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Buddies

By: Pappageno



Jack and I met in a co-ed racquetball league about five years ago. I beat his ass every time we played. Racquetball is a small person’s game. If you present a small target and can move really quickly, it doesn’t matter how strong you are (although I do work out), you are good. I am 5’2” and barely weigh 100 lbs. I have a figure that is described as ‘boyish’. My tits aren’t big, 32 B cup, but I have a great ass. Jack is 6’3”, 225, with broad shoulders and a tight ass. He is big and strong, exactly not my type. It drove him nuts that I beat him all the time. He started inviting me to play matches outside the league. He just wanted to get good enough to beat me. If we played in the morning, loser bought breakfast; at night, loser bought beers. He fed me a lot and got me drunk a lot that first year. He finally got so he could actually beat me. Now we play pretty evenly. He usually introduces me as his racquetball buddy.

When we met, he was seeing Barb. She was his soul-mate, he told me. They were cast from the same mold. They were going to have babies. They would be the best parents and the happiest family in history. I heard this often. It was kind of disgusting. I went engagement ring shopping with him (gag!), but he was so picky he couldn’t settle on any one design. I hate to shop. That shows how much I like the guy, I shopped with him. That was the only thing stopping him from popping the question, the perfect ring.

One Sunday afternoon, I got a knock on the door. This is unusual for me. I have a girlfriend who visits often, but she has kids so I know when she is coming. I live along the river, near a highway, but it still feels remote. So, I feel free to dress—or not—as I please. Summer Sunday afternoons I clean the house. Boating comes later in the day. I work hard on my house when I do it. I work up a sweat, or I splash water on myself while doing the dishes, so I usually end up with no shirt on. When the knock came, I scrambled for a top. A tube top was on the dryer, so I popped it on and answered the door.

There was Jack, red-eyed and tear-stained.

“Mikie, I need you. My life has just gone in the toilet and you are the only person I can believe in.” He wrapped his big arms around me and began blubbering into my neck.

“Uh, Jack, what the hell has happened? Sit down, you’re crushing me.” He sat on the sofa next to me with his face in his hands.

“It’s Barb. I had to go by the office for some papers and was going to go to the gym. I skipped the gym and came straight home so I could be with Barb. She was in the shower with Gina. Mikie, she was fucking Gina! They had a dildo and Barb was licking her twat! Oh, God!” He began to sob again. “I heard noises coming from the bathroom, so I looked in. It sounded like someone was in pain, not ecastcy. She never made those sounds when I fucked her. Mikie, she was into it! I stormed out of the room just as they saw me. Barb followed me to our room in her robe. Do you know that she actually said that two people could take a shower together without having sex? They were fucking. She said that we didn’t have to break up. I just had to ‘be able to handle her having this relationship’. Fuck that. I don’t want to share her with that ugly bitch Gina. I really thought we had a life together, but I won’t live like this. I told her she had until tomorrow to get out with that bitch and all her shit. Mikie, I can’t go back there tonight. Can I crash on your couch?”

“Of course, you can stay. I’m so sorry. I know you thought she was going to be the mother of your children and your life partner. But you’re right to kick her out. Cheating is cheating whatever the gender. You deserve better.” I opened my arms, and the big lug fell into them. He tucked his head under my chin and rested his rough cheek on my chest. And he cried. He was so hurt. My heart went out to him, even though all his friends thought he was making a mistake with her. I stroked his hair as he sobbed. I kissed his forehead and whispered comforting sounds. He knew I didn’t like Barb and I hated that pock-marked, flannel shirt wearing, ugly dyke, Gina. Sh’d been sniffing around Barb for months. I knew it would be trouble.

“Now you know why I don’t like lesbians,” I said. Jack already knew my feelings about lesbians. Lipstick lesbians are one thing, but full-blown dykes are something else. Lipstick lesbians are women who are just curious. After all, 3 billion men can’t be wrong, women must be sexy. But full-blown dykes are conniving, manipulative people who screw up lives. Every once in a while they find one another, and that’s okay. But most dykes recruit straight women and screw them up for a long time. That’s what I think happened to Barb. But fuck her, I was worried about Jack. A guy could easily think that it was him who turned her off of men.

I tried to mumble sweet things that might make him feel better. Finally, I just hummed some tunes from my childhood, stroked his hair and rocked him. This guy didn’t deserve this.

As we rocked and I hummed, Jack began to rub my tummy beneath my tube top. I found it strangely erotic. I almost expected him to put his thumb in his mouth. Almost before I knew what I was doing, I rolled my tube top down, exposing my breasts.

“They say that the most comforting thing a person can do is suckle,” I whispered as I guided his mouth to my nipple. And suckle, he did. My nipples are very sensitive and he explored every nerve ending. My nipples got harder and longer than they have ever been before or since. The man can suck tit. It didn’t take long for me to have a little orgasm just from his sucking.

When he slid my jean shorts off and buried his face in my pussy, I realized that I might have created a monster. His tongue was all over my pussy lips, my clit and way up in me. I came again.

When he finally came up for air, I grabbed his face and said, “If life were fair, I would now suck your cock for a while. But life’s not fair. You, sir, have to fuck me right now and fuck me hard. This pussy takes no prisoners. ”That’s when he actually surprised me.

I had forgotten about that whole big guy, tiny girl thing. He stood in front of me as I sat on the sofa, legs spread wide from being licked, his dick standing tall and proud. He bent over and picked me up.

I mean he cupped one large hand under each ass cheek and said, “Hang on tight,” and picked me up bodily and impaled my pussy on his dick. The feeling was incredible! He just slammed my pussy up to his hilt. I’m sure I screamed. He leaned back against the door frame and began to bounce me up and down on his cock. I was beginning to make feral sounds. It was like he was jacking off, but he was using my pussy instead of his hand. It seemed I could feel his dick up to my naval on the inside. I came and I came.

And, finally, he came. He picked me up so that just the head of his dick was just inside my pussy, then slammed me down onto him as he exploded into me. His pulses went on and on. And I came again.

He carried me over to the sofa and I lay down on top of him. He was spent. Emotionally and physically, he was spent. I curled up on his chest. He was relaxed, but I was buzzin’. I needed more. Orgasms do that to me. I get energized. I can fuck more, or I can clean the house. Which I do tells you what kind of lover I think you are.

Jack was still semi-hard after his monster ejaculation, and I went down on him. I’m not that big on sucking dick, but I’ll happily do it after I have been fucked by it. I don’t know if it’s my own taste on the dick, or the fact that I know that I’ve already got mine.

I sucked him very well. I love to run my tongue under ridge at the edge of the head. Jack was totally hard within minutes. I made him lay on his back and told him that it was my turn. I was going to fuck him, and I was going to fuck him my way, at my pace and my time, but he would be totally satisfied when I finished.

I climbed on top of Jack and explored him as if he were a mountain, which he was to me. I smelled his chest and licked his elbows. I rubbed my pussy on him a lot. I rubbed my pussy on his nipples. I rubbed my pussy on his chin. On his knees. On his thighs, on his face. I used his toes to explore my pussy. Throughout, I had small orgasms which just drove me on.

Finally, I pinned his arms down and said, “I’m fuckin’ you now, and you better like it.” I spread my pussy lips and slowly slid down his cock, dragging my clit across the shaft as I went. Slowly, I eased my pussy up and down his dick. It kept getting harder and bigger. I thought he might explode, and not in the usual way. My knees were on either side of his waist to give me the most control. I leaned over so my breasts hung in front of him. I kissed him long and hard with my tongue mimicking the movements of my pussy. As I rode him, I whispered in his ear.

“I’m not Barb, and I can’t be what you wanted her to be. But I can be what you need right now.” And maybe what I needed. I needed dick more than I had realized.

Sometimes, when I’m on top, I get really aggressive. I’ve been known to bruise bones. We bruised one another that night. I just started rocketing up and down and slamming bones until we both came at the same time, yet again. (Okay, I come so often, he’d have to have really bad timing to miss me.)

We fell asleep in each others’ arms, fucked again at six in the morning, and slept until ten. Over coffee, it was nervously quiet.

“We have to talk,’ I said finally.

“Oh, no. The four most dreaded words in the annals of masculinity. When a woman utters those four words, it can only be bad. What, pray, do we have to talk about?”

“You male chauvinist bastard! See, that’s why I like to beat the fuck out of you at racquetball. You’re fucking arrogant. You think that, because I have a pussy and tits and hormones, I am going to get all mushy on you and want to talk about ‘feelings.’ Well, I do want to talk about feelings, your feelings, you fucking pig.”

“Chill out, Mikie! I was just razzing you. I’m glad you have a pussy and tits. What’s this all about?” He seemed interested at last.

“Look, “ I said, “this is important. I really like you. You are a great bud. We have fun playing racquetball, eating out, goofing off. You are one of my best friends. I don’t want to screw that up by you getting all dreamy eyed over me. I cannot be your replacement for Barb. I don’t want a ‘relationship’. I don’t want to be married with 2.5 children. I am not on the mommy track. I am not monogamous by nature. I like fucking different people. None of this points to a long-term, exclusive relationship. You’ve just been hurt really badly. I don’t want to hurt you all over again. If you think I will be your ‘soul-mate,’ you will be hurt.

The sex was to comfort you, and to let you know that you are a desirable man. Barb didn’t turn gay because of any inadequacy in you. I guess, subconsciously, I wanted to show you that. Well, and I was really horney, and I love to fuck. I have to admit that I have thought about fucking you for a long time. And you are a really good lover. I am pretty damned satisfied.

So, I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to ‘date’ you, and I don’t want to hurt you, but I would like to fuck you again, at least once in a while. How about if we were fuck buddies?” 

“Fuck buddies? What the hell are you talking about, Mikie?” he asked.

“Okay, here’s my thoughts. We go right on like nothing happened. We keep playing ball once or twice a week with the attendant beers or breakfasts when we can. We keep going to a movie or a play once in a while. But every once in a while we have sex. You know, in just a recreational sort of way. Just like bicycling or boating. What do you think?”

“Let me get this straight. You don’t want me to buy you flowers? You don’t expect jewelry on special occasions? If I don’t call you for a week, you won’t freak out? I don’t have to pay every time we go out, we can go Dutch, just like now? You won’t start to tell me how to dress or how to decorate my apartment? And you will nonetheless fuck me periodically?” he asked.

“No, no, no, yes, no, yes. That’s about it. I woke up in the middle of the night and thought this all out. No jealousy. We are free to fuck anyone else we want to, with no concern. Just because we fuck someone else, doesn't mean that we won’t fuck each other again. But we can’t fuck if either of us is dating seriously. That’s cheating. If either of us finds someone special, we’ll keep on being just the same kind of friends we are now, just without fucking. Sound okay?” I asked.

“You are amazing. You mean that you are offering to be friends, have sex from time to time, and I am free to look for someone to settle down with?”

“Yeah, you know I don’t want any of that marriage shit, but I really like sex. Life would be so simple if I could just pick up the phone and say ‘Jack, how about dinner and a good, hard fuck?’ and not worry that some guy will go gaga over me. I just don’t have time for that dating shit, and I don’t want people in town to think that I’m a whore. But, if I don’t get dick at least a couple times a month, I am one mean bitch.

Besides, it’s not fair to you to monopolize your time and prevent you from finding your life partner, when I am not even in the running for that role. But you have a great cock and can fuck really well. I’d like to fuck you again.”

“Mikie, I got to say, I have always thought of you as just another guy. Okay, you have tits and a pussy, but you act like a guy. I never even fantasized about you. I mean, you watch football and cuss like a sailor. I’ve heard you belch and fart. Sometimes it is distracting when you are watching a car race and your guy gets the lead and your nipples get hard. You know, if you wore underwear I wouldn’t have to see that shit? Now I know that you are all woman, but you still act like a man. And you kind of fuck like a man.

But, yeah. I think I can do it. Recreational sex with you will be a lot like racquetball, as much a contest as anything. It sounds like fun. I promise I won’t get all dreamy over you. I don’t think I could think of you as a girlfriend anyway. You’re a friend who is a girl. Okay.”

“Deal,” I said. “So, want to fuck again, say here on the kitchen table?” And we did.

And that’s how it began. At first he called me too often and I had to tell him to cool it. Finally we have fallen into pattern. We have gone on like normal. And when we want to fuck we tell each other, and we fuck. I will say that we have held to our rules. We’ve each dated other people in the last five years. And we just quit fucking one another. When we have gone back, it has always been incredible. Fuck buddies, it’s great!

Buddies



I put the last period on the final sentence and sighed deeply, sitting back so hard that the old chair creaked. Every single nerve ending in my hand went numb and the No. 2 pencil slapped the pock-marked desk top, breaking the silence like the shattering of a glass. It was done. My very last final. If I did as well as I thought I had, I would graduate summa cum laude with a bachelor’s degree in Electrical Engineering and the OrionCorp job would be mine. Then all my dreams would come true.

As always, my thoughts turned to my dad, mostly because some of the dreams I had concerned him. It had been almost twelve years since Mom had died; a horrible, lingering death caused by breast cancer that had been diagnosed just eight months earlier. Dad and I clung to each other like lichen to rocks as she deteriorated before our eyes, going from a hale, hearty farm girl to someone who looked like they had survived the Holocaust. Her medical bills broke our family and my father had to take out a second mortgage on the house as well as work a second job just to stay afloat.

I don’t remember when she died. I know it was in summer and that the date was in June but most of that year afterward was non-existent. I played soccer and worked at a local burger joint and threw myself into science and computer classes when school began again. I don’t know how I made the grades; I look back and think that Mom was helping me but I worked hard over the years and found myself with a full scholarship to MIT.

Dad was happy for me but I could see the sadness in his eyes. I would be leaving home and he would be alone for the first time since Mom died. He pretended that he wasn’t hurting and I did my level best to show him that I’d be all right. I never told him that when I settled into my room, I bawled like a baby. Now, I was returning home, triumphant but absolutely petrified.

Why? Because I’ve discovered that I’m gay and that I’m hopelessly, helplessly head-over-heels in love with my father.

Once the final was over, I ran to my dorm room and dialed home. He answered on the fifth ring, sounding out of breath. “Hello?”

“Hey, Dad. I’m all done!”

“Great!”

As I explained the final and the questions involved, my eyes drifted over to the bank of photos I kept at the side of my bed. He’d always been my hero but that had metamorphosized into a full-blown love affair. I hung on his every response and savored the words that issued from his husky throat.

“Aaron?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, Dad. My brain cells are starving.”

“Why don’t I drive down and pick you up?”

“Aw, Dad, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” 

When he sighed heavily, I wondered what was going on. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

“Oh, nothing. Just missing my buddy.”

My heart jumped in my chest at hearing the word, buddy. It was an old nickname he used to call me and I hadn’t heard it for a long time. “Well, your buddy’s right here, Dad.” The emotion I felt wracked my voice and I had to really fight hard not to cry. “I miss you, too.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat brusquely, letting me know that he was also on the verge of tears and my heart leaped again. “So I’ll pick you up tomorrow then. We can get everything packed up and spend a couple of days in a hotel somewhere. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“Okay, Aaron. See you tomorrow.”

I spent the rest of the day packing my belongings and was thrilled when I was able to get it all done that evening. I didn’t want to waste any time doing mundane things with my dad here. I cleaned the entire place and went to sleep on the floor, the clean scent of Pine-Sol in my nostrils.

Bright and early, there was a knock on my door and I was surprised to find my father, the 47-year old man the world knew as Tim Millerson. His salt-and-peppered blonde hair was stylishly long and wispy-clean, framing tanned skin and icy blue eyes. He smiled, his eyes crinkling and I launched myself into his arms as if I was a child again. His toned body pressed against mine and it took all I had within me to keep my prick from hardening.

“There’s my buddy.” He said, giving me a hard squeeze. “Hey, you’ve already packed!”

“I didn’t want to spend any more time here than I had to.” I laughed. “Besides, I’m looking forward to our little vacation.”

It took a little over three hours for us to load our trucks and I spent much of the time watching him. He had always been an outdoorsman and his lean body showed it. The muscles in his arms and legs weren’t thick but softly defined and his stomach held only a slight paunch. I knew that he dated but he always told me that no one compared to Mom and that sex was awkward. When I tried to envision my Dad having sex, my dick hardened and I had to carry boxes a bit lower until it softened.

We hauled our loaded cars over to the Howard Johnson’s where Dad got us a room. After showering, we bought a couple six packs of Foster’s, ordered pizza and settled in for the night. Of course, there was nothing to watch. HBO was playing a re-run of Six Feet Under and the other channels were playing a mix of The Andy Griffith Show, Eyewitness News at 10 and paid programming for some exercise thing called the Gazelle.

Dad had pretty much talked non-stop the entire day, telling me about how things were going at home and what some of my old friends were doing. As we sat flipping through channels, he finally noticed my silence. I was shaking inside when he turned those gorgeous baby blues toward me, his expression inquisitive.

“What’s up?”

I chewed pepperoni and mushrooms, keeping my eyes on the television until I had finished and cracked open a fresh beer before replying to him. “Nothing, Dad. Why?”

“You’ve been quiet all day. You worried about your final?”

“Naw. I think I’m okay.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing, Dad.”

“You’ve never been a good liar, Aaron.” His eyes penetrated my soul and I flinched. “What’s the matter?” I sat up, looking down at the floor. “Are you in trouble?”

“No, Dad.”

“Then where’s my buddy?”

I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the soft concern in his voice or his masculine scent but I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his open mouth. He jerked back, his jaw hanging open in confusion but I saw no disgust in his eyes. I shifted my position on the bed, tugging the crotch of my pants away from my suddenly hard prick. I saw his eyes flash downward and heat flooded my face, knowing that he had seen my erection. Still, he did not move. 

I took a chance and stood, drawing my 5’ 11”, 190 pound body up and walking around to the inside edge of the bed, then slowly knelt at his feet. His eyes remained locked onto mine, swinging down to his knees as I placed my hands on them and gently pulled them open, moving between. I nearly passed out when the head of his hard prick poked out of the side of the gym shorts, throbbing against his leg. I had gotten his attention. I just had to make sure that he knew that I loved him.

“Dad, your buddy is right here.” I let my hands gently stroke the tops of his thighs. “I’ve been so lonely without you.” As I thought of what I wanted to say, I thought of all of the times that he had been there for me and I found myself getting teary. “I love you.”

I watched as tears built in his eyes and he cupped my cheek with one hand, pushing his fingers back through my blond locks. “I love you, too.”

Dad said nothing else. I know he was working to find the words but just couldn’t. I turned my head to the side and placed a long, wet kiss in the center of his palm, returning my eyes to his and was rewarded with a deep shudder and a long sigh. I pushed up off of my haunches and cupped his face, pulling his face to mine and our lips touched, tentatively at first, then with more pressure. I whimpered at the realization of my dream: I was kissing my father. His hand slid behind my head, lacing through my hair and crushed my mouth to his, his tongue sliding along my bottom lip.

I opened my mouth and had to fight the urge to cum when his tongue slid inside, rubbing against my tongue and lips. I must have whimpered again because he deepened the kiss and his free hand slid over my back. I broke the kiss to remove my shirt, then removed his, feasting in the soft blond and silver hair that covered his chest and belly. I ran my hands through it, targeting his nipples and half-smiling at his sharp intake of breath when I pinched them.

Dad leaned down and kissed me again, taking control of the situation and his strong arms drew me up from the floor, maneuvering me over onto the bed and laying me down. “I’ve wanted my buddy for so long.” His husky whisper sent chills down my spine as he leaned over me, licking my ear and nibbling my neck. “I love you so much, Aaron.”

Tears spilled down the sides of my face which he quickly kissed away. His mouth paused to glide over mine again, our tongues wrapping together, before he moved down to my lightly-furred chest, heading for my nipples. I arched off the bed when his teeth grazed one of my nipples, then the other. While he ravaged my nipples, his hand traveled down the brown, silky line of hair and burrowed into my jean shorts, finding my aching, dribbling cock.

“Daddy.” I couldn’t help speaking his name as I pushed into his hand, gasping when he squeezed in response. I moved again, fucking his hand and groaning into his mouth. He pulled his hand away, looking down into my eyes, asking me a question. I gave the answer. “Yes.”

He stood and I sat up on my knees, reaching forward and grasping the elastic waistband of his shorts. Thick hips appeared, a triangle of light blond pubic hair and then the most beautiful nine inches of cut cock that I’d ever seen bobbed free, snapping up and slapping Dad’s stomach. Pre-cum splattered his skin and my mouth watered as his set of heavy balls swung forward. I didn’t waste any more time.

I pulled Dad forward by his hips and shoved that beautiful cock into my mouth, not caring that my lips were being stretched and that I was close to throwing up. A cold shiver ran through me and I moaned, taking as much of him in as I could and letting my tongue explore his hot, smooth skin. A groan rumbled through Dad and he swayed a bit. I pulled my mouth off his cock and pushed him onto the bed, attacking his pole again, this time, licking him like a lollipop.

He moaned again, thrusting upward into my mouth. I moved down to his balls and gave them a good tongue lashing, making him squirm and cry out, then went back to deep-throating his prick as best as I could. He pushed me off and flipped me onto my back, his tongue pushing into my mouth as his hands unbutton my jeans and slide them down my legs. I quickly grabbed them before he tossed them to the floor, fishing a tube of Astroglide out of the pocket and handing it to him.

“Came prepared, eh?”

I smiled briefly, staring up into his eyes. “I hoped … “ My heart melted when his fingers gently touched my cheek, then traced my lips. He kissed me again and this time, I felt all the love in his heart pouring into me and without warning, I came, my juice coating my stomach and part of his side. Dad reached down, took a fingerful of my jizz and painted my lips, kissing me so that we could enjoy the taste. If I could have, I would have cum again. 

He squeezed a liberal amount of lube onto his fingers and pressed my legs open, feeling for my virgin hole and pressing inside. A streak of pain went through me, closely followed by a pleasing sensation of fullness as he worked two fingers inside me. I pressed against them, delirious with lust and Dad added another finger, along with more of the cold lube. He worked me until I was crying his name and my prick was somehow hard as a rock again.

I raised my legs and he moved between, stroking lube up and down his magnificent stalk. My heart was pounding in my chest as he lowered himself and I closed my eyes in anticipation when I felt the slick head of his cock at my opening. “My buddy.” With those whispered words, my dad slid his cock inside me.

His huge pole threatened to split me and I was so grateful that he took his time, easing himself into me while kissing and sucking my neck. When his balls smacked my ass, he paused for a long moment, settling himself into me. I pulled his mouth back to mine again and fought for breath when he started moving. Pleasure streaked through me like lightning, setting every inch of me on fire. He set an easy pace, grinding upwards and scraping a special spot that made my teeth grind together with each pass.

I had a surreal moment in the middle of fucking my father. I felt light-headed as I stared into his eyes, his thick prick in my ass and my hand jerking my own cock. This was everything I’d wanted. My handsome father pounding my ass, his eyes filled with love and lust. He must have noticed because he came down against me, my prick sandwiched between our bodies and kissed me again.

Suddenly, it was all too much. I felt his cock pulse in my ass and liquid warmth filled my bowels. My father’s cumming in me! I threw my head back and shouted his name as I came, spraying cum between our bodies. 

It was several moments before I came to myself, smiling as I realized that our fingers were intertwined and that I was still impaled on his half-hard rod. His body covered mine and I wriggled my fingers free and wrapped my arms around him, looping my legs around his hips. Quietly, I told him of my plans: of the job, of moving to a new place, of him being with me, always.

“And you did all this for me?”

“For us, Dad.” I smoothed his hair. “For us. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone but you. I don’t want anyone but you.” He lifted his head and pierced me with those blue eyes. “Will you come with me?”

“I thought I just did.” He laughed a moment, then sobered, touching my cheek. “Yes, Aaron. I will. I don’t think I can live without my buddy any longer.”

We made love again and again, each time more deep and connecting and by morning, I had asked Dad to marry me once we had moved. To my delight, he accepted. Dad attended my graduation, playing the proud role of a father but only he and I knew the importance of flashing the new rings we both wore, diamond rings that bore the inscription: Buddies Forever.



Buddies??



The story has no sex. It's another unfaithful wife and consequence story told by the husband. If this is not your thing, move on. BlBones

* * * * *

I wiped tears from my eyes as we turned to leave the graveside service. The service was sparsely attended; my wife, Marlene, my daughter, a long-time friend, and two officials. My son refused to attend.

Marlene took my arm, pulled close, and quietly said, "I know it's hard when it's some one you love," and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

I corrected her, "Honey, the correct word is 'loved,' past tense. Right now I'm just feeling so sorry about what happened and how she suffered so much this last year. You are the one I love. Thanks for your help and support, and especially for your extra love over the past months."

The last chapter to an earlier part of my life had just been written and closed. The first chapter of that life had been written seventeen years ago when I married her, Cindy. The closing chapters began eleven years ago when we traveled to the Nation's Capitol for a reunion of the First Marine Air Wing. 

I had resigned my commission ten years earlier and one of my close buddies, Jerry, did a lot of leg work to organize a gathering of our Marine buddies. Most of us had gone through flight training and then served together for the first four or five of our service careers. 

I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you a little more about Cindy an me. My name is Ronald, Ron, Allran. Cindy and I had met at the Marine Corps Birthday party while I was stationed in Washington. We dated and married six months later. We adopted a modified version of an open marriage. I did this thinking that it would be some relief to her if she could have a little sex during periods when I was on board carrier for six or more months at a time. We agreed that we would be truthful with each other and let the other know what was happening. We would let the other know of any extramarital activities in advance, when possible, and we would not engage in any activity with any persons we associated with in any way. Naturally we would engage only when observing proper safety procedures which meant most of the time condoms would be used.

It turns out that the reason for the open marriage was short lived. Two years after we were married I received an eye injury in an automobile accident. The injury could not be corrected to Naval flying standards and I began to fly a desk. Before the accident, I had been deployed only once, for eight months and Cindy had exercised her freedom twice and I only once.

I could only stand the non-flying administrative position for about two years. I was never deployed again. So, after a little more than two years at a desk, I resigned out of frustration not being able to fly anything but a desk. We were just approaching our fifth anniversary when I resigned. Our daughter was born just after my accident, and my son, two years later.

I landed a good job with an airport planning and construction firm based in St. Louis. In addition to my administrative responsibilities, I was able to qualify to fly the company jet. I flew about twice a month and was gone no more than one or two nights on those occasions. It wasn't like a fighter, but it was flying, and I was happy. Following my return from the last deployment in the Marines, neither of us invoked our our open marriage agreement. We didn't need to since we were together with a few brief overnight separations. 

When Jerry, the organizer, informed me of the reunion, I was tickled. I told Cindy about it and she was almost as excited as I was. When I asked my boss for a couple of days off, he was happy to let me have them and made plans to go to Washington on that Friday on business. I could fly Cindy and himself out in the company jet and he would take the weekend to see friends before we flew back on Monday. My expense would essentially be room, board, and transportation while in Washington.

Cindy and I arrived at the hotel about noon on Friday. The reunion wasn't until Saturday, beginning with lunch and then concluding after a banquet and dancing on Saturday night. Small groups,, such as ours, usually arranged meetings and or activities on Sunday. I was able to find Jerry and a couple of the other guys and their wives, and we had supper with them. Cindy knew Jerry and his wife and she knew Carl but had never met his wife. The six of us had a wonderful evening with Jerry being able to get us tickets to the concert at the Kennedy Center.

Saturday, Cindy and I slept in, had a late breakfast and then joined others for the opening luncheon. Afterwards, the men gathered in various sized groups and the reminisces of the past began. There were numerous vendors exhibiting all kinds of military connected materials and I along with five of my closest friends made the rounds while exchanging or recalling stories. Cindy, along with four or five other wives excused themselves and headed for the Smithsonian. They returned about five and we all went to our rooms to rest, change clothes, and be back for the banquet at seven. 

Our guest speaker was a retired Colonel who had served under Chesty Puller. He kept us glued to our seats as he recounted Chesty's career. A lot of it was serious, but it was thoroughly sprinkled with hilariously and amusing anecdotes, especially as he told them.

The formal proceeding concluded about nine and the band took over. I was more interested in talking with my old buddies and Cindy was antsy to dance. She finally told me she was going to find one or more dance partners and I could talk away. That was fine with me and to be truthful I almost forgot about her.

About an hour later I got the shock of my life when Cindy appeared from off the dance floor. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Sweetie, I'm going to be gone for a little while."

It took a moment for what she had said to sink in. Then I incredulously inquired, "Where are you going, what are you doing?" 

She took me by the arm and pulled me away from the group. "I've found someone interesting. I won't be gone too long." 

Now the FULL impact of what she was saying crashed down. She was wanting to exercise our open marriage. I had assumed with my leaving the service that that part of our life and experience was over. I just stood there looking at her with my mouth open. 

She reached over, gave me a love pat on the cheek and in a light hearted voice reiterated that she wouldn't be gone too long. Before I could react or say anything, she disappeared into the throng on the dance floor. I tried to catch her, but she had disappeared.

My mind was racing as I considered what was happening. We hadn't talked about our arrangement in years. I had just written it off as past history. But now Cindy was apparently cashing in on it. I had to admit to myself that since we had never officially scrapped the understanding, she was perfectly within her rights. But when we made our pact, I had never for a moment thought that it would be brought into play while we were together or only separated for a short period of time.

My thoughts were interrupted when one of the guys called asked me if I was coming back. I rejoined them and tried to rejoin the festivities, but my mind was not there. After a while, two of my closer buddies, who had determined that something was wrong, started to probe. It didn't take long before I had confided what was happening, I thought. This threw a damper on the conversations and brought a pale of silence for a few minutes.

One of the guys, trying to lighten things up and get back to better talk popped off with, "Well at least it isn't with good old Larry Martin." Several chuckled and agreed. I didn't find it very funny. Larry had been a member of our squadron in flight school and for about two years after. I hated his guts. He was a very good looking, fair haired pilot, and he knew it. We used to say that if it didn't have a cock between its legs, he'd fuck it and it didn't have to be human.

During our first year out of flight school he was diagnosed and treated for a venereal disease. Barely a year latter he was diagnosed and treated again. This time he was offered the opportunity to resign his commission or face charges of 'conduct unbecoming an officer' and be discharged. He resigned his commission. 

My stomach went sour a few minutes later when Jerry pulled me aside and told me that Larry was in fact attending the reunion and my stomach went into complete, cramping knots when he went on to say that he had seen Cindy dancing with him earlier. He quickly apologized saying that he had thought I had seen them.

"Christ, Jerry. Do you think I would have just sat there if I knew that son-of-a-bitch was here and dancing with Cindy? Do you know what room he is in?"

"Cool down Ron. Let's not fly off the bat. No, I don't know what room he is in and the front desk will connect you to his room, but they won't give you his room number. Let's ask around a see if anyone knows." 

It took about ten minutes, but I spotted Marv who was one of the few friends Larry had. He knew, and he gave me his room number. By now it had been about thirty minutes since Cindy left. I high signed Jerry that I was going. He naturally assumed I had Larry's room number. By the time I got to the lobby there were six of my buddies converging on me. They were coming to see that I didn't get myself into trouble.

While waiting there for the elevator I was being told to stay cool, to think this out, don't do anything rash, etc. 

The elevator door opened and I was ready to rush in when I stopped, dumbfounded. There was Cindy, ready to step out into the lobby. Her lipstick was fresh and her hair neatly brushed. I grabbed her as she came out and my escorts dispersed. Standing a couple of steps from the elevator, "Where in the hell have you been?"

She was somewhat startled but she was able to reply showing only a little irritation, "Honey, I told you. I met someone interesting. I have been with him. I don't know why you are bring so agitated. I have not done anything that we haven't agreed to."

"This someone interesting didn't happen to be a Larry Martin in room 1021 did it?"

Her color drained. I didn't need an answer. "That son-of-a-bitch! I'm going to kill that bastard."

Cindy was visibly shaken and people were looking at us. I took her by the hand and led her into an elevator that had just opened. She was trying to protest but I told her with no uncertainty to keep her damned mouth shut. On our floor I practically dragged her to our room, went in, slammed the door shut, and almost threw her onto the bed. 

By the time I was ready to talk to her she was crying and becoming hysterical. "Ron, what has gotten in to you? What have I done? What's wrong?"

I was shaking, but I stopped as I realized that I was taking my frustration and anger out on her. The frustration was of not having our signals right, but the anger I was feeling because of Larry was something else. I sat down and buried my head in my hands. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be taking all of this out on you. Can we be quiet for a few minutes and let me get my head screwed back on right? I need to get things in order."

She made a large sniffle and said that yes we could rest a minute. "I'm so sorry for whatever I have done to upset you so much."

We sat quietly for several minutes. Cindy went to the bathroom to wash her face and to get some facial tissues. When she came back she sat in my lap and asked if we could talk now. I nodded.

"Ron, can you tell me what this is all about? I thought we had an understanding shortly after we were married. You have never reacted this way in the past. Please tell me what I have done."

"Honey, I'm sorry for my behavior. The first problem is of my own doing or failure to do. I had come to assume that our agreement was to get us through times when I was deployed for months. Since leaving the Corp I had just assumed that we didn't need the agreement anymore. I'm sorry, that was a mistake on my part for not having talked about it and settled on it a long time ago."

"Oh darling, I'm sorry too. We should have talked about it. But honestly, tonight was the first time that I had the urge to be with someone else for just a while. I understand our misunderstanding and we can certainly cancel that agreement right now."

"OK, let's settle that issue later. For now I want to know if you knew that I had served with him early in my military career, before I met you?"

Her color disappeared and I knew I had hit a nerve.

"Oh honey. I'm sorry. He is such a nice person and extremely nice to be with. He's had a pretty rough life and I admire him for being able to do what he has done. I think..."

"Damn it Cindy, answer my question. Did you know that we knew each other?"

A long pause and trembling, "Yes, I knew. But I was afraid..."

"I don't give a shit about what you were afraid of. Our agreement was that we would not engage in activities with anyone either of us knew. Now I think you understand why I insisted that we make it a part of our agreement."

"Honestly, right at the moment I don't see that condition was really necessary. Larry is a wonderful man and I enjoyed his company."

That was too much. I stood up, practically dumping her on the floor. "You don't get it do you. That bastard, had I thought about it then, is exactly the reason I insisted on no friends or acquaintances. You sit there and let me tell you about that 'poor' son-of-a-bitch." 

I then told her about how he was dismissed from the Corps. I added the detail that on his second round with the venereal disease, it was found that the General's daughter, who he had been dating, was infected too. I told her in all honesty that it was not clear who gave the disease to whom.

Then I popped out with something I regretted. Trying to be a little light, I said, "I guess you should be grateful to him. He fucked every girl I ever went with and I was very serious about one of them. His activity ended that romance and because of that I was still available when you came along." That wouldn't have been too bad, but then I popped off, "And now his tally for fucking the women I have dated is 100%."

Cindy sat there motionless for a minute. Her wheels were turning. Then she smiled and said softly, "Why Rob, I'm surprised and ashamed of you. This has all blown up because you are jealous of him."

I blew my lid. "Damn it woman, you have to admire a person to be jealous of him. There is nothing to admire in him. I don't know what kind of a line of bull shit he fed you to garner your sympathy, but I can guarantee that most, if not all of what he said was just that—pure bull shit.--bull shit designed to get you into his sack."

She cowered a little and then straightening up she suggested that we let this sleep for now and talk about it when we got home. With that she suggested that we go back down stairs and join the group, that everything would be breaking up pretty soon. She stood up, reached for her purse and went into the bathroom. She emerged in a few minutes all repaired and ready to go.

"Put your coat on and let's go. We need to have a distraction. I'm sorry for being responsible for part of what happened."

"I'm not going back down there. This shindig is over so far as I am concerned."

"Well honey, I'd like to go back and say goodbye to some of our old friends."

"Let me explain it this way. You are not going back without me. If I go and I run into Larry, one of us will spend the night in the hospital or the morgue. So, I'm not telling you that you can't go, I'm just explaining what might happen if we do go. It's your choice." 

"Oh Ron, come off your high horse. The world hasn't ended. We can enjoy the last couple of hours with our friends."

I looked her in the face and told her that I was not kidding. She could tell from my look and my voice that indeed I was not kidding.

She looked at me for a moment and then smiled. "Well OK." She tried to inject some humor by flippantly saying, "Well, it seems a little funny right now, but we could get undressed and play around a little."

That's when I really shook her. "Honey, I love you and I'm sorry for all that has happened, but we are not going to make love again until after you have been checked by a doctor."

She was incredulous and she simply stood looking at me while it all sunk in. "Surely you are kidding. I made him wear a condom. Everything is OK and I don't need a check-up." The last came out with a little venom on it."

"Oh, is that so? Did you take him in your mouth and suck him?" 

"Damn you." I had to duck as here purse sailed by.

"I take that as a yes." She started to cry and dashed into the bathroom, locking the door. That was dirty and underhanded, but the anger and hurt were still pretty much in control and truthfully, I wanted to hurt someone. I was sorry that Cindy was having to take all the heat.

I called my boss and told him that there had been a change in our plans and that we would be ready to go home tomorrow morning if he wished. He said that was great and that we should meet at the airplane at nine. 

I then called Jerry on his cell phone and told him we would be leaving in the morning. He was sorry and he inquired if everything was alright between Cindy and me. I told him what had happened and he then wanted to know if Cindy and I couldn't come down for one last drink and couldn't we also have breakfast with them in the morning. I gave in and Cindy and I went back to the reunion.

When we rejoined Jerry and his wife, I noted that most of the wives were there, but several of the guys were gone. When I asked where they were, Jerry simply said, "It appears that they all registered full bladders at the same time. They'll be right back." Sure enough, they all appeared in a few minutes. However, I noticed that they were all wearing broad smiles and one of them flipped Jerry a thumbs up.

We had our drinks, said our goodbye's and went back to our room. We hadn't been in our room but a few minutes before our phone rang. It was Jerry informing me that Larry had apparently fallen down a flight of stairs and had been taken to the hospital. Initial reports indicated he would be there a day or two. I couldn't help but smile and thank him for the good news. 

I hung up the phone, and then it hit me. I recalled hearing sirens at or near the hotel shortly after the guys had returned from their head call. Now I understood the smiles and the high sign. I wanted to burst out laughing.

Cindy wanted to know what that was all about and what was making me so happy. I told her and she immediately gasped and said that we should stop by and see him before leaving in the morning.

I had had enough. "Cindy, you have known me for close to fifteen years. You knew me for almost five years of my life as a Marine and you know that Marines take care of each other."

She cut in, "But Larry is a Marine."

Loudly, "Not by our definition. But if you want to assume he is a Marine, let me explain something in language you will understand. 'If you want a happy life, you don't fuck with Marines—especially if you are a Marine." 

With tears she turned to the bathroom saying, "Ron. I'm so terribly ashamed and disappointed in you."

"That bastard can take care of himself, he sure doesn't need your help and he gets no sympathy from me. If I have to go see him, I'll break something that hasn't already been broken. It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

* * * * *

When we returned home, we were a little distant from one another for several days. Most of the distance was created by my insisting that she be checked before we made love again. She was checked and given a clean bill of health on Tuesday. The fact that I had insisted and that the results were negative brought an "I told you so" from Cindy. That was her way of saying that I wasn't forgiven yet.




Buddies??



It wasn't until Thursday night that we got around to discussing our open marriage agreement. I was surprised and very disappointed when Cindy held firm that we should keep the agreement intact. I gave in after we added a clarification and a new clause. Clarification: Before exercising the freedom provided in the agreement, we would tell the other, in advance, even if advance meant only a few minutes. Added: When informed, the partner could exercise a veto. There would be no discussion and the veto would negate any other provisions of the agreement. 

As we were just about to get back to normal, I pulled another boner and delayed the repair of our happy home for another couple of weeks. Cindy wasn't willing to just let things rest. She kept coming up with things to challenge my concept of Larry or to justify her thoughts about him. It wasn't a regular or steady thing, but it surfaced several times during the first two weeks at home. I had enough of Larry and was getting tired of him coming up in discussions.

One night, after the children were in bed, she brought him up again. It had been a tough day and I was tired. When Larry was introduced again, I responded that he was nothing but a low-life gigolo who would go to bed with anything. Cindy immediately tried to defend him and I told her. "Cindy please forget that asshole. We don't need him in our conversations anymore."

"Ron, I don't know why you have to be so pig-headed. He deserves more respect than you want to give him."

Then I put my foot in my mouth. "Cindy, the only reason that you want to defend him is that you can't believe that a man that is hung like a horse and pleases a woman like he does doesn't also have a string of wonderful characteristics. He is a walking, woman pleasing horse cock and nothing else." 

She screamed at me, "Ron, I never knew you could be so cruel and nasty with your talk."

Not knowing when to quit, "Well tell me, didn't you find being fucked by a horse cock quite thrilling?"

She stormed out of the room and we didn't speak for several days. However, the last exchange seemed to have done the job. I didn't hear about Larry anymore.

Things straightened out and all was well for about three months. Then things began to happen. Of course some of the things didn't appear to be of any consequence at the time.

* * * * * The Dots (unconnected) * * * * *

It was about three months after the reunion when friends of ours, from when we lived in Washington, were passing through town. They called shortly after I got to work and asked if Cindy and I could meet them for dinner tonight. I wondered why they had called me at work rather than calling Cindy at home. I finished what I was doing and then called Cindy to let her know. Cindy did not answer. I waited and called about an hour later, still no answer. It struck me as strange because we always let each other know of our whereabouts. If she had run to the grocery store, she surely would have been home by now.

I went home for lunch, as I often do. She was home and when I asked her where she was this morning, she apologized and said that she had to make a run to the department store for something (I don't remember now what it was). However, I had detected a little flush in her color when she answered and I knew something was out of place. Our friends had left a message on out answering machine and she either didn't take the time, or didn't have the time to listen to it. I had a strange feeling that she had not gotten home much before I did.

There was nothing of note for another five or six weeks. I returned from work one night and when I started into the house from the garage, I picked up a receipt from the floor. From its location it had to be something Cindy dropped. I glanced at it quickly and started for the door again. It didn't strike me right away, but suddenly I took another look. It was a parking receipt from the Sheraton hotel. I studied it a moment longer and determined that it had been issued at 11:15 this morning. The amount of the fee was for two plus hours. 

She had not indicated she was going anywhere today and I remembered that she had asked if she was going to see me for lunch. I had told her that I would be with a customer for lunch. Now my mind was kicking into overdrive. The Sheraton is no more that twenty minutes away so she would have been home for lunch if I had a change in plans. Something was strange.

When I went in, she was finishing supper preparations and gave me a cheery smile and big kiss. I didn't say anything about the receipt while we were eating. However, as a matter of conversation I had asked the kids about their day and received the usual long description of their activity. Then I asked Cindy how her day had been. She indicated that it had been fine. When I asked her what she had done, she looked down and I detected a reticence to say much. She described several activities, run of the mill, but never once mentioned having left the house.

Shortly after the kids were in bed, she announced that she was really tired and was going to bed. I was tempted to go with her, but I didn't. She was holding something back. I was beginning to have suspicions about what it may be, but I was afraid I might say something I shouldn't or something that was completely erroneous and decided to watch TV for a while. I was very troubled, but a parking receipt wasn't much of a story.

The issue faded in the next week or two and I put it behind me. That is until I was doing the bills one night. I have always managed our finances. I keep Cindy informed and have her work with me at times. I don't want her ignorant of our finances in case something were ever to happen to me. I generally scan the bills but don't review them in detail unless there is amount that seems to be different than normal.

Her cell phone statement usually has a string of local calls, and on an occasion one or two 800 number long distance calls. On rare occasions there will be an incoming long distance call. This time as I scanned, my vision came to rest on three incoming and two outgoing calls to the 414 area code. All were late afternoon calls, all were to and from the same number, all were made over a period of about a week just before the statement was closed out (a week ago). Strange.

I grabbed the phone book and looked up area code 414. When I found it, my blood ran cold. Milwaukee, Larry's city. What in the hell is going on? Cindy was out of earshot and I picked up the phone and dialed the number. Before it could ring, I hung up. If it was Larry's phone, and if he had caller ID, he would know where the call was coming from. I went to the bedroom and got my cell phone. I have blocked caller ID on it. I dialed the number again. The male voice that answered was Larry's. I disguised my voice and represented myself as calling from the Police Benevolent Association. I asked question just long enough to be absolutely positive it was Larry. 

I had to repress the urge to charge into the living room and confront Cindy. But, I didn't and after sitting for several minutes feeling sick to my stomach, I was able to pull myself together and begin to rationally think what I needed to do. The first thing I did was to pull out the statements for the months since the reunion. An outgoing and then an incoming call to Larry's occurred about a month after the reunion, I'm sure I hadn't picked them up because there were only two calls and they were separated by five other calls. On the next statement there was only one call. But the next statement had three calls. The first was obviously connected to the single call on the last statement and then two calls near the end of the statement period. 

All very interesting, but what did they mean and what was I going to do with them? When I reached a probable answer to the first question I became sick to my stomach. Her unexplained absences, the calls, her defense of him—were they having an affair? But when, where, how was it being done? Larry had no business in town that I knew of—else I would have known he was around. As I thought about it, I had an inspiration. Alan, one of my golf buddies, was an assistant manager at the Sheraton. Maybe he could help me.

The next day I called him and went to the hotel to meet him during my lunch hour. I explained what I was suspecting and then asked if he could tell me if Larry had been a guest during the past six months and if so, when. He said he could find that out. It would take about a day before he would have time to access the records.

It was near the end of the next day, Friday, and he delivered the information I requested. I had been praying that Larry would not be found as a guest. My prayers were not answered. Larry had been here three times for one night during the last few months. He gave me the dates and then concluded, "Ron I also need to tell you that he has a reservation here for next Tuesday night." I went cold as all sorts of things started to run through my mind. And then I asked, "Alan, would it be possible to see that he is put into a room where I could set up a camera?"

"He hesitated a minute and then, "Hey buddy, that would be illegal. I can't do that. (a pause) However, I have no idea how you came up with this idea, but if you were to reserve a particular room the day before and the day after he was here, and somehow he got assigned to that room, and somehow you forgot to take the cameras that you had with you..."

I picked up on his lead immediately. "Thanks Alan. How would you like for me to make the reservations so that there will be no problems?" He told me just to call the hotel and make the reservation, he would take care of the room assignments.

Later, when I checked the dates against the calls and Larry being here I found the first calls occurred about a month after the reunion and about ten days before Larry's arrival.—I had not detected anything at that time. The second set were about a week before our friends visit and Larry's appearance had been on that same day. The third of course were just a week ago and Larry was due in a few days. 

At home, after my discoveries, I found it impossible to act normal. I wasn't normal—my stomach hurt like I had never known before. I couldn't and didn't eat much and, of course, Cindy picked up on it. She waited until the children were gone and then she came and tried to sit on my lap. I wouldn't let her.

"Honey, what's wrong? I can tell that you are very troubled about something. Can you talk to me about it?. Maybe I can help you."

I didn't want to talk to her. But I knew that she was going to keep after me. So I decided to bait the hook. "It's nothing. Just a piece of the past that I don't like remembering."

"Like what?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll be alright."

"Ron, don't do this. Let's get it on the table and take care of it, whatever it is."

Pause. "OK. (pause) Well Jerry called today. He tried to act like it was just an ordinary social call. But (pause and deep breath) as the call went on he started to get serious and he finally told me he had been concerned over what happened in Washington and he (almost a whisper) just wanted to see if everything was alright between us. (She went white as a sheet) It just reminded me of that bastard Larry and those memories are not very pleasant and still very upsetting."

She started to say something, stopped, and then with tears starting, "Oh honey, I'm so sorry. When it happened I had no idea that it was going to hurt you. You know that I love you and the last thing I ever want to do is to hurt you." With that she broke into a full downpour and excused herself to the bathroom. 

I didn't know whether her actions indicated she was being truly sorry or whether I had just hit a guilty nerve. I didn't feel a bit better or know anything more than before and I just felt sick. Had I built up a case on a set of circumstances that in reality had no connection? I couldn't truthfully accept that. Should I confront her now? If she was having an affair, what good would a confrontation now do? I finally decided to just ride things out until after Tuesday. 

* * * * * Connecting the dots * * * * *

I made the reservations and then did my best to get through one of the worst weekends in my life. I kept telling myself that I had nothing concrete and that my speculation could be wrong. It didn't help and I just felt miserable. It was made worse by the children who quickly detected that something was wrong with Dad and wanted to know what it was. Of course, I couldn't give them a satisfactory answer. 

The situation was exacerbated by Cindy, who knew what the problem was and kept trying to reassure me that she loved me and telling me how sorry she was for not understanding my take on our agreement at that time. The only relief I had was that on several of these attempts to make things right I had thought to myself, 'If my suspicions are correct, maybe her seeing how hurt I have been over the Larry affair will cause her to rethink things and cancel her date with him.' Of course, if my suspicions were unfounded, I would have put myself through a lot of grief and torment over nothing. Unfortunately, the horrible suspicions held on tenaciously. 

Monday was hell. In the afternoon I took some rented surveillance equipment to the hotel, checked in, and then installed the equipment. Supper was worse than usual. Cindy got the children out of the way as soon as possible and then she came at me with all she had, trying to convince me of how sorry she was for what she had done and to reassure me of her love and wanting to get me to bed and show me. She pushed the issue to the point that I almost confronted her. Just before I did, she changed her tactic.

Standing with hands on hips and showing signs of irritation, "Damn it Ron. This has gone beyond the point of reason. You are making big deal over a misunderstanding whose consequences are not worth discussing. I made a mistake and had sex with someone else. My main mistake was doing it with someone you knew, and you don't know how sorry I am for that transgression. Yes, that was my stupid fault. But how long am I going to have to apologize for one stupid error? I hope our marriage is strong enough to withstand little mistakes that either of us may commit."

With that she broke down and burbled out in a weak voice. "I'm saying it for the last time: I'm sorry. Now I'm going to bed. 

I wanted to go to her, but I just couldn't. In the morning I was able to put on a false demeanor and look a little better than the past few days. Before I left, I decided to try one last thing to see if I could find some relief. As I was putting on my coat to leave, "Honey, I don't think things will be too stacked at the office so as soon as I can clear my desk, I'll come home and we can go out for lunch and talk."

She went white and I think her legs about gave out. "Oh.. Er Uh.. sweetie I have an appointment to have my braces adjusted this morning. You know how it is there, there is no telling how long I will be. Could you come home early this afternoon?"

"You hadn't mentioned an orthodontist appointment earlier."

"Sweetie, with all that has been going on the last few days, Dr. Schmidt has been the last thing on my mind. Normally I would call and cancel the appointment, but my mouth is hurting and I need the adjustment. Can't we get together this afternoon?"

"No, I'm sorry, but I have a meeting shortly after lunch. I don't know how long it will last." At this point I was no longer able to hide my feelings and I know she saw it but she averted her eyes and said, "I'm sorry sweetie. Maybe after the children are down."

I didn't say anything as I pecked her on the cheek and left. Going to work was a joke. I was doing absolutely nothing that counted. I considered going to the hotel and confronting them. I decided against that because I knew if I caught them, in rage, I might actually kill one or both of them.

I called at lunch time and was a little surprised when she answered. I noted that she seemed a little irritated about something. With her knowing I was occupied, why hadn't she possibly spent more time with the bastard? Then it came to me, check-out is eleven. I told her that I was going to be late and not wait dinner for me.

About mid afternoon I checked into the hotel and to the room. Thankfully it had been made up. I'm sure I would have turned physically sick if the remnants of the mornings activities were still there. As I was removing the cameras, there was a knock on the door. Looking through the peep hole I could see Alan. I opened the door and let him in. "Hi Alan. Thanks for helping out."

"You're more than welcome. I'm sorry about all of this. I hadn't seen her before, but today I did see Cindy come in."

"Thanks for the info. With what I believe I have here, the two of us are finished."

"I thought you would like to know that Larry got quite mad at me this morning. "

"How's that?"

"Well, it was not too long after your wife came in that he called the desk and wanted to extend his stay for another day. My clerk turned the request over to me when Larry started to become abusive. He was pissed off because he would have to change rooms. I told him this room had been specifically asked for and that we could not change it. He finally Accepted another room. When I told him I would send a bellman to help move, he immediately told me no. He could handle it himself."

I asked if he had seen them leave and he told me that Cindy left about four. Larry had also left but he didn't know when—it was after Cindy. I was puzzled. How had Cindy gotten back and forth so quickly. It didn't take a ton of bricks to fall—she had used call forwarding. There would be no record of the afternoon activities, but so what, I didn't need it.

As I finished removing the equipment I was being torn about looking at the videos. I had told Cindy that I would not be home for dinner, planning to look at the videos. Now I was not sure I wanted to see them right now. I needed to think about what I was going to do at this point. If the tapes showed what I thought (no, now what I really knew), I needed to find an attorney. There were no circumstances which could exonerate her and let me take her back. If the tapes showed nothing, that's a fat laugh, then I needed to set a few things straight and get us back on course. But I just couldn't bring myself to looking at them right now. I called Cindy and told her things had been canceled and that I would be home for dinner. Maybe I could detect something with her. 

On the way home, something from the past occurred to me. On the Monday after the reunion, Cindy had given in and gone for a check-up. That night she told me that the tests were negative. Wait just a damned minute now. They don't normally have results back the same day. I never saw a certificate, I had only her word. I called the doctor's office and ascertained that she had not been to the doctor at all. Her last visit had been for her annual physical about eight months earlier.

Fortunately, when I got to the house I found that the kids had gone to spend the night with friends. Tomorrow was a teacher work day and there was no school. I decided to take it slow. "How was your day?"

"It was fine. Nothing special except for being without kids tonight."

We talked about things in general while we got supper on the table. As we ate she finally looked over and asked if I was getting on top of my problem. "No, I can't say that I am. You are not doing much to help the matter."

She looked up in shock and asked what I meant by that.

"Why did you lie to me?"

With irritation, "What in the hell are you talking about now?"

"When we came back from the reunion, why did you lie to me about getting a checkup for STD's?"

More irritated and sputtering, "What are you talking about?" Her rapid switch to irritation told me that I was rubbing on raw nerves, nerves that were very close to the surface and recently exposed.




Buddies??



"OK Cindy, let's cut the shit. I talked to the doctor's office today and you haven't been there in eight months. In other words, you lied to me."

"Damn it to hell. I'm not going to take any more of your childish jealousy over Larry. Yes, I made a mistake. I have admitted to that. But you are not going to bully me. Your order that I get a checkup was totally uncalled for and there was no foundation for it. It was simply your childish way to try to punish me and vent your anger toward Larry. I'm sorry I lied to you, but you didn't leave me an option. Now if you can't get over this Larry thing, you need to go to some kind of counseling." 

She started to stalk off. Loudly. "Just a minute lady. Either you sit down and talk to me or we need to consider terminating this marriage."

My termination remark got through and she sat down.

"I have a major question. Why did you refuse to get the checkup and then lie about it? I think the answer lies in the answer to a more important and serious question. Whose word are you going to believe: Larry's or mine? On the surface it seems the answer must be Larry's. And why Larry's? I'm sorry, but the only answer I can come up with is that he is a good look, smooth talking, and has a very large cock."

She jumped up and screamed, "There it is. Your out of control jealousy for him. He is not what you try to make him out to be. He has always nice to me."

"Always been nice to you? What do you mean 'always."

After stammering a moment, "You know what I mean. When I was with him at the reunion he was very nice."

"Well, I'm not going to argue with you. It's time to put up or shut up. Our love making is over until you get a checkup. Just the way he operated behind my back at the reunion tells me he is still the slime bag that got tossed out of the Corps for sexual misconduct. I wonder how many times since then he has been treated and even more I wonder how he has avoided AIDs all this time. Believe me Cindy, what I am saying has nothing to do with jealousy it has to do with the health and welfare of my family. If that doesn't mean a thing to you, then it really is time to think of taking separate paths."

She sat looking at me with tears running down her cheek. I could see that she was in turmoil. Finally in something just above a whisper. "I'm sorry honey. I believe your motives, but I still believe you are wrong about Larry. I'll go see the doctor tomorrow." She came over kissed me on the cheek and headed for the bedroom. Over her shoulder, "Are you coming?"

"Not now. I brought some work home that I need to look at." I sat for a minute. I had just decided that I could not put off looking at the videos. Taking my briefcase, I went into the office, shut the door, retrieved the videos, put on the headset and started what I feared was going to be an excruciating exercise. I wasn't afraid of Cindy walking in on me. There is a built in warning system formed by several squeaking boards in the hallway. Unless you approach the office by jumping about six feet, you can't avoid them. 

About midnight I remembered something. I took out my cell phone and dialed our home phone. As I suspected, she had forgotten to turn off call forwarding. I could hear her cell phone ring in the kitchen. Instead of hanging up I just let it ring. In a few moments I heard footsteps in the hall and down the stairs as Cindy quietly exclaimed, "Oh shit." She said hello several times and then hung up. I quickly got up, went to the door, and as she reached the top of the stairs, "Is everything OK?"

"Yes, some idiot called my cell phone at this hour and then wouldn't answer—probably drunk. Good night sweetie. You coming soon?"

"In a while." 

Had it not been for the audio portion, I would not have watched all of the recordings. I wept a lot and wanted to kill someone. In the video she had sex in every possible manner. Unbelievably she deep throated almost his entire cock. They fucked twice, once with him unloading in her mouth as she slurped it up, and then in her pussy. There was no condom used at all and you could see that she was enjoying every bit of it.. Obviously, she was ignoring all aspects of our so-called agreement. 

The audio was bittersweet. Most of it was pure trash talk and some of it she was urging him on to fuck her like no one else could. The only slight high point was when he said to her, "If you love me, you'd try anal with me." Her response was, "Larry, I love your cock, but I don't love you." I was surprised. But I think the thing that bothered me most was that she was taking in every piece of bull shit he was offering. His line was so pathetic that it wouldn't make it in a "B" movie. How could she be so gullible?

At the end of the recording the conversation with Alan was captured and Larry gave Cindy the room number and told her to follow him in about five minutes. The remainder of the recording showed the housekeepers and an empty room. 

It was almost three before I finished and I didn't even try to go to bed. I went to the den and watched TV and must have dozed off around five. The next thing I knew I heard the alarm go off and in moments Cindy was there asking why I hadn't come to bed. I told he the truth—I was sick. She tried to get me to bed but I told her I needed to go to work. I needed to talk to someone and I called Jerry and bent his ear.

She called me shortly after eight and told me she had an appointment with the doctor at ten. By that time I didn't give a damn if she got checked. About eleven-thirty she appeared at my office. She was smiling and bouncing as she came in, "There, I've gotten the silly old test out of the way. They are expediting the work and will have the results late tomorrow afternoon. I told them you would pick up the results tomorrow. Now, does that make you happier and will you take me out to lunch?"

I simply nodded and took her out to eat. I had a hard time controlling myself while we ate. It was hurting to know our marriage was over. When she had bounced into my office, I had barely beat her as I had just come from the attorney's office to start the divorce process. The actual papers would take several days and I didn't want to wait, no I couldn't wait that long before letting her know what was going to happen. The attorney suggested that I give her a letter of intent to officially let her know what was coming. It would be ready tomorrow. Looking at her now just plain hurt.

After a terrible night of torment, I moved through robot-like actions at work. The attorney,s secretary called before lunch to tell me the letter was ready. Since it was close I went and got it. I almost didn't want to take the envelope and I cried on the way back to the office. The lab results were ready after three o'clock. I left work as soon as I heard.

I was shocked when I asked for Cindy's test results and the nurse told me that the doctor would be out in a minute to explain the results. I was even more shocked when he came out and ushered me into his office. After a moment of pleasantries he floored me with his first question. "Mr. Allran, when was the last time you had intercourse with your wife?

I won't repeat all of the exchange, but Cindy had tested positive for HIV. I collapsed and I was out for almost an hour. In our following discussion I told him what was going on and we determined that her infection was relatively new, definitely not old enough to go back to her last meeting with Larry. I was somewhat relieved being pretty sure she had not infected me. Never-the-less, I had the test made.

When I was finished, I had to call a friend from work to come get me. I was in no condition to drive. He wanted to take me home and I insisted on returning to my office. I sat quietly, contemplating the situation, and intermittently crying. At quitting time my friend drove me back to get my car. I was a mess with everything from deep despair, sorrow, rage, and yes, even suicidal thoughts. Instead of going home I went to a local bar. I wasn't planning to get drunk, and I didn't. I just needed more time to myself. 

About six, my cell phone rang. It was Cindy and I know she wanted to know where I was. At that point she could go to hell for all I cared. I turned the phone off and continued the usual wronged husband talk with the bartender. He didn't help, but it allowed me to gain some control of myself. About eleven I headed for the house. It was now a house, no longer a home. Earlier in the evening I had called my folks and asked them to care for the kids for a while—I'd bring them tomorrow and fill them in on things when I got there.

She had heard the garage door open and came screaming and crying into the garage asking where I had been and how worried she had been. She tried to grab me and kiss me, but I just pushed her aside. I told her to stop her damned crying and meet me in the rec room (basement), I'd be there in a moment. I followed her in and closed the doors that I could so as to not wake the kids. Then I went to the rec room, closing the door as I went. 

"Ron, Ron, what's wrong? What's going on? You're scaring me."

I didn't trust my voice. I simply pulled out the lab report and tossed in on the table in front of her. She looked at it and then I saw the panic and fear take over. Trembling, she reached for it. It took her a moment to comprehend what she was looking at and then in a muffled shriek, "Ron, this has to be a mistake. The lab has mixed something up."

She started to go on when I vehemently inserted, "I told you what could happen if you messed around with that slime bag. He's dirty again, and now, so are you." 

That brought her up short and in a slightly deflated voice, "What are you talking about?"

I couldn't contain my rage anymore. "Let me spell it out to you. That bastard infected you with AIDs when you fucked him all day on Tuesday."

"But Ron, I haven't seen..."

"Don't make it worse than it is you lying bitch. Quit your lying to me. May I ask how you can profess to love me and at the same time not be in the least concern that I could be infected too. You have shown me that your love for a big horse cock is more important to you than your family or your own health. I don't want to hear the word 'love' come out of your mouth again when you are around me, which isn't going to be long."

Almost screaming, "Ron, your wrong, I didn't..."

I did something I had never done before in my life. I slapped her. I slapped her so hard that she reeled back and flopped on the couch. Through her scream I shouted, "Shut your damned mouth," while I was speaking and loading one of the tapes into the player. I brought home a great movie that you need to see."

I don't know how much she was able to see, and I didn't care. I guess her continued lying was making it easier for me to complete what I had to do. "You will receive divorce papers in the next few days and I tossed the intent letter at her. As soon as you can get yourself together, get upstairs, gather what you need for overnight and than get your sorry ass out to a hotel."

"In the morning I'm taking the kids to my folks and I will be back Sunday afternoon. By the time I get back, you had better have gathered what you need for now and found some place to live. There's money in the checking account, but it won't do much. I have canceled your cards and I will take the copy of my card that you have before you leave."

"Oh Ron, the kids, I can't leave without telling them goodbye for now. And where shall I go."

"You are not going to see the kids. I only hope that they haven't been infected..." That brought a howl from her. I don't know if it was from not being able to see them or because she was frightened at the thought of infecting them.

"Cindy, At this point I don't know where you can go and I definitely don't care. (On the screen, she was riding him in the cowboy position.) Motioning to the screen, "Beautiful picture, don' you think. I can hardly wait for others to see it. Now get your slutty ass off the couch, get your stuff, and get out of here. You can come back after eight in the morning and you had better not be here when I get back Sunday evening. If you are, I'll physically throw your ass out."

"Oh, just to set things straight, I know he has been in town and you have been with him at least two, and more likely three times before Tuesday. Oh, yes, you need to know that that clumsy son-of-a-bitch that you have been fucking fell down another flight of stairs. He didn't come out as well this time and is expected to be hospitalized several weeks. Sit here and cry as long as you want to, but if you're not gone in an hour, I'll help you."

I turned, to her wails and pleading and went upstairs. I had never talked to anyone the way I had just talked to her, not even my fuck-ups in the outfit. I almost wanted to go back and apologize. Blowing my lid as I just had had provided a relief valve and by the time I reached the kitchen my stomach had almost stopped hurting. The disgust and rage were still there, but the cramps were fast disappearing. I heard the garage door open and close about forty-five minutes later.

FYI, I had the kids tested and all three of us had negative results.

* * * * * Eleven years plus * * * * *

Larry spent the last weeks of his life, in pain, and in the hospital. The night before he was to be released to a convalescence center, he had a visitor. He immediately smiled and said, "God it's good to see you. This is a pretty lonely place." Without a word the visitor came towards the bed and then he heard the sound of metal on metal and a pinging sound. Then he screamed his last words, "No! No!" The visitor took one more step, pointed a .45 cal. pistol at his head, and pulled the trigger. The aim on the first bullet was accurate and there was no need to waste a second.

Cindy stood trial and with my buddies providing background and character witness for her and describing Larry's character she was able to get a second degree manslaughter conviction in place of the 1st degree charges brought against her. She received a sentence of twenty years with possibility of parole after ten. She would have been eligible very soon.

The last two years in prison she was hospitalized as the AIDs slowly took over. One of the nagging questions I never have gotten a answer to is: How did she get the gun into the hospital and then how did she know how to use it? She was deathly afraid of guns. Of course, no one I knew had any idea how she did it.

I met and married Marlene five years ago. I can't tell you what a light she has been to my life and the kids. I also have to say thanks to Cindy. Cindy you ask?

Yes, Marlene stepped into the void created by the loss of a wife and mother. She knew the story of what had happened, and about a year after we married, she convinced me that Cindy had really drawn the short straw. She did not try to justify or defend Cindy, but she insisted that she deserved better than what she got in the end. Subsequently we visited her in prison every couple of months. 

On the first trips Cindy tried to make amends and apologize for everything. With Marlene's help we were able to terminate the recriminations. We all became friends and had some wonderful meetings. In these meetings Cindy was able to help me get over the terrible feelings and subsequent nightmares that I suffered. She had set about to make the world right for all of us. The only disturbing part was that she refused to see the kids. "I want them to remember me as the mother I had been."

On our visit, about a year ago, as Cindy was really starting to suffer the effects of the dread disease, she confided. "I have only one regret about the night I shot Larry. I wish I had turned the gun on myself." 

The last time we saw her was about a month ago. She was fading fast, and she knew it. She thanked us for our love and support. Her last words to us sent us both out of the prison in tears. "You two give our children all my love and take care of them. I love you all. And, please give my thanks to all your Marine buddies. They came to my defense when I needed them. I just wish I had listened to them to start with. I guess the proper thing to say now is, 'Semper Fi,' buddy." 

*

Author's Note

Ron has advised me that Marlene visited Cindy regularly once or twice a week for several weeks a few months ago. Ron had not been aware of the nature of the meetings until Marlene told him after Cindy's death. In the meetings Cindy told Marlene her story. Cindy couldn't write so she let Marlene tape her story. Marlene promised Cindy not to tell about the story or use it in any way until after her death. Ron has approved the release, and Marlene will be happy to write it from Cindy's perspective t if there are enough readers indicating they would like it. 

Let me know and I'll have her get started. (WTF, you don't need to reply, I already have your response on file)

BlBones