2 comments/  11481 views/  2 favorites

The Other Woman

By: Mskey



It was the low drone of the plane engines that woke her from her listless sleep. She had dozed on and off for most of the flight into Charleston. Partly because she was tired and partly because she had no desire to allow herself to ponder what it was she was getting ready to do. Now as the plane hummed beneath her she found herself face to face with the choice she had made.

She watched as the soft evening light reflected off the metal wings of the plane. It was warm and hazy, the type of twilight you can only find in the south. He would be waiting for her at the terminal. Waiting with that damned smile of his that made her loose all reason. Waiting with the voice that made her forget what she ought to have remembered. Yes, he would be waiting, and although she knew better she would go to him. It struck her as the last whisper of sun flickered off the wing how simply truthful that was. She would go to him. Knowing it was wrong. Knowing she would never have him except on clandestine trips and hotel suites. Knowing that when it was over he would go back to the sweet Americana of his suburban life and that she would wait until he called for her again.

It should have bothered her. The dishonesty of it all, the secrecy. It should have prompted her to walk away after that first stolen kiss. It should have, but it didn't, and she hated herself for her own weakness. Hated herself for allowing him to see it and most of all for giving in to it.

As the little plane slowed to a stop she gathered her small bag from above her seat and waited for the crush of passengers to pass before making her way down the isle. She was aware of the glances the weary businessmen cast at her as she walked by and wondered if they could see her for what she was. She heard each whisper of fabric as her stockings brushed together, heard each click of her heels against the floor as she walked to the doors. They seemed to her a countdown. Each swish and click another second ticked away that she could have turned back in. Each step another chance to do the right thing that she walked away from. The rush of air hit her as she passed through the doors into the breezeway and suddenly her skin came alive in anticipation. Yes, he would be at the terminal and he would make the awful nagging go away. He would take her in his arms and make everything else melt away. The thought made her legs move forward and she passed away from the safety of the cabin without looking back.

She felt her heart leap in spite of itself when she saw him leaning against the wall by the newsstand. The tall grace of his tanned frame standing out among the swell people waiting for returning husbands and wives. He smiled at her and let his eyes run over her making her knees buckle in anticipation.

" Is that your only bag?" he asked as he threw the satchel over his shoulder.

She nodded, unsure of what to say. " I didn't think I'd need much." The words brought a quick flush to her cheeks. She wouldn't need much. They weren't sightseeing, or dropping in on old friends. They didn't have appointments to keep. Nobody even knew they were there, let alone together. No, she wouldn't have needed to pack much, she thought as her cheeks burned hotter, not much at all.

He casually slipped on his sunglasses and put an arm around her. " Well then, I think we should get going." She leaned into him and let him steer her down the terminal and out to the car. She was drunk already with the smell of him, the weight of his arm against her. Her skin burning with a heat that she was beginning to realize she could not deny. He made small talk as they drove to the hotel, asking her questions he already knew the answers to. She wondered if he was nervous at all. If he'd been waiting on her arrival in the little efficiency studio and wondering how they could be doing what they were about to do. Had he called his wife since he'd been there? Had he been able to make her believe the lies they had concocted to make the affair possible for both of them? Had he felt guilty or was her own guilt enough for both of them? As if sensing her need he reached a hand across the seat and let it rest at the juncture of her thigh and her hip, and once more she felt that irrational need for him burn into her. She looked up at him and in that instant knew that there was no turning back. She could try and deny wanting him, craving him, but she would fail.

He fumbled momentarily with the lock as they reached the room,the only betrayal of his nerves she had seen. As soon as they were inside his hands were on her and the yearning that had swept away her reason and judgement was suddenly, horribly upon her again. She trembled at every touch of his skin to hers, letting his fingers burn memories into her flesh. The heat rose from her core and radiated out from her. She burned and she knew it, accepted it, and welcomed it! Even the simplest touch from him awakening a feeling in her that no other had before. She found his mouth and greedily sought it out with her own, tasting and feeding on his lips, her tongue dancing against his. His eyes were devouring her as he broke the kiss. " Jesus!" he whispered. "I can't remember the last time I kissed like that." He took her face in his hands and drew her to him again, his fingers twining into her hair, drawing her head back as his lips trailed down her throat and shoulders.

Without speaking she quickly discarded their clothing leaving the pile of unnecessary fabric by the door as she guided him to the bed. His eyes never left her body and she realized for the first time how aroused that made her, and how aware she was suddenly of every slope and curve. She knelt in front him, easing his knees apart, kissing the rough skin of his kneecaps and the silken smoothness of his inner thighs. He tipped her face up to him, " Only if you want to." And she knew that he meant it that he would never ask of her anything that she could not willingly give. Gently she took him into her mouth, allowing the taste of him to fill it. She worked slowly, savoring him, enjoying him. Each lick purposeful, each kiss meaningful. She felt him come to life against her tongue as his legs tensed and he moaned softly. His hands gripped the bedsheets, moans turning into soft whimpers as she took more and more of him into her mouth. His noise was an aphrodisiac to her, his moans and whimpers as seductive as his touch. She could feel the heat building within her; her own needs becoming more urgent with each passing second. She wanted to please him, but she wanted also to satisfy her own desires. Slowly she allowed him to slip from her lips as she stood before him. " I don't want to wait anymore." She said quietly. " I've been waiting to long already." She kissed him deeply and eased him back onto the bed. His hands traveled across her body and she felt the need begin to rise to a fever pitch. 

He entered her in one fluid motion, filling her totally. It took her breath and she cried out. There was no tenderness, no foolish romantic notions as he took her, only the raw passion of a yearning left to long unsatisfied. She felt herself melting into him with each thrust, felt every drop of guilt or confusion fall to the wayside as he took her to the heights she had only dreamed of. It wasn't long before the climax overtook her and she felt herself trembling with the need for release. 

" Open your eyes." He said. " Let me see you, really see you. Let me know you."

She opened her eyes slowly as her passion peaked, allowing him to see her as no other man had. The intensity of it shook her and as he followed her to their passions peak she whispered what she had not yet dared to say.

" I love you." She knew it now, knew it in the depths of her soul. There was no point in denying it any longer. If this was the only way she could be with him then so be it. Perhaps she would never have the sweetness of suburbia that he shared with his wife, but she would always have this. She would always have his passion, his fire. She would always have HIM, the real him, the one he could show to no one else. Yes, that would be her compensation for her secrecy; that would be the vow he shared with her and no other. She felt him collapse against her, his breathing ragged, his body spent. " I love you too." He whispered.

The Other Woman



It was a cold evening. The pavement was wet where it had been raining, though happily it had stopped now. My high heels made steady snapping noises as I walked, and I notice every person I pass looking at me. My nipples were intensely hard under the coat, from the cold and excitement. Women whispered behind me, men made dirty comments. I was thankful when I had my destination in sight, but nervous. 

I walk up to the big glass doors and through them, smiling at the man who held them open for me. I walk up to the desk and spoke to the front desk clerk, and she gave me directions to room 812. I wait for the elevator, not taking the stairs, as per your instructions. Reaching the eighth floor I navigate the corridors until I find it, room 812. I look at my watch, I am a minute early.

I stand nervously, hoping I hadn't forgotten anything. You told me where to go, that you would already be there, and to enter at exactly 7:30. Not any earlier, not any later. I am very aware of my own nakedness under the raincoat. Your instructions were clear: coat, heels, and nothing else. You told me nothing else about tonight, that I will find out when I got there and everything will be great if I do as you ask.

I check my watch again. 7:30. I open the door and walk in. The room is subtly lit with a couple of small lamps and some candles. I can not see you, but I hear your voice, instructing me to take off my shoes, go over to the bed and get changed, and telling me that you have been watching.

I walk over and untie the belt of my raincoat, pulling it apart and sliding it over my shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. I pick up the black silk gown you have left in a box on the bed, pulling it on. The gown is low cut at the front, very exposing with a black lace overlay, and the back falls away with small ribbons laced to mimic a corset. You direct me onto the four post bed, telling me to kneel in the middle facing the pillows, and to put on the blind fold which is there.

"Yes Master." I reply, as I do what you say. 

One of the things you told me was that the only answer I was allowed to give you was 'yes Master', and that if there was something I wanted, I had to ask by saying "please Master" Now blind folded kneeling on the bed I feel a presence in the room. Someone besides you. My heart quickens as my mind begins to wonder. 

"Good girl." you say, as you climb onto the bed in front of me. 

Kneeling in front of me I know what you want, I reach out and find your body with my hands, then with my mouth. I find that you're already hard, I must have done well so far with your requests. I hold onto you, kissing your cock and then taking it in my mouth, swirling my tongue around you. I am slightly confused for a moment. Is that another cunt I taste on you? My mind begins to race as begin to think of who I could be tasting on your cock. I find myself becoming more wet as I wonder. Your fingers become entwined in my hair as you push my face roughly onto you, establishing the rhythm you want. As I caress you with my tongue I stroke and play with your balls, teasing your senses, making you groan with pleasure. You enjoy making me struggle for air and I enjoy your roughness as you fuck my mouth steadily. As I continue I feel someone else join us on the bed. 

A pair of hands reaches around from behind me and squeezes my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples, and the figure kisses my neck the way that sends shivers down my spine. I feel her breasts pressed against my back, her nipple rings cold against my back. She slides her hands down from my breasts to my parted legs, under the short gown and to my bare pussy. Her fingers move against me gently, prying my pussy lips apart and feeling the wetness inside. She pushes 2 fingers inside me and laughs, 

"Little slut is so very wet tonight." she whispers.

You seem to be enjoying the show, pushing my face onto you more vigorously than before, making me work harder on your cock. 

The woman behind me pulls her hand away, replacing it with something hard. I feel as she pushes it into me, it goes in easily as I'm so wet. You watch as she pushes the dildo into me, moving it inside me as she fingers herself, and you can't take anymore. You lose your careful control and thrust your hips into my face. I hear you telling me not to lose a drop. I feel you shake as you cum in my mouth, your hands tighten in my hair, and you push your cock in my throat as I swallow your cum. 

Still blindfolded I feel you move away from me, leaving me on the bed with the other woman. She kisses me, tasting you on me and pushing me to lie down on the bed. She continues to fuck me with the dildo, kissing me, pinching and teasing my nipples through the silk, then pulling it aside to expose me, biting and sucking small marks all down my breasts. She is rough with my tits, as you are instructing her to be. 

"Try these, the little slut loves them." I hear you say to her.

Her hands leave my aching breasts for a moment only to be replaced by the biting tips of your nipple clamps. She attaches them to my hard nipples making it hard for me to catch my breath. You enjoy the pain she is causing. I hear you whisper something to her and a small laugh escapes from her lips. 

"She'll be surprised," I hear her say.

I kiss her, holding her in a tight embrace, squeezing her breasts, playing and twisting her nipple rings, and reaching for her cunt. She moves up so I can reach her, pulling my hand close, wanting to feel me touch her. I stroke her pussy lips and feel the slickness of her cunt, she's enjoying this little game of yours. 

"Taste her, slut," I hear you say to me.

I draw my fingers to my lips, coating my lips with her wetness. I lick my lips and run cold with shock. I am certain now with my first thought. Your game has become serious and intense. You understand the reason I have stopped. I can't see where you are or what you are doing, but I imagine you near, watching us play. I begin to writhe under this woman's touch, she's getting me so close, I can feel it building up inside myself. I begin to beg for release, degrading myself as I know you like to hear,

"Please Master, please allow your dirty little slut to cum, please allow your little pig whore to come for you." 

I can barely get the words out as my breathing is labored with the passion.

"Hmm, come for me slut."

I hear you authorize my release and allow the orgasm to take over me. The nipple clamps make my nipples scream with the sensitivity.

"Thank you Master." I say as I recover my breath.

"Did you enjoy that slave?" I hear you ask.

"Yes Master." I reply honestly.

"I think you should return the favor slave, lie her down, get on your knees and lick this whore's cunt out clean."

"Yes Master." I reply, nervous as I haven't been down on another woman in front of you before. 

She lies down and pulls me close, kissing me on the lips and the pushing my head away, down her body. I kiss down her neck, pinching her breasts and kissing over them, circling her nipples with my tongue, biting them. I enjoy making her gasp as I give her nipple rings a vicious twist. Moving down further, feeling my way, over her belly, then between her legs to her cunt.

Nervous, I begin with a long lick up the length of her slit. I taste you. You came inside this slut. I begin to moan as I realize that I am cleaning her up for you. You fucked this whore before I arrived and planned to leave it there for me to taste. Your plan falling into place so well, driving me wild. I find that I am incredibly turned on to be sucking your cum from this little slut's cunt. I attack her with my mouth and tongue, determined to get every bit of your cum away from her, to take back what belongs to me. I am working her clit and pushing into her, kissing and sucking, teasing as she begins to press her hips against me. She tastes so good mixed with the salty taste of your cum. Circling and flicking her clit with my tongue she grinds into me, and I feel a presence behind me, hands move around my waist which startles me for a moment until I realize it's my Master. You're telling me I'm a good girl, and that this is my reward. Your hand moves under my silk nightdress, touching the top of my thighs as you kneel between my legs behind me. Still licking and sucking the other woman's clit with your cum inside I feel your hard cock pressed against my hot and aching pussy.

"Did you enjoy your surprise, little one? You like tasting me in that whore's cunt, don't you?" 

You are teasing me with the very end of your cock and can feel my wetness, betraying any thought I may have had that I didn't like this surprise. 

"Yes Master, I enjoy cleaning you from her cunt." I suck with a new passion.

"You want your reward then, slave?" you ask.

"Yes Master, please," I say, "Please Master I want it, I need you to fuck me Master!" 

I continue to suck and lick her pussy, she wiggles into my face, a smile spreading across her lips as she strokes and squeezes her own breasts, and I feel you push into me, filling me with your cock. I lick and kiss and suck with new passion, sending the woman wild, her hips thrusting into my face as you thrust into my pussy and it's almost too much for me to take. She moans and writhes as she cums under my tongue, seeing this makes you pump into me harder, faster, deeper...

I feel like I can't breathe and small moans escape my lips with every thrust as I feel another orgasm coming, this one stronger than the last and as I feel you start to cum I shake all over. You cum deep inside me and we collapse on the bed, spent.

Afterwards, we recover for a while, then you and the woman leave the room and you instruct me to clean up and go home. You let me keep the gown, as a souvenir. I walk away in the raincoat I had arrived in, and the high heels. I was blindfolded throughout so I'll never know who the other woman was, although I have my suspicions.



The Other Woman



Julie peeked around the corner. Susan was almost naked. Jules knew that the other woman chose to wait to change and take her shower after everyone else from their Aikido class had left due to the rumors. She also knew that the rumors were true. Many of the other women in the self defense class were afraid that being naked around Sue would inspire the woman to molest them, or else that her 'taint' would somehow rub off on them like some damned communicable disease. Julie understood the first fear, after all, many of the women were taking the class because they had been overpowered and forced against their will. That didn't mean she liked it or even agreed with the sentiment however.

Jules and Sue were both there for the confidence, exercise and emotional balance that came from learning a martial art. Jules knew that the same way she knew Sue's showering preferences; the two had become good friends in the years they had been taking the class. She sat through Sue's explanation of the recent breakup in silent, inscrutable exultation. It had only been a few months, half a year at most, since she realized she was bisexual, and it was the perfect form of the body now standing naked in front of her that had first inflamed her passions.

Discreetly she watched Sue's lithe body slide towards the showers. The moment she was out of sight Jules quickly stripped off her remaining clothing and walked to the doorway leading to the showers. She waited a minute, back pressed against the wall, and listened as the echo of the water changed from the clack of it hitting tile to the soft patter against silky skin. She already could imagine the feel of that skin sliding underneath her fingers, the slight taste of salt not fully washed off. A fire had been ignited deep within her and need instructed her to rush into the room. She resisted, waiting for the right moment.

Jules gave in slightly, holding her hair she peered around the corner. She told herself it was simply to confirm which shower and what stage the woman was on. She knew she was lying to herself the moment she caught sight of the supple curves glistening with star-shine of water running rivulets around the side of a barely seen breast and between the round cheeks of her pillowy butt. Quickly she whipped out of sight as the other woman's head turned to ensure her hair complete exposure to the unnatural rain.

She heard the water again echo from the tile and began counting. By ten the shampoo would be on her hands. By twenty most of her hair would be lathered. At thirty she shifted around the corner. As she had suspected Sue's hands were entangled in her short, dark blond, soapy hair. Her eyes were screwed shut against intruding suds. Provided Jules could remain silent the other woman would not know she was there. Ten feet, five feet, two feet. She held her breath as she moved within inches of her prey. Her hands grasped the air in anticipation as they moved around to enfold Sue.

Contact was bliss, even as Sue jumped and screamed. Jules' hands cupped Sue's perfect breasts and her head came forward to lean a cheek against the woman's bare shoulder. Sue's head dodged forward to quickly wash the soap from her face and turned to look at the intruder. "Julie?!? What are you doing here?"

Jules refused to answer. She was afraid of her own mind and mouth. Instead her hands ran up round breasts and lightly across nipples hardened by temperature and water. The skin was as flawlessly smooth and supple as she had imagined, possibly more so. What's more she felt the body quiver under her touch when she brushed past sensitive, erect flesh. This was what she had finally realized, this was what those boys could never understand, they could never share the utter torture associated with a body that betrays with paralysis even while in constant motion. She wanted to share the sensation she was causing the surprised woman, her body shifted backwards and she let her own nipples, engorged by lust more than environment, trace lines across a prefect back. Sparks shot at random through her chest, the warmth that had consumed most of her groin now leapt to an inferno and raged into her torso. She stood apart from the shower, blocked by her captive, but she felt her inner thighs grow moist.

Somehow Sue managed to break the trance and turn around. Jules left her hands encircling the more experienced woman and nearly collapsed when their nipple collided briefly. "Oh Jules," Sue was panting already, "I never knew. How could I have never known?" Jules silenced her with a kiss. She knew Sue was surprised but her head quickly began to float as pressure increased against her lips. Her mouth opened, as one tongues shot out and entwined. Her arms, still on Sue's back, slid tight pressing bodies firmly together. The inferno raged across her skin heightening its sensitivity. Every small movement of flesh across flesh sent a fresh wave of shudders through her muscles.

Reluctantly she brought her arms to Sue's shoulders and pulled her away, breaking the enervating kiss. There were no more questions, no more cautions, no more concerns. Their smiles were sheepish, two kids caught with their hands in a mutual cookie jar. Jules pushed the other woman back against the wall, well clear of the still running water. Hands still confining arms, she leaned forward and took a flushed nipple in her mouth. Her tongue darted across it as she allowed her mouth to widen to cover an entire precious areola. Tongue still moving she inhaled drawing the skin tighter into her mouth. Sue gasped, then moaned.

Jules released an arm, her hand sliding across the soft muscle of a shoulder before listing down to contact the other breast. Her fingers lightly scraped against the very tip as it passed before circling and crossing it again. The shudders told Jules all she needed to know, the inferno would soon be raging as fiercely through Sue as they did through herself.

As one fingers pinched gently while teeth gripped. Both rolled firm skin to heighten the electric sensation. Sue's moaning was nearly constant. The other hand released and began a slow path downward. She started by traveling a short distance along the arm until she could cross over to the breast her mouth worked. Down the side until it was comfortable to shift. Still crouched she moved her body away from the breast she tenderly sucked and nipped. Her hand reached a soft stomach, well-muscled but not too thin. Destination not yet reach the hand slid further until it reached the treasured junction of the beautiful woman's legs. Slowly, cruelly, her hand slid between brushing across the clitoris without any pressure. Back out the hand came in the same manner.

This would be the easy part. It was no more or less then masturbation and she knew a woman's body as no man ever could. With the next succession she added the slightest amount of pressure, knowing well how to prolong the buildup. She knew equally well how powerful the release was when it was finally permitted. Slowly the hand moved in and out. Fingers, mouth and teeth pulled and played with nipples. The hand moved in with infinitesimally more pressure, this time however it moved further. Weakened legs offered no resistance as fingers curved, tracing ever more sensitive flesh. Pressure increased dramatically at the fingertips to rub against interior nerves and muscles.

Sue gasped then screamed softly with pleasure. Her hands came forward to grip Jules' head pulling it tighter against her breast. After a moment she seemed to realize her position when her hands loosened, running through long brown hair, caressing the source of the sweet agony.

Unsure of the meaning Jules took this as her cue. The time was about right anyway. Her mouth reluctantly slid away from the beast leaving a trail as she slowly crouched. Sue lashed out and gripped a showerhead to each side as her legs betrayed her when Jules' tongue darted its first experiment into the unknown. Flowing forward and back she pressed against the shaved skin. Her tongue piercing between lips to find the overly sensitive mound even as a finger traced its way forward across her quivering buttocks. Jules was surprised by how quickly the tremors came, she had no experience with this, merely attempting what she liked most on those all to rare occasions a guy had done this for her.

Sue was gasping for air. Her entire weight hung from arms supported by feeble pipes. Jules felt the trickle of water run down her face onto her naked body from the hand supported by the still running shower. Her finger continued forward and pressed firmly against the front of Sue's inner sanctum as her other arm wrapped around soft, firm buttocks pulling her closer, adding pressure to her ministrations.

Sue's body roared with passion. Her nerves were ablaze as no one had caused before. Her lust flowed freely down her legs, Jules' chin and dripped onto now coveted breasts. All strength left her body at once, only her hands remained clinging desperately to the pipes.

Jules felt the pause and redoubled her efforts. She knew the moment time stood still and worked harder for the inevitable and instant resumption when every muscle would tense and shake. Her own body quivered with anticipation when the moment arrived. Her own need drove her deeper into the other being. Souls colliding briefly before beginning to merge. Hand's released and the women collapsed in a tangle on the wet floor but still Jules refused to relent. Her finger had slipped free and was unable to maneuver in once more but her mouth sucked and teeth gripped. Sue screamed for her to stop.

Together they lay intertwined feeling the passion, fire and electricity that had been caused. Both knew who experienced the actual physical aspect of it but they shared the sensation. They needed more, but Jules was content she had demonstrated her desire, her need. They could now become one again and again without fear.

She was basking in a contented glow when electricity shot from her lust throughout her body. She couldn't move. She knew the feeling well, had anticipated it minutes before in her new partner but couldn't understand how it was occurring now. Somehow her eyes managed to peer through the layers of intertwined bodies to discover Sue's head between her legs, her mouth already closed around its desire. Sue's cheeks sunk slightly together as a fresh wave of ecstacy crashed through nerves spent with vicarious emotion.

In their twisted state, Jules' muscles didn't know which direction to move. Sue held her hips but otherwise her body flailed as it filled. Her hips were numb with pleasure but electricity shot from unknown stimulus to careen throughout her body. A haze filled her mind and vision even as it felt it overfill her body. She needed release, she needed to explode. The other half of her soul seemed to sense this. One hand found its way to her breast and began to knead roughly while the other, nothing more then a shaking finger, slid deep within. Jules' body reacted and for the second time in moments she experienced time standing still, now from the frozen perspective.

She couldn't remember when her body began to buck. She didn't know how long she floated, mind numb, soul rejoicing, in a world of sensation. Her world consisted of an endless fire that pressed outward at every pore but could only be released by her screams for the gods and goddesses of creation, and through one tiny point between her legs. That wasn't enough to relieve the pressure and, knowing this, Sue continued to plug and prod at the one opening it could flood from.

Jules knew not when her world turned white. She only remembered coming back to herself, leaning back against perfect breasts, warm arms wrapped comfortingly around her. She had misplaced her soul, only to discover another within her. Reaching out to brush Sue's cheek she found her ephemeral form within the other woman.



The Other Woman



Author's note:

I was sittin' out back nursing a Lonestar longneck – yeah, it's hard to find in the Wine country – listening to my iPod. Faron Young started crooning "The Other Woman (In My Life)" and I thought, damn, that's a sad song. Feeling a jolt of the Texas born alcohol and feeling melancholy from the music I took pen to paper ...

Thanks to Techsan and LadyCibelle for their ongoing editing and general help! A nod to DG Hear for his continuing support.

CARELESS LOVE

Love, oh love, oh careless love

You see what love has done to me

- "Careless Love" Traditional 

The bartender shot me another aggravated look as I slid the bottle of Lonestar around in circles on the counter – the sweat from the cold bottles lined up in a careful row mixed with the ashes carelessly shed from the first pack of cigarettes I'd bought in over twenty years were mixed together in a sloppy mess.

Every time he came closer with his rag, I shooed him away with another sawbuck and a wiggle of the latest installment of my attempt to drown in my misery. He was good at bringing a new cold one but, damn, he did have a thing for cleanliness.

Looking into the flyspecked mirror – I guess it was just the bar he had this cleanin' fetish about – I saw this pushin' middle aged (and pushing very hard!) man peeking with red rimmed eyes through the nest of long necks. Being honest with myself – something I hadn't done about Dottie for a long time – I conceded that I wasn't like the handsome, virile young man I'd seen my "lovin' wife" with last night.

Yeah, I could see a gleam of reflected light through the thinning hair on my head and the wrinkles around my eyes showed the effects of all those years working outdoors in the sun and weather at the ranch tryin' to keep Dottie happy. I nodded to myself thinking once again that money didn't buy happiness.

I heard the clink of coins dropping into the jukebox and through that mirror I looked over to see the only guy in the place more pathetic than I leaning on the source of that sad music. I swore, if Hank Thompson started playing that damn "Wild Side Of Life" again, I was gonna stick one of these longnecks where it'd do the most good.

Sure enough, as I gave a deep and lonely sigh, the music cried out:

I might have known you'd never make a wife

You gave up the only one that really loves you

And went back to the wild side of life

Tears came to my eyes as I wagged the empty, asking for more solace. 

It wasn't anything grand. I mean I didn't suspect anything ... hell, I didn't have a clue. I almost never left the ranch in the evenings – I was always too damn tired. Jerry had called me and said he really needed some of the casing pipe I had left over from puttin' in a well a few weeks back. He had a leak in the well for one of his stock tanks and "would I do him a big favor?"

So I loaded up the truck with what I had and drove into Uvalde. My ranch was a few miles southwest of Sabinal. We shared a beer and I started back. I was tired and still thirsty so I pulled into Jake's Place – a few blocks before pickin' up highway 90 - on the way back. It was a new place, more of a dance hall than a bar. I pulled up and was shocked to see Dottie's Jeep in the parking lot. She told me she was goin' up to Hereford to help her friend Nancy whose youngest was down with the colic. She'd said that she would probably stay overnight.

I sat there in the hot summer night, the pinging of the cooling engine an off-beat counter point to the dance music coming through the open doors. The sweat was making tracks through the dust on my face and I could smell the long day of back-breakin' work on my clothes.

Gathering myself I got out and walked over to the door. The music was louder here and I stopped inside by the rest rooms looking around. Finally I saw Dottie and this kid – hell, he couldn't have been more that twenty-five – movin' in the shadows by the back door. The band was playing a fast two-step but they were dancin' somethin' slower than a waltz ... if dancin' is what it was. His hands were all over her and she sure weren't complainin'!

I watched for a minute, undecided, when she put her arms around him and gave him a big kiss – sure looked like she was trying to ream out his tonsils. Breaking the hug she took his arm and dragged him out the door – left open in the misguided hope of a fresh breeze. I knew then it was gonna be bad.

I walked back outside and around the building as they were getting' in the back seat of a big crew cab truck. I slowly walked up to the truck. It was hard to see in – the truck was high off the ground. When I saw her dress carelessly tossed over to the front seat I knew there was nothin' I wanted to see anyway.

I dragged myself back to my truck and sat there watching that damn red Jeep of hers. Feelin' childish I grabbed the tire iron from under the seat and broke her windshield and headlights. Damn, it felt good though!

I headed home and drove out to an old line shack we kept stocked with food and such about four miles west of the ranch headquarters. I weren't hungry but I knew there was most of a bottle of my old friend Jack Daniels there that I needed to renew my acquaintance with. The first couple of glasses – I was sittin' out front on the grass under the big cottonwood tree – took the edge off my anger and I took a long hard look at my marriage.

By the time I heard the crash of the bottle broken on a rock by a lethargic throw, I came to understand I just didn't give a shit anymore.

Come to noon, I fixed some bacon and eggs and decided I needed a lot of something cold and wet. As I drove past the ranch house I didn't see her Jeep – hell, I bet she never even saw it herself last night.

I drove down towards Knippa to Willy's Tavern just short of town. And here I was listening to more from Hank:

And I dream of kisses you traded for my tears 

And no one will ever know how much I love you 

The beers were adding up so I stumbled back to the restroom. Plumpin' back down on my stool, I saw the bar was clean, the bottles were gone and the bartender had a vindictive gleam in his eye. I was strainin' to think of some smart-ass comment to hit him with when I felt a rustlin' next to me.

I turned my head and saw with some surprise Little Annie was sittin' there. Now I'd known Annie for a long time but I hadn't seen her since her husband Bill was buried - killed when a blow-out on the oil rig he was workin' on over by Odessa caught on fire.

Annie – the Little Annie came from her bein' an even five foot tall (she claimed!) – was the sister of one of the hands I had helpin' me for seasonal work once in a while. 

She looked over at me with a small smile and asked, "Hey, Bobby, buy a girl a drink?"

I looked her in the eye and mumbled, "Annie, I ain't such great company right now. I'm kinda down, ya know?"

Looking down at the bar and rubbing a spot with her finger, she answered, "Yeah, Bobby, I know. I've been feelin' like that for two years now. Damn! I miss the hell out of that asshole!"

Lookin' in the mirror, I could see her eyes were cloudin' up, maybe threatenin' rain. I took stock of her though I knew her well. She was sure 'nuff small but I knew she had a hellacious temper and a huge heart in that tiny body. She'd always had a big smile but I sure didn't see one now.

I held up two fingers and waved them at the bartender. We sat and drank in silence for a while – each lost in our own lonesome thoughts.

She spun around on the chair and looked at me, as if suddenly thinkin' of somethin'. "Hey, whatcha doin' here this late on a week night? Why ain'tcha home with Dottie?"

I waggled my empty again and talking to that homely mug in the mirror I told her about what I'd seen last night. As I was tellin' her, she took my arm in both her small hands and leaned inta me.

When I finished, we sat there for a quiet, long time. Somebody put the money in for a slow song and Annie dragged me off the stool onta the small dance floor. We kinda moved slowly around, not really dancin'. She felt good in my arms. She was about a foot shorter than me but I could feel somethin' firm pressin' inta my stomach. She felt so delicate – I was afraid I was gonna break her.

She looked up at me and laughed, "Don't worry, cowboy, you ain't gonna break anything." She pulled me tight and we just leaned back and forth with the music.

When the song ended, she took my hand and led me out to the parkin' lot. She looked hard at me and said, "Just don't say a damn thing, Bobby."

So she got behind the wheel of my truck – I guess she felt I was in no shape to drive - and she drove to her small house a little south of Sabinal. She pulled me into the house and opened a couple of icy cans of Shiner Bock and led me into her bedroom.

"Bobby, I haven't slept with a man since Bill died and I don't want to sleep alone tonight. I miss having a man in my bed! I don't want to do anything ... I just ... I just want to have a man hold me."

She ran into her bathroom and I stood there thinkin' about her. I guess I understood what she needed and surprisingly I felt like I maybe needed the same thing. She came out in a long white cotton gown and, if it weren't for the curves pushing out all over the place, I'd of sworn she was sixteen.

She lay on the bed and I went in to take a shower. She'd found a tee shirt and some underpants of Bill's somewhere and left them on the bathroom counter. I got my odoriferous clothes off and threw them in a corner. After a long hot shower I put the stuff she left me and went in to lay with her.

We finished our beers and she turned the lights out. She put her head on my shoulder and I swear she was asleep instantly. I lay still for a long time – thinking of Dottie and her asshole friend and realizing how hard it had been for Annie. 

I fell asleep and woke up around two with my arm asleep. I gently disengaged her head from my shoulder and turned away from her. As I fell back asleep, I could feel her snuggle up to me. Maybe it was a dream but those curves sure felt good against me. Dottie had slept in a separate bed for several years because "her back hurt."

I woke up early needing to find that bathroom right away. After relievin' myself, I went back to the bedroom to find that Annie wasn't there. I washed up and put my dirty clothes back on over Bill's underwear (I threw my underwear in the trash). I wandered into the front of the small house and found Annie in the kitchen making flapjacks and frying a big ham steak.

She looked at me, embarrassed kinda, but didn't say anything. I walked up behind her, my hands on her shoulders and smelled her hair – maybe a faint apple blossom aroma. I kissed the top of her head and said quietly, "Thanks, Annie. I needed that. You're a good woman and I hope things work out for you. I know now how hard it is. 

She turned in my arms and held me tightly but didn't say anything. I felt tears in my eyes and didn't know what to say or do.

Annie turned away and put the breakfast on the table. We talked about the ranch – she knew a lot about it from her brother – and about how hard it had been for her.

"Dammit, Bobby, just because my man died, every jerk in the area thinks I'm dying for their manly charms. I've been pinched, pushed and squeezed until I'm black and blue. Thanks for not takin' advantage of me last night."

She hesitated, and continued, "You could have, you know. I'm just so darn lonely ..."

She jumped up and ran back to her bedroom. I got another mug of coffee and went out onto her porch in the early morning coolness. I looked at the risin' sun, an ominous bloody red in the dusty West Texas sky and thought about Dottie and Annie. Dottie and Annie, yeah!

I knew I was through with Dottie but I wasn't sure how to handle it. Did I like Annie? Yeah, I had to say I did. I respected the pain she had gone through and didn't want to hurt her. I had never really understood women and it surely didn't look like I was goin' to start understandin' them now.

I waited for Annie but she didn't show for a longish time. Finally I took the empty mug in and walked to the back of the house to find her. She was lying sprawled out on the bed, her skirt enticingly high, sound asleep with a gentle girlish snore quietly filling the still air of the bedroom. I looked at her legs and felt a stirring in my body but saw the damp spot under her face where her tears had wound up. 

I felt a lump in my throat and quietly backed out. I wrote her a note:

Annie – thanks for everything – you were just what I needed last night. If it's okay, I want to call on you when I get it all figured out with Dottie. I gotta git back to the ranch and make sure the hands are gettin' the chores done.

I'll come over later so we can pick up your truck.

Bobby.

I drove back to the ranch to see what was goin' on with Dottie.

THERE CAME A WOMAN

There came a woman

 Into the house

 And life was ... changed

- "There Came A Woman" Jake Rivers ©

Two weeks after I had completed my degree in Range Management at Texas Tech in Lubbock, my dad had a heart attack and died that night in the hospital. My mom had died while I was in high school and suddenly I was alone in that big ranch house. 

The funeral was a lonely time for me. Sittin' on the porch a couple of weeks later I knew I was at a crossroads. It would be a big challenge to manage the ranch but I was sure I could do it. I did have a good offer for the place but what the hell would I do? I loved the place and always felt comfortable there.

Mostly the place produced cattle – and that was what I loved. The ranch was 4,000 acres that was all deeded land. I had a few hands and hired seasonal workers as needed. The ranch had been in the family since the 1890's and I felt some obligation from that to keep the property. A couple of sons would be nice ...

A rising plume of dust caught my eye and I watched it come down the long ranch road coming off Highway 1049. A two-year-old Caddy pulled up and parked on the asphalt area in front of the large garage with brakes squealin'. As I stared at the car, shakin' my head a little, a tall blonde showed a generous amount of thigh as she slid out.

Lookin' up at me through dark sunglasses, she asked, "Are you Robert Morse?"

"Yeah, I'm Bobby – ain't no one ever called me Robert but my mama ... and that was only when she was well and truly pissed at me. Can I ask what brings you out here in such a hurry that it was necessary to stir up all that dust on a hot day like this?"

She lifted her sunglasses, raised her eyebrows in askance, dropped the glasses back down and walked up on the porch – the short, tight skirt risin' seductively as she made her way up the steps.

Ignorin' my comment, she continued in a brisk, business-like voice, "I'm an appraiser hired by the bank in San Antone. Your dad had several loans with the bank: some on the property, a mortgage on the house, and two separate ones on the ranch equipment. I need to do a complete inspection on everything covered by the loans before the bank can roll over all the paperwork from your dad to you." 

"Okay, I can see that. I have two questions: how long is this going to take and who are you?" I said this last with a little sarcasm dripping off my tongue. I figured she should have introduced herself before she asked who I was.

She laughed a little, and replied, "I'm sorry! I'm Dottie Dutcher. I don't work for the bank; I have a small business of my own, called 'Appraised By Dutcher.' I took it over from my dad when he retired last year. Based on the size of the ranch and the amount of equipment, I'd guess three or four days. Maybe a little less if I didn't have to spend all that time drivin' back and forth from the city."

With a saucy shake of her long hair – well past her shoulders – she added, "Of course if there were a place to stay close to here I could do it in less time." The last was said with the emphasis on close.

It turned out she stayed a week. She started on the house and when we got to my bedroom we kinda got sidetracked for the rest of the day. It was like that all week: she'd appraise for the bank in the mornings and we would appraise each other in the afternoons. Evenings we'd go out to dinner and dancin' and by the time she left we were engaged. I never did figure out exactly what happened. All I know is three months later we got married in San Antone.

Most of the time, it was a pretty good marriage. The sex was better than anything I'd ever had before – which was mostly the college experimentin' stuff. But there were little naggin' things - she was fixated on money and could never get enough. She'd run up to Dallas to places like Neiman Marcus and get the latest fashions two/three times a year.

She seemed to like to party a lot and I didn't like the way she dressed – or undressed as it looked to me ... and I liked it less and less as the years passed. She seemed to want to dance with about anyone but I got all the dances I could handle so I couldn't complain too much.

I was all set for a couple of kids but it seemed she wanted to "have a little fun" first. I guessed we should have talked about it before we got engaged but that first week when she was at the ranch, she had me in such a sexual daze, I didn't know which end was up ... unless she told me.

I got fed up with her flirtin' ways and finally stopped goin' out with her much. She didn't go as much either – maybe a couple times a month with her girlfriends. But it did seem that she would visit her friends more and more over time. There was always some good reason: a bridal shower, a quiltin' bee, some sick kid ... just always somthin' that kept her runnin'. Her shopping trips to Dallas, and now Houston seemed to happen more and more often. It also seemed like she had to do out-of-town appraisin' a lot too.

I asked myself once in a while whether I still loved her or not. After convincin' myself that she still loved me, I'd always get back to wonderin' if I was so sure and all why did I keep askin' the question?

The sex got better and better – I guess you could say it was hot. But it did seem like it wasn't as often. After four or five years of marriage, she got a back problem so we had to get separate beds. A year or two after that, she complained my snoring was so bad she wanted to move into the guest suite downstairs.

Ya gotta understand this was all happenin' so gradual I liked to not notice at all. It was just ever so often somethin' would happen and I would stop and take stock. I wasn't getting' any younger – pushin' forty, hair thinnin', maybe a little beer belly. Life had been full of sunshine when Dottie came into my life ... now it was all shadows and dark places.

Did I love her? Hell, I didn't know!

NEITHER HERE NOR THERE

"It is better to be unfaithful than to be faithful without wanting to be."

- Brigitte Bardot

I left Annie's place and with some resolve I headed home. Love was on my mind – what did it mean? What was it all about? I remembered something Joan Crawford said once:

"Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell."

It sure felt like my house was on fire!

We'd had some good years but could they be brought back? Did I really want to try to start over with Dottie? One thing for sure I wasn't goin' to put up with any shit from her. I don't know, I felt so tired.

I pulled up to the ranch house and her Jeep was parked there. It was a little after noon on a bright, sunny Saturday. I walked in the kitchen door and she was sittin' there with a mug of coffee in her hands. She didn't look too happy with me and immediately proved it.




The Other Woman



"God damn you, Bobby! Where have you been all night? Your clothes look like you slept in them. I've been really worried. Were you with some woman? Dammit, you were, weren't you? If you think you can get away with that shit ... "

She was all red and looked ready to bust a gut. I just looked at her for a minute, kinda neutral like, and walked over to the fridge. I really needed a cold one. I drank half of it down and asked her, quietly, "Dottie, you know anyone that has a white, year-old F-250 crew cab with stakes on the back?"

I downed the rest of the beer and tossed the bottle in the general direction of the trashcan. From the noise of breakin' glass I guess I missed. Dottie had sit down, lookin' a little greenish like the time I tried to get her to eat escargot at that French restaurant in San Antone. I gave her a glare like the one she gives me when I come in from shovelin' the horse stalls and forget to clean off my feet.

I just walked out the door makin' sure to shove the screen wide open so it would give a nice satisfyin' slam. I jumped back in my truck and drove right back where I came from. I was thinkin' of a line from an old Don Rich song: " ... I'm gonna find somebody that's gonna love me like I once loved you."

When I got to Annie's place, she was doin' the same thing I'd been doin' earlier – sittin' on the porch sippin' from a mug of steamin' coffee. I sat down on the bench next to her and gave out what musta been the loudest, saddest sigh ever. She didn't say anything – just went inside and came out with a mug for me. Handin' me the coffee, she sat down, givin' her own sad sigh.

With a small smile, she looked up at me, "We're a likely lookin' couple, ain't we?"

I gave her a small smile back and took her hand in mine. "Wal, I don't know, Annie. I'm sittin' here with the purttiest gal west of San Antone. I know a great place for a picnic and I betcha I can find a good place to go dancin' tonight. Do you think that gal would like to do this with me?"She looked at me for a long minute – lookin' like she was tryin' to make up her mind – then scooted over close, took my arm in her tiny hands and leaned into me. "Sure, Bobby," she said in a quiet voice, not lookin' at me now. "I ... I've had a hard time. I'm not ready to ... you know. But I'm lonely and I know you're hurtin' too. And, Bobby, I do like you a lot. You never knew it but I had the most godawful crush on you before I met Bill."

I turned to her, taking her small frame tight in my arms. I kissed her on the top of the head, buryin' my face in the thick curls. She smelled like those yeller flowers that bloom in the spring on the mountain meadows.

"Annie, I just need a friend now. Someone that can make me smile a little. I've got this big empty place where I used to have a lot of love ... and it hurts a lot. I like you – maybe more than a friend - but I do respect you and how you feel right now.

"Hey? If you give me a big smile, I'll take you on a picnic. Okay, Annie?"

We stopped by the market in Sabinal, pickin' up fried chicken, potato salad and a six-pack of Shiner Bock. I kept a cooler in the back of my truck so we put the lunch there with a bag of ice. Annie had brought some plates and stuff from her kitchen. We would pick up her truck on the way back.

I knew a place I'd been fishin' a lot on the Frio River up by Concan. It was about a quarter mile hike from the road but there was a big live oak leanin' over a still, deep pool of water. There was a fair sized grassy meadow and all in all it was a quiet and pretty place.

I put down a quilt she'd put in the truck and she got the lunch ready. That was one of the best meals I'd ever had – sittin' on that quilt with Annie. The food was simple but good. Afterwards we lay down with her head on my shoulder.

She was quiet for a long time – I thought she'd gone to sleep when I heard her whisper, "Do you still want to go dancin' tonight?"

"Yeah, I do, but my clothes are kinda mussed."

"Oh, that's nuthin'. I can fix that when we get back to my place. Bobby, this place you want to go. Do you think Dottie is gonna be there?"

Damn! I hadn't thought about that. "I guess she might. Is that a problem for you?"

"Well, are you tryin' to use me, Bobby? Tryin' to get back at her or make her jealous or somethin." She sounded a little mad with this.

I considered that for a long minute. "No, no, I don't think so. It's a nice place with a great band and I wanted to take you somewhere nice. I don't deny I'd like to see her dancin' with this guy and maybe let her see I'm not home alone."

"Just don't use me, Bobby. Just ... please don't."

I could feel her shakin' a little – I guessed she was cryin'. I put my arms around her holdin' her tight. As I thought about what I wanted ... and maybe what I didn't want, she fell asleep. I was thinkin' that, no, I wouldn't hurt her as I fell asleep too.

It was late in the day when we woke. We gathered everything up and walked back to the truck. I dropped her off at the bar so she could pick up her truck and followed her home.

She rummaged around in the closet and found a box of Bill's old things. The pants were fine but the shirts were a tad tight in the shoulders but were okay ... 'cept the shirt was a lot flashier than I liked to wear – all flowers and things. There was a fine Stetson on the shelf in a plastic bag that fit fine. While Annie pressed the clothes, I shined my shoes and took a shower. I used her razor to shave with but kept gettin' this image of her shavin' her legs while takin' her shower. Damn!

I finished that last beer while she got ready. I have to say she cleaned up real well! She had on some newish cowgirl boots, a full denim skirt and a pretty shirt with even more flowers than Bill's had.

We drove over to the same dance hall I'd seen Annie at those two nights ago. It was pretty late, maybe nine-thirty when we got there. I saw Dottie with her 'friend' and another couple sittin' close to the band. I grabbed a table maybe three or four tables down from the band from where she was. I wanted her to know that I was here but I didn't want to have to look at her with her friends.

Annie and I danced a few numbers. Ever once in a while Dottie would be dancin' close and each time she looked a little madder. I could see she was workin' up to somethin' and I should have skedaddled and took Annie home. But sometimes I ain't as smart as I should be.

Finally during a slow dance Dottie had her temper take over from whatever sense she'd had. She grabbed Annie by the shoulder and pulled her away from me.

"Is this the slut you slept with last night?" 

Unfortunately this came just as the band finished the song and it came out real loud! Annie turned a bright red and started cryin'.

I stared at Dottie a few seconds – I think I had some idea of countin' to ten – but I was too pissed.

Consciously making myself as loud as Dottie had been, I yelled at her, "You know what a slut is? A slut is a tramp that goes out to some man's truck, gets in the back seat, and throws her dress over the seat! It's not hard to guess what happens after that, is it? Now, Dottie, this is what I saw you doing Thursday night with that little asshole standin' over there. So you know, Dottie, I guess that makes you the slut!"

With that I grabbed Annie's hand and walked quickly back outside. I put her in the truck, walked around, and drove to her house. She didn't want me to come in – she was still cryin' and I could see she was upset.

"Annie, I'm sorry. I had no idea she would do somethin' like that. Dammit, she's probably been runnin' around for years on me and gets mad at me just for dancin'."

I took her and led her over to the bench on the front porch. "Annie, I don't want you to go in upset like this. Please sit on the porch with me for a while, okay?"

I took my handkerchief and wiped her tears away as we sat down. I put my arm around her and we sat there for fifteen minutes or so. I could feel the tenseness ease out of her as she gradually relaxed. Finally I stood up and held out a hand for her. I held her closely for a bit then kissed her nose lightly. Neither of us said anything as I turned and went over to my truck. I could see her standing there as I drove off.

When I got back to the ranch I saw asshole's truck sittin' in the yard. I jerked open the screen door and saw them sittin' there drinkin' beer.

Dottie started, "Bobby! He was just givin' me a ride home."

I grabbed the beer from his hand and tried another throw at the trashcan. Damn! I cain't throw for shit. I grabbed the kid's shirt and, opening up the screen, threw him outside. He scrambled up and ran for his truck.

I turned back to Dottie. "Dammit, its bad enough you go whorin' around with this guy, but ... damn! How could you let him drink my beer?"

With that I walked away and spend the next two nights at the line shack. Sunday I went over to Annie's and we sat around and talked. She was still pretty upset. I think it was more at me than Dottie but she didn't say anything. She was just real quiet. That night I took her out for steaks at a nice place in Sabinal. Monday she fixed me dinner and afterwards I lay down with her until she fell asleep.

Dottie had been leavin' messages for me and I figgered it was time to settle things. 

THE OTHER WOMAN

"... for it was you who was careless

and you drove me into another's arms"

- "The Other Woman" by Don Rollins

I don't know what Dottie wanted to do but I knew it was over for me. Was somethin' goin' to happen with Annie? I didn't know but I was beginnin' to hope so. I guess what tore things with me was when I realized I'd rather spend time with Annie than with Dottie.

I couldn't believe how I'd changed my perspective in just a couple of days. That night I saw her in that truck - saw that dress flyin' over the seat – I'd been devastated. Now it came to me that it had been my pride that was ruined and I actually felt pretty good. Bottom line? My marriage had been over for a couple of years but no one got around to telling me about it.

I didn't see any problem with a divorce. Dottie's dad was kinda crazy about buyin' land. He'd never sell any – just kept on buyin'. Three/four years ago he'd started putting Dotties name on all the property. She basically gave him her paycheck and he put it into land. So she didn't have any cash but her holdings in the land with her dad was worth more than the value of my ranch.

Damn! I had us divorced already and I hadn't even talked to her yet.

I set somethin' up with her for the next Saturday to talk. Meanwhile we just seemed to avoid each other – I guess neither of us was lookin' forward to layin' it all out.

Friday night we was both home and she did fix a nice dinner. I'd played hooky from work that day and drove down to Choke Canyon Reservoir. It was a ways south of San Antone, a little over a hundred miles from the ranch to the spot where I liked to fish. I caught a mess of large mouth bass and to her credit, Dottie did know what to do with them.

We were still kinda stayin' away from each other so we didn't talk too much. Later I was sittin' on the front porch slowly nursin' a beer and thinkin' about our meeting the next day. 'Bout ten Dottie came out wearin' a black teddy. Now Dottie in a black teddy is a sight to behold – and I gotta confess that at least some parts of me were surely interested.

I looked at her for a minute and told her, while I wiggled the bottle in my hand, "I'll be in as soon as I finish my beer."

Now I know I did wiggle that bottle – and I confess there are those that would think I meant I'd come in when I finished that bottle – but what I meant was what I said. I'd come in when I finished my beer. And somewhere around two, there were eight empty bottles lined up on the porch rail. And I'm here to tell ya, I was finished with my beer. I knew she'd be pissed but, as I went in to sleep on the cowhide sofa in the ranch office, I wasn't too worried about it. What was she gonna do, cheat on me? Mebbeso, mebbeso!

The next mornin' while I was takin' my coffee on the porch, she came out dressed in a tight yeller sundress that she'd used in the past to twist me around her finger. Some guys would do anything to get that sundress off her.

I gave her a bleak look, "You wanna talk this mornin'?

"Yes, Bobby. That's the plan we made."

"Okay, then, go change that dress into a shirt and jeans and wear your ridin' boots."

She looked at me for a minute like I was crazy but finally shook her pretty head and flounced back in the house. When she came back out, I had a pinto I especially liked and had her roan mare saddled.

I didn't say anything – just mounted up and started walkin' my horse across country towards the line shack. I could hear her quietly cussin': it sounded somethin' like, " ... damn pig headed ... "

I picked the line shack 'cause this was my turf; she almost never went up there. I also didn't want any interruptions – no phone calls, no stompin' out, nuthin'. I wanted us to resolve everything and to do it today. 

I took the saddles off and slipped the bits of the reins and turned the horses loose in the small corral. I'd stocked up stuff for sandwiches – we had electricity out to the line shack but no phone line.

There was a picnic table under the big live oak so we sat down there. She was on the seat and I was sittin' on top of the table.

I got us started, "Dottie, I'd like to ask a couple of questions first, then we can talk about anything you want to. First, what's important to you, I mean in our marriage – what's important between you and I?"

She was quiet for a while, then lookin' up at me she replied, "Well, I don't think we go out enough. I know you're tired after working on the ranch all day but I like to go out dancin' and stuff. I really enjoy it."

"Okay, Dottie, I can see that. I like to do that stuff too but you are right – I am tired and just don't have the energy to go out during the week. What else do you have to tell me? And how long've you been sleepin' around?"

She looked down at the ground and didn't say anything for the longest time. Finally lookin' up she replied, "Oh, Bobby! I'm so sorry. The first time was a couple of years ago. It was kinda like with us. I'd gone out to this guy's ranch for an appraisal and when we finished it was late." She looked down again as she continued, " I stayed for dinner and we had a couple of drinks, and ... oh, Bobby, I'm so sorry."

I didn't reply. What she said hurt ... it hurt a lot but it almost seemed like it was happening to someone else. Maybe my pride was hurt more than anything.

Finally she started again, "I don't know. I've always loved you, Bobby. You know that. I guess, well, maybe I didn't love you enough. It wasn't a lot of guys – four altogether counting Jerry which started a couple of weeks ago. None of them lasted more that a few weeks. It's just that every once in a while ... "

Here she drifted off into silence, lookin' like she was worryin' over somethin'. "Bobby, is there someone else? Is Annie the other woman?"

She said "other woman" like she'd eaten somethin' sour.

A little stronger, she continued, "Is there, Bobby?"

I waited her out – waited until she looked up at me. I gently shook my head, "No, Dottie. There's been no one. I knew things weren't always goin' well between us but I sure never expected to see what I saw last week. If someone had told me they saw what I did, I'd of beat the crap out of them. I feel ... well, I feel soiled."

"About Annie? Well, nuthin' has happened – in fact the first time I saw her in over a year was the day after I saw you in that guy's truck. Nuthin' happening was her choice. I have to say I was ready for anything I was so down over us. Do I want somethin' to happen? I'd have to say yes. But, Dottie, in no way is Annie or anyone else "the other woman."

She started crying a little over that and then asked, "What happens now, Bobby? Can we make it or is it over?" 

Tumbling that around in my mind, I answered, "Well, Dottie, do you want to stay together knowing there would be no more runnin' around?"

Looking up, she replied, "Bobby, I really would like to stay with you. You are a great guy – the nicest man I've ever met." Turning her head, looking off down the hill, she said softly, "But, Bobby, in some ways that's not all that I want. I don't know if I can give you what you want and need from me. I'm sorry, Bobby!"

"Well, Dottie, that's pretty much how I feel. I couldn't live with you doin' this stuff. I've thought a lot about it the last few days and I think we were too young when we got married. The lust was great for a few years but, when we needed somethin' deeper, it just wasn't there."

I put my hand on her shoulder, "Dottie, let's not make this ugly. Why don't you move in with your dad for a couple of months and then we can get back together and see where we are. I'm not asking anything of you but I won't do anything with anyone else. I will be datin' Annie if she wants to but I won't have sex with her until we make a final decision. Is that okay?"

She leaned her head against my leg and wrapped her arm around it. She sat there for the longest time and then stood up with a sigh and looked at me. "Yeah, Bobby, I think that's best. I want to keep you as a friend – I know my dad likes you a lot. I'll call you if I need anything."

With that I saddled the horses and we made it back down the hill to the ranch house. I helped Dottie pack a couple of suitcases and several boxes and put them in the back of the Jeep. I watched her as she got behind the wheel – marveling once again what a beautiful woman she was. I thought of a song I'd heard by Faron Young a couple days ago called "The Other Woman."

The other woman isn't prettier than you

But the other woman soothes my wounded pride

I felt kinda strange – I mean a major part of my life was getting' ready to drive away. Before the dust of her Jeep had settled, I was sittin' on the porch with a cold beer seein' Annie laying on her bed with her skirt hiked up and her hair scattered all loose over her pillow. It wasn't so much as a sexual thought – although there was that – it's that this image had grabbed my imagination ... maybe found a home in a corner of my heart. She was certainly gettin' under my skin.

I wanted to move slowly with her. There was a rodeo comin' up in Uvalde in a couple of weeks and I called to invite her. She asked how things were with Dottie.

"Annie, I'd rather not talk about that over the phone but I do want to talk about it."

"Okay, Bobby. Can you make it to Willy's Tavern tomorrow at seven? I want to hear all about this."

So we agreed and when I got there I sat down at a booth waitin' for Annie. The same damn cowboy was still playin' the juke box feelin' sad about losin' his love to "the wild side of life."

Annie came in and sat next to me and we decided to have coffee. I told her about the meeting at the line shack and how it had ended.

"Annie, I told her I'd like to start datin' you." I guess I looked a little scared.

"What else, buster?" she asked with an non-committal tone in her voice.

Turning a little red, I replied, "I also told her I wouldn't have sex with you until we made a final decision!"

I thought she was mad for a minute but then she hit me in the side with her elbow, "Like you had anything to say about it anyway!" Then she started laughin', "Yes, you can date me and, yes, you cain't have sex with me until you agree on a divorce."

She did have me over for dinner one night and afterwards she sat on my lap as we kissed for a while. The rodeo was fun and we both knew a lot of the competitors so one or another of them would come over and say hi. We went out for dinner afterwards and one Saturday I took her up to the line shack for a picnic.




The Other Woman



She had been to the ranch a number of times with her brother but she'd never been up to the line shack. She was enchanted by the place and the view of the ranch. We were lyin' on a quilt under the big live oak doin' some serious "getting' to know each other better" stuff (her words). She sat up and looked down at the ranch buildings. 

She dreamily murmured, "This would be a nice place for a honeymoon – or maybe Maui."

I was half asleep and asked, "What did you say about Maui?"

"Oh, nuthin'. I was just thinkin'."

~~~~~~

After three months, I met with Dottie and we did part friends. Both of us had already moved on. She wanted a few things from the ranch house and wanted to keep her mare and saddle but basically we just walked away from each other. We did stay in touch and, a couple of years later she married a lawyer and moved to Fort Worth.

Annie and I kept dating and getting' closer – the lovin' was getting' steamier all the time – but we hadn't slept together again. Annie said she just wasn't ready yet. I was in no hurry. I knew more and more I loved her in a way I never loved Dottie and wanted a marriage that would last for the ages.

About a month after the divorce was final Annie looked over at me one mornin' after I'd come over for breakfast and we were enjoyin' our second mug of coffee. "Bobby, I'm ready! Can we take a trip somewhere – I'd really like this to be special!"

I went around to her side of the table and takin' her hand I raised her up. Holding her tight I whispered in her ear, "Are you sure about this, honey?"

She squeezed me tight and murmured a quiet "yes!" in my ear.

I whispered back, "Okay, how about we pack up the truck and drive down to Choke Canyon Reservoir and go fishin' for a week."

She poked me in the stomach with her small fist and said in a nasty tone I'd never heard from her, "Robert Joseph Morse you are one wrong word away from seein' how I gut a fish!"

Okay, okay, so there are some things she don't wanna joke about. 

I kissed her ear, nuzzlin' her a bit, and whispered, "Annie, I'll plan somethin' for next week."

My favorite hotel in San Antone was The St. Anthony. The first good thing it had goin' for it was that it was on East Travis. There were probably more boys in Texas named Travis – a name revered in Texas history – than any other name. The hotel was built in 1909 and they really don't build them like they used to. It was a lovely place that my parents used to go every year on their anniversary.

I set it up and it was great. If Annie wasn't sure she loved me before, she knew it now. I'm not one for sharin' intimacies ... I'll just say we got real close that weekend. I knew Annie was passionate but damn, that gal was a wildcat!

I had been smart enough to get her a ring and one night while we were dinin' on the Riverwalk, near the Alamo, I got down on my knees and everthin' and Annie just cried. It took near a half-hour 'fore I figgered out she had said yes.

~~~~~~

And how did it all end? Well Annie and I got married a few months after we went to San Antone and we spent our honeymoon at the old line shack. Well, actually we went to Hawaii and, after we got back, we spent a night at the line shack but who's complainin'.

And "the other woman?" She's "the woman" now. And there will never be another "other!" She did say somethin' about bein' late one day at dinner. Ain't that just like a woman – they seem to be late all the time. 'Cept this time bein' late meant I'd have a boy to take over the ranch for me in a few years ... and we named him Travis.



The Other Woman



"Come on Wilbur, it's time. Come with me Sugar, we have to leave."

Those words woke the woman from her fitful sleep, but she heard them as plain as day. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark surroundings, she could just make out the shadowed presence standing by their bed. By the size and shape, it was impossible to tell who or what was there. The voice however, had been distinctly feminine, sultry and deep, but feminine just the same. Was she dreaming? No, this was real, she'd never had those kinds of dreams before. 

Not sure of the consequences, she felt compelled to ask, "Who are you, what do you want with my husband?"

"Go back to sleep Jayne, this is no concern of yours," came the answer.

"You come into my house in the middle of the night and you dare to say this doesn't concern me, what kind of fool do you take me for?" she asked with scorn.

"Oh sweet Jayne, You are the biggest fool. You cheat on your husband, you justify your actions by telling yourself "He'll never know, just one more time," yet Jayne, he does know. He's known almost from the start. Wilbur trudges on in life with the hope that someday you will stop your affairs, he prays daily that today will be the day. He begs that you will somehow see the error of your actions and return your love to him, and him alone.

"He loves you Jayne, with a love that you will never comprehend. He overlooks your shortcomings, and what do you repay him with but lies and deceit. You should have realized by now that Wilbur is one of a kind. He is the man that supported you when you failed to conceive, he stood by you in those dark days of depression. He was the man that insisted it wasn't your fault, he took the blame for your inadequacies. This man bore the brunt of your anger, when even you understood it wasn't his fault. 

"A love that deep Jayne, should be treasured and rewarded, it should be held on a pedestal for all to see. But alas, you did nothing to acknowledge the passion, you cast it away with a shrug. You Jayne, see fit to repay this man with a cold shoulder. Tell me Jayne, when was the last time you made love to him?"

"It was just last..." Jayne stammered.

"No Jayne, I'm not asking about that tawdry emotionless display of guilt last month. When Jayne did you last feel the adoration that you once did, the joy of love for this man. It has been several years Jayne, years that you gave to others, years that you can never repeat or reclaim. You stole that time and sold it to your lovers Jayne, but now it will be you that pays the penalty."

"What are you saying, what do you mean by penalty? Surely you're not expecting me to believe that you're going to take him from me? He won't go, he loves me and would never think of such a thing," Jayne retaliated.

"Jayne, Jayne, Jayne, my dear girl, you have no say in this matter. This is strictly between Wilbur and me, shortly we will walk out that door together, arm in arm, never to return."

"I won't allow it, you can't just barge in here and take him, it's me that he loves, Wilbur would never leave me for another woman," Jayne stood her ground, "If he leaves with you, it will be over my dead body," Jayne professed.

A deep throaty laugh ensued, "Do not tempt me Jayne, that could certainly be arranged, but I am not here for "you" just yet. Your time will come soon, soon enough, and when I come for you, there will be no one there to beg for a reprieve. No one to grieve your departure from this earth, you will beg for me to take you away from your miserable existence."

Jayne was trying hard to understand what was happening. Wilbur was being taken, but by who, where was he going, why wouldn't he return? Who was this cloaked figure that had come uninvited into her home? Why would anyone want to take Wilbur away? "He wasn't much of a man, he didn't look the same as he had thirty years ago. He was loosing his hair and had gained weight, sure he provided a good life for them both, but did that make up for all of the time that she had been left alone. He wasn't a happy man anymore, it was hard to sit in the same room with him while he looked at her with his sad pitiful eyes." Jayne thought to herself.

The voice had threatened her, what did she mean by that. "No one to grieve my departure, humph, there would be plenty of people that would be sorry if I were gone. I can think of at least... Well, there is... no, we haven't spoken at all since she found out about my affair with Harry. Surely Harry would care if... " And suddenly she began to see.

"Poor Jayne, I hate to interrupt you thoughts, but it is time for me to go. I have other appointments to keep, Wilbur and I will be going now."

"No please don't take him, he's all I've got. How will I go on without him. I beg you, please, you have to give me another chance. I can change, I will change, it will be better, you'll see. I love him, it's just that..." Jayne sobbed.

"The time for atonement is past Jayne, his heart is broken beyond repair. You will live like you have in the past, you didn't need Wilbur then, did you Jayne. He was treated like an old unloved faithful dog. You kicked him, but he was still there to lick your hand. Trust me Jayne, he will be happier now, and you can lead your life alone without fear of him finding the truth, the truth that he already knows."

Jayne reached for Wilbur, "He would make this better, he always had. He could tell her to leave, he'll protect me from her. Everything would be as it once had, Wilbur loves me," she thought. His face felt cold to the touch, Jayne clutched her heart. She instinctively knew that Wilber was gone.

Through her tears, she saw a transparent Wilbur sit up and stretch the sleep away. The opaque lifeless shape remained as her former lover rose and accepted the outstretched hand extended to him. He smiled back at Jayne, his arms locking together with the Angel of Death. He gave her a little wave, then turned his hand and extended his middle finger to her. Jayne read his lips for the last time, as he seemed to say "Up yours Jayne." 



The Other Woman



I was well married with 6 children and an Irish wife. She was short with a marvelous figure topped with curly black hair and sparkling eyes. We were living in a nice home and I was making a good living as a contractor in the Southeast, having recently moved there from the western desert area. We had experienced some ups and downs but life was not only good now, it was excellent. I kept the business small by choice enjoying the work and challenges on a daily basis. I knew that if I expanded too much, I would be working for my employees, doing bookwork and finding new contracts to keep them busy. I enjoyed the challenges of coming up with solutions for the problems that present themselves to business and homeowners. I could also charge more if I could solve problems that others could not.

I was in my early forties, my wife was two years younger and our children ranged from the youngest in kindergarten to the oldest, a freshman in college. At 5'10" in height, I was average in weight, size and looks. My wife enjoyed staying at home to look after the two youngest children and keeping our house in order, against the mayhem six kids can cause.

I became known for my solutions for knotty problems of design and/or construction. I even designed, and built, a curved door for a restaurant that had a round room and needed a door to match. One large company liked my work and started giving me a lot of jobs. This required that I stop by their office frequently, often on a daily basis.

One of the office workers was a very pretty young woman, in her late twenties. It turned out that she was divorced, with two small daughters, and was supporting them with this job. She was slender with light brown hair in a medium length style. I noticed a quick smile on a pretty face and a very nice figure, not looking for long as I was very happy at home. I did notice that some of the other small contractors had her type things for them occasionally and paid her for it to help her survive.

As I said before, my company was small and I had no real bookkeeper or typist. To help this young lady out, I paid her, on the side, to type out my invoices and billings as well. It was a big help to me and I'm sure that it was a benefit to her.

Betty and I became friends over the several years of our acquaintance. We had Betty and her children over to our house several times and the two families got to know each other a bit. Life was a struggle for her and we tried to help some, now and then, as well as paying for the typing she did for me.

Things changed some for me. The humid weather in the Southeast was getting to my wife and I, especially me. You could hear my knees creak as I went up the stairs of our two story house. I decided to sell out and move back out West where it was warm and dry.

We had sent some money and a power of attorney to my mother, in the West, and asked her to buy a house for us as an investment. She was experienced at this and had purchased a nice house for us and had renters in it. After about a year, the renters sent us a letter notifying us that they would be moving at the end of their lease, leaving the house empty. My wife and I talked about it and decided to fill it with us. There was a gap of a couple of months while we waited for school to let out, then we packed and moved.

I had sold my business to a bright young man and had worked with him for a while to get him used to type of work I specialized in. He was convinced that it would work out for him. In checking back, a few years later, that had proved to be true.

We moved and our lives went on. Our children grew up, married and had families of their own, some staying nearby and some moving to other states.

My wife and I lived and loved as we had done for years. We formed new friends and had great lives. We traveled a lot, from camping in the West to visiting Mexico many times. She liked to go to Ireland every couple of years to visit family, aunts, uncles and cousins galore. We traveled together to England, France and Spain, too.

Our lives went on and we got older. After the children left the home, we only had each other, but that was enough. We were friends and lovers as well as husband and wife. She was a brilliant woman and knew bookkeeping so she got a job to occupy her time. Fine. I encouraged her. She took up some hobbies. Fine. I encouraged her.

I enjoyed exploring the West, but as she aged, she did not like the rigors of making camp, saying that she preferred to make reservations, instead. She did, however, encourage me to continue which I did, often taking a grandchild with me. River rafting and exploring the West.

She stayed home and "did lunch". She and her lady friends had lunch often. They knew that while the big hotels and resorts had expensive dinners, lunches were not costly; the food was just as good and the service was excellent, as was the ambiance. So she did lunch.

Time went on and we aged more. Many of our friends died. We had lunch together often and still enjoyed each others company. We could talk for hours and yet be interested. As I said, she was a brilliant lady. Both words applied to her; she was brilliant and also a lady. Now older and heavier, snow white hair that was naturally curly, she still had a sly, sharp wit that was a delight. True Irish heritage.

One day she became ill and I took her to the emergency room of a nearby hospital. They kept her there for most of the day, monitoring her condition. Then they moved her to the ICU, or Intensive Care Unit. I was concerned, but not worried as a number of her family members had lived to their nineties. I was always sure that I would go first. In fact, even our children thought that, too.

Early the next morning I got a call from her doctor. He said that I should come to the hospital right away. I hung up and asked one of my kids to drive me over, as a couple of them lived in the same neighborhood. The only reason for the cryptic call was that something serious had happened and I didn't want an accident on the way there, caused by my distraction. I barely remember the ride, not taking note of anything along the way. I knew she was going, or gone. 

You think you are prepared for the fact that a loved one is dead, but it still hits you hard.

The doctor explained that he was talking to her, on his morning rounds in the ICU ward, and when they finished their conversation, he had turned to go out the door of the room. That's when the monitoring alarms went off. She had died instantly when a clot blocked her heart.

All I could do when I got there was hold her cold hand while my mind raced a hundred miles an hour and went a thousand places. She was gone. It was over. It had been one Hell of a ride, as they say. Over fifty years with few arguments and a lot of joy. My best friend and lover. Gone.

I managed. Even months later, when something interesting came up on television, I would turn to her chair beside mine in the family room, to make a comment and she wasn't there. I finally had to remove the chair in an effort to drive home the point that she was gone. Wherever I drove and saw some new construction or something different, I still turned to the seat beside me, in my pickup, to make a comment. Empty. I managed with difficulty. The habit still persists, another pickup and two years later. 

A while back there was an event that has given me a lot of thought. It may hound me the rest of my life. That's not the best description. I should say that it will always remain in my memory. One day, the doorbell rang and I opened the door. There was Betty. Older, of course, but still very good looking. I was astounded. Speechless. That same slender, light brown haired woman with a quick smile who had only a few tiny wrinkles to admit to any aging. She still had a great figure and sparkling eyes and she was smiling at me.

Over the years, I had heard about her, now and then. She had remarried to a very nice man and her girls had grown up and had lives of their own now, as my children had. She was doing well and still living in the Southeast. Here she was, to see me. She had taken a vacation to see Las Vegas and decided to come down to visit me, also.

In the course of our conversations for the next two days, she confessed that when we had known each other, years ago, that she had been infatuated with me. I hadn't had a clue. She may have dropped some hints, but I was so involved with my wife, I never noticed. A further shock besides her unannounced appearance. I was blindsided and extremely flattered at the same time.

I admitted to her that at the time I had no clue. As I told her, "I lived to spoil Catherine and she spoiled me for anyone else".

She admitted that she knew that, as she had met my wife, observed our relationship, and knew that she didn't have a chance. We parted as friends and correspond by e-mail often, now.

I can only speak for myself, but I have tried to play the devils advocate ever since. What would have happened if I had recognized and taken those hints, years ago? Could we have become lovers and had an affair? How long would it have lasted? Would it have been discovered and what would have been the consequences? If I had divorced my wife and married Betty, would she have picked up and moved West with me? If so, would she like it there, as she was born and raised in the Southeast and had never traveled much? There was some age difference but that didn't seem an obstacle. What would have been my children's attitude toward me had I divorced, or left their mother? What if? There are still a thousand thoughts going through my mind.

She was single then and I was happily married. Now she is happily married and I am the single one. Fate is cruel sometimes and often capricious. What to do and what to say when we meet again, and we shall, as I promised her lunch at the El Tovar, the grand old hotel on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon this spring. I know what I would like to say and do, but I won't. It wouldn't be fair, but the temptation is there.

I am tempted to put my arms around her and hold her close while I lightly caress and kiss every square inch of her lovely body until she moans with pleasure, then we'd slowly ramp it up from there, moment by exciting moment. But I won't. I will keep those pictures in my mind, though, and those pictures will keep an old man warm the rest of his remaining days. I will always wonder what she has thought all these years and further wonder why she stopped by, but I'll never ask. I shall always remember the pleasure and the compliment her statement gave me that afternoon. And the prevailing question always pops up in my mind- what if?