32 comments/ 131930 views/ 18 favorites A Classic Line By: cageytee Warning!!! The central male figure in this story gets cuckolded! Those of you, for whom this is a problem, should go on to something different. If you do decide to read on, please know that I have intended to portray him as an exceptionally strong character and anything but a wimp! However successful I have been doing that is, of course, in the eyes of the reader. Emily: Be careful what you wish for! Now there's a classic line. I seem to have remembered a lot of them lately. What I would really like to know is how I allowed things to go so wrong. What was I thinking? Was I thinking? I love Tim, more than anything I can name, and what I have done has cost me having him close, as a part of my life. . . unless I can somehow change things. My name is Emily Braggen but almost everyone calls me Em. I'm 51 years old, but the story I'm about to tell you began almost two years ago just, before my 49th birthday. I suppose that it began long before that. When I was in high school I had the greatest crush on Tim Braggen. Tim was our high school sports hero. He was also one of the school's best academics and, surprisingly, he was one of the shyest people in the entire school. In spite of the most outrageous flirting and hinting a teenage girl could do, (along with the help of several teenage girlfriends), I could not get him to ask me out, so I finally asked him. Rather bold behavior in those days, but it was worth it. Tim was everything I would ever hope for in a boyfriend. Once he got, at least a little, past his extreme shyness, he was funny and fun to be with, kind and considerate and, unlike the few other guys I dated before him, he never pushed me to have sex. Over the months we dated, some of our petting sessions got pretty hot and heavy but, whenever I chickened out, he would back off, kiss me and smile. What a smile! What a body! What a man! After almost two years, this was no longer a simple teenage crush. I was in love! By the time he was 19, he was 6' 2" and 205 pounds of muscle and co-ordination. There was not one sport at which he did not excel, and a major league sports career was a realistic possibility. Almost all universities of note along with several lesser know institutions were offering a "full ride". Tim, however, never gave that a second thought. He was determined to go to work with his father who had resigned from his office job, and was trying to build his own trucking business. Only weeks after high school graduation, just when Tim began to have some significant success working with his dad, the unthinkable happened and Tim was called up. War zone deployment loomed heavily in his future. We brainstormed all the possibilities available to avoid that kind of active service but Tim would have no part of it. He was determined to do his duty. I remember those days as somewhat desperate. I was petrified to think of life without Tim. Even being without him for his service time seemed an eternity. As the time for boot camp approached, our time together took on a sort of desperation and I became determined to consummate our relationship before he left, in the hopes that he would come back to me when his time was served. I managed to convince my folks I was spending a weekend with my girlfriends while Tim went fishing with the guys. Tim's parents were told the same thing. Looking back, I suspect we didn't fool anyone, but my parents adored Tim and, I think I was kind of special to Tim's folks too. Tim got a room at a very nice hotel about 2 hours out of town. After we checked in, he took me on a tour of the area. As there was a rival school nearby and Tim had been here on numerous team trips in the past, he knew his way around. While on our tour, he bought me some flowers at a roadside stand and when we got back to our room there was a vase and some florist's powder to put into the water to preserve the flowers. This guy plans ahead! We showered, separately, and dressed for dinner. The hotel was rather elegant and, in spite of my nervousness, I enjoyed it immensely. Tim even asked me to dance a few times before I finally said, "Tim, you're going to be away for an eternity. I would really like us to have some "alone" time." In moments we were back in our room. Tim was patient, tender and kind. We were both virgins and we kind of fumbled through the first time. Tim admitted that he had never put a condom on before and he tore through two of them before finally getting one on. He kissed me softly and, I suppose, was trying to do all the right things. I just wanted him to make love with me right away! The first time didn't really hurt but it didn't ring any bells or blow me away with an unbelievable orgasm either. Tim, in spite of a terrific effort, was unable to last and not long after he entered me, he came. I do remember his face as he did and considering how much I love him, it made it all worthwhile for me right there and then. Things only got better! Being 20, Tim recovered fast and, before the night was over, I finally achieved an orgasm by something other than my own fingers. Tim had sucked on my nipples for the longest time, something we had done before, but lying in bed, both of us naked, made it a hell of a lot more effective and after stroking my pussy gently at the same time and occasionally finding my clit, (he has become a great deal better at that over the years) I almost came before he entered me, and when he did push in to me, I was rewarded with an exquisite orgasm. We fucked and sucked for the rest of the weekend and by Sunday afternoon as we met up with the rest of our friends to maintain the illusion of the weekend's excuses, I was so sore it hurt to walk and, although I'm sure no one else noticed, I think Tim was moving a little gingerly too. The first time, Tim was gone for 10 weeks. It was supposed to be 6 but he was picked for some kind of special training after which he was home for 3 weeks. We spent almost every moment together through the day and evening, often with parents and friends. A couple of times we slipped in a quickie in Tim's father's car when he drove me home. We were desperate for more time together but didn't think our parents would go for another "fishing trip" so Tim offered a solution, but left it up to me to decide, with his promised support no matter which way I went. The truth! As I had considered doing just that, I was quick to agree. We felt that the most opposition we would get would come from my dad so we decided to start with my parents. Tim stood by me as I anxiously explained what we were planning, a weekend getaway at a hotel out of town complete with all necessary birth control. I can still see Dad's face as tears welled in his eyes but he fought them down, smiled and said, "We love you Baby and we trust you. We trust you both." It was a pretty dramatic display of how much my folks thought of Tim. Later Mom told me that Dad appreciated that a lot more than a "fishing trip" story. Tim's folks did a little more. They arranged for us to have his uncle's cabin for as much of the week as we wanted. It was a beautiful 3 room log cabin, newly built and furnished, complete with hot and cold running water. We were in heaven for 5 days and 4 nights before Tim had to leave again. Having my folks be so supportive enabled me to concentrate more on Tim and less on any guilt I may have carried. Not wanting to waste any of our precious time together, when Tim picked me up, my bag was packed ready to be thrown into the trunk. I was wearing a summer dress down to just below my knees, my shoes and nothing else. Mom did give me a quizzical look as I hugged her goodbye but no one else noticed anything except Tim, whom I discovered, notices just about everything. After assurances that he could keep the car on the road, he stroked my pussy to orgasm as I sat right against him and he caressed my tits later, as I lay on the seat with my head in his lap. I stroked his cock as he drove, keeping him hard but not to climax. We had agreed that a blowjob, while driving, may be pushing things too far. Tim was so worked up when we reached the cabin that I decided that a blowjob was in order before we unpacked. With him seated in a large armchair, his pants down to his ankles, I stroked him with my hand for a bit, then licked all around the head of his steel hard cock. He came in moments and although I tried, I could not swallow it all and I choked a little. It seemed to be so funny I began to giggle and we both ended up laughing uproariously. We had become much more comfortable exploring new things with one another. It was, of course, a wonderful week. We went for walks in the forest, we swam in the lake and ate each meal in a different place, sometimes on the deck, down by the lake or even in our bedroom. The best part was our intimate time together, which we enhanced by the way we dressed (or didn't dress) and by out and out teasing each other while out enjoying the sights. Just the knowledge that I was wearing no panties while we were out for a walk, seemed to excite Tim no end. I bought a two piece bathing suit that by today's standards, would be rather chaste but back then it was terribly daring. When we swam in the lake it thrilled me to have Tim slip his hands into my suit to caress my tits and a few times even my pussy. We were so wicked! It was fun and thrilling but it served as a vivid demonstration to me how much I had come to love Tim. He meant everything to me then, and even more now, as I write this. We had already talked about getting married but Tim would not agree to it until he had finished his service. He saw the real possibility that I might be a widow all too soon. He vowed he would continue to come home to me every time he could, as long as I still wanted him, but that, if that was too much for me, he would understand. For the next 3 years Tim was gone for up to 6 months at a time, then home for a few weeks, then, gone again. Although often tempted, I was true to him and never even really dated. I went along when there was a group of friends going, either to a movie or a concert, but never paired off with anyone. Aided and abetted by our parents, we spent every possible moment together while he was home. One time, during his last year in the service, when at home, he was visibly troubled. Although he had been that way before and had explained that he had seen some terrible things and had had to kill people, and that upset him, this time he was different. After a great deal of soul searching he finally admitted that he had had sex with some women who had been brought into their encampment while on a mission. He had reported to the medical facilities as soon as he returned to the base and, after an appropriate waiting period, had been declared free of any STD's. I was hurt and angry and he, as I requested, took me home. He apologized for his behavior and offered to leave me to work out what ever I needed to do, assuring me that he loved me but that he would understand if I wanted to call off the relationship. It took less than a day for me to realize that however hurt and disappointed I was, I loved Tim and didn't want to be without him. He promised, never again, and I have had no reason to doubt him since. 3 years almost to the day he first left, Tim came home and announced he was here to stay. One week after his discharge he took me to dinner at an exclusive resort and after a moonlit dinner on the resort balcony, he got down on his knees and asked me to marry him as he presented me with a beautiful engagement ring. Tim had changed in some ways. He was still an amazingly handsome man who would have been almost any woman's dream. Through exercise while on duty, he built his body even more than he had as a student athlete and I discovered he was even stronger and more agile than ever before. A state he maintained throughout our lives together. He was still funny, kind and considerate, not only in the bedroom, but also in our day to day lives. He is an open and honest person but he adamantly refused to talk about what he did over there, except to say that war is hell and that all he wanted was to put it all in the past. I did get a small glimpse of something one night when we came across some punks giving an old drunk a bad time in an alley. Tim, being the kind and gentle person he is, asked the guys to "please" let the old guy alone. One of them made a smart ass remark about me and I saw Tim become someone else! In a quiet, but very cold voice, he asked them again to leave the old man alone. When one of the punks turned on Tim, everything moved so fast I'm not sure what I saw, but I did see the punk go down and when two of his buddies came to his rescue, I saw them go down too, both howling in pain. Before I could react in any way, Tim was helping the old man to his feet and getting him away from his tormentors. As I said, things happened too fast for me to follow what actually happened but I do remember Tim's face as he easily took on the three of them and, it was not a look I would care to see again! Aside from that incident, I never saw that side of Tim again for many years. Over the next 26 years we had two wonderful kids who grew up, worked hard and had started on their own paths through life. We missed them of course but Tim and I rediscovered each other and our lives took on a new kind of fun and excitement. Tim had ultimately taken over the business his dad had started and with hard work and dedication, more than quadrupled its size. At 50, he sold it making us quite wealthy and giving himself a part-time consultancy to "keep his hand in". It usually involved him traveling to meet with a group of shipping personnel for the first weekend of each month but a total of only ten weekends per year. He left Friday afternoons and was home by Sunday noon and often he was home Saturday night, if the meeting wasn't too far away. Tim said we had worked hard and now were entitled to follow our own pursuits without worrying about finances. He improved his golf game to a 4 handicap. I took up golf too and we spent many enjoyable times with family, friends and other club members. Tim volunteered at a local youth centre and spent many days playing basketball, flag football and a whole lot of other games with those kids and he helped out at a martial arts club he had joined not long after we were married. He seemed to find a great deal of satisfaction in that. The one thing he did, that I objected to, was skydiving! He had always wanted to try it. He had, on two prior occasions while in the military, parachuted out of an airplane while on some sort of assignment and wanted to try a free fall. We argued for weeks about it and finally I could see that he really needed to try this, so I finally relented. I remember I spent the week leading up to it and all of that day in agony, fearing the worst. I cried with relief when he called afterwards. Tim was his normal loving, comforting self but he was also flush with the thrill of having done it. As much as I love him, it was upsetting to have him excitedly retell the story of his dive and, as much as I love him, I was hurt and annoyed at him for putting me through that. When the kids first left, I took on a part-time job working Monday to Wednesday for 4 hours a day at a retail sales firm, coordinating incoming calls for field sales people. I worked in a small office with three other women, all almost young enough to be my daughters. It helped to ease the transition to being an "empty nester" and I enjoyed working with them. After a few months, when we became better acquainted, they would include me in their daily gossip and when telling stories about their singles lives and their sexual adventures. Periodically, salesmen from all over the country would come to our office for new product information and sales training. As one of these events was approaching there was visible excitement among them as someone named Brian was coming to town. Two of the three had spent a night with him and told amazing stories about his sexual prowess and stamina. The stories seemed to me to be gross exaggerations as they claimed this guy could get off 4 or even 5 times in a single night and further, that during the evening his cock would occasionally "swell" abnormally so that he was much bigger than his normal size. I was sure the stories were lies but they were fun and Tim and I initiated a lot of fun times for ourselves as I repeated them to him while we were making love or just out and out fucking. We even did a little role-playing where he would pretend he was Brian and this unbelievably talented man would "fuck my brains out". Aside from me, Ellen, a divorcee, was the only co-worker who had not yet slept with Brian. She was very cute with long brunette hair, good legs and a lovely set of 34 B boobs and it was obvious she was hoping to be next on Brian's list. I certainly didn't want to piss in her cherrios, but I did let her know that it was unlikely that much, if any, of the stories were true, but she was still hoping! Brian turned out to be a rather good looking, apparently very nice, man in his mid 30's, about Tim's height but where Tim appeared slender, Brian was quite bulky and gave the impression of being a much bigger man. I have to admit that, looking at him, I couldn't help but wonder what he might be like in the sack. In fact it made me horny enough that Tim had a very enjoyable week. On three days that I remember, I seduced him. Once while he was showering after returning from a pick-up basketball game, another time while he was half-heartedly watching a golf tournament on TV and once while we were enjoying a soak in our hot tub late one evening. While in the shower I had him wash me from head to foot leaving no part of me undone. Then I did him and when I finished, I knelt in the shower and gave him the best blowjob I could, while holding the detachable showerhead at full blast between my legs. Occasionally, as I let my body sway a little, I could focus the spray on my pussy and now and then on my clit, but after a while, I stopped trying to get myself off and focused on Tim. He told me later that looking down at me sucking him and blasting at my pussy with the showerhead was a turn on for him and when he came, his knees buckled and I thought he would fall on me. He managed to hang on until the orgasm passed, then he carried me to our bed where he ate me to at least 2 climaxes. I say at least 2 because I think there might have been more. It was so intense, I lost count. During the football game, I put on the shortest skirt I had, without panties, and a loose "peasant blouse" without a bra. I moved around the room doing some light housekeeping and trying not to look too obvious. As I said before, Tim notices everything and after "enjoying the view" for a while, he pulled me on to the sofa and ate me to a delicious orgasm before dropping his pants and fucking me to another one. I saw an interview on television where two movie stars were being asked if they had actually had intercourse during a scene that took place in a hot tub. They denied it and claimed that, with the heat of the water it couldn't be done. Tim and I proved that wrong! As we sat in the tub enjoying the night sky and a bottle of our favorite red wine, I reached over and stroked Tim to erection. We sat there for quite a while as I kept him hard and enjoyed the look on his face. After quite some time, I had him sit forward and I straddled him, then rode him, cowgirl, until we both came, me first then Tim. At the end of that week, Tim called from his car on his way home from the golf club and asked me out to dinner. He suggested something fancy so I dressed accordingly and when I came downstairs after getting ready, I was met with two dozen, beautiful roses and a card telling me how very much he loved me! A Classic Line Ch. 02 Warning!!! The central male figure in this story gets cuckolded! Those of you, for whom this is a problem, should go on to something different. If you do decide to read on, please know that I have intended to portray him as an exceptionally strong character and anything but a wimp! However successful I have been doing that is, of course, in the eyes of the reader. Although Part 2 would probably stand on its own, reading Part 1 first should add a great deal to the over all story. * * * * * After 26 years of marriage to the finest man I could ever hope to know, I was on my way to my version of skydiving. I was off to sample the thrill of fucking another man. Not an affair. Just a one time, no strings attached, night of fucking and sucking, for nothing other than the sort of thrill that my husband got from his skydiving. I packed a very small bag with a change of underwear, a towel and some make-up, then drove off to meet Brian. I was well down the road when I noticed I had forgotten to fill the tank. I probably had enough gas but was determined to leave at first light in the morning and didn't want to run out. Once I was well on my way I realized that I had also left my mobile phone in Tim's Navigator when we were out together earlier in the week. There was a service centre on the highway a few minutes from the resort road where I stopped for gas, paid cash and moved on. The directions were easy to follow. The resort was on a local road less than 15 minutes off the interstate. It was a very pretty place built on the side of a lake. There were a string of cabins well spread along a dirt lane and I followed it to a copse of trees, behind which, there was a cabin, visibly more luxurious than the others. I parked my car and went to the door but before I reached it, Brian came out, kissed me on the cheek and hugged me. He asked if I was hungry or thirsty and after a small glass of wine he asked if I would like a little tour. I could see that he was trying to put me at ease and I was grateful. After a 20 minute tour of what was a really beautiful area, we returned to his cabin which was well stocked with prepared food and all kinds of booze. Brian said I was welcome to have a soda, wine or whatever but that if I didn't mind, he was going to have a martini. After he offered, I decided to have one too. After I had finished most of it, I went to look out at the scenery and a few moments later Brian came up behind me and put his arms around me, cupping my breasts in the process. I felt a thrill rush through me and it continued as he turned me around, kissed me passionately, led me inside, then undressed me. Once I was naked, I realized Brian had already stripped and was wearing only a terrycloth robe. He laid me gently on the bed and took off the robe giving me an opportunity to see him. Brian is as tall as Tim but is much bigger across the shoulders and chest. Everything else appeared to be about the same size and Brian did me the courtesy of putting a condom on his erect cock. He licked hungrily at my breasts for quite a while then moved down to lick my pussy. It didn't feel bad, but somehow not as exciting as I expected. Not having slept much for the past few nights, I put my lack of excitement down to being tired. It seemed he was at it for an unusually long time and it finally occurred to me to relax and let an orgasm come on. Although not earth shattering, I finally came and Brian moved up and pushed himself into me and now I was being fucked by the only man, besides my husband, ever to do so. In a few moments we established a rhythm and once again I concentrated on relaxing and once more, after a while, it worked and I came again. Moments later Brian came as well. He rolled his weight off me but put his arm around me and for the next while he encouraged me to relax and enjoy. As nice as he was trying to be, it all too late occurred to me that this was a mistake! I even remember briefly thinking that I hoped Tim got a bigger thrill out of his skydiving than I was getting from my adultery. It's funny how that word popped up! I hadn't thought of using the term until now. I had convinced myself (not a difficult task) that this was to be a thrill ride, like jumping from a plane, and had, consciously or otherwise, avoided "telling it like it is". Damn. Damn. Damn. Where in hell do all these classic lines come from? Some time later, Brian rolled away and then back with another condom, which he asked me to put on for him. Being out of practice, given Tim and I hadn't used them in the past 25+ years, I fumbled a bit with it but that seemed to turn Brian on and he seemed anxious to get on with it. This time he lasted much longer and try, as I did, I couldn't relax enough to cum, so I finally resorted to the age old practice of supporting your man's ego and faked it, something I don't recall ever having done with Tim. Initially, I couldn't tell if Brian was fooled, but it soon served its purpose as he came while I was at the height of my performance. We lay together for quite a while all the time Brian encouraging me to relax. When he finally got up he said he needed to shower and did I want to join him. I said no thanks as long as he didn't mind, so he went into the shower. I heard the water go on but he couldn't have done much more than get wet as he came out of it in a matter of less than a minute, I'm sure. He asked if I wanted another martini but I said no thanks. At that point I was thinking of ways I could get out of there. I had hoped that maybe Brian was done but I remembered the tales of his amazing recovery power and was reminded of not only that, but also the stories about him getting bigger as the night went on for when he took off the robe and sat at the side of the bed, his cock was noticeably swollen. I could see that it was bigger, as I had a first hand view when he, as he had done earlier, handed me the condom to put on him. I fumbled at it once again and once again it seemed to enflame him and I had no sooner got it on, when he pushed me back and began again to lick my nipples with renewed enthusiasm. I discovered I couldn't relax enough and finally realized that. . . I wasn't turned on by him at all! The fantasy was better than the reality! Yep, another classic line. Somewhere in the time Brian moved from my tits to my pussy and then pushed in to me, I made another in a series of very bad decisions. In my twisted thinking, it occurred to me that the sooner he got his rocks off, the sooner I would be able to leave. I did everything I could think of. I pushed back. I let my breathing get ragged. I licked and sucked on his neck and ear lobes. I drove my tongue into his mouth when he kissed me. I moaned and I groaned. I urged him to "fuck me" and I faked as many orgasms as I dared. I was thinking this was going to be an Academy Award performance. It worked, as Brian came more quickly than he had the last time. "That was fantastic!" he said as he rolled off me and lay back, catching his breath, "You're the best fuck of all! I wish I had invited you first. I may never have invited the others." "Thanks Brian, but this is a one time only event, entirely confidential, with no strings, right!" "Yeah! Sure!" he said as got up on his knees beside me. I was fearful of facing what came next but I had to know it was going to happen, as Brian pushed his large, semi erect cock into my face. Staying with the plan, I gave him the performance of a lifetime and licked and sucked with all the energy I could muster, moving as fast on him as I possibly could. I took the head into my mouth and ran my tongue back and forth under the knob of his cock. I licked up and down the sides and over his scrotum time after time. I racked my brain to remember all the things that Tim had told me he liked me to do. Brian was excited, he was swollen and he was hard, which was all the proof I needed of the stories, all of which, I had so forcefully insisted were exaggerations. They were not! He had already cum three times and he was still at it. I was near the point of giving up, when I could feel a swelling of his already large cock. Then, in spite of having cum three times in the last few hours, he almost filled my mouth. I swallowed it down. "Damn! You are by far the best cocksucker too." He exclaimed as he fell back on the bed, a look of extreme satisfaction on his face. For the next 40 minutes Brian tried to be accommodating. He offered to get me a drink or a sandwich. I declined both, but for himself, Brian poured a martini from the shaker into a mug and drank it down as he devoured a large bun stuffed with some kind of meat. While he did, I noticed it was 2:15 AM. All I wanted to do was go home. He asked if I'd like to get some air but I was too busy trying to think of how I could broach the subject of me leaving and by the time I realized what he said, he put on the robe and went out the door. He reappeared moments later and said it was a beautiful night and I should come out to see it. It was and it gave me the courage to ask if he minded if I called it a night. After his initial objection, we agreed on "one more for the road" and with an end in sight, I returned to the bed with enthusiasm. He put the condom on himself this time, then had me on all fours. I continued with my performance with the same results. He was turned right on and came seemingly as quickly as he had much earlier in the evening and by 3:30 AM my ordeal was apparently over. I showered, put on the change of underwear and threw the stuff I had worn there, into the garbage, then got dressed. When I returned to the bedroom to say goodnight, Brian had visibly had second thoughts about my leaving. I told him my mind was made up and that I was leaving, warning him that although I had come there on my own, detaining me would be an offence and as my husband already knew I was there, (I lied!) he had nothing that could keep me, except force. His mood had changed dramatically and more than a little fearful, I ran from the cabin. "Fuck you!" he shouted as I left. All the way home all I could think of was what an ass I was. I was home just after 6:00 AM and I headed straight for the shower. Scrub as I did, I could not wash the stench of adultery off my body. It's strange how easily that word "adultery" came to mind. It never occurred to me while I was planning it. At one point, while sitting on the floor of the shower cabinet, I began to laugh out loud like some kind of lunatic. Somehow, out of nowhere it occurred to me that I wished I had gone skydiving rather than do what I did! When I finally realized that I was not going to be able to wash my infidelity away, I dried off, put on a nightie and went to our bed where I dozed on and off for several hours then made coffee and a small snack. Afterwards I dozed on and off for the rest of the day and through the night; my conscience punishing me relentlessly. The telephone startled me! When I finally got myself together, I answered to hear Tim's voice ask if I was O.K.. I answered "yes" but said I wished (sincerely) he were home. He said he was only a few minutes away and did I need anything from the supermarket. I said no but added, "Tim, I love you!" "I love you too Babe. We need to talk when I get there." "There's a whole lot I need to tell you too Tim, but most of all, I love you! Hurry home!" Strangely, it seemed like Tim pulled into our driveway as soon as we hung up. I had no idea where to begin but I knew I had to tell Tim of my foolishness. I had thought to spare him the hurt and embarrassment but I knew it would be worse if he found out elsewhere. Brian seemed quite angry when I left and might not live up to his word. Besides, I knew Tim loved me and I knew I'd get a fair hearing if nothing else. I ran into his arms the moment he came through the door and felt comfort and reassurance there, but when we finally broke apart I could see he was tired and worn looking. I was embarrassed to realize that I had no idea where his meeting had been or how long he had been traveling. Well, no matter! He's home now and that's what counts. "Tim, I've done something selfish and foolish and I need to tell you about it." As I spoke the words, I looked into his face and was taken back immediately. He looked sad, tired and worn out already. He must have been a long way out and had had a long drive home. I got us coffee, then we sat in our living room where I proceeded to tell all. "I love you Tim! More than I know how to say, but in spite of that I've selfishly satisfied my own curiosity by meeting and fucking Brian!" "I'm so sorry!" "I had originally planned to do it when you were not home to satisfy my curiosity and never tell you. I cannot do that. In spite of my embarrassment over what I've done and even knowing how I have hurt and embarrassed you, I can't keep it from you. The original deal with Brian was to spend the whole night. Very early in the evening I discovered that it was no great fun at all and that there was no thrill. I just felt stupid and dirty and I just wanted to leave and when I finally did, it pissed Brian off. I decided that leaving was more important than keeping him happy, so I left." As I was speaking, Tim's expression seemed to hold fast, not changing at all. He was tired and, now that I think of it, very, very sad. As we sat in silence for a while it finally dawned on me why. "Damn you Em!" he said, as his eyes began to tear. "Damn you!" As bad as the experience had been Friday night; as bad as it had been that day while I was waiting for Tim to finish his skydive, I have never felt such pain as I did looking into his eyes, as I told him of my idiocy with Brian. Never, in my wildest imagination, did I realize how much this would hurt him and seeing him in such pain and knowing I caused it, hurt me even more. The worst part was realizing Tim already knew something had transpired. It was a long night. Tim made it clear he wanted none of the details. He had stopped on his way out to meet up with some of the guys who were attending his presentation and had seen me pull out of the service station on my way up. He had attempted to follow me to try to stop me, but by the time he got into his car and got on to the highway, I was nowhere to be seen. I remembered the resort road was only a few minutes past the service station. He had tried calling my mobile, only to hear it ring inside his own vehicle. He had spent the past two nights suspecting the worst and hoping for the best. He also said, as he had promised, he would do his best to handle it. Things were pretty uncomfortable around our home for the next few days. Tim spent a lot of time sitting in his home office or out walking around the property by himself, deep in thought and in pain. I felt the pain too, but it was my doing that had caused it. I had it coming! Tim didn't. Without consulting him, I gave notice at the company and indicated I would be finished in two weeks. Finally, exactly one week later, Tim asked if I'd like to play some golf. We played nine and although still a little tense, things were better. We ate dinner at the club and Tim opened a bottle of wine when we got home that evening and seeing that, I showered and dressed in a negligee and short housecoat before joining him for a drink. We sat on the deck and as I enjoyed the drink he got for me, he stood behind me and began to massage my shoulders. Tim gives the best massages but in this case I was ecstatic just to feel his loving touch. From there we went to our bed and, once in it, Tim kissed me, gently at first, then more and more passionately. He started moving his kisses down to my neck then, after removing what little I was wearing, spent a very long time sucking on each nipple. My excitement level was very high and by the time he got to my pussy, I went over the top. As I gradually came back down from that incredible high, I realized he was still there, licking and sucking my clit. This was new, and certainly effective, as a few minutes later I came again. This time he crawled up and kissed me again, our tongues battling and I could taste myself on him. After a brief rest, I started to reciprocate. I worked my way down to his erect cock and took it into my mouth, savoring not only the taste, but the closeness of what I knew was the only man I would ever want. I felt gratitude and joy in having such a wonderful, forgiving man. My joy rapidly turned to concern! Tim was wilting in my mouth. His lovely erection was fading. I renewed my efforts but to no avail and after a while he pulled me gently up beside him. "Tim! I'm so sorry. I've been a fool." I said, the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Easy on yourself Babe!" he answered, chuckling a little, "This is the price you pay when you get older. It was going to happen sooner or later. We'll survive!" It a way it made me both happier to have him respond like that and sadder to realize what a wonderful man I have wronged. Twice more during the following week we tried making love but although he was initially hard, it didn't stay that way and we were unable to bring him to orgasm. Both times however, he had eaten me to a delicious climax beforehand. On the third attempt, rightly or wrongly, I insisted that we get him off first and after a valiant effort but with no success, we gave up and he held me for the rest of the night. By this time I had finished at work so Tim and I were together all day and all night and our relationship became even more strained over the next two weeks. Then Tim had another seminar and had to be away both Friday and Saturday. As it was just two days, we had never got into the habit of him calling while away. He always left his hotel information when he travelled and, of course, he had his mobile phone, but this time I asked, "Would you call me each evening please?" "Sure." Was his response and he kissed me and off he went that Friday afternoon. About 6:15 that evening my phone rang. It was Tim. He told me it was an easy flight that got off on time and arrived early. He confirmed his accommodation information and that he expected tonight's meeting to end about 9:00 or 9:30 and tomorrow they would go from about 10:00 AM to 5:30 or 6:00. Most of the participants lived locally and would go home. A few, like him, would stay and catch an early flight Sunday morning. I asked him if he would call again after his meetings finished later that night. "Em, I'm not going to start checking up on you every time I'm away. That's no way for us to live. I'll be home about noon on Sunday." By the time that conversation ended I was wishing it had never started. Tim had every right to check up on me. I had lied, albeit silently, and I had cheated, yet he continued to trust me as he always had. As promised, he called that Saturday night, again at about dinnertime and again declined to call later. It amused me to think that maybe he didn't want to call later because he had something going on. If he did, I certainly had it coming. By 10:00PM, I was no longer amused. What is it they say, . . ."Liars think everyone else is a liar.", "Cheaters think everyone else is a cheater."? (Two classic lines in one!) I called Tim's room about 10:05. He answered immediately. I told him I was lonely and I needed to hear his voice. He was so sweet and we talked about his presentation and some of the characters he met there and after a while when there was little left to say, he invited me to call anytime through the night if I needed to talk I didn't, but knowing I was invited to, made me feel a lot better. We didn't even try making love the following week. It was as if we were both afraid of failure. A Classic Line Ch. 02 A week later Tim was out Monday afternoon and when he returned, we made supper on the deck and shared a bottle of red wine. "I saw Dr. Carlson this afternoon." He said without preamble. "I told him I was having trouble maintaining an erection. He checked me over and said he couldn't find anything wrong but that sometimes all we need is a "kick start" so he prescribed viagra. He said he would speak to you too if you want." "WHY WOULD HE HAVE TO SPEAK TO ME?" I asked with all too much force, fearing that Tim had somehow told him of my idiocy? Tim smiled and replied, "Calm down Babe. He said that he would reassure you that sometimes we men, even though the feelings of lust and love are still there, can't get the plumbing to work every time and that you shouldn't feel bad about it." I'm a lying, cheating idiot, whose husband is worried about my feelings. I don't deserve this. BUT I'M GOING TO DESERVE IT! I'm going to be the best wife this man could ever have or want. That night we managed to fuck! In many ways it was like that first time in the hotel many years ago, without the condom. We were both anxious and when we finally got it done, we were relieved. Next day, Tim played in the Club Handicap Championship qualifying round at our golf club and after he was done he called. "Let's get away for the weekend Babe. I'd like to try a new resort I heard about today that's just over the state line in Alabama. What do you say?" It was like a new start and I was excited but, as we drove to this new resort, that changed! We passed the service center where Tim had seen me that night and, of course, we were heading toward the road to the cabins where I had met Brian. I was alarmed! Tim seemed not to notice and we drove right by the end of the resort road and, after a while, I began to relax again. Almost two hours later we arrived at a brand new tourist resort over looking a large lake. Upon arrival and check-in we went for a walk. Tim bought me flowers at a roadside stand and, not surprisingly, there was a vase and some of that powder waiting in our room when we returned. We went out for dinner and dancing and, on getting back to our room, Tim took his pill, then later we made love and snuggled together for the rest of the night. The next day we played golf then relaxed by the pool for the rest of the afternoon. We had a long and leisurely dinner at a local restaurant that had come highly recommended, then stopped at a nice lounge on the way back to the resort for a nightcap. I was beginning to believe we were going to get through all the trouble that I had caused when . . . the worst possible thing happened. Brian came into the lounge! Within moments a whole lot of things became very clear, for right behind him was . . . another Brian! They were twins. From this distance, and from a whole lot closer than that, as I am ashamed to recall, you could not tell one from the other. One of them, I remembered, was hung better than the other and when one of them spotted me sitting there and poked the brother, drawing his attention to me, I found another way to tell them apart. The look on one face was evil! The other looked mildly embarrassed. To my horror, he headed directly to our table and as I started to ask Tim to leave, he was upon us. "Well, well, well! If it isn't Emily and this must be the cuckold, wimp husband." He held out his hand and his face was twisted into a hateful sneer as he spoke, but Tim just smiled and shook his hand. "Yeah. Well. . . I guess I am. We're just leaving. Excuse us please." "You can't leave before we buy you a drink and tell you what a great fuck your wife is!" he said, evil dripping from every word. "Come on Brad. Leave them alone." Said the "other" Brian who had come up behind him. "Nah. We can't leave. I was thinking that maybe the wimp here would like to watch." Then he leaned down as if to whisper in Tim's ear but said loudly, "She was by far the best fuck of all the women from that office. We'd like to fuck her again and we're going to let you watch. You can even eat her out when we're done! You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Tim turned calmly to face the one we now knew was Brad and said it a very calm but loud voice, "No I wouldn't. Would you PLEASE go away and leave us alone." "Don't be shy." Brad continued. "Think of your wife. She loves fucking and sucking us and I'm sure she get off having you watch." Tim repeated himself. "PLEASE go away and leave us alone. We don't want any trouble." "Why the fuck should I?" Brad growled. In the softest but coldest of voices, Tim said, "Because if you don't, you'll hurt yourself!" Brad lost his cool. "Fuck you!" he said as he grabbed at Tim's arm. As I had seen him do once before, Tim moved so fast it is impossible to say just exactly what he did, but the effects of it were plain for all to see. Tim slammed Brad's face into our table, probably breaking at least his nose and spraying blood all over it and my blouse. He twisted Brad's arm up behind his back then yanked, hard, making a crunching sound. Brad screamed! Tim turned like a ballet master to face Brian who was coming to his brother's aid. He jammed the heel of his hand right into Brian's nose, once again sending blood across the table, then Brian too had his arm twisted behind his back, apparently enough to dislocate his shoulder. He too screamed and he too was sprawled across our table. I looked up to see Tim turn to the flabbergasted bar tender and calmly request that he call the police and an ambulance. He then turned to me and gently took my arm and led me to another table from which he requested a glass of brandy for me. A few people actually came over and thanked Tim. Apparently we were not the first couple to be harassed by the one who turned out to be Brad. When the paramedics arrived Tim pointed at the two now sitting, but laying their heads on the table. "Over there. Broken nose and dislocated shoulder." He said calmly. "Which one?" "Both." When the police arrived, almost half the patrons in the room told them that they were the aggressors, that Tim had asked them to "please" leave us alone, that Brad had continued his aggressive behavior and that Tim had only defended himself. After a while they took Tim's name and address and told us we could go. Unfortunately, as if all this wasn't bad enough, there was a local reporter there and we later learned there was an article in the local paper about the incident. Without discussion we went back to the resort and our room, packed and headed for home with me sobbing all the way. Tim was distant for the following week. Among the few words he uttered was to ask me to stop apologizing. "What's done is done!" he said. "We need to try to look forward." It seems that even Tim has some classic lines. The following weekend Tim asked me to play golf and we ended up in a foursome with another couple we had recently met at the club. Once we were underway it became an enjoyable afternoon and once again I started to hope we could mend the hurt from my stupid infidelity, but that was not to be. As soon as we were back in the clubhouse there were several people who had heard about the brawl at the lounge in Alabama and wanted to hear Tim's version. Tim quietly answered that he was sorry but didn't want to talk about it, then, as soon as we could, we left for home. Over the next two months, Tim, true to his word, did his best. He took me out for dinner, to the theatre, for walks in the forest near our home and even a long weekend in Bahamas. We tried talking through things but it was apparent that Tim was drifting away. I finally suggested we try living apart for a while, hoping it would illicit some concern on Tim's part. I was shocked to see the look of relief on his face as he immediately offered to get a place of his own. During the three months that followed, we got together two or three times a month for dinner or a drink, but no amount of apology from me nor kindness from Tim could breach the gap. Seven months after I fucked Brian and, apparently, Brad, I came to the full realization that I had completely fucked up my own life and Tim's and when he suggested a divorce to allow us to get on with our lives, I agreed. Tim, being Tim, had let the kids believe that we had drifted apart but I told them both what I had done and how far their father had gone to try deal with it. They were both visibly appalled and although they still drop in to see me now and then, we seem to have lost the familial intimacy we once had. Ronald, our son, who was most hurt when I told them what I had done, was the one to tell me that Dad was seeing Melissa Jameson, a neighbor from the old community where we used to live before we built the "dream" home I now live in. . . alone. I know Ron was angry and told me that to hurt me. I didn't react, as I knew I had it coming. I a perverse way I was relieved! Although I'm not unbiased, I believe that most women would regard Tim as extraordinarily handsome and I knew he could attract the attention of women more glamorous than Melissa Jameson. Although a very nice person, she has always been somewhat "mousey", meek and shy. Not really Tim's type. If it had been one of Carl Moore's sisters, I would have been worried. They are both glamorous and sexy and had already long ago indicated to Tim that they were interested. At best, Melissa wouldn't be much more than a friend for Tim to talk to. It occurred to me that maybe this was an indication that Tim wasn't really seeking to replace me. I began once again to dream of a reconciliation. I was shopping for a new outfit as I expected Tim would probably call and ask me out for a drink or dinner soon. He usually did that about once or twice a month so we could each get caught up on the kids. There was a woman looking through the same clothing rack as me and when she turned, I realized she was familiar but I couldn't place her. She was very attractive and looked to be quite sexily dressed for an evening on the town. "Hello Em." she said, with a hint of an embarrassed blush. "How are you?" I tried to place her but could not, although she was definitely familiar and I felt I should know her. "I guess this is a little uncomfortable Em. You do know I'm seeing Tim?" Recognition dawned and I smiled and said, "Yes Melissa, I do know that and wish you both well." "Thanks Em." She said more confidently as she waved goodbye and headed for the cashier. This was not the "mousey", meek and shy Melissa Jameson I remember. She looked lovely and sexy and seemed much more poised and confident than my recollection of her and as that recognition dawned on me, I began to suspect there would be no reconciliation with Tim. It's amazing what the attention of a fine man like Tim can do for a woman, to help her look her best! I have done myself in and hurt a wonderful man in the process. All over seeking a thrill, like skydiving from an airplane. I wish I knew then what I know now. Don't tell me! I know, another classic line. A Classic Line That night we danced until the band quit then went home and snuggled together for the rest of the night. Because of the training meetings and the extra work involved, I was asked to work some full time days, so I agreed to work a few whole days before and after the training week as well as that week. The girls were almost laughable as they tripped over themselves trying to impress Brian. He seemed to enjoy the attention and sure enough, mid way through the week, he invited Ellen to a cabin party for the Friday night following training week. Apparently this guy goes all out for these nights treating the girls to a private cabin at a resort about 1 ½ - 2 hours out of town. The following Monday, Ellen returned to work and as I was there still for the full days following the training week, I listened as she told very similar tales to what the other 2 had related. It was either a case of having to live up to the lies or maybe . . . maybe there was some truth to it all! On Wednesday of that week, my last full day, Ellen and I were returning borrowed and rented presentation equipment and materials and stopped for lunch together. During lunch she continued to insist the stories were true, that he had cum at least 5 times she counted and that later in the evening his cock swelled enough to be noticeably larger. What she added, however, was that once into the sex, Brian got a little moody and his fucking and sucking would become a little rougher sometimes, but that after he got off, he returned to the more likeable man he initially appeared to be. Needless to say, these stories fuelled some more great times for Tim and I. During one of our bouts while Tim had me on all fours and was pounding away from behind, I spontaneously yelled out "Fuck me Brian. Fuck me." Playing the role, Tim as Brian, pounded at me and the two of us got off like nothing before in recent years. The force of the orgasm caused me to momentarily lose my balance and Tim and I collapsed in a heap on our bed. Some time later as I regained my composure, I realized that Tim, although looking right at me, was miles away in his thoughts. "Are you O.K.?" I asked. "This business of this guy Brian has taken on a lot more significance than I ever imagined." He answered, "Is there some kind of message in this Em? Don't get me wrong. The sex is great, but for me, it is great because I'm with you, even when we get off pretending I'm someone else, but you seem to be more into this guy than any other fantasies we have shared." "Are you jealous?" Tim obviously missed that I was teasing as he was giving my question much more thought than I intended. "Yes I am! But . . . " he added, " a little jealousy won't do me any harm and you, my love are well worth it. Besides, you appeared to be somewhat jealous last weekend at the Moore's garden party when Carl's sisters had me cornered." That hit a nerve. Those two women weren't much older than our daughter and both recently divorced and both giving Tim a "come on" that the Pope would have had trouble not responding to. Damn right. It pissed me off! "Touché!" I answered. "I suppose I'm pleased that you care enough to be jealous but somehow I wish you weren't about this. You know I've never had anyone but you and I have nothing to compare you to. I cannot imagine anyone being anywhere near as good. I've listened to girlfriends talk about their boyfriend's and husbands for years and, if their descriptions are even close, you are far better than the best of their men and, better or not, you're the one I love and the only one I want to love." "Tim, I do love you more than I know how to say but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being curious about what being with someone like Brian would be like!" A pained look passed over Tim's face but he covered it well and in moments it was gone, replaced by that pensive look once again. I continued, "Tim, we've read the stories and surely you must know that there are people who separate sex from love." "No doubt," he answered, "but I'm afraid I may not be one of them. It was important to me to appreciate and respect your faithfulness when I was away. I never questioned it and I'm not questioning it now, but it remains important to me even though I've told you I was not faithful! I don't want to try to make excuses Em but those times over there were awful and people, including me, did things no "normal" person would do. I'm sure I'm not one of those guys who gets off on knowing his wife fucks other men and I sure as hell don't want to watch it or even hear about it." He looked at me with an intensely serious expression on his face "I'm not sure what just happened Em, but I do know I love you and I do feel you've got a bee in your bonnet over this guy. I can only tell you I have no idea how I would handle it if you decided to act on it, other than to promise to try to get past it." I have no idea why, but it somehow became important to me to convince Tim that no matter how sexy or sexually talented someone else may be, I only loved and wanted him and only him. Anything else I would do would not amount to much more than a physical thrill. . . . like skydiving! Maybe I was just looking for a way to fuck a guy like Brian and keep a husband like Tim! No matter. I wasn't about to do anything like that anyway. At least, I didn't think I was! I finished that extra time assignment and our lives went on. Those months were among the best we spent together, golfing, traveling to exotic places and rediscovering each other's sexuality. I think I read somewhere that Freud said that the only real sexual perversion among humans, was no sex at all. Well, by Freud's standards, we sure as hell weren't perverted! I was surprised and more than delighted at Tim's imagination, and sometimes a little shocked at my own. Those were great times. Tim was as loving a husband as anyone could ask for. He called from the golf course or the kid's club to ask if I would go out to dinner. He bought me flowers. He must have listened carefully to me ramble on about things I said I'd like to do. I'm sure, that at one time or another, we did them all. An opera, live theatre, a trip to New York City to Ground Zero, a romantic week in the Bahamas, all things I had mentioned at one time or another and he arranged them. My girlfriends commented on several occasions that retirement looked good on me. It's amazing what the attention of a fine man like Tim can do for a woman, to help her look her best! I could not have loved him more. Roughly 6 months after the last training session at my work, a new one was organized and once again I took on a temporary full time assignment. On the Friday before the training began, Brian arrived in town. This time, in spite of the three of them falling all over themselves to attract his attentions, he seemed uninterested and kept to business. Perhaps because I found Brian so sexual, the following weekend Tim and I exceeded ourselves. On the following Monday I was pleasantly surprised and more than a little flattered by Brian's almost singular attention both before the meetings and during the breaks and wasn't sure how I felt when, later, Ellen explained that, as she and the others weren't getting anywhere, she had mentioned to Brian that I might be interested. Talk about "being conflicted"! Now there's another classic line! That week Tim and I made love with one another and fucked ourselves to exhaustion a total of 5 times by my count and, for recent years and for our age, that was a new record. On the Friday of that week Brian approached me and in a soft, confidential voice said, "Emily, I know you are married and I understand, happily, but if you are interested in spending a night at the "cabin" I'd be pleased to have you come with me. It does not have to be public knowledge like Ellen and the others have made it. I can keep a secret. It must be obvious to you that I'm not looking for a long term relationship and from what I hear about your marriage, neither are you." The wide range of emotions that flooded through me at that moment made it impossible to say anything. Flattery, sexual excitement, fear, my love for my husband Tim and many more I probably cannot identify. Brian continued, "I don't need an answer just now. I'm going to be at the cabin in 2 weeks on Friday the 24th from about 4:00PM. Here's my card. If you're coming, give me a call by the 21st O.K.?" I dumbly nodded my head and Brian left. I looked around the office and managed to confirm that no one else was there and able to overhear us. As I sorted through my emotions, no longer being distracted by Brian being right there, my first thought was Tim. I realized that I wanted to fuck Brian! It was flattering to have a handsome young man at least 15 years my junior hit on me like that. His reputation for his sexual prowess was also intriguing, but as attractive as all that was, I felt that if I was going to lose Tim over it, I wouldn't go near the place. The last of the emotions I realized, was hope! Hope that Tim would trust in my love for him and allow me to go for this "no strings attached" fling. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, beyond the physical thrill of accepting Brian's invitation, there was a much, much stronger bond with Tim. What the hell! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Damn it! That's another . . . classic line. "Tim, can we go out on the deck and talk?" I asked as soon as dinner was finished. The look of wariness on his face made me want to forget about it, and walk away from Brian's invitation but Tim covered it as fast as it happened and said "Sure." as he headed out the garden door to the deck, his full wineglass in his hand. I refilled my glass then followed him to the deck and when we were both seated and comfortable I told him of Brian's proposition. I held nothing back making sure he knew that he was the most important thing in my life and that I wasn't going to do anything that would change that. I tried to have him see that it was not unlike him going skydiving. "Why is spending an evening with this young hunk different than that?" I asked. "Well, to me sex between a man and a woman is a great deal more intimate than freefalling a few miles from a plane." "There is intimacy when someone, who loves you like I do, has to suffer through it, fearing the worst while you are falling from that airplane and there is even more intimacy involved, or more correctly, lack of it, if you actually do die and I'm left alone. Tim, I love you so much and I know you love me. What I would do with him would be just a thrill like you got skydiving! It's just sex!" Shit! There's another classic line. After much banter back and forth, the desires and concerns were out in the open, but at least we had got through it without hurting one another too badly, at least I thought we did. Tim thanked me for being open and telling him about Brian's proposition and summed it up by saying that I would have to decide what I was going to do; that he had no idea how he would handle it or, if he even could, but that he did love me and he would try his best. That I did not understand. Tim has to know how much I love him and only him. I believed then and I believe now that what I wanted to do with Brian was to have the same kind of excitement Tim had when he jumped out of that airplane. What I failed to recognize was, that in this instance, it would be what Tim would believe that would matter to us both! For the next several days there was obvious tension in our home, something neither of us has seen since long before our kids moved out and I decided once and for all that fucking Brian wasn't worth all this. I decided that as soon as I got home that night, I would tell Tim that I wasn't going on Friday night. Then fate stepped in! You guessed it, . . . another classic line. When I got to work that Tuesday before the cabin date for Friday, there was a note from Brian, apologizing profusely, but he could not make it on the 24th and offering to postpone to the 1st. I checked my calendar to discover that Tim had a seminar that weekend and would be out of town. Maybe there was a way to find out what it would be like to fuck Brian without hurting Tim! What he doesn't know can't hurt him! Classic line! Wow. I seem to be full of them. When I got home that night I called my friend Irene. Irene and I have been best friends since grade school and she and her husband Cliff live about an hour away. I asked if they could join us for a barbeque supper Friday night and stay over so we could catch up on old times and maybe the four of us could get in a round of golf Saturday afternoon before they headed back home. About an hour later, after checking it with Cliff, she called me back to confirm. That night I casually told Tim that I had invited them for Friday and that he should reserve a tee time for us for Saturday afternoon at the club. Tim stared for a moment then smiled that wonderful smile I was so much in love with and said no more. That made my conscience feel, only a very little bit, better! I've since learned that there is such a thing as "silent lying". That night Tim went all out. I got a complete body massage (complete meaning with at least two orgasms) and I finished him off doggie style as he mauled both my tits. Friday morning I got breakfast in bed while Tim cut the lawn and generally got set up to entertain our guests. Spending time with Irene and Cliff was so much fun, I completely forgot about Brian and the coming Friday night. They ended up staying until Sunday. Tim and Cliff seemed to enjoy each other as much as Irene and I did and they got in another round of golf on Sunday morning. When they left late Sunday afternoon we were tired but very, very happy. Back to my 4 hours on Monday I could not help but be reminded of the coming Friday night and my meeting with Brian. I was experiencing a mixture of excitement and guilt. I dealt with the guilt by convincing myself that I would be doing much the same as Tim, when he was skydiving. It would be a thrill. No one would get hurt. No one would ever know. Famous last words! Damn! Another one. Wednesday Brian called the office to confirm I would be there and I said yes reminding him that this was a no-strings-attached deal and he had told me, "No one will find out." He agreed and reminded me that this was an all-night deal and that, although he was sure I would, I was agreeing to stay the night. Otherwise, it wasn't worth the cost of the cabin. I agreed. I hardly slept at all that Wednesday night. Thursday was worse. I got little or nothing done around the house and I was jumpy as hell. My only respite from it all came from Tim, who took me in his arms and held me before making wonderfully, gentle love with me, then held me again until he was fast asleep. I don't think I got to sleep at all. After some necessary shopping on Friday I went home to see Tim off and we made love once again on the sofa before he had to rush off. Just as he did he said something about when he would be home but I was too preoccupied to hear. (To be continued.)