156 comments/ 397938 views/ 124 favorites 52 Pick-Up By: juanwildone The Shuffle Last night I treated my wife like a queen. We've been going through a rough patch lately and this seemed the time to set things right. I'd taken the day off from work, ostensively to take our two kids (one of each; Jack fourteen, Chayna twelve) to a weeklong soccer camp, but mostly to make sure everything was perfect. I began by sending two-dozen long stem red roses to Melinda at her work. I wrote the note myself: Roses are red My love for you true My plans for tonight Will make it clearer to you Dinner's on me Dessert is just you Seconds and thirds I guarantee you Yeah, I know, not exactly Shakespeare but I figured it would do the trick. I was right, but you knew that. I got a very passionate kiss at the front door plus a report on how jealous her co-workers were. Melinda fixed me with a lusty gaze, "Lucky doesn't being to describe the night you're going to have." I took charge immediately and corrected her – "this night is all about you." Step two was to draw my love a steamy bubble bath, complete with a glass of perfectly chilled Chardonnay. I told her to take her time while I got dinner ready. Not that I was cooking, I simply drove to her favorite Italian place and picked up dinner for two. I popped it into the oven upon my return. I'd just finished setting the table when I heard Melinda behind me. "You are a naughty, naughty boy." I turned to see a vision in red. Melinda was wearing everything I'd bought today; the peignoir, the bra and panties set, the garter/stockings and the shoes – the red stiletto's the screamed "fuck me." She had no idea just how naughty I planned on being. Dinner and lots of wine later I lead her to our bedroom. She followed willingly as I slowly undressed her along the way. Laying her on the bed I rained kisses all over her body. I sucked her nipples until they were swollen, red and erect. I nibbled that certain spot at the base her neck that had her squirming beneath me. Basically I tortured her with foreplay; constantly moving around her body as soon as she got really into whatever I was doing. She started pushing my head towards her cunt. With deliberate slowness I licked my way down. I sucked and tugged at her labia. I even rimmed her teasingly, not really licking her ass so much as just getting real close. She started mewing as I did it – that was interesting. "You like me kissing your ass do you?" "You have no idea." It was more a growl than anything else. She cried out when I finally connected with her clit. I was the proverbial man with a plan as I deliberately and very softly licked her clit using the alphabet, first lower case and then upper. With the alphabet completed I started on prime numbers only to have Melinda beg me to make her cum. I obliged by sucking her clit between my licks and flicking my tongue over it rapidly. She came with a screeching yowl of delight. I released her clit just as her hand was moving in to push me away (she gets super sensitive down there when I tease her before pleasing her.) I climbed up between her thighs and pressed my cock against the slit of her cunt – and I didn't move. Melinda went a little crazy at that point. "Inside! I need you inside me. Fuck me, put it in me – now!" I put it in her all right; I thrust my hips forward as hard and as fast as I could. She grunted when I hit bottom. Then I pulled out of her as slowly as I possibly could. Fast, hard and deep followed by slow, slow withdrawal. Every time I started pulling out she was lifting her hips toward mine as fast as she could trying to control the pace and contact until she was exhausted from her effort. I fucked her through a second and then third cum before we screamed our simultaneous orgasms. We rested for a few minutes, saying those words that lovers say. Actually I was doing most of the talking, she was somewhat incoherent. I told her again and again how much I loved her. Then I went down on her again – this time adding a finger then two. I started rimming her ass with my tongue exerting more and more pressure. Melinda moaned as her head was turning side to side, begging me for another fucking as I actually fucked her ass with my tongue. I rose up between her thighs, hooked her heels on my shoulders and pushed my cock down until it centered in her little brown rosebud. I told her I was going to fuck her ass. Her face was a masque of conflicting emotions. She wanted me in her again – just not exactly where I was planning on going. We had done anal a couple of times, usually when she was fall down drunk. She wasn't close to that. We both knew I wasn't going to force her, but it was clear that I was intending to press the issue – so to speak. I played my trump card (I can't tell you how tempted I was to call it "my hole card.") "Forgive me for being such an asshole these last couple of weeks?" Her answer was a pushing of her ass against my cock and just like that – I was in. She whimpered at first. Once she got used to it she got into it. I kept a steady pace as I diddled haphazardly with her clit. She seemed to be enjoying the butt-fucking; doing that teeth sucking inhale, open mouth exhale thing. I let my own orgasm build without letting her know. I suppose she was curious when my thrusting became an arrhythmic bucking. My strangled cry of orgasm certainly clued her in. I spent myself in her. I was a very satisfying orgasm. She figured out what was happening and increased her own thrusting to go over the top. I let her movement push me out of her. I staggered back and sat down on the floor. I couldn't help smiling when I saw her hand dive between her thighs as she masturbated to her final orgasm. I crawled into bed next to her and fell immediately asleep. I slept very soundly. Awaking early the next morning, I showered, and was out the door before she knew it. I left a note reminding her that I would have to work late to make up for taking the day before off. Oh I definitely had my work cut out for me today. Today - I, Timothy Allan Pick, am sitting in ambush for a slut. I checked my watch – any minute now. The slut would be my wife of sixteen years, Melinda; the aforementioned queen of last nights amorous activities. Melinda's been cheating on me for, well as near as I can determine, the better part of a year. I've been sure for the last month, suspicious for two before that. My suspicions were based on the little things that flow back and forth between couples; the behaviors, the habits, and most importantly the easy evasions that hint something's not quite right here. For instance, there were lots of little things that by themselves were all innocently explained. Things like our sex life being way down while Melinda dressing sexy was way up. She was feeling it – I sure as hell wasn't getting it. I know I know that's not much to go on. One of the primary instances that caught my attention and coalesced my observations into suspicions was a night out - without the kids. Melinda met me at the restaurant having come directly from work. Come turned out to be the operative word, because Melinda had the unmistakable glow of someone who'd just had really good sex. It was in her eyes, her face, and particularly in the way she moved. That night when I should have gotten lucky she begged off sex citing a mild yeast infection. I settled for a blowjob and decided to find out the truth. So I started checking up on her; monitoring her time away from me, checking the laundry, and listening very, very carefully to everything she said. It's amazing the things you pick up in common conversations when you really pay attention. I've always operated on the idea that a woman will do everything she can to avoid an outright lie. This doesn't mean you'll get the truth, it means you have to really listen and consider all of the possible meaning of the words being spoken. Almost as if you were playing verbal chess – so many possibilities and permutations. I was surprised at the subtle insinuation of disrespect that permeated our interactions. There was an undeniable condescension – I seemed to have lost my former position in the hierarchy and equality of our relationship. That and it was difficult to get a hold of her at work on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Even though in my mind my suspicions had turned to certainty there was nothing worth going to see a lawyer about. Then I found what I needed, actual physical evidence; a pair of cum-crusted black sheer panties. I knew the last time I'd seen her wearing these panties. I knew to the day the last time we'd had sex. The discrepancies between these two dates added up to infidelity. As far as I was concerned at that point she was more likely guilty than innocent. Confronting Melinda was a little more problematic. I mean she'd been lying to me for who knows how long. I assumed that she had her cheating excused by some form of perverted rationalization. I decided on a simple straightforward approach. I suggested another husband and wife only night out reminding her that she "owed me." I asked her specifically to wear the black sheer panties. That night as we dressed I reminded her about the panties and she said I wouldn't be disappointed. Dinner was fine as I generously poured on the attention and the wine. By the time we got home Melinda was as horny as I'd seen her in years. "Strip for me." I lay back against the headboard hands behind my head. "C'mon you sexy thing – show me what you got." Melinda began to sway drunkenly but shook her head. "C'mon Melinda you owe me. We haven't had sex in almost a month" (actually it was just 2-1/2 weeks but I wanted her to say that.) I waggled my finger at her. "We had sex the day you went on that trip – it's only been (she paused) two weeks." "Two and a half weeks." "Fine. Two and a half weeks." One fact agreed too. "Come on you sexy thing – take it off." "Okay. But don't expect this every time you take me out." I nodded my head as Melinda slowly disrobed. Shoes first, then stockings (she showed me a lot of leg, but no panties were visible) her blouse came undone slowly as she labored over every button. Off it came and underneath she was wearing the sheer black bra that went with the panties. She really put the tease on taking off her bra – strap pushed down, then strap pulled back up. Then the straps were down and stayed down. She did a slow turn and when her back was to me she reached behind and unclasped her bra. Damn she was good. She slowly turned back to face me. With her bra unclasped she cradled her breasts in the bra cups. Then she bent forward, lowering the cups as I hooted for "nipples" before lifting it away and throwing it at me. "I can't wait to see those panties babe." I rubbed my crotch. Ha! I saw a wave of anxiety sweep across her face. It only served to heighten my readiness. I was ready for some kind of trick on her part. She didn't disappoint me. She unzipped her skirt bent over and hooked her thumbs in the material. "Stop! Straighten up Melinda, I want to see your pussy through the sheer." "Hey, who's doing this strip tease anyway?" She was trying to joke but I heard the hard edge beneath her tone. "Hey, I thought this was about pleasing me. I want to see those panties." "What's the big deal with those panties Tim. C'mon. I'm horny, you're horny..." "I gave you those as an anniversary gift last year remember? They symbolize our marriage, our intimate bond. C'mon humor me – drop the skirt and let me see those panties." Melinda let the skirt fall revealing no panties. Not only were there no panties, but she was shaved smooth. She put her hands on her hips, "Ta-da." I was temporarily taken aback. I hadn't expected this. Fortunately, my body did not betray me. An erection right now would have been a point for her. I was surprised at how quickly I re-seized the initiative. "Where are the black panties? Put the black panties on and start over." "Ah Tim, look a little closer. I've shaved for you, I'm bare down there." "Yeah, whatever." I congratulated myself on sticking to the issue and a good retort. "I asked to see my wife in black panties...not my wife looking like a porn star." "Porn star?" She was off balance for a moment, and then her disrespect for me came roaring to the fore. "I did this for you..." "Says who? I've never asked you to shave, I asked for the black panties." I was ready now and knew the perfect line. "Personally, I think that makes you look slutty." "Slutty?" Her eyes narrowed as she flushed with anger. "Just put the panties on...please." I changed my tone to a more accommodating one. "What is with you and those damn panties." She was losing it and I couldn't have felt more in control. "I like them! I like the way you look in them. Why is it so hard for you to do one simple thing for me? Would you please put the panties on." "I couldn't find them Tim, all right?" She was furious with me. "They're probably in the wash." "You always wash your lingerie together, you have the bra, where are the panties?" I was not about to let this go. "I told you I couldn't find them." She was getting pissed and I just got calmer and calmer. "Hey, don't get mad at me. I'm just the guy who gave them to you and asked you to wear them for him." I shrugged in innocence. "All you had to do is say something earlier. I wouldn't have insisted if you had told me the truth. All you had to do was be truthful, what's so hard about that? So the last time you wore them was right before my trip. I remember because you looked so sexy in them when we were getting ready for bed? You took them off – hey, maybe they got kicked under the bed?" "Look Tim, can we just forget about the damn panties right now." The horniness was draining from her face. I could see a glimmer of doubt in her eyes. "Can't you just make love to me?" "Sure no problem." Melinda sighed in relief. I wasn't done with her yet. "I think I remember where I bought those. Man they really meant a lot to me." "Yes Tim." Her voice was edged with wariness. "I can see that." She stepped back from the bed, her desire clearly ebbing. "Hmmm, the last time I saw you with them on was right here in this room?" I rolled off the bed and knelt beside it, lifting the sham. "You took them off before we had sex, right? I think you were standing right about here - remember?" "I remember Tim. I was standing here, I took them off and we had sex. But now, I'm standing here, I'm not wearing them and I seem to be developing a headache. I think I'll give you a rain check on the rest of the evening." Melinda began to pick up her clothes. "Whoa what's the problem? They're just panties – no big deal." Melinda looked miserable. "Are we okay Melinda? Is there something you want to tell me? I mean it's been two and a half weeks since we had sex and I make a simple request and now I'm in the dog house. Why didn't you just tell me that you didn't know where the panties were? What's so hard about being honest with me? Why would you try to hide something like that?" "I don't know. I didn't want to disappoint you. I know it's been awhile since we've been together. We're both so busy with careers and family. I guess I've turned next-to-nothing into a big to-do. I'm sorry." "Me too. Well how about we re-schedule – well looky here." I smiled as I pulled out the crusty underwear and extended them to her. She took them; looking puzzled, momentarily horrified, then (surprisingly) confident. "So that's where they've been? I thought I'd looked there." I had to give her credit, she was recovering very quickly. "Go ahead, put them on." "They're filthy Tim. I'll make sure you're the first to see them after I wash them." "That's it?" I had to admire her brazenness. "Why? Is there something else?" "We haven't had sex in two and a half weeks. We agreed the last time you wore these you took them off before we had sex. Explain to me what they're all crusty with?" I silently congratulated myself on not sounding accusatory. "It looks like cum." What happened next was a bravura performance of lies and evasions. We were 'wrong' on the dates and timings of when we'd had sex. She even made a big deal over "realizing" that I suspected her of 'seeing someone else.' I was 'jealous over nothing.' The capper – she though it was 'cute' that I suspected her of being 'a sex-crazed vixen.' I apologized profusely for my jealousy and poor memory. I watched the look of conquest glow from her. I'm sure she thought everything was alright. It wasn't all right. She was 'wrong,' it wasn't 'nothing,' and there is nothing cute about being a 'slut.' I knew that much. My apologies dissolved into a white hot quiet anger. My anger ushered in a change of perspective. I was no longer in doubt I knew then that she was fucking someone else. As far as I was concerned our marriage was over. I knew and soon, she would know that I knew. When you're no longer in denial, you can actually find out a lot in a very short amount of time. I wanted incontrovertible evidence – basically I wanted to catch her in the act - and I was willing to do whatever it took. It's amazing what they can do with modern GPS equipment, a tap on your own phones, a bit of computer snooping and a couple of digital voice recorders. All too soon I had a fairly clear picture; who he was, what they did, how often –and most importantly - when they planned to meet next. Her lover was some guy named Ernie. They met two to three times per week (Tuesday, Thursday, and frequently Saturdays), usually at a motel on the other side of town. It all seemed so routine when you listened to the recordings. The biggest surprise for me was the complete lack of guilt on Melinda's part. In the taped conversations I was usually characterized as simply someone to be scheduled around. That was it – I was a complication to their being together. When I realized Melinda's utter lack of concern and the depth of her disrespect for me. I went from some ambiguous thoughts of possible reconciliation - with her really having to make it up to me - to absolute retribution, she was going to pay. I wasn't going to fight for her – she was now the enemy. I was going to fight her for everything. It's amazing what that kind of clarity that can do for you. I can even tell you the exact moment that I reached that tipping point. It occurred in the hearing of her side of a single conversation shortly after the panty incident. A voice recorder in her car got this side of a cell phone conversation between Melinda and Lover Boy. Melinda: Suspicious? - not any more. Tim trusts me completely. You should see him go out of his way to be nice to me. It really is quite cute. Melinda: I just explained that the crusty semen in the dirty underwear he'd found was his. I said that I'd been looking for weeks for those panties. I thanked him for finding them underneath the washer. He bought it without a second thought. Melinda: (laughing) Yeah but he's my dumb ass." Melinda: Yeah I do adore it. Be patient I'm almost there. Melinda: No Ernie, I've told you before. I love Tim, he's my husband. Melinda: Yes, I love you too. But in a different way...thank God I don't have to choose. I have the best of both worlds. A husband who makes love to me and a lover who totally fucks me. It's funny the things you can consider when you no longer care about the other person. The bitch was going to pay – big time. Playing the cards you're dealt. My payback was multi-pronged; I wanted Melinda to suffer short-term and long-term. If things went as planned Melinda would never forget her betrayal. I can't say I was looking to put a hurt on Ernie, as far as I was concerned he was just an opportunistic prick. If trouble came his way, so be it Our kids were a different story; I wanted to protect them from the initial blast of our family dissolving. Plus I wanted it all to land on Melinda. I wanted her to look into their sad faces and know that she alone was responsible. In that way they actually determined my timing. I waited for the school year to end and arranged for them to attend a weeklong soccer camp at a University a couple of hours drive away. The camp ran Monday through Friday. 52 Pick-Up I dropped the kids off Monday morning and took the time to talk with the camp directors. I explained that I was having serious problems with their mother involving faithfulness and possible drug use (I tossed that in for effect, it definitely got their attention.) I told them I'd be filing for divorce today or tomorrow, depending on when she dragged herself home. I wanted to shield the kids during the initial days of anguish. The directors were very sympathetic. Today, Tuesday was the day of reckoning. Melinda was scheduled to meet Ernie at four in the afternoon. I spent that day getting all my ducks in a row; divorce papers ready, locks changed, bank accounts and credit cards taken care of. This was a day Melinda would never forget. I checked my watch again - timing was all important. I smiled when I saw her car enter the parking lot – Operation Slap the Slut Down was now operational. I called Melinda's work as soon as I saw her car turning into the parking lot. I left a quick message on her voicemail saying there was an emergency and to call me on my cell phone as soon as possible. Ernie arrived a few minutes later; damn he was young – mid to late twenties by my guess. Any remaining trepidations about my intended course of action vanished when I saw Melinda enthusiastically kiss Ernie. I called her cell phone while she was still kissing him. She looked at her phone and did what I thought she would; she let it ring. I hung up at the start of her voicemail and called again. I figured she would either turn her phone off or lock it in her car (that way she had plausible deniability if I was to ask her later why she didn't answer) She chose option number two and locked the phone in her car. That's when I left a message that said there was a family emergency and that she needed call me as soon as she could. I watched them enter the room and began to call and hang up every couple of minutes. I planned on leaving dozens of "missed call" flags on her phone. I waited about twenty minutes, figuring they were at the very least naked if not fucking, then drove to a spot next to Melinda's car. I opened my trunk (best to look natural in case anyone was looking my direction – all they would see is some guy with the trunk of his car open.) Did you know you can unscrew the inner part of a tire valve stem and the air rushes out in no time at all? In less then three minutes I flatted both tires on the driver side of Melinda's car and screwed the inner valves back into place. I took half a dozen roofing nails that I had shortened to about ¼" in length and pushed them into the thick portion of the tire tread. It looked as if she'd have run over a bunch of nails – tough luck. Ernie's truck received some special treatment (okay, I wasn't looking to physically hurt Ernie, but since I had the opportunity I decided to fuck with him too.). I had borrowed a small floor jack, so I jacked up the front of his car and loosened the oil pan bolt until it was just holding on. I lowered his car, put the jack in my trunk and closed it. I was finished with everything in fifteen minutes. I drove off and waited for them to finish. They came out of the room two hours later with more kissing and hugging. The only noticeable difference was that Melinda's movements were more languid and affectionate – she gets that way after sex. Her movements were anything but languid when she saw the two flat tires – she was gesturing and waving her arms around as she walked front to back alongside her car. Ernie must have said something stupid because she turned and said something that had him putting his hands up in front of him as he shook his head and backed away - idiot. I called her phone. She looked in the car and fished around in her purse for her car key. I swear you could see her flinch when she saw the number of missed calls. It was show time. I saw her dial and prepared myself for my performance. "Hi Tim? Have you..." Her voice sounded shaky and nervous. "My God Melinda. Where have you been?" I was yelling into the phone. I paused to take a breath. "You don't have to yell Tim. I can hear you just fine." "I've been trying for hours to get a hold of you? Where are you? Why aren't you at work?" I had my voiced pitched right at the edge of panic. Melinda started to stammer out some lame excuse. I started talking over her. I began to crinkle some paper and break up my speech pattern. "Be quiet and listen. There's been a serious at the soccer camp. Both kids have been taken to I'm on my way to the Hospital. They're for emergency surgery. The doctors sure if make it. Hurry, shit my battery's dying. Did you get that Medical Center ? I'll meet you there. Hurry Melin...." I hung up and turned off my phone. I could see her shouting into the phone. Then she swung into action. Melinda pushed Ernie to his car and soon they were heading for the freeway. I waited until they were out of sight then drove to Melinda's car. I pulled the phony nails out of her tires and re-filled them both with cans of flat fix. She was going to need her car before the end of the day. I had two more calls to make before I drove home. I headed for the freeway they would be taking to get to the University. I stopped at the first emergency call box on the freeway and pulled out two of my voice recorders. I was soon talking to the state highway patrol. I pitched my voice low and added a southern drawl. "Hi officer, ah want to report a case of... ah road rage ah guess you'd call it. Ah was going the speed limit (I said that with emphasis) and this blue Toy-yota pick-up just came flying up behind me – right on my ass, 'scuse my language. I s'pose I should have pulled over, but – well, anyway this crazy guy starts leanin' on his horn. Then he swings out around me – Ah'm surprised he didn't hit anyone - and swerves up right next to me. Almost hit me, bad as that was, Ah mean ah have my wife and kids with me, then he sped up and cut right in front a me...ah got a partial plate just the last three numbers; 3-9-2. My name is..." I pressed a recorder. An angry female voice blared out of the speaker. "Tell them about the gun Harold. I saw a gun. That crazy asshole flashed a gun at you." I turned away from the phone. "Honey, ah didn't see it. Look ah'm just telling them my name..." I pressed the second recorder. "So those crazy people can track us down and kill us? Hang up Harold. Hang up right now! Like this Harold..." I disconnected the call. I'd recorded those phrases with a woman a work who had a booming Southern drawl. I told her it was for a practical joke on my shiftless brother. She'd given me half a dozen takes without bating an eye. I got back in my car and headed home. On the way, I called the soccer camp people and in a world weary voice I informed them that telling my wife I was divorcing her had not gone well. I told them that she had "gone ballistic" and threatened my life. I warned them that she and her lover might be on the way there to try and take the children. I told them I was just calling to be certain that they wouldn't release the children to them as my wife's lover was a known drug user and it wasn't a safe situation for the kids. The camp operators were very understanding. I asked them not to say anything to the kids unless it was absolutely necessary. An hour or so later I was sitting at home eating pizza and drinking beer. I figured I had at least one more hour before May Anne might show up. That would be the case if she was able to contact the soccer camp and determine that the kids were fine. I didn't think that likely as I had made all the arrangements and she didn't even have the proper name for the camp let alone the phone number. If she got to the University she would then find out that there wasn't a University Medical Center or Hospital. "If she got there" I had to smile at that. If the oil drain plug had fallen out, she and Ernie were sitting by the side of the road. A couple of hours later the camp called to report that Melinda and a male companion had indeed shown up. They arrived in the company of the state police. The police had pulled them over for speeding and just about strip searched them looking for weapons – something about a report of road rage. The camp officials assured her that the kids were fine, but that they had refused to let Melinda see them – unless it was in the presence of their father. She asked them "what the hell is that supposed to mean?" That's when one of the camp people mentioned the impending divorce and asked if the man she was with was her husband or her lover. They said Melinda went white as a sheet – then she became hysterical. The State Police had to escort Melinda and Ernie off the campus grounds. Then the soccer camp folks made my day. I couldn't have planned this part. While Melinda and Ernie were talking, one of the staff mentioned the drug user reference to the police. They pulled Ernie over just after they left the campus and searched him again. Evidently Ernie got pissed and got into it with one of the officers. They arrested him for driving while impaired. Melinda was deemed unfit to drive due to her hysterical emotional state and was taken into temporary custody too. I received a call from the state police no long after speaking with the camp folks. I had a very nice conversation with a Sergeant Waterston. I explained that my wife had been cheating on me and that I'd finally had enough. Melinda was informed this afternoon that I had seen a lawyer and had filed for divorce. I gave the sergeant my lawyer's telephone number. The sergeant asked if I'd stay available as he wanted to talk to my wife. I said sure, but don't be surprised if she denies everything. I even suggested it was okay with me if they wanted to take a vaginal swab. He declined. A half- hour later he called back. They were releasing Melinda and that my wife wanted to talk with me. I told the sergeant that she was free to call my lawyer at the number I had provided. He kind of laughed a little when he asked if I was coming to pick Melinda up. I informed them that her car was in the parking lot of the motel where she'd been screwing her lover. He chuckled a little at that. Ten minutes later, the phone rang and I saw Melinda's cell number on the caller ID. I picked up and said nothing. Finally after a long pause I heard an inhalation and Melinda's quavering voice. "Tim, I don't know what you think is going on but..." "Please don't make this any worse than you already have. Your adultery has destroyed our family you stupid whore." I hung up and turned the ringer off. I would have loved to see her face when she heard the new answering message on the machine. "Hi this is Tim. Melinda no longer lives here. Her cell number is..." It was two in the morning when I heard someone (guess who) pounding on the front door. I walked to the door and shouted through it. "You're things are in the driveway. (I'd packed, okay stuffed, her clothes into a bunch of trash bags) Take your cheating ass and go away." "Tim, please let me in." Melinda sounded absolutely exhausted. "There's been a terrible misunderstanding. We need to talk. I love you Tim. Please." We went back and forth, I didn't budge. Finally, I replayed part of a phone conversation I'd taped when she was driving in her car. She was talking to Ernie and saying how much she loved sucking and fucking him. I turned the volume up loud when it came to the part where she said his cum was so sweet and tasty. Melinda started to cry. I told her to get her stuff and go stay with her lover or whoever else she was fucking. She finally left telling me that she was going to her parents and would be back tomorrow to straighten this all out. The next day didn't quite work out the way she intended. Actually, none of the days that followed worked out for her. I was as relentless as I was unmerciful. I had her officially served at work on Thursday. That little stunt had her waiting by my car at the end of the work day. She was furious. "I have nothing to say to you slut." I was quite pleased with my ability to remain calm. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I can't believe you had me served at work! Do you have any idea what you've done?" She was as angry as I've ever seen. "What I've done? I'll talk to you how ever I chose. Would you prefer "stupid whore?" "Tim, I admit that I may have made a mistake. We can work through this. I love you Tim. Let's stop this silliness and..." "Silliness? You're a cheating, stupid whore. If I give you twenty bucks will you go away?" "How dare you...I am your wife Tim. I am the mother of our children. Now they are going to be coming home tomorrow and they are going to find..." "Me. They are going to find just me. I imagine you, the stupid whore, will be on your back somewhere with Lover Boy." "Tim, please stop calling me names. It's not going to help us. We need to talk about this. I realize you're angry and upset, but we can work through this Tim. Our marriage can be stronger for this." "Would you listen to yourself you stupid whore?" "Stop calling me names Tim." "Okay. Answer me this," I glared at her with an intensity of hatred that surprised even me. She wilted before me. "You chose to "be" with another man. You stripped naked before him, you sucked his cock, you swallowed his cum and let him fuck you. By doing this you risked everything; our marriage, our family, my love and respect for you, my health - by the way "dearest" I've been tested and I'm clean so far. HIV testing is a six months wait. (She paled at that comment.) You risked everything – what did lover boy risk?" "No...no, it's not like that..." Melinda was shaking. "You risked everything, he risked nothing. What did you get? Tell me what you got. You're about to lose everything Melinda, what did you get from your lover. What did you get for throwing all of this away?" She just shook her head, unable to speak. "That's exactly right – you got nothing? No jewelry, no trips to romantic locales, no cars – nothing – no secret bank account, no suitcase full of money – not one damn thing, did you? You got nothing. Well you're right about one thing. I have absolutely no right to call you a stupid whore. A whore is smart enough to get something for fucking. You fucked another man for which you got nothing and now you're going to lose everything. You're not even smart enough to be a decent whore. Calling you a whore is giving whores a bad name. I guess that just makes you a really dumb slut." I drove away with her sitting on the ground sobbing uncontrollably. Fuck her. Cashing in my chips I'd arrived for the lawyers office right on time. I had even stopped by the house to shower and dress in a suit. I wanted her to see me at my best. I sat opposite her in the lawyers office. If I cared for her in any way, the look that Melinda leveled at me should have wrung my heart out; her pain was palpable. My expression remained calm and impassive; my resolve was unwavering. She made one last effort to put off the inevitable I simply glanced down at my watch then back up at Melinda. Her shoulders slumped. She picked up the pen and asked my lawyer where to sign. Victory was mine! - I felt like I wanted to do some silly end zone dance. The first document she signed was the petition for divorce – citing irreconcilable differences. At one time I had cared deeply that the cause be listed as adultery. I was fortunate to have a lawyer who really knew how to bring on the pain. The key, she had told me again and again, was in the terms and conditions of the divorce. Success was determined by knowing what the other side wanted and what you could force them to give up in return. The whole signing process was literally a performance my lawyer and I had choreographed. There were props and characters; it was really quite impressive. The next document was a name change request. Melinda was being required to revert back to her maiden name. If you don't think that's a big deal – guess again – she was no longer going to have the same last name as her children. That point alone almost sunk the agreement. Oh yeah, that one hurt big time. I watched as Melinda relinquished my surname, tears trickling down her cheeks. A small black tray was placed before her. This time when Melinda looked at me her expression seemed hollowed out – then it hit me and I actually felt a twinge of sympathy for her. It wasn't just that any hope of avoiding this was failing, it was more than that. The realization of loss was being overwhelmed by the actual reality of surrender. Her losses were suddenly real – these were not negotiating points any longer. She looked at the tray and shuddered as she removed her wedding ring. As soon as she placed it on the tray it was quickly removed from the room. She twisted her engagement ring on her finger. I had let her keep it but even that small victory was about to turn to ashes. "Do you know why I'm letting you keep that ring Melinda? I gave you that ring when I asked you to be my wife. I want you to keep that ring to remember all that we promised and all that you've thrown away." I pulled my wedding band off my finger and pushed it toward her. "You can have this back, it's still whole and complete, I kept my promises..." One of my lawyers' assistants returned with the tray. Melinda's ring had been cut in two. I picked up the pieces and held them in my open hand then tossed the pieces into a trashcan. "Worthless crap." Melinda seemed to waver in her chair and reached out to grip the table. Her head was bobbing slightly. My thrill of victory was beginning to fade. I actually began feel sorry for her as the next document was placed before her. A Quit Claim Deed for her share of the house. The key here was that the monetary value of her share was being put in a college trust for the children with her as trustee until they came of age. Finally we came to the document that had leveraged her acceptance of everything that had preceded it. – the custody agreement. My lawyer spoke clearly. "Do you fully understand the conditions of this custody agreement? The children remain in the house. Parents alternate living in the house on a weekly basis the transition of custody to occur every Sunday between the hours of 6 and 7 PM. All expenses to be borne equally until the child finish college or reach the age of maturity. If you agree to these conditions and arrangements, just sign at the bottom." I watched my soon to be ex-wife sign. The pen fell listlessly from her hand and she began to cry in earnest. Defeat is not a pretty sight. And it lasts a long, long time. I had been a step ahead of Melinda from the moment she exited that motel room with Ernie. My position was unchanging; divorce and controlling custody of the kids. I guess she thought she could find a way around all this. I had a coupe of things going for me. The kids of course were the key. I bent over backwards to protect them and ensure that Melinda and her parents had access to them. I also promised not to tell the kids what their mother had done that lead to our divorce. That was couched in the language of "your mom and dad are parting as partners but not as parents." The other key was the threat of revealing and releasing video evidence of Melinda and Ernie - although, truth be told, I really didn't have any. Years before a friend told me that he'd seen a porno starring an actress who bore a striking resemblance to Melinda. I'd checked it out and had to admit that there was a real resemblance. During the planning phase of my retribution I turned that resemblance to my advantage by buying a number of those movies. I found a couple of videos with actors that matched a verbal description of Ernie; mid/late twenties, average height and weight, dark hair, etc. By taping portions of the videos off the TV with my camcorder I was able to produce a pretty graphic motel room session It looked like video shot under poor lighting conditions. It was especially effective when viewed on the 2.5 inch LCD screen of the camera. It looked like Melinda being fucked by Ernie. 52 Pick-Up Melinda would have spotted it as a fake in a second - but not her dad. We had a meeting where he tried to convinve me to give Melinda another chance. He said that he was willing to pay a lawyer to keep the divorce from happening. So I showed the video to her Dad. I told him this was one of the easier ones to view and that I had hours of the stuff. Evidently he was very effective in persuading Melinda to drop her opposition. I guess I would be too if an irate son was threatening to e-mail the video to everyone and anyone they knew – family, friends, coworkers, etc.. The clincher when all was said and signed was the joint custody. Alternating weeks, I made sure that there was specific and clear language in the agreement that Melinda was prohibited from bringing her lovers (I insisted that the plural be used) into the house. Call and Raise You know what's funny - the last thing I expected when getting divorced was the effect it seemed to have on women. I'd be lying if I didn't say that my own self-esteem had taken a huge hit after being cuckolded by Melinda. You can't help but feel you're not much of a man, at the very least you must be a lousy lover. I was shocked to find out that my new marital status, or lack there of, was like catnip to women. During the divorce I had stubbornly taken the high ground regarding revenge fucking or even dating for that matter. That just wasn't who I was – plus my lawyer insisted on no additional complications. But as an officially single man with good credit and plenty of disposable income – suddenly, I was a catch. And you want to know what was even better? There were a lot of women out there determined to see me through this difficult time. I was pleasantly surprised at the number of women willing to help me get me back in the saddle - so to speak. They were so persistent that I began to look forward to my time living at home with the kids – I needed the rest. I had offers from woman at work, from acquaintances (including some who were good friends with Melinda), and even from fellow residents of my new apartment building where I stayed during my "off week." This is how the first time happened while I was still moving into my new place. I'd ordered pizza, so the soft knock indicating its arrival wasn't unexpected. The delivery person sure was. I recognized her as someone I'd seen in the building – I didn't know her name. "Hi, my name 's Darlynne (she pronounced it "Darlin'), with a "ynne" and I'd just like to welcome you to the building." Darlynne was average looking and had an easy to like quality about her. I invited her in and we shared the pizza and a couple of beers. Darlynne was divorced, "he tried to fuck everything female over eighteen and some under I suspect" personable, plumpish and refreshingly straightforward. "Tim, I like you. You seem like a real nice guy. So anytime you need the company of a woman you just call ole Darlynne." I nodded unknowingly. I almost started to say that I could handle the cooking and cleaning just fine – as a freshly single guy I was really clueless. "I love oral sex – both the giving and the getting, fucking only happens after a date. I don't do anal, and if you try, that'll be the last time you see me." Darlynne had spoken so clearly and matter of fact that I wasn't even erect - "now, let's see that cock of yours" – yet. Darlynne had my zipper down and cock out in no time at all. She looked at it with a critical eye. "Well all right Tim, you've got a good one here – lucky me." It was, without a doubt, the weirdest proposition I had ever received. It was followed by one truly excellent blowjob. There's just something to be said for a woman who truly enjoys having a cock in her mouth. I realized that Darlynne was such a woman – lucky me. It wasn't just her enthusiasm, it was her technique too. She used her lips, tongue and teeth to maximum effect. She was also a "hands on" fellatrix. By that I mean she used her hands to increase my pleasure. Lots of women will use their hands wrapped around your cock to keep from gagging, or to hurry you along – not Darlynne. I can't begin to describe what she was doing, mostly because my head was tilted back in unrestrained ecstasy. She tugged, she twisted, she tickled, and she caressed. And when I was getting close she asked me to trust her. At my nod her finger slid up my butt cheeks and wormed its way inside. A tap of my prostate at the peak of orgasm magnified it beyond comprehension. The next night the blowjob was repeated followed by my going down on her. By the end of night we were fucking. I'd managed to convince her that the pizza dinner we'd shared the night before counted as being a date. We started fucking frequently. Not that we were exclusive – far from it. A couple of weeks after we'd taken up, Darlynne had to go out of town on business during one of my off weeks. So she sent a friend over. Rhonda wasn't into oral near as much as Darlynne, but – oh god – could that woman fuck. Rhonda did things with her hips that were unbelievable. It was like a hula dance – I guess - with a lot of Kegels mixed in. It was almost scary the way that woman was able to milk my balls empty. I have to admit that I was a bit of a slut at first. I bedded, well it's probably more accurate to state that I fucked and was fucked by seventeen different women during the first year of my divorce. The sex was great – if a little empty. I freely admit that I missed the intimacy that Melinda and I had once had. On the other hand, that missing only fueled my continuing anger toward her. I made no effort to hide my amorous activities from her. I enjoyed seeing "that" hurt in her eyes every Sunday evening. Slowly things settled into a routine, even the kids seemed to be doing okay. Holidays were painful especially the first time through but we managed. Months became years, and we all got older if not wiser. It was four years post divorce that the unexpected happened. I fell in love. Laying Down Your Cards The kids were involved in a youth group at church. The group went on all kinds of outings, including a couple of snow weekends each winter. I was asked to chaperone on occasion and was more then happy to help out. It was during a ski trip that Jillian, one of the other chaperones (she was the sister of one of the youth ministers), broke her arm. After first aid was rendered by the ski patrol I was asked to run her down the hill to get it x-rayed and put in a cast. The hospital, once we got there, was swamped due to a traffic accident and we ended up going across the street to eat and kill a couple of hours. Jillian was cute, rather than beautiful, and all of twenty-five. As we talked and ate I became aware that we had real chemistry between us. I found myself deeply attracted to Jillian. She did nothing to dissuade me. It took me a month to summon the courage to ask her out on an official date. After all, I was twenty-one years her senior. She accepted (she told me her dad was twelve years older then her mom and they were still together) and we began to date. I slowly let go of my harem over the next few weeks as Jillian and I got serious. Everything was happening fairly fast. Jillian and I were a couple of months into our relationship (yep, that's what it was) when Melinda ask if I was in love with Jillian. I was all prepared to deny it when I realized I couldn't lie about something like that – I answered with a quiet "yes." Melinda just nodded and then hugged me, "You deserve to be happy." I was stunned. One, that I realized that I really did love Jillian. Two, that Melinda sensed and accepted it. And three, when I told this to Jillian she simply smiled and said it had taken me long enough. For the first time in years I realized that I was truly happy. I was actually content within myself. That was when I understood that there was something very important that I needed to do. I had accepted Melinda's apology for her unfaithfulness years ago, but at the time I refused to forgive her. It was time for me to formally forgive Melinda. During the drive over I recalled Melinda's effort at apology and explanation. The first time hardly counted. It was just before we signed te divorce and custody agreements. Melinda had asked for a half hour meeting – just the two of us – before signing. I knew what she was going to try and talk me out of divorce. I went prepared. On the way to the meeting I played recordings of Melinda extolling Ernie's cock and cum. I spent the entire half hour looking at her like she was less than dog shit. When the half hour was up I looked at my watch and picked up a pen. She knew she had failed. Her second attempt was just after our first round through the holidays, the first time we celebrated as a split apart family. Due to a quirk in the calendar I ended up with the kids for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a miserable time and early in January Melinda asked to speak with me. That's when I found out she knew I was "dating" or as she termed it "your open door, open fly bimbo policy." It went downhill from there. "Look Tim, I know I messed up. I've caused a lot of pain in our family – our family Tim. The holidays were horrible – for me, for you, and for the kids – we've all suffered. I know that you've been with a number of different women and it's just tearing me apart. We are meant to be together Tim, all of us. I've scheduled an appointment for us with a couples counselor. It's time we got back together – I've learned my lesson. I was aghast. I was so surprised, so stunned at what Melinda had just said that I couldn't respond at first. Then the anger began to flow and my mind crystallized into cold focus. "Learned your lesson?" "Yes Tim. I will never lie to you again. I will be completely honest." Melinda looked at me with an expression of complete earnestness. I guessed that she believed her own bullshit. "I see. What about your lovers? Does that mean you're planning on giving them up?" "Singular, not plural. I haven't talked to or seen Ernie since that horrible day. Unlike you, I haven't dated anyone." "Oh. I see." I looked at her and nodded my head slowly. "So then it's just straight to the sack or does a back seat or park bench work just as well." "How dare you! I have not been with any other man – period. Unlike you and your pussy on parade lifestyle." I could see that she was getting pretty wound up. I just let her go. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to know that you leave the kids and spend you week fucking anything that's willing?" "One we're not married Melinda. Two, I'm a single guy now. And three..." "Like that means anything. You and I belong together. It doesn't matter that you're single – it's still cheating on me. You should stop playing around and give us a chance to get back together." I'd had enough. "Look Melinda, if you're horny. Come on by some night and we can party. I always had a fantasy of you, me and another woman – I'm game." That was pretty much the end of that conversation. Melinda would try again every six months or so. It was only about a year ago that she was able to apologize with any real sincerity. She'd been in therapy and I guess it seemed to help. I realized that as soon as she began to speak, even the tone of her voice was softer than usual. "Tim, I want to start off by saying that I don't believe that I will ever be able to realize how deeply I hurt you with my betrayal of our marriage and my unconscionable lying to cover it up. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for the pain I've caused you and the kids all because of me selfishness. It's only through therapy that I've come to understand how despicable and disgusting my behavior was. I am truly sorry." "Apology accepted." Melinda went on to tell me that her infidelity (she never called it anything else after that) was a result of undiagnosed depression, a mid life crisis and a complete breakdown in her values, morals, and ethics. She had done it – been unfaithful – simply because she could. When all was stripped away, that's what she was left with. Ernie was not some amazing lover – just different. His cock and cum weren't anything special – the cheating made it seem better. There was nothing romantic or seductive about the way she met Ernie. It was work related, she met him while I was away on business and they had danced and flirted on a Friday night after work. Ernie had kept in touch with Melinda after I'd returned. That was when the deceptions began. That's when Melinda realized how thrilling it was to sneak around behind me. It became a game between her and Ernie. The next time I left town for a couple of days, He had talked her into taking a half day off. He took her to a restaurant in the lobby of a down town hotel. They had flirted outrageously during the meal and drunk a fair amount of wine. He asked her if she was interested in dessert and offered a suggestion – the specialty of the house. He slid a room key across the table. Melinda said she was flattered and declined Ernie's offer. He talked her into at least checking out the view. Once in the room, she realized that it had no view. Ernie said the prettiest view in the world was standing right in from of him. Melinda said that she just stood there looking at him – aroused out of her mind. Ernie pushed her up against the wall, reached up under dress and pulled her panited to the side and shoved his cock into her. To this day she said she had no recollection of him unzipping, or even being erect. He fucked her savagely against the wall – pounding into her with relentless thrust until he came in her. It was the wickedest, nastiest thing she had ever done. Ernie pulled out and smoothed out her dress. Melinda said she just stood there with his cum running down her legs. He undressed and sat on the bed. He looked at her and said, "Come get me hard if you want to fuck some more." They fucked for the rest of the afternoon. When I returned she took care of her guilt by paying extra attention to me. Only she was already waiting for the next time I'd be out of town. Eventually she became so comfortable with cheating on me she didn't wait for me to be out of town. That went on until I caught her. When she was done, I repeated that I accepted her apology and left it at that. I purposefully did not say that I forgave her. That's why I needed to do that before getting serious with Jillian. I needed to forgive Melinda so I could move forward. You should have seen the tears that Sunday night– Melinda, me, the kids. We were all bawling our eyes out. Some tears were tears of sorrow and regret, most were happy tears. I told Melinda that despite it all, there was a part of me that would always love her. She said that she had never stopped loving me. I nodded in understanding. A Father's Need Nothing is forever. That's always a tough one to learn. I loved Jillian and she loved me, we were happy in our relationship. But, both of us acknowledged that marriage was not in our future. For one thing Jillian wanted kids and I'd had a vasectomy just after Chayna was born and was unwilling to consider reversal. Needless to say our time together had an expiration date; it's just that neither of us knew what it was. We found out all too soon. During one of my off weeks, on a Saturday afternoon to be specific, Jillian was lying on top of me after a particularly vigorous session of love-making when her mom called. Jillian's Dad was in the hospital felled by a stroke. His outlook wasn't promising. We had Jillian packed and at the airport as soon as we could. We hugged and kissed and in that moment realized that we were probably saying good-bye - permanently. Jillian started crying. I just tried to hug her closer to me. When they called her plane we separated for the final time. Her parting words were – "I'll never forget you or ever stop loving you." I maintained my composure until I got in my car, then I cried. I was alone and it hurt terribly. I sat there and realized that my anger towards Melinda at the time of our divorce had masked a lot of pain – pain I had never really dealt with. Then my single and available status had distracted me from any serious introspection. My time with Jillian had changed all of that. It cured me of my anger toward Melinda and re-opened my heart to love. Since it was now Sunday morning I drove to the house. Melinda and the kids realized something was wrong immediately. When I told them what had transpired they were very sympathetic. Melinda just took over; she made me breakfast, then lunch and finally dinner. The two of us ended up talking until one in the morning, and then she went home. I didn't sleep well that night at all. During the week I talked to Jillian a couple of times. Our conversations only finalized what we had both sensed at the airport. Jillian's dad was going to take a long time in recovery and Jillian was going to stay and help her mom. I was really depressed. The kids were aware of what was going on and were incredibly supportive. Never the less, that Friday I found myself very much alone. The kids were out with friends and I had long since thrown out my little black book. Jillian had cured me of my pussy prowling ways and I had no desire to return to them. I was contemplating dinner when the door bell rang. Melinda stood there with a pizza, a six-pack, and a comforting smile. I returned the smile, took the six-pack out of her hand and followed the aroma of the pizza as she walked past me into the house. We had a delightful evening, chatting into the wee hours again. I was truly sorry to see her go home. Surprisingly I slept fairly well that night. The next day Saturday had a very similar outlook; the kids had plans. I called Melinda at three in the afternoon and asked her if I could treat her to dinner. She demurred at first but gave in when I threatened to show up at her door with a bunch of Chinese take out. Melinda cut right to the chase. "Are you asking me out Tim?" Her tone was conversational as much as interrogatory. I noted the ambiguity in the obviousness of our conversation. Man, she was cagey; she was leaving it for me to define. What she didn't know was that I had thought this through before calling her. "Exactly that." "Exactly what?" Have you ever heard a smile? I was sure I was. "What you just said." I wasn't going to get caught so easily. "So you are then." There was the slightest hint of wariness. "Asking me out...on a date." "Yes. I am." I was quietly confident and let an easy pause complete that thought. Then I spoke quickly. "Unless you have other plans, I certainly do not want to impose on you. Perhaps another time would be better?" "NO!" She spoke a little too loudly and eagerly. "I don't have anything important planned." Nice recovery. "All right." I dialed it way back. "Well, if it's not a problem, I'll pick you up about seven – that okay?" "Seven sharp is good." She sounded comfortable. I waited for the inevitable. "Ah, Tim – so what kind of place do you have in mind?" The question as to whether or not this was a date paled in comparison to this question. This was the real question, this wasn't about what to eat, this was about what to wear. If clothes make the man, then the way a woman dresses tells you – shit, I had no idea. I played my trump card. "I know of no woman who is better able to look good for any occasion than you – I'll pick you up at seven. Bye." I hung up immediately. In the next moment, garbled syntax aside, I was hit by a full fledged panic attack. I had just asked my ex-wife out on a date – A DATE! What the hell was I doing? Was I serious here? And if I was serious, just what exactly was I serious about? I had thought that I'd thought this all through thoroughly - now I wasn't so sure. Was this some kind of a rebound thing because of Jillian? Was I just fucking with Melinda or was I fucking around with Melinda or was I thinking that I wanted to fuck Melinda. I was alternately horny and horrified. 52 Pick-Up I nearly called her a half-dozen times. The problem was I wasn't sure why I was calling her back – was I canceling or clarifying. And just what was I clarifying. I had a dozen different internal conversations about what was going on – I wasn't in agreement with any of them. Finally I decided to take a shower. It ended up being a long shower. An unintended erection had to be firmly handled. Showered, shampooed, and shaved I was no closer to resolution. I had no idea what I was doing asking Melinda out on a date (there I said the "d" word) or what I was going to wear. I walked out of the bathroom – and into the unknown. I wasn't alone. Melinda was standing in front of the mirror doors of the walk-in closet. A red bra and panty set was laid out on the bed. She had a short red dress in one hand and a pair of jeans and a tank top in the other. "I'm just not sure Tim – what do you think?" I couldn't think. I was standing naked, in front of my just as naked ex-wife. How could I possibly think? - blood was flooding into my cock. A fact not lost on Melinda. "My, your recovery time has certainly improved with age?" That answered the question as to how long she had been here. She fixed me with her gaze, no it wasn't a gaze. It was more like fixing me in her sights. "Maybe if you tell me what you want Tim, I'll have a better idea about where were going." I was paralyzed, unable to speak or move. Dinner and "our date" were no longer the issue. Where were we going? Well, one part of me defiantly knew where it wanted to go. My heart was really pounding away quite dramatically. "Heart rate up a bit Tim? Blood pressure looks healthy." She was nodding in time with the beat of my cock. "Did Jillian do that? Did she like you that way? I must say Tim; it's very striking, very compelling, and very, very attractive." Melinda was referring to my shaven genitalia. And yes, Jillian did it to me and she liked it – a lot. I'd have said this to Melinda except that somehow during that last bit she had closed the distance between us. "Don't you agree Tim?" Melinda pointed down between her thighs - she was smooth too. "Is that what got you excited in the shower Tim? Shaving – or was it why you were shaving? Why were you shaving Tim? Were you getting a little itchy down there?" I was out of my depth here. I was speechless. I nodded. "I'm itchy down there too – real itchy. You probably wouldn't believe how itchy I've been." Melinda wrapped her arms around my neck, simultaneously pulling and jumping onto me – she wrapped her legs around my waist. "I bet I shaved closer than you did – wanna feel?" I was so close to orgasm. "Melinda, I don't think we should be doing this..." Melinda released one arm, relaxed the other, loosened her legs and slid down. I felt her free hand grasp my cock and before I could grab her butt to stop her she impaled herself on my cock. That was more than I could take. I spun around and pined her against the wall instinctively bucking my hips into her. Several hard thrusts later I came with a roar. It was one of those ego obliterating orgasms when you lose your sense of you. Cock and cunt was the only reality as I spasmed again and again and again. I just kept bucking into her until I heard Melinda scream my name. We slowly sank to the floor, still joined together. That's how the kids found us. I'd forgotten completely about them. They'd come home to get ready for their dates when they'd heard Melinda scream. They'll probably be scarred for life. Claiming the Kitty That night the kids went out on their dates. Melinda and I went on ours – sort of. Halfway through dinner neither of us could handle the sexual tension before us. We went home and fucked like bunnies. The next morning we were awakened by the kids knocking on the bedroom door. Safely covered up we invited them in. Their expressions were unreadable – something resembling wary, weary, and waiting. "Are you guys back together?" Nothing like the directness of youth. "I took advantage of your father last night." Melinda's voice was firm, with a tinge of sadness. She was inhaling for whatever she planned on saying next when I interrupted. "Yes, she took advantage of the opportunity for us to look at reconciliation. If it's okay with her and with the two of you, I think she and I should move back in here – together – as soon as possible. Today even." "What?" The bed was shaking with Melinda's trembling. "I think we both need lots of counseling and time and patience. But I really don't see any other alternatives. Do you?" Melinda's answer was intensely physical. She threw herself on me and started kissing me. I heard the bedroom door slam and a muffled "yeah" from the other side. Melinda had the situation and me well in hand. "You have no idea how thoroughly I am going to make sure you never regret this – even if it takes my the rest of my life" She was thorough all right – very, very thorough. I decided the rest of our lives would just about cover it.