110 comments/ 288918 views/ 27 favorites Guilty By: ohio Andrea couldn't believe how guilty she felt, how unbelievably awful. The feeling of having done something terrible—something unforgivable—was worse than anything she'd ever experienced before. Then again, what she'd done was worse than anything she'd ever done before. Andrea was 29, and her husband Peter was 31. They'd been married for six years—six years that had been as happy as any time in Andrea's life. Peter was smart, funny, incredibly loving, thoughtful, and her entire family adored him. Her mom kept telling Andrea how lucky she was, and Andrea was inclined to agree. But that hadn't stopped her from sleeping with another man--taking him upstairs into the marital bed and fucking him for half the night. She sat at the kitchen table in her bathrobe, holding her coffee cup and gazing out the back window without seeing anything. How could she have done this? Should she tell Peter about it? Was there any chance her marriage could survive her adultery? To say the least, cheating on Peter had been the last thing on her mind when she headed over to Leo and Diana's party. They lived three houses down the street, and were Peter and Andrea's best friends. Diana loved to entertain—it seemed that she and her husband had Saturday night parties almost once a month. Andrea and Peter were always invited, and on a number of occasions when Peter's business trips kept him away over the weekend Andrea went by herself. Neither she nor Peter saw anything untoward in this—he trusted her completely, and the party was full of people they'd known since they'd moved to Shaker Heights. Peter felt bad about having to be away so much, and it pleased him that Andrea had a chance to do something fun. Nothing was special about the most recent party: there was a variety of great finger foods on the buffet, there was lots of beer and wine, there was lively music and dancing, and there was easy, sometimes flirtatious conversation. Nearly everyone at the party had met before, and the atmosphere was relaxed and festive. But one thing was different: Diana's cousin James was visiting from Los Angeles, and he seemed instantly drawn to Andrea. After Diana introduced them to one another he chatted with her several times, and they danced a few times as well. James was a slim, attractive man of about 35; he had come to Cleveland to meet with a client of his electronics firm, and since he was in town over the weekend Diana naturally invited him to the party. As the evening wore on and Andrea had a few drinks, she became aware of James's interest in her—and aware that she was enjoying it. Nothing ever went on at Diana's parties beyond some harmless flirting and some sensual slow-dancing with another person's husband, but James twice took the opportunity to dance with Andrea in the darkened living room, holding her close enough that she could feel his erection. She giggled to herself, flattered by his interest. Tipsy as she was, she even allowed herself the fantasy of sneaking off with him and finding a private bedroom; but it was nothing more than the idle fantasy of a woman away from her husband for the evening. At about midnight, James thanked Diana and Leo for the party, then found Andrea and drew her aside in the kitchen. "I've got to head back to my hotel. Thanks for the dancing and the conversation—I really enjoyed being with you." His words were nothing beyond polite, but as he spoke them he looked into Andrea's eyes with a directness and an intensity that made her shiver. He wanted her, and she knew it with as much certainty as if he'd said, "come back to the hotel with me". Then with a slightly ironic smile, he took her hand and kissed it gently, before heading out the front door. Andrea sagged against the kitchen counter. She was aware how turned-on she was, and felt relieved that James was now safely gone. She had to admit to herself that she was slightly disappointed, too. At 12:35 Andrea said her goodbyes and strolled back to her house, pleasantly high and thinking about James. He had certainly been an attractive man. She stopped, dumbfounded, when she found him sitting in a chair on her front porch, apparently waiting for her. Unable to speak at first, she just stared at him blankly. "Hi," he said pleasantly. "Could I trouble you for a cup of coffee? I'm not sure I should drive back to the hotel just yet. I had several beers tonight." Alarm bells were ringing inside Andrea's head, but at the same time his request seemed so reasonable. She didn't want him to drive drunk and get into an accident. "Sure, I...I'd be glad to. Come on in." Ten minutes later they were sitting companionably at her kitchen table, drinking coffee and continuing the pleasant conversation they'd had at the party. Andrea began to feel she'd misread him; perhaps all he really wanted was some coffee. But when he got up, put the cups in the sink, and turned to her, she realized she'd been right the first time. "I didn't just come for the coffee," he said seriously. "I couldn't let my evening with you end, Andrea—and I didn't want to do anything indiscreet in front of everyone at the party." She blushed. "I...you should go, James." "Yes," he said, moving to her. "I probably should. But I don't want to go—and I don't think you want me to go, either." James pulled her gently to her feet and took her hand. Before she could react he was dancing with her, moving around the kitchen while humming one of the songs they'd danced to at the party. She wanted to tell him to stop, or just pull away from him; but it felt terrific to be in his arms. She let her eyes close, and kept dancing. After a few minutes, James stopped, took Andrea's face in his two hands, looked directly into her eyes, and kissed her. She froze, feeling his lips on hers, then pulled away in shock. They looked at one another, neither one speaking. Then James leaned forward and kissed her again. The second kiss lasted longer, and before it ended Andrea was tightly in his arms, and his tongue was exploring in her mouth. It seemed to happen so fast that she didn't have time to think about what she was doing. All she was aware of was the feeling of his lips, his arms around her, his erection pushing into her belly. When James broke the kiss it was only to pick her up and seat her on the kitchen counter, whereupon he spread her legs apart and stepped forward between them to kiss her again. "James, I...we...can't..." He waited, looking at her with desire obvious on her face; but Andrea didn't know how to finish the sentence. Then his lips were on hers again, and she groaned as his tongue returned to her mouth. James stroked and caressed her as they kissed. His hands gently touched her breasts, first through her blouse and then slipping up underneath her bra to tease her already-hard nipples. It was midsummer, so when his hand touched her knee and slid upwards he had no pantyhose to contend with, just a delicate pair of panties. He stroked and tickled her pussy through the panties, feeling her wetness, feeling her hips begin to move in response to his caresses. By now Andrea had her arms tightly around James's neck, pulling him closer, and was groaning with pleasure into his mouth. The thought of stopping him seemed to have disappeared from her mind. In a few minutes more Andrea was soaking wet and breathing heavily. Without a word James pulled her towards him and picked her up under her butt, carrying her towards the stairs with her legs wrapped around his back. He found the master bedroom, gently set her down on the bed, lay down beside her and resumed his caresses. In retrospect, Andrea thought the next morning, this is when she might have stopped him—SHOULD have stopped him. Her head had cleared slightly as he carried her, and she recalled with shame that she had said to herself, "not in our bedroom". But she had done nothing to stop James, and once his hands renewed their exploration of her body she quit thinking entirely. James's foreplay was tender and patient. He managed to get Andrea's and his own clothes off without ever stopping his touching and kissing. Once they were both naked he lay pressed against her side, his lips tantalizing her nipples while his fingers foraged inside her, emerging sometimes to transfer the wetness from her pussy to her aching clit. He skillfully brought her closer and closer to orgasm. Andrea could remember her breath coming in moans, her hips rolling as she waited for him to finish her. When Andrea felt as though she were only seconds from exploding, James slipped on top of her. His hard cock felt like hot steel as he slowly pushed his way inside her. When he was all the way in he pressed his groin against her, rotating his hips slowly to put pressure on her clit, and within seconds Andrea was wailing and pumping at him as her orgasm overwhelmed her. James stopped, and the couple savored the feeling of one another's bodies in silence. When he felt that Andrea had relaxed from her climax he began to thrust. It was gentle and careful at first, but gradually James's patience left him and his strokes became faster and more powerful. Andrea had felt totally drained after her first orgasm; yet to her shock after several minutes she could feel another climax approaching. James's regular, unrelenting thrusts took her higher, higher, and finally she screamed as she came again, tightening her fingers frantically against the muscles of his back. A few moments later James shot into her with a roar, pushing desperately over and over as he unloaded his cum. James rolled off next to Andrea and pulled her close; they lay together in silence as their excitement ebbed. Had she been sober, she would undoubtedly have been overwhelmed by guilt. But at that moment, she just felt drained and satisfied. It hadn't been cosmic sex—it hadn't been the greatest sex of her life, or better than what she had with Peter. But it had been terrific! "I feel fantastic!", she said to herself, and within minutes she was asleep. She awoke in the middle of the night, still somewhat drunk. She was on her side, and James was behind her, spooning her, his cock once again erect and buried inside her. His hands gently caressed her breasts. It felt good, and she moaned gently to let him know she was awake. Without a word spoken, James began thrusting into her. This was a slow, dreamy fuck. Andrea wasn't even sure if she was awake the whole time; she didn't climb towards orgasm, but just enjoyed the pleasure he was giving her. She felt him accelerate, felt his breath coming faster against the back of her neck, and felt the spasms in his cock as he came into her again. Then she drifted back to sleep. When Andrea awoke again it was nearly 10am, and she was alone. She started awake in a panic, instantly remembering the previous night. Oh My God! she thought. What have I done? Where is James? What the hell am I going to do now? The bed was empty, and James's clothes were gone. She grabbed her robe and raced downstairs, to find a fresh pot of coffee and a brief note. * * * * "Andrea: Thank you for a magical night. It was one of the most special, most wonderful things that has ever happened to me. You are so beautiful and sexy, and loving you was like a dream come true. "I didn't want to embarrass or upset you by being here when you awoke today. I will be back at my hotel (here he left the phone number) until later this afternoon. I would love to see you again, but if you would prefer not I completely understand. "Of course I will never speak about this to Diana or anyone. But it will always be a perfect memory for me. "Fondly, James" * * * * Andrea sat back in her chair. She realized how relieved she was, and how grateful for James's considerateness and delicacy. She did NOT want to see him again, then or ever! And facing him that morning would have been a torment. James had been aggressive, but Andrea knew she couldn't blame him for taking advantage of her. She'd been tipsy, yes—but she'd also been very turned-on. There had been several chances for her to stop him, and she hadn't taken them. Thank God, thank God, thank God she was on the pill! Sitting there in her bathrobe, feeling her tangled hair, aware of the stickiness on her pussy and thighs, Andrea was overcome by a wave of guilt. She loved her husband—in fact, she adored him! How could she have done this to him? And what the hell was she going to do now? ********************** By the time Peter got home, at about 8pm on Monday, Andrea had turned her guilt into action. She'd showered away every trace of James; she'd changed the sheets and aired out the bedroom; she'd cleaned up the house; she'd left work early on Monday and cooked Peter's favorite chicken dish for their dinner; and she'd pulled the sexiest of her sexy nighties out of the back of her underwear drawer. She thought that wearing it while she greeted him at the door would be a bit too obvious, and she was terrified that he'd realize she was feeling guilty. Andrea had decided that the only thing she could do was to forget about her night with James, never tell Peter or anyone else about it, and devote herself to making it up to him. Why hurt Peter needlessly? She would be the best, most loving wife in the world, and he'd reap the benefits of her terrible mistake. So the dinner was on the table with a cover on to keep it hot, and the nightie was hanging in the master bathroom for later, when a weary Peter got out of the cab and trudged towards his front door. He was greeted by a rapturous hug from Andrea. She kissed him, murmured how much she'd missed him and how glad she was to see him, kissed him again, and drew him into the kitchen. Peter was very tired, but smiled broadly at the sight of the beautiful dinner laid out before him, the wine-glasses, the special napkins. "All this for just another business trip? Thank you sweetie—I never expected such a lovely welcome." Andrea blushed a little, but said only, "I...just missed you something extra this time, baby. And I wanted to make sure you know how much I need you." They enjoyed their meal, with Andrea listening to Peter's stories of his trip, the successes and the frustrations, his hopes for the contacts he made. Usually his trips ended on Fridays; but occasionally, like this time, he'd had to stay over in Denver for an important client meeting on Monday. She made sure he had plenty to eat and plenty of wine; and when they'd finished their dessert she said, "grab that bag and come upstairs with me, honey. I can see you're exhausted." Peter kicked off his shoes and collapsed on the bed, lying comfortably on his back. Andrea said "I'll be just a minute," and disappeared into the bathroom. He was well on his way towards sleep when she emerged, but his eyes opened wide at the sight of her. The nightie's transparent panels only pretended to hide her nipples, and the bush of her pubic hair was clearly visible through the thin black material. Peter smiled broadly, and said, "it sure is good to be home!" He sat up and started to unbutton his shirt, but Andrea gently pushed him back down, murmuring, "let me, baby—you just relax." She made the job of getting Peter's clothes off a sensual pleasure, stroking each part of him as it emerged from his clothes. By the time he was naked Peter had an erection that felt like a steel pipe. Grinning at him, Andrea began to tease, sliding her breasts over Peter's chest, running her hands around his cock and balls, occasionally slipping up to give him long, sweet kisses, her tongue ravishing his mouth. Then she settled down to a loving blowjob; but it wasn't long before Peter was desperate to come, his hips jerking almost uncontrollably, his breathing heavy. "Jesus, Andy, let me get inside you!" he croaked. With a smile she straddled his hips, pulled her nightie up out of the way, and eased herself down on his straining cock. She groaned with pleasure—it had never felt so big and hard before! Their lovemaking didn't last very long because Peter was so excited, and Andrea didn't have time to come before he exploded into her, but it still left her feeling as happy as she'd ever been. They cuddled together, quietly speaking words of love to one another, and in minutes Peter was fast asleep. Andrea was relieved and serene—sure of Peter's love for her, sure that she had re-connected with him and shown him how much she loved him, sure that her horrible mistake was firmly in the past. For the next couple of days Peter continued to find himself treated like a king at home: his favorite dinners, a wife going out of her way to be playful and loving and sexy. Tuesday night in bed was a more energetic repeat of Monday, with a lengthy 69; and on Wednesday they didn't make love but cuddled together, watching an old Humphrey Bogart movie on TV that Andrea knew was one of Peter's favorites. He went off to work each day with a big smile on his face and the feeling of Andrea's sweet kiss on his lips. ************************ It was Thursday at 1:27pm when it all fell apart. Peter was in a sales meeting that, even by the standards of sales meetings, was boring beyond belief. He'd been going to these for four years and the droning speeches, the exhortations and the warnings from top management never changed. Usually he passed the time by selecting and re-selecting his all-time baseball All-Star team. Yogi Berra or Johnny Bench behind the plate? And how could he omit Joe D in center field—but what then would he do with Willie Mays, move him to left? Because Babe Ruth HAD to be in right field.... Today, though, he was daydreaming about Andrea. Boy, had she been a firecracker this week! Ever since he got home from Denver, she'd been feeding him and loving him and fucking him like a champ! It was almost as if.... Peter cut off his thoughts suddenly, as if too terrified by what the rest of the sentence would bring. But he couldn't stop the words from leaking into his consciousness: "...as if she were feeling guilty about something." All awareness of the sales meeting now gone, Peter considered what might be making Andrea guilty, and his mind leapt almost instantaneously to the worst mistake of his life: the time two years earlier when he'd been unfaithful to her, on a business trip to Phoenix. He mentally replayed the terrible guilt and remorse he had felt, and the way he had come home two days later determined to make it up to Andrea. He'd taken her to her favorite restaurant for a surprise dinner, he'd bought a stunning aquamarine bracelet and given it to her the next weekend—pretending he had gotten it on his trip—and in general he'd given her all the devotion, affection and consideration he could manage. He'd done so much, in fact, that after a week Peter was suddenly terrified that Andrea might suspect something, so he'd toned it down. He left his dirty socks on the floor, and did a couple of other trivial but inconsiderate things, just enough he hoped so that Andrea would feel he was still the same imperfect husband she'd married. Now, Peter's mind was spinning. If Andrea had done some small thing she felt bad about, like putting a dent in the car or splurging on a dress, she would have confessed by now, especially after the last few days of softening him up. So it had to be something pretty terrible, something she intended never to tell him about...and he could only think of one thing it could be. Suddenly Peter was aware that the room had fallen silent. He looked up and saw everyone gazing towards him expectantly. Ron from accounting spoke. "I said, do those figures seem about right, Peter?" Peter's stomach heaved without warning, and he knew he was going to be sick. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, "it must be something I ate for lunch," and without pausing he ran out the door of the conference room and into the men's room. Within seconds the remains of his most recent meal left his stomach as he retched into one of the toilets. Guilty It was more than twenty minutes before his stomach calmed down enough for him to stagger to his feet, wash his face, and leave the men's room. The meeting had broken up. Peter retrieved his papers, left them on his desk, and told the Sales Department secretary he was going home for the afternoon. Julie looked at him sympathetically and said, "I hope it's nothing serious, Peter. You do look a little green around the edges!" Peter found that he had to force himself to concentrate on his driving. Twice the light changed without his noticing, and drivers behind him made sure that their horns were working properly. All that filled his mind was the most terrible, most upsetting image he'd ever experienced: Andrea beneath another man in the act of love, sighing and moaning, rolling her hips up at him, kissing him deeply, then coming explosively. When he got home Peter went straight to the bedroom and stripped, leaving his clothes on the floor. He quickly brushed his teeth to get the sour taste out of his mouth, then headed for bed. He was exhausted. But his thoughts and fears wouldn't let him rest. The image of Andrea with another man tormented him, and before long he was weeping, unable to control the feelings of loss and pain that welled up in him. Peter knew that he had done the same thing—that he was as guilty as he now believed Andrea was. He also knew, from his own much-regretted infidelity, how easy it was to find yourself in bed with a stranger. And he knew that it in no way changed the overwhelming affection he felt for his wife. Presumably she still loved him as much as ever, or why the royal treatment ever since his return? But these rational thoughts scarcely stood a chance against his pain. Seeing Andrea's ecstasy while another man pumped into her, the images playing like a nightmarish porn film inside his head, made it hard to focus on anything else. Peter had a long, miserable hour before he finally managed to sleep. When he awoke it was nearly 5:30. Andrea would be home soon—and he had to decide how he was going to handle the situation. As he rapidly re-made the bed, hung up his clothes and jumped into the shower, Peter realized that he wasn't yet ready to confront her. By the time he was drying himself off, he knew that he'd have to dissemble for a couple of days, play the loving and unsuspecting husband until he'd worked out a plan. The next 36 hours were among the strangest in their marriage. A husband and wife, both very much in love, both secretly tormented by their private thoughts, treating one another with great affection. Yet both were uncomfortable, and guilty, about their dissembling. It was actually far worse for Peter. Andrea still excoriated herself in private for what she had done with James, but she was comforted by two thoughts. First, she knew that she would never, ever cheat on Peter again. It had been a momentary thrill, but an utterly trivial pleasure compared with the guilt and remorse she felt afterwards—the phrase "just not worth it" captured her feelings perfectly. Second, she was increasingly sure that everything was fine between her and her husband. Their bond seemed tighter than ever this week, as he responded to her expressions of affection and sexual desire with similar affection and eagerness. Peter, though, was in agony. Pretending that he was fine was the hardest thing he'd ever done—harder even than concealing his guilt after his own fling. He couldn't stop imagining Andrea with her anonymous lover, and the awareness of his own conduct didn't prevent him from suffering terrible feelings of hurt and betrayal. Had the other man been better-hung than he was, a more exciting lover? Had he made Andrea wish she'd married someone else, or just that she could fuck the guy again? For that matter, how could Peter know that she'd only strayed once? Could this possibly be a continuing affair, despite her obvious love for her husband? Or was it not really love at all—just guilt, or pity, or an apology for cuckolding him? By Saturday afternoon, his moodiness and worry exceeded his ability to conceal it, and Andrea asked him about it over lunch. "What's bothering you, Peter? Usually when you have something on your mind you just say it—but I can see that something is rattling around in there." She smiled fondly at him as she spoke. Andrea had no concern that what was bothering her husband had anything to do with her indiscretion—the loving week they'd had together had relieved her mind of that worry. Peter gazed at her, his heart full of love, guilt, pain, and worry. He'd been waiting for the perfect time to have this awful conversation. It didn't feel so perfect to him now, but he realized there wasn't much point in waiting. He looked at her and spoke gently. "Was this the first time you cheated on me?" Andrea looked at him in shock. "Peter, I...I don't know what you're talking about!" He just smiled, so sweetly and so sadly that tears came to her eyes. "Honey, you don't have to lie to me. That would be the worst thing of all. Let's just talk about what happened, OK?" Suddenly she was sobbing, her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry! I didn't....it...I never meant to do it, Peter! It was just once, I swear, one stupid mistake last Saturday night. "I'd give anything to take it back, anything not to hurt you." She cried into her hands, and when Peter came around the kitchen table to hold her, stroking her hair gently, she just cried harder. It was several minutes before she could calm down a little, and catch her breath. She looked up at him, very afraid; then shocked to see him smiling sadly, not glaring at her in fury. "I understand more than you think I do, honey," he said, quietly. Then, taking her hand, "why don't we go sit in the living room and talk?" Feeling numb, empty and afraid, she allowed Peter to lead her to the living room and get her settled on the couch. He pulled up a chair and sat across from her. Leaning forward, he took her hand again. "Before we go any further, I have to tell you something. I love you far too much to pretend I'm morally superior. About two years ago in Phoenix I had a one-night stand. Since then I have regretted it with every part of me. I came home, determined to just forget it and to make you the happiest wife in the world. "And I would never have mentioned it, until...until now. But it's not fair to let you think you're the only guilty party." Andrea began to cry. "I...I don't believe this. Peter, how could you do this to me? I love you so much, and..." Suddenly the absurdity of her resentment struck her, and she cried harder. Without warning she leapt up from the couch and ran for the stairs. Peter cried out, "honey, wait!" but she ignored him. In a minute he could hear the bedroom door slam, and he sighed heavily. After a few minutes he went back into the kitchen, picked up the rest of his lunch, and took it outside to a chair in the backyard. When he finished eating he just stared out at the dogwood trees, trying hard to think about nothing. ************************ After about an hour he heard the back door open, and Andrea pulled up a chair to sit facing him. She had washed her face and brushed her hair, but her eyes were red and she still looked terribly upset. "Peter, I.... I'm just so sorry. I love you, and I'm so very sorry." "I know," he said, and took her hand. "I love you too—and believe me, I'm sorry too, for all of it." They were silent, and then he pulled her onto his lap, where she burrowed her head against his neck and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "How are we ever going to get past this?" she whispered. "Two ways," he replied quietly. "Talking, and making love. Lots of both, I think—in either order." She pulled away to look into his eyes, and said, "I just can't...make love yet, Peter. It's too soon, and my head is full of pictures of you with...whoever it was in Phoenix. "Was she beautiful? Were her tits bigger than mine, did she turn you on more than I do?" Suddenly Andrea was crying again, and he held her close, stroking her hair. "How could you do it?" she cried. "How could you...just jump into some other woman's bed. Don't you know how much I adore you? "God, I know I sound like an idiot, Peter, given what I did, but I can't help it! Thinking about you with someone else is tearing me apart!" Then she cried harder, while he held her, comforting her with little murmurs, feeling her pain and his own. Smiling to himself at how ridiculous their situation was. ************************ "Let me tell you about Phoenix first, okay? There actually isn't too much to tell." They were still in the backyard, sitting side-by-side in two chairs, and Andrea was clutching his hand tightly. She just nodded, her eyes fixed on his face. "It was after a routine sales meeting with Tychron. I had dinner with two of their usual guys, the ones I always do business with, and they'd brought along a new colleague named Noelle, so that she could learn about our contract with them. "The meeting had gone exceptionally well—I was authorized to provide a 10% discount on our stuff since this was our fourth contract with them, and they realized that they would look good to their superior in the purchasing department, so we were all feeling cheerful. We went to a very nice restaurant, and had three bottles of wine or so. "So we were all pretty high, and for no reason I can figure out Noelle seems to have decided I was attractive. As we had dessert and coffee she started sliding her bare foot up and down my leg under the table. I was completely shocked—and I tried to ignore it, but I didn't want to say anything in front of Michael and Ted. Then when they got ready to leave Noelle said she would stay a little longer—she wanted to learn more from me about our business, and how the previous contracts had been structured. "All of a sudden we were alone, sitting side-by-side in this nice restaurant, and now Noelle had a hand on my knee! I reminded her I was a married man and asked her to stop. But she just grinned, and said she was 'only playing'." Peter glanced at Andrea, but she remained silent, looking at him very seriously. "The rest is pretty predictable. I wanted to get out of there—I was aroused and pretty tipsy, but I knew I couldn't do anything with Noelle. She volunteered to give me a ride to my hotel, and when we got there she parked and walked right in with me. "I'm so sorry, Andrea—I...I had every opportunity to stop her. It would have been easy, though I would have had to be pretty forceful. But...I just didn't. "We got up to my room, and in five minutes we were naked and fucking on the bed." Andrea knew this was where the story was headed all along—but actually hearing it still hurt. "Was she good? Was she better than I am? Younger and sexier and hotter?" Tears showed on her cheeks. "No, baby." Peter took her hand and kissed it. "It was drunken, thoroughly ordinary sex. It was exciting, because it was someone new and she was really into it. But as soon as we were done I felt terrible—awful! She wanted to cuddle, and stay for a while and do it again later, but I felt too guilty. I know it pissed her off, but I got her to get dressed and leave after a few minutes." "And then I cursed myself, spent the rest of that weekend feeling like shit, and flew home determined to make it up to you. To be the best husband in the world, someone worthy of you. And never to breathe a word of it." They sat for a minute, and Andrea said, "that's what I decided too. 'I did this awful thing—but I won't make it worse by letting Peter know and hurting him so deeply. I'll just love him to death, and make it up to him'." "Can you tell me about it now? You said it was Saturday night. God forbid it was someone we know, from Diana's party?" Andrea quickly told him the whole story, watching fearfully as Peter looked away from her and his jaw tightened. When she was done she just waited. Finally he turned back to her. "Sounds like it was pretty hot, babe," he said in a cold voice. "Too bad he doesn't live closer than LA, so you could get another crack at him." Andrea jumped to her feet, pulling her hand away from his. "That's not fair!" she cried. "I told you it wasn't anything so special! It was sex, damn it—sex like you and that slut Noelle had. And it was fun and I enjoyed it, Peter! "I was drunk and being with someone else was exciting and yes, he made me come! So what—Noelle made you come, didn't she? "And I've felt like shit ever since then, and done everything I could think of to show you how much I love you and want you. James has got nothing you don't have, Peter! And he doesn't have me, either—you do! Unless you don't want me any more..." Her voice trailed off into silence, and they sat some time without speaking, turned a little away from one another, both lost in their own thoughts. At last Peter turned to her, and forced a smile. She could see the traces of a few tears on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, baby," he said. "You are absolutely right. "It's just that...well, I can't help having two feelings. They're all jumbled up in my head, and it's hard to sort them out. "The first is the pain of knowing that another man got to...to love you. I can't stop seeing you with him, imagining your pleasure, seeing you kissing him, holding him—seeing him fucking you, turning you on." He got up and started to pace. "It just tears me up—and it frightens me. What if you decide that other men are really what you need? What if...what if I'm not enough for you any more?" She got up and went to her husband, silently putting her arms around his waist from behind and pressing herself against him—offering a wordless answer. "The second feeling, of course, is that I'm just as guilty as you—I did it too. And I of all people know now how easy it is to make that mistake. I wouldn't have thought I could be tempted into such a goddam stupid thing, but I was; and I fell." Still holding him, she said, "Peter, I swear to you that you're all the man I want. You said you felt terrible after...after fucking Noelle? Well it took me a little longer—until the next morning. Maybe I was drunker than you. "But nobody has ever felt worse that I did that morning! And if you have any fears that this will happen again, trust me—now that I've been through both sides of this, my own guilt and then imagining you with somebody else—all I can say is, never again. Never never never." ************************ They took a walk around the neighborhood, Andrea's arm linked through Peter's, strolling slowly, not talking. Occasionally she'd squeeze his arm with her hand, or he'd stop for a moment and kiss her hair. When they got back to the house it was nearly dinnertime. Andrea said, "how about cheese and bread, and some soup?" Peter nodded, and without speaking further, they moved smoothly around the kitchen. Peter got out some cheese they both liked, and sliced the French bread. He opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. Andrea got the homemade soup from earlier in the week out of the refrigerator and heated it up. They sat side-by-side at the kitchen table, eating and smiling at one another, neither of them feeling the need to say anything. When they were done, Andrea put the dishes in the sink while Peter corked the wine. Then, without a word being said, they took each other's hand and headed for the bedroom. Making love was tentative at first, a little careful. Peter could see Andrea was nervous, and he himself had more trouble getting an erection than usual. It seemed like it might all go wrong, until Peter said, "why don't we just get under the covers and cuddle?" They lay together for a while, Peter on his back, Andrea on her side nestled tightly into his body, both of them half-asleep, enjoying one another's warmth. When Peter began to touch her he went slowly, tracing circles on her back with his hand, then sliding down to her hip, her thigh, and back up again. After a few minutes he gently rolled her onto her back, and turned on his side next to her. Kissing her lips, her cheek, her ear, her neck, he caressed her breasts gently with his hand, taking his time, waiting for the little sounds of pleasure to come from her throat. Later, he slid down to suckle her nipples, while his hand strayed between her legs, caressing her moist pussy and teasing her clit. He built the excitement slowly, enjoying her occasional groans and sighs, feeling her hands tighten in his hair as she got more aroused. He didn't stop when her breathing got heavy, and kept stroking her gently as her orgasm crested with a series of explosive gasps. She jerked and spasmed, and he held her tightly in his arms. After more than a minute, she lay quietly, and opened her eyes to smile up at him. Her face was relaxed, happy. She pulled his head down to hers for a long, deep kiss, then gently pushed him down on his back. Using both her hands, she caressed his chest and arms, then his belly, his thighs, and finally his cock and balls. She lay with her head on his chest, as her teasing fingers brought his cock to a throbbing hardness. Then she threw back the covers and pulled him up on top of her. "Be inside me now, baby," she said. He entered her slowly, groaning with the pleasure of her heat, and felt her thighs press tight against his hips. At first he held himself up on his elbows and they watched one another's eyes, enjoyed each other's excitement as he stroked in and out. But as Peter got more excited, he lay fully on top of her, his head buried against her neck. Their motions accelerated, and he felt her hips pushing back harder against him with each thrust into her. Peter knew he couldn't last much longer, and he could hear that Andrea was close too. She clutched him tight, and he heard her say, "you, baby, only you!" His orgasm shot through him, and in his ecstasy of pleasure he could feel her coming as well, her body twisting and heaving beneath him. They lay on their sides, pressed close together. Andrea pulled back far enough to look into Peter's face, seeing the same peaceful, happy expression she felt on her own face. She kissed him, gently; then smiled at him and nestled her head back into his shoulder. They slept. Guilty Many thanks to "Snooker70" and "SexyGeek" for helping me to improve the plot, making suggestions and checking my grammar and spelling. As always - if you enjoy seeing burning bitches or lengthy sex scenes, choose another author. xx "Mr. Walters, please. This leak... it´s driving us crazy and we have a lot of work to do tonight. You know - quite important work. We... we really need this to be fixed urgently. Please, we´ll pay you 50 bucks extra if you can come today." That´s how it started. It seemed innocent enough, just my usual work. The little voice in my head, screaming, "Don´t do it! Stay away from there!" could not be heard for some reason. Just some innocent dude, being a little too desperate over some minor leak. It seemed like a simple enough job for me, being a GWS man. Gas, water, shit, more commonly known as plumber. One who took his job seriously. When a customer in need was calling, it was almost as impossible for me to turn him down as it would have been to grow a third thumb. Which I had never managed to, although it might have been helpful from time to time. So I was already on my way to help him. Okay, maybe I was a little too indulgent at the time. The problem was that Megan surely wouldn´t be pleased to learn that I was about to ruin yet another evening. My plumbing business eats up too much of my time I should have spent with her. But hell, we could need these 50 bucks for sure. Life as an independent plumber was not always easy and the bills kept coming. So all in all it was a no-brainer. "Okay, okay, Mr. Johnson. Calm down. I´ll come around immediately." It always felt good to help customers in need. "Thanks, man. You won´t regret it." I just hoped he was right. So I entered this quite upscale house I had never been in before at about 6 p.m., at a time I usually was having dinner with my beautiful wife and my beloved sixteen year old daughter Lara. To say that Megan was pleased about the call announcing my delay would have been exaggerated, but she at least agreed that we could use the 50 bucks. My mood was noticeably improved upon having avoided the medium sized shit storm I had expected. Maybe I´d use the 50 bucks to take her to a fancy dinner. My lady surely deserved it. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Walters. Here´s your 50 bucks." Whoa, payment in advance? What was happening here? "The leak is over here." What he showed me didn´t exactly mark the peak challenge for my plumber´s craftsmanship. To be blunt, it was almost too easy to fix. Any man with at least one right hand would have fixed this within minutes. So I decided I might have to spend a few minutes extra to avoid the guy feeling cheated for having paid 50 bucks. In hindsight, I should have taken my tools and just run. "Okay, I think I will need about an hour for this. Maybe less." "Sure, thanks again." The guy seemed nice enough, a little nervous maybe. However, the whole situation in the house seemed rather strange. Three other guys and two women sat in the living room. Apart from watching me enter and being a little nervous, they obviously did nothing at all. They didn´t drink, they didn´t talk, they just sat there. It looked a little like at a doctor's waiting room. And neither their looks nor the smell indicated that they were that desperately in need of a shower or that any other hygienic emergency justified my immediate presence. These six folks were somehow mismatched and I had the impression that none of them were a couple. I even asked myself if any of them actually lived here. The house looked a little like a furniture store, neat as a pin but somehow uninhabited. But that's none of my business, I thought. My business was to fix this small leak without letting them know how ridiculous the task was. So I began to work and was almost finished when I heard some aggressive shouting and loud banging from the living room. I got up and left the bathroom with an alligator wrench still in my hand to see if someone needed help. To my surprise the living room seemed to be filled with smoke, but it didn´t smell like fire. I was still trying to get a grip on what was going on when I was shoved forwards violently from behind and banged painfully on the floor. My tool flew from my hand and my arms were roughly jerked backwards. "FREEZE! POLICE!" And with these kind words from a friendly SWAT team officer, uttered while he comfortably rested his knee on my back, the life I knew and loved came to a sudden end. xx I experienced the following hours in a kind of stupefied daze, like I was watching a 3D horror movie in superb quality that had nothing to do with my life. While I was still on the floor with my face in some debris, someone read me my rights like they do in the movies. He gave me a less than friendly kick in the shoulder to obtain my confirmation. I just nodded and was hauled by two guys into the back of a squad car. Nobody really cared about my head banging on the doorframe. Yes, I immediately knew that I was in good hands. Somehow I had the feeling that participating handcuffed in a heavyweight boxing fight would have been a gentler experience. Hell, even a car accident might have been more comfortable than the rough treatment I was receiving. On the way to somewhere I was still coughing from the smoke grenade, which caused not a single shit to be given by the officers. I had to wonder if all arrests were that horrible or if I was receiving some kind of special treatment. After we had reached our destination, I was roughly yanked out of the car, pushed through some shabby corridors and shoved into an absurdly empty prison cell. The interior consisted of - well - nothing, really. The stainless steel thing on the wall obviously served as a washbowl and toilet combination and didn´t impress my professional plumbing interest at all. The bed was - well, if this was the bed - just a projection on a wall. These were the things included in my new luxury home. The list of what wasn't included was a whole lot longer. A usable window, bed sheets, a mattress, a shower, a mirror, clothing, soap, someone to talk to, answers to my questions. What was I doing here? That was the one on top of my list. I had done nothing wrong. I was certain that the mix-up would be clarified quickly. I mean, I could rely on our justice system, couldn't I? This was not North Korea, where one could be imprisoned or prejudged without evidence, right? xx Well, it wasn't clarified quickly. I waited for what seemed an endless time in this damn cell, worried shitless, torturing myself with grim visions of my own future. The miniscule window just under the ceiling told me that it was night by now. I really should be at home with my beautiful wife and my daughter now, enjoying a meal after a hard day's work, looking forward to some necking and maybe sex with Megan. Something was totally wrong here - I wasn't supposed to stare at the dirty walls of an empty cell. Somehow the space-time continuum had ruptured. This was not supposed to happen in my life. My problem was: there was no one present to listen to my objections. Finally, after many worried hours, I must have fallen asleep. I woke up, feeling even worse. Which surprised me as I had assumed that I couldn't feel any lower that I had the night before. After a while, a small hatch was opened and a tray was shoved inside. Based on the time of the day, I guessed that this was meant to be breakfast. The problem was - it didn´t look like that. Not at all. But I realized that I was desperately hungry and wolfed everything down. To my surprise, it didn´t even taste bad. It didn´t taste at all. The texture of the stuff didn´t help to clarify what I was actually eating. After a few more hours of worries and growing desperation, I was led into some kind of interrogation room by two officers and was chained to a bolted chair. None of them seemed to be inclined to listen to my concerns. Finally, a guy in a cheap suit entered. "Hi, my name is Larry Sanders. I'm your attorney." I felt bad about it, but my cuffs prevented me from offering my hand. But the disgusted way he looked at me led me to the guess that he could live with that discourtesy quite well. "Why am I here?" No need to beat about the bush. That was the question I desperately needed to be answered. I noticed that he didn´t offer to be on first name terms. "Well, your group was busted." "My group? What group?" "Yeah, your child pornographer group." "WHAT?" "Calm down, please." "Man... Hey... I'm just a plumber. A group? That´s... These guys called me to fix their leak." "Well, it sure looks different." He looked at me almost smugly. Hey, wasn't he supposed to be on my side? "A whole bunch of evidence was found. And you were the only armed suspect during the arrest." "What? Armed? I had my pliers with me. I'm a plumber." "Okay, we can try this strategy. I'm not sure if you will convince anyone with this. But it´s your decision." "I don't believe it. I mean... Hey... What would you suggest?" "Confess." "But I can't. I've done nothing wrong." "Your choice." He seemed like he didn´t really give a single shit. Okay, it was clear that even my attorney didn´t believe a single word. My feeling of dread was reaching record-worthy levels. "You see, this is a big thing out there. Everybody is talking about it. Every TV station, every newspaper. You're famous now. Many people want to kill or castrate you. You will certainly not be allowed to have contact with other inmates. Child molesters don't live long in here." "Child... What? Oh my god." Hearing that word made me feel sick. "Yes, sadly." "Hey... Can I call my wife?" "I don't know. I will try. They will want to interrogate you first." "Okay." "But don't be surprised. The whole media coverage includes your name and your photo. The commentators and talk show hosts are really in hunter-killer mode currently. It might not be fair, but it´s what the audience wants to hear right now. In case of hurt children the society tends to be a little uncaring. Your family's feelings towards you might have cooled down a little. Quite a lot, actually." "Oh god. I don't believe it... What a complete nightmare." xx The following hours were filled with endless interrogations. I was fed up with the accusations, the cops were annoyed with me sticking to my "ridiculous" plumber story. "Man, you're toast anyway. Get your head out of your ass and shorten your sentence by confessing." I had heard that argument countless times by then and my answer was still the same. "I won´t confess something I haven't done." "Your choice, asshole. You're just digging your hole deeper and that's totally okay with me. Here´s your phone. We will leave you alone for 30 minutes. Use the time wisely. But don't expect too much," he chuckled. He un-cuffed one hand, gave me the fully charged mobile phone and the whole bunch left the room. Yes, finally! My phone. The chance to talk to my family. To set things straight. To tell them that this was just a huge misunderstanding. To just hear their friendly voices. To plan how to proceed with this mess. Yes! Finally. So I frantically speed dialed Megan first. She was the most important one, I desperately needed to talk with her. Lara would be next. Maybe I´d even have a little time left to talk to my parents. That would be great. They would be glad to hear my voice and to learn what had really happened. It rang a few times. Megan, come on, we don't have much time. Then suddenly my call was blocked. This was not her voice mail, she had actively rejected my call. I was totally shocked. What did that mean? Was there a technical problem maybe? But I already guessed the truth and the thought frightened me. Had she already given up on me? That quickly? Without me being convicted? Hell, I hadn't even been officially charged, I was just a suspect. And she hadn't even talked to me a single word. Had I just been dumped that quickly and unceremoniously in my darkest hour? A knot was forming in my guts and my eyes started to water. I kind of zoned out and just looked at my own situation. I was sitting in an almost empty interrogation room, wearing an orange suit. One of my hands was cuffed to the chair. The walls were dirty, cameras were everywhere. My fingernails were dirty. The lampshade was broken. The world seemed to have agreed that I was a child molester. People I didn´t know were convinced I was. The love of my life obviously was. And the worst thing - I didn´t even know what exactly had been done to these children. Okay, man, calm down, I thought. You have more options. You have a daughter that adores you. And it usually took less than two seconds for her to respond to a text message at any given time, 24/7. So that was the route to follow. I sent Lara a text message. Although she didn´t have to respond, it at least couldn't be blocked. "Lara, please. This is just a misunderstanding. I'm innocent. I need to talk to mom. Urgently. I don't have much time." Her reply was quick and devastating. "You're not my dad any more, asshole. I'm not your daughter any more. Never contact me again. And the last thing mom wants is to talk to you again. Ever. Don´t call her again." Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. A cold chill ran down my spine. I wasn't aware that it was possible to lose a loving family that quickly without having done anything wrong. But it obviously was. I subconsciously checked the room for suicide options, but of course there were none. Even if I hadn't been cuffed to the chair. No, Curt, don't give up. They will see the truth sooner or later. Be strong. You will get them back. Don´t do anything foolish now. Okay, think. Yes, mom and dad. My parents. They will talk to me. I didn´t know why, but it was supremely important for me to talk to somebody. To find someone that believed me. I would be going mad otherwise. I needed to tell my story to someone that didn´t reject it right away. That was willing to listen with an open mind. "Yes?" My dad's voice was stone cold. I had never heard him like that, even after I had dented his new car with my bike after my eleventh birthday. "Dad. I'm so glad to talk to you. You have to..." "Shut up, piece of shit. You're not our son any more. Brenda agrees with this. We never want to speak to you again. Don´t call us again." And with that he just hung up. What? My own parents? A chill ran down my spine again. This was a complete nightmare. But I had not much hope to wake up in the foreseeable future. Okay, Tim. He was my best friend since grade school. I just needed some form of support. Any form of support. Even Tim would have to do. "Tim..." "Don´t ever call me again, asshole." And with that he just hung up too. This whole thing started terrible and was getting worse quickly. Okay, one last shot. Jane and Alan, our good friends. "Fuck off! Eat shit and die!" was all I got to hear from Alan. I leaned back and took stock. Suddenly I was surprisingly calm. I was totally alone. It was just me and the rest of the world. There was no one out there that cared for me any more and no one I had to care for. The thought made me incredibly sad. I was totally unsure about my feelings towards my ex family. I had loved them dearly only a few minutes ago. Now I had learned that they had dropped me incredibly quickly. Was I able to change my feelings about them just as quick? I was too confused, sad and overwhelmed to answer this. But I did my best not to cry as the officer took my phone away again. No need to give him this satisfaction. "Not much luck, hm? Was to be expected. Can't say that I feel any sympathy for you." I began to understand why my cell was so empty. Suicide was tempting and I certainly wasn't the only one to contemplate this route. But it seemed important for the government to prevent this and to prevent escape from the designated route of justice this way. But as much as my life seemed to be one big pile of hopeless misery, this didn´t seem to be the route for me anyway. There was still a glimmer of hope that this mess would be clarified. But what then? How would I face a family that had abandoned me that quickly? How were my feelings towards them? xx There was a hearing shortly afterwards and it turned out as the complete nightmare I had anticipated. Obviously, some kids were held captive in that house and a movie was just about to be shot. Several adults, including me, were present. None of them was involved with the kids at the time of the arrest and the kids couldn´t identify any of them. So it was just assumed that we were all involved in some way or other. All of the suspects, including me, came up with some story how they were just present by concidence. They could only release all of us or no one. Given the public opinion at the moment, the first option was quickly ruled out by the judge. xx The following weeks were spent like this: 99 percent rotting away in my empty cell, staring at the walls or the ceiling, appreciating every dirty spot or interesting texture in the concrete, trying - mostly unsuccessfully - not to let my desperation and depression overwhelm me. And 1 percent trying to convince anyone who cared to listen that I was innocent. That I was just the plumber. Which quite often caused a good laugh. It seemed that the whole world had agreed on exactly the same version of the truth regarding my person. I still didn´t know what exactly had been going on with these children and I actively didn´t want to learn it. My lawyer had understood that meanwhile. I couldn't stand to hear details of the atrocities I had supposedly committed. At least my lawyer was slightly more optimistic after a while because it seemed that they had no direct proof that showed my involvement or contradicted my plumber "story". The problem was that it might take an eternity until the case was brought before a jury. And that the jury might overlook the missing evidence against me and just go with the public opinion. In any case, I was facing at least several months in jail. Or several decades. Or the rest of my life. My fate would be what other people decided it to be, people that were part of a public that seemed to have prejudiced my case already. All that was left for me to do was to await the outcome. No, my future was not looking rosy. Not at all. xx After a few weeks in prison, I received the next blow. I was served with divorce papers. My hand was trembling and my eyes were wet while I took the envelope. No, Megan, please don't do this. I love you, I thought. We were always a team, best friends, lovers, confidants. Please don't give me up that quickly. But the papers cruelly told me that Megan wanted full custody of Lara, the house and all of our assets. She wanted no alimony or child support. For obvious reasons, it said. Everybody handled things as if I was already convicted. It even contained a restraining order for the time after my release. In the unlikely case, it said. It named me as a sexual offender, unfit to have contact with my daughter. Just great. It was as if I was facing one solid wall of public opinion against me. Of course, I tried to fight the divorce. Not in a legal way, but by trying again to explain things to Megan. By trying to contact her. By writing text messages whenever I could access my mobile phone. By writing long letters. By trying to call her. To no avail, I never got any kind of reaction. Letters were returned unopened, calls were blocked. She had completely given up on me. The love of my life. My wife for many years. The mother of my daughter. The woman that had professed her love for me only a few minutes before I was arrested. She dropped me like a hot potato in my darkest hour. The thought didn´t just make me sad any more. It also made me feel disappointed. And even a little angry. Guilty xx Two endless months after my arrest, the guard granted me a few minutes with my mobile phone again. I switched it on, but had no idea any more who I wanted to call. Everyone had abandoned me anyway. Maybe I´d just check the news sites to see the latest truths about my past and the newest predictions about my future. I had never wanted to be a celebrity and I was not really enjoying the status right now. Right after it had started, my mobile beeped and indicated an incoming message. The first incoming communication at all since the nightmare began. Maybe not everyone had abandoned me, which gave me a little hope. It was from Tim, which was a slight disappointment. But I was glad someone wanted to talk to me at all. So I immediately opened it. And I felt the blood drain from my face and my body starting to tremble. It was a photo. Megan. And Tim. Both naked. Fucking. Megan seemed to be unaware of him taking it, but he grinned into the camera. I was devastated, humiliated, defeated. It also contained a text message. "always had the hots for her. your loss, my gain, asshole". I didn´t bother to answer. Everything was crystal clear. I was completely alone now. I was even glad the divorce was already on its way. xx Four months after my arrest the divorce was granted, completely on her conditions. The judge was obviously convinced that I was a child molester too. I had tried to get shared custody at least, but failed. Megan also owned everything now. I had lost her. I had lost my daughter. I had lost my parents. I had lost my house. I had lost my savings. I had lost everything. My whole life as gone. xx Five months after he rupture in my life, something surprising happened. My lawyer requested a meeting. I dreaded those because nothing ever came from them. But I dreaded the isolation in my cell even more. "Hi, Curt. I have great news." He made a spectacle of revealing some big mystery and I had to remember my parents´ looks when I had opened my Christmas presents. "Go ahead, please. Don´t torture me." "You won´t believe this. The other culprits have suddenly changed their strategy from pleading not guilty to guilty. One of them seems to have confessed and now they all suddenly want deals. And they are extremely talkative and eager to ease their sentence. More than one has already testified that you were not involved at all. That you were just the plumber. I've always known it, Curt. Congratulations." Sure, he's always known it. Bastard. But that didn´t really diminish my happiness or the weight that was lifted from my shoulders. The constant feeling of hopelessness was replaced by anticipation. Things will finally turn out right now, I thought. But will they? How could things be repaired? I was officially divorced. I officially didn´t have a daughter any more. If this could be reversed, would I even want it? After the massive betrayal my beloved ones had committed? I didn´t know. And I unsuccessfully tried to prevent these thoughts from soiling this joyous moment. xx To my surprise, I was released almost immediately. Nobody apologized. Nobody explained. Nobody tried to help me. I was more or less just unceremoniously shoved out of the door. So I stood there in front of a closed prison door. The street was completely empty. No one waited for me. I felt almost as abandoned as I had in my prison cell. Okay, time to take stock, I thought. I had 152 dollars and 32 cents in my wallet, 50 of those from the damn last job. I had a working and charged mobile phone. And I had the keys to my old truck, which was hopefully still parked at the damn house. So I called a taxi and waited. The cab finally arrived and the driver seemed to recognize me instantly. Shit, I had forgotten to anticipate how life as some kind of negative celebrity would be outside the prison walls. "Hey man, I don't drive child molesters." And with that I began to have a taste of my upcoming life. "Do you think I´d be standing here if I was one?" "I don't know." "I've just been released as innocent." He pondered the new information for a few seconds. "Okay then, hop in." He wasn't overly enthusiastic but probably had decided he needed the money and he was too old to be molested by me anyway. Well, if that's how my life would be, I surely wasn't looking forward to it. I was a little surprised to find my truck still parked near that damn house. Obviously no one had connected it to the case, otherwise it would surely been burned down by then. Things were continuing to get better. My tools were still inside. Apart from the few I had lost inside the house and during the arrest, of course. And the good old thing even started. Marvelous old truck. The only thing in my life I could rely on, obviously. To my surprise, almost immediately after driving away from this damn address, my mobile rang. It was a number I didn´t recognize so I took the call. It turned out to be a customer that had heard of my case and was sorry for me. He had some work for me to do. Well, why not? I needed to make a living so I thanked him and started to get on the way. Obviously, the news stations had been very quick to announce my innocence. Probably to minimize the legal shit-storm coming their way. The next incoming call was the dreaded one. Megan. I pondered if I should take it, but before I could make a conscious decision, curiosity seized control of my thumb. "Yeah?" "Um, ah... Hi darling. It´s me... Megan. I'm... I'm so glad that this dreadful mess has cleared up." She sounded quite tentative. And she had every reason to. "Darling? Really? You're calling me darling? If I may remind you, we're divorced. You chose to refuse to even talk to me. You took me to the cleaners. I even lost custody of Lara. Which turns out to be okay because she told me she's not my daughter any more anyway. You even fucked Tim to add to my misery." I heard her gasp just as I hung up. My mobile rang again immediately and cruelly showed me the picture I had assigned to her contact. Her laughing at the beach, looking so very happy and beautiful. But I decided to ignore her further calls. No sense in prolonging a failed relationship. If your horse is dead, get off. The following calls were announced by a picture, showing my former parents in their living room, in front of a Christmas tree. Or by a picture of my former daughter, smiling. I ignored those too. Instead, I decided to find a lawyer. Not the douche that I had to put up with during the last few months. But some real shark to sue the shit out of every paper and TV station that had soiled my name and helped to destroy my life. Right after my first plumbing job I searched the internet using my smartphone and decided on the biggest and most prestigious law firm in town. It turned out that they were already hoping to get this case and were pleased to see me. They said that it´s a quite sure thing. None of the news corporations were supposed to use my picture and name while outlining my guilt as a certain thing. Great. I managed to reduce their quite optimistic payment ideas and left in a good mood. xx The following months were dedicated to three main tasks. First, a surprising amount of plumbing work that kept me from starving. Second, successfully avoiding to be contacted by my former family. Third, hanging around mindlessly in the cheap apartment, trying to keep myself from thinking about anything serious, especially about the past. As run-down as the place was, it still seemed like a palace to me after so much time in this parody of a prison cell. I enjoyed decent food again, mainly eating out. I enjoyed my freedom and not being pushed around by the guards. I enjoyed the absence of the terrible fear that had dominated my life for so long. The complete loneliness was something I enjoyed less, but it was a feeling I was used to meanwhile. My lawyers sued 23 big and small news companies for amounts between 50,000 and 5 million. Most of them wanted to settle this case quickly, without much fuss. Three didn´t want to settle and would be sued. The other settlements summed up to 14.3 million. After lawyer fees and taxes I had 10.5 million. Not bad. I was a millionaire. A millionaire with a destroyed life, without friends or family. Overall, it was a bad deal. But my situation was a whole lot better that a few weeks before, that much was clear. The incoming money from the media companies dispelled any worries about immediate starvation and removed the need to continue my plumbing business. The big advantage was that I didn´t have to keep my old mobile number any more, which was mainly misused by my ex-family and ex-friends anyway. As none of them had ever shown up at my apartment, this removed their only way to contact me. I thought that this was the best for all of us. We needed to move on. xx One of the last calls on my old number turned out to be a bad surprise. The number was none of my stored contacts, so I assumed this was a customer. "Curt Walters speaking." "Ah, Curt, our lovely child molester. How are you? Miserable, I hope?" "Tim, what do you want?" "Hey man, do you miss her? Being separated from Megan must hurt you terribly." "You asshole. Why are you doing this? You've been my best friend for years." "No... no, that's just what you thought. I've always hated you since you got Megan. I was just good at hiding it. At least good enough for a moron like you. I just needed to stay near you so I could stay near her. You know... I had wooed her for quite some time. My future with her was almost certain, I just knew it. She knew it too, although she was too modest to show it openly. We wanted to marry, have children, grow old together. Then you came along and she foolishly fell for you. I... I still can't believe it. It hurt so much. You snatched her away from me, wrecked my life with her. And... I had to sit there for years, watching you two pretending to be lovey-dovey and all that shit. Even having a child that should have been mine. You asshole, you've ruined my whole life with this. You've selfishly taken what should have been mine!" He was getting quite agitated now. His voice changed all the time from being calm and calculating to very upset and back. He was obviously telling the truth, at least how he perceived it. "But I had to be patient, wait for you to slip up. I had to be calm. I knew you would disappoint her at some time. You are just too much an asshole not to. And then you did it. You did it so much better than I had ever hoped to. Our Mister Perfect being a rotten child molester, imagine that. I'm still laughing when I think about it. You're just shit, you never deserved her. She should always have been with me. I'm in love with her for an eternity. I loved her before you even knew her. She's mine. Understand? Mine!" I was stunned. I had never known any of that. "Anyway, asshole, I finally have her. She's sucking my cock right now. You want to talk to him, darling?" I heard some muffled voice. No way Megan would suck his cock while he demeans me on the phone. She had too much class for such a stunt. "No, she doesn't. Too bad. You probably know how good she gives head, right?" I just hung up. I had my doubts about his little show but I could not be certain. Shit. The slim possibility that she had actually just sucked him really hurt for some reason. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? And why did I even care? Well, at least his call clarified why Tim insisted on being such an asshole. He had always been in love with her? Megan and I were history. So was it okay for me if he got her? No, not really, I had to admit. Anybody but him. I realized that I had started to actively hate him, which was quite out of character for me. xx After I had received the majority of the payments and my financial worries were definitely a thing of the past, I decided to move to a minor coast town and buy a small but luxurious house directly by the sea. I also purchased a nice, but unobtrusive BMW SUV and decided to take my time with the decision how to proceed with my life. One thing was for certain though. My old plumbing truck was the only thing that had stood by my side. I liked it and I would never sell it. Apart from that my life was an almost completely clean slate and I was trying my very best to convince myself that this was a good thing. No family, no friends, no worries, no responsibilities, no strings. The past still hurt a lot, but I needed to get over it and move on. I had to prevent the shitty past to soil my future. As much as I had loved my former life, it was a thing of the past. Buried and gone. After I had settled in my new house, I began to explore my surroundings and decided that I liked the area. It was a calm and cozy town. Everybody seemed to be very relaxed and friendly and if someone recognized me, nobody let it show. My life was almost carefree, apart from the small problem that I just had no idea what to do with it. My days were as luxurious as they were feeling empty and lazy. After two weeks of aimless slouching, I decided to start a small plumbing business again, but in a relaxed way. Only jobs I liked. And only to be among other humans and maybe to meet a few people. It turned out that I did most of the jobs for free. As soon as I liked someone or had the impression that they were short on money, I omitted the payment. I quickly had a fabulous reputation in town, apart from one less than pleased competitor in a nearby town. xx About three months later I was hanging around on my deck, nursing a beer, watching the sea and feeling a little bored. My phone rang and after seeing that it was a local caller ID, I was glad for the diversion. "Curt Walters speaking." "Hi, my name is Karen Andrews. I live a stone's throw up the street, in number 26. I've heard that you occasionally accept plumbing jobs." Her voice sounded nice. I had a very pleasant tingling feeling while listening to it, which surprised me. After the disaster with Megan I had not shown any particular interest in persons with an double-X chromosome. I had treated everyone as some kind of sexless entity. I had the suspicion that I had somehow transferred my mistrust from Megan to all members of the female half of the world's population. Which might have been a little unfair and overreacted. "Yes, I can do that. I´ll come around right now." "Oh, wow. That quick? I had hoped to prepare some lunch first." "Oh, that would be great. I've eaten out for quite some time now and a nice home-made meal would be really appreciated." "Okay, I´ll fix something." "Great." xx At the given address the door was opened by a very pleasant looking woman. She was no raving beauty, but I was overwhelmed by her warm and welcoming smile. It was somehow impossible to keep a glum mood while facing that friendly and glowing face. My own facial musculature reacted before I even had the time to act consciously. It came as a surprise that the muscles responsible for the facial expression were still working after months of disuse. And it was even more surprising that my mood actually lifted just by seeing this woman. "Hi, I'm Karen. I'm so glad you had the time to come immediately. Please come in. Coffee?" "Ah, yes, thanks." Where are your manners, Curt, I thought. "Um, I'm Curt." I followed her into the kitchen. The leak she showed me was so small that it led me to the assumption that she was living alone. No male owner of an alligator wrench would have called a plumber for that. The thought didn´t exactly made me feel sad. I was still contemplating why I felt that way when I heaved my body onto my back under her sink. "I'm a widow." "What?" Yeah, that's the kind of eloquence women want to hear, I thought. "You're probably wondering why I have to call someone for such a small leak, right?" "Uh, yes. Sorry. Busted." I lifted my head and took a good look at her while she knelt by my side. She didn´t look like a widow somehow. She was too young, a few years younger than me probably. And somehow too pretty. Although that thought was complete nonsense - how could anybody be too pretty to be a widow - it seemed somehow wrong that this warm and nice woman had experienced such a grief. During the twenty seconds it took to fix the leak, she began to tell me her story. Somehow I didn´t feel embarrassed to hear her spilling the intimate details of her life. The leak was already fixed while she told me that her beloved husband had been killed in an accident. I stayed in that position, totally captivated, while she told me how she had tried to cope with the grief. Financially she was well off due to a proper insurance. But she had only recently managed to get her life into a balance and be her true self again. Suddenly she laughed and the view was melting my petrified heart a little. "Hey, you poor man. You not only have to listen to my boring story, but also have to lie by my feet while you do it? Come on, I do have chairs. Have a seat, I will fix some lunch for us." And she extended her hand to help me to my feet. "No, no. It was really... well, I don't know. It was touching. I enjoyed your story. It´s been quite a while since I've felt such emotions. It was really nice. No, wait. Not your story, but listening to it." She just laughed again. "Oh, stop it. I'm not that complicated. I know what you wanted to say. Here´s your coffee. Now it´s your turn." "My turn." "Yes. Your story. I think you need to tell it or you'll explode." "How do you know?" "Come on. You're so tense that I could to bang in a nail into you. And you talk about not having felt many emotions for a while. And everybody knows you're well off, but still do plumbing jobs. There is a story behind this and I have the impression that it is mostly untold. Spill it out, I'm a good listener." She was right. I desperately needed to tell someone my whole story in one go. And boy, was she a good listener. Asking the right questions from time to time without interrupting me, nodding sympathetically, smiling encouragingly. But mostly looking incredulous. As I related how I received the divorce papers, I began to cry a little, but was for some mysterious reason not in the least embarrassed. She left her task at the stove, came over and gently caressed my face. Even that didn´t feel awkward, it was just consoling. I began to realize how much this woman helped me and how much I enjoyed her presence. I could really get used to be around her. She gave me a warm, pleasant and safe feeling. After I had ended my sad tale, she just looked at me sympathetically. "You know that she will come back, do you?" "I doubt it. She has made her choice. And even if she regrets it, I have made mine too." "Sure." But she looked a little strange while she said it. "Okay, let's have lunch. The plates are over there, you set the table." Perfect. The way she avoided any awkwardness was just perfect. Time flew by and although I spent almost five hours at her place, it was over way too soon. We parted with the promise to meet again. My mood on the short walk home could only be described as fantastic. For the first time since an eternity. xx I spent a lot of time with her in a casual and amicable way afterwards and my somehow dulled existence of the past months suddenly changed completely. I felt like a statue that came to life after shaking a huge layer of dust. I suddenly felt awake and alive again. And now that the bad feelings started to leave me a bit, I realized how much frustration and sadness I had still carried around. xx A few days later I was sitting at Karen´s table after having finished a delicious lunch. My mood was relaxed, I was thinking of - well, mostly nothing. My main problem was if I wanted to have another beer or not, which said a lot about the general level of trouble in my life. I was idly looking around when I suddenly noticed that Karen was looking at me intently. Oh, had I maybe missed something while I had let my mind float around aimlessly? Some subtle female remark or gesture? But she seemed quite content, so I had probably nothing to worry about. She kept looking into my eyes though, which unsettled me a little. I thought it might be impolite or weak to avert my gaze as her look somehow seemed meaningful. Guilty Then she surprised me by taking my hands into hers. Okay, something was definitely going on here. This could mean anything and I didn´t want to embarrass myself by jumping to conclusions. "Curt, you know that I really like you a lot, right?" Okay, the ice was getting thinner here. This could announce something good, bad or nothing at all. Best to stay on the safe side. "Yes, I know. So do I." "Curt, my husband is gone for quite a while now." "Yes, I know." "And we´re both healthy adults." Oh. I liked the sound of that. "Oh, yes. We are." I allowed a slight smile to appear on my face. "Curt, I don´t expect anything to come from this but friendship. But we are free to determine what kind of friendship we want." I had the strong impression that too many words had already been exchanged at that point. I just stood up, walked around the table and helped her standing up. Without another word I began to place soft little kisses on her face, still a little anxious if I had understood her correctly. But her moaning soon confirmed my assumption. So I started to focus my kisses on her mouth, which seemed to be exactly the thing to do. Our open mouths met and we exchanged a few hot tongue duels. Wordlessly we went to her bedroom and started to undress. We had both been in a long-term realtionship and were past any awkwardness about what we were about to do. She just smiled and looked about as happy as I felt. Her body was exactly what was to be expected from a woman of her age. Very nice, very appealing, but not the slim body of a supermodel. I never liked those and it was quite insignificant anyway. We both had a need that went deeper than this and we liked each other the way we were. As soon as she was naked, she lay down on her bed with slightly spread legs and smiled very invitingly. I briefly thought about foreplay, about licking her pussy, about having my dick sucked. But she looked quite wet and my dick was only slightly less hard than a diamond anyway. I hadn´t been with a woman for many months. No, the menu was comprising just one point today, I would skip right to the main course. And as I jumped onto the bed, I had the impression that she had no complaints at all. I kissed her again while I aligned my cock with her pussy. I was quite aroused now, seeing her naked, smelling her and tasting her. I desperately tried to fight my urge to just push it into her in one go, knowing that this could be painful and a serious turn-off for some women. For some reason, I wanted this to be perfect, not only for me, but mainly for her. I managed to hold myself back for a few minutes of tender strokes before I gave up my restraint and just started to mindlessly fuck her. My movements became fierce and urgent and I almost lost control and came too early. Just in time I managed to slow myself down and to change my movements to slower ones, keeping her clitoris gently aroused with the base of my dick, slowly building her up towards her climax. It took some patience, some nipple play and a lot of kissing, but finally her muscles contracted around my dick and she made little cooing sounds that almost caused me to laugh. I felt proud to still be able to satisfy a woman, even at the first time we were together. I would have loved to continue with longer, deeper strokes at that time to work on my own satisfaction, but Karen was preventing that by clamping me tight with both arms and showering me with small kisses. It felt good and was definitely worth postponing my own release. After my own climax we were lying in her bed, cuddling and kissing and everything felt almost right. But I also realized that it wasn´t perfect. There was still a tinge of sadness in the back of my head, especially in a situation like this. This was no burning love, but we both got what we needed at the time. I felt better than I had in a long time and the rest of the day was just one pleasant and relaxed blur. xx My fantastic mood lasted only a few weeks. The turning point was the realization that I had forgotten to check the mailbox in the morning. That in itself was no problem as I checked it every day and the thing had never done me any harm. But on that day I found a letter that I would have preferred not to receive. It was a big manila envelope with my name on it and a hand-written text "enjoy this - Tim" on it. Tim again. Damn. Why could that bastard not leave me alone? I immediately threw it away without even opening it and quickly forgot it. At least this would have been the only logical reaction. To avoid being the victim of whatever game he planned to play. And seriously, I was no woman. As a man I was definitely able to hold my curiosity in check and leave it unopened. A few seconds later I saw that it contained an ultrasonic picture. They all looked the same for me. This could either be a squirrel's ass or Einstein's brain as far as I could tell. Tim had obviously anticipated this and had included a small explanatory note. "It´s a boy. Megan and I are sooo happy. Thanks for letting me have her, you sick child molester." Shit. Of course, I didn´t care. I mean, why should I? Megan and I were through. But two details annoyed me. A lot. A whole lot, to be honest. One - he knew where I lived and he obviously intended to exploit that for some kind of game. This letter meant that he planned to mess up my life somehow. Why? What have I ever done to this guy? First he had to rub my nose into the fact that he had fucked Megan. And now he wants to keep me from getting my life onto track again? What an asshole. And two - Megan was really pregnant with this asshole´s child? I mean, we were separated. She could do what she wanted. But seriously - Tim? A classy woman like Megan had decided that having such an idiot's child was the right thing to do? Had she completely gone nuts? I had to admit that I was more jealous that I was comfortable with. And the worst thing was - it somehow worked. If his goal was to disturb my newfound balance, this was certainly the way to do it. I decided to sit on my deck and watch the waves for a while to calm down again. xx Karen and I soon became good friends and she showed me the area and introduced me to a lot of nice people. She seemed to know almost everyone, which was no surprise as she had grown up here and it was quite small anyway. Everybody seemed to like her, which of course included me. This ended my existence as a hermit, which had more or less started on the day of my arrest almost one year earlier. Through Karen I acquired a lot of new friends and was glad for it. It felt so much better to be among people again. She reintegrated me into society and we both had a marvelous time while she did it. xx The only disturbing factor turned out to be my mailbox again. The harmless looking sheet metal object became the greatest threat to my new found peace of mind. The next attack came in form of an elaborate white envelope. Of course I knew that it would have been better to just throw the thing away. And of course, I opened it nonetheless. "Megan Walters and Tim Byrne request the pleasure of your company at the celebration of their union ..." I didn´t bother to read the rest. This really hit me. First she was having the bastard´s child, now she was marrying him? Fuck them. Seriously. But it hurt nonetheless. Boy, did it hurt. And why the hell did they have to rub my nose in this? I was finally beginning to get over her. Tim was an asshole all right. But why did Megan have to be so cruel? Did she really expect me to attend their wedding? To remain friends? Well, if she did, this was certainly not the way to do it. My few remaining feelings towards her further deteriorated by such shit, that much was certain. xx But Karen was just great. She patiently managed to build me up again after these assaults. Such a kind woman, completely unlike the nightmare Megan had transformed into. We found the way into each other's beds with ease, it just was the natural thing to do. We were in some kind of friends with benefits relationship for three months. None of us mentioned moving in together permanently, although we both had the key for the other's house. Keeping both houses seemed to be the unspoken consensus. Somehow we were both not ready to make the full commitment, maybe because of the spouses we both had lost before in very different ways. We enjoyed a nice, sunny afternoon on the deck of my house, looking at the sea, as we often enjoyed doing when she wasn't working. I was doing plumbing for friends only now as I had enough activities to fill my time with, thanks to Karen. And I did it only when Karen was at work anyway because the time we had together was precious to me. Sex with her was very pleasant, although not as magical as it had been with Megan. I didn´t yet feel the burning love I had felt for Megan, but I was optimistic that that would change soon. And that the sex would improve too due to the growing intimacy. My business could still be found on the net, which I had planned to change for quite some time. But I had never gotten around to actually do it. To be honest, I had no exact idea how to remove something from the internet anyway. I was just a simple plumber. We were enjoying our drinks when my doorbell rang. "I´ll get it," Karen said. I was thankful for that because I was in a quite calm and lazy mood at the time. I was content to watch the waves. We felt very much at home in each other's houses, so it was no big deal for Karen to answer my door. "Curt! Ah... You better come and take a look at this yourself!" Ah, well. What might this be? An "emergency" including pushy Jehovah's Witnesses maybe? I lazily hauled my relaxed body towards the front door. And what I saw there could only be described as a complete shock. Standing there were my ex-wife Megan, my ex-daughter Lara, my ex-father Carl, my ex-mother Brenda and my ex-friends Jane and Alan. All the people that had declared me persona non grata were there, only Tim was missing. They held a big, home-made sign saying "WE´RE SORRY!" and they all looked quite sheepishly. Nobody said a word. Neither Karen nor one of them. I was too stunned for even a rational thought, let alone a spoken word. Lara was busy watching my feet, as was Brenda. Carl tried to look me in the eyes in a sympathetic way. Megan looked pleadingly, with tears in her eyes. The six of them held hands, Megan and Lara were also holding the ends of the sign. Actually, this was really quite cute. It was somehow impossible to be angry while watching them standing there with their dumb sign. "Okay, come in, then." My brain had cleared a little and I was able to phrase a meaningful sentence again. "Uh, really?" Megan asked shyly. They all smiled a little. "Yeah, come on, let's get over with it. You have found my plumbing business on the net?" "Right," Alan said. "Assumed that much. I've always wanted to remove it but was too lazy. By the way, this is my girlfriend Karen. Karen, these are my ex-wife, ex-daughter, ex-parents and ex-friends." My tone was calm, even friendly in the distanced way you greet a stranger. Megan had gasped a little when I had introduced Karen as my girlfriend. But they all were quite shocked, when I introduced them all as my "ex". "So Curt... Um... we are all your exes, Curt?" Brenda asked tentatively. "Come on, let's go to the deck and watch the sea. It will help us relax." "You sure landed on your feet," Carl observed after we had taken a seat on the deck. "Yeah, I sued the media companies." "Glad to hear that." "By the way, you all chose your status as ex. Megan divorced me. Lara declared that she no longer is my daughter. Carl and Brenda declared not be my parents any more, Alan and Jane said the same about our friendship. Tim made the same statement by sending me a photo of him fucking Megan. I wasn't my choice." They all gasped as I mentioned Tim fucking Megan. It seemed the news about that might not have spread that widely yet. Which didn´t really fit to the ultrasound picture and the wedding invitation. "Curt, my son, we're here to work on that. We know that we've wronged you," Brenda said. I didn´t know what to say about this. I didn´t have the nerve for a snide remark, it just wasn't worth it. I had half expected that I would have to decide one day how I felt about them. But after months of pain I had finally gotten over them. I didn´t need this meeting or any form of revenge, I had left my old life behind and made my peace with it. We sat on the deck and the following silence lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. I didn´t really have anything I wanted to tell these people. I wasn't interested in their current lives. Or how they felt. Or in their justifications. Luckily Karen sensed this and asked, "Would anyone like to have something to drink maybe?" to alleviate the tension. She was really my anchor. We all pretended to watch the sea for a while to avoid the need to talk, no one had the guts the make the first step. This is ridiculous, I thought. "Okay, so you came here to apologize?" "Um, yes." Yeah." "Yes." "Right." They were all talking at once now. "All together or separately? How have you planned to do this?" "We haven't really planned it in detail. We just thought we need to find you and clarify things," Megan said. She seemed to be the point man. "Oh, I think everything was quite clear. I was declared guilty and dumped immediately." "Yes, Curt. And, believe us... Well... We're really terribly sorry about this. Terribly. We... We were so very weak when you needed us most." "Yeah, sure. Apology accepted." They all looked a little shocked. "What? Anything else?" "Well, it was not what we had hoped to achieve." "What? Am I supposed to give you away when you marry Tim?" She was stunned now. As was everybody else. This was not what they had expected, I thought. "Curt, I won´t marry Tim. I don't even know where he is. This was so wrong. I shouldn't have let him near me, even after you had been served with divorce papers. He exploited my weakness and insecurity. I was helpless and insecure at the time. It was lost, suddenly alone. The whole world seemed to hate us." "Megan, if you never planned to marry Tim, I received one hell of a wedding invitation." Everybody seemed to be stunned. "What?" "You received what?" "Huh?" Lara was the first to phrase a complete sentence. "Dad, let's assume they really sent such invitations. Shouldn't I have been invited? I mean, I'm her daughter. Shouldn't anyone here know something about that insignificant little event?" I didn´t know what to believe at that point. Either they were acting in an Oscar-worthy way or Tim had made the whole thing up. "Okay, what about the baby?" "Baby? What baby?" Megan asked. Everybody looked confused. "You're pregnant, aren't you?" "Curt, I didn´t have sex for an eternity and I can think of nothing else causing a pregnancy. Curt, why do you ask such nonsense? I'm sure that I'm quite un-pregnant at the moment." "Well, Tim sent this." I retrieved the ultrasonic picture along with the wedding invitation. "Curt, let me have a look, please," Jane said. She was a nurse and such pictures actually made sense to her. "That looks bad, Curt. The appendix is quite swollen. But I believe we can rule out a pregnancy. The fact alone that this shows a man makes it seem improbable." "Tim, the little shit. I can't believe it. He has some nerve. Why would he do this?" I asked. "I have no idea, Curt. I haven't really talked to him since I've come to my senses and kicked him out after that horrible one-time lapse for which I will be eternally sorry and ashamed. But he has been sniffing around all the time since, he was almost stalking me. He professed his eternal love for me again and again. But I wouldn´t give him the time of the day. "So, maybe he's doing this to prevent us from burying the hatchet? Because that would ruin his chances to get me? Curt, these chances exist in his head only, anyway." "Yeah, that might even make sense." Damn. The day had started in a relaxed way. And with my head filled with all the information I needed to draw a line under my old life. And now I was in this awkward situation and my comfortable beliefs began to tumble. "But why does he hate you so much that he still tries to hurt you as much as possible? He could woo me without doing this stuff." "Well, he recently called me and claimed that you and him were about to marry at the time we met. And that I snatched you away from him, ruining his life with it. And that he hates me because of it." "I... what? He... I can't believe it. He fantasized about marrying me? It was more likely that I´d marry the Pope than Tim. It seems he was living in some dream world for quite some time. I sensed that he fancied me and tried not to crush him while rejecting him. I might have not been clear enough about that. Maybe I should have been harsher. In hindsight, it would have been better for everyone, even for him. "Curt, I'm so sorry for giving in to him once. I just... I don't know. I was so weak at the time, so insecure. And most of all I felt just so very alone." "No, Megan. You had your daughter, your family, your friends. I was alone, truly alone. I had nobody. Not a single person wanted to talk with me. No one wanted to hear my side of the story. Everybody dumped me like a piece of garbage. I was sitting in an empty prison cell for months. That´s what I call alone. Being surrounded by friends and family is not exactly alone." Shit. I didn´t want to argue. I didn´t want to return to this time mentally. This was not good. Stay calm, I thought. This is a thing of the past. It doesn't affect you any more. Breathe deeply. "Curt... yes... we know. We... we behaved like shit. Some things contributed to our behavior though. Everyone, neighbors, friends, everyone knew what had supposedly happened. Everybody expected us to distance ourselves from you as drastically as possible. Otherwise we would have been regarded as some kind of accomplices. In other words, the society pressed us to shun you. Of course, this is no excuse. But believe me - the pressure was extremely high. Unbearably high. You know - you were probably more shielded from this in your prison cell than we were. Sometimes we were glad that our house wasn't burned down and somebody still sold us groceries. And that Lara was only bullied, but not physically harmed in school. I half expected an angry mob in front of our house all the time. But we know that it was still our choice and that we should have been stronger. But the papers and TV stations were convinced that you were guilty. We were shocked about that. Curt... too shocked to really question this. Please keep that in mind when you judge us. And please be more kind than we have been." "Yeah, and you had to fuck Tim and rub it into my nose? Because the society expected this?" "Sorry, that was a stupid blunder. I was so insecure, I felt so lost. I needed someone to help me. It was a really terrible experience. It was only once and I felt so low afterwards. Even if you had been guilty, this would not have been right. Technically it might not have been cheating because you had already been served, but morally it was totally wrong. And after I found out that he had sent you the photo, I dumped him immediately. That was plain disgusting. I believe he just used the photo to hurt you. And I just used him to feel less alone. Sex with him was terrible, by the way. I felt even more alone while he was doing it." She seemed quite sincere and managed from time to time to divert her eyes from my feet and look into my eyes. "Okay... okay... so let's assume society pressed you all to officially dump me. But - how shall I put this - no one would have known if you had let me down gentler. If you had said, Curt, we need to avoid contact for a while. But we are still at your side in our minds. No, you had this option, but you decided to dump me as brutally as you could, to destroy me." Guilty "Sorry... Curt... Yes." She was fidgeting a lot with her hands now. "You're right. In hindsight it seems this way. The problem was that everyone was so convinced that you were guilty that we believed them. Sorry. But the crime you were accused of was just so horrible. Especially while you have a daughter. Because of that I let myself be convinced to get the restraining order." "By the way, is that still valid?" "No! Curt. Of course not." "Okay, okay. But why did you have to take me to the cleaners during the divorce?" "Curt, everybody assumed that you would be in prison for many years. I... You know... I suddenly had no income at all. I needed the money. Desperately so. And our savings would have been of no use to you in there. I needed the money for Lara and me. And to get it, the crimes you were accused of helped a lot. Full custody was necessary to paint the complete picture for the judge. I personally didn´t care for this detail because we all assumed that you would still be in jail when Lara turned 18." "I see. But Megan - the signal was disastrous. After having heard that she didn´t want me as her father any more." "Daddy... Daddy... I'm so... I'm so sorry. Of course I love to have you as my father. You still are and always were. I was just so shocked and ashamed at the time." Karen had provided everyone with drinks and sat down, watching the scene unfolding before her with wide eyes. I was absolutely unsure how to react to this intimate play. "Okay, so what now?" They looked at each other rather insecurely and obviously had no idea how to proceed. It was almost cute to watch their cluelessness. "Curt, we knew this wasn't going to be easy. We hurt you a lot," the man formerly known as my father said. "But we just wanted to tell you that we're really sorry. You were not guilty, we were. We still are." "Curt," Megan said, "could you imagine to be Lara's father again? She needs you. Could you imagine to be your parent's son again? Imagine to be Jane and Alan's friend again? They all want this. They need this." "So what is your goal, Megan?" She fidgeted a little with the hem of her blouse. I knew this gesture so very well. "I... I don't know, Curt... if I could name a goal... of course.. well... I surely would love to have you back some day. There, I've said it. The thing is... Curt, I still love you and the guilt is eating me alive." She looked tentatively at Karen. Karen seemed quite relaxed. She obviously knew me surprisingly well. I smiled a little. Megan seemed to understand. "Not a chance, right?" She looked incredibly sad. "No. Not after what you've done. What do I need friends for when they dump me immediately as soon as I'm in trouble? And the position as a son, father or husband is nothing I can take temporarily. It is a life-long commitment. You've all made your choice when it counted. When I was vulnerable and needed your support." They all looked totally stricken. Alan recovered first. "Okay, Curt. Just know that we are sorry too and that we have enjoyed our friendship with you. You are a good man. If you find it in your heart to renew our friendship, we're waiting. We always will be. But we can't force you. If it has to end this way it would be a shame. Please re-consider what you do with your family though. They need you." "Curt, of course we are your parents. Your dad is in bad health. This really destroys him. Please forgive us," Brenda said. "Curt, son, I´d really like to get in your good books before I have to leave this stage. If it doesn't happen, please remember me as the father I've been for you. Not as the weak bastard I've been during this terrible time." "Okay." I was feeling tired suddenly and wanted to get over with this. This was exhausting for me. "Okay?" "What do you mean?" "Curt?" Everybody was babbling at once again. "Yeah, yeah, I forgive you all. I'm not angry any more. Haven't been for quite a while, actually. I'm not sure if I still like you though. But I don't hold a grudge any more. It´s... it´s just not worth it. Honestly. All of this is a thing of the past." I just had the incredible urge to sleep. Or to just watch the waves. Awkward silence engulfed the group. Megan opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. They all looked a little puzzled. "Curt," Megan said. "Yeah?" "Is Lara your daughter again? Are Carl and Brenda your parents again? Are Alan and Jane your friends again? Can I be your friend maybe?" "Megan, these are just words. If I say yes, Lara can be my daughter, what would be different? Nothing would change between us. My feelings towards her wouldn´t be any different. So I answer all of your questions with a yes, if it makes you feel better." "Really?" She had tears in her eyes and I had the impression that she somehow had missed the essence of my speech. "Sure. Lara can be my daughter again. Carl and Brenda can be my parents again. Alan and Jane can be my friends again. You can be my friend. Will I forget what you've done? No. Will I like you more because of it? No. That can't be achieved by a simple visit and an apology. Only time can bring that." "You're right, Curt," Alan said. "I suggest that Jane and I leave now, we are relatively unimportant. Your parents, Megan and Lara are really depending on your decision. Maybe at some time you will have really forgiven them and then the less important people like Jane and I can start mending fences. Is it okay for everyone if we drop out of this for a while?" Everyone murmured their assent. Alan stood up and approached me with and outstretched hand. To my own surprise, I took it. "Sorry, mate." "It´s okay." Then Jane tentatively offered a hug and I did her the favor. She immediately began to cry a little. "Curt... oh Curt... sob... please forgive us." "Okay." I didn´t find anything else to say. I was too overwhelmed by all of this. "Do we get a hug too? I'm a little envious," Lara said after Alan and Jane had left. I had to chuckle at that. "Okay, come on." "What?" "Ooooh, my son." "Curt." Everybody was talking at once again. And they all wanted their hug. They cried a lot and thanked me a lot. Their apologies sounded sincere. I realized that I had really somehow forgiven them. They were my family and always would be. Although Megan wasn't my wife any more. That chapter was closed for good. Afterwards the mood was a lot more relaxed and we exchanged stories about the year of our lives we had missed. Karen kept herself in the background very sensibly and just provided snacks and beverages. After a few hours we were all tired and they returned to their hotel. Megan was the last one to hug me. "Curt... Curt... I... You can't imagine how sorry I am. I still love you. And I have decided to devote my life to you. I will try to make up for my period of weakness. I will not pester you, but I´ll always be there for you." Her voice was very low and I even enjoyed her presence again. But nonetheless, Megan and I were history. "Honey, you were just marvelous. I was sooo proud of you," Karen told me after they'd left. "That was the toughest family situation I've even heard of. It wasn't easy for each of you. And I think everyone behaved just great. Especially you. Now let's make love, Curt, I need it now. It was so nice to watch you handle this so well. And you are so handsome, tall, well built. And you're mine. Come on, lover." Well, who was I to decline such an offer? xx I didn´t see my former family for a while afterwards and enjoyed a relaxed time with Karen. One day I was buying some groceries that I needed for my dinner preparations later. I was busy carefully inspecting the eggs when I noticed a very good looking woman at the bread counter. Blonde, tall, with a killer body and a beautiful face. She wore high heels and classy clothes that managed to accentuate her body in a sexy, but tasteful way. In short, she was a stunner. And even more important - she was my ex-wife. I was still frozen in shock and I'm afraid that even my mouth might have been hanging open slightly. I couldn't get around the fact that she was casually purchasing bread here while she was supposed to live several hundred miles away. She fully turned around, immediately spotted me and came over with a big smile as if this meeting was the most natural occurrence in the world. I had composed myself a little meanwhile. "Hey stranger," she said in a good-humored way. "Megan. Well... you look great." "Thanks. You meanwhile look a little - well - surprised? Oafish maybe?" She laughed and it was just marvelous to watch. Damn. I still loved her. But she had not only deserted me, taken me to the cleaners, taken away my daughter, she had also cheated on me. I deliberately had to summon up these thoughts to prevent myself from thinking too warmly of her. "Well, I am that. Surprised, I mean. I hope that I'm no oaf." "Just joking, Curt." It was amazing how differently she acted than on the day she had visited me. She seemed friendly, but composed and self-confident again. And so unbelievably attractive. "I know. May I know why you chose this shop to joke while buying your bread?" "Well, why not? They have a good selection. Anything wrong with it?" "Isn't the flight home with these groceries a little inconvenient? Isn't it quite far from home?" "Oh, I understand. No, not really that far, just a few minutes. I live in the white house up there. You can see it from here, actually." She pointed at a small house on a hill. "Ooookaaayyy..." To say I was surprised would have been a massive understatement. "Quite convenient for you, isn't it? If you need anything, just let me know, okay? I'm here for you. Anything you need, just let me know." "So you sold the house." "Yes." "And you bought that one." "Right." "And you moved here." "Obviously, yes." "With Lara?" "Of course, She's only 17. She will finish high school here." "You have managed to separate her from her friends? That was even possible without surgical intervention? I thought they were glued together." "Curt, you know that she was always your little girl, right?" "Yeah, until..." "Stop it. I know. The news hit her harder than anyone else. Apart from me, of course. Because for us, you were somewhere on top of the Olympus. And suddenly you were turned into a child molester. It hit us so hard because we had worshipped the ground you walked on. That´s why we went so crazy." "O... Okay." I had to admit, that might make sense. Maybe I had been too harsh on my girls. "You know... she even insisted we move here. She wanted to leave her friends for you. Curt, I would never have done that against her will. My plan was to wait until she has finished high school and then move here." "Oh, wow, you two are quite determined to get into my good books again, huh?" "Boy, you have no idea. Curt, you... Well, just know that there are almost no limits of what I would do for you." "You know that I'm in a relationship, right?" "Yes. Yes, I know. Doesn't matter. Do what feels good for you. But Curt, just to let you know - nothing is off limits for you with me. I'm tutoring some kids. And I have to take care of Lara. But apart from that I'm yours. Whatever you want, consider it done." "Wow... Megan... that guilty?" "Yes. More than you can ever imagine. And... more important, that much in love. And that's a tough combination. I'm thinking of you 24/7. Trying to come up with ways to make your life better, to please you. To begin to make it up to you. I have made lists of what I could do for you. Written speeches I might hold to convince you. Letters I've never sent. It´s really bad... well, not bad actually... it´s just... I'm completely focused on this. On you." "Oh, wow." "Curt, my cell number is still the same. Call me. Please call me. If you need someone to iron your shirts, someone to help you with your tie knot, to wash your hair, to clean your car, to have the greatest sex of your life with, just call me. For whatever you want. I´ll be grateful if you do." "Wow. Megan... by the way... is it a coincidence that we meet here?" "You mean that I've moved here, watched you for days, dressed myself to the nines and followed you in here to get to talk to you? No, not really." She smiled mischievously and looked very beautiful while doing it. Damn, I had to decide soon. If I let Megan into my life again, I would be lost. I was under no illusions that two or three of those meetings would be enough to render Karen as history. And my relaxed life with her would surely be replaced with an emotional rollercoaster ride with Megan. Sure, she would be contrite as hell and would make my life heavenly. But the memories of what she had done would return all the time. "Megan... this is not fair. You know - Karen has really built me up after you have destroyed me. And... it´s just... I can't cheat on her. And I don't want to drop her either." "I understand. You are very loyal. But you don't love her. You love me. And I love you. We had a lot of bad luck. And I've reacted extremely stupid. But that changes nothing. You love me. I love you. That´s what counts. The rest is just residual anger that should lead nobody to waste precious time that could be spent with the one he loves." The bitch. She was right and she knew it. I still loved her. And I liked, but didn´t love Karen. Both feelings were mutual. So what would I gain if I kept things like they were? I would avoid a confrontation with Karen that would lead to me feeling guilty. I could continue my comfortable sulking with Megan. Both reactions seemed weak. If I had the balls, I would stop the whining, self-pitying drama. And I wouldn´t avoid to drop Karen just because it would be an inconvenient situation. "Use my shame, my guilt, my love. Use them without inhibitions. There's no time limit, too. Use them to live some kind of male dream." I looked at her with big eyes. She was good. Probably good enough to get what she wanted. Because she knew me. And because she meant what she said. "Of course you'd get custody of Lara again. You can have that any time you want to, anyway. And you'd get your savings back if you want to. Including that house." She pointed at it. "You can have all that whether you let me back in your life or not. But you'd get the most unbalanced prenup in history if you took me back." "Oh... Oh my god, Megan..." It was almost too much to bear. She was manipulating me. Even successfully so. And she was completely honest, doing it. She was doing it out of love, I knew that. I was toast. She was hammering down my defenses with every word. "I will get a tattoo with your name if you want to. And sexually everything you've ever dreamed of is possible. I mean it, Curt. Literally." "I... I know," I croaked. "We can move in with you. We're both contrite as hell. We would make your life perfect. And in a year, Lara will go to college. We will have the house for ourselves then. You could keep me naked. Only high heels. Really high ones. And a leash, maybe. And a garter belt, of course. Bunny ears, maybe? Or a maid's costume? Or how about a corset? Or a ball gag? And an anal plug would be fun too, don't you think?" I was slowly coming to my senses again and looked around. We were still standing in a small town supermarket. We had accrued an audience of several, mostly older people. Some had shocked expressions on their faces, some envious, some were just smiling benevolently. And I had the hell of an erection. One thing was certain - we had to get away from here. The tightness in my trousers was making that painfully clear. "Okay, let's go." "Yes. Whatever you want, honey." I took her hand and we raced out of the store and towards my car. I didn´t have the time to hold the door open for her. We jumped into the car simultaneously. I sped off towards my house. Yes, yes. I was going to be with Megan again. Yes. My life would be good again. Yes! Megan! "YEEEEEEHAAAAH!" I suddenly exclaimed, while driving. She smiled at me happily. We ran into my house and she followed me onto my deck while we both were shedding clothes. We were absolutely frantic. We were both almost nude when we reached the big lounge sofa and she immediately went down on me. To my surprise, she took my complete cock into her mouth in one go. She had practiced it with a rubber dildo, she had told me later. While I fucked her ferociously in missionary position, I just exclaimed "You bitch, you miserable bitch!" Meanwhile I kept kissing her everywhere. "I know. I'm... I'm so sorry." "Yes... Yes... I... know. I know you are. I love you, Megan." "Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, my love." She began to cry a little. Then the talking stopped and I mentally left this world and the whole shit that had happened behind. I was just with her. Fucking her. Then calming down and making love to her. Changing my desperate strokes into a slow and gentle clit rubbing motion, wanting to please the woman I loved. Finally, after two of her climaxes and my own, we collapsed panting onto the sofa. "Friends?" I recognized the voice immediately. Karen. Oh, no. "Karen... I... I'm so sorry." "Don´t be. We were never meant to last. We like each other, but there is no love. We were just friends with benefits. No worries, Curt. You did the right thing." "Wow, you're the best. Yes, friends. Gladly." "Good. I knew this would happen when I first saw you two together. You are made for each other." "Thank you, Karen. You're just great." "You deserve to have her back, Curt. You deserve to be happy and you need her for that." "Friends?" Megan asked. "Yes, Megan. Take good care of him. I´ll be around to watch you." "Promised. He will be one good taken care of man. The best taken care of guy in the world probably." "Good. Good. Hey, I´ll leave you two alone now. Enjoy each other. And I really like you both. I meant it when I said I want to be friends." We both nodded and Karen left us alone. "What a woman. I wish I was that strong. But I'm still glad that I could take you away from her." "She's great, yes. You want to call Lara?" "She's at school. But I'm sure she'll be more than happy to come here if she may." "Certainly. We will have to get rid of your house anyway." "What?" Megan started to tear up. "You want us to...?" "Well... I mean... What have you expected?" I was a little confused. "I thought now that everything is clear you two will move in here. I've really missed both of you. And I want to stop missing you. We... Megan... we will have to get past this whole shitty episode. And I want to fully enjoy you making up your blunder to me." "Oh, yes." She was very sincere now. "And I will. Forever." I know that I should have been stronger and said something about not wanting a doormat or a slave and about the perils of unbalanced relationships. But to be honest, I felt like I had been treated in a shitty way and that I deserved to be pampered a little. Unbalanced? Hell, yeah. I was looking forward to it. It would certainly be nicer than living separated from the woman I truly loved and cultivating my anger. I had paid during these months and I wouldn´t keep myself from getting paid back in full. Selfish, surely. But it was what we both needed. As expected, Lara was overjoyed when hearing the news that she and Megan would move in with me. I was her hero again. Like I so much enjoyed to be before this disaster. She jumped into my arms, sobbing right after returning from school and threatened never to let me go again. It felt good. Very good. I was so happy that I felt like I might explode spontaneously. I had my girls back. Everything was going to be okay. We chatted for a while about nothing serious when we were interrupted by my doorbell. Expecting nothing bad, I opened the door in a good mood. This turned out to be short-lived as I saw the "object" standing there. Guilty Tim. "Hey, child molester. I'm just here to warn you. I've heard Megan has moved into the area. You better leave your fingers off her, understand?" "Or what?" "Or... well... I'm a lot smarter than you. I will make your life hell. Everybody still suspects you anyway. It will be easy to forge some eviden... Oh, hi Megan, honey. Good to see you." Amazing. He had changed his tone in mid-sentence from unsuccessfully trying to sound menacing to overly corny. "Tim, what kind of nonsense are you babbling here? Forge evidences? Well, I almost hope you're dumb enough to do it, so you find your ugly ass in prison quickly. And by the way - I'm not your honey. Never was, never will be. Stop dreaming." "Come on, we're engaged." "Yeah, I´ll soon be engaged to kick your balls, slime ball." "Megan... honey..." "Tim, I think nobody gives a shit about your little schemes any more. Or about you," I said. "Maybe it´s a good idea if you leave now. Quickly. Permanently." "Ah, our old child abuser has something to contribute." To my surprise, he took up a threatening stance. I mean, he was maybe 5´10" and his most notable sports activity was lifting a ring binder. I was well over 6´ and would have had no problem to clean his clock thoroughly. "So come on, big man, let's fight over her. You're too soft and wimpy for it. Face it, Curt." "Megan?" "I don't care about the little shit. I won´t object if you beat him to a bloody pulp. Hell, I´d probably even applaud and take some pictures." Tim looked at her incredulously, as if awakening from a long dream. Which was probably quite close to the truth. Then he just turned and ran down my driveway, not omitting to stumble and fall once for our entertainment. We both laughed. "Well, that was sure some nice evening entertainment," Megan remarked. "Yeah, who'd have thought that the little shit was good for something in the end?" We turned around, closed the door and closed this unfortunate chapter of our lives in silence. xx That was five years ago. I proposed Megan three months after they moved into my house while Lara was present. It nearly took her breath away. Both of my girls were testing new waterworks productivity limits afterwards. And it was no real surprise that Megan accepted. Well, she did when she was finally able to talk again. Which was preceded by rigorous nodding. It was a scene I would never forget and quite moving too. We got married in a small ceremony with Karen and Lara as witnesses. And yes, Alan, Jane and my parents were present. We had finally re-connected. Neither of us had ever heard of Tim again, luckily. And let me tell you - my life was a dream afterwards. We traveled a lot. Sometimes we took Karen with us until she got engaged to a nice guy and was too busy to accompany us. Sometimes we took Lara with us, sometimes both. Sometimes we traveled alone. I think what counts is the end result. I live with the only woman I love and that loves me. Okay, her behavior will never be forgotten. But why should the past stop me from having a happy future?