26 comments/ 88754 views/ 10 favorites Best of Both Worlds Ch. 02 By: andrewpeters I had quite a rough time dealing with myself for the first weeks after I'd cheated on my husband Bill for the first time. I knew that I loved him, and always would love him, and that he would always love me. But I couldn't forget that afternoon with Jacques. I don't know why I had been unfaithful. Maybe if I just saw him again I would realize that it was wrong, just a weak moment in my life. My conscience worked overtime, part of it telling me that I was stupid to even think about that afternoon, part of me telling me that I was strong enough to face him and not give in, part of it telling me I had to see him again. So, about a month later I decided to prove to myself that it had just been a weak moment, and walked into his store. Yeah, right, as soon as he saw me he came over and hugged me, giving me the French greeting, kissing both my cheeks, and then really frenched me, our tongues duelling. I tried to pull away, but couldn't pull away. How could something so wrong feel so right! The 'Closed' sign was put in the door and he led me to the back room, pulling our clothes off as we went. I hope nobody was approaching the door then, for they would have had quite a sight. This time he pushed me down first, and started sucking my pussy right through my panties, until I came. By the time he pulled them off, they were useless, to wet to wear again. I begged him to fuck me, and fuck me he did. He thrust his cock into me and fucked me harder than I ever had been fucked before. When I walked out of there, I couldn't believe how sore my pussy was. Now when I look back, I don't know if it was any more special than when Bill and I did it, especially in our earlier years together, but maybe it was the newness, and the knowledge that I was doing something I shouldn't be doing that made it seem more exciting. That and his voice, as he told me how good I was, and how beautiful. I bought it like a sale item of my favourite crystal. Still as I drove home, I felt guilt, though not as strongly as before. "Bill won't find out, and I still love him, more than anything" I told myself, "and besides, I've given him better loving in the last few weeks than we've had in quite a while. After all, it's just sex, I know I won't do it for ever, but it just feels so good, surely it's not that wrong. Maybe Jacques is right, and Bill has had a lover too." It's funny, that last thought about Bill, in my heart I knew he had never cheated on me, and I know that I would have been devastated if he had, but in my mind, I accepted it, after all, it helped me justify what I was doing. I knew I loved Bill and wanted to treat him well, but I shied away a little from the overt sexual activity of the previous weeks. I'm sure he didn't mind, after all he should have been a little worn out. After fighting with myself for a couple more weeks, I knew I had to see Jacques again, but was concerned about just dropping into his store, and being out of the office too long. Thus with some trepidation I phoned him, and was delighted with his response. He suggested we meet for lunch the next day at his apartment, near the store. That afternoon, when I finished work I stopped at Victoria's Secret, and bought myself some sexy lingerie, no more plain bras and cotton panties for Jacques, then a new dress at another shop. as I tried them on, I knew that Bill would love them too. The next morning, I dressed in the sexy bra and thong panties that I had bought, along with the sheer stockings and garter belt. I was glad Bill had left early this morning for a breakfast meeting, for I didn't want him to see them first. After spending a nervous morning at work, I arrived at Jacques apartment. Again he greeted me with a hug, but when he started to reach for the zipper on my dress, I stopped him, and told him to leave it to me. Then I started to dance for him, trying to do a sexy strip tease. The look of lust in his eyes, along with the sexy comments he made as I stepped out of my dress and stood before him in my sexy underwear made the effort more than worth while. When I finally stripped out of the panties, he had taken his clothes off and from the size of his cock, was more than ready for me. We fell on his bed and got into a sixty-nine. The more he flicked his tongue over my clit, the harder I sucked his cock. To my delight I managed to bring him off before I came, his sperm was spewing into my throat as a powerful orgasm hit me. This time instead of immediately trying to fuck me, he started to lick me again. Intense feelings burst out, as he probed with his tongue, while moving his hand to my clit until an orgasm unlike anything I had ever experienced burst over me. As I came down he rolled me over and fucked me doggy style, while reaching in front and squeezing my tits. Afterwards, I laughed and told him that if we kept meeting like this, I'd be able to treat it like a diet, having missed lunch and got plenty of aerobic exercise. Over the next months we continued to meet almost every Thursdays at lunch hour. On a couple of occasions, when work prevented me from making our 'date', I suggested a make up, but Jacques told me that these were the only days that he could get together. Those 'nooners' were intoxicating, just like the spell Jacques cast over me. For the first while, I still felt vestiges of guilt at what I was doing, but gradually these faded. I convinced myself that it was just sex, mind you incredible sex. I loved Bill, and knew he loved me. When Bill and I made love, I went all out, to show him the love that I felt for him, a love that was as strong as it always had been. There were times that I really felt guilty, times when Bill suggested getting together for lunch. Now this was something that we didn't do often, but liked to occasionally. I always enjoyed it, because it was special. Now, if Bill suggested it on a Thursday, I came up with excuses about prior plans to meet with friends, knowing that he would accept the excuse, and knowing we'd get together some other day. I must admit that when I turned him down I'd feel particularly guilty, knowing that I was getting fucked by Jacques, instead of having lunch with my loving husband. But at the same time, there were a few occasions I cancelled on Jacques. One of these was our anniversary, there was no way I was going to fuck somebody else on that special day, a day to celebrate our love for each other. I made sure that I wore the new lingerie for Bill soon after I had its initial showing with Jacques. Bill commented how much he liked it, and how he missed the sexy underwear I used to wear regularly. That night, he was all over me, tonguing me through the panties before ripping them off and making love to me. Later as I was trying to fall asleep, I realized that when with Bill, we truly made love, but when with Jacques, I got fucked. Responding to how both Bill and Jacques had appreciated the sexy lingerie, I had gone back to Victoria's Secret and purchased several outfits. When I got home, I hid the outfits in a bag in the closet in the spare room, knowing that Bill would never go in there. I was happy that Bill appeared to appreciate my sexy new underwear, and I made sure to model every outfit for him over time. There was only one time that I got a little concerned, and that was when Bill asked if I had ever seen that glassblower with the sexy voice again. I momentarily panicked, but I'm sure that I set his mind at ease when I laughed and told him no, but he'd better watch it because I might be fantasizing about him while we made love. I realized that we didn't make love as often, and once I actually rebuffed him. The hurt and distant look in his eyes that night made me feel guilty all over again. But that was the day Jacques had fucked me in my virgin ass hole. I was afraid that if Bill went down on me, he might notice that it was red and a bit inflamed. I also tried to avoid sex on the days that I'd been with Jacques, as I didn't want Bill to inadvertently taste his cum. I rationalized it by telling myself that while we may not do it as often, I put my everything into it when we did it, and I know from his reactions that Bill enjoyed himself. Now, I hadn't intended to let Jacques have my ass, for I knew that it was wrong to let him do what I refused to let Bill do. But the feelings I felt as he had fingered my ass and licked it, on numerous occasions, helped me overcome my inhibitions. Finally one day, he had been orally performing on me, licking my pussy and my ass to the point that I was just flowing, but he hadn't let me cum yet. Suddenly he lifted his head and told me to roll over. I loved to be fucked doggy style and was more than willing, knowing that a huge orgasm was soon to be mine. He slid his cock into my gaping pussy from behind. After a few strokes he pulled it out, and to my surprise, I felt it push up against my ass hole. I didn't want it there, but he told me that if I wanted to cum, I would have to beg for it. I was so wired, that I couldn't help myself, and found myself saying 'Please Jacques, I need it so bad, I need to cum! Fuck me in the ass!" Surprisingly enough, it hurt, but not nearly as much as I expected. He was gentle, sliding his cock slowly into me, pausing every so often as it moved further inside. Suddenly he was all the way in, did I ever feel full. He slowly started stroking in and out, and the my body soon accepted it, and the intense feelings I had already building, soon reached overload, and I came with his cock in my ass. I think that it was the intensity of the orgasm and the way I squirmed about that caused him to shoot his load up into my upturned ass as I finished up my orgasm. This seemed to be a one time affair, for I much preferred it when Jacques rammed his cock into my pussy. Still, I felt guilty because I'd done it with Jacques, and not Bill. And then there was the day that Jacques talked me into shaving off my pubic hair, god if felt so naughty when he started to lick my clean shaven pussy. That night I was embarrassed wondering how I was going to explain the new look to Bill. I changed quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice, and stayed on my side of the bed, telling him that I was awfully tired tonight. The next night, just before bedtime, I went into the bathroom and lathered my mound with shaving gel. I timed it perfectly, as Bill walked in I was just wiping the last of it away , "Oh, Bill, you ruined my surprise, one of the girls at work was telling how she did this and how it turned her man on, and I had to try it for you." I could tell by his reaction that he loved it, and the orgasm he gave me from his tongue was incredible. How lucky could I be? I had a young, hunk who desired me. Now I was smart enough to know it wouldn't last, that he'd find a girl closer to his age and that would be it, but for now, he wanted me, and have me he did. Not only that, but I had the best husband I could possibly hope for. I was totally in love with him, and I knew he loved me just as much. Things couldn't be any better! Clearly, I had the best of both worlds! Best of Both Worlds Ch. 02 The first chapter of Best of Both Worlds told how I got to know my shy blonde classmate Robyn, and discovered to my delight that she had a fully functional little cock, and described how we spent our first night together. So, maybe read that first. I thought this would be a single-episode story, and much appreciate the reader who said s/he got off on it so much that s/he was looking forward to the sequel; and that got me thinking... ....................... Robyn and I immediately began to spend as much time as we could together, both of us amazed to find a lover who fulfilled our most private erotic imaginings and fantasies. I'd like to tell you how our sex life together developed. When we were together in the evening, Robyn liked to wear a loose skirt, and began to tease me as we talked by raising a knee and giving me a glimpse of her panties. The panties she always wore were plain and straightforward and quite tight, either simple white briefs or boy shorts, but in both cases panties that could hold her little cock in, and avoid any tell-tale bulge when she was wearing jeans. In the evenings she generally wore the simple white briefs, and soon realised how immediately I responded to these quick flashes; she would smile, and then give me a slightly longer look, before tucking her knees demurely down again beneath her skirt. But of course she was inviting me to look at her and respond to her, and she began to leave one knee raised as she talked, with her hands casually wrapped round it, but showing me the whole swathe of white cotton that covered her cock. The first time she stayed sitting like this, we just went on talking; she was clearly amused that she could see how distracting her panty-play was, before we went off to bed and fucked each other silly. But the next evening I moved beside her on the sofa when she flashed her panties, and began to stroke her thighs, before reaching further to that band of cotton, gently feeling round the shape of her little cock and balls through the material, and thrilled to feel her tense and stiffen between my fingers. Soon her cock was hard and upright in her panties, and I went on tickling and softly stroking it through the white cotton, teasing her by touching her so gently, but also beginning to set up a steady rhythm with my hand as she pressed against me. And soon I felt that familiar tell-tale extra stiffening as she pressed her rigid little shaft against my hand, and she gasped as she spurted into her panties, with a delicious wet stain spreading out across the white cotton. I leaned forward and kissed the tip through the fabric as she finished coming, and sucked some of the sweet cum out of the cotton, before pulling the panties aside and gently licking the final drops from around her tip and her soft foreskin. A few days later, we were sitting as usual after supper, and Robyn was smiling at me in a way that suggested that she had another surprise for me; and when she raised her knee I saw what it was. Instead of her usual demure panties, she was wearing a pair of loose, lacy French knickers -- the sort of knickers she could never wear in daytime because they would not hold her penis in place. The material was partly see-through, and I could clearly see the outline of her cock, and one of her little hairless balls was just showing, pressed sideways by the lacy edges of the knickers. Just showing herself to me like this was clearly exciting her, as her cock was pressing out against the material before I began to touch her. My first instinct was to plunge my face down on the lace and suck her through it, but I held back, but decided to do it all with my mouth and tongue. So, I pulled her thighs wide apart and knelt down between her knees, very softly kissing and licking the inside of her thighs as I watched her cock stiffen in the lacy panties. Soon I was licking around the little testicles, and teased her this way for a bit before I tucked her cock round the frilly edge of the panties and took the very tip between my lips, sucking up on it to pull her foreskin up and over it, before pushing the soft skin back off the tip with my tongue. And soon, without any extra pressure, I felt that magic extra hardening, and she was spurting into my mouth as I sucked on her tip. When we slept together, we generally went off to sleep with me spooning her, her back to me and her soft round arse tucked into my groin, with my soggy, soft cock nestling between her bum cheeks, just touching the tight, moist hole it had recently been fucking. And often I woke up in this position, too, and reached around her to touch her big, puffy nipples before my hand found its way down to her groin and softly cupped her delicious little package of cock and balls. Of course this made my cock stiffen, and I quickly reached for some lubricant as my erection nudged her cheeks open, before reaching round again and beginning to stroke her shaft. Robyn would stir, and wriggle against my hard cock, and her own little shaft grew between my finger tips and the foreskin peeled off the tip. I think this sensation of her cock swelling and hardening between my fingers when she was half asleep was one of the most delicious things about our entire sexual relationship -- that sense that I could make her come to life like that. And then I would slip the tip of my cock into her anus, and feel my own foreskin pushed hard back by her tight sphincter, before I pushed past the barrier and began to move more freely inside her, while my hand toyed with her hard cock till we both came. When we were making love at other times of day, we usually fucked each other face to face. Robyn still liked sometimes to take the 'male' role and fuck my butt with her cock as she had done for the first time on that first evening we spent together. More often the active penetrator was on top, in our version of the missionary position, with the recipient lying with knees up to chest, to allow easy access to our bum-cunts. But sometimes we reversed it, and I particularly loved the occasions when she lay on her back, and I impaled myself on her cock and rode her till she came inside me, while she masturbated my hard shaft and made me spurt out across her belly. One weekend morning we had gone back to bed with breakfast and newspapers, and I turned over with my back to her and began to doze. I don't know how long I slept, but I was brought back to wakefulness by the feeling of a very hard, urgent little cock slipping between my cheeks, and, still half asleep, I pressed back against her and felt her slip inside me as her hands felt round me, first for my hard, sensitive little nipples and then for my now-erect shaft, which quickly exploded in her hand as she slid her cock in and out past my sphincter and nudged my prostate. And often we explored each other in a sixty-nine position. This might be a prelude to fucking, but at other times we just went on playing with each other, fascinated by the look of each other's genitals and the feel of the soft skin as we pulled it up and down each other's shaft, and by the way our foreskins rolled on and off our tips. There was something specially intimate about this time we spent with our heads tucked into each other's crotch, looking and toying and chatting, before the rhythm changed and we began to move towards cumming, usually in each other's mouths. We ended these sessions with deep French kissing that mingled our sperm. That came to have a special significance for us, as we realised how the mingling of our sperm in our mouths expressed the completeness of our physical union. The bathroom was one of our play-places too. Robyn had discovered my fascination with peeing on our first evening together and she liked to let me watch her pee. Usually she peed sitting down with her knees together, but when I was watching she would open her knees when the flow was established, and I would kneel down and watch the jet, licking the remnants off her tip when she had finished. Sometimes, too, especially when she needed to pee while we were making love, she would pee standing up, 'like a boy,' as she said, and I would take the final spurts in my mouth. One time, we were showering together when she said she needed to pee, and I said, 'Go ahead, here,' and knelt down in front of her, feeling the jet across my chest and running down my belly onto my cock, and then leaned forward, only a couple of inches from her streaming tip, to take it full in my mouth. I couldn't swallow it all, and it flowed down my chin, but I drank what I could, delighted by the intense salty flavour and by the fact that I was taking another liquid from deep inside her deep inside me. This became a regular pattern when we needed to pee while we were making love. She didn't want to drink my pee, but loved it when I peed on her cock -- the hot jet quickly made it stand up to attention, and sometimes I sucked her off then and there, taking the remnants of my own pee in my mouth before it was joined by the spurts of her cum. When we went out together in the daytime, she dressed simply and demurely as she had before, generally in jeans and a teeshirt or over-shirt, and always with a bra hiding her little pointed breasts. But she liked to dance, and, now that she had a companion who could keep her away from potentially awkward encounters, we often went to nightclubs, where she felt able to express herself far more freely as we danced, and for these evenings she generally wore a loose skirt, often without a bra. We most enjoyed the slow numbers where we could move face to face, me hardening in my pants against her, and feeling a reciprocal hardening in her tight panties, as her constrained little cock responded to mine. On the way home after one of these evenings, I was so excited after feeling her rubbing against me that she went down on me and sucked me to a climax in the club car park before we went home; I wanted to do the same to her, but she stopped me in case we got caught and her secret was unmasked. As soon as we were inside our front door, though, I gently pushed her to the floor and lifted her skirt, and tucked her little cock round the edge of her panties and sucked her to a climax. These evenings clubbing became a regular habit, but one night she had another surprise in store for me. As we went in to the slow number, I felt her rubbing against me through her skirt, and realised that her cock was hardening without any constraint; she wasn't wearing any panties, and her little shaft, now rigid and upright, was bare beneath the fabric of her skirt. She knew that the lights were low and nobody would notice the odd contour of her skirt as we went to sit down after the dance, and she knew, too, how this would turn me on -- not only the feel of her, but also the knowledge that she was naked beneath her skirt. As we sat in a dark corner, she allowed me to slip my hand under her skirt and to stroke her shaft for a moment, but not to go any further at that point. I touched her again in the car park, but it was not until we got home that she would let me do more, and then she insisted that the feeling of power and exposure this had given her made her need to fuck me first -- she made me bend forward across the back of our sofa and took me urgently from behind, thrusting into my butt for only a few strokes before I felt the spurts of her cum jetting up inside me. Then she said, 'take me like that, too,' and my climax took no longer that hers, as I thrust into her, with her skirt thrown up off her bare butt, and her little hairless balls dangling below. We also liked to go out into the local park at weekends with a picnic, and to sit on a big rug spread on the ground. Again, Robyn would wear one of her loose skirts, and would give me glimpses of her white panties as we sat there eating. We would then make out, getting an extra thrill from the fact that nobody who might see us would realise that she had a cock tucked in her panties. I would occasionally brush my hand across her groin as we kissed, heightening our excitement as I felt how hard she was and how tightly pressed her cock was against the cotton that held her in. When we got home, of course, we would quickly ease our tensions, often fucking almost fully dressed, with only her panties off and my pants unzipped, pretending that we were still out there in the park in full public view, and arousing ourselves still more by talking dirty, imagining who might be watching us from behind a nearby tree and wondering if he -- or she! -- could see that Robyn had a hard little pink cock. One day we were picnicking, and I wondered why Robyn was not giving me the usual teasing glimpses of her panties, but instead was keeping her skirt carefully drawn forward over her knees; at the same time I realised that this was not because she was cross with me, as she was chatting and laughing even more animatedly than usual. After we had finished eating, I was sitting facing her when, finally, she raised her knee for a brief moment, and -- could I believe it? -- it looked as if she was naked under her skirt. I looked at her questioningly, and she raised her knee again, and there it was -- her cock, completely bare and semi-erect, its tip pressing out of her foreskin and her little balls tight beneath her shaft. We went on talking haltingly for a moment, but our minds were on other things, and she was waiting to see how I would react to this blatant and tantalising teasing. I moved over to lie beside her as she sat, resting on my elbow with my head by her knees, and began gently, with my hand, to stroke her bare thigh. Both of her knees were raised, and I could slip my hand beneath them, with the position of my hand hidden by her skirt. If she could tease me like this, I thought, I could tease her a little, too; and she clearly had no idea what I had in mind or what I could do, in this very public space. So, I softly brushed the underside of her thighs with my fingertips, feeling her wriggle at my touch across her soft sensitive flesh, but not at first moving my hands any further. Her raised knees were together now, and I could imagine her cock tucked down below her thighs; gradually my finger tips began to brush further up, till they touched the crease where her thighs met her pert round butt-cheeks, but for a moment I avoided that little sideways movement that would touch her cock. But of course I wanted to touch her there just as much as she clearly wanted me to, and, first with my knuckles, I brushed across her balls, and then tickled them with my fingertips, but didn't immediately feel her shaft. She was so hard that it was standing up rigidly in front of her, and when I finally reached up to her tip, I found a huge bead of precum on her, which I licked off my finger before replacing my hand and touching her more, all across her balls and penis and down between the closed cheeks of her bum. Still teasing her a little, I kept my touch gentle and unfocused for a bit, but then took her shaft between my fingers and began to rub her more purposefully. She was as excited as I was, and soon I felt that wonderful, telltale extra stiffening that told me she was about to come, and she spurted into my hand. I put my palm across her tip as she came so that I could catch as much of her spunk as possible, and removed my hand when her spasms had ceased, and then -- openly in front of her and the world -- licked it clean, relishing the thick globs of sweet sticky white cum, before we kissed and I passed some of her fluids back into her mouth. We both knew it was my turn now, and I manoeuvred my thighs beneath her legs as she sat, still with her knees raised, and with her skirt covering us. When I was touching her, it was not so obvious what we were doing, but now it became pretty clear, though nothing could actually be seen. I unzipped my jeans and at once my hard cock popped out, and I nudged it down below her balls towards the tight little divide between her bum cheeks. At the angle that we were to each other, I could not quite penetrate her, but the feeling of her cheeks close around my cock, and the sensation of my very moist tip tickling the crinkled entry to her anus, brought me off very quickly, leaving my sperm spattered all across her tight little entry and up between her buttocks. And when I moved out from under her thighs, she slipped a hand under herself, brought it up, covered with my sperm, and licked it clean, before kissing me deeply and returning some of my fluids to me. That summer was full of carnal revelations. We relished all the ways we could touch and fuck each other, and knew that this was the beginning of a long, intense, fulfilling relationship. The autumn came, and the beginning of the college year, and our life together was happy and settled; but it didn't lose its excitement, and part of that was because of the return to the college, after her year abroad, of the cute girl I'd been fucking before I met Robyn. But that story is for another chapter. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 03 I tried to convince myself that it couldn't be true, that I was imagining things. After all, Sarah wouldn't cheat on me. But the more I looked at things, the more I realized that it had to be, there was no other explanation. We first met when I was 9 and moved to her neighbourhood where we quickly became friends, part of the neighbourhood gang. But our friendship was stronger than many others. Instinctively we seemed to know when the other was upset or hurting, and quickly became confidants. We knew that we could go to the other and discuss anything, what was happening in our lives, our fears, our hopes or our dreams. As we got older, and started to get interested in the other sex, we would discuss our romances. None of our relationships lasted, probably because we were measuring them up against each other. I fooled around more than Sarah. With a couple of my girlfriends I was able to grab their breasts under their clothes, and in one case, bare tit under her bra. She was the one who also let me stroke her pussy through her jeans, while she rubbed me through mine. Unfortunately, being a fifteen year old boy at the time, I didn't have much staying power and came in my jeans. What a mess! Sarah was about five foot five, with gorgeous curly red hair, green eyes and the cutest freckles. Whenever she would blush, the freckles would stand out even more. She was very cute, not glamour pretty, but definitely attractive. Sarah and I started going out almost out of necessity. I'd broken up with my girlfriend a month and a half before junior prom and Sarah broke up with her boyfriend two weeks before the big event. Rather than miss it, or worse, going stag, we decided to go together. As we danced together that night, especially during the slow ones, we both felt the sparks fly. Despite the fact that Sarah had been vigorously protecting her virginity I knew I could have taken it then. But we didn't fuck each other that night. We were afraid of our new found feelings, and didn't want to risk the friendship we had together. However, we quickly realized that the feelings were real, and the love we'd discovered, had been there for some time. It wasn't that long before we did make love. Like a lot of other love struck teenagers it was in the back seat of a car. The sight of her body for the first time was unbelievable. I almost came when I pulled off that lacy bra and saw her breasts, the nipples reaching up for me to devour. When I pulled her panties off and looked at that glistening slit beneath the red curls of her pubic mound, its a wonder I managed to get my cock inside that gorgeous pussy before I came. She was so tight I was afraid that it wouldn't fit. I still remember pushing the head of my cock in, and reaching the blockage of her hymen. Sarah sensed my hesitation and told me to go ahead and push hard. I was afraid of hurting her, but I followed her instructions, and with a big thrust I was buried deep inside her. Right about then I was feeling pretty good about myself, that is until I started to move. Much to my embarassment, one more good thrust did it and I was cumming. Talk about being mortified. Instead of laughing at me, Sarah told me how good it felt and set about exploring my penis, causing it to quickly swell up again to full size. Sarah went on about how beautiful it was, and how full she had felt. With that kind of encouragement it was just a few minutes before we were at it again. As I thrust into her, Sarah's hips rose to meet me. This time we built a rythym, her pussy squeezing tightly around my erection, until I felt her spasm beneath me, which caused me to quickly shoot my load up inside of her. That night was the first time that Sarah told me that she planned on being with me for the rest of our lives. Later that month Sarah gave me my first blowjob. Her parents were away for the day, giving us our first opportunity to be alone in a house. The fact that we weren't cramped up in the dark back seat of a car, was almost reward itself. The sight of her pretty face hovering over my cock, her mouth opening and taking me inside was something I'll never forget. I knew that this was a first for both of us, so when I felt that I had reached the boiling point, I told her that I was about to cum. She pulled her head off, but kept stroking me with her hand as I exploded. I shot off into the air, with the cum falling onto my chest and stomach. Never in all my jerking off had I blasted like that. Once I recovered I had an opportunity to really examine her pussy in detail. The puffy lips, that seemed to swell and open up as I caressed them, the clit sticking up, begging to be sucked! Sarah jumped and squealed as my tongue first made contact, and kept squirming as I ran it up and down, especially when I made contact with that clit. I'm no dummy, so I concentrated on the clit, sucking it into my mouth, then releasing it to push my tongue as far inside her hole as I could. When she came, she her thighs clenched my head, almost suffocating me. I thought if you got to go, what a way to go! Well, too make a long story short, our love continued through university, and into a marriage which I thought was as solid as they came. We were blessed with a healthy child, and both of us loved her as much as each other, if not more. Our sex life was great too. We would do anything to please each other, well, almost anything. Sarah was fixated that anal sex was dirty, and refused to have anything to do with it. She would almost freak out if I tried to touch her ass hole with my finger, or rub my cock against it. While this disappointed me, everything else was so great I got over it. In the early years of marriage, Sarah loved to shop for sexy underwear, bras, panties, teddies, you name it, she bought it. The day she bought it, I got a fashion show, she tried everything on, laughing at my reaction until we finally made mad, passionate love. However, after our daughter was born she shifted back to rather plain bras and panties, but even these looked great on her. It was just about a year ago when things started to change. The first thing I noticed was that for a few days Sarah seemed uneasy, nothing I could point a finger at though. Then, one night she literally attacked me in bed. I'm not complaining but I hadn't seen that level of lust in her in years. And when you consider that she is usually pretty hot, that says something. This amazing sex kept up for the next week. Then, one day a few weeks later, she surprised me. For the first time in years she stripped off her dress, and was dressed in the sexiest lingerie. It was the first time I had ever seen her in a thong, did she look great! I couldn't help myself, I laid her on the bed and spread her legs, lowering my mouth to the pussy I loved so much, covered only by those panties. I started to tease her with my tongue, feeling the crotch of those skimpy panties getting wetter by the second. Finally I pulled them to the side, and sucked her clit into my mouth, sliding a finger up into her pussy. I could feel her squirm with excitement, as I stroked her g spot, and teased that clit. Then she squeezed my head with her thighs, and almost dislocated my finger as she came. As I looked at her, the narrow strip pulled away, exposing her beautiful butt, and the tender bud between her cheeks, I was tempted to again try and access that spot, but didn't want to break the mood. Instead I rolled her over and kneeled behind her, sliding my pulsing cock into her soaking slit. The sensations were intense, I think for both of us, and I could feel her cum again just before I erupted inside her. As I did, I couldn't help but think how much I loved her, and how lucky I was to have Sarah as my wife. I wasn't surprised that the period of mad passion let up. But I was disappointed the frequency of our lovemaking dropped below what it had been. There were a lot of nights when she would tell me as soon as she walked in the door how tired she was, and needed to go to bed early. It seemed strange, as she seemed to have a sort of glow about her, but, oh well. At least for the most part, when we did make love it was still great A few weeks later I was doing some work in the spare bedroom while she was shopping. I was surprised to discover buried in the closet, several items of sexy lingerie, all apparently purchased at Victoria's Secret. A couple of items even appeared to be worn. About a week later, she suddenly peeled off her dress, and there was a sheer black bra and panty set that I had noticed in the closet. Imagine my shock when she said she had purchased them today to surprise me. Then one Thursday, I phoned and suggested meeting for lunch. Laughing nervously Sarah told me that she'd love to, however she was getting her hair done at noon hour, and it would take too long to rebook the appointment, . That evening, I noticed her hair was actually quite mussed up, almost like she'd been rolling around on it, and quite obviously not recently done. That weekend, she 'surprised' me with another of the Victoria's Secret outfits that I had noticed some weeks earlier, leading again to another night of good sex, an occurrence that repeated itself periodically over the next months. Clearly I was starting to get suspicious, but had no proof. The only person I could think of was that glassblower she had talked about one day, the one with the sexy French accent and voice, a Jacques somebody. So out of the blue I asked her if she had ever seen him again. I'm not sure if I was comforted by her quick 'no', and the laughing comment she made that I better be careful, or she'd fantasize about him while we were in bed. A few weeks later, again on a Thursday, I called to suggest lunch, only to told be told she'd made plans to meet with Susan for lunch. Instead I went to lunch with one of my golf buddies, and saw Susan sitting there having lunch with her husband. On another occasion, while we were having breakfast, I again suggested we meet for lunch, only to be told she was meeting Mary and Nancy. The next day while getting some groceries, I ran into Mary. She asked me how Sarah was, saying it had been so long since they had talked or seen each other. At the same time, the sex life was getting to be almost non existent. On some of the now rare occasions, it almost seemed like it was a chore to Sarah. Yet in other ways, she was still my loving, attentive wife. Quite clearly I couldn't help but face the fact that she was having an affair. I didn't know whether I should confront her, but if I did and she denied it, where was I? Thus I decided to contact a private investigator, and asked him to check into my wife's activities. As I did so, I could here my voice break. I couldn't believe that my beloved Sarah could cheat on me, but the mounting facts suggested something had been going on for months. I was extremely saddened, feeling that I had lost the love of my life, or should I say, she had lost me. Not long after that, I walked in as Sarah was undressing for bed. She quickly turned away from me and grabbed her nightgown, pulling it over her head in one motion. I couldn't believe what I thought I had seen, a completely shaved pubic mound! The nightgown she put on was semi sheer, and as she walked to the bed and climbed under the sheets, I studied her groin closely, and was convinced that my brief glimpse had been correct. Part of me was excited, after all I had urged her to do this on several occasions, but she had refused. Part of me was resigned to reality, for obviously her lover had convinced her to do so. At the same time I was wondering how she was going to explain this one to me. Sure enough, the next evening I walked into our bathroom, to find Sarah there, naked with a razor in her hand, and remnants of shaving gel on her bare mound. "Oh Bill, you ruined my surprise" she told me, telling me how a girlfriend had convinced her to try it and see what the results were like with me. I had to admit, I was turned on, and the feel of my cheeks against her bare pussy as I licked her to orgasm soon after, was like nothing I had felt before. Yet it took everything I had not to confront her, but I knew that I needed more evidence if I was going to do what I believed I had to do. Time passed very slowly for me as I waited to hear from the investigator. I couldn't help but think of all the good times we had together and of our child, who would be devastated. I tried to figure out how this had happened, had I failed Sarah, had I not been man enough for her, or was she just tired of me. At night after Sarah fell asleep, I would lay there, and look at her, wondering why she was doing this. Finally, a few weeks later, the private investigator called and told me he had the evidence. I agreed to meet him on a Saturday afternoon after I dropped my daughter off at a friends house for a sleepover. I knew that Sarah wouldn't expect me home, for I usually golfed on Saturday afternoon at the Country Club. As I prepared to meet with him, I was shaking, hoping against all hope. I prayed I would find that there was nothing to be worried about. Maybe Sarah was just going through a mid life crisis, but expecting that my fears would be realized. And that is just what happened, he told me he was sorry, and gave me the report, along with the pictures. It appears that every Thursday noon hour, Sarah was meeting with a fellow, a young French glass blower by the name of Jacques Hamel. From some interviews he had conducted with neighbours, this had apparently been going on for months. Sarah though, it appears, wasn't the only one. There were at least three others that appeared to be coming for regular visits, apparently married as well. Somehow he also had managed to get pictures, a number of Sarah arriving in a dress sexier than she usually wore to work, being greeted with a hug and passionate kiss. He also had managed to get pictures of them in bed, and to my increasing disgust, I saw her giving him blow jobs, being eaten out, in a sixty-nine and making love in several positions. I had been doing a lot of thinking over the last couple of months, deciding what I would do when I knew for sure that Sarah was fucking around on me. With that I headed home to confront her with the truth, and to do what needed to be done. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 03 I had got together with my beautiful slender blonde classmate Robyn, and found to my delight that she had a little uncut fully-functioning cock; we spent the summer together exploring everything we could do with -- and to -- each other. ----------------------- When the new college semester began, Robyn was living with me in my apartment, and, to all appearances, we were just another student couple who had got together. Little did they know that, behind Robyn's modest exterior, when we were in private she loved to tease me and expose herself to me, enticing me to explore what she had inside her white panties, and urging me to run my tongue round her hard little cock, with the foreskin rolled back off her tip, till she hardened still more and spurted in my mouth. And they could have no idea that sometimes it was she who thrust her cock into me, rolling that foreskin back against my tight sphincter, while she masturbated my hard cock until it spent across my -- or her -- belly. For the new school year, the cute girl I'd been fucking the year before I met Robyn came back to the college after her year abroad. We had never had an exclusive relationship, and I had never known how she spent the many evenings we were apart; and, as far as I knew, she had not known that sometimes I got together with the guy from the swimming club who liked to sodomise me sharply and abruptly, while I jacked off beneath him. Robyn knew all about cute girl and the swimmer, as it was these stories that had made her feel she could trust me with the secret of her own hidden cock, especially when I had told her that, when I fucked cute girl, I had often dreamed of her having a little erect penis that I could stroke, while I slid my cock in and out of her girl-pussy. Cute girl got in touch, and, after telling Robyn, I arranged to meet her for lunch one day. I wondered how I'd feel, seeing her again after so much had happened in my sex life since I last saw her and last fucked her, and wondered how she would feel when I told her I was living with Robyn. But it was all very easy; she seemed genuinely pleased for me when I told her about Robyn, though of course not about Robyn's secret cock, and she told me that she had had a couple of intense relationships during her year away, but both had ended. Otherwise, we chatted about her time away, in France, and about how she felt about being back on campus. Friendly, enjoyable, no more. When I told Robyn about it, she smiled and asked me, point blank, "Jim, do you still fancy her?" I paused a moment, and answered, "I didn't really think about her in physical terms during our lunch. That might seem strange, but the mood was so relaxed and low-key that her sex didn't really occur to me." Besides, though I didn't say this, she had been dressed very demurely (in a sweater and jeans). But it was an interesting question. Robyn went on, "do you ever still fantasise about fucking her -- or about fucking a girl-cunt? I'd quite understand it if you do." "It's hard to say," I replied. "It certainly isn't what I think about when I masturbate. That is always you -- visualising what I can do with your cock, and imagining the feeling of fucking your tight little butt-cunt. But there is also something special about sliding my cock between the soft lips of a girl-cunt -- and about going down on a girl and rolling my tongue around her clitoris." She smiled, and said, "I'm glad you can say that, Jim. If you'd said the thought never occurred to you, I'd have thought you were lying." We left the subject there, but, later that evening, after we had done a gentle sixty-nine together, and then immediately kissed, as we so loved to do, to mingle our cum in our mouths, she suggested I should ask cute girl round to supper one evening at our apartment. Cute girl agreed, after I had assured her that Robyn knew all about our past relationship, and, the next weekend, she came over, dressed, as when I had lunched with her, very simply, and we talked over a couple of bottles of wine and the excellent pizza delivered from the pizzeria a few blocks away. Robyn herself was, as usual, simply dressed, with a loose skirt and a shirt over a white teeshirt, but I was interested to see that she had put a little make-up on, and seemed not to be wearing a bra. After we had eaten and were well into the second bottle of wine, cute girl was telling us about her time in France -- but this time she was not talking about the courses she had taken at the university there. She began to talk about her love-life. As she had told me before, she had had a couple of intense relationships while she had been away, but now we learned a whole lot more. The first had been with one of her professors -- a Frenchman in his fifties with silver-grey hair. She knew he was married, but they had spent a couple of months having sex whenever and wherever they could; I remembered how cute girl had liked to fuck in odd, unexpected places when we had been together. The professor had lost interest in her when that particular course had ended; she had been sad but not heart-broken. And then she had struck up a relationship with one of her classmates -- a girl. She was Swedish, named Birgitta, and it had been Birgitta's first sexual relationship with another girl; they had spent the spring and summer together, finishing their courses and then travelling round France together. But she had gone back to her university in Sweden. Cute girl hadn't heard from her since they parted, and so assumed that the relationship was over; but it had been very intense. "Oddly," she said, turning to Robyn, "she looked quite a lot like you." This was news to me. It hadn't occurred to me, while I was with cute girl, that she, too, might be bisexual -- I had been meeting the swimmer for quick carnal release as he buggered me, but had had no idea how she spent her time. Had the Swedish girl been her first, too? But it was Robyn who asked her the crucial question: "When did you realise you're bi?" "When I was at high-school. Yes, I liked the boys, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the girls in the pool and the changing rooms. I had groped with some of the boys, and enjoyed bringing them off, but the only serious relationship I had was with a close girlfriend. For a long time it was just a very intense friendship, but in the summer after we graduated it turned into a full-blown sexual affair, before we went off to college in different cities. The last I heard she is engaged to be married." My unspoken question was whether she had gone on having sex with girls while we had been fucking; I didn't need to ask, as she went on telling her story to Robyn. "I also had my first brief fling with a man in my first year at college -- and then, as you know, I got together with Jim in my second year. I do like the feeling of a man's cock inside me. But -- sorry, Jim -- I always felt that something was missing, that there was a set of gentle, sensual sensations that I never got with a man. In those first couple of years at college, I was a member of a gym, and there was a group of us who used to spend time together after we had exercised on Thursday evenings; and most of them were gay. We were very open with each other, and I had sex quite regularly with a couple of them, and on a few occasions we all got drunk together and spent the night having sex as a group, kissing and fingering and licking whoever and whatever body part came near us. After these sessions, I often wanted to feel a hard male cock thrusting into me, and, yes, Jim, that was your cock when we were together; but in a different way I also felt deeply satisfied after spending time with the girls' gentle tongues and their wet, excited pussies. And it was the girls that gave me the most intense, long, drawn-out orgasms." There was one more thing I needed to know: had she known while we were together that I too was bi, and about my encounters with the swimmer. Again, it was Robyn who asked the crucial question: "Jim is bi, too, as I guess you realised?" "Robyn, I'm so glad you know that. No, I didn't realise at first, but as I moved between these two very different sorts of sex I sometimes sensed that there was something missing for Jim, too, when we were together, and on a few occasions in a bar I caught him looking for longer than I expected at some man across the room -- usually handsome guys who looked as if they had been body-building. And then on one occasion, Jim, I saw you coming out of one of the college dorms with one of these guys, and something about the way in which you were relating to each other told me immediately that you had just had sex -- not that you were being intimate with each other, but the opposite; you were trying too hard to look casual, as if there was no intimacy between you. This didn't upset me, though I hoped you were using a condom ("yes, I was," I interjected), and it helped me understand things about my relationship with you, and also to accept that there was nothing too perverse about being actively bisexual." Of course, after these revelations about herself, cute girl wanted to know more about the relationship between Robyn and me. She went on: "I still don't know what or who I really want; I guess I'll be trying to work that out this year. But how are you two managing?" This wasn't the occasion for revelations about Robyn's secret, and she simply said with an enigmatic smile, "We are doing very well indeed with what we have got; and thanks very much for asking," and made it clear she wasn't going to go into any further details. After this, the evening quietly wound down, and Robyn left, after a warm embrace with each of us. But something about the evening had left both of us feeling particularly horny, and Robyn told me she had had to resist cute girl's hug in case she felt the erection that was building inside her panties. But once she had left, there was nothing stopping us, we lay down on the carpet in the lobby, Robyn on her back, and I flipped her skirt up and began to suck her cock through her white cotton panties; I loved to see how far I could take her without touching her flesh. Sometimes we went all the way, until she spurted out into the cotton and left a delicious spreading stain, but, this time, as I felt her climax building, I pulled the panties aside and took her in my mouth, sucking her and licking round her foreskin as she began to spurt. And then, quickly pulling her panties off, I pushed her knees up to her chest and, lubricating myself with my saliva and her sperm, fresh from my mouth, I slid into her tight butt-cunt, and came all too quickly as she flexed her muscles around me. And no, I told her straight afterwards, I was not thinking of cute girl as I came. To my slight surprise, she quickly replied, "Nor was I." Over the next few days, I felt a slight difference in the way in which Robyn was reacting to me. There was no barrier -- in fact, if anything our sex was more intense than ever, and she was in a very good mood. But sometimes I caught a small smile on her face, as if she was playing with an interesting idea that she was not yet ready to put into words. One evening, after we had eaten and had several glasses of wine, she turned to me and said: "I've been thinking, and I've realised something very strange. Here I am, living with you as a woman, but I've never seen a woman's pussy." This had never occurred to me, either, but of course it made sense. I looked at her with a smile, and asked her what she could think of doing about it. But I guess I already knew: cute girl offered a possible solution. She had told us that she was bisexual, and her recent girlfriend had even looked like Robyn; but of course she had no idea what Robyn kept between her legs, and we had no idea how she might react if she found out. "Yes, I have been thinking about it; can we invite cute girl over again one evening?" (Robyn had taken up the nickname I had always used when talking about cute girl). "But before we do that, I need to tell you some things and ask you some questions. First, it's fine by me if you fuck cute girl or do anything else with her. In fact I'd love to see you fuck her, and to watch your big hard cock sliding in and out of her cunt lips, and to lick you as you do. But how would you feel about me touching her? I have no idea what I might want to do with her -- or to her -- if we get her into bed, but I'd like to know if there are any limits as far as you are concerned. Would you mind me kissing her lips? and her breasts? and her pussy? and how would you feel if I found I actually wanted to fuck her?" My answer came out almost before she had finished. 'Anything, absolutely anything, would be fine by me. And if you wanted to, I'd love to see your little cock slipping in and out of her pussy, and to lick your cum off her lips." "Wonderful. Thank you! I hoped you'd say that, and was pretty sure you would. Can you leave it to me to make things happen when she comes over? I'm beginning to get some ideas; and I'll tell you anything you need to know before we begin." That evening, our sex was quite extraordinary. We both came almost as soon as we touched each other, but that was only the prelude to a long evening of sucking and fucking that left us both dazed and amazed. Cute girl duly accepted Robyn's invitation that she should come over for supper the next Saturday. Robyn was more dressed up than the previous time, with one of the prettiest of her loose skirts that came just below the knee, and a stylish shirt, also partly unbuttoned and showing glimpses of her big soft puffy nipples on her tiny breasts; and, as I knew from watching her dress, she was wearing one of her usual pairs of modest white panties, with her cock demurely tucked down between her legs. I asked her quickly before cute girl arrived whether she had any special instructions for me. "No, but watch me; I'm going to play it by ear, and may get some good ideas when I see how things are going." I still had very little idea what she had in mind, but felt my cock beginning to stir at the thought of watching any sort of sex between her and cute girl -- and also, I must admit, at the possibility of touching cute girl myself and perhaps feeling her big soft moist cunt lips caress my cock-head. When cute girl arrived, to my surprise she was dressed quite differently from the previous time; now she was wearing a quite short tight skirt that showed off her firm and slightly fleshy thighs, and a very pretty, lacy blouse that seemed to have one more button undone than necessary. And, as she moved past me, I realised she wasn't wearing a bra, and caught a glimpse of her breast nestling against the blouse, not large but pointed and with rich pink areolae. Supper and wine and conversation, and then Robyn suggested we should watch a video of the recent series of 'Sex and the City'; so we sat together on the long sofa, me on cute girl's left and Robyn on her right. After a few minutes, I felt some movement by my right shoulder, and realised that Robyn had put her arm along the sofa back behind cute girl, and was brushing her fingers across her shoulder. Cute girl then nestled a bit closer towards Robyn, and gently rested her head on her shoulder, while Robyn continued to run her finger tips across her shoulder and then across the exposed skin of her neck. Then cute girl quickly glanced round at me, realising that I had noticed what was going on, and I gave her the wide, open smile that told her that this was all just fine by me. Cute girl then turned round to Robyn, flung her left arm across and round her, and kissed her deeply on the lips. I realised that this was the first time that Robyn had ever kissed a girl like this, but I needn't have worried. I saw her sink into the kiss, loosening her lips to welcome cute girl's approach, and then was thrilled to see her right hand reaching across and towards cute girl's breast, and slip into her half-unbuttoned shirt: another 'first' for Robyn, her first girl's breast; I so hoped there would be more 'firsts' that evening. All this time I kept my hands to myself; no sign from Robyn, and it was her turn now, though I hoped mine would come later. Feeling Robyn's fingers brushing her nipple, cute girl reached out to her, and quickly undid a couple of buttons on her blouse so that she could reach her little breasts. When she saw them, with the big soft nipples on the slightest mounds of flesh, she gasped, "oh! how beautiful!", before reaching down with her lips and nuzzling across her nipples before settling gently to suck and tease one of them with her lips. As I well knew, this turned Robyn on so much, and I watched her wriggle and heard her sigh as cute girl's lips and tongue and -- yes! a gasp -- maybe also teeth brushed and toyed across her. Where was she going to go next? I was sure her little cock was hard by now, pinched tight in the panties between her legs, and its tip weeping into the white cotton. Then I saw cute girl's hand reaching down towards Robyn's skirt, and her fingers brushing up under it, above her knee, up her thigh. Was this the moment of truth? But Robyn was still in control of the situation. "Later!" she said, sitting up on the sofa; "It's your turn now; let's all go to the bedroom." And she turned off the unwatched video, and stood up. Aha! I was included, and now cute girl knew that whatever happened would involve all three of us. We went through to the bedroom, Robyn and cute girl first, me following; and Robyn gestured to her to lie down on the bed, she went round to the far side and sat down, and I sat on the near side. Robyn was sitting a bit further down the bed than I was, and I looked at her, to see her give a quick nod, and I reached down to kiss cute girl -- for the first time since her return. Her mouth opened to me as it had to Robyn's and we toyed with each other's lips and tongues, eagerly, hungrily, while I reached down and undid all the buttons of her blouse, allowing her soft breasts to lie free, and stroking them gently as I went on kissing her. One of her hands, meanwhile, reached down and began to stroke my hard cock through my cotton pants. But half of my attention was on Robyn and what she was planning to do. She began to stroke cute girl's fleshy thighs, and then reached to undo the zip of her little skirt, and cute girl raised herself up so that Robyn could slip the skirt off her easily. And then she was lying there, with only a tiny lacy white g-string covering her sex; the ample blonde pubic hair on her plump outer lips was spilling out round the lace, and only that narrow band still hid what Robyn had never seen. But Robyn was in no hurry, and stroked up and down her thighs while I teased her nipples with my fingers and then with my lips. Robyn's fingers were brushing further and further up, touching the edges of her hair and the frilly border of the lace, while cute girl was pushing herself down, trying to rub her sex against Robyn's knuckles as her hands moved across the full flesh of the tops of her legs and down between her thighs. And then Robyn simply reached round and pulled down the g-string from the sides, and there, exposed between cute girl's part-open things, was the first girl-sex she had ever seen: another 'first' and the one that had started it all! Cute girl's inner lips were full and plump and crinkled, too, and stood out from her pubic hair, and I could imagine that, between them, Robyn would already be able to see the juices of her excitement. For a long minute, I could sense that she was just gazing at her cunt, before she began again to stroke her, now brushing up, first across, then between those fleshy inner lips, feeling for what she knew was there, but had never seen or touched. And she quickly found it, as I could tell when cute girl jumped and writhed as Robyn's fingers first touched her clitoris. Robyn well knew, too, that she had hit the spot, and began tentatively to brush her fingers across the little knob: another 'first'. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 03 But that wasn't where she was going to stop, as I soon realised. As I went on sucking and softly nibbling her nipples, Robyn reached down and opened her thighs, and then lent forward and, very slowly, planted her lips on cute girl's full cunt-lips, standing out amid her thick curly hair, and reached between them with her tongue-tip, seeking out the point that her fingers had found before. For a moment, her tongue was licking up and down, exploring all the recesses of cute girl's flesh, before she settled on her clit and began to move rhythmically across it. And, as I knew from my own experience, it wasn't difficult to make her come that way. Soon she was bucking and gasping as she exploded into her climax beneath us, with Robyn sucking on her clitoris and me grazing my teeth across her nipple. Cute girl was lying back on the bed with her eyes closed, and I looked at Robyn, kneeling there, with a satisfied smile on her face and still wearing her white panties, in which I could see the telltale contour of her hard cock and the wet bead of her precum that had spilled out of her tip. She mouthed at me, "you fuck her, now." I quickly slipped out of my pants and briefs, and moved round between cute girl's legs, and she reached out to me, pulling my hard cock towards her and saying, "Please, Jim, fuck me now. That was amazing, but I want that cock inside me." Her lips were soaked by her juices and Robyn's saliva, and my full length slipped straight into her. The feeling of my cock being held by those soft yet firm moist cunt-walls was so different from the raw excitement of having it grasped by Robyn's tight sphincter. But that was not all. As I began to move in and out of her, I realised that Robyn was still behind me, and felt her tongue tickling my balls and running round the base of my shaft as it sunk deep between cute girl's fat lips. This was going to make me come too soon and I slowed down, trying to defuse the urgency I felt, but kept on moving steadily in and out; Robyn must have sensed this too, and moved her attentions a little further down, and began to lap her wet tongue across cute girl's anus -- something else that I knew she loved. And soon she was bucking again in orgasm, and the combination of her spasms and the touch of Robyn's tongue, once again tickling and teasing my balls, brought me off in deep spurts inside her, before the final spasms of her climax had finished. I slipped out of her and lay down beside her. She leant over to give me a lazy kiss and purred, "thank you", before she turned away from me and lay quietly. I looked at Robyn, and she whispered, "I need to pee; do you?" Realising that she wanted to tell me what she had planned, I followed her to the bathroom. We did both pee, but without our usual pee-play: we had much more important things on our mind. "I want to try to fuck her," Robyn said, "Follow me, and come and lie behind me." She finally took off her panties, and I followed her tight round swinging arse as she walked back to the bedroom. Cute girl was still lying quietly, with her back turned to us, seemingly dozing after her two intense orgasms, and Robyn lay down behind her, where I had been before. Cute girl was curled up, her knees drawn up in front of her, and Robyn snuggled up against her, and I moved behind Robyn, reaching round and feeling her little cock, which was already hard and hardened more as I rubbed my fingers up and down her shaft. And now I realised what she planned. She was close behind cute girl, whose soft butt-cheeks were pressed into Robyn's belly; only a slight move, and Robyn's cock was placed right by her cunt. My hand was still on her shaft, and I held it and brushed her tip very lightly up between cute girl's podgy lips, and then lodged it at the entrance of her cunt, sopping wet with her juices and my cum. Just one push, and Robyn's cock was inside her -- another 'first' and perhaps the most unexpected one of all! When she felt the little cock inside her, cute girl suddenly stirred, and said, "Jim, what are you doing? That feels amazing!" This was the moment of truth for us. Cute girl then slipped her hand down in front of her, feeling for what had penetrated her, and found Robyn's little hairless shaft, so different from my cock that had so recently pulsed deep inside her. A brief pause, and then, "My God! Robyn....?" But she didn't pull away. She thrust back onto Robyn, and pressed her hand hard against her own clitoris, before, very suddenly, exploding in another intense spasm, and then lying still, with Robyn's little cock still plunged in between her cunt-lips. And Robyn was nearly there too; she made a few tentative moves before striking up a rhythm, and in a few moments I felt her muscles tense as she pulsed into cute girl's cunt, where I had cum only a few minutes before. Just a moment of quiet, and cute girl turned round with a look of amazement, and said, "Please, Robyn, show me -- I must see you, now!" And Robyn lay naked on her back, drained by her recent climax, while cute girl ran her hands down her body and gently took her moist little cock between her fingers, moved it around a little, ran her fingers round beneath her little hairless balls, and then leaned forward and planted a very gentle kiss on her sodden tip. "You're beautiful," she whispered. We were all three too drained, physically and emotionally, to talk any more right then, and lay there together, arms intertwined, for a few minutes. But cute girl's curiosity soon returned, and she moved down again to look at Robyn's cock. For a moment Robyn shyly tried to cover herself with her hand, but cute girl firmly removed it, and lay there for a bit, just looking, before she reached down again with her mouth and took Robyn's soft tip, now shielded by her foreskin, between her lips. I watched as she gently licked round her and then moved her mouth up and down, which I knew would pull that soft foreskin down off her tip; then her movements became more vigorous, and I could see that Robyn's little shaft was swelling and stiffening. As she did this, I moved round, and joined in this celebration of Robyn's beautiful sex, stroking her balls as cute girl sucked on her shaft. And amazingly I suddenly felt that telltale extra stiffening, and Robyn was pulsing into a girl's mouth -- another first! We all slept for a little, but of course cute girl wanted to talk and ask us about our relationship and how we had got together, and all the while she was looking with fascination at the little cock, now soft again, tucked into the groin of that lovely woman named Robyn who had just fucked her. ----------------- Robyn and I have stayed together, very happily. That evening with cute girl told her, once and for all, that she would never have the sex-change operation. Although she loved the look of cute girl's cunt-lips and the feeling of them against her own lips, she also loved the feeling of her cock penetrating those lips; and she and I together love the orgasms we share as we suck and fuck each other. We live together, and we're constantly thrilled by the sex we have together. Cute girl moved to another city, but she comes to visit us regularly; and when she does, the three of us continue to explore all the ways in which our bodies can come -- and cum -- together. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 04 Life continued to be wonderful. Every Thursday I met with Jacques at lunch time, and had had great sex. After the first couple of times in the back of his shop, the only times I saw him was during our Thursday trysts. The rest of the time , I was Bill's loving wife. By now, the level of guilt I felt had decreased substantially, after all, we still loved each other and there was no way he would ever find out. Besides, when this fling with Jacques ended, as I knew it would, I knew I would be faithful to Bill for the rest of my life. Then one Saturday, Bill took our daughter to her soccer game, planning to drop her off after the game for a sleep over at her friends, and then meet his buddies at the Country Club and play 18 holes. I did some chores and then I went to the mall to do some shopping. To my surprise, when I was shopping, whom did I see, but my sexy French glass blower. This was the first time I'd ever seen him other than his shop or his apartment. We chatted for a bit, and then, I don't know why, perhaps the daringness of it all, I invited him to my home. Maybe I wanted to show it off, to let him see the things I had talked about. Since Bill was golfing, I knew he wouldn't be home for hours. We had some coffee, and then I showed him proudly around my house. Of course the room he was most interested in was our bedroom. As we stood by the bed I shared with Bill, Jacques put his arms around me and started to whisper into my ear, telling me how he wanted me right here and now. I tried not to respond, but his tongue flicking at my ear lobe caused the tingling to start deep inside me. I told him, no, we couldn't, but as he started to nuzzle my neck, his hands caressing my breasts, my resolve weakened, and soon our clothes were in a pile on the floor, and we were rolling around on my bed. As he prepared to mount me, I told him to stop, it was my house and I wanted to be in charge. I rolled him onto his back and started to run my fingers lightly up and down his erection, watching it twitch with anticipation. Teasingly I bent over, and did the same thing with my tongue, then sliding my mouth over the head. I never exerted any real pressure or suction, my intent being to enjoy myself, and hopefully to drive him crazy. A thrill ran through me as I watched him squirm, for once he was the one begging me to fuck him. Finally I decided to take pity on him, and me too, for I was dripping, and climbed on top of him, lining my pussy up over that beautiful cock, and then, pushing down hard with one quick motion, feeling that cock fill my insides. I alternated between slow sensuous movements, to riding him hard. Finally I gave into my feelings, and just as I could feel him shoot deep inside me, I came. As part of his revenge, he rolled me over and started playing with my pussy, running his tongue over my clit, up and down the lips of my vagina, and then over my anus. All the while he was using his fingers as well, working them over my clit, then up inside my boiling cunt, and when his tongue went back to my clit, thrusting first one, then two up my ass. I still wasn't nuts about him playing with my asshole, and had never let him fuck me there after that first time, but today, the intensity over rode my logic, and soon I was on all fours, feeling his cock push past my anal ring, gradually filling me in a way I'd never thought possible. As I pushed back against that thrusting cock, building to an orgasm I knew would soon come, my world ended! "Sarah." "It couldn't be" was the thought that went through my mind as I tried to turn and look towards the sound. As I did the only thing you could hear was the soft 'plop' as Jacques cock pulled out of my ass. I almost died as I looked to the doorway and there stood Bill. The look on his face, the hurt, the defeat, the sorrow will haunt me forever. ---------------- ------------------------- My thoughts were surprisingly clear as I drove away from the meeting with the investigator. In fact, part of me was almost relieved, while I was truly upset that there was no doubt, at least no longer would I be torn apart by wondering, was I just paranoid, or was Sarah really cheating on me. While his verbal report was enough, the pictures of her rolling around in bed with him, the look on her face, told me that I had to follow through with what I had decided. I knew it was now or never, and went home to confront Sarah. I almost changed my mind when I saw a strange car in the drive way, deciding I would wait. But when I entered the house there was nobody there. I headed upstairs, thinking I'd have a shower. As I approached our bedroom I could hear voices . With my stomach sinking even further, I quietly approached our open bedroom door. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, what Sarah was saying, "Oh, Jacques, that is so good, fuck my ass, it feels so good, fuck me hard!" As I looked in, I almost died, for there was this young man, talking to her in a French accent, telling her how tight she was, and how good it was, as he thrust into her waiting ass. I was almost paralysed with disgust and horror, and for a minute I couldn't move. As I stood there, I couldn't help think that she'd never let me do this, not even let me lick or finger her there, but he could fuck it. Finally I had to say something, but all I could say was "Sarah!" I could see her squirm as she twisted around, his cock being pulled out. The look on her face as she saw me, was a mixture of shock and horror. I don't know what possessed me as I spoke to the man, a man whose face and body I had seen in a number of pictures, "You must be Jacques Hamel, I am sure you will excuse me if I don't offer you a drink. In fact don't think I'm being rude, but get the hell out of here before I do something I know I won't regret" Part of me wanted to kill him, right then and there, but at the same time, I couldn't help but think of my daughter, so discretion took the better part of valour, and I just watched him scramble into his clothes, and race out of the house. As I watched him go, I thought that someday, I would get even. I then turned to Sarah, thinking that nothing, even the pictures and almost certain knowledge of her affair had prepared me for the shock I had just received. "And to think honey that you always thought that ass play was dirty! I guess you were right, only fucking sluts and whores would do that, wouldn't they?" "Please Bill, its not what you think" "Oh come on Sarah, just what the hell is it, maybe he was just working out a kink in your back, or using his cock as a rectal thermometer! You've played me for a fool for quite a while, but I wasn't born yesterday!" "Bill, its you I love, this was just sex, what we share is true love, love has never entered into this, for the only one I have ever loved is you, believe me. This was the first time I've ever done this, you are the only man I've been with until today" Even if somehow my suspicions, as confirmed by the mounting evidence and report and pictures I had just received hadn't convinced me what I had to do, the sight of my beloved wife, joyously letting her young lover fuck her ass, was more than enough. I easily let her protestations of her love for me slide off, for the lack of love was more than obvious in her betrayal, her deceit, her lies, and the actions she had undertaken. I dropped the pictures on the bed, and looked at her face as she saw the evidence of her betrayal, and most recent lie. I knew she was panicking, but I told her what I had to tell her, that this was it, I wanted a divorce. I told her I would be fair, in fact a lot fairer than I had to be out of respect for the years that I had loved her, but that this was the end. If she didn't contest it, I would do it nicely, but if not, I would use the pictures I had and expose her cheating to the court. Even though she had hurt me so, I thought of her family, our daughter, and felt that I had to do it without malice, unless she pushed me. At the same time, I thought it's to bad she didn't do the same thing. I debated telling her about his other relationships, but thought I'd save that til another day. The sound of her sobbing bothered me a bit as I walked out, but any guilt I felt was lessened by the hurt that had been building up until today. Even now, I couldn't feel rage, though part of me wanted to hurt her, physically and emotionally. But the love I had for her all these years, a love that was now shattered, held me back. Instead, I just felt an incredible feeling of loss and sadness, as I walked out heading to a hotel to spend the night. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 05 I almost died as I saw Bill standing there. The guilt poured over me, as the justifications that has allowed me to push it away melted before my eyes as I saw the look on his face, the shock, the horror, the sadness. My first thought was that he was going to kill us, and as he told Jacques to get out I realized he wanted to hurt him, but was holding back. At the same time, I realized he would never hit me, or physically hurt me, even though he may have been justified to do so, having caught me fucking somebody in our bed. Even though I knew he was badly hurt, his words stung deeply as he said, "And to think honey, that you always thought that ass play was dirty! I guess you were right, only fucking sluts and whores would do that, wouldn't they?" His voice was like I'd never heard it, hard but yet defeated. He looked like he had been run over by a train. Panicking I tried to tell him I loved him, and only him, that Jacques meant nothing to me. Out of desperation I told him that I'd never been with somebody until today. As this was going on Jacques quickly dressed and headed past Bill out the door, not even looking back at me. My hopes that somehow this could quickly be salvaged were dashed as he threw some pictures on the bed. To my horror I saw pictures of Jacques and I involved in various acts of sex, pictures of me sucking his cock, fucking him and him eating me out. "I'm not sure exactly when this started, but I know it has been going on for some time. There have been too many clues, I'm sure you thought you had fooled me, that you had gotten away with it, but I'm not that stupid. I'm not a detective, but I did have you followed, and today I met with my man, who gave me these pictures. I was coming home to confront you when somehow you went and made it even worse for me, letting me find you being fucked in our bed!" "Please Bill, I love you. Let me make it up to you, I will never see him again! It's you I love, I've never stopped loving you." "I'm sorry Sarah, maybe I could've forgiven one indiscretion, but you fucked him over and over and over again! You say you love me, after the way you have gone out of your way to deceive me, I must question your professed love for me. How many others have there been? I have loved you with all my heart, I have tried to make you happy and have treated you the best way that I could. You have been the only woman i've loved, or made love to, but after what's gone on, that love has been shattered, and there is no way I can put it back together." "Bill, Bill, listen to me, I know that love is still there and that we can rebuild it together. What about our daughter? Let's make this work again, I don't know why I did this, but I do know that you're the only one that I've loved, could love, and still love!" "You should have thought of our daughter some time ago Sarah. And if you loved me as you say you do, this wouldn't have gone on, or stopped right away! It's too late Sarah, I will divorce you, though I'm prepared to give you a fair settlement, along with reasonable rights of visitation with our child, for generally you have been a good mother. I'll leave you here for now, but I prefer that you leave tomorrow before our she comes home!" With that he turned and walked out, leaving me crying in our bed, a bed I knew we would never share again. ------------------------------------------- Sarah was still there when I went back the next day. I don't know if I'd ever seen her look that bad. Clearly she had spent much of her time crying. Before I could say anything she started, "Bill, I know how wrong I have been, please forgive me and give me another chance! You know it has always been you. I don't know what I was thinking, what I was doing, if you give me another chance, I will never do this again." "Sarah, Sarah, what do you expect? If it had been me, if you had these pictures, if you saw me fucking my lover, you would have killed me, castrated me and fed my penis to the dogs. You always used to talk about how important it was to be faithful, and I always was faithful to you. I never would have dreamed of cheating, and I've had chances. But unlike you, I thought of how important my love was, and my fidelity, and how it would hurt you, but obviously these things didn't matter to you. There's no way I could ever trust you again. I would always be wondering when the next man would smile at you just the right way, when you'd drop your panties for him. The way you've done it, the way you lied to me shows me that you only loved yourself. You probably did love me, but not enough to think of what I felt, of what I thought. Part of me will always love you, but too much has gone on to love you as I did before. Especially since I doubt your love for me. It sure hasn't existed over the last year." "Maybe we can still be friends, after all we share a child. Tell me, did you ever consider her and what this might mean to her? Or did you ever think of anything but your own feelings. I'm sorry Sarah, I don't think that I can ever forgive you for what you have done. I don't think you'll ever know how much you hurt me, of the knife you kept driving deeper and deeper into me, until yesterday when you cut the heart right out of me." "But Bill, can't you see that it was only sex with Jacques, for you it was and always has been love." "Sarah, one of the things that hurts me the most is that you can't see how ridiculous that statement is. You say it was 'love' with me, and only 'sex' with Jacques. Yet when you look at the last year, why is it that 'sex' always won over 'love'? I know that there were at least three times when you were too busy to have lunch with 'love', because you were spending time with 'sex', and those are only the times I can prove you lied to me. I know there were many other times you turned me down, though hopefully some of those were genuine." "What do you mean?" "Remember the day you said you were getting your hair done, when you came home it clearly hadn't been done in a while, and in fact you got it done two days later . Then there was the day you were having lunch with Susan, only she and Mike were having lunch together at the same place I ate at. The only way you could have been having lunch with them is if you were under the table taking care of him! And when you were having lunch with Mary and Nancy, and the next day Mary saw me and asked how you were, as she hadn't seen or talked to you for such a long time." "And the Victoria's Secret outfits, yes I loved them, but how could you tell me you had just bought them when I found them hidden away well in advance, I'm sure 'sex' saw them before 'love'. The shaving of your pubic hair, I told you I saw it before I ruined your surprise, did you do it for 'love', or for 'sex'? And what about anal sex, you always turned 'love' down, but it was available for 'sex', and from what I heard, that wasn't the first time." Sarah kept sobbing as I went on, "There is no doubt that whenever there was a choice, that you always chose 'sex', so don't tell me how important 'love' was, for the truth doesn't lie." She kept trying to convince me otherwise, but when I refused to agree to give her a second chance she became angry, "If that's the way you want it, I guess that's the way it will be Bill. But remember all the good times, how could you throw them all away!" "I didn't Sarah, you did." -------------------------------------- After Bill walked out that Saturday afternoon, I sat in our bed, dripping Jacques' cum onto the sheets. While I expected Bill would be upset if he discovered my affair, I'd convince myself he wouldn't be all that upset, for he would see how happy it had made me, and how it hadn't affected the way I felt about him, or our relationship. But that look on his face when I turned around and saw him standing in the doorway of our bedroom, with Jacques's cock being pulled out of my ass, was far worse than I'd imagined in my worst nightmares. I saw a broken, defeated man in front of me, the man that I loved. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear, but there I was. My hopes that somehow I could make it seem as if it wasn't as bad as it looked were quickly dashed. The list of things he verbally assaulted me with, things that clearly established that I hadn't, even at the moment of being caught, been honest, were compounded by the pictures he dropped on the bed. I was mortified as I looked at them, not even recognizing my face, and the look of lust upon it as I saw Jacques making use of my body. I knew that I didn't want to lose Bill, or my daughter. So I sat up half the night thinking of how I could convince Bill that I truly did love him. At the same time, I was a little angry at him. I could accept the fact that he was angry at me, after all he'd walked in on another man fucking me up the ass. But what about all the good times we'd shared? And those we could share together in the future? What about our daughter, didn't he think what a divorce would do to her? I wasn't the first one in the world to have an affair, and after all, it was only the sex, I didn't love Jacques, I loved Bill! Couldn't he see by how enthusiastically I had made love to him, even while things were going on with Jacques, that I still loved him? Even if I hadn't let him fuck me in the ass, I was thinking of a way to bring it up again, and let him try, after all without Jacques I never would have realized how good it felt. I thought I was ready for him the next day, but things did not go well. My great idea to try and convince him that the affair was only about sex, and that I'd always loved him, didn't convince him. In fact, everything he brought up was turned by him to show that I had chosen 'sex' over 'love', any time I had to choose. I wish that I could have been more articulate and been able to make my case, but my constant tears interfered with my attempts to explain how I loved him. I had never realized that he would be as hurt by me having an affair, and the pain that showed on his face as he talked impacted on me. Yet the tone of voice, at times, especially when he was going on about how he knew I was cheating, and how I could let Jacques fuck me over and over again , was like he was spitting nails at me. In addition to the pain and hurt, it was obvious that he had hate, hate for what I had done, and hate for me. Finally he told me that it wasn't him that was throwing out all the good times, but me, and turned and walked out. As he did, I realized that I couldn't stop him from getting a divorce if he wanted it, especially with those pictures. As I packed some things, I realized that I'd better see a lawyer and talk it over, to see if it was best to go along with what Bill wanted. My heart broke again as I looked around my home, perhaps for the last time. I phoned a friend, Judy, who was divorced and asked if I could come and stay with her for a few days. She was shocked when I told her that Bill wanted a divorce, telling me that she had never known a couple who seemed more suited for each other. I couldn't bring myself to tell her that it was because I had cheated on him, and instead found myself listening as she ranted about what a bastard he must be, and how was I going to cope. As she went on, the anger started to overcome the hurt again. How could he end what we had, just because I had a fling? Surely he realized I would end it and things could be as they were. The lawyer I saw told me, once I hesitantly told her the situation, that Bill was right. In our state, the cheating parent pays the price in custody battles, and the property division Bill had proposed was great compared to what the courts may give me under the circumstances. She agreed to contact Bill's lawyer and get the settlement documents put together and signed as soon as possible. Still I hoped, that maybe by my cooperating so fully, that Bill would look at things a little differently. Its funny, but I didn't think of Jacques that week. This was the first time in almost a year that we hadn't gotten together. When I did finally think of him, I thought that this might be for the best, any chance of getting together with Bill would end if he found out I was back with Jacques. In fact, I thought this was might bit a test, maybe Bill still had the private investigator following me to see if I ran back into Jacques arms. Maybe if I showed him that it was over, he would reconsider and let me come back to him. With that thought in mind, I resolved to stay away, as much as I could have used him with his arms wrapped around me to give me comfort. My resolve held for about a month, until one night when I was out for a walk, I saw Bill and another woman coming out of a restaurant, laughing at some joke. How could he! How could Bill see another woman! Didn't he realize how much I loved him? What about our daughter, what would she think of her father going out with another woman, making love to her? By then, I had found a small apartment of my own and I ran back to it, tears streaming down my face. I struggled to get the key in the lock, finally unlocking it. As I sat on the couch, sobbing, I couldn't believe the hurt I felt at the thought of my Bill being unfaithful to me. I cried myself to sleep that night, thinking of Bill with that other woman. I moped around all the next day, not being able to get the image of Bill fucking somebody else out of my mind. Finally I decided, what the hell! I'd go and see Jacques again, at least I knew he'd be happy to see me. Our arrangement had been to get together every Thursday at lunch time. It was only Wednesday, but I thought I'd take a chance and surprise him. I drove by his shop, and was thrilled to see the 'Closed' sign in the window, and headed to his apartment, holding the key he'd given me. The thoughts of having some more of that wonderful loving, and of hearing his sexy voice whispering endearments in my ear were enough to get my juices flowing. After all it had been over a month since that fateful day. I'm sure my panties were soaked by the time I arrived at his place. Trembling with anticipation, I opened the door. I couldn't see him, but thought I heard something coming from his bedroom. Thinking how much he'd like the surprise, I quickly and quietly crossed the floor and burst in the room, saying "Hello lover, ready to give me some of that great cock" Just then I realized that he wasn't alone, in fact he was deep into a sixty-nine, his head lapping the pussy of some bitch, who was in the process of devouring his cock. "Sarah" he said, as he pulled his mouth away from that cunt. "I didn't expect to see you." "How could you do this Jacques, how could you cheat on me?" I cried as the woman scampered out of bed and ran to the bathroom. "Cheat on you Sarah, come on now, we aren't even married." "But Jacques, what about us?" "What do you mean, us? I never told you that you were my only woman, after all Sarah, lots of women like my company. We had fun, you got what you wanted. Its just too bad that your husband came home. I'd love to get together with you again, but Thursday is filled in, let me check my schedule and I'll get back to you." I stood there with my mouth open, as he went on, "If you want to get together, give me a shout. Now if you don't mind, I am entertaining a guest, so please leave." I was devastated, only know understanding what Jacques truly felt about me, about our relationship. For him, I was just another conquest, another notch on his belt. But for him, I had destroyed my marriage and the man I loved! For the next hour or two, I just walked around, kind of zombie like. I thought I had the best of both worlds, but now, I had nothing. Jacques, it appears, had never been faithful to me. And Bill, could I really blame him if he was having sex with the girl I saw him with. Me, I had nothing, no Bill, no Jacques, and only limited time with my child. It was only then, as the hurt and pain washed over me that the reality of what I'd done set in, of what I had done to Bill, our marriage, our love. Only now did I understand the hurt that Bill felt when the clues added up to me cheating. And the shock and disgust he must of felt when he first saw the pictures of me and Jacques, and then the ultimate horror of finding me getting fucked in our own bed. Its funny, until now I had accepted the fact that Bill had some right to be angry, and that I was the guilty one. But until I experienced the hurt and pain myself, I had never truly understood the pain Bill had undergone, the pain I saw on his face and heard in his voice. Now I understood how wrong I had been!! It was at that moment that I understood how much Bill had loved me, and how much I had loved him. I realized that with what I had done, it was unlikely he would forgive me. But I knew that I had to tell him I now understood how I had destroyed him and us. As part of my visitation rights, I usually went to the house to pick up our daughter. It had been rough on her but she clearly still loved me. Fortunately Bill was cordial, if brief, when I came to pick her up and return her, and unlike many other fathers in a similar position, had resisted the temptation to bad mouth me to her. That Friday evening when I went to pick her up, I told Bill that I would like to speak with him when I returned her on Sunday evening. Somewhat quietly, he agreed to talk. That weekend, I told my daughter that she shouldn't be mad at daddy because we weren't living together, but it was mommy who had done something that hurt daddy badly. I don't know if she understood in detail, but at least she showed me she still loved me. When we got back to the house on Sunday evening, we told her to go take her bath, as we needed to talk. Bill invited me into the living room, where he sat across the room from me. "Bill, it's only know that I truly understand what I have done to you. You may not believe it, but I never intended to hurt you, to get involved and to destroy us." I explained how I never understood the depth of his hurt until I saw him the other night coming out of the restaurant, and how in my hurt I had decided to go and see Jacques again, and what I had walked into. I explained that the hurt I felt was incredible, though far greater when I had seen Bill. It was only after that I realized the enormity of the hurt that I had caused him. He surprised me a bit when he told me the woman I'd seen was a business associate from out of town, a woman whose name I recognized when he said it. Had things not happened as they had, I would have been there with him that night, just as he had gone out with her and her husband when at meetings in their city. He told me that I was right, the hurt was unbelievable, but even so, he knew that it would be a long time until he could get together with another woman. For the first time, we actually discussed what had happened. I tried to explain that I really didn't know why it happened, that I hadn't been looking for it, but somehow I had become intoxicated by Jacques, and how I apparently wasn't the only one. Bill told me that he knew from the investigators report that Jacques had been involved with at least three or four other married women while our affair had been going on. Bill asked me if it was because I was dissatisfied with his performance. I hope he believed me when I told him that it had nothing to do with it, and that Bill was every bit as good a lover as Jacques. I explained how looking back, I had become addicted to Jacques, the way he talked, the way he convinced me how special I was, his voice, the accent. It was almost as I couldn't control myself I told Bill. I told him that one thing that I did regret about our own sexual life, was the fact that I had denied him any access to my ass. I told him I didn't intend to let Jacques fuck me there, for if anyone was going to do it, it should have been Bill. I acknowledged that after I had done it the first time, I tried to think of how I could encourage Bill to try, but afraid that doing so would expose me. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 05 As we talked I think that he finally accepted that I always had loved him, even while I was having my affair. However it was clear that he couldn't get around the fact that I had the affair, especially a long lasting one, and the choices I had made without realizing what I was doing. Bill told me that yes, his love for me had not totally disappeared, but he truly didn't think that he could trust me, at least at this point in time. He couldn't forgive yet, and definitely couldn't forget, but he understood things somewhat better. I asked him for the names of the other women, and told him that I wanted to talk to them, to give them a chance to stop before they ruined their lives as I'd ruined ours. By the time I left that evening, I knew something had been salvaged. The divorce would go ahead, but a form of friendship remained, as it should, for we both recognized that we still loved the other. Maybe, someday down the road, we could build on things, and somehow reconnect what we once had, or at least close to it. I knew that I didn't want another man, and I don't think Bill wanted another woman. I once thought I had the best of both worlds, but I was only half right, the illusion of that other, had torn apart the best thing that I could ever have, and only time would tell if I could ever get it back. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 06 It has been some time since I updated this story, but work and life sometimes get in the way. I appreciate the many comments I did receive asking for me to continue this story, and accept that some of you will enjoy it, while others will not. I carried the birthday cake to the table, being careful to not let the candles burn out. There were only two of us there to share Jennifer's 11th birthday, with her, as we had invited her mother over for cake and ice cream. Tonight was family night, her big bash with all her friends would be held on the weekend. As I set the cake on the table, her mother in a cheerful voice encouraged her to blow out all the candles and make a wish. Jennifer took a deep breath and blew hard, but one of the candles only flickered and didn't go out. I think both Sarah and I felt bad, after the candle blowing is important to a child, and started to commiserate with her, telling her it was okay. After making a sad face for a minute, Jennifer spoke up saying, "It probably doesn't matter, after all I've made the same wish for the last few years, and we haven't become a family again, so I was probably wasting my breath." I know I felt the sadness in her voice, and when I looked over at Sarah I could tell from the look in her eyes, that she felt it too. To her credit, Sarah spoke first, telling Jennifer that sometimes things didn't work out the way we wanted, and that sometimes things were just meant to be a certain way, but that both her mommy and daddy loved her. The three of us sat around for a while, eating the cake and talking about happy things for Jennifer, the plans for her big party, her activities at school and how well she was doing on her soccer team. As we did, the mood brightened considerably, so that by the time Sarah left for her apartment, and Jennifer went to get ready for bed, all appeared to have been forgotten. I finished cleaning up and went to watch some television before heading to bed myself. As I sat there Jennifer's comment came back to my mind. Thinking about it made me reflect on all that had happened since that fateful Saturday almost four years ago..... Clearly, when I headed off to meet with the private investigator I'd hired to find out if my suspicions were correct about Sarah having an affair, I knew deep inside what I'd find out. As much as I hoped it wouldn't be true, there was just too much, too many clues to be anything but. Still, I had no idea as to whom she was fooling around with. When he went through his report and identified the asshole who was cuckolding me, I recognized the fact that he was apparently a French glassblower, and recalled Sarah speaking about him many months ago, and how we'd teased each other about it. At the same time, I could recall similar teasing in the past, sometimes about a woman I'd met or noticed, sometimes about a guy whom she found attractive, or who appeared to notice her. I couldn't help but wonder if this was the only one, or had I been blind for years. The pictures he handed me clearly wiped out any vestige of doubt, there she was, my Sarah, the only woman I'd loved or made love to, involved in every sexual activity with this animal. The looks on her face, the actions she was performing, things that I'd always assumed were reserved for me. Even though I'd been expecting this, the reality of the report, and the pictures blew me away. Part of me wanted to find that bastard and rip his head off, cut off his cock and feed it to the dogs. But I knew I couldn't do that, as much as I might want to. I had met with my attorney a few weeks ago, to find out about my rights, especially as they related to our daughter. He pointed out that in our state, the non-cheating spouse almost always was granted custody, unless they were considered violent and dangerous. Clearly doing what I so desperately wanted to do, could allow me to be considered violent and dangerous, if not sent to jail for criminal assault causing bodily harm. I loved my daughter with every ounce of my being, and couldn't risk losing her because of this vermin, who'd stepped in to ruin my marriage, and take away what I'd always assumed would be my one and only love. As for Sarah, the thought of her having custody of Jennifer, after destroying me through her actions, would have been too much. If I lost Jennifer now, I may as well kill myself, for my reasons for living would have been gone. All this was running through my mind as I headed home for the confrontation, thankful only for the fact that Jennifer wouldn't have to see or hear it. Yes it would be hard to explain it to her, hell, I didn't understand it myself, why had Sarah gone and destroyed us, and what we had. Thank god that I had given this a lot of thought before I got home for the planned confrontation, or otherwise I may have acted a lot differently than I did. So much for rational thought. Nothing, not even the pictures prepared me for the shock I experienced when I turned to look in our bedroom and found my wife, my supposed love, on all fours on our marital bed, with this bastard drilling his cock up her ass. In some ways now I can almost laugh, albeit bitterly, at the thought that I'd find her performing the one sexual activity she'd denied me, with her lover. I've done my share of reading erotic stories online, after all, who hasn't. The stories that amaze, and almost sicken me, are those where a husband gets off on half the neighborhood screwing his wife, how he has to jerk off, join in or cum in his pants. Let me tell you, there was no such reaction as I'd stared at what was going on in front of me. To this day I still don't know how I held off being physically sick right then and there. After choking my lunch back down into my stomach, my first reaction was to kick him square in the balls and beat him to within an inch of his life. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to overcome those feeling, constantly reminding myself about Jennifer, and how I couldn't let her down in the way her mother had let both of us down. Even then, I didn't have any desire to hit or beat Sarah, I've never hit her or any other woman, and never will. At one point I think she tried to reach out to hug me, but I quickly recoiled and pulled away, never wanting to touch her again. As I sat thinking about what had gone on, I realized that much of what happened I'd confronted them was a blur. I remembered her crying, wondering to myself if it was solely because she'd been found out, or did she actually regret her actions, but I can't remember much of what either of us said. I knew I needed to get out of there, the sight of the messed up bed, the smell of their activities being more than I could bear, so I remember telling her I'd be back the next day, and that she better be ready to move out before I had to pick Jennifer up. By the time I'd returned the next day, I was again in control of my emotions, though overwhelmed with the hurt and pain of her treachery. Even know I can't believe how Sarah tried to explain it away as only 'sex', telling me that she still loved me, and that we could work thing out. Yeah right, her actions to date sure had shown me how much she 'loved' me, and where I fit in that competition with 'sex'. One of the hardest things I had to do was to tell my daughter that mommy wasn't living with us any more, but that she would still see her from time to time. She couldn't understand it, and I wasn't going to explain why, she was to young and didn't need that. But I knew that it was important for her mother to be part of her life, and that mommy loved her. As much as I would have preferred never letting Sarah see Jennifer again, I knew I couldn't take her away from her mother forever, without it backfiring on me or more importantly, Jennifer in the long run. Even though I hated Sarah at that moment, I had to acknowledge that she had been a good loving mother to Jennifer, attentive and caring. I must admit that those first few months were the roughest on me. In looking back, I'm not proud of the increased drinking. No, I didn't go and get drunk all the time, but I started having a drink or two after getting Sarah down for the night, and on a few weekends when Jennifer was with Sarah, I did sit and drown my sorrows, feeling sorry for myself as I tried to figure out what went wrong. Had I been the one that screwed up, or the old constant, why did she do it. Maybe it was fortunate that as we get older, it takes us longer to recover from a hard night of drinking, so I don't think there was a real risk that booze would take over my life. Given a choice between macho pride, or doing what was best for Jennifer, I decided to swallow my pride, and work to ensure that Jennifer did get quality time with Sarah. I granted her every second weekend with Jennifer, along with other visitation rights. I also bit my tongue and tried to act polite whenever she came to pick up or return Jennifer, telling myself that it was in the best interests of Jennifer to act like a reasonable person, rather than pouring out my bitterness and anger. I was somewhat surprised when about a month after our separation Sarah asked to speak to me, and even more shocked when she gave what seemed to be a sincere apology, accepting all the blame, sounding a little like the Sarah I'd known and loved. But at the same time, she was still the Sarah that had betrayed me, had lost my respect and trust, things I didn't think I would ever regain. I told her I accepted her apology, though in truth, only as a token apology. After all, should one moment of apparent sincerity overcome months of betrayal, months when she purported to act as my loyal, loving wife? I was cordial, almost pleasant when we met to exchange Sarah, or at school functions when we met face to face. But that was only when I had to put on a pleasant public face. Whenever she picked up or dropped off Jennifer I would appear to be almost friendly, but in truth this was still an act designed to avoid adding any hurt to Jennifer. There were a few times that first year I ran into her while out and about town. I could see the hurt in her eyes when she would approach me, with a hesitant smile, saying hello, only to see me stare at her, then turn away with a look of disgust on my face. Every time I saw her it was like she was sticking that dagger into me and ripping out my insides. I saw that face, the one I'd loved, the eyes that had looked at me with love for all those years, wondering now if in fact it had been love. I saw that body, the one I'd know so well, and remembered her giving it to that asshole. I say the smile light up her face, and wanted to rip it away, how could she smile? The only consolation was that if I saw her before she saw me, I saw some of that same defeated look on her face that I felt. You get the point, I was bitter, but heh, didn't I have the right?. Conversation when we were around Jennifer, was polite, though awkward. Not much was ever said about what was going on in our own private lives, after all I didn't care or want to know what Sarah was doing. One major change that occurred shortly after I left Sarah, was the sale of our home. I couldn't face going into our bedroom without visualizing that final action of Sarah disproving her love, or for that matter, the rest of the house without bringing up to many other memories. So Jennifer and I had gone house hunting, finding a nice place in the same area to allow Jennifer to keep her friends and not have to change schools. After all, it was enough to have her mother move out and to move to a new house. I must admit that first Christmas was one of the more awkward times, we had agreed that we would share the overall Christmas holiday, and that first year, I had the first half, including Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I don't know what Sarah felt, but I know I hurt watching Jennifer opening presents, in a new house, without her mother that morning. But I did my best to keep things upbeat, as hard as it was for me. Of course, Jennifer had been my saviour for these past years. Without her I couldn't have coped with Sarah's treachery. But fortunately she was there, and gave me focus to my life. It was tough at first, but her presence made me realize that I couldn't sit there every night with a bottle. If nothing else, I had to live for her. As well, I had another focus that helped me get through those early days, Jacques Hamel, No matter how much I might want to get him out of my mind, the memory of walking in on them that fateful day, and the smug look on his face as he dressed and walked by me was forever printed on my mind. I'd vowed that someday I'd get even with him for his role in destroying my life. There were moments when I sat there alone late at night, a glass in my hand, I couldn't help but think of performing acts of torture on him, imagining him screaming in pain. However, I knew it couldn't be physical, after all while a judge may sympathize with me, or how good I might initially feel, I would be guilty of a crime, and Jennifer had already been hurt enough without losing me to a jail cell. I remembered how I finally decided to contact my investigator and hired him to find out whatever he could about that bastard. Finally, early in that first new year, he got back to me, indicating his report was ready. He confirmed, as I'd already known, that Jacques seemed to have quite the thing going with a number of married women. Without my asking, he advised that it appeared that Sarah was no longer seeing him, not that I cared anyway. Apparently he had no trouble in replacing Sarah in his stable of willing women. Of more importance, he provided a number of pictures of Sarah's erstwhile lover in action with his harem, and the identity of these women. I had to admit that he was clever, his fiancee, yes he was engaged, was going working on her doctorate and only was able to get home to Jacques every couple of weekends. This left him all the time he needed to explore his extra curricular activities without the knowledge of his girlfriend. Of more interest was the fact that much of the work that Jacques sold as being created by him, had in fact been produced by others and was merely sold under his name, again I doubted that the producers of the work knew that this was happening. The supposed fact that he was producing and selling his own work was a major factor in the success of his business. Apparently Jacques had some ability to work with glass, but most of what he produced was more junk then quality. It was this piece of information that allowed me to start to put a plan in place. The region where we lived was very arts conscious, and took steps through an annual awards program to recognize and reward area artists. To my pleasant surprise I learned that my good 'friend' Jacques had been awarded a major prize, based on his skill in the design and production of the 'amazing' works he produced. The trophy and accompanying monetary award would be presented at an awards gala. In the weeks following the announcement I continued with the rest of my planning, wanting to ensure that Jacques got as much as possible out of everything that would be happening. Finally the big night arrived. I was pleased to see the flustered look on Jacques face as he noticed the presence of at least three of his flock, along with their husbands, a couple of whom were prominent members of the community, and who like me, were not aware of their wives infidelity. However the arrogant look I'd seen in my bedroom soon returned as person after person congratulated him on his award. Soon it was time for the formal presentations. Jacques sat there beaming as the first speakers praised him on his work, the skill and craftsmanship he showed and suggested that soon his work would be priceless. It was only as the third speaker got up that his appearance changed, and sweat appeared on his brow, listening as the speaker was introduced as another craftsman who would comment on Jacques' work. I wish I'd had a camera, not only to focus on Jacques, but on everybody else who knew him, and praised him, as the speaker exposed him as a fraud. You see he could do this, because much of the work Jacques sold was produced by him. The real artist had understood Jacques was selling it for him and paying him a commission on his sales, which he did in fact receive. However, until my man had contacted him, he wasn't aware that Jacques was selling sell it as his own. It had been a bit tricky arranging for him to be among the speakers, but to me, it was well worth the effort, in fact, you could say that it was priceless. The muttering from the crowd, the people pulling away from him did wonders for my morale. I did feel a little remorse for the organizers who were watching their event blow up, but it was more than overcome by the satisfaction I felt as I watched Jacques's little world disintegrate. The public exposure wasn't the only thing I'd planned for that night. Just before the real artist was introduced, I'd arranged for an envelope to be delivered to his fiancee, containing pictures, all nicely dated, of Jacques performing with his flock, including Sarah. After all, I didn't owe her any favours. To bad I hadn't sent her a ticket too! I had to admit she was pretty smart, she appeared to recognize some of the gals as those who had flocked around Jacques prior to the start of dinner. I'm not sure if the daggers coming out of her eyes were intended solely for her soon to be ex, or those who may no longer feel that the sex was that great after all. Similar envelopes were given to his soon to be former playmates. Their reactions were interesting, two of them appeared mortified that their apparent secret was no more, and worse, that they weren't the sole love interest. The third gal seemed to take it more personal, recognizing and glaring at first the other women, then Jacques, then trying to compose herself while her husband was watching the activity around Jacques. It was hard to contain a smile when I approached him, as he sat alone, ashen faced, soaked from the drink thrown in his face by his now ex, and told him "No hard feelings, Jacques, after all, it's just a game, isn't it?" Even now I must admit I still feel the glow of satisfaction that ran through me that evening, it didn't make up for what I'd lost, but still, at least it was something. The fall out from his exposure added to my twisted satisfaction, with the loss in business and ridicule forcing him to close his shop, just ahead of the landlord. I also heard that his fiancee took out her anger against his sports car, taking a hammer and knife to it, along with a bottle of sulpheric acid. I only wished that I had a picture of that, rather than those of Jacques and Sarah. Its funny, only after I got the satisfaction of Jacques' public humiliation, did I finally start to think about sex and women, despite the fact that a number of my friends, and for that matter, friends of Sarah had tried to set me up in the months following our separation. But now that my fixation with getting my revenge against Jacques had been taken care of, I did start to notice attractive women as they walked down the street, or sat at a restaurant table exposing their long legs. I began to think that I didn't need to be a hermit to be a good father to Jennifer, and that by living a normal life I would in fact help her adjustments. By then I'd also been to a doctor, advising him that I needed testing for STD's because my former wife had been active with an overly indulging asshole. Fortunately for me, the tests came back clear. So finally, to the surprise of one of my buddies, I agreed when he suggested for about the tenth time that I should go out on a date, and let him set me up with Pat. I couldn't believe how nervous I felt when I pulled up to her door, surely it hadn't been that bad when I was in high school, before Sarah. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 06 Pat was a tall statuesque blonde, just a few years younger than me, dressed so I couldn't help but notice her curves, the slit in her skirt also acting to show off her legs. She was also divorced, but with no children. We went out for dinner, laughing about how awkward we felt on a blind date, me more so because at least she'd tried it before. She was quite pleasant, and we hit it off as we headed off to a movie. I didn't know if I should try and take her hand, put my arm around her or what, so I did none of the above until we left the theatre. Then it felt quite natural to put my arm around her as we walked to my car. I hesitated when she asked me in for a drink, finally deciding what did I have to lose. Well, to make a long story short, before long I found myself in her bedroom, my lips pressed up against her, tongues dueling. I think Pat had been told that I had been out of action for some time, so she took the initiative, rubbing her hand over my hardening cock, then undoing my pants and pulling it out to stroke, before sliding me back onto her bed and taking it into her mouth. It had been so long, that I knew I couldn't hold off for long, and I think she knew it to, for when she pulled off and looked at me, telling me to relax and enjoy the moment, who was I to argue? Minutes later I could feel myself tense up, then exploding as cum poured into her waiting mouth, with Pat sucking to squeeze out every last drop. I lay back reveling in the moment, finally realizing that I should reciprocate. I finished pushing my pants off, then stood up and unzipped her dress. I couldn't help but enjoy the view as her sheer pale blue bra and thong panties were revealed to my eyes. She reached behind her to undo her bra, allowing me free access to those beautiful beckoning breasts. I think both of us moaned as I sucked the first nipple into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue and nibbling at it with my teeth. At the same time, I reached down and caressed her mound, feeling the wetness spread across the narrow crotch of her thong. As it got wetter, she slipped them off, wanting the direct contact between my fingers and her pussy, something that I was prepared to accommodate her in. My thumb played with her clit, as I slid my middle finger up inside her, feeling her respond to the movements of my fingers. Also responding was my cock, as the sensory overload I was experiencing led it to climb back to fully erect status. I knew I wanted to fuck her, no I knew I needed to fuck her, but first I wanted to taste her. I spread her thighs and kissed my way down from her breasts, running my tongue across her shaven mons, until it dipped into her flowing juices. It's funny, but as I did, I couldn't help but think of the first time I tasted Sarah's newly shaven pussy, and the sense of sorrow it caused me. Today there was no sorrow, just a sense of enjoyment as I tasted her, thrusting my tongue as far up as it would go, and then sucking her clit until she spasmed, pushing my face into her as her orgasm overcame her. By now I was fully erect again, ready for action. I moved until my cock was rubbing up against the lips of her pussy, when the reality of the situation overcame me, and the issue of the use of a condom came to mind, especially since I didn' t have one. Pat must have read my mind because she spoke up and told me to go ahead, she was on the pill and clean. I still was a bit reluctant, not knowing her that well, but it had been a long time and I needed to feel like a man again, so I moved forward and pushed, the head of my cock easily sliding between her lips, sinking into the warm, wet depth of her pussy. It's a good thing I had already cum, or my first thrust into a warm, willing pussy in almost a year would have caused me to erupt, much like the eager teenager I'd been on my first time with Sarah. However, I must admit I didn't last as long as I would have liked, but still, it felt pretty darn good. Based on her reactions, I think Pat enjoyed it too. I know she wanted me to stay the night, but I had to get home to relieve the babysitter and be there for Jennifer. Later that night, as I lay in my own bed and replayed the action, I couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. Yes, the sex was great, and felt good, but at the same time, something was missing, the emotional attachment, the love that had been part of my relationship with Sarah from day one. Without it the act was merely fun and enjoyment, but nothing more. I couldn't help but wonder what Sarah had gotten out of it with Jacques that made her keep going back. If she had merely felt what I felt, once would have been enough. Heck, even though I was divorced, I felt guilty. It was only the knowledge that I was free, along with the need for sexual release that caused me to seek out others over the next couple of years. I did see Pat once again, and must admit that my performance was much better than the first time. Over the next year or so, I ended up dating a number of different women, most on set ups or introductions from friends. I was amazed at how easy it was to get these women into bed, in fact in a number of cases, they were more anxious than I was. I'm not sure, but I think it was the fact that they had been in prior long term relationships or marriages and felt the loneliness and desires that engulfed me, the feelings that led me to go on these dates. With most of them, I think that they were looking for a pleasant evening and to get laid, rather than a new attachment, though they wouldn't chase it away if it happened. Unfortunately, none of them really captured my interest or my heart. They were nice and pleasant, but in no case did I feel the overwhelming passion I'd felt with Sarah. I had fun, and enjoyed the sex with them, who wouldn't, but every time when I returned home, I couldn't help but think back to what we'd shared in the past, asking myself how could she have thrown it all away. At least I finally got to try anal sex, the one thing that Sarah had always denied me. It was on a second date with Carla, who though she appeared quiet and conservative when out in public, turned into a tigress in the bedroom. Of all the women, sex with her was the wildest, though in retrospect I'm still not sure if it was the most pleasurable or just the most exhausting. Still, I definitely had a thrill when after having my finger slide up into her tight little hole while performing oral sex on her, when she asked me if I wanted to "fuck her ass". Carla provided me with some lubrication, and got on all fours as I used first one, then two fingers to help loosen up that back passage. After all the times that Sarah had denied me, I still couldn't really believe that it was happening! I lined my cock up against her rosebud, and pushed the head slowly into her. I could feel her sphincter stretch, and shift to accommodate my cock as I eased my way in, helped by the ample lubrication, and encouraged by Carla telling me how good it felt as I filled her ass, moaning and pushing back. Finally I was fully inside her. I paused a moment, then started to pull back, then stroking forward again. It felt so tight, so good, I knew I wouldn't last long. Encouraged by Carla, I picked up the pace, finally emptying myself deep inside her bowel as she came. Even then, I couldn't help but think about Sarah, wanting to say to her "Take that, you bitch, I wasn't good enough to do it to you, but somebody was sure willing." Now I was no Casanova, in fact over the years since I kicked Sarah out, I probably only dated six or seven women, and none of them more than three times. My friends often would bug me about 'playing the field', and I had to agree with them that it wasn't my first choice, but there was no point in tying myself down with one of these gals if I really didn't think it had a chance of going anywhere, and while they were all very pleasant, I never felt any special connection. Mind you, I'd be a liar if I said that I didn't enjoy the sex. Maybe it was that I was such an irresistible piece of mankind, but more realistically I think it was our age, the fact that all of them had been married and now were going without on a regular basis, but they all wanted to go to bed with me. With each of them it was different, but during the moment, very enjoyable. Yet it wasn't the same, maybe it was the love that was missing, but every night when I went home, I felt empty, physically satisfied, but emotionally empty. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 07 As I headed home that evening, the tears again began to flow. How I'd retained my composure when Jennifer made her statement about wishing we could be a family again was beyond comprehension. What was worse was the realization that I was the one responsible for everything. Bill wasn't the only one to look back on the past that night, I sat there and tried again, for about the millionth time to try and figure out why I'd fallen for Jacques' charms, and why I kept going back to him. That was the worst of it, the going back, maybe, just maybe, if I'd come to my senses, not tried to prove my will power to myself by going back that second time, my world wouldn't have fallen apart. Had I come clean and confessed to Bill after that first time, we probably would have survived, albeit with some difficulty. But despite the guilt I felt, I hadn't, and I still lived with the consequences of my actions. Even now, when I looked back, it seemed like a dream, a horrible dream. They say that life can change in an instant, in my case the, the instant I heard that voice say Sarah, and looked up as Bill stood there in the doorway, my world came crashing down upon me. In reality, the first couple of months after the discovery I was in shock. Bill telling me he wanted a divorce, finding Jacques had a harem, and I wasn't really that 'special', just a regular fuck, and seeing Bill with another woman, even though it turned out to be innocent, it all just seemed to pile up on me. I couldn't help but think back to during the affair, when I'd somehow convinced myself that it wasn't that serious, wrong yes, but nothing that would lead to a divorce, or even cause problems. After all, it was just a fling, a 'life experience'. It would end soon and then everything would be back to normal, Bill would never know and our lives together would continue to be wonderful. Even after I was caught, and realized how angry and hurt he was, I truly believed Bill would get over it, accept my apology and take me back, after all, he knew I loved him and he loved me. For that matter, I have to admit I was shocked that he kicked me out, at that time I convince myself that he was over reacting. Certainly many of you would have me tarred and feathered, or some such humiliation heaped upon me, but in all honesty, after Bill walked in on me, it was like I was acting on auto-pilot, I existed, had some thought process, but nothing was real to me. I don't say this as an excuse, because I wasn't like that during the affair, but merely to help explain how I got through the next period of my life. From the moment I first saw his face, I knew I could never have another affair. I tied to convince myself Bill would understand, and accept that this was a one time mistake, and after he'd cool off, we would get back together. Yes, I know that I went back to try and see Jacques right after Bill told me he wanted to divorce me, but at the time I was in total shock, and think that in some way I was punishing Bill for not forgiving me. Why I had to punish him escapes me now, and should have back then. In hindsight it was pretty stupid to think he would quickly forgive and forget, but I had to think that, or I may have gone out and killed myself. I remembered telling him how I'd felt when I saw him with somebody else, thinking that Bill would see this as me recognizing his feelings and let it be a major first step towards a reconciliation. Unfortunately, it didn't take long to realize that I was wrong. Bill was polite, if a bit distant when I picked up or returned Jennifer, or if we met at a school function. Yet I'd never forget the look of total disgust on his face the first time the two of us accidentally ran into each other on our own, how he walked away without replying when I pleasantly said hello to him. Still, in the dream world I occupied, I couldn't help but believe that it was only a matter of time until we were back together, living as a happy family. We would work things out, I reluctantly accepted that it might take longer than I wanted, but Bill would forgive me, realizing that he was the only man for me and that I was the only one for him. Somehow, my thought process didn't connect that my affair suggested to Bill that he wasn't the only man for me. It was a few months later that I heard about Jacques being exposed as a fraud at the art's council awards banquet. I wondered if somehow Bill was involved, and I think I hoped he was, at least it might show that he was fighting for me, but I never could get a conversation going that might let me bring up the subject, and Bill didn't volunteer anything. Looking back, the episode that nearly pushed me over the edge still filled me with pain, but that pain was surely minor to that Bill must have felt. I'd met Jill for lunch at one of the trendier eating establishments that day. Partway through lunch Jill excused herself to visit the ladies room, leaving me at the table. Prior to then, I hadn't paid attention to the 2 women at the next table, but as I sat there she couldn't help but overhear their conversation. One of them was telling her friend about her recent hot date, going on and on about his performance in bed. I couldn't help but smile, albeit with a bit of sorrow and longing, as she described him going down on her, and how well his cock fit her mouth, and how he drove her over the edge as he made love to her. But what really got her attention was when the other asked how she had met this man. "It was a bit of a fluke, you know how Mary was always trying to set me up, well, Bill was divorced too, a friend of Jim's. Apparently Bill walked in on some guy fucking his wife. He got custody of his daughter and booted the bitch out. After spending time in bed with him, I can't imagine why his ex would have gone looking for more, I doubt she could have done better". I was stunned, thinking "it couldn't be, could it?" but deep down I knew that it was my Bill that the girl was talking about. It was then that things really hit home. Bill wasn't going to come running back for me with open arms, saying how much he loved and needed me. I now understood that he had always been faithful to me, in fact I always knew it. It was only my guilt that led me to believe that he probably had screwed around on me while we were married, after all if he was guilty, then he had to forgive me. But now it was clear that he was moving on, looking for somebody else to share his life, his bed. Somehow overhearing her, the fact that Bill had obviously discussed our break up, and listening to somebody say how good my husband was in bed, made me understand for the first time the depth of his hurt. That night I came close to killing myself, going so far as to get out a bottle of pills and glass of water to swallow them with. If I hadn't glanced over and focused on a picture of Jennifer, I would have swallowed them, but seeing her made me focus on not letting her down again. The combination of realizing the enormity of what I'd lost, together with the suicidal thoughts pushed me into counseling as a means to prevent a full blown breakdown. The visits with the counselor did help to some degree. I began to understand as we talked, about how there was something almost hypnotic about Jacques that made me, and others fall for his charms. But why did I swallow his bullshit, as well as his cock and spread my legs for him, over and over again. Why did I let him do what I refused Bill? Through the counselling I understood it was in part a reaction to getting older, that Bill didn't praise my looks as often as he had when we first fell in love, and how I thought he took me for granted. Somehow I'd rationalized my guilt at the time by figuring that he loved me so much, he forgive me if he'd ever discovered my cheating. I also realized to my chagrin, that I did the same things to him, took him and his love for granted, but to a far greater degree than he'd ever done to me. The counselling also led me to understand that these facts alone shouldn't have been enough to make me fall for Jacques, or at least after my first fall from grace, but I never did figure out what the real cause was. No, I couldn't point to abuse as a child, or my parents cheating as a trigger. There were factors, but what it came down to was that no matter what was said, I had done the deed. And now I had to live with the consequences. I also started to understand that yes, I did love Bill, and had always loved him, but hadn't always shown it. Clearly I'd put my love for him on the back burner, figuring it would always be reciprocated when I brought it out again. And after all hell had broken loose and I'd been found out, why should Bill believe me and accept my claims of future faithfulness. After all, what the saying, "Once a cheater, always a cheater." The healing process was long and slow, hindered by the recognition that I'd tossed away the two most precious things in my life, my daughter and husband. Had Bill played hardball and tried to deny access to Jennifer, I probably would have ended it all and taken my life. But the regular visits were a lifeline, and I waited eagerly for them, savouring every moment with Jennifer, hoping that at least I could rebuild my relationship with her, even if I couldn't with Bill. One thing you could say, was that I was determined. Every emotional slap I got in the face from Bill, or from comments heard from others pushed me down, but slowly I climbed back up. I finally accepted that Bill wouldn't come running back, professing his love and forgiveness, after all he had nothing to beg forgiveness for, so I decided that to do everything in my power to demonstrate my love for Jennifer, and take anything Bill wanted to dish out. And believe me, I did love Jennifer, even though I may not have shown it through my affair. It was my fault that we weren't together as a family, my fault she lived in a single parent home. Through counselling I began to understand how Bill probably had felt, and still felt. To put it bluntly the more I talked at my sessions the more I realized that I wouldn't take myself back, if the roles were reversed. Here I was trying to understand the level of hurt, from hearing about him with that woman after our divorce, how much worse would it have been if I'd walked in on him, had suspected him and found out he was cheating. "Yes," I thought, "he had every right to hate me after what I did to him, to us." Despite the never ending regret and remorse I felt, the acceptance of his rejection actually brought me a sense of peace, maybe because I knew there was no reason for him to take me back. As time went on, I got more and more involved with Jennifer. I attended all school and sporting events, never missing a game, and catching most practices. It was difficult seeing Bill knowing he hated me, but his public politeness, even after I realized it was a put on, made it more tolerable for me. I had no interest in dating, it was Bill or nobody, and since clearly he didn't want me, then nobody it was. I only wish that I'd never deviated from that policy with Jacques. A number of friends tried to set me up, but I politely told them thanks but no thanks. The same applied to the men who tried to hit on me, mind you, depending on how persistent they were in refusing to accept my rejection of them, I wasn't always that polite. The first Christmas after the separation had been particularly hard for me, Bill had Jennifer with him for Christmas, we'd agreed through our lawyers that I would get her the next year. Christmas had been a special time in our home, and being without my daughter and husband, along with the traditions we'd kept was especially traumatic, but I survived. It was the second Christmas that saw the door open, albeit ever so slightly. Jennifer had made it pretty clear that Christmas hadn't been the same the first year, heck, probably nothing was. But waking up on Christmas morning and having only one parent to share the day had brought up the hurt all over again. At the same time, she made it clear that she felt so bad for me being all alone Christmas day. One good thing about Bill, he'd never blamed me in front of Jennifer for the break up of our marriage, and managed to contain the hatred he felt for me when she was about. Later on, he did tell me that on the recommendation of his lawyer, he attended some classes for divorced parents. As that next Christmas approached, Jennifer talked wistfully about how sad Christmas was, and how Bill would be alone this year. Bearing those thoughts in mind, I'd screwed up my courage and when I picked Jennifer up in early December I'd spoken to Bill, " I understand if you aren't interested, but Jennifer was worrying about you being alone for Christmas. If you are I'd love to invite you over for dinner, for the day for that matter, but only if you have nothing to do. She is our daughter, and it would be nice if we could put things aside and try and make the day a bit more like she was used to, after all, she is only young once." In all honesty, I expected Bill to reject my offer out right, but to my shock he indicated that he'd think about it. I was even more surprised when he phoned me the next week to say that he'd come, asking what he could bring. To say things were awkward would be an understatement, I'm sure you could have cut the tension between us with a knife, but as the afternoon progressed things did get somewhat easier, probably because the way Jennifer lit up. Maybe she hoped we'd get back together, but we both had made it clear to her that this was a special day, and that's why we were all together. Bill seemed genuine in his pleasantness, but was still somewhat reserved most of the time. For my sake, fortunately my counselling sessions had led me to not put too much in the way of expectations on the day, but just to enjoy the feelings it brought. We did have a pleasant day, especially Jennifer, well, I'd be less than honest if I didn't admit that it was a special day for me too. While things didn't turn around overnight, at the same time they didn't revert to the exact way they had been prior to Christmas. While things were still cool, the overt hostility which I'd faced from Bill in public dissipated, being replaced with a general acceptance, if not warmth. But gradually, there was an acknowledgement of my presence at Jennifer's activities, and when Jennifer invited me to sit with them at a school function, Bill didn't oppose it. Gradually we started to share more events together for the sake of our daughter, cheering her on from the bleachers, watching proudly as parents should at her accomplishments, and failures where she had given her best. Jennifer started to invite me to share special occasions at her new home, birthdays, thanksgiving as well as Christmas. I treasured and enjoyed all of those, but at the same time felt great sadness, for the feeling of family and togetherness was just so fleeting, and not permanent. At the same time, I knew from what I overheard that Bill was still out dating other women. While it still hurt, I accepted that he was doing it because of what I'd done, and because of that, he was free, he wasn't cheating, he was a single man. There still were nights that I cried myself asleep thinking of him with other women, but the bitterness was now self directed, where it belonged, and not focused on Bill. I understood that while we hadn't had a perfect marriage, I'd thrown away one that many would have killed for. Maybe it was surprising that Jennifer brought up her feelings that night, or maybe it was more surprising that it hadn't happened earlier. In any event, as I struggled to fall asleep, I realized that while I had rebuilt my relationship with my daughter, what I truly wanted was to regain my family as a whole, a dream of the best the world could offer me, but sadly, only a dream. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 08 When I woke up the morning after Jennifer's birthday, my thoughts kept going back to last night, and at the same time, moving forward. I realized that it was time to do something that was long over due. There was no doubt that it would be very painful for me, but hopefully at the same time it would be therapeutic. However knowing it was time, and actually doing something about it were two different things. A few days passed while I debated with myself, and there were a few times that I nearly picked up the phone, but fear prevented me from doing anything, until finally, I gathered my courage and called Bill, asking if he would come over as I wanted to discuss some matters of importance. It would have been so easy to swallow a number of stiff drinks as I restlessly waited for him, but I'm pretty much a lightweight when it comes to drinking, and I knew I had to keep my mind clear. When Bill arrived it was clear that he was curious though somewhat anxious. Me, I was so nervous that I was almost shaking. I invited him in, and after pouring him a cup of coffee and sharing some small talk, I knew it was time. I started, "Bill, I hope you will hear me out, give me a chance to say everything I need to say, but if you want to walk out, I understand." I paused for a moment, and when he didn't get up and walk out, I continued, "We never really talked about what happened, I never explained what, or why I did what I did. I probably did try and say I was sorry, but I doubt either one of us understood me to mean what I was saying. So, I'm not begging for forgiveness, just looking for some closure, something that's long overdue. I know this won't be easy for us, but please...." With that I sat there looking at him, hoping beyond hope that he'd let me speak, but prepared to accept an outright rejection, to have him stand up and walk out on me. Bill sat there silently for a minute or two, finally saying "I wouldn't have said this a while ago, but maybe you're right, maybe we both need some closure. Go ahead, and speak your piece, I'll try not to interrupt, but it won't be easy." With that I took a deep breath, and started, "First and foremost, I want to say that I am sorry, sorry for what I did, and sorry for ruining things for us, sorry for hurting you and Jennifer. What I did was inexcusable. I'm sure that when I tried to say I was sorry before, it was only because I was caught. Yes, I am sorry I you found out, because of the pain it caused you. But more so, I'm sorry for doing what I did. There never should have been anything for you to find out about." After pausing for a minute, I continued, "I wish I could clearly explain why, but I can't, even after counseling. It would be easy to blame it on getting older, some cute medical depression problem, but I won't even try. But I can tell you, I will tell you, that it was nothing that you did. You were a wonderful husband, my best friend, all that I could ask for, and I loved you with all my heart, even if my actions make it impossible to believe. What I did to you and our family may make it hard to believe me, but it's true. I also want to say that you did nothing to cause me to act like this, you were the person I loved, the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I am the one who's fully at fault. It would be nice to point to an excuse, but there isn't any." "Secondly, for what it's worth, I want to swear to you that the only other person that I have had sex since we started dating was Jacques. Clearly I betrayed you, but only with him, though I know it was one too many." It was almost impossible for me to look at Bill as I spoke, as I was afraid of the pain, the rejection I'd see in his eyes, though I knew I needed to look at him, and have him look at me, if there was any possibility he would believe what I was saying. I must admit, he didn't look thrilled, but what I saw encouraged me to continue. "When I first met Jacques...., I don't know, it was almost like I was under a spell, I know how stupid that sound, but he had me reacting like I'd never before, and never would have believed I would. Even now when I look back, I can't believe that I ended up with him that first time. I'd had guys hit on me before, and never responded, and I wasn't looking for or wanting something else. And no, even though it sounds like one, I'm not using this 'spell' as an excuse, I was unfaithful to you, end of story." "I was so ashamed of myself when I left there that first time, hoping that I'd wake up and find out I was having a nightmare. I couldn't believe what had happened, that I really had been fucked by somebody else, by somebody other than you. When I got home, and looked at you, part of me wanted to die because of what I'd done. I wanted to confess right then and there, but I was afraid of what you'd do, afraid you'd throw me out. That night, the next week, I tried to make it up to you, to almost fuck you to death, so I could feel your love and hopefully, reassurance, or maybe just to reassure myself that I still had you. And I convinced myself, why tell you, why make you share my misery, it would be better if only I had to suffer, because there was no way it would happen again." Bill spoke up then, pointing out that if it had been the one time only, maybe things could have worked themselves out, but acknowledged that it still wouldn't have been easy, he would have tried, but who knows what would have happened. And he wanted to know, why, if my guilt and remorse was so strong, did it happen again? "That's the million dollar question, and the only answer I can give is because of my stupid pride. I went back there to prove to myself that I could face him, and not fall under his spell again, but instead, I just ended up under him again, and then I couldn't stop. He would try and lessen my guilt, suggesting that you were like other men, that you'd probably cheated on me. I know it wasn't true, and in reality I knew then it wasn't true, but by grasping at that straw, it deflected some guilt. And there was guilt, but every time I came home, and you didn't confront me, I began to believe the old 'no harm, no foul' bullshit. And after a while, the guilt mostly disappeared. I knew I shouldn't be doing it, but you weren't being hurt, or so I convinced myself." "I know it sounds trite, but once I was wrapped up in it, I convinced myself that you'd never find out, after all you didn't suspect me that first week, and if there ever was a time when it should have been obvious, at least in my mind, that was it. I convinced myself that I never gave you a reason to suspect me after that, so you wouldn't find out, and wouldn't be hurt. I realize now how stupid that was, but I guess we both know I wasn't thinking properly back then, if I was thinking at all." "It sounds ridiculous, but the few times I ever contemplated you finding out, my thinking was so irrational that I convinced myself that while you would be angry, I would prove my love for you and you'd forgive me, because you loved me so much." Surprisingly Bill was sitting there and letting me talk, though looking at his face, at his expressions, I knew this wasn't any easier for him than it was for me. "I know how stupid that sounds, but somehow, thinking that allowed me to continue. Never did I think about what would happen if you found out and wouldn't forgive me, I couldn't think about that or I'd have gone crazy. Mind you if I had thought about it, I would have stopped in a moment. I wish I could explain why I never stopped, the only thing that came out from counseling was that I had entered into that dream world, and was afraid to get out, because somehow that's when you'd figure it out." "Even then, I swear I never stopped loving you, though my actions painted a different picture. After all, you pointed out quite succinctly the things I did for him, but wouldn't for you, the man I supposedly loved. But I did love you, only I forgot what love meant, taking you and your love for granted. Everything I did screamed that I didn't love you, or if I did, that my love wasn't that strong, that you were secondary to me. And anything I might say flies in the face of what I did. So I'll tell you that I always did love you, more than anything, as hard as that may be to believe, and leave it to you to accept that or not." "I'm sure you wondered why I let him fuck my ass when I wouldn't let you, and I can honestly say that I didn't let him, he just did it. I never planned it, it was something that he just went ahead and did, and once he had his cock in my ass it was too late to make him stop. That was one of the things that even in my sheer stupidity and ignorance I still felt extremely guilty about, and I was furious with him, but what could I do, he'd already done it. I wanted to make it up to you, but I couldn't go up to you and tell you that I'd suddenly changed my mind and wanted you to take me there, that would have been an obvious sign of guilt. After all, even I could figure that out." If only you had made another move to play with me there, I would have somehow encouraged you, but no, I'd made it all to clear in the past, thus your love and respect for me prevented you from ever making another attempt. For what it's worth, I gave him shit about it, but once it was done, there was no reason to not let him again, though that awful day was only the second time. I guess he was claiming me, in our house, our bed." "The excuses to avoid lunch with you when I was meeting him, at the time I told myself that we'd do it again another day, it may be hard to believe I loved those lunches, and I didn't want to miss them, but I convinced myself that it would still be special on another day, and I did try to reschedule. The sad truth is that it's just another example of looking out solely for me, letting me have my cake and eat it too. I don't think I really comprehended that I was lying to you, I don't know why, but I must have felt that if we made it up another day, then it wasn't a lie, or depriving you, just postponing something." "The lingerie he saw first, another case of me being wrapped up in my own little dream world, after all you'd see it too, I never thought of it as putting him first, though how I never, I don't know. It never even crossed my mind that he saw it first, at least after the first time. Oh, yeh, my shaving my pubes, my counselor has suggested that the fact I let him do it when I knew I couldn't hide it was in part an attempt by me to bring it to a head, that the pressure of what I was doing was getting to me and that it was almost an attempt to get caught." Bill started to speak, but I interrupted him, "I know that seems too simplistic, and moralistic and I don't even believe it myself. It's merely another excuse, a cop out, and I don't expect you to buy it. But nothing about that time, about how I forgot who I was, and forgot about you and Jennifer and us as a family, makes any more sense." Fortunately, Bill never asked for details about the sex, nor did I go into graphic descriptions about what I'd done with Jacques, though I did point out to Bill that he was a much better lover than Jacques. However all that disclosure did was raise another of those "why" questions that I couldn't answer. I paused a moment, trying to collect myself, so that I could carry on, wiping the tears that were running down my face. Looking at Bill, I could see similar emotions, the pain, the hurt, and a bit of tenderness. Most importantly, he was still sitting there, letting me ramble on. I proceeded to tell him that I believed I went into shock when he had walked in on us, though the look on his face when I saw him there was something that will be forever imprinted on my mind. I told him how most of the next few weeks were still a blur to me. There were things that to this day stuck in my mind, especially his love versus sex discourse, and my reaction to seeing him with another woman, though it turned out to be totally innocent. I vaguely remembered my first attempt at an apology, but was still to wrapped up in myself at that time to understand what was happening, believing that such should have been sufficient for him to accept it and my assertions that it would never happen again, and let life go merrily on as it had before, albeit with me being a loyal, faithful spouse. My self centredness from back then shone through when I told him how angry I was at his refusal to let me come back, to recognize my love and supposed sorrow at that time, and to fight to keep us together. "Of course, how could you or why would you? If the roles had been reversed I would have thrown you out, and tried to keep you out of Jennifer's life. I didn't realize it then, but do now, and I am eternally grateful to you, for being strong and fighting for Jennifer to have two parents, despite what you so properly felt for me." It was clear that Bill was a bit shocked at how I'd overheard one of his partners talk about making love with him, and her negative comments about me and what a fool I was. Of course, I pointed out that I agreed with her assessment. When I indicated how hurt I was on hearing her, and that it nearly drove me to suicide, he did show real concern for me. At the same time, he smiled when I pointed out this was when it finally hit home that it wasn't about me only. I could see him nodding his head when I told him how thinking about Jennifer and what my actions would do to her made me pull back. Again, I saw a positive reaction when I pointed out that it was then I finally realized how I had been solely focused on myself and had forgotten the importance of those around me from the time I went back the second time to Jacques, and accepted that I had driven Bill away, and could not realistically expect him to come running back to me. I went on to tell him that I rededicated myself to being the best mother I could be under the circumstances, and focused on what would be the best for Jennifer. How I thought about what I could do to make her life better, and help her adjust to the circumstances that I had brought about by my loss of focus on what truly was important. Finally I indicated how I recognized finally that he'd been guiding his life like that, not only since my betrayal, but how he'd always focused on us as a unit. "You can't believe how happy it made me when you accepted that first Christmas invitation, mostly because of it was clear that it made it more special for Jennifer, but also because you didn't have to be alone, that you could share something else for Jennifer, which was good for you, and for Jennifer. I shed a lot of tears when you'd left and Jennifer was asleep, realizing that if I'd only paid attention to what had been really important back then, and not got lost in my own selfish world, that I wouldn't have had to work to make Christmas special, for it always had been a special family time for us. The sad thing is you don't realize how good you have it, until you lose it." "Why did I lose my focus, forget how important you were, how important our love was, for each other and our daughter? If only I could point to a simple answer, it would be so much easier, but I can't. Thank god you reciprocated and included me in things for the good of Jennifer, but in reality, I can't say I'm surprised, because that's who you are, and always have been. It's hard to admit, or maybe hard to believe, but I used to be like that, before.....while you know." "Bill, I'm not asking you to forgive me, and I know you'll never forget what I did, after all, I'll never forget it, but it's time to move forward. I appreciate the fact that we can share things together, for Jennifer. At times, it allows me to forget for just a little while, that we aren't a family anymore, and to bask in the feeling of family." "I hope I haven't opened up to many old wounds, but I felt I had to get it out, I know I can't really explain things, after all, there is no explanation I can make that makes any sense, and there is nothing that will ever excuse what I did. But I had to try and apologize to you, and hopefully convince you to that somehow, despite how things look, that I never really stopped loving you. I'll live forever with the knowledge that I destroyed your love for me, almost destroyed not only my husband, but the best friend I've ever had in the world, or ever will." "What ever emotion I felt when I knew you slept with somebody after our divorce can only pale in comparison to what you must have felt. I can't even begin to imagine what you truly went through, because of me, finding out about me cheating, walking in on me..... All I know is that there is nothing I can do to make it better, to make it go away, and knowing that I caused it is something that will haunt me til the day I die." "One thing my counselor did was play the devils advocate, getting me to see how I would have felt if you had been leaving clues lying around suggesting you were cheating on me, or how I would have felt if I had walked in on you and some other woman. He pushed me on those, making me feel it was real, and when I did I was livid. I wanted to kill you, to castrate you and to take Jennifer away, and never let her see you again." "And it made me feel pain, but mine was over an imaginary indiscretion, and not the real one you faced. And it made me realize that you were better than me, maybe you wanted to do some of those things, but other than cutting me out of your life as your spouse, you didn't act to hurt me." "It allowed me to imagine the hurt you truly felt and it shocked me to realize that I was the one who had caused the hurt. But you notice I said 'imagine' the hurt, and that's all I can do, because the reality of what I put you through, of what I caused, had to far exceed what I could imagine." "Yes, I am jealous of those women that you have slept with, but the pain I feel is self directed, because I know if not for my actions, you wouldn't be making love to them." "To see what you've done, the person you still are both fills me with pride, and regret. I know things haven't been easy for you, but you have always acted with dignity, and commitment. You never bad mouthed me to Jennifer, to friends or family, and you had every right to. Yes you ignored me at times when I approached you, but looking back, I can't blame you, instead I admire that you didn't shout or scream at me, or physically hurt me, though you had every right to. And for that, I'm so proud of how despite everything, you stayed true to yourself, to the person I fell in love with. And I feel regret, because I caused you the hurt you had to overcome, that I didn't get to share things with you, or have your company or love, all because of me." "By the way, you noticed my comments about not bad mouthing me to family, it took a while but I told my family about what I did, and that everything was my fault. I've also told them that I better never hear them bad mouthing you, and what a good father you were." "I'm not asking you to take me back, after all, how could you after what I did to you. But I hope you will take everything I said for what it's worth, and I truly thank you for letting me get it off my chest. I've owed you an apology for a long time, I'm just sorry it's so long overdue. And maybe, just maybe, we can be friends again. " With that, the tears finally came pouring out of me, forcing me to stop. Bill, to his credit came forward, and for the first time in years, I felt his arms go around me, letting me sob, comforting me until I finally came back under control. "Sarah, I know this hasn't been easy for you, or me for that matter, but you were right, this was something that needed to be done. I won't say that this talk was overdue, after all, I don't think either of us was ready until now. There are a lot of things I want to say to, but right now I'm a bit overwhelmed, and need to think. It's about time we started talking, but I want to reflect on what I say before I just spit it out, after all, I'm pretty sure that you gave this a lot of thought beforehand. How about we leave things be for tonight, and get together again in a couple days, and continue?" Best of Both Worlds Ch. 08 I quickly agreed and after a bit more small talk about Jennifer, and making plans to get together two days later, Bill headed home. After he left I did shed a number of tears, but at the same time, I had a feeling of great relief, I knew I couldn't turn the clock back, but at least, I could finally let it go forward. ------------------------------------------ It was almost funny, but after Bill went home that night, a feeling of peace and contentment fell over me. I knew there was no way I could go back and get a do-over, and I didn't expect Bill to lift me off my feet and carry me into the future. No, I'd screwed up, and I was paying the price. It didn't stop me from loving him, nor wanting to make things as good as possible for Jennifer, I just felt that finally, I had done the right thing. I appreciated the fact that Bill hadn't walked out, though it was obvious that listening to me wasn't the easiest thing in the world for him to do. Unfortunately I knew that I probably had reopened some old wounds, or pulled the scabs off some slow healing ones, but hopefully it brought him some of the closure I felt. In fact it was the possibility that he would walk out that terrified me the most. Maybe it was just me being selfish again, but I needed to tell him, to get it off my chest, to have him listen to me, to understand that I accepted full responsibility, and to be honest, to hopefully understand that no matter what, I had never stopped loving him. But all I could do now was to wait. Clearly I had dumped a lot on Bill and he was entitled to all the time he needed to respond. In fact, I was ecstatic that he even wanted to respond, though at the same time there was some anxiousness as to the form his response would take. Even the possibility that he would react badly and revert to the icy cold that had permeated our interaction after he threw me out didn't detract from the feelings of peace I finally felt. It had taken a lot of time, but I realized that in order to move forward, I had to own up and accept the blame for everything. Hopefully by doing so, I finally could live with myself. Even if everything stayed the same as it was, I would still be happy, and ready to continue on doing what I could to make my daughter's life as happy as possible, and let her see a positive interaction between her parents. On the other hand, any improvement in my relationship with Bill would be more than I could ever hope for. Best of Both Worlds Ch. 09 It was about a week after Jennifer's birthday when Sarah phoned me, which in itself was still a rather rare occurrence, indicating she would like to meet just with me to talk about a number of things she felt were important, but not revealing what they were. Considering the fact that this would be the first time that we had met alone, without Jennifer being in the vicinity since day after I'd walked in on her and Jacques, I somewhat hesitantly agreed to meet her the next evening at her apartment. I can't say I knew what to expect, or how I'd react if it was what I thought it would be, but I knew that it might be an important step in allowing us to continue to move forward. Still, I couldn't help but think about what might be discussed, and what my true feelings were. After reflecting on my love life following Sarah's betrayal, I remembered that my not so sweet trip down memory lane had been started by Jennifer's comment about being a family again, and the realization that I had just shared a pleasant evening with Jennifer and Sarah. As various thoughts rumbled through the deep dark recesses of my mind, it occurred to me that my feelings about Sarah had changed over the past years, from hatred to just bitterness, from bitterness to indifference, to a form of tolerance, or acceptance, though if pressed, I couldn't say when this had occurred. The moment my overwhelming love had turned to hatred was easily defined, but the other changes were not. Clearly in the immediate aftermath of the sudden separation, while I was busy plotting my revenge against Jacques, I was still filled with hate, hatred for Sarah and how she had destroyed my love, and hatred for what she had done. Looking back, I now realized that this hatred had been reduced to bitterness, I'm not sure when, but likely by the time of my early dating. I realized my thoughts were more a sad reflective about everything I'd lost, than filled with hate for Sarah. There was also indifference, as to what she may or may not think if she knew what I was doing. I had to admit I'd been floored when Sarah invited me to join her and Jennifer for that Christmas. Looking back I realized that if the full feelings of hate had still existed, I would have rejected her quickly, and cruelly. As it was, I'd waited a couple of days to respond, allowing me to make a proper, and hopefully thought out response. It was because of Jennifer that I'd accepted, together with the fact that I dreaded the thought of being alone at Christmas. In addition, the knowledge that Sarah was for once, thinking about our daughter and her happiness, and not her own personal pleasure, drove me to accept. Until that day, I'd kept contact with Sarah to a minimum. Since I wasn't there when she was with Jennifer, I wasn't sure how things were with them, how Sarah behaved, though when Jennifer came home, it was obvious she'd enjoyed being with her mother. At the same time, it was clear she was sad about our family situation. Christmas was therefore the first time I'd a real opportunity to watch them interact with each other, and I must say that I was pleased at the effort Sarah made. For once she reminded me of the mother I remembered from before, and not the selfish home wrecker she had become. We hadn't become regular companions, or friends for that matter, though Jennifer and I started to invite her to sit with us if we were at a school or team function. It was clear to me that Jennifer enjoyed having us there together, and after all, they were functions for Jennifer, so if sitting with Sarah would bring my daughter some comfort, I was more than happy to do it. Looking back, I know that it wouldn't have been possible for me to sit with her in the months immediately following our break up, despite my resolve to be polite when Jennifer was present. Forcing me to acknowledge her in public for an extended period would have been more than I could have handled. Gradually over time we progressed to exchanging invitations to share in important events for Jennifer, Christmas, Thanksgiving and like earlier this evening, birthdays. While conversation that first Christmas wasn't easy, gradually it got to where we could discuss the world at large, general things about our life, though nothing about our personal life, and anything about Jennifer fairly comfortably. -------------------------------------------- I'd thought that I'd done a lot of thinking after Jennifer's comment about being a family and our first meeting, but it was nothing compared to what went through my mind following that evening at Sarah's. The passage of time had helped to some extent, but the wounds were still there, and I won't suggest that I didn't feel any pain as Sarah told her story. But at the same time, the pain while sharp, was significantly duller than it had been not all that long ago. Like Sarah, there was no way that I would ever get the image from the moment of discovery out of my memory bank, no matter how much I would love to. It was unfortunately, one of those moments that would be forever burned into my mind. Yet, I couldn't help but appreciate much of what she said, maybe not the content, okay definitely not a lot of the content, but the meaning, the feeling behind it. There were still a number of unanswered questions, in particular the why, but I accepted the fact that Sarah herself could not now, nor perhaps ever answer it herself. Her statement that it was almost like she went under Jacques spell was on one hand utter nonsense, but clearly the bastard had some magnetism, after all, look at all the other married women who were captivated by and succumbed to his charms. But it wasn't an excuse, and thankfully Sarah had made that comment in passing only. Still, was it enough for me to forgive her for her actions? Maybe if Sarah had not gone back that second time I could have. And like it or not, I accepted her reasoning that she was trying to prove it to herself that the first time was some strange aberration, after all, that would be just like her. But she did give in the second time, and again and again and again, and I would never forget that. Could I forgive her, or more importantly, should I forgive her? Yet the Sarah who spoke about finally coming to grips with reality, the reality of what she'd done to us, and through it herself, and committing to do whatever she could to help Jennifer grow up, was a lot like the Sarah I had loved for so long. I accepted that she finally realized the impact of what she had done, accepted her guilt, and her place away from home arising from her action. At the same time, I couldn't help but note that she'd acted in the best interests of Jennifer, and by doing so, had also acted to benefit me, whether knowingly or not. After all, by improving Jennifer's adjustment and lifestyle, I benefited greatly, after all, a happier contented daughter made life easier for me. I accepted how hard it was for her to invite me to share that Christmas with her and Jennifer, especially after the times I'd so rudely ignored her. Somehow, looking back, I had realized that she was different than the person I'd tried to avoid those first months after our separation and divorce. Had she invited me over during those months, I would have suspected it was all a ploy to gain sympathy. I admit I was concerned about her motives when she did ask, but quickly relaxed when I observed her with Jennifer. Throughout the next couple days various thoughts kept running through my mind, happy memories about growing up with and falling in love with Sarah, most of our life together and the joy of having our daughter. At the same time, there were bitter thoughts to, my suspicions, finding out from the investigator, and of course, that final blow of walking in on her in the act, and confused thoughts about what I wanted, what my future would be, and uncertain thoughts, again about the future. It was these confused thoughts about what I wanted, for me, for Jennifer and the future that occupied most of my time. At the same time I had to try and figure out my own true feelings. For the first time in a long time, I encountered sleepless nights, as I tried to come to grips with what I needed to do. While I realized that it may be easier to continue to procrastinate and not come to a decision, I knew it was time, time to sit down again. This time I picked Sarah up, suggesting we go for a walk, largely because I believed that it would be easier for me to follow my thought process, then if I was just sitting there, in part as well with the hope that being out, at least to a degree in public, may help both of us control our emotions. "Sarah, I sat and listened to you the other day, and now it's my turn. While it wasn't easy listening, I can honestly say I know it wasn't any easier for you. But I can understand how it was necessary for you to get it out the other day, and, well, I guess it's necessary for me to say my piece as well. Unfortunately, this can't but help to reopen some wounds, but it can't be helped, and I'm not doing it on purpose. And maybe, we can finally get that healing we both deserve, and need." I started off by talking about the before, about how I fell in love with her, how special she was to me, how truly in love I was with her, how I valued her friendship. I pointed out that the most special moment in my life was when she gave birth to Jennifer, the moment I held that bundle of joy we had created. Yes, I acknowledged that things weren't perfect, we'd had our disagreements, though surprisingly few, and until then, not serious. I reminded her how special the making up was, on those few occasions when we fought. "It wasn't a perfect marriage, after all, perfect doesn't exist, but I truly thought we had something special." "Our friends often referred to the fact that it was us together, not you, and not me, at least that's how they saw us doing things. Maybe that's one reason why you doing this, doing it for 'you' took me so much by surprise. It seemed so out of character for the Sarah I knew, or thought I did, the Sarah I'd fallen in love with." "And your right, I don't think you could ever really understand the depth of the hurt, the pain you put me through. Finding you with him was only the icing on the cake, the slow realization as the evidence made it clear what you were doing was already eating me up, almost pushing me over the edge. But still nothing can compare with the feelings I felt that day, feeling that my life had ended. Part of me wanted to hurt you, and castrate that asshole, but thankfully I was in such a state of shock that I couldn't react that day." "You were not only my life, the love of my life, but you were my best friend, or so I thought. And maybe that's why it hurt so much, you never expect your best friend to stab each you in the back, or to rip your guts out." I went on to describe for her the hell I went through, pointing out that I wasn't doing so to add to her hurt, but to explain what my life was like. Sarah was shocked when I talked about those nights I drank myself to sleep, after all she knew how I didn't like getting drunk, or to see others like that. I talked as well about Jennifer, and how I knew I had to get my life under control so to protect her best interests. Sarah did get pale when I talked about going out with other women, finally getting anal sex, but perked up when I explained that while physically satisfying, these encounters had been emotionally lacking. "I'm not telling you about this to spite you, but merely telling you what my life was like, the ups, the downs, just like you told me about what you went through." I went on to tell her how there was no doubt I hated her at first, but that somehow that hate had diminished by the time she extended that Christmas invitation. Explaining my changing feelings took some time, but I made it clear that it was seeing her interact with Jennifer that made me realize that some of the Sarah I'd fallen in love with still existed. "It's easy to look back and realize that some of our passion had ebbed over the years, but I thought that our sex life was great, all that I could want. I never thought about cheating on you. Sure, like every other guy I'd notice a good looking gal, mentally undress her and think about fucking her, but that's all it was, a fantasy that I'd never follow up on. And I never dreamed about making love to them. At the same time, I probably took you for granted from time to time. But I never stopped loving you, after all, you and Jennifer were always the most important thing in my life." "Like you, I've done a lot of thinking since Jennifer's birthday, and it's finally hit me. I still do have feelings for you, though right now I'm not sure exactly what they are. Obviously I've always had feelings for you, or I wouldn't have felt the hatred. Watching you and Jennifer this last while, has helped rebuild some of the respect for you that I'd lost. Trust is another issue, do I trust you, could I trust you. If it was about Jennifer, yes, if it's about us, I don't know." After a moment of silence I went on, "I appreciate the fact that you weren't begging for forgiveness, but merely apologizing, telling the truth. And I thank you for that. I still wish that you could explain why, but I accept that you can't explain it to yourself, much less me. But if you ever do, please tell me." "I now realize that you also felt pain, the pain of realizing what you did, and the pain of facing the consequences after that. And I know that it wasn't easy. And I understand now what you did to try and deal with it." "So where do I go, or we go. Well, firstly, I accept your apology, and the sincerity with which you gave it. I fully believe your regret and remorse over what you did, and what you caused, and if you could get a do-over, it would never happen." "But at the same time, I don't think I can say that I forgive you. To me, saying I forgive you would mean what you did was okay, and I don't think I could ever do that. And clearly, neither of us will ever forget it, as much as we might like to. So no, at least now, I can't give you that absolution." It was easy to see the reaction in Sarah as I said that, after all the tears in the corner of her eyes were a dead giveaway. As she started to interject I cut her off quickly, saying "But before you get too upset, let me also say that while I can't forgive you right now, the memory doesn't hurt as much anymore." "I can truthfully say that it doesn't occupy my every waking moment, and the pain isn't as sharp any more, but the memory will always be their....I don't know, maybe I should say I forgive you, but I'm sorry, I can't. But at the same time, I do accept the apology, and it means a lot to me to say that. I couldn't have done it a few years ago, so like you, I guess I've grown a lot." "It's taken me a long time to get here. I remember somebody talking to my friends about a colleague who new his wife was screwing around, and did nothing about it. We all agreed he was a wimp. I must admit, I've done a lot of thinking about that comment the last few days." "Yes, people probably would have been right to call me a wimp, a fool, or worse if I'd done nothing back then. Not only would I have lost their respect, but I would have lost mine. In thinking about things, I realize that my personal happiness is of most importance. After I found out for sure, there was no way I could have been happy by staying with you. But a lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then." "Now I have to ask myself what would make me happy today. I've enjoyed the women I've been with, but none have made me happy. I know that I was happy with you before, but I don't know if I can be again. But even the fact that I'm thinking about it shows that I am looking ahead. Maybe I never will be able to overcome what happened, but if we don't try, I'll never know. And if I don't try and do what's best for me, I'll be as big a wimp or coward as I would have if I'd done nothing in the first place. "And that begs the question, where do we go from here. We have a child, and she is something we will always share. We both still have feelings for each other, even if mine are a bit fragile right now, and we both, or at least I, still have issues." At that point Sarah interrupted and acknowledged that she did to. "Trust and fear are big ones for me, can I trust you, do I want to risk getting hurt again. Should I risk anything?" I could see that Sarah was on the verge of tears, so I plunged ahead. "I know you weren't asking me to take you back, to get back together. But for the first time in a long time, I realized that maybe it isn't totally over." "I'm not ready to get back together, and maybe I never will be, but...maybe we should try getting to know each other again. I know we can't ever go back, but maybe somehow we can try and move forward. Maybe it's not possible, that too much has gone on, maybe that memory of that day will be too much to overcome." "My feelings for you still exist, but I don't really know what they are. At this time I'd say that love is too strong a word to describe them, but I do have them. I have to admit that some of what I've seen lately impresses me. I appreciate what you've done for Jennifer, and for me as well. Maybe all we'll be is friends, who share a child, and if that's all it is, it's still a step up from the last few years. And maybe that's all you'll ever want, after all, a lot of water has gone under my bridge too." "But maybe, if you're willing, we can try and get to know each other again. No promises, after all a lot of time has passed. I think I can safely say that both have us have changed a lot. Thinking about it, what you said, and what I've seen, its easy to see that you have changed, and it appears, at least from the time we separated, a lot of it is for the better." "Obviously I've changed to, and maybe some of it isn't for the better. Unfortunately I'm not as trusting, but at the same time I'm more independent, set in my ways. And clearly you have become more independent as well. I like much of what I see, but obviously there is more to you than what I see when we get together." "When we first got together, we already knew who each other was, we were friends first, and more after. I'd like to see if we can become friends again, maybe that's all there will be, maybe not. Time will tell" We continued to walk along, though both of us talking, rather than just her listening to my rant. In some ways saying we both walked along is almost an exaggeration, I think Sarah was almost floating. She did shed tears as she told me that this was more than she ever hoped for, another chance. And she agreed that whatever happened, we needed to go slow, to get to know each other again, and to decide together, if there was a future together in being more than just Jennifer's parents. We both agreed that if nothing else, we could share a friendship, though how deep or strong it would be waited to be seen. As I headed home I realized that I felt more content than I had in years, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, that a sad story chapter in my life had finally received the necessary degree of closure. There will one final chapter to this story, which hopefully will be out soon.