eve holiday. I was alone, as I always had been since the breakup with Sandra that many years before. And, as it happened, so was Carla: whose husband had cut country the year before leaving her for some younger talent.

I should say I had made forays back to L.A. to see mom and grandma a few times a year, but the only holiday I came home for on a regular basis was Thanksgiving; the others I mostly spent at the clinic.

"Well, here we are, boss," she said. I snickered.

"Boss, my ass," I said. "You and I are partners of a sort at the very least." She laughed.

"It's nice having someone to have dinner with," I said. "It's been a long time."

"It's been kinda lonely for me too this past year," she said. "But, it's not all bad. At least I don't have to be putting up with a cheating asshole of a husband anymore. I guess there's an upside to everything."

"For sure," I said. "Same here. My ex is probably rich and more than happy to have seen the last of me."

"You've told me she's a nurse or was back then," said Carla.

"Yeah, she is, was, I don't know. She was back then. Worked where I did at the time," I said.

"You've mentioned in the past working for some county hospital in Cali," Said Carla.

"Yeah, County General in L.A.," I said.

"What?"

"USC Med Center. L.A. County General," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"What? Something wrong?" I said.

"No, no. A friend of mine worked there too. And that was about ten years ago. Pretty gal. Not much upstairs, but she had a secret weapon," said Carla.

"A secret weapon?" I said.

"Yeah, some genius who tutored her so that she could stay in the nursing program," said Carla. I was beginning to get a really hinky feeling.

"Friends name?" I said.

"Sandra," she said. I know I paled. I also know that Carla picked up on it immediately.

"Oh my! No shit?" she said.

"Seems like," I said.

"Well whaddya know? I mean I speak to Sandy fairly regularly. Well, the holidays. But, not this year so much. She's had some trouble," said Carla.

"Trouble?" I said.

"Yeah her husband and her are-were-at it," she said.

"At it?" I said.

"He beat her up. They were divorcing last I heard. She's moved out of L.A. Living in Tucson now. Well, last I heard. That was a year ago. She kinda went off the radar after that. Haven't actually seen her in a long time, not since I moved to Phoenix some six and a half years ago: and not heard from here since last year, like I said."

"Tucson you say, and maybe single?" I said.

"Yes. You thinking of maybe hooking up with her again," said Carla, half smiling.

"Hooking up with her? Interesting choice of words. I guess not. Like I said, she probably wishes she'd never met me let alone married me," I said. "But it has been a long time. I have to admit to a bit if curiosity."

"Hmm. She might be in the book," said Carla.

"No, no I don't think it would work out. She likes things that I can't provide," I said.

"Things?" she hesitated. "Oh, you mean things," she said. I snickered.

"You that bereft?" she said laughing.

"No, no, I don't think so. Just not up to her standards as one might say," I said.

"Hmm, you might want to think about tracking her down. I mean if you're still in the market. She might be willing to settle for a little bit less now she's a little older if you know what I mean," said Carla. She was giggling.

The frankness of the conversation was causing several reactions of a physical nature to happen to me. One, I know I was becoming red faced. Two, my cock was as turgid as it had been in years. And three, I was actually shivering wondering if my ex had anything left for me.

"No, no, I left under less than friendly circumstances. I'm pretty sure she'd not be all that happy to see me now. Not after so long," I said.

"Hmm, maybe," she said.

We ate we drank and the topic of my ex kinda slipped into the background not to be mentioned again; well, not that night.

******

I had, as mentioned before, a number of folks from Phoenix Memorial willing to help out at the clinic. One was a Dr. Velma Peters, a young female doctor, who was excited, as excited as I had been in the early days, about working in a clinic. The hours could be long sometimes, but the rewards in personal satisfaction were off the charts. This was a fortuitous happenstance.

The New Year's weekend was upon us. Doctor Peters had come in and volunteered to take over for the holiday. This proved more than useful because Carla had asked me if I'd consider spending New Year's Eve with her. Christmas Eve had been good, so I accepted. It was good to have company.

She pulled up in front of the clinic-where, again, I was currently shacking up-at half past seven that evening. She came in, all smiles, and had a glass of wine with me and Dr. Peters before we headed out.

"Where are we going?" I said.

"My place first," she said. "Don't worry. We're gonna have fun. We'll be heading out for dinner a little later," I smiled; well, I was thinking lascivious thoughts.

"Okay, mystery woman. If you're looking for sex, I'm your guy," I said, laughing. "I'm a little out of practice, but, you know what they say about riding a bicycle. And, I wasn't kidding. Carla was a nice looking woman and I was at the point-finally-of wanting to once again have a life. I'd cried enough tears in enough beers; it was time to get on with things.

"Hmm, that's not what I meant, sir. But, you can dream," she said. I nodded, my disappointment clearly obvious. She laughed.

******

Carla's house, and it was a house, was a three bedroom ranchstyle common to the area. It was well appointed and had all of the modern conveniences and extras anybody would want. And one such extra, seated on the couch, was my ex-wife.

"Sandra! What the…

"Carla!" I said, my emotions instantaneously in turmoil.

"Calm down, stud. I've talked to Sandra, obviously, and she is very interested in talking to you," she said. "That is with me present. She is a little afraid that you might want to be-how should I say it-less than social."

"Was I right, Mikey? You gonna slam the door on me again?" said my ex-wife. Her voice, I have to say, was music to my ears. I shook my head.

"No, no, it's good to see you, Sandra. Hope you're well-I mean… " I started. She actually giggled at my apparent confused state.

And it was good to see her. She was gorgeous, not exactly a big surprise her being her; but it had been ten years, and she hadn't aged, not to my mind's eye.

"Physically, I'm fine, thank you very much," she said. "You?"

"Likewise. But, why would you be interested in talking to me, Sandra. I mean you know my stance on my woman being a one man woman," I said.

"I know you've heard it before, Mikey, but I am a one man woman now," she said.

For some reason, I had come to trust the word of Carla. I mean I had worked with her for almost seven years. We'd never been anything but professional until these past eight or ten days; but she did have my confidence. I looked over at her now-for confirmation.

"She's giving it to you straight, sailor. She's gotten the bug out of her system.

"Give her a chance. You won't regret it," said Carla.

"Sandra?" I said.

"I swear it, Mikey. No tricks. No cheating. And, I'm just here to take the both of you to dinner and socialize. Raise a little Cain maybe. I've missed you. It's been so long. Forever really. Carla and I have it kinda planned out. I mean if that's all right with you," said Sandra.

"Okay, I guess dinner wouldn't be all that big a deal," I said, and that not unreasonably. The two of them smiled.

******

We headed out and set up camp for the evening at the Wagon Wheel, a largish country western honkytonk with loud music and a couple of busloads of youngish college students out to hurrah the neighborhood.

I was sitting with a couple of absolutely gorgeous ladies, who were a bit older than the invading hordes, but they were being eyed by the barbarians and I was thinking I might have to be defending my ladies' honor.

A tall Nordic god came up to us, and without a word to me stuck out his hand to Sandra. "Care to dance," said the maybe old enough to drink warrior of the night.

Sandra looked at me. I shrugged. She was clearly loving the attention. He led her out onto the dance floor. I watched with interest how he molded himself to her.

"She's always going to be the target of such as him," said Carla.

"Yeah, I'm familiar," I sighed. She nodded. Then something occurred that kind of bothered me. In fact there was no "kind of" about it: the dance ended and she followed him to his table. There was not even a backwards glance to myself and Carla.

"Well, that pretty much tells me whatever it was that I wanted to know. I'm leaving. You coming Carla?" I said.

"Don't be in too much of a rush, cowboy. Give it some time. You're not married to her anymore. Give her some room," she said.

"No, no. She was with us, and now she's not. If you're coming, now's the time. I don't need this. She and I will never speak again. But, I'm glad you got us together; it's given me closure," I said.

I got up and headed for the register. I dropped a fifty on the till and walked out. Carla had not followed me.

I was angry, but satisfied, if that was the way to describe my feelings at that moment. That woman, my woman, just didn't give a rat's ass whether she hurt me or not. I don't even think she was conscious of how she did me; it was just her being her. At least she didn't live in the same town as I did.

And what about Carla, my faithful assistant, taking her side. That miffed me some too, but that I could get by. I had no emotional investment in Carla.

I was just pulling into the clinic when my phone started going off. I answered it; it wasn't either of the women; it was my mom. It was an emergency.

Doctor Peters was on still on site sacked out in the spare room. I woke her. She was willing and able and agreed to stay at the clinic for the next week. Within half an hour I was packed and on my way too L.A. Grandma Stella had passed. All in all it had not been a good night for me.

******

"But, I was just talking to him-them-it was nothing," said Sandra. I was there for maybe a whole ten minutes. I was going to get Mikey and you to join them, us, to join them.

"Yes, but it was not nothing to Michael," said Carla. "This one you may not be able to fix. He wasn't even angry, just kind of cold. That it took almost a quarter of an hour, not just ten minutes, for you to realize you'd come with us was telling too. It sure as hell was to Mikey."

"Okay, they were interesting and kept me there too long. I didn't realize it until I looked up at the clock," said Sandra.

"Hmm, yeah well that's not going to be good enough for Mikey now. He's back at the clinic by now, and I doubt if he'll be taking you're calls," said Carla.

"Jesus! I really didn't mean to leave him hanging like that. I gotta go back and speak to him. He gets so jealous of me, too damn jealous. I know that; I just keep forgetting it. I won't anymore," said Sandra.

"Yes you will, because you don't notice that you're neglecting him. Best you just get on with things and forget Michael Dorne," said Carla.

"No, he needs me. And-well-I need him. I guess even at my age that I have a bunch to learn, but I can and I will learn it," she said.

"Hmm, doubtful," said Carla.

"Carla, it's been forever for me and him. I mean since he dumped me those years ago. In these last hours I find myself recalling all of the stuff that's gone down between us. The good, the bad, the ugly. And yes, damn it, there was some of each of those. But, so help me, the stuff tonight was not any of the bad or the ugly. It was just nonsense, thoughtlessness maybe on my part, but nothing that Mikey should have worried about," said Sandra.

"Yeah, maybe that would be so if there hadn't been so much of the not good in the past," said Carla. Sandra nodded.

"Yes, I do see what you mean. Carla, I'm going to hunt him down. Then, I'm going to fuck him to the point of pain. Then, I'm going to talk to him; I'll tie him down if I have to," she said.

"Well, you might have to," said Carla. The two of them giggled, Sandra more nervously than her friend.

******

The funeral for great-grandma was sad and right and worthy of a very good grand. She would be missed and that especially by me.

Mom and I talked long about the past. And then I got the inevitable question and the also inevitable busload of advice.

"So you saw her and dined with her and she did you wrong, again, that about it?" said Mom.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"How long did she leave you abandoned and neglected?" said Mom Dorne.

"Don't rightly know. When she went and sat at their table without saying squat to me and Carla, I cut country," I said.

"You don't think you might have jumped the gun a little," said Mom.

"Under the circumstances, I mean with our history; no, I was not jumping the gun," I said. Mom did not look convinced, but I was sure of my ground in this one.

I stayed with mom for the next few days, but life being what it is, I had to get back to work. I'd imposed on Velma, Dr. Peters, long enough.

"It was after midnight when I finally pulled into the Clinic's little parking area. I was more than a little fagged out after the four hundred mile drive.

I didn't wake Dr. Peters. I was sure she was tired from her week long stint. I didn't even bring my bags in. I could do that in the morning.

The clinic was dark. I just wanted to get to bed. The door to my room was ajar, but I didn't care; I went in, stripped and literally fell onto my bed. I fell onto it, and onto the occupant asleep on it.

"Mikey!" said a startled Sandra.

"What the… " I started.

"Sorry, Mikey. I needed to talk to you, explain things to you. I knew you'd be back. I asked Dr. Peters to let me sack out here until your return. I helped out in the clinic this week too," she said.

"Huh? Oh…"

"Jesus, Mikey! You're naked!" she said. I could sense her smiling. It was dark, but not that dark now my eyes were becoming accustomed to it.

I suddenly realized what she'd said. I started to roll off the bed to get my pants, but she restrained me.

"Oh no, you don't," she said. "I'm going to fuck your horny ass, and don't you even try to stop me," she said.

"But-no-but…"

"No buts and then she was kissing me. The familiar taste of the queen of sex, the smell of her, the almost bruising hardness of her naked nipples rubbing my chest overcame my initial reticence. I felt her slide down my body and engulf my cock with her mouth. Her tongue almost drove me over the top. But, she stopped, and, sliding back up my body guided my turgid manhood inside of her.

She began kind of a rolling, rocking, motion that did not require a lot of effort from me. She was singing for God's sake as she did me, I had to smile: "Save a horse ride a cowboy… '' I did find myself slowly bucking back at her each time that she drove herself down onto me. It took some minutes the way she was going at it, but I final exploded inside of her. With that, she'd sealed my fate. I would be listening to her.

She took me-and I do mean she took me; I was the pussy not her-two more times before she was satisfied that I had been properly drained of every nuance of male spunk. Her spittle from all of her kisses, too, added an acidic but very sexual odor to our love making. For my part, I tried to not be too rough in playing with her titties. At least she never cried out or complained. My God how I loved this woman. The greatest of truths? Love never dies, not really, and that regardless of the BTB crowd.

"So, mister?" she said.

"You tell me," I said. "You're the boss" She smiled her contentment.

"Carla said you were upset with me because, well, because of…"

"Yes, truth told I was," I said. She nodded.

"You had a right to be. But, that said, I didn't mean it, I mean I didn't mean to neglect you, Mikey, really. I was just socializing, nothing more. I was about to bring you and Carla into the loop when I discovered you were gone, pissed, and probably crying in your beer," she said. "You're a wimpy assed pussy, Mikey, but a nice one.

"Look, you need to let me lead you here. You're good at a lot of things, but not the same things I'm good at. I propose that you and I become a team. I follow you in what you're good at; and you follow me in what I'm good at. How about it?" she said.

She was being so fucking logical that I had to agree with her. Besides, she had the best pussy in the fucking world!

"I guess," I said. "I do want you, Sandra, always have. But, I am not into sharing you. Not on any level.

"You said before we left tonight that you were a one man woman now. You messin' with those guys like you did without talking to me, or even Carla, scared me. Maybe I did jump the gun a little, but with our history…"

"Yes, yes, I know. It was a dumb move. I should've been thinking, but I was loose and wanting to have fun-that's for us all to have fun, you me and Carla-hence me going to get the group of them to join us, or, us them," she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. "On another subject, how long you going to be in town?" She gave me as look.

"Forever," she said. "Or, as long as you're here. I've decided to let you remarry me."

"Sandra…"

"What? You don't want to marry me?" she said.

"I don't know. I mean I want to believe you'll be a one man woman from now on. But…"

"The trust issue, right?" she said.

"Well, yes kinda," I said. "I mean we can date, see how it goes. I mean if you want."

She gave me a frustrated look. "Okay, I guess I can live with that for now. But, I'm going to make it my business to rebuild that trust. So get ready, mister, for one helluva a full court press." I smiled.

"Okay, so you wanna stay here with me, or…"

"Yes. But this little one room thingy you've got here might need a little expanding. My clothes alone need a room this size," she said. And, she was being serious.

"I'll start looking for a house or a condo somewhere around here starting tomorrow. I figured I'd need to be doing that at some point down the line anyway. But, until I find a place, I guess you'll have to be living out of a suitcase," I said.

"I can do that," she said, "for the short term."

"I do still have the house back in Los Angeles," she said. "I mean if…"

"No, I'm committed to helping the indians and indigent locals. The clinic's my thing. I'm not into the big city money machine. I make enough," I said. "Besides, I guess I'm kind of a cowboy at heart; I smiled at my reference remembering the song she'd been singing."

******

I did find an apartment some two weeks later, and we moved in. It wasn't fancy, and I had the feeling that Sandra wished that it was. But, it was serviceable. At any rate we made do and got on with the business of resurrecting, as I thought of it, my feelings of trust and security per my lifelong love. And, regardless of any such minor misgivings, we did get on well.

We didn't just date; we got it on a lot. Well, we were shacked up together. But, maybe more important than that; we made out a lot. For some reason all the kissing and "clothes on" touchy feely was erotic to the core as far as I was concerned: it was like we were teenagers again.

Carla was there to encourage things, and she did, subtly, but she did. She sure was a boon to me, and, by inference to Sandra as well. And then it was six months later.

Sandra didn't work at the clinic with me. She motored into the city to work there three days a week, on a rare occasion maybe once every couple of months she'd stay over at the hospital.

Why was she working at all? She was only part time, but she made the case that since I was not maximizing my income that she needed to be able to make the payments on her place in L.A. She was adamantly against renting it out. I shrugged and agreed to her little nine to five avocation.

Doctor Peters was keeping up her volunteer work. We saw her once a week on a regular basis: usually on Saturdays, but occasionally other times upon request. She really did love working with those who needed her most. I had to wonder at her motivation, but in the end I just put it down to a true spirit of altruism.

Carla became close friends with Dr. Peters as it turned out. I knew for a flat fact that she, Dr. Peters, not infrequently stayed over at Carla's after particularly long Saturday stints at the clinic. And, I knew too that Carla motored into the city to visit Dr. Peters on occasion as well.

It was after one such foray by Carla that the two of them, Dr. Peters and Carla, pinned me. Sandra was doing a double that night and wouldn't be in till late or even the next morning.

It was after five; we'd already closed, when the two women approached me.

"Mike, could we speak with you for a moment?" said Carla. I looked her askance.

"Sure, I guess," I said.

"Mike are you going to remarry-I mean-are you thinking of remarrying Sandra?" said Carla. I looked from one to the other of the two of them.

"Not sure. We've-well-we've talked about it a little. But, well, you know with our history… " I said.

Carla tendered a nod in Dr. Peters' direction.

"Mike, I, we're, not saying this to hurt you. But, maybe you might want to think a bit longer about, you know, about remarrying Sandra," said Dr. Peters.

This was interesting, no, ominous. The good Dr. Peters, Velma Peters, had asked that I not refer to her by her first name. She felt, that such intimacy might lead to something she did not want it to lead to. We'd agreed, therefore, to stick strictly to our professional appellations. This had indeed on a few occasions led to some humorous moments, but in the main we'd just got used to it. But, now, she was using my first name, and the shortened form of it if it came to that; hence, the ominous feeling.

I replied in kind. "Velma?" I said.

"Mike, she has a boyfriend in town," said Dr. Peters. "Carla and I saw them together at the Javelina downtown; we were there having lunch. I looked over at Carla; she nodded her agreement.

I deflated. "Sweet Jesus," I said. "You've got to be kidding. But, you're not are you." They looked away.

"Mike, for what it's worth. We, the both of us, think that Sandra does love you. She knows that you're a quality guy. The other guy is a young intern, a Dr. Loren Crittenden. Got kind of a reputation as a ladies man," said Velma. "He's even hit on me. I think it's just a case of Sandra looking for a little variety. I guess she's just one of those women who needs-well-something more."

"Anyway, Mike, Vel and I wanted to give you a heads up. So, unless you're cool with her seeing other guys…," said Carla. I nodded.

"Ladies, do me a favor and don't let on to anybody else what you've told me. I'm going to be thinking long and hard on this," I said.

******

I'd said nothing to Sandra in the days immediately after my finding out about her extra-curricular activities. And, yes, I did get looks from both Velma-we were on a first name basis now-and Carla. I was, however, doing a lot of deep thinking.

Sandra and I still did the dirty. We still made out like teenagers on weekends. Every once in a while she'd hint at wanting me to move back to the city and become, as she said, a big time doctor. And, about us getting hitched once again.

I had so far been able to put her off, but the time was coming when decisions would have to be made. And, suddenly, that time was upon us. It was the shock of a lifetime, and that in more ways than one. My mother came to call, and she was not alone.

"Son, I know you'll remember your boxing instructor Jethro Hughs," said mom.

"Huh?" I said. The man stuck out his hand to me. I slowly raised mine to complement his offering; we shook. I had so far not uttered a coherent utterance.

"Mike, can we come in?" said Cameron Dorne. I had been standing in the front doorway and staring. I was conscious but not even articulate-until now.

"Yes, yes, come in, Mom, and, mister Hughs," I said. The two of them smiled at my little display of what was meant to be a formal welcome.

Twenty minutes later I had the short version.

"And the why?" she said. "Because, dear boy, he couldn't handle my having lovers on the side. So, we broke up."

I looked over at him. He had the decency to look away. Hell, I wanted to look away!

"Yes, and I absolutely regret it," said mister Hughs." In my defense, we were both young and impetuous and all kinds of irresponsible. Mike, I am very sorry for abandoning you and your mom. She needed me and I was-well-kinda puritanical at the time." I nodded.

"Mike, I'm sorry too. Jethro and I had been an item for maybe a year. You were five, almost six at the time and I was nineteen. He was a little older, twenty-eight, I guess; but I was a slut. I changed after he left me. I decided to dedicate my life to being a good mom since it was too late for me to be a good would-be wife," said Cameron Dorne.

"Mike, just to be clear, I left because my jealousy and anger drove me to leave. Your mom was so beautiful, to me, really, irreplaceable. And, if it matters, she never was replaced. I've been single and pretty much if not totally celibate ever since our breakup.

"Almost thirty-five years!" I said, hardly believing it.

"Yes. Anyway, last week, out of the blue, I decided to look her up," he nodded toward my mom. "The timing is right, Mike. We're back together," said Jethro Hughs. "I need her as I always have. I'll never let her go again, not for any reason. However many years we have left will be spent in each other's arms."

It was most definitely a Kodak moment. The two of them began to tear up. I didn't know what to say. I had a lot to say, but not anything that would have fit the moment.

******

Mom and Jethro had arrived at midday. We had lunch at the little taco-tia down the street. And then it was almost 6:00PM and Sandra arrived home from downtown.

She came in saw my mom and her hand went to her mouth. "Missus Dorne!" she said. Her eyes shifted to the man, a man she didn't know. She turned to me.

"Mike?" she said. I smiled. I think I mentioned somewhere in this story that I was a genius. A genius idea had just come to me.

"Yes, dear," I said. "Mom is here, and so is her significant other."

"Huh!" she said. I had to laugh.

"Honey we're all going out to dinner in town. Why don't you take a little time and get ready," I said. She agreed.

"I need to make a couple of calls. I mean this is a big occasion, and that in more ways than one," I said.

As Sandra headed upstairs to do her thing, my mom nodded to Jethro. And, as if on cue he asked if I had a beer in the fridge. I did, and he got one and headed out back to the mini-patio the place afforded.

"Well, young man, I see you and Sandra are back together?" It was a question.

"Yes and no, mom," I said. "There may be problems… " I didn't elaborate. I didn't have to; she knew immediately from my tone of voice. What I got next was the shock of my life.

"Honey, Sandra is me three decades ago," she said.

"Huh?" I said. Mom was slowly shaking her head.

"She's a slut, baby. I know you know that. She undoubtedly will remain one for a few more years.

"A bit ago I-we-gave you a simplified version as to why Jethro and I broke up those many years ago. It was way more complicated than that, I'm afraid," she said.

"Mom, what are you talking about?" I said.

"Did you ever wonder how I was able to afford sending you to St. Paul's and all of the rest?" she said.

"No, I know you worked long hours and Grandma Stella pitched in too," I said.

"Yes, right on both counts and that paid for maybe half of it," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"I was a prostitute, Mikey. A hundred dollar an hour whore. Jethro and I were dating at the time and when he found out about it; well, to make a very long story short he dropped me like a communicable disease."

"But why! I didn't need to go to that fancy school and the rest… " I started.

"Yes you did. Yours would have been a life like mine had I not done something. And, truth told I liked the sex, the variety. Jethro was my only love, but he could not satisfy me, not alone he couldn't. Until very recently I had to have sex almost every day to keep from going nuts. Those who say that there is no such thing as a nympho are nuts. I was made one when Ewing Thorpe raped me," she said.

"What! What are you talking about?" I said.

"I was thirteen at the time. Ewing, who I knew slightly was twenty-three: he worked at the super market, the same one that I eventually went to work for as a clerk. I guess I gave off signals that I thought he was hot. I was young and living with grandma and thought I was one hot chick. I guess Ewing did too. The short version: he cornered me in the back room of the market when I was coming out of the restroom and propositioned me. I told him no, but he just pulled me into a small office they had at the time, bent me over the desk, ripped my panties off of me, and did me. I didn't even scream as he took me. I had told him no, and that and my ripped panties got him twenty years.

"I actually felt bad for him after the fact. But, that said, he did rape me; and he did deserve his punishment. But, something else happened that day in that little office," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Mister Thorpe had awakened my sexuality. I had to have dick after that. I did a couple of boys at our junior high while I was pregnant with you, and then kind laid of the promiscuity for a few years as my sexuality kinda lay dormant. And then I was eighteen and graduated from high school."

"Okay," I said, "but…"

One Friday night I wanted to go to a club to dance and to meet men. I dressed to the nines. I was only eighteen, but I was out of school and single and wanting to experiment with-life-I guess one might say."

"And?" I said. "So what, lots of people go dancing on Friday nights. It's not against the law."

"No, but I went out to eat first. I looked good. Short red dress, makeup perfect, high heels, my C-cups all but on display-hell they were on display: I looked fine. And, a gentleman, a middle aged gentleman came up to me and took the seat across from me. I was surprised at his boldness. But I was even more surprised by what he said," she said.

"What did he say?" I said.

"How much?" she said.

"All of it. I want to hear all of it," I said.

"No, that's what he said, 'how much'," she said. I was finally getting it.

"He pissed me off, so I got in his face and just blurted out a hundred dollars an hour." He smiled pulled out his wallet and slipped two hundred dollar bills into the side pocket of my purse." I was dumbfounded.

"He said, "let's go. I want you for two hours."

"And for the life of me I followed him. He did me and I loved it. He asked me if I'd be interested in a regular thing. I kinda nodded. He took that for a yes, and soon I was doing him once a week and then some of his friends. I was making an average of maybe five or six hundred a week. It was then that I knew how I was going to fund your education." She said.

"Jesus! And Jethro?" I said.

You were already in St Paul's and your grandma and I were struggling, but then we weren't. Soon I had you in dance school and music, and then the gym with Jethro. He wanted to date me and he did, we did. And then he caught me and dumped me. But, he did agree to keep teaching you. Did I say things were complicated. But, he never again asked me out. And, I was still doing tricks. Well, we still needed the money.

"My point in tell you all of this, Mikey. Is to make it clear to you that your Sandra is very likely just like me-just a whole lot prettier," said mom. "She needs variety even though it is very likely that you are the only one she loves."

"Jesus!" I said.

"It's your decision, my good boy. Just try not to blow it. Follow your heart," she said. She'd given me a lot to think about in the twenty minutes she'd harangued me. We'd be talking some more, but I had things to do if I was going to making a decision about me and Sandra.

I got on the phone. An hour and a half later we met them at the Javelina; the them being Dr. Velma Peters and nurse Carla Carter. Sandra was clearly affected by the choice of restaurants. Well, she had been there already once that day. It was going to be a fun night-probably.

During dinner, the women got a cleaned up version of the story that I had gotten earlier in the day. Sandra was clearly affected by the tale. Velma and Carla on the other hand were more than amused since they too realized the significance of my choice of restaurants, but that being true enough, they put on their most empathetic demeanors.

"After thirty-five years!" said Velma, to the two seniors as the story wound down.

"Yes, almost that," said my mom. "He has forgiven my youthful indiscretions and now it is my business to make it up to him.

******

Mom and Jethro didn't shack up with us. They'd gotten themselves a room at the New Astoria Resort, a major hotel in downtown Phoenix. Carla was going to be staying with Dr. Peters. Sandra and I hung back.

We were finally home and alone. And, she'd gone pensive on me. I could sense that she wanted to tell me stuff. It was moment of truth time, decision time.

"Mikey?" she said.

"Yes?" I said.

"Mikey, this is the second time I was here today," she said. "Mikey, I cheated on you this afternoon. And, other afternoons," she said.

"We're not married so how could you cheat on me?' I said. I'd stopped her.

"Huh?" she said.

"Look, I've got a room here. Let's go up and do our thing, and if you want to you can tell me all about it. okay?" I said. She nodded.

"Okay?"

As we approached the room, 312, her mouth dropped open. "Room 312?" she said.

"Yes, is there a problem," I said.

"Uh-it where I cheated on you; I mean today," she said.

"Hmm, I'm sure they've changed the sheets," I said.

"Mikey, what's going on? You knew about me didn't you, me and Crittenden?" What's going on? You're killing me!" she said.

"We'll talk inside-and fuck," I said. I held the door for her to enter. She did.

"We fuck first," I said. "I don't want my little head doing my thinking for me when we talk. Okay?" She smiled and began stripping. Fuck she was beautiful. Yeah the fucking definitely had to be first; I mean but definitely!

I came to her. She was naked, but I was still dressed. I kissed her gently then not so gently. It bothered me that she had undoubtedly kissed him earlier in the day. For whatever weird reason, her screwing him didn't bother me near as much as the thought of her kissing him, go figure.

She dropped to her knees and unbuckled my pants pulling them down all the way to my ankles. My underpants were next. She played with my balls as my cock began to inflate. She let the glans slip between her lips and began to suck on them.

I started jerking as she came near to getting me off. She pulled my cock out of her mouth and aimed it to her left. A rope of cum a foot long hit the edge of the chair by the table and began to run down the leg.

"Time to get you up again," she said. She started sucking on me again. She inserted her finger in my butt and played absently with my balls once more as I rose to the occasion.

My cock, once again at full turgidity, stuck straight out from me. She lay down on the floor and spread for me. I mounted her and plunged into her in one cruel thrust. She yelped but smiled as soon as I settled into screwing her. It took some minutes, but she began to buck and thrust back at me trying to make it. I stiffened and came in a shattering climax. It had been a long day, but this was the cherry on top of it all.

She sagged back into herself as she felt the heat of my cum coating her insides.

"Was that good for you?" she said.

"Yes. You?" I said

"You did good," she said.

"Did you make it?" I said.

"Almost," she said. I felt a little bad. I did so want to get her off. I felt like I'd cheated her. I promised myself to make it up to her in the morning if after our talk we were still together.

******

I smelled the coffee. I needed coffee. Everyone over eighteen needed coffee in the morning, and maybe a piece of dry toast. I headed for the kitchen. She was already seated and sipping hers, and she did have a piece of toast, but hers had a smear of jam on it.

She watched me as I poured myself a cup and took the seat opposite her.

"Taking us to the Javelina was a nice touch. You nailed it with that one. But, then, you are pretty smart. I should have known that I couldn't get anything by you for long," she said.

"I was tipped off," I said. "How long?" she shrugged.

"Not long, a couple of weeks," she said.

"Others?" I said.

"No, not at the moment, but, there have been others," she said.

"Hmm," I said.

"You going to dump my cheating ass?" she said.

"We're not married. We're not engaged. So, technically, you weren't cheating," I said.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "You plan to continue? I mean with fucking other men?"

"Would you believe me if I said no," she said.

"Probably not," I said. "It's kinda who you are."

"You kicking me out?" she said.

"What! And kick out the best piece of ass in the state? No," I said. She gave me a look.

"Really?" she said. Her tone dripped suspicion.

"Yes, really. I mean I am not kicking you out. That is so long as you don't humiliate me or let your play interrupt any of our plans," I said.

"I've been careful to not let either of those happen," she said. I nodded.

"But…"

But?" she said.

"But, I will not marry you so long as you have this overwhelming need. Nor will we become engaged.

"That said, you can continue to play. We can continue to live together, and, love each other, and make love to each other for as long as you want," I said. "I mean if you want."

"Really? I mean I do want," she said. "But-can you really live with an arrangement like that?"

"Yes. That is with one more codicil," I said.

"And that is?" she said.

"I may do some playing too. I've turned down a lot of offers over the years from women who wanted to make me theirs. I've held off because I always hoped that sooner or later you'd get the craving for variety out of your system.

"Anyway, I'm not going to deny myself anymore. Well, until you tell me that you are done with the playing," I said. She nodded.

"So, to answer your question, we get on with our daily lives and never, but never rub each other's nose in it, if you get my drift," I said.

"Okay?" she said.

"Just remember, not rubbing each other's nose in it. Just do it once to me, Sandra and I will be leaving skid marks on the tarmac getting away from you," I said.

"I understand," she said.

"Good, then we have a deal, I guess," I said.

******

Epilog:

And we did get on with our lives. I never knew for sure when she was doing Crittenden or whomsoever, and as far as I know, she never got wind of the fact that I was fucking Carla Carter.

Things are okay, but we are getting older. I've been sensing that Sandra has been cutting back on her activities. Who knows, maybe we are turning the corner-finally.

Mom has married Jethro. And, hard as it may be to believe, Dr. Peters is dating none other than Dr. Crittenden; don't know how serious it is.

-----------------------------

   Series:Stacy and Julian Mccormack
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She has a young lover but assures hubby that it doesn't make any difference. Hubby is more than dubious.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/74002/stacy-and-julian-mccormack
Published:2013-05-05
Stacy McCormack and I have been married for the past eighteen years; I'm Julian McCormack. We'd been boyfriend-girlfriend, or fiancés for an aggregate of six years before that, if you count high school, and I do. And, yes, that makes our common age thirty-eight if you're figuring.

Stacy back then, when we were freshmen, was a dolly as far as I'm concerned. Five-nine, slender, silky brunette hair, and an hourglass figure even at her then age of fourteen. She has filled out a little since those early days, but she's done so in ways that have enhanced her looks rather than the other way 'round. Then there is me:, five-five; also slender back then, a bit of a paunch now but only a bit; sandy hair, somewhat thinning now; and all of my other moving parts in relatively good order.

Stacy's an interior decorator for Merlyn Home Furnishings. Me, I'm an electrician for Carter Construction, a trade I learned on the job and expanded my knowledge of in junior college. Financially we do okay. Her forty-K and my eighty has been enough. So, no, money hasn't been a problem for us. In fact our childless marriage has been pretty much problem free until this minute.

He was banging her good and proper. And, he was doing it on my bed; well, mine and Stacy's.

"Stacy?" I said. My tone, I was sure, sounded as disbelieving as had to be the look in my eyes. "Are we divorcing?" Their gaze snapped around and brought me into focus. She looked at me, wrinkled her brow, and sighed.

"Go downstairs and wait, Julian. I'll be down shortly," she said. The stranger on top of her was smirking-and not pulling out of her. If I'd thought I had a chance against him, I would have wiped it off, the smirk that is; but I didn't have a chance (He was well over six feet and at least two hundred pounds), so any revenge I might seek to secure in any future world would have to wait for much improved circumstances. But wait downstairs as she'd ordered me? Not hardly.

I might be just a union shop electrician, but I am an avid reader. Sun Tzu's Art of War was actually in my tool box: strike first, fast, and leave 'em baffled and bewildered. I left and headed for Carmen Mendoza's shop to get the ball rolling. We'd see just how her arrogance would play when she was served: Carmen was a lawyer.

Carmen was an old high school flame who I'd dated during a temporary break up between me and Stacy; that had been in our senior year at Middleton Prep. Carmen'd gone to state, gotten her JD, and passed the state bar. Had her own shop now. She handled mostly lightweight criminal law; but, I knew she'd take care of me. Besides, I figured I might need her investigative skills which I knew to be top drawer.

******

"Quit that goddamn smirking, Gerald Crabtree, and get dressed. I've got to go downstairs and sooth some ruffled feathers.

"He'll be in the kitchen, so you go out the front door and try to be quiet doing it. I don't want him to see you," said Stacy.

"So what if he sees me? He's already seen me, kinda totally, if you know what I mean," said Gerald.

"Yes, and that was unfortunate. I am not going to be rubbing his nose in it. Just do as I ask, okay?" she said.

"Okay, okay. No problem," he said.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Stacy immediately noticed that the front door was wide open.

"Gerald, wait here for a second will you?" she said. He nodded; he'd noticed the open door too. She disappeared into the kitchen. She came out seconds later.

"He's not here. He's left. Gone somewhere," she said. "This is not good. I knew he'd be in a snit. But…"

'Yeah, he probably needs a drink. I would," he laughed. "He'll be back. You might wanna give him some space for a couple of days. I mean before you lay whatever on him."

"Yeah, maybe," she said. Her look spelled worried.

******

I wondered if my disappearing would bother her. Realistically, I figured it would. I don't know what she would have been saying to me if I'd stayed around to hear her out, but I'm sure I wouldn't have liked it, of that I was dead-mortal-lead-pipe-cinch certain.

I signed for the motel room and was just picking up my little tote bag, when my cell went off. It was her; well, it figured to be. I answered it.

"Julian, where the hell are you?" she said.

"Why in hell do you care? But to answer your question, away from you," I said.

"You need to come home. We need to talk," she said.

"Why? Somebody else has already taken my place in your bed. Whaddya need me for?" I said. Oh, and a little young for your wasn't he? I mean you robbin' the cradle as well and screwing me over?"

"Nobody's taken anybody's place. And, I'm not screwing you over either. You need to come home so we-I-can straighten this out. Okay? Please." She said.

"I note that your tone is a whole lot different than a little while ago when you arrogantly told me to go downstairs and wait till you and your fuck buddy were done cuckolding me," I said. "And, for the record that does equate with you screwing me over."

"Well-I-I mean I don't know what… " she started. She gathered herself. "I didn't mean to sound-arrogant-bad," she said. "I was just surprised to see you. You weren't…"

"Supposed to catch you and the asshole you were fucking. Yeah, I figured that much out myself. You'll need to be talking to my lawyer, not to me directly from here on out. Mine'll be in touch soon. Bye," I said. I hung up.

******

"He's contacting a lawyer," she said, as she sat heavily down in the chair.

"At least he answered the phone," said Gerald. "You want me to stick around? I mean in case…"

"Huh? No. If he were to suddenly decide to come back and find us together. No, no, that would not be good," she said.

"No, I guess not," he said. "Stace, if it comes down to that, I mean divorce, I could maybe help you, but I'm not yet licensed…"

"Yes, yes, I know," she said. "But, I don't want a divorce. Eighteen years of marriage-happy marriage actually-precludes that. Damn it why did he have to walk in on us like that?"

"Well, he did. You thought he wouldn't be back until tomorrow. His parents, right?" he said.

"Yes, mom and dad McCormack needed him for something. They're moving, they needed him for the whole weekend, or so he said. I guess their plans changed."

******

"You caught some guy screwing her? Really?" said Carmen Mendoza.

"Yes, and she had the brass cajones to tell me to wait downstairs till she was done," I said.

"Brass? I'd say more like Titanium," said Carmen.

"Yeah, well, whatever," I said. "Anyway, how soon can you serve her?"

"Next Friday work for you?" she said.

"Yes," I said. "Can I sue the asshole too?"

"Probably not a good idea. Alienation of affection is a toughie and most likely not worth the time and effort, let alone the cost. But, if you want, I can try," she said.

"Okay, I'll let you know before the end of the week on that one. Would that be okay?" I said.

"That will be fine, so long as you do not want them served at the same time," said Carmen.

We talked a little longer, and made a date for dinner the following night. Well, she was an old flame of sorts.

******

I wasn't ready for it, but I should have at least expected something of the sort. Well, I didn't expect it, so she nailed me.

"Son, you have a visitor," said my mom, Gladys McCormack. It took me about four nano-seconds to deduce who it had to be. I was trapped. My mother would never allow me to shine the woman on regardless of her crimes against me. It's not the way either she or I were raised. I sighed.

"Okay, mom. Send her in." I said, unenthusiastically. She nodded and by that I mean she nodded gravely. Eleven seconds later the woman was standing there, and mom disappeared.

"Hello, Julian. I have tried everything to get you to talk to me. This was my last resort. Please, hear me out. Please," she said.

"What is there to say, Stacy. You've replaced me. I saw it. I believe it. That ends it," I said.

"Wrong-wrong-and wrong!" she said, and that with emphasis.

"Hmm," was my brilliant retort.

"Julian!" she said, in a begging tone.

"Get to it, Stacy. I'm here. I'm trapped. You've got me. Lay it on me," I said. "You know: the why, the who, the how long for starters. She took a deep breath.

She nodded. "Okay, Julian. But first I want to apologize for treating shabbily. I didn't mean to, but looking at it now, I guess I did," she said.

"Yes, you did mean to. It's clear to me you hold me in contempt, and figure you can do anything you want to me and get away with it. That your reasoning is flawed, however, goes without saying now.

"And yeah, you did treat me shabbily," I said. She sent me a 'please' have mercy on me look. "Oh, and since this is likely the last time we'll be talking without lawyers, the truth and nothing but, okay? Please." She nodded.

"Okay, okay then. The why: I need a larger cock than you've got. You're so small, and well, I just needed something bigger; you know, on the side."

"Well, I did say I wanted the truth didn't I," I said, wondering if I'd ever be able to get over my current feelings of humiliation.

"The who? His name is Gerald. He's a law student, last semester actually. And, Julian before you start calling him names. He's a nice guy," she said.

"Yeah, I'm sure. And, just so you'll know, for him, asshole is about as nice as it's going to get. And nice guy? Yeah right, nice enough to steal my wife away from me," I said, about as sarcastically as I could. She gave me a look.

"He's not trying to steal me away from you. But, how long? I wish you hadn't asked that," she said.

"But, I did," I said.

"A little over a year," she said. I looked her in the eyes. I was stunned, almost speechless.

"A year," I squeaked, finally.

"And, it hasn't affected us-you and me-in the least," she said.

"You mean until now," I said. "Because it sure as hell has affected me now!"

"Julian, think about this logically. Do not let this-thing-ruin us. We are a team you and I. A team always plays better when they help each other out; you know that. That's what I'm asking for here, Jules. Let me help you out here. Help you to understand where I'm coming from," she said.

"What? I'm not sure whether you got that out of Yogi Berra's almanac, or some drugged induced nightmare. But whatever and from wheresoever, it doesn't even begin to make any sense," I said. "How in the hell do you expect to make me happy that you are fucking around on me! And, as for me understanding where you're coming from, truth is I already do."

"Huh? What?" she said.

"Yes, you want to fuck him and you want me to be okay with it. That's the bottom line, or did I miss something in the translation?" I said.

"Well…"

"Yes, or no?" I said.

"Neither," she said. "I don't expect you to be okay with it. Of course I don't, not in absolute terms. But, I would hope that you might be willing to give me the gift of your understanding, and to allow, maybe grudgingly allow, me to have this little bit on the side." I started laughing. Well, it was funny. She was freakin' serious. She was.

"Jules?" she said. "Stop that laughing. Stop it right now."

"Sorry, but you're funny," I said.

"Look until-well-until now, have we been good?" she said. I frowned.

"Yeah, I guess, until now. But, now is not before if you get my drift," I said.

"Look, Jules, could you see your way clear to do something for me," she said. She was almost pleading.

"Yeah, and what would that be," I said, "suck your lover's cock for him; you know, get him ready to screw you?" I was definitely not laughing now.

"No. Go to bed with me, you screw me, and then let me tell you about an idea I have. Whaddya say?" she said. She caught me up with that one. I was horny, boy was I. Playing back in my mind the scene, him screwing her, was hugely erotic in a perverse sort of way. What the hell, I already had the divorce in the works. It might be a while before I'd be getting any, so why the hell not.

"Okay to the first part. You've caught me at in a weak moment, well, a horny moment," I said. She smiled.

"I want my handsome little man to be weak when it comes to me." She grabbed me by my ear and led me to and up the stairs of my parent's house.

She stripped quickly and I was only seconds behind her. Her bald mound set fire to my libido. I knelt and she came to me, but, she turned around.

"My butt, worship it," she said. I flushed. I leaned in and kissed her butt cheeks. "Spread my cheeks little man and lick my anus. Do it now." I complied. I'd never done it before. I figured he must have done her that way, but who knew. She leaned forward grabbing hold of the chair's seat and spread her legs wide.

"You good and hard yet, my dear little fellow?" she said. I choked out a yes.

"Good. You've lubed me up nice. Now fuck my butt," she said. She'd surprised me; she'd never let me have her butt before; labeled me a pervert for even asking the one time I had. But, this was no time for questions. She was offering; I was taking. I stood, adjusted myself, and pressed into her. She had to reach back and guide me, but I gained a lodgment.

"Now, screw me nice and slow. I want it to last a bit Okay?" she said.

"Yes, yes," I said.

It took a while but I had her three times: once in the ass, twice in her pussy. Jesus she was hot. I lay beside her in the afterglow suckling on her nipples. She said that it tickled, my suckling, but made no move to stop me.

Several things happened as a result of her allowing me the mercy fuck, and that was exactly what it was. One, I got her ass, that had never happened before. Two, she enslaved me: I had to have her pussy and ass and tits. I had to. And, lastly, I agreed to allow her to talk to me, to try and convince me to allow the status quo, and to not go for a divorce.

******

"So, it was good for you then?" she said.

"As mercy fucks go it was real good," I said.

She sighed. "Okay, and so what if it was a mercy fuck. I got off which did surprise me. You usually can't do that for me, but tonight you did," she said. "Anyway, you can have mercy anytime you say. Can't that be enough?"

"I don't know, Stace. I want you for me and me alone," I said.

"And, you have me for you alone. But, that doesn't mean there won't be times when I want the big dick to thrill me for the moment-a moment uncomplicated by emotional attachment or any sort of permanency.

"Jules, I want you to come home to me. I want you to forget about doing anything rash. I need you, Jules, for all of the things you do for me-including fucking me, and that regularly. Please, Jules, come home and be mine," she said. I was sorely tempted. And, as it turned out, so sorely tempted that I gave in. I would call Carmen and put the divorce on hold.

******

"Been a few days, missed you. So, how did it go last Wednesday?" said Gerald.

"Good-maybe. He's staying at the house again, and he's fucking me every night," said Stacy. "Your idea to let him have my butt was key. At least I think it was. He sure likes it for damn sure. I'm kinda tender back there at the moment." He smiled.

"I thought that that would get his juices roiling," he said. She snickered.

"Yeah, well they're roiling. I'm a living testament to that more than defensible fact."

"Is he doing any better at getting it done?" he said.

"Sort of. His first night back he made me cum—twice. It had been so long since he had; well, I was surprised," she said.

"And since?" he said.

"Oddly, no; close, but no. I was sure he'd figured it out, but again no, he hasn't. But, I'm hopeful," she said.

"And me? Where do I stand," he said.

"He hasn't brought you up, and neither have I. He knows I'll still be seeing you and that you'll still be doing me, but he's kind of adopted an out of sight out of mind stance at least for now," she said.

"Whew, that was a close one," he said. "I was sure I was getting my walking papers."

"No, no you're not, but…"

"Yeah, I know, if he ever makes an issue of it, and makes you choose… " he said.

"I'm sorry, Gerald, but yes; I'd have to go along with him. He and I, well, we have too much invested in each other after all of these years, and that even though we don't have any children. But, if everything breaks right, well, then we'll be okay."

******

"So you say you've decided to give her another chance," said Carmen.

"Well, kinda. I've moved back into our bed. The sex is the best ever, but how it will play out over the long haul, well, I'm not sure," I said.

"Hmm, I gotta say, Julian, that I'm surprised. Has she stopped messin' with the other guy, this Gerald," she said.

"Not sure, she doesn't bring him up, and neither do I. Kinda the elephant in the room if you get my drift. But, in truth, I think she is still seeing him, just not rubbing my nose in it," I said.

"Julian, I have to say, this can't end well. Women that have tasted strange and liked it rarely go back. And, I mean damn near one hundred percent of the time. They have to have it. Even if they actually do love their husbands, they still have the need-not just the want but the need-to play. What I'm saying is, that if you are not good with it or capable of getting good with it, her playing, that you will eventually be filing those divorce papers."

I looked at her. "Carmen, let me ask you, do men ever get used to it, allow it, become okay with their wives playing?" I said. She gave me a sad look.

"Some do, but not too many. And, among those that do, most take up playing on the side themselves. Kind of what's good for the goose and all," she said. "I don't see you as being one of those. But, you tell me. Could you do it?"

"You know, I just don't know," I said. "I've been asking myself that question ever since I went back. Not getting an answer either not yet." She nodded.

******

We were getting along, and I was all but certain that she'd cancelled on good 'ole Gerald at least twice because of spur of the moment plans I'd come up with. She hadn't complained, but there'd been a look. The look was kind of a "Well, if you insist" look.

I was doing my damnedest to measure up, measuring up being the operative term.

It'd been three months, maybe a little more, since our almost breakup. I guess she figured that I wasn't too worried about Gerald anymore and that she might could lay it on me to lighten up about him-them.

"Honey, can we talk? Would that be all right?" she said. My eyes narrowed.

"I'd rather not if it's what I think it is you want to talk about," I said.

"Please," she begged.

"Why do we have to talk about it? We've been doing okay, haven't we?" I asked.

"Yes, we have. Better than okay, actually. And that's not going to change if I can help it," she said.

"Okay, so again, why do we have to talk?" I said. She began to fidget. She clearly wanted to say whatever it was she wanted to say, but was weighing the wisdom of such a move. I wasn't making it easy for her.

"Honey… " she started and stopped.

"Yes," I said.

"You know-I mean you're aware that I've been… " she ran out of words again. I stared, waiting.

"Fucking him?" I said. She looked away.

"I didn't know. I was hoping not, but well, I figured you probably were," I said. I knew my expression was stony. "I guess you might say that I appreciated not knowing."

"Honey, I-we've, he and I-have cut way back. Honey, he fills a need that I have, and, as I promised you; I have not nor will I ever let it disrupt our time together, yours and mine."

"Our time together?" I smiled, I had a thought. "Our time together has disrupted your time with him sometimes hasn't it," I said. Okay, I was fishing.

"A few times. I don't begrudge those, not even," she said, apparently trying to reassure me that we were good in spite of those, what, inconveniences. I nodded.

"So why the need to discuss any of this. I liked it better with me not knowing for sure. Now I do, and it's going to be uncomfortable for me now knowing what you really want and that our time together is just a matter of you showing me mercy, not you actually wanting me," I said.

"Oh my God!" she said. "No! You must not think like that. It isn't so. I do want you. I do need you. I couldn't live without you. Really!"

"You still haven't answered me?" I said.

"Huh? What?" she said. She'd clearly lost her train of thought.

"Why the sudden need to rub my nose in it. I was happy in my ignorance. So why?" I said.

"Honey, I wasn't trying to rub your nose in it. Truly. I just want to clear the air, and be up front with you. Ever since that one time; well, I've been nervous that you might rethink things and do something, well, rash," she said. I could hear a "but" or an "and to" in there somewhere, but she seemed to be skittish about laying it on me. I decided to take a flyer and press the issue.

"Do I hear a 'but' in there somewhere?" I said.

"Well, maybe a small one," she said. My eyes narrowed to mere slits. She swallowed hard.

"Okay?" I said.

"Well, Gerald is graduating with his law degree at the end of the month. And, since we kinda knew that you knew that we were still doing it-on a rare occasion…"

"And?" I said, as she hesitated yet again.

"Well, Gerald asked me if it would be a good idea to ask you for a big favor, but not really all that big of one actually," she said.

"A favor. A favor for my good buddy Gerald?" I said.

"Please, honey, I'm just trying to be up front with you. Get your permission for, you know, the favor," she said. I was becoming exasperated.

"What favor, Stacy! Spell it out!" I said.

"Well, like I said, he's graduating from the university. He wanted me to ask you if it would be all right if I went away with him for a few days after the ceremony. It's a long weekend, Memorial Day weekend actually. We'd be leaving that Friday evening and returning the following Tuesday morning," she said. I sagged back in my chair. She had balls, so did he, an I'm not referring to the anatomical kind. I smiled; I had to smile.

"Four days. You want to leave me here alone for four days," I said. She did the smart thing and shut up. But, I had an idea.

"Okay, I guess I can live with that, but you owe me, and don't plan on me being okay with it ever again. You good with that?" I said. Her mouth dropped open.

"You mean you really are okay with me going," she said.

"Being okay with it is an overstatement. But, I'm willing to allow it, this one time," I said.

The fact that she'd come to me and asked me showed me that she was more than skittish about the possibility of losing me. As much as she wanted her king sized cock, she evidently wanted me more. Well, that was the hope.

"My main problem, since I'd been looking the other way about her fucking him anyway for months, wasn't her weekend of fun away from me. Oh no, it was the possibility that my rival wanted more from her than her body per se. It might be that he was falling for her. The question then became was she falling for him? After her junket with him I figured to know. As much as I wanted her and loved her both true facts; it could be the beginning of the end of us.

That night the sex between us was outrageous. She said that since she'd be gone the best part of four days that I had to do her four times. Silly, of course, just an excuse to make me cry uncle, but I was more than up for it. A piece of ass like Stacy was one in a true million; and that was both a good thing and a terrifying thing. And, if I was privy to that great truth, so likely was her future Clarence Darrow. But, no matter what, if she came back to me and kept her word; well, then I would begin the process of weaning her away from his dicksmanship, and that with a high probability of success. If not, well, I would have eventually lost her anyway. I figured this little experiment, gamble though it most certainly was, was worth it: I wouldn't be wasting my time hoping for a positive outcome that would never come.

******

"He went for it?" said Gerald. "I can't believe it."

"Yes, and that without much of a fight. That kinda bothers me. I mean why didn't he argue with me. I figured I could convince him, but he gave up awfully easy. I mean he is kind of a pussy when it comes to me, but him giving in so easy… " she paused in mid-thought.

"Maybe he's just a realist who knew you'd be going whether he liked it or not," said Gerald.

"Maybe, but, I'm suspecting it's something a little less obvious. I just don't know what," she said.

"Well, whatever it is, you do have the go ahead, that is we have the go ahead. And we are going to make the fucking most of it," he said. She smiled her agreement.

******

"You look very good tonight," I said looking across the table at my dinner partner.

"Well, thank you for that, sir. A girl can never hear that often enough," said Carmen.

"Another glass of wine?" I said. Rubios always had first rate wine. She smiled and pushed her near empty goblet toward me for a refill from the bottle I'd ordered for our table.

"You know, Jules, I still can't believe you okayed her spending these four days with him. Jules, she's flat cheating on you. Yes, I think she does want you enough to stay married to you because you're safe would be my guess," said Carmen.

"Because I'm safe?" I said.

"Yes, she's an intelligent woman. She has to realize that not only is she a cheater, but so is mister studley. Add to that, that apart from his no doubt considerable dick, he is very much younger than she is. She must realize that her time with him is finite: he will eventually dump her for younger meat.

"Jules, so long as you are willing to put up with her playing, you will indeed be able to keep her. Still, there is the remote possibility that she might leave you for someone else with more money, but at her age she isn't likely to be attracting many with enough to warrant her leaving you. So, yes, you get to keep her cheating ass. Yippee-eye-o-kai-yay!" she said. I laughed.

"Bruce Willis would love you." I said. "You almost sound like you're jealous of her."

"You're a helluva guy, Jules. But, mostly, I just don't cotton to seeing you being beat up like this. You deserve better. But, then again, you're so damn pussywhipped that maybe not," she said. Now, she was laughing.

We talked, we drank, we laughed: I was beginning to like the idea that Stacy would be gone for the next few days. Helluva thing.

I walked her to her door. She turned, kissed me, and gave me a look. I knew the look.

She stepped inside her door and held it open, actually leaning back against it. I shrugged. I entered. She closed the door.

She gave me another look. I followed her into the kitchen. She poured two glasses of wine. We sipped them silently for a long two minutes.

"So," I said, "do I get to fuck my lawyer?"

"That's the plan. Your dick long enough to get the job done?" she said.

"My errant wife assures me that I do get her off occasionally, so I guess I can give you a tentative affirmative in that regard," I said. She smirked.

"Okay, little man, let us adjourn to the bedroom."

We were naked in record time. Her bald mound had me on my knees and worshipping her. I kissed it, I licked it, I pulled my face tight into it, and then I yanked her down on the floor beside me.

"There's a bed two feet away," she said. I looked.

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot," I said. She pulled me up and onto it giggling the whole time.

We played a little with our hands. She splayed her legs wide and I mounted her. I slid in with only a little difficulty. I began screwing her slowly, then faster, then crazy fast. She pulled her knees back as far as she could, hoping, I suppose, that I would reach even deeper inside of her; I did my damnedest. She jerked and squirmed: she'd made it. I was as grateful for that as I was for any I'd ever been able to do. I just couldn't disappoint this woman. I just couldn't.

At that moment a hundred miles away there was a similar tableau in progress.

******

"What do you think he's doing right now?" she said to her man of the moment.

"Probably jerking off to a picture of you," said Gerald, laughing. She smiled up at him as he played with her breasts.

"You are so bad," she said, laughing. "You are so bad!" She closed her eyes and became pensive. Her thoughts were of her man, her good man, miles away probably crying in his beer. She'd have to be making it up to him when she got back; she was going to make damn sure he was a happy camper.

She felt his huge cock pushing inside of her. Her eyes shot open at the sudden interruption of her thoughts. "God you're big," she said.

"I've been told that," he said. He took her hard and fast. It was only the first of the evening she knew; it was all right if he left her hanging the first time.

******

Monday night was a marathon session for me and Carmen. She drained me. I couldn't be sure, but I was beginning to think that she wanted me to be unable to perform adequately for Stacy when she returned. I smiled at the thought. If nothing else Carmen had been the catalyst in the rebuilding of my self-esteem. Stacy had pretty much stomped it down; Carmen was at pains to build it up. A woman, women, had that power, the power to destroy and the power to rebuild. Men, all of us, were slaves to that very large reality; hell, it was nature.

Odd, me being just a blue collar guy and a hot shot professional like Carmen making the effort that she was making to make me happy or at least a little less unhappy for a little while. I wasn't sure what to make of that, more mercy sex the way I was seein' it. She liked me enough to help me out, and I more than appreciated it.

Another oddity, both Stacy and I were having sex with lawyers; Stacy's of course had not actually passed the bar as yet, but he doubtless would at some point. But, what the hey, I was making as much or more than most lawyers anyway. A social cypher maybe, but a hard working cypher for sure; hey, chopped liver I wasn't.

******

I was already at work when I got the call from Stacy that she was home: it was 10:00AM. She was taking the rest of the week off. She was worn out from her trip and she wanted to share as much time with me as she could, at least so she would later say when I got home. I tooled into our driveway at 4:21PM.

"God, I'm glad to see you," she said. She sounded like she was feeling some guilt. I thought that amusing, but I didn't make anything of it.

"Good to see you too," I said. "Have fun?" My tone was flat, not accusatory, not anxious, just matter-of-fact. She gave me a look. I was pretty sure that she expected me to be-what-not real happy, maybe miffed that she'd shined me on for four consecutive days.

"Uh-it was okay. Yes, we had some fun. The weather was good," she said.

"Where did you go?" I said.

"Refugio. We had a tent cabin for the whole weekend. We came back late this morning instead of yesterday; we wanted to avoid the weekend traffic on the five," she said.

"The beach. Sounds like it was fun," I said. I wondered how much time they'd spent in the water, if any, between bouts of fucking and sucking.

"Yes, I guess," she said. "But right now, I want to concentrate on you and me, not last weekend. Okay?" I shrugged.

"Sounds like a plan," I said. I actually wondered whether I would be able to perform acceptably given the athletic event that I had been subjected to the night before.

"Jules? Is something wrong?" she said. I looked her askance.

"No, why do you ask?' I said, actually not knowing what she was getting at.

"It's just-I don't know-you don't seem especially glad to see me. I mean I was hoping… well, I don't know what I was hoping," she said. I began to get it. She was concerned that I wasn't concerned about her liaison with mister big dick. I decided to pin her.

"No, no problem from this end. I am glad to see you. Well, I mean, yes I am glad to see you. But, you did spend the weekend fucking my rival, right?" I said.

"Julian McCormack, he is not your rival, not in any meaningful way," she said.

"Except in bed, right?' I said. "I mean I don't measure up to your standards there; that's the reality, right, Stacy." My tone had no rancor in it. I could see she was confused.

"Well… " she started.

"Stacy, you spent the last four days getting yourself fucked, and, tonight maybe you'll grant me a little mercy sex. I mean, I know I'm not up to his standards, but I can get you off sometimes, right?" I said.

"Hell yes, you can!" she said almost too vehemently. "And mercy sex? Well, whatever you want to call it, we are sure as hell going to get it on tonight and it will be my business to do you up right. Depend on it."

"Okay good, and I am looking forward to my chance with you," I said. "And, I will do my damnedest for sure. I know no woman is going to be exactly thrilled to have me do her. I mean my equipment… But, I am motivated. I want you to be at least a little satisfied with what I have to offer. I mean really. I know size is important to you, maybe to most women, but can offer enthusiasm, and you're going to get it tonight: my enthusiastic efforts.

"But, Stacy, I think you should know that I did score a little mercy this weekend, while you were gone, and yes, mercy sex, is what it was; I know it. What I mean is that I spent the last four days having a little fun on the side too. And it was fun, also too. We didn't have the ambiance of the beach to share, but we wouldn't have done much swimming anyway had we been there," I said.

The shock reflected on her face would have been comical if it weren't so insulting. It was like she couldn't believe that I could engineer a little on the side because I just wasn't good looking enough, or up to her performance standards.

"Huh?

"You were screwing someone else while I was gone?" she said. She was clearly more than nonplused.

"Yes," I said.

"Who?" she said.

"Carmen Mendoza," I said. "She's not a threat to you, honey. Just a little mercy for me on the side. A little gratification is all. I mean like you and studley. You were gone, and the opportunity came my way, so…

"We didn't plan it. It just happened, and I went with the flow." She took on what an observer might have described as a grave expression.

"You had a lover! While I was out of town!" she didn't quite scream.

"Yes. You don't mind do you?" I said. And, I said it so sincerely that she was momentarily stopped in her verbal tracks.

"Mind? Mind! Well, of course I mind… " All of a sudden she realized the hypocrisy of what she was saying and how she was saying it. "I mean-well, I mean I let you know, let you make the decision, as to whether or not I'd be allowed my little…"

"Hmm, yes, but all of that was after you'd already been doing it to me. After I was already your cuckold. I don't understand why you seem so upset about me doing what you're doing and have been doing," I said.

"Well, I…"

"It's no biggee. Do I have your permission to continue with Carmen? I mean if you tell me no, I will cut her off right now," I said. I meant it too, and she saw that I meant it.

"Yes, I would prefer it if you cut her off. But, we can talk about it. Okay?" she said. I had to smile and I did. But, I had my plan.

"Okay, if you think that that would be the right thing to do," I said.

"Thank you. We'll talk tomorrow night after dinner. Okay?" she said. I am still pretty fagged out

"Sure," I said. "Whatever you feel is right." She tendered me an exasperated look.

******

"Wait, wait, give me an opportunity to digest this. You're saying that while you and I were at the beach he was banging some other woman?" said Gerald.

"Yes," said Stacy.

"You sure he was telling you the truth?" said Gerald, he was serious.

"Why? You think you're the only guy who can get a woman to date you?" said Stacy.

"No, but him?" said Gerald. He didn't catch the look of disgust she tendered him.

"Well, he did, and yes, I believe he is telling the truth. But, he'll stop now. I hope anyway," she said.

"Stop him? Hell no! Let him fuck her, I mean if he really is. Whoever it is, she's isn't likely to be in your league. Clearly he made the most of what he's got when he was younger and got you, but he couldn't do it today. You know it and I know it. He's past his prime," he said.

"You know, Gerald, if it weren't for you dick, you wouldn't be here, and most women would see you as an arrogant asshole. One day your assholeness is gonna bite you in the ass," she said. He laughed.

"Okay, okay, okay I surrender. You're right. I was outta line. He's probably got qualities I'm not aware of. I mean he did find this little piece he's banging with very little warning. Unless… " he said.

"Unless?" she said.

Unless, he's been playing with this little chickee all along, and we-you-never caught on," he said.

"Huh? No," said Stacy. "He's not like that. He would never cheat on me. I'm the shit in this household. He's the white hat. He's too square to cheat, really. And the chickee's Carmen Mendoza; she's his lawyer, and she's quite pretty actually. I know her though not well."

"And, yet he did," said Gerald, not unreasonably. "Cheat, I mean."

"Hmm, true, but not without provocation. He sees himself as just doing what I'm doing. Probably felt guilty about it even so," she said.

******

The man smirked at the barkeep's question.

"No, Rodolfo, she's not my girlfriend. She's just a real nice piece. And, her idiot husband hasn't got it and I do; so I get her pretty much whenever I feel the urge, if you know what I mean," said Gerald.

"Jesus, man, you are a cold sonovabitch," said Rodolfo.

"Naw, not really. She's an okay bitch, just not anything I'd wanna get serious about. And I treat her right," said Gerald.

Rodolfo walked off shaking his head.

Gerald hardly noticed the small elderly gentleman at the table maybe fifteen feet behind him. Nor did he notice the small, but expensive cell phone leaning against the condiment tray. Wonderful things cell phones: book reader, web interface, camera, video cam, voice recorder-oh-and you can even call people like on the telephone; Captain Kirk would have been astounded. Good 'ole Gerald, on the other hand, was gonna be nonplussed perhaps even chagrined.

******

"Hi Marvin, so did you get anything so far?' I said.

"Oh yeah. you can lower the boom on him any time you want with what I got," said Marvin Johnson, my all too expensive PI. I smiled. "I had one of my field guys do it for me; he was a cop for thirty years. Name's Phil Carter. He does part time stuff for me. He loves the intrigue."

"Good, good, very good," I said. "Please have him stay on the asshole for the next week or so. See what else he might be able to come up with. I'm looking to not only end this Gerald guy, but to make her think twice about ever looking afield again. You know, like we talked about."

"You got it. Seeing the arrogant asshole in action at the bar really pissed Phil off, and he doesn't even know the guy," said Marvin.

"Yeah, well me either, really. But, I did see him in action, and I don't mean at the bar; I mean really in action," I said. "And, pissed off doesn't even begin to describe my feelings in the matter." My old friend nodded.

"You know, Jules, we've known each other a long time," said Marvin.

"Duh yuh think," I said, laughing. "I mean since first grade. You consider that a long time?"

"Yeah for sure. Anyway, as a friend, let me ask you. Why don't you just dump her cheating ass? The stuff I've already gotten here might not be grounds for a divorce per se, I mean in the sense that it would do a lot of good in the property split; but, it probably would get the right judge to go a little more your way than he or she might otherwise. In the end you're going to have to do something pretty radical anyway. I mean… " he said.

"I love her. It's that simple. I want her. So, I'm going to give it the old college try. Just dumping her, apart from any property split, would just leave me miserable and wanting and unable to replace her. Hence, I'm going to try to save us," I said.

"What about Carmen. She's a looker too and she likes you, maybe more than likes you from what you told me," said Marvin. I gave him a look.

"Carmen? Yeah, she likes me, and that's just it. She I don't think she actually loves me. Yes, she does like me. Maybe even a lot, but love…

"Marv, I need love, and cheater though she is, Stacy does love me. But Carmen? Well, I could only wish that a big leaguer like Carmen could ever really love a guy like me. At least me and Stacy are in the same league," I said.

"She's messin' with a future lawyer. If she's thinking like you, she might opt to move up in class," said Marvin.

"Yeah, that's my worry," I said. "But Carmen? You think she might…"

"From what you've told me? Yes, I do," he said. "You've had sex with her right?"

"Yeah, but Carmen has always been into recreational sex. She just helped me out when I was down is the way I see it, a little mercy for little 'ole me. But you think it might be something more? I mean really?" I said.

"What I think is that you should explore the possibility," said Marvin.

******

She sat across from me nursing her wine. I was glad she wanted to wait a day before talking to me about my liaison with Carmen. Plus, I wanted her to have formed her plans to cut me off from my boyhood girlfriend, so I could have reason put the boff on her funnin' with good 'ole Gerald.

Settling her stem glass onto the table in front of us, she smiled. "You know, Jules, the best piece of ass in town is looking at you," she said. "You don't need to look outside this house to get your ashes hauled, not even."

Marvin's evidence was in my car. I dared not bring it into the house. I sure didn't like it, the evidence, especially the way she talked about me; that was the worst.

"I told you I agreed to stop with Carmen. I'll keep my promise, Stace. Really I will. Would this be a good time to ask you to give up your extracurricular activities too?" I said. She frowned.

"If you make me, I will give him up. It'll be hard because he and I have become good friends, not just fuck buddies. And that's friends not lovers in the real sense of the word; the lover part's just for you and me," she said. I nodded. I did so want to push the issue, but she had all of the cards, not a good situation for me.

"I'd like it if you wanted to give him up. I mean for our mutual love, not because I told you to," I said.

"The day will come when he is gone. He's not long term. But, before that day comes, I really would like it if… " she started.

"If what?' I said.

"Well, you know, like I kinda mentioned before," she said.

"Before?"

"Yes, you know, that the two of you might become acquainted-friends," she said.

"Friends? With the guy who's made me his cuckold, and yours? No, no, that's not happening," I said. "I draw the line there. No-no-no-no!" She nodded, but it was a frustrated nod.

******

We were sitting at a table against the wall. No other customers were near us. It'd get busy by around 9:30, I knew.

"She wants you to be friends with him! Jesus, talk about brass balls. But, you did tell her no, right?" said Carmen.

"In no uncertain terms. It will snow where the devil lives first," I said. She smiled at my characterization of the impossible dream, Stacy's impossible dream.

"Well good," she said. I decided to take a flyer.

"Carmen, why couldn't my wife be more like you?" I said.

Her look bespoke surprise. "Huh?" she said.

"Oh, nothing," I said. She had to be able to tell that I was nervous and worried about something.

"No, no, no," she said. "What were you going to say?" She was clearly brooking no stonewalling.

"Nothing really-oh hell," I said. "Carmen, you're my lawyer. But, in these last weeks, you've become very important to me. Carmen I…"

"You what?" she said. I looked down. Did I dare? I decided that I did.

"Carmen, I've fallen in love with you. No! Don't say anything. I'll go," I said. I actually started to get up.

She came to me, grabbed me and kissed me. "Me too," she said.

"Uh-huh-uh… well, maybe I won't leave just yet after all. I'll go later," I said. I knew right at that moment that Carmen Mendoza was indeed a threat to Stacy's position as the love of my life. No, that's not right; she'd already supplanted her in my heart. Before I knew of the likes of good 'ole Gerald? Probably not. But now? Oh yeah, I thought.

We talked for almost two hours. Carmen forced me to agree to make one more effort to get Stacy to dump her lover and to be a real wife once again. She did not, as she assured me, want me regretting going with her on some sort of rebound thing. I actually argued with her; but, then, she hit me with the questions.

"Do you still have any feelings of love for her?" said Carmen.

"Well I-I'm not sure. Yesterday I might have said yes. Bruised and battered feelings but maybe something of the old feelings-well, maybe," I said.

"And, if she dumped the asshole, would that make you feel differently than maybe you do now?" said Carmen.

"Iffy. A lot of water under the bridge, and it's more than brackish. But in absolute terms? I don't know, maybe," I said. "If I hadn't connected with you…"

"Julian, I think you and I would be a very good fit. But, that said, I do not want there to be the slightest doubt in your mind that you would be doing the right thing to be with me. So, give her one last shot. If she cannot or will not end it with her lover or lovers, then it's on to plan B," she said.

"Plan B?" I said.

"You thank her for her candor, gather up the few things you'll need to get by for the next few days, and then come to my place and move in, and I mean tonight regardless of how late," she said. I looked up at the clock; it was almost 7:00PM.

"I'll take care of the divorce. And, no I won't screw her over or let you do so. She'll get a fair deal, but only that," said Carmen.

"Okay, okay," I said. "But, I have to tell you, I don't think this last hurrah is necessary. She needs more than I got or will ever have. I can lay it on her, and I will, but I will not stand for half measures. I need a one man woman. But, for you-I will lay it on her." She nodded.

The game still had to play out. There was still the slightest of slight chances that Stacy and I might make it; but the odds, given recent history, were mightily against it.

******

It was Wednesday night. I was usually late on Wednesday nights: had been the case since we were married. Drinks with the boys. I looked at the clock. It was almost 8:00, and she wasn't home. Had to be him, I thought. I didn't know how right I was.

I heard the garage door engage. What I didn't hear-mainly because of the garage door engaging-was the engine of the sports car pulling into the driveway.

They came through the side door together. They saw me at the kitchen table.

"Jules! You're home!" she said.

"Yeah, I am," I said. "And, hello Gerald. Just to get to the meat of things. Stacy wants us to be friends. Well, that ain't happening. I don't like you. She does, but I don't," I said.

"Jules! What are you doing?" she said. Well, I guess my words did leave things a bit on the opaque side.

"Just this. And, oh, I'm actually glad you're here, Gerald. We can get this settled once and for all," I said.

"Settled?" said Gerald, speaking for the first time.

"Yes, you can witness, Stacy making her choice," I said.

"Choice? What are you talking about, Jules?" said Stacy.

"Stacy, you and I have been married a long time. But, for whatever reason, in this past year plus, you have seen fit to make me your cuckold. I've let you know how hurtful such a title is for me, but you made the case that it didn't really matter because you loved me and only me and were committed to making damn sure I was satisfied in how you were planning to do me.

"Me, being the pussywhipped wimp that I am, reluctantly agreed to look the other way and accept my second class citizenship in terms of our sex lives. But seeing this… " I started.

"Jules, you were supposed to be out bowling… " she started.

"Pool, actually, wrong time of the year for bowling. But, no, I was sitting in a bar with a friend. The friend advised me, as I was crying in my beer, to come home and see if there was anything left for us as a couple. I considered it, and decided to do just that.

"But, imagine my surprise to find you here, with him, virtually rubbing my nose in it. I mean after all of our talks on the matter," I said.

"Julian, I am not, was not trying to rub your nose in it. Gerald would have been long gone by the time you got home at midnight or later," she said.

"I never stay past 11:00," said Gerald.

"So this is a regular thing," I said. Stacy paled.

"Jules… " she started.

"Look, Stacy, this is the way it's going to be. Tell good 'ole Gerald here that he is history forevermore. Sign a postnup that precludes you ever cheating again, and we will try to save this marriage and find our way back to the kind of love we once knew, at least that I thought we once knew," I said. "That or I'm the one that's history, and I mean immediately."

"Look, Julian, let me catch my breath here, okay?" I mean after all of the conversations we've had. And you agreeing to…"

"Not agreeing, Stacy, submitting to. Well, I'm done submitting. Now, I'm dictating. So which is it," I said.

"Gerald, I think you better leave. We'll talk," she said, addressing him.

"Not good enough, Stace. He's either permanently history or I am. Again, which is it?" I said.

"Julian, you're not being fair…"

"Okay, I guess I have my answer.

"Have a beer, Gerald," I nodded toward the frig. "I'll be out of your hair in a few, and you can have her."

"Julian!" she screamed.

"Too late, Stacy. I'm employing plan B. I'll be outta here shortly," I said.

"Plan B?" she interjected.

"Look, mister, McCormack, I don't want to come between you and missus McCormack," interrupted Gerald. I think he was being sincere in a youngish kinda stupid sort of way.

"Too late, boy," I said. "Have a good evening." I was outta the house in just twenty-five minutes.

******

"He was actually there?" said Carmen.

"Not only there, but indicated that he was 'usually' there on Wednesday. That since Wednesday is usually my night out with some of the boys. Said he was always gone no later than 11:00PM though. Thoughtful of him, dontcha think?" I said, and that quite sarcastically. Carmen just shook her head in disbelief.

"So what now?" said Carmen.

"I file for divorce. You finally say yes to me. And all of us get on with building a future for ourselves. Well, those are my priorities at any rate," I said.

"Okay, I'll have her served. Infidelity or irreconcilable differences?" She said.

"Infidelity. Frankly, I'm angry. I mean all of the arrogance, lies, broken promises. And doing it in my fucking house! Oh yeah, infidelity. I'll get you all of the latest from Phil and Marvin," I said. She nodded.

"Good," that oughta be enough. Oh, and by the way-yes!" A smile spread over my face and I took this new and wonderful love of my life into my arms. I was going to do my damnedest to be worthy of her.

******

Stacy got her back up and did her damnedest to stop the divorce and get me back Promised to never stray again. But, what she refused to do was sign any kind of a postnup. It wouldn't have mattered anyway; I was done hoping and praying. She'd had her final opportunity to get with the program, and had tried to sidestep it. I figured that was what she was trying to do now. But, whatever, she and I were done.

She had been able to get the court to force counseling, but in the end I was adamant, and it came to naught, the counseling.

We did have a final sit down, but tis time it was with my lawyer present. No more would I put myself in the position of her dropping her pants and essentially enslaving me. No, no, she held all of the bullet in that kind of set-to.

******

Carmen and I were married almost exactly a year after that night in the kitchen with Gerald. And what of Gerald?

He did move in with her for a while, but as Carmen had predicted early on, he did tire of the older woman and opted for younger birds that came at his handsome well-endowed person with a vengeance.

Stacy still worked for the same place, Merlyn Home Furnishings. I still labored for Carter Construction. I gave her the house, with me making the payments till it was paid off, that in lieu of alimony-sixty thousand to go. No kids so that was not an issue. I was satisfied.

"Carmen, who after the fact I discovered, made twice what I did, made me sign a prenup. Oh, she trusted me right enough. But, as she said, if I never cheated or decided to dump her for money or some younger chickee; well, then the prenup meant nothing anyway. I agreed. And, I had no problem with it.

What benefit did I get out of things? Fantastic sex to start the list; and, a woman who was satisfied, believe it or not, with what physical attributes I brought to the table; and, a much improved lifestyle both socially and otherwise.

I was in love, she was in love-and that with me-and the future looked real good. Helluva note.

-----------------------------

   Series:Stephanie and Willard Browne
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She probably loves the guy, but she has issues the like of which are truly disconcerting.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/72227/stephanie-and-willard-browne
Published:2012-09-29
The Hamilton High late December homecoming game and dance, and the related after event parties, was always the big event of the upcoming 1new year, every year, kind of a pre-prom I guess one might say. I was taking Stephanie Ward, my girlfriend of the past year. We were both seniors and were even talking about getting engaged and hitched after high school. The plan was for us to get engaged, me join the army and learn a trade, and for her to go to nursing school. And, upon my return, we'd get married. That was the plan; it was the plan no longer.

"Yes, Darla, he's taking me. It'll be boring, but it's better than nothing; not much better, but better," I heard her say. Darla Willis was Steph's best friend.

"Question Steph, if you think he's such a loser why do you stay with him. You could find a better class of guy if you wanted to?" said Darla. I heard my soon to be ex-girlfriend snicker.

"Take a closer look girlfriend, I'm overweight, My brown hair is always frowsy looking, I'm too damn tall, and my personality isn't the most engaging if you get my drift. What decent looking guy is going to want to have me around? I might be able to snare one of the nerds are us crowd; they're desperate to a man, but even Willard is better than them. No, I'm stuck with the guy, no doubt about it.," she said.

"All of the things you just downed yourself for are fixable-all of them-Steph, except being tall; and I see that as an advantage not a drawback. Willard on the other hand is not fixable. He's short, at best a C student, utterly without talent as a boy animal, and possessed of personality roughly analogous to watching the fishing channel. You really need to boost your standards, girl, really," said Darla. Stephanie did not catch the slight and very strange look in her girlfriend's eyes.

I heard my soon to be ex sigh. "Yeah, I guess," she said. "But it's too late to start the campaign now. Homecoming is this weekend."

I was stunned. Now I wondered why she'd agreed to be my woman, why she was making plans to marry me. Of course, having heard what I'd just heard, the answer was simple enough I supposed: she was of the opinion that she had to settle for me. Clearly her friend Darla was getting her to rethink her decision. I planned to second Darla.

I coughed to gain their attention. "Hi Darla, how's it going? Never mind Homecoming, Steph, I wouldn't want you to be seen with a short, romantically untalented, less than interesting, C student. You need to do what Darla is suggesting and raise your standards. Have a nice day, both of you," I said. Now it was the two of them that were stunned. I turned and walked off.

"Shit!" I heard her say to my back. "Will, stop. We need to talk. You can't just dump me four days before Homecoming." She was saying all of this as she tried to keep up with me. I wasn't running, but I was walking fast. I stopped and turned to her.

"After what you just said about me to Darla! A girl by the way who will spread it all over the school before lunch is over? I mean you expect me to take you to Homecoming after all of that!" I said. She sighed; she seemed to be doing a lot of that.

"Yes. You have to. I've spent; well, my dad's spent, a ton of money on my dress, I've got appointments at the hairdressers and the manicurist; you can't just dump on me and run off with your tail between your legs because I hurt your feelings! You have an obligation," she said. I couldn't believe her gall or her reasoning. But, at the same time I was intrigued.

I noticed we were standing in front of the girls' bathroom: how fucking appropriate, I thought. "An obligation? When you clearly hold me in contempt? How do you figure I have an obligation?" I said.

"Okay, I was out of line, saying those things to Darla. I apologize, okay. And, I will make sure she doesn't repeat what all I said. Yes, I know I dented your ego, and I'm sorry for that. But, frankly Willard, you are too short and you are boring and you are not all that bright; but, all that said, I'm no prize either. We need each other. You have to take me to Homecoming. I'd just die if you humiliated me like that, Will. Please, dump me afterwards if you still want to, but you have to take me," she said. I stared at her. I stood there switching my weight from one foot to the other. I stopped.

"Okay, I'll take you. But don't expect a lot of enthusiasm on my part. You hurt me pretty good with all you said. As for after Saturday, you can consider us history. You can start hunting for my replacement after that. Got it?" I said. She nodded.

"I'll make it worth your while," she said. "No more put downs, I promise. Just take me and be polite. Okay?"

"Yeah right," I said. I had acquiesced at least partly because my dad had also spent a ton of money. I had a new suit, a forty dollar corsage already paid for, and a limo also already paid for. By honoring my "obligation" I'd at least get the use out of them, and who knew, maybe I'd find me a new woman; I'd sure as hell be scouting the floor for one. I was not the loser she and her friend Darla apparently thought me.

Yes, I was short at five-five. Yes, I was an inexperienced lover, but I'd could learn. And, I was most definitely not a fucking C student, not really; I got C's and B's that was true, but I could have gotten A's, just not while working the thirty hours plus a week, every week, all nights and weekends, that I did. Why work so hard? I had been saving up for our wedding, mine and Stephanie's. My family was not actually rot gut poor, but rich we definitely were not: lower middle class pretty much described us.

******

Homecoming was being held in our school gym. It wasn't crowded yet. Steph and I were not the first ones there but we were early. We meandered our way over to the already set up refreshment table. I ladled out a plastic glass of punch for her. She took a sip as I was ladling out one for myself.

"Jesus, Will, somebody's already spiked this stuff," she said. "Rum, I think."

"I tried it. You're right," I said. "And it is Rum. I'm bettin' one-fifty-one."

"This is going to be one hell of a party, boyfriend," she said.

"Boyfriend?" I repeated.

"Your ego still in the shitter from what I said the other day?" she said.

"Yeah, right along with my heart, girlfriend," I said.

"Will, I am really sorry for my stupid remarks. My head had to be a yard up my ass for sure. Forgive me?" she said. I stared at her for a long moment.

"What the hell. Okay, but no more of that stuff. Okay?" I said. Okay, I was hard up; so shoot me.

"You got it," she said.

People began arriving. The professional DJ hired for the evening got things started. Soon the gym was filled with laughing and clowning students doin' the boogie and generally getting down.

Steph and I danced the first three numbers, one of which was slow. She gave me the high sign and I headed for refills at the punch bowl. Yeah we knew what was what, and we figured so what.

Then something happened that surprised me, and I think Stephanie more than me: different boys began asking her to dance. She did look good from my perspective; she'd outdone herself at the beauty parlor. But, nobody had ever cut my time with her before, but now they were-they meaning plural. Before the night was over I'd gotten but one more dance with her; and, spent less than twenty minutes with her total socializing when we-she-wasn't dancing.

I should note that I did get two dances myself apart from my four with Steph. Both of those were with Darla Willis, go figure. It might be useful to note something about Darla here. Darla was a cheerleader with a cheerleader's body and ponytail and C-cup breasts and bubble butt and bubbly personality and parents with money; put another way, utterly out of my league. So why did 'she' ask me to dance? I had my suspicions, but she did, and I did-dance with her that is.

Then the night was over, and something happened that frosted me pretty good. Stephanie came up to me, looking kinda sheepish, and asked if it would be all right for Sammy Gilchrist, El Jocko Mangusto Supremo, to take her home. "I know you're probably disappointed, Will, if you say no I'll just tell him I'm going home with you. But…"

It was surreal. After all her efforts to make up with me. After my reprogramming my head to forget about all she'd said about me to Darla that day. After all of my planning to get with her after the dance and surrender my cherry to her; she wanted to go home with Sammy Gilchrist. Well fuck! I gave her my you've got to be shittin' me look.

"Whatever, Stephanie, go ahead. Go, make his day, I mean night," I said. She gave me a look, touched my cheek, and strode off to join her new boyfriend.

******

The following Monday she plopped down across from me in the cafeteria. "Hi Will, we got a party to go to Saturday night at Andrea's; I just got the word. It's her birthday," she said. I looked at her, stood, picked up my platter, and walked off. I think she was actually surprised. I was dumping my trash when she caught up behind me.

"Will? Is something wrong?" she said. I couldn't believe her. I actually thought it was funny. I laughed, causing any number of other folks to stare at us. I didn't answer her; I just walked off leaving her there. But that wasn't the end of it, oh no, that would have been too much to ask.

I was in the caf early the following morning when she plopped down across from me much as Stephanie had the day before. She looked good; well, she always did.

"Good morning, Darla. You're up early too, I see."

"Yes, I need to do a little prepping for a quiz in Michelson's class," she said. I nodded and went back to nibbling on my bran muffin.

"You not talking to Steph?" she said. I gave her a look that was meant to say what-business-is-it-of yours. She ignored it.

"Willard?" she said.

"Why do you care, if I may ask?" I said.

"She's my friend and she's hurt because of your apparent attitude," said Darla.

"Hmm, My attitude? You do know she dumped me at Homecoming, right?" I said. "Doesn't leave me much room to maneuver does it?"

"She didn't dump you. She just…"

"Yeah just went home with another guy. She fucking dumped me, Darla, and this time there is no forgiveness for what she did!

"Let me lay it out for you, Darla. My dad spent $300 bucks for my night with Stephanie-three hundred we could barely afford by the way. And, I'd made plans for after the dance too. Plans that included making out with Stephanie and saying numerous sweet nothings in her ear in hopes of getting into her pants. But, then, she comes up to me, all sweet and everything, and tells me she wants to dump me to go out with Sammy. That after ignoring me on the dance floor half the night-also mostly with him by the way. And now, you show up here telling me she's upset with me!"

"You danced with other people too," said Darla.

"No, Darla, I danced with you, twice, probably at her request so she could say that I danced with others too. I'm not an idiot, Darla. And, I am no longer associated in any fashion whatsoever with her. Tell her that, so I can get on with my life. Okay?"

"Okay, if that's the way you want it," she said. "But, I think you are making a big mistake."

"I'll tell you what, Darla. Answer me one question honestly. If the answer is the right one, I'll make one more try with my likely soon to be ex-girlfriend Stephanie Ward," I said.

"Okay?" she said.

"Did she or did she not ask you to dance with me to keep me happy?" I said. She looked away. I smiled, but mine was a sardonic smile.

"Like I said, Darla. Oh, and do give my ex-girlfriend my best. Okay?" I walked off. Nor in the long run was that the end of things.

******

I got looks from Stephanie, and from Darla too for that matter, during those final months of our common high school experience, but neither tried to actually engage me in conversation. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. But, on graduation day that changed. Stephanie approached me.

We were still in our grad suits, but getting ready to head out to the inevitable after-grad parties planned for that night and then to the college or workplace that beckoned our young an optimistic persons.

I was just coming out of the bathroom and heading for my dad's car-I'd borrowed it-with the intention of going to Carla Kidd's house for the party she was having. Carla was a nerd and a friend of mine, and I'd gotten her invite first and committed myself to going.

"Congratulations Willard. I guess you'll be heading off to state now," she said. I looked her up and down. The intensity of my ire had faded to some extent over the past five months. I decided to be pleasant.

"Hello, Stephanie. Congratulations to you too," I said.

"Got a minute?' she said.

"I really don't Stephanie. I have a party to go to," I said. "I still have to go home and get ready."

"Just a minute or two, Will, for old time's sake," she said. I shrugged.

"Okay. Whatcha got?" I said.

"Well, I've got a proposition for you," she said. I could feel my eyes narrowing.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to invite myself to be your date at the party," she said. I actually snickered.

"After what you did to me at Homecoming!" I said. "I don't think so. I'm not into compounding my humiliation."

"That was rotten of me wasn't it. But, if you'd have a little mercy on this girl, I'd guarantee that it would not happen again-ever-and I promise to more than make it up to you," she said.

"Yes it was rotten of you," I said. "I'm still trying to get over it if you wanna know." She looked down.

"Will, I am very ashamed for doing that to you. Maybe it was the punch. I don't know. Or, Sam was a jock-one who'd never given me so much as a sidelong glance before-and he was offering me a ride in his Corvette and to be his date for the parties. I was overwhelmed. I was a stinker, Will; I know it; and I want to make it up to you," she said.

Well, I didn't have a date for the party, and I would feel a lot better having one, so you guessed it; I buckled, knuckled under, gave in, surrendered to my hormones. "Okay, I guess. I'll run you home to get ready, and then I'll pick you up at 6:30. Okay?"

"Sure bet, Will. Let's go," she said.

I was very leery about dating this particular girl, but then, what could be the harm, or the worst she could do to me? Run off again? Hell, I half expected her too. But, I reasoned, maybe it would be all right.

I did pick her up and we did make it to the party. After the party we did really good, at two lover's point. She pulled my pants down and did an oral number on my dick that on a scale of one to ten was definitely an eleven. I did wonder where, and who with, that she'd picked up that particular skill.

She didn't let me fuck her, claimed it was her time of month. But, I did get to taste her nipples for the first time, and I became an instant titty man. We made out for three hours. It was the best love making ever! Well it was for me.

I dropped her at her parent's door. It was 3:00AM. We kissed goodnight.

"We good again, Will?" she said, just as she was about to step inside her house.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Yes." She smiled, touched my cheek, and went inside.

I guess I had a girlfriend again.

I still had a month to go before I headed off to college. I called her on the Monday after our makeup date, as I now thought of it. We made dates for the following Friday and Saturday nights. I was looking forward to hitting a homerun on both of them. Now, that I gotten to third base, I figured it was a done deal. Well, hope springs eternal.

******

Friday came slow, but it did come, and I picked her up at her parent's house and we went to the movies. We got a bite to eat at Johnny's Eatery afterwards, and I started to drive us out to the point.

"Where are you taking us, Will?" she said.

"To our secret place," I said, grinning from ear to ear. She was silent for a moment.

"Will, would you mind if I begged off tonight. I am so tired, and there's always tomorrow," she said. The disappointment I felt must have been obvious even in the darkness. Or, maybe it was my silence that clued her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But, I promise. I will make it up to you. Okay?" she said.

What could I say. "Sure, okay. Tomorrow then, okay?" I said. She smiled, but it was not an engaging smile. It was more like a not-engaging smile. But, what could I do. Well, it turned out that there would be nothing that I could do.

I went to pick her up the next evening at 6:30, the agreed upon time. Her mom met me at the door.

"Will?" said Mrs. Ward.

"Here to pick her up," I said.

"Will, she left with Sammy not half an hour ago. Did she know you'd be coming by?"

"I guess not," I said. I turned and walked off and out of her life, Stephanie's.

The next morning I got a call; mom answered it. It was Stephanie. "Honey, it's Stephanie," said my mom.

"I took the call on the line in the hall. I didn't say hello and I didn't wait for her to say anything. "Don't call here anymore Stephanie. We're done," and I hung up." I waited by the phone to see if she'd ignore my dictum. She didn't. I went back to my room and finished an email I was writing to state, where I'd be taking my first classes in three weeks.

I was sitting in a booth at our local IHOP two days later when Tanto showed up. "Hello, Darla, You here again for the same reason as last time? If so take a hike," I said.

"No, she didn't ask me to talk to you. She did mention that you were probably pissed," she said.

"No, I'm just putting her behind me and moving on. She's just too hard on the old psyche. I don't need the aggravation. Give her my best when you see her, and please assure her that I do not want to communicate with her-ever again! Okay?" I said.

"Okay, okay," said Darla. "What about me?"

"What about you?" I said.

"Wanna date me. I mean I am way out of your league, but, I see you as someone who will be going somewhere, a winner; and, I want a winner to be my significant other. How about it," she said. I stared at her like she was from the Red Planet Mars. After all I'd heard her say those months before, all of a sudden I was a winner? Suspicious didn't even come close to covering it; still, I was intrigued.

"You putting me on, Darla? Because, if you are, I don't appreciate it," I said.

"No, just giving you the straight up truth," she said. I looked her up and down: gorgeous, personality plus, and, shorter than me. Damn few downsides for sure. I rubbed my chin, and gave her my hardest stare.

"Okay," I said. "I could get my head around that. Tomorrow's Saturday. Wanna go out to eat and maybe see a show or something?"

"Absolutely," she said.

"Okay then. One thing though, a question." She nodded for me to ask it.

"Won't this put a crimp in your relationship with Stephanie?"

"Don't know, don't care. She's got her jock, I guess. I've got you. He'll be pumping gas in a couple of years. You'll be wearing thousand dollar suits. I guess you'd say I'm gonna be a material girl," said Darla. I really wanted to know why she'd changed her mind so radically about my prospects. I decided to ask her.

"You know Darla, you have really surprised me here. I recall you didn't think so much of me as little as a few months ago. Why-how…?"

I talked to my dad, who knows your dad. I knew you had a part time job, but I didn't know how hard you were working to make ends meet and to get yourself in a place where you could marry Stephanie. I knew right then, after my talk with my dad, that you were a winner. Hence, this come on," she said.

"A lot can happen in four years, four collegiate years. But, date you. Oh yeah," I said. "But, anymore than that-well-we'll just have to see."

"Fair enough," said Darla.

******

Darla and I were a mismatch from the gitgo. I knew it. She for sure knew it. And yet, that said, the long and the short of it was, at first, it worked out pretty much as she said it would, sort of.

I was a major success in school finishing my B.A. in three years and my doctorate in Math in two more. I'd been wooed and signed in my junior year by Tech-Tonics Labs, and went to work for them, at age twenty-three, as a systems analyst. Oh, and they paid for my schooling. So much for my being the loser C-student that Stephanie and Darla had once branded me.

Sammy on the other hand, mister handsome, mister rich parents, and mister he for whom my girlfriend had decided to trade me in for, came to state too, on a football scholarship; and, he quickly blew out a knee and went to work for his dad selling rugs. Well, his dad did own the store; actually, he owned three of them.

But I'm getting too far afield. Getting back to me and Darla. I got my homerun, finally, on our third date, and hit several more with her thereafter. The sex was good, at least for me, and I was in hog heaven. And shock of shocks, at least to me, we got engaged; and, we began making plans. Our marriage was slated to happen in two more months. But then, the inevitable happened.

"Hi, honey. Can I have a word with you," said Darla.

"Sure baby," I said. She looked down and handed me back her engagement ring.

"Honey, I've met someone else. I don't want to hurt you, but, well… " she started. My face dropped, my heart turned cold, and I was momentarily lost.

"Oh, okay. I guess I should be glad it didn't happen after we were married, huh?" I said. I wasn't smiling.

"Honey, I'm sorry. But, you're a first rate guy. You'll meet someone else." And then she was gone.

Did I say something about things being surreal? Well, I should have. But, at least Darla didn't pretend to be something she wasn't. I wished her well. And, and in some vague way, I felt relieved. She and I should never even have dated, so I guess I came out ahead in the long run anyway.

I'd only been on the job for eight months; but now it, the job, became my surrogate woman. It wasn't that I was down on myself when it came to my lack of success with women. Hell, I was smart enough to know that I hadn't had enough experience with the fluffy gender to make an evaluation like that. No, my problem was that I just didn't care to go through another emotional situation like the one I'd had with Stephanie. Add to that my unrealistic hope for a long term relationship with a woman way out of my league, Darla; well, and I needed a break from womankind. And I got it-for about a month.

"Mister Browne, call on line one," said Melanie Stafford, my Tech-Tonics supplied secretary.

"Thank you, Melanie," I said.

"Hello, SA division, Browne" I said.

"Hello, Will," said a very familiar voice. "Got time for lunch? My treat?"

"Stephanie? Lunch? Now?" I said. I had been caught completely off guard.

"Well, yes, I mean if you can spare the time," she said. I went silent for a long moment.

"Willard? Are you still there?" she said.

"Uh-yes. Uh-okay. I guess I have time," I said.

"Denny's in ten?"

"Yes, okay. In ten minutes," I said.

She actually beat me there, and Denny's was immediately next to our building. She'd likely called from there, I thought.

I spotted her immediately, and she did look good. She was at least thirty pounds lighter than my memory of her. Hair, makeup, clothes: all different than she'd ever shown in the past. I said so. "Hello, Steph, you look very good today," I said. She smiled.

"Thanks, big guy. You look good too, very professional," she said.

"Thank you for that. So-what's the occasion," I said.

"Kinda depends," she said.

"Depends?" I said.

"Yes, on what you want to do about what I'm going to be saying here," she said.

"Depends on me? On what you're going to be saying?" I said.

"Yes, exactly," she said.?"I want you to take me to dinner this Friday night. After that I want you to take me to two Lover's Point and make out with me. I've missed you, Will."

"Huh? Uh-I seem to recall having this conversation, or one like it, more than once in times gone by, Steph, and it didn't end well," I said.

"My bad. I thought I needed something else, and I too late discovered that what I really wanted I already had; but, I'd run him off." I nodded.

Too make a short story even shorter. I picked her up at 7:00PM. We dined. We went to two lovers point. She let me pull her panties off. She turned around and leaned over the back of the back seat and waited for me to poke her. And poke her I did. God she was an easy fuck. Real loose, but fresh. Not a tight pussy like Darla's by any means. But, I did manage to get us off. Me for sure, and I thought probably her too, but I didn't have the brass to ask.

After fucking her, we made out for a good hour: me finger fucking her most of the time. I loved having my finger up a woman's twat. It was a hell of a turn on. I'd wanted to bang her one more time, but she demurred. Told me I had to save some for the next time. I smiled and gave in to her wishes.

And then we were an item once more, one more time, I told myself. What could it hurt?

******

We became a serious item after our go 'round at two lover's point. After some six months I proposed-and yes I was a little nervous about doing so. But, a number of other guys were paying attention to her-and no, not her to them-and I didn't want to risk missing out on my life with her. At any rate she said yes. No that's not right. She squealed her yes! She was happy. I was happy. Christmas was three months off and we decided to get married on Christmas Day. And we did. And then I caught a break.

Getting married was kind of a shoestring thing economically at first, but like I said I caught a break. TechTonics promoted me. I went from thirty-five grand annual to fifty. I was now supervisor of analytics and records. Lots of responsibility, lots of hours, and lots of opportunities if I could just manage to not fuck up on the job. And, anyone, who knows anything about keeping records and monitoring company spending, will tell you it's real easy to fuck up. But, the good news was that I didn't, not on the job at any rate.

The problem I had was keeping Stephanie happy sexually. And that had not been a problem until I was promoted. Then it was: the very much longer hours and the pressures of the job made it so.

"Will, you've got to do something," she said." I hardly see you anymore. Yes it's a good job and all, but Jesus don't they know you have a wife. A wife by the way that wants to have a baby at some point. You know like normal people."

"I know honey, but if we can just make through the next year or two, I have a shot at a junior VP slot. My job description is tough to find bodies for and then, after I make VP, there will be fewer hours, though it would involve travel from time to time," I said, in my most begging tone.

"Yeah, like they're going to make a man with three or four years' experience a VP of any kind junior or not," she snorted.

"The fact is they will. I have what they need. Marlon Costley all but guaranteed it, just this week," I said.

"Costley? That blowhard? He's feeding you a line of shit, Willard Browne. And, I'll tell him so if I ever get the chance," she said. I just shook my head.

Still, my long hours didn't really get in the way as much as they might have. We still made love once or twice a week. And, each time we did, I made it my business to make the experience epochal. She reciprocated.

"Jesus, that was good, Will. Now, if we could do that three or four days in a row, I'd actually be satisfied,"

"Honey girl, the time will come. I promise you. We're still young. We are in the building phase of this little marriage we've got ourselves involved with."

"Yeah, okay, stud. Just make sure you're right," she said.

Things rolled along okay for another year plus, and I did get promoted to junior VP in charge of monitoring all divisions spending and records. And, yes, Stephanie was appropriately impressed.

The job turned out to be a busy one. That was something that I had misjudged big time. And as thrilled as Stephanie had seemed to be with the extra numbers in my paycheck, she let me know that I was an idiot for not recognizing that my hours in the new position would be even worse than before.

As VP, significant purchases or expenditures of any kind landed on my desk for analysis and signature. The overall responsibility for such things was actually my boss', Marlon Costley's, not mine; but he had delegated me to handle all but a few of the largest payouts.

At any rate the pay and benefit package was excellent. I went from fifty to seventy-five annual with a bevy of improved benefits along with the raise. The biggest benefit was the profit sharing. In good years the bonuses would be really outstanding. And then there was the downside.

I went from no travel to spending two days a week on the road. It was never long travel, and was usually just overnight. But with TechTonics having thirteen branches statewide I was putting a lot of miles on my company supplied car. And, on a further downside, sex between me and Stephanie went for once or twice a week to never more than once a week. Mainly because I was draggin' virtually every day when I got home. Talk about a catch-22. Still…

I had a new job with lots of money and perks and a wife who loved me and made me feel good. And things were good, and then they were fantastic.

"Sit down, Honey," she said. I sat.

"Whatcha got, Steph?" I said.

"Honey, we're pregnant!" she screamed. Then I screamed. Then we hugged. Then we fucked. And, then we slept. I did not deserve so much good in my life, but I had it.

******

That day was some fourteen years ago. That day was roughly nine months before Amy Lee Browne was born-six pound three ounces and healthy if anyone wants to know.

At the time I was a junior VP, now I was a senior VP. And, now I have a problem. My fantastic life may be a gnat's eyelash from ruination. You had to know it right? Stephanie Browne, nee Ward is cheating on me-with my boss.

"A lot of years, huh Steph," I said. I was sitting on the piano bench across from her. She was leaning back against the door jamb looking down. She looked up.

"And a lot more to come, Will. We're only forty. We've got a lot of years ahead of us still," she said.

"Yeah, maybe, just not together," I said. I had a lot more to say to my wife, my cheating wife. But, for some damn reason I just didn't have the energy. I should've been angry, crazy with rage actually. But, I was just tired. The events of the past twenty-four hours had left me frazzled.

"Nonsense. Yes, my big secret is out. I'm humiliated and sorry and guilty and filled with remorse for what I've done to us. But, none of it, Willard, rises to the level of having to get a divorce. You love her. She loves you. He was just the sperm donor. And frankly, I'm surprised you never caught on to it before this," she said.

"You don't see it as a problem for us, especially me?" I said. "Really?"

"Of course it's a problem. But that said, not an insoluble one. And yes, really," she said.

"My source tells me that now that the genie is out of the bottle, that the asshole sperm donor wants to be more in her life than has been the case up till now," I said.

"That true?" She looked nervous now.

"He may have said something like that," she said.

"No," I said. "Not ever. And no more uncle Marlon either. He's to be cut off completely."

"Will, it's true you're her real dad, and it's also true that he was only the sperm donor. But, he's been there, around, proud of her too. Just like us," she said. "I mean all of these years."

"It's not enough that you've cheated on me and humiliated me for the past fifteen years! You're going to take his side now too?" I said. "Well, this is the way it's going to be, Stephanie. Amy gets to choose: him or me. That's it. No negotiation."

"What! She's a child. You can't make her choose," said Stephanie.

"No negotiation. None!" I said.

"Wait a minute, Will. Look, how about a compromise. How about we just leave things as they are. Amy doesn't know about any of this and she doesn't ever have to know. He'll still just be an occasional visitor, still just good 'ole uncle Marlon," prayed Stephanie.

"If that's what she wants. But, if so I will be gone. And, I don't just mean from you. I'm divorcing you anyway. I mean from here, from this town, state-forever. It's either him or me, again, no negotiation."

"Willard Browne, you can't…"

"I'm going out. I'll be back tonight. We're going to tell her then," I said. I picked up my stuff and headed out.

A bar is a wonderful place for one who needs to calm down and get a grip on reality. Five hours at the Roundup had pretty much brought me as close to getting a grip as could be. I went home.

******

I knocked. Yes, it was my house, and it felt a little strange the knocking, but this was a statement that I wanted to make. So, I made it.

"Will, why did you knock? This is your house," said Stephanie, as she answered the door.

"Is it? Was maybe," I said. "But, no more," Her look said it all-pure terror.

But then my look, seconds later, was something else: maybe extreme anger-no-hatred. "What's fuckwad doing here," I said.

"Will, we need to talk," said Marlon Costley.

"No we don't," I said. "Oh, and for the record my hatred for you will never die.

"Where's Amy, Stephanie?" I said.

"I sent her to grandma's, Will. Before we tell her, if we do; you need to talk to Marlon and me. I insist," she said.

"You fucking insist? You fucking insist! Whatever gave you the idea, that under the circumstances, that I'd give a rats ass about what you insist Stephanie my dear, faithful, loving, angelic wife. Who the fuck?" I said. I leapt for the big guy who was now standing beside her and landed three punches squarely on his face. Then he landed two on mine. That was the end of the conversation-well-with them.

The two of them sat in the waiting room waiting for word from the doctor.

"You hit him too hard, Marlon. Way too hard. You outweigh the guy by a hundred pounds; he had no chance," said Stephanie.

"Steph hit me half a dozen times before I retaliated," said Marlon.

"Three times, Marlon, not a half dozen; I was there. And yes he hit you with everything he had. I saw that too. But you could have held back a little something. He's hurt bad, Marlon," said Stephanie. "What did the cops say to you just now?"

"Not much. Your statement pretty much put an end to their questions," he said.

"Missus Browne?" said the man in white with the stethoscope around his neck.

"Yes," she said, standing and going to the man.

"Your husband will be okay. He does have a concussion. Gonna keep him here for a day or so, just to be safe. You can go in and see him now if you wish," he said.

"Marlon, I'll be back in a few minutes. Maybe sooner if he has me thrown out," she said, half smiling.

"Mom! Uncle Marlon?" said the teenager striding in.

"Amy!" How…"

"Grandma Browne drove me. She'll be up in a minute; she's parking. Missus Williams next door saw the ambulance and called me on my cell," said Amy. Her mother nodded.

"Well, wait here. I'm going in to see your dad. I'll be back as soon as I can. Okay?" her daughter nodded.

******

Jesus my head hurt. I mean it really hurt. I thought that they gave pain meds to sufferers like me.

I saw her walk in and my mood darkened.

"You going to throw me out?" she said.

"What are you here for? You gonna finish what your boyfriend started?" I said. She ignored me.

"Whatever you think, Will, I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you. And, for what it's worth, Marlon got both barrels from me for what he did to you," she said.

"Which begs the question, what are you here for?" I repeated.

"To see that you're okay, of course.

"Look, Will, you've got to calm down and talk to me if not Marlon. And, you really need to talk to him too. Yes, he's an asshole, and so am I. Granted. Now, talk to us, the assholes. We all need to get on with things-with our lives-and yes Amy will figure in the mix with all of us. For God's sake, Will, lighten up so we can get some things understood if not actually all problems solved," she said.

"Against my better judgment, Stephanie Ward, or should I say Costley, I will talk to the man, and to you. But it's a done deal that I will never forgive you. Fucking never!" I all but screamed.

"Costley! He's not my husband you are. Get that. He will never be my husband. Never. Why? Because I don't love him. His cock, yes, but his cock has no personality. It's just a very nice dildo. I wish I could get you to understand that. We women always have a lot of trouble making you men understand where we're coming from. Cocks are important to us-for two hours a week, mister Browne! The other hundred and sixty-six hours they aren't."

I could see she was frustrated. Problem was the hurt, the unimaginable hurt she'd put on me was not even vaguely understood by her. I decided to say so now.

"So, what if I did make an effort to understand where you, and women generally, are coming from. What if I did? When will it be, do you think, that you will begin to understand the depth of hurt that you've done to me!" I said.

"As to that, Will, I'm already beginning to, and it scares me," she said. "Changing the subject. Amy's here, and your mom. I know they're wanting to see you. I'll send them in. You and I will talk some more tomorrow, or whenever they release you. Your choice. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay," I said. "Wait." She stopped and turned toward me. "Send Costley in if they'll let him. I wanna talk to him." She looked dubious.

"Don't worry, I'm in no condition to attack him." I wasn't smiling. She nodded, but it was a tentative nod.

*******

It was no more than two minutes later when his hulking form darkened my door. I looked at him: six-foot-six, two-hundred and sixty pounds: he filled the damn door. He came a few feet closer to me, but not too close. I smiled at that.

"What? Afraid of me, asshole?" I said. I actually did smile then.

"Look, Will, if you have something to say, I'll listen; but, if all you're going to do is call me names, I'm going to be leaving. Which is it?"

"Have a seat," I said, nodding toward the chair a couple of feet from my bed.

"Fifteen years of cuckolding me? Not even an apology? Fathering my daughter, and not even an apology? No doubt laughing your ass off about this poor excuse of a man for all of those years, and not even an apology?

"I'll tell yuh, Marlon Costley, I don't know whether to hate you like no one has ever been hated before or pity you for being such a low life. I really don't know which," I said.

"Okay, okay, Will, you're right. I am sorry, very sorry," he said. "But, just to keep things straight with you; I never laughed at you."

"Well, and we only have your word of honor for that don't we. Kind of weak evidence if you don't mind my saying so.

"Truth, mister Costley, are you going to continue fucking her?" I said.

"You going to divorce her? If so I'm going to marry her-if she'll have me," he said. "For the record I have loved her all of these years, actually from the first moment I ever saw her. So did I laugh at you? Hell no, I envied you, Will. And that is the truth." I nodded.

"And if I don't divorce her?" I said.

"Probably. It'll be up to her. I really don't want to think about ever being without her, I mean since you ask," he said.

"Then you may as well have her. I'll divorce her. I'm done being her cuckold-and yours," I said. His turn to nod.

"Look, about Amy… " he started.

"That's a whole different matter. You stay the hell away from her," I said.

"Will, you've got to lighten up on that. I love the kid too. There, I've said it. Deal with it," he said.

"Deal with it? Did you say deal with it! Oh, I'm going to deal with it. If she chooses to let you be part of her life, she loses me forever. That's the deal. No negotiation. I've already made that plenty clear to the whore-your future wife," I said. He was worried now. His face said it all.

"Will, please… " he started.

"Nope, not a chance in hell," I said. I was feeling pretty good. I figured that there was zero chance of Amy choosing him. Yes, he'd been around our house some over the years, had good 'ole uncle Marlon, but I'd been her daddy. Day and night I'd been her daddy, not him. And, I damn sure intended to remain so. Custody is what I was after. I wanted sole custody.

I was hoping, I guess I was hoping, that my stand would keep Stephanie from marrying the asshole. She might continue fucking him, but if she thought that I would cause a major set-to with Amy because of it, she might not actually marry him. What I was afraid of was, that if he moved in with the whore, that they would poison Amy against me. She was a smart kid, but smart enough to overcome a concerted hate campaign on the part of the two adulterers? I didn't want to find out.

******

The visit with my mom and Amy was tentative and scary. They asked what had happened and I just said it was an accident and didn't want to talk about it. They accepted that for the moment opting to apply some TLC instead. They clearly had no clue about how or why I'd gotten into the position I was in. I wondered how long the mystery would last. The immediate question, for me at least, was should I tell them or not. For the moment I didn't, and I don't know why I didn't.

When they left, I thought that I would be left alone with my thoughts-and my pain. The irony in that? The fact that my talks with the bunch of them had helped me to forget my pain for the moment. But, in any event, I was not left alone. My wife returned for a final word.

"Thank you for not telling Amy about what happened. It means a lot," she said. "And for talking to Marlon. And, yes, he'll be telling me about what you told him later on. I won't try to kid you about that."

"How fucking wonderful that you two have such good communications. One thing I assured him of was the fact that I will not accept him being in Amy's life at all. I hope you're getting that because, again, it's non-negotiable." I said.

"Willard, you being so intractable is forcing me to do something I do not want to do. I am going to divorce you and demand custody. And, I am pretty sure, that Marlon as her 'real' father, will make it easier for me to limit your access to Amy. Yes, she'll cry and carry on for a while. But, I'm guessing, that over time, you will be relegated to the background. So, big guy, go ahead and be an asshole. You're not going to win, not in the long run," she said.

I smiled. "Her real father? That pretty much says it all, doesn't it, Stephanie. I love it. I mean you showing your true colors. Go ahead. I've got a few cards to play, and I will, Stephanie. Oh indeed I will," I said.

"Will, I didn't mean…"

"Fuck you, bitch, get out!" The nurses, three of them, suddenly appeared and shooed her the hell away from me.

******

She wasted no time. I was released from the hospital three days later. I had thought that I would only have had to stay overnight, but evidently the doctor thought better of it. At any rate, I was no more than out the doors of the place when a man walked up to me, asked me my name, and handed me the "you've been served" papers.

She was true to her word. She went for sole custody with once a month visitation being all I was to be allowed. My hatred just went up a notch. Ironically, she didn't ask for either child support or alimony, just custody and the house.

I told Clyde Jensen, my lawyer to go to war. He actually rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

******

It was but six weeks later that the hearing was held. I'd only been allowed to visit, but not take home to my new apartment, my daughter even once during that time. The whore was doing her damnedest.

I had of course quit my job. I was now working for Benedict and Son's, a rival firm. I was no longer a VP, but I was making roughly the same salary, though profit sharing was no longer in the mix. I was still young enough to climb the corporate ladder; I had every intention of doing so too.

"Mister Browne, is it true that you are adamantly maintaining that if mister Costley, Amy's biological father, wishes to have a role in Amy's life, that you won't have anything to do with Amy. That you will unilaterally cut yourself off from her?" said the judge.

"Yes, but there are reasons for my stand, your honor," I said.

"This is a hearing mister Browne, not a trial per se. I am going to let you state your reasons. But, I have to tell you; they're going to have to be real good ones to help your case," he said.

"They are your honor," I said.

I stood, and looked over at my soon to be ex. "It is not contested that mister Costley, my now ex-boss, in concert with my wife cuckolded me fathering my child, and as far as I'm concerned, your honor, Amy is my child and not his. Nor was that enough for the two of them. For the past fourteen years they have continued in their adultery humiliating me and cheating me out of my rightful place in our home.

"I found out about my wife's betrayal of me by accident when a mutual friend, happened to notice that Amy looked more like him than she did me. It got me to wondering if I'd been wrong about good 'ole uncle Marlon. One thing led to another, and eventually my wife admitted her perfidy. You can imagine how I reacted.

"Objection, your honor to mister Browne's characterizations of his wife and mister Costley?" said their lawyer

"Overruled for now," said the judge.

"What put an end to my marriage though wasn't Costley's long string of liaisons with my wife. It was the fact that since his actions, their actions, were now out in the open that mister Costley wanted, expected, to have a more active relationship with, how did he put, with 'his'daughter!" I said. "Nor was that all. I was told by my wife that they fully intended to keep on with their illicit liaisons whether I liked it or not.

"It was then that I told her that the marriage was over, and that as far as him being around Amy more than he had been in the past that I would not tolerate it. Rather, as I informed the adulteress, Amy would get to choose between him and me.

"One upshot of it all was the fact that I lost it when he appeared in my house to tell me what they were going to do, again whether I liked it or not. I punched the man three times; then he put me in the hospital. While there, my wife let it be known that since I was being so stubborn, that she would divorce me and cut me off to the extent possible from Amy. And, so here we are, your honor." I sat down.

"Do your clients have anything to say?" mister Jones-their lawyer.

"No, your honor," said mister Jones.

"Mister Browne, I can understand your feelings here. But, adultery is not a crime in this state. My job is, to the extent possible, is to see to the interests of the child.

"You are within your rights to take this matter to trial. But, I can tell you on the face of it that you will not be getting what you seem to most want: the complete separation of mister Costley from Amy. He has a right to see her. And, I am ruling that so do you. I am going to recommend that you lay aside your anger and accept what I am about to propose and plan to enforce.

"Mister Browne, you deserve and you will have unrestricted visitation of your daughter, and she is your daughter for the purpose of this decision, as she is also mister Costley's. You are going to have her every other weekend, and summers. Your wife will have primary custody during the school year. Holidays to be split between you and your wife on a rotating basis. I am empowered to grant the divorce on those bases now, without the expense or necessity of a trail, if both parties agree," he said.

"We accept your proposal, your honor," said mister Jones for his clients.

"We do not," said mister Jensen for me. I looked over at the two of them. Stephanie spoke.

"Willard, be reasonable! Please," she said.

"Not a chance in hell!" I said. "He may not be part of her life; he doesn't deserve to be; and, neither do you if it comes to that."

The gavel sounded and a trial date was set for the following month.

******

I headed for the Roundup, I was on my third Vodka on the rocks when she took the stool next to mine.

"Are we really going to have to go through all this, Will. Are we really going to have to get down in the dirt and fight it out?" she said, without preamble, or so much as hello.

"And hello to you too, soon to be ex-wife," I said.

"Will, this is crazy. It doesn't have to be this way. In the best of all possible worlds we go back to the way things were before-well-before all of this craziness," she said.

"You mean before I found out that I had been your cuckold for the past fifteen years, and with years more of the same in my future. Right? Is that what you mean?" I said.

"Will, give me this. I will make it right by you. I swear," she said.

"How?" I said.

"How what?" she said.

"How would you make it right by me," I said.

"Well, you know, like…"

"You'd spread for me. Make the sex really good. Something like that?" I said.

"Well…"

"No sloppy seconds right. And I get more than Costley. Right?" I said.

"Well yes, definitely no sloppy seconds. And you always did get more than him," she said.

"And that would continue, I mean me getting more than him," I said.

"Okay, yes, of course," she said.

"No!" I said. She started to cry.

"But, don't you see. This could be good for us. You as well as me," she said.

"There are only two ways that I would consider getting back with you," I said.

"Two ways?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"My favorite, get rid of Costley for good and become my faithful and loving wife. By that I mean, he's cut off, out in the cold, never to see my daughter or my wife again for any reason," I said.

"And, option two?" she said.

"For you to figure out a way to make it up to me for everything you and he have done to me over these many years," I said.

"But-how-can I do that?" she said.

"Exactly, Stephanie. Over the years you've done some pretty rotten things to me. But, nothing you ever did in high school or college even vaguely approaches the level of betrayal your actions of the past fifteen years have done to my heart and soul. But, you let me know if you think of a way to do it, I mean make it up to me," I said.

"Will, I know I've been a bum when it comes to how I've treated you, I mean in some ways. But there has never been a time that I didn't love you more than anything or anyone, including Marlon.

"He has bedroom skills that really do things to me that are impossible to match-or explain. I can't give him up. But, if you had a brain in your head, you'd let me play with him on the side and you be my husband the other ninety percent of the time. I know that I can make it up to you if you'd let me. It would take time, but I could do it," she said.

"But in the meantime that evil man would be playing up to my daughter. Making himself her number one dad instead of me. Right, Steph?" I said.

"My God no! Is that what all of this is about? I'll say it again, my God no!" she said. I smiled.

"Right," I said, about as sarcastically as I ever said anything.

"Oh my, you feel threatened by him. I see it now. I didn't before, but I do now," she said.

"Will, I would never let him or anyone else do that to you. Never!"

"Where is he right now?" I said.

"Well, at home," she said.

"My home, I mean what used to be my home?" I said.

"Well, yes."

"And Amy?" I said.

"Well at home too," she said.

"What if I said, okay to sharing you with the asshole, and that I would come home and we'd quash the divorce and get on with things as though nothing had happened," I said. "You know, take you up on your offer to make it up to me?"

"Oh my, that would make me the happiest woman in this town," she said.

"Okay, you wanted me to compromise; well, you did early on in all of this. So, just now I have decided to do just that," I said. "I mean if you still want."

"I do. What? When?" she said. I smiled. I had a plan; it'd hit me while she was still spieling her spiel. It might backfire, but if it worked out that would most definitely be an 'Oh my' situation.

"Now," I said. "Call him and tell him he has two hours to get all of his stuff out of our house. I will be sleeping with you tonight, not him. I realize that you will be fucking him too, just not tonight, and not in my house not ever there. Okay?" I said.

"But… " she started. I raised my eyebrows.

"This isn't just a get even with me trick?" she said.

"No, do what I ask here, and you and I are good. Truthfully, not him and me. But, I will be your willing cuckold. I won't kid you; I won't like it. But, I will do my best to deal with it. Just keep him away from me. Put another way don't rub my nose in it. It's going to be humiliating enough just to know it's going on. But, if you do what I am asking of you tonight, I promise to not say one word about any of this ever again," I said. She gave me a look.

"Okay," she said. She stood walked a few feet away from me and called him. I could see she was arguing with him. She kept it low key, but she was arguing with him." She hung up.

"I should go home and get ready for you," she tried.

"I would prefer that you stayed here with me. You can call him tomorrow. Tell him I'm being an asshole. Maybe getting a little payback for what he's done to me," I said. "Just remember, never in my house. It's little enough." She nodded.

"Okay, Will, I guess you are entitled to a little payback as you say. I'm just hoping that when all is said and done that we can find a happy medium and get by all of this," she said.

******

He was gone and the bedroom, our old room was cleaned and that recently. Like in the past hour. It had to have been Amy, I thought.

"Daddy-daddy-daddy!" screamed Amy. She was crying. I blamed myself for that.

"Hello, baby," I said. "Everything's going to be all right. Okay?" She nodded, wiping the tears from her beautiful face.

Stephanie was standing in the kitchen doorway. She was smiling, but it was a smile with a question in it. What the question was you'd had to have to have asked her, but that's what it was.

"Like something to eat, Will? A drink?" she said.

"Maybe a glass of wine," I said. She smiled again, but this time it was a smile of relief.

We all sat at the table talking when the subject came up.

"Dad, are you okay? I mean the hospital before and everything?" she said. I wondered how much she knew or suspected.

"I'm fine, baby," I said. Stephanie looked worried. I had to surmise that Amy still didn't know that it was good 'ole uncle Marlon that fucked me up. But whatever, it wasn't in my interest to let the cat out of the bag. Sooner or later it would get out, but not by me.

******

"Yes, it was payback. He could've waited a day or two to make it easy; but it's hard to fault him. I mean we have screwed the guy over for years. The true fact that none of what we did was ever a threat to him notwithstanding," said Stephanie.

"Yeah, well it was childish anyway, and very embarrassing. Did he notice that the bedroom was cleaned and straightened up?" said Marlon Costley.

"That was you? Yes, he-we-noticed. We thought it was Amy did that." she said.

"Yes, I wanted to show him that at least one of us could act like an adult. Took me damn near an hour too," he said. She giggled.

"Nice," she said, now she was laughing. "Now, take off your pants." He did as she told him.

"Nice," she said again. Naked, he leaned in to kiss her. She let him.

"He had me last night. I was thinking about bringing you some day old sloppy seconds," she said. But, after your 'embarrassment' I decided to douche. So you get a clean me." She giggled.

"Well, fucking wonderful. A clean woman is always a good deal," he said. He loomed above her, guided his cock to her slit and pushed inside of her.

"Ugh!" she said. "Slower, you're too big to push inside of me like that."

"What's the matter, hubby can't stretch you a little? Can't at least get you ready for me?" he said.

"Don't be nasty, Marlon. At least he isn't standing in our way anymore," she said. But, he was ignoring her as he speeded up doing her. She was moaning and groaning. He stiffened and shuddered and unloaded his semen inside of her. He collapsed on top of her, rolled off and caught his breath.

"You should give him my sloppies," he said. And, now he laughed.

"Oh yeah, and have all of this revert back to square one. Not a chance," she said.

"Anyway, what about seeing my daughter. Is he going to be trying to stop me?" he said.

"No, not exactly. You can see her, just not at the house. That's the one requirement he's adamant about. But, again, the answer to your question is yes, no problem with you seeing her," she said. He nodded, but he was having dark thoughts.

******

No one had actually told her, but Amy had figured out that Costley was her sperm donor. How did I know that? It was the third night back home. Stephanie was actually out fucking him and cuckolding me. Amy could see that I was down. I was watching television. Well, not really: I was in front of it, and it was on, but watching it would have been a huge exaggeration.

"Daddy? You okay?" she said.

"Sure baby. I'm okay. Why do you ask?" I said.

"I know what's going on daddy; well, some of it anyway. I know that 'uncle Marlon is my biological dad," she said. My look must have been something; I couldn't really say what.

"Grandma and I figured it out that day in the hospital. It was lots of little things. But, dad, biology does not make a dad. You're my dad my only dad," she said. I started crying. She wrapped her arms around me. A Helluva thing a man needing to be comforted by his baby. One monster Helluva thing!

We didn't talk much. What was there to say. What was not discussed was my wife's liaisons with her big cock. That was something that would come up the following Friday night. My not very smart wife all but telegraphed it to Amy.

******

I watched as she got ready for her date. "You look good enough to eat," I said. She gave me a look. "Would I be out of line to ask if I could knock off a piece before your date with him?" I guess I was being a little sarcastic, but she just sighed, essentially ignoring me and continued getting ready.

"No, I guess not," I said. "I'm only your husband." I got another look.

"When I get home, or if you prefer in the morning. I will make you forget your disappointment of missing out at the moment," she said. She was smiling. I think she thought that she was being-what-fair or maybe consoling.

"Uh-huh," I said. I headed downstairs. I was going to drink and drink hearty.

She came down ten minutes after me. I was in the den getting ready for a serious drunk. Amy was in the front room reading.

"Mom! You look gorgeous!" said Amy.

"Uh-oh-thank you, honey," said the whore. Amy was all smiles.

"You and dad going out?" she said. She sounded excited for us.

"Uh-no. Just me tonight… " Amy lost her smile.

"No?" said Amy interrupting. "But, you look like…"

"I have a business meeting," she said. I'd heard what was going on and had come into the kitchen. I was leaning on the door jamb watching the two f them.

"Goodnight, dear," I said cheerfully. Suddenly, the whore looked unsure of her decision. But, she gathered herself.

"I'll be back soon," she said. She came to me and planted a kiss on my cheek. "I'll be in early, promise." And, then she was gone.

The two of us, Amy and me, were alone.

"Daddy? Mom doesn't have a meeting does she?" said Amy. I just smiled and raised my glass to the front door, where I'm sure my wife's aura still floated in the air.

"Daddy?" said Amy.

"I guess she does, honey. She said so," I said.

"No, wait! She's going to see uncle Marlon, isn't she?" I remained silent. "That's-that's-that's why he was here when you moved out. He's my bio dad and he was-something. He was here-he was going to-wanted to…"

"You think too much, Amy," I said.

"Daddy, he wanted to take your place didn't he? He actually wanted to live here with mom and me. I mean not just to comfort us like before, I mean after you left like he said. He wanted you gone, didn't he? He wants mom? Right?" I was still silent as she pretty much dissected the whole schmear.

"Honey, your mom and I have made a deal. It's okay. I'm handling it. Really," I said. She looked dubious.

"Daddy! The hell you are! You were afraid mom would get custody, Right?" she said. Now, I was the one not smiling, not that I had been.

"You're not in the mix here," I said. "I do not want you confronting your mom. What she's doing, what I'm doing, is our business not yours. Well, it is, but not in the way that you are thinking. As far as the other man is concerned, he is your biological dad, and he does have feelings for you. And no, I don't like it," I said.

"Daddy, I don't know if you and mom can fix what's going on between you, but I sure as hell can fix what's going on between them and me. Dad, I want you to move out! And, I mean tonight," she said. The shock that absolutely came over me must have been something because my daughter began to laugh, hysterically.

"What? What are you saying, Amy? You want to stay with him, be his daughter. Did I miss something?" I said.

"Like that's ever going to happen. No, What I want to do is ruin it for them. And, I can. He wants me too?" she said. My look of horror stopped her.

"What the fuck!" I said.

"Don't worry dad. He's in for a major disappointment. I am absolutely going to make his life, and their sex life a hurricane of shit!" she said.

"You can't do anything that will make any difference, Amy. But I sure as hell can keep him from coming on to you. Oh yeah, I can do that!

"You're too young to go against him, or them. If you were a few years older; well, maybe then it would be possible. But, you are too young to withstand the pressures that the two of them will put on you. I have my own plan. I want to give it a try. I need you to not do anything to submarine me. Okay?" I said.

"No, not okay. You sitting around here suffering, and I know you are, ain't gonna be happening, daddy. Me watching you go nuts every time she dresses like she did tonight for another man-any other man-would drive me crazy if not you! I may only be fourteen, almost fifteen, dad, but I am not the village idiot. Actually you are for putting up with this in the first place.

"This is what I think we need to do," she said. And she proceeded to lay out her plan to me. For the life of me, I thought it just might work too. In the end with a couple of minor adjustments I insisted upon, I agreed to try it her way. The adjustments would ensure that at least there would be minimal damage to her relationship with her mother and her.

I was packed and gone within an hour. I had given Amy my micro-recorder. I wanted to know how the whore was going to react to me going missing.

******

AMY:

I was asleep on the couch when she came in. She'd promised to be home early. Well, she'd kept her word. Two-thirty in the morning was definitely early-in the morning.

"Amy," she said to me, waking me up.

"Yeah, mom?" I said.

"Why aren't you in bed," said mom.

"I was waiting up for you, mom. Dad's gone. He mumbled something about not being able to do it, whatever 'it' was, and he left," I said.

"Jesus," said mom. "He's not here! He and I had a deal. Damn him!" I watched her as she headed upstairs.

I followed her up, but not until she's closed her bedroom door. I couldn't hear anything, but if the recorder dad had given me worked like he said it would we'd, I'd, know it all by morning. That is, if she used the phone in the bedroom to call him, uncle Marlon.

******

"Yeah, it's me. And yes it's important or I wouldn't be calling," she said. "He's left me-again… Yes, I know it's crazy. He's crazy. I had a bad feeling when I left. He was turned on and wanted to rip off a piece right then… No, no, I put him off. Told him he'd have to wait till I got home. I guess that was the wrong thing to say… No, no, I'm going to bed, and no you're not coming over. Not until I figure out what I'm going to do," said mom… "Okay, tomorrow," she hung up

Well, that told me all I needed to know. Dad would be worried, silly; they weren't going to do anything to me. I'd exaggerated to dad about uncle Marlon being after me, though I had gotten some looks. But regardless, I'd had to get dad out of the house, so I could go to work trying to get mom back with him, save my family. It might be a pipe dream, but I wasn't going to just sit around and let everything happen to me. Oh no. And, mister sperm donor Marlon Costley, asshole though he was turning out to be, was in a sense my dad too. Problem for me was that my mother was as bad as he was, so how could I blame just him? I couldn't and neither could dad, not fairly. No, I had to get everybody back on track.

Marlon Costley was going to become a real uncle in practical terms and without him getting his big fat cock into my mom's cunt anymore. Mom was going to be a faithful, loving wife and happy with daddy. And, dad? Oh that was going to be the real problem; and, maybe the insoluble one. I knew he had a plan; he said so. I figured he wanted to kill uncle Marlon and have mom sent to a Cistercian convent, so that she could spend the rest of his life crying her eyes out. Oh yeah, I had a mission, and it had to work out. It just had to!

******

Okay: seedy motel room, a TV with more snow than central Minnesota in February, and a plethora of loneliness. Hell yes, my situation was improving. At least I wasn't faced with my wife looking like a million bucks getting ready for a date with another man. That was a plus-right? I looked over at the little end table where my cell was ringing. I picked up.

"Hi daddy," she said.

"Hi baby. What's going on?" I said.

"You were right, dad. The little recorder you gave me got some stuff on it. She did call him after I told her you'd gone," she said.

"Yeah well, she didn't even try to call me. I guess that tells me pretty much where her priorities are," I said.

"I'm not so sure about that, daddy. She mostly complained to him about you leaving. Told him he couldn't just pop in to be with her. She told him they had to be real careful. Said she told you that you had to wait to get you know what," said Amy. "Said she shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah well she did. Water under the bridge, I guess.

"How about you? Is the asshole coming on to you? That is one thing I want to know about real quick if he does. I've already alerted my law dog that he might have to intervene real fast and real hard if he tries. My lawyer is just waiting for a word from me," I said.

"No, not yet. Don't worry about that. He's afraid of mom. He won't try anything for now," said Amy. I will let you know if he does though."

"Okay, but I do not feel good about this. You be careful and lock your door at night. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, daddy," she said.

"Dad, I think that mom does love you still. She not acting like it, or at least not enough like it, but I think she does," said Amy.

"Yeah maybe, but like you said, it's not enough. But I have a question. What time did she get in?" I said. I waited a long few seconds for her to respond.

"Not sure. Pretty late, but I didn't check the time," she said. I could tell by her tone that she was lying, but I figured that was to make me feel a little better. Well, that was my baby.

******

The bar was closing and the barkeep had already announced for last call. She flounced down on the stool next to mine.

"Darla!" I said.

"Yes, it's me. Been a while huh, sport," she said. "Got a call from my old gal friend: last week and again tonight. Seems she's kinda in the dumps."

"Really," I said. "Well, that's one thing we have in common, I guess. Oh, and she hasn't tried to call me.

"You're looking good, Darla. But, then you always did. Married?"

"Not anymore. Divorced him two years ago. He wasn't happy with me gaining eleven pounds and found some chickee that suited him a little better," she said.

"He's crazy. You look great," I said. And, she did.

"You lookin' to hook with someone new, or you gonna just mope your way through life," she said.

"Maybe sooner or later. But right now? No, not really. Why you in the market for a slightly used ex-boyfriend," I said.

"Maybe," she said. We continued to verbally spar two drinks worth.

I don't really remember how we got there, but we ended up at her place: a nice two bedroom condo not far from the bar.

I lay beside her now naked. She, her breasts still heaving from the exertion; she did have sensational titties. I watched her from the corner of my eyes.

"You going to try with her again?" said Darla.

"I am trying. But, if the question is, do I think we can make it over the long haul, I'd have to say it's more than doubtful," I said.

"Too bad, you have such a-what-colorful history together.

"Will, I'm gonna take a flyer here. Would you like me to interfere here? I mean run interference for you. Help get the two of you get back on track?" she said.

"Huh! What! I just got done fucking you for goodnesssakes. I know my skills aren't the 'bestest,' as they say, but you're still breathing hard. Doesn't that say something?" I said.

She laughed. "Actually, it doesn't. You're not terrible in bed, but you are lacking, Will. Well, in follow-through and stamina anyway," she said.

"And dick size, right?" I said. She laughed again.

"Well, you're not exactly intimidating, but you're not that small. I've had smaller when we were all in school. No, actually, you are trainable. I don't know why Steph hasn't done her duty there. But, Will, you still haven't answered my question," she said.

"I don't know, Darla. I guess I could use the help. I just don't think it would be of much use. I'm getting to the point where I'm beginning to believe that there isn't much point anymore," I said. "Hell anyone else would have written finis into the script long before this. I guess I'm just a big assed pussy."

"Hmm, despairing are we. I thought you were tougher than that. You were in the old days," she said.

"Yeah, well I'm older now and if not wiser at least more realistic," I said.

"Try cynical," she said.

"Yeah, that too," I said.

"Okay, then it's settled. I will give it the old college try. Keep your cell phone powered up," she said.

And, my ex-girlfriend did give it the old college try; but not for any reason of wanting to help me. But, I am getting ahead of myself.

******

"Yes, I had him, and why not, he's a good man. He makes a decent living, and he can take care of me after he divorces you," said Darla.

"What the fuck! You'd take him away from me! We're friends. Or we were friends, Darla. I can't believe you'd pull something like that," said Stephanie.

"Why not, you're doing it to him. He's not allowed to have some strange on the side!" said Darla. Stephanie gave her a look.

"That's different. I don't love Marlon. I just use him," said Stephanie.

"Does your husband know that, or, knowing it believe it, or, believing give a good goddamn?" said Darla.

"Well, he should. I've told him often enough," she said.

"Oh yeah, that'd do it: you telling him. But, let me ask you. Have you rubbed his nose in it?" said Darla.

"Well-not on purpose," said Stephanie.

"Which means you have," said Darla.

"I let him see me all dolled up for Marlon. It backfired on me big time. Even Amy got in on the act. It's taken me days to get her to even talk to me in a civilized tone," said Stephanie. Her friend nodded.

"Sounds like you need a new game plan, girl," said Darla.

"Yeah maybe," said Stephanie, "one to protect him from you!"

"Don't worry. He still loves you. But, I'm telling you this. If the time comes when he stops loving you, he's gonna be mine. But, again, until then, I'm on your side," said Darla. Stephanie nodded.

"What can I do, Darla? I need to get my man back."

"Well, there is the obvious," said Darla.

"I just can't. So, besides giving up Marlon, and what he does for me, what other option do I have?" she said.

"There is only one other option. Make life so fucking wonderful for your husband that he won't mind you sneaking off to meet his cockmanship," said Darla.

"Yeah, well, that might be an option if he were around, but he's not," said Stephanie.

"I think I can fix that for you. I mean get him back into the house. But, it'll put the boff on you ever rubbing his nose in it again even by accident," said Darla.

"And, you could accomplish that miracle just how may I ask," said Stephanie. Her friend smiled indulgently at her.

He'll be back here looking for you and a ton of TLC by day after tomorrow," she said.

******

As far as I was concerned she still looked like the cheerleader she was in her teens. The few extra pounds she carried enhanced rather than detracted from her appeal. I wasn't under any illusions that she was ever going to be mine-I mean really mine-but she and I had a sometime history, and I knew for sure, that however long her interest might last, it would be worth the effort on my part.

I watched the back of the place waiting for her to return from the restroom. She smiled at me as she turned the corner from the hall and headed toward our table.

I stood as she took her seat. "Such a gentleman," she said. I smiled my response.

"So why are we were, again?" I said. "It has to be something to do with your friend Stephanie, right?" She smirked.

"Can't fool you, Will. But my friend? Not your wife?" I gave her a look. She let out a long sigh. "She wants you back, Will. She knows she was in the wrong rubbing your nose in her activities like she did. You weren't there to hear it of course, but she's apologized to you a hundred times in recent days-to me that is and to herself," said Darla.

"Yeah, well, as you say, I wasn't there to hear it. So since it's a practical truism that trees that fall in woods make no noise unless heard by someone, she's made no apology either since I didn't hear it," I said.

"You need to give her another chance," she said. "You need to go back."

"Why? Because she's maybe sorry she went overboard with her antics? I don't think so," I said.

"Yes, for that reason; and, because you are madly in love with the woman. You might even catch her in a state of mind where she might be willing to give up the other guy. Can't guarantee it, but it is possible. She's changed, Will; or, maybe it would be more accurate to say that she's in the midst of changing," said Darla.

"Yeah, like that's likely," I said. Her turn to give me a look.

"Tell you what," she said. "You go back. Give her the chance to do the metamorphosis thing. She changes, you win. She doesn't-even though you can never really deserve it-you get me as a consolation prize; and, I mean for life. How's that for an incentive." It wasn't a question.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. You're saying that if things don't work out between Steph and me, that you'd marry me? Is that what I'm hearing here?" I said.

"You got it," she said. I looked at her like she had two heads.

"Not that your offer isn't tempting because believe me it is; but why would I believe you'd do me any different than you did under similar circumstances years ago," I said.

She sighed. "Simple, dumbo, we're all a bit older. And, while we are far from over the hill, it's time to get ourselves into our adult modes. You know: settle down and all that." I could see it in her eyes: she was telling the truth. The woman wanted me. She wasn't willing to doublecross her lifetime friend to get me, but there was precious little doubt that she did want me. I wondered what Amy might think of her offer-or her for that matter.

"You're serious?" I said, and that was a question. I was nodding, very slowly, but I was nodding.

"Darla, the truth is that I have always had a thing for you. Hell, half our graduation class did-the male half. And, you're right: I don't deserve you. And, you are also right that I still love Stephanie, at least on some level in spite of all of the rotten stuff she's piled on me over all of these years.

"Okay, I'll go back and try. But, if you're wrong about how she's looking at things, about her willingness to change; well, don't be surprised if you see me coming up the walk to your house right soon," I said.

"Willard Browne, I hope you and Steph can make it work; too much investment in each other to just throw it all away; but, I will be waiting in the wings just in case," she said. I nodded, rose, and walked out. I had to get my head on straight for the final attempt to win the game. But, then again, did I even want to win, win Stephanie? That was the sixty-four dollar question.

******

I was angry, angry at myself. I had parked on the street directly in front of what used to be my house. I was making no attempt to go up to the door. I was in fact leaning back against my car door, and just waiting. Waiting for what? Maybe for her to see me and come get me. Maybe for Amy to see me. Something, but of what I wasn't totally sure. Finally the door opened; it was her.

"Willard?" she said. "It was shadowy, but not that shadowy; she could see it was me. I didn't say anything. I just kept standing there, leaning back against the car door.

Leaving the door open behind her, she came down the walkway toward me. She stopped maybe ten feet away. "Willard?" I nodded. I still hadn't said anything. She turned and looked back toward the house. Right then I knew: he was in there. He was in there with my baby.

"Get him outta there. Get him outta there and away from my baby. Do it, and we'll talk. Otherwise, I'm outta here," I said.

"Will, please, let me go somewhere with you. The IHOP. We can talk there. Okay?" she said. I smirked, but my bitterness was clearly evident; I was sure of that.

"Fuck him and you too for that matter," I said. I headed for the driver's side of the car intending just get in and leave, but she beat me there, and then she did something that caught me completely by surprise. She punched me in the mouth-hard! I reeled back from the shock of it more than from the force, and there was plenty of force in the mix too.

"Shit!" I muttered as I tasted the blood that was no streaming from my oral orifice.

"Willard, no more running off. We have to talk. If you don't want to go somewhere else, then we'll do it here; but I'm not kicking him out again just to salve your ego. Come on. Let's go inside," she said.

I couldn't admit it to her, but she'd stung me. I heard what she was saying, but I was having a time reacting to it. "I ran into Darla. She said you had some maybe positive things to say to me. If this is as positive as it gets, we have nothing to say to each other, Stephanie. You've been fucking me over since high school. I'm pretty much done with you," I said.

"I'm sorry for punching you, Will. I guess I was a little frustrated. And, rubbing your nose in it that last time: Jesus that was a stupid mistake on my part. At the time; I was thinking it was kind of-trying to get you used to seeing me like that. You know, so we wouldn't be having problems down the line. Bad idea, I guess," she said.

"Do yuh think?" I said. She smirked. "Come on, let's go inside. Okay?" I followed her as she turned and headed back up the walkway.

******

He was standing in the middle of the front room. "Hello, Willard," he said. I just stared at him. This wasn't going to work, but then he surprised me.

"Uh-Steph, I think I'll be going out for a while. You two need to talk. Call me when you're done," he said. He grabbed his coat and was out the door. My wife gave me a look that was accusatory.

"Wasn't that nice of him?" she said finally.

"Nice? Convenient maybe," I said. That got me another look.

"So why am I here, Stephanie," I said.

"You and I had a deal, Will, and all of a sudden we didn't. Amy said…"

"Leave Amy out of this. And as to that, where is she?" I said.

"At her grandma's. She'll be back tomorrow," said Stephanie. "Which fact you'd know if you were living here."

"Yeah, but then butthead wouldn't be able to stay here, which would make it ever so much more inconvenient for him to get into your pants," I said.

"Stop it, Willard. Stop it now. We need to talk. And raving doesn't qualify as talking. Okay?" she said.

"Fine," I said.

"So, you talked with Darla?" she said.

"Yes, she said, indicated, that you might have something useful for me to consider," I said. She smiled at me.

"Well, maybe I do," she said.

"And?" I said.

"Will, you and I-we love each other. Marlon is useful to me, but not my end all," she said.

"Glad to hear it. But, he still get's my very beautiful wife any time he wants her, right?" I said. "You know the last time I saw you-well-I can't remember ever seeing you so beautiful, not for me." She looked concerned.

"That was a huge mistake on my part. I wanted to die after I realized just how hurt you were. Trust me, that will never happen again. I swear," she said.

"Mistake? Which? You dressing up for him better than you ever did for me or letting me see that you're doing so?" I said.

"You know very well what I mean," she said.

"No, really, I don't," I said.

"Okay, doing something for him that I didn't do for you. That's what I meant. Satisfied?" she said.

"Okay, yes, so far so good. So, if I come back, there won't be anymore of that in-my-face stuff anymore?" I said. She hesitated; I thought that telling.

"Of course not. I mean, I will do my best to never let it be a problem for you again, or for me for that matter," she said.

"Oh trust me, it will always be a problem if I know you're out doing it with him. I should just walk, but as you once noted, I do not want to give him a clear field to influence my daughter," I said.

"I know. He wants more access, but I do understand where you're coming from, so does he if it matters," she said.

"It doesn't, not an iota," I said.

"Anyway, okay then. My stuff's in the car. Are we sharing a bed tonight?" I said. She looked down.

"Look, I kinda promised-no-I did promise Marlon that we'd be going out. If you make me, I'll call him and tell him we're off for tonight. But, that said, I hope you'll cut me some slack and let me break this to him gently. You may hate the guy, but I don't." I sighed and nodded.

"Well, I didn't expect you," she said. "The last time you showed up; I kicked him out to please you.

"Do you remember how clean and neat the bedroom was that time, the time you came back?" she said.

"Yes," I said, wondering how Amy's cleaning skills had anything to do with what we were talking about.

"He's the one that cleaned it. For us!" she said. That did stop me-momentarily.

"Nice of him. Okay, I'll come back tomorrow. Say around noon. And, the rest of the weekend will be for you and me. Fair enough?" I said.

"Yes," she said. "And, maybe we can start building a little more understanding around this place. Okay?" I didn't respond, but I did give her a slight nod, very slight.

******

The next day I rang the doorbell at precisely noon. She answered the door, but she scowled.

"It's your house, Will, you are not required to ring the doorbell," she said. I wasn't going to ask if good 'ole Marlon had the same privilege. But, then I did.

"Let me ask you, Steph, am I the man of the house, and is this house really mine again?" I said. She gave me a look that almost seemed stunned.

"Of course!" she said.

"Does Marlon have to ring the bell?" I said. She hesitated.

"Uh-well-yes, I guess so," she said.

"Okay, I won't be ringing it anymore then. I accept your offer to allow me to be the number one, the man of the house," I said. She tendered me a wan smile.

We ate lunch, and just as we were finishing up, Amy arrived.

"Daddy!" she screamed. There were hugs and kisses and hellos and a lot of silly talk.

"Yes, here to stay," I said in answer to her question. Her look indicated her concern over the wisdom of the new situation, but she kept her thoughts under wraps.

I don't know where she went, but Stephanie disappeared for more than two hours during the afternoon. We'd moved my stuff in, put it all away, and then I'd gone and laid down for a nap. When I woke up it was almost five o'clock. She arrived maybe fifteen minutes later.

"I ordered Dominoes for tonight," she said. "You're going to need your strength." She smiled broadly.

"Really?" I said.

"Depend on it, buster," she said.

******

The pizza was sausage and bell peppers; it was large, it was good, and it was gone when we were done. Then, Amy went to bed; and, so did we.

I was the first one ready for bed, and I knew that whatever Stephanie had in mind for us was likely to be a full court press. Boy was I ever right. My first thought was, when she first emerged from the bathroom, Marlon eat your heart out, this is for me. God she was beautiful. She posed, she swayed, she pushed her ass back at me. I caught myself actually licking my chops.

"Trust me, sailor," she said the other guy never got what you're going to get tonight," she said.

The black teddy she was wearing was not see-through; it covered everything, but that, barely. Her hair billowed about her shoulders on the pillow as I loomed over her.

She smiled up at me. I think I was being encouraged. "Be gently with me big guy; I'm just a little girl," she said. She was five nine, and hardly a little girl, but her demur act was effective. I did go slow with her at first, but soon she was panting and urging me on. I exploded inside of her, and rolled off and to the side. I was doing some panting of my own.

She roused herself after some little time and began massaging my balls and cock. In the process, I tried to watch her as she revived my little soldier. After our initial go-she seemed-something.

I'd taken her missionary, and sort of expected that she might want to go doggie for the second go 'round, but, she demurred. She spread her legs wide to take me missionary the second time as well. I accommodated her. Then it hit me. She was relaxing, no, she was bored. I knew then, though I didn't fully realize it, that we were through as man and wife. There was no saving us.

I drilled her that second time with everything I had and tried to last forever. Well, forever lasted all of maybe five minutes.

We traded a couple of kisses and were soon asleep.

******

I was up before the sun, and she was up before me. I donned a robe, and went downstairs. I could smell the coffee brewing. I could hear her on the phone.

"Yes, I fucked him raw, just like you suggested. I think it helped our situation," she said… "No, no, he's not much on imagination, but he tries hard. I have to give him that… No, no, this is his weekend. You coming over is not an option… no, no, Amy can't come to you either… I said no… Yes, I wore the black teddy you bought me… no he didn't get my ass, but he didn't ask for it either… no, this is not a time to be denying him anything; down the line, but not now… okay… love you too… bye." she hung up. She hadn't seen me.

******

I went in. "Coffee smells good," I said. She smiled her appreciation.

"It should; I grew the beans myself," she giggled.

"Uh huh," I said. I decided to put an end to the charade. "I like Marlon's taste," I said. Suddenly she seemed wary.

"His taste?" she said.

"Yes, in peignoirs," I said. "That little black number you wore last night was perfect," I said. She paled.

"You heard me talking on the phone," she said.

"Yes, kind of hurtful, but I suppose I kind of expected that-we-would end kind of like this. At least you didn't call me a wimp," I said.

"Will, you are not a wimp… " she started.

"No, just a guy with no imagination. Well, I guess you have a point there," I said. I could see she was beginning to cry. She nodded her realization that we were at a crossroads.

"Where do we go from here" she said.

"We get an amicable divorce, I guess. Or not. Depends on you more than me," I said.

"Marlon?" she said.

"Yes," I said. "But, I am less concerned with him than before. Still, there is one thing. Amy says that he's been giving her some looks, and not the fatherly kind. If that turns out to be true my wrath will be boundless," I said.

"Looks! Never!" Stephanie almost screamed at me.

"Ask her. I wouldn't say something like that without reason," I said.

Amy had been less than persuasive relative to her situation with her bio dad. But, I was determined to err on the side of caution.

Stephanie stormed upstairs. I sat where I was sipping my coffee. Two minutes later they were both down and staring at me.

"Well!" said Stephanie, looking hard, straight, and accusingly at her daughter.

"Daddy? I-I-I may have exaggerated a little about Marlon," she said. "He didn't come on to me. He did give me some looks, but I don't think he was…"

"Planning on molesting you! Right, Amy!" said her mother.

"No," said Amy. I smiled at the two of them.

"Okay, so the only things he's guilty of then are some undefined looks in your direction; oh, and being party to breaking up this family. That about right?" I said.

"Willard Browne! Haven't we…"

"Had enough of this, Stephanie? Well, actually yes. Especially when I heard you this morning making long range plans with him to deny me sex," I said.

"I-we-did not!" she said.

"Oh? Then what did you mean when you told him that it was, how did you phrase it? Oh yeah: "no, this is not a time to be denying him anything; down the line, but not now," I said. "We're you talking about something or someone else?"

"Well, I…"

"Exactly, you," I said.

"I want physical custody of Amy. You will get what the courts initially gave me: unrestricted informal visitation and every other weekend formal visitations and summers. That okay with you? If it is, we can remain friends. If not, we will never, ever, be friends; and will instead be mortal enemies. Your choice," I said.

"Willard…"

"You've got your lover. I want my baby. Think about it. Think it over. I'll be outta here today, with Amy. You can have your asshole come and live with you; you know keep you company.

"Hey, talk it over with him. He wants to see 'his' child more often; this works it so that he can, and I won't even bad mouth the sonovabitch anymore. Hey, it's a helluva deal," I said.

"He won't go for that, and I can't go for it," she said. "I'm her mother."

"Yes, and not a very good one as far as I'm concerned. Just talk it over with the asshole. If he goes for it, we're good.

"But, now, I am going up to pack. You too, Amy, I mean if you want," I said.

"I definitely want," she said. Her mother's mouth was hanging open as we headed up stairs.

We were packed and out of the house in seventy-six minutes.

******

I wasn't there for their conversation. But, I have to conclude that good 'ole Marlon, if not exactly thrilled with my ultimatum, saw the wisdom in it and convinced Stephanie that it was the better of the two choices I'd laid out for her.

To good 'ole Marlon's credit he did not try to come between me and my daughter. That got him some latitude from Amy, which I did not object to. Stephanie stayed out of my way for the next year. I mean we did not speak or lay eyes on each other for almost thirteen months. Then we did talk.

It was Memorial Day, and we were at the park having a little picnic. I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. "You and Darla doing okay?" she said.

"Stephanie! You surprised me. Uh-yes-fine. You and Marlon?" I said.

"Good. But you know that. I know you talk when he picks her up for our weekends and such," said Stephanie.

"Yes, we talk a little. Just mundane stuff, nothing serious," I said.

"Well, I guess everything worked out for the best, then," she said.

"Appears so," I said.

"Will, I'm sorry for everything. I mean all of the shit you put up with over the years. I genuinely hope you and Darla are happy," she said.

"We are," said Darla, coming up to us at that moment. "We most certainly are."

"Hello, old girlfriend," said Stephanie. "And, like I was saying to your hubby, I'm glad for you."

"Thank you for that, girlfriend," said Darla, echoing the other.

"Might I ask, would you two and Amy of course be interested in coming to the house for a barbecue next weekend? Nothing fancy, just eats, talk, music, and well, more talk. Whaddya say?" she said.

Darla looked over at me, and I shrugged my okay.

"Well, good. I've gotta get going. Marlon's seeing a client this morning, but we have something planned for tonight, and I have to be getting ready," she said.

We said our goodbyes and then she was gone.

Darla looked over at me. I was staring at her. "Well, at the least it'll be interesting," she said.

"I reckon so," I said. And, the fact is it worked out and it was interesting and things turned out good. Helluva note.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Agreement
   Author:Matt Moreau
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.forum.allporncomix.com/threads/matt-moreau-cuckold-cheating-hotwife.1934/
Published:2024-03-05
Harry paced the room and literally wrung his hands. He'd lost interest in work. He'd lost his appetite. Sleep? What was that. Women! The most giving creatures on the planet; his the most giving of all. And he was not happy. How could he tell her-what if he broke her heart. But he had to risk it. He was being unfair to her he told himself. He was what he was and she was what she was and there was but slight damn chance that ever the twain would meet if things kept going the way they were. He had to try, and the worst of it was that he wasn't sure. After all of his hand wringing, after all of his mental anguish, after all of the confab with Royce, what if…

He heard her car pull into the driveway. It was now or never. The back door was opening. He heard her footsteps as he always did this time of day.

"Hi," was his singularly weak opening.

"Marla, can you get these papers processed before you go home," said Mad Maxine Cabrera the bank's vice president in charge of operations. She'd been dubbed Mad Max a long time before; something about being a hard-nosed theory-X manager type. She was a striking woman. Maybe five-foot nine inches tall, raven hair, voluptuous figure, pale olive complexion with not a hint of a wrinkle at her age forty-four.

"Certainly, Max. Want 'em in the outgoing when I'm done?"

"No. I've got to look them over before we send them out. Big bucks, you know."

"Isn't it always?" asked the slim petite redhead?" Marla Gilbert was delicate looking and gorgeous. She sported freckles that gave her a teenagerish look even at her age thirty-eight. Her A-cup breasts and her sculptured butt emphasized her youthful appearance.

"Yes. Of course. Wouldn't be very fun if the bucks weren't big." Maxine turned and started to walk away when she heard her subordinate call her back.

"Miss Cabrera… " Marla's voice trailed off. Maxine noticed, crossed herarms, and leaned back against the edge of the large oaken desk.

"Yes Marla?"

"Oh nothing," said the redhead suddenly uncomfortable and hoping that her superior would let it ride and go.

"Marla, if it's personal, you can tell me to butt out and I will. If it's about the business, then get on with it. We have no secrets from each other, not us." She smiled as she said this last. Her pussy became stimulated by the mere thought of some of the times—few and far between though they had been—that the two of them had shared.

"I don't know. Maybe it's something that were better left unsaid," said Marla looking undecided and slightly forlorn.

"I see. Anything at all that I can do? I mean, like I said, there need not be any secrets between us."

"I don't know. Oh, I guess. Harry and I are in kind of the doldrums these days."

"By 'doldrums' you mean in terms of sex."

"Yes, that mainly, and money problems too, and it's all my fault. I don't know how to please him. I think he is bored and quietly angry with me."

"You do." Maxine did a slow half pivot and paced a few steps off in front of the desk. She turned back to Marla, "No."

"Huh?"

"I said, no. He's not angry with you. He may be frustrated with the current state of things, but Harry Gilbert is too bright a fellow to be blaming the best thing that ever happened to him for the miniscule problems you two have."

"Miniscule! How dare you…"

"How dare I. Who bailed you out of debt last year and will again if necessary? Who made sure his company hired a balding septuagenarian for his secretary, so you wouldn't have to worry? Who rushed you to the hospital when you had that kidney stone problem three years ago."

"Sorry. You're right. But our problems are not small to us. You gotta give me that."

"Well, I'm sorry too I guess. Problems are always a matter of perception. Almost never a matter of fact. Want some advice?"

"Oh yes."

"Do something to shake him up sexually. Something completely off the wall. That'll fix him up."

"Easy to say, but what?" asked Marla with knitted brows.

"Is your problem with sex your problem or his problem?"

"I probably should say it's both of ours. But, the truth is it is mostly him. The sex for me is pretty good."

"If it's pretty good, it's terrible. Sex should always be sensational. When your man bends you over and pushes his thing up to the hilt; well, it should be the best, always the best."

Marla blushed like an ingenue on her first cycle. " I do like it when he screws me. But, he is such a bastard sometimes, not caring what I want or what I need. He just fucks me and rolls over. But, it is heaven while he's in me; he's very thick you know."

"Do you ever talk to him about your feelings and needs? Ever put the onus on him?"

"Yes, sometimes. But he doesn't seem to hear me."

"Do you whine about it?"

"I guess. I hate myself afterward for being so selfish, but I do have certain wants. I guess I'm not very patient. Maybe it is my problem too"

"Yes, and you're entitled to them; I mean your wants and your problems. But, you shouldn't whine. Harry should tan your bottom for that. It's his duty as your husband to make sure you learn obedience and to do your duty. You understand that."

"Yes, I understand. But, Harry is too wimpy to spank me even when I'm being bratty."

"Then you have to train him."

"Train him? We're talking about him spanking me aren't we?"

"Yes. A woman, some women, sometimes needs to know her man will take her in hand. It gives her a feeling of security. Men think that we are the weaker sex. We aren't, but we are the submissive sex—usually."

"I guess so."

"Oh it's true. Train that man of yours. Train him soon."

"How?"

"Tell him about us for starters."

"What! You want me to get served with divorce papers! He'd never understand; he'd probably have you arrested and me committed, or try to."

"He couldn't. We're consenting adults. What have we done? On rare occasions we've engaged in a 'no strings' tryst. Gotta tell you, I'm beginning to get the urge right now, and that's a fact."

"You mean you want to do me now?" Marla flushed. She felt the eyes of the taller woman boring holes in her sheath dress.

"Absolutely. I want to spank you too. I think you'll look nice jerking and bouncing and squealing while you get the wrong end of my new hairbrush."

Marla flushed redder than she had in recent memory. She could not resist the taller woman. She loved her dominant ways. It had been a fantasy that she had long nurtured privately, but that she had only been able to express since the day Maxine had finally had enough of her moping around and had taken her in hand-literally.

Marla had been shocked by the strength of the larger woman as her wrist had been grabbed and used to pull her along to the store room in the back of the office. There, as Maxine seated herself on a large packing crate, she had felt herself pulled across a pair of very shapely knees and spanked quite smartly. She'd cried crocodile tears for sometime after; but later, she had gone to Maxine and thanked her for the lesson she had been taught-and she had thanked her on her knees.

From that impromptu beginning, a relationship between the two disparate females had been born and had grown. Marla was now the unambiguous bottom to Maxine's top in their little B&D; arrangement. Sex had entered into their little game at some point that neither of the two of them could now accurately recall.

"Lift your dress," said Maxine, "I want to see your panties."

Marla was composed now. She knew what Maxine would do next, so she just obeyed and lifted her dress. She was wearing dark green french-cuts. Her slit was clearly visible where her legs came together at the base of her tummy. "Like the color?" she asked impishly.

"My yes," said Maxine. "Come over here."

Marla complied and dropped to her knees. She bent forward and kissed her mistress on her lower belly. "You may lift my skirt and do that Marla. I want you to kiss me down there."

Marla lifted her boss' skirt and kissed her again just above her vulva. Maxine shuddered at the feel of Marla's lips on her body. "Now pull down my panties and kiss me again-all over," commanded Maxine.

Slowly, very slowly Marla pulled her boss' panties down to her ankles. She then kissed her again on the now exposed lower abdomen. Soon Marla was turning her head sideways to trace her friends slit with her tongue. She pried the other's two legs apart enough for her to gain access to her sex. She began licking her inner thighs, then her slit again, then her hole.

She did everything she could to penetrate Maxine's pussy as much as she could with her tongue. Soon Maxine was shivering in the first throes of a violent climax. Maxine grabbed her paramours head and forced it to remain pressed against her sex. She ground her pussy into the face of the woman at her feet.

Marla squatted back on her ankles now. She awaited her next duty. She did not wait long. "Strip naked for me Marla. I wan to see you, all of you."

Marla stood and did an amateur striptease for her boss. Finally she stood naked, girlish tits jutting out in front of Maxine. Her time had come…

******

Marla gently stroked the red welts that crisscrossed her naked buttocks after her spanking. Maxine, having dressed, gazed in bemused fashion upon the naked splendor of her "bottom's" buttocks. She smiled with satisfaction that Marla, a gal so incredibly wantable, would have permitted herself to be dominated and controlled by her—by anybody for that matter. But, subs were subs and dommes were dommes and no one could say with any definitude why one was one and another was—well, no one completely understood anything about B&D.;

"What do you think, Marla, want me to talk to him?" asked Maxine helpfully.

"I don't know, Maxine. Harry and I are kinda ordinary, at least when it comes to each other. Until-well-until you, I never dreamed of trying anything adventurous. I'm afraid Harry would go bonkers if I even suggested something like what you and I do to him."

"Um. Yes, I can understand your reserve. But, I am fairly experienced in such matters, and if you'll let me, I can manage it without any danger to your marriage or your sex life either. In fact, I can assure you that he will fuck you with a renewed enthusiasm that will simply blow your mind. Come on, want to give it a try?"

"Well…"

"At the risk of sounding trite, 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained.'"

"I guess not," said Marla without overwhelming conviction.

"Good then it's a done deal. I'm gonna convince your husband to take you in hand, as you wish to be taken in hand, and to be the strong, dominant husband you need. Oh, and if I succeed," Maxine paused for effect, "you owe me one. Agreed?"

"Yes. I guess so," agreed Marla.

"Very, very good," said Maxine smiling like a possum. "Now come over her so I can put some salve on that sore posteriorflorifus for you."

Marla knew the drill. She walked over to the desk Maxine was leaning against and bent over it, arching her butt high enough to make for easy access by her top. Maxine very gently stroked the other female's buttocks and began applying the white goo she always used to assuage her bottom's pain. And, also as usual, she pushed a finger deep into the bent-over

girl's anus. Her ministrations had an ulterior motive; she would soon be plunging her strap on penis deep into the helpless girl's nether hole. Marla rested her head on her hands while she awaited what she knew would soon come.

******

Harry's boss was a handsome man. Royce Richter had been a college athlete and a summa at Columbia before becoming a general partner in Harry's company. The two had become friends and occasional drinking buddies. Harry didn't drink heavily, but when he was with Royce, his tongue tended to be looser than at other times. Royce had learned his secret soon after they'd met: Harry wanted to make a change in his life; he wanted to dump Marla.

He wanted to dump her not because he didn't love her, but because he couldn't seem to satisfy her as he thought she deserved. Harry had whined and complained and blamed himself and had generally let it all hang out to his friend Royce.

Royce had been amused then, but this was now. He was tired of his friends pussy-whipped whiny attitude. With a wife like Marla, he, Royce Richter would be happy as hell. But Harry was a wimp when it came to women-a fatal flaw. Royce advised him now, to take the woman, and forget his pangs of guilt, real or imagined.

"Listen Harry, fuck the woman. Fuck her early and often. They love it. She'll love it. And if she complains, fuck her again. Stick that guilty-assed pole of yours as far up her twat as you can and bang her till she figures out who's boss. And when you get tired of that, she's got two other holes that you should most definitely not neglect. She'll love you for it. I tell yuh, she'll love yuh for it. Get your ass in gear and stop bein' such a wimpy-assed high school bastard."

"Criminy Royce, you really know how to hurt a guy."

"Take charge Harry. You'll thank me if you do. So will she."

******

"Hi back at you," Marla said. She noticed his pale expressionless face. "What's the matter?"

"Need to talk." He was nervous, obviously nervous.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I've been thinking…"

"Hon, before you say, I've brought someone home with me."

"Huh?" Harry had the look of a hound whose bone had been taken away. His eyes went immediately to the doorway where a tall, dark haired, confident looking woman stared back at him."Oh," was all he could manage.

"Did I interrupt you?" asked Maxine with a degree of formal concern in her voice.

"Uh—it can wait," said Harry.

"Honey," said Marla, "this is Maxine. We work together. She's my boss."

Maxine smiled at that. Boss, top, friend she was all of them, but she never thought of herself as Marla's boss, more as her mentor perhaps, but not her boss. "Nice to meet you Harry. Marla has told me a ton about you."

Maxine smiled in a way that was mildly unsettling to Harry: This was a markedly different woman than his wife. He was most interested to know why Marla had brought her home; she'd never brought another co-worker home with her before. "Oh—well—very glad to meet you too," he said with appropriate surprise.

"Harry, I have to go upstairs for a few minutes, will you please entertain Maxine in the meantime," it was not a question; Marla was halfway up the stairs before Harry could even respond.

"Well, Maxine, it looks as if you're stuck with me for a little while. Won't you have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee, anything?"

For the first time Harry noticed the woman's attributes: especially her, what must have been, thirty-eight-D tits. She was taller than he was too; not threateningly tall, but imposing nonetheless.

"Perhaps a little later, Harry. May I call you Harry?"

"Yes, of course." Harry was uncomfortable in the company of such a voluptuous female. He determined not to act it, however. "So, you work with Marla."

"Yes. We've been in the same department for quite a while."

"You're the first co-worker of hers that I have met. We work totally adverse schedules."

"Yes, she told me. We share a lot. You know, girl stuff."

"Oh, I see." Harry didn't really see. Marla had never talked about Maxine. He wondered what "girl stuff" meant exactly.

"Harry, can I tell you something." Harry nodded. "Marla loves you a lot. She talks about you incessantly." Harry squirmed, and Maxine noticed. "I hope I'm not making you feel uncomfortable, Harry," she said with genuine concern.

"Uh, no. No, of course not. It's just that Marla and I don't talk much about our shop acquaintances. Don't know why really; it's just our way I guess."

Maxine smiled. "Harry, I'm going to be straight with you: Marla asked if I would speak with you about something personal. But, if it's not all right, you can just tell me to butt out, and I'll understand." She paused and observed the paling of his countenance and the fidgeting of his short thick fingers.

She decided to go on. "Harry, Marla is worried. She loves you, and she fears you are growing bored with her. I've had some experience with such things, and so she asked me to kind of run interference for her; that is, to explain a couple of things that she's afraid to."

Harry was utterly flabbergasted. He wasn't angry or in any way incensed. He didn't know what he was. He felt—at a loss; he just stared. "Yes?"

"Yes. Well, I mean would it be okay with you if I go on?" asked Maxine smoothly. The man nodded.

"Well then. Frankly Harry your wife would prefer it if you were a—little more manly."

"What!" Harry hissed the word. Now he was angry. How dare this interloper imply he wasn't "manly." "What are you talking about…?"

"Please Harry. I know this is a shock. But, unless I miss my guess, you've had some of the same kinds of feelings too, only the reverse."

Harry considered that. Considered what he had planned to tell, explain, ask Marla before Maxine had showed up. "Go on," he said sardonically.

"Thanks Harry. Marla is all girl Harry. She wants to be treated as girls should be treated. In the classical sense if you like. She wants a man who can dominate the scene, not one who bows and scrapes. She doesn't want to

be put on a pedestal and worshipped; she would rather be put over a knee

and spanked."

"What in hell!"

"Harry…"

"What in hell are you talking about. Does she know that you're telling all of this?"

"I'm talking Harry about your taking charge and being the man you should be. Marla needs a protector and a strong hand. Guidance. Harry, she wants you to lead, not be led."

Harry was at a loss. Here was a strange woman telling him the same things, to all intents and purposes, that Royce had told him. "Amazing. My best friend has told me the same thing, in almost the same words."

Now it was Maxine's turn to be surprised. "Your friend told you what I'm telling you? Who's your friend, Harry?"

"A fellow worker. His name is Royce Richter. Know him?"

"Royce Richter?" Maxine flushed. "Yes, yes In know him. He used to be my husband."

Harry was suddenly more than mildly interested in Maxine's words. "Your ex-husband?" he repeated evenly.

"Married four years. Royce is a very dominant and pushy guy. We weren't compatible at all."

Harry, forgetting his own problem, asked her why they had divorced.

"Because, I'm a dominant personality too. For a marriage to work, one of the partners has to relinquish the decision making role; neither of us were capable of that, so we broke up; it's been a long time now."

The two talked for another half hour. Neither took any notice that Marla had not returned. And neither was aware that Marla was just on the other side of the door jamb listening to every word.

******

Harry looked into his wife's semi-downcast eyes. The two of them had sat in pregnant silence since Maxine had departed twenty minutes before. He stared at her small girlish frame, her teeny tits. He suddenly found himself lusting after this female in a very delicious way. He'd thought he knew her. He now realized that he hadn't had a clue. His girl, his wife, was really a very docile creature indeed. How could he have not realized it? Three years of marriage and he hadn't had an inkling. He spoke.

"Wanna talk? I mean we can't just sit her forever."

Marla looked up at him. "Do you want me Harry? I mean really want me?"

"Absolutely." He had a sense that he had never spoken words that were more completely true. "And I want you now more than I ever wanted you. In fact you are in great danger of being raped as you sit there."

She smiled. "Promises promises."

"I keep my promises in case you hadn't noticed."

"Then don't break the thread."

Harry stood and walked around the table. He took her by the arms and raised her slowly out of her chair. Harry wasn't a muscle man, but he was a good deal stronger than he appeared; often the case with wiry built men. He pulled her to him and kissed her with a surprising gentleness on her orange painted lips—very gently; he'd get rougher, he thought to himself, but these first moments had to be sensual, not crude; their lives were about to change in none too subtle ways.

He pushed her gently away. "Strip for me," he said in a husky voice.

She stood for a moment with her eyes downcast, still, hands at her sides. She looked up at him and her hands came to her breast which she covered and pressed to herself very slowly. She began to unbutton her blouse; one button at a time. The light beige material of the filmy item of clothing began to part revealing a bra of the same color beneath.

She tugged the blouse from the belt line of her dark brown miniskirt; she did not take the blouse off. She let it hang loose around her; her hands were again at her sides. She reached for the side of her skirt and undid the button at the top of the garment. She slid the zipper down slowly. For a moment she stopped, preventing the skirt from falling to the floor, then she let it go and it slithered down her thighs and calves to lay in a pool at her feet.

He gazed at her panties and the dark secret it concealed at the base of her navel, at the place where her legs came together. He almost drooled with desire.

Less than a half an hour earlier he had been in a near state of shock after having listened to Maxine; now, he hardly remembered her having been there. He'd remember later, and he and Marla would talk, but not now; now was a time on its own spectral plane, a plane totally divorced from any other sentient reality. A place with a population of but two.

She let her blouse fall now too; it joined her skirt in the pile on the floor. She let her hands move slowly up and down her sides. She reached for the front of her bra and released her breasts from their confines; she ridded herself of the flimsy item and let her nipples poke out at her husband tauntingly as she deliberately thrust her chest in his direction; they were already hard and extended.

Harry had resumed his seat; he'd had to, his knees were shaking. He didn't actually lick his lips, but his expression gave the impression that he had. His face felt puffy and warm; yet, no other sensation was noticeable by him. He was going to be very selfish with this girl's body very shortly.

Marla slipped her thumbs inside the top lining of her panties and pushed them earthward. She stood naked now. Her hands at her side fiddled absently with the flesh of her upper thighs scratching, pinching it. Harry was speechless; there was nothing to say anyway; speech would have lent an artificiality to the moment that neither of them either needed or wanted; it was a moment for the neural senses only, and the mind. That was it, he thought, there was purity in things of the mind; his only concern was that he might be losing his.

Her perfume assaulted his senses. Women were basically cruel; they did all in their power to seduce men, and perfume, the right perfume, was chemical warfare at its most seductive. Marla did lick her lips; she was all sensate, all woman, and very dangerous. He would make her pay now; he would take her very roughly; he would most definitely enjoy that, and so would she. Hadn't Royce said so? Hadn't her friend Maxine said as much as well? Gawd, how he had wasted three years; unforgivable!

She was very close. Her breasts, her nipples were level with his face as he sat eyes hardly blinking. He reached out and touched her little mounds. So small. So little-girlish. Thirty-eight years old and looked fourteen. He pulled her to him and sucked her left titty into his mouth. He had in mind to suck it raw. He squeezed her right mound and kneaded it playing with the nipple as he did so.

Marla felt the familiar connection of her breasts with her cunny as he savaged her chest. He was playing rough and she didn't care. She felt him drop his left hand from her breast and cup her buttocks. He insinuated his fingers into the cleft between them. On finger, she wasn't sure which, began the invasion of her anus: it only hurt a little. She pushed back slightly helping him to enter her canal more deeply; she wanted to surrender. He switched his mouth to the other tit and continued his suckling. Gawd, how she wanted to be fucked.

"Turn around and bend over," he said. She obeyed. "Spread your legs a little." again she obeyed his command.

He spread her cleft and gazed at her secret places. He kissed her nether hole and began to lick it. She had braced her hands along the sides of her thighs while he did his thing to her rear door. he'd never done that before. Suddenly she was worried. Would he…? Her worry was unnecessary; he moved his tongue to her pussy preparing it for his cock.

"Come with me." He pulled her along to the couch. "Kneel up on it and bend over." She gladly did so pushing her butt out toward its fate. She felt the tip of his engorged penis probing her slit. He was nearly in her. She was tight in spite of his slavering all over her crotch. She felt him lodge the head of his rod securly inside of her. It was the moment that all women knew that they were had, that there was no escaping the bullish male's control, the moment when submission to their master's will was total.

She submitted to his cock more willingly than she ever had. He started to push home his cock without withdrawing it at all. Finally he was totally inside of her. He rotated it a little and then began screwing her slowly, then increasing speed, finally ramming her again and again.

He had to hold her hips to keep from thrusting her forward and over the back of the couch. She began bucking as she neared a climax; he was not far behind. Their one-two orgasm was a thunderclap of sweat endowed lust.

Harry was conscious of the fact that he was only half soft and still sexually ravenous. He wanted to go again. He pulled her back and kissed her, then pushed her down to her knees. "Suck," was all he could manage to say. Half spent, she did as she was told licking and sucking her man into another raging hardon; she smiled to herself; he had never taken her twice in a row. Gawd, how she loved the new Harry.

After several minutes of her sucking he pushed her all the way to the floor and spread her wide to take her again. He lay on top of her looking into her sweat stained face. He rammed his cock home again and again. It took longer the second time around. Finally he exploded inside of her again. He rolled off and pulled her on top of him. He liked the feel of her nipples pressing into his chest.

He liked the feel of her furry mound, scratchy against his soft lower belly. He determined to take her again later that evening, after he had taught her a lesson; if he could only get the courage up to dare. According to Maxine; she had certainly wanted one. He would have to tell Royce how absolutely right he had been. If he could only get up the courage. Gawd! what a weakling he was, had been… still was. Damn, he'd never get the courage up; he knew it; Marla knew; it seemed like everybody knew it.

*****

The phone rang on Royce Richter's desk just as he was leaving the office. He was surprised to hear the throaty voice of his ex-wife. "Maxin… I'm surprise… No, surprised to hear your

voice… What, may I ask, can I do for you?… Really… You know his wife?… Isn't' t that a coincidence… Sure… Okay… Fifteen minutes," he said this last looking at his watch mentally calculating his chances of reaching the designated bistro in time in the afternoon traffic. He hungup; she hadn't even said goodbye.

******

"I can't believe it, you know. I mean that you are her friend, and I am his."

"Yes, I know. Me too."

"You look good girl. I mean real good." His eyes ravaged her.

Maxine blushed inwardly. She had worked hard to get him to say that. It had cost her half the morning to get ready for this meeting. When Marla had not shown up for work that morning—understandable she knew-she had actually become jealous of her. She had decided to take a shot at her ex. And here she was, they were, and he had said the right thing. It might turn out to be a good day.

"What do you think?" she asked coyly.

"Think?"

"Yes, about the two of them. Think they'll make it?"

"Hell, I don't know. Maybe. If she can learn to submit, as a woman should, and if he can learn to be a man instead of the wimpy-assed, pussywhipped, whiner he's always been. It'll be tough; you and I know about that."

"Yes. You're right."

"I like your dress; yellow always did look good on you. You wanna fuck?"

The crassness of his opener was so—him. He'd always been on the profane side. The kicker was that it turned her on in some weird-assed way. "Sure." She heard herself say, and she wasn't even sure whether she was joking or not. Royce didn't hesitate; he evidently wasn't joking. He rose from the table; threw a bill on it, and took her by the arm.

"My office is closest."

She let herself be led out to his Jaguar. He opened the door for her and saw her seated before he skipped back to his side, jumped in, got the engine to roar to life, and pulled out into traffic. Neither said a word. Royce because he didn't want to break the mood, and Maxine because she was overwhelmed by the suddenness of the whole thing.

Pulling into the garage, he escorted his still uneasy ex-wife to the elevator and up to the ninth floor and his office. He pulled her into his office and without any ceremony began to strip her of her clothes. She stood stock still while he peeled off her dress, her bra, and her

panties. he pulled her to him and kissed her madly. She let him have his way; it was part of her decision, a decision reached after seemingly endless soul searching.

She dropped to her knees and undid his belt.

"Give me the belt," he said softly, meaningfully. She understood him. He also understood her; she had given in. After years of problems and finally a divorce; she had decided to surrender. She knew she was going to be punished, and it humiliated her, but she had made up her mind to take her medicine and let him master her; she had few misgivings. She did fear the sting, and it would sting; she was going to dance a pretty dance on her toes that was for sure.

She pulled his shorts down and was met by his waving nine inch pole. Oh, it was going to feel good to be skewered by him. She prayed he would make it last and not cum too swiftly. But Royce had always had staying power, she remembered; he'd fuck her good and proper; she was sure of that. She took hold of it's almost unreal thickness and licked the precum from it's tip. She did her best to suck it in to her mouth; it stretched her jaws to the max. She let he tongue rub at the bottom of the shaft as she slurped and push-pulled the monstrous tool in and out of her mouth.

"Oh, yeah, like that," he breathed aloud as she sucked on him.

Pulling it out, she looked up at him with knitted brows; it was a question,

and he understood.

"No, not till after; but I am going to spank you."

"I know." Her surrender was complete now that she had voiced it. At least he wasn't going to punish her until after he had had her; she was going to be allowed to enjoy her screwing.

He grabbed her by her long hair and made her turn around. Naked and ready she bent over the table as he pressed his hand into the center of her back encouraging her. She felt the tip of his penis press against her soft place.

He pushed and entered her easily. He began to screw her slowly. He picked up the tempo after a few minutes and hammered her furiously as he neared a climax. Maxine too was near to climaxing just as he exploded into her bringing her with him. He fell forward onto her back as though he had run a marathon; in a sense he had: his wife was back and she was such an incredible screw.

"I have an idea," he said.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I am not going to spank you now. I am going to make an example of you."

Her look was one of supreme askance.

"Yes, an example to Marla and Harry. Harry, to see what a man should be to a wife; and Marla, to see how a woman should submit and accept discipline when required." Royce had the look of a knight on a mission.

Maxine noticed it, the look, but thought it overly dramatic and a tad silly. It was all just sex after all. Yet, oh so wonderful when it was right. It had been right tonight, she thought.

******

Marla opened the door, surprised to see Royce and Maxine together. Her look proclaimed her surprise.

"May we come in?" asked Royce amused at Marla's evident state of confusion.

"Uh-why yes-come in-I mean do come in, please."

"Thank you," said Maxine quietly. Too quietly, thought Marla.

"So, what have you two been up to," asked Royce of the pair as Harry came into the room wiping his face with a small peach colored hand towel.

"Well, Royce, nice to see you," said Harry with a mixture of genuine surprise and satisfaction.

Maxine was looking down at the floor. Marla continued to wonder at her boss' strange, for her, behavior.

"Harry, Maxine and I have been talking. We were not aware that each of us knew each of you until tonight. Once we discovered it, we determined to come over and have a little head to head with you folks."

"Oh," said Marla.

"Yes," continued Royce confidently. Maxine and I are going to be married again."

This time it was Harry who said, "Oh."

"Yes, and actually we have you two to thank. Maxine has finally decided to be the woman of the house and to let me be the man. I know that sounds strange, but it comes from our having talked to you two, albeit separately, about the things that were bothering you. We have decided that Maxine will receive her first spanking from me tonight and that the two of you will be witnesses if you are willing and so inclined." Royce stopped.

The silence was deafening. Marla broke it. "Yes, we agree. Don't we Harry. A girl's first spanking should be witnessed, I think," she said.

Harry, not trusting his voice, just nodded assent.

"Good," said Royce. His eyes roamed the room for a suitable station.

For the first time Harry noticed the large bag that Maxine had brought in with her. His thinking was interrupted by Royce.

"We can use that table if it's all right with you," he said eyes flitting between Marla and Harry.

"Yes, of course," said Marla with the hint of a smile playing about her mouth.

"Stand in the middle of the room Maxine and strip," her soon to be wedded husband commanded her. She stood without a sound, marched to the center of the room and began unbuttoning her blouse. Her skirt, bra, and panties were next. Finally she was naked, her large breasts commanding attention.

The crotch of Harry's pants was bulging; a fact that did not go unnoticed by his wife. "Now Maxine go to the table and bend over it." Once more she obeyed without a word. "Harry, there are some strips of rope in that bag, please fetch them and fasten Maxine's ankles to the legs of that table." Royce smiled at the anticipation fully evident in the look of his friend.

Harry, thrilled by the proximity of the naked female's butt to his face, did as he was told and soon had Maxine's ankles firmly tied to the table legs. Maxine was spread wide and her most secret places were available to the other three in the room. She, her torso flat on the table top, awaited her punishment.

"Wait a minute, Royce," said Harry in a calm voice. "Marla, you go to the center of the room and strip too. Since Maxine is going to get her first spanking tonight, so are you."

Marla was not prepared for this, and her face showed it. "But…"

"No buts," said Harry firmly. He had decided to take his chances. There would never be an opportunity like this one again. Marla obeyed. Moving to the center of the room as directed, she pushed her jeans down as they all eyed her. Maxine, her legs bound could see everything since she had been bound to the far side of the table and her face was turned in such a way as to have a full view of the room… Marla was naked now, her tiny tits and gorgeous behind there for all to see. "Royce, would you do the honors."

Royce took more lengths of rope from the bag and led Marla to the opposite end of the table from Maxine. There he proceeded to bind Marla's ankles to the table legs as Harry had Maxine's; and like Harry with Maxine, he was almost overcome by the closeness of Marla's buns to his face. Now their hands behind their backs," said Royce.

"I'm scared," whispered Marla to her friend, faces only inches away from each other, as the two men bound their hands tightly behind their backs.

"Yes, me too," answered her friend in an equally quiet whisper. "We're going to get it I'm afraid. Just let it flow. We will just take our spankings and then they'll fuck us. It'll be heavenly."

Marla tingled all over in anticipation.

Maxine shivered, as she saw each of the men take the belts from their pants. and approach. She saw Royce say something on the sly to Harry. Harry nodded. The men proceeded to stand behind their women.

Each of the women saw the other's mate raise their arms high in the air and strike downward with their belts.

Maxine's cry was deafening," aiaiaiyiyiyiyi… Marla on the other side of the table lost her breath with the first sting of the belt crashing on her naked buns. She wiggled and jerked spasmodically finally screaming, "n-noooo… " Both women danced on their bound toes. Both tried to rise but were firmly held in place by their husbands' strong hands. The sting, the jerking, the shock of the belts' force all was torment for the two women. Finally it was over.

"Let's fuck them the way they are," said Harry, for the first time in his life not acting like a wimp.

"Let's," said Royce in agreement.

Marla was still gasping for breath as she felt her husband's penis invading her pussy.

Maxine was crying like a baby as Royce's cock jammed itself in to the hilt skewering her.

Each of the women watched as her friend got royally fucked. Soon the girls were pushing back against the onslaught to their pussies. Their submission total, their men were doing their level best to hold out from cumming as long as they possibly could; the girls deserved that much.

******

Later, the two men, seated on the couch, were watching their women as they alternately purred or sucked their cocks or licked their ball sacks while trying to get them excited enough for an encore. It would be a tableau that would be repeated in one form or another in the future. It had been a auspicious beginning for both couples. The punishment had been fierce, but it had been worth it.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Barkeep
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Wife wants threesomes; he doesn't; they are at an impass
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/57891/the-barkeep
Published:2008-09-26
My name is Rick Wells. I'm forty-one years old. I'm married to a woman of the same age and have been for the past eighteen years-that is married to her; she hasn't always been forty-one. They have been mostly happy and fulfilling of my years. We've had some mundane and pretty much meaningless disagreements of course over that period of time who among us would not have. At least, I hasten to add, I have long been of the opinion that they were mundane and meaningless disagreements. My opinion has now changed, and my marriage and my formerly settled life are now under siege and in danger of suffering total ruin. And, you might guess, and you would be right, that the problem stems from sexual differences as is often the case with forty-somethings.

Anyway, I suppose I should tell you a little bit about our backgrounds.

I graduated from state college with B.A. in Psychology nineteen years ago. Now, you might think that a degree in Psyche would have led to me making $100 an hour listening to people's personal problems. Well, you'd be half right; I do listen to people's problems. And, I hear it all depression, cheating spouses, problems with the kids or the boss or the governor. I mean I hear it all; I'm a bartender. I do not make a $100 an hour; I make maybe fifty grand a year base. But! and it's a big but, I'm content.

My wife's a nurse. She graduated from a local community college with her A.S. degree and passed the NCLEX soon after, and that with flying colors. That was ten years ago. My wife, by the way, is a very smart cookie. Oh, and with all of the overtime she works, she makes more than I do. She keeps telling me I should do the doctoral program and go into practice. By "practice" she means clinical Psychology. I have resisted that however. I love my job. I meet a better class of people than the ones who can and do pay $100 an hour to be told what they can get from me for the price of a highball-actually, come to think of it, a lot of my people are the same as those other people!

Cali, that's my wife, gets out of sorts with me when I tell her I'm not interested in making more money, and in spite of what I said before, it has led to some pretty raucous arguments between us. In fact, it is at least part of the cause of the sword of Damocles that is currently hanging over our marriage.

Cali is pretty, not runway beautiful, but pretty. Maybe five-six and around 120. Auburn hair, freckles, and the greenest eyes this side of an orchard. Her tits run out at about 34Bs. Her butt is a little more spread out than some, but that's how I like 'em; a broad butt is so female. For me she's perfect.

Oh yeah, me. Well, I'm five-seven and a half, 162, with sandy hair and blue eyes-why would anyone care right. I'm okay looking, but I would be far less likely to ever be runway material than my wife. I do have a seven-inch johnson though that seems to be more than enough for Cali, and for that I am more than grateful to whatever fertility goddess took care of me in that department.

I bought the house we currently live in with money my dad left me just before I met Cali, so it's free and clear; that was in my senior year at state. Now, except for the payment on the new car I bought Cali for her 41st birthday, that was three weeks ago, we owe nobody nuthin'. I know money is a matter of status to her, but I ain't having any of that; chasin' the green ain't livin'.

While I have been under pressure from her to change careers, I have to admit that I have put a lot of pressure on her to cut back on her long hours at the clinic. We don't need the damn money; we need more time together. Now is the time in our lives, you'd think, that Cali and I would be doing things together. But oh no, we've got to make more money!

Our sex life hasn't been that great for some time. Something has to give. She's always too tired on my off days, and since I work till 11:00PM five days a week-I do have weekends off-I get home too late for her to be interested. We maybe get it on twice a month, if I'm lucky. Frankly, it has been getting to me.

We met when I was admitted to her clinic with injuries sustained in an auto accident. I was twenty-two at the time and just about to head off to basic training. I'd done the ROTC thing in college, and I was about to be given my second lieutenant's bars. The fucking accident would delay me for several weeks.

At any rate, Cali was my triage nurse and it was clear to me, when we met, that she wanted to talk. I, not being the shy type, asked her if she would be interested in having a cup of coffee with me when they released me. She didn't say anything, but she nodded in the affirmative. Three days later, with a cast on my leg, they released me. She met me in the lobby and wheeled me down to the cafeteria.

Cali learned, during our little coffee break, that first time in the clinic's cafeteria, that after basic I would likely be posted overseas, and for some reason she seemed panicky. I did my best to allay her unexplained concerns. We made a date for the following Saturday. Since my leg was in the stupid cast, there was no question of us going dancing. So we went dining and drinking.

During the few weeks that it took for my leg to mend, I fell hopelessly in love with her. I was gratified to learn that she had felt the same way about me from virtually the first moment we had met in the examination room at the clinic. This was a major boost to the ego of a man whose prospects had never been better than average with the girls.

I was in good shape physically, except for my damnable broken leg; and I still am, in good shape that is. I'd been a golden gloves boxer and had made regional semis before being killed by a guy whose hands were so fast that I don't think scientists had yet developed tools capable of clocking them, at any rate so it seemed to me. My habit of training, then and now, were clandestine; I trained and continue to train just for me-I did not do any fighting in the Army. My habits did and do, however, keep me in top condition. And for some reason, or maybe no reason, I have never let Cali know very much about my prize fighting days. At any rate, as to my physical condition, I can still run three miles in 25 minutes no problem and skip rope at 120per for twenty minutes non-stop. These, along with a couple of hundred reps with the iron each day, are enough.

Our first real date was the Saturday after that first cup of coffee. I picked her up and we went to Faricelli's, a small Italian bistro just outside of town. Faricelli's had the distinction of serving an imported wine, Falernus, which, so local wisdom avers, has an ancient Roman pedigree. At any rate it was great. We danced a little and left. Here was the moment of truth.

"Wanna take a drive," I asked. She smiled, knowing exactly what I had in mind, if she didn't, my leer would have been a dead giveaway.

"Okay," she said. "Do you have a condom?" She had taken the initiative away from me with that one.

"No," I said, a sheepish look on my face.

"Well anyway, don't break any traffic laws getting us there," she said.

If my face hadn't been red before, it sure as hell was now. "I won't," I said.

We made it to the park four miles distant in about fifteen minutes. She had slid over next to me, and was running her hands up and down my body as we drove. She avoided touching me in the place where at that moment I most needed to be touched. But, I had hopes that things would improve once we parked. They did.

We'd gotten in the back seat and I had pulled her gently to me. She was so pretty and so hot and so soft; she was the whole package; I was one lucky fella.

My hands lightly caressed her breasts. Her hand, also lightly traced the outline of my cock through my dockers.

"Let's get undressed," she said.

"Just what I was thinking," I said. We were naked in less than two minutes.

We continued our caressing of each other. It was a truly intimate time for us. I swore that if the gods ever gave me an opportunity to relive a moment of my life, this would be the moment I would choose; it was that wonderful.

She turned and presented me with her behind. "Take me doggy style, okay. I want you to control me; it's best for me that way," she said. I didn't argue.

I took hold of her arms, probably holding her too tightly, but she didn't complain. I pressed myself inside of her and then pulled out a little. Then I pushed in a little farther and repeated the process. Soon I was screwing her steadily, and she was making little mooing sounds that told me she was okay.

I stiffened. I could see she was nearing completion as well. I began ramming her hard. Her noises were staccato now. She stiffened, shook, and grunted. "Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuck, I'm cumming," She screamed. I blew my load inside of her.

Shrinking, I slid off to the side and looked at her, her head resting for a moment on the back of the seat, her butt still high in the air, cum running down from her slit and down her leg. "Thank you," she said. "I needed that."

"Fucking-A," I said. "Me too."

We cuddled for a little while, pulled on our clothes, and drove home. The kissing goodnight was tender and promised much.

After that first magnificent night in the backseat of my car, we dated four and five nights a week, and before I left for basic two months later; I proposed and she accepted. The ring I bought her wasn't much; I'd spent everything I had on the house I'd bought. But, it was a quarter carat diamond, and I thought it had character. Oh, and as to the house, even though we hadn't married as yet, I had Cali move in as soon as I left for basic; well, we were engaged.

She wrote me almost daily while I was in boot. You might say she kept me focused on her. And focused I was. I finished boot, got my bars, and headed back home for a 30 day leave about as fast as I could.

Arriving home, I broke the bad news to Cali: I was being posted to Afghanistan. I was slated for a fourteen month hitch. Needless to say Cali was not thrilled, but she was thrilled when I said we should get hitched right away. There wasn't time for a big wedding, but her parents, Marge and Philip Caplan, saw to it that it was a church wedding and that the reception was nice if relatively small-some forty people attended both events. My mom was there, but of course my dad had died some time before. These along with the usual aunts, uncles, cousins, and a few good friends were enough. We were married, and we were happy.

I carried her across the threshold at the house and we screwed for two days straight. On the following weekend we had a mini-honeymoon in Popotla, Mexico. The water was nice at the beach, and the few days we were there were memorable.

We did have a little business meeting one night while we were still in Mexico. We decided that kids were not going to be in the mix for us. Not for a long time at any rate. We wanted to be secure first. The irony in that was that she turned out to be barren. But, I was content. If kids weren't meant to be then they weren't. We were and that was all that mattered to me.

Two days after returning, I was in a C5 on my way to the war zone. Oh, and I'd made first lieutenant the day I was posted; I liked my new silver bars.

Let it be enough to say that my first war time posting was dull. I was a computer whiz, even though my college degree was in Psychology, and that made me a headquarters hanger-arounder. Sixteen months later I was home-yes not fourteen, well, whaddya gonna do, it's the freakin' Army.

"Oh my gawd, Rick! You're home," she squealed, throwing herself into my arms. I'd arrived unannounced, and though shocked, she was very glad to see me.

"Yeah, baby, I'm back," I said. It was a good beginning.

I mustered out two weeks later, and got me a job at the Head Trip Bar&Grill. I was a finally a bartender. No, I was a psychologist that worked in bar. Gawd! how I love my job.

All of which brings us to the present day.

Sex between us was evolutionary, as it is with almost all couples: at first insanely hot, then hot, then warm, and finally hohum. I missed the getting it on heat of our earlier days and so did Cali. In order to bring some of that early feeling back we would sometimes role play. We tried different things.

Sometimes we'd do it in different locations in the house, or in the woods when on vacations. Sometimes we'd tried the B&D scene with her in control, that was fun for quite a while actually. Sometimes we would talk about threesomes or gang bangs. Sometimes we'd talk about her cuckolding me while I watched. And, there were other things if I could but now remember them. But all of these things were mere fantasies between ourselves, and they stayed that way for years. Then he arrived, the asshole: Howard Colson, Dr. Howard Colson; he was a plastic surgeon.

"So, what will it be tonight, husband," said Cali. I leered at her.

"What about you dominate me and get it on with some dude you picked up somewhere," I said.

"Oh, I like that one," she said. We haven't played it in a long time. Okay, you're going to be the dude, and my wimpy hubby over there will get to watch." She pointed to the empty chair near the wall pretending that I "her husband" was sitting in it; while for my part I had become James, her lover.

"Sounds good to me," I said.

"His name is James, honey" she said, talking to the empty chair; she was already getting into the scene…

"Why do you have that rope around his neck like that; he can't even lean forward?" said James (me). "And his hands are tied behind the back of the chair too. Are punishing him for something?"

"Because, lover, he can be awfully jealous, and he knows that now that we've started he will not be allowed to interfere no matter what," said Cali. "He's going to be my little cuckold fellow tonight and that's that. He knows it's his fate." She smiled sweetly at the chair. "Isn't that right, honey," she said still looking at it. "See, James, he's trying to nod yes."

"Now, undress me slowly, James. Give hubby a show," she said. I undressed her playing the part of James the loverboy.

Naked, she got down on her knees. "Let me help you with your pants lover. I just love to pull down the pants of my lovers," she said, looking over at the chair and smirking.

I was naked from the waist down, and now she played with my stone hard dick. She looked over at the chair and blew her imaginary husband a kiss just before she took me in her mouth. I came hard and long very quickly.

We moved to the bed. We got ourselves tangled up kissing and feeling each others' flesh heat up as we played. Soon I flipped her on her back and drove myself into her. I was way too hot to delay fucking her. Geezsus was I hot, and so was she. I came with a shudder as she pile drove her mound into mine trying to cum at the same time; she didn't make it, but I wasn't done. I slipped out of her and down her body looking to suck my own cum from her baby smooth, hairless pussy. Now, she was slamming her mound into my face cumming in series, so it seemed and jerking wildly in the doing.

She looked over at the chair. "You have just been cuckolded big time, Rickie. Are you enjoying watching another man do me, baby? I really do hope so. I hope you're all right, baby. I hope you're not too jealous." She was really getting into the scene, but hell so was I!

She grabbed me around my shoulders and spun me over on my back; I was shocked by her strength!. She switched positions and lowered her pussy over my face as she stretched out and took my cock once more into her mouth. It took a few minutes, but she had me stone hard once more.

"Take me from behind, lover. I want to see my husband's eyes while you do me," she said. Gawd! this was hot I thought.

Grabbing her hips I pulled her to me and pushed in all the way. She let loose of a long ooohhmyooohhmy, just as I bottomed out inside of her. I began screwing her slowly at first, then picking up speed, then slamming her hard. I was still a ways from cumming as she was overcome by a wave of small orgasms. Then, just as I was about to blow the seams out of my cock with myn own orgasm, she stiffened, shuddered, and howled in the most intense cum I think she ever had. I sagged onto her back, her face still buried in the pillow and her butt still poised lewdly high I the air. She looked toward the chair.

"That, baby, is how you have to learn to do it, okay?" she said.

We lay sated and looked at each other, both of us smiling broadly. Gawd! How I loved this woman, I thought. She is all I will ever need.

Afterwards, we rolled apart sti8ll breathing heavily. We'd been at it for an hour.

"That was good," I said, meaning it.

"Damn right it was," she said. "Someday we have to actually think about trying out some of these fantasies in real life." Seeing you in that chair, jealous and helpless-gawd! that was hot."

"The whole scene was hot as far as I'm concerned," I said.

"No argument from me," she said.

She rolled over and looked at me seriously. "Whaddya think, husband mine, could we do this for real sometime? It would be even hotter for real, dontcha think?"

"Not gonna happen, dear heart, I ain't risking losing you to some other guy," I said.

"Like there is some chance of that ever happening," she said, laughing.

"I still ain't riskin' it," I said.

We kissed and talked a little in the afterglow. Then, she laid it on me.

"Ja-sorry-I mean Rick, can I ask you a favor?" she said. Her request caught me by surprise. Well, not her request so much as her tone of voice. But, at the moment I was vulnerable and feeling generous. I was just hoping she wasn't going to ask me to go shopping with her; it's the one thing that I just couldn't get myself to do for her, and she resented it to some small extent.

"Rick, an old friend of mine, a male friend, is in town, from high school days actually. His name is Howard Colson. He is going to be working at the clinic soon. He asked if we could get together to catch up on old times. Whaddya think?" she said.

"Sure no problem," I said, glad she didn't want me to go shopping with her again. "I'll make sure I get the night off and we can show him around. When is it going to be?"

"Uh, Rick, I mean just him and me. It's just to catch up on old times. You know. You wouldn't know anything about those days. You'd be kinda out of the loop," she said.

My look must've cued her. "Rick, it's not a date, but, well, I was afraid you might think that way; so I am asking. You know up front, as it were," she said. She seemed nervous.

"I don't think so, Cali. It doesn't seem right. I mean a man's wife going out with an old high school flame. He is an old flame isn't he?" I asked.

"Well, yes. But that was ages ago. There is nothing there like that now," she asserted all too vehemently.

We hashed it over for over an hour before things came to a head. I was tired, but tired enough to give ground on a request like hers.

"Again, how long has it been that you haven't seen him?" I asked.

"Since high school," she said.

"And you want to go out to dinner with him but without me?"

"It's only dinner, Rick. We aren't going to do anything," she said.

"Does he even know you're married?" I said, with an edge to my voice.

"Of course, silly. And, I told him all about you and what a wonderful husband you are. Rick, it's just dinner with an old friend. Just talk."

"I don't like it, Cali. It doesn't make sense, like I said, a man's wife going out with an old boyfriend. I don't like it," I said. "You do not have my willing approval or any other kind."

She looked at me wistfully. "Rick, I'm going, please. It's tomorrow night. I promise, I won't be too late, but I am going. I need to. I wish you would help me out here, my husband, but I am going. Please try and understand," she said. She reached for me, but I pushed her hand away and sat up on the edge of the bed. The wonderful sex of the night now turned to ashes, at least for me. She seemed a little bit shaken by my attitude, but she was also determined.

"I don't understand, and if you go, It's going to be a serious hurt to our marriage. I'm serious, Cali. Don't do it. Don't do this," I said.

We eventually called an end to the discussion and I tried to drift off, but couldn't. I got up and headed downstairs. I was naked, but I didn't even realize it. Downstairs, I plopped onto the couch and thought. This whole night. This whole night of sex was to get me to a place where I would say yes to what she really wanted-another man. Was I nuts? Maybe, but I had never been so frightened.

We spoke little the following morning. She'd come down and found me still awake, still naked, with bags under my eyes and tried to comfort me, but I pushed her away and went upstairs. She called after me.

"Rick, it's not a big deal. You have to understand," she said. I didn't even turn around to acknowledge her words. I went into the room and headed for the shower.

She went to work and I settled in to brooding about her and this old boyfriend. It was Saturday, she'd had to work, but I was off. Her "date" was for tonight. The fun filled night we had had the night before now seemed like a set up to me. I was not happy, and my stomach was churning.

That evening I was standing in the front room when she came down the stairs. She was way too beautiful for mere conversation, and I said so "Just conversation, huh?" I looked at her with steel in my eyes.

She smiled a sympathetic smile, "please," she said, "I love you." She tried to kiss me on the cheek, but I held her off. She frowned and looked angry, but she just turned and walked out. She got into her car and drove off. I made the call.

Cali and I had argued, discussed, and generally gone back and forth over this Howard Colson guy, and now she'd finally decided to shine me, us, on and go out with him no matter what I thought, wanted, or needed. Well, I wasn't sitting still for it. I had made arrangements late the night before, arrangements she didn't know about. I would not be her little wimp husband. I would not. Fantasies were one thing, real life was a whole different kettle of fish!

One thing about being a bartender, I knew a lot of people, including people who could help me out in situations like this.

"Jim, heads up, she's on her way," I said to the man on the other end of the line… "Good, please don't lose her," I begged, "I want to have it all pics, sound whatever you can get."

Jim was a private-eye and well thought of by the cops I knew who had recommended him. He wasn't a regular at the club, but he and his wife Marci did drop by now and again. Marci worked at the clinic with Cali, in the office part of it. Fact is Jim Blaine used to be cop, robbery division when last so employed. He knew the game. I knew he'd stay on her tail and find out all he could. My only option now was to wait.

I decided to head out to the Head Trip. I wasn't on duty tonight, it being Saturday, but I needed a drink. Jim would let me know when she got home. I didn't want to be home when she got there. Let her worry a bit, that is if she even cared enough to worry. Okay, again, maybe I was being childish, but I was in the right, damn it! She'd want to know where I'd been, but she could just wonder; I wouldn't be telling her nuthin' until I was ready.

I got a call from Jim at 2:00AM. I asked him to drop by the Head Trip.

"She's on her way home, I followed her till I knew that where she was going," said Jim.

'Yeah, she told me she wasn't going to be too late, so much for her promises," I said. I had to smile, at that; it was a major mistake and she was going to have to a lot of explaining; I wondered what she would say to justify it: a flat tire maybe, right. "Did yuh get anything?"

"Yes, and no," said Jim. "I got a lot, pics, sound; she didn't fuck or suck him, but they made out in the back seat of his car for damn near two hours. And, he did have her top off and his hand up her skirt and all over her tits."

"The audio?" I said.

"Yeah, you came up a couple of times. She told him you were a good husband. He asked some stuff about you, but she cut him off after her asked a couple of personal questions," said Jim.

"Like what?" I said.

"What you looked like. And… " Jim stopped.

"And what?' I said.

"How long your dick was," said Jim.

"What the fuck!" I said.

He's smooth. He asked about that like a joke, so to speak. He also asked if you were treating her right. It was then that she told him that you were off limits. I think she was feeling guilty talking about you. There is no doubt he'd like to get into her pants, but he wasn't pushing it too much tonight. I'd guess you'd want to take measures to see he never does though," said Jim.

"Yeah, what kind of measures?" I said. "Divorce," the emotional bitterness was seeping through my defenses.

"Rick, I guess that's between to you and her. No, I was thinking-well, I was thinkin' you could let me investigate him. He's clearly a predator. I've seen his kind before.

"You know he's a doctor, right?" said Jim.

"Yeah, she told me. I think she's in love with his money. She always was a material girl," I said.

"You goin' home now?" said Jim.

"No, I'm gonna hang out here. I won't go back until morning. I got a cot in the back, I'll just sack out here after Herman closes up," I said.

"Okay," said Jim. "Do you want me to check up on the guy then?"

"Yeah, go for it, Jim. Who knows maybe there's some dirt there," I said.

"Always is, pal, always is."

I woke to the sound of glass breaking. I got up from the cot I'd spent the night on in the storage room, and stretched. I looked out into the empty bar, and I saw Hilda cleaning up some broken glass on the floor. I shook my head. Hilda broke a glass at least once a week. It was almost a tradition anymore.

I stunk, I'd have to go home and shower before I did anything else. That that would mean I would have to face my wife, not an enticing thought to me. Helluva thing, a man being loath to be around his wife. Afraid to let her see his distress. Well, there was nothing for it. At least she hadn't fucked and sucked him, but she would; I was sure of it. It was just a matter of time. And, when it came to that, did it even matter anyway. She'd already fucked me over, and I was about to make a decision.

I'd turned my cell of the night before; I turned it back on now. I had three text messages and four calls from her. Well, to heck with her. I hope she sweat at least a little.

It was on the way home that I decided on what it would be that I would do, at least for the moment. I would simply ignore her and her asshole doctor until I got the hard copy from Jim. I was going to prepare for whatever was going to happen. I was already thinking of divorce. I hadn't quite gotten to the place where I'd finally decided yet, but she'd disrespected me, and next to actually fucking or sucking the guy that was as bad as it got.

I pulled into the driveway and parked. Entering through the front, I heard her puttering in the kitchen. I headed for the stairs, I only wanted to shower, get some clothes and head out again; I still wasn't ready to deal with her. I'd decided to get a room near work and stay the hell away from her away from her. Her antics had soured my stomach and I just couldn't get over what she had done to me; I figured it would only get worse, and I was already a near basket case emotionally.

"Rick! Where have you been," she said, emerging from the kitchen. I just kept heading up the stairs. I didn't want to talk to her, not yet.

"Rick," she shouted. I just kept heading up the stairs.

She followed me and tried to come into the bathroom with me, but I locked her out.

"Rick, we need to talk. Nothing happened. I promise nothing happened," she lied through the door.

I got in the shower and let the steaming water wash over me. It helped reduce the tension that had been holding me in thrall since the night before.

After showering, shaving, and doing my usual bathroom routine, I came out. She was sitting on the bed waiting.

"Rick, you're being childish. Howard and I didn't do anything. You have to believe me," she said.

For the first time since arriving home I had something to say to her. "I do not believe you, Cali. And you disrespected me. I'm having a real hard time dealing with what you and that asshole did to me. He must think I'm a first class wimp. Well if so, he'd be wrong. I've decided to get a room for a few days while I made some decisions. Oh, and tell me, did the length of my cock impress him, or is he a lot bigger than me."

"Huh?" she paled. How-what-what-are you talking about? Decisions? What decisions?" she said, changing the subject.

"What do you care? You made yours without caring what I thought or wanted or needed. I'm gonna do the same. I'll call or come by in a few days. You take care you hear."

"Rick, you're acting crazy. It was just dinner. We didn't do anything bad." I couldn't help it; I had to hit her with something. What's your definition of bad, Cali. Would letting him strip your top and feel you up under your skirt not qualify? Wouldn't any of that qualify as being bad? Tell me, I'd really like to know." She sat stalk still and in shock.

"How…"

"Shut the fuck up, Cali. And get the hell outta here while I get myself together. The sight of you makes me sick!" She started to sob, but she got up and left me alone. I hated hitting back at her like that, but what the hell; she'd done worse to me.

I continued to dress; and then, I packed my old military duffel bag and headed downstairs. She was waiting downstairs for me.

"Rick, I can explain. Please, if all of our years together, our children, mean anything let me have this one chance to explain," she begged.

"No," I said. And I left.

I took a room at the Round Tree about a half mile from work. It had the advantage of my being able to walk to work unless it was promising rain, so I did all the following week.

Away from the house I concentrated on my workouts; it helped me control if not totally eliminate, the emotional pressure I was under.

Cali didn't wait for me to call me; she called me every day at work, and I took her calls, but refused to talk to her about anything substantial. So far she had not apologized or promised to stop seeing the asshole. She just kept saying it was all a mistake and that she could explain. Yeah right, I thought.

On Friday I got a call from Jim. I told him to come by "my" office.

"Howdy, pard," he said.

I smiled and waved him to a chair. "Whatcha got?" I asked.

"Well, I don't know if you know it or not, but he's a plastic surgeon. But, he evidently is not a real good one. He's here because where he came from they're looking for him real serious like," said Jim.

"I don't understand," I said.

"He screwed up several women's face lifts, and charged them a bundle to do it. There's litigation brewing for him if they can get him to return, but the odds are that he isn't about to. He'll still lose his old house and whatever goes with it, but that's nothing compared to what they can get him for if he returns and loses the court case," said Jim.

I nodded. "I doubt if Cali will want to hang with him when she finds out," I said confidently.

"I wouldn't think so," said Jim. But, Rick, I have more. She's been having lunch with him every day this week. She looks concerned, but he is doing his best to comfort her. He definitely wants in her pants. He's telling her how sorry he is that you got the wrong idea. He's actually laying the ground work to put it all on you, the blame that is."

"How the hell do you get all of this recorded?" I said, really wondering if not exactly caring.

"They always eat at the same place, and I have directional stuff that picks it all up. A techie friend of mine is the genius behind the miracle of sound," he said, laughing.

That first Saturday since her date, I went home.

I was in the kitchen sipping a glass of merlot when Cali came in. She wasn't alone, and it wasn't her doctor. I stared and she froze. The guy she was with could not be faulted for stupidity; he saw the look on my face and cut country muy pronto.

"Rick," she finally managed as soon as the young man had gone.

"Yeah, Rick," I said, mimicking her. "New boy toy?"

"Rick, he was just coming by to help me with something," she said, lamely.

"Oh, I'm sure," I said. "I should ask where's doctor Howard."

"I've stopped seeing him. Rick, I'm sorry. What we did, and it wasn't all that much, really, was wrong. I don't know how you found out about us making out, but-you were right. I've been talking to Howard, and I told him I couldn't see him socially anymore. I told him we hadn't been fair to you, my husband." I nodded. She at least was telling the truth now; that was a change.

"Rick, Dan really was here to help me with something. Will you help me instead, since you obviously scared him off," she said.

"What this so-called something," I said, laying bare my cynicism.

She led me to the bathroom; it was totally flooded. I went outside and cut off the water. Twenty minutes later I had the problem isolated, and half an hour later than that the plumbing was fixed.

"Nothing like having a man around the house," she said smiling. "Rick, will you come home. I promise to be good to you."

Maybe it was fixing the pipe. Maybe it was her tone of voice. But, for some reason I felt it was time to try and get by her disrespecting me and get on with our lives. There was still a trace of bitterness in the pit of my stomach, but I nodded without smiling.

She came to me, embraced me, and kissed me-on the cheek. I thought that that was significant: why not the lips? I just didn't know what to think of her or us anymore. My stomach, my heart, my head were all in turmoil. Time would tell.

For the next several months things were pretty much normal around the house. Each day we got up, went to work, came home, and maybe twice a week we got it on sexually; well, that was better than it used to be. We did still talk about some of our fantasies, but we talked about them as fantasies, not things that were likely to ever happen. We did it, the talking, to try and spice things up a little. We had, again, in the past done some light role playing; but now we were at times even considering each other's darker thoughts and day dreams. Even with all of that, and most of it was stimulating for the both of us, I was fearful that sooner or later something had to give. And it finally did.

One day she really got to me.

"What's the matter big boy? Still jealous of Howard?" she said. I had been having episodes of depression since the blowup, and every once in a while it really had me down. She wasn't stupid. She knew the incident was still on my mind, sometimes even when we screwed. "I thought by now we could have put that little incident behind us."

I looked at her with bitterness in my eyes. "Little incident?" I said, gnashing my teeth.

"Oh my, you still are jealous, aren't you. Rick, let it go. I shouldn't have gone out with him. I'm sorry I upset you so. Really. Can't you just accept my apology? I promise, that from now on, baby, anything I do you'll be right there with me, no more leaving you out. I know now how big a mistake that was, and I am truly sorry. Forgive me, okay? Please?"

I still hadn't said anything. Something she'd just said left me feeling uneasy. What did she mean by, "… anything I do… "? I decided I was probably reading more into it than was meant, but I felt uneasy all the same. Truth told, I hadn't felt relaxed even one day since coming back.

"I guess," I finally said without enthusiasm. I could see she was feeling concerned at my tone. I decided she really had not realized how big a thing it was for me for her to go out with someone else, an old boyfriend, and cut me totally out of the equation. But there was something else too, something she wasn't telling me.

I had a premonition that something new and not good was in the air; I just couldn't guess what. As I soon discovered, I didn't have long to wait long.

Saturday came around, as it has a habit of doing, and I was off. Cali was in a jovial mood. I was getting ready to cut the grass and putter around in the yard.

"Honey, we've not gone anywhere in a while; let's go out tonight," she said.

"What did you have in mind," I said, not really feeling like going anywhere.

"I don't know, dinner and dancing maybe," she suggested.

I looked at her as though she had an agenda. She picked up on it.

"Honey bear, it'll be just you and me. Or, we could invite the Blaines," she said, with confidence. "We need to do something to get out of the house once in a while. If you don't like my suggestion, I'll listen to whatever you'd rather do." That got me. At least she was giving me a choice. Ha! I shoulda known better.

When Cali came down stairs, after having taken twice as long as usual to get ready, I was stunned. She on the other hand was just flat out stunning. She wore a low cut black sheath, no bra, and if I was any judge, no panties either. Her makeup was flawless, and her ruby lips so inviting that I couldn't resist. I grabbed her and kissed her so hard I was afraid I'd hurt her.

"You look amazing," I said, in a voice choked with emotion. Maybe after tonight, I thought, I could finally relax.

"Thanks," she said, "I kinda gathered you thought I looked all right." She was smiling broadly at my exhibition of passion. "You look pretty good yourself, mister." I knew I looked okay, but not as good as her, not even.

As we entered the Cloister, an upscale night club catering to the professional set, I saw several faces I knew from the Head Trip. I shook hands with them as we passed to our table following the maître d'.

The food was good and our conversation light as we ate and watched couples begin to filter out onto the dance floor. The band had been playing mostly romantic slow songs until the dinner hour began to wane. Soon there were some fast songs interlaced with the romance. I asked Cali to dance. The eyes of a dozen men appraised my date, as we passed their tables; I was feeling very proud.

We got through two fast songs and two slow songs before Cali started getting a lot of attention from the unattached males in attendance. For the next two hours she was pretty much monopolized by would be suitors; I managed only one more dance with her during that time, and it was a fast one, so we couldn't really talk. I was not real happy.

Finally, looking winded, she came back to the table with a smirking cowboy in tow. I didn't like the look of him, and that uneasy feeling of months before returned with a vengeance. I knew my face had darkened. She didn't see it.

"Honey, this is Mel Cort, he's a doctor at the clinic," said Cali happily. "I've asked him to join us. You don't mind, do you honey?" she said. The good doctor was already seating himself, so I didn't bother to answer; Cali picked up on it, the good doctor pretended not to. Reaching across the expanse of the table, he offered me his hand. I shook it.

"Nice to meet Cali's husband, finally," he said.

"You too," I said, feeling I had to say something even though I didn't really want to.

The next twenty minutes were filled with light conversation, mostly about Dr. Cort's skill as an internist. I think I may have gotten in three words edgewise during the period. I saw the band was about to strike up after a short break, and I asked Cali if she'd like to dance.

"Oh, Rick, I promised this dance to Mel. You don't mind, do you honey?" My face must have fallen a foot. Hurt didn't even begin to describe my feelings.

"What!" I said a little too loudly. I sank back into my seat feeling embarrassed. Having no real choice, I forced a smile. "No, of course not, but save some for me, okay?" I was trying to save face and doin a poor job of it.

She gave me a concerned look, but recovered almost immediately. "Of course, dear. Love you," she said, wrinkling her brow as she said it. With that she let herself be drawn onto the dance floor while I continued to sit and brood.

For the next 45 minutes the two of them danced and talked and laughed and never left the floor. It was almost 11:00PM, and I was thinking getting my wife and leaving. I was jerked out of my reverie by a female voice coming from behind my left shoulder.

"Hi, Rick. Not working tonight?" said the woman.

"No, I always have Saturday's off Sally. You should know that by now," I said smiling; Sally was a regular at the Head Trip. "Say, you wanna dance?"

"Why yes as a matter of fact. I was coming over to ask you," she said.

As we adjourned to the dance floor, I saw Cali returning to the table with her new good doctor. I decided to ignore them.

"I noticed that guy monopolizing your honey," said Sally as we danced to a slow one. I pulled her in close.

"Yeah, whaddya gonna do when your wife is miss popularity," I said.

"Why dance with other girls," she giggled. "You know, get a little revenge!"

"Not my style, Sally. I'm dancing with you because I want to dance and she's been busy that's all," I said.

"Well, good; I'm glad your motives are pure," she laughed.

We danced three in a row the last one fast, and then I returned her to her table and made to go back to mine. My wife and her friend were laughing and carrying on as I approached. The smirk, and that's the only way to describe it, on the face of my rival was very provocative. Cali seemed nervous. I got mad.

"Is there some reason for that smirk, Mel baby," I said, as I took my seat.

"Huh?" he said suddenly losing his smirk.

"No-well-I-I mean… " he stuttered.

"Well, then lose it," I said. I had decided I didn't like him, and I wasn't going for the intimidation stated or unstated.

"Rick! Have you lost your mind," asked Cali.

"Not yet, but give me time," I said. The good doctor was trying to figure out what to do. For my part, I was feeling good.

"Rick… " Cali started

"Look, Cali, whatever it is. I ain't goin' for it, so you save it too. Now, you wanna dance?" I said daring her to refuse. But, she dodged the question.

"I saw that you were doing all right with that other woman," she retorted. "I'm sure you're too tired to dance with me."

"Yeah, Sally's nice. How about you?" I asked her back. I haven't seen much of you tonight-I couldn't resist the jib.

"Rick?" She clearly was concerned about my obvious upset.

She was sitting closer to him than to me; I didn't like it. I decided to call her on it. "Cali why don't you sit over here by me. Everybody's going to think you're with the good doctor instead of me," I said, smiling. She jerked back and looked embarrassed.

"Rick, that's not a very nice thing to say. It's uncalled for, really" she said. "What's gotten into you!

"I'm sorry, Mel, my hubby gets a little possessive from time to time. But, I think it's cute," she said trying to save the situation.

"Sorry," I said. "Didn't mean to embarrass anybody." But she didn't shift her seat or move any closer to me. I just stared at her.

The conversation died at that point. Everybody began sipping their drinks. I knew something was about to happen.

"Rick, can I speak with you for a minute?" Looking at Mel, she said, "Mel will you excuse us?" I was sure she was going to pin me about my impolite comments. But if so, she was in for a shock.

"Certainly," he said, no longer smirking.

He retreated to the bar, but not before giving what I could only describe as a loving smile and a gentle touch to Cali's shoulder as he did so. She gave him a weak, and I thought uncomfortable, smile in return. I knew that whatever she was about to say was not going to be good, at least not for me.

"Rick, Mel, Dr. Cort-well-we've been talking," she started.

"Yes, I know, I have seen a lot of you tonight; just from a distance," I said. "You've hardly said word one to me for half the night, Cali"

"Rick, that's not true. It's just well, I need to be polite to the people I work with. I know you understand, honey," she said. I didn't, but I let it go for the moment.

She continued. "Yes, well, you know how you and I are always talking about spicing up our sex lives?" she said.

"Yes," I said tentatively. My eyes were narrowing and my fists were clenching. She noticed.

"Oh, it's nothing bad," she said hurriedly. "Oh my gawd! You were thinking I wanted to go off with Mel, Dr. Cort, and leave you here. No, no, it's nothing like that," she said, trying to mollify me. Why did I still feel that the other shoe was about to drop. Well, maybe because it soon did.

"Anyway," she said, as she seemed to think she'd relaxed me some. "Mel and I, well, we thought that you'd be interested in maybe doing a threesome!"

I think my mouth was hanging open. No, in fact I know it did. Certainly I had no words-none.

"It wouldn't be like last time, honey bear. I mean you'd be right there. That last thing with Howard was a huge mistake on my part. I know it, and that ain't happenin' again," she laughed nervously. We'd all be having fun together. Don't you think that that would be hot!" she said. She said it with so much enthusiasm that I'm sure she figured that I'd be thrilled with their idea.

"No," I said.

"No what?" she said.

"You know what," I said.

"Honey, it would be fun. Thrilling for you as well as me. Think on it for a moment. Once you've had a chance to think on it, I know you…"

"Let me see if I can picture it for a moment," I said. "We'd all be naked right?"

"Well, of course," she giggled.

"And who'd get to fuck you first," I asked, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Well, I think maybe we'd let Mel-I mean with your okay of course…"

"So I'd be left with sloppy seconds, right?" I said.

"Rick, you're not thinking of this right. It'll be fun. I know you'd love it. Rick…"

"Shut the fuck up, Cali. I ain't sharing you with him or anybody else-ever! And tomorrow you are quitting your job at that little Peyton Place you call a clinic. No ifs, ands, or buts; got it?"

"Huh? Quit? What do you mean? I thought that we-I mean you and I-we could spice-"

"No. And if he comes back here to this table, I will kick his pimply ass from here to the Sunda Strait." I was smiling but the smile was not of the benevolent variety.

Now it was Cali's turn to have her mouth hanging open. She finally found her voice. "Honey, I didn't want to-I mean I didn't mean to upset you. I thought that, you know to spice up our sex life. I mean we've talked…"

"Shut the fuck up. It ain't happenin', get it!" I saw good 'ole Mel watching us from the corner of my eye. He looked uncomfortable. I knew he was weighing the wisdom of returning to the table and helping Cali make her pitch.

So that Cali could see and not mistake my meaning. I looked straight at the asshole and slowly shook my head in the negative. He started to return to the table, and I slowly and deliberately and threateningly raised my hand in a stop right there gesture. He retreated back to the bar. I turned back to Cali. "Tomorrow, you resign without notice. Tomorrow, no discussion."

Cali was upset now. "Rick, you can't make we quit. I've worked there for ten years. I need the job. I have duties, responsibilities-"

"Yeah, and number one among them is me. You seemed to have forgotten that," I said. "I don't know what's gotten into you recently, Cali, but I don't like it, or the new you, at all. Get a grip or get out."

"Rick, I…"

"I asked you before, and I'm asking again, do you wanna dance? You've avoided dancing with me most of the night, and I don't mind telling you it's hurt me, Cali, a lot."

"Rick-I don't feel-"

"Then to hell with you. Dance with the asshole at the bar. You may be living with him pretty soon anyway," I said. I stood, picked up my double vodka, downed it, threw a fifty on the table, stopped picked it back up, and walked out. Her new boyfriend could pay. And, she could find her own goddamned way home.

Cali must have decided that she did feel like dancing because she didn't get home till after 2:00AM. I heard her talking to someone at the door when she came in. I couldn't tell if it was man or woman, but I was betting it was good 'ole. Dr. Cort.

Whatever, she came into the room pissed. "Do you have any idea how embarrassed you made me feel?" she demanded. She'd surprised me. While I hadn't slept well, she didn't know that, and she had just laid into me without regard to whether I was sleeping or not.

I rolled over and looked straight up at the ceiling. "Oh, you mean embarrassed like you embarrassed me by ignoring me most of the night? Something like that?" I said, matching her mood. "Fuck you, I'm leaving. We're done, Cali; I won't be back."

"What do you mean done? What are you doing?"

"Give it a rest, Cali. I will be out of your hair in a few minutes-forever!"

I packed while she raved. If she cared that I was leaving, or even believed it, she didn't let on. Done packing, I looked at her. "You sure are pretty. I'll miss what we might have had." I turned and left. She came to the banister at the top of the stairs and watched me leave; she said nothing.

I headed for the Head Trip. I'd shack up there till morning. I would find something more permanent then.

I got a text message just as I was about to sack out: "Good riddance." Well, that pretty much said it all. I actually slept like a baby.

Monday morning I got ready for a long day. I called the bank and cancelled our common cards. I had two of my own and so did she, so there would be no inconvenience there. I went and cashed out my CDs and half of our savings. The Checking account only had about $1000 in it; she'd need that to pay the utilities and the TV bills when they came due, so I left it alone. Around noon, I called a friend of mine who owned a nearby motel and got myself situated with a room for the next month; I'd be looking for a more permanent place to land during that time; I had two daughters to think about, and I need a large enough place for them to camp if they so chose. By three I was on duty and trying to forget my personal problems at least for the duration of my shift. I was worn out; the events of the previous twenty-four hours had taken their toll. I was looking forward to getting some sleep.

Two days later, Wednesday, around 6:00PM, I was wiping down the bar. The initial after-work crowd had settled down some and those who'd be staying were about to the point of getting to their second rounds.

"Hey, Rick, how about a refill on this yellow pepsi, man," said Benny Holtz.

"You got it, Ben," I said. I poured him a fresh lager and took it to him. Benny was a lawyer, and a good guy. Did corporate stuff mostly, or so he'd said about three hundred times. He was single. Had been for nine years. Told me his first go around with matrimonial bliss had soured him permanently. After nine years of singularity, I guess he had some credibility on that score. His wife had left him for a doctor; I recalled that now and empathized with him.

"Hey, Ben, didn't your wife run off with some doctor?" I asked.

"Yeah, Boze or Bosch or something like that," he said.

"Well, you and me have something in common; then, I guess," I said.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, my wife is trading up, I guess. Came to a head Saturday night," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, man. I know it's hard when stuff like that happens. Been there, like you say.

"You guys have been married forever, haven't you?" he said.

"Yeah, eighteen years," I said.

"Geezsus! You must be going through hell," he said. "You gonna cut her loose?"

"Divorce her?" I said.

"Yeah," he said.

"I don't know, Ben. I don't figure I'll hurry it. Let her do it and do the payin'; she's the one with a new love interest," I said.

Just as I started to float up the bar towards the other customers, she came in. She was gorgeous. She looked like she was planning to go out on a date.

She approached the bar and stared at me. Her look could best be described as frustrated.

"Cali, I'm at work. I wouldn't be bothering you at your clinic," I said. "Kindly leave."

"No, Rick, not until you've listened to me," she said.

I was trapped, I sighed. "What'll you have?" I said. "Oh, and you look great by the way. Got a date?"

She looked at me quizzically. "Oh, a white wine would be good," she said. "And, no, I'm not going out. This is for you. I was kinda hoping we could get together after while, you know… " I poured her drink and ran the bill for her to pay for it and put it in front of her. She looked pissed, but she pulled a ten out of her wallet and laid it down, no threw it down, on the counter. I took it to get her her change. Returning with her seven dollars; she took the money and shoved it all in the tip jar to her left.

"Thanks," I said.

"Now, can we talk," she said, ignoring my heartfelt gratitude for the seven bucks.

I sighed yet again, "I guess, but then you gotta get outta here. I have to work for a living," I said.

I motioned to Hilda, who was working overtime, to cover the bar for me.

I poured me a cup of iced tea, my usual on duty drink, and led her with her wine glass in hand to a table near the back. "I don't have forever, so get to it," I said. "You got ten minutes."

"Rick, we have to talk you and me. I mean really talk. This thing is getting away from us. I sat alone these last nights wondering what I'd done to piss you off like this. Every time I think about it I come up with something I did that hurt you. I mean first the thing with Howard. Then thing the other night with Mel Cort. But, I don't think it was what I did so much as what I didn't do. I didn't consult you first," she said.

"Really," I said, "you don't think it was anything you did?"

"Yes, I mean no. I mean it is what I didn't do. I didn't talk things over with you first. That was the biggee. If I had, all of these problems would have been non-issues."

"Non-issues. Well, let me see if I can clarify a couple of things for us, okay?" I said.

"Yes, of course. That's why I came, so we could clear the air a little bit, and maybe get us back on track as a couple," she said.

"Okay, good. Now, if you had talked to me first about dancing all night with Mel and ignoring me, what do you think I should have said or felt," I said.

She looked at me as though she thought I wasn't cooperating. But she maintained her self-control and answered me. "That was my fault. I really didn't think. When I looked back on it, I realized that you were right. I did ignore you most of the evening and then got huffy with you when you called me on it. Sorry about that, Rick, I was just being a silly woman. I plead guilty as charged."

"So, you are saying it was something you did, not just a matter of communication with me," I said. I did have a degree in Psychology after all; she wasn't going to get me nodding yes without saying anything that would convince me to do so.

"Yes, I guess that's right," she said. "I have to admit that one.

"But, if I had gone over with you, you know, the acting out of our fantasies; I am pretty sure you would have been into what I had planned," she said.

"What you had planned. You mean all that stuff about it being just us going out on a date. You being willing to let me choose where we would go and what we would do if I wanted. That was all not the truth?" I said.

"Rick, I knew you weren't going to change anything. And, like I'm saying, I should have sat you down and talked it over with you. But oh no, I had to set it up and risk you getting mad at me," she said.

"You haven't answered my questions," I said.

"Okay, I admit it: it wasn't the truth. My heart was in the right place but my head was in lalaville.

"Rick, I know you've haven't been all that happy with our sex lives for a long time now. I want to change that. I want to give you your fantasies. I want to get back in your good graces and give you the love and care and yes the sex you deserve. I've been an idiot, but I intend to stop being one now. Okay? Will you forgive me and come home. I am lonely and needy right now, Rick." She started crying, and my heart strings were being pulled hither and thither.

"A couple more questions, Cali. Did you have any kind of sex whatsoever with Mr. Cort the other night? You didn't get home till after 2:00AM."

"No!" she almost screamed. Calming down, she said, "We talked. I didn't even realize what time it was. He was sympathetic with our problems. He was afraid he'd offended you."

I laughed. "Cali, you know damned well he was treating me with contempt. Didn't you see the smirk on his face whenever he looked at me? He didn't just offend me, he infuriated me! And, he did it on purpose. I'll tell you, he's lucky he still has his teeth."

"Rick, that's wrong. He thought that maybe you were thinking something like that, but he never held you in contempt. He just thinks you're a lucky guy to do the thing you love and-well-to have me.

"And Rick, he's a big guy. Please don't try to fight him. I don't want you to get hurt. Please promise me you won't antagonize him. I love you and I need you not to get hurt," she said. I was laughing out loud inside. I was praying the asshole would try me, just once; if he did I was going to introduce him to places in pain-ville he had never dreamed of.

"And, you believed him? Oh, and thank you for your concern for my health. I promise not to throw the first punch," I said as sincerely as I could.

"Well, yes of course I believed him. I can tell if a man is lying or not; I am a woman, Rick. You guys can't put anything over on us girls that we don't want you putting over on us," she said, giggling now.

I just stared at her. "Cali, what is it you see us as doing, being?' I said. I could see Benny watching us out of the corner of my eye. He was still at the bar too far away to hear anything, but I knew he was an expert at interpreting body language, and he claimed he could lip read with fair accuracy. That was why he was so sought after in industrial negotiations, which he was. I was more than a little interested in what he thought, and I'd know soon enough exactly what that would be.

"Number one, Rick, I see us as together forever. No one between us, nobody taking your place in my heart, and I mean forever. But, for the other, it's just-well-I think we need to get our act together when it comes to the other thing," she said, trying to be tentative and seeming willing to compromise at the same time.

"The other thing being sex, is that it?" I said.

"Yes, Rick, we need to do something. Something non-threatening. Something we could both enjoy. Somebody like Mel…"

"You mean the threesome thing again. Am I hearing you right?" I said, interrupting her.

"Well, only if you agree, honey. I would never try to force anything on you that you didn't want to do. And I would never cheat on you-never!" she said with a little too much vehemence.

"I told you no. Now, are you hearing me or are you going to try to force the issue?" I said. I could see her deflate. I'm sure she thought that she could get me to compromise, go her way. She knew she'd lost that battle, so she was going to try harder to win her the next one.

"Okay, honey, if it is something you just can't imagine doing. I guess we just won't go there anymore," she said. "But, could you give me one thing at least?"

"And what would that be, Cali?" I said, suspicion dripping from my tongue.

"Could you not force me to quit my job? I mean…"

"Cali, I hate the people you work with: Howard and Mel. But, if you promise never to ask to be with them ever-not even on the dance floor-I guess I can give in this once. But, one mistake, one kiss under the mistletoe, one dance at a company party, one private word in a corridor, any consideration for either of them as long as we are married; and it's over between us, Cali, and I mean it."

She swallowed hard. "Okay," she said. I guess I understand. But, really neither of them meant anything to me, and I know that they never meant to come between us, or insult you or any of that. But, I will agree to your wishes under the circumstances." Could I trust her? I doubted it, but after so many years, I guess she'd earned a chance.

"Okay, then. I will see you at home. But, I have to get back to work now."

She came around the table and kissed me, this time on the lips, smiled and left. She turned and looked back at me and smiled as she exited the front entrance.

Back at the bar Benny was giving me the eagle eye. "She's a salesman isn't she? I could read her lips a little," he said. "The question is what product was she trying to deal?"

"She wanted me to give in to having a three-way with one of her co-workers, a doctor by the way. But, she got nowhere," I said.

"But?" said Benny.

"But, I gave in to her on her continuing to work at that miserable place," I said sheepishly.

"You know of course that that was the main product she was trying to sell, right?" said Benny.

"The thought crossed my mind," I said. Benny smiled; he was a lawyer; he loved the intrigue.

For a couple of months things were okay. A little tense in the beginning, but I was sure she was keeping away from the two reprobates that she worked with. And, I had reason to feel confident, at least to a degree.

Marci Blaine, nee Wagoner, was not only the wife of my friend Jim; she worked in the billing department of the same clinic where Cali worked. She saw the doctors and nurses, virtually all of them, on a regular basis. She was also an old high school friend. I'd actually taken her to her prom in her senior year. I had been a year ahead of her, but I'd stopped back at the school one day after grad to get a recommendation letter for a college I was going to apply to, and we'd bumped into each other. She'd asked me to be her date, and I'd accepted. We never made a habit of it, the dating, but we were friends and she'd married a Jim a few years later. I decided to call Jim and ask if I could meet with him and Marci.

"Marci, I am concerned about doctors Mel and Howard," I said.

She snickered. "You have reason to be. They are always hitting on the nurses including Cali," she said.

"So this is nothing new to you then," I said.

"No, but I haven't seen Cali give them any hope, so I just wrote it off," she said. "Jim has told me about some of the work he's been doing for you."

"Well, you know then that they've both tried to work their way into her panties, and I was on the verge of making Cali quit the clinic," I said.

Marci was about to say something, but I held up my hand. "I let her talk me out of it, but only if she completely distanced herself from the two assholes," I said.

Marci smiled knowingly. "And you want me to spy on her," she said.

Rather than bullshit her, I just said yes.

"Not a problem, Rick. But, Rick, I have a bad feeling about this. You have to promise me one thing-ironclad," she said.

"Sure," I said.

"If I find out something bad, you have to promise me that you will at least talk to her and hear what she has to say. None of this male macho stuff. I mean you kicking her ass to the curb without a hearing. Okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"And no killing the guy," said Jim, who'd been listening attentively.

I laughed. "Okay, Jim, done," I said.

"Rick, I hope this all turns out for the best," said Marci, in her most serious tone.

It wasn't for six more weeks that I heard anything substantive from Marci. I'd kept in casual contact with her as I always had with her and Jim, but neither she nor I had brought up our conversation about Marci shadowing Cali even once.

I was doing a double because the early guy was sick so a call from Marci at 5:00PM at the bar got my attention. It woke me up from my fatigue real fast; she'd overheard Mel and Cali talking in the lunch room when she, Marci, had come in for a cup of coffee.

"Rick, I think they've made a date. I heard your name mentioned too, but I couldn't just stand there and listen, so I'm not sure," said Marci. I thanked her and hung up. My stomach started turning, betrayal will do that to a man. There had better have been a life and death reason for the meet up between them or it was over between Cali and me, no more games.

The rest of my shift came and went with me hardly paying attention. My mind was totally somewhere else. I sat in the back room for some minutes before I got me up the will to go home. I was not anxious to face Cali.

At 11:15PM I pulled into the driveway, took a deep breath and went in to the house. Cali was still up puttering around in the kitchen.

"Hi," she said, as I entered. "You look haggard, Rick. Long day?"

"Yeah, I did a double for Colin, he was out sick," I said. I considered calling her on the meet up with Cort, but held my tongue for moment.

She nodded her understanding. I was silent for some minutes as she prepared a snack for us. We used to often have fruit and coffee late at night if we were both still up or not rushing to get to bed. I say "often used to"; I had to think back to the last time; it had been more than a year.

"Sliced oranges and crackers?" I said. It's been a long time. I looked at her suspicion written all over my face I was sure.

"Yeah, it's healthy," she said. "It'll take the edge of our hunger and give us a chance to talk for a bit," she said, smiling and ignoring my look.

Okay, the snack wasn't just to take the edge of our hungers, she had an agenda.

Sitting at the table we talked and nibbled and talked some more. I was smiling inwardly knowing she was dying to get it out, but nervous about doing so.

"Rick?" she said. Here it comes, I thought. "The clinic is having a little soiree this Saturday night. Wanna take me?" she said. "It'll be at the Camelot Inn."

I looked at her. "Dining? Dancing? Socializing?" I said.

"Yes, of course," she said.

"If I take you, do you plan to dance with me at all?" I asked, an edge to my voice.

"I deserved that," she said. "I will save all of my dances for you, Rick. I realize I blew it the last two times."

"Well, okay, I guess we have a date then," I said. I was well aware that something else was in the works, and that the something else would likely include the asshole doctor, Mel Cort. But, I wasn't ready; nor did I have enough information, to confront, Cali, at this point.

She smiled her gratitude. "I'm feeling frisky," she said. "You busy?"

I was horny as hell, and she looked good. "As a matter of fact, I'm free at the moment," I said. She took me by the hand and led me into the living room.

Although I was not keen about having anything to do with the clinic or its functionaries, I was actually looking forward to the soiree, as she termed it. I guess some of Benny's enthusiasm for intrigue and gamesmanship had rubbed off on me. And I was an officianado of Psychology was I not, so the game afoot, I thought, "Cry gawd! for Rickie, England, and St. George!"-apologies to the bard.

Cali began getting herself ready in mid-afternoon. Women, I thought, it seemed to take them forever to put themselves together. But, I realized that I was being hypocritical; the end result was always for us males, so how dare we men have the brass effrontery to criticize the girls' efforts.

The end result of Cali's efforts was almost unbelievable! She wasn't pretty; she was stunning. Her red summer dress, bow in her hair, the black choker, the makeup, all of it was-wonderful. My look must have said so. "Thank you for your obvious appreciation," she said. I just nodded.

I was suspicious, but I just nodded. I was certain she was trying to enslave me, and she was already half way to her goal! The bad news was that any man who tried to dance with her tonight would be in the gravest of dangers from my almost overpowering jealousy.

"I hope I don't have to kill any would be suitors tonight. You are almost too beautiful," I said, only half in jest.

"Again, I'm glad you think I'm pretty," she said. "It's going to be a wonderful night for us; I promise you," she said. "Oh, and I don't mind your jealousy," she giggled, but please don't' assault anyone; I really don't want to have to bail you out." She was laughing now. Cali always did like being the belle of the ball, and I was sure she was going to be exactly that tonight.

We arrived at about 6:00PM. The party room was about half full. The guest list included about 100 invitees, she had informed me, so it figured to be a lot busier before the night got much older.

We were in the middle of our first drink and conversing with Marci and Jim when the good doctor Cort entered with a woman in tow. Good, I thought, he's got someone else to occupy his time; he'll leave me and mine alone.

The party was an hour old and I had danced with my wife five times and Marci once. Jim had danced with Cali twice. Things were going well.

Jim and I were at the bar getting our drinks refreshed when doctor Cort approached me. I was surprised.

"Mr. Wells? Rick?" he said.

"Doctor Cort," I said, coldly.

"Uh-may I speak with you for a moment?" he said.

"I should be getting back. My wife is looking pretty good and I'm afraid I'll lose her if I am away to long," I said, only half kidding.

"Yes, Cali is very pretty tonight. But, I won't take but a moment of your time; I promise," he said.

I set the two drinks I had in my hands back down on the bar, looked him in the eyes, and said, "Okay, speak."

"Yes, well, I just wanted to say, I think we got off on the wrong foot the last time we spoke. I wanted to apologize for everything. I know I overstepped my bounds about the little get together that Cali proposed to me. I mean-I mean I thought that-well-I mean I thought you were into the fun stuff, if that's the right word; or I wouldn't have even considered it," he said.

"That it?" I said, starting to move away.

"Only that I'd like us to be friends," he said. "I know you've told Cali not to talk to me. It makes it a little tough at work, but I have so far been able to deal with it. I mean, she's a top nurse, and I am around her a lot, but we only talk about professional stuff. I mean she's honoring your wishes."

"Okay," I said.

"I-well-I wonder if you wouldn't mind relaxing the rules a little bit. It is awfully uncomfortable at times not being able to even say hello to her," he said.

"I'm not ready to do that," I said. "But thanks for the apology."

"Okay, I understand," he said.

Jim had already headed back to the table, and Cali looked at me quizzically as I came back and set her drink down in front of her. "What was that about," she said motioning back toward the bar.

"Your old would be boyfriend wanted to talk," I said. "Said I had misunderstood him. Wanted to apologize."

"Rick, he wasn't and isn't a boyfriend, old or any other kind," she said.

"Whatever," I said.

"Well, that was nice of him wasn't it, I mean to apologize," she said. "Did he say anything else? You were there for a little bit."

I now thought I knew what the conversation was about that Marci had overheard that day in the break room. Cali had told him he'd have to get me to allow him to talk to her or it would be too dangerous for her to mess with him.

"He said he wanted to be friends," I said.

Cali looked at me hoping I'd continue. I didn't. "What did you answer him," she said.

"I accepted his apology and told him I wasn't ready to be his friend," I said.

"Rick! Can't you be nice. The man apologized," said Cali. I looked her askance.

"Was tonight a set up, Cali. Had you planned for his little apology caper," I said.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" she said. "I didn't plan anything with him. Whatever he said, he said on his own for himself," she said. She was obviously peeved.

"I thought we'd had this conversation, Cali. I will never be friends with that guy-never. The only reason I was willing to allow you to work at that clinic was if you could keep him and Howie baby out of our private lives. That hasn't changed, nor will it-ever. Am I clear?"

"But, he apologized!" said Cali. Jim and Marci had quietly withdrawn to allow us to talk it out. They were returning now.

"He apologized so he could have the opportunity to get into your pants at some point. The choice is still yours, Cali: him or me. Make up your mind."

"Rick, sometimes you are so stubborn," she said between clenched teeth.

"When it comes to who gets to fuck my wife, I am more than stubborn, Cali, I'm downright intractable. And, if he ever does try to get to you, I will unscrew his head from the rest of him," I said.

"Hmmph!" she intoned. "He's a lot bigger than you, Rick, You might not want to try him. I not only do not want to bail you out of jail, I also do not want to be visiting you in the hospital," she said.

"Well, let's just say I'll give it the old college try," I said. Oh, please gawd! I thought, let the asshole doctor try me, I really wanted him to try me.

The rest of the evening went okay. Cali let the problem rest. We danced, conversed with our friends, and I even encouraged her to dance with a couple of young interns whom I had never met, but who seemed harmless and only after a good time.

At home things were a little cool, but we did have sex, and we, or at least I, slept well.

Monday came and I got a call from Marci. She told me that Cali had taken personal leave for the rest of the day. I asked her if she knew why, but she didn't. What she did say though was that Dr. Cort had also taken the day off too, but he hadn't come in at all.

I thanked her and brooded. A coincidence? I didn't believe in them. The shit was about to hit the fan, I was sure of it.

I was home when she got in and she was surprised. "Have a tough day at work?" I asked. Her clothes were a mess and her hair showed signs of an athletic effort.

"Uh-yes," she stuttered. "Uh-what are you doing home? It's Monday, aren't you on tonight?" She was clearly shocked to see me.

"I took the evening off. Personal leave," I said, using the term that Marci had used to describe Cali's leaving early that day.

She paled, but recovered. "You feeling okay," she asked solicitously.

"Yes, I'm fine. I called you at work, but you were out," I lied.

"Uh-yes, I needed to run a few errands," she said. I knew I could nail her right there just asking about the errands, but I cut her some slack, for the moment. I had to know more. I had to know if she'd fucked good 'ole Mel. And, once I did, it was sy-a-fuckin'-onara!

It was an early evening for us and Cali decided to make a major meal for us: beef stew, my favorite.

We yakked and laughed about some things we'd done in earlier years in the marriage. I was feeling good in spite of myself, and even though I'd had a heads up from Marci, I wasn't ready for the punch line that Cali was about to deliver.

We were eating, and I might say enjoying the heck out of it, when she grew pensive. Just as I was wiping my mouth with the napkin she looked up at me and smiled. "Like it?" she said.

"Ha! you know I loved it. You make the best beef stew in the world," I said, meaning it. Like I said, I was feeling good.

"I'm glad you liked it. Beef stew is a fantasy of yours I think," she said, and giggled.

"You could say that," I said.

"Do you-do you-I almost hate to bring it up-ever think about your sexual fantasies anymore, Rick. I mean the ones you used to tell me about when we were doing it?" she said.

"Yeah, maybe, sometimes," I said. "But, not as much as I used to."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You know all of that stuff with those two doctors and all; it kinda turned me off to fantasies in general," I said. I was still thinking about her being absent from work and coming in all disheveled. But, I had decided not to jump to conclusions.

"You know it really shouldn't, Rick. You have as much right to your fantasies now as before those two guys," she said. "I get hot just thinking about the things you used to tell me. I sure wish you would resurrect them for me."

"Whaddya mean?" I said.

"You know, talk about them again. Maybe even consider doing them for real at some point. I'd sure be willing," she said.

"Yeah, I just bet you would be," I said.

"Don't be mean, Rick. I'm just teasing you a little," she said.

"You really want to do it don't you," I said, "I mean have a threesome."

"Not if you don't," she said. "But it is a pretty hot fantasy."

"How do you see it happening, Cali? I'd really like to know," I said.

"You really want to hear?" she said.

"Yeah, I do," I said.

"Well, if it was your fantasy that we were acting out. We'd all meet somewhere and have a few drinks. To loosen up, you know," she said. I nodded. "Then we'd all saddle up and go somewhere for the games, as it were." I just looked at her and said nothing.

"Well, then, me and the other man would take each other's clothes off, but you wouldn't be allowed to, not at first, since you'd be the one to be cuckolded." She was smiling now and watching me to see if I was going to stop her.

"Then, I'd kiss you very sensually, and then make you sit down and tell you not to touch yourself while I let the man do me. Then my man would lay me down and caress me and feel me up and eventually penetrate me. I would be watching you the whole time to make sure you obeyed me about not touching yourself; I mean I'd need to keep you horny, right?" I just continued to look at her waitin' for her to go on.

"Well, after he was done screwing me, I would beckon you with my finger and you would be required to do your duty. You know like in your fantasies that you talked about. But, I wouldn't tie you up like you used to say you'd fantasized me doing to you-unless you wanted it of course. It would be all for you. It's your fantasy even if I do think it's a super hot one too," she said.

"I can see you really get off telling me about it," I said. "But talking about it and daydreaming about it are not the same thing as really doing it," I said, "especially with arrogant assholes like your friends Howard and Melvin."

"Hmm," she said. "Judging by that bulge in your pants, I would say that you're pretty much into it too, fancy pants doctors or not," she said.

"Maybe," I said, "but not with those jerky friends of yours. Not ever!"

"Oh, now honey, don't ruin the mood. This is the first time you've been this turned on in a while and we both know it," she said.

"Just remember what I said, Cali, I'm not kidding." She gave me a look that I couldn't decipher, but I wrote it off to her being satisfied that she'd gotten to me, at least a little bit, and truth told she had-but only a little bit.

What happened over the next weeks was at least partly my fault. I let her think I really did want to be cuckolded. I mean she knew I didn't, but she was sure I'd like it if she just presented it right-and that with or without Howard or Mel. That part of course was her bad; she should have known that both of those assholes were persona non grata as far as I was concerned, and that in absolute terms.

There was a warning just before disaster struck; Marci had given me a heads up that Cali was talking to both Howard and Mel during the week. Things had gotten so good between us, though, that I had decided to let her breaking of our agreement slide. I shouldn't have. I should have been more vigilant, but who could have predicted that my wife would gamble like she finally did, not me for damn sure.

Saturday I was buoyant. My flower beds were blooming, and the dandelions had finally been defeated in the yard. Even Cali was impressed by my green thumb. After dinner, she had sent me to the store to get a few things she said she needed for the next day. It was a set up. When I got back, she wasn't alone.

"Honey, I'm home," I announced from the kitchen while putting things away.

"In here, honey bear, in the front room," she replied, sounding-hopeful. I looked to that as a good sign.

I grabbed a bottle beer and went in. Sitting on the couch with my wife, and with their arms around her shoulders, were both Howard and Mel! When I saw them I froze, words couldn't even begin to describe my state of mind. The bottle of beer was still tilted back, and I was looking at the three of them down the length of the bottle. "What's this?" I said, lowering the bottle and my voice to almost a whisper. "We had an agreement, Cali. What the fuck is this!"

Mel looked at Cali with concern. "I thought you said he was okay with this," he said. "You said you'd gotten his okay. He was ready. You said he was ready!" he said.

"He is, but it's a surprise that it's today," she said. She looked at me.

"It's all for you, Rick. And, both of them want you to know-well, you tell him," she said looking from one to the other of her fellow wishful thinkers.

"Mr. Wells, Rick. Cali told us that you were ready for a-well-some fun and games. But, she has asked us to tell you how sorry we were for treating you so badly before. Please accept our apologies," said Howard.

"Let me say I echo Dr. Colson's feelings," said Mel, butting in.

"No fucking way," I said as I moved slowly toward them. Taking either of them down would be a piece of cake, but the two of them; well, that was iffy.

"Rick, I've decided that we need to break the ice at some point, and tonight is it," she said.

"Without a word to me?" I said. "And you've decided. You're making the decisions now. Is that it?" I said, all but snarling at her.

"Please, Rick! No, we've been talking about it a lot, and I know you want it. It's going to happen. It's for you, only you. And, I know you'll like it. I intend to make damn sure of that," she said. "It's my mission. I'm on a mission here."

"Again, without a word to me?" I repeated.

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd chicken out, or get all huffy about the doctors here. They're just guys who want to be your friend and have a good time. To share a good time with us," she said. It's only sex, Rick, it has nothing to do with you and me or our marriage vows. I mean us as a family. Nothing at all." She had clearly either convinced herself of her good intentions or she had lost her mind, and I was laying my bets on the latter possibility.

I was silent now. I was frothing at the mouth. I just couldn't believe that she was essentially laying down the law to me.

"Rick, you can watch. I mean if you want. I want you to watch. It will be so hot," she said. "It'll make us closer. I mean it's only sex. It's not love. Not love like you and I have, certainly not that," she said.

"And if I say no," I said.

Her look was a mixture of concern and determination. "Rick, you and I and the fellows are going to do it. I know you want it; you're just skittish because of all of the misunderstandings before, the unfortunate misunderstandings. But, we are going to do it. I am putting my foot down, my husband. Please let me take the lead here and show you how good I can make it for you, for us," she said.

My eyes narrowed in hate; I could feel it. I had to get out of there or I would kill them and maybe even her. I didn't say anything else. As I started to leave, Mel apparently decide he was going to stick his nose into the meat grinder. Up t this point, neither he nor Howie baby had been guilty of anything except underestimating me. But, that all changed in an instant.

"You know, Rickie baby, I have bent over backwards to make it right by you, but you are just not going to cut me-us-any slack are you?" he said.

"Not an inch," I said. He moved around me blocking the kitchen exit as I had turned to leave, essentially daring me to try to get by him. In my mind, I was screaming my thanks to the Olympian gods for this opportunity. I would offer up two fatted calves in thanksgiving at a later date, I swore.

"Get out of my way, Mr. Cort or else," I said moving to get by him. He took a swing at me. I easily bobbed under it and stepped back forcing him to step further back into the room. It was then that I felt a sudden rush of pain to my left kidney. The other asshole had sucker punched me in the back. I dodged to my left and a second punch from Howie baby missed and he lunged forward stumbling and effectively blocking the advance of his cohort. At least now, I had the two assholes in front of me. No time to be cute now, not with two to one odds.

As Howie baby was regaining his balance I raised my knee high and drove the side of my foot as hard as I could into the side of his knee of the off balance man. He screamed his agony as he went down like a sack of wet cement, his leg broken. Well, I had been in the army, hadn't I.

Now it was just me and the big guy, and he was both angry and filled with hate. That was good. I, on the other hand, was as cool as could be. I finally had something I could feel good about: the destruction of these who would destroy my marriage. Oh and Cali? Well, I would deal with her after the fact.

Mel assumed a fighters stance and came at me. He was watching my feet since his buddy had gone down that way. "You some kind of karate guy?" he snarled.

I just waited, hands at my side, kinda weaving back and forth. Keeping the body in motion but wasting no energy. I was going to enjoy this. He charged and threw his best shot. He was off balance. I fired three fast shots to his rib cage as he slid past me. He grunted.

As he turned to come at me a second time, I stepped into him with a stunning uppercut which I followed up with at least a dozen alternating right and left hooks to the head and then finished up with a final right cross to the pan of his face. He swayed.

He looked at me with what seemed a question in his eyes; then, he slipped to the ground completely oblivious to the world around him. Blood covered his face and shirt as his nose, now broken, spewed it forth.

Cali was in shock. Her two boyfriends would not be in the mood for sex for a while. She looked at me strangely saying nothing.

"You just couldn't keep your word, could you, Cali," I said. "Well, you can fuck these two assholes forever as far as I'm concerned. Or, you can fuck yourself. I won't be around to interrupt you," I said coldly. "Oh, and you will note, I did not throw the first punch." I looked down at the wreckage I had wrought. Howie was going in and out of consciousness from the pain. Mel was just plain out.

I had gotten myself a hotel room once again, and had ignored the storm of cell phone calls and messages, all but a few from her over the next three days before her unanswered calls ceased.

Problem was I needed clothes again; I had to stop cutting out and not taking things with me. I had had a few things stashed at the Head Trip, but I had to get home to get some more stuff. It was 6:00PM Saturday when I pulled into the driveway. I went in and caught her by surprise.

"Rick!" she almost screamed. "I didn't expect you," she said. "Why didn't you answer any of my calls? I was afraid…"

"I guess not, I guess you didn't expect me," I said.

She stared. She stuttered. "You almost killed Howard and Mel. And, you have nothing to say to me!"

"Fuck no I don't have anything to say to you. You and you alone are responsible for those two guys getting messed up. Oh, and I guess you were wrong about my being in danger if I messed with your big guy, huh?" I said, gloating shamelessly. "Well, at least you won't have the embarrassment of having to visit me in the hospital. That's something, right?" I was rubbing it in, and enjoying the hell out of it.

She looked down. "Yeah, I guess I was wrong," she said. "I had no idea you were that tough. How…"

"Fuck you. Maybe, after all, they're just a couple of wimps that you just thought were tough," I said. "But when it comes right down to it, it just doesn't matter. I mean when a little guy like me whips the shit out of two big guys like them; well, it's pretty obvious that they weren't all that much, I guess." "Yeah, I guess not," she said.

"Rick, I-" I just turned to leave.

It was late in the afternoon, but I gave Ben a call anyway. We set it up to get the divorce rolling in the AM Monday. I planned to take the day off to do all of the right things, financially speaking. It figured to be a busy day.

Two days later, I had a meet up with my lawyer.

"Got all your ducks in a row, big guy," said Ben.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said. "I hate it, but I gotta do it. She doesn't get it. There's no respect for me, none. I can't live like that."

The next day at work the suits arrived, at the Head Trip. I had just come on and was getting ready to tie in another keg.

"You Richard Wells?" asked the suit.

"Yeah, that's me. Can I help you?" I said.

"You're under arrest," said the man, as he flashed his badge.

I was taken aback. I'd laid the two assholes out, but only after being attacked first. I figured the law should have been on my side. They cuffed me and led me out to a waiting cruiser.

The jail was cold. I was told the arraignment would be the following morning. They didn't lie. It was, and I pled not guilty, or rather Ben pled it for me as I stood there cuffed and concerned.

"Bail," your honor," said Ben.

"Ten-K and surrender passport," said his honor, hammering his gavel signaling an end to the proceeding.

I managed the bail. I was out, but for how long was the question. Ben felt I would have no problem proving I was justified morally, but the overkill could be a problem. I'd really put a hurt on Melvin, and Howie baby would be limping for the rest of his life.

I found a place, a small, but pleasant condo complex not too far from work. I moved in as soon as I was able to get my stuff situated. I had a visitor as I hauled the last box up the stairs.

"How are you, Rick," said a soft voice from behind my shoulder.

"Cali. Okay, you?" I said.

"Truthfully, not good," she said. "I'm lonely, my man has gone missing."

"Really, and what man might that be, Cali?" I said.

"You know who it is, Rick. It's you," she said.

"You want what I can't give you, Cali. And you won't give me what I need. So, it's a splitsville," I said.

"Rick-I…"

"Cali, don't make this harder than it needs to be," I said.

She just nodded-sadly.

The divorce action had been set for the following Friday. She would be served at work. I decided to try and make it as painless as possible if she didn't fight me; she went along; the fight had been drained from her, from me too if it came to that.

The papers were signed. Now it was a matter of six months of waiting. It was a lonely time for me. I wondered about her. The upset I was living with did not seem to diminish with time. It was about a month later that I got a call from Ben. He wanted me to meet him at the Cloister. I was working, so I told him I would be there, but late. He said that would be fine.

Arriving, I looked around for Ben. He came up to me. "Come on," he said. His look was serious. I wondered what was going on.

"Why? What's going on?" I said.

He led me to the back and pointed across the dance floor to a woman in a red dress and a tall man wearing dark glasses. It was Cali and Mel.

"I didn't bring you here to make you feel bad, but I figured you'd want to know. Now, you will be able to put all doubts behind you on her ever being faithful. I really figured you had to know," said Ben. "I got pictures too; just to remind you later when you were thinking sad thoughts, and you will."

I smiled, but it was not a warm smile. It was one filled with bile. I was divorcing her, and it was clear she didn't have the slightest care in the world about it. "Well, we are divorcing," I said. "Still you'd have thought she'd wait till the carcass of the marriage was a little colder. "I think I'll mosey over and say hello."

Ben frowned. "You think that's a good idea, Rick. I mean-"

"I'm not going to do anything. If he throws a punch I'll just dodge it and make him look bad. The guy really can't fight. He's just big," I said.

Ben nodded. The music ended, and I made my way to where they were just getting seated again at their table.

"Hello team," I said smiling at them.

"Rick!" said Cali. "I didn't see you here-come in-"

"I'm here with a friend is all, kinda cruisin' the boulevard," I said. "How are you feelin' Melvin?" I was chuckling inside, but I didn't let it show.

He just stared at me. "Now, Mel, you know how Cali is about being polite. Ain't you got nuthin' to say?" I said.

"Not to you, asshole," he said.

My face darkened. "What did you say, Mel?" I said.

He choked back his words and just looked down. He clearly didn't want a repeat of the last time we'd partied together. "That's what I thought. Well, have a good time," I said.

"Rick, please don't start anything. You dumped me. I'm-we're-just here trying to not be depressed," said Cali.

"Whatever, I have no claim on you. I was just surprised to see you is all; I mean so soon. The body of our marriage is not even cold yet, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Again, have a good time." I walked back to where Ben was eyeing us from afar. I could feel Cali watching me as I sat back down at our table. I was feeling good having gotten in some verbal slicing and dicing on her boyfriend; I mean I felt real good.

Ben and I had had ourselves a couple of drinks when I noticed that the odd couple were getting up to leave. Cali shot me a glance but then she was gone. Damn I was going to miss that girl. Divorce sucks as far as I'm concerned: too much psychological investment to have it do anything else.

Ben had been wrong. I still cried and felt sad and wished I could do somethin' to fix everything up. But her disrespecting me had gone way over the top. I couldn't let it go. My days were going to be gray ones for quite a while, maybe forever, I thought.

It took a few more months and then it was final. Ben, appeared for me; I couldn't look at her again, and I was afraid she might be there. Life went on. The pain was duller now, after a year. Wasn't a day go by that I didn't think about her wonder about her, but it was less and less hurtful in absolute terms. I was hopeful that given a little more time they. The memories, would all fade out and become nothing. And, then something happened to make it all come crashing back.

I was working; it was a Wednesday night. She sidled up to the bar dressed nicely but sexily. "Hi Rick. Bye me a drink," she said.

I stared at her as though she were from another planet. I nodded. "What'll you have," I said, furious with myself for giving in to her, but unable not to.

"White wine," she said, "same as always."

I snickered, "Yeah, somethings don't change do they," I said. Her turn to snicker.

"No, I guess not," she said.

"Where's lover boy?" I asked, as I poured myself my usual on duty drink, ice tea.

"He's not here. I told him I was coming to talk to you. He was okay with it," she said.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Rick, he and I-Mel and I-we're getting married. I know, I hurt you bad before. I don't know if my coming here will be good or bad, but I want to always be up front with you in the future. I do not want to be the cause of hurting you again. I don't, I really don't," she said.

I could see she was sincere. It didn't help that she was telling what she was telling me, but I was certain that she was sincere. She was telling me to try and minimize the impact on me. "Thanks, I think I believe you," I said. "Have a good life. Anything else?"

"No, I guess not. I just didn't want somebody else telling you and embellishing it or whatever," she said.

"Cali, I got a question," I said.

She smiled, glad I was willing to converse, I supposed. "Mel, was he really that much better than me in bed?" I felt like an idiot as soon as I said it, but it had been eating at me, and now it was said.

"No, not really. A little different. He's good, don't get me wrong, but in the end, no better than you."

I nodded my understanding. "Thanks," I said, "even if it's not true, I needed to hear you say it."

"You're welcome," she said, "and it is true."

She drank her wine we talked a little and then she left. When I say she left, I mean the state. She was gone and I knew that we were finally over.

It would be a few years before I would see her again.

I was sitting at one of the tables in the Head Trip tilting back a yellow pepsi. Life had been okay for me in the last few years. I'd moved into a nice condo within walking distance from the bar. And, I in fact did walk to work most days anymore. The half mile to and fro was good for me: I had a chance to think and work off a few calories. Not that I was overweight, I wasn't. I still worked out pretty much the same as I always had. I was feelin' good.

Hilda came over and looked me up and down. He sighed. "When are you going to find yourself a woman to take care of your male ass," she said. "It's been several years, now. And, I don't know why, but you look a little pale to me. It wouldn't hurt you to get a little sun."

"Yes, to the last, and I don't know to the first," I said. "Who'd want an old retread like me anyway," I said. "Besides, I've always got you to keep me in line," I said, laughing. "And, oh, thanks for your concern about my health."

"Me take care of you? Yes, well my husband might have something to say about that," she said. "You need your own honey to do the worrying."

"Yeah, well, your hubby's a lucky guy, and I hope he realizes that," I said. "A woman he can trust and pretty too. Who knows, maybe someday, I'll finally get lucky."

"Rick," she said, "listen to me; you have to get out and meet some people. I know you aren't in the pain you once were, but you're not exactly happy either, and you deserve to be, happy that is. Do as I say and get your ass in gear. I mean it." She threw a towel at me as she sashayed back to the bar to tend to business.

I watched her. She was maybe twenty feet from me. I suddenly felt funny. "Hilda-I-something's wrong-someth… " I buckled forward in extreme pain. I light show was going on inside my head. I sagged to the floor and my breathing was labored. I could hear her-somewhat. There was a scream. The light show was diminishing. Everything was dark. Fuck! I was dying-I could feel it…"

The light streamed through the window and blinded me. Light? Sun? Bed? I was in bed. I was in-a hospital room. I tried to recall what had happened. I was in the Head Trip. It was Saturday-wasn't it? I was off. Hilda? The scream.

"He's a wake!" Someone nearby said altogether too loudly. A man and a woman, doctor and nurse? They were around me poking me. Shining lights in my eyes. Feeling me up; that part was nice it was the nurse doing it to my lower belly.

"The stitches are good, no seepage, doctor," said the woman, the nurse.

"Good. But keep him restrained until he's able to understand what's going on. We do not want to see him hurt himself, not after ten hours in ops," said the man, the doctor.

Why weren't they talking to me?

"Oh, nurse, let his wife know he's in and out," said the doctor.

"Yes, doctor," said the nurse.

Wife? What wife? I'm not married. Am I?

I found out later that it was forty-eight hours later that I came out of it. It turned out I had had a ruptured appendix, and it was poisoning me. It had in fact damn near killed me. But, quick thinking by Hilda and Hank saved the day for me. Oh, and my wife? Well guess who.

"How are you feeling," said the new duty nurse.

"Cali! What are you doing here?" I said, completely shocked by her presence and in uniform.

"I work here," she said.

"But, I thought you were in Kansas or Nebraska or some place," I said.

"Kansas City. But I moved back about two months ago," she said.

"Mel?"

"He left me. Found a younger something to play with.

"Rick, I heard you were in tough, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It's the least I could do after everything I did to you. If you want-if you want someone else, I'd understand," she said.

"No, no, it's okay. You're good. I know that. Stay with me if you want," I said.

"I want," she said.

"So, how's life treating you," she said. "Are you remarried?"

"No. I guess marriage just isn't something I can do any more," I said.

"What? Why is that? You're not too old, for sure," she said.

"No, I guess I'm just too hard to please. Anyway, it doesn't matter. You were enough for me. I mean the once was enough," I said.

She raised her eyebrow. "Do you still hate me, Rick? I'd understand if you did. I don't know what I could have been thinking trying to get you into a cuckold situation when you clearly didn't want to."

"I don't hate you Cali. I never did really. You caused me a lot of pain, and it hurt, but I never got to the place where I hated you. Heck, a part of me still loves you. I guess, I always will. Someone once said that every soul has just one love in their life; for me that was you. There won't be another," I said.

"Rick-I."

"Cali, question? Did you tell the doctor that you were my wife? And, if so why?" I asked.

"Yes. I did. I don't know why, Rick. It was an impulse. I felt close to you, and I just wanted-well-I don't know what I wanted. I just did it."

I could have been wrong, but I thought she was beginning to cry, just as the doctor walked in.

For the next week, I was handled with kid gloves by everybody including Cali. It was a strange scene and one that would have been unthinkable to me the week before. But, here was my ex-wife taking care of me and I was loving it.

She came into wheel me out to the lobby on the last day.

"Rick, do you think I could come by sometime and visit. Would that be appropriate?" she said.

I looked her in the eye. "I'd like that," I said. "Why don't you come over on Sunday? I mean if you have it off."

"I do have it off, and I will be there. Lunch?" she said.

"Sounds good," I said.

Let it be enough to say that we are trying to work it out. Remarriage? Maybe. But that would be another story. If you dear reader think it would be a good idea, let me know.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Decision
   Author:Matt Moreau
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.forum.allporncomix.com/threads/matt-moreau-cuckold-cheating-hotwife.1934/
Published:2024-03-05
"Gary, we've talked this over a thousand times, and you know it," she said.

"No, Claire, you've brought it up a thousand times; time and again you've brought it up; but I have never bought into it. You know I wouldn't be able to deal with an open marriage kind of thing; it's not in me, Claire. Can't we just love each other, and make love to each other like normal people do?" I said.

She came to me. "We are normal people, Gary. And, we do make love to each other, wonderful love. But this would be good for you too. Don't you see that? You could have some strange on the side. I could have some strange on the side. It could be intoxicating," she said.

"Claire, I would never cheat on you. Never!" I said. "I don't need strange on the side; you are more than enough for me!"

"It wouldn't be cheating, dear. It would be with my full permission. It would have no affect on us or our marriage or any of it. It would just be fun for the occasional evening out," she said. I thought it significant that she avoided my protestation that she was enough for me. It occurred to me that I must not be enough for her, and the thought hurt.

"Anyway, Claire, no woman would want an old goat like me," I said. "Except maybe you." I looked down and wondered if she cared at all about me sexually anymore. I was mortally afraid of the answer to that question. She saw through me and tried to calm my fears.

"Don't sell yourself short, honey. You are quite a man. A lot of women would be tickled to death to have an evening with you," she said, giggling now. I wasn't laughing; I wanted to cry.

I suppose I should introduce us. I'm Gary Sanders. As you have no doubt gathered, Claire is my wife of twenty-three years. Me? Five-seven, one-sixty, slightly balding, and pushing fifty. Claire: five—five, one-ten, tawny hair and a lot of it, age forty-four but looking thirty-four. I work for a small machine shop and pull down 40K annual; that, plus the benefit package has been enough for us. Claire, for her part, doesn't work, but she's a top notch homemaker; at least she is in my opinion. Oh, and no kids.

Getting a man to fuck Claire would not be a problem. Again, me? Well, it might be a problem, even if I wanted to, and I sure as heck didn't want to. I was frightened; I could see us being hurt bad by this stuff she was talking to me about.

She came and put her arms around me and kissed me. Man, how I loved this woman; I just didn't understand her anymore though. I sure as hell didn't want to share her. "Tell you what, Gary, to make it easy for you in the beginning; I will take it upon myself to get you a woman whenever I get me a man. How would that be? Then these silly insecurities of yours won't even have to be entered into," she said.

Talk about humiliating! My wife was actually suggesting she would get a girl for me, probably one of her friends, I supposed, because she totally knew I'd probably have a tough time even trying to find someone to date me; I was just too ordinary to play these kinds of games. I wasn't going for it.

"Honey, I just can't. I don't even know how to date anymore. And, don't stand there and tell me it's just like riding a bicycle," I said. "I only want you."

"Husband mine. It's time to make a decision here, and I'm making it. You have nothing to fear. I will take care of everything," she said. And, that was that. I continued to plead and beg and even cry for a little while longer; but in the end the decision had been made. For her part, she giggled and comforted me and made a strenuous, completely unsuccessful, effort to allay my fears. Then we went to bed. The sex that night was good and I hoped enough for her, but deep down I knew it wasn't; she was still committed to her fantasies.

******

Nothing was said let alone discussed over the next several days. It was Saturday when she hit me with it.

"Honey, tonight's the night. I want you to dress cowboy style. We're going out," she said. I swallowed and nodded somberly. "Come on, big guy, it'll be fun. And besides, maybe nothing will happen. But if it does, we'll both have a ton of fun and a lot to talk about for quite a while," she said. I was literally shaking in my cowboy boots and I didn't even have them on yet.

She spent half the day getting ready to go out. She spent a significant part of the other half getting me ready. She showered with me, dressed my hair, dressed me, and inspected me. I think she was getting ready to have me douche when she remembered that I was a guy! I was going out, but I wasn't looking forward to it; it was humiliating. Claire, on the other hand, was buoyant.

We arrived at the Hole in the Wall Bar and Grill and dance hall at about eight o'clock. Things were just getting started. We'd already eaten at our favorite restaurant in town, and we, or at least I, was nervous as hell; I did not want to be here.

I had gone to get us our second round of drinks, and I was on my way back, when I saw a cowboy-well, he was dressed like a cowboy-ask my wife to dance. She smiled in my direction, but I just gave her what I knew was a weak and tentative nod. Our table was toward the back of the place, and I lost sight of her for some little time as she did not return for several dance tunes. Finally, she did.

"Hi Gary, sorry I disappeared for so long. Several different guys asked me to dance, and well… Anyway, I'd like to introduce you to Ann."

Greetings done, Ann did her best to engage me in conversation. I finally realized that this was a woman that my wife had talked into being with me for the evening. Claire stayed with us laughing and carrying on, mostly with Ann, until she felt that it was safe enough to leave me to my own devices. I was sure they had had more than a few girls' nights out together.

"Well, Gary, and I hope you don't mind. Claire said you wouldn't mind taking me home when we're done tonight. That's okay, right?" said Ann.

"Uh-sure. That will be fine," I said. I was wondering how my wife intended getting home. But, it soon dawned on me that if she did get home tonight it would be in some other guy's car. I was not feeling very good. Add to that that I already felt like a cheater, nothing Claire had said to the contrary withstanding.

To her credit, I thought, Ann was doing her best to make me feel at ease. "Why don't we get some air?" she said.

"Good idea," I said. We headed outside. Boy, did I need to get out of there. The few glimpses I had had of Claire after she had left our table did not exactly make me feel good.

"Where's your car?" she said. I pointed. "Let's head over there, okay?"

"Sure, I suppose," I said. I didn't know what the attraction of my car was, but at least we'd be out and away from all of the foot traffic milling around us. I really, really wanted to be somewhere else. Ann might have been one of Claire's friends, and she might be into whatever-well-whatever the two of them had cooked up; but I wasn't. I was trying to come up with a way to let her down gently. That soon became a non-issue.

At the car, she suddenly leaned in on me and kissed me. Not a peck on the cheek mind you, but a full blown, down and dirty, you better believe it sensual kiss. For the life of me my johnson was rising to the occasion. She noticed and smiled.

"Looks like you like me," she said, laughing. I smiled back.

"Hard not to," I said, trying to sound casual. I was uncomfortable as hell, but awfully horny at the same time.

"Let's get inside and get comfortable, okay?" She said. I keyed the door to the back seat and let her slide in ahead of me. What the hell was I doing! Hell, I was playing along with Claire's ideas just as she probably knew I would. I wanted to kick myself in the ass.

Soon we were making out pretty good. I still wasn't all that comfortable with the situation, but my little head was making the decisions for me at the moment, and there was no stopping him now. Anyway, Claire'd said it was all right, and she was the boss.

"Why don't we get a little more comfortable," she said. She began unbuttoning her blouse-slowly. I watched spellbound as her braless tits spilled out in full view of my lustful gaze.

"Jesus," I said. "They're beautiful." They were too.

"Well, thank you," she said. She pulled back for a moment and smiled. "Just one pop, okay. And, you need to wear this." She handed me a condom.

"One pop?" I said, not immediately understanding.

"Yes, that's all that's covered for the price," she said. In that moment all interest in having sex with her or anyone else died. I was sick with humiliation and profound sadness. This was no girlfriend of my wife's, as I had supposed. My wife had hired a prostitute to do me and keep me quiet, and as she no doubt saw it, satisfied. My twenty year marriage was suddenly in ruins. But as bad as it was, worse was in the offing.

"Uh-Ann… " I said.

"Hmm?" she said, smiling.

"My wife hired you? I mean paid you to have sex with me?" I said.

She looked at me strangely. "Uh-oh, you didn't know about this did you?" she said.

"No. I think you need to go back inside," I said. I can't do this. "I-I-I have to go."

"No refunds, you understand that, right?" she said.

"Yes, I understand. Please just go," I choked.

"Okay, Gary. I'm sorry. I thought you knew. Your wife said you were cool with it. But you weren't were you? Well, good luck," she said. I was already crying. She noticed and hurried out and away buttoning her blouse as she went.

I drove around for a couple of hours cursing and praying and sobbing like a baby. Finally, I decided to go home and wait for my wife. Pulling into the driveway, I noted the strange car parked out front. I wouldn't have to wait for her; she was already home and not alone.

I didn't try to be quiet, but they didn't hear me. They were in the guest room at the top of the stairs. The door was wide open.

"You're Hubbie is cool with this," I heard a man say.

"Oh yes, he's getting his jollies as we speak," said Claire. "It cost me a hundred bucks."

"What! He can't get a woman without paying for it?" said the man. "How'd he end up getting a class act like you?"

"It would be harder for him to find a woman. He's not what he once was, so I had to take matters into my own hands," she said. "She was a good looking whore though. He should be happy enough when she's done with him." She was laughing now.

"Fucking-A, a wife pimping for her hubby. What a fucking world," said the man, who joined in with her laughing.

They were quiet for a bit. I suppose they were making out, or maybe he was fucking her. I couldn't tell for sure. I was miserable, and misery loves company; so I stayed just outside of the door leaning against the wall being company to myself.

"He got a cock like this," said the man.

My wife giggled. "Not even," she said. "He's got maybe half of what you got." To say I felt low, betrayed, lost would have about half covered the misery I was experiencing at that moment. I should have left and just died. But, I didn't leave and I didn't die. I just stayed there listening outside the room. I hadn't kept track of the time, but it had to have been a good hour before they finally got ready to call it a night. I heard my wife bounce out of bed.

"I think you should go now," she said. "My husband should be home soon, and he's still kinda skittish about this open marriage thing, so I need to be able to coddle him some when he gets here. He doesn't need to meet the man who made a cuckold out of him."

"Sloppy seconds for him tonight?" said the man.

"Absolutely, if he gets anything," she said, laughing. I heard him dressing. Silence again for a moment or two. I assumed he was kissing her goodnight. I took that moment to head downstairs. I went into the kitchen. I turned the light on and got me a beer from the frig. I heard them come down. I was past caring at that point; I was mortally angry.

The man appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. "Oh shit!" he said. He stopped cold in his tracks looking right at me. My now drying tears must have made me seem the ultimate wimp. I appraised him: tall, good looking, maybe twenty-five, and black.

"What?" said Claire, from inside dinette area around the corner. He didn't answer her. She came in. The look on her face was equal parts terror, pity, and shock. "Gary! I-I-we didn't hear you come in," she said.

I just stared at the two of them standing side by side.

"Gary, how long have you been here?" she said. I could see she was hoping I had just arrived.

"'bout an hour and half," I said.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck," she said. She was clearly angry; I assumed mostly with herself. "Gary, I don't know what to say."

"Uh-I'll be leaving now," said her lover. I followed him with my gaze until the front door closed behind him.

"How much did you hear?" she said.

"All of it," I said. "It's okay. I'll be leaving in the morning. I'll sleep on the couch tonight. "Oh, and don't worry, I'll pay you back for the prostitute. We didn't do anything by the way. When she told me that I was limited to one pop and had to use a condom because that was all that was covered by the price; I kinda lost interest. Well, you can imagine."

"Oh my God! She did that, said that!"

"But you got your giant sized cock, so I guess the night wasn't a total loss, at least for you," I said, the bitterness plain in my tone. "You have no idea how humiliated I am, Claire, but what do you care; you got what you wanted. Oh, and don't worry, I won't be bothering you for sex again-not ever. Certainly not for any of your lover's sloppy seconds.

"I thought I knew you, Claire. I guess that as myths go that has to be a biggee," I said.

"Gary, no. You can't leave. I love you. You love me. We belong together. This was just a game. I blew it, but I will make it up to you. I promise," she said.

"With sloppy seconds, Claire? I don't think so." I said. "Good thing we don't have kids, I guess. They won't have to be learning what a loser their father is. That's something."

"Gary, no. I'll shower right now. There won't be any sloppy seconds for you, not ever; I promise. I mean it. We can get by this. We do not have to go that route just because of my stupidity. I mean it," she said.

"Why are we even discussing this, Claire? It is more than clear that you don't love me," I said.

"I do love you, Gary. I-I-thought I needed something more. Maybe some excitement or something. I was wrong. I'll make it up to you right now. Well, I mean after I shower," she said. I snickered.

"What was his name?" I said.

"Who?"

"His name? The guy who just got done fucking you," I said. She started to cry.

She hesitated. I was pretty sure that I was probably going to be getting a version of the truth at best. "Hugh Williams, was the name he gave me," she said. "I don't even know if it's his real name." I nodded.

"Good 'ole Hugh," I said.

I rose and headed for our bedroom. I had to get some stuff. I didn't want to be doing it in the morning. I would shack up here tonight, it was late, and I was just too tired. The morning would be soon enough. Hell, maybe I'd die in my sleep; I would if there were a God.

While I packed up stuff, Claire kept trying to get me to talk. But, I was done talking for the next little while. We'd likely talk again, but not tonight.

******

I awoke to the sound of the alarm on my cell phone. It was 5:00AM. I needed to pee. I headed for the bathroom near the foot of the stairs.

I headed upstairs, I had remembered a couple of things I would need that were in the master bath. The door to the master bedroom was wide open Claire was lying on the floor beside the bed sound asleep. I looked down at the creature that was soon to be but a memory, a sad one, for me. I wondered who her next lover would be. The only thing I did know was that it wouldn't be me.

I didn't leave right away as I had told myself I would; for half an hour, I just stood Around talking to myself… Maybe something in me just wouldn't let me admit that my wife didn't love me. Our parents would be crushed. Mine loved her and hers loved me. For sure that would be a hard nut. But, I was gone by 6:00AM I heard her stirring; it was my signal to go. Helluva thing.

******

I checked into a fleabag hotel not far from work. It had the virtue of being cheap, and since I would be quitting my job and disappearing, that would be a good thing for the short run. I had to leave town; the humiliation she had laid on me was more than any man could deal with. I didn't know who her lover, this Hugh, was-wasn't all that interested in finding out either. But, whoever he was, he had the goods on me, and I was sure the stuff he'd heard my wife spewing out about me and my miniature dick would be news at six o'clock for sure. Anyway, I wasn't waiting around to find out.

I called in to work theam and quit over the phone. My boss was furious. But, I knew I would have been harassed and put down even worse than I already had been if I hung around. She was sure to come after me; I mean I paid the bills didn't I. Well, I may have been her cuckold, but I wasn't going to pretend I was thrilled by the fact.

I was able to get my final check before the day was out. I'd had to pick it up though. Henry, my boss, had held it over my head forcing me to come in and talk to him. I had, and I explained the problem giving out as few details as possible; he'd been grudgingly empathetic. Anyway, that check and the two thousand I was able to pull from my savings would have to do me until I found another job and got settled, in. I'd left her with the checking account, the rest of the savings, and the house; but apart from that we were quits. Divorce? Not on my account. Why bother. I wasn't planning on making the same mistake twice. If she decided she wanted to cut the cord; then she'd have to do the dirty work and pay the lawyer.

I got lucky less than two weeks after I left: I was hired on in the next township over from our town. The job was a little different than my old one. I would be repairing machines instead of running them. Billings Custom Jobbers was a large company and happened to have need for someone with my experience. I knew the lathes, drill presses, the whole schmear; hence, my new job description; pay was almost the same, and there was just me to support now. It was the nights that were bad. All I could think of was my ex-wife, that's how I thought of her, and the things she'd said about me. Okay, I was bitter.

******

"No, Hugh, we have to cut the cord here. My husband's left me, and I'm not sure I will even ever see him again. I can't risk playing house anymore. I really can't," said Claire.

"Can't you catch him at work?" said Hugh.

"He quit yesterday. He took money from the savings and has just disappeared. His boss has no idea for where. He could be anywhere," she said.

"You said he was cool with it, Claire, what changed?" said Hugh.

"I fucked up. The woman I set him up with to pacify him was a hooker, like I said. When he found out…"

"Oh shit! He found out; I mean he didn't know! God, I feel for the guy. How fucking humiliating," he said.

She looked down. "Yes, I guess it was. I can't believe I was that stupid. Anyway, you and I have to cool it for a while."

"Does he know who I am?" he said.

"He knows your name. He thinks you're just some guy I picked up in the bar," she said.

"Yeah, well that's true isn't it. That you picked me up in that bar a year ago is only a detail, right?" he said, laughing. "Why are husbands always so fucking clueless?" he said.

"I tried to get him involved for the longest time," she said. "Finally last week, I made the decision and kinda forced him to go along with it; now it's blown up in my face. What a mess."

******

It'd been a year since that night. I was working and I was drinking, and I was still sad as hell. I was discovering the reality of just how hard it is getting over one you've invested so much in. Psychologically, I wasn't ready for singlehood.

I spent most of my evenings and days off at The Tuna: a sawdust joint with a couple of mature, but cute bartenders. If there was a definition of MILF, Samantha McGovern was it. Five-six, B-tits, and a triple A-plus ass. Her partner in crime was Joy Montrose: short, pleasingly plump with a superior rack. And, yeah okay, I had asked each of them to go out more than once. Results? Zero. One can imagine the state of my ego; it twern't real good.

I looked at the calendar on the wall behind the bar. It was Friday evening all right, and I was sittin' in the bar, again, when she plopped down on the stool beside me. I didn't recognize her at first, but she looked familiar. She just smiled.

"Ann." she said.

"Ann? Who-oh my. The pros-girl I almost had a date with," I said, trying to salvage the moment. "What in the world!" Well, I was surprised.

"The sheriff in the last town gave me a choice, so I live here now," she said.

"Oh, and the name's Abigail, Abigail Ross, I mean my real name," she said. "You're here, so I'm guessing your marriage crashed and burned. Am I right?"

"You might say that," I said. "I have to ask. The bar isn't crowded right at the moment. Why next to me? I still don't…"

"Pay for it?" she said. I didn't say anything, but my look was a definite affirmative. "I'm not working tonight."

"But, you're… " I started.

"Still a lady of the evening? Yes, of course. It's a living," she said. I turned back and stared at her features in the mirror behind the bar.

"What? You're too good to talk to me?" she said. I turned again to look her up and down. She looked nice in her little pink sundress.

"Of course not, but why would you want to talk to me? I ain't got nothing to give you," I said. "Oh, and you do look very nice." Well, she did.

"Well, I am kind of an expert when it comes to people, if you will; shoulda been a damn psychologist, actually. You look lonely. I'm hungry. Maybe we could go get something-you pay of course," she said, laughing.

"You that hard up," I said.

"For a date? No. For cash? Yes. It's been a little slow," she said.

I threw a ten spot on the bar, stood, offered her my arm, and we left. I figured at worst I'd be hearing an interesting story. And a story I got!

"You order for me," she said. I had the feeling she didn't want to offend me by ordering something too expensive.

"Abig-Can I call you Abby," I said.

"Sure, no problem, a lot of folks used to," she said.

"Abby, you can order anything you want. I make enough to buy food for us," I said. She studied me for a moment.

"Okay, then; the sirloin." It was more of a question than an order, but I nodded to the waitress who was writing it down.

"Double that order," I said. I ordered the appropriate wine to go with it.

"You don't have to go broke over me," she said.

"Abby, what's the matter? You okay?" I said. "A girl that looks like you should have guys fawning all over themselves to serve you and buy you sirloins. What's the matter?"

"Just life," she said. "I'm a fucking whore-that's redundant isn't it-I'll probably end up with some disease or other and broke to boot. Like I said, just life."

"Quit this shit your doing and get a job. You're obviously literate; be a secretary or something," I said.

"I have a record, Gary. People don't hire secretaries with records," she said.

"Prostitution?" I said.

"Well yeah," she said. "What else." I didn't know her; she was instrumental in destroying my marriage-though not at fault per se; she was next to desperate; and I was a man, my job to help a damsel in distress-right?

We talked about her problems and mine for an hour as we ate and drake the red house wine that proved to be not too bad.

"You still love her?" she asked. I sat back wiping the last of the steak sauce from my lips.

"On some level, yes. But, it's immaterial; she doesn't love me; that's clear," I said.

"Why doesn't she love you?" said Abby.

"Don't know, really. The malaise of married life I guess," I said.

"Women, Gary, as they make it to middle age, start to doubt themselves. I'm thirty-nine. I don't feel as self-assured as I once did, even a few years ago.

I refuse to use the term 'mid-life crisis,' but I suppose it is accurate. Does she have a boyfriend she cuckolds you with?" she said.

"No, I don't think so. I guess I am a technical cuckold on account of that one night; the last night of our marriage, or at least of our living together," I said.

"You're not divorced?" she said.

"Don't know for sure, but I haven't received any papers, and I didn't start the proceedings," I said. "So, I'd guess not. She could have found me easy enough if she wanted to: social security number, credit cards and stuff. Wouldn't have been too hard; I mean if she wanted to."

"Ever thought about going back and talking to her, I mean now that it's been so long?" she said.

"On and off," I said. "But, I guess I don't have the guts." She smiled at that.

"I'm betting it's the same for her," said Abby. "From what you said tonight she's likely stressed the hell out over all of this and wishes that she had the guts, as you say, to do something positive. You should man-up and give her a chance. Hell, you've already been humiliated beyond the pale; what's little more humble."

I eyed her thoughtfully. "I don't know. If I found her with another man, I don't know what I'd do. The image of a thing like that would kill me."

"I could make a call," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"The sheriff that kicked me out of town?"

"Yeah?"

"He's my brother. He's ashamed of me, but he loves me. He made me leave because of the shame I'd brought on our family when I was arrested. My six months in jail did it for him. He almost rode me out of town at gunpoint," she said.

"You're brother?"

"Yes, he's a cop. Kinda high up too, I guess."

"Why couldn't he have seen to it that you got a get out of jail free card?" I asked.

"He has in the past, but this last time: well, a couple of reasons. One, it was my third arrest. Two, he wanted to teach me a lesson. The judge who got my case had the same idea," she said. "Anyway, I might be able to find out a few things about your wife's situation if you care."

I didn't say anything. I just looked away. I didn't want her to see my eyes misting over. I thought about Claire every day, but for some reason, Ann, I mean Abigail, bringing her up was different. Abby was sure right about one thing, I had been and remained, humiliated beyond the pale.

After dinner, I had taken her home and she had given me a sympathetic look. "I'll call Merle in the morning," she said. "Relax, you're certainly going to be no worse off than you are now, and maybe you'll be better off."

She'd asked me in for a cup of tea, but I'd demurred. I needed time to think. Meeting Abigail was almost too unbelievable to be believed, but it had happened. Helluva a coincidence. The odd thing was that I kinda liked her-as a woman!

Thinking about her, I assessed the situation. Here was a small woman, a little on the short side at maybe five-two. Her brown hair was middle-of-the-back in length, fluffy, and wavy. She had nice breasts and a great looking butt. I could imagine that she could have brought a high price on an exclusive call girl market. So why, I wondered had she gone the way she had. If any kind of a relationship between us were to ensue, I'd be asking her about that; it didn't make sense, but then, my assessment was based only on what little I knew, and that was little.

******

She watched as her Hugh as he lay sleeping. He snored lightly, did Hugh. Well, he'd had a hard night fucking her; she could understand the deep sleep that possessed him. Why him and not her husband was the question that continually assailed her. But she knew: it was simply a matter of cock size and the skills that went along with it. Hugh had both size and skill; Gary had neither. Hugh was an understated seven and a half; Gary was an overstated five and a half. Hugh could go ten minutes nonstop; Gary, had no endurance, and blew his load uniformly in less than two minutes. There was no comparison.

Still she loved Gary and did not love Hugh. Hugh was an arrogant asshole. Oh he had his charming moments, but mostly he was self-centered and generally selfish, except in bed; there, he seemed to get it, what a woman needed.

He stirred on the bed. She looked over at him once again.

"Hey there woman, got breakfast ready yet," he said. He wasn't kidding.

"It's your turn to make the meal," she said. I did put the coffee on." He grimaced.

"Okay," he said. "I'll be down to take care of it in a minute; just let me grab a quick shower.

She was waiting for him when he showed up fifteen minutes later. She stirred the whitener in her coffee, as he pulled out the makins of breakfast.

"You look tired," he said, as he worked at the cooking.

"No, just thinking," she said. He stopped and looked at her seriously.

"Is he ever going to be history with you, with us? He dumped you a year ago. He's made no attempt to contact you or to apologize for his sudden departure. He's over, Claire; I'm your man now. You gotta divorce the guy and marry me. You know it and I know it," said Hugh.

"Hah! Him apologize? We killed his heart, you and I, why should he apologize to me," she said. "Besides, I won't marry you till you get a job; which is another thing Gary has over you; he supported me; I support you."

"Yeah yeah, Even so, if he were a man; he'd understand, and at the very least let you explain, and give you another chance. He ain't no man," said Hugh.

"He is a man, and I wish you'd stop talking smack about him. He never did anything to you. You on the other hand have commandeered his wife's body." said Claire.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You still love the-oaf," he said.

"Thank you," she said.

"Claire?" he said.

"What?"

"You have to start thinking about divorce. The lawyer can find him and have him served. I love you too, and you need to at least consider that. Right?" he said. She looked at him and nodded.

"Yes, maybe," she said. "I'll think about it. And, while I'm doing that you get a job."

******

"So Merle, can you do it?" said Abby. He looked at her and smiled.

"You love this new guy, huh?" said Merle.

"Not sure. Maybe. I like him. We haven't done the dirty yet, but well, we haven't yet," she said, stopping short of saying anything else. "Anyway, so can you?"

"Check up on her? Sure. But, I won't be havin' the department involved. I have a friend or two in the private dick business," he said. She looked angrily at him.

"Oh, sorry, I meant private-eye," he said, realizing his mistaken wordology. She was only slightly mollified.

"Abby, this will cost you," he said.

"How much?" she said.

"They'll work cheap for me; they need me. A grand should do it. Get you a couple of weeks of loose surveilance," he said.

"That's cheap?" she said.

"You betcha. Their normal fee is $200 a day and expenses-each," he said. She nodded.

"Okay. Done. Please have them start immediately. I will get you the money by tomorrow. Okay?" she said.

"Yeah, that'll be fine," he said.

"But really, you really like this guy, this Gary fella?" he said.

"Told you already. I'm not sure, but maybe. Can we leave it at that, Merle? Please?" she said.

He just smirked. If he could get her married maybe she'd stop the whoring around; their parents would be happy. He didn't say that he'd be checkin' out her new boyfriend too, but that was a foregone conclusion; she was his baby sister. She might be a cheap assed whore, but she was his blood, nothing came before that: not boyfriends, johns, hubbies, nothing, not to Merle Ross, police captain.

******

The two men watched them dance. The watchers were stationed on opposite sides of the room, holding drinks and conversing with whoever would take the time to socialize. The bobtail cameras in their lapels and the directional mics they had engaged-state of the art stuff-were working just fine, thank you very much.

They'd been on the job for two weeks. They'd seen about everything there was to see but the sex. The targets were lovers, no doubt about it. The sex had apparently been played out in the rooms they'd hired at the four different motels they'd used for the purpose during the period and at her house. Lots of audio and video. Captain Ross would be pleased, and they were pleased to please him.

******

She knocked on the door of his office. He looked up. "Oh, hi, sis," he said. She plunked down in the seat in front of his desk. He nodded toward the manila envelope in front of her.

"That it?" she asked.

"Yes, they're guilty as hell," he said. "Nothing illegal, of course, but it's more than damning if there's a divorce in there somewhere," he said. She nodded.

"Thanks, brother mine," said Abby. "He already knew; he just wanted the evidence. Kind of a way to close the books on that chapter in his life."

"Abby, are you okay? You sure about this? I mean you and him… " said her brother.

"I think so, Captain. I think so. You'll be the first to know when I'm sure," she said.

They said their goodbyes and he watched her go. At least this new love interest, and there hadn't been but a handful, in her life he knew, seemed straight arrow. Hard working, intelligent, and non-violent. He'd do, if Abby chose him.

******

"Yeah, they're still together, her and that Hugh guy. One of the shadows did say that she was a little less enthusiastic than maybe one might expect, but he was all over her virtually every time that they were together," said Abby. I just nodded.

"Well, it's not like I didn't expect it. She is a sexual being for sure. I just wasn't enough for her, I guess. It kills me to think thoughts like that, but what is, is," I said.

"Whaddya gonna do now?" she said. "You oughta just divorce her."

"I don't know. I kinda don't have the guts to do something like that," I said. "I wish I did. I know life would be a whole lot simpler."

"You've got plenty of guts, big guy, you just can't get over her. Even after all of it; you still love her," she said. I noticed what I thought were the beginnings of tears in the corner of her eyes; I wondered at that. All of a sudden I began to wonder just how much this girl really cared about me. I knew she liked me. I knew she wanted to be of help; but, was there more to it than that. What she said next put an end to my cerebrations.

"Gary there was something else," she said.

"What," I said, a little too impatiently. "What else?"

"That night, when everything came to a head, it wasn't the first time. They'd been at it for more than a year by then," she said. I looked at her like she had two heads. But then I had a moment of clarity.

Everything started to come together for me. Pieces of a puzzle were falling into place. It had been for a year before that night, more or less, that she had been trying to get me to swing. Oh yeah, now it all began to make sense. She wanted me to get into swinging so that she could have free access to this Hugh fellow. It must have really ticked her that it took so long for her to get me to surrender. Of course, it sure as hell didn't work out the way she'd planned. Well, how do you like them apples, I asked myself.

I must have been lost in my thoughts. "Gary? You all right?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "It's relative." She smiled.

"A least you haven't lost your sense of humor," she said.

"Give me time, I'll be miserable again shortly," I said. Now she laughed outright. She came to me and kissed me.

"There, that's just a little bit of therapy for you. And, there is plenty more where that came from," she said.

"Yeah, well leave me your card; I figure to need plenty more therapy pretty soon if I'm guessin' rightly," I said. She smiled, looked pensive for a moment, and then leaned in to speak to me.

"Gary."

"Huh?" I said.

"I think you need to see her one more time. You need to get closure. Go to her, get it done. Agree on divorce terms or whatever, but end it. You really need to get off and on," she said.

In that moment, Abby had made up my mind for me. I would go to see her, Claire, one more time. I needed to do it if only to get a little yellin' and screamin' in for my team. Okay, and yes, I missed her. Just one more time, see her just one more time. Yes, I would do that, but there was one other thing I had to do first.

******

"Abby, we need to go out tonight," I said. "You up for it?"

"Well, okay, but what…?"

"Girl, frankly, I need to get into your pants. It's been a real long while for me; well, you know. I just need you, I mean the real you. We've never done it, and I don't really know why; but unless you want to see me jump off a bridge, you gotta help me out here," I said, I was being semi-serious. She smiled.

"But, Gary, you do know I still do it for pay. I'm still a pro. I mean we don't' talk about it, but that's how I pay the bills. You know that right?" she said. My turn to smile.

"Yeah, I know. It sounds stupid of me, but I'm kinda proud of you, what you do. Anyway, I'm a favored customer, not just a john, right?" She nodded her agreement.

"One thing, Gary, I'm usually not into therapeutic screwing, except for money; but, in your case I will be making an exception. Tonight it is. I do however fully expect you to fall in love with me when you finally get things worked out with your soon to be ex. Got it?" she said.

"Definitely," I said.

"Oh, and one more thing: I have a date tonight, but I will be clear to go out with you after, say seven o'clock. Understand?" she said. I had visions of sloppy seconds. But, I was so horny that I was on the point of not giving a flying fuck!

I smiled broadly, "How fucking wonderful," I said. "Yeah, that's fine," I said. "That's just fucking wonderful."

******

I was a little early picking her up. She arrived at the same time I did. A black man, young, well dressed, driving a Corvette dropped her off: her john I thought.

At any rate, our date was interesting in the extreme. I noticed when I entered her the first time that she was a little loose. I wanted to ask her how her date had gone, but I didn't have the brass cojones for that. She was clean I noticed, no sloppy seconds.

We did it all. I took her doggie. I took her missionary, I took her on the kitchen table; then I sucked her anus like it was the fountain of youth, and then I fucked her there. She sucked my cock, she sucked my balls, she spanked me, and I spanked her. She yelled a whole lot louder than I did too.

By the end of the evening I had lost at least eleven pounds I was sure. She, on the other hand, wasn't even breathing hard. I was thinking maybe prostitution oughta be an Olympic event; maybe I could be a trainer; I'd sure as hell learned a lot.

A solemn thought came to me. I'd learned a lot from Abby in just one night. If I'd known more when I was with Claire, might she not have strayed? Sadness again overcame my good mood. Abby noticed.

"Thinking about her?" she said.

"Sort of. I was thinking if I had known what I now know, or think I know; would my marriage have gone in a different direction?" I said.

She smiled. "You are a quick study," she said. "But who knows. From experience I can say this. Part of the reason that men, and women too, cheat is boredom in the bedroom. But, more often it is a lack of empathy for the other person on the part of the individuals: they stop being concerned and take for granted each other's feelings and needs. It is usually not a matter of skill in the bedroom, not usually. Frankly, any moron can learn to be a good lover; it's in the human genome or whatever. That they don't is an error in judgment on a huge scale."

"Now, I'm a moron?" I said.

"Well you are a male. Moron and male are practically synonymous terms," she said. She wasn't smiling.

******

She was still living in the same house. I wondered how she afforded it. Maybe he was paying the bills; Hell, I didn't know anything.

The strange car in the driveway answered one question-probably-he'd moved in. But, I knew she hadn't divorced me, so I was sure that house was still half mine. I parked on the street two houses down. It was mid-day and it was Saturday and people were out and about. I got looks from a few of the neighbors as I walked toward my house. They must have been wondering what hole I'd crawled out of, but who knew for sure.

As I headed up the driveway, I paused in front of the car, his car. I heard laughter from the back yard. Well, I wasn't here to show my heels and pussy-foot the hell out. I came to talk to her. I was going to talk to her even if it ended up in a yellathon. I had to try.

I got halfway up the pathway to the patio when I heard my name. I stopped and waited. Why the hell I hadn't learned my lesson and just moved in to short shank the bullshit, I will never know. But, I didn't. I waited. Bad idea.

There was apparently more than just the two of them in attendance.

"So when are you going to file and marry Hugh," said a female voice that I didn't recognize.

"Soon, I guess," said Claire.

"She needs a real man," said the strange female voice, "not that pussy she used to be stuck with. She needs you Hugh." Hugh laughed.

"Yeah, well, soon, Like the lady said. I got the cock, so the other guy's gotta walk. Ain't no doubt about that. Right honey?" he said.

"Yes, I guess so. I wish you two would stop talking about him though. He isn't here to defend himself, and you have no call to be talking about him anyway," said Claire.

"See sis," said Hugh, "she still sticks up for the wimpy little guy. I put up with it because I love her, but it sure does get old."

Well, that answered one question. The strange woman was evidently Hugh's sister. One big happy family.

"And you keep raggin' on him, for no reason," said Claire. "Yes, you're better in bed than he is; yes you're bigger than he is; and yes you're the better stronger man, but you also have a streak of arrogance that really needs to be gotten control of, Hugh Williams, and soon if we're going to be together. I really don't like it. I hope I'm not being vague here."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said. "But, I tell yuh, if wimpy was here, I would be running his high school ass out of town. He has been a burr in my bonnet ever since he cut and ran."

"Damn it, Hugh, quit talking him down. He isn't here, so just quit it," said Claire.

The other woman laughed. "Children, children," she said, "give it a rest. I'm payin' the bills around here, so do what I say."

Well, that pretty much told me where I stood and how Claire was getting the bills paid. I shoulda just turned and left, but I was not going to be called all of those names and let it slide. I made the decision.

"Sorry to bother you, old boy," I said, walking up to the little group ending right in front of big dick. "Couldn't help overhearing. How about I run you off the property."

"What the… " said Hugh. "What the fuck are you doing here, little man? This ain't your place no more."

"Oh, but it is, asshole. Oh but it is. But what it ain't is yours. So leave-now!" I said.

He missed with the first swing, but the second one caught me flush on the jaw. I struggled to stay on my feet, but he kicked them out from under me and I went down. I flailed with my feet to try and keep him at bay, but he had the advantage on me, and soon I was a bleeding hulk. I made to crawl back toward the gate, but he kicked me in the ass each time I tried to raise up. I was hurtin' pretty bad.

All the time the women were screaming. Claire actually tried to push him away from me, but he shoved her down. Even his sister was trying to grab his arm and pull him back, but he was too big.

The whole melee only lasted two or three minutes. It would have gone on more, I was sure, but the cops broke it up.

I watched as Hugh was cuffed and led out. An EMT medic attended to me. I was in excruciating pain, hardly able to talk. Apparently I had a broken wrist-Jesus it hurt. They took care of it on the spot; ah, modern medical techniques. The cast immobilized the wrist and the hand attached to it. It had to be my right.-right!

Claire was crying, Miz Williams was trying to comfort her. And Abby…

Abby was speaking to her brother just as the medic told me to take it easy and to keep it in a sling for a couple of days. I sort of listen to him, but I has half in and out of it from the pain. The pain killers were helping, but they were not a hundred percent effective yet. The cast was gonna be good for two weeks minimum, I heard him say. I was to check it out with a doctor after one of those.

"Well, lover, if looks like you got your butt kicked fairly substantially," said Abby coming up to me.

"You get to talk to her?" she said. Why was she questioning me? Didn't she see I was hurting.

"Not really," I kinda squeaked. Mister Williams decided to entertain me first, so I didn't get the chance."

"Want to now? I think she wants to talk to you," she said. I looked over to a still sobbing Claire.

"No, I can't okay. I'm fucking hurt, okay! The

"Question. What are you doing here, and the cops?" I said.

Just then a middle aged man: six-four, two-fifty came striding up to us. "You oaky, man?" said the man.

"Gary, this is my brother Merle. I called him to have him follow you. I was afraid of something like this. I need you alive to fall in love with me; I mean as soon as you clean up your personal life," said Abby.

"I guess I owe you, or you might have been arresting Mr. Williams for murder," I said to the man.

"Yeah maybe," he said.

"Well, I better go talk to the girlfriend. She looks like she's calming down a little," said Merle.

We watched as he headed over to the two women. I tried my best to pay attention as he talked to them for some few moments. Miz Willaims was animated, Claire seemed-what-shy maybe. I wondered at that.

Just as I was being freed from the clutches of the EMT guy, Claire broke loose and came up to me.

"Gary, I don't know what it is, but we do seem to be meeting under the worst of circumstances these days. Anyway, as God is my judge, I am so sorry for what that man did to you. I am so sorry, really." With that, she turned on her heels and headed into the house.

"Well, that went well," said Abby.

I wouldn't see Claire for some time. I did hear that Mister Williams pled out and got six months for beating the shit outta me. Well, my wrist heeled long before he got out; that was something, I suppose. I wondered if Claire was visiting him in the slam. Probably, I figured.

Things were happening out in the world that I had no knowledge of; well, not right away at any rate. What I was more than aware of was the intense pressure my new girlfriend and sometimes savior, Abby, was putting on me. She was with me most of the time now. She was still a working girl, but she always seemed to have time for me. Her johns were getting the sloppy seconds now, and I thought that ironic as hell; though the fact that she required condoms, always had, limited their experience in that little reality.

******

It was nine months since Hugh did his number on me. Thanksgiving was just around the corner. My family had invited me for dinner. I had always had an open invitation, but with my split with Claire it had not been in me to do family functions. I didn't want either the sympathy or the support. I needed to be left alone, and since I was out of town, it had been easy to beg off. This year Abby insisted that we go.

I had misgivings about introducing my new lady to my very religiously doctrinaire parents: practicing Baptists since as long as I could remember. I was not a Baptist nor a practitioner of anything or any "ism."

I was of the serious opinion that if we were going to do this, That is Abby and me go to the dinner, that my parents were going to have to know who it was that was coming. Not to tell them would open me and Abby up to some maybe bad stuff someday. I was not about to let that happen.

Some may argue, and with reason, that since we were neither married nor even engaged that there was no necessity to broadcast Abby's past. But that was the problem.

Abby didn't know it, but tonight was the night that I intended to propose. Oh yeah, talk about complicated. Well, what is, is, as I always say.

The divorce from Claire had gone through seamlessly. She had filed, asked for nothing, and I gave her half plus the house. She'd since sold the house, and had gone into business. She'd opened a dress shop, hired two seamstresses, and managed very well. She seemed to have a knack for it; well, surprises come when you least expect them; I think that's why they call them surprises.

We arrived at the house at around 2:00PM. Dad took me out back and handed me a beer.

"You know I like your girl, Gary. She's a winner. I think she has a surprise planned for you tonight. But, do not let on that I cued you, okay?" he said.

"No problem, dad, I have a surprise for her too," I said. I pulled out the ring I'd gotten two days before and showed it to him.

"Whoa, there cowboy. That's a very nice piece of glass you got there," he said.

"It is isn't it," I said. "Set me back pretty good, but she's worth it." I had it planned. Once I'd asked her to marry me, I would be announcing her-job history. I had it engineered so as to allow us to make our escape in a hurry if things turned at all sour. The die was cast.

Back in the house Abby was all smiles. She'd not had Thanksgiving dinner with her own family either over the past couple of years. And, except for Merle, she had had no contact with them at all. Well, whatever happened it figured to be one hell of an evening.

******

"I invited Merle and his fiancé, for tonight, Gary. I hope that was all right. I did ask your mom first though, and she was okay with it," said Abby.

I smiled, so that was her big surprise. Well it was, and it turned out to be a lot bigger than I had expected.

I was seated at on the living room divan when they arrived.

"Brother, thank you for coming," I heard her say to him. "And this must be your fiancé."

"Yes, it is," he said. I was staring.

"Gary," said Abby, "say hello to Merle and Claire." My mouth was still hanging open.

"Hello, Gary," said a clearly worried Claire.

"Uh-hi," I said. I don't think I'd blinked in the past couple of minutes. Merle took Claire's hand and led her following Abby into the kitchen. I think Abby talked to her for a brief moment. Me? I was still in a "waking" coma.

Greetings and welcomes over, we all got to egg-nogging it and settled down. Seeing Claire with her old family-in-laws-and acting the friend of the family was surreal, but it was real. Things just kind of got on more or less normally.

Around 4:00PM, I guess Abby thought I was ready for my sit down with my ex. Evidently sheriff Ross, was good with my speaking to his-intended-in spite of our history. Talk about a complicated situation; oh, I said that already.

I still planned to ask Abby for her hand, but that after dinner was under way. Mom, with Abby's assistance, was still getting things ready in the kitchen. Dad had pulled Merle off the battle lines and out on the same patio where I had clued him about my plans. Did I say things were a bit complicated.

Claire looked good, and she looked at me and headed for the front porch. It was clear that she expected me to follow.

"I see good 'ole Hugh is history," I said, coming up to where she stood near the porch swing. I felt a little put upon by the situation, but since I had my own agenda, I wasn't too upset.

"Yes, since he beat you up. I visited him once in jail to tell him we were through. He actually took it well and understood. I was surprised," she said.

"Hmm," I said.

"Gary, I was an asshole. We should still be married, and I should have your boot about three feet up my ass for all of the hurt I caused you," she said. "I was a fool-well-I was a fool for big cocks. Hugh had one; you didn't. It means a lot to some women, and I was one of those. I am not saying this to hurt you more. I'm just telling you, so you'll know."

I was wondering if Merle had a big dick. I didn't ask. "Was that all there was to all of that," I said.

"Actually, yes," she said. "It really was. And before you ask, I don't know."

"Huh?" I said.

"Merle. I don't know how big he is, and I won't until we are married. Gary, I need to ask you something. Would that be okay?" she said. I nodded.

"I would like your blessing to marry Merle. It may sound stupid, but I need to give you back a little of what I took from you. Anyway, that's it," she said.

This woman was just full of surprises. "Sure, you got it," I said. "I hope you'll both be happy. And, I hope his cock can satisfy you." Yeah it was a little dig, but just a little one.

"Unless he turns out to be a woman in drag, it will; I'm determined that it will," she said. I smiled at that.

"Gary, do your folks know about…"

"Not yet, but they will tonight. You're second to know, but I am asking Abby to marry me at dinner. I am also going to lay it on the line about her past," I said.

"Jesus, Gary, are you sure? I mean… " she said. "Does Abby know about any of this?"

"No, Abby's in the dark. But, yes, I'm sure about going ahead with it," I said. She shook her head slowly.

Two hours later we were all getting ready for desert. The evening had been boisterous and fun and kinda crazy. Merle kept leaning over to kiss his soon to be wife, and I kept fondling Abby under the table. Mom and dad kept giving me the evil eye, but everybody just laughed-including them.

I tapped the side of mom's favorite crystal glassware.

"A toast everyone, actually two toasts," I said. Mom, dad, Claire, Merle; this is a momentous evening. First, I want to congratulate Merle and Claire on their upcoming marriage. I wish them the best, and I know I speak for all here tonight." The here-heres were a moment or two in dying down.

I put down my glass and stepped behind Abby's chair forcing her to turn to see me. I got down on my knee. "Abby will you marry me?" I said.

Her eyes got as big as dinner plates. "Gary, I-I-I don't know what to say," she said. "You know I love you, but my… " she said. I think she was about to cry. Claire came around to her and held her.

"Folks, Mom, Dad. What Abby is trying to say is that she has a history," I said.

"Son, I'm sure that Abby's history can wait for another time," said my dad.

"No dad, I've made a decision, and part of it is that Abby and I are going to spend the rest of our lives together if she'll have me. The other part is letting everyone up front know our situation," I said.

Abby stood. She actually flashed a slightly angry look at me. "No, it's my situation," she said.

"Honey, you don't need to… " my mom, started.

"Yes, ma'am, I do," said Abby. "There's no easy way to put this, so I'll just say it, I used to be a prostitute. I was one for many years, and alienated my own family, except for Merle there. He really is the best big brother in the world.

The look she got from me made her smile. I was shocked. I did not know she'd quit the business.

"Your son treated me like a I was a princess…"

My Mom's hand went to her mouth. My dad's face had darkened. He looked at Abby. "How long have you been out of the-business-Abby?" he said.

"For about one minute, sir," she said without so much as a trace of a smile.

For some reason that struck me as funny, and I broke up. Soon everyone was laughing their asses off.

It had been a helluva day.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Fourth Time's the Charm
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Man in love just refuses to trust his whorish girlfriend though he remains her best friend through the worst of times.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/57053/the-fourth-times-the-charm
Published:2008-07-10
I'd met Lana at State College. I was gradding in the M.A. program in June, but she had a year to go on her B.A. I'd majored in Psychology and she in Liberal Studies. The circumstances of our meeting were her taking a Psyche II class that I was student-teaching under the watchful oversight of Professor Duncan.

Lana Albright was pretty, slight of build, possessed of a winsome personality, intelligent, and she was the campus whore. It was common knowledge, and it was common knowledge that she relished. Seeing her sitting in the second row of the theater-style classroom shook me. Okay, yes I did want some of that. Gawd! what an incredible cunt, I thought. As I stood, there were twenty-seven bodies staring at me like I was an idiot, but I didn't care an iota; I knew I had to figure a way into her pants.

"Mr. Colson? Are you all right," said Mary Gilford: a student who had taken two other courses student-taught by me. Her words brought me out of my temporary coma.

"Oh-yes-Mary. I had my mind somewhere else, I guess." I said.

There was a low pitched gaggle of giggles and guffaws. I ignored them; I had no choice.

Somehow I got through the class without completely making a fool of myself.

Class ended, Mary came up to me and asked me a question relating to a theory of Carl Jung's. I gave her the reference and started packing my brief case to leave.

As I turned to go, I literally slammed into Lana. "Geezsus! I said as I caught her just in time to keep her head from hitting the floor. "Ms. Albright, I am so sorry. I didn't see you…"

"Shush, Mr. Colson. No harm no foul. I have a question if you don't mind," she said.

"Oh, no, that's fine. What can I do for you?" I said, still struggling to get some sense of control back. I combed back my hair with my hand, straightened my glasses on my nose, and waited for her to tell me what she wanted. She had to be able to tell how shaken I was by her presence, but thankfully she didn't show any sign that she did.

"Well," she said, "I would really like you to fuck me. I have time right now if you aren't in a hurry to go somewhere," she said.

The tent in my pants was sinfully obvious. "I don't-"

"Mr. Colson. I know you want to. It is soooo obvious. And, I'm in heat and needing a little TLC. Whaddya say," she said, smiling the smile of a cat with its paw in the fish bowl.

"My name is Jess Colson," I said. "Jess to you." I wasn't passing this up. I walked up the ten steps to the classroom door and threw the deadbolt. I walked back down and motioned her to follow me into the small office off to the side of the room. Entering I locked it too. She smiled at me and began disrobing. "Take a seat," she said. I did, and I watched her enthralled. Damn, she was pretty! And now she was naked.

She moved toward me and just stood there for several moments. Her pubis was baby-bare. I gazed at her slit, which was almost at eye level and wondered if the female form wasn't the most perfect thing in the entire universe.

She stepped back, turned around, ad bent over. Her butt was less than eighteen inches from my face. The rear view of her lips was mesmerizing, and her anus was as pink and beautiful as anything I had ever seen. I was overcome with a desire to kiss it and lick it and to try and penetrate it with my tongue-something I had never contemplated before.

Had anyone asked me at that moment; I would have said that this woman could have been the "face, and the body, that launched a thousand ships and laid low the topless towers of Illion." She was that spectacular. The only bad part, as I suspected, was that she absolutely knew it and understood her power. And in Lana's case, power did corrupt and that absolutely.

As she stood there bent over, I got out of my chair, stripped naked in no more than eleven seconds, knelt behind her, grasped her hips and pulled her buttocks to my face and its waiting tongue. I made love to this woman's most private place and adored her as the ancients would have a fertility goddess.

She straightened up, tossed her hair and turned to face me. Still on my knees I licked her slit and kissed her lower belly for what seemed a thousand times. I felt her hands on the back of my head pulling me tightly to her.

"That's right baby, make me feel good. Be a good boy and make me cum." And I did. At that moment, I would have agreed to be her slave forever more. Talk about pussywhipped.

She shivered, and I knew she had orgasmed. Weak in the knees, she knelt down and faced me. We kissed in that position for some moments before she collapsed onto her back on the floor and spread her legs in surrender to me.

I loomed over her and lowered myself to spear her womanly form. She smiled.

"Ugh!" she moaned as I mastered her. I began punishing her loins as I thrust again and again inside of her. Soon she was jerking in paroxysms of sexual completion ohohohohohohhoh! She stiffened and collapsed in on herself life a dying star. "My gawd that was good," she said.

I came three seconds after her, washing her insides with my blazing hot semen. I lay on top of her for a few seconds before rolling off of her and onto the floor beside her.

She rolled on top of me and began kissing and licking my face. The smell of her was overpowering and I gloried in it.

Tiring, she lay back beside me and relaxed. For a long time both of us just lay there in the afterglow.

"That was the most wonderful fuck I have ever had," I said.

"You might be the one," she said.

"What one?" I said.

"The one I will marry," she said. "I will let you know."

I wasn't sure if she were kidding or serious. But at that moment, I would have agreed to do anything she wanted any time she wanted to do it.

We began dating immediately after that first time. We were a monogamous item for a whole three weeks; then she broke a date with me for the first time. I wasn't an idiot; I knew what she was doing, and I was not about to let it get to me. I broke off with her.

"Why are you breaking up with me?" she asked, the next day seeming to really want to know. I had actually pouted at first, and then gotten a little bit angry at having been stood up.

"Why! Am I dreaming or did you ask me why?" I said too loud for normal conversation.

"Yes, why?" she said. "You knew before we met that I liked to date more than one guy. I never made it a secret. I know what they say about me around campus. Mostly it's true. I do not, however, pull trains, no matter what they say."

I just stood there with my mouth hanging open wondering if I should say something or just walk. I decided to just walk. If I'd been smart I would have walked clean out of the state.

A couple of weeks later I was sitting in the cafeteria going over some notes for my thesis. I was having trouble relating some of the evidence that I had gathered directly to my project: too much of it was anecdotal; I needed more cross references for support.

I took a sip of the cold coffee I'd been nursing for three hours.

"Hi," I heard from behind me.

I turned. "Lana? What?"

"May I sit?" she said. Not waiting for me to say okay, she sat. "How have you been, Jess?" she said.

"Okay. Lana, this is not…"

"Shush, young man," she said looking directly into my eyes. "I miss you. I want you back. So, tonight pick me up at my dorm at 7:00, okay."

"No, Lana, it's not okay. I don't share my girl with other men. I just don't, and I know…"

"I've turned over a new leaf, Jess. I'm yours if you want me. I know I disappointed you before, but it won't happen again; I promise. No more standing you up; really, I promise."

I stared at her for a long moment. "Lana, I don't know if you can change. You love the chase too much. I'm not into heartache and mental distress," I said.

"Jess, you're not hearing me. You have to give me a chance to prove to you that I love you and that I will be good. You simply must," she said. She was beginning to cry. That stopped me. Call me a fool, Call me pussywhipped, I just can't let a woman cry when I can do something to stop it.

"Okay, Lana, I guess a date won't be all that big a deal. I'll pick you up at 7:00." And I did.

The date was good. No sex though. I wasn't going for any of that until I was sure that she really had turned over a new leaf.

Two months later I graduated. Lana and I and my parents and some of our friends had a wonderful time at my folks' country club.

Lana and I continued to date. I remained at the college as an adjunct instructor in Psychology and Philosophy; at least now I was getting paid as I worked toward my Ph.D.

It was at a faculty party in the spring semester of that first year that I proposed to the girl of my dreams. She sprang into my arms and the sex for the next three days was nothing if not historic! Gawd! I loved that girl, and she loved me. She loved me so much that she stood me up again and fucked my best friend the night after we'd set the date for our wedding.

I hurt so bad that I cried for two hours straight that night. When she showed up the next morning, she begged me to understand, to forgive her, to start over.

I loved her, but I knew this wasn't anything that I needed. I walked away. She couldn't help herself. I left her sobbing bitterly and swearing that she didn't mean to do it; that it just happened.

Outside I shook myself and let myself feel good. I was free! I had almost made a bad mistake. Well, one lives and one learns.

The semesters progressed. It was June and Lana graduated. I received an invitation to attend her grad party; she'd asked for an RSVP; I didn't respond. Her parents were evidently footing the bill for the hotel. Lana was nothing if not tenacious.

I got a late night call the night before the party. "Hi, Jess, it's me," she said so softly I barely recognized her voice. "Are you coming?"

It had been six months since I'd even seen her let alone talked to her. I later suspected that she had made sure that I'd had plenty of time to get over my mad before she laid siege to me again. I hadn't gotten over it.

"Coming to what?" I asked. I really had forgotten about her grad party.

"My party at the Hilton tomorrow night. I've gotten my B.A." she said, a little louder.

"Oh, no I can't, Lana. I am very busy working on the proposal for my dissertation. You understand."

"Jess, this is a very big day for me. I've told everyone that you'd escort me. Just for old times' sake," she said.

Now, I am not the village idiot. I have an IQ of 172. And, unlike Einstein, I actually do tie my shoes, comb my hair, and dress well. So, with all of my more than impressive qualifications, I should have been able to repel her assault on my Psyche; I had an M.A. in Psychology for Chrissakes!

"Okay, Lana, for old times' sake." Her glee was almost too much, over the top, suspicious in its intensity. I knew I was in for it, and I wanted to punch myself in the nose for being-well, the village idiot.

We talked a little longer, and I agreed to pick her up at 6:00PM; she had to be there early, she said, to make sure everything was managed right.

The grad party was a good one. Everyone ate and danced and talked and danced some more.

Lana doted on me. "Honey, do you love me?" she had the brass cojones to ask. I answered her truthfully.

"With all my heart," I said.

We happened to be dancing, and she melded her body to mine. Now, from a scientific point of view there are few things in the wide world that feel as wonderful as the female body pressed against that of a man. The feel of it, the smell of it, the heat of it: there is nothing like it anywhere. And, if any female on the third planet from the sun was an expert at using her body to enslave a man, Lana was that female.

During the evening Lana made sure that my senses, my mind, my very soul were under almost irresistible pressure to knuckle under to her skills. I very nearly succumbed.

"Honey, you know I've kept the engagement ring you gave me before-before I flubbed everything up," she said. She sounded like a helpless kitten in need of a fireman.

I looked at her. I had actually forgotten about it. And it had cost me $1,400. But, I wanted her to have it. I wasn't interested in marrying her anymore, but I did still adore her, love her; that wasn't going to change; she owned my heart-but not my good sense. "You keep it, dearheart. It's memento of what might have been," I said, as gently as I could.

"Jess, couldn't we try again. I've learned my lesson," she said.

Gawd! how I was tempted. "Honey, Lana, I do love you. I think you know that, and I think you know how much. But, I can't trust you. I don't know what it is for you, but you simply cannot help yourself, and I need a woman that is there for me and me alone. I want a woman to share my life with, and to grow old and crotchety with. I don't want other men sharing my bed with you. I just can't get around that, and you can't either; I wish that you could."

We danced and talked and she begged and I begged off, and finally the evening was over. I took her home. Kissed her goodnight and wished her well.

A month later, she married my former best friend, Dave. I wasn't even invited to the wedding. I considered that a lucky break.

The couple were doing well by all accounts. I heard bits and pieces of what was going on with them from time to time. Dave considered her his trophy wife, and adored her; hell, all of the men I ever met adored her; she was adorable, a slut, but an adorable slut. Going on two years after their marriage Dave caught her doing that which she had vehemently protested she never would. He caught her pulling a train. It was the entire basketball team at the college, all fourteen of them. I remember thinking at the time; there were seventy-one members on the football team; I guess she knew her limits.

Dave actually showed up on my doorstep begging forgiveness for poking her that first time and ruining my life, or so he imagined, asking my help in getting a divorce. He said he just couldn't bring himself to do it without somebody holding his hand. I told him to get some backbone and do his own dirty work; he literally howled in despair.

Their divorce was final eight months later. Dave was a physical wreck. He still couldn't believe that she would cheat on him. There was a rumor later on that he had tried to slit his wrists when he found out that she had gotten engaged to someone else soon after their divorce. But it was just a rumor; I didn't think he was capable of doing anything to himself. He just doesn't have the balls for something that dramatic.

But I digress. Before she got engaged to Gerd, I got a visit from her.

I was just finishing up a class in the same theater where we had first met. She had to have planned it that way. Talk about drama queens.

"Hi, Jess," she said. "Got time to buy a girl a cup of coffee?"

My eyes narrowed involuntarily. "Uh-sure, okay," I said.

It was pleasant talking to her. She really got into her persona. Everything that had happened during the past two and a half years was fair game. She looked a little weary to me, but her energy level remained undiminished.

"Jess, I'm available if you want me," she said.

"Huh?"

"For the night or for a lifetime your choice," she said. "I'm still the most talented slut in town, you know."

And I did know. And I did want to fuck her. "My place or yours," I said.

"Yours, I don't want to run into Dave. He's been stalking me since the divorce. I don't know why; it was his idea to get the divorce; I didn't want it. We could have worked through it."

The sex wasn't good; it was Olympian. Geezsus that girl could fuck and suck; she really did have no equal in the arts of love. In the morning we said our goodbyes. I had the feeling that I had not heard the last of her. But, in point of fact I had; well, for the next five years at any rate.

The night after our one night stand, she had gotten engaged to a History professor twenty years her senior, Gerd Trotska. I think she made an effort to be faithful to him. I saw her a lot: she attended all of the faculty functions. I even escorted her to two or three of them over the years at Gerd's request. And then it happened again.

Gerd had come home for lunch unexpectedly. He caught her in bed-with his sister! He went insane with rage throwing things, screaming at her-at both of them "queer-assed bitch, pig, whore, asshole-the list of epithets was long. Finally, someone, a neighbor, called the cops. No one was hurt. But, the cops hauled Gerd downtown to let him cool off. He was out the next day when Lana came down to bail him out. His gratitude was limited however; he divorced her less than two weeks after the fiasco with his sister.

After the divorce was final, Lana laid low for a while. As far as I could tell she wasn't banging anybody and kinda disappeared from the local social scene. It was something less than a year after her latest divorce that I got another visit from her. She was broke.

"Jess, can you help me? I'm at a loss. I can't even buy food. I lost my job. Gerd flips me off every time I've gone over to ask him for a little help, you know, just to tide me over. Geezsus, Jess, I need help!"

I thought to myself that she sure did, but not the financial kind, but the fact was that I still loved her, so I let her shack up with me for a while and gave her a little assist financially. She was grateful: she damn near wore my penis off, and I loved every fucking minute of it, no pun intended.

She cooked for me, cleaned the place, even did some of the yard work. I knew what was coming: I tie my shoes and comb my hair, remember.

"Wanna try again," she said as we sat sipping wine one evening in the fall.

"Do you want to marry me?" she said. "I do windows."

"Tempting," I said. "But you know I'm a one woman guy, Lana, and you are not t a one man woman. If you ever really do become one, I'll consider it."

"I'll hold you to that," she said. What I didn't say was that I wouldn't be holding my breath.

It was just before Christmas that she disappeared for almost a week. I knew what was up. And, I'm sure she knew I knew. I just wondered who he was this time.

Well, it turned out that she wasn't going out with anyone initially. No, she was in jail: a drunk driving offense. Why she didn't call me to bail her out was kind of a mystery. She later told me that she was too ashamed to tell me. I never knew, but I think that the reason she was ashamed was because she'd been fucking some guy or other and just couldn't face me. Nevertheless…

She did get bailed out, by none other than the cop who had busted her: one Herbert Gillis. He'd evidently brought her in and then spent some effort using his resources-read the resources of the PD-and figured out who and what she was. That she was the village slut seemed to intrigue him.

After he bailed her out, they dated a few times, and seemed to become close. She'd told me about him. One night a couple of months later she was waiting for me when I got home from work.

"Hi, hon," she said. "I've got something I need to talk to you about." I figured I could guess what it might be. One thing about Lana, she wasn't a mystery.

"Okay," I said, "shoot."

"It's about Herbert," she said. I motioned her to go on. I was smiling to myself, such a drama queen. "Well, he has asked me to be his wife," she said.

"That's wonderful," I said. "He's a lucky guy. When are you two planning to tie the knot?"

"You're not mad," she said.

"Heavens no," I said. "Am I invited to the wedding?"

"Well-sure-I mean of course," she said. "I mean if you want." She clearly had expected me to be upset. We had cohabited for quite a while, in point of fact, and I guess she figured that I would want to keep her around.

"I want," I said. "You know I love you, and I want you to be happy. I hope you don't, well, you know," I said.

"No, I've given all of that up," she said. "I'm a one man woman now, as you used to say."

"Well, then you will make that fella one very happy guy," I said. "I felt like I needed to say one more thing to her. I did love her, I just didn't trust her a whit; and I worried about her more than I was willing to admit.

"Lana, he's a cop. He has resources you have no idea of. If you mess around, he will find out, and you will be in deep shit," I said.

"Jess, I told you, I'm a changed woman. I intend to be totally faithful to my new man," she said. I smiled sympathetically and kissed her. "Good," I said.

I think it was David Hume, the great skeptic of the 1700s, who said that nothing is for certain, not even that the sun will continue to rise in the east. As short as the odds were that Lana would remain faithful to her new husband, I knew I could be wrong. And, I was, for a long time.

It was some fifteen years, before I heard a rumbling in the east. Lana was forty-five and at that stage in life when many women begin to get hot pants related to the physical changes in their biological clocks. Of course Lana had never had cold pants. But in her midlife crisis, her pants were extra hot. She messed up with another cop: a close friend of her husband's. Herbert heard about it and he was not happy. I got a call from St. John's Memorial Hospital; it was from a nurse.

I picked up the phone on the third ring. "Yes, this is he… what!… where… I'll be there in fifteen minutes." I slammed down the receiver and was out the door, in the car, and on the road in less than sixty seconds.

Arriving at the hospital, I brushed my way forward to the nurse listening to the complaints of the long suffering clientele; all of whom were anxious to get in and get out.

"Room 217?" I asked. She pointed and I went.

It was a private room with a glass door. I entered. A male nurse was hanging an IV on the metal tree used for the purpose.

"Sir?" he said, looking me over. I must have looked frantic to him because he cautioned me to be very quiet. "She's sleeping," he said, "and she needs it."

I nodded. I glanced at the figure on the bed, and then stared. My Lana was not recognizable. Her face was swollen to twice its normal size. Her left arm and her left leg were both in full casts. Her right hand was attached to a monitoring device of some kind. She had tubes in nose and in her mouth. I began to cry, and I mean I began to cry hard. I knew this was going to happen, and I did nothing to prevent it. In my grief, I accepted all blame for this monstrous deed. I knew the cop mentality. Even the good ones were completely intolerant of insult, real or imagined. This was so predictable.

I turned to the nurse. "Is the animal that did this behind bars? Do you know?" I asked, choking on my tears.

"I don't know, sir. The police were here, but, when they saw her, they talked to the doctor and left."

"Is she going to be all right? I mean will she recover?" I said.

"Sir, you will have to talk to the doctor about that. I'm sorry."

The doctor showed up about fifteen minutes after I had spoken to the nurse.

"You must be Mr. Colson," he said.

"Yes, I am. Can I ask, how was it that you called me."

"The bracelet," he said.

"The bracelet?"

"Yes." He walked to the night stand and picked up an item I'd seen before. Lana always wore it. It was a chain-link platinum wristlet with a small plate that she never took off.

He brought it to me. "Look at the inscription," he said.

It said, "In dire emergency call Jess Colson." I looked at it and shook my head. I suddenly realized that during most of Lana's adult life, I had been her anchor. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. I opted for the latter. Geezsus! how I loved this girl.

I plopped down in a chair next to the bed still holding the bracelet in my grasp. I began mumbling I knew not what. I think it was something akin to a prayer. The person in the bed was not the pretty self-assured sex kitten I'd always known. She was a physical ruin; she just had to get better. I couldn't sleep. I sat there that whole first night. I think I talked to her part of the time, of course it was a totally one sided conversation.

Early in the morning the nurses did there thing and kicked me out of the room for some time. I went downstairs to the cafeteria. I wolfed down some java and a couple of stale donuts. I sat for a little while estimating how long it would be before I could go up and see to Lana again.

As I sat almost in a state of despair fearing for my little girl, I thought about the animal that did this to her. I had to talk to the police at some point. I knew that the asshole who probably did it was her husband, and therefore a cop. If it hadn't been him, he would have been here being sick at heart with me. No one was there to visit her but me, not even her parents; they lived in Vegas maybe 250 miles away.

Back in the room, I was soon joined by the suits, LAPD suits. They wanted to know who I was, and I wanted to know whether the asshole husband was in custody or not.

I told them who I was and they told me the husband had been in custody, but had made bail. That scared me.

It was some four days before she opened her eyes in any meaningful way. I was dozing in the chair next to her bed. I must have sensed that she was awake, and I stirred. I started when I noticed her staring at me.

"Lana!"

"Hi," she said, softly.

"My gawd what happened to you! The police have been her every day. I've been here every day," I said.

"I think it was a medium size truck," she managed to say.

"Lana, it was your husband, wasn't it?"

She started to tear up. "It was my fault," she said. "He just got a little uptight about it."

"Uptight! He almost killed you. I am not letting him get away with this, and neither are you," I said. And, I said it forcefully.

The doctor was at my side-her side-in less than two minutes: the nurse at the monitoring station had evidently alerted him. He was pleased. Someone must have called the cops because they joined us soon thereafter.

"Mrs. Gillis? Your husband admitted to doing this. Is that your testimony too," said one of the suits.

"It was my fault," she said. "I drove him to it."

"Bullshit," I said.

"Mr. Colson, please, if you don't mind. Let us do our job." I nodded, but my mood was dark.

They asked her a few more questions, and then they left. I was very conflicted and very confused. Confused about my feelings. Here was the girl that should've been mine long ago, and we both knew it. That she wasn't was a function of her complete irresponsibility when it came to sex. She hadn't actually slept with every man in the village, but those she hadn't were either gay or nearly dead.

I laid my hand gently on her bloated face. "Dear girl, you are going to divorce this asswipe and we are going to reevaluate things between us, as soon as you do," I said. I knew what I had to do; and nothing was going to stop me.

She looked at me with cow-eyes. "I love you," she said.

"I love you too. But, you need to heal. I will be here every day. Your husband is out on bail. I don't like that little fact, so I am going to be here just in case he returns to finish the job he started," I said.

I saw a flash of fear in her eyes, and she seemed to lean toward me as if I could shield her from the big bad wolf.

The courtroom was maybe half full on the day Mr. Gillis, recently of the LAPD, was tried for aggravated assault on his wife.

Lana refused to allow him to take all of the blame for his attack on her; a fact that caused me no small amount of irritation. Yes, she'd screwed around on him with another cop, she admitted; and she didn't know why, she claimed; it just happened. Her husband, she'd averred, had been so sure that she would never do something like that to him, that when she finally did, he just couldn't get over it. It was her fault," she said.

But, in my mind no amount of extra-curricular sex could justify the beating she had suffered at his hands. Nevertheless, her testimony got the asshole a reduced sentence-two years at a minimum security prison-he'd be out in fourteen Months. He had, however, lost his job and his pension, so I guess he paid in other ways as well he should have.

Lana had come home with me after her release from the hospital. She slept in the same room that she had occupied prior to her marriage to the Mr. Gillis.

Lana was different. Her near death experience, and it had been that, shook her to her marrow. She hung around me like she was glued to me. She never said anything overt, but it was clear to me that she didn't ever want to leave my house. Before, she had always talked about getting her own apartment, getting out to meet new people, being her own person; but no more, she only wanted, needed to feel safe. I kept her safe and kept her loved.

Her parents had arrived two days before she was released from the hospital. They had found her awake with me at my station beside the bed.

Duke Albright had taken me aside at one point and thanked me profusely for being there for her. They had known me of course; how could they not after so many years.

"Why haven't you ever proposed to her, Jess. I tell yuh, her momma and I would be more than happy to give you our blessing," he said.

"She wouldn't have me," I said. "I'm too much of an asshole for a woman as wonderful as your daughter. She could never be happy with me, safe maybe, but not happy."

"I don't know, Jess," said Duke, "I kinda think you'd be just what my girl needs. And, I'm damn sure she loves you already. Anyway, think about it okay."

I told him I would, and two days later the three of us took her home-to my home. That had been six months ago.

The grocery store has to be the least romantic place on the entire planet. But it finally happened there.

She was wearing a short yellow summer dress, not sexy but cute. She was bending over to get something off the bottom shelf in the dairy department, margarine, I think. As she did her dress rode up and the bottoms of her white cotton panties became visible for two or three seconds.

We were having sex virtually every night, at least in some form. But for reasons only knowable to a higher power, something clicked in my brain. As she rejoined me across the aisle, I smiled at her. "Nice ass," I said.

"Thanks, I guess," she said, her tone laced with suspicion.

"Would you call your dad tomorrow," I said. "Tell him it'll be about 10am at the courthouse."

"What are you talking about? What courthouse? Why?"

"Our courthouse. The one on Main Street. As for why, our wedding of course."

She pushed the grocery cart several more feet, turned and looked back at me. The look on her face was a mixture of forty things, but number one was joy and number two was fear. She threw herself into my arms.

"I'll try to be faithful," she said. "I really will. I haven't had a desire for anyone but you since…"

"I know. And, I am going to be there to enforce your fidelity. Gawd help any man that tries to get into your pants, and I mean it," I said.

"Yes, master," she said melding her body to mine in a wonderful embrace and kiss.

The wedding was simple, but had the feeling of a final chapter. And it was-for the next twenty years.

It was a week before my sixty-fifth birthday. I would be retiring in about six months. Lana was planning a party for me that I was not supposed to know about. She had my folks in on it, her folks in on it, and half the university staff. But something didn't seem right.

Lana was absent without leave for as many as three hours Both Tuesday and Thursday. I was concerned, but considered that it might have been related to the party preparations. I was about to be disappointed-and angered.

"Geezsus, Jack, at sixty-three she's too old to be screwing around on me." Jack Salisbury had been my colleague and friend for almost thirty years; I knew he was being straight with me: Lana was seeing someone else.

"It's true I'm afraid, Jess. I saw them going into a motel just today. I had stopped next door at the convenience store to get a couple of things and there was no mistaking who I saw or what they were doing," said Jack.

I was so mad that I could hardly talk. "Jack, thanks for the heads up. I'll take care of it."

Lana walked through the door right on time: 5:00PM, it was a Friday. I didn't wait. I couldn't let this fester, not with the history we had.

I was waiting at the kitchen table when she came in through the kitchen door.

"Hi, hon," she said. She seemed out of breath.

"Who was he?" I said, without preamble.

"Huh? Who?'

"The guy you were with at the Knight's Inn. yesterday, yesterday afternoon," I said.

She paled. "Jess, I…"

"Lana, I want only the truth. Anything else is not going to fly. And I tell yuh, I'll know immediately if you try to lie to me," I said.

"Jess-it isn't what you think. It really isn't. I was just talking with this guy I met. It was only talk," she said.

"Only talk? Really?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

I got up and went to her. I sniffed her. She hadn't showered. If she'd had sex her pussy would be full of his cum. "Okay, Lana, if you haven't had sex with him then you'll be clean. Drop your panties. I want to see," I said.

"You can't be serious!" she said.

"As a heart attack," I said. "Do it now."

She looked at me like I was crazy, but she could tell from my attitude that I would brook no baloney. She stood and slid her panties floorward. She got up on the table's edge and spread herself for inspection. She was clean, and her pussy lips weren't puffy; she hadn't fucked anybody, not even with a condom.

"Okay," I said, "again, who was he?"

"His name was Merle. I don't know his last name," she said.

"You don't know his last name? But you spent the afternoon with him in a motel room. Explain that to me; I'm real interested." I could she was frightened.

"Jess, I was tempted; I admit it. He came on to me. It's been so long since a man was attracted to me. I thought about it, but I didn't do it with him. We just talked," she said.

"What about me, aren't I a man!" I said.

"Jess, of course you're a man. You're 'theee man'," she said.

Where'd you meet the asshole," I said.

"I was eating lunch at a café just down the street from the motel on Tuesday," she said. "The guy just came up to me and sat down across from me. He said he knew me from long ago. But, I don't think that that was true; I'd have remembered, and I didn't. It was just a line I guess. Anyway, we talked for a long time. But that was all."

It occurred to me that the guy was very likely one of the many guys that had banged her back in the old days. She just didn't remember.

"What did you do, and I mean all of it, Lana, all of it; even the little stuff."

She really was scared now. My tone didn't allow for any mistakes.

"Yesterday we went to a motel; I admit it. The knight's Inn, as you said. We sat on the bed and talked-and then-"

I waited.

"And then he took his clothes off. I was so shocked that I just sat there with my mouth open."

"What did you do with the guy? I mean it. I want the truth," I said, furious with myself for even carrying on this conversation.

"That's just it, Jess, I didn't do anything. I got up and walked out. I realized that I could not risk what we have-you and I. And, I just walked out."

I got up and started pacing back and forth. "You just walked out," I said looking her in the eyes: her pupils didn't dilate. She was telling the truth.

I sighed. The woman, my woman, would be fucking men to death when she was eighty. I wasn't about to dump an athlete of her obvious talent; I needed some TLC myself these days. The big V was helpful, but for it to work I had to be hot, and nothing made me hot like my wife made me hot. She might be a slut, but she was my slut, and I love her; I always will.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Lieutenant
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She cheated with his boss--big mistake.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/67438/the-lieutenant
Published:2011-02-25
My wife Ginger and I-my name is Max Bertulucci- have been married twenty-one years. We have three children all girls. My day job is as a manager for an electronics warehouse in the city. Ginger is a full time housewife. But, lately she has become restless as the last of our babies has finally left the nest. She's become antsy and is easily upset by even the smallest thing, and it had begun to bug me. What I didn't realize, was that she had become vulnerable, vulnerable to other men.

Oh, by the way, my real job is as a black-hand lieutenant; that's right, I'm a mafioso. I run the gambling part of our enterprises-actually just sports cards, but make no mistake it is a very lucrative part of our family's business.

Enzo Bertulucci is my uncle. He's the head, the capo; of a local, newly formed element of the-it shall remain nameless-over-family in Philly. Our family's particular interests lie in the southwest, which part shall also remain nameless. Like most real mofiosi, most of the time we do nothing but live normal lives doing normal things while dealing with the normal trials and tribulations of everyday life.

Ginger has been a wonderful wife and a wonderful mother. The fact that she is the mother of our children, and that she is doing so well at the job, are the reasons she's still alive. Let me explain, and let me say right off: Ginger has no idea what my main job is. I do very well in the electronics business and she appreciates it and makes the most of my income and legitimate business interests. One of my business interests, which she has been making the most of lately, is Mark Williams, my boss at Electro-Mall.

I have always been protective of Ginger. She is always going here there and everywhere. So, I assigned a family soldier to watch her-read watch out for her not spy on her-whenever she was going to be gone from the house for any length of time. The Result? Carlo has come to me with the most humiliating news I had ever had to face. My wife was fucking my day job boss. I told Carlo to get me hard core proof.

It took a couple of weeks, but Carlo had gotten the evidence: photos, videos, audio files; the works. She broke my heart.

I went to my uncle. He told me to stop whining and to take care of my family business or he would do it for me; Then, he slapped me-hard-and told me to stop crying like the baby I was. His last words, again, were for me to handle it, and he walked off.

Handle it! I knew what that meant, and I just couldn't "handle it." Maybe my asshole boss, but not Ginger. I had to come up with something, but what.

I took a couple of days off from the job; I had to think, to plan. I told him, Williams, that I was going to be out of town for a few days. And, I told him why-the truth-that my wife and I were having problems, and I had to have time to think and to get my act together. Mark, bless his stinking soul, was more than happy to give me the time off I was asking for; he couldn't know how happy he'd made me. The fuckwad was faunching at the bit to get into my wife's pants.

When the time came to pay the piper, I was going to be more than happy to be there and to deliver the bad news to the asshole myself. In my mind I could hear him now: begging, screaming, and praying for mercy. There would be none. One does not mess with another man's family, not ever.

I packed my bags and did all of the right things necessary for someone about to leave town. I even had Ginger iron extra shirts for me in case I would be delayed in my return.

"Do you really have to go, Max," she said. "Why can't I go with you? I could use some unwinding too." She was good.

"Ginger, I am going to be doing some business too. I have some other things to attend to. I will be back by Thursday unless something untoward comes up. Okay?" I said.

She made as if to pout, but I could see that she was not all that shaken up with my going. I was wondering what she would have said if I had agreed to her phony wishes and said, "Oh yeah go ahead and pack a bag." I thought for a minute. I decided to do that very thing. It would be telling.

"Ging," I said, after seeming to have rethought my words, "I have decided that you are right. Pack a bag; I'm taking you with me."

Her face clouded over. "No, honey," she said, "I would just be in the way, I guess; you know, of you doing your business. And, I need to be here for some other things this week having to do with church affairs. Father Mario needs me for the sodality meeting Wednesday night."

Yeah, I thought cynically, sodality business my ass. Fucking Mark Williams isn't really high on the list of sodality priorities, but I guess it is of yours you cunt. I was getting dangerously close to doing something precipitously; I had to get outta there. I wondered if she'd ever considered fucking Fr. Mario. She kissed me passionately as I headed for the door with my bag. I kissed her back, and hustled out to the cab that had been waiting for me.

The cab was driven by a cousin of mine, and he dropped me six blocks away to a waiting rental car that I would be using for the next few days. I wanted to catch them in the act myself. There's just something kinda neat about nailing cheaters in the act. It doesn't make up for all of the pain that they cause, no way, but it does feel pretty good. I was planning on feelin' real good for sure. But, I was also sick at heart. When a woman chooses a lover over her husband the degree of hurt is almost beyond measure. My stomach had not stopped churning since Carlo had laid all of the hard evidence on me.

I checked in at a local motel and then drove back to a street one over to wait for the asshole's car to come by; his mustard yellow Z-car would be difficult to not notice. I could have had Carlo sit and wait for the guy, but this one I had to do myself; no, I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to experience firsthand my wife's infidelity. I didn't want to just hear about it, see pictures about it, or any of that; I wanted to see it with my own eyes. I'd already seen the damn pictures! And, as I said, I also wanted to see their faces when I caught them with their pants down.

I knew he'd soon be going to my house once he was sure my plane had taken off; I knew because of the bug I'd put on my phone at the house: working at an electronics firm for more than twenty years had its upside.

Evidently, I had no more than told Mr. Williams about my plans to be out of town than he was on the phone to my beautiful and traitorous wife Ginger making a date with her. I listened again to the tape I'd recorded.

"Hello," she said… Oh, yes, Mark… really… yes… I'll be home tomorrow… the idiot is going where… oh, okay… park a few houses down… yes, after dark… don't want the neighbors getting nosey… okay, see you tomorrow night… love you too… bye."

She was worried about the neighbors. That was something. We had bought the house we currently lived in because of the treed nature of the neighborhood and the privacy that it afforded. Yes, it was possible that someone might notice a strange car at the house, but it would have been unlikely to raise any red flags. Different visitors had come over, and often stayed over, fairly regularly over the years. We had a lot of friends and relatives-we were Italians for cryin'-out-loud!

Idiot? She referred to me as an idiot. She was insulting me on the phone to the asshole. I hadn't heard all that was on the tapes that Carlo had given me yet. I wondered what other insults I was going to have to endure. I was pissed before, but I was more than pissed now, and I was hurting. My wife! She was my wife! I loved her. I couldn't believe she held me in such contempt. I had always been good to her. I thought back over the past year. Had there been any sign that something was going on? If there had, I hadn't seen it. I still didn't.

The sex had been regular if not spectacular. The bills were paid. The children were our pride and joy. Both of our families were supportive and always in evidence. What was the hang up? What had I done? What did Mark Williams have that made me expendable as a husband? What made her call me an idiot? Again, what else had she called me, I wondered? Was she thinking of divorcing me? I'd heard her say she loved him. I had a lot of questions. But, I would be patient; I would have my answers one way or another.

I had decided that I wanted, no needed, to know everything I could. I had determined to not just walk in on them and bust them. I wanted to hear more and be there when I heard it. If I just broke them up, I might not ever know the real reason that she was doing this to me, and I really-really needed to know, for my own sanity.

His can of mustard passed me at low speed. I followed him; I knew where he was going; I didn't need to hurry.

He'd followed her instructions: he parked four houses down the block and made his way up to my house. I parked right behind him and checked to see that the little recorder I had brought with me was ready to go. I got out, made it to the side of the house, and quietly went around back.

Our house is actually three stories, though appearing to be but two stories from the front. Built into the side of a gentle slope, the basement is accessible only through the back. Unless they were planning to fuck in the basement, unlikely because of the large sliding glass door, they'd never see me enter the house.

They weren't in the basement, and they didn't see me. They were howsoever in the den, just off the kitchen. I could hear them clearly.

"He got himself off and gone then," said the asshole.

"Got off?" said my wife.

"You know what I mean, he left, he went on the trip," said the asshole.

"Yes. And, for a moment there it was a little dicey; he almost had me go with him. Boy would that have been a bitch: having to stay with him in a small hotel room for four days. He would have wanted to fuck for sure, and I really didn't want to be near the little scuzzbucket," said the whore. "Not when I could have your nice big thingy doing me."

"I see what you mean. It was good for both of us, I guess, that I had gotten the proof of his cheating on you," he said.

I was stunned! I hadn't cheated on her! What proof. Then it occurred to me. Working for an electronics firm had been convenient for him too: he'd manufactured proof of infidelity on my part. He'd corrupted my wife. I felt a little better, not much, but a little.

The big question for me was why hadn't she come to me, raged at me, threatened to divorce me. Had she done so the truth would have come out, and Mr. Williams would have had a real bad day. Well, he was going to have one anyway.

I moved to the bottom of the stairs that led up to the kitchen. I hadn't yet totally decided what I was going to do. I had no weapon with me. I suddenly realized that I might need one. I was short, maybe five-five, just two inches taller than my wife, and weighed maybe one-forty-five. I was a hard body though, and I had always been able to make good account of myself even in high school. But Mark was six-two and well over two hundred; I needed an equalizer. I saw it: a foot long monkey wrench. I'd left it on top of the wet bar here in the basement a few days before. I'd needed it to handle a small plumbing job. I picked it up.

I climbed the stairs and listened through the bead-curtain that we used in place of a door. At the top I could hear them even better: they were slobbering all over each other.

I very slowly eased around the corner and into the kitchen staying low, so that they couldn't see me from the den beyond. They wouldn't see me I knew, unless they actually came into the kitchen; I gambled that they wouldn't. I squatted next to the breakfast bar just ten feet from the sinning pair on the other side. Gawd! how I wished that I'd had a periscope. I clicked on the mini-recorder; I was going to get all I could.

"That's right lover undo those buttons, but slowly, okay; I want this to last," said my wife the whore. I could actually hear it as she slid the satiny material from her shoulders exposing her bra covered breasts: breasts only I was supposed to be touching. My heart sank into a very dark place. I don't know where they came from, but tears started to flow down my face. I was filled with a mix of hate and despair and even love-don't ask me how the latter. Uncle Enzo would not have been proud of his favorite nephew right then: viscerally ashamed would have been more like it.

"Oh, Mark I love it when you are your knees in front of me. Pull them down please," she begged.

"My absolute pleasure," he said. "Mister husband would sure not like to see me doing this," said the cockbite. "Geezsus, you are a one fucking gorgeous female. I will never get tired of seeing this."

"Yes, Mark, like that. Lick me. Oh my! My knees are weak," she said. "I need to get down there with you."

"I can't wait until you dump that little fart," he said.

"It won't be long, dear" she said. "I'm thinking of laying things out to him when he gets back from the little trip he's on. I am going to screw over his cheating ass big time. But today, I want just little bit more revenge," she giggled.

"You bet, little girl," he said.

"Gawd! Mark, do me, do me now; I need it bad."

He looked down at her. The curve of her hips, her feminine softness, her breasts that sagged not at all: conning her had been worth it, he thought. He hadn't really disliked Max, but he had to have his woman, his wife, so he'd set her up. She'd thank him later, he told himself. She'd thank him for showing her what a real man could do for her rather than the inadequate shrimp-assed wimp she'd married.

She crooked her finger at him beckoning him to take her. He stroked his pole once or twice teasing her. She feigned a pouting face.

"Sock it to me," she said. "Hurry up."

I wanted to throw up.

"Yes, Mark, like that. Fuck me. Oh my! My God! Oh! Your cock is so big." She bucked and flailed wildly as he pushed and pulled in and out of her. They came together in a stunning climax.

I had to either get out of there or bust in on them. I was so mad that I almost couldn't breathe, mad and sick to my stomach. I decided to get outta there. I knew what I was going to do, and mister big-dick was never going to be the same.

"I don't know how I put up with that little faggot that I've been married to for so long," she said. "If it weren't for the children I would have dumped him for inadequacy long ago."

She was digging her own grave. No I wasn't going to kill her, but she was going to wish she were dead, and him too. I eased myself across the floor, got through the bead-curtain making almost no noise. I got myself down the stairs, out the door, and I was gone. Back at the car I made a couple of calls. Thirty minutes later a black van pulled up behind me. A big man came to my window. I lowered it.

"You know what to do, yes?" I said.

"Absolutely," said the big man.

"You guys are not to do anything else to him. Nothing, got it?" I said. "I want him to live a long and healthy life-well, almost anyway."

"We got it boss. It's a piece of cake. But, what about…"

"I'll take care of her. I have something special planned for her. She's in for the long haul," I said.

The three men in the black van were patient; they had their marching orders. They had been selected by Enzo my request; I had wanted out of towners for this one, and I didn't want to know who they were; Enzo had concurred with me and had acceded to my request for personnel.

The leader of the little out of town group was Rafael, that's all, no last name; and the first one was not his real name. He'd been selected because of his special empathy with the victim, Max Bertulucci-me. Rafael's wife had cheated on him and the act had nearly driven him to suicide. His boyhood friendship with Carlo, my number one soldier, had offered him a chance to get appropriate revenge on the man that had disrespected him and at the same time a way into the family. He never talked about it, but the rumor was that the disrespecting adulterer had had both of his arms and both of his legs broken. And, there had been an added bonus: Rafael's wife had been forced to watch her lover get what he deserved. Rafael and his wife were still together; everything had worked out just fine; the woman understood that she had run out of chances: she never even thought of cheating again.

At any rate, he was more than happy to help another victimized husband with his marital problem; he was simpatico. The difference in the proposed punishment for this new asshole both amused him and gave him the chills.

It was more than three hours later that the asshole left the my house. Rafael saw the woman waving goodbye to him as he headed down the street to his car.

Rafael's two associates were in the street talking near the asshole's car, and when he came near and dug in his pocket for his keys, they threw a sack over his head, knocked him out, and hustled him into the van. They drove off.

Another car with two men in it drove by three minutes after the van had turned the corner. One of the men got out, got into the kidnapped man's car and drove it off. It would be left in the Electro-Mall parking lot for the asshole to find later. Not a trace of evidence that anyone but the owner had ever been in the car was left for the police to find.

"Carlo, Carlo, Carlo you've done well. Let me be miserable in peace," I said to my number one soldier.

"Max, she is not the devil. She thinks you betrayed her. It was the filthbag Williams who caused the problem," said Carlo.

"He'll get his," I said. 'He'll definitely get his."

Carlo fell silent for a moment. He knew that what I said was true. We both knew that the bad guy was getting his at that very moment. "You could have just had him hit," he said, finally.

"What they did hurt me, but what they did was not reason enough to kill them. They'll suffer enough," said Max.

"I'd rather be dead than go through what that Williams guy is going through," said Carlo.

I had to smile. It was pretty heavy what was happening to the guy, I thought. But, he deserved every little bit of it. The things he'd done, and to Ginger, let alone to Me personally were beyond the pale. I felt not the slightest remorse for any of it.

"Your wife thinks you're away until Thursday?" said Carlo.

"Yes, I intend to stay away till then. I want to cool off a little before I talk to her. It's not something I can do while I am still hot under the collar," said Max.

"I think you are right to handle it that way," said Carlo.

I tilted back his drink draining the glass. I held it high in the universal signal to the bartendress to refill it. Carlo fallowed suit.

The bartendress was Marie Gilson: a slim, blond, blue-eyed babe from Montana of all places. Marie had four boys and a girl, but with maniacal dedication to exercise and good eating habits, she had been able to keep her shape in spite of the mass of birthings and the passage of time: Marie was forty three years old-two years older than me.

She came to us and refilled our whiskeys. So what's the matter with you two guys? You bonding or something? Don't the girls like you?" she laughed.

"You know, Marie," I said, "jealousy is a terrible thing!"

"Yeah, I'm jealous of you guys-not!" she laughed again.

We talked and drank for another two hours before we hit the road.

Thursday morning I packed my small bag and returned to the house. Ginger would not expect me until nightfall, but I was going to surprise her. It was time to go on the offensive.

When I arrived, she wasn't home. I knew that it was her morning to be shopping at the local food store. I put on a pot of coffee and waited. I figured she'd be in around ten or so. At 10:37 I heard the garage door opener engage. I'd set my order of battle.

I was dressed in my good suit. I had a cup of black coffee, newly refilled, on a coaster, on the end table, by the couch where I'd had taken up position. Legs crossed, refreshed, I felt-serene.

I heard the screen door to the kitchen slam as she hustled the groceries into the house. I smiled mischievously: if she'd known I was there, I'd have been the one getting the groceries out of the car. This was getting good, I thought.

I could hear her puttering around in the kitchen putting things away, and likely getting things ready for dinner. I recalled how she intended to lay out my options to me today. I figured that that would be something she'd planned to do after dinner; it was her style. It occurred to me that each of us knew the other pretty well. Well, after twenty plus years of marriage that was to be expected, I supposed.

The noise stopped. I knew she'd finally noticed the coffee pot on and nearly full. She'd be asking herself if she'd somehow forgotten it and left it on. Then, she'd remember that it had not been her. Then, she'd start wondering and looking.

"Max?" she called out. He decided to answer.

"In here, dear," I answered. I waited.

She came into the front room and looked at me sitting on the couch. I was well dressed and confident looking. It shook her.

"Max! How? When? Have you been here the whole time! You couldn't come and helped me with the groceries, announce your presence? Something?"

"I was just relaxing thinking of the little talk that we're going to have," I said.

"Talk! Okay, I'll say we're going to have a talk. I've been wanting to talk to you for a few days now, really longer," said Ginger.

"Oh?"

"Yes Max. Max, I have a lover, and I want a divorce," she announced. Her confidence had returned.

"Hmm, and why would that be, dearheart?" I said.

My calm demeanor shook her confidence yet again. I was taking things in an awfully blasé way, but she continued. "Well, how about because you cheated on me! How about that?" she said.

"And, why would you think that I had cheated on you?" I said.

"Because you had been seen by two different people going into Colby's Inn on several occasions with that hussy!" she said.

Two different people? Interesting. But, I had time.

"Really, and just who is this hussy that I am supposed to be fucking? You are accusing me of fucking her right?"

"Yes, and it's Denise North," said Ginger coolly. Denise was a secretary at Electro. She'd worked directly for the asshole.

"Denise left town weeks ago. Quit and left town," I said. Suddenly, I had it. The asshole had used Denise, probably fired her, or maybe paid her, who knew. But, she wasn't there to corroborate the truth or fallacy of anything. Neat, I thought. Mr. Williams was nothing if not thorough.

"And if I might ask, who was it that saw Denise and me sneaking around?" I said.

"James Michaelson and Mar… " she cut herself off. "It doesn't matter it was two of them," she said.

"And Mark Williams," I finished for her.

"Well, yes, since you have to know. Your very own boss."

"Boss, yes, but not for long," I said.

"What do mean?" she said. She was beginning to suspect all was not right, that she was the one on the carpet, not me.

"Sit down, Ginger. I have a few things to say. When I'm done you can talk, but please do me the courtesy of not interrupting till I'm done. After all, I didn't interrupt you and the asshole today while you were fucking him," I said. She almost fell into the recliner she'd been standing in front of.

"Wha…"

"Yes, I was just in there. I heard it all." I nodded toward the kitchen. The shock on her face was precious.

"Okay," I said. "First off, I never cheated on you, not with Denise, not with anybody else. Secondly, you're a sucker. Williams made you believe I'd cheated so that he could get into your pants. I'm not sure where Michaelson fits into all of this, but he's evidently backing Williams, and if he is, he's had it.

"Next: Inadequate? Little faggot? I deserved to be called names like that? Tell me, dear, how long have you hated me?" I said.

She was terrified now. She tried to gather herself. She was searching for words. She was dead-mortal-lead-pipe-cinch certain now that I had seen them. "Well, I admit, I may have been a little harsh…"

"A little harsh! You tore the heart out of me. I have loved you, honored you, protected you; and all you can say is you were a little harsh! I'd say you went a little beyond harsh, dear.

"I am sick at heart from what you've done to me. Now, I would like to hear what you have to say for yourself," I said. I was actually forcing myself to fight back tears. I didn't want to give up the advantage here, but she saw it, and reacted.

"You're telling me you didn't fuck Denise?" she said.

I nodded, I was afraid my voice would crack.

"But, Michaelson? Your boss?"

"They lied," I said quietly.

She was beginning to think that maybe she'd made a huge mistake. "Maybe I should have asked you, confronted you," she said. "But there were two of them. And, Mark said that there were others-"

"No, there weren't and aren't," I said.

She didn't say the words out loud; she mouthed them: Oh my God! Now she was crying. She was at a loss.

I looked at my watch. I'd told Rafael to wait till noon to make the call. There was still a full hour to go yet.

"Ginger, I said quietly, there will be no divorce. You'll just have to get used to having this little faggot around. You won't be cheating on me anymore, and I mean ever; you won't like it very much if you do.

"I'm not sure how I am going to get by you disrespecting me like you did; but I'll do it somehow.

"You'll continue being the mother of our children, going to sodality meetings, and being the wife that I deserve not the stupid ass whore you've been acting like this past while. Do you have anything to say?"

She was staring. She was almost catatonic. "Max, I-I-I think that I'm sorry. So sorry. I don't know why I should, but I believe you. But what did he…"

"Hope to gain? The arrogant shit wanted into your pants, and that's all, and he succeeded. But, he'll pay. I can assure you of that," I said.

We talked for some time, and then the phone rang. "Please get it," I said. "It's Williams. Talk to him."

"How do you…?"

"Just answer the damn phone," I said forcefully.

They talked for about two minutes. Finally, she hung up the phone. "He admits having lied to me. He said he's sorry. Just sorry! He's ruined me-us-and he's sorry!

"I want you to go to him. Not today, but in a week or so. It will be the last time you see him, but I want you to see him and talk with him. Let him know how you feel. I need you to see him and tell him how it is."

I had an ulterior motive in wanting her to see him. He would be "her" object lesson. It would be one she would never forget.

"Max, about my wanting a divorce…"

"I told you, there will be no divorce, and that's the end of it."

She nodded. She was too unnerved to argue the point, and she clearly didn't want to in any event.

"We will speak of this again after you've done what you need to do," I said. "Don't forget, in a week's time."

"Okay," she said.

Nine days later, she made the call to her ex-lover. He sounded strange, but he invited her over.

She'd find him alone in his apartment about four miles up the road. I gave her ten minutes to get there. Geezsus, how I would like to have been there, but that wasn't the plan.

She mounted the steps to his second story apartment. She knocked lightly and entered without waiting for him to open the door.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," she returned.

"My husband… " She took a seat across from him.

"He knows," said Mark. "I'm aware."

"He told me to come here," said Ginger. "I'm not sure why, really. But, he insisted. You lied to me, Mark. You all but ruined my life and his and our children's. That was just plain evil."

"I wanted you, but that isn't even possible anymore. Your husband is a very dangerous man," said Mark.

"You're lucky he didn't beat you to death after he found out," said Ginger.

"Beat me to death? I wish he had," said Mark. "What he did to me is far worse."

"Worse than being dead?" said Ginger. "I hardly think so."

"You say he told you to come here to talk with me, but you didn't know why," said Mark.

"No. He just said I had to come here."

"Well, he had a reason. I am being forced to be here with you too," he said. "I think it is the second worst moment of my life," he said.

She inclined her head as if to say she didn't understand.

"I have something to show you. If I do not, he will kill me and all of my family back in Illinois. He is not bluffing. This is the why you are here," he said.

Mark stood and dropped his pants.

"Don't you take your…"

She stopped in mid-sentence. Her mouth hung open, no words escaped. Her face reddened. "Mark! You're…!"

He started to cry. "I guess I blew it," he said.

The phone in the kitchen rang; it shook me out of my reverie.

She was screaming into it! "My God! Max, how could you have done something like this! It's awful! The worst! He didn't deserve this. My God!" She settled down but she was sobbing.

"Get home now. Leave him. And, Ginger, yes he did deserve what he got." I hung up.

She was home in nine minutes. I braced myself for the assault. She stormed into the living room; her face was streaked from her crying. I was again seated on the couch. This time I had a straight vodka in my hand.

"Jesus, you monster!" she said. "You castrated him!"

"I was here the whole time," I said. "I didn't do a damn thing, but confront you with your infidelity. And, defend myself against your threat of divorce.

"He on the other hand was rubbing his hands together in anticipation of porking you tonight. You know, during your sodality meeting," I said, about as sarcastically as I could.

Her face flushed momentarily.

"You must have had help, but you did it," she accused.

I just sat and waited.

"You cut off his balls," she sobbed.

"But, I let him live, and his family" I said. "That could change if anything untoward happens to me. Anything!" I said.

Ginger was having trouble even blinking. Her mind raced. If she had been terrified before she was way beyond that now. "Who are you?" she said, at last. "He's a eunuch. What have you done?"

"Who am I? Someone it is not a good idea to mess with. Learn that now, immediately. I am not bluffing," I said.

She was shaking. I knew she'd get over it. I also knew that she was not going to be looking for anymore strange either. Not ever.

A couple of weeks after the day of reckoning, we were all seated at Uncle Enzo's table. The conversation was light and happy.

After dinner, he and I were out on the veranda smoking pipes. Aunt Betina would never allow smoking in the house.

"I hear you handled your situation," he said.

"Yes."

"Good. Ginger is a fine woman. But, she's a woman. She needs a man's hand to guide her. Just do your job, and let her do hers. It's the way of nature," he said.

"I understand," I said. And, I did.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Maintenance Man
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A janitor, with culture, catches the eye of a high class lawyer; can they make a go of it?
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/57059/the-maintenance-man
Published:2008-07-10
I'd like to thank fdk262 for all of his help and insights in developing this story; it was invaluable to me.

******

Love (understood as the desire of good for another) is in fact so unnatural a phenomenon that it can scarcely repeat itself, the soul being unable to become virgin again and not having energy enough to cast itself out again into the ocean of another's soul. (James Joyce)

******

My name is Charlie Flowers, and yes I was teased about it a lot in high school. Until I met my wife to be, more about her a little later, I had never considered it, but I think my name may have had something to do with the way I turned out psychologically and emotionally, even socially. If you remember that old Johnny Cash song, A Boy Named Sioux you'll have some idea of what I'm talking about.

I never went to college, never learned how to drive a car let alone owned one, never played football in high school, never gave my slightly less than five inch dick a second thought, and never worried much about what other people thought or said about me. I was and remain my own person; Jack Kerouac could have written a book about me. I was a physical clone of my dad: five-seven, 148 pounds, unruly brown hair, a fast smile, and a steel hard body.

We never had much money, but dad made sure there was always food on the table, clothes on our backs, new shoes every Christmas, and a loving home.

Dad worked for Ardmore Building Materials: rock, sand, hollow block et cetera. He always worked hard, too hard as it turned out; he died of a heart attack brought on by overwork at the age of forty-three. His death made life hard for mom and me. There was some insurance from the company he worked for, but mom did have to get a job. One upshot of his death was my mom's determination to see to it that I didn't die young like my dad did. There would be no second generation working for ABM.

In high school I dated some, I was fairly good looking. Got serious with Betty Biggler-and she sure was. But upon graduation I had to get a job, and they were scarce at the time. My mom helped out there though. The building she worked in as a receptionist had openings on its maintenance crew. I was hired three weeks after graduating; my nineteenth birthday was only a week away.

Being on the crew was rewarding for me. Jack Spires, the crew boss, knew everything there was to know about keeping a high rise office building operating at maximum efficiency. Our job, as one of the four full time maintenance crews, was to keep our floors of the building clean and running smoothly, and, as unobtrusively as possible. I was a quick study and learned as much as I could from Jack and that was a lot: carpentry, electrics, welding, plumbing, and yes how to swing a mop and make the building's bathrooms shine. Oh, there were other floor crews, mostly women, who took care of the office cleaning and the like; but none of them handled electrics, plumbing, carpentry and stuff like that; that was our job.

I may not have gone to college, but I sure as hell "twernt" no ignoramus. My lineage may have been one hundred percent blue collar, but I saw that as a plus.

My interests outside of work included girls, reading, music, and Okinawan martial arts. I learned the latter from a neighbor who took pleasure in teaching a few of us neighborhood boys what he knew, and it was a helluva lot. My love of good books and classical music came from my mom. My success with girls was a direct hand-me-down from my dad; he got hit on more than my mom did, and she was a mighty nice lookin' lady for damn sure.

After my thirteenth year on the job at the Hobbes building Jack retired, and I took over as crew chief. I was thirty-one and making forty grand annual; times were good.

******

I was sitting in the fifth row at the Cultural Center behind a bunch of men dressed like undertakers most of whom were escorting women too young for them. I didn't own a tux, but I was wearing my best dockers, long sleeved white shirt and tie, and my corduroy sports coat. I looked pretty good, I thought, but I did stand out.

It wasn't so much that I noticed her; it was more that she noticed me. Like I said, I kinda stood out dressed as I was. It was intermission as I recall now, and I had just gotten a cup of joe from the refreshment table in the foyer. I had stepped out onto the adjacent patio and was sipping it when she came up to me. She had laughing eyes that were absolutely captivating. Her dark, two-inches above the knee evening dress had to have been created to go with her hair and complexion. She was gorgeous.

"Hi, my name's Marylou, Marylou Keynes," she said extending her hand. I took it.

"Mine's Charlie," I said. Suddenly I was FFT, flustered, flattered, and turgid. This was a very high tone gal, I thought to myself, way out of my league economically and sure as hell socially. Hell even I could see her dress was worth more than all of the furniture in my living room-including my new sound system.

"You enjoy opera?" she said.

"It's not opera," I said. "It's a concert featuring operatic arias sung by some pretty good performers. I love the music, but not so much the operas per se."

"You know a lot about this kind of music?" she said.

"A little. I was raised on it. My mom liked it," I said. "I guess I got my taste for it from her."

"Your mom? What's she do?" said Marylou.

"She died last year," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, really." I nodded and shrugged. "Can I ask? What do you do for a living?" she said.

"I'm a crew chief at the Hobbes building downtown," I said.

"Sounds impressive. What kind of crew?"

"Janitorial," I said.

"Yeah right," she laughed.

I just smiled. I was used to it.

"What do you do?" I said.

"I'm a lawyer. As it happens, our firm's offices are in the Hobbes Building too: Hartfield and Lomb, H&L.; How weird is that," she said.

That stopped me. This gorgeous gal worked where I worked.

We talked for the fifteen minutes of intermission, and she challenged me to call her. She handed me her business card after pulling a pen from her purse and writing her home number on the back. I'd never call her of course; it was clear that we traveled in totally different circles and "… never the twain shall meet," as Kipling had said. Or, a least that is what I thought at the time. I was wrong and wrong on a lot of levels.

******

Brody and I had just finished scrubbing down the woman's head on the fourteenth floor one day. I was just collecting the yellow caution standard when she walked by on her way to an underwriter's office on that floor. My back was to her. I was yelling at Brody to get his freakin' butt moving when I heard a female voice call my name. "Charlie?" said a very soft female voice.

I turned and Brody was standing there staring at the woman as though mesmerized. She was wearing a tan power suit and a beautiful necklace of what had to be real pearls. Her three inch heels were oh so damn feminine.

"Marylou," I said. "Surprise, surprise." I smiled at her obvious discomfort.

"You-you really are a janitor," she said quietly, as though still not quite believing it.

"You betcha," I said, still smiling, "and proud of it."

"Of course-I mean-well, of course." She offered me her hand and I took it. We shook. "You haven't called me."

I started to laugh. "Now, what would your big shot friends on the 20th say if you went out with a lowly janitor," I said.

"Wha-I-"

"Exactly," I said. "Marylou, you are one hot female, but it wouldn't work. Just let it be."

She looked pensive.

"Charlie, call me. I want to go out with you."

"You wanna go out with me. A charity date maybe? Be kind to riffraff week maybe? Brody, did you get the memo? Is it be kind to the riffraff week do you know?" I said.

She looked as if she was about to cry. "Charlie, I admit, I did think that way about you when I saw you in here cleaning-but, I'm really not like that. Call me, I mean it," she said. "Or-or-or I'll sue you."

"Okay, don't cry for chrissakes. You wanna go out. I will meet you out in front of this building at 5:30 tomorrow evening. You get off at five right?" I said. "If you don't show don't sweat it; I'll understand."

"Okay. But, why don't you pick me up at my place?"

"I don't drive. And I don't wanna know where you live, not yet. Or you where I live. Here in front of the building at 5:30. That'll give you a chance to freshen up in those fancy quarters you've got up there. Oh, by the way, jeans, heels, and a shirt or blouse or something-bra optional," I said grinning broadly.

Her eyes bulged at my boldness. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"You'll see; it'll be fun. That much I can promise you," I said.

******

She was on time. In fact she was there before I was. She looked around thinking I might have stood her up. I had seen her when I came down the stairs of the mezzanine. She heard my hello from behind her. She turned. "Hi," she said.

"You look good," I said.

"You're still in your working clothes."

"I'm gonna change shirts and clean up when we get there," I said. "I go there a lot, I got clothes there. It ain't fancy dancy, but it's convenient for me. You know, a lot of cowboys and blue collar types just getting off shift. Like I say, it ain't the Ritz, but it's loud and fun."

"Whatever," she said, not knowing what else she could say. A taxi pulled up to the curb.

"I called it," I said. "It's too far to walk."

She shrugged. On the ride over I could see she was thinking. This had to be a first for her. I had the feeling she'd never even met anybody from the working class before let alone dated any such.

"Feel okay?" I asked.

"Truthfully, a little strange. I hope you will cut me some slack tonight," she said.

"More like I will work with you to cut a rug," I said laughing. She laughed too, banishing her nerves, I hoped.

We arrived at the Dirty Dozen at around 6:15. The DD was a sawdust joint catering to country western wannabes. The dancing had already started and I pulled her out into the line dance even before we found a table or ordered drinks. I was still in my work clothes, but the song was mine, I'd change and clean up when it was over. She was a little messed up at first with the footwork, but she was soon into it.

The dance ended and everybody yahoo'd and returned to their tables while a slow dance was played for the romantically inclined. I led her over to a table near the back. I wanted to be able to talk to her, and that would have been impossible near the bandstand.

I sat her down, and before I settled in, I signaled to Lorilei, my favorite supplier of yellow pepsi, to bring a pitcher while I ran into the back room to make myself presentable. I returned in minutes: I think it was a record in terms of time elapsed.

'You did good out there," I said, returning to the table. "You looked like a good 'ole country girl."

"Not really, 'fraid I'm a city girl," she said. "But this is nice. Glad you brought me."

"Well, I'm glad you're glad."

The rest of the evening we danced and hoorah'd with the crowd and then it was time to go home.

I walked her to her door; I now knew where she lived, and she didn't wait for me to initiate things. She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a serious kiss. I returned it.

"Wow!" I said, "and on our first date too."

"Just wanted to make sure you'd ask me out again, mister. I really did enjoy myself," she said.

"Next Friday night?" I said. "Pick up at the Hobbes same as tonight."

"You got it. Can I choose the place?" she said.

"Seems fair to me," I said.

"Good, seven o'clock," she said. I nodded. She disengaged herself. "Oh, and I'll drive next time. Okay?"

"Okay, if it will make you happy," I said. She smiled and blew me a kiss goodbye.

The next several days was work, work, work same as always. Marylou had gotten under my skin. But, I hadn't seen or heard from her at all since our previous date. But, on Thursday, the day before our next date, that changed.

Brody and I were again cleaning the heads on the fourteenth when I heard a familiar female giggle. I saw Marylou with a man in a small alcove a little ways down the corridor. A potted plant outside of the men's room we'd just cleaned hid me from view pretty completely. Brody was still inside the washroom reloading our cart and dumping the mop bucket before joining me to do the women's restroom.

"So you stood me up to go out with a janitor? Is that what you're telling me, Marylou?" The man was tall, maybe six-five. Hell he was almost a foot taller than me. The suit he was wearing was expensive, probably some big shot lawyer, I thought. The suit made it hard to gauge his weight, but he was definitely a super heavyweight.

"Yeah, and so what! You don't own me Brad. He made me laugh. He might not be much, but he was interesting: a change of pace, if you know what I mean."

"Did you fuck him? That would piss me off," said Brad.

"No. I felt his cock through his pants a few times though. He's just a little guy when it comes to his equipment. Still, I might try him out just to see what it's like," she said. "But, don't sweat it, big boy, you still have first dibs."

They laughed and moved off toward the elevators at the other end.

As they waited for the elevator to arrive, I heard Brad make one more comment. "A fucking janitor for chrissakes! Stood up for a fucking nothing janitor!" They both laughed. She took his arm and let him lead her into the elevator that would rocket them to the 20th.

Brody finally showed up with the cart. "Okay, lets' do the other one," he said.

"Yeah, let's get it done," I said, as he pushed the cart toward the little girl's room.

I had a lot to think about. I wondered, having heard what I'd heard, if she'd even show up for our date the next day. But then, I decided that I wasn't going to go out with her anyway. I could give a rat's ass what people thought of me. But, a guy likes to date girls that at least respect him, and she clearly didn't respect me. She was just slumming. I wasn't in to being a slum. Still, I was curious to see if she'd show up. I figured out what I would do and how I would handle the situation.

*******

She was a few minutes late. She pulled up in her Mercedes and motioned me to come on and get in. I just stood there. She wrinkled her brow and looked me askance. I just remained still and waited to see what she would do. She turned off the engine, got out and walked around to me as I leaned against the building. She was clearly confused.

"Do you want me to help you to the car and hold the door for you? " she said, sounding a little miffed.

At first I didn't say anything. Then she started to flush, I could see she was getting angry.

"I decided not to go," I said.

"What! Why?" she said.

"Well, I might not be much, and my little guy ain't exactly a cruise missile; but I ain't into being somebody's change of pace."

"Huh? What are you talking about," she said, raising her voice.

"Oh, I suppose I should be flattered that you stood up Brad to date a janitor; but frankly I require at least a little respect from the girls I date. No matter what Brad thinks, or you either, I ain't no joke lady. Anyway, I ain't goin'. Call him, the night's still young. You can both have a real good laugh tellin' your high brow friends all about it," I said.

Her face paled. Clearly her memory was kicking in. "Oh my gawd!"

I turned and walked off. I felt pretty good. It was only later that I began to feel-well, not good. I had no reason to feel bad; I knew that. I hadn't done anything wrong, and it made no sense for me to be down. But-the woman-she wasn't just a woman-she could have been "the" woman. Ah hell, it made no sense any of it!

******

The next few days were hard on me, and Brody and the boys on the crew noticed it.

"Okay, sport," said Brody, "what's goin' on? You're clearly out of it, and it's affecting our work," he said.

"Nothing, I can't handle," I said. "I'm just not feelin' too good."

"Yeah, I get it. You're not feelin' too good. Women'll do that to a man," he said.

"Shut the hell up, Brody. I'll handle it my way, okay?" I said.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Charlie, I asked around. Yeah, I know it's none of my business, but I asked around anyway. That broad sleeps around. And I mean with almost anybody. If it's got a cock attached to it, she's probably tried it."

Brody backed off and held up his hands in mock defense when he saw my look. Oh, I knew he probably was right, but hell, I weren't exactly no virgin either. So what if she got her rocks off with a variety of men. I really didn't give a damn, at least not at that moment.

It was later that day that I got a call to come to the boss's office in the basement. I knew we were scheduled to get some new equipment, and we sure needed it. I figured the boss wanted to see me about that. I was wrong.

I looked at my watch: 3:00. I was on time. I went in. The boss's chair was turned backwards facing the wall. When I coughed, he swung around to face me. But Cass Walters had changed. He was now a beautiful woman!

"Ms. Keynes," I said, somewhat flustered.

"Ms. Keynes? We've kissed, Charlie. You can call me Marylou."

"I was called down here to talk to Mr. Walters," I said. "But, it looks like I was set up. I was wasn't I?"

"'Fraid so, Charlie. I had to speak with you, but I know you wouldn't have come up to the office or to my apartment; so I asked Cass, Mr. Walters, to help me out."

"You know Cass?" I said.

"Oh yes, Charlie. He and my father were in the army together, Vietnam actually. Our two families have been friends forever," she said.

"Charlie," she began, "obviously you overheard me and Brad Carlson in the corridor last week. I can't tell you how bad I feel about the things we-I-said. They were inexcusable. Horrid, actually. I can't believe that I was such an asshole. Brad on the other hand is a professional asshole."

I couldn't help laughing at her way of expressing herself.

She looked down, a serious expression painting her face. "I am here to beg you to forgive me for what I said. I have no excuse. I have felt so bad since that afternoon that I haven't been able to work effectively. I really like you Charlie. If you are good enough to do that, to forgive me, I promise to make it up to you."

I looked at her. Hell, I thought, she's a human being; she makes mistakes too. I could list more than a few of my own for damn sure. My problem was that I knew that I really wasn't in her league. If I did go out with her again, sooner or later, as sure as the sun rose in the east, we'd come up against that stone wall of class-ism that I saw exhibited in the corridor that day. Even if it wasn't expressed outwardly the whispers would be there, about that there was no goddamn doubt.

What I couldn't figure out was why she had picked me, why she wanted to fool around with me in the first place. For sure I was not into assuaging her guilt only to be dumped, gently of course, somewhere down the line when she realized that it wasn't going to work.

"Marylou, I do forgive you. I've done and said stuff I wish I hadn't too. But, it's more than that. One, I don't have all that big an ego, but I absolutely demand respect from my dates, really from anybody. Your friends-well-they are never going to be my friends; they don't respect guys like me. And, I hear you sayin' that you're sorry and didn't mean the things you said about me, and maybe that's so; but really, I don't think you ever could really respect a guy who swabs out toilets; it just ain't you, and it's obvious.

"Girl, we don't move in the same circles, and for the record, I like my circles better than yours. I'm not going to ever fit in with the crepes and caviar set. I think you know it too. Sometime in the future you'd have to choose, and you'd choose what you're used to, and that wouldn't me and mine," I said.

"Charlie," a trace of upset had crept into her voice, "I came here today to beg your forgiveness. You can have mercy on this poor soul of mine, or you can kick my pretty pink ass the hell outta here. But Charlie, don't you ever presume tell me what I think or predict how I will act. You don't know me that well, Charlie. And, in spite of my acting the way I did last week, I am really not like that. I only ask that you give me the chance to prove it. Will you do that, Charlie? One chance. If I blow it well"-she looked at my shoes-"you'll still have those size eight boots to kick me to the curb with. What do you say?

"Charlie, I take it back, maybe I am a snob. I don't know. And I know I'm not making any sense. What I can tell you is, if I am a snob, I don't want to be one anymore; the cost is much too high, and I am not willing to pay a price that high."

I hesitated then I spoke, "Marylou, I have a bad feeling that I'm going to regret this, but okay. You're right. I don't have the right to presume whatever the hell it is that you will or will not do in the future."

She spun out of the chair and came quickly around to me. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me so hard on the lips I was afraid my recently completely dental work might be compromised.

"That was nice," I said. "Now, it's my turn." I kissed her gently and lovingly.

"Hmm, I liked that," she said. "Tomorrow, a party, I think it is still my turn to choose where we go. As I recall you stood me up last time. I intend to show you off."

"What kind of party," I said.

Her face showed some concern. "Hmm, yes, it is going to be formal. I assume you don't have a tux," she said.

"You assume correctly," I said.

"No problem, I'll rent you one," she said airily. "I know a place."

"Marylou, I don't…"

"Let me handle this one, okay. You're my handsome guy. I want to show you off. I especially want Brad to wish he were you. Just leave it up to me. Okay?"

"Okay, it's against my better judgment. But, okay." I had a bad feeling about this, but it was her show.

******

I arrived at her apartment early as she had requested. When she opened the door in response to my knocking my entire body turned to stone except for my little man; he turned to tungsten alloy.

She was totally naked except for her high heels and her stockings. Her shaved pussy completely stunned me. Her smile brought me back to the present. "Geezsus, you're beautiful," I think I said.

"Come in, Charlie, unless you want to share me with the community," she laughed.

Closing the door behind me, she marched across the room and posed for me. I couldn't take my eyes off of her slit. She was amazing. In her heels, she was three inches taller than me. She looked like Hippolyta reborn.

Recovering from my near coma experience, I asked, "I thought we were going to a party?"

"We are, but we're going to have our own little party here first, if you don't mind," she said.

"Mind? I don't mind. Why would I mind?" I said, my voice actually squeaking.

Marylou giggled. "Good, because I need you tonight," she said. She crooked her finger at me, "Come here sailor."

My rubber legs somehow got me to her. She placed her hands under my chin and looked into my eyes. She kissed me. Our bodies had not touched. They did now. She leaned forward and wrapped two of the softest arms imaginable around me. We kissed again. I had to lean my head back a little to kiss her; she looked down at me, into my eyes.

She stepped back and took my hand. She led me into her bedroom.

The room was large. A queen size bed covered with a yellow comforter dominated the center of the room against the far wall. A vanity stood across from the foot of it. There was a walk-in closet, the door to it partially closed. A divider wall cut off the view to the bath on the right. And a large bay window, with the curtains pulled closed, filled the remaining wall.

We embraced once more and she beckoned me to follow her to the bed. She lay on it and waited smiling up at me. She was so beautiful. Her dark brown hair splayed out from around her face. Her lips were cherry red. Her eyes were dark and indescribably perfect. Her breasts stood out from her, small and perfect and firm. She smelled wonderful.

I stopped a few feet from the bed and undressed. I had to feel her naked body against my naked body. Disrobed, I stood for a moment and gazed at her. My cock stuck straight out from my body and pointed directly at her. She reached for it as I stepped closer. She grasped it and pulled me to her mouth. I knelt above her, over her face. She licked the glans and then let the shaft slip between her lips and into her mouth; the warmth of it affected my mental processes like few things I had ever experienced in my entire life. The woman was not merely human; she was something else, something on a higher plane; it was intense.

I felt myself building to a climax. I started to pull out, but she denied me and I spurted inside her warm mouth; she swallowed it all.

"Your turn," she said. I didn't have to be told twice. I slid down her body and she splayed her legs for me. I stared at her most secret place and moved close to it, not ready to touch it yet; I wanted to experience being close to it smelling her musk, gazing at her pinkest place. I licked her slit from base to clit. My tongue played with her clit and she began to squirm: she was clearly very sensitive. It was some minutes before she began to stiffen and jerk.

"Yes-yes-oh my yes!" she said in a guttural voice totally alien to anything I had ever heard her utter up to that moment. She screamed her orgasm and it swept over her; juices poured from her pussy and smeared themselves on my face; I made no attempt to wipe them from me; I wanted her smell to remain as long as possible. Gawd! how I loved this woman. Yes, loved!

We lay gathering ourselves for the next round. The party was forgotten for the moment; there was only the two of us bathed in sweat. We existed in a different and timeless reality. I coaxed her onto her belly. For a minute I massaged her back; then, gently forcing her legs apart I knelt once again between them and lowered my face to her anus. I buried my face in her.

She attempted to look around: I had surprised her, but then she relaxed and I had my way with her. I licked and kissed her butt hole until she started to wiggle her fanny in impatience.

My cock was dancing over her just as I slid it into her pussy as she lay passive under me. I drilled my whole almost five inches into her and she oohed and ahhed as it passed from her labia into the walled muscle of her vagina. I began pushing and pulling in a studied rhythm. I could see her grasping the sheets above her head as she reacted to me. Soon I was punishing her loins pounding her relentlessly. She stiffened yet again as she orgasmed just before I did. I emptied what seemed a quart of semen inside of her. I collapsed on top of her and after a moment rolled off and onto my back. She rolled over and looked at me.

"It seems you know what to do with that little fellow of yours," she said.

She had not realized that she had just belittled the size of my penis. I took no offense since none had been intended. My cock was what it was, and it certainly wasn't anything in terms of size, but I had brought her to orgasm; that was enough for me; I felt good.

I looked at the clock. She saw me and looked too. "I guess we should be getting ready to go," she said. She actually sounded disappointed.

I watched her get up and stride toward the bathroom, her butt swaying from side to side as only the female butt can. She returned in some minutes; she hadn't showered. She seemed to read my mind,

"I want the smell of sex on me when we go to the party," she said. "I want that asshole, Brad Carlson, to know I've been fucked and to eat his heart out because of it. I'm proud you are my boyfriend, and I want him and everyone else to know it."

"Boyfriend?" I was conflicted. Why was she so interested in teasing-perhaps torturing Brad-was I really her boyfriend or just an instrument to punish an ex-boyfriend. I decided to believe that the cup was half full.

"Of course. You don't imagine that I let every animal with a dick do me do you? You have responsibilities now, young man, I'm your woman to love and protect-and-obey." She laughed. "But, we'll talk more about that later. Right now you have to get your clothes on. They're hanging in the closet there." She pointed to the walk-in. "Anyway, hurry up."

I thought about what Brody had said, about her being the town slut. Maybe it wasn't true. I pushed such thoughts from my mind. "Yes, ma'am," I said, gladly obeying her. I was as happy at that moment as I had ever been.

There were no fewer than a hundred cars and limos parked in the secure and reserved parking area of the R.P. Standard: a hotel and convention center favored by the upper crust of the city's professional community. Tonight's gala was an annual affair meant to bring together the powers of legaldom to share and be shared among each other. Sharing what was a question. Some cynics would have said each other's spouses and significant others.

Marylou had gotten me a tux to wear. How she had guessed my size and preferences was a mystery only she could have answered, and I didn't ask.

Herb Gilchrist, a guy I knew from the Hobbes, met us as we meandered among the tables looking for a place to settle in. Herb was a stock broker who did his thing on the twelfth floor; he was also an honored member of the bar, though inactive in that capacity since turning moneyman. We'd talked some over the last couple of years and he'd steered me into investing a few bucks in the market, nothing big, just some safe stuff suitable for a guy watching the pennies.

I liked Herb. He'd advised me to just leave my investment alone, through good times and bad, and I'd so far followed his advice. I was looking forward to using it to help with my retirement someday. That my "someday" was more than thirty years off would work for me, he'd said.

"Hey, Charlie, I see you've come to join us snobs and hypocrites," he said in a voice that only the three of us could hear.

"Wouldn't have missed it," I said. "Let me introduce you to my date. Herb, This lovely lady is Marylou Keynes. She's a refugee from the 20th," I said.

The look on Herb's faced was one of surprise-or something else. He seemed to catch himself.

"Nice to meet you, Marylou," he said. "You a receptionist up there with the barracudas?"

"No, 'fraid not. I'm one of the barracudas," she said, smiling like a tigress on the prowl.

"Oops! Blew it again, didn't I," he said.

Marylou just laughed, "No, Herb, in fact that's one of the nicer things people say about us these days."

"Look you two, come sit with us. Been saving a couple of seats for some good people. And Charlie, you and anyone with you qualifies," he said.

Jane Gilchrist was a card. She knew more off color jokes than Redd Foxx. In between bouts of laughter, some pretty fun dancing, and quite a bit of serious drinking I found myself introduced to at least half a hundred lawyers, including Brad Carlson who exploited the opportunity to ask Marylou to dance.

I had danced with her for several numbers, but I soon found that I had to share time with her with several other men, more than one of which knew who and what I was and clearly held me in controlled contempt as a result. That I didn't give a damn probably showed through. The good news was that I was a better dancer than any of them-I mean a lot better. These guys had to get out more.

Herb and I were on a drinks run for our little group and just returning when Marylou was escorted back to the table by a youngish lawyer named Rick something.

"Short, poor, uneducated, and a janitor, Marylou? You have got to be kidding! You should've been my date tonight," laughed Rick. He looked up to see me standing two feet away with the drinks in my hand.

"Oops," he said, as he slipped away unembarrassed, but definitely amused. I held his gaze for a moment as he retreated. I wasn't at all offended. I was used to assholes, who didn't know me, assuming a lot; he was definitely one of those.

Marylou looked up at me and smiled. She turned in the direction of Rick who was yards away already and flipped him the bird. We all laughed. We otherwise didn't even mention him or his manners.

The evening was going well, that is until about 11:00, when an incident occurred that was going to have instant ramifications.

"You are a wonderful dancer, you know that boyfriend," said Marylou.

I had to blush. Five other people heard her and they all looked at me. "Thanks," I said. "I try."

Looking to my left I saw a commotion at a nearby table. A server, an older man, maybe sixtyish and Mexican by the look of him, was obviously frightened and was trying to apologize to-Brad Carlson!

Brad was standing in front of the man thrusting his finger repeatedly into his chest. "Marylou, excuse me. I'll be back in a second," I said, and strode off the few yards to the scene of the action.

I came up slightly to the rear and to the right of the big man. Reaching, I shoved his hand away from the waiter's chest. "You're drunk man. Let the guy go. He ain't doin' you no harm," I said. My hackles were raised, but I had made no offensive action to that point.

Brad turned to me and smiled. "This is not the concern of the cleanup crew," said Brad. "I'll be sure to let you know when it is."

I moved directly in front of him interdicting his assault on the Mexican. He continued to smile at me and used the same finger he had been poking into the old man to poke me in the chest.

I heard later that he had gotten two or three pokes in before I smothered him in a storm of punches that left him lying semiconscious and babbling on the floor.

Marylou was cut off from me by the crowd as a dozen hands held me back, restraining me from doing anything further to the helpless law dog.

The police eventually arrived, cuffed me, and led me off. I didn't see Marylou till the next morning.

My jailer, a woman, had put me in a cell by myself. She'd heard I'd flattened a lawyer and for some reason that had bought me some credibility with the badges. I even got a cup of coffee late into the night as I sat in that lonely box wondering how I had gotten myself into such a mess.

I was hauled into a small room reserved for inmates and their lawyers sometime early in the morning. I was wearing a yellow inmate jumpsuit when Marylou arrived. I had no idea where the tux I had been wearing was.

"Well, that was an exciting evening," said Marylou. "Brad actually has to see a plastic surgeon today. It seems his face has several serious fractures. I had no idea you were such a tough guy."

"I grew up where it was a good idea to be able to fight," I said. "Listen, I'm sorry for embarrassing you like that. But-I just couldn't let that asshole intimidate the Mexican. I could see…"

"Charlie, shut the hell up. I have posted your bail; that's why I'm a little late. You won't have any trouble with Brad about the fight. His poking you and the old man in the chest was actually illegal; it bordered on assault, and he doesn't need the bad press he'd get for going after you, and neither does the firm.

"On another note, I'll be representing you at your arraignment tomorrow. It should be just a formality. I think I can get you off with minimal damage, but you are not to talk to anybody from the D.A's office. Refer everything to me at my office at the Hobbes. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am, completely," I said.

"Watching you handle the asshole was actually kind of exciting," she said. "Nobody could believe it. He's a pretty big guy."

"Try very big," I said.

******

I was wearing my trademark jeans and three-button Henley. "Not guilty, your Honor," I said, at the prompting of my lawyer.

"Your Honor, motion to dismiss," said Marylou.

"Grounds?"

"No contestant, your Honor. The correspondent declines to press charges."

"Declines? You're telling me that Brad Carlson declines to press charges?"

"Yes, your Honor."

"Wonder of wonders. But, I hear he needed cosmetic surgery?"

"Yes, your Honor," intoned Marylou.

"Costs of the surgery and a hundred hours," he said. "Next case."

"What did he say," I said.

"You have to pay for Brad's surgery and do an hundred hours of community service," she said.

"Geezsus!" I said. "How much is the surgery gonna cost me?"

"Don't know, but at least you're out of the slammer."

"What's the community service part?" I said.

"I'll submit a proposal and get back to you on that," said Marylou. "You might have to help out at a shelter or something, but I'll get you something near your work so it will impact your job as little as possible."

"Thanks for everything, Marylou. I know this could have been a lot worse."

"Damn straight it could. Next time stop after the fiftieth punch; you damn near killed the guy," she said. "Anyway, you're welcome."

"Marylou, I gotta tell yuh, I ain't going to any more of those galas; they're just not for guys like me."

"Charlie, one bad experience does not mean you don't belong, you do. You just…"

"I don't just anything, Marylou. I'm not one of them. I like real people," I said.

"And I'm not real people?" she said. "You don't like me?"

"No, I don't like you," I said.

"Wha…"

"I love you. Marylou. I know this is going to be kind of weird, but I usually get right to something when I feel the need. I feel the need now. Marylou, will you marry me?"

She looked at me with a stunned expression. "Huh?"

"I'll give you the ring tomorrow," I said. "But for gawd's sake say yes to me!"

I was a nervous wreck. I had been planning this since the fight. It's all I could think of while I was behind bars. We'd been out only a couple of times, only spoken at length a few more, and here I was proposing."

"Yes."

"Huh?"

"Yes, I'll marry you," she said.

The words of Christopher Marlowe came to me at that moment. "When both deliberate loves is slight; whoever loved that loved not at first sight."

*******

It was a neighborhood wedding, my neighborhood. Some, a few, of her lawyer buds were there, but only a few; I was glad of that. I, on the other hand had near a hundred supporters.

The ceremony was held in the little Baptist church down the block. The reception was held at Brody's house: he had a yard that was big enough for the event. Eats were potluck and they were great, but I paid Luigi's bakery $200 for the cake, and it was good too. I think our people impressed my new wife and even some of her people. We are a friendly crowd, and we could drink every bit as well as the rich and arrogant. Marylou and I slipped out about two hours into the reception and headed out on our honeymoon.

Marylou had at first pressured me to take her to Vegas; she'd said she would foot the bill. That was our first disagreement; it did not turn into a tiff however. She realized that this was gonna be my decision, and that there was no way I was going to let her pay for it, nor any chance of us going to another big city, even Vegas, for a week's time. We went camping up at Rock Creek. I wanted to be alone with her, and I wanted for us to commune with nature. It turned out to be a good choice; the both of us enjoyed the time away from the helter-skelter world of the big city. We fucked like bunnies on crack!

******

It felt a little strange being back after the honeymoon. I had moved into her condo because it was larger, and things went well for a time. We were in love, and each of us was considerate of the other in terms of our jobs. I was a little uneasy about all of the travel that Marylou's job required, but I knew it was part of the package, so I didn't complain.

She for her part made an effort to respect my job and the work it entailed, though every single one of her peers thought it was way beneath her and certainly any of them. Still, all was well with us.

I was a realist. I knew that even though we were married, she was going to get pressured by many on the twentieth, by many, I mean by the men. All of them thought that they were better than I was because they had gone to college. I chuckled at that. I'd heard them talking in the caf on a million occasions, and apart from the-how shall I say it-the mechanical stuff related to lawyering most of them had about as much culture as a fist full of sand.

During the first year of our marriage the two of us attended any number of luncheons. I still adamantly refused to go to any of the big formal soirees' that the firm committed to; one stint in jail had queered me on them. Luncheons didn't have the same bad aura for me. There was less drinking and less sexual harassment of my wife, and I could live with the inane conversations.

I figured out that Marylou's not being available for all of the company events was making things tough for her. Her friends weren't exactly shunning her, but they weren't cozy with her either. She never complained, but I could see it in her face whenever I knew the 20th was going to be partying. I knew she missed the camaraderie. But I didn't waver: no major galas for us!

There were moments though, when I sensed something was amiss. I couldn't finger it, so I let it slide, but it was always there always in the back of my mind.

She knew my feelings on the matter of the big nighttime parties and she respected them. Or, at least she did until a particular Saturday night.

Marylou had just gotten promoted to junior partner in spite of not playing the game. She was actually proud of the fact that her sex and good looks had evidently not been the only things that she was recognized for. The new position meant more money, and more prestigious clients and less paperwork-paperwork was always the worst for her. She now had a crew of two paralegals who worked solely for her. Her boss, Christopher Mandel, asked her to attend the dinner that would honor her and two others who had been promoted.

When she got home she laid it on me. "Charlie, we have to go to the dinner. We just have to. It's for me, well, for me and Brad and Henry. They were promoted too."

At the mention of Brad's name, my hackles bristled. "No," I said. "I will not subject myself to the stares and asshole remarks of those people."

"Charlie, it's just a dinner," she said.

"Just a dinner? Will there be music? Will there be dancing? Will there be heavy drinking?" I'd asked the series of questions that we both knew the answers to.

"Well-yes, but it's not about that," she said. "It's about me. It's my job. Surely just this once."

She was pressuring me and I didn't like it. Still, I had to admit that even I thought that I was being unreasonable. She'd sure as hell earned her party. But, what had kept me from giving even an inch was the suspicion that if I gave in our marriage would become vulnerable, and the thought scared me. So, I said so.

"Marylou, you know how those people are. I am just afraid that if we start partying with them that our marriage could become a casualty. How many of your associates have been divorced?" I asked.

"Charlie, that's ridiculous," she said. "What do they have to do with us?"

"Answer me," I pressed.

"Okay, all of them," she answered. "But, Charlie they are not us."

"And I don't want to be them.

"Okay," I said, "I'll go this far. You can go without me. Get yourself honored, and then come home. Please don't stay out late. If you do I'll be worried sick. Can you do that? Is that enough? I just can't go to any more of those things; I just can't."

She looked at me. She was obviously exasperated. "Okay," she said, "I guess I understand. I do have to go. The dinner really is for me. I will be home early, but early I mean maybe 10:00 or so. I'll call you if things look like they'll take longer."

"Thank you," I said.

I didn't say any more about it, but Saturday came too soon for me. As she was getting ready I noted that she was dressing especially nicely. The fact is she was stunning. The black chiffon dress she had chosen was a little too short and the neckline a little too plunging to suit me, but I kept my mouth shut. As it turned out, I probably should have said something to her about my concerns. But I didn't.

"How do I look, baby," she said and she twirled in front of me.

"Gorgeous," I said, and she did.

She giggled, and placed a kiss on my cheek in appreciation. "I'll be home early," she said. Five minutes later she pulled out of the driveway and was gone. I had an uneasy feeling, but I suppressed it.

I was watching the news, the 10:00 news. She still wasn't home. I wasn't worried, not much anyway. I figured she'd be coming home later than she'd said. How right I was. But 3:00 o'clock in the morning was not what I'd figured at all. I was asleep on the couch when she came in.

I awoke when I heard the door to the kitchen open and close. She came in and saw me trying to shake the sleep out of my eyes.

"Honey, I'm sorry. I know it's late… " she stopped. She could see me looking at the clock.

"Late? Yeah, it's late. How come?" I said.

"Everyone was talking and dancing and drinking and time just got away from me," she said.

I noticed the disarray of her clothes. There was white spatter near the hem of her dress; it was dried. I tried to not believe what I thought that it surely was.

"Time got away from you?" I said not quite sarcastically.

"Yes I…"

"I'm going up. Coming?" I said.

"Uh-yes, I'll be there in a minute," she said.

I was sick. I knew, or thought I knew, what had gone down. Somebody had been banging her. I knew I had to find out for sure, and who might be involved.

I readied for bed, brushed my teeth and got undressed. I noted that Marylou was taking a long time coming up. I went back downstairs. The shower was on in the downstairs bathroom. I wondered why she would be showering down there, and at 3:00 in the morning in any event. The obvious was not acceptable. She was destroying the evidence!

It was not time for confrontation, and anyway, I had nothing concrete with which to confront her. I went back upstairs and waited for her to come up. It was maybe twenty minutes later that I felt her slipping in bed beside me. She spooned me, and I let her. I needed to sleep and I am sure she did too. Tomorrow would be another day, and maybe a day of reckoning.

Just before my eyes closed for the night, I thought I felt her sob, but I couldn't be sure. Then, I slept the sleep of the weary.

******

I awoke Sunday morning to the sun filling our bedroom window; it was 6:35. The place beside me was empty. I went into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. The events of the previous night came back to me. I wondered where she was. Still in my boxers, I went downstairs. I could smell the bacon; it was mildly comforting.

"Good morning," she said. "Sleep well, I hope?"

"Okay, I guess," I said. She was evidently avoiding the fact that she had come in so late. I had to decide if I was going to let it slide. I'd eat first and then decide. Decisions on an empty stomach were seldom well made.

We ate and talked. She said that they'd complimented the three honorees and each had been asked to speak. Then, the party had begun and the booze had flowed and the clock had gotten away from her. She defended herself.

"I know I said I'd be back by 10:00," she said; "but it was my night and I was so happy and it was-good.

"Will you forgive me for being so late, Charlie? Please?"

I breathed deeply and nodded. "I guess if all you did was have a little fun I can't be angry with you," I said. "But, I was worried. You could have called."

"I know, I should have, but-"

"Okay, we'll just drop it, but no more of these things, okay?"

"Okay. I understand," she said.

I still suspected that there was more to the evening at the Sands than she was telling me, but I wasn't sure that I still really wanted to know. Part of me did, but part of me was afraid.

"Good," I said.

******

The next day I was finishing up organizing our cart after cleaning the women's head on the fourteenth when Brody approached. He motioned me to follow and to be quiet. We were just outside the men's room. I heard voices. My face went dark; one of them was Brad Carlson.

"We gotta back to the office," said Brad. "We can't stay down here and argue with them forever. We'll call in Broderick tomorrow and see if these buttheads can be brought to heel. We need those records and we need them now."

Two men were talking about business, their voices were kinda faint: records or something. Then, the topic changed.

They must have moved closer to the entrance because their voices were clearer now. "I gotta tell yuh, Henry, that was one helluva party Saturday night," said Brad.

"Yeah, I know. Did you get into her pants?" said Henry.

"No, not exactly. She let me feel her up though. And I did get to finger her down there. Is that getting into her pants? I did finally get her to get me off with her hand under the table; but, she cut me off after that. Feeling guilty, I guess. But, I haven't given up. I am going to get some of that sooner or later. That asshole janitor husband of hers ain't gonna be able to stop me." They laughed.

"Sorry, Charlie," said Brody. I just nodded.

We pushed the cart back into the Ladies head, and took a break on the ground floor. I didn't want to be seen by Mr. Carlson. I had to think.

******

I got home at the usual time. Marylou was already there. I wanted to confront her, but I was chicken. I made myself a drink, straight vodka and got myself a beer to chase it with. I finished it, and got me another. An hour later I wasn't chicken anymore.

She'd been watching me drink, something I rarely did when I was at home, at least not during the work week.

"Honey, don't you think you've had enough," she said. It was clear she was concerned, and not just about the amount of booze I was putting away.

I just smiled and made me another. I was getting downright courageous. "No, not yet, but close," I said, finally.

"Honey, is something wrong?" she said.

"Well, now that you mention it. Today I ran into Brad, and he was saying…"

"Oh my gawd! No!" She burst into tears and ran up the stairs. I could hear the bedroom door slam behind her.

Suddenly I was as sober as a Tibetan monk. I sat and waited. I knew, if nothing else, sooner or later hunger and thirst would force her to come down. The sticky part was, I didn't know how I was going to handle it. The only thing I was certain of was that I could not let it go. Something had to happen; I had to do something. It wasn't just a matter of male ego either; it was a matter of self respect.

It was about two hours later that I heard the door to the upstairs bedroom open. She appeared at the bottom of the stairs and looked over at me.

"I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve forgiveness, but I am begging you to forgive me anyway. But, if you kick me out, I'll understand," she said.

I looked over at her. "Do you love me? I mean only me?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Then I'm not going to kick you out."

"Really?" she said. The hope in her voice was palpable.

"Really," I said.

"I don't understand. Why aren't you mad at me? Why aren't you looking for revenge?" she said.

"Because I love you; it's that simple. What I am going to do is to let you tell me what 'you' are going to do about it?"

"Huh?" she said.

"Yes. You get to engineer your own punishment. Or do nothing. It's up to you," I said. I was surprised at my own brilliance. She on the other hand was stupefied. I knew that she would be harder on herself than I would ever be, than I ever could be.

"But, I don't know…"

"It's up to you. Just let me know what you decide," I said. "Now, let's go to bed. I'm feeling frisky."

"It's the middle of the day!"

"Can't fool you," I said. "But, I'm still frisky."

The next three hours weren't punishment in the truest sense of the word, but I punished the hell out of her pussy, and that was a blood mortal fact.

******

It was three days later that I saw Marylou talking to Brody. He pointed toward the end of the hall where I was messing with a shorted out light fixture. She came toward me.

"You here on the 10th in the middle of the day?" I said.

"I wanted to see you. I've been thinking about what I did, and what I intend to do about it," she said.

"'kay," I said.

"Can we get coffee or something," she said.

"Okay, but it'll be a minute. I can't just leave these wires hanging here. Tell you what, head on down to the caf, and I will meet you there in ten. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, in ten then," she said.

I tied off the wires, screwed the fixture back into the wall, put the tools away into my leather belt rack, and headed back down the corridor to the elevators.

I stopped momentarily to inform Brody that I was taking a break. He just smiled at me.

"If I had a beautiful chick like her waiting for me, I'd be taking a break too," he said. I grimaced and punched him in the arm.

Brody was the only guy who could get away with making jokes laced with innuendo about my wife. I was pretty sensitive when it came to her, but Brody was my best friend; he got some latitude.

******

I saw her sitting at a table along the far wall. She already had a coffee cup that she was sipping from. She motioned me to get mine. I headed for the bank of nearby urns.

I got me a cup and joined her. "So, and what's the deal," I said. "You know, I told you, and I meant it, that you didn't have to do anything. I'd have been okay with that. I just wanted to make the point that I know people make mistakes, and so long as you really mean that you love me and only me…"

"Charlie, shut up. I'm a lawyer, and a damn good one. I know perfectly well that you knew I could never live with my guilt for betraying you. You did the worst thing you could to me: you left my punishment up to me!" she said. "Now, I am ready to sentence myself for my wrongdoing." I nodded for her to go on.

"You know, all of the shit they, my so called peers pile on you, is meaningless. You're smarter than any ten of them. The interesting thing is none of those educated assholes is aware of it. You should have been a lawyer."

"Not a chance, I have to sleep at night," I said. "In my job, nobody hates me. I like having real friends."

She frowned at him. "You're saying I don't have any friends?"

"You have Brody and me. But up there? Probably not," I said.

I could see she was not pleased with my assessment. "Charlie, I promise you I will never cheat again. That night-well-never again. I also promise, no more parties that you don't escort me to and stay with me at. Of course Brad is history; I have told the boss that I cannot work with Brad anymore and to not even ask. He understood.

"Finally, I am done with road trips unless you're with me. There must not even be the slightest doubt in your mind about where I'm at. There may be times when I have to work late, but if so you will get a call, and you will know it; and you can pop in on me any time. I worked that one out with the boss too." She paused. "I guess that's about it."

"Marylou, that's fine. All of those things will make it easier on me mentally, I guess. But, I love you, and the thought of living without you is not an option for me. You really have me completely pussywhipped and I love it, I think" I said.

She cradled my cheeks in her hand and kissed me. "I love you too my strong man," she said. "A boatload of Brads could never be your equal." I restrained myself from telling my latest "boatload of lawyers" joke; the timing was bad.

******

For the next several months everything was more or less back to normal between me and Marylou. Eventually Cass Walters changed the shifts as was done periodically. My team, except for Brody were shifted to swing; I now worked 3:00-mindnight. This was good for me in terms of workload, but bad for my relationship with Marylou.

Brody was happy, he had been promoted to crew boss, and got the day shift that I had just been pulled from. I was glad for him, it meant another ten grand annual; he and his wife, Merle, were expecting, and the extra money was a godsend-Merle's words-at a time when the need would be there.

The upshot of Brody being on days and me being on nights was that he talked to Marylou more often than I did during the day, and in fact saw her damn near every day, which made me jealous as hell. Still…

Even with good 'ole Brad still around and panting after her, I no longer thought that I had anything to worry about. That was a mistake. With a wife like mine there is always the threat of infidelity; the pressure on her to spread her legs would always be enormous. It was this reality that would come back to bite me in my wishful thinking ass.

One night late in May Marylou came home looking down and depressed. I asked her about it, but she just said she'd had a tough day. I let it pass, but whatever it was that was affecting her seemed to me to be more than just a long day at the office. Several days later we were sitting out on the back porch watching the sun go down. We nursed our drinks.

"Charlie, I have to go down to San Diego for a few days. A big deal, a potential client is insisting on personalized service. There's a million dollar annual retainer for the firm on the line. I'm liaison for the account," she said.

I looked at her. She knew what I was thinking.

"I was the one who sought the account out and got them to commit-almost. Anyway, I have to go down there and finalize things. Would that be okay? I mean this once to go out of town without you?"

Even I was impressed. "A million bucks! What kind of client pays a million bucks as a retainer for goodness sakes?" I said. I thought about maybe going down with her. But, then I thought about the kinds of people she would be dealing with and the stress and all and didn't want to go.

"A labor union, The Retail Clerks Union," she said.

"Oh. Well, how long is a few days?" I asked. I wasn't feeling good about her going out of town, but I sensed that this was really important to her. I decided not to make an issue of it sick stomach or not.

"I'll be leaving Thursday. I will be flying back Sunday night. Don't bother picking me up though; I'll just get a cab back here," she said.

"Okay, but I don't mind picking you up if you change your mind," I said.

"Thanks, hon, I love you," she said.

"I love you too," I said, my stomach was churning as we touched glasses across the space between our chaise lounge chairs.

"Charlie-"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for not holding me to my promise not to go out of town without you. If you had said no, I wouldn't have gone. It would have been bad for me on the job-probably-but I would not have gone," she said.

"I know," I said. "That's why I didn't object. Just take care."

"I will. And, please try not to worry, okay?"

"Okay." I said.

San Diego was five hundred miles away. I had a shitload of vacation time. I was torn. I'd half made up mind to follow her down. It said something that I still wasn't sure enough about her to trust her on a trip out of town.

"Where you gonna be staying?" I said.

She looked me askance. "The Royal," she said. "It's downtown. The union has its offices nearby."

I nodded.

Thursday morning I went to see Cass. "Mr. Walters?"

"Yes," he said, turning towards me. "Oh, Charlie, how yuh doin' young man," he said.

"Good, Mr. Walters. But, I would like to take some time off if you could spare me for a few days," I said.

"Oh, when?" he said.

Well, actually I'd like to take off today. If it's all right. I'd be back Monday though ready to work," I said.

"Kinda short notice, Charlie. Something wrong?" said Cass.

"No, no just something I have to do. It's pretty important," I said.

We talked for some minutes, and in the end I got the time off.

I decided to take the train down. It was cheaper, and it was something that appealed to me. And besides, I wasn't in a hurry. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to go. No, I was sure. I was sure I didn't. But, I was equally sure that I had to if only for my peace of mind.

I got into town at almost 6:00PM. I caught a cab to the Royal. I was cautious entering; Marylou could be anywhere.

I had taken the precaution of wearing a suit and tie and dark glasses, not my usual raiment. It was still light out, so I could justify the glasses. I definitely did not look like me, at least not to me I didn't. I entered the lobby and looked around. No Marylou.

I went up to the desk and asked for Mrs. Flowers' room.

"Hmm, sir, we don't give out that information," the clerk said.

"It's okay, I said. "I'm Mr. Flowers." I hoisted my ID in front of him and he relented.

"That'd be room 612, sir. Shall I announce you?"

"No, I want to surprise her," I said. I realized that I hadn't a clue as to what I wanted to do.

I was just interested in seeing if she was playing it straight or not. I thought about getting a room, but I had already told him it was my wife in 612, so why would I need a room.

I began to walk toward the bank of elevators I'd seen on the way in. I was about half way to my goal when I saw her. My blood ran cold. She was in the arms of some big guy and she was kissing him-hard! They had just gotten off the elevator. I ducked back behind a column. I prayed she hadn't seen me. I peeked around the other side and saw them heading for the entrance. I decided to follow them. The marriage was over, but I wanted to get it all. My cell was a camera, and I knew how to use it.

Outside, they walked like lovers, arm-in-arm down the street. I wondered where they were headed. Maybe a restaurant I surmised.

They turned the corner. I hurried to catch up. I almost gave myself away. I was only ten feet away from them, when I rounded the corner. They had stopped to kiss yet again. The motherfucker had his hands all over her ass.

Just as I was sure I was about to be spotted they turned to cross the street. They were oblivious to all around them. The dark van came at them at what had to have been sixty miles an hour. I had no choice. I ran full tilt tackling them and shoving them out of the way just before they would have been hit.

I heard a scream and what sounded like someone yelling my name; then, all was black.

******

The light was very bright, I thought. I wondered why I hadn't turned it off when I went to bed.

But, then…

"Doctor, doctor!" I heard someone yell.

It could not have been more than a minute and I was surrounded by a corps of white clad and very interested men and women.

One, who seemed an authority figure, shined a small light into my eyes one at a time, like I needed another light shining in my eyes. "You hear me Mr. Flowers?" said the man with the light.

"Yes-I think so-yes-I do," said.

"Mr. Flowers, you had us worried. That car hit you pretty good. But, I think that you are out of the woods now. Your wife is here, Mr. Flowers. I'll let her in, but only for a few minutes. You're still pretty weak from the operation."

My brow wrinkled. "Huh?" I said.

The doctor looked serious. "We had to take your leg Mr. Flowers, it was just too messed up to save. I'm sorry."

The news stunned me. I vomited.

"Nurse!"

Two nurses came in and tended to my nausea. A minute later, still nauseous, I saw her. She came in and held my hand.

"Charlie. What? Why? Charlie, I will never be able to forgive myself."

"Do you love him, Marylou?" I said. My conscious memory had returned. The image of them embracing and kissing and being lovey-dovey tortured my heart.

"Charlie, I…"

"I guess that's all the answer I need. Please leave me, Marylou. Please, before I embarrass myself. Please!"

I could see she was crying. But the last thing I needed was an unfaithful wife hanging around feeling guilty and sorry for me. My dancing days might be over, but I still had my pride, and I wasn't going to give it up to her and her lover. Hell, I'd already given up my leg; that was enough.

She backed out, turned, and left. I had never been so low in my life. I likely would never be this low again.

******

I didn't see Marylou the next day or the next or the next. I had left instructions that she was not to be allowed near me. When flowers arrived, I almost threw them out, but then I decided to read the card first. They weren't from her. They were from the boys at the Hobbs. I smiled at that. At least I still had my friends-my real friends.

It was a month later that I was released, and Brody and Kilpatrick were there to meet me.

With the help of my new fiberglass and aluminum leg, I was able to return to work after some six months and a heckuva lot of physical therapy. I was slower, but I could still get it done.

I was concerned that I would be bumping into her when I started back, but what the hell; it was my place of work too. I needn't have worried. She had evidently had the same thoughts. She had transferred to San Diego. I still missed her, but what could I do; she loved someone else. I guessed I was old news as far as she was concerned.

******

About three months after returning to work, I filed for divorce. Six months after that it was final. I did not go in for the final chapter. I had my lawyer do it for me. I heard she was there with her new fiancé. Well, life goes on, right?

I settled into my old routine. Things weren't too bad, except late at night. She was always on my mind then, damn her for it too.

Life did indeed go on.

******

Several years passed since the blow up in my life. My fortieth birthday was a day to celebrate for sure. My salary had almost doubled a couple of weeks before when I inherited Cass' old job. I was the boss now. He'd been almost seventy. The party for him had been a pretty good affair. Even old Brad Carlson was there for that one. He pulled me aside for a minute. He'd changed. "Charlie, you got a minute?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Whatcha got, Brad. I was wary, but not worried, if that makes any sense.

"You know we haven't spoken in years. I've seen you every now and then, but we've not spoken since forever."

"And, so-" I said.

"Well, I just want you to know I envy you and admire you," he said. "Hokey, okay, but it's the truth."

I looked around to see if anyone was snickering behind my back. They weren't. "Okay, I'll bite, Brad, what gives?"

"Nothing. It's just what I said. I'd be glad to call a man like you a friend," he said.

"Okay," I said. I was still suspicious, but I was getting the feeling that he was not pulling a fast one. He offered me his hand, and we shook.

"You know, you saved their lives that day: the both of them. I heard all about it," he said.

"Yeah, well that's old news," I said.

"Well, maybe, but the two of them never could live it down," said Brad. "I hear that she wanted to come and see you, try to get back with you, but the guy; well…"

"No biggee, it wouldn't have made any difference. I saw them. It was clear to me that I was old news," I said.

"Anyway, the way I heard it, every time they looked at each other they realized it was only because of your sacrifice that they were able to look at anything but dirt covering their faces.

"They got married though, finally. But, I guess Marylou's heart wasn't in it. They divorced within a year," said Brad.

"How do you know all of this?" I asked.

He looked at me like I was a dummy. "I see her from time to time. We work for the same firm, just different branches. We talk a little. She doesn't date a lot, not like she used to. You know, there was the divorce from you. Then, there was the divorce from that other guy. She's come to be a little bit skittish, I guess. She hasn't turned into a nun exactly, but she's definitely more-how shall I say it-more conservative given all that happened and how she used to be and do and all.

"All that may be true, Brad. Hell, I'll even grant that it makes sense on some level, but what really makes me wonder the most is you, not her. I'm surprised you haven't picked up with her. I know you had the hots for her in the old days," I said.

He snickered. "Yeah, I guess. I had an epiphany of sorts."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you really don't know much about me. I lost my dad when I was young. It was just my mom and me. He, my dad, died in 'Nam; he was a tunnel rat. One day he-well-he didn't come out of the tunnel. My mom couldn't, at least didn't, talk about him much. She just said he'd been a hero; and I should always remember him that way. And I did. Until last year."

"Oh?" I said.

"My mom was dying; it was cancer. One day she called me in to the kitchen while I was visiting. The cancer was under control at the time; you know, with all the meds. She made me sit down. She poured me some coffee, and handed me a letter. And a small box."

I leaned back against the wall and waited to hear him out.

"I opened the box first; it was his posthumously awarded silver star. There was a letter from the Secretary of the Army with the details. That was a pretty tough moment for me. But it was only the beginning, as I soon found out.

"My mom waited for me to open the letter. I did. It took me a while to read it. It was a dear Jane letter written the week before my dad was killed. He had written mom saying that he was leaving her for a Vietnamese girl and that she, my mom, should start divorce proceedings. He said he wasn't going to be coming home. Oh, and he had a paragraph in there for me. He told me to always be honest and to work hard and love my mother. There was more, but you get the idea.

"My mom told me that dad was always chasing the skirts; he was very handsome she told me. This Viet girl was just the last in a long string of them. I realized then that I had become what I guess my dad always was, a philanderer. Anyway, that made me take stock of my life and the things I did and the way I thought. So, now, I am what I am-different."

I nodded. "Sorry, something like that could change a person for sure."

"It did me. Anyway, I'm not the asshole I once was," he laughed.

"Well, there might be two schools of thought on that one," I said, and we both laughed.

"Yeah, maybe. You ever think of trying to see her again, talk to her? I mean Marylou?" he said.

"Naw, not really. I mean I miss her, guess I always will. I think about her lot especially at night. But, she didn't love me. The thing about it was that I knew it would never work. She was way out of my class, and I fucking knew it. I guess I just fell under her spell. I believed her when she said she could love me and only me. I guess I wanted to believe it. Well, she burned me in the end didn't she," I said.

"I suppose. Well, in case you change your mind. You know-you should maybe give her a chance to talk to you," he said.

"She wouldn't talk to me, not really. She might think she had to because of-well you know. But, I don't need sympathy or gratitude. I needed her love. I thought I'd had it, but, well, life is full of nasty surprises," I said.

"I'd talk to you, Charlie, and not out of pity or gratitude, but out of love."

I spun around. I looked back at Brad.

"Sorry, Charlie, I thought you needed to hear the truth," he said. "It ain't pretty, but it's not as unpretty as you thought it was either. Hear her out."

I turned back to the woman. "Hello, Marylou. You look-well."

"You look good too, Charlie. I know it sounds weird, but Brad is responsible for me being here. He seems to think we should talk. Or, more accurately that I should talk to you, tell you the whole of it." She turned and started walking. It was clear to me that she was heading for the elevators, and she wanted me to follow her. I guessed it would be going down and to the cafeteria.

******

"I'm sorry, Charlie. Let me start with that. I'm sorry for a million things. I'm sorry for betraying you; it was not planned, not really. Ronald was an old flame. When he kissed me hello, I don't know, it touched something off inside of me.

"You never knew, but before we hooked up, I was quite the girl about town. Fact was I was everyman's favorite date. Never anything serious, just a lot of sex and restaurant food. By serious I mean none of my dates were ever going to get a ring on my finger; you were the only one until our divorce to do that.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you while you were recuperating. I'm sorry, for not being home to take care of you and love you and feed you and bathe you when you were having your hardest days with your leg. And well…

"When I ran into Ronald in San Diego that day; again, it was like old times. I wasn't thinking. I guess I really was ready for a fling and he was there, and he was a known quantity, and we did it. The biggest mistake of my life. I know that now."

I listened. I couldn't think of anything to say. I loved her and hated her and admired her-the last for her candor. I nodded.

She started to cry. Geezsus these women, always crying.

"Then all of a sudden you saved me. You saved him. And you-"

"Yes, yes I know I was damaged goods," I said. "Well, I get along just fine thank you very much. I don't dance anymore, but I do okay otherwise.

"Marylou, the last fucking thing I need is sympathy, okay. Just don't do it! That I could not deal with!" My voice had been rising. It was beginning to look like the exact conversation that I always feared would happen, and I was not going to stand for it.

She nodded her understanding. "I know," she said. "You are far too much of a man to put up with any emotional female nonsense. I was just going to say, that the guilt; well, it was overwhelming.

"That day in the hospital, when you asked if I loved him, I wanted to tell you I didn't. And, I really didn't. What I did not want though was to be with you and have to feel the guilt day in and day out for the rest of our lives. That would have done neither of us any good, and I knew it. So-I misled you. Let you think I loved him. It would be easier, so I thought, for the both of us."

"But you married him," I said. "Why did you marry him?"

"I had to, sort of. That day at the hotel, he'd knocked me up. I just took the easy path. But it didn't last. We were divorced within a year."

"How about the baby?" I asked.

"I miscarried five months into the pregnancy. It hurt me real bad. I have to tell you. I almost came back and threw myself on the ground at your feet, Charlie. I needed you so bad then. Selfish of me huh."

She was sobbing now big time. Her chest was heaving and never had I seen a forty year old woman look so like a fourteen year-old who'd been stood up by her first boyfriend.

I was about to take the biggest risk a man could take. I reached out and placed my hand gently on her shoulder. I knew then that I was lost. The feel of her, quivering like that, was more than I could bear.

The power of a woman in trouble was beyond my power to resist. Add to that the fact that I had never stopped loving her; and well, dear reader, I might be the first citizen of wimp city, but that's just the way it is, so deal with it.

We were remarried within three months of that day.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Making of a Cuckold
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A husband and wife try to spice things up.
 Category:Cuckold
      URL:http://www.web.archive.org/web/20170306161717/www.literotica.com/s/the-making-of-a-cuckold-ch-01
Published:2021-08-06
Part 1

That Jana Caulfield was willing to cuckold me was something of a shock. She had always laughed at me for even thinking about doing anything like swinging, as she termed it. At first I wasn't sure if she was even taking me seriously. But, as it turned out she was indeed serious, and now I have this little predicament: she likes it and doesn't want to give up her more or less regular Saturday afternoon trysts! It was supposed to have been a one-time deal. But, now it has become the primary vehicle of my punishment.

Yes, yes, it was my idea originally, kind of a way to spice up our sex lives, as I saw it; probably not an original notion. The idea was that she'd pick up some stranger, let him bang her while I watched, and then we would have something to talk about for years to come. But, it didn't work out that way.

Now, I am made to watch, and the humiliation is often unbearable, yet I have no choice but to bear it. My wife, as it turns out has a cruel streak, and watching her and her lovers is but part of the picture.

Jana won't say, but I am sure she does it for the pleasure she gets out of it as much as a means of punishing me. Why don't I just scrambola? I love her, and, in point of fact, it is all my fault: talk about a catch-22. Every once in a while, I get the feeling that maybe she'll put an end to it all, but so far no such luck.

It's been almost a year now since the first time. And that first time was a doozy. Neither of us had ever done anything like it. We were nervous, and so was the pizza delivery guy that my wife finally did it with. I was there, oh boy was I ever there, but I was hiding in the closet.

We'd decided to go to a motel and order pizza. My wife would proposition the delivery guy, which we figured would be some young virile kid; and well, she'd get it on with him. Well, he turned out to not be a kid. It was some semi-retired guy, way over weight, and totally not gonna happen. So we paid the $15 bucks for the pizza, and ordered another one from a different place. The second guy was a kid, maybe eighteen or twenty years old tops.

My wife looked the kid up and down and decided that he would do. She let him in, paid him, and pretended to need help with her zipper. Okay it was lame, but a youngster with the usual raging hormones isn't likely to pick up on it, or care much either way regardless.

My wife was wearing a demur blouse, black, and a gray mini-skirt. Somehow the combination accentuated her dark red hair. She wore no stockings and her panties were the standard, full size white kind so in favor by Catholic school girls. If the kid shut up and did what he was told; he was going to get the chance to take them off of her. Jana rarely wore any makeup, but her perfume was the man-killing kind: she smelled great, always. He helped her with the zipper. Jana let the skirt flutter to the floor and stood there waiting for the kid to say or do something.

He just stared. He seemed fixated. Well, so was I; Jana is very pretty, in spite of her 37 years, that especially with only her panties and blouse on.

"I have to know," she said, "do you think I'm pretty?"

The kid just nodded. He was acting almost zombie-like.

"Well, that's very kind of you," she said, answering his nods. "My husband doesn't think so. He thinks I'm old, I guess."

"Ma'am, he's nuts." Said the boy so sincerely that it was all Jana could do to contain herself.

"He hasn't made love to me in months," lied Jana. I'd banged her three times the night before; I couldn't get enough of her. Nevertheless, lies or not, the kid was responding. The bulge in the front of his pants meant that he was already lost. Jana noticed it too. "You can have me if you want," she said.

The boy advanced slowly toward her. Even so he nearly tripped over the leg of a chair. He reddened. He seemed afraid that he had broken the mood by his clumsiness. "Ma'am, I never…"

"Your first time?" said Jana.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"What's your name?"

"Carlos."

"Well, Carlos, I would be honored to have you do me and be your first piece of ass," said Jana. She reached out and felt his penis through his pants. I saw her eyes widen when she realized the size of the kid's tool. "You are a big boy aren't you," she said.

The boy extended his hand toward Jana's breast and touched it. When she didn't flinch he extended both hands and began gently exploring both of them. Jana closed her eyes and let him discover her. Soon his hands were tracing their way down the sides of her arms and onto her butt. He pulled her to him and kissed her neck, then her cheek, then her lips and she let him.

"You've kissed girls before haven't you?" teased Jana.

"Uh—yes ma'am. It's just—well—I've never been—you know—naked with a girl."

"It's okay. I think it's exciting to be a boy's first," she said.

"Really? You don't think I'm a…"

"You're fine," she said, putting him at ease as well as she could.

For my part, I was in the closet seated on a stool—naked. The boy might have been fine, but I sure as hell wasn't. I was mad dog jealous! Jana had wanted me that way, so that was the way it was going to be. She had also left me strict orders not to touch myself; she wanted me to take her when the pizza guy had finally gone. I was, however, having a devil of a time trying to keep my word. I did keep it, but next time she had to let me play with myself; she just had to. Geezsus! What was I saying, next time. There wasn't supposed to be a next time. The thought of going through this again was actually making my Johnson wilt; it was scary!

She unbuckled his belt. Soon she was going to see exactly what it was he had in there. She unzipped his trousers and pulled them down around his knees. The bulge in his briefs was intimidating. She peeled them down and a ten-inch cock sprang out and brushed her face.

She'd fallen to her knees to pull his briefs down. His cock was at her eye level. She stared. The purplish glans looked like an enormous mushroom; it even impressed me. Jana kissed it, then licked it; the boy Carlos jerked spasmodically at the unfamiliar intimacy. I didn't blame him; I was rock hard just watching them. Jana stole a glance in my direction, a gleeful smile briefly framed her lips. Her hands encircled his rod and stroked it up and down once or twice. She leaned forward, taking the tip into her mouth; she began to suck it, slowly, methodically. Carlos, for my money, was the luckiest cat in town right at that moment; that in contrast to the "jealousiest" cat in town—me!

The boy grabbed the back of her head: a brute male controlling his she. When he came in her mouth, he shuddered like he had been electrocuted. White foamy stuff dribbled from the side of my wife's mouth and her lover collapsed backwards onto the bed. Jana stood and began stripping her remaining clothes off. Her back was to me now, and when she pushed her panties floorward; I had a perfect view of the prettiest butt in the whole wide world! She glanced over her shoulder at me and mouthed a teasing kiss in my direction; I almost fainted from the eroticism of it.

She crawled up onto the bed next to the boy-man who would conquer her. He wrapped his arms around her diminutive form and whispered something to her that I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear it, but I could well believe that he was telling her what an idiot her husband was for not treating her a whole lot better than he had. I was sick with jealousy by now. I was close to bursting from the confines of my self-imposed prison and booting the youngster's butt outta there and taking over where he had left off. But, gritting my teeth, biting my tongue, and hating myself more than words could express; I didn't. I stayed right where I was and waited impatiently for the second act. I didn't have to wait long.

"You are wonderful," said the boy. "I never… " He began to cry. I wasn't sure if it was out of gratitude for my wife giving herself to him or relief that he was finally going to be able to do a girl. It was probably a mix of the two; in fact, I'm sure it was.

Jana comforted him, kissing his lips like the understanding woman she was. "Touch me," she said. "Touch me all over."

He started to feel her up. Her breasts, her buttocks, her belly, and finally her mound. Jana had a completely bald mound; it was exquisite. Carlos shimmied down her body and kissed her slit. She oohed and aahed and twitched as his tongue penetrated her most secret places. His right hand insinuated itself under her butt, and I could tell his finger was probing her anus. She raised up for him to be able to better push it inside of her, then she settled back down impaling herself in the process. I knew his finger was in her from her initial grimace that bespoke the slight pain of the unfamiliar object violating her bowels.

"Take me now, Carlos, I need a good screwing and I need it now!" My wife was desperate. Carlos was hard again and his cock was clearly in control of him. He rolled on top of my wife and she spread her legs wide for him. He poked inexpertly at her vagina and looked frustrated when he couldn't gain a lodgment; he really was a virgin. Jana took hold of his penis and guided it to the right place. It was all of the help he needed. He began pushing slowly but inexorably into her. Her subdued cries were hardly noticed by her assailant.

Carlos grunted and mooed more than Jana had the first time I had taken her seventeen years before. Well, a virgin is still a virgin regardless of their sexual equipment I guess.

It was perhaps five or six minutes before the lanky delivery boy emptied his spunk into her. She felt the heat from his cum washing her insides, and she glowed with completion; she'd had a small orgasm, and she thrilled to it. Her gaze once again wandered in my direction. I wondered what would be in store for me after the delivery boy left. Well, I found out about twenty minutes later.

Carlos had come twice, once in her mouth and once in her pussy; he was one contented fella. He fawned over my wife's kindness to an almost comical degree; then, he had finally dressed and left. A short two minutes after he had gone, Jana came to me in my closet prison and led me out and over to the bed.

"You have a job, James."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I want you to eat me out. Clean me with your tongue, and I mean I want you to do a good job." She was almost laughing at me.

"But, his…"

"Yes, his cum is inside of me and you're going to eat that too. What's the matter? You didn't mind watching your wife get a banging from a stranger. But you are timid about doing something for her?"

"Well, it's just that…"

"There's no 'it's just'," she said. "You're doing what I say in this or else. Am I clear? I'm going to be getting a few things that 'I' want. It is not going to be all your wants and needs."

I nodded in submission. "I suppose you have a point," I said. "You were wonderful today. I couldn't deny you anything."

She smiled. "Good. So get on your knees between my legs and do your duty. I'm going to love this," she said, now not even trying to check her laughter.

"I began tentatively licking her slit. It didn't taste too bad: kinda sweet and sour. Soon she was bucking like a rodeo star. After her orgasm subsided, I wrapped my arms tightly around her and rammed home my own six inch rod and fucked her raw for half an hour. She came again, and the timing was perfect; I exploded inside her at the same instant. We both lay still for some moments.

"Well, you have another job now, James, so get to it."

"Huh?"

"Get your face down there James and clean me like before, and be quick about it."

She was being so harsh. "Honey are you mad at me or something?" I was almost afraid to hear her response. "Mad? No. But James, things are different now. You're just a wimpy little cuckold now. And, you are going to play the part. The part of a pussywhipped little cuckold baby doll. Are we clear?"

"But, I don't understand. I…"

"James, you let a delivery boy fuck your wife, and you got off on it. That makes you a stinking little cuckold. You do not deserve to be treated with respect." She was so cold toward me.

"Honey, Jana, are we breaking…?"

"Breaking up? Oh no, don't think that. There is still a place for you at our table. We'll still be married, but from now on you will be what you really are. What you proved you are today. You're a cuckold, James. You fantasize about other men screwing me; so from now on, you will do what I say, and you will have no rights whatsoever that I do not approve of. Am I clear? There's a new sheriff at our house and I'm it."

I was speechless and almost in a state of shock. "Honey, I—I'm sorry. I thought that…"

"You thought I wanted this. Well, I didn't. You bugged me about it so often over the years that I got tired of hearing it, and I had to see if you would actually let it happen: let another man have me, fuck me. Well, you did, so now it is time for you to pay the piper. You can leave of course, but if you do, don't ever even think about coming back. But, if you take your medicine like you ought to, maybe someday I will be able to respect you again—maybe."

So there it was. I had really blown it. She was right; my fantasies had gotten me into the predicament I was in, and it was about to get worse. She fully intended to punish me, severely punish me, and I had no real choice in the matter. I love her. There is no one else like her. My fate is to do my level best to win her back, and the truth is that I am not sure that I can, but, I have to try. ** Since the third or fourth week, I had slept on the couch in the den. The only sexual release I was getting from Jana now involved the "obligation" to clean her with my tongue after each of her Saturday afternoon delights had finished with her; that had been the last dozen Saturdays in a row except for two: those had been days when we had made the trek to her sister Claire's house upstate.

My wife's pussy had become strictly off limits to my cock. In point of fact, my penis had not invaded her vagina even once in many weeks; that particular truth was viscerally frustrating! Since then, I had been masturbating regularly just to keep my sanity, but then, disaster of disasters, Jana had caught me doing it, and there was going to be hell to pay. I was sure this was so in part because Jana had been on the phone about the incident with her sister, Claire.

Jana had arranged for her next cuckolding adventure with the help of a friend at the salon where she regularly gets her hair done. She had confided in her friend in recent weeks, telling him all about us. Evidently, he thought it was a hoot. Said he knew just the right guy to fill the bill. Once I'd met him, even I was impressed with the choice.

Mr. Jones, clearly not his real name, was in town for some convention. He often came to our city, and each and every time had his hair coifed at the salon. He was tallish, maybe six-two. He was athletically built and soft-spoken; and, he was black. He would be number eleven on the cuckolders' parade of studs. When Jana told me about him; she had the biggest grin on her kittenish face that I had ever seen. They were to do it the next day. My job would be to serve them in any way they required, as usual. I could not have guessed at that point exactly what it was that they were going to require.

"James, Mr. Jones will be coming here tonight. You need to get clean and get ready for your duties. In fact I'm going to help you," she said.

"Okay," I said. "What time? Uh—and what do you mean you're going to help me, to get ready?"

"About 7:00. He is very interested in meeting you. He's never had another man's wife where the husband actually wanted to watch him do her. As to your other question, James, he's bisexual. He may want to do you too. So, I want to help you get ready, just in case." The smirk on her face was full of fun—at my expense.

"I don't know about that, Jana. I mean it's not me. I'm not into that stuff."

"You've been eating other men's cum right along haven't you? Of course you can do it. You'll like it, and so will I. But, that's only if he decides you're pretty enough to screw. I'm gonna make it my business to help you be pretty enough. Anyway, that's why I'm going to be helping you." She laughed outright at her own words.

"I—but… " I stammered.

"You know, I never told you, but my sister Claire makes Sam do it on occasion, not often, but on occasion. After you've done it, maybe you and Sam could compare notes."

Her laughter at her own remarks was almost hysterical now. I wasn't as amused as she was, but my dick was rock hard. I was beginning to think of "mister happy" as my betrayer!

I just nodded my submission. There was no use arguing with her. She knew I could deny her nothing. But, hard cock or not, I was nevertheless more than a little concerned by the idea that some guy was going to fuck not only my wife, but me as well. I wasn't gay; that was a fact. But, the idea of Jana being there did excite me.

"Good, then we'll be getting you ready soon. I have to get some things together first," she said.

Jana had me; what she wanted she was going to get. I had wanted her to cuckold me. It had been my primary fantasy for a very long time. Now that that fantasy had been consummated and reconsummated a number of times, I was faced with the concern that all cuckolds can relate to: was it going to be a threat to our marriage, and if so on what level. Would she actually leave me? I doubted that, but an almost equally worrisome threat was would she desire "me" less even if she didn't leave me! Jana knew that I would do anything to keep her, and with that reality in the back her mind how far would she go. Today's "adventure" with Mr. Jones would go a long way toward answering that question.

The supreme irony was that, though I was near shaking in my boots with worry over my status with Jana, especially about tonight's games, my hormonal need for abject humiliation was driving me deeper into the whole scene. The continuous visualization of my wife sucking the dick of a stranger was part of it. Seeing her legs spread wide while some stud with a big cock banged her was also part of it. And now, as I waited for her to call me to get ready for Mr. Jones, I dared not touch myself because I knew my semen would paint half a wall in the room were I to so dare. Fortunately, or unfortunately, my wait was short; I heard her steps coming in from the other room.

"James, it's time. Strip naked, my husband, and join me in the bathroom now."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I went out to the service porch and shucked my clothes into the hamper.

The master bathroom was mildly steamy when I entered.

"Good," she said. She pointed to the bathtub which was already full and sported a froth of bubble bath suds that smelled—like—like—lavender soap. "Get in."

I did and she approached me carrying a luffa and a bar of soap. She lathered my hair and face and proceeded down the rest of my body. When she reached by cock and balls, it was one of the most exquisite feelings I'd had in a long time. I was immersed in the water, but, had I not been, my cock would have been leaking like a rusted out faucet.

"Geezsus, honey, I'm gonna cum if you keep that up," I said.

"You do and you won't get your reward," she said.

Nevertheless, she stopped massaging my balls and worked on my legs, an operation only slightly less erotic than her previous ministrations.

Rising she went over the cabinet and retrieved a razor.

"Put your legs up high," she said. "I'm going to shave off all of your body hair south of your eyebrows. And she did. The high point of the bath came next. "Get on your hands and knees," she said.

"Huh?"

"Turn around and get on your hands and knees. And, don't argue with me. I'm doing this because you're a man, and can therefore absolutely not be trusted to do it right. When Mr. Jones takes you tonight, if he does, you need to be as girl-like as you possibly can be.

She began scrubbing the crack in my ass with gusto. I mean she scrubbed it hard. I was sure when she was through that my sphincter would be as pink as it was on the first day of my life.

After the bath she made me model in the mirror. My medium length hair presented her with her first problem.

"I had wanted to put your hair up in a ponytail, but it's too short," she said, as she dried it with the blower. But, I think that I can curl it." Twenty minutes later, I had a dozen curlers in my hair and she had treated it to make sure it would react correctly when she took them out.

Next came the clothes. The training bra was first. "I decided to let you wear a training bra," she said. "No, stuffed brassier for you. If Mr. Jones wants to get at your nipples, he can do it without having to pull socks out of your bra."

I said the minimum during operation fem-makeover. Never uttered a word as she laid out the panties and dress and low heels she was requiring me to wear. But then, my eyes bulged out at the next thing she dug out of the drawer. "What's that," I said knowing full well what it was.

"I told you, don't argue with me. It's a cock cage. And it's going on you. It'll guarantee that you won't be playing with yourself tonight, and that you will remain horny the whole time."

'But, honey, that's not fair. I mean…"

"Fair? Fair has nothing to do with it. I want it and you will wear it."

"But it's too small!" I protested.

That stopped her. "You may be right. Let me see." She became pensive for the moment as she pondered the solution. "Yes, you're right. But, I have a solution."

"What solution?"

"Well, I don't want you to cum; that mustn't happen. But, I have to get your cock down to a manageable size, so I can lock you up."

I looked puzzled. I knew damn well that she couldn't get my cock to shrink no matter what she did. Boy how wrong I was!

"I'm going to spank you. You're little friend will shrink then, I assure you," she said.

I paled. She smiled, and went back to the bathroom to get what she needed. It was a hairbrush.

"Get that chair and bring it here into the middle," she said.

I was frozen in my tracks.

"Now!"

I moved as in a trance. But, I got the chair and waited for what must come.

She sat down and tapped her thigh lightly with the hairbrush. It was the signal for me to drape myself across her legs and to wait for my punishment. A raised eyebrow was the impetus I needed to force my obedience.

She swung her right leg over the backs of mine effectively pinning me down for the spanking. With her left hand she pulled my right arm high up and held it there pressed against my spine. I was now completely helpless to defend myself from her punishing me.

The spanking took five of the longest minutes I have ever spent. My butt was on fire, but I hadn't cried or yelled over much. She made me stand.

Grasping my balls, hard, she pulled me to her and threaded my now limp penis into the tube. A nylon strap on the bottom of the tube encircled my scrotum and the device was secured in place with a tiny padlock. I was helpless and a little afraid.

"I got it at a novelty shop a couple of days ago when I shopped for the clothes you're going to be wearing tonight," she explained.

I'd wondered about all of that.

"Hope the spanking wasn't too bad, but it did serve the purpose.

"Now for the rest of your clothes," she said.

The crotchless panties were dark, like the bra, and the cock cage imitated a female mound when covered by them. The man who would do me would never have to see evidence of my maleness.

Jana helped me with my dress, a midi-print right out of the fifties. After that, she touched up my makeup and stood back to admire her handiwork. "Good, you'll do fine," was her only comment.

It was but thirty minutes later that the buzzer announced the arrival of Mr. Jones.

I mentioned earlier on that Mr. Jones was an impressive gentleman for sure. Over six foot tall, chiseled features, muscular, yet slim: Every woman's dreamboat. It occurred to me to wonder about the stories I'd heard about a black man's cock. The one thing I really did hope for was that it would not be too thick; I really didn't want to be split open.

"Hello," said the man.

I had been schooled by Jana as to how to behave when her gentlemen friends arrived. I stood back, hands at my side and waited for instructions. Mr. Jones came in wrapped his arms around my wife and kissed her. The kiss pleased her, and strangely, it pleased me!

"This is my—my friend Sissy," she said. It had not occurred to her to give me a female name until that moment. I could see from her look that she had come up with it on the spot. Well, I could hardly deny its accuracy.

"Sissy, could you get us something to drink," said Jana.

I nodded and headed off to get the non-alcoholic champagne that Jana had come to favor in recent months although she still did occasionally take a glass of wine. She never had been much of a drinker, and disliked drunks intensely. For my part, I liked my vodka neat, but never more than two or three at a sitting. Jana was tolerant of me within those limits.

When I returned, she was cuddling with Mr. Jones on the couch. I served the drinks. I dimmed the lights somewhat and took a seat across from them. I could see everything, but because of the dimness of the lights, I was more or less lost in the shadows where I sat next to the bookcase twenty feet away.

Mr. Jones was kissing her with studied gentleness. He was definitely a lover, not just a cuckolding wife fucker, I thought.

His hands began to caress her. Soon his right hand cupped her breast and she mooed in submission to her man. I watched as he slipped a hand inside of her blouse. I felt a chill run through me knowing how I felt whenever I held her tits in my hands, as seldom as that had been in recent times. I was wearing the same perfume that Jana wore; it was almost as if she were next to me, and I were the one feeling her up.

Then came that moment that both thrills and humiliates me every time I witness it. It may seem strange, but watching a man pump his penis in and out of your wife's pussy is not the hottest moment a cuckold experiences. No, it's before that, when, as a cuckold, you are forced to watch as the man doing your wife first lets his hand slip beneath her skirt and up her inner thigh seeking the warmth he will find there. When he finds it, the woman invariable shivers, as if surprised that the male beside her is exploring her secret places so daringly.

I sat stock still as I watched Mr. Jones' hand sneaking up and under my wife's skirt. Ever so slowly he went, as if knowing that he was driving me crazy, but saying nothing to me, nor looking in my direction.

Jana, however, did look over at me and winked a pale, lust induced trace of a smile at me. It was as if to say "This is good; I need this." Then she turned back and I saw her place her hand on the front of his pants.

My cock strained in its imprisonment. It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable.

Mr. Jones let out an audible sigh as Jana ever so gently massaged his cock through the material of his pants. He began unsteadily unbuttoning her blouse and pushing it off of her shoulders and down her arms. He leaned in and kissed the exposed flesh of her upper breasts. His hand expertly sought the hooks on the back of her bra and loosed them. Her breasts popped free and then, like any man in that situation, he began suckling at them as though some strange force he could not resist impelled him to do it.

Even as his mouth moved from one breast to the other hardening and extending my wife's nipples, a free hand was unbuttoning and unzipping her skirt. He leaned out and away from her and knelt on the floor in front of her. He pulled at her skirt, and she raised up to help him strip her. Her panties were next, and Jana's amazing, dark red, and abundant bush was now open to him.

Jana was leaning back now waiting for her man to have his way with her. For a moment Mr. Jones just stared at her mound and all that it offered him. Then, his hand crept forward and felt her there; she shuddered as his finger penetrated inside of her. I could see her swallow hard.

Jana was naked, but Mr. Jones was still fully clothed. He stood. He began disrobing. Soon his underpants were all that remained. The bulge inside of them was large, not huge, but large. He pushed them down his legs and exposed what was likely a seven-inch cock of moderate girth. Jana was pleased with it; she reached out and felt it with a finger tip, teasing it and making it jerk and bounce spasmodically. I wondered what was going on in her mind. Did she even remember I was there? I think that at that moment that there were only two people in that room, as far as Jana was concerned, and I wasn't one of them. The feelings I got from such thoughts were disturbing to me.

I sat as Jana had told me to sit, legs together, demurely, hands on the arm of the chair, and tried not to be noticed, not yet. As I sat and stared at my wife and her lover, Mr. Jones finally seemed to notice me. A glance in my direction told me that it would be my turn for his affections soon enough.

For whatever reason, Mr. Jones offered Jana a hand and brought her to a standing position in front of him. He turned her so that she faced me. He whispered something in her ear and she spread her legs about twelve-inches apart. With a gentle nudge Jana was coaxed into bending over presenting her butt and pussy to Mr. Jones for him to do his will.

He knelt behind her and began licking her anus and her pussy. At that moment, I wanted nothing so much as to "be" Mr. Jones.

Jana's hands were on her knees, but her eyes were focused on my eyes. She must have seen something there because what I can only describe as a look of pity spread over her features. Returning her gaze, I silently admitted to being a thing to be pitied and her absolute toy.

Mr. Jones was much taller than Jana. He had to bend his knees considerably as he poked at her from the rear. Jana let out an audible cry of pain as he speared her driving home his cock and impaling her on it.

With one hand he grasped a fist full of her hair, while the other half encircled her neck forcing her to remain bent at the waist to take her screwing. The man pumped furiously in and out of her. I could see dribble seeping from the mouth of my wife as she seemed to sob while suffering his punishing cock.

Mr. Jones suddenly stiffened and there was no doubt he was erupting inside of my wife and washing the walls of her pussy with his semen. He leaned forward and wrapped his huge arms around her. He squeezed her breasts and I could tell his cock was pulsating and draining the last of his sediment into her. He pulled out of her. Jana dropped to her knees; I could see her face better now, her cheeks were tear stained. Mr. Jones, for his part, lay on the floor in the throes of post-orgasmic rapture. Jana crawled over to the couch and crooked a finger at me. I came to her and knelt in front of her; I knew what she wanted. I leaned in and began lapping at her slit. It took no more than a minute or two before she shuddered violently in orgasm.

Having done my duty, she pushed me back and pointed to Mr. Jones. I turned toward him and he also crooked a finger in my direction, the meaning of which was all too clear. I moved, on my hands and knees, the four or five feet between us and took hold of his semi-hard cock. With my other hand I cupped his balls. This was a new experience, but I licked him clean, and as I did his cock hardened progressively to its full glory. He pushed me back, chuckling to himself.

By that time, Jana had gotten herself together and had come to us. She stood over me, smiling, or maybe it was smirking; I couldn't tell which. She crooked her finger at me again and pointed to the couch. I looked at her quizzically.

"Kneel on it, Sissy dear. And, push your buns back so Mr. Jones can get a good go at you."

I know I must've paled. The time had come. I wasn't ready for this, not in the least. But, I had internalized nothing in the weeks leading up to this moment were it not the habit of obedience. I stood, straightened my dress, and took the few unsteady steps required to get me to the place of my screwing. Jana was beautiful in her nakedness standing by the couch waiting for me to assume my position. I took it and looked back at her. She was smiling encouragement to me, at least I think it was encouragement, anymore I couldn't be sure.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the big man stirring on the floor. He rose, came to me, and lightly stroked my buttocks. His hands felt remarkably cool on my panty-covered butt. Jana handed him something in a jar. He dipped his fingers into the substance and began to massage it into my ass. He pushed the stuff in deep. I didn't see it happen, but I learned later that Jana had worked a quantity of the greasy stuff onto his penis lubricating it as well. I heard her explain that I was a virgin and needed some extra care. The man beside her grunted something in response, and Jana stepped around to the rear of the couch; she was now facing me yet again.

The man's hands felt unusually assertive, strong, when he gripped my hips. I felt the tip of his dick pushing relatively gently at my anus. It popped in.

"Feel good, Sissy? It does, doesn't it," he said.

He began screwing me slowly. At first he pushed in only a little way. It felt okay, kinda good actually. But, soon I felt him push in deeper; it hurt a little now, but there was nothing I could do but surrender and take what it was he was doing to me. Although my cock was caged and completely incapable of getting hard in its state of imprisonment, I felt like I might actually reach an orgasm, but just as I was getting to the point of a mounting climax; my man shuddered and unloaded his semen into me in a shattering climax of his own. ** I felt his dick soften somewhat and begin to slide out of me. I felt a moderate burning sensation, as though I had been stretched a bit too far. I was a virgin no more if in fact that's what I had been. I could feel his cum seeping out of my anal orifice. "So this is what a woman felt like after being taken," I thought to myself.

Jana caressed my face as though commiserating with a girlfriend who'd just endured what all girls must endure: the loss of her virginity.

After Mr. Jones had said his goodbyes, dressed, and gone; I was left alone with my thoughts while Jana went upstairs to shower and clean herself up. I undressed, and waited for her to come back down, so we could talk. I knew something was up from the look she gave me as she ascended the stairs.

At the least, my hope was that my wife would let me out of my cock cage. She and Mr. Jones had gotten off, that left only me, and I was desperate. I had not, and could not have known what it was that was up; but the shock that was awaiting me would be pretty stunning even considering all that had so far happened.

Jana descended the stairs wrapped in a towel. "Your turn," she said; and she pointed toward the upstairs bathroom. "Get clean, I mean really clean. Call me if you need help, and I'll help you get any makeup off that you don't get off yourself."

I needed another kind of help right at that moment. "Honey, can I get out of my cock cage now? I mean I do have to wash my thing too, don't I?" I begged.

She raised her eyebrows in thought. "Hmm, yes, I think so," she said. She went for her purse, took out the key and unlocked the padlock that had held me prisoner. I slipped the sheath off of my sorry excuse of a penis and immediately felt it expand in its freedom. I stroked it a couple of times to get the feeling and flexibility back into it. "Now get up there and get clean," she commanded.

"Yes, ma'am." And, I obeyed.

Half an hour later I was back down stairs. Clad only in my boxer shorts, I was ready for the post mortem of the night's activity.

"How was it?" I dared ask.

"Truthfully? Not that great," she said. "Mr. Jones was not especially considerate, and I didn't come until you ate me out."

I was stunned. What was it I was hearing in her voice? "Huh?" was all I could manage.

"You did a pretty good job of getting it all off," she said, referring to my makeup.

"Thanks, but…"

"We're not going to be looking for any more males out there anymore," she said. "I have some other ideas."

"Yes?"

"While you were up showering I called my sister."

"Claire?"

"Yes, silly, she's the only sister I've got."

"Yes, of course, but I mean what? Why?"

"She has a better way of doing—what we're doing," said Jana. "We're going over there next weekend."

"Okay?"

"I think you'll like it better, and we will still be able to do some fun stuff."

"What kind of stuff," I asked.

"You'll see. You'll see next weekend."

And with that we went to bed. For the first time in weeks my body was allowed back into our bed, and my penis back into my wife's vagina. It was the best piece of ass I'd had in years! And when she sucked my cock, I silently pledged to be her slave for as long as I lived. My only concern was trying to figure out what it was that Jana had in store for us one week hence. And, what did her sister Claire have to do with it; that part bothered me. Claire was a wild one, and knew absolutely no limits.

Part 2

The Caulfields were loaded up and ready to go by mid-afternoon. They pulled out into the roadway and began the leisurely drive northward. The mood in the car was charged.

The drive to Claire and Ben's took over two hours. The sun was going down when they finally got there. Jana was closed mouthed most of the way, but as they neared their destination she opened up.

James, my sister works for the phone company, as you know. What you don't know is that some of her coworkers, linemen, have fun with her and Ben from time to time. Well, actually a lot of the time. They're gonna have fun with me too, and, maybe you. Is that clear enough for you?" she said.

"Well, yes, I guess so. I mean sure."

"Oh, and they are all black men," said Jana.

They pulled into the driveway and began to unload their stuff. Claire came running down the walk and threw her arms around her sister. Ben, was only a little behind her and grabbed James' hand and then gave his sister-in-law a kiss on the cheek.

"Come on in. You must be road weary," said Ben grabbing Jana's suitcase.

"Thanks, but we're not too bad off, I don't think," said Jana. "It was a pretty straight shot today, not too much traffic."

Pleasantries disposed of, Ben pulled James into the backyard. The patio was a bit run down, but the table was clean and the view of the setting sun was actually romantic.

Ben was short and husky, might have played guard on the football team in high school. He had an easy manner and a quick if not explosive sense of humor. He and Claire had been married for almost thirty years; and, in that time they had never had a dulling of their sex life—an almost unbelievable record. This last was due solely to the matchless imagination of Claire and Ben's willingness to let her make all of the calls.

"Glad you guys could make it up," said Ben. He lounged back in the oversized director's chair that was clearly his thing.

"I am too. We need to get out once in a blue moon," said James.

"Well, I don't know if we can order you up a blue moon, but I think the weekend will be interesting as hell," he said laughing. "Claire has some plans for you that I think you'll like," said Ben.

"Yeah, Jana gave me a clue, only that, but a clue," he said.

"Well, basically there are going to be a couple of guys joining us tomorrow. They are going to fuck our wives into insensibility, and maybe we'll get to played with a little too," he said.

James looked at his brother-in-law and frowned. "Really? You mean in our…"

"Yes, in our butts. You've done it before?"

"Once, and that recently. I got through it. It isn't my number one thing; I'm not gay, but Jana is the boss. If she says bend over, then I will be bending over."

"I'm not strictly speaking gay, either, but I think I have become bi-accepting over the last few years. I especially like it if Claire is watching me get it," said Ben.

"Yeah, I need my wife to be involved too, I think," said James. "For me, she's the one it's all for, all about."

"I know what you're saying, me too," said Ben. "But, when she did make me take it, I mean her lover's dick up the butt, it was pretty exciting. I guess I've learned to like it."

"So what's on the agenda for the night?" said James.

"Just dinner, and kickin' back, I think. One never actually knows for sure when it comes to Claire being involved, but I think she is wanting us all rested up for tomorrow. And so, rested up we shall be." He laughed.

In the house the two sisters were laughing uproariously.

"You had your lover screw him in the ass!" screamed Claire.

"Yes, and I tell you there was terror in his eyes, at least in the beginning," said Jana. "It was all I could to keep a straight face. But, to his credit, he obeyed me and accepted his fate like a good boy."

"I have let my men have Ben fairly often myself. I like to see him getting it. The problem is that he has actually learned to look forward to it, to having my lovers do him. I want him to be embarrassed, humiliated; that's the game, and the clod is actually looking forward to it! Who was it that said, '… the best laid plans of mice and men,' or whatever?"

"Robert Burns."

"Huh?" said Claire.

"Robert Burns, he said it."

"Oh that's good, my sister the literary expert." Claire was choking on her own spit she was laughing so hard.

"Anyway, what about tomorrow?" said Jana.

"Tomorrow, maybe late afternoon, our friends will arrive and then we are going to have more fun than we have a right to wish for," said Claire.

Jana's smile was from ear to ear. "jolly!"

"For sure."

"Howard and Mitch were large men, young men, black men, and reasonable men. The reasonable part redounded from their willingness to do whatever it was that Claire asked them to do. Tonight that would be to fuck her and her sister really, really good! Oh, and to do it in front of their husbands. Geezsus what a scene!

They were sitting at the patio table waiting for the girls to get ready. Standing over to the side talking quietly and watching them were the cuckolds. The introductions had been brief and things had settled into a groove almost immediately.

The two studs were nursing their beers. "What's keeping the women," said Mitch.

Howard looked at him. "Are you serious? They're women," he said matter-of-factly.

Just then the goddesses appeared. "Hi yuh studs," said Claire. She piled into Howard's lap and said, "you ready to deal with the problem, I've got, Howard baby?"

"Oh yeah," he said.

Jana eased into Mitch's lap and looked over at her husband. She smiled at him, and then turned her attention to her lover for the night. James was definitely the second place finisher in this race.

The women and their studs traded kisses ad small talk for some minutes. Claire eased back and looked at the gentleman she was playing with. "Lets' go inside."

"Good idea," said Howard.

The little group all rose and meandered into the living room. Just as they were going in, Jana turned back to the cucks. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come on cuckies, I'm sure we can figure a way to make use of your talents."

Ten minutes later the girls were both kneeling on the couch, side by side, with their knees spread wide and their naked asses pointed rearward while the two studs began pushing their cocks into them.

The cucks, fully clothed, were on their knees, hands at their sides a few feet away watching their wives getting boned by strangers.

The girls were panting and wiggling trying to adjust to the giant cocks pounding inside of them. Jana turned to her left and looked over at her sister who was gasping as she began to feel the beginnings of an orgasm starting to consume her.

"Geezsus! Claire, we're a fucked, I mean really fucked. Gawd, this guy is big. He's killing me!"

"Yes we are, dear, fucked that iiss." She went over the top. She sagged into the cushions in front of her as he pulled out.

The big man looked at the cucks kneeling next to them. "Well, come here," said Howard indicating Ben.

Ben crawled over to him and took his shrinking cock in his hand, pulled it into his mouth and began sucking and licking him clean.

Next to them Mitch was unloading into Jana's pussy and she was stiffening herself as she made it to the top of sexual fulfillment. Satisfied, she looked to her right. Her husband was staring at her.

"Do your duty too," she said as she lay her head against the back of the couch trying to relax a little and catch her breath.

James, mimicking Ben, moved on his knees over to the black man that had just fucked his wife. Taking hold of his eight-inch tree trunk, he too began sucking and licking the man clean.

The cucks having completed the first half of their job were summoned by crooked fingers to service the females.

"Our anuses too," cautioned Claire. "Do a good job and maybe you two little fellows will be rewarded."

The cucks were avid in their attentions. The possibility of just being able to get out of their cock cages motivated them.

**

At around midnight the boys left. There was lots of kissing and hugging and promises to come back upon demand. Even the cucks joined in the farewells. The studs had treated them with care if not actual respect.

"Cuckies, join us in the den, and bring us some drinks; you know what we like." The two slaves jumped to the task; the hope of reward making them move exponentially faster than was usual for such requests.

The drinks were soon in the hands of their still naked wives.

"You've done well, cuckies," said Claire. "I really enjoyed the evening. Now it's your turn to be fuck."

Ben and James looked at each other like they hadn't heard the words that they were both sure that they had indeed heard.

"Come here, Ben," said Claire.

"Come here," echoed Jana. "We have to remove your cocky cages, don't we." Jana was giggling. James knew the tone; there was something going on, something amiss.

The two men, freed of their restraints were massaging their poles. At least we're out of those, thought James.

Claire leaned close to Jana and whispered something. Jana laughed outright, she couldn't contain herself. But she made a huge effort and managed finally to calm down and keep a rather forced straight face.

James knew they were screwed now for sure. He knew Jana like no one else knew anybody else. Something really bad was about to happen to them. But what!

"You did say we were going to be able to fuck?" said James.

"Yes, dear, absolutely," said Jana almost sincerely.

James started to relax. Okay, he thought, the one thing Jana never did was lie to him. He must have been suspicious over nothing. He moved toward his wife and reached for her breasts. He almost had them when she took his hands in hers, and looked into his eyes.

"Oh no, dear, not me. You're going to screw Ben."

The shock and disappointment that engulfed him actually nearly brought him to tears: tears of frustration.

"You didn't think you were getting into my pants did you, dear. You know that you cucks can never be allowed into a woman's pussy. It's the law of nature. You fellows are wimps and have to act and live as such. You know that, dear, right?"

James was trying to bring himself to some level of—something. He nodded his submission to his wife.

Ben was kneeling next to his wife. If he hadn't known what was up, he suspected it; he knew his wife too. In any event, he was far less upset than was James.

Claire handed James a jar of KY jelly. Her meaning was clear. He was going to have to fuck his brother-in-law and prepare him before he did it.

James' cock, which earlier had been hard as a rock, had now had been miniaturized in tune with his disappointment. "Oh my Claire, my husband isn't ready to do your husband. Look, his cock is way soft."

"We'll fix that," said Claire. "I know just how to do it.

"James, give me back the jar."

He did as she asked.

She handed it to her husband. "Ben, you fuck James first. That will get him back in the mood to do his duty."

The look on James' face was total resignation.

Jana was concerned. She wanted her husband to submit, but she was very much afraid that she had pushed him over the edge. He was obeying, but his heart wasn't in it. He was really hurt or frustrated or disappointed or something because of the way she and Claire had played them. She went to him. She wrapped her arms around him.

"I know you are a little bit upset, dear. But, we love you. It was a mean joke to play on you. But, you need to obey me now, okay?"

Her tone was so sympathetic that James began to feel guilty about showing his disappointment. "I'm sorry, honey, I don't know what got into me. I just…"

"It's all right, dear. But, now it's time to bend over and let Ben fuck you. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." He said. His cock was starting to awaken; she noticed it, but said nothing. She didn't want to break the mood.

"Come on now, kneel up on the bench there like we girls did on the couch in the other room. Okay?"

He nodded.

James' naked ass was poised high in the air, his head resting on his forearm on the surface of the low, padded workout bench. He waited for the other man to enter him, to fuck him; it would be only his second such experience. His cock was now telling a different tale than had been the case but minutes before; he was excited once more.

He felt Ben grip his hips. He felt the glans of the other man began to press against his less than experienced butt orifice. The man gained entry and slowly fucked him while the two wives looked on smiling.

"Good job, Ben," said Jana. "Sock it to my lovely man. He needs to get a good screwing tonight."

"Nice and easy, husband," chimed in Claire, "he's still new to the feeling."

Ben did his best to deliver on their requests. He really liked his brother-in-law; he wanted to be liked by him.

Then it happened. James began shivering and jerking. He was cumming! His innards had been sufficiently stimulated to induce an orgasm. Just at the time he unloaded on the bench, Ben unloaded inside of him. The timing could not have been better. The girls cheered.

"Good job," screamed Jana. She got up and wrapped her arms around Ben even while he was still inside of her husband. "Good job for you too, big guy. You and I will be talking later.

**

It was late by the time that Ben blew his load into James. That fact and the fact that James had spewed a quart of his own essence onto the bench made it too much to ask James to return the favor per Ben. The group decided to hit the hay.

The next day Jana and James said their goodbyes and returned to the city. That night, in bed, they talked.

Jana was very concerned that her man understand not only his place but also that she loved him and only him. James couldn't know it, but his wife would worry over that for weeks before settling into the groove again.

"I love you, James. You know that, right? I would never hurt you my love. Not on purpose."

In answer he leaned over and held her close and kissed her. He kissed her so gently that she almost cried for the happiness it portended.

Part 3: The Sequel

James:

Jana has been watching me ever since we have returned from Ben and Claire's. She could tell I was thinking of all that had happened and she was worried. Her plan to deny me sex, and that forever, was weighing on me. I was pretty sure she knew it too. I haven't said anything. I have been as obedient as before. But, I just couldn't help feeling?I don't know'maybe abandoned. I have a bad feeling.

I love Jana, but to never have sex with her again? My own wife? I am fast coming to the realization, that if I can't have her, that I will just have to leave her. I love her too much to end up a de facto eunuch. The scene with Ben that weekend will not leave me, and I cannot think why Jana and Claire thought it was so funny. I have to face facts: Jana apparently doesn't love me as much as I love her. It's only a matter of time before I get up the courage to confront her or maybe even just leave, save us all the hassle. But, I am still holding back waiting for her to say or do something that will make things okay again?hope springs eternal as said the ancient.

I am getting ready for work at my new job. I will be creating and modifying software for HardDrive Inc. Beginning today. I will be making in the mid six figures, and the benefits are fantastic. I love computers!

She is waiting for me in the kitchen.

"Morning, honey," she said. "Coffee?"

I smiled a plastic smile in her direction, "Sure, and some toast and jam too," I said.

"Got it," she said. She seemed pleased to be able to do something for me. Her words made me feel a little bit better about her.

"Thanks," I said.

We sipped our coffee and munched our toast making small talk as husbands and wives do at that early hour of the day.

"First day," she said, "excited?"

"Yes, kinda," I said. "But it's no biggee. I can do what they need done, so it'll go smooth I guess."

"I'm sure of that," she said.

"Honey? Is something bothering you?" she said. "You seem?"

"I'm okay." But my tone indicated that I was not okay. She winced.

"It's about the weekend we spent up north isn't it," she said, ignoring my 'okay' remark.

"No, really, I'm okay," I said. I looked at my watch. "I gotta go." I slurped another sip of coffee, rose, grabbed my briefcase, and left. I am still wimping out not wanting to do battle, at least not yet; I could just kick myself.

Jana:

"Hi Claire ... yeah it's me ... fine ... yeah, it's about James ... uhuh ... he's despondent ... I think we may have made a mistake not letting them have us ... yeah, that's what I think too ... uhuh ... yeah it was a dirty trick ... you're coming down Saturday ... okay later ... yeah we've got a lot of mending to do ... yeah, okay, I'll let you get back to it," she hung up.

Something is wrong, and I know it. James won't admit to it, but it was the weekend that we were up to Ben and Claire's. Denying him and Ben sex was a mistake, maybe a big mistake. I knew when I looked into James eyes that night it had been a mistake, but I couldn't take it back, show weakness. The worst of it was that I have told him he could never have sex with a woman, any woman, again. It was bullshit of course. I know a man can't go forever without getting any. But, at the time it was part of the scene, just empty words. But, now I've got a problem. I have to take them back, the words, without losing control of the lifestyle that he says "he" wants, and yes, that I want.

But now, how to fix it without giving up all of the groundwork we have built up to now. I'm not ready to give up the men, and neither is Claire; we likely never will be ready. Our husbands are willing cuckolds and it's for their own good that we enjoy ourselves. In every way but intercourse they are being treated better and more lovingly than they ever have; certainly that's true of James. So, if I give in and let James dictate to me now, I know it will be the beginning of the end of what we have. But, on the other hand, could I lose him? That would be intolerable; I love him. No, I don't really think I'll lose him, but I do have to consider the possibility. If I had to make a choice?gawd! that would be the worst.

Claire and Ben will be coming down Saturday. We'll fix things then'somehow. I have the very strong feeling that Saturday and Sunday will be the mother of all weekends, and that in more ways than one.

"Let me help you with those bags, Ben," I said picking up one of the big ones.

"Thanks, brother," said Ben. We trailed behind the two women as they went into the house.

Lunch was buffet. Jana had put together the makings for tacos and had made sure there was plenty of beer and wine in the frig. Talk at lunch was animated and we laughed and ate and then adjourned to the sundeck at the rear of the house.

"Honey, I'm going to take Claire inside and show her the new clothes you bought me last week. You and Ben stay here and visit, okay?"

"Sure thing," I said. The ladies disappeared into the house. I knew that they were going to be talking about us, or at least me. I wanted them to. Besides, I wanted to talk to Ben anyway.

"I took a seat at the picnic table. The umbrella over it was no longer protecting us from the waning sun, but I had my sunglasses and my hat, so it was all right. Ben sat with his back to the sun, so he was okay too.

"They're talking about you," said Ben.

"Oh? And you know that how?" I said. "Maybe they're talking about you." I laughed.

"No, it's about you. Jana's worried that you're upset with her, with the whole deal," he said. He knew I knew what he was talking about.

I nodded taking on a more serious aspect.

"Jana called earlier in the week. She thinks they, the girls, may have gone too far," said Ben.

"What do you think, Ben?" he wasn't ready for me to pin him like that. "I mean, really?"

"I don't know. Sometimes the girls, well, they do go too far. They're women; it's their job to be unpredictable," he said.

"Are you okay with never having sex again with Claire?" I said. "because I'm not okay with never having it with Jana, and that's the long and the short of it as far as I'm concerned."

"I figured that. It's tough for me too," he said. "For now, I am going along with it. How about you? Whaddya thinking? Are you going to lay down the law? What? I mean if it's intolerable for you."

"Not sure yet. I am not happy with the way things are developing, like I say. I know I'm her cuckold and probably always will be. But, never to make love to her again while other men use her with no problem? No, it ain't gonna be that way. I am not happy with that. I don't know how long I can take it. I just know I won't be able to take it for long," I said.

"You saying it that way makes me wonder about the same things," he said. "I love Claire, but to never?"

"Exactly," I said. "I don't know, but I have a feeling that things will be coming to a head this weekend. I'm just not sure if that's going to be a good thing or a bad thing. I don't want to lose her; but, maybe I already have." I leaned back and waited for Ben to say something.

"Hmm," he said at last.

About half an hour later Jana called from the house. At that moment, I didn't know it but the moment of truth had arrived.

"Boys, come on and get yourselves in here, okay?"

Ben and I looked at each other. We tilted back the two dying Indians and put the empties on the table and strode back into the house.

What greeted us were two stunning women in stockings and high heels and nothing else. I stared. Ben stared. We were momentarily shocked. I looked around to see if some men had arrived. No sign of any. I was confused, and Jana could see it.

"Honey, this is for you and Ben. There are no other men going to be here tonight," she said. She was all bubbly. Clearly Claire and she had decided we needed some bucking up.

"You decided?" I was stopped, stupefied. But her words'my cock which had begun its rise, wilted in my pants. "I can't," I said. I walked quickly to the front door and out. I got in my car, which was parked at the curb, and drove off. Two stunned women and a confused brother-in-law went to the door after I'd passed through it and watched in surprise as I left.

"Oh shit, Claire, what have we done!" said Jana.

"I?I don't know," said Claire. "I mean we didn't do anything. I thought you said he needed to have sex with you? Could it be something else? Could you have missed the signals?"

"Ben!" they said at the same time.

"I'm not sure," said Ben. "Jim is confused. Confused as you are. He thinks you don't love him, at least not as much as he loves you."

"What are you talking about, you crazy oaf," said Claire. "Does this look like we don't love you two?" her hand swept down her body indicating her nakedness and Jana's and their clear willingness to be fucked."

Ben snickered. "For a couple of pretty smart babes you two are sure acting like idiots. You don't look like loving wives you look like a couple of cheap ass hookers!"

"What the fuck!" said Claire, smarting at the unexpected insult. "Ben, have you lost your mind!"

"No. Jana, where does James like to go if he wants to unwind, have a drink, whatever," said Ben.

"Uh, the Dog House. It's a sawdust joint about half a mile down the road. But why..."

"You two just stay here?and get dressed. Neither he nor I are interested in fucking a couple of sluts; we, both of us, are looking for love. Try and understand that before we get back," he said.

Jana had been right. Entering the Dog House, Ben spotted James at the bar. He was downing some sort of brown whiskey not beer. He was clearly trying to get himself loaded.

"Hi brother," said Ben coming up behind his quarry.

"Oh hi, Ben. I guess they're pretty mad, huh?"

"More shocked than mad I think. I told them to get dressed by the time we get back."

"I'm not sure I'm going back. I'll need a bunch more of these before I can make that decision," I said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think so. When I saw them there?I started to get physically sick. They were treating us like one of their dates. I don't want to be a date, and I don't want them making the decisions for me about sex. It's all clear to me now. I need my wife not a femdom mistress. I know she's not going to go for that, so it's over. I think I've decided to file for divorce Monday."

"Wow," said Ben. "That's heavy. Are you sure about this?"

"No, I'm not sure. I love that woman with all of my heart, but she doesn't love me, not like I need at any rate."

"I'm not sure you're right about that," said Ben. "I think our wives are acting stupid, but I am equally sure that they do love us and only us. They've just gotten caught up in the game and don't see a logical path to?what?adjust things so as to make them run smoother."

"I don't know, Ben, I'm afraid I don't see it the same way you do," I said.

"I think you would," he said, "if you had seen their faces not only when you left just now, but me too. I kinda laid it on them."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I told them they were idiots for not realizing what they were doing and to get it together before we got back."

I laughed. "You've got balls of brass, young man," I said. "Maybe I will go back with you. I really am curious to see how they react. But, before I do go back, if I do, I am going to have several more of these delightful cocktails."

"What are those things, anyway?" said Ben.

"Brandy manhattans," I said.

"I got the next round," said Ben.

Delighted to accommodate yuh," I said.

It was getting close to 10:00PM when Ben and I mounted the steps to my house. Drunk as skunks we were, but not too drunk to understand that what awaited us inside might not be all that pleasant.

Staggering through the door arms around each other, we couldn't see a thing. The room was dark. There was not light in the kitchen, nothing. The lack of any sign of life sobered me a little. I looked at Ben.

"The cars are out front," he said. "Unless they called a cab or something. They're here."

I reached to turn on a light. Glancing around I saw a full sized sheets of loose-leaf paper taped above the fireplace. I went to it. "No," I said. "They got a ride from someone else. They're on a date."

Ben's face fell as far as did mine. "That's it for me," I said. "I'm leaving her, and I'm doing it now."

"James?"

"Save it, Ben. This is a message, and I get it. I'm through." I headed upstairs. I grabbed a couple of suitcases from the walk-in and began loading them up with the things I'd need. I knew I'd have to come back at some point to get the rest, but Jana and I were quits.

Heading back downstairs, Ben was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard me.

"Ben, give my love to the girls, especially to Jana. But, tell her I can't do it anymore," I said. "I've decided that vanilla is going to be my flavor from now on. Call me ordinary."

He nodded. I turned at the door. I could see he was hurting too. "You gonna be okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't have the balls to leave. If you need anything. Well, you know my cell."

"Yeah," I said. And, I left.

Ben awoke to the sound of a car engine coming into the driveway at 2:00AM. He waited in the dark for the women to enter. They weren't alone.

The brightness of the light caused him to squint from his makeshift bed on the couch. "Geezsus, that's bright," he said.

"You boys go into the kitchen for a minute, okay," Claire's voice said. "We'll be along."

Ben watched as two men, one black and one white disappeared into the kitchen.

"Is James asleep upstairs?" said Jana, sounding a little miffed.

"No, he's gone," said Ben.

"Gone? Gone where?" said Jana.

"Gone. He's leaving you. He made the decision when he read your note. I think he's filing for divorce on Monday."

Jana was stunned. She looked at her sister. "Claire?I?"

"Ben, did he say where he was going?" said Claire.

"Haven't got a clue, and I'm not sure I'd tell you if I did."

"Fuck! Sonovabitch! This wasn't supposed to happen. We were just tryin' to teach him a lesson," said Claire.

"Well, you two idiots have. He gets it, Jana. You don't love him as much as you love your little lifestyle. He gets it and he doesn't like it. And as for you my idiot wife; well, I'm not all that sure that I won't be following in his footsteps. So if you have a brain in your pretty head, you'll send those two playmates you picked up back where they came from and sit down to talk?with me. Your choice."

Claire stared at him with a shocked look on her face. He'd not used that tone of voice with her?well?ever! "Ben, what has gotten into you..."

"Shut the fuck up, Claire. Either get rid of the riff-raff in there, or I'm leaving too. I'm not bluffing."

The two women looked at each other. Jana nodded. The two of them went into the kitchen. There was some yelling, but the two frustrated men came storming out of the kitchen and left cursing as they did.

He hadn't noticed until now, but he was taken with the sexiness of the two women's attire. "You look sexy, both of you," he said.

"Ben, cut the crap. Tell us what's going on," said Claire.

"James is hurting real bad, Jana. He came back with me, mostly against his better judgment; but I had gotten him to hoping things might be made right. Then, he found your note. Needless to say, it wasn't his idea of how to make things right. It may be too late now to get him to reconcile.

"I can't believe you two fools actually tried to teach him a lesson by getting two more studs to come here and cuckold him, us, again. There just aren't words enough to describe how idiotic your idea was."

"Ben, you've got to find him. I need to talk to him," said Jana.

"He took a couple of suitcases with him. He'll be finding a place to stay for a few days at least. He said he'll be back for the rest of his stuff at some point, but he didn't say when. Jana, if he ever does agree to talk it out with you, you're going to have to be changing your positions on a lot of things. And, number one you better be a lot better listener than a talker if you have any sense left at all."

Jana nodded and started to sob. "I've lost him, Ben. I've lost him. How could I be such a fool. Ben's right, Claire, this was a bad idea. Oh, I'm not blaming you; I'm just as responsible as you are."

"Jana?I"

"Claire, I'm going to bed. I need to be alone. You and Ben take the guest room as planned. We need to talk, but we'll do it in the morning. Hell, it already is morning. Well, later this morning," said Jana. She turned and went upstairs.

Claire slumped into a chair across from her husband. "We thought?no I thought'that we could entice him back into the fold," said Claire. "Obviously there was more of a problem there than either Jana or I knew."

"Obviously," said Ben, an edge of sarcasm in his tone.

I called Frank Sexton my new boss and told him I needed some time off due to some very difficult personal circumstances. He was understanding, and I got the week I needed to get things done and to think.

The Market Street bed and breakfast was a small hotel on the outskirts of town, but was close enough to my new job that when I did get back, I'd be able to save a lot of time in the morning. It had the virtue of a country western bar and grill downstairs as well. I rented a third floor walkup and sacked out a soon as I arrived. Since it was Friday night, or actually the wee-smalls of Saturday morning, I didn't have to be at work again for a full nine days. I needed the time to think, drink, and brood.

The morning sun shattered any thoughts I had of maybe sleeping in. My dreams hadn't been worth a damn anyway. I grabbed my watch from the night stand next to my bed. It was almost 7:00AM. I decided to get cleaned up and take a walk, have a look around.

My look around took three hours. I just kept walking. I wasn't even thinking. I was just walking. As I returned, and neared the hotel, I remembered the bar. I decided to check it out. After all, it was likely going to be seeing a lot of me. I got to the door and the sign read that the place didn't open until 2:00PM. Fair enough, I would get something to eat, maybe shower, and then come back later on.

The food in the little in-house restaurant wasn't bad. I had a hamburger and some wedge cut fries. I flirted with the waitress, Annabelle was her name, but she was somber and not returning my very out of practice advances. As I sipped my third cup of coffee of the day, I saw Annabelle arguing or something with a guy wearing a tie, apparently the owner. She left him in a huff and returned to the restaurant and began giving refills to the sparse crowd in attendance.

"Got a problem," I said, smiling, as she poured the black elixir into my mug. I indicated the spot where she had been having it out with the man.

She sighed. "No, the manager is pissed off at my brother. He's supposed to be here. He was paid to fix the in-house server and he hasn't shown up. Anyway, the boss is blaming me for lack of another target," she said.

"Server?"

"Yeah, that computer thingy. You know, a server for the computer thingy here."

"Oh yeah," I said, "the computer thingy. Hey, maybe I can be of help. Wanna take me to your leader?"

"You? You know computer stuff. Yeah, it's my job. I can take a look at it. I mean if it would save your brother and you some grief."

"Okay, if you wanna try. The boss is real uptight about it. I don't give a damn about the things myself," she said.

She led me into the back offices and introduced me to George, the owner operator of the establishment. Turns out that the he owns half a dozen places just like the one I was staying. The server was important because it coordinated activity between them all. It handled costs, buys, registrations and a dozen other things. With the server down, control was lost.

"James," I said, as Annabelle tried to introduce him to me. He showed me around and I saw his problem right away. It was almost too easy. I made a show of doing some heavy switching and software manipulation and had his system up and running in about twenty minutes. Needless to say my rent owed was zeroed out. Since I figured to be there for a week or more, the free rent more than made up for the exploitation of my genius. What it didn't make up for was my broken heart. For that I would need a talented bartender.

I showed up at the bar at 2:00PM sharp. I had no more than finished my first Miller's than a woman, maybe forty-five or fifty, took the stool beside me.

"Buy a girl a drink, mister?" she said.

"Sure," I said.

"Paula," she said.

"James," I returned.

"Here alone, James?"

"Yeah, very," I said.

She picked up on the very. "Wife problems?"

I looked at her. Why I decided to unburden myself to her, I will never know. But, I did, and soon, and for the first time in many years, I found myself fucking a woman I was not married to. Turns out her husband left her, for a teeny-bopper?her words?and her situation was somewhat akin to mine. She was alone, and looking for answers at the bottom of a glass.

She undressed for me and then she undressed me. She looked good. Slim, a few wrinkles, but otherwise smooth skin. She was also exceedingly adept at blow jobs. I don't know what her husband could have been thinking, but this was a jewel of a woman. I was reasonably sure that any woman under the age of thirty-five would be hard pressed to match her skills.

When I went down on her she cried in gratitude. I, on the other hand didn't cry, but I did slurp and slobber a lot. She tasted great. We slept together that night cuddling and comforting each other in our respective misery.

We went down to breakfast early and took our plates out on the porch, where a dozen tables waited. The morning chill was soon forgotten in our desire to talk.

"So, do you have any plans to talk to her, James?"

I looked at her. "I don't know. I suppose I will have to at some point. But, we are definitely not on the same page, and I'm at a place where compromise is not going to happen."

"How about you, Paula? Any chance that your errant mate will figure out what he's lost, and if he does, would you take his cheating ass back?"

"I doubt it. First, I am not willing to wait for him to discover that he's an idiot. And second he was pretty cruel to me. There are the kids of course. But they're grown and gone, so I don't know what I would gain by taking him back except a man who has shown just how disrespectful and untrustworthy he can be," she said.

"Know the feeling." We talked for hours and I think it did us both some good. At least we were able to vent. She left for New York the following morning, her sister's place. As for me, I decided to hang out for a few days.

I knew that Jana would be looking for me, and it gave me some satisfaction that that was likely the case. She could sweat for a change. On Thursday, I told George, the owner, that I would be heading out.

Arriving in town, I headed first for my lawyers. I had decided to set the wheels for divorce in motion. If by some miracle the marriage could be saved, we would have six months to end the proceedings, but I was not sanguine about our chances.

After taking care of the legal stuff, I hit the bank and transferred half of our money into a new account at another bank. I went to motor vehicles and transferred the ownership of the Volvo to Jana. My Ford was already exclusively in my name.

She could have the house, but no alimony. She worked and made pretty good money too, so that would not likely be an issue. I asked Jess, my lawyer, to have her served at work. He agreed.

It was Thursday, and I knew she'd be at work. I took that opportunity to go back to the house and get the rest of my stuff. Walking in I saw the letter taped to the TV. She was hoping I would see it.

Jim, I was a fool. I haven't slept or eaten, not very much anyway, since you left. Please give me a chance, please. Call me at work or on my cell.

Your loving wife, Jana.

Short and sweet. I was tempted to call her. It had been hell every night thinking about her, but I decided to hold off calling until she was served. It would give me some extra torque in my talk with her "if" I discovered that there was going to be a chance for reconciliation.

Jana was sitting at her desk flipping her pencil around. She was listless and tired. Claire and Ben had hung around for a few days, but their jobs required that they got back. They had left the day before. The knock on her door broker her out of her reverie. She got up to answer it.

"Mrs. Caulfield?" said the man in the charcoal suit and glasses.

"Yes?"

"You're served," he said, handing her a manila envelope. He turned on his heels and left without another word.

There are times in life when one can still be alive, but physically, not be able to think, hear, feel, taste, do anything. The sensation rarely lastly long, but it is never forgotten once experienced. Jana experienced such an instance now. She knew what the envelope contained and she was stunned. It couldn't be happening. Her eyes started to well-up. The tears came, and then the sobs.

Minutes later a coworker found her sitting on a bench in front of the building. She'd needed to get out, to get some air, to breathe. The sun was cooking her face, but she didn't seem to care.

"Jana?" said her coworker.

"Oh, Marsha I?" She broke down sobbing. "I've been such a fool."

The two talked for some minutes before Marsha was able to get her to come inside and at least get out of the sun and heat of the day.

On her way home, Jana made a decision. All of the plans and fun and wild sex and playing around that had been her goals, and for that matter James' as well, were done forever, over, finished. If she got the chance, she was going to apologize abjectly to her husband and try to build a new-old relationship with him based on their undeniable love for each other?if she got the chance. A chance seemed but a remote possibility at that moment, but she was going to do her best to work in that direction. She had hope, faint as it might be, she still had hope.

Saturday I called Ben. I wanted to meet with him. He was able to arrange coming down to the city. We planned to meet in town, not far from the house that Jana and I had shared for years until the blow up.

"Drinks are on you," said Ben taking a seat in the booth across from me.

"You got it," I said. "Well, you know why I called you."

"Yes. And I can tell you a lot, but you really need to think over things before you decide. Those two women'mine as well as yours?are stricken," said Ben. "They know they blew it, and they will do almost anything to make it right with you."

"I'm not doubting that you believe what you're saying, Ben. But, we've been down that road once already. What I'm saying is that if Jana thinks that I will be willing to compromise in this, in any part of it; then, she is going to find that she is sadly in error. Truth is, Ben, that I am not even sure I want to speak to her," I said. "But, tell me what you got."

We spoke for an hour. Ben knew that Jana had been served and she had taken off from work and was staying with them. It seems that she was so devastated by the divorce papers that she couldn't function coherently. She and Claire had spent large parts of the last few days crying in each others' beer.

"You really should call, Jana, one last time at least," said Ben. "You will have to anyway at some point. I say do it sooner rather than later. Man they're killing me with all of the cryin' and shoutin' at me, and even each other."

"And you think that she'll listen rather than pull anymore shit?" I said.

"Yes," said Ben.

"Okay, tell her I will meet with her tomorrow, at our house."

"Will do," said Ben.

"And, Ben, let her know what I said to you here, okay. I don't want there to be any misunderstanding, Ben. There will be no compromise. Then first hint of anything that I consider unacceptable, I will up and walkout for good."

"Got it," he said. "I'll let her know. I will call you to let you know the skinny."

"That'll be good."

I watched as he drove off. I decided to go home and relax. Tomorrow would be a full day.

I got up late and showered and dressed. Then, I took a walk in a nearby neighborhood park. Watching the kids playing and family setting up barbecues for lunch made me think about how Jana and I should be doing the same things. But, we weren't. We were well on our way to getting divorced. Everything, for us as a couple, depended on what would happen today.

I had been home from my walk for no more than half an hour when I heard the car pull into the driveway. I went to the window and looked out. Jana exited the car and leaned back against it for a moment in thought. I could almost see her mental wheels turning.

She headed up the steps and came in. She dropped her handbag on the little table next to the entrance and looked at me standing across the room from her.

"Jim? I am so sorry." She started to cry. I went to her and led her to the couch and sat her down. "Is it too late to stop the divorce?" she pleaded.

That was a question that I didn't want to answer, couldn't answer, until I got some answers of my own. "I don't know, Jana. I guess that's what we are meeting to find out," I said, finally.

"Oh Jim, anything!" she said. "I'll do anything. Just don't divorce me."

"Jana?would you like some water?" I needed her to calm down and get her to think rationally. I knew that she didn't want a divorce, but what I was going to require she might or might not go for, so I wanted to slow things down a bit to get some coherent, well thought out answers from her first, not merely emotional ones.

"Yes, please," she said.

I returned with the water and she downed in one gulp. She had to have been thirsty. I imagined that she had driven straight through without so much as stopping for a cup of coffee.

"Feel better," I said.

"Yes, thank you," she said.

"Jim, it seems that I have misread what it was that you wanted and needed. I wanted to please you, give you what you wanted. I thought I had it all figured out. Claire and I, well, we were way off base, both when we were up at their place and last week when we foolishly thought we would teach you and Ben a lesson..."

"Okay, Jana," I said interrupting her. "You are right those things were the straws that broke the camel's back. When you told me that there would be no sex for me ever again?well?I became frightened. I can't live like that, Jana. I need sex, and I need it all of the time and when I say, not just when you have the time for me," I said.

"I understand that, Jim. I am such a fucking idiot. That day last week when Claire and I played whores to get you all stirred up and'serviced?we thought it would turn you on. We were not prepared for what you did."

"Then why did you leave me and Ben that note that you were going out on dates whether we liked it or not. That killed my heart, Jana, and for the record, Ben wasn't exactly thrilled either."

"We know that now. Of all of the stupid things we did; that had to have been our crowning achievement. I wouldn't be at all out of sorts if you were to take the belt to my ass the way I did yours that day. I deserve it, and I would be grateful if you did," she said.

"What about sex with me, Jana? I need to hear you tell me what you are willing to do? I need to know now," I said.

"Any time any place," she said. "No limits, not ever."

"And what about our agreement about respecting me and not allowing insults or foul language if we were to invite another man into the scene?" I said.

"Huh?"

"I said, if we were to allow other men into our little group, what about following the rules that we had already agreed to?"

"I thought'that?I thought that you didn't want to?you know?"

"Jana, I never said I didn't want to be cuckolded. I said I didn't want to be insulted or otherwise disrespected. I can't believe that you don't get it. You know me. You know I mean what I say, always."

She looked at me and watched me closely. "James, I don't want to blow this chance, if it is a chance, to save my marriage. I wasn't going to make any demands today or really ask any questions. Whatever you wanted was what I was willing to give. But, I do have one question still to ask. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you saying?you know'that you still want to be cuckolded? Did I hear you right?"

"Yes, but with conditions and you know what they are," I said.

"Ja?Jam?James?wow," she said softly. "I don't know how to react, James. I really don't. I'm afraid, James," she said.

"Don't be afraid, Just tell me if you agree?" I said. Her tentative smile said it all.

It was almost 7:00PM and I was late. I was late because I wasn't sure if I even wanted to be there. Jana and I had made the decision to let other men have her, on occasion, and that I would be allowed to watch or not watch as I saw fit.

I came into the kitchen and hesitated. I knew what I would find in the front room. I knew because I had just got off the phone with Jana ten minutes ago and she had told me. This was going to be the night. The rules were in place. The man'some guy named Bruce as I discovered later?was there; she'd found clerking in a supermarket. They were waiting on me.

I walked into the room and Jana smiled at me. It was a smile right enough, but it was a worried smile. After all of the water that had recently passed under the proverbial bridge, she wasn't taking anything for granted. She would grant me my fantasy, and as time went on I would grant her hers, but only after we had both come to agreement for each future event as they occurred.

She pointed at the wooden chair she had bought across the room from the couch that she and Bruce occupied. She said nothing, but rose up and followed me to it; she held a length of half-half inch hemp noose in her hand. I sat in the chair and she kissed me lightly on the lips; still no words passed between up. She slipped the noose over my head and around my neck tightening it to where I wasn't choking but to where it was quite effective in controlling me. She now secured it to the back of the chair allowing me very little freedom of movement.

"Put your hand through the slats in the back of the chair," said Jana, her first words since I had arrived. I did as she said, and she handcuffed them behind me.

She came around in front of me. She took my face in her hands and gently kissed me one more time. "I love you, my little cucky," she said. Picking up a strip of duct tape that had been loosely hanging from the nearby end table, she covered my mouth very completely. I wasn't going anywhere or saying anything for the next while.

For his part, I could see that her lover, Bruce, was nervous. More nervous, if possible, than I was. I nodded in his direction almost imperceptibly, but he got it and nodded back; he didn't try to address me'so far so good, I thought.

They were still fully dressed. Jana walked back to where Bruce sat waiting. He rose to meet here. They stood. She glanced back at me for a long moment, smiled, and turned back to Bruce embracing and kissing him.

Breaking their embrace, Jana let her hands fall to her sides essentially allowing him free access to her. He reached out with his hand and touched her still clad breast. Jana's breathing picked up significantly.

He turned her around and pressed against her backside. She was facing her bound and gagged husband, me. She read my eyes and the bulge in my pants. I was helpless to touch myself or to say or do anything at all. She let her tongue slowly, sensuously wet her lips while her lovers hands explored her body.

Bruce began unbuttoning her blouse from behind having to feel his way as he searched for the buttons, but loving the challenge of it. At odd times he would glance at the me seated and vulnerable but eight feet from them.

Her blouse open, Bruce peeled the garment from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor; Jana's arms still dangled at her sides; she was totally submissive to the man behind her.

Bruce loosed her bra and let it fall too. He reached around and massaged her breasts and nipples. He had clearly been coaches as to how to bring me husband to a high state of excitement. The interesting thing about it was; that Bruce, at least so far had not done anything to insult or cause the man in the chair, me, to not want to be there.

I watched the couple, now. He had her blouse and bra off and had gone to his knees to remove her skirt and panties. Jana's barren pussy was soooo beautiful. My cock throbbed, needing release, but I was cuffed and collared and unable to do anything; it was pure torture, but extremely erotic too.

She turned him around and his hands fell to his sides. She got the message and began to undress him. In a trice he was as naked as she. She went to her knees and reached for his what had to be ten-inch pole. I stared. His dwarfed mine. Jealously began to consume me. I was a willing cuckold and humiliated beyond belief seeing his dick swaying in front of her face as she prepared to lick and suck it. Which she now proceeded to do.

They were profile to me and I watched enviously as his head jerked back in pleasure as she fucked her own mouth. She stopped periodically to lick him and suck his balls into her mouth. She pulled back stroking his cock a few time; she glanced over at me. She could well see that I wasn't so much as blinking. She smiled a question at me: "was I okay?" her smile asked. I nodded her to go on. She rose they embraced.

"Take me doggy-style, okay Bruce?"

"You got it babe," he said.

She came to my chair and placed her hands of the arms, leaning forward and pushing her butt back and spreading her legs so as to be able to accommodate the assault on her steaming pussy. She was staring into my eyes with her face but inches from mine as Bruce began to press into her from behind.

"Oh, it feels so good, my cucky. It feels so good. He is so big and thick. Ugghh," she said, as he thrust all the way to the hilt in her. "Fuck! Oh, my gawd! that hurts," she screamed into my face. "Oh my, he's all the way into my pussy and pushing against my cervix. Oh shit!"

He began screwing her and her eyes glazed over in pleasure as she got used to his huge cock. "I'm totally surrendering to him, James. He is mastering me, James. I have no choice. Oh shit! Oh shit! I'm cummmmmming!"

She shook so hard that her forehead banged into mine and my eyebrow spurted blood. She looked with fear at the cut. I just waved her off with my head telling her with my movements not to worry, the blood leaving a trail down the side of my face.

He took her missionary style next, then with her legs high on her shoulders as he filled her for the third and final time. They lay together exhausted for some minutes.

They talked quietly and so softly that I couldn't hear. But it was obvious she was thanking him for a very good screwing.

Bruce left with not a word to me, probably under orders from Jana. She smiled at me as she came back into the room after letting him out. She was still naked and cum dripped down her leg obscenely.

She left me bound and gagged until she took her shower. Returning from her bath she peeled the tape from my mouth. I breathed better now.

"Are you okay, baby?" she said.

"Yes, but my cock is throbbing," I said.

She laughed and came to me uncuffing me and untying the noose that held me fast to the back of the chair.

She told me to get down on my knees, and holding the long end of the rope like a leash, she walked me as her doggie to the bed. She sat on the edge and pulled me between her spread knees. "Bruce left a present for you, cucky. Now, do your duty." I didn't have to be told twice. I licked and sucked and licked some more. I couldn't get enough. I tried to touch myself several times, but she told me to get my hands away from there until she said I could.

It was no less than thirty minutes later that she removed the noose from me. "Husband, James, it's time for you to make love to me. And, I don't mean just fuck me."

"Oh yeah," I said, about as enthusiastically as I ever said anything. And so I did.

Bruce was invited back several times over the next months. Then, another big dicked lover replaced him. Jana never tired of coming up with ways to excite me. Ben and Claire were brought into the mix. Ben got the same deal from Claire that I had gotten from Jana. The future looked bright.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Seer of Popotla
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A somewhat different kind of cheating wife story
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/62764/the-seer-of-popotla
Published:2010-01-13
I was stunned. What I was hearing was making this day the worst day I had yet lived. As I stood there, behind her, listening to her arranging her liaison-with another man-for sex, I was sick at heart. Still, I was in control; that was something, damn little, but something. I didn't lose it.

I'd gotten home early from my job at Crowley Software. The boss and company owner, Harris Crowley, had given us all the rest of the day off because of the successful completion of the project. Done in time, under budget, and complimented on our achievement by the client-our biggest client, Statten Industries-had brought a smile to the boss' face. The bonus checks, he'd just handed out, brought smiles to everybody else's face.

I worked as a trouble shooter for special software that made organizational problems go away for many major business concerns. But, occasionally-all too often actually-it was necessary to tweak the software to keep things running smoothly for the companies we did business with. Anyway, that was my job. Travel was always in the works for me; it was part of my job description. Weatherly Inc. was a case of installing new and upgraded software this time around and it promised to save their company millions over the next few years; they were very happy.

But, hearing my wife now, the smile on my face faded. The $5,000 check in my coat pocket meaningless at that moment

"Yes, Emile, noon at the usual place… Yes, $500 for the afternoon, no limits… Yes, you can have my ass as usual… Yes, you're the only one who gets that, not even my husband," she said. They talked for another minute or so, while I stood there all but turned to stone, and she hung up.

She was smiling as she turned in my direction. Now it was her smile that quickly faded.

"Well, that's true isn't it," I said, acting more calmly than I felt. "You never did let me have your ass. I stopped asking for it years ago. I guess if I'd have had a few C-notes I could have had it. Right?"

"Ritchie… " Her speech died as she realized how busted she was.

"What? Nothing too say? I would think that you might want to try and save our marriage," I said. "I mean, I confess I don't know what you could say that would unsay what I just heard, but you could at least have the decency to try." I so loved this woman; could the marriage be saved? Hell, I didn't know.

The supreme irony? It had long been my fantasy to watch her with another man. We'd even talked about it, but that had been in years past. Now, that I was a de facto cuckold, an ignorant one, but one nevertheless; how did I feel about it? Bad, I decided.

"Ritchie… " she tried again but finally sank down into a chair at the dinette table. She wasn't looking at me; she was studying the pattern on the tablecloth.

"How long?" I said.

"Ritchie, we need to talk. I need to explain. I know it looks bad, but it's not as bad as it looks if that makes any sense," she said.

"Not really. You wanna stay married, Diana?" Her head snapped up. I was angry and bitter and acting on impulse. One thing I was going to do and that immediately regardless of anything that might happen later.

"Oh god yes!" she almost screamed.

"Then drop your pants," I said. She looked at me funny.

"Huh?" she said.

"It ain't rocket science, Diana. Sounds like you're kind of an expert at this kind of thing. You're a prostitute, right?" I said. She looked down; she knew the jig was up.

"Yes, sort of a call girl," she said.

"So?" I said. I reached into my back pocket pulled out my wallet and threw a one dollar bill on the table. She looked at it not comprehending.

"Huh?" This was getting to be monotonous.

"So, drop your pants," I said. "I'm paying." She looked at me, then at the dollar bill, concern written all over her. She decided to cooperate; she stood and dropped her pants.

"The panties too," I said. She hesitated.

"Ritichie-what…"

"Just do it Diana-or not. If not I want my money back." She complied. She was standing naked from the waist down in front of me. I dropped my pants and underwear. She stared at me, well at my cock at any rate, all six inches of it. It was stone hard. She might be a public whore, but she would never stop being able to arouse me.

I came to her, bent her over the table, and kicked her legs wide apart; she didn't resist. I knelt behind her and spit on her anus pushing a finger deep inside of her. Her head snapped around when she finally realized what was about to happen.

"Ritchie! Please," she said.

"Please what, Diana? You gonna deny me again? You gonna deny me what you apparently give to everybody else? If you say don't do it, I'll back off, collect the money I paid you, get dressed and just leave; and you can go to your little afternoon party and never see me again." I said. She shook her head and reassumed the position. "Good decision."

I worked her back door for some few minutes probing with my fingers and licking her to a state of readiness; her ass did taste great. I was as hard as I'd ever been as I pressed my penis against her sphincter. It spread easily for me; it had clearly had more than its share of usage even if not by me. I pushed in and she grunted from the pressure.

"Please, go easy, Ritchie, okay?" she said. I didn't respond, but I did push in slowly. Soon, though, I was banging her quite properly, and she was responding. I could feel myself ready to cum. I stiffened and unloaded into her. I stayed in her until I literally fell out.

******

She was showering. I waited in the kitchen for her to come back in.

About twenty minutes later she came back dressed and looking pale-worried. But, she'd had time to think about her situation, our situation. I had to admit to being curious about what she could possibly say to me.

"One question before we get into the rest of it," I said. She nodded for me to go on. "Why them your ass and not me, I mean until now?"

"I wanted to give it to you, Ritchie, more than anything; but it's something that I thought might make you suspicious. I didn't used to like the idea; you know that. So, all of a sudden changing my mind? Well, you can see the dilemma I was faced with," she said. "Plus, I still don't like it all that much; it hurts unless the man is very considerate. So…"

"Okay-okay, so, like I said before, how long? I'd appreciate the truth," I said.

"A year, a little more," she said. "Ritchie-do we have a chance?"

"Not sure. You gonna quit?" She looked down. I looked at her.

"You like it don't you?" I said. "You like giving it to other men who pay you to cuckold me?"

"Honestly? I guess I do on some level. Not the cuckolding you part; and I have never allowed any of them to talk about you when we were doing it. I love you and only you. But-the sex-I guess I do. It's exciting, I guess. I mean doing something really naughty like that."

"But now, knowing how you've killed my heart? You gonna quit?" I said. I just couldn't make up my mind if it would make any difference to me if she did say she'd stop, now that I knew. I sure did love her, no doubt about that. But, the staying or the going? it was something that I was going to have to do a lot of thinking about.

"I can't," she said. Okay, that one stunned me. I had expected her to say that she would quit. She had to know that I wouldn't be tolerating anymore of her fucking around behind my back. She couldn't expect me to be okay with it-could she?

"Can't?"

"You'd lose your job." She said.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" I said.

"Ritchie, your boss-he-he-he's the one got me started in this. And, the one you heard me on the phone with just now was Emile Weatherly." She said.

"Weatherly!" It was my turn to literally fall into a chair. Mr. Weatherly was CEO of our largest customer; we'd just completed doing a big contract with him and his, actually his wife's company, she being Annabelle Statten Weatherly: two million dollars worth it meant to us. I'd met Annabelle a number of times; she was a looker, and several years younger than me or my wife; I'd guess maybe thirty-five. She was the granddaughter, and sole heir of the Statten advertising agency's founder Wolf Statten. A player on Madison Avenue in times gone by. Why an old goat like Emile Weatherly would be playing around on her was beyond me. Of course, why she'd even married him was an even bigger mystery, but, whatever.

I guess the rich and famous were never satisfied.

"It was a bit over a year ago. At the Christmas party. You were there. Your boss, Harris Crowley, put it to me. Make a certain client happy, he told me, and you'd be a regional manager by summer. I did it, and you were promoted. It's escalated from there," she said.

I had to think back. I had been promoted. I was now regional manager for public relations. Our software company, one of the most successful in the Midwest, was becoming known internationally. That my wife had been whoring herself out so that I would be promoted made me sick to my stomach.

"You can quit," I said. "I'm done with Cowley Software as of this minute."

"Ritchie! You can't quit. You make $250K annual. You could never get a job like that again, at least not on short notice. We have responsibilities!" she all but screamed.

"Yeah, and chief among them would be to be able to look myself in the mirror every morning and not throw up," I said. "You have any idea how humiliated I feel now, at this moment, knowing what you've been doing behind my back?"

"Ritchie-there was a time when we talked…"

"Yeah, and I was supposed to be a party to any decision about that kind of stuff; I mean if we ever did decide to try anything, Diana. Did you just forget that part?

"Does Weatherly know you're my wife," I said. She looked down; it seemed to be getting to be a habit with her.

"And my other customers, I mean any you've been servicing?" She continued to remain silent.

"God damn it!" I said. "How they must have been laughing at me behind my back. And you helped them do it, probably joined in with them. Humiliated doesn't even begin to cover it. Fuck!"

"No!" she said. "Maybe they did, I don't know, but not me and not around me." I just stared at her. "None of them ever talked about you; your name almost never came up."

"Again, are you going to stop it or not!" I said.

"I can't, Ritchie!" I looked at her. I must have had on a sad face. I know I felt sad. Job gone. Wife almost certainly gone. At least we didn't have kids, I thought.

"I don't know what to tell you, Diana. I am not good with this, not good at all. Call it ego or whatever you want, but I can't deal with this. You don't stop…"

"Richard, I know you're upset, but it's not as bad as you think. It's not the end of the world. We can get by this. I-we-can include you. You know like in our fantasies in the old days. Who cares what these people think so long as they pay us," she said.

"Pay you, Diana, not me? That promotion you got me? Fuck it. Money's ain't what drives me, Diana. I gotta go. I gotta go. You best think about what you're doing or we are over, probably are anyway," I said. "Yes, you better think about it real hard."

"Richard, we'll talk tonight okay? I know I can make you see my side here. I'm sorry I've hurt you. It is the last thing I ever wanted to do. But, we'll talk and I will make it right by you. I'll get Crowley to make it right by you too; I can do that. Okay?" she said; her voice had taken on a begging tone. I shook my head slowly, sadly.

"I gotta go." I turned, grabbed my coat and went out. I could feel her gaze on my back as I closed the door behind me. I had to think. My heart was hurt seriously bad. I was giddy with fear and a sense of loss and betrayal; and hell, who knew what else. She actually thought that she could make me see it her way-fat chance.

And what kind of a wimp was I anyway? I should've just chucked her ass to the curb and saved myself a ton of grief, not to mention self-respect. I needed to know more. Fifteen years invested. She was thirty-nine; I was forty-five. We were just getting to the serious part of our lives, and now this shit!

Diana was no military genius, but she wasn't that stupid-was she? Stupid enough to think I'd go along with her little part time job. Or, maybe I was the stupid one.

******

I knew that there were some things I needed to do immediately whatever else I finally decided. I wasn't going to be caught with my pants down-no pun intended-if it did finally come to a divorce which looked very likely at that moment.

I had to get my act together. I went immediately to the bank and sequestered the near hundred grand, that we'd managed to save, of "my" money, into a numbered offshore account; the Cayman's were a good for that sort of thing, and it was easy if one knew how, and I did. I left the checking account untouched for my whore of a wife; there was only a couple of grand in it, and it wasn't worth the trouble to mess with. Anyway, I almost didn't give a damn anymore-almost. Though not completely decided, I made the decision to ensure that I cut my loses, just in case, once I had made up my mind what to do.

In the next few days I'd kill all of the cards, cancel or change my various insurances, and generally get set for the likely outcome. It wasn't quite inevitable yet, but close.

I didn't go into the office. I was afraid that if I did that I would kill the mother fucker that I had worked for all of these years. I had long fancied myself his best asset, but maybe I had just been kidding myself; maybe his best asset had been my wife! When I didn't show up for work, they'd all figure out, soon enough, that I was gone for good.

I knew too, that as much as she was charging to fuck these guys, Diana probably had a bunch stashed, but who knew for sure. She'd never worked an honest day in her life. For sure she'd have to keep fucking for her bread if I left. Tough shit, I said to myself. I surprised myself at how quickly I seemed to be hardening my feelings toward her.

It was Wednesday and still early. I wondered if she would keep her appointment with Weatherly that afternoon. And if so, where would she would meet him? She'd said something about a hotel. I knew he was married. Annabelle was sixtyish as was her husband, and, Annabelle had the money, and the company, Statten Advertising, was hers; her granddad had left it to her, her mom and dad having been killed in a plane crash when she was seven. If I'd had to guess, she wouldn't be all that thrilled that he was playing around. Oh, how I wanted to sink his ship. Then it hit me. Ron Hodges! My best bud. I pulled my cell. If she was going to meet him, even after our little talk, I wanted to make it memorable for them.

He picked it up on the second ring. "Hey buddy, I need you, and I mean now… El Serape'?… Good. In fifteen," I hung up.

Ron was a detective on the force. If anybody could find the butthead that was planning on doing my wife he could.

I waved him over as he entered the little Mexican bistro.

"Hey compadre," he said. "What's the big emergency?"

The waiter showed up and took our orders: tea for him, a Lite for me.

"I need your help, Ron. Turns out I never knew my wife," I said. I gave him the rundown over the next twenty minutes.

"Jesus, Ritchie, I can't believe it. But yeah, I think I can help you. If they do meet we'll nail 'em. Hang loose for a minute," he said. He pulled his cell and started talking to somebody very fast. He hung up.

"Relax," he said. "it shouldn't be long unless your perp is using an assumed name."

I nodded and tried to suck the last dregs of yellow Pepsi out of the bottle of Lite. I waved at Jeanine for another. A waiter passed by with a pitcher of iced tea and refilled Ron's glass.

His cell went off maybe thirty minutes later. "The Towers?" he said to whoever it was that called him. "Okay, get me pictures and audio too if you can… Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it's short notice. Perps don't send me their schedules ahead of time," he said, hanging up.

"The Lincoln Towers. Only five minutes from here. Want me to have them busted?" He was almost drooling hoping he could make a bust. Ron didn't like overpaid CEOs or their kind. He'd been screwed over in his now long dead marriage by just such an asshole himself; the divorce had been messy.

I nodded. "Yeah, go after them. Make sure missus Weatherly gets a record of the action. Maybe we can make the little twerp pay and cost my former employer his best and biggest client in the bargain. Wouldn't hurt if Diana got a conviction out of this too, I said, hopefully. Well, I was becoming ever more pissed the longer I thought of her in that room with Weatherly.

******

She looked in the mirror and studied the face that reflected back at her. She had to shake it off. Emile Weatherly could cost her husband his job. True, Richard had made noises about quitting. She could understand that. He was hurt and angry, and she had hurt him. But, when it finally came to making that decision for real, she knew he'd hang in there at least for the near term. He'd get over it; she'd be making damn sure of that. He had to; they couldn't make it financially otherwise. She'd have to figure out a way to include him in her activities. He'd always said he wanted to do that kind of stuff, to watch. It'd been a long time since either of them had mentioned it, that was true, but maybe now was the time.

The money she was making on the side didn't come to a fifth of what Ritchie made; and she'd spent much of what she'd made-well, dresses in the kinds of stores she shopped in didn't come cheap. Then too, the house was paid for, but not the beach house or the cabin. The land on the big island was almost paid for; they'd planned to put a bungalow on it as soon as it was. No, he couldn't quit. His job was needed; his paycheck was needed.

"Her" big job was going to be to get him to deal with what his boss, and herself of course, had done to him-but also for him, she reasoned. Yes, she allowed, it was going to be humiliating for him to be around men he knew had had her, and that now would know he knew, but what was a little bit of bent ego when it came to the opportunities that were there for him. All he had to do was look the other way once in awhile, or even join in, while she plied her wares and made a few high rollers happy.

She couldn't keep it up forever, she knew; she was thirty-nine now. When she finally did stop, she and her Ritchie could live the life of Riley off of what they had achieved: he by his business acumen and her by her sexual skills. For the first time that morning she smiled at the image in the mirror; she knew how to get her Ritchie onboard. He was going to be one happy fella when he got home that night.

She finished freshening up for her date and headed out. Emile would be waiting.

******

The balding man was seated at the hotel bar when he saw his afternoon entertainment arrive. Damn that Crowley did know how to take care of a customer, he thought.

"Diana, how the heck are you?" he said.

"Good, Emile," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"Let's have a drink before we head on up," he said. She smiled and took a seat beside him at the bar.

The conversation was light and touched on nothing whatsoever that was meaningful. About fifteen minutes into the little get together, a man two tables away, who had been surreptitiously clicking photographs of the two, smiled; three of the photos were of the man sliding a white envelope over the bartop to the woman, who looked inside of it and counted whatever the contents were; she closed the envelope, and put it in her purse. The man with the camera smiled once again; two utter idiots, he thought.

Weatherly downed his drink and offered his date his arm. She took it and they adjourned to the elevators.

Once in room 1515, she looked around the expensive digs that a man with Weatherly's money and influence could afford. She nodded her appreciation of it all. "Nice," she said.

"I like nice things," he said. "And none is too nice for you, girl." She looked at him, and bid him wait while she freshened up.

In the bathroom a momentary feeling of guilt assailed her. Ritchie was not going to be pleased that she was here; she knew that. But, she consoled herself that she was doing it for him. Weatherly was just an old fossil that needed to get his rocks off and was willing to pay well to make it happen. Ritchie had to know that Weatherly was no threat to him, none of them were. Did they, the johns laugh at him? She hadn't ever given any thought to that before Ritchie had brought it up. They probably did laugh at him, she knew, but it was a small price to pay for all of the advancement and goodies that resulted from their sacrifice-yes their sacrifice, not just Ritchie's. Besides, it was the johns doing the paying not Ritchie. They were the ones that were the true laughingstocks: they had to purchase their pussy; Ritchie never had to. And again, yes, she thought of it as a sacrifice on her part as well as Ritchie's. She was doing it for him, for the both of them.

She made a decision. She would fulfill this assignment and then beg off for a while so that she could mend her fences with her husband. Crowley would just have to understand that sometimes she needed to take care of things at home.

She stripped herself naked, her usual modus operandi and headed back into the room. Entering, she was stunned. Her date was being handcuffed by two uniformed policemen and being read his rights.

"Diana, say nothing to any of them, I'll get you a lawyer," Weatherly yelled at her as he was being led out.

"Wha… " she started, as a female uniform came to her and led her back into the bathroom to re-don her clothes.

Dressed she was led out, cuffed as her john had been, and taken to the elevators.

She had to call Ritchie. Boy was he going to be mad. Would he even come get her. And Weatherly? Would he really foot the bill for a lawyer for her? Shit-shit-shit! Why now? Why when she had so much to do just to convince her Richard that she was doing it for the two of them! God, what a mess.

******

Harris Crowley was seated at his desk when he got the call. It took him less than three hours to get to the jail and get her bailed out. He was standing in the hall, as she came up to him after having retrieved her personal effects.

"How could something like this have happened Diana? Jesus, we could lose Weatherly's account over this. Jesus!"

"I don't know, Harris. I was in the bathroom. When I came out they were leading Mr. Weatherly out in cuffs. I don't know who turned us…"

Suddenly it dawned on her. Ritchie? Could he have? Would he have? No, he didn't know where she was going to be or even for sure if she were going to do it with Weatherly at all. But-who else?

"Harris, it might have been Richard. He caught me on the phone this morning making the date with Weatherly. I talked to him. He wasn't happy about-well you know-the situation. But, I thought that I had calmed him down, explained how little it meant and how big the rewards-"

"Jesus, Diana, you mean he knows about what you do?" said Harris.

"Yes, but, he didn't go crazy or anything. In fact, he fucked me-in the ass," she said. "I thought I had calmed him down. He did walk out after I told him I couldn't quit. I do plan to talk to him later. He loves me. I know he'll be there when I get home at least by tonight. I plan to speak to him and make it right by him if you know what I mean."

"For Christ's sake, Diana, your husband is a very proud man. His ego would never be okay with you dating other men, no matter how big the rewards. Fuck-fuck-fuck! He's my best agent: irreplaceable really! All this time and no problems and then a stupid phone conversation- All of this time! I knew that it could happen, I suppose, but we had taken precautions. Jesus! Do you know where he went?" he said.

"No, I tried to call him to come get me out, but I couldn't reach him. That's why I called you," she said. "But, I know he'll be there for me tonight. He loves me too much to just up and leave. We'll be okay," she said, but she was beginning to worry.

Harris Crowley sank onto a wooden green bench that among others lined the hall at Central Jail. He had to think. "I sure hope so, Diana, I need him more than you do, if you can believe it."

******

"So, you nailed 'em in the act," I said.

"Yeah, they were both naked and getting ready to go at it. We shocked 'em. The old man was furious. Wanted to know-no demanded to know-who set him up. For the record, he wasn't overly concerned about your wife, just himself. He did yell at her, though, to keep her mouth shut until he could get her lawyered up," said Ron.

"Did she ask for me?" I said.

"A dozen times. Tried to call you too. She wouldn't believe that I didn't know where you were. I mean she has been around me a hundred times when I was with you," he said. "She did finally give up asking and called that other guy."

"Crowley?" I said.

"Yeah, that's him. I was sitting four feet away when she called him. She used my desk phone. I locked her up after that, but she was out by 4:00PM.

"You gonna go see her? She's home now; I had her followed. Oh, and Crowley was with her at least until I called off the surveilance," said Ron.

"No, her going on her date killed us as a couple. What would be the point?

"What's gonna happen to her now?" I said.

There'll be a hearing. She's got a clean record. It's a victimless crime in this case. The judge might kick it, or she might get community service. Worst case: thirty days in the county lock up. I can't see it bein' worse than that for her," he said. I nodded.

"Thanks a million, Ron. Yuh, know, I don't feel good about getting her nailed. I should feel good. Shouldn't I?" I said.

"Buddy, affairs of the heart are a real tough nut. I've been through it as you know," said Ron.

"Yeah, I know. Are you over it-her?" I said.

"No."

"Fucking wonderful," I said, about as sardonically as I ever said anything.

"If you are not going back to the house to talk with her, what are you planning to do if may ask," he said.

"I'm gonna drive-south-way south," I said.

"Mexico?" said Ron.

"Yeah, and except for gas and peeing, I ain't gonna be stoppin'," I said.

"Hmm, wish I was goin' with yuh," said Ron.

"This one I'm doin' alone," I said. He nodded.

"I can dig it," he said. "You leavin' me a number so I can get hold of yuh?" he said.

"I'll email you when I get wherever it is I finally end up," I said. "Actually I have a little place in the Baja. I guess I'll go there."

"Okay," he said. We shook hands. He left. I was already packed. While Diana and her asshole were being busted and cooling their heels, I had made good use of the time to finish all of the gettin' rid of stuff and making the calls I needed to make. Anything left undone, I would do through my attorney: Jack Hillings; he'd been my second call in the morning. I'd made it immediately after I'd left Ron at the El Serape.

My final call had been to my secretary, Jean Parker. She was surprised, but understood when I gave her the skinny. She said I could call her if I felt the need, and she'd keep it confidential. Jean was a princess; I knew I could trust her.

******

It was damn near 2,400 miles from Detroit, Michigan, to Popotla in the Baja: Small village no more than fifteen minutes south of Rosarito Beach, the latter famed for its surfing part of the year. Another bud of mine was there. One of the few in the whole world that I absolutely trusted: Juan Diego Santana De Los Robles: the seer of Popotla. Ron couldn't help me get over my hurt, but Juan Diego might; I was certain of it; it's what he was known for; well, in the Baja, in Popotla.

******

Juan smiled. "Ah our women," he mused. "If they lend a man a smile, he feels like a king. If she finds another to love, little can save his heart. It is always, so."

"Not very comforting," I said.

We were sitting out on the veranda of my mobile home. We'd been talking for some two hours. There was a raft of empty Corona bottles stacked on the table in front of us. The mobile was one I had purchased years ago. I had put my friend, Juan, in to take care of it for me. I rarely got this far south, but once or twice a year, I was able to work it out so that, in my travels, I could spend a little time unwinding and reenergizing my brain.

El Vidente de Popotla, the seer of Popotla; for such he was known in the village because of his usually sage advice, and I had met years before when he was working for a company I was engaged to do some work for in L.A. He'd just been laid off-he was fifty-seven at the time-and was about to head back to Mexico, to Popotla. I'd noticed he was feeling down as we exited the building at the same time. I didn't know he'd been laid off or where he was headed or anything about him, but I had a feeling. On an impulse, going over to him, I invited him to have a beer at the bistro across the street. He'd accepted. We'd become friends. I joined him, actually driven him to Popotla, bought the mobile, hired him to be the live in caretaker of the place, provided for him subsistence and the rest, as they say, was history. That was six years ago.

The codicil to all of this was the fact that my wife knew nothing about the place; it had become my get away, my refuge from the cares of the moment.

"It is what the woman is about, my friend, any woman. Men see things in black and white and they are not very understanding of the emotional side of their partners, their wives and lovers. Men are all the rational side of the equation. Women mix the rational with the emotional; it is the way it is," he said.

"It sucks," I said.

"Spoken like a true hombre," he said, laughing. I looked at him and frowned.

"My heart is broken, Juan. She cheated and wanted me to b okay with it." He nodded gravely.

"So why were you not okay with it?" he asked. I looked at him like he was crazy.

"Are you serious!" I said. "Did you not hear me? She cheated on me. I mean she had lovers behind my back! You think I should have been okay with that!"

"Hmm, yes, and your heart was hurt, broken as you say. Yes, a man's pride is important. Did she do it to hurt you to get back at you? Were you cheating on her?" he said.

"No. She did it, she said, to help me in my business, my job. She got me promotions and raises by fucking important men, even my boss," I said. Juan nodded again; he looked pensive.

"So you say she did all of this in secret," he said.

"Yes. Like I said, I caught her talking on the phone about it. She told me she did it for me. But, I know she was loving being fucked by all of those men. Some of them old enough to be her father," I said. I knew I sounded whiney, but it was how I felt.

Juan just sat there looking out at the ocean in the distance.

"Any advice?" I said. He was the El Vidente de Popotla," the seer of Popotla.

"Here in Mexico, so many of my compadres think like, you, like most other men. They do not understand a woman's needs. Only their macho male pride matters to them: their self-respect as they see it. But, it is all just on the surface. There is no thinking it through for them; they're men.

But, you, senor, are different. Go back to your wife and love her. From what we have spoken this past hour, it is clear she loves you, and you love her. You will be happier if you do," he said.

"Be her cuckold! I can't do that," I said.

"Then find a new woman that will treat you better and love her," he said. "But, always remember what a woman is and needs; she is not the same as a man."

"Juan, what are you saying? That it doesn't matter that she cheated on me?" I said.

"It only matters if you think it does. She evidently does not think that it matters," he said. "Is that right?"

"That is right. She doesn't think it does. And, she told me that she didn't want to quit, or actually she said she couldn't quit," I said.

"You must take control of the situation you find yourself in and lead her to where you both need to be. Just remember that her needs are different than yours because she is a woman. A woman is fragile, and emotional, and frightened much of the time. If she knows you love her and want to protect her and be her closest friend; she will want no other man. No other man will be able to even interest her. But, she must be sure of you, very sure of you and your love," he said.

I listened and wondered. Could what he said be so? I had my doubts. But, then, I remembered an old saying, I think it was Voltaire: "No one can resist generosity forever." Maybe my situation with Diana could be seen that way. God knows I didn't like the idea of another man's penis inside of her or hands touching her. Was it possible to get by my feelings about it all? I was not at all sure. This was no mere mental images, no mere fantasy.

The subject changed, and we killed another half dozen bottles of yellow pepsi before we hit the hay.

It was some six months, after my leaving, before things changed. And, when they did, they changed in a big way.

******

Diana:

That last day with Weatherly was bad, very bad: jail, a criminal record, and the first days of my new life of poverty. It all came out, everything. Weatherly's wife was sure to divorce him and take him to the cleaners. Harris' wife at best would make his life a living hell.

Harris for his part was struggling to keep his business accounts. After Ritchie left, his company wasn't able to keep up with the demands made on it. He really did need Ritchie more than he needed me. I was just so much fluff, a diversion for rich men who were thinking only of themselves. Now, I had the unenviable task of trying to not be lonely while at the same time trying to make a living. And what a living! I was full time prostitute now and barely surviving. The house is in foreclosure. The other properties are also close to going back to the banks. Harris had helped me a lot, but his wife had finally put her foot down and now I was up against it.

I guess I really fucked up trying to do something for my husband while at the same time cheating on him. How do you spell idiot! But, I really, really, never thought that he would actually just up and leave me helpless and flapping in the wind. I don't know where he is, and I am desperate. I do hope he's all right. He deserves better than me for a wife. If I ever get a second chance, I will get down on my knees and thank my lucky stars.

Oh my, I do hope he comes back, even if it is only to let me beg his forgiveness.

The phone is ringing. A customer? Well, I do have to pay the bills.

"Hello?… Ritchie! Wha-wha-what!… Ritchie come home please. Please come home… oh okay… of yes-yes-yes… I'll be here." He's on his way.

******

She's home. She wants to see me. Well, the feeling is mutual. She sounded desperate too. Maybe-

It's strange after all these months sitting out here looking at that door. The last time I was here it ended badly.

I rapped on the door once. The door almost flew open.

"Hello, Diana," I said. She just stood there with those cow eyes, tears welling up in them.

"Come in, Ritchie," she said. I did and she fell against me sobbing like I have never seen a woman sob before. I had a fresh handkerchief in my pocket I pulled it and handed it to her. She took it and wiped away her tears. "Oh Ritchie, I have missed you so."

"I've missed you too, babe," I said. That started another round of sobbing. I led her into the living room. Nothing had changed that I could see. I eased her down on the couch and asked her to wait while I got us both something to drink. I just knew my stuff would still be in the bar in the den; it was.

I returned with two glasses of wine. I handed her her glass and sat next to her on the couch.

"How have you been, Diana?" I said, after taking a sip of the clear elixir.

The sobbing had subsided some and she was gathering herself to speak coherently for the first time. "Where have you been, my husband?" she said.

"Far far away," I said. "I needed time. I mean after…"

"Ritchie, I'll stop," she said. I'll never do it again,. Just don't leave me, okay?" Well, that told me a lot. Mainly that she was still doing it. I wondered if that was how she was making her bills. I hadn't left her much when I left.

"You're still fucking them, then," I said.

"I had to, Ritchie, I didn't have any money. I had to pay the bills, and they were a lot. Even so, I-we-are about to lose the house, I have thirteen more days before they kick me out," she said. "I'm already packing." She nodded toward some boxes in the corner across the room.

Now I felt guilty. It had been her infidelity that had caused me to leave her, but I had not really intended for her to lose everything. Or maybe I did, and I just didn't realize how traumatic it was going to be for her.

Juan was right; womankind was emotional and attached to things in ways that a man really could not completely comprehend except on an intellectual level. This woman, my woman, was terrified. Well, I could fix that. I'd fix it regardless of how the next twenty minutes turned out.

"You still seeing Crowley and Weatherly?" I said.

"Crowley, but not Weatherly, not since his wife kicked him out. Harris helped me with my bills, the rent on this house and the properties mainly; well, he did until Marie, his wife, put the boff on that. Now, I have to work…"

"You mean fuck for money," I said. She nodded. "Just to pay the bills?"

"Yes, sir," she said. "I don't want to, Ritchie. I want to stop. Will you come back and help me, Ritchie? I need you," she said. "Ritchie, what I said before is still true. I love you. I really, really do."

I took her in my arms and held her, and the sobbing began again. This woman was in dire straits emotionally.

Juan's parting words to me came to me now, "Don't pressure her. Guide her, love her, and give her some free rein; she'll come back to you."

"I'm back, Diana," I said. No more sobbing now. Now, she was wailing like a cat with its foot caught in the door! I just waited. The phone rang.

"You want me to get it?" I said. She was in no shape to talk to anybody. She nodded in the affirmative.

"Hello… yes… well I… " she was shaking her head no. "No… she says she's tied up tonight… okay… yes… she has your number?… okay." I hung up.

"One of your customers," I said.

"Patrick Armistead," she said. "We had a-date for tonight." I looked at her and slowly shook my head.

"Ritchie, I had no choice. Can you understand that? Please. It's not because I wanted to," she said.

"Ritchie, I know this maybe isn't the time, but I have to tell you something," she said. She stood rather suddenly from her place on the sofa. She began marching back and forth in front of me. I was confused. That she was anxious was clear.

"Ritchie, I'm-I'm pregnant; three months worth," she said. I could feel the blood drain from my face. The rubber broke and he-the man came inside me.

"Huh?" I said. I was totally lost.

"It's Crowley," she said. "I almost think he did it on purpose, but maybe not. I don't see how he could have."

I gathered myself. I didn't know whether to walk out or take her in my arms or-what. "Does he know?" I said.

"I told him last week," she said.

I wondered what Juan Diego Santana De Los Robles would have said about this. But, I thought I knew. "Treat her like the fragile emotional creature that she is," he'd said, and that more than once.

Here was a dilemma if ever there was one. My wife was an actual down and dirty whore, a prostitute, for money. Not enough? She'd used her-skills-to get me a promotion, which I deserved anyway. She'd tried to get me to be okay with it all. And now she was beginning the second trimester of a pregnancy courtesy of my ex-boss. Fucking wonderful! I think somewhere along the line I think I mentioned that my wife was not a military genius. What to do?

What I did now would be irrevocable. I could just silently up and leave, return to the Baja and start a new life, the one I had thought to have before talking to El Vidente. Or, I could take her in my arms and love her, as Juan had advised, albeit before there was a child in the mix.

"Wow," I said, almost too quietly to hear. "Does his wife know?"

"No. Well, I don't think so. He's supposed to come over tomorrow and discuss the situation," she said. "Ritchie, are you going to go now-or-stay?"

I'd been studying the floor. I looked up. I nodded, "I'm staying. Cancel all of your appointments with-your clients. I mean all of them. We'll talk about our sex lives soon, but not today. Today I have to think.

"But Harris is not coming over tomorrow. He's coming over tonight," I said. "He and I are going to talk. For the record, Diana, I'm in charge now; is that clear. I mean in charge of everything, even your sex life. Got it!" I said. She nodded vigorously. She evidently knew that she had zero to say in any of this if she wanted me around at all.

"Okay, then," I said.

"But, Ritchie, I can't call him; his wife will not let him come over. He's got a ball and chain around his neck that not even something this important can free him from," she said.

"Good point. I'll call him. We'll meet him at the Crossroads Bar and Grill instead of here. That oughta get him out of the house," I said.

"Okay," she said. I got up and made the call. I knew the number by heart; I'd called it often enough in times gone by.

Hanging up, I looked over at her. "He was reluctant, but he didn't have much choice. He'll meet us there in an hour."

"Ritchie?" she said, in a pleading voice.

"Yes?" I said.

"You're-you're not going to harm him are you?" she said.

"You care about that asshole don't you, Diana?' I said. "No, I'm not going to hurt him, but a few things are going to be settled, and that tonight.

"Ritchie, he and I did some bad things, but he did try to help me with the rent and stuff after…"

"Yeah, after I left," I said.

"We've got a little time. Can I prevail upon you to put together a little something for us to eat? I'm hungry," I said. She smiled.

"Absolutely," she said. Fifteen minutes later we were eating our tuna sandwiches and chasing them with iced teas. I felt better.

"You better change if you're going to. We only have half an hour to get to the Crossroads," I said.

******

The Crossroads was a country western bistro about equidistant between our house and the Crowley residence. It was a plebian sawdust joint sporting an ancient jukebox and live bands Friday and Saturday nights. The hardwood bar was actually antique: over a hundred years old and looked it. The bartender, Bruno Von Kleist, was a skilled drink maker and generally made it a nice place to hang. Bruno had the distinction, or so he claimed, of being related to the house of Hohenzollern and so was related, and that not distantly, to the last Kaiser of Germany. Whatever, he served Rye whiskey, which was sometimes hard to find around our town, but my favorite; so it was one watering hole that I'd liked to frequent in earlier days.

He was already seated at a table for four in the back of the bar area. We headed for him. He looked nervous; well, he should have been.

"Hello, Harris," I said, without emotion.

"Hello, Richard, good to see you again-I hope," he said.

"Relax, Harris. I'm not here to cause you grief per se. I am here to get some things straightened out.

"Oh, where are my manners. You know my wife, Diana, if I'm not mistaken? I mean in a biblical sense." I wasn't smiling. He nodded and looked down at his drink. We took our seats.

Diana looked more nervous, if possible, than Harris did. "Hello, Harris," she said.

"Well, now that's out of the way. May I ask, Harris, what are your intentions?" I said, not cutting him any slack.

"Huh?" he said.

"You've impregnated my wife. What are your intentions?" I said. "It's not rocket science."

"I-I-my wife-she… " He was miserable and, I thought, on the verge of tears. Helluva a heman. He might have a bigger dick than mine, as I'd heard from my cheating wife, but he had no balls.

"Diana, what would you expect from this lover of yours," I said. I was maintaining control. No way I was coming out the loser in this little tableau.

"Huh? I don't understand… " she said, seeming to lose her train of thought.

"Are you going to ask him for anything? I mean for the baby," I said.

"I don't-I don't-I don't think so. I mean-his wife-she's making it difficult. I mean he can't…"

"Hmm, well, I have some suggestions if I may," I said.

Harris looked awful. He was crying, silently. But, he nodded his understanding and tacit agreement that I should go on.

"Harris, I've kept tabs on you and your business since I left. I still have some friends in town that haven't yet fucked my wife," I said. I was thinking of Ron and Jack. "I'd estimate your minus maybe thirty percent from a year ago. That about right?" I said.

He looked startled. "Yes, but more like thirty-five percent. That's why I can't afford…"

"Shut up, Harris. I know you can't be handing out child support to Diana-the child support you absolutely owe her, and by inference me, for fucking her and getting her pregnant. But, you are going to pay," I said.

"But, I can't Ritchie. You may as well shoot me. My wife will if you don't," he said.

"I said to shut up," Harris. "If you don't I am going to fuck you and the wild-ass-of-Borneo that you saddled up to ride over here tonight. Am I clear?" I said.

"Yes, yes. I guess so," he said.

"You won't be paying, Diana. You'll be paying me. The means will be in my bi-weekly checks as your new old employee. I'm getting a promotion to VP with a salary commensurate with my new exalted status with the company," I said. I let my proposal hang in the air. Harris didn't seem to understand. But, Diana did.

"You're going to go back to work for him, Ritchie?" she said. Harris was beginning to come around to getting it. His face showed color for the first time since we'd walked into the place.

"Are you with me, Harris?" I said.

"Yes-yes. I agree. Anything, Ritchie. You name it, you got it. We-I've-needed you here. The business hasn't been the same since you left.

"Ritchie, I'm sorry," he said. "Diana, and I-I mean mainly me. I was an asshole. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know she liked what you did for her, and you undoubtedly liked what she did for you. I'm not an idiot. You and I will talk again about that, but not tonight. Tonight it's all about the baby.

"Your wife, does she know you've fucked around with Diana?" I said.

"Yes, now she does, but not about the baby," he said. I nodded.

"Okay, keep it that way. Except for the huge raise you're about to give me-contingent of course upon my bringing in more business-your interest in anything to do with the baby is history. Do we have a deal?" I said.

He looked at Diana. "Yes, if it's okay with Diana, I'm good to go," he said.

"It's okay with 'my' wife," I said, pointedly. "It's okay because I say it's okay. Got it!"

"Yes, yes, I got it," he said.

"Okay, today is Friday. I'll be starting again on Monday. Any questions?" I said.

"No," he said.

"Diana?" I said, looking at her.

"No sir," she said.

We talked about things other than the baby thereafter, mostly about my new position as vice president in charge of customer service and software integrity. It was clear that Harris knew that he had dodged a bullet. He tried to avoid looking directly at Diana, and it was obvious. I almost had to laugh outright at his pathetic efforts not to offend me.

Diana for her part had eyes only for me. I still had some reservations, and I still wasn't sure how I was going to handle the sexual thing. The advice from El Vidente kept coming back to me: "Stop worrying about her sexual needs and deeds and do your part; then, you won't have anything to worry about," he'd said. I was still trying to get a handle on those words.

******

We drove home in silence. Diana, had dressed nicely for our little date with Harris. The confab had gone well, and about as I'd expected it would, so, for the moment, I was satisfied.

"You seem calmer than earlier," I said, stating the obvious. "Maybe even a little bit pensive."

"I am. Can I ask you a question, Ritchie?" she said.

"Of course," I said.

"Do you still love me?" she said. "She was being very-intense."

"Yes. If I didn't I wouldn't be here planning on raising someone else's baby," I said. She smiled and went back to being pensive.

She went into the house as I put the car in the garage. Entering the living room from the garage, I found her standing behind the couch naked from the waist down. She was hugely beautiful.

"Cat got your tongue mister," she said. She was smiling broadly at my tongue-hanging-out state.

"Uh…"

"Take me from behind. Take me now," she said. I stripped so fast that I tripped and fell into the couch. My wife giggled.

"Control yourself, my husband, I need you to at least scratch my itch first before you injure yourself. Okay?" she said, smirking.

For some reason her lack of sympathy for me pissed me off. I got off the couch and came around to the back where she was. "That's gonna cost yuh, dearie," I said.

"Promises, promises," she said. I forced her head down and kicked her legs wide. She didn't resist. I knelt behind her and surveyed the territory.

"Your wet," I said. "Good." I licked her slit up and down and took her clit into my mouth, torturing it lovingly, if that's even possible.

I stood, spread her cheeks and buried a finger in her ass. At the same time, I poked at her pussy with my cock. She grunted, but didn't complain as I pushed in all of the way in one cruel thrust. My luck, she was still tight enough to feel me; it was good. I slowly pushed my finger in and out of her ass as I pumped back and forth into her pussy for several minutes. Just as I let go of my load she shuddered and growled; she'd cum at the same time I had. Well, sometimes one can get lucky.

I fell forward onto her back totally wasted. After a minute or two I straightened up. I pulled her up to me. I kissed her. It occurred to me that except for the initial greeting when I'd surprised her at the door, that I hadn't kissed her. She tasted so good to me. God she was a good kisser.

We headed for the bedroom and got reacquainted with each other-in a biblical sense.

*******

The next morning I awoke to the smell of coffee. She was already at work in the kitchen. I showered, dressed, and headed down to join her. I was feeling good.

"Morning, sleepy head," she said, as I entered and plopped myself down at the table. It was kinda strange, but I was falling back into my-our-old routine. It was if I had never left. I would be taking this woman of mine to the Baja before long. But, other things had to be settled first.

"How are you feeling this morning?" I said. "Any morning sickness?"

"Not today, but I have had it some lately," she said. I nodded my understanding. "We need to talk," I said.

"I'm done with my whorish ways, Ritchie. You don't have to worry about that," she said. I looked at her not saying anything. This had to go down like I'd planned or we'd have some big assed problems in short order.

She misread my silence. "Ritchie, I mean it. I won't betray you again. I promise," she said.

"You gonna miss it?" I said. "I mean. You gonna miss having all of those cocks do you? I need the truth."

She looked at me strangely. "It doesn't matter whether I will miss them or not. I'm promising you, no other cock will be inside of me again," she said.

"That does not answer my question," I said.

"Ritchie, yes, I will miss it-them-but not that much. And, you'll be there for me, to get me off. It's all I need. Okay!" she said a little testily.

"A wise man advised me to let you have your extracurricular fun," I said. "I've decided to let you. But, there will be conditions. Are you with me?" I said.

"Huh? What? Huh?" she said.

"Are you with me?" I said.

"Uh-I think so-no-yes-I don't know," she said.

"You will have to be selective, and I might want to be included in some way at some point," I said. "Oh, and no one is to know I'm okay with it unless I say it's okay. Got it," I said. She just nodded. She looked like she was in a trance.

"And, no money will ever again change hands. Prostitution is out. Whatever we do to spice up our sex lives will be for us, and it will never be a business. I know you felt you had to do it these past months to survive. I blame myself to some extent for that, but only to some extent. I guess you can figure out why," I said.

"Can I ask a question?" she said.

"Sure," I said. I was feeling generous-and sensuous.

She seemed unsure. Even with my permission. She seemed unsure. "Well," I said.

"No, never mind," she said. "I am not going to throw any monkey wrenches into this mix. We'll go with what you say and nothing else," she said.

"No, say it," I said. "You've gone this far, Just spill it."

"Okay," she said softly. "Can-could-Harris still fuck me?"

I know my face darkened. She began to take fright; I could smell it. "Okay, but what about his wife? And why him necessarily?" I said.

"Ritchie, don't take this the wrong way. But-he does it for me. He's, well, he's big, and he reaches places that…"

"Okay, okay. I get it. He's bigger than me. You already told me that?' I said.

She began to shake a little. I think she was starting to cry. "It's okay. Some cocks are going to be bigger than mine, some not. I know that. My ego isn't that fragile.

"But, Diana. Never behind my back. Never!" I said.

Breakfast over, we headed back upstairs for what turned out to be a marathon of lick, suck, and fuck session. I guess I had been hornier than I'd thought having been a virgin for all of those months.

******

Monday came soon enough and I was actually anxious to get back at it. My secretary, Jean, was there for me. I still had her at my specific behest. Jean was loyal and able; there wasn't anything else as far as I was concerned. The good news for her was the fact that since I was promoted her salary was significantly upgraded. The two of us spent most of the first day on the phone. By day's end Crowley was one happy camper, and wasn't that a weird deal.

It was clear that Harris was pleased to have me back, even at the outrageous salary that I had demanded. But, he was standoffish and nervous whenever I was around, no doubt because of his history of betrayal. Talk about a rock and hard place, at least from his pint of view; I almost felt sorry for him.

By the end of the week, we had both begun to relax. It was then that he laid something on me that changed a lot of things.

"Thanks for coming by, Richard. I have wanted to talk to you all week long, but, well, it was a little uncomfortable, if you know what I mean," he said.

"I know exactly what you mean, Harris. But this is business and we need to work together to make a go of it in this economy, especially," I said.

"True, but what I wanted to talk about is personal, if that's all right," he said. I nodded for him to go ahead.

"Well, to make a long story short, my wife is divorcing me. It seems she has a boyfriend now. Kind of ironic wouldn't you say," he said.

I think I just stared at him. "Really." I said, finally. An idea was already forming in my head. "No chance of saving the marriage?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Doesn't look like it," he said.

"Well, sorry to hear that. But, why are you telling me?" I asked.

"Well, the reason she has a boyfriend is that I was-well-you know with Diana. It's a revenge thing. I think she plans on raping me in the divorce. That could cost me the company, and put the boff on my deal with you and Diana," he said.

"I see," I said. "Set up a meeting with her for me. I want to talk to her. I think maybe I can convince her to take a different tack."

He looked at me like I was mad. "You would help me after…"

"Yes, I'll help you. It's in my self-interest," I said.

We talked for a little while more and he promised to try and make what I'd asked for happen.

******

"Ah the famous-or should I say the infamous Ritchie," said Marie Crowley.

I snickered, "I guess," I said. Your husband tells me you've got a boyfriend. Serious?"

"Hell no. I don't trust men anymore. Not even you, Ritchie, and you're a victim same as me in all of this. Question?" she said. I motioned for her to go on.

"Why are you working for the asshole that made a cuckold out of you?" she said. I sighed.

"It's a long and complicated story, but mainly because of some advice-good advice-gotten from a friend. Nursing a personal hatred toward one who I love more than anything, and getting ulcers in the bargain, is not my cup of tea," I said.

"Interesting," she said. "Maybe I could learn to trust you, Ritchie."

"Can I make a suggestion? I mean it is in my own self-interest, but you'll be a whole lot better off if I can get you to go along," I said.

"What?" she said.

"Instead of raping him in your divorce, have him make you a partner in the company. Financially, you'll be a lot better off than if he goes belly up," I said. "If that were to happen, he and I would have to start a new company, and I am not thrilled with the specter of having to begin at the bottom all over again."

"Partner?" she said.

"Yes, and you'd be the kind that just reaps the profits and has nothing to do with operations," I said. She looked at me for a long time considering-I thought-my words.

Marie Crowley did file, but took my advice and became a twenty-five percent owner of the company rather than screwing over her soon to be ex. That along with her freedom was more than enough. He lawyer agreed that in the long run she'd be a lot better off if the company remained solvent and operating at the pace that was currently the case.

Two weeks after the Crowley divorce was final I got a call at work from my wife. She'd had some dates, maybe once a month during the six months that it took for the Crowley divorce to run its course. But tonight was different.

******

"Hi honey. Honey, I have a visitor today. You know, like we talked about last Saturday. I… " She was nervous, so I jumped in and eased her mind.

"Okay, no problem. From your tone of voice-well-is it who I think it is?" I said.

"Yes."

"Okay, you know the rules: not our room, and nothing will be said unless I say it's okay," I said.

"Absolutely," she said.

"Okay, have a good time. Uh-oh-what time should I be home?" I said. I did not want to walk in on her and my boss if I got home early. I considered that I might want to watch at some point in the future, but now was not that time.

"Maybe 9:30. Would that be all right?" she said.

"That's fine. I might be late though, I'm not sure," I said. I was smiling like a possum. I made a call.

"Hi," I said. "You free tonight?"

The drive to the Crowley residence was an easy twenty-five minutes. She met me at the door dressed smartly. "Ready to go?" I asked.

"Damn straight," I said. She smiled and we were out of there.

"I can't get over that you are okay with my husband screwing your woman," said Marie, as we drove out on what was our third date.

"I'm a pragmatist, Mrs. Crowley, whatever works is the way to go for me. She likes variety, and I have discovered over these past few weeks that I do too," I said.

"You told her yet, I mean that you're playing on the side while she gets her-uh-needs met," said Marie.

"No, she'll find out at some point, but I'm not concerned about it. I'm gonna get mine if she's gonna get hers and that the long and the short of it," I said.

"You plan on informing your ex any time in the near future?" I said.

"No, same as you. When he finds out, he finds out that's all. He has no claim on me anymore. Besides, I don't want to have all of this affect your job. I'm part owner now, and I want my best employee to be worry free when it comes to business," she said.

"It won't affect my job. Me dating you has nothing to do with him now," I said.

I pulled into the Castle Rock Bar and Grill, and we went inside. The wine was good, the food was good, the company was excellent, and she was a helluva dancer. It was going to be a good night. Looked like I was probably gonna be late getting home too.

-----------------------------

   Series:The Tortoise and the Hare
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Sloth, to this hubby, was definitely a virtue.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/63617/the-tortoise-and-the-hare
Published:2010-04-04
Aesop's amphibian had nothing on me speed-wise. I can go as slow as he ever could. My problem, as one might imagine, is catching up with the hare. Unlike the unconcerned tortoise, I'm concerned. I'm concerned about the hare that's hitting on my wife early and often. As far as fast operators are concerned, he's one helluva rabbit! Me? Not.

A lot of times I'm not near focused enough, and, like I say, sure as hell not quick enough to beat the damn rabbit at his own game, so I have to resort to other means to come out on top, like patience, painful long-suffering patience. Well, they say all's fair in love and war, and this is definitely war! But for some damn reason, I can't seem to get overly excited about it. I know I should be getting excited, but I just can't seem to get the knack of it. Hey, it's my nature.

Garland Wakefield, is not merely always the runner up; he's always, well virtually always, dead last-in everything! And who's Garland Wakefield? Well that's me. Not exactly stupid, not really handsome, not especially talented, not big, and he is not possessed of large scale manliness if you get my meaning; but, I have one characteristic that over the years has more or less made up for my myriad mediocrities: I never, but I mean but never, give up! I'm tempted to at times; I am human, but so far, when it has come to anything meaningful, I haven't.

I work as a short haul delivery driver for a West Madison Building Materials: mostly rock and sand; it pays okay, and I get the usual union benefits.

At any rate, knock me down a hundred times and I'll get up one hundred and one times and beat the loving fuck outta your gasping-for-air ass even if it kills me in the end. That particular characteristic did get me a pass from most of my would be tormentors in my youth, and the same could be said of me and my would be tormentors, at my age fifty, today. Well, except for one of them: my wife Annette.

Annette is a nice looking redhead of forty-three. She's never worked a day in her life until about a year ago when she got a job checking groceries at the B&B supermarket: said she needed to do something with her free time; I'd made no objection, and then it had begun.

Annette's lover? It's Patrick Brand, a tall good looking asshole who has made me, along with the connivance of my wife-until today-an unknowing cuckold. But, now I know. How do I know? Well that's an interesting tale. Just hang in there with me for a little bit, and I shall explain. Anyway, now I have decisions to make.

Dear Patrick is a grocery store owner, the owner of B&B supermarket; how fucking convenient. Mister Brand, too, has a penchant for fucking anything female that's still breathing. In times gone by, he'd been correspondent in at least two divorces that I know of, those apart from his own I should mention; they, the stories of the divorces, had made the papers. Oh, and Patrick's married-again-third time I think. His wife, Gerrie Brand, is a sweet but mousy little thing, afraid of her own shadow. But, that fact might at some point be made to work for me; we'd be seeing about that. We know Gerrie and the asshole from church, First Methodist. Helluva thing huh.

Okay, how do I know I've been made a cuckold? Well, my wonderful spouse told me; that's how. You can imagine my chagrin; when she, Annette, laid it on me, I was floored. Married twenty-five years and now this. Oh, she says she loves me, doesn't want a divorce, hopes I'll understand; it's just sex, she says. What the fuck does that mean, please tell me. Oh yeah, I have decisions to make. Mister Brand will eventually find himself having to dislodge a size seven-and-a-half suppository from his no doubt virgin anus if I can work it!

"Garland, calm down, okay. It's not the end of the world. You'll still get sex whenever you want it. Just calm down. Try to understand, okay." She was really trying to sell me on the idea that what she was telling me was no big deal. Well, it was a helluva big deal to me for fucking damn sure.

"Calm down, Annette! I'll calm down all right. You don't have to worry about me. For the record what about his wife. Is he going to do for her what you've just done for me?" I said.

"Huh? What?" she said.

"You know be good enough to tell her so she won't feel that he is sneaking around on her," I said.

"Anyway, just leave me alone. I really don't want to deal with you right now. I'll be sleeping down here tonight; I'd feel funny sleeping next to you now I know what you think of me," I said.

I wasn't actually bitter, but I was plenty pissed. Still, slow, go slow, I reminded myself, just go slow. I didn't want to actually lose the numbskull I'm married to. Yes, yes I fully understand that she's cheating, and biggee though it is, it really isn't that all fired a monster of a deal, not to me. Everybody has does dumb things. But, it does have to end. And, there will be punishment, as there always must be when someone transgresses. I guess what I mean is, that unless somebody dies, almost anything can be straightened out and forgiven, even a lapse in one or another's wedding vows. At any rate, the two of them will fuck up soon enough, and I will exact appropriate retribution. They were messing with the wrong cat. I just had to collect all of the rat shit that I could to mess them up when the time came.

The downstairs guest room had one advantage: it would be easy to mark her comings and goings, at least at night.

"Garland, you don't have to do sleep down here. Come to bed with me. I'll make you know that you're still my husband and lover," she said, smiling benevolently at me.

"You mean your husband and 'one' of your lovers, don't you, Annette?" I said.

"Garland, don't be like that. I told you about Patrick so that you would know that I'm not hiding anything from you. I couldn't do that to you anymore," she said. "I love you too much for that."

"Damn nice of you, Annette. How long Annette? And why, if I might ask?" I said.

"It was at the church bazaar last year. You wouldn't go with me, and I was pretty upset about you breaking your promise to go with me. I was the chairperson of the event for goodnesssakes, but I couldn't even get my husband to support me. I was hurt and vulnerable," she said.

"A church event? You chose a church event to fuck me over! How blee-bloody fucked up is that!" I snarled at her. I take back what I said before; I am bitter, bitter as can be.

I stood up and looked down at her. "Continue to do this and we're done, you and me, and not on a friendly basis. Hell, the fact is we may already be done," I said. "And as far as dear 'ole Patrick is concerned. You tell him he best be leaving town: he doesn't want to be running into me by accident," I said.

She actually smiled at that. "Garland, don't do anything, you know, like that. I don't want you to get hurt. Patrick is a very big guy. All of that macho stuff is nonsense anyway. I couldn't forgive myself if he hurt you," she said.

"Oh, but you can forgive yourself for cuckolding me and making a public laughingstock out of me! Have I got that right?" I said.

"Garland, you are not a laughingstock nor are you a cuckold or anything like that. I'm just having a little fling and it'll be over soon enough, and then we'll just forget about it and things will be fine. And, they're fine now Garland. I deny you nothing. I don't let it, our playtime, interfere with our lives, yours and mine. It's just something on the side apart from us, not part of us, of you and me. Okay? Do you understand?" she said.

She stood and came to me. She put her arms around me. Mine hung at my sides. "There, I know you can see that this is nothing to us," she said. She leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my face away from her. "Garland!"

I turned and headed down the hall to the spare bedroom. I plopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. I would go slow, but I would not be idle. Let dear Mr. Brand run with her for a while; I couldn't stop him, them, but there would come a time. I would let him think he had a clear field, believe he was far ahead, that his cuckold was a coward, a wimp, impotent. I wasn't any of those things, I knew; but I was slow, slow and deliberate. The time would come when the error of his thinking would be clear to him. I knew too, that I would be thinking of little else over the next days.

Some things she'd said kinda rankled. "He's a big guy, Garland… I don't want you to get hurt… she couldn't forgive herself if… " Yadda, yadda, yadda. Yeah, right, if I got a whippin', she'd be all weepy and upset with her boyfriend. My expressing my conviction that she should warn his boyfriendness to steer clear of me and her reaction had actually brought a smile to her face. Well, there was damn good reason for me to paint a smile on my face.

It'd been some years ago, but I was state golden gloves welterweight champion back in the day, something my wife either forgot or didn't think important enough to worry her or her mister Brand. I still worked out three times a week at Harold's Hole: the local gym for wannabes from the old neighborhood. Thinking about it, I realized my wife never came to the gym anymore. The first few times after we were married she did, but she said it was too stinky in the gym; she never returned. Footspeed? Much reduced. Hand speed, not at all. Mr. Brand really would be well advised to step aside if we should pass each other on the sidewalk. There was damn little doubt that he'd be goin' down. Hell, I'd beat him like a cur dog and piss on his prostrate and comatose form to punctuate the slaughter.

Some may wonder why I didn't just go up to dear 'ole Patrick and crush his no doubt smirking ass. I could do that. Then, I'd without a doubt end up in jail and get raped in the divorce. And, quite apart from any of that, my crushing mister Brand would not stop my wife from cheating; it would at best only delay it or slow it down a little. No, I needed to take my time. I had two goals: end her need for assholes like Brand, and get myself back as her one and only true life and love. Like I said, I really do love the stupid broad. Hell, adultery ain't near as bad as voting Republican, and so far she hasn't done the latter.

During those next days I didn't walk out, and I didn't make a big fuss over it all with Annette though my attitude and looks must have been a clue to her, or should have been. She acted-what-patient, I guess. She was condescending to allow me time to come to grips with her intentions and to adjust to them. On a number of occasions over the next few days, she even came on to me. I brushed her off, gently, but firmly. She just smiled and went about her business. I guess she'd decided that she could wait me out. She well understood that I had a very active libido. She believed that at some point, my dick would betray me into her arms. She was going to have a long wait.

About a week after she'd laid it all out for me; she sat me down for another little talk. "Garland, I won't be home till late tonight," She said. "Please don't worry, okay?" I felt my eyes narrow, but I remained silent. I just sat there waiting for her to either get up and leave or say something else. This time I was waiting her out.

"Garland? Are you all right? It's nothing for you to worry about, really. Just a little diversion for me. Maybe tomorrow you'll be in the mood for some fun too," she said. I slowly shook my head from side to side. I thought I noticed a trace of concern in her look, but maybe not. She was certainly sure of herself.

"Okay, Garland, if you won't talk to me. I'm sorry you can't seem to understand that I am trying to make this easy for us. I really am. I love you, but I have needs, and I intend to try and fulfill them, Garland. Just believe me when I say that none of it is intended to hurt you or to make you a laughingstock or a cuckold or any of that silliness," she said.

The "D" word had not been mentioned by me. I still didn't really want to lose her in spite of her betrayal. Yeah, and I know, the "burn the bitch" crew will have a ton of trouble getting their heads around that; but that's just too damn bad.

Call me pussywhipped; I can live with the title; it's just a word. And on the practical side, another reason that I was not into getting a divorce, as I've mentioned earlier on, was the economics. I didn't want to pay for my own screwing by the legal establishment. Still, that was only secondary.

She returned late, after 3:00AM. She slipped into bed beside me, I was still sleeping in the spare bedroom of course; she'd evidently decided that it would be a good idea to join me and to try and snuggle up to me. "No," I said. I heard a muffled sigh, but she slid over to the other side of the bed and I suppose slept. I was more or less surprised that she didn't go back to the master bedroom; it's where all of her stuff was.

I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs. I showered, dressed, and into the kitchen.

In the kitchen I poured myself a cup of coffee. She kept glancing in my direction as she set the table and put the food out for us. I watched her sit down and pick up a piece of toast to butter.

"Sit down, Garland, and eat," she said.

"Oh, I thought the meal was for your lover," I said. I know, I was being sarcastic; I couldn't help it.

"Garland, please don't be that way. Please," she said.

I put the empty cup into the sink. Took one last look at her, and headed out. "Garland, where are you going? You have to eat. I cooked you breakfast!" she said. I ignored her.

I spent the day checking out cheap apartments. I wanted a place to land in case the shit finally hit the fan and I had no choice but to leave. I wasn't sure if it would actually happen, or if so when it would happen. I just wanted to be ready.

When I got home that night, she was waiting for me. She didn't even mention my walking out on her that morning. "Hi Garland, tonight's our night out," she said. She was smiling to beat the band.

"Our night out," I said.

"Yes, you're taking me dancing. Maybe a little dinner out first if you're hungry," she said. "Okay?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm too tired. I'll just cook me up something from the freezer," I said.

"Huh? You don't want to take me dancing! Garland, you have to get over this snit you're in. I've told you a hundred times that you're my main man. Not anyone else. You need to be my husband and take me dancing and fuck me when we get home and all of the rest of it," she said. She was really putting on the full court press.

"No," I said.

"What?" she said.

"I am not willing to be your 'main' man. I am either your only man or I'm nothing. And, I guess the way you're playing it, I'm nothing," I said. I headed for the kitchen.

She stormed out the room talking to herself. She headed upstairs. I was already dining on a frozen burrito-yes, yes, I microwaved it first-when she came down. She was dressed to the nines. I had to admit it; she looked real good. Especially in the black mini-dress she knew was my favorite. I said so. "You look really great. He'll love it I'm sure," I said.

She ignored my words. "Last chance," she said. I smiled, okay it was a weak smile at best, but I did smile, and shrugged. She turned on her heels-they were four inchers-and headed out.

For the next six weeks, two times each week, Friday and Saturday nights, I got the same question: "Are you taking me dining and dancing, or do I have to have someone else take me? Your choice," she said. I did what I had decided I was always going to do under the circumstances: I smiled and kept silent. Things would soon be coming to a head and it would be over one way or the other, at least I kept telling myself that.

"Your hubby softening his stance any yet?" said Patrick. "It's been months now since you laid it on him."

"No, he's really dug in his heels. I don't know, maybe I was rash trying to get him to come to terms with it all. He's just not a sharing kind of guy when it comes to me. I guess I kinda love him for that, even if he is being an unreasonable asshole," said Annette.

"Well, I can't say I'm feeling any kind of sorry for him. I love it. I mean you and I getting to go out whenever we want and doing whatever we want," said Patrick.

"I don't know, Patrick. I'm thinking of cutting back some. It's like we've been rubbing his nose in it. I know he's hurt. Maybe hurt bad, you know, inside. The more I think about it the more I think I need to take a break and give him time to cool off. I don't know. I just don't know," said Annette.

"Hey, you got me to think about too, you know. I'm the one who's only is getting half a loaf here," he said.

"Yeah, well, I am married to the guy. Or, have you forgotten that little fact," she said.

"No, I haven't forgotten. I just wish it was you and me that was married. I know how to treat a woman of your quality," said Patrick. She smiled up at him and kissed him. Neither of them noticed the man at a table no more than fifteen feet from them snapping pictures. Well, private detectives were supposed to be good at covert surveillance-and photography.

I was up watching a rerun of the Bama-LSU gridiron rivalry when she got home from her latest date. She was early; it was only 9:00PM. I looked at her, but said nothing.

"You in a talking mood?" she said. I was curious. This was the first weekend evening that she'd gotten in before midnight in a long time.

"Whatsamatter, Patrick sick or somethin'?" I said. She ignored my remark.

"I asked if we could talk," she said.

"I guess," I said. She put down her coat and purse and started pacing back and forth. I had the feeling that she had prepared a speech but wasn't sure how to start.

"I shouldn't have been so hard on you," she said. I raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything right away. "I know I hurt you, and I am very-very sorry. It's just-well-just a craving I have, and I have almost no control over it. Can you understand that?"

"Not really," I said. "Either you love me enough to be my wife-my faithful wife-or you don't. That's the way I see it."

"I do love you, Garland. I have never loved anyone else. Not ever," she said. "And, I have to say, having thought about it, that I don't know why you haven't kicked my ass to the proverbial curb. You must have the patience of Job."

"A tortoise," I said.

"Huh?"

"A tortoise. Never mind. You say you love me, but apparently not enough to be my faithful wife," I said. She looked down.

"What if-what if I were to turn over a new leaf?" she said. I narrowed my eyes and waited on her. "What if I was to be your faithful wife? I mean faithful forevermore?"

"You mean give up your lover?" I said. "Give up Mr. Patrick Brand?"

"Yes," she said. I sagged back into the couch.

"How do I know you'd keep your word?" I said.

"I don't know, Garland, I'm just telling you that I would be a faithful wife and never have another liaison again," she said.

"Well, I guess we'd be seein' then, wouldn't we," I said. I had to wonder what motivated the one-eighty that my wife was apparently suggesting.

Sloth may be the devil's plaything, but, when it comes to avoiding rash judgments, it becomes like the right choice.

Tomorrow I would be making a call.

"Can we try?" she said. I nodded.

"Don't play me, Annette. If you think I won't find out if you double me up; then, you're way off base."

"I won't go back on my word, Garland. I wish I could make you see that me playing isn't any big deal, but I love you too much to risk us breaking up over Patrick Brand, or any other man. Please forgive me, my husband, and take me upstairs and screw me like you never screwed me before," she said.

She was disrobing as she climbed the stairs. When the panties went, and her naked ass and the dark crease that separated her buns came into view; I lost it. I rushed to carry her into the room and literally tossed her onto the bed. I was so horny after so long a drought that I stayed hard even after I'd fucked her the first time-missionary. I took her twice more before the night was through: doggie the second time, and reverse cowgirl for the finale. I ate her pussy each time and felt wonderful afterwards, and she sucked my cock to near panic soreness after each performance. I wrapped my arms around her tightly as we went to sleep. I was hoping against all hope and logic that my efforts to save us had not been in vain. Did I trust her? No. Did I think I could save the marriage?" It was 70-30 yes. Well, I am a glass-half-fuller.

Two days later I was sitting at the bar when I saw him come in. I waved him over. "How yuh doin' Jacob," I said.

He tendered me a half-hearted smile. "Okay, I guess," he said.

"Garland, I think she loves you, but I don't think she's gonna give up the guy. I was sittin' right over there, maybe ten or twelve feet away from them. I heard it all." Talk about a catch-22, I thought. She loved me but still planned to do me wrong.

"Did you get it recorded?" I said.

"Yeah, and the pictures you wanted too," he said. I shook my head slowly from side to side.

"I kinda figured that you had," I said. "Just the other night she tried to sell me that she was willing to stop her cheating and be faithful. I'd agreed to give her a chance, knowing full well that she might be sandbaggin' me. We actually had sex for the first time in forever; kind of a celebration of her getting her act together. I guess that in my heart I knew she was way too far up the creek to swim back." He shoved the big manila envelope over to me.

"The audio's in there. That's the thing. The pics are just of the two of them sitting at the table, nothing too bad about what they were doin', Garland, but what they were sayin' was not too good," said Jacob.

For the next several weeks things went more or less smoothly around the house. In spite of the recordings, and the kiss that Jacob had captured on film, I was interested to see if there wasn't still some way to save my marriage. We had sex on occasion, but she wasn't pushing it. She had enough sense to realize that I was still pretty steamed.

Dear 'ole Patrick had been thrilled to take her dining and dancing, since I wouldn't, but Patrick had not had to actually live with her and wake up beside her and listen to her talk and all of it. All he had to deal with was the glamour stuff, the fun stuff. He'd had a clear field since I had refused to have anything social to do with my wife if I'd had to share her.

Now, the tables were turned, at least for the moment. I waited to see if there would be a "noticeable" chink in the promises she'd made to me. The chink came on a Friday night some seven weeks after her professed one-eighty.

Her call had informed me that she would be late from work. She didn't really say why, but she must have known what I would think. Evidently, her promise was one of those she just couldn't keep.

I had kind of expected it: her eventually breaking her promise and screwing me over. She'd been acting real funny for the past few days. Still, I knew, but I didn't really know, that is, until I found the evidence that I knew proved my suspicions right.

The morning after her late night was a Saturday. I'd been putting away some clothes that had been left in the dryer and had found her condom supply in her drawer. My heart took a real blow with that one. But, I had a solution; it was time for the tortoise to strike for the finish line. A straight pin pretty much guaranteed the ineffectiveness of the protection she was depending on. I smiled at my own genius.

I had wanted to save the marriage, at almost any cost, but her refusal to keep her sworn word was the final straw. I wondered if she'd be getting an abortion, a good church going girl like her, I mean if he got her preggers.

The next week, same thing. She'd come in late, again, like she said she would, again It was 2:00AM. She saw I was awake on the couch watching an old movie: Humphrey Bogart. I didn't say anything at first. Go slow, was still my modus operandi. "Have fun?" I said.

"Garland, nothing happened. I-we-just went to dinner and a show," she lied. I looked at the clock and smiled. She noticed and didn't smile.

"Hmm, and dinner and a show is the same thing as nothing happening?" I said. Sarcasm was becoming easy for me.

"Really nothing happened. We just got to talking afterwards, you know, over coffee; and we didn't realize the time," she said.

"Uh huh," I said. She just shook her head and went up to bed. It was interesting that she took a shower first. God she was an easy read. I hoped for her sake that she never took up poker.

By morning she was thinking a little more analytically and decided to tell me the truth that I already knew, and that she knew I already knew.

"Garland, okay, I did have a date last night, and we did-well-we did," she said.

"I know," I said. She just nodded.

"I couldn't help myself," she said. "It had been so long. I needed…"

"Yeah, yeah, more than I could give you. I know," I said.

"Are you angry?" she said. I just looked at her. I didn't say word one. Time would tell. It was in the hands of the gods.

She began muttering things, I was only half listening. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to break my promise… I really do love… " On and on and on she droned.

I got up after about thirty minutes of her harangue and went out. I had to think.

The next day, I rose before she did. I made the coffee and waited. She came down about an hour later. She looked scared. I took some solace from that. I had decided to break with character and move in a different direction.

She was sipping her coffee. Neither of us had said anything up to that point. I did now.

"I'll be moving out today. You and I-well-I'd hoped we could salvage something of this marriage, but clearly that's not possible," I said.

"Garland, no! Please don't leave me. I don't know what I'd do without you. Please!" she pleaded. I had a smartass retort already for her, but I held myself in check.

"You'll think of something, Annette. You'll think of something, or Patrick will. Have a nice life."

She made some more noises, but I was already on my way up the stairs to pack. It was sad in some ways, but I guess inevitable. I still had to deal with the situation, and I did intend to come out on top, to cross the finish line first. I wouldn't stop until I did.

Because of my having checked out places earlier on, I found another place in short order. I moved in and set up housekeeping. Things went along fairly smoothly for a while. I got calls at work and on my cell maybe every other day asking me to come back, I took them, but I kept telling her that it was over. She was nothing if not tenacious. It was about six weeks later that I got wind of a situation.

She called me and just cried over the phone. She didn't say any meaningful words, really, mentioned my name a few times, I guess; she just cried. I kinda figured that I knew what it meant.

She came unannounced to my place of work the next day. I was monitoring the loading of hollow block I had to deliver to a work site.

"Garland, I'm pregnant," she said.

"Really," I said. "You should have taken precautions, Annette."

"Garland, I did. We used condoms. We always did. I guess one of them failed," she said.

"I guess so," I said. I found it interesting that she knew for a fact that the baby wasn't mine, even though up till about six weeks before we had had unprotected sex; but, she knew it was his. Interesting.

"Garland, what am I going to do!" she whined.

"Are you serious, Annette? What about the father. Do you know for a fact who it is?" Okay, I was being cruel.

"Garland! Of course I know," she cried.

"Well tell him," I said. She sobbed even louder than she already was.

"I did! He said it wasn't his. He said I was setting him up. But it is his, and I didn't set him up," she said.

"Remember what I'm about to say, Annette. It should help. Okay?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"D-N-A," I said. She looked at me like I didn't get it.

"Garland, I know that. What I mean is that he refuses to be a daddy, a part of the child's life. He accused me of setting him up, understand? Garland all I was to him was an easy piece of ass. Garland, my baby needs a daddy," she said. I wanted to laugh. But, she was so pathetic standing there looking at me. Her eyes held a message that was so forlorn. Okay, so I was moved to sympathy; it's who I am.

I looked within myself. I was in love with her. I always had been. I'd been patient, slow. Hell, patient, I'd been "more" patient than Job, and that with half the reason. Why? Because I knew she didn't know what she was doing.

Annette just wasn't smart enough to see that what she was doing would eventually lead to a bad result. I smiled inwardly, I don't know why, but I kept thinking of all of those Miss Universe contestants and the idiotic answers they give to the questions that are asked at the end of those contests. It almost seemed as if great beauty was compensated for by weak minds. And, yes, there was the fact that I was the one who had sabotaged her condom supply; in a sense it was my fault, not her cheating of course, but the pregnancy.

I took her in my arms. Tonight was going to be a very interesting time for me-us.

Mister Patrick Brand had turned out to be a real user. He was about to become a real loser. The rabbit was about to be left in the dust holding his dick; that'll teach him to masturbate while he is competing with an amphibian like me, I thought.

"First off, Annette, you want my help. If I decide to hang in here and help you raise your baby, some things are going to be changing. You got any problem with that?" I said.

"No, sir, I'll do anything, Garland, anything!" she said."And, not just because I'm desperate either."

"Okay, then." I said.

The first thing on my list was a contract that my lawyer had written up at my behest some time before. Essentially it laid out the penalty she'd be paying if she ever pulled anything like her affair with Brand ever again. She'd be out on her ass with zilch and the kid, if I should so choose, would be in my custody.

Secondly, she was going to help me utterly destroy Mr. Brand. Step one in that campaign would be to have a sit down with the wife. That is something I had been considering for a long time, now we had come full circle; Mr. Brand was about to be inundated by a sea of dark brown shit.

I figured if Mr. Brand would cheat on his wife, and that on a wholesale level, that he would cheat in other ways. Maybe he'd even have the brass balls to cheat on his income tax. I would be sitting down with Mr. Brand's wife right shortly. I had the evidence, and she had the reason, to take care of his cheating ass. I made the call.

The little woman-literally-sitting across from me looked frightened, and I hadn't even said anything apart from words of greeting.

She passed me the saucer with the half filled teacup on it.

"Missus Brand, as I indicated on the phone I have a rather important matter to discuss with you today," I said.

"Yes, mister Wakefield?" she said.

"Missus Brand, your husband Patrick is cheating on the both of us with my wife. And now, if I needed any further proof; he's gotten her pregnant. To say that I am beside myself with upset does not even begin to cover things," I said.

"Mister Wa-Wakefield…!" She was suddenly alert and stuttering.

For the next fifteen minutes we were back and forth over the shenanigans of the two lovers. Missus Brand for her part vacillated from disbelief to anger to upset to determination to do something about it.

"Missus Brand, so we're agreed," I said. "We will use the same lawyer, and all of my information will be made available to you for your purposes. Additionally, my wife has guaranteed that she will testify for you if need be."

"Yes, I definitely agree, Mr. Wakefield. But…"

"Yes?" I said.

"What about our wife? I mean, as bad as Patrick has been, and the evidence is clear on that, your wife was just as bad," she said.

"You're right, Mrs. Brand. I have taken measures to ensure that her behavior will not be repeated; the consequences will be monumental if she errs," I said. "Part of it is a matter of a contract she has had sign and already has, and part of it is personal. Of course, the biggee is that she will be raising a child that is to say the least unexpected."

"I see. Child support from Patrick?" she said.

"I've got a thought or two about that," I said. "I need to make sure that he won't be hanging around in the future, the child notwithstanding. I don't want to be fighting him in court forever; I want him gone from us."

"He won't fight you, Mr. Wakefield. I know things that he doesn't know I know. If he has any idea of causing any undue trouble for either of us his ass will be mine-mine and the IRS," she said. I smiled at her use of the word "ass"; it didn't fit her personality. This woman wasn't as mousy and clueless as I had originally thought.

I was sittin' at my usual spot when he took the stool next to me. "Hello asshole," he said.

"Mister Brand, I won't say it's good to see you, but maybe interesting would work," I said.

"Yeah, well interesting is what I intend to make it for you," he said. His meaning was clear.

I needed to make sure that I wasn't going to jail for what was surely about to happen. I looked around. The bartender was only a few feet down the bar. I wanted to make certain he saw the first blow delivered.

The two of us, Brand and me, were standing just a few feet apart.

"You cost me my marriage, and my business, Mr. Wakefield, now you pay," he said. The blow was wild and slow, but I made sure it landed. I wanted to get hit. I was. The next seven or eight blows also landed-on him. He was down.

"Let me put it this way, grouchy," I said. "I didn't break up your marriage you did by cheating. And, you are not the bad ass-clearly-that my wife thought you were; you know she actually told me to be careful of you because you are so big. Well, you really ain't much are you, big man.

"Sign the papers I know were delivered to you asshole, or what has happened to you just now will be only the beginning. You've lived fast and loose, Mr. Brand; you need to slow down and get your head outta your ass," I said.

Unbeknownst to me, Annette went to see the guy. Being the cautious type I had her purse wired; the little voice activated recorder would get it all unless she left her purse in the car-highly unlikely. Turned out, she didn't leave it in the car.

"What do you want, Annette. You've done enough to me haven't you?" he said.

"We did it to each other," said Annette. "The only one dumber than me was you. I mean you couldn't afford better condoms?"

"They were the best money could buy, Annette. I didn't want you pregnant either. For the record, I am surprised that your dear husband is taking on the kid. Anyway, I signed the papers; he'll get 'em in a day or two," he said. She looked askance at him, but then recovered.

"That was one of the reasons I came over here. We are getting it back together, and I don't want you coming around to cause trouble, not even to see the child you've already disowned, none of it. Understand? My husband will take a very dim view of it if you do," she said. I could sense her smiling even though I was only listening to the tape.

"I understand. Trust me I don't want to see you any more than you want to see me. I'm leaving town in a few days anyway. My wife got the store in the divorce, so there's no reason for me to hang around.

"You're looking very pregnant today. How much longer, two, three months?" he said.

"Not quite three," she said. But, don't worry; it's none of your concern," she said.

They were quiet for a moment. I could sense a lack of things to say. Finally, I heard Mr. Brand laugh. "I may be broke Annette, but you're the one who's going to have to settle for little dick," he said.

"Well, fuck you!" she said. I turned off the tape.

The arrangement we had with the former Mrs. Brand got us child support from the store till the baby was eighteen. It was the best of all possible worlds. Mister Brand would have gotten piece of the store in the divorce anyway, so this way was best. He signed over all interest in the store to his ex, and she took on the burden of the child support payment out of the half that would have been his. It was a good deal because it got him out of the mix, and it guaranteed that the payments would be made: the store was very profitable. Oh, and Annette still works there.

Mister Brand had his freedom, I got the girl, his ex got the business, and the kid would be a whole lot better off with me and Annette than she-yes it turned out to be a she-ever would have been with a self-centered asshole like Patrick Brand.

It was some six month after the baby was born that Annette and I sat down for our long overdue discussion of everything that had happened.

We'd talked around it. We'd made up. She'd promised to never, never again do what she'd done; and she meant it. But, what we had not done was talk about the emotional side of it all. We did now.

"Little Annie is down?" I said.

"Yes, down and romping around in dreamland," said Annette.

"Good, good," I said. I was sipping some hot tea from my favorite mug.

"I am so glad we were able to save our marriage, Garland. I hope you are as happy as I am because I am very happy," she said.

I looked over at her. "I'm happy, Annette, maybe happier than you. But, you and Brand did run me a helluva a race. There were times when I was sure that the hare was finally gonna win one," I said.

"Huh?" said Annette.

"I knew I couldn't run with you guys, but I was fairly sure that in the end that things between you two would screw up. My biggest worry was whether or not I could handle the fallout. I got lucky in the end," I said.

"You were more than patient and endlessly forgiving of this here cunt," she said. "I did not deserve another chance, but you didn't desert me. I intend to spend the rest of my life showing you my appreciation for that.

"Can I ask, why didn't you? Desert me, I mean. I've been afraid to ask that question all of these months, but I kinda feel that this is the right time," she said.

I snickered. "Yeah, well, I hate to lose something I worked so hard to make mine. I just couldn't see Brand as being man enough to take it away from me," I said. "Oh, he had the money and the charm, I guess-and the, well, you know."

"Yeah, his dick," she said. "He did have that. Trouble was, it was all he had. The money was nothing to me. You made enough. But, what he did have, in the end, far and away more than dick size, was arrogance. Boy did he have that." I smirked.

"Yeah, he did that," I said.

"Garland-I know that you suffered from my betrayal. It might be of some comfort for you to know that I did too. The guilt that I had to live with all the while was sometimes very taxing.

"I deserved my pain though; you did not deserve yours. Do you know, that in the end-I wasn't going to tell you this-but I went to see Brand one more time… " I started to interrupt, but she held up her hand. "Please, let me finish. And, before you ask, not for sex, not even.

"I went to close the books with him once and for all and to make sure he signed the adoption papers. He'd already done that though, as he told me, and mailed them; but, I didn't know that at the time.

"Anyway, I had the feeling that he was sorry for all of the trouble he'd caused. Nothing he said, you understand, just a feeling I had, his tone of voice. I think that we, all of us, are finally free and clear of it all. I hope so at any rate," she said.

"Annette, we are free and clear of it. I think that we are going to be fine. Little Annie is already in our hearts and one with us. And, you and I are doing the dirty more often than we ever did. We're gonna be fine.

"Something, I haven't told you, but maybe now is the time. I've already booked us on a cruise to Puerto Vallarta for next June. Our second honeymoon," I said. She jumped out of her chair and came to me, straddling my lap and my engorging penis.

She stood, turned, pulled her dress up to her waist, and waited. I got down on my knees behind her, and kissed her still panty-covered buttocks. She giggled. I still worshipped this woman, and she knew it, and she had every intention of exploiting it. I was determined to endure my pain.

The tortoise got the prize.

-----------------------------

   Series:Thicker Than Blood
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:A malaise of family dysfunction and emotional ruin.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/13282/thicker-than-blood
Published:2016-01-25
CHAPTER ONE: 1974-1985…

They say that blood is thicker than water, and I guess that's so. Still, water evaporates, and the supply of blood for any one individual is limited. But, the feelings one has for the love of his or her life never evaporates and has no limit, none. I am living testimony to that great truth.

My dad, Philby Carter, married Xena Westbrook in 1964. I came along a year later, and joined my brother-a product of mom's first marriage-Ronald Carter completing the family Carter. Oh, we had relatives, chief among them mom's sister Aunt Delia. But, our nuclear family was complete with the final addition of me.

My brother was nine years older than me and he had my back from day one. Mom used to say that he could change diapers better than she could; I think she was kidding. But, there was no doubt that Ron and I were tight. Oh, and I'm David Carter.

I never met Ron's Dad. Never knew much about him, and, as was the case, neither did Ronald. The story was that he was a big guy and handsome; and, he was a player who abandoned mom and child after a year of more or less worthless fatherhood.

Physically, I was a little guy compared to my brother: he turned out to be six-two and a hard body; me, five-six, and slight of build. I guess the two of us most resembled our dads.

******

My earliest memory of Ronald and me goes back to my days in grammar school, fourth grade actually. At the time he was a senior at Central High. He was mister all everything there: football, class vice president, lead in the senior play; oh, and real popular with the girls.

Jenna Kirby was arguably the prettiest girl on planet earth, or so I thought, and she was Ronald's personal arm candy. Well, she was until she caught him making out with Sofie Matson. I was there when she told him to take a hike-her exact words actually. But that was Ronald, a player; guess he inherited that little trait from his daddy. At any rate there was always a girl on his arm and he wasn't selfish. Hell no, he set me up with my first two dates! I always suspected he paid them to go out with me, just kidding! I was actually pretty good looking for a short skinny guy.

No, truth was that I had dates, plenty of them; not as many, nor with as many different girls as Ron; but, chopped liver I certainly was not. Oh, and I was better looking than him; well, at least that's the story I'm sticking with.

******

Ron met the woman that everyone thought was the love of his life in 1979 I think it was. The got married in 1980. Big ceremony, high hopes, and for the next few years things looked rosy as heck. But, well, I guess it's true what they say about leopards. Madeleine caught him in bed with her best friend, and as had Jenna Kirby before her, told him to take a hike. I know for a fact he shed a few tears over her; she really was a winner.

The upside to his divorce was that there was no alimony: she made more money than he did. He worked as a used car salesman at the time, pure commission. He was pretty good at it but Madeleine had a steady job as a bartender and a week's tips alone for her could be as much as Ronnie made in a month, well, at the time.

Maddie and Ronnie had no children, her decision; Ronnie wanted them, and he wanted them badly. But, Maddie ruled the nest, well, until she didn't. At any rate daddyhood may have been denied him, but the desire to be a daddy, incongruous as it sounds considering what a womanizer he was, only grew over time.

Singlehood did seem to work for Ronald. After his divorce he dove into his job like a wild man to help him forget his lost love. He became so good at, selling cars, that dad gave him the seed money-he did have to take out a second mortgage to do it-to get started in his own business, yeah, used car sales.

What also came of his success was a big head. He had women around all of the time. Kind of scandalous actually. He never tired of giving his little brother, me, advice on women. "Find yourself a soulmate, bro," he'd say. Ala high school days, he even set me up with a couple of "nice" girls; read girls who wouldn't put out.

Why he was so interested in getting me married was a mystery to me. He, on the other hand, in spite of his mania to become a daddy and it was a mania in his case, did not seem in a hurry to get married again. Most of us in the family thought it was because he just couldn't get over losing Madeleine. Well, she had been a stunner. Of course, he would eventually marry, and that little reality would be at base the cause of everything else this story's about.

CHAPTER TWO: 1987

The wedding reception was going strong. The champagne was flowing. The bride and the bridesmaids were carousing and dancing, and the groom and his entourage were doing their thing out on the patio.

It'd been a largish wedding, a couple of hundred in attendance. But, as far as David, me, age twenty-two, unmarried and wished he was, married that is, was concerned there was just one guest he would ever remember, and he is slow dancing with her at this very moment.

"So, you're a warehouseman, David," said Stacey Wilcox. "I guess I don't have to worry about you wanting to show me your etchings." She laughed.

"Yes, been in the business since high school. My dad got me the job; he'd worked for Ferguson forever. And no, no etchings; but I'd like to tell you about the new headers on my car," I said, "you know over coffee or lunch or something."

"Oohee," she screamed, in simulated joy, "can't wait to hear about those."

"Yes, well the extra power I get from the reduced back pressure from the manifold is most definitely worth a good 'ole rousing oohee!" I said.

"Hmm, well, if you're job pays you enough to afford me, you can take me out to dinner tomorrow night," she said.

I admit it, I blinked when she said that. I mean, was she putting a move on me? But, I recovered pretty damn quickly.

"Hmm, I love an unabashed gold digger," I said. Now she broke up laughing.

******

The next night happened to be Sunday night. I had to work the next day, but as I discovered, she didn't; she had Mondays off. She was a waitress at Mahoney's B&G.;

Dinner at the Silver Spur was good. The dancing was even better. And, while I didn't have any etchings to contribute to my campaign to bed her, she evidently didn't see a problem. And no, the new headers on my car didn't get a mention either.

We lay side by side utterly exhausted. Her breasts were heaving. I didn't understand that one; I mean I was the one who'd done all the work, and man had it ever been worth it!

"That was the best sex ever," I said. "I hope it was okay for you too."

"Hmm, it was very good, David, thank you," she said.

I thought it was interesting that she didn't say that it was the best sex that she'd ever had, but, I guess honesty is the best policy; and, she had said it was very good. Well, and we were both only twenty-two years old, so what did we know.

"Was it good enough to get a second date?" I said. She rolled over and looked me right in the eyes.

"Damn straight it was," she said. "I'm just glad as can be that you noticed me at the reception and decided to ask me out."

"Me too, but truth told, it would have been real hard to not notice you," I said. "You were without a doubt the best thing at that little gala, no doubt about it."

She laughed. "Well, thank you for that," she said.

"If you're clear this coming weekend there is a little family get together. You know the barbecue bit and such. I'd kinda like to show you off if you'd be up for it," I said.

"Of course," she said. "I'd be delighted. Formal or informal?"

"Very informal," I said. "Pick you up at high noon?"

"Sounds good," she said. "I'd love to meet your family."

Oh boy, this was the woman for me, no freakin' doubt about it. I had to have her. Nothing else in the world mattered and iota: Stacey was the one.

******

I was proud of myself. I'd actually found a woman who I could not only be proud of, because she was such a looker and such a fun person, but also because she was going to be supremely popular with the family. My much older brother, ten years older, especially, would be thrilled I'd finally found someone to latch onto. He'd been bugging me about finding the right woman in forever, hypocrite and womanizer though he was and had long been.

Oh, he'd, had my brother, had a winner in Madelaine, his now ex-wife. But, he'd soured that in almost no time cheating on her with damn near every pussy in sight. She'd finally caught him of course; he wasn't especially cautious in his antics. She'd divorced his cheating ass, she had, thereinafter, disappeared into the eternal ether of the cosmos never to be seen again, well, by any of us.

I pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. I wanted to kick myself for not bringing flowers for her, the universal sign of slavery for future husbands. But, I'd be making it up to her in spades for damn sure.

Parked, I headed for her second floor walkup. I knocked. I could hear footsteps. The door opened and I couldn't believe how beautiful she looked. I think I stared for a full minute before squeaking out my prepared greeting.

"Ready to go?" I said. She could see I was distressed. She giggled, but only slightly.

"Sure thing, sailor," she said.

She stepped back inside momentarily leaving me at the door waiting for the best part of fifteen seconds. She'd grabbed her purse and sweater and we were on our way.

"You are absolutely gorgeous today," I said. "I mean you're always gonna be gorgeous but today I'd be afraid to allow you out into traffic. I mean if I had anything to say about allowing you out. I mean-oh heck, I don't know what I mean." Now she laughed.

"Relax handsome. I just hope your family likes me," she said.

"Not a worry in the world about that one," I said. And, boy was that ever the truth.

"Well, good," she said.

We'd known each other for almost no time to speak of, but I was already practicing the proposal of marriage speech I was going to make to her. I was just hoping and praying that I wouldn't make a fool of myself in the doing of it.

The barbecue was already going when we arrived. Mom and dad were inside: Mom in the kitchen and dad on the service porch messing with coolers full of beer and soda pop. Ronald, my brother, and a couple of cousins, Mike Carter and Bill Carter, were present as were their wives, Marilee and Jennifer along with their kids; all four of whom were engaged in making as much racket as they could. Mike was currently busy tending to the fires and the meat being toasted on them.

I strode up to the fire pit and, smiling broadly, got my erstwhile brother's, who was nearby, attention. "Ronald," I said, "I'd like you to meet the girl you warned me about." He turned to see us and his mouth shot open and didn't immediately close.

"Holy mackerel, David, you don't deserve a girl this pretty, not even," he said.

"I have to agree with you there, brother dearest. But, quite frankly, neither do you. So, stay clear of her," I said, laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, no guarantees," he said, also laughing. I gave him a sour look, well, he deserved it.

"Hi David," said Mom, followed by my dad. Dad was carrying a too large styro-cooler and mom was laden with a largesh bowl filled with her special salad.

"This the lady you were telling us about?" said Dad.

"Yes, yes it is," I said. "Stacey Wilcox, this is Xena and Philby Carter, My parents.

"Pleased to meet you both," said Stacey, smiling broadly.

The greeting and pleasantries continued for some few minutes. Cousin Mike broke that up.

"Your turn at the pit," he said, handing me the already soiled apron he'd been wearing. I frowned but accepted the protective garment.

"I'll be back as soon as I can find an excuse," I said, addressing my date.

"Don't worry bro, I'll keep the lovely lady company for the duration," he said.

"Yeah right," I said. I gave my date a peck on the cheek hoping it would hold her until I was able to escape barbecue duty.

******

"So you and my brother," said Ronald, addressing Stacey Wilcox.

"Yes, we met a week ago," she said. "He's a very nice guy."

"Yes, well he is a Carter.

"So, you've known him a week. Is it love at first sight, or just friendship?" said Ronald.

"Hmm, jury's still out," she said. "Let's just say, I'm interested."

"Yeah, well, I know my brother, and I can say with confidence that he sure as heck is interested," said Ronald. "I've been trying to get him to find himself a woman to latch onto for forever. He's one of those who needs a woman to guide him; he's kind of shy if not exactly painfully so, I guess is the bottom line. I just didn't expect him to be so successful." He laughed uproariously at his own remarks.

"Thanks, I think," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, you're quite beautiful. He's a lucky fella to have met you, and, for you to have had mercy on him," said Ronald.

"Well, thank you for that. You're very nice too," she said, "and your parents."

"Yeah, mom and dad, they're the best," he said. "Look, can I get you a drink. We Carter's always have a supply of the very finest spirits on hand in case of company."

She looked him askance. "Okay," she said. "Anything will be fine."

"Okay, anything coming up," he said. He headed for the cooler, parked next to the picnic table, that his dad had lugged out but shortly before. He pulled out a couple of Lite beers.

He popped the tabs and headed back to his charge. He handed her hers.

"Thank you kind sir," she said.

"My pleasure, fair lady," he said. Their conversation went on for some little while. They were interrupted by an older lady apparently on a mission.

"Aunt Delia," said Ronald. "Let me introduce you to Stacey Wilcox, David's date for the day."

"Oh," said Aunt Delia? "Has your date abandoned you, dear?"

"No, no, Aunt Delia, he's just manning the barbecue for the moment," said Ronald.

"Hmm, and left the sheep to be sheared by the wolves," said Aunt Delia, meaningfully.

"Now, Aunt Delia, I'm just the spear carrier here today," said Ronald, pretending shock at his aunt's words.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure the leopard has changed its spots," she said, she was not smiling.

"Here comes our hero, now," said Ronald.

"Hi Aunt Delia," I said, coming up to the group. "Anybody miss me?"

"Just me," said Stacey. This girl seemed to find new ways to make my day every time I turned around.

Things started breaking up just after dark. Well, it was summer and dark didn't happen until around 8:00PM. I could see my brother had hit it off with Stacey. She thought he was funny and talked to him a lot. I was happy that she got along with him. Ron and I were closer than any two brothers in the county, oh yeah! I counted on him to have my back, as he always had. Big brothers were the best as far as I was concerned.

At any rate, the barbecue had been an unqualified success. Everybody loved Stacey. And I had a date for the following weekend. Talk about happy times, these were more than that for me.

And then it was six months later and we were married. Stacey and I we were happy, sinfully so.

We had set up our lounge chairs on the patio of our little three bedroom place. It was a smaller place than mom and dad's or big brother's for sure, but it was cozy and clean and warm and ours.

"Happy?" I said.

"David, I have never been so happy. Thank you for asking to marry me. I love you," she said. And, for no reason whatsoever she started to cry. I didn't need to ask the reason for the tears; they were happy tears. I just got up from my chair and knelt beside hers wrapping my arms around her. God how I adored this woman!

******

It was Saturday, mid-afternoon, when we got the visit. Unexpected, but the visitor was welcome. "Ronald," I said. "Good to see you; been a little while."

"Yeah, I've been busy, trying to get another shop open; well, you know, a lot to do: financing, hiring, the whole ball of wax," he said.

"I guess," I said, "come in, come in. Honey, Ronald's here," I yelled to get my wife's attention. She was busy doing woman's stuff in the kitchen. She didn't quite scurry out to meet our visitor, but she was glad to see him.

First beers downed, the conversation light and airy, tacos consumed- it'd turned out Stacey was a master of Mexican cuisine-we kicked back on the patio.

"Honey, we're out of Lite," I said. "I'm gonna head down to the market and pick up a couple of six packs. Can you keep Ron entertained for a little bit?" I said.

"Of course, go get your stuff. Hurry back," she said. I nodded.

"Okay, I'll be back in twenty," I said. I got my keys and headed out.

"David's a lucky guy," said Ronald.

"Thank you for that, Ronald. He is a good guy. We're happy," she said.

"If I'd seen you first, well," he said, and laughed, but it was a laugh tinged with something.

"Yes, well, you Carter men are an attractive lot. I might have given you a tumble," she said, she smiled, and her smile was likewise tinged with something. The moment passed, what ensued was a pregnant silence.

"Stacey?" he said.

"Yes?" she said.

"Oh, I don't know. Can I tell you something, something I've been thinking about for some time now," he said.

"Ronald? Is something wrong?" she said.

"Uh-no, I mean yes," he said. "I mean, can I tell you something?"

"Sure, I guess so," she said. Her brow was knitted. And, she wasn't sure why, but she felt her face flush.

"I know this might come as a bit of a shock. But, if you can abide hearing what I have to say, well, I feel an almost irresistible impulse to tell you," he said.

"This is something you wouldn't want David to hear, I'm guessing?" she said. He looked down.

"No," he said, "that would not be good."

"Okay," she said.

"Stacey, I'm in love with you," he said. "Now if you want me to leave, I will and I will never bother you again. But…"

"Ronald, I don't… " she started.

"I'll be leaving. Please forget what I said. I really won't bother you again," he said.

"No!" she said. "Ronald, I, well I feel the same way. But, we can't, I mean; well, you know what I mean."

"Come here," he said. He took her in his arms. The kiss was long and hot and dirty.

"Hello fans," I said. Coming back into the kitchen where my family was. I deposited the beers in the frig, except for the three I'd opened. We picked up where we left off when I'd had to go to the store.

We drank a couple more brews and then, hugs all around, Ronald took his leave.

"That was nice Ron coming by," I said.

"Yes, yes it was. He's a good guy," she said.

Life was good.

******

The Carlton Arms had a good lunch buffet, and it had a good view of the desert landscape surrounding the grounds; oh, and it had rooms.

"Thank you for meeting me," he said.

"Thank you for inviting me," she said.

"How's everything at home? He doesn't suspect? I mean… " he said.

'No, but it doesn't matter, we haven't done anything to be suspected of. You're my brother-in-law; it's all good," she said. He nodded.

"I don't know, meeting here like this every week might not be understood," he said. "What's it been now, nine or ten weeks in a row?"

"I guess," she said. "But, I have to see you. Platonic or not, I have to see you."

"Likewise," he said. "But, you said platonic or not. I mean, 'or not'?" She looked away, looked back at him, but she said nothing. He looked her askance.

"Would you, dare we?" he said. She rose and started walking toward the desk area at the front of the hotel. Tentatively, he rose to follow her. She waited by the elevator. He joined her but was for the moment confused. She took up the spear.

"You have to get us a room," she said.

"But, my broth…"

"Don't talk. Just get the damn room," she ordered. He turned and crossed the concourse to the sign-in desk.

CHAPTER THREE 1987

"That was more than enthusiastic on your part," she said.

"Hah? You didn't seem all that bored with the festivities either," he said, smirking.

"No, no, it definitely wasn't boring," she said. "I was into it. And, Ron, that bothers me." She didn't look over at him, but she sensed his concern anyway.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I just don't know," she said. "He's too good a man to screw over. But…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean, and he is too good a man to screw over as you say. That said, that's just what we got done doing. I know I'm not going to be saying this right, but as bad as what we just did actually is; I mean cheating on our man, it feels right," he said.

"I feel the same way. I guess all we can do is hope for the best and keep our heads. I can't divorce him nor can I, well, I can't do whatever it is I can't do," she said. "What a mess. Why didn't I meet you first!"

"Fate, perverse gods, whatever: you met my brother first and the stiff gets to keep you. But, that said, I'll be around. Stacey, we just need to be ultra-careful. No slipups, no casual conversation where hints of our feelings get picked up and destroys us all," he said.

"No, no slip ups," she said. "So where do we go from here?"

"I bury myself in my business. You remain, as I'm sure you have been this past almost a year now, the dutiful wife. We just get on with living," he said.

"Ron, I need you. We have to be able to see each other," she said. He gave her a look.

"Yes," he said. "Half a loaf is better than absolutely nothing, but it cannot be scheduled and predictable. If we continue to see each other it will have to be on the quiet of course, but very occasionally and not predictable. My brother isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he's not blind. And the fallout from being caught would be catastrophic." She nodded her understanding.

"I understand," she said.

"I'm just going to be the happy go lucky brother-in-law I've so far been, you the beautiful wife of one very lucky David Carter. And that brings up another matter, and it's important," he said.

"Huh? What?" she said.

"The sex you have with him: it can't change or become less than it has been. You and he do get it on a lot, right?" he said.

"Yes, well, I guess it's a lot: two or three times a week," she said.

"I've been a womanizer for forever," he said. "I know about these things. Any major change in your sex lives, that he doesn't initiate, would be a tell and an easy one to recognize. Be very conscious of that; I know what I'm talking about." She nodded.

"But a womanizer?" she said.

"Yes, but no more. From now on you're my one and only; I mean that, Stacey. And that if only in the shadows," he said. "Fate may have screwed us over, as we have David, but we're going to get back at it, fate, regardless."

She smiled. "I feel the same way, Ronald Carter.

"I have to say, I do feel like a shit doing this to him. But, I guess what is, is, and that's all that needs to be said about it, I suppose," she said.

"I guess. And, I feel every bit as bad about doing this to him as you do. I hope that somehow some way it'll all play out for the best. In the long run it just has to. It just has to!" he said.

"I hope so too. I just hope the long run isn't a synonym for forever," she said.

"Yes, for real," he said. "You know, I don't think it will be. I just know that somehow some way it'll all work out for the best, for all of us, including my brother. I feel it."

******

"So brother mine, you've expanded your business," I said.

"Yes, things are going good, very good actually. Making the money and selling the cars. The factories and suppliers are happy; I'm happy, happiness all around.

"How are you and Stacey doing if I might ask?" said Ronald.

"Good, real good. You know, I've said it before, but I got lucky finding her, real lucky," I said. "Beautiful, intelligent, loving: there isn't anything else. She's perfect."

"Seems so," said Ronald. "Hear mom and dad are coming over next weekend. It's almost Christmas."

"Yeah, they called and talked to Stacey. They'll be down next Friday. Aunt Delia's coming down with them. Should be a good time, you gonna be able to make it?" I said.

"Maybe, I'm gonna be outta town for a few days next week, but I should make it back by the weekend latest. So, yeah, I'll be there," said Ronald.

******

The party was going full blast when the triumphal hero arrived.

"Well, I guess you're the star of the day," said Stacey.

"Yes, Ron, that's really great," I said. "Mom and dad are in the kitchen. Come on."

The kitchen was crowded but nobody cared.

"Yeah, yeah, got me another store. Got two more in the planning stages too. Times are good; people wanna buy cars. If this keeps up you're looking at a soon to be millionaire," bragged Ronald Carter.

He'd always been good with money, business, and with the ladies; we all knew that. His marriage cratered mainly because he was too good with the ladies. Maddie had been good for him, but he queered the marriage by cheating serially on her. Good sense, when it came to women, wasn't his strong suit.

Ironically, he'd gotten it right in my case. I had indeed needed a woman, and my woman, Stacey, was a princess loved by all of us. In the year and a half since our marriage; we'd, the both of us, been the happiest couple around. There was no doubt about that. Another irony, one might logically add into the equation, was that he, Ronald, was clearly jealous of my good fortune. And, I would have to admit to a deal of smugness because of it. I did rub his nose in it more than once. Well, he had his money and I had my wife. I figured I had the better of those two happenstances.

******

"So that'll make four then, I guess," said Stacey.

"Indeed it does. And… " he said and stopped.

"And?" she said.

"And I've done it," he said.

"Done what?" she said.

"Made my first," he said.

"Ronald, made your first what!" she said, her impatience showing.

"Why my first million of course," he said. He'd stopped her with that one. She stared.

"Oh my," she finally uttered. "That's, that's really something.

"I only wish David had your drive and ambition. He's happy as a clam earning his thirty thousand a year and kicking back on weekends. But, well, it is what it is, we eat regular," she said.

"Yes, I know. I've offered him a job that would pay him twice what he's getting at Ferguson's, but his pride won't let him come over. It's his choice; I can't make it for him," said Ronald.

"I know. Not much we can do about it. I guess all we can do is keep on keeping on," she said.

"Yeah, the status quo, that's us you and me and him too when you get down to it," he said. She nodded.

They lay naked together for some time before they had to depart the hotel.

******

She picked up the phone. He'd been out of town talking to suppliers, she knew. She'd waited until this minute to call him. She wondered how he'd react. But, however he reacted the message would not be without unavoidable difficulties and that for the both of them.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi, it's me. You have to come over. And it has to be now," she said.

"Oh, okay. What's it about?" he said.

"When you get here," she said, and she hung up.

He looked at the phone as though it were toxic. Her manner indicated that it could only be one thing. Somehow, David had discovered them. He knew, he just knew, that his brother knew of their affair and it was going to be bad, very bad.

Ten minutes later he parked in front of his brother's house. He waited a full minute before exiting the car. At least his brother was at work. Stacey would be alone in the house.

He walked like a condemned man to the door and knocked. She answered it. He stepped inside.

"Okay?" he said. She just looked at him, tears streaking her cheeks.

"Ronald… " she started and stopped.

"Stacey, what is it!" he said, his impatience and his fear growing and showing.

"Ron, you and I, well, we're pregnant," she said. The stunned look on his face would, to any observer, have said it all.

"Oh my God!" he said. "Does he know?"

"No, I didn't know myself till this morning," she said.

"You sure it's ours?" he said, hope painting his features.

"Yes, not a doubt," she said. "Ron, what are we going to do? I don't know what to do?"

"Only one thing we can do. My brother, David, just became a father," he said.

"But, you're the father. I mean it'll be your child he'd be raising. The pressure of a thing like that. And, you're so different in build and complexion and all," she said.

"That won't be a problem at least not for many years," he said. "I mean if it is even then."

"I could only hope that you're right," she said.

"I am. Listen, he has to be the father of record. I know you aren't going to be going for an abortion, and for sure I don't want you to, so this is the only viable choice. I am going to be one heck of a doting uncle, but for now, for the foreseeable future; David Carter is going to be the daddy. He'll be a good one, probably arrogant about it too," said Ronald.

His mind was doing summersaults. That he'd have to abandon, perhaps forever, his fatherly rights, he began to realize. He was sick, sick at heart; but, he knew it was his only realistic choice.

His brother would be rubbing his nose in it seven ways to Sunday. Oh yeah, that was a sure bet!

******

The knock on my door was becoming routine. I'd not seen my brother so often since we were kids. I mean four times in two weeks. I think his jealousy at my impending fatherhood was almost too much for him, heck for me too; and he kept coming over so damn early; well, he did have a business to run, a big business. And, my erstwhile wife encouraged him! Well, I was glad he was so into our good fortune; I did want him to be there for us after the baby came. And, it was more than clear that he would be; I really was grateful for that. I had to smile, an uncle's job was a big one, and my womanizing brother was clearly understanding all about that. I figured he'd be out there looking for his own woman pretty soon; it almost made me laugh.

"Again Ron! I guess I gotta start fixing up the guest room for you," I said, but I was smiling.

"Well, that would be nice of you, and convenient," said Ronald Carter, and he was smiling too.

"Ronald!" said Stacey coming into the room.

"Yeah, it's me. Thought you might need some help," he said.

"Well, that's very nice of you, but I don't know what you might be helpful with. I mean I still have several months to go. Unless of course you mean you want to help my husband with the yard work," she said, she was smiling cordially.

"Whatever I can do," he said.

"Well, you two hang out for a bit, I need to be going out. I have to check on some paperwork I didn't get finished with at the warehouse. I'll be back soon. Oh, and Ronald, if you want to weed the flower bed feel free."

******

"He's in a good, mood," he said.

"Yes, ever since I got pregers he's kinda been on cloud nine," said Stacey.

"He hasn't said anything about me coming over as often as I've been coming over?" said Ronald.

"No, he's mentioned it. He's kinda surprised by it. He thinks you're jealous and maybe thinking about getting another wife yourself so you can be a daddy," said Stacey.

"God, I have to admit that he's right on the one hand. I am jealous of him being the daddy to my, our, baby. I mean I am over the top jealous!" he said.

"Well, it's for the best, I mean him being the apparent daddy. Maybe someday it'll be different, but for the near term it's got to be the way it is, as you yourself have said. I know it's hard for you, but you'll be there. I mean you are the 'uncle' of record for sure. You'll have rights too," she said.

"Yeah, I know. It wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't being so damnably arrogant about it all. It really rankles," he said.

"Well, you'll just have to suck it up. You are regularly fucking his wife after all."

He smiled, "Yeah, well that is a true thing isn't it."

******

I really did have the greatest wife in the world. What I also had was a very scared-sort of-wife. She seemed seriously frightened to me. Hence, we were in Lamaze classes learning how to do baby birthing with the least amount of stress possible. Me, you ask, no I wasn't especially nervous about anything. I guess I did have a small concern as to the baby's health and all, but the doctor said no problem everything looked good, so no, I wasn't worried. In fact, I was very much into the whole scene.

My brother was also into it. I think mostly to keep me on center if that's the way to say it. He must have told me, completely unnecessarily, a hundred times not to worry. Hell, he was more worried than I was: the doting uncle thing I guess. Well, I humored his jealous ass, and it was more than clear that he was in fact jealous. Heck he actually told me he was and that more than once.

Stacey, was supportive of his feelings as she was of mine: more mine than his I think, but his too.

The Lamaze thing was interesting, but really mostly routine. We went to the classes. We did the breathing bit. We did the hubby support and encouragement bit. We were warned about the rare occasions when hubbies actually passed out when they saw the baby coming out of the womb. I wasn't going to pass out, but I guess some guys did: pussies all of them.

******

"Yeah," I said. "But it's no big deal. I'm just mainly going to support her while she's actually doing the delivery."

"Yeah, well do a good job. You've got a winner for a wife there, and she deserves all of the support you can give her," said Ronald. I had to laugh; he really was more concerned about Stacey than I was. Well, I was with her all of the time, and I knew the inside dope. He was around a lot but not twenty-four-seven. At any rate I did appreciate his support, help, interest all of it over the top though it was.

"I plan on doing a good job, Ron, obviously. Mellow out man.

"You know you need to find yourself a woman, like you used to always tell me, and have kids and do the family thing like me," I said. "Heck, you make a good living, you're not as good looking as me, but what the hey," I said, laughing.

"Yeah, right," he said. "You just wish you were as good looking as me."

He didn't say anything, but I could tell he'd somehow taken offense at what I'd said to him. I couldn't figure it. He'd become over time, something, touchy maybe, something. It was like he wasn't just jealous of me and Stacey's situation. He was actually becoming way more than emotional about things generally. I'd actually asked Stacey about it, but she'd pooh-poohed my concerns. I guess she was right. I mean it was my brother not some stranger or more distant family member. I made a promise to myself to be a bit more considerate when talking to him.

******

"Ron, you really need to back off a bit," said Stacey.

"It's just, I don't know, the way he is always rubbing my nose in it. He's such a lucky guy, he's going to be such a good father, he's got the most beautiful wife in the world: I'm sick of hearing it, I mean him bragging," said Ronald.

"He's just excited about being a dad. He has to talk about it to someone and you're the one he's chosen to talk to you. That's a good thing.

"Keep in mind what we're doing to him behind his back. Letting him have a little ego enhancement is a small price to pay. I mean don't you think?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "I just want to be a dad, its dad, so bad myself; and it is my kid damn it! Why can't I be its daddy? I want to be its daddy."

"Yes, I know you want to be her daddy, but you know why you can't be, not now, not yet," she said.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," he said. "You said her! How do you know it's a her?"

"The results of the ultra sound came back earlier today. I just found out," she said. He fell back into his seat.

"My God! A little girl. Oh, shit. He's going to really be rubbing my nose in it now. A baby girl. Is he going to be naming her or will it be you?"

"The both of us I guess. Wait, is there a name you would like her to have?" she said.

"What difference does it make. He's not going to go for anything I suggest not even," said Ronald.

"He might if he didn't know it was you that suggested it," said Stacey. The look on his face was pure interest.

"Well, I mean… " he started.

"Yes, yes, we could do it. You and me. I'm sure I could convince him. I don't think it would even be all that hard. Oh, And he told me not to tell you, but, well it doesn't matter anymore now; if it had been a boy we were going to name him Ronald if you want to know; I mean if it'd been a boy. I guess he figured since you are here so much and so concerned about me and the baby and everything; well, he wanted to do something for you," she said. "And, that's on the QT; I wasn't supposed to tell you that either."

"Really?" he said.

"Yes, really," she said.

"Well, I feel just wonderful now. Jesus, even when he tries to do something nice for me; he makes me feel bad! I can't win," said Ronald. Stacey laughed.

"Well count your blessings," she said. "If you think about it, our plans are going along pretty darn good. I mean, we have each other; our child will have a good home no matter what, and everybody's happy. Well, except for your disappointment that you can't be her daddy right at the moment. You need to mellow out some. And like I say, count your blessings.

"Yes, yes, I know you're right. I don't much like it, the status quo, but things could be worse, and I am well aware of that," he said.

CHAPTER FOUR 1988

I watched as she chewed her food, deliberately. She seemed to concentrate on each bite as though there were some prescription that she was aware of that I was not.

"Hungry but not hungry?" I said.

"You know I don't know. I should be hungry right? I mean I'm eating for two. But, I'm not, well, not very hungry," she said.

"Well, Dr. Snodgrass told us that things might be changing in this last month or so of your pregnancy," I said.

"Yes, I know. I guess it's normal, I mean my appetite," she said. "Anyway, just three more weeks. Oh my, I do hope that the baby isn't late in coming. I am getting so anxious," she said.

"Yes. I understand, I feel the same way," I said. "But, I guess there's nothing to do but wait things out now. I mean it is what it is."

"I guess," she said. Her sigh was more pregnant with meaning than her belly was pregnant with our baby. I had to smile, and she noticed.

"What are you smiling about?" she said, and she was frowning.

"Nothing really, I guess I'm just happy," I said.

"Since you're in such a good mood. How about you letting me have the choice of names for the baby. I mean I did tell you that you could choose, since you were so good about doing the Lamaze thing. But… " she said.

Now, I frowned, but I was happy and she was going to be doing the suffering when she went into labor. There was really no good reason to hold out for my right to choose the baby's name. I decided to go for a compromise.

"Okay," I said. "But I get to veto the name if it's too bizarre. Okay?"

"Okay.

"How about naming our baby Jenna" she said.

"Of all of the names she could have chosen that one had an actual history with me and my brother. I wondered if he was the one who had suggested it.

"Jenna?" I said.

"Yes, it's pretty don't you think?" she said.

"Did my brother put you up to that one?" I said. She looked as though she'd been caught robbing the cookie jar.

"He did suggest it, I have to admit," she said. "But, how did you know?"

"Because it was the name of one of his girlfriends in times gone by. It was a long time ago, but I remember her very clearly. I liked the girl too, but she was in high school, and I was in maybe the fourth or fifth grade, too old for me," I said. She smirked, you liked older women then did you," she said, rhetorically.

Now, she frowned. "But, one of Ronald's girlfriends? Really?" she said.

"Yes," I said. "But, that was a long time ago. So okay, if you like the name that well, it's a go. Jenna it is." She didn't frown, but she didn't seem especially overjoyed at my capitulation. Women, especially pregnant women, who could figure 'em? For damn sure not me."

The next two and a half weeks were emotionally tight. That is, both my wife and I were on pins and needles.

******

It was 7:13PM on the wall clock in the living room. I was in front of the tube watching some mindless nonsense and thinking not at all. I heard the scream. It was muted, and it was from the back bedroom, ground floor, of our three bedroom tract home. I didn't quite run back. She was sweating and not wanting to talk. She did blubber her level of stress, however.

"Hospital-now!" she gasped. Her bag was already packed and in the car. One-point-five minutes later we were on the road: I'd had to all but carry her out to the car. Eleven minutes after gunning my Toyota's more than reliable power train we pulled into the emergency bay of Milton C. Armistead Memorial.

She was taken up to the second floor immediately by half smiling nurses who seemed in a hurry to me but not especially concerned. Well I sure as hell was concerned. At any rate I was relegated to a smallish, but at least warm waiting room off the main corridor leading to the inner sanctorum of the gyno-wing.

I'd been on my cell for some little while. Everybody I called wanted to talk. My brother was first. Then Aunt Delia, and finally my parents-they were the worst in demanding details. But now I just waited. The callees began arriving not but a few minutes after my last call. Aunt Delia arrived first, then my parents, and finally Ronald; he'd been a hundred miles away working on the final details of the purchase of yet another dealership. I'd learn later that he was closing the deal with the woman owner over martinis and prime rib; well why the hell not, in point of fact the kid was not his, it was mine, and he wasn't even married.

The muted hullaballoo in the waiting room went on for the duration. I went over to the nurses' station and asked about the availability of coffee. The cafeteria was the location of the elixir, and I offered to make the trip for the whole troupe. Ronald volunteered to carry my spear for this one. We went down together.

"Was she in pain when you guys came here?" said Ronald, as we headed downstairs.

"Mild. Not too bad. I mean it was kind of intermittent if you know what I mean," I said. He seemed as nervous or even more so than I was.

We got the coffees and a dozen not all that fresh donuts and returned to the waiting area.

When we arrived we got the news: there was no news, not yet.

More muted and meaningless conversation. Then it was 9:59PM, and the doors to the action in the back swung open. Doctor Snodgrass came striding toward us.

"It's a girl; six pounds nine ounces. Mother and baby are doing well. You'll be able to go in shortly. The nurses are in command of the get ready stage and will call you; he nodded in my direction. "It won't be long," he said. Then, he glanced around to where Ronald was standing, but said nothing more. He smiled and seemed to wait for questions, none of us had any. He'd answered them all. He smiled a bit more broadly and left us to mutter our thank Gods and exhalations of sighs.

I didn't quite fall into my seat next to the waiting room's couch. "Oh my," I said to nobody but myself. I looked around at those assembled. They were all smiling, all except Ronald.

"Ron?" I said. He looked over at me. He seemed to come back to a conscious state.

"Uh, yes. A big 'oh my' does seemed called for," he said.

"For real," I said. "And Ron, thank you for being there for us, for me and Stacey. You've been a big help, really," I said. He smiled, but it was a wan smile. I wondered at that. It would be many years before I knew the genesis of that smile, and the meaning behind it; oh, and the horrific consequences thereof.

******

We did see the baby and the mommy, and it was all good. I was pretty sure that at that moment that I was the happiest man alive. I had it all. The only bad part was that mommy and baby couldn't come home till the next day. I do believe that it was the longest twenty-four hours of my entire life.

The release papers signed. I picked my wife up and wheeled her downstairs in the mandatory chair, and loaded her and baby into the car. We went home.

Mom and dad were waiting for us when we got there. Ronald arrived but a short time after we did.

Mom would be the in-house nursemaid to the two women: Stacey and Jenna. Well, I did have to work. Stacey needed the help and was grateful for it.

I got a call a week later from Ronald. He wanted to meet with me for lunch. It, the meeting, would be at the Spur.

******

"So how are you all doing," he said.

"Okay. The baby sleeps most of the time; well, she's only nine days old," I said.

"Need anything: diapers, baby duds, a nanny?" he said. He seemed serious.

"Ron, we're fine. I mean it's wonderful of you to want to help so much, but really we're okay," I said.

"Well good. I just want to help where I can. I've got the cash, Dave, and now that I am a least an uncle, well… " he said.

"And, I think you're the greatest uncle that there is" I said. "And, I will keep your offer for extra diapers in mind," I said.

"Well do. We're brothers. I need you to be okay. I mean for real.

"Anyway, so who's the one doing the feeding in the wee smalls?" he said.

"Hah! She wants to breast feed for a while, so she's got that duty at least for now. I figure that that will run its course in maybe six months. But, then again, maybe not. She is the very model of the perfect mommy," I said. "She just loves the job. And, I have to say, so do I. I mean I'm talking about diapers here? Well, I get diaper duty most of the time except while I'm at work. But, like I said, we share most of the stuff."

We talked for some time, and covered most topics from the political situation in the Middle East to who was gonna be the next manager for the Diamondbacks. But, no matter what topic came up in the two hours we spent eating and drinking, we always seemed to get back to Stacey and the baby and how they were doing. It's amazing how many different ways it was possible to say the same things over and over again. But, eventually we ran out of time and energy and different ways to say how wonderful life could be for the two of us. Him at the age of thirty-two being a marginal millionaire, and me at twenty-three being a family man. We quit the Spur and headed each of us to our homes.

*****

The room was nicely appointed. "So is the baby asleep finally," said Ronald?

"Yes, she always sleeps after she suckles, and now we can relax a little," said Stacey.

They were sitting on the couch in his place and cuddling. He let his hand slip down the front of her dress and gently massage one of her swollen breasts. She turned to him and kissed him lightly.

"I love you, Ron, I really do," said Stacey.

"And, I love you," he said.

Her hand began exploring the front of his Dockers. "Hmm, seems like somebody is turned on," she said. Her words energized his attentions. He began feeling her up more purposefully. Her breasts, her belly, her butt, her pussy all through her clothes. But then the clothes were on the floor, and his hand invaded the crease between her buttocks. He found her anus and invaded that. Pulling his hand away he licked his fingers.

"Sweet," he said. She giggled.

"You always say that," she said.

"And it's always sweet," he said.

"Then get on your knees and do me right," she said. She turned on the couch so that her butt was pushed outward and back. He took his place between her legs and spread her cheeks. He began lapping at her crease and her anus with unabashed passion. While doing his duty, he slid two fingers into her secret place and massaged her there.

She rolled away from his ministrations and lay supine and open and vulnerable to him on the couch.

He stood looming above her. He pushed his cock inside of her, slowly but inexorably. Bottoming out, he paused.

"Don't dally, Ron, fuck me," she commanded.

He began the pushing and pulling rhythm they most liked when he did her, and soon she was pushing back at him trying to get all of his eight-inch penis inside of her.

Their grunting and wheezing and growling went on for many minutes. She felt herself stiffening and began writhing and squirming as a typhoon of orgasms overwhelmed her. He collapsed on top of her.

"Roll off of me big boy. I need to breathe," she said.

The two of them lay inert for some minutes.

"God, how I wish my husband could do that to me," she said. "He's just so…"

"Inept?" he said, finishing her thought.

"I guess," she said.

CHAPTER FIVE 1990

It had been raining for hours. Mom and dad were due at three o'clock, it was seven o'clock according to the kitchen wall clock.

"Honey, you better call. They might have stayed home on account of the storm," said Stacey. I'd been worrying and pacing for some little time. Dad's eyes weren't the best. He hated driving at night. And driving at night in the rain! Not happening.

"Yes, they might have, but if so they would have called. I mean dontcha think that they would have called?" I said.

"Well, yes, but just call anyway. Maybe the phones lines have been down and in that case you'll get some kind of electronic message when you try," she said. What she said made sense. I made the call.

******

There'd been no answer to my four calls to the house of my parents, and there was no electronic message declaring any outages. Nor, had there been any contact with Ronald; and yes I called him after having failed to get hold of our parents. Of course, Ronald was surprised that mom and dad would even try to drive to our place, Stacey's and mine, when the weather was so bad.

"But then I did get a call, and it was from Ronald. After I'd called him; he'd called a policeman friend of his. The policeman had checked for a car with the plate number that matched mom and dad's. Ronald having sold them the car did have the car's info and plate number.

The policeman had found the car, or actually found out about the car. It had skidded out and into an oncoming semi. Mom and dad Carter were gone. The sickness, the emotional sickness, that overcame the clan Carter on that day was not to be equaled.

******

The funeral was a somber affair as such things always were. Ronald gave the eulogy; he did a good job though he did break into sobs more than once. Hell, I could relate; I was doing the same in my pew. Stacey for her part was stoic, but ultimately sad; we all were.

And, then there was morning and evening of the next day and life went on.

CHAPTER SIX 2001

I was impatient for the lady to call me. The school was small, but that's what we, Stacey and I, were looking for in a high school. No public school for our baby, well she wasn't exactly a baby anymore, she was thirteen, gonna be fourteen soon.

"Mister Carter?" she called. I rose from the waiting room seat I'd been occupying and went over to her. She handed me the papers: Jenna's class schedule and a short list of other things we had to get taken care of: the standard health clearance and the transcript from her junior high.

"Thanks," I said, "when do these have to be in by if I may ask?"

"You should get them in as soon as possible," she said, "no later than the end of the month though."

"Okay, noted. And thanks," I said. She nodded and looked to call the next parent waiting to get his or her kid admitted to Victorino Charter School.

It was still fairly early in the day, a little after 3:00PM. Stacey would still be shopping. She had Jenna with her. Well, school supplies were something of a personal thing with a lot of students Jenna among them.

I decided to drop by the Spur and have a beer, maybe two.

"Whatcha have, Mister Carter?" said my good bud Hammond Greely, head barkeep at the establishment.

"Just a Lite," I said, "got a little time to kill." The place was sparsely populated at that hour. It figured to get significantly more so after rush hour.

I was surprised to see a Marianne Woodley come in. I'd gotten the afternoon off to take care of getting Jenna enrolled at the high school, but Marianne surely had to be on duty; she never missed a day that I could recall. I waved her over.

"Hi Girl, Whaddya doin' here; the boss needs you," I said, dead panning.

"Yeah, I had to take some personal time. Hubby dumped me. It seems he needs someone with a younger point of view to help get him through the daily grind: significantly younger actually, like twenty years younger," she said.

"Oh my God," I said. "I am so sorry, Marianne. That's awful."

"Thanks. It happens. Happens to a lot of people. Just another statistic in the long and unmourned history of failed domestic relationships." I nodded. I didn't know what to say to her. I didn't know what her husband could have been thinking: Marianne was a winner: pretty, pleasant to be around, intelligent the list of positive qualities was long.

"If there is anything I can do, just say the word," I said finally. Her turn to nod.

"Again, thanks David," she said.

"So what are you thinking of doing? I mean in relation to him?" I said.

"I guess, trying to get some alimony. Maybe the house too. I'm kind of numb right now. Not sure which way to turn," she said.

"You turn to your friends, and I'm one of those. But, if you can't get enough alimony, and what all, can you survive on what you're making at Ferguson?" I said.

"Barely. I'd probably have to get a second job," she said.

"I might be able to help you there, Marianne. My brother has businesses. He'd likely be able to help you out. I'll ask him about it. Okay?" I said.

"Really?" she said. The hope in her voice was palpable.

"Yes, really. I mean I will have to ask him, but I will do that much," I said.

"Thanks a bunch, Davey, I really mean it. Things are pretty dicey for me right now, and I could use the help, a better job," she said.

******

"He came to me yesterday," he said.

"Who? You mean David?" said Stacey.

"Yes, he asked about a job," said Ronald.

"A job? He wants to quit Ferguson and work for you? My David?" she said.

"No, no, no, no, he asked for somebody else. Seems his coworker is in tough and needs a better paying job," he said.

"What kind of job?" she said.

"He wasn't too clear on that, but from what he told me about her qualifications, probably office manager for one of my dealerships," he said.

"Okay?" she said.

"He's never asked me for anything. And, with what we're doing… " he said.

"Yes, you mean he deserves to have us, you, look upon this as a mandate of sorts," she said.

"Yes, something like that," he said.

"Do you need an office manager?" she said.

"I will have an opening next month when Martha Orson retires," he said. But, I do have a few other candidates for the job, well qualified candidates."

"Hmm, so?" she said.

"I don't know. I guess I could meet with the woman and see whether or not she could handle the job. According to him she's making twenty grand annual right now. If I hire her, her salary would jump to thirty-five grand," he said.

"Okay," she said. "So what if you interview her and she needs a lot of training to do you any good."

"Hmm, that's the deal. She really would have to hit the ground running in that particular job. The office manager of a new car dealership is a fast paced gig, and requires some serious management skills," he said.

She nodded thoughtfully. "Why don't you hire her now, before Martha retires, and get Martha to be her trainer? Yes, her salary would be an added expense, but I think we need to throw David this particular bone all things considered," she said.

"Yes, that might work. At least she'd know what the ins and outs were before she would be thrown to the wolves-figuratively," he said. "Yes, that's what I'm going to do. Thanks."

******

I was back at the Spur sitting at the bar, and I was bearing gifts. I saw her come in. She came directly to me.

"Hi, David, how are you doing today," she said.

"Good, the baby keeps us busy at our house, but it's all good," I said.

"You said you had some news?" she said. I had to smile; the look in her eyes was pure hope.

"Yes, you've got the job. I mean if you want it," I said. "But, my brother said you need to start next Monday for sure. You'll be training with the one you'll be replacing. Her name's Martha, she's retiring in a few weeks, and you'll need to be up to speed before she goes. Sound okay with you?"

"Sure, but…"

"You mean leaving with almost no notice. I mean leaving Ferguson," I said. She nodded.

"They'll just have to understand. The pay on your new job will be almost twice what you're getting now," I said.

"Oh my God!" she said. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, David! I am so grateful to you and to your brother. I'll give notice at Ferguson in the morning. I'll explain everything to Gerald. I think he'll be okay with it. I hope so at any rate. I cannot afford to not take an offer like that."

"Well good. And good luck to you. And, we'll be seeing each other from time to time I'm sure," I said.

******

"So, you hired his friend," said Stacey. "What's she like? Is she going to work out?"

"Yes I did and she's nice and she's evidently more than competent. Martha is high on her ability. That's as good as the pope's imprimatur as far as I'm concerned. According to Martha, Ferguson's should've paid her more, their loss. So anyway, they didn't, and David's rec' was good," said Ronald.

"Well good, I'm glad for that," said Stacey.

"Yeah me too," said Ronald.

"On another note, Jenna and David are going fishing next weekend. You and I will be able to spend some quality time," she said. His smile was a mile wide.

"Sounds real good. Real good," he said. "My place or yours?

"Here, if he calls for some reason, or comes back early it'll be less problematical," she said.

"Hmm, yes, good thinking," he said. He sighed. "I just wish we didn't have to hide. It would be so much better if we could be out in the open about our feelings for each other."

"I know. But we can't, so we make the most of our opportunities," she said.

CHAPTER SEVEN 2001

"This is an anniversary of sorts," he said, looking over and smiling at the naked female fixing herself at the vanity.

"An anniversary?" she said.

"Yes, the fourteenth anniversary actually of the day we first, well, did it together." He said.

"What? You'd remember a date like that?" she said.

"Well, not exactly. It happens that that was the day in 1985 that I got the news that my divorce was final from my ex, Madeleine," said Ronald Carter.

"Oh, well that is something I guess. Anyway, was it good for you today?" she said.

"You know it was. A better question is was it good for you?" he said.

"Of course. We are a pair you and I. I just wish I'd met you first. David is such a doofus. But, it is what it is," she said.

"He's my brother, but if he wasn't, my brother that is; well, I just don't know," he said.

"Ron, if I really were to divorce David? I mean we've talked some you and I… " she said, letting her words hang in the air. His look was nothing if not thoughtful.

"Yes, yes, I'd marry you in a New York minute," he said. "But, he 'is' my brother, and it's hard see how it might play to our benefit if we did that to him."

"Yes, but you're Jenna's biological father. That would have some play in all of this. Anyway, I have been thinking about it. Damn I wish I'd met you first!" she said, changing her line of thinking but really not changing it.

"Me too," he said. "But, you didn't. So, we have to go with the way things are, I guess. Not much we can do about it all unless we're willing to weather the major shit storm that would undoubtedly come of it." She shook her head.

"Ron, I think I am going to do it. We deserve to be happy too. Living like this, I mean us doing what we're doing. Hell, even David deserves better than the cheating whore I've become doing you all the time like I do. And, frankly, I'm tired of sneaking around; I mean fourteen years' worth is more than enough.

"If I do divorce him, and like I say I'm thinking more and more that I will in fact be doing so, I will try to make it as painless as possible for him. I'll give him the house and the savings. He'll be all right. Hell, he'll be better off without me and free to start over with a pretty good nest egg," she said.

"Babe, okay, and yes we both will make an effort to be more than fair with him, even generous. But… " he said.

"But?" she said, looking concerned.

"But, what about Jenna? That might be the real fly in the ointment," he said. She took on a thoughtful look.

"Yes, I see what you mean. Well, for one, she will finally find out who her real father is. Yes, it will be hurtful for David to finally find out too. He'll be in a blue funk for a pretty good period of time; I'm certain of that, but he'll get over it. He'll have to. And, we won't be cutting him out of her life. He just won't be her only daddy figure anymore. Maybe more like what you've been all of these years, Ron, a really doting uncle," she said. He was nodding, but it was a concerned nod.

"Okay. Anyway, let me know what you do finally decide," he said. "Regardless, I better be getting going. He'll be home pretty soon. And, I know you have to do some cleaning up. The place stinks of sex." The two of them laughed.

CHAPTER EIGHT 2001

"Stacey, I just don't know. He's been her father, her only father, for all of this time," said Ronald, "and again, what about Jenna?"

"Yes, all of that is true, but handled right he, we, all of us can get by it," she said.

"I don't know," he said.

"Stacey, there is one other sticking point we haven't considered and I don't know why we haven't," he said.

"What?" she said.

"Getting him to accept that he is only and uncle and not her daddy is a biggee for sure. But, Stacey, losing you to me is going to be a biggee too, maybe even bigger than him becoming and uncle or uncle-daddy," said Ronald. "I know it would be a killer for me, and I damn sure figure it's going to be one for him."

"He's a good looking guy. He'll find another girl to treat him right down the line," she said. "I grant that it will be a stinger for him early on, but if we handle things right… " she started.

"Stacey, how do you figure we can handle this one right? A house and some money won't mean a damn thing to David. He never has cared about money so long as he's had enough to get by. You know it and I know it. We've talked about it often enough," he said.

"There has to be a way, Ron, there has to be. Ron, I know for you it's all about finally being able to be a dad. I understand that, and I hope that we can find a way to make it so David can understand it too. But, doing this, divorcing David, is for me too.

"We, you and I keep saying what a good guy he is. And, on one level he is a good guy. But Ron, he's lacking in a lot of ways. I mean I know he's your brother. And, I'm not bad mouthing him, but there are things about him that darn near drive me crazy," she said.

"What? What are you talking about, Stacey? He's not abusing you is he? I mean I'd never believe that he'd do something like that," said Ronald.

"No, no, God no! Nothing like that. No, it's that he has no get up and go, no ambition. He goes to work, comes home tired and plops down in front of the tube. A couple of times a week he comes up with a case of the hornies and socks it to me. And when I say 'to me' I mean to me not for me. The little shit leaves me hangin every time. If you didn't take up the slack, well… " she said.

"No, Ron, I've got to do it and I mean I've got to do it soon. For my own sanity if for nothing else.

"And you deserve to be Jenna's dad. And, I'm not saying he's not been an okay dad all of these years that would be a lie. He's been fine. Could he have been a better dad? Yes, frankly, he could have. I mean his unwillingness to do better for us economically when it would have been easy for him to have done so. I mean even if all he did was take the job you offered him, he'd be making twice what he does at Ferguson's," she said. He nodded his understanding.

"I see," he said. "So, okay, you're going to do it, divorce him. But, after all we've talked about these past weeks, we still aren't sure how were going to go about it.

"You keep saying were going to do it the right way. Well what is the 'right' way as you term it? Apart from the divorce per se, what else have we got going here," he said.

"Okay, one, we give him the house and the savings, the saving account has more than eleven thousand dollars in it. Next I sit him down and explain the paternity thing too him. I let him know, and that forcefully, that he will still be a major player in Jenna's life, that nobody is trying to cut him out of her life. And we're not, Ron.

"After that I lay out a generous shared custody plan to him; the courts are going to go along with what you and I are going to propose anyway, so that one's a no brainer. Finally, we explain why we will be asking him to assume the role you've had all along: that of a doting uncle, or maybe uncle-daddy as we've talked about; something like that, so that he understands that you're going to be her 'actual' daddy from now on," she said.

"You have done some thinking on all of this haven't you?

"But, 'uncle-daddy'? He's not going to be happy about something like that," he said.

"Ron, you've suffered being out there as a de facto uncle all of these years. I'm just afraid if we don't do something pretty formal to give you your chance to take your rightful place as Jenna's dad, she'll never accept you as such. But really, things won't actually change that much. He'll still be around and loved and respected by us, by all of us. It's just… " she said.

"It's just that I'll be in your bed and he won't, and he won't go to bed any night without crying in his beer about that. I know that as a great truth," he said. She nodded.

"It's all going to come down to whether he goes off on me when I talk to him," she said. "I will be doing my level best to make it easy for him. Hell, what we're going to be offering him is generous, more than generous.

"Yes, it's going to be a hit to his ego; I understand that. But, I will be thinking of some way to more than soften that blow too.

"As for him losing me, well, the truth is he already has. I just hope that he goes out and finds himself another woman to love him and do for him. Yes, he's going to need that. I almost want to do it for him, I mean set him up," she said.

"That is one place you don't want to go," he said.

"Yes, I know that too. And, I'm not. Frankly, the way he is now as I've described him it would be real hard for him to find a woman who'd want him. But, maybe he can change and do better," she said. "But, whatever, that's going to be on him." Ronald Carter nodded.

"When do you plan to tell him?" he said. "And, would you like me to be there? I'd hate to have you weather the storm alone?"

"Soon, very soon, in the next few days. I just have to get my nerve up. Also, I'm going to clue Jenna first. I don't want to be sandbagging her with all of this.

"And, as far as you being there. I don't know. It might look like we were ganging up on him. No, I think I have to do the dirty work alone this time. I will ask you to keep your phone handy just in case. And, I'd appreciate it if you could not be out of town these next days. I might need you. I mean I will need you, but I might need you real fast and real badly," she said. "I do anticipate a deal of screaming and yelling. I mean he has no clue, so he's going to think that this is some kind of a conspiracy against him for sure. And, I guess in all honesty it kinda is. He's going to react and not well."

"You going to tell him that he's been an ongoing cuckold for fourteen years, I mean the details?" he said.

"I hope he doesn't ask, but he likely will. I think I have to be honest about it all with him. What do you think?" she said.

"When he finds out it's me, well, the shit's going to hit the proverbial fan. He might go off on me. I don't anticipate any violence, but worst case, it might happen," he said. Her hands went to her face.

"What! Violence? Surely he wouldn't try to fight you! I mean you are so much bigger," she said.

"No, I don't think he'd try that, but who knows. This is so off the charts that almost anything 'could' happen, go wrong," he said. She nodded, but slowly.

"Jesus, Ron, don't beat him up. Okay. The little guy has not done anything to deserve that. I really don't want to hurt him. That would be just awful!" she said.

"No, no, I'm not going to hurt him. Hell, I just might run away until he calmed down and would listen to reason," he said.

"Okay then," she said. "I guess we're going to go for it. I just hope it will all work out for the best."

CHAPTER NINE 2001

"Jenna come in here for a minute will you dear." Stacey Carter, was pacing the floor nervously while she waited on her thirteen year-old daughter to join her in the den. The TV was on, but nobody was watching it. She grabbed the clicker and turned it off.

"Jenna, what's taking you so long," called her mother.

"I'm here mom, I'm here," said a slightly miffed Jenna, coming into the room.

"Okay, well, have a seat, dear, over there on the love seat." Jenna tendered her mother a questioning look.

"Mom?" said Jenna, taking the seat indicated.

"Jenna, you and I have something to discuss and it's going to take a bit of time to cover it all. But, that's just the way it has to be," said Stacey.

"Huh?" said Jenna.

"Jenna, there are things that you are not aware of, but after we're done here you will be, important things," said Stacey.

"Okay," said Jenna, her tone laced with concern.

"Oh my, this is going to be hard. Jenna, the things I'm about to tell you may shock you, even scare or worry you some. But, that said, never doubt that momma loves you and your welfare is my number one priority. Understand?"

"I guess, sure," said Jenna. "Mom?"

"Jenna, your dad… " started Stacey.

"Daddy? He's okay, right?" said Jenna. Her mother grimaced.

"Jenna, your daddy, well, he's not your daddy," said Stacey. She waited, watched nervously for her daughter's reaction.

"Huh? What? Huh!" said Jenna.

"Jenna, years ago, more than 15 years ago, before you were born, well, I met a man. That man is David Carter. He was a good guy, and well, we were young the both of us. He asked me to marry him. I was ready to be married, and I said yes. But, some time afterwards, his brother, who some time before had been married to a woman named Madeleine and was divorced, came into the picture. That, of course, is the man you know as your uncle Ron.

"At the time, Ronald Carter was still hurting bad because of his divorce even though it had occurred a couple of years earlier. I guess he'd really loved the woman.

"I could tell that he wanted me, and I have to say it; I discovered that I had feelings for him too. Well, and somehow we ended up in bed together. Jenna he had me, and well, I had you. Your uncle Ronald, the man you've known as your uncle Ron, is your dad, your real dad, not his brother David Carter. The man you've called daddy for your whole life up to this point is really your uncle," said Stacey. "David Carter is really your uncle not your father."

"Momma no!" howled Jenna. The older woman waited for her daughter to calm down.

"Momma… " started Jenna.

"Jenna, in the best of all possible worlds this, news, will only have a minimal impact on you or any of us. But, there's more," said Stacey. "And, I need you to be calm and strong, so I can get this all out there for you to understand. Okay?" The young girl nodded, but very slowly.

"The fact is, the man you've been calling daddy, David Carter, does not know he is not your daddy, your real daddy," said Stacey. "I tell you this, because I am going to tell him everything soon, and I need you to not say anything until I have had a chance to talk to him. Can you understand that?" Jenna nodded slowly once again.

"Momma, daddy is going to be very mad; even as young as I am I know that much," said Jenna.

"That's a very real possibility," said Stacey. "I'm going to do my best not to hurt him, but I guess when all is said and done; he'll be the one to understand or not. And, Jenna, one more thing."

"What, momma?" said a now tearful Jenna.

"Jenna, I will be asking your daddy, I mean your Uncle David, for a divorce," said Stacey.

"Momma, but I don't want you to divorce daddy," said Jenna.

"Jenna, I've thought long and hard about this, and what we, I'm, about to do will be best for all of us in the long run. I've gone fourteen years keeping these secrets, Jen. Up till now I've been able to, keep the secrets that is. But, you're growing very fast.

"Jenna I'm five-eight. My, our David, is only five-five. You're still growing and you're already as tall as me. Your real father is David's half-brother, and he's six-two. David, your daddy, the man you've thought of as your daddy, is going to notice. I'm surprised he hasn't already. And there are other markers too, physical markers: eyes, ears, but anyway…

"When he does, the cat will be out of the bag, and me hiding all of this, all of this time, will anger him even more than how it's going to be when I tell him. I think you can see that."

"Mom! This is so bad. I don't want a new daddy!" said Jenna.

"Jenna, David Carter will not be out of your life, our lives. I am going to be trying my best to get him to a place where we can still be a family, all of us. It will be a challenge; I won't kid you, but I will be making the effort.

"The reason I'm telling you all of this now is to prepare you for the changes that are coming. And, also, to get you to a place where you can help me, really help your Uncle David, to understand and continue as a well-loved member of this family. You know, without a lot of anger and bitterness and all of it. Jenna, I guess I have to ask, can I count on you to help our David through all of this; and, help ourselves get through it all as well?" said Stacey.

Jenna jumped up, screamed, and ran from the room. Her mother flopped down on the love seat her daughter had so recently occupied.

******

"You say she ran out on you?" said Ronald.

"Yes, sort of," said Stacey. "It was too much for her; she ran up to her room to cry."

"Do you think she'll go to him, tell him," said Ronald.

"No, I don't think she'll do that. And, it may not make any difference in any event: I will be telling him myself in the next day or two, the weekend latest. Today's Thursday, but starting tonight, Jenna's going to be staying at one of her friend's house for a few days. Actually, she's asked me if she could.

"Anyway, telling David all of this, well, it won't be pretty, but getting it over and done is the best of all of the bad choices, of that I'm certain," said Stacey. He nodded.

"I guess. I'm just, I don't know, kind of overwhelmed by the thought of all that's coming. It's going to be a hard nut for us as well as for him. I feel so bad for the man. He's my brother; we've been close forever. But, after this, I just don't know.

"I was nine when mom married David's daddy and the family Carter was born. David came along almost immediately and I suddenly had a half-brother. And, like I say, we've been close all of this time, but now… " said Ronald.

"Yes, and you've been real close to his wife for a long time too," said Stacey, smiling.

"Yes, that's so. I couldn't and can't help myself. I love you, Stacey, more than anything. I need you more than I can express. Still, I just wish there was another way, a way to break it to David without hurting him. I know we're going to be hurting him big time, I mean really big time," said Ronald.

"Yes, I suppose that's so. But, he's going to find out the truth sooner or later. It's better he find out this way rather than by accident. Our hiding it all, and for all of this time, is bad enough; we need to be in a position to control things to the extent possible. This way, the way we're going to be doing it, will minimize the damage at least a little. It's best, Ron, it's best," she said. He nodded.

"I guess you're right. When does he get home from his work?" he said.

"The usual, I guess, 5:30ish," she said. "I plan to sit him down and lay it all out for him after dinner, or, maybe tomorrow, Friday, or maybe Saturday. I'm still thinking on it."

"I should ask. Again, would you like me to be there when you lay it on him? You know to support you?" he said.

"No, no, I've thought about it, but no, that would just complicate things. But, do be next to your phone these next days. If I need you, I'll call. Otherwise you'll hear from me when it's done. Okay?" she said. He nodded.

CHAPTER TEN 2001

"Okay, Mac, see you tomorrow man," I said.

"Okay, David, for sure. Good job today. Got everything out to the retailers; the boss is real happy," said Macmillan Crowley. I waved him so long as I headed out.

We'd gotten off early, 2:30PM. All of the trucks were loaded and on their way to their various destinations: retailers throughout the southern part of the state. Ferguson Bros. Wholesalers, supplied soft goods, mostly clothes, but also a bevy of small appliances, electrical and plumbing supplies to over two hundred outlets. I loved my job, the people I worked with, and the perks. The money? Could have been a bit better, but I had job security: we were all teamsters, part of Union Local 770.

Getting off early, I discovered that I was thirsty. The Silver Spur, our local sawdust joint, had become my favorite sometime hangout and it was on the way home, oh, and they had Miller on tap. Yes indeed, my thirst was about to end. Then, I'd be going home to the little woman, my daughter and a whole lot of familial togetherness. Yes, it was going to be a very good day; I was certain of it.

I pulled into the lot and immediately recognized Marianne Woodley's car: her vanity plate was like no other, PMS666. I had to smile every time I saw it.

Marianne who used to be part of our crew handling the phones and billing and general clerical, now worked for my brother: I'd gotten her that gig and she'd always been appropriately grateful. It'd saved her after her divorce from her personal asshole. I'd always liked her, everybody did. She also had a great looking ass; well, I was and am an ass man.

It was cool inside and kind of dark. I spotted Marianne at the bar. She had a yellow pepsi half empty in front of her. I decided to join her.

"This seat taken?" I said, plopping down on it without waiting for an answer. She sighed.

"It is now, I guess," she said.

"How the hell did you beat me over here?" I said. "Not working today?"

"No, the boss, let us out of the cage early," she said. I laughed, she didn't.

"Well, I guess it's going to be a good day then for all of us," I said.

"Well, for you maybe," she said. I was finally paying attention to her tone. She was kinda down that was clear.

"Marianne? Something wrong?" I said.

"My ex-husband has been harassing me. Read he's looking to hook up with me again and refuses to leave me alone. I mean after all of this time," she said. "I guess the chickee he dumped me for back in the day aged."

"Anyway, girl, anything I can do?" I said. I liked Marianne. She was tops as far as good people went. Her ex-husband was regretting losing her; I guess it was ever thus.

"Thanks, Dave, I appreciate the sentiment. But, I'll just have to deal with the asshole. I'll figure something out. Not much choice," she said.

"A restraining order?" I said. "And the kids?

"I don't want to have to go the legal route again, the divorce was bad enough. And the kids? They're adults: twenty-one and eighteen. They can do their own thing, I guess, make their own choices. I'll be talking to them tonight. They're both dorming it up at the university. They know what's going on, at least the basics. I don't know if they've even heard from him, but if not I'm sure that they soon will.

"Anyway, how are you doing?" she said, changing the subject.

"Good, our anniversary is coming up in about two more weeks, number sixteen actually," I said.

Marianne nodded, kinda sadly, I thought. Well, it was understandable. I could see she was mentally comparing her situation with mine; hers suffered by that comparison.

******

He was signing some documents and handing them off to a subordinate. "Okay, Jim, you can make the deal. Just make sure the co-signer is gold plated credit-wise," said Ronald Carter.

"The salesman nodded. "Will do," said Jim.

"Hi," she said coming up behind him.

"Oh, hi," he said. "Anything happening?"

"No, not yet, just looking for a little basic support, I guess," she said. "Tonight's the night. Jenna will be out of the house, as I told you yesterday; so I'm breaking up with him now if I don't chicken out and put it off. It's going to be hard; I won't kid you. Truth is I'm still trying to think up some way to soften the blow."

"Yeah, I can dig it," he said. "Stace, you, we, deserve better than we've gotten until now. Hey, even David can come out of this deal ahead if he doesn't go crazy on us and just lose it. He'll be better off financially, and he'll have his freedom. And, while he won't like it much in the initial go, he'll be better off knowing the truth, at least that's what I think."

"Yeah, maybe. That's the hope at any rate. The unrealistic hope," she said.

"Yeah, probably," he said. "So anyway, when? After dinner? And, I know you keep saying no, but really, do you want me there to share the pain?"

"You know, I don't know. I've considered having you there, but…"

"Well, I've got a cell. Call me if you decide that way. I can be over there in ten minutes. But, again, after dinner?"

"Yes, and if I call you come. I figure to be done by 7:00ish. I probably won't know for sure though, what I want to do, until the last minute. Okay?" she said. "And, if I don't call, just hang loose until tomorrow."

"Yes, okay, I understand," he said. "That'll be fine."

******

I left Marianne sitting where she'd been when I found her three hours earlier. I felt guilty leaving her, but I did need to get home. Four beers were twice my usual after work embibeation; Stacey was sure to give me hell me for being late and for being a bit inebriated. Well, I had a good excuse, I thought. I'd been Marianne's shoulder to cry on. Figured that would cut some ice with Stacey this time around.

I came in through the kitchen door, the one off the driveway. She was waiting for me. She was leaning back against the little kitchen table we almost always ate breakfast at. But this clearly was not breakfast time; it was a quarter of 6:00PM. And, it didn't look like dinner was on the agenda either. Dessert maybe, but dinner no. She was absolutely stunning.

She was wearing the shortest of her summer dresses, and the sheerness of it created instant titanium in my underpants. I shucked my coat real quick. I came to her. I knew I didn't smell too good after a day in the warehouse, but she'd brought this on herself, so she'd have to suffer me smelling bad.

"Jesus! You're beautiful," I said.

"Oh, well, thank you very much big boy. Gonna do anything about it?" she said. I went to her at but little short of light speed.

I wrapped my arms around her and then, of themselves, my hands began to roam. I buried four fingers in the still clothed crack of her ass. The heat was singular. I began kissing her feverishly while feeling her up.

I turned her around and bent her over the table. I flipped her dress up. She wore no panties. I dropped my pants and pushed my skivvies floorward kicking them off in the process. I coaxed her legs apart and she accommodated me. I pushed six inches of steel hard male flesh inside of her. I began screwing her slowly; I knew I couldn't last, but I promised myself that I would get her off with a second go 'round. Either that or orally; I wasn't going to be an asshole today, no siree-boberino!

I did last for some few minutes before I began driving into her with everything I had. I shuddered. She hadn't made it, but I was prepared for that. She tried to straighten up, but I short shanked her urging her to stay bent over. I dropped to my knees and began phase two. I licked and sucked at her slit with a wildness I couldn't remember ever approaching in the past. I felt her shudder and convulse: she'd made it. Thank God! I thought.

I rocked back on my heels. She turned and offered me her hand. "Come on, stud, take me upstairs and do me again. You can do it. I know you can," she said.

"Oh, yeah!" I said. "Oh yeah."

In the room she shoved me down on the edge of the bed and pushed me backwards. She knelt between my legs and sucked and stroked my dick. I was hard again in no time. She was still wearing her sun dress and for some reason that seemed more sexy to me than if she'd been naked.

I took her again missionary. She made it too at least I think she did.

We lay side by side breathing hard, the both of us. I couldn't remember her being so hot, or me either if it came to that. And, for some reason or no reason that little fact worried me.

"Good for you?" she said.

"The best ever," I said.

"Well, good," she said. "I needed you to know just how good a man you could be. That's important to me."

"Well, let's just say you inspired me," I said.

"Hmm, okay, well good," she said. "We'll talk later. I have some things to say to you, and some things to ask of you. Okay? But not now, a little later, maybe tomorrow."

Her tone, her words, something wasn't right, but right at that moment I could not have begun to guess what those might be. More, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. But what was also certain at that moment was that I was satisfied and happy and married to the most wonderful female in the world. Whatever she wanted, well, I wanted to give it to her if I could.

We slept, it was only 7:30PM, maybe a quarter to 8:00PM, but we slept. Well, we had burned a ton of calories, no doubt about that. Later, or maybe in the morning, tomorrow was Saturday, we'd talk as she'd said she wanted.

CHAPTER ELEVEN 2001

I woke up. I had to pee. Her side of the bed was empty. I wondered at that. Well, maybe she'd had to pee too. I looked at the clock on the dresser; it read 3:00AM. The bathroom door was open and it was dark inside. She hadn't needed to pee. She wasn't in our room at all. I called to her, but no answer. I grabbed my robe from the back of her vanity's chair and slipped out of the room and into the hall. I looked over the bannister and down the staircase. There was a light on in the kitchen; I could see its glow quite clearly, and I heard mumbling. She was in the kitchen. Someone was with her. I headed downstairs barefoot and still stiff from sleep.

Nearing the kitchen I was able to hear them more clearly; she had a visitor all right-at fucking 3:00AM! This wasn't good. I hung back around the corner from her, them, in the dinette, to hear what I could hear.

"No, I haven't laid it on him yet. Tomorrow morning after breakfast maybe," she said.

"But, you let him have you earlier tonight?" he said. I was stunned. There was no doubt about it. Her visitor was my brother, my brother Ronald Carter.

"Yes, it was our swan song; he just doesn't know it yet. I wanted to prove to him that he isn't a complete loser that he would be able to find a woman of his own. Yes, I know it was a crazy idea, but I think I did right in letting him have me the one last time. He's going to have enough to deal with without doubting his manhood. I wanted to do what I could to help him with that," she said. "I think I did."

"Okay, but why did you call me to come now. I mean at this time of freakin' o'clock!" said my brother.

"I have packed all the stuff I want to take; it's under the stairwell. I need you to take it and get it the heck outta here. If he goes off on me tomorrow, or breaks down emotionally, I want to be able to get out easily and quickly. I don't want to be hefting bags out to my car while he's crying his eyes out or carrying on belligerently if it goes that way," she said.

"Okay, I see," said Ronald. "Makes sense I guess. I hope he takes it calmly, but like you, I have my doubts that he will. You know, especially about the big thing."

I listened and was sick to my stomach. It was clear to me that in spite of the previous evening of sex, that she'd allowed me, she was intent on dumping me, and that apparently for my brother.

I considered crashing their party, but decided to wait till morning. By then I would be calmer, probably. I'd be doing some thinking between now and then. There was no chance that I was going to be able to sleep in any event.

I crept back up the stairs and let the two them continue with their conspiring. I felt awful and now other things began to concern me. Our daughter, what of her? Our relatives, Stacey's and mine: how were they going to react to the incestuous relationship the two of them were obviously contemplating? And, what exactly did my soon to be ex-brother mean by 'the big thing'." Dumping me for him wasn't big enough! I had a very bad feeling about this last, and I didn't even know why, not yet.

I pretended to be asleep when she rejoined me in bed maybe twenty minutes after I had left them to their little conspiracy. She did not cuddle with me, but she clearly wasn't interested in me anymore, so that little bit of marital neglect made sense.

******

Breakfast was a quiet affair. She was clearly uneasy. Well hell so was I. She'd gotten up before me. She'd made waffles and bacon for us. In spite of my upset relative to what I knew was about to go down; I was hungry. My decision to wait until this morning and to think things over, well, that is the things I so far knew about, had been a good idea. I was collected if not exactly calm and cool.

"The breakfast was good," I said. "Thank you. You're the greatest and not just in bed." I was actually smirking. I was about to get my walking papers and I was smirking; what the hell was that all about!

"Uh, thank you, David. Nice of you to say," she said. She was clearly off balance. I wondered if I was going to get the straight of it or if I was going to get a pack of euphemisms and lies. Well, at least nobody could claim that the situation wasn't interesting.

"Dave, I have something to talk to you about. You know like I mentioned last night," she said.

"Yes, right, I remember," I said. "So…"

"Dave, I know this may hurt you, but I want a divorce," she said. I leaned back in my seat. I used one of the cloth napkins she'd set out to dab my lips with.

"Excuse me?" I said, deadpanning. "So last night was just some kind of joke, is that it?"

"Heavens no. It was something I wanted to do with you one last time," she said. "You've been a good and honorable husband all of these years, but I have fallen in love with another. Actually, I have been in love with another for a long time."

"Oh yeah?" I said. "So who is it, and why are you announcing this to me now? Why not long before if you've been in love with another for so long a time, as you say," I said. She looked disconcerted. I don't think the conversation was going as she planned or thought it might.

"David, why are you acting like this? What's going on?" she said. I decided to come clean, it didn't make any difference, and it might get a truer version of things if she knew I knew stuff.

"Because I overheard you and my asshole ex-brother conspiring against me last night," I said. Her hand went to her mouth. I'd stopped her.

"Oh my God! How I must have hurt you," she said. "Davey, I am so sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said. "Just do me one last favor and forget the phony bullshit, okay. Just give it to me straight, the truth, I mean," I said. She sighed and began to pace back and forth in front of the sink.

"The who? Well, I guess you've already figured that one out. The why," she said. "Because there is no doubt that you were going to figure it out, the why, before too long, and then it was going to be infinitely worse. This way, my hope is that we will be able to salvage our family relationships, at least on some level, with a minimum of blowback."

"How do you figure? You're fucking him right, my ex-brother?" I said. "That's incest if you didn't know it. That's definitely going to cause a typhoon of blowback among family members no matter what I do, think, say."

"Maybe not," she said. "And Ronald is not your ex-brother. He's your blood that's not going to change."

"He was technically my half-brother, and I'm officially writing him off forever. Oh, and you're dreaming if you think that there won't be any blowback from your incest, and his," I said.

"Nevertheless, your blood," she said. "And, he cares about you. Believe me when I tell you that, but…"

"But?" I said.

"David, this is going to be the worst for you. I know it, and I would have, and still would, do anything to save you from this, anything within my power," she said.

"Get to it, Stacey, stop beating around the bush; you're killing me," I said. And, she was, killing me that is.

"David, you are not Jenna's father; Ronald is," she said. Well, I knew what it was now, the big thing. And, looking at her at that moment, there was not a scintilla of doubt in my mind that what she said was true.

I just stared at her. I didn't trust my voice.

"I'm sorry David. I met you first. I was ready to be married and you asked me, and looking at you at the time, I thought, well I thought, you'd make a good lifetime mate. But then…"

"But, then my ex-brother came into the picture and you began cheating on me," I said. I figured it had to be something like that. Ronald had always been a womanizer. I smiled.

"You're smiling. Can I count that as a good thing?" she said.

"Depends. I can get by your cheating, Stacey, even, as is obviously the case, the fact that I have been an unknowing cuckold all of this time," I said.

"Okay?" she said.

"Shared custody, equal custody of my daughter. He might be the sperm donor, but I have been there for her all of these years not him. She's my daughter too. More mine than his if we come right down to it," I said.

"David, Jenna will be living with us. Visitation? No problem, but… " she said.

"But, you intend to cut me out of her life, at least mostly. Right?" I said.

"Heavens no! You will always be a part of our family life. Just as…"

"Just as?" I said.

"Well, just as Ronald has all of these years," she said.

"Huh?" I said. I was missing something, but could not have immediately said what that something was.

"You'll always be welcome at the house. You'll be what Ronald has always been to her, a well-loved uncle, a very special person in her life, just as you have always been a very special person in her life," she said.

"Uncle? Did you say I'd be her uncle? Not her daddy?" I said. I was speaking quietly but I know my eyes were narrowed into very angry slits. I think she shivered, but that might have been my imagination.

"A very special one," she said.

"Trust me soon-to-be ex-wife, we're going to war. The courts will be deciding this one. I will not accept being a mere uncle to the little girl I have loved as my own daughter for thirteen years. The only thing that would cut me out of her life, as you are clearly conspiring to do, would be for me to hear from her that that's what she wants. I'm betting that I will never hear that from her, just from you two incestuous conspirators," I said.

"David, get this. We, Ron and I, are not trying to cut you out of her life. But, Ron feels like he has been left out in the cold all of these years and wants to be a daddy to her. And, frankly, David, I think you can appreciate that. I mean understand his fatherly feelings," she said. "But you will always be there for her, and for all of us; it's who you are. Yes, our roles will be changed some, but not that much really."

"Let me say just one last thing, you know, before you run off easily and quickly," I said. "I will not accept anything less than shared custody, not without a fight. And, I will fight that one to the bitter end and beyond. Believe it!"

"Dave, think it over. We need to talk again when you're calmer. Okay? But okay, I do need to go now. I will have Jenna with me. I'll be picking her up from her sleepover later today, so don't worry about her. And again, you are not being cut out of her life, not at all," she said.

I just stared or maybe sneered at her and what she was saying, I'm not sure. And then she was gone. The love of my life was no more the love of my life; she was the hated enemy. Odd how a love as strong as mine could morph into something so totally different so quickly, but it had.

CHAPTER TWELVE 2001

I had a mission now: to talk to my daughter. The woman had said she wouldn't stop me from seeing her, but would she not? Or, allowing me to see her, would she make it problematical in any event: maybe insist on being there while I was trying to make my case to my child. Well, I guess we'd soon know. But, first things first. I had to get me a lawyer.

I knew that my ex-brother, and he sure as hell was already ex to me, would use his money to hire some big legal gun to get his way, and hers. But, I had a possible counter move I could make. The son of my boss was a lawyer, a criminal lawyer, but maybe he could help me with my situation in any case.

******

I sat in the outer office waiting for his current meeting with a potential customer to end, so I could be ushered in to see him, Milton Ferguson, CEO of Ferguson Bros. It was Saturday, but a workaholic like Milton Ferguson was virtually always on the job.

Milton and I had been friends for a long time. He'd been to our house, Stacey's and mine, a number of times for barbecues and other events. He'd even been to the baptism of Jenna so many years before. He was in fact her godfather. I was hoping that his son, Nathan, would help me. I couldn't afford him, but I had a plan. The plan was but embryonic at the moment, but if I were lucky it might blossom into something more concrete after I talked to him. At any rate that was the hope.

The office door opened and my boss and his new customer were shaking hands. Good, Milt would be in a good mood. I watched quietly while the customer turned and went out.

"David, come in come in," he said.

Milton and his brother Gerald, the company CFO, had founded the company thirty years earlier. Milton and I had become friends in spite of our totally different place on the social register. Milt was a people person. Gerald, on the other hand, was taciturn and friends with few; well, he was a money man and a money man only. The good news for me was that I never had to deal with Gerald, well, there's an upside to everything.

"Thanks, boss," I said. I entered his office and waited for him to enthrone himself behind his desk before taking the seat in front of it.

"So what's happening, young man," he said. I spread my hands in an it's a monster deal gesture; he picked up on it. Well, Milton was nothing if not good at reading people.

"Dave? What's wrong?" he said. I decided to get right to the point.

"Stacey is leaving me and, at the least, wants to minimize my position with my daughter," I said. Yes, I know that was maybe an exaggeration taking into consideration what she'd actually said, but I had gotten a very bad feeling from her tone and look when she laid it all on me.

"Excuse me! You and Stacey! I mean you're quits?" he said.

"Seems so, yes. She laid it on me this morning. There's more, but that's the bottom line," I said. "Boss, I need a couple of favors if that would be all right."

"Okay, tell me," he said.

"I'm going to need some time off until I can get things a bit more straightened out than they are at the moment. And… " I said.

"And?" he said.

"And, I wondered if your son, Nathan, might be willing to take my case on a contingency basis," I said. "I figure to sue the sonovabitch ex-brother of mine, he's the other man in the picture, for alienation of affection." My boss nodded gravely.

"I see. Well, as for the time off, sure. How much time do you think you'll be needing?" he said.

"I figure a couple of weeks if that would be all right," I said.

"Okay, I can set that up for you. But as for Nathan, he doesn't do domestic stuff. He's pretty much committed to criminal law," he said. "I'm pretty sure he could recommend someone for you though. In fact I'm sure of it," said Milton Ferguson.

"Okay," I said.

"You say it would be on contingency? Meaning if you won the alienation case the lawyer, whoever it turned out to be, would get his then?" said Milton.

"Yes, my brother's a millionaire; I can't compete with him on any level when it comes to money. He's sure to be going to use his cash to pay for the best he can find out there lawyer-wise," I said.

"Your bother then is the other man as you say. You mean Ronald?" he said.

"Yes," I said. He whistled.

"That's a big assed wow," he said.

"Worse, I found out this morning that he was the sperm donor for Jenna," I said. The look on the older man's face was nothing if not one of pure shock.

"Oh my God," he said. He picked up the phone and punched in a number. "I'm calling Nathan right now. I know he's working today. You'll have an appointment with him before lunch."

"Thank you, boss. I really need to get the ball rolling at the earliest possible moment," I said.

"Absolutely," he said. The call went through and the older man swiveled in his chair away from me to talk to whoever was on the other end, likely Nathan Ferguson himself.

Call completed, he swiveled back to face me. "I wasn't able to get you in before lunch, but I was able to get you in 'for' lunch. The Holiday Inn on third at noon," he said.

"Thanks a million, boss. I won't forget this. I won't," I said.

"Not a problem, David, and good luck. I know how bad these sorts of things can be," he said.

We parted company and I headed out and across town to the Holiday Inn. I still had two hours to kill, but I didn't have anywhere else to be. My wife was with her lover, and would be with my daughter by day's end which bothered me; but, I was going to do my best to minimize the impact of that situation immediately if not sooner!

******

I finished my second manhattan and was watching the overhead TV monitor. The Red Sox were ahead of the Yankees three to two, bottom of the sixth.

The man slid onto the stool next to mine. "You're David Carter if I'm not mistaken," said the man.

"Yes, sir, I am. You must be Nathan, Nathan Ferguson," I said.

"I am that," he said. "My dad gave me but few particulars. A divorce action, right?"

"Yes, but mainly a custody battle and an alienation of affection lawsuit. I think she intends to cut me out of my rights as a father. She thinks she can do it because I, as I found out this morning, was not the sperm donor; her lover was, fourteen years ago," I said. My bar mate nodded gravely.

"Let's move this little confab over there," he said. "It'll be more comfortable and a deal more private." We headed for the booth he indicated.

Seated, I laid it out for him.

"So, the other guy, your brother, was the sperm donor, but he never paid any child support. He's just been Uncle Ron all of these years?" he said.

"Yes," I said.

"And, you had no clue about any of this these past many years?"

"No, nothing," I said. He nodded.

"Okay, I have someone I want you to talk to, and yes, I know this is on contingency. She's my associate, and she is very good at what she does which is all family law. What can be done she will do. I have to tell you, that while what the two of them have done to you is shit, the only thing the judge will likely look at, as far as custody is concerned, is the welfare of the child. You'll get visitation, but how much or under what conditions, well, that's going to be up in the air until whatever judge you get finally rules. As for the alienation of affection suit, that's usually a toughie, but in this case, well, I think you actually have a solid case. Anyway, Her name in Winifred Clark, and she is good," said Nathan. "Call her. Tell her I sent you."

******

I made the appointment with my new lawyer by phone for Monday; well, I was anxious to get it done. I definitely wanted a short court date as far as the matter of custody was concerned. I wasn't going to give them a chance to undermine me with Jenna.

But, lawyer or no lawyer, for the moment I was dependent on the two cheaters; and, I hated it. I gritted my teeth and made the call.

"Yeah, I want to see my daughter if she's there. Okay?" I said, that in answer to his hello. I figured the woman would have already picked her up from her sleepover.

"Uh, David, okay," said my ex-brother. "When you coming over?"

"I'll pick her up in half an hour," I said.

"Uh, just a minute, okay." He evidently put down the phone because he didn't react to my "I don't have a minute."

"David?" said my wife, now the party on the other end of the line.

"Yes, I'll be over to pick up Jenna in half an hour unless you two are planning on blocking contact with her by me," I said.

"David, we had something going, but okay this time. Half an hour?" she said. "Can you give me an idea when you might be bringing her back?"

She'd stopped me momentarily with that one. It occurred to me that she was already assuming that she would have physical custody of our baby. I decided to call her on it.

"In a couple of hours, unless she opts to stay with me instead of you, that is until the court makes a decision in the matter of custody one way or the other," I said.

"David, you need to get over your anger. I promise, that if you help us out here, we, Ron and I, will do our best to make things good by you. Please! Okay?" I said. I was steaming.

"Half an hour," I said, and I hung up and that not too gently.

******

She was dressed very nicely as she came down the walkway from my ex-brother's semi-mansion. Well, he was a millionaire. I'd not seen the clothes she was wearing before. Momma had undoubtedly already taken her shopping. She was only thirteen or I'm sure her new would-be daddy would have had her driving a new Vette for damn sure. Bribery would be his modus operandi; I was sure of it.

"Hi baby," I said, as she got in the car.

"Hi dad," she said. I smiled at that, her calling me dad. I wondered what she was calling him. Well, I guessed I would know the answer to that soon enough.

We headed for the IHOP near our house, the house that used to be home to the three of us and now was home only to me unless Jenna opted to be with me.

Seated and having ordered, we stared at our place mats.

"How's it going, honey girl," I said.

"Okay," she said.

"Jenna, I'm your daddy; you can talk to me tell me anything. Okay?" I said.

"Okay," she said.

"So, can I ask you something?" I said.

"Uh-huh," she said.

"You're mom wants you to stay at your uncle's house? Would you like to come home tonight and be with me?" I said. I was holding my breath.

She was looking down. I had a bad feeling.

"Jenna?" I said.

"I only got there today, Daddy. I was at Marlene's house until last night. Momma picked me up from there today, and we went shopping. We were gonna go to the zoo this afternoon, but momma said you wanted to talk to me," she said.

"Yes, yes I did. Well you can imagine," I said. "But tell me would you like to stay at our house, you know, until the courts say or do something?"

"Momma says I will be staying at their house, hers and daddy Ron's," said Jenna.

"Daddy Ron's?" I said. I guess I had my answer as to what she was calling him.

"Yes, daddy. Momma says he's my real daddy. I know about that stuff, dad, sperm and a woman's eggs and everything. I'm thirteen," she said.

"So you're calling me daddy and him daddy too?" I said. I wasn't sure how I was feeling about that. My soon to be ex had seemed to indicate that I was going to be cut out of the daddy category, but maybe so far, at least, not.

"Yes, but… " she said.

"But?" I said.

"Momma says I'm supposed to call you uncle, but I can't daddy. I mean, I know that daddy Ron is my real daddy, but so are you aren't you?" she said. She was being so earnest that in any other situation it would have been comical.

"Well, your momma is wrong. Your Uncle Ron, was the sperm donor, but we, you and I, have been daddy and daughter forever, and that's not going to change. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, daddy," she said.

"But again, where would you rather stay, until the court tells us what to do, our house or his?" I said.

"I guess with momma, daddy. Is that all right?" she said. I was a little hurt, but at least she wasn't letting her mother's dictates rob us of our father-daughter relationship, so far. I wonder if my wife really was duplicitous enough to try and force her to defrock me of my fatherhood.

We ate and talked, and I made a concerted effort to try and make her feel good being with me. I took her back to the cheaters. I got a kiss from her as she exited my car. I watched as she headed up the walkway away from me. Oh, how I hated the two of them!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN 2001

The meeting with Winifred Clark was anything but boring.

"Nice to meet you she said. Nathan told me you've got a really, what, complicated situation," said Miss Clark.

"Oh yeah, I said. Really complicated and I didn't know where to turn. Anyway, I explained my problem to my boss, Nathan's dad, last Saturday, and he, well, here I am," I said.

"Yes, here you are. Why don't we begin by you giving me an overview of your situation if that's all right," she said. "Then, I'll ask you some questions and we can then look at what your options might be. Then, that done, we'll put together a plan of action. Sound okay to you?"

"Sure bet," I said. Over the next half hour I laid out a time line of all of the events and happenings right up to and including my meeting with my daughter. My new lawyer raised an eyebrow at my description of that scene, but said nothing initially. But then she did.

"To describe your situation as, well, a situation, is pretty much an understatement," she said. "Heck, I've seen soap operas with less pathos."

"Yeah, really," I said.

"There's good news and bad news, David. The good news is that the judge will guarantee your status as 'a' father of Jenna, but likely not her only father; there is really no doubt about that. You've been that to her forever, and that is going to be recognized by the court. The bad news is, your wife will likely get physical custody of Jenna year 'round. You'll likely get visitation, and I will fight to expand that, but overall they, the two of them will be in a position to influence your daughter at least to some extent. You say her lover, your half-brother, has money?" she said.

"Yes, he's a millionaire, car dealerships, four of them," I said. She nodded gravely.

"From what you've told me about their attitude, they will likely use their money and other resources to influence how Jenna sees things and how she acts toward you. But, similarly, from all you've told me, I think it unlikely that they would try to actually vilify you. And…

"I don't see Jenna willingly writing you out of your position as her father, maybe even her main father; but, there may be things she accedes to over time that will rankle in your gut: shining you on at certain ceremonial events, the other guy walking her down the aisle if and when she marries, forgetting important dates: your birthday, Father's day and the like. In her mind, she won't be consciously shunting you aside, but the effect will be the same. If you take my advice, you will remain calm and aloof from such slights as they may occur, and I am fully aware of how hard that may be for you," she said.

I sagged back in my seat. "You said you might be able to expand my visitation rights from what is usually the case?" I said.

"Maybe, that will be a main thrust of my efforts for sure. Can I ask, is there any way you might be able to get the two of them to lighten up and not get in the way of a joint and equal custody request by us?" she said.

"Not according to my wife. She seemed adamant that I would be relegated to second class citizenship when it comes to my baby," I said. "I can ask again, try again, but I doubt if they'll budge."

"Okay, well make the effort anyway. We need to be able to tell the judge we tried. Okay?" she said.

"Okay," I said.

We talked some more and settled a few things, including my alienation of affection suit. But, the most immediate thing for me, at least in one respect, was to go for a short court date. I did not want this thing, the divorce, and the custody battle tied up with it, to be dragged out any more than was absolutely necessary. And, then the meeting was over, and I was left to cry in my beer.

As much as I hated my wife, at least I was telling myself that I hated her; I still needed her. I still loved her too; there was no escaping that reality. Love, hate, confusion, desperation all of it was my lot. All of that added onto what the two of them were going to try to do, as I saw it, to come between my daughter and me. I did not deserve this, any of it!

******

I got the word less than a week later: we got our short date. It seems that my ex-wife was going to cooperate at least to that extent. And while it is what I wanted, her giving in to me on this particular point, and that so easily, worried me; it worried me a lot!

Just thirty-days from the date of her filing for the divorce, we were in court for a hearing. We stared at each other from across the room. Well, I stared, she just smiled at me and seemed to be sending me the message that she was my friend. Well, we'd see about that.

"The court will come to order, the honorable Preston Daniels presiding. You may all be seated.

I watched as the two of them made their statements; I guess that's what they were. The judge acknowledged them. Then, I was called. Winnifred had to encourage me to go up and tell my side of things. Odd the lawyers didn't do much or say much themselves, not in court at any rate. I made my statement; then, it was time for the judge to do all of the talking.

He addressed himself mainly to the last two things, the last bones of contention between us, between me and Stacey and my ex-brother.

As regards the divorce petition filed by Mrs. Carter, wife of David Carter. I hereby grant it since it is not contested by Mr. David Carter. The property settlement shall be as presented to me and is, again, not contested by Mr. David Carter. But now, as regards the two remaining issues.

My primary concern is for the welfare of Jenna Carter age thirteen. I have talked to Jenna and she has held forth that she loves her father of thirteen years, David Carter very much. But, she has indicated that she would prefer to reside with her mother for purposes of physical custody and permanent residency…"

I sank back in my seat. Winnie, Winnifred, had warned me that the mother usually got physical custody, but hearing that Jenna had okayed it hurt. It hurt a lot, an awful lot. I felt myself about to vomit, then, I did. The hullabaloo that ensued held up things for a quarter of an hour while I cleaned up and straightened myself out in an adjacent restroom. I don't know who mopped up the mess I'd made on the floor and seat.

"Are you okay now, Mr. Carter?" said the judge. I nodded. I didn't trust my voice, his honor didn't push it. My now ex-wife had a very concerned look on her face, my ex-brother too if it came to that.

"Mister Carter, you have been Jenna's daddy for all of this time. I would like to say that visitation by you shall be unlimited and without restriction, but practicalities require that I structure things to be as fair as might be. This, bearing in mind the psychological and physical welfare of Jenna Carter.

"Mister Carter, you shall be entitled to have Jenna with you one weekend a month, which weekend shall be as agreed to by you and your now ex-wife, Stacey Carter. Additionally, you and your ex-wife will alternate holiday custody, also as shall be agreed to between the two of you. Finally, Mr. Carter, You will be entitled to have Jenna reside with you for two weeks during her school's summer vacation, which schedule shall also be agreed to by you and your ex-wife.

"Now, as to the matter of Mr. Ronald Carter, the biological father's rights. I have been appraised of the fact that he shall be marrying Stacey Carter; hence, his place in the scheme of things is not at issue. Should this proposed marriage not take place or should any of the main factors in this divorce change substantially, this court stands ready to revisit its decisions.

"And lastly, the matter of alienation of affection on the part of Ronald Carter. It is clear to me, as would be the case per any reasonable person, that mister Ronald Carter did indeed alienate the affections of Stacey Carter from her husband David Carter. An award of $250,000 is hereby granted to Mr. David Carter in this regard." I noticed that even my rich ex-brother winced at the judge's ruling.

"Court adjourned."

I sat stock still. I didn't care a tinker's damn about the award, only about the custody issue. Winnifred, sat with me saying things, but I really didn't hear her, or, hearing, understand what she was about.

I had expected it, her, Jenna, staying with them. Deep down I had expected it, but it was a shock nonetheless. I couldn't process her choosing him over me, not over the long haul. No I couldn't.

"You going to be all right, David?" she said, finally. I looked up at her and nodded. Truth told I didn't even know what I was nodding about. She patted my arm and then I was alone. The courtroom was empty except for me.

Finally, I rose to leave. It was after 5:00PM. Outside, the corridor was empty; well I thought it was, at first. Them I felt someone tug at my sleeve.

"David, I'm sorry," said Stacey. I looked around at her. I glanced left and right looking for him; he wasn't there. I just stared at her.

"She chose him," I said. I started walking away, but slowly.

"David, he's her father, but she chose me, her mother, not him. David, we have to talk. The judge said we have to make decisions together, about visitation. David, I know what the judge said, but you won't be limited to just what he said. We can work things out so that they are way more generous to you. Okay?" she said.

"She chose him," I said, repeating myself. "Please just leave me alone. I need to be alone."

"David this isn't all bad. You got a quarter million in there. I'm giving you the house and the savings. For godssake what else can I do!" she said.

"I don't care about your damn money. The lawyers might, but I don't. Get that lady, get that! Now get away from me and leave me alone. She chose him!"

"Oh my. Okay, David, but we, you and I, need to talk. Okay?" she said.

"She chose him."

******

Outside of the courthouse I squinted in the sunlight that reflected harshly off the white stone of the buildings. I didn't quite stumble down the steps but almost; I was still sick to my stomach.

A blue Sentra pulled up to the curb where I was about to cross the street to hire a cab that I'd noticed stationed there. Winnie had driven me down, but I had opted to not have her drive me back. I needed to be alone.

"Get in nephew," said my Aunt Delia. Delia Carter, matriarch of the clan since my mom had died. Sixty years-old, gray haired, short, feisty, and always in the know; well, almost always in the know.

I wanted to be alone, but, Aunt Delia? She, I knew, would not be giving me any euphemistical pap, and, I was more than persuaded that she would be on my side. I got in the car.

"How are you doing, David?" she said.

"I just lost in there, Aunt Delia. I'm not doing real good," I said. She looked at me and smiled.

"Your day will come, David. The two of them have made a tremendous blunder. They just don't know it yet," she said.

"It's not them, and their doings that are the problem," I said. "Well, it is, but not the one that's killing me. Jenna chose that man over me. She told the judge she wanted to stay with them."

"More like she said she wanted to stay with her mother. I know you talked to Jenna about all of this. You had no clue from her?" she said.

"No, but that was weeks ago, and since then, when I've been allowed to see her, nothing. Just daddy daughter stuff. You know, McDonald's, the movies, the park that kind of thing," I said.

"When do you see her next," she said.

"Not sure. I'm supposed to work that out with the woman," I said.

"You mean Stacey," said Aunt Delia, in a slightly reproving tone.

"Yes, Stacey," I said. "She's the woman."

"Davey, I know you still love her. She's made a big mistake. He's not the man you are. Oh, he's a business tycoon and all of that, but that is just so much fluff and feathers. You're actually a good man. A man who would never betray his love or his responsibilities. Those trump money every time," she said. "It will take some time, but Stacey will come to realize her error and that's a fact."

"Yeah maybe," I said, my tone conveying no confidence in my words. She smiled at me.

"Davey, do not become morose or depressed over this. You must show your strength. Show them that you are the strong one and the one who is in the right. They'll have to respect that, and they will have a deal of thinking to do about their actions," she said. "Be strong nephew, be strong."

We talked for some time, as she drove us slowly to the house where I still resided. I felt a bit better than I had after the scene at the courthouse, but only a bit.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN 2001

In spite of Aunt Delia's words, I was still down mentally. I just couldn't come to grips with the fact that my daughter wanted to stay with them, especially him. I knew he'd be buying her off, literally. New clothes, new female stuff, new everything. I couldn't compete with him in those kinds of things. All I had was love for my baby, and, for my wife, my former wife. I hated her and loved her at the same time. I would die for her and she knew it; she had to know it. Could he, my ex-brother, say as much?

Why had she done me this way? He was taller and better looking, okay, those were givens. But he'd long been a womanizer! She knew that too. And, I knew that he'd be cheating on her sooner or later for sure. And yet, she'd dumped me for him. The judge said that she and I would have to talk at some point. I guessed that that would be so. When we did, I would be asking a few more questions of her, well, maybe. I had to hope that she'd be straight with me, and at least give me some measure of closure for all of the stuff she'd done to me. Well, we'd be seeing.

******

I was pretty much a psychological basket case since the divorce. And seven months after being conditionally declared single, I got the official papers saying the divorce was final. I got drunk, well, why the hell not. A reason to celebrate right! Also a reason to cry my baby-ass eyes out and I did both: drink and sob. The big news was, as would eventually become clear, that things were going to get infinitely worse and that long before they'd be getting better. Well, it was ever thus I fucking supposed.

The Silver Spur wasn't busy when I came in, for the fortieth night in a row. Anymore a good percentage of my paycheck was dedicated to the economic growth of the place. I hadn't gotten my name engraved on my favorite bar stool yet, but I figured it had to be only a matter of time before I would be so honored.

"Evening, good buddy," said Hammond Greeley, head barkeep at the Spur.

"You too, Ham," I said. "Got something around five hundred proof for me?" I said.

"Maybe eighty or a hundred, ran out of the heavy stuff," he said, smirking.

"More's the pity. Well, gimme what yuh got," I said.

"You got it, man," he said.

I watched the other early arrivals beginning to get into the scene as I sipped my Smirnoff blue label and nibbled on the pretzels my favorite drink master kept in front of me.

My favorite partner in misery came in about mid-second drink. I waved her over. "You look good Marianne," I said. "I mean for someone who absolutely knows how miserable I am."

We'd talked a lot over the months since my divorce from Stacey. She acted as kind of an emotional anchor for me as I had once acted as one for her.

"So what's up?" she said, plopping down on the stool next to mine. "Anything new?"

"No nothing special. I've decided to get me another place. I gotta get outta that house. I've only stayed in it this long for the kid's sake. But, lately she doesn't seem to want to be there that much either, don't know why," I said.

"Hmm, probably too many memories?" said Marianne.

"Maybe. Anyway, I guess I'm gonna sell it and use my half of the money to get into a condo some place. The other half I'll be sending to the cheaters," I said.

"I thought you said she gave you the house outright. Kinda of a consolation prize for her shitting on you," she said.

"Yeah, but I ain't takin' nothin' from her and sure as hell not from him. What they did to me is never going to be forgiven or forgotten, not ever," I said. "No assuaging their betrayals or guilt with gifts, if they even feel any guilt, not even!"

"I can dig it, Dave, but on another level, you really need to let her go and get on with making a new life for yourself, same as I did," she said. "Did you decide what to do with the cash award you got?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. As for the award, after taxes I split it all with my two lawyers, Nathan and Winifred; they each got a hundred grand. I didn't want any of that either."

"Shit, that was a heckuva a lot of money to be dumping." She said.

"Yeah, I guess, if you care about money. I don't want anything from either of them, and I mean anything," I said.

"I'm a woman, David, we know about this stuff a bit better than you men. Like I said, you need to dump the baggage and get on with your life. Things will even out in the long run, depend on it," she said, and then she giggled. I had to wonder what she thought was worth giggling about. I didn't ask.

"Yeah, well, I'm convinced of the truth of that," I said, but I said it sarcastically. Now, she laughed outright.

I liked talking to Marianne. She was one woman that I trusted. Her and Aunt Delia were about it though.

******

My talk with Marianne actually decided me. I listed the house on the following Monday. I listed it to sell fast; I wanted out of there. My next days would be spent packing and getting ready for the move. I was actually getting anxious, looking forward to it.

My weekend with Jenna was coming up in three days. My ex and I had met a couple of weeks after the initial court date for a total of twenty minutes and made up my official visitation schedule. And, no I didn't get any of the questions I'd intended to ask answered; that because I didn't ask them; I was too chicken, go figure.

At any rate she'd, had Stacey, made an attempt to use the occasion of us meeting to get me to talk about, things, other things that were on her agenda; but I'd shut her down. I didn't need the aggravation of her trying to get me to 'lighten up' as she'd termed it. Or, of being around her, seeing her, smelling her, I just wanted her the hell away from me at the earliest possible moment. She appeared frustrated by what I'm sure she saw as my stubborn intransigence; that was just too damn bad.

At any rate, I was ready for my time with my daughter. This little time would be packed with stuff to do. My new digs were smaller than the house we'd all been living in the past fourteen years and that caused a small inconvenience. Jenna had not taken everything with her to her new home. There were things she would likely want to pack, things she might want to throw out, and other things she might want to give away. At any rate, Friday night I would be taking her to dinner and Saturday we'd do the packing and such. Sunday we'd kick back, maybe even go to the Verde river and picnic; I liked going to the river; it was calming and pretty and rugged and, well, fun. For sure there'd been precious little fun in my life for most of the last ten months.

******

They delivered her right on time. One thing about the two of them; they were never late in delivering Jenna.

"But, where have you moved to?" said Jenna, after I'd given her the news.

"Not far, baby. Got me a condo. It'll be easier for me. Since your mom and you have left, I don't need so much space," I said. She looked askance at my words.

"Daddy, I miss you, but it's hard being there and being here. Kids at school know you and mom are divorced. It's hard having to keep talking about it all of the time. That's why I hardly ever have my friends come over to the house anymore. Mom is pushing me to do that but I don't want to not yet," she said.

"Hmm, I understand," I said.

"What about your Uncle Ron?" I said. And, yes, my words were kind of an indirect test as one might have said.

"Daddy, he's daddy Ron now. He's my real daddy," she said. "But you're my daddy too," she said in kind of a hurry.

"Oh, yeah, okay," I said. I wanted to scream that the shithead hadn't been there for her all of these years, so to my mind he didn't qualify as any kind of a daddy. A wannabe maybe, but not a real daddy.

We did picnic at the river on Sunday, and it had been a good idea. She was talkative. Seems like her mom and the asshole were being kind of strict with her. They didn't like some of her friends. I wondered about that. I wondered if that had something to do with the two of them wanting her friends to come visit at their house. Maybe wanting to check the friends out, kinda up close and personal.

I delivered her to their house at 6:00PM. Like every other time I'd delivered her it was a sad moment. Invariably Stacey would come down and try to engage me in light banter, her way of breaking the ice, I supposed. I never spoke more than a few inane words to her and rarely even got out of the car. She for her part accepted my reticence to talk, but always seemed more or less disappointed if not actually exasperated. She knew I was still hurt and that it would be a long time before I got over how she'd done me.

The good news was the house had sold quickly. Thirty one days after listing it, it was in escrow. Forty days after that title passed to the new owners and a check for sixty-one thousand dollars had passed to me. I sent $30,500 to her. That got me an unexpected visit.

******

It was a Wednesday evening. I was just heating up a Lean Cuisine dinner, Portobello Steak, when the doorbell buzzed. I answered it.

"Stacey! What are you doing here? Is Jenna all right?" I said.

"Yes, yes, she's fine. I have a big ass problem you need to help me with," she said.

"A problem?" I said.

She handed me an envelope. One already stamped, sent, and received, by her. "What's the meaning of this!" she said. Seeing the envelope, I finally knew what she was about.

"You're entitled," I said. "It was half yours. So, half of the equity is yours. I don't want anything from you or him that isn't mine."

"You were given the house in the original divorce settlement. You signed it," she said. "It's yours, all of it, the equity. And okay yes, I decided to give it to you because you deserved a little payback for all of those years that you were an unknowing cuckold. And also yes, I felt and feel guilty about what I did to you, and so, giving you the house was partly for my peace of mind. Okay? David, just take the money; you deserve it. Okay?"

"Never," I said. "I don't need it and I don't want it. What you two did to me can never be forgiven or sure as hell forgotten. You wanna buy a little peace of mind? See a priest. I don't have any, peace of mind that is. So, I'm not into helping you find any."

"Davey, you've got to get by this. We all do. Holding on to all of this bitterness is not good, not good at all," she said.

"Hmm, maybe not, but it is also beyond my power to do anything about," I said, "especially with you trying to cut me out of my role as daddy to my baby!"

"Davey, Davey…"

"Stacey, it's been a year since you dumped me. I have not had a date with a woman, not even spoken to one apart from a few folks at the Spur. I think about you every night, every night, Stacey. I need you, and I know I can't have you ever again. You have no idea how that sits with me. And then, you trying to sabotage my relationship with my daughter…

"Anyway, go back to your new man and let him comfort you. I'm not in the mood to take money from you and call it comforting. Don't come back, Stacey; it's too hard on me. Okay?" I said. She shook her head but slowly.

"David Carter, I just… "she started, and then she left, hurriedly.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN 2002

It was held in a big church, their marriage ceremony. I didn't get an invitation, but I was there anyway. I was incognito, but I was there. I shouldn't have been; it made me sick. Watching them be all happy and loving, but most of all it was Jenna who hurt me, though of course she didn't know it. Watching her making all silly around him and her, hugging them, saying sweet things to them, smiling at them, joining in the general hoopla; yeah it was hurtful. I snuck away like the wimpy little nothing I thought myself with my tail between my legs. I hadn't been seen.

Notable by her absence at the ceremony was Aunt Delia. I thought that significant. I wondered if she'd gotten an invitation. I could not imagine that she hadn't but who knew.

******

She was stripping but slowly for him as he lay, still fully clothed on the bed. Down to her bra and panties, she moved toward the bed and stood beside it. She smiled saucily at him.

"Well," she said, "you just gonna lay there staring. It's our wedding night."

"Hell no!" he said. He didn't quite leap from the bed and grab her. The kisses were savage and long and promising. She rubbed her loins again his thigh, and he pulled her in tighter to intensify the feeling.

"God, you're a hot piece," he said.

"Well, if I'm so hot, maybe you'd want to be getting undressed so you can fuck me. Whaddya think?" She said.

He didn't even bother to answer her as he began a rather hurried disrobing of his tuxedo.

They lay panting and sweating after two rounds of intense screwing.

"Good for you?" he said. "Worthy of our wedding night?"

She looked over at him. She knew what he meant and it was way more than the words themselves denotatively conveyed. Oh yeah, way more.

"Yes," she said. "It was way better than my first one. Way better. David was, and is, good at some things but sex is not among 'em." He laughed.

"Jenna seemed happy today," he said. "That made me happy. I think we're making progress there."

"Yes, I think you're right. We need to reinforce those feelings as much as possible," she said.

"That we will," he said. "Think your ex will come around?"

"I don't know. You did notice that he was there today didn't you?" she said. He looked up.

"No!"

"Well, he was. He did his best not to be recognized, but I saw him and recognized him almost right away. I kind of expected him to come, so I was looking for him. I don't know why he came, had to be hard for him, but he did," she said.

"Jesus! Hard? It had to be brutal for him!" he said.

"Hmm, I would guess so," she said, "especially him seeing Jenna all into it and everything."

"Oh yes!" he said. "Had to be a killer given his attitude toward us and after learning that I was her real father and all."

"Exactly," she said. "Well, it's his decision to be a pill. At some point he has to grow up and get a life. He could do it. He'd just rather torture himself and play the martyr or whatever. I've about lost patience with him."

"Yes, and frankly, me too," he said.

"You know, I think Jenna's pretty much fed up with his whining as well. I don't talk about it with her, but she is less and less wanting to go over there anymore. If he doesn't straighten up; he's gonna lose her. I can see it coming," she said.

"Maybe," he said, "maybe."

******

"He was there?" said Jenna.

"Yes," said Stacey. Her daughter's look said it all for both of them.

"I wish dad would stop being sad all the time," said a slightly irritated Jenna.

"Dear, your Uncle David, was hurt pretty badly by everything that's happened. We need you to be extra nice to him, make him feel like he's still a part of the family, a big part," said Stacey.

"Momma, please stop calling dad, uncle. Okay?" said Jenna. "He's my daddy too. Just like daddy Ron."

"Honey, I know what you're saying. But, well, daddy Ron, deserves to have that honor now, don't you think?" said Stacey. She could see her daughter was trying to come to grips with all of the complications the adults were putting out there, and, she was not succeeding to any great extent.

"Mom, why can't I have two daddies? Lots of kids do," she said.

"Honey, daddy Ron loves you very much and wants you to be really happy. He wants Uncle David to be happy too. But, he is asking for you to want to be his child now, not Uncle David's.

"When you are with your uncle, do you call him dad?" she asked.

"Sometimes," said Jenna. "It's hard to just change, you know?" said Jenna. Her mother nodded.

"I guess," she said.

"Mom, can we go shopping tomorrow. I need some stuff," said Jenna. Her mother's eyes lit up.

"Of course, honey. Whatever you want or need," said Stacey. That she, they, were spoiling their daughter did not seem to register with them.

******

It was a good weekend weather-wise, but that was the only thing good about it. They were clearly trying to buy my daughter's love and loyalty. Computer, Ipad, the latest techno-phone: she had it all. And those in addition to an unlimited wardrobe account. Had to be ten thousand worth of stuff in the year since the divorce was final. Jenna was almost sixteen now. I wondered if I was going to get an invitation to her coming out party. I'd heard from her that one was being planned: Jenna bragged about it to me. Ha! I wondered if they thought that she wouldn't tell me. Well, if they did, they were sadly in error.

They were so obvious doing what they were doing it was embarrassing. My thing was to emphasize the things that money couldn't buy. I saw to it that she and I were always doing and having fun in the doing. Jenna seemed to get it too, but as for that I really couldn't know for sure. She did, in more recent times, seem to be something. Something I didn't quite get. But then again maybe I did.

Whenever I asked a question or made a comment about the cheaters, Jenna seemed to become, what? Maybe disengaged if that would be the way to say it. At any rate, it seemed that way to me. The cheaters were making progress in gaining Jenna's support against me. Was I being paranoid? Maybe, but it was what it was, and that was the long and the short of it. And, then I had a meet up that was more than interesting.

******

I hadn't been laid in the two years plus since the night I'd last done my wife. I was horny, and then I was at the Embassy Club, a gentleman's club that sported really pretty near naked babes.

I was sitting at the bar nursing a manhattan. She slipped onto the stool next to me. She looked familiar, but it was my third manhattan, so maybe not.

"You don't remember me do you, David?" she said. I looked and looked again.

"No, I don't think so," I said. "She seemed to know me, but it was the first time I'd been at the Club, so I had no frame of reference.

"Madeleine," she said. "Madeleine Carter. We used to be related."

"Madeleine? Maddie? Ronald's wife?" I said.

"Well, not for some seventeen years. But, yes, his ex-wife. How is the old asshole?" she said. I snickered.

"A bigger asshole than when you knew him," I said. She raised an eyebrow at my tone of voice.

"Really," she said.

"Yeah, he's married to my ex-wife now. Oh and he, they, have custody of my daughter. I get tokenism; they get my baby, oh, and each other." My bitterness was definitely showing through.

"Oh wow!" she said. "So he's still chasin' 'em. I was twenty-seven when I unloaded him. Him twenty-five. Kind of a hit to the old psyche if you know what I mean; I mean his philandering."

"Yeah, I do know what you mean, and for the record I hate the sonovabitch," I said. "So what are you doing in here?"

"Serving drinks mostly but dancing a little on slow nights. Still got a pretty good shape, so the boss lets me show it off some. The tips are good," she said.

"Dancing?" I said. "You mean…"

"Yeah, I do. The pole, over there," I said. My gaze floated to where a girl, clearly barely out of her teens, was near naked sliding up and down the brass pole that was situated in the center of the stage. I had to smile.

"Well, yes, you do still have the goods," I said.

"Thank you," she said. "So anyway, his cocksmanship is into incest these days."

"Yeah, he is," I said.

"What does the family have to say about that?" she said.

"Most of the family is on the east coast and kind of out of the mix. The few that are here, are looking askance at it, but not really making waves. Aunt Delia thinks they'll crash and burn at some point, but I'm not holding my breath," I said. She nodded.

"You know," I said, "I'm hungry, any chance you'd have dinner with me. I've been a little short of feminine companionship this past couple of years, and…"

"Hmm, sure you want to be seen with a whore, David?" she said.

"You saying you do it for pay?" I said.

"Sure, not a lot, but occasionally. I need the money, and before you ask, no not for drugs," she said.

"Anyway, to answer your question, no problem for me if you don't mind being seen with a loser like me," I said. She laughed.

"Okay then, let's go," she said.

Lunch at Denny's was followed by an afternoon of etchings analysis at her apartment. And she etched the hell out of my back with her fingernails; and, I loved it.

"Wow, you really haven't been getting any have you, David," she said. "I can tell by your level of desperation."

For some reason her words didn't upset me. Anybody else saying the stuff she was saying would have stung, but for some reason, again, her words did not. She was what? Interested maybe. Yes, interested but not judgmental.

"No, nothing. Outside of work, I haven't been able to function for some time. I mean since the divorce," I said.

"Well, you did me good. Don't lose my number," she said.

"Thank you, and I won't lose it," I said.

My chance meet up with Madeleine was cathartic for me. It didn't solve my problem with the two baddies, but it did do a lot to restore my self-confidence. And, it was clear to me that I actually had made a new friend, and so had she. Oh yeah, so had she.

I wondered what Jenna would think of my new friend. The point was probably moot. It was unlikely that the two would ever meet, but who knew.

And, there was something else. My chance meet up with Madeleine brought it home to me. I felt myself mellowing out some. Oh, I was still bitter, but I was no longer as overwhelmed as I had been.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN 2002

"Mom, I have a thing going with Marlene and the pep squad this weekend. I know da-Uncle David will understand," said Jenna. Her mother nodded. This would be the fourth time in the past several months that she had missed her weekend with her Uncle David. Stacey was concerned about him going off on her. She was sure he was going to blame her or Ronald for Jenna's neglect. But, she was certain that it was her ex-husband's whininess and depressed state that was driving a wedge between him and Jenna.

"Okay, okay, but your uncle is going to be upset; I hope you know that," said Stacey.

"No he won't, mom. I'll call him and explain things to him. Okay?" said Jenna.

"Okay, I guess. I'm not going to force you to go, but you best call him like you said," she said.

"I will, I will," said Jenna.

******

The call from my daughter was short, to the point, and hurtful. I was beginning to get the message that she wanted to be with me less and less. Gee, I wonder why that might be! The obvious answer to why was my exes' influence, my ex-wife's and my ex-brother's. I think they actually despised me and no doubt wished I would just disappear. I was sure she was thinking that way if not him. But, I was not going to disappear. I was at the least going to be a thorn in their collective sides for the duration. Oh yeah. I was about to call her and tell her what I was thinking and what I intended to do about it, but, then she took matters into her own hands: she showed up at the warehouse, at lunch time.

"Whaddya say, David, let me take you to lunch?" she said. I stared at her as at an apparition, a ghost. There'd been a time when she would show up at the warehouse at lunch time maybe once every couple of weeks, and I'd be taking her to lunch. It was always a small surprise, her showing up, and a pleasant one. This one figured to not be a pleasant one, but she said she'd be payin' and what the hell, a free lunch was a free lunch.

"Yeah, sure if you're payin'," I said.

"Let's go. I'll drive," she said.

"We're going to Denny's?" I said.

"Whatever," she said. Denny's used to be our lunch destination of choice. I was sure she'd moved up in class since she'd dumped me and married my rich brother, but as to that maybe not.

We were able to get a booth at the back away from the foot traffic if not the buzz from the lunch crowd.

"Been a long time," she said.

"Yes, that's so," I said.

"We should do this once in a while," she said. "I mean if you'd be amenable." I didn't respond, to her offer.

"Why are we here, Stacey? I mean besides to have lunch." I said. She sighed. Just then the waitress came up with the menus and asked what we wanted to drink. The interruption was timely, I guess, from her point of view. We ordered our ice teas and took up the menus to scan for what appealed to us.

Menus down. She folded her hands in front of her and gazed purposefully at me. "We need to get along, David. This endless cold war we're engaged in isn't useful," she said.

"Why?" I said.

"Why what?" she said.

"Why do we have to get along? You've gotten Jenna to almost write me off. I know it's you. She doesn't even want to come to my place anymore, that's obvious," I said. "You've got her brainwashed, you and my asshole ex-brother. The way I see it, you've won. Be happy."

"Goddamn it, David, we have not brainwashed or tried to brainwash Jenna. You are right about one thing though; she really isn't thrilled to go to your place anymore. But it's you not us that is causing her reticence! Get that, big guy. It's your doing!"

"Oh yeah, right," I said. "You're not plying her with an endless parade of goodies. You're not taking her places I could never afford. You're not enticing her with memberships in country clubs and who knows what else. You're buying her and spoiling her, Stacey, it's so obvious that it should be embarrassing even for you!

"Oh, and I'll have a patty-melt and a double order of fries. I mean if you can afford it," I said.

"No problem, big guy. I can afford it. I'm rich as you keep reminding me," she said, more or less sarcastically. I smiled a sardonic smile; I felt like I'd stung her, well, a little.

We ate mostly in silence. And, oddly it was more or less pleasant in spite of the tension between us. Lunch done she ordered us coffees. I smiled my appreciation.

"Lighten up when you are with her, David. She'll want to be around you then. Just like in the old days," she said.

"Except you're trying to sell her on the fact that I'm only an uncle; kinda puts the kibosh on things getting back to anything like the old days. You know those days when I was a daddy!" I said, my voice rising a decibel or two. She looked away, and then she looked back at me. She seemed determined.

"David, it is what it is. You are in fact her blood, but her uncle, not her father. Why is that so hard for you to accept can I ask," she said.

"Are you serious!" I said.

"David, we all love you. As far as I'm concerned you will always be a part of our family. But, things are different now. You can call yourself whatever you want, but the reality is what it is. If you could just get by your stubborn…"

"Fuck you, Stacey. I'm going." I got up and marched out. I'd hoof it the mile and a half back to the warehouse. I didn't want to stink up her fancy ride. And just like that I was no longer mellowed out.

******

The buzzer in the warehouse sounded as usual at 5:00PM. I had been thinking of the things my ex-wife had said at lunch. How it was my fault that I was losing my daughter. After my hard breathing and spit dribbling rage passed, I calmed down. I had to allow, grudgingly allow, that some of what she'd said might be so. I needed a second opinion. I headed for the Embassy.

I knew Madeleine's shift ended at 6:00PM: she was the day manager anymore. Too old now, as she told me, to do the pole thing. For the record I disagreed with her assessment of her suitability to do the pole thing, but she'd just laughed when I'd voiced my more than defensible opinion.

"Well, well, well," she said, coming up to me as I took my seat at the bar. I get off in half an hour. You here to take me to dinner big boy?"

"That would be a big assed affirmative," I said.

"Well good. A half hour then. Want a drink to tide you over?"

"Just a coffee if you have any back there," I said.

"Probably down to the dregs by now, but I won't charge you for them. Be right back," she said.

She delivered the coffee; it wasn't too bad just a little strong. She wandered off after that to do her shift closeout.

We were on the road less than thirty minutes later. The Holiday Inn, the same one Nathan Ferguson and I had met at was our destination of choice. The buffet was going to be just what the doctor ordered, so Madeleine assured me.

Entering we paid and made the gastronomic tour filling our plates with the night's offerings.

We were half way through our meal, and well into the most mundane of conversations when I felt something strange, a presence. But, I couldn't define or identify it. But there was something. Or, maybe somebody, yes, somebody watching us. That's what it felt like. I looked around.

"David?" said Madeleine.

"I'm not sure, but I feel like we're being watched," I said. She looked around. Other patrons were talking, eating, consorting, but no one was apparently watching us; none that I could see at any rate. I gave up the search cursory as it was.

"My imagination," I said. "Had to be." My dinner mate snickered.

"Hmm, maybe," she said.

"What are you doing next Saturday evening?" I said. Saturday was two days hence.

"Nothing. You asking me out?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I said.

"Okay," she said. "I haven't been getting a lot of requests for my company in recent times. So yes."

"Good," I said.

******

"You're kidding," said Ronald.

"No, I'm not. Shocked me too," she said. I was just leaving after having had dinner with Sarah Laughlin. She and I are almost done with the plans for the church fundraiser.

"Anyway, I, none of us, have seen her in a lot of years. I almost didn't recognize her. But, she still looks good, just more mature. She looked to be fourteen when you were married to her."

"Well, they're both adults. Maybe she'll let him get his rocks off. Might help him to lighten up about things," said Ronald.

"Hmm, if only it were that simple," said Stacey. "Let the wimpy little shit have some ego resurrecting pussy, and he stops his insufferable whining? What a delightful thought. Jenna is not the only one who's tired of it, the whining."

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"No guessing about it. Lately every time I drop her off at that place of his he gets in a little dig. Jenna picks up on it too. She's told me that I should say something to him. I do that of course whenever I can, but I avoid her seeing me do it. I am at my wits end trying to not compound the problem," she said.

"Yeah, I understand," he said. "He's still hurt real bad, and we hurt him, but he does have to get over his anger. I mean it's been forever! I've decided, and yes it's me doing the deciding here: we gotta let him keep his place as a daddy of sorts. It may not do any good, but it's worth a try.

"I'll talk to Jenna about it myself," he said. She nodded. "I think she calls him daddy about half of the time anyway."

"Yeah, I think she does," she said. "I really did think that him switching roles with you would make it easier for her to see you as her daddy. I thought, I was afraid, that if we didn't do it, switch roles, that you would always be second in line. I still think it could go that way if we blow it," she said. "Ron, I don't want you to be second in line. You deserve to be her dad, every bit as real a dad as David ever was. I know you suffered all of those years. It's time for you to take your rightful place as her father, as you have as my husband."

"I want that, Stacey, I won't kid you; but, we've got to end this familial war first. It's giving me ulcers for crying out loud, and I'm not kidding. I didn't tell you, but I went to the doctor's the other day. I've been having trouble peein' and I do have the beginning of a peptic ulcer and maybe kidney problems. I know that at least the ulcer is stress related. Stress caused by our community nit wit!" he said.

She laughed. "Yeah, well he is pretty dumb when one gets down to it. He could be marginally rich if he didn't have such an insufferable ego. Me dumping him hurt him; I completely understand that, and he had a right to be angry and all; but it's long past the time for him to be getting a life and dumping all of the anger and bitterness that is ruining him and discomfiting the rest of us," she said.

"I couldn't have said it better," said Ronald.

"This is how we're going to do it," he said. He laid out the plan and she smiled her agreement with him.

"Yes, I think your idea is likely the best we can do to get him to start getting with the program," she said. "Anyway, it can't hurt. He still won't be happy with us, but he might lighten up a little, so we can all at least get along."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 2003

"I am dropping you at your daddy David's, right?" said Stacey.

"Yes, yes, Mom I'm willing to see his complaintmanship this weekend. He's taking me to the movies. At least I get to choose. Not much fun, but better than sitting around waiting for him to complain or ask stupid questions all the time," said Jenna.

"Jenna, don't be that way. It'll be relaxing for you. You could use a little of that, time to relax. You and those friends of yours are gone too much these days," said Stacey.

"Okay, mom, okay," said Jenna.

"You're calling him dad now aren't you?" asked Stacey. "You know like me and daddy Ron asked you too."

"Yes, yes, I'm calling him dad. He acts more like a kid brother though. Can I call him kid!" said Jenna, laughing at her own attempt at humor. Her mother gave her a look.

"Jenna, stop it. If you're having problems with your unc-dad, tell him what's on your mind. But for godssake stop all of the nonsense. Okay?" said Stacey.

"Okay, okay," said Jenna. "I was only kidding."

"Okay, get your stuff together; we'll be leaving in half an hour," said Stacey.

******

I saw her pull into the lot in front of my apartment building. That was usual whenever she delivered Jenna. What was not usual anymore was the fact that she was getting out and following Jenna up to my place. Usually she just dropped her and waited till Jenna got to my door before she pulled out and away. Well heck, that's fair for sure because that's pretty much what I did too.

"Hello, David," she said. I looked at her. I didn't scowl.

"Hello," I said. "Something wrong?"

"No, I just thought I'd come up and say hello, maybe sit down with you for little bit," she said.

"Huh? Sit down with me?" I said. "I mean our little lunch at Denny's, not so long ago, didn't work out so well. Why would you want to continue the game?"

"No good reason. Just thought it might be a good idea, and that was then this is now," she said. She glanced over at Jenna.

"Dad, talk to mom, okay," said Jenna. I nodded and stood back from the open door to allow them in. I did note that Jenna calling me dad did not seem to grate on my ex; I wondered about that.

The woman had never been inside my place before and only a few times as far as the door. I wasn't exactly ashamed of my digs, but I knew they suffered majorly in comparison to where she was living now.

"Nice place," she said.

"Have a seat," I said. "Want a cup of coffee, a soft drink?"

"Coffee would be nice," she said. "I mean if it's already made. I don't want to be a bother."

"No bother, I said. I was playing this little tableau by ear. She and I had not had a civil, or at best, a barely civil word to say to each other in quite a while. But this, now…

Jenna disappeared down the hall. Putting away her stuff, I supposed. I headed into the kitchen. I did have to make a new pot of coffee. I started it perking and went back in to her.

"How have you been, David?" she said, as I reemerged. I had a really hinky feeling with her being so, something.

"Okay. The coffee will be a few minutes. I made a new pot," I said.

"Dave, I know this may seem a little strange me being here, sitting here, given everything. But, I just wanted to see you, talk to you a little bit. It was a spur of the moment decision; I made it in the car on the way over.

"I have to say; I was afraid, well anyway, I decided to risk it," she said. I had to smile.

"Really," I said.

"You're smiling can I count that as a good thing?" she said.

"I guess. But…"

"Yeah me either," she said, reading my mind. "I mean I'm not sure how to act either."

Yep, she was reading my mind. Well we had been married a long time. I guess she knew me even if, in the final analysis, that I hadn't really known her.

"You're going to the movies?" she said.

"Yeah, Jenna likes 'em, I try to do things she likes when I can," I said.

"Oh, okay," she said. "Good."

We talked for some little time. And yes, I did remember the coffee, and we did have a cup. Nothing we talked about was of any importance, but it was the first time in a long time that we'd communicated. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. But, point for her team, I guess. She'd gotten me to not go off on her.

"You and mom talked," said Jenna, emerging from the back room, her room, for the first time since she'd, they'd, arrived. I had the thought that she'd hung back and listened in, but I didn't ask or push it.

"Yes, a little, as you saw, I'm sure. Was that your idea?" I said.

"No. I was kinda surprised too, I guess," said Jenna. I nodded.

Strange, the whole scene had been strange. Was there a thaw in our relations? Not really, it was kind of like opposing armies having a Christmas grog together but then going back to their respective trenches to continue the fight.

What was not so strange, though it would have been in the old days, was Jenna's attitude toward money and the things that money could buy. Anymore, she was always showing up with some new trinket, machine, wardrobe item, something; "always" being the operative term. I couldn't match the two cheaters' financial resources, but I did try to do things with Jenna that she liked. I knew she especially liked chick-flicks so we saw a lot of them. Boring for me, but her thing, so we went to see them.

The one thing that bugged me was that damn phone Jenna had. It was state of the art of course, and almost always in use. I wanted to toss the thing into the deep blue sea, but it was the one thing that had almost religious appeal to her. And, her conversations with her friends were all but endless, secretive, and generally hilarious in content if the giggling and outright hysterics I was witness to on Jenna's end were any indication. And, when I say I witnessed such demonstrations, I mean that I witnessed her hilarity in the kitchen while she was confabbing in her room; she was that loud. Well, at least she was happy when she was with me; I counted that as a good thing. Well, I had until five minutes ago.

I had gone to the store to do some heavy shopping. We were out of everything she liked. But, fate being fate, I had forgotten my wallet. So ten minutes out, I turned around and came back to get it. I wish I hadn't. Jenna was on the phone, but in the living room. I'd come in through the kitchen door. She hadn't heard me, but I'd heard her. Oh yes, I heard her.

"No Marlene, I'm stuck here for the whole weekend. Uncle David gets me one weekend a month. Boring, boring, boring but what can I do; he did raise me, I guess, so I'm stuck like I said… No, no, no we're going to the stupid movies again… Yeah, next weekend I can do it. Tell Chester that he can have me next weekend… that oughta keep him hard for the week… Hahahahahaha…"

I was stunned. They'd, had my enemies, won. I no longer had a daughter, not in any sense of the term. Well, I had, but she had evidently dumped any semblance of me as a father to her. Uncle she'd called me.

My wife, my ex-wife, may have wanted, for reasons I could not guess, to soothe things over with me; but while I had momentarily considered softening my stance in that regard, I no longer did or would or whatever. I'd be talking to her, my ex when I took my niece home Sunday night.

My new awareness of what my daughter thought of me left me in a bad situation. I still loved her that would never change. That she apparently no longer loved or cared much about me was on her, and, them. I would just be there, out there, filling the role of an unappreciated relative. I would no longer be crying in my beer or continuing with the battle I'd been waging, since the court had come down on me, that to be my daughter's daddy.

*******

We had gone to the movies, because that had been the plan; and, I had watched her more than the flick itself. She was indeed bored that was sure. Boy had I been operating under faulty assumptions.

We'd talked and eaten but had otherwise not socialized much. She apparently hadn't noticed. Well, her phone had commanded the vast majority of her time and interest. I was just a bystander in the great scheme of her teenaged sentience.

I pulled up in front of their way too ostentatious digs and got out. Jenna looked at me.

"Dad?" she said. "You're getting out?" I smiled, it was the first time in a while that I hadn't essentially run off as soon as I delivered her; and I had even more rarely gotten out of the car even when Stacey had uniformly come down to collect Jenna and say a few words to me.

"Yes, Jenna, I need to talk to your mom," I said. "Would you mind getting her for me?" I said. She gave me a look that spelled suspicion.

"Okay, sure" she said.

Jenna disappeared into the house. Two minutes later a, what, surprised Stacey came striding out and down the driveway to where I had parked. I was ready for her.

"David? Is everything all right?" she said coming up to me. I shrugged.

After I'd heard Jenna on the phone denigrating me, that's how I thought of her words, I'd secreted my mini-recorder in her room to hear what I could hear of her next conversations, but more, so that I could have her mother hear what she thought of me. I figured it would save time.

"I have something I need you to hear," I said. I handed her the device. "I'll be going now. You can keep the recorder and listen to the recording at your leisure. Have a nice day"

I'd been home no more than fifteen minutes before I got the call. I'd considered not taking it, but I decided I better or I might have gotten a visit.

"Yes, hello," I said.

"David, I am so sorry. I know she didn't mean any of it," said Stacey.

"Sure she did," I said. "I'm just an uncle now, and as you heard not a very well thought of uncle. You've won, Stacey. She doesn't need to visit me anymore. That's what I waited around here today to tell you when you called as I knew you would. Have good life you and your asshole."

"David please, listen. You can't just cut her off like that. She's your… " she started.

"She's my what, Stacey," I said. "Niece? Daughter? What were you going to say?"

"I was going to say daughter since you ask," she said. I started to laugh.

"You almost sound convincing, Stacey," I said. "I say almost."

"Look, David, have you talked to her about this. Does she even know you've recorded her?" said Stacey.

"No. I did it because I happened to overhear her talking to Marlene earlier; that cued me to what she thought of me. So then I set it up to record her next calls so you could hear it too. I wanted to share the experience, the wonderful experience," I said.

"What if she wants to come up to see you?" she said. I shrugged, even though my ex wasn't there to see me do so. "I won't stop her, but I won't be expecting her either. I'm done living in denial. She no longer cares about me, or not very much, so I'm not going to be trying to force myself on her. She can do what she wants.

"Oh, one more thing, and it's not on that recording, but it was something she said to Marlene when I heard her that first time. There's some kid, Chester I think is his name, who is getting into her pants or trying to. You might want to be watching out for that," I said.

Her silence on the line was pregnant. I hung up.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 2003

She watched the two of them as they continued to go at it. She'd been standing there, not actually hidden, but not easy to see either if you didn't look directly in her direction; they didn't.

It was almost funny. She'd known he was a player, well, that he had been. David knew it too; he'd warned her about him at some point; she couldn't remember when exactly, not at that moment, but he had. And here he was, her Ronald, proving the pudding.

"Uh, I hate to interrupt you two, but I need to get in here. I need some stuff," said Stacey. The two naked individuals almost broke their necks turning to see the one interrupting their tryst.

"Stacey!" squeaked Ronald Carter.

"Missus Carter," screamed a shocked, Julie Rumson, their nineteen year old housemaid.

"Stacey, I can explain," said Ronald.

"No need for that right this moment. But we'll be talking or our lawyers will tomorrow. Okay? But, I do need to get some things. So, if you two would be so kind as to take the action to another room. I'll be out of your hair in short order," said Stacey.

The two players in the unfolding drama had been racing each other to get their clothes on and arranged. Julie won the race and was high-tailing it out of the room before Stacey could get the two suitcases she wanted out of the closet.

"Stace, give me a chance, okay," begged Ronald. She tendered him a smile that in other situations would have been oh so welcome, but in this one, not so much.

"A chance? Now why would I be wanting to do that, Ronald? You know, with all of his short comings, the two things I was sure of with David was his faithfulness and his honesty. Looks like, I made a mistake choosing you. I mean even after all of these years doing each other, being with each other, I catch you with that little piece of fluff," she said.

"I'm sorry okay! It was spur of the moment. It'll never happen again," he said.

"Hmm, and why should I believe you," she said. "And would it matter even if you were telling the truth."

"It's the only time in these almost sixteen years that I've done something like this," he said. "I swear it."

"You used to do it a lot in the old days, didn't you, Ronald," said Stacey. He looked down.

"Yes," he said. "But, that was then and this is now. I'm older now."

"Yes, but, still unbelievably immature. For the record, how was she, I mean before I interrupted your playing," said Stacey.

"What? I don't know. She was okay, I guess," said Ronald.

"Hmm, I wonder what she would say if she heard you say that she was just okay," said Stacey.

"It doesn't matter what she'd say. She's history. I will be sending her on her way as soon as I get dressed," he said.

"No, no, we're not firing her because you can't keep it in your pants. But, she and I will be talking," said Stacey.

******

I answered the door, and I could feel the smile crease my face. "Aunt Delia!" I said. "It's nice to see you."

"Well, thank you, David. Can I come in?" she said.

"Oh, oh yes of course. You startled me is all. I'm not conscious yet. Never am on weekends till around 10:00AM," I said. "Yes, yes, do come in for sure." I stepped back to allow my well-loved auntie to come in.

"How are you doing?" she said, putting her purse down on the sofa and taking a seat beside it.

"Okay," I said. "I'm okay."

"And you and Jenna?" she said. I sighed. She had to know the situation. She was here on a Saturday, at 8:00 in the morning. She knew I'd probably just gotten up.

"Well, as to that, it sounds like you already know," I said. She smiled.

"David, do not get overly excited about the things teenagers say and do. They are not capable of thinking very deeply and Jenna is no exception to any of that," she said.

"Stacey clued you didn't she" I said.

"Yes, she was afraid you were on the verge of cutting her off, I mean Jenna," she said. "So she called me to intercede."

"No, no, I'm just at the point where I'm not going to be pushing it anymore. If she wants to be here the door is open. If not, well, that's on her," I said.

"She really got to you, didn't she?" she said. "Hurt you, maybe a lot."

I nodded. "Yeah, that would be a big affirmative," I said. "I mean, a daddy thinks that his kids love him and then, well, they make it plain that they don't; or, not very much. Whatever."

"What is really the case, David, is that children take daddies for granted. It's in the nature of the age group. They never see themselves as needing to reassure their parents, especially daddies, that they're loved. They say and do disrespectful things without any thought or fear of retribution," she said.

"I don't know, Aunt Delia. Maybe you're right, but the things she said were pretty hurtful, as you suggested."

"Want a bit of advice?" she said. I knew what was coming, but, this was Aunt Delia; I'd have to listen and listen seriously.

"Okay?" I said.

"Don't overthink what Jenna said. Just go with the flow. The time will come when you will be appreciated for what you are, a damn good and loving daddy," she said.

"Okay, Aunt Delia. I guess you're right. I won't do any overthinking. It'll be a test for me, but I won't do it because you say not to. Okay?" I said. She smiled her satisfaction at my response.

"Good," She said, "which is the response I'd expect from a real adult."

******

She remembered a quote from her favorite politician, "Trust, but verify." She was just around the corner in the hall when he pulled his bedmate from the day before off to the side to talk.

"Are you going to fire me, Mister Carter?" said Julie. She was clearly worried.

"No, no. Nobody's getting fired, but yesterday was the one and only time. Got it?" he said.

"Yes sir, I understand," she said.

"I have a whole lot of fence mending to do with my wife, and I am not going to risk my marriage in order to cool off my hot pants. I don't blame you, Julie. It was my doing, and I'm sorry.

"One thing though," he said.

"Mister Carter?" she said.

"Missus Carter is probably going to talk to you. She's not mad at you; she's mad at me. Just be up front with her. Hell, she knows it all pretty much anyway; I mean she saw us. So, if she asks you any questions, just tell it like it is, was, whatever. If you try to minimize it or exaggerate or anything, she'll know then we'll both be in hot water.

"God, I don't even know what I'm talking about. Anyway, just cooperate with her. Then, well then, maybe we can put this behind us and get on with the business of getting on. Okay?" he said.

"Okay, Mister Carter," she said.

"Good," he said.

Well, at least he hadn't thrown her under the bus, blame the little nymphet. And it was apparently a onetime deal, a spur of the moment thing, as he'd said.

Stacey Carter was more a less satisfied that she didn't have to worry about him becoming a serial fornicator. But, she would indeed be trusting but verifying in the future regardless. Her husband did indeed have hot pants, but he would be cooling them off with her pussy and nobody else's for damn sure; that is if he wanted his balls to remain attached to the rest of his sentient being.

She waited for the girl to make herself absent, before she came around the corner and pinned him.

"Stacey!" he said, his look clearly indicating his shock.

"That her that just left?" she said, wondering if he'd lie. She noted him swallowing hard.

"Uh-huh, yes," he said. "I was just telling her that she wasn't fired and that you might be talking to her at some point," he said. She nodded.

"I will indeed be talking to her. But, okay, Ronald, you have a get out of jail free card this time around. But next time, well, don't let there be a next time, understand?" said Stacey.

"Honey, thanks. I won't let you down," he said.

"Hmm, maybe," she said. "You best not."

"Where's Jenna?" he said. "I haven't seen her today. Shouldn't she be home from school by now?"

"It's only 4:30. She'll be home soon. She's a senior; she has interests, at the school," said Stacey.

"Yes, and a few of them are boys. You know any of them, I mean what kind of kids they are?" he said.

"She'll be all right. Our girl has a head on her shoulders. She'll be all right," she said.

"Hmm, I hope so," he said. "You know, she's seventeen now. I've been thinking about getting her a car. I mean what do you think?"

"I don't know you and I have talked about it. But, I don't know," said Stacey.

"You just got done saying she had a head on her shoulders. This would be a biggee for her; it always is for teenagers, I mean their first rides," he said. "I'm thinking it might get me, and her, to the place where she starts seeing me as her, if not her only dad, no worse than equal with David."

She laughed. "You're already equal and maybe more than equal with him. A car is nothing but an obvious outright bribe," she said. "But, then again, she is old enough. It would be kinda natural for her to have one. Has she asked for one?"

"No, not per se. But, I've heard her talking to some of her friends on the phone," he said.

"On the phone?" said Stacey.

"Yes, you know, about going places and such. She's always apologizing for not being able to go or take others places that they want to go, that sort of thing," he said.

She was nodding. "But, now, with a car, she would be saying yes to their, her friends' requests," she said.

"Yes. And, I think, if she does indeed have a head on her shoulders as you say, and I must say, I think that I agree with you there; she might be grateful enough to, you know… " he said.

"To think differently about you and maybe us too? I mean she long ago accepted the reality of things. I mean of me dumping David and going with you. But, yes, a car might just put the period on that sentence and put to pasture any doubts she still might be harboring about everything even if only subconsciously," she said.

"So?" he said.

"Okay, do it. But, not something that goes a hundred miles per hour or that she or her friends would want to be doing any racing in," she said. He laughed.

"All cars go more than a hundred these days, Stacey. But, I know what you mean. We'll find something suitable that isn't an obvious race car," he said.

******

She exited from the big Ford pickup and came up the walkway to the house. Her mom was waiting for her.

"Who was he?" said Stacey.

"Just a friend from school. I stayed after today for pep-squad," she said.

"Hmm, well you won't need him to give you a ride anymore," said Stacey.

"Mom?" she said. "He's just a friend. His name's Chester; he's a senior. It's a five minute ride from the school. There's no problem."

"Follow me," said Stacey. Instead of going into the house, as the younger woman thought was going to happen, her mom led her around the side of the house, a good little walk, to where the four car garage was situated.

She saw her daddy Ron standing next to a new car. "Daddy?" she said. He smiled at her greeting this was working out better than he thought, and he'd thought that it was going to work out quite nicely.

"Yes, I am that," he said. "You've got an appointment, the first of the week."

"An appointment?" she said.

"Yes, for your driver's license. Here's the manual for the written test. Read it. Learn it," he said.

"Daddy?" she said.

"Oh, and this is the car you'll be driving once you get the license per se," he said. He couldn't help it. He broke out into a broad smile.

The young girl's mouth dropped. "Huh?" she said.

It was a brand new Cadillac El Dorado. "Oh my God!" she said.

The scene that followed was little less than a riot of pandemonium and laughter and hysterics and joy and all of it!

CHAPTER NINETEEN 2003

I would go with the flow. Well, that's pretty much what I'd figured to do anyway. Aunt Delia adding her thoughts to the mix just confirmed my own thinking. That she'd advised me to not overthink, think too deeply about it all, well, that was something else again; but, I would try to heed her advice; she was a lot smarter than was I.

It was my weekend coming up again. She was supposed to be delivered to me on Fridays' of the third weekend of each month. Tomorrow would be the third Friday.

After my little talk with Stacey about what I'd heard, and, what she'd heard on the recording, I figured she'd try to get Jenna to be more attentive to me; that, in spite of my telling her not to bother. Hence, I was surprised when they, Stacey and Jenna, apparently decided to indeed not bother. She didn't show up. I didn't even get a call this time around.

I wondered if she'd call or just appear on Saturday morning, making her excuses at that time. Well, I had to make a decision of some kind, do something. I decided not to be available. I headed for the Embassy. At least I wouldn't be bored. Maybe I could get me an impromptu date with Madeleine. Actually, I was pretty sure that I could.

"No, Dave, we don't serve alcohol this early and Madeleine doesn't come in until 11:00AM," said Morton, the morning guy handling coffee and breakfast for the early comers to the club.

The Embassy, I'd learned early on was a twenty-four-seven operation, but only served food and non-alcoholic stuff before 2:00PM. I looked up at the clock; it announced the time as 7:33AM.

"Okay, Mort, just coffee and a menu then," I said. "I'm just gonna hang out if that's all right. I want to talk to Maddie when she comes on is all."

"No, that's fine," he said. "Would you like me to call Maddie and tell her you're here?"

"No, no, let her sleep," I said. "I just don't want to be home today. I needed to get out, and well, here is my refuge of choice."

"Okay, I'll get you the menu and coffee," he said. I nodded my appreciation of his efforts.

I wasn't kidding myself, I was upset about being dumped on by my own kid even if she didn't know she was doing it or understanding how much it bothered me that she was neglecting me. But, then again, I guess I was just too boring for her to care very much. I figured that her rich family, as opposed to the poor one, me, would take advantage of that little piece of serendipity.

******

"Your dad is going to be disappointed that you didn't want to be there this weekend," said Stacey.

"No he won't," said Jenna. "I'll call him later okay. I won't leave him hanging, I promise, mom."

"You best," said Stacey. Her daughter nodded.

"Your daddy Ron is going to work with you on your parking," said Stacey. "You've got your driving test in three more weeks."

"Yes, yes, I'll be ready," said Jenna.

"I know you will," said Stacey.

******

"Well, howdy, sailor," said Madeleine, taking a seat beside me. "Mort said you've came in early for breakfast."

"Yes, yes, I did," I said.

"I thought that this was your weekend with the kid," she said.

"It was supposed to be, but she didn't show, again," I said.

"I see," she said. "Did she call?"

"No, not yet. She usually does if she's not going to come, but this time nada so far," I said.

"Hmm, and let me guess, you're peeved," she said.

"No, no, I'm long passed the being peeved stage. I'm kinda just going with the flow, as someone recently advised me to do," I said.

"Probably a good idea. She's still a kid and not very responsible, as is usual with kids," said Madeleine.

"Yeah, I guess, but it does bother me some; I won't kid you. But, there's nothing I can do about it. I was screwed over in the divorce as far as custody was concerned, so not much to do but let it be.

"When do you get off," I said.

"I get off at 8:00 unless we're super busy," she said. I nodded.

"Look if you want, why don't you give me a call around sevenish. I should know then when I can get outta here," she said.

"Okay, I guess that'd work," I said.

"I do wanna be doing something," I said.

I felt a little foolish going to the bistro so early and then just hanging around for hours waiting for Madeleine. But, I'd had to get out of the apartment. The emptiness of it grated on me. But, now I was going back and it was still going to grate on me.

I parked and waited in the lot in front of my apartment like someone who didn't belong there. I got up and headed inside.

I plopped down on the couch and closed my eyes. It was just past noon. My cell buzzed. I looked at the number; it was her. I didn't bother to answer. What would have been the point. I knew what she was going to say. She'd been saying it a lot.

If she showed up, we'd eat something, watch a little TV, and talk. I wasn't enthused.

******

"No mom," I tried to call him. He didn't answer. He's not home I guess," said Jenna.

"Oh boy. He's there, Jenna, and just upset that you didn't bother to call until now. He's got caller ID; he knows it was you calling. You blew it," said Stacey. "And well, you're going to have to clean up this mess yourself. I'm tired of covering your butt with your daddy David."

Jenna sighed. "Okay, okay. But, I think you're making a big deal out of nothing," she said.

"Uh-huh, I only wish that that were true. But, I know it's not," she said.

******

I drove slowly toward her place. She went on ahead in her own car. I would be shacking up with her this night and that was very very good from my point of view. I needed a woman beside me tonight. My worsening relationship with my daughter was getting to be too much to deal with. I'd told them to forget about it if she didn't want to be with me, but deep down I hoped that that would not be the case. But, it looked like, at least for the short run, that that was exactly how things were going to go.

I pulled in behind her car. Her place wasn't large, but it was a lot bigger than my nothing little apartment. I parked and went up to the front door and knocked. She opened immediately.

"Come in, come in," she said.

She could only have beaten me by a few minutes, maybe ten, but she was already dressed for the evening. A mid-thigh slip, no bra, and probably no panties either though I couldn't be sure of that.

"You look good," I said. "I mean very good."

"Well, thank you mister man. A girl can't hear that too much," she said.

"You seen your ex-wife lately?" she said. "I mean in person?"

"Yes. She came by my place. Don't know why really. We hadn't talked except briefly, when she'd drop Jenna, in quite a while, and at Denny's some days ago, but that didn't turn out well; but then she was there at my door." I said.

"Think she might have been trying to cultivate you for some reason?" said Madeleine.

"Don't know why," I said. "She got everything. Why would she want to be cultivating me?"

"Maybe all isn't all that hunkydory at their place. Maybe she needs you to lighten up or something. But, like you say it is hard to know why she'd do that, come by your place like that," she said.

"Hmm," I said. She'd been weaving back and forth while carrying on the conversation, but it was becoming clear to me that she was watching to see how I would respond to her wiggling her hips and butt so slowly like she was.

I got up and went to her. I took her in my arms. She was so soft and pliable. I let my hand trace its way to the crease between her buttocks. I pushed into the crease and felt the heat of her anus. I went to my knees and urged her to turn around. She did.

I began kissing her butt through the silky material of her slip. She laughed, but it was a quiet laugh.

"I like you kissing my ass," she said. "It shows you know your place."

I grunted my agreement with her words. She did have a beautiful ass.

"Lift the hem and do my butt right," she commanded me. "I obeyed her."

I pushed my face between her cheeks and licked and sucked on her little brown place. She tasted wonderful. "You taste fantastic," I said.

"Thank you," she said. "Follow me." I started to get up and follow her orders. She turned and pushed me back down on my knees.

"No, follow me on your knees, my little man. Show me how well you know your place." I did as she said. We headed down the hall to the back bedroom, me on my knees with my face but inches from her butt.

She went to the bed and lay down upon it. She spread her legs and smiled at me. "Now, get up here and master me like a man. Take me," she said. I shed my pants in record time. I crawled onto the bed and positioned myself between her legs. I loomed over her and pushed my spike at her slit which was already oozing female juices. I slid inside of her.

"Oh my," she said. "That feels so good. Now, screw me. Be slow and steady at first then speed up when I tell you to. Got it."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. She smiled her approval of my willing obedience.

******

The aftermath of our night together was good. Madeleine Carter was a very good piece. The good news for me was that she wanted me. I couldn't say the same for my ex-wife, but this woman did. God knew why, but she did. I decided to risk upsetting her and ask.

We lay not quite gasping in the afterglow of our second go 'round. "Maddie, can I ask you a question?" I said. Her gaze met mine.

"Sure," she said.

"Why?" I said.

"Why what," she said.

"Why me? I mean a quality girl like you. A looker like you. You could have any guy. So why a mediocrity like me?" She looked surprised.

"A mediocrity? That's how you see yourself?" she said. "I'm surprised. David, you are no mediocrity. You are a very high tone guy. I'm the mediocrity. Yes, I can turn a guy on. Always could do that. But, after he's had me, most guys will invariably dump me or treat me like shit. You haven't done that. Not before when we did it nor tonight, and tonight you did great. I needed great."

"Well, thank you for that," I said. My tone undoubtedly carrying the surprise I actually felt at her words.

"David, I'm getting up there in years. Oh, I'm not over the hill by any means, but let's just say I can see the summit real clear," she said. "I need a man to love and be loved by. And, I might add, a man who knows his place. You do, or you sure did last night."

"My place?" I said. She'd repeated herself in that regard several times during our go. But, I just figured it was just nonsense talk.

"Yes, on your knees and adoring your woman. I need that. Every woman does to some extent," she said. I nodded.

My woman? Was this woman going to be my woman? Maybe I wasn't the loser I'd thought myself! I took the bull by the horns.

"Well, if adoration is what you require, adoration is what you're going to get from me," I said. She laughed and it was a good laugh, good for me.

We talked for some time and then fell asleep in each other's arms. It was a good feeling.

CHAPTER TWENTY 2004

"It's evidently serious," said Stacey. He smiled at her words.

"And you know this how?" he said.

"Jenna. Said she came over when she was there last week. They were very friendly. Jenna, is happy for him or so she told me," said Stacey.

"Hmm, interesting, I guess. I mean I never expected that he would go forever without a woman. But that woman? Weird," he said.

"No weirder than you and me," said Stacey, "and in point of fact maybe not as weird."

"I don't know," he said," it's just a very strange situation, coincidence."

"Well, it is that," she said. "I wonder if he intends to ever let us in on his little affair, if that's what it is."

"He's probably filed it under 'none of our business,'" he said.

"Yes, I see what you mean," she said, laughing.

"Yeah, I don't see him calling us and happily informing us of his good fortune. Especially since Madeleine used to be my good fortune," he said.

"No, no, I wouldn't think so either," she said. Now they both laughed.

******

Well, I had me a woman, sort of. Would it last, our relationship? Well, one could hope. Three years plus without one but the dry spell seemed to be over. And, if it was over, I had a plan.

She was making coffee, and it smelled good. I came into the kitchen. I plopped down in one of the straight backed chairs that flanked her dinette table.

"That was a great night, girl," I said. She snickered.

"I think that I can agree with your assessment pretty much unconditionally," she said.

"Hmm, would it be too bold of me to ask you to move in with me?" he said.

She pulled two white coffee cups out from the cupboard above the sink and set them down on the sink. "Move in with you?" she said.

"Yes, I'd pay the rent and you'd be the boss," I said, joking.

"Hmm, David, I don't-oh what the hell, yes," she said. My smile was a mile wide I was sure.

"Wonderful," I said.

"Bear in mind, David, that I am looking for something permanent, as I indicated before. So… " she started.

"I get that, and we'll be exploring that possibility in the living together," I said. "I need something permanent too. Are you the one? Are we compatible, made for each other? I'm, well, I'm just not sure, Madeleine. And, that's for sure no knock on you. But…

"I mean look at it. You were married to my brother, who cuckolded me and married my wife, and now I'm considering and you're considering that we marry. Strange is not even the half of it. And, there are other things," I said.

"I see, and I agree, as to what you mean, but other things?" she said.

"Yes, I have a daughter and she has become problematical. Could you deal with that? Can I in good conscience put that on you?" I said. "All I'm saying is that I want to go a little slow and do things right."

"You make a good case, David. So, okay, let's live together. We should know, before we get much older, what's what. I agree," she said.

She poured the coffees and brought them to the table. We sipped in thoughtful silence. We eyed each other like a very committed, well semi-committed, couple.

******

I moved in with Madeleine, and yes, I got out of my lease and moved into her place. It was larger, and as fate would dictate, it was closer to the cheaters' place. Within walking distance as it happened, well, a long walk. And, the move facilitated three major happenings. One, Jenna was happier visiting me now that I had a woman. Two, I no longer had to deliver her back to the cheaters' place: she had a car. Three, Madeleine and Jenna became actual friends. I was hoping this last would spell something good for me in the long run. One other thing, that may or may not have been related to the move, was that Jenna no longer referred to me as Uncle David. I had the feeling, though I had no conclusive evidence thereto, that that was the result of Stacey's influence. She, they, the cheaters, had apparently, maybe, changed their minds about things; I'm not sure how I felt about that: the bitterness that had consumed me had dulled some with time, but dormant, it still roiled deep within me.

And such was the situation on the eve of Jenna's eighteenth birthday. There was still a few months to go in that regard, but once achieved, Jenna and I would be having a sit down. Oh yeah!

"So did any of them come down to greet you?" I said. I was referring to the fact that Madeleine had just returned to dropping Jenna at the house, their house. Yes, Jenna had her license and her car, but it was in the shop for servicing. And, with us living so close, less than two miles, from the cheaters, it was a no brainer to drop her.

"No, but they were out and about. I saw them up by the house. Your ex did wave to me, but no, neither of them came down to say anything. I think their just hanging back wanting not to be seen as interfering with you and me or doing something wrong, something more wrong than they already have," she said.

"Hmm, makes sense. I think you're right. What did Jenna have to say when you asked her about those boys," I said. I think I was smiling. My Jenna was a looker. I knew, if not exactly first hand, that the boys were sniffing around her; that was a given.

"Not a whole lot. She allowed that she was being hit on. Like that was news," said Madeleine, laughing.

"Yes news, not," I said.

"Well, I hope she will listen to you about them, the boys. I worry sometimes," I said.

"It's a daddy's job to worry about his baby girls. But, she'll be all right. She has a head on her shoulders," said Madeleine.

"I have to wonder what the dynamic duo is doing or saying to her relative to the boys, and her friends in general if it comes to that," I said.

"Who knows, but they are still her custodians for a few more months. I would think that they have talked to her. I mean they are playing the parts of parents. But, whatever, all we can do is what we can do. I'm not worried, and you should maybe not be quite so concerned as you have seemed to be lately," she said.

"You're probably right. Okay, I'll lighten up on myself," I said. "I just hope you're right."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 2004

I got the visit at11:00AM, she was right on time. Well, she should have been, she set it, the time and for that matter the visit. Madeleine was working. She knew about the meeting and had volunteered to be there when I got the visit from my ex. But, I'd waved her off. I wanted to talk to the woman. And, I wanted to hear what she had to say.

She knocked. I opened the door and waved her in. She followed me into the living room. It hit me that it was the first time she'd been to Madeleine's place. I could see she was appraising our economic status and was not impressed. I decided to call her on it.

"It's warm and comfortable," I said. "Not as fancy as the mansion you live in, but we like it."

"David, I didn't, don't… " she started and stopped.

"Yeah, right," I said. "It doesn't matter. Your opinion doesn't mean a thing to me anymore, not about that."

"Okay, but I'm sorry if I gave you the impression, well, that I was being snobbish. I hope I wasn't. I certainly didn't mean to be," she said.

"Okay, okay, forget it. You said you were worried about Jenna," I said. "I mean, she's eighteen now. I know she's still living with you and my ex-brother, but she is a technical adult."

"David, Ronald is not your damn ex-brother. He's your brother period. Get that! Please. Yes, he was an asshole doing what he did as was I. But, that's old news. You've got a new woman, Madeleine, be happy. We want you to be happy. We don't expect you to ever forgive us, and we don't deserve to be forgiven, but frankly, we do expect you to get along with us. O-damn-kay!" she said. I stared at her and she stared back at me waiting.

A woman, any woman, who has won the heart of a man, owns that heart for life. She cannot divorce herself from that ownership, and, that responsibility, the law courts notwithstanding. Nor can a man escape her thrall; it's the nature of the beast. And, yes, Stacey still had my heart that would never change; and, the reality of that is what my state of mind, my bitterness, was based on.

"Stacey… " I wanted to say things to her, but how. I didn't know how.

"David, I know you need to talk to me, and I promise we will talk one day. But not today. Today has to be about Jenna. I'm concerned, as is Ronald and we need your support in this. Okay? Please?" she said.

"Okay. I guess. I understand. So Whaddya yuh got?" I said.

She began to lay out a lot of happenings that didn't sound too good. Jenna was giving rides to a lot of individuals, some too old for her to be hanging with, and who might best be described as undesirable. Also, she wasn't being communicative when asked about them. Also, she'd been acting lethargic and distant on way too many occasions. Something wasn't right.

"Okay, but I don't know what you want me to do. She's only here once a month, and that's if she actually shows up. And about that, she's been missing in action a lot when it comes to my time. I guess now that she's of age the old rules don't apply; I mean I know the law. But, anyway, again, what do you think I should do?" I said.

"I know she plans on coming here next weekend. If you could talk to her, you know encourage her to open up to you. I don't know what good it might do, but at least she'll know that we all care and are concerned about her behavior. That's the bottom line, that she understands all of her family are concerned about her. And if, you know… " she said.

"Me know? What?" I said.

"If you could maybe get her to tell you who these guys she's hanging with are. Well, we could maybe check up on them," said Stacey. I nodded.

"Okay, I guess I could try.

"But, Stacey, I have to say that this little visit of yours is a surprise. Ever since the divorce you've done your best, you and Ronald, to minimize my influence and daddyship with my daughter. And now you need me to run interference for you with Jenna. Why the sudden shift?" I said.

She sighed. "Ronald and I, and it was mostly me, wanted to make sure that he could have a real father daughter relationship with Jenna. Hence, my idea to have the two of you just switch roles. We had every intention of you being around a lot, maybe more than a lot, but well, if we went the two daddy route, well, the thought, my thinking, was that he would never really get to the place where Jenna saw him as she saw you," she said.

"So I was going to be sacrificed so that you two cheaters could complete the rebuilding of your lives together," I said. It was not a question.

"David, I just got done telling you that we wanted to maximize your presence in Jenna's life; heck, in our lives too. But, well, I guess I do understand how you feel about things. None of us anticipated your reaction, the extremeness of it anyway," she said.

"Yeah, and well that's surprising as hell. You had to know I wasn't going to go for some kind of uncle shit. I did not and do not deserve that kind of treatment.

"Anyway, okay, I will do my best with Jenna. Talk to her. See what I can find out if anything. I'm as concerned as you are," I said.

"Okay, thank you. It's appreciated," she said. I looked down. She noticed.

"David?"

"It's hard, Stacey. I won't kid you. It's hard dealing with you not being with me anymore. Maddie does her best and mostly she is successful in keeping me focused on her, but you were mine. Well, and then you weren't. It's hard," I said.

"Davey, Davey. I'm sorry about everything. I know you have feelings for me still. And if it matters, I still have feelings for you too on some level. But it's time for you to move on. For all of us to do so. Give it some thought. Okay?" she said. I nodded, and then she was gone.

******

Visitation was no longer a court requirement. Oddly, though, I was still getting visits from Jenna, usually on the third weekend of every month just as had been ordered by the courts so long ago, five years ago. Well, I was still getting visits on "my" weekend, but they had become more sporadic. She still missed some weekends: she was busy, she didn't feel well, the list of excuses was long and not very imaginative. But, she was an adult now, technically. She did still shack up with my cuckolders. But, then I got the skinny, from Jenna. Her address was still their address, but anymore she was gone off with friends almost as much as she was at home, their home. I began to understand Stacey's concern, and likely Ronald's.

******

"You know, Jenna, your mom's worried about you," I said.

"Dad, she's just a worrywart. My friends and I don't do anything all that objectionable. I guess she's worried that I'm gone a lot, or maybe having sex too much," she said. "How hypocritical is that!"

I had to smile. She'd nailed that one. "Too much?" I said.

"Dad, I'm eighteen. No, I'm not a virgin anymore, not for a while," she said.

"Anyone special?" I said.

"I don't know, maybe," she said.

"Hmm, does maybe have a name?" I said. I was doing my best not to appear judgmental or invasive. I wasn't sure how successful I was being in achieving those goals.

"His name is Chester, dad. He's a good guy, a fun guy. He makes me laugh," she said.

I nodded. "Well, okay. Any chance of me getting to meet mister good guy?" I said. I was smiling, trying to be disarming. She sighed.

"I guess, one of these days," she said.

We talked for some time. It occurred to me that she wanted to talk, but at the same time was holding back to some degree fearing, I supposed, that I might be judging her. I wasn't, but that didn't alter the fact that she thought I might be.

I'd gotten up to get us something to eat from the frig. When I called her to come and eat, she came into the kitchen with the cell phone glued to her ear. She mouthed to me that it was Chester. I just smiled and set the food on the table.

We ate mostly in silence, well, we were both hungry and were concentrating on the activity at hand.

I wiped the detritus from my lips and leaned back in my chair. "So, you and Chester making plans for the day?" I said, chancing that that was the case.

"Yes, I'll be picking him up a little later if that's okay with you, dad," she said. "We might be going to the movies."

"You're picking him up? Doesn't he have a car?" I said.

"Yes, but he doesn't have a caddy," she said. It rankled that she was so condescending, as it seemed to me, about her relative affluence. I wonder how Chester felt about it.

******

Madeleine had been at work while Jenna was visiting with me. She came in through the kitchen entryway.

"Hi, Jenna here?" she said.

"No left a bit ago to pick up her boyfriend," I said.

"Her boyfriend? Chester?" she said.

"Yeah, that's the name," I said." They're going to the movies."

She smiled a knowing smile. "The movies?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Sounds like code for it's 'none of your business,'" she said.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, really. Kids these days don't do the things you and I did when we were their age," she said.

"But… " I started.

"Can't do weed in the theater. Probably some friend's crib," she said. I suddenly began to worry.

"Weed? You think she does drugs?" I said. I know my voice carried a whole lot of newly acquired angst.

"Nothing heavy, I don't think, but I think it would be good to keep an eye out. Sometimes kids don't think until it's way beyond the point of no return. Just my thinking others may differ," she said. I nodded my understanding and concern.

"I wouldn't worry unduly. We've talked about this stuff," she said. "Like we've both agreed, she does have a head on her shoulders. I think she'll know where to draw the line. Still, keeping an eye out would not be a bad thing.

"Yes, yes, I agree. At least she's talking to me about personal things even if some of it is not exactly meaningful," I said.

"For sure. Keep her talking and let her know indirectly that you won't be condemning her if she makes a mistake or two. But, at the same time, that you need her to act like an adult which she technically is," said Madeleine.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 2005

They were making enough racket to disturb the dead.

"You boys need to calm down and get back to class," said the para pro patrolling the grounds. The crowd of four boys hanging out in front of the boys' room snickered and slowly meandered more or less in the direction of the classroom building across from them.

"What's with Marco?" said Chester.

Derek Simmons laughed. "It's his job, bro. The principal sends him on his little tour every day as you damn well know."

"Yeah, yeah, and it suits him.

"Like I was saying before, you got any stuff to give me?" said Chester.

"Yeah, yeah, see me in the lot after school. Oh, and bring your honey with you. You might get extra if she's around," said Derek. "She gonna pick you up?"

"Yeah, yeah, just like every day this week and you damn well know that too," said Chester.

"When you gonna get your car back from the shop?" said Derek.

"S'posed to be Monday if they can get the parts. What's the matter? Don't like my girl's ride?" said Chester, he was smirking,

"That caddy stands out like too much. You need to not be noticed," said Derek.

"Okay, okay. Can I help it if my true love is rich?" he said laughing. His buddy sneered.

"I wanna get to know her a little better," said Derek. "Set it up."

"Hey, Whaddya talkin' about. She's my girl, not yours," sad Chester.

"Hey bro, we share. Know what I mean." Derek's look left no doubt what he meant.

Chester swallowed. "Okay, okay, I'll ask. But, she won't go for it."

"Make her go for it. Hey, I'll make it nice for her," said Derek. "So, like I said, bro, make her go for it." His tone was pure threat. His partner shivered.

******

"Are you kidding, Chester! I don't even like the guy," said Jenna.

"He's an okay, guy, Jen. Besides, I've got a present for yuh," he said. "Your favorite stuff. It's from him."

She looked around. "Smack?" she said.

"Yeah, just like last time," he said. He watched as she licked her lips.

"It was good stuff. I mean before," she said. "But, let me guess, to get it I have to do what you said, be with him."

"Him and me. I'll be there watching your back," said Chester. "And the rest of you too for that matter."

"You'll be there? It'll be the three of us?" she said. She was looking around trying not to make eye contact with her partner.

"Yes. It'll be cool. No risk, only fun, and a little smack," he said.

"When?" she said.

"Tonight. At Harry Sheldon's crib," he said.

"Harry's! that old man. Is he going to be there too?" said Jenna.

"No, no, he's outta town. Vacation in Mexico, I think, not sure," said Chester. "It'll be just the three of us, for real." She nodded, but it was a nod filled with reluctance.

"Good," he said.

******

"Jenna's just busy David. She's nineteen. She goes over to your place often enough," said Stacey.

"Yeah, if you consider a few hours a month, usually a Saturday morning, enough," he said. "Last time she had that kid with her, Chester."

"Yes, Chester. He's her boyfriend. She at that age, David. So, stop fretting. Heck, we don't see that much of her either. She sleeps at the house, well…"

"Stacey?" I said.

"She sleeps over at her friends' places sometimes. It does concern Ronald, and just like you, he's overly concerned, makes too big a deal out of little or nothing," she said.

"Hmm, maybe," I said.

"She's an adult, David. So is her boyfriend and the crowd she runs with," she said.

"Aunt Delia and I talked about her always running off with those kids, and they are kids as far as I'm concerned. Being eighteen and nineteen may qualify them as technical adults, but not real ones, not to my mind," I said.

"Oh pooh. She's fine. Just lighten up a bit okay?" she said. I nodded, but it was not an affirmative nod, more a tentative one. What bothered me was that my ex and my ex-brother didn't seem concerned. They'd come to me, well Stacey had, telling me that they were concerned, but apparently not anymore. I didn't like it.

She and I had more or less gotten to a place where we could talk a bit when we ran into each other as we had today at the IHOP near my work. And, what we talked about was almost always Jenna.

We got along from my end because she and my ex-brother, and he was still that to me, had stopped trying to dilute my status as father of Jenna. Why she wanted to get along with me was still a mystery. Her stated reason was that she wanted me to be a part of the family, her family. I guess that might have been it. The underlying goal being her hope, wish, whatever that I would be willing to reconstruct my relationship with Ronald Carter; that, however, would never be happening. He stole the only thing, besides my daughter, that ever had any meaning for me in life, my wife. That was the ultimate kiss of death to him and me ever being brothers again. And yes I know how incongruous that must seem since I was willing to talk to her. Why? Because I still loved her more than my own life, more than anything.

I watched her through the window as she sashayed across the restaurant's parking lot. God how I wanted my woman back. I think she knew it too, but I might have been imagining that.

******

Ronald Carter sat across from his daughter and stared. "Jenna, this is not good," he said. "You say he was arrested?"

"Yes, Dad," she said. "He had some marijuana and they arrested him for it."

"Can we, Dad?" she begged.

"What about his parents?" he said,

"They're poor. Mister Quigley was the one who came to me to ask," she said.

"Jenna, I'm going to let you have the money to bail him out, but this is a one-time deal. And… " he said.

"Oh thank you, daddy!" she said, interrupting him.

"One more thing, Jenna," he said.

"Okay?" she said.

"I'm not real comfortable with you paling around with people who use drugs, even marijuana," he said.

"Dad, everybody smokes a little marijuana from time to time. It's no big deal," she said.

"It's a big deal to me, Jenna. You need to widen your circle of friends. Okay?" he said.

Ronald Carter was worried. She, his daughter, had just all but told him that she'd been using marijuana too. He worried that he couldn't cut her off from the man, this Chester Quigley. But, he would be doing his damnedest to steer her to other circles and hope it worked out. He would be talking to her mother and that sooner rather than later.

******

"Her dad bailed you out?" said Harry Sheldon.

"Yes, sir," said Chester.

"So, her old man really does have the bucks?" said the older man.

"Yes, he's a millionaire, I guess," said Chester.

"Any chance he uses?" said Harry.

"No, pretty square according to her," said Chester.

"Hmm, too bad. Well, at least she does. Has Derek talked to you?" said Harry.

"About the little party?" said Chester.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Yes. She'll be there. She's pretty much got the need for the stuff," he said. The older man smiled.

"They all do, eventually," he said. The younger man nodded; he was smiling too.

"Glad you're getting along with her. She could be a source for more sales down the line. Especially her being so pretty and all," said Harry.

"Yes, sir," said Chester, he was smiling broadly. She was going to be his ticket to getting ahead; and, she had friends, girlfriends.

"Anyway, so Chester, you're graduating this next week. That so?" said Harry.

"Yes, sir," said Chester.

"I think that an occasion as big as this one, you graduating, demands to be celebrated. Whaddya think," said Harry.

"Well, I-sure, I guess," said Chester.

"Invite some of your friends, especially your squeeze," said Harry.

"Well, okay," said Chester, smiling like he'd just won the lottery.

******

The party was in full swing, at least fifty attendees, mostly young, but a few of Harry's associates.

She was on her back waiting for the next player to do her There'd been three already. She was feeling no pain, but she was not happy either. Chester had been the first, but then he'd let Derek and then Harry do her too. The smack had made her amenable. Another guy, a young guy came in.

"You waitin' for me?" he said, smiling down at the helpless Jenna. She didn't respond; she just looked at him and waited.

******

"Jenna didn't get home till almost noon," said Ronald.

"I know, and it is bothersome. Not that she got in late but that she didn't call. And, she didn't look good, but that might be because she was up all night," said Stacey.

"Well, it was an all-night grad party," said Ronald. "That part I understand." She nodded.

"I guess. But she looked actually sick to me, not just tired," said Stacey.

"Yeah, maybe," he said. "I just hope she's not doing what I think you think she's doing."

"You going to talk to her?" she said.

"Yes, I think I have to. She may be a technical adult, but she is not an independent adult. You should maybe give a heads up to your ex also," said Ronald.

"Okay, I can do that. And, you're right. He does need to be kept in the loop," she said.

******

"Yes, that is exactly right," she said, "I need your help."

"You say she may be using drugs, or you suspect it?" I said.

"I know it sounds crazy," said Stacey, "but she's been acting odd and keeping really weird hours and, well, not acting normal. Ronald said he thinks it's marijuana. Said, she all but admitted as much to him." I nodded my understanding and concern.

"Okay, I will do my best. I'm with you on this one. We are her parents. It's our job to protect and guide her even if she is legally old enough to make some of her own decisions," I said.

"Okay, then good," she said. "She said she was coming over here to your place this weekend. And, it can't be too soon. I mean to get ahead of this game and steer her down the right path."

"I agree," I said.

My talk with my ex was notable on several levels. One, she never batted an eyelash when I referred to me and her as Jenna's parents. Two, my ex-brother's name never even came up; I thought that significant. But, most importantly, her tone told me that she needed and trusted me to protect our baby, and more that she couldn't handle the situation, it was clearly beyond her. I didn't smile but I wanted to.

******

Her Caddy pulled into the lot. I saw her get out and grab her purse before closing it up and clicking the locking mechanism on her keyring. She looked sharp in her dress, heels, and designer sunglasses. I was hoping for a positive result from our, planned for by me, conversation.

"Hi dad," she said. I was standing outside on the walkway in front of my door as she strode up.

"Hi to you too," I said. "Good to see you. How have you been?"

"Good. Busy. You know, a lot of stuff going on," she said.

I led the way inside. I headed for the kitchen. "Got the burgers about ready," I said. "I put 'em on after you called. We can eat and talk at the same time Okay?"

"Good, I'm hungry," she said. "And, I do want to talk. I've got some stuff to tell you, dad. I need your advice. Okay?"

"Sure bet," I said.

Done eating, I started collecting the dishes and cleaning up. She helped me which was something new. I had noticed, that in spite of her claim that she'd been hungry that she hadn't actually eaten very much.

I don't think I showed it, but I was very much interested in whatever it was that she had to tell me. She'd sounded, what, urgent I guess was the word.

I poured a couple of iced teas for us and set them on the table. "So," I said.

"Dad, I'm in trouble," she said without undue preamble. I could feel my brow knit.

"Okay, baby. Let's have it. We'll figure it out," I said.

"Dad, I can't talk to mom or daddy Ron about this. They just don't know how to deal with stuff like you do, daddy," said Jenna. She went silent. It was clear that she wanted to talk but was afraid to tell me whatever it was. For my part I was opting for patience and trying to appear as calm and collected as possible.

"Dad, I want to stop," she said. "But, Chester and Harry won't let me."

"Stop? Stop what?" I said.

"Using, daddy. Using drugs, heroin," she said. I absolutely know my face flushed and was showing, I was sure, my shock.

"Daddy, you're the only one I can talk to," she said. "I'm scared, daddy." I leaned back in my seat.

"Baby you've done right to come to me. We will solve this little problem and those two men will be out of, no they are already out of, the picture. You will no longer have to deal with them ever again," I said.

"But, daddy, there's a problem." I gave her a look. "I can't seem to stop. I injected myself before I came over. I had to be coherent. I haven't used a lot, so far. But, I can feel myself getting used to it, daddy, needing it," she said. She removed her sunglasses. Her eyes were sunken with dark bags under them.

"Baby, you have to trust me. Okay?" I said. "I'm going to get you help and we are going to beat this thing together," I said.

"Okay, daddy. Okay. Are you going to tell mom?" she said.

"Do you want me to?" I said.

"I don't know," she said. "I guess you have to." I nodded.

"Okay, we'll play that one by ear, but yes, at some point your mom will have to know. I know she's concerned about you," I said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 2005

"Remind me again why you left my brother and hooked up with me," said Ronald Carter.

"I just did remind you," said Stacey Carter.

The two of them lay naked and out of breath and panting on the carpet of the front room of their mansion.

"No, I just got done reminding you as to why I wanted you to be mine. I mean I did all of the work!" he said, trying to laugh but sputtering.

"Excuse me," she said. "Who got you up for the second and third goes, especially the third go. You almost couldn't be gotten up for that one. You must be aging." Now she laughed and there was no trying about it.

"You did get me there. I have to give you that one, I guess," he said. They rolled toward each other and lay wrapped in each other's arms.

"We need to talk, but a little later," she said.

"About you including David in the decision making process as regards Jenna?" he said.

"Exactly," she said. "He was willing, but I'm not sure it was the best option."

"Okay, we'll talk a little later. I agree, we need to talk, but later. I love you Stacey, a lot," he said. He licked his lips and, not so slowly, fell asleep.

"I love you too big guy," she muttered to his all but unconscious form.

******

I had a ton to think about, and bars are wonderful places to do it. The Spur was my thinking place of choice.

Well, it was my thinking place of choice all right, but I was doing more reminiscing than thinking; they're not the same things. I was reminiscing over my lost love and my hatred for my ex-brother for causing me to lose her, the love of my life, Stacey Carter. God how I still needed that woman. And now I needed to talk to her again, and that about intimate things, intimate things relating to our daughter, and Jenna was our daughter not my asshole ex-brother's daughter, never his.

It gave me a good feeling that Jenna came to me instead of him, really either of them, for help. Yes, a very good feeling. I had to believe that the two of them had failed in their attempt to replace me as her daddy. They'd clearly failed in that. It was me my baby came to for help. I swore to myself that I would always be there for her, no matter what. But, now I had two things to take care of.

One, I had to talk to Stacey, preferably without the asshole present. She was her mother, not a very good one to my way of thinking, but she was her mother and she did need to know what was going on with Jenna. She, Stacey, was already aware of problems with our girl; she'd made that clear to me when we'd last talked. But, for some reason she'd not put two and two together and figured out just how bad the problem was. Well, I hadn't either if it came to that. The difference was that I wasn't around Jenna enough to know the skinny; the two of them were. The judge and the two of them had seen to that little ditty.

Two, I needed to take care of the two criminal filth bags who were trying to hook Jenna up with drugs. Hell, they weren't trying anymore, they'd all but got her hooked permanently. I hoped against hope that Jenna was giving it to me straight about not having used very much of it so far. I had to believe that she'd told me the truth as she knew it.

******

I'd made the call, and I was waiting. I looked to my left where Hammond was yakking with one of the barflies. I raised my mug in the universal signal for a refill. He saw me, nodded, and turned to get me my second draft.

"You look, what, intense, today," said Hammond.

"Yeah, I'm waiting for my ex to show up. We've got some things to discuss about the kid," I said. He nodded.

"Hope everything's all right," he said.

"Thanks," I said, "I'm handling it. We'll be making it all right." My favorite barkeep waddled off down the bar in answer to another summons.

I looked up at the clock on the wall above the back bar. It read twenty minutes since my last refill. A flash of red off to my left caught my eye. Jesus, she was beautiful. God how I wanted this woman! I wondered if she had something going other than the meet up with me. I decided to say something about it.

I stood as she came up to the bar. "You look good, Stacey, real good," I said. She smiled.

"Thank you, David, that's very nice of you to say," she said. She seemed surprised at my remarks.

"Shall we adjourn over there," I said, indicating a table against the back wall. She nodded.

"Sure," she said. I noted with satisfaction that she hadn't brought him with her. It would more than have cramped my style to have had to deal with him especially as it would have anything to do with Jenna.

I took a seat with my back to the wall; she took the one to my right rather than across from me. I raised an eyebrow at that: it made her closer to me; I wondered at that.

I waved to Hammond for service. I saw him direct Gloria, his help on the floor, to handle our order.

"What can I get you folks," said Gloria. We ordered two beers, my third.

"I take it this has something to do with what we talked about before," she said.

"Yes. I talked to Jenna. You were right to be concerned. She's been using hard drugs. She admitted it to me. And, for the record, she knows I would be talking to you about it," I said.

"Oh," she said.

"You had no clue?" I said.

"Not exactly. I have been concerned about her companions, the few I've known about. You know as we talked about before. But, not about any hard drug use," she said. I nodded.

"Heroin," I said.

"Oh my God!" she said. "We, I, thought maybe Marijuana, but you say Heroin! Oh my God!"

"Yeah, really. It doesn't get much worse. She did say she'd not used it too much so far, but that she was feeling like it was getting harder and harder for her to not have it. She even told her boyfriend that she was quitting. She said he is trying to talk her out of it, quitting that is. But, evidently at least, she hadn't gotten to the point where it was a train-wreck."

"What are we going to do?" she said. I wanted to smile, but I didn't. I mean here was the woman who wanted me to be a fucking uncle instead of a daddy, but was quite clearly, needing him, me, to take responsibility for the safety of our baby. One had to love it.

"I've told Jenna, and now I'm telling you, I will take care of the problems. And that's problems plural: the who and the what of it all. I've already got the names and addresses of the baddies that are plying her with the stuff: her boyfriend and some older guy named Harry. They're mine, Stacey, nobody threatens my baby and gets away with it," I said. "And the what: that's the junk, the heroin. She won't be getting any more of it, not even."

"David, anything you need. I mean, well, we've got money. Whatever it takes, I mean… " she said.

"Yeah, yeah I know. I'll let you know if I need anything. Don't worry about it," I said. "I've got this."

******

I checked my phone, it was 10:00PM. The man was in there. He'd just gotten back from wherever. I made the decision. He was about to get a late night visitor, me.

I headed up to the second story apartment, the man's. It had an outside entrance so no problem getting to his door. I knocked. I could hear him shuffling around. I stood close to the door so as to make it hard to see me from the adjacent window.

The door opened. He looked me up and down. I smiled. "Harry?" I said.

"Who are you?" he said. I unloaded on him with everything I had. He was taller and heavier than me, but totally out of shape. He went down with a thud.

"What the fuck!" he muttered rubbing his jaw.

"Jenna Carter is no longer on your list of customers. Got it?" I said. He muttered something that was incoherent. I turned and walked out.

******

"Her father?" said Chester Quigley.

"Yes, I'm sure of it," said Harry Sheldon.

"But, which father?" said Chester. "How tall was the guy?"

"Short but stocky, maybe one-seventy," said Harry. Chester nodded.

"Her real dad, not her bio dad, but the one who raised her, David Carter," said Chester.

"Well, we'll just wait and see which of us comes out on top in this is little competition," said Harry. "Jenna gets all the free junk she wants. I want her hooked and in our pocket and sooner rather than later. Got it!" said Harry.

"Yeah, yeah I got it," said Chester. "But, she may be a problem. She's told me that she didn't want any more of the stuff. Says it makes her nauseous when she comes down."

"Just figure a way," said Harry. "I want her, especially her, on our side if you get my drift. That father of hers has sealed it."

******

I entertained no illusions that the asshole I'd laid out would voluntarily take the pressure off of my kid to use his junk. But, I was of the considered opinion that Jenna would undoubtedly hear about my escapades and think twice about using the asshole's product knowing that I'd be around causing difficulties. A secondary problem, the way I saw things was the boyfriend.

Chester, that was the man's name. He was young, I knew, eighteen or nineteen, but legally an adult. Yeah, he was young, but he was the henchman of the middle-aged piece of shit I'd gotten into it with. My goal was to separate him from Jenna. Breaking up young lovers, even in situations like this one, was always an iffy proposition. Young lovers, especially the young ones, were always more than defensive about their choices. I had to figure a way to get Jenna to stick with her stated goal of getting away from the drugs she'd been experimenting with.

******

"Honey, you're going to like the guy," said Chester.

"I'm not gonna fuck any more of Harry's friends, Chester. I'm not! What kind of boyfriend wants his intended to go to bed with strangers? You either love someone or you don't, and if you do, you don't bed other people. I can't believe you don't get that. And, I can't believe you keep asking me to do this stuff. Enough is enough," she said.

"Honey, honey, honey it's only sex not love. I love you. You love me. But a little playing on the side is good for business. Harry asked me to ask you is all. Oh, and if you help us out here, you will never have to pay for smack ever again. He told me to give you whatever you wanted, no charge," said Chester.

She sighed. "Well, who is it?" said Jenna.

"Carlton McCleod," he said. "And…"

"Who?" she said.

"Just a friend of Harry's. Nobody special really." She snickered.

"Yeah, well none of Harry's pals have been special so far," she said, "so I can relate to what you're saying.

"And you said 'and'," she said. "And what?"

"And maybe a couple of his friends too," said Chester.

"Not a fucking chance, Chester. Don't ask again or you're history as far as I'm concerned."

"Okay, okay," he said. "Just Carlton. Okay?" She nodded.

"Okay, but no more after this one," she said.

"Absolutely," he said. "I'll let Harry know. You're mine after this one and mine alone."

"Okay," she said. "This one last time then."

******

"She agreed then," said Harry.

"Yeah, I had to do some fast talking, but she's good to go," he said.

"Good, good," said Harry. "Did you give her the stuff?"

"Yeah, and she shot up almost immediately. I told her it was watered down some, so she wouldn't be nauseous after she came down from the effects," he said.

"Where is she now," said Harry.

"At my place. She's waiting on Carlton," said Chester.

"Okay, good, we'll both go back there and wait till she's done with him. Then we'll give her some more of the good stuff and seal the deal," said Harry.

"Okay," said Chester, but he was looking a little skittish. The older man picked up on it.

"And, you, young man, will be handsomely rewarded for your help in this little matter." Chester nodded.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 2007

She pulled up in front of the two story apartment complex and parked the caddy. She took a deep breath. She really didn't want to be here, but the love of her life, Chester the jester, had communicated the urgency of the situation to her, well, maybe not urgency exactly, maybe a modified state of desperation on his part. His mentor, Harry, was pressuring him to get her to do things, things she did not want to be doing.

The men, there'd been several, and now this Carlton guy. She knew that Chester and Harry had gotten some of the men she'd been with hooked on the stuff. She felt no guilt being party to it, their business. She was doing it for her man and, maybe a little for the stuff they gave her for free. Well, but it wasn't for free was it. She'd had to pay with her body. Chester had said that this Carlton guy was special, had a lot of money. She'd fuck him, but he'd be the last one.

She got out and headed up to apartment number 205. The plunging neckline of her short sundress was certain to turn the maggot on. She wanted that. If the asshole was hot to trot, he'd come in a hurry, and she'd be able to get outta there and away from him the sooner. That was the hope at any rate.

******

"Well, Chester said you were a cutie. He wasn't lying," said Carlton Hastings. He sure was fat, she thought and tall.

"Thanks," she said unenthusiastically.

"Come here, little bunny," he said. "Have a seat here on the bed beside me." She did as he asked.

"My name's Carlton. Yours?" he said.

"Jenna," she said.

"Well, Jenna, what say we get right to it if that's all right with you," he said.

"Okay," she said. Good she thought, this might be over quicker than she'd even dared to hope.

As she slowly disrobed, he watched for some two or three minutes, staring at her swaying tits and hips. Finally, naked, she stood looking at him. That she was

self-conscious with this fat slob was pretty obvious. But, she didn't back away or try to hide any of her charms.

He'd been sitting on the bed's edge. Now he stood and began taking his own clothes off. Soon, much sooner than was the case with her, he was naked. He came to her and wrapped his arms around her and began kissing her and nuzzling his face into her neck and between her breasts. He didn't seem to be aware of how he made her skin crawl.

She gritted her teeth and tried to not appear too obviously disgusted with the man. She let herself be led to the bed. She lay with her legs but barely parted. She felt him insinuate a knee between her thighs and spread her wide. He took her. Yes, she was letting him. She'd agreed to let him do her, at Chester's behest, but she hated it. Chester didn't know it yet, but he was history. Her dads, both of them, would make sure that she was never treated like this again. And, then he was there; Chester was there.

The man on top of her, smiled at the intrusion.

"Hi, honey," said Chester filling the doorway.

Another visitor, he'd come in behind Chester, smiled his approval. "Hello, girl," said Harry.

"Chester! What?" she said.

"Just a party," said Chester. "Everything's gonna be fine, hon. Everything's cool."

"Indeed it is," said Harry, "everything is indeed cool."

The man on top of her resumed his but momentarily interrupted screwing of her. Then the other two men took her, Chester twice; well, he was younger.

It was some time before she awoke. Everyone was naked. She saw the hypodermic on the little end table near the bed. She'd shot up. Or she had been shot up, probably by Harry; she couldn't remember for sure. She felt calm, but tired, very tired. The three men were asleep. She looked around. She slowly, very slowly slipped off of the bed and on to the floor. She began gathering her clothes which had somehow been kicked or tossed into the corner near the bathroom door.

In the bathroom, she vomited. While she'd been lying down, she'd felt good, but now the nausea had begun to take its toll. She was able to splash some cold water on her face. She went back into the room where the men were still sleeping. She donned her clothes and noticed something. Harry's clothes were on the chair by the door. There was a holstered gun on top of them. She went to it. She picked up the thing and unholstered it. She was looking at it. Chester woke up.

"Jenna! What are you doing with that!" he said. He rolled off the bed and came at her suddenly, too suddenly, reaching out to seize the gun in the process. She was afraid, afraid of Chester. The other two men stirred. The gun went off. Chester flew backwards a shocked look painting his features as he shrank to the floor. Harry came at her and she fired killing him instantly. Carlton was standing terrified beside the bed. He back-peddled away from her. He held his hands in front of him as if warding off some terrifying monster. She fired without realizing she'd fired. He sank to the floor lifeless.

The whole tableau had taken less than a full minute, but three men were dead, and she'd killed them.

She didn't know how long she stood there, but it had to have been a good bit. She felt numb. She didn't know what to do. Then, she did. She went to her purse which she had all but forgotten about. She pulled out her cellphone and dialed.

"Daddyyyy," she wailed.

******

I didn't know what had made her so desperate sounding on the phone, but I was betting that whatever it was involved that boyfriend of hers. Oh yes, Chester was the one. But first things first.

The drive to the Travelux motor hotel had taken me a good half hour, and that was with a heavy foot on the gas pedal.

I pulled into the lot. I recognized Jenna's Caddy right away. Room number 205 she'd said. I headed for it.

The door was ajar. She was sitting on a rattan chair that flanked the small utility table to the left of the doorway. She'd been crying big time. Her eyes were all puffy and her dress was slightly torn, but still fulfilling its primary function of covering her nakedness.

"Jenna?" I said. Then I saw them. I hadn't until then. The three men, the three dead men. I recognized two of them. I'd mixed it up with Harry of course. And, I knew Chester who I'd not long before, though briefly, met.

"Daddy, I shot them with his gun," said Jenna, pointing to Harry's now dead person. She burst into tears once again. This was bad.

"What happened," I said. It took her half an hour to give me all the details and answer the questions I had.

This was bad. I looked at my daughter and I knew, I just knew. She couldn't handle prison, and she was an adult. She could get life or even worse. Three dead men! The place looked like a slaughter house.

"Jenna this is how this is going to play out," I said. And on the spot I came up with a plan that if things just broke a little our way would work.

"Daddy no! I did it not you!" she screamed. I calmed her down and laid it out for her. She'd get twenty to life if she were lucky. Me? I'd get manslaughter, well, that's what I told her.

It took me quite a while and a whole lot of totally illogical arguing to get her to go along with the plan I had in mind.

The Plan: She'd called me in distress. I'd come and tried to get her away from the druggies. The middle aged man had taken exception to my efforts; he'd had a gun. We struggled; his friends joined in the fray. Somehow, I couldn't remember how, I got the gun away from him and fired until they were all down.

I had one thing I had to do to convince the police, well, two things. Jenna had to get out of there and clean up and get rid of her clothes. I, on the other hand, had to fire the gun once and make sure nobody could hear the shot. Why? I had to have gun residue on my hands and clothes and she couldn't or the jig would be up.

I was alone when the cops showed up. I told them the story. They went and brought Jenna back from the house, my house, to corroborate what I told them. She didn't blow it. She did try to sell them on the idea that it was all her fault the sex the drugs the bad choices were all hers she said. The police empathized, but they cuffed and arrested me and hauled me off anyway.

The next day I got visits from Jenna, my ex-brother who I did see, and finally from Stacey. And all one at a time.

The visit from Jenna was all melancholy and sad and filled with guilt and pain on her part, but I finally got her to calm down and do what I told her which was to forget about it and to live her life and make me proud; well, I hoped I'd gotten her to do what I said.

She understood the sacrifice I was making, and I think she understood that I had to make it.

The visit from Stacey was another matter. She was not supportive. Oh, she did believe that I did what I did to bail out Jenna from a bad situation, but to kill three men! Well, for her that was beyond the pale. Of course in her defense she was certain that the cops had it right and that I had killed the assholes without remorse or any attempt to get away once I had the gun.

What saved me in the end was the true fact that the gun belonged to Harry. Had I brought the gun to the apartment, as my lawyer Nathan Ferguson informed me, I might have faced the death penalty. But, in the end, though the D.A. wanted second degree, he only got manslaughter; seven to ten years.

Then it was two weeks later, and I got another visit. "I'm sorry for you, David. My God how sorry I am. And just so you'll know, Jenna cries for you every night. I expect she'll come up to see you from time to time. If you will allow, I will as well," she Stacey. I had to put the boff on those plans right away.

"No, no, I appreciate the offer, but no. Please no visitors. I couldn't bear it," I said. Of course the truth is I would have liked to have had visitors, but if Jenna came up even only rarely; I was afraid she'd crack and the whole thing would blow up in our faces. No, I had to go it alone. With luck I'd be out in the minimum. Time enough then to see them, well, at least Jenna.

A big bonus in my taking the fall for my daughter was the undeniable certainty that she would finally know who her real daddy was for fucking sure. I had to smile at the mental images of how that was going to play out at my ex-brother's house over the next several years. Truth told, I was almost happy to be going inside if only for that reason.

******

"So you saw him today?" said Ronald.

"Yes, it's very sad. He's being transported up state to prison tomorrow," said Stacey.

The man nodded. "I feel sorry for him too. He did let me see him; that kind of surprised me given all that's gone down."

"I know. But, things had been thawing a little between us all in recent times, so maybe it isn't all that surprising that he would let you see him," said Stacey. "His punishment seems awfully severe though."

"Actually it's not. He could've got have gotten twenty to life. But, on the one hand you are right, it is a stiff punishment anyway you look at it. Still, I have to tell you, Stacey, I don't think he had to kill those men. When all is said and done, he deserves what he's gotten even though the men he killed were bad guys," said Ronald. If it hadn't been for Nathan Ferguson's connections and influence, I'm certain it would have been much worse for him." She nodded.

"I guess," she said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 2008

My first half year at state was bad and worse than bad. It was the loneliness mostly. The nights were the worst of course, nothing to do but think and wonder how things were going back there, at his house. From the way Stacey'd talked to me that last time I'd seen her while I was still in county lockup, I was sure that what they were saying about me to Jenna as well as to each other was likely not real sympathetic or empathetic, more likely pathetic. I had to smile though; they were out of the loop and that pleased me no end.

Did I care about what they said? Not an iota. I'd done what I had to do to protect my baby, the baby the two cheaters had tried to minimize my influence with, really take from me!. I was more than doubtful that my erstwhile brother, ex-brother, would have done as much to protect her. He was way too much into the material things of life: money, station, social influence were what mattered most to him. No, he would, I was sure, have hired her the best of lawyers, bribed people, done everything in his power to get her a reduced sentence, but in the end never would he have opted to take her place behind bars; it wasn't in him.

******

"But mom, I need to go see him," said Jenna.

"Listen to me, honey. Your dad David has asked that no one come up to see him while he is in there. He told me in no uncertain terms that he just doesn't want to have visitors. He said it would be just too much for him to deal with. He will see us when he gets out; those were his words, not mine. Okay?" said Stacey.

"Mom, I need to see him. I gotta try. Okay? I mean I gotta!" she said. "I know what he said, but I gotta try."

"Jenna, your dad did an awful thing killing those three men. I mean it was a truly awful thing… " at her words her daughter broke into uncontrollable sobbing; she ran from the room.

They'd been talking in the kitchen. The back door creaked open and her husband came in holding two small grocery bags. Stacey sagged down into a chair at the kitchen table.

"Talking to Jenna," he said, correctly analyzing the despairing look in his wife's eyes and features. She nodded.

"Yes. She's intent on trying to go up to the prison and see him. He's of the same opinion as me about that, like I told you. He doesn't want to be visited. Said it would be too much for him. But Jenna… " she said.

"I guess, I understand where she's coming from. I mean she feels guilty that he did what he did because of her, to save her," said Ronald Carter. "Never mind that it was overkill."

"Exactly. She just now ran up to her room to sob some more. She hasn't stopped being melancholy since it all happened," she said. "I'm at my wits end trying to get her to a place where she can at least accept things and be patient and wait for him to get out. The lawyer said most like six or seven years." He nodded.

"I think that figures to be about right if he stays out of trouble while he's in there," he said.

"You know, my telling her what's what isn't doing it. Maybe you… " she said, and stopped. She was clearly hoping he'd finish the sentence for her.

"Okay, I'll talk to her. I already have of course, but not specifically about her wanting to go up there to see him," he said. "I guess now I have to. I know my brother would want her to be calm and patient and live her life. About that I have no doubt. It was stupid of him to kill those three men, but It's not like… well something."

"I know. It's so not his way. But maybe, you know, Jenna being in trouble. I mean maybe he thought that he didn't have a choice," she said.

"Yes, that had to be it. There's no other explanation," he said. "You know, maybe you could talk to Aunt Delia, and her to Jenna."

"Yes, that might be a way to go. I'm pretty sure she could get Jenna to listen to reason if it comes to that," said Stacey. "Yes, let's try that. I'll contact Aunt Delia tomorrow."

******

Delia Westbrook looked thoughtfully at the two visitors across the table from her.

"Of course I'll talk to her if you like," said Aunt Delia. "But, that said, I'm not sure I agree with you as to the wisdom, or unwisdom, of her going up there. And, yes, I know that David doesn't want visitors. And, even though he doesn't want them, the fact is he's going to need them, and chief among is Jenna.

"Tell you what, I'm going up there regardless. Let me talk to him about it, I mean about him allowing visitors. Maybe we can get a handle on this somehow and do the right thing. At any rate I'm going to try," she said.

The two visitors looked at each other. Stacey nodded for Ronald to take the lead.

"Aunt Delia, Stacey and I, well, we agree with David that we should all stay away from that awful place and wait till he gets home before seeing him, including Jenna," said Ronald.

His aunt smiled at him. "Ronald, Stacey, that man is part of our lives. Yes, what he did was truly awful. He's being punished enough for that. He doesn't need to be abandoned by us because of it. If you two don't want to go, or refuse to, well, that's up to you. But, I am going. And, I will ask about Jenna going, I mean being allowed to go. If he says no. well, then okay, that'll be it. But otherwise, I hope you won't try to influence Jenna not to. Okay? Please?" she said.

"Okay, Aunt Delia, if you think that's the best thing. I have to admit to really not being sure how to go with all of this. It's all just so crazy," said Stacey. Her husband nodded his agreement.

******

I was as nervous as I had ever been. I'd been inside for almost seven months and this is the first time I'd been told that I had a visitor. Any other visitor would have gotten a big fat go home! But, Aunt Delia? I'd agreed to see her; I actually wanted to.

I saw her come through the heavy door and head for the four person metal table with attached metal stools where I'd had set up camp. I rose as she approached.

"Hello, Aunt Delia," I said. She smiled her usual disarming smile, and I was, well, disarmed.

"I won't ask you how you are, David; I'm sure I already know," she said. "But, I hope you are well at least."

"I'm okay, Aunt Delia. I mean the food's bad, the company worse, and the guards heartless and mostly brainless; but health-wise I guess I'm okay," I said.

"Well, thank the Lord for that.

"You know, if you would allow, others would be up here to visit you. I know that you told Jenna and Stacey both that you didn't want visitors, but… " she said.

I nodded in acknowledgement of her words. "Yes, that's true and that is indeed the way I want it," I said.

"And me?" she said.

"You? Well, you're different," I said. "If you were to come every once in a great while, well…"

"Well, thank you for that, and I will," she said. "I'll bring cookies next time." She smiled, her attempt to make me feel a little more human I supposed.

"That'd be great," I said.

We talked for some time. I got the skinny on how the family, my ex-family was coping with the situation. I was somewhat concerned that Jenna was having so much trouble dealing with things at her end. I did not want her to fall apart. Hell, that's the reason I was certain that she could never have survived inside. I made an on the spot decision.

"Aunt, Delia, tell Jenna I will see her. I need to calm her down and get her to live her life and not worry about me. I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do, but I need her not to be acting the way she is, or reacting if that's the right term. I don't know if I can be successful in that, but I guess I gotta try," I said.

"Okay, David, I will tell her. She'll likely break speed records getting up her the next visiting day," said Aunt Delia. I had to smile at that.

"Of course I had an ulterior motives in allowing Jenna the chance to come up to see me. One, I needed her to calm down and not be so emotional about everything. And two, I wanted her to stop pressuring her two parents let her come up. Yes, I'd see her, but I would make it more than plain that I did not want her to come up anymore. The once would be it.

******

It was almost a month before I saw her, Jenna. It was a holiday, memorial day. Visitors were allowed on third Sundays of the month and national holidays; them were the rules.

"Daddy, daddy, my God how sorry I am," said my baby.

"Jenna calm down. And oh yeah, hello," I said.

"Daddy, I don't know if I can keep this up. I know what we agreed, but it is so unfair to you," she said.

"Jenna, listen to me. They would likely not believe you even if you tried to undo our agreement. But, regardless of any of that, I can do this without undue problem; you could not! Now, I need you to listen to me and obey your daddy, okay?" I said.

"Daddy… " she sobbed.

"Stop that right now. I need you to back my play, now. You need to be strong for the both of us. And, for the record those men deserved to die; they were awful people who were ruining the lives of many others, you included," I said.

"But, daddy it is so wrong," she said.

"Jenna, I see it as an opportunity to make things right by you, by all of us, even my brother," I said. "I can't explain it all to you now, not enough time, but when I get out, and I will get out, I will tell all to you and to them," I said.

"Daddy?" she said.

"When I get out," I said. "Do you think you can pull yourself together enough for us to get by this little delay we're going to have between now and our next meet up?" I was sounding as demanding as I could without hitting at her too hard.

"Okay, daddy. Daddy, I love you," she said. And that dear reader made my day, her words.

"Good!" I said. "I love you too."

We talked a little longer. I found out some stuff about her school plans: plans for college which she promised me she'd start in the fall, some months hence. I hoped she'd keep her focus; that was a critical thing for me.

At any rate I was on my own now. I had to depend on the two cheaters to raise her right for the next several years. But, as to that I was pretty confident that they would.

Jesus! I was alone and lonely and sick at heart. I would be spending a lot of sleepless nights over the next many years, and most of them, for what it's worth, would not be related to Jenna. No, they would be mostly about my lost love, Stacey Carter. God how I needed that woman! Knowing I could never have her again was destructive of my very soul!

******

I guess it was the equivalent of a Dear John letter. The sometime might've, could've, should've been new love of my life, Madeleine Carter nee Barry, didn't visit me, but she did write me. Of course she didn't try to visit me because of my prohibition against visitors from wheresoever, well, except Aunt Delia.

She was apologetic as hell. But the bottom line was that at her age she couldn't wait for me to get out. She needed a man, a husband, sooner rather than later. I understood, and I empathized with her situation. I wrote her back a note of understanding and wished her well. I wasn't sure Madeleine was a good fit for me anyway. She was great as a friend and sometime bed partner, but as a lifetime mate, soulmate, well, I wasn't sure about that. So, considering the situation as a whole, I had to figure that her abandoning me made sense. Hell, I had to believe that she would shed a few more tears than I would over the lost opportunity, so what the hey, it was what it was.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 2008

It's not my fault, so why do I feel guilty. The man, my used to be man, didn't have to kill those guys. He could have run off after he got the gun away from that Harry guy. But he shot 'em down, all of them. Oh my, what a scene that must have been! And Jenna was there to see it. I know why she is always crying now for sure: she feels responsible. If she hadn't been there, none of it would have happened. But, even allowing for that; he didn't have to kill them, certainly not all of them! Why! Why! Why! Lucky he had a good lawyer; he could have gotten the death penalty. But seven to ten years is severe enough I guess. He'll have time to think about what he did, to them, and to all of us, thought Stacey.

******

"Okay, she went up there. So…?" said Ronald Carter.

"Yes, she did. She actually did! Aunt Delia gave her the go ahead. I guess, David okay'd it with her first; then, she relayed the invitation to Jenna," said Stacey.

"And?" he said.

"And, I guess there were tears and solace and a request by him that there be no more visits by anybody until he gets out," she said.

"Hmm, so maybe in hindsight it turned out to be a good thing. I mean her going up there to see him," said Ronald. She nodded.

"I guess, I mean apparently. At least now we won't have to be pressuring her to not go. I guess that's something. I have to say that I appreciate his attitude. He's doing the right thing or trying to. Heaven knows it's little enough. He has a lot to make up for," she said.

"Yes he does. But, on the upside, Jenna will be pretty much in our circle from now on. I mean I will be able to be the dad I've so wanted to be. And, maybe I can finally sell her on the idea that I'm not just a late comer to the party," he said.

"Hmm, yes, I guess. But, her guilt at being the cause of his going up there, well, I mean we do still have to go slow. We don't want to appear to be taking advantage of the situation; that would not be good; it could backfire on us if we tried," she said.

"Yes, I see what you mean. So we just let things take their natural course. No pressure. We'll just be there, available," he said.

"Yes, exactly," she said.

"She has indicated that she wants to start college in the fall. That's just a couple of months off," he said.

"Yes. She's told me that she talked to you about that," she said. "Wants to be a lawyer, she told me."

"Well, maybe by the time he gets out she'll be one," he said. The woman smiled.

"Wouldn't that be something," she said.

"It would indeed," he said.

"A couple of months you say," she said.

"Yes, I have a contact or two. I can get her in at State even at this late date. I'll take tomorrow off and head over there and get the ball rolling. By this time next month, she'll have her classes and be all signed up and ready to go," he said.

"Good, good, very good," she said.

******

The tears rolled down her cheeks. The day was hot and humid. The pool a few scant yards across from her, as she sat under the umbrella table on their expansive patio, glistened in the afternoon sun.

She recalled better days as she sat there and waited for her man and her daughter to return from the nearby college campus. She wondered if her daughter would write the man upstate and tell him of her plans. She knew she'd told him that she was planning on going to college, but of course at the time she, Jenna, had had no details that she could reasonably have shared with him. Well, she would now.

She heard the garage door opener engage across the yard from her. They were home. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and made to get up and go into the house. She'd reminisce about her other man, the one who used to be her man, another time. She did miss the lug for sure, that would never change. She hoped he was all right, well, as all right as he could be in a place like that.

******

"Hi," he said. He threw his briefcase on to the dinette table and wrapped his arms around the woman he'd stolen from his brother.

"Hi to you too," she said, "how'd everything go?"

"Good, Jenna's in, in the school. She has an appointment with her advisor tomorrow at 3:00PM," he said. The two older adults turned toward the sound of the door opening and closing in the back of the adjacent kitchen.

Jenna entered the room and unburdened her arms of the quarter ton of papers and folders she'd been carrying in from the car.

"Hi, mom," she said.

"Hi, honey. So you're going to college," said Stacey.

"Yes, gonna get it done," said Jenna. "Dad David asked only one thing of me, to finish college. Her mother didn't frown, well, not outwardly.

"Yes, and we're asking the same thing of you," said Stacey. The younger woman smiled, but it was a weak smile and it carried a message, one her mother did not correctly interpret.

"Have you decided on a major?" said her mother.

"Pre-law," said Jenna. "Mostly Philosophy and Psychology courses after I get done with the Gen-Ed stuff. Long term it'll be Law school."

"Sounds exciting, doesn't it, dear," she said, glancing over at her husband who had somehow retrieved a beer from the kitchen without anyone noticing.

"It does indeed," said Ronald.

"So when do your classes start?" said Stacey.

"Not for a couple of months, but I did get a reading list from the advisor. I intend to hit the ground running. Anyway, I'll have most of the reading done before school starts," she said.-

The talking went on for some time, but the elephant in the room: her visit to see, and her relationship with, the man who'd raised her was not addressed.

******

The food in the mess hall at the DOC, while not exactly terrible, left a ton to be desired. Today was Thursday, chili and beans day. The place didn't smell bad enough every other day? They had to add to the odiferous awfulness of the place by serving chili and beans! Well, I guess it was a place of punishment and Thursday lunch certainly added to and enhanced that goal, boy did it ever.

There were usually around two hundred inmates served at the same time from our block, block C. I'd done my best to keep myself from making any friends, or enemies in the almost one year now since being incarcerated. But, there were two exceptions to that effort on my part. Jonathan Margoles and Hector Santos.

Hector was my cell mate; Jonathan was my boss in the kitchen. I'd been assigned to kitchen duty soon after being sent up. I'd heard from a number of my fellow inmates that the kitchen was a plum job at State. I guess it was. I could've been cleaning toilets or some other miserable job.

I'd gotten the job when I was asked to do a favor for one of the guard captains. I was pretty good at electrical and damn near nonpareil at plumbing. Captain West needed some electrical fixed in his quarters, yes he stayed at the prison, he was there Monday through Friday. He knew my qualifications: Ferguson sold a lot of stuff ordered by hardware stores, and I had to know the ins-and-outs of those tools. I'd not been a salesman per se, but I had had to deal with company reps and suppliers at different times and I had to know the stock. I guess that info was in my file. Anyway, I was tapped to help him out. The problem wasn't the electrical, well it was, but rather the fact that what he wanted done was against the rules. The phone and the computer line it served were off the grid, the prison's grid. Rumor was he used it to obtain prohibited items of luxury, even the occasional woman, for well-heeled inmates. Well, those were the rumors. I didn't give a shit; I just wanted to get along. At any rate I got the plumb job because of that.

One other benefit, for being on the right side of the captain's favor, was that I got a degree of protection from other inmates. It wasn't total, and Hector let me know that it was better to not make waves if attacked or demands were made on me especially by the gangs of which there were a few in evidence.

I'd been lucky so far, a year in and no attacks or demands. That was about to change. Captain West was transferred to a different prison. My protection was gone. I was not the member of any gang and had no group of friends to look to for protection either.

It turned out that somebody who looked like I did was in demand in our male only society.

Geoffrey Spaulding was six-three, and right at two-fifty. He thought I was pretty and he made it known that I could keep my teeth and ribs if I cooperated. And, so would begin my second year at the Department of Corrections, the institute of misery.

It was Thursday, shower day for my group in C-block. I wasn't allowed to leave; mister Spaulding made sure of that.

"On your knees and do a good job or you won't like what happens next," he said.

That I wouldn't like what was going to happen in the first place evidently didn't occur to him, or, occurring to him, didn't interest him. So, being the ultimate pragmatist, I got down on my knees as instructed took loose hold of his penis and began to suck him off.

Over the next two years I spent a lot of time on my knees. Similarly, on a few occasions I had the infinite pleasure of bending over and taking the big man up the butt. Fortunately, that wasn't often, maybe half a dozen times during the period.

Continuing on the downside, also during those two years, were a few pretty major fights with other inmates. I won two and lost two in those particular set-tos. At the end of year three or the beginning of year four, depending on how one looked at things, I caught a break.

I fell into a group that was ultra-religious and that watched out for one another. I wasn't especially religious, never had been, but all of a sudden I found it prudent to find Jesus. Being a member of the group pretty much ended my "love" affair with Geofrey Spaulding; even he didn't mess with the Jesus freaks. Not sure whether that was because he was afraid of Jesus or the forty or fifty members of the bible beaters of C-block.

******

Still, the fights, the de facto rapes bad as they were didn't come close to hurting as much as my nights alone: my nights without my wife, the woman who had dumped me for my brother, my ex-brother. Did I hate them still? I guess I did, but, that said the pain of loss was far worse than any anger I still harbored toward them hard as that might be to believe. And, hard at it might have been to believe, if she would have come back to me, I would have been willing to forgive and forget everything, all of the bad. Of course fantasies of that magnitude were not to be entertained, not seriously entertained at any rate.

I had told them that I didn't want to be visited, and I didn't. Still, I would like to have gotten at least a Christmas card or two from the lot of them; and with but two exceptions, I never did, nor any other kind of remembrance. The two exceptions to this last were birthday cards from my daughter and Aunt Delia. Each one of those had a short letter inscribed in it giving me some idea of what was going on in cheatersville. But, apart from the two of them, I heard nothing.

Though Aunt Delia had planned to visit me even bring me cookies; that never happened: she'd taken ill. She was forced to stay in a care facility, at her own request; she couldn't take care of herself well enough. Jenna let me know that the cheaters had offered to take her in, but she'd demurred. I had the feeling that she did so out of disgust with the incestuous relationship that the two of them were engaged in, but I could have been wrong about that.

******

James Ellison, age twenty-four, was waiting outside the female dorm. It was cold. He was pacing back and forth. He was in uniform: his Navy blues. She was always late and always kept him waiting, he mused. He saw her through the glass front door as she came down the stairs inside, finally.

"Hi, sorry, I'm late," she said.

"No problem, babe. Pizza?" he said.

"Sounds good," she said. They headed off to the pizza parlor, some four blocks from the dorm, on foot.

They were sitting in a booth waiting on the pizza to be done. "So have you decided about, you know, us?" he said, testing the waters. She nodded.

"The answer is yes, James. But, not until I graduate in June. You okay with that?" she said. He pulled her close to himself and kissed her, hard.

"Thank God," he said. "And, of course June is okay by me."

"How about your parents? Should we tell them, I mean tonight?" he said.

She suddenly went pensive on him. "My dad's…"

"Yes, I know, you dad's in prison. But, your other dad, your bio dad?" he said.

"Yes, he's been more of a dad to me than the one who raised me," she said.

A psychologist would have been able to explain it, maybe as a self-defense mechanism of sorts. Jenna's attitude, at least her outward attitude, toward the father that had saved her, had morphed. She now avowed how the man, David Carter, though he had undeniably saved her, was a criminal and deserved his punishment.

The morphing had been a slow process, and one that had been aided and abetted by her bio dad and her mother. Their motive, their stated motive between them, had been to get Jenna to lighten up on herself and to dump the seemingly endless melodrama that had been so in evidence during the first year of her father's incarceration.

"But, well, never mind I guess we can tell them, mom and dad Ronald," she said.

"You gonna bother to tell your other dad. I mean I know what you think of him, but… " he said.

"I guess. I do kind of owe him. I mean he did raise me. But, he won't see me, so I guess it'll have to be by letter and maybe a photo or two," she said.

He looked her askance. "Your kinda down on the guy aren't you?" he said.

"No, not really, but he is kinda something. I don't know," she said. "It's just he's so, weak or something. I mean, well, I just don't know."

"Well, he did kill those bad guys that were trying to mess with you," he said. "I mean he wasn't weak then."

The man who spoke, and was sitting across from her didn't notice the darkening of her look as he'd said this last.

It was all so long ago now. She could not recall when her opinion of her dad in prison had changed into something bordering on contempt. She was still grateful, even happy, that he had taken the fall for her, but not proud of him, if that would have been the way to say it, she thought. She'd cried her eyes out so many nights about it all, what had happened. Then, one night there were no more tears only a kind of malaise, a kind of emptiness. Then there was James, and she was saved. James understood her. Daddy Ron liked him. Her mother liked him. Daddy David?

Daddy David? Well, he'd never met him, never heard of him. Daddy David was weak, and foolish. Thinking about him now made her want to cry again, but, she couldn't; there were no more tears only something she couldn't define. She'd send him the letter. Tell him about James and her wedding plans. There'd be a couple of pics too. That would be enough; she would have done her duty, and she saw it as a duty not an act of love and hope.

******

Hank Bartlett wasn't actually stalking her, but he was hoping she'd show up as she usually did at the campus caf. He'd seen her several times and today would be the day he made his move on her, ask her to have a cup of coffee with him. They did have the same class, CJ II.

The caf was all but in an out and out uproar. His luck was holding: she'd just walked in. He sidled over to where she was filling a plate with salad fixings; he grabbed a plate and a utensil packet and came up behind her.

"Hey, Jen, how yuh doin'?" he said. She turned to look at him.

"Okay," she said.

"Mind if I join you for lunch?" he said. She shrugged.

He loaded some greens on his plate and followed her to one of the eight person tables in the middle of the auditorium like cafeteria.

They parked themselves. She didn't immediately sit, however, she headed over to the bank of drink dispensers and coffee urns some little space away from their table. She got herself a cup of coffee and returned to the table sliding in to a seat across from him.

"Hank Bartlett," he said, identifying himself in case she'd forgotten his name.

She smiled.

"I know your name," she said. "But, just so you know, I have a boyfriend, a fiancé actually."

He held up his hands in an "I surrender" mode. "No, no, I understand, a looker like you is sure to have a boyfriend if not several of them. No, I was just lookin' to have someone to have lunch with." She snickered.

"Yeah right," she said. She decided she liked the guy. She knew he was a cop or something. One of the girls in class had told her that much. He was taking Criminal Justice II for that reason; well, to get promoted was what she'd been told.

"You're an officer? Right?" she said. He let loose a little laugh.

"Kinda, I'm a guard a Wallingford State Penal Institution," he said. "I'm on leave to take this class. Hope to get promoted, well, after I pass this class."

"A prison guard? Really!" she said, trying not to sound too interested.

"Yeah, well it's a living," he said. "Pay's good."

"Isn't it dangerous? I mean with all of those bad guys in there?" she said. He smirked.

"No, not really. Not for the guards, for the inmates, well… " he said meaningfully.

"Huh?" she said, seeming to be interested in this last.

"Well, the inmates kinda do unto each other if you know what I mean," he said.

"Do unto each other?" she said. "You mean they fight?"

"Well, that, but a lot of other stuff too," he said.

"Huh?" she said. He smiled. He'd gotten her interested in himself, he thought.

"Yeah, well they rape each other sometimes, kind of a lot actually," he said. "And, they do other stuff to the weak ones; you know, if they don't cooperate. One guy got castrated in the kitchen because he wouldn't give the cook's helper oral sex. Like I said, they do unto each other."

"But aren't you guards supposed to prevent that kind of stuff? I mean the violence and all?"

"Yes and no. Women are kinda in short supply in prison and so the men do stuff to take the edge off if you know what I mean. The guards kinda look the other way most of the time. It keeps the lid on the pressure cooker if you know what I mean. And really there's no way to stop all of it even if we, the guards, did make more of an effort in that regard," he said.

"Oh my," she said. The man across from her didn't quite catch the urgency in her voice.

She'd not thought of anything like what she'd just learned. She began to worry anew about her dad in that place, the place she should have been in instead of him. The tears, long dried up until now, came again. She had to try and go see him, maybe with James along for support. Yes, James could maybe help her to deal with what she had to deal with. But, first things first: she'd write that letter she'd considered writing about her and James, and send a pic or two with it as she had also planned.

******

The guard threw the letter in through the bars; it was still in the envelope but it had been opened and read by the powers. I opened it and began to read. It was from Jenna. The pictures were interesting. So, she had a young man. No big surprise there, and he was a sailor. Met him in college, she said.

I reread the single page several times. I'd gotten a couple of cards from her in the past, but this was the first letter per se, and, the first pics.

There'd been no mention of her mother, my ex. Oh how bad I wanted to hear from her, or at least of her. But, that was not a realistic hope and I knew it. She was gone and never to be mine again, not even on a friendship basis, not really, not after my incarceration.

I was sure that Jenna had kept my, our, secret. That had to be ironclad. It's the way I wanted it, and it's the way it had to be. My baby came first even if my baby was not my blood.

And, then the surprise of my entire so far six year stay in prison appeared out of nowhere.

"A visitor? Who?" I said.

"Not, sure, but she's young," said the screw. "Your daughter maybe?" he said.

"Tell her no. I don't want to see her," I said.

"You sure?" said the guard.

"Yeah, I am," I said.

I would find out later, much later, that it had been my daughter that showed up unannounced. And, I didn't know it at the time, but her fiancé had been with her. On one level I would like to have seen her, but I did not, could not, deal with the feelings a meet up like that one was bound to unleash on the both of us. I would send her a note reiterating my reasons for not seeing her. That had to be enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 2013

I looked up at the beat up calendar my cellmate had somehow managed to get put up on the wall behind the seatless toilet at the back our little space. In two weeks it will have been six years since my incarceration. I was hurting, hurting bad.

I missed her so much, my Stacey, and I cried almost daily because of that reality. I needed her so bad! My God I did. Oddly, crazily, the physical pain and humiliation of all of those other things was kind of cathartic. Cathartic because they took my mind off of my worst agonies. I hoped she was all right. I did. I hoped my Jenna was all right. Aunt Delia had said she was when last I'd seen her. And the letter, it was filled with hope or so I read into it of Jenna and her young man, the sailor.

I was always melancholy anymore. I wondered if I died in this horrible place if anyone would give a damn one way or the other. I mean besides Aunt Delia. I had to think that Jenna would shed a tear or two: I mean I had done all I could for her.

And, so my thoughts enslaved me, destroyed me a little more each day. And, then it was evening and morning at the start of year seven.

*****

The knock on the door was unexpected. Stacey Carter answered it.

"Aunt Delia!" she said, surprised to see the older woman.

"Hello, Stacey, may I come in?" said Aunt Delia.

"Of course, of course," said Stacey. The younger woman led her aunt toward the informal dinette near the kitchen. The two women settled into two chairs at the table.

Stacey suddenly looked stricken. "Oh my gosh," she said, "where are my manners! Aunt Delia would you like something? Coffee, tea?"

"Coffee if you have it made," she said. "It's the one addiction I still can plead guilty to." Stacey smiled, and headed into the kitchen. She put together a new pot of coffee and came back to sit across from the older woman while it brewed.

"So anyway, what brings you here today? How are you doing? I mean… " said Stacey.

"I'm better. I take my meds regularly and follow doctor's orders and I'm doing better," said Aunt Delia.

"That's good to hear, Aunt Delia," said Stacey

"As you know, early on I went up to see David in that awful place," said Aunt Delia. The other woman nodded.

"Yes, well, as you also know I haven't been able to get up there since because of my health: I can't drive; it's too far," she said.

"Yes, I know," said Stacey.

"But, Winnie has gotten up there, this past week actually," said Aunt Delia.

"Winnie?" said Stacey.

"Winifred Clark, the lawyer that handled David in your divorce, and helped out Mr. Ferguson some in his criminal trial too," said Aunt Delia. "She and I have been in contact for some time."

"Oh yes, I remember her," said Stacey.

"The news isn't good," said Aunt Delia.

"Huh? What news?" said Stacey.

"David's in a bad way, Stacey, a very bad way. Winnie, Miss Clark, has seen fit to confide in me things that David told her not to reveal. But, being the good person that she is, she took it upon herself to speak to me, as she said, in David's best interests."

"Aunt Delia, what's happened to him?"

"He's in the prison infirmary. He was gang raped. He lost so much blood that he was actually in danger of dying. The good news is that he has survived, but it was a close thing and the prison establishment is trying to minimize it, the crime that is," she said.

"What!" said Stacey.

"Yes, evidently two guards stood around laughing while he was being raped by several men, inmates. The two guards were allowed to quit to avoid prosecution.

"David initially needed reconstructive surgery, to, well, his rectum; that in addition to treatment for other serious injuries. Best guess? He'll be in the infirmary for another month according to Winnie," said Aunt Delia.

"Aunt Delia, all of that is just awful. I feel for David. I really do. But, what can I do or Ronald?" said Stacey.

"Winnie is going to try to get him an early release date. She's not sure if she can be successful, but she is going to try. She might ask you and Ronald if you could at least guarantee that he'd have a job if she is able to in fact get him an early parole," said Aunt Delia.

"Aunt Delia, I'm sure we could work out something for him in that regard. But-David…?"

"Yes, yes, I know. He's been bitter and angry about everything that has happened to him and all. But, I think he's mellowed some over these past several years, and maybe the carrot of an early parole contingent on him being able to find a job would see him willing to work for Ronald's business in some capacity, almost any capacity is what I think," she said.

Stacey nodded. "Well, if that's so, let his lawyer, Miss Clark, know that we will see to it he is gainfully employed," said Stacey.

"Good, good, that is very good to hear. I know you and he and Ronald, well, things haven't been so good. But, maybe this, situation, might get things back to something resembling normal," she said. Stacey nodded.

"I hope so," she said.

******

She looked over at her husband who'd taken on a pensive look. "Well," said Stacey.

"Yes, yes, of course," said Ronald. "We'll make the offer. But, the question then remains, will be accept it?"

"Aunt Delia seems to think that he will. I can't imagine that he hates us so much that he'd turn down a chance for early release from prison," she said.

"Maybe," he said. "Anyway, we'll make the offer. Actually, I'm going to ask you to do that, I mean if he gets out. He hates me, you, he only misses and wants."

"Hah, if only that were true. I think he hates me too if not as much as he hates you," she said.

"How soon do you think he might get out, I mean if he does," he said.

"Don't know. Aunt Delia didn't say, but I don't think she knew anyway. The lawyer is working on it, but how soon she'll make the formal request or whatever? I don't know about that either," she said.

"You know there's one other thing that might cause problems," he said.

"Jenna?" she said.

"Yes, how do you think that she's going to react to him being out? I mean she saw him kill three men right before her eyes?" he said.

"He did it, at least ostensibly, to save her," she said.

"Yes, ostensibly, but I don't think that that was the case. I think he did it to get some relief from all of his pent up anger. Anger directed toward us. Those guys, druggies and bad guys that they were notwithstanding, were just in a very bad place at a very bad time. He murdered them, Stacey. My brother, and yes he is still that to me, is a killer, a murderer. I don't think he'd do anything like that again, but who knows really," he said.

She suddenly turned pale. "I mean you think… " she started.

"No, no, I'm not afraid of him or of him hurting any of us, us being you and me, not really; but I do intend to be cautious nonetheless," he said.

"Okay," she said, and she shivered.

******

"Yes, honey, he is hurt. But he still doesn't want to see any of us until he gets out; well, except evidently our Aunt Delia," said Stacey.

"But Aunt Delia said… " started Jenna.

"Aunt Delia said you should try and write to him not to go up to see him," said Ronald Carter. Jenna sagged back in her seat on the couch. She nodded.

"Okay. I will write him, but I don't know why, after all of this time, that he won't let us come and see him. It makes no sense to me," said Jenna.

"I think he is ashamed of what he did, Jenna," said Ronald. He killed three men and he is paying for that and he deserves to pay for it, but he just can't find it in him to see us under, well, under his current circumstances. Okay?"

The man didn't notice the look in the eyes of his hearer. Jenna turned and walked out of the room and upstairs. She had some thinking to do. What daddy Ronald had said was true, she knew, but maybe, if she just showed up, up there at the prison, he'd let her see him this time. She had to think hard about that. It had been too long, and she felt worse than she ever had knowing, as she now did, that he was in a bad way in the hospital.

She knew what she had to do, what she would do! She'd go to see that lawyer, daddy David's lawyer.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT 2013

It'd been a long day and Winnifred Clark was bushed. She was looking forward to a night kicking back, maybe stop at the Silver Spur for a drink or two before actually going home.

The knock on her office door surprised her. She frowned. It was after closing. The "We're Closed" sign was already prominent in the opaque glass at the front of her suite of offices. She went to the door and opened it.

"Jenna? Jenna Carter?" she said. She'd met the young woman a number of times but not in the last several years. But, here she was.

"Yes, Miss Clark. May I come in for a moment? Please?" she said. She older woman stepped aside and indicated with a motion of her hand that the younger one should enter.

"Certainly, come in," she said.

Seated, the older woman could see that the younger one was uncomfortable. A moment passed before she broke the ice.

"Jenna? Something you needed to tell me, ask me?" She said.

"Miss Clark, my auntie told me that my daddy David is in the hospital," said Jenna.

"Yes, yes he is," said Winnie.

"Well, I'd like to go and see him, but he has told me, told all of us, that he didn't want any visitors up there at the prison," she said. "But, if he's hurting…"

"Yes, yes, I know how you feel. But, except for your auntie, he is adamant about having no visitors while he is a prisoner up there," she said.

"It's all my fault Miss Clark. I need to see him. For a long time I just put those kinds of thoughts aside and tried not to dwell on things, well, you know. I just tried to get on with things. But, now he's hurt. My dad is hurt and I need to see him," she said.

"It's not your fault, Jenna. Your dad made a mistake and he's being punished for that. Yes, I know it was because you were hanging around with the wrong crowd and all; but in the end he didn't have to kill those men, not all of them anyway. They were bad men, it is true, but they didn't need to die for their crimes.

"All of that said, your dad is a good and gentle man at heart. He'll get out of jail one of these days, and he'll be able to start over. When that day comes, he'll need you to support him emotionally, believe me. Jenna, I've seen a lot of that over the years. He definitely will need your support. He's going to be a very different man when he gets out than when he went in, and he will need tons of TLC if I'm any judge," she said.

"It is my fault Miss Clark. Oh my, never mind, I have to go," said Jenna. She all but jumped up and ran out leaving the older woman to wonder.

Winnie Clark, sensed something, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Something wasn't right, for sure something wasn't right. Why was Jenna Carter so adamant that she was at fault for her father being in prison? True, it was to intervene to get her out of a bad situation that the whole terrible scene had gone down, but was that all there was to it? Yes, that had to be it, but…?

She was working on his parole. It did look promising. The prison was responsible for what had happened to him in there, to David Carter. They could be sued, and the guards prosecuted for negligence maybe even as co-perpetrators in the case of the guards. Yes, she was pretty sure that David Carter would soon be walking out into the sunlight. The gang rape that put him in the infirmary actually looked to be the vehicle that would get him out. The question was in what condition would he be in once he did get out?

She'd seen any number of cons get released and have little or no life worth living after the fact. She gotten to know the man over the years, as she made the mandatory visits a lawyer made to advocate for his situation inside and his opportunities for parole: these at the behest of his case lawyer Nathan Ferguson. She was perhaps more assiduous in his case than in most others she'd had to deal with because of the gentle nature that the man exhibited. She'd actually grown to like the man. His crime was awful, but she could rationalize his irrationality exhibited in the heat of the moment that awful day some six years and more gone now.

She'd be talking to him soon. The parole board would be meeting in one month to decide his fate. Yes, she'd be talking to him for sure.

******

She lay passively beneath him as he continued to screw her. She smiled up at him periodically as he slowly drove his eight inch cock into her. She couldn't help but think about her other man, her David, and yes and again he was still that on some level, about how he had been raped and beaten to give pleasure to other men, evil men. She felt guilty about the pleasure she felt being with Ronald, her Ronald. He was wonderful as a bed partner, far better than her David. But, David had been good too, in other ways. She was still so sorry for hurting him so.

Trying to get him to accept his true role, his biologically defined role, as Jenna's uncle instead of her father had been the worst for her David; she knew that now. And, Ronald in spite of everything deserved to be Jenna's father, her real father; he'd done more for her than David ever had or could. But, in the end, it had been David, albeit badly, who had bailed Jenna out of a bad situation. She made a pact with herself to try her best to help him when he got out of prison; she owed him that; yes she did.

The man on top of her sped up. He was ramming her with everything he had, almost hurting her but in a good way a supreme way. She felt herself arching up to meet his savage thrusts. He was crushing her with his arms wrapped around her torso oh so tightly: the bull mastering the female.

******

He looked back as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom. She sure was beautiful. Taking her from his brother had been the lowest. Claiming his daughter back from his brother? Not so much. She was his. Yes, he'd agreed back then before the killings to allow David to regain a piece of his fatherhood status back. He hadn't liked it much then and he would like it even less now if the man did get out soon like seemed to be the case. He was a killer. He really didn't want him around her, but, she was an adult now and there wasn't anything he could do to stop her from consorting with him if she was of a mind to.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 2013

The meeting with the judge had gone well. Winifred Clark did have some friends at court, and with Nathan backing her efforts the meeting had gone, well, well. This was one trip to the prison that she was actually looking forward to.

She pulled into the spacious fenced in parking area and strode to the gatehouse that led to the inner grounds of the DOC. Admitted, she headed for the hall where inmates met with their family members and sometimes their lawyers. It was more informal than the small rooms lawyers and the police alone could use when privacy was the issue. Privacy was not a requirement today.

She saw him coming toward her through the heavy steel door that separated the inside cell block from the hall.

She stood and smiled as he approached. He had been walking slowly, and he took his seated almost gingerly. He was clearly still feeling some pain as a result of his injuries.

"David, good to see you," she said. "Have you gotten the news?"

"Yes, this morning. I don't know how to thank you and Nathan," he said.

"Okay, but we were just doing our job. But, at any rate, you'll be out of here in a week's time. I will alert your family as to that if that's all right with you," she said.

He shrugged his tacit approval. "I guess," he said.

"Well, okay then," she said.

The two of them talked for some time and made the arrangements for her to pick him up and take him to the half-way house that he'd be required to stay at until he was employed. He was concerned about that. He'd try to get his old job back, but he knew that that one was a long shot since Milton Ferguson had died but a year before and there had never been any love lost between himself and Gerald Ferguson, now the sole owner of Ferguson Bros. Wholesalers. But, he'd try, yes he would.

******

Nathan and Winnie, and yes that's what I called her anymore, had come through for me. I was finally getting out. Oddly, I was actually fearful about what would be coming next. Who might there be there to greet me, if anyone, when I got out? I didn't expect anyone; I hadn't informed anyone that I was getting out, not sure why. I had told Winnie to let them know, but then I'd written her that I'd changed my mind. I wanted to be back in the city before I saw anyone.

Three more days, the screw had told me. I'd be released. I had no place to go except the half-way house. I'd be stuck there until I could find me a job. I had to get a job. Well, it was better than nothing, the halfway house. I was forty-seven years old and twenty pounds lighter than when I went in. Health? So-so, it was relative, I guess.

******

The screw waved to me. He didn't like me. His Name was Carlos, we'd had words before, he and I. Nothing big, but we didn't get along. I think he considered me a pansy; I wasn't, but after the gang rape thing, that's how he saw me; well, that's what I thought whether true or not. But anyway, he waved to me. Well, so what.

I felt numb. Not good, not bad, just numb. More than six years gone, almost seven, time lost forever, but my baby was safe. I started walking. I heard the gate slam behind me, but I didn't turn to see it; I'd seen enough of that damn place to last a lifetime. Even the infirmary, where I'd spent all but the last month and a half of the past four months, was anathema to me.

I'd done all I could for my daughter. It kinda bothered me that she wasn't here to give me a ride. I wondered if she knew exactly when I was getting out. She shouldn't have, given my desire as expressed to my lawyer in my letter to her. But well anyway, it was what it was.

I really wanted to be away from there before I saw anybody. I started walking.

It was a two mile walk to the bus stop. The small tube bag I was carrying was not exactly a burden: a change of clothes, a couple of personal items were about it. Oh, and I had two-hundred and fourteen dollars to my name.

I'd figured I'd gone maybe half a mile when I heard the car behind me.

"Hey, cowboy, need a ride," yelled the driver.

"Lawyer lady," I said and smiled. "Yeah, I could use one."

We drove in silence for the first few miles to town. She broke the ice.

"Gotta drop you at the halfway house," she said." It's part of the deal."

"Yeah, that's fine," I said. "I'll get a job and won't be there for long." She nodded.

"Yes, that's the way to be thinking. They have a half way decent placement service there. Anything you'd like to be doing, I mean jobwise?" she said.

"Not really, almost anything. I'm gonna be starting over," I said. "I just need something to pay the rent so to speak."

"David, can I ask you something?" she said.

Her tone of voice made me want to say no, but she'd gotten me out sooner rather than later; I owed her.

"Sure," I said.

"Did you do it?" she said. I gave her a look that had to have been one of shock.

"Next question," I said, doing my best to let her know I didn't want to answer her first one.

"Jenna kind of tipped me. She didn't exactly tell me, but I was able to figure it out from her tone of voice as you might say," she said.

"Like I said, next question," I said.

"Okay, okay, I guess you've answered me anyway. Someday, you and I will have to talk," she said. I just stared straight ahead.

We pulled into the lot at the rear of the halfway house and parked. I thanked her for the ride and turned to go; then, I turned back.

"Winnie, forget about what you think you know. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, David, for now, but the time will come when you and I will be talking. Okay?" she said. I just shook my head and went inside to check in.

She'd dropped me at the halfway house. It was well named: it was halfway across town, my town, well the one I was from. She made me promise to call her on Friday, that was three days hence. She waved me goodbye.

I headed inside to check in. Settled into a small, very small cubicle of a room with no lock on the door. I decided to sleep, and I did.

Over the next few days I met with the in-house psychologist, then the warden, he called himself the manager. After those meetings and a half day orientation, I was more or less on my own; I made plans to go job hunting. I had to have a job within the next six months; that was the limit on my right to free room and board.

******

I'd been out a week before I finally got up the nerve to try to get my old job back. I had gone to see the man, and he wouldn't even grant me the courtesy of a meeting with him. The secretary, his secretary, was tasked with letting me know that I was essentially persona non grata. Well, I'd kinda figured that he'd turn me down. I knew the man and he was most definitely not my pal, never had been.

I was sitting on the steps of the house moping when a shadow interposed itself between me and the late afternoon sun. I looked up.

Man, she sure did look beautiful. The woman would always be that to me. "Stacey!"

"Yes, it's me, can't fool you," she said. She was smiling, sort of.

"Yeah, I guess not," I said.

"You know you could've let us know you were out," she said. Her tone was reproving.

"I was going to, just wanted to be settled in and employed before I came around.

"Can I ask… " I started.

"She's fine. I know she'll want to see you as soon as you're willing, ready," she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. "I should be able to find a job pretty soon. Then, like I say…"

"That's part of why I'm here, David. If you're amenable, we, Ronald and I would like to offer you a job. You'd be able to get out of here and start over. I mean if you'd be amenable to us helping you out a little," she said.

I'd turned them down every way I could before, mainly because I hated him so much. But now? I frowned.

"No, I don't think so. Working for him, for you? No, I don't think so. It wouldn't work," I said.

"David, please. It's time to let it all go," she said.

"No, I have to do for myself. I'll be fine. I do want to see my daughter, but no, I don't need any handouts from him. Not ever from him," I said.

"David, this bitterness has to die. It has to. Yes, we did you wrong. But…"

"I said no," I said. She shook her head.

"Okay, the offer's open and will remain so. I hope you change your mind," she said. And, then she was gone, a few standard words of goodbye and she was gone.

******

I was finally able to land a job, nothing to write home about, but it paid three bills a week and I was allowed to use a little room the place had in the back to shack up in. The Hard Hat Bar and Grill needed a janitor and a part time security guard for the wee smalls, so I took the job. Sleeping in the back guaranteed that there'd be security if here were any more attempted break-ins; there'd been a few over the previous year, and Arnold McCaffrey, the owner wanted to put an end to those happenstances. Arnie had spent a little time in the joint too, burglary when he was a lot younger. Hence, my free place of residence in my off hours.

******

"He wouldn't take it," he said. The question was rhetorical.

"No, he's still bitter. This is beyond belief actually. I just don't know what the man wants. I mean what it would take to get him to lighten up," said Stacey.

"Trying to get him to accept His uncle-hood was a mistake," said Ronald. "I think that that is what drove him from us even more than anything else." She nodded.

"I guess," she said. "He will never forgive us for that. But, really, I think it was more the whole thing. I mean the divorce, your paternity, and of course as you say the uncle-hood thing. That last was just the final straw for him."

"Yeah, I suppose your right," he said.

"I did tell him the door, I mean the job, would remain open to him if he changes his mind," she said.

"Good, I guess that that is the best we can do," he said.

"He wants to see her," she said.

"Yes, I can imagine. Does she even know he's out?" he said.

"I haven't told her. Heck, we didn't even know ourselves till the day before yesterday. So no, I don't think she knows. I guess we should call her and let her know and how to contact him. If we don't, we risk looking like the bad guys in it all," she said.

"Yes, I suppose you're right about that too," he said.

CHAPTER THIRTY 2013

Settled in, I guess you could say that's what I was, felt good to me. I was actually getting a little better than minimum wage at the HH, nine bucks an hour, and I got breakfast and dinner included in the deal. And the food was a whole lot better than at state.

I had people to see of course, chief among them was Jenna. I needed to talk to her about keeping up the fiction we'd created between us that almost seven years ago now. That figured to be no problem unless there was something I was not privy to. Yes, Winnie had apparently pretty much figured it out, but she was the only one and I was more than confident of her keeping my confidence, and Jenna's of course. Then I got the visitor I really didn't want to see, Ronald Carter.

"Got a minute, bro," said the voice behind me that I immediately recognized. I turned to face him.

"For you? No," I said. I turned back away and continued wringing out the mop I'd just brought out to clean up the mess somebody'd left near the rear entrance way.

"Please, David. Cut me some slack here. I'll only take a minute or two of your time, and then I'll leave you alone if you want," he said.

Figuring he was not going to leave me alone if I didn't hear him out, I turned back to him once more.

"Whaddya want, asshole? You took my wife away from me, tried to take my kid away too, and pretty much ruined my life; so what is it do you think that I want to have to do with you," I said.

"David, yes, I guess you have a gripe when it comes to me taking Stacey away from you, but you haven't lost your daughter, our daughter; nor did I ruin your life. You did the latter yourself when you killed those three bums," he said.

"Whatever," I said. "So what do you want? I'm working and I don't have time for the one I hate most in the world."

"Hate is a strong word, David. Really," he said.

"Let me put it this way, Ronald Carter, ex-brother. Inside I was raped numerous times. Beat up even more than that. And, compared with you, I love those guys. Yeah, hate's a strong word, do yuh think! And, get this, I hate you!" I said, "And I always will."

"David, I came here to offer you a deal," he said.

"Don't want it," I said. "Now, you can leave."

"Hear me out. Okay?" he said.

"What! I'm busy," I said.

"How does fifty grand annual sound to you?" he said.

"Money? A job? Fuck you," I said. "Stacey was worth way more than that to me. Tell her that. Maybe it'll make her feel bad about dumping me for a player like you," I said.

"Man you are something for damn sure," he said.

"I didn't ask you to come here and offer me money as some kind of consolation prize. I never want to see your ugly face again. Do I make myself clear?" I said.

"Yeah, I guess," he said.

"Fuck you and fuck off, asshole. You wanna do me a favor just get lost and stay lost! That's all I'm ever going to ask of you."

The man nodded and left. I think he was feeling down, but who knew. What I was pretty sure of was the likely fact that he would henceforth be leaving me alone. Well, I could hope.

The next days were busy for me. Well, I was setting up my new life. Bank account, driver's license, even though I didn't have a car anymore, and a few other things along the same lines. I was almost ready to make the tour.

Then I got the visitor that I did want to see, my daughter.

God she was pretty. Just like her momma, I mean just like her. I was so proud and so glad that I'd been able to step up to protect her. If I never did anything else worth a damn in my life that would be enough, I thought, as I watched her stride purposefully toward me.

"Daddy!" she cried as she got close. She nearly crushed me with her hug. "Are you okay? Momma told me, just an hour ago, that you were out. I'd have been here sooner, but your place, this place was a little hard to find."

"Yes, I'm fine baby. Really fine, now I see you," I said.

"Daddy, I'm going to be married soon. You've got to walk me down the aisle too," she said.

Huh?" I said.

"Yes, you know. I sent you a picture of my man. We're getting married three weeks from next Saturday," she said. "I'm just glad you're out and can be there for the ceremony." Another hug and another near thing breath-wise.

"Uh-okay," I said. "But…"

"Yes, you and daddy Ronald can walk me down the aisle together, Okay!" she said, brightly.

My mood darkened. I thought fast. "No, I can't be there. I'm working," I said. "Uh-wish I could.

"We'll get together one of these days," I said. "But, I have to get back to work now. A guy like me needs to stay on the good side of the boss, you understand. Right?" I said.

"But, it's my wedding day!" she said.

"Well you've got him to walk you down the aisle, so that should be a winner for you," I said. "Anyway, I've got to get back to it. See you later." I rushed off before she could see me break up. I could feel my eyes already clouding up.

The bitterness I felt toward that man was now so far beyond the pale that all I could think of was dying or maybe killing him and then dying.

I was out and on Parole. It was a loose parole as such things went, but I couldn't leave the state, and moving any significant distance away from them all was gonna be problematical. But, I knew I had to find a different job and a different place to stay. I didn't want to be found. Oh, I knew his money could find me if he decided to go that way, but I was more than confident that I was going to be proof to that. He'd get his way now, the kid was his, clearly. He'd made inroads with her while I was inside and Jenna had allowed it. Share her? Walk her down the aisle with him! When it froze where the devil lived!

I quit my new job and headed out into the night. My tube bag was full and I had three hundred and nineteen dollars in my pocket. Hell, I was flush and fancy free.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE 2013

"Honey, how did he act? I mean was he angry? What?" said Stacey.

"No. He just acted kind of strange," said Jenna.

"You know with everything going on. I mean him getting out and all; it didn't even occur to me that he might not want to, well, you know, share you on your wedding day," said Stacey.

"Share me? What share me? He's my dad! Daddy Ron is my dad too! What share me are you talking about," said Jenna.

"Honey, you know exactly what I'm talking about. When you came to live with us after the divorce, well, your dad just couldn't get over it. Never has. That he essentially abandoned you by killing those men and going to prison for it, well…

"Anyway, your daddy Ron, has been there for you. Not so much your daddy David. Daddy David has to get that and understand that his brother, your daddy Ron, deserves to be there for you. He should not be cut out of your life because David Carter is bitter," said Stacey. "Frankly I'm kind of angry with my ex-husband for his intransigence."

"But… " started Jenna.

"I know he's suffered, but he deserved his punishment and he needs to get over his pique and understand that your daddy Ron has earned the right to be by your side on your wedding day," said Stacey. "Heck, your daddy David should feel honored that you are allowing him to share the day with your daddy Ron."

Suddenly, the younger of the two women burst into sobbing and ran from the room.

******

"What in the heck is going on, Stacey," said Ronald Carter. "I have a job to take care of, a business. I can't be running in and out of the shop every time that girl of ours has a hissy fit. Please have her come downstairs. I, we, need to talk to her. This is the living end!"

"Yes, I think that it is time," said Stacey.

Ronald Carter could hear the uproar upstairs and was glad he was downstairs. It was some twenty minutes later that a clearly chastened Stacey descended those stairs. She was as pale as she had ever been. Entering the dinette area, where her more than impatient husband had stationed himself, she turned to face him. The far off look in her eyes frightened the big man.

"Stacey?" he said.

"Oh my," she said, quietly. She threw a dirty dress onto the couch beside where he was standing.

"Stacey? What?" he said. She shook her head clearly not wanting to talk but needing to.

"Ronald… " she started and stopped. She began to cry, silently cry.

"Ron, he's not s killer. He's a hero," she said.

"Huh?" What are you talking about," said Ronald Carter.

"He didn't kill those men, Ron, she did!" she said, and now the sobbing wouldn't be, couldn't be, stopped. She pointed to the dress. "It's the proof. David told her to burn it, but she didn't; she kept it. It's undoubtedly covered in GSR. Ron, David took the fall for our baby! My God what are we going to do!"

"Stacey, what are you talking about," he said. He'd understood her, but the reality of what she'd said was not believable, not close to believable.

"She killed them, Ron. She killed them. David took the fall for her. She called him to come and he came. He saw the horror, and he made her let him take the fall for her. My fucking wimpy-assed-no good-in-bed-whiny-pretty much-useless ex-husband saved her. I mean saved her! God damn him for it! How am I or you either, ever going to make things right by him! How! Tell me how! How fucking how!" she all but screamed.

The man across from her slumped to the floor. He sat straight legged on the floor his back against the teak wood credenza.

For her part, Stacey Carter went to her knees beside him. Both cried. Speech, thought, action nothing was possible at that moment but pain and tears.

******

The three of them stared at each other across the dinette table. Jenna looked up. There was an actual pool of wet, tears wet, on the wooden surface in front of her.

"Mom, dad, I don't know what to say. Everything is so mixed up. I mean my wedding, my future husband, my dad… " she said.

"Jenna, your dad did what he did for you because he loves you. He's a hero, our hero. Oh, and make no mistake, we love you too. That said, you need to keep your promise to him. That means no one, and I mean no one, is to know what happened that day, what really happened. We will do our very best and more to make things right by our David, but no matter what else, the happenings of that day must never be spoken of again. Never!" said Ronald Carter, "not even among ourselves."

"Jenna, as far as your wedding and your husband are concerned; well, that's up to you. Your father here and I will support anything you decide, but for what it's worth, James, your intended should not be told. It may be that he could handle it, but then again; well, maybe not. This, thing, has got to remain one of those family secrets that can never be brought to light; there is no possible upside to doing so.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO 2013

I caught myself starting to laugh. I mean laugh? I'd been screwed over by everybody in sight and I wanted to laugh. Why? Because of the impossible incongruity of it all. I was more than certain that the lot of them wanted to be nice to me. But their condescending gift giving, privilege granting efforts were so insulting that it was laughable! Hence my impulse, my almost irresistible need to laugh. Such of course would be followed by the equally strong urge to cry. Well, it was what it was. Yes indeed.

Creature of habit that I was, I found myself doing the same thing I'd been doing when last I was employed. I was in Tucson. Poindexter's, a sawdust joint with a nice bar and a piss poor grill, catered to wannabe cowboys. On Friday and Saturday nights there was live music, all Country Western of course-I was still in Arizona-and the hoofers worked off a whole lot of calories trying to out shine each other.

My shift was five in the Morning to noon. Mostly clean up and fill up: cleaning up the place and filling up the vending machines and the beer taps. Poindexter's opened at noon for lunch and the early bar flies, and closed uniformly at one in the morning seven days a week. Like the HH in Phoenix I had a small room in the back which suited me just fine.

I spent most of my time either sleeping or working. Oh, and thinking about my ex-family. I wasn't overly sentimental about it, them. I did miss Aunt Delia, the rest of them not so much; I hoped she was all right. I wonder what they'd told her about my reason for cutting country.

I'd made the decision to pick up the pieces of my life and get on with things. Fifty-one years old and starting over-again!

My lawyer, had been able to get me a change of venue per my parole: I could move to anywhere I wanted in the state and I'd be okay. An added benefit as a result of her efforts was that I would have finished my parole after one more year of keeping my nose clean. Of course I did ask that she keep my whereabouts on the quiet.

Tucson was a nice town. It was a hundred miles away from my erstwhile family. I had no illusions about that though, my brother could find me, I was sure, if he really wanted to, find out where I was: money talks as they say. But, I was more than confident that he wouldn't bother. And for more than a year I was right; and then, I wasn't.

******

"How did you find out where he was?" said Stacey.

"Just went and asked his probation officer, the old one, to check for me. I wasn't sure about doing it. I mean my erstwhile brother clearly doesn't want to be found. But, like you, I really need to talk to the guy," said Ronald.

"You think he'll listen," she said. He shrugged.

"It's been a year. Oh, and I also found out that he's not on parole anymore. He can go anywhere that suits him now. But, he is still in state, in Tucson. I have to think he's missing Jenna, and maybe Aunt Delia if no one else," he said. "That might be why he hasn't moved all that far."

"A year? Has it been that long?" she said. She went pensive on him. "We'll need to be bearing gifts or ideas or something other than our good looks to get him to give us a sympathetic hearing."

"Well, Jenna did postpone her wedding until he can be found. And, James sure didn't like that much, but he has hung in there waiting for her to get her act together," he said. "When our David hears about that maybe he'll come around, walk her down the aisle and cut us a tiny bit of slack. I mean we gotta try." She nodded.

"I guess," she said. "When are you planning for us to go there? I mean it is a hundred miles away."

"Next weekend, I have that doctor's appointment on Monday, and some business to take care of during the week. Bu after that…

I'll be offering him a job again too. I'll let him write his own ticket this time. After all he's been through; setting limits seems like a real loser. I just hope he doesn't ask for you to divorce me and remarry him. I'd rather he ask for half the kingdom if you get my drift," he said.

"After all I've done to him, I sincerely doubt that he'll be asking me to come back to him," she said.

"Don't be so sure. He likely won't ask, but it's what he wants; I know it," he said. She snickered.

"Yeah, right!" she said.

******

Well, it was Friday night and Poindexter's was crowded and busy. Tucson, I'd figured, was made to order for me; it was far away from them. But, as it turned out, not far away enough.

I'd taken a seat at the end of the bar to watch the action on the dance floor. A dozen couples were hoofing it. They were one of the couples, my ex-wife and my ex-brother. So, they'd found me. They hadn't seen me yet. I could've just gotten the hell out of there and moved again. But, I decided not to. I'd talk to them, and send the message that I just didn't want them to bother me anymore. I wondered if they knew the truth about Jenna and me. I figured it was six to five and pick 'em that they did. Well, I'd soon know.

The song ended and they headed for the table they'd set up shop at. I signaled LeAnn, the floor girl delivering drinks to the populace to come over.

"Whatcha got, David?" she said. "Need another one of those?" she said pointing to my beer.

"No, but deliver another round of whatever they're having to them over there," I said, "on me." She gave me a look and went to do my bidding.

I sat and watched as LeAnn delivered my offering. Stacey's head snapped around to spot me when LeAnn nodded in my direction. Her expression was at first a small smile then a question. My ex-brother was already out of his seat and coming toward me.

"Can I assume that we're not persona non grata, I mean you buying us those Martinis?" he said.

"What are you here for, Ronald?" I said, not answering his question. "Having fun I hope." Okay, I was being snide.

"Oh, the dancing," he said. He seemed to realize that the image of him melded tight to my ex-wife's body might have been kind of in my face. "No, no, no. We were just killing time. I liked the song is all. Really."

"Yeah, whatever. But why are you here, and her. I can't believe you came all this way just rub my nose in it," I said."

"David, nobody's rubbing your nose in it. My God we're not. But, anyway, to answer your question, we came for a couple of reasons; but would you be okay with joining us so we could talk. I mean at our table over there," he said. I looked over to where my ex-wife was watching us closely.

"Okay, for a minute or two, I guess," I said. Well, I was curious about his couple of reasons. Also, I needed to know if they knew that which they shouldn't know about.

I grabbed my beer and indicated that he should lead the way. I could see Stacey sag back in her seat in tentative relief if that would be the way to say it.

He took his seat next to her and motioned me to sit as well. For some reason I felt strange, not mad or upset necessarily, but strange that he was sitting next to her instead of me. It seemed unnatural in spite of all of the time since the break up and my time in prison and all of it.

I sat. "So?" I said. He looked meaningfully over at his wife.

"It's good to see you, David. Really good to see you, really," she said. I shrugged in my seat.

"You look good," I said, "very pretty." She flushed.

"Thank you. You looked good too," she said. I didn't snicker.

"A couple of reasons?" I said looking back at my ex-brother.

"Yes," he said. "But, if I may," he said. I waited for him to go on. It was my silent signal for him to do so.

"Okay, can I ask why you just disappeared from the radar, what, more than a year ago?" he said.

I decided to not mince words, to be up front about my reason for cutting country.

"I left over my humiliation at being an afterthought when Jenna told me I had to share walking her down the aisle with you. But, can I ask, how is my ex-daughter," I said. Well, I was still bitter about what I saw as a slap in the face after the sacrifice I made for her, all the love I'd shown her.

"What! Huh?" said Stacey, catching my tone of voice. "She's your daughter, David, not you ex-daughter. She loves you more than anything! I mean it, David. Please spit on me and Ronald if you must, but not Jenna. I beg of you."

I ignored her insistence that Jenna was my daughter and not my ex-daughter. "So she and her new husband, sorry I don't recall his name, have set up shop where?" I said.

"They're not married, David. When you left like that she called off the wedding until and unless you come back to walk her down the aisle. Oh, and I won't be on the other side of her when you do," said Ronald. He'd stopped me.

"Oh?" I said. And, I said it softly, meaningfully.

"Yes, and she's prayed every night that you'd return and forgive her for her mistake," said Stacey.

"David, do you still hate me so much?" said Ronald. I didn't answer him, not right away.

"Okay, I guess you'll never cut me any slack over all of it. I do want to say that I am so damn sorry for everything, David. I made some bad mistakes. But… " he said.

"But?" I said.

"But not for loving Stacey. That was and is beyond my power just as it is likely beyond yours. I am sorry I hurt you so. I am, and I will bear the hurt for that inside for rest of my life, even though, as I said, it was and is beyond my power to do anything about"

"That it?" I said. They could see I was getting antsy to leave."

"Almost," said Stacey.

"Okay, what else," I said.

"David, don't be mad. But… " started Stacey.

"David we know the truth. The truth about that awful day," said Ronald, interrupting Stacey.

I felt a cold settle in my heart. I wanted to cry out of frustration this time, but the tears wouldn't come. I'd worked so hard to keep it all under wraps, and now the two of them, and who knew who else, knew what was what.

"You don't know anything," I said. "But, it's been nice. Don't bother me again. Please! Okay?"

"David, please, a moment or two more. Please," said Stacey.

"What!" I said, a little more forcefully than the moment required.

"David, you are the best person, daddy, and yes husband on the planet. Neither Ronald nor myself realized just how wonderful a person you were when you left this last time. Oh, we did blame ourselves for hurting you and causing the mess, yes we did. But we also saw you as being immature and childishly petulant after so long a time.

"We actually thought you'd killed those men as kind of surrogates for me and Ronald. To us at the time, well, we thought you were off your rocker. But… " she said.

"But then you left, and Jenna was distraught and she told us the truth, and so here we are. We're here hat in hand to beg your forgiveness. We want you back in the family, David. My God we do," he said. I could see Stacey was starting to cry, but I was angry and hurt-again!

"You actually thought… considered that I would do something… harm you! Of all of the things you've ever said about me, Stacey; and I'm sure you've said a lot about me; that is the one thing that you have to know is the worst, and totally untrue. I would never, never, never hurt you!" I said.

"David, I am so sorry. I know that now. And, I beg your forgiveness for ever thinking such a thing. But, in all honesty, the idea that you could kill three men was also way beyond belief. But, the courts and the police and even your own lawyers agreed that you had. And, Jenna didn't deny it, not the. Everything was so off the charts. Of course now we know the truth, and we are so fucking sorry, David, please… " she said.

I don't think… " I started.

"David, I want to offer you a job, one you can do and be proud of. You can write your own ticket," said Ronald Carter.

"Huh?" I said.

"You need one, I owe you one, and really a whole lot more, and well… " he said. I didn't quite snicker, but almost.

"Forget it Ronald. What I want from you, you would never give me. And really it's, what I want and need, not in your power to give me. So, no to the job offer. I'm happy here; well, I'm content; happy might be a slight exaggeration. At any rate, I'm not leaving. My job doesn't pay much, but there's no pressure, and I'm, well, appreciated," I said.

"David, your family needs you, and more, wants you; oh, and you are appreciated, boy are you! And, what about Jenna? She wants to get married, but won't if you're not there to walk her down the aisle," said Stacey.

"Okay, to that. I will come back for that. Tell her that, okay? Tell her I want to meet with her and her young man as soon as possible," I said.

"Okay, we will," said Stacey. "But, David, think about some of the other things we'd talked about here. Please!" I shrugged. I would think about their offers, there was more than one thing in the mix for sure. But, I couldn't be around her, no, I couldn't: seeing her all beautiful, smelling her, wishing it was me in her bed instead of my traitorous ex-brother.

Yes, I'd mellowed some, but I still could not deal with the betrayal, all of it. The hot blooded hatred of years gone by had turned to cold fear. Fear of seeing her and being around her; I couldn't do it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE 2014

I wasn't exactly surprised, but for lack of a better term, I was surprised. My exes had left after our little sit down, and within four hours I'd gotten the call from Jenna. I would be meeting with her and her intended the next day, evening actually.

******

I'd chosen Denny's; there was always a Denny's around as far as my experience indicated.

I saw her enter. She was hanging on his arm. It looked like she needed the support. Well, that made the two of us, But, no, I wouldn't be hanging on my future son-in-law's arm.

"Daddy!" she screamed breaking away from him and coming to me. Okay, round one for her.

"Hello, baby," I said, hugging her back. Then there was the breaking into sobs, mostly by her, but I wasn't a too distant second.

"Daddy this is James," she said. Her young man had hung back a yard or so waiting for what I'm sure he figured, and that rightly, would be a maudlin scene.

"Hello, Mister Carter," he said.

"James," I said, "nice to meet you."

Over the next half hour or so I got both barrels from Jenna.

"Okay, it done and over with," I said. "It's on the eighteenth. I'll see about renting a tux. I haven't had much occasion to do any of that in my life. I just hope the darn things aren't too expensive." I was smiling, but Jenna had a concerned look.

"Jenna?" I said.

"Daddy, they kinda are. But, I'm sure daddy Ron would pay… " she started.

"No!" I said. "Don't go there, Jenna. My relationship with that other man will never allow me to accept anything from him. That's ironclad, Jenna! Okay?"

"Okay, daddy. I understand. I mean I really don't, but I get it sort of," she said.

"Jenna!" I said.

"Okay, okay," she said. "Anyway, here's the address for the place where everybody is going to be getting their stuff." She handed me a card: Jerome's Tux and Gown. I nodded and took the card. I'd figure out how to pay for it all once I got the prices. I'd be talking to somebody, maybe Winifred, about what is expected of the father of the bride. I didn't have much money, but I did have maybe a hundred dollars in my little tin box back at the B&G.;

******

I'd just gotten done cleaning the heads. It was late, almost midnight. I headed out into the bar area to do some final straightening up. There were two customers left. LeAnn was delivering drinks to one of them, a person I recognized. I couldn't believe it. By that I mean, that whether she was there by unbelievable accident or by design to find me, I couldn't believe it. But here she was. I went over to her. I was still dressed in my apron and cleaning clothes, read old jeans and an ASU tee shirt.

"Marianne?" I said, still not believing even my eyes.

"David! Is that you?" she said. Apparently it was a coincidence, a fortuitous accident in the serendipitous synchronicity of the eternal cosmos.

"It is indeed, and you!" I said.

"David, what are you doing here? You're out of that awful place?" she said. "And, yes, of course it's me."

"Aren't you working… " I started.

"No, no more at Carter Automotive, not for more than a year now. Well, you know," she said.

"Then?" I said,

"I have my own business now. I kinda owe it to your brother. He paid me enough to save up and go off on my own. I run an office temp service," she said.

The conversation was on. The catching up was on. "So that's my story. I've got a month before I give her away.

"But you?" I said.

"Had to get out too. Like I said. I kept having to deal with my ex. He's got himself another teeny bopper a dozen years younger than him. All he's got for me is a cold desire to mess with my life. So, I just got out. Now he can fend for himself," she said.

"Mess with your life?" I said.

"Yes, he's demanding half of the proceeds from the sale of the house even though the judge gave the house to me in the settlement," she said. I nodded. "But, the real problem is the fact that the house is as yet not even paid for, and my ex has to make the payments until the house is sold."

"I see," I said.

"Add to that he's even trying to horn in on my new business. I hate the bastard," she said.

We talked for some time. I learned more about her problems both as concerned her ex and her financial situation apart from the man. She had the house, but was having trouble selling it because of the price she needed to get to make anything off of it. She was covering her living expenses with the limited alimony she was getting from her divorce, and her new business, but barely.

During a lull in the conversation, I put the question to her.

"Marianne, can I ask you a question?" I said.

"Of course," she said.

"Like I said, I'll be walking Jenna down the aisle next month. I have to get a tux for that and I know there'll be other expenses along with that. How much should all of that cost me?" I said. "I mean do you have any idea. I've never had to do anything like this before."

She smiled. "Hmm, yes, well it can be expensive for sure. I guess a couple of hundred for the tux and shoes, another couple for the limo if you're going that route, and maybe five hundred for the gift: cash or kind for this last," she said. "You'll get off for around a grand more or less."

Fuck, I thought. Well, I had maybe ten percent of that. Helluva start. I was going to need to get a loan at some point, but from where?

******

"So your daddy Ronald is going to be left out in the cold on this?" said Stacey. She knew that Jenna needed to pay her daddy David back for his sacrifice, but this was a different situation. Ronald had been there for her too, through thick and thin. He did not deserve to be shunted off to the gallery while his brother, well-loved though he was by all and sundry, did the big thing. She had to make things right without seeming to dump on David, her David, her ex-husband though he was.

She heard the service porch door slam; she had to talk to him about that, the slamming; he always did that.

"Hi, hon," he said, seeing her leaning against the sink in the kitchen.

"Hi to you too," she said, "sit down; we need to talk." He gave her a what's so serious look.

"She went to see him earlier today," she said. His look was questioning.

"And?" he said.

"He is going to walk her down the aisle as he promised us," she said.

"Okay?" he said. "That's good, right?"

"Yes, as far as it goes. But, he is adamant about you not have anything to do with it, walking her down the aisle.

"Well we kinda new he was going to be going that way. I mean that's why he disappeared," said Ronald. "I mean he told us that when we talked to him."

"Yes, but the more I think about it, the more unreasonable it seems to me. We need to get him to lighten up," she said. "This, opportunity, if that's what it is, is where we get the man back into the family and you in your rightful place as her father. Yes, he can have his place as her father too, but the whole mess has gone on long enough and cost us all too much in time and stress and pain and all of it. You need to be walking on the other side of her when she goes down that aisle," said Stacey.

"Well, he is never going to go for that. He'll just disappear again," he said.

"Maybe not," she said. "Not if he doesn't know you're going to be going tandem with him. I mean he's lined up with her on his arm and you just step up and take her other arm. He'll be mad, but I can't see him turning around and walking out. I mean can you?"

"If it's a sandbag job your thinking of pulling off here, and it is, I can indeed see him turning and leaving," he said. "But…"

"But?" she said.

"But, what if, on the day, I go up to him, just before the ceremony, and ask him to allow it. Kinda putting it all on him," he said.

"You know that might actually be the way to go. Asking him instead of dumping it on him, might even get us back on track or at least start us in that direction," said Stacey. "But, what if he turns us down?"

"Have to play that by ear," he said.

"Jenna would have to be in on the plan," she said. "Not sure how she'd react if she wasn't in the know ahead of time. And, then there's James; he's kinda been on the outside in all of this."

"Yes, to all of what you say," he said. "I wonder if James knows the whole truth, I mean, you know, about his sacrifice?"

"I don't know, but I don't think so. Frankly, I'm afraid to ask her," she said.

"Yeah, well me too," he said.

******

"Well, today's the day," said Stacey. Her husband looked over at her. She was so beautiful, he thought. "You talked to Jenna?"

"Yes, she's okay with it, but made no bones about us backing off if he looked to be getting riled up about the idea," he said.

"Okay, I guess that's the best we can do," she said. "I'm going into her now. You go on into the foyer. David's there waiting. I guess you need to proposition him now."

He swallowed. "Yeah, I guess we're out of time," he said. "Man, I'm nervous. I just hope he doesn't get all out of whack on us."

"Hmm, yes, I don't want her day ruined because of our little plan?" she said.

******

I saw the asshole heading up the aisle towards me. I could almost feel the hairs on my neck bristle.

"Morning," said Ronald.

"Yeah," I said, "it is."

"David, can we talk?" he said. I could feel my eyes narrow.

"About what?" I said. "You got me here. I'm here. What else do you want from me?"

"No, no, nothing. We're just here to honor our girl," he said. "And her young man of course." I nodded.

"Just wanted to say, I hope everything's going to be all right. You know after the ceremony," he said.

"Whatever," I said. "I won't be making any waves on her day. This thing, walking her down the aisle, is big for me. You and my ex tried to cut me out of her life as far as I'm concerned, so this one kinda puts me back in it."

"David, neither Stacey nor myself ever meant to cut you out of her life. Yes, I did want a bigger chunk of it for myself. I wanted it pretty bad too. Stacey too. Selfish of us, okay. But, cut you out? No way was that part of the plan," he said.

"So you say. I ain't buyin' it," I said.

"Anyway, you better get up to your seat. She'll be joining me in a minute or two. Wait, unless you plan to pull something here," I said.

"No, no, just wanted to talk to you for a minute is all," he said. I watched as he headed back up to the front of the church.

I actually heard the rustle of her dress before I saw her. She was so beautiful, just like her mom on our wedding day. I wanted to cry. It was an emotional moment for me, real emotional.

"Hi, daddy," she said.

"Hi," I said. I was smiling big time. I was finally getting some of my rightful place back.

She looked around. She seemed to be anxious about something. I was getting a real hinky feeling.

"Jenna?" I said.

"Nothing," she said. "I just…"

"Jenna, were you expecting my ex-brother to be here? Here with you and me? Maybe the both of us to walk you down the aisle?" I said. I knew then and there by the look in her eyes that that was exactly what she expected. I had a decision to make. I made it.

The music started to play. I told her to wait. I went up to the front and got him. "Follow me," I said. He did.

Joining Jenna he looked me askance. "You'll be walking her with me down the aisle." The music restarted. I took her left arm he took her right. He watched me closely the whole march down the aisle.

We stood at the gate to the altar steps.

"Who gives this woman today?" intoned the minister. I said nothing. The silence was pregnant.

I could sense that my ex-brother was waiting for me to say or do something. I just continued to wait. Finally, he did it.

"I do," said Ronald Carter. I got a serious look from Jenna as he handed her off to her intended.

I headed to the back of the church and watched as my baby got hitched. Ronald had taken his seat next to his wife in the front row. Stacey kept glancing back at me. He too glanced back at me at least a dozen times during the ceremony.

The music started up again as the new couple came back down the aisle. I slipped out I would never see any of them again; that was my oath to myself.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 2014

"He just disappeared, again!" said Ronald.

"Yes, and I have no idea why," said Stacey.

"But, we do," said James. His new wife looked down.

"Huh? What?" said Stacey.

'"Before we came here today, Jenna and I talked. I'd asked her why her dad hadn't said that 'he' was giving her away. At first she didn't know, but then she started thinking," said James.

"And," said Ronald.

"Well, Jenna said, that before he went down to get you, Mister Carter, he and Jenna had a few words," said James.

"Had words?" said Stacey.

"Well, something Jenna did, or a look she gave him, she's not sure, made him think that there had been some plan to maybe get him to walk her down the aisle in tandem," said James.

"I think I kinda looked around for you daddy," she said. "You weren't there, but for some reason daddy David, asked me if there had been some kind of arrangement for you to walk me down the aisle too, with him. I told him no, of course not. But then…"

"But, then he came down the aisle and got me," said Ronald.

"Oh my God," said Stacey. "He figured it out. It was too late for him to back out, which he would have done if he'd have known about it in advance. So…"

"So what are you saying Stacey?" said Ronald.

"So, he decided to do as much as he was absolutely required to do and no more," said Stacey. "He saw walking you down the aisle, Jenna, as validating his fathership. Then he saw us as trying to water it, his fathership, down, again, and well…"

"Damn it!" said Ronald. "I also assured him that I wasn't there for that. I guess he just didn't believe me."

"No, daddy, it was me. Thinking about it, my looking around for you, when I came into the foyer, had to have made it clear to him that I was looking for you to join him and me," said Jenna. "I just didn't realize it until I talked to James, and then, all of us here, now."

"Daddy, I guess I never realized just how much daddy David hated you. I do now. And, daddy David is in the wrong. I mean the divorce and everything was not good. I know he was bad hurt when you left him, momma. I'm an adult and I understand some of these things. But, the kind of hatred that daddy David is holding inside of himself is way too much and, oh, I just don't know," she said. She threw herself into her husband's arms and sobbed.

"We've got to find him," said Stacey. "We can all sit here and argue about the wisdom of doing so, but for whatever reason: we have to try and get him back and being part of the family again, and give him holy hell for pulling another disappearing act…"

"Yes, I agree," said Ronald. "You're absolutely right on all counts, Stacey. I don't care if we have to capture him, tie him down, and force him to listen to us, we have to find him."

"Yes, daddy, I want to talk to him too. I need to talk to him. I owe him like nobody else," said Jenna.

James gave her look. Ronald saw it. He knew then that his new son-in-law did not know about Jenna's guilt in the shooting of the three druggies. He'd be talking to his wife, oh yes, he and Stacey had some thinking to do.

The search for the missing daddy was on-again.

******

Okay, was my cutting out without saying so much as goodbye the wrong thing to do? Thinking about it now, two hundred and fifty miles and two months removed from the event; well, I was honestly not sure. What I was sure of was that at the time I didn't think I had a choice, not a good choice at any rate.

As hard core as my exes were early on about forcing "uncle status" upon me and separating me from the fatherhood of my baby; well, that's how hard core I was feeling now toward my ex-brother pretending to be equal in that position with me.

And, there was the fact that I had taken the fall for my baby and done the time. I didn't regret that, no I didn't. A man has to protect his children no matter what they do. I had no choice there either.

So here I was in a bar I'd never been in before: The Wild West. Yeah, it was another country western blued and tattooed place of refuge. Talk about lost and lonely. Felt like half of my life was like that. My good friend John Daniels, some folks call him Jack, was more than sympathetic with my plight. Here in Douglas he was about the only friend I had. The good news was he didn't argue with me.

Being up-up-and-away, though I was, didn't mean that the bunch of them couldn't contact me. I had dumped my cell, but there was still the internet. And, though I didn't have a computer of my own, the public library did, and I occasionally used it for this and that. Okay, and yes, I did check my emails. I didn't answer any of the ones that they sent me, but I did read them, and, deleted them as soon as I had.

Earlier emails had indicated that they were looking for me. I didn't want to be found, so I didn't answer, as I said. Like before I knew that if Ronald had really wanted to, though it would have cost him some bucks to do it, he could have hired a PI to find me. He hadn't done it. I wondered at that since they all seemed so eager to know where I was. But then something happened that stopped me. Aunt Delia emailed me and the information she provided was that which I could not ignore: Ronald Carter, my worst enemy in the world had terminal kidney disease. He needed a transplant and he needed a donor, and donors with his blood type were hard to come by, and I was his blood type. And, there were apparently other complications; he needed a donor that was pretty much an exact match.

That night, the night I got Aunt Delia's letter; I drank; I drank a lot. The next morning, my decision made for me, by Aunt Delia, I headed back for Phoenix. I checked myself into Phoenix General and made the deal to make an anonymous donation to save my traitorous brother's life. Aunt Delia would know, but nobody else. Would the rest of them be able to guess? Maybe, but they would not know for sure, and that's the way I wanted it. I'd had enough of their worthless gratitude and phony sympathy. The incident at the church had sealed it for me.

I was in and out of the hospital in a week's time. I'd decided to shack up in Phoenix for another week before chancing the long drive back to my digs Douglas; well, I was still pretty weak.

I hadn't been on the computer in the time since I'd gone up to Phoenix to donate the kidney. I was sitting in the room at the hotel set aside for travelers to use a computer. There was one from Aunt Delia.

Nephew,

I know you were the one to donate to save Ronald. It was the right thing to do. And don't worry, none of them know and none of them even seem to suspect though I suppose one or another of them might draw that conclusion down the line. I can tell you, Stacey cried her eyes out for joy when they were given the news that they had found a donor. The relief on the faces of the lot of them was palpable. Oh, and the prognosis for Ronald is good.

One last thing, nephew, At some point, you might want to rethink your decision to disappear. They did bad, the two of them, but it's done and over with and we all need to get by it, even you dear nephew. Hoping to see you sooner rather than later.

AD

******

I hadn't answered Aunt Delia letter. What would have been the point except to have her write me back and continue to urge me to forgive and forget; I was not at a place in my life where I could do that. It was more than doubtful that I ever would be. Only one thing would have persuaded me to return to the fold: Stacey dumping my ex-brother and coming back to me. I was more than well aware that a fairy tale of that magnitude would have taken divine intervention to effect. No, I was condemned to be alone and to endure the fire in my belly that simply would not die!

******

I had however, since my time in the joint, adopted what I euphemistically referred to as my pragmatic-self. Translated, that meant that I was going to be on the lookout for a woman who I could trust and who did not mind the baggage that I would be bringing to the relationship. Was there actually such a woman in the sentient universe? God how I hoped so!

The Javelina was kinda known as a middle scale bistro that served pretty good booze, even sophisticated cocktails. I had been enjoying my favorite one of the latter, a manhattan, when I noted her sitting across the room from where I was at, at the bar.

I'd seen her before, but couldn't quite remember from where. I decided to ask her. What the hell, right, all she could do was tell me to get lost. The love of my life had essentially done that to me what could a woman that I didn't even really remember do to me? Damn little was the answer to that question, damn little for sure.

I moseyed more or less casually over to where she was sitting. "Mind if I join you?" I said, brazening out an introduction. She stared at me as at something alien to her personal space. But, strangely maybe, she nodded. I plopped down across from her. She had a half smile playing across her face.

"My name is… " I started.

"I know who you are," she said.

"Okay," I said. "But… " Her smile broadened.

"Rozelle," she said. Now, I really was in a quandary. She was so familiar, but Rozelle? I was certain I didn't know any Rozelles, but I must.

I took the bull by the horns. "Like to dance?" I said. She didn't quite laugh. But, she did stand up answering my request in the affirmative.

I took her hand and led her out onto the floor. We slow danced around for some little time. I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Rozelle," I said. "I have to tell you, well, you're very pretty, but…"

"Your name is AZ195623," she said, smiling very widely now. I know my face must have fallen a foot.

"You know my…"

"I'm Fillmore," she said. "I'm on vacation this week, well kinda."

"You're Fillmore, prison guard Fillmore! You look so different, I mean… " I said.

"That's me, can't deny it," she said.

Hard-ass Fillmore, known for no nonsense and even a streak of cruelty as some had said. I'd seen her virtually every day for more than six years, but she never looked like she did tonight, and she was slimmer too. There was no way I was going to recognize her.

"I hope, I mean I hope I haven't done anything to upset you," I said, utterly unnecessarily.

"Look AZ195623, if you feel uncomfortable around me that's okay. I'll understand and we can just go our separate ways. But, if you plan on keeping me company, you're going to have to buy this girl a drink. So, which is it?' she said.

"I'm buying the drinks for darn sure," I said. "Oh, and the name's David." She nodded.

"Okay, David it is," she said. I waved to LeAnn who happened to have floor duty. She came over and we ordered. LeAnn did give me a funny look.

"I guess I should ask what brings you here, I mean to the burg. It's a couple of hundred miles from your workplace," I said.

"Don't work there anymore. I'm a salesperson now for Marbury Transport Systems, MTS," she said.

"Sounds impressive," I said.

"And how about you?" she said.

"Actually, I work here at the Javelina. I'm a janitor and a maintenance guy," I said. She raised an eyebrow at that.

"Okay," she said kinda slowly.

"It's the best I could do coming out of there," I said. "Not many places want a con on their payroll."

"Hmm, yes, I know it can be hard. But…"

"But…?" I said.

"But, you had skills, I remember looking at your file back in the day," she said.

"Yeah, but skills that other guys also have and they're not cons. Anyway, I get by. There's no serious pressure, and I like that particular feature of my job description."

"Okay," she said.

"But, I have a question for you," I said.

"Okay?" she said.

"How come you knew my inmate number? I mean you must have been around thousands of cons in your career. You couldn't have memorized all of their numbers," I said.

"No, just yours," she said. My look must have been screaming, "Tell me damn it!"

"You defending that black kid from cell block-D when he was transferred over to your, I mean cell block-C got my attention. Not many of the inmates would have defended another of a different color especially when they were getting the hell beat of them by the guards. I wanted to learn more about you, at first just for interest sake, but then I thought, well, too bad you weren't outside, free; I'd have made a move on you. I mean you are good looking if a bit of a sad sack. But hell, you were in prison; sad is the name of the game in there. But, I have a question," she said.

"Okay," I said.

"Did you do it? I just cannot see you killing three men. I followed you some in the joint, and it just didn't compute," she said.

"What difference does it make," I said, it was not a question. "I've done the time, and I don't want to be reliving the event anymore."

"Okay, so that answers my question: you didn't do it. You covered for somebody else. I don't see your daughter as the culprit, too young and inexperienced, and yes, I know the details of the case, the basics anyway.

"Maybe your ex-wife, or her current hubby. Those make more sense. Anyway, I won't ask you to tell me any more. I get it that you don't want to be reliving any of this," she said.

"You saying all of this makes me want to ask another question," I said. She nodded.

"You, being here, tonight, just an unbelievable coincidence?" I said. She smiled.

"Not exactly," she said. "I live here now, that is a coincidence, but, I saw you at the supermarket few days ago. I followed you. You came here afterwards. So you might say I laid in wait for you to return. I wasn't ready to meet you that first day." My turn to nod.

"So then, here we are in what, an awkward situation," I said.

"Hmm, awkward? Maybe not. You wanna go to my place?" she said. The look on my face made her laugh.

"Well yeah," I said.

"Don't look so surprised Mister Carter. I was a prison guard for eight years. I'm self-possessed enough to be able to say what I want and do what I want without feeling self-conscious, I mean if you get my drift," she said.

"Okay," I said, a kind of shocked respect no doubt clearly noticeable in my tone.

The ride to her place, and it was in her car I didn't have one, was quiet. I think she smiled the whole way. I didn't smile, but I wanted to, weird.

The red wine she served me when we got to her place was good. The apartment itself, a two bedroom affair and nicely furnished, was good. The teddy she changed into was good. And, the sex afterward the best I'd ever had or so I thought after the fact. Jesus this woman was way over the top and way out of my league. Could she make me forget Stacey? The jury was out on that one, but the possibility was very much in play.

She took me, not the other way around. She undressed me. She played with my dick, but didn't suck it. She did make me suck her breasts, very gently. She made me lick her anus, very roughly. She made me eat her most secret treasure, very enthusiastically. And the kissing and cuddling afterward were meant to allay my most fearsome doubts about myself and my life. I wanted this woman. I needed this woman; I mean I needed her more than anything I ever needed. Whatever skills I had at courting a woman were about to be tested and tested big time. Oh, and again, could she make me forget Stacey? The answer after the fact was an unequivocal yes if one night of thrilling sex and togetherness was any indication.

******

"Okay, buster," said a red eye'd Stacey, "We'll be wheeling you outta here this afternoon."

"Okay, babe, can't wait to get home," said Ronald. "Hospital food ain't the greatest."

She started to cry again. "Honey, it's all good. You needn't keep on cryin' all of the time," said Ronald.

"I'm just so grateful to God or whatever angel was watching over us," she said.

"Yeah, I know. I agree. It had to be divine intervention," he said. "I mean what are the odds that the registry would find a donor in time."

She started crying all over again. "I am just so grateful," she sobbed.

"Anyway, the doctor said I could go home early?" he said. She wiped away her tears with the hankie she pulled from her purse.

"Yes, and the outlook is good," she said. "Thank God, thank God, thank God!"

"How is Jenna doing?" he said.

"She's good. She and her hubby are waiting for us at the house," she said. "Our lawyer daughter passed the bar you know. She's employed now. Works for Misguez and Salcedo downtown. I mean she took the job: the one she'd been angling for."

"I am so proud of her. I wish daddy number two was here to share her success. If anyone deserves to take pride in her success it's David Carter," he said.

"Yes, he does," she said. "But what can we do. He has to want to be here, and he doesn't. Even if we find him, he'll just blow us off and run away again," she said. He nodded and it was a nod tinged with sadness.

"I guess. I really miss the guy. What he did for Jenna is way beyond loving, next to giving his life for her, well… " he said. She nodded, and her nod was likewise tinged with sadness.

"Someday," she said.

"Yeah, someday," he said.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE 2015

"Daddy," she screamed, as her mother wheeled her biological father through the entry way. His smile was a mile wide.

Hugs and kisses all around. "Jenna, get your daddy a cup of coffee will you. He's been harassing me about having a cup since this morning," said Stacey.

"Coming right up," said Jenna, she disappeared into the kitchen.

"And how are you, James?" said Stacey.

"Good, good," he said. He turned his attention to his father-in-law.

"And you Mister Carter?" he said.

"Fine, a little weak. I've been on my back for the past ten days, so I'm a little stiff, and as I said, weak," said Ronald Carter, "but okay otherwise."

"Well, anything you need," said the younger man. Stacey smiled her broadest in a long time.

And there was peace and love if also a little pathos all around.

******

The knock on the door of the two bedroom apartment the Ellisons shared was unexpected. James answered it.

"Aunt Delia!" he said. "Welcome and good morning."

"Well, thank you, James," she said, as she entered with his gesture to do so.

"Aunt Delia," said Jenna, as she came into the front room from the kitchen. "You're just in time for breakfast."

"That's very thoughtful of you, dear," said Aunt Delia.

Over the next hour the trio talked about nothing and "almost" everything. James excused himself to go to the store and pick up some things that Jenna told him she needed for dinner.

"So you're happy, everything is going well for the two of you, Jenna?" said Aunt Delia.

"Yes, yes, Aunt Delia. Everything is fine. Well, almost. I mean you know," she said.

"Yes, your daddy David," she said.

"Yes," said Jenna.

"The time will come when you will be together again," said Aunt Delia. "I know it."

Jenna sighed. "I hope so, it has been so long and so many things have happened and he has done so much for us, especially me, and all any of us seem to do is to make his life harder. How can that be, Aunt Delia. I mean it makes no sense. We, especially me, have no intention of making daddy hurt or feel bad or suffer or any of it. So why is it that all of those things keep happening to him," she said.

"It's not you or your intentions, dear. Really it's not. The only thing that stands in the way of your daddy David being here and ending his misery is the undeniable fact that he can't get his wife, his ex-wife, your momma, out of his heart. Nothing else has ever mattered to him as much as Stacey Carter. He may at some point find another woman to take her place, but failing that, he will never be completely happy again."

"I failed him too, Aunt Delia. He took my punishment for killing those men. Isn't that an even bigger thing than him losing momma as his wife?" said Jenna.

Her aunt smiled. "Hard as it may be to believe, Jenna, him helping you made things a little easier for him to accept his misery and to deal with it. It gave him something he could feel good about at a time when nothing else could. And, again, as hard as it may be to believe, his time in prison was nothing compared to the heartache of losing his soulmate to another; I mean that quite literally."

"Aunt Delia, I have another cross to bear and I don't know if I can," said Jenna.

"You want to tell James about that day with the men," said Aunt Delia.

"Yes, but…"

"I'm a pretty good judge of character, Jenna. James will deal with the knowledge, if you do tell him, very well. He loves you, that's plain to see and he will do just as your daddy David did and protect you at all costs," she said.

"Okay, then, I'm going to tell him. Would you… " she said.

"Yes, of course I will, that's a no brainer as they say these days, she said.

******

The only one in the room not short of breath, if that were the way to say it, was James. The two women, Aunt Delia and Jenna, were as nervous as ticks-and short of breath.

"Okay?" he said.

"James we need to talk," said Jenna. "I've been keeping something from you since, well, since the beginning; but, no more. You deserve better and today is the day I come clean." She sounded like the lawyer she was.

"Okay," he said. "But, as far as I'm concerned you don't need to tell me anything that makes you as uncomfortable as you obviously are. I'm good."

"No, no, today's the day," said Jenna. He spread his hands in an "okay tell me gesture."

"James some ten years ago, my dad, daddy David, helped me. James, he took the wrap for me. I killed those three men. I called my dad. He came and convinced me to step aside and let him take my punishment. I was so frightened that I let him. To my everlasting shame I let him.

Then to make things worse, if that were even possible I let uncle Henry, daddy Henry, be my dad and I loved him too and it made my other daddy, daddy David sad and maybe humiliated. The wedding, well you know about that, was maybe the final straw for him. That's why he ran off; but, as I said, I know you figured that one out by yourself," she said.

James looked over at Aunt Delia. "Aunt Delia?" he said.

"You knew this already didn't you, James?" she said. He looked away.

"Yes, well, not at first, but about a year ago, a little less; I heard your mom and dad Henry talking. They were distraught. They couldn't believe what your dad David had sacrificed, and how bad they thought of themselves, the way they'd treated that good man. They were both crying crocodile tears. I snuck out before they discovered me.

"I didn't say anything to you about my knowing. I decided to wait till you felt the need to tell me yourself. I guess that that is now," he said.

"James, you are a very intelligent young man. I know you know how hard this was for Jenna to tell you, come clean, as she said. She asked me to sit in on this, what, confession. I agreed because I was pretty sure she'd need the support. But, of course, I did not know until this hour that you knew," she said.

"James? You don't hate me?" said Jenna.

"No, dear heart, I could never hate you, never. A dozen times I wanted to tell you that I knew, but I wasn't sure how you might react. Hence, my waiting," he said.

"Oh my God, James! You're the best," she said.

"James," said Aunt Delia. "You're a private investigator for your wife's firm, right?"

"Yes," he said.

"Then you have the resources of Jenna's law firm. You need to find my nephew, James, and help him to return to the family. He may not ever again have the romantic love of his ex-wife, but he does have her respect and that of all of us. That will count for a lot if he can be convinced of the truth of it. I know it. He feels, and has felt since the beginning of all of this some fourteen years ago now, that he has been dumped on again and again with not a shred of caring, apart from what he sees as lip-service, from anyone. His level of hurt from that kind of mind set is incalculable," said Aunt Delia. James looked down.

"I see what you mean ma'am," he said. "We, Jenna and I, will be talking about how to do what you suggest. And, I promise to keep you informed."

There was a feeling of purpose in the room that had not been there before. Jenna went to her aunt and hugged her. "Aunt Delia, I know you've been able to contact daddy in the past when no one else has been able to. Please tell daddy that he's wrong to think that any of us don't care, especially me," said Jenna.

"Jenna, that's kind of wrong. I email him from time to time, and from time to time he answers me. You all can do the same, and I know you have," she said. "He doesn't answer you because he thinks of himself as having been slighted too many times and doesn't want to deal with it anymore. That said, I will email him what you said."

"Thank you," said Jenna. The younger woman sensed something in the look of the older. "Aunt Delia?"

"Jenna, James… " she started.

"Huh?" said Jenna.

"There's something else. Something kinda big," said Aunt Delia. The looks on the faces of the young couple was nothing if not concern. "Actually it's very big."

"Aunt Delia?" said James.

"Your daddy Ronald's illness, how much do you know about it?" she said.

"Well, that it was bad, kidney failure. He had to be on dialysis two and three times a week is what mom told me, a blood thing," said Jenna.

"Yes, but there were some other factors involved with it. He did not have long if they couldn't get an exact match. A close match in some cases is good enough, but not in your daddy Ronald's case," said Aunt Delia.

"Okay, but he's cured isn't he?" said James.

"Hmm, apparently, but of course with these things there is always the chance for problems," she said, "a relapse as they say."

"Aunt Delia?" said Jenna.

"Jenna, your daddy Ronald needed an exact match, and, a lot of luck. There was no exact match of the blood type or DNA or whatever he needed on the registry, not at the time and considering the urgency of his need.

"Jenna, James, I'm the only one who knows this, but… " she started.

"Knows what?" said James.

I'm breaking a confidence here, but you need to know. Your daddy David was the donor. He told the hospital that he would donate only if it, the donation, could be anonymous. I knew because I was the one who asked him to donate for your daddy Ronald," said Aunt Delia.

"Jenna, your daddy David isn't a good man; he's a great man and a great soul," she said.

The stunned silence in the room was utter, total, almost paralyzing. Finally James spoke, but it was a very quiet voice that emanated from him.

"That man is almost unreal, Aunt Delia. Un-freakin' real!" he said.

"Indeed, James, indeed," she said. Jenna remained silent almost catatonic; her brows knitted and unknitted several times.

"Jenna?" said Aunt Delia. Her voice seemed to awaken the younger woman.

"We need to find him, James. We really, really need to find him, no matter what," said Jenna. He nodded.

"Duh yuh think!" he said.

The evening progressed with talk among the three of them all centered on the man who didn't want to be found but had to be.

Aunt Delia made her excuses and left; a cab came to fetch her and she was gone, and the couple was left alone and to their devices.

"Well, this tale gets better and better," said Jenna. "I am so glad that Aunt Delia came by and told us everything. Living with it, everything, might be a challenge. But what the hey, that's life, right?" she burst into tears and they would not stop. Her husband took her in his arms and just held her.

It was sundown before the two of them could manage to get it together.

"Jenna, your dad would not have sacrificed his kidney if he didn't care about his brother and your mom too if it comes to that," said James.

"I could only wish that that was a true thing," she said. "And, I guess maybe it is. But that's not the issue. I don't think that it ever was. Yes, he cares. The sticking point is that he thinks that they don't, or not very much, and he cannot deal with what he essentially sees as their contempt and general disrespect."

"I get what you're saying. The problem then for us is to find a way to get him to know that he is wrong about that," said James.

"Easier said than done," she said.

"Yeah, yeah it is," he said.

"He is not interested in gratitude. If he knew that we knew, or more that your mom and dad Ron knew, about it, about his donation of the kidney, he'd expect that we would be grateful, but he doesn't want gratitude. He wants and needs respect for who he is without his doing things for them or anyone. All he sees is that they dumped on him and tried to give him lip service and meaningless platitudes and money instead of what he thinks he's entitled to," said Jenna. "All of that stuff in the beginning about asking him to reverse his role of father for that of an uncle was the ultimate insult and bottom line for him."

"I think you're right," he said. "Honestly, I can't believe your mom and dad Ron even thought up such a ridiculous thing. I mean people go through divorces all of the time. Lots of kids end up having what amounts to two dads. The smart ones deal with it and everything works out for the best-usually."

"I've talked to mom many times about that very thing. She really never had a good answer for how it all went down. Her motive, and dad Ron's, was just that he wanted to kind of jump start his father-daughter relationship with me. Waiting for such to just develop over time was not an option, not in the beginning. It was later, but daddy was gone by then or in prison because of me, and oh I just don't know!" she said.

"We'll figure it out," he said. "We will."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX 2015

It was hot in Douglas. It always was in early August. People just got used to it, well, they all said they did; it was a matter of civic pride.

The wine was poured and the shrimp salad was on the table. "I think we need to do it," I said.

"Do what?" said Rozelle.

"Get married," I said. I reached over the table and placed the little black box in front of her. She looked at it, frowned, smiled, and screamed.

"Okay! Yes!" she said. I came around to her side of the table and put the ring on her finger.

"This is gonna be the beginning of something beautiful," I said. "I need you Roz, and I want you real bad."

"I want and need you too, cowboy," she said.

"Let's eat and then go out. Okay?" I said.

"You got it," she said.

She gave me a quizzical look.

"Honey, we gonna invite any of your long lost family?" she said. I hadn't thought about that. But now I did.

"Before, I would have said no. But now? I'm not sure," I said. "What do you think?"

"It would be your place to decide. But, that said, it might be time. I mean would there ever be a more likely time to maybe show them what you really are, and I'm not talking about all of the times you've saved this or that person among them. No, I mean just how well you can do without them as well as with them. Kind of let them know what a major survivor you are."

"Survivor?" I said.

"Trust me, cowboy, you are that," she said. "Remember I was there when things were the worst for you."

"You were weren't you," I said. "Anyway, let me think about it, okay?"

"For sure," she said.

And, I did think about it, and in the end opted for us to do it just among ourselves and a few friends where they worked.

******

The wedding was at the local Baptist church in Douglas. We decided to take a short, four day, honeymoon in Tucson at the Hacienda Hotel. Four days and nights of sun and poolside relaxing were the order of things. The nights, though, were actually athletic events, trust me on that one.

We lay together saying little, mostly just breathing hard after having done the deed.

"Wonder what they'll be saying after they find out?" she said.

"Don't know. Probably give us lip service about how glad they are that I'm, we're, doing so well and making a life here in this little burg," I said.

"Hmm, lip service? You don't think that they'll be genuinely happy for you, they don't know me of course. I'm just gonna be an ornament in that little tableau," she said.

"I don't know. I just keep remembering the bones they threw me that cost them nothing and me everything," I said. "After he took her from me, as I've told you, they wanted me to assume the title of uncle, well-loved uncle was the way the woman phrased it. Unlimited visitation time with my daughter was another of their bones-yippee-ay-oh. And the final straw: allowing me to share the walking of my daughter down the aisle when she married her young man. And the killer in that? It was clear to me that my daughter was okay with their plan. That one still rankles."

"Hmm, yes I understand, but you might have been better served to stay and battle it out if that's the right term," she said. "Hey maybe they had other reasons for acting the way they acted."

"Can't imagine what any such might have been," I said.

******

The work days were long, but that was because business was good: hard to knock a situation like that. Roz had gotten me the job. They didn't even look askance at my record. Twelve bucks an hour sure beat minimum. Anyway, my pay plus my wife's allowed us to live high off the hog, well, kinda.

I was a warehouseman again; well, I was experienced. The Company was essentially an intermediary shipping company. We handled goods, mostly soft goods, coming in from Mexico for distribution to various chain operations in the states. And, like I say, business was good and we were constantly struggling just to keep up with schedule demands. Well, but the overtime was useful.

"So how was your day?" said Rozelle, coming up behind me as I sat on the bar stool at Pedro's.

"Oh, hi honey. Good, busy, but you know that. You folks in the office are running too, I know," I said.

"Yes, it's been a horrendous month. Security isn't as problematical as the stuff you're doing or the office assistants, but we are keeping busy," she said.

Rozelle was head of security for the company. Hers was mostly office work, but she did have to make the tour of the warehouses each day and make sure all of the guards and checkers were on task and doing what they were supposed to be doing.

"Hmm," I said. "So no problems for you then?"

"No, had to fire a couple of guys who were stealing merchandise. Not too bright the two of them. Their checkers' sheets didn't match up with inventories. Nailed 'em before they even got out the door. Like I said, no sweat," she said.

We were happy the two of us. The pressure was off. The drinks at Pedro's cool and well appreciated kinda made our day when we took the time to imbibe.

"Hey, amigo," said Jose, the barkeep of record for the moment. "Someone was in here looking for you, asking around about you today."

"Who was it?" I said.

"Didn't leave a name. White guy," said Jose. "Maybe fifty." I nodded. I had a hinky feeling, but I doubted it was any of them. Probably just somebody I knew from the job. If they knew I hung out at Pedro's they'd be back.

"You don't think… " said Rozelle, who was sitting right beside me.

"No, but who knows," I said. I refused to worry about it anymore. The old days, the old ways, the old crowd were all dead to me.

******

Juan Castillo had been the same thing for a thousand years, and he was only forty-six years old, helluva thing. He'd just hung up the phone and passed along the information that his benefactor in Arizona requested.

******

He gazed over in the direction of his wife who'd been napping. The man, his man in Douglas had come through for them. The only problem for James was whether or not he'd really wanted Juan to succeed. The short answer was no. The man he'd sicced Juan on did not want to be found. And while he wanted to do for his wife as she had requested, he wasn't sure it was the smart thing to do. Nevertheless, he'd gotten the information he'd asked for and now he had to tell her. And, she would undoubtedly tell her mother, who would undoubtedly tell her bio-dad, and then-well then who knew.

She stirred in the pillows. Her eyes fluttered opened. "Hi honey," she said.

"Hi, babe, said James. "He's living and working in Douglas. Juan called just a bit ago to tell me. And, he's married."

"What!" she said.

"Yes, the woman's name is Rozelle. She's bit younger than he is, maybe in her early forties. If Juan's info is right, and I'm sure that it is, she got him the job, I mean his new wife did," said James.

"Oh my God!" said Jenna. "This is good news. I mean it is isn't it, James?"

"Not sure, maybe," he said. "Jenna, he's not contacted any of us. The man clearly does not want to be found. We could go to him, try again to make things right by the guy, but… " he said.

"James, I have to connect with him I have to get him to come back to us. Mom and daddy Ron say so too. Yes, I know he's still hurt and all, but now that he has a new wife… " she said.

"You're thinking that now that he has a new wife that things might not be so hard for him per you mom and him, right?" he said.

"Yes, exactly. Daddy Ron, and Aunt Delia too, has always said that daddy was never able to get over the divorce. He loved momma so. It was what drove him to act the way he has since their breakup," she said. "But now…"

He nodded slowly. "Okay then, I guess the game's afoot," he said. "So, how do we want to do this?"

"I'll call mom this morning and we'll figure things out from there. I'm like you obviously are, nervous," she said.

"Yeah, well you've got that one right," he said. "But right now I think we need to clean up and get some breakfast. I'm starving and you must be too."

"Yes, and yes I am," she said.

******

He watched as she dialed her cell. The die was cast as the saying went. This was likely their last attempt, and on one level that was a good thing. But, if the attempt proved to be counterproductive, well, that would be a whole different kettle of fish.

"Mom, we gotta talk," said Jenna into the phone. "It's important."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN 2015

"How was work today, honey," she said.

"Good, I didn't do much, just kind of oversaw operations if you know what I mean. I'm still a little weak," he said.

"Well, that sounds good. The doctor did say you had to take things easy for a good while yet," said Stacey.

"Yes, and I'm going to be the best patient he ever had when it comes to following instructions," said Ronald. He laughed but it was kind of a weak laugh.

"Heard from Jenna earlier today, she wants to meet and talk to us about something. Wouldn't tell me over the phone what it was about, but it sounded important," said Stacey.

"Hmm, okay, when?" he said.

"They're coming over tomorrow evening," she said.

"Okay," he said.

******

"I wonder what they're all doing tonight," I said.

"Likely, the same as us, kicking back," said Rozelle.

"Hmm, yes, maybe," I said. I looked over at her. She was an inspiration, that's the only description that made any sense. "Roz, I can't tell you how much I love you and how much you mean to me," I said. She smiled indulgently at me.

"David, the feelings are more than mutual. I needed a real man, and you're it. We're going to be fine, honey, I mean really fine. We're already doing okay, but in time; well, we're going to be doing even better. Heck, we're going to be making the lot of them jealous!" she said, and she laughed.

"Hmm, maybe, but we'll never really know I guess. I think we've seen the last of them. Kind of sad actually. It's best that I broke it off with them. But, sometimes, well, sometimes," I said.

"I know, honey. I think they're likely thinking the same way as you. I mean, I think that they miss you too. And yes, don't deny it. I know you miss them even after all that's happened," said Rozelle.

"I guess that's true, at least on some level. But one has to be respected, at least that, if one is going to have any kind of a relationship with whomsoever.

"I absolutely demand to be respected," I said. "And I wasn't by them. Oh, I think they liked me well enough, maybe even loved me, as a well-loved uncle, to paraphrase my ex-wife. But, for me that isn't enough. I cannot abide them holding me in contempt or disrespecting me even if it was unconsciously so. And they did hold me in contempt. That was proven by the fact that they tried to bribe me with money.

"'How does fifty thousand annual sound?' 'We'd like to offer you a job to get you out of that halfway house,' Those were some of what the two of them said to me. And then having to share my daughter with him! He actually thinks of himself as her father and me as a mere uncle, a relative! Stacey admitted as much to me the last time we talked about anything that meant anything," I said. "Go along with any of that! Not happening."

"I know, hon, I know," she said. "I will say one thing however. I do think that you have to let it all go. They're wherever they are and we're here. If we never see them again, okay. If we do, also okay," she said. "And, we will be respected because we will be respectable, no question. I won't stand for anything less any more than you will."

"I do so love you," I said. "My God I do!"

"One day, they're going to have to deal with the truth about what you did for him that on top of what you did for your daughter. And, when that day comes; well, it's going to be a hallelujah day for sure," she said.

I had to laugh. She'd pretty much nailed it as far as I was concerned. But, I could not allow that they would ever find out about what I did for him.

Yeah, they knew about what I did for Jenna; that bothered me; Too many people knowing too many things was not a good thing. And, what of her husband, James? Did he know yet? I had to figure that that was likely.

I was going nuts worried about the truth ever getting out. I didn't go to prison for almost seven years just to have it all blow up in my face. No way! That was one issue I, all of us now, had to go to my, our, graves with the knowledge of.

Aunt Delia, she was tops as far as I was concerned. I knew she would never betray me. And, she was the only one who knew the whole truth, and I mean everything.

"Could they find out about the donation some other way? Only if Aunt Delia told them. Roz knew, She knew it all, and like Aunt Delia, I was confident that my secret was safe with her too.

And what of Jenna? What was she thinking and her James? Man how I wished that I could be around them. I wonder if they planned to have any children. I wonder what they would name the baby if they had one, or babies if it was more than one. I would die if… No, I daren't think that way or those kinds of thoughts. No, no, no!

Aunt Delia had said Stacey was overjoyed that her new man was saved. I guess I was glad for that. I did it for her as much as for him, donated the kidney. Yes, I was happy for her. Maybe I was mellowing out for real. If I was it was because I had a new and better woman than Stacey! Yes, Hard Ass Fillmore was a way better woman than the one who had shit on me. So-why couldn't I get the one out of my mind. It wasn't fair. No one should have had the right to own a heart and soul like Stacey owned mine! No one!

The bad feelings came, again. They always came. That my Rozelle was so patient with me proved her love and that was my salvation. I just hoped I'd never disappoint her; I swore and oath that that I would never consciously do; I swore it!

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT 2015

"Mom, dad," she said. "There's something I have to tell you, and I'm double crossing Aunt Delia to do so."

They'd eaten and the second round of drinks had been poured. There'd been an elephant in the room since the two younger marrieds had arrived. But, Jenna had put off the conversation that was now beginning until after dinner. That was now.

"So, Jenna?" said Stacey. They were all still seated at the dinette table.

"Mom, dad, everyone at this table knows what Daddy did for me, daddy David," she said.

"Yes, I guess so," said Stacey. Jenna nodded. James was looking down or away; he was clearly nervous, or, something.

"Okay?" said Ronald.

"Well, Aunt Delia came to us yesterday as I told you. She had some rather startling news," said Jenna. "Mom, dad, this is bad of me; I mean double crossing Aunt Delia."

"Is this news about my brother?" said Ronald. "Hmm, of course it is that's obvious. So what is it Jen. What has my little brother done now," he said.

"Dad, daddy David was the one who donated the kidney for your operation," she said.

At that moment all color drained from the face of Ronald Carter. "Huh?" he said.

The silence in the room, as the saying went, was deafening.

"Jenna… " broke in James, wanting to say something but changing his mind in mid-thought.

"Jenna," said Stacey. "I mean huh?"

"It was actually Aunt Delia who told him about your illness, Dad, in an email. She essentially asked him if he would be okay with you know… Anyway, she kind of left it up to him.

"Daddy, daddy David, said okay, but it had to be anonymous. No one was to ever know. He didn't want you to die, daddy, he didn't," said Jenna.

"Dad, said James-and yes, James had taken to referring to Ronald Carter as dad-Jenna and I talked. We talked long and hard on this. We think that David Carter is and has been mellowing out. And well, we, Jenna and I, see this as an opportunity. I mean him opting to help you at a really bad time has to mean something is still there of the old sentiments. I mean dontcha think?" said James.

"Honey?" said Stacey. "You know, I think the kids might be right. If David is ever going to be in a place where he might be receptive…"

"To rejoining the family?" said Ronald, breaking in on her.

"Yes," she said.

"That man. That crazy-ass brother of mine. He makes me so mad! I will never, never be able to pay him back for all he's done for me, for all of us.

"I'm a salesman. But, I'll be damned if I can figure a way to sell that man on how much I love him, how much all of us love him, and get him to a place where he would be willing to rejoin us and take his place as king. Because that's what he is to me, king," said Ronald. But damn it he needs a woman.

"Stacey the one fly in the ointment is getting him to be accepting of us as a couple, you and me. He's just not… " started Ronald.

"Dad, if I may," said James.

"Huh? Okay?" said Ronald.

"I had a PI friend of mine check him out. Dad, mom, dad David is married," he said.

"What? Who! What are you saying?" broke in Stacey.

"Her name's Rozelle. Don't know a lot about her, but she was able to get him a better paying job than he had at that bar," said James. "He's started over. I think he might be trying to move on. I mean that's what it looks like without actually talking to him or his new wife."

"Well Whaddya know," said Ronald, but he said it quietly.

"Yes, for real," said Stacey. She wanted to ask more questions, but for some reason or no reason she held off.

"Well, that settles it for sure. We're going to go there and talk to the sonovabitch and get him come home," said Ronald.

"Ronald!" screamed Stacey.

"Okay, okay, he's not a sonovabitch, I am, but he has been way over the top in a lot of this," he said.

"Dad, I think that Jenna and I should be the one to go down there first. If it looks promising we'll call, and you guys can hot foot it down there later," said James.

"James, I don't know if I've mentioned it to you, but you are one smart fella," said his father-in-law.

James snickered. "Well, you might wanna check with my wife on that one," he said. Everyone laughed, nervously, but they did laugh.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE 2015

"I'm nervous," said Jenna. "No, scared-no nervous. Oh, I don't know what I am."

There was still a good fifty miles to go. But, the road was clear and the sunny day nice. He smiled over at her.

"We're doing this right," said James. "We know what we have to do, and, we can do it."

"We have to convince him," she said.

"We will, I have a feeling," said James. "You wanna stop and get something to eat before we get there?" She looked over at him.

"Yeah, I guess," she said. "You don't think it will put us behind schedule do you?"

"If it does, we'll just shack up at a motel for the night and go to his workplace tomorrow. No problem," he said.

"Okay, then, let's eat," she said.

The Wild Horse Café had a limited menu, but the place was friendly and service acceptable.

They'd gotten seated within two minutes of arriving and menus and waters had been delivered a minute after that.

"Whaddya wanna eat?" he said.

"Just a burger," she said. "James, I'm nervous," she said.

"Well, you've said that often enough so that I'm getting to the point where I actually believe you," he said, and laughed.

"Funny!" she said, and frowned.

"Honey, we're in the right here. We've got God and righteousness working for us. We'll be fine. Okay?" he said.

"Okay, I guess," she said. She was still frowning.

The waitress finally came with their orders. They ate in mostly silence.

"It's only 4:00PM," she said. "Shall we try?"

"Yeah, why not. If he got off early, we'll just get a room and try again tomorrow," said James. She nodded.

******

The trucks were clearly shut down for the day, and so were the yards. But, the gate was open, and there was a light in what appeared to be the office. They headed for that.

He parked the car in an empty space but a few yards from the office door.

"Well, this is it, let's see what we can find out," he said. The two of them climbed the four steps and rapped on the door. A woman, a pretty woman looked up to see who the visitor was. She went to the door and admitted the pair.

"Yes?" she said.

"Hi, we're looking for David Carter if he's still around," said Jenna.

And, who might you be?" she said, looking from one to the other of the two strangers.

Jenna looked over at her husband; he nodded his okay.

"I'm Jenna Carter. I'm here to see my dad," she said. The woman in front of her appeared to recognize her.

"Yes, yes, of course you are," she said. "I've seen your picture; it just didn't click with me till you said it." Jenna gave her a confused look.

"I'm Rozelle Carter, your mother-in-law," said Rozelle.

The visitors looked startled.

"Uu-well, nice to meet you," said Jenna.

"Yes indeed," said James.

The next few minutes were spent in the mandatory introductions and pleasantries after they had taken their seats at the small round table in the office.

"Yes, it is indeed a surprise," said Rozelle. Of course, as I said, David isn't here right now. He's home, presumably getting dinner ready. I had to stay a little later: paperwork that had to be done by morning."

"Oh, okay. We'll get a room in town and be back to see him tomorrow," said James. "I mean, I'm sure you know of the problems that have gone down in recent times among the family…"

"Yes, yes, of course. We've talked long and deeply about it all, has David and I," she said. "Still…"

She picked up the landline and dialed.

"Yeah, hon, it's me. Look, something's come up. We're going to have guests tonight. We'll be there in a few. Yeah, okay?… For sure… no it's a surprise… no, I'll tell you everything when I get there okay… Okay, good."

"Well, I didn't lie, it is going to be quite a surprise," said Rozelle. Her guests nodded. James was smiling, Jenna not so much.

******

I heard the commotion at the back door. I went to see what and who my better half was doing and bringing to visit. I stopped in my tracks.

"Jenna!" I said, and I said loud.

"Daddy," she said, launching herself at me and culminating in a bear hug!

For the life of me I got even with her for her hug with an equally bearish one of my own.

"Dad," said James, sticking out his hand to shake mine. I took it.

"Well, this is a surprise," I said, looking straight at my wife.

"They showed up at the office asking for David Carter," she said, "I had to allow that I knew the guy." She was smiling, but not quite laughing at my clear state of disconcertion.

"Yes, well that would be true wouldn't it," I said, rhetorically.

"I'm assuming that the two of you know that I'm married to this lady," I said.

"That would also be true," said my lawyer daughter.

"Okay, I guess that explains why the two of you are here. So, let me formally introduce you. This is Rozelle Carter, my new wife, and wonderful lady. She it is who is my anchor and my love, and dare I say it, my benefactor," I said.

James was smiling. "Dad," he said. "I have to admit it was at the least part of the reason for us being here. I mean we didn't get the wedding invitation, but we were sure that that was just an oversight. I mean the mails these days."

I snickered. "Yes, well, actually I, we, didn't send out invitations. My experience with weddings hasn't been the best. Hence, we decided that it should be a private, low key affair," I said. The momentary joy at seeing my daughter was fast losing some of its mojo. I was thinking back to the man who gave my daughter away at her wedding and how I had been played. Adding to that the travesty of my own so called wedding and marriage to Stacey Carter nee Wilcox and how that ended.

"Dad," said James, and yes, I noticed how quiet Jenna had become since our initial greetings. "Wanting to meet, your wife, was indeed, as I said, one reason why we are here. But, well, it was not the only reason."

I know my look must have telegraphed my suspicion. "I hope that the two of you aren't here to bring me any more problems, propositions, phony promises or whatever," I said. "I seriously mean that."

"Daddy, no!" said Jenna, finally waking up from her coma. "Daddy, can we sit and have something to drink or something?" I nodded. I needed a drink too. I did want to talk to them, but I was wary. It seemed like every time I communicated at all with any of them I ended up disrespected, lied to, or treated with what I saw as utter contempt. I wasn't putting up with it anymore. That said, I was going to see how it went. Mister nice daddy, that was going to be my modus operandi.

"Yes, I guess, sure," I said.

"I'll put some drinks together," said Rozelle. She'd been hanging back watching the scene play out. Her expression, I now realized, showed what I would later describe as studied interest.

"Thanks honey," I said. "Martinis?" I said looking around at the group. They nodded their agreement.

My wife was some ten minutes preparing the pitcher of my favorite cocktail. During the interim the rest of us had settled in at our humble dinette table. Our place wasn't much, but it was clean and comfortable, nothing like the mansion my brother and my ex-wife lived in. I wondered what my daughter thought of our less than middle class digs. I noted her looking around and appraising the environment.

"It's the best we could afford for now. But, we'll be doing better down the line," I said.

"Huh?" she said. "Oh no! Really, daddy, it's very nice. I like it." I laughed.

"Well, thank you for that," I said, my response to her as disingenuous as was hers to me.

"Dad," started James.

"Here are the drinks folks," said Rozelle, interrupting things. We all relaxed as she played barkeep and poured for each of us.

We sagged back in our seats and sipped until Rozelle took her seat next to me.

"Dad, as I was saying," said James. "We have another reason for coming down, I mean in addition to wanting to meet Rozelle and congratulate the two of you on your marriage."

"Okay," I said.

"Dad… " he paused. "We know about the donation, the one you made to save daddy Ron." He waited to see if I would react. I didn't. I just stared coldly at him. Well, I was quite frankly, speechless. Aunt Delia had double crossed me! I couldn't believe it!

"Yes, dad," said Jenna. "And, daddy, I love you for doing it. I mean even more than I did before and I had plenty to love you for before."

"Aunt Delia?" I said. My meaning was clear. Jenna looked away. James on the other hand decided that a good defense was the best offense.

"Yes, Mister Carter," he said. And yes, I did notice that he'd suddenly gone formal on me. "Aunt Delia, and really all of us, think it's time you came back to us. Time you forgave your brother, as hard as that might be for a man as prideful as you. And, it's time you forgave your daughter's mom for what she did to you as well. Anger as deep as yours is just got to die, sir."

"That's your thinking is it?" I said. I chanced a look in my wife's direction.

"Some scenes need to still play out, dear," she said, "but it may indeed be time to think about doing what your son-in-law is suggesting. I know you still dream about it all. You've even talked in your sleep on a few occasions. And, I will admit, sometimes you worry me." I could feel my expression change to one of questioning concern. The absolute last thing I wanted to have happen was for my baggage to upset or in any way cause my wife worry. I nodded.

"How, do you see this playing out?" I said. I was looking at James when I said it.

"You mean you'd consider… " started Jenna. James put a hand gently on her arm signaling her to let him keep the lead. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, but nodded her assent.

"Sir, Jenna and I talked these things over before coming down here, and if the truth were to be known, on the way down here as well.

"The way we see it, in the best of all possible worlds, all of the problems of the past would end. And, we think that there are two ways we might could go to reach that goal. Of course the choice in the end is yours and maybe your wife's.

"Okay?" said Rozelle.

"One would be for you to come home. Just up and move back and accept the real and well-earned undying gratitude of the whole family. You're owed that much at the very least by all of us," he said.

"And, the other choice?" I said. My wife touched my arm; she could sense I was on edge. It, her touch, calmed me. God how I loved this woman and needed her.

"Choice number two would be for the rest of family to come down here and talk it out with you and your wife on your turf," he said. I nodded.

"We're just working people," said Rozelle. "We can't just take days off. I looked over at my wife. She raised an eyebrow. I got the message.

"Have them come here," I said.

"Oh thank you daddy!" screamed Jenna. The smile on James' face was hopeful. He pulled his cell and walked off toward the miniature patio of our little house.

He put his cell away and returned. "They'll be here tomorrow," he said.

"Okay," I said.

"We have a spare bedroom. You two can stay here tonight," said Rozelle. "No need you going into town to get a room." I nodded my agreement with her offer.

"Okay, well that'd be good," said James.

"Yes, daddy, that would be the best," said Jenna.

******

"Well, Whaddya think?" I said looking over at my wife as we lay beside each other.

"James is right. It's time to at least try to put everything behind us. And, David, it is 'us' now, not just you. That doesn't mean that everything will be good, or that some bad memories might not remain. But, it does mean that a healing process should at least be given a look see," she said. "And, if I have any say in this at all, I think that their motives, their motives these days, most definitely need to be considered."

"Honey, without you this could not happen. And, you do have a say in all of this. Like you say, it is us now not just me. I need your input, and trust it more, than my own." I said.

"Well thank you for that," she said. "And, I know seeing her again is going to make things hard for you, but I'm a pretty damn good substitute for her believe it."

I looked her straight in the eyes. "Damn straight you are. You are my life, and finding you, or you finding me, I guess, is proof positive that there is a God," I said.

She smiled her appreciation and that made me smile.

******

"You think that this time… " started Ronald.

"I don't know, but I sure as hell hope so; it's fucking time. My wonderful ex-husband needs to get it together. Him being married may be the kicker," she said. "I wonder what kind of woman she is. I'm worried about that one," she said.

"And he is wonderful. If he kicks my cheating as from Douglas to the red planet Mars, I'll thank him and ask him to do it again," he said.

"Not until after I ask him to kick me there first," she said. "Ron, we, the both of us, did him wrong, no matter that we never wanted to hurt him. What we did was guaranteed to hurt him. We deserve to be punished, and the fact is that putting us in the position were in 'is' punishment. The question is will he see it that way."

"Everything you say is spot on. But, our good intentions notwithstanding, he's got to want to forgive us, and that's the kicker, not just his wife," he said.

******

I saw them pull up in front of the house. The Caddy looked new. Well he was a rich man. Wonder what it felt like to be rich? What I was sure of was that I'd never know. Money just didn't seem to like me very much. But that's okay, I was happy, my wife was happy, nothing else mattered.

It was a hot day, and the others were out on the patio waiting for the arrival of the next bevy of guests.

I went to the door; I didn't immediately alert the fans on the patio; I don't know why. At any rate, I had instructions from my wife as to how to behave when they did arrive and I was going to be following orders.

The knock was tentative; I thought that kinda odd. I answered it.

"Well, hello," I said. Ronald looked at me strangely.

"Hello, hi, to you too, David," said Stacey. She stepped forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I stepped back and looked at her; I think I upset her judging by her hand going to her mouth.

"David, I didn't mean… " she started.

"No, no, no problem with me. It was-a nice greeting," I said, trying to smile my friendly smile. Well, I was under orders. "Come in, come in," I said. The two of them entered. They were smiling at me, but the smiles were kinda forced. I could see they were uncomfortable. Well, after everything, I guess that that kinda figured.

I could see that the both of them were doing their best to "not" notice my, our, digs. It amused me. They were clearly trying their damnedest too to not offend me. Well, I decided to be magnanimous and to not take offense unless they did something totally egregious.

"Dave, We are really glad that you could see your way clear to allow us to visit you," said Stacey. "We've missed you, honestly."

"Sure, okay," I said. "Everyone else is out back. Let's join then." I wanted to get my wife near me as soon as I could. I didn't trust myself around the woman, Stacey. I needed my Rozelle, and I know that that makes me sound like a pussy. What can I say, I am one when it comes to my women.

******

"Momma! Dad!" screamed Jenna. I could see that she had immediately bitten her tongue, greeting my brother as she had.

"Hi, honey," said Stacey. Stacey went to our daughter and hugged her. Ronald, looking a little uneasy, made the decision. He went to her to and hugged her as well. He didn't say anything; he just hugged her and stood back. He was obviously doing his best to not upset the apple cart. He was getting the lay of the land: finding out how far I'd come in being willing to kiss and make up. That was okay by me; I wasn't sure myself. Her being there, across from me, was making it hard for me to concentrate.

"Honey," encouraged Rozelle.

"Uh-yes, Stacey Carter, Ronald Carter, this is my wife, Rozelle Carter," I said.

Pleasantries and greetings and questions about the trip down from Phoenix over with, everyone began talking at once, and then laughing kind of hysterically and then calming down and then a moment of silence ensued. And then the doorbell rang. We were all still on the patio, but I heard the doorbell and went to answer it.

"Aunt Delia!" I said. I had not expected her.

"Rozelle called me and asked if I were able to come down. I took the bus," she said.

"Oh, okay. I wish I'd known: I would have come for you myself," I said. I had questions for her, but it was beginning to look like they, the questions, were passé.

"Actually, Rozelle offered. But I knew that the others would already be here, and you and Rozelle needed to meet with them more than me. You and I are already on the same page in everything. But…"

"But?" I said, totally realizing that I was keeping our guests waiting on the patio.

"I decided that I'd best be here in case," she said. "But more on that later perhaps. For now, could we just join the rest of the family?"

"Uh-yes, of course. They're all out on the patio," I said.

The hullabaloo, that erupted when I brought everybody's favorite aunt outside and announced her, bordered on the comical. It was like Aunt Delia had saved the day. It remained to see whether or not that that was the case.

I stepped back and kind of out of the way of the maelstrom. I was leaning against the railing that circumscribed the totality of the little patio. I saw Stacey say something to Rozelle. Rozelle nodded in the affirmative. Stacey headed my way.

"Nice that Aunt Delia could make," she said, as she approached.

"Yes, but I am mildly upset with her for making the trip alone, and on the bus," I said. Stacey nodded her agreement.

"David, at some point this weekend could you and I talk. I mean alone," she said.

I looked her in the eyes. I'd expected that we would, but her asking gave me pause. I was not even sure that I would be able to handle being alone with her. Before marrying Rozelle it would have been an absolutely non-happening, but now?

"I guess so," I said. "But…"

"Yes, I'm a little concerned too. For sure, David, it will be uncomfortable, for me more than for you even. But, we have to do it. We have to," she said. "I'm just so grateful to whatever god intervened and sent you your wonderful new wife. I really mean it, sir. I really do."

"Okay, Stacey, maybe later tonight. We'll play that one by ear. Okay?" I said.

"Absolutely," she said.

******

I was well aware that the reason for accepting the visit of the entire clan was for the sole purpose of getting me to a place where I could see myself as back in the family and having forgiven everything that I saw as having been dumped on me. And, the sole reason that I even considered such a thing was my new wife Rozelle Carter.

The odd thing? It was getting late. Yet no one had asked me to accept anything in the entire time that we'd been together; well, so far they hadn't. Everyone talked about their jobs. Everyone discussed how they were feeling. Everyone asked me about my job and how I was feeling. In a phrase it was weird.

"Kinda crazy, huh?" said James who had joined me in the kitchen when I'd gone to rescue a can of beer.

My son-in-law was one heckuva a bright guy. "I guess that would be one way to characterize things," I said.

"You going to come home, sir?" he said. Bright and considerate: I liked the guy.

"Probably not in the flesh. But… " I said.

"Maybe bury the hatchet?" he said.

"Maybe that, James," I said. "Rozelle is kinda hoping I will, that we all will. But, we'll see in the next day or two, I guess.

He and I and Jenna sat down together. The topic? Her wedding and how it had gone down and how I'd cut country and whether or not I could forgive and forget the conspiracy to get me to do the tandem walk down the aisle thing.

What bothered me, though she said that she did wrong in trying to force the tandem idea on me, was the feeling I got that she only did so grudgingly. This from the daughter who early on was okay with assigning uncle-hood status to me, and who I did a long stretch in prison for. Oh yeah, I was indeed having a problem with that. But, I said nothing. I was under orders from my wife to let the long weekend playout.

CHAPTER FORTY 2015

Jenna and James had arrived on Friday; Stacey and Ronald early on Saturday and Aunt Delia later that same day. Our place was a three bedroom. With the arrival of Aunt Delia, Jenna and James opted to shack up at the motel-6 a half mile down the street. Rozelle had made the offer of our newly purchased convertible sofa bed, but the youngsters argued that it would just be easier for them and for everyone if they moteled for the one night.

On Saturday I'd talked to both Jenna and James more or less extensively, but only briefly to my brother and my ex, to Aunt Delia hardly at all. But that would change now.

It was Sunday morning. It was early. Most of the crew were still asleep, and the Ellisons would be arriving in an hour or two. Rozelle was showering and getting ready for the day. I'd gotten up early and made the coffee. Stacey surprised me.

"Got an extra cup?" she asked, rhetorically.

"Morning," I said. "Sure, I guess. I was just going to take mine out on the patio and relax a bit before everyone got up and moving."

"Oh, okay. Would it be okay if I joined you?" she said. Her tone was earnest. "But, I mean if you need to be alone…"

"No, no, that would be fine," I said. I poured her the cup and we made to go outside.

"We used to do this in the old days on Sunday mornings. Remember?" she said.

I did remember. And, I missed those Sundays among other things. "Yes, I remember. Those were good times."

"Would it surprise you to know that I miss those days, David? Ronald and I sometimes do the same. I guess what I mean is that you will always have a place in my heart, and, I really mean it when I say, so does your brother."

"It would surprise me that you thought very much about me at all. Look, Stacey, I know you feel guilty about the break up. I know you like me, maybe even a lot. My brother? I guess the same kinds of things might be true of him. But, when you dumped me like you did… " I started. I could feel myself getting emotional. She looked down.

"David, I never saw my leaving you for him as dumping you. I saw it as correcting a mistake that I made, more than one obviously, and trying to make them, the mistakes right is all.

"I'm not very smart, Davey. Ronald as good as he is at business isn't very smart in things of the heart. Do you know I caught him cheating on me with the maid?" she said. I had to smile at that revelation.

"No, I didn't know. But, I'm not surprised. He always was a womanizer," I said. "But…"

"The uncle-hood thing, right?" she said, completing my thought for me.

"Yes," I said.

"In retrospect that was the biggest mistake of my entire life. As I told you before, the idea wasn't so much to lower your status with Jenna, it was to give a kind of kick start to my husband's status with her. I mean he was her biological dad. And, you'd been rubbing his nose in it, your fatherhood, so much that he felt kinda kicked in the balls if that would be the right way to say it," she said.

"But, I was and am her dad. I demanded then and I demand now to have that recognized by all of you," I said. "If I don't get that, then all of this is a waste of time."

"David, surely you must know, that considering all you've done for this family, especially Jenna and maybe even more than especially for your brother; that no one is going to deny you anything!" she said. "I can tell you without the slightest shred of doubt that I sure as hell want to give you the fucking moon.

"Stacey… " I started.

"You saved my husband, David. He's my life. And, I'm going to say it, so are you. Got that young man! I mean it," she said. "Ronald is the man who will always be sharing my bed, not you; but in every other respect there will forevermore be damn little difference between the two of you in my heart."

"I don't know, Stacey. I mean I found a wonderful woman to share my bed with. And make no mistake, she has my heart. I couldn't go on without her; she's that important to me. As important to me, as it appears, is Ronald to you.

"But, I don't know, it's the years of betrayal as well as all of the rest, Stacey. There were just so many things. I think about it, the whole schmear, all of the time. Roz is trying to help me get by it, and because of her I am able to cope. That's why this weekend is even able to happen, that and the input of James. God he's a good man, one of a kind, really," I said.

"He is that.

"David, all said and done, is there any chance that we can get by all of this bad stuff? I mean for real," she said.

"Maybe," I said. "We'll see."

We heard noises from inside the house.

******

The hullabaloo on VJ Day 1945 in New York City, was something to witness. The riot of fun and frolic and togetherness in the Carter home-the Douglas venue thereof-was a close second.

The pancakes and bacon were consumed with a passion. The hopeful toasts that followed the food, made with coffee mugs and water glasses, were for my benefit. "To the brother who saved my life," announced, Ronald. "To my daddy, David Carter," howled Jenna; I say howled because she cried in the doing of the toast. "To a wonderful nephew," avowed Aunt Delia. "To a man worthy of the name," said Stacey.

Oh yeah, I was honored as hell. And I was embarrassed. And, all the while my wife, Rozelle Carter, held me back from retreating from the room. Boy did I want to retreat.

Then it was time for a speech. I knew it was time because everyone kept chanting "speech-speech-speech!" Rozelle nudged me. I took a deep breath. I looked over at the clock in the dinette where we were all clustered about. It read 11:15AM.

"Twenty-eight years ago I met and married Stacey Wilcox. We began our lives together and everything looked rosy. Then, over the years between then and now things went from wonderful to bad, for me; and now I guess we start over. My wife and my son-in-law James and Aunt Delia have made the case that I need to rejoin the family. So, as of this minute, well I hope all of you will accept me back among you.

The cheers, yes they actually cheered, were something. But, I was tired. I really wasn't sure about it all. But, everyone said it was all good, so I guess that it was. Most importantly for me, Rozelle said it was all good; that sealed it.

But, there was one more act to play out. A proposition my brother made me: one, frankly, I would have spit on but a short time before; but now, well I didn't spit on it.

******

It was late, it was Sunday night, I think he arranged it that way. Maybe he figured I would be too tired to resist. Looking back on it now, I think he may have been right. At any rate…

"Stacey talked to you?" he said.

"Yes," I said.

"And?" he said.

"Nothing. She just made the case that it was time for us all to try and get by the past. By us all, I really mean me," I said.

"And?" he said. "I mean me and Stacey and you specifically?"

"I guess," I said. "A lot of it, as I told Stacey, is still kind of a tough nut for me, but my wife has put it to me that it's time and so I guess it's gonna be time." He nodded.

"Okay, David. Thank you for that. We-I-need you to be ours again, my brother again," he said.

I shrugged, "It's all good, Ronald. I guess it's all good."

"David, I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse. You saved my life. You didn't have to do that. And given everything I did to you, especially stealing Stacey away from you; well, I need to do this and you need to let me," he said.

"If you're going to kiss me forget it," I said, and I smiled.

"No, no, I draw the line there. No, I'm giving you half my kingdom," he said.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" I said.

"David, I have six dealerships now; I'm giving you three of them: two new car dealerships and one used car. Oh, and I'm not taking no for an answer; and yes, I did go behind your back and got Rozelle to okay everything first," he said.

He was smiling, but he did at least have the grace to look worried. I nodded.

"I don't know anything about the car business," I said.

"Is that a backhanded way of saying you accept?" he said. I nodded again.

"Don't worry about that; the office managers and the operations guys know the game. They'll orient you soon enough. Oh, and I got one of my old employees back to make sure you'd feel comfortable in the new job," he said. "I had to buy out her old business to get her to. The lady drove a hard bargain, I don't mind telling you."

"Old employee?" I said.

"Yes, Marianne Woodley," he said. "She's very good at what she does as you know."

"God, Marianne. It's been a while," I said.

"Yes, and well, and of course I will be around whenever you want to talk, discuss, ask anything; well you know," he said.

"Okay, Ronald, I guess if Rozelle okay'd it; then, I'm onboard," I said.

"Wonderful," he said. And, I could have been mistaken, but it looked as if he were about to break up. But, just as I was going to say something, she appeared, my wife.

"Hi honey," said Rozelle. "I see you and Ronald are getting along."

"Yes, I suppose we are. He said you okay'd the new business opportunity," I said.

"Yes, I did. I hope you're not… " she started.

"I'm onboard," I said short shanking her. She smiled her approval.

"Well, good. It's time," she said. "Oh, and your aunt wants to talk to you. She in the den. She's going to be leaving shortly."

"Oh, okay," I said.

I headed for the den to say goodbye to Aunt Delia.

******

"Aunt Delia, Rozelle says you're leaving," I said.

"Yes, nephew, I am. "Just wanted to have a word with you before I go," she said.

"Yes, of course," I said.

"David, I know you still have misgivings about everything, and in the deepest darkest of the night you'll still be thinking, well, some not so good thoughts. But, it's time to start weaning those kinds of thoughts out of your system.

"As possessive as your brother is, and that is who he is mister possessive; he's gone the extra mile here and done his best to make things up to you as much as he can. Stacey is lost to you in terms of the way things once were. But, you seem to have landed on your feet in those respects too: Rozelle is a treasure, and I'm sure you know that," she said.

"I do," I said.

"Well, good," she said. "David, think positive from now on. Like I said, there will be moments of doubt and bad memories to deal with, but they are all about things from the past; you need to live in the now and the future. Okay? Stacey and Ronald are not bad people, just selfish and careless. But, they have a lot to deal with now too. Your generosity has guaranteed that. And, when once in a while the road gets a little bumpy just remember nobody does everything right, nobody."

"Okay, Aunt Delia, I think that I understand. And, I will remember what you've said.

******

It turned out that Aunt Delia was leaving with Jenna and James: she would not be busing it any more. Ronald and Stacey stayed for an early dinner before hitting the road. I got a scorcher on the lips from Stacey as they left. Rozelle was standing beside me when she did it. Ronald was only a few yards away by the car. The both of them smiled their approval.

"All's well that ends well," said my wife, as I rejoined on our little porch.

"I guess so," I said. "So, I guess we'll be moving back to Phoenix. I mean with the businesses being in that area and all."

"Yes," she said. "I've already arranged for the movers to be here Monday morning two weeks from now. Well, we do have to give notice at the warehouse." I nodded.

"Yes, that's good," I said. "How much for the movers?"

"Forty-seven hundred," she said.

What!" I said.

"Relax, it's part of the package from Ronald for taking over the three dealerships," she said. I nodded, but slowly.

"I have to tell you, I just can't feature Ronald giving up so much of his business to me," I said. "I mean he is mister materialistic. He loves those stores of his as much as he does Stacey, and I know that that's a lot."

"Hmm, well yes, you may be right," she said. "But as for the gifts, that was actually Aunt Delia's idea. That's the main reason she came down. To his credit he didn't argue, so Aunt Delia told me, but did look kinda something, she said."

Well it looked as though things would be working out. Fifty-some years old and starting over-again! Helluva thing.

******

THE FALL of 2016

The gathering was largish. No one was speaking as the minister pronounced the words of condolence and prayer over the still open grave. My, our, Aunt Delia was no more. She'd been the greatest. And, as has been seen, she was instrumental in getting the family past some very hurtful experiences, especially me; but, as to that, really all of us.

I felt numb watching them lower the casket. I was choked up, but numb. I looked over to my right and saw Stacey Carter, my brother's wife wipe away a tear. My brother, Ronald, was stony faced. Well, I guess that was how I appeared as well. It had to be the saddest day I'd yet lived, even sadder than the funerals of our mom and dad so many years gone.

Everyone began turning away and heading for their waiting cars, everyone except me. I turned when I felt a tug on my sleeve. It was my wife, Rozelle Carter, and next to my Aunt Delia, the one most responsible for saving me, and saving me is indeed the right way to phrase the reality, my reality.

"She was a wonderful person, David. We'll all miss her," said my Roz.

"She was all of that and way more," I said. My wife nodded.

"We need to go, now, my husband," she said. I let her lead me away. The reception would be at Ronald's and Stacey's house, well, it was closer.

I really wasn't in the mood for a wake or a reception or whatever they were calling these things nowadays. I wanted to be alone or maybe with Roz. I did not want to be having to respond to questions from a bunch of well-meaning guests and family, none of whom could ever really know how I was feeling at that moment. But, Roz had said that we should go, so go we would.

The tables were laden with a surprising variety of eats. Aunt Delia would have been pleased that everyone was there and having a pleasant if not actually a good time. She would have reproved me for not being in a good mood, well, that was who she was always concerned that everyone else was okay.

I'd been to their house, Ron and Stacey's, any number of times since the great rapprochement more than a year gone, but I was never really comfortable being there; today was no exception.

Roz had abandoned me to help with something or other in the kitchen. I had stationed myself out on the patio with a cup of coffee in my hand. For the moment I was alone and thinking about times gone by, well, this was one of those occasions that suited reminiscing quite readily. Well, I was alone, and then I wasn't.

"You okay, David," she said, coming up behind me. I turned to see my ex-wife standing but two feet away. I looked up at her; she was still a pretty woman fifty years old or not.

"I guess," I said. "No. Actually, I'm not." She nodded.

"She was a wonderful lady; we all owe her a lot," said Stacey. I just stared at her.

"David?" she said. I shrugged.

"Dave, are we okay? I mean you and I?" she said.

"I guess so, Stacey. There's no rancor anymore. Just a kind of malaise. I just don't feel comfortable here, I guess," I said.

"I'm sorry for that, David. I really am. But, I guess I do understand. It was the scene of a lot that went down over all of those years," she said. I nodded.

"May I ask?" she said. "How are you and Roz doing?"

"Well, we're doing quite well thank you very much. I don't know what I'd do without her; she's my rock," I said. Her turn to nod.

"David, you and Roz need to come over more. You say you don't feel comfortable coming here. Davey, that's not it and you know it. You don't feel comfortable around me, or maybe me and your brother," she said. "But, you need to. We love you. We love the both of you, you and Roselle. It's time you granted us some mercy and took our relationships to the next level. Really!"

"Maybe," I said. "I'm not trying to be a downer or anything, but, well, I just don't know." She'd taken a seat opposite me, and was all but staring at me as she spoke.

"Did you know I spoke to Aunt Delia before she, well, before she passed," she said.

I'd been looking down, but now I looked up at her and saw the earnest expression she'd taken on.

"No, I didn't know. I mean I knew you'd gone to the hospital to visit her as had we all. But that you'd had private words with her? No, I wasn't aware," I said.

"Well, I did. She made me promise to make things right by you, I mean between me and you," she said. "She knew you were still hurt in spite of all of the forgive and forget rhetoric that went on last year."

"Okay?" I said.

"Davey, she knew you were still in a blue funk about it all. She knew it might not even be possible for you to overcome it. But, she laid it on me that the responsibility to fix things, if such were indeed possible, was mine. Not your brother's, not Jenna's and James' but mine.

"David, I told her I would do what I could, and I will. I need you to give me the chance to do what she asked of me, I mean to succeed in the doing of it. Okay?" she said, and she said it quietly, softly, pleadingly.

"What do you want from me, Stacey? I just don't know what it is you expect me to do, believe, what all," I said.

"I guess what we have to do, well what I think we should do, is to sit down together the four of us, and talk things out, maybe even sit down together many times, however many times it takes," she said. "Would that be a doable thing for you?"

"I don't know, but I could ask Roz what she thinks," I said.

******

"Honey, things are settled. Will you ever be able to forget it all? Of course not. There is just too much bad back there in the past to be forgotten completely," said my wife.

"Yes, you're right of course. It's not that I want to cause any waves, I don't. Roz, I don't hate them anymore, I really don't. I just don't feel comfortable around them. I know they say that they say that they love and respect me now, I mean now that they know all, or almost all. But… " I said.

"But, you don't trust them," she said.

"Well, not exactly. I mean what if I hadn't taken the rap for Jenna. What if all I was able to do was offer my sympathy and give whatever moral support I could to her and them; and, what if I hadn't had the same exact blood type as Ronald? Would there have been any respect for me then? I don't think so. I mean do you think so?" I said.

"You're asking if they had any respect for you before all of that happened," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"The answer to that is that it's unknowable. They would not have had any pressure to respect you, but the guilt the two of them carried would have eventually caused them to react in negative ways toward you, maybe blamed you for your being so angry and bitter rather than themselves. That said…

"They're in a place now where they can't find a way out," she said.

"Huh?"

"Before, they were in the driver's seat. They could offer you all kinds of material goods and privileges and blame you for being unwilling to compromise. But no more. Now, you're in the driver's seat," she said.

"How do you figure?" I said. "I mean they've given me, us, the means to be rich; I mean the businesses, and it does indeed look as though we are going to be."

"More material stuff. But it will always be a fact, as you yourself have pointed out in so many words, that they can never equal in material gifts what you have done for them. And again, that said…

"I believe her. I believe her when she says she respects and loves you. I also believe her when she says she loves her husband more than anything. And, I believe that that fact rubs you the wrong way because she's essentially saying, the way you see it, that you never measured up. It's your pride that's getting in the way of you getting by all of this.

"Your Aunt Delia told you as much in the past. She sugar coated it so as to not make you feel worse than you already did, but that was her meaning," said my wife.

"I guess you're right, honey; it certainly makes sense, what you say," I said.

"And, one more thing, young man," she said.

"And that is," I said.

"That you lucked out and got an even better woman for a wife and one who will never betray you and one you can never really hope to deserve. So, many sit downs with them? Not necessary. Not necessary because we are going to go there and have them here often. And we are going to be kind and generous to them. And, if that makes them ever so ashamed of themselves in retrospect, well, life is hard as they say and then we die. Got it, mister!" she said.

And, I did get it, finally! And, she was right on every point. I think I married a genius. Yes, indeed, and if not a genius at least a woman a whole lot smarter than me!

And we did visit the Carters on the hill. And the Carters on the hill did visit us in the burbs. And all was indeed well that ended well.

"And Jenna and James? Well, they are a fixture at our place as well as at Ronald's and Stacey's.

-----------------------------

   Series:Tiffany and Dexter
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Tiff and Dex have fantasies. They live them out. Trouble ensues.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/60600/tiffany-and-dexter
Published:2009-06-16
Dear Readership,

This is the first time I have ever, as far as I can recall, prefaced a story of mine with lengthy pre-comments or explanatories. I offer this because of a couple of thoughtful comments posted by folks after one of my recent submissions. They, the correspondents, offered that I was one author who seemed bent on sticking my chin out there were the anonymatii could take a whack at it. Well…

I don't actually seek to be insulted and threatened and bullied. Who in the world would for goodness sakes? That said, I will nevertheless not ever allow myself to be intimidated or alter my style or proclivities simply because someone else doesn't like me or what I write. I like to think that I am stronger than that-hell, I am stronger than that.

It would be wonderful if everyone did like what I write, but I know that that isn't realistic even in the best of scenarios. And, for the record, I do not claim, or by any means believe, that I am a great writer, but I do know "how" to write. I am one of the few people that I know of who actually reads grammars for fun.

Another "commenteer" recently stated that my stories had, shall I say, a certain sameness to them. Okay, I'll own to that. However, I have in the works, at various stages of completion exactly thirty-eight stories one of which is slated to be a 500 page novel and another a shorter novella. Too, several of the thirty-eight are of singularly different genre' than my "Loving Wives" stuff. At any rate…

None of us that write here get paid. None of us are likely to ever be famous-though hope springs eternal. In any event, I wish to say, that I hope that sooner or later, that those who spew hatred and malevolence in the comments section here on Literotica will come to realize that maybe they should be reading in other theaters, or at least modify to some small degree their language. Nevertheless, I love you all. And, happy reading to everyone.

Oh, and I hope you like this one, but well, some probably won't. And that's okay; I find it amusing that some will actually read stuff they claim to hate. I lift my glass (martini) in salute to such courageous longsuffering critics.

Matt

******

My name is Dexter Lannin. My wife is Tiffany. Tiffany is five-nine, two inches taller than me, a bit overweight, but voluptuous rather than fat; and she is cute. She's a brunette and wears her tresses a trifle longer than shoulder length.

Me? As I indicated, I'm five-seven, one-fifty, brown-haired; but losing it I'm afraid. Well, whaddya gonna do. I'm a bouncer at a local country-western bar and dance hall. I was a fighter in my youth, golden gloves. Joined the Army when I turned eighteen, fought welterweight while in, got a halfway decent education out of it too (Sizemore Community College). After mustering out, I went looking for a job.

Problem was I had trouble finding a job. I had gotten my A.A. in Liberal Studies, Which as it happened, turned out to be not exactly a degree that was in great demand, but hell I was cultured. I had been working part time as a bouncer in order to get by while in school. Now, I had to try and make it full time. My boxing days were behind me, but I guess I still qualified as a pretty decent ass kicker. The pay was okay too, and the work not overly strenuous.

Roy Jenkins is the owner and chief bartender of Stacks. Stacks serves up good whiskey, decent burgers, and pretty good country music, disco style, seven nights a week. Roy had always appreciated the fact that I was always on time and didn't look for trouble like some of the more macho bouncers did. He'd just shrugged and said sure when I asked if I could go full time.

It was at Stacks that I met and saved Tiffany Gilchrist from a fate worse than death: Darrel Brothers wanted to fuck her-without her permission. I put him down, kicked him out, and my thank you from Tiffany was a night in the sack with her! We were married six months later, in the bar!

Tif and I have now been married for nine years. For the record we're both thirty-four years old. She works for a hot shot car dealership owner now. She's his office manager and private secretary. But, and you knew this was coming, I've discovered she's also been moonlighting as his sex toy. I know because right now, I am standing in the doorway of his office watching him bang her from behind.

Dwight Williams, her boss, is black, six-two, more or less, and an ex-jock who played for State a decade past-offensive guard, I think. Well, he's still offensive but not the football kind.

Stunned, angry, hurt, fearful of losing my woman, and undecided what to do; I continued to watch the tableau play out. I knew my marriage was probably in the shitter, and the thought devastated me.

Finished, the asshole pulled out of her and started to pull up his pants. He finally saw me.

"Oh Jesus!" he said.

Tiffany turned to see as she buttoned up her skirt. "Oh my, Dex. Oh my. I am so sorry, Dexter," she said. I just stared at her. I really was in a state of shock. She came to me. She nodded at her boss to get lost; he did.

She sat me down in a chair and knelt in front of me. The concern in her eyes real, and not for her; but for me! "Dexter, my God, you were never meant to see that. I feel so bad for you, my husband. Are you okay?"

She was tending to me as though I were a little kid who had just fallen of my bicycle. I wasn't okay. And, I was beginning to get back some level of self-control.

"Tiffany, we're through!" I said. The tears were coming, my tears. I couldn't stop them. She suddenly looked stunned.

"Oh my, no," she said. "I love you not him. He's just a plaything. A sex toy, that's all. Can you understand that, Dexter? Just a sex toy, nothing more."

She was combing my hair back with her hand. "Let's go home, my husband. I need to make you feel all better," she said.

"No dammit!" I said. "Seein' you-him-it's… " She started to cry too. I wanted to reach for her, do my duty to comfort my wife. But, she wasn't my wife anymore. She was somebody else, some stranger. I had to get out of there.

Somehow I found my car and began driving. I just drove. I had just broken up with my wife! I wasn't able to think. I needed a drink. The sauce would do me good. Damn straight it would, I thought.

I was sitting in a booth at Momma's, my other favorite bar, when who should show up but my erstwhile wife. It looked like I couldn't escape. I feared her. With her I was a complete wimp. I will take on a busload of shitfaced cowboys and do no worse than a tie, but with Tiffany? I have no hope.

"Let's go home, Dexter. I have some very serious fence mending to do," she said. I did as she instructed; well, I said I was a wimp when it came to her.

In our room, she stripped first herself then me. I was an automaton. I was hopeless. I knew that soon the chickens were going to be coming home to roost and something bad was likely going to happen. But, not today.

She knelt in front of my naked body and played with my penis. I was hard in short order and she sucked on it like it was a matter of life and death; well, it was, at least as far as my marriage was concerned.

She fucked me cowgirl style and collapsed on top of me drained. Well, I guess her previous bed partner that day had pretty well drained her energy supply. There was no encore. We lay there not speaking each lost in our own thoughts.

At some point we fell asleep. I remember her saying that everything was going to be all right; I was doubtful. How could it be? But, she'd said it; maybe it was true.

We awakened at the same time. We both stunk. We needed showers and we needed them bad. She rolled out of bed; she was still naked. Her matted pubis testimony to the serious fucking she'd had the day before. I knew she was still full of his spunk too; I could smell it in the mix.

She took my hand and led me into the bathroom. "Come on husband; we're going to shower together. Then, we'll get dressed, go downstairs, eat, and talk." She wasn't asking me; she was directing me. I wasn't sure I liked what she was saying, and I knew I wasn't going to like what I was going to be hearing; but we did need to do all of the things that she had listed.

I nodded. "Okay," I said, finally.

The shower was sensuous. My cock rose to the occasion and she actually giggled. "I'll take care of that little matter for you right now," she said. She went to her knees, right there in the shower and engulfed my hardon in her mouth. Every once in a while, I could feel her naked breast slap against my thigh. Off and on, her lips would let my staff slip out so she could lick the full length of it and my balls, and then she would engulf me once again and suck for all she was worth. It was clear to me that she was trying to make up for the pain she'd caused me the day before. I stiffened; she took it all. It was a mercy suck, I knew, but whaddya gonna do.

As my cock shrank, she gave my balls a final squeeze and looked up at me. "Are we okay?" she said. All I could do was spread my hands in an I-don't-know gesture.

We dressed and went down. She scrambled some eggs and fried some slices of russets. I set the table and made the coffee. We sat down to eat. Strangely, I was as hungry as I'd ever been. But, I was still shaken by the events of the preceding afternoon. I did not want to lose my wife, but I was afraid I already had; that, in spite of her efforts the night before and in the shower this morning. It was the moment of truth.

"Dexter, if you would like, why don't you ask me about it; or, if you want, tell me what you want to tell me. I promise to be as truthful and candid as I can," she said.

"How long?" I said.

She smiled. "Long enough. Almost since I started working there. Always at the office, never anywhere else. We thought it was safer that way. His wife-you-we didn't want either of you to know, either of you to be hurt. For us it was just the sex." She stopped and looked at me.

"But why? I thought we had a good sex life," I said.

"Dexter, we do. That is, what there is of it," she said.

"Huh?"

"Dexter, how often do we have sex together?" she said.

"I guess, two or three times a week. I think you always cum too," I said.

"And those few times you don't come with my dick in you, my mouth finishes you off," I said, defending my prowess.

"You are exactly right in everything you say," she said. "But, could you do it every day?"

"Well I…"

"Dexter, no you couldn't. Neither can Dwight. Men are limited in their abilities in that regard. In spite of the silly bravado you men all put out there. Oh, you could do it for a while probably, but soon you'd be drained both of spunk and desire. It's nature, Dexter," she said.

"Dwight and I do it about twice a week. That coupled with your three times takes care of me.

"Dexter, Dwight is just the second string. He comes in to lead the team when you need a rest. He's a good guy, and he is sensitive to my needs and your honor, believe it or not," she said.

"But he's made me his cuckold!" I said. "You too. You've made me a wimpy laughingstock between you."

"My God no!" she said. "We have never laughed at you, and no one else knows but you, me, and Dwight of course. And, that's the way it's going to stay. But, yes, you are my cuckold, I suppose, and Dwight's too. But that's just a definition, not anything meaningful in itself."

It was time, I had to ask the next question and I feared the answer. I slumped back in my chair. "Are you going to stop it? I mean now that I know."

She gave me a decidedly undecided look. "Let me ask you a question as a means of answering you, Dexter. Do I have to?"

"What!"

"Dexter, I have never denied you anything in bed. I have cooked for you, washed for you, loved you, treated you like the heman you are. I have never had a date with Dwight or any other man. I just use him like a live dildo. He uses me like a live blowup doll. So I ask you again, do I have to give my toy up?"

I stared at her. "If I say to give him up, will you?" I said. "I mean really. No more sneaking around."

She stood and paced the kitchen floor several times before answering. She stopped and looked at me. "I'd try," she said.

I had been thinking the while she had been pacing back and forth. She'd betrayed me in fact if not in her heart. He'd betrayed his wife. And now I could go any of several ways, and none of them looked real good to me. The question was, how did I really feel about it all? Hurt? Betrayed? Ambivalent? Excited by the dirtiness of it? What?

"I don't know what to say, Tif. I just don't know what to say, and you are actually suggesting that…"

"Dexter, while I was cooking a little bit ago, I had a thought. It was-it was-it was kinda out of the blue. What if-what if there was a way to include you. I mean with Dwight and me. I mean if you were to participate in some way-I mean it sounds crazy, but…"

"You just said that you knew I couldn't handle more than I'm doing now, and you're probably right. So how do I participate, even if I wanted to do something as crazy as that, and I don't? I mean you already said that you know I can't do it that often?" I said.

"I don't know, but we could figure out something," she said.

I looked at her like she was nuts! "I have to think," I said. "I have to think. I'm going out. I'll be back later, and we'll talk some more. Okay?" She nodded but said nothing.

I picked up my keys and headed for the door. I was half way out the driveway when I remembered I was still hungry; I hadn't eaten any of the stuff she'd cooked. Well, I'd just have to make do. I just had to get my head straight. Participate?

******

I sat in the last booth at the local Denny's. My seventy-third cup of coffee in front of me. I made up my mind. It was Wednesday. It was 10am. I didn't have to be at Stacks till noon. I rang a number I knew by heart. I must have called it a hundred times, a thousand times, over the years.

The man answered. He would be there in ten minutes. Good, he was nervous too.

I saw him park and stride toward the entrance as I waited with my seventy-fourth cup of coffee in front of me. He saw me, came over, and slid into the booth opposite me.

"Before you say anything, Dexter, let me," said Dwight. I nodded. When I'd played ball in high school, I remembered that our coach always elected to defend rather than to receive if we won the toss. I thought that was good strategy then, and I thought so now; I was more than happy to let the man who had cuckolded me go first and reveal himself. That would allow me to react more effectively. I could kill him any time. He was a big guy, but there was no doubt in my mind that I could rip him a new one if it came to blows.

"Yeah, that's okay by me," I said.

"Thank you. Before we get to the gritty stuff, let me say how sorry I am for putting you through this. I imagine you've already talked to your wife. Please, please, I beg of you; do not divorce her. She is a good woman and she is your woman. Yes, we play. Yes we've done it a lot. And, now that it's over… " He paused and changed the subject. I knew this was a selfish man, but at least he wasn't rubbing it in.

"Are you going to inform my wife? If you do, I will understand. But, I would beg you, and I am begging you, to please not do it. We have four kids, all under age. And, Letitia, while I don't think she'd divorce me-well, she would make life for all of us a living hell. That I deserve it, notwithstanding, I would hope you will have mercy on me, on us. There, that's all I have. But I will hear you out too. And thank you for this chance."

"Why?" was my first question.

He smiled I didn't. "Because I'm a horny assed toad and your wife is pretty. But, also because my sex life at home is-well, it's not all that great. Partly my fault, I guess, but Letitia just doesn't like it as much as she used to while Tiffany…"

I interrupted him. "If I lay off telling your wife, what assurance would I have that you wouldn't continue what you've been doing with mine?" I said. I was acting cold, but not aggressively so toward the man. I was conflicted. I had thought over all of the things that Tiffany and I had said to each other. But, now I was in a dilemma.

I knew I could get the both of them to swear off each other. But, would that stop the desire they had for each other. Would that guarantee that they wouldn't just be more careful? I could make her quit her job, get her away from him. But if she worked somewhere else, would it be less or more likely that she would cuckold me again with someone new. The issue of trust was becoming the biggee. And, she'd already informed me that her desires were almost too much for her to control.

And, what about her idea of including me? It had made my penis tingle and harden when she'd suggested it. But, threesomes? I was not at all sure I wanted any part of that regardless of how stimulating the idea might be in the abstract. And, even if I did go along with it, what would my role be?

I had to admit, but only to myself, that I had had fantasies. But, they were just that. I had never seriously considered implementing any of them. And, now here he was in front of me, the big, black, athlete of a man who I would conceivably be playing with, whose cuckold I was. What I said and did now would pretty much be irrevocable.

He'd been looking at me, no doubt thinking of how to answer me. Now he spoke again.

"I can only say that I swear on the heads of my children that I will not do anything sexual ever again with your wife. I won't anyway, Dexter, no matter what you decide. But, I still hope you'll not let Letitia know of my behavior. Again, I deserve anything you do to me, but telling her won't change anything and it will hurt her-and my children," he said.

I had to admit, he was saying all the right things, and more; his tone of voice was winning me over. "Okay, then," I said, "I will not let your wife in on this; but I expect you to keep your promise to me. There's a lot more I have to say to you, Mr. Williams, but right now, I need to get home and speak some more to my wife."

I pulled into the drive some six hours after having left. Tiffany was in the kitchen scrubbing out a couple of cupboards. I sat down at the table and watched her. I could see her glance my way every minute or so. She was waiting for me to start.

"I've been thinking," I said. She stopped and put down the soapy rag she'd been working with.

"Okay?" she said.

"I don't want a divorce. But, I can't live with you sneaking around either."

I could see tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I've been considering your idea?" I said.

"My idea?"

"Yes, of including me in the mix," I let it sink in but it apparently wasn't sinking in very quickly. She looked at me strangely.

"You mean with me and Dwight? You mean in our sex-acts?" she said.

"Yes. Your little 'ole cucky here is willing to listen to your ideas on the subject. But, at this point to just listen."

Now, she began bawling and bawling loudly! She came and threw her arms around me. She didn't, or more accurately couldn't, say anything, not at first. Damn women!

"I'll be your willing cuckold, I guess," I said.

"And no cuckold will ever have been treated better than I am going to treat mine," she screamed out in happiness. Damn women.

It was a good hour before she could calm down enough to set the groundwork for how it was going to work, the new scene.

"Yes, my darling. You have made me very happy. I want you to know I was more than ready to not do anything-well, what it was that I was doing, I mean. But, this decision of yours has caught me by surprise," she said.

"Me too," I said, sheepishly. "I'm not exactly sure what it will mean. I need you to know that we have to go a little bit easy, at least at first. To tell you the truth, I'm a little bit scared. I ain't scared of anything, Tif, but I'm scared of this."

"I promise you that I will take care of you. You'll have my back, but I will be watching out for your front, no pun intended," she laughed.

******

I heard her on the phone talking to him. It was clear that he was more than a little skittish, but hell, so was I.

She turned around and saw me. "Hi," she said. "I didn't hear you come in." She said goodbye to whoever it was, and she hung up.

"I just now got back," I said. "Things were slow. I didn't need to be there, so I decided to come home early." I motioned toward the phone. "Was that him?"

"Yes. It's on for Saturday night. Here," she said. I nodded. I was suddenly nervous. Having a date to look forward to, and that only two days hence, made things more real somehow. She saw I had paled a little.

"It's all about fun and games, Dex, just fun and games. For me that's the sex part. For you it's the teasing, and maybe a little mental and sexual humiliation, the fun kind, the cuckold kind. Are we okay?" she said.

"Yeah, we're okay. We're fine. I'm just a little nervous."

"That's understandable," she said.

"So how will it play out?" I said.

"Well, I've been thinking about that," she said. "I think it would be best if the two of you do not talk to each other. Maybe some other time, but not this first time. Anyway…

"He'll come over, and I will have both of us prepared. You'll get to watch the whole thing; unless, you decide not to at the last minute. He'll undress me, and play with me a little then he'll fuck me. When he's had me once, I will suck him back to life, and then he'll take me again. Finally, we'll cuddle a little, and then he'll go home.

"That's when you will be required to do your duty," she said.

I knew what that meant, but I wanted her to tell me anyway. "What will my duties be exactly?" I said.

"Well, you will have to clean me orally, suck out all of his sperm. Then you will get to fuck me too: sloppy seconds for you." She was giggling almost uncontrollably.

I could feel my face flush. "That ought to be humiliating enough," I said, trying to induce a small laugh.

"That's a sure bet, my little cucky," she said. She continued to giggle. "I can hardly wait see you squirming in your chair trying to get some relief."

"Huh?"

"Well, dear, I will have to make sure you are safe and-well-secure. Do you understand?" she said.

"Uh-no," I said. "Secure?"

"Well, if it's all right, I had planned to strap you into a chair to watch us. Do you think that that is too much? If you do, we can do something else. I'm just afraid you might get too-well jealous, Dex. You are awfully tough; we both know that. My lover is going to be nervous enough even if you are strapped down good and tight," she said. "He's going to be thinking the whole time that sooner or later you're not going to be strapped down. And you'll be out and around, and maybe he'll think you'll be coming after him.

"He's a big guy, Dex, but not big enough to defend himself against you. He knows it; I know it, and you sure as heck know it."

I nodded. "If it will make you feel better, it's okay, I guess. I wouldn't do anything after I agreed to go through with it, but if it will make him and you feel more-secure. I will accept you strapping me into the chair."

"Thank you dear. I think it might add a little bit of spice to the action too, dontcha think? I mean you, as a willing cuckold, allowing yourself to be strapped down and denied for a little while? The thought of you being there, strapped down like that, unable to get relief; well, it's so hot."

"Yeah, I guess so," I said. She placed her hand gently on my arm. Jesus this woman was sexual.

"We won't laugh at you, Dexter. Tease you a little? Yes. But, we won't laugh at you. I promise you that," she said.

******

I was up early; there had been no possibility of sleep for me anyway. This was the day: the day I would become a "willing" cuckold. Before, I had been just the victim of a cheating wife. But no more, in a few hours that would all change. I wasn't nervous; I was terrified.

I heard Tiffany in the downstairs bathroom. I knew she was getting some things ready for the evening. She didn't want to be fooling with them later. I was busy with the coffee pot.

"Hi buster," she said, smiling the smile of one who was in control, which she was. "Excited about tonight?"

I swallowed. I swallowed hard. She noticed.

"Dex, you have to be loose about this. Kinda looking forward to it, or I don't want it to happen. I am doing this partly for me; yes, it will be hot and fun and all kinds of interesting. But if you're not into it neither am I. Okay?" she said.

"Yes. Yes. I'm fine. I won't pretend I'm not nervous, but I'm fine. It's kind of a turn on. I know I'll be better once we get started.

"Hey, I'm allowed to have some jitters, aren't I," I said

"Yes, of course you are. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I'm a little nervous too.

"You know what," she said. "I'll bet you a million bucks that Dwight is twice as nervous as either of us." She laughed and this time it was infectious; I laughed too.

"Yeah, you might be right," I said.

I watched the clock closely all day. She caught me doing it a number of times and just smirked. I stuck my tongue out at her once.

"Oh ho!" she said. "Is my little cuckold getting to be a smarty pants. You're going to pay for that one, just you wait," she said, kidding me-well, I hoped she was kidding me.

At 6:30 she was almost ready. She came downstairs dressed to kill. God my wife was beautiful. "You like?" she said.

"Isn't my tongue hanging out," I said.

She laughed at me. "Well, only a mile," she said.

"Good, I was afraid it was obvious," I said.

She was wearing a strapless black sheath, with four-inch come fuck me pumps. Her hair billowed out from her face and in the wildest curls I had ever seen on her. Her lips were ruby red and nails matched. And, she smelled wonderful.

"All this for your lover?' I said.

"Hell no," she said. "I never dressed like this for him. Just work clothes. This is for you. It's designed to drive you nuts, not him. "He'll get his jollies, make no mistake. But this night is really for you and me. Okay?"

She came to me and kissed me lightly on the lips. "Are you ready?" she said. "We don't have much time. I told him not to come early, but he will be on time; I'm certain of that."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready," I said. I tried to sound convincing, for me and for her. She took my hand and led me upstairs. She was in charge now.

I watched her butt sway from side to side as we made our way slowly up and to the bedroom. God she was beautiful, I thought. It was going to be a tough few hours for me to get through. Real tough.

The chair was set several feet from the queen-size bed we had shared for so long. It had not been there earlier, and it was new, heavy, and oaken. "Dex, would you like to leave your pants on or…?"

"I'll leave it up to you, I guess," I said. She smiled and nodded.

"Drop your pants, honey. Your undies too," she said.

"My shirt?"

"No, leave it on," she said. I stood in front of her naked from the waist down. She indicated that I should sit in the chair. She watched me as I got comfortable. My penis was harder than the chair I would be sitting on.

She went to the dresser and pulled out several lengths of rope. One strand was already looped into a simple noose, like a hangman's noose. She slipped it over my head and around my neck, slipping the noose snug, but not too tight. She pulled me gently back and tied it off behind me to the back of the chair. Next, she took a longer strand and held it up for me to see. "Put your hands behind your around the back of the chair, Dex," she said. I did as she commanded.

She bound my wrists very tightly behind me. "I hope that's not too tight, honey, but your bonds have to be secure," she said. I nodded.

"Their okay," I said.

She took one more long piece of rope and wrapped it around my chest. Next were my ankles. She looped strands of rope around each and secured them to the legs of the chair. I was spread wide and completely vulnerable to anything she or he would wish to do to me. I was totally at her mercy. She stood back and gazed into my eyes. I saw love there. She kissed me once more on the lips. "I love you," she said. She had one more thing to do to me.

"This is necessary, I'm afraid, Dex. I don't want you crying or threatening Dwight or being vocally jealous. Well, you know." She went behind me and fitted the ball gag into my mouth and pulled on it firmly and tightened behind my head. Now, I was not only immobile, I was also unable to object to anything as well.

Coming around to my front, she said, "Okay, my husband, now we wait for my lover." She turned and headed downstairs. It was six minutes to seven on the wall clock across from me.

Tiffany had been wrong. Her lover was four minutes early.

I could hear them out in the hall. I couldn't make out the words, but I could hear them. The tone was-tentative. It was clear to me that they were as nervous as I was. She was probably explaining to him what he was going to find when they came inside. Also, it was likely that he was getting instructions in how to behave. Whatever, the talking soon stopped and she led him by his hand inside. They were a dozen feet from me.

Dwight looked at me and smiled, but it was a friendly I-hope-this-is-okay-with-you-buddy smile. The noose around my neck made it difficult for me, and I didn't want to strangle myself by too much movement, but I nodded slightly acknowledging his greeting. He turned his attention back to the mistress of the evening. She looped her arms around his neck and they kissed, lightly, then more passionately.

My emotions were running amok. Seeing my wife lend serious affection to her lover hurt, a little; I couldn't deny it. His hands slipped down to her butt. I could see her smile at him. She turned toward me; her brow was wrinkled; I knew she was concerned about the effect their actions were having on me. I nodded my tiny okay to her. She smiled me her thank you.

Soon they were feeling each over up. They were still standing there a dozen feet from me, but it was clear that they weren't going to keep doing what they were doing for long.

He stepped back from her, touched her cheek and then turned her around. She was facing me as he slid the zipper on the back of her dress down. She hunched forward a little and the dress fell to the floor and pooled at her feet. She was in front of him, her back to him and I watched as he ground his hardness into her buttocks. His hands slid around to her front and cupped her breasts. She leaned back against him with her eyes closed in lust.

He got down on his knees behind her and undid her bra. It too now fell to the floor. His final act was to slowly very slowly pull down her panties and expose here completely bald mons and pussy lips. She still stood there, her eyes still closed. I could only see his face partially as she was still in front of him. It was obvious that he was licking her crack and her anus and loving it. God! how I wished it was me licking sucking her little brown place. I made a promise to myself that I would before the night was out. Well if she untied me at any rate.

His hand had snaked around to the front of her and had insinuated itself into the folds of her labia. She was jerking a little. I think she was having the first of a series of little orgasms as he played with her body.

Her eyes opened. She stared directly into my eyes and mouthed me a kiss. I started to cry, and she smiled at it. I was crying out of jealousy and desire and she knew it.

She turned around and her butt was for me to see as he licked her pussy with a ferocious intensity that I could well understand. He stripped in record time and his cock danced in front of her; she slapped at it playfully.

He stood and whispered something to her. She nodded. They came to me. She leaned forward placing her hands on the arms of the chair where I sat helpless, wordless, and bound. Her face was but inches from mine. She stuck her ass back and spread her legs wide for him. He looked at me thoughtfully and then began poking at her pussy from behind.

"Oh my, Dexter, he is so big. Bigger than you, honey; but not better, just bigger. It hurts a little. Ooooohhh," she mewed, as he pushed all of the way inside of her. He rubbed her back a little and then began drilling her. Soon he was screwing her fiercely. She choked back spittle from time to time as he mastered her and rudely handled her as though a conquest, one that she had to endure. Suddenly she began to jerk and shake and blubber something; the orgasm shook her to the core. She sagged a little as he emptied himself into her. She opened her eyes which had closed again during her cum. She mouthed me another kiss but did not touch me in any way.

He pulled her back to the bed and they sixty-nined each other. She was on top as his pole once again attained its hardness. He flipped her roughly over and took her in the missionary position. She stiffened and arched her back trying to drive as much of him as she could into herself. She screamed as her third orgasm tore through her.

He collapsed onto her, and after a moment rolled off. They cuddled and kissed and made romantic love. The tears in my eyes were many and seemingly endless during these moments. She was loving him, not just fucking him.

After a while, she rose and looked over at me. She brought him to me and knelt in front of him. They were sidelong to me. She began to stroke his cock. She stroked it for some time before he began jerking and spasming in the throes of his own orgasm. She aimed his cock at me and he spewed his cum all over my face and chest. She smiled. "My willing little cuckold," she said, smiling benevolently at me.

They returned to the bed, and cuddled a while. It was nine-twenty-two. He'd been with her-us- for almost two and a half hours. She said something to him and he got up, dressed, nodded to me, and left.

My wife came to me, touched my cheek and took the ball gag from my mouth. "It's time to reward my little cucky," she said.

I was silent. Well, I was silent until she engulfed my cock in her mouth and sucked me off with a passion I couldn't believe that she had left in her. She swallowed it all. She untied me, stripped me of my shirt, and took me to bed.

She looked at me seriously before she lay down beside me. "Did you enjoy it honey. I tried to make it as good as I could for you?" she said.

I was trying to form my first words since being released. Did I trust myself? "Yes, it was very good," I said. "But, I was so jealous…"

"That's what it's about, my little cuckold. You need to be jealous-and horny. It's what it's all about."

"I know," I said.

"It's time for you to do your duty," she said. And, I did.

We cuddled, and in the morning she fucked me once cowgirl style, and once with me taking her from behind. It was beautiful.

Finished and sated, I lay gasping. "Was it good for you, dear," said Tiffany, my wife.

"Yes, and I have to say, about last night, that your lover played his role very well. He cuckolded me well. I was jealous of him, but I did not hate him or want to hurt him," I said.

She smiled her thanks to me and kissed me gently. "Dexter, you know that as we get further into your cuckolding, it will be a little bit harder on you. You know that right?" she said.

I looked her askance. "I guess," I said tentatively, not really knowing what she meant. Her words left me a bit uneasy, but things had gone so well that I pushed any negative thoughts to the back of my mind. We'd see.

******

And things did go well, and remained fairly static for the next few months. Dexter would come over a couple of times a month, usually on a Friday night, and we'd repeat our experience of the first time. I had to assume they were also still doing it at the office, but I didn't have the balls to ask. While he was at the house though, he'd play with her, he'd fuck her two or three times while I was strapped down, and then it would be my turn. Finally, the last time we did it with Dwight-wait, I'll explain that in a moment; I'm getting ahead of myself-anyway, Tiffany put a couple of wrinkles in our game now.

"Honey, I'm not going to tie you up or gag you tonight," she said, "I mean not at first, just later."

"Thank God," I said. "It is really tiring for my jaw to be wedged open like that for so long a time."

"Weeell," that's a benefit to you, I guess; but that's not the main reason," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"I want you to be with me at the beginning and help get him ready for me," she said.

"What do you mean," I said.

"I need you to undress him, and well, be on your knees… " she paused in mid sentence waiting for me to understand. It finally dawned on me.

"You want me to suck him?" I said, turning red as a beet, I could feel it. She just watched me, saying nothing. But it was clear that it is something that she had been thinking about.

I nodded. "I'll try, but no guarantees," I said. "This is what you meant about things getting more-something-as time went along, right?"

"Partly, dear, But only if you agree. You are his cuckold after all as well as mine. You need to show it. You know? I mean on your knees?" she said. But—no demands only requests and the trying as you say," she said.

That next time with Dwight was slow and interesting. He evidently knew what to expect because he showed no surprise to find me untied, naked from the waist down, and on my knees when he arrived.

We did the scene and I got through it: me pulling his pants down and sucking him to steel hardness and then undressing the rest of him before my wife again strapped me into the chair. After which, of course, he fucked her silly.

We did our after cuckolding thing as usual when he left, and that set the tone for the next couple of months. Things seemed to be progressing. I began to worry a little that I was becoming too docile, and that made me even more jealous than I had been; but neither Tiffany nor Dwight did anything in particular to make me feel insecure or to be concerned about. It was then that everything changed.

As they lay there cuddling and me even more jealous and humiliated than usual he laid it on me.

"Dex, Tiffany, and I have something we have to say to you. Okay?" he said. Tiffany looked startled.

"Dwight, now is not the time. I mean it," she said. I was still bound tightly and gagged. I was unable to react except to look at the two of them and wonder what was about to be said.

"Tif, he needs to know, and you need to let me tell him. It's time," he said.

"No!" she said.

"Yes," he said.

Tif came to me and undid my ball gag, and began top release me. He came to her and stopped her.

"Please," he said, holding her wrist. "Before you let him loose, let me have my say." Tiffany looked daggers at him. She yanked her hand away realizing that the cat, whatever it was, was out of the bag. Something bad for me was about to be said.

He sat on the bed across from me. "Dex-Tif-Tif and I are in love."

I could feel the color drain from my face. "We've just been waiting for a good time to tell you. There is no good time. Tif will be seeking a divorce from you this week. Please, we did not mean for this to happen. It just did. I'm sorry," he said.

I looked over at Tiffany; she was crying. "Tiffany, please untie me. I won't hurt him-or you. I just have to get out of here. I need to be alone. Please untie me." My tone was urgent. She came to me tentatively. For his part he was dressing very fast. By the time I was loose and rubbing my wrists, he was gone.

"Dexter, I'm so sorry," she said. "It just happened." I nodded. I went to the closet and got my bags. I started throwing stuff into them. I was packed in less than thirty minutes.

"Tell him not to come around me. It isn't safe for him. You either," I said. She started at my last words.

"I'll sign the divorce papers, I said "But, no alimony or hitting my retirement account. You can have everything else. I don't want anything that will remind me of you." I turned and left.

"Dexter, I'm sorry, really!" she half screamed at me as I backed out of the driveway. My heart was dead. The bitterness was building to a crescendo. I needed to get out of there. If I did not, I knew I might actually hurt the one I had loved most in the whole world and in my whole life.

*******

I got the papers a week later. She gave me what I asked for: no alimony and no touching my retirement. She also had a check delivered to me for my half of the savings we had shared. She kept the checking account; well, she would be making the house payments. I was satisfied as much as I could be having lost my wife.

I fell into the usual routine of the emotionally destroyed spouse. Work, eat, drink, sleep. Social life? Zero. Interest in having one, also zero. I was numb. I was bitter. And I was alone and lonely.

Working at the bar kind of kept me on center.

An old friend of mine from school days, high school days, came by on a Thursday afternoon. It had been two months since I had signed the divorce papers. My feelings were still fragile, and my ability to concentrate on anything but the disaster to my home life for any length of time was almost nil.

"Bob, Bob Morrison," I said, in a very surprised voice. "I haven't seen you since Jesus was young."

"Dex, it's good to see you. Whatcha been doing," he said.

"Uh-well, working, getting divorced, and crying about it a lot," I said.

"Really?" he said. "Should I change the subject?"

"No, it doesn't matter. What is, is, I guess," I said.

"So what are you doing here?" I said.

"I'm in town for a few days. Got an APA convention to attend."

"APA?"

"American Psychological Association. I'm a member-very low ranking member," he said.

"Hah! I coulda used your services these past weeks," I said.

"Well, I'm here for you if you want to unload," he said, but it'll cost you several drinks.

"Sounds like I might be able to afford you," I said.

"Lay it on," he said. And, for the next two hours, except for interruptions by the occasional customer needing service, I did.

He nodded gravely. "It's evident that you still love her. That's why the hurt, mainly anyway. The humiliation you could maybe get by, but the psychological investment is a lot. I'm not going to kid you; it's going to take you a while."

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"What you need, is a replacement woman. Got anyone in mind?" he said.

"No, I haven't given it any thought. I'm too messed up," I said. "But, if you have any candidates you'd like to turn me on to?" I was only half kidding.

"I might. You busy Saturday afternoon?" he said.

"Have to work," I said. "But-wait." I headed for the back room. He was sleeping on the cot.

"Jimbo, wake up," I said.

"Huh? What the fuck, Dexter! I'm trying to get a little shuteye. I'm gonna be closin' tonight," he said.

"Jimbo, I need a favor," I said.

"Huh? What?" he said.

"I need you to work a double on Saturday. I gotta have it off," I said. "I'll work your shift tonight and tomorrow. How about it?"

"Oh, okay, I guess," he said. "What, you finally got yourself a woman? Hell, I'd pay the broad if she's a whore just so you stop mopin' around."

"Great," I said.

Returning to the front, Bob saw the smile I was sporting. "I can make it," I said.

"Excellent," he said. "The woman's name is Dixie. She's recently divorced herself, and a little on the ragged side emotionally. You two might be made for each other at least in the short run."

"Really. You her shrink?" I said.

"No, no. The APA frowns on dual relationships and she's someone I know real well, same as you. I can't be your official shrink either. If you'd like to see one, I mean officially, I'll recommend a good one. But, I can't be your clinician and be your friend too," he said. "Hope you understand."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Dixie, you say. Pretty name."

"Yeah, and she is kinda pretty," he said. "She's not really just a friend, Dex; she's my sister."

"Your sister? But you only had one sister. Mae, I think her name was. Been a long while. I met her once maybe," I said.

"Her name's Dixie Mae. Actually, Ellie May Crawford nee Morrison," he said. I nodded my understanding.

"Okay," I said. "Hope she doesn't expect too much; I've been pretty much a basket case here these past few months. But, I promise to treat her right. My ex humbled me pretty good, though, so I hope she won't expect someone who's a hundred percent together." I was rambling but I was excited too. I needed a woman to talk too, a real flesh and blood female human woman. I was needy, but I promised myself not to lay my excess baggage on her if I could help it.

******

The party was in full swing when I arrived. Bob met me at the front door, handed me a Lite, and led me out to the patio. There had to be fifty people in the back yard. He gave me the ten cent tour, and at the end of it I found myself looking at the back of a woman with a short, boyish, hairdo and a petite, almost fragile looking body.

Bob tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and we were greeted with what had to be the most tentative smile I had ever been in the presence of.

"Dixie Crawford, this is Dexter Lannin," he said.

"Pleased, thrilled actually," I said.

"Thank you," she said. "Nice to meet you." Her words seemed a little forced, but I figured she'd been clued that I would be there, so I took the plunge.

"Bob said he had a pretty sister. He didn't lie," I said. "She smiled, and again it seemed forced. I began to wonder if this had been such a good idea on my bud's part. So I asked her.

"Uh-Dixie, is there something wrong? I mean-I mean did Bob mention me to you?" I said. I was feeling and acting like a complete asshole. Well, in my defense it had been a million years since I had done anything like courting a female. And, regardless of what others might believe, it ain't like riding a bicycle.

"Uh-yes-he did Dexter. I just-I'm, well, kind of a basket case," she said. "I think he wants us to get together, Dexter, and I don't know if…"

"It's okay, Dixie. I completely understand. I've been kind of a basket case too. I'll just mosey around and maybe meet some of the other guests, see if I know anybody from the old days. Please don't feel pressured. You don't need it and neither do I," I said. I started to move off, and she came after me and grabbed my arm.

"No, no," she said, "I'm sorry, I'm just well a little skittish. There really isn't any reason you and I can't talk. Just-it's just that-well, I can't make a commitment of any sort right now. I'd like the company, but at the moment it is all I am looking for today. Okay?"

"Absolutely," I said. "I more than completely understand. Actually, I think we are both in about the same boat."

We talked for the next half hour. I learned about some of her betrayal by her hubby, and she learned of my similar experience with Tiffany. I think it was cathartic for the both of us; then, a torpedo sank my ship. Standing near the gate and being introduced to Bob, was Tiffany Lannin and Dwight Williams. My face paled, I could feel it. Dixie noticed.

"Dexter?" she said.

I nodded in the direction of the new arrivals. "My ex and her lover," I said. "I have to be going. I hope that your brother didn't invite them, because if he did we are no longer friends. Harummph! I wonder what Mr. Williams' wife is doing this afternoon. It was a rhetorical question."

I headed toward the house. I was hoping to get out of there before she saw me. I was seething. Just as I got to the sliding glass doors that would admit me to the house and then the front door exit I was seeking, she saw me. And, as it happened, I took that unfortunate moment to glance back in her direction. Her mouth fell open and she mouthed my name. I stared at her for the briefest of moments and then was out through the doors and moving to the front yard and street and my car.

Chagrinned, I saw that my car was trapped, I couldn't get it out without returning to get the guests, who'd blocked me, to move their cars. I started walking, walking fast. I'd come back later, or tomorrow, to retrieve it.

I'd almost gotten to the corner, a long block away, when a car pulled up beside me and Dixie hailed me to get in. I looked back down the block. I didn't see Tiffany, but I did see Dwight fussing near his car. He looked like he was going to get in it. I assumed he was going to try and chase me down though I couldn't think of any good reason for him to do so.

I got in Dixie's car, and asked her to drive-fast! I didn't know if Dwight had tried to follow us or not, but if he had; we'd lost him in traffic.

"Okay, buster, how come you ran away?" said Dixie.

"I can't deal with her," I said. "The wounds are too deep and too recent." She nodded.

"I understand," she said. "You got anywhere to go, or can you and I make an afternoon of it?" she said. I looked over at her.

"You'd do that for me?" I said.

"You, yes, and for me," she said. "I feel the same way about my cheating ex. He hurt me real bad." Boy, could I empathize with this woman.

"A day of it, it is, I said. "And maybe a night of it too if you're up for it."

"We'll see how it goes," she said.

*******

"I didn't know, Dwight. By God I didn't know. Whaddya think we should do? It seems like I can't do anything right. All I do is hurt the guy," said Tiffany.

"It's not your fault or mine. What are the odds that we'd bump into each other in a private home like this," he said.

"I-we've-gotta find him and straighten this out," she said. "I just know he thinks we came here to humiliate him!"

"Tiff, I doubt he thinks that. Anyway, his car is still here. He has to get it some time," he said.

"I don't know, Dwight, but I'm staying till he comes to pick it up," she said. He nodded his support.

"Okay. We'll both stay. But, he won't be back for a while, Let's do what we came for and socialize with the Stahoskis. They invited us to come along and we are obligated to stick to our promise," he said. She nodded her assent.

******

"Dixie, thanks a million for a great day-and evening. You are one heckuva dancer," I said smiling my broadest as we returned to the house.

"You are entirely welcome. You made me feel half way human again," she said. "I was beginning to think that that was not going to be possible for me." She leaned in and put her arms around my neck and pulled me to her. We kissed long and softly.

"I needed that," she whispered.

"Me too," I said. "Can I call you?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "And, don't be long in the doing." I smiled. She pulled back and I got out of the car and headed for my own. It was no longer blocked. I didn't notice the figure coming up on my right and somewhat behind me as I keyed my door.

"Dexter, could I have a word with you please," said the voice. The voice of Tiffany, my soon to be ex-wife.

I'm sure that I jumped six inches straight up. "Jesus, Tiffany, you startled me. What the hell are you doing here. We're getting divorced-your idea as I recall. And, it's after midnight," I said. I wasn't being nice.

"Uh-I-we've-been waiting for you. I can't tell you how shocked I was, Dex, when I saw you here today." She nodded toward the house. "We didn't come to embarrass you, Dex, or anything like that, really. It was pure coincidence."

Over my initial reaction, I looked her up and down; she looked good. I looked around. "You said 'we' where is the asshole," I said.

"Dex, he's not a bad man. He just-we-just fell in love," she said. "It wasn't anything we planned."

"What the fuck ever," I said. "You still haven't answered me. Where…"

"He's back with the car," she said. She nodded back down the street. I could barely see their car in the shadows.

I sneered, but only to myself. "Good, have him stay there. I don't want to see his fucking ass," I said. "I'm telling you this as a warning. I hate the bastard, and I do not want to spend the rest of my life in jail for killing him. Got it, Tiffany?

"But, I'm confused. Why are you here? I think I already asked you that," I said.

"Dexter, in spite of everything, I still love you. It's just that-well-Dwight and I-we're-we're meant for each other in a very special way. I had to choose, Dexter, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Anyway, I wanted you to know that I didn't come here today to embarrass you. I really didn't. It was a pure coincidence. Honest to God," she said.

I looked at her with some interest. I believed her. But, I still had one question. "Tiffany, I have just one thing to ask you. Are you friends with Bob Morrison? I mean after today. You gonna be around him, his circle of friends. Be his friend?" I said.

"Huh? I guess we're friends. He invited me and Dwight to dinner next week, with the Stahoskis," she said. "Why?"

I just stared at her. "I gotta go. Have fun at your dinner next week," I said.

"Dex…"

I was already sliding into my car and keying the ignition. I pulled out and into the street. I headed home.

******

I fell back into my now well worn routine: wake up, eat, work, eat, drink, sleep and repeat the list six days a week. Sunday's, my regular day off, I slept most of the day. At night, I'd watch a little TV and get ready for the next set of six stinkin' days.

Two full months later, I had a visitor. It was early Sunday morning. I was not a happy camper being awakened by my nuclear powered doorbell before the sun had even had a chance to get serious.

"Well, asshole, said the visitor, why haven't you called!" said Dixie.

"Huh?" I said, still rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

"You heard me, Dexter Lannin. You promised to call, and You haven't. This the way you treat all of your dates?" she said.

I left the door open and she followed me inside and closed the door behind her. I was still groggy.

"Your boxers are nice," she said, "but you might at least wanna put a robe on."

I looked down, then up, and darted down the hall for my pants and t-shirt. For sure I had to have had my head up my ass to answer the door dressed like that, I thought to myself.

Emerging from the hallway once more, I didn't see her, but I heard her. She was in the kitchen.

"I thought I'd put some coffee on while you figured out what lie you were going to tell me as to why you've utterly neglected me," she said.

"Yeah, right," I said.

The coffee maker under way, she came to the table where I had found my usual perch and took a seat across from me.

"Well," she said. "Why no callzee-wallzee?"

I wished I'd had my cup already. I needed a cup bad. How could I tell any credible version of a lie without having had my coffee first. The woman wasn't cutting me any slack. I fell back on an old strategy that I normally would never have thought of employing in a situation like this one-I told the truth.

"It's complicated," I said.

"Risk it," she said. I looked down for a moment, then up.

"My ex and your brother have become friends. I will not deal with anyone who has as common friends me my wife and of course her asshole.

"Your Bob's sister. Since I can't ask you to shine on your brother for life. I just decided to disappear.

"For the record, Dixie, that afternoon and evening that we were together I had begun to think that maybe-

"Well, anyway, it's a non happening, so why belabor the issue," I said.

"Huh? Are you serious? You're dumping me, almost before we get to know each other because my brother is friends with your ex? Did I get that right?" she said.

"That's about the size of it," I said.

"Young man, my brother does not dictate my social life. His friends have nothing to do with us. I don't get you," she said.

"It's simple really," I said. "Any friends of Tiffany and asshole's are not friends of mine-period, no negotiation. The humiliation I endured at their hands will never go away, not completely at any rate. I actually hate the two of them.

"I know it's not rational. Anyway, as you can see you're better off without a nutcase like me," I said. She was slowly shaking her head.

"First off, why would you think that he has made friends with the dynamic duo?" she said. "I know you haven't talked with him. He asked me if I'd seen you, and I told him not since the day of the barbecue. He said to tell you, if I saw you, to drop by. I can tell you he doesn't know any of this."

"Maybe not, but can you see me issuing an ultimatum to him to either cut the pair off or he and I are no longer friends?" I said. "I can't. He has a right to choose his friends, and so do I.

"Any relationship I could possibly have with anyone else would become immediately toxic if my enemies were involved," I said.

"I see. Still, you owe it to Bob to at least tell him. Leaving him in the dark for what may be the rest of your two lives is irrational and unfair, and I think you know it," she said.

"I know it is. I just can't face facing him. And, I will not budge on this issue. I will not share anything including friends in common with her or her asshole," I said. She nodded.

"You know," said Dixie, "You've told me how much she's hurt you and that you hate her-and him. But, maybe because we haven't spent much time together, you haven't said anything about your marriage before the blow up. Wanna share now?"

We heard the coffeemaker sputtering; the black elixir was ready.

******

"And that's the short and the short of it," I said. Having given her the short version; the long would wait for another day.

"You did the cuckold scene then?" she said. "Jesus, that sounds so hot, and so-dirty!" I just smirked.

"Yeah it was all of that," I said. "But, it ruined my marriage, I guess. I should have expected it. I didn't."

"But, you say your married life was good until, well, until that last night. I mean except for her screwing around with him before you found out about it. I mean you thought she and you-I mean the two of you were happy and in love until then," she said.

"Yes. I know it sounds confusing the way you are trying to say it-badly-but yes," I said. She slowly shook her head.

"I'm no psychologist like my brother, Dexter, but I think you miss her. I mean I know she's gone forever, and you have to get on with things, but it's going to be hard for you. I know because I'm in the same boat," she said.

"Well, okay, I've been a dickhead acting like I have toward you, Dix. Maybe, the two of us can be each other's anchor, you know at least for a while," I said. "I shoulda called you. You did nothing wrong, and you aren't her friend or his. I'll do better if you let me, okay?"

"Okay," she said, smiling. She came around to me and gave me a hug.

"Why don't you pour the coffee woman," I said, feigning the role of dictator.

We sipped our coffees and talked some more about our respective spouses and how they dumped us; then, she made me a proposition.

"Dexter, I want you to talk to my brother. You never know," she said.

"Okay," I said, capitulating. "I owe 'you' that at the very least.

"You know, Dixie, you are going to have to give me a longer version of your breakup, one of these days," I said. "Up to now it's only been me talkin'."

"I will," she said, but not this morning.

******

Lunch was at first cautious, then kinda noisy, then satisfactory.

"She never mentioned your name, Dex. I swear," said Bob.

"That is strange as hell because she saw me at the barbecue. She knew I was embarrassed. She knew I was hurt to see her there with him. And, I figured you were going to remain friends with them; hence, no call from me, Bob.

"I mean since I figured you had to know after the dinner if not before that we were quits forever," I said.

"I didn't know, Dex. I didn't. But… " he grew quiet.

"What," I said. "Wait, you intend to remain friends with them don't you?"

He interwove his fingers and tented them in front of him, elbows on the table. "In a word, yes, Dexter. I do. The two of them haven't done or said anything bad about you, nor have they done anything to offend me. People get divorced, Dex. They just do. It's part of life. You need to get by it. I know it's hard, but -well, I will try and help you if I can. And there is something else," he said.

"Save it, Bob, you are entitled to your friends; and I'm entitled to mine. So, thanks a million for the great dinner and the fine wine. I guess I'll be going now," I said. I stood. I glanced at Dixie. She spoke.

"Sit down, stud," she said. "Let my genius brother finish, at least."

"Dixie-I…"

"Shut up, lover, I mean it. And sit down. We're not through here," she said. I glared at her, but I did as she said. I was beginning to realize just what a big ass wimp I really was.

"As I was about to say, Dexter, that woman, your ex, still loves you. I know it like I know that the sun will rise in the east tomorrow," he said. "It's the little things a shrink looks for in a client that tells the tale. I didn't have a context until now. But, now it all makes perfect sense. The looks between them, the tone of voice in answer to intimate questions or otherwise offhand comments. Oh yeah, she is in the initial stages of buyer's remorse, Dex. No question about it," said Bob.

"You're full of it, Bob. Oh, she feels guilty, I guess. I could grant that-I suppose. But, really love me! No fucking way," I said.

"Way," he said, smiling broadly.

We talked for some minutes and agreed to disagree, but on the upside a friendship had been saved-by Dixie. Also on the plus side my friendship with Dixie had been saved as well, not that it had been in any real danger, but had Bob and I not come to an understanding things might not have worked out over the long haul with me and her.

******

The fact that Dixie and I were kind of quasi-lovers and very good friends worked for me over the next weeks. We talked to each other daily. And, since I was the one with the rawest wounds it was mostly about me. I knew at some point I would be listening to her tell me about the break up with her asshole, just as she was now listening to me. I made myself a promise that when that time came that I would definitely be there for her. At any rate, for now, she was my rock, and I needed her.

"You look to be in better spirits today, cowboy," said Dixie.

"I guess, I am," I said. "And, it's all your fault."

"Okay, I guess I'll have to do my penance," she said. "Would five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys suffice?" I laughed.

"You are good for me," I said. Becoming serious, I said, "You know, Dixie, you've helped me enormously. But-I should be helping you too. I know you're hurting every bit as much as I am."

"You help me," she said. "Just being there for me is a huge help."

"And, I am there for you, Dix, I really am. Just say the word and I'm there." She smiled and nodded.

"I know.

"I have some news," she said.

"Oh?" I said.

"You remember the barbecue, right?" she said.

"How could I forget it?" I said.

"Yes, well, silly question. Anyway, I asked around. You know, people where your ex and asshole work talk when they drink. A couple of them are regulars at Momma's. I engaged a couple of them in a little gossip and stuff. Dwight's divorce will be final almost the same time as yours and Tiffany's: in three more weeks," she said.

"And, his wife, Letitia, is stunned by his betrayal of her. I know because I went and asked her?" she said.

"You went to her and asked her that?" I said, surprised. "To her house?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "She's really stuck it to him too. She may own his-their-business before long. She's suing him for it, I mean all of it. I guess it was her dad's money that financed it. Asshole won't have a pot to piss in very soon if the cards fall right."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole," I said.

The sex that night was cathartic. Dixie did know how to make a man forget, at least for a little while.

******

The divorce was final three and a half weeks later. I showed up for it and so did Tiffany. Neither Dixie nor Dwight the asshole was there. I knew Dixie couldn't make it because she actually had something to do with her brother. I of course had no knowledge of what kept asshole away. Tiffany gave me a little wave as she entered the courtroom. I raised my hand in acknowledgement, but I didn't smile, she did; that surprised me.

The proceedings were brief. The judge sounded the gavel, and I was single again, so was she. How long that remained the case was anyone's guess at that moment. I figured Tiffany and her soon to be husband wouldn't wait long, but who knew for sure.

As I was exiting the courtroom with my lawyer she came up to me. "Can we talk?" she said. I looked askance at her.

"Doesn't today's proceedings put an end to that," I said. "I mean you dumped me, now you want to talk. I don't see the point."

"Dexter, please, I won't take up much of your time. I know we haven't talked in these last months, and I think we should have," she said. "I have some things I'd like top say, and if you do-well-it might be our last chance for a long time." I nodded, reluctantly, but I nodded my okay.

"There's a coffee shop across the street; I could use a cup," I said. "Let's go over there."

We found a small table for two near the front entrance. It was trafficky, but nobody was paying attention to us.

We sipped our coffee and I waited to hear what she wanted to talk about.

"Dex, I guess you know his divorce will be final in two more weeks?" She watched to see if I actually did know.

"No, I didn't. I guess I knew it would be soon, but not exactly when," I said.

"Dex, I have been sick at heart at how you and I came to an end. I just had to see you and talk about it. If you need to leave, I mean if this is too much, if this is just me trying to make me feel better, and I hope it's not, just tell me," she said.

"Tiff, I'm sick about it too. I don't know why you came to the point where you couldn't keep our original agreement to let nothing come between us. I knew from the git-go that this fantasy stuff might be a problem, and I think I said so, as I recall. But, you swore it wouldn't. But it did, didn't it," I said. She nodded.

"I never saw it coming, Dex. I fell in love with him; and, I was still in love with you as well. I wanted to ease you into it, I mean the breakup. You know see if you wanted-what you wanted-really. I didn't get the chance. As you saw; he short shanked me. And, now it's too late," she said. She was beginning to tear-up. I reached across the table and took her hand.

"Tif, I hated you for a while there for what I saw as you selling me out for a bigger cock. But, Dwight is smooth. He had me convinced too. I never saw it coming either. He was such a nice guy, that is, until he stabbed me in the back. And, the way I see it you did too. You may be in love with him, but Tif, you do not belong with him. Maybe not with me either, but not him," I said. She was crying now and people were beginning to notice.

"Dex, I still want to be friends," she said. I want to see you around. You know, be able to talk to you without hate or anger or jealousy coming between us. I need to have you in my corner still, and I don't care how ridiculous that sounds," she said.

"Tiffany, I don't think I can bend that much. I don't hate you anymore, I guess, but that's about all I can promise, at least for now. We meant everything to each other once, and then you betrayed me; that was and is just too overwhelming for me," I said. "Asshole is your man now; he isn't going to be wanting you talking or being anything to me; he owns you; I can see it."

"Dwight? Hell, no he doesn't own me! I can assure you of that. This is about you and me not him anyway. I will treat him right, and we will marry. I do love him. But, I will not let him cut you off from me or me from you. Can you believe that at least?" she said.

"No," I said. "I can't see it." I was beginning to cry myself. Talk about maudlin moments. She shook her head and muttered something I didn't catch; I didn't ask her to repeat it.

We talked a little longer about the future. Dixie came up in the conversation once or twice and Tiffany wished me happiness if I went that way; and then we parted. The future was to still to be played out, and it was about to take some strange turns along the way. What was strangest of all was the sense that we still had very strong feelings for each other that would not be denied even with her being in love with asshole.

******

After my meeting with Tiffany, I was melancholy for days. I began to realize that I had to start getting on with my life and to close the chapter with Tiffany once and for all-easier said than done. Dixie was my rock. She held me and consoled me and fucked me to a state of serious groinal pain.

It was maybe three months later that she, Dixie, had had enough.

"Will, it's time you listened to me, now," she said. "And, it is time for you to get a grip and wake up to the future. Okay?" she said. At that moment I had an epiphany, I realized that I had been totally selfish, that this wonderful woman that had been holding my hand for so long needed exactly the same thing that I had been needing. I would give that to her and anything else she required. It was on me now.

"Dix, I'm sorry. I have been a complete nunutchka! But no more, tell me," I said.

"We were in love Latimer Crawford and I. We were married. Married for nine years. No children. He cheated. He cheated with our housekeeper. He came home one night and told me that he needed to ask me for a divorce. He was actually crying. I think it was because he was hurting me. He was hurting me, and he couldn't help himself. I actually felt sorry for him. We divorced. He married her: some twenty-something teenie bopper. That was two years ago. I haven't seen nor heard from him since then. I think that was her wish, I mean that he not see me ever again," she said. "The pain has never gone away, has never left me."

"Jesus," I said. "Well, I definitely know how you feel. I've been there. But, in my case it was the lover that delivered the crusher, not my wife. Oh, she was in on it, but she wanted to break it to me gently; he on the other hand wanted it over and done with. He stole her from me, just as your husband's lover stole him from you," I said. "We're sure a pair aren't we?"

We were sitting together in my living room. I dimmed the lights. "Let's go to bed, Dix. I need to hold you. I need to protect you as you have protected me. Honest to God I don't know how I would have survived without you, and I can imagine that you need the same kind of support. I'm here for you Dix, I am," I said.

******

Bob Morrison was not going to sit idly by and watch a friendship go by the boards or develop a possible rift with his sister either. Not being the village idiot, he decided he had to do something to change the situation if he could, and he was confident that he could. Being a psychologist was a big advantage for him. He couldn't actually read minds, but he could predict with some degree of accuracy how others were likely to react to certain pressures and stimuli. He was about to bring all of his biggest guns to bear on the situation.

The situation, or, more accurately, the situations? His sister still loved her ex-husband. His best friend still loved his ex-wife. Dex and Dix had, he knew, helped each other to adjust to the loss of their significant others; but they were not meant to be together over the long haul. Reconciliations with their respective ex's? Maybe. He was about to dare the undareable.

The lady was the first to arrive. She was tentative. "Uh-Mr. Morrison? I don't know about this. My divorce is barely in the history books," said Letitia Williams.

"Letitia, you and I have talked about this for the past several days. The man I intend for you to meet knows your situation, he knows you're a black lady-he's seen your picture, and it's all systems go. Just play it by ear. He needs a woman, you need a friend; he's very much suited to you, at least on paper. Whether there is actually chemistry between you, well, I'll have to let the two of you decide as to that; but I think you both have reason to at least see if the fit is a good one," said Bob. She nodded.

"Okay," she said.

"Do you think the others will come," said Letitia. "Do the two D's know what's in store for them?" He laughed.

"There'll be fifty people here within the hour. But, as to your meaning, all I can say is I hope so," he said, knitting his brow. "And no, they don't have a clue. The only ones in the know are you and I."

******

I hadn't heard from Dixie for a couple of days. Not a biggee. There had been other times over the past months that I hadn't seen her for a day or two. I knew I likely would at the barbecue that Bob had planned for today. The last one hadn't gone so well for me, but I had hopes that Dixie would make this one a better one for the both of us.

"Hi, Bob," I said, as I came through the gate. "Looks like you're all set up. Can I help with anything?"

"Hey Dex, glad you could make it. You can man the grill, if you want," said Bob. "You'll be rotated out after a short time.

"Here, I think you know Letitia," said Bob, he was smiling.

"Sure bet," I said. "Hello, Letitia, this is a surprise. I didn't know you knew Bob."

"I didn't," she said. "He contacted me? He has someone for me to meet." I looked her askance, but didn't pursue it; I would later, with Bob.

"Dixie gonna be here? I haven't seen her for a couple of days, and she didn't answer her phone this morning," I said.

"Yeah, she'll be here. She had to go to our mom's the day before yesterday to help her with stuff. She said she tried to call you. You must've been out," said Bob.

"Yeah. I guess. I have been out some. Well, no biggee. If she's gonna be here, we'll figure it out then," I said.

"Talking about me?" said Dixie, sashaying in through the gate I'd just come through. I went to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek; she returned it.

Bob, you look a little somber," I said. "Hope nothing's wrong," I said.

"No, no. Nothing's wrong. We're just waiting for the other guests to arrive," he said.

As if on cue, The guests did start arriving, and that in large numbers.

I had taken over the grill, but at some point, a fellow named Melvin had rotated me outta there.

Couple after couple had come through the gate. Soon the large backyard and the game room adjacent to the pool were teeming with people. I knew some of them, but most not. Dixie had my arm as we meandered among the guests. As it turned out, she did know most of them.

I was returning with drinks for us when I saw Dixie, across the yard, go gray in the face and virtually freeze. I followed her gaze to a man just coming into the yard. He stood frozen there as well.

"Hello, Dixie," said the stranger now to her. I knew immediately it had to be her ex. I knew she still loved him. I was no fool. She was my friend, even my bed partner, but this had been the love of her life. I went up to them.

Dixie was flustered. "Uh-Latimer-this is-is-…"

"Dexter," I said. "Dixie and I are friends. I don't even have to ask. You're Mr. Latimer Crawford unless I miss my guess."

"I am, yes," he said. I handed each one of the drinks that I had intended for Dixie and me.

"I'll just mosey around while you two get-uh-reacquainted," I said.

I watched, unobtrusively from a distance, as Dixie and her ex talked. They were looking serious. She nodded and said something to him. She turned and walked over toward me. "He wants to take me somewhere and talk to me," she said.

"Dixie, go for it. But, be sure before you commit to anything," I said. "You and I have talked long and hard about this possibility. Right?"

"You won't feel bad my abandoning you?" she said.

"Absolutely not. I want to see you happy. But-I do want you to be careful. I mean… " I said.

She kissed me on the lips. "Thank you, Dex, you're the best," she said. I headed over to Bob who was being held in thrall by two women.

"Well, Bob, it looks like I've lost my anchor, at least for today" I said. "Got any more like her to keep me company?"

"You never know," he said. I looked at him and knitted my brow? He shrugged. I remembered that I'd wanted a drink, but had given mine to Latimer. I headed back over to the mini-bar. I was talking to the man mixing the drinks when I heard my name called.

I turned around, "Tiffany!" I said. I was startled. I looked around, but I didn't see him."

"He's not here, Dex," she said. I narrowed my eyes.

"Where is he?" I said.

"He's not coming, Dex. We broke up. It was a mistake. The marriage never happened. He, as it turns out, has a couple of other-lovers-on the side that he neglected to tell me about. I'm just glad I didn't make the mistake of marrying him," she said.

"Why are you here, Tif? I mean really," I said.

"Well, Bob invited me, but I almost didn't come. He said there was somebody he wanted me to meet. Somebody who'd been recently divorced and was hurting. Somebody, I hurt," she said, looking down.

I think my mouth was hanging open. "Me?" I said, pointing to myself. "Bob did that!"

She smiled sheepishly. "Yes sir," she said, "he did.

"I was a fool, Dex. I think I knew it even then. Anyway, if you feel uncomfortable with any of this…"

"I feel uncomfortable as hell, Tif, and I'm not kidding," I said. Her smile faded.

"Oh," she said, "I'm sorry, I'll just go. I didn't mean to-" My turn to smile.

"No, no, Tif. It's just that my hardon is in the wrong position in my pants. If you'd just move a little to the left there and cover me so I can fix it," I said.

She broke out into the biggest smile I think she ever had. "The heck with that, buster. Suffer," she said. She put her arms around me and kissed me deeply. Bob had suddenly come over; I hadn't seen him.

"You two need to get a room. There's one down the hallway on the right," he said. "There's a lock on the door too." He meandered away.

Without so much as a word between us, I took her hand and led her into the house.

******

"Howard Miller, this is Letitia Williams. Letitia, Howard," said Bob.

"Nice day," said Howard. Letitia broke out in an out of control horse laugh.

"Is that your best line?" she managed, while trying to catch her breath.

Howard looked down. "Uh-I guess," he said.

"Well then, I guess that we may get along fine," she said. She did not try to hide her laughter.

******

I shut the door behind me. "Well," I said, "and what do we do now?" I was smiling big and wide.

"I can think of a couple of things. I mean if you're into them," she said.

"Like?" I said.

"Well, we could make out and talk and stuff?" she said.

"Make out? You mean like teenagers?" I said.

"Kinda. Maybe a little more advanced," she said. "Hmm, actually, maybe way more advanced."

"I can do that," I said. Just then the door slammed open.

"Dwight!" screamed Tiffany. His timing could not have been worse, but on the other hand I had to admit seeing him at that moment, his purpose clear, was more exciting for me than sex would have been with Tiffany-well almost.

"So this is the meeting you had today," said Dwight.

"Dwight-you know we are quits," she said. "We talked about this."

"No you talked about it. We aren't quits. Certainly not on wimpy's account," he said.

"What did you say, Dwightee baby," I said. He glowered at me.

"Yeah, I know all about your history as a bouncer, wimpy," he said. "But, you know as well as I do that a good big man will always trump a good little man in any kind of serious argument, and I'm a real good big man. So, shut the fuck up while I talk to my woman."

"Your woman has dumped you, 'real good big man'," I said.

"No-no-no," he said. "She's just a little confused; you know, feeling sorry for her ex-little man," he said. "You know-you!" I smiled. Mentally, I was promising the gods of war human sacrifice for this opportunity.

I took the two steps, that I needed to take to interpose myself between Tiffany and an obviously soon to be real upset ex-lover. "I'm sorry, but you're leaving," I said.

Now it was Dwight's turn to smile. "I don't think so, wimpy," he said. He closed on me. He sent a haymaker my way via snail mail. I stepped into him and my short quick uppercut stunned him for a full two or three seconds; it was enough. I followed that with a left hook to the lower ribcage and followed that with right hook to the lower jawline. She staggered. Setting himself, his face was a mask of hate.

I was calm and patient. He threw a couple of air-jabs my way and I didn't even move. He rushed me. I met him with a half dozen alternating right-lefts to the pan of the face. Bleeding from the eyebrows, nose, and lip his face was covered with blood. He swore.

"Not bad for a little man," he said, finally

. "But not good enough." He came at me again. I side-stepped him and fired a kick at the side of his knee; it buckled and he went down.

"When you gonna land something, good big man," I said.

"Fuck you!" he yelled. He tried to get up but his left leg would not support the effort; he stumbled backward and down against the dresser. The fight was over.

"Guess you were wrong, good big man," I said. All of a sudden twenty faces appeared in the room and in the corridor outside.

"Dex! Are you okay," said a breathless Bob.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, but humpty isn't," I said. "He had a great fall."

"The cops are on their way," said Bob.

They hauled my nemesis off in cuffs. He'd spend the night in jail, make bail in the followingam And, get seriously drunk in the aftermath. Well, why the hell not; I'd been there same as him. The difference was I hadn't stolen another man's wife.

******

Epilog:

Dixie and Latimer reunited, but Dixie was holding off letting him remarry her until she was sure that they could make a go of it once more. She was, however, optimistic. I thought that she was doing good; she was going slow as I had advised her.

Letitia and Howard were dating. Time would tell on that one, but they sure looked good together.

Dwight's humiliation was total. He especially found it difficult to come to grips with the fact that one of his women had dumped him. That coupled with his set-to with her wimpy ex-husband, me, was beyond enduring, but his realistic options were nil.

As for me and Tiffany? We still have our fantasies, and sometimes we act them out, but never more than once with an individual. We would never again allow ourselves to become embroiled with another situation like our last. Re-marriage? Not yet, but maybe, probably, soon.

-----------------------------

   Series:Trish and Jerry
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:This story is a somewhat dramatized true life story submitted to me by a reader.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/58047/trish-and-jerry
Published:2008-10-11
It was raining cats and dogs, but I didn't give a good goddamn! Herdin' a semi down the road was better than watchin' them damn soaps. Retirement-reshmirement, it sucked. Being retired ain't nuthin' but waitin' to die. Not me, not anymore, I'm workin' again. I pulled the big rig into the diner and parked for easy egress later on. I only had a couple of hours more road time, but I was hungry. The construction project would have to get along without its rebar till I filled my belly.

So "what" am I? I'm a fifty-eight year old retiree-make that ex-retiree-pushing a Kenworth down the road to the California-Oregon border, delivering rebar to AST Construction Ltd. Well, I had to do something. I really do hate soaps. I hate puttering around the garden. But, most of all I hate feeling useless.

Even my wife of Twenty-eight years, Trish, was nagging at me to give it up, the retirement, and go back to messin' with computers for a living; that was my old job in silicon country. Oh, I almost forgot, I'm Jerry McGuire; and no, I don't look like Tom Cruise; I'm taller.

I had finally seen the light, that was a year ago, and I'd gone out and gotten my class-A license. I'd gotten the bug to drive big rigs late in life, true, but got it I did, so I went for it. At any rate, like I said, I'd had to do something; I was going crazy doin' next to nuthin'.

So "who" am I? Who is my wife? Am I happy? Are we happy? I'll be getting' to all that shortly; it's kinda complicated. Anyway, I guess I should tell you a little about our backgrounds.

I was born on Oklahoma, not too far from Muskogee. My father was an alky. And, because of the heavy drinkin' keepin' a job was not exactly his thing, so we did without. We moved to California when I was a kid, I was around eight, I guess.

We were so poor that workin' the farms of the San Joaquin as de facto migrants was about all that was left to us. So we picked grapes, cotton-I hated pickin' cotton-or any other crop that was in season.

There were five us. Dad, when he was around, mom, me, and my two sisters. I always felt sorry for my sisters; they deserved a better life; mom too if it came to that; she was one beautiful lady in my opinion. Still in retrospect, it wasn't all bad. The work was hard enough, but we were treated well, and never really felt put upon.

It was the mid-fifties when my dad finally got a job he was able to keep for a while. He was a tire man for trucking company. The job and the money were good while they lasted, and they lasted about a year until he lost both: he'd gotten arrested on a DUI charge. It was the final straw for him; he left us for good after that, and we never saw him again.

Mom got a job doing laundry and we moved out of the house we'd been living in and shacked up in a cheap motel for a long period.

We kids were going to school at this time, and riding the bus to get there. For me it was good. We riders became a thing and formed a quasi-gang. We called ourselves the Narods-don't ask me why. We weren't into drugs or anything, but we were rough cut and tended to consume ship loads of beer on occasion. As a group we were feared enough that the Mexican and black gangs pretty much left us alone; I guess we were more trouble than we were worth.

As for school, high school, I got mostly C's. I played a little football, tight end, and we won some games and some self-respect while I was on the team. I quit playing after my junior year. I'd hit a guy so hard that he died from his injuries; I hated myself for a long time after that, and sports didn't seem so important.

Physically, in the old days, I was around six-foot tall and a tad over 200. I'm still only around 220, so I haven't deteriorated too much over the last thirty some years.

Girls? I feared them. Plus, I didn't have a car, and without one, I didn't have the balls to ask any of them out. So, sexually, I was mostly deprived until after I graduated from high school. Like I say, I wasn't too successful with the girls; but I more than made my case with the males around me. Most of them feared me. My compadre, Anselmo, used to say that I was tough, mean, and evil. I guess I was. Being mister macho got me in trouble on occasion, but I did manage to (1960) graduate, and it was at my graduation that I first saw her: the boon and the bane of my life ever since. Trish Mendoza was pretty, short, long-haired, big chested, and feisty. She never saw the scale that would let her top a hundred pounds, and even now she's still petite. I loved her from moment I met her at a graduation party. She had gotten the last beer in the cooler and she shared it with me; that made her a true angel of mercy in my eyes. Her brother, a Chicano gang member, was there too. As the party broke up, and we were all leaving. A group of blacks tooled by, recognized him, and chose him off.

Jose was not a big kid and I found myself backing him up. The fight was pretty intense. Two blacks ended up in the hospital, Jose ended up going home with his sister, and I ended up in jail. It seems the cops took a dim view of my stomping on the kneecaps of the two guys who went to the hospital. The one thing my dad had taught me that I never forgot was, "Son, he who fights fair loses often." Well, the advice worked for me, but it had its downside.

I had just turned eighteen, and the judge gave me a choice: reform school or the service. I joined the Navy. I was in for four years. During this time, I finally got a car to wheel women around in; and as a result my sex life improved dramatically. Trish became a primary beneficiary of my ever widening experience and sexual repertoire. Geezsus she was good. Good and insatiable. Good, insatiable, and popular. And I loved all of those things-well, maybe not the popular thing so much.

The day I got out jail, Trish had been there to greet me. "Hi Jerry, got a little time for me?" she said.

I think my smile gave me away, "Of course," I said. We headed off to a nearby diner. I wondered if she was going to like me in Navy blue. The talk was mellow and about nothing and everything. She was so damn cute that I knew I just had to have her. The good news was that she wanted me too. Our first date was two days later: we went to the drive-in, and I got my first piece of ass in a long time. I'd had to borrow a car from Anselmo, but he was cool about it. Oddly, I remember the movie; it was an old movie, the Long Hot Summer with Paul Newman.

The woman's tits were extraordinary pieces of art work. The nipples extended a full inch and they were utterly suckable. And, suck I did! As the windows in the car steamed up, I undressed her. Her bush was lush and she smelled oh so female.

"Well, big boy, you got me naked, now it's your turn," she said. She unzipped me, pulled down my pants, and felt me through my shorts. "Oh my, we are a big boy aren't we," She had me as naked as she was in no time.

We played for a little while as the carbon dioxide from the heavy breathing filled the cab of the car. I cracked the window a little to let some of the cool night air in and some of the CO2 out. Soon I was fingering her and she was hosing me.

I laid her down on the back seat, where we had adjourned to. I loomed above her. "Do it," she commanded. I pressed into her about an inch, pulled out and pushed in again, this time all the way. I relaxed for a moment kissing her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me to her tightly. I began pumping in and out of her. She gurgled and her breaths were coming in short bursts as she got into it. Saliva dripped from the side of her mouth as her eyes glazed over in ecstasy. We came at the same time. I let the full weight of my body sag onto her. She bit my ear.

"Ow!" I yelled.

"You're too heavy," she said. "I gotta breathe."

"Sorry," I said. I was being selfish." I rolled off of her and we both sat up, still naked, I looked at her. "I guess we better dress before one of those theater guys comes around with his flashlight."

She nodded. "Yeah, I guess so," she said.

We spent the next month seeing each other almost every day. We managed to screw maybe half a dozen times during the month, and then I was off to basic and eventual posting to carrier duty. I was in the Navy for four years. Home base was Alameda in the Bay area. I got in to see Trish from time to time, and we made loose plans to marry when I got out. I say loose plans because when I broached the subject to her, her answer was curious; and I should have seen red flags then, but I was in heat; and all I could see were her tits and ass, and again, they were something to see.

"Jerry, there is no way I am going to believe that you aren't going to be dating as you travel the world, so I ain't wearin' no ring until I have you back and under wraps," she said. "And, I sure as hell am not going to be sitting around pining for you for any four years either. So, when you're here, we'll be exclusive, but when you're away feel free. I will."

I felt kinda put out by her attitude, but the logic of it was pretty good. I knew those foreign ports were going to be loaded with temptation, and she was essentially telling me to go for it. Of course on the other hand, she was also telling me that if the occasion arose she was probably going to let other guys pork her! One can imagine my state of mind.

Finally in the Navy and assigned, my younger sister, Donna, my mom, and my older sister Joyce moved to Alameda to be near me, and since I'd gotten a car while stationed there-my first-I let the family have it to go to school and do whatever they needed to do while I was at sea, which I often was. It worked well for us. It was about a year later that Donna graduated, and my mom and I were in the audience to see it. We were very proud of her.

During my service years, I saw Trish fairly often, for a travelin' man, maybe two or three times a year. We'd share our experiences, and she seemed to get off telling me about the other men that had made moves on her. She swore none had porked her, but I wasn't so sure. Nevertheless, either way I couldn't fault her: (a) I had fucked my way around the world, and (b) we weren't married or even officially engaged. So I just listened to her tales and lived with my jealousy.

After Donna's graduation, to finish a tale, we all went to mom's place and partied. I had asked Trish to come up from L.A if she could, but that I couldn't get away to come get her that trip. And, unbeknownst to me at the time, she had been at Donna's graduation; I just hadn't seen her. She showed up on my mom's doorstep now.

I answered the door. "Trish!"

"Glad to see me, big boy," she said.

"God, yes," I said. "Come in, come in.

"Everybody, this is my main squeeze, Trish Mendoza," I said. She was pleased that I was clearly so proud of her and glad to see her. ******

A year and half after Donna's graduation, I mustered out. I needed a job. I'd saved some money, actually quite a bit of money, and I would be good for a while; but a job was definitely my first order of business. I had moved back down the coast to East L.A. Trisha and I were once again exclusive and making plans that would come to fruition as soon as I could support us.

I knew machines, and I applied to several shops before being hired. I finally got the job because of my cussed persistence. That, as the man said, "We ain't hiring, but you've been bugging us so often that I have to hire you just to get you off our backs."

Trish and I were dating and I was being exclusive, and she said she was. I say she said she was, because I still had lingering doubts. At times I would call her, and her mom would say she was out and didn't know where to. But, always, the next day Trish would call and give me some plausible explanation. I believed her; I had to.

It was some time after this that I had gotten invited to a BYOB beer blast. I had tried to call Trish to get her to come along, but she wasn't home-again. The party was at a mutual friend's house, and I decided to go alone. I was miffed, but I knew the party would be good, and probably do a lot to cheer me up. I got there a little late. I had no more than church-keyed a beer than Trish showed up-on the arm of another guy. She didn't see me right away. But I saw her. And, I saw his hands which were all over her ass. I stood there staring. She finally saw me. "Jerry!"

I turned and headed out. I had brought a case of Coors with me, and hadn't even gotten to drink one can. Well, somebody else would I guess. I just wanted to go back to my place and feel sorry for myself. Jesus, the woman couldn't be trusted; and it killed me.

I haven't mentioned it, but I was shacking up in a small unused store room at the machine shop. There was a shower and a head and a rack, a bed, in it; and that was enough for me. The pay at the shop wasn't much, but staying at the shop and being a de facto security guard at night allowed me to save most of what I did make. I had even planned to formally ask Trish to marry me very soon. Well, those plans were now pretty much in the shitter, or so I thought.

****** Trish showed up at the shop the day after the BYOB disaster. I was on a break and having a cigarette out back when she arrived. I was sitting on an old crate that served as a bench for anybody taking a break out back. Trish had evidently been steered there by someone inside.

"Hi, Jerry," she said. "I guess you're mad at me, huh?"

I didn't say anything at first. I just looked her in the eye. "I guess exclusive doesn't mean exclusive to you, huh?" I said.

"Jerry, I'm sorry. Juan asked me to go before you did, and I just figured what the hell, and I went," she said. "It's you I love, not Juan. I didn't mean to hurt you, I really didn't."

"Yeah, well you did. So, whaddya want?" I said, about as mordantly as I have ever said anything.

"Forgiveness?" I could see she was nervous, even frightened.

"Okay, I forgive you," I said. "Anything else?"

"Huh?"

"I've gotta get back to work. What else do you want?" I said.

"Huh-well-I hoped-you know, that we could get back the way we were," she said.

"Oh, now that's a whole different kettle of fish," I said. "How can I trust you anymore? I mean you say we're exclusive and then you dump on me like that."

"I'd like a chance to make it up to you." she said. "Please?"

I looked at her. I made a decision. "I'll pick you up at seven tonight. Wear jeans and a heavy shirt," I said.

"Huh? Okay, if you say so," she said. "I love you." She came to me, kissed me lightly on the lips, touched my cheek with her finger tips, turned, and left.

Back inside the shop Barry Gilmore pulled me aside. "Hey man, Trish Mendoza, your girl?" he said.

"Yeah," I said, "what of it?"

"Hey man, I'm your friend, you know. Just letting you know. I knew her when. She likes variety man. Nobody can satisfy that girl. So, just be cool. Don't be rushin' into anything without thinkin' first, okay?" he said.

I nodded. If it hadn't been for me catchin' Trish with that guy the night before, I would have blown Barry off. But, now he got me to thinkin'."

****** I was right on time, seven. She was ready. We drove out to the coast and finally ended up on the pier at Malibu. There was a light fog that'd rolled in. It was quiet, just a few other guys with lines in the water. I wanted to set the mood, so naturally I took her fishin', right?

I baited the hooks while she just smiled the smile of a mermaid with another kind of fish, quarry, in her sights. We spoke little at first. Soon I had gotten a nibble or two, but she'd caught a fish. She was excited, but quiet about it-if jumping up and down while not saying anything can be considered quiet. "I got one," she said finally. I nodded and hugged her.

We fished a little more, and I moved closer to her. "Wanna marry me," I said not looking at her directly.

Still holding her rod, she turned to me. "Huh?"

I looked at her now. "Will you marry me?" I said.

She nodded yes, and then said it, "Yes. I was hoping you'd ask me, Jerry. I was so hoping. So, yes, I will marry you."

Now we both made noise, hugging and kissing and talking excitedly. We got a few looks from the other fishermen, but we were soon outta there, and on our way home.

We were married three months later. It was small ceremony, but a lively reception. My family was there, and hers. Some of my old friends from the Narods came. I guess we had a good fifty people milling around the church hall laughing it up that day. It seemed a good beginning.

A few days before the ceremony we'd moved into a small two-bedroom wood-frame in Pomona; this was before the big rise in real estate prices that was to come twenty years later. I used my GI bill to get into the place and all of a sudden I had a good job paying fifteen grand annual, we had twenty-thousand dollar mortgage, and a paid for six year-old, '62 Buick Wildcat. God! how I loved that car. It had air-con, leatherette upholstery, a great radio, and a quad fueling a 350 horsepower engine. That car was fuckin' wonderful!

****** Sex for us was good. We tried a lot of different things: role playing, BDSM-I was always the submissive one I could never be rough with a woman even in play-every imaginable position a woman could be fucked in, and even anal sex which last became an almost fetish for me.

I worked hard. I trusted my wife and lived by my rule #1: love and kindness are everything when it came to family. I may have been naïve, but it's what I believed. My wife and any future kids would not have to go through the hell my mom, my sisters, and I had had to endure. And at first my dreams seemed to have been fulfilled.

Trish and I had an active social life. We'd go out at least once or twice a month. We'd dance and drink, I had a personal limit of one or two drinks a night; I didn't want to end up the way my dad had. Anyway, we'd go out and fool around and generally have fun. It was good. Life was good.

We'd been married a couple of years and things had begun to settle down some. Our sex life hadn't died, but it had become a little bit routine. I sensed that Trish was not as satisfied as she had been in the early days. One night, I had gone to a local bistro after work. I had gone expecting Trish to join me within the hour. She hadn't, but her friend Penny did.

"Hi Jerry," she said.

"Penny? How are you doin'?' I said. "Long time no see."

"Good. You here alone? Where's your wife?" she said. She had the look of someone who already had the answers to her own questions.

"She'll be along. Said she had something to do first," I said.

"Penny just looked at me. Something to do?" she said.

Her tone had me interested. "Yeah, she'll be along." I looked at her and she looked away from me. "Penny?"

"Huh? Oh nothing," she said, sensing my meaning.

"Pennnnny!" I said. "What's going on? What are you not telling me?"

"Jerry, you're a good guy. Trish is my friend. I just can't-" She seemed at a loss for words.

"Penny, talk to me," I said, half hoping she wouldn't.

"Jerry, I don't want to see you hurt. You know-you know before you got together, Trish was dating the Deacon. You know him. I know you know him," she said.

I nodded, "Yeah, I know him, and he's history as far as she's concerned. A real asshole; treats women like dung." I said.

"No, Jerry, he's not history. He's with her right now. He's the something-read the someone who is doing her- that she had to do this afternoon," said Penny.

I was shocked but not shocked, if that makes any sense. We talked a little more, and then I thanked her and told her I'd see her around.

I was a typhoon of emotion. I knew Penny wasn't lying. I also knew I had to give Trish a chance to explain before I reacted. Didn't I?

I had a couple more beers; I was past my limit, when Trish finally showed up. She looked okay, maybe too good. She looked and smelled as though she'd just showered.

"Hi baby," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "You been drinking?" She meant I looked like I'd had more than usual.

I decided to gamble on the element of surprise. "Yeah, four or five already," I said. "How about you, you smell all showered and sexy. Was Deacon any good?"

Her shock was so total that she almost fell off her barstool. I would have laughed had I not been hurting so much inside.

"Wh-wh-wh-" she stammered.

"I guess he was," I said. I was acting calmly, but I was anything but calm. "Jerry-what? I mean what are you talking about? What about Deacon? I haven't… " She stopped talking. She could see she wasn't selling it.

"So what've we got, Trish? We got a marriage?" We got anything at all?" I said.

She was silent.

"Should I bother coming home?" I said. I got up and walked out. I didn't know where I was going, but I had to get out of there before the storm broke.

She covered her mouth to arrest the sobs that were starting to come. She raised a hand to try and stop me, but her heart wasn't in it. She knew she was caught.

****** I got me a motel room for the night. I hadn't decided to leave Trish; I just couldn't bring myself to listen to her. I'd see her tomorrow one way or another; but not tonight, I told myself. Well, it turned out that I'd told myself wrong.

The motel had a bar next door to it. I headed over there. I'll admit; I was pretty broken up. I started drinking way too much trying to drown my sorrow. It was around 11:00PM when a dark haired woman approached and made me an offer, but I wasn't even a little bit interested. The barkeep grabbed my keys at 2:00AM; he called a taxi for me.

I called in sick the next day. Trish called me at work several times. I didn't take the calls. She came by too, but I told Jeanie, our all-purpose, secretary, that under no circumstances was I ready to see her. Jeanie was 5'10" and a 175 pounds of steel-hard Amazon; Trish wasn't getting in, at least not until I was ready allow her in. I had rethought my going back to her immediately; I decided I needed more time. My main problem was I didn't know more time for what!

After that, I didn't see nor hear from Trish for about three weeks. I was sitting at my favorite hangout nursing a beer when she walked in. She sat down next to me and said we needed to talk.

"Look, Jerry, could we go out to the car for some privacy," she said.

We settled into the car and I started by asking the big question-why?

"Why did you do it, Trish," I said.

Not answering my question, she laid it on me. "Jerry, I missed my period. The child might be the Deacon's," she blurted.

I felt as though I'd been turned to stone. I couldn't move. Finally, I found my voice. "So, the night I saw you-it wasn't your first date with the asshole," I said.

"No. I should have told you before. But, I knew you were wanting to take those college courses and get into electronics and stuff. I didn't-couldn't-bring myself to tell you. I was frightened. I know what you can do when you're angry and…"

Call me a wimp, but I agreed to come home. I was there the next night.

At home she couldn't stop crying. Finally, I'd had enough. "Trish, whatever the kid is, whose ever it is; you'll be raising it; and, the fact is so will I. So, while I won't pretend to be happy about it, I mean if it's his, I will stay with you. Now, stop the endless caterwauling, please!"

She threw her arms around me and didn't stop kissing me for some minutes. She dragged me into the living room, pantsed me, and began sucking on a very hard member of our family. I shivered as I came; she swallowed it all. I collapsed onto the couch.

She cried some more and told me she loved me and only me. It was the right thing to say. But, trusting her was not really gonna happen: she was a fuckin' cheater by any definition of the term.

It was seven months later that the child arrived-still-born. We got on with our lives.

****** We didn't have the money, but we found a way and headed for the border. We hung out in Ensenada for a week, kind of a second honeymoon for us: we'd been married ten years. The sex was good, but not great. It was beginning to dawn on me that she was into sex all right, just not all that much with me. Oh, she needed me right enough, but not for what I needed her for. It really stung.

We still would have liked to have a baby, but because Trish had miscarried and had had so much trouble dealing with the aftermath; I got a vasectomy. I didn't need the headache, and I deep down I wasn't sure we'd last as a couple. She didn't fight on it.

Trish had gained a little weight during the pregnancy, but to me she was still a knockout. A knockout, but an all but frigid knockout, at least to me, and it was bothering me a lot. Sex once a month was not my idea of living. And then it began again.

After the miscarriage, Trish was depressed for a long time. We carried on. Life was boring and unfulfilling. It was 1985 when things began to go south.

The day came when she announced that she was getting a job. She didn't ask me, and it was clear that I would have no input into her decision. She went to work as a receptionist in a dentist's office. There were a half dozen girls working there part time, and they, the girls, were in the habit of stopping at Charlie's two or three nights a week after work for a drink.

After a couple of months of her stopping with her girlfriends on Friday, I showed up-unannounced. She was talking to handsome young stud muffin, a black guy. I came up to them and joined the party. She looked a little uncomfortable that first time, but we danced some and after a while I took her home.

Her routine began to vary. Instead of getting home around seven after her stop at Charlie's, it became 9:00, then 11:00. And, finally the day came when she arrived at 5:30AM smelling of sex and booze; the battle ensued. I was furious and damned near walked out. But, I didn't have cold, hard proof; and I wanted that before I left her.

I began stopping in at Charlie's on the sly. I wanted to see what was going on. The third time was the charm. She was dancing with a black guy and his hands were all over her. I watched for a while and then slipped out to the car. I would watch and follow her. I wasn't sure if anything would happen, but I was bettin' it would.

She finally came out around midnight hanging on the arm of the guy she'd been dancing with earlier. Evidently, at least for the night, they were an item. I followed them to a small wood-frame about a mile from the bar. They went into the house. I could see them silhouetted in the window. He drew her to him and they kissed. Then they sort of melted toward the floor or couch or whatever it was below them. I drove home.

She finally showed up at about 3:00AM. I pinned her right then and there. "And you were where?" I said.

"Out," she said. "I'm tired. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Yeah you were out at 1355 Calvert St." I said. "I saw you."

That stopped her for a minute. "You were spying on me?" She didn't seem especially upset.

"Damn straight," I said. "You fucked him didn't you."

"I checked myself, in his bathroom," she said. "I didn't have any of his mess in me."

I was stunned. She didn't even try to deny it, apologize for it, nothing! "Well, fuck you," I said. "If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me."

"Whatever," she said, as she plopped down on the bed and was asleep in less than a minute.

I went downstairs and paced back and forth for an hour. Finally, I headed for the den and booted the internet. Pulling up a dating site, I punched in my personal info, and went to bed. I'd check it in the morning. I'd never done it before, but it seemed like an easy way to cull the candidates.

Morning came, and I went down stairs. She had coffee brewing. I always made the coffee, but today she'd made it.

"Good morning," she said. She was clearly suffering from a serious hangover. Good, I thought. "Jerry, I'm sorry about last night."

"Sorry about what, Trish. Sorry about fucking another man or about telling me you did it and not giving a good goddamned if I liked it or not?" I said, sardonically.

"Jerry, I don't even know if I did fuck him. But, I guess, that isn't the point is it. I could have. I shouldn't have been with him."

"Damn straight," I said.

"Whaddya gonna do, Jerry?"

"I'm not sure, but one thing is for sure, I sure as hell ain't gonna be putting up with you putting out for other men!" I said, almost yelling. "I'm just glad we don't have any kids. I sure wouldn't want them finding out what a whore you are."

"Jesus! Jerry, I said I was sorry. Can't you just let it go! And, stop calling me names for Chrysakkes."

"Are you fucking crazy," I said. "No, I can't let it go. We're on the ropes, Trish. The next few days will tell the tale. And, I have no idea at the moment what the ending of that tale will be."

"You're making much more out of this than it is," she said. "I don't think…"

"No, you didn't think, and you don't. Thinking sure as hell ain't your strong suit. That's the problem. I have a heart and feelings and hopes and dreams too, and you are stomping all over them and I do not appreciate it, Trish."

"Jerry…"

"Ah fuck it," I said, and I stormed out. That was fifteen years ago. ****** The rain continued to fall. I was nursing the rig down the road. I was listenin' to that old song, Twenty-Four hours from Tulsa, I wish I was on my way to Tulsa now. Anywhere but home. Home to a wife, that even after all these years, still thought screwing around was a minor faux pas, a lapse in decorum. The rig wasn't mine or at this moment I'd turn the sonovabitch around and head for Tulsa and points east.

I'm bitter as I drive these days, I think about my life and wonder if anything I do is worth the internal turmoil that consumes me. What am I going to do. I'd protected her, fed her, loved her-actually adored her, most of my adult life; and where has it gotten me.

I have to make a decision, and I have to make it fast. I'm fifty-eight, and I ain't gettin' any younger. I sure as hell ain't gonna put up with any more of her crap. Either it's me, and we ride off into the sunset together; or it's not me, and I ride off into the sunset alone. And at the moment it's lookin' more and more like the latter.

I can see the yards of AST Ltd. up ahead. I'll pull in, log out, get a room and try to get some sleep before headin' back tomorrow. ******

I pulled the rig into home base and sighed; another day another dollar-ninety-five clear. How could I strand such prosperity, I thought bitterly."Hey Jerry," said the boss. "You're in late."

"Yeah, the rain. Figured you'd want me to get her without me killin' anybody," I said.

"So, you goin' to the party?" he said.

"What party," I said.

"Ron Greene's. Trish is there, I know," he said. "Went with Roger since you weren't handy. Said she wanted someone to drive in case she had a few too many."

This was news to me. She hadn't said anything about a party before I left; but then, neither had Ron. And with Roger? Roger was a kid-twenty-two if memory served. Well, I figured I'd just drive over to Ron's and see what was happening. I wondered if Trish would be thrilled to see me-or shocked. She couldn't know that the boss would clue me to the party. She wouldn't be expecting me. In spite of what the boss said, I had made good time coming back: I was actually a day early.

I could see Ron's house and a dozen cars parked around in the driveway and yard and on the street. A couple of guys were hanging out under the overhang smoking. I recognized Moe Weathers, and Cal Jackson, both drivers for the company. Though Moe did mostly long haul.

I parked and headed on up to the house. I waved to the two smokers. Cal gave me what looked like a worried stare. He nudged Moe, and the latter looked my way. I saw him mouth the words, "Oh shit." I was afraid I knew why.

Entering through the kitchen. The noise level, from the crowd of half a dozen or so bodies was loud until they spotted me; then, things quieted down several decibels. Clark Mason slipped out to the front room without acknowledging me-I noticed.

"Hi. Jenny," I said opening the fridge and grabbing one of the one hundred or so beers in it. I popped the cap, and tilted it back.

"Uh-oh-hi Jerry. I'm surprised to see you here. Trish said you were over-nighting in Fresno," said Jenny.

"I was, but I decided to just come on through. There wasn't much traffic. Boss told me about the party. Where's Trish?" I said.

Jenny just looked toward the front room. Her eyes didn't blink. I was getting as real bad feeling. I headed where she indicated. Just before turning the corner and going in, I heard a scream. It came from down the hall past the front room. I headed in the direction of the bedrooms. In the second room on the right I found my wife. She was naked and struggling with her jeans to fix that little embarrassment. And she wasn't the only one naked. Three guys were standing around her. I waited for her to see me.

She saw me and a look of absolute terror was reflected on her face. "Jerry, I can explain," she said.

"You can? I'd really like to hear that one, but I'm gonna be busy, I'm afraid," I said.

"Busy?"

"Yeah, moving out. You've fucked me over one too many times. I may be a cuckold, but I ain't no willing cuckold," I said. "So fuck you. Fuck all of you." I leaned against the door jamb and calmly finished my beer. I set the empty on the little shelf to my right, smiled, waved, and made a U-turn outta there. We were finished. She has turned out to be the cunt I'd always expected she was, and I wasn't sticking around to listen to more of her lies. I'd be on my way t Tulsa inside of three hours.

-----------------------------

   Series:Ulysses and Penelope Ward
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She's a cheater, he's introverted and long suffering, but talented. Can they make it long term?
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/74558/ulysses-and-penelope-ward
Published:2013-07-22
I'd heard the two of them talking about me. My heart was broken. Why she'd said those things about me I couldn't guess. She didn't need to be saying stuff like that. I'd never done her wrong-never. That was two days ago. I'd been in a blue funk ever since; she hadn't noticed; of course now I knew the reason she hadn't noticed: she'd had her own agenda. She was sitting across from me soft pedaling what it, her agenda.

"I'm sorry Uly, but it's the way it has to be. Time to get on with things," she said, and then she was gone. My Penelope was gone. Gone and I didn't really know why just that there was another man.

Nine years of marriage in the shitter. No kids at least; that was something. I had the condo; she'd said she didn't want it. She'd not wanted anything except for her share of the condo's equity. Well, and except for the condo, we didn't have much. Our cars, our personal stuff, some furniture, and that was about it. She asked me to send her half the equity when I could afford it. I'd said that I would.

Pen and I had met in college, dated off and on for three years, gotten engaged at a frat kegger, and married a month after our common graduation. Now, thirty-five years old and starting over. Well, it was what it was.

The divorce would be final in seven months. I swallowed hard and prepared to get on with things as she'd said. I took stock. At five-six and one-forty I was too damn small, but I was otherwise okay looking, I guess. My job at Wilcom Enterprises was a good one: I was sales rep for the southern district. Wilcom marketed, installed, and serviced electronic and computer products for several makers of such. Problem was that Pen worked for Wilcom too, different division, she was admin assistant to the company CEO, Brad Siefert.

Working for the same company meant that we'd still be seeing each other from time to time, and that was going to be hard for me. Worse, I'd no doubt be seeing her with him, Herbert Morgan. Herbert was the reason, evidently, that she'd left me. Herbert was HRO chief for Wilcom.

I'd sorta been wrong about seeing her at work. For a full two months after her laying it on me, I did not see her. Nor had I heard from or about her during that time.

The divorce still had a few months to go before being final. I spent my evenings mostly at home crying in my manhattans. Manhattans were good friends to have, very sympathetic actually. I appreciated that. But then I did, see her that is, and him.

It was a company honoraria. It was kind of a mandate to attend, so I did. Everyone was eating. I knew the band would be gearing up soon; they were already setting up on the dais raised for the purpose.

I was seated at a table of my coworkers on the sales force. My soon to be ex was across the room with good 'ole Herbert. They weren't necking or anything, but they were seated close to each other and quietly conversing and laughing at whatever during the affair. Mister Siefert went up to the mike and tested it.

"Okay, folks, this is where I get to say thanks to all of you for a job well done this quarter. And, I have some special thank yous for a few special ladies and gentlemen tonight as well," he said.

One by one, the top three performers from each of the company's four divisions went up to receive plaques and an envelope-presumably a bonus cheque for a job well done. And then it was the turn of the sales division.

And for the sales division number three is Ulysses Ward. I was surprised. I had not expected to get anything. I went up and got the usual short accolade and was handed a plaque and my winnings. The applause was polite. I glanced over at my wife; she was still that. She was smiling and applauding too. Her date did too after she nudged him.

The other winners followed, some photos were taken and we resumed our seats.

Awards made, the drinking and dancing began. This was where the rubber would meet the road. I watched her dance with him several times. I had no interest in asking anyone to dance, and I didn't. But I did drink, rather heavily. Mark Wilson, my bud from the materials division kept after me to make a move on some of the other females in attendance. He was joined by Hank Larabee and Quentin Cedar, installation guys.

"You oughta ask one of the gals to dance, Uly, said Quentin.

"Yes, you're divorcing, but you're not on your death bed," said Mark. "You're a good looking guy; you need to get started on the rest of your life," he said. Quentin was nodding his agreement.

"You know, you're right," I said. He smiled.

"Damn straight," said Mark. "I usually am." He laughed. I looked around to see which single gals might be willing to have mercy on me. I targeted two.

I got up and asked Ann Williams to dance. She turned me down, said she had a sore ankle. I nodded and went back to my table. A bit later I asked Meryl Childers to dance; she said maybe later. I guessed that my bud's assessment of my worthiness was not as accurate as he thought. At any rate, my ego sufficiently dented, I just decided to get really sloshed.

I was into my fourth manhattan when she came up to me. "Dance with me Uly," she said. She was so beautiful; I wanted to cry-again.

"No, Pen, wouldn't want to upset good 'ole Herbert. You don't owe me anything. Just go on back to your new man," I said. I don't think I sounded especially bitter, but I could have been wrong.

"Come on, Uly, we were married a long time. We can still be friends. Really," she said.

"No," I said. And I turned my back on her.

"Okay, if that's how it's going to be," she said. Then she did go back to him. I saw the two of them talking animatedly. Of course I didn't actually know what it was about, but it figured to be me.

Having seen her politely applauding me, and her essentially offering me a chance to salvage a bit of pride by asking me to dance with her, did something to my psyche. I made a decision. I'd sell the condo and get out of Dodge. I just couldn't bring myself to work in the same place as she did, my beautiful Penelope.

At work I was just going through the motions for the next three months. It was very difficult for me to concentrate. But then, finally, the condo sold. I sent her her half of the equity, $11,000. I took my half, and put it in a savings account at a new bank: I'd closed out my old accounts. The divorce was final two weeks after I sent her the cheque.

I showed up for the final decree. She was across the room from me-with him. She tendered me a smile; I didn't return it. She took on a questioning look I didn't quite understand. But it was what it was. I made the required declaration and she made hers. When I heard her, I started to cry; there was nothing for it; it was the saddest moment of my life. And then I quit my job. And when I did, I was summoned to the CEO's office for a sit down.

******

"Have a seat Uly," he said.

"Thank you, sir," I said. I took the proffered seat.

"So you've decided to quit. Sure it's the best thing for you? You've put in a lot of time and energy with the company," he said. I decided to be candid.

"Sir, I can't-"

"Your wife?" he said.

"Well, yes. I can't work where she does. Seeing her, well it's too much," I said. He nodded.

"Uly, Pen is a very good assistant. I treasure her skills. She actually came to me and offered to quit. She said she knew it might be hard for you working here with her; I mean with her divorcing you and all. I talked her out of it. I told her that you were a tough guy and could handle it. But, I guess I was wrong, huh," he said.

"Sir, with all due respect, and believe it, I do very much respect you; but me seeing her… I just can't do it. She's my life, and I mean she is still my life. There will never be anyone else for me. I have to leave town, start over, or try to," I said.

"Okay, Uly. I kinda felt that's what you'd say. Here, take this, maybe it will help you," he said. "Oh, and if you ever change your mind; well, we can always use a good rep, and you're one of the best. He handed me an envelope.

"Thank you, sir," I said. We said our goodbyes, and then I was gone.

******

I decided not to work sales anymore. Sales required a kind of focus that was only possible for someone whose personal life was stable. Emotional cripples like me could never really be any good at high end sales. I needed something mindless that took up all of my time and at the same time could pay me a living wage.

All Hallows Hamburgers-it had been founded on Halloween some years before-hired me as an assistant manager on the spot. My recommendation from mister Siefert had been in the envelope along with a personal severance check; it helped me there.

I was in my mid-thirties and pushing burgers for a living. I should say the job wasn't exactly chopped liver. True, I used to make upwards of 80K annual with bonuses, and that was now down to 40K, but when I made manager that would jump to a solid 60K and the benefit package wasn't too shabby; it was a statewide chain, was All Hallows. At any rate, I was getting by, just not like I used to.

What had actually sold me on the job were the outrageously long hours I'd be required to put in. Sixty and seventy hours a week were not uncommon, not uncommon at all. It's what I'd wanted. Something to take my mind off my wife, my ex-wife. And it did.

At any rate, between my job and my pal Old Overholt, my favorite rye whiskey, I was doing marginally okay. Of course, I had no social life, not with my schedule; but again, I hadn't wanted one. Had I wanted one I probably wouldn't have done all that well anyway. My whole situation kinda sucked.

I found myself wondering, and that almost every night, why my ex married me in the first place. Pen was a looker and social star. I, on the other hand, was a social cipher. I was a hard worker and a good provider. But there were other guys with my skills and who had as well social skills. But, she had chosen me. I guessed I would never know the answer to that question, but I sure would have liked to.

******

My fortieth was coming up. I had no family. I had no wife of course. A couple of casual friends I drank with on occasion were about it as far as anyone caring one way or another whether I lived or died. Which was okay with me because I didn't care.

I was hanging out at the Round Tree, sitting at the bar, when they came in. Talk about coincidences.

"Uly!" she said. I hadn't seen her until she addressed me. I turned around and there she was, the most beautiful woman in the world Penelope 'Morgan' with her husband standing right behind her. He was smiling and she was trying to.

I turned back to my drink trying and pretended she wasn't there.

"Uly? Please?" she said. I downed the drink, threw a ten on the bar and stalked out. I had not uttered a word to her. She said my name one more time as I distanced myself from them, but I kept on going. I was doing my best to not break down before I got out the door.

What I had not counted on was her determination to talk to me. She couldn't catch me, I was sure of that, but he could and did, no doubt under orders to do so from her. I was keying the lock on my car door when he pulled me back and away from it.

"What the… " I started.

"She wants to have a word with you, Ulysses. It won't kill you," said Herbert.

"Get out of my way. I need to get out of here. Okay!" I tried to get by him again, but he was too big and he held me back. I saw her coming out. I did it. I took a swing at him, and then I was feeling real good and it was dark and the beep-beep in the back ground was kinda soothing. I fell asleep and it was good.

******

I woke up at some ungodly hour. I think the clock read 3:00AM, but my vision was not real good, so I wasn't sure. I had to pee. I knew I was in the hospital. I also knew my rival, my victorious rival, had mopped up the parking lot with me and had put me there.

I'd been laid up in the hospital before. I knew the place. I knew where the bathroom was. I swung out of bed and hesitated before trying my legs out. I was dizzy, but otherwise not in much actual pain. Drugs I figured. Then, I saw her. She was curled up in a chair across the room. I made to sneak by her. I really had to pee. I made it inside the john and sat rather than stood to do my business. Now I had to do something.

I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't want her to tell me again how sorry she was for hurting me. I just wanted to be left alone. I decided to get my clothes: I knew where they'd be' there was a closet across from my bed. I figured they'd be in there. I'd dress quietly and get the hell outta there. But she short shanked me.

I opened the door to the head and she was standing right there waiting.

"Uly, please talk to me for a minute. Please!" she whispered. I ignored her and just went back to bed; ideas of dressing and getting out of there without her seeing me trashed.

I had long before determined that I was not ever going to speak with her again, not for any reason. Talking wasn't going to solve a damn thing and it was ten to one that I'd break down and humiliate myself more than I already had. No, there was no percentage in talking to her. She could go talk to the husband that she loved so much more than me.

"Uly, sooner or later you have to talk to me. But, I guess it's going to be later. I would have thought that five years would have softened your feelings about what I did to us. But, I guess not. I'll leave you alone for now. I guess I understand how you feel," she said. And, then she was gone.

She'd been right about one thing. Five years had not softened my feelings about how she'd done me, not at all. They, my feelings, were as raw now as they had been the day she cut the heart out of me. I had to think that that would never change.

I was released two days later. It turned out that mister Morgan had spent the night in jail before being bailed out, presumably by her. I had two missing teeth, a broken rib and a mild concussion. Oh, and he had a broken nose; I guess I'd connected with my one and only shot, but in truth I couldn't remember anything about it.

Not only had the asshole messed me up, but I'd had to pay for my teeth and my hospital expenses on my own. I toyed with the idea of suing the asshole. I decided not to file a complaint against him because I didn't want to be dealing with Penelope even indirectly; hence, I'd lied to the police told them that I'd started it. And, actually, I had thrown the first punch, so I guess it wasn't actually a lie. The price tag for not sticking it to him or at least trying to? Why four thousand dollars. And, it really rankled my having to pay it.

Back at work two weeks later, I buried myself in the doing of it. The good news? Why as every good student of the puritan work ethic knows, hard work will virtually always spell success. It had taken a while to get there, but I was no longer an assistant manager, or even a manager. No, I was now district supervisor for the chain. I was now earning a hundred grand annual with bonuses-yes, more than I ever did with Wilcom.

I had thirty four stores under my direct overseership. And, I was an overseer, and one with a figurative whip, a theory "X" manager for sure. I brooked no subpar efforts on the part of my crews. Penelope's betrayal had made me into a different person. I no longer cared very much for what anybody wanted or thought except my bosses: the chain's high command. And then I got a visit.

"Thanks for making time for me Uly," said mister Hughs.

"Absolutely," I said. "Anything I can do." I should note here that mister Rodney Hughs was company VP in charge of personnel.

"You've done well, Uly. You've been noticed at corporate. Anyway, to get right to it. The company is going nationwide. I know that you're not married and not otherwise involved. And, as a result, I am tempted to offer you an opportunity," he said.

"An opportunity?" I said.

"Yes, you'd be VP in charge of the Southwest region. A hundred and six stores are planned in New Mexico, Arizona, and Nevada. You'd be based in Phoenix. Your job would be to get the stores staffed and up and running.

"Sound like something you could get your head around?" he said.

"Damn straight," I said. We talked for quite a while. As he got up to leave, he paused.

"You haven't asked about your pay or benefits?" he said.

"Don't care," I said. "So long as I'm busy, really busy."

"You're a strange one you know that?" he said. "But for the record, you'll be making an estimated 250K annual with bonuses factored in. Oh, and you'll have a company car as you do now but with a driver added in. And oh yeah, I almost forgot; and a Lear Jet-45 to get you around faster."

"Jesus, that is something," I said, suitably impressed.

"Yes, yes it is," he said, smiling the smile of a man who'd finally made an impact.

I spent the rest of the day sitting at the Round Tree feeling a little down. I should've been sharing my success with her. But I wouldn't be, and not with anybody else either.

"Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down

'Twas sad as sad could be."

Coleridge's lines seemed a metaphor for my life. The divorce had surely taken the wind out of my emotional sails; and the sadness had so far not left me; indeed, it, the sadness, had only gotten more intense with every passing day. At least the Ancient Mariner had come out of it okay in the end; well, it was a qualified 'okay' right enough, but at least he had goals; me not so much.

I'd been given two years to get the stores up and running. I'd done it in nine months. I didn't make the $250K I'd expected; I'd made $500k. I'd made the money, but it had not made me happy, not close.

"I was called back for a major confab at corporate as soon as store number 106 opened for business. My jet had me back in a bit under five hours.

The reason for the big sit down? There were two. One: to get congratulated. Two: we were about to integrate a new computer system that would tie all six hundred stores coast to coast together. The system's supplier? Why Wilcom Industries. One had to love it.

"It'll be your job to get it done, Uly," said Rod Hughs. "You okay with that?"

"No problem, Rod, I used to work with Wilcom. Though that was a long time ago. They are the best at what they do; that much I can vouch for," I said. He nodded.

"You know, I didn't know you worked for Wilcom until your old bud Brad Siefert clued me," he said. "There's nothing about your previous employment with them in your file."

"At the time I wanted it that way, and Jim Huerter, the guy who hired me, went along. My ex is Brad's secretary. I didn't ever want to see or hear from her again. The pain, at the time was just too fresh."

"But now?" he said. "She's still Siefert's assistant. She will likely be with him."

"It was years ago, eight to be exact. I can handle it now. I can do the job," I said.

******

I'd told my boss that I could handle seeing her. It had been three years since I'd last seen her, and I'd run from her then. So now? Could I handle it? I determined to keep things on a professional level. If I had to talk to her directly about anything at all, I'd deal with it and at worst cry in my manhattans later.

All Hallows had a nice meeting room which had an adjunct kitchen that made it convenient to hold sit downs when we had large groups to deal with. I was early and sipping my post prandial caffeinated beverage while going over Wilcom's projected startup date.

The morning brunch had been pretty good. I'd eaten too much, but, I promised myself that I'd make up for my dietary sins after the Wilcom folks were gone; that figured to be in a couple of days if we could come to an agreement on installation dates.

She startled me. "Hello, Uly," she said. I kept it together.

"Hello, Penelope," I said.

"Got a minute?" she said. I couldn't immediately come up with a reason not to let her talk, so I just shrugged.

"Been a long time," she said. I didn't say not long enough, but I wanted to.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"I want to apologize, Uly, for the way I did you back then. I mean when I left you. It was cruel and abrupt and totally wrong of me. I'd like to ask you to forgive me if that's all right," she said. I shrugged again.

"Yeah, sure. Forget it," I said. My tone, my voice, was flat, not conciliatory at all. She picked up on it.

"Uly, really, if I may; you need to get over me. I wasn't worth it then, and I'm not worth it now. Hell, you are well rid of me. If I had to to do over again, I would," she said.

"What over again, Penelope? You'd be nicer in destroying me? Is that what you'd do over?" I said.

"No, I wouldn't divorce you, Uly. That's what I meant, not just try to let you down easier, not at all," she said.

"Why, you and good 'ole back stabbing Herbert having problems?" I said.

"Herbert? He and I divorced two years ago. I guess you had no way of knowing," she said.

"No, I've just been working and trying to forget how you and him ruined me," I said. "So no, I never heard you and him had broken up." She was looking down and kinda nodding her understanding of my words.

"So you got a significant other by now, I'm sure," she said.

She was fishing; and I knew it, but I didn't care, so I told her. "No, still single-o. Hasn't been anybody since you. No dates, no partying, nothing. I don't need the heartache," I said.

"No one?" she said.

"No, but been too busy working anyway," I said.

"Yes, mister Siefert told me how well you were doing. I guess you're pretty far up the economic food chain," she said. I shrugged again.

"I guess," I said.

"You said no dates. You mean none in eight years?" she said. I just kept silent. No time to embarrass myself.

"She repeated herself, sort of. "Uly? You mean no…," she didn't finish.

"No interest in women or dating or any of it," I said. "Like I said, I've been too busy to fool with that stuff." She slumped back in her seat.

"Oh my God!

"Uly, could I ask you for a favor?" she said.

"You can ask," I said.

"Since Herbert and I broke up, well, there've been men, quite a few actually; I do have needs, but, none worth remembering. I was wondering, you know, I mean, well, if you'd… " she faded out.

"If I'd what?" I said.

"You know, like to go out with me sometime. Like maybe even while I'm here," she said. She'd stopped me. I'd made myself a promise to be strictly professional while she was around. No fraternizing.

"But-you dumped me, Pen. I mean why would you want to go out with me? A thousand guys out there-fulfilling your needs. What good could I possibly be to you? When you said that I didn't measure up…"

"Ulysses Ward! I never, never said anything like that to you," she said.

"No, you're right; I misspoke. You said it to Herbert a couple of days before you gave me the door," I said.

"As I recall, you said I was about useless in bed, that my dick was good for peeing and damn little else, that you had a hard time faking interest when we did do it. And, I wasn't much of a provider. That last one really hurt, I gotta tell yuh.

Kinda hard to imagine after all of that that you'd be interested in dating me," I said. Her face had gone pale.

"Uly? You were there?" she said.

"Yes. Across the hall. I'd had a toothache and had gone to the dentist. I came home early."

"Oh my God! No wonder you've refused to talk to me. Oh, my Uly, I am so sorry. I am so damn sorry," she said.

"Forget it. It was too long ago. But, to answer your question. No, I don't' think a date with you would be a good idea. I think that we need to keep things on a purely professional level. She looked stricken.

"Okay, Uly. I understand," she said.

"I doubt it," I said, "I sincerely doubt it."

"Well, damn you then, Uly. And, for the record, I do understand; well, I do now, and you saying different doesn't make what you say so," she said.

"Yeah, whatever, but you really don't have any idea how bad it's been for me, Penelope 'Morgan.' Not a clue. But, just so there'll be no big assed doubt in your mind.

"Since you destroyed me I've been unable to have any kind of relationship with any woman on a close or emotional level. I've had no sex, since you dumped me, not even a romantic kiss at Christmas time under the mistletoe. I have a couple of drinking buddies, but no one has ever been invited to my place for a barbecue or for anything else, nor have I been invited to anyone else's place.

"Are you getting the picture here, Penelope 'Morgan'?" I said, and that not at all kindly. "I died the day you ended us. It's just a technicality that I'm still breathing."

"Jesus! Uly, you're serious. I guess I didn't understand, but, maybe I do now.

"Uly, since you won't take me out. How about a compromise," she said.

A compromise?" I said. "What are you talking about?"

"Yes, you let me take you out," she said. I gave her a look that had to have shaken her, but then I had a thought. Why shouldn't I go out with her? Maybe I could get a piece of ass out of it. My first in years. I mean she was apparently a whore for a bus load of other guys. Why not me?

She must've been reading my mind. "If you pay for the drinks at dinner," she said, "I'll let you fuck me. Deal?" I nodded, but I didn't smile.

"Okay, deal," I said. She smiled. "We're at the Grissom Motor Lodge. How about seven. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I said. "Seven it is."

******

The day's meetings had gone well, and Mr. Hughs was feeling good enough to send the team home early. We'd do the post mortem later.

I was right on time. She looked happy that I was, and, she looked like a million bucks.

"You look good," I said.

"You too," she said.

"So, where are we going," I said. We were taking her rented Ford sedan. "Well, she was taking me out not the other way 'round.

"McDonald's," she said. "You know, Scottish cuisine." I snickered.

"Good, I like their chicken McNuggets. Can I get the ten count?" I said, deadpanning.

"Sure bet. No limits tonight," she said.

We pulled into the Saddle Back Lodge fifteen minutes later. She smiled. I frowned.

"I knew you were kidding about Mac's, but this place is going to set you back," I said. "And, the truth is I would have been okay with Mac's."

"Right, and the sun will rise in the west tomorrow," she said. "No, I chose this place because they have your favorite booze." I looked her askance.

"Rye?" I said.

"Yes," she said. Now, I did smile. Rye was hard to get except in the big town. It's the only whiskey I drank neat. Sometimes it seemed like nobody'd ever heard of it outside of the big city; and even then it was only me and Humphrey Bogart who ever ordered it. Anyway, I'd be getting' it tonight.

We were just in time to have to wait thirty minutes for a table, but there were seats at the bar; we commandeered two of them and ordered; well, she ordered.

"Rye neat and a white wine," she said. The guy nodded and went off to do her bidding.

Drinks in front of us, she made to engage us in light conversation. I kept playing back in my mind her words of the day before, that she had been divorced for the past two years from the asshole, and, that she would like to have back her decision to divorce me. Why was the big question. I asked.

We were still at the bar. "Pen, I'm not sure why we're even here tonight. You've apologized. I've said fine, to just forget it. But, you seem to want to talk more. You say I can have you tonight; and, the hairy assed truth is I sure do need it. But, I am more than sure that you don't need me for sex. You've made that plain enough before. So why?" I said.

Just then the waitress came and dragged us off to our table in the back; we took our drinks with us. We were plied with menus, given our waters, and the mandatory drink list. We studied the gastronomic literature, made our choices and waited to be noticed by the waitress once again. I could see Pen almost sigh with relief at the delay. I expect she felt the need for the time to get her thoughts arranged for effect, or, maybe maximum damage control.

The food came twin plates of prime rib. We ate. She lifted her glass. "A toast," she said, "to us." I looked her askance, but I raised my glass and we clinked.

"So?" I said.

"So?" she said.

"Why? Why did you dump me those many years ago?" I said. "I knew you had your new man, but why did you want him instead of me?"

She placed her hands on either side of her plate, looked down, looked up, and spoke. "I know, Uly, that you probably think you want to hear the reasons that I had then. But, if you will allow, they are and were even then actually all but utterly meaningless; and, if it matters an iota also untrue even then.

"So, if you press me, I will tell you; but, I really really would rather let sleeping dogs lie," she said, "and get on with trying to rebuild our-friendship-with each other. Whaddya say?"

"Pen, no. I need to know. And, I need the unadorned truth. Please, do not treat me like some little kid that needs coddling. The hurt has diminished over the years, and I think I can handle whatever it was now," I said. She sighed.

"Okay then

. I thought, well, I thought Herbert was a better lover than you. I hasten to add that as time went on I began to realize that the grass on the other side of the fence was not as green as I thought," she said.

"Why did you think he would be a better lover? The only way that could have come up was if you'd sampled him," I said.

"I had. A few times actually. His dick is king sized. He got me off almost every time he did me. You-well-you almost never did. Hence my erroneous belief," she said.

"Why erroneous. You just got done telling me he got you off regularly and me not at all. Sounds like he was a lot better than me. I mean isn't that just what you just got done saying," I said.

"Yes and no," she said. "If all a woman wanted was to cum, he was the man. If a woman wanted to feel completed, is the way I'd characterize it, he was almost totally valueless. In the cold afterglow of the act, he left me feeling empty, certainly not loved."

"Hmm," I said, meaning I didn't know what.

"You on the other hand always left me feeling completed, and loved, and safe, and trusted. I was untrustworthy of course, and I treated you like shit, and I do penance every single day of my life for that," she said.

"I would give my left tit to have you back again. And before you think it, if you haven't already, it's not at all because of your current wealth. I need you to hold me in your arms and kiss me and love me and make me feel safe again. All of those of course after you give me the really spirited spanking that I so richly deserve."

"Hmm," I said.

"One thing, Uly. Please start speaking in whole sentences. Please," she said, smiling.

"Uh-yes-okay. Whole sentences.

"The food is good tonight," I said.

"Ulllyyyy!"

"I don't know, Pen. I want you back. But, as you pointed out kinda indirectly, there's the little matter of trust. I couldn't bear getting screwed over or dumped again-or-cheated on. I need to be treated with respect and loved and all of that by a one man woman. You said you've been screwing the neighborhood until now.

"Let me ask you, did you cheat on Herbert?" I said. She looked down. She sighed again.

"Yes. Like I say, he wasn't you; so, after a while; I started looking for another you. Never found him, but I did look. So, yes, I did cheat on Herbert," she said. I nodded.

"Thank you for your honesty. May I ask you another question?" I said.

"Okay," she said.

"If we started, say, going together again, would you cheat on me?" She gave me a frustrated look.

"I don't think so," she said.

"But, you're not sure," I said. "Some handsome stud approaches you in the market and you let him do you, certain that I would never find out. Have I got it right?"

"I don't think so, but maybe," she said.

"Can't fault your honesty. I'm actually grateful to you for that," I said.

"Let me ask you one more question, okay?" I said. She nodded.

"If you did cheat on me, would you tell me?" I said.

"I think so. Yes," she said. "I would-yes. I will never hurt you again, or if I did I would do my level best to make it right by you." I nodded. "No lies, and that's for sure?"

"No lies," she affirmed.

The conversation went silent. Me trying to figure out what I should do, and her-probably-holding her breath to see what I would do.

I downed my drink. "Let's get out of here," I said.

******

I took her to my place; it took us four hours to get there-at 350 miles per hour. I'd been living in a rented Condo in Phoenix for the past year. I decided to impress her. We'd overnight it in Phoenix; I'd fuck her, and I'd show her one or two of our stores too.

"Jesus, Uly, you really are something else anymore aren't you," she said.

"It's a company plane. The pilot's my employee, as is the plane's mechanic," I said. I'd momentarily left her speechless. She took on a suspicious look.

"You gonna fuck me and dump me, Uly? I mean I know I deserve it, but… " she said.

"Dump you? How can I dump you when I don't possess you anymore. As for fucking you, well, I did buy the drinks," I said. She smirked.

She took a different tack. "Uly? "Do you want to possess me?" she said. Just then the pilot announced over the loudspeaker that we were coming in for a landing and that we should buckle up.

"Don't know Pen. I honestly don't know. The things you said about me…"

"I'm never going to live those down am I?" she said.

"You! How about me?" I said. She nodded.

"Yes. I guess that must be a hard thing for you. We need to talk some more about it, but tonight I need your-well-hard thing," she said.

I knew she was lying. She didn't actually need my hard thing. She was going to use it right enough, but need it or really want it? No, not real likely. I suppose the upside was that I was very likely going to get her "A" game. Money will get a guy almost anything. The more I thought about it the less I wanted to do her. She had an agenda; one I was not gonna be real happy about; I was sure of it.

I had gone pensive on her as we landed. She noticed. "Are we okay, Uly? I mean for today. You're looking kinda out of it."

"Actually, not sure," I said. Her turn to go pensive on me. I'd called my driver before we landed; he was waiting for us.

The drive over to the condo was a quiet one. I think she knew that a lot of nothing talk would be counterproductive.

Did I know what I was doing? Not really. I guessed I'd get my rocks off finally, but beyond that, no, I didn't know what I was going to do, or even thinking if it came to that.

******

She headed to the bathroom as soon as we'd doffed our coats. I made for the minibar and poured us a couple of drinks. I needed one even if she didn't.

She emerged from the ladies room naked except for her shoes and panties.

"Jesus!" I said. "You're fucking beautiful."

"Glad you think so stud. Tonight it's all for you. Anything you want.

"I need you, Uly. Believe it. Take me, and do a good job of it; and then, take me again. Okay?" I nodded, very slowly. I wasn't exactly mesmerized, but I sure as well was something. I'd figure out what later.

She came to me and my hand reached for her breast. I very gently massaged it. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her or upset her.

I let both of my arms slide up and down her sides. She seemed to be enjoying my attention. I let my hand cup her pussy through the material of her panties. She sucked a breath from the sensation.

I went to my knees and pulled her panties down and just stared at her beauty. I leaned in and kissed her slit. It was wonderful. She now went to her knees. We stared into each other's eyes.

She let herself slip to the floor. She spread her legs wide for me. I shucked my clothes very very fast. I even popped two buttons on my shirt in my hurry to get to her. She giggled.

"Do not be gentle, big guy. Just do me. Make the first one hard and fast. We'll take our time on the next go 'round." I followed her command. I drilled her like I'd never drilled any woman including her.

She squealed and began frothing at the mouth as I pounded into her. I managed to last maybe three minutes before I stiffened and unloaded a quart of spunk inside of her.

"That was pretty good for a first go," she said. "Let me see if I can encourage you for an encore. She did encourage me and a blow job that skilled only comes with a whole lot of practice; a fact, that in fact, made me realize that I was getting a mercy fuck all right, but one of superior quality.

She rolled over on her belly and spread for me once more. I would be taking her from behind. I poked at her and she helped me a little to gain a lodgement. Once inside of her I did the push-pull thing until I hit bottom and began screwing her slowly and deliberately. She mooed and began breathing irregularly. I felt her stiffen and try to push her butt up to meet my thrusts I could feel her squirting; she'd made it. I felt good about that.

She lay gasping, the both of us. We napped.

She awoke before me and got us something to eat from the frig. We'd go out a little later, but the tuna sandwiches were welcome.

We talked a little about nothing, but at one point she did bring up the companies negotiations. I became a little uncomfortable with that. We were on opposite sides of the table. But she let it go with a comment about how important the contract was to Wilcom. My only comment was to the effect that we were glad that they could do the job for us.

******

We had two days before we had to be back for the final sit down with my old company.

She and I used them to get to know each other again and to drain my seminal fluids totally dry which I damn well did. Penelope was at pains to make sure that I was happy.

She also made sure that I understood about her breakup with good 'ole Herbert-who 'still worked where she did. She admitted that it was because he'd caught her cheating on him. One of the very few times by the way or so she said. Her candidness was welcome, but the fact was, she was still a cheater; and I had to think always would be.

Okay, with our history I was concerned that she would get the itch again if indeed we did go for the second time around. I think she sensed my concerns too, but it didn't come up during our two days together.

After flying back, I had my driver had the drop her at her hotel while I went back to mine. At her request we'd agreed to keep our two day liaison on the QT for the time being. She said that she didn't think that Brad would approve of her fucking someone from the other team while no final decisions had yet been made as to costs and schedules.

Wilcom was the only company in the region that had the resume to do the job we wanted. If we farmed out the job to others we'd have to have been dealing with at least three different subcontractors, always a problem. Mister Siefert wanted our business, in fact, I judged that he needed our business. Mister Hughs, our chief negotiator had been holding Wilcom's feet to the fire about start up dates and overrun costs and penalties.

I was shuffling papers in my office adjacent to the conference room when she stuck her head in.

"Hi, honey," she said. "Got a minute?" I looked up. She was dressed for business. Mister Siefert's number on aide. And yes, I caught the 'honey' she'd proffered me.

"Sure," I said. "But not much more than that."

"Mister Siefert asked if he could speak with you before the big sit down," she said. It was an odd request since we would be on opposite sides of the fence during the negotiations. And, odd especially since mister Hughs would be looking to me to make the actual decision as to whether the Wilcom proposal was acceptable. The difference so far in our respective positions was significant. But, I was pretty sure that Penelope was not trying to influence me to do something untoward in respect to my company. But, at any rate, I politely declined her request.

Even if it was nothing untoward, it would appear unethical to anyone who witnessed me with him. I trusted Brad Siefert. He'd always been good to me. But, talk to him before a major negotiation on money-big money. Couldn't do it.

Penelope understood. Said she had to ask even though she knew the answer. She gave me a kiss on the cheek. I didn't see the guy behind the potted plant snapping pictures.

******

The negotiations had gone on for a good two hours. My boss called a half hour break. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief. I had to pee. Just as I was about to turn the corner to head down the hall to the little boys room, I heard them talking.

"So whaddya think," said Brad Siefert.

"He won't sell out his boss or the company, but he'll likely do a better by us than he has with some of the other vendors we've talked to. It's the best we can get out of the little shit," said Penelope Morgan.

My ex-boss laughed. Philips got the picture of you kissing him. That and your audio of the two of you fucking and sucking should be enough if he tries to play hardball with us. So, do you think you can milk him, and I don't mean his ball sack," said Brad.

"Yes. I have him by the short hairs. He'll do whatever I say, now. Letting him get off was the key. It was all I could do to keep a straight face while he was fucking me. He is so fucking inept. But, again, in his defense, he hasn't had much practice over these past many years," said Penelope, the two of them laughed.

"Pen, I have it on good authority that All Hallows will be expanding to two thousand stores in the next few years. I want that business," said Brad. "You're going to be an integral part of the campaign to bring them around. I need you, babe, catering to his physical needs," said Siefert.

"And, I need your eight inch dick," she said. "Oh, and the bonus you promised me."

"You get wimpy to come around, and I'll double what you're going to get this time around," he said.

"I like the way you think," she said.

They were laughing, but I was smiling. Peeing would have to wait. I suddenly had a meeting with my boss.

******

"Really," said Rod Hughs, having heard my verbal essay.

"Yes," I said.

"And you think you can get those employees back at Wilcom to follow your lead?" he said.

"Yes. I'm pretty sure. We can offer them the kind of autonomy and rewards that Wilcom isn't in a position to counter," I said, "at least not in anything like the near future."

"Well, we still need to get the materials from them and get it all installed this time around. But, once it's in, we'll look into pirating those guys and cut Siefert and his outta the mix.

"I must say, I'm surprised that you are being so ruthless in your pursuit of this stuff. I would have thought that with your ex in the mix that, well, you might have been planning on going a little easier on them than otherwise," he said.

I harrumphed a snicker. "I work for All Hallows, not Wilcom. Plus, I happened to come into some information that kinda lent a negative cast to my attachment to my old employers. They were planning on using me, or more accurately my feelings for my ex-wife, to leverage an unfair long-term advantage in their favor. I suspect that they were going to actually blackmail me.

"They'd still have done the job, and doubtless a good one, but economically we might have been in for a serious screwing over. That ain't gonna happen, not on my watch," I said. Mister Hughs smiled, nodded, and we made to get back to the meeting.

******

"So, Mr. Siefert," said Rodney Hughs, we are agreed then on both scheduling and costs, overruns."

"We are," he said. "We thank you and your staff of being so flexible."

My boss looked over at me. "Any final words, Uly," said Mr. Hughs.

"No, no, it all looks fine form here," I said. I tendered Penelope a smile; she returned it, but I thought it a little forced.

"Then, we are adjourned," said Mr. Hughs.

We milled around for a few minutes sipping our waters and saying all of the right things. I got the high sign from Pen. The treacherous bitch wanted to speak with me. I accommodated her.

"So, whaddya think, Uly?" she said.

"About?" I said.

"Us, of course," she said.

"Not yet, Pen. Too much to get around for a decision like that to be put together on short notice," I said. She nodded.

"Okay. But, if you get to town…"

"I'll give you a heads up," I said. Her turn to nod.

"Okay, but I miss you," she said.

"It's been eight years, Pen. Don't seem like there's much of a hurry," I said.

"Okay, okay. Anyway, be well," she said. Then, she kissed me on the cheek, turned and headed out

She seemed so damn sincere. If I hadn't heard dissing me, I would not have been thinking the thoughts I was in fact thinking.

Except for the mandated holiday cards and a call on my birthday, I didn't see or hear from Penelope Morgan for another year. Then, I did.

******

I was sitting in my Phoenix office finishing up a contract submission to be sent to main office. Phyllis, my secretary, buzzed me.

"Got a visitor Mr. Ward," she said.

"Send him in," I said. The door opened and she didn't quite storm in. She plopped down in the chair across from me.

I was caught figuratively with my pants down.

"Hear All Hallows has a whole bunch of new stores on the drawing board," she said without so much as a hello.

"And, hello to you too Mrs. Morgan," I said.

"Yes, hello, Mr. Ward. Sorry, it's been a heckuva morning. Please forgive my curtness," she said. I nodded my willingness to be magnanimous.

"So, and how have you and Mr. Siefert been?" I said. I knew that I had a slight smile on my face.

"Huh?" she said. "Uh-Mr. Siefert is fine. I'm fine," she said.

"Good, good," I said. "So what brings you a fifteen hundred miles away from your home base to burst in here without so much as a hello" I said. She deflated.

"I am sorry, Uly. Like I said, it's been a heckuva morning. I guess I kinda lost it-not because of you-but because of other stuff," she said.

"Okay. Anything I can help you with?" I said.

"Actually, yes," she said. The fact is you're the only one who can help me," she said. She'd surprised me.

"Really," I said. "Pray tell." She gave me a look. I was being a trifle flippant and she was clearly having trouble reading me.

"Uly, did I do something wrong here?" she said. "I mean my entrance of course, but…"

"No, no. Continue," I said. I was still vaguely smiling.

"Uly, I'm going to give it to you straight. I'm on the verge of getting fired," she said. Her eyes were misting up. This was interesting.

"Fired? Why? You've been with Siefert forever," said.

"Last year you, well, All Hallows, signed with us to install our software wiring, in all of your then stores, into a common network among other things. Everything was done, and mostly on time, i.e., a very small amount went over schedule," she said.

"Yes, that's so," I said. "So?"

"So why has Wilcom been cut out of the mix now?" she said "Brad is blaming me for screwing up the deal. But, I didn't, Uly. I have done everything he said to do. Now, if I can't get you-I know you're the decision maker here-to let us in on the rest of your stores… " she went silent.

"I see. If you can't convince me to keep on keepin' on with Wilcom, your boss will terminate you. That about it?' I said.

"I'll do anything Uly, really," she said. She stood, took a few steps back and began stripping. She hadn't even locked the door. I sat their opened mouth when her last stitch pooled at her feet.

She stood looking at me forlorn and vulnerable. Hands at her naked sides, her eyes implored me to take her and save her. Clearly this was her, as she saw it, last salvo.

"Put your clothes back on, Pen, and take a seat," I said.

"Pen, I know you think that this 'little shit,' me, isn't worth a damn sexually. I know it, and you've said it, and having sex with you is never going to happen for me again. Mores the pity, you are the best as far as I'm concerned," I said.

"You're wrong Uly. I love having sex with you, really," she said.

"It's all you can do to keep from laughing at me when we've done it, Pen, kinda of a killer for the old ego," I said.

"Uly, I never said you anything like that to you or about you," she said.

"You're a liar, Pen. Last year, between the negotiations meetings. I heard you talking to Siefert. You said exactly those words to him. Very similar to the ones you said long ago to Herbert. It hurt me, Pen. I've never done anything to you or to him, but you felt the need to talk some pretty cold smack about me to each other." She paled.

"You… " she started.

"Yes, I was just around the corner from where you were plotting to screw All Hallows over in the negotiations.

"For the record it was him and his attitude that is the reason for us not going with Wilcom in the future," I said.

She suddenly morphed from tragedy to high interest-suspicion. "Uly? Did three of our best people quitting this past month have anything to do with your decision to go in a different direction now," she said. I just stared at her.

"I see," she said.

"I doubt it," I said.

She ignored my words. "Getting' a lot of pussy these days, Uly?" She was fishing. I just stared at her.

"Uly, you can have me anytime. I know a man has needs, desperate needs. And, I know you have to be desperate," she said.

"How would you know that, Pen?" I said.

She squirmed a little in her seat. I guess she decided to be up front with me. "I checked up on you, Uly. The private dick I hired found out some stuff," she said.

I know my face had to have clouded over. "You weren't in danger of being fired were you, Pen?" I said. She sank back in her chair. "You're Siefert's attack dog aren't you?"

She looked away. "We need the account, Uly. Wilcom has fallen on hard times. We could go under if we don't pick up a couple of majors soon," she said.

"Not my problem, Pen," I said. "And for the record, I really take exception to being spied on; well, you can imagine." She stood as I returned to the signings I had to be getting off to main office.

She stopped at the door, turned and looked at me. "No, I wasn't in danger of being fired, Uly. But, I may be in danger of being unemployed if Wilcom goes under. Any chance you'll hire me?"

I had to admire her brass. "I'll consider your application if and when that happens, Pen. Now, if you'll excuse me," I said.

******

Six months later there was an article in Forbes, page thirteen. Wilcom had gone under and the CEO had been arrested for misappropriation of funds. Big surprise, I thought. I wondered if indeed she'd apply for a job with me. I also wondered if she might not be arrested. She worked awfully closely with Siefert.

I got my answer to my musings two months later.

******

I was in the my office at the main office for a meeting with other members of the high command.

"Got a minute, Uly," said Rodney Hughs as I was exiting the conference room.

"For the boss? I don't know, I suppose I could spare a moment or two," I said. He laughed.

"Got an application this morning," he said.

"An application?" I said.

"Yes, for employment. The resume looks good," he said. He wasn't smiling. I was betting I knew who it was. I was right.

"Really," I said.

"Yes, Your ex. She needs a job. You want me to hire her?" he said. I caught myself nodding.

"She wants to work with who?" I said.

"Me?" he said. "I'm inclined to hire her, but not if you're against it. She'd be a good assistant, but you're about a hundred and forty times more valuable than she would be. Ergo, I'm here asking for your imprimatur."

"Rod, could you send her around to me. I want her to know that if we hire it's because, at least in part, because I'm okay with it. Would that be all right?' I said.

"Just what I had in mind," he said, smiling.

"For the record, what is she looking for in terms of salary? I mean if I may be so bold as to ask," I said.

"Fifty?" he said.

"She was making eighty at Wilcom," I said.

"Yeah, but she's in a beggars can't be choosers situation right now. Some of Siefert's dirt rubbed off on her I guess," he said.

"She's worth eighty," I said. "I mean if we can ensure her loyalty." He nodded.

"You can offer her eighty if you want, Uly. Kinda make her beholding to you. I mean even though she'll be working for me."

"Yeah, it would, wouldn't it. But, no, you need to do the offering. But, I do want to talk to her before you take the plunge if that's all right," I said.

"It is," he said.

******

I was in payroll signing some trip reports for some of my direct employees.

"Mister Ward," said a voice I will never forget.

"Hello, Mrs. Morgan," I said, not looking up.

"Mister Hughs said you wanted to speak with me," she said. Now, I looked up.

"Why don't know you go up to my office and wait. Phyllis is expecting you," I said. "I'll be up in a few."

******

I was twenty minutes getting upstairs. I could have gone up sooner, but I needed a cup of coffee, and Nadine Crisostomo was thrilled to share one with me. Oh, and I with her. Oh and Nadine? A recent hire of mine that I was training in quality control my way. Oh, and yes we'd been dating. A workplace romance? Yes, and I was high enough up the chain of command-I was one of four VPs-to make me Teflon in that respect.

"So you're going to hire your ex?" said Nadine.

"No, The big boss is; but I could veto it if I wanted to. But, no, Rod will do the hiring if anyone's going to." I said.

"The rumor is she was involved in the scandal at Wilcom. May have profited from her boss' greed," said Nadine.

"Maybe indirectly. I know her. She didn't take any bribes per se. But, her asshole boss probably did fund her trips and whatnot," I said.

"Hear he's doing a dime for his crimes," said Nadine. "He'll be out in six probably," said Nadine.

"That's what I hear," I said.

"Well, you better get up there and lay down the law," said Nadine. "Don't be too long. We have reservation at Corbulo's," she said.

We parted, and I headed upstairs.

******

I walked right past her and into my office. She gave me a questioning look that I caught.

I got on the intercom. "Phyllis, please send in Mrs. Morgan," I said. She was very pretty.

"You wanted to see me?" said my ex-wife.

"Hear you applied," I said, ignoring her remark. "Have a seat."

"Yes, but here not in Phoenix. I know you don't want me there," she said.

"I never said that, Pen, but this is your home. If we hire you, you should stay here," I said.

"I take it that it's up to you," she said.

"We won't be seeing each other much, and that's a good thing, Penelope. I still have feelings for you in spite of all of the put downs and hurts you piled on me in earlier days," I said.

"I'm sorry about all of that, Uly, truly. Whether you hire me or not, I did want to say that to you yet again," she said. I nodded.

"Apology accepted," I said.

"Uly, anytime you need something… " I smirked.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said. She looked dubious.

"No expiration date," she said.

"I have a new squeeze, Pen. Don't know where it'll go yet, but… well, I'm hopeful," I said.

"That's good, Uly. I'm happy for you," she said. I nodded.

"Pen, may I ask, you and Siefert?" I said.

"He's in prison, Uly. I know you know that," she said.

"Yes, and one day he'll be getting out. So…"

"I don't know. Maybe," she said. "We did have a thing. But ten years… " She was starting cry.

"He won't be in there that long," I said, trying to comfort her.

"Huh?" she said.

"Good behavior, a little luck: it could be more like half of that," I said.

"Really?" she said.

"Really," I said.

I didn't tell her, but I had an in and some political clout. I might use it to get her true love out a bit earlier than not if the asshole made restitution and did a million hours of community service. Even though Siefert had become something of a champion asshole in these past few years; I saw that as a function of his company's bad luck. There had been good relations between him and me when I was at Wilcom. That still counted for something.

******

My romance with Nadine became pretty heated over the next year or so. So much so that I was thinking about making the big move.

And Siefert. He was out in four years. I had it on good authority, Pen herself, that the two of them were going to tie the knot. The supreme irony? Pen was working for my boss, and good 'ole Brad was working for me. He was my resident office assistant at central. Oh, and his salary-40K-half of what his soon to be wife was making. Well, ex-cons typically didn't do as well as those on the straight and narrow.

Life was good.

-----------------------------

   Series:Victor and Isabelle
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:She cheats; the kids discover her; she destroys her husband before he finds out and can react.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/66457/victor-and-isabelle
Published:2010-11-24
"Damn that feels good," she said. He pulled out and felt her vagina squeeze him trying to hold him in. He laughed.

"Like it do you? Tell me again how much better than Victor I am," he said.

"No comparison, honey; pencil dick can't hold a candle to you. His little thingy just doesn't do it for me. Come on, sock it to me; don't tease me," she said. He ploughed into her once more; soon he was ramming her to the point of pain, but she didn't cry out. Her only sounds were low guttural grunts and growls as she began to stiffen and shudder in her third orgasm of the night.

As they were dressing he stopped and looked over at her. "Why don't you just leave him and come with me," he said. "We like the same things. We work in the same office. We're meant for each other. I mean a truck driver for chryssakes!"

"Yes, he used to drive a truck, but he's a good guy, Roger; and, he's a businessman now making a whole lot of scratch. And, for now, we keep him on a short leash and let him think he's-adequate." She smiled, "Like I was saying, he brings home five times what we do put together. Little dick, big business brain that's my Victor," she laughed.

"Yeah, I guess. Gotta give him that, I mean the money part. But, you're his inspiration, Isabelle. Without you he'd fall apart in a New York minute. The only reason he works that hard is because he thinks you love him. If and when he finds out different, well, he won't be able to handle it. I'm telling you," he said, "I know the type. Marries out of his league and then spends the rest of their-his-natural life trying to measure up," he said. She laughed again.

"Yes, I do believe he would fall apart if I left him," said Isabelle, "he's very sensitive. But, in all fairness, economically he has succeeded, and that big time. I do not want to be messin' with a meal ticket like my Victor."

"You know, together we'd be a heckuva team, Isabelle. If the business was yours… " he started.

"Don't even go there, Roger. I don't know the business and neither do you. We'd play hell making a go of it I'm certain. So, like I said, for now we have to be content with what we have and that's all," she said. He sighed.

"I suppose-for now at least," he said. "But, I'm going to get some of the stuff we talked about worked on. If and when he ever signs off on it, and I know you could get him to; well, it'd be point, set, match to us. Think about it."

"Yes, yes, but even if he did give me controlling interest, he'd still be the man to run it, not us," she said. "Roger, you're a paralegal. I'm a paralegal. There's no way we know how to do the kinds of things necessary to run a shipping enterprise like his."

******

"You hear that, Lan," said his sister. "Mom's having sex with that other man. And, they're talking a lot of trash about daddy."

"What are we going to do?" said Lan. Though younger by a year, fourteen year old Lisa was way the leader of their two person gang. "We gonna tell dad? We have to tell dad."

"No, we're going to tell mom that we know. She'll stop if she thinks that dad will divorce her. If she knows we know-well-she'll be scared to have sex with that man," said Lisa. Landry James Shelby looked dubious but nodded his willingness to go along with what his sister said.

The two siblings moved quietly back down the hallway and exited the house. They would talk to their mother a bit later, maybe after dinner. Their dad was on a business trip and that would give the two of them the chance they needed to carry out their plan.

******

Dinner had been quieter than usual. Isabelle Shelby noticed. "Lisa? Landry? Is something wrong dears?" she said. They were just finishing the last of the meatloaf that their mother had prepared for them.

"The meatloaf was really good, mom," said Landry. His mother smiled.

"Well, thank you, Landry. I'm glad you liked it," she said.

"Lisa?"

"It was fine, mom," she said. Landry looked at his sister. He was clearly wishing he was someplace else, like maybe Ethiopia.

Isabelle Shelby looked at her daughter and had a bad feeling. A feeling based on nothing, but a bad feeling nonetheless. "Lisa, is something wrong?"

"Yes, mom, something very bad is wrong momma," said the fourteen year old girl.

"Lisa, what is it, dear? Tell momma. I'm sure we can figure something out. We'll get your dad to help if necessary. Okay?" she said.

"Dad can't know about this mom. It's kinda about him," said Lisa. Her mom waited. Her eyes were the more narrowing the longer she had to wait.

"Mom, me and Landry; well, we saw you and that man having sex today. Having sex momma! Momma, you and that awful man did very bad things. And-and-you said very bad things about daddy, you and that man," said Lisa. "Momma, how could you talk like that about daddy! It was very bad, momma." She had spoken very fast, but her words were stunningly clear.

The older woman paled. "Wha-wha-what are you… " she started.

"Momma, we saw you," said Lisa. "We heard you too. We heard all of it. Right, Lan?" Her brother nodded though he clearly wanted no part of the goings-on.

Their mother sank into a chair and stared at the two children. Izzie Shelby felt her world collapsing.

"Children-it's just something that grownups-oh my God… " The older woman was beside herself with embarrassment and fear, yes, fear.

"Mom, it was bad stuff. Really bad stuff, momma. You gotta stop it momma. You gotta," said Lisa. The girl looked toward her so far silent brother; he got the message.

"Mom, we don't want daddy to know. We don't want you and dad to divorce like Millie Johnson's mom and dad did. Millie cries every night mom. She told me so," said Landry.

Isabelle, looked at her two children. Her mind was a cacophony of conflicting emotions and thoughts. Her Victor! Jesus, he would divorce her if he found out what she'd been doing-and saying.

The real truth was that she didn't want a divorce. Roger was great in bed but almost useless in any other way. But, Izzie Shelby was a realist if nothing else. Victor was going to find out now. Her children were too young not to give her away, even if she dropped Roger; Victor would still find out. It might be later rather than sooner, but it was inevitable now that the children knew. There was just no gainsaying it.

The children didn't want them to divorce, but having seen Roger and her; they had ensured that a divorce was a certainty. She had to talk to Roger.

Roger would know what to do; he had to! He'd think of something, some way to make sure that she didn't come out of the divorce penniless and without hope.

"Okay, Lisa, Lan, I will stop seeing mister-the other man. I am so sorry children that you had to see something like that today. I don't know, but when you grow up-well-maybe you'll understand. I hope so. And, no, I don't want to divorce your dad either," she said. It was a lie. But it was one she'd had to tell the children to gain the time she'd need to set things up and assure the success of her not yet mature plans.

The two teenagers rushed to their mother and the little group hugged. Her mother didn't seem to notice the troubled eyes of her daughter.

******

"I don't know why you're so down, Izzie. Frankly, this is an opportunity for us. I mean for you and me to… " started Roger.

She glared at him.

Her lover continued. "The man's an old guy. One foot in the grave already. He loves you. You got him totally pussywhipped. Just get him to sign the documents. Make him believe he's protecting you on account of he is so much older. Giving you nominal-though real-control of the business will protect you and ensure that you will not have to fight his relatives or anyone else if he should have a heart attack or something. Let him know that he will still have operational control; you'll not be interfering with the day to day business per se. He'll go for it; I know it."

"Roger! One, I don't cotton to hurting that good man. Worthless in bed, but a good man; that's my Victor. We should never have been talking smack about him; that was a mistake, a big one. The only reason we are considering doing what-well considering what we're planning is because he is certain to find out what we were saying about him. The cheating on him I could get him to forgive; he is a pussywhipped little guy, and he loves me enough for me to sell him on forgiving me that. But the words-never.

Two, we may get the business and the rest of the stuff we've talked about, but running it, the business-well-it ain't gonna be no picnic that's all. Victor works really long hours, Roger. He works crazy hard. Sometimes he comes home so dragged out that he can't even get it up for me. Hell, that's the main reason you got your shot at me," she said. She was not smiling. "You ready to work that hard bud, that long?"

"Iz, I will do whatever is necessary to make the business go," he said. "We'll hire someone to do the stuff that Victor does if we have to. You think he's the only one who knows how to move merchandise. There's a million like him out there."

She stared at him. She knew he didn't get it, she knew that for sure. But, he did have a good idea about hiring someone who could do the job that her husband did. They'd have to pay whoever it was pretty good, but that was going to be the price they'd have to pony up for making the mistake of fucking each other in her Victor's marital bed.

And there was one other thing that might play in their favor: two of Victor's male family members had died young-both of heart attacks. It was probably congenital. But, Victor had always pooh-poohed her questions on the subject. Now, she might be in a position to use that knowledge to get what she wanted.

"Okay, get it done then, Roger. We're going to be screwing him over pretty good; let's at least not drag things out more than necessary, okay. Jesus, I feel like shit doing this to him. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did we have to do it where the kids could see us like that. This whole thing is not going to sit well with them either.

******

"Nice to have you back, Mr. Shelby," said the secretary.

"Nice to be back, Marge. We didn't go bankrupt or anything while I was gone, did we?" I said.

"No sir, all's well. You did get a call from your wife; wanted to know when you'd be arriving. You maybe should get home, sir. The guys and me can handle it for a least one more day," she said smiling.

"Yeah, it's going to be good getting home to the wife and kids. I sure as hell miss them when I'm on these jaunts. I'll be headin' out in a few.

"Have Eric join me in the conference room, okay? I have a few loose ends to tie up before I can get out of here," I said.

"You got it, boss," she said.

******

The dinner was among the best I'd had in forever: boiled potatoes, pork adobo, steamed lima beans, and a frosty beer. After eating restaurant food for two weeks, I was ready for some of Izzie's home cooking. Izzie may have looked like a runway model but she cooked like Julia Childs.

I poured the last of my second beer into the mug and sipped it. "Honey, that was fantastic. I have been dying for some of your home cooking.

"So, how's it been going for you these two weeks," I said.

"Good. Real good," she said. I detected something in her tone that told me she had more to say than she so far had.

"Honey?"

"Victor-I-I-can I talk to you about something that's been bothering me for a while?" she said.

"Sure," I said. "You know you can. Anything." She sighed.

"Vic, your healthy as a horse. But-you work like one too, like a draft animal actually. I worry," she said. I started to say something, but she waved me off. "No, let me finish, okay, honey. Please." I nodded.

"I worry that you might have a heart attack, or a stroke. And don't laugh; it happened to both your dad and your younger brother; and it killed your dad at 52 and your brother at 43!

"I was talking about you to my boss the other day. He told me that if you were, you know…"

"A candidate for health problems?" I said, interrupting her.

"Well, yes. Anyway, he said that I could be in a world of hurt if, God forbid, you were to die and leave me in the middle of a battle for control of our business. I'd win in the end, he told me, but it could be costly and there is even the remote possibility that I could lose, I mean lose the business," she said. I looked at her. She seemed genuinely concerned about things.

"So what did your boss recommend? He did have a recommendation, right?" I said.

"Yes, well, he said you could sign over nominal control of the business to me while you are still healthy. It would mean nothing in actuality; you'd still be running things, nobody can do what you do, certainly not me; but I would technically be the big boss," she giggled. "You know, like in the bedroom." I blushed. She did rule in the bedroom, and she was kinkier than a five dollar whore, and I loved it.

"Honey, you're almost twenty years older than me. It makes no difference to me or us in our personal lives, but if anything happened to you-" she stopped talking and looked at me with wrinkled brow.

"Give you control of the business? But I would still be running things? Doesn't sound too bad. Is it hard to do? I mean a ton of lawyer stuff and all?" I said.

"No. It would only be a bit of paperwork actually. My boss would write it up. The company lawyer, your lawyer, would look it over. We'd both sign and that would be it," she said. Maybe fifteen minutes, maybe an hour, and it would be done," she said.

"Get it done," I said. "If I were to retire, which I am sorta planning on doing in a couple of years; I'd love it if you could take over and manage things. It would make me feel a lot better about-well, leaving you-I mean after… " She came to me and gave me a huge hug.

"Hopefully not for many years to come, my husband. I love you so much," she said. The sex that night was good enough to have restarted the Trojan War; I knew for absolutely dead-mortal certain that the legendary Helen had nothing on my wife.

Isabelle was right about the paperwork and the lawyering part; it took about half an hour for the whole show. Afterwards, everybody shook hands. Some guy, a paralegal named Christiansen, seemed anxious to hold everybody's spear while the festivities played out; I figured him for some kind of bootlicker.

My own lawyer wanted to put in a defensive clause, as he called it, in the text stating my rights in case of a divorce or other disagreement, but I shook him off. Isabelle and I would take care of anything that came along. Plus, worse case scenario, a divorce, I knew damn well that she could not hope to do what I was doing, or that damn few others could either. Bottom line: I was needed, really, indispensible. Well, I thought I was. Problem was, as I was about to discover, there were others that did not agree with my assessment.

******

"I'm a little concerned too, Lisa," said Landry. "I heard mom on the phone today like I said, and if I heard her right; dad has made her a big boss in the company."

Lisa nodded. "Add that to the conversation I heard on the phone tonight, Lan, and things don't look too good. Mom said something to somebody, don't know who, about a divorce. I don't know if it's a divorce of her from dad or what; but I'm really scared, Lan," said Lisa.

"Do you think we should tell dad, now?" said Lan.

"I don't know; I don't know. If we do, and we're thinking wrong…," said Lisa.

"Yeah, I know. It wouldn't be good. I guess we do have to wait and see, find out more. I don't know," said Landry. "I'll say this though, it was a good idea you had about us trying to listen in on mom when she was on the phone. I real good idea."

******

I was stunned at first. Signing over ownership of the company to my wife, had made no difference in company operations or the success of the company overall. Things were good, until today. Today, the proverbial shit hit the fan. It was supposed to be a good day. I'd gotten solid contracts with two firms that needed our shipping services. I was feeling real good.

I was just coming out of a meeting with the representatives of one of the companies when a stranger approached and handed me an envelope. "You're served," he'd said. I looked at him like he had two heads. My business associates didn't seem to notice as they had been preceding me into the lounge.

I tore open the manila package and stared dumfounded at the contents: petition for divorce!

Going inside, I begged off and headed back to my room. I made the call, or tried to, several times. No answer. So that was the deal. I was being fucked over by my woman. Oh yeah, fool I had been, snookered I had been, and now about to be divorced from the only woman I had ever loved. The coldness of it hurt me more than the thing itself. Nothing. No conversation, no please forgive me buts. Nothing, just a process server, and a moment of horrible hurt frozen forever in time and burned into very fabric of my soul.

The interesting thing was, that for the moment, I felt mellow. Kinda like they say some cancer patients feel when their time nears. I didn't hurry back. I stayed a couple of extra days figuring out what I could or should do. But, in the end, I had to return.

After the plane landed, I didn't go home. I guessed I didn't have one to go home to in any event. Oh, I was half owner; legally I could go home, at least as far as I knew. But, if she were there? And, she likely would be-no-I didn't want to face that, not yet. There hadn't been any restraining order in the papers that the process server had dumped on me, but I was sure there soon would be if I tried to get her in a face to face; my wife hung tight with a mess of lawyers. I decided to go to my office.

"Hi Jerry," I said to the security guard. I'd hired Jerry when he'd gotten out of the slam for drug possession. He was a friend of mine from my driving days. I paid him twice the going rate. He owed me.

"Hi Victor," he said. "Vic-Mr. Shelby, you can't go in sir. The owner's orders."

"Jerry? Huh?"

"Vic, it's your wife. We all know she's screwing you over. The cops inside say it's all legal. I can't let you in," he said.

"There are cops inside?" I said.

"Yes, sir, your wife had them come. She knew you'd likely be by, and she is making sure you don't try to make things hard for her, or hurt her as she told them. I heard her say that to them. That's the truth Mr. Shelby," he said. I nodded. "Mr. Shelby-we all know it's bullshit. It makes us sick."

"I'm Victor to you, Jerry. Drop the mister Shelby stuff, okay?" I said. "And thanks."

"Sir-Victor-thank you, sir, for understanding. You know I owe you. But, I have a family now…"

"It's okay, Jerry. You do need to protect your family. I have no problem with you. Good luck." Stunned and bitter, I turned and headed out and away. I didn't know it at the time, but my wife had been watching from her office window as I talked with my old friend. She wasn't alone.

******

"I wonder what will happen to him now," she said.

"He'll be all right, and so will we," said the man.

"He'll try to see the children, you know. When he finds out that they're in boarding school, he is not going to be happy," said Isabelle. "Roger, I feel like shit doing this to him. He didn't deserve any of it. We did, but he didn't and doesn't. I have a bad feeling."

"Your words, Isabelle: 'He's a brain.' He'll do fine. It's us who have to be doing the work now. But we have an edge, old Victor didn't have," he said.

"An edge?" she said.

"Yes, your good looks. When those customers come, all you have to do is charm 'em into shipping with us. The men in the warehouse can do the rest. Who's that straw boss of Victor's again?" he said.

"Eric Ross," she said. Used to be a driver. Victor hired him years ago. He's always been his right hand man," said Isabelle.

"We'll need to be talking to him. At least for the moment, he's gonna be our operations guru. Maybe give him an incentive to do his best. A raise usually works in situations like this," he said.

"Victor never believed in raises. His incentives were always bonuses for doin' a good job. Bonuses yes, raises no," she said.

******

"Horowitz didn't go for it?" said Roger.

"No. He said thanks but no thanks or words to that effect," said Isabelle. "Some kind of religious nut, I guess. He's the third since we took over: the third to turn me down for a date that is. So I guess, lover, that my outrageously good looks aren't the asset you thought they'd be. Sorry about that.

"Oh, and he said he'd have to think over his shipping contract with us before he renewed. Just a technicality, he said."

"Jesus, what's the matter with these people your husband did business with. They a bunch of eunuchs or something?"

"Maybe I'm just not the catch you think I am, lover. I'm thirty-eight years old. Not over the hill exactly, but the crest of the hill is definitely in sight," she said, laughing.

"Nonsense, you're the best lookin' chick in this burg. We've just run into a bunch of deadheads, or dead dicks" said Roger.

******

"I hate this place," said Lan. "I wanna talk to dad. He needs to know what's been going on if he doesn't already."

"Yes, and I want for us to talk to him too. But what can we do. Mom said dad was divorcing her because of what she and that man were doing. She said she confessed, and dad lost it and left her. I tried to call him at his office, but Margie said he didn't work there anymore. I guess he quit," said Lisa. "I can't believe that he left us. But mom said…"

"He'll contact us somehow," said Landry. "He has to contact us. Mom won't stop him from talking to us; I'm sure of that." Lisa looked thoughtful.

"We were sure she wouldn't cheat on daddy either, but she did. Right now I'm not taking anything for granted," she said. Landry took on a thoughtful expression too.

"We could call Mr. Wheeler or Eric," said Lan. "Maybe they know how to get hold of daddy."

Lisa looked at her brother and smiled. "You know, big brother, sometimes you do have your thinking cap on," she said.

******

I'd driven by the house to get my stuff and found a UHAUL truck parked out front. There was a note on the front door of the house when I showed up. The note stated that all of my stuff was in the truck and the keys were where I used to keep the extra set of house keys. She'd thought of everything, had my traitorous wife.

I got the keys from under the sill flower pot and checked out the truck. Three large boxes were in the back. I figured I should have been grateful that she'd at least allowed me to have my personal things. Helluva deal.

Fifteen years of marriage boiled down to this. Well fuck 'em. She and I would be talking at some point. I didn't know when, but we would, and I would be getting mine back; there was no fucking doubt about that. Oh no, no fucking doubt what so fucking ever!

I had some money in a personal account that Izzie knew nothing about. It was just a small checking account that I used for the odd emergency: gifts, expenses where I needed cash while traveling. Eventually, I would need the cash for a new apartment that I'd have to move into. Well, at least I had a little money to work with. Except for that two grand and my car, I didn't have a pot to piss in.

Surprise, surprise, my wife it seems had fired me without a compensation package. I did get my final check. It had been delivered to my older brother's house the day after the scene at the company gate. Fred had called my cell to tell me. Fred was my only remaining living relative. After dad and our younger brother had died, Fred and I had become very close, almost protective of each other.

Fred, was an ex marine with a hardon against women in general for the way he had been treated by his ex. Hell, I could relate. Retired military, he spent most evenings at the Buscadero, a country western bar and grill where men with good manners were hard to find and women with virtue rarer still. My kind of place I decided as I sat waiting for a twenty-something serving girl to deliver my glass full of forgetfulness.

"So, you okay?" said Fred taking stool next to mine.

"Hi Fred. Yeah, more or less. Thanks for letting me hang out at your place till I can find a place to land," I said. He shook off my thanks; it had been a foregone conclusion that I would stay at his place, as it would have been the other way 'round had our situations been reversed.

"Anyway, so Lisa called you? A boarding school, how fucking wonderful. Ojai is over a hundred miles away. Nice of good 'ole Izzie to let me know," I said. "The goddamn bitch is really socking it to me. I don't know what I ever did to her to make her want to hurt me like this. I mean my children for cryin' out loud! If she wanted a divorce, fine. I'd have cried a million tears for the loss of the love of my life and then gotten on with things. But the children! They should be neutral territory. Hell, I don't even have a job, and no access to my company's funds. I'm broke, goddamn it! How am I going to be able to get up there to that freakin' boarding school to see my babies on any regular basis," I said. "The divorce papers, the ones she dumped on me, proposed a once a month unsupervised visit with the children at their residence. I thought that meant the house. Hah!"

"Whaddya figure to do," he said.

"Like I said, the divorce agreement she's proposing said I had to see them at their place of residence. I didn't fight it because I thought their place of residence would be the house. But it's not the house. I'll have my lawyer looking into that. As far as I'm concerned the bitch set that one up in bad faith. Hell, what else could you call it, would anyone call it!" I said.

"Don't know about no lawyer stuff, but I will help you see them for the foreseeable future if you will allow," he said.

"Thanks bro. I'm broke, but not that broke. I've got a bit in the bank. I can get up there some way. I have to," I said.

"Vic, a piece of advice," said Fred.

"Yes?" I said.

"Don't grill the kids when you go there. Don't make them choose up. Kids see more than we dumbass adults have the wit to imagine. They'll tell if it's right for them to, and not-well-if not," he said. I nodded; he made sense.

******

Going up to see my kids was a chore. I had to see them, but it was a chore. Plus my brother's words kept ringing in my ears. He was right, but I was not going to be the bad guy in this. Somehow I had to make that clear to my babies; I had to make it right without blaming the dirty doublecrossing whore that their mother was. Okay, I was bitter.

I smiled. I had a random thought. Izzie and I had eaten at a Chinese restaurant that we both liked not too long before all this shit hit the fan. For no reason whatsoever, at least that I can recall, we'd started to talking with the owner: one Lee Shin Liang. The subject was the Chinese calendar. It seems that I was born in the year of the dragon. My wife? In the year of the rat! So fucking fitting. Maybe bitter didn't completely describe my current mental state.

******

We hugged for a full minute before letting each other go. "Whoa up there kids, one at a time."

"We are so glad you came, dad," said Lan. Lisa squealed.

"Daddy we missed you. You and mom…!" she started.

"Lisa, today is about the three of us. Your mom will be up to see you too; I'm sure of that," I said.

"Daddy, you-divorcing mom? How come," said Lisa. Boy this girl of mine didn't let any grass grow under feet, I thought as I recovered from my surprise.

"Whoa again, girl, I am not divorcing your momma; she's divorcing me. Whatever else you may have thought, that one is not the reality. I got papers served on me while I was out of town. It was your mom that started the proceedings. That said… " I said.

Lisa glanced at her brother, "Dad, mom said you'd found out about her… and that you… and that man… " Landry wasn't doing too well at expressing himself.

"Found out what? What man? What?" I said. Lisa took a deep breath and took her time exhaling.

"You didn't know did you dad. I mean about mom?" said Lisa.

"Know what!" I said. I was beginning to lose my patience; I took a deep breath. "If you kids have something to say; please, get to it."

"Dad, Landry and I-we caught mom-we heard them talking-dad, she was with another man. I think he works where she does. She must have been afraid that we'd tell you, so… " said Lisa.

"So, she decided to preempt me, or more accurately, anything I might decide to do if you told me," I said. I was talking mainly to myself.

"Dad, we are so sorry. We told her we didn't want you guys to divorce. We told her that we wouldn't… " said Lisa.

"Wouldn't what? Tell me? Tell me what you'd seen-heard?" Both children looked down. I nodded. The picture was clearing up now. Suddenly I knew that the boarding school thing was a reaction to the concern that I would turn them, the kids, against her.

Still, she must have known, known that the kids and I would be talking sooner or later. But-then-maybe she just figured she was short of options, kinda grasping at straws. The kids far away, made contact harder, and by inference marginally more advantageous to her purposes.

My soon to be ex-wife sure was one mixed up cookie. I suppose the good news for her was that she got everything that had any significant value from our marriage because of the contract that did me out of my business. Bank accounts, the business, the house since it was owned by the company. And oh yes, temporary prime custody of the children, but all that could change; and, I'd be looking into my parental rights real soon. The divorce still had months to run before it was final.

I knew that I could go after her on the business, now that I knew the real reason, which was not greed per se, as I know realized; but rather the cover up of a sleazy conspiracy. Evidence to which conspiracy the children, who had witnessed the sinners firsthand, had knowledge.

To involve or not to involve the children, that was the question. There could only be one answer to that proposition-no. Short of a question of life and death, I would never put them in the middle of something like this. No, if the lovers were willing to destroy people's lives for money, I was not. Sooner or later they'd screw up and then they'd be payin' up for what they did. Oh yeah. Patience was not one of my virtues, but in this case I planned to be a very Job!

I sighed, there was going to be some tough days ahead, at least for me. I knew she'd see to the welfare of the children; she wasn't that big of an asshole. But for me, it looked like lean times. Fifty-five years old: driving a truck again was not an option. Besides, I didn't have a truck. Try to catch on with someone else? Who'd want an old fart like me. Still, I did have some skills. I knew my way around diesels. A mechanic? Maybe. I knew one guy I probably could approach in that regard.

******

"That bad, Vic?" said Mac Wheeler. "I-"

"You know I wouldn't be asking, Mac, if I had any options. But she pretty much screwed me out of everything with that bogus contract she made me sign. I may not even have any retirement anymore unless my lawyer can break the deal I made with her; she controls everything. Hah! It was to protect her that I signed the damn thing. What a laugh. He told me at the time that I should have included a defense clause in case of a divorce. But, oh no, I had to be the big shot. The trusting jackass of a husband. And the kids…"

"Victor, you're hired, okay. I need a part time specialist," said Mac.

"A specialist?" I said.

"Yeah, someone to help train a couple of newbies I hired last month. Hard to get qualified folks these days. I was going to do some moonlighting on my own to train them, but with you coming on-well-it would only be part time. You know a couple of hundred a week; best I can do, Vic," he said. "But, you can fill your tank-I mean your car-here… " I interrupted him.

"Yeah, at least I still have my car, damn little else, but I do have that," I said.

Mac continued,"… and there's a little cubbyhole back of the big floor that you can shack up in if you want. It's got a small bathroom attached and a half-assed cot in it. I mean if you want."

"Mac, thanks. I'll take you up on the cubby too. I've been shacking with my brother for the past few days, but… " I said.

"Yeah, I understand. You can move in right now if you want," he said.

I was able to stack the three large boxes of my stuff in the corner of the cubby; I could have left them at my brother's, but it was all stuff I'd need sooner or later, so I wanted it with me wherever I landed. The boxes being in there didn't leave me much room to move around, but the place was dry and it was secure.

Laying on the cot, I thought back to all of the happenings. One day I had money, prestige, a loving wife, kids to hug me when I got home each night; the next day nothing. Helluva thing.

I'd needed a job. Well, I'd gotten one, at least for the short term. I needed a place to crash; I had that now: five star accommodations it sure as hell wasn't, but it was free; proving thereby that there was an upside to everything. Now, if I could just find me a shoulder to cry on-preferably a female shoulder.

******

"Yes, have him come in Marge," said Isabelle.

"Good morning, Eric. It is very good to see you. We've met before of course but it has been a while," she said.

"Yes," he said, "it has been a long time. Christmas three years ago as I recall."

"Yes, I believe that that is so.

"Is everything all right? I mean on the job, Eric," she said.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said. "Been kinda spinnin' our wheels waiting' for directions. I mean since the boss-"

"Yes, well that's just it, Eric, I'm the boss now. My husband and I-well-we broke up. But, life goes on; business continues. What I mean, Eric, is that I need a good man to run the day to day operations. I'd like to offer that responsibility to you-with a commensurate increase in pay of course," said Isabelle.

She saw him ease back in his seat. He nodded. "Gonna be strange not having Vic to make the decisions, but I guess, I can do it," he said.

******

"So Eric was able to get the orders shipped all right?" said Roger.

"Yes, but he asked me about next week," Izzie.

"And that would be about what?" said Roger.

"He told me that the trucks have no place to go after Tuesday next; that is apart from some small stuff in town. There's nothing to be shipped during the next while since most of the contracts, at least the large ones from the big companies are up for renewal and except for Horowitz none of them have. Reupped that is. He only did it because of his friendship with Eric. Seems like the three of them: Horowitz, Eric, and Victor used to be tight; I mean when they were all driving," said Isabelle.

"Jesus," said Roger. "We gotta get some of those contracts renewed or else get some new business to take their place. We need a salesman."

"What's wrong with you doing something to help out here? It was your idea to screw the man over, after all, and that as well as my quitting the firm to run this place," said Izzie. "I can't be in two places at once." She looked frustrated.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Roger.

"Victor used to be able to do both, but I ain't him," said Izzie. "I just can't do thirteen and fourteen hours a day!"

"I'll think of something. I'll think of something," said Roger.

"Yeah, well in the meantime, big guy. Yo have some other business to take care of," she said.

"Here?" I mean here? In the office?"

******

She came to him and they melded to each other obscenely rubbing their pubes together like two sex starved teenagers. She pushed him back and walked over to her desk. She hiked up her skirt and bent herself over it. No words were spoken.

He turned and went to the door and locked it, throwing the dead bolt. Coming back to her, he knelt behind her and began kissing her still panty clad buttocks and pressing his nose into her crack.

"You smell wonderful," he said.

"Of course," she giggled.

He slid her panties down and pulled them off her feet. She spread legs a little wider for him. He continued his kissing, and now licking her crack and anus. She sighed as he worshipped her.

She felt him stop and pull back from her. She heard his zipper being pulled down and the soft sounds his clothes made as he tossed them on the floor.

She felt him move behind her. She didn't notice him spit on his hands and lather his cock. His hands separated the twin globes of her now slickened butt crack. He pressed himself against her anal entrance and pushed, not too hard. He waited, pushed a little more. She grunted. He was inside of her. He began screwing her. She made little squeaky noises that indicated a mixture of small pain and big pleasure.

"Oh my yes, Roger, fuck me. Do me really good," she said. He responded by increasing the tempo of her screwing. She pushed back at him. Moments later she began jerking spasmodically as she came and continued to cum. He stiffened and painted her bowels white with his semen.

He leaned forward and lay across her still bent over form. For her part, she lay still, her senses still alive from her fucking. She loved being butt fucked. It was the one thing that her Victor had always been halfway good at. She thought about that now even with her lover's cock was still buried inside of her.

She felt him pull out. She pushed herself back up, turned and watched him as he retrieved his clothing and began to don them. "That'll have to be enough for the moment," she said. "Thank you. You did well." she giggled. Finished dressing, he smiled back at her, turned, and went out.

******

I settled into my new digs and part time job-that turned out to be almost full time for but little more pay than the original plan called for-and tried to get on with my life. Get on with my life, but thoughts of my ex and her lover were never far from my mind.

I saw her, Isabelle, again but once over the next two years. That once had been the day of the final decree of the divorce. I'd attended, though my lawyer had said I didn't need to, mainly to get a look at my replacement whom I had never yet laid eyes on. I was not disappointed. He was there, looking arrogant. I saw him mouth some words at me, "I've got her now, wimpy, deal with it." I could feel my face darken. I had every intention of dealing with it. Sooner or later the fucking chickens were going to be coming home to roost.

For her part Isabelle only looked over in my direction once. Her wrinkled brow told me she regretted screwing me over, but felt she'd had no choice; yes, I saw all of that in her look. I just shook my head slowly indicating that there would be no forgiveness for the treacherous way she'd done me.

At the end of the proceedings I was single and still all but broke and still bitter and still lonely. It was no surprise to me, but the two conspirators tied the knot a few weeks after the final judgment was in the books.

******

"Mac's gone for the day, Victor?

"Say, could you do me a favor and give me a lift home," said Jennifer. "Mine is into the dealership for its free servicing-it's still pretty new." Jennifer Curtis had been with Mac, as his secretary and all around trouble shooter for some seven years as he'd said.

"Sure bet," I said. "Five o'clock, right?"

"Yes. That would be great, Victor, really," she said.

The ride to Jennifer's house was noisy. It seemed she liked loud country music. We were both rockin' the car as we motored down the street toward her place. Pulling into her carport, we were laughing our heads off. Both of us were doing our level best to ruin Melissa Lambert's "Famous in a Small Town."

"Jennifer, that's the best I've felt in weeks," I said. She giggled.

"I'm glad, Victor. You should ask me out sometime. I mean if you know the Texas Two Step," she said, as she exited the car. I sat there in a semi-coma before waking to what she'd said. I pushed my door open, stood, and called after her.

"Jennifer?"

"Yes?" she said, turning toward me.

"Saturday night? Sevenish?" I said. She nodded coquettishly. I smiled as I made my way back to the garage. It'd been some two months since the final decree. I was still in a blue funk. Still trying to figure a way to get my company back or at least away from the dirty duo. Yeah, yeah I was still really really bitter.

But, for the moment the good news was that I loved to dance and a woman of rather better than average good looks was interested in dancing with me. Things were looking up, and I counted that as more than an improvement in my current mental state. Now, all I needed to make my situation mellow was to see my ex slip on a banana peel and bruise her pert little pink butt. I laughed out loud at the image such a thought brought to mind.

The Wild Horse Inn and Dancehall was loud and crowded and our kind of place. Jennifer kinda led me to a table against the wall and to the right of the bandstand.

"Been here before; the music is gonna be loud and this is the best spot to sit if we wanna be able to hear each other between dances," she said. I nodded and smiled. Too many dance halls played the music so loud communication could only realistically be carried on by semaphore.

"Experience is a wonderful thing," I said.

"Yeah, it is," she said.

The first tunes were medium fast, those were followed by a tandem of slow songs. We danced them all. At the end of the second slow one, we reclaimed our seats at the table and said our whews!

"That Was fun," I said, meaning it.

"For sure," said Jennifer. "You've done some dancing in your time, haven't you?"

"Yeah, in the old days I was something of a serious hoofer. Hadn't had much of a chance since then though. Just too busy," I said.

"So your ex shit on yuh?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah. Not like I shouldn't have seen it coming, but I didn't. Now, I'm screwed. I keep telling myself that what goes around comes around. But, if it's comin' around it must be by broken legged Clydesdale. Anyway, I'm not through yet. For now, it's the kids I'm concerned about. I mean they're almost old enough to choose their stay-at place, 16 and just barely 18, but the older one doesn't want to abandon his sister. So, I'm going slow at this point," I said. She nodded.

"You spoken to your ex at all lately?" she said.

"No, don't have a hankerin' to either," I said. "Why? Do you think I should?"

She stirred the drink in front of her, watching it swirl in the stem glass martinis come in. She shrugged. "Not my business, but I'm bettin' she thinks of you from time to time-maybe a lot. I can tell you from personal experience that the grass is almost never greener," she said. "There'll be a time when she wants to talk to you even if you're not so inclined." I nodded.

"Maybe. I sure would like to know why she did what she did, thought what she thought, and chose, what in my opinion, is a complete loser over me. Oh yeah, I guess I really would like to have a serious sit down with that woman," I said.

******

I may have wanted to have a sit down with good 'ole Izzie, but it would be yet two more years before I would even see my ex or her lover. And, when I did, the surprise that she would be layin' upon me would be about the biggest that I had ever had so laid upon me.

******

I gotten a place, not a fancy one, but a regular place soon after I started dating Jennifer. I counted it necessary to not having to try and get ready for my dates in what amounted to a store room.

I was sittin' out on my veranda-well-I was sittin' out on what passed for a marginal excuse of an inadequate veranda. I was watching the sunset. My thoughts turned to the catastrophe that my life had become. Still, with my drink in my hand; it was mellow time. It was, at any rate, until I heard someone behind me clear her throat.

"Victor?"

"Isabelle! Wha-what are you doing here!" I didn't fall out of my chair, but it was a close thing. She smiled, it was a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Hello, Victor. Sorry if I startled you-really," she said. I nodded.

"Uh-again, what are you doing here, Isabelle," I said.

"May I sit, Victor?" she said. I hesitated, but then I stretched out my hand indicating that she could. "Thank you." I'd already asked her twice why she had so honored me with her presence, so I shut up.

"How have you been?" she said. I smirked. The question had to be the first lines in a comedy routine.

"You know how I've been. I've been screwed, Isabelle. Oh yes, by you; you and that asshole lover of yours," I said. She looked down.

"I deserved that. Victor, I-I-I was defending myself against what I thought you might do to me when you found out I had a lover, Victor.

"I didn't want to do you harm then, Victor, and not now either. Things just kinda got away from me. I mean with the lawyers, well, everything," she said. I was beginning to be suspicious. Something was going on here that was gonna be bad for me, I just knew it.

"And?" I said. She fidgeted.

"You got any influence with the bartender here?" she said.

"You want a drink, Izzie? Whatever it is that you want must be bad if you need a drink. Bad for somebody. Why do I fear that that somebody is me?" I said.

"I deserved that too, Victor. But, no, this evening it's me that's between a rock and a hard place," she said.

"My sympathies," I said.

"The drink?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, okay." I had a shaker full of martinis; I rose and went and poured her one. Returning, I handed her the drink. I studied her. I saw distress, hope, and a-certain sadness.

We each sipped our cocktails without a word passing between us for some minutes. Finally, she set her drink down on the tiny table between us.

"Victor, we need you," she said. I know my eyes had to have given away my surprise. "The business," I said. She nodded.

Okay, now I had a point of reference. Something was wrong at the company; the one that the two of them had stolen from me.

"The company?" I said, repeating myself; I wanted to hear her say it.

"Yes."

"You mean the one you cheated me out of." It was not a question. She looked uncomfortable but ignored my dig.

"Victor, I'm sorry. But, yes, the company. It's in trouble. Roger and I-well-we didn't-aren't doing as well as you used to. We need, well, we need you. We want you to come back, run things.

"Victor, we will make it worth your while," she said. I sat there dumbfounded. All of a sudden I was in the driver's seat. All of a sudden I was in a position to lay on some hurt; some of the same as was laid on me. I was loving it, but then something else came to me.

It had lain dormant in me until that moment. From the time I was turned away at my own shop until this minute it had lain dormant and lost, but not anymore. It was lust! Lust for the woman who had done me in. I felt like John Dillinger surviving the treachery of the woman in red and wanting to ask her out on a date. Sense? Not even a smidgen, but real nonetheless.

"Tell me, Izzie, why now? Is this a recent problem or is it something that has been festering for a while?" I said.

"We've had problems almost from the beginning. Neither-well, I, didn't realize what was happening. Late deliveries, messed up contracts. Hell, I'm a paralegal for godssakes. I work with some of the best lawyers around; but these contracts with all of those companies you were doing business with-I just don't know," she cried.

"Helluva lot different dealing with the good 'ole boys than messin' with the two martini lunch crowd ain't it, Izzie," I said.

"I'm broke, Victor. In debt actually. Roger too. We fucked up. We-we need you. I need you," she said.

"Whaddya mean need me?" I said. My meaning, the innuendo, was clear. She looked at me sidelong.

"Huh?" she said.

"I said, whaddya mean when you say you need me?"

"Victor, are you saying-asking-what I think you're asking?" she said. She actually looked stunned.

I smiled. "We used to be married, Izzie. Was I so disgusting? Was I such an inadequate lover that I deserved to be destroyed by you and that so called hot shot lawyer-oh, excuse me I mean lover-of yours? Am I so unworthy of you now? Tell me, please." I watched as she broke down.

"That's what I thought," I said. "I'm not worth fucking, just worth bailing your ass out. Oh, but that's right, you're gonna make it worth my while-I forgot. Well, fuck you, Izzie and the goddamn broken down nag you road in on!" My anger had boiled over. My woman in red all of a sudden had really nasty looking warts.

She leapt from her chair and stormed out. I figured that I'd seen the last of her. I figured wrong. She was about to roll out her big guns: weapons the potency of which even I could not ignore. It was two days later.

******

"Daddy? Can I talk to you?" said Lisa. My head whipped around and I saw my baby standing there. She was alone. I got down from the truck that I was working on and came to her. I looked around her and behind myself. Nothing!

"Lisa, how did you get here? Where's your brother!" I said.

"Mom brought me down from college, dad. She asked me to talk to you. Dad, mom is hurting real bad," said Lisa. My dirty doublecrossing ex had actually stooped so low as to use the babies to try and get what she wanted.

I'd been seeing the kids off and on since our breakup; and now, since they'd entered junior college it was a bit less often. Time stands still for nobody, as I now well knew. The kids were growing up. Lisa was just starting in the nursing program and Landry, a year ahead of her, was into the techno thing: computers and what all.

Their mother and I stayed out of each other's way when visiting; that at least had been something. From the gitgo, I had advised my babies never to mention their mother to me or speak to her about me; they had honored my wishes.

"How's that, baby?" I said. I knew of course, but I really wanted to know just how low my ex had stooped.

"She says, well, she's says she and our step dad are going to lose the business if you don't come back. She says she asked you, but you turned her down-kicked her out. Is that true dad?" said Lisa.

"Baby, I turned her down, but I did not kick her out. She did run out, angry I guess, because I wouldn't help her run the business, her and her lover, husband," I said. Lisa nodded.

"She says Landry and I will have to drop out of college if she can't keep the business running, dad. But, it's okay. College is a good thing, but it's not the only way. You sure didn't need to go, huh, dad."

"How are you supposed to get back to the dorms, baby. I mean now, today?" I said.

"Mom's gonna drive us. She's parked down the block," said Lisa.

"Go get her. Tell her to come here. Come here now if she wants me back in the business," I said.

"Dad, Landry and I really don't care about going to college. We can do it some other way, I mean make a living. But mom-well-she's still our mom. She did bad, daddy, but she is still our mom." I nodded.

"Go get her, Lisa. I want you here when I talk to her. Okay?" I said.

"Okay, daddy." It may have been my imagination, but I was sure I saw the glint of pride in my daughter's eyes, as she hurried off down the block.

The two year old Caddy pulled into the yard and a very beautiful Izzie got out and came to me. I was a mess, grimy, smelly, dressed in near rags, with work shoes that actually had the soles taped on; we were a helluva contrast the two of us, and the one in the fancy duds was begging the one in the rags for help; yuh had to love it. I'd been meaning to get new soon as soon as I had the chance.

"Hello, Victor, thank you for seeing me-us," she said. I glared at her. Grabbing a rag I wiped the worst of the muck off of my hands and signaled that she should come inside.

"You too, baby," I said, addressing Lisa. "I'm doing this for you and Landry, and maybe a little bit for me. Okay?" I said.

"Victor, I don't think… " started Izzie.

"Your ability to think is not in question here, though truthfully it is in serious doubt. What is in question is whether or not I am going to bail you and your lover out. Got it?" I said. I wasn't being nice. I knew exactly what I was going to do; I'd had enough time to figure it out. I also knew that they, the two conspirators, were not going to give me my business back, not outright at any rate; they didn't dare. But, I was going to make me a deal that got me a whole lot of satisfaction to say the fucking least. Oh yeah.

"I seated them around the table the employees sometimes used for lunch and breaks. It wasn't too grimy, though Izzie looked tentative as she sat down. I leaned back against the wall; I didn't want to sit.

"Okay, you want me. I have to ask, why isn't asshole here?" I said, not caring an iota that my daughter heard me.

"Victor, please. I beg of you, can we just get on with this," said my ex.

"This is the deal, Izzie. You and your lover want me back. You want me back bad enough to use my baby to influence me. Okay, you've got me, but on the following conditions, and no negotiation. It's my way or no way. Agreed?" she nodded.

One: my lawyer will draw up a new contract favorable to me. You two will just sign it, like I did-period.

Two: I get half of everything, again no negotiation. I should get it all; count yourself lucky-period.

Three: and lastly, you will work for me, not in those law offices anymore if you still are. I have my reasons. Any problem with that?" I said. She looked askance at me. I was pretty sure she was getting my message. That particular ditty, I would make clearer to her the first day we worked together.

"No, no problem, Victor. And, I haven't worked for the firm since-well-since we broke up. We, Roger and I, really are in trouble financially, and we really have no choice," she said.

"No, no you don't," I said. "You may leave now. My lawyer will be in touch on Monday."

She rose, turned to go, turned back, and looked me straight in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Victor, truly. And thank you. I know we will be okay, now. Thank you again."

"Thank Lisa, I'm doing it mostly for her, a little for me, but mostly for her, for her and Landry," I said. My ex nodded. I had one last shot to unload on her.

"Oh, and have a nice evening, Isabelle Christiansen," I said. I got a look from my daughter, and from my ex, for that one. I felt good.

******

My first day back was busier than I could have imagined it would be. Eric had the yards squared away, but the office stuff was a disaster. I immediately called everybody together in the warehouse, including Izzie. Roger was nowhere to be seen, better that way, I thought.

The two of them had signed the contract: one that nullified the old one; the one they screwed me with. The new one would do, for the moment.

Margie took notes.

"Margie," I said, addressing her, "You have no other job but the records for the next two weeks. Izzie will be your assistant, gofer, typist, whatever you need. If mister Christiansen comes around send him in, but don't call him. It's up to him if he wants to be a part of the activity here; I don't give a damn one way or the other." Margie smiled the smile of the recently rescued. Izzie was stony-faced.

I took Eric aside and told him what I wanted him to do. He jumped to it with a broad smile on his face. The whole place was humming with activity before one could say Jack Robinson. Then, it was my turn.

For two days I did little more than make phone calls. Then, it was the field for me. My first month back we charted as much business as the two baddies had during the previous thirteen months. I was feeling good. Even Izzie had a smile on her face at the beginning of each day; the pressure, the financial pressure, was off.

Mister Christiansen did show up, finally. He wanted to know if he could do anything to help out. Since he was still employed during the week at the law offices; he could only be of use on the weekends. Eric was appointed to keep an eye in him; he loved it, Eric did, the overtime was useful to him since his wife was expecting.

One interesting factoid was that the two cheaters and I had had as yet no sit down to talk it out-their cheating ways and what they had done to me. I had not pushed it because I wanted to get the company back on its feet first, no mean feat.

For the next few months things went along swimmingly. Then it was tax time, and Margie called a meeting with me. She had cleaned up and diagnosed everything in the records from the period that I had been gone to the present. It was an eye opener.

"This straight?" I said, looking up from the papers she'd handed me.

"Yes, sir, and, it's the first I've seen of it, well, was sure of it. It took a ton of digging to find the money. He's good. I mean good at hiding things." I fidgeted.

"Was her signatures on any of this stuff?" I said. Margie looked down.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Shelby. It's on almost everything," she said. I nodded.

"Okay, Margie. You can go. Just keep doing the good job you are doing. Oh, and you're back in the regular office, regular duty as of now," I said. I think she sighed; she hadn't exactly liked doing all of the digging, but it had paid off. Now, I had to make a decision. The tax dodging, the skimming of company funds, the shorting of employees' paychecks on marginally valid pretexts was all documented. Indirectly documented in most cases, but documented. A top gun auditor would decipher it and nail the both of them hardcore: prison time without a doubt. So, question, did I want to see my ex-wife behind bars? Did I want to risk alienating my children by so doing? As for Christiansen, I had no problem seeing him dragged off in chains. But my woman, my ex-woman? I wasn't sure.

It was time for the sit down. The tone of that meeting figured to decide me. And there was one more thing I had to decide even before the meeting with Isabelle and good 'ole Roger.

******

I was seated at a table near the front when she walked it. The place, the Highlander Grill, was fairly full.

"Hi, what's happening? You sounded kinda-I don't know-urgent, I guess," said Jennifer.

"Hi back atcha, Jen." I leaned back in my seat, then forward, my elbows on the table, my fingers interlaced.

"Jen, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about, but the time never seemed right. Or, okay, maybe I was chicken," I said.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" said Jen.

"Jen we've been friends for a long time. We've had an employer-employee relationship even longer. Right?" I said.

"Well, yes of course. We are friends. But, what-what-I mean what are you getting at, Victor. Have I done something wrong?" she said.

"Wrong? Huh? Heavens no!" I said. "Quite to the contrary. Jennifer Curtis, I guess I have to get to the heart of the matter. But-no matter what, I do not want what I am about to say to ruin our relationship. Okay?"

She looked at me like I was from outer space. "Okay," she said. I was having a helluva time getting said what needed to be said. Finally I blurted it out.

"Jennifer Curtis, I want to marry you."

"Huh? Marry? Me? You want to marry me?" she said. She did not look happy.

"Uh-Jen, it's okay. I just well I…"

"Yes," she said finally, and all too quietly for my taste. She moved closer to me, put her arms around me, and kissed me. "Yes, mister Shelby, that would be fine with me." Suddenly her smile was grand-canyon size.

For the next hour plus our faces were never more than a few inches apart. We talked about everything and nothing, and it didn't matter; neither of us were going to remember a bit of it afterwards; or, maybe we'd remember every word of it. The only thing that mattered was the truth that we would always be together; I knew it, and she knew it.

We left together and she took me to her house; I had never been there. Three hours later the front room couch had endured a serious beating, the master bedroom looked as if Hitler's panzers had assaulted it. And the two comatose bodies stretched out on the bed of that master bedroom were near physical ruins.

******

Two days after my meeting with Jennifer, I asked my ex and her partner in crime to a meeting in my office.

I was leafing through the data that Margie had gathered at my direction. I was not feeling especially good, and I wasn't sure why. The knock on the door broke into my musings. I sighed and got up to answer it.

"Hi, Victor," said Izzie. I nodded. Roger followed her in and offered me his hand; I ignored it; he looked askance at me. This was not going to be a very nice meeting for them. Not very nice at all, and, the video recorder would be getting it all.

"Have a seat," I said. "We have some things to go over." They seated themselves in front of my desk. I was silent for a long moment.

"Go over? Go over what?" said Roger, finally losing patience with my silence.

"Well, since you ask, I've been going over some of these papers. It seems Roger that you have been-shall we say-more than a little creative with your bookkeeping," I said.

"What? What are you getting at?" said Roger.

"Victor, we brought you back to help with that very kind of thing; we-well we-just aren't very good at business," said Izzie, butting in.

"To say the fucking least," I said. "The two of you have been doctoring the books and that in technicolor. If the IRS gets hold of what I've got copies of in front of me, they will squeeze you, the two of you, till the pimples on your asses pop." Izzie's eyes suddenly got big.

"Victor-surely-surely-I mean you're not thinking of… " she started.

"Turning you in? Thinking about turning you in, the two of you, Izzie? Frankly, yes it has crossed my mind. You know a little revenge for what you did to me. All I have to do is click send here on this laptop and it all goes to the IRS and the FBI," I said. I glanced at the VIAO on the desk.

Roger had been speechless for a brief moment. Now he regained his voice.

"Please, Victor, like Izzie said, we don't know much about running a business. If we screwed up, we will make it up. Somehow we will make it up. Just don't do anything rash. Please don't send that stuff-whatever it is," he said.

"You're telling me, that you didn't know, that not reporting half of this firms receipts was illegal?" I said.

"Victor, we lost money!" said Izzie.

"That would no doubt be taken into consideration at your sentencing," I said. It was clear to me that Izzie was about to fall apart.

What Roger did next saved him. "Victor, it was all me. Izzie had nothing to do with it. Let her go. I will explain it all to you if you will allow," he said. Well, he'd thrown himself under the bus for his love; that got him some credit from me.

"Okay. Sure, she'd off the legal hook," I said. "Izzie, strip," I said.

"Huh?… " she started.

"Get naked. I'm going to fuck you in front of your husband," I said. She paled, but she started to disrobe. "Okay, stop. I just wanted good 'ole lover boy here to feel a little bit of what I felt. Got it, Roger baby." He nodded.

"Victor, I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry!" he said. I didn't answer him directly.

"Izzie, get out of here!" said Roger. She started at his tone. But, she rose and left-slowly-but she left. I turned to the man who had made me his cuckold and robbed me of everything I'd held dear. I spread my hands in a get on with it gesture.

Over the next while, I got the whole story; and yes, I got it all on video and audio. It seems my erstwhile wife and her lover had acquired tastes that were a tad above their economic possibilities. They had, or rather as Roger said, he had, figured out how to have his cake and eat it too. The plan was rather complex actually; I had to admire his, or their, ingenuity; which of course put the lie to the notion that he or they didn't know exactly what they were doing. They did; they just weren't worth a damn at sales and customer relations. I had to smile at that as he finished his spiel.

I looked at the man and considered my next words carefully. "Roger, you are a complete asshole. You robbed me of my wife and my business, essentially my life. That I was able to recover some measure of my own back was more a matter of luck and a certain woman I met than anything else. I should sink your ship and let you rot in prison. That said…

"You are going to repay every dime you took; you and your wife that is. She is clearly as guilty as you.

"I have already made preliminary arrangements to get it done. The money will come from your personal wages and hers. And, I mean your personal wages from the law firm you work for. Since she works here, I will see her share comes from her checks. You will be allowed enough to get by on, but not a cent more. Don't be figurin' on buying any cars or taking any vacations until you've cleaned up the mess you made. Am I clear?" I said.

He nodded, "Yes, very clear. I guess I should thank you for not turning us in. But, Victor, I know something about the law. How are you going to keep them from going after me, or Izzie, anyway," he said.

"I have friends, Roger. And, they have friends. You're getting one chance. Mess it up and your ass is grass. Got it?" I said.

"Okay," he said.

"Now, for the biggee. You and your wife will sign over complete ownership of this business to me. I mean one hundred percent. She becomes my employee, as I indicated before, at least until you've paid back the near quarter million in IRS dues and penalties that you owe." He had no choice and he knew it. He nodded his acceptance of my terms.

He got up to go, I thought a little unsteadily. I watched him walk slowly to the door. Okay, I had to know.

"Roger?" I said, to his retreating back. He turned to see what else I wanted. "Why? I mean why the bad mouthing me when you two were doing the dirty. And, yes, I know about it." He had the look of the hopeless on his countenance.

"Truth?"

"Yes, and nothing but," I said.

"It was a combination of things. All of it was. The sex with her. Pride-my ego. Quite frankly, Victor, as good as you are at business you're less than useless as a lover. You could say that I am your diametrical opposite both in business and in bed. I loved doing her, and when we got going it was easy to call you names. Mostly to make us, or at least me, feel bigger than we-I-really was.

"You were always the better man in most ways, Victor, just not worth a damn in bed. And a woman needs a man who can do her and make her cry out for more. It's the one thing I can do better than most. Izzie never had a chance; I knew I had her once I'd socked it to her that first time," he said.

I knew he was right. I had about as much imagination as a rock when it came to pleasing a woman. I made a note to change that little ditty. I was not going to lose Jennifer to some other big dicked asshole no matter what.

******

Epilog:

Jennifer and I married six months later. We settled into her house. One that now has a nice deck patio that I built myself. We're planning on a pool, but not until we can afford to pay cash. No debts for us: we are totally on the same page in that sense.

Roger and Izzie are still together. I figure at the rate of the payback to the IRS they're looking at about five more years of barely getting by, but it beats the hell outta several years in the slam.

Jennifer and I do not socialize with the duo, but at work Izzie and I get along-barely. After what she did to me forgiveness would be coming slow if ever. She knew it. I think I see her looking at me as a lost opportunity from time to time. The feeling I get as a result is real nice.

Oh yeah, and Jennifer and I are expecting in a few of months.

-----------------------------

   Series:Voluntary Cuckold
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Hubby desires above all else to be cuckolded
 Category:Cuckold
      URL:http://www.web.archive.org/web/20130524041507/www.literotica.com/s/voluntary-cuckold
Published:2021-08-06
"I don't believe you, Henry. It's just too bizarre to be believed. We've been married for twenty-two years and you lay this on me now? I say again, I can't believe it."

"Kelli, I'm serious. I really want this. I want to be your cuckold. I've worried over how to tell you for a long time. My commitment is unconditional and total, really."

"Why, Henry, why?"

"I guess it's kinda my way of making things up to you. I love you so much that I just can't express it. I want to make you happy. I want you to have good sex; you deserve it. And most of all, I want you to love me and know that I will do anything to make sure you get all of the good things you deserve," he said.

"But my cuckold? Why that?" she said.

"I haven't satisfied you in literally years. I've known it, and I've been unable to do anything much about it. I want and need to be part of your sex life, but up to now that ain't been happenin'; not really. I'm just hoping you'll include me in whatever you do. But, like I say, that's up to you. I meant it when I said my commitment is unconditional. Plus—the thought of you doing it to me is even kind of a turn on. I admit to being a little afraid. But, that in no way changes my mind on this. Kelli, please cuckold me."

"Wait a minute, why are you afraid? This is your idea. Why would you do something that you're afraid of?"

"I'm a little afraid that you might find someone else to love and throw me out. I wouldn't blame you; I've been such a fool for so long a time. But, I hope that my love for you will earn me back some of the love that I know you once held for me. And why? Again, it's kind of a turn on for me. I mean the thought of you getting' it, and me knowin' about it." His voice trailed off, "And me maybe even watchin' it happen." He said this last so softly that she almost didn't catch it.

"I love you, Henry Caulfield. You aren't going to lose me. But, if we do this, and I really am not sure even how to do it; you might discover that it could backfire on you in other ways.

"Wait, did you say—watch?"

"No limits," he said. "Yeah, watchin' would be hot, but that would be up to you. Whatever you want, that's what I want."

"I'm afraid if I did this, Henry, that I'd hurt you," she said. "You're a pretty sensitive guy. And watching while I did it with someone else? You'd never be able to stand it; I know you."

"I know there will be times when the jealousy I will feel will be pretty tough to handle, but I will handle it; I could watch it. I know I could. Kelli, I deserve to be punished for not appreciating you like I should have all these years, like I do know. I am willing to pay the piper and take my medicine in that regard."

"Henry, I have to know. What brought all of this on now? I mean you say you have had it on your mind for a long time. Why now? Why all of a sudden?"

"The Murphys," he said. "I talked to Jack. When Helen dumped him, it broke him. He told me it was because he hadn't appreciated her enough, nor had he been conscious of her needs sexually—that was the big one. It made me realize that he and I weren't so different. Helen is the same age as you. I don't want to wind up like Jack: on the outside looking in."

"I see. Well, this is all a little much, but I will think about it. I admit it does offer some delicious possibilities for sure," she said. "I can just imagine you beating off at home while I get myself thoroughly screwed by some stranger in a motel somewhere." She giggled picturing him desperate, with his pants down playing with himself.

She noticed the bulge in his pants, pointed at it, and giggled louder. "You're getting off on this conversation aren't you my little pervert!"

He reddened. "The thought of you in that motel room is stimulating," said Henry.

**

Kelli hadn't been clear about whether she was actually interested in Henry's plan. She'd said she'd think about it, yet that could have meant anything. But, unbeknownst to her husband; she had been doing some research in the weeks since their conversation. What she discovered excited her. The more she read and surfed the net, the more inclined she was to take a chance.

That a man could actually submit so totally to his wife, that he actually fantasized about being her cuckold, was beyond imagining. Or, it would have been but for her digging up the facts she now possessed.

She understood now, that many men, maybe even most, could be pussywhipped by their women. But being pussywhipped was a far cry from becoming a lifelong cuckold—really a woman's possession, even her slave. Yes, that was something entirely different. Most pussywhipped men were possessive of their women, not sharing—that was the difference from the cuckold husband who gave up all rights to his wife unconditionally.

Kelli decided to test the waters. She'd made up her mind, but she wasn't completely sure that her hubby was really going to be able to handle it, and she did love him; and she did not want to destroy her marriage, hence, her plan.

**

They were eating lunch when she sprang it on him. "You're taking me out dancing tonight, Henry," she said.

"Huh? Yeah sure, honey. Got any place special in mind?" said Henry.

"The Crossroads. It's a county western place just off the freeway at 23rd street."

"Have we ever been there before? I don't recall it?"

"No, and that's the idea. I don't want to be running into anyone we know."

"Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

"Because tonight I intend to cuckold you, and I don't want any complications that I can possibly avoid," she said.

He swallowed hard. "Really."

"Henry, you have until we set foot in that bar to change your mind. If you don't you are done for. You will become a cuckold for real, and life as you know it is over. I can't say it any plainer than that."

He remained speechless and momentarily stunned. She could see the confusion and indecision and even fear in his eyes and on his face.

"It's your idea, Henry. You will have to live with the consequences, so you best think hard about what you want."

"Honey, I was just taken off guard with the suddenness of your announcement. I guess it's kinda like you felt when I first mentioned cuckolding me to you some weeks ago. Frankly, I thought that you'd forgotten all about it. I didn't bring it up again because I didn't want to upset you," he said.

"No, Henry, I hadn't forgotten; and I have done a lot of research in recent weeks, and I think I understand what motivates you. And, I think I understand how to do this. I'm sure you've done some looking into this as well. You have haven't you?"

He looked like a puppy caught with the sock still in his mouth. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "I've done some looking on the internet."

"I'll bet," she said. "Henry, there is just a couple of things I am going to say, and then I am done talking about it. Either we do it or we don't, but after my next words are said it is the last we will discuss this matter tonight."

"Okay," he said.

"I will guarantee you that I will never leave you for another man; I do love you Henry, and I don't want to lose you either. Also, I will guarantee you that I will not deliberately hurt you, I mean mentally. That said, once we begin, if we do; I will screw any man I want any time I want without your consent, without prior notice, and without any concern for your opinion. Am I clear so far?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Finally, if we do it; it will be permanent. I have decided that I can make this work and even make it fun for both of us. As I said, I have done the research. And, Henry, if we do it; your little dick will never again enter this pussy, or any pussy. You will, on occasion, be sexually satisfied at my discretion and in a manner that I will set forth, but your life will become the life of a true cuckold, no more cunt for your little weewee—ever.

"So there it is. Make up your mind because the point of no return is fast approaching," she said.

She mentally crossed her fingers. She had laid it out fairly, maybe even a little too strongly; but she was hoping against hope that he didn't chicken out on her. The freedom the cuckold life style offered her as the wife was just too enticing to pass up. Well, she'd know; they'd both know, very soon.

He nodded. She could tell he was conflicted. She understood his worry, but it had to be this way. She had to be sure of him; hence, the heavy pressure.

**

By 7:00PM she was dressed and dressed to kill. Black sheath midi, fluffed brown hair, understated makeup that made a statement, and she smelled absolutely devastating. Whoever she set her sights on this night was doomed. Forty-one years old and she looked twenty-five.

Henry looked at her, no stared. "Geezsus, Kelli, you're freakin' stunning," he said.

"Thank you dear. You look pretty good yourself." And he did. Nobody had ever accused Henry of being ugly, but tonight his looks wouldn't matter.

Her smile was so wonderfully feminine that he felt himself grow faint at the sight of it.

"Thank you. Thank you for being my wife," he said, "my hot wife."

She raised an eyebrow, but she was secretly thrilled at his last words. It looked as though he was not going to chicken out. But, there was still time, so the pressure was still on, for the both of them.

**

The tension was palpable as they drove the ten miles to the Crossroads.

The Crossroads was a mid-line sawdust joint catering to Stetson wearing wannabe males and ladies, both single and not, on the make. The Caulfields had the money to do their thing a lot higher up the social food chain, but tonight, for her first foray, Kelli had decided she wanted a guy with fewer manners and a little more aggression to do her than she would be likely to find in a champagne and caviar piano bar; doing it dirty and low had long been her secret fantasy. Well, the rubber would soon be meeting the road, or rather the pussy.

Henry pulled into the parking lot. He yanked the keys from the ignition and sat looking straight ahead. This was it. If he opened the door and got out, the old days were gone forever, so his wife had assured him. "Scared" didn't even begin to describe his emotional state.

Kelli, realized his indecision. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. Her left hand mussed his hair. "I love you, Henry. I always will. Are we ready?"

He looked at her. She was so pretty. "Yes. Yes, we are," he said.

She wanted to cheer, but she just smiled at him. "Let's go," she said.

It was almost 9:00PM and the place was fairly full. Henry spotted a table near the left wall and away from the blaring 50s-style juke box. He wondered where they had found a machine that ancient.

On the way to the table, he caught the eye of a waitress and waved her over.

"Two merlots," he said, not thinking.

Kelli giggled. The waitress laughed too. "Henry this isn't the Sand Castle." Kelli smiled at the waitress. "Two tequilas, please," she said.

Henry was embarrassed. But, in his defense, he had other things on his mind.

The two sat and watched the dancers mill around on the dance floor. "Wanna dance?" said Henry.

Kelli looked at him; she thought, "Yes." She figured it wouldn't hurt to advertise her presence a little bit. Just as they rose to dance, the waitress brought the drinks and set them down. They smiled at her and Henry pulled Kelli out into the middle of the dance floor.

The song was a slow one and they danced like the long married couple they were for maybe a minute and half before s big burly type of maybe thirty-five tapped his shoulder. "Mind if I cut in pardner," said the man.

"Uh, no, I guess not," said Henry.

The man swept her away, and Henry went back to the table and watched. He saw them talking.

Just before the as the song ended another man cut in. It was clear that Kelli's big problem for the night would be choosing not being chosen.

The new fellow sensed that his dance partner was looking a little preoccupied, but he also had seen her come in with a guy, and he wondered about it.

The man was in his forties, tall and slender. He exuded confidence. As well he might; he was very handsome. For the first time in his married life Henry felt the pangs of jealousy. He downed his tequila in a gulp.

As the couples on the floor danced and mixed, he lost sight of Kelli and her partner for a brief time. When he sighted them again, they were seated in a booth at the opposite end of the room from him. He was kissing her, and it looked as if his right hand was gently fondling her breast. Henry was sick. He picked up his wife's drink and threw it back too.

As he watched, he caught Kelli glance in his direction and smile at him. For some reason that seemed to calm him. He saw them get up from their table and come toward him.

Oh, shit, he thought, what could he do! He felt frozen in his seat.

"Honey, this is Jared. Say hello," said Kelli.

"Hi," was all he could muster.

"Hi back atcha man. Mind if I borrow this little honey for a while?"

"Yes, honey, we're going to get a room for a while; Jared's going to fuck me. I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?"

"Uh-okay," he heard himself say. His humiliation was total. But his cock was stiffer than the trunk of an oak tree.

"'kay," said Kelli, as she and Jared turned to go.

It was only an hour and a half before Kelli returned. Jared led her back to the table, from which Henry had not moved in that time, and pulled out her chair out for her before waving his thanks and goodbye.

Kelli looked at her husband of twenty-two years and smiled benevolently. "You okay," she said.

"I guess. I feel funny," he said.

"I know. I do too," she said. "But, you're a cuckold now, Henry. You're my good little cuckold slave. You understand that, right? I hope you feel good about us, baby. I want you to. I do."

"I think I do," he said.

"Let's go," she said.

**

In the car it was silent as both hot wife and cuckold hubby assessed their respective feelings.

As they climbed the stairs to their room, Henry watched the gorgeous behind of his wife sway going up the stairs. Gawd she was beautiful, and he would never be able to fuck her again. The thought was terrifying, yet exciting too.

She felt his gaze and looked back. "Come on, dear heart, and get your reward."

His emotions raced. He almost tripped on the stairs catching up with her.

In the room, she slipped out of her dress; her panties were gone. She noticed that he noticed. "Jared asked if he could have them. He fucked me so good that I just couldn't deny him," she said.

"Oh."

"Come here silly and take off your clothes.

He did as she commanded.

"It's time to begin learning your place, dear heart. I want you to lay down on the bed. I'm going to sit on your face and you're going to eat me out, and I mean eat me out. I don't want any of Jared's cum left inside of me when you are done. Okay?"

He paled. Another man's cum! He'd never even tasted his own. "I don't—"

"Silly boy, you have no choice. Okay. Just do it. You'll get used to it. Consider yourself in training," she said giggling.

He lay down on the bed as she directed. She took off her bra and looked at him for a moment. Your little stiffy is excited I see," she said. "I'm glad. I want this to be good for you too." She crawled up on the bed and mounted him facing his engorged cock. She lowered herself onto his face and felt a shock as his lips made contact with her sodden pussy. "Oh my," she whimpered.

Henry, for his part was slow to get into it, but he was soon lapping her pussy with a fervor that bordered on the ferocious. She orgasmed in minutes. She orgasmed again in but a few more minutes. She could sense he was wearing down.

Cleaned out, and satisfied, she dismounted her slave boy, and knelt beside him and considered his stiff five-inch member.

"Honey," said Henry, "are you okay?"

She turned to face him. "Why, what a considerate thing to say to me. I do believe that I'm in love with you, my little cuckboy. Yes, I'm fine, and I hope you are too. I think we're going to do fine."

She took his cock in her right hand and his balls in her left, lowered her face to the purple head in front of her and engulfed it greedily. She sucked for some time before he began to shudder and she took all of his cum into her mouth and swallowed.

"Was that good for you?" she asked.

"Is that a serious question?" he retorted.

She lay beside him spooning him. It had been a good night, and a good beginning. What the future held was only vaguely in focus at that moment, but she had every reason to feel optimistic. After all, she already had stage two of this new and strange relationship in the works; and it promised to be a whole lot of fun!

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 2 by: Matt Moreau

The day after their adventure at the Crossroads, Kelli and Henry were both feeling antsy. Kelli perhaps the more so, she was concerned about the effect the events of the previous evening would have upon her husband. To all appearances, things looked okay, but what might be festering under the surface was still a question for her, a major concern in point of fact.

Henry, for his part, was feeling strange as well but for totally different reasons. First was the realization that his cock would never again feel the inside of a woman's pussy. That had him shaking in his boots; he wondered if he could ever learn to deal with such a reality. Still, on the other hand, he had been and remained thrilled by the scene he had witnessed. His humiliation had been uncomfortable, but he knew enough to realize that that was what it was all about, a big part of it at any rate.

For her part, Kelli was already hatching a plan to take their new relationship to the next level. She was cognizant that to her would fall the responsibility to take the initiative for all future decisions in her family, at least all of the major ones. In switching roles with her, Henry had abdicated all responsibilities except those she mandated for him. Such was both a boon and a bane, she thought to herself; but, she was sure, that as time progressed, she could make it work, and besides, Henry would soon be doing all of the household chores and virtually all of the go-fer work; he was her virtual slave after all. The thought made her smile. Her husband had turned out, after so many years, to be a candyass; but, he was her candyass and a lovable one. Yes indeed, this could work, she decided.

He toyed with his food. He looked up at her just as she was shoveling a shrimp from her salad into her mouth. "Can we talk?" he said.

"Yes, I think we need to," she said.

"So, what's next? Are we okay? How do you feel? How do we feel…"

"Whoa, horsey," she said. "As for how we feel, I think we feel good; yes, I think we're okay. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I think so. It's hard to describe, but I don't feel bad if that makes any sense."

"I know what you mean. I'd say the same goes for me."

"So—what's next?" he said.

"I've been thinking about that, and I have an idea."

He nodded for her to continue.

"We're going to a party. The Marston's are having one at the end of the week. It's a company function."

"Hmm, okay, but you're not thinking of—"

"Yes, I will hook up with one of the men there and do him," she said.

"But Kelli, those are people we know, and I don' think…"

"No, it's people I know. And I do think it's a good idea. Yes, it will be humiliating for you; I am sure of that, but it's what I want, and it's what we are going to do. I'll be telling you more about it after I have thought it out a bit more; but you can plan on going and maybe even participating in some way; I'll have to see about that."

Henry was very concerned about being humiliated and exposed for what he now was, his wife's cuckold wimp. Being cuckolded and humiliated in front of her friends and business associates was going to be tough to deal with; but, that being undeniably true, he was nevertheless feeling a twinge of excitement rising in his pants at the thought of it happening to him. What she was going to let him do or participate in was something he was hoping against hope that he was going to like, but then, that was her decision too.

At work the next day, Kelli gave her boss, Ida Marston, her affirmative RSVP as to their attending the party: she and Henry would be there.

"Good, Kelli, I was hoping you'd be able to make it. You can just wear jeans and cowboy hats if you've got 'em," she said. It's gonna be kind of a theme thingy, but nothing too elaborate," said Ida.

Ida Marston had only the day before decided to make it a quasi "theme" party. She'd been inspired to do so after having seen the Caulfields at the Crossroads the night before; they had not seen her—thank gawd! She was just waiting for the right time to talk to Kelli. She, Kelli, was a valued employee. That she was clearly cuckolding her husband amused her. That she was cuckolding her own husband Clarence, was a secret, closely held for the past eleven years. She had never dared share her secret with anyone; now maybe, she had found the soulmate she needed to do just that with. What a relief that would be, she thought. But, she needed to go slow and easy.

"Kelli," said Ida, "do you think we could have a drink after hours today. I mean if your hubby wouldn't mind."

Kelli eyed her boss. "Sure, he has a meeting. It's going to be a late show for him, but…"

"Well good, it's nothing all that important, but it's kind of a celebration for me, and I'd like to share it with someone, I mean if you're available. You know if Henry, it is Henry isn't it, wouldn't mind."

"Sure. And no, Henry won't mind my going out at all, I assure you," said Kelli.

Ida smiled, she knew exactly what Kelli meant. Cuckold slaves had no say in their wives' social universe. "Great. I know a little place a couple of miles from here. It'll be quiet at that time of day, and we can talk and throw a couple back," she laughed.

"Sounds good," said Kelli. "What's the place called?"

"The Crossroads."

Kelli felt a sudden chill. "The—"

"The Crossroads. You know it?" said Ida, relishing the other woman's momentary discomfort.

Kelli decided it wouldn't be a good idea to lie. She'd be scored for it later if she did. No, she'd just say yes and let it go at that.

"Yes. Been there recently," she said.

"Good, you can follow me, then, and I won't have to worry about you getting lost," she said.

**

In the car Kelli was concerned. Why the Crossroads? She didn't believe in coincidences, and this was one helluva coincidence! Had she and Henry been seen? Had Ida seen them? No, it couldn't be. If she and Henry had been seen, she would have seen Ida and her husband, whom she had met; the place wasn't that big. She pulled into the parking lot. Ida's Lexus was already there. She grabbed her purse and went inside.

Ida'd been right: there were few customers at 4:30. The place wasn't exactly empty, but apart from a soulful tune emanating from the ancient jukebox, there would be little to interrupt the little celebration Ida had mentioned. She saw her boss seated in a back booth. She motioned her over. Kelli smiled, walked over, and slid into the booth.

"I took the liberty of ordering you a glass of champagne," said Ida.

"Champagne would be great," said Kelli.

They talked for some minutes before Kelli noticed her boss turning her glass 'round and 'round in manner that indicated she had something on her mind. She was pretty sure she knew what it was, and her heart sank.

"You saw us didn't you," said Kelli, throwing caution to the winds. If she was going to be fired, so be it. Her private life was hers, and she was not going to compromise on that score regardless. Everyone knew the Marstons were ultra conservative and strict about appearances on the job. Well, whatever, what was, was.

The other woman stopped turning her glass. "Yes."

"Okay, I get it," said Kelli, and she rose to go.

"Where are you going?" asked Ida.

"I'm saving you the trouble," Kelli, "I quit."

"What? Quitting? Why?"

Kelli stopped moving. "You aren't going to fire me?"

"Hell no! I asked you to come to celebrate with me. Really!"

"But, I thought…"

"You thought I was going to object to your behavior with those men last night. Hell no." said Ida.

"I probably should have let you know I was there, but I was interested and didn't want to disturb your privacy," continued Ida.

"But you weren't there. I didn't see you," said Kelli. "I would have seen you."

Ida smiled broadly. "I clean up pretty good if I make the effort," she said. "I was only two tables away from you. I not only saw you, I heard some of your talk with Henry. You're cuckolding your husband. I've been around quite a bit, Kelli, I know a thing when I see it."

"Geezsus, you must think I'm—we're—perverts," she said.

"Well, if you are, my husband and I are too," she said.

"You mean—"

"Yes, for many years. I know the ropes. It was clear to me that you were beginners, you and your Henry."

"First time," said Kelli feeling very foolish.

"Figured," said Ida.

"But, I brought you here to celebrate," she said.

"Okay, I'll bite, celebrate what?" said Kelli.

"The fact that I have finally found someone to share my secret, too talk to" said Ida, and she laughed out loud. It was a laugh of relief.

Kelli laughed too finally feeling some relief of her own.

"But, seriously," said Ida, "how did you and your hubby get into it if I may ask?"

"You may ask. Henry came up with the idea. I think he'd been surfing the net, and something clicked in him and he laid it on me. That, and a talk he had with a friend whose wife had recently dumped him after seventeen years of marriage."

"Wow. I watched him more than I did you the other night if you want to know. You were gone for quite awhile anyway, so he was all I had to watch."

"Yes, can I ask, was he okay? I was worried about him even though it was his idea," said Kelli.

"He did some hand wringing. I'm sure his tummy was doing flip-flops thinking of that guy getting into your pants. But, he weathered the storm. He had a couple more drinks as I recall. He must have been a bit on the tipsy side by the time you got him home, I would think," said Ida.

"No, not too much so. I rewarded him when we got home. He was content, I think, after I finished with him."

"Interesting. May I make a suggestion?" said Ida.

"Yes, sure," said Kelli.

"Were you thinking of doing one of the guests at the party Saturday?"

Kelli flushed. "Yeah, I guess," she said. "But, I'll back off now. I don't want to do anything to mess things up for you."

"Hmm, did you have anybody in mind?"

"No, not really. Maybe Carlos. He's a big guy and he might be hung, if you know what I mean," said Kelli.

"How about you bang James Laughton instead."

"James? Mr. religious nut?"

"Oh yeah, well for sure he has a dick of biblical proportions and he can last an hour, I swear," laughed Ida.

"You let him do you? James?"

"Oh my yes, and I made my husband so jealous that night that it actually made him pray, my husband that is," said Ida. She was giggling so hard now that she spit champagne all over the front of her blouse.

"Geez, okay, James it is," said Kelli.

"How much do you know about the cuckolding lifestyle?" said Ida.

"I've been doing a bunch of research, but apart from that…"

"Let me fill you in," said Ida.

"Yes, please do," said Kelli.

"A cuckold is a helpless puppy who will do anything for a smile or a pat on the head from his wife. The more you humiliate and punish him, the better it is for him. It's all a matter of trying to gain the wife's approval. Are you going to keep him celibate?"

"Celibate? You mean no sex?" said Kelli. "Yes. I've told him he will never enter my pussy or any other pussy ever again now that he is an official cuckold."

"Good start. But you need to control his relief as well," said Ida. "You need to keep him horny all of the time. That's the power we hold over our men: if they're horny, they're helpless."

"But, I can't be there all of the time. He's gonna masturbate. It may not be much, but it will give him relief."

"Yes, it would, unless you lock him in a cock cage that makes it impossible for him to get hard."

"A cock cage?"

"Yes, my man is in one and wears it 24-7. I let him out for hygienic and health reasons once or twice a month. The rest of the time he is climbing the walls with desperation, doing whatever he can to please me so that I will grant him mercy."

"What a delicious idea," said Kelli, "but cruel." She giggled and tried not to choke on her drink. "Where can I get one of these torture devices?"

"Finish your drink. We'll go get one for you now," said Ida. "After all, soulmates have to help each other when they can."

**

The drive to the adult bookstore was short. The plain storefront with just the simple words: "Adult Books and Toys," belied the wealth of contents within.

As they approached the counter, the man behind it smiled his recognition of Ida. "Hi, Ida, need something today?"

"No Charlie, but my friend does. We're looking for a cock cage."

Charlie eyed the newbie. "I have to ask ma'am, your husband's cock…"

"Oh, about five inches, and kinda thick," she said, catching his meaning.

Charlie smiled and turned to check some things under the shelf behind him. "This look like it might fit him?" he said. He held the item out to her. It was wrapped in a sealed plastic container, but she smiled her affirmation that it would do.

"Looks like a winner, Charlie," said Ida.

"What are those over there?" said Kelli looking around at some of the other things displayed behind the counter.

Ida and Charlie both laughed. "Those are butt plugs. You fit it into your husband's ass either for punishment or training, or maybe both," said Ida.

"And that? Never mind I know what that is; it's a strap-on cock."

"You got it girl," said Ida.

"Need a paddle or a cane?" asked Charlie.

"A paddle? Cane?"

"To spank your man with," said Ida.

"There will be times when you will need to punish him. A good sound spanking is one way to do it."

Kelli thought. "Yes, maybe the paddle," she said.

"May I make a suggestion," offered Ida.

"Of course," said Kelli.

"If you're going to get something to spank him with, get the cane. It makes almost no noise when you spank him, and that can be a really good thing if you have guests in the house or children and his punishment won't wait. You can hear the paddle a block away, besides a paddle is harder for a woman to handle. And, believe me when I say, the cane stings like the very devil."

Kelli giggled some more. "Sold," she said. "I want one of each of the things I've mentioned."

Charlie started to bag the things she pointed to, including the five inch strap-on. "Just my husband's size," she laughed.

As she reached into her purse for her card, she noticed Ida examining some things on the wall behind them. She put the card on the counter and joined her boss. Charlie began to total her purchases.

"What in the world is that for!" exclaimed Kelli. "My gawd! it's a noose! Are you guys into executions too?"

Ida laughed and Charlie smirked.

"Hardly, girl. No, but it is a way for you to humiliate your husband to an extreme degree and put him deep into the zone."

"I don't understand," said Kelli.

"Well, I sometimes use one on my husband. I have a hook in the ceiling in our bedroom. And I have a cast iron chair with arm rests; I had it made for me. The heavy chair won't slip or tip over, so it's safe," said Ida.

"Safe for what"

"Well, sometimes, when I let my man watch, I make him stand on the chair with the noose around his neck and his wrists and ankles tied very tightly while my lover uses me. Sometimes he is up there for hours while I make love. It is a major turn on for him. Believe it or not, it was originally his idea."

"My gawd, I can just see Henry strung up like that, helpless while I do my man."

"Yes, it's pretty erotic. Question?" said Ida

"Yes?"

"Are you going to allow Henry to watch while James uses you?"

"Not sure. He and I are newbies. I don't want to spook him," said Kelli.

"You won't. Not if you lock him in that cock cage until after the party. He'll do anything for you and glad to do it if you keep him horny," said Ida.

"That's true," said Charlie giving her back her card.

At home she put everything that she had purchased away except the cage. She waited for her husband to get home from work. She knew he'd be late; it was one of those three martini meetings that he sometimes had when special clients were in town. She wondered if he ever cheated on her at those meetings or after them. Well, with what he would soon be wearing the question would be damn near academic.

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 3

by: Matt Moreau

The men seated around the table were the chieftains of the insurance industry in the state. They were also drunk and they were also staring unabashedly at the naked girl making love to the pole on the stage.

"Whaddya think gentlemen, could Henry get her to go down on him," said the distinguished looking man in the three thousand dollar suit.

"Not a chance, John," said the sycophant sitting to the gentleman's right. "Not without paying for it."

"Jerry, I think you're wrong. I think our guy could get her to do it. Whaddya say, Henry? Hell you got us to sign the contract for the coverage, and we're a pretty tough sell. Think you could sell that girl on a little R&R;?" said John Raulerson.

"Mr. Raulerson…"

"Call me John, Henry. You got a thousand dollar bonus, on the spot, if you can do it."

"John, my wife…"

"She's not here, Henry. What are you pussywhipped or somethin'?" said Jerry.

The three other men at the table just snickered and drank while the tableau played out.

The table was suddenly silent. Henry was sweating. To do what they asked, he'd have to betray his wife. If she ever found out—he didn't want to even think about it.

John took out his check book. "Forget what I said, Henry. Here's ten thousand if you can get her to screw you."

Henry looked at the man like he was crazy. But ten thousand dollars! He and Kelli weren't by any means poor, but ten thousand dollars was not silly putty by any standard. "Well, I…"

"Go for it, Henry. We're your witnesses. Get her to fuck you, and I will add another five grand to John's offer," said Michael Strahan.

"I'm in too," said Willy Kirkland. "That makes twenty grand if you score, against nothing if you don't. You gotta go for it."

"Okay," said Jerry, "count me in for another five Gs. That's twenty-five, hot rod. But, none of this no risk shit on your part. If you don't score, you gotta suck our dicks, and that with the rest of us watching you do it. Think you got what it takes, hot rod?"

Henry's pride was hurt. He wavered. Kelli would never know, he kept telling himself. "Fuck you, Jerry, I'll do it. It will be a pleasure to take your money," he said.

The other men left the table and headed for the bar leaving Henry alone with the pole dancer. "Got a name, girl," he said as she passed him on the stage.

She eyed him and seemed interested. "Jessica," she said as she danced away.

He kept his eye on her and mouthed words the men at the bar could not read, but the girl could. Soon, the horrid music stopped and the next girl came on stage and Jessica slipped out. Henry followed her.

As Jessica was about to leave the bar, Henry caught her at the door. "Got a minute?"

She turned to see him. "Whatcha want mister?" she said.

"An hour or so of your time," he said.

"You do? Why?"

"You can't guess?"

"I guess I can," she said. "You gotta room?"

The other men stood agape as the two, Henry and the girl, made for the door. "If he pays her, he loses," said a bitter Jerry. They others nodded their agreement.

"He won't pay her," said John, "not with money anyway."

John Raulerson was a self-made man. Some said a billionaire. But, what no one doubted was his business acumen or competitive skills. What he said was always taken seriously. He made few mistakes, and this bet was not one of them. He had an ulterior motive: he wanted Henry's wife for a night on the town, and he knew just how to get her: the way he always did everything, by playing hardball.

He'd been thinking about her and scheming to get her since he'd met her at some party several months earlier. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Much as he actually liked Henry, and even his company, he never would have signed a contract with them had it not been for his obsession with Kelli. She'd rebuffed his clumsy and drunken attempts to feel her up as they danced that night. Well, he decided, he was going to do a helluva lot more than feel her up next time they met.

Kelli was pretty still at her wage forty-one. Petite, dark eyes, tight waist, and her sexy butt complemented everything else. Her subtle personality and obvious intelligence didn't hurt either. She was one in a baker's million. Henry, John thought to himself, was nowhere near being in his wife's league.

**

Henry lay on the bed still clothed, as he watched Jessica take her things off, slowly, sensually. Gawd, she was pretty, he thought. Blond, slim, bare pussy, tiny breasts; at age nineteen, as he had discovered, she had not as yet let the night life ruin her physically.

She came to him, straddled his body and began unbuckling his pants. Soon, she had them off and was playing with his cock. She bent low to take it into her mouth. It felt wonderful, and he said so aloud. The man holding the glass to the wall in the adjoining room smiled broadly. John Raulerson was going to have his way with Kelli Caulfield.

In his room, Jessica rolled off Henry letting his cock spring back to its ninety degree position relative to his body. Lost in lust, Henry rolled on top of her. He insinuated his leg between hers and spread her wide enough to take her. He mounted her and pushed gently, entering her. He began screwing her slowly, and after some minutes, more forcefully. He pumped her wildly now finally stiffening and collapsing on her body like a sack of wet cement.

"That was real good, cowboy. I actually came. Hope it was good for you too," she said.

He nodded, too fatigued to form words that made any sense. He thought of Kelli, and what she would say if she ever found out. He put the image out of his mind. The girl got dressed, but not in too much of a hurry; she didn't want to make him feel bad. But, she had to get home to her worthless, boyfriend; it was getting real late. The asshole was probably drunk and would probably hit her, but at least she'd gotten her rocks off; there was an element of revenge in that, she thought.

"Thanks, Jessica. It was good," he said as he closed the door gently behind her.

Two minutes later John Raulerson knocked on his door. "Here are the checks, Henry; you earned 'em. Got to tell you, I really didn't think you'd score; but it was worth the money to see you do it," he said. He handed the man the five checks. "Oh, Jerry Wollcott is real bitter about being outclassed by you tonight. I wouldn't be wantin' to be around him much for a while," said John as he headed back to his own room.

Henry, picked up the phone and dialed home. "Hi honey, it's me… Yeah I'll be stayin' in town tonight… yeah, I got a room… 902 at the Esquire… Yeah, first thing in the morning… Love you too."

He hung up and thought about the woman he'd just talked to and that he had just cheated on. He wanted to run home, fall on his knees, and beg her forgiveness; but that would have taken balls. Henry Caulfield was bereft of his.

**

It was two weeks later that Henry Caulfield's world collapsed.

"Hi honey," he said, putting his briefcase down and shucking his coat.

Kelli sat stone-faced and silent for the moment. She pushed an envelope toward him across the dinette table.

He looked at her, at it. He picked it up. He opened it, saw the contents, and paled.

"If you tell me you can explain, I will divorce you forthwith. I have already called my lawyer. I just want to know why. Only that," she said. She went silent again and waited.

"We were drunk. It was a bet. Raulerson and the rest of them…"

"John Raulerson?

"Yes, but—"

"He's the one who delivered the package," she nodded toward the envelope.

It was clear to him now. Raulerson had screwed him, set him up; probably paid the girl too. But, Kelli was not willing to hear him now; he was lost, or so he thought. For the next ten minutes he unloaded himself of everything he could remember, including his wanting to run home and beg her forgiveness.

"It was Raulerson who made the bet. I mean set it up?" asked Kelli.

Henry nodded. His eyes were on the floor tiles; he couldn't face her. If had been able to, he would have seen a glint of understanding in her eyes.

"Look at me, Henry. I believe you. I think you were set up. Do you remember your company party last Fourth of July?"

"Yes."

"Remember me telling you how a man pawed me and I cut him low and sent him off talking to himself?"

"Oh yeah, I remember. So?"

She stared at him as at a little boy. Her husband couldn't be that dense.

"You mean! Him!"

She nodded. Well, maybe her Henry wasn't that dense, but he better forget about taking up chess.

"He wants me, and he was setting you up to be ruined if I turn him down again. The irony of that is just too hilarious to believe; he could have had me now, with our new arrangement, had he merely asked. Of course, in his defense, he wouldn't have known that. Well, it's time for him to pay the piper, and you too pussy."

"But, I thought…"

"You still cheated on me, asshole. But, I will forgive you eventually. I will forgive you because you are just a man and too weak or ignorant or hormone driven to help yourself. But I promise you, I am going to punish you before this is over, and you can take that to the bank. Got it!"

"Yes, ma'am," he said. For some reason he felt warm and safe now, even though he knew he was in for it.

"Where are those checks? I want them."

He went to his brief case and pulled them out. He brought them to her. She took them and went to the desk across the room. She found a marker and defaced every one of the checks. They were worthless now, but the evidence was not destroyed; she'd need them for what she had planned later on down the road. John Raulerson may have thought he had won, but that was going to prove less than correct; he had messed with the wrong pussy.

"Now, asshole, get busy and clean the kitchen, and I better like the result. Got it!"

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Oh, and before you do, come here."

He obeyed her.

"Get down on your knees."

Again, he obeyed her.

She turned her back to him. "Lift my dress and pull down my panties."

She felt him do his duty. "Now lick my anus, cuckold, and do a good job."

Were someone to have described Henry Caulfield at that moment, the words that must have come to mind must have included grateful, fervent, and busy! Never had a woman had so active a butt licker as had Kelli Caulfield at that moment. Her slave was once more under her thumb, and it felt real good.

"From now on, butt licker, when I say do your duty this will be what I mean. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, now do your chores."

**

"It's me, Ida… "Yes, thanks, I enjoyed it too… It was very enlightening… No, I called about something else. I need your help… I need you to invite someone to the party… John Raulerson… Yes, it's 555 1279… tell him Kelli Caulfield gave it to you… Great, thanks a million, Ida."

The die was cast. This was going to be fun, she told herself. Well, it was going to be fun for her, and maybe her little puppy dog; but not for Mr. Raulerson.

**

The afternoon of the party Kelli had her cuckold helping her dress. For his part he was naked and very aroused as he worked her nylons up her slender legs. She'd have to do something about his hardon. Her gift wouldn't fit with it in its current state. Ida had said ice packs would cure the problem, or, she had also said, she could just spank him. That always worked with her husband. She considered the spanking, but no, that could wait for another day; she had plans for her strap and her cane's virginity.

"Get me a bucket of ice, cucky," she said as she brushed on her makeup.

"The champagne too?" he asked.

She smiled at his ignorance of what was about to happen to him. "No, cucky, the ice is not for that. Just get me the ice bucket, okay."

"Yes, ma'am." He shuffled off to do her bidding.

Returning with the ice, he set it down on the end table near the bed. "This okay?"

"Yes, my little cuckboy, it's fine," she said.

Finished applying her makeup, and looking like a million bucks, Kelli came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Come here," she said.

She took a towel she had sitting by her and placed a half dozen cubes of ice on it. "Come closer," she said. He did so.

"Hmm, got a major problem here don't we, baby, I mean with our peepee." She picked up the towel with the cubes on it, reached it under his cock and balls and wrapped his jewels in it.

"Geezsus! That's cold Kelli!" he said.

"Now, be good. Of course it's cold, silly, it's ice. I need to get your erection unerected, okay? Just do as I say and grin and bear it. It'll be over soon. It's not like I'm spanking you or anything." She giggled at her own attempt at humor. "I could spank you if you prefer," she said. "That would get it down, I assure you."

"No-no, that's okay. The ice is fine."

She laughed at his sincerity.

His cock began to sag and soon it was shrinking back into his body.

"Good," she said. She reached under the covers of the bed and took out the cock cage.

"What's that?" he asked. But he knew.

"It's your chastity device, dear" she said. "You'll be wearing it most of the time from now on."

"But, Kelli! I can't…"

"But oh, I assure you that you can," she said, "and you will. Now be my obedient little cuckboy and hold still while momma locks you up nice and tight."

She threaded his penis into the nylon tube and encircled his scrotum with the ring. She inserted the pins and then the tiny padlock, clicking it shut and sealing his fate.

"Honey, I'm afraid," he said.

"It's okay, Henry, I'll protect you. You need this. From now on you will have to earn your chances to cum. But, don't worry, you will get to have it off from time to time, but mostly you will be locked up just as you are now. Consider it part of your punishment for cheating on me. You know you deserve it," she said, "so accept your fate and prove to me that you're sorry."

"Yes ma'am," he said.

She ignored him. "Now do your duty," she said. And she turned around presenting her backside to him.

He knelt behind her and lifted her dress and pulled down her panties. He parted her butt cheeks and kissed her lovingly on her anus. During the next few minutes he licked and did his best to drive his tongue inside of her. She cooh'd and oh'd the whole time as he adored her.

"That's enough, now get dressed and meet me down stairs. I don't want to be late; she said.

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 4

by: Matt Moreau

Kelli and Henry arrived early; Ida had asked them to; she wanted to give Kelli the low down.

After greeting Ida, and reintroducing Henry to his hostess, Ida called her husband Clarence over to introduce him to Henry.

"Clarence, now that you've been introduced, please show Henry around, and maybe get him a drink or something, won't you," said Ida.

"Yes dear, of course," said Clarence. The pair of cuckold husbands headed for the patio.

**

"Yes, I got through to him and he's real interested in coming, or he was after I told him that you gave me his number. He's gonna be late though; said he had a meeting. I think it's just that he wants the party to be winding down a little when he gets here. He wants you right enough though; that was easy to tell," said Ida.

"Good. I want the horny bastard to be primed to go. I have plans for his miserable ass," said Kelli.

"You really gonna let the asshole screw you?"

"Oh yes, and I am getting the whole show live and in color. Were you able to get it set up?"

"Sure, but I tell you, I am not sure this is all a good idea, Kel" she said.

"It'll be fine, and more fun than I've had in a long time," she said.

"It will be deliciously nasty," said Ida, warming to the idea. "La Femme rules!"

"Definitely," chimed in Kelli

**

"Has your wife told you anything about us, I mean about me and my wife?" said Clarence.

"No, just that they work together," said Henry.

"Hmm, that's what I thought. Well, Ida said I could clue you if you weren't already in the know," said Clarence.

"The know?"

"Yes. I'm my wife's cuckold too," he said. "She told me a bit about you and your wife, so there is no need for us to spar. We're both in it for the duration.

"You're new to the lifestyle as I understand it. That true?" asked Clarence.

"Yes, brand new. Just the past week or so, but, I have already been cuckolded: last Saturday night as a matter of fact," said Henry.

"How do you feel about it, now that it's been done to you?" said Clarence.

"Okay, I guess. It's strange. I know it's going to be hard sometimes," said Henry.

"Yes, it will be. Are you locked up yet?"

"Just this afternoon for the first time. I mean I suppose you are referring to my cock cage," he said.

"Yes, that's it. I have to wear one too. Nine years now. Ida let's me out maybe a couple of times each month. But, I've gotten used to it. It's my fate as a cuckold. It'll be yours too. Take my advice, serve your wife as best you can and don't whine when she takes a lover; just obey her. Some of them will think that they're in love with her, and she may think she's in love with one or another of them. But she will always come back to you, if you use your head, believe me. Ida may have cuckolded me, but that doesn't mean that I parked my brain in the closet. Anyway, obedience will make your life a ton easier, trust me on that one," said Clarence.

"I kinda figured that," said Henry. "I think she is going to take a lover tonight, I don't know. She said she would, but there are some other things going on too, so I don't know for sure. How about your Ida? Is she planning on doing some guy tonight?"

Clarence held up his hands as if to say who could guess.

**

Kelli and the cucks helped Ida get things put out and around for the party. Guests started arriving at 7:00 and conversation and laughter reverberated around the compound. And it was a compound.

The house was large five bedrooms. In addition to the house itself there was a pool house for changing and lounging—and making out, Ida had laughed as they put out appetizers on the tables inside of it.

Likewise there was a small guest house at the back of the two acre lot. It was a simple one room affair, but comfortable. Clarence had suggested it for those occasions when this or that relative came to stay for more than a night or two; the Couple prized their privacy. Over the years it had proved worth the building.

By 7:30 there were more than fifty people milling around and socializing. The gathering was noisy but the good kind of noisy.

Roberta Kennedy was gorgeous. She wore a terrific looking Kelly green skirt, far too short to hide anything if she bent over, and a blouse with a plunging neckline that threatened to expose her breasts to the world at large.

Clarence had lost sight of his compadre who had gone to get them another drink. He took the opportunity to approach Roberta who had temporarily been abandoned by her husband Jack.

"Hi, all by your lonesome?" said Clarence to the gorgeous brunette. "Careful of the ceiling fans in the house." Clarence laughed.

"Excuse me?" said Roberta. Clarence knew he'd blown it. He stuttered unintelligibly. "I mean your hair—I mean it's beautiful—I mean I didn't mean…"

"Pardon me, Clarence, I see my husband over there; I need to go."

He stood there with his head four feet up his ass wondering why it was dark! Gawd, if this got back to Ida, he was more than dead! Fuck-fuck-fuck- he muttered under his breath.

He saw Roberta speaking to her husband. He saw the big man's visage darken. He was dead. At that worst of all possible moments things got even worse. Ida joined the couple. Their conversation was animated. Ida seemed to be succeeding in calming the rising tide of anger in Jack's demeanor. The Kennedys broke off and joined the rest of the party.

Ida looked about and sighted her husband. She crooked her finger at him, beckoning him; then, she pointed toward the house. He wanted to vomit. It was going to be bad, very bad.

**

As Ida and Clarence came into the house, James arrived. She told Clarence to wait, and she grabbed James' arm before he could even say hello and led him out to the patio.

"James this is Kelli," laughed Ida.

"I know James, Ida; we work together almost every day," giggled Kelli.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," she laughed striding off and leaving the two of them alone.

"I hear you are more liberal than I thought," said Kelli.

"I guess you heard right," said James.

"I thought you were one of those religious nut cases," said Kelli.

"Nuts? Why? Because I believe in Jesus?" said James.

"Well, I mean—I just assumed…"

"You never asked, but I don't think Jesus is near as petty about what we do here on earth as the wackos and puritans would lead us to believe. I think sex, for one thing, is so good a thing that the more of it we engage in the better it is for us—in this life and in the next," he said.

"An original perspective for sure," said Kelli. "I guess I am going to have to reevaluate how I think of you.

"Can I be frank, James?" she said.

"No, I like you better as Kelli," he said laughing at his own attempt at humor.

"Funny."

"But, yes of course, be frank—but with a small 'f'—if it's all right," said James.

"Ida says she's fucked you?"

"She didn't lie, and her husband was okay with it. He didn't get to watch, but I hear he wanted to," said James.

Kelli giggled. "She says your cocksmanship is very good," said Kelli. "Wanna fuck me?"

He stood stock still. He gazed at her heaving breasts, her wide hips, and the hollowish indent in her skirt at the base of her tummy. She was dressed sexily but not whore-ishly in a tight black skirt and blouse with a matching choker. She also smelled fantastic.

"Damn straight," he said.

"Good, but I want your best efforts, okay. I am really in the mood for a good screwing," she said. "Average won't cut it."

"Absolutely," he said. "But, what about your husband?"

"He's a cuckold too, like Clarence. He knows you're going to do me," she said. "In fact, I want to introduce you. Please," she indicated that he follow her across the patio to a small copse where a few chairs were situated one of which was occupied by her husband; no one else was present for the moment.

Kelli took James' hand and led him to her husband.

"Hi Henry, everything okay?" she said sweetly.

"Yes, I guess so," said Henry, looking up at the two of them as he sat there. He rose to do the mandatory handshake.

"James," said James.

"Henry."

"James is going to fuck me, Henry. Is that okay with you?"

Henry reddened. He was almost speechless, but not quite. "Uh—yes—I mean it's fine," he said.

"Oh don't be so nervous, baby, it's just sex. You're my little cuckold hubby, and I love you. But I hear that James here has a really nice cock to share. I'd let you watch, but I want to get to know James a little better first, and you being there, well—

"Are you okay, I mean is your cock cage too uncomfortable tonight," she teased. "Some of the ladies are awfully nice looking. I could understand it if your dick was trying to—well, you know."

"Yes, I'm okay. I guess," he said. "Have a good time." His words were lame, but in his scrambled frame of mind it was the best he could do.

"Thanks, baby. We won't be terribly long. Have a drink. Find Clarence and have a drink with him."

She didn't wait for her husband to respond. She was already pulling James toward the little guest house at the back of Ida and Clarence's yard. They laughed as they left him. He imagined that they were laughing at him.

Ida had arranged for Kelli and James to use the little house earlier in the day; the champagne was iced and there was even a plate of pate' in the fridge. Kelli would get fucked more than adequately by James' big cock and probably more than once and in more than one position, Ida knew. Ida was a little Jealous of her new soulmate. But oh well, she sighed, I'll just have to find someone else to lay me; she smiled at the delicious thought.

But, first Ida had to take care of the little matter of her husband's rudeness.

**

"You're a real stinker, Clarence, and now you're going to pay. Please go to the den and do so now," said Ida.

"But, Ida…"

"Clarence, You have really hurt Roberta's feelings. So, shut up and get to the den before I really sock it to you. I mean it!"

"I'm sorry. It was stupid. I'll go an apologize," he said. I'm just a stinking cuckold male, Ida, I'm sorry."

"Yes, dear, all true, but you may not apologize right now. You will go to the den and wait there for your punishment."

He nodded and slowly and reluctantly walked down the long hall to the stairs to the den below and to the corner that she'd expect him to be in as he waited for his date with the switch.

Clarence was standing in the corner with his pants off waiting for his wife to come and administer his spanking. How could he have been so stupid to make a comment about Roberta's big hair! He'd be lucky if his wife didn't flay him alive. In fact it was no better than 50-50 that she wouldn't!

He just wished it could be over and done with; he hated the waiting. His wish was granted; he heard her on the stairs.

"Well, my little man, I see you're ready to get what you deserve."

He said nothing. There was nothing to say, and for gawd's sake he didn't want to say the wrong thing; that would not be good!

"Come over here," she said. She was holding the waist chain with its wrist cuffs and ankle shackles.

Oh shit, he thought, he was really going to get it. Usually she just made him bend over. But, when she chained him up; it was always bad. Fuck! Why couldn't he just learn to shut the hell up! The irony was that he lusted after Roberta, and she knew it. It was that fact that had made him make that stupid joke: he was trying to get some attention from her. Well, he'd gotten it, and now he was in for it—big time.

He stood in front of her while she first fastened the steel chain around his waist. Next his wrists were cuffed so that he could do nothing with his hands; they were fastened close and tightly to his waist. Finally the chain dangled around his ankles and she adjusted them so that his legs were held close together making it impossible for him to take steps longer than six inches at a time.

"Turn around and bend over the back of the couch, Clarence," she said. "Wait," she said halting him from bending over. "I think I am going to tape you mouth shut first. Can't have the guests hearing your screams, can we," she said.

"Please, Ida, please, do I really deserve a bad one," he begged.

She raised an eyebrow. You most certainly do cuckie, and you are going to get one to remember, and that is an absolute fact. She signaled him to close his mouth so she could apply the duct tape to it. She effectively sealed off any chance he would have to cry out or scream.

The cane, she was going to employ, would not make any significant noise as it tortured his buttocks; and the duct tape made any noise from him, apart from the odd guttural squeal, all but impossible. He was doomed.

She retrieved her cane from the closet and strode back to him. She wasted no time in laying the first five lashes onto his exposed and naked butt. He jerked and spasmed furiously as she rained spank after spank on his helpless flesh.

Soon Clarence was crying and issuing muffled screams from behind the duct tape. He sprang up after almost every spank now praying wordlessly to gawd for mercy and a stop to his punishment.

It seemed like forever, but in reality his whipping consumed no more than six or eight minutes. But in that time he'd received at least fifty well aimed spanks on his ass. His flesh was aflame and bleeding in at least two places. Sitting would not be something he could contemplate for at least a day or two.

He had danced like a crazy man even with his ankles shackled and his wrists bound tightly to his waist chain. She had laughed at his predicament and his desperate attempts to communicate with her in spite of the impossibility of it. "Take your medicine," she told him more than once; "for once be a man."

As was her habit, Ida, having finished spanking him, left him bent over to meditate on the necessity of him taking his medicine and not complaining about it.

Finally, letting him up and unchaining him, she sent him back to his corner for some quality time with his conscience and his guilt. Relieved of the silencing tape, he bawled loudly, hissing his pain through dribbling lips, trying to will the fire in his buttocks to abate. He couldn't rub his wounded backside; that was a rule; it would earn him an encore if he even got near to his ass with his hands.

"All right, Clarence, you wait here. I am going to go get Roberta for you to apologize to her. When she comes in you are to get on your knees and beg her forgiveness; do not look her in the eye; she isn't going to want to see your little cuckie face; keep your eyes on her feet. Am I clear?

"Once she has finished with whatever she is going to say, you are to kiss her feet and then go back to your corner for the rest of the evening."

"Yes, ma'am," he sobbed trying to get hold of himself.

She felt a twinge of sympathy for her forlorn cuckold husband, but not enough sympathy to grant him any mercy. He had to pay for his mistakes. She turned to go get her offended friend.

**

Henry paced back and forth at the perimeter of the fence. He glanced numerous times at the dim light emanating from the little guest house. Every once in a while, he could discern distorted images moving in the shadows of the single room.

Never before in his life had he been more jealous nor more excited than he was at that moment. He needed to fuck his wife, but that avenue of release would never again be happening for him. The one night stand with Jessica was but a distant memory, though he was sure that he would be reminded of it more than once in future days.

Was he pumping her yet? Was she teasing his cock as she had his on other days? Was he kissing her, his wife? Something about kissing was fascinating for him. It was almost better than intercourse, more personal if that were possible, sweet. He went to look for Clarence.

"Hi, Ida. Is Clarence around? I haven't seen him in half an hour," said Henry.

"He's not available, Henry. He's being punished for rudeness. I'm only telling you so that you can learn from his mistakes."

"Punished?"

"Yes, I've just gotten done spanking him, and very hard at that. He deserved it believe me. Now, Henry, you're my escort for the next little while," she said.

The guests were dancing, and talking and drinking and generally living it up. All except for two cuckolds, each of each of whom had different but very difficult things to think about.

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 5

by: Matt Moreau

After they had left Henry, Kelli and James had strolled leisurely across the back lawn. The lawn covered almost a half an acre of manicured green; clearly the Marston's had money. Most of the party-goers were hanging around the patio. One or two couples were actually making it the bushes. But Kelli and James had the area near the guest house all to themselves, and James was smart enough not to be hurrying the proceedings any more than necessary.

Henry had watched them as they traversed the 100 feet or so between the edge of the patio and the guest house steps. He had seen James' hand slip from her shoulder to her butt and linger there for the rest of their walk. He had seen him open the door and wait for her to enter before following her in. Before the door closed he saw him take her in his arms and kiss her gently on the lips; it was clear that she was responding.

Henry had a moment of serious soul searching: had he done something seriously bad in insisting that Kelli cuckold him. Well, whatever was, was at this point; there was no going back. The door to the guest house closed behind the couple. After that it was only the shadows playing in the dim light of the little house that he could see; then there was not even that, nothing but vivid imaginings—his.

Kelli molded herself to James' body. The big man wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly; she felt safe and protected and deliciously vulnerable. It felt so good to her, as a matter of fact, that frightened her: she did not want to begin thinking of James as a replacement for her Henry. At the same time, she didn't want to give up the feeling she was feeling now; she was walking a very thin line between excitement and betrayal of her life's love; she'd have to be very conscious of her words and actions tonight, she thought, very conscious and very careful.

There is something very alluring in a well dressed and still dressed female. A naked female's body held no mystery, it was what it was: often beautiful but it is not mysterious. Mystery to James was a big piece of whatever it was that turned him on. He unbuttoned her blouse slowly and sensuously, but he did not take it off. His hand slipped inside of it and explored the bra and its treasures with his right hand. Kelli loved it and shivered as his hand slipped inside of the bra and massaged her bare flesh; her nipples were steel.

They kissed and thoughts of Henry suffering near the patio evaporated from her conscious mind completely. There were only two people in the world at that moment herself and the man unbuttoning her skirt and sliding the zipper slowly downward. Her skirt pooled at her feet.

He pushed her diminutive form backward onto the bed. Kelli smiled broadly as he just stood there looking at her. The cleft in her underpants was clearly distinguishable. In a short time he would be pushing his dick inside of her in that very spot.

"Like what you see, James," she said, her voice husky with lust.

"Like, doesn't even begin to describe my feelings in the matter," he said, his voice soft and hypnotic. "You aren't pretty, Kelli; you're stunning. Henry is the luckiest guy here tonight without a doubt."

She looked askance at him.

"Yeah, I'm the one getting into your pants," he said, understanding her look. "But, Henry will be taking you home, as he will every night. That has to be the greatest feeling in the world."

She just smiled at his appreciation of her. She thought about her Henry again. Yes, she thought, he was a lucky devil at that.

The big man slowly stripped off his shirt and pants, pushed his underpants to the floor and stood naked, his cock massive and threatening above her. She reached out and felt it lightly tickling him.

He got on the bed facing her and straddled her. She once again reached for his cock and played with it. He jerked spasmodically whenever she touched the glans.

"I'm real sensitive there," he said, "always have been."

He lay down beside her and fondled her breasts, kissing them, sucking on her nipples, and then kissing them some more.

He slid down her body and his face hovered above her slit and just looked at it for what seemed like minutes before kissing the cleft between the folds of her labia. He licked her. His tongue pressed for entry into her secret place. Soon he was licking and sucking a stiffened clit. Little cries of excitement escaped from Kelli's lips.

"My goodness, please enter me," she said. "I need to be fucked. I need it badly and I need it now. Please, for gawd's sake fuck me!"

He smiled at her and pushed his knee between hers in order to do her bidding. She spread her legs wide and waited for him to violate her. She didn't have long to wait. She felt him push at her slit and then push harder; he popped into her. He pulled out a little and pushed again. He repeated the process one more time and then plunged his whole nine inches into her.

"My gawd! I'm fucked!"

He pumped slowly at first enjoying the sensation of being inside of this beautiful woman. She wrapped her legs around his massive back and locked him place while he continued to screw her. He increased his tempo. Soon he was ramming her with everything he had, and he had a lot. Kelli screamed and stuttered and dribbled saliva from her parted lips. She came in waves; her breathing raspy and intermittent. A minute later her man unloaded a very large dose of cum into her pulsing vagina. He collapsed on top of her.

A minute or so later, he rolled off of her and lay quietly with his eyes closed. He really wanted this woman for himself. She wasn't good; she was the best.

Some minutes later, James was rolling off the bed. "I have to pee. I'll be right back." He slipped into the tiny bathroom of the guest house and did his duty.

Back in the room, Kelli lay curled up waiting for instructions from her man.

James leaned over and kissed her. "Turn over and put your butt high in the air," he said.

She obeyed him. She realized that he was hard again and ready to do her once more.

"Spread your knees," he said. "I am going to take you from behind."

Her female butt was high in the air, as her man had instructed. He knelt behind her, his knees between hers. She was completely vulnerable to him. Her second fucking was imminent.

He pushed into her sopping wet pussy. This time, he took his time screwing her. Her small voice was rent with guttural sounds of primal pleasure. She neared another climax and shivered as it ran through her. He couldn't see her face, but had he been able to, he would have been real happy with the sight: Kelli Caulfield was satisfied.

His last hurrah was punctuated with hammer blows to her backside and to her pussy. He had savagely fucked her for the second time.

Afterwards they lay quietly getting their breath and their bearings. It had been exceptional for the both of them.

"Nice," she said, "very nice."

"For me too."

Henry had indeed gotten himself a drink, actually four. He was not walking too straight, but he was thinking pretty clearly. Well, maybe not too clearly, but about Kelli for sure—and James. He began to cry. He wasn't loud about it, but the heaving of his chest would have been noticeable to anybody nearby. Fortunately no one was.

Just at that moment he saw his wife and James emerge from the little house. He tried to settle down; it wasn't easy. About half way to the patio, James leaned over kissed her on the cheek and headed for the crowd near the barbecue and disappeared among them.

Kelli came to James smiling. "How's my baby?" She stopped in her tracks, Henry—Henry—you've been crying!"

"No-no, Kel, I've just got something in my eye," he said not at all convincingly.

She looked at him lovingly. She knew what to do. She brought her hand to his cheek and caressed it. "Oh, how I love you," she said sincerely. "Calm down, okay."

"No-no, I'm okay, really," he said.

"I know you are my love," she said.

He was feeling a tiny bit better, but only a tiny bit.

"Henry, I know it's hard for you, but you are my cuckold now, my slave. You are still my husband too though, and I love you. But, you need to realize, that I will fuck James again, and maybe even be lovers with him for an extended time. And, maybe other men too. Do you understand, baby?"

"For how long, Kel? For how long? I'm frightened," said Henry.

Kelli could tell he was clearly hurting bad. She didn't want him hurting like that, but he had to learn his place, and his place was on his knees wishing he could have her, but knowing he never would again, not in the way he wanted. "Calm down, baby, please, I'm still with you, but tonight I was out with a real man, I mean sexually. Try and understand that. I know you're jealous, but that's just the way it has to be."

"But—"

"You want me to be happy don't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"My little cuckie," she said very sweetly. "We, you and I, are going to be fine. We have a lot of growing to do yet, but grow we will. Still, you have to remember your place. Can you try to do that?"

He nodded. He felt foolish. It had been his idea. And, overall it was working out. Sober and thinking straight he would know that, but he also knew that there was going to be a lot of painful days for him. Pain was a cuckold's lot, and he was just beginning to understand just how hard such a lot could be; it was as Clarence said it would be. "I can do it," he said finally.

"Thank you, baby, I know you can. Don't worry; you'll get your reward; just be patient. Okay?"

"Why don't you go find Clarence; you've neglected him, and have a nice talk while I find Ida and see if she needs anything. Okay?"

"I can't," said Henry.

Kelli looked at him strangely. "Can't?"

"Well, it's more like he can't, I mean Clarence," said Henry.

"And why is that?"

"Because his wife spanked him. I think she punished him for being rude to Roberta. He said something about her hair. He meant it as a joke. But—"

"I see."

"I guess Roberta didn't think it was funny, and she told her husband, who told Ida. I think Clarence is still in their bedroom. I don't think she is going to let him come out again tonight unless it's to apologize to Roberta maybe, but I'm not really sure," he said.

"How do you know all of this," said Kelli.

"I asked Ida where he was. I wanted to talk, like you suggested just now. I mean, you were with James, and, well, I needed someone to talk to who understood the way I was feeling. Anyhow, she told me she had spanked him and that he was in the bedroom. That's all she really said."

"She told you she'd spanked him?"

"Yes. I got the chills hearing her say that. Kelli, please don't spank me. I'm no good with pain," he said.

She touched his cheek again. The contact was so soft, so feminine that it made his heart race.

"Henry, I'm not mad at you. There will likely be times when I will have to spank you. If you get a spanking from me, it will be because you deserve it. Always remember, it is my duty to train you and cuckold you. Your duty is to obey me and love me. Can we do that?"

"Yes, ma'am, I guess so," he said.

"And, there is the little matter of you cheating on me. I do have to do something about that, Henry, I can't let it go, it's too big a thing. You understand that too, right?"

Though seemingly as impossible at it sounded to him, he had actually forgotten about his sin. He remembered it now, and he was ashamed of himself. "Yes, ma'am."

"Okay then, I won't leave you hanging for too long. I will punish you for the cheating incident soon and then it will be forgotten, I promise," she said.

**

For the next half hour, Henry followed his wife around like a puppy dog. He was introduced here and there, and she went easy on him, treating him almost like an equal: she was giving him a chance to settle down. Being the sheriff in a cuckold family was tougher than she'd originally thought it would be, but she was learning.

It was about 9:30, still early. John Raulerson was announced to the guests. No one really knew him except the Caulfield's, but he didn't care; he was there for one reason and one reason only: Kelli Caulfield.

"Call me JR," he said to Roberta Kennedy, as they made small talk by the patio bar.

Ida approached Kelli and Henry, "He's here."

Henry looked her askance. "Henry come with me, okay. Kelli has some business to take care of," said Ida.

"Uh, yeah sure," he said, allowing himself to be led off once again by his hostess.

Kelli smiled at her husband and joined Roberta and John Raulerson at the bar.

"Hello, Mr. Raulerson," said Kelli. "I see you made it."

"Not a chance I wouldn't," he said.

She smiled at his implied compliment. "Thank you," she said.

"I hear you're the one to thank for inviting me."

"I am."

Roberta, smiled perfunctorily and excused herself. She was glad for the chance. She'd known a dozen like this guy, and she had never liked any of them. What was to like; they and he were uncaring and selfish.

Ida drew Henry into the house. "She's gonna fuck him, Henry and send the video of it to his wife. The asshole set you up, so he is going to get some of his own medicine. Kelli intends to make it very bitter medicine too, trust me. Anyway, of all of the men in the world that Kelli might be willing to spread her legs for; he the last one for you to be jealous of. Just thought I'd tell you."

Henry nodded his appreciation and even managed a smile. He really would like to have been the one to get the bastard, but he didn't have the right equipment.

**

"Get it all?" said Kelli four hours later.

She'd screwed the bastard though he'd been less than thrilled that he was getting sloppy seconds. But she was so pretty and so alluring that he had to have her anyway. As for Kelli's assessment, he had turned out to be barely average in terms of his cockmanship, but, at least he hadn't smelled bad.

"Oh yeah," said Ida, "I already checked. His ass is in a sling for sure. The cheatin' asshole is going to be in a helluva lot of horse pucky when his wife gets hold of the goods we've got," she said.

Kelli smiled her satisfaction. "Good. And he wasn't a good fuck either," she laughed. "He cares only for himself, and I have no problem sandbaggin' him like that. The bastard has it coming, and now he's going to get it.

"Who get's copies?" said Ida.

"His wife of course. A couple of newspapers, especially the Herald; they hate him. And, it wouldn't hurt to send a copy to KSTV. They probably won't show it, but they might extract a couple of stills and show those. Who knows? Anyway, that's for tomorrow."

"Yeah," rejoiced Ida, "we still have some odds and ends to clean up tonight."

"Speaking of ends, Henry says you spanked Clarence. I was wondering why I hadn't seen him."

"Yes, it was while you were doing James. He insulted Roberta, Really hurt her feelings. It was one of those times when it couldn't wait. I took him into the den and gave him a good spanking. He danced like a wild man on PCP. I had to gag him. His screams would have wakened the deceased!"

"I've not spanked Henry yet. Of course I know that I have to pull his pants down and give it to him for cheating on me, but that can wait a bit. I think he is still pretty sensitive to his place in my life right now, so I am going easy until I can train him a bit more."

"You are absolutely correct in taking it slow," said Ida. "You do have to do him for his cheating on you though, as you say. Anyway, in the early days, I tried to rush things bit much. I was in a hurry to get some big fat cocks into this pussy, and well—it was too soon for me to be so rough with Clarence. He almost walked out in despair. He didn't though, and in time he learned his place.

"Not to change the subject, but how is Henry coping with his cock cage?"

"Gee, Ida, you know I just put it on him this afternoon. He's doing okay so far I can see. Give it a few days, and we'll see," she said.

**

The ride home was quiet and calm. Henry was tired, maybe more so than even Kelli, if possible.

They undressed quickly and hit the bed in the nude. Though very sleepy, Kelli decided to reward her man for his patience. She slid down his body, unlocked his cock cage and slid it off of him. She took his cock teasingly into her mouth and gave him a slow and loving blow job. It took a few minutes, but soon he was jerking and fighting to hold off from cumming, but it wasn't happening; he exploded into her mouth and she took it all.

"Feel good baby," she said.

"Gawd, yes!" he said. "I really needed that."

"I know you did," she said.

Just as they had gotten to the point of falling off, the phone rang. Kelli picked it up.

"Yes?… "James?… Yes it is late… I was just going to sleep… No that's all right… I forgive you… Saturday?" She looked over at her husband who was hearing only her side of the conversation, though it was clear what it was about. She smiled at him. "Yes, that would be fine… Fine… 8:00 then… See you then." She hung up.

"James is picking me up Saturday night, Henry. I guess he likes fucking me."

"Yes, dear," he said. The both slept hard.

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 6

by: Matt Moreau

It was raining. But, it was a gentle rain, and no wind. Kelli and Henry loved the rain. They'd met in the rain. It had been pouring that day at state university. She'd been caught out with too little on and the weather gods were not forgiving of such arrogance in mid-November. That had been twenty-three years ago.

Henry had waved her over to his car, and she'd jumped in. They barely knew each other, they'd had but one class together, but she was desperate to get into the dry. After that, one thing had led to another and three days after they both had graduated, in 1985, they were married. That seemed so long ago now.

After years of the archetypal vanilla marriage, Henry had sprung this cuckold thing on her. Now, she was really into it with Henry more tenuously so but now trapped.

Henry held an old-fashioned glass in his hand; in it were three fingers of hundred-proof Smirnoff. Mr. Smirnoff was his friend this evening.

Tonight James was going to take his wife again, in their own bed probably. He had hoped it would be but a one night stand, just the party, but that had not proven to be the case. Henry was very afraid that James was going to be one of the possessive types: somebody who might become a threat to his marriage. Henry was concerned.

"Henry? What are you doing?" said Kelli.

He turned around startled by her sudden appearance. He almost dropped his glass. "Kelli, you look pretty," he said, "very pretty."

"Thank you cuckie. I needed that."

She'd called him cuckie lovingly, but in a way that left no doubt about his place. He was little more than an adorable pet now that her lover would be coming around. He had to get used to the idea, not an easy task.

Kelli wore a strapless black sheath. Her tawny hair was all fluffed up cascading down to her shoulders. Her makeup, what little she wore, she'd never been much for a lot of makeup, was well done. As usual her scent was disturbing to the point of making it difficult for him to think of anything else but serving her. He did not know how James would react to it, but it most definitely would make it harder for him to think clearly either.

"Come on," she said, "help me with this necklace. James will be here any minute, and I don't want him to have to wait for me."

"There, that will do it," he said proud of himself for being able to help her with something else. He had bathed her, and set her clothes out. This little task, the necklace, was kind of the cherry on top. He loved being her slave.

"You're a good little man, cuckie. I love you." She kissed him on the cheek and it seared his flesh and forced his cock, locked in its cage, to throb. Gawd, how he wanted to strip her and worship her.

**

The door bell rang.

"Cuckie, would you get that please, and be polite. I know it's still hard for you, but be polite," said Kelli.

"Yes, ma'am," said Henry. Henry went to the door. He opened it, and smiled, grudgingly, at the tall dark man with the bouquet of flowers. "Hi James," he said, "Kelli is waiting for you, come in, please." Henry took the flowers from him.

"Thanks, Henry." The two men, the lover and the cuckold, went into the living room around the corner from the separated atrium. The Caulfield's home had been custom built for them some eight years earlier when James had gotten a significant bonus and raise for a series of very profitable commercial policy sales. There were four bedrooms three baths, a den and almost 3,500 square feet of living space attached to their three car garage. The back yard was a veritable forest: Kelli loved trees, so they had trees.

Kelli came in from the kitchen with two drinks in her hand. Walked up to the two men, gave James a peck on his lips and handed him his drink. She smiled at him. "Scotch, no ice," she said. "Glad you could come tonight."

He accepted the drink and stood back half a step. "You're absolutely gorgeous," he said. "Believe me it is my pleasure to be here."

The two of them were ignoring her husband.

"Henry? Don't you have something to do?" said Kelli.

"Uh-oh, yes. I'll just leave you two alone. Have a good time," he said. He made his way out into the backyard where minutes before he had set his drink on the patio table to watch the sun go down. Their house was on the backside of a hillside and had an unobstructed view of the western horizon. The evening was cloudless, warm, and pleasant in every way: Henry had made the decision to enjoy his wife enjoying herself. He was a cuckold for damn sakes; he had to get into that reality and accept it and know his place as her slave. His cock continued to throb as it vainly battled to free itself from its imprisonment in its sheath: he was excited.

Henry was glad that Kelli had excluded him from being in the room while they got things going between them. Going between them, he thought, just a euphemism for getting it on, making out, necking, doing it; he almost laughed outright at the craziness that he had put into motion just two weeks or so before. Live it up, he thought to himself, this was supposed to be fun. He lifted his glass and toasted the evening and the gods that gave him such a wonderful wife and such a wonderful life. The good news was that they were his, not James'.

"How was your day?" said Kelli smiling at her man.

"Anxious," he said. "Anxious waiting for the clock to go 'round so I could come to see you."

She raised her eyebrows and looked sidelong at him. "Really? Anxious to see me?" She was playing him now, and he loved it.

He feigned a "don't be silly" look, "Obviously."

She laughed uproariously.

Out on the patio, Henry heard the sudden burst of laughter and felt good. He was getting into his role more and more as time passed. Yes, things were good. Was he trying to convince himself?

James and Kelli talked and kissed and finally, running out of pleasantries, James hand resting on her dress clad knee, began to insinuate itself under the hem and up the smooth softness of her female thigh. He leaned forward to kiss her more intimately than he had until that moment. His tongue probed her lips and she responded.

James wanted to go slow. He had determined that he was going to take all night with his girl and make it work for her as well as for him. He definitely knew how to play the game, and Kelli knew he knew.

He felt her warmness where her legs came together at her pussy. He withdrew his hand and felt her breasts through the material of her dress and she shivered. Kelli had very sensitive nipples and they were hard and pointed and ready.

Suddenly his hands were all over her. He roughly slid his hands, both of them, back under her dress and pulled her panties downward. She raised up a little to allow him better access. She was surrendering to her lover and accepting of his leadership as he prepared to do her. He held her panties up as though they were a sports trophy. He sniffed them and she laughed at his silliness.

"My smell turn you on, big boy," she said snickering at the look on his face.

"Oh yes," he said,

James was still completely dressed, but not for long. Stuffing her black thong into his coat pocket, he began to undress.

She smiled at him stealing yet another pair of her panties. "Another trophy?"

He said nothing as he continued to undress.

He laid his sports coat over the back of the chair and began unbuttoning his shirt. He was muscular, but not overly so. James looked his thirty-four years. His face already had the craggy look of a strong man entering middle age. He was confident of himself and his of sexual attraction and prowess with regard to women and thanked his version of his fundamentalist god for his good fortune in such matters. He was especially grateful for his staying power, an attribute that far too many men lacked, he knew.

His pants pooled next, then his underpants. His cock stuck straight out from him and swayed with his movements the full nine inches of it. Kelli was sure that there could not be too many men with cocks as big as James'. His ball-sac was taught and full too. She would soon be receiving its contents, and she ached to do just that.

Kelli was all female and adored a man with a large cock who could make her cry out for mercy. James had done that the last time he had had her, and she was sure he would do it again.

He raised her up, and they stood face to face. He reached behind her hooking her dress and sliding her zipper earthward. Her dress fell from her; she wore no bra; she was naked and vulnerable before him.

For a moment he didn't touch her. In fact he stepped back from her. He gazed as one mesmerized by the sight of something beyond nature. Her smallish titties with their prominent nipples, her bare pussy and the half hidden slit that promised oh so much. It was no wonder she was able to keep her husband so enthralled even as another man took her.

Her husband! He had to be mad to suggest she take lovers. He was risking so much, too damn much. And, truth told, James would like to have been the one to have her betray him, leave him, and become his. But, that would not be something that he would bring up tonight, and maybe not ever. He had other priorities this night. Some of them might test her willingness to entertain him, but that would be after he fucked her first.

"Whatcha thinkin'," she said, interrupting his reverie. She stood there naked, hands at her side, a statue, the object of male worship: vulnerable, yet controlling, mistress yet powerless. Kelli was female woman: the cause célèbre of all things human and wonderful, and she knew it.

She was forty-one years old, and though she never would have believed in earlier times that she could or would say it, she was glad to be middle aged; the very young had no clue.

"What I'm thinking is that I am the most privileged fella in this town tonight," he said. He stepped to her, took her hand gently, and led her to the couch. "Kneel up on the couch," he said. I am going to take you from behind."

She turned and knelt as he said. She spread her knees wide enough for him to gain access to her pussy. Her eyes were closed, and so she was surprised when she felt his tongue lapping at her anus and her pussy lips. She sighed. His strong hand gripped her ankles and kept her wide open for his ministrations. He spit on his hands, laved his cock, stood, and gripped her hips almost too tightly. He pushed at her vulnerable pussy with his cock and the head gained but a semblance of entry. He pulled out and had another go at her. This time he gained a lodgment.

Pushing and pulling, he was soon screwing her. At first he was slow and methodical and she relished the feeling of him inside of her abrading the walls of her vagina.

After some minutes of slow but sure fucking, he began to speed up. She shuddered to a climax. He kept at her and she came again. She had never come twice in one screwing with Henry. She thought about her husband and his subpar dick now. What was he doing?

Thoughts of Henry dissipated as she felt her lover stiffen and unload a sea of semen inside of her. Gawd! how wonderful a fuck he was, she thought. She was so glad that Henry had decided to become her cuckold. Life was good.

He helped her from her kneeling position; cum was beginning to ooze from her vulva and drip down her leg.

"Bring him in," he said, "he needs to clean you."

She looked askance at him. "Really?"

"Sure. Let him participate," he said. "He adores you. He'll do it. Is he still wearing his cock cage?"

"Well, yes," she said.

"Why don't you let him out of it tonight," He said.

"Is something going on here?" Kelli said, becoming suspicious of his manner and tone.

"Maybe," He said.

"Maybe?"

"Well, yes actually. Kelli, I'm bi."

"Huh?" she said. "Bi—what?"

"Bisexual," he said. "I like to stick it up male butts as well as female pussies. I hope I haven't shocked you."

She just stood there—shocked. "Uh—I'm surprised," she said, understating the reality. "Wait, are you thinking of fucking my husband too!"

"Well, only with your consent. He's your cuckold, your slave. I think it would add spice to our games," he said. "What do you think?"

"I think I need a drink," she said.

He smiled. "Me too." Inwardly, he was smiling like a possum. She hadn't told him to fuck off.

They sat at the table in the kitchen only partially sated and now with something that was anything but mundane to talk about.

Kelli had gotten a kitchen towel to sit on since she was leaking like a sieve. "James, I don't know. Your idea is intriguing. I think I would really get off seeing Henry bent over getting it, but I don't want to hurt him. And I mean not only physically, but emotionally either," She said.

"You won't be hurting him, believe me. He's been in that cock cage how long?"

"All week," she said.

"Them he has to be one horny little cuckold. He will be so grateful for the chance to cum and be part of the evening," he said.

Kelli wasn't sure she approved of Henry being described as a horny little cuckold, even by James; but she let it pass.

"Well, nothing ventured nothing gained, I guess, she said. "I'll go get him. But let me suggest what we are planning for him. I know him best, and I can get a feel for how receptive he is to being fucked up his butt.

"Gawd! wouldn't that be something to see," she said, picturing the possibilities.

She went into the next room and to the sliding glass door and stared at her husband sitting at the round table on the patio with his drink in hand; his back was to her. "Henry, come here please," she said.

He started. Turning he saw her naked form and spilled his drink all over the front of himself. Geezsus, he thought, she was so sexy and so beautiful and so in charge of him! "Yes, ma'am," he managed.

When he got inside of the dimly lighted room, she gave him a peck on the cheek. "Good boy," she said. "Come inside with me, Henry."

He followed her into the living room. The signs were clear; she'd been fucked here.

He sighted the naked James. James just gave him a welcoming grin.

"Henry, I want you to get down on your knees in front of me," she said.

He did so.

"Use your tongue baby. Do a good job."

Her meaning was clear. She wanted him to clean her lover's cum from her vagina while he, the lover, watched him do it. To his credit he didn't hesitate and Kelli made a mental note to reward him later for his good behavior.

He began slowly, tasting her vaginal juices mixed with the male semen. It wasn't too bad, kinda sweet and sour; he always had liked Chinese food. He worked some minutes before he felt her begin to shudder. She was going to have an orgasm!

She squirted her froth all over his face, and he loved it! "Good job cuckie; good fucking job!" said Kelli.

She was breathing hard, but she was so satisfied with the results of her lover's good idea, at least in part. Henry might have a subpar cock, but he was nonpareil when it came to using his tongue and mouth.

She pushed him back. "Strip," she commanded him.

He obeyed her instantly and was naked in under fifteen seconds. This was looking good, he thought. Her next words brought him up short.

"Cuckie, James if going to fuck you. I want you to be good and put on a good show for me. Just think like a girl, you can do it," she said.

"Wh…?"

"Come over to the couch, cuckie, and kneel up on it," she said, leading him by the hand to where only a little while before she had knelt and surrendered to her lover.

James had come prepared. He went to his coat and pulled out a lubricated condom. Henry watched in horror as he opened it.

"Honey?" he begged, looking at his wife. But there was no mercy in her eyes only encouragement. He was going to be screwed just like she had been; well, not exactly as she had been. He was going to get it up the butt!

Kelli came to James and stopped him before he was able to put the condom on his now very stiff cock. "Wait, "she said, "I will do that for you."

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 7

by: Matt Moreau

"Hold on for just a second," said Kelli. She went to her purse and pulled out a small key. She took it to Henry and got on her knees and unlocked his cock cage. "There," she said. "That better?"

"Oh my yes," said Henry.

She smiled at her husband. She left him and went back to her lover.

Kelli took her time slipping the condom on her man. She glanced back at her cuckold husband and smiled. "Oh, this is going to be fun, cuckie, watching you get it from my lover. Be a big girl now and take your screwing nicely. Okay?"

Henry just stared and the massive cock that would soon stretch his anus to the bursting point. He was struggling mightily with his fears. James came to his rescue, sort of.

"Don't worry, cuckie, it will hurt just a little bit in the beginning and then it gets pleasurable, trust me."

For some reason, Henry did trust him. He was sure hoping he wasn't wrong in doing so. Henry was still standing there, where Kelli had left him, waiting for instructions; he got them.

"Turn around, cuckie, and kneel up on the couch like before," said Kelli. "It's time."

He did as she commanded. Disobeying her was not even considered. If she wanted her lover to fuck him in the ass, then he would stick his butt out nice and far and spread his cheeks to receive him. He did so now.

"Good, girl," said Kelli laughing softly at her husband's predicament and willingness to please her. She was using the female nouns and pronouns because her husband was doing female things; it was all a matter of perspective, she would say later.

She went behind the couch and knelt down close to her husband's face. She had two motives. One, she wanted to see his face when her lover entered him. Two, she wanted to encourage him to take his screwing nicely and without complaint. A woman's, a girl's, place was to surrender to her male conqueror and to do it without undue whining. Afterwards of course it was the woman's place to be in charge. That was the nature of things as Kelli was beginning to understand.

James took up his station behind his quarry and got a grip on his hips as he pushed to gain entry into the virgin anus of his female lover's husband. He started slow. James was nothing if he wasn't a considerate lover.

He was in! Henry squealed, but not loudly. It hurt, stung really, but not too bad. James had told him rightly.

Henry felt like he was filled up. He wondered if he felt like a girl felt her first time. Gawd! he was deep inside. James began to oh so slowly fuck him.

Kelli held her husband's face in her hands. "That's it baby, just relax. He's screwing you nice and easy. Do you like it?" She was smiling encouragement to him. She did not want this to be a big turnoff for him. He had to like it or the spell might be broken, that musn't happen, She thought.

"It's okay," he uttered. "But, I'm stretched pretty good."

"He does have a big dick doesn't he, baby. We girls just love a man with a big cock. Too bad yours isn't big and thick too, baby. But, you have other things, other talents to be proud of, believe me. I love you cuckie. You are being so good tonight. I am going to have to reward you soon."

Something strange was happening. Henry felt himself building to a climax. Suddenly he sprayed his semen all over the back of the couch. "Good girl, cuckie," said Kelli, "you came."

Just as she said that, he felt the man doing him stiffen and ram his cock into him again and again draining himself of his own semen.

Kelli gave her husband a hug and James shrank and withdrew from the stricken cuckold's butt.

Henry sagged to the floor breathing hard and for the first time feeling what it was like to have cum dripping from his hind quarters. He allowed that he didn't feel like a girl, but he sure felt fucked.

**

The next morning the phone rang, at 6:00AM. "Yes… Oh, Ida, what's up," said Kelli." "Oh yeah… Jack?… Sure, where?… Okay, I'll meet you there in an hour." Kelli hung up.

Henry had rolled over and was looking at her. "Ida?"

"Yes, I am going to meet with her in an hour. Baby, get the housework done, first thing. I'll be back before too long, and I will be inspecting your work. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said. Her cuck had been gaining in skill and ability in terms of taking over household duties and responsibilities. That had been one his wife's hopes. Now, as a full fledged cuckold wimp, her hope had been realized. Having a slave husband to do for one was very nice.

An hour later, Kelli pulled into the parking lot of the Crossroads. Ida was already there.

"Hi, what's up," said Kelli.

"Roberta is getting a lot of flak from her husband," said Ida.

"Oh? What kind of flak?" said Kelli.

"Well, she has told him his late nights at the office are over with, and he doesn't like it, being told that is. She thinks he is playing around. No hard evidence, but she is pretty sure."

"Well, we could sandbag the guy and find out," said Kelli. "Kind of like we have with the asshole."

"Yeah, I can't wait for that one to come to fruition," said Ida. "But, how are we going to work this one. I do want to help Robbie if we can."

"Put in a camera? I don't know. Let's think about it. We could put somebody, a PI maybe, on his tail. If he's dirty he won't be able to hide it. But, even if we do nail him, what is Roberta wanting to do about it? Do you know?"

"She says she wants to cuckold the bastard. Wouldn't that be a kick? Cuckold him? I wonder where she got that idea from?" said Kelli smirking her smirkiest.

"Yeah, well maybe I mentioned the benefits of having a cuckold slave. Anyway, she knew what it was, cuckolding that is. It seems she and Jack have played games before. She always was a hot babe," said Ida.

"Yeah ditto that," said Kelli. "So whaddya think?"

"I think a PI. That would be evidence that we could extort his good behavior with. We'll have him in a cock cage in short order once we get the goods. I don't think he will be wanting to have his social and fiscal worlds collapsing around him," she said.

"Let's do it," squealed Kelli.

In less than an hour the wheels of righteousness were in motion. If Jack were cheating, he was doomed. The PI was called, Ida had already researched him, and he would be on the job that very night.

The dynamic duo planned to meet the following morning, Monday.

**

Kelli was on the phone with a client. When Ida came in, she waved at her indicating that she wanted to talk. Five minutes later, Kelli was in the boss' office.

"We've got the PI on Jack's tail, a guy named Ed Miller; it'll be a few days before we hear anything probably. But now it's time to lower the boom on ex-lax," said Kelli.

"By ex-lax we mean John Raulerson, if I do not miss my guess," said Ida.

"The one and only. I call him that because he makes me wanna shit—on him."

"Hmm, yes, thank you for sharing the image," said Ida. "But, what are we going to do. I mean now? Today?"

"Send the stuff. I have the pics ready to go in a manila envelope. April should have them in the morning if we get them out now," said Kelli.

"Okay, let's do it," said Ida. And just like that John Raulerson's freewheeling lifestyle was about to come to an abrupt end.

**

April Raulerson was a nice looking rather than outright pretty. She was intelligent, and at thirty years old, married to a man a generation older. Not exactly a trophy wife, but again, nice looking regardless.

John Raulerson had literally promoted her out of the mailroom and into his twenty-first floor office. From there she had been privileged to date him—in his mind—and within a year's time she found herself married to the man. Well, she told herself, she could have died in the mailroom.

But, the one thing no woman is willing tolerate was a cheating scumbag of a husband. So, it was with a sick heart and a churning stomach that she gazed at the photos from the manila envelope.

She had gotten a call from Kelli Caulfield for a meeting almost as soon as she had opened the envelope. Kelli admitted to being the one to have sent the photos. They had met. She had heard Kelli's reasons for sending the photos and the plan to make things right for April. They were in agreement—oh were they ever!

She waited for him to arrive. In front of her was a shot glass filled with strait vodka: her fourth.

She heard the car pull in. One minute later the big man threw down his briefcase, and sagged into his easy chair in the living room. She called for him to come into the kitchen. Reluctantly, he came.

He sagged into the new chair. "What?" he said plaintively.

"Oh, is baby tired," said April with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

"What's the matter with you?" he said.

She pushed the manila envelope over to him. She did it slowly and deliberately.

He looked at her then picked up the envelope and looked inside. "Geezsus!," he yelled. "That cunt!"

"Cunt? Maybe she is, but what does that make you? Oh I know," she said, in a voice dripping with venom. "A rooster's a cock and a fish is a sucker—hello roosterfish!"

"You bitch."

"Bitch! I've got you by the proverbial huevos senor roosterfish; you'd best listen to the new reality: your new reality.

"I talked with Kelli today. We're in agreement," said April.

"Agreement? What agreement?"

"To fuck you over for your philandering ways," said his wife. "That is unless you are willing to take your punishment and do as you're told."

"Do as I'm told. Do you have any idea who I am?"

"I know who you were before you left this house this morning. But, trust me that guy and you are two totally different entities.

"Now, when you're ready to knuckle under, let me know. I've got a cocktail party to go to," said April.

"Go! Get the hell out! And don't come back," he said.

April smirked as she left. She'd be back, and he would be brought to heel or else.

**

"Mrs. Raulerson, this is Michael Dudley, my very fine attorney," said Ida. "And, of course you've met Kelli."

"Yes, hi Kelli," said April. "Good to see you again, I think" she said. Everyone smiled. "Well, sir, do we have a case?"

"Yes, we do. I'll take this on the come because you are Ida's friend. It's a no brainer. His lawyer, if he decides to argue with us, will bring him to a better sense of what's real. You've got too many witnesses, too many photos and recordings," said the attorney. "He's very dead meat."

As they were talking, April's cell phone rang. She stepped out into the hall to take the call. A moment later, she returned.

"He wants to talk?" she said. "He sounded like he was sorry." Everyone looked at each the other.

"You gonna talk to him? You want us to go with you?" said Ida.

"Would you? I'm kinda afraid of him," she said.

"Ladies, listen please, if you do go with April to talk to Mr. Raulerson, please be advised that you should say nothing to him. You can be there, but not one word passes your lips. You only observe. Is that clear? You could sour things if you try and get clever."

"Yes, Michael, we will do as you say. We're gonna be observers only," said Ida.

**

The meet was for 4:00. The women arrived at the house at about a quarter till. April noticed a strange car in the drive.

"That's Jerry's car," said April.

"He your husband's lawyer," guessed Kelli.

"No, he's my husband's sphincter," said April. "A true asshole. That's one guy I would just love to bring to heel. His wife is a quiet little girl named Jenna, I know the asshole cheats on her. I've seen him making plays on waitresses and such at company parties. He doesn't even try to hide it."

The girls walked into the house. "Jerry was trying to convince his boss that he should make the changes he was suggesting, but John Raulerson was too preoccupied to listen to his discontented employee.

The two men turned to see the women marching in.

"What th… " said Jerry at the interruption.

"Forget it, Jerry," said John. "You'll have to excuse us. I'll get back to you on this, but I can tell you now that I do not go back on deals, even if I can, once I have given my word. It's a matter of integrity."

Jerry scowled as he turned to leave. He didn't like being dismissed especially when a bunch of ditsy women were the cause.

"Mrs. Raulerson," he said, inclining his head to her, as he slipped out the door without being shown out.

"Integrity? Is that what you call what you do, John," said April. "Sit down, ladies," she said with a confidence she did not feel.

"I thought we were going to talk," said John.

"We are. These ladies are only here to listen. They're my friends. Of course you know them, don't you, John."

"Yes, yes I do," he said. "You sandbagged me, Kelli. Gotta hand it to you; you fooled me." He sounded lost, forlorn, something.

"I guess it doesn't matter now. Whaddya want, April? I don't want to go through some nasty-ass divorce, so whaddya want?"

"Let me ask you, John, what would you prefer?"

"Hah! to forget about this mess and start over," he said, knowing he was asking for the moon.

"You want to stay married then?" said April.

"Yes, if we can," he said.

"We can, but on a whole new footing," she said. "I will be the boss in everything except your business dealings. That's it plain and simple," she said. "Take it or leave it."

"Wait a minute. You mean you want to run our private lives? Is that it? That's all?"

"Yes, and that includes our sex lives. You're going to be my obedient little fellow from now on. If you can live with that; then, maybe we can make a go of this marriage. Make up your mind?"

He looked at her, and Kellie could see a tear forming in the corner of his eye. This was a side of the macho asshole that she had not suspected. Maybe he wasn't an asshole after all.

"April, you know why I married you?" he said.

"I thought I did," she said, "but now I'm not so sure."

"Because I saw in you strength. I spend my days with men like Jerry." He motioned in the direction that the other man had left.

"I married you because I figured that when I came home after work each day that I would have a wife who would take the load off of me. You know, make me feel better about the world, about myself. But, you turned out to be the same as everybody else, dependent on me, wanting me to take care of the pressures of the home, our private lives, too. So if you want to take care of those things and me, I'm your guy," he said. There was no doubt in the minds of the women at that table that he was sincere.

"You have cheated on me for years, John. I know it now…"

"Yes," he said, "I have, but I will make it up to you, if you'll let me," he said.

"Are you willing to be punished for what you've done to me and to us. You deserve to be punished, John; and I have a need to punish you."

"Whatever you want, April. I will do what I can to make things right."

"I'm going to take lovers, John, cuckold you. That is going to be part, but only part, of your punishment. The good news is that I do love you, and I will take care of you as you have never been cared for, not even by your mother," she said.

He was crying; everyone at the table noticed.

April got up and put her arms around him and kissed him. "It's okay, dear. I will never do anything behind your back. Any lover I take will be known to you, and you may even be asked to join in, on occasion, if I feel it's a good idea," she said.

"Anything you want," he said. He put his head down on the table and cried unabashedly.

Kelli looked at Ida and the two nodded. It all seemed to have worked out. They'd have to see it all in action, but they knew the ropes, at least Ida did, and that was easily done.

**

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 8

by: Matt Moreau

But two weeks before, Ida had had no one with which to share her lifestyle. Now, she had Kelli, April, and soon Roberta; or rather, what were their names? Oh yes: Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and Dartagnan. Things were looking up.

"Kelli, I have an idea I'd like to run by you," said Ida.

"And, that might be?" said Kelli.

"Well, you may remember the first time we talked about our cucks?"

"Yes."

"That was how long ago, now? Maybe three months?" said Ida.

"Yes, I guess so," said Kelli.

"And during that time how many more have been added to our little community?" said Ida.

"Well…"

"Well, Roberta and April," said Ida, interrupting her friend.

"Yes, now we are a gang of four," said Kelli laughing at her friend's math.

"Yes, and that is exactly four times as many as I had during these eleven previous years past," said Ida, not laughing.

"Ida, what's your point?" said Kelli.

"I want to start a club. I want to see it grow. I want to see our ladies lifestyle grow. And above all, I want to see our husbands, all husbands, learn their place and switch roles with their previously unappreciated and often neglected wives. There, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," said Ida.

"Wow. Okay, what kind of club?" said Kelli.

"You know, a club where we can cuckold our little fellows and get screwed blue whenever we want to," she said.

"Wow. But, something like that…"

"Yes, it would cost money to get started. Well, 'tra la,' I've got money, Clarence and I do—big money. Now, we can spend it buying cars or clothes or vacations or jewelry none of which come even close to being as exciting as coming home to tell our cucks about the fun we just had getting banged by some stranger! And, none of which comes as close to being as satisfying for our cucks as hearing us tell them how we just got fucked out of our minds by some stranger.

"So, do I have your interest yet," said Ida.

"Damn, Ida. Yes you do. But how? I mean, yes, you're a business woman, and so am I and so is Clarence, but a cuck club or cuck house or whatever. I don't think it's ever been done before. I sure never heard of one," she said.

"Well, we still have to work out the details. But among the eight of us, the wives and husbands, we have a lot of talent and money. We'll figure it out. Have a meeting of all parties. Get the cucks to do the heavy lifting.

"John will go for it. I hear he's been doing his level best to make it up to April; do anything she says almost," said Kelli.

"He's a top businessman and a negotiator, and he's rich too. I'm guessing the business part will be a piece of cake," said Ida.

"We can have the meeting tomorrow, if we can get hold of everyone," continued Ida.

"Uh—tomorrow?"

"Problem?"

"Kinda. I have been putting it off and putting it off and I told Henry that tomorrow was the day and to prepare," said Kelli.

"For?"

"His whipping," said Kelli. "I am going to punish him for his cheatin' ways of a couple of months ago."

"Oh, I see. Well, I understand. We'll just have the meeting on Saturday or next week. By then Henry will probably be able to sit, and we can do what we need to," said Ida looking sidelong at her friend.

"You gonna make him dance?" said Ida.

"I'm sure he will want to," said Kelli. "I intend to really lay into him. He deserves it and he is going to get it, no question."

**

The next day, Henry was up early. He was making sure that everything she had given him to do was done. He was giving her no reason to add to the punishment that he knew she was going to administer later in the day.

It was more of a nervous tick than anything else, but he kept rubbing his butt. It was almost as if he were trying to calm it, his butt, in anticipation of the pain it was going to have to endure. And the phrase "have to" was exactly right; There was no escaping this one; Henry and his ass were doomed.

It was noon and he had just come in from the garage. She looked pretty. She was standing on the far side of the room. She was wearing a simple sundress, yellow. Her hair was in a ponytail, which even at her age forty-one made her look like a teenager. She gave him a sympathetic smile. He didn't smile back.

In Kelli's right hand dangling floorward was a doubled up belt. In her left were some lengths of rope.

"It's time," she said. "Please do not say anything. There is nothing that I want to hear. I am going to spank you, and spank you very hard. You will learn your lesson."

He nodded and just stood waiting for her to speak.

There was a low-backed chair in the middle of the room. It was sturdy and large and made entirely of wood. He knew what it was for. He looked down, ashamed and afraid.

"Take your pants off, and your underwear too."

He was slow, but he obeyed her. She didn't rush him; the longer he took the greater the tension for him and she wanted him to be tense; it was all part of it.

She went to the chair and crooked her finger at him indicating that he should come there too. He did.

"Put your hands behind you back."

Again he obeyed. Setting the strap down on the chair's seat, she bound his wrists very tightly behind his back. She bound his legs just above his knees next. She urged him toward the chair. She picked up the strap and helped him mount the chair on his knees, his ass rearward. Finally, she bound his ankles, also very tightly. She stood back and evaluated her handiwork.

"Henry, this is punishment that I do not enjoy administering. That's because it is no little thing you are being punished for. You are going to get fifty of my absolute best, and it's going to hurt and sting like the very devil. If you try to get off of the chair, or otherwise try to interfere with your spanking, I am going to make it seventy-five. Nod if you understand me."

He nodded and he shivered.

She was thoughtful for a minute; then, she remembered something that Ida had mentioned about punishing her Clarence. She disappeared for a few minutes leaving the beleaguered husband to wonder what she was doing. He was bound too tightly to do anything but wait, so he waited.

Returning she held a roll of duct tape in her hand. She wound a long strip of it two or three times around his head sealing off any hope of a scream other than some nasal sniffling.

She wasted no time. Picking up her strap once more, she moved behind him and to his left. His buttocks and upper thighs were exposed and twitching as she paused.

She raised her arm high and brought the strap down cruelly on his flesh. He jerked and spasmed horribly, but he maintained himself on the chair. Just as he settled back he was assaulted with five more strokes in rapid succession; then she paused. For his part, he was already crying.

"It stings real bad, Henry; I'm sure of that, and we have a long way to go. Now, I expect you to take your medicine like a good little cuckold.

She rained a hellish barrage on his bottom in sets of four or five over the next half hour. He'd been counting, and perhaps surprisingly, accurately. Then, with the last stripe, he fell from the chair and curled up in a fetal position. He was trying to gasp for a big breath of air, and Kelli removed the duct tape.

He took a deep breath now even though he was sobbing like a baby. She left him tied for a moment and went in to the kitchen. She got herself a large drink of water; whipping him had been hard work. She filled the glass once more and took it in to him.

"Drink this." He struggled to a kneeling position, there would be no sitting for a while, and she held the glass while he took a long swallow. "Good," she said.

"Thank you," he said.

She looked at him kindly. "You're welcome, Henry."

"Honey, I will never betray your trust again—drunk or sober," he said.

"I know. But, I had to punish you. You know that."

"Yes, and I am grateful for the chance to make amends for my deeds," he said. "Most wives would have just kicked my stinking ass out."

She smiled at the image his words conjured in her head. She untied his wrists. With his hands free, he was able to take care of the rest of his bonds himself. He was free in less than a minute.

"I won't be sitting for a while," he said between sobs. "Geezsus it hurts!"

"I will apply some cold cream in a few minutes, that should ease the burn," she said "You've suffered enough. The slate's clean, Henry, but I don't have to tell you that we're quits if you ever do it again regardless of the reason."

"No ma'am. I understand."

**

"You've heard?" said Ida to the assembled cuckoldresses.

"Let me tell," said Roberta smiling broadly.

"Go for it, girl," said Ida.

"Jack was cheating. The PI you guys got for me has him cold. He cried when I showed him copies of some of the evidence. And get this, he begged me not to dump him. Says he couldn't help himself.

The irony is I believe him. The upshot is that he is now my complete pussywhipped little fellow, and he will soon be my complete pussywhipped little cuckold. Just like your husbands," she said, indicating the group of ladies with a sweep of her hand.

"Look at him over there." She nodded toward the bar. The four husbands, cuckolds all, were drinking and talking. The women could see JR making a point with Jack. April wondered what it could have been about, but she would find out later if she remembered to ask, and if she still cared.

I haven't told Jack all of the rules yet, and he is going to be on his knees begging me to lighten up, which of course he has but scant chance of getting me to do." She laughed out loud at the mental image that came to her as she spoke.

"Sound like you have made a good beginning, Robbie," said Kelli.

"I think so.

"I wonder what JR is telling him," continued Roberta. "Jack just keeps nodding. You think JR might be giving him the lowdown on what his life is likely to be like in the future now that his ass is mine?"

"Maybe," said April. "I'm kinda wondering too. I'll ask my little fellow about it later and fill you in next week when we meet." She glanced over at Ida. "We are meeting next week, right?"

"Right, like I said, we have a lot to talk about. I have a really big idea that I want to run by you guys, all of you," said Ida.

Kelli was just nodding; she was already in the know.

**

The boys at the bar did not notice their wives watching them. It wouldn't have made much difference in any event. They were all cuckolds, except one; and he soon would be too. None of them had anything to say about anything regardless.

Henry who was standing, and had been since they arrived, motioned to the bartendress for a refill: his third. Jack looked over to him for verification of what he'd just been told by JR.

"Yes," said Henry, "He's giving it to you straight."

"And all three of you have them on now!" said Jack.

"Yes," said Clarence, "but these guys are just beginners. I've had mine on for years. It ain't fun on one level, but it's a turn-on on another. It's hard to explain. It has to do with surrendering your macho-ness to your wife's will and becoming her cuckold, really her slave."

"Christ! I can't do that," he said. "I just can't. it's too humiliating to even think about," he said.

"It is that," said JR. "But, you will do it, and you will beg her on your knees for any little favor you can possibly want. The bad news is you won't get it. I'm pretty new to all of this, but I have already learned that much."

At that moment April caught her husband's eye. She crooked a finger in his direction. JR pointed to himself as if to ask "me?" She nodded.

"Be right back gentlemen; my mistress calls."

The rest of the cuckolds watched as JR made his way through the crowd of partying couples there for ladies night.

They all watched as April pointed to who had to be Jack. Henry wondered what the women had cooked up, but at that point he figured it was 6-to-5 and pick 'em that Jack wasn't going to like it much. They cucks could tell that JR was knitting his brows. They saw him mouth the word, "okay." Then he rejoined them.

"Well, Jack," JR said. "It seems that your beautiful wife has something special in mind for you tonight."

"Which is?" Jack said, saying the words slowly.

"She said I couldn't tell you, but that you'd better not embarrass her or you'd—well, just don't embarrass her," he said.

Jack swallowed hard.

"You better get over there. She wants you right now," said JR.

Jack chugged his bourbon and soda and marched over to where Roberta and the rest were sitting. He tried to move with as much dignity as possible and some of the girls had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing outright at him.

"Yeah, honey, whatcha need?" said Jack.

"Jack you love me don't you?" said Roberta.

He didn't like the tone of the question, but it could have only one acceptable answer, "Of course."

"Do anything I say, anything for me, right? Isn't that what you agreed to last night?" said Roberta.

"Yes. Sure." He said.

"Well good. I am going to have to do something to you now that is going to be a bit embarrassing, but it won't take long, and then you will be a sweet baby again, okay?"

"Do? Do what?" he said.

Kelli watched him. He was terrified. "It isn't going to be painful," said Kelli. "It is necessary though," she said.

"What!"

"You need to follow me out to the parking lot, Jack. You need to come without any more questions and without any more jacking me around. Am I clear?" said Roberta. "You cheated on me, and apparently many times, and I am still trying to get a hold on that reality. So, I am going to say it one more time: get out to the parking lot, and leave your misgivings, hopes, and wishes here. Got it!"

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He was biting his tongue, but he was screwed, blued, and tattoo'd; he had no way out, and he knew it.

All of the wives with Jack in tow, rose and turned to go outside. Ida signaled Clarence to the table; he came and she assigned him the job of watching their things while they took Jack outside for whatever they had in mind.

It might be noted here, that neither Clarence nor any of the other cucks were interested in exactly what Jack was about to get; they wanted no part of it.

They walked him out to the back of the lot and surrounded him behind Ida's Lincoln. Roberta came up to him and grabbed his penis through his trousers.

"What the…"

"Zip it big boy. You are not to talk, just follow instructions. Clear?" Said Roberta. "Just nod."

He nodded.

"Drop your pants, Jack."

"Huh?"

His wife just stared at him. She said nothing. She just waited; they all did.

He looked confused—no, frightened. He unbuckled his pants, unzipped them, and they fell from him.

"Your underpants too."

"But, Roberta!"

"Think of all of the women you've seen naked that you were not married to, big guy. Think of the punishment that you really deserve. Now do it, drop those skivvies and smile doing it," she said.

She wasn't serious about the smile, but was gratified when he tried, more or less unsuccessfully, to follow her instructions.

He was naked from the waist down with all of the women staring at him. He thought he detected some giggles. The bad, or maybe it was the good news, was that he was as flaccid as a three year-old.

"Looks like your Johnson is tired, honey. Been dating those five sisters again?"

He had, and she knew it, but she had the solution, so she hadn't said anything up until now. Now, she was going to lock those five sisters out of his life, at least until she was wanting to have them back, which could happen if he was good, she allowed.

She looked over at Kelli who had the package. Kelli passed it to her. She took it out and held it up for him to see.

"What's that?" he asked in a slightly higher pitched voice than normal.

"It's you cock cage," said Roberta. "It'll keep you safe from all of those women out there that just can't seem to get enough of you; oh, and safe from those five sisters too."

He stood frozen to the spot while she squatted down and threaded his penis into its sheath. She put in the pins and then padlocked it shut. Jack was safe, naked, and caged; all these in addition to being totally humiliated.

"Pull up your pants, big boy. We're going back in to have some fun." All of the women laughed. As for Jack he was in a fog, a stupor. For the first time, really, he understood that he was no longer in charge of his life, most especially not his sex life. It was a hard reality.

**

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 9

by: Matt Moreau

It had been a year since the women of the Crossroads, which was what they were calling themselves now, had settled things with their cucks and had founded the club. In point of fact the club had had its grand opening just this past month.

The Cuck Estate, as it was now named, was located some thirty five miles north of the city in the foothills of the nearby mountains. There was a village not far off, but the converted two-story motel had been completely remodeled and was now totally self-contained. Even the power supply was self-generated—which was a good thing because utility services were ten miles distant at closest approach. The new establishment had turned out to be perfect for the purpose for which it was intended.

The growth of the Cuck Estate had been phenomenal. It claimed over 200 card carrying members and some ninety studs of which sixty were black. The ladies who had been entertained by them swore by them, the blacks studs that is.

The Estate was paid for by donations, and no profits were expected nor had any such been realized by any of the charter members.

On this anniversary night all of the four original women and their cuckolds were in evidence.

The club complex was essentially a party complex. The rooms, the old motel rooms had all of the necessities, but that's what they had, the necessities, not luxuries. Since none of them would ever be occupied for more than a single night and most for no more than a couple of hours; luxuries would have been a prodigal waste.

But the room were nice, the beds king size. Each room had a small desk-cum-vanity. Each had a clean and well designed bathroom. And, each had the proper complement of towels and other such necessities.

Operations for the nights that the club was open was in the hands of the cucks. It fell to them to make sure that all of the women were treated to as much comfort and convenience and pleasure that such a place might be reasonably expected to provide.

While it was not unheard of for a woman to show up without her cuck; such was discouraged: the cucks were needed to change sheets, supply drinks, and toiletries as required by the women and their studs. Additionally it was up to the corps of cucks to clean up after the guests as the night wore on: no guest was expected to use a room that was not guest ready.

The rules of behavior were designed to humiliate the cucks to the maximum degree possible and to provide for the best possible sex, amusement, and safety for their women.

Kelli loved their nights at the club. Henry, and the other cucks, were not quite as enthusiastic, but the truth of such an evaluation was nevertheless belied by the pain they universally endured as their cocks strained to escape the cages that most of them were condemned to wear twenty-four-seven.

This night was the anniversary of the club's founding the year before. Though the club had just recently opened, the organization that was responsible for its creation had been in existence for a year: hence the anniversary celebration.

They arrived at 7:00 on the dot.

"Henry, please behave yourself tonight. Have a little fun if you have any free time, but do not embarrass me, okay."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll behave myself. I don't want another spanking for darn sure."

"Good, and I do not enjoy giving you one either, so just be good. If one of the ladies or her stud needs a drink or some special attention, just provide it: no complaints."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kelli strode off up the walkway toward the main entrance with Henry a few paces behind her: his usual place when they walked anywhere.

At the door they were greeted by Ida, who usually stood guard at the entrance to protect her baby, the club.

"Hi Caulfields," she said, clearly happy to see them. You guys know the drill; go on in. Oh, Kel, I have something special for you tonight. I'll catch up with you in a bit, okay?"

"Right, "said Kelli. Well, just go in a get settled for the moment. See you in a few."

The couple walked and surveyed the attendance. It was Saturday night, so it was failrly crowded. Kelli was excited. Looks like fun, dear," she said.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "I just hope somebody I know will be here."

"Clarence must be," said Kelli. He can keep you company."

"Yeah, but where is he. I don't see him anywhere."

"He might be changing sheets," said Kelli, laughing.

"Doubtful," said Henry, "too early."

"Maybe your right," she said. "Well anyway, dear, you go on inside. I'm going to cruise the garden," she said. "You know check out the merchandise." She laughed again. She was indeed excited. Her last night at the club, the week before, a big guy she'd never seen before banged her for half the night. "Gawd! he was good," she had said to Henry after they got home that night. "He screwed me every which way and then did me again for an encore. Fuck he was good."

Henry had never really gotten used to her commending the men she fucked for their prowess in the sack. But, it was his part to hear what other men were getting while he himself was denied any release at all. Helluva life!

Henry found Clarence at the bar. "Howdy, pard," he said approaching the older man.

"Oh, Henry, good to see you. She gonna cuckold you tonight 'eh?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. That's why we come. For that and to humiliate me."

"Gotcha. Me too. But, not tonight. The boss has loaded me down with other stuff for the night. Mostly bookwork and some ordering of supplies. At least I can do most of it online. I swear, I cannot imagine what Neanderthal man ever did without computers."

"Ditto that," said Henry.

"I see your wife out there talking to some guy," said Clarence.

Henry turned to see. Kelli was talking to a big black guy. "Looks like a defensive tackle," said Henry.

"That's Jackson. The girls seem to like him. Say he's got a ten inch cock and real staying power, or so I'm told. It's guys like him that make life hard for us cuckolds," said Clarence.

"You got that right," said Henry.

Henry watched as Jackson and Kelli went their separate ways. Henry felt relieved; a ten inch cock would have been too much to be compared to. Henry lost sight of Kelli for a while. While he waited for the inevitable, he and Clarence were joined by John Raulerson.

The three of them talked for a while and drank. Drinking helped dull the humiliation: the humiliation of their wives actively seeking fuck partners for the night that did not include any of them.

Henry was the first to be pulled into service. The rule was that when a wife hooked up with a fellow; the cuckold automatically became a servant and was stationed at one of the room doors: he would then be the servant for that room and responsible to keep it clean and supplied until his wife called it a night.

Henry would far rather have sat at the bar and just kicked back, but it was not to be. He saw Kelli coming towards him. The other cucks saw her too.

"Looks like your about to get the collar, Henry," said John.

"Looks like," said Henry.

"Hi honey," said Kelli coming up to him.

"Hi, honey," he said.

"You know why I'm here." It burdened Kelli that she had to be the one to collar her husband and give him the bad news that not only was she going to give herself to another man; she was also going to require her husband to be a house slave for the rest of the night.

"Yes, I know," he said. She reached into her purse and drew out a one-inch wide leather collar with an attached ring. The number on the collar was seventeen: the number of the room he would be stationed at. That at least was a break, he thought. Kelli was getting in early so he wouldn't be watching her room; she'd be in one of the lower numbers on the first floor.

"Get on your knees, dear, so I can collar you. You know the rule."

He got down on his knees and she attached the collar around his neck; its snapping lock assured that he could not take it off.

He rose, and she gave him a peck on the cheek. "Good boy," she said. "Now get a move on. You know you're not allowed to be here in the bar wearing your collar. You know where to go."

He nodded his obedience, and started off to his station for the evening. When he got there, he was surprised to see April and that big black stud Jackson standing at the room's door. They saw him and motioned him to hurry up.

"Yes, ma'am," said Henry. "Sorry, I'm late, ma'am," he said. He kept his eyes focused on her feet, that was one of the rules too: no cuck was allowed to look a woman in the eye, even his own wife, while they were at the Estate. The same went for their studs as well.

"It's all right. Just do your job, and everything will be fine. She moved closer to him and whispered in his ear as Jackson looked on. "You have my permission to tell John everything you see or hear tonight," she giggled.

"Stand still, cuckie," said April, "so I can chain you up nice and safe." There were chains attached to the door jamb of each of the rooms. The loose end of the chain was attached and padlocked to the slave's collar so he couldn't be wondering off. Each female had the key to the padlock; she was given it when she was given the key to the room. April padlocked the loose end of the chain to Henry's collar and he took his seat on the short legged stool next to the door. He wondered if he'd hear any moaning or crying out during the evening.

Kelli and her man, Arnold, were assigned room number nine. She didn't know the cuck who was stationed there, but she chained him and told him to take his seat; he was evidently new, since he had to be told.

"In the room Arnold sighed: this one was very pretty and mature; it was going to be very nice fucking her.

Kelli was wearing her signature black sheath with the matching choker her black spikes. Her butt stuck out prominently because of the shoes. Her tits, though not large, pushed the front of her bodice out perfectly. And, as usual, she smelled like a million bucks.

He came toward and stopped a foot away. He reached for her breasts and massaged the lewdly.

Kelli winced when he twisted her nipples. It didn't so much hurt but it seemed like it should have. She let he hand brush against his hardness. Her eyes shot open and she looked up at him with a mix of terror and admiration.

"You are a big boy, aren't you?" she said.

"Some say so," he whispered huskily.

He leaned in to kiss her. He was a master of the gentle kiss. She returned the favor.

He reached around her and pulled her to him. He had an ulterior motive: he wanted at the zipper on the back of her sheath. He achieved his aim and in trice she was without her outer garment. Her bra and panties were all that stood between her and her conqueror.

He undid her bra and it fell away. He dropped to his knees and slowly, very slowly pulled her panties down and off. Kelli was naked and vulnerable. Arnold was a big man, maybe twenty-five years old and very black. He would be her first black man. She was anxious to see if the rumors had any grain of truth to them. All she had ever heard was but anecdotal.

Arnold rose up, and Kelli dropped to her knees and fumbled with his belt, pants button, and zipper. His jeans were hugging his legs tightly, so she had to peel them down. His shorts were next, but they were less of a problem.

His cock waved in front of him and slapped her in the face. She looked at as at something that should have been in a museum. It had to have been at least a foot long and relatively thick. Having him fucker was going to feel like she was having a baby, she was sure.

He lifted her to her feet. He continued feeling her up and kissing her. "We've got time," he said. "I want you to be comfortable. I am going to take you slowly and several times."

"Sounds good to me," she said.

He lifted her onto the bed as though she were a rag doll. He knelt above her, slid down her body and pushed his face into her pussy lips like a starving man. He ate her out for ten minutes. She was so wet, when he was finished, that she couldn't believe it. The young slave outside the door was going to have a problem getting the bed dry enough for the next couple to use the room, she thought. Well, that was his problem; hers was surviving being fucked by a sex engine the size of Arnold's.

She'd closed her eyes while he was eating her. She felt him stop. He loomed above her. She gave a little cry as he began to push into her. It hurt, but it was the good kind of hurt. Henry would never believe it. But, oh she was going to have a ball trying to make him believe it.

"Ugh!" she cried. "You're killing me," she said to him.

He just smiled at her and continued to work his pole slowly in and out of her. She spread her legs as wide as possible to relieve some of the stress on her pussy; it helped a little.

"Geezsus, I'm fucked," she said. "My husband could never dream of doing anything like this to me!"

They came at about the same time.

In room seventeen, Jackson was finishing screwing April. Henry heard al of the squeals and moans and laughter. He heard her say her husband's name once or twice. April was having a ball. It was maybe 9:00 when April and her lover came out.

"Okay, cuck boy, get in there and clean the place up for the next couple," she said as she unlocked him from his chain.

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he kept his eyes riveted on the floor. He cleaned the room up in the allotted time, and soon another couple were ensconced in room seventeen cuckolding another wimp of a husband, and Henry sat on his stool chained once more waiting for his cleanup job.

**

That evening Kelli and Henry arrived back at the house about 1:00AM. They didn't notice it, but there was a strange car parked two doors up. Strange in the sense that it wasn't supposed to be there at that time of night. Dozing behind the wheel was James Laughton. The lights from the oncoming car woke him. He watched as Kelli and Henry parked, got out, and went into the house. The lights came on inside, and went off again in less than ten minutes.

**

The phone rang at a little past seven in the morning.

"Yes," said a sleepy Henry… "James?"… Yes, she's here… just a minute." He handed the phone to the now awakened Kelli.

"Yes, James… Today?… at 2:00… sure… I guess so… okay… see yuh then." She handed the phone back to Henry and promptly fell back to sleep.

Henry was not happy about James coming over—again. The Club was one thing: humiliating and hard work for the cuckold husbands, but it was all one night stands for the wives; they got off, came home with their husbands, and told them all about their adventures. It was very stimulating, but James was different. Henry was sure he wanted more than sex from Kelli; he wanted Kelli! He wanted to take Kelli away from him; he was sure of it. He'd eebn around way too much.

Over the past year Kelli had been with a number of other men. She had denied him, Henry, intercourse. She had made him clean her and suck her lover's dicks most of the time. On occasion she had locked him in the closet and allowed him nothing. And, he had endured no fewer than three serious spankings in that time for mistakes or perceived rudeness on his part—Geezsus those stung; he hated that cane or switch or whatever it was. Nevertheless, James had become her number one stud, and he was always freakin' around.

Henry had mentioned his concern that James was a little much, and Kelli had pooh-poohed it. "Forget it, Henry," she had said. "He's just a cock, and a nice one. But, thank you for being jealous."

James was four minutes early. A girl always likes it if a man is anxious.

"Hi," she said as Henry opened the door for him and let him in.

"Hi to you too gorgeous," he said. He ignored Henry. In the early days he'd been at least been perfunctorily polite to him, but in recent weeks he had simply ignored him. Henry new his place and just wrote it off to his status as a rightless cuckold. But, lately there had seemed to be more involved with James' attitude; it was more than disdain that Henry was a wimp. James seemed almost—guilty.

He and Kelli adjourned to the bedroom. "Henry," called Kelli, "we wish to be left undisturbed for a while. I will call you when we need you," she said.

Henry's heart sank. It was hard to be a cuckold sometimes; this was one of those times.

It was some two hours later that James and Kelli emerged from the bedroom. Kelli was a mess: clearly well fucked. James was little better. They came into the living room smiling and cooing at each other. Henry was upset, jealous—no—fearful. They were too close too—in love!

Kelli had to leave the room to fix herself up. Henry was left with the naked James.

"James?"

"Yes?"

"I need to ask you to be a little less demonstrative with Kelli," he said.

"What!"

Henry knew he had crossed the line, but it was more than a cuckold's jealousy involved here; it was genuine fear of losing his wife to another man. "I mean it,"

"You have nothing to say about it, cuckie. That's between me and Kelli. So just behave yourself, or I will tell Kelli and you'll get the strap." James started to laugh at him.

Henry who was a good three inches shorter and forty pounds lighter made a move to go after James. James told him to sit the hell down and mind his manners. Just then Kelli returned: beautiful, sweet, and obviously still turned on.

"Manners?" she said.

"Cuckie thinks I am too demonstrative with you. He doesn't know the half of it doe he," Kelli.

"He sure doesn't," said Kelli, "or maybe I should say that he is indeed equal to about half of it." The two lovers laughed uproariously at him.

Kelli noticed the darkening visage of her husband. "Henry? What's going on? Do I have to spank you?"

"Kelli—I will do anything for you—you know that. But, James…"

"What about him, Henry" he fucks me all of the time. I let him. I want him to. And, I want you to be a good little cuckold and like it. Now, right now, get over there and suck his cock; I mean it," said Kelli.

Henry was stopped cold. Confronting James was one thing; disobeying his wife was something else entirely: he was her slave. With a look that was nothing but hate, he went to James fell to his knees, took James cock in his hand, leaned in and began to suck the bigger man off. What came next shocked everyone, most especially Henry.

James screamed. The cause of the scream was the fact that henry had tried to bite off his cock. The punch that ended his attempt left Henry sprawled out on the floor at Kelli's feet.

"Mother fucker," spit James. "He was advancing on Henry to likely kick him while he was down, But Kelli stopped him. "Enough, James, he's down." Said Kelli, her voice filled with shock and dismay.

She went to Henry, but he pushed her away. "Henry? What's this all about? I mean really."

"He wants more than sex, Kelli. He wants you. He wants to break us up!" said Henry.

The argument was on and Henry got more and more agitated. "Henry, you are simply out of control. You need to leave."

"Huh? This is my house…"

"Get out, Henry, I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. You've lost it. And, in about two more minutes of this you've lost me. So get out. Call me in a day or two."

Henry was stunned. "Kel—you can't mean…"

Kelli wasn't sure how she felt, but she was certainly angry and she'd said what she'd said not even realizing the words that were coming out of her mouth. "I mean it."

Henry took one last malevolent look at the naked James and turned to go. He got in his car and drove. After a long while he realized he had no clothes or anything. He drove back to the house. He wasn't sure why, but the excuse was to get his clothes.

As he pulled up in front, he saw them. Kelli had had similar thoughts. Two suitcase, his, were on the front porch. He retrieved them; there was a note attached. It had been written by James. "She's mine now asshole; don't come back."

Henry couldn't think. He read the noted crumbled it, and threw it on the ground. The breeze took it under the crawl space beneath the house. He took the suitcases and left. Kelli watched him go from behind the window drapes. She was angry, but she did feel sad for him; jealousy had finally gotten to him, she thought. She wondered about the note; James must have written it.

Henry had been jealous over the past year; he had been humiliated. But, he had never been at a place in his mind and soul that was even close to where he was now: his heart was broken, the sickest feeling a human can know.

**

He called in to his secretary, and told her he was taking sick leave. He had the leave time accumulated, and so there was no question about his being free to take the leave. But it was strange: he had not missed a day of work in twenty years. Everyone at his office talked about it. It was water-cooler topic of the year.

After picking up his bags, he had driven around for hours. Finally exhausted and sick at heart, he'd pulled into the parking lot of a cheap hotel on Main street; it was the boundary between the downtown business center and skid row. Used to staying at Hilton-esque establishment; this was a significant come down for him.

Kelli, at the house, kissed James goodbye, and felt sorry for him too. She was fond of James, but she didn't feel that she had given Henry reason to feel threatened. She made a date for him to come over the next day. Henry would call and beg her to take him back probably before the day was out; she knew him well. Apparently not well enough.

After two weeks of wandering the streets, eating little, and crying his eyes out almost every night: Henry was at his wits end. It was then that he met Annie. Annie had no last name, at least none she could remember; she'd been on the streets since her husband ran out on her thirty years before.

Henry needed a friend. And though Annie was used to the streets, she did too. They met for coffee almost every morning for the two weeks since Henry had been kicked out; he paid, Anie was grateful. At least Kelli hadn't closed his checking account or anything like that. He wondered if James would try to influence her in that way. Well, so far not.

Annie offered him advice, and they cried together over their respective spouses. At sixt-six years of age, Annie was hurting, and obviously in need of something. The got to stay in City shelters during cold weather; being a senior citizen had its advantages. But it was too early in the season for a city bed yet, so she huddled under an old army blanket most nights. Dense, though he undoubtedly was as to the ways of humanity, it finally occurred to Henry to offer her a place to stay; his hotel room.

Annie was grateful, and said so. She did all she could to not be a burden or a bother to her benefactor. She was the new "aunt" in his life.

Kelli was at first concerned, then angry again, then a malaise set in. She didn't know how she felt. But, she did wonder about her husband. Where was he? He had called in at work. His secretary promised to call her if he checked in.

Kelli considered looking for him, maybe using the PI that had helped her out in other matters, but no; he'd made his bed, no he had to lie in it. If he never came back that was his problem. She had done nothing wrong, so she reasoned. Time passed

"Hi James. I'll be ready in a minute," she said.

"Take your time beautiful," he said. He'd been smart enough not to bring up his problem with Henry since the blow up three months before.

Henry was still missing in action, and Kelli was still worried, but the female stubborn streak in her continued to block her from acting on her inn voice.

They were in the restaurant where she and James had become noticeable as an item. "Kelli, I know it's been but a few months since Henry left. But, I think it's time we ha a talk," he said.

"We talk all of the time, James," she said.

"Kelli, I want to marry you."

"What? What are you saying? I have a husband?" she said confused.

"Do you? Wghere is he. I could never leave without fighting for you," he said.

"As I recall, he did, and he lost," said Kelli, giggling mirthlessly.

"Kelli, I want to win. I want to win you. Marry me."

"James, I'm already married, and it's forever. I am fond of you, well, I am fond of your cock," she laughed trying to lighten the mood, "but Henry and I will eventually get things fixed. Understand me; I'm not blaming you for any of this, but whatever it is between me and my man, not between us—you and me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kelli, he's gone, and you need a man, a real man," he said

Suddenly Kelli saw it: the possessiveness in the man across from her, and it frightened her. She wanted her cuckold back, not this overbearing—cocksman.

"I'm going to go James. Oh, and do not come around anymore. We're quits. I should have realized it a long time ago. Well, I realize it now."

Just like hat she was up, out, and calling a cab on her cell. It was time to start the hunt for real.

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 9

by: Matt Moreau

It had been a year since the women of the Crossroads, which was what they were calling themselves now, had settled things with their cucks and had founded the club. In point of fact the club had had its grand opening just the month before.

The Cuck Estate, as it was now named, was located some thirty five miles north of the city in the foothills of the nearby mountains. There was a village not far off, but the converted two-story motel had been completely remodeled and was now totally self-contained. Even the power supply was self-generated—which was a good thing because significant utility services were ten miles distant, since the construction of the freeway, at closest approach. The new establishment had turned out to be perfect for the purpose for which it was intended.

The growth of the Cuck Estate had been phenomenal. It claimed over 200 card carrying members and some ninety studs of which sixty were black. The ladies who had been entertained by them swore by them, the blacks studs that is; and well they should have, they were the ones who had sought them, found them, and were willing to share them with each other.

The Estate was paid for by donations, no profits were expected, nor had any such been realized by any of the charter members.

On this anniversary night all of the four original women and their cuckolds were in evidence.

The club complex was essentially a party complex. The rooms, the old motel rooms, had all of the necessities, but that's what they had, the necessities, not luxuries. Since none of them would ever be occupied for more than a single night and most for no more than a couple of hours; luxuries would have been a prodigal waste.

But the rooms were nice and the beds king size. Each room had a small desk-cum-vanity. Each had a clean and well designed bathroom. And, each had the proper complement of towels and other such practicalities.

Operations for the nights that the club was open were in the hands of the cucks. It fell to them to make sure that all of the women were treated to as much comfort and convenience and pleasure that such a place might be reasonably expected to provide.

While it was not unheard of for a woman to show up without her cuck; such was discouraged: the cucks were needed to change sheets, supply drinks, and toiletries as required by the women and their studs. Additionally it was up to the corps of cucks to clean up after the guests as the night wore on: no guest was expected to use a room that was not guest ready.

Too, The rules of behavior were designed to humiliate the cucks to the maximum degree possible and to provide for the best possible sex, amusement, and safety for their women.

Kelli loved their nights at the club. Henry, and the other cucks, were not quite as enthusiastic, but the truth of such an evaluation was nevertheless belied by the pain they universally endured as their cocks strained to escape the cages that most of them were condemned to wear twenty-four-seven.

This night was the anniversary of the club's founding the year before. Though the club had just recently opened, the organization that was responsible for its creation had been in existence for a year: hence the anniversary celebration.

They arrived at 7:00 on the dot.

"Henry, please behave yourself tonight. Have a little fun if you have any free time, but do not embarrass me, okay."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll behave myself. I don't want another spanking for darn sure."

"Good, and I do not enjoy giving you one either, so just be good. If one of the ladies or her stud needs a drink or some special attention, just provide it: no complaints."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kelli strode off up the walkway toward the main entrance with Henry a few paces behind her: his usual place when they walked anywhere.

At the door they were greeted by Ida, who usually stood guard at the entrance to protect her baby, the club.

"Hi Caulfields," she said, clearly happy to see them. You guys know the drill; go on in. Oh, Kel, I have something special for you tonight. I'll catch up with you in a bit, okay?"

"Right," said Kelli. "We'll, just go in a get settled for the moment. See you in a few."

The couple walked and surveyed the attendance. It was Saturday night, so it was fairly crowded. Kelli was excited. Looks like fun, dear," she said.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "I just hope somebody I know will be here."

"Clarence must be," said Kelli. "He can keep you company."

"Yeah, but where is he. I don't see him anywhere."

"He might be changing sheets," said Kelli, laughing.

"Doubtful," said Henry, "too early."

"Maybe your right," she said. "Well anyway, dear, you go on inside. I'm going to cruise the garden," she said. "You know check out the merchandise." She laughed again. She was indeed excited. Her last night at the club, the week before, a big guy she'd never seen before banged her for half the night. "Gawd! he was good," she had said to Henry after they had gotten home that night. "He screwed me every which way and then did me again for an encore. Fuck he was good."

Henry had never really gotten used to her commending the men she fucked for their prowess in the sack. But, it was his part to hear what other men were getting while he himself was denied any release at all. Helluva life!

Henry found Clarence at the bar. "Howdy, pard," he said approaching the older man.

"Oh, Henry, good to see you. She gonna cuckold you tonight 'eh?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. That's why we come. For that and to humiliate me."

"Gotcha. Me too. But, not tonight. The boss has loaded me down with other stuff for the night. Mostly bookwork and some ordering of supplies. At least I can do most of it online. I swear, I cannot imagine what Neanderthal man ever did without computers."

"Ditto that," said Henry.

"I see your wife out there talking to some guy," said Clarence.

Henry turned to see. Kelli was talking to a big black guy. "Looks like a defensive tackle," said Henry.

"That's Jackson. The girls seem to like him. Say he's got a ten inch cock and real staying power, or so I'm told. It's guys like him that make life hard for us cuckolds," said Clarence.

"You got that right," said Henry.

Henry watched as Jackson and Kelli went their separate ways. Henry felt relieved; a ten inch cock would have been too much to be compared to. Henry lost sight of Kelli for a while. While he waited for the inevitable, he and Clarence were joined by John Raulerson.

The three of them talked and drank. Drinking helped dull the humiliation: the humiliation of their wives actively seeking fuck partners for the night that did not include any of them.

Henry was the first to be pulled into service. The rule was that when a wife hooked up with a fellow; the cuckold automatically became a servant and was stationed at one of the room doors: he would then be the servant for that room and responsible to keep it clean and supplied until his wife called it a night.

Henry would far rather have sat at the bar and just kicked back, but it was not to be. He saw Kelli coming towards him. The other cucks saw her too.

"Looks like you're about to get the collar, Henry," said John.

"Looks like," said Henry.

"Hi honey," said Kelli coming up to him.

"Hi, honey," he said.

"You know why I'm here." It burdened Kelli that she had to be the one to collar her husband and give him the bad news that not only was she going to give herself to another man; she was also going to require her husband to be a house slave for the rest of the night.

"Yes, I know," he said. She reached into her purse and drew out a one-inch wide leather collar with an attached ring. The number on the collar was seventeen: the number of the room he would be stationed at. That at least was a break, he thought. Kelli was getting in early so he wouldn't be watching her room; she'd be in one of the lower numbers on the first floor.

"Get on your knees, dear, so I can collar you. You know the rule."

He got down on his knees and she attached the collar around his neck; its snapping lock assured that he could not take it off.

He rose, and she gave him a peck on the cheek. "Good boy," she said. "Now get a move on. You know you're not allowed to be here in the bar wearing your collar. You know where to go."

He nodded his obedience, and started off to his station for the evening. When he got there, he was surprised to see April and that big black stud Jackson standing at the room's door. They saw him and motioned him to hurry up.

"Yes, ma'am," said Henry. "Sorry, I'm late, ma'am," he said. He kept his eyes focused on her feet, that was one of the rules too: no cuck was allowed to look a woman in the eye, even his own wife, while they were at the Estate. The same went for their studs.

"It's all right. Just do your job, and everything will be fine. She moved closer to him and whispered in his ear as Jackson looked on. "You have my permission to tell John everything you see or hear tonight," she giggled.

"Now, stand still, cuckie," said April, "so I can chain you up nice and safe." There were chains attached to the door jamb of each of the rooms. The loose end of the chain was attached and padlocked to the slave's collar so he couldn't be wondering off. Each female had the key to the padlock; she was given it when she was given the key to the room. April padlocked the loose end of the chain to Henry's collar and he took his seat on the short legged stool next to the door. He wondered if he'd hear any moaning or crying out during the evening.

Kelli and her man, Arnold, were assigned room number nine. She didn't know the cuck who was stationed there, but she chained him and told him to take his seat; he was evidently new, since he had to be told.

"In the room Arnold sighed: this one was very pretty and mature; it was going to be very nice fucking her.

Kelli was wearing her signature black sheath with the matching choker her and black spikes. Her butt stuck out prominently because of the shoes. Her tits, though not large, pushed the front of her bodice out perfectly. And, as usual, she smelled like a million bucks.

He came toward and stopped a foot away. He reached for her breasts and massaged them lewdly.

Kelli winced when he twisted her nipples. It didn't so much hurt but it seemed like it should have. She let her hand brush against his hardness. Her eyes shot open and she looked up at him with a mix of terror and admiration.

"You are a big boy, aren't you?" she said.

"Some say so," he whispered huskily.

He leaned in to kiss her. He was a master of the gentle kiss. She returned the favor.

He reached around her and pulled her to him. He had an ulterior motive: he wanted at the zipper on the back of her sheath. He achieved his aim and in trice she was without her outer garment. Her bra and panties were all that stood between her and her conqueror.

He undid her bra and it fell away. He dropped to his knees and slowly, very slowly pulled her panties down and off. Kelli was naked and vulnerable. Arnold was a big man, maybe twenty-five years old and very black. He would be her first black man. She was anxious to see if the rumors had any grain of truth to them. All she had ever heard was but anecdotal.

Arnold rose up, and Kelli dropped to her knees and fumbled with his belt, pants button, and zipper. His jeans were hugging his legs tightly, so she had to peel them down. His shorts were next, but they were less of a problem.

His cock waved in front of him and slapped her in the face. She looked at it as at something that should have been in a museum or perhaps the zoo! It had to have been at least a foot long and relatively thick. him fucking her was going to feel like she was having a baby, she was sure.

He lifted her to her feet. He continued feeling her up and kissing her. "We've got time," he said. "I want you to be comfortable. I am going to take you slowly and several times."

"Sounds good to me," she said.

He lifted her onto the bed as though she were a rag doll. He knelt above her, slid down her body and pushed his face into her pussy lips like a starving man. He ate her out for ten minutes. She was so wet, when he was finished, that she couldn't believe it. The young slave outside the door was going to have a problem getting the bed dry enough for the next couple to use the room, she thought. Well, that was his problem; hers was surviving being fucked by a sex engine the size of Arnold's.

She'd closed her eyes while he was eating her. She felt him stop. He loomed above her. She gave a little cry as he began to push into her. It hurt, but it was the good kind of hurt. Henry would never believe it. But, oh she was going to have a ball trying to make him believe it.

"Ugh!" she cried. "You're killing me," she said to him.

"Heard that before," he said. He smiled down at her and continued to work his pole slowly in and out of her. She spread her legs as wide as possible to relieve some of the stress on her pussy; it helped a little.

"Geezsus, I'm fucked," she said. "My husband could never dream of doing anything like this to me!"

They came at about the same time.

In room seventeen, Jackson was finishing up screwing April. Henry'd heard all of the squeals and moans and laughter. He heard her say her husband's name once or twice. April was having a ball. It was maybe 9:00 when April and her lover came out.

"Okay, cuck boy, get in there and clean the place up for the next couple," she said as she unlocked him from his chain. She giggled at his obvious embarrassment.

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he kept his eyes riveted on the floor. He cleaned the room up in the allotted time, and soon another couple were ensconced in room seventeen cuckolding another wimp of a husband, and Henry sat on his stool chained once more waiting for his cleanup job.

**

That evening Kelli and Henry arrived back at the house about 1:00AM. They didn't notice it, but there was a strange car parked two doors up. Strange in the sense that it wasn't supposed to be there at that time of night. Dozing behind the wheel was James Laughton. The lights from the oncoming car woke him. He watched as Kelli and Henry parked, got out, and went into the house. The lights came on inside, and went off again in less than ten minutes.

**

The phone rang at a little past seven in the morning.

"Yes," said a sleepy Henry… "James?"… Yes, she's here… just a minute." He handed the phone to the now awakened Kelli.

"Yes, James… Today?… at 2:00… sure… I guess so… okay… see yuh then." She handed the phone back to Henry and promptly fell back to sleep.

Henry was not happy about James coming over—again. The Club was one thing: humiliating and hard work for the cuckold husbands, but it was all about one night stands for the wives; they got off, came home with their husbands, and told them all about their adventures. It was very stimulating, but James was different. Henry was sure he wanted more than sex from Kelli; he wanted Kelli! He wanted to take Kelli away from him; he was sure of it. He, James, had been around way too much.

Over the past year Kelli had been with a number of other men. And, during that time, she had denied him, Henry, intercourse. She had made him clean her and suck her lover's dicks. On occasion she had even locked him in the closet and allowed him nothing. Likewise, he had endured no fewer than three serious spankings for mistakes or perceived rudeness on his part—Geezsus those stung; he hated that cane or switch or whatever it was. And through it all; he hadn't complained about any of her lovers.

But, James, during that whole time, James had become her number one stud, and he was always freakin' around.

Henry had mentioned his concern that James was a little much, and Kelli had pooh-poohed it. "Forget it, Henry," she had said. "He's just a cock, and a nice one. But, thank you for being jealous."

James was four minutes early. A girl always likes it if a man is anxious.

"Hi," she said as Henry opened the door for him and let him in.

"Hi to you too gorgeous," he said. He ignored Henry. In the early days he'd been at least been perfunctorily polite to him, but in recent weeks he had simply ignored him. Henry new his place and just wrote it off to his status as a rightless cuckold. But, lately there had seemed to be more involved with James' attitude; it was more than disdain that Henry was a wimp. James seemed almost—guilty.

He and Kelli adjourned to the bedroom. "Henry," called Kelli, "we wish to be left undisturbed for a while. I will call you when we need you," she said.

Henry's heart sank. It was hard to be a cuckold sometimes; this was one of those times.

It was some two hours later that James and Kelli emerged from the bedroom. Kelli was a mess: clearly well fucked. James was little better. They came into the living room smiling and cooing at each other. Henry was upset, jealous—no—fearful. They were too close to—in love!

Kelli had to leave the room to fix herself up. Henry was left with the naked James.

"James?"

"Yes?"

"I need to ask you to be a little less demonstrative with Kelli," he said.

"What!"

Henry knew he had crossed the line, but it was more than a cuckold's jealousy involved here; it was genuine fear of losing his wife to another man. "I mean it,"

"You have nothing to say about it, cuckie. That's between me and Kelli. So just behave yourself, or I will tell Kelli and you'll get the strap." James started to laugh at him.

Henry who was a good three inches shorter and forty pounds lighter made a move to go after James. James told him to sit the hell down and mind his manners. Just then Kelli returned: beautiful, sweet, and obviously still turned on.

"Manners?" she said.

"Cuckie thinks I am too demonstrative with you. He doesn't know the half of it doe he?" Kelli.

"He sure doesn't," said Kelli, "or maybe I should say that he is indeed equal to about half of it." The two lovers laughed uproariously at him.

Kelli noticed the darkening visage of her husband. "Henry? What's going on? Do I have to spank you?"

"Kelli—I will do anything for you—you know that. But, James…"

"What about him, Henry, he fucks me all of the time. I let him. I want him to. And, I want you to be a good little cuckold and like it. Now, right now, get over there and suck his cock; I mean it," said Kelli.

Henry was stopped cold. Confronting James was one thing; disobeying his wife was something else entirely: he was her slave. With a look that was nothing short of hate, he went to James fell to his knees, took James cock in his hand, leaned in and began to suck the bigger man off. What came next shocked everyone, most especially Henry himself.

James screamed. The cause of the scream was the fact that Henry had tried to bite off his dick. The punch that ended his attempt left Henry sprawled out on the floor at Kelli's feet.

"Mother fucker," spat James. He was advancing on Henry to likely kick him while he was down, But Kelli stopped him. "Enough, James, he's down." Said Kelli, her voice filled with shock and dismay.

She went to Henry, but he pushed her away. "Henry? What's this all about? I mean really."

"He wants more than sex, Kelli. He wants you. He wants to break us up!" said Henry.

The argument was on and Henry got more and more agitated. "Henry, you are simply out of control. You need to leave," said Kelli, not really realizing how badly her words hurt him.

"Huh? This is my house…"

"Get out, Henry, I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. You've lost it. And, in about two more minutes of this you've lost me. So get out. Call me in a day or two."

Henry was stunned. "Kel—you can't mean…"

Kelli wasn't sure how she felt, but she was certainly angry and she'd said what she'd said, again, not even realizing the words that were coming out of her mouth. "I mean it."

Henry took one last malevolent look at the naked James and turned to go. He got in his car and drove. After a long while he realized he had no clothes or anything. He drove back to the house. He wasn't sure why, but the excuse was to get his clothes.

As he pulled up in front, he saw them. Kelli had had similar thoughts. Two suitcases, his, were on the front porch. He retrieved them; there was a note attached. It had been written by James. "She's mine now asshole; don't come back."

Henry couldn't think. He read the noted crumbled it, and threw it on the ground. The breeze took it under the crawl space beneath the house. He took the suitcases and left. Kelli watched him go from behind the window drapes. She was angry, but she did feel sad for him; jealousy had finally gotten to him, she thought. She wondered about the note; James must have written it.

Henry had been jealous over the past year; he had been humiliated. But, he had never been at a place in his mind and soul that was even close to where he was now: his heart was broken, the sickest feeling a human can know.

**

He called in to his secretary, and told her he was taking sick leave. He had the leave time accumulated and so there was no question about his being free to take the leave. But it was strange: he had not missed a day of work in twenty years. Everyone at his office talked about it, about his taking leave. It became water-cooler topic of the year.

After picking up his bags, he had driven around for hours. Finally exhausted and sick at heart, he'd pulled into the parking lot of a cheap hotel on Main Street; it was the boundary between the downtown business center and skid row. Used to staying at Hilton-esque establishments; this was a significant come down for him.

Kelli, at the house, kissed James goodbye, and felt sorry for him too. She was fond of James, and she didn't feel that she had given Henry reason to feel threatened. She made a date for James to come over the next day. Henry would call and beg her to take him back probably before the day was out; she knew him well. But, apparently not well enough.

After two weeks of wandering the streets, eating little, and crying his eyes out almost every night: Henry was at his wits end. It was then that he met Annie. Annie had no last name, at least none she could remember; she'd been on the streets since her husband ran out on her thirty years before.

Henry needed a friend. And though Annie was used to the streets, she did too. They met for coffee almost every morning after that; he paid, and Annie was grateful. At least Kelli hadn't closed his checking account or anything like that. He wondered if James would try to influence her in that way. Well, so far not.

Annie offered Henry advice, and they cried together over their respective spouses. At sixty-six years of age, Annie was hurting, and obviously in need of something. She got to stay in City shelters during cold weather; being a senior citizen had its advantages. But it was too early in the season for a city bed yet, so she huddled under an old army blanket most nights. Dense, though he undoubtedly was as to the ways of humanity, it finally occurred to Henry to offer her a place to stay; his hotel room, with him.

Annie was grateful, and said so. She did all she could to not be a burden or a bother to her benefactor. She was the new "aunt" in his life.

Kelli was at first concerned, then angry again, then a malaise set in. She didn't know how she felt. But, she did wonder about her husband. Where was he? He had called in at work. His secretary promised to call her if he checked in.

Kelli considered looking for him, maybe using the PI that had helped her out in other matters, but no; he'd made his bed, now he had to lie in it. If he never came back that was his problem. She had done nothing wrong, so she reasoned. Time passed. Then one day…

**

"Hi James, I'll be ready in a minute," she said.

"Take your time, beautiful," he said. He'd been smart enough not to bring up his problem with Henry since the blow up three months before.

Henry was still missing in action, and Kelli was still worried, but the female stubborn streak in her continued to block her from acting on her inner voice.

They were in a restaurant where, in recent weeks, she and James had become noticeable as an item. "Kelli, I know it's been but a few months since Henry left. But, I think it's time we had a talk," he said.

"We talk all of the time, James," she said.

"Kelli, I want to marry you."

"What? What are you saying? I have a husband?" she said confused.

"Do you? Where is he? I could never leave without fighting for you," said James.

"As I recall, he did fight for me, and he lost," said Kelli, slightly exaggerating Henry's physicality with James those months before.

"Kelli, I want to win. I want to win you. Marry me."

"James, I'm already married, and it's forever. I am fond of you, well, I am fond of your cock," she laughed, trying to lighten the mood, "but Henry and I will eventually get things fixed. Understand me; I'm not blaming you for any of this, but whatever it is, it's between me and my man, not between us—you and me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kelli, he's gone, and you need a man, a real man," he said.

Suddenly Kelli saw it: the possessiveness in the man across from her, and it frightened her. She wanted her cuckold back, not this overbearing—cocksman.

"I'm going to go James. Oh, and do not come around anymore. We're quits. I should have realized it a long time ago. Well, I realize it now. Geezsus, I hope I haven't lost my husband over this, over you! My gawd! what have I done."

Just like that she was up, out, and calling a cab on her cell. It was time to start the hunt for her man.

Voluntary Cuckold; Part 10

by: Matt Moreau

Kelli is beside herself. She had kicked out her husband because he was being crazy unreasonable. She has kicked out the reason for her husband being unreasonable, her lover, because he was being crazy possessive and demanding. She couldn't win. Both men had done what they had done out of professed love for her.

She loved Henry, but she wanted James, at least on occasion. She had made up her mind that whatever it took she was going to get Henry back; James could be replaced—probably.

Over the next few days she got a ton of unasked for but kindly meant advice from all of the musketeers. Finally, she decided to sit down with the undisputed mentor of the group, Ida Marston.

"You can get him back, Kelli, but you have to go about it the right way. He's hurt and embarrassed, and probably very lonely right now. To put it mildly he's in shitsville."

"I didn't think that I had done anything wrong, but I had!" complained Kelli.

"You didn't, not at first at any rate. Henry had no business trying to bite James' dick off; geezsus that's funny. He should have talked to you after the man had gone home. Explained things to you, how he felt, you then should have listened, really heard him."

"I know, but I didn't. In the back of my mind, I must have seen this coming. But, I didn't, I guess," said Kelli.

"A cuckold's feelings are very delicate, Kelli. We've talked about that before. The one thing the wife of a cuckold must always keep in mind is that crystal thin set of feelings. Do whatever you want with you cuckold slave, but never leave him with any doubt as to your love for him. If you remember that, you will never have any problem at all," said Ida.

"Gawd, how he must be hurting out there," said Kelli. "I feel like such a cruel bitch!"

"You're not a bitch of any kind. You are just still a little bit new at this: only a year or so of experience. Anyway, we're going to get your man back. And he's going to beg your forgiveness when we do," said Ida.

"Him beg me? I'm gonna be begging him," said Kelli.

"Oh no you're not." Said Ida, "That won't do at all. You have to remember, Henry is a voluntary cuckold. He wants to be your slave. He wants to hear about your latest lover and how he fucked you. He wants to be denied; it's his way of worshipping you. He needs his cuckoldhood. You mustn't take that away from him, not after this."

"But…"

"Don't mistake feeling sorry for him as being the same thing as your having to be sorry for something you did. I'll say it again. You didn't do anything wrong. True you didn't understand the situation correctly at first blush, but it wasn't you who blew it; it was the two males, and that you can take to the bank," said Ida.

"Well, what should I do, Ida, I just can't think straight today," said Kelli.

"We're going to call our private dick, Ed Miller, and put him on it. He'll find him. Then he'll tell us, and we'll go rescue our little fellow."

Kelli started to cry. "I'm so glad you're my friend, Ida. I really…"

"Me too, Kel, I need you too," she said. And, Ida began to cry.

**

Ed Miller was not the most expensive and probably not the best PI in town, but he was pretty good. Still, he was having trouble finding the missing hubbie. He knew he'd find him sooner or later, but his clients wanted it to be sooner, a lot sooner!

Regardless, thought Ed, this guy had to be nuts not to be running back to his wife, even crawling back if he had to: she was one hot babe, and madly in love with the idiot too, go figure. Well, he'd find him; he always found the missing love interest, no matter what; it's what he did for a living.

It had been three days, and he'd gotten eleven calls, by actual count, from the distraught wife.

Well, if one couldn't find somebody the easy way, read the cheap way, put the word out and pass around a Ben Franklin or two. On the fifth day—bingo!

He sighted the man with a woman, a much older woman; he took a few high resolution pictures. The two were a strange looking pair; they were shopping for groceries, well, everybody had to eat, he said to himself.

It had been on account of the woman that it had been so hard to find the guy. He'd been looking for a guy alone. No matter, he had him now.

He pulled out his cell and made the call. "Yeah, I've got him… he's shopping… got a woman with him… no-no-no an old woman… maybe seventy… yeah really… yeah an hour… I'll be here or wherever they lead me." He hung up. Shadowing the pair, he couldn't bring himself to call them a couple, was easy: they had no clue.

Forty-five minutes later, he felt his cell vibrate; he answered it. "Yeah… 1445 Braxton… your right around the corner… meet yuh at the drug store… okay… Yeah, we'll go in from there." He hung up.

Ida had driven her; she'd been too nervous to do it herself, and she needed someone near with a clear focus. Kelli knew she was going to be too emotional. And, who was this elderly woman he was with?

Ed Miller, with Kelli and Ida in tow, led the way to the hotel. Inside they noted the clean but dingy décor and surroundings. Kelli couldn't remember being in a place so—something. Well, at least it didn't smell bad. Ed went up to the counter to speak to the lady behind it.

He came back to the two women. "They're in 315. Cost me twenty bucks to get the info," he said.

"Bill me," said Ida.

"You want me to stick around?" said Ed.

"No, we can take it from here," said Ida. Kelli nodded her agreement.

Ed nodded to his two favorite clients and strode out. Kelli wondered what PI's did when they were finally finished with a job. Go to a bar maybe? Celebrate? She was shaken out of her reverie by a focused Ida.

"Come on, girl, wake up, we gotta go."

"They took the elevator. Getting off on the third floor they saw the room indicators on the far wall: rooms 301 to 308 arrow left; rooms 311 to 316 arrow right. Henry's room was almost to the end of the corridor. They went right.

The moment of truth! The last she'd seen her husband he was not himself. Surely he had calmed himself in these past months, but would he be holding a grudge or hate her or would he already have met someone else? Surely he could not be having an affair with a septuagenarian. Well, she'd know soon enough. She was startled when Ida knocked.

Nothing for a moment; then, the door opened and a plain, tired looking woman of some years was standing there looking at them, waiting.

"Is Mr. Caulfield in?" said Ida. Kelli was speechless.

"Henry," called the elderly lady.

Henry came to the door. He was holding a small dish towel and drying his hands. "What's up, Annie…"

He stood there stunned. For her part, Kelli had begun to cry. No words had yet been spoken. Annie broke the impasse.

"This is her isn't it?" said Annie.

"Uh—yes," said Henry. He dropped his hands to his sides. He was still holding the damp towel. "Uh, I was just finishing up with the dishes—I didn't expect—"

Kelli moved toward him wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. It was the gentlest, sweetest kiss he had ever gotten in his life. Dropping the towel he wrapped his arms around her.

"I am so sorry, Kelli…"

"Shut up and just hold me you stinker," she said half laughing and half crying.

The group went downstairs to the little café that was the hotel's main and really only claim to luxury.

Kelli and Henry sat in one booth talking and crying and holding hands and just being with each other. Ida, meanwhile, had taken Annie to another booth where they talked and Ida got the lowdown on the past several months and all of the happenings and feelings included thereof. She and Kelli would have a lot to talk about in a day or two, but not today. Today was make up and cry day.

Kelli, pulling her husband along behind her, came back to her friend's booth and announced that it was time to go home.

Henry went up to Annie. "Annie, thanks for everything. I…"

Ida broke in, "Annie will be fine, Henry, she's coming to work for us at the agency."

"Hey, that's great," said Henry.

"Yes," said Annie, "there's still a few things that I can do, I guess."

Henry kissed her on the cheek and turned to his wife. Kelli looked very serious, but it was clear she was relieved, as relieved as she had ever been.

**

Being home seemed strange to Henry. It had been but three months, but it seemed like an age. He was antsy too. He felt uneasy. How should he act? Kelli was happy. He knew he'd gotten the love of his life back, but he was afraid he was going to queer the deal somehow. He had no reason to think so, but he did nonetheless. So he said so.

"What do we do now, love of my life," he said.

"Well, I was thinking that we should go to bed. And, I was thinking that you should fuck the living daylights outta me," she said giggling.

"Me? But I thought…"

"Today is our wedding day. We need to consummate our vows," she said interrupting him. "You know, I haven't had a cock inside of me since I sent James running for cover. You need to make up for that."

"I will do my damndest," he said more fervently than anything he had every said in church.

"You better, big boy," she said.

Ten minutes later they were naked. She was on her back with her legs spread wide crooking her finger at him to come to her and do her. He was just standing there looking at her as at an object of worship. He climbed on the bed and on to her. His body melded with hers and he began to assault her lips with a seemingly endless parade of kisses. Gawd! she was kissable, he thought.

He couldn't wait. He started pushing his cock into her with little or no foreplay apart from his kisses. He had to have her and he would apologize later for his lack of consideration, and he would make up for it in triplicate.

"Ugh, anxious are we?" she said. "Oh my gawd! You're inside of me. Oh-oh-oh yes, do me. Slow down. Oh my…"

He fucked her for some minutes before he began to stiffen; he unloaded a ton of white stuff into her and washed her insides in it. He lay monetarily flushed and fatigued.

He slithered down her body and began cleaning her. Now it was her interests that he was serving, and she adored him for it. Soon she was trembling and jerking and moaning and crying out and finally sagging back into the sheets. "Fuck that was good," she said. "You do have a magnificent tongue husband mine."

He knew what she meant. He was great at oral but no great shakes at fucking. She hadn't said it, but he knew it was true. Average just wasn't good enough for a woman of her class, not even.

They lay comfortable for a while kissing and touching. Then they fell asleep.

They slept for hours. Henry awoke first. He was lost in thought. He did not notice her awake and watching him.

"Whatcha thinkin' baby?" she said.

He turned to her. "Of you. Of us. Where do we go from here?" he said. "I never want to disappoint you again," he said.

"Where do you want to go?" she said.

He just looked at her afraid to speak his mind.

"Honey, we've had a rough patch. But, we have never been secretive or dishonest with each other, not ever. Tell your wife what you are thinking."

"I just want you to be happy. I need to know what will accomplish that in order to answer you," he said.

"You should have been a politician," she laughed.

"Would you want to keep seeing other men?" he said. His voice was very tentative.

"How would you feel if I did," she said.

"I would be fine with it," he said. "I loved being your cuckold. I would love it again. But again, only if you wanted it, I really mean that."

"Then, I can say unequivocally that I would adore having other men bang me," she said. "But that said, I think that for the next few days you and I need to get to know each other again; I mean before I begin denying you. You need that, and so do I."

He rolled over on top of her and began kissing her passionately, honestly. Gawd! how he loved this woman. "You are fucking wonderful," he said.

Kelli lay still and submitted to her man. Ida's words kept coming back to her to the effect that Henry was a natural cuckold, and that her cuckolding him was all that would make him happy. It did seem that she had pegged him exactly.

For the next few days he screwed her two and three times a day and almost made her come at least four of those times. He was no James, or even a John Raulerson, but he was earnest and he was trying. She loved him more than ever. Her job as she saw it for the moment was to rebuild his confidence in her and in their marriage; she was succeeding in both respects.

Kelli still felt bad about kicking him out. He was her husband and she should never have done it, but that was water under the bridge and she had to make it up to him somehow.

She had talked to Ida no fewer than three times during the week, and the older woman's advice kept her on the right track. Kid gloves, a lot of sex, involve him in your thoughts and plans, Kelli, and make him love you like crazy; then, you win, you both do. Kelli loved her friend and silently swore to be there for her if the time ever came that she needed her.

It was Saturday: eight days after they had reunited. Kelli, rose early and made breakfast. She had a plan, and she was about to test it.

"Morning ladybug," said Henry coming down to the smell of coffee and sizzling bacon.

"You too," she said.

Breakfast done, they were sitting across from each other sipping their coffee.

"Do you feel it in the air?" she said.

"Hmm?"

"The time is right, Henry."

He nodded. He knew what she was saying. "You're going to deny me."

"Yes. It's time. Don't you feel it?"

"Yes. My how I love you," he said, gratitude welling up and spilling over. He was a cuckold again, and happy to be one.

"We are going to the Crossroads tonight. I talked to the other girls. The Crossroads tonight and the club on Thursday next."

He nodded. He understood. She was going to be fucked by other men, men who knew how to do it better than he did. She needed to be, and he was content.

"You okay with that?" she said. "I know it's a little bit soon, but…"

"Very okay," he said. "It is your happiness that I want to see to. Thank you for the opportunity."

The Crossroads was crowded. Kelli and the other women were sought out seemingly endlessly by men looking for a good time, and the girls saw to it that they got it.

The cuckolds for their part stood jealously at the bar watching, and every once in a while, paid a bill presented to them by one of the bar girls to cover their wives drinks and those of the men importuning them.

Kelli disappeared at one point, and Henry looked anxious. Ida pulled Henry aside to assure him of her safety. "She's out in the car, mine," she said. "Some cowboy is banging her. She'll be back in soon. Relax. Be a good little cuckie." She smiled at him as she noted the bulge in his pants and his obvious relief that Kelli had not left the premises.

"Thank you, ma'am. I really needed to know that."

"I know," she said."

"Everything okay," said John.

"Yes, fine. Ida clued me," he said.

"I hear you're back to work," said John.

"Yes, started back on Monday."

"Call me Monday when you get into the office. I think I might have a big deal for you: a union. I do some management stuff for them and it looks like they may need coverage for its nine thousand workers. Could be a very big deal."

Henry eyed the man he had once wanted to kill for messing with him and his wife. "I will, and thanks a million, John. By the way, how's April been treating you lately."

"Famously. Look at her over there. She's gorgeous and sexy and cuckolding the heck outta me, and I love it."

"She is all of those things," laughed Henry.

At that moment, Clarence and Jack joined them. "You two sure pee a lot," said John half seriously.

"Some things won't wait," said Jack.

"Reckon not," said Henry smiling.

"I guess we're all good for next Thursday," said Jack.

"The club." said Clarence.

"Yes," said Henry. "My wife told me. I figure it will be a long night for me."

"The rest of us too," said Jack

Three hours later they were on their way home. "He fucked me like a brahma bull," she said. "I was in actual pain."

"You should have called me," he said. "I would have defended you."

"Henry, husband mine, my cowboy would have had you for breakfast. You're a cuckold not a fighter. I need you to learn that. I don't want you hurt. Remember that." She giggled at the thought of her husband taking on a tough-ass cowboy like the guy who had just fucked her. But, it was a delicious thought.

**

The club was busy this Thursday night. All of the charter cucks were chained to door jambs and their wives were all being fucked silly.

Ida and Kelli had been fucked early and were in the newly refurbished bar tipping glasses of wine back and enjoying themselves. All was right with the world at that moment. Kelli would have liked to have had her cuck beside her to share her good feeling with, but he was busy cleaning rooms and thinking about other guys screwing her; he had his place and he was there, just like he was supposed to be.

"Mrs. Caulfield?" said one of the cucks serving in the barroom.

She and Ida both looked up. It was one of the young newbies. His wife was likely getting her pussy assaulted somewhere upstairs right now. She noticed that he was careful not to look her in the eyes. His gaze was focused on the floor just as it should have been. His name tag said "Mark."

"Yes, Mark?"

"Someone here is asking for you. She is not a member. At least I don't think she is," he said.

"Really?" Kelli looked at Ida.

"Bring her in, cuckie," said Ida.

"Yes, ma'am." He strode off to retrieve the visitor.

Visitors were not generally allowed. Membership was by invitation and by sponsorship only. It was a question how a stranger might have heard of the club. Both of the musketeers were curious.

In a minute's time Mark reappeared with a twenty-something redhead. She was pretty but not movie star-so. Slim, maybe five-four, with hair to her waist: she was a sweet little package. She was also a complete stranger to either of the women.

Mark made himself scarce as soon as he had completed his mission.

"Hello," said the newcomer. "Are you miss Caulfield?" she addressed Ida.

Ida nodded toward her soulmate.

The visitor changed her orientation. "Miss Caulfield, my name is Jenna, Jenna Wolcott."

"I now that name," said Ida.

"Me too," said Kelli, "but I can't…"

"I'm Jerry Wolcott's wife—er, ex-wife. The divorce was final last week," she said.

"Your ex works for John Raulerson." Said Ida. It was coming back to her. She and Kelli had had that brief run-in with him at The Raulerson's house that day when they had gone there to support April."

"Yes, yes," said Kelli remembering too. "You say ex. So you divorced him, you say."

"Yes, four years were enough," she said. "He was not a nice man."

The two older ladies looked at each other, mutual in their empathy for the girl.

"Well, what can we do for you, Jenna?" said Ida.

"And, how did you hear about us, I mean this place," said Kelli.

"Well, my new boyfriend told me about this place. He knew what it was about, and it sounded like something we would like to join. Well, at least I would. Like I say, I know what it's about, and it sounds real interesting to me," she said.

"Okay," said Ida, "I'll bite. What is it that you think we do here?"

"It is a place where women who are tired of being neglected, or even abused, take their husbands and boyfriends to be cuckolded, to bring them under their thumbs, even to punish them. My new love is willing to serve me and understands what being a cuckold is all about."

"Really," said Kelli. "Okay, but do you?"

"Yes, ma'am. Now I do. My new love has explained it all to me, and he wants to share me and love me and serve me, just like you ladies are served and loved by your husbands," said Jenna.

"So, where is this new boyfriend of yours, Jenna." Said Ida.

"He's outside in the car. I told him to wait for me, and I would see if we could come in or what."

"Wait," said Ida. "How did you know to ask for Mrs. Caulfield?"

"My lover boy knew the name. He wouldn't say from where. He asked me not to tell you his name," she said.

"Well, that's not going to work, Jenna. Here the men are short on rights and long on service, as you seemed to have understood."

"Oh, I know that ma'am. He says he'll come in and explain himself if you will allow him to."

"Hmm," said Ida. "Strange."

"What can it hurt," said Kelli.

Ida raised her hands in an "I guess it wouldn't gesture."

"Well, okay, Jenna, go get your mystery cuck."

"Cuck? I like that," she said, "it sounds like…"

"Yes, we know what it sounds like. Just go get him. We'd like to meet him and then we can talk about you becoming members," said Kelli.

"Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am," she said.

As the girl strode off to fetch her honey, Ida looked at Kelli. "Well, whatever." She said.

"Really."

Five minutes later, Mark arrived with the pair.

Kelli looked up and almost lost her lunch. "It can't be!"

"You two know each other," said Jenna with a suddenly knitted brow.

Ida just sat there with her mouth hanging open. It was one of the few times in her life that she found herself utterly speechless.

"Yes, we do, honey," said Kelli.

"Hello, James," said Kelli. "To say this is unexpected would be an understatement of heroic proportions."

"No shit," said Ida, finally finding her voice.

"Won't be a problem, Kel. I'm Jenna's slave now. I know my place and she—well we—would really like to join if you could see your way clear…"

Kelli held up her hand to stop him in mid-sentence. She looked over at Ida for guidance.

Ida nodded. "I guess if he is going to know his place."

"The cucks don't mess with each other's wives, James—ever. You understand that. Your Jenna's in all matters public and private or you're not here. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay then. Show up here tomorrow, and you will get the tour and learn the system, both of you."

As they marched out the two musketeers watched as Jenna gave him the third degree. Kelli wondered if Jenna had purchased a cane yet. She and Ida were going to have to have a talk with her soon.

"Should be a hoot," said Ida.

-----------------------------

   Series:Why Me?
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:The complications for this guy were more than remarkable.
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/72572/why-me
Published:2012-11-07
We're the Fowlers: Dana and Gordon. Common age thirty-one. Married right out of high school: that makes thirteen years ago as of the first of next month. Dana's a beautician, learned the trade on the job working for Julia's Styles, a shop catering mostly to ladies with blue hair. I'm a short haul truck driver for Drummond Trucking, freight haulers. I'm never gone more than one day in a row, and most times home by five or six every night.

Maybe this would be a good place to describe us a little, physically that is; I mean before we get into the story per se. Dana's slender; tall, at five-eight; and pretty. Me? I'm a shade under five-seven; stocky, at one-seventy-five; hard bodied and strong-I bench 315 for reps. Did a little silver and golden gloves when I was younger. Did pretty good too, made it regional finals when I was seventeen.

At any rate, lookswise, and otherwise, Dana's way out of my league; but none of that's ever been an issue; well, until lately. Okay, and sex…

Sex between Dana and me has been good ever since we were seniors in high schools. I got her cherry, and she got mine the night of homecoming. But sex between us now is more than problematical, and I do mean more than! Oh and we have one daughter, Jessica, my pride and joy.

******

"I love you, Gordie, and no one else. Always have always will. But… " she'd started.

"But, what, Dana? What's all of this about? Why did you come down here today?" I said.

She'd called my cell a couple of hours earlier and had made a date with me for lunch at one of the stops I was making that today. We were seated in a not too tacky café just outside of town. Burgers downed, and the iced teas refilled she'd morphed from pensive, and mostly uncommunicative in any real sense, to nervous and anxious.

"Gordie, I have a lover. I needed to tell you. I don't want you finding out the wrong way, and so I made the decision to out myself and put it out there for the two of us to talk about," she said.

I suppose I hadn't really heard her, or having heard, her words had not registered with me, with my conscious mind. "Huh?"

"I have a lover, Gordie. He's a nice guy. But, just a part time thing. You know on the side. No threat to us, no threat at all. But, that said, I know you may see things differently than they in fact are. Anyway, I had to tell you," she said.

I was finally coming to grips with the meaning of her words. I was suddenly sick to my stomach. "No threat to us? What does that mean?" I said. She seemed to relax at hearing my words-that is-my tone which an outside observer might have described as matter-of-fact. I wasn't raving. I figured that had been the reason she wanted to out herself in a public place instead of at the house: she was afraid I might lose it. Well, and while that was not an impossibility; I probably wouldn't be doing that being the kind of person I thought myself to be.

"It means that what he and I do, in the best of all possible worlds, will not have any effect on you and me at all. I do not want a divorce. And, I repeat, I love you, not him. And, I am here to beg you to accept my proposal," she said.

"Proposal?" I said. I was pretty sure my less than boisterous reaction to her pronouncement was making an impact; I just wasn't sure what kind.

"Yes. After we leave here today, I am hoping that things between us will still be good. And, while I know it's going to be impossible for you to forget what I've told you; that's kind of what I am hoping you will try to do. Or, if not forget, which as I say I know would be hard, at least ignore what I've told you. I need you to consider what I said today as my being honest and up front with you and not a slap in your face, at least not that," she said.

I found myself feeling very calm almost detached from what she was saying, roiling stomach or no. The love of my life, my high school sweetheart had betrayed me. The mother of our thirteen year-old daughter, Jessica, was risking it all to fuck some other man-how did she say it-on the side. Calm, yes, I was calm, weirdly so at least outwardly.

I'd figure out what I was going to do sooner or later, but for the moment, I needed solitude.

"I see," I said. "Well, okay, I guess we'll be talking some more later." I could feel my voice beginning to crack, but I was still holding it together. "But, before you ask, I don't know what I am going to do right at the moment," I said. And, the truth was that I didn't. I loved her, and I loved our daughter; and whatever I decided to do would have to take into account those two very cogent realities.

"Okay, honey. Just please consider that I do love you, and I am praying that we can make it through this," she said. She rose to go. No kiss, no hug, she just rose to go; and then she was gone. And I was left to the rest of my day and my thoughts.

******

"How did he take it?" said Hiram Rogers.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. He didn't lose it like you thought he might. He just said that we'd be talking later," said Dana. "But, I made one big ass mistake, I just walked out. I didn't kiss him or hug him or anything. I guess I was just trying to retreat as fast as I could before he did lose it."

"Really? I'm surprised. Most husbands would either cry in their beer or lose it big time. But, you say he was just kind of matter-of-fact. You think he might be playing on the side himself? I mean… " he started. She gave him a look.

"What? Uh-no. Not my Gordie, not even," she said. He nodded, but looked dubious.

"I don't know. The way you say he reacted just doesn't seem normal to me," said Hiram.

"Well, if there is one thing I'm sure of is that Gordon Fowler would never cheat on me," she said. The hypocrisy of her words didn't seem to register with either of them.

"Whatever, I think it's time we did our thing," he said, smiling. "And, you and I will be talking later too." He began to strip. She matched him garment for garment.

Naked he moved to her and began exploring her body with his hands. She giggled as his fingers invaded the cleft of her buttocks and poked obscenely at the sphincter of her anus.

"Looking for some candy to go with your whipped cream," she mocked.

"Absolutely," he said. Pulling his fingers from her behind, he licked them clean. "Nice." She smiled her appreciation.

"Hmm, my turn," she said. She went to her knees and took hold of his eight inch penis. Stroking it a few times, she leaned in and let it slip between her lips. She began sucking on it. He jerked spasmodically as the sensation rocked his sexual world. Ready, he pulled her up, and turned her around. She leaned over the seat of the chair in front of her and spread her legs wide for him.

He poked at her pussy and gained an almost immediate lodgement. He began seesawing in and out of her. She grunted and moaned and dribbled spit down her cheeks as he took her. As usual he was able to last some minutes: long enough for her to stiffen announcing the arrival of another shattering climax, the main reason she was cheating on her husband. Her Gordon could never give her what her Hiram did. Guilt? Yes. If she had to choose, and she hoped she never would: Gordon Fowler was way better than Hiram in every other way but in bed. The climaxes that her Hiram gave her were irreplaceable. God how she feared the conversation she would be having with her husband just a few hours hence.

******

"No, Jimmy, my dad would never allow me to date a senior in high school; so just eat your heart out," giggled Jessica Fowler. "Just forget it."

"Okay, Jess, but I like you a lot even if I am four years older than you. And, I'd have no problem meeting your dad and asking his permission myself," said James Colby.

She watched the captain of the Central High football team walk off and away from her. Too bad, she thought, he's hot.

******

I was done early, but decided not to go directly home. I needed a drink. I needed it real bad. The Hard Hat, my favorite watering hole, was but fifteen minutes from the house, and the bartender Christina Mosely loved me and took care of all of my alcoholic needs.

I was hardly even seated before my favorite brand of Tennessee refreshment was in front of me. "Thanks, girl, I figure to need a few of these before the night is over," I said. She looked me askance. I knew she'd be probing for more info before too long.

I sat there sipping my drink and trying to figure how I was going to handle the disaster of my domestic situation. I knew I'd have to go home sooner or later. But, what then? What should I do or say to her when I did. And what about my junior high school daughter. Did she know? Should she know if she didn't already? Would she take her mother's side or mine? Mine I decided, at least in the short run.

And, who the hell was she fucking. It just occurred to me that I had asked almost no questions about her liaisons. I would be. But, when I did, would she be forthcoming or try to keep me in the dark? I had never hurt her or anyone outside of the ring, and that had been when I was a kid. I was still in shape working out as I did four days a week at Maximo's gym. Dana knew I could fight, but she'd never actually seen me. She had seen my trophies; they were at my parents' house upstate. But, I'm not sure she actually knew what I could do. Thinking about it, though, that might have been another reason that she outted herself: to keep her lover from being beat like a cur dog. But, then again, who really knew? I sure didn't.

"So, hot shot, you have that look. Wifey giving you trouble?" said Tina.

"You could say that. She informed me today that she loved the hell outta me, but that she'd taken a lover on the side, and hoped I didn't mind," I said.

"You're fucking with me," said Tina-and yes everybody called her Tina; she'd always preferred it to her given name.

"No, no I'm not. That is exactly what she hit me with. So, now I have to figure what I'm going to do," I said.

"Well, how about divorcing her and marrying me?" said Tina.

"Yeah, like you'd marry me even if I did divorce her," I said.

"You think I'm pretty, right?" she said.

"Well, of course. You're stunning. Way out of my league. But, then, almost all the girls are," I said, meaning it.

"You are a helluva nice guy, Gordon. Super-duper handsome, no, but not too bad. A woman like me could easily fix most of your problems.

"What's your dick size?" she said. She wasn't smiling.

"Huh? What? Jesus, Tina, is nothing sacred with you?" I said.

"Not much," she said.

"Six-inches," I said, "maybe a trace over that. Not exactly imposing." She smiled, and left to fill an order at the other end of the bar. I went back to sipping my drink.

She was back in what was likely about a minute and a half.

"Okay, your wifey is fucking around on you. Leaving aside answering my question as to whether or not you'd marry me after you divorced her. There is another option," she said.

"Instead of going home tonight, shack up with me. Fuck me good and proper and then go home in the morning with your ego mended," she said.

"Huh? Are you serious?" I said.

"As a heart attack," she said. I looked at her, stared at her, and made a decision.

"Yes," I said. "Yes, indeed."

My cell began going off at around 6:30. It was her right enough. I turned it off and settled in to wait for Tina to get off that would be at 9:00PM.

******

We walked to her place: it was just around the corner from the bar. I'd already had three JDs, and had cut myself off after that in view of the evening's goal: a very pretty red head's pussy.

"Convenient," I said. After the three minute walk. She smiled.

"I'm going to change. You get comfortable," she said. I nodded my obedience.

I just walked around the front area, peaked into the kitchen, and waited.

"Checking me out?" she said, noticing my noticing her place.

"No, just killing time," I said. "Oh, and you are absolutely stunning."

"Well, thank you," she said. She was stark naked and I was drooling. "You can strip now unless you want to wait for later."

I didn't even answer her. I just began shedding clothes while making every effort to keep my eye on her shaved pubes. Naked, I went to her and fell to my knees.

"Way out of my league," I said, worshipping her. I leaned in and kissed her secret place. She took hold of the back of my head and pulled me in tight against her pussy. I began licking and sucking her as I had never licked and sucked a woman before, not even my wife. This was one very hot babe. She shuddered and pushed me away. She lay down on the floor and spread her legs for me. Still on my knees, I shuttled over to her and stared.

"Jesus, you're a beautiful woman," I said.

"Of course," she said. "And if you divorce your whore, you can have me all to yourself for the rest of our lives." I just nodded. I wasn't quite sure why a woman like her, so good looking, and younger than me, was so interested in a joe-average like me, but that was a question to be answered another day.

I climbed on top of her and began poking to gain entry. She grabbed my cock and guided it to where it needed to go. I pushed and pulled for a few moments and then, lodged in, I drilled her.

"Uhg!" she blurted.

I began doing her. "That's it, big boy, fuck me. And, do a good job of it."

I did my level best to last as long as I could. Eleven minutes later she twitched and moaned and I emptied myself into her. I rolled off to the side breathing hard.

"Not bad," she said. "Yes, I think you'll do."

"Glad you liked it," I said.

It was a Wednesday night. I had to work the next day. I had to go home to get clothes. I had planned to stay the night with Tina, and I would next time-if there was to be a next time. But, on this night I needed to get home and face a no doubt irate wife. Tina understood.

After thanking her profusely for saving my sanity and maybe my heart, I headed on home. Oh, and we'd made a date for the following Friday night: she had a 9:00 o'clocker that night, but Saturday she closed.

******

It was after midnight. The house was dark except for the usual night light in the kitchen.

She was sitting in the living room on the couch. "Okay, Gordon, is this some kind of statement," she said. Well, the best defense is a good offense.

"Hmm, I guess you could make a case for that, Dana. But, as to that, I'm not really sure," I said.

"Look, I outted myself to try and spare us all of the drama that would have to follow if I hadn't," she said. "Please just deal with it, okay?" Her words darkened my mood.

"Hmm, drama. Yes, deal with it. Yes, I guess this, situation, is kind of dramatic isn't it. Of course if you were an honest and faithful wife, there wouldn't be any drama," I said.

"Gordie, I told you those things to be honest with you; to make it so that you and I could be even better than we have been. Well, that was my goal," she said.

"Okay. But, I have a couple of questions for you. Answer me honestly, give me the straight skinny, and I'll do the same," I said. Stonewall me, and we may as well just go to bed and forget everything-and I do mean including us."

"Gordie! You're not thinking of doing anything stupid are you?" she said.

"I don't know. What qualifies as being stupid from your point of view," I said.

"Goorrrddddiiee…"

"Question, Dana, why?" I said. She sagged back into the couch.

"He's a good lover. Really, the best I ever had," she said. I snickered.

"I suppose I'm supposed to conclude that that includes me? Me, mister inadequate. You sure no how to hurt a guy," I said. She looked shaken.

"Gordie, for God's sake I didn't mean to put you down, not even. You're good too. Okay. I mean it," she said.

"Just not good enough to lure you away from super dick, right Dana? Never mind. Okay, I can't fault your honesty-so far."

"Who is it?" I said.

"His name doesn't matter, Gordie. Really," she said.

"It does to me. Who is it? Tell me or were done, and then it really won't matter," I said. She stood and started pacing back and forth.

"Gordie, you really don't want to know. Drop it. Let it be," she said. I just stared at her. She started to head for the stairs. I followed her.

Inside the room, she headed for the bathroom and I headed for the closet. I was already packing the first of two suitcases that I'd retrieved, when she emerged in her nightgown.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"Leaving you," I said.

"What!" she all but screamed. "What about Jessica? What about our thirteen years together? What about our future plans?"

"All in the shitter. I guess the lawyers will be hashing out the custody issues. I do need to see and be around my baby. But, you and I? We're done. Your secret, his name, is apparently worth more to you than our marriage. That's unacceptable," I said. I continued to pack.

"Would you stay and try to get over this-challenge-if I gave up his name?" she said. I stopped, and looked at her.

"Unless it's my dad or brother or other close relative, I might be willing to make the effort or come to some kind of compromise," I said. She paced back and forth trying, I was sure, to decide if the risk was worth the possible blowback. She stopped and nodded.

"Okay. It's Hiram Rogers," she said. I know my face darkened. I started to sputter.

"My-my-my best friend?" I said. "My from-my-childhood best fucking friend!" I tried to calm down. It was the fucking cliché of cliché's.

"You said…"

"Yes, I said I might be willing to try. Okay, and I am. But, please let him know that he and I are quits. Oh, and he's never to come around here again. Not ever. Fuck him, do whatever you want to with him, but I never want to hear his name or see his face again. I don't want to end up in jail for beating him to death," I said.

"Gordon, he and I…"

"Just not around here. Okay?" I said. she nodded. "It's time to take your nee'r-do-well husband to bed. Let's go."

We were undressing. "Can I ask you a question, Gordon?" I shrugged. I kinda figured I knew what she was going to ask. I was right.

"Where were you tonight?" she said.

"At the Hard Hat," I said. She nodded.

I rolled over to my side of the bed. The scene was tense. But, after a short time she chanced it: she reached for my cock. I let her. After some few minutes I surprised to discover, and so was she, that I wasn't hard. She couldn't turn me on.

"Gordon?"

"Just don't feel like it, Dana. I guess, you put a pretty good hit on the old ego," I said. That was true of course. What was also true was the simple fact that I had come three times earlier in the evening.

I could hear her sniffling. "I'm sorry my husband. I thought that I was doing the right thing. I guess I was wrong." She rolled over and went to sleep. Well, I assume that that was the case.

******

"Jesus, you told him!" he said.

"Hiram, yes, I had to. He was packing to leave me. I had to. And what is almost worse than that was when I tried to make it up to him by fucking his eyes out, he couldn't get it up for me. That has never, I mean never happened before!"

"Well, that sure as hell puts an end to him and me," he said. "I guess it was inevitable."

"Yes, I'm afraid so. You're persona non-grata around the house now. He told me to tell you that," said Dana.

"He still doesn't know the biggee, right?" he said. "I mean about Jessica's…"

"No. And he must never," she said.

"I guess it's a damn good thing the two of them look a lot alike," he said. She shivered.

"Yes, he'd kill me, and him, if he knew," she said.

"On another point, Does he know how long? I mean us?"

"No. And, he didn't ask. If he had, I'm not sure I could have kept it from him. But, he didn't, so for the moment we're okay on that score," she said.

"Thank God! I'm gonna miss our family gatherings, but I guess it couldn't be helped. Sooner or later he'd have caught on, and it might have been even worse," he said.

"Yes for real," she said.

"I just had a bad thought," he said.

"Huh?"

"What if, you know, Jessica starts to notice that good 'ole uncle Hiram isn't coming around anymore. It could raise questions…"

"I don't know. I guess we'll just have to wait and deal with that issue if and when it ever comes up," she said. "Jesus, how could I have not thought of that!"

He went pensive. "I'm going to miss us all being one big happy family," he said. She nodded.

"Once the dust settles, we'll try to make amends with him," she said.

"Wouldn't that be something," he said. "I mean if he could be convinced to buy into what we're doing."

******

The Hard Hat was busy. Tina was running her ass off, and a beautiful ass it was too. I owed that gorgeous ass. She it was that pulled me out of the emotional frying pan at the very least.

"So, got anything for me tonight, cowboy?" she said coming up to me.

"Lots, but for the moment maybe you can help me find a fella name of Jack Daniels," I said.

"I believe he just arrived. I'll see what I can do," she said.

It was Friday night and we had a date for 9:30-an hour to go.

She was wiping down the bar in front of me. "Your wife know where you are?" she said.

"No, and I think she'd kind of pissed at me," I said. "She's home sitting with our daughter. I'm certain she wanted to go out tonight, but my going out first kind of short shanked her," I said. Tina smiled.

"Kind like got your licks in first, huh," she said. "I think I saw your wife once or twice in the past with you. She did look like she might be kinda feisty."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"She making nice. I mean after what she laid on you the other day?" said Tina.

"Yes, she's tried, but believe it or not I couldn't even get it up for her last night. Kind of scary, really," I said. Now, Tina laughed.

"Yeah will I had pretty well drained you if I recall. Anyway, I hope you won't be having any such trouble tonight," she said. "Wonder what she'll be doing with herself since she's obviously not going out with her mister studley."

Her words made me think. Babysitter? We didn't have one that we used with any regularity. Leave Jessica alone till one or the other of us got home. Have her boyfriend over to the house! No, no, she was irresponsible, but not that irresponsible; I was sure of that.

******

The second night with Tina was more or less a repeat of our first time together. I still couldn't think why she'd settled on me as a possible mate. Her reminders, that I would be well served to marry her, if my marriage did in fact implode, were just too unbelievable to take seriously, but she apparently was serious. There had to be a hundred guys came in to the Hard Hat with more money, were better looking, and probably with bigger dicks than me-so why me? It made no sense. But was I going to kick a gift horse in the mouth? Not on your life! Christina Mosely was primo female stock I was going to ride it as long as she'd let me.

I got in a little after 1:00AM. The place was dark. Well, it should have been.

"So, you finally decided to come home," she said. The sarcasm was palpable.

"And, that would bother you why? Because you didn't put in your bid for the night out before me," I said. And, yes the sarcasm was dripping from my facial orifice as well.

"You could have called," she said. "It wouldn't have killed you."

"Why, you never call me to let me know when you're out fucking your boyfriend-my ex best friend. The way I see it, what's good for you is sure as hell good for me," I said.

"Gordie, Hiram wants you to know he'd like to make things right by you if you'll let him," she said. This was intriguing, laughable, but yes intriguing.

"Really? And, what does he propose? Maybe promise to fuck you less than he has been?"

"No, not exactly. He's of the opinion that if we were include you, you know do threesomes…"

"Forget it. I don't willingly share my woman. But, I'm dealing with it as you let me know I had to do," I said.

"Gordie, I didn't mean it that way. I didn't mean to seem like I was issuing ultimatums. I don't know, I guess, I was kind of encouraging you. Yes, that's it I was encouraging you," she said.

"No harm no foul, Dana. You go out; I'm going out too. Where it'll all end is a mystery at the moment, at least to me, but sooner or later we'll both know, I suppose," I said.

"Where it's going to end? Young man, if it's up to me, it'll end with you and I being together and madly in love for the rest of our lives," she said.

"With or without your little something on the side?" I said. She looked away.

"Someday, you'll understand," she said. "Hiram is not threat to you. None!"

"And, that bothers me, Dana. Why is he no threat. He's a better lover than me; you said so. He makes as good a living. He's Taller than you instead of shorter. He's overweight, but not that bad looking. So why don't you just dump me and take up with him? I'd really like to know. It would seem like a no brainer to me, given what you think of me, for you to go with him," I said.

"Because, Gordon Fowler, you're the sweetest and kindest and gentlest bit of male flesh out there; and, you're the fath… " She'd stopped in mid-sentence. She was obviously about to include fatherhood in the equation, but stopped. Then it hit me.

"Dana?"

"Yes?

"What were you about to say, but didn't," I said.

"Nothing. It's just… " My eyes narrowed.

"Dana, am I Jessica's father?" I said. I said it very calmly, quietly.

Yes, of course you are silly. What a dumb question. No one could ever take your place in Jessica's heart." The words were right, but the tone was all wrong. I nodded, but I was not convinced. I'd be getting a blood test on my baby. I was AB negative, fairly rare type. I'd know by Monday morning.

******

Once again, I was sitting in the Hard Hat sipping my JD when she plopped down beside he. "Hi handsome," said Tina.

"Oh, hi Tina," I said. She gave me a quizzical look.

"My, down in the dumps today?" she said.

"Yeah, maybe. Jessica may not be my kid. Well, she is, but somebody else might have been the sperm donor. I'll know by Monday," I said.

"Oh wow!" she said. "Monday?"

"Yes, a blood test. I'm a rare bird. If she doesn't match then the shit's gonna hit the fan in technicolor," I said.

She joined me and we closed the place, oh and it was Sunday, her day off.

******

"Mom, why was daddy so quiet at dinner tonight," said Jessica. Her mother pretended not to hear her.

"Mom?" said Jessica.

"He's-he's-got a lot on his mind, Jess," said her mother.

"Mom…?"

"He'll be okay. Like I said, he's got a lot on his mind."

She could see that her daughter wasn't buying the party line. But, there was nothing she could do about it now. She'd finally come to the conclusion that outing herself was a big mistake, maybe the biggest of her life.

Jessica turned and headed into the den. Her dad was watching the tube. He never watched television unless it was a college football game.

"Daddy?" I looked up. I think my look was impassive.

"Yes, honey?" I said.

"Dad, what's wrong?" said Jessica.

"Nothing, honey girl, why do you ask?" I said.

"Daaddddyyyyy?" said Jessica.

"What? I'm tired is all. Got a lot on my mind."

"You and mom got your stories straight, but it's not the truth is it daddy," said Jessica. She saw him take a deep breath.

"Jessica, some things are for adults to deal with and some for young people like yourself. This is one of the adult things. You'll be brought into the loop if it ever seems useful to do so. Okay?" I said. I could see my tone of voice left her frustrated, but oddly a little less worried. Her daddy would take care of things; he always did.

*****

I parked in front of the clinic and hesitated. If I got out I'd be committed. I knew they had my babies medical records. She'd spent half a day in the ER the year before with an infection gotten during softball practice. The fly in the ointment was that they didn't have mine. But, I knew my blood type, and I'd know immediately if I went inside and asked what Jessica's was. And, knowing, I could be opening a whole new set of problems and challenges to deal with. So, again, I hesitated.

I steeled myself. I went inside. It was a slow day. There was just one other client or customer or whatever they called us drop-in-ers waiting to be helped.

The clerk at the front desk had me fill out a request form. She retreated into the back. Ten minutes later a nurse carrying a folder came out.

"Mister Fowler?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"All you needed was your daughter's blood type?" she said, she looked dubious.

"Yes," I said.

"Type O," she said. She smiled. I smiled. But, inside my heart my mind my stomach my soul concealed a typhoon of emotions carving a swath of anger and hurt and a sense of betrayal through me. Jessica was somebody else's biological child. But, she was mine-and only mine-in any possible world regardless of what the medical record indicated.

At that moment I hated my wife. When she'd laid out her cheating activities on me I'd initially thought to rationalize them. Figured maybe it was my fault in some way. But this? This was way different. This was her and some cheating fuckwad scumbag doing me very dirty! I would be handling this. I would be handling this for sure. But, first things first. Who was the bio dad?

******

I called in sick; hell, I was sick. By the time she got in from her half day at the salon, I was three sheets to the wind-good thing too; it'd make the fight we were going to have a little more even.

She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen when she saw me there. She must have sensed my mood. She put down her purse on the sink and tentatively took the seat opposite me.

"Gordie?"

"Dana," I responded.

"Huh?"

"Did I ever really know you, Dana?" I said. She looked away. She knew. She was putting the pieces together. Our semi-conversation of a few days before, my kind of aloofness since, all of it.

"It just happened," she said.

"Not that it matters an iota anymore, but I'dstill like to know. How long have I been your cuckold?" I said. Her head snapped up.

"Gordon Fowler you are not my cuckold. You are my husband, only that!" she said.

"Hmm, the definition of a cuckold, Dana, is a man whose wife has sex with another man and expects her husband to, if not like it, at least to 'deal with it'. You know like you told me I had to do," I said. Okay, I was refining the definition a little bit; it's the way I looked at it.

"I'm sorry for saying that to you. I didn't mean it that way, and that's the truth," she said.

"Really?"

"Yes," she said.

"Okay, then just what do you expect me to do, seeing as how you refuse to stop fucking Hiram," I said.

"Gordon-I don't know. I mean I need what you do for me, and I need the little something that Hiram does for me. But none of what I do with him is meant to demean you or the things you do for me in any way. He isn't your equal. He's not half the man you are, not even," she said.

"So, if I said I was going to leave you if you don't stop cuckolding me with him, you'd stop because I am twice the man he is, right?" I said. She looked down.

"That's what I thought. I am your cuckold, Dana, or was. And though a reluctant one, I was even willing to live with my humiliation until today," I said.

"Gordon, please, don't make me choose. I'll do anything else you say, but don't make me choose. Please!" she said. She began to sob.

"Choose? No, you won't have to choose because I'm choosing. I will be leaving. I'm already packed. Apart from in court, I am hoping that I don't have to set eyes on you ever again after this little sit down. I actually hate you, Dana," I said. "But, that said, I have one more question."

"Gordon! What are you saying! You can't mean…"

"I said I have one more question!" My voice shook the walls. She almost fell out of her chair with the shock of it.

"What?" she almost squealed.

"Who was Jessica's sperm donor? I need to know," I said.

"Huh? Wha…"

"Who fucked you and got you pregnant with Jessica? Who was her sperm donor?" I said.

"Gordon please. Can't we do something to get by this? I don't want to end us. I mean I really really don't want to," she said.

"Too late. Who was the sperm donor? I don't want to have to ask you again," I said.

"It doesn't matter, Gordie. It doesn't. It was so long ago, and the man has had no inkling that he did it to me. None," she said.

"Wait, wait, You saying the sperm donor doesn't know he's Jessica's biological father?" I said.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. He doesn't know and he never will know," she said. "I fucking don't want him to know. Why would I, you are Jessica's only dad-period!" I nodded.

She'd stopped me. I had assumed that whoever it was knew. Now, I had decisions to make. Now, I wasn't even sure that I wanted to know who it was. Talk about tough decisions. The only fly in the ointment-there were actually two- one, did Jessica have a right to know; and two, what if she needed an organ donation or such. As for the sperm donor per se; I didn't care if he lived or died.

******

I hadn't seen or talked to my adopted brother in a coon's age. My dad was still alive though my mom had died a year past, and he and my brother were my only close living relatives; and they lived up state. And, close was not real descriptive of us. The occasional holiday call, or other such occasion were just about our only contacts though all of us had gone to mom's funeral.

I considered calling Ronnie for his take on the situation but decided against it for the present. His marriage had ended badly, and I was afraid that I would be the recipient of some rather stark opinions if I gave him the whole skinny. Ronnie was an ex Pendleton DI. He was not at all sympathetic to weakness, real or apparent. And Dad, He was seventy-one and not all that together since mom died. No, I was on my own at least for the short term. Well, of course, there was Tina. But, she apparently, for motives known only to herself and perhaps a higher power, had an agenda of her own. Jesus I wish I could figure out what that agenda was, not knowing was killing me.

******

The Hard Hat was getting a lot of my business in recent days and today was no exception. It had been five days since discovering that Jessica was not my blood. Dana and I were co-existing, even sleeping in the same bed. She didn't come on to me though; she knew that that would have been a bad move. And, no, I couldn't tell you why I was still sleeping with her. I guess if I had to give a reason it was because it just didn't matter and I was used to it. Plus, it kept me close to my daughter. Until I knew what I was going to do, I wasn't going to be risking any charge of abandoning her. Besides, I was a creature of habit if there ever was one.

I looked up at the Budweiser Inc. supplied clock on the wall behind the bar, 10:00PM. Tina slid onto the stool beside mine. I looked over at her. Jesus she was beautiful, but tonight was not a good night for me.

"Hi, big guy," she said. "You haven't called for the last few days. I figured I better check on your wellbeing just in case," she said.

"Hi Tina. No, I got the bad news a few days ago. I've not been very good company since," I said.

"She's not yours, huh?" she said. I gave her hard look.

"Sorry. I mean of course she's yours. I was only referring to the sperm donor thingy, nothing more," she said. I nodded slowly.

"No, she's not," I said. "And, I just found out that the donor doesn't know he's the father, even now."

"I see," she said. "Whaddya thinkin' about doin'?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't. If I keep the asshole in the dark and at some point way down the line he finds out…"

"Yes, I see where you're going. He might figure to impose himself on you and Jessica," she said.

"Yes. That's about the size of it," I said.

"Do you know who it is?" said Tina.

"No. And, I'm almost afraid to find out. I mean what if it's someone I have to see all of the time? What if he's a close friend or even a family member?"

"I see what you mean. Yes, something like that could be very awkward," said Tina.

"I don't want to be the one adding to the fire here, Gordon. But, Your used to be best friend looks a lot like you. Do you…?"

"No, it's not Hiram. He was stationed overseas for a year, and the timing makes him a non-suspect. No, it's somebody else who was around at the time. But, that's thirteen to fourteen years ago, now; it could be anybody," I said. She nodded.

"Okay. You want some advice?" she said.

"Don't know. Maybe. Yes," I said.

"Don't over react to the situation. Your only concern, and this is my considered opinion, should be for what's best for Jessica. And, whatever that is, it may or may not be very satisfying for you. Her interest-only hers-matters in something like this," said Tina. I gave her a look.

"You know, You're right," I said. "But, does that mean I should tell her? Risk losing her to another dad?"

"You won't lose her. But, to answer your question, yes, you need to tell her. If she were to find out later, and discover that you have hidden this from her, it would not be good.

"Right now, since you just found out, you have the chance to be the good guy. Your wife on the other hand, has hidden this from her for her whole life; she is definitely wearing the black hat.

"Do not wait. I would do it tomorrow. Take her to breakfast or lunch or something, and lay out the situation, all of it," said Tina. "And above all don't pressure her. She's going to have a lot to deal with, and none of it's little stuff."

I stared long at her. "Tina, you are one heckuva smart person. Everything you said makes sense. I'll do it. I won't like it, but I'll do it," I said. "But, what if…?"

"She won't. She'll be curious. She'll eventually want to meet him, but for sure it won't matter," said Tina.

"Why wouldn't it matter?" I said.

"Because, young man, if she loves you now she'll love you even more for being honest and trusting her. If she doesn't love you, you'll eventually lose her anyway, sperm donor father or no," she said. I was nodding slowly and thoughtfully at her words.

I didn't know what Tina's motives in chasing after me were, but I was on the point of not giving a damn. This woman was too valuable to pass up if the opportunity presented itself to make her mine."

******

I was nervous, Jessica was curious, and the food hadn't come yet. The choice, hers, had been IHOP; well, I liked it too.

"Okay, dad, what gives? This has been the strangest week in my entire life. I know you and mom are at it. I'm just not sure what the 'it' is," she said.

I unnecessarily wiped my mouth with the napkin and put it down in front of me. I set my hands on the table as though to keep it from rattling. I took a deep breath, sighed and waited a moment collecting my wits if not my thoughts.

"Yes, it's been a heckuva two week period for me, and I know you've been wondering what was going on. Well, today you get to be in the know. I'm not sure I'm doing right to tell you, but I'm afraid, that if I don't, it would be worse down the line. So-here goes.

"Your mother has a lover. She's told me she does not want a divorce, but that I will have to deal with that little reality if I want to stay married to her. Likewise, she says she loves me more, but, not enough to give up her playmate," I said.

"What the hell!" said my thirteen year-old daughter.

"Hold on, there's more-a lot more," I said.

"Huh?"

"Jess, your daddy, me, loves you more than his own life. And, I would give mine for you no matter what if the situation called for it," I said. "Do you understand what I'm saying, baby?"

"Sure, dad, I know. I've always known," I said.

"Good. Jessica, like I said you're my daughter-but-not my biological daughter," I said. I stopped talking and leaned back in my seat. I know I must have had a hangdog look on my face as I waited for her to react.

"Huh? Dad, what are you talking about!" said Jessica, a little too loudly.

"Your mother had someone else when we were first married. He impregnated her, and then there was you," I said.

"Huh? Someone else? Who, daddy! Who?" she said.

"I don't know. Your mom has so far refused to tell me. I don't know why, though as for that, I suppose there might be a hundred reasons," I said.

"Dad, there must be some mistake. You're wrong. We'll go to mom together and find out the truth, okay?" she said.

"We could go to her, but I'm not wrong, You're not the same blood type as me. I checked it out a couple of days ago," I said. "There's no mistake." She started to cry.

"No need to cry baby. We'll be fine. I hated telling you all of this, but I figured it might be worse if you found out some other way." She nodded.

"We will be speaking to my crazy momma," she said. My turn to nod.

******

"You just had to tell her didn't you!" said Dana.

"Actually yes. I didn't want to be keeping secrets of that magnitude from my own baby," I said. "I didn't want to be in the position, down the line, years down the line-you know like you-to have to be explaining why I'd kept her in the dark."

"Well, it was cruel of you not to have talked to me first," she said. Now, I lost it.

"Listen to yourself, Dana. It's all about you. You never talked to me first about fucking other men. You never told me that you were fucking around on me before we were married; you know with the guy who impregnated you." Suddenly there was a look in her eyes that screamed-something.

"Dana? Do you have something to tell me? Are there more secrets out there that I should know about? I mean you outted yourself about my best friend. What could be worse than that!" I said. I really couldn't imagine anything worse than that; I was about to be educated to the error of my thinking.

"Gordon, you keep digging for things that are not real pretty. Things that could cause us endless heartache, and that to no purpose. Please, let what is be whatever it is and let's get on with our lives," she said.

"Oh, you mean get on with the lives you've laid out for us. You get to fuck other men and I get to like it. That about it?" I said.

"How many times do I have to tell you that what I do with Hiram…"

"You mean Hiram and the man that fucked you and impregnated you those many years ago. That about right? They the only ones? Bet they weren't," I said.

"All right, you asked for it. It was your brother Ronald Fowler," she said. I know I paled. I felt sick. Then, I realized that she had to be lying. She'd never met Ronnie until the day of the wedding, and she and I had headed out on our honeymoon the following morning.

"Not, possible, Dana. You were never out of my sight the day of the wedding, and that was the only day that you ever saw Ronnie," I said, with confidence. She looked down.

"You were three sheets to the wind, Gordie, and fell asleep after we did it the one time that night. I slipped out and he did me down the hall, in his room, at the hotel. He had an eight-inch cock; I knew that as soon as he and I had danced together earlier that evening; and well, I had to have it. Kind of a final fling before we settled into our married lives, you and me," she said. I know my expression now was one of shock; it was the only appropriate term.

"Him-you-on our goddamn fucking wedding day! You never intended to be a wife, a faithful wife, from day one did you cunt! I-I-I can't… " I had to get out of there. This woman was more than I could deal with. I mean way more than I could deal with!

She was telling the truth; I was certain of that. She'd also put the kiss of death to our marriage and to half my living family. I would be dealing with good old Ronald in due time. He was bigger than me, but I was the fighter in the family, and I was good, real good. The fact that he didn't know that he'd fathered my daughter or that I knew about it had worked for me. I was pretty sure that my wife wouldn't be telling him. No, I had the element of surprise on my side.

******

I called Tina. I needed another brain to help me figure out what the fuck to do. Jesus-H-Q-Ree-eyest did I ever. I was sitting in the back. I didn't want to talk to anyone but her, not even my bud the barkeep.

"Okay," she said, sliding in across from me. "Give. You sounded absolutely panicky on the phone."

"Wouldn't be far off the mark," I said. "I am so hurt, insulted, confused, whatever that I may never get over it. My own brother, my adopted brother, is the father of my child."

"Oh," said Tina. "Okay. Now we turn the page to see what happens next. And, so long as it doesn't involve you going to jail for, how shall I say it, unseemly or violent behavior, I'm with you."

"Thank you. I mean it. I need you right now. Apart from my thirteen year-old daughter you're the only one I can trust," I said. "Helluva thing.

"I don't know what to do. Every time I turn around something worse happens."

******

I was parked out front of his house and it wasn't even a holiday. I also found myself almost sick to my stomach thinking about what was about to transpire. Exiting the car I went up to the front door and rang the bell.

My adopted brother was six-foot but not a shade under two-fifty: we were both pretty stocky, but he was bigger stocky. The door opened and a big smile creased his face. I had a roll of nickels in the palm of my right hand and just as his first words of greeting were about to leave his lips; my fist collided with his jaw. I followed that up with several left-right combinations, staggering him, before he was able to set himself and come at me. After that he pretty much destroyed me. Well, he had seventy-five pounds on me.

Several facial fractures, two broken ribs, an eye that I could be in danger of losing and a whole lot less blood than I'd arrived with. The good news was that the ambulance driver was pretty. Oh, and my wonderful brother had a broken nose and a black eye.

I awoke to the beeping of one of several technical marvels that lined the perimeter of the room. It was dark, and I was very thirsty. I tried to rise and go to the water faucet across from me, but the attempt caused me to lose every scintilla of air in my chest cavity. A too young staff nurse rushed in just as I was about to faint from the lack of oxygen and searing shock waves that were pulsating through me. I was hurt. Hurt bad.

"Water," I finally managed to say.

"Lay back, mister, I'll see what I can do about getting you some water. Please lie back." I did as she commanded; I was happy to.

The morning brought some relief from the previous night's agony; and, a visitor: my adopted brother: Ronald Fowler.

"How yuh doin' asshole," he said, as he approached my bed,"

"You're not in jail?" I said "Get the fuck outta here. I never want to see your sorry ass again. Got it."

"What the fuck has gotten into you," he said. "And, no, I'm not in jail, and I am a couple of bucks richer having collected a roll of nickels off of your sorry ass.

"It's not what's gotten into me, mother fucker. It's who got into my wife on our wedding day. Now, get the fuck out. I need my rest. Doctor said so." He paled.

"Oh…"

"Yeah, oh," I said.

"Gordie, that was years ago. It was craziness on my part and hers. We just counted it as a last sin, a meaningless fling, before we became family. You know," he said.

"Yeah, well, I am told that you don't know. But you and I are family in more ways than one. Jessica is your biological daughter. In case you really didn't know," I said. "But, no matter that. She's my real daughter not yours. Got it?" I said.

"Wha…"

"Kinda leave you speechless does it, me telling you the news. Well, you can imagine how I felt," I said.

"Gordie, I swear I didn't know. Not a clue. But, Jesus, at least now I know why you came at me like you did. You had to do it. I would've too. Sorry I messed you up. Really." He said. "I was young; she was young; and that equated with our being stupid. I swear to you it never happened again, and it never will. I apologize for all of it."

"Oh, okay then, we'll just call it even, but there is one condition that will be iron clad," I said, sneering Is sure. "You never come near my baby. Not ever. Got it?" He nodded, but didn't say anything.

We talked a few more minutes about dad. Ron, let me know he was not doing too good. Without mom he had little to live for, or so he thought, I guess. I had an idea about that, but before any of that could be looked at; I had my own problem to take care of: namely my whoring wife.

******

I called Jessica, but not Dana, on her cell phone, and informed her that I wouldn't be home until late.

Frederick Carstairs was old, and quiet, and purportedly one of the best divorce attorneys in the state. Well, as I sat across from him, listening, I did feel confident that my soon to be ex would not be able to screw me over.

There was one tricky bit, however, and that revolved around the custody issue. Jessica was not quite fourteen: too young to choose who'd she like to stay with. The judge would likely listen to her wishes, but in the end it might not matter what either she or I wanted. I was mortally afraid of that situation.

"It all depends, mister Fowler. Your wife's actions are reprehensible, but as a matter of law her adultery is minor when compared to your child's needs. The sperm donor is out of the mix having been a non-factor for Jessica's entire life. The only possible problem might arise if he hollers foul because your wife has kept him the dark all of these years. Nevertheless, I don't see that as very likely.

"But, again, getting back to the main issue, If your wife could be shown to be putting your Jessica at risk that would be one thing, but failing that it's a good bet that she'd get primary. You'll get generous visitation for sure, and I can make sure your wife won't be able to throw up any roadblocks in that direction, but that's about the best we can hope for," he said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said, "do your damnedest. I do not want the woman to be able to get in my way of seeing my daughter."

"Consider it done. And, like I said; she'll be served day after tomorrow," he said.

"Good."

******

Now to go home and wait it out. I would be sleeping in the guest room. She'd be trying to talk me out of it, but I wouldn't be speaking to her on any significant level for the next two days. Then, I would be the hell outa there. She could move in with good 'ole Hiram or have him move in with her. The two of them would be dealing with a very upset Jessica if I was any judge. Oh yeah, divorce was the only way to go now that everything was out in the open. Oh yeah!

Though it was late, Jessica was up and not happy with me when I got home. I pulled her aside to give her a heads up about the divorce. Though not happy with things, she did agreed not to tip her mother to the impending delivery of the divorce papers.

"Dad, I sure wish there was some other way to do this. I don't want to stay with her. I certainly do not want to be her if that other man moves in. You say it's uncle Hiram?" said Jessica.

"Yes. But it'll be okay. I'm there for you if they do anything untoward, especially him," I said. She gave me an exasperated look, but didn't ask; my tone did not allow for it.

******

"You are not sleeping in the guest room, Gordie. You are my husband. You have a duty to perform. I know you're mad at me, and not without cause. I've treated you badly these past days, not intentionally, but badly nonetheless; but I intend to fix that little matter once and for all. I've ended it with Hiram," she said. Okay, she stopped me with that one.

"Oh, and how did the treacherous asshole take that," I said. "I mean you dumping him."

"Stop calling him names. Okay. And well, not real good, but he had no choice," she said. Did I believe her? No. But, whatever, her protestations were interesting. I wanted to test her, and out of the blue, it came to me just how I might be able to do it.

"And, I'm supposed to believe you?" I said. I snickered.

"Yes, it's the truth," she said.

"Hmm, maybe. You wanna try and prove it to me?" I said.

"Well sure, I guess, but I…"

"Okay, then. What I want you to do is to call him up now. You are to act as though you have pulled the wool over my eyes and that I have fallen for your little charade. If you are telling the truth, he won't know what you're talking about. If you're lying to me, he'll be relieved and you can make your next date or whatever," I said.

"But, I am telling the truth!" she said. Her looks made think that she was, but my little game could prove the pudding.

"Then, my little game won't hurt a thing. Once I'm sure of the situation, I will take the phone and put an end to him being around forever, and you and I can get on with our lives. If not… " I said. She nodded; that kinda surprised me.

"Yes, it's me… Yes, I said we couldn't do it anymore, but… no I am not changing the rules… no I haven't told him-asked him-yet… no it's not a good time…"

They talked for some short time and then she said good bye. I hadn't taken the phone as I said I would to put the boff on him. Why? I didn't know. And, I'm sure he was as bewildered as I was.

"What haven't you told me yet?" I said.

"It's not a good time. I've done what you wanted, and you can see that. Can you at least cut me that little slack?" she said.

"No, too many bad things have happened over these past weeks; I wanna know what you and he got going. If it's a ploy to get me to join the two of you… " I started.

"No, no, he and I both know you wouldn't be okay with that in any possible world. It's just…"

"What?" I said.

"Since I dumped him he's asked me to ask you-well-to ask you to let bygones be bygones. He'd really like it if he could be your friend again and maybe come around once in a while. I said I'd ask you," she said.

I actually believed her. To her credit she wasn't pushing it. But, she was asking the unaskable.

"When it snows where the devil lives. I hate the traitorous mother fucker. Never doubt it. Tell him to keep his distance because if he comes around me… " I let what else I was going to say hanging in the air. She could just use her imagination.

"Oh, and I am sleeping in the guestroom. It's going to be a while before I feel comfortable again sleeping with you," I said. That I was misleading her didn't bother me an iota. She'd done me dirty and now it was going to bite her in the ass. Still, it amused me that she had apparently dumped the asshole. But, did I actually believe that that would last. No. A cheater was pretty well guaranteed to always be a cheater. And, I was of the opinion that her capacity to stick to anything that denied her what she wanted was not great.

That night and the next night she cooked some of my favorite dishes. I ate. Well, she wasn't a bad cook. Did I feel like a backstabbing shit, knowing as I did that she was about to be served? Truthfully, yes. But, I just didn't trust her anymore and that put the boff on any chance for us. If she really had broken it off with dipshit, she'd waited too long.

******

"You figured it," said Dana. He did demand that I prove it, that we were splitsville." She sat across from him as the Denny's lunch brigade paraded in.

"Yeah, well it figured. What did surprise me is how fast and how he wanted it to be proved to him," said Hiram. "Where is he now?"

"He's home. He's doing paperwork related to his job," said Dana.

It's a good thing I picked up on what you were trying to tell me when you made the call. I almost didn't."

"Well, you did, and while he was still-what-doubtful; he did seem to buy it. But, we gotta be careful. He has friends out there who I know not of," she said.

"You know, Dana, I've said it before… " he started.

"No, Hiram. I love him, even if the little shit doesn't believe me. I need you to believe me too. I ain't leaving him, not willingly," said Dana.

"Well, okay, but let's finish up here. I have reservations at the Palatino for 1:00PM." She smiled.

"Okay, let's go," she said.

******

The Palatino was at best a three star hotel and lounge, but the rooms were cloistered in gardens that offered privacy as an inducement to those seeking such. The afternoon guests in room 113 were among those choosing the Palatino for that reason.

She peeled off all of her clothes but her panties and watched as he stripped himself naked.

She snorted at her leaving her panties on. "And your underpants?" he said.

"How about a little mystery for the next little bit?" she said. "I'll let you suck the crotch if you're good," she said.

"Hmm, gonna be hard to get today, that it?' he said. She just smiled and giggled.

"Maybe," she said, finally.

He came to her and pushed her down on the bed. She squeezed her thighs together teasing him. She fought him strenuously giving up inch by inch as he pressed his assault. She laughed uproariously at his increasing desperation. Finally, she surrendered, and he ripped her panties off of her as he drove himself into her ruthlessly as punishment for her mock recalcitrance.

"Ugh! Go easy," she said.

"No, you're going to get one very hard core screwing after that little act," he said. And, now he was the one laughing.

As he pounded into her he massaged her breasts, squeezing her nipples as part of her punishment. She winced but did not cry out.

It took some minutes, but her eyes became glazed over as a typhoon of sensation overwhelmed her. She squirted. The heat of his cum filled her almost simultaneously making the experience one of her-their-better ones.

He collapsed on top of her. Their breathing was labored but exultant.

"God that was good," she said.

"No argument for me," said Hiram. They rested for some little time. She played with his once again hardening dick before he unceremoniously flipped her over and took her from behind. She groaned and growled as he drilled her yet again. There was no game playing now; she wanted him to screw her, and he was more than accommodating.

The afterglow was pleasant. She lay with her eyes closed.

"Thinking about him?" he said.

"Yes, I'm going to have to make very nice to him tonight. He's gonna think he died and went to heaven," she said.

"Yeah, if he let's you," he said.

"Yes, there is that. I hope he does. I feel guilty being so satisfied and knowing he's horny but too proud to be the willing cuckold he needs to be. If he'd only give in and accept things; well, the rewards for him would be first water," she said.

"Yeah, well, I think you may well be tilting at windmills," he said. The guy just isn't in the giving in type. Too stubborn and too puritanical."

"You're probably right, and mores the pity. I do so love the guy," she said.

******

Finally it was serve-the-papers day: day two of operation freedom from Dana. I was on the road at work. I'd turned off my cell. I'd already moved my stuff out while she was at work. I didn't need much, so I'd just packed it up after she left for work. I'd just fiddled around doing paperwork prepping for the day's deliveries; which I sometimes had to do, until she left, it raised no red flags me getting gone late.

Of course I knew I'd have to talk to her at some point. But then, that was not going to be a big deal regardless. And, then I got a text message to call Tina. I did.

"Gordon, you said she'd broken it off with that Hiram guy, right?" said Tina, without preamble.

"Yes, that's what she said," I said.

"Not so. She just got a room with the guy, I assume it was him, at the Palatino. I was there picking up Mark. He had a meeting with some guy about a job in Nevada," she said. Mark was her boss at the Hard Hat. "I'm sorry, Gordie,"

"Don't be. It will delay things a few hours, but no biggee?" I said.

"Delay things?" she said.

"Yes, she's being served with divorce papers today," I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Look, I'm working, but you and I need to talk tonight. Okay?" I said.

"Sure bet sailor," she said. "Fuckin' A!"

"Hard Hat at 8:00PM. Okay?" I said.

"Done," she said. We said our goodbyes. Well, now I had a decision to make. Talk to her now on the phone, or go home and battle it out there.

******

It was 5:20PM. She was waiting for me with anger the order of the day. In my case? Resignation.

"Gordon Fowler! What the hell is this?" I said. "And where is Jessica?"

"Jessica's at her friend's house for the night," I said. I'd made the case to Jessica that she should overnight it at her friend's house. She'd agreed. Now, I was glad I had.

"But to answer you first question, it's the end of us," I said.

"Why for God's sake. I dumped your rival. He and I will never speak again unless…"

"Yeah, unless I get okay with letting bygones be bygones. Right?" I said.

"Yes, exactly. You're in the driver's seat," she said.

"So you haven't spoken to him since the phone call the other night?" I said.

"Exactly," she said. I snickered.

"So you just looked at each other without saying word one today at the Palatino," I said. "Looked at him, and his eight inch dick and fucked him, but didn't talk to him. I got that right?"

"Wha-How…"

"Never mind, Dana. You're a liar and a cheat. The good news for you is that you won't have to sneak around anymore. The good news for me is that I won't have to put up with your lying and cheating anymore. I figure you'll still be lyin' and cheatin'; it's who you are. Seems like win-win to me," I said. I wasn't being nice.

She'd sagged back in her seat. "So we're done," she said. It wasn't a question. "You know, looking at it now, I guess it was inevitable. I was going to give it the old college try. You know, treating you right, while cutting back on the other thing. I had it all planned out.

"Marriage is not about planning to deceive your spouse, Dana. It's about support, love, trust, commitment. You fail on all of the above," I said.

"No," she said. "not on support and not on love. You've always had my support, and for damn sure you've always had my love."

"Even if what you say is true, Dana, the trust part is not negotiable, not even," I said. "Now, all that remains of these ruins is how we proceed. You fight me; I'll be right back atcha. You make it easy, and we can remain friends of a sort down the line. I might even be willing to compromise on my previously undying hatred of your lover. I'll have to think about it, but I will at do that." She looked up.

"Really? I mean no more-hate," she said."

"I'd be amenable if you intend to be cooperative," I was thinking of Jessica and the soon to be new love of my life. Neither of them needed my baggage, so dumping it might work for me. Dana nodded.

"I think we can do that much for each other," she said. "I'm sorry, Gordie, I really didn't mean to be a cheater. I just couldn't help myself when it came to Hiram's dick'; it really is something special."

"Never mind. I'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight. I'll be in touch in a few days. Okay?"

"Okay. Be well, my husband."

******

I felt bad about things, the way they'd finally played out. We'd been married a long time. Jessica would always be between us, even though she wasn't my so-called bio kid. She was my kid and none other.

Tina was already seated against the far wall across from the new makeshift bandstand. Mark was going to try to introduce some country western dance music to drive up business. It turned out that the guy from Vegas was not offering him a job; it was a business opportunity. They were seated together right in front of the bandstand.

Nevertheless, whatever else chanced this night, I was going to get things straight with Tina. I was on a mission.

"Hi stud," she said, as I approached.

"Hi pretty woman," I said. And she was pretty. She was extra pretty. I was immediately suspicious. She was made up to enslave me, and I was vulnerable. But, I was also on a mission, and I was not going to let it slide.

"So?" she said.

"She was served. We had the final sit down. I think things will work out okay. I'm hopeful at any rate," I said.

"Good, I'm glad for you," said Tina. There was a silent period as soon as she said it. She knew that this was it.

I got out of my seat and went round the table to her. I got down on my knees. Tina, will you be my wife?" I said.

"A little premature isn't it?" she said, laughing. I frowned. "As soon as your divorce is final, of course," she said. "And yes." Now, I smiled; but, conversely, she didn't.

"Gordie, I have some things to confess to you," she said. "Well-and then-if you still want me I'm yours absolutely. Okay?"

I was still on my knees. "Sure."

"You once asked me why a girl like me would want to be saddled with a guy like you. You said it jokingly, and I answered you the same way. Truth is, you put the question backwards from the way it should have been put," she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"You should have asked why a man like you should waste his time chasing a woman like me. You are way out of my league, Gordon Fowler. You just don't realize it.

"Okay, I'm pretty. On a good day a dozen men would be fighting to get into my pants. It's always been that way for me, ever since junior high school. I knew I could have any of them any time I wanted, and I exploited it. And then I wasn't a kid anymore, and I still had my junior high school mentality. So I did stupid things, and they eventually came back to bite me in the ass.

"Tina, all of that is ancient history. I don't need to hear any true confessions here. I just need a woman to love me and be true to me. If you tell me you can do those, everything else will be nothing, and I mean nothing whatsoever." She smiled at me.

"If when we leave here, you feel the same way; why then, you are going to get exactly those and more," she said.

"Okay," I said.

"Gordie, I have two children," she said. I knew she thought that she was going to shock me, but I was ready for anything-or so I imagined.

"Okay," I said. She'd set me back a notch, not because she had kids, but because she'd kept them a secret for so long.

"In school, I was popular, and I hung with the jocks most of the time," she said.

"Okay, so?" I said.

"My kids are black, Gordie," I smiled. I was sure that that was it. And, I could deal with that.

"That it?" I said. She looked down.

"They're from different fathers," she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said.

"The second one, also a jock, dealt crack on the side. I didn't know it, but I was with him when they busted him. I spent a year in the slam: aiding and abetting, they said. Gordie-I did what they said I did. I tried to help Demetrius get away. Anyway, I'm a convict too.

"I see. Is that all?" I said. She snickered. "Isn't that enough?

I smiled. "Tina… " I started.

"Gordie, I want to make this easy on us, and especially for you. Before you say anything, I am going to go to the bathroom. I'm going to be in there for a little while, maybe fifteen minutes or so. If you're still here when I get back; well, we'll have a whole lot to talk about and to do. Okay?" I shrugged.

She was gone for seventeen minutes, and I had every intention of being right where I was when she went to pee, and I was.

I had to smile to myself. Here I had had a beautiful cheater who claimed in eleventeen languages that she loved everything about me but my less than imposing cock, and even that-she averred-would do in a pinch; well, okay, I may be stretching the facts a little there, but it's the way I rationalized things.

Now I had the chance to have an even more beautiful woman who claimed that I was way out of her league, not she out of mine. But, who had baggage little short of staggering. Still, that said, I trusted her. The mere fact that she outted herself like she did was reason to trust her. Now, the biggee, and the only thing that really mattered to me: could she and would she be faithful to me. If so, I had me a life's partner.

She saw me sipping my martini when she emerged from the access hall to the restrooms. Her look was precious and very relieved. The interesting thing was that I was more relieved than she was.

"You're still here," she said as she stood behind her chair looking for me to say something.

"Oh yeah, I'm here, and that for the rest of our lives." I pulled the object from my coat pocket and pushed it across the table to her as she took her seat. I gotten it while I was on the road the day before.

She looked at it, then me, then it. She opened it. "My God!" she said.

"Two carats," I said. "$4,000."

"Put it on me," she said. I reached across and did as she commanded me. I would be following her commands for the rest of my life; I knew that for a flat fact. This was the woman for me. For my money she was living proof that there was a God. No doubt about it.

******

It was but two days later that I met my new step-children: Lily age three, and Tamara age six. Their daddies. Jackson was living on the opposite coast and had not communicated with Tina since he'd gotten her pregers. Demetrius was a whole different ball game. He was serving ten to fifteen for entrepreneurship of an illegal variety. Talking longer to Tina about him brought home the fact that at some point he might be problem, but hopefully by then we'd be long gone and him totally out of the loop.

******

The divorce went off without a hitch. She got the house and nominal custody of Jessica. But, I wasn't concerned about her trying to come between Jess and me. Fact was, she was more concerned that I would somehow turn Jessica against her lover, my ex best friend. I had had to promise that I wouldn't do that, and I did promise, and things are going relatively smoothly as of the moment.

My new wife and arm candy is treating me like I'd saved her life and the lives of all of her friends and relatives. You gotta love it. And, what's even better, at least from my perspective is that I satisfy her. And, yes, I mean in bed.

We are planning on a cruise, Tina and I, in the spring, a month hence, the Caribbean was the destination. Things were definitely looking up. But then you had to know it; there was a complication, oh yeah and a big one.

******

It was three days before the cruise. I got a call from Dana.

"Gordie, could you come over. We got a little-something-it's kind of important," she said.

"What is it, Dana, you know were leaving town in a few days, and we've got a lot to do," I said.

"Yes, I know, but this is really really important," she said.

"Okay, we'll be over in about an hour. Okay?" I said.

"That'll be fine," she said.

"Honey," I said, addressing Tina, "my erstwhile ex says she's got something important going and needs us there now."

"Now? You mean right now?" she said.

"Yes, and she was sounding strange. I guess we better go over," I said.

Parking in front of what used to me my house felt strange. I hadn't been back to the old neighborhood since the divorce, and hadn't planned on coming back any time soon either.

But here I was, with a new, younger, and prettier wife, and a more or less irritated mental state.

We went up and knocked. Hiram answered the door.

I had promised to modify my attitude toward him since Dana had been reasonable about Jessica and me. This was my first opportunity to show my good faith. I didn't quite snarl my greeting. Well, not to him.

"Ronald! What the fuck are you doing here," I said. Once inside I'd spotted him seated on the couch.

"I figure you might be able to guess the answer to your question," he said.

"Does Jessica know. Is she in on this?" I said, addressing my comments to Dana.

"No, not yet, but Ronald wants to be introduced to her, you know formally. He's only been around her twice and those were years ago. I didn't know what to do, knowing your position on the matter, so I called you," she said. I nodded.

"The answer is no." Now I was addressing the culprit. You don't know her, and you don't need to know her. So go on back up state, and make your own babies. Jessica is mine," I said.

"Look, Gordon, Years ago I was a shit. I betrayed your trust. I get it. And, I'm not trying to take your place. My God I'm not," he said.

"But, I feel something for her. I mean ever since you told me. I just want her to know that there is one more person out there in the sentient universe that cares whether she lives or dies," said Ronald Fowler.

I was seething. But just then, the unthinkable happened. Jessica burst into the room, and she was not happy. She'd had to have been listening.

"Dad, I want to talk to him. Okay?" she said. I know my face fell.

"But…"

"I have to dad. I need to talk to him." Tina came up behind me and steered me away. I pulled away from her and headed outside, out the front door. I took a seat on the porch swing and just stared out at the street.

My own daughter had opted to do that which I did not agree to. She opted to be in the same room with the two least trustworthy people in the world: Dana and Ronald Fowler. I knew not what might come of it, but if he was going to try and impose himself between me and my daughter, ask to share her in any way whatsoever; well, I would be leaving it up to Jess to choose, but I would not be sharing her with anyone, especially a cheater like Ronald Fowler. If he was in, I was out.

"You okay, honey," said Tina, who now joined me on the porch.

"No, not really. Not at all. I will not accept sharing her with that man. His treachery of 14 years ago has no statute of limitations. Him and that woman have done more to destroy my sanity than should ever have been allowed. I do not deserve to have to compromise with them, and I will not," I said. Tina nodded.

"I understand. Let's just hope that things work out for the best. Okay?" she said.

"Thanks babe. Thanks for being there for me," I said.

"You betcha," she said.

We both turned when we heard the door open to our left. It was the woman.

"Gordon, can I speak with you for a minute," said Dana. I nodded.

"I ain't compromising, Dana. She's mine and I don't share, any more than I was willing to share you," I said. She hd the decency to look down.

"I know. And, Jessica just got telling him pretty much the same thing. He asked her if she'd like to come over some time, maybe during the holidays. She told him sure, so long as her dad was there too. Then, well then she told me that she wanted to live with you.

"Gordon, okay, you get what you most wanted all along. She's packing now. Hope that big SUV of yours can hold all of her stuff. She's moving in with you tonight," said Dana.

"I'll go help her," said Tina.

"Yes, that'd be good, babe. Do help her, I said. Dana and I watched Tina rush off to help Jessica pack.

"Gordon, fourteen years ago, we messed up: your brother and me. This, Jessica living with you, is little enough, and you're entitled to a few more at bats before we can call everything square," she said.

"I just hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive if not forget. Your brother really should be allowed to see Jess every once in a while, and I think you're a big enough man to see that what I'm saying has merit. Anyway, give it some thought. Okay?" she said.

"Okay. I can do that. But if he wants to see my baby; he's going to be doing it when I'm around like Jess said." My ex-wife nodded.

For some reason, maybe because of the way Jessica had dealt with the man; I was feeling good.

Looking at Dana, I could recall some of the good times and good feelings I had toward her before all of the nonsense. My hatred, and it had been hatred, was dying. Maybe better days were on the way.

-----------------------------

   Series:Zeb and Frances Mercer
   Author:Matt Moreau
   Teaser:Mismatched as any two people could ever be; could they still make?
 Category:Loving Wives
      URL:http://www.storiesonline.net/s/68877/zeb-and-frannie-mercer
Published:2011-08-02
Frances and Zebulon Mercer, that's us. Married thirteen years, about to be divorced. Frannie is now 42, me 43.

We met in high school as seniors when I transferred in to Morningside High. She the prototypical homecoming queen: tall, pretty, popular, rich parents. I the prototypical nerd: short, singularly unlovely, not popular-practically invisible really-and poor. But, I had one redeeming quality: I carried a Stanford Binet intelligence quotient of one-sixty same as my weight if it matters.

Frances Parker's daddy, Roger Parker, owned a half dozen car dealerships in the state, and had done very well for himself in the business. His wife, Caroline, had died giving birth to Frances, and her dad Roger had never remarried. I'd learn later that Roger and Caroline Parker had been true soulmates: it was impossible for him to love another.

My dad got a job as a janitor at the high school, and thereby the reason why I'd transferred there in my senior year. My mom had died too, a few years before, Cancer, and I missed her terribly. But, dad and I managed. I sometimes helped him out after school if my schedule allowed. He was all for me doing well in school: nothing else mattered. I suppose the good news was that I felt the same way and never let him down. My dad was proud of me, and I was inordinately proud of that great truth.

Okay, so you're wondering how a short, ugly guy, with no money, no car, no social standing, nothing really, except that I was well read; could possibly have hooked up with miss all-everything. Simple I was handy and pliable. Boy was I pliable.

During my senior year I had had no dates whatsoever. None! I had, however, been invited to a couple of parties, attended both, and achieved whatever the male equivalent of wallflower status is. Hell, I hadn't even gotten drunk. I was a disgrace. And then it was May: prom time. I wasn't going. My dad pressed me to ask a girl and to go, but I'd demurred; I wasn't into the humiliation thing.

"Oh, there were a few girls in the same boat as me that I could've asked, and I considered it. But, I couldn't dance, alcohol at that age upset my stomach, and talking and socializing were not part of my skill set; some good news though: I got used to alcohol when I got older-a lot more used to it actually. Oh, but did I mention that I was a straight-A student-yippee-eye-o-kai-yay!

As it turned out, May was also finals month. And, as it also turned out, Frances Parker was not a straight-A student. She was in fact a gnat's eyelash from failing both Chemistry, and this was her second go at that one, and Math-II. Guess who she asked to help her through those two horrendous finals. Yeah, well, I wasn't about to turn her down. Just being around her, smelling her, was wonderful. At any rate she did what I told her to do, and she passed, and I got a kiss for my efforts-on the lips-one of the few kisses from a girl that I had ever gotten; I didn't wash my face for a week.

Two weeks before the prom, she was waiting for me.

"Hi, Zeb, got a minute?" she said.

"Frances?"

"Yes, Zeb, Frances, me. Got a minute?" she repeated.

"Yes. For you, of course," I said. She smiled indulgently.

"Zeb, you know my boyfriend, Trey Mitchel, right?" she said.

"I know he's the star quarterback and about all everything else," I said "But, know him? No, we travel in different circles, actually." I got a look from her for my remarks.

"Well, yes, he is kind of the man about campus, I guess," she said. "Anyway, he was going to take me to the prom, but he can't go; has to see his grandma upstate; I think she may be dying or ill or something; Trey wasn't sure. Anyway, I need a date for the prom. You wanna volunteer to help this girl out?"

"Huh?" I said.

"You know take me," she said. I stood there staring at her. I just could not seem to process her words. Helping her with a Chem exam was one thing; I was good at Chemistry, but taking her to a formal dance and the inevitable all night parties afterwards just did not process, not for me.

"Huh?" Now I was repeating myself. She snapped her fingers.

"Look, Zeb, I need a date. I know you don't have one; I asked around. Any of the other guys who might want to take me, and who don't already have dates of their own, are either on Trey's shit list; or they're, quite frankly, afraid of me. You know me. We've worked together on those exams. We're on pretty good terms. Right," she said. "And my dad liked you, trusted you. So whaddya say?"

"Absolutely!" I said, all too enthusiastically. "But, I should tell you one thing."

"What?" she said.

"I'm afraid of you too," I said. She laughed.

"Yeah, right. The school egghead is afraid of little 'ole average me," she said. She was getting a pain in her side she was laughing so hard. I didn't know what was so funny, but I began to laugh too. It was cathartic.

Any parent knows what the term prom means-expenses, big expenses, and those for both the boy and the girl. I knew my dad would fund my date; hell, I didn't have any money, but I was going to feel mighty guilty asking him.

I called Frances two days before the night of the prom just in case, just to confirm; but I only got her dad. He said she was out getting her dress fixed or something like that. So, I left him a message that I would pick her up at seven; he said that he'd deliver the message. We knew each other casually from the times when I had helped Frannie with her exam prep.

******

They were sitting in his dad's Cadillac's back seat. They'd been making out for some little time; The windows were steamed up.

"I am so glad you got back in time," she said. "And, your grandma's okay." said Frances.

"Yeah, she's got diabetes, Like I said, and it was touch and go for a few days, but she will be okay now if she sticks to her doctor's orders and takes her meds. My aunt Helen is staying with her for the foreseeable future. Anyway, she's okay.

"Hey, but I'm glad to be back too. We're going to the prom, right?" he said.

"You betcha stud. I was so disappointed when you thought you couldn't make it. I mean I wasn't upset or anything; your gramma is a first priority; but well, anyway, I'm just glad you're back."

He reached over to her and began unbuttoning her blouse. She smiled him her encouragement. He peeled the fabric from her shoulders. He hefted one breast then the other. "I've missed these," he said.

She giggled. "I missed your touch," she said. She raised her breast toward him. "Suck on this one, okay."

"Your wish is my command," he said. He suckled on the fleshy mound for some moments; then, switched to the other.

She pushed him away. "My turn," she said, as she unzipped his pants. He raised up to allow her easier access so that she could pull his pants down. She did. Reaching inside his underpants, she wrapped her hand around his seven-inch sex engine. She smiled. "I think junior wants me."

"More than you can possibly imagine," he said. Leaning forward, she licked the precum from his cock. She looked up into her boyfriend's eyes. "Warn me when you are about to cum. Okay?" He nodded.

She let the tip of his cock slip between her lips. Sucking on the glans for some moments, she gloried in his discomfort as he fought to endure the tickling sensation that her doing that always caused him. Then she let his cock slide deeper into her mouth and throat as she began sucking him in earnest.

"It was some four or five minutes before he shuddered and mouthed the warning that he was about to cum in her mouth. She let his dick slip from her mouth and began jerking him off furiously. His spray hit her in the face. She plucked a gob of it from her right eye with her index finger and licked it clean.

"God that was wonderful," he said.

"Glad you liked it," she said.

******

I arrived six minutes early. No, that's not right I didn't just arrive; I arrived in style: tux, corsage, and limousine; I'd even had my hair styled if you can believe it. The chauffeur opened the door for me and waited while I went up to get my date. Jesus was I nervous-never before and never since anything like it, not even on my wedding day.

"Hi Mr. Parker," I said, as he opened the door. He gave me a funny look.

"Zeb?" he said.

"Yeah, it's me. I look a lot different tonight don't I?' I said, smiling to beat the band.

"Well, yes, you do; but what, what are you doing here? He said. I frowned.

"To pick up Frannie for the prom. You know, I left you the message Thursday," I said. He actually looked shaken.

"Zeb, Frances went to the prom with Trey. I was sure she told you about her change of plans," he said. He looked beyond me to the ride I'd hired. "My God! That girl didn't tell you did she!"

I was sick to my stomach. I hadn't originally planned to go, but because of the chance to go out with Frances Parker, my dad had laid out $500 plus for my big night. I think all of the blood in my body rushed to my face at that moment.

"Zeb, I'm sorry, boy. If I had known that she hadn't contacted you-I-I'm sorry," he said. "Look, come in, please. You and I need to talk."

"No, no, I think I need to go," I said. "I need to go now!" I turned to leave, but two steel hands gripped my shoulders and all but yanked me into the house.

"Zeb, sit over there. I can see you're-distraught. I know you had to put out a ton for this special night, and don't worry. I will pay you back every cent. And, I can assure you I will be taking it out of the hide of our little princess," he said. I shook my head.

"Mister Parker, I can't take your money. I'll just chalk it up to experience and get on with things," I said.

"Oh no you won't," he said. "And you are going to the prom."

"But?" I said.

"Zeb, I'm a business man, a successful business man. I didn't get that way letting myself walk away from competitors who doublecrossed me. No, I dug in my heels and made them pay. That's what any successful person has to do. Zeb, you are clearly a very smart guy, but naïve as hell. You need to fight for your woman."

"Yeah right," I said. Okay, I was a little bitter. "Mr. Parker, I'm five-four and one-sixty. Frannie is five-nine and one-forty. Trey is six-four and two-thirty. Fannie is gorgeous; Trey is arguably the hunk the girls all think he is; lookswise, I'm a turkey. The list, sir, of comparisons is long, and I lose on them all."

"Intelligence?" he said.

"Well, maybe not on that one. But, who cares about smartsos. Let me answer my own question: nobody!" I said.

"Size, numbers, popularity: You ever study history, Zeb?" he said.

"Well, yeah, I read a lot," I said.

Einstein failed his doctoral exam twice before Niels Bohr convinced him to try one more time. They finally gave it to him, accepted his dissertation, the same one he'd submitted the first two times. Oh, his topic? The Theory of relativity. A couple of other names: Alexander at Gaugamela outnumbered twenty to one; Caesar at Alesia outnumbered ten to one. Oh, and Alexander Pope was four-eleven. All out numbered, all with problems and challenges, all initially labeled as dreamers or worse; and all, found a way to overcome because they were geniuses. You wanna be the one to give geniuses a bad name, Zeb?"

"Mister Parker…"

"Zeb, you are going to the prom-alone. You will cut in on my daughter and the interloper. You will dance the dance with her, and ask her out for next weekend while you're at it. I know my daughter; she's no genius for damn sure, but she has got a deal of common sense. I'll bet you a bottle of Gentleman Jack-deliverable on your wedding day if I'm wrong-that she accepts the date with you, and more, that you'll have fun on it. Okay?" he said.

I was glad I had a driver for the evening. I was sure I wouldn't have been able to navigate the road myself; I was too confused, too upset, nervous. But, her dad's words had rung true. I could either crawl away with my tail between my legs or stand up for myself.

I knew I was no great shakes, brains or not. I was sure the man was right about what I had to do, but equally sure he was wrong about his predicted outcome. But, what the hell, things couldn't be much worse for me than they were.

Having a limo deliver me was a plus. I didn't have to cross the crowded parking lot on my shaky legs. He dropped me virtually at the door.

Inside I got some stares. Well, I wasn't exactly a fixture at formal soirees. I headed for the punch bowl. With any luck somebody would've spiked it. Taking a sip I was disappointed; it was punch.

I spotted my quarries across the room. They weren't quite making out, but they were close enough to each other to do so if the fancy struck them. I waited for them to start dancing. It had to be a slow dance so I could talk to her. I got lucky, the next one was, and they got up to dance. I waited a half minute or so. They were melded into each other. For some reason I was filled with the confidence of the just. Being short, I was hidden from their view pretty well. I was able to come up behind him and gently tap his right shoulder. He turned to see me. The two of them stared at me like I was toxic; it bothered me not at all.

"I believe this is my dance, Trey," I said with more confidence than I should have been feeling.

"What?" he said.

"My dance," I said. I took her hand and started to pull her away and out amongst them. She ripped her hand from mine.

"What are you doing, Zeb. This dance is Trey's," she said kinda nastily.

Her tone stung me, but I recovered. "Really, well, I guess I'll be going then. Oh, and please, next time you ask me to take you somewhere and change your mind, please let me know, okay. I mean if it's not too much trouble," I said.

"What are you talk… oh my God! I completely forgot. Zeb…"

"Forget it, Frances, believe me you're getoverable. But, you won't be getting to ride to the parties tonight in my limo. You'll have to settle for his sport's car. Have a nice life," I said. I turned and walked away.

A number of people watched me as I walked out, and one or two of them snickered at a shrimp like me daring to upset miss perfect. But, a few others gave me a thumbs-up, but none of those were A-listers.

******

"You do not mean that you actually forgot you had a date with the guy for the prom. Tell me you're kidding," said Cora Welcher, the Monday following her social debacle.

"Yes. I forgot, okay? And, I feel like shit about it. I mean he was so good to me when I needed him to help me pass those exams; then, I go and fuck him over like that. I was just so caught up with Trey getting back…"

"Yeah, well, you'll play hell ever doing anything worse than that to a man, to any man-ever!" said, Cora. "He'll be a while getting over it for damn sure."

"Yeah, I know," said Frances.

"Jesus, it must of cost him plenty too. I mean to get ready for the prom. You say he even hired a limo?"

"That's what he said," said Frances.

"I know they're poor. His dad's one of the maintenance guys at the school. I know they can't afford stuff like that," said Cora.

"Well, as for that, I'm gonna pay him back. And, I'm going to do it out of my own money. I've got a ton saved for college. A thousand bucks oughta do it," said Frances.

"Well, at least he won't be in the hole financially then," said Cora. "His pride will still be in the shitter, along with his feelings, but the money should help a little."

"Yeah, well, and I'm thinking of begging him to take me out-my treat-as kind of a makeup thing. Maybe even let him cop a feel or two. Whaddya think?" said Frances.

"A date? Hmm, maybe. But as for letting him take liberties, only if he makes a play for you himself. If you offer it to him too blatantly… well, a guy like him, as smart as him… well, it might hurt him more than not giving him anything at all," said Cora.

"How do you figure?" said Frances, truly not getting it.

"He'll know it'd be mercy sex because he can't get anything on his own. That would kill his very soul. Don't offer it; I'm telling you," said Cora. "Jeez, I can't believe you can't figure out some of this on your own!"

"Okay, so I'm not a smart as you. And yes, I see your point. But, if he makes the move on me, then, let him?" said Frances.

"Sheesh! Yes, but don't give it up, I mean you know what I mean, the big thing. Copping feel, maybe a little heated kissing; but that's it. Any more than that, and a guy like him will be thinking matrimony. You gotta walk a fine line with him, girl," said Cora.

"Okay, and Cora?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks.". Her friend nodded her support.

******

Did I feel down? No. I mean she'd not only stood me up; she'd clearly even forgotten that she'd asked me to go! So I should have felt low, right? But no, I didn't think so. I'd done nothing wrong, and it was clear, the girl just didn't like me. Nothing to do about that but get on with things, her loss the way I saw it; well, it's what I kept telling myself.

The bad news, and it was bad news for me, was the fact that the prom occurred two weeks before school let out, that meant that I'd still be seeing her around along with everyone else who'd witnessed my humiliation.

The Wednesday after the prom, she approached me in the cafeteria. "Zeb, may I speak with you for a moment?" she said. I looked her up and down.

"No." I walked away with my tray and found a table full of social losers like myself. I saw her out of the corner of my eye debating whether to press the issue. I guess she decided not to. She walked away.

Two days later, I got an envelope delivered to me. In it was a check for $1,000. I tore it up in front of the delivery guy who'd wanted me to sign for it. He stared at me like I was crazy.

The day after that I got a call. No, not from Frances. It was from her father. He wanted to talk to me. I liked the guy, but opted not to continue with the situation. I just wanted to be left alone. He said he'd tell his daughter to back off. It turned out it was she who had written the check not daddy. I hadn't noticed that at the time, not that it would have made a bit of difference. I guess she was trying to buy a little forgiveness. Oh, I was sure she really was sorry for humiliating me, shining me on. But, I was also sure that the kind of arrogance that would take it for granted that everybody could be bought and that forgiveness and justice had a price tag, was so far beyond being acceptable to me that I considered it to be a crime in itself.

I guess her daddy got her to layoff. I didn't hear from her again until graduation day. I was valedictorian. My dad was supremely proud. Hell I was proud of me. A friend of mine, Harry Gooden, said somebody had invited me to a grad party and he'd been tasked to deliver the invitation. I opened the invite. It was from her. A party to be held at her parent's house. I threw the invite in the trash can as I was leaving the hall.

My dad had detail that night-read, he had to help clean up after the grad ceremony-so he'd left me some minutes before. I was heading for the bus stop a block away, but I never even got off school property.

As I rounded the north side of the gym, four guys, a couple of whom may have actually been homo sapiens surrounded me. Only one of them weighed less than 300 pounds, Trey Mitchel. "Goin' to the party, big guy?" said Trey.

I knew what he was talking about, but I had no idea why he was talking to me about it. Frannie was his girl. Why would he want me to be goin' to her party?

"No, big guy, I'm not," I said. The four of them were staring at me. "What? You palookas gonna make me," I said.

"Yeah, actually, we are. Frances wants you there. She wants you to want to come, you know, willingly; but if not, well then, unwillingly," he said.

"You are aware that if you force me to go someplace, that I don't want to go, that that is the very definition of kidnaping," I said. He laughed.

"I'll take my chances," he said, laughing. That was the signal for his nine hundred pounds of assistance to assist him in putting me in the black van-Jesus, what a cliché! These guys watched too many movies.

At the party I wasn't tied down, nor was I immediately accosted by her highness. I looked to see if her dad was handy. He wasn't. I was trapped, as one might say, in a gilded cage filled with high school A-listers and assorted invited outsiders. The music was loud and not to my baroque tastes. The food was a cholesterol loaded feast, and I toyed with the idea of maybe giving my heart something to complain about besides my dream girl's lack of attention. At any rate I declined to commit any gastronomic crimes and I just lolled around. The looks I got from a number of different guests were uniformly smirks. Evidently everybody knew I'd been shanghaied and probably the reason for it. I was pissed.

Somebody handed me an open beer bottle. I dropped it on the floor. It broke. I got looks for that, but nobody said anything. Well they didn't until she tapped me on the shoulder.

"Kinda juvenile of you wasn't it," she said, indicating the broken beer bottle and the now spreading mess.

"I don't want to be here, and I don't want anything from you. Nothing. Now, can I leave or are you going to sic your SWAT team on me."

"Zeb, look, I am so sorry for my thoughtless actions. I have had some sleepless nights because of them. I'd just like a chance to talk to you for a few minutes. And, no, if you really don't want to talk to me, you will not be forced to stay. Oh, and I'm sorry for today's theatrics, but I couldn't think of any other way to get you to sit down with me," she said.

"You still can't. Have a nice life," I said, and I started to walk out. I was sure that now she'd leave me alone. She detained me by very gently taking hold of my wrist.

"Zeb, please?"

"Look, Frances Parker, miss all everything. I know you're Trey's girlfriend. I know you don't like me. And I know, or think I know, that you feel a little bit sorry for fucking me over. But I'll live. Okay?" I said.

"Zeb, yes, I'm Trey's girl. But, it is totally untrue that I don't like you. I do like you-as a friend. And, I am more than sorry for what I did to you."

"Goodbye, okay?" I said. She dropped her hold on my wrist, and I walked out not even bothering to look back.

I walked the six miles home, and when I got there, my dad had a fit.

"Son, where have you been? You just graduated, and you disappear? Without so much as a word?" he said.

"Sorry, dad, I was shanghaied by some classmates, and I was just now able to get free," I said. Well, it was the truth. The fact that I knew for a fact that he would not believe me was, to me, irrelevant."

******

As valedictorian and having garnered a host of other academic honors in my high school career, I was awarded a full ride to Stanford, with Stanford Law as my ultimate goal. Yes, Law. I came late to the decision to make the legal profession my profession. By the end of my junior year, I was already accepted as one of the future big guns in that major on campus; well one of the potential big guns anyway; I still had my undergrad Philosophy major to complete. Anyway, that was the good news; and it was good news.

The bad news, as I saw it, was that both Trey and Frances were also going to be going there. Trey on a football scholarship; and Frances, as I found out later, on a prayer scholarship. Prayer scholarship you ask? Well, she was by no means qualified to be in a competitive school like Stanford, but her daddy's one million dollar donation got her in-provisionally. I presumed he'd be getting a hellacious tax write off for his largesse as well. Donation or not, Frances still had to take-and pray-that she pass all of her required classes: she was an Art History major; and again, as I found out later, she was assigned, up front, to mandatory tutoring in some of the harder Gen-Ed classes. Well, life is hard and then we die.

******

I did see the dynamic duo on occasion, but Stanford is actually a small city; it was pretty easy to avoid them. Plus, the Law majors didn't mix much with Art History types, and almost never with the jocks. I never really knew how good Trey was in school; he graduated with me, but I had little or no contact with the man, and no desire to investigate his intellectual skill level. At any rate, he sure as hell wasn't in the Law program.

A request by my junior advisor in my third year of undergrad put me in a situation that I could not have foreseen nor really done much about. I had a full ride, but I also had a few obligations to keep it. One of them was to tutor the intellectually less fortunate inmates. You had to know this was coming, right? But genius or not, I didn't see it coming until I was face to face with her.

"You've got to be kidding," I said. I think my frustration was showing.

"Zeb, I didn't know it was you they assigned me to until just now," she said.

"Like I'm supposed to believe that," I said. "Well, you're here. So, tell me, Frances Parker, what is it about Linguistics that's a mystery to you?" I said.

"Zeb, look, cut the crap, okay. If you can't at least be civil, then I don't want you to tutor me. I'll just tell my advisor that we can't get along and to find me somebody else.

"Yes, I was a shit in high school, but you holding a grudge this long has got to be some kind of record. Get over it, Zeb, it really wasn't that big a deal. So I stood you up. So, shoot me in the ass. Enough already!" I looked at her and deflated.

"Okay, you're right. Forget I said anything. If you need help, I'll do my job, and I guarantee you'll pass. I'll need your availability schedule, so I can set up the times." I scribbled my email on a post it I pulled from my shirt pocket and handed it to her-well hell, I was still a nerd. "Figure it out, your availability, and email it to me. And send me your cell along with it. I'll get back to you as soon as you do."

"Okay. Will do," she said. "And, Zeb, I really am sorry about everything." I nodded and she was gone.

And that was the start of it. At some point along the way; she caught Trey with another coed and their planned happily ever after fizzled.

I tutored her. She ended up with a 2.9GPA, not too shabby, and became a teacher. Two years into her teaching career, I finished Law school with an LL.D. And, six months after that we were married. Talk about unbelievable turns of events. Oh yeah, and we had dated a bunch before that happy day. But, and you had to know it; I was a virgin on our wedding night. Just didn't want to leave anything out.

******

Yeah, we made up during the tutorial thing, and being the gold plated, pussywhipped, wishful thinker that I was, I let her talk me into falling in love with her. Oh, and she assured me that she loved me to death, and that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. Beyond belief? Hell yes, but I had no problem with consciously deluding myself; I wanted her.

The wedding was a huge affair. Her dad had spared no expense. My dad beamed. Her relatives, I'm sure, looked at me as some kind of reclamation project-a charity case. And my friends were jealous as hell.

And so did my married life, my life with Frances Mercer nee Parker, begin.

******

"Well, we're finally, here," she said. "I almost can't believe it."

I looked her way as I started to undress; I stopped. The reception had been big and loud and happy, and for me, a little strange. I thought about that now. "Frances?" I said.

"Yes, honey?" said my new wife. She'd also been undressing.

"I guess I'm about the luckiest guy on the planet," I said. She gave off a small laugh.

"Damn straight," she said. She saw my serious look. "I feel pretty lucky myself, Zeb: pretty damn lucky!"

I hurried up my undressing, but, she beat me. I went to her, grabbed her around her waist and pulled her to me as I went to my knees in front of her. I kissed her belly her fur, her thighs. I worked my way down her legs, finally kissing her feet. "I adore you," I said, as I straightened up. She smiled condescendingly at her new husband.

She knelt down with me. I took her right there on the floor, not expertly, but very enthusiastically. The bed was three feet away, and I took her on the stupid floor. It was-I don't know-some kind of statement, but damned if I knew what of.

Rising from the floor after a brief period of huffing and puffing, we did get on the bed and she went to work on my penis. She turned out to be a regular virtuoso at cocksucking. She had me up again in short order. I took her from behind. There is just something seriously erotic about a woman pushing her hind quarters high in the air to accommodate her conqueror. I pushed into her and she groaned. My wife, unlike me, was no virgin; I knew it, and she knew I knew it, but we never made a big deal out of it. She was mine now, all mine, and that was enough for me.

We lay side by side a while later, again huffing and puffing.

"Honey?" I said.

"Yes?"

"Why me. I'm not good looking, not tall. Why me?' I said.

"Zeb, you're not going to believe me, but this one time, I'm going to lay it out for you. I'm not very smart, not like you for sure, but I'm not a fool. I know what's in a person's heart; I can sense it.

"Zeb, you actually love me. I know you'd give up everything you have to please me, or, to save me. The reality is very few men are like that. There were a hundred guys who would have crawled from here to China to get into my pants, but once the new car smell was gone; they'd be looking for some strange real fast. I didn't want that for me," She said. I had thoughts of Trey cheating on her for the exact reasons she'd just laid out for me.

"Yes, you're short. And yes, you aren't real pretty. By the way, you are not as ugly as you always say. You're kind of-what-manly looking." She suddenly morphed to a more playful tone of voice.

"But Zeb, I will be buying your clothes from now on and telling you what to wear. You really have no taste when it comes to things like that, Zeb. Sorry, but that's a fact. So get used to the idea, bub, it's how it's going to be. Got it?" she said.

"Yeas, I get it. You can dress me any way you want. I will not gainsay you in anything. I only ask that you love me. And, you're right about the other stuff: there is nothing that I wouldn't do for you-nothing!" I said.

******

We got pregnant almost immediately. She'd damn near had to teach me how to stick it in because I sure didn't have any experience at it. Okay, maybe I'm kidding a little about that. But, she did teach me a lot, and especially how to do the things she liked. At any rate we were off and running in the race of life, our lives together. And, however good or not good I was in the sack; I proved more than good at producing superior offspring.

The first few years were terrific, no other terms fits. Then, as one might have expected things slowed down, and yes I'm talking about our sex lives slowed down. But, that said, things didn't stop; they just slowed down. But, what I didn't know was that in certain quarters I was considered boring.

******

Right after we'd tied the knot, we moved to Barton Oaks, a small town a hundred miles from where we were both raised. I was twenty-nine and Frannie was twenty-eight. We settled in and set up shop: she as a teacher at the local high school, and me in my own law practice in the center of town.

I should note that, before I'd set up shop in Barton Oaks, I'd done a two year at an all but minimum wage stint interning at a mid-sized practice in the city. At any rate, I had the urge to get out and on my own. I was smart enough, and I was willing to pay the price in the long hours and the hard work that I knew it would take to be successful.

To be honest, business at first was kinda slow. I found myself mostly doing wills and simple divorces along with the occasional partnership contract and the like. But, then I hit my stride. I hit it because of a lucky meet up with a stranger in a bar.

I was seated at the far end of the bar when a stranger walked in; well, he was a stranger to me. I was surprised when he headed straight for me and took the bar stool immediately to my left.

"Hi, my name's Mark, Mark Wilson, he said.

"Okay," I said. "Zeb Mercer, can I help you with something?"

"I expect maybe you can," he said. I looked him askance. "We have a common friend."

"We do? And who might you be referring to?" I said.

"Harry Gooden. He said you two went to school together," said Mark. I smiled.

"Yes, Harry. God I have seen him in an age. How is he?" I said.

"Good, he lives up in Fairoaks, as do I," he said. "Got a print shop."

"Really. Well, when you see him give him my best," I said.

"That I will," said Mark. "But, Mr. Mercer, I'm here for another reason, and Harry was the catalyst for it."

"Yes?"

"I need a job. I'm good at what I do, and I thought, and Harry thought; well, that you might be a good one to ask," he said.

"Look, Mark, I'm a lawyer. I run and small shop with one part time secretary named Lois. I…"

"Sir, I wouldn't cost you much…"

"Okay, let me ask. What do you do?' I said.

"I'm an ex-cop. But, now I'm a PI," he said.

That one stopped me. "A PI? A private investigator?" I said.

"Yes. I was bumped off the force for drinking on the job. But, I'm okay now. Been dry for a year," he said. I nodded.

"I see," I said. "Well, I'd like a little time to think about it. That be okay?" I said. I haven't had a lot of need for a PI so far, but…"

"Yes, sir, that would be fine," said Mark.

"Let me ask, what did you do, I mean when you were on the force?" I said.

"Neighborhood patrol mostly. Me and my pard, well we covered some of the inner city area. You know, the anti-gang thing," he said.

"Okay, here's my card. Call me in a couple of days," I said.

"Yes, sir, I will do that," he said. And just like that, I had a new resource with which to expand my client base and thereby my income base.

To make a long story short, Mark and I grew together, me into the top criminal lawyer in the southern half of the state, him into the Sword of Damocles hanging over the head of anybody with nasty secrets. Over time we developed a very close relationship; we trusted each other absolutely. Somebody with a big ass problem always got the both us; we were a package deal.

******

Things were great for Frannie and me once we got settled in to our lives. She was happy; I was happy, our two kids were happy. Well, we were all happy until the day I found out my wife had a lover. Now, all of us are in danger of becoming really, really unhappy.

Marlon Skaggs-you gotta love the name-is tall, dark, and handsome. He's got some money, not sure how much, and-well, and he has my wife's love. Well, maybe not her love, not sure about that either, but her lust at the least. He also has my undying hatred for seducing her, and putting us, the lot of us, in domestic jeopardy.

I stood there staring at the two of them fucking up a storm on the couch. He heard me, saw me, and ran from me like I carried the Ebola virus. My wife had the look of an interrupted fuckee; well, she was wasn't she. That is exactly what she was.

"Well, you certainly scared the shit out of Marlon," she said, about as casually as she ever said anything. Still naked, she'd reached for the decorative afghan that was spread over the back of the easy chair that she'd been bent over as he screwed her. She covered herself.

"What the hell was going on here, Frances Mercer," I said. Yeah, it was a ridiculous question. She laughed.

"What was going on? You're kidding, right," she said. "He was screwing me, Zebulon. He was fucking my brains out. I hope I'm not being too vague." I got quiet. What was there to say. Her attitude said it all. She didn't care what I thought. I felt my eyes begin to mist up.

"What, you're going to go all silent and cry! What a pussy I'm married to. Calm down Zebulon, you don't need to worry; I'm not going to divorce you. Actually, I'm quite fond of you. Really. I love you if you care to know. I certainly don't love that jackass, Marlon Skaggs. Good in bed, real good, but otherwise… He's a fucking used furniture dealer for godssakes. What's to love? But, he does beat the hell outta you as far as bedroom skills are concerned."

It had taken two decades plus, but I finally got around to figuring out what it was that Frances Mercer, nee Parker was into; it was humiliating me. High school, college, now in our family life. The gods hated me; I was sure of it. Fuck!

I turned to go. I stopped, turned again, and looked her up and down. "You sure are pretty even with your makeup all messed up; I'm gonna miss you a lot. I'll have the papers filed on Monday. I'll see to it that you get free visitation with the children, but no support. You're on your own there. Don't fight me on it, the divorce I mean. You can't win." I turned once again, and I was gone.

******

In year one of our marriage we'd been blessed with a son, Jan Michael. In year two Valerie came along and we opted to limit ourselves to them. Two were enough. Oh, and I should mention, that at our wedding, Mr. Parker did indeed present me with a bottle of Gentleman Jack; that for guessing wrong about how Frances would react to my breaking in on her and Trey Mitchel at the prom.

Frannie's hair was long now, her stature at five-nine was intimidating to some; she was truly beautiful. Me? At five-four any number of people questioned as to how I could ever have landed such a beauty. Hell, I'd asked myself that question a whole bunch of times; I was just glad she'd opted for me instead of her then boyfriend, Trey Mitchell. Well, I had been glad. Our children now thirteen and twelve, were beautiful too and were our respective pride and joys.

Socially, we were active. The draw was always Frannie; she was the toast of whatever we did and wherever we did it.

I'd had no clue that our marriage was in trouble. Oh, we'd had some disagreements of late. Most recently at a Christmas party for the faculty at her school. It had started out okay. We'd danced a couple of times, had our first drink; and then she was off socializing with everybody but me. It was a little disconcerting, and, irritating. I didn't know her friends on the faculty that well, so I was kinda just left to hang out by myself. I'd tried a couple of times to get her to sit with me between dances, but she'd just ignored me and let man after man sweep her out onto the floor. It was a good two hours before she even came back to see if I wanted to have a dance with her; I think she was feeling a little guilty-very little. By then, however, I was suitably miffed, and embarrassed, and kinda sulking, and I told her no. She smiled.

"Okay, you had your chance," she said. I left. The aftermath at home-don't know who delivered her-was pretty animated. She was mad. I just shrugged.

"You abandoned me at your party, so I abandoned you. You've got no gripe," I said.

"We'll see about that," she said. But, in point of fact, in theam the next day she'd mellowed, or seemed to have; and things got back to normal.

But, back to the bad day at Black Rock-to borrow an old phrase. As I'd driven home that day, the day of reckoning, I'd made a promise to myself to spend less time chasing the big bucks and to concentrate on revitalizing our home lives. I was no fool. I knew that it was going to be an uphill battle to get her to change her attitude; but I was committed to the effort.

The strange car in the driveway hadn't been a strange car. It'd been that of her fellow teacher Marlon Skaggs; I'd seen it often enough. He'd even been to a barbecue or two at our place. One can imagine my surprise as to what degree he'd made himself to home-in my home, and, in my wife. Now, as I drove to the town's only inn, The Marquee, I wondered how long and how often she'd been hanging horns on me. The love of my life had made me an unwilling cuckold, and in so doing had killed my love for her. I knew I was going to be sad later, but at the moment, as I pulled into the inn's parking lot; I was just flat angry, very angry.

******

My wife, as described, was no military genius, but she didn't need to be to find me. As explained, our little town only had only one inn; she figured I might be there. I had no relatives but my dad, and he lived a hundred miles away; and, I had no desire to impose on friends; hence, I would be staying at the Marquee, and she knew it.

It was Saturday morning, and I was in the afterglow of a really serious drunken stupor courtesy of the Marquee's lounge. I hadn't reached the point of the dry heaves; I'd stopped short of that; but I did have a really sensational headache, and my eyes throbbed. The rapping on my door was a major interruption in my growing sense of self-pity. I got the door.

"Frances! What are you doing here. And, you brought the kids with you!" I said, looking past her to Jan Michael and Valerie.

"Yes, they noticed you weren't home when they got up this morning. They figured the problem out: I think they heard us last night. I told them I was going to look for you. They decided that they wanted to come. Well, they are involved in all of this," she said.

"Hi dad," said Jan Michael.

"Hi daddy," said Valerie.

"Hi kids," I said. I knew I must've looked terrible; the looks they gave me were evidence of that.

"You gonna come home daddy? We want you to. Momma too," said Valerie. My wife looked at me smirking. I just knew she'd planned this-this assault on my conscience. It was a dirty trick, but one she was confident would break me down and rein me in.

"Yes, Zeb, you need to come home. You need to clean up, and then we can sit down and talk about this-problem-we seem to have," she said.

"Problem? Problem we seem to have! You're kidding right? Frances Mercer, your capacity for understatement defies belief," I said.

"Kids, go wait for your mom in the car. She and I need to have a word together. Okay?" I said.

"Dad, you really need to come home," said my thirteen year old. I looked him in the eye and nodded.

"We'll see," I said. He smiled.

The two of us watched the two of them head back to the car. "So what do you want, Frances? I mean what do you really want?" We were still standing in the doorway. "You pretty much destroyed me yesterday with your remarks. You figure I should be okay with that?" I said. She sighed.

"No, not okay, but forgiving and forgetting," she said. "I apologize for the things I said to you. They were not only uncalled for they were untrue."

"What you said to me? What about what you and dickhead did to me?" I said. Now, she looked away.

"Yes, that too. You weren't supposed to be home that early. You never should have seen that. But, that said, it doesn't have to be the end of us. It really was no big deal. So he banged me. So what. It was a mistake, and I made it. He and I made it. It won't happen again; I promise you," she said.

"You promise me?" I said.

"Yes. I don't even really like the guy. He just came by to deliver a DVD of my students semester SAT-10 scores, and…"

"You don't like him? And what if you did like him? What would you have been doing then? I mean if you don't mind my asking," I said.

"Look, Zeb, sex is just a means of recreation. You wanna play a little on the side, be my guest. So long, that is, that you don't do it in our bed. For the record Marlon wanted to do it there, and I put the boff on that. That's a place for you and me only," she said.

"Well, hell, I'm glad you have some standards," I said. "You say it'll never happen again. Is that what you said?"

"Yes. I promise. You will never catch me doing that shit again," she said.

Now, I'm a lawyer. My job is to be able to determine when someone is trying to put something over on me. And my everlovin' wife just tried to do that very thing. I smiled.

"But, you do intend to keep on fucking him, right?" I said. She looked me in the eye. I could see her frustration.

"What did I just say, Zebulon?" she said, trying to regain the initiative.

"You said that I wouldn't be catching you at it, not that you wouldn't be doing it," I said. "There's a big difference."

"Look, come home and we'll talk. I'm sorry for everything. Okay? But, we need to talk."

I was actually amused. She apparently thought that I was the village idiot. I mean, and that with our history. She had to know better.

"Okay, I'll come home. We'll talk. But, I'm not giving up my room here until I'm satisfied that some things are going to change. Are you clear on that?" I said.

"Yes. Now let's go," she said.

I hadn't taken anything with me when I'd left the night before, so I did want to get home and get a shower and some clothes in case I'd be needing them. I mean in the event that I wasn't satisfied with whatever she was going to lay on me.

The kids ran to me when I came through the door. "Well, at least some people around here like me," I said to my wife, who was standing behind them. She just shook her head in disapproval.

"I'm going to cook us up some eggs and bacon, okay?" she said. I shrugged.

"I could eat," I said. My stomach was still roiling from the night before. If I could keep the food down, I was pretty sure I would feel a lot better. She nodded and headed for the kitchen.

We ate breakfast as a family. I wondered if this was part of her strategy to get me in a receptive mood for whatever it was that was about to go down.

"Dad, are you going to stay home, now?" said Valerie. I just smiled.

"We'll see baby," I said.

"Yeah, dad, please," said Jan Michael.

I helped her clean up the dishes, and then made the coffee. I needed the coffee. Boy did I need that coffee.

She was drying her hands on a small kitchen towel. She stopped and stared at me. "I guess we should have our little talk," she said. I sagged back into my seat fingering the handle on my coffee cup.

"Yes. I think we should," I said.

"Do you have any questions? I mean before we begin?' she said.

"A few," I said. She waited. "How many, how long, and why?" I said. She sighed.

"Not many. Off and on over the years. As to why-well-it's complicated," she said. I sat there with my mouth wide open and stunned. I'd expected denials. Well, I didn't get them.

"Do you realize what you just said to me?" I said.

"Yes, the truth," she said.

"Well, fucking wonderful," I said. "Like I said, yesterday, I will file on Monday. Thanks for breakfast, missus soon to be ex-missus-Mercer!"

"Sit down, hot rod," she said. "I am not nearly done talking. We're not nearly done talking. Okay?" For the life of me, I sat.

"Zeb, I love you, and only you. I think I always have. I mean always," she said. "Since that first tutorial back in high school. I don't think I realized it then; that's why I blew it at the prom like I did. Actually, I was suffering from a disease at the time." I looked her askance.

"Yes, asshole-itis." I snickered-well, it was funny.

"No argument from me," I said, and I didn't smile. She gave me a look.

"Yes, well, I guess I still have a bit of that disease still in me, Zeb. And, well, I don't know the cure."

"Fran, I have just one more question to ask you. I need a truthful answer. It shouldn't be too hard for you to tell me the truth. I mean you've done such an outstanding job of it so far this morning."

"Yes?"

"Do you intend to keep on cheating on me, Fran? Do you?" I said. She looked down.

"Cheating on you? No. But, if you ask the question differently. I mean do I still intend to fuck other men occasionally? The answer then is yes," she said. I nodded.

"Thanks for the truth. It is appreciated. Like I said earlier, I'll be filing. I don't share my woman, not willingly. A willing cuckold, I ain't gonna be! I hope you can understand what I'm saying." I'd made a decision, actually two counting deciding finally to get the divorce.

"That said, I will be staying here. You will have to leave, Fran. I will give you a couple of days to find a place, and I will fund your move in costs. But, then it will be on you," I said.

"I'm not going anywhere, Zeb. Unless you figure on manhandling me out of here; it ain't gonna happen, Zeb. But, I will move my stuff into the spare bedroom." I smiled, she had no idea what she was going to be up against.

"Well, then, love of my life, we go to war," I said. She looked suddenly tired-no-worried.

"Zeb, I'm your wife. Your wife of many years. I don't want to lose you. But-I need more than you can give me in the sack. Think about it, Zeb. Don't do this to us."

"I'm not doing anything to us, Frannie, you are. You are doing me real bad, and I cannot let it go. We're finished you and I. I just hope that what you have been getting from your illicit affairs has been worth it because the cost is going to be high-very very high, Fran. And not just for you, but for your lovers too. Depend on it," I said.

"Zeb, please, rethink what you're saying. Please!" she said.

"No," I said. "Oh, and I hope your lovers, any of them that happen to be married, have understanding wives because they are about to see a perfect storm of real bad shit." That one seemed to shake her.

I left her sitting there and went upstairs. She came up and found me on the phone.

"… Yeah, Mark… whatever it takes… yeah, yesterday… Thanks," I hung up.

"Who was that?" she said.

"My business is no longer your business," I said. "Go fuck one of your 'not many' lovers. Maybe they'll talk to you. It won't be long before they're talking about you for damn sure; I fucking guarantee it!"

"Zeb, please, you're going to hurt a lot of people if you carry out your threats," she said. "Children as well as wives and husbands."

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!" She had a sad look on her face as she gathered up some of her things from the bedroom. She paused at the door, holding an armload of clothes.

"Zeb, we could still have a wonderful life, grow old together. It's what I want. I love you." The steel in my eyes shut her up. She headed off down the hall.

Later, I was sitting out on the patio. The sun was going down. I had two fingers of Gentleman Jack in the old fashioned glass in front of me; yeah, I'd acquired a taste for the Tennessean product. I was swishing it around in the glass. She came out and stood some feet away from me.

"Okay, Zeb, you win," she said. "I'll stop. But, please, don't do-well-what you were going to do. Please." I looked over at her.

"Zeb, I know it's going to take a little time to get by this. But, please, give me a chance. Please," she said.

She'd surprised me. I didn't think she'd cave so easily. The Frances I knew had way too much ego to give in on anything meaningful. But, she had caved, or so it appeared, and now I had to decide if I believed her or not. And even then, believing her, if I could get by what she said about me and to me and what I'd seen, not to mention the arrogance of her ultimatums.

"Really?" I said, doubt verily dripping from my tongue.

"Please call off your dogs, Zeb. I know that was likely Mark Wilson you were talking to on the phone earlier. Please don't let him ruin anyone's life, Zeb, please."

I could see Jan Michael and Valerie watching from the window. I nodded in their direction and smiled.

"Okay, Fran. I'll call him off-for now. I'll call off the dogs, as you put it. But, Frances, if you double me up… " I said.

"I understand," she said.

Did I believe her? Not on your life. But, on the off chance that she might actually finally get it; well, I did love her, and her moving out was going to be as hard on me as it would be on the kids. So, I decided to give it a shot and eat my pride. I figured I'd know one way or the other in short order, because what I would not call off was Mark keeping an eye on her.

My house, her car, my car, her purse, everything was going to be wired, and that for some time to come. And Mark would be gathering data on mister Marlon Skaggs and anyone else we could discover had ever slipped his dick into my wife's cunt. Oh, I'd not use any of it unless she doublecrossed me. But, just one mistake, just one, and the wrath of Olympian Zeus would be visited on the sinners involved.

******

A day later, I happened to be carrying some dirty clothes downstairs to the service porch when I heard her on the phone. It had to be Skaggs.

"No.No, never again… No, no, no he has resources you have no knowledge of… he would steamroll us… no, not even lunch… find yourself another chickee, I'm a one man woman now; it has to be that way… you too… yes, thanks."

You gonna be satisfied with my skills, and, equipment," I said, as I walked in on her. "And yes, I heard the end of your conversation with-who-Marlon?" She nodded.

"Yes, I just called him to let him know the situation, that we were done, him and me," she said. My turn to nod.

******

The next two years were good. Mark, my resident PI at the office had found nothing in the months following my confrontation with Frannie, and I had de-wired everything and called off the dogs, as she had phrased it. I was feeling good, and confident. I did continue to have her spot checked, her and Marlon Skaggs too, but so far nothing had come up.

The kids were now fourteen and fifteen, me and Frances forty-four and forty-five. She was now department chair for the Arts and Humanities division at her school. My firm was doing well, and some of my clients were very well off and able to afford me. Yes, times were good. But, of late I had been having a small problem with Frannie.

The sex since the fire storm had been much increased, and the quality for some time had been exceptional, at least as far as I was concerned. But of late, while the quantity hadn't dipped noticeably, the quality had. She seemed to be going through the motions. We'd screw, I'd head for the bathroom to clean up, and when I returned she'd have rolled over and been fast asleep. It bothered me, so far not enough for me to say anything to her; but it was getting to that point.

I didn't want it to seem like I was whining, but I was almost at the point of politely asking her about it-her attitude. I was saved the trouble.

Breakfast was good. The kids had gotten off to school. She looked over at me and brought me a cup of java. I smiled. She didn't.

"Honey, can we talk?" I nodded.

"Honey, I think we need to get a divorce," she said. I had been raising my cup to take my first sip. I stopped, holding the cup maybe halfway to my mouth. I lowered it, setting it gently back on the table.

I narrowed my eyes and met her gaze. I think she shivered. "Marlon Skaggs?" I said. She looked down. "Okay, you got it. I will see to it today. You want the house?"

"Honey, I don't care about the house or your money…"

"Maybe not, but he will. He gettin' a divorce from his wife?" I said. Her head snapped around.

"I see. He's not then. The two of you are just going to continue to stab her in the back if not me. That about it? You just want to be free to fuck him." I smiled. She'd really fucked up with her pronouncement. "I was already planning Gotterdammerung for mister Skaggs. Frances figured to be-what-oh yeah, collateral damage.

"Honey…"

"I'm no longer your honey, Frances. I'm mister Mercer to you, Frances Parker," I said. "You will get shared custody until the kids are eighteen. Any problem with that," I said.

"Hon-I mean mister Mercer," she said, "please, can we be friends. I didn't break my promise to you. I didn't go behind your back and fuck him or anybody else. That's why I am coming to you now. You know to be up front with you," she said. I snickered.

"You sayin' you haven't done the dirty with him since we made up two years ago. The truth please," I said. "Oh, and no we can't be friends. Not fucking even."

"Oh my, Zeb. I just wish-" she said. " Zeb, no I haven't done anything with him, not even a kiss. To be honest, I've wanted to do it with him. But, I haven't. Honestly, I haven't. But, working with him every day-well-it's just been hard. More so lately. I don't know, I guess I'm getting to that point in my life when I need…"

"Something more than I've got to give. Is that it, Frances?" I said. She looked down. "I'll tell you this. If what you are saying is true, if you haven't given it up since before, well before-then-I won't destroy you. But, if you are lying to me…"

"I'm not, Zeb, I'm not!" I nodded.

"We'll see, I said. We'll see, oh yes we'll see. Indeed we will." I wiped my mouth with the napkin in front of me. I don't know why I did it; I hadn't sipped my coffee, and now I didn't even want it.

"I'm going to ask you again. Do you want the house? The kids will stay here of course till they go off to college. Whoever has it will be responsible for them and their day to day needs. And the other of us will have free, open, and unrestricted visitation. Any problem with that?" I said.

"No. No problem with that," she said. "And yes, I'd like to have the house if that's all right."

"Okay, we will break it to the children together tonight.

"Oh, and one last thing. Since you will essentially be fornicating with this married, mother-fucking, cheating asshole; he will never be allowed in this house unless he divorces his wife and you marry him. Never! He never comes in here for any reason whatsoever! Your gonna have to fuck him somewhere else. Got it! That's ironclad. You okay with that?" She nodded.

"Yes. I understand, and I agree to your condition," she said. I nodded.

"Okay. I will be back tonight. Do not say anything to the children until I get home. I would not feel real good about being sandbagged. I hope you get my meaning, miss Parker."

"Okay, Zeb, I understand." I stopped and looked at her.

"Frances, be aware, be warned, if you try to screw me over, or if he does; well, my wrath will be all but boundless. And, know that in that event that I will pull out all of the stops to make things right: the way I see them as being right. Clear?" I said.

"Yes sir," she said. I could see her quiver; my tone was not threatening; it was simply stating a reality that she knew I could deliver on.

"I got up and went into the living room where my coat was hanging on the back of a dinette chair. I got it, and looked back toward the kitchen. I could see her still sitting there, brow knitted, eyes watering-well-I might have been wrong about that. I turned and left.

******

She sat across from him. It was their third meet up within the previous two weeks. Denny's had good coffee and they were open twenty-four hours; they seemed to be making a habit of going there to talk.

"So, how did he take it?" he said.

"Not good. Not good at all. I can only say that it's a damn good thing that we haven't done anything because if we had he'd destroy us. But, I did get him to believe me on that one-thank God."

"I just wish we could come to some accommodation with him. Let him know that you don't hate him, that I want to be his friend. We fell in love; it happens. He can rebound from this. He can get another woman. Hell, he's a helluva catch: money, intelligence, social standing, contacts. He's got it all!

"Yeah right: and short, and plain looking, and boring. Any gold digger in town would be happy to be his significant other," she said. She wasn't being sarcastic.

"Frannie, come on. You know what I mean. He has assets. You and I haven assets. That's the way the world is. And anyway, if you thought so little of him, why did you marry him?"

"Marlon, I agree that we need to find a way to ease him into this new-relationship. He and I still have two kids. There will be times when we will be thrown together. As to why I married him, I didn't say he wasn't a great catch; he was and is. I just said he was short, plain, and boring in bed. He's also loving and kind and smart and sensitive to my needs and those of the children. I actually love him more now than I did twenty years ago. But, forget me and him; he and I are quits.

"You still going to tell Martha? Divorce her?" she said.

"Yes, I just need a little time to cover myself, so that if she goes off on me that I don't end up ruined," he said.

"Frannie, maybe if we talked to him together. You know made the case that this isn't the end of the world for him. That you two will still have a relationship. If we don't…"

"Yes, I know, and you're right. Otherwise, I can just see him in some cheap hotel room brooding about us; then, going crazy on us. I agree, but what can we do. He was not at all being nice this morning, let alone communicative," said Fran.

"You say he'll be coming over tonight to see you and the kids? To talk to them?" He said.

"Yes."

"I want to be there. In this with you. I want to apologize to him for what I know is a bad deal from his point of view. And, assure him that I really do want to be his friend, try and get along with him. What do you think?" he said.

"I don't know. He's pretty steamed," she said.

"Yes, yes I get it. But, all I will be doing is apologizing and begging his forgiveness for something that was, arguably, beyond my control-our control," he said.

"Okay, I guess it's worth a try. I sure don't have any better ideas," she said.

******

The knot in my stomach clamored for attention, but I just kept driving. Well, I did until the flashing red light of the black and white taxi that was chasing me finally caught my eye. I pulled over.

I knew the drill. I kept my hands where the officer could see them-on the wheel.

"Counselor," said the genuinely surprised patrolman. I looked up to see Jimmy Conner.

"Hi Jimmy," I said.

"Sir, Mr. Mercer! you were going almost eighty miles an hour," he said.

"Sorry, Jimmy," I said. "I guess, I had my mind somewhere else. No excuse, of course."

"Mister Mercer, I'm gonna let this one slide. But, please, slow it down. Okay." He said.

"Okay, Jim. I will, I promise. And thanks." Jimmy had been a tough kid some years before, and in and out of trouble. I'd represented him. It had been one of my first cases. He was slated for Juvy if he'd been convicted. I'd won his case and given him a deal of tough love. He'd ended up going to junior college and from there to the police academy. It was one of my success stories: one I took especial pride in.

"I did slow down. I ended up in the next township over at The Black Hat Bar and Grill. The Black Hat was attached to a motel of the same name; The Black Hat Inn had clean sheets. I'd be staying there for a few days while I figured things out. It was still just late morning. A helluva lot had happened in the few short hours since I'd gotten up.

I avoided getting blind falling down drunk. I had a meeting with my children and the cheater in what I figured would be about eight hours from now. That said, I did have a few. Enough that I had to have a cab come for me at sundown.

We pulled up in front of the house that had been my home for more than ten years. Funny, it had gone from home to house in a single day.

I paid the cabbie and headed inside. I didn't knock. Entering I froze in my tracks. The kids were being noisy in the den. Seemed like they could be heard in the next township they were so loud, and apparently happy; that would change. But it wasn't the kids that got my attention. Oh no, no indeed.

Seated on the couch was my very pretty soon to be ex-wife. Seated, like I said, and making out with my worst enemy. She saw me and paled.

"Zeb, you didn't knock," said Frances Parker. She had the decency to at least pretend to look embarrassed.

"Knock on my own door?" I said. She flushed at my words. I headed into the den. I gathered the kids around me.

"Sit down, babies," I said. I have something to tell you.

The two cheaters were a couple of minutes behind me. I guess they'd been getting their stories straight. They interrupted my opening remarks to the children. "Zeb, I'm sorry. Marlon just came over-he wanted to apologize for everything. And well, ask you to…"

"Shut the fuck up, Frances. I'll be getting to you in a minute-and him too," I said. "I'm talking to my children. You can do or say what you want to afterwards." The kids looked shocked by my words, my attitude.

"Zeb…"

"Shut up," I said.

"Mister Mercer," said the interloper. I gave him a look that silenced him in a trice.

"Children, there is no easy way to say this. So, I'm going to tell it like it is. Your mother doesn't love me anymore. She wants whatever this asshole has in his pants instead! I will be moving out tonight. You can come with me or stay; or, maybe join me tomorrow after you've had a chance to pack. At any rate, you're old enough to make your own decisions on this."

"Zebulon Mercer!" screamed my wife. "What are you doing! Saying!"

"Whatever I'm doing miss Parker, I'm not making out with a stranger on the couch while my children are just one room away," I said. "You two have no shame!" And, I was screaming.

"We were not making out! We were…"

"Liar!" I screamed. I pulled my cell. I hit one of the speed dial numbers.

"Mark, it's Gotterdammerung!… Yes… and Mark, and I mean now, right now… Yes… that too… pull out all of the stops… Bye"

I pocketed the cell. "We had an agreement, miss Parker; he was not to be here as long as he is married to someone else and not married to you. I'm just glad I walked in on you like I did. You'll pay now, Frances. And, so will shithead there."

"Zeb! He was here to apologize to you. Try and make things right. Try to be a friend to you. And for your information, I do still love you," she said.

"You're a liar and a bad one," I said. "You need to find yourself a lawyer. I'm going after you."

"Zeb, the children!" she said, I had almost forgotten them.

"Jan Michael, Valerie. I will be back tomorrow. If you want to live with your dad be ready. If you want to stay with her, I'll understand; she is still your mother."

"Mister Mercer, please. Let me say something please, please, please," he said. I sneered.

As quietly as I could get the word out, I said, "Go." He visibly shivered. Just then the phone rang. Frances picked it up.

"Martha! Yes, he's here and so is Zeb… Yes, the both of them."

She handed him the phone. He held it to his ear. His face went gray. He looked at me and then at her. "She's divorcing me." He handed her back the phone; she put it in the cradle.

"Zeb, what've you done!" she said.

"Figure it out. You're college educated. All you had to do was keep your promise to me to not allow shithead there in this house. But, you couldn't even do that."

"Daddy! Please don't be so mad," said Val, she was starting to cry. "You're scaring me." I looked over at her.

"Honey, you don't need to be scared really. Daddy loves you more than anything. You too Jan Michael."

"Zebulon Mercer! You're making a horrendous mistake!" she said.

"You mean horrendous as in cheating on your husband and him on his wife. You mean mistakes like those?" I said. "Gee, gotta say that I don't agree. I'm just going to see justice done. It's that simple."

"Mr. Mercer. What you've done…"

"Fuck off, Marlon baby. You being divorced is just the beginning of your miseries. You can take that to the bank. I'm going to be peein' all over your blue suede shoes," I said. "And, in case I sound a little bitter-and yes, maybe even a little jealous-well chock it up to your bad luck!

"Here in the house, Frances! How dared you!" I screamed. The children quailed.

"Zeb, I didn't dare. Yes, you caught me kissing him. But it was a kiss of support. For what he, we, were going to be facing when you got home. I knew you were mad. He's here because we wanted to soften the way things seemed to be going between you and me. I do love you still; it's just…"

"Yeah, he has a bigger dick or whatever. Right?" I said.

"Zebulon!"

"Yeah Frances. Trust me, you're going to be remembering my name for damn sure."

"Okay, then, Zeb, you leave me no choice. I will be getting a lawyer. You want to play it that way, the hard way. Then, okay. My family has money. I can play your game," she said. Her eyes were hard.

"Bring it, baby," I said. "This is going to be fun. Well, it will for one of us," I said. I stormed out.

******

The Black Hat was forty-two miles away. I'd be staying there in the off chance that my enemies might want to harass me if I stayed at the Marquee. Besides the barkeep was a comely dame with the gift of gab. I was gonna wanna be talkin', and she was as likely a candidate as any. Now, all I had to do was remember her name.

I made another call and waited, my JD Tennessee sour mash double sat in front of me on the bar.

"Mister Mercer? Can I get you anything else?" she said.

"Miss-I'm afraid I forgot your name. I had my mind on other things earlier today-and…

"Hey aren't you working kind of a long shift?" I said. She smiled.

"Yes, I'm doing a double. The boss had to go out of town," she said. "And my name is Zoe, Zoe Campbell."

"Well, nice to meet you, Zoe Campbell," I said. Just then, my visitor arrived.

"Hi boss," said Mark. "You okay?"

"Zoe, a scotch on the rocks for my bud here, if you please." I waited for Zoe to saunter off down the bar to fill the order.

"Define 'okay'," I said. Mark Wilson nodded. He'd been where I was. His wife had abandoned him without so much as a by your leave six years before. I could count on his enthusiasm to prosecute my war with the enemy.

"You got the stuff?" I said.

"Yeah, financials, even an interesting brush with the law. I also have videos of him fucking around on his wife. Oh, but the best part-he's using," he said.

"Using?" I said. I shut up as Zoe delivered the scotch to Mark and headed off down the bar once again to allow us our privacy.

"Cocaine. Not a lot, and not all the time. But, if we can get him with the stuff in his possession; well, you know the bit," said Mark. I smiled.

"Yes, yes, indeed I do," I said.

"Zeb, if I'm outta line, say so, and I'll shut up. But-are you sure you want to break up with Frannie. I know you love her more than anything," he said.

"No, I don't want to break up with her. But, she doesn't want me around; so it's a moot point," I said. He nodded.

"Okay. But…"

"But what?" I said.

"I have always regretted that I didn't fight harder for my Claire," he said. "I don't wanna see you make the same mistake. Anyway, that's my two cents."

"Thanks Mark. I appreciate your concern. I really do. But, this one is beyond the pale. Way beyond the pale," I said.

"Okay then. I will be unloading this stuff on him in theam He's in for a truly nasty comeuppance." I smiled the smile of the vengeful.

******

The next few days were uneventful in the main. The children opted to stay at the house for the short term. I understood that. Valerie cried her eyes out when I made it clear that I couldn't, wouldn't, be coming home, couldn't live with them anymore. I also made it clear that they would be welcome at my place whenever they saw fit to come there. Then, on the fourth day a shit storm broke that burned all of the main players.

Frances had me served. I'd expected it. Her dad was funding her drive for independence. No problem so far, right. But then the kicker. She had filed to deny me access to my children based on the way I'd behaved that last day.

She'd even gotten the children to admit to child services that I had used bad language, threatened the asshole, and even accused my wife of wrongdoing in front of them. Well, she hadn't lied. Skewed the truth a little, but I had done all of those things. In the heat of the moment catching her all lovey-dovey with the asshole had sent me over the top. The good news was that I knew the law better than most. I would eventually get equal custody with my babies; it was just a matter of time.

And then there was Marlon. He was being divorced, and to add to that, I had arranged a cherry on top of that particular ice cream sunday, he was served in jail. Tax evasion. His financials; were oh so messed up. The day he was arrested, I got a visit from my soon to be ex. I couldn't understand much of what she was saying; coherent she was not, but loud she was. I called the cops. They came and escorted the thoroughly distraught Frances away. She spent a couple of hours in lockup herself before her dad could get her out. He came to see me.

******

"Well, Zeb, looks like you and my daughter have some problems," he said. He wasn't laughing. I raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Parker, All I wanted was my family. Then, when I lost that, all I wanted was for her not to be flaunting her infidelity in my face or that of the children. I told her not to allow him in the house unless she married him. Then, when I lost there too, I got mad. Now, it is what it is." He nodded.

"My daughter is willful, Zeb. You above all should know that. She'll straighten out. I know her. But it'll take some time. You need to cool it and wait her out," he said.

"Wait her out?" I said.

"Yes, she'll come back to you. She loves you. She just doesn't know how much yet."

"Mr. Parker, we've been married fifteen years. How long does it take someone to figure out whether they love you or not?" I said.

He smiled the smiled of a man who knows things. "Zeb, this thing with the other guy. It was just a lark. She's been whining to me for a long time; well, about you. I listen and say nothing, except to get with you and solve your-her-problems. She says you ain't much in bed and not much at the breakfast table either. Sorry, but it's what she says."

"Well, you certainly know how to build a guy's confidence. But, you're wrong about her loving me. She despises me. Maybe for the reasons you just said. I don't know. But, Mr. Parker, I do know-remember-you were wrong about her being willing to date me when I pinned her at the senior prom those many years ago. Kinda puts the boff on you knowing how she thinks. Do you know I still haven't opened that bottle of JD you gave me on our wedding day? I was saving it for a special occasion." And you know, I just had a thought.

"How about this. If she drops butthead, and comes back to me; I mean for real. You and I will pop the cork on that bottle and drink it the hell up. It'd sure as hell be an occasion," I said.

He smiled. "You have a deal bub. You do indeed have a deal."

******

"I don't know, Val, I've never seen daddy so angry," said Jan Michael.

"Well, with mom making it with that man and dad catching them-I have no words," she said.

"Val, I don't want mom and dad to break up. There has to be something that we can do. Something, anything!" he said.

"Problem, Jan, is that we have no say in the matter. None. I wish we did too, but… " she said.

"I know, I know; but there has to be something. And, dad is so mad he might hurt mom bad if we can't get him to mellow out. I think mom is a fool for messin' with that big guy; that alone is something that mom needs to worry about," he said.

"For sure. Mom bringing him here like she did and rubbing dad's nose in it. I mean this new guy being so tall and good looking and our dad-well he's great but not like this new guy. It had to look like she was bragging that she had someone worthy of her on the line. It had to kill dad inside. Know what I mean. Not to mention him catching them kissin' or making out or whatever they were doing-not good!" she said.

"For sure. I don't know what she could have been thinking. We have to talk to mom. I don't think she realized just how bad the things she did looked to dad. She couldn't have. Could she? I mean realized how bad the comparison between him and our dad appeared." he said. His sister just shook her head.

"Look, our dad is twice what the team of them will ever be in most ways; but, in terms of sex appeal; well, it didn't look good," said Valerie. "She hurt him real bad bringing her boyfriend here. Real bad."

"You think they were making out?" he said. "I mean she said he just kinda gave her a support peck, nothing really bad. You know?" he said.

"I don't know. I guess I believe her. I mean would she do anything much while we were in the house?" she said. Her brother nodded.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But, trying to convince dad of it, well… " She nodded.

"I think that that is the first step for us," she said.

Whaddya mean?" he said.

"To get dad to accept that they weren't about to do the sex thing right there on the couch. It's so illogical that mom has to be telling the truth," she said.

"Okay, suppose we succeed. So what? I mean what will be our next step," he said.

"To get mom and him to sit down and talk, maybe even with us there. Or not. I'm not sure. But until they do talk, nothing much is going to change," she said. His turn to nod.

******

She was there when they handed him back his personal belongings six days after his arrest. "You okay, Marlon?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess. Embarrassed and hungry. And, my bones are chilled. It was freezing in there last night," he said. "Being behind bars ain't no fun. Your husband is really sticking it to me. That he hates me, I am fully cognizant. What's changed now is that I also hate him.

"He's cost me my marriage, gotten me indicted on federal tax evasion charges, and probably plans to do more to me before he's done. Yes, I can say with a great deal of confidence and justification that I hate him too," he said.

"Oh, and Fran, thanks a million for being here for me. You have no idea. Martha tried like hell to keep me from getting at my money even to so much as to post bail. I think she likes the idea of me being in a cage," he said.

"No problem, big guy. I'm here for you.

"Marlon, I am going after him too. I've got money that my grandma left me, and my dad will support me through the divorce. He won't help me find out things about Zeb, things about the way he runs his lawyer's office, things I don't know; but I can do that on my own," she said. "I didn't want to go down that road, but he refuses to cut us so much as a smidgen of slack. We have to fight back. I don't know if we can win, but we have to try," she said.

"I suppose you're right. But, you know, no one ever comes out on top in these kinds of things. Everybody's going to lose-everybody," he said. She sighed indicating that she knew he was right.

******

I'd taken to hanging out at the Black Hat B&G.; They never ran out of Gentleman Jack, and Zoe Campbell was always there to make me feel a tad better than the last time I'd been in-usually the day before. On some level, one had to love it.

I'd been seein' my kids pretty regular, a plus for me at a time in my life when things didn't seem to be adding up too well. Consider. I'd been married to the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. We'd had a decade and a half of mostly unmitigated happiness and progress. Economically we, Frances and Me, had been damn near on easy street, this at a time when almost nobody else was. I-we-shoulda been in the black familially. But then, the fifth horseman arrived. Yeah, you know, the five horsemen: war, famine, pestilence, death, and adultery. We, or at least I, were most definitely in the red, familially, and I hated it.

I needed a shoulder, and I didn't have one. As I nursed my second of the evening, I noticed Zoe washing glasses down the bar. I'd been in kind of a funk, not a rare happening for sure, but more so of late. At any rate as I kept my eye on my favorite purveyor of amber refreshment, I had a thought. All she could do was tell me to go to hell. And hell, worse had happened to me. I decided to go for it. I raised my paw in the universal request for service. She saw, and came over to me.

"So Zoe, when are you going to let me take you to dinner?" I said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Dinner. You know, where I hold the chair for you as you take your seat. Smile at whatever you decide to say. Laugh at any jokes you see fit to proffer me. You know-a date." I said.

"Huh?" she was clearly out of the loop.

"Would Friday evening be okay?" I said.

"Uh-huh-yeah-sure," she said.

"Good. Sevenish? Oh, and I'll need your address and phone," I said.

"Okay," she said. She reached under the bar and pulled out her purse. She found a slip of paper in it and a pen and wrote down the necessary info for me.

"Thanks. I guarantee we are going to have a good time," I said.

"Okay," she said.

I think I mentioned earlier on that Zoe had the gift of gab. Well, tonight was a clear exception to the little reality, and, I wasn't sure why.

I picked her up on time and in style. For some reason I'd been thinking of my past, my past with Frances Parker. I remembered that she had not ridden in my limo the night of the prom so long ago. Tonight, Zoe would.

"Jesus, Zeb, a limo!" she said.

"Only the best for my lady," I said. I was feeling good. And, the good news was that Zoe was looking even better than I was feeling. Not in Frances Parker's league, of course, but damn good. And, Zoe had an added plus, or minus is maybe the correct term; she was shorter than me at five-two.

We drove to the Hardesty: the best steak house in the southern part of the state. It was a place I brought high tone clients to when the occasion demanded such.

We ate and talked. She already knew my situation: that I was getting a divorce. Even some of the details thereof if not exactly everything.

"So why, Mr. Mercer, sir?" she said.

I leaned back in my seat. "Truth?" I said. She nodded.

"You're pretty. I need a woman to talk to-and… " I left the rest unsaid.

"I'm not a plaything, Mr. Mercer. I like you. I could maybe get to like you a lot. But if all you are looking for is a roll in the sack; well, you might as well take me home now. I am not-repeat not-that kind of girl," I laughed outright. I shook my head.

"No, no, Zoe. Don't get me wrong, sex is not exactly the last thing on my agenda; but, that said, I meant what I said a minute ago. I need a woman to talk to that likes me. And, you do fit the bill.

"As for the sex, again, I'd not be kicking you outta bed for damn sure, but tonight that is not happening, nor will it happen with you or any woman until they-she-is ready and wants it too," I said. "Okay?" She smiled.

"Okay," she said.

The Hardesty had extensive gardens. Word had it that it had once actually been an arboretum. There were walkways, paths, for customers to burn off some of the calories taken in during their meals. Zoe and I decide to stroll down one of them.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said.

"Not really thinking. Just kinda enjoying the moment," I said.

"You okay?" she said. "I mean, I know the wife thing and all?"

"As good as can be expected. Thanks for asking. It'll be a while before I get over the betrayal. But, I'm working on it. She-they-will not be profiting from it," I said. I coulda gotten by the adultery, even the divorce, but not with the in-your-face arrogance that they put me through. That I will not forgive, nor forget. Their asses are gonna be mine."

She was silent for a long minute. "I see," she said. as we headed back to the restaurant. "Zeb, you didn't ask, but I'm gonna say it anyway. Revenge can hurt the avenger as much as the avengee."

I shrugged. I can't let it go. Messin' with each other in the living room while my kids were in the next room, and the both of them knowing I was due to come by. I caught them at it. She actually had the brass cojones to ask me why I hadn't knocked before just walking in on them. I mean in my house, my front room! Oh no, that one I don't let slide," I said. She nodded.

"Doesn't sound like either of them is too bright. I mean they had to know they were likely to get caught by somebody if what you say is true," she said.

'Yeah, well you said it; neither of them is a military genius," I said.

We arrived back at the restaurant, and we headed out. Pulling up in front of her place, I was suddenly nervous.

"Am I worth a second date?" I said. She smiled, leaned in, and kissed me: softly and sweetly. God she tasted good, even better than Frances.

"Does that answer your question?" she said.

"Sure does, but it raises another one," I said.

"What?" she said with a knitted brow.

"Would next Friday night be good for you?' I said. She giggled.

"You betcha cowboy," she said.

******

Two days after my date with Zoe, I got the call. It was 6:00AM. I almost didn't answer it. But, the caller ID showed it to be my baby, Valerie. I answered it. She announced to me that we had a meeting: she, Jan Michael, and me, at 10:00AM at the Marquee. It was Sunday morning. I really would have preferred it to be later, but my children were calling the shots.

******

"I feel like we should rub his nose in it and do it in the house," she said. "But, with the kids being around… " said Frances.

"Yes, I agree. With the children around-well-it would not be good. We don't need any of that for sure," said Marlon.

"I like your new digs," she said, changing the subject.

"They're not new. I inherited this place from my dad's brother, uncle Sy, when he died: this and a little money. I've just rented it out these many years. Made a bit of money on it too. It made life a little easier on me and Martha over the years," he said.

She came to him. He put his arms around her and kissed him gently, almost caressingly. He let his hands rest on her hips. He looked into her eyes.

"I have needed this for a long time," he said.

"Me too. My hubby didn't have anything to complain about, I mean us, before; but he sure as hell will by the time this day is over," she said.

"Let's not talk about him, today, Fran. He's outside of us. Tomorrow we may be at war, but today and tonight is for us. Okay?"

"Okay, you're right," she said.

He slipped the shoulder straps of her sun dress off and the garment fell to the ground pooling around her ankles. "No bra," he said.

"No," she said. He smiled; she smiled. He leaned in to kiss each of her nipples.

"You taste real good," he said. She giggled.

"That tickles. Get down on your knees," she said. He obeyed her. "Pull them down."

He inserted his thumbs inside the waistband of her panties and slowly exposed her mound. It was as bald as the day she was born. He kissed it, then licked the slit, then buried his face in it licking and sucking her for all he was worth. He spun her around, spread her cheeks and licked her there. She shivered.

"You are a horny bastard today aren't you, big boy," she said.

"Oh yeah, horny and desperate," he said. He pulled her down to the floor with him and gently urged her onto her back. She spread her legs wide for him, and he went after her with his tongue as though it had the secret to immortality. She bucked and squirmed and orgasmed and orgasmed again. He stood.

He was undressed and naked in seventeen-point-three seconds. He knelt between her legs. His hands were limp at his sides as he gazed into her eyes. "I love you, Frances Mercer," he said.

"Parker," she corrected him. He smiled.

"Parker it is," he said.

He lowered himself until the glans of his dick brushed against slit of her vagina. She pulled her knees back, her juices already flowing making it easier for him to enter her. He pushed. She grunted. He was inside of her. He began a slow in and out rhythm skewering her, fucking her. She stiffened; he sped up; they both shuddered to a climax but nanoseconds apart.

******

I arrived at the Marquee at ten on the dot. I was apparently the first one there. I got a table and waited for the kids. They were only ten minutes late.

"Hi daddy," said Valerie, plopping down on the chair next to mine.

"Hi dad," said Jan Michael.

"Hi kids. So what's the deal here?' I said. I was sure it had to be about their decision as to where they were going to be staying for the long haul.

"Dad, no matter what, while were sitting here we are asking you not to leave. Okay" said Valerie. I looked at my daughter and smiled.

"Of course, dear heart. Whatever you want," I said.

"Dad, we, Jan Michael and I are kinda sandbagging you this morning. We have been talking and we need to get the air clear between you, mom, and that man she's got sniffing around her. I know you hate him, and, maybe even mom too, but… "started Valerie.

"Val I do not hate your mommy. She's hurt me real bad, but I can never hate someone who was my heart and soul for so long and-gave me you guys. Him? That's another matter entirely. He is most definitely persona non grata. And, I do hate him.

"We don't like him either," said Jan Michael. Mom brought him to the house the day after you-well-you and them…"

"She did what!" I said.

"Yes, she wanted us to meet him without the yelling and stuff. Anyway that's what she said. So we met him and didn't like him. Mom did say that it wasn't your fault that she was breaking up with you. She said she blamed herself. But, that it was too late to fix things now. We, Val and me, kinda figured that one out for ourselves. The guy didn't stay long. And, he hasn't been back in the days since," said Valerie.

I was clenching and unclenching my fists. I really really hated him now and maybe her too. The kids words had really gotten me going. But, if their words had gotten me going what happened next blew the lid off the pressure cooker.

"Good morning, Zeb," said Frances. My head snapped around, and there she was, they were.

I think I was actually snorting like a bull in the plaza de toros. "What the hell!" I said.

"Dad you promised," reminded Val. I sat, but said nothing, not yet.

Everyone was quiet for some moments.

"Dad, we all need to talk. I know this is going to be hard for you and mom, but we have to do this. Maybe never again, but today we have to do this," said Jan Michael. I was alternately angry and proud of my babies. They'd put me in a spot that I couldn't see my way clear to get out of, and they'd clearly thought things through to a very deep level.

"Did they," I pointed at the two cheaters, "know I was going to be here?" I said. "Was I the only one in the dark?"

"We knew," said Frances Parker. I snorted some more; my nose was literally flaring and dripping mucous.

"So what's the point of this little sit down?" I said, wiping my nose on my sleeve. "I can tell you, him bein' here is really putting a crimp in my willingness to talk. So somebody better have a damn good reason for it," I said. Marlon to his credit shut up and just shivered. It was almost cathartic watching a guy his size squirm-I said almost. I still wanted to castrate the bastard.

"Just to clear the air," Zeb, said Frances. "The kids made their case to me, and I-we-Marlon and I agreed to try. So, here we are."

"Dad," said Valerie, "Mom and him were not making out that day. What she said was the truth. We figured it out ourselves after you left. After me and Jan Michael got a chance to talk, and also us talking with mom. We knew what she said was true.

"You lost it dad. You were in the wrong. Really bad in the wrong," said Val. I started to stand, slowly stand. Everyone could see I was all but frothing at the mouth.

"Dad, sit down," said Jan Michael. My teenaged son and my teenaged daughter literally grabbed each the other one of my arms and forcefully pushed me down in my seat. "We're not nearly done, dad."

"Dad, you lost it and you were in the wrong. But, we don't blame you. Mom is an adulteress and her boyfriend there is an adulterer. They are in the wrong there. No question," said Val.

"Zeb, if I might. Please?" said Frances, breaking in. I nodded, but my look must have carried some degree of anger, threat, hate; she started to tear up.

"We've been here before, haven't we Zeb. Me apologizing for screwing you over. But, this is the last time. I mean I will never screw you over again. I swear it, by God I swear it.

"As far as the adultery is concerned, Zeb, you've fucking gotten even with Marlon, and indirectly me too already. Please be satisfied with what you've already done. We are suffering, and you can take that to the bank.

"Also, even my dad is on your side in that. He is finally agreeing with me in the divorce thing though. He doesn't trust me not to hurt you again. So you can take comfort in that too, I suppose.

"Zeb. Don't get me wrong in what I am about to say, but today is total truth day, and it's going to hurt me more than it does you. I wronged you by marrying you. I should have married Trey, not you. Yes, he cheated on me, but hell, I've done worse to you. Neither he nor I are angels, nor were we then.

You and I Zeb, were never a good fit. I am too tall for you, I am too pretty for you, and socially and sexually you were at best a spear carrier. But, intellectually, I was never able to keep up with you. Hell, I can't even spell intellectual.

"I tried to be faithful in those early years. And, while the children were young, I did. Then, I slipped. I've been slipping ever since.

"Marlon there is as much a victim as you. I came I saw I conquered: I made him fall for me. Zeb-I have fallen in love with him. For the record, there is still a place in my heart for you too, feelings for you. And, I know, even if you deny it, that you still love me too, at least a little. So, I am asking you, please back off. Tell Mark to back off.

"Okay, now, I'll shut up," said Frances.

"My turn, said Marlon, and I will kick the shit out of anybody that tries to stop me. Got it, big boy," he said, leaning in toward me from across the table.

"Got it," I said. I actually wanted to hear him, God knows why.

"A victim am I?" he said looking toward my soon to be ex. "Well, if I am, I'm a willing victim. I do love you, Frances.

"Zeb, I'm sorry things worked out like they have. I know it's awful losing your wife like you have. But, I have to echo all of the things that she said. She does belong with someone like me, not you. Not because she is out of your league, but because you and her are in totally different ball games. You need someone who is in your league brain power-wise. Not a social butterfly like Frances. Hell the truth is-and I know you'll deny it, Frances, but it is true-that you will probably cheat on me down the line. You are just too beautiful. Men are going to hit on you and you are not strong enough to withstand their assault. The difference between you and me, Zeb, is that I can live with it if she does; and, cheerfully pay her back in kind. And, Frannie, if you do cheat on me, let it be known that I will get my own taste of strange on the side. Depend on it,. That's all I have to say," he said.

"Okay, you've all had your say. Now, if there are no objections, it's my turn," I said. I looked around the table. No one seemed ready to open their mouth. "Good."

"I'm a simple guy when it comes to family stuff. I just want a woman to love me, to cuddle with me at night, appreciate my sexual skills whatever they are. I want someone who cares about me enough to worry about me and my feelings. Frances, you clearly are not that woman. So yes, we will be divorced soon and without remorse as far as I'm concerned.

"Our children have made a good case today. Okay, I will back off and rein in Mark. But a couple of things, dear soon-to-be-ex-wife.

"Adultery is a crime as far as I'm concerned, nothing that's been said here today changes that in my view. Your man there cheated on his wife, helped you cheat on me, and he cheated on his income tax. I'm a very experienced lawyer, ladies and gentlemen. I can tell you, that because it's his first offense, and because the amounts involved don't rise to the level of big time felonies, he will likely get four years suspended when it goes to trial, and it will go to trial, depend on it.

"Also, Frances, if you have any influence on your new man there, you might want to get him to stop using." I looked him in the eyes. "Yes, Marlon baby, I know all about your cocaine use. I had intended to sandbag you and get you a room of your own at the state's expense, so consider this a break you absolutely don't deserve. I'm giving you a pass because of my children's interest in their mother's welfare and for no other reason. And trust me, you two; mess with me and you will regret it.

"And yes, Frances, you are taller than me, and you are prettier than me; so fucking what. You'll age, we all will; but my brain power, as your bud there referred to it, will not age. Kinda of a case of nature evening things out as you might say.

She'd flashed her new man a look when I'd exposed his cocaine habit. He looked back at her and mouthed a denial.

"What did you say, Marlon?" I said. "Did you just deny that you are using?"

"Yes, I deny it. Frannie it's not true," he said. I smiled. "God I love it when a witness fucks up on the stand, and this is the same kind of thing.

"Tell you what, Marlon. You either tell the truth right now to all here assembled, or I give the green light to Mark. Your choice." He sagged back in his chair.

"Okay, okay. But it's not often and I've pretty much quit using, as you so daintily put it," he said.

"It is true that you haven't used it a lot, or I would have had you nailed already," I said.

"Daddy?" said Valerie.

"Yeah, I'm done," I said.

The meeting broke up with everyone getting something out of it. On the other hand nobody got everything they wanted. It sort of ended in a kind of armed truce. These days we all get along at a very basic level, but any pretense of friendship or love or good feelings would be way overstating the reality of the situation.

I'd headed for Zoe's place right after the big confab. Our second date was still a week away, but I wasn't waiting.

It wasn't even noon. It was her day off too. I planned on trying to take advantage of her.

My welcome was more than enthusiastic.

******

Epilog:

I was sitting in my office reveling in what Zoe and I had planned for the weekend. The coast was a three hour drive and we had gotten our reservations in with the park service for a tent cabin at Refugio. I couldn't help rubbing my palms together, I was so excited. Zoe in a bikini, me in my-well-shorts, me rescuing Zoe from the scary three foot waves-her being properly grateful of course. But it couldn't last.

"Mr. Mercer, a client here to see you," said Lois.

"Send him in," I said. The door opened and she came in: Frances Skaggs, you had to love the name. I think I sighed, I'm not sure. I motioned with my hand for her to take a seat across from me.

"Hello, Zeb, how are you?" she said.

"Does it matter, Mrs. Skaggs?" God I loved calling her that.

"I hope you're well, Zeb, really," she said.

"Well, thank you. So why are you here?" I said.

"Just wanted to come by, you know, to say hello," she said.

"Okay, hello back atcha," I said. She smiled.

"I talked with then children last week. They got me to thinking."

"Okay?"

"You were right. About everything, even Marlon getting the suspended sentence. Oh, and he's off the cocaine thing; he's going to a support group once a week for the next year. I'm making him," she said.

"Okay, good for you, and him. Anything else?"

"Zeb, I've apologized six ways to Sunday about what I did to you. How I made you feel. The degrading shit I put you through. But, I never felt like I was able to make you believe that I really was-sorry I mean. I need you to believe me, Zeb. As selfish as that sounds, I need you to believe me," she said. I looked at her for a long minute.

"Why? Why is that important to you? You're free. You've got your new man. I gave you the house. I know your-man-has money enough for you. Why do you need anything from me?" I said.

"Like I said, I talked to the children last week. It, the talk, was kind of heated. They made me see just what a skunk I was. I mean when I called you short, and no good sexually, and all of that. I was a skunk, and I stunk up the place. You were always a better person than I was. Still are."

"Look, Frances, I'm gonna make it easy for you. I forgive you. Okay? I know you mean it when you say you now know what you did. I appreciate that, and I appreciate your concern. But, Frances, it's all water under the bridge now. We're apart now. And on some level that's a shame. But, you've got your new man, and well, I've got a new woman," I said.

"You have a new woman?"

"Yes. Yes, I do, and I think she may be the one. But, the jury's still out on that one. Tune in for scenes from our next episode.

"Frances, there are a couple of things I believe in. I believe in love at first sight; call me and Christopher Marlowe dreamers. I believe in telling the truth, even if what I say hurts me. I believe in telling lies if it is for the greater good or can save someone else from being hurt. And Frances, I believe in second chances.

"Frances, I'm a lawyer, but as you know my undergrad degree was Philosophy. I can reason pretty damn well. Neither you nor anyone else is going to be able to put something over on me. That said…

"I believe you were telling me the truth when you said you dumped me because I was short and worthless in bed." She started to interrupt, but I held up my hands to stop her. "I believe you are here today, because of your conversation with the children. You're here today to lie to me to save me hurt or to help me get over my hurt. And, I do appreciate that. So be at ease. It's okay. My ego is not so delicate, that you telling me I'm no good in bed, is going to have any lasting effect on me. I can deal with it, I mean the hurt. Because, like I said a minute ago. I also believe in second chances. And Frances. That goes for both of us. Be happy," I said.

"Zeb-I don't know what to say. I love you my fine man. I know we are going our separate ways now, but I will always be there for you if you ever need anything. And that, damn you, is the very definition of truth!"

We talked a bit longer. I was surprised to hear that she was pregnant. Well, lots of women in their mid-years have babies. At any rate, it was time to get on with our lives.