“This is NOT a stand alone story! There is no sex in the story. I’ve tried to make it realistic, so don’t expect Jonathan to have been a former SEAL able to visit vengeance on Susan and Rich. While I’m going for a different ending than Nici in her “Something to talk about” and “Between Two Lovers” I’ve tried to keep the characters as she wrote them. That doesn’t mean I see their actions the same way. I have the Nici’s permission to write this ending. Indeed, she’s been a wonderful help in understanding the characters involved. I’ve done my best to keep them as she created them. I have made a few minor changes, for example Joey is a girl and the location is Austin, Texas and not Denver, Colorado. If you haven’t read the story, “gird up your loins,” because it’s a heart breaker. Mine begins after Nici’s “Between Two Lovers Chapter Two.”"
** ** ** ** **
*”From Between two lovers:”*
… “Jonathan, there’s something we have to talk about,” she said again, but this time with a deep sadness, without hope.
In her hands she held a large manila envelope, which she slid over the table towards him. “I’ve filed for divorce.”* *
** ** ** ** **
Jonathan looked at the envelope, grunted, nodded, and headed back down to his lair in the basement. As he entered his room he locked the door behind him. With a sigh that was close to a sob, he sat on his bed. His shoulders slumped and his head drooped until he cradled it with his hands between his knees. He couldn’t make sense of all the emotions roiling through him. An almost impenetrable curtain of fear smothered everything. He didn’t fear the dissolution of the marriage… that had happened six months ago when she told him she’d been having a year-long affair, and it wasn’t “just sex.”
No, the fear that turned his bowels to water was how he could continue after losing his children. He’d thought his life was far better than most, like one of those paintings on the Norman Rockwell plates his mother collected. Now it seemed more like one of those pictures for kids where, when you looked carefully, you saw the outline of monsters hidden in the ordinary. Nothing resembled what he’d thought. Susan was like one of those people on TV who pull off a skin like face mask to reveal a different actor.
When Susan told him about her lover, his world had dissolved and all he could see were the monsters. Everything he’d thought he had was gone, except the kids. He’d always believed that if you worked hard, put your family above yourself and were honest and loyal you’d realize the American dream of a wife, two kids and a nice house with a white picket fence. He thought he’d had all that. Now Susan was going to take it all away.
He didn’t mind losing the house. He wanted to lose Susan, but what would his life have meant if it weren’t for the kids. They were the meaning of life. What happened to you didn’t matter; you built for the future, you built for your kids. No, being shed of Susan was would be like getting rid of a bad debt. Losing the kids would make him like a new car without an electrical system. Pretty and even potentially powerful looking on the outside, but useless.
It was when she’d told him what would happen with the kids that his blood turned to stale piss. At one point he’d thought about getting DNA tests. A drunken “friend” had suggested, “Maybe if they aren’t really your kids.” For a heartbeat he had wondered if that would make it easier. Perhaps he could stand the pain of losing them, if they weren’t “really” his. But in his gut he knew that the source of the sperm didn’t matter: they *”were”* his kids and he would do nothing that might damage them or their relationship with him. If they weren’t his, he never wanted them to go looking for their “real” father.
These last six months had been both the most painful and the most rewarding of his life. Seeing Susan, especially when she was leaving or returning from a bout with her asshole lover, was chewing him up inside rather like a turtle with a piranha trapped inside his shell. The assault on his manhood was a feather blow short of unbearable. He’d never understood the real meaning of hate, the kind of hate that lasted generations, until the last few months.
He’d also never understood the balm that spending time with his kids provided. Even though Jonathan constantly berated himself for being a wimp by allowing Susan and her lover to continue breathing, spending time with his children confirmed his core belief that a real man always put his duty to his family first.
That’s what Jonathan had always done with his marriage. He was not an articulate man; he didn’t have the pretty words that he’d come to understand were so important to Susan, words that her lawyer lover spewed like a sewer terminal. It was what a man did, not what he said, that had always been important to Jonathan. He’d practically killed himself working overtime to provide for his family. When the female attorney he’d visited told him that his overtime might make his alimony payments higher, she’d asked him to find out how long he’d been working so many hours.
Checking his pay history, he discovered that in the last six years, as far back as his boss could give him records, there were only three non-holiday weeks where he’d worked less than sixty hours. One was when he was in a car accident. The jerk had to talk on his cell phone, putting Jonathan in the hospital with two broken ribs and a deflated lung. It had hurt like hell, but he’d checked himself out “against medical advice” and had gone back to work because they were trying to close on the land to build this house, and needed the money to make the down payment.
The second time was one of the times he’d been sick. He’d usually never let a cold or flu keep him from earning a living. This time, his boss had caught him. He’d been working with a fever of around 101 for three days when his boss sent him home. He’d gotten a tongue lashing about trying to be macho and spreading flu to everyone in the shop.
The third time was when his father died. He remembered almost losing a finger that week when eye sweat blurred his vision. Still, he’d only taken off the minimum days necessary to fulfill his obligations as a son at the funeral.
Jonathan snorted as he remembered something Susan had yelled recently when she tried once again to explain her adultery. “You loved your job more than you love us. You used it to hide from your family and your duties.”
What a joke. Jonathan had never loved his job. It was hot, sweaty and dirty in the summer, and cold, sweaty and grimy in the winter. It wasn’t boring, but it wasn’t fun. There was satisfaction in doing it well, and he was very good at it, but he didn’t want to spend his free time working on cars either. It was something he did to support his family.
He knew he’d never been very good with books and school. He could have probably graduated from a third-rate college. But that sort of school, and the grades he would have made there, would never have equipped him to make the kind of money he made working in the un-air-conditioned heavy equipment shop in the sweltering heat of Austin summers. At one point he’d thought about sales. Salesmen frequently called him to use his know-how to close a sale. The salesmen made the flow of words seem so easy. Jonathan would stand there in mute admiration of their talent, and know that it was beyond him.
So, he always worked as much overtime as he could, and as a result he made more than many middle managers in the big corporations. Looking down at his hands and the hundreds of little scars that marked the gallons of blood he’d lost over the years fixing the big beasts, he sighed. No one said life was supposed to be easy, but a man did what he had to do for his family. That’s what real love was, doing what you needed to do, not what you wanted to do.
Jonathan put his head in his hands and tried to keep from being unmanned again by sweating eyes. He’d only cried that once, but tears seemed to be his body’s involuntary response to the hollow pain inside him. Unbidden, his mind once again replayed the putrid words Susan had used the night she’d destroyed his world:
“If you divorce me now Jonathan, I will be taking you to the cleaners. I will protect my children and me, first and foremost. Your welfare will not be a concern of mine. You would be paying me not only child support; you would be paying me alimony, the court costs, my car payment and this house. Not even with the amount of overtime you have been making lately would you be able to afford anything but a cardboard box to live in. You’d be sleeping in your car or at work and eating spam and macaroni and cheese for at least the next ten to twelve years.”
If that had been all there was to it, he’d have divorced her that week, but it was what she told him about losing the kids. Even the attorney he’d talked to had told him,
Jonathan had seen enough men with “joint custody” to know that it was an empty phrase. The wife would pay lip service, perhaps even mean it, but in her heart what she’d want was a complete home, with her new husband replacing her ex as the father as sure as if he’d died. No matter what the courts said or what she promised, within a few months she’d start making it harder and harder to see the kids… always for the best of reasons. It would go on until the kids believed that their father didn’t really want to be with them.
He might have trusted the Susan he thought he’d married, but the monster beneath her skin would probably do everything she could the shut him out of his children’s lives. She’d told him that her lawyer lover had broken up with her because he didn’t want to “hurt her family,” but once she was divorced she’d get him back. She was still a fine looking woman… didn’t he read someplace that Satan was beautiful too? Hell, Susan could give old Beelzebub lessons.
Jonathan sighed again, he’d done everything he could to make this insane situation work. He’d tried to make himself his number one priority, but he couldn’t. His kids’ happiness was the most important thing in his life and he’d failed there too.
His thoughts flashed back to an article in a magazine that Susan had “accidentally” left open recently. It talked about how much better and easier it was on the children if one parent died instead of losing one to a divorce. Not even realizing what he was doing, Jonathan reached under his mattress and removed the pistol he kept hidden for home protection. On auto pilot, he removed the trigger lock and put the gun into his mouth. The barrel was cold and uncomfortable on the roof of his mouth.
The metallic click of the hammer hitting an empty chamber caused such a massive startle reflex, that he was flung back on the bed. Jonathan’s brain felt like it had when he’d been in the hospital with all those pain killers. His thoughts felt slow, fuzzy somehow. It took a long time before he realized what he’d almost done. With a snort Jonathan thought, ‘I’m even a failure at killing myself.’ Someone had removed his bullets. Suddenly, his whole body began to tremble as adrenalin flooded every system. He’d almost killed himself! How could that have happened?
He’d tried to take the coward’s way out! He flashed back to the last time his father had used a belt on him. He’d run away from a schoolyard fight because he’d been afraid of getting hurt. His father had said, “A man would be a bully to go looking for a fight. He’d be stupid to stick around in an unfair fight. But not only will he be a coward to run from a fair one, but a fool as well. Listening to your fear will hurt you more in the long run than any knocks or bruises you’d get on the schoolyard. Some men never learn that lesson, some have already ruined their lives by the time they learn it. You’re going to learn it now. This is going to hurt you more than if you’d been beaten today. Next time think, count the cost, but don’t listen to your coward inside.” Jonathan had never gone looking for fights, but he also learned that if he didn’t run from them, there were fewer he had to actually fight.
Looking at the gun in his hand, he couldn’t understand why it wasn’t loaded. The gun was for defense, and what good was an unloaded gun. As he loaded it, he thought, “It might be true that kids are better off with a dead parent than a divorced parent, but not with a dead coward. If anyone’s going to take a bullet, it ought to be Susan or her boy toy! She’s the one…
Right on cue the phone rang. “Daddy? Did you forget that you promised to help me with my pitches? I tried to tell mom that I needed your help today if I was going to make the softball travel team, but she said the two of you need to talk alone. Daddy, please come get me. This is important. If I don’t make the club team this year, I’ll never be able to make the high school team.”
Jonathan’s whole body was still trembling with the after effects of the adrenalin flush. Sitting silently, a distant part of his mind wondered if his words would be as jumbled as his thoughts. Could he manage a simple “hello?”
“Daddy, this is important! I’ve been calling your cell ever since Mom dropped us off here. I guess you forgot it again. Please, if you don’t feel like coming to Grams, I’ll get her to bring me home. Please Daddy, I need you, this is soooo important.”
Jonathan’s mind was a maelstrom of discordant thoughts swirling around a core conviction ‘Someone needs to die!’ If not him then… Susan or her asshole, but somebody! Only a tiny voice wailed that his kids still needed him; no matter how minor the role he’d be allowed to play, they needed him. Murdering someone else would take him from their lives as surely as if he’d just killed himself. ‘If I’d killed myself what would have happened to the girls? What sort of example of a man would I be leaving them? What sort of man would they end up marrying?’
As he shook his head to try to clear his thoughts, something in Cindy’s tone penetrated. Was it fear? Was she in danger? His daughter was in danger! What sort of man would wallow in his own muck when his daughter needed him? The voice, now thundering in his head proclaimed, “A man took care of his family, no matter what it cost him!” That was the bedrock of Jonathan’s understanding of life. As Cindy continued to make sounds his mind slowly retreated from the brink of darkness.
Trying again to clear the chaos in his brain, he shook his head. He couldn’t remember promising Cindy to work on her softball. It sounded like something he’d do, but softball hadn’t seemed that important to her the last when they’d talked last night. Jonathan sighed again; not knowing how important a sport was to his fourteen-year-old daughter was just another sign of his incompetence as a father. Just another monument to his failure at everything that was important to him.
“Daddddddy! You’re scaring me, talk to me please! Daddy, I need you daddy, please!”
Jonathan’s eyes blinked and while his body continued to tremble and the darkness still beckoned, Cindy’s voice held him like a mountain climber’s safety line.
“I’m sorry baby, I was distracted for a second. I’ll be there to take you to softball practice in just a few minutes. What time does it start?”
“Where are you, daddy? Are you home? Have you seen Mom? Did you talk? Did she tell you?”
The questions were too fast, too strange. All his kids had gotten Susan’s brains instead of his, thank God. It made him proud, but sometimes it was hard to follow their nimble skipping from topic to topic. Unable to comprehend or deal with what she was asking he said, “I’m okay, I was just in my own little world for a bit. I’m heading for you now. I’ll be there in less than a half hour, we can talk then. You know I hate to visit on these little phones.”
** ** ** ** **
It had taken more than a half hour get himself together to drive to his daughter. During that time he figured out that Cindy knew about the divorce. He’d felt a surge of renewed anger that Susan took it upon herself to tell the kids without including him.
Thus, he was surprised when Cindy told him she’d figured out what was happening when she’d seen a “do-it-yourself-divorce-kit” in her mother’s room a few days ago. She’d been scared, but wasn’t sure Susan was going to go through with it until today, when she announced she was going leave the girls at Grams’ house for “at least the night.”
As Cindy talked, he could see the pain this mess was causing her. The pain in her eyes spawned deadly icicles in his heart. Cindy’s plea that he fight to stay in her life, were body blows to his manhood. In any sort of physical fight he knew how to protect his vulnerable parts, but he had no defense against the women in his life.
Finally Cindy had taken his face in her hands, and while looking into his eyes said, “Daddy, I know that the courts will probably give us to Mom, but there’s another way. Since she doesn’t have a lawyer, you can go to a mediator. The parent of a friend of mine at school did that and she said her parents actually get along better now than when they were married. It was so good that they still get together as a family on occasions. Please Daddy, I got the man’s name. Please will you fight for us by taking Mom on about this? Please Daddy!”
** ** ** ** **
So now, two weeks later, Jonathan found himself seated at a lush conference table with his new lawyer. The walls were covered with “trophies.” The attorney saw Jonathan eyeing them and said, “Yeah, I’ve ‘won’ some big divorce cases. They use several of my cases for moot court at UT Law School.
“The reason I have those plastered all over the walls in here is to remind both of us what can happen if the cooperative process doesn’t work. A few years ago I tried to sit down with a couple and serve as an arbitrator, but the Bar doesn’t really like that approach. The danger of my getting sued for conflict of interest is too high, so now I do “Collaborative Law.” Your wife will have to find an attorney who has experience in this process so you will both have advocates. You and your wife will have to sign an agreement never to take any of these issues to court. Then we’ll sit down at a table across from each other and we’ll hammer out an agreement that will be acceptable for both of you.
“Of course, either party can withdraw from the agreement not to go to court, but if they do, both lawyers will have to withdraw, and the party that drops out will probably be viewed with some prejudice by the court.”
Mark, a big imposing figure, leaned back in his chair, “You have a pretty good case. I know the woman attorney you talked to, but she practices in Austin, and the judges in our county are much more conservative. Also, while she’s good, her husband recently turned her in for a new model and I think she’d be better off representing only women for a while.
Even if you draw the worst judge in this county, the financial part wouldn’t be as bad as she told you. With all the kids in school, your wife probably wouldn’t get the maximum three years of spousal support Texas law allows. What’s more, she’s just flat wrong about the custody. I know at least two judges in this county who will always award full custody to the husband if the wife has committed adultery. It doesn’t matter what the other circumstances are or even what might be best for the kids. Now, if you lived in Austin it might be a bit different. Some of the judges there aren’t as concerned about adultery as are the judges in this county, but even in Austin, I can only think of one, perhaps two, that wouldn’t give adultery some ‘unofficial’ consideration when deciding custody.
“Sill, even with those judges, “what everyone knows” about how men get screwed in a settlement isn’t always true. The courts are very aware of all the new studies that show how important it is to keep the father in his kids’ lives. The studies also show that when the dad doesn’t have any physical custody, he generally doesn’t continue to be involved. If the dad wants some sort of physical custody and isn’t equally guilty of cheating, drinking, or abuse, our county courts will generally give him at least half. That also helps keep both parents physically close. Things can turn ugly when one parent moves to a different state.
The doubts and suspicions that were surfacing only seemed to add friction to our relationship and increased my feelings of guilt, so the normal effort to be close in our relationship didn”t seem to be improving. Over the next week at work, my thoughts were interrupted often by memories of the two wild nights of sex in our hotel rooms, but I tried to push all recollection of that aside and out of my mind, and when I was at home so Jerry he and I both worked harder on our relationship. Maybe that says a lot, marriage was getting to be more and more like “hard work”.
I tried to avoid Brian because I was so uncertain about my ability to resist him if he came onto me; then I started to wonder why he hadn”t, and eventually I couldn”t stop hoping he would. “Let”s go to lunch.” He said, late in the week as he approached me from behind in the hallway. He took hold of my arm and then spoke the words close to my ear so I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. I shivered under his touch while my nipples sprang to life.
His words weren”t a suggestion, or a command; they were a reference to a state of being, something factual, and something that was going to happen and I knew a lot more than lunch would take place as well. My pulse raced and my flesh shivered as we walked out together to his SUV. As we drove out of the city, he looked at my legs, not at me, and I remembered his fantasy about being invisible. I knew I was supposed to undress and started without being told to. The first thing I did was pull my skirt up so I could take off my panties. I dropped those in his lap as if they were a deposit on me, and then proceeded to take off every stitch of clothing I had on.
Everything went into the back seat, out of sight, out of mind. With me already naked he pulled off the freeway into a deserted rest stop, then he moved his seat all the way back and reclined it. His pants were already open and he pushed them and his underwear down to free his lust-hardened cock. The raging purple monster I remembered stood straight up looking like it was already to shoot cum. I moved over it and licked at the head, shiny from his pre-cum, then I opened my mouth as wide as possible to slide it over the angry end.
He was too large to take much inside my mouth but I did my best as I moved up and down to make him cum. When he started to rise up to meet my strokes I started to back away, but he held himself in my mouth and forced as much of his meat into my throat as possible until I felt him jerk and shoot a large load of sperm into the back of my throat. I choked on the fluid that ran into my tummy and coughed as I struggled for breath. My alarm dissipated as I pulled back and pleasantly thought how this nasty fluid wasn”t too bad after all.
I had already become desperate to feel his prick slamming into me again before he even took my arm, so I scrambled to climb on top of him since his meat was still hard. I slid the shiny head of his organ up and down my slit to make it slippery and then settled my weight on top of him and let his rigid pole fill me up. Shit, how I had wanted this, I thought as I moved up and down the slick shaft in a steady, needy pace to make him fill me up again. As we became wild with lust, the car rocked wildly and we fucked hard for a good five minutes until I could read the signs of his approaching climax. I had become a wild woman as I tried my best to fuck him to death, until he pumped jet after jet of potent cum deep inside my womb.
As we both cooled down and I lifted the long way off of him I said, “Shit Brian, we can”t go on like this. We”re going to get busted and screw everything up big time.”
“I know.” He said. “But I just couldn”t help it. I can”t get you out of my mind. You”re so absolutely wild to fuck, I couldn”t resist any longer.”
“You and your fucking cock are the only things I”ve been able to think about the last two days.” I said.
“Why has it been only the last two days?” Brian asked in a light and satisfied mood.
“Because I”m trying to work things out with Jerry and get on a better footing at home. But it seems like he”s getting more up-tight every day.” I said. “I don”t know if suspects something, he asks a lot of questions. It”s just getting hard for either of us to approach the other.”
Brian became more serious as he tried to show concern, and suggested that Jerry might feel like my work life was competing against our personal life. The same thing had happened with his wife a couple of years earlier. His work world in general had become her biggest competition. She had no involvement in it at all, and he couldn”t make things improve until he brought her more into his work circle.
He asked if we were planning to attend the company picnic on Saturday. I told him we had talked about it but hadn”t made up our mind for sure. He was positive that we needed to come, and furthermore we should try to somehow get together there or share a ride to it at least. After all, the site was almost 40 miles away, so car-pooling was practical. And with him working things out with his wife and knowing what I was going through he thought the time spent together in the drive would help us all get more in sync. Spending some time together might make us all feel more comfortable, take the edge off so to speak. I was uncertain as we dressed and drove back to work, but he was determined.
On Saturday morning he called and talked to Jerry. Jerry was still non-committal, but Brian said he would be by to pick us both up at 2:30, and that fun and good food were guaranteed. When he arrived, Jerry had been working on his Saturday to do list slowly thinking maybe he would get out of the picnic with so many things left to do. Brian wouldn”t hear of it though, and I begged him to freshen up so we could go. Reluctantly Jerry finally agreed and uncertainly left the room to take a quick shower.
That”s when Brian was all over me, or I should say under my dress. He pulled my panties down and off and had me already under his sexual spell when Jerry came back into the upper hallway to ask me a question. I was leaning against the archway jamb so it wasn”t hard to lean into the lower hallway so I could see and talk with Jerry. I must have closed my eyes in lust as Brian thrust three wiggling fingers into me from behind. That may have raised the alarm, but as I walked around the house later thinking about what had happened next, I saw that Jerry would have had a clear view of what Brian was doing through the mirrored back of the curio cabinet that was slightly behind where we were.
Jerry was able to see the reflection of my naked open pussy and Brian”s busy fingers buried deep inside it. He almost killed Brian as he threw him form the house, and told me that I would be sleeping at the Fairfield Inn that night, before he left the house in a quiet, angry rage. I”ve actually been at the Fairfield for almost a week now. Jerry refuses to talk to me for more than one or two sentences at a time. He has already mentioned divorce three times and when I tell him this was a one-time mistake and the only time it has ever happened, he refuses to listen.
Jerry knows that what he saw had to have a deep history, but I really don”t know how much he knows and how much he suspects. I know that things haven”t been smooth between us for over a year, but I still don”t want to loose him. I know I”ve been foolish, and selfish, and I know that many of the readers on this site have already written me off as a cheating slut that has violated every vow of love and fidelity that bound us together in marriage. You”re not calling me anything I haven”t already called myself.
I have no excuse, I have no explanation, and I probably don”t deserve another chance. To be honest, right now I also lack confidence in myself and in my ability to control my urges and passion, and I don”t want to hurt Jerry, but I would do anything I could to have the chance to make it all right again. Believe it or not, I am humble and repentant and willing to pay any price required so I can feel good about myself again. I”m terribly afraid, that might not be good enough however, and I don”t know if Jerry will ever really talk to me again.
All day long I was suspicious and my mind raced with possible scenarios of what might be happening. That night I called her room at about 9:00pm. There was a two hour delay in time zones so it would be 11:00 on her end; certainly the time she should be snuggled into her bed for a full night’s rest. She answered after several rings, but seemed a little out of breath, as though she had to race to the phone. When she explained she was drying her hair off, that seemed reasonable, but then I could also hear other noise in the background, noises that made it sound like she wasn’t alone.
She explained that the TV was on, and that’s what I could hear. The sounds included music so she could have been telling the truth, but when I asked her to turn it down, she ignored me. I could hear a male voice, and her ability to concentrate on our conversation was certainly being effected by something, or by someone. The rhythm of her speaking was broken like she was still drying her hair vigorously after too many minutes, then almost in desperation she said someone from room service of all people at that hour was at her door and that she would have to call me back later.
I didn’t want her to hang up, I thought something was going on and I wanted to find out more. I heard loud clatter of plastic objects colliding and then a thud…but the phone was not hung up. I could still hear sounds, voices, even wailing or possibly impassioned moaning. If the TV was on, then she was watching an adult pay per view porn movie. The sounds of sex were unmistakable, and my heart sank in a heap when I heard a distinct male voice announce that he was going to fuck her like she had never been fucked before.
I had purchased a recording device to listen in on phone calls on our home phone several weeks earlier, when my suspicions had started driving me crazy, and I had prepared ahead of time that night by connecting it to the phone, just in case. I could hear a woman scream out in lust as she begged her man to put it all the way in. “God it feels so good, oh shit yes, fuck me you son of a bitch.” She screamed in lust.
“Does your husband’s cock make you feel like this?” He asked. “Can he fill up your tight pussy with his cock, like I do Lynn?” There! He said her name, there’s no way she could slough this off to a TV movie; coincidence was unacceptable.
“No,” she said too quickly, and too emphatically. “He doesn’t come close, god I love your beautiful cock Brian. Please fuck me, fuck me to death with it you horny bastard.”
I don’t know where my heart was, Lynette’s words had ripped it out of me and I wasn’t sure right then if I could ever get it back. I laid the handset of the phone onto our bed, and slowly stood, and walked out of our room numbly. Somehow, I ended up down the stairs and out the door without ever having moved my feet I thought. I stood outside in the brisk night air trying to come to grips with what I had witnessed by phone and for the first time the word divorce crossed my mind. It’s funny, after spending so much time worrying over how we were going to get a family; I finally felt relief over all the things in our struggles that had been counted as failures only moments before.
Sometime later I went back in and eventually ended up in the bedroom again. I noticed the phone still lying on the bed. About 45 minutes had passed since I laid it down, and I wondered if they had realized it had not been hung up on their end yet. I picked it up again and brought it to my ear “…at’s it push it in my ass. Oh your sooooo big Brian, I didn’t think I could take it that way.” I heard Lynn say.
“Your ass is even more gorgeous with my cock shoved up it baby.” Brian’s voice boomed.
Then there was frenzied pounding as I listened to the frame of the bed beating against the hotel room wall. Along with the noise of inanimate objects colliding, there were the sounds of sexual gluttony from my wife and Brian. The rhythm of the noise increased in intensity and I heard both of them cursing loudly as they approached orgasm together. Lynn sounded desperate as she screamed at Brian to stop. “Don’t cum in my ass.” She said. “Don’t cum yet! Put it back in my pussy and cum in me there. I feel so dirty when you do and I might finally get pregnant.”
I actually heard the sound of his slick cock popping out of her tight brown hole and then she squealed in glee as he fed it back into her ready cunt. “God Brian, how did you ever get such a beautiful cock? It fills me up so much, and you fuck me so good with it. Your wife must die for it.” The frenzy increased again and soon Brian was grunting as he pumped my wife full of his adulterous cum. I could tell he was cumming because he was grunting in a strained voice every time he shot another stream. Finally emptied, he pulled out and ordered Lynn to turn around and get her mouth on his slimy shaft to clean it up.
She didn’t sound reluctant as she moaned in lust while she quickly gobbled him up. Here I had witnessed by telephone her enthusiasm at things I used to consider perverse. It didn’t matter that I had had become curious about oral sex myself and had even tried to imagine what it would feel like. In this context, it repulsed me and only added to my anger and the sense of betrayal. I resolved right then and there to make sure the ugliness I felt inside somehow went away.
I set the handset back on its base, and removed the taping device. I wasn’t curious about all I had missed, I was sure it was just more of the same, and wasn’t sure if I wanted to learn any more about Lynette’s elevated opinion of Brian’s assets, or her disparaging opinion about my own. Lynn called back the next morning and I was cold and terse enough in my conversation to make her ask if I was alright. “As good as possible, under the circumstances,” I said, and when she asked what I meant, I told her that I was lonely and looking forward to her return.
She said she missed me too, and that she would make it up to me when she got back that night. We hung up without a lot of warmth, and I spent the day talking to a few friends and trying to find a good divorce attorney. When she got home, she acted sweet and affectionate and I tried to pretend to be anxious to see her again. At bed time, we had plain sex for the first time in our marriage; before then we had made love. I felt angry pushing my cock into a cunt that had been occupied by someone else not that many hours before, and I got myself off without care or concern for her in any way.
It was angry sex, and it frightened and confused Lynette, but it gave me partial release of the pent up emotion and rage that had built up and that I had stored inside. For the next several days things were icy again between us, until the end of the week and the day that had been marked on our calendar for her company picnic. I didn’t want to go, and at fist Lynette seemed willing to not push the issue, then the night before the picnic she really put on a campaign to talk me into it.
Picnic day was Saturday and I exaggerated how important it was for me to use the time to catch up on yard work that had built up. Lynn didn’t let up all day, and I was getting more and more stubborn against going.
Early in the day, her work associate Brian Reynolds had called to help convince me to go, and the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that this had to be the same Brian she had been with in Orlando. He insisted on picking us up so we could ride with him and his wife, and by the time he arrived I was terse, impatient and plain upset at the conspiracy to get me to go. Lynette insisted that I come in to get ready at about the same time Brian rang the front door bell.
I got inside as she was showing him the front room and met the two of them in the entry. She introduced him again, I think I had met him before but really couldn’t recall. The greeting I gave him was cool as I regarded him with suspicion and then Lynette urged me toward the bedroom upstairs as they moved into the dining area off the bottom of the stairs. I was trying to drag things along slowly and asked Lynn a question from the upstairs hallway. That’s when I witnessed the sex play Brian had started as soon as I started up the stairs. When I saw the reflection of him in the curio mirror, fingering her pussy daringly to flaunt his sexual power over her I flipped.
Operating on pure rage, I raced down the stairs and grabbed his shirt beneath his neck with one hand and his full head of hair with the other. I pulled him up and threw him back with such force he ended up in a heap on the other side of the room. I picked him up again and even though he was larger than me, he hardly touched the ground as I forced him back through the dining room, through the entry and threw them into the door frame so hard the wood splintered as it gave way and his body passed though the opening, off the porch and into the yard. His body lay motionless on the ground and I didn’t care if he was alive or dead. I went to his van, found his registration an took it with me.
By the time I got to my car in the garage, after I had assaulted and almost killed him, I had to sit for a moment to gather control before I went out and killed myself or someone else on the road. Even though my ego was wounded and I should have been feeling incredible pain, the anger that had built up from knowing too much and still not enough about my wife’s infidelity dominated all of my emotion. When I felt I had at least minimal control over myself, I backed out and slowly drove down the road trying to twist the padded covering off of the steering wheel with my angry grip.
I checked to see if the extra copy I made of the phone tape was still in the glove box; with the tape in hand I drove straight to the Reynolds home. Mrs. Reynolds name was Elizabeth and I wondered only briefly if I was doing the right thing as I waited at the door for her to answer. Liz was a nice looking woman about my age and only a little heavier than Lynette. She had a puzzled look on her face when I introduced myself and I apologized for having to deliver disturbing news. She gasped, thinking I was here to tell her that Brian had been in an accident, and then standing there on the porch I simply explained that her husband and my wife were having an affair. She stood silently, maybe in shock, and said nothing; then I placed the copy of the tape and one of my business cards in her hand and told her to call me if she had any questions.
After I made my delivery, I drove into the foothills close by and parked as I listened to soft moody music from the car stereo. The music was romantic and melancholy and soon I was slipping into depression as I reviewed all of the good that I thought was coming to an end, things that had been important to me, and that were being thrown away carelessly by Lynette. I was still angry, but also hungry and tired by the time the sun set. I had never cleaned up from my work in the yard earlier, and I didn’t like the idea of going somewhere to eat alone. Even at a fast food joint, I would feel conspicuous under the circumstances.
I became angry as I realized Lynn’s choices had taken away even the simplest pleasures from my own life, and eventually I grabbed a hamburger at a drive through and forced it unpleasantly down. When I got back to the house, it was dark, and I hoped Lynette had left. Her car was gone from the garage, and I breathed a sigh of relief that hid the regret and profound loneliness I felt. The phone rang and I answered without thinking. It was Lynette at the Fairfield Inn; as soon as she heard my voice she begged me to hear her out and give her a chance to explain Brian’s reckless advance, as though this were the first time he had become aggressive like this. I didn’t giver her a chance and hung up the phone, then I picked up the receiver again, listened for the dial tone, and disconnected the handset so I wouldn’t be disturbed by the loud wailing tone of a phone off hook.
On Sunday, I went to church alone and then found a shopping mall with a theater and went to a matinee. I stayed in the movie theater until 10:30 that night and sat through I don’t know how many movies that I didn’t watch, just to be alone in the dark. On Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday I went to work as usual and refused to take any calls from Lynette. On Thursday I talked to her only long enough to let her know that we would talk eventually, when I felt ready, and that was all. I had changed the locks on all the doors and wouldn’t open up for anyone at all.
I also put in a call to our joint credit cards and reported them all stolen and transferred funds from joint bank accounts to ones opened only in my name. Saturday morning at about 10:00 am, I was considering the yard work that needed to done even more when Lynette rang the front doorbell. I had already decided it was time to talk, and knew it was her. After making her wait for several minutes, so I knew she would be self conscious about being observed by neighbors I unlocked the door and went into the formal living room to wait.
Lynn opened the door cautiously and slipped almost like a thief into the entry. She came into the room silently and sat quietly in a chair opposite form me. I looked past her into the yard until she found her voice and spoke. “What’s going to happen Jerry,” Is all she asked.
“I’m not sure Lynette.” I said. “It seems you’re the only one who really knows all you’ve got going on, so it might be better to ask what you thought was going to happen.”
“I don’t know how to explain what you saw Brian doing.” Lynn said. She seemed to still be trying to make me believe that this was all that had ever happened.
“Are you saying that this was the only time your work buddy got into your panties Lynette, or got you out of them?”
Her flesh became pale as she twisted her fingers anxiously and averted her eyes from mine. “Jerry, I don’t know what you know or believe I’ve done, and I don’t know how to explain the mistakes I’ve made. The only thing I can tell you is that I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I got trapped by my own carelessness, but the last thing I ever wanted to happen was to hurt you.”
“Why don’t you tell me what mistakes you made, and what has happened Lynn?” I said, actually trying to make sure I sounded calm, and honestly concerned.
“Jerry,” she said, trying to collect words to express the things she held deep inside. “Over the past several months, I have reacted poorly to the depression and discouragement I felt over not getting pregnant. I became selfish and slipped back into some old habits I had in college before we started dating. I don’t know how to tell you this…I used to act badly in school, letting boys see me…well I tried to let boys see me partly undressed or naked. I used to take my clothes off in front of my open dorm window and let guys look at me naked. Lately I’ve been undressing in front of windows when I traveled or even in my car so people could see me. Brian saw me one day when I was on my way home, and things have gotten out of control as a result.”
“You’re telling me that you’re an exhibitionist Lynette. And that’s all?”
“I’m sorry Jerry.” She said. “When you say it so…well so clinically, it almost seems less threatening, but more sick, like it’s a mental illness. Maybe it is to a degree, but that’s not the point. I’ve made some terrible mistakes but I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’ll never do anything to hurt you again if you only forgive me and give me a chance to make it up to you.”
“Are you saying that it never went any further than having Brian’s fingers in your pussy Lynette?” I said looking deep into her eyes for her version of the ‘whole truth’ and wondering why she wouldn’t realize how critical it was to be completely truthful.
“Oh Jerry, please, you must know how hard this is for me to admit this.” Tears and been falling from her eyes and leaving wet track marks on her cheeks. “I would never do anything to betray the trust you have in me. I only want this terrible nightmare to end so I can come back home and we can put this all behind us.”
I reached over and pushed the play button on the tape recorder. I had plugged audio jacks into the surround sound and the familiar sounds and voices from the hotel phone filled the room. I watched as all the color drained from her skin and she trembled at the sounds and words that shattered the illusions she had tried to paint. I stood and left the room as her shaking sobs built to full fledged crying.
Not long after, I heard the front door open and close, and she was gone. I felt anything but victorious, the only feeling that flooded over me was sorrow and pain for what was still being torn stubbornly from deep inside me. On Sunday, I was approached by one of the clergy of our church and asked to visit with representatives of the membership committee. The committee asked me point blank what was happening between me and my wife. I was elusive and suggested that the problems were known only by Lynn, and they would have to ask her.
I understand that later that night, Lynette was summoned before a council and had apparently confessed all her transgressions. She still had not admitted to me all that she had done but apparently she had said enough that night to those in the council, that she was excommunicated from our church. A punishment handed out only for the most egregious transgressions.
Excommunication in our church wasn’t a form of vindictive authoritarian punishment, it was supposed to be part of a healing process that brought a person back to ground zero so to speak, and gave them a chance to start over from scratch, but in a close knit community like ours, where most of the neighbors belonged to the same church it also placed a bright spotlight on the guilty person, and anyone closely related to them that made all involved in any way feel self conscious of every whispered comment around them. It was hardest on Lynn, and I couldn’t help being proud of the way she seemed to face up to her responsibility for what had happened even if she still hadn’t admitted everything to me.
I was actually concerned about her spirit and attitude, and in spite of the pain I had felt, I wanted to help and support her in this process. The next time she came to the house, she was somber and subdued like she was on Saturday, but humble and repentant as well. After we had exchanged formal pleasantries, she looked at me and said. “Jerry, I’m sorry you had to listen to the terrible things I said and did in that hotel room, and I can’t justify it in any way. I don’t expect you to forget or even let me make it up to you, but I would do anything to make things right again, and show you how much I still love you, even if you cant believe me.”
The flood of tears prevented her from saying more, and I was filled with compassion in spite of everything that had happened. After a long emotion filled pause I said, “Lynette, I think you should move back into the house…but it’s not time for us to be together again, you can stay in the guest bedroom, or I will for that matter, then we’ll see how things go on a day to day basis.
I knew that when anyone was excommunicated from our church, the first real challenge didn’t usually for several few days. Some people actually felt instant resentment and turned cold to everyone around immediately, but mostly a person felt humbled and contrite and easily made promises to themselves and everyone else involved; several days later when depression or embarrassment took over, a period followed when either the person found the strength to rise above the errors and their former self and became strong, or they surrendered to doubt and self abuse and became even more immersed in the quagmire of behavior and self abuse that led them to that point in the first place. Time would tell over the next few weeks what course Lynn would take.
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Jerry had come to grips with his own needs, and with his willingness to make the hard decisions he knew he might have to make in order to go on with his life in a positive productive direction. He wasn’t at all sure if he and Lynette would resolve the problems he felt she had brought into their lives, and at the same time, he had not firmly set his mind on going through with the divorce process he had already laid the ground work for. It all depended on Lynette initially.
What she had done, and essentially who she had become was no longer acceptable to Jerry for his lifelong companion. She would have to change, change so deeply and fundamentally that she could never jeopardize their mutual happiness again. How on earth could she do that, furthermore if she did change, how on earth could she ever rebuild the trust she broke with Jerry? That might be just too much to ask for either of them.
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After Jerry told me I should move back in I felt hope for the first time since I had to face the terrible truth about what I had done to both our lives.
When church leaders contacted me and told me to meet with them that Sunday evening, I was sure they already knew what I had done. Nothing could be any worse than what I had felt when I listened to my own voice and the sounds of sex on the recording Jerry had made of my lust crazed adultery with Brian Reynolds. I already felt lower, and more worthless than I had ever thought possible.
As I sat in the presence of church leaders that were genuinely concerned about my well being as well as Jerry’s, I tearfully confessed all that I had done. When they considered everything, the person I was, the commitments I had made and then violated, and everything that was needed to help me get beyond the negative self punishment I had already imposed on myself; it was understandable that they would see the need to excommunicate me from the church.
Part of their objective in this formal separation was to help free me of the burden of starting a journey with dirty laundry and broken luggage. I would have to get beyond the negative influence of overwhelming guilt that I had already embraced. Ultimately I couldn’t do that without forgiving my self and starting from ‘ground zero’; I thought that would even be harder than getting Jerry to forgive me, but I was wrong.
I didn’t expect things to get back to anything normal at home for some time. Jerry offered me the master bedroom, but I declined and said I would be fine in the guest room instead. We ate evening meals, and occasionally watched a sitcom together. I felt incredibly uncomfortable when a situation came up in an episode that was sexually suggestive. That’s not uncommon in today’s sitcoms, and the discomfort brought the intensity of guilt roaring back to the surface.
It was easier to just slip away and read by myself. The longer our relationship was strained, the more frustrating everything else in both our lives became as well. I’m afraid the incredible effort that was needed to rebuild communications was too hard for both of us, maybe that was because communications between us before all this happened wasn’t really good anyway. Without constructive dialogue, neither of us got or gave the supportive encouragement that was needed to grow together. Eventually we seemed to slip into a dullness that masked the uncomfortable issues we couldn’t resolve.
In spite of the repulsion I had felt for a long time to sexual feelings and needs, the incredible impressions that are inseparable with sexual activity were still imbedded deeply in both of us, and they were being smothered and pressurized because we closed down the outlet. I confess that this was probably more a problem with me than Jerry. Not only was I at my natural peak for sexual interest, according to age, my most recent impressions had been blown out of proportion through the supercharger of infidelity. Face it, illicit sex seems much more powerful and consuming than romantic chaste copulation.
The memories of intense forbidden lust were creeping into my head through the locks I had tried to set in place. Jerry’s remote emotional self only added to frustration, guilt and unfulfilled need that had become a vicious self perpetuating circle. Somehow romance needed to come back into our life if we were to have any chance at all.
The only positive benefit to all the travel that had been part of our problem in the first place was the frequent flyer mileage and connections I had made in the different cities I traveled to. Disney World had become an attractive venue for couples to celebrate anniversaries and spend romantic time together. In one of the hotels I had stayed, I met people who appreciated the business our company provided, and they offered me a free suite for four nights if I wanted. With miles to cover tickets and the warmth of a friendly invitation for the suite, it seemed like it might be a good idea to get away from everything for a few days where we could spend some quality time face to face.
Jerry agreed and we made arrangements for the earliest opening. I was excited and even nervous, because I hoped intimacy might finally come back into the equation and change the direction of our drifting lives. Everything seemed to be going perfect until we arrived at the hotel. We both knew what was supposed to happen, and forced the issue of intimacy unnaturally. Feeling Jerry’s cock in me again should have been the greatest thing in my life, but it was not. Jerry was distracted, edgy and uncomfortable, mostly he just wasn’t there.
I dismissed it to nerves and was happy at least for the effort. I tried again to get us back to romance, and the bedroom, and the more I did, the worse it made things. When I dressed in my sexiest lingerie to get him excited, he stiffened up in the wrong ways.
The worst thing that went wrong was when I got bold. We had been playing around a little, petting on the bed when I made the mistake of trying to really turn him on. We were already naked, but his cock was still not fully responding. I was stroking his semi firm penis while we French kissed passionately. Then I started to nibble my way down his body, nipping at his skin and kissing it as I worked toward his cock. When I saw it jump a little, I thought I was on the right track and continued.
I teased his pubic growth with my hot breath and ran my tongue along the length of his shaft. I kissed the purple head allowing it partly into my mouth as I made love to his beautiful organ. I had never thought Brian’s cock was superior or that Jerry’s was not. Brian was simply interested, he showed his need and passion and he demonstrated his enthusiasm for sex and interest in my body. It was the attitude that had captured my lusty imagination. All I wanted to do now was show the same kind of interest and enthusiasm for Jerry’s beautiful and very equal cock. When I took his member into my mouth, I wanted to possess it and him with me, my whole heart and all of my lusty emotion, and there was nothing on this earth I wanted any more.
As I loved him I felt him come alive in my mouth and as he did, I came more alive as well. My passion quickly soared and I was seriously overcome with the need to give everything I could to this man who was still the love of my life in spite of the walls of hurt that were marshaled between us. I wasn’t an expert at oral sex, but I thought I felt in sync with his need and capable of bringing us both to orgasm. I was driven to anticipate every dream and expectation he could possess and thought his climax would coincide with my own.
All of a sudden the hands that had held the sides of my head gently as he urged me on grabbed my hair and pulled me off of his inflamed rod with such ferocity I thought he would tear out two large handfuls of hair in his hands. He literally threw me off of him and I crashed to the floor off the edge of the coffee table and ended up against the couch. I was stunned and hurt, more than that, I was confused. What in the hell was happening.
My back and hip would be bruised, and blood was on my fingertips as I rubbed the sore roots to soothe the pain. I struggled to my feet, feeling pain in several areas already and looked at Jerry as I begged for some explanation of what terrible mistake I had made. Jerry said nothing; he went into the bathroom and stayed there for fifteen minutes; I thought it best to get back into my clothes.
When he finally came back, he quickly dressed and quietly told me that we needed to go to dinner. I was afraid to ask what happened again, until later on, and when I did he apologized and simply said he didn’t know what came over him. He promised me it would never happen again; I wasn’t sure that response offered much help. It was obvious that something had happened in that intimacy that disturbed him allot. I remembered his reaction to my questions about oral sex early in our marriage and wondered if this incident was an indication that my promiscuity had brought us to a point of sexual incompatibility.
I was disturbed over a new feeling of inadequacy and hopelessness. I felt totally insecure about my ability to sexually inspire and excite Jerry. If sexual intimacy was no longer a possible key to our emotional closeness, I had serious doubts about our ability to understand and respond to one another in any way. I realized we might not be able to become an understanding and caring couple again, let alone build a relationship that would provide intimacy and sexual excitement. After having felt such intensity in sex while cheating on my husband I faced the terrible possibility that I would never experience sexual excitement again.
Throughout the remainder of that night and most of the next day the tension between us built to painful, almost unbearable levels. Just before dinner, Jerry admitted that it was a mistake to go to Orlando. Everywhere we had gone, everything I had done caused him to imagine me doing those things with Brian. This was the city we were in during the infamous recorded call. Jerry couldn’t stop himself from seeing Brian’s hand in everything that we were doing together. He became upset during my efforts in oral sex, because he couldn’t get the image of me sucking on Brian’s cock out of his head.
The more I tried to reason with him the more unreasonable he and everything else became. We were both hurt and angry and I was completely without a clue about how to deal with us. We both became even angrier early that evening, and I finally left to get away and clear my head so I could think. I went to the lobby and found it hard to keep from breaking into tears at any thought or feeling that took me back to the problems upstairs.
As I walked around not anxious to go back to the room I think I drew attention to myself. A nice looking man, maybe a little younger than me, approached and introduced himself. At first I thought he was just being nice and thoughtful, and I needed a friendly ear to listen, or an arm to lean on. He offered to buy me a drink and when I realized he was just hitting on me, the water works started up and he quickly apologized for his insincerity, and helped me find an inconspicuous seat. He was nicer than I realized after all and apologized again for being rude and assuming the worst in me.
His name was Russell Marcum and he was from Memphis on business for a few days; he thought I was trying to get picked up from the way I was hanging around lobby. When he asked why I was so upset, I sniffed back emotions and told him briefly about the misunderstanding between me and Jerry. I don’t know why, but all of a sudden I was telling him about all our troubles and even went into some of the details of our unsuccessful sex during the trip. It felt good to expose myself emotionally to this stranger, and I even found myself strangely excited when I told him about the rebuffed oral sex.
Russ said he was amazed that any man could refuse someone as sexy as me anything. It had been so long since anyone had suggested I was sexy that the words made me tingle. I felt my pussy getting wet and leaking into the tiny crotch of the sexy panties I had worn for Jerry. When he asked me in whispered tones if my panties were wet, I just looked at him with eyes glassed over and slowly nodded. Russell placed his warm hand on my thigh, just above my knee and pushed gently outward, asking me to open my legs for him. I relaxed my muscle and let him ease my thighs apart. He continued to push until I was sure he could plainly see the red lace panties that barely covered me.
As he looked hypnotically into my eyes he started to slide his hand ever so slow and sensually under my skirt and up my trembling thigh. I wanted his fingers to move my panties aside and fuck me right there in the hotel lobby so much I almost cried with pent up lust and desire. He was only a fraction of an inch away from my tender arousal, when I blinked to consciousness and grabbed his arm to stop his ready fingers. He held firm and wouldn’t let me push him away at first, and then he proceed against my resistance. When his finger brushed along my oozing slit I lost my breath and my nipples felt as though they would explode. He could feel how totally wet I was and knew that my pussy wanted him badly, but I mustered all my strength and the determination I showed made him back finally away. I felt relieved, but it was a frustrating and painful victory. “I have to go.” I said. “I need to find my husband.”
“The only thing you need is this Lynette.” He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled it to his aroused penis. I could feel its firm length and girth through his slacks and he forced my fingers around it so I would know how large, capable and excited it was to be buried in me. I was still fighting my own need and subconsciously moved my thighs open and closed in lust. I forced myself to release my hold on his wonderful organ and said again that I had to go. Just as he started to protest, a hand appeared firmly on his shoulder and gripped tightly on the thick cord that runs from shoulder to neck. As the hand pinched the cord Russell let go and moved in defense.
“I believe she said she had to go.” Jerry said to Russ as he looked coldly into my eyes. Jerry took my hand, stood me up and marched me out of the hotel to the courtyard. “What the hell is going on Lynette?” He asked. You were almost ready to fuck that guy right there in the lobby.”
“I was trying to get away.” I said truthfully. “I told him I had to find my husband Jerry.” I was trying to get back to you.”
“Eventually,” he said with sarcasm. “Shit Lynn, he almost had your panties off before you chickened out. I guess I was right all along about all of the things I’ve felt since coming here. You’re a slut Lynette.” He hissed. “And nothing’s ever going to change that. I should have known things would never work out between us after you sucked Brian’s slimy prick. I’ll see you back home, and we’ll settle up.” Then he was gone. I watched Jerry walk back into the lobby and approach the concierge. Together they walked out the entrance and the Bell Boy loaded Jerry’s bags into a taxi’s trunk while my husband got in the cab and left me.
Jerry had already made up his mind and packed before he came downstairs and found me with Russell. Our marriage was over, and I was left on my own. I wasn’t in the mood to be fucked by anyone anymore, I just wanted to leave this city as well, but I couldn’t bear the thought of feeling humiliated on the same flight as Jerry, so I asked the hotel to arrange my departure on the earliest flight possible the next day and went back to ‘our’ room to try and sleep.
Jerry and I met at the house and he had already prepared an asset sheet so we could divide our lives. I ended up with the house, and furnishings, but I had the mortgage as well. We didn’t have a lot of capital assets to fight over, but then neither of us was in a fighting mood anyway. Jerry had the divorce papers with him, I smiled a little when I noticed they were dated a month before. I wasn’t really surprised. When Jerry left, I had given him everything he wanted in the divorce, including the last shreds of my self esteem.
As more time passed, I became deeply depressed again. Jerry had called me a slut, and I knew that I was. I was also becoming more cynical and suspicious of everything around me. It’s almost amusing as I look back now, because it ended up that the only real regret of the failed Orlando reconciliation was the fact that I didn’t let Russell fuck the shit out of there in the hotel lobby for everyone to see. On the day the final divorce decree was served, I went off the deep end.
I went to a trendy hotel, near the international airport, that had a popular lounge, and although I didn’t drink, I went in and took a conspicuous seat at the bar. When the bartender asked what I wanted, I tried to act cool, and said, “Surprise me.” I have no idea what drink he brought, and I only sipped at it cautiously to acquaint myself with the taste. My real objective had nothing to do with liquor, I was going to get fucked silly, and consequences be damned. I already had a full helping of consequence; now I was ready for a giant helping of cause.
I scanned the lounge for possibilities and then when it became obvious I was still a little early, I decided to sit at a remote table and wait for the meat to show. Not long after, men started to arrive in small groups with occasional singles thrown in for spice. There was a small dance floor, and a few people were already using it. I had dressed sexy so it didn’t take long before interested men started to ask me to dance.
On the dance floor I threw my self at the men like I was a slut and several thought I was already drunk on alcohol. Two younger men in their early to mid 20s came in together, and started to pay attention. We started to dance and seemed to forget all the others as we played sexy games on and off the floor. Andy was a fresh looking blond with a tapered lean and chiseled body; he looked like the typical California surfer, and was full of mischievous energy. Marc or Marcus was about 6′-4″ and looked like a professional basketball player. His body was firm, well muscled, and forbidden, he was black as coal. Both of them reminded me of everything girls were afraid to touch but dying to intimately feel. Both of them were sexually dangerous, and just what I wanted.
It didn’t take long before they started working on me to get me to go with them to one of their rooms. I teased and played along as we rubbed against each other suggestively; dry fucking on the dance floor. “C’mon Lynn,” Andy said. ‘You know you’re ready to ride this pole.” He had brought my hand to his package and I had already been fondling it to a full hard-on for five minutes. They both had played with my full firm ass cheeks and had slipped their fingers beneath my panties to feel my wetness.
I pulled his upper body down as I stood on my tiptoes and brought my mouth to his ear. “Before we go to your room, I want you to take my panties off while we’re dancing so you can give them to Marcus.” When I moved back, he held me at arms length for a moment as he studied my face to see if I was pulling his leg. I looked at him lustily and ran my tongue over my full painted lips to let him know I was absolutely serious.
Andy pulled me into a passionate embrace and immediately slipped his hands under the short hem of my sexy skirt and slid them up to maul my ass. Then he took hold of my lace panties by the waist and pushed them down until they fell loosely to my feet. I reached up with both arms and wrapped them tightly around his neck so my skirt was pulled up almost high enough to show my naked rear, and continued to dance with my lace panties dangling around my feet. When the music stopped, he knelt down and acted like the prince with the glass slipper as he picked up one foot and then the other so he could finish slipping my panties all the way off.
When we left the dance floor he held his hand out to Marc with a shitty grin covering his face. “Here you go man, your turn.” He said.
Marc took me to the floor quickly, and even though the music had a little faster tempo, he ignored the beat and made me tell him what happened. We danced sensually to our own music as his hands freely roamed over my body. When I thrilled at his touch while he played with my ass I strained to get close to his ear as well. “Pull my dress way up Marcus.” I said. “I want everyone to see your fucking hands all over my ass.” In no time at all, I could feel my naked exposure all the way up to the middle of my back, and he pinched my skirt against me and held it high with his forearms while her roamed my ass freely for everyone who wanted to see.
We all thought it best to get out of there before we got arrested, besides, I needed to feel both of their cocks fucking me senseless, and they knew it. As soon as we got into the elevator they stripped my dress off and fingered me to orgasm as we climbed. They left my lacy bra on because it looked so sexy, and I somehow it made me feel even more exposed as we walked down the hallway playing grab ass on the way to the room. We passed at least one couple and a single guy in the halls, and Marc stopped us so he could offer the guy a feel of anything he wanted before we went on.
I felt completely free walking naked down the corridor between two men that excited me. I had felt their cocks through their pants in the lounge, but wanted the real thing as I pulled Marc’s zipper down and pulled his large black cock into the open. He was already fully erect and completely aroused and as I started to slide my hand up and down his shaft. He grew impatient and lifted me up with my back pinned to the wall; we were both driven by lust as I took hold of this fat cock that I couldn’t get my fingers all the way around and positioned it at the opening of my vagina. He lowered my body as I wiggled onto his shaft; I was so wet with arousal that in spite of his considerable girth, my body slid easily down the slick shaft. Marcus fucked wildly in me for only a few minutes before he reared back his head and groaned loudly as he pumped me full of his potent spunk.
When we got to the room, little time was wasted before we all were naked and doing everything I thought a person could do to feast on pure sex. Both of my guys had incredible long thick cocks. I thought they must be here for a porn convention, and for the next seventeen hours they fucked me in every way imaginable. They took me vaginally, and fucked me in the ass. They both penetrated me at the same time and came inside me everywhere they could. I welcomed it; I didn’t care if I got pregnant, or if I got aids and died as a result of all of this, in fact I think somehow I hoped these terrible things would happen.
I was ready to go on forever, until forever came to an end, but amazingly, even though I had climax after climax until I couldn’t stand any more, I never felt filled or finished. Even though I was perpetually filled with cock, I was always empty at the same time. At the end, I felt no satisfaction, no sense of completion or fulfillment in even the tiniest measure. I felt like all of the incredible excess and gluttony had given me absolutely nothing, and as a result I was somehow even less than I was before. I numbly put on what clothes I could find to cover me and walked like a senseless robot to my car.
When I got back to the house, I couldn’t get over the pointlessness of the sex I had had, and my whole life. I really hadn’t expected anything great when I went looking for action, and from what I’ve heard, some people would have thought they died and gone to heaven to have the attention I had from two virile men with incredible stamina. We had remarkable sex by most standards, but I learned in the process that sex like that was senseless and unfulfilling for me, and I guess at this low point in my life I realized it was the very last thing I needed.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days, considering my condition, as well as my needs and options. All of the various challenges in my life begged for my attention, sex was easily put at the bottom of my list. Paying my bills seemed to be the most pressing, so I concentrated on work. I put myself on a tight budget and got some help setting things up so I could barely get by at least. I saw Brian several weeks later and wondered where he had been. He had been transferred; apparently Jerry had threatened to file a suit against the company for complicity in our divorce. It was causing a lot of problems in his life to go along with the problems in his marriage. Apparently Jerry had also given Brian’s wife a copy of the infamous tape.
I became consumed with serious career opportunities and responsibilities at work, and eventually things in my life started to improve. About a year after the official divorce decree, I was re-admitted into my church. Members in my neighborhood had been the only source of strength and encouragement and I’m not sure I would have survived without their help. Even Jerry’s family was very supportive; I had always felt close to them, and they were almost all there with my other friends when I was welcomed back into the church.
Jerry was something else though. I didn’t run into him often, but each time I did, I had the feeling his bitterness was even greater than it was the time before. He hadn’t replaced me yet and altogether his life seemed to be as empty as mine had been, but I somehow felt that I was doing more to fill mine back up than he was. At my age, the only thing that bothered me was that I knew I would never find a man that I could feel comfortable and close with in marriage, but even though, I was still comfortable with the way things were going, and believed I would survive as a single girl for as long as I had to.
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As the author, and someone who has known Lynn and closely observed her for the last 12 years, I can tell you she did survive. I can also tell you that Lynn met another man, one of the best men I know right now. He is talented and successful as a professional consultant and developer and he has an extensive and valuable background in contract law as well. He had been married before also, before he met Lynn, but hasn’t said a lot about that relationship, and I haven’t pried. I’m one of the many neighbors and friends who have stood by her through these years of growth since her marriage with Jerry ended. I knew her and Jerry both before as well.
I have no idea where Jerry is now, but I understand he always had difficulty with what happened. He couldn’t let go of the images his own mind had painted and kept them alive for his own misery.
I think Jerry was the perfect and unfortunate example of the damage one person can do to their self if they can’t forgive another who has hurt them deeply. Absolutely no one who knows this story questions whether Jerry is still justified in holding onto his pain, and not forgiving Lynn, but at the same time, no one feels he is wise in doing so.
Worry over Jerry, and what she did to him is the only negative aspect that remains in Lynn’s life. She and her husband Ted have invested much of their hard earned finances into expensive procedures for difficult pregnancy cases like her’s. They now have a beautiful daughter that is wonderfully spoiled. They won’t be able to have another unless they adopt, but they show so much love to one another in everything they do, it wouldn’t surprise me if they did.
I asked Lynn recently if she felt any insecurity at all in her marriage to Ted. She told me, with total confidence that she knew they would always be together no matter what happened. Apparently she believes both of them are incurable fixers like me, and no matter what, they would both do whatever it took to resolve anything that could come up.
Ted had already told me the same on his own accord. He knew everything that had happened to cause Lynn’s divorce because she had told him. She didn’t want any secrets or skeletons in the closet before they shared their wedding vows; Lynn even played the infamous tape, from beginning to end. She still loves Jerry, she always did and hopes she always will, and Ted knows this as well and supports it; that’s why she still feels pain over what she did.
Some of you will be upset that Lynette survived and succeeded in her life, while Jerry may not have. This isn’t because as the writer of their story, I decided to make it happen this way; I wrote the story because it did happen this way and in life we deal with reality.
I’ll never begrudge Lynette her happiness just because she succeeded after having made terrible mistakes, but I guarantee you that some readers will.
To be honest, I’m appalled by the mean spirited nature of many readers, mostly men. When I say we still apply a double standard, I’m absolutely sure we do. If a man strays and his wife shows the courage to stick by him, and not dominate the relationship by holding it over his head like a negative club for the rest of their lives we applaud her caring ability and forgiving nature, and wish them the best.
If a woman strays and her husband doesn’t throw her out, or beat her up emotionally with it for the rest of their lives and take complete control of every aspect of their relationship, or unless he struts around like a domineering master with her visibly under his thumb for the world to see, we call him a wimp and wish only the worst for them both.
It’s interesting that we provide a definition in the dictionary for the husband of a cheating wife, he’s referred to as a cuckold, but there’s no equivalent term to describe the wife of a cheating husband.
It doesn’t surprise me that we seem to lack the ability to publicly cheer and hope for the best when a woman like Lynette really works to pay for her mistakes and gets past them. I know that Jerry’s inability to forgive her was one of the most powerful forces working to push her under again, but I’m sure many out there will only see her emotional weakness under such pressure as evidence of her worthlessness and never look back to Jerry’s refusal to give her any real chance as a contributing cause.
A frustrated reader on another site said he gives up on me because I won’t change life to fit his idea of the only happy ending possible, unlimited revenge for Jerry without consequence, and no possibility for happiness for Lynette, under any circumstance.
Well I simply say, “Bull shit”! Cheer for any success wherever and however you find it, no matter who it is that’s willing to stand up and work for it. Weep when you see any failure to learn through living, and hope the unfortunate soul who thinks the only way we can get past the hurt we receive from another is to see the other person wasted to eternal damnation, learns that the only way to really get past pain is step over or around it, and simply get on with life.
An element was missing in Lynn and Jerry’s relationship, I don’t think it had ever been learned. The element is based on communication and it relates to the committment two people make to insure that every year they live together will be better than the year before.
Lynn didn’t start to learn that until she lost everything and had to start over. I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think Jerry ever did learn it because he was never was forced to take any share of the responsibility for what Lynn did, so he had the easy out luxury of sitting back and blaming his misfortune and happiness on someone else.
I have no doubt that Lynette would have done everything she could to make things work out if she and Jerry would have stuck it out, but I don’t know if they would have ever been able to learn the principals they needed to if they had stayed together. The best thing for both of them was probably to divorce.
I just wish Jerry would have risen above the thing. He was the one who wanted out, but I think he failed to learn that we control our happiness in life only by what WE do, not by what others do for us.
I think Ted as a person is more committed to the core items that make a relationship survive and work well. Those root elements of communication trust and respect for each other need to be there first, before a test like this comes up. A couple has to at least be committed to the principal of learning and growing, and not casting blame in order to open the door for excitement and any sense of sexual adventure, whether they maintain total fidelity in their marriage or open their relationship up to others.
*The End*
“P.S. Like I said above, I’m particularly interested in the woman’s point of view, but if any reader would enjoy seeing your fantasy or story developed with that in mind, please contact me with a way to reply to you. If no one’s interested then that’s OK and I’ll take a rest for a while. It’s exhausting work to try to develop a story with a message, and sometimes it’s not terribly pleasant and rewarding. Thanks for your interest.”