0 comments/ 217764 views/ 9 favorites Ripped By: BlackSnake Edited by Rozezwild My day ended up being a bust. I was at my studio apartment alone drinking cognac and coke, and listening some hot Jamz trying to keep my spirits high. I ran through all the digits in my cell, and even dug out my old black book. The only girl I in contact with had screaming kids in the background. I cooked my self a fat steak and a potato, and sat at my table like I had company. I even dance with myself, but made sure I stayed away from the windows. I flipped through the TV channels and found a rerun of S Train, which amused me for a second. I was getting stir crazy. I stepped out on my balcony about fifty times. I turned on the projector and shined a slideshow of nude chicks up on the wall. I jumped hearing my cell phone ring. I turned down the music and answered the phone trying not to show how anxious I was. It was my Aunt Nelly. She was coming up with my mother who had too much to drink. I turned off the projector. Hell, I didn't have anything going anyways. My mom was a party hound, but sometimes she ended up drinking too much. My mom was still ready to party, but it was more than my Aunt could handle. My Aunt didn't even wait for me to get my mom in my apartment before she was running back to her car. My mom took off her shoes and turn my stereo up so loud that I had to turn it back down. For a forty-seven year old woman, my mom had some moves. I got my love for music and dancing from her. I made some room and we started popping to the music. She was moving her body in ways that would have gotten any body. She was putting that ass on me too. I had to get back with it. That's just the way it done. She was popping that ass and I was sticking it. I was all up on her as if she was a girl in the club. It was like three songs before she poured her some cognac. A slow song came on and she got right up on my boy. I was like, "Damn!" She looked up at me and kept grinding. I grabbed her ass and dug in. Oh yeah, fucking with our clothes on. A fast song came on and she moved away like it was nothing. I was crossed eyed. I made myself a drink and she turned on the projector flashing naked black women on the wall. She kept dancing looking at the pictures. She bounced over and turned off the lights, and then came back up on me. Some hip hop lyrics make you want to fuck. This was my mom and she was finer than any of the hoes I went out with. She was working me over with that booty up against my pipe. I was like, "Fuck it." She look back over her shoulder at me and smiled. No wonder all my boys wanted to fuck my mom. I went for the "tak'em to the parking lot moves." I reached over touching the inside of her knee and on the next beat I slid my fingers up her inner thigh then around to her ass, while slipping my other hand under her short dress and coochie a pat. I was more surprised by that move. She didn't even have pubic hair over her pussy. She twisted and bumped her crotch to mine before I could make my next move. The tempo changed and she put her soft ass back up against me. I slid one hand to her boob and the other to her pussy. She grind back as I rubbed her wet pussy. I was more intoxicated by her than I was by the cognac. She turned around in my arms when the music changed to a slow song, and kissed me fully on the lips. I mean, deep tongue kissing. All I could think was, "Fuck! Now!" I pulled her tightly little up over her round booty as I walked her back over to my bed. She opened my pants and I only had to step out of them when we got to the bed. She grabbed my dick and pulled me on top of her. We would have been bagging the head board if I had one. I think it was the best pussy I ever had because it was my mother that I was fucking. She was throwing that shit back at me too. I mean, we were grunting and sweating up the sheets. It got even better when she turned around doggie-style. I hit it with everything that I had. Most of it was because I wanted to impress her, the other was just pure lust. I woke to the smell of bacon and eggs the next morning. My mom made up breakfast and was sitting it out on the balcony. I hit my mouthwash, and then gave her a good morning kiss on the cheek. Sometimes my mom would just let things go without talking about them, I thought this was cause for one of those times, and we could let things go back to normal. She sat down and said, "Oooo my pussy is so sore." I laughed out loud, not because she was in pain, but it was the first time that I had ever heard my mother use the word "pussy." "It was the joint!" I said. She said, "Well, don't get too happy. It'll be a week before you can get some more of this." "I can have some more?" I asked. "Well, I want some more too," she said. I didn't have any more problems finding a babe on the weekend, because my mom and I were going out getting ripped. Ripped a New One Cruel2BKind, thanks for proofreading! *** I'm rounding the corner when Monday grabs me. I'm thrown to the ground, and a familiar dread bubbles in my gut as I recognize my assailant. Fuck, I think. It knows. Monday is the jealous type. I'm a total slut for the weekend, though, and just could not say no to a wild night with Friday. And, somehow, the certainty of punishment didn't stop me from making slow, lazy love to Saturday and Sunday. Never has. Guess I might be a masochist, or something. Now I'm going to pay, though. I know it, Monday knows it, and I realize it's the knowing that makes this kind of torture so awful. "Where the fuck were you?" I don't answer. Monday knows where I was. I feel guilty, now, for being such a whore. Sure, Monday abuses me, but I mostly deserve it. I decide I'm definitely a masochist. My pants are yanked down to my ankles, and suddenly, I'm on all fours, ass in the air. I shiver in anticipation of Monday's violent ministrations. It doesn't like that I'm not wearing any underwear. "You fucking slut!" I don't deny it. I consider begging to suck Monday off. Sometimes that works, and I'm left alone if I just swallow enough spunk. No such luck, today. Before I can open my mouth, I hear the crack of a whip. Fuuuck. Not again. I've still got the scars from my last whipping. Monday smacks my ass with a hand, first. It pinches the same cheek and I can tell it's enjoying this. It gets off on punishing me. "Why you always gotta be such a sadistic fuck?" I mutter under my breath. Monday hears me. Oops. "Bitch! Did I say you could talk?" The lashes fall quickly, then, sharp and hot. It's an ugly whip. I grit my teeth and try not to whimper. Showing weakness is pretty much the worst mistake you can make with Monday. Nothing makes Monday so hard as a brutal lashing, so I know I'm in for a good reaming. When the whip is finally tossed aside, I can't suppress a shudder. Monday sees it. "I'm gonna fuck your ass today," it drawls. I can hear the smirk. I fucking hate that spiteful bastard. "Rather you didn't," I say, as casually as I can manage. "Fuck you!" Did I mention Monday has an evil temper? I cringe as I hear it unzipping its fly. Monday's dick is so big, it won't return Spielberg's calls. Monday's dick could fuck Tuesday, if it wanted to. The FDIC won't let Monday's dick fail. Monday starts beating my ass cheeks with its heavy cock. "What the fuck were you thinking?" "I always come back to you," I moan miserably, knowing this argument won't save me. Monday laughs. "Yeah, and fuck if I know why. How stupid are you?" Oh, so now it's my fault. Monday shoves my knees further apart and positions its monster cock at my anus. It teases me for a little while, letting me think I could be spared. I'm not dumb enough to hope, but I know better than to tell Monday this. It rubs the welts on my ass cheeks and whispers obscenities until I'm blushing. Monday's a nasty fucker, but nothing if not creative. Finally, with no warning except an enthusiastic holler, Monday shoves its dick up my ass. No condom, no lube. I clench down around the invader, hoping to snap it off. Wouldn't that make my life. It doesn't work. Instead of breaking, Monday's dick buries its entire, rock hard length painfully inside my rectum. FML. Before I have a chance to adjust, Monday is slamming away, stuffing its thick meat into my bowels at a frightening pace. I tell myself it hurts less if you relax, but it's in my nature to fight back. I can't help it. I wonder why I do keep coming back. I mean, I'm in love with Friday. Really. I'd do anything for Friday, rimming and ATM included. So why Monday? Why do I keep coming back? I don't like the scat play, or its creepy asphyxiation fetish. It's the domination, I suppose. Like I said, I've got a masochistic streak that Friday just can't satisfy, and Monday is the best fucking Dom I ever met. So good, in fact, that I forget how much shit it makes me eat. And that it never heard of a safety word. Monday's making horrible noises, now, smug little squeals as it starts slapping my bruised cheeks with each rocking stroke. "Take it!" it bellows. "Take my fat dick up your tight ass." My asshole is on fire. Monday reads my mind. "Bitch, I hope it burns. You're my bitch, hear? My! Shit! Twat!" What kind of childhood provokes this sort of depravity? With a lurid groan, Monday yanks my pelvis back into its dick and starts pistoning like an M240, spraying my insides with entire magazines of cum. The feel of Monday's hot jizz slurrying my shit finally knocks the fight out of me. I collapse and take it. Monday rapes me twice again that day. Thinking of Friday is the only thing that keeps me going. After the last time, it kicks my pants back towards me and sneers. "Learn any lessons today?" "Yeah," I say, trying to sound sincere. "You sure ripped me a new one, Monday. Won't happen again." Prick. I wonder just how many assholes I'll have by the time I retire. Ripple Effect There is no explicit sex in this story. I wish to thank the people who helped contribute to and edit this story, per their wishes, they remain anonymous. This story is totally fictitious; any resemblance the characters might have to persons living or deceased is purely coincidental. No part of this story may be published at any other site without the express permission of the author. © December 14, 2007 ********** 'FUCK… fuck, fuck, fuck, and double fuck, there goes my afternoon,' Hank thought as he watched the small group come in the door. 'I've just been sitting here minding my own business…. Hell, I'm only on my second beer and she has to show up.' Sarah seemed to be very excited as she clung to the arm of a handsome young man. They appeared to be the center of attention as the sound of her giggling friends filled the room. Hank watched Sarah glance around and knew she was looking for the perfect spot to sit. She used to do that with him. Suddenly Sarah noticed Hank at the end of the bar, and her eyes danced in lively recognition as she waved at him. But Hank only nodded, slid off the bar stool, and turned away. Quickly as it had lit up, her face dropped in embarrassment. Suddenly Hank reached around with one arm and grasped the top of his pants. As he pulled them up tight, he leaned a little sideways while his other hand forced its way into his pocket. 'Damn tight ass jeans,' Hank thought, 'I really should start wearing slacks.' After digging out his money clip, he said, "Ok barkeep, time for me to go." Rick knew something was wrong. Hank never left before finishing his drink. As the bartender checked out the batch of new faces, he spotted Sarah and immediately understood the problem. 'After all, it is a small town,' he thought, 'and everyone does know everyone's business.' "Come on Rick… give me the bad news. How much do I owe ya?" Hank asked. "Put a lid on it," the bartender joked, "it's your fault anyway. Whatever in the world possessed you to order that second beer I'll never know. Have you forgotten how bad I am with numbers? I can calculate the first on my fingers, but after that I have to use my toes. Just be glad you don't have time for a third." Normally Hank would have laughed at the humor, or least at the attempt. But for now, he could only muster a lopsided grin. After being told the amount of his bar tab, he peeled off enough bills to cover the damages plus a couple of extra for a tip. Due to the difference in their ages, Hank had never been close friends with Rick, but had always liked him. He was a good bartender, always hustling, never talking unless spoken to, and had a very pleasant disposition. To show his appreciation, Hank added one more bill to the stack then asked, "Be okay if I take the rest of my beer with me?" "Sorry man… you know the rules. I'm not supposed to let anyone leave the premises with alcoholic beverages. If you got caught, it could cost my license," Rick replied. Since the answer was what Hank had expected, it didn't really upset him. He knew the bartender had more than just himself to worry about. With a sudden twinge of regret, he realized, 'Unlike Rick, I don't have a loving wife waiting at home… with three little ones to feed.' Hank looked at his money roll and thought, 'Hell, it ain't doing me any good just sittin' in my pocket, and they probably need it more.' With that he peeled off three more bills, one for each kid, and laid them on the stack. "Damn it Hank, you don't have to do that. Oh what the fuck, just keep the bottle down and make sure no one sees it. And if you get stopped, remember… you didn't get it here. If I lose my license, you're putting my ass to work, and for a damn good salary," Rick chuckled. Hank couldn't help but notice that Sarah was glancing sideways at him as he strode across the bar and out the front door. ********** The old truck came to a sliding halt in the loose gravel of the 'ole river road.' In his anger, Hank's foot still had the brake pressed hard to the floor. Raising the bottle to his lips, he leaned his head back and finished off the last couple of swallows. Then with one hand holding the empty beer bottle, Hank leaned forward, resting his arms on the steering wheel. As he looked out at the small stream he couldn't help but ponder, 'Why do they call it a river? It's not over three or four feet wide in most places. Other than a few large pools, it's nothing but a small creek.' "Oh well, they didn't bother to ask me," he sarcastically chuckled, "and if it was any of my business, I'm sure they would've. So, then… it's a river, and always will be… no matter how screwed up I think that is." Hank pulled up on the door handle and pushed the truck door open. He could still smell the dust he'd stirred up in his frustration. After easing out of the truck, Hank strolled slowly along the river bank. Occasionally he would pick up a rock with his free hand and throw it into one of the larger pools. The sound of the splash felt real and reminded him of the fact that life went on, in spite of his pain. But as the ripples rolled across the pools, Hank began to realize his real enjoyment was the comfort he derived from watching the water reclaim its calm surface. A large familiar flat rock caught his attention. It was just what he had been looking for and he plopped his butt down. Unconsciously Hank pulled off his hat and laid it on the rock beside him. With his elbows resting on his knees, he leaned his head forward and ran his hand through his hair, rubbing and scratching as it went. Then holding the top of the bottle between the thumb and finger of one hand, he tapped the bottom with his other. After swinging back and forth a couple of times, the bottle came to rest, hanging straight down. 'Just like my life,' Hank thought sarcastically, 'it's been tapped… no, it's been knocked on its ass, turned upside down, and left standing on its head. 'What happened to us?' He wondered. 'All those years, I thought we were in love. Damn it, I know she loved me. Did it just slip away while she was at college? 'Maybe Sarah discovered she loved that new guy more? He looked like a nice enough fellow, not bad looking, and from what I hear, his family is loaded…. No, it wouldn't be… couldn't be the money. She's too special to be that shallow. 'Hell, I would never have even talked to Sarah, let alone fallen in love with her if I had known she could do this to me.' All at once Hank was filled with rage, he needed to break something. Flipping the bottle up, he caught it by the neck and raised it over his head as he reared back. But suddenly Hank pictured kids playing in the pool like he and Sarah used to do. And even though he wanted to shatter it on the rocks that lined the other side, he stopped. The thought of bare feet on broken glass left him feeling embarrassed. 'My anger doesn't give me the right to hurt others.' As the bottle flipped in the air once more, Hank reached out, grabbed it, stood up, and headed back to his truck. Before getting in, he leaned over and dropped it in the backend. ********** Sarah sat in the back porch swing, reading a book. She finally laid it down and smiled recalling her day with her new boyfriend. 'My friends really seem impressed with Fred, and it was fun showing him off. He's so witty, but what's more important, he's very cultured and refined, which fits in perfectly with my future plans. 'But running into Hank was embarrassing. I'm glad he made it easy and left. I don't know what I would have done or said if he had come over. Thank goodness none of my friends mentioned him. That would have been difficult to explain, like everything else since I've started going out with my new boyfriend.' But… Sarah also realized seeing Hank had inflamed emotions she thought were buried. Just at that moment, her dad walked out with a cup of coffee and sat down beside her. She grinned, "Daddy, I wouldn't know what to think if I ever saw you without a cup of coffee in your hand." "Well daughter, I dread the day you do. Because that means either the end of the world has finally arrived… or they're fixin' to put me six foot under," he smiled at her. She slapped him on the arm, "Dang it dad, don't even joke about that. We both know you're going to live forever." "Sure I am, darlin'. Now what's got you so flustered, and don't tell me nothing. I know you too well. You have that look on your face," he cajoled her. "Just wondering… now that you've had time to get to know him, what do you think of Fred?" She asked. Her dad took a deep breath, then said, "Well, he seems like a nice enough fellow. Good breeding from what I can tell. His teeth are white and always look freshly brushed, that's important you know," he joked. "Ahh daddy, be serious, I really want to know what you think." With a deep sigh, he stood and walked to the porch railing. Sitting his coffee cup down, he leaned forward with a hand on each side and gripped the rail tightly. "He's not Hank, baby girl." Sarah rose and stepped up beside him. She laid one hand on his back and squeezed his upper arm with her other. "I know daddy, and I know how much you like Hank… hell, we both love Hank. But my life has changed. Hank is tied here forever. This town is his future, but it's not mine, I've moved on. I have plans for my career and he just wouldn't fit in. "Please daddy, at least give my new beau a chance. He and his family love me. They insist he bring me with him every time he goes home. We fly there in his private plane. His family has connections and they are already planning options for my future. With him I will have a life style that I could never find here, plus unlimited opportunities for my career. Fred is really a nice guy, just give him a chance daddy. I know you'll like him." "So, I gather from what you're sayin'… no matter what happens or what Hank does, he's out of the picture and out of your heart?" "He'll never be out of my heart, daddy, but yes, he's out of my life… forever." "Well it's your decision sugar, whether I agree with it or not. But I promise you, I'll live with it and we'll either reap the wind or pick up the pieces together. After all, you are my daughter and always will be. Now what's that you're reading?" "Oh, it's a copy of a new novel I picked up right before we left. I just wanted something to do in my spare time, but turns out that I can hardly put it down. I hope to catch the author at a book signing. I'd love to get it personally autographed. I'm almost through with it. Want to read it when I'm done?" Her dad chuckled, "Yeah sure. You know me, I'll start reading when books start drinking coffee." They both laughed. ********** That evening, Sarah walked into the kitchen just as her father was filling two cups with coffee. "Whoa dad, I'm not like you. I've already had my limit for the day. Don't bother pouring that second cup, unless you're drinking two at a time now," she laughed. "Go ahead and laugh smartass, it just so happens it's not for you. It's for my guest on the back porch," he grinned as he pushed the screen door open with the back of his shoulder to keep from spilling coffee. Sarah's eyebrows furrowed as she curiously stepped over to see who her dad had cornered on the back porch. 'Probably one of the neighbor ladies trying to gain his favor by putting up with his bull,' she chuckled to herself. Needless to say, she was quite shocked to see Hank sitting in the swing. And knowing her new boyfriend would be back in about an hour, she pushed the screen door open and charged out onto the back porch. With hackles slightly up, she demanded of her dad, "What's he doing here?" Her father calmly replied, "If by 'he,' you mean Hank. Well darlin', I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, it's still my house, and he's my guest." Red faced, Sarah apologized, "I'm sorry daddy. It's just that Hank is the last person I expected to see while I'm here." "It's my fault," Hank interjected between sips of coffee. "I came by to see if your father could do me a favor. I'll be leaving shortly." "What kind of favor," she semi-demanded to know. "Now look here baby girl," her dad testily replied. "If I wanted you butting into my business, I'd ask for your input. But until I do, kindly keep your nose out of my affairs, thank you." Again Sarah was embarrassed, "You're right daddy, I apologize." "No, it's alright," Hank said. "I need a ride to the airport in the morning and was wondering if your dad could give me a lift." "Why are you going to the airport?" she asked. "Girl, will you never learn?" Her father snapped, "You're just like your mother. God rest her soul… she used to be the same way." "No, that's okay," Hank said again as he finished off his coffee. "I have to take care of some business and I'll be gone a few days." "Selling some cows or something, I suppose," Sarah quipped. Not missing the jab, Hank smiled, "Yeah, it's a pretty big deal for me. But, you've got me pegged right. I'm just an ole country boy, and always will be. It's my lot in life, guess I'll just have to live with it." With that, Hank rose and said to her dad, "Thanks for the coffee. I'll see you bright and early in the morning." Then he stepped off the porch and went around the corner of the house, headed for his truck in the front drive. Sarah's dad sat there shaking his head. "What?" She asked, "Did I say something wrong?" "More than you'll ever know," her father replied, then added, "I'd laugh… but it's really not funny." With a typical female huff, Sarah turned and went back into the house. ********** 'What time is it?' Sarah wondered as she looked over at the alarm clock. Then she heard a strange noise, evidently the same one that had awakened her. It sounded like someone was rattling pots and pans. Crawling out of bed, she slipped on her robe and tiptoed to the kitchen. "Should have known," Sarah said out loud as she found her father making coffee. Startled, he inquired, "What the hell you doing up so early, girl?" "Better yet, let me ask you the same thing," she replied with a smile. "Well, I know why I'm up, and so do you. Unless you forgot I was taking Hank to the airport this morning?" he asked. "Oh yeah, but tell you what dad, instead of you, how about letting me pick him up and take him. I really feel that I should talk to him and explain a few things." "That would be just Jim Dandy and fine youngin', but you're about two hours late." With a puzzled expression, Sarah asked, "What do you mean, two hours late?" "I picked Hank up two hours ago. I've already been to the airport and back. That's what I mean," her dad replied. "But dad, it's four o'clock in the morning. There won't be a flight out of that airport for another three hours." "You're correct about that, baby girl, no commercial flights for three more hours." "So he's just sitting at the airport for three or four hours, waiting?" She asked. "Nope," her dad responded, "I promise ya, he's not." "Ok dad, I give up. What's he doing then?" "Ohh, about now… I'd guess he's crossing over the state line headed in a northerly direction… and probably enjoying a fresh cup of coffee." "Is he driving? I thought you took him to the airport?" She puzzled. "I did… and no, he's not driving. Hank is kicked back in a private jet. Hell, he may already be in New York by now." "Daddy, excuse the language, but what the fuck is going on?" "Well Hank did want you to get everything your heart desired, so here," her dad said as he handed Sarah her new novel. Sarah asked, "Daddy, whose private jet was it that picked Hank up?" "Why darlin'… it belongs to his new business associates. They sent it this morning, just in time to fly him to New York City." Confused, she had just been sitting and staring at her novel. "Open it up daughter, then you won't have to ask anymore questions," her dad said with a very sad countenance. With an almost sixth sense, a slightly shaken Sarah seemed to already know before she even opened the cover. As she began to read the hand written message scribbled inside, tears rolled down her cheeks: Sarah, All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and it would seem that your dreams are finally coming true. I was told one thing you don't have is an autographed copy of this novel. Since it's written under my pen name, and today is my inaugural book signing, I felt the least I could do was sign your copy first. I hope that makes it special. As you can see, I am now an author, and always will be. It's my new lot in life, guess I'll just have to live with it. Best regards, Hank ********** A couple of days later, Sarah's father looked up when, with a lot of banging and bumping, the front door flew open. He wondered, 'What the hell?' Suddenly the end of a suitcase appeared, it was obviously being used to brace the door open. Then another appeared with Sarah stuck between them, looking agitated as she squeezed through the doorway with her purse tucked under her arm. "You could have carried them in one at a time, or just hollered. I would have come out and helped," her dad admonished. A flustered looking Sarah stared at him and tried to think of something to say. Instead, she broke down and started bawling her eyes out. Her father bounded out of his chair as she dropped her suitcases and purse. Sobbing, she collapsed into his chest. "There, there now, did your new boyfriend dump you or something?" He asked while hugging her. "No," she replied with a sob, "I dumped him." Shocked, her dad replied, "Baby girl, Hank's gone and I don't think he'll be coming back." With tear filled red eyes, Sarah looked up at her father and said, "Daddy, I know that. But this isn't about Hank, it's about me… and what I've become." Then she started bawling again. Her father squeezed her tighter, "Ok sugar, go ahead and cry. It'll make you feel better. It always did for your mamma, and you do take after her." ********** Later after Sarah woke up from a nap, she joined her dad in the swing on the back porch. He asked her, "Are you ready to talk? Want to tell me what's bugging you and why you're back here with your suitcases in hand?" "First, I need to ask you something, daddy. Was mom as empty headed and crazy as I am?" Her father let lose with a deep, truly amused but loving, non-judgmental laugh. "Darlin', there was nothing empty headed or crazy about your mother… no more than there is with you. But just like you, she had her moments when she was confused and unsure about life. And moments when she could be so pig-headed and stubborn… but she always landed on her feet and going in the right direction. I have no doubt you will too." "Daddy, I don't know. It sure seems like I've made a total mess of everything, including my life. The most painful part, I now realize how much I've hurt the people I love most." Suddenly with tears in her eyes, she added, "And what's worse, I don't know how to fix or make it right." Once more she started sobbing as she leaned over sideways and laid her head in his lap. He just gently and lovingly stroked her hair as he thought, "But you will sweetheart, you will. After all, as I've said, you do take after her, trust me, you will." Ripple Effect When Sarah finally quit crying, she sat back up and attempted to wipe the tears with the back of her hands. Her father handed her a dish towel he'd carried out with his coffee. "Thanks," Sarah said while dabbing at her eyes, "I must look a fright after all this crying." "No," her father interjected, "for some reason, just like your mother, you always look prettier after a good cry." Sarah smiled and with a deep breath, began, "Well I guess now is as good a time as any. Daddy, I broke it off with Fred because it was only fair to end it and let him get on with his life. After last weekend, I realized I don't love him and never will. "I was only using him and his family to get what I… what I thought I wanted out of life. He's really a very nice guy and doesn't deserve to be treated that way." Her eyes started to tear up again and her dad decided he'd better say something fast or else go inside and get a handful of dishtowels. "Well girl, I have a confession to make. All the time you were going with him, you never once used the word 'love' to describe your feelings when talking about or to him. But, I couldn't help noticing that you still do when talking about… Hank." "I know, daddy… and that hurts more than you'll ever know. Hank deserved it even less. I can't take back what I did or the way I treated him, but I'm glad everything is working out for Hank. He deserves all the good things that are happening to him, and more. Isn't it strange how you can feel pain over losing the person you love, but still be happy for and wish them the best?" As fresh tears fell down her face, Sarah once more leaned over and laid her head in her dad's lap. Then she soulfully added, "Now I understand what he wrote in my novel… and I know he meant it. Stroking her hair to comfort her, he smiled with the thought, 'That's one foot on the ground, girl, just one more to go. Then we'll make sure they're aimed in the right direction.' "What about your schoolin'?" Her father asked. "Damn daddy, there's no way I could have gotten back into my studies. I'm just glad I already have my degree and was working on my masters." With a deep sigh, she added, "Don't worry, I'll eventually go back and finish, but for now, I had to take a break. "Dad, I have to find myself again, or none of it will mean a thing. I've somehow gotten lost in the process." "Hmmm," her dad sat reflecting, then said, "I understand. For now, just relax and take it easy, it'll all come back to you. Trust me darlin', it's like that old saying, 'you can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl'," her dad chuckled. "That's boy, daddy, 'can't take the country out of the boy,' ohhh, you know that." They both laughed. ********** "Well girl, what did you do your first day home?" Her father asked when Sarah came through the screen door with a cup of coffee in her hand and joined him in the swing. "Went and got me a job, how's that?" She asked, her face glowing with pride. "I just hope it's legal," her father joked. "Unless they've passed a law against being a third grade teacher, then I think I'm safe," she replied with a laugh. "I stopped by the school to put in my application. Turns out that their third grade teacher is taking a maternity leave, and guess what," she said. "Well let's see if I can figure this out on my own." He paused to scratch his head and pretend to be seriously pondering the situation. All of a sudden, he slapped his knee and said, "I think I've got it. I'll bet they hired you to replace her," he smiled. Jokingly, she retorted, "Damn daddy, you're good." Then in a serious voice, he responded, "No darlin'… you are." She smiled at him. He silently reflected, 'That's the second foot on the ground, youngun. Now all we need is to make sure they're aimed in the right direction before you take that first step.' ********** Leaning on her grocery cart, Sarah stood waiting in line for her turn to checkout. The husband of the young couple in front of her was constantly fidgeting and mumbling little complaints. 'It must be a male thing, they have no patience,' she thought with a grin. His wife on the other hand, had already started unloading their basket while the checker was finishing up with the customer in front of them. Suddenly she stopped and told her husband, "We'd get out of here a lot sooner if you would quit your bitching and help me unload this." Sarah giggled. The wife glanced up at her and said, "His hormones are probably out of whack." Then with a smile added, "Bet your husband is no different." Sarah's smile never left her face, but her eyes floated off to a past memory. Even though Hank had been gone over three months, for some reason she couldn't explain, he suddenly came to mind. "No… I haven't been cursed with that privilege yet, still single." The young wife looked surprised, but just nodded and continued to unload her basket. Not knowing why, Sarah felt somewhat embarrassed and looked away, pretending to be studying the magazine rack. All at once, Sarah moaned very loudly, "Oh God, nooo." "Something wrong?" the husband asked. Now fully embarrassed, Sarah hurriedly replied, "No, just saw someone I know." The young man shrugged his shoulders and went back to helping his wife unload the basket. Sarah couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before, but one of the 'rag mags' as her daddy called them, had a front page picture of Hank. It wasn't seeing the man she'd always loved that upset her, but the very beautiful young woman at his side. She looked to Sarah as though she had the world by the tail, but Sarah also noticed her left hand had a tight grip on Hank's arm. She didn't miss the fact that same hand was also sporting a huge diamond engagement ring. But what sunk her heart was the headlines, 'Hot New Young Author's Beautiful Escort Announces, "Yes, Our Engagement is Official."' The young man watched Sarah's hand start to shake as she reached for a copy of the magazine. ********** As he sat in the swing on the back porch, Sarah's dad thought, 'This is my favorite spot in the whole world.' As he took a sip of coffee, he realized, 'Putting this swing up years ago was the best thing I ever did. Next to marrying Sarah's mom that is… and having Sarah… and buying that new pick-up truck. Oh well, it rates way up there with the rest anyway. 'Speaking of Sarah, I wonder what's gone wrong. She was doing so well. Her spirits were picking up every day. Suddenly she came home from the grocery store about two weeks ago looking like she'd lost her best friend and hasn't bounced back yet. I'm gonna have a talk with her, this moping around just won't get it. If there's to be any hope, she's gotta stay on track.' About that time the screen door slowly opened as Sarah eased out onto the back porch. Without saying a word, she walked over and sat down beside her father. She had a distant look to her face. Her dad decided it was time. "Did you happen to watch the news tonight?" he asked. Without so much as even a change of expression, Sarah replied, "Yes daddy. I saw Hank on the news… and I saw his beautiful new fiancée at his side as always." "His fiancée?" her dad asked. She turned and looked at him, "Daddy, don't play dumb with me. I know you and Hank are close... and that you two stay in constant touch with each other. So don't pretend you don't know about his new fiancée." "Sorry daughter, but this time I'm out of the loop. But tell me, how is it that you know something I don't?" Sarah rose and went into the house. She returned a few minutes later with the magazine. Her dad watched with curiosity as she sat back down beside him and laid the 'rag mag' in his lap, with Hank's picture face up, glaring at him. "Daughter, how many times have I told you not to waste your money on this trash. I swear, you are just like your mother." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she replied, "Daddy, it makes no difference. It's right there in the headlines. And if you don't want to believe it, just look at the size of the diamond on her left hand." Sarah lifted her legs up until her heels were locked on the edge of the swing. She crossed her arms over the top of her knees and laid her head in the natural cradle they formed. Surprised and shocked, her father couldn't believe what he was seeing. He opened the magazine and started reading the article, slowly a smile begin to spread across his face. 'Well to quote pappy's favorite saying, "I'll be a Horne toad's uncle,"' he thought to himself, 'girl, you really are more like your mother than I ever realized. You've got to do more than just look at the pictures.' It was all her dad could do to keep from laughing, but knew that he couldn't save her this time. He realized, 'She has to get over this on her own, otherwise she won't stand a chance.' "Well, what did you think about this when you found out?" Her father asked. She never looked up, "It hurts worse than anything I've ever felt, daddy. And it's still hurting. The most painful part is knowing I did the same thing to Hank. God daddy, why didn't you just shoot me and get me out of everyone's misery?" "Darlin', life goes on. People get over their misery and past their pain. But sometimes, on occasion, the culprit is the cure. Hell, if I had shot you, then some of us might never have gotten over our pain and misery." Suddenly he chuckled, "We may need you around later on so we will have someone to torture. That should make us feel better." She scowled at him, "Daddy, I'm being serious. It's not funny. But Hank seems happy, at least I hope he is. Lord knows he deserves it." Then with a deep sigh, she added, "Don't worry about me daddy. I'm young, and time heals all wounds. Besides, I have a third grade class. The boys, it turns out, all want to marry me. The only problem is the girls, if looks could kill, I'd be dead. I just don't understand," she chuckled. Her dad laughed and thought, 'Well, well, both feet finally on the ground and aimed right. That first step shouldn't be far away. I'll have to see what I can do to make sure it's a big one.' ********** As Sarah sat on the old familiar rock beside her favorite swimming hole, she remembered, 'Hank and I used to sunbath on this very rock. This is where we spent every spare moment we could.' Sarah now found herself coming here often to just savor the pleasant memories. They made her feel comfortable and seemed to refresh her hope for all her tomorrows. Tossing another rock into the pool, she wondered out loud, "Why do I enjoy that so much? It almost feels like a wishing well… with each rock carrying a new wish." "Well Sarah, just what would you be wishing for on a bright sunny day like this?" came a voice from behind her. Startled at first, Sarah started to spin, but before she could turn around, her fear was already being replaced by the comfort that voice recognition brings. And she knew that voice so well. As her eyes locked with Hank's, her heart leapt into her throat. She suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe, her blood was rushing to her head. With a deep breath, she quickly collected her wits and stammered, "Hank… what are you doing here… how did you get here… where did you come from?" "Whoa girl, slow down, one at a time. Out of curiosity, are those wishes or questions?" he chuckled. "You startled me, that's all. No one ever comes up here. By the way, what are you doing here?" she asked. "Well I thought I'd come and check out my new property. I just closed a deal to buy this section," he informed her. Surprised, she asked, "Why would you want to buy this pile of rocks? There's much better land available for farming or grazing," she replied. He smiled, "Now Sarah, what would I do with either of those? I'm not a rancher or farmer. I told you, I'm an author. What I need in my life is a lot more imagination and magic… like your wishing well. So, now that I can afford it, I bought the key to my fantasy, and my dreams." "This waterhole is your fantasy?" she inquired with surprise. "No," he responded with a grin. "This waterhole holds many happy memories of my fantasy. But more importantly, I've heard some very strong rumors that she comes here quite often. So I figured if I owned it, I could just sit and wait for her to show up, then my dreams might come true." Suddenly embarrassed, then angry, a red faced Sarah snapped, "Hank, don't be cruel. Please don't toy with me. I know I hurt you, and you'll never know how sorry I am for that. But I'd never do it again and I ask the same of you. I'm happy for you and your fiancée, I truly am. If I have any pleasure left, it's knowing you will finally get all your dreams. And by the way, she is very beautiful." Looking a little confused, Hank asked, "Did I miss out on something while I was gone? Do you know something I don't? Whatever gave you the idea that I had a fiancée?" "Oh come on Hank, knock it off. I saw the rag mag, I saw you and your fiancée, I saw the engagement ring, and I read the announcement. My god, everyone saw it, it was plastered all over the front." Hank laughed out loud and shook his head. "May I ask what's so damn funny?" her words asked, but her tone demanded. "If you weren't so… as your daddy says, pig headed… Sarah, did you even read the article? Did it ever cross your mind to do more than just look at the picture?" A little confused, she pleaded, "What difference would that have made? The picture and headline said it all." "Well let me explain 'Little Miss Know It All.' The young lady happens to be my assistant, assigned to me by the publishing firm. She is very beautiful, but also very bossy and very punctual. "That's the reason they put her with me. To keep me out of trouble and make sure I was always on time for the daily book signings, not to mention the publicity events almost every night. I'll tell you what, those big cities never sleep. And the people running the show live hard, fast, and high on the hog. "But, if you'd only taken the time to read the article, you would know that her engagement was to the president and owner of the publishing firm. By the way, she happens to love and adore him very much, and… he paid for the ring, not me." "Then… then… that means…," she stammered once more as tears trickled down her cheeks. Hank smiled real big, and before she could finish, replied, "Yes… yes, it does." All of a sudden Hank stepped around the rock, scooped her up, and started towards the pool. "Hank… what the hell are you doing?" Sarah screamed. "I'm going to get rid of that fuckin' bitch, once and for all," Hank said as he waded out into the water. Her eyes looked a little fearful and her voice sounded panicky, "What are you going to do?" "Real simple," he said as he stopped in the waist deep water. "Make sure your ass stays out here until you get tired of feeling sorry for yourself. Once you're past that point, start scrubbing until that 'New Bitch' is gone. When you get down to the 'Old Sarah,' the Sarah we love so much, then we'll talk. With that he gave her a heave and she went screaming into the water. As she plunged below the surface, Hank turned and started for the bank. When he heard her come up out of the water still screeching, he grinned. Suddenly he smiled as she jumped on his back shouting, "Asshole." But it wasn't until her arms were hugging his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist that she pressed her cheek to his. Then his heart melted when she said, "Oh Hank, I love you so much." All at once, his body went perfectly stiff and he threw out his arms like a cross. "We'll see," he said. With that, Hank turned his head sideways, looked deep into her eyes, and said, "Sarah, I think we ought to build the house close enough so that we'll be able watch our kids when they go swimming. "Ohhh, by the way, no matter what happens, just remember one thing, I really do love you." Then he gave her a peck on the lips just before she let out an ear piercing scream as he suddenly lunged upwards and started falling backwards. As they splashed into the water, he only felt two things, the water closing in over his face, and her cheek pressed tightly to his. Sarah only had one thought, 'Hank, I'll never let go of you again.' ************* ************* ************ ************* Please take time to vote. A huge amount of time is devoted to writing a story, good, bad, or indifferent. Your direct feedback, especially direct comments helps writers to become better and more focused, which in turn gives you, the reader, a better product. Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Ripples in a Cuckolds Pond Please Read!! I've started a new series with Nick and Nicole. This series will feature, creampies, chastity belt usage, lesbian encounters, dom/sub situations and of course, lots of messy sex (the best kind). I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read this series. I especially want to thank those of you who have emailed me or provided feedback. I really do appreciate it and I hope you enjoy this new direction. Troll Alert: If you don't like cuckold/hotwife stories you won't like this one. Save your energy, righteous indignation, and your ugly comments for another story. The resort was private, exclusive, beyond expensive, and nestled in the Texas Hill Country. The awards ceremony, and after-parties, were going to be swanky affairs to say the least. I'd been to functions like this one before, but tonight was......complicated. For now, I'll just say I was arriving solo, stag, sans partner. My wife? Well she was attending to night as well, but she was attending with her new boyfriend. The guest of honor. Tonight, she'd be on his arm, his date, his girlfriend, and their new relationship in full display of the crowd. "Welcome to the resort, sir. Are you valeting your car tonight?" The valet's eyes traveled along the fully, and meticulously restored 1969 Mustang. A small smile of satisfaction, and anticipation crossed his face. It was obvious he was seriously hoping I would valet it, and he'd get the opportunity to sit behind the wheel. "Yes," I sighed quietly, and nodded my head. "Please take care of her. She's my baby." The keys stayed in the ignition, and I slid out of the car. The valet receipt was stuffed into my hand. I wasn't actually pushed out of the way, although he definitely made it clear I was standing in between him, and the opportunity to drive a sweet, classic muscle car. Don't roll your eyes, but I did stay to watch him drive it away. What can I say? It's one of my most prized possessions. I hated to see someone else behind the wheel. Once he was out of sight, I made my way inside. The entire resort had been reserved for this event, so there were no tourists, unruly kids, or other family accoutrements. Instead, the lobby, the bar, and just about every open spot was occupied by tuxedoed men, and women dressed in unbelievably beautiful dresses. Hollywood red carpet was laid out, but in Texas, and without all the douchebags that seemed to inhabit the land of fruits and nuts. "May I see your invitation, sir?" I jerked my attention to the guy standing in front of me. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and a calm, but sharp expression on his face. Obviously athletic from the cut of his tuxedo. The slight bulge under his left armpit, and the discreet earpiece marked him as security. Professional, high-quality security. As I sized him up, he did the same thing to me. I knew what he saw. Civilian, most-likely a guy who sits behind a desk for a living. That's true. Works out, but not religiously. Also true. Doesn't fit any threat profile. Thank goodness. I reached inside my tuxedo for my invitation and watched his eyes narrow slightly. He'd dismissed me as a threat, but that didn't mean he dropped his guard. I handed him my invitation, and my driver's license. My concealed carry license was kept inside my wallet, out of sight. He wasn't a cop, and I wasn't carrying tonight anyway. "Have a good time tonight, sir." He handed me an envelope. "The guest of honor asked that I give this to you. Thank you for your patience." "You're welcome." The envelope held two room keys, and my room number. I'm not sure why I needed two room keys, but I didn't think anything of it. There was a slip of paper in the envelope as well, but I figured it was a welcome note from the resort. I folded the envelope, slid it into my pocket, and looked around a little. Obviously, some VIP's were in attendance tonight. I didn't see any celebrities standing around. Although there were lots of pretty people. Now, where is the bar? The bar was busy. Mostly filled with couples, I figured I stood a pretty good chance finding an empty chair at the bar. I was right. "Laphroaig on the rocks, please." "We just got a case of 18 year old Laphroaig in stock, would you like to try it?" "Hell, yes. I'd love a glass. On the rocks, please." The bartender nodded in approval, and stepped away to prepare my drink. I have a suspicion about bartenders. They love simple drinks, and the people who order them. The complicated umbrella drinks have to piss them off. Cosmo's, fruity concoctions, and whatever-tini's, had to be embarrassing to make, in my opinion. At any rate, every time I ordered a whiskey on the rocks, I always got a satisfied nod from the barkeep. A group of guys, who managed to get separated from their dates, wives or significant others, crowded up to the bar next to me. They were my age, mid-40's, wealthy like everyone else, but out of shape. Most of them were tempting fate, and risking other people's lives, by stretching their cummerbunds to the absolute maximum. It was even odds that someone might get killed if they snapped suddenly. A mixed bag, some were white, a few Hispanic, and several were black. All professionals, all successful, and each one comfortable with their obvious wealth and success. "Did you see David?" The question came from the guy farthest from the bar. A white dude, tall, and the only thin one in the bunch. Not from exercising, it was a DNA gift. "David?" Another guy snorted. "Who gives a shit about David? Did you see his date?" Low whistles, nods of appreciation, and lusty chuckles filled the group. They ordered beers, by the way, so I immediately stuck them in the lightweight category. It was only one step above the douchebag category. My scotch arrived at the same time as their beers, but they paid me no attention. I passed the bartender a $100, and nodded my thanks. Yes, eighteen year old scotch is that expensive. I also wanted to tip him generously, so I'd get better service as the night drug on. "How the hell did he land that?" "I don't know, but holy shit, is she gorgeous." "Hot." "Sexy." "I wonder if she's for rent by the hour, or if he got a discount for the entire night?" The last question was half-serious. More serious than required for a joke. The entire group laughed heartily. It was the kind of question that reflected what they were all thinking. They'd be damn happy to pay for her company. Of course, there's always that one guy who takes it too far. "Discount?" His voice was slightly slurred already. "I'd happily pay her full rate for a month. Load up on Cialis, and hide her fucking clothes." The one guy who hadn't laughed so far finally joined the conversation. "She's not a pro, guys. David doesn't have to pay for it." "We know," one of the guys replied dismissively. "We're just kidding. Damn, it's a party, lighten up." "Hey, I'm just telling you, she's good people, and David's serious about her." That sobered up the conversation. Several guys exchanged glances, and shook their heads sadly. Apparently several of the guys openly wished David's date tonight was a prostitute, and they were disappointed to hear otherwise. "How long have they been seeing each other?" The bartender had been waiting for the guys to finish their conversation, and pay him so he could attend to the other customers. Before anyone answered the question, one of the guys passed over some bills, and they all walked off. "One month," I answered the question, even though they'd already left. "They've been seeing each other for one month." I studied the amber colored liquid in my glass. There was a solid globe of ice, clinking softly against the side of the glass. I savored the delicious smell of the aged liquor, and seriously enjoyed the strong peaty flavor of the 'water of life'. "It's going to be a long night," I murmured under my breath. "Well, at least the Scotch is good." How did I know how long David and his date had been dating? How did I know what woman they were talking about, even though I hadn't seen her tonight? Y'know, the woman they were drooling over, and secretly hoping was a prostitute. Simple. David was the guest of honor. My wife was his date...and his girlfriend. Like I said at the beginning. It's complicated. Stick with me, and I'll catch you up. *** Dinner was supposed to be about estate planning. I'd seriously thought about cancelling, but my wife Nicole insisted we attend. She wanted to hear what David had to say. We were both from humble beginnings. Yes, I mean we'd both been raised poor. So one of the things Nicole worried about most was money. Truthfully, she didn't really worry, because we had more money than we'd ever dreamed. Instead, her attention had shifted to making sure we didn't lose it, and passed as much as possible onto our girls. Hence, the estate planning dinner. It was still a little odd that she wanted to participate. Normally, she let me handle the money. For some reason though, she wanted to be at this dinner, and speak with David. David was our attorney, but he was also a very good friend of our business partner, Collin. Collin and I owned a financial planning company in San Antonio, and we did very well. I handled the insurance side of the house, Collin managed our client's money, and we'd just brought on a new partner to handle the real estate side of our business. Cynthia, our new partner, was killing it. Her side of the company was the fastest growing, but mine brought in the most revenue. It was a minor little point I mentioned whenever her head grew too big. Our company was as much a family, as it was a business. All of us were close, and my wife was currently working in Cynthia's division. It wasn't permanent, just until Cynthia could hire more staff. The fact that Nicole and Cynthia were at least part-time lovers made the arrangement very cozy. Cynthia was actually the second partner, my wife had slept with...repeatedly. Collin was the first. Like I said...complex. You may be scratching your head at this point. It's also possible you could be nodding your head in anticipation. Either way, I should clarify the situation. See, I'm a Cuckold. A what? A Cuckold. It's a loaded term, with a lot of levels, variations and flavors. Essentially it means my wife see's other people, fucks other people...with my consent. Hell, with my eager approval in some cases. Cuckold. It's an awkward word to say, I know. There are irritating purists out there (aren't there always), who will insist the term is used incorrectly. They are the arbiters of the English language. Smug. Arrogant. They point to other words, that no one has ever heard of, understands, or even cares about, and viciously battle to ensure their terminology is correct. A pyrrhic victory, I think, at best. Pay them no mind. The term in common usage is Cuckold. A husband, whose wife fucks other men, women, or some combination of the two. It describes me. It didn't always, but after a lot of talk, and even more angst I've accepted it. Which brings me to David. He isn't a member of our company, he's our firm's attorney. He's also Nicole, and I's personal attorney, if we ever need him. A stellar attorney. His background is unique, and he's worked in a lot of different areas. A former military officer/attorney, he's also worked as a U.S Attorney under two presidents. He has consulted with Fortune 500 clients, and worked with the ACLU. He has contacts in and out of government that could probably get him elected president. An intelligent, passionate guy, he's exactly Nicole's type. My wife is also seriously attracted to him. No. That's not exactly correct. Nicole and David are attracted to each other. It's completely mutual. Nicole (Nikki to me and to her lovers) met David through Collin. They were instantly attracted to each other, but since she was seeing Collin at the time, nothing ever came of it. After Collin and Nicole ended their relationship (amicably), Nicole and Cynthia became an item. A hot item. My wife is fully bi-sexual, but it was touch and go there for a while. I was half-convinced at one point, that she would announce she was a lesbian, and leave me for Cynthia. Fortunately, that didn't happen. Nicole helped recruit Cynthia into our company and they are still part-time lovers. Cynthia is looking for a long-term partner, and depending upon the Supreme Court, maybe a full-fledged wife. In the meantime, she isn't willing to give up getting naked with Nicole. I don't blame her. They see each other a few times a week, and I'm pretty sure they've christened Cynthia's office on more than one occasion. It'll end between them eventually, and they both recognize that, but they're having fun until their relationship runs its course. David is one of the reasons Nicole and Cynthia aren't exclusive. Nicole confessed to Cynthia that she would always be attracted to men, and David in particular. It wasn't easy for Cynthia, but she understands, especially since Nicole also wants another baby. Which is something her best friend and lover can't provide. Neither can I, by the way, but I'll get to that down the road. It's probably no surprise to you by now, but Nicole is a stunner. I married way above my weight class. Most people describe her as a mix between Sofia Vergara, Penelope Cruz, and Selma Hayek. Her age? Yeah, I'm not stupid enough to actually divulge her age. I know it, but trust me, she looks like she's in her late 20's, early 30's. I'm in my mid-forties, in case you cared. Bottom line? She's gorgeous, petite, curvy, and she has natural breasts that could keep her afloat in the roughest waters. Now that she quit working full-time, she exercises daily at the gym, and her body belongs on a magazine cover. Flat stomach, perfectly round, firm ass, and shapely legs. Believe me when I tell you, I get her naked as often as possible. Yes, we have an active sex life. I work out daily as well, weights, cardio, and mixed-martial arts. I'm average height, blonde hair, green eyes, and cursed with a sarcastic sense of humor. As I mentioned, I'm in my mid-forties, but I still manage my share of attention. We just built a new home, but stayed in the same school district. Our two daughters absolutely refused to leave their friends, so we found some acreage within the district. Nikki insisted on throwing a housewarming party when it was finished, and we invited David. He spent most of the night talking with Nicole, but he and I got some time to talk as well. Just before he left that night, he invited us to dinner to discuss estate planning. What was I going to say? No? Yeah right, with Nicole standing right there, giving me the 'just agree' look. Anyway, the discussion we had at our 'estate planning dinner' was....interesting. Keep reading, you'll see. *** We walked into the restaurant together. Nikki slid her arm inside mine, which I loved, and walked next to me. We saw our host almost immediately. I'm terrible with ages, but I'd guess David is in his early fifties, maybe late forties. When I first met him, he was in good shape, but he obviously started some sort of exercise program, because he was in great shape. The easiest way to describe him is by analogy. He's a spitting image of Idris Elba, the actor....who is freakin' amazing by the way. Think of an older brother to Idris, and you have a really good picture of David. "How are you, David?" "Great, Nick. Thanks for coming." David and I shook hands, and I made way for my wife. He greeted her with a soft kiss on the cheek, before he took her hand, and escorted her to her chair. A smooth gentleman, he held the chair out for her. We'd decided to have dinner at Collin's restaurant. A high-end steakhouse, it was quiet, intimate, and the food was fantastic. He'd reserved a private room for our discussion, and our table sat near a window. The view of the surrounding countryside was excellent. "You look incredible tonight, Nicole," he said first. A warm, happy smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, David. You don't look so bad yourself." He inclined his head toward her. "Any trouble getting here?" I took that question. "None. This place is in a great location, and traffic really isn't a problem." "Excellent." She put her hand on his arm. "How have you been?" "Great," he replied with an easy smile. "My firm is flourishing really, and I've had to hire some new attorneys." David and I sat across the table from one another, with Nicole in the middle. I couldn't be sure, but it sure seemed like they were already leaning towards each other as they spoke. I watched the body language between them, and almost immediately lost track of the conversation. She'd taken her hand off his arm, but she was still focused entirely on him. An interested smile was pasted on her face, as he spoke about his firm, or whatever. I knew the look in her eye. She was into him, I mean seriously into him. She had a weakness for black man, specifically successful, articulate, and passionate black men. He was clearly hitting all of her buttons. "So I'm able to take more time for myself now." His voice penetrated by brain, and drug my attention back to the table. "I'm playing more golf, although I'm not in Nick's class, and I can work a normal schedule." "That's great," she replied. "Yeah, I'm in a great spot right now." The conversation lulled for a second, and the both of them seemed to realize I was still at the table. He cleared his throat, and my wife straightened slightly. "Why don't we order some drinks? I took the liberty of ordering an appetizer for us. It's new, and I thought we could share it." "Sounds good," I said. No one's perfect, and that definitely applied to David. It turns out he's a...beer drinker. I know right? Well, I guess everyone has their imperfections. Our drinks came, and the appetizer was pretty damn tasty. I resigned myself to more time in the gym for the foreseeable future, because there was nothing healthy about the appetizer. We also ordered dinner, and David got down to business. "Guys, I consulted with your accountant, and truthfully, you're in great shape." He handed me a folder. "I've put together some options for you. They're all straightforward, and they'll help ensure your estate is protected. You already have an appropriate amount of life insurance, and you have a business transition plan in place. The only areas I think we need to spend time on are, long-term care, your wills, and establishing trusts for your daughters." "That's all?" Nicole asked. "Yep. Your company is doing great. Collin's financial advice has helped your personal finances grow significantly, so all that's left is for you to enjoy your success, protect your estate, and plan for the future." "Wow," she said quietly. As Nicole and David were talking, I had opened the folder and reviewed his suggestions. I'm more of an insurance guy, than a financial or legal guy, but I knew enough to be dangerous. I'd also done my own research, so I wasn't totally lost in the weeds. His recommendations were safe, conservative and I knew they were appropriate for our situation. I closed the folder, and set it on the table. "I'm comfortable with what you've outlined. What's the next step?" "I'll draw up some paperwork, show it to your accountant, and we'll meet again in about a week. You can sign everything, and my firm will handle the rest." A happy, slightly relieved smile crossed my wife's face. "That was easy."