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It Was Just Sex, Honey Ch. 01

By: Night Scribe



I guess you might say I'm a lucky man. My name is Paul, and I have a runner's body which has stayed with me since college. That's how I got to college in the first place. I was good at running the hurdles and even better at the sprint races. If it was a mile or less, I was your man. At least I was good enough to get an athletic scholarship. I even got to try out for the Olympics, but I was point zero four seconds too slow.

I didn't have a specific major because I had no special interest, so I settled for a general studies degree. While that was going on, I received a master's degree in sex education. I had the looks to go with my body, and I took full advantage of it. Girls were easy and most of them were excellent teachers in the art of making love. I learned more about sex during those four years than most men learn in a lifetime.

I got lucky after graduation and was offered a job by an electrical wholesale company. The main office and warehouse was in Central City. We had four satellite warehouse outlets in each of the four directions, about four hours away by car. They were North City, South City, East City, and West City, as my boss liked to call them. Part of my job was to visit each satellite store every fourth week. The owner believed in hands-on supervision and wouldn't let me use the computer or the telephone as a substitute for face-to-face meetings. 

I would leave early every Thursday morning for one of our stores, arrive about noon, review their inventory, and check on any problems they might have. I would stay overnight at a good motel or hotel, check back in with the store for a couple of hours Friday morning, and then drive home. The boss provided me with a nice car, and he didn't complain about my expense account.

I met Gail at our first company picnic. She was attending a family reunion that was holding a picnic at the same park. She was beautiful. No, she was more than beautiful; she was exquisite. You could see her in a bikini at the swimming pool and still be suffering from wet dreams about her a week later. We introduced ourselves and sat on a bench to talk. Well, I think she was interested in talking. I was interested in something else, but not in public.

We talked for about thirty minutes, and I realized two things. She had the most desirable body I had ever seen. Her fine blonde hair was done up in a pony tail and it went down to well below her shoulder blades.

That was the problem, she was blonde. The creators of every blonde joke ever told or written must have had her in mind. No wonder she was twenty-three years old and still single. As far as I could tell, she didn't even have a boyfriend. I was only a year older than her but light years ahead of her on the intelligence meter. 

We exchanged phone numbers, and I called her the next day. We made a date for the next Friday night, but that turned out to be a complete waste of time for me. I took her to a nice place to eat, and we danced afterward. Actually, she was light years ahead of me when it came to dancing. Rule number one was that you don't look like you're making love when on the dance floor. We could keep an inch or so between us, or we could sit down. I found out about rule number two when I took her home. I got a kiss on the cheek, but I didn't get invited in. Okay, there was always date number two.

Date number two was exactly the same as date number one. Date numbers three, four, and five ended the same way. Back in college, I always scored by the second date. Considering I wasn't getting anywhere with her, I started teasing her. What the hell, why not? I would be moving on before long anyway. She was so dumb that she would laugh right along with me, never realizing that I was making fun of her. Dumb blonde. 

We dated a few more times, and I continued to make fun of her. She never knew the difference. Of course, I never saw the inside of her apartment either. By the time I decided to move on, it was too late. I had become obsessed with her.

I wanted what I couldn't have. I had never been turned down like this before. I made up my mind that I wouldn't give up until I had her. Marriage was no problem. There was always divorce if it didn't work out.

She was a virgin; something I had never experienced before. Out of the numerous women I had enjoyed, that simple pleasure had escaped me. I would have her maidenhead, one way or the other. If I had to marry her to claim her virginity, fine.

Her complete lack of experience would definitely work to my advantage. It would be fun teaching her how I liked to be pleasured. I wouldn't have to worry about her comparing me to some former lover. Marriage seemed like the best way to get exactly what I wanted. 

I had heard that a girl became totally devoted to the man that took her cherry. That, plus her marriage vows, would make her mine and mine alone. That's what I wanted, complete loyalty. 

Was I in love? I doubt it. Besides, love is for romantics and fools. I did want her though. She would probably loosen up once we were engaged. 

I reserved a table at the very best restaurant in town for our next date, and we had a perfect candle light dinner. She accepted the engagement ring with a close hug and an intimate kiss.

That got me through the front door and all the way to the couch. We were sitting close, and I started to put my hand down her blouse. She stood up, cupped her breasts with her hands and informed me that only her husband would play with those puppies. She then cupped her sex and informed me that only her husband would ever explore that territory.

We hadn't set a date to get married. I was thinking along the lines of a year or so but when she said that, I moved the timetable up to as soon as possible. We compromised on two months. She wanted a nice church wedding, and it would take that long to make all of the arrangements.

As for the honeymoon, well, I'm not sure that there are enough descriptive words of the right kind to properly describe it. Heavenly bliss is as close as I can come. Yes, she was a virgin, and she was as dumb about sex as the proverbial doornail. She had never even seen a porn movie. That didn't slow her down one bit. She was a very fast, energetic learner. The instant she said 'I do', all -- and I do mean all -- of the barriers came down. The only place she drew the line was about anal sex. She had heard about it and decided against it long before she met me. Although I had tried it with other girls, I agreed with her. Why mess with that when there was a nice, soft, warm, wet pussy right next to it.

We went out dancing the second night and she was crawling all over me. She felt me hesitate and whispered that we were married now and we would damn well dance any way we wanted to.

Things continued to go well after our honeymoon. We found a nice three-bedroom house at the end of a dead end road. It was kind of isolated, but we liked that. I made enough money that she didn't have to work if she didn't want to. She had been doing a little bit of free-lance writing before we were married, and she wanted to pursue it. She already had a small business account set up that had a few hundred dollars in it. That was fine with me. That met she would be home every evening when I got off from work, and we could continue to explore each other in detail. 

The first thing she did was to buy the best PC available, along with a scanner and color laser jet printer. She set up an office in one of the spare bedrooms. Well, I called it an office. She called it her inspirational creativity room. The second thing to go into the room was a fancy surround sound stereo system. She then bought a lot of CDs with stupid names like Tchaikovsky and Bach. She called these things her creative audio ambiance. Dumb blonde.

That brings me to my problem. I married a dumb blonde. I will say one thing though; she has never turned me down in bed. If anything, she will initiate sex if I don't. The problem is; she has been initiating sex with at least four other guys for the past five weeks that I know about. Three years of a perfect marriage and then it goes to hell. Dumb blonde. 

I must say that I have made it easy for her. I leave home every Thursday morning and don't get back until late Friday afternoon. That gives her a lot of time to fuck around every week with little chance of getting caught. Anyhow, that's probably what she thought. Dumb blonde.

I took her to the adult toy store not long after we were married and we selected several different kinds of dildos and vibrators that we thought she might like. I figured she would play with those if she got horny while I was gone. I think she did that until about five or six weeks ago. Then she had to go and find several real live dildos to play with. Dumb blonde.

I found out about her games by accident. Gail and her date went into a bar that is owned by a close friend of mine. She was there on a Thursday evening, and I knew about it within minutes. After all, what are close friends and cell phones for? My friend didn't see anything bad going on, but Gail and her companion did sit rather close together. They were there for about an hour and then left holding hands. Dumb blonde.

To say that I was surprised would be a gross understatement. I just couldn't, or at least I wouldn't, believe that she would cheat on me. Our sex life was good, and she was always telling me how much she loved me. We were even thinking about her going off of her birth control pills and starting a family. Well, at least we didn't have to worry about kids, and I knew that she was still on her pills this month. She always took them the first thing every morning, and I was usually shaving in the bathroom when she did.

I hurried through my work Friday morning and returned home by early afternoon. I went to the bar and talked to my friend. I got a blow-by-blow account of exactly what happened. They didn't do any kissing, and their hands remained above the table all while they were there. It didn't seem too bad, but my friend thought I should do some serious investigation to be sure that nothing was going on. Being a bar owner, my friend knew exactly who to call. His name was Max Cook and his card was tacked to the corkboard at the end of the bar. Yep, he was the guy to go to all right. He was the only detective agency in town that took on cheating spouse cases. I called Max, and he said he wasn't busy and to come on by.

Max had a nice office. He greeted me warmly, and I explained my suspicions. He said he was working on another case right now, but it should be all wrapped up by Tuesday of next week. I wasn't going to need him before Thursday, so it looked like everything was going to work out fine. I made arrangements to leave a picture of Gail along with a description and the license number of her car with his secretary Monday morning. 

Things continued to go very well at home, and Gail about wore me out in bed. I left bright and early Thursday morning. I didn't get an hour's sleep that night because I was worried about what Max would find out. All of my worries and lack of sleep paid off. I met with Max late Friday afternoon, and he had bad news. Some guy arrived at my house about noon Thursday. He and Gail left about six to go eat and returned about nine. He didn't leave our home until noon the next day. Max had some nice pictures he took with a zoom lens. I recognized the bastard immediately. It was Adam, one of her friends from church. He was a deacon and was supposed to be happily married. Well, I had her now. Dumb blonde.

Max thought we should get some audio/video recordings of them doing the dirty. I knew that Gail would be visiting her parents Sunday afternoon, so I told him to come by about two o'clock. 

Gail tried to fuck my brains out all weekend. I couldn't say no to sleeping with her because I didn't want to make her suspicious, but I wasn't about to make love with her. That's when I decided to be too tired or to have a headache. If she could pretend that she wasn't fucking another man, then even though I didn't want to, so could I. Dumb blonde. 

Gail left at half past one, and Max arrived at two o'clock. He hid several cameras around the house, and we hid the recorders in the attic. It took less than three hours. Max left about five, and Gail got home about six. It worked out perfectly. Dumb blonde. 

Adam didn't show up next Thursday. It was Brian! It was almost too much to take. Brian was our insurance agent. He was supposed to be happily married, too. Max and I talked it over, and we decided to keep watching and see if anyone else was involved. Gail continued to demand that I let her try to fuck my brains out, and I continued to have headaches. Considering whom she had been fucking so far, I figured I was reasonably safe from STDs, but she was fucking someone else now, and I wasn't going to have anything to do with her. Dumb blonde.

I left the next Thursday wondering who the lucky bastard was going to be that night. Last week's videos were good; too good in fact. They used the couch, the kitchen table, the weight bench in the basement, and the spare bedroom. The weight bench was a surprise. I hadn't fucked her there yet, but only because I hadn't thought of it. Dumb blonde.

Max didn't disappoint me Friday afternoon. Craig sure did though. He showed up right on time at noon Thursday. This bastard managed the gun club where we shot. Gail liked to shoot her twenty-two and nine millimeter. I liked to shoot my 40S&W and 45 Colt Auto. This was the son-of-a-bitch that gave her shooting lessons, and now she was giving him fucking lessons. The living room tape showed her sitting on the edge of the couch teaching him how to eat pussy. I guess that's what she was doing because she kept giving him directions. Craig was younger than us and had only been married for about six months. That was a marriage that wouldn't last long. Dumb blonde.

She wanted to make love that night, but I rolled over and went to sleep. Max and I had enough evidence now that I didn't have to pretend any longer. I wouldn't be fucking her again for the rest of her life. I was ready to hunt up a lawyer and start divorce proceedings. Max talked me out of it for a week or so. He thought I should wait and see just how many men she was fucking. As he put it, the more evidence we had, the larger the percentage of our property that would be mine in the settlement. Dumb blonde.

I never touched her all week and she was starting to look really frustrated. I'd of been willing to bet that whoever walked through the door at noon Thursday would be raped before the door was all of the way closed. Horny dumb blonde.

I wasn't wrong. Dan was on time. This was her fucking hairdresser! I knew the bastard was married, but I always thought he liked men. He did act like a sissy. She met him naked and dragged him to the couch, pushed him to his knees, and pulled his head between her legs. She was laying back, both hands gripping his head, and screaming for him to lick her harder and faster. 

Max busted out laughing. When he was able to talk, he pointed out the length of Danny boy's tongue. Damn, how was he able to keep all of that in his mouth? He had the longest tongue I had ever seen. She came twice before she turned loose of his head. She pulled her knees back to her shoulders and he started fucking her.

That got another burst of laughter from Max. Poor Dan's pecker was only about four inches long and just a whisker bigger around than my thumb. Considering the size, pecker was the only name that seemed to fit. Max was just about on the floor by now. Dan's hips were moving so fast that they were just a blur. I had never seen anyone, male or female, move their hips that fast. He had staying power too, because he lasted for over ten minutes at that speed.

He suddenly froze. He was locked up tight against her and remained that way for over a minute. Damn, how long could this guy cum? He finally fell off to the side, and the cum started running out of her. I had asked the wrong question. I should have asked how much could this guy cum?

Gail helped him onto the couch, got on her knees in front of him, and stuck her head between his legs. It didn't take her five minutes to get him hard again. Max was laughing so hard by now that he made it to the floor. That little pecker just completely disappeared into her mouth. She not only had him buried in her mouth but she was sticking her tongue out underneath his pecker and licking his balls!

We agreed to wait one more week to see who else would show up. At this point I wouldn't have been surprised if St. Nick himself would have parked his sleigh on the roof and slid down the chimney into her waiting pussy. He might as well get his share, because everyone else was. Dumb blonde. 

I didn't touch her all week, and I wouldn't let her seduce me. By the time Thursday morning arrived, she was so horny that her eyes were blazing. Her nipples had been hard for the past two days. I think she had burned the motors out of all three of her vibrators by Wednesday evening. Horny dumb blonde.

I left with a smile because if everything went right, I would confront her Friday evening and move her horny ass out of the house Saturday. I had it all set up for divorce papers to be delivered the first thing Saturday morning. Max agreed to get there right after the papers were delivered. I figured that I had better have him there to be sure she didn't try to do something stupid. He would be a good witness for me. Dumb blonde.

My boss had mentioned that he was going to replace the manager at the East store and wanted to know if I was interested in the job. It would be a nice increase in salary for me, but I would have to move to that town. I had told Gail about it just before this mess started, and she had seemed interested. Considering whom all she had been fucking, I had no desire to remain here. The only thing was; I would be going by myself. I wasn't about to take her with me now. Dumb blonde. 

Max had everything ready for me when I arrived at his office late Friday afternoon. It was Adam, the self-righteous deacon again. We got some good video this time. The only place they didn't fuck or suck was in the master bedroom. They went at it like two rabbits on speed, with an overdose of ecstasy thrown in for good measure. Horny dumb blonde.

Max made three good pictures off of each one of the tapes and put them in an envelope for me. He arranged them in the exact order that I wanted. I was ready to confront her now, and I was a happy camper when I walked through the front door. 

She caught me before I got to the kitchen. Smiling brightly and with a gleam in her eye:

"Hi honey. Welcome home. Wanna get nasty with me?" she said as she tried to throw her arms around me.

Damn! She's been fucking Adam's brains out, what there were of them, for two days, and she still wants more. I wondered if it was possible for her to ever get enough?

"No, thanks. I do think we need to talk, though. Come on into the kitchen."

I managed to disengage from her and led her to the kitchen table. I must say that she had a nice dress on. It came almost down to her knees and the top was so tight that it was obvious she didn't have a bra on. Her tits had the front stretched so tight that I was afraid it would rip. I was even a gentleman and seated her at one side of the table. I sat down on the other side and started talking.

"Gail, our marriage is in trouble. As a matter of fact, I think it's over. However, I'm going to give you a chance to explain. Would you please tell me why you are having an affair with Adam?"

I placed the first three pictures on the table in front of her. One showed her sucking his dick, one showed him licking her between her legs, and the third was of her riding him cowgirl style while he played with her nipples. Her eyes brightened up as she carefully studied each picture.


It Was Just Sex, Honey Ch. 01



"Hmm. That was yesterday afternoon and again this morning. We had a real good time, dear. This one here of me riding him was the most fun. We both got off at the same time. Did you know that he's a little longer than you? He's not quite as big around as you are, though. It was so much fun riding him. You should have taken one of us cumming together. His face twisted up in the cutest way. He's really pretty good, once I taught him a few things, but I think you're better."

Damn! I'm asking for an explanation and all she's doing is bragging about it. I knew she was dumb, but damn! She surely can't be that dumb, can she?

"Damn it, Gail! You're married! To me! You aren't supposed to be fucking other men."

"Really? I didn't think you would mind. It was just sex, honey. It didn't mean anything. We were just having a little fun. It's you that I love."

"I don't understand, Gail. If you love me, why were you fucking him?" 

"Well, we were talking at the church picnic, and the subject of our spouses came up. Did you know that until he and I got together, he had only done it missionary style? His wife is so hung up about sex that she thinks you should only do it if you want to make a baby. She knows that he likes it so she lets him have sex with her one night per month. He said that she just lies there and does nothing. As soon as he cums, she takes a shower and goes to bed. They don't even sleep in the same bed. They have twin beds. I felt real sorry for him so I invited him over. I didn't think you would mind, honey. It was only sex."

"You mean to tell me that the only reason you fucked him is because you felt sorry for him?"

"Of course, dear, what other reason would I have? He's a friend but it's you that I love. All I did was show him what it felt like to suck and fuck in a whole bunch of different positions. It ended up feeling good for both of us. What's wrong with that? You were out of town so you didn't miss out on anything. I was horny, you were gone, and he was curious. I think it all worked out real well."

I didn't know what to say. There weren't any courses on dumb blondes in college, at least none that I knew about. All I could do was sit there and look at her. She was sitting there looking at the pictures. Dumb blonde. Maybe if I moved on:

"What about Brian?" I said as I laid three more pictures on the table.

Her eyes brightened up again and the corners of her mouth turned up into a wishful smile. I had no idea what she might be thinking. I had expected her to say that she was sorry. I thought that she might even beg me to forgive her. It was beginning to look like none of that was going to happen. Dumb, dumb blonde.

"So, what about Brian? I ask him to come over because I thought I might need extra insurance for my computer and stereo equipment. We got to talking and one thing led to another and the next thing I knew he had me bent over the kitchen table fucking the hell out of me from behind. That's me screaming in orgasm as this picture was taken. I'm giving him a blow job in this picture. He's a little shorter than you but he's bigger around. My jaw ached for three days. He doesn't care too much about eating pussy but he sure likes to do it doggy style. He wanted to stick it up my ass but I wouldn't let him. He'll be here next Thursday about noon, but that's all right because you'll be gone on your trip."

"You just don't get it do you, Gail? We're married! That's supposed to mean something. The only one you're supposed to be fucking is me, damn it!"

"But I do fuck you, Paul. I fuck you every chance I get. We fuck every day. But you aren't here on Thursdays. You're a couple of hundred miles away, for all night. I only want to have a little fun. Why should you care if you aren't here?"

I didn't have a clue as to what to say or do next. She wasn't denying a damn thing and worse yet, all she's done is tell me how much fun it is. For lack of not knowing what else to do, I laid the next three pictures out.

"Would you mind explaining what it is that's so special about Craig? Please? I know this is very difficult for you. Take your time. I wouldn't want you to have a nervous breakdown or something."

"Oh, you're being silly again. Craig was standing behind me at the range, and he was showing me the proper way to point my pistol, and he got hard. I could feel him pushing it against my ass. I felt so sorry for him. I mean, it was kind of my fault. If I hadn't asked him to help me, he wouldn't have gotten in that condition. I couldn't leave him to suffer like that so we went into his office, and I took care of his problem. He was so grateful, and he wanted to return my favor, so I brought him home with me. I thought you liked Craig. You're always joking with him and all."

"That may be but I certainly don't want him fucking my wife. He should be home fucking his own wife."

"Oh, honey. He's so young and inexperienced. He's only been married for a few months. Someone needs to teach him so that he can be a better lover to his wife. I'm just doing him a favor. He's going to bring his wife with him next time so that I can teach the two of them together. He wants to watch his wife and me make love. He thinks it will really turn him on. I don't know anything about having sex with another girl. Is there some book at the library that I can check out and read?"

"Yes, it's in the infidelity section. The title is 'How To Fuck Up Your Marriage Without Really Trying' and then you should read 'Divorce, The Final Option' next."

"Oh you, you're being silly again. Hey, I'm thirsty, how about a beer?"

She bounced out of her chair, and her tits just about bounced out of the top of her dress. I think the only reason they didn't is because her nipples were hard and wouldn't let the top of her dress slide over them. She handed me my beer and sat back down asking:

"Got any more good pictures?" 

She reached across the table, grabbed the envelope, and turned it upside down. The last three pictures fell out face down. She turned the top one over and:

"Oh my! This is Dan and me! He's the best. His wee wee is so small. This is a good shot of him fucking me. He can move his hips so fast. It's almost like I'm being fucked with a jackhammer. I don't know how many times I came before he finally went. Did you know, his dick actually vibrates when he cums."

"Oh boy. This is a good one," she said as she turned the next picture over. "I've never had a tongue so far in my pussy in my life. You know, once I taught him how to use it, he could send me all of the way to heaven. He could almost touch the back of my throat when we kissed. What's this last picture?

"Wow! He's the only man that I've ever been able to take all of the way in my mouth. He went off like a rocket when I slid my tongue out under his dick and tickled his balls with the tip it. Got any more pictures?"

Her eyes were blazing. Her left elbow was on the table and she was circling her right nipple with her left index finger. Her right hand was hidden beneath the table and she was kind of squirming in her chair.

"Holy shit, Gail! You're playing with yourself aren't you?"

"I can't help it, Paul. All of these pictures are so sexy. My thong is absolutely soaked. You haven't touched me for over four weeks. Take me to bed, please."

I couldn't believe this dumb bitch! I've accused her of cheating on me and told her that divorce was on the horizon, and she wants to get off! Well fuck this shit!

"Please, honey, please! I love you, only you. It was only sex with them, honey. It's you that I love. Let me make love to you. Let's go to bed. I promise I'll make you feel sooo good."

I could hear a sloshing sound coming out from under the table and her upper right arm was moving rapidly now.

"To hell with you, Gail! I don't want anything to do with you any more. Go use one of your vibrators. Hell, you can use 'em all at once for all I care."

"I can't, they're all worn out. They won't work anymore. Oh God! I'm cumming!"

She did. She sat there and flinched and jerked and almost slid out of the fucking chair. Her head tipped back, her mouth opened wide, her eyes rolled up into the top of her head, and then she screamed through her orgasm. What in the hell was wrong with this bitch? Was nymph-o-mania a disease that a woman could catch? Was she mentally off of her rocker?

"I'm out of here, you dumb bitch! You're nothing but a slut and a whore! I want nothing more to do with you!"

I got up and started for the door.

"Oh, honey! Please, honey! I love you, Paul!"

I just walked right on out the door. I didn't even bother to take the pictures with me. Max had everything I needed. She could finger-fuck herself all night while looking at them for all I cared. My friend that owned the bar lived on the floor above it, and I would stay there tonight. Gail could have the whole damn house to herself. I would have her ass out on the street tomorrow. Dumb fucking blonde! 



It Was Just Sex, Honey Ch. 02



I guess you could say I'm not a lucky woman. My name is Gail, and I've been told that I have a perfect body. I was a beautiful baby at birth, a delightful child at age two, and a charming little girl at age five. Then I was an angelic little darling at age ten, a lovely young lady at age fifteen, and a stunning young woman at age twenty. I am now a radiantly alluring married lady at age twenty-six. I think I could be dressed in baggy coveralls, covered with mud from head to toe, and some guy would nudge his buddy and say, "Hey dude, check her out!"

In some ways, I'm pretty smart. Most guys seem to think that I'm blonde and beautiful, and dumb. I gave up trying to convince them differently years ago. I met Paul, my husband, about three and a half years ago. I fell in love with him, and we got married. He's very good-looking and reasonably smart. He likes to tease me about being a dumb blonde, but I just laugh along with him because I know that he doesn't really mean anything by it. At least, I thought he didn't. I'm not so sure now.

I think my marriage is over, and I don't have anyone but myself to blame. I have had four different lovers in the past five weeks. Paul leaves early every Thursday morning to visit one of his employer's four satellite stores. He stays overnight and returns late on Friday afternoon. That gave me a 24-hour window in which to experiment, and experience what it was like to have a different lover.

Paul found out what I was doing and really raised hell with me last night. He had pictures of me with all four men. He was very upset that I had cheated on him, and he's demanding a divorce. He was so mad that he went somewhere else to sleep last night. He says that the divorce papers will be served at eight o'clock this morning, and then he's going to move me out of our home. Well, it's 8:30 and the papers aren't here yet, but I just heard his truck stop in the drive.

Paul came in through the front door and found me sitting at the kitchen table. I looked up at him over my coffee cup, and said:

"Hi, honey. I'm glad you're home."

"I'm sure you are. Well, I'm home to stay but you're leaving today. Get your stuff packed and in the truck. I'll take you where ever you want to go."

"But, dear, I just don't understand why I have to leave."

"Because, you dumb fucking blonde, you've been sleeping with other men! You've broken our marriage vows. There's no way that I'll have anything to do with a woman that does that. Didn't you read the papers that were delivered this morning?"

"What papers, honey?"

"The divorce papers, you idiot!"

"I'm sorry, honey, but no one has been here this morning but you."

He was really starting to look confused. The papers were supposed to be here at 8:00, but it was about 8:45 now. He had to be wondering what had gone wrong. He kept looking through the dining room at the front door, like he was expecting something or some one. He must be psychic because the doorbell made its irritating buzz at that moment. He jumped up out of his chair and made a dash for the door. There was some anxious whispering, and then he returned to the kitchen with a rather large man.

"This is Max Cook, my private investigator. He's here to be sure that you don't do something stupid. He's also here to see to it that you leave today, just like the divorce papers say."

"But, dear, there aren't any papers. Now why don't you fix Mr. Cook a nice little drink, and we can sit here and talk about your nice little problem."

The envelope he brought the pictures in yesterday was lying on the counter behind me. I reached back, and laid it on the table in front of me. Paul just rolled his eyes and gave Mr. Cook his best "What's this dumb blonde going to do next?" look.

"Look, you dumb bitch, I don't have a problem. You're the one with the problems. You've been sleeping with other men for at least the last five Thursdays. You have been unfaithful. You've broken our marriage vows. I'm kicking you out and divorcing you. Like I said before, I won't have anything to do with an unfaithful bitch."

I removed the first few pictures from the envelope and spread them out on the table in front of Paul and Mr. Cook, and asked:

"Do you suppose Ann's husband feels the same way about Ann as you do about me? You just said you wouldn't have anything to do with an unfaithful bitch, but you're fucking her every Thursday night that you're in North City. Are you telling me that it's okay for her to be unfaithful, but not me?"

"Holy shit! Where did you get those? Damn you! You had no right! I'll fix you. So help me ...!" 

He started to get out of his chair, but Mr. Cook grabbed him by his arm and told him to sit down and calm down.

"Notice the date on the first one, dear. That was your first trip to North City after our honeymoon, wasn't it? It didn't take you very long to break our vows, did it?" 

I turned the envelope upside down and twenty more pictures fell out onto the table. I didn't give him time to say anything. 

"What was I doing wrong, Paul? Look at the one of Ann giving you a blowjob. Is she better at that than I am? Here's one of you in a sixty-nine. Does she taste better than I do? 

"Here, check them all out. I've got several of you and Beth over in East City. Here's some of you and Connie in South City. Oh, and let's not forget Dee Ann in West City. It looks to me like you're fucking a lot of unfaithful bitches. Well? I think it's your turn to explain now. What have you got to say for yourself?"

"I don't have to explain a damn thing! I'm the man of this house, damn it! It's a man's nature to want a little variety once in a while. It's the woman's place to stay home and be faithful for her man. You're the one that invited other men into our home! You're the one that defiled our marriage bed! You're the ..." 

"You just stop right there, Paul! Not once did I have sex with any of them in our marriage bed. It may have been everywhere else in the house, but not there."

"You still don't get it, do you? You're married to me! That means that you belong to me, and me only. To put it in terms that your dumb blonde little head just might understand; you don't fuck anybody but me, period!"

"Oh, so what you're telling me is that I can't fuck anyone else, but it's okay for you to sleep with other unfaithful women when you're out of town. Have I got it right, now?"

"Exactly!"

"I don't understand. If I have to remain faithful, then why don't you?"

"That's different. I'm the man of this house. You will do as I say, and I will do as I want. That's a man's right."

"Well, Paul, I won't agree to that. If you can sleep with other women, then I'm going to sleep with other men."

"Damn, Gail, you keep talking like you're going to be living in this house tomorrow. Get it through your dumb blonde head that we're through, period. You're moving out today."

"I don't think so, Paul. If anyone leaves today, it will be you. I have put up with your insults and humiliation for our entire marriage. I realized that you were working under a lot of pressure at work and if letting you make fun of me helped you to deal with it, then I was willing to do it. I love you, and I will do anything for you. I watched you flirt with other women when we went out dancing, but that made no difference to me because I loved you. 

"You made no secret about having experienced several women before you met me. You've even bragged about it to other guys in my presence. I didn't care because I loved you. I knew about you sleeping with Ann the first week after we got back from our honeymoon. That hurt me real bad, but I loved you. I almost lost my mind when I found out that you were sleeping with a different woman every Thursday night, but my love for you gave me strength. I was sure that you would get tired of them, but you didn't. Then you scared me. You wanted us to start having kids.

"The first issue was that you have been with a lot of different women. I had never been with anyone but you. The second issue was wondering what kind of a father you would be. I decided to take care of both issues at the same time. 

"I carefully chose four men to have sex with. All of them have made it known that with a few changes on your part, we would be welcome in their little group. I was honest with them. I told them that you were the only man I had ever been with, and that I wanted to know what it would be like to have sex with someone else. I also told them I was going to fix it so that you would find out about it. Each of their wives was present when I made my offer, and they agreed to it. 

"It wasn't revenge sex, Paul. I felt that in order to understand you better, I should do as you were doing. You know, walk a mile in your shoes, so to speak. You were seeing other women, and I wanted to know what it would be like to be with other men. Did I enjoy it? Yes, I did, very much so. Were they any better than you? No, just different. However, you're the one I love. It's you I want in my bed, just you.

"By the way, Paul, how did you like my little performance yesterday? I tried my very best to be the perfect little dumb blonde that you so love to humiliate and make fun of. Do you know what really hurts, Paul? In spite of the way you treat me, in spite of the other women, in spite of several other problems we haven't talked about yet, I still love you. 

"Now, I'm going to deal with the second issue. There have to be some changes made if we are going to have kids. Paul, I want you to know that I still love you dearly. That being said, you now have to choose one of four options.

"Option one. We start having an open marriage. There is a swing group of about 25 couples that I know about. They have a large party once a month and most of them get together in smaller groups several times a month. They freely have dates with each other's spouses. No one dates anyone outside of the group. If you really have to have a variety of women, a club with 25 available females in it should be enough for you. You just remember that there will be 25 available males for me to play with. 

"One of the couples owns a clinic that deals with sexual infections and diseases. New couples have to go through a six month screening process. That means you are tested once a month for six months. The testing continues on a monthly basis for as long as you are members. If you are caught dating someone outside of the group, you are discharged from the group immediately. They will occasionally make an exception but it has to be voted on by the whole group. They made one for me, but I had to be examined and tested by the doctors at their clinic. 

"Option two. We continue like we are. You sneak around with other women, and I will sneak around with other men. It will be just like in the military, we won't ask, and we won't tell.

"Option three. We forgive each other for all past indiscretions, and start living as a married couple should. To put it in your language, you won't fuck anyone but me, and I won't fuck anyone but you. This is the option that I hope with all of my heart you choose. With this option, we can start a family.

"Option four. We get a divorce. We split everything down the middle. You go your way, and I'll go my way.

"Well, what's it going to be, Paul?"

Paul just sat there, staring at something on the wall behind me. I never have been very good at reading people's faces or guessing what they were thinking. Oh, God, please let him choose me, and the family that we can have. I do love him so much. 

"Are you through blabbering now? If you are, pack your shit and get out."

So, I have lost him. He couldn't have hurt me more if he had stuck a knife in me and twisted it. My love wasn't strong enough to hold him. I would be divorced and lonely now. I've done everything I can think of to prove that I can be any type of woman he wants. If I had only done something different, but what? All that was left now was to salvage as much as possible.

"Paul, it is you that will be leaving. Pack your clothes and leave, please."

"You're not only dumb, you're crazy! So what if you have a few pictures. I've got pictures, too. The worst the court would do is split everything 50/50. If you take this to court, I'll make life as miserable as possible for you. I'll even have someone post all of your pictures on the web. You pack and leave!"

Now he threatens me? He's going to post pictures and make my life miserable? Okay, I was prepared for that, too. The 50/50 split is off. He leaves with nothing!

"What pictures do you have, Paul? Where are they at? I don't see any pictures."

"I thought I told you. This man here is Max Cook, my private investigator. He has all of the evidence I need."

I looked closely at Max Cook. The corners of his mouth were turning up into a smirk. He had patiently sat there and given us time to work things out. Now that we were past that, he looked like he was going to enjoy what was about to happen very much. I looked him right in the eyes, and asked:

"Uncle Bob, what pictures is Paul talking about? Do you really have any pictures?"

Paul's head snapped from whatever it was he was looking at on the wall behind me and looked first at Max and then at me.

"Who in the hell is Uncle Bob? This is Max Cook, my investigator."

"Paul, let me introduce you to Robert Maxwell Cook, my mother's brother. He has always been Uncle Bob to me. He checked you out very carefully before we were married. He told me about all of your women, but I didn't care because I loved you. I was sure you would be faithful once we were married. He told me about your Thursday nights away from home, but I loved you. I thought you would eventually change.

"Uncle Bob has really helped me. He recommended one of his lawyer friends to you. You have no divorce papers. You are the dumb blond around here. How do you think he managed to get in this house and change videotapes on Friday afternoons with me here? I would change them as soon as my lover left. That gave Uncle Bob more time to prepare them for you.

"I can assure you that the only pictures Uncle Bob has are of you and your married girlfriends. Oh, yes! Let's not forget your friend that owns the bar. That's where you stayed last night, and I can prove it. Uncle Bob wired the poker room and her bedroom over three years ago. I've got pictures of you and her, too. You must really be desperate for variety, because she's at least twenty years older than you are. Did you know that she has four whores working for her on the third floor above the bar? I should warn you that she has had more than ninety different lovers over the past three years. 

"I'm very lucky that you didn't bring home some nasty disease from her. Thankfully, she makes her lovers use condoms. You have no idea of how many times I've gone to the clinic to have myself checked, just to be safe. That's how I found out about the swing club. The doctor thought that I was the one sleeping with other men and cheating on you. I finally broke down and told him about you. That's when he made the offer for us to join the club. After talking with him, that's when I got the idea of finding out what it would be like to have sex with other men. He helped me pick my partners and made arrangements for me to meet them and their wives. 

"Now, pack your clothes and get out. I'll call a cab for you when you're ready to go."

"Like hell you well! I'm taking my truck, my motorcycle, and my boat. I'll make you sell the house and I'll get half of that."

"Paul, you've earned $48,000 per year for the three years we've been married. That's a total of $144,000 dollars. It was my money that made the down payment on this house. It is my money that has made most of the mortgage payments. I'm the one that paid for your truck, motorcycle, and boat. I've even had to buy most of the food we eat. 

"Most of your money has gone to the Saturday night poker games in the back room of the bar. Why do you think that whore that owns the bar was sleeping with you for free? The game is rigged. She has taken you for over $45,000 dollars in the past three years. You not only gambled most of your paycheck away, you lost some of mine as well. 

"My writing earned $32,000 the first year we were married. I earned over $48,000 the second year and almost $64,000 the third year. Two of my romance novels are in the bookstores right now. My third novel is being published this month. My freelance days are about over, but I'm still doing articles and short stories for several magazines. I tried several times to tell you how well I was doing with my writing, but you were never interested. All you would do is make fun of your dumb blonde wife that used whiteout on the computer screen when she made a spelling error. We would have been bankrupt the first year if it hadn't been for your dumb blonde wife and her income.

"If you really want to go to court, that's fine with me. The husbands of your girlfriends will find out about you. Your gambling, the crooked card game, and the whorehouse above the bar will all be made public. The police and the district attorney will love it. The husbands will beat you to within an inch of your life, and the bar owner will probably finish the job. 

"Uncle Bob, hand him the divorce papers from my attorney, the one's in the brown envelope. Paul, those papers say that you get nothing. There is also a restraining order against you in there. Now pack your damn clothes and get out!"

It didn't take long for him to pack. Uncle Bob called a taxi, and Paul walked out of my life. He didn't even say goodbye. It tore me apart to see him go. I guess he was right all along. I was a dumb blonde. I really did love him, in spite of his faults. 



It Was Just Sex, Honey Ch. 03



Gentle reader: I urge you to read or review chapters one and two. This chapter will be easier to understand if you do. Small portions of the previous chapter will be included in this one. 

Three years have passed since Paul walked out on his marriage of three years to Gail. Fate has not been kind but he is starting to put his life back together. I pick up the story with Paul and his boss talking …. 

“Well, are we ready for ‘em tonight, Paul?”

“I believe we are, Mr. Miller. I can’t think of a thing we’ve missed.”

“Great! See you at six, sharp.”

That was Jim Miller, my boss. I’ve worked for him for almost two years. As bosses go, he was one of the best. His company sold meat to restaurants. I was currently number two on his totem pole of salesmen. If everything went as planned, I would soon be number one. We were going to wine and dine the owner of a very large chain of restaurants. A successful feast tonight would result in a contract worth several million dollars over the next five years. Everything had been done to insure success. I had made arrangements for our client and his four district managers to have dinner with us at the most extravagant restaurant in the city. I had reserved a large private booth that had an excellent view of the live entertainment. Our waiter only had one table to take care of, ours. 

It was a little after nine when fateful event number one happened. 

A place on the table was cleared, the contract spread out before us, and signatures were carefully written at the bottom. Toasts were made and we helped our five guests into a waiting limousine. They had a five o’clock flight the next morning, which meant they had to be at the airport by three thirty. Jim was in a celebratory mood and insisted we go back in and patronize the bar. 

I had just finished my first non-alcoholic drink when fateful event number two struck. 

SHE walked in! No! It couldn’t be, but it was. It was HER! I hadn’t seen GAIL for three years. What was SHE doing here? 

“Good God, Paul! You’ve turned white as a sheet! Are you alright?”

“I … I … I’ve got to leave.” 

It’s a damn good thing I was sitting on a stool and had the bar to lean on. I would have gone straight to the floor if I had been standing. Gail, beautiful Gail with long blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. The long flowing dinner-dress was well filled out up front with a slight flair at the hips. Damn! As glamorous as that dress was, she made it look better.

Thankfully, she was with a group of people, all fashionably dressed. I had to get out of there, now! I tried to stand and walk to the door before she saw me. I don’t think I would have made it if Jim hadn’t helped me. Insisting that I looked too sick to drive, Jim put me in his car and drove me home.

Jim, being the caring boss he is, helped me into my apartment. I managed to convince him that I would be okay and persuaded him to leave. I wanted to hide. I wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it closed behind me. How was I going to deal with this? I couldn’t face her. It would be too painful. Lying on my bed, curled up in a ball, the memories came flooding back. Memories I had tried to forget.

I hadn’t seen Gail since I walked out on her. Beautiful, caring, loving, Gail. Every man’s dream. The perfect woman. The perfect wife. The perfect lover.  I had destroyed it. Yes, me. It was my fault and my fault alone. I was the reason my marriage had failed. I knew that now. Back then? Well, I was a different man then.

I had been an arrogant, self-centered, egotistical, over-bearing, womanizing jerk. I wasn’t like that now. I wasn’t sure just what I was but I wasn’t the same man now as I had been then. She gave me a wake-up call. She gave me every chance to change. She offered me whatever kind of life I wanted but I threw it all away. I made the biggest mistake in my life and walked out. Away from her. Away from the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Oh, damn! I was just getting my life together. I thought I was over her but I was wrong. I was in love with her. That’s something I had never told her. I had never said, “I love you.” I had never told her how much I cared. The man I had been back then couldn’t have said that. As for the man I am now, well, I’m not sure what I would say. 

Three years ago, Saturday, nine thirty in the morning, I left with two suitcases and an attitude. The following Thursday night, I had the living shit beat out of me by four extremely jealous husbands. I had been screwing the wives of two of our satellite store managers and the wives of two other store employees. Four stores, four cities, four wives and four days in the hospital. It took me over four weeks to recover.

The last thing I remember one of the men saying before I passed out was, “Leave the country. If we ever see you again, we’ll kill you.” My boss visited me the second day of my hospital stay. He handed me my termination papers and my final paycheck. I was discharged from the hospital about ten in the morning of my forth day and by two in the afternoon, I was on a bus headed for parts unknown.

Several bus changes and a thousand miles later, I was in a large city and my money was almost gone. I managed to find a cheap, filthy room to rent on a weekly basis and started living in a bottle. It was there, at the bottom of a bottle, that I realized what a fool I was. 

I envy those who know when they are in love. It was different for me. I had never experienced love. There had never been love when I was growing up and love had never been necessary with the numerous girlfriends I had experienced during and after college. Then, drunk, crying my eyes out, sitting on a curb in front of some no name bar, I realized I was in love with my wife. I had walked out on the best thing that had ever happened to me.  

The suitcases and my clothes went to a second-hand store for more booze. I was kicked out of my room and started living in the alleys of skid row. It was there, in the alleys of skid row that I met Bear. I had no idea what his real name was. He was big, black as the ace of spades, about six foot four and probably weighted around two seventy-five. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Bear owned the roughest bar in the city. It was also a place where, if you were really hungry, you could choke down a hamburger.  There was always a poker game or two going on in the back room and there were some rooms upstairs where the street girls could take their clients, for a price, of course. Bear, never one to pass up an opportunity, put me to work. I swept floors, washed dishes, took out the trash, kept the bar stocked from the storage room, mopped vomit and blood from the floors, and did every other menial task he could think of. As a token of his generosity, he gave me a cot in one of the storage rooms to sleep on and a place where I could drown my sorrows in cheap booze.

I spent almost a year with Bear. 

He came in late one night after closing, actually it was early in the A.M. and caught me crying in my booze. I had managed to keep a large envelope of personal stuff. In it were some of my wedding pictures, my wedding ring and my copy of the divorce papers. I hadn’t looked at any of it since I walked away that Saturday morning. That’s when I found out how much Gail had really loved me. 

Paperclipped to the back of the divorce papers was a checkbook, with my name printed in the header. It was the old joint account Gail and I had shared when we were married. 

Bear sat down on the end of my cot and asked me just what in the hell was so bad that I had to cry about it almost every night. 

It all came pouring out. My college days. The easy girls.  Meeting Gail. And finally, how I had done everything possible to fuck over a good woman and fuck up a good marriage.

He woke me early the next morning. He handed me a large paper bag and told me to go upstairs to one of the rooms and clean myself up. I was surprised at what was in the bag. Razor, tooth brush, comb, soap, toothpaste, and deodorant. New socks, shoes, blue jeans, and three white T-shirts. Embroidered on the pocket of each shirt was the name, “Bear’s Bar.”

I came down looking and smelling a lot better. 

He told me he was promoting me to bartender and his bartenders weren’t allowed to drink, either on or off duty. 

A trip to the bank later that morning reveled I indeed had a checking account, with a balance of ten thousand dollars. I had no idea why Gail left that money for me. Maybe it was her way of saying goodbye. I told Bear and he said to save it until I was ready and then use it to start a new life. I learned a lot about life my last three months with him. 

Bear had a complaint about a shipment of hamburger. He was so persistent that Mr. Miller himself came down to investigate. To make a long story short, I was working for Jim Miller two weeks later. Falling completely out of character, Bear shook my hand and wished me well. I still stop by a couple of times a month to visit with Bear. I drink Coke and he drinks Pepsi. I still didn’t know what his real name was.

I used the money in the checking account to lease a nice one-bedroom apartment in one of the better apartment complexes close to where I would be working. A trip to one of the cheaper men’s stores resulted in the purchase of three new suits. I managed to find an eight-year-old car that was still in decent shape. 

After my first year with Mr. Miller, I found myself with two weeks of vacation. I used it to go home to visit my father. 

He was drunk and cussing women, just like I remembered him. I think he was the beginning of my problems. Dad hated women. Oh, he liked to fuck them but he couldn’t stand them the rest of the time. I spent one night there and then started trying to find my mother.

Mom left the night of my twelfth birthday. I had asked her to do something and she had said no. I complained to dad as soon as he got home. He informed her that I was becoming a man now and she was to do as I said. I went to sleep that night with them still arguing in the kitchen.

The first thing dad said to me the next morning was, “She’s gone and good riddance.”

There was a parade of women after that. Some would spend the night. A few stayed for a week or so and one actually put up with us for two months. As dad said, “All women are bitches. All they’re fit for is a good fuck. Never, ever, let one tell you what to do, son. Keep ‘em in their place, or they’ll try to run your life for you.” He raised me to think and act just like him. I guess I shouldn’t have listened. 

Driving away from the house, I didn’t feel one bit sorry for him.

It took several days to find mom. She had remarried. I spent a week with her. Her husband was easy-going and seemed like a real nice guy. Mom and I had several long talks. I told her about my life, from the time she left until I started working for Mr. Miller. She was sympathetic but didn’t make any excuses for me. It was then that I discovered dad had threatened to kill her if she didn’t leave. 

Looking back, I wish she could have taken me with her. I might have turned out better. I still call her every other week and we have some good conversations.

Thinking about the last three years of my life had totally depressed me. I managed to get to sleep about five and woke up about nine. I still felt miserable. A half an hour in the bathroom made me look better but I was still feeling rotten inside. I called a cab and went to retrieve my car. I couldn’t help but notice the large sign in front of a hotel across the street from the restaurant as we pulled into the parking lot.

“Welcome! American Writers Association Awards Banquet at 7:00 P.M.”

Well, now I knew what Gail was doing here. Her third romance novel sold more copies than her first two combined. Then, after two years, her forth book hit the racks. It was on the top ten best sellers’ list for several months. It was number one on the romance list for twelve weeks in a row, and number one on the thriller list for eight weeks in a row. That wasn’t bad. Nope, not bad at all.

It was too little, too late, but I read all of her books a few months ago. The first three were good, but the last one; well, it was art. I had no idea that words on paper could generate such feelings and emotion. She wrote as if she had lived the life of some of her characters. The critics couldn’t make up their mind what category to put it in. Some said it was adult romance. Others said it was an adult romantic thriller. They all said that it was one of the best to come along in several years. 

I wanted to go in and congratulate her, wish her well, tell her I loved her, ask her to forgive me, ask her to …. I had to leave. 

No way could I face my ex-wife. She was doing great and wouldn’t want to be reminded of me in her hour of glory. She deserved her success. She had earned it, in spite of me and my …. Damn! I wanted to start crying again. I found my car and headed for home. 

The ride was a blur. I remember parking the car but I don’t remember climbing the stairs, unlocking the door or sitting down out on the balcony. My apartment was on the top floor. I didn’t mind having to climb stairs because I liked sitting up here and looking off across the city. I somehow found a measure of peace here. I could think and not be disturbed. 

A knock on the door broke my repose. I glanced at my watch and it was a quarter till noon. That would be Mr. Miller. It would be just like him to stop by to be sure that I was okay. 

I opened the door and … Oh, Shit!

“Gail!”

“Hello, Paul.”

“Gail! I … I don’t know what to say.”

“How about, come in?”

“Yes! Yes, of course … come in … please.”

She walked right past me, tossed her handbag on the couch and started checking the place out. Damn! Sandals, blue jeans, white cotton blouse and hair in a ponytail. Damn! That’s the way she always dressed around the house or to go shopping.

“I could use something to drink, Paul.”

“I’ve got Coke, Dr. Pepper, Sprite, milk, orange juice and water.”

“A small glass of wine would be nice.”

“I … uh … I don’t drink anymore, Gail.”

“Oh, sorry. Coke will be fine.”

I handed her a Coke from the fridge and watched her walk out and sit down in one of the chairs on the balcony. She seemed so confident, so sure of herself. That wasn’t the way I was feeling at all. My confidence level was somewhere on the negative side of zero. What in the world was she doing here? What could she possible want from me? Considering the way I had treated her during our three years of marriage, I would be the last person on earth she would want to see. I finally gathered up all of my courage, what little of it there was and went out and sat down in the chair beside her.

“You’re looking well, Paul.” She said optimistically. 

“Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” Was my careful reply.

“So, how have you been?” 

I guess that was a fair question. Does she really want to know or is she setting me up for something unpleasant? 

“I’m doing alright. I’ve got a good job with a company that sells meat to restaurants. Other than that, I’m just living day to day.”

“I’m sorry you left, Paul. I’ve missed you.”

Damn! That was direct and to the point. How in the hell do I answer that? Why was she here? Has she come by to gloat? Is she here to flaunt her success in my face? Okay, maybe it was time for honesty. That was a joke. I had never been honest with her a single day since we met. If ever there was a time, it was now.

“Leaving you was the stupidest thing I have ever done, Gail. I’ve missed you, too. I don’t know what else to say, other than, I’m sorry. I know it probably doesn’t mean anything to you, but, I am.”

“Actually, Paul, it does mean something to me. I’m sorry I pushed you like I did. I shouldn’t have rubbed it in your face so blatantly.”

“Well, I did kind of deserve it. I mean, well, it wasn’t like I wasn’t treating you like dirt. I was a real jerk, considering my actions.”

“Thank you, Paul. I never thought I would hear you say something like that.”

“So, Gail, why are you here? I cautiously asked.

She thought for a minute, as if trying to make up her mind about something. “Well, I’m going to receive a small award of some kind this evening. I was hoping you would be my escort. That is, if you don’t already have a date or plans for something else.”

“I haven’t had a date, or been with a woman, since I left you, Gail.” I replied matter-of-factly. 

“Oh, I didn’t know. Why not, for goodness sake?”

“Let’s just say that I haven’t, and let it go at that.”

“I’m sorry, Paul, I don’t mean to pry.”

“That’s okay, I guess I shouldn’t be so defensive. Yes, I would be honored to be your escort this evening.”

“Thank you, Paul. Please pick me up at room ten twenty four, at six. There is a pre-banquet social hour that I must attend.”

Her business completed, she kissed me on the cheek and left. Well, that was short and sweet. She was just as I remembered her, calm, cool and collected. I have seen her lose her cool and raise her voice only one time since I have known her. That was three years ago when she told me to get out. I still wasn’t sure what she really wanted. Was she just checking up on me or did she have something else in mind? 

I had several business suits but only one good suit I thought would be appropriate for tonight. On a whim, I had taken a bonus check and visited an upscale men’s shop a few months ago. I didn’t have a use for it at the time; I just wanted it in case something special came along. Perhaps this was the ‘something special’ I had purchased it for.

Six sharp found me gently knocking on the door of room ten twenty-four. I heard the click of a lock and the door opened. I was awe-struck. She was elegance personified. Her beauty was beyond words. The gown didn’t reveal a thing. Yet, you knew that the complete package was underneath. I was so smooth. Yep, that’s me. The smoothest guy in town. I proved it by saying, “It’s … uh … it’s six o’clock.”

She grinned at me, grabbed a small purse and we headed for the banquet room. The room was large. The crowd was even larger. There were publishers, editors, agents, reporters, critics, and authors in abundance. Introductions were numerous, to say the least. Everyone in the whole damn room was so at ease, smiling, having a good time. All but me. In every case, when an introduction was made, I was introduced as her husband. 

“Pleased ta mee-cha” and a short handshake was all I could manage. 

Why was she saying that? We divorced three years ago. I had the papers to prove it. She was smiling and making polite conversation. I was in a complete state of confusion. 

Banquets like these develop a life and timetable of their own. It was almost seven thirty when we sat down to eat. I’m sure that someone had planed for the meal to last an hour. It was a little after nine when the awards ceremony started. Categories and awards were numerous. I was still lost in my own thoughts and almost missed hearing the Master of Ceremonies say something about the author of the year, followed by her name.

We were sitting on the dais, right next to the podium. Gail stood, accepted the award and began to speak.

“I wish to most graciously thank my publisher, my editor and most of all, those that were kind enough to buy and read my books. However, there is one who deserves a special thanks. The one who has been my inspiration through it all. My husband, Paul. He deserves at least half of the credit for my works.”

She sat down to a nice round of applause. The Master of Ceremonies, thinking he was making a small joke, said, “Maybe we should hear from the inspiration.”

It took but a flash of thought to recognize the opportunity and take advantage of it. I immediately stood, thanked him for a chance to speak and stepped to the podium in front of him. Talk about a man being confused, he didn’t know what to think. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This guy wasn’t supposed to speak. I could read it all in his eyes as he stepped back.




It Was Just Sex, Honey Ch. 03



“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for the honor you have bestowed on my wife. I used to make fun of her writing. She would try to tell me something about what she was doing and I would treat it as a joke. For several years, I made fun of my dumb blonde wife who thought she was a writer. Hell, I used to accuse her of being so dumb that she used whiteout on the computer screen to correct misspelled words.

“It was over five years before I took her writing seriously. Something, uh … unusual had happened to me and I sat down and read her first two novels. They were funny, they told a story, and they were very erotic. It was at that point that I revised my opinion of her as a writer. Her third book told one hell of a story. It wasn’t quite as funny but it was definitely erotic. I began to see a depth to her writing, and her, that I had somehow missed.

“Her last book almost scared me. I could see me in one of her main characters. Her insight, not only into that character but several others was almost phenomenal. I still don’t know how she was able to do that. Maybe, someday, if I’m lucky, she will enlighten me.”

I turned and looked into her eyes. I could see tears starting to form. I had one more thing to say.

“You didn’t know I could read, did you, dear?” 

I sat down, kissed her on the cheek and joined in the applause and laughter.

The rest of the ceremony was kind of anticlimactic. I was starting to think ahead, wondering what her ultimate goal was. Why had she come to see me? Why did she want me here? Why did she introduce me as her husband? I glanced at Gail. She seemed to be deep in thought. I had no idea of what she was thinking about.

We hung around and visited for a little while after the ceremony. Gail finally mentioned that it had been a long, tiring night and was ready to go back to her room. It was a silent ride on the elevator and we didn’t say a word while walking down the hall. She unlocked her door, turned and asked, “Would you like to come in, Paul?”

“I don’t think so, Gail. I’m tired. I need to think and I need to get some sleep. When are you leaving?”

“I’m flexible. I’m not currently working on anything now. Why?” 

“I think I would like to see you again, perhaps tomorrow?”

“It just so happens that I don’t have a thing planned for all day tomorrow. Give me a call here at the hotel when you’re ready.”

“Goodnight, Gail.”

“Goodnight, Paul.”

I was still somewhat confused about Gail’s sudden appearance back in my life. Considering how I had treated her during our marriage, I was surprised she even thought of me, much less actually coming to see me. There was a mystery. How did she find me? How did she even know what city I was living in, much less where my apartment was? I still had no idea of why she introduced me as her husband. I was about half way home when I decided to make a detour.

Considering that it was a little after midnight, Bear’s Bar would just now be hitting full stride. A hail of whistles and catcalls greeted me when I entered. Well, that was to be expected. Everyone here knew me and they all considered me to be their friend. Bear was holding court in his usual place, on a stool at the far end of the bar.

“Hey, check you out, man! Them’s nice duds. What chu doin here dressed like that?”

“I need to talk with you for a little bit.”

“Okay, let’s go to my office.”

He had a small office off to the side, behind the bar. The desk was very neat and orderly. The rest of the room was stacked with useless junk that people had pawned to him over the past several years.

“Okay, Paul, what’s yer problem?”

“What makes you think I have a problem?”

“Well, let’s see. It’s half past, yer dressed to impress and yer here talkin ta me. That all adds up ta a problem. Now, what is it?”

“She’s back, Bear, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Who’s back?”

“Gail is back. She came to see me this morning. She asked me to be her escort at an awards banquet this evening and I accepted.” 

“Considerin how yer dressed, that’s obvious.”

“Damn it all to hell, Bear! When we got there, she introduced me to everyone as her husband. I don’t have a clue as to what she wants or what I should do.”

“Look, ya dumb fuck, she obviously wants ya back or she wouldn’t a looked ya up. As ta what ya should do, why are ya sittin here talkin ta me when ya should be in her room, makin up?”

“That may be but considering how I treated her, I’m not sure that I deserve her. Besides, she may just be doing this for revenge or something.”

“Well, let’s see. She invites ya ta be her escort. She introduces ya as her husband ta all her colleagues and peers. She chooses ya ta spend what is probably one a the most important nights a her life with. Yep, sounds kinda like revenge ta me.”

“Damn it! I don’t want to take a chance on hurting her any more than I already have.”

“Yah, sure. Ya don’t want ta take a chance a hurting yerself either, do ya?”

“Okay … okay … that might be true, too.”

“Go home, Paul. Go home an get some sleep. See her tomorrow and ask her what she wants. Now get out a here afore one a the gals drags ya upstairs an rapes ya.”

I did what Bear said. I went home but I didn’t get much sleep. I called Gail at eight the next morning.

“Hello?”

“It’s Paul. I … uh … called to thank you for a nice time last night.”

“You’re welcome, Paul. I had a nice time, too.”

“Could we … uh … could we get together and … uh … maybe … uh … maybe talk?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Click. 

Damn! She just hung up and is now on her way here. Oh, shit! What am I going to say? How am I going to make her understand that I really do love her? How am I going to convince her it’s her and her alone that I want to be with?

Less than fifteen minutes later, the door rattled. “Knock! Knock! Knock!” 

Damn! She certainly got here quick enough. She must have broken the speed limit all of the way.

“Hello, Gail, thanks for coming over.” I greeted her, cautiously. 

“Well, you called. I came. What do you want to talk about?” She asked breathlessly. 

She must have run up all four flights of stairs. I had thought about this, but now that she was here, I still didn’t know how to begin. It was just like yesterday morning. She was wearing sandals, blue jeans and a white cotton blouse. Her hair was piled up on top of her head last night but she had it back into a ponytail now. Just as yesterday morning, she tossed her handbag on the couch and went to the same chair on the balcony.

“I … uh … could I ask you some questions?” I asked shyly. 

“Of course. Ask away.” She replied with confidence.

I took the plunge. “Why did you introduce me to everyone last night as your husband?”

“Because you are.” 

That was a simple statement. Was she playing some kind of a mind game? “I don’t understand. We’re divorced.” 

“I never went through with it, Paul.”

I couldn’t believe it. If ever a woman had just cause to get rid of a man, she did. “You mean … you mean we’re still married?” 

“Yes.” She stated, direct and to the point.

Okay, the next question was so obvious I asked it without thinking. “Why?”

“I kept hoping you would come back. I really do still love you.”

So, there it was. After the way I had treated her. After the way I had cheated on her for our entire marriage. She was still in love with me.

“Option three.” I just blurted it out. I don’t know why.

“Excuse me?”

That was a switch. She was confused. For the first time since I’ve known her, she’s confused. Calm, cool and collected Gail was confused. Under other circumstances, I would have laughed. Not now, not this time, I wanted her back. As much as it hurt, I was willing to do whatever I had to. If I had to open old wounds and remind her of a conversation I had tried for three years to forget, then so be it. 

“Three years ago, you offered me four options. The first option was for us to join a swingers club and have an open marriage. The second option was for us to just keep sneaking around on each other. The third option was for us to forgive each other and live as a married couple should. You mentioned something about starting a family. The forth option was divorce. I did the stupidest thing in my life I have ever done. I walked out on you. So, if my options are still available, I choose option three.”


She continued to look confused for a few seconds, then her eyes lit up with understanding. The next thing I knew, I had a lap full of girl and a mouth full of tongue! Oh! Boy! Wow! That felt nice. It lasted until we had to come up for air. We each took a deep breath and she locked her mouth to mine again. Something down below was on a rampage. Three years is a long time to be without a woman. Considering how she was moving her hips, she was on a rampage as well. I certainly hadn’t expected this. I had convinced myself that I had lost her but here she was, kissing the hell out of me, and making it plain that she wanted more.

Suddenly, we were out of the chair and she was dragging me to the bedroom. Clothes were flying in every direction. She fell back onto the bed, taking me with her. She grabbed my dick, guided it into her and let out a long sigh.

“Oh, Paul, I’ve waited three years for this.” She moaned.

In less than a minute, she was screaming in orgasm. In less than two minutes, so was I. It didn’t stop there. I had only begun. For the first time, since I had met her, I actually made love to her. For the first time, since I had met her, I told her how much I loved her. I teased, I taunted and I titillated her. I caressed, I licked, I massaged and I explored her body. I took my time. I made her the center of her universe. 

I made love to her body and I whispered endearments, making love to her mind. I had her moaning with anticipation and screaming in release. Time had ceased to exist. We were in a place where only lovers can go. There was just the two of us, united as one. Each of us giving and in turn receiving. Exhaustion finally stopped us. We lay together, entwined; each of us lost in the dreamland of love and joy. Fulfilled. Sated. 

“Paul, honey, we have to talk. There are some things I have to tell you about.”

We managed to find our clothes, get something to drink and sat down at the small kitchen table.

“Gail, I have no hard feelings about what you did to me. Considering the way I was behaving and what I was doing to you, well, you were fully justified in what you did. You were entitled to a little revenge.”

“That’s just it, Paul, it wasn’t revenge. I really did feel as if I had missed out on something in life. I really did want to know what it would be like with different partners. You were seeing several different women on a regular basis so I thought it would be okay for me to see a few different men. I’ll admit, I did use it to get your attention. I actually thought you would chose option one. Maybe, option two at worst. I had no idea you would walk out. I wouldn't have done it if I had known you would leave. I’m very sorry. Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. It’s me that should be asking for forgiveness, for being such a jerk. I treated you like dirt and I’m very sorry. I would like to do as you said, you know, forgive all past transgressions and move on. Maybe even start a family”

“We can only do that after I tell you what I’ve done since you’ve been gone.”

“There’s no need for that. I’ve done some pretty stupid things the past three years myself.”

“Yes, we have to do this. If we are going to build a life together, then there can be no surprises somewhere down the road. We have to get everything out in the open, now.”

“Okay, who goes first?”

“I will, I already know about you.”

“Oh, how’s that?”

“Ask me later, please?”

“Alright. By the way, how did you find me?”

“Uh … could that wait till later, too?”

“Very well, proceed.”

“Well, to begin with, I’ve continued to be a part of the swing club. No, not every night, but I would have a date with one of them once in a while. They’re nice people and I enjoy being with them. Their parties are a lot of fun. I’m still the only member that goes there without a partner.”

“That’s alright, Gail. I don’t blame you. You deserved a little happiness in your life. I do understand.”

“Thank you, Paul. Now then, the hard part begins. I started my forth book right after you left. I spent over a month on just the outline. I then wrote for three months. I tried very hard but I couldn’t get the emotions of the characters right. I finally decided that the only way I could do it was to experience what some of my characters did. I made a list and started with the easiest first.

“I worked three weeks as a maid for a very rich couple. I then worked as a waitress in a small café for a couple of weeks. My next experience was as a cocktail waitress, in a very skimpy outfit, at one of the better nightclubs. I then tried being a bartender for a week. I wasn’t very good at that.”

“I was a bartender for a while. I wasn’t very good at it either.”

“I know. Anyhow, my next job was as an erotic dancer at one of the strip clubs. I even gave lap-dances to some of the patrons.”

“Wow! Do I get one?”

“Please, Paul, don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun of you. I’ll bet you can give one hell of a lap-dance. I really would like to enjoy that experience sometime.”

“If you still want me after this is over, I’ll give you a dance you’ll never forget. It gets worse from here on, Paul. Do you want me to continue?”

“If it will make you feel better, please, do so.”

“Two of my characters were lesbians. So I ….”

“You didn’t!”

“Yes, I did. A few of the women at the swing club are bisexual. I told them about the characters in my book. Two of them invited me to join them in the bedroom and I did.”

“I don’t know what to say, Gail. Did you enjoy it?”

“Once I got past my prejudices and inhibitions, I enjoyed it very much. Making love with another woman was different, yet very satisfying. I was lucky. I had two very good teachers.”

“Is that something you want to continue?”

“That depends, Paul. If I still have you after this is over, then its something I don’t care to ever do again.”

“Okay, please continue.”

“One of the couples occasionally play master and slave. I persuaded them to let me join them. I was their slave for a week. It was new. It was fun. It was enlightening. I enjoyed the experience. However, it’s not a lifestyle I care to pursue.”

“Is there anything you haven’t done? Damn, Gail! If someone else were telling me that you've done all of those things, I would have called them a liar. I’m not sure what to think, now.”

“It gets worse, Paul. I arranged to be raped. The main female character in my novel was raped. I was having trouble writing about how it effected her emotionally. You remember my doctor at the clinic don’t you? He’s a member of the swing club, too. 


“Anyhow, I told him what I needed and he agreed to set it up with two of the club members. They were supposed to surprise me on a Saturday night. They showed up Friday night instead. They actually shattered my back door and forced me to do all kinds of things. They wore ski masks so I wouldn’t know who they were. They were a lot rougher with me than I had anticipated. I actually fought back at one point and they slapped the hell out of me. They used and abused me until almost daylight.

“I called the doctor as soon as they left. He had me come to the clinic immediately. It wasn’t the two members of our club. I actually had been raped. He tested me for STDs twice a week for several weeks after that. I couldn’t call the police. It would have been too embarrassing. One of the club members is a psychiatrist and I went through several months of counseling with him.”

“Damn, Gail, I’m sorry. That must have been horrible for you.”

“Yes, it was but I’m over it now. I finally wrote my book. I sent it to my publisher and he didn’t change one word of it. You see, after my book was in print and on the best seller’s list, my psychiatrist wanted to have one last session with me. When I arrived, I was greeted by my doctor and the two club members that raped me. They apologized, profusely. They wanted to make the experience as real as possible to me. They were very successful, almost too successful. I wanted to shoot all of them. I ended up hugging and thanking each of them.

“That, Paul, concludes my confession. Do I still have you? Or, have I lost you again?”

At this point, I didn’t know what to think. To say that I was surprised would be a gross understatement. I now had to do something I seldom had done in my life. I had to think things through, very carefully. She had done things I would have never allowed if we had been together. That was just it, we weren’t together. I had been a grade “A” number one asshole and walked out on her. She, in turn, had written a superb novel and won an award for it. Hell, one of the characters even resembled me. Well, the old me. I wasn’t that way now. Did she know that? 

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“What question?”

“How did you find me?”

“Oh. Well, I received a very nice, very long letter. It was from a man who claimed to know you. His writing was very eloquent. He told me all about you. Your drinking. Where you had been living and where you were living now. He said you were in love with me. He said you were afraid to come home, that you were too ashamed. That’s why I ask for wine. I wanted to see for myself if you had quit drinking. Anyhow, his letter convinced me to see you. He must have known about the awards ceremony and that I would be attending it. His letter arrived two weeks ago. So, here I am.”

“Who wrote the letter?”

“Some nice man by the name of Marian Feathers.”

“Marian Feathers? Who in the hell is that?”

“I don’t know. He claims you worked for him as a bartender for a while.”

“Bear! It has to be Bear! So that’s why no one knows what his real name is. Just wait until the next time I see him!”

“Paul? Is there something I should know about this man?”

“Yes. And it’s a good thing. I’ll introduce you to him later.”

“You had me worried for a second.”

“Tell me something, Gail. What lengths will you go to, to write your next novel?” 

“Whatever they are, Paul, I promise to get your permission before I do it. If you don’t agree, then the book won’t get written.”

We talked. We caught up on all the details of the past three years. We spent two hours in bed. We made love, like it should be between two people that love one another. We returned her rental car. She checked out of the hotel and we moved her luggage to my apartment. 

We made plans. We both felt there was no reason to return to our old home. We were going to be a couple. We were going to start a family. We were making a fresh start. She liked her friends there, but she didn’t want that lifestyle any more. A clean break from her friends would be best for both of us. We spent another hour in bed, catching up on all of the time we had lost. We would start house-hunting the first thing tomorrow morning. We talked until almost midnight. I insisted she put on the same dress she wore to the banquet. She piled her hair up on her head just like it had been last night. I got back into my best suit and we went for a ride.

She was apprehensive driving through the area of town I went to. She didn’t want to get out of the car when I parked in front of a seedy-looking bar. I managed to get her through the door and she froze in place. Ninety percent of the clientele in here were black. Most of the men, as well as the women, looked dangerous. Her instincts were correct and her apprehension was at overload. Most of the people here were dangerous, in one way or another. 

In this place, blonde and blue would tend to get everyone’s attention. A stunningly beautiful blonde and blue dressed as she was would bring the place to a standstill. That’s exactly what happened. The place went deathly quiet.




It Was Just Sex, Honey Ch. 03



The big black dude sitting at the far end of the bar got off his stool and walked directly to her. He gently took her hand in his and said, “Welcome to Bear’s, Miss Gail. It’s an honor and a privilege to meet you. Please let me escort you to your table.”

Every place like this has one booth that is far more desirable than the rest. It was that booth Bear escorted her to. The current occupants immediately vacated it. The bartender, realizing a special guest had arrived, had the table cleaned and fresh coasters in place by the time we sat down. The hustle and bustle and noise level slowly returned to normal. Anyone greeted at the door by Bear would be treated with the utmost respect and left completely alone. She was actually safer in here than in any shopping mall in the country.

Bear’s special bottle of scotch and three shot glasses were placed on the table and Bear poured. I started to shake my head no when Bear said, “You will drink one toast with us, Paul.”

He thought for a few seconds and then said, “To a lady whose writing is exceeded only by her beauty.”

The scotch burned all the way down. My customary Coke appeared. Bear got his Pepsi. A glass of white wine was placed in front of Gail. She was still recovering from the shock of this place.

“Gail, I would like you to meet Mr. Marian Feathers, a writer of eloquent letters.”

“Paul, if you ever use that name in here again, I can promise that your next hospital stay will far exceed four days. I have a reputation to maintain.”

Gail giggled and the ice was broken. I sat and listened for hours. They talked about famous authors. They talked about famous composers. A beautiful black woman walked in and sat down with us. She placed Gail’s four novels on the table and Gail autographed each of them. So, I had finally met Bear’s wife. Closing time came and went. They continued to sit and talk.

Bear, and his reputation, was slipping. He was now talking like the college graduate he was. He gave up his football scholarship during his junior year due to injuries but he managed to hang on and get a first class education. He graduated with honors. His father had owned this bar and Bear, liking the work and most of the people, continued to run it.

I could see where her next novel was going to come from. Some of it would probably be written while she was sitting at this very booth. It would be about this place, about these people. It would be about things that never made the papers or the evening news at six. It would be her next best seller. 

I felt good. I had straightened my life out and Gail had made her mark on the literary world. It was time for a family now. Sometimes, the love and devotion of a woman can not be rationally explained. Life could only get better.

The End.