3 comments/ 12566 views/ 4 favorites Mike's Story By: FerdGerfel This story is a fantasy based on actual events. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. My name is Mike, and this is my story. I was a total geek growing up. I got straight A's. I spent Friday nights playing board games with my family. I secretly wanted to act, but I found myself in charge of lighting at all of the school plays. I tried to sing but I was tone deaf. I was tall, about 6'1, but only 150 pounds. I was a beanstalk, lanky and awkward, awful at sports, and invisible to women. I stayed home and went to my local college. Financially it was my only choice. I worked at a movie theater all summer to make a little money. Sweeping the floors sucked, but the movies and popcorn were free. As a lark, I signed up for a weightlifting class my first semester in college. I had to take two athletic electives, and nothing really appealed to me. I was surprised to find myself enjoying it. Before I knew it I was working out five days a week. I put on 50 pounds during that semester. You heard me right. Fifty pounds! I never had much of an appetite but working out made me hungry. Frequent exercise in turn helped turn all of that food into muscle. By the end of the semester, I had gone from a wallflower to a hunk. Those weren't my words; they were my big sister's. I could tell that women's attitudes towards me had changed. For the most part women had never noticed me at all, and when they would look at me they were looking right through me. Now they were looking at me, and although I enjoyed the attention, I really didn't know what to do about it. I was still working at the movie theater by the end of my freshman year, but I decided I wanted to try something different. I saw that my local bank was looking for tellers. I applied and passed the tests. I was hired as a full-time teller. The money was better than sweeping up popcorn for minimum wage. I was even able to work my schedule around the "bankers' hours," signing up for late afternoon and evening classes so that I could continue to work full-time while I pursued my business degree. Anyway, back to women. You probably knew already that bank tellers are predominantly women, so when a hunky male teller showed up all of the female customers would try to get waited on by me. When the lines were long I would take a peek and see them mentally trying to figure out if their turn would put them in line to be waited on by me. It was kind of embarrassing, really. A lot of these women were my parents' age, if not older. I smiled my best smile and tried to sell them on whatever promotion we were running. I got my first girlfriend during my sophomore year. I met a freshman in my astronomy class, of all places. We got matched up to work on a project, and we got friendly. She invited me to her dorm room to work on it. She was tall and gorgeous, intelligent and funny. I was still thinking like a lanky geek, that a woman like this would have no interest in me. It was only after the fact that I realized that she was all but throwing herself at me. She would lean in close to me, and touch my arm while she was talking to me. I thought she was just being friendly. After studying one Wednesday night we went for a walk around campus. It was a breezy October evening. We stopped in front of the science building. I remember we were staring at each other. I was watching her long brown hair blowing in the breeze. "Mike," she said, "Do you like me?" "Of course I do," I replied. I had no idea what she was talking about. I really thought she meant as friends. All of a sudden she kissed me. I responded eagerly, if not clumsily. I was an awful kisser at first, she later told me, but I got better. We became completely obsessed with each other. It seemed like every spare moment I had I spent in that dorm room with her. We kissed and kissed and kissed. I would leave her room late at night, a smile on my swollen lips. After a couple of weeks during one of our heated make out sessions she suddenly broke our kiss and said, "Aren't you going to touch my breasts?" She didn't have to ask me twice. I reached down and took a hold of her young, perky B-cup breasts through her sweater. Third base followed a month or so later. We didn't always have the time or the privacy that we would've liked to explore each other, so we started doing it surreptitiously in public. I don't think either of us were exhibitionists, really. I certainly wasn't looking to be seen or get caught. If her roommate was around we would pretend to be cold and snuggle under the covers. Soon I would feel her hand fumbling its way into my jeans. She would find my dick and take hold of it. I would slide my hand into her jeans and work my middle finger down between her pussy lips. And we would sit like that for hours. Neither of us would bring the other to orgasm. We would just enjoy the feeling of being naughty, with a hand on each other's genitals. Her roommate went home every weekend, so as soon as we were comfortable enough I started spending the whole weekend there. I lied to my parents and told them I was at my best friend's house studying and playing video games. I don't know why I felt a need to lie. I was an adult after all. I guess I just didn't feel like getting a lecture about moving too fast with this girl. Those first nights together were thrilling, getting hot and sweaty under the covers. Soon we were just in our underwear. I would press myself up against her while we kissed, me in my boxers and Janine in her panties. We were both virgins and not quite ready to go all the way yet, so dry humping was how we got our jollies. One night I finally got too excited and went over the edge, grunting as I came in my boxers. I collapsed against her. Janine didn't even realize what had happened. "What's wrong?" She asked. "I had an accident," I replied sheepishly. Janine wasn't sure what I meant, but suddenly she felt wetness against her. In her naiveté she actually thought that I had peed or something. She started pushing away from me. "I came," I said to her. "I had an orgasm." "Oh," she said, realization dawning on her. "Oh!" I slid off of her. Luckily I had brought spare underwear with me. Once that barrier was broken I would come against her frequently. Walking around with cum-filled underwear was never comfortable, but you get used to it after a while. I never knew if Janine orgasmed or not. I would constantly ask her if she was satisfied and she would always say she was. She went home during winter break. We talked on the phone and emailed and texted and instant messaged. She got permission to have me come spend a weekend with her, but I ended up getting really sick right before I was supposed to go. I was too desperate to see her to let it stop me, though. I arrived at her door just as I completely lost my voice. After a few hours Janine's parents had to put me right back on the train. It turned out I had strep throat. I had let it go unchecked to the point that my throat had gotten infected and it took a ton of antibiotics and the rest of winter break to recover. But I had sacrificed my health to see her. How romantic was that? In the spring we started talking about having sex. We would go out to dinner and sit there and talk about it. Believe it or not I was the more hesitant one. I was worried about potential consequences. "Don't worry," Janine said, "We'll use condoms and I'm on the pill. There's virtually no chance of me getting pregnant." Eventually I agreed. The sex itself wasn't great. Neither of us had any idea what we were doing, but the thrill of losing our virginities made it great. I wanted to experiment and try new things, but all Janine seemed to want was missionary sex. I wanted to try different positions, oral sex, role playing, and various fetishes that I had, but Janine didn't want to try anything different. The spring semester ended and she moved back home. We weren't able to see each other too often and started to grow apart. We were still together in the fall but we were just going through the motions. Finally after just over a year together, Janine broke up with me. I was heartbroken. I knew we had problems but I was hoping that we could work through them somehow. Unfortunately neither of us really knew how. I decided to try to move on as quickly as possible. I was really looking for a rebound, but I didn't think of it that way. I thought of it as finding somebody else to be with, quickly. In the end I didn't have to look too hard. I was being flirted with all the time at work. Eventually a particularly bold customer went ahead and asked me out. She was an older woman, in her mid-twenties while I had just turned 20. She wasn't really my type. She was into drinking and clubbing and had tattoos and other things that were completely foreign to me. I might have looked like a jock, but I was still a geek at heart. She was clever enough to meet me on my own terms, though. On our first date we went bowling, on our second we went mini-golfing, and when we went to the movies for our third date we went to the latest comic-book turned summer blockbuster, which turned out to be a complete disappointment, of course. Eventually she talked me into going to a bar with her. I reluctantly agreed. I knew it wasn't really my thing, but I was young and out to try new things, so why not? We arrived and she ordered a drink. She gave me a sip. It tasted horrible. I had tried beer and wine up to that point, and found it all disgusting. I couldn't see the appeal of alcohol. I was still underage, anyway, and so I just let this woman drink to her heart's content. There was a dance floor and techno music booming, and she dragged me out to dance. I only danced at weddings, and I was completely out of step with everyone. I was doing a lot of white man's overbite while everyone else gyrated against each other. Anna tried rubbing up against me a few times but all it did was throw me off my precarious rhythm. Eventually she gave up trying to dance with me. "Wanna get out of here?" She asked. I readily agreed. I wasn't sure how inebriated she was and whether or not I should try to take her keys away from her, but she seemed fine driving home. We got back to her place. It was after midnight. We had already decided that I would spend the night there since I didn't want to come home so late and disturb my family. I changed into a t-shirt and shorts for bed and Anna wore an oversized t-shirt and a pair of ratty looking gym shorts. We climbed into bed. "I don't want to pressure you into anything," Anna said, "So goodnight." She rolled over and pretended to go to sleep. I lay there for a few minutes in the darkness. Sure, I was still getting over Janine, I thought to myself, and I wondered how compatible I was with Anna, but here we were in bed. Was I really going to let this opportunity pass? I turned towards her, staring at her bare neck below her short blonde hair. She had a Chinese symbol tattooed below her left ear. What was I doing with a tattooed woman anyway? I shook off my apprehension. I tentatively leaned over and kissed her neck. I could hear Anna exhale sharply. I kissed my way around the exposed skin of her neck. Eventually Anna turned and our lips met. We kissed and kissed. I stayed beside her and continued to explore her body with my left hand. I slid it below her oversized shirt and touched her breasts. They were larger but less firm than Janine's. I explored the different contours and textures, and went back and forth, making one nipple grow hard, then the other. All the while Anna and I kissed hungrily. I got my fill of her breasts and began to tentatively slide my hand down her soft belly. I met with no resistance. I found I had easy access to Anna's pussy through the leg holes of her shorts. I slid my hand inside and a finger into her pussy. The response was immediate. "Mmm... ahhh..." Anna moaned into my mouth. After a minute I felt her hand join mine. She was rubbing herself furiously, grunting and bucking her hips. I suddenly realized she was having an orgasm. This had never happened with Janine. I was fascinated. "Did you just orgasm?" I asked her. "Mmm hmm..." Anna gasped, still trying to catch her breath. "Wow!" I said, "I've never seen that before!" Anna laughed. I asked her what she was doing to herself. "I was rubbing my clit," she replied. "Here, feel," she said, taking my hand and placing it a couple of inches above the entrance to her pussy. I could feel the hard bit of flesh in between the folds of her pussy. Understanding dawned on me. Sex Ed classes didn't exactly spend a whole lot of time on how to bring a woman to orgasm. I stared at the diagrams for a long time but the actual location of the clitoris was still somehow a mystery to me. Janine had always insisted that she was satisfied and frankly resisted my efforts to explore her, so please don't judge me too harshly. If you're going to judge anything, judge the strict catholic upbringing that Janine had. The poor girl was too terrified of going to hell to explore herself or experiment sexually, and as a result our combined lack of knowledge and experience caused us to miss this important bit of human sexuality. I made up for lost time with Anna. I started rubbing her clitoris myself, soon bringing her to another orgasm. By morning I had made her cum five times, all by rubbing and rubbing that special little spot. I wouldn't even let Anna touch me. It was like a new toy for me and it was all I wanted to play with. I left Anna later that morning feeling like a sex god, like a Hugh Hefner or something. My time with Janine was all about love and intimacy. My time with Anna was all about sex and exploration. Anna insisted on thanking me our next time together with a blow job. Janine was dead set against oral sex. Once I had kissed and licked my way up her legs and right up to her pussy but she pushed my head away. Her lips never traveled below my belly button. I was a little hesitant to try oral sex with Anna because I thought things were moving too fast, but I was excited about sexual exploration, so in the end I let her do it. She had me strip naked and lay down on the bed, my penis already hard with anticipation. She climbed onto the bed beside me and took me in her hand, giving me a few strokes. Next she leaned down and put her mouth on me. I gasped. I heard a few male friends rave about blow jobs, but I didn't realize exactly how good it would feel. Anna was experienced, too. She knew how to lick and tease and suck but not so much that I would blow my load too soon. When she was ready for me to cum she took me deep into her mouth and swallowed my cum. She hurried off to the bathroom to clean up while I lay there in afterglow, a goofy grin on my face. On our next date I decided I would return the favor. We had gone out to dinner together and decided to be fancy about it, and so Anna was wearing a black dress with black stockings. I found that I had a stocking fetish, as I couldn't stop glancing at her stocking clad legs. Anna must have noticed because as we undressed to get into bed she left them on. I climbed onto the bed and kissed her feet. I kissed my way up her legs to where the stockings ended on her thighs. I pulled her panties down her legs and teased her with kisses all around her thighs. I worked up the nerve to move closer to her pussy. A couple of times I started to move toward it but her smell repelled me. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to go through with it. I glanced up at Anna and she was lying with her head propped up on her pillow watching me. Finally I took a deep breath and dove in. Her smell and her taste were both unpleasant to me, but I kept at it and soon got used to it. Anna gasped as I explored the folds of her pussy with my tongue. I experimented with sliding my tongue into her pussy but I found that it had an even odder taste than the rest of her. After that I stayed around her clitoris. I was probably doing an awful job, but Anna lay back and let me explore her. Eventually I slid a finger into her pussy while I licked at her clitoris, and she started moaning and bucking her hips in orgasm. I climbed up and kissed her on the lips, forgetting where my mouth had just been, but she didn't seem to mind. The next time I went to Anna's place we had sex. I slid on a condom and fucked her missionary style. Unlike Janine, Anna orgasmed while I was deep inside her. I felt like a stud. Afterward I told her about wanting to experiment with different positions and situations. Anna readily agreed. Anna pulled out an old VHS tape of a second rate porno. I won't lie and say I'd never watched porn before, but it was the first time I had watched it with someone else. We laughed at the thin plot and horrible acting, but the sex scenes turned us both on. We tried all of the different positions the actors in the movie did, with varying results. Doggie style was easy enough, but most others were difficult to pull off. I wasn't nearly as well endowed as the men in the film and as a result I couldn't penetrate Anna deep enough in some of the more complicated positions. Still, we had fun trying. After the porno was over I led Anna through her apartment, naked except for the condom hanging off of my semi-erection, looking for a good place to have sex. We tried standing up against a wall, but that didn't work because Anna was barely 5'4. I laid her on her kitchen table, but the height was all wrong. We finally settled on her sofa, with me thrusting into her until I came. On our next time together we took a bottle of maple syrup into bed with us. I poured some on her chest and set about licking it off. I set the bottle down beside me on the bed and it suddenly tipped over and the maple syrup spilled everywhere. That brought that experiment to a quick end, as we rushed to clean her sheets. I enjoyed my exploration with Anna, but I couldn't see myself having a real relationship with her. I could sense that she was much more serious about us. I panicked and decided I needed to break up with her. I sent her a text message, basically saying that I didn't think we should see each other anymore. Her reply was "PLEASE CALL ME." I called her and tried to explain myself as best I could without hurting her feelings. It didn't work. She totally freaked out. For a few days she wouldn't leave me alone. I ended up blocking her on my phone and AOL. I was worried that she would show up at the bank or something and I would have to get a restraining order, but she finally left me alone. I felt horrible dumping her like I did but her psychotic response validated what I had thought about her all along. My junior year of college was ending and as a reward for my hard work the bank promoted me to head teller. It was a little more money and a little more responsibility. My grades had slipped a little in my junior year, partly as a result of my relationships with Janine and Anna, so I decided that I would swear off women until after I graduated. I got my degree and sent my resume out to hundreds of companies. I got absolutely no replies. Luckily my bank came along and offered to make me a customer service representative. I had to invest in a few nice suits, but the pay was much better than head teller. I struggled with my new job. It turned out that as far as being a salesman went, if I had a lemonade stand in the desert, I probably wouldn't have turned a profit. After three months my boss sat me down. I didn't reach any of my sales goals. The bank liked me and didn't want to see me fail, my boss said, but obviously I wasn't cut out for sales. He offered me a position in their corporate office. One of their mortgage underwriters was retiring and they were willing to train me. The earnings potential wasn't nearly what it was as a salesman but it would be a nice, steady paycheck. I accepted the job. Mike's Story Life in the corporate office was much different than it was in the branches. For starters I didn't have to deal with customers every day. It was a bit of a relief. I was an introvert and being able to sit down at a desk and do my job without interruption suited me. After a few months I was good and trained. Soon I was thriving at my new job, and looking toward the future. I took a look around my department and saw that there was only one other underwriter, a kindly old grandmother. The department head was a spinster nearing retirement. I started to plan for the possibility that when she retired I would be able to take over the underwriting department. The downside of my new position was that I no longer had a good way of meeting women. The office was predominantly female, but mostly older, married women. None of them seemed interested in setting me up with their daughters, either. Not going to college anymore meant no more co-eds to hook up with. The only people I saw all day long now were my fellow co-workers. I spent my spare time with my friends who were all geeks like me. We got together and played video games and never went out to the types of places you would expect to find single women. I decided to try online dating sites, but I didn't like the type of women that I met there. In fact, some of them were the same ones that blew me off in high school. I considered pursuing them as a sort of revenge, but I really wasn't a vengeful person. I went on a couple of dates with a couple of different women, but all that did for me was validate my belief that I wasn't going to meet the right woman on a dating site. In the end my parents came to the rescue. They had a friend of a friend of a friend, maybe of a friend, who had a daughter that was just finishing up grad school and moving back home. Sure, I said, give me her email address. There was no harm in talking to her, right? We emailed for a couple of weeks, and then we talked on the phone for a couple of weeks. We agreed to meet for dinner on a Saturday night in August. She was short, maybe 5'4, with curly brown hair and had a mousy way about her. She was cute and sweet and innocent and I found myself falling for her quickly. The feeling was mutual and our relationship was off and running. I thought that everything was finally falling into place for me. One morning a few weeks later I came into work and found that we were all being ushered into an urgent meeting. My boss's boss's boss, who I hardly ever saw much less had ever heard him speak, regretfully informed us that our little community bank was being taken over by a larger bank. The merger was going to take several months to complete, he said, and nobody was sure yet what it meant for any of us individually. I was crushed. I saw myself rising up through the ranks and running that place one day. Now I was going to either be a smaller cog in a larger company or lose my job altogether. I wasn't sure how to break the news to my new girlfriend. I had prided myself on having a steady job and career at 24, when most of my friends were still screwing around or trying to establish themselves. She was very understanding. I felt a rush of affection for her. This is going to be the one, I thought to myself. The next several months at work were rough. We were all on edge, wondering what was going to happen next. One day a group of executives from the bank taking us over came to visit. They completely ignored the employees, instead touring our office while we sat at our desks pretending we weren't watching them and making comments like, "Oh, what a great space!" Their attitude made me so angry I wanted to scream at them. The rumors started flying around. They obviously wanted to keep our office, but what would they do with it? My counterparts in their bank worked downtown, nearly half an hour away. Would they ask me to work in their corporate office? It would be a rough commute. Then the rumor started flying around that they were going to move their mortgage operations to our building. A sense of relief flowed through us. We started to believe that maybe things would be okay after all. Then one fateful day I was called into a conference room. The head of the mortgage department was there along with a representative from human resources. They broke the news to me as gently as they could, but the point was that the new bank didn't want me. In the end they kept everybody on through the merger except for the managers and the underwriters. I resolved to take my severance and get on with my life. There were plenty of other banks out there, right? Except that it was 2006 and the industry was just starting to collapse. Banking jobs dried up overnight. For several months I hung on to the hope that I would find a job just like the one that I had and everything would be okay. Despite my career troubles, I proposed to Donna. She readily accepted. We found a nice two bedroom apartment and moved in together. She had a good job as a secretary and I had a lot of money saved up. I had already paid for my college education and had no outstanding debts. I was able to pay my half of the bills with my unemployment and my savings. As the months dragged on and my unemployment was about to run out, it started to become obvious that I would need to find a new career. Donna's dad was an attorney, and he suggested that I look into becoming a paralegal. It was a growing field, he said, and you don't have to put yourself a hundred thousand dollars into debt becoming a lawyer. I found that a local college offered a paralegal program that took about a year and was completely online. It only cost about four grand, and better yet it turned out that unemployment would pick up the tab for it. I signed up, ordered the books, and became a student again. The wedding was planned and paid for by our parents. I was going to get married just after I turned 25. I probably sound like a guy who had his whole life planned out, but in reality all I wanted to do was meet a nice girl and get married and buy a nice house together. Everything else would fall into place after that. I was focused on my "happily ever after," and who ever thinks about what happens after the end of a fairy tale? "Mike, I want to have a child," Donna said to me one day, a few weeks before the wedding. I wouldn't say the topic never came up before, but I always kind of blew it off. Sure, we'll have a kid or two, I would say. I really wasn't interested in having a child, at least not yet. I spent all of my spare time playing video games with my friends, watching movies, and reading comic books. I enjoyed it and didn't want to have to give it all up because of a baby. I figured we had plenty of time. That's pretty much what I said to her then. "No, I want a child right now," Donna said. I didn't understand the urgency. All I knew was that I was unemployed and we lived in a tiny apartment. "Can we wait a year or two until I get a job and we buy a house?" Donna started crying. I couldn't believe it. I really didn't know what to do. She seemed like a calm, rational person up until then, but suddenly whenever the topic of children came up she would get emotional. The wedding was right on top of us now. I started to get cold feet, but I thought that was all it was. Despite everything that was going on, we had a beautiful wedding. All of our friends and family were there. It was a perfect May evening. I was happy to be married, but behind the scenes the battle over having a child raged on. It would probably have been easier if I wasn't dealing with a completely irrational person, but Donna refused to listen to reason. I finally relented. "Yes, we can try to have a child," I told her a few months after we were married, not that she really gave me any other choice. To me, the important word in that sentence was 'try.' I figured I would stop wearing condoms and we would give it our best shot. Maybe we would just try and try and nothing would happen, right? Instead Donna told me for the first time that she had serious reproductive issues. We were going to have to go to a fertility specialist, she said. Before I knew it I was sitting in the waiting room of the best fertility doctor in the state. I looked around at the other people in the waiting room. We had to have been at least ten years younger than anybody else there. The doctor put Donna on a fertility drug and told us to have lots of sex when she was most likely to be ovulating. That didn't seem too hard, I thought to myself. Having sex with Donna fell somewhere in between my previous experiences with Janine and Anna. Like Janine, Donna was resistant to any kind of experimentation. She only wanted missionary sex. It also took a long, long time to turn her on, but I didn't mind the foreplay really. I enjoyed exploring her thin, shapely body with my fingers and lips. What set her apart from my previous experiences was that Donna was a multi-orgasmic dynamo once you got her going. I would rub her clit with my fingers until she was good and wet, and then enter her tight pussy. She would have two or three orgasms while I fucked her, each one more intense than the last. I sometimes tried to get Donna to try new things, just to make it a little more interesting, but she refused. Unfortunately trying to conceive took all of the fun out of sex for me. In the evenings Donna would basically take off all of her clothes and jump on me. It should've been fun for me but it wasn't. Maybe if I was actually interested in getting Donna pregnant I would've enjoyed it more. Instead sex became a chore and I stopped looking forward to it. In the middle of all of this I finished my paralegal program and received my certification. The very day that the certification arrived in the mail I was called in for an interview with a law firm. They were looking for a foreclosure paralegal. The mortgage industry had collapsed and foreclosures were skyrocketing. They needed a new paralegal to handle the volume. I didn't really have any legal experience but my underwriting experience meant that I knew all of the loan documents and that was a big part of my job. I was interviewed in part by the paralegal that I would be working with and he said that they would teach me the rest. I was hired that afternoon and started the following Monday. My first day in my new career was like a whirlwind. In the morning I was led through the office and introduced to everyone. I sat with the IT person and was trained on the computer programs that I would be using. The firm was nice enough to spring for lunch at a restaurant for me and my department. I found myself sitting at a table with all of the paralegals and administrative assistants in my group, along with two of the attorneys. I was asked a few basic questions about my life, and then I was left alone to contemplate my new co-workers. The other male paralegal was Steve. He had been there a few years already and was in his mid-20's like me. Unlike me he was a total jock, a heavy drinker, and swore like a sailor. Despite our differences we found out we liked a lot of the same movies and got along great. The administrative assistant that was going to be helping with my training, her name was Lisa, and she was a stocky, buxom woman in her late 20's, with a wide, friendly face. Another admin was gorgeous, 5'6 and big-chested, with almond brown eyes. Two of the other women were in their mid-30's, one was a loud-mouthed obese smoker and the other a skinny blonde. All of my new co-workers were married with children except for Steve and Lisa, who were dating. Suddenly I noticed another woman sitting at the other end of the table. Somehow I'd missed her completely up until that moment. I have no idea how that was possible, since she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She had long brown hair, doe-like brown eyes, a small up-turned nose, and high cheekbones. She was wearing a low-cut top that showed generous, gravity-defying cleavage. I judged her to be about my age, and later found that she was about 5'8. I forced myself not to stare at her. I was a newlywed, after all. Despite the problems we were having, I still loved my wife. I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at her and to pay attention to the rest of my new co-workers. Kate. Her name was Kate. Our roles in the department meant that we would interact from time to time, but not often. We didn't sit near each other, either. The way our office was configured Steve and I sat in a back room apart from the rest of the department. When I would come up to the front part of the office I tried to pretend I wasn't looking for Kate. When I needed to talk to her about something work-related I tried to stay professional and pretend that I wasn't looking forward to it. If she was wearing something low-cut I would struggle not to glance at her cleavage. Over time we got to know each other and developed a casual friendship. As soon as I passed the three month mark at my new job Donna and I started to house hunt. It was now 2008 and prices were dropping quickly. I found a nice three bedroom townhouse that was worth $50,000 less than it was just three years ago. The sellers were grateful to get out from under their mortgage and within 90 days Donna and I were homeowners. Soon after we settled into our new home Donna informed me we would have to go back to the fertility clinic. Nothing was happening in her quest to get pregnant. I knew that nothing was happening but it was secretly the way I wanted it. I didn't even have enough enthusiasm for wanting to conceive naturally. I really wasn't looking to try something more, especially not at 26. I tried to talk to Donna about it but she just burst into tears and ran out of the room. I threw my arms up in the air and felt like I had no control over my life. This time at the fertility clinic the doctor decided to do more extensive testing on both of us. For Donna it meant blood work and an invasive exam. For me it meant I got handed a cup and told to go to what I would eventually come to call the "happy room." The room was barely larger than a closet, with a flat screen TV against one wall and a comfortable chair against the other. A sink and a shelf full of dirty magazines were against the far wall. There was a DVD playing, the best of collection of a porn star I had never heard of, a blonde with huge silicone tits having sex with various combinations of men and women. It would do, I thought to myself. I wondered how most men felt about this. I guessed that most men were uncomfortable and got themselves off as quickly as they could. I resolved to enjoy myself, going through several scenes of the DVD while I stroked myself to full hardness. At one point the nurse knocked on the door and asked if I was okay, breaking my concentration. I had to start all over again! Finally after 40-45 minutes I was good and ready and shot my load into the cup. I washed up and left to find my wife waiting for me, looking pale and exhausted. I handed the semen-filled cup to the nurse. "Can I come back again next week?" I asked. I checked out okay, but the doctor said that Donna suffered from polyps and another medical term that completely baffled me that was causing our troubles. Since we were still young, the doctor said, we could keep trying on our own for a while. "No, I want to try insemination," Donna said to the doctor. I groaned. Donna was becoming more and more difficult to live with as it become clear that our goals in life were much different. When she was pumped full of hormones ahead of our first attempt at artificial insemination it exacerbated all of those problems. We fought constantly, sniped at each other, and basically didn't get along. Work became my safe haven. Steve started spending more and more time around Lisa, eventually deciding to move his desk to an empty one next to hers and leaving me in the back room by myself. It suited me just fine. I was able to work when I wanted to work, and goof off when I needed to goof off. I earned a reputation for being on top of my job, and the attorneys left me alone. Whole days went by where nobody would come into the back room looking for me. Sometimes when things were quiet I would go and seek out Kate. I found that most days everybody took lunch at noon and disappeared except for us, so when I felt like it I would come up to the main room to talk to her. I don't know why but I found myself complaining about my life with Donna to her. I found Kate to be easy to talk to. She listened and offered advice. She was married with a young daughter, but that basic information was really all I knew about her personal life. She would talk about the office gossip, things that I largely missed out on while I was hiding out at my desk in the back room, but she would never mention her family. There were times over those first couple of years that we worked together that we talked frequently and times we didn't talk as much, but it was always pleasant. Meanwhile the insemination attempts failed. Boom boom boom. Just like that. We tried three times in a year with no luck. At least I got to spend some more time in the happy room, right? Our marriage became more and more strained as the hormones and her frustrations made it more and more difficult to live with her. To make matters worse she was having trouble at work. I had gotten to know her boss at their company Christmas party, and I was shocked when one day my firm's receptionist transferred his call to me. He was worried about her, he said, because sometimes she would run out of the office crying. Donna was a very private person and didn't even tell him what was going on. I told him about our fertility issues and asked him to keep me informed about my wife's behavior. On top of everything else now I started to worry that Donna was going to lose her job. When I confronted Donna about it she didn't even seem to care. Having a child was more important than anything to her, especially her job, she said to me. She wanted to stay home and raise our child until it was five, she said. "Five?" I remember shouting, "We can't afford that!" She didn't respond. She would just stay silent whenever she knew I was right, but it didn't mean that she was going to change her mind. After three failed insemination attempts the insurance companies will let you try in vitro fertilization. I remember that our fertility doctor was trying to talk Donna out of it. "You're still young," he said, "Give insemination a chance to work. Most couples don't resort to in vitro until they are well into their 30's." "I don't care," Donna replied, "I want to have a child." I groaned. Donna got more extensive testing done on her. I got another trip to the happy room. With insemination Donna just got a few hormone injections at the doctor's office before each attempt. With in vitro there were injections that needed to be done at home before and after the embryos were implanted, injections that we needed to do ourselves. I was dreading it. While we were preparing to try in vitro Donna lost her job. At this point in our strained marriage I was no longer sure if I was getting the whole truth from Donna, but she claimed that her boss told her he couldn't have a secretary who put her own needs before his company. I went over our finances and found that we could probably live off of her unemployment and our savings for a while. Luckily all of our fertility efforts were covered by insurance, because there was no way we could have afforded it otherwise. "Don't worry, my parents will help us out financially," Donna said. That was one of the things I was afraid of, I thought to myself. Her parents used their money as a way to elbow their way into our lives and have input in our decisions. It was yet another distraction in our already troubled marriage. Mike's Story I realized with all of the stress and everything that I was starting to let myself go physically. I was in the bathroom one morning and realized that I was growing a little belly. My firm had an exercise room, and while it wasn't filled with the best equipment, it was free, and it was still better than the set of barbells that I used at home. It was also an excuse to spend a little less time at home, especially now that Donna was there all the time. The 9-5 grind had given me an affinity for waking up early in the mornings, so I started going to the office as early as 7am some mornings to hit the exercise room. Sometimes I wouldn't do more than ride the stationary bike for half an hour, but at least I was getting my heart rate up and the muscle tone back in my legs. The exercise room was deserted in the mornings. Apparently nobody else in the firm shared my love for early morning workouts. One day when I was hanging around Kate's desk at lunchtime I happened to mention that I started going to the exercise room in the mornings. She seemed genuinely interested. She told me that she had a treadmill at home but she wanted to get into better shape. I thought of her body and couldn't imagine how it could be improved upon, but I didn't want to complement her and end up sounding creepy. One morning I was on my back doing bench presses. I was only bench pressing 160 pounds, which was less than my limit even when I was out of shape, but I didn't want to risk hurting myself without a spotter. Suddenly I noticed a shadow standing over me. I looked up and saw Kate, dressed in gym shorts and a t-shirt. The way she was hovering over me I could almost see right up her t-shirt. I was so startled I almost dropped the barbell on my neck. I recovered quickly enough though. "Hello," I said as though I was expecting her. "Hey," she said, "Care for a workout buddy?" I set the barbell down and sat up to face her. Her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. The t-shirt she was wearing was small on her, and barely fit around her ample chest, leaving her midriff bare. Her shorts only went partway down her thighs, giving me a view of her shapely tanned legs. I had to blink a couple of times just to make sure I was really seeing what I thought I saw. "Umm... sure," I said. "You don't sound too sure," Kate said, "I can come back another time if you'd like." "No," I said a little too forcefully. "No," I said again. "This is fine." From then on we met up at the exercise room to work out two or three times a week. Some days we would ride the two stationary bikes side by side. Other days we would take turns using the various equipment and spotting for each other. It left us in some interesting positions, especially when I would be hovering over her with a view down her shirt. We became closer friends, although she still spoke very little about her personal life. She talked about her daughter more, but she never mentioned her husband. I started to wonder if she had marital problems like I did. After we finished our workouts we would go into the separate rooms to shower. I would stand in the shower and think about Kate being naked in the woman's locker room on the other side of the wall, and get hard. More than once I ended up jerking off right there in the stall shower, fantasizing about Kate's body. ... I was working late one night. Everybody else had gone home, even the attorneys. The cleaning staff had come and gone. Still I stayed at my desk, trying to process a mountain of new foreclosure requests we had received that day. Suddenly I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked up, startled. It was Kate. Without a word she came up to me and kissed me, thrusting her tongue deep into my mouth, our tongues intertwining. She knelt down and undid my belt buckle and unbuttoned my slacks. She reached into my underwear and pulled out my cock. She climbed onto my lap, and I realized she was wearing a skirt and nothing underneath. She ground herself against my erection, her groin seeking out mine. I felt her pussy, slick with her arousal, press against me, and felt myself slide into the opening. Kate was staring deep into my eyes, and she leaned down and kissed me as she began to slide herself in and out of me. The office chair creaked and groaned under our combined weight as Kate fucked me. I heard her gasping and moaning as she came against me, the feel of her pussy spasming around my cock triggering my orgasm... I shot my load into the cup. I handed it off and the tech took it into the lab along with Donna's eggs. It was time for our first attempt at in vitro and I was fantasizing about Kate, virtually ignoring the porno that was playing. We came back a few days later and the embryos were implanted into Donna. I was ordered to go sit in the waiting room. It was a medical procedure and I wasn't allowed to be there. I started cracking jokes about not even being in the same room when my children were conceived, but Donna didn't find it funny. What I did end up getting was a crash course in needle injections, because from then on the hormone injections needed to be in Donna's buttocks once a day, and it was impractical for her to go to the doctor's office every day to get it done. I dreaded what I was going to have to do. I was squeamish about the sight of blood and hated needles. I wondered why I was going through with this for the millionth time. Part of me wanted the in vitro to work, just so I wouldn't have to deal with all of the fertility issues anymore, but I was also terrified that it would work because, well, it would mean a baby, or more! I would lie awake at night and go over all sorts of different scenarios in my mind, very few of which had happy endings, until I was so exhausted that I would fall into a twilight state, almost a trance where my mind would wander wherever it wanted to go. ... We were racing, Kate and I. We were side by side, riding our stationary bikes as fast as we could. The goal was to see who could go the hardest the longest. I had turned up the tension on my bike several notches to make it more even, my powerful legs pumping. I could feel the sweat pouring off of me. I shared a glance with Kate, and we smiled at each other despite our exertions. I could feel my heart racing. Suddenly Kate cried out and leapt off of her bike. "Cramp!" She yelled out, hobbling to an empty area of the floor a few paces away and flopping down on her back. I leapt off of my bike and was quickly beside her. "Where?" I asked. "Right here," Kate gasped, pointing to her hamstring behind her left thigh. Without thinking I took hold of her leg by the ankle and started stretching it, pulling her leg out and then pushing it towards her body, shifting my weight until I was pressing her leg backwards with my body. "Aahh," Kate gasped again, "Stretch it... stretch it..." I was suddenly aware of the position we were in. Kate was dressed in a loose t-shirt and bicycle shorts that left little to the imagination. I felt her push her leg back against me, her ankle up against my shoulder. Our eyes locked, her beautiful brown eyes staring up at me with a hunger I had never seen before. Suddenly I was kissing her. I could feel her body against mine, her lips against mine, and a passion beyond anything I had ever experienced before. I wanted this woman more than I had ever realized. I pulled away from her, gazing at her body beneath me. Kate was still gasping for air, her chest heaving. I grabbed her t-shirt at the neckline and tore it down the middle, exposing her sports bra. We kissed again. Before I knew it I was inside of her, thrusting as fast as I could, both of us gasping and grunting... I awoke with a start, for a moment having no idea where I was. I was in my bedroom in the middle of the night. It wasn't Kate that was beside me, it was Donna, six months pregnant and snoring softly, completely oblivious to the fact that I was dreaming about another woman. I was drenched in sweat and hard as a rock. I slid out of bed and into the bathroom, knowing that I would have to take care of myself if I had any hope of getting back to sleep. I pulled down my shorts and took hold of myself, replaying in my mind what I could still remember from the dream. It didn't take me long to cum, imagining what it felt like to be inside Kate, shooting spurt after spurt of pent-up cum into the toilet. I cleaned up and went back to bed, but I doubted I would get any more sleep that night. I tossed and turned, trying to will myself back into that dream with Kate. "Are you okay?" Kate asked me. We were side by side on the stationary bikes, just like in my dream, but we weren't racing. I was pedaling with my eyes closed, trying to rest my mind even as my body exerted itself. I turned to look at her. "I'm fine," I said, "Just had a rough night." "Oh," Kate said. She paused, and then added, "Still having problems at home?" "Yeah it's... bad," I said with a sigh. Usually I went into details, but after the previous night I felt awkward talking to Kate. My fantasies and dreams about her were becoming more and more frequent and explicit. After the last dream I wasn't sure I could ever look at her the same way again. I could sense Kate looking at me. I never missed a chance to complain. I wondered what she was thinking. We rode our bikes in silence for a few minutes. "Can I ask a personal question?" Kate suddenly asked. I glanced over at her. "Sure," I said. "Do you and Donna still... you know..." Kate said, tilting her head to the side. "No," I said a little too quickly, shocked that she was asking about my sex life. We never talked about things like that. I paused to gather my thoughts. "Well, you can't have sex while you're going through in vitro. Once we knew she was pregnant and got past the injections and the viability phase well... I don't know... she was pregnant... you know what I mean? It's not that I find her undesirable... but with what we went through and the problems we're having... I just... I don't know..." I trailed off. "I know," Kate said, "It's hard." I wasn't sure if it was because of the dream I had the previous night or way she said it, but I suddenly got the sense that she was using a double entendre. I glanced at her but she was staring straight ahead. If she was going to ask me such a personal question, maybe she was willing to open up to me a little bit. I had very little luck getting her to talk about her married life, but I decided to flip the question back on her. "What about you?" I asked, leaving the question as open-ended as I could to see what kind of answer I got. "Oh," Kate said, sounding surprised I even asked her a question, "Being pregnant didn't change things much for us." I turned her response over and over in my mind, failing to find any kind of useful information in it. Kate was talking again. "Does she ever... do you ever... you know... help each other out?" she asked. I could feel myself blushing... amazed at the direction our conversation was going in. "No," I blurted out. "We don't... she's not that kind of... umm..." I trailed off, not sure of how much I was even supposed to say. "Oh," Kate said when she realized I was done talking, "Sorry to hear that." We rode in silence again. I was shouting questions at her in my mind. "What about you? What is your sex life like? Do you fantasize about me the way I fantasize about you?" I didn't ask any of them aloud. I doubted I wanted to hear any of the answers. I knew that she had a husband. I didn't want to hear about her sex life with him. I didn't even want to think about it. In my fantasies she was just as unhappy in her marriage as I was, and it made me feel guilty. I had to wish unhappiness on her to make her available to me. "Well, I'm gonna shower and get ready for work," Kate said, climbing off of her bike. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable," Kate said, "You know don't have to answer my questions if you don't want to." "I know," I mumbled, letting Kate walk into the woman's locker room before I got off of my bike to hide the erection bulging in my gym shorts. I was stroking myself in the empty men's locker room before I even made it into the shower, imagining that Kate was 'helping me out' as I watched my second orgasm of the morning go down the drain. My daughter arrived on a Saturday morning, a month early and in great haste. We had to scramble because we were only just starting to get everything ready. The crib was assembled and the car seat was installed. My daughter came home and I had no idea what to do with her. To my surprise, neither did my wife. I got really angry with Donna. She was supposed to have been home all this time reading baby books and learning how to take care of the baby. Instead she would just stand there, dawdling while my daughter screamed for her bottle. When she screamed in the middle of the night I would snap, "This is why I didn't want children." Mys were around constantly, and at first I welcomed the help, however it didn't take me long to realize that their presence wasn't helping anything. They would stand off to the side and tell Donna what to do and get angry when she didn't do things their way. Their presence also pushed my family to the side. I had plenty of people ready and willing to help. It would have been actual, useful help. My mother and sisters, aunts and grandparents were more than willing to take turns taking care of my daughter in the evenings and weekends so that Donna and I could get some rest, but it became clear that Donna and her parents didn't want my family around. Her family was welcome anytime. They would show up with bags of food and bottled water, basically buying their way into our home. My family could only come over with Donna's consent, and she didn't consent to it very often, and it made me furious. Somehow I had completely lost control of my home, and I felt powerless to do anything about it. This was a time when families are supposed to bond, but instead my daughter's presence pulled us even further apart. As I watched my life spiral more and more out of control, a horrible realization was dawning on me. I didn't love Donna anymore. It all came to a head a couple of months after my daughter was born. I came home from work one evening to find Donna preparing formula in the kitchen and mys trying to pacify my daughter. There was a take-out bag on the kitchen counter. "What did you get for dinner?" I asked. "Oh, my parents brought dinner for the three of us," Donna said. Wait; did she say the three of us? "They didn't get me anything?" I asked, incredulous. Donna had that deer-in-headlights look she usually had when I yelled at her. "You'd better go talk to them," she mumbled. I went right to my daughter's room. "What's going on?" I asked. Mys looked at each other. They were non-confrontational people. I knew that they could be vicious behind someone's back, but face-to-face they were cowards. My father-in-law spoke. "We think that this marriage isn't working out," he said. "We told Donna that she needs to divorce you right away." In my sleep-deprived state, it took a few moments for what he said to fully sink in. Once his words fully registered I got so angry I started to shake. "Why do you think that?" I asked, trying to say it as calmly as I could. "You've been snapping at her and yelling at her and saying things like you never wanted to have children," he said, "You come home and you want nothing to do with your family. You want to play video games and watch movies." None of that was untrue, but I didn't need this self-righteous bastard to tell me these things. "I work full time..." I started to say. My father cut me off with a wave of his hand. He had no interest in my side of the story. Furious, I stormed out of my daughter's room and over to my wife, where she was still in the kitchen preparing our daughter's formula, trying to pretend like she had no idea what was going on. "Do you want to divorce me?" I blurted out. Donna didn't turn her head. She stared at the kitchen sink. "No," I heard her say over the rushing water. Gathering my nerve, I stormed back into my daughter's room. "Give me my daughter," I said, looming over them and squaring my shoulders. Hey, I'm 6'1 and 200 pounds of muscle. I may as well use it to look intimidating. My mother asked me, "Are you going to become violent?" I ignored her. My father was the one holding my daughter. "Give me my daughter, now," I growled. He stood up slowly, and without looking in my direction held her out to me. I took her in my arms. All this time she was wailing for her bottle. She stopped crying when she realized that her daddy was holding her. "Now get the fuck out of my house," I said to them, "and if I ever see you here again I'll call the police and have you arrested for trespassing!" "This isn't over," my father said as he and my mother-in-law hastily retreated from my house. "I'm sure it isn't," I yelled after them. It didn't take me long to realize that I was in a losing battle to save my marriage. It didn't help that I wasn't even sure if I wanted to save my marriage. I didn't love Donna anymore, but I couldn't get my mind around the thought of actually divorcing her. We had the house and the baby, and a divorce basically meant starting over. I couldn't afford the house alone, and I certainly couldn't afford it with a wife who refused to work. Our savings were almost gone. Mys were loaded and they had been giving us some money, but after that night the money stopped flowing. I sensed that as soon as our money was gone Donna was going to divorce me. Donna was even more lost without her parents around to guide her. I resolved to enjoy what little time I had left with my home and the illusion that I had a happy family. I threw myself headlong into my daughter's life, rocking her to sleep every night and volunteering to take the nighttime feedings. I would put her down in the evening and catch a few hours of sleep in the recliner beside her, waking up with her and feeding her, then sleep a few more hours before I had to get up and go to work. I never missed a day of work through all of it, but I barely had any energy left to work out. I didn't see much of Kate during those months. And I was right, after four more months our bank account was completely empty and Donna filed for divorce. My father the attorney used his money and influence to make the divorce as miserable as possible for me. They hired the best divorce attorney in the state and pulled some strings to rush the paperwork through court. My family offered to help in any way they could, but they had neither money nor influence. Besides, it was my mess. I went into it with my eyes wide open. I suspected that something wasn't quite right with Donna but I not only married her but had a child with her anyway. I was grateful enough that my parents let me move back into my old bedroom. I couldn't believe how my life had turned out. There I was, a 28 year old paralegal, separated with an infant daughter, back living at home with my parents. My firm offered discounted legal services to its employees so I enlisted the help of the firm's divorce attorney. He took me on but it was clear that he didn't consider me to be worth his valuable time. We scheduled a conference so that we could work out the terms of the divorce. For an hour the attorneys shouted at each other, primped and gesticulated, and got nothing accomplished. I eventually realized that this was just very expensive theater. I asked to speak to Donna alone and we had everything settled in five minutes. Donna's parents would essentially buy the house from us and Donna would continue to live there with the baby. I got out of there with nothing but the shirt on my back and custody of my daughter every other weekend. Oh, and alimony and child support payments.