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When Fantasy Becomes Reality Ch. 01

By: danishmichaela



Was it a fantasy or was it becoming reality? Was it all in my dramatically vivid imagination or had these events actually happened? Did I dream them or act them out? Was it all simply emotional or had my physical being been involved as well?

I was getting to the stage where I wasn't all that sure. I knew that the psychological and emotional nightmare I'd gone through just before and for some time after my husband and I had decided to live apart had done things to me. Unbalanced me a little, unsettled me and had played tricks with my feelings and thoughts. The absence of his mental stimulation, albeit in the later times of a quite negative way, the loneliness I suffered during, particularly, the first few months of him staying in Copenhagen and me moving to London and the brain wrenching thinking I'd gone through as I set out on planning a whole new life had made me very introspective. I had gone to bed many nights my head so full of worries, guilt, hopes and plans that I'd laid awake for hours my mind in a whirl. 

The loss of sex with him and the knowledge that he was finding that elsewhere didn't help. Ok being Danish we had a cooler, more relaxed and very different outlook on sex to most countries. All the time we had been together our relationship had been open and we had both had other partners, but that was part of a Danish marriage. In the end he always came back to me. But now he didn't and that hurt so much more than I could ever have imagined.

On top of that I was drinking too much and smoking far too many spliffs and had taken to the odd snort of Charlie now and then.

Despite my full resolve to effectively finish with him there was hardly an evening and certainly never a full day when I didn't think of him inside me, him kissing my breasts or placing his face between my legs or me feeling his erection against all parts of my body and in my mouth. That I was enormously frustrated I had no doubt, although it was not a state of which I had much experience for usually we had sex four or five times a week. My entire body almost continuously ached and pulsated for the touch of a man on it and my complete being and brain screamed out for the relief he would bring by giving me a total orgasm.

So why not take up some of the offers I get from guys I know in London? I had done that many times before so why not now? I have no idea. I was mixed up in so many ways and that was just another example as was my convoluted logic. I sort of rationalised things as: I didn't want any romantic involvement with a new guy; I dreaded becoming emotionally dependent upon anyone; I hated the phoniness of one-night stands, the 'I don't usually do this as I suck the dick of a total stranger' or the 'yes of course I feel something for you' and the 'you are not just a one night stand to me' bullshit.

All these mental and physical sensations were now combining and closing in on me. In my depressed and confused state they seemed to merge fantasy into reality to a point that I was at times not sure where one ended and the other began.

Had I really spent time driving around the East End of London looking for likely places? Was I imagining that hidden in a suitcase securely locked so that no one could 'accidentally' find them, was the thin, black leather dress, with the spaghetti straps and the black fishnet holdup stockings? Was I kidding myself when I sat in my apartment in London Docklands, perhaps finishing a bottle of wine or smoking a joint on the balcony, planning it down to every detail? Living every moment, imagining what it would be like, how I'd feel doing it and after? Thinking what would he would be like, how he'd react and how he'd treat me?

I'd given myself a timetable. I'm like that sometimes. When I have a big decision to make I often say to myself. "Give it two or three weeks and if the idea hasn't gone away then decide a date and then do it." So I did that. If I still had the fantasy in mind after so much time then I would do it on such and such a date.

And I did still have it in my mind. If anything it was firmer and as that period of thinking ended so the excitement mounted and the idea took on a clearer view and my resolve became stronger. So the actual date was set for 7 days away, a Thursday night, chosen specifically for it was the Cityboy's night out and I knew the pubs would be full with what I needed to be there.

Had I really arranged to leave work early and booked the next day off to give me the freedom and peace of mind to act my fantasy out? Was I actually standing in my bedroom naked taking the suitcase from the top shelf of the wardrobe? Was it in my mind that I was removing the clothes and laying them on the bed or was the feel of the black leather real and strangely exciting me? Standing looking at myself in the mirror clad just in the long, seamed, black, fishnet holdups I could hardly make out whether they were real or whether the blatantly erotic image was me. And when I slipped the tight, short dress on and again looked in the mirror did I know whether that was really a reflection of me, with the vividly tarty, shiny leather pelmet of a skirt and black net stockings, or was that image a figment of my sexually tormented imagination? Had I really, completely purposefully avoided pulling on any panties or bra, not that the dress could be worn with such a garment, I wondered as I slipped the thin straps up my arms and onto my shoulders? Would I really sit in a bar wearing such a blatant 'come and fuck me dress' I was thinking as I clipped the two sides at the front together and settled that clasp between my breasts? Was that also a reflection or was something playing tricks with my mind I wondered as I looked and tried working out what other's gazes would think as they saw the masses of bare flesh. Not just on my shoulders, back and chest where the low cut dress left little to the imagination about the size and fullness of my breasts, but also of my lower chest. To add even more sluttishness to the sordid creation the designer had left a circle of flesh about six inches in diameter bare beneath the clasp that snuggled between my tits. Still not sure whether the mirror was sending back faithful reflections or whether it was all in my mind I saw the woman sitting, crossing her legs, slowly, and I watched mesmerised as the skirt slid up her legs until beneath its hem could be made out the darker strip of her stocking tops telling whoever might be looking that she was indeed wearing stockings.

In a daze, a dream, a flight of fantasy or maybe in vague reality it went on. Was that really the rather prudish, 30 something year old, now single, professional woman casting that image of an utter slag from the mirror. Could it really be the successful businesswoman, the banker, the head of a massive department and the bastion of middle class Copenhagen and now London Docklands that beamed back from the beguiling glass of the full-length mirror? Was it her or mirage that was looking, at best, an easy, good time girl or, with just a tad more imagination, a rather cheap whore about to go on parade? And that thrilled me, it played to my needs and desires, my imagination and the fantasy that had been gathering strength in my mind ever since I parted from Kel and had my supply of sex curtailed.

It could well have been part of the fantasy or a particularly vivid dream that saw me wrap a long, black leather coat around me and call a cab. It could have all been in my mind as I climbed out just ten minutes later outside a drinking club in Bethnal Green. Yes I felt nervous. Yes I was concerned and worried about how it would go. Not worried for my safety for I was ok on that and accepted that some pain might be needed to fulfil my fantasy, but more just what it would be like, how I'd feel and what it would do to my feelings and emotions.

As I walked slowly across the room to take a seat at the bar so my feelings began to explode. I saw lots of eyes following me as I undid the coat and let it drape down my back as I perched myself on the high stool. I saw several men's eyes riveted on me as I lifted myself and locked one heel of the, almost, stiletto high heels in the rung between the legs of the stool. In a surprisingly calm voice I heard me ordering a vodka with a drain of waterdry white wine from the young waitress behind the bar. I was beginning to experience some of the feelings I'd imagined so often as I sat there knowing I was being ogled and possibly also spoken about amongst the, largely, male clientele. It wasn't long before I was offered a drink that I declined or before a man asked if I was waiting for someone. I said I was and turned away. 

It was getting towards 10.30 the time I knew from my fantasy research when many of the customers would move onto the clubs nearby and sure enough it started thinning out. I casually looked around and saw several couples, male and female, a few groups of men and several guys by themselves. In my fantasy or this new reality I looked each of the singles up and down when they were looking at the TV so they wouldn't notice. One was in his forties At least and was immediately rejected along with another younger guy with ginger hair who was no more than 5 feet6 or so. I wondered if the fantasy was about to unravel when looking around slightly panicking I only saw two others and neither of them in any way met the image I'd dreamed up during the long time I'd been thinking about it. And then I saw him. Coming out of the men's room he was over six feet tall, nicely built with a shock of blondish hair. Fairly good looking, although that was of no real concern to me, I saw as he came closer walking past me that he could not have been more than 21 or so. Perfect I thought turning a little on the stall to follow where he went. 

It was time. All the thought, the planning and the fantasising were about to come together. I tried to recall exactly how I'd imagined doing this as I'd laid in my bed so many times masturbating about it. I tried to shake my head to see whether I might wake up and find that it had been a particularly vivid erotic dream. I tried to see if really I was in my home and that my imagination had gone into overdrive and all this was the fantasy and not the reality. But as I turned on the stall so that I could look directly at him it didn't seem unreal for I could feel the unlined leather on my bare bottom, slightly sticking to me. And as I saw him look straight at me the sudden pounding of my heart felt far from anything other than real. I caught his eye and I quickly looked away, taking a swig of my drink. Holding the glass to my lips I looked back and he was still looking at me. I held his gaze a moment and this time he looked away. I took another sip averting my gaze from him as I did. But then with my phone in one hand and the drink in the other held near to my lips I raised my eyes and caught his stare. I held his gaze looking deep into his eyes as my pulse raced. I slipped my tongue out almost unconsciously and licked the rim of the glass, suggestively I thought. 

Was I really doing this? Was this actually happening, at long, long last, I speculated, or had my sex ravaged body corrupted my emotionally damaged mind so much that I could imagine this?

Still staring, now unashamedly at him, holding his look I slowly, so slowly crossed me legs. The feeling of the cheap, leather skirt sliding up the net of the stockings seemed so real and surely I didn't imagine the feeling of air on the skin slightly above the tops of the stockings as I stared at him. He was the only one left sitting in that area and I was shielded from the few other customers by the bar and sitting there my skirt now so far up my leg that I was sure he would be able to see the stocking tops. I looked into his eyes again and I saw him standing. He smiled at me and mouthed, "drink?" I shook my head slowly, but smiled as I inclined it to one side towards the door. 

Was I really easing myself off the stool and allowing the leather stick to the seat so that the hem rode up almost to my crotch? Surely I could not really be doing this? Exposing nearly all my legs to a man almost young enough to be my son in a public bar? I dropped my eyes as I stood and taking each side of the skirt in my hands I wiggled it down knowing that my breasts would jiggle beneath my blouse as my body moved. That done I looked at him again and made a meal of struggling into the coat. I knew that the thin straps and neckline and the 'hole' in the dress would all move and that my tits would wobble alarmingly as they fought for their freedom from the ridiculous dress. I knew that would be happen for I'd rehearsed that and the other moves so many times in front of my mirror and I wondered if perhaps I was now really in front of that mirror again and all else was purely imaginary. I also knew that he would get as good a view of my breasts and maybe a nipple as my mirror had several times. But this time after giving the mirror so much to look at I was not going to masturbate as I had so many times with this in mind. This time was I imagining walking over to him, looking down and smiling? Was it in my mind that he stared at me a slight grin on his rather better looking face than I'd thought at first? It surely couldn't be an illusion that I whispered. "Follow me," before turning and walking confidently to the door. And the footsteps I heard on the pavement were so loud and seemed so real that surely they weren't a fantasy were they? 

"Hi," I heard him say exactly as my imaginings had thought he would as he drew alongside me. "May I walk with you?" 

Now that hadn't been in the plan. In the fantasy he didn't speak after the "hi". He said no more and we didn't speak at all. "Is it ok if we talk?" He asked confusing me for I hadn't covered that in my planning. 

I had to quickly develop a contingency plan. Did that mean this had to be real? In the fantasy I controlled everything but now I wasn't so perhaps I really was walking alongside him down Bethnal Green Road towards the narrow street I'd selected. 

"No, you mustn't talk," I said not even looking up at him. 

"Oh right," he replied obviously confused. I said more so that told me that this may well have been real for in the fantasy I had never uttered even one word. 

"You can walk with me. You can follow me, but you mustn't talk to me. OK?"

He didn't speak for a moment so I stopped and turned towards him looking up into his eyes. He must have been well over six feet tall and he looked down at me as we squared up to each other. I held his gaze as I put one hand on my hip pulling the coat open as I did. I knew that the top would be gaping and the hole would be billowing and I saw his eyes go right there. I was now operating completely off script and that somehow added to the fantasy. 

His eyes roamed from my chest to my eyes quite confidently as he asked. "Why not?" 

I smiled running my tongue over my lips as I pondered on my answer. 

"Because," I said smiling and pausing as I stared at him. This hadn't happened in front of the mirror so I was on unsure ground. I moved closer holding the coat open by my hand on my hip. I stood like that now sure he'd be able to make out that I wasn't wearing a bra for my nipples had gone as hard and as pronounced as acorns. The already low neckline had slipped a little and I knew that he would be able to see the swells of both of my breasts as well as the sides and bottom through the hole

He smiled and repeated. "Because? Because what?"

The fantasy was now no help for this hadn't been factored in. Reality has that habit of being stranger than fiction. Somehow summing all my courage and confidence I plunged on into the unchartered waters.

"Because" I said quite firmly. "If you want to fuck me that's the only way you'll get to do it. "

I looked at him as I tilted my head to one side waiting for his response hoping against hope that he wouldn't turn me down and make me go through the whole thing again. 

"You mean if I don't talk to you I can have sex with you?" he asked blushing and looking both very young and oddly appealing.

"Exactly," I replied.

"Er, um, " he stammered. "Is there a charge?"

That made me smile for I had seen that happening in the fantasy. In fact that's how the fantasy had started with me imagining me being a working girl.

"No," I said adding as a joke. "I won't pay you, all I want is for you to stay silent and then you can fuck me. Ok?"

He got the message and nodded which again made me smile as he'd obviously cottoned on.

My imagination or my memory from checking out the streets during my late night sorties took us down the gloomy back streets just behind the very busy main road until we came to the warehouse I'd selected. In the dreaming about this I'd wandered confidently into the big doorway, like a porch really. Inside that it ran for about twenty or thirty feet until on the left there was an alcove tucked away so that if anyone came past the main doorway they wouldn't be able to see into it. With the young man beside me my stride wasn't as jaunty as in the vivid imaginings I'd had about it. No as we walked into the doorway and then into the alcove that had a dim light thrown onto it from inside the warehouse that I knew was deserted at nights, I didn't feel quite the confidence I'd thought I'd have. But I felt excited, expectant and really quite in awe of myself. 

For a woman that had found it almost impossible to have casual sex after her marriage break up for fear of becoming dependent on a man this fantasy had been the perfect alternative. For one that had tried having sex with a number of partners that had wined and dined her until her resistance had weakened to the point she'd let them into her knickers to then find that such sex, sex without an emotional involvement as well, was unsatisfactory, this type sex appeared to be the answer. To have sex where there was absolutely nothing else involved and where she was in control represented to her somewhat mangled mind the logical way. The fantasy had started as the frustration had become so hard to endure. As her body ached for a man. As her need grew to enormous proportions. But she was constrained by this emotional hang up. And that had made her, well me really, start thinking and fantasising. Fantasising so often about some of the more outrageous feelings concerned with sex, feelings and thoughts I'd never had before and would never have thought I would have. Thoughts like being completely demeaned, degraded and debased. Of being treated like a whore, a slag, a slut. Of being mentally and physically mistreated, abused and made to act and feel so wanton, perverse and just plain dirty. Yes I was aware that I had some psychological damage, probably from the break up, but that didn't help. I wanted to be treated like that and in all the many lonely hours I had spent since moving to London for my job and forsaking my marriage so more and more I had started living a fantasy life. But now that was maybe becoming reality for the perimeters of both were fading and where one ended and the other began was all fuzzy.

It was like that, blurry and unclear, as I turned, leaned back against the wall and looked at the boy. He was clearly nervous and unsure. Little did he know that I was just the same but I knew that he wouldn't realise that and it certainly didn't show as I reached up to my shoulders and took the thin straps between my fingers. I eased them one by on off my shoulders and let them dangle down my arms. I saw them widen as he looked, presumably trying to see my breasts that by now were aching to be touched or sucked. They were riveted on my hands as my fingers fumbled with the clasp that was snuggled in my wider cleavage. And I heard him gasp and saw him blink in disbelief as with one quick yank I pulled the dress open and thrust my chest forward a little so that my bare, full breasts leared beckoningly at him. He watched open eyed and open mouthed. 


When Fantasy Becomes Reality Ch. 01



He took me in his arms and went to kiss me but that was taboo and I averted my mouth instead pushing his face down towards the fiery nipples that were pulsating on each breast. His mouth sucked greedily at the extended buds as I felt his erection through his thin trousers. I rubbed it and slid his zip down. Fumbling momentarily with his boxers and the tail of his shirt I felt the sensation of the stranger's bare cock in my hand. I knew that the reality was going to be every bit as satisfying as had been the fantasy, but this time I would be fucked by a hard cock and not a buzzing vibrator.

His hands and mouth were all over my breasts, just as they had been when I lived this moment so many times alone, but then it had been my hands. Then mine had squeezed, almost painfully, the swollen nipples that he now pinched, it was my own that had so gratifyingly squeezed the pliantly sensitive mounds and mine that had pushed them together into one large mound just as he did. 

But it wasn't tender or even energetic foreplay I wanted. That implied a degree of concern for the other, a wish to please and slowly arouse. I didn't want or need that. It wasn't in the fantasy or in my mind as I'd laid on my bed rubbing my body to climax. No this fantasy was about hard, raw, uncomplicated and quick fast sex. A fuck in a dirty doorway. An almost animalsitc coupling where I got exactly what I wanted and that was sexual satisfaction brought about by being treated as and acting like a whore with a complete stranger with whom I didn't even talk.

I undid his belt and pushed his trousers and boxers down parting the tail of his shirt so I could feel and see him. He was quite large, nicely smooth and fairly long but slim and very, very hard. Just as I'd imagined such a young stud should be. I stroked it and rubbed it and then still holding it with one hand I pulled my skirt up with the other. I watched his eyes as the hem slid up my thighs, as it passed the dark band of the stocking tops, as it slid across the patch of white skin that normally separates the tops of stockings from the panties. His eyes widened again though as that patch just went on and on and he realised that there were no panties. The skirt was now bunched around my waist. He would be able to see my pink lips clearly for the baldness of my mound ensured nothing was hidden. I knew they would be glistening with the juices that had flown from me from the moment we'd left the bar. I pulled him closer and fumbled a condom onto his penis as I slid that between my legs. He continued playing with my breasts, that felt about to explode with the pent up agony of sexual frustration, and then with one shove he was in me. The feeling was exactly as the fantasy had said it would be. I grunted as he surged up me and as he started fucking me. It was good, it was exciting, thrilling and satisfying. And then quickly, just as I'd fantasised, he was cumming. I didn't climax. That wasn't really the plan. Orgasm portrayed pleasure and an emotional connection. No, I didn't need that. That would come later when I was alone reliving these moments.

Immediately he'd finished I pulled off him. But I didn't move away and instead I pushed my breasts against his mouth and held his penis sliding the condom off and wiping it with a tissue. He hadn't gone completely soft. There was still some life in it as I stroked and caressed it.

I fell to my knees the cold concrete hurting my knees. I took him into my mouth cradling his rather large sack in my hands as I started to suck his bare cock. It was magical to feel it growing again so soon after exploding into the condom and I knew I was right to have selected a young man. I sucked and chewed, licked and gently bit, stroked and rubbed until, within no more than ten minutes he was wonderfully hard again.

Turning I placed both hands against the wall. I leaned my weight there slowly letting them slip down a little until I knew that my bottom would be sticking out. I opened my legs and he got the message and fucked me strenuously and not totally unskilfully from behind until this time I did climax.

I pushed the skirt down, got the top back in place, did up the clasp between my tits as I'd practised in my room in front of the mirror and slid my coat back on. And then before he had time to realise quite was what happening I was gone.

In my bed that night I relived every moment. Every sensation and feeling. Every touch and every caress. I went through the fantasy in the minutest detail revelling in the sheer sordid debasment I'd experienced trying to work out whether there was any way I could improve on it to gain even more of the perverse pleasure. And of course as I ran the fantasy through my mind so I became aroused again. And as that happened so my hands traced the path my fantasy man's had taken. So my fingers found those sensitive places that his hands and penis had visited and this time I did have an orgasm. A mighty, moaning, groaning and grunting climax that totally and utterly consumed me.

In the fantasy it had been difficult to work out, and certainly impossible to experience, the feelings and the emotional reaction to that sordid episode. In reality I had to go through them. I had to rush from that doorway as I wondered whether he would follow me. I had to hail a cab and slump onto the backseat my body still almost twitching from the last spasms of the, surprising, orgasm. I had to go into my flat and see myself in the wretched outfit that made me look every bit the hooker I'd played. I had to cast that off and expunge the image of the outfit from my mind as I returned from my fantasy sordidness to reality. I had to wonder at what I'd done and try to understand how I'd let reality and fantasy merge into one.

That night I slept surprisingly well. The normal pangs of frustration weren't with me. My body was not aching with its usual desire and want and my mind no longer kept flitting to what it would be like to pick up a stranger and have him fuck me in a doorway. I smiled for I realised I didn't need to fantasise about it any more. I had what I thought were real memories of it to call upon now. And there wasn't any morning after blues. The next morning, the next day and the next few days I didn't feel the guilt and worry that I had even when I'd made "respectable" love to men that had asked me out. No as time passed I became more and more content with what I'd done and I felt no shame or remorse. I'd done it because I wanted to so why worry? I'd had a fantasy that maybe had now become reality and if that happens it can't really be a fantasy, or can it???



When Fantasy Becomes Reality Ch. 02



I was long gone before Randy and the kids got up. I stopped for coffee and a donut before driving the final fifteen miles to work. It had crossed my mind that something could be going on but I had virtually no proof. What was she doing all those nights in New York when I couldn't get her? I know she'd started drinking a lot heavier and reasoned that they were hitting the clubs and hanging one on, or I hoped that was all it was.

Monday night I made dinner, like always, and never saw Randy until late in the evening just before the kids went to bed. She kissed them both and went back into the den. I could have sworn I saw my bedroom door open just after 2:00 A.M. but must have dreamed it, because half asleep I saw no one. 

Like Monday, I was gone before Randy got up. I left a note asking her to tell me who was going to watch the kids while she was in New York. Don't worry, I wrote, the kids and I will be ok. See you or not when you get back.

Carol was making dinner when I got home just after 6:00. The kids were watching a Disney movie in the living room so I went in and gave they each a hug and kiss. I said hi to Carol as I made my way up to my room to change. I kind of expected a note of some kind but after glancing around I just shrugged my shoulders before going downstairs. Grabbing a Corona from the refrigerator I started to set the table.

"Carol, you eating with us tonight?" I asked.

"If you want me to stay I can, but I'm really not that hungry."

"Don't worry about it, the kids and I are pretty self sufficient and can take care of ourselves. If you want to leave, I can finish up for you," I told her walking over to the oven.

"That's ok, the pot roast is almost done anyway," she said shutting the oven door. "Steve, can I ask you a personal question?" she said almost hesitantly.

"Sure sis, what do you want to know?" was my flip reply.

"You two ok? I mean, are you and Randy doing ok?" she asked.

"Why, has she said something?"

"Not in so many words, but she seems pretty down and she doesn't mention you or the kids very often anymore."

"But I'll bet if you asked her about her book, she could tell you line by line what she's written," I said getting a little warm and Carol picked up on it.

"Well, I told her she should back off a bit and take care of business at home, if you're wondering. I think she's got bright lights and dollar signs in her eyes if you ask me."

"Couldn't tell you, because it's been quite a while since I've seen her eyes close up." With that, I'd said enough and called the kids to dinner. Their motor mouths were going a mile a minute before I told them to eat first, talk later.

"If you need an ear I'm only a phone call away," Carol told me walking out as she gave me a big hug.

"I'm fine, it's your sister I'm worried about."

Tuesday night was boring, so boring I flipped on the late night gossip station. You know, the ones that show all the beautiful people in exotic places parading around in some skimpy two-piece trying to look like you and me. 

"I wish I had just half their money," I said to myself finishing the last swallow of my beer.

The show went from Madrid, Spain, to South Beach, Florida and finally to one of the hot nightclubs in New York. I was so glad I'd finished that last swallow because what I saw next would have made me choke on it on the way down. There on the screen was my lovely wife, making lips with some hunk on the dance floor. His hands were on her ass but by the looks of it she didn't care. It was a split second shot because they were panning in on a well-known starlet standing just behind them.

I was stunned. Hell, I was fucking livid but thanks to modern technology I was able to relive that sight ten more times. You see our cable box has a built in TiVo. I was able to record the shot and save it on my cable box. This way, if Randy wanted to see her three seconds of fame she could relive it again. Personally I'd seen enough. I did however call her cell and like always it went right to voicemail, figures.

Did I get any sleep that night, not one fucking bit. I was still awake at 4:15 when I glanced over to look at the bedside clock, still debating with myself how I was going to handle it. At 5:30 I got up, took a shower and went downstairs to make some coffee. I was going to need tons of caffeine to make it through work today so I figured I'd better start now.

At 7:00 her mom came bounding in making sure for once she wasn't late. I told her I had breakfast in the oven for her and the kids. I guess she was thankful that she didn't have to make anything as she opened the oven and looked at the pancakes and sausage patties in there staying warm.

"You must have gotten up early this morning she said fishing. With Randy coming home, you'll probably want a little quiet time; you want me to watch the kids tonight?" she asked. 

"Won't be necessary, because I doubt there will be any quiet time between Randy and I tonight," I said grabbing my lunch. "Thanks for coming over," I said as I walked out the door.

I was tired and ornery as hell all day Wednesday. I chugged down coffee and ripped two vendors who were late with their deliveries. By lunch I'd started to get pissed and by 5:00 I was angry as hell. Luckily the drive home mellowed me out somewhat or I don't know what I would have done. Her mom's car was still in the driveway when I got home so I at least hoped that dinner was started.

She was talking on the phone and watched me as I came through the door. 

"Steve, it's Randy," she said handing me the phone.

"Honey, I missed my flight and the next one isn't until 10:30 tonight. I'm just going to stay an extra night and catch the first flight out tomorrow," she told me.

"Well, you were probably dead tired after spending half the night out dancing, no wonder you missed your damn flight," I answered with a sharp tone in my voice.

"I wasn't out last night, I had a quiet night in my room," was her reply.

"Randy, get a copy of TMZ from last night, watch it and then tell me who you spent a quiet night with," I kind of yelled at her before slamming down the receiver. "That went well don't you think?" I said to Ann. "If you'll excuse me, I need to pack up Randy's shit. It'll take me a couple of hours, just let me know where you'll want me to drop it before I get to your house."

"Steve, take a deep breath. You don't want to do this before you talk to Randy, do you?"

"Ann, I wanted to do it last night at 11:00 when I watched it for the first time. Her lying to me just makes me want to do it that much more. So, like I said, I've got a lot to do tonight and not much time," I told her going out the kitchen door into the garage. 

Four boxes and twenty-two bags later, it was all done. I probably wasn't as careful as I should have been but hell it wasn't my clothes and I did pack her the iron and ironing board. With the kids strapped in and my SUV packed to the ceiling I headed out for Randy's parents' house. The kids thought we were going visiting so they were excited. Randy's mom and dad met me outside. Ann took the kids inside and her dad just stood there waiting until they were safely inside.

"What the hells going on between the two of you? You got a damn burr under your saddle all of a sudden?" 

I could tell he was pissed off but I wasn't backing down.

"Talk to your daughter. I've had it up to here with her shit and I'm not putting up with it any longer. If I can't get my old wife back, I'll let you deal with the new Randy, I'm done."

"You can't believe she would cheat on you do you?" he said in that fatherly you've got to believe me voice.

"Wouldn't have fourteen months ago, but too many thing haven't added up and after seeing what I did on national TV last night, I wouldn't put it past her. So if you don't mind, where can I dump her stuff?"

We put it all in their garage, which took us half the time that it took me to load it. 

"I've got nothing against you and Ann, but I need you to make sure Randy doesn't come to the house tomorrow. I'm not going to change the locks, well not yet anyway, but I need some time to sort this out and she needs to get her story straight. Just tell her no lies this time. Tell her we can get together sometime this weekend and talk, but until then to stay the hell away from me."

He wasn't happy but at least he knew he wasn't going to change my mind. I grabbed my kids and headed out. On the way home I called Carol and told her I needed a big favor. 

"Can you please watch the kids Thursday and Friday?" I asked.

"I thought Randy was coming home tonight?" 

"Long story, but the short of it I need someone to watch the kids."

"Sure no problem Steve, I'll see you tomorrow morning just before 7:00."

"Thanks girl, I owe you one," I said disconnecting. Well, that takes care of the kids, now what the hell do I do?"

I had the kids in bed by 8:30 and told them that mommy wasn't coming home until the weekend. After answering a million more questions I turned off the light and was on my own. I drained the open bottle of wine in the refrigerator and then cracked open a Miller. Why I looked at that five second clip twice more I haven't a clue. Maybe it was to remind myself or justify what I'd done tonight. Whatever the reason our marriage was in deep shit.

Randy's father was there to pick her up at the airport.

"Where's Steve?" she asked.

"He asked me to pick you up," was his only reply.

Randy went on and on about her trip and how well the book as coming along before noticing they were not heading towards her house.

"Dad, you missed my turn."

"No I didn't, we're stopping at the house first," he replied.

"Dad, I told Steve I'd see him as soon as I landed."

"He already knows about it sweetheart," he said as they pulled into the driveway.

Her mother was sitting on the couch pulling on her hands as they walked in. 

"Did you have a nice flight dear?" Ann asked her.

"It was ok, but I'm tired and want to get home and take a long bath," Randy told her mother.

"Doug you didn't tell her did you?" Ann asked her husband.

"Thought it might be best if we did it together." 

"What the hell is going on? Will someone please tell me?"

"I guess there is no easy way of saying this, Steve kicked you out of the house, honey," her mother told her.

'What the hell, he can't do that, it's my damn house to for Christ's sake. And if he thinks he can keep me from my kids he'd better think again, God damn it. Jesus Christ, what a son of a bitch, doing it when I'm out of town," Randy said getting more livid with each sentence. She never expected what came next.

Doug, walking up to a now pissed off Randy and slapped her hard across the face.

Shocked doesn't even come close to the emotion Randy was now experiencing as she rubbed the side of her face.

"Doug!" his wife yelled at him.

"Me, me, me, that's all I've heard out of her mouth since I picked you up at the airport. I didn't allow that language in my house when you lived here, and the rules haven't changed since then."

"Dad, Steve's the one who's lost it but if he thinks I'm going to take this lying down he's got another thing coming," she almost shouted.

Looking at Ann, Doug went to the television and turned it on.

"Randy, come here and sit your ass down, I think you need to see this."

With a click of the remote a replay of TMZ started. Doug fast-forwarded to just before the part he wanted her to see before slowing it to normal speed. When she saw it, her hand went to her mouth. Her father rewound it three times and played it until she told him to stop.

"This is why all your stuff is now in our garage. Steve saw it and went nuts."

"Dad, it's not what it looks like. It was just a friendly kiss."

"Randy, don't talk to me like I'm one of your idiot friends," he said pausing it on the picture of her giving this guy a full mouth kiss. "And anyone with half a brain can see that this wasn't the first time you did a lip lock with him," he said sarcastically. 

"Dad, he's just a friend, that's all."

"Married women in New York may do that with friends, but they sure as hell don't do that here. Your marriage is in the toilet and right now Steve has his hand on the lever. If I were you sweetheart, I'd come up with some good answers for the hard questions he is going to ask you Sunday. And, for the love of God, don't give him that bullshit that it was just a friendly one time kiss."

That's my understanding of what happened that night. Randy tried to call me but I was in no mood to talk to her, I was saving all my questions for Sunday when I would be calmer, I hoped anyway.

The rest of the week was at least normal, or whatever normal now was. Carol, not her mother, took over the duties of watching the kids as they became more and more anxious to see their mother on Sunday.

At breakfast Sunday morning they were wild. 

"What time is mom coming home?" was all they wanted to know.

"Not until you finish your breakfast," I replied. Needless to say their plates were clean within five minutes.

Randy and her mother arrived about 11:30. The kids were all over her kissing and hugging her talking a mile a minute about everything they'd done while she was gone. This went on for about twenty minutes before I told them I needed to talk to mommy and that they would see her after that. Ann took the kids into the backyard and Randy and I sat in the living room.

"I'm so sorry Steve, it was nothing," she opened with.

"On national television, on fucking TMZ no less everyone sees my wife cheating on me. Now I know why you were never in your hotel room when I called. Is he good in bed?" I asked.

"Steve I didn't sleep with him, I've never cheated on you."

"I guess you and I have a different definition of cheating. Having a man, other than your husband, feeling you up at a public club comes under mine even if it isn't covered by yours." 

"How many times do I have to tell you, I did not sleep with him," she said now angry.

"Maybe not this time, but probably next time from what I've seen."

After that exchange, we just sat looking at each other; each not knowing what to say next.

"What do you want Randy? I don't have a clue where you're coming from anymore. Hell, you haven't been a real wife to me in over a year and it looks like everyone else is getting more action than I am."

"Steve, I still love you, but I can't go back to being little Susie homemaker anymore. I've got a new career and I'm loving it. I create stories that people love. I'm making more money than I could ever make as a teacher and I'm meeting a different class of people I never would have here," she said taking my hand and trying to explain where she saw herself.

"Well, at least I know where I stand. I'll get the papers going and file as soon as I can so as not to interrupt your "new life", I told her. "We can split everything fifty-fifty but I'm going to fight you for full custody."

"Steve, you're haven't heard a word I've said. I still love you and I don't want a divorce," she said trying to grab my hand. "But I still want my career. I can probably make close to $200,000.00 this year and we could use that money to pay off the house or set ourselves up a nice nest egg."

"But at what price? I don't know you anymore and when you're physically here, you're shut up in the den. We haven't made love in well over a year and every time we have sex I get the feeling you can't wait for it to be over so you can get back to your damn book. I can't live like that anymore. Let's end this charade of a marriage and you can go back to being a published author and me and the kids can go back to our mundane life."

"I've got another solution," Randy said looking at a note pad. "We have a trial separation, go to counseling and rebuild our marriage."

"A separation, you'd like that. That way you could do what you want with whom you want without any consequences."

"Steve, don't you trust me?" Randy said sitting up straight looking at me.

"Not on your life. Do I think you cheated on me yet? I don't think so, but you must have been close a few times. Do I think you will, definitely, the way we're headed," I told a flabbergasted Randy. "If we do this, it's with a signed written agreement and with an ending date of, say, nine months.

"Steve, it's sounds like I'm signing a damn contract," an indignant Randy shouted at me.

In a way you are, a remarriage contract, because we don't have one now. We can see if there's anything left to salvage and either build on that or just pull the plug; it's either this way or I file next week."

"All right I'll agree, but we both need to come up with conditions and what is and is not acceptable behavior."

"I agree, but I wasn't the one giving it up on national TV."

"I didn't 'give it up' how many times do I have to tell you before you'll believe me?" an agitated Randy said, now standing.

"Will you take a polygraph and answer all my questions?" I asked her.

"In a heart beat if that will lay your fears to rest."

"Then I believe you but we still need conditions," as they both rattled off things to add to their agreement. "Couples' counseling once a week and no sleeping with anyone; let me rephrase that, no sex of any kind outside the two of us," were the two non-negotiable points I told her. It includes anything you wouldn't do right in front of the other.

"You type it up and I'll sign it," she told me. "Other than that is there anything else?"

"Who's going to watch the kids during this time?"

"I'll get a place nearby and between me, my mom, and Carol we'll take care of it. If you want I could move in the spare bedroom," she started to say but I stopped her.

"The kids are going to have a hard enough time with this as it is, and it won't work with me either; you're either totally with me or out of here."

Two days later the agreement was signed, notarized and put in place. My marriage was now based on words written on a ten-page agreement; I didn't hold out much hope of it surviving.

Our first four or five counseling sessions with Dr. Allen were something out of a nightmare. There was a lot of shouting, crying and most of all name- calling and accusations thrown back and forth.

I was a son of a bitch for trying to hold her back, I was jealous of her and that I was insecure and kept accusing her of cheating when there was no proof. 

I did agree that I liked my old life better but I was thrilled by what she'd accomplished. However, she had pulled so far away from the family with her work habits that the kids kept asking if mommy still loved them. That took Randy down a peg or two.

The sex, lovemaking and cheating accusations were thrown both ways. 

"It's tiring chasing after two kids all day. I can't just throw a switch or switch gears when you come home and want to fool around."

"Randy, we haven't made love in over a year and a half and if you're not getting it from me, tell me, where are you getting your needs met?"

"Steve, we sure as hell have fooled around in the last twelve months," she threw back at me.

"Randy, lying in bed naked, with your leg spread and you telling me that if we didn't get it on soon, you were going to sleep; that, my dear, doesn't do much to excite me. I'll bet pretty boy got a whole lot more foreplay than that."

Randy went ballistic on me and Dr. Allen had to settle her down. 

"Steve, that was uncalled for. Why don't we call it quits for this session since we have only five minutes left anyway. I've got an easy homework assignment for the two of you for next week," he said smiling. "I need you to write down ten things you like about each other and the same number why the two should stay married; this should be a no brainier for you two."

That was the hardest assignment I'd ever had. Two years ago it would have been a slam-dunk but now I struggled to get seven items and I think two were basically the same.




When Fantasy Becomes Reality Ch. 02



I think it was that film I'd seen that really started me off on what I came to think of as my "Belles". The old French film I mean with Catherine Deneuve, Belle de Jour." She was an ultra-respectable married woman who wanted more in her life and became a part time prostitute in a brothel. She had no need of the money for her husband was immensely rich and generous and she had everything she wanted apart from illicit sexual thrills. In a way a little like me. With her also there was the psychological side for she too was never quite sure whether it was all in her mind or not.

And that had been me as I went to that bar the first time, dressed like a whore, picked up the young man and fucked him in that warehouse doorway. Until this day I'm not sure whether I really did it or whether it was all some extraordinarily vivid erotic dream in which I acted out the events that had been built up in my mind over the preceding months. Maybe I often wondered some of the pills I occasionally popped or the little coke I sniffed had strange hallucinatory effects on me.

Whatever it was it had been dramatically real and had made me realise that I could have sex in that fashion and that I could get an enormous amount from it. Far more than I could from making love as part of a relationship with someone that I had no emotional tie up to. So of course the other fantasies that had lurked in the deepest recesses of my sexual mind started to move nearer to the front of my consciousness. And always it seemed there was similar thread running through them. Me being degraded. Me being on the face of it abused. But in my way being in control, taking what I wanted and giving none of me apart from sex. It was as 'if I can't enjoy a normal tender relationship for I can't handle the emotional involvement needed for me to have successful sex, then have no emotional involvement at all and just the sex.' Quirky and unusual and probably hard to understand I know, but it's what I felt and was certainly what turned me on. Sex with total strangers who I'd never see again. Sex where I became just an erotic object. An item that gave sex and nothing else. 

I know you may say why not get a fuck buddy as the Americans call it. A man who I could have sex and nothing else with. God I meet so many in my job as a pretty successful M and A Manager in a major investment bank that should be easy. And of course it would be but it wasn't what I wanted. To an extent I'd know them. As well as the current of fucking someone I knew, there'd be a history and some future. They'd know what was going to happen and that wasn't in my fantasy script. No this way was better and was what I chose. Find strangers have sex and leave. No involvement, no strings, no emotions and no aftermath with them.

In my mind I became more sexually daring. Not that picking a guy up in a bar and taking him to a doorway and having sex wasn't daring and possibly dangerous, no I mean with the act itself. I mean with the type of sex and what I wanted to do with who I picked up. Yes I dredged up those fantasies that the women's magazines tell us are perfectly normal and are thought of by most sexually active women at some time or the other. Perfectly normal and thought of by many they may be, but is it normal to feel as though one acts them out to the point that they are as though they've become part of reality?

I visualised myself in a different outfit, something cheaper and more tarty. A black, frilly, lacy, see-through blouse with the buttons all the way up the front. No bra of course and one too many buttons undone. A pelmet of garish, red fake leather of a skirt the hem of which just reached mid-thigh, which is far too high on a near forty-something woman. No need for the long leather coat I had worn last time for it was now early summer so it was replaced by a light denim jacket. Short, but able to be done up when the need would arise later.

I'd ventured further afield. Into North London, Islington. Trendier but with a similar plethora of bars inhabited by young people. Again I'd visited the bars and pubs and clubs in my 'civvies.' That was easy to do for the area wasn't far from the City, where I worked and several nights I had to entertain or be entertained. The research and planning played a big part in the creation of my fantasies. It was exciting being in a bar dressed in a power suit that may well have cost six or seven hundred pounds knowing that if I returned it would be looking very different with completely other aims in mind. It was also incredibly stimulating to poke around in open places searching for the venue where I would do it. Seeing in my mind a doorway, now empty and just a few feet from people passing by where soon I might be writhing on the end of an unknown erection, where I would be bare chested with my skirt around my waist being fucked by a stranger. I imagined doorways, alleys, parks and even graveyards. It excited me to think about and look at places in the cold light of day knowing that they might form part of this amazing fantasy that was more and more taking shape in my mind.

I'd passed up several likely prospects largely because it was still light outside. That might be just a little too much for tonight's adventure. Then I saw him and heard him. Standing just down the bar to me he was chatting to a someone at the bar in an accent, Dutch or German I thought or maybe Swedish, I couldn't tell, but knew that he wasn't Danish like me. He caught my eye across the other guy's shoulder and I saw his piercing blue eyes and sweep of blue hair. He was nicely tanned wearing just a white tee shirt and tight jeans. He looked muscular, very fit and as they say well hung. I looked away and watched him from the corner of my eye. Obviously a regular for he talked to quite a few people and I was beginning to give up hope of being able to see him by himself so I started to think of leaving and go to my secondary bar, see how detailed my planning is?

But then the bar started to clear a bit and I was the only one apart from him sitting at it. He went to the men's room, came back and after chatting to a group walked back to the bar his eyes pinned on my crossed legs all the way across the room. He smiled and went to move along the bar, but I stopped him with a slight shake of my head. He lifted his glass indicating as to whether I'd like another drink. I again shook my head, but as I did so I undid the last stud on the denim jacket letting it fall open. I was getting adept now at longer range, silent pick-ups and was quicker at it than I'd been that first night in Bethnal Green. With his eyes on me I recrossed my legs taking my time letting him see well up my skirt probably even above my stocking tops. I Leaned forward over the bar giving him a good, if rather long distance, view down my top. I could see from the way he was looking that he was interested and had that appearance I'd become used to now. I was he was it.

I slid off the stool letting the cheap skirt get caught on the seat before brushing it down slowly wiggling my boobs and hips as I did. I picked up my mobile and glasses case and put them into my bag. Although I am not comfortable with them I was purposefully wearing contact lenses that evening rather than the glasses I prefer. After all with what I was planning it would be easy for my specs to fall off and be lost or trodden on; a little discomfort was a small price to pay I smiled. I knew he was watching my every move. That done I stood there a moment fumbling in my bag as if getting car keys or something and then looked up quickly and caught him staring at me. He looked flustered but my smile reassured him. He came up to me and said, 

"Can I buy you a drink or something?"

Now used to how to get through the usual pick up routine I looked him up and down feeling pleased that just like last time this one was in his early twenties. It adds something when they are young enough to be the child I have never had. I looked right into his eyes and said.

"No but if you want to fuck me you can."

I saw him visibly gulp. At the same time his eyes widened as he looked straight down my top seeing my full D cup breasts and confirming that they were not in a bra. He seemed to gulp even more as I assumed he saw my nipples had hardened and were clearly making prominent dents in the thin lace.

"How?" was his naturally mumbled reply.

"By keeping your mouth shut and following me to where I go, OK?"

I turned and walked out letting my bottom wiggle and hips sway in the tight plastic skirt just as I'd practiced so often. I waited a moment outside for I knew he had to pay his bill and it took a few moments longer than I'd expected before the door opened and he came out. He saw me immediately and went to come up to me but I shook my head and turned and made off down the road in my high heels knowing that his gaze would be on the undulating cheeks of my bottom and the fishnet of the stockings covering my legs from mid-thigh downwards.

The timing had been perfect for it was now dusk, but not dark as I made my way down Upper Street away from the Angel towards Highbury Corner. I didn't bother to look back but felt him coming alongside me as we got to a less crowded part. He came alongside and went to say something, probably wanting to know my price. Without even really looking at him I said,

"Here's the deal. You can come with me and have sex but you musn't say a word, don't worry it won't cost you a penny. OK?

"Yes, yes sure," he stammered back as I turned off the main road. He was along side me but had got the message and didn't say anything as I turned into the small park. Walking across it I made for the shelter I'd found right in the middle surrounded by gardens on all sides. He followed me inside where despite the gloom there was enough light to see each other as I sat down on the bench and looked up at my quarry. Nice I though, around twenty, maybe a little older he was good looking and appeared to have a great body.

I looked up at him and smiling reached out and undid his belt and slipped his zip undone. My eyes locked onto his as I slipped my hand inside and ran it up and down his erection. 

"God he's big," I thought my heart leaping rather ridiculously at the thought of having a big cock in me. I pulled it out of his boxers and yes it was big. Thick and long it made me shudder at the thought of it going up me and I momentarily wondered if it would hurt. But I knew that by then I would be soaked and that would help a lot. Still holding his gaze I leaned forward and after licking right up and down his length I took him quickly into my mouth. 

In my thinking and fantasising I'd added this variant and as I'd run over it in my mind I'd found it extremely stimulating to be imagining sucking a completely strange cock just minutes after meeting its owner. As I'd thought of that so the man would quickly get to like it and would soon start finding my rhythm and would slowly be moving his hips back and forth at the same time as my head moved. And in that dingy shelter in that dark park that's what was happening. I'd reached round him and was gripping the, at one moment firm and at the next soft, cheeks of his wonderfully pert arse as he started to fuck my mouth. I wasn't ready for that though. Oh no not unprotected. 

But I kept him in there knowing that I was bringing him nearer and nearer to ejaculation. As I felt the extra straining of his erection in my mouth so I slid the top of the blouse off first one and then the other shoulder wiggling my body until it had completely uncovered my breasts. Then just as I knew he was about to cum I whipped my mouth away and holding his pulsating cock in my hand I rubbed it quickly giving it that last impetus that forced his cum to start shooting from him.

I heard a deep grunt, almost a moan and a. "Oh fuck yes, yes you sexy bitch" come from his mouth as he grabbed my head tightly his fingernails digging pleasantly painfully into my scalp. Then his cock was pumping uncontrollably and his warm, sticky cum splattered onto my hand and bare breasts. It just seemed to spew and spew from him in what for a moment, in my fantasizing mind, I thought might be an endless stream. But even young, virile young men can't do that in reality as they might in the unreal and soon it stopped and there was just a small dribble hanging from the tip. Looking into his eyes again as he ran his hands through my hair saying how marvelous it had been, I rubbed the tip of his still surprisingly hard penis over each of my breasts smoothing his goo into the soft flesh that felt so sensitive and alive. 

It was just as I'd imagined in my moments of thinking about this and fantasizing about how it would go. The straining I felt in his cock as it prepared itself to ejaculate, the stream of thick liquid shooting from it, the splash of warm goo on my breasts and the feelings as I rubbed it in with the bulbous head of his engorged cock. There's something so wonderfully dirty and amazingly sordid at having a man cum on your body, especially your tits. I can't quite put my finger on why or what but women do fantasise about it and most, I think, welcome a man emptying themselves on her.

He went to talk but I shook my head and continued running his erection over each breasts concentrating its head on my nipples that were now even more alarmingly hard just as I knew they'd be from when I used my vibrator on my bed visualizing this moment.

Unlike the mainly older men I'd been with since my marriage break down his penis didn't go completely soft, just a little less than it had been. But it was now time to freshen that back to its fullness. I placed it between my breasts and sort of wrapped them around it looking down at the tip that was sticking out from between its soft covering. It was close enough for me to reach with my tongue and as I massaged the sides with my boobs revelling in it sliding in and out of them lubricated with his own cum I licked the very tip several times feeling it twitch and come to life again. Just as the fantasy had indicated I felt the hardness returning, the straining coming back and his hands grabbing my hair and pulling it. 'Fuck he reads me well I thought'. 

I stood up letting the blouse fall away from me, but was still tucked into the waist-band of the skirt. My breasts were completely bare and still splattered with his semen the hard, erect nipples glistening with it as I took his hands and placed them on the full orbs. He rubbed and stroked them making moaning and growling sounds as his fingers explored the soft pliant and such sensitive flesh. As he did that I was, just as I'd planned, holding his cock and rubbing it gently as I coaxed it back to its full readiness.

And then the fantasy took a very different turn. My imagination had created a new dimension. I visualised a completely new element to it. In my mind a totally new event happened.

"Hey is this a private party or can anyone join in?" I heard a man's voice with a heavy accent ask. But it wasn't the man who was caressing my breasts and whose now wonderfully full erection I was holding against the red plastic covering my tummy. No it came from the entrance to the shelter where as I looked up I saw another man. 

The man I was holding turned and said. "Hi Carl, I'm sure you can join in but our lady doesn't want us or her to talk."

At first the fantasy had told me that I would panic. But strangely I didn't. I think it was the first man mentioning not talking that did that. I simply looked at the second man measuring him up and yes he was young, yes he was well built and attractive. And I may well have chosen him had I seen him first in the bar. He was slightly familiar and of course, as in the fantasy, he'd been talking to the first one at some time in the evening.

I watched as he came over to us and standing behind me he put his hands around me and cupped my breasts shoving himself against my bottom. He was already thrillingly hard and I felt his length trying to fit between my cheeks, but of course the cheap, tarty skirt prevented it sinking in. At the same time the first man was pressing his erection against my tummy. The combination of feeling two cocks squashed against me was so exciting that I felt myself losing a little control. Nothing like it had been in the fantasy. I found that I was squirming my crotch, backside and breasts all at the same time against the pleasure giving cocks and hands. And they kept on giving me more and more pleasure. But it wasn't just that it was the thrill of the two strangers and the anticipation of both of them having me that contributed hugely to the unexpected sensations that I hadn't factored into my plan. I knew that this was near rape. I realised that I was going to, no had started, having sex without my agreement. That one man at least was forcing himself on me without my permission. But did that worry me, did it concern me or fill me with dread? No my imagination took that on board and the fantasy building up took on a completely different dimension to that I'd planned. Now I would have the added humiliation of being taken by two men together in tandem, of double the degrading and demeaning. Now, not only was I going to have sordid sex in sordid surroundings but also I had lost control and between them they could force me to do as they wished not as I directed. The fantasy was, as I guess had always been inevitable, going pear shaped.

The fantasy had called for me to pull my skirt up and offer that part of me to one man. Now though I had two pairs of hands yanking at the plastic so that it was bunched around my waist. Now, I was bared by them to their gazes and enquiring hands. Nothing in my imagining had prepared me for this but oddly I didn't struggle for the domination of me by them seemed if anything to arouse me more. They spoke to each other as they pawed my breasts and stroked between my legs saying in German of which I have a smattering of knowledge. "Fuck the whore's not wearing panties." "She's so fucking wet and ready for it."

I realised that the fantasy was falling apart for I was even losing control over the silence, but oddly that too didn't seem to bother me. I found that as their hands slid between my legs I squirmed myself against them pressing the bare, soaked lips and my clit onto their skin drawing every last bit of pleasure from the hard, warm flesh. I found that I pressed my breasts back against their hands that were fondling me wonderfully roughly and were pinching and pulling my nipples deliciously fiercely. And I found that I was moaning and gasping from what they were doing, showing emotions and feelings in a way that had not been scripted nor catered for in the fantasy.

The first one said something that I couldn't understand. I could only pick out one word and that was repeated several times in the same sentence and that was fuck. It thrilled me to hear it amongst what sounded as a load of gibberish. It thrilled and excited me to the extent that completely out of the intended way I heard myself saying, no whining. 

"Yes,yes."

The first man now came behind me and the other stood in front his hands grabbing a bunch of my hair as the other one grasped my hips. The first pulled my head upwards his face descending as he did so that it was so close to mine I could smell the faint traces of his aftershave and the strong odour of beer on his breath. This was not the fantasy I'd imagined for his mouth enveloped mine and he kissed me greedily and roughly immediately shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. At first my immediate reaction was to struggle and I tried to pull away, but his hold on my hair hurt so much I couldn't. As I tried to yank my head back so he pulled harder on my hair making me think that a bunch would come out. I cried out with pain and he said, in English. 




When Fantasy Becomes Reality Ch. 02



"Shut up bitch, keep your fucking mouth shut." 

I gasped at both the pain and the language now half afraid and half even more excited. The other joined in obviously now ignoring the agreement we'd made. 

"Yes keep it shut until we tell you to open it so we can put our cocks in it."

He was now shoving himself against my lips and I knew that he would shortly be in me and I managed to blurt out. "Please wear a condom." It was somewhat of a relief but also quite an embarrassment when he replied. "Of course, I wouldn't put my bare cock up the cunt of a whore without one."

Despite everything that was happening to me in this amazingly real and quite chilling fantasy I stammered, "I'm not a whore, I'm not." It seemed important for me to make the differentiation. "I just want uncomplicated sex."

And then I got it for suddenly the first man, the one that I'd had oral sex with, was in me. He thrust his large cock in me without warning and I grunted as it slid all the way up. 

"Oh yes," I moaned as he started to surge in and out. The other one, still holding me by the hair pushed my face down and down until it was level with his cock that he'd released from his trousers. 

"Suck me, suck me bitch," he ordered pushing it against my face with his other hand. 

And then I got royally fucked from behind by the first man as I sucked and gobbled at the second man's cock. I was now aroused to the point where I was starting to orgasm when suddenly the one behind me pulled out. 

"No, no," I heard myself say, regretting the show of feelings as I did. But it didn't matter for they changed places and I was again sucking the first man's cock as the other entered me. They did that again a few minutes later until I wasn't really sure who was in me and who I was sucking. Everything seemed to combine into one great mass of sensations and feelings as my body exploded with what turned out to be a massive orgasm. I just couldn't stop cumming and cumming. Not when the first one spurted into the condom. Not when the other one took his cock from my mouth and went behind me. Not when the first one pushed his condom covered cock with the load of sperm in the little balloon at the tip into my mouth. Not when the other one shoved himself in me and certainly not when he surged in and out quickly, fiercely and quite aggressively still shooting into his condom.

Circumstances had now so changed my fantasy that it took on a completely different perspective. In that dim, crude shelter in the middle of the park where there was still just enough light to see what was going on I knew that I'd lost control. I had orgasmed, spoken to them and I'd expressed to them that I was receiving pleasure, excitement and even satisfaction. That was never in the original version. As I fell against the man that had just cum into my mouth my arms going round him to support me, so I felt him cup my breasts as the other fondled my legs and tummy. As they did that so I wriggled myself against them. As hands rubbed, squeezed and pinched my nipples, breasts, thighs and bottom so I pressed my face against the bare hairy belly of the man holding me. What the fantasy was now doing was having me make love to them and show affection and desire for them. Gone was the cold, distant woman taking just what she wanted and then vanishing. That had been replaced by a female so engorged on the sexual excitement they were giving her that she was even now indicating she wanted more. And in this new fantasy she did.

Speaking in their native tongue interspersed with phrases in English I heard them say.

"We'll fuck her again."

"Let's take her outside and have her there."

"She's got fantastic tits."

"She's gagging for it."

Without asking for my agreement, they manhandled me out of the shelter onto the grass in front of it. They were holding me tight presumably concerned I would try to get away, but that was furthest from my mind for now my thinking and fantasizing was coinciding with what they so clearly wanted from me. 

The sheer degradation they were putting me through, the degree to what I was being dominated by them and the anticipation of seeing just where this fantasy would take me all combined to give me feelings I'd never before experienced.

They pushed me onto the grass that was damp with dew and laid beside me. They started pawing all over me their hands going to every part of my body as one of them started pulling my skirt. 

"Oh shit I thought they're going to strip me, what if they run off with my clothes?"

"No, no," I gasped. "Please don't," I asked trying to hold onto the skirt as it slithered down my thighs.

"Shut up slag and do as we want or we'll hurt you," one of them said, not realising that I may have liked that! He grabbed my wrists and holding them above my head as the other yanked the skirt further down my legs. And then it was off me and my bare bottom and back came into contact with the grass the blouse still with a couple of buttons done up remaining wrapped around my waist being all that I was wearing other than the fishnet holdups. Still with my hands forcibly held above my head I had one of them kiss me shoving his tongue roughly deep into my mouth while the other chewed far too strongly but appropriately aggressively on my breasts as one of them tore at the blouse doing what had last time been my job of ripping the buttons off. 

The feeling of being naked apart from my holdups in the open dusk was another new experience for me and it was actually very thrilling but still worrying for I had no idea what they might do. But wonderfully I felt and saw that they were both struggling out of their clothes until all three of us were naked. The lay partly on me their mouths and hands travelling all over my body. Squeezing and pinching my breasts, stroking my thighs and plunging between them to invade me they once more, slightly frustratingly but marvellously excitingly, built up those familiar orgasmic feelings in me. I was whimpering, moaning and grunting as fingers roughly slid in me and as teeth bit into my breasts leaving, I was sure, the rough red marks that would be my trophies and reminders of the evening.

It was now such a different fantasy. I had lost all control and had let them take that from me. 

"We're going to fuck you so hard," one snarled pushing probably four fingers up me and hurting me due the suddenness of it as the other sucked my nipple deep into his mouth his teeth digging into the sensitive and quite tender flesh. The pain from both just seemed to merge with the pleasure and excitement and I found myself reaching for their erections. 

Moaning and whimpering from a combination of arousal, pain and fear mixed with anticipation of what was going to happen I stroked the two hard cocks. I caressed them and pumped them and started making love to them. They were mine and I wanted them. Wanted them against me, on me, in me and up me.

And then they fucked me again. They fucked me in turn. First one from behind and then the other from the front. They switched around so I lost all idea of which one was in me and which was against my face or between my tits. They took me up to a near orgasm and held me there for what could have been half an hour. Whether they ejaculated and if it was with a condom I had no idea. Writhing around on the grass one moment lying on my front the next on my back then kneeling or standing bent forward I was continually fucked and unlike I'd imagined the fantasy would be I enjoyed every single moment of it.

I was in a perpetual climax and hadn't realized they'd both withdrawn from me until I opened my eyes and looking up saw them both kneeling beside me. I was holding my breasts and caressing myself so aroused had they made me. We looked at each other as they at the same time took their still hard penises in their hands. They began to rub them, slowly at first but then, as they looked at me squeezing one breast and fingering myself unashamedly between my legs more quickly. As they increased the pace of their pumping movements even more they leaned forward so that they were above my face and breasts. And then it started. The cum shot from both of them almost at the same time and splattered onto my chin and cheeks, into my hair and onto my boobs. That put me over the top and made me cum at the same time.

The fantasy was now complete. 

Most of the things I'd imagined had now taken place and I worried at how vivid it had all been. At how I'd lost the control and had began to feel for them. At how we'd joined together to make it so thrilling and so real.

Was it real? Had those deviant acts taken place? Was I that woman that had encouraged such deeds, such wanton and sordid deeds? Or was it all in my mind? My frustrated and confused mind?

Time will answer that. As time passes so I'll find out, I'll work it out and I'll see whether I need to go back again. Revisit those places and those scenes. Determine for sure whether my search is over or whether it's just beginning.



When Fantasy Becomes Reality Ch. 02



Thursday's session was not what we expected. He collected both of our lists, briefly looked at them and put them in the manila file on his desk. After both of us looking at one another I spoke up.

"Aren't we going to go over them?" I said still puzzled.

"You two want to get back together?" he asked.

Both of us nodded almost at the same time.

"Well then, two months from now we're going to do the same exercise and compare the results. If they are the same, my work is done, and you two can let the lawyers take care of the rest. That put a solemn note on the rest of the session. 

After four months I thought we were making some real progress and I was feeling a lot more comfortable when things took another turn for the worse. I showed up at Thursday's session with a single red rose, Randy's favorite, something like a peace offering but she was a no show.

"Randy called to say something came up and that she couldn't make it today," Dr. Allen told me. "Is that rose for me? How thoughtful," he said trying to diffuse the situation seeing that I was not happy. We went on with the session and talked about how far we'd come and how Randy and I seemed to be making great strides these past three months. Dr. Allen said that he'd see me next week and we said our goodbyes.

Carol seemed a little on edge Thursday and Friday night. Instead of staying for dinner she just put the food on the table and left, which was totally unlike her. 

"Anything wrong, Carol?" I asked her before leaving Friday.

"No, nothings wrong, I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

"Well have a great weekend," I told her kissing her on the cheek. "You and your mom have been a god send helping Randy and I work out our problems. I don't know what I would have done without you two."

Her eyes teared up as she bolted from the door. I watched her get into her car and speed off. 

"I guess she doesn't get compliments very often," I thought to myself.

Sunday night I was channel surfing because there really wasn't anything good on. The normal shows were being pre-empted for this special or that, so I just grabbed a beer and decided to watch one of them.

It was a special fundraiser for something and all the beautiful people were turning out. As the cameras panned from one table to another the beer I was swallowing suddenly went down the wrong way and then up through my nose. There at the table was Randy dressed to kill on the arm of dark haired older man. 

The caption under the picture said producer Tony Arndt and his date Randy Moore. At least now I know why she skipped this weeks session. She needed to get back to New York so she could see Tony boy. 

My eyes were glued to the screen for the next two hours as the camera panned the tables while the audience bid on one thing or another. When my new buddy Tony bid on and won a cruise, the statement he made said it all for me.

"It's for a good cause, and I know just the little lady I'd like to take with me," he said kissing Randy on the cheek.

You know what a forty-eight inch, HD, flat screen television looks like when it comes in contact with a half filled glass beer bottle? Well, let's put it this way, the kids won't be watching cartoons tomorrow morning in the living room.

I got drunk. I got falling down stinking drunk Sunday night. I passed out on the kitchen floor and didn't wake up until Carol shook me Monday morning.

"Steve, you are you all right?" she said helping me to my feet. Glancing at the glass all over the floor in the living room she put her hand to her mouth when she saw the television.

"I didn't like what I saw on the TV last night," was all I said to her. I'll clean up the mess when I get home tonight, just don't let the kids in there," I told her.

"Steve, I'll clean it up don't worry about it," was her reply.

"Carol, I said I'll clean up the fucking mess myself, just leave it alone."

The look on her face said it all. She knew what I'd seen, because she and her parents had been watching the same thing and when Tony made that statement her dad about lost it.

"Jesus Christ, I can only hope no one I know is watching this. Does that daughter of yours have shit for brains or what?"

At work I got out the yellow pages and looked under childcare. I needed a nanny and I needed one fast. Within three hours I had appointments to interview four and figured at least one had work out.

The one I chose was just out of college and was doing her Masters on line. Donna was twenty-three, single, no boyfriend and to me perfect. Donna said that she could start immediately because she really needed the money, so we agreed on Wednesday.

Even though I told her not to, Carol swept up the glass in the living room. The TV was too heavy for her so it was still sitting there when I got home. 

"You feeling better?" she asked. "Yes and no," I told her. "Yes, that I can finally start a new chapter in my life and no, because I'd never thought I'd have to. Carol, tell your mom I won't need either of you to watch the kids any longer. I've hired a nanny and she starts Wednesday. I'm taking off tomorrow to do a few things so you needn't come back. I really appreciate what you did for me and I'm going to miss you, and I know the kids will to."

"Steve, Randy wants you to call her tonight as soon as you got home," she told me. "She says to tell you it's not what it looked like."

"With her it never is, is it Carol?"

She told me again before she left to call but I didn't, what was the point. Tuesday I set up a new bank account and transferred fifty percent of our savings into it. I bought new locks for the house and spent the afternoon putting them in. I made a 'things to do' list and took my kids out to dinner, their favorite, pizza. I told them about Donna taking care of them from now on and left it at that.

Donna showed up early Wednesday and I gave her the run down of the house. I gave her a key and told her under no circumstances was she to let anyone, no matter whom, in the house. I gave her my cell and work numbers and told her I'd call her at lunch.

Wednesday was tough for a number of reasons and I was glad to get finally get home. Donna had cooked a pretty good meal and at 6:30 we were doing the dishes when she finally spoke up.

"A woman named Randy called three times and was surprised when I told her who I was. She left you two long voice messages when I told her that I was instructed not to let anyone into the house."

"Thanks Donna, have a nice evening and I'll see you in the morning," I said walking her to her car.

"I killed both messages without even listening to them. 

Thursday was another shit day. Everyone wanted everything yesterday and production was lagging behind. I didn't get home until almost 6:30 and the kids were wild when I walked in through the door. He hit me, she keeps turning the channel, and all petty bullshit items but like always they needed to be addressed.

Donna made a hot tuna casserole and both kids said they loved it. I told her to go home and I'd take care of the dishes. I slipped her two twenties and told her to fill up her gas tank. 

"Donna, I forgot to include gas in our arrangement. You're going to use over a tank of gas taking the kids to school and picking them up so don't be shy if you need extra money." With a smile she said she appreciated it, gave the kids a hug and headed out.

"Well guys, what do you think of your new nanny?" I asked. 

"She's nice, but we miss Aunt Carol. Is she coming back?"

"Not right now but we'll see her and grandma later," I told them. "Ok, who wants dessert?" quickly ended their question and answer session.

With the kids in bed I turned on my phone. I'd made it a point now to turn it off after I left work. I was in no mood to talk to either Randy or her mother, at least not right now. The first was a request from Randy to call her right away and the other was from Dr. Allen asking me if I planned on coming to the session next Thursday. I killed both messages and called it a night. I was now taking a sleep aide instead of alcohol to fall asleep. If I didn't, I'd just lay there with my mind going a hundred miles per hour in a million different directions so drugs were now a part of my life. I was starting to fall apart.

Randy was sitting on the couch looking at her watch when Dr. Allen came in.

"Looks like Steve isn't coming," he told her. "No matter, there are a few things I'd like to discuss with you alone anyway."

"I know why he's not here, and I've tried to call him a couple of times but he's not taking my calls," she replied.

"I know all about it, but we'll get to that later. I want to regress for a minute if you don't mind," he said taking out his file. "When the two of you first started having problems you worked out some type of agreement didn't you?"

"Yes, we sat down and worked out a schedule for both of us to follow."

"Did it work?" 

"I thought it did, but I guess Steve didn't think so," she replied. "I don't understand he just seemed to get angrier and more distant as the months went on. I thought it was working pretty well. Everything was getting done and I was making all my deadlines."

"Steve was making dinner and taking care of the kids so you could write?"

"Yes."

"Wasn't there something in there about date nights?"

"I guess we were suppose to get together either Friday of Saturday for some alone time," she replied. "And I guess it didn't happen all the time, but stuff just kept getting in the way, I never skipped them intentionally."

"Ok, then how often did you two get together?"

"I don't know, maybe once a month," Randy said and she could see Dr. Allen frown. "Things went nuts for a while. I got writers block and couldn't think. I guess I should have walked away from it for a while, but I'd made commitments and wanted to show them that I could be relied on."

"Ok, now I've got a little test for you," he said looking at his watch. "I need you to tell me the last sentence of your latest story."

Within fifteen seconds Randy told him verbatim exactly what it was.

"Very good, now without thinking, tell me how old your children are?"

Randy thought for a minute or two before answering.

"Abby is five and a half, no, six and a half and Noah is five."

"Interesting, you can remember from memory exactly what you wrote two weeks ago, but you had to think about how old your children are." Randy was going to say something but stopped.

"You like my flower?" he asked as they both looked at the red rose in the tall crystal vase.

"Looking a little wilted doc, but red roses are my favorite," was her reply. "Whenever Steve did something really dumb or we'd had an argument, he would bring me home a single red rose. He didn't have to say a word. I'd take one look at those puppy dog eyes of his and after the kids were down for the night we'd make up; those were the days," she said touching the rose.

"Randy, that's not my rose, it's yours. Steve brought it last week when you weren't here. He told me he thought the two were working it out and that you'd know what the rose meant. He tossed it on the table before he left so I decided to keep it and hold it for you."

Randy was more than a little shaken as she picked it up and brought it up to her nose to smell it. After a week, the scent had all but faded.

"Let's go back to last week shall we? You skipped the session for what reason?" he asked.

"I was asked to attend a charity fund raiser by a friend of mine. It was formal and I needed to find a dress and get my hair done among other things. Since it was in New York, I needed to fly out Thursday in order to get it all done. I did call your receptionist and say I wasn't going to make last week's session."

"That's right you did," he said not taking his eyes off her. "Did Steve know anything about it?"

"I didn't mention it, because I thought he wouldn't understand. Doc, it was a way of networking with the people who make things happen. In this business, it's sometimes not what you do, but who you know."

"And Tony is a friend?"

"Just a friend Doc. We've been out a couple of times for dinner and such when I'm in New York, that's all."

"So you're dating him, is that right?"

"I'm not dating him, he's just a friend. damn it," she said getting irritated.

"Did you tell Steve about Tony or your dinners with him?"

"He wouldn't have understood that he was just a business friend, someone to have dinner with when I was there by myself."

"So you're not sleeping with him then?" Dr. Allen asked a now pissed off Randy.

"Now you sound just like Steve. No, I'm not sleeping with him. It's just dinner and maybe a good night kiss; that's all," she said in loud voice as she now fidgeted on the sofa.

"So when Tony said on national television that he'd like to take you on the cruise with him and kissed you on the cheek, it was just Tony being Tony and joking around."

"Exactly," was her reply.

"Do you think that everyone watching thought the same thing? Your parents, your friends, not to mention your husband?"

"I've tried to explain it to him, but like I said, he's being stubborn and won't take my calls."

Dr Allen glanced at his watch, put his note pad down on the desk and looked at Randy for a minute before speaking.

"How long has it been? How long have you looked at your life through your rose-colored glasses?" 

"Doc, what the heck are you talking about?" a confused Randy replied.

Randy, you see everything that happens around you only in how it affects you. You don't have a clue what's happening at home unless it affects you personally. Did you know your husband over the last few weeks read, for the first time, everything you've written up to this point? He was amazed how good your writing had become. Did you know your daughter wrote a short story and is planning on giving it to you this weekend? She wrote it and your husband corrected it and typed it up for her. She told her class at school she wanted to be a writer just like her mom,"

"That's my girl, a chip off the old block."

"Do you know how she's doing in school? What her grades are?"

"Steve say's she's doing well."

"Steve says? Shouldn't you know without your husband telling you? Hell you had to think about how old your children were when I asked you. It took your husband three seconds to answer that question."

"Well, he's there all the time, that's why he knows exactly what's going on. I wanted to stay at the house but Steve said no. He said if I couldn't be a full time wife he didn't want me there," she said with a sharp tone in her voice.

"So in other words, you were going to show him right? You're going to show him that you could be a big success and make more money than he can. That you've got this wonderful and exciting new life and that a peon like him could never understand why you won't give it up?" he said with a touch of sarcasm. "I notice you aren't wearing your wedding ring. I guess this way you don't have to answer any embarrassing questions about why a married woman is going out on dates but Steve still is wearing his. Randy, everything I see shouts out that you've all ready moved on without Steve and your family. You and your so-called friend humiliated him on national television and now you're wondering why he's mad? Mrs. Moore, I don't think we need to worry about your appointment for next Thursday, because I think you finally pushed Steve over the edge," I told her as she started to cry. "Remember when I told you a couple of months ago, that if you two couldn't come up with ten good reasons to stay together after four months that you'd end up in court? Well, I hate to say it, I think that's exactly where you're going to end up, and I think sooner rather than later."

It took ten minutes for Randy to stop crying enough to where Dr Allen could talk to her. He suggested that she keep next weeks appointment if for no other reason than to help her get her head around what was most likely to happen. 

She went back to her apartment and took a hard look around. Books, two computers, a printer, three manuscripts that she'd just started and that was about it besides all her clothes. No pictures, no personal items, nothing that would give any hint to the fact that she was married and had two children. 

After dinner, at her parent's house, Randy was telling them her tale of woe. Her mom was sympathetic but Carol and her dad were not. 

"You got what you wanted sweetheart, you're a big success; but it also came at a high price. Steve kept telling you how unhappy he was but you were on a mission and wouldn't be deterred. He begged and pleaded but I guess he wasn't as important to you as your fame and notoriety. No court in the country is going to give you custody of the kids," her father told her. "You've been so far out of their life for the last year and a half, they're going to give Steve full custody. Your only hope is that Steve isn't so mad that he uses the kids against you. I don't think he'd do that, but after Sunday I wouldn't be so sure."

"Dad, I don't want a damn divorce. I haven't done anything," Randy screamed.

"That's the problem baby girl, you haven't."

For the tenth time in four days, Randy left a message on my work and personal cell phone, along with my work e-mail. "Don't do anything crazy until we have a chance to talk," was her only message but like all the others I erased them after listening to them.

By Wednesday I had contacted an attorney and was getting all my information together, 401K, pay stubs and what I wanted out of the divorce. The stress and pressure was starting to take its toll on me as I was using more and more drugs just to get a few winks at night. For the sake of my kids I knew I'd have to keep it together. Donna was working out better than I expected and it felt good to have a little female presence in the house for a change.

When I pulled up onto the driveway Randy was waiting in her car for me.

"My key won't fit in the lock and Donna won't let me in the house to see my kids, she shouted at me.

"Hello Randy, nice seeing you again," I said in a pleasant tone. No use getting into it on the driveway where all the neighbors could see. "Donna is just doing what I've asked her to do, you can't be too careful these days. Come on in, the kids will be happy to see you." And they were.

For the next forty-five minutes Noah and Abby were all over their mother. I think they were afraid she was going to only stay for a few minutes so they were going to tell her everything and as fast as they could.

I told Donna to leave and that I'd finish dinner. "Randy, if you want to stay for dinner, we're having pot roast with all the trimming," I told her, as the kids now didn't give Randy a choice as they pulled her to the kitchen table.

The kids were wild until I told them that unless they ate immediately they'd be going right to bed after dinner. They were done in less than ten minutes as they started in again on Randy. I just sat back and said nothing as our eyes just watched one another.

By 8:00 the kids were in bed and Randy was reading them one last story. They asked if they'd see her in the morning but the only thing she said was for them to go to sleep. One more kiss and hug goodnight, and they were down for the count. She found me in the kitchen finishing up the dishes.

"Good kids," she said.

"Great kids," I corrected her.

"Steve, I want to explain about Sunday," she started.

"No need Randy, you can do whatever with whomever you want from now on, I'm done."

"You're giving up on us?" she shot back.

"At about 11:05 Sunday night to be exact," I replied.

"Steve, it was a damn joke, that's all. Tony was giving me a hard time because I wouldn't go out with him, that's all."

"What do you call Sunday night if it wasn't a date?"




When Fantasy Becomes Reality Ch. 02



"I guess I was technically his date for the night, but my main purpose to be there, was to do some networking. My agent said that it was the perfect place to meet the right people so that's why I was there."

"And you didn't tell me ahead of time for what reason? Instead you just let me get blind-sided. Can you imagine the looks I got Monday when I went into work? The people who didn't feel sorry for me thought we had an open marriage and that I didn't care if you went off on a cruise with that asshole."

"I'm sorry Steve, and it seems like I'm saying that every time we meet lately, but it's true. I do love you, it's just that stupid things keep happening to me," she said trying to reach for my hand.

"And none of it's your fault right? Who else are you not dating? Who else is going to come out of the woodwork? Randy, as much as I love you, I'm done. I'm just too tired to fight anymore, you wore me down. I'll make the divorce as painless as possible but I do want the kids and the house. We can split the rest up and don't worry I won't be asking for anything from you, I don't need or want your damn money," I told her.

"You can't divorce me, we have a legal agreement and I'm holding you to it," she shot back. I haven't broke a single condition and I won't let you terminate it."

"Randy, what's the point? You don't want to be married and tied down, at least not to me, and we're just putting off the inevitable," I tried to explain to her.

"Steve, you owe me four more months, and that includes counseling every week. If after four months you want to call it quits, we can go our separate ways and I'll even pay for the divorce. Until that time, we're married for better or worse," she told me. "And, I expect to have my own key to my own house so I can see my kids when I want to," she stood there with her arms crossed.

Reluctantly I gave her a key; I really didn't have a choice after all it was her house too. I told Donna that Randy was allowed full access but to let me know what was going on.

"Steve, I'm glad you came back," Dr. Allen told me the following Thursday.

"Not my choice, I'm fulfilling an agreement I made, that's all," I told him. 

"Well no matter, I'm glad you're here; shall we begin?"

For the next two months we hashed over a lot of the same points we'd talked about for the previous four and a half months. We came to a few agreements but were still a long way from resolving the major issues.

Randy was now stopping over to the house three days during the week and spending at least Saturday or Sunday at the house with the kids. They were in seventh heaven and kept asking her when she was coming home. That turned out to be the million-dollar question.

"Randy, do you see Steve's point about wanting a wife and mother?" Dr. Allen brought up a few weeks later.

"Steve, if I was still working full time as a teacher, how much time would I have for you and the kids?" she asked.

"Nights and weekends like we had before," I replied. "We always had dinner together and then a few hours to ourselves after we put the kids to bed."

"I don't see any difference from what we were doing?"

"Randy, the kids and I ate alone seventy-five percent of the time. The only interaction with the kids was mine and if we went anywhere, your mind was always somewhere else. Maybe you didn't see it, but when I brought it up, you always got mad or short with me. Finally I just gave up and stopped asking you to join us."

"But Steve, my hours aren't 8:00 to 5:00 Monday to Friday. Sometimes they are less, but most of the time it's more than that. It's not like I'm doing the same thing day after day, I'm trying to create something out of my imagination and put in on paper."

"Ok let's say for the moment I understand the concept. Who sets your schedule? You or the publishing company?" I asked.

"I do, what's your point?"

"The point is, you're pushing yourself to put out, what, five books a year? What would happen if you cut it back to three instead of five?" 

"I wouldn't make nearly as much money. I get a ten percent increase for every book after the third one. The fourth one is an extra ten percent and the fifth is twenty and so on," she said explaining it to me.

"All right, what's Noah worth, five thousand, ten? And how about Abby? She has to be worth at least twenty," I said trying to make my point. "Randy, tell me where your priorities lie, because that's what it's all coming down to. If it's your career, more power to you. We'll wish you the best and go on with our lives without you. I'd hate to see you go, but at this point you being a part of this family only when it's convenient for you isn't working."

"Steve, that's not fair," was her reply.

"Life isn't fair Randy. I want a loving wife and the kids need a mother, that's what it all boils down to. If you don't want the job, I'll find someone who does."

"What's that supposed to mean? What is that, some kind of threat?" 

"Randy, I loved being married to you. I miss the closeness, the tenderness and the sharing of my life with that special someone. But it can't be one sided like it is now. You have a choice to make, either you're in it all the way or not at all. You'll always be the kids' mother and I'll never keep them from you, but I can't go on like we have been. So screw the two months we have left on that damn agreement. If you want to take me to court so be it but I'm not waiting any longer." With that I got up and walked out as both Randy and Dr. Allen told me to stop and sit back down.

Thursday night I didn't sleep a wink and by Friday night I was about whipped. The kids went to sleep around 9:00 and I was right with them. They woke me up Saturday morning demanding food. 

"Kids, give me ten minutes and I'll be downstairs," I told them as I threw something on and slowly moved down the stairs. Another long weekend without much to do I thought to myself as I turned the corner and saw Randy sipping on a cup of coffee.

"I saved you a cup," she said as she continued to sip on hers.

I grabbed a cup and sat down next to her.

"Kids are watching cartoons," she said pointing to the two little ones wrapped in a blanket lying on the living room floor.

"What brings you out this early on a Saturday morning?" I asked afraid of what I was about to hear.

"Steve, I'm sorry," is how she started without so much as looking at me.

"That's all right I didn't expect you to give it up, but I hoped anyway," I said standing up and walking towards the stairs.

"I'm sorry, but I guess you're going to be stuck with me full time from now on," she continued as I spun around not believing what I'd heard. 

"Say that again if you don't mind," I asked thinking that my brain hadn't heard correctly what had come out of her mouth.

"I said, you're stuck with me for better or worse, richer or poorer and until death us do part, or something like that," she said now smiling. "So you'd better get cracking and feed us, because we've got a ton of stuff to move today and tomorrow."

I was crazy happy and all I wanted to do is grab her, kiss her and take her upstairs; but that's when my adult brain kicked in and pushed my emotions deep back inside again. 

"Why? Randy why do you want to come back? If it's because you miss us when you're alone in your condo after a night of writing forget it, and stay where you are. Get a cat or dog to keep you company and you can see kids on weekends. I never once said you had to give up your writing, only that there had to be room in your busy life for us also."

"Steve, I wanted it all before and I still want it all. I love my new life but I want my old one also. I know there's a way we can have both."

Six months ago I would have served her papers and gone on with my life. The only thing that was now different was one word. 'We.' 'We' can have both. Before today it was either 'I' or 'me' but now there was 'we', and I figured I owed us all one more chance.

By Saturday night we had about sixty percent moved and were finally done, thanks to her parents help Sunday afternoon.

Saturday evening after the kids were in bed I went looking for Randy. I found her in our bedroom, lying on the bed with a dried-up rose between her breasts. 

"Now, about that rose you never gave me," she said smiling as I ripped off my clothes. "You think I can get a rain check on it?"

Was our marriage perfect after that that weekend? Not on your life, but we did set our priorities, family and then work in that order. Donna is still with us, which saves us both a lot of time, or should I say it gives us time to reconnect in the evenings.

Randy somehow did manage to get four books published last year, and is currently working on a story about a husband who can't seem to get enough sex. Her research is going better than expected and I hope to give her enough material for her next chapter tonight after the kids go to sleep; or maybe two chapters depending on how tired she is.