0 comments/ 18800 views/ 0 favorites Happy Trails By: latinstud I was chasing a nymph of the woods along a treacherous single-track. Pushing myself and my bike too the limited; if I never caught up to her, at least I was getting in a great workout. I saw a glimpse of a long pony-tail swishing in the wind when I peaked a ridge a couple of miles back. Man was she fast; I was having a hard time catching up to her. She had now been out of sight for too long so I was about to give up. But I was pleasantly surprised when I saw her after rounding a corner. Just about a mile away, she was off her bike and looking at it. I kept my feverous pace until I finally met up with her. I could not check her out because she was waiting for me, face in an “I-need-help” frown. “Hey, how’s your ride going?” I asked pulling up to her. “Awesome until this happened,” she pointed down to her bike. I quickly saw her broken chain. I dismounted and squatted to get a closer look. Doing so I let my eyes fall across her lean body encased in her tight lycra riding jersey and shorts. Gorgeous was the only thought in my head as I saw her firm breasts, enhanced by a very erotic sweat “V” formed in her cleavage. She had lowered the zipper of the jersey to reveal the top of her breasts, compressed by her tight jersey. My eyes continued down to her skinny waist, and followed the flare of her hips framing her stunning ass. Then her legs; oh, her legs: tanned, and muscled, with that beautiful tear-drop shaped quad muscle on top of each knee. It was obvious she was a serious rider. I quickly caught myself, after feeling a twinge in my crotch, and focused on the broken chain. “No problem, just a bent link. Must have hit it on a rock,” I told her. “I’ve got a tool that’ll fix it, at least to get you back to the trailhead. If you slow down.” She chuckled, “My savior, and to think I was trying to lose you. I saw you way back, and used you as a pace setter. Thanks for pushing me.” “No, thank you. You were my goal, and I caught you.” I smiled, keeping eye contact. She held the gaze until breaking it with a smile. I fetched the multi-tool from my saddle pack, removed the chain, and started to work on the bent link. We made small talk about our bikes, and the trail we were riding. Our conversation was humorous, and felt familiar. Her name was Staci, and she was heavenly. She made an effort to fix her hair, made physical contact by touching my shoulders, and back as I worked, and I caught her a couple of times taking my body in. More notably she was sitting directly in front of me, leaning back on her hands, knees bent up, waving them in an opening and closing oscillation spread, unknowingly (?) teasing me in this open pose. As I placed the chain back on the sprockets, she served the first innuendo. “My seat has been bothering me; maybe you can take a look at it next?” I looked at her face and saw a glint in her eye, with an ever so upturned smirk on her lips. I fired back my own double entendre: “You better let me take a look at your riding position, see if a can make your escapade more pleasurable.” I distinctly saw her pupils dilate. I was in. “Where are you being bothered?” We stood, and she turned her back to me. “Here,” her hands touched the very lower part of her ass, basically the part of her cheeks framing her back bud. How did she know I was an ass-man? I moved in, wrapped my arms around her, pulling myself against her, planting my lips on the back of her neck. She turned in my arms and our lips met. The kiss started strong, lips locked yet molding into each other’s. It slowly let up to just a brush of lips, nose tips touching as we each caressed each other’s faces. Instinctively our tongues came out. At the first contact we both brought our mouths together, tilting our heads in opposite directions. I sucked her tongue into mine, and tried to wrap mine around hers. Her hands dropped down to my ass; squeezing it, she moaned into my mouth. She continued feeling me until all too soon she broke our embrace. I was flying high, and smiling like a fool. “You want me,” she sang, “you’ll have to catch me.” Quickly, she straddled her bike, clicked in, and took off like a banshee. Still in a slight state of shock, I watched pedal for a second before my dick said: “What are doing; go get her!” I hopped on my bike and took after her. She was skilled and fast, dare I say better than me. She maintained about a 50 yard difference between us for about three miles of flat-out sprinting. We were slaloming through a rather thick tree grove when I heard an answered prayer: the snap of her chain and a shout of “SHIT!” Rolling closer towards her I saw her kick her bike over. She faced me with an angry look as I dismounted laughing. “I told you not to go all-out with that messed up chain.” “Fuck you.” “As you wish.” We locked lips again, and my hand made an immediate grab of her jersey’s front zipper. With no resistance, her zipper came down, as I followed the rapidly exposed flesh with kisses. Kneeling in front of her, I focused my mouth on her belly-button. Using broad swaths of tongue along with pointed jabs, I feasted on her salty flesh. Her hands guided my head with their grip on my helmet. I felt her body leaning on me for support. I wrapped my hands around her hips to grab that glorious ass. Getting my finger tips to the “bothersome” area, I massaged the area deeply, knowing I was stretching her back bud o-ring. I slyly tucked my thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and started to peel them down. My mouth covering any newly exposed area of flesh. After the first couple of inches Staci helped with the strip and pushed her shorts down with her hands. Just like me, she didn’t wear anything under her riding shorts. As soon as the short’s chamois pad was accessible, I buried my face, and sucked and inhaled in as much as possible. My senses were overloaded with the tastes and smells of her hard ridden crotch. “OH you nasty boy, come get the fresh stuff!” I helped her step out of her shorts, backed her against a tree, and dove in. The smell of her sweat mixed with her developing pussy quim was intoxicating. With a wide tongue I bathed her outer labia with cat licks. Her engorged inner lips immediately emerged and parted. Milky pussy quim was waiting for me, pooling on the edges of her hole. I plunged my tongue in as far as I could get it, scooping it out and letting it pool in my mouth. “Oh lover, that’s so good, eat my puss, I love that long tongue.” I sucked in her enflamed lips, flicking them rapidly while I held onto them, stretched, and pursed between my lips. I nuzzled my nose into her baby smooth mound. She must have just shaved this morning, and there was a cute mole exposed that would otherwise be hidden. My tongue plunged into her again. Fucking her with it, I pulled her clit’s hood up with my fingers, uncovering a pencil-eraser sized nub. “Yes, lick it, take me in your mouth and lick it,” she pleaded. I wrapped my lips around her nub, and plunged two twisted fingers into her. Rotating my wrist while going in and out of her pussy, I finger-fucked her, while giving her pointed licks along the length of that raging clit. Staci’s hand ripped my helmet off, and grabbed my sweaty hair, pulling me hard into her. “Fuck Yes, here I cum, uh, here I cum,” I was almost suffocating as she held my head against herself. Standing on her tippy toes, knees bent, her hips began to buckle. “Ah yes, AH YES!” I grabbed one leg behind her knee, raised it up against her body, and braced her against the tree with my face. Her pussy quim was flowing copiously into my thirsty mouth as her orgasm was overtaking her. At her apex she pushed my head away, to sensitive for me to touch. I sat back, my erection trying to escape from my tight bike shorts, enjoying the show of her hands pressing on the outsides of her pussy, its lips rhythmically flexing with after-shocks, and her body quivering as she leaned back on to the tree. She opened her eyes and told me to get my shorts off. My dick sprang out, swelled thick, veined and purple, once released. Staci lay on some soft needles and beckoned me to enter her. At our first cock-to-pussy contact, she winced, still overly sensitive. I took this as a cue to enter slowly, painfully slowly. I stayed on my knees, control my depths into her, careful not to bump her nub. After a few control paces she told me to fuck her. I lay over her, her hands on my waist, only our hips and mouths touching. “Fuck me, Brad. Fill me with your cum,” she was almost begging. I thrust my hips in a long and forceful rhythm. But just as I started a yell came out from behind us: “Woo-Hoo! Ride ‘em cowboy!” The biker cheered us on as he rode by on the trail we were lying next to. Then a second and third came racing by, egging us on. Then, to top things off, two more howled and yipped as they glided by. We started laughing together thinking how we must have looked, Staci with her legs draped over my ass, as I mooned the approaching riders. She reached up to my face, pulled me in and gave me a deep, meaningful kiss. This quickly pulled my attention back to her, and solely her. Our tongues wrestled in her mouth. I scooted my body up, increasing the downward angle of my pumping cock. Feeling the stretch on the top part of my cock, I felt my balls swell up. “I’m cumming beautiful, I cumming!” I exclaimed. “Fill me lover! Fill me with your passion!” I pumped my cum into her as I sucked on her tongue. We stayed connected like that until we heard a shout in the distance from our past audience. This brought me to a giggle, and I broke our kiss. Staci looked into my eyes demurely. I smiled, and slowly withdrew my half-hard cock. Staci curled up and took me in her mouth. Not sucking to hard, she drained the last of my cum, and licked our combined cum off my coated cock. Being very gentle, but driven, she cleaned me spotless. She rose to her feet, helped me up, and planted her lips on mine. We shared our fruit that she had kept in her mouth. I did not hesitate to swap flavors with her, and took control of our kiss, burying my tongue deep in her mouth. My dick felt like it was swelling again when she took it in her hand. But she said, “We better get out of here before someone else rolls by.” We chuckled as she pulled my shorts up, and paid extra attention on tucking my cock in just right, giving it a little pet after pulling her hand out of my shorts. She pulled her shorts back up, and I helped her slip her jersey on. I pulled the zipper up across her chest. “Well, your chain is done,” I stated looking at the snapped link, “and we have a long hike ahead.” She smiled, grabbed my hand, and we started hiking along the trail. We had about a ten-mile hike to get back, and we both cursed our luck after an hour how we had not seen another biker just when we needed one. We talked the whole time, which made the time pass fast. We peaked the last hill that overlooked the trailhead parking lot at sunset. I pulled Staci to a stop, put my arms around her, and kissed her lightly. We broke apart, looking deep into each other’s eyes. Without a word we walked a little off the trail, this time out of sight, and embraced again. After I zipped her jersey down, my hands peeled her shorts down once again. She wriggled her hips helping me slide them off. Staci removed her jersey, letting her beautiful C cups jiggle out. I stood, removed my jersey, and freed my rapidly plumping cock. I pulled her close, and laid us down, her on top. She started grinding her pussy on my cock until I was fully hard. She reached down, position my cock at her entrance, and with one smooth, continuous push I was in all the way. She swayed effortlessly, keeping me fully in her, softly grinding her bare mound on my small bush. Her pace was slow, not wanting to rush an orgasm, just enjoying our connection. Our mouths stayed connected, exchanging deep, wonderful kisses. The taste from our first tryst still lingered on our tongues. My hands were on each breast softly stroking, tickling her areolas. Her tiny nipples erected to my touch, I broke our kiss to flick one of them with my tongue. Using a feather touch on it, her nipple seemed to get as hard as a diamond. “Ooo, suck it lover,” she gasped in a whisper. I encircled it with my mouth, sucked in, and continued to barely flick it. Staci’s pace picked up. She was now slightly rising herself up and down my cock along with her grinding motion. She grabbed the back of my head; I increased the rate and force of my nipple worship. Not wanting to leave the nipple left out, I began to pinch and pull it. This took her to the next level. She sat up straighter, pushing her mound forcefully into my pubic bone. “Oh lover, this is so good. I love your big hard dick.” She was controlling its depth and angle; its head banging against her cervix. I curled myself up to take her nipple in my mouth again. “Fuck, that’s it. Uh-huh, right there stud, fuck me right there.” I held my position, an ass cheek in each hand, spreading them so a finger could tease her brown bud. She was riding me hard, my mountain lioness in heat, animalistic grunts emanating all the way from her gut, as she came, and came again. Staci released me, pushed me down, and spun around, riding me reverse cowgirl. Before I put my hands back on her ass I fully savored it, incredible: bubble-shaped yet hard, muscular yet all feminine. I grabbed those amazing cheeks and helped her grind back and forth. “Oh beautiful, that’s it,” I told her, watching her puckered brown bud winking at me with each thrust. “MMM, I want to cum again. AH, I’m going to cum again!” Having heard that, she rose off my cock, scooted her incredible ass backwards, and lay on top of me, 69ing. My cock twitched when her mouth engulfed my slick cock. She moaned on it as my mouth encircled her pussy. She grabbed my balls: pulling, rolling, rubbing, milking them for all they had. The taste of her delicious cream pie was too much for me. All that love elixir rolling on my tongue shot a nerve pulse straight to my cock. Without warning I began to fill Staci’s mouth and throat with my cum. She never broke her seal around it, and started another cum for herself as I sucked on her pussy, screaming into her sex as my cock erupted. Pushing our hips into each other’s faces as we released our juices. I was spent, but incredibly high. Staci rolled off me, kissed my body as she came up to my chest. Resting her head on her hand there she asked, “Do it again tomorrow?” “The trail, yes. You, in a couple of hours, my beautiful wife.” Happy Trails Fighting tears of frustration, I climbed the bus steps with my oversized backpack and a crumpled hamburger bag. I was embarking on an eight-hour ride from my parents’ Maryland home back to my university in Ohio. The station was closed, I had nearly taken the wrong bus, and I had forgotten to bring my paperback novel. By the time I boarded at the last possible minute, all of the seats were filled with families, old folks and other college students. I squeezed my way to the back of the noisy bus where there was one vacant seat in the next-to-last row. I flopped into the seat and tried to calm down, mechanically flashing my seat mate a tight smile. As I took deep breaths, I could feel his gaze, and a moment later I really looked at him. “Hi.” “Hi,” he replied with a sly grin. He was about my age, probably another student. He had a trendy goatee and black earlobe-length hair like a wet seal. His exotic eyes were black and long-lashed and he had a narrow, golden-brown face. He looked like a young pharaoh. He looked like my first boyfriend. For the first hour we rode sitting upright, not speaking, not touching. I kept giving him sidelong glances through a blonde curtain of hair. I had a navy wool overcoat; he had a black leather jacket. We used our coats as blankets and to define soft, polite barriers. The boy smelled…not good, exactly, but not bad, either. He smelled like leather and laundry and cigarettes, and like a slightly exotic young man who’d been on a bus all day. After a while, he shifted so that his knee lay touching mine, but I didn’t move away. It felt pleasantly cozy. We both relaxed into drowsy boredom and our bodies seemed to flow gradually together. Our coats began to overlap. By the time I fell asleep, my mind drifting through disjointed sexy images, I could feel the entire length of his body against mine. Hours later, we both woke with a start when the bus pulled into a station. We blinked at each other like newborns and I sat up, embarrassed. I had been leaning against his shoulder as we slept; had he noticed? Finally, he spoke again: “How far now to Pittsburgh?” “About an hour, I think. Is that your stop?” “Yes, I’m going back to school. Where are you going?” “Cleveland. I’m returning to school, too.” He smiled and looked out the window. I looked at his cheekbones. A few minutes ticked awkwardly by. I was wearing a soft, grey turtleneck that clung to my breasts, and on a naughty whim, I stretched extravagantly, pushing my breasts up as half a dozen pairs of young male eyes homed in. Without looking at me, the young man stretched his left arm, the one closest to me. He put his hand on the seat between us, next to my ass. I could feel his fingertips just brushing my denim-clad thigh. When I didn’t move away, his fingers crept under my ass cheek a bit, casually, still as if by accident. I didn’t move or look at him, but my heart began to beat faster. He took his hand away, and I inwardly moaned with frustration. A moment later, he leaned toward me and cupped my breast, still studiously gazing off to one side. I quickly assessed the situation. I was bored and horny and a stranger had his hand on my breast. I could decide to make a big noisy fuss, or I could decide to reciprocate. He sighed as my hand slid across his thigh. We kissed briefly, tongues fluttering, while he worked his hand under my shirt, the better to maul my breasts. I was really warming up to the kiss now, and I squirmed as I felt my panties begin to grow damp. In a flash, the chalky darkness gave way to the harsh green lights of a tunnel. Startled by the spotlight on our clandestine activities, we pulled away. The green strobe lasted for an eternity of seconds, long enough for me to see some appreciative smirks on the faces around us, then it was dark again. I arranged my big coat over us. He grabbed my hand and pulled it into his lap, and I stroked his cock through the straining fabric of his khakis. He moaned and unzipped his fly, and my hand began softly milking him. His cock was smaller than my boyfriend’s and thin, with a round head. I stroked him for a few minutes and he began to fumble at the zipper of my jeans, but I stopped him; I knew we didn’t have much time before the Pittsburgh station. I smoothed his slippery fluid around the head of his cock, squeezing gently, and fretted my fingers along the ridge underneath. He pulled roughly at my tit with one hand, and the other hand gripped the armrest for dear life. My mind buzzed with shame and glee. I was jerking off a stranger on a Greyhound bus -- how delightfully sordid! It amused me to think how we must seem to the people around us, as two distinct and anonymous bodies suddenly entangled in a brief sexual flurry. Now he was panting and pinching my nipple hard, thrusting his pelvis toward my busy palm. Suddenly he stopped thrusting and gave a low growl, and I felt his semen flow over my hand. As he tried to catch his breath, he gently wiped my hand on his shirttails. The bus pulled into the brightly lit garage as we tidied our disheveled hair and clothing. He leaned forward onto the seat in front, resting his head on his forearms. I looked straight ahead, smirking, while a heard of flushed college boys bolted from the bus. When they had all gone, my seat mate collected his belongings and squeezed past me. “Goodbye. Thank you,” he whispered as he stooped to kiss my hair. “Happy trails,” I replied, smiling and shaking his hand goodbye with my sticky one. Happy Trails...now Fuck off! Authors note I might suggest that those of you who don't enjoy my stories exercise your right to stop at this point. We'll miss you to be sure, but I am certain this way we can avoid all the ugliness in the comments section. I understand, appreciate and welcome constructive criticism. Good and bad. It may be that I am a poor writer (perchance that is why the only writing I do is for pleasure and shared freely) and while it is true that I would like to improve I have no plans to give up my day job to pursue this full time. I am not going to spend hours researching family law in the different states to appease someone's sense of authenticity. I just don't care. I purposely write my stories full of ambiguity and exclusively from the man's perspective. I don't see that changing anytime soon. Please comment accordingly...or better yet, write a better story than I have! ********* Trish, This will be the last time you hear from me and I ask that you never contact me again either unless it's an emergency related to the kids. An EMERGENCY related to the KIDS. Understand? I gave you 27 years of my life and you shit all over it so you don't get to be in it anymore. I know that we'll have to attend some of the same functions; marriages, christenings etc. but I expect that you will keep to yourself. I will not acknowledge you in any way but I won't be the bad guy ruining those days that will be special to our children. I have spoken about this to both Chris and Amy so they are aware of the situation. Keep to yourself and I'll do the same. You'll never win me back and I have no interest in appeasing your guilt any further. I don't need "closure" as you put it. I got all the closure I needed when I kicked you out and shut the door. I don't need more details on the why's, how's and who's of your betrayal. I don't care if it was one affair or if you slutted around for the entirety of our marriage. Once was enough and no, I will not forgive you. Let those sorry-assed, hippy therapists forgive you. I can't and won't and I am just fine with that. It won't cause me any more anxiety to withhold forgiveness for the rest of my life. I didn't do anything wrong. I wasn't the perfect husband but I didn't deserve what you did. So, yeah, you can just live with it. The one thing I will give you is a response to some of the things you wrote in your letter to me. I thought about just ignoring it; I didn't even read it for a long. I laughed when I did finally read it and decided I'd address some of your points, just for fun. First of all, no, it didn't just happen. That's a lot of horseshit and it's about time you admitted it. It's not like you were just minding your own business one day and suddenly found yourself naked in a hotel room with a strange cock thrusting in and out of your sloppy cunt. In your letter, you told me you were unhappy, that being empty-nesters scared you and that Greg offered you a sympathetic ear and compassion. News flash, Trish unhappiness and fear don't cause infidelity. Being unfaithful causes infidelity. You could have spoken to me about your unhappiness and fears. You should have, but you didn't. It just happened? I don't think so. Drunken one-night stands might just happen, they are spontaneous, affairs aren't; they require planning and decision-making. In your case, 14 fucking months of deciding, planning and lying. So yeah, go fuck yourself on that one, Trish! How did I find out? Not that it's important, really but it is a little of a cliché. I came home earlier than expected. Yup, I came home early from my trip. You weren't expected back for another 3 days from yours and I was a couple of days early. I managed to catch the flu and decided to leave the conference early. When I got home, I unpacked and thought I'd send you an email before going to bed to let you know I was home sick and sleeping. You really should have remembered to log out of your facebook account. Yeah, right there on the screen in front of me I saw the chats with your lover. It didn't take me long to figure out the password to your email account and get a little more detail. If I thought I was sick before I was really ill after reading all of your gooey email and facebook exchanges. Not to mention the picture exchanges you nasty slut! At that point I was sure glad you had to be out of town on business. I think I would have killed you if you'd been home. Instead I made reservations to an expensive spa in New Mexico and sent you an email inviting you to meet me there for the weekend. I called a security company and scheduled a time for them to change the locks, opened new bank accounts, moved some money around and once I knew you were in New Mexico I cancelled all of our joint credit cards. I made an appointment with a lawyer and was lucky enough to get in that next afternoon. I copied the emails and facebook messages between you and Greg and decided I was going to forward them to Greg's wife and everyone in your email contact list and both of your facebook friends lists. Oh and yes, I sent some of them to the kids (none of the pictures though, I spared them that); I just didn't think you would be truthful with them so yeah I felt compelled to do that. After all it turns out you are a first class liar with no conscience whatsoever and I wasn't about to let you whitewash the truth or worse, make me the bad guy. My lawyer advised me to put half of the money back in our joint accounts, so I did and then used your half to pay off our bills - oh and to hire a couple of escorts - what's good for the goose, right Trish. Best present you ever gave me by the way! Sue me if you want, bitch but I won't just give it back to you. I'll gladly pay the legal fees to drag it out in court. JUST.TO.PISS.YOU.OFF! I'm surprised that you didn't figure things out when I didn't join you in New Mexico and that you were unable to get a hold of me? I know it must have cost you a small fortune to reroute your flights and pay for the spa but well, you see, you cheated on me you worthless slag and it gave me a couple of extra days to get shit taken care of. By the time you flew home, I was ready. No, I will not apologize for having you served at the airport. I wanted you to know the gig was up before you decided to come to the house and yes, I did take a two week cruise at that time...I needed to heal after all. You have no idea what goes on on these cruises! Seriously great places to get laid! You are right I probably should have made arrangements for you to get some of your stuff out of the house before I left but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. I had just found out my wife was a lying, cheating slut and it really was a shock to me. Sorry you had to buy a lot of clothes and get a hotel room but I really don't see why you think I should pay for that. Shall I try to recoup the money you spent on hotel rooms etc. fucking your asshole lover? We can do that dance if you like. Yes, I insist that the reason for the divorce be filed under adultery because that is exactly why I am divorcing you. I know our state is no-fault and that irreconcilable differences is less costly and quicker but I'm in no hurry, cost is of no importance and you know how I feel about honesty. And while it is true that we do have differences that are irreconcilable, you want to fuck around and I can't reconcile that, I think Adultery is just MORE honest. Ha, I made a joke, did you catch it? Besides, I want it in the public record. You're a lying whore and I want that to be official. Put on your big girl panties and live with it. And, yes, all of your friends, family and coworkers now have written and pictorial evidence of your infidelity. Was it absolutely necessary? No, but it sure felt good. More of the medicine I need to heal. I really laughed hard when you asked me why I decided to destroy Greg's marriage by telling his wife about your affair and letting her have copies of your email and facebook exchanges. You're delusional. I didn't destroy her marriage; you and Greg did that by rutting like pigs in cheap hotels. I simply let her know what was going on so she could make an informed decision as to how to deal with her marriage. Personally, I hope she destroys him. No, I will not see you or speak with you. No, I will not forgive you and no I definitely will not try to work on our marriage. I was working on it all by myself the whole time you were fucking around and now I'm done. No to counselling -- that will only prolong my pain and appease your guilt so I won't ever agree to that. Just another example of you only thinking of yourself. And really beyond easing your guilt what do you see us having after that? A loving, friendly relationship pillared by respect, honesty and trust? Please! I will never trust you, you didn't respect me, we'll never be friends, I don't love you and you are incapable of being honest even with yourself. There is no scenario I can think of that will see us back together. Ever. Go by yourself. Go with Greg. Just go. Maybe you're telling me the truth that Greg was the only one. I'll never know for certain and I certainly won't believe anything you ever tell me. And quite honestly, it makes no difference to my future. You fucked one guy once - you're done. Just so you know, I did have had DNA tests done to ensure that I am indeed the father of our children. I am. I hate to think what I would be capable of doing to you if it turned out otherwise. Yes, I loved the wife I thought I had but no, I don't love you. I still love the woman I thought I married but that isn't you. I'm not sure if she left, died or never was but I do know that YOU ARE NOT HER. And for the record, I don't believe it when you say you love me and never stopped loving me. That just can't be true given what you did to me. How is it possible to love someone and then betray them so completely? You clearly have no idea what love is, which is another good reason for me to move on. I'm sorry to hear that your relationship with the kids is strained but I won't do anything to help you there. You made your bed... Maybe they'll come around one day. Maybe they won't. That's up to them. I haven't told them one untrue thing about you and I promise that will never change. If you want them to think better of you, I suggest you BE better. Try that on for a change. Just sign the papers, Trish. If you insist on counselling, I will simply drop the petition and we still won't get back together. If you then file and insist of remuneration I will counter sue again on the grounds of infidelity. We can go around and around and around and we still will not be together. I don't love you. I don't like you. I don't want you. Fuck off! Happy Trails! Steve