84 comments/ 63925 views/ 22 favorites Irvin and Isabel Davis By: Matt Moreau "I don't know, Minnie, it's just so damnably frustrating," said Isabel. "Izzy, count your blessings. Your last husband, Hollis Cort, beat you up—regularly!—and that the whole one and a half years you were married to the asshole," said Minnie. "The way I see it, you've got no gripe. So what if Irv is kind of a pussy. He works, pays the bills, and treats you pretty good as far as John and I can see." "Yes, he pays the bills—barely. But, he's been passed over for promotion at least three times that I know of because he refuses to do what he has to do to get one, a promotion that is, and he could get one. Keeps saying he's going to but never does. Hell, I make as much working for MacDonald's as he does selling software for Ritter. The good news is that I do get to keep my money or most of it since he does in fact pay the bills. So yes, okay, you're right, I guess I shouldn't complain too loudly, at least not for the time being," said Isabel, but plaintively. "Izzzzyyyyy, are you saying what I think you're saying?" said Minnie. "You're not thinking of divorcing that good man for that part time lover of yours are you? I mean mister big shot who isn't a big shot but thinks he is that is to say? "Let me ask you. How long has it been since you and Irv have done the deed?" said Minnie. Isabel Davis nee Porter, had the decency to look as guilty as she felt. "A while, I guess," said Izzy. "A while? How long is a while?" said Minnie. "A couple of months maybe; I don't exactly keep a journal you know," said Isabel. Her friend had fire in her eyes. "You idiot!" said Minnie. "A man can't go months without getting any. A man, any man, needs it pretty nearly all of the time. You've only been married for what—four years?" "Yes, about that. Four years next month," said Izzy. "Yeah, I know, I was your maid of honor. So what? You plan to let him have you as an anniversary present! I'll say it again, you're an idiot!" said Minnie. "No, it's not like that," said Isabel. "Oh, then what's it like? Let me see, you've been denying him the undeniable. You hold him in contempt. You've got a lover on the side. So, yes, tell me, what's it like?" "Oh I don't know! Frankly, he just doesn't turn me on anymore. I mean he's a good guy in some ways. And, yes, I do feel guilty keeping Hardin Karpis on the side. And I do feel guilty having to fake pleasure when Irv and I do do it. But . . ." "But nothing. You need to get your act together, baby doll. You need to fuck your husband tonight, and he better not get the idea that you're faking it. If you don't get your act together muy pronto, girl, you're going to lose that man. And, I can guarantee your skinny pink ass that somebody else will be picking him up not all that long thereafter!" said Minnie. Her friend sighed. "I suppose you're right, Minnie. I guess that I, he and I, have just been kinda goin' through the motions these past months. Anyway, I'll be thinking about what you said. He does deserve better I suppose. If he just wasn't such a wimp! He needs to man up, and be the guy I know he can be or thought he could be—or—or something," said Isabel. "Yeah right! Listen girlfriend, you're the woman. It's your job to train the guy. So do so!" said Minnie. Her friend nodded, but it was a nod of resignation. ****** I took a deep breath. She was in the kitchen. I'd finally decided to lay it on her. I knew she would probably be mad at me. I hung up my coat and set my briefcase down on the coffee table. I headed into Dante's Inferno. "Hi hon," she said. "How was work?" Her good mood stopped me. "Uh—good. Sold some stuff. So, good. How was your day?" I said, following her lead. "Also, good. Got off at noon. Minnie came by, and we gossiped a while," she said. "All nasty and graphic stuff, I hope," I said, now in a good mood myself and pushing it. She snickered. "Yes, all nasty and graphic. Minnie did say that I need to fuck you more, says I've been neglecting you," said my wife. My look got a smirk from her. "Really? I knew I liked that woman," I said. "Yes, well tonight I'm going to drain your ball sack and leave your penis begging for mercy. Seem like something you could get into?" She said. "Uh—yeah—I can go for that—get into it," I said, "no problem at all." Dinner was good and mostly on the quiet side. Dishes done and dried—I did the drying—we stood and kinda stared at each other. She smiled. "Well," she said. I went to her and kissed her gently on the lips. "Let's go into the living room. I want to take you on the couch," I said, not quite rubbing my palms together. She smiled yet again and did as I asked. I led her to the couch and knelt in front of her as she remained standing. I let my hand reach around behind her and cup her buttocks. I pulled her, still dressed in her skirt and blouse, to me and sniffed at the depression where her mound lay still hidden from view. I heard her stifle a giggle. I lifted her skirt and saw that her white panties were damp in front. I kissed them and inserted my thumbs into their waistline. I eased them down to her ankles. She stepped out of them kicking off the black flats she'd been wearing in the process. I stood and turned her around. I leaned into her pressing the hardness of my cock against the fabric of her skirt. I coaxed her to a kneeling position on the couch and dropped my pants and underpants kicking them and my shoes off and to the side. My cock stuck straight out from me threatening to spear her from behind. I lifted her skirt and flipped it up onto her back. "Spread wide for me, honey," I said. She did and arched her back inviting my invasion of her pussy. I knelt once more, but this time behind her exposed slit. I sniffed her woman scent. I licked and kissed her pussy and her anus. I sucked on her clit my nose rubbing against her sphincter and was rewarded with mooing sounds that I was sure were genuine. As to that, I had in recent times suspected her of faking interest when we did do it, but I was pretty sure, that for the moment, her interest was the real McCoy. I stood and slid into her. God, she felt wonderful. I drilled her for some minutes doing my damnedest to not cum too soon. I wanted more than anything for her to make it. I felt her stiffen and shudder; she had made it. I was sure of it. I began ramming her for all I was worth trying to bring her off a second time as I unloaded inside of her. I sagged forward across her back as she in turn sagged onto the cushions of the couch. I'd unloaded a goodly cum into her. Her? No, she hadn't made it the second time. I let myself roll off to the side, legs splayed obscenely I was sure, but caring not a whit. "Was it good for you, hon?" she said. I turned to her. There was something odd about her tone. I was sure she'd made it once, but . . . "Yes, Of course," I said. "You?" "The best," she said. "We'll be doing this more often. No more neglecting you. I promise." Something was wrong. She was—something—too businesslike maybe. Kinda like a prostitute that, having done what she'd been paid to do, turned her attention, her focus, to other things, like needing to get ready for the next client. Me? I was barely getting my breath back. It was clear, in any event, that she wasn't thinking about how it was for her, no, she was concerned about me. She was bored, but at least mildly concerned about me! I was now remembering what I had determined to do before I got home when she'd short shanked me with her offer of sex and goodwill. Why had she been in such a good and giving mood? Maybe it really was because of something Minnie Fowler had said to her earlier in the day. Well, we'd be talking now for sure, but not tonight. Tomorrow we would do the sit down thing. For the moment I was going to have to pretend that everything was peachy, I was too tired to be an effective inquisitor, but tomorrow, tomorrow would be the day. ****** Oatmeal again, well it was good for the waistline, or so she regularly assured me. I sat with my coffee across from her. It was Thursday, her day off from Mac's. She seemed in a good mood; no doubt feeling good about successfully fulfilling her "duty." I had to think that her feeling so might be short lived. This time there would be no dodging the subject. I wanted to know what was going on, and I wanted to be more than sure that whatever it was, was history. "Feel good this morning, honey?" she said, setting her cup down in front of her. I took a sip of my coffee. "Hmm, I guess we'll know about that shortly," I said, at last. "Hmm?" she said, still smiling. "Last night. It was great for me. I mean 'if' it was for you too?" I said, clarifying things. "Well of course it was good for me," she said. She forced a smile that was so phony, I couldn't help it, I laughed. "What?" she said. "You didn't cum did you, I mean even the first time. It wasn't all that good for you was it; really. You didn't even enjoy it, doing it with me, did you?' I said. Her expression suddenly morphed from pseudo-smiley to serious. "Irv . . ." "What's going on, Izzy? What's going on! Until last night we hadn't done it in almost three months. And last night, well, it was like you realized how long it had been and decided to maybe, what, make amends, do your duty. Right? "Minnie really did advise you to fix things between us didn't she? Please, the straight of it. Whaddya say?" She dropped back into her seat. She almost seemed relieved. Yes, relieved, relieved that I'd caught her. "Irvin Davis . . ." she started, but then stopped for a long moment. "Yes, Minnie and I talked about you. You know like I told you yesterday." "Yes?" I said. "Irv, I have a confession make. Actually more than one, and you need to shut up and listen. I have to get it all out in one go, and it isn't going to be easy for me. Okay?" she said. "If it's that bad, maybe you should rethink your decision to tell me," I said. "No, gotta get it out. Gotta," she said. "It's time." I nodded. "Okay, it's your—our funeral—I guess," I said. She grimaced at my words. "Irv, Minnie was here yesterday, as I told you, and she did advise me to do you right last night. I decided to take her advice, and for the record, I'm glad that I did. You deserved it and a helluva lot more of it besides. But, that said, Irv, I have a big problem with the way you've turned out to be these past almost four years. You're a wimp Irv, a candyass of heroic proportions. You're smart, but you have no get up and go." I could feel my face cloud over. "That it," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Almost. Irv, I'm going to tell you something that will undoubtedly hurt you. Can't be helped. But, I will no longer hide anything you. You deserve better than that. Hell yes, you do. "Irv, I have a lover. His name, if it matters, is Hardin Karpis. He's a good guy. I don't love him, but he does fill a need I cannot deny. I'm going to keep on seeing him. If you want to stay married to me; well, I will be thrilled to death. But if not, Irv . . ." "It's the highway for me. That about it?" I said. "Yes," she said. I nodded. "Well, at least I got one last good piece of ass before you fucked me over. I'm figurin' it might be a while before I get another. So I thank you for that!" I said. "Irv, really, Hardin does not have to be a reason for you and me to end it. Think it over before you do anything rash, please," she said. "No, I'm already gone. You're working 5:00AM to 1:00PM tomorrow, right?" I said. 'Yes, but what does that . . ." she started. "I'll be leaving in a few minutes. I'll be shacking up at a motel someplace for the night. But, I will be back tomorrow morning to get my stuff while you're at work. Please don't change your schedule and be here. I couldn't handle that. Really. Okay?" I said. She nodded, I think she was starting to cry. But, hell, so was I. "I hope this friend of yours is worth it." And I did pack an overnight bag and I did leave in less than fifteen minutes and I was brokenhearted and so was she; and then, I began the "climb" into the absolute heights of rock bottom—and so what if that is a non sequitur. Neither of us had any close family. A few distant relatives here and there, but no one to notify or to be concerned about in terms of our divorce. It had been part of the reason, I suppose, that we'd gotten together and done the matrimony thing in the first place: we needed each other, we had no one else. And even that, the marriage ceremony, had been in front of the justice of the piece with Minnie and John Fowler standing in as witnesses. And, now we were done. ****** It occurs to me that I have said little of our situation or described us at all. I'm Irvin Davis, my friends call me Irv. Isabel, Izzy, Davis is my soon to be ex-wife. Izzy is pretty; tall, at five-eight; slender as a willow branch; great butt; and A-cups that give her, along with the rest of the package, the look of a teenager. Her hair, by the way, is brown and of medium length. Me? I'm okay looking, I guess. Height-wise, same as my wife at five-eight, but medium build, and definitely A-cups, no tits at all really. Hair, brown like hers and still with me. We are both twenty-eight years-old, no kids, a nice little two bedroom apartment, and two three year-old cars—both Chevys if it matters; but mine's a Silverado hers an Impala. I work as a software salesman at Ritter Inc. Average maybe 31K annual. She's an assistant manager at MacDonald's. Earns right at 28K annual. And that, for what it's worth, is pretty much us on the eve of our divorce. ****** "I don't know, John. She's kinda fed up with this lackadaisical way of living and working. They're doing okay financially, if not wonderfully, but Izzy wants more. And, I'm not even sure that's right. But, I am sure that she wants more effort from her hubby, her otherwise soon to be ex-hubby," said Minnie. "Wow, that's a shame. I really thought that they'd grow old together. I guess one never knows about these things. "So you'd advised her to do what, exactly," said John. "To do him and to do him right and that immediately. I think she will, but I'm not sure her heart's really in it," said Minnie. "Well, one can hope, I guess," said John. "You know, I could talk to him if you think it might do any good." She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess you might if the opportunity presents itself and making sure it doesn't appear that we are trying to interfere in their personal lives. "Okay, if an opportunity presents itself," he said. ****** The Price-wise Motel was a "wise" choice for me: cheap and close to work. I would be able to walk to work in good weather which would be good. In my current emotional state driving would be at best ill advised. Four years of mostly happy times. Well, except that the last year and a half, as I now realized, had been increasingly downhill as far as our sexual relationship was concerned. I had to believe that her extracurricular relationship with this Karpis guy was the reason for that, but who knew for sure. Well that, and except for the fact that she clearly thought me a wimp, I could not really guess why she was so down on me, but then again, apart from her thing with him. But, maybe that was enough by and in itself. I felt empty and alone and needed someone—really her—to be with me. Thinking about it all now, I wondered if I would not have been better off accepting her offer and becoming her knowing and willing cuckold. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. But, no, I would have been torn up inside knowing she was out doing him on any particular evening. I'd been bothered enough wondering why she had become so distant from me as it was. But knowing she was fucking someone else, and probably talking smack about me behind my back, no, that would have been even worse than what I was going through now. I had to get my act together, and do something about being a better man, more of a man; Clearly, my Izzy didn't think me one or not much of one. But how to do it? Hell I didn't know. We'd had no children, Izzy and I. We had talked about having them, but in the end Izzy had been of the opinion that it would be best to wait until we were better off financially though as for me I thought we'd been doing well enough; but, it was what it was, and completely moot in view of our current situation. ****** "You're working kinda late tonight, Irv," said Annie. Annie Campbell was our common girl Friday. That is the sales force's aide and secretary; there were six of us under her wing. "Yeah, kinda behind on my paperwork. You'll be getting it tomorrow, hopefully," I said. "Hmm, yes. You okay? You look a little down," she said. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking," I said. I turned back to the computer I'd been pounding away on hoping she wouldn't ask any more questions. I knew for a fact that I would breakup if she did. I got my hope, my wish. She headed back to her station to finish up whatever she'd been working on. I looked up at the clock. It was 5:40. I'd always gotten off at 5:00. It had occurred to me that I was usually among the first to leave; today I was already the last. It had been six days since my break up with Izzy. I'd left work as usual the following Monday. Tuesday I'd stayed a half our off the clock. Today—Wednesday—I figured to be headin' out after 7:00. Work, I had discovered, was cathartic. Yes, being at work was cathartic. Work kept my mind on things other than my lost love. Yes work was a catharsis, but unfortunately my work production was not much catharticized; I was behind big time; bonuses would likely not be forthcoming. ****** "So you gave him what he very obviously needed, but it blew up in your face. Is that what you're saying?" said Minnie. "Yes—well—not exactly," said Isabel. "And that means . . .?" said Minnie. "Well, yes, it was what he needed, and it is what I gave him, but then I kinda outted myself," said Izzy. "Oh shit. Or, should I say no shit!" said Minnie. "But, I told him, assured him, double assured him that Hardin was no threat to him," said Isabel. "But?" said Minnie. "I did tell him I was going to keep on seeing Hardin, and well, Irv didn't take that too well," said Isabel. "Oh well, that's surprising as hell—not," said Minnie. "And he walked out on you, just because you were adamant about keeping your lover. Gee, how freakin' narrow minded of him." "Yes, frankly it was—is," said Isabel. Her friend nodded. "It's only the physical stuff with Hardin. Hell, Irv should have seen what I said as taking the pressure off of him. And, as I also intimated to him, my outing myself was going to result in him getting a helluva lot more attention too. He shoulda been cheering inside if not exactly showing me how happy he was that I was offering him a way for the both of us to be—if not exactly thrilled about things—at least satisfied. But oh no, he has to see it as some kind of threat to his insufferable male ego." "So what do you do now?" asked Minnie. "I don't know. If he were to come back, I guess I would try a little harder to get him to understand. I just don't know," said Isabel. "And if he doesn't come back?" said Minnie. Isabel shrugged. "Then, I guess we'll be getting a divorce," said Isabel. "It's his decision to make. Like I said, I let him know that I would be thrilled if he would commit to staying married to me. But, he opted to dump me instead." "No he didn't and you know it," said Minnie. "You made the decision to allow him but two options, neither of which were very appealing from a man's point of view," said Minnie. "I guess," said Isabel. "I did talk to John about you two. He's willing to talk to Irv if you want," said Minnie. Her friend shrugged. Irvin and Isabel Davis The two women started at the slamming of the back door. "Hi, you in there?" said the man. "Hardin! What are you doing here!" said Isabel. "Hah! You'd like to know the answer to that one wouldn't you," he said. "Hardin!" said Isabel. "I saw your husband checking into a motel across the street from the Hard Hat. I was playing some pool and having a couple of brews with Max Jethcote," he said. "You two have broken up haven't you?" "Maybe, not sure. But I can't believe you risked coming in here without so much as a how-do-you-do or a by-your-leave. You don't know; he could've been rethinking his decision to dump me even as you drove over here. So, you can't stay. You gotta get outta here right now," said Isabel. His smirk was evidence of his resolve to ignore her, at least for the moment. "What happened?" he said. "I outted myself. It's more complicated than that, but I do not have the time nor the inclination to discuss it right at this moment. Okay?" she said. "Oh and hi, Minnie," he said, as he moseyed over to the frig. "Got a beer in here, Izzy?" "Hardin, no, not for you. Those are Irv's beers, not yours. Get the heck outta here before . . ." "Before what," Izz," he said. "Before you find some other nine-incher to do you up right?" He snickered his contempt for her show of bossiness. He continued scanning the frig for his quarry. "There it is. I like your soon to be ex-husband's tastes," he said, pulling a PBR from its hiding place. "Take it and go," she said. "Call me tomorrow at work. But, now you gotta go. Okay?" she said. "Okay, okay. But if you outted yourself, I guarantee he will not be coming back tonight if he ever does. He's gotta be cryin' in his beer right about now about losing a piece as good as you. "Anyway, Izz, Minnie, see you all later," he said. He disappeared the way he'd come, taking a swig of the PBR as he went. "Kinda full of himself isn't he," said Minnie as the door closed behind the man. "There's no kinda about it, but unfortunately there just aren't all that many nine-inchers out there to choose from, so I grant him some latitude," said Isabel. "He gets latitude, and Irv gets ultimatums. Hmm, gotta say, you might be wantin' to reassess your priorities, girlfriend," said Minnie. Isabel sighed. "Yeah maybe," said Isabel. ****** I was sitting in Mac's, and no not my wife's venue. I liked the quarter pounders; well, I could afford them. I didn't notice him at first. But, he noticed me. "Hi yuh Irv," he said. "Mind if I sit with you for a few?" "John! No, of course not, have a seat," I said. "What brings you to this establishment dedicated to the more refined elements of Scottish cuisine?" He snickered. "Yeah, right," he said. "No not the food. I'm kinda on a mission of mercy." "A what?" I said. "Yeah, Minnie told me to come talk to you," he said. "Minnie? Huh?" I said. Then, I began to come around to his purpose. He could see I was on to him. "Yes, you got it. Minnie asked me to talk to you about the thing with your wife—and—her boyfriend," he said. "I don't know what you know, John, but she wants me to be okay with her fucking another man and that regularly. Some guy named Karpis," I said. "Yes, I know. Minnie thinks he's short term. Thinks you'd be over the top to dump your marriage over Isabel's playing. But, I gotta tell yuh, I think you're the one in the right here. Izzy is a great gal, but sometimes maybe, well, maybe not all that bright. Minnie thinks that if you hang in there that she'll come around and be properly remorseful for her crimes of a sexual nature," said John. "I don't know, John. I need a one man woman. Isabel isn't one of those. More's the pity," I said. "Yes, but you can't fight the evil dragon if you're not there to do the fighting. Anyway, I'm here to ask you to think about it and to not go off the deep end until you have," he said. "I'll think about it, John, but, it is more than doubtful that I can bring myself to sit at home while she is out on a date with the guy; even with, the promise that when she returns that I will be handsomely rewarded; I mean if you get my drift," I said. "I'll tell 'em, well, Minnie. And for the record I do know where you're coming from," he said. ****** The Hard Hat was pretty much just that: a hangout for the guys who worked in 'em, hard hats that is. It was just across the street from my motel room. It was where I had determined to spend my off hours ruminating over the disaster of my home life, my marriage. What I kept coming back to, remembering those final minutes of my marriage, was the dichotomy of the two streams of thought that my wife had presented me with. On the one hand, she had earnestly contended that she would be thrilled if I would stay with her, and accept her dalliances as little more than play. But, on the other hand, that if I could not see my way clear to accept her terms, that divorce would be the inevitable result. Logic would have seemed to dictate that a divorce, would have at least for her, have a result at least as thrilling as my acceptance of her cheating on me. Hence, follow up logic dictated that I get out of Dodge. And, so I have. Wonderful it is to be oh so fucking logical. But what wasn't so fucking wonderful was the indisputable fact that my logical choice had left me at least as miserable as I might have been had I stayed and been her willing cuckold. I had the feeling, the thought, that Isabel loved me on some level; but that, whatever it was that I really lacked, left her needing to fill a need, that I never had or even maybe could, fulfill. I was sick at heart, lonely like nobody ever was, and no longer gave give a rat's ass what happened to me. I just worked, and that not very well, and then worked some more. I guess what I was really doing was killing time waiting to die. For damn sure I had no life, none that mattered at any rate. ****** It was early, a little after 7:00PM announced the wall clock with the red and white label of Budweiser emblazoned across its face. I'd just arrived and commandeered my now usual seat at the end of the bar. "How yuh doin' there bub?" said Cody Williams, bartender extraordinaire, as he poured my second JD. I gave him my usual exasperated look. "Not as good as I will be after maybe my third or fourth one of these," I said. Cody smirked. "Yeah, well I can dig it," he said. "So you say your wife's got a boyfriend?" "Yeah, some guy named Karpis," I said. "Karpis? Hardin Karpis?" said Cody. "Yes," I said. I watched as Cody's eyes floated to his left eight or ten seats down the long bar. So that was my replacement. A couple of inches taller than me, but kind of paunchy. He was talking to some blond arguably ten years his junior. Looked like my replacement might be a player. I Pulled my cell phone and took a pic. I hoped it would turn out to be a good one. The blond moseyed away from his sexmanship. I had an idea, an inspired idea actually. I headed for the pillar where one slotted one's quarters to play songs on the computerized music machine. I'd gotten a couple of bucks' worth of quarters from Cody. I could play five songs. I chose two, and turned around to the man seated at the bar behind me, yeah, none other than Hardin Karpis who was watching me: that was my cue. "Got a favorite?" I said. He smiled. "Yeah, I do," he said. "Making Memories of Us," by Keith Urban. Well, I couldn't fault his taste in Country music. I punched in the numbers and added a couple more songs. They started to play. "Your taste and mine seem to be alike," I said, trying to get him into a conversation to see what I could learn. "That right," he said. "Well, Keith Urban, anyway. "Saw yuh talkin' to that pretty blonde a while ago. She your sister?" I said, laughing. "No, just a local prostie, goes by Carrie. Comes in here once in a while trolling," he said. "She may be a hooker, but she sure is a looker," I said, stating the obvious. "Yeah, she is I guess. But, got me a regular piece, don't need no pro," he said. "Wish I did," I said. "Well, some got it and some don't I suppose. I'm one of the have nots." He laughed. "You're not a bad lookin' guy, you'll find you a honey," he said. "Yeah, well, I hope so. I'd be satisfied with almost any woman so long as she wasn't married," I said. "No-no-no-no-no," he said. "Marrieds are the best. Usually they're just in it for the sex. No commitment and somebody else is payin' the bills. "My honey's married. Got a wimp for a hubby who has just lately left her because he couldn't deal with the fact that she was seeing me; she essentially told him to tolerate being her cuckold or to get out. He opted for out." "Really?" I said. "Yes. She'd pretty much cut him off these past few months anyway. He wasn't worth a shit in bed, or so the woman says," he said. "He edged close to me and whispered what I suppose he thought was a big assed secret. "The woman says his cock is about the size of an average man's pinkie—her words." I could feel my face cloud up. I'd been sick to my stomach before, but now I was even more so. "At any rate," continued my rival, "he 'was' paying her bills, but according to her, truth told, he barely made enough scratch to even do that. She said he was kind of a loser. Said she loved him, she thought, but kinda glad that he's now out of the picture. I'll be moving into her house in a few days. Hey, it's free and unrestricted 'pussy'," said mister Karpis. "Wow! You are a lucky stiff for sure," I said. I needed to get out of there before I started to out-and-out bawl. It was without doubt the worst day of my life: I'd discovered what my wife really thought of me and none of it was good. ****** Work became a chore after my education by mister Karpis. I mean it had always been a chore, but now it was more than I could handle, at least not easily. The good news, or, maybe it was bad news, was that it soon didn't matter—I was fired. "But, mister Marks . . ." "I'm sorry Irv. You've always been a dependable employee, but lately you've kinda disappeared from the radar, and at a time when I'm being forced by upper management to cut payroll. I can no longer afford to keep you on staff. "But . . ." I started. He held up his hand as if to say that there were no 'buts' that would make a difference. "I'm afraid you'll need to be out of the building by day's end, Irv. See Annie for your final check. I have included a letter of reference for you. I'm afraid that's that best I can do, Irv. Best of luck to you," he said. He nodded for me to leave and busied himself with paperwork of some kind. I guess he was kind of embarrassed to have to let me go. And as bad as the news was, I couldn't bring myself to hate the guy. Hell, I knew I hadn't been up to snuff since the breakup with my wife. And just like that, I was unemployed. I left his office on wobbly legs. This was bad. Not only had my wife screwed me over, not only had I no home, I now had no job. I guessed Isabel, my Isabel, had been right to dump on me. It sure looked like I was indeed the nothing she thought me, that as reported to me by mister Karpis. The rent on my little motel room, and yes, I was still hanging my hat at the Price-wise motel, for the next fifty-four days were paid: I'd paid for three months in advance so as to not have to deal with paying the rent every month. Hell, the room was cleaned daily, and utilities were included; except for my cell phone which service would soon be cancelled. At any rate, having paid my rent up in advance worked for me now because I would need a little time to get me another job, one I would not be taking for granted, no sirree; I told myself. And then it was day fifty-three and I still had no job. I was young, at 29, and not without some skills, or so I thought, but no one was hiring—at least not hiring me. And, then I was on the street with a wheeled suitcase packed with everything I owned of any consequence, mostly clothes and a few personal items. I'd probably need to be getting me a grocery cart pretty soon. Some might be inclined to ask why I hadn't fought harder for my—our—apartment and its accoutrements. Simple, I didn't make the bread to pay for the place and all of its expenses by myself on my own; and, for that matter neither did Isabel, no doubt the reason mister Karpis was being allowed to move in with her—well—one of the reasons anyway. That and the hurt I was feeling militated against me wanting to stay in the place alone with all of its memories, both good and bad. Adding to all of that, I was confused. There was no doubt Izzy was smarter than I was that contrary to what John Fowler had said. Hell, she was an assistant manager where she worked, probably going to be manager before long; then, she'd be making more money than me, well, than I had been, maybe 40K annual. I knew Mac's was a good company to work for in most respects. At any rate, when I left, I took only the things I'd be needing on a daily basis. The only thing extra I took was our wedding picture; she'd looked me askance, when I'd done that, but she'd not tried to stop me. Why that item when we were clearly done, as I saw things, as a couple? A no brainer, I still loved and needed her more than anything. Whatever, I was out on the street now, and I didn't much like it. I was able to eat free once a day at the downtown rescue mission, an area crowded with losers like me. And on really cold nights, and it was getting to be winter, I was allowed to sleep in a nearby covered truck park and kind of act as an unpaid security guard at the place—Allied Cargo. Actually there were two of us allowed to sleep there. Mister Hal Hensley, the boss at Allied had looked with a sympathetic eye on us. Alexander Barclay, a guy even more destitute than I was, was my compadre in poverty. We'd met at the mission and decided to be each the other's backup: the streets weren't the best, and certainly not the safest of places for indigents like us. And as bad as the days were, the nights were infinitely worse. All I could think of was Isabel and our toasty bed with us curled up tightly against each other. I missed her more than anything. But, that said, when I did dream about her, my thoughts were uniformly interrupted by the image of mister Karpis banging her with his huge sex engine and the two of them both laughing at me. Those thoughts hurt, a lot. "What you thinking about, Irv?" said Alex. "Same as always, her—and him," I said. My bud nodded. "I can dig it. Women! You can't trust 'em worth a damn," he said. My turn to nod. ****** "So he's two months behind in the rent on the place?" said Hardin. "Yes, I called his office and found out he didn't work there anymore. I guess he got a job somewhere else, but as to where—well—I just don't know. It's taking every dime I make to just keep the place now. And, being two months behind in the rent, well, I might have to get a second job just to get by," she said. "You need to divorce him and get on with things, Izzy. "But, anyway you and I made a deal: if he didn't keep up the payments I would; I mean since I live here now." "Let's go out and celebrate our new and upgraded situation," he said. "Let's," she said. "Evening, Cody," said Hardin. "This is Isabel my squeeze. Couple of red wines if yuh got 'em." "You too," said Cody. "Nice to meet you ma'am. And, Hardin, you know I've got 'em," said Cody, heading off down the bar to fill the order. "Good 'ole Irv never brought you here before?" said Hardin. "No, we didn't spend a lot of money going out, and if we did it was usually just to eat, hardly ever to drink or dance or anything like that," she said. "Well, now that you're my full time woman, and I'm payin' the rent; we will be doing stuff," he said. "Your full time woman am I?" she said. "Oh yeah, that sucker you were married to . . ." he started. "Still am married to," she said. "Yeah, I guess for now. But, he was crazy to move out. I mean leave a piece like you to graze in other pastures? Not real bright of him," said Hardin. The drinks arrived. "Start a tab," said Hardin. "We're going to be here a while." "Okay," said the barkeep. "No, Irv would never be described as being all that bright, not stupid, but well . . . a good guy in a loser sort of way," she said. The two of them laughed. Neither noticed the Bartender half listening to their exchanges. He knew that Irv had lost his job. He hadn't been in in a month because, as Cody knew, Irv was broke. He'd never met his wife until now, but he could see why he, Irv, was dispirited: she was a beauty. "Tell me again about him trying to get you off," said Hardin. He was trying not to laugh outright, and, succeeding to some extent. "He tries, he desperately tries. I'll give him that, but never has. I've told you that a hundred times," said Izzy. "His three and half inch dick just can't get the job done. I don't blame him for that. It's a physical impossibility for him. He's too quick, too small, and way too ignorant of a woman's needs," she said. "You could have taught him," said Hardin. "Did. He thought I was badgering him. I gave up. Anyway, he's gone. More's the pity. He was useful if only to pay the bills," she said. "How's the drinks," said Cody, noticing that hers was almost gone and the guy's half gone. "Yeah we can do with refills," said Hardin. He poured the drinks from the bottle he'd brought down the bar with him. "You know a guy named Irv Davis?" said Hardin. "Irv? Sure, used to come in once in a while. Came in more often after his marriage cratered. But no more," he said. "Not since he lost his job. Hear he's on the street now. A friend of his told me so a while back." "He lost his job?" said Isabel. She had assumed that he had quit his job to get away, but lost it . . . "Yeah, after his marriage went south; he seemed to lose interest in work, everything really; told me that himself," he said. Isabel nodded. "Sounded like his wife did him dirty." Isabel took on a sad look. Neither of the two of them picked up on the fact that Cody'd pretty much ID'd Isabel as Irv's wife. He'd wondered off down the bar looking for an empty glass to fill. "Jesus, my own personal pathetic asshole is on the street," said Isabel. "Gotta feel sorry for the poor guy." Hardin was suddenly serious. "Yeah, really. That's tough," he said. Isabel looked him askance. "I'm going to the little girls' room. I'll be back in a couple of minutes," said Isabel. He raised his glass in a pseudo toast to nature's call, she snickered and made to go. "Another?" said Cody, coming up to him. "Yeah, sure," said Hardin "That's Irv's wife isn't it?" Said Cody. Hardin looked him askance. "Yes. It is," said Hardin. "He told me that you were the one doing her," said Cody. "What? Told you—me?" said Hardin "Yes, and you've met the man," said Cody "No, never had. She talks about him a lot. I listen. Feel like I almost know the guy," said Hardin "No, I meant you have already met him," said Cody. "Huh—what?" said Hardin "Remember some weeks back some guy asked what kind of music you liked," said Cody nodding toward the music machine down the aisle. "No, I don't think so," said Hardin. "Yeah, you told him you like Keith Urban's 'Memories of us'," he said. A light seemed to come on in his head. "That was . . . " said Hardin. "Yep. That was Irv," said Cody "Oh shit!" said Hardin. That got a raised eyebrow from Cody who now took to touring the tables talking to the customers while his backup handled the bar. He saw her returning from the little girls' room. She noticed his look. "I've met him," he said, without ceremony. "Met who?" she said. Irvin and Isabel Davis "Your husband," he said. She looked surprised. "He's here? Where?" she said, scanning the bar in all directions. "No, I met him a few weeks ago. And, yes it was here," he said. "What? How? When? Why didn't you tell me!" she said. "I would have, but I didn't know it until now, just now. "He was here. He was playing music," he said. There was a long pause. Hardin looked down, looked away, everywhere—anywhere but in her eyes. "What!" she said. "We talked," he said. "We talked about women." "Huh? About women?" she said. "Yes," he said. "And?" she said. "Well, a lot of it turned out to be about you as I now know. It was guy talk, you know," he said. "No, I don't know," she said, growing more and more impatient. "Well, you came up in the conversation and somehow we—I—got to talking about your feelings about your husband. Which, I hasten to add, I did not know it was him that I was talking to! Okay!" he said. "What the fuck are you talking about!" she said. "Well, I kinda told him some of the things you've said about him, thought about him. You know things you've said to me when we've been together," he said. Suddenly her look morphed from wanting to know what was going into something resembling horror. "Oh my God! How he must have felt. Exactly how much did you tell him?" she said. "Kinda everything," he said. "Oh my God! Jesus Hardin! What were you thinking! Damn-damn-damn!" said Isabel. "It just popped out. You know, guys braggin' and sayin' shit," he said. "Can I ask, did Irv say anything?" she said. Hardin had to think for a minute. "No, not really. He kept saying he wasn't much of a man and wished he had better looks, skills, stuff. "I told him he was a pretty good looking guy. Told him he'd find someone sooner or later. I had no idea he'd already found you. Nothing, really, he didn't say much of anything," said Hardin. "Oh boy, if and when I ever see him again, I am going to have to do some really fast talking. I gotta let him know that most of the smack I laid on him or to others about him was just sour grapes. "Jesus, I did not want to hurt the guy. Sure as hell not more than I already have," she said. The man nodded. "Yeah, I feel kinda bad too." "Well, it is what it is. Hopefully there will come a day," she said. ****** The rescue mission was more or less gaily decorated for the day, Thanksgiving. But my mood was not gay. No family or friends to dine with, no party. But, the dinner would be pretty good actually, both turkey and ham and the usual fixins. I did have a half pint of Jim Beam I'd been able to afford with the few bucks I was able to hold onto from the occasional clean up job at this or that store or bar I was able to get. I'd be enjoying it a little bit later. The mission did not allow drinking on the premises. I knew a few of the guys cheated on that rule creating their own version of coffee royale but not me. I'd be drinking alone though. My bud, Alex, wasn't available; he was in the freakin' hospital: a fall off the dock in the dark two days gone. He had a broken leg and a suspected concussion. He'd be in the indigents-only ward for a week at least. I was going back for seconds when I bumped into her. She spoke to me. "Hi," she said. "Huh? Hello," I said. She looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place her. "You come here too?" she said. "Yeah, almost every day anymore, lost my job, wife, everything. Not much reason to work my ass off for just me. I mean if you get my drift. "But, look, I'm sorry, but . . ." She smirked. "You don't remember me," she said. "Gotta tell yuh that kinda hurts, well, a little anyway." My knitted brow evidently caused her to laugh. "We never spoke but we were at the same place at the same time a while ago," she said. I looked her askance. "At the Hard Hat. I was talking to some guy. You came down to play some music and talked to him too. I saw you and wondered who you were." "Yeah, I think I do remember you," I said. "I heard him tell you that I did tricks," she said. "He didn't lie, I do, but not that often. I don't like it, but a girl has to survive. When I'm hungry, well you know." I nodded. "Yeah, I guess," I said. "I'd turn a few tricks myself if I could interest any women in the product. But, the product in my case ain't much in demand." She laughed. "Hmm, well, be glad it isn't. Turning tricks can turn one's stomach. I speak from experience. "Anyway, my name's Carrie," she said. I remembered the whole scene now. Karpis had clued me that she came into the Hard Hat occasionally looking for customers. "Well, nice to meet you," I said. "Say look. I'm here alone. You?" "Me too," she said. "And yes, I'd like to share the meal with you." She'd guessed at what I was about to ask. "It's hard being alone on these holidays, especially this one," she said. I nodded. "Yes, it is hard and yes I'd be grateful for your company," I said. Well, Thanksgiving wasn't exactly glitzy, and no there was no offer of sex for companionship. But, the way I looked at things as Carrie and I parted, after some two hours of being together, two things kinda made the day better than I had expected. One, the food was good. Two, I had a new friend if only a platonic one. The upshot about having a new friend was the salient fact that neither she nor I had made any plans to see each other again; and, I'm not exactly sure why. Thinking about it later, I would come to believe that we would be seeing each other again, and that not too far in the future. ****** "You're looking kinda down," he said. She shrugged. "No, not down, or maybe just a little. Just wondering where he is today, I mean the holidays can be kind of a major downer if one is alone," said Isabel. "Izzy, you've got to stop all of this moping around about him. It's his choice that he's not here with you, well, with us," said Hardin. "I suppose, but it is kind of a downer for me on some level anyway," she said. "I can understand that, but today is our day. Minnie and John will be over soon; and, so will Marlu and Bob. If Irv walks through the door today, we'll treat him like the long lost family that he is and try to get him to sit down and reason with us. But, if not, Izzy; it's his loss. You and I love each other, and while you have so far refused to divorce the guy while he's in the straights that he's in and marry me, I know that in the long run that that is what is likely to happen. "Irv's a good guy. And, he deserves to be treated as such, but there are limits. Okay?" said Hardin. "I guess. Maybe," she said. His look of frustration was obvious to her. She did love him, Hardin; well, she was pretty sure she did. But, she also loved her "loser" husband. Would she sooner or later divorce Irv and marry Hardin? It was a possibility, but . . ." ****** It had gotten cold. The neon standard in front of the bank, down the street from Allied Cargo, read twenty-two degrees. Cold as heck, threatening to snow, and now I was alone. Alex having been released from the hospital decided to take to the rails and head south to warmer climes. And, yes a few guys did still ride the rails. But, at least I didn't have to sleep in some doorway, or worse, in the open. Christmas was four days away. I needed a few bucks for booze and maybe a little extra food: one meal a day was kinda marginal if sensationally wonderful for my diet. At any rate, I'd been hoofing it for some minutes in the cold when I saw a sign for temporary help. It had indeed snowed, and that fairly heavily: I guessed that the town had several inches of it on the ground. I headed inside to enquire about the temp job. Ironically the place was a Macdonald's; and no, it was not the one my wife worked at. I was more than sure I wouldn't be meeting up with her. "Yes, we're busy and we need someone to do a little cleaning up outside and to keep the snow shoveled around the doorway and the handicapped parking. Think you can handle that, Irv," said Frank—his name plate said Frank Asst. Mgr. "Yes sir," I said. He showed me to the utility room, loaned me a parka that employees used when working outside—I had my own gloves—and I got to work. I'd just gotten off after some three hours and gotten $20 cash for my trouble when the manager came on duty. It was 11:00AM. She almost screamed. "Irvin! What are you doing here!" said the manager. And oh yes, she was my wife!" I just stared at her. I must have looked like a complete loser—wino—retard something. My clothes, while not exactly ragged, were dirty, and my aging Nikes were muddy and bespoke poverty. I sure was glad that Frank had already given me my twenty bucks. "Uh-nothing . . ." I started. "Come in, come in now," she said. I looked around, unsure of my next move. But, it was very cold, so I followed her inside the atrium; well, it was out of the wind which was picking up. "What are you doing here? Where are you staying? Jesus, Irv, I have to say you look terrible," she said. "Nothing. I'm not doing anything. I was just on my way home," I said. Just then Frank came out. "Hello boss. Irv here asked to do some of the temp stuff we needed done. I've already paid him," said Frank. Isabel gave him a positive nod which was the signal for him to withdraw. He did. "Let's go into my office, Irv. We need to talk," she said. "No, no, I've gotta get going. Got a lot to do," I lied. "Look, Irv, the offer is still open, and I hope you're cooled off enough to accept it," she said. "What offer? I've already done the cleanup. Frank said I did a good job," said Irv. "No, I mean to be with me, us be husband and wife again, live together. But . . ." she said. "But, your still seeing your boyfriend, right?" I said. "Irv, he's moved in. And yes, I guess he is my boyfriend as you call it. And yes, we are sleeping together. But, if you come home you'll be in my bed at night and Hardin will be in the guest room. How about it?" she said. I was about to answer when Frank appeared once again. "Boss the GM's on the phone. Says it's important," said Frank. "Okay," she said. "Irv, come inside for a moment. I have to take this call, but we need to talk some more," she said. She turned and hurried inside. I hurried outside and away from there as fast as I could go. I didn't actually run, but I was walking at just a little below light speed. Live with her with him in the house, listen to her screaming her pleasure as he fed her his nine-inch sausage? Not a snowball's chance in hell! I was gettin' along fine without her, and I would keep on doin' fine. Well, fine might be a slight exaggeration. ****** The neon standard in front of the bank now read nine degrees. Damn it was cold. I kept going back to my most recent meet up with Isabel. God, she was pretty. She would always be that for sure. I'd essentially turned tail and run away from her that day at her new workplace, I hadn't had any time to think things through. I was still as humiliated and hurt as I had been when she'd laid out her ultimatum to like it or hit the road. I'd opted to hit the road. At that time I was still employed, I had options, or, at worst I could develop options. I hadn't actually thought very far ahead of course which fact had finally ended in getting myself fired. As I kept rubbing my all but frozen hands together in the farthest corner of the loading bay, I was finally doing what I should have been doing in the first place—thinking things through. If I were to accept her offer of being in her bed, and yes even with her boyfriend just down the hall, I would indeed be humiliated and jealous and hurting real bad. That said, I was currently also humiliated, jealous, and hurting real bad. The difference? The only difference was that I would be seeing her ever day—and him too—while at the same time being warm and well fed. Was the price I would have to pay, seeing them together to be comfortable, worth it? That was the sixty-four dollar question. It was another freezing day. It was 8:00AM. I watched as his car left, and waited a few more minutes before I went up the little path to the front door. I stood on the porch and knocked. She answered it, the door. "Irvin! My God, you're here!" she said. "The offer still good?" I said. "If not . . ." "Yes of course, come in. It's freezing out there," she said. It was freezing and I did come in. We headed into the kitchen. It was toasty. I shucked my overcoat, the only thing that had kept me from freezing to death the last month and a half. "My God, Irv, you're so thin," she said. "Yeah, been working out," I said. She smirked at my obvious and clearly ridiculous lie. "You hungry?" she said. "I could eat," I said, trying not to seem unduly desperate. "Of course you're hungry," she said. She spent the next twenty minutes putting together some bacon and waffles for me while I sipped the already made coffee. I noticed the mugs and dishes in the sink as she had poured me a cup. They'd obviously had breakfast together. If I stayed, and I was planning on it; I'd be seeing a lot of their—his—dishes and mugs in the sink. I didn't exactly wolf the food down, but I didn't waste any time either. Well, I was hungry, and she knew it. However, she had the grace not to comment on it. While I ate she kept up a more or less continual chatter about how glad she was to see me, and expected that she and I would be doing very good in the days to come. I made comments from time to time as seemed called for or during this or that pregnant pause in her monologue. I wiped the detritus from my lips, took a final sip of coffee and leaned back in my chair. She was suddenly pensive. "Irv, it is so good to see you, really. But, Hardin is still here and will remain so. You do realize that, right?" she said. I nodded. "But, as I said those months ago, he will not have any impact on our relationship, yours and mine," she said. "I can promise you that." I nodded. It was not the time to cause problems. I was shaking in my emotional boots, but I was out of choices. I either accepted my status as her cuckold or I would have to be satisfied with my little cave in the truck park of Allied Cargo for the foreseeable future. "Yes, I understand," I said. "I promise not to make waves." She nodded, and I suppose her nod would have to be described as hopeful. "It's been what, nine months since you left. Right?" she said. "Yeah, I guess," I said. "Can I ask—well—would you be interested in . . ." she stopped talking and opened the bathrobe she'd been wearing and thereby exposing her breasts to me. I swallowed hard. "Yes," I squeaked. "I mean of course." She smirked "Thought you might," she said. "Come on." She rose and stretched out her hand for me to take. I did and she led me into the front room. Her robe was completely open now exposing both her breasts and her bald mound and the slit that divided it. God she was hot. "You are so hot," I said, my tone almost trance like. "Thank you, sir," she said. "But, Irv, You will be getting sloppy seconds this morning. I mean I didn't expect you, and . . . " "Okay," I said, "I'll try not to notice." I was attempting to be flippant, and she evidently appreciated my effort. "Well, good," she said. "Now strip for me. I want to watch you." I obeyed her command. Naked, I walked to my wife and took her in my arms for the first time in many months. We kissed and felt each other up for some minutes as we stood in the center of the living room just a few feet from the couch. I pulled her down to the floor with me. She lay on her back, smiled, and spread her legs as wide as she could. I needed no further encouragement. I mounted her and slid inside of her easily; she was obviously still well lubricated from her morning fuck with her lover. I fucked her for what seemed half an hour, but was more likely something like six or eight minutes. I shuddered and unloaded my pent up cum inside of her. I rolled off of her and lay panting. I was still hot to trot if the truth were known. Well it had been a while. She used her robe to wipe my still semi-hard almost four-inches dry and began teasing me up by stroking my cock oh so lightly and tickling my balls. It took a little while, but hard again, she rolled over onto her belly and raised her buttocks a few inches inviting me to take her from behind. The second time around I lasted at least ten minutes and she made it, orgasmed. "Feeling better?" she said, as we lay side by side on the carpet. "Lots," I said, and that truthfully. I knew things would change later, when "he" came home from work, but at that moment I felt safe and content if not actually happy. "Good, and that's the way it's going to be from now on," she said. "It is going to be my business to make sure you are happy and fulfilled and not having to feel jealous or unloved or any of it. Okay?" she said. I nodded. "Okay," I said. "We need to shower," she said, "Together. You stink and as for that we both have the stink of sex on us. So let's go. She led me by my stump of a penis upstairs to the bathroom. For the first time, even counting the day I left those nine months gone, I was ashamed of my cock. It was true that she'd drained me. But, even so, her hand completely covered its girth as she pulled me along to the shower. "I will be moving his things into the spare bedroom a little later," said Isabel. "You're my husband. You have rights. One of them is to be my mate in the master bedroom at night, not him. You can feel good about things, Irv. You are definitely number one, not mister big dick." "Okay," I said. "I appreciate that." I presumed she'd likely be calling him to appraise him of the new reality as soon as she could. I wondered how things would play out when he realized that we'd already met. The thought made me smile, but it was a sardonic smile. My old clothes, and there were a lot of them, had been moved into the guest room, after mister Karpis had taken my place in the master. Now, mine were transferred back even as she moved his into it. I made a mental note to make sure that certain items I'd left behind the last time would be with me if I ever felt the urge to leave again. ****** Isabel and I were sitting together on the couch when we heard the back door open and close. "Well, this is it," said Izzy, "the moment of truth." She giggled. He stopped cold in the doorway. "Wow!" he said. "You didn't call." I guess, I'd been wrong about that one. She'd had opportunities, but had not given him a heads up. I thought that interesting. Maybe I really was number one after all if not the only one. I guess I felt good about that. Good for the moment anyway. "No, I wanted it to be a surprise. And, in case there was any doubt in your mind, my husband has already had his sloppy seconds. You can have thirds if you are up for it. Okay?" she said. He laughed. No, I think I'll wait till after you've showered," he said. Now it was her turn to laugh. "Just kidding, he and I have already showered—together," she said. Now, everybody laughed, even me, though in my case maybe not as enthusiastically as the two of them. Dinner was simmering on the stove and Izzy announced that we should adjourn there, to the kitchen. We did. We ate and talked pretty much about nothing. Nobody asked me about my time on the streets, and nobody brought up Hardin and their time together; no, it was mundane and nothing and maybe best described as surreal. Dinner done everybody waited for someone to do or say something about what was to come next. Then, she took the initiative. "Your clothes and personal stuff are all in the guest room, Hardin'. Now that my husband is back we'll go back to plan 'A' if you remember. Okay?" she said. I nodded, and so did Hardin, though in his case maybe a bit slower than in my case. Irvin and Isabel Davis "It was clear that Izzy was doing her level best to ensure that I knew I was numero uno. I had to appreciate her allowing me that bit of face saving at the very least. I wondered how my rival for her affections was taking it—really. I figured we'd, I'd, know soon enough. It was still early, and she walked him to his new digs and followed him inside. They were there for a good hour plus. I had no illusions. She was demonstrating for my benefit—and maybe his—how it was going to be. Ironically, I was kinda glad she was in there doing him. I needed time to think, and that was ne'er impossible with her on my arm. In the days immediately following my return things were kinda mellow. Things were mellow, but I was not idle. I had things to take care of. The main thing was to get myself reemployed. It actually ground on me a bit that Hardin was the one still helping to pay the bills instead of me. I was figuring that since he was in the guest room instead of me that it ground on him too. I would be doing my best to get my job back, my old job. And this time, if I were able to get it back; and now knowing, as I did, why my Izzy had held me in such contempt, I would be doing my level best, and more than my level best, to be a success. I was pretty sure I could do it, but well, now I had to prove it to myself. ****** Herman Marks was a good guy. Everybody at Ritter Inc. loved him. But, good guy notwithstanding, Herman required maximum effort in a very competitive industry: software design and sales. I'd been an okay—read nothing extra—sales agent when last employed there, but then the disaster of my domestic situation caused me to not make the cut, when the pink slip man made his appearance, and I was let go. But now I had something else to sell—me. Or, more accurately that I could not only do the job, but do it real good. Annie waved me in. "Good luck Irvin," she said. She winked and gave me the high sign. I nodded to her, took a deep breath, and entered. "Good afternoon, Irv. How have you been?" said my ex-boss. "Good sir, good," I said. A long moment of silence followed. He broke it. "Irv, I know why you're here. There could only be one reason. So, sell me on the idea that rehiring you would be a good idea," he said. I took another deep breath. "Sir in this past year, well ten months, I've been going through a lot. Mostly just personal stuff. You know with the wife and what all. That's all behind me now. I not only know I can do the job, but I know that I can be an even better agent than was the case before," I said. We talked long, more than an hour. By the time we shook, I was back on staff, but that provisionally. I was going to have to produce and hopefully better than I had before. I didn't even go home. I started making calls from my office—the same one I'd had before—less than ten minutes after we parted. Part of the reason that I had been rehired without a lot of fuss was totally extraneous to anything I presented to mister Marks at our little sit down. Competition for good sales people was strong. Ritter had lost four agents to other companies in the month before I'd returned. I not only got rehired, I was rehired with an expanded territory. It was exactly what I needed to inspire me. I worked hard and long; and, in less than six months I was promoted to regional sales boss. I had six other agents under me, and when they made bonuses, a piece of their action accrued to me. In short by the end of another year, my income was well-nigh double what it had been in the old days; well, those I considered were and saw as the old days. Of course, as one might be tempted to imagine, my success was more than heralded by my rival for my wife's affections: Hardin Karpis: he who had heretofore been paying the bills that I had not, was indeed happy. Happy because I was no paying the bills. Isabel too seemed to glory in the fact that I was a much improved breadwinner. Also on the plus side, I'd even installed a new deck in the back yard, an expansion to the patio. I think that Isabel saw that as a commitment on my part to her program; she was wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's how she saw things. Sex during the same year's time was regular and satisfying if not actually exciting for me. My bitterness had to some extent dried up even if my jealousy, hidden though it was, had not. Every time she wandered down the hall to the man I cringed. When I heard her animal grunts and screams of pleasure, and she never screamed for me, I gritted my teeth. Our arrangement, her arrangement, couldn't last. I mean she liked him in at least one sense better than me; that was the kicker, and that was something that I just could not figure a way to overcome. She lay naked and beautiful and spread eagle on our bed with my cum leaking out of her pussy. "You did good tonight," she said. "Are you okay?" I think she had noticed that I was a little less enthusiastic than I had been early on. She wanted reassurance that we were cool. It had till that moment been to my advantage to promote just such a feeling of semi-contentment. But now . . . "The sex? Yeah, it was good. It always is with you. But . . ." I said. "Irv, I'm sure you noticed that I have been bending over backwards to make this arrangement work for us—and Hardin," she said. "Yes, I have to give you that. But, I'm pretty sure that you had to have noticed that I am still not comfortable with the situation. The difference now is that I no longer have my head four feet up my ass. I know what I have to do and what I can tolerate," I said. "And that is?" she said. "I'll be moving out, Izzy. I'll be doing so immediately, tomorrow. You and Hardin will have a clear field now, no more having to fake orgasms with me. And, you won't have to worry about me losing my job or living on the street anymore either, and I know you did worry and feel sorry for me. And, I appreciate that you did. "I've got my act together now. I love you to death, Izzy; you know that, but not enough to share you. I hope you understand where I am coming from," I said. "No!" she said. "You can't leave. I need you. You know that! Hardin isn't you." "I seem to remember you saying that, if I didn't, couldn't, accept you having a lover that I had to sit still for a divorce. Well, that's where we're at now, Izzy. I can't sit still for you having a lover anymore. So, I guess you'll have to go and get your divorce," I said. "Oh, Irv, You need to rethink things. We've been doing good. You know we have. We can get by this. We can," she said. "No we can't, Izzy. No we can't." We talked for some little time and then agreed to go to bed. I slept on the couch. She didn't much like me doing it, but I think she was of the opinion that I would cool off and she could make a better case in the morning. But, by morning I was gone to work. "I'd be going back for my things, but I planned to do it when they were both at their work places. ****** I was sitting at my usual place in the Hard Hat. I saw Carrie, plying her wares. She was a cutie for sure though a trifle on the young side. It'd been a couple of months since I'd moved out of the house for the second time, and some six months more or less since I'd laid eyes on Carrie. I was still getting phone calls from Izzy every few days. She would tell me stuff that was going on. Remind me of this or that holiday or special occasion that was upcoming and that I needed to come home for—I did tell her that I would spend the next holiday with her, and even with Hardin. What can I say; it was a concession to my all but deathless love for her. One such upcoming special day was our wedding anniversary. I promised to go to dinner with her—but only one on one—that day; I'd had to stipulate that that was day that had to be a Hardin-less or it was a no go. She agreed with my terms; I think she was planning to make her pitch yet again. Well we'd see. At any rate, it had been some time since I'd gotten any, and seeing Carrie, and knowing what she was about gave me ideas. She didn't seem to be doing too well. I was in the chips again thanks to getting my job back. I know I looked a lot different this night: suit, tie, styled hair, probably smelled better too; hell, I know I did. I headed over to her. "Hi," I said. She gave me the once over, smiled, frowned, and finally looked surprised. "Irvin?" she said. "How are you!" "Good. You cruisin tonight?" I said. She looked down. "Yes," she said. "I'm in the market," I said. She looked me askance. "When I say I'm cruisin, Irv, I mean tonight is business if you know what I mean. I mean I need to make a living," she said. "And what I mean is that I'd like to purchase your services." She looked me over. "You look different. A lot different. Are you . . ." she started. "I'm back among the living and producing," I said. "Five hundred for the night acceptable?" Her mouth dropped open. "Uh—yeah—I mean yes. I mean are you sure," she said. "Very," I said. "Yes." I handed her the money. She took it, and we left. Her place was less than half a mile away from the HH. We headed there. ****** Carrie Jordan: blond, five-six, one-ten, C-cups, bubble butt, pale complexion and flawless, age twenty-six. She was soft-spoken: she'd have been a deep contralto if she'd been a singer. She took a seat on the love seat in her front room and smirked in my direction. "Well, sailor," she said. "What's gonna be on the agenda for the evening?" Suddenly I found myself—my until that moment self-confident self—at a loss for words. "Cat got your tongue," she said. I stuttered a couple of guttural noises, cleared my throat, and told the truth. "It's my first time," I said. "I'm not sure how to do things." I spread my hands in please help me gesture. She laughed. "Okay then, this is it. No pain. Anything else you want is probably going to be okay. But, try not to be too quick or act like some macho asshole. Follow those few rules and you'll be fine," she said. "Huh? No pain? What?" I said. "Yes, no pain. Well, at least at my end. If you want me to spank you or if you are into any of that kind of stuff, I mean with you like on the receiving end of the strap. Well, that would be okay," she said. "Guys really want that kind of stuff?" I said. "You'd be surprised," she said. "And, yes, a lot of them do." "Well, not me. I want to make love," I said. And, I meant it. She gave me a serious look. My tone of voice had gotten her attention. "Hmm, Irv, you're going to get some serious sex tonight; I can promise you that; but love?" "Yes, that's what I want. Love," I said. "I've been doing this gig part time for the last couple of years, Irv; and no guy has ever asked for love. You do know what love is about, right?" she said. "Sometimes I wonder," I said. "But, yes, I think so. Ever since Thanksgiving you've been on my mind. Tonight I am going to find out if I'm enough for you." "What—huh?" she said. "I can't get you out of my mind, Carrie—or—my heart," I said. "At first I thought it was just what I'm sure you're thinking it is: infatuation. I'm here to tell you that ain't it." I was shooting off my mouth without having thought through a single syllable of what I'd just told her. And yet, I was certain that everything I'd said was absolutely true. "I don't know where any of this is going, Irv, but okay, I'll give it a shot. But, don't' be surprised if in the end I send you away without whatever it is that you do in fact want." She stood and came to me. She cupped her breasts and massaged them. The broad smile that creased her features dared me to take over the job. I did. And I kissed her. And I let my hands feel her butt, and press into its cleft. "Like my butt, big boy," she said. "Oh yeah. You can take that to the bank for damn sure," I said. "Well then, get down on your knees," she said. I did as she commanded. She turned around. "Now kiss it, big boy, kiss my ass; worship me," she said. Oh and I did my level best to do just that. This woman was hot; I mean seriously hot, white hot. I lifted her dress and peered at her buttocks through the fabric of her white, full sized panties. I could see the cleft of her ass and smell her woman smell. I buried my face in that cleft and sucked on her panties soaking them. I peeled them down her legs and once again attended to her crease and her little brown place. I licked her and sucked her and was totally captivated by her and everything about her. She turned around. "Now my pussy, little man, suck on my pussy lips and tongue fuck me like the little pussywhipped fellow that we both know you are," she said. And I was, pussywhipped that is. I did as she commanded me. But minutes later, she took hold of my hair and hoisted me to a standing position and led me to the bedroom. I took her missionary, and I took her slow. I wanted my fucking her to last forever. But, reality being what it is, seventeen minutes, by the wall clock, had to suffice. I blew into her a cyclone of cum. She'd made it too. Spittle dribbled down the side of her cheeks as she blubbered her pleasure. At that moment, the only thing I wanted to do was be with this woman for the rest of my life. The question now became, what did she want?" ****** "You know him? You've done him!" said Minnie. "Look, Minnie, we've known each other since high school. Yes, you were a senior, and I was just a lowly sophomore. But, I was no fool then, and I'm no fool now. "I know what's going on. The guy's got a wife who treats him like a pet. It's going to be her loss if she doesn't clean up her act. Look, I like the guy. Love? Doubt it. But who can tell at this stage of the game. Not me for sure: I don't believe in love at first sight," said Carrie. "Carrie, I know the both of them. Yes, Isabel is an idiot. She's got a good man, and doesn't know how to handle him. He on the other hand isn't smart enough to know how to deal with her little quirks," said Minnie. "Quirks? Little Quirks? She's got lovers, Min, and she is rubbing his nose in that little reality quite literally; and, he doesn't much like it, love her though he clearly does. If she loses him, somebody else is going to be right there to pick up the pieces. Will it be me? The jury's still out on that one. I like him, but he is kind of a candyass," said Carrie. "Hmm, rubbing his nose in it? That might be something of an overstatement. She is trying to get him to a place where he will accept what she is doing and think of it as a good thing for him too. But that is, I will allow, turning out to be something of a challenge for her," said Minnie. "Yeah, well it's more than something of a challenge for him too. Believe it," said Carrie. "You know where we met each other? At the freakin' soup kitchen. He was even more hard up than I was if you can believe it." "Yeah, I did hear that he was hard up there for a while. Got that little piece of gossip from Izzy herself," said Minnie. "But, he's back among the living now, as we both know." Carrie nodded. "Anyway . . ." started Minnie. "Anyway, he's hers to lose. If she doesn't want to lose him, she's gonna have to give up her lover. If she doesn't give him up, then as far as I'm concerned it's a matter of getting there the 'fusstest with the mostest'," said Carrie. "What? Huh?" said Minnie. "One of my ancestors said that, or was supposed to have said that," said Carrie. His name was Nathan Bedford Forrest. But, that was 150 years ago. "Oh," said Minnie. ****** And then it was our anniversary, Isabel's and mine. The Cormorant Lounge was an upscale restaurant with a high class piano bar in the annex and a very good soft jazz and blues singer as the main attraction; Sinatra would have been impressed. "Nice choice," she said. "I've been very much looking forward to tonight." "Me too," I said. "Irv," she said. "Yes?" I said. "Tonight is just for us. There is no one else," she said. "Absolutely," I said. Tonight would be neutral territory date-wise. What happened tomorrow or any other day would be for then, not tonight. We danced and ate and drank and danced some more. It was good and fun and memorable, and would be remembered in the months and years to come by the both of us. And, as it would turn out, it would be the last of its kind. We carried on into the wee smalls; then, I took her home. Letting her out of the car, I held the door for her. She smiled her womanly appreciation. Gosh she was beautiful. I started to lead her up to the door. She held back. "Walk with me, Irv?" she said. Well, it was a nice evening-morning now. I imagined that I was going to get the pitch; it seemed like a likely moment for such. And, it was a pitch that I got, just not the one I expected. She took my hand. "We did good for a while, didn't we Irv," she said. "Yes, I think we can say that much for sure," I said. "It's just that you and I; well, we have different aims, values." "I suppose you're right," she said. "Irv, I've wanted to spend this night with you more than anything. But Irv, it's our last night. I'm going to respectfully ask you for a divorce." The street was tree lined and we'd been walking slowly, casually, for a block or so. With her last words I stopped as did she. Well, we were still holding hands. "A divorce?" I said, without any undue emotion. She nodded in the dim glow of the lamplight half a block distant. "Yes, no more trying to get you to accept the—to you-unacceptable. I finally get it; I think," she said. "You need a different kind of woman than I am. One who loves you just as much; and, for the record no one will ever love you more, believe it," she said. "I will likely marry Hardin this coming June. He's asked me. I've held him off. But, tomorrow I will give him the 'good' news." I nodded. "Okay," I said. "I think you're right in doing this. And, I cannot think of it being done in a more acceptable manner, if that's the right way to say it. "Thank you," she said. "Lawyers?" I said. "No need for one, Irv. Write me up something you think is good, and I will sign it and it'll be done. We'll file together at the court house," she said. "Okay," I said. "Isabel, I love you. But, like you, I think it is time to end it. I wish you and Hardin every happiness." "And I do wish you the same, Irv, I really do. And, I know you'll find the woman you need soon enough. I'm sure of it," she said. She had no way of knowing, but I already had. ****** There weren't many customers, it being a Tuesday afternoon. But the Hard Hat was entertaining two of its more regular customers. "You say she dumped him?" said Max Jethcote. "Hmm, yes, told him she wanted a divorce. She's going to marry me," said Hardin Karpis. "Congratulations. A couple of cheaters getting it on permanently. Gotta love it," said Max. he laughed till his side hurt. "We love each other," said Hardin. He was a little miffed at what he saw as his friend's downer attitude. "Yeah, I'm sure. Remember, I've met her, know her. Izzy Davis is quite a piece, but not the kind of woman to ever stick with just one joy stick. You'll be a cuckold before the year is out," said Max. The difference between me and old Irvin, is that that won't bother me all that much. Nine inches rules, you can trust me on that one," he said. "Maybe, but other things might very well put the boff on even the attraction of your more than spectacular sex engine," said Max. "Well, it'll be my job to see that that doesn't happen," said Hardin. Minnie and John arrived at the same time as did Izzy. The trio spotted the two men in conversation across the room. The trio headed for the duo. "Hello, Max, said Izzy," nice to see you. "Hi Max, Hardin," said Minnie," joining the parade of greeters. John smiled and waved hello to the other men. The men muttered their usual mutterances concluding the greetings. Irvin and Isabel Davis "Let's eat. That's what we're here for," said Hardin. The rest of the crowd enthusiastically agreed. "Oh, I almost forgot, Izzy. Before we get too far into the more serious issue, you're your upcoming wedding, you do know that your ex has a new squeeze," said Minnie looking straight at Isabel. The look on Izzy's face said it all. "No?" said Izzy. "I told you he'd be picked up pretty fast if you ever dumped him," said Minnie. "Hey, what am I, chopped liver," said Hardin. The women laughed, John looked pensive. "Sorry, Hardin, you are certainly not chopped liver as Izzy has more than once assured me," said Minnie. "Well, I'm glad," said Izzy. "Irv deserves a good woman." "Hmm, she is a good woman. I know that for sure. But . . ." said Minnie. "But?" said Izzy. "She's a part time prostitute, or, use to be. I thin k she's quit the business since they've gotten together," said Minnie. "Wait a minute," said Hardin. "It's not that same girl that comes into the Hard Hat from time to time is it?" "The same," said Minnie. Hardin couldn't help smiling. "So he had to settle for a lady of the evening," said Hardin. "Settling isn't the way I'd phrase it," said John, joining the conversation. "She's gorgeous and very intelligent. I've met her through Minnie here; the two of them went to school together back in the day." "No, no, I wasn't meaning to say smack about her; well, but, maybe I did, but I was not meaning to. It's just that compared to Izzy . . ." started Hardin. "Yeah compared to a cheating whore of a wife, me," interjected Izzy. "Minnie, you know her pretty good?" said Izzy. "Yes," said Minnie. "See if you can get them to come to a party next Saturday night. I want to meet the future missus Davis. They are headed for the altar, right?" said Izzy. "Yes, and fairly soon, according to Carrie; that's her name, Carrie," said Minnie. Izzy nodded. "Well good," said Izzy. ****** The party was in full swing when we arrived. I hadn't wanted to come. Being around Izzy and Hardin made me—something. And, that in spite of Izzy and my amicable break up. And, I didn't really need the something. Carrie and I were doing good and adding likely drama to the mix didn't excite me all that much—well—not in a positive way. "Hi," said John Fowler. "Same to yuh, John" I said. "Been a while." "Yeah, my work keeps me busy pretty much 24/7," I do landscape work, but anymore it's mostly designing such. I travel a lot," he said. "Minnie asked me to have a word with you, and kinda private like." I nodded. The two of us meandered away from the press of people. Carrie had joined a couple she knew and I'd been in the midst of doing some circulating of my own. We ended up by the back fence. Most of the folks were milling around on the large patio—the one I had added to some months before. Well, the bar was there. "So, what can I do for you, mister Fowler?" I said. "As you may know, Minnie and Carrie are long time pals," said John. "Yeah, so I hear," I said, "So?" "Well, it's about Carrie's profession . . ." he started. My mood darkened. "Carrie's profession?" I said. "Yes, well sort of. Minnie and Izzy are best friends. Izzy asked Minnie about your new squeeze. So Minnie told her stuff. Anyway, Izzy feels awful about the stuff she did to you in the past, and feels, well, feels that you need to be made aware of her concern—Jesus! I'm screwing this whole thing up. "Look, mister Davis. I'm supposed to tell you to be careful about getting to close to Carrie . . ." he said. I could feel my face clouding up. "You've got balls, John. You can tell Izzy that I know all about Carrie's profession as you call it. And, at the very least she is a helluva lot better person than the lot of you all. She and I will be leaving now. Thanks for the invite, but no thanks," I said. I strode to find Carrie and get the fuck out of hypocrisy city. "I came up to a small group of women and saw my diminutive fiancé gabbing excitedly about girl stuff. I pulled her aside. "We gotta go," I said. "What? Huh?" she said. "Yeah, I'll tell you about it in the car," I said. We headed out. And just as she settled in and I slammed the door on her side, a waving Minnie with urgency written all over her came careening down walkway intending to block my path to my side of the car. She succeeded. "Out of my way Minnie. Carrie and I have an important engagement," I said, as I reached around her keying my door's lock. "Irv, you need to listen to me. Izzy was just trying . . ." started Minnie. "And engagement? What engagement?" "A wedding and a life without any of you," I said. "And as for the woman of the house, she has no business trying to do or influence anything when it comes to me and mine, and the woman in the car is mine," I said. Well, the spirit of what I was saying was true if not the letter: Carrie, noting the commotion, was already out of the car coming around to us. "Honey? What's going on," she said. "Our hosts seemed to think that I should think twice about being with you. Seems like their standards are too high to be comfortable with your used to be profession," I said. Carrie took on a kind of—what—tolerant smile maybe. Well, even if she were willing to tolerate their unasked for crudeness, I wasn't! "Minnie?" said Carrie. "Just a total misunderstanding," tried Minnie. I sneered. I hustled Carrie back around to her side of the car. Went back to my side got in, gunned the engine, and pulled out just as Izzy and Hardin showed up at the curbside. But, we were out of there. ****** "Can I ask you something, Irv," said Carrie. As we didn't quite careen down the road. "Yes, of course. Anything short of actually having the lot of them hit, certainly," I said. She snickered. "Do you really give a tinker's damn what other people think about you?" she said. "Huh?" I said. "My dad told me something before he died some years ago, and I've never forgotten it. He said, 'when it comes to how you see yourself, darling, the only opinion that matters is your own," she said. "I don't care at all what others think of me. I try to be a good person; and, as for my profession, as far as I'm concerned it's as honorable as any, and more honorable than many." I looked at her and then I looked at her again. This woman had it together better than almost anybody I ever met, and, maybe there was no "almost" about it. "I love you, Carrie. You are unique and wonderful and fun and pretty and well everything. You saved me. I will for damn sure be doing my level best to make our every day together happy and fulfilling and—well—worthy of you," I said. She leaned in and kissed me. "We saved each other," she said. "Hmm, maybe," I said. ****** The church wasn't full, but the two hundred friends, family, and coworkers in attendance were quite a crowd in any event. Carrie looked beautiful as we took our vows. And, if I do say so, I looked pretty good myself. And, before anyone asks, no Izzy and Hardin were not invited, nor were any of her crowd. As counter point to that, we had gotten a call, from Hardin, asking us if we would like to come to his and Izzy's nuptials. I think he was going to try and make what they'd done to us right. I hung up on him. Yes, I know, all things considered, burying the hatchet might seem to have been in order. But, too many things had happened for me to care very much about Isabel Davis and mister Hardin Karpis. And with the final insult to Carrie, well, it was time to consign the lot of them to the status of strangers. I had not heard from Izzy—nor any of her cohorts—since the day of the party at her house—that which used to be our house, hers and mine; and, I liked things that way. Carrie and I stood atop the church steps letting our friends shoot photos of us before we hurried off to begin our honeymoon. We headed off around the side of the church to where our car was parked. We had just gotten to unlocking it when another limo pulled up. It was another wedding party. The pastor was going to be busy today, I guessed. The bride to be exited the limo. She was beautiful, and she was my ex-wife, Isabel Davis, soon to be Karpis. The shock on her face might only have been matched by my own. Clearly she had not known that Carrie and I would have been tying the knot at the same church on the same day and that but an hour before she and the man who she had cuckolded me with did likewise. I got in the car. I turned to Carrie. She was slowly shaking her head. "Who would have thought it," she said. "Not me for damn sure," I said. "But, on the upside, it will be a story we can tell forever more." Carrie laughed. "For sure," she said. As we pulled out, Izzy and two of her bridesmaids were standing in front of the side entrance to the church staring at us as we drove off. I figured that that, them staring at us, was fair; we were staring at them too.