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Moment

By: MayonakaRyuu



I feel something inside my chest - it hits me like a tsunami wave. Rushing over me and wrecking my soul. It stops me in my tracks. My work is no longer important, falling to the back burner in my brain. Moments pass, suddenly I'm showered and leaving my home. My thoughts turned carnal and out of the blue you popped into my head. Like the whole world went to silence and I followed a pulsating red line to your door. I knock. 

You open the door, you look at me and smile. Somehow, you're not surprised and that irritates the fuck out of me. But it's sexy, you know I like it. You let me in - No, I let myself in and close the door behind me. My heart is racing and its purely chemical - mental, physical. It's everything a tornado of mixed signals and emotions. I love it - it makes me hot and sweaty in all the positive ways. You take a few steps back and get a better look at me. What I'm wearing - what I'm not wearing. Heat radiates off my body in a lavender scented haze. You always said you liked that smell. I like to think I'm aggressive submissive - aggressive enough to stir your dominance; submissive in that fact that I am perfectly willing to submit to it. 

That's not easy to say, you know? I'm not the typical submissive - I don't crave dominance in the bedroom. I rule all aspects of my life. I've ruled aspects of my love life too. But something about your aura and my need; Tsk, when they come together. 

Which is what brings me here. Now. Hot and wanting. 

You beckon with a finger, my first steps are hesitant - like I want to ignore the Siren song promise pulling me forward. It's like an invisible leash that pulls me forward, even with my eyes closed I know where we're going. I'm barefoot, following a well walked path to your room. My arousal is painful now, every nerve ending singing. Nipples are brushing fabric, I hear moans. That strip of fabric brushing my swollen clit. I'm leaking like a sieve. 

I'm suddenly moaning, every step stroking an erogenous zone. You haven't touched me yet. Do you know how frustrating that is? To know the moment you either choose to plunge into my waiting hole, I'll probably pass out. This excites me more. You sit on the edge of your bed and I turned the doomed corner and see you there. Perfectly relaxed in a T-Shirt and boxers.

Already. Fully. Erect. 

I can smell the heat seeping through the opening of your boxers. A manly, musky, mouth watering aroma that has me thumbing at my lips. I have to swallow multiple times to fight the flood in my mouth. The one in my pants is visible. But you've always been amused by that. You draw your finger in an invisible line down my body. As if following a silent command, clothes come off - exposing goose-bumped skin in its wake. 

Why won't you touch me? My body is wound tight - I'm going to break. I'm going to break for your amusement. It would only be the beginning though. 

" Heh." 

You laughed. Because my knees are shaking, so are my hands. You point to the floor. That's fine, I was on my way there anyway. That finger beckoned again..and I come.

No. I cum. Like you reached into the pit of my womb and tickled the top of my G-Spot. Maybe it was sliding against the frame ( more like clinging for life ). The moment my knees sink into the carpet, electrical fires went off in my body. I can sense your amusement. Thighs are sticky with release. The sounds come from my twat are loud and lewd. There is a rumble in your chest, like a great beast stirring. Slowly, my head raises to meet yours - and I see it. My motions are careful, deliberately slowly. Because this is as much for you as it is for me. Your eyes go hard, I swear I'm close enough to hear the pulse in your cock. 

Magnificent. We've reached beyond foreplay, this is something else. This is unclassified, it is epic and astronomical as what will occur in mere moments. My face nuzzles up your leg. My breath is coming in small gasps. I'm running lust all onto your carpet. Even you are disturbed, you try to hide it. But I'm close enough to see you suck in your stomach as my breath rolls over your balls. 

"Can I have it..?" I nuzzle your cock, it stirs. Responding to my will. There is that rumble again, as if the teasing is breaking your cool. I see how you grab at the edge of the bed. It so soft, hot..hard. I talk to it. Talk to you through it. 

"I can have it right..?" I lick my lips while talking. Right there near the head, like a microphone. I made a moist spot. I pulled back and blow on it. I can sense your control slipping. You love it. My nails rake a trail up your legs as I settle in. A tiny lick at first, just at the knob. French kissing the head, tipping my tongue into the opening. I keep my hands away, teasing with my mouth. Licking you slow, long and languorous.

It's getting thicker, hotter and that little fluid pouring out of the top tells me your ready. I look you in your eyes and make my descent. A raspy breath, a hoarse sound and your head lolled back. But I stop, it forces you to look at me while gritting your teeth. I force you to watch as sink down. I know no barriers. My eyes on yours as I swallow you whole. Keep you there. Make you suffer as the muscles in my throat work you, my tongue moving. I stay there, until I can't breath. Breathing hard through my nose. Then I suck. You grab my hair and pull me off so you can stand. You make short work of those boxers. I've stirred the beast. I can tell by the way my head is pulled back. The way you're manipulating my spine. 

You're all teeth and rage as you put your cock on my face. Slapping me, chastising me for teasing you. For making you hard. 

"Look what you've done.." A growl more than anything. 

I give you defiance. The fuel for the aggression that has you wound just as tight as me. 

"Open your mouth.." carefully spoken. 

Defiance still. Your grip is harder and as soon as I gasp - you plunge forward. Your body coiled as you push forward. The sound surprises us both. You push past the boundary of my throat and it makes me gag. Now you have both your hands in my hair - directing me. I can hardly breathe its wonderful. I open wider and you grunt as you force yourself down my gullet. You make sounds, hungry sounds - snarling aggression. 

All that moaning and gasping. 

I cum again, my eyes rolling back into my head. You pull out and let me convulse. 

"We're not done yet.." Pulling me to my feet by the top of my head. My vision swims in multicolored hues and you toss me back on the bed. The plush realization sets in. I know what you're going to do - I'm instantly fearful. Scrambling backward as clarity sets my brain on fire. There is a soft sound as you shed your shirt. But the door slammed with finality. My back is against the headboard and there are tears in my eyes. My makeup runs and I look like some sad drunken college girl. Every time I move my legs it sounds like someone was squishing jello between their fingers. Bad analogy, I know. You'll forgive me when I tell you that later.

I can't move farther away from you - I'm scared, excited, aroused. You pulled my leg and jerked me forward. I'm leaning up on my elbows. Watching you slide your face against my leg. I'm momentarily embarrassed at the sticky mess I am. My eyes wide as I watch you get lower, and lower still. 

"W-wait..." I want to protest - and run to the bathroom. But you are having none of it. You reach my thigh and my heart starts playing a mambo beat. Licking, you start licking remnants off my thigh - and there were explosions in my brain again. So sensitive, so wonderfully - horribly sensitive.

Your fingers dig into my skin, holding me in place. My lungs collapse, I am suddenly unable to breathe as you lick a sloppy path to my swollen, wet pussy lips. It's a dirty word, twat, pussy, cunt. You use them all and then I am clean. Robbed of the liquid of my ecstasy. Now it's you, there, against my skin - marking me. 

I can't watch! Oh god..I can't..I can't watch you with that face. You're growling. Right against that heat of my sex. My head shakes back and forth. You're seeking revenge. Whimpers. Moans.

Finally, a steadying breath is expelled. I drag myself up. My eyes wide and you move in slowly the first tickle was just..the tip of your tongue. Almost curious to test the limits of my control. A quick butterfly gentle flicker underneath my clit. My mouth is open in pure disbelief as you surge forward. 

Sucking.

.."Oh my god.."

Licking.

" O-oh my..god.."

Slurping.

" F-uuck..yes.." 

Then you sealed the deal, plunging two fingers in my greedy hole. The heaven's opened and reached their arms out to me - prepared to take me home. My body bucks and arches as I gush. Pleased sounds as you swallow me down, moving faster and tickling my hidden inner spot. I can't see through the tears. You keep milking me, my orgasms roll on a squirting tide into your mouth.

The world is silent. 

I can't hear a thing. My orgasm is so strong it plugs my ears, except for the roar of my pulse. I am deaf..and I am blinded by tears. 

"..Please.." 

You keep finger fucking me - I'm squirming and moaning. You keep making demands on my body, suddenly I'm just a squishing noise echoing through the room. I can't cum for you anymore. Not the way you want me to. The spray and splurt is gone. The sheets are wet. You are wet. You lick your lips a wave of anxious nausea rolls my gut. 

Running a wet hand down your chest, to where all my lust has made your cock glisten like marble. Hot steel. 

"Please..." I have no shame. I beg. You rip the cover off the bed, it gets in the way. You can't get traction. Pulling me down farther. We both pause at this golden moment. Our eyes, not locked on each other, locked on that grand union. Where light ..meets my chocolate coated pink flesh. We're both breathing heavy and biting our lips. You're shaking while holding me tight. 

My Gothic manicured toes are digging into your shoulder. We're both waiting. You set down, the head of your cock touches my wet heat. We both sigh in content. You take a deep, steadying breath. Sliding forward slowly.

Ah, if there were such bliss readily available in bottles we'd be rich. You're bruising grip is steady. I want to slide onto you - you're having none of that! You hold me - I am left to die on you again. Something like a hoarse death rattle as I suck in my stomach, my air - my world. The orgasm rips me, rolling over your cock like a velvet sock - because I have you. Gritting your teeth you fight against the tight confines of my sanctuary. You're finally inside the temple our hips meshed. I grab my breasts, because its the only thing I have left to hold. I ride that wave, I don't know how long it lasted. 

I pushed you, suckling you from the inside. It was at that moment..

My beast called to yours - he answered. 

Piston. 

With wild abandon you plowed into me. Furious, maddening pace. My pussy is abused and swelling. I am still wet. Watching you loose your control as you seek your end with my body. You growl, we lock eyes - I return with snarls.

But your aura is overpowering, I am cowered in the face of another orgasm. The world is silent again, my back arches. You grunt your pleasure. You're counting, you know I can't let anyone else do this to me. I refuse to - no one else could. I have given you power and your cock swells inside me as you bang a beat into my twat. You don't want to cum yet, oh no. You pull out as you feel that pull at the base of your toes. 

" Oh, I'm not done yet." You drop my legs and flip me over dropping my head to the pillows. I toss a look over my shoulder. You lean your body on top of mine. Breathing heavily, you slide in from the back. Relishing the look as I spread tight across you. Deeper than before. Your hand reaches around and catches me at my throat. Just enough pressure to moisten me up. Soon it's not fighting you, your gliding in and out. 

" Chocolate girl..." You're nickname for me. A silky, rough whisper as you violate me. Each motion measured, not a movement wasted as you seek it out. Like a heat seeking missile, speeding to its target. 

I'm gasping.

"That's right.." 

Fighting it.

"Come on, precious.."

Can't..hold it. " Ohmygod!" 

" Yes...yesss.." You're forced out by a violent spurt and I cum all over you. You give no quarter, plunging back in and riding me and that orgasm with a bestial sound. I am shrieking and panicked as the air hasn't returned. You don't care, I've got you in a vice grip. Then you loose it. 

The feeling creeps up from your toes and puckers your asshole. You turn me over, still inside me, my legs are up and you dip down. Digging for that feeling that sparks a fire in your balls. 

We're sweating - I can't feel my legs. The tears are flowing from my eyes - I'm not in pain. I'm in awe, you plucked my body like an instrument. 

We are howling, snarling, clawing like mad animals. Cover my body with yours. Then the kiss. The kiss that we've managed to fight off till the very end. It's greedy and needy, demanding. 

To hell with living up to expectations, I'm trying to live. 

" I can't...I just can't.." I'm hurting. The pleasure and pain have intertwined in their own chaotic dance.

" Yes. Yes, you can. You will.." A hiss. Because you're almost there. I can tell in that flinching jerk in your hip. Just when I think you have no place in my womb to go - you surprise me. Long, powerful strokes against my G-spot. My nails are in your back, you grit your teeth. 

This is it. This is the one. You back away your hands on my hips. Pulling me onto you. 

..close. 

My toes curl.

So..fucking close. 

My womb rejects you as my gut clenches. You are like a barbarian, a series of grunted vowel sounds as you pull out. Screaming I arch and slather you again. The moment it hit your skin - you go off. 

Like a jackhammer, pumping that cream all over my skin. I think if you hadn't spelled your name against my cunt walls - you surely signed the canvas at that point. We are loud - and we don't care. 

Sweat. Cum. Sex. 

These are the smells that hang in the air. This is the only thing that registers for me. My brain is fuzzy. My ears have stopped working. You fall forward onto me - seeking solstice in the plush of my breasts.

I love that you don't care about laying in the expelled liquid of your union. Our hearts beat and find each other, slowing. 

All vital signs leveled out. 

I feel well used. Your tongue flicks and does mind numbing things to an untouched nipple. I quiver beneath you. I can feel your dark chuckle against my skin, setting colonies of goosebumps on the move.

I don't have to look at you to know you're smiling. 

" Perfect..." You say.

" A perfect moment.." A smile as I slip into blissful unconsciousness.

Moment in Time



He was buried inside her. Oh how he had imagined this, but it was nothing compared as to actually being on top of her, inside her. Her body wrapped around him, covering his senses, all her could smell, feel and taste was her.

Tessa's back arched, pushing her breasts into his chest, tiny points brushing his body, sending arcs of electricity thru her. He trembled from the onslaught of emotion, and was finding it hard to breathe.

Her body clasped down on his in response to the invasion. He shook from the effort of wanting to savor the moment, but the feeling of his cock sliding inside a tight wet velvet grip was driving him over the edge.

Tessa sighed in pure physical pleasure, his minds eye visioning them joined as they were-the most intimate of embraces, timeless, passionate. 

Drake wanted to enjoy all of the pleasure he had to offer her and looked up into her face. What he saw melted any doubt he might have had. She was gazing up at him, glazed with lust and something else... something more than any other love he had, look at him that way.

Her hips arched and she groaned from frustration, wanting him deeper. He buried his hands under her, shifting his weight onto her body and plunged as hard as he could inside her. Both moaned and she lifted her legs higher around his body to gain more access to the thrusting. Drake plowed into her with total abandonment, his body tensing as hers shook more violently. Finally she arched and groaned pulling him down inside her, burying his cock inside her.

Drake shook in spasms as his body rocked in the wave of his orgasm, guttural groans coming from his throat as he rode her in a shockwave of lust, desire and love...

Drake collapsed on top of her, his weight complete on her, but she didn't mind, she was still whimpering and shivering slightly, still riding her orgasm to the last. His face was buried into her shoulder. After a long moment, he managed to move his knees under him and pull himself up a bit. He lifted his head to see her with her eyes still closed, trying to catch her breath. When he leaned up, he pulled back and instinctively her legs wrapped around his thighs again. 

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. They were dark and smoky, sweat covered his face and a look of total contentment covered it. She smiled up at him and leaned up for a kiss, soft and gentle. He responded to her lips, covering hers.

He moved off to the side of her, slipping out of her body and pulled her over him. She lay pressed against him, her hip next to his groin. They lay quietly, not daring to say a word, afraid of breaking the spell that had wrapped around them but finally Tessa moved up and looked at him.

Never in her life had she been able to love anyone, much less open herself like this, but he was no ordinary man, something about him was different than all the rest. Sure there had been a few come her way, that wanted nothing more than a conquest, but she had refused them and thus earned the ice queen title. What they didn't know was if they had slept with her, they would have died within a few minutes, and she couldn't let that happen no matter how sleazy they had been, or nice for that matter. She couldn't risk hurting anyone. But this man was different, she could feel it in the way he responded to her, held her, fucked her senseless. Her own inner demons wouldn't be able to hurt this man, because she felt a trickle of familiarity with him, as if he were part of her secret?

Tessa saw a cloud pass over his face as she drifted in thought and decided that this was their time and no ghosts would come between them.



Moment of Clarity



 (c) Daniel Quentin Steele - 2010

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is the first thing I've done for Literotica. I hope most readers like it, but I'm curious to see what reader reaction will be. One of the things I like best about this site, besides the fact that it has some great stories that go far beyond the stroke category, is the interplay between writers and readers. 

I'd like to thank editor LadyPineRose74 for her help and contributions to this story, especiallky for boosting my confidence in submitting it.







She stood in the hallway staring wordlessly at the suitcases, the laptop case, his briefcase. Piled up where she hadn't seen them when she walked in. She walked back into the den and looked at the man sitting in the shadows.

"You are insane, Lyle. You are walking out on me and our two sons...because of one fight! One stupid mistake I made while I was drunk a few hours ago. I didn't have sex with anyone. I didn't betray you. You are certifiable."

When he didn't answer she started toward him and again he held his hand up as if he were giving a stop sign. She halted. She wondered if he really might have had a breakdown. This man was not her husband, not the man she had lived with for eight years. No one could change so drastically in a few hours. He had never been like this before, never. And the worst of it was, there really wasn't anything to explain it. Nothing – much – had happened at the party. 

She backed up but didn't sit down.

"Can you tell me why? Can't you at least do that?"

"I had a moment of clarity."

She heard the words but couldn't fit them into any kind of sense.

"A moment of clarity? Why do you do that, Lyle? I know you think you're smarter than I am, than anybody in my family, anybody around here. But why can't you avoid rubbing our noses in the fact that we're morons compared to you. Put it in words I can understand."

The figure cloaked in shadow shifted his position, put his head forward slightly and seemed to rest it on his joined fists.

"I'm sorry Diane. I really am. I don't mean to do that. It's just that's the way professors of English Literature think and talk. It's not that hard to explain, actually. We, all of us, walk around never really seeing what our whole lives are all about. 

"We're blinded by all the minutiae of our existences – waking up and brushing our teeth and going to work and paying bills and what's on TV tonight and the kids having colds and wondering if we're getting fat or if our husbands or wives are looking at other people. We never step back and get a picture of where our lives are. Except, once in a rare while."

He stopped and she stayed silent, hoping he would go on.

"I had a moment of clarity earlier tonight."

"You keep saying that, but what does it mean? What did you see?'

Even though she could not see his face clearly she knew he'd focused his glance laser-like on her face. She felt the force of his gaze on her skin.

"I saw our life, Diane. I saw what we are, what we were, and what we've become. It had nothing to do – or very little – with what happened at the party. You're right, to walk out because of one fight, one mistake, one incident, would be crazy. That's not why I'm leaving.

"I'm leaving because I realized our marriage was a mistake, that I love you but you don't love me, that I have never and probably never will satisfy you sexually the way you need to be satisfied, that you're a good woman deep down and you will never leave me because you honor your promises, and that we're too young to screw up each other's lives for the next 40 or 50 years. That's why I'm leaving when we finish our conversation...

############ ############## ##############

About three hours earlier:

I pulled into my driveway at 9:30 p.m. My cell phone remained silent. It had been silent since I left Rivers Trailer Park south of Palatka at 8 p.m.; left my wife and about 75 of her close and extended family members and friends drinking and dancing at a monthly party that had been a tradition for almost the entire 8 years of our marriage.

We lived in Jacksonville, a million person Northeast Florida urban center about an hour and a half north of Palatka. 

The house was dark except for the automatic yard light with an electric eye sensor that illuminated the front driveway as I walked up the front walkway, or rather limped. It had been a raucous evening and I was feeling a lot older than my chronological age of 34; more like 74. But I only had to lug a six pack of Michelob Lights into the house so I made it.

I flipped the kitchen lights on and sat down at the table where we actually ate most of our meals instead of the little dining nook, which was where we were supposed to eat. I screwed the top off one Michelob and took a long swig of the deliciously cold drink and let it slide down my throat. Then another. All the while waiting for the first ring tone from my cell phone.

Nothing. I looked at the pictures that five-year-old Billy had drawn at school in crayon magnetized to the front door of the fridge and a photo of seven-year-old David catching his first pass at a Pop Warner Peewee Football game. 

I felt a little catch in my throat and I consciously fought to avoid tearing up as I looked at David's dark-haired young body caught in the act of his first athletic triumph. He looked like his mother, with her dark hair and lithe frame. Both the boys had their mother's dark hair instead of my sandy blonde and both boys had their mother's light brown eyes instead of my blue ice chips.

I fought down the lump in my throat. They and their mother, had been my world. Until a few hours ago. I was about to lose them all and it was like standing on railroad track in the dark of night watching an oncoming train and being frozen to the track.

I took another swallow and rested my head for a moment against the dark grained wood of the table. I finished off the bottle and made myself get up from the table. Sooner or later the phone would ring, and then eventually the front door would open and I had things to do before that happened.

I walked up to the second floor and the bedroom that Diane and I had shared for five years since we had moved in to this fairly expensive Mandarin neighborhood. We moved there because it had pretty good schools. I taught an introductory English literature class at Jacksonville University, a small private liberal arts college across town, but I liked the Mandarin neighborhood better for the boys than the area around JU so I put up with the hour-long daily commute.

I opened the closet door and in the back found the two suitcases Diane and I had used for our last cruise two years ago to the Bahamas. Then I started opening the drawers and taking out as much of my underwear as I could find. I took a week's worth of slacks, shirts and suit coats out. I had to remember to pack a razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, a few medications, all the things I'd need for a trip away from home.

I leaned over the dresser and felt the urge to vomit. I fought it back. Only this trip was never going to end. It was an exile from everything I loved, or had loved, and I was never going to come back.

If I let myself think about it too much I knew I'd freeze up. So I very methodically went about packing up everything I'd need to start life over as a single man after eight years of marriage.

I found my laptop and a briefcase with work I'd need for the college. I ferried everything down to the hallway that led to the dining room to the left of the front door. They wouldn't' be seen by anyone walking into the house unless they actually walked into the dining room.

When I had gotten everything I could think of, I took the Michelob Six-pack with five beers left in it and went into the den. The front door opened to a hallway which led to the right and then to the den. I sat down in the easy chair at the far end of the den and placed the Michelobs on a glass coffee table in front of me. 

There was a floor lamp behind the easy chair and I left it off. There was a light in the hallway that anyone walking in would flick on. I stood on a chair and loosened the light bulb in the center of the den so that it wouldn't come on when you hit the light switch at the entrance to the den.

With everything prepared I leaned back in the easy chair in the darkness of what had been my home and opened the second Michelob and began to take careful sips. About 11 p.m. the cell phone rang the first time. The fliptop Nokia screen lit up in the darkness and I recognized Diane's cell phone number. I didn't answer it. About three minutes later it beeped that I had a message waiting. I didn't retrieve it.

Five minutes after that it rang again, and then in another three minutes, and another five and ten and then five. Diane called and her father, Richard, and her older brother Dave and her younger sister Kelly and then Diane again. 

If there had been any humor left in the world, the parade of phone numbers would have struck me as funny. But funny had died a few hours ago and I didn't think I'd find anything funny again for a long time, if ever. The house phone rang, and the cell phone and then the house phone. I just finished the second Michelob and started on the third.

Time crawled by and like the traitor it was, refused to run backwards so that the day that destroyed my life would unwind and give me a second chance. But even as I expressed that common human wish, I knew inside that what had happened had been coming for longer than one day and I'd have to unwind time back at least eight years to undo the damage, and that wasn't going to happen.

############## ############ ##############

It was a cool November, but not bad. The RV park and cabins near Lake Como south of Palatka, were usually almost deserted this time of year. So it was a good place for Richard Carter and his clan and friends to hold their monthly dance/get together/parties in a quiet place where no one would complain about noise or call the cops and people could relax.

Carter and his wife Ricki had raised a brood of nine boys and girls, eight still surviving and when all the kids got together along with other family members like uncles and aunts and friends, there was usually a crowd of a hundred or more adults. 

Richard and Ricki had built a road paving/asphalt company that made them millionaires by the time they'd reached their late 60s and they enjoyed hosting the Saturday monthly parties. There was always southern rock, and fried chicken and ribs and oysters in season and plenty of beer and hard liquor for any body's tastes.

Diane and I didn't make it every month, but we tried to get there as often as possible. Richard and Ricki had done their best to welcome a Yankee stranger from the foreign land of Massachusetts into their family, even though I knew there were times they had a hard time understanding me and the way I made my living. 

I didn't sell cars or repair them or build houses or lay down parking lots or make money in any of the ways that everybody else in their group did. I stood in front of bored young men and women and talked about poetry and novels and essays and stuff that most of the Carter clan understood little and cared about less.

The drinking usually started about noon. Cabins were available for anyone who needed them to sleep off too much booze, as well as a few RVs. Diane and I had sent the boys to a friends' house whose parents we trusted. They knew we might be back tonight or Sunday morning. We watched their kids when they needed us.

There was an old concrete dance pavilion that was only used basically when the Carter parties were held and a loudspeaker was set up. We ate and drank a little bit while people drifted in and started drinking. By 5 p.m. it was dusk and the music got louder and the drinking got more intense. 

Diane walked around talking to people while I stood by one of the tables still laden with food and ate a few grapes. In the twilight she glimmered like a ghost in a light white dress that clung to her hips accentuating her full ass and 36c breasts that looked bigger than that. Her hair was long and swung behind her and I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful woman.

Sometimes I'd just watch her for hours at these parties because dancing and drinking are not my things, just watch her and marvel that an outsider had been able to come in and steal her away from a horde of horny southern suitors who wanted that body and face in their beds.

As usual, drinking and dancing and luscious women and horny men didn't make for the most peaceful mix. One of sister Kelly's old beaus got her out dancing to a particularly snaky tune and was able to dry hump her in front of everybody until her husband Billy stalked out there and laid him out with a thunderous right cross.

Cooler heads prevailed, beer flowed and before a few minutes passed the two men had shook hands, the old beau got a kiss from his old sweetheart and Billy and Kelly were wandering off looking for a dark spot to do the dirty deed, which they usually did at every party.

The pavilion started to get crowded, with even Richard and Ricki moving to the beat of some Southern rock when I noticed I'd lost track of Diane. When I spotted her my stomach tightened. She was dancing a slow dance with a tall, dark-haired man in a calico shirt and jeans. She had melted into his arms and I could see his big hands sliding up and down her back, almost down over her ass although I saw her move his hands off when they got too low.

Bobby Trescott had been one of the guys chasing her before I showed up at the insurance officer where she was working to transfer my auto insurance to her company. For some reason she seemed to take a liking to the stranger with the even stranger accent and six months later we were married. Bobby had never taken her decision well.

He still called and came by sometimes and Diane insisted on viewing him as a friend rather than an ex-boyfriend. At these parties, he always wound up dancing inappropriately close, touching place he shouldn't touch and usually make some smartass comments to and about me, to the general amusement of many.

I made my way through the twilight toward the two of them, watching the way they moved together. I couldn't help but be jealous. Diane had been drinking. Not enough to be drunk but enough to be relaxed and kind of melt against him.

I got close enough and said loud enough for them to hear, "Hi, Bobby. Mind if I cut in?"

Diane looked at me with no guilt and smiled lazily, "Hi, baby, I was just dancing a little with old Bobby. I promised him this dance. It's the dance from our Prom. You don't mind if I finish it with him, do you?"

Bobby grinned at me and so I could see it, slipped his left hand up and under her blouse to cup her breast. Because of the twilight only the three of us could see what he was doing. Diane gave him a funny look and then looked at me. I tried to read her expression. Was she angry at him for what he was doing or me for letting him?

I tried to be cool but it slipped away from me. 

"Bobby, get your fucking hand off my wife's breast."

His smile grew wider.

"Or what, Lyle? Jesus Christ! What kind of man's name is Lyle? That sounds like a little girl? Hey, Lyle....That is so damned gay."

I hesitated. I hadn't been in a fistfight in 20 years.

"I don't care what you think about my name. Get your hands off my wife."

Diane took her hand and pushed his hand so he released her breast. 

"Alright Bobby, cool it. Why do you always have to be an asshole around Lyle. He's my husband. He's not a roughhouser like you. You are always trying to get him into a fight because you know you'd kick his ass. It's not fair. And Lyle, I'm not some little girl. Bobby is a little drunk, but I can handle him. I've known him most of my life. You don't need to come out here making a scene trying to RESCUE me. Hell, I'd probably have to rescue you."

I couldn't believe my ears. I knew now that several of the couples around us had heard the exchange and I heard snickering.

"What the hell did you just say?"

Her eyes widened and I wondered if she had even thought about what she had said.

"Oh, Lyle, I'm sorry, baby. I ..I didn't mean it that way..."

"How the hell could you mean that?"

Bobby pushed her to one side.

"She meant that if you get in my face I'll kick your ass and smash your face in, you damned pencil-neck geek. The only reason I haven't done it before is that she keeps begging me not to hurt you. What kind of fucking man hides behind his wife's skirts?"

I couldn't resist.

"Somebody that can count beyond ten without using his fingers, you redneck moron. Somebody that came in and took your girl away from you without working up a sweat. Somebody who made two babies with her. Something I'm not even sure you could do, or if you have the equipment for."

I saw the swing coming even as I sensed people coming up from behind us. I was moving to get out of the way when my foot slipped on what was probably somebody's spilled drink. I went down on my ass and hit my head on the concrete landing. Diane's brother Dave and a friend of his got to Bobby and grabbed him by both arms.

I hit hard and it knocked the wind out of me. I was stunned for a moment. Bobby didn't try to shake off the guys holding his arms, probably feeling he'd gotten the best of the exchange.

"As to who's got the better equipment, Lyle why don't you ask Diane sometime. She used to think my equipment was pretty goddamned good and I hear a pencil would fill her up more that the equipment you've got. She told me one time that pencil dick is a good name for you."

Richard Carter came up behind us then and said in a hard voice, "Alright Bobby. Enough. We let you come to these parties because you're an old friend. But you're over the line. Get out of here."

I looked up then at Bobby's grinning face and glanced around at other faces around me. I could see the smiles, or the desperate attempts not to smile. And then I looked at my beloved wife's serious face and I knew she was another one fighting it. She thought it was funny and as I looked at her she deliberately turned her face away, toward her father.

"Daddy, no. Bobby was just drinking. He didn't mean anything by it. You know he and Lyle are fussing, but it doesn't mean anything. And anyway, I did promise him that dance."

Even Richard Carter looked at his daughter in disbelief.

"You are sure that's what you want, Diane? After what Bobby said about your husband?"

She looked back at me, without smiling.

"Lyle is a grown man, Daddy. If he's upset by anything Bobby does, he knows what he can do about it. Don't you baby?"

I got my hands under me and got to my feet. I just turned around and walked away from my wife. Bobby started laughing. I heard snickering and I wanted desperately to believe that Diane wasn't among them, but I wasn't about to turn around to see for sure.

As I walked off the dance landing Richard caught up to me and talked as I walked away.

"Son, I know you're pissed right now. But listen to me. I know Diane loves you, whether you believe it now or not. But....women...listen, sometimes a woman, even the best woman, wants to know her man will fight for her. They may not do it up where you come from, but down here, a woman won't respect a man who backs down from another man trying to move in on her. You do what you think is right, but even if Bobby beats the crap out of you, at least fighting him will show her that you care enough to fight for her.

I kept walking.

"You're right, Richard, women don't do that where I come from. A good woman doesn't give some cunt sniffing hound encouragement to get into a situation where her husband has to fight for her. Not if they love their husband, not if they've got a real marriage going. Now I'm not so sure of either."




Moment of Clarity



He grabbed my arm and I had enough respect for him not to jerk away.

"Maybe, maybe you're right about...her lack of respect for you. I'm just her daddy. I can't get in the middle of this, but I can tell you she loves you. Don't do anything stupid right now. Just get somewhere and have a drink and cool down. This will all work itself out."

"Maybe..." and then I did walk away from him.

############## ##################### #########

The driveway lit up with the lights of a car pulling into our driveway at 12:45 a.m. I was down to one and a half Michelobs and I was feeling fairly mellow. I heard car doors open, and voices. I had opened the window next to the easy chair, although it made the house chilly. But when people parked because of the way the driveway slanted unless they were whispering it was like they were standing next to the window and I could usually hear every word.

"He's here." It was big brother Dave. "Thank God."

"The son of a bitch. He's a sorry bastard."

"Cool it. I know you're sober now. After showing your ass that way, just be glad he's here and not off screwing some random piece of tail, the way most guys would."

"You shut up. He's my fucking husband, a big fucking baby that walks away sucking his thumb when his feelings get hurt and leaves his wife. What kind of husband does that."

"The kind whose wife is rubbing her pussy all over an ex boyfriend right in front of him, you dumb bitch. If you weren't my sister and you didn't have those boys, I'd tell him to just dump your ass and go out and find somebody who wouldn't humiliate him in public."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Diane had always been a good little churchgoing Southern girl. Damn and heck were the strongest words I'd ever heard her use, even in bed. Now she was saying 'fucking?' It had indeed been one hell of a night.

The front door opened they walked in. A moment later the hallway light flipped on and light invaded the den. But it only reached the center of the den. I sat in darkness.

Dave walked into the den first, Diane on his heels. He looked around and saw my shape sitting in the shadows in the easy chair. He just looked at me for a moment and then said, "Hi, Lyle."

"Hello Dave."

There was what seemed like an interminable silence. I wasn't going to be the first to speak to her. Finally she said, "Lyle."

"Diane," I said in the same flat, emotionless tone.

"Are you all right?" Dave asked.

"Fine, thanks for asking."

"You bastard!" 

She blurted it out as if a cork had popped and she couldn't contain herself any longer.

"I love you too, bitch."

She tensed and if Dave hadn't held his arm out I think she might have launched herself at me. Her hair was wild, her face flushed, lipstick long gone, the white dress had blood on it (blood?) and was creased and there were dirt spots on it. It must indeed have been a hell of a party after I left.

"Smartass, always some smart crack. You think it was funny leaving me alone, not telling anyone where you were going, just vanishing. What kind of man does that?"

"I don't know, probably some pencil-dicked coward too frightened to fight a man who was rubbing his wife's tits with her permission in front of all their friends and family."

She had the decency to flush while Dave gave her a dirty look.

"You had us worried, man," Dave said. "Why didn't you answer your phone, any of your phones?"

"I didn't feel like talking to anybody."

He rubbed his chin and looked from Diane to me.

"I guess...I guess I'll leave you guys to talk then. It's been a long night, a hell of a night. I'm getting too old for this crap. You sure you're okay, Lyle?"

"I was just being polite, Dave. I'm not alright. I don't know that I ever will be again. But it's not your problem. Thanks for getting Diane home. If it had been up to me, she could have gone home with Bobby or set up camping at the RV park."

He gave both of us another look and then just shook his head. Then he looked over at Diane.

"I'll leave then, Lyle. Let you guys – work things out. Diane, walk me out, okay?"

From their voices I could tell they were standing by his Chevy Tahoe.

"Goddamn him, Dave. He's such an asshole. Any other guy would have waded into Bobby, or gotten drunk or done something human. He walks off and sulks at home. He's not-"

"I would have kicked Bobby's ass, and so would Tommy and most of the guys we know. Lyle isn't like that. He's not a fighter. You knew that when you decided to go after him. You remember. I remember very well. You said he wasn't one of those guys who'd come home with grease under their fingers, give you six or seven kids, get drunk every weekend and screw around on you when you put on a few pounds. You said, and I quote, "he's a man who's going to go places. He'll provide for me and our children and be faithful to me and give us a good life. He's a good man."

"You wanted something better and you got it and now you're getting antsy and doing that pussy dance that means if Bobby isn't getting any he probably will be. I used to be proud of you, Diane, but now I'm wondering if you're not just another hot pants slut that's going to wind up divorced four or five times, dragging new boyfriends home every few weeks and making Mom and Dad cry when they think about the mess you've made out of your life."

"Oh Dave, grow up. I'm not stupid. I was feeling antsy, maybe horny, but I'm not 17. I was playing with Bobby because it felt good for one night to feel like a teenager again. My husband should have grabbed me and made me behave, but I forgot who I'm married to. He's pissed right now, but he'll get over it. It was one night and one fight. I'll go in there and give him some loving and this will all pass. People don't – break up – because of one fight."

"You damn well better, sister. You think because I build houses that I don't know anything about your dear husband. I have clients and partners whose kids go to JU. They talk about Lyle. He's young and he's got his hair and he's smart and a lot of those coeds think he's cute. There have been time's he'd have gotten laid for an "A' or even a "C". 

"And there were female professors. One – well let's just say she was so open about chasing him that the Dean had to tell her to cool it or they'd have to take action. So you go in there and blow him or do whatever you got to do. You lose him and he won't be sitting and crying into his beer for long."

She came back in and stood at the entrance to the den for another long moment. Neither of us said anything. Then she started to cross the den toward me. I held my hand up.

"Stop. Grab a chair and sit over there by the TV."

It surprised her. I could read it on her face. She was expecting to come over, kneel at my feet, cuddle for a moment and then started the kissing which would lead to the bedroom. But it wasn't going to happen.

She took a deep breath. 

"I know...Lyle...I know I acted like a complete shit out there tonight. You don't need to read me the riot act. Everybody else already has. Jesus Christ, everybody acts like you're blood and I'm the outsider. But, I was drinking, you know that. 

"And Bobby...you know Bobby and I have a history. We go way back. We met in elementary, would you believe? And – you have to know this...he's still in love with me. He never got over me choosing you as my husband. I know it's not right, but I feel sorry for him – so sorry – sometimes."

"So you're going to ease his pain by fucking him?"

Anger flared in her eyes. 

"He's hurting. A little flirting makes him feel better. Nothing else was going to happen, until you came in like a big man and got things rolling. You didn't need to. He's a friend. You're my husband, the man I love. "

After another moment she sat in a straight back chair. It wasn't the most comfortable in the world, which was what I wanted.

"Not to change the subject, Diane, but I'm curious about something. I left the campground about 8. My phone didn't start ringing until 11. I know the campground is a big place and a lot of stuff was going on, but after that little incident it took you three hours to realize I was nowhere to be found? You must really have been feeling guilty about what happened to realize I'd vanished in only three hours. 

"I guess if we hadn't had that little set to you wouldn't have realized I was missing until the next morning. That tells me how important I am in your life."

Anger flared in her eyes and she was about to say something when she thought of something and stopped.

"My god, Lyle, you don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"All hell broke loose after – after you left. I did forget about you. Everybody did for a little while. But it doesn't mean I don't care for you. It's just –"

"Enough, what happened?'

"After, afterwards, Bobby and I danced for a little while. I know I shouldn't have, but I was so damned pissed at you. I – I know you don't – fight. But...God this makes me sound like I'm 13, but I was hurt that you didn't at least take a swing at Bobby. If he'd put down you, I'd have been all over you loving and comforting you. I wanted to. You're my husband, but you walked away. 

"So yeah, I was pissed. I danced with him. And you know Bobby, he was drinking. So after a few minutes he went off to pee. Knowing Bobby I figured he'd either go to the lake or behind one of the cabins. 

"I got to talking with some people and didn't think anything more about Bobby for awhile. After about a half-hour I started to wonder where he'd gone. I wasn't worried about you because you usually wander off and we don't reconnect until later in the evening. 

"Then I heard a scream and everybody started running toward the lake. People were crowded around someone lying on the ground. I tried to get closer and then I realized it was Bobby. It was terrible. His face was covered with blood. One eye was swelling shut. They told me his arm was broken and he had some fingers broken as well.

"Dave and some of the others were talking to him and I heard them say somebody had to call the Sheriff. Three biker types had gotten in Bobby's face, saying stuff about the old fart party messing up their party. When they got to arguing, all three of them started in on Bobby. He said a few of them would be limping and hurting for awhile, but there were too many of them.

"Everything got hectic then. We called rescue for Bobby and the Sheriff's Office sent three cruisers and they were checking the park for see if the bikers were still there or if anybody else was there and then after awhile people started checking to make sure that everybody was accounted for."

I took in what she had told me and an obvious question occurred to me.

"Still, it took you three hours total and some time after you knew there were some bad bikers wandering the park to wonder where your beloved husband went? I repeat. I must really rank high on your list of important people."

She bit her lip and wouldn't look at me. It dawned on me.

"You weren't at the park, were you? You want with Bobby to the hospital. You had to hold his hand, didn't you?"

She finally looked at me.

'He was beat up so damned bad, Lyle. He was hurting and he asked me if I would ride with him. I couldn't say –"

"-No-, could you. That seems to be a pattern developing here. You just can't say no to Bobby."

"Don't do this, Lyle. It was a decent, human thing to do. If you weren't so mad at me, you'd know that."

"Of course, he was an old friend. An old friend you used to fuck before I came along. You had to be there for him in his time of need. You did fuck him back then, didn't you?"

She looked down at the floor, shook her head and then met my eyes again.

"Yes, Lyle. You knew that. We were serious back then and I wasn't any little girl. We used to fuck. Does that make you feel better. And before you ask, he was good. Very good. Does that make me a slut? How about you? I know damn well you weren't a virgin when we married. Should I be jealous of every woman you were ever with before me?"

"No. That was then. This is now."

"Yeah. He asked me to ride with him and I did. I held his hand, the one that they hadn't broken the fingers on. There was a ER tech in there with us and there were people around us every second we were in the ER in Palatka where they were patching him up. Nothing happened, Lyle, and even if we were alone, messing with me was the last thing on his mind. You have nothing to be jealous of."

"Did I say I was jealous."

"You don't have to. I see it in your face every time he's near me. I guess, I guess I can't blame you. If you were always with another woman I knew you'd been with, it would eat at me."

"Did you ever think about me?"

She lowered her eyes again and wouldn't look me in the eye. 

"Lyle, you know that's not a fair question. So much was going on. Bobby was hurt, everybody was calling everybody else..."

"So the answer is no. When did, and who did eventually start to wondering about me?"

She continued to look at the floor.

"They treated Bobby and his brother showed up to get him home. I went back to the campground with Kelly and Billy. When I got there Daddy came up to me and asked me if I'd seen you since..."

"That's wonderful, Diane. Your FATHER thinks enough of me to remember I'd gone missing, before my wife did."

She looked up at me and I could see tears glistening in her eyes.

"Keep it up, Lyle. I screwed up and you're going to hurt me as bad as you can for what I did. Good one. I feel just a little bit shittier now."

"Sorry, I guess a guilty conscience hurts, doesn't it. It's hard for me to tell because I haven't been screwing around on you."

She just looked at me and dropped her gaze to the floor again.

We were both silent for a moment.

"Well, at least we got the air cleared, honey."

She looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face.

"What?"

"I stayed here because I wanted to have a chance to talk to you before I – leave."

"Leave, where are you going? You're not still pissed off at me are you?"

I took in the sight of her: dirty, disheveled, blood on the white dress, and thought I'd never seen anything so beautiful before. And I never would again.

"I've got to run an errand, something I put off until I had a chance to talk to you. Then I'm going to find a place to spend the night, some cheap motel, and Monday I'll be arranging a permanent place to stay and meeting with an attorney."

"A place to...spend the night? Attorney? Lyle, are you crazy? What are you talking about? We just had a fight? A bad one, but I love you. People don't – split – because of one fight. What happened to you, Lyle? We were happy this morning. What could have happened in less than 24 hours to make you want to leave me?"

I didn't answer her, just pointed beyond her to the hallway leading to the kids' bedrooms.

"Go," I said. 

She got up slowly and walked into the other room. I knew she'd see the suitcases, the laptop, my briefcase.

She walked back into the den every more slowly, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe what she'd seen,.

"You are insane, Lyle. You are walking out on me and our two sons...because of one fight! One stupid mistake I made while I was drunk a few hours ago. I didn't have sex with anyone. I didn't betray you. You are certifiable."

When I didn't answer she started toward me and I held my hand up again to stop her.  She backed up but didn't sit down.

"Can you tell me why? Can't you at least do that?"

"I had a moment of clarity."

I could see she had no idea what I was talking about.

"A moment of clarity? Why do you do that, Kyle? I know you think you're smarter than I am, than anybody in my family, anybody around here. But why can't you avoid rubbing our noses in the fact that we're morons compared to you. Put it in words I can understand."

She was right. I did take my intellectual superiority to Diane and her family too much for granted. I hadn't ever realized how much of an asshole I was simply because I worked with my head instead of my hands and had gone far beyond anywhere Diane's family had in their education.

"I'm sorry Diane. I really am. I don't mean to do that. It's just that's the way professors of English Literature think and talk. It's not that hard to explain, actually. We, all of us, walk around never really seeing what our whole lives are all about. 

"We're blinded by all the minutiae of our existences – waking up and brushing our teeth and going to work and paying bills and what's on TV tonight and the kids having colds and wondering if we're getting fat or if our husbands or wives are looking at other people. We never step back and get a picture of where our lives are. Except, once in a rare while."

I stopped for a moment, then added, "I had a moment of clarity earlier tonight."

"You keep saying that, but what does it mean? What did you see?'

I had to force the words out. It was the hardest speech I'd ever made, would ever make, because I knew that I was killing our life together, killing my life with the two boys I loved more than life itself. But she deserved to know why I was leaving.

"I saw our life, Diane. I saw what we are, what we were, and what we've become. It had nothing to do – or very little – with what happened at the party. You're right, to walk out because of one fight, one mistake, one incident, would be crazy. That's not why I'm leaving. 

"I'm leaving because I realized our marriage was a mistake, that I love you but you don't love me, that I have never and probably never will satisfy you sexually the way you need to be satisfied, that you're a good woman deep down and you will never leave me because you honor your promises, and that we're too young to screw up each other's lives for the next 40 or 50 years. That's why I'm leaving when we finish our conversation..,"

She shook her head again and this time the tears did flow. I knew she was crying for a life that was ending, just like I was. The fact that she didn't love me the way I loved her didn't mean there was no love there. Just not enough.

"How can you say those things, Lyle? How can you be that cruel?'

"Look at me, Diane. Answer me two questions, and if I'm wrong, I'll rethink what I just said."

A look of fear crossed her face and I knew that somehow she knew what I was going to ask her.

"Have you ever cheated on me, baby? Have you been with another man since we married?"

She was mute. The look on her face answered the question.

"Thanks, that's one of the reasons I love you. You could have lied, or tried half-truths. But you're too good a woman. You can't lie and you won't tell me the truth you know will break my heart. But we both know the answer to that. You just answered. Silence is eloquent."

"And the second question. Are you in love with me, Diane?"

"I love you, Lyle. How the hell can you ask me that. No matter ...what...you have to know I love you."

"That wasn't the question I asked, Diane. Are you IN LOVE with me?"

"I don't understand.."

"You love your father and your mother and our boys and your brothers and sisters. I know you'd give your life for them. 

"But being IN LOVE is different. It's having your breath catch in your throat when you look at a man that makes your heart beat faster, that makes you wet when he kisses the side of your throat and rubs your breasts, that you dream about and want when he's not around. 

"It's the way I feel about you. I don't know if you felt like that about me when we were married, but I know you don't feel that way now. You'd make a good sister to me, but you're not a wife."

"Is that it?" She stood up and started toward me. "Is this all about sex, Lyle? Is that what it's really all about. You're sorry because I'm not some sort of slut in bed with you. I know I don't – orgasm much, but I love sex with you. It doesn't have to be all rockets and fireworks. It can be quiet and good too."




Moment of Clarity



I got up and walked into the light to meet her. As I entered the light the breath caught in her throat and she staggered backwards.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped.

"You've never screamed for me, Diane. You know that? You've never screamed your head off while cumming with me inside you, like you have for someone else. You just lay there and let me do my thing. You honestly think I can't tell how bored you are with my lovemaking?"

She stopped backing up and reached out with one shaking hand and tenderly touched one side of my face, the fingers gingerly feeling the swollen flesh that surrounded by a nearly shut left eye. I knew the rest of my face consisted of various shades of yellow, red and brown. My lips were swollen except for a chunk missing from the left side.

"Oh, my God, they found you and beat you too. Why didn't you go to the hospital and get some medical help?"

I tried to smile and that in itself must have been scary as hell judging from the expression on Diane's face.

"You oughta see the other guy."

I saw from the expression that slowly dawned on her face that she was realizing what my face meant.

############### ################# ###############

I stood in the darkness toward the lake side of the RV park, listening to the music, imagining I still heard wisps of laughter from the people around Diane and Bobby. I didn't have to go back to know she was dancing with him. 

I could have gone back and faced down Bobby. I'd been beaten up before, back in the days when I'd run the streets of South Boston as a wild fatherless kid. Been beaten up a lot as an undersized shrimp trying to stay with 16 and 17-year-olds before my mother finally wised up and moved us to a small town south of Boston and away from gangs.

I didn't mind the beating, if it came to that and it probably would because I didn't' fool myself that I could take him in a fair fight. He was bigger and stronger and undoubtedly tougher than a guy who made his living standing in a classroom running his mouth,

But it was the look in her eyes as she dared me to do something about Bobby's insults, the way she had let him hold her and rub her down, the easy familiar way his hands had roamed over her...

I think I'd always known, but now I couldn't make myself ignore the truth that he was fucking her. Sometime, somewhere, another man had the center of my life all to himself and she was sharing with him things that she would never share with me. How do you have a life when it's built on a lie?

I leaned against a tree and stared up at the cloudy night sky and wondered how you turned around a life that had gone off track somewhere back and make it right again

How do you forgive a woman who is your entire life when she's giving her body and probably her love to another man. I wondered if they laughed about me when they were together. Had she really called me a pencil-dick? Was I that small or was he that huge? I didn't think I was tiny down there. At least I'd never gotten any complaints.

I heard the stumbling of a body crashing through weeds and bouncing off trees as somebody staggered toward the lake. Coming to a stop about a dozen feet away from me, facing the dark lake, he never even looked back at me but unzipped and let a stream go. I heard the piss hitting the leaves of bushes in front of him.

Even from the rear I knew who it was. I didn't intend to do anything. Pounding on people was the asshole way. It never really solved anything.

So I was surprised as hell as he gave his dick one last shake and tucked it in, turning to go back, to find myself hitting him in the side of the face with everything I had on the run so it had even more force behind the blow. He spun and fell without a word, only groaning as he hit the ground. 

Before he could get himself up on his hands I kicked him as hard as I could in the stomach, lifting his whole body This time he grunted hard. I tried again to kick him in the balls, but this time he turned enough to catch the kick on a thigh and grabbed my foot as I was drawing it back and threw me away from him. Off balance I fell backwards.

By the time I was up on my elbows staring through the dark night he was up on his hands and knees. He touched his forehead with a finger and I saw something dark and shiny. I'd tore the flesh with my glancing punch, probably with the college ring on my right hand that had two diamonds held in place with small prongs. 

"I'll be damned, Lyle. I didn't think you had it in you, you pussy. Of course, you had to sneak up on me, but at least you had the balls to try to hit me. But now I'm going to hurt you bad, real bad, boy. And I'll be in the right cause I'll tell everyone including Diane how you sucker punched me."

I was trying to get up when he launched himself at me. I went down under his bigger, heavier body, trying to wriggle myself free. Lifting himself a little, he raised his fist. I didn't even see it hit, but it did hurt like hell. It felt like somebody had hit the side of my head with a metal gong. There was a ringing in my ears and the vision in that eye went black for an instant.

Then something smashed into my nose and blood was everywhere and I couldn't breath for an instant. Before I could recover from that the world exploded again and I couldn't see anything. I wondered if he had blinded me but pushing him off for a second I realized it was just a flow of blood into both eyes blinding for a moment.

I was able to move my head just enough and I was never really sure how I ever knew to move it so that his next punch sailed past me and he lost his balance and went over. I scrambled to my feet and as he rose to his knees I smashed his face with bottom of my shoe and reveled in the sight of the spray of blood as I felt his nose and cartilage crunch under my heel. 

He fell backwards grunting and making sounds that weren't words. I tried to kick him again but somehow he avoided the thrust and buried his big fist deep in my gut and then pushed me off and away. I fell backwards gasping for air. Every time I breathed it felt like something sharp was trying to push its way out of my chest. The bastard had broken my ribs. 

He rolled backwards and came up on hands and knees. In the darkness, his ruined nose and grunting reminded of a dangerous wild boar that I'd gone hunting with Richard Clark one day early in my marriage; sort of a bonding experience I guess. The look in his eyes wasn't human. And now I started to get scared. He wasn't just going to hurt me. I think he'd lost it and he'd kill me if he could.

I had to get up because I couldn't let him take me down again. I knew if he got me down this time, he pound me to death using his superior weight and strength.

I didn't know I could do it, but as he lunged at me I managed to lurch up and out of the way. He came down his hands and knees again, bracing himself on his left hand, his right arm out trying to catch his balance. I didn't think, I just reacted. I think I must have seen the move on some martial arts or UFC match sometime. I grabbed his right arm, held it out and came down on his back elbow and upper arms with both knees and all my weight.

I heard and felt something, maybe somethings, snap and he screamed. He rolled to and fro trying to shake me off but I held on like a bull terrier, tugging and jerking at the damned arm over and over. He finally went onto his back and before he try to kick me off, I came down with both knees on his elbow and upper arm from the other side this time. 

He tried to scream but it was choked off as if he couldn't breath. I kicked the elbow again, and then again, and then just leaned on it with all my weight and kept it there while he wriggled like a fish trying to get off a hook.

Finally I let it go and fell backward. I wasn't afraid of him anymore. He held the arm to himself and just rolled back and forth on his back in the grass. He was gasping and crying.

I probably should have felt worse about what I had done to him, but the bastard had stolen my wife and probably destroyed my marriage and he'd cost me my two sons. So I had a hard time feeling too bad.

As he moaned I realized that I could still hear the faint sound of Southern Rock from the land. There were no screams, no one calling out. No one had heard anything.

I rolled back toward him and grabbed the injured right arm. He tried to swing at me, but jerking it away from him a couple of times brought screams and an end to his resistance. 

"You asshole. You already broke my arm. I give, damn you. You win. I'm going to need some help, need to go to the hospital."

"In a little while, Bobby. Let's take care of some other business, first."

"Fuck you. I'll call for help myself."

After I punched his already swelling elbow a couple of times he thought better of that. 

I grabbed his right hand and pulled it away from his body. He didn't have the strength to stop me. I took his little finger and held it in my right hand, with my left leaning down to immobilize his arm.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, Bobby, and you're going to tell me the truth."

"Fuck you fuck you fuck you. Eat my dick, you Yankee cunt."

I grabbed the little finger firmly and yanked it back until I heard the joint pop and it just dangled at the end of his hand. His eyes opened wide and he would have screamed if I hadn't hit him as hard as I could in his solar plexus, knocking his air out. He coughed and gasped for air and moaned. I waited until I thought he was listening to me again.

"Every time you lie, or I don't like your answer, I'm going to break another finger, Bobby, and when I run out of fingers, I'm going to start on toes and then I'll find some other bones to work on. You understand me?"

He finally nodded, then said softly, "You're on top, Lyle, so I'll tell you whatever you want. But there will come a day when I'm on top. And when I do, I think you're just going to vanish. Your body's going to wind up in the 20-mile swamp and no one will ever know what happened to you."

"Maybe, but for right now, I want to know how long you've been fucking Diane."

He was silent for a moment.

"This time, or before?"

"I already know you were fucking her when I met her. I mean since we've been married."

He smiled. I was tempted to break another finger but I wanted to save them in case I really needed them.

"About four years."

"Four years!"

"Yeah."

"How- how did it happen. How...often?"

There was a gloating smile but it vanished and from his tone I believed his words.

"I was after her from the day after you married her. I tried everything, showed up at her work, just stopped by the house, played sad, tried to make her laugh. But she would never cheat on you. It drove me crazy. 

"Then one day, about four – four and a half years ago, she came up to me as I was coming out of a 7-11. She wasn't smiling or flirty, but she asked me if I'd like to go somewhere for coffee. We didn't' do anything that day, or for another six months, but she came after me.

"And then one day we wound up at my house and she went crazy on me. She sucked me off, fucked me, made me take her asshole, tittyfucked me, did every damn thing a woman could to you. She acted like she was starving for it. 

"God, it was great. I tried to get four years worth of sex in one day and we almost managed it."

He tried to laugh, but choked and had to lean his head over and spit out blood and what looked like the white sliver of a tooth.

He breathed slowly and then said, "I thought I had her back again. I thought she'd leave you. I came by your house the next day and she slugged me when I tried to grab her tit. She screamed at me and swore she'd call the cops and have me arrested for rape. I wanted to kill her, I was so mad. She was just a cheating lying whore. So I left. And I didn't see her for three months. I tried to stay away from her. Man, I was never so pissed in my life. And then one day-"

He spit again and laid his head back in the grass.

"She showed up at my place. Not a word, just walked in, dropped to her knees, unzipped me and sucked me until I came all over her. We went into the bedroom and didn't come out for 48 hours. She told me you'd taken the boys up to see your mom in Massachusetts and were going to be gone for a week. We fucked for five days off and on."

He shook his head and looked up at me with what almost seemed like a friendly smile, a guy smile in that ruin of a face.

"Shit, we're all stupid as hell when they wave pussy in our faces. I thought I had her again, but as soon as you came back, she wouldn't give me the time of day. When I came over while you were there she'd be friendly, but that was it. No touchee, no fuckee otherwise."

He tried to move the hand I had immobilized but could only wince when I put the tiniest bit of pressure on it.

"And that's the way it's been the last four years. Every three or four months she'll come around and we'll fuck our brains out for a day or two and then she goes back to you and it's as if it never happened."

I tried to process what he'd told me. This wasn't any one night stand. Four years. Four fucking years she'd been stabbing me in the back. Enjoying a life with a guy who didn't have grease under his fingernails and who gave her a good life and the only thing she had to do was put up with his boring fucking.

He screamed again and bucked upwards but I was able to hold him down until he stopped trembling. 

"Sorry about that. I didn't even plan to break that one. I just lost it for a minute."

"I'm gonna kill you, slow..."

I didn't want to know, but it was like pulling a scab off a hurting sore. I had to do it. I grabbed another finger and he almost tried to hit me awkwardly before he realized I could just keep hurting him and he couldn't stop me.

"So she stayed with me for the money? Otherwise she would have left me for your big dick? Is that it?"

He moaned softly under his breath and then surprised me by laughing.

"You fucking idiot. You don't get it, do you?"

"What don't I get?"

"She never needed your money, asshole. I drive a backhoe and I make almost as much as you do, according to what she told me in bed one time. And you know that Richard and Ricki have got it all set up to split all their money before they die. In a few years she's gonna be able to buy and sell you, shithead. You're no fucking prize money wise."

"Then why?"

"She loves you, you fucking asshole. Why I'll never know."

"She loves me so she fucks you?"

"Jesus H. Christ. You don't have a fucking clue, do you? She gets more out of her vibrator than she's ever gotten from you. She told me once she could go to sleep while you're fucking her. That's how exciting YOU are. She tries to be faithful to you, but sooner or later she gets so horny she could scream and she comes to me. 

"And I make her scream. You know, dumbass, I've never fucked her that I didn't make her scream when I came. I used to tease her by calling her the screamer when we dated. She was the wildest woman I ever fucked. And you put her to sleep."

He looked up at me then and for the first time in my life I was tempted to kill a man. I probably could have killed him.

I settled for snapping another finger, pressed my upper arm into his throat to choke off his scream.

When he stopped trying to scream I ease off him and grabbed his pants zipper and unzipped him. He tried to stop me but I fished his limp cock out of his pants and squeezed, hard. 

"Please..." he moaned. 

"Please what?" I said squeezing a little harder. It must not have been too erotic because he didn't get hard, but he did hurt.

"It occurs to me, lover boy, that maybe I can't satisfy her like you can, but I can damn well make sure you never please her or any other woman again. Just yank real hard or use that pocket knife I've got in my left pants pocket. 

"You remember that guy whose wife cut his dick off years ago. He became a porno star after they sewed it back on. Well, I think I'm going to walk around the lake, throw it in the water, and with any luck some bass or turtle will swallow the damn thing. Yeah, I'd like that. Turn you into a woman."

I enjoyed the look of fear on his face. For the first time I'd really gotten through his shell. He believed I'd take his manhood. I didn't think he was the kind of man who could live with that.

All at once I wanted to hurl. I was thinking about maiming a man because I couldn't please my slut wife. He was only doing what a lot of guys would do. He wasn't betraying me. She was.

I let his dick go and he tried to roll away from me to protect his privates. I stood up and let his ruined arm and hand drop to the ground. I turned to walk away from him when he said, "You think I'm the bad guy. I'm the bastard that stole your wife and ruined your perfect marriage."

I didn't look back but it sounded like he was crying.

"You're the one who ruined everything. She was going to marry me, you know? She was going to. Those two boys of yours would have been mine. She loved me, or she would have. We had been together since junior high. We were dynamite in bed. We were the same type of people. We would have been happy. 

"And then you show up with your smart mouth and good looks and talking about things she'd never seen or imagined before. And you fooled her into thinking that you were the man for her."

I looked back at him.

"You stupid bastard. I'm the best thing that ever happened to her. You just never have been able to stand it that I took her away from you."

"Yeah, guess you're right smart guy. And see how happy it's made her, and everybody else. She's tried to love you and live without sex and tried to stay in a marriage that's killing her. I lost the woman I loved and should have had. I got to sneak around to be with her and see her go home with you from these parties. 

"And you – you poor fucker. You'll always be a poor second to me in bed. Every time you go to fuck her for the rest of your life, you'll know she's dreaming of me. I don't think I could stand that. But a pussy like you, you might even enjoy it....."

#######    $#######    ######

"You.."

She just stared at me.

"I guess he didn't want to admit that one pencil dick could mess him up so bad so he came up with that story about the bad bikers."

"Is that why?...."

"he told me everything, Diane. And I believe him. People usually don't lie when you're snapping their fingers."

"oh God."

"Four years. Four years. And he made you scream every time? Was he that much bigger than me?"

Tears rolled down her face over the smudges. I couldn't believe a part of me hated her and a large part still loved her.

"No, baby. Maybe a little, but that's not it. It's...it's hard to explain. It was that way from the first time we did it. No other man has ever affected me that way. It was like – it was like I got an electric shock when his stuck his cock inside me. That's not it, but it's the closest I can come to explaining it. And I guess, maybe, if I had told you that..."

"That I bored you to tears..."

"That you didn't excite me the way he did, maybe we could have tried some different things, some toys or even drugs, but....how could I tell you, the man I loved, that another man made sex wonderful and it was just okay with you. I knew you'd never be able to stand that. No man's ego could." 

"So why didn't you leave me if he was that wonderful."

"He wasn't. It was the sex with him that was wonderful. I love you."

I reached out and touched the side of her face, wiping a tear away.

"I know you're not in love with me, but I believe you love me and our marriage. But.."

I left everything else unsaid as I stepped around her and started moving the luggage and laptop into our family Saturn. I'd be leaving her with the bigger Ford Escort for her and the kids. It took me three trips but finally I was through and I stepped back into the house. She didn't seem to have moved.




Moment of Clarity



She put her hands out as if to grab me but left them hanging in the air.

'I don't want this, baby. I don't know how, but there's got to be some way we can fix this."

"Not really."

I leaned forward to kiss her and tasted her tears.

"Our marriage is over. I want to see the boys and stay in their life, but there's no 'us' anymore."

"Because you hate me."

I looked into her glistening eyes.

"No, I love you which is why this is so hard. But you can't breathe life into a corpse."

"We could go to counseling, see a sex therapist. Anything."

"We won't because deep down you don't want to be married to me anymore. I don't think you believe we could ever make it work."

"How can you say that?"

"Remember I said that silence is eloquent. Sometimes silence says more than words. I know you don't really want to save our marriage because ever since I let you know I was leaving, you never said the two things that would have shown me that you still want me. They're the first things I would have said to you, but they never came out of your mouth."

We stared at each other and the question was clear in her eyes.

"You never said, 'Don't go, please don't go'."

As it finally sank in on her she dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands. She was crying as I walked out the door.

THE END



Moment of Shame



My name is Dan, I am married to my wife of 15 years, Sharon.

Anyone who knows me knows very well that I am a voyeur. Lord, I like to catch that peek, the glimpse of the forbidden, the accidental exposure that creates an instant excitement.

Why, I wonder? Nudity, nakedness is everywhere in today's world. My Sharon, knowing me so well, often nudges me to look if she sees something she thinks I might miss. She does love it when I get turned on, knowing I take the fantasy, the thoughts and visions out on her fine body almost always as soon as we get home.

But almost any beach on a warm day will offer bare breasts turned to the Sun, often even full nudity though somewhat more rare.

For those who would take a few seconds to search on the internet, legs can be found spread as widely as is humanly possible, all of the secrets of women's innermost beauty exposed for any who care to look.

The same holds true in nightclubs in our part of the world. Very young and beautiful women display their bodies on stage completely, there are no secrets.

For me, that is just boring. The excitement is somehow in the peek, the illicit "not supposed to see" scenario.

But the situation before us brought both excitement...

...And almost total discomfort.

Our friend Frank and his wife Kate had invited Sharon and I over for dinner, a simple evening with another couple. 

Nothing was said about what the evening was to be like, nothing was expected. We did not know them well, having just met in the last few weeks.

It was dinner with friends. 

I wore blue jeans and T-shirt in deference to the 90° weather, Sharon had on a yellow halter top and pair of shorts that were loose. The legs were baggy but long enough to offer protection of her modesty, since she doesn't bother with undergarments most of the time.

My wife isn't what I would call an exhibitionist. She dresses nicely when we go out, and wears somewhat skimpy outfits on warm days but no blatant nudity. 

I probably would enjoy her being a bit more open, allow a peek now and then to some unsuspecting male. The idea yanks my chain some, but by the same token I don't really push that issue seriously.

My few suggestions and hints that maybe she could "allow" a nipple to peek out or perhaps wear some shorts with loose baggy legs were always met with a laugh and a shake of her head.

But so many times after our banter, her eyes would sparkle and I would reap the rewards, my woman is one hot lady in the privacy of our bedroom.

Yes, this was just a pleasant evening visiting, all that was on our minds.

But after we had finished the fine cold noodle salad and rather crispy chicken off the backyard grill, Frank had leaned over and said something to his wife Kate. She had blushed mildly, a few words passed back and forth we couldn't overhear, and she got up and left the yard, shutting the side door to their house behind her.

I pride myself in being able to read body language, it is part of my trade as a salesman.

Something about Kate suggested reluctance, I shrugged that off as possibly my imagination.

Frank was going on into some detail about his neighbors, mentioning that one woman a couple of doors down often lay out nude on hot days.

That interested me, so the two of us went up to his upstairs balcony to take a look, Sharon was in tow right behind us.

Of course there was no one there, but I could see that if someone was, Frank would have a fine view.

We went back down to the yard, Frank tapped the small keg for a couple more glasses of beer.

"I like to show off Kate sometimes." He said, almost in passing.

"Show off?" I asked, not completely sure what he meant.

"Sure, you know. Nudity, flashing, things like that. It's fun!"

My ears did another instant perk up, Frank was grinning as he handed me the tall foamy glass.

"Really? Sharon and I have talked about it a little bit but she doesn't...." I managed to get out before being poked on the arm by her.

"Kate is pretty willing!" Frank responded, with a huge grin on his face.

Just then the door opened, Kate came out. She had changed into a wraparound light dress, it looked like a cross between a flimsy housecoat and an evening gown.

She looked really nice, I realized she had added some traces of makeup and fixed up her hair which the light breeze had shuffled around quite a bit earlier.

She stopped about ten feet from us and just stood there.

Frank smiled, got up and walked over by the door. This gave him a view of Sharon and I sitting at the wooden table, Kate standing there quietly, looking down.

I was suddenly confused, it all seemed strange. There was something in the air, the mood, I knew something was going to happen.

"Go ahead, Honey." Frank said from about twenty feet away. He was just standing there, his back to the doorway.

Kate hesitated, looked at us and then Frank.

"I don't think....." She started to say.

"Go ahead!" Frank's voice was more insistant now.

Kate looked down again, then her hands came up and untied the strap at her side, She pulled it off her shoulders, lay it aside. She was standing there in nothing but a beige bra and matching panties. Her face flushed.

Then she reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her top, dropping it to the floor beside her.

I sat there surprised, her breasts were pale, her nipples pink with traces of red.

She looked uncomfortable.

Suddenly I was uncomfortable, I glanced at Sharon expecting to see anger or something, all I saw was surprise.

"Frank...." I started to say.

"Relax, she likes it." He had a huge smile on his face, just standing there watching.

I saw Kate look over at him, he nodded pointedly.

She reached down and slid the beige panties down her hips, stepped out of them. Her hands came across and she clenched her fingers, ineffectually trying to cover herself.

She just stood there, looking down at the ground.

"Frank!" I said again, realizing Kate was totally uncomfortable.

"Open your legs, honey." Frank's tone was coaxing.

She hesitated again, then her hands came out to her sides, she took a short step off to the side with her left leg.

Sharon and I both sat in silence, I saw her reach up and push her hair back as she glanced away, then back, her eyes brought to the sudden display of nudity before us.

I looked again at Kate, standing there quietly, saying nothing. The tuft of pubic hair above her prominent lips was the same color as the long waves of brown hair that framed her face. Her breasts showed just a hint of sag, her abdomen was flat, her mound above her vagina formed a beautiful soft "V" shape.

I should have been fully into my voyeuristic mode, instead I was totally uncomfortable.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Frank asked, an obvious catch in his voice.

"Yes." I managed to mutter. "Yes, she is wonderfully beautiful."

I was telling the truth, Kate was beautiful, but not like this, uncomfortable, unwilling.

I looked at Sharon, she looked back.

She mouthed the words.

"We should go."

I stood up, held out my hand and Sharon took it, she got up too.

"Don't you want to touch her, feel her?" Frank blurted.

He sounded like a small child, being deprived of a treat.

"Frank, I...We...We are just not into this." I managed.

His shoulders seemed to slump.

"You do find her beautiful though, don't you?"

"Yes, of course. Amazing!" I managed, Sharon almost exactly matching my words.

We beat a hasty retreat, yet the vision of Kate standing there naked was burned into my mind.

Once home, Sharon and I began to touch, the familar motions of a couple long married, well in practice with each other's bodies.

After we had made love, we lay entertwined in each other's arms.

"Sometimes you would like me to do something like that, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe. Yes... well,... I am not sure." I confessed.

"I think Frank is a controlling asshole." I blurted.

"Kate seemed uncomfortable, reluctant?" Sharon said.

"Yes, I picked up on that. I wouldn't ever try to make you...."

"Well, I might, but not like that. Not because you say so."

"I would never demand...." I started to say.

"I know...I know you won't...But if I ever do?"

"If you ever do what?" I asked, suddenly interested again.

"If I ever do..you know..flash...It will be because I WANT to."

"I know. I won't..."

She smiled, her lips brushing my now firm erection.

"I see your reaction to the idea, maybe one of these days...."

"One of these days what?"

"Maybe I will let some...man..see me!" Sharon opened her legs, she was still engorged, shiny from our lovemaking.

I rolled over, slid up and we joined, so easy, our bodies fit so well.

I had no need to answer.



Moment of the Deer



"You know, the chocolate disks covered with gold foil."

"We don't have those."

"You know, the ones made up like gold coins; they have them every Christmas."

"It's Christmas Eve. We sold out on those more than a week ago."

"I mean my son decided the family could come tomorrow after all at the last minute, and we have those for the grandchildren every year they visit. Well, might you know where I could—?"

"No, I don't," Nancy cut in, anxious to move the line along. "We sold out of those last week." She had, in fact, seen those a day or two before over at CVS, but there was no reason why she should be sending business over there. There was no reason why she should have to work on Christmas Eve at all. People could jolly well think ahead on their needs.

The man just sort of zoned out of her attention. Her gaze had been arrested by an elderly women with scraggly gray hair and in what looked like an overcoat over a nightgown and scruffy slippers wandering around in aisle two. When Nancy looked back across the cash register, the man looking for the chocolate coins was gone, to be replaced by a weary-looking young woman with a baby in her arms and a fat toddler pulling at her leg. The woman had put a can of infant formula on the conveyer belt and was rummaging around in her purse, saying she thought she had a store coupon for that. Her toddler had his chubby hand in a can of candy canes on the counter and had pulled one out.

"Should he be doing that?" Nancy asked sharply, an edge to her voice. The nerve of some people loading their fat kids up on candy, she thought. She really didn't approve of the store putting out things out there to tempt the brats anyway.

"Oh, sorry," the woman said. "Well, all right, Mikey," she went on to say to the toddler. "But just because it's Christmas."

"Excuse me," a rather dreamy, confused voice drifted into Nancy's hearing as she was finishing ringing the young woman up. "Can you tell me where the Tums are? I can't seem to find them, and my Ralph is—"

"Right over there on aisle three," Nancy said with a bit of exasperation in her voice to the old woman in the overcoat. "Right where they've always been," she muttered sotto voce as the elderly woman drifted away.

The shift from hell, Nancy thought. She was glad when this one would be over. She hadn't really had any plans for Christmas Eve, but no one should have to work an evening shift on this day.

At last the shift was over, but Nancy's irritation increased as she was driving home and found she had to detour around the main street between her work and her apartment because they had a drive-by Christmas lights display along that stretch of the road. She hadn't thought about that being there and had reached a point where she'd have to take a winding, rural road around the town or backtrack to get to the highway going through on the other side of the town.

She turned onto the rural road and sped up a little faster than she should to make up for the lost time the detour would cause.

She rounded a curve and went into shock as the headlights picked up a large deer standing still in the middle of the road. Deer and woman froze, panicked eyes latched onto panicked eyes. And, as the deer leaped in one direction, Nancy's car lurched in the other direction, and she went down into a ditch and up into a tree, the tail of car still on the apron of the road.

She sat there, dazed from having her head bounce off the side window. The hit wasn't hard enough to set off her airbag, but she saw stars and felt the ooze of blood at her temple.

She was bathed in the headlights of another car, and a man and woman, dressed in evening apparel, appeared at the side of the car, almost instantly, giving her very concerned looks as she rolled the window down.

"Are you all right?" the man asked?

"Are you hurt?" the woman chimed in.

"A deer. It was a deer," Nancy said, rather dumbly.

But right at that moment the beam from a strong flashlight appeared at the corner of the passenger side of Nancy's car, revealing that she'd gone off the edge of the road right next to a driveway.

"I heard the crash," a man was calling out. "Anyone hurt? Oh, that doesn't look too good. Here, let me help you up to the house and we'll see about that gash . . . and about your car. It'll have to be moved or there'll be another crash here."

"I'll stay with her car until a wrecker comes," the first man said.

"I'll go call the Mitchells on my cell phone and tell them we'll be late to the party," his wife called out as she started back to their car. "We'd better leave our headlights shining on her car until the wrecker gets here so anyone else coming around the curve can see it in time."

As the man whose driveway Nancy plowed across and who identified himself as Steve Brandon helped her up to his house, he was asking her if she was in pain anywhere else, but she said she didn't think so. "Still, we'd best call Doc Watson—they live a couple of driveways down—and ask him if he can come over and take a look at you. Do you have AAA?"

"Eh, no, no, I'm sorry, I don't," Nancy answered. She was still feeling a little woozy.

"Guess I'll call Joe Timberman then," Steve said. "He's got the Exxon station up on Maple. Maybe he can bring his truck over and take your car over there at least for tonight. When that's taken care of, I'll drive you home."

When they entered the house, Steve's wife was there, looking concerned and putting her arms around Nancy and helping her to a chair between the fireplace, where a fire was flickering, and a lighted Christmas tree. It was clear that Steve had been assembling toys for young children hopefully abed and at least pretending to be asleep in anticipation of Christmas morning.

"Oh, you can't drive me home. You're—" Nancy muttered.

"I was figuring I'd be up half the night getting this together anyway," Steve said with a laugh. "Another hour or two won't matter much."

"Here, dear," Steve's wife said as she returned from the kitchen. "Here is a mug of hot chocolate and a few Christmas cookies. I called Doc Watson. He was at his daughter's house, but he said he'd be over within a half hour. I'll go call Joe Timberman now."

"It looks worse than it is," Doc Watson said as he finished cleaning the gash on Nancy's temple. "A butterfly bandage should do for now. But maybe you should go into the hospital in the morning to get that checked out. I can meet you there and help you through the process, if you like."

Nancy was murmuring her thanks as she heard the sounds of activity out on the road. She stood and went to the window and saw that a wrecker had arrived and two men were hooking up the tail end of her car to a hoist. The couple in the evening apparel were still there, with the headlights of their car beamed on hers.

Movement caught Nancy's attention out of the corner of her eye, and she turned her gaze to where, bathed in moonlight and standing in a majestic stance in a clearing at the edge of the forest—and peering straight into her face—was a deer. Perhaps the same deer she'd already encountered.

They were both frozen there for a long moment, eyes latched onto eyes. Nancy's eyes teared up, though, in sudden recognition that something had touched her deeply inside on this Christmas Eve, and when she had cleared the haze of her vision, the deer had disappeared.



Moment of Truth



Marco had called me, as usual, at the most rotten time. But I guess that's how ex-boyfriends are. I was on my way out for a night of clubbing with my friends so I was totally dressed to impress. Short skirt, high heels, low-cut top that just barely covered me. Yup, the combination of my breasts and my Asian looks were hard to beat. 

But like I said, Marco called right as I was leaving my apartment and told me to come to some hotel. He said there was a problem and it needed to be solved right away. Maybe I was being dumb, but I agreed to meet him. It did make me a little nervous to meet him at a hotel though.

When I got there, I was a little surprised. The hotel was the nicest in town. I had heard the rooms were going for more than $300 a night. I was really wondering what Marco was up to. I went inside and found the elevators and went to the 8th floor. Marco had said the room was at the end of the hall and to just come on in.

I found the door and it was open a crack. I could hear soft music playing and it seemed like the lights were turned down low. I was thinking, great, I hope Marco isn't trying to pull some romantic stunt -- he and I were definitely OVER. 

I pushed the door open and went in. The room was huge. And beautiful. There was the most gorgeous furniture I had ever seen. There were fresh flowers everywhere and candles all around too. And there was Marco, sitting at the far side of the room, smoking a cigar.

"Well Christine, welcome. I'm glad you made it. It's very important to me that we figure out a little problem that has come up."

"Marco, this is a very nice room and hotel. Why are we here to talk about some problem? And on a Saturday night too!! I have places to be so tell me what's going on." 

He looked at me with an odd smile. Little alarms started going off in my head.

"Christine, Christine. You are so impatient sometimes."

"Okay, here is the situation. Do you remember the $10,000 that I loaned you so that you could but that Lexus you've been driving? Well, I have run into a situation and that money is kind of a problem for me now."

He saw the look of disgust on my face.

"Now just hold on," he said as he held his hands up at me. "It's not like you are going to lose your car or anything. I don't even want the money back from you." 

I was hearing big alarms now.

"What do you want Marco?"

He looked at me very directly, right into my eyes.

"I need some help with my business, the one I have on the side."

Now I knew this was trouble. Marco had a little escort service thing going. It was small, he only had 3 or 4 girls at a time, but I knew he made a lot of money from it. I knew about it when we were together, but I didn't get involved.

"Are you in some trouble? What do you need me for?"

As the words left my mouth, a very pretty girl came out of the bedroom. She was blonde, very curvy, and had a very sweet smile. She looked about my age, 23 or so.

Marco stepped towards her and took her hand and led her towards me.

"Christine, I would like you to meet Cherie."

The girl stepped to me, put a hand on my shoulder and then kissed my cheek. It surprised me a little as I had never seen her before. I was thinking she was one of Marco's escorts.

"Nice to meet you Cherie. Do you work for Marco."

She smiled and looked down at the floor.

"No, no Christine. Cherie is not one of girls. In fact, Cherie is actually a very good customer of mine."

I looked from Marco to Christine. She looked back at me, still smiling. I could not help but be impressed at how pretty she was. I was trying to figure out how this girl could be a customer of Marco's. I had no idea he had any male employees.

"I'm confused. Why am I here and what has this got to do with my car? And why is Cherie here? 

Marco took my arm and led me to the couch so we could sit. Cherie followed and took a spot behind me.

"Okay, to make a long story short," Marco began, "Cherie has been a customer of mine for about 2 years. About six months ago, she invested in a little project that I had going. In fact, she put in $10,000. Well, the little project didn't work out, it bombed in fact. And now I owe her her money back with interest."

"I still do not see what this has to do with me."

"Christine, I gave you $10,000 for your car."

I just looked at him, waiting to see where this was going.

"I need to pay that money back to Cherie, but thankfully, Cherie is willing to work out an arrangement so that everyone will be happy in the end."

"i'm still not seeing how this involves me Marco."

"Christine, I gave you 10 grand in cash."

"Yes, but I don't have 10 grand to give it back!"

He looked at me for a few moments.

"Yes I know," he said. "But you do have something that I can use to pay back Cherie."

"And what is that?"

He looked at me again.

"You Christine. You. I have you."

I stared at him and I'm sure I had a look of utter bewilderment on my face.

"You are going to work for me Christine. You're going to be one of my girls. Or, if you choose not to do that, I will be forced to exercise the lien I have on your car and have it repossessed."

"What!?? Marco, please, you can't take my car. I love that car. I can find a way to pay you back the money."

"I'm sure you can Christine, but you see, the money is not the real thing that I want. I want you. Or rather, Cherie wants you."

Cherie wants me? I turned and looked at her. She Was turned slightly towards me and leaning back very comfortably.

My mind was racing trying to figure this out. Marco owed this girl money, the same amount I had taken from him. Now he wants me to work for him to pay it back. And this girl wants me? How is this happening?

"I know what you are thinking Christine. You see, Cherie likes to sample my girls from time to time. But lately, none of my girls were willing to play with her. Just not that way they said. So we were talking in my office one day and she noticed the picture I have of you. She told me right then. She wanted you. Otherwise, she would come after me legally. I had no choice."

I had no idea what to say and then I noticed him looking at me very darkly. Cherie got up from the couch and strolled to a window across the room. The light was outlining her body as she walked so that I could see her body right through her clothes. She was very beautiful.

"And you have no choice either Christine. You have no idea. Cherie wants you, you are going to belong to her. At least until you pay back all the money."

I started to speak, but Cherie spoke for the first time.

"He's right Christine. You are a very beautiful girl. And now that I have seen you in person, I want you even more. Of course, if you choose to not cooperate, then I'm sure that not only will you lose your car, but there will be other repercussions for you. Perhaps at your job or with your landlord. That would be to bad."

I looked at her and she just smiled.

"Really Christine. This is really very simple for you. I will need you to come here to this room on one or two days per week. Sometimes, I will be here alone. Sometimes, some girls I know will be here."

I swallowed hard. 

"What do you want with me?" I asked very quietly. I think I knew the answer. 

She did not reply. Instead she walked across the room to me. Her hands went to my waist and held me. her fingers found their way under the hem of my top. She stroked my skin. I felt chill all of a sudden. She leaned close to me, her lips finding mine. She kissed me lightly at first, then with more desire. I tried to pull back.

"please, I'm not like this. I've never done this. There must be some way to figure this out," I whispered.

Her face was inches from mine.

"No Christine, there's really not. You do belong to me now. And I will make you want to be mine, you'll see."

Her mouth closed over mine before I could say anything more. Her tongue found mine. Her mouth was so soft. Her arms went around me pulling her to her. I could feel my breasts push against hers. I tried to push her away but she held me to tight. I couldn't pull away from her. Her tongue moved over mine, teasing it, pushing at it. finally, she pulled back from me.

"Christine, do you want to keep your car? Do you want to have everything be okay at work and at your apartment? Because, really there's no need to upset your life."

I looked at her for more than a moment. I looked down at the floor. Then I nodded to her.

"Then follow me into the bedroom Christine and I will make you my own."

She began to walk towards the bedroom door as I stood there. She stopped halfway and looked at me. She smiled at me and lifted her hand to me. I hesitated for a moment and then I walked to her. I knew I had no choice. She and Marco had trapped me and now this girl was my master. She was going to take me herself right now. And from what she had said, very soon, she would share me with her friends. A chill ran through me at the thought.

She took my hand as she turned to Marco. 

"You may watch if you choose Marco, but you may not participate in any way. Christine is mine now and you will never touch her again."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I had just met this girl 20 minutes ago. I had not seen Marco in 3 months. And now, I was going into this girl's bedroom so that she could do whatever she wants to me. I knew I had no choice. I loved my job and I did not want to lose my car. I had just moved into my apartment, I couldn't afford to move again so soon. I had to go along with her and so I let her lead me into her bedroom.

She had my hand very softly and led me to the foot of a giant bed that was made up very beautifully. She turned to face me, her body inches from mine. Her finger went under my chin and lifted my face to hers. Her soft lips caressed mine and her tongue softly stroked at me. I felt my mouth open and I let her kiss me again. I was again surprised at how soft and sweet her kisses were. She pulled me to her as she kissed and nibbled at my lips. 

I tried again to stop her.

"Please.....don't do this.....I'm...not like....this."

But all she did was make a small sound and her mouth closed over mine again. Her arms were around me holding me so tightly. I had never kissed a girl before and I had to admit to myself that the situation was having an effect on me. For them to close their trap on me, leaving me no choice but to go along, and now the soft, seductive way she was treating me, it was getting hard to resist her.

She pulled back slightly so that her hands could find the front of my top. She undid the 4 buttons and slowly pulled it open and then over my shoulders. She let it fall down my arms to the floor. Her hands went behind my back and I felt her pull at the clasp on my bra. Moments later, I felt it loosen and then she took the straps down my shoulders, down my arms, and she dropped in on the floor. 

My breasts were naked before her and she stared at them, almost licking her lips. Her hands reached to them and she lightly traced her long fingernails over them. The sensation of it gave me a chill and I let out a sharp breath.

She looked up at me as her fingers kept teasing my breasts.

"You like that don't you Christine."

Did I nod yes to her? I wasn't even sure myself.

"I've been with girls before who have been reluctant. But once I start to strip them and caress their bodies, they always become very willing."

Was that happening to me? I wasn't sure. I knew I shouldn't be here with her. If I let her continue, then she would control me, make me her own. I had to try and stop her.

"Cherie, I'm begging you. Please let me go. I will get some money somehow to pay you back. I can't be an escort for you. Please, don't turn me into your..."

My voice caught and I gasped as her mouth closed over one of my nipples and sucked down on it firmly. I gasped again as her teeth nibbled at me. Her mouth pulled away and then went to my other breast, sucking it in and licking at it.

"OH my god," was all I could say as her mouth went from one of my breasts to the other. She was devouring me, her mouth sucking at me, her tongue licking me. My hands were on her shoulders trying to push her away, but she held me so tight. I could not get away from her. And I knew that I could not let her go on -- she was overwhelming me and I had to stop her.

I watched as she was sucking at me. My breasts had always been very sensitive, but now they seemed 10 times more so. Each time she pulled away and went from one to the other, I could not stop myself from gasping as her mouth would close on me. I could see her saliva making my skin shimmer and I could feel it running down the curve of my breasts onto my bare stomach. My nipples were so hard, so erect. I had to stop this.

I pushed at her again as hard as I could.

"No, stop, please. I can't let you do this to me. I am not this way. I won't let you seduce me."

But as I pushed at her, she had been tugging at my skirt and I suddenly felt it slide down my legs. Her fingers touched on the cloth of the thong I was wearing and rubbed me lightly. I could feel myself and knew I was wet. Her face came to mine and she whispered to me.

"Christine, why are you denying what you want. Your pussy is wet, you know you want me to take you. And that's what I'm going to do right now."

She stepped back from me, letting me stand there almost naked and breathing heavily. I could not deny how she was making me feel, what she was doing to me. She started to undress herself very slowly. I must have been staring at her, she was so beautiful. She let me watch her as she slowly made herself naked for me. When she was finished, she stood facing me, almost in a pose. I had never seen a girl like her -- I could not deny the way she was making me feel. 

She reached a hand out, calling me to her. I felt myself moving towards her. She reached to my small panties and pulled at the string tied on one side. I watched as she removed the last bit of clothing I had on and I let her do it. Then, she put her arms around me again and began to kiss me again. As she did, her body swayed from side to side causing our bare breasts to rub softly against each other. I could feel her hard nipples against my own sensitive nubs. I was so overwhelmed by it all, I was having trouble standing. She whispered to me again.

"Christine, I think you are ready for me now. I know that I am ready for you. You are so beautiful and I think you feel the same way as me. I want to put you on the bed and have you. But I won't do it unless you want it too. This is your moment of truth Christine. Tell me now -- do you belong to me? Do you want to be taken?"

I was looking right at her eyes, at her lovely face, and I heard myself say it.

"yes."

She smiled at me and kissed me again and then led me to the bed. She pushed me down and spread my legs slightly. Then she crawled over me as she let a hand trace up and down my naked body. I looked up at her and still could hardly believe that this girl now owned me. I knew I would come to her when she wanted me. I knew I would let her have her way with me. I did truly belong to her. And I knew she was going to take me as her own -- right now.

Her mouth kissed at my neck, at my shoulders, and to the curve of my breasts. I was breathing heavily as I watched her wonderful lips return to my aching nipples. She licked and teased me as I squirmed beneath her. Her mouth went lower, kissing at the undercurve of my firm breasts, down my smooth stomach, her tongue probing into my belly button.

But still she went lower. And she went very slowly. I could feel her tongue licking at my freshly shaved skin as her fingers massaged my legs. Then I felt her tongue slowly trace down the tender folds of my sex. She was about to take me and I wanted her to do it. I moved my legs wider apart as if to beg her to take me. But still she used her tongue to tease me. I couldn't stand it any longer.

"Take me!" I screamed at her. "Please, I can't take anymore!"

I wanted to say more, but her tongue shoved deep inside me and once again, the sound caught in my throat. My head reared back and my body arched as I felt her begin to fuck me. My hands shot towards each side of the bed and grabbed at the covers as my hips bucked wildly underneath her. Her tongue was licking at me, diving inside me, and then out again as her lips would suck at my tender folds. 

If there was any doubt left in my mind, I knew it was gone now. I would come here anytime this girl wanted me. And I would let her strip me and fuck me as she wanted. And I was going to let her friends take me too. I would do whatever it took to make her want me. 

When I came, I screamed like I had never done before. She lifted my hips off the bed as the sensation rolled through me and pushed her tongue harder and deeper. I came again immediately. But still she did not stop. She made me cum again and again and again as her tongue tortured my pussy. I must have finally passed out because I suddenly opened my eyes and she was laying with me slowing stroking me. I looked around and I could see that Marco had left.

"We're alone now."

"Did I pass out?"

"yes, you've been asleep more than an hour."

She smiled at me as I stared into her eyes.

"I've never felt that way before."

"Don't worry Christine, you will feel that way many more times. Your debt to me will take some time to be settled. Until then, you are mine to do with as I please."

As she was speaking, she gently rolled me onto my back again, her hands pushing my legs apart. She was going to take me again and I was going to let her. I truly did belong to her. 



Moment of Truth



So...my life has pretty much come down to this. I came home from work to see that my wife had bought a new skirt. She had tried it on and was modeling it for herself in the mirror. She looked great. The skirt nicely accentuated her sexy curves. And judging by her reaction to her image in the mirror she really liked it. But the first thought that popped into my head was, 'that's a really cute skirt, I can't wait until she goes to work so I can try it on.'

I've been a closet cross-dresser since puberty first changed my life. In fact I was probably more like 10 years old when I first tried on a pair of my sister's panties. I remember it was after school one afternoon. My sister was at a friend's and my mom was just getting started on dinner. I happened to notice the panties on top of the hamper in the laundry room.

They weren't all that sexy. They were just girl's briefs, white with blue trim at the waist and legs. But the silky-smooth material was irresistible. I had seen them before, and others like them. But something in that moment made me stop and wonder what they would feel like. So I grabbed them, stepped into my room, and closed the door. I don't remember many of the details other than once I had put them on I was hooked. They were so much softer and smoother than my briefs. 

After that moment I would sneak my sister's panties, and sometimes my mother's panties, from the laundry whenever I thought I had enough time to enjoy them. Not every pair I saw, though. I was selective. I wasn't into sniffing them, or turned on by the fact that they had been worn and had been rubbing all day long against a pussy. I couldn't explain it at the time, but I can say now it was just the sheer femininity of them.

It was shortly thereafter that I discovered masturbation. The panties helped of course. At first it was just a natural progression from feeling my erection through the sexy nylon of the panties. But after stroking myself to my first orgasm I knew it would be a regular part of my secret panty wearing.

All through junior high and high school I would steal panties from the hamper, or even clean panties from my sister's drawers. I would wear them under my clothes around the house, and even when I was outside playing. On occasion I would wear them all night long when I was sure I would have enough privacy to get away with it. 

And eventually the panties weren't enough. I would try on their bras and slips, and even their dresses and skirts, whenever I had the opportunity. In fact, whenever I was home alone I would put on a pair of panties and often a dress or skirt, and then go about my business as if I was a girl and it was a normal day. Sometimes I would pretend I was on a date with a guy while I masturbated. Sometimes I would pretend I was a slut and imagine myself being ravaged, stripping my clothes off as part of the fantasy. 

I was devastated when I got to the point where their bras and dresses didn't fit anymore. But I never outgrew their panties. When I finally graduated from high school and moved out for college I was overjoyed. I was a little bit sad about not having constant access to my sister's panties. But I quickly realized that I could finally buy my own and keep them in my room as long as I wanted. And fortunately I had a roommate that kept to himself so I was able to build a fairly nice collection of panties and assorted lingerie that was all my own.

Even better was when my roommate graduated two years ahead of me and I ended up living on my own. I no longer had to hide anything and I was able to wear panties, lingerie, and whatever feminine clothing I wanted, almost whenever I wanted. My wardrobe grew to include a couple dresses and skirts. I even found the courage to buy myself a realistic dildo after I discovered the joys of anal self-pleasure. From there my fantasies expanded to include being a girl on a date with a man and having intercourse, or being forcibly taken from behind by a guy or another girl with a strap-on. I would experiment with whatever I could think of, bringing myself to orgasm and sometimes tasting or swallowing my own cum.

But I knew that eventually I would want to grow up and have what most consider a normal life. I dated a bit, but always kept my personal activities a secret. On one occasion a potential girlfriend discovered my secret wardrobe and freaked out. On another occasion a girl caught me wearing panties on a date and called me a pervert before finding her own way home. So I knew I would eventually have to choose between my life with panties and a normal life with a regular girl.

The transition turned out to be easier than I thought it would be. Once I had met the right girl I was able to suppress my inner desires, at least enough to develop a relationship. And she was totally worth it. Vivien was beautiful, with long blonde hair that had natural waves, deep blue eyes, and full, luscious lips. She was well proportioned, with tits that were just the right size, a narrow but not-too-skinny waist, accentuated by those wonderful, womanly hips, and lusciously smooth legs. And she made me laugh. She was one of the few people I had ever met that could make me feel at ease in just about any situation.

We started slowly. But after only a month or so I was sure she was the one. So I boxed up my feminine clothes and very reluctantly dropped them off at Goodwill. It was a bitter-sweet parting, and I actually turned around once and almost changed my mind. But once the deed was done, I was able to fully commit to Vivien. Our relationship grew quickly after that. We spent every minute that we could together. The sex was fantastic, but the way she made me feel when I was around her was far beyond anything I had ever hoped for.

We dated for a year before getting engaged. And another year later we were married. By then we had both graduated from college and found fairly good jobs. It was a wonderful life. The only downside was when our work schedules didn't mesh. There were times, not extend times but often entire weeks, when Viv would be heading to work just as I was getting home, and we would have to wait for the weekend to spend any time together. 

It was during one of those periods when my secret passions came back. I would say it was a gradual process, but in reality it happened almost overnight. I was alone one evening, folding some laundry, when the feel of her panties in my hands brought everything back. Without a second thought I had stripped off my clothes and had the panties on. And I thanked my lucky stars in that moment that Vivien and I were nearly the same size. She's a hair under 5'8" and I'm just a shade over 5'10". And we're both slim. So her clothes, as I discovered that evening, fit me rather well.

For the rest of the week, while our schedules kept us apart, I tried on nearly every stitch of clothing she had. Most of it fit, and quite a bit of it I liked a lot. So from that point on I would wait for the times when our schedules were off and I would wear her clothes around the house. 

Eventually I grew bold enough to sneak a pair of panties either from the hamper or from the drawer and wear them under my work clothes. I even had a couple of close calls at work, and once at home, that made me nervous about getting caught, but not enough to make me stop.

But virtually all roads lead to a fork. And eventually the inevitable happened. On this fateful day I had worn a pair of Vivien's panties under my work clothes. They were so comfortable that I actually forgot I was wearing them. She he was supposed to be working that evening so I wasn't afraid of getting caught. But on this occasion she had actually gotten the night off, having traded with a co-worker who wanted a night off the following week. So when I got home I just naturally started to change my clothes. She was sitting on the bed, asking me about my day and talking about random things that had happened to her over the week. Without thinking I pulled off my shirt and then my pants. And before I realized what was happening I was standing in front of her wearing only my undershirt and a pair of her pink panties.

I held my breath, hoping she wouldn't say anything. But her silence wasn't because she didn't notice. She was sitting on the bed, her mouth hanging open, too stunned to speak. Not knowing what to say I just kept silent myself, wanting to hide but unable to move.

Finally Vivien broke the silence. "What in the hell is going on? Why are you...wearing my panties? What...?"

I just hung my head, knowing that my secrets had finally come to light. There was no way out. I was totally caught. I could lie my way out, but what would I say? So after a long, pregnant silence I turned and was about to head into the closet to find something 'normal' to change into. But as I started to walk away she stopped me.

"Oh no you don't. Don't you dare walk away. You get your sorry...panty-wearing...sissy ass back in here. I want to know what's going on." Her tone was demanding. And since I was caught I figured I may as well get it over with. It was the moment of truth, if you will. From this fork in the road I would either spill my secrets and have Vivien walk away in disgust, followed by a nasty and humiliating divorce, or I would spill my secrets and hopefully find that she can live with it. Either way, I couldn't pretend any more. Even if I hadn't been caught, the desires were becoming so strong that it was only a matter of time.

I walked back to the bed and stood in front of her. Her eyes went back and forth from my face to the panties I wore. And her expression was a swirling mixture of anger, disgust, and confusion. Then finally, "Start talking!"

And so I did. I started at the beginning, just as I have here. I told her about my childhood, and the discoveries that I made that changed me inside. I told her about the things I had tried, about the self-sodomy and eating my own cum. I told her about how she changed my life, but that our schedules had given me too much of an opportunity to regress, not that it was her fault in any way. And finally I told her how the desire had become so strong that I wasn't sure if I could ever go back to pretending they didn't exist.

It was a long story, but I held nothing back. And by the time I finished she had tears in her eyes. I had no idea if they were tears of pain or fear, or if she would ever be able to accept me. But it was clear that things had changed between us. And after a long silence she finally responded. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and devoid of almost all emotion.

"I'm not sure what to think about...this...right now. I'm...I think I would like to be alone. Tonight." Her meaning was clear. And while it wasn't an outright rejection, I knew I would be sleeping in the guest room.

I turned around and started picking out some clothes for the next day. But when I started to pull a pair of briefs out she stopped me. "Oh no. There's no point in stopping now. No reason to...pretend...anymore, right?" Then she got up and pulled open her own drawer, taking out a pair of thong panties and a matching cami. Tossing them to me she said, "You may as well wear these. If it gets you off so much you should definitely wear them." Then she grabbed the briefs from my hand and tossed them into the trash before going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

I picked out some work clothes and took them, and the panties and cami she had given me, and headed out. I could hear her mumbling as I walked out. I couldn't really hear everything she said, but the words "pervert" and "sissy" came up more than once.

I got maybe two hours of sleep that night before having to get up for work. Not knowing how late she had stayed up I did my best to be as quiet as possible. I showered in the guest bathroom and then put on the thong and cami she had thrown at me. They were actually one of my favorite sets, and I had worn them on several previous occasions. Had I not been facing an impending inquisition and possible firing squad I would have been overjoyed in that moment. But reality was heavy, so I finished getting ready for work and left.

We still had two more days of opposite schedules to go, so Vivien was gone by the time I got home. For the most part I was glad. I wasn't ready to get into an argument, if that's where this was heading. But part of me was disappointed. After a long, nearly sleepless night I really needed for us to talk about things. But either way, it had been a long day and I needed to unwind.

I went into our bedroom to change my clothes. As I started to take off my pants and shirt my mind went back to the day before. I actually found myself wishing Vivien was there to watch me undress, to see me wearing her panties again. I settled for watching myself. I stood in front of the mirror and stripped down to just the thong and cami I had worn all day. In all honesty I had really enjoyed wearing them. They felt great and fit well. I was still a man, so I looked a little silly in the mirror. But seeing myself wearing thong panties and a cami still sent a tingle through my body.

I went to the dresser for some clean socks. But when I opened the drawer I immediately saw that all of my underwear was gone. Vivien must have taken them out during the day. I had no idea what that meant. The second thing I saw was just as curious. Where my underwear should have been were two pairs of panties, one with a matching bra and one with a cami similar to the one I was wearing. There was also one of Vivien's old nightgowns. And on top of them all was a note.

It was brief, but concise. "Tim, I'm still not sure what to think about this. We definitely need to talk, but will have to wait until Saturday. Until then, this should be enough to get you through. (If not, you'll have to get some panties from the hamper.) I threw out your old underwear, figuring you wouldn't be wearing them anymore. You should probably sleep in the guest room until Saturday too. Until we figure out the future of our relationship I don't think we should sleep together. Still, you should be comfortable, so I'm giving you one of my old nighties. --Vivien."

That was it. But to me it said a lot. There was very little emotion in the note. But at least she hadn't thrown me out. And she had left me some of her panties to wear. So perhaps there was hope for us after all. I took the silky, feminine items she had left me and carried them into the guest bedroom. That's when I found another reason to hope. On the bed were laid out two of Viv's summer dresses. On them was another note that said, "You may as well be comfortable, if this is what you really want."

Immediately I pulled on one of the dresses. It had been a few weeks since I had worn one, and it had been nearly three years since I had worn one without fear of someone finding out. I still had some fears about how everything would turn out. But at that moment I felt more free than I had in a very long time. It felt great to walk around the house in the dress and not have to worry about when Viv would be home.

And going to bed was a new adventure altogether. I had worn her nighties around the house before, but was never able to wear one all night long. It felt very sexy and feminine. In fact, it felt so good that I ended up masturbating twice before I was able to go to sleep.

The next day was Friday, and it went pretty much the same as the day before. I showered in the guest bathroom and then put on the fresh panties and cami that Vivien had left for me. Putting my work clothes on over the panties I headed off to work. All day long I kept thinking, 'I could really get used to this. I just hope Vivien is still around while I do.'

Friday evening, though, went a bit differently. Not knowing how things would change after the weekend I stopped for a few personal supplies on the way home. Some things I was running out of, some things we usually shared but may not be sharing in the future, but some things I just wanted to change. Mainly I wanted to get myself some lady's deodorant, always having preferred the feminine scent to the more manly scent of my own deodorant. 

There were no notes for me when I got home, and no more gifts of clothing. So I slipped on the same dress I had worn the evening before and went about my evening. But my mind kept fixating on two things. I was worried about how our talk would go in the morning. By the end of the weekend I would either be starting the divorce process, or starting over with Vivien but with no more secrets.

But no matter how our talk ended, I was going to be wearing panties for the foreseeable future. There was no way I was going back to briefs. There was really no reason to. Ever. And so I found myself lost in thoughts of the changes I would make. While I never actually wanted to be a woman, I had always preferred things that were feminine, preferred being feminine. Before I met Viv I had actually shaved my legs and body a few times. I loved the way a woman's legs felt when they were freshly shaved, and always wanted to experience that for myself. 

So before going to bed that evening I found myself doing something else I hadn't done in over three years. I took my electric shaver, and, using the mustache trimmer I trimmed the hair on my legs and ass down to just stubble. Then after a soak in a hot bath I sat on the edge of the tub and shaved my legs smooth. I was no expert, at least not yet, so it took me nearly an hour. (It's not so easy to shave behind your knee if you hardly ever do it.) But after a final rinse in the shower, which also served to clean out the tub, every part of my body except my head and arms were completely hairless and smooth. I wondered what Vivien would think about it. But I knew that it was basically all or nothing from this point. My skin tingled as I dried off. And not wanting it to dry out I stole Vivien's moisturizer and rubbed the lotion all over my freshly shaved body.

Now that my legs were totally smooth, the silky nightgown Viv had given me felt even more amazing on my skin. And like the night before I ended up stroking myself to orgasm before I was able to sleep. I wondered if this would become a nightly need, and I fell asleep hoping it would be Vivien taking care of that need in the future.

I slept pretty well considering everything that was going through my mind. But I still woke up earlier than usual for a Saturday. I figured Viv would sleep longer since she hadn't gotten home until after midnight. So I got up and got dressed, putting on the last clean pair of panties I had. Like the others, I had worn them several times in the past, and liked the way the looked and felt. The bra also felt nice. I had only worn it once before, but it fit quite well considering I had no tits to fill it. Finally I slipped on a clean dress, and after an application of my new feminine deodorant I headed out into the kitchen for some breakfast.

Walking around the house in the dress felt great, especially the feeling of my smooth skin as my legs rubbed together and against the dress. And knowing Vivien was actually home and could walk into the room any minute brought an added thrill. But I still found myself jumping at every sound, wondering when Viv would finally get up and what she was going to say when she saw me.

It was mid-morning when Vivien finally emerged. She was looking rather casual, wearing a dress very similar to the one I was wearing. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of the coffee that I had started when I heard her in the bathroom. Then she came into the living room and sat down in a chair across from me.

"Good morning," she said very cordially. "Did you sleep ok last night?" 

"Actually, I slept pretty well last night," I answered. "How about you?"

"Not bad. It was a bit hectic last night so it took me a bit longer to relax. I'm glad it's Saturday."




Moment of Truth



The conversation was stiff, and a bit awkward. But we were talking. And so far she hadn't shown any kind of repulsion to the fact that I was wearing a dress, with her panties and bra underneath. We talked loosely like that for several minutes while she drank her coffee. We both knew it was about to get deep. It was just a matter of finding the courage.

Finally, after a bit of silence she took a deep breath and jumped in. "Tim, I don't really know where to start. This is all just so...not what I expected." She was obviously choosing her words, and so I just sat quietly. I had already made my confession, so it was her turn to talk. "It's a little easier to think about now than it was the other night, since I've had a few days to process it. I'm still not sure what to think about everything. But at the same time I have to admit, I think I've known something was going on for a while. I just never could put my finger on it."

Her statement caught me a bit off guard, but she was smart so of course she would have sensed something. From there things just poured out. As she talked I could hear bits of hurt and disappointment in her voice. But it was clear almost from the beginning that she wasn't mad, and that she was trying to accept it, which made me relax even more.

She asked some interesting questions, like did I want to become a woman, or take hormones or get implants. She asked me outright if I was gay, or even bisexual. I answered as honestly and completely as I could. No I didn't think I wanted to be a woman or take hormones. And no I wasn't gay, but wasn't sure about bisexual.

We talked for almost two hours, but it was good to get everything out in the air. And by the time the conversation started to wind down I felt fairly good with how things were going. In a nutshell she had said that this wasn't what she expected when we got married, but that she loved me and was willing to at least see how things would work out. I told her that I couldn't expect anything more.

She was quiet for a long moment. I wasn't sure what was going through her mind but I could tell there was something else she wanted to say. "I've been doing some research online," she stated. It came as a bit of a surprise but I took it to be a positive thing. "I've been reading some articles and things about other couples in relationships like this. About how wives cope with husbands that...are feminine. I was surprised at how common it actually is, at least to some degree. You're much more...into it...than most. But the articles were helpful. And based on what I read I'm willing to try. Things will obviously change for us. But we can talk about that later. Right now, I think we need to try and...reconnect."

The last statement was almost a question. But rather than answer, she stood up and slowly walked back to the bedroom. She paused at the door and gave me a look that told me she expected me to follow her. So I got up and followed her into the bedroom. She was standing at the foot of the bed, and as I entered she said plainly, "take your dress off and lay down on your back."

The way she said it was more like a command than a suggestion. But I was curious to find out where she was going so I did as she said. Letting my dress fall to my feet I got onto the bed, still wearing my panties and bra. She came over to the side of the bed and said in the same tone, "keep your hands to your sides. I don't want you to touch me. At least not yet." Again, I did as was instructed.

I lay still and watched her as she looked me over. She knelt on the bed beside me and ran her hands over my body. "I see you shaved. You did a very nice job." Her hands felt wonderful as she touched my smooth skin. I started to respond but was cut off before I could speak. "Don't talk. Just be quiet."

Feeling her hands on my body was very arousing, and in no time my cock started to harden until it was straining against the panties I wore. She ran her fingers lightly over my erection, making me squirm in anticipation. Then after a few minutes of heavenly torture I watched as she reached under her dress and pulled off her panties. She repeated her instruction to keep my hands at my sides and not to touch her, then climbed onto the bed and straddled me.

Hiking her dress up to her waist she rubbed her pussy against my throbbing organ. I could feel the heat and the wetness of her arousal. I was pleased that she was clearly enjoying herself so far. I felt her hand on my cock again. She gave it a squeeze before pulling it out from its panty home. Then with little prelude she pressed it to her opening and settled herself down, taking my cock deep inside her pussy.

I wanted to touch her, to caress her legs and cup her breasts. But I kept my hands to my sides as instructed. She moved on top of me for several wonderful minutes. And the whole time I could tell she was focused on herself entirely. I was just a tool for the moment. I could sense that she was getting closer to a climax. But the excitement of the moment and the feel of her pussy on my cock was more than I could take and I came hard, deep inside her.

I could tell immediately that she wasn't happy. "Dammit, Tammy, I wasn't there yet. You aren't supposed to cum before me. Now you'll just have to finish me off another way." And before I could respond she moved herself off of me, letting my shrinking cock fall out of her, and positioned herself above my face. "You said you like tasting your own cum. So since you didn't let me finish, you'll have to clean me out."

She lowered her pussy onto my face so that I had no choice but to do as she said. She rubbed herself on my mouth and nose while I licked her pussy as fast as I could. I could indeed taste my own cum as it dribbled out of her pussy, mixed with her own juices. 

"Oh yeah, girlfriend. You like the taste of your own cum? You like eating pussy like a slut?" Her taunts were unexpected and a bit unnerving, yet a bit arousing at the same time. But there was no way I could respond. "You like the name Tammy? Because that's going to be your name from now on. You're now my girlfriend Tammy". She ground her slit on my face for several minutes until she was moaning and grunting through her own orgasm.

Finally, as her orgasm passed, she got off of my face and sat down on the bed beside me. "Well, that really wasn't so bad. I think this might actually work out after all. But there are clearly going to be some new ground rules around here." I was still too stunned at what had just taken place to respond so I just listened obediently.

"Since it's clear that you're mind is made up, this is the way things are going to be around her from now on." There was no question, based on her tone, that this was an ultimatum that I would have to follow if we were to stay married. "Since you seem to get your pleasure from dressing like a girl, you can experience the girl's side of sex too. That means that I get off first. You can hold your own orgasm until I've had my first. And you won't touch me while we're fucking until and unless I say you can."

She went on with her list of demands and changes. "From now on, since you obviously prefer it, you'll wear only panties, and you'll always wear a bra or cami. No matter what you're doing you'll have a bra or cami on, unless I say. And you'll wear whatever I tell you to. I'll pick out your clothes for you from now on, at least until I think you really know what you're doing, or you get your own clothes. You can keep some of your man clothes for special occasions. I'm not ready for my parents to know that my husband is a girly girl yet. And you'll need some clothes for work, at least for now. But otherwise you'll wear only women's clothing."

"You'll also be Tammy from now on, unless we have guest around who I don't want knowing your true nature." She had a few other rules, but it was clear that the bottom line was that she was in charge. I wasn't prepared for anything that extreme. But I wasn't ready to protest either. I was still too stunned by her aggressiveness. And beside all that, I was going to be able to wear panties all the time.

Finally she looked at me as she put her own panties back on and said, "Get up and get dressed. We're going out to do some shopping." I kept my mouth shut as I pulled my dress back on, thinking, 'oh shit, what have I gotten myself into.' Never before had I worn women's clothing in public, except of course for panties which were hidden under my clothes. But it was obviously all or nothing at this point. So far everything that had happened, and all of Vivien's demands, I could actually live with. But I wasn't so sure about going shopping dressed as a girl. I guess I was about to find out exactly what it is that I've asked for.

Vivien dragged me into the bathroom and gave me a quick and basic facial, insisting that I pay close attention to what she was doing so that I could learn to do it on my own. I had never worn make-up before. But I liked the attention. It was far and away more feminine that I had ever been. She then did some kind of magic with my hair. My hair was a bit shaggy, but still relatively short. So there wasn't much to work with. She did some minor trimming, and a lot of fluffing. But after a few minutes she was done. I got a brief look at myself before she dragged me out to the car. She had done an amazing job for what little she had to work with.

It was only a short drive to the mall, but the whole time I couldn't help shake the fear that someone would immediately know I was a guy in drag, or that someone might actually recognize me. Fortunately Vivien did some pretty amazing work. I checked myself in the mirror several times before we actually got to the mall. I had to admit that, if you didn't know I was a guy, you'd have to get pretty close to figure it out for sure. Still, the walk through the parking lot was torture. I was sure everyone around was watching me. But when we finally reached the door I realized that most people are minding their own business and probably haven't even noticed me at all.

I was able to relax a bit after that. Which is a good thing, because from the second we walked through the door I realized I was about to live another part of a dream that I figured would never come true. Up until that point, most of the clothes I had worn were purchased online, or under false pretenses at a smaller department store. But now I would be shopping for real, in person. I could browse the racks and try things on. It was such a wonderful prospect that I completely gave in to the experience and let Viv lead me where she wanted.

Over the next five hours we tore through three department stores and a few smaller shops, and tried on just about everything we could think of. Seeing an item online is one thing, but being able to touch it and try it on before buying it was amazing. Together we tried on everything from dresses and skirts, to bras and negligees, to even swimwear. It was a wonderful experience. And admittedly one I would never have had if Vivien hadn't caught me wearing her panties. I wasn't prepared when Viv dragged me into a salon and had my ears pierced. But I was glad, afterward, that she did.

After shopping we stopped and had dinner at a mid-level chain restaurant. The whole afternoon had been wonderful, like two girls hanging out at the mall together. That mood and conversation continued through dinner. And as she has always been able to do, she put me totally at ease. By the time we got home I was exhausted. But I had some great new clothes. And I was excited about the way things were turning out with Vivien. It was looking as if our relationship, and our marriage, would survive, and I would be able to continue living my feminine dream.

We got our new things either put away or put into the laundry. Then we spent another hour taking most of my old clothes out and packing them in boxes. It was an odd feeling to consider that I would be wearing mostly women's clothes for the foreseeable future. But t was also one that gave me butterflies.

Finally it was time for bed, and I went about getting ready as I always did. Except now I was putting on a babydoll nightie instead of a pair of shorts, and Viv was watching. I was looking forward to making love to my wife, albeit on her terms. And as she approached the bed my loins started to tingle. She was wearing a sexy robe that covered what I knew was a very revealing babydoll. 

As she got to the edge of the bed I actually reached out for her before she gently scolded me. "I told you earlier, you won't touch me until and unless I tell you to. Now come here and sit on the edge of the bed." I still wasn't sure I was ready to be bossed around like this, but I was already turned on so I obeyed. And her tone has calmed quite a bit from before.

"Now, are you ready to be my obedient girlfriend? 'Cause I'm about to rock your world." She then opened her robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing the lovely babydoll I knew was underneath. But it wasn't the babydoll that held my attention. It was the 8 inch strap-on cock she was wearing.

"What the fu..." I started to say.

But I was interrupted immediately. "No talking. You wanted to be more feminine. So now you can get your first taste. Suck my cock, bitch." Even if I wanted to respond, I didn't have the chance. She grabbed my head and pressed her rubber cock against my mouth. I had no choice but to open up and take it in. "That's it, girlfriend. Suck that cock like you know you want it." She held my head in her hands while she slowly pumped the strap-on in and out of my mouth.

After a while I took over the motion on my own and she let go of my head. And I quickly learned that the strap-on was two sided. There was obviously another end that was inside Vivien's pussy. When I realized that, by sucking the cock, I was actually causing it to fuck her pussy, I gave it my all. I sucked her cock like she had sucked mine before. No, I sucked it like the whores I had seen in porn videos. I sucked like the slut I had no idea I was. I sucked it until she was gasping for air as an orgasm rolled through her body.

She pulled the cock out of my mouth as her orgasm passed and she caught her breath. I started to get up, but she obviously wasn't done. "Hold on girlfriend. We're just getting started. It's time for you to give it up. Turn around and get on your hands and knees."

I immediately knew what was coming. And while I had pleasured myself with a dildo in the past, I had never had anyone fuck me with one. I was both excited about it, and dreading it. So I did as instructed and got on my hands and knees. I felt her hands rubbing my ass through my panties before she pulled them down to my knees. Then I felt the head of the dildo pressing into my rosebud. It was bigger than anything I had ever used on myself, and I was relieved when I felt her pour some lube into my crack. She massaged it around with the head of the cock and then started to press into me.

I was grateful that she went slowly. Otherwise she would have torn me apart. She would press in a bit before pulling out again. Centimeter by centimeter she pushed the massive cock into my ass, talking dirty to me the whole time. "Oh, yeah. My girlfriend is going to love getting her pussy fucked. You want this so badly, don't you? Tell me how you want it, bitch."

By that point I just wanted her to get it inside me so my asshole could adjust to it. So I answered her. "Yes, Vivien. Fuck my pussy. I want your cock inside me." It felt strange to speak the words. But as I said them I knew I actually meant them. It was just like my fantasies in college. I was about to be taken, and there was little I could do to stop it. And when she finally pressed the cock past my opening and into my bowels I couldn't help adding, "oh, god, yes.!"

Vivien quickly worked into a rhythm as she pounded my ass from behind. I felt like a dirty whore, but was loving every minute of it. And the feeling of the cock rubbing against my prostate, without me having to do it myself, was fantastic. I had never actually brought myself to an orgasm through anal penetration before, and it was starting to feel as if this might be the first time. But Viv beat me to it. She started grunting and moaning, and I knew she was having a second orgasm.

She continued to pump my ass as her climax washed over her. The she suddenly pulled out. My ass felt empty and all I could think about was having her cock back inside me. And I didn't have to wait for long. "Turn over. We're not done yet." Was all she said, though the words came out breathy. So I did as I was told. I kicked my panties off and rolled over on my back. I raised my knees to my chest and then spread them to the side. I was rewarded for my obedience as Vivien pressed her cock back inside me.

She fucked me again for another several minutes. But the change in position was all I needed. The longer she went meant more rubbing on my prostate. And then, for the first time, I was ejaculating from anal sex. My cock wasn't even hard. It had gone soft as she worked my ass. But I was still having an orgasm, and shot after shot of cum flew from my dick onto my belly and chest. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. And it kept going while she kept pumping. She gave several more thrusts until she was cumming again herself.

It was almost surreal. It was the orgasm that every man dreams about, lasting nearly 30 seconds until Vivien stopped fucking my ass and the dildo came out. Never has an orgasm lasted that long. And never have I cum so much. I had read about anal orgasms before, but never experienced one. I can now say that they are everything they are reported to be.

When her orgasm had finally passed, Vivien picked up my panties from the floor and used them to wipe the cum from my belly. Then she handed them to me and said, "Clean those off and then put them back on. No sense in getting another pair dirty tonight." I did as she instructed, licking and sucking every drop of my cum from my panties before pulling them back on.

By the time I was done, Vivien had taken off the strap-on and put on her own panties. Then she crawled into bed beside me. Apparently she had gotten her fill from the three orgasms she had just experienced because she was suddenly all loving and gentle. Pulling me to her she kissed me passionately, like we used to kiss before and right after we got married. Then she pulled my head to her breast and held me like a child. As we drifted off to sleep I heard her saying, "I think things are going to work out just fine."

We continued to experiment over the next week. Vivien was still in charge, telling me what to do in bed, but she was no longer demanding. And I was enjoying my new role as her sex toy. And each time I came I ended up eating my own cum, either directly from her pussy, or from whatever was used to clean it up. My 'pussy' was sore for a few days, but by the weekend I was able to fully enjoy being used like a slut.

At this point we're both figuring things out as we go. But the future looks bright. And I get to wear panties whenever I want.