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My Happy Ending

By: StangStar06



   Okay, before we got started here, I want to thank everyone who wrote last week to congratulate me about my upcoming wedding. For those of you who were wondering, yes it's true and I think it's right this time. Now this one is a very long story. it's a character study so those of you who hate long stories might want to pass on this one. On the other hand I have been listening to you and I will be alternating shorter stories that will probably be four pages or less, starting with a short one next week. As usual I'd like to thank Mikothebaby for her editing wizardry. Without her you'd bee reading gibberish right now. Here we go! 

 *  *  *  *  *  *

 Somehow...I got it anyway. That was the thought going through my mind on a bright sunny morning as I drove down the broadest avenue in my small town. The sun had come out that morning after two straight days of rain. This one broad avenue looked more like a part of a major city than the center line and spine of our one horse town. The doctor's offices, the dentist's offices, the police station, the courthouse and the Starbucks franchise were all located on the same street. Believe it or not, there was an actual traffic light and a crosswalk there too.

 My midnight blue Mustang GT thundered down the road precluded by the sound of almost five hundred horsepower channeled through a Pype bomb exhaust system. My Whipple twin screw supercharger's whine added a touch of high frequency harmony to the Pype bomb's grunt. The overall sound was not unlike the roar the devil makes when he calls the demons back to hell. It's also my second favorite sound on the third rock from the sun. We'll talk about my favorite later.

 Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an older woman standing far too close to the curb. I noticed her far too late to do anything about it. Too late for even my massive 6 piston Brembo brakes to squeeze the fourteen inch rotors hard enough to stop us. I noticed her far too late also, for me to swerve into the next lane.

 So some old lady got a bath as I splashed a puddle of dirty rain water all over her. Good morning lady, I thought as 'Blue' and I thundered by her. If the laws of Karma mean anything, she probably had it coming.

 Am I an asshole for not stopping to offer an apology? Probably, but it's too good a morning for drama.

 Besides, like I said when I started this story...Somehow...I got it anyway. It took a long time for me to realize it. Maybe because it's different from what I expected it to be like, but I got my happy ending.

 I thunder down the city's street with the windows rolled all the way down and the stereo rousing late sleepers. I turn my eyes from the road for a Pico-second to check the passenger in the baby seat attached to my Mustang's tiny rear seat. My now two year old daughter is smiling and giggling. I give her a thumbs-up sign and she responds by holding her tiny perfect thumb up as well. Sticking her tiny thumb up causes her to giggle again. For those of you who haven't figured it out yet, the sound of my daughter laughing is my favorite sound. Of course, her mommy makes some noises at certain times that rank up there pretty high too.

 This really isn't the way I imagined I'd be spending my middle years. By now I should have been slowly traveling the world with my wife, living out my remaining years in ease and luxury. Instead, I'm raising a child with my young wife. I thought I'd done this already but it looks like I've been given a chance to do it all over again. Just like in the video games, I got a do over. But unlike the video games, I didn't fuck up. I had to start all over again because someone else fucked up. Sometimes, fate or Karma, decide that we get a second chance for what we're all working for. All of us are really only searching for the same thing. We all want a good life with a happy ending. I'm no different. This isn't a time travel story. This is what really happened to me.

  My name is Lawrence Clark. I'm fifty years old and about as average as average can be. I have brown hair that is starting to go gray on the sides. I'm just short of six feet tall and I weigh one hundred and seventy pounds.

 Four years ago, when I was forty six years old, I was very close to what I thought was going to be my happy ending.

 I'd been married to my high school sweetheart for more than twenty years. We got married right out of college and started raising our family. I'm an engineer and a good one. I've worked for Harris International Machine Company also known as HIMCo for most of my career.

 Over the years, I've wisely saved and invested my money and with a few bonuses and stock options thrown in, I was looking forward to taking a very early retirement by age fifty. Those last four years would be a transitional period where I'd work less and depend on the younger guys in my department to do all of, or most of the heavy lifting. It would be a great time for my wife and me to start planning our golden years and for our grown children to start becoming independent adults. We'd always be there for them, but they needed to begin making important decisions on their own. We could always transfer money into their accounts from anywhere in the world but mom and dad might be in Europe instead of the next room.

 I knew that with both of our kids in college and already involved in secure relationships with partners that we treated more like additional children of our own than just our children's partners my life was great. I was still madly in love with Amanda. She was still the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I'd been working my ass off all of my life and I was in the home stretch of making all of my dreams come true. I was so close I could smell my 'Happy Ending.' In fact, I didn't see any possible way for my dreams not to come true. It wasn't like I was wishing to rule the world or to be president or anything like that. All I wanted was to travel a bit and spend my last thirty years or so of life, living and loving the woman I married.

 *  *  *  *  *  *

 Amanda

 My head was killing me as I woke up. It was finally Wednesday, thank God. Wednesday was the only day that the dentist in our town handled people with no health insurance. I'd had a bad tooth for nearly a week and I was so tired of nearly over dosing on over the counter pain relief. The pills did dull the edge of the pain and make it more manageable, but they also made me sick to my stomach so I couldn't really eat.

 Then there was the problem that all of the liquor I tended to consume made the pills less effective. But I needed the liquor. In the same way that the pain pills dulled the constant physical pain of my rotting teeth, the liquor dulled the constant mental and emotional pain of my stupidity.

 I rolled out of bed and looked around my small shitty apartment. My mind was fuzzy as it was most the time now. There was a time not too long ago that I was one of the sharpest people I knew. I had to be. My husband was an engineer. He sucked knowledge and facts into that giant brain of his like water into a sponge and constantly spat them back out. He also expected me to remember them and I loved him so much that I did. I was a substitute teacher, so I needed to be sharp for my students as well. Those were the best days of my life.

 I was slightly confused as I looked around. I was sure that there'd been a man here with me last night. As I leaned forwards in an attempt to stand up, the soreness in my vagina and oh no, my ass, remind me that there had been a man here with me. But he was gone now.

 Oh well, I thought. It's actually better that he is gone. It means there won't be any awkward scenes while we try to figure out how to tell each other that last night didn't really mean anything to either one of us. It was just two lonely people reaching out to each other to fight off being alone for a few hours.

 Surprisingly, I don't even remember the sex. Since both my ass and my pussy are sore, the bastard had a good time, but I don't know whether or not I did. I do remember that he was big though. I remember him asking me about math too, maybe it wasn't math but he was asking me about numbers.

 I grab the bottle of pain pills off of the table and suck a couple down to stop the drums in my head. I'm glad that today is Wednesday. I don't think I can take the pain of this rotten tooth for much longer. I've also heard of cases where people have died from untreated rotten teeth.

 I start counting the throbbing in my head and jaw. By the time I get to a hundred the pills have begun to work their magic and the pain is receding. Somehow, with less pain to focus on I can see and think a bit more clearly too. I seem to remember that the man from last night was named James. He doesn't live in my town. He was just here from one of the other small towns in the region looking for a good time.

 I remember now that he was divorcing his wife. I remember because that was one of the things I liked about him. I figured that maybe he understood my pain. He'd been caught cheating on his wife and she'd thrown him out. He was trying to learn how to make a go of living on his own too. We had that in common. The difference, of course, was that I hadn't cheated on my husband. And someday I'd get him back. This is not the way I was supposed to be living my life. My husband, Rence, was not supposed to be running around on me with some barely thirty something bitch. We were supposed to be spending our years traveling together and doing interesting things.

 He was the one having the affair, so why did I feel so shitty. Then he went and got the stupid bitch pregnant. I'd been hoping until that time that it would run its course but once there was a baby involved...

 I still didn't understand why I had to suffer. The only reason I could understand was because I loved my husband. I love the bastard enough to forgive him for the way he treats me because I know that it won't last for long. We will be together in the end. I'm sure of it. Any day now he'll be knocking on my door begging me to come and live in that beautiful house with him...Any day now.

 So for now, I'll subsist in this shitty apartment while I wait for him to come to his senses and realize that we're supposed to be together. I really think that most men go through some kind of mid-life crisis like women go through menopause.

 Some guys go out and buy some flashy car and chase younger women, others decide to run a marathon or see the world. Obviously, Rence went with the first scenario. I'm certain that it will end soon and things will be back to normal. My kids seem to think that I'm delusional. But I'm certain their father will come back to me.

 Just as I'm certain that there was a television on the empty stand in my living room last night. I look around the room to see if it fell off of the stand and notice that my TV is gone. The microwave in my kitchenette has also disappeared. Fuck!

 I look over by my bed and breathe a sigh of relief as I notice that my purse is still there. I breathe another sigh of relief as I notice that my wallet is also still there. I look through the wallet and find my driver's license and other ID. My credit card is still there...My Bank card is missing.

 As the pain pills kick in fully, the numbers make sense. That bastard had actually asked me about my pin number. I look through my purse for my cell phone. I can call the bank to cancel the card and try to use that online banking app to check my balance.

 I can't do either though, because my phone is gone. Since I don't have a land line phone, I got rid of it to save on expenses; I can't even call the police to report the robbery.

 Shit, I let my head drop and start crying. God damn that Rence. If he hadn't deserted me for that child, none of this shit would be happening. The two of us should be exploring Europe together by now. There should be a special place in hell for men who desert a woman just because she gets a few lines or wrinkles. As much as I love him, Rence is fucking crazy. Why the hell does he worship older cars, but leaves a perfectly good woman, who loves him unconditionally for a girl who is barely older than our children?

 I get up and take a shower. I know that I stink. James left a lot of sweat and sperm all over me and in me. I dress in my best jeans and my only clean shirt. I don't bother trying to do anything to my hair because I have no one to impress. I'm barely awake and my day is already shitty.

 The one thing that strikes me as strange is my image in the mirror. I don't look like myself any more at all. I know that emotional pain and stress can make a person look older but this is ridiculous. I guess the alcohol and the rough nights have also taken their toll on me. I really need to start eating better and taking better care of myself. I look at least ten years older and I've only been divorced for four years. I look nothing like I did in that picture of our family that's sitting on my mantle. I look more like my mom did when she was sixty.

 Now I have to go to the police station and try to file a report. I also have to go to the bank to try to find out whether or not James was able to get into my account and steal my money. Maybe I should go to the bank first so I can add that to the report. But I have to do both before I can go to the dentist. I really need to be at the Dentist's office as soon as they open so I don't have to wait all day there. They don't take appointments for Wednesdays. It's a first come, first served situation unless you're an emergency case.

 I grab my apartment key and the building's front door key. I don't have a car anymore. After the second DUI, I lost my license. I step out of the apartment and lock the door. I take the elevator because I'm afraid of the stairs. I am nearly fifty and I'm not in the best health any more. If I fall down the steps it might be days before anyone finds me, especially since I no longer have a phone to even call anyone.

 On the other hand, some of those younger boys in this building are pretty bad. I might get raped if caught in those stairwells anyway. It happened to a woman last year and she was a big fat girl. I'm not as pretty as I used to be or in as good a shape, but I still think that I'd be a better target for a rape than that three hundred pound cow.

 As I get outside I notice that the sun is out and it looks like a beautiful day. After two solid days of heavy rain, the sun looks and feels wonderful on my skin. In a short skirt and a tight top I used to turn quite a few heads on a nice day like this. Now, in my faded ratty jeans and worn out tennis shoes people step to the side to avoid me.

 But today except for the pain in my mouth, I feel good for a change. Maybe, just maybe, my luck is about to turn around. I step up to the edge of the street and notice a dark car moving towards me at a fast rate. I stay on the curb and look up at the sun as I enjoy its rays.

 Before I can move, the car thunders past me, splashing a ridiculous amount of dirty water all over my face and clothes

 The water drenches me from head to toe and worse yet, some of it enters my eyes, my nose and my mouth. I spit out dirty water and who knows what else. This was the last straw. This was the straw that broke the fucking camel's back. I scream loudly in rage and frustration.

 Unfortunately, the driver of the midnight blue car doesn't hear me or seem to care. I walk down the street as quickly as I can in the direction the car was going in. It can't be going too far. The guy obviously came here for a reason. I can see the car pulling into the parking lot in the next block and I go after it.

 I don't walk as well as I used to so it took me a few minutes to walk the block. Even as I got within range, I could see him bending over and reaching into the back of his car. He helped a tiny little girl out of the car and they went into the doctor's office.

 He was a good looking man but I could barely make him out from the distance. I was still dripping wet as I marched angrily towards the building. I could see him sitting down and talking to the child through the window. As I got closer to the window, I stopped walking suddenly as realization dawned on me.

 I stood there with water dripping from my hair, my face and my ruined clothes. I didn't know what to do. I stood there frozen in the moment as my life flashed before my eyes.

 *  *  *  *  *  *

 Lawrence

 As I said before, I was supposed to be entering a four year period of working less and turning over responsibilities to my subordinates. The idea was to gradually phase myself into retirement. I had already picked my successor. I was sure that he'd have a lot of problems to deal with but I knew that he was the one.

 Darrell Williams was twenty seven years old. He was a graduate of Michigan State University in Engineering. He'd been with us for just under two years and he was brilliant. He outshone most of my staffers and was probably the nicest, most soft spoken young man I'd ever met. The problem was that there were too many others on my staff who'd been here far longer and, of course, the fact that Darrell is black.

 I remember the first time he sat in on meeting with us. We'd been hired to design a manufacturing plant's CNC machining area. We were supposed to decide how many machines they could efficiently place inside the part of the building that they'd allocated for the shop. While I was going over the preliminary needs and several of my guys were still making jokes about what they were going to do with their bonuses, I noticed that Darrell was taking notes and drawing on a pad. He had a calculator out and was browsing through one of the brochures we'd gotten from HAAS.

 "I want you guys to design the shop and figure out how long it's going to take us to set this up." I said.

 "How many machines do they want?" asked Sam Bradford who'd worked for the company since before I did. Sam was an older guy who really thought that based on seniority he'd be taking over for me.

 "They think they'd like ten or twelve, according to the bid," said George Fullerton another long timer.

 "Should be a snap," said Sam, confidently.

 I looked up and noticed that Darrell had his hand up. Darrell was younger than most of the guys there. He was also much bigger. He was also sitting pretty much alone either because he didn't know anyone yet or because he was shy.

 "Eight," he said softly.

 "Yeah, I'll bet he ate," snickered Sam. "The guy is huge."

 "Darrell, we're pretty informal around here," I said. "You don't have to raise your hand. If you have something to say, just say it."

 "I looked at the amount of surface area we have for the shop," he said. "I also looked at the specs for the machines and the OSHA regulations for that type of business. The largest number of machines we'll be able to fit into that space is eight."

 "Bullshit," said George. "Your math is wrong and the customer wants ten or twelve. If you look at the specs you claim to have read each one of those machines only takes up..."

  "George," I said. "He's right and YOUR math is wrong. Darrell, explain it to him."

 "If you do the math, ten machines actually would fit into the space with the required four foot space between them. The problem is that if you're running the machines, you're also going to need a chip conveyor which increases the amount of square footage for each machine. If all of the machines are equipped with chip conveyors, we'll only be able to fit eight machines in that area and still meet the safety regulations. I sketched out a sample floor plan, if you'd like to see it."

 It was so quiet in the room that you could hear a pin drop. Then George kicked his chair out from behind him and stomped out of the room.


My Happy Ending Massage



The first time was awkward and a little embarrassing. It did not go completely as I hoped and I left after half to three quarters of an hour excited at what I had done, but not fully satisfied. 

"It's often like that," the young guy in his mid-twenties said. "Well the first time, but don't worry it gets better the next few times.

He left me then to have a shower and get dressed. Ready, I went to the reception and Greg was waiting. 

"I hope to see you again Cat, will I?"

"Yes I think so Greg."

"It will be much better next time, much, much better I assure you," he said. "You'll be more relaxed."

"Yes I expect you are right."

"Would you like to book something now?" 

I thought for a moment or two and replied hesitantly. "Yes, ok why not?"

He opened up his iPad and asked. "When? I do have availability tomorrow and Friday, it's often best to do it again quickly."

I got what he meant so I checked my diary on my phone and said. "Yes I understand that, how about Friday?"

"Eight ok?"

"Yes that will fine."

"I'll look forward to seeing you then Cat, eight on Friday."

I left the Victorian house in Highgate, North London with my heart pounding having just booked my second happy ending erotic massage.

*

I am just over forty-five and have been married for what seems ever, but in reality is nearing twenty-five years, my silver anniversary. I have two children both of whom are away at university and a husband who travels extensively with his job and works murderous hours when he is home. I do not see much of him. I am bored and lonely. And on top of all that the lack of consistent sex with my husband makes me almost continuously sexually frustrated.

I knew that I was a prime candidate for an affair. I had one several years ago, but that was with a man who I thought was probably the love of my life. We may well both have been the love of the other's life, but we did not have the courage to break up two families so we parted. The memories of that affair were still with me. The sex was phenomenal, but that was due to my love for David. The excuses, the lying, the subterfuge and the getting up from one bed and going home to another were awful. So much so that I had vowed never to have another affair and I had not. So I was in a classic catch 22 and there seemed to be no way out

I had gone back to work and by chance I met a lady on a training course gave me the solution. This was over oou third bottle of wine on the last night of the five day course.

"Many of the women I know who have jobs like ours," she told me. "Use escorts as I have done, but they are too much like a date, you have to talk to them, maybe have dinner and generally provide the location. They are ok if you want to try and play act romance, but if it is just sex you are after and you are comfortable with yourself about acknowledging that there is a better way."

We were at a training centre just outside Manchester and had finished dinner. I had met Margot on the Sunday evening at registration. We had got on well and had lunch and dinner with each other each day. She was from a brewery company and had a similar job to mine.

"You've got your iPad with you haven't you?"

"Yes why?"

"Let me show you something on there."

I logged on and handed it to her. She went into Safari I noticed and typed in an address, waited a moment or two then handed it back to me. I looked at a website that was elegant, stylish and modern in soft colours with nicely constructed phrasing. In essence it was for a massage service for women that promised to provide the 'ultimate erotic experience with the happiest of endings.' It advised that clients could choose a male or female masseur or, have two of each or one of each.

*

It was vaguely ridiculous I knew, but on the Tuesday evening I got ready as if going on a date. I washed and groomed my shoulder-length hair that since my new job I had kept as blonde rather than changing colour every few months. I wore tight, black trousers that were moulded to my hips, bum, stomach and pubic mound like a second skin and a button up white blouse with the top three buttons undone showing some cleavage. I had strappy heels on so that my deep red painted toe nails were on view. Underneath I wore a slither of a thong and a diaphanous white, low cut bra. I felt good, but smiled as I drove down the AI from St Albans towards 'my destiny' in Highgate. 'All this to go for a massage.'

I was far, far more nervous waiting for the big, black door to the house to be opened than I ever had been on a date, but then it was so many years since I had been on one. Greg answered the door and showed me into a room at the back of the house with a nice view over the well-kept garden.

"Welcome back," he said moving over to the window and closing the blinds. 

He was wearing a white tee shirt and blue, track suit trousers that had three white lines down the side. "Thanks," I said nervously having strong second thoughts and wondering whether I could go through with it.

Several times since my last visit on Tuesday I had decided that I would cancel and forget all about it. But then as the sexual frustration built up as it did most evenings, I would change my mind again. On the Thursday I had been in a hotel in Norwich. During the drive up in the morning I had decided I would definitely not go and had held that belief during my back to back meetings. After checking into the hotel at around eight and ordering a room service steak and salad with a half bottle of Merlot, I began to waver as the arousal built up. However, I still thought I would be able to resist going to see Greg even after I had undressed to my bra and panties, sensible businesswoman stuff, and was finishing my meal. I held the same opinion as I removed my bra and logged onto my laptop. I wavered a little more as I stroked my C cup breasts and pinched my prominent nipples. Even when I went onto the porn site that had a huge selection of massage videos I thought I had a good chance of resisting. As I watched a lovely looking girl being massaged by a hunk of a masseur, I had my doubts. When he fingered her and she grabbed his cock I got serious doubts. And when that lovely looking girl and I came at the same time I knew it was futile resisting.

Greg adjusted the lights, asked if it was warm enough and clicked on an iPod filling the room with lovely classical music.

"Ready Cat?"

"Yes."

"Ok would you like a shower?"

"No I had one just twenty minutes ago, thanks."

"Ok well I will leave you to get comfortable," he said handing me a dark blue towel. "Lie on your back on the table and cover up with this and I will be back in a few minutes.

The room was sparsely furnished with a wardrobe in which I hung my clothes, a low cabinet on which there was a number of bottles, a small flamed heater, presumably for heating the oil, a few towels, all dark blue and some jars. It was all very clean and neat and orderly. In the middle of the room was the massage table that I saw was wider than the ones I had used in the spas I had visited; it also had two head holes, presumably for two people to be massaged at the same time.

Undressed almost shaking with nerves I laid down on the table and covered myself with the towel. As I waited for Greg I wondered whether I would be able to relax enough to avoid a repeat of Tuesday's session. I was wondering also just how far he would go in providing 'the ultimate erotic experience' and whether I really would have the 'happiest of endings' as the lovely girl had in the video to which I had masturbated yesterday evening in that hotel in Norwich.

There was a tap at the door and Greg came in. He had changed and was wearing a pair of loose, grey shorts and a singlet, similar to what athletes wear. The shorts had a drawstring round the waist that was tied in a bow at the front. His arms and legs were quite deeply tanned; he looked good. As he stood beside the bed I saw that the shorts seemed to be quite tight for his bulge was quite obvious; that sent a little shudder through me.

"Let's do the back first shall we Cat?"

'Bollocks' I thought realising that I would have to turn over and he would see my nudity. Given what he might be doing to me quite soon this was slightly ridiculous, but Greg, for some reason, played the same game. Lifting the towel from me he turned away thus, averting his gaze from my naked body. Smiling as I turned over and laid on my front, I realised that I was considerably more relaxed this time. I felt him lay the towel back onto me and realised that he must have folded it for it came to about half way between my bottom and my knees. He didn't tuck it in under me, but let it hang down the sides of the table.

He then gave my shoulders and back a wonderful and really, apart from two actions, an excellent 'straight' massage; it was as good as I had experienced at most spas and I almost forgot that I was here for quite a different purpose. The two actions, though, that reminded me why I was here were significant and arousing.

He came and stood at the top of the table with his tummy touching my head and softly massaged my scalp and shoulders. That was lovely, but what made it significant and arousing was that in between doing my scalp and shoulders he would lean forward and massage right down my back to my waist that was just inside the line of the towel. As he did that his body pressed against the top of my head and I felt his bulge.

The other factor that differentiated this from a straight massage was that he took hold of my wrists, lifted my arms and laid them above my head. Then, as he massaged my back so his hands would drift along the sides of both my body and my breasts that were squashed against the bed.

The feelings from both of these actions made me tingle with expectancy

From my previous rather abortive visit I knew his procedure; all masseurs follow a routine and he was no exception. After finishing my back with the pretty straight massage that he livened up with the two intimate moments just to remind or reassure what this was all about he said.

"Ok Cat, the legs now, ok?"

"Yes," I muttered my speech distorted by me having my face squashed into the hole in the table.

He moved away and round the double size table. I had my eyes closed so did not see where he went but deduced his movements by the sounds he made. I knew that he was now at the other end of the table by my feet. I felt his hands rest on each of my ankles and as he had before he pulled my legs apart a little. They were not wide open, but just sufficiently to indicate his intentions of turning up the heat and to enable him to massage the insides of my legs. 

First, though, he did my feet and that I found very erotic. He lifted one and rested the bottom of it on his body, around his waist I guessed. Then massaging both the sole, top and toes he sent shivers of expectation through me; strange I know, but there you go. Putting the first back on the table he lifted the other one and repeated the slow, sensual massage, it was both relaxing and arousing at the same time. Then holding my foot he slowly, or so it seemed ran that down from his waist across his stomach the side of it rubbing against his bulge until it also was on the table.

I felt loads of oil or nuro gel being drizzled onto my legs all the way from just beneath where the towel was laid across them to my ankles. The feel of the warm liquid was lovely. He ran his hands all over my legs easing the oil into my skin in preparation for the massage. Then just like last time he gave firstly my calves and then my upper legs a straight fairly firm massage; he really was very good and I enjoyed that.

Then, of course, things had to change and his hands started going under the towel and further up my legs until after a few minutes of tantalising near misses he pushed them all the way and onto the cheeks of my bottom. By doing that his wrists took the towel with them and I knew that I was laying there with my butt bare and my puffed up, soaking wet pussy lips open to his view. He then massaged each cheek at the same time rather vigorously at first, but then slower and gentler as he kneaded the soft, pliant flesh of my arse. Now, of course he went further. Several times his hand slid into the crease between my cheeks and up onto my waist. Then when they returned downwards his fingers pressed against my anal hole before sliding between my legs along the length of my lips. As he did that so my entire body reacted just as it had previously when I had cum hard and long and that had finished the session. I was more prepared this time and although I was near to a climax I managed to hang on until eventually his hands went back down my legs and concentrated on the back of them and my thighs.

"I don't think we need this any more do we Cat?"

"What, sorry?" I muttered having no idea what he was talking about until he laid the towel that had been, to an extent, preserving my modesty, on the table beside my arm. I realised then, rather stupidly, that I was lying on his massage table naked, with my legs open, my lips soaking wet and my body receiving a minor orgasm from him.

"No, no I guess we don't."

"Why don't you turn over now then?"

This time there was no pretence, no charade and no making out this was straight. As I rolled over I saw his eyes devouring my body and, I realised, I loved it.

"You have got great tits Cat," he said pouring the oil onto and between them.

Rather lamely I replied. "Thank you," as I watched his hands slowly move towards them.

Last time we had not got this far so I was now moving into uncharted waters.

Standing beside the bed he placed both hands on my chest mid-way between my breasts and my waist. Looking right into my eyes he moved both hands upwards further and further until he was cupping both orbs in his hands. He paused and waited a moment with both of my tits pushed together, almost as if he was waiting for my agreement, which I guess he was really. If ever I gave a tacit agreement this was it for my showing no resistance, doing nothing to deter him and simply laying there my arms by my sides I was agreeing to his suggestion that he should massage my tits. And boy did he do that; it was wonderful.

Given the nature of what I was doing, paying to have a happy ending massage, I could not believe the intensity of the feelings Greg was giving me. I hardly liked to acknowledge that they were as strong if not stronger and more extreme than I get when I have made love to men I thought I loved. 

I couldn't look at him, though. Looking into his eyes felt too personal and intimate. I didn't want that, I didn't want affection even of the type many women persuade themselves they experience with, say, a one night stand. No this was driven by one thing and one thing only, my need for sexual fulfilment. So I closed my eyes tightly and simply let the wonderful sensations his stroking, caressing, pinching, pulling and squeezing of my full breasts and hugely hardened nipples wash over me.

Of course I have had my breasts caressed, of course they have been stroked and squeezed, cupped and pinched, but until now they had not been massaged and what an experience this was turning out to be. Standing beside the table level with my hips Greg was leaning forward massaging both orbs at once. His thumbs were spread out from his fingers with the former gliding quite firmly up the inside of each breast and his fingers sliding along the outsides. Starting at just above my waist, they moved slowly up my glistening skin, onto each breast and then bringing his thumbs and forefingers together he pinched each nipple and then pulled on it. It really was heaven.

I was sighing and my head was rolling slightly from side to side. My eyes were closed and my mouth was open as I gasped for breath. I was clenching the paper and the sheet on the bed and my back was slightly arched. I knew that I was in the early, actually not quite so early stages of my orgasm. It had been a long, long time since I had cum purely from having my breasts stimulated.

Then annoyingly, but in some ways as a relief his hand s left my breasts. His timing was perfect for that stopped me cumming, but held me at that wonderful place just below the extreme of an orgasm. He had taken me up the mountainside and now held me just before the peak. When a lover can get a woman into that state it is fabulous.

Standing to my right, he poured more oil onto my legs from my hips to my knees and started on them. Beginning at my knee on my right leg his fingers dug into my muscles a little, but nowhere near the pressure that I was used at a spa, and slowly slid upwards. Again as he had when he massaged my breasts his thumb worked either, the top or one side of my leg and his fingers the other. He had parted my legs a little way so that he had no problem with his fingers getting access to my inner thigh. My heart was pounding when stupidly so late I realised that by doing that he had no problem also with visual access to my most woman places. My pubes that I had trimmed into a neat landing strip were clearly on show and my pussy lips, which were glistening my arousal by their wetness would be like a beacon to his gaze. But strangely in these circumstances it did not seem to matter. It seemed almost inconsequential to worry about the fact that I was lying naked on a double size massage table as a stranger looked at my most intimate places. I guess that was how I was supposed to think, how women who pay for sex need to think how women who do what I was doing need to act and believe if they are to get what they seek and that is no strings, no attachment and no tomorrow sexual relief.

He moved round the table to my other leg. He poured even more oil so that, I thought to myself almost giggling, my legs are outglistening my pussy!

Nearly all this time I had my eyes closed. I did not want to look at him or to register visually what I was paying him to do to me. It was almost as if he was a machine that I had turned on and would switch off when it had served its purpose and that, of course, was to give me relief, to satisfy me and to give me the powerful orgasm or orgasms my body demanded.

Instinctively and from experience, he knew what I wanted and needed and that now was the time for that. He had seen and evaluated my every move and gesture, he had assessed my eye and mouth movements and the way my fingers were gripping the paper protecting the bed from the oil and he had watched my body squirming and my bottom lifting from the bed. He had done all of that because that was his job, that was how he earned his living and how he persuaded women like me to return to him, some of them I learned later, time and time again.

So this time as he massaged me, as he is supposed to towards my heart and that is up my legs, up my thighs, towards my groins and stomach and yes, where it was just dawning on me I wanted them to be, towards my cunt. And as I lay there waiting to receive his hands and fingers I knew that was my destiny, my ultimate objective and that my mind 'saying' the c word was exactly what I needed to do.

But then on one upward sweep he did not stop as he had on others, but he went on, he continued his journey and yes he let his fingers slide along the length of my lips until they found my clit. He pressed and rubbed that as near perfectly as it had ever been pressed and rubbed before. It was as though I had been struck by lightning. My whole body jerked and I could not stop myself grunting almost animalistically and moaning. "Oh my god."

"Ok Cat?" He asked squeezing my breasts with hand and rubbing, my clit with the other.

'Ok,' I thought. 'Ok, fucking ok it was marvellous.'

"Yes Greg, yes it is," I moaned.

It really was the most amazingly erotic situation I had experienced. The combination of lying naked on a massage table, buying sexual relief from a man almost young enough to be my son as he caressed and stroked my pussy and my tits was such a powerful aphrodisiac that I, quite naturally I suppose, started to cum.




My Happy Ending Massage



This happened around 10 years ago. A friend of mine had been to a massage parlour in London and had told me what a good time he had, though it transpired from later conversation that he had not had sex. After weeks of confused thinking, shall I or shant I and plucking up the courage I decided to go.

I was worried about a number of aspects of visiting such a place with getting caught and my wife and family finding out being the main one. In addition there was the stigma I felt of 'paying for it,' the worry over what it and she would be like and the health issues also playing their parts. 

Eventually I plucked up the courage and went along full of nerves and trepidation.

I had to ring a buzzer and wait for the door to be opened and that made me even more nervous. However, inside it was clean and tidy with some pop music, probably a radio playing. The receptionist was about my age, mid-thirties at the time was neatly dressed, very friendly and efficient. She handed me a laminated card that listed the services and asked what I wanted. What I actually wanted, sex, was not listed, of course. 

"Er how do you mean?" I rather ridiculously asked.

Smiling she said. "Well how long do you want, thirty or forty five minutes or an hour, or you can have VIP that includes being bathed by the masseuse and champagne with the massage."

Being bathed by a girl, though sounding exciting was I thought a little ambitious for my first time and I certainly did not want the champagne.

"Er just an hour perhaps?"

"Yes that will be fine, that's fifty pounds. Would you like to pamper yourself and perhaps have two girls?"

"I would love to, but as it's my first time I won't be greedy," I replied.

"Well save that as a treat for next time," she said smiling and handing me a towel as she added. "And in case we only have one lady working this afternoon."

The idea of being bathed by a masseuse or having two girls assuming they got it on with each other was very tempting. However, I knew that I would be hellishly nervous and that could easily lead to the dreaded premature ejaculation so I avoided anything more adventurous than an hour massage.

She showed me to a well-appointed room that had a shower in the corner and a double sized massage table.

"Unfortunately we only have Andrea working today so James I cannot offer you a choice, but she is lovely and very er friendly; I am sure you will not be disappointed."

"Thanks," I mumbled as she turned and left saying.

"She will be here in just a moment or two," and she was.

I was amazed and very pleasantly surprised. I had not been expecting to have an extremely attractive woman and had been worried that she might be fat, ugly and dirty. She was none of those. Best guess is she was late twenties and was a redhead wearing a white uniform, a coat like doctors wear, which came mid-thigh; she had nice legs. It fitted her tightly across her ample breasts and slightly oversized hips and bottom and gaped a little at the buttons. She had very sexy, lovely white teeth, big blue, almond-shaped eyes, and voluptuous lips that it was very easy to imagine being round my cock. I could not tell for sure at this stage, but she looked to have nice breasts. If anything, she was on the plump side and certainly she was not skinny, which suits me down to the ground. To be honest I doubt that I could have got a more suitable masseuse even if I had a wide choice.

She introduced herself as Andrea, and asked how long I had booked for. I told her an hour and she smiled and said. "Good we will have plenty of time and won't have to rush anything will we?" As she said that she gazed right into my eyes sending shudders of desire through me. She asked me to undress and take a shower and told me she would be back in five minutes.

I was not quite sure what to do after drying myself. Should I lie on the table or sit on it, wrap the towel round me or remain naked. Andrea solved my quandary by returning just as I finished drying myself.

"Ready James?"

"Yes Andrea I am."

Taking the towel from me and glancing at my slight erection she nodded and smiled knowingly.

"Ok luv, on your front first. Oil or powder?"

"What?"

"Do you want me to use oil or powder?"

I had no idea really, but as I had used oil to jerk off and I had rubbed into my wife's breasts a few times as part of our lovemaking, I asked for that.

She began on my shoulders and neck. I was in fairly good nick from five-a-side football and lots of tennis and she began with long strokes on the back of my arms to my wrists, then extensive shoulder work. I would guess this went on for five minutes with her standing at my head and massaging me over my head. She had a lovely smell and I was intoxicated by her. As she worked my back she asked me if the pressure was ok and I kind of mumbled it was fine' already I was becoming turned on. She moved round the table and began on my lower back. She moved onto my calfs, the backs of my knees, lower thighs and the soles of my feet after. After I stopped leaping around due to being ticklish, which she found amusing, I found the foot massage very stimulating mainly because she rested my feet on her hips.

She then worked more on my thighs and this is when I became fully stiff, which was most awkward when lying on it! I solved it partially by raising one knee that lifted my stomach off the bed a little way. Seeing that, I think she sensed that I was hard for her fingers slid down my side, around my hip bone and just into the gap between that and the bed. They touched the tip of my dick, which made my body jerk and made me grunt.

She asked if I would like to turn over. Oh no I thought, this is too fucking embarrassing for words. I have a generous sized cock, around seven inches and a thick girth. Being uncircumcised it is not easily hidden when fully erect and naked on that bed there was no hiding place.

Anyway, I kind of shuffled round and lay back with my eyes closed tightly. Feeling her hands lifting my head I opened my eyes and saw that she was holding a small pillow. I watched her as she put it under my head and saw that she made no obvious signs of looking at my cock, but it must have been very noticeable. She asked if I was ok, I said yes so she started back on my upper chest and neck area. 

Slowly she worked down my chest and actually spent time on my nipples and upper stomach. I am fairly hairy so the oil was becoming matted in the hairs on my chest hence, she spent a long time on this part of my body. My eyes were closed again and I was in heaven at the touch of her hands and fingers. I was probably breathing heavier now, which she must have picked up on as she worked slowly down to my stomach. She didn't massage that but ran what felt like the back of her fingernails over it, into my groin and onto my upper thigh. They went so close to my erection and even closer to my balls and again my body tingled and I groaned with pleasure and anticipation.

Then she moved to my legs. Starting at my ankles and working up gradually she spent time on my calf muscles and strangely my knees. When she went further up she worked hard on the bigger muscles going quite deeply into them as do straight masseurs. As she went further upwards I was now fully erect and couldn't give a damn about it, in fact I was getting a kick from flaunting it at her; deep down I am probably an exhibitionist. Now I wanted her hands on me, I wanted her to stroke it and rub it. 

I was now squirming on the table and she clearly knew that so she stopped in mid flow. I opened my eyes, and she said.

"Ok James?"

"Oh yes Andrea, very ok."

"You enjoying it, is it good?"

"Yes I am and yes it is good, very good," I mumbled.

Looking pointedly at my hard on she said with a smile. "Will you be requiring extras?"

"What's on the menu?" I asked dying to shove my hand up her short, white coat.

She said " I can lock the door and we can have fun. This will cost you more, are you aware of that?"

I said sure, and how much. She told me it was twenty five pounds for hand relief, fifty for a blow job and a hundred for sex.

"Will you be naked?"

"Not for the hand relief or blow job, but I could," she said smiling. "Be persuaded to undo these," as she undid the buttons on her coat.

She rested her fingertips on my cock and said. "So what's it to be big boy?"

"Lets go for the naked sex," I said sliding my arm round her and slipping my hand up the coat and onto her fulsome bum; she did nothing to make me move it. "Can I cum on these?" I asked lifting her breasts.

She said of course and walked to the door and locked it. She turned and came back to the table removing her tunic as she walked. Standing close to me she stripped down to her bra and pants. Although she indeed was a little overweight with a slightly bulging tummy, she had great tits and in my aroused state she looked amazing, truly amazing. 

With a big smile, she then said. "Ok let's rock ", and grasped my cock and rubbed it slowly. I lay back as she stroked it and cupped my balls and rolled them around. "This is lovely," she said referring to my erection. "It's so lovely I am going to throw in a blow job for free if you want one."

Andrea then asked me to open my eyes and unclip her bra, which amazingly I managed first time. She turned round and her tits were all I had imagined, nice size, firm and big pink, erect nipples. She bent over the table and fed her nipples one at a time into my mouth whilst holding my cock. She began to stroke me and wank me slowly as I fed my mouth on her tits. I put my hand on her thigh then worked round to the front of her pants. I would love to say she was dripping wet but she wasn't, however I rubbed her crotch as she now cradled my balls and played with them like two eggs.

I got my hands under the hem of her pants and worked my hand in, she was entirely smooth and I found her slit with my index finger. She allowed me to play with her pussy for a minute or two then she stood up. She took her panties off and stood before me naked, flaunting her body at me

"You like?" she asked still softly rubbing my cock.

"Jesus you are beautiful," I croaked.

"Ok," she said smiling. "I need to suck that cock. You can finger me whilst I suck you but please do not touch my arse, I just don't do that."

"Fine," I replied as she turned sideways with her bum facing me as she sunk my cock into her mouth. She licked the top, pressed the tip of her tongue against the hole and then ran it down my length and onto and around my balls. I was likely oozing pre cum by now and she twirled her tongue round the end, pulling my foreskin back. She then slowly ran her mouth all the way down my cock and sucked my balls, I simply adore that. As she was bending over slightly and her legs were apart I found her pussy quite easily and slid two fingers up her. She was becoming moist now and I worked her folds and found her clit at the top. She did moan a little then, despite her mouth being full of me at the same time. She deep throated me, which was my first time ever, what an amazing experience! She was now wet and I began finger fucking her. I pushed another finger against her cunt and that went in easily so I quickened my pace. She had now moved her mouth and was kissing my cock and just sucking the end of it; from my limited experience I would have said she was a star at oral.

She looked round at me and said. "You ready."

I nodded. She turned her head away, put her hand to her mouth and then bent over me and took my cock in her mouth again. I could hardly believe that she had slid a condom onto me with her mouth

She lifted herself up on the table and straddled me facing away from me. I cupped the full cheeks of her arse as she hovered above me and guided my cock to her pussy lips, rotated slightly then sunk down on it to the hilt. She started to fuck by slowly lifting her arse up and then sinking back down, I was thrusting upwards and we found a rhythm. We fucked like that for a few minutes with me slamming into her as she rode me. Amazingly agilely she managed to rotate her body without taking me out.

"You can play with these now," she said leaning forward and grazing her tits over my face. "Tell me when you are near."

She fucked me harder in this position and it was not long before I felt the first tell-tale signs of my impending orgasm. I told her that I was ready. Quickly easing herself off me she said.

"Cum on my tits then," as she pulled the condom off, slid down the bed and held her tits together. I wriggled so that I was above them and as she cupped my balls I wanked myself until streams of cum shot onto her full tits.

I collapsed backwards as she eased herself upright and drew breath . I wanted to lick her pussy but decided against asking. After a few minutes rest I composed myself enough to stand, and get dressed as she showered. 

"Why not try two girls next time James, Cindy and I are very, very friendly," she said.

"Hmmm why not," I smiled as she kissed me on the cheek and showed me out.



My Happy Ending Massage



Wonderfully, Greg knew exactly what to do and that was not to let the wave of passion and sensation explode over me, but instead to keep it contained just beneath top of the barrier holding it back. Surge after surge of such lovely feeling engulfed me. I felt so, oh how the hell can I describe the feelings, sexual I suppose sums them up. I am not quite sure what that implies, but I had never felt so into sex, so focused on my pleasure and so concentrated on taking all I could from what he was doing. Never in my sexually aware and active life had I felt myself so dedicated to achieving as much excitement, pleasure and satisfaction from sex as I was then. I think that knowing it was just for me, that no one else was really involved and that everything going on was for my pleasure and not 'ours' as it usually is added to the extreme and intense sensations and emotions I was experiencing.

As he continued holding me just beneath 'explosion' point so my mind focused even more on my own pleasure.

He was standing beside me on my left side. Even though my eyes were still tightly closed I knew that his body was just inches from mine. His right hand was doing the most fantastic things to my left breast and nipple and his left hand was between my legs, on and in the lips of my pussy and pressing and squeezing my clit. I opened my eyes, but did not look at his face as I did not want to hold his gaze. Was that due to shame or embarrassment, I had no real idea? And in any case in my extremely sexually agitated state there was another place I wanted to see and that was just inches from my left arm. I felt an odd sense of pride when I saw that his bulge had changed shape and now the very clear signs of his erection was rearing up his stomach inside the tight shorts. 'I have done that' I smiled as without thinking or even seeking his permission, my hand, as if with a mind of its own, lifted slowly up and my fingers found that beautiful shape inside his shorts. As I touched him, Grant seemed to push himself forward a little, invitingly or encouragingly, I thought. I gripped it more firmly and rubbed it. I could not remember a cock feeling so incredibly arousing as his did right at that moment.

Closing my eyes again I lay there as he squeezed my breasts and fingered me while I ran my hand up and down his glorious length. Nothing was said, there was no need for words. We were doing exactly what the service he offered had promised yes, we were doing exactly what it said on the tin; 'having the ultimate erotic experience' with, I hoped now, 'the happiest of endings.'

My inhibitions had gone. I was totally into and committed to this strange, but now I acknowledged wonderful form of sex. I wanted it to continue, to go on and to go further.

I opened my eyes, lifted up and supporting myself with my left elbow I brought both hands to the drawstring on his shorts. I held the bow and looked up at him and went to say something, but there was no need. He smiled and nodded giving me the permission I needed to undo the tie. With the waist now loose it was an easy task to get my hands inside his shorts and to find and grasp what had become the prime object of my desires, his cock. It is only at times like this when I am up close and personal to one that I feel able to use the term 'a beautiful penis,' but at that moment that is exactly what I felt about Greg's.

Totally unselfconsciously now, I spread my legs further giving him the easier access he needed to finger fuck me as at the same time I rubbed and stroked his glorious cock. I lifted myself further and kissed it, he tasted and smelt wonderful. In my sexually delirious state I wanted more, I had no inhibitions, no restrictions and no concerns over the morals of what I was doing. 

His fingering of my pussy increased in speed as at the same time his other hand moved down my body and rubbed my clit. The combination of the sensations sent me over the top. My orgasm crashed over me and I came near to screaming with erotic delight. I didn't, but deep moans, grunts, sighs and ecstatic groans escaped from my mouth as I clamped my thighs round his pleasure giving hand. I arched my back and my bottom lifted from the bed as wave after wave of orgasmic delights surged through me.

It went on longer than usual. My body was shuddering and shaking; I was gripping his cock and pressing it against my face as I licked it whilst he held the three fingers he had been fucking me with rigid inside me.

"That was wonderful Cat," he said slipping an arm round me and cuddling me as he so considerately comforted me on my way down from the peak of my climax. Even then, little shudders and spasms of sensation made me tremble and groan my pleasure.

"Yes Greg, it was," I replied extricating myself from his embrace as my mind resumed it's more normal way of thinking. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome Cat, any time."

"I will be back," I told him.

"And next time Cat we can go further if you wish?"

"Further?"

"Yes next time I will cum for you Cat, I will cum anywhere you want me to."



My Happy Ending



Over the next few weeks things got both better and worse around the department. My guys had a lot of experience, but Darrell's education was not only more complete, it was more recent. I'd done the best I could to keep up with all of the latest trends but I found him showing me new concepts and new techniques for some of the things we'd done for decades.

 Darrell and I became friendly and often had lunch together. He was a really nice guy and he was also someone I could talk to. Like me, he was the kind of guy who took pride in doing everything he did to the best of his abilities. There were too many people in our company and in my department who tried to get by doing the bare minimum. I had very little respect for people like that. I figured that Darrell would make my remaining few years before I retired a lot easier because he was the kind of person that I could give a project to and just watch him run with it. I wouldn't have to constantly look over his shoulder to make sure things were done correctly.

 Over several months, my first impressions turned out to be true. I did find myself giving Darrell more and more of the important projects and giving lesser assignments to the guys who'd actually been there longer.

 I also noticed that most of the staff had gotten used to Darrell and he fit in well. There were, unfortunately, a few of the older members of the staff that still had issues. Those issues were more and more of a sticking point when it became obvious that Darrell was probably the front runner to replace me despite his lack of seniority. Some of the more small minded members of the staff used everything they could think of to point out why he shouldn't be.

 I heard the term age discrimination thrown around. I heard about the fairness of promoting based solely on seniority. Of course, no one mentioned the racial thing, but they also never mentioned the fact that he worked tirelessly and he put forth a great deal of effort towards making every project he did the best it could be when others were simply phoning the jobs in.

 At home, things were progressing even better, or so I thought. My daughter, Paige, was about to graduate from college and would be getting married next year in the spring. My son, Bruce, had gone into the air force and was stationed in Japan. According to all of his most recent emails, he too had fallen in love and might be getting hitched if he and his fiancé could leap all of the hurdles for service men who wanted to marry foreign nationals.

 My wife, Amanda, had been looking forward to our retirement as eagerly as I had. In fact, she was all set to retire the day that I did, even though she'd only have enough time in on her job for a partial pension.

 "Our careers are just that Honey," she always said. "They're OUR careers. We've both been working for the same thing, so we quit at the same time and we travel together and live out our lives together. I know that we probably won't die on the same day, but if you die first; I won't live for much longer."

 God, I was such a sucker. When she said things like that, I had no doubt of her love for me. We both thought the exact same thing. Our version of a happy ending in life was for us to be two old people sitting on the porch together watching the sun set both figuratively and literally on our lives together. We wanted to watch our grand kids and tell them about all of the places we'd gone and the things we'd done. Money didn't really matter to us; we just wanted to share the good times in life. That was our version of a happy ending.

 So, the day that we had the talk was a shock to me. I'd just come in from a run and Amanda's friend Marge was leaving. I wasn't sure how I felt about Marge. She was okay looking in that slightly chunky suburban wife sort of way. But I just had no feelings one way or the other about her. Some of the things that she said from time to time made me feel weird.

 I'd noticed that Amanda was walking around and just hadn't been acting like herself lately and usually it started after a visit from Marge.

 "Rence, can we talk?" asked Amanda. She was wringing her hands so I knew that she was nervous about something.

 "When was there a time when we couldn't?" I asked.

 "Well, this is really different, Honey," she said. "It's about something that you may not like."

 I didn't say anything, I just nodded.

 "Well," she began. "Right now is a very exciting time in our lives. Everything we've been planning since our twenties is coming true. Our kids are grown and we did a great job with them. We're financially secure and we don't have a lot of debts like some couples. We're blessed. We're about to give ourselves a gift that most people will never have the chance to receive. We're going to spend a few years exploring the world and traveling to places that we've only dreamed of. We'll have time to really see and do anything we have interests in. It's going to be great."

 I looked at her strangely. "Isn't that what we wanted?" I asked. "I don't get it. It's what we've talked about for more than twenty years. Have you changed your mind?"

 "Of course not, Honey," she said. "That's exactly what I want. I'm looking forward to it. It probably means more to me than it does to you. I just need to be ready for it so I can fully appreciate it."

 Again I just looked at her. "So what you're saying is that you want to work for a few years more than we've planned?" I asked.

 "No Rence," she snapped. "You're not listening to me. Shit, this is hard. I'd quit working today if I could. You like your job. You love what you do. I just go to work to give me something to do while you aren't home. I get lonely here in the house when you're not around."

 "So you want to quit working now so you can be ready?" I asked.

 "God damn it Rence, will you listen to me? Don't say a word, just listen!" she snapped. I didn't say a word. I didn't even nod. I just looked at her. She licked her lips and looked at me.

 "Rence, I'm forty five years old. You and I have been married since I was twenty. When we first got together, I was almost untouched. Well...actually except for some kissing and fondling I hadn't done anything sexual with anyone. So anyway, before we go about exploring the world and all of that stuff, I'd like to spend some time exploring myself. There are things about me that I don't really know or understand. So I've just been wondering what it would be like to have sex with someone other than you."

 She stopped and looked at me. My face remained neutral. She was wondering whether or not I'd heard her but in actuality, like most engineers, I'd gone into work mode. What engineers basically do is solve problems. We use math and physics and any other required sciences to manipulate the factors in a problem and find a solution. As I sat there and looked at Amanda, trying to get her words straight, my mind was weighing all the factors."

 "Marge's husband gave her a few get out of jail free cards," she said. "They give either one of the partners two or three times to just go out and do something. It's a way to try out some things that they may have been wondering about without endangering their marriage. I guess it's more about trust and faith than anything else. He's secure enough in their relationship that he trusts her to try out something so she doesn't go to her grave wondering. He has enough faith in her love for him to know that she's not going to go off and fall in love with some other guy. It has nothing to do with love. It's only sex."

 "It wouldn't have anything to do with the way we feel about each other, it would just be exploration," she said. It was so quiet in the house then that you could hear a pin drop. She looked at me nervously. I just stared at her. My mind was working a mile a minute. I knew what was going on. I figured that her stupid friend had put this idea in her head. And I knew that this was serious for us. If I told her she couldn't do it, she'd resent me. I'd be the one who stopped her from having her fun. Or I'd be the asshole who didn't have as much faith in her as her friend's husband did. She'd probably go ahead and do it behind my back.

 The one big thought going through my mine then was, "So much for my happy ending."

 I knew that no matter how this ended up, Amanda and I would never be the same again. Our marriage was pretty much over. It was just a question of how it would end. I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with anyone who couldn't be faithful to me. The way I saw it, the only thing I could do was use this as a test.

 "Rence, you haven't said a word," she said.

 "You told me not to," I said.

 "Well, what do you think?" she asked. I looked straight at her. I looked at the woman I'd loved for more than twenty fucking years. I knew every line in her face. I knew every stretch mark and pocket of cellulite on her body. I'd dreamed for so long of nothing but spending the rest of my life with this woman. We'd been there for each other through thick and thin. Through times of hardship and sorrow, we'd supported each other and shared our dreams. We'd raised our kids together and put up a united front to make sure that they turned out right and strong and independent. I guess I'd come to believe all the shit that we said about the two of us being one. I had to wrap my head around the possibility that we wouldn't be that way any longer. This was a crossroads for us, our family and our marriage. I realized it even if she didn't.

 "Do it," I said.

 "What?" she said.

 "If this is really something you need, just do it and get it over with," I said.

 "Thank you honey," she said smiling. "You don't know how much your faith in me means to me."

 She reached out and tried to hug me but I pushed her away.

 "Rence, don't act like that," she said. "I already told you this is just sex. I love you. I just want to try it with someone else. It won't mean anything."

 "I'm going out to run," I said.

 "But Honey you just got back," she said.

 "Running relaxes me and lets me think," I told her. "I need to relax and think." I turned away from her and walked back out the door and down the path leading away from our house. I jogged over to the woods that bordered our property and started running faster.

 As I ran through the trails that I had run so many times that I knew them like the back of my hand, I knew how this would end.

 I told Amanda in my head all the things I'd wanted to say to her then.

 "You were everything, everything that I wanted."

 "We were meant to be, supposed to be but we lost it."

 "All of the memories so close to me, just fade away."

 "All this time you were pretending. So much for my happy ending."

  *  *  *  *  *  *

  Amanda

  I remember when I spoke to Rence about letting me try another man. Marge had told me that she was seeing a guy who just lit up her world. She said that the things they did were so much better than anything she did with her husband that there was no comparison. I wasn't sure that was possible, but she told me it was. She told me that like a lot of women, I was in a rut and didn't even know it.

  We looked at a lot of porn on the internet and she showed me some of the things that people did. We read articles about women who had affairs with all types of men and were free to explore themselves and their sexuality. I did envy some of them the sense of freedom they had.

  As the weeks went on, I began to see what she was talking about. Rence and I were very comfortable together. Our sex life wasn't very adventurous. I'd always been satisfied before, maybe it was just Marge's insistence that everyone else was getting something that I wasn't. I actually began to wonder what it would be like to have sex with another man.

  Marge always came back from her sessions glowing. She talked about the raw animal sexuality of it and how her younger lover could go for a far longer time than her husband. Truthfully, I didn't understand any of that. Rence always made me cum and I didn't see the value or the benefit of having sex for over an hour. But the smile on her face and the satisfied look on her face just made me want to try it.

  When I told her about it, we began to hatch a plan to get me to try it once, just so I could see what was going on.

  We decided that I was going to tell Rence that Marge's husband had let her do it. Then Marge would back me up and tell Rence how much better their marriage was after doing it. She was going to tell him how much more she loved her husband and much more secure they were since they weren't together just for sex. The thing that surprised me after my conversation with Rence was over was that I didn't need Marge to help. Rence had just decided to go along with it. No questions asked. He didn't put any stipulations on it or anything. He just said, "Do it."

  The next day, when I told Marge about that, she looked troubled. "Are you sure your marriage is okay?" she asked me.

  "What do you mean?" I asked, looking at her.

  "Well your husband just agreed without a fight to just let you fuck someone else," she said. "Maybe he doesn't love you as much as you think. "

"Maybe he's just secure in our relationship like I told him," I said.

"Or maybe, he's thinking that if you can go out and fuck someone else, he can too. He's probably got some hot little secretary all picked out. Or maybe he's already fucking her," she said.

"Do you think that's possible?" I asked.

She nodded her head. "Amanda, your husband has a nice body and he's a good looking man. I'm sure women at his job are always dropping hints. That secretary of his, that young Latin woman would probably be all over him in a heartbeat."

I suddenly saw red. I was pissed because Marge had never brought any of that up. I really didn't like the idea of Rence fucking some younger woman. With my body starting to sag and distort, I knew that Rence loved me; he always had. But the chance to have sex with some tight bodied younger woman whose vagina hadn't been stretched out by having two kids would be hard for him to pass by. What if he didn't want me anymore after it?

"I have an idea," said Marge. "Why not tell him that you're going to do it Saturday night. Then we'll actually do it tonight while he's playing his Thursday night golf league. Then tomorrow just tell him that you've changed your mind and you don't want to do it. That way you can have your cake and eat it too. You're not cheating on him because he gave you permission. Then after you've done it you tell him you don't want to. The added benefit is that if you ever decide to do it again, even if you get caught, you can always just tell him that he'd given you permission and you just wanted to try it. On the other hand, if he doesn't think you're doing it, he can't very well go out and screw his secretary."

It sounded better than anything I'd come up with. And truthfully, I'd been considering just calling it off. I did have that curiosity, but somehow in the back of my mind something was screaming for me not to do it.

For one thing, every time we talked, Marge told me how boring her sex life with her husband was and how they almost never had sex anymore. I wasn't even sure she loved her husband anymore either. But Rence and I still had sex at least every other night and my main curiosity was just finding out if sex with someone else could be better than what we had, because our sex life was so good. At least I thought it was. But then I wouldn't know any better because I'd only done it with Rence.

I did want to get this over with though because ever since we'd had that talk, Rence and I hadn't spoken much. We were still together but we hadn't had sex since the talk and it just seemed like he was avoiding me. It was as if he didn't want to even speak to me until this whole thing was over and it hurt. Last night I'd rolled over near him in bed and he'd rolled out of the bed trying to move away from me. He didn't even eat breakfast with me this morning.

When he got home that evening, he was so frosty it hurt me. "Honey what would you like for dinner?" I asked him.

"Food is fine," he said, walking right past me and going into his gym. We used to always sit and cuddle for a while when he first got home and talk about what we'd done during the day. We hadn't done that since the talk either.

"I was thinking about maybe grilling some steaks and sitting out on the deck to watch the moon and the stars," I said smiling at him. I knew that Rence loved to sit out on our deck with his arms around me and just watch the night time sky. He loved that more than he did watching television. In fact, he'd put in a fire pit so we could do it in the winter even when there was snow on the ground.

"Sorry," he said. "I brought home a bunch of papers that I really have to look at."

"Rence, you haven't touched me in over a fucking week," I snapped angrily. "We haven't ever gone this long without having sex unless one of us was sick."

"Amanda, you're wrong," he said. "There were two times when we went almost six weeks without it."

"Fuck you Rence. I'd just given birth to our kids then. And you made up for it when the doctors said we could again," I smiled. "You more than made up for it."

We looked at each other and smiled again. I wondered then if I was making a mistake.

"Look, we both know what the reason here is," he said. "Maybe we should just look at this as a break from us until your little adventure is over. That way you won't have thoughts of what we used to do in your mind so you'll be free to just explore this the way you want to," he said.

"Rence, I'm doing this Saturday, so there's no reason we can't do something together after you play golf tonight. I'll take a long shower and get all nice and clean for you. We can just grill our food and relax on our deck and see what happens," I noticed that his face dropped a bit when I said I was doing it Saturday. For the first time, I realized how much the thought of what I wanted to do was hurting him. I realized then that he really did love me a lot to let me do this. If I'd had half a brain I would have just canceled it then. But my curiosity got the better of me. Besides, it would be over tonight anyway and he'd never have to know about it. Then I started to wonder; what if I liked it? What if another man really was better?

Rence grabbed his golf clubs and headed out to the club. I was a lot nervous and a little bit pissed. He didn't even kiss me goodbye. I reached up to try to kiss him myself and he'd moved his face away. Then I remembered that he hadn't kissed me since that conversation over a week before.

Maybe he deserved what I was going to do. He was acting like a spoiled little boy. I was a full grown woman and I could do anything with my body that I wanted to. He didn't own me, he just married me.

Almost as soon as Rence left, a car pulled up in our driveway. It was a late model Chrysler, a Charger I think.

Marge got out of the passenger side. She opened the rear door and a man got out. He was about our age and on the thinner side. He was nowhere near as good looking as Rence. I started to have second thoughts about it then.

The driver got out and he was huge. He was also younger than any of us and he was also a black guy. He was beautiful.

Marge knocked on the door and they all came into my house. We went outside to the back and had a few drinks.

After a while, we seemed to have paired off.. I was with Paul, the thin white guy and Marge with the black guy. She said his name was Dee. He was the guy she was always talking about. She really liked him. She whispered to me not to tell him that she was married. That was the last I remembered talking to her before things started to happen.




My Happy Ending



Paul started to feel on me. He didn't ask or anything, it was like it was already a foregone conclusion that he was getting some pussy. I had changed and put on a skirt and his hand was already under it. It just felt wrong. I had a couple of more drinks and just let him do it. His dick was a lot smaller than my husband's and he just started humping away at me.

He was sweating and grunting and squeezing my breasts and if he hadn't licked my pussy to get me wet, I wouldn't have known anything was going on. I smiled and Paul mistook my smile for pleasure for enjoyment.

"You like that baby, don't you," he said.

"Yep," I laughed. Realistically, I was barely even aroused. What I liked was finding out that sex with Rence was so much better than this that it couldn't be compared. When he was done, I wanted to scream out in both my joy and my frustration. Why was I so happy that my husband was better? Had I doubted it? I guess I had.

Then I heard the screams coming from Marge and Dee. He was pounding her like a drum. There was sweat glistening on his muscular body and she was thrusting her pussy up to meet him and begging him to cum inside of her. She was telling him that she loved him over and over again.

My curiosity started all over again. I went over to them. I looked at my watch and realized that we had at least two or three hours before Rence came home. I watched as the man changed positions and started fucking Marge from the back. I called it fucking because that's what it was. He just slammed himself into her with no regard for her at all. He treated her like a whore while she swore she loved it. She was having orgasm after orgasm and he didn't let up.

Finally she couldn't take any more and she pushed him away. He was still hard and his dick was bigger than Rence's. Not by a huge degree but it was bigger.

"Why don't you try him out?" said Marge. "I'll let him do you once but remember, he's mine."

I knew that this was really what this whole thing was about. Paul had been a waste of my time. I got onto the lounge chair where Marge had been and Dee hovered over me. He pushed his dick into my pussy that thankfully was still wet from Paul's sperm. He had no technique. He didn't tease me. He just slammed it into me. And unlike with Paul I felt it. Jeezus I felt it. His first slam buried that big dick in me up to his balls and I knew that I was in trouble. I had never had anything that big in me before and it hurt. He just kept fucking me. After a few minutes my pussy got used to the size but I realized that this wasn't sex the way I knew it.

There was no emotional attachment here. This man wasn't trying to make himself a part of me. He was just trying to rub one out and using my body to do it. As I looked into his eyes, I saw no recognition at all. I was just a pussy to him. I was just some old white woman to fuck like a piece of meat until he sprayed his semen all inside me or all over me. I closed my eyes and wished for it to end.

He was grunting and started fucking me even harder. I felt tears coming into my eyes. What the fuck was I doing and what the fuck was wrong with Marge that she enjoyed this. I couldn't take it anymore, but then I had a thought. Wasn't this what I'd stupidly asked for? Hadn't I told Rence, that there would be no love involved? I told him that it would only be sex. Suddenly I realized that I'd been a fool. The thing that made the sex with my husband so God damned enjoyable wasn't the physical part; it was the fact that we loved each other so God damned much that we enjoyed and craved each other's touch. I wanted to get these people, these sick perverted assholes, out of my house. I needed to try to wash their touch and these sick memories out of my body and my mind. Then I felt them at the same time. I looked down and as Dee pounded me despite my trying to close my legs and push him out, I felt someone licking my nipples. I saw that it wasn't one person but two. Paul was licking one of my sagging breasts and unbelievably, Marge was licking the other.

I have never in my life been interested in having another woman touch me and the disgust that she'd do it without asking if I wanted it seemed like a bigger violation than what her boyfriend was doing. At least I'd volunteered to have him abuse me. I never intended to speak to Marge again.

But then things got worse. They got far worse than I ever imagined.

"So much for my happy ending," I heard. I turned my head to the side and saw my husband still clutching the handle of his golf bag watching me. Marge stopped and dropped my breast. Her eyes got huge.

"Uhm," was her surprised reply.

Then things got worse again. Dee stopped and his dick popped out of me. He went as stiff as if he was made of stone.

"Rence, do you know this woman?" he asked.

"Yeah Darrell," he said. "I thought she was my wife."

No one said anything for a while.

"Honey I..." I began. I really had no idea of what to say.

"You thought I'd be gone for a while," he finished. "I quit the golf league tonight. It had nothing to do with us or your little fuck fest. Some of the guys at work were talking about Darrell in a way that I didn't agree with. I told them all to fuck off because I'd rather be friends with him than them any day. I guess I was wrong."

"I'm going to find a restaurant and get something to eat," he said and then he left.

"I didn't know who she was," yelled Darrell. "I swear it. I had no idea." As I looked at the giant, I didn't know whether I felt sadder for him or myself. Luckily, I hadn't actually told Rence the lie about not doing it. I figured that I'd just tell him that I'd arranged to do it earlier after our talk because once he'd told me that we wouldn't be having sex ourselves until I'd gotten this over with, I just wanted to get it over with.

I was sure that we'd talk and things would be okay between us after a while. But I remembered the way he talked about Darrell from work. Darrell was the kid who was going to take over for him. Lawrence expected his friends to be loyal. That friendship was over.

"It's okay Honey," Marge was telling him as he hurriedly started putting his clothes on.

"Shit, now that the party pooper is gone, we can get back to what we came here for," said a totally uninterested Paul. He put out the cigarette he'd lit, on the arm of one of my lawn chairs and reached for my breast.

I slapped his hand away and looked at him like the fool that he was.

"Let me guess, now that you've sampled it, you only like dark meat right. Well Missy, unless I miss my guess, he's leaving. And I think he's more upset about your boyfriend leaving than you are. So if you want to get fucked again, I'm your only choice."

"This has nothing to do with us," Marge told Darrell. "We never have to come here again."

"It has nothing to do with you," he snapped at her. "My life is all messed up."

He was already heading for the door. He turned and looked at me. "I'm really sorry," he said. It looked like he was going to start crying at any moment. I wanted to reach out and just hug him. "If I had any idea of who you were, I would never have set foot in here." Then he was out the door. I heard the motor of his car start and he pulled out of the driveway.

"Oh great, he left us," said Paul. "I guess we're spending the night."

"What if he never wants to see me again?" whined Marge. "I'll die without him."

"Marge, get a grip, dummy. You do have a husband, remember," I said.

"He doesn't give a fuck about me," she hissed. "He's so busy screwing his secretary and every other young thing he can find that I can do whatever I want and he'll never notice or care."

"But what about, him letting you explore your...?" I began.

"Amanda, maybe I wasn't completely truthful with you about that," she said quietly. "If I had a husband who really loved me, I wouldn't be so starved for affection. But since I met Dee..."

"His name is Darrell, Marge," I snapped at her. "And you may have just seriously damaged MY marriage."

"Look ladies, before you have your Oprah moment, I need something to eat and a place to lie down, chop-chop," said Paul smiling.

"Eat shit and die," I screamed at him. "I don't care if you lie down in the park or in the street. Just get the fuck out of my house."

"Can you at least call me a cab?" he asked smiling.

"Okay, you're a cab," I sneered. "Now get the fuck out of my house."

I held the door open for him and glared at him while he walked past. "Fuck you, ya stupid bitch," he hissed. "I'm never coming back here again."

"If you do I'll have you arrested for trespassing," I snapped.

I was really pissed but I didn't need him there while I got to the bottom of Marge's lies and why she'd lied to me. It didn't make any sense.

Marge and I talked for about an hour before I drove her home. I'd always thought that Marge had it all together. In fact, I'd been a bit jealous of her for her easy lifestyle and the freedom she enjoyed. Now I realized that I really didn't want to be free at all. As I drove back into our driveway, I was surprised to see that Rence hadn't gotten home yet. I debated whether or not to call him. I figured that he'd already had enough of a shock that evening and didn't need me bothering him until he was ready to come home. I wanted to talk to him badly. I needed to let him know that I was done experimenting and that I was wrong for doing it in the first place. As soon as he came home, we were going to talk. I showered three times to get every trace of sweat and sex off of me. Then I sat down on the couch to wait for him.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Lawrence

For the first time that I could remember, I didn't feel well. I've always been very healthy so even when I was sick, I always knew that it would only be a matter of time before I was back to normal. But that night I didn't think that I'd ever be well again. I couldn't erase those images from my mind. First, that sleazy looking little guy fucking Amanda and then it got even worse when she went over to the lounge chair and let Darrell fuck her.

She'd just got down on that recliner and let him pound the hell out of her. He fucked her so hard and so fast that I knew that I could simply never do that to her. I loved her too much. He treated her like a piece of meat. It was almost as if she was just some whore and it didn't matter what she felt. I could never do that to her, so if that was what she needed, I was out of the running.

To be truthful, I'd been lying the whole time she'd started this. It had simply been a bluff on my part. I told her it would be okay for her to do this, but I'd never really meant it. The woman I loved would never have done this. I'd gone along with it more as a test than anything else. I told myself that she wouldn't do it. In fact, I was sure of it. But deep down inside, I knew that if she ever did, it would mean the end of us.

Now she had called my bluff, so I had to go ahead with my part in this little drama. I headed for home with no clear exit strategy in mind yet. I wondered how something that seemed so assured and so perfect only a few days ago could go so wrong, so fast. All I knew was that instead of my happy ending, I was planning on restarting my life over again from scratch.

It was early in the a.m. when I finally walked into the house. I saw Amanda asleep on the couch with a book lying open on her chest. I closed the door as quietly as I could and walked up the stairs where I changed clothes and slept in my son's room. He was halfway around the world so he wouldn't be using his bed.

I tossed and turned all night because my brain refused to shut down. I realized that I was all alone. This was far worse than when my coworkers who were divorced went through theirs. In the cases of their divorces, they still had the workplace as an oasis of stability and we tended to try to coddle them through it. In my case, the betrayal was both at home and at work. There was also the fact that I was the guy who handed out the assignments, I had to be an example for everyone else. No matter how badly I felt, I had to keep things going.

What made it even worse, was the fact that the one person I might have confided in or talked to about it was involved in it. I just couldn't see myself talking to Darrell period, much less about this situation.

I finally managed to grab a couple of hours of sleep but I was still groggy when I woke up. I was alert enough to realize that I had to swallow my anger though. I couldn't take this out on people who had nothing to do with my pain, so I put on a happy face and dressed for my day.

I left the house early and stopped off at Dunkin for coffee and donuts for myself and my secretary Angelita. Maybe that would make everyone think that I was in a good mood.

Luckily, we weren't starting any new projects that week. That meant that for the most part I could hide in my office unless someone had something they needed to talk to me about.

At five minutes after nine, Angel called me on the office phone. "Hey Boss, wanna hear something funny?" she asked.

"I really could use a good laugh," I said.

"Darrell just called me. He wants to make an appointment to talk to you whenever you're free. I was laughing my ass off. It must be a joke. Why doesn't he just march into your office like he usually does?" she asked.

"He's doing the right thing," I said. "Call him back and schedule for 11:30 or 4:30. Tell him if it's purely business he can have the 11:30 time slot. If it's anything else the 4:30 slot."

She seemed puzzled but hung up and did it. She called back a few minutes later and told me that he'd chosen the 4:30 slot.

I sat at my desk going over the same calculations at least ten times before Angel called me again. "It's your wife on line three, should I put her through?" she asked.

"Tell her I'm in a meeting and I'll call her when I can," I said. She sat on the phone without saying anything and then finally hung up.

A few minutes later she was in my office looking at me. "That is the first time you've EVER not spoken to your wife," she said. "Even when you're angry at her you speak to her. What is going on?"

"We're having some problems," I said and left it at that.

"You do know that you're not alone," she said. "We've known each other forever. If there's anything you need, just let me know."

After she left, I got on my computer and started looking up listings for divorce lawyers. I was still numb and really didn't know what I intended to do but I wanted to have all of my ducks in a row just in case.

I saved the number for three lawyers and decided to call them. When I explained the situation to the first guy he laughed at me. "Does she want the divorce?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Either she does or she doesn't."

"I haven't spoken to her," I said. "I can barely stand to look at her."

"You're still in shock," he said. "First off, you can't just divorce someone. You have to have a reason. Especially in a marriage that has gone on for as long as yours has. Talk to your wife. If both of you agree to a divorce, you can probably get one. Other than that, the courts are especially friendly to women. You may end up losing the majority of your assets. Think about it buddy, you haven't worked your ass off for all of these years to end up poor."

The next lawyer was even worse. "You have no grounds for a divorce, dummy," he snapped at me.

"She cheated on me," I snapped right back.

"No she didn't," he said. "You gave her permission."

"But I didn't mean it," I said. "I was just testing her to see if she'd really do it."

"No one gives a rat's ass about your test," he spat. "She asked you if she could fuck another guy and you said yes. So her going out and doing what you said she could do is not grounds for a divorce. You may not like it but that's the way it is. You can file for a divorce and she'll say that she doesn't want one. She'll run all of the bullshit lines about how much she loves you and all the rest of that shit. She may really mean it. She may just not want to give up her cushy lifestyle, but in any case, she'll have very little trouble blocking the divorce. The court will order counseling and all kinds of other things while you will simply continue to pay for my time and the court's time. Bottom line is that she'll be able to keep it out of court and keep the two of you together for as long as she wants. And in the end, if you do finally get a divorce, it will be the most expensive thing you've ever bought."

"It will also leave you next to broke. My advice is to forget it. Just go home and forget about it. If you're unhappy, find yourself another woman. Find yourself someone younger and prettier. Get yourself a thin young blond with big tits. Set her up in an apartment and fuck the shit out of her regularly. It will still cost you less than a divorce. When you're ready, you could even start leaving your wife clues so she catches you. Get her mad enough that she files for divorce. If SHE files, you'll be divorced in three days or less. That's just the way these things work. In the meantime, I'd suggest that you hide as much cash and property as you can. Remember, officially, I am not telling you to do this, but if you don't, you will end up getting raped in the divorce. You'll end up living in a studio apartment eating tuna every night and taking the bus to work.

"Oh and once the divorce is settled, be prepared to move to a different state so she can't see your real life style, because if she can prove that you hid assets, she'll drag your ass back to court to amend the settlement."

Hearing about how bad my chances of getting a fair divorce were, made me think about the situation differently. Maybe I'd have to do this later rather than sooner. Maybe the best solution would be to just start over without actually getting a divorce.

Since it seemed that there wouldn't be a happy ending anyway, what was the point. I started thinking about all of the things that I wanted to do. It was kind of a bucket list or my solo version of a happy ending. I could still do that. I could just leave her fantasies and her dreams off of my list and do the things I wanted to do. She could do hers and I could do mine.

I sat there through lunch and thought about all of the things I wanted to do. This time instead of being frugal and thinking about things we wanted to do as a couple, I thought about all of the things I wanted to do personally.

As I stepped out of my office at one pm, Angelita was eating a sandwich at her desk. "I'm out Angel," I said. "And you shouldn't be manning the phones during your lunch break. Tomorrow, I'm taking you out to lunch."

"What about your appointment with Darrell?" she asked.

"It wasn't business, so it can wait," I said.

"I don't know boss," she said. "He's looked like he was going to cry all day. It's like all of his confidence is gone. He's double and triple checking all of his figures and running around asking for second opinions on everything he does. Normally, the two of you are like engineering superheroes, but today you're both off of your game. I know that something is going on with you and the missus, but I don't know what his deal is. I'm really worried about him."

"He's a big boy," I said. "I'm sure he can handle whatever it is. If he can't, we need to get someone who can." Even as I said, it she looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time.

As I left the parking lot, my cell phone rang. I looked at the screen and it was Angel.

"Hey Angel," I said. "Can't I leave the parking lot before something goes wrong?"

"Your wife is on the other line," she said. "Should I tell her to call your cell or what?"

"Tell her I'm still in a meeting," I said. That got me to thinking. I didn't really want to go home. Amanda usually got home before I did so the sooner I got there the more time I'd have to spend either with her or avoiding her.




My Happy Ending



I made a U-turn and headed towards downtown instead of home. I passed by a car dealership and noticed several new cars out there. I saw the newly redesigned Chevrolet Impala. It really did nothing for me. Near the Impala there was a Camaro in its full Transformers glory. It looked like an insect to me. But I did slow down as I drove past it. A guy in the lot gestured for me to come into the lot but I shook my head and waved at him. I drove further down the street and found a Ford dealership. I decided to at least look at some of their cars. Maybe a new Ford Fusion or a Lincoln would be a good trade for my old Corolla.

I parked in the lot and started wandering around looking at sticker prices and comparing gas mileage. I looked at trunk space and the amount of headroom each vehicle offered. I looked at safety features and had it narrowed down to the Ford Edge, the Taurus or the Ford Fusion. I was sure that for our travels the edge would probably be best. The Taurus would be the most practical and the Fusion, with its advanced electronics would be the most stylish. I knew that Amanda would be equally happy with the Fusion or the Edge once she got used to the fact that it was practically a minivan. But if a lot of our trips were going to be road trips, the Edge became more and more practical.

"Know what you want yet sir?" asked a salesman. I had to applaud his technique. Unlike the guys at the GM dealership who'd been begging me to come onto the lot like whores in the red light district calling out to Johns, this guy just sat back and let the product talk to me. He knew he had a sale before he ever said a word so all we had to do was pick a car and negotiate a price. His smile told me that he was ready to negotiate. I was sure that we were going to do some dickering.

"So what facts are we considering?" he asked. "Are you mostly looking for practicality, comfort or gas mileage?"

I turned and looked at him. He knew his customers. He'd seem me running back and forth reading information from the stickers in the cars' windows. As I turned to look at him all of my logic and research went out the window. I looked right beyond him as if I was looking through him. It was like falling in love for the first time or being struck by lightning.

"I want that car," I said.

He turned to look where I was pointing. "An excellent choice sir," he said. "That's a Twenty twelve Mustang GT. I can get you that car in any color you'd like. Let me show you a chart with all of the colors it comes in."

"Maybe you didn't hear me," I said. "I want that car. That exact one."

"Well, sir," he said. "You don't want that car. It's a display model that we put together for a show. It's been uhm...modified slightly."

"How exactly has it been modified?" I asked.

"Well, it has bigger racing wheels, bigger brakes, a front splitter; a Whipple twin screw supercharger and a Pype bomb performance exhaust system. It's really not practical. Outfitted like that you'd have trouble keeping tires on it if you have a heavy foot. And your gas mileage is going to suck. You'll barely get 16 miles to the gallon. And it's really loud."

"Sold," I said. He looked at me curiously.

"Sir, uhm, the cost of the upgrades will make the car more expensive," he said. It was the first time I'd ever heard a salesman trying to talk a customer out of buying something.

"Look," I told him. "I'm not sure what the deal is here. I want that car. Take it off of the ramp and let's make a deal. I don't want to argue over price. While we sit down and do the paperwork, I'll call my insurance agent and have it added to my current insurance. Is there a problem with that?"

"Well sir, I'm not sure it's the right car for you. I figure you're in your early forties right? If I make you happy and find a car that you love, I'll get to sell you more cars over the next twenty years. Since you're probably married and your wife probably drives, I might even double that number. But if I sell you a car you hate, I've lost a customer," he said.

"Don't worry," I told him. "That car and me were made for each other. From the first second I saw it behind you, it was like it was calling to me. For most of my life I've played it safe and practical. I'm finally at a point in my life where I can and want to howl a little bit and do some things that are purely for fun and purely for me. I've busted my ass for most of my life and now it's time for my happy ending. I want a car more for fun than for practicality."

"Let's do that paperwork sir," he said smiling.

Less than two hours later, I pulled the car out of the lot. There was immediately a battle for supremacy. I gave it what I thought was a tiny bit of gas. I gave it far less than I'd ever given the Corolla, but I got a totally different result. There was no small chirp as the wheels sought out traction; it was a blood curdling scream that threw up pebbles and a bit of smoke until I backed off. Every head in the vicinity turned towards me. The salesman gave me the thumbs up and I smiled. Then I edged the car out of the lot without giving it any gas at all. I had the biggest smile on my face as I drove back past the Chevy dealership. I wanted to catch that Camaro on the road.

I drove home, looking out the window to see who was looking at me. I had that smile all the way until I pulled into my driveway and Amanda came out. As soon as I saw her, the smile vanished. My mouth became a straight line and my lips and teeth were forced together with so much pressure that I could have bitten through steel.

I'm sure that she saw my smile vanish as I saw her, because hers did too.

"Whose car is this, Honey?" she asked.

"Mine," I said without further information.

"When did you get it?" she asked, following me into the house.

"Today," I said.

"I waited up for you last night. Did you even come home?" she asked, following me into our bedroom.

"Yes," I said. I got some shorts and a top to run in from a drawer in the dresser. I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. She tried to open the door and found that it was locked.

"Rence, why did you lock the door?" she asked. "It's not like I haven't seen you naked before. I was hoping that we could talk."

"Sorry, I didn't know you wanted to come in here," I said. "I'll be changed in a moment."

As I left the bathroom, she was on me again.

"Rence, can we talk?" she asked. "There are some things that we really need to go over."

"No," I said. She looked at me crazily. I guess she misunderstood me.

"We really need to talk," she said. "I don't have a good feeling about the way that things are between us right now. We need to talk about this. Do you realize that we haven't had sex since...you haven't even kissed me since..."

"Since the day that you told me that you needed to screw someone different," I said calmly. I kept walking through the house. I grabbed a bottle of juice and my running shoes. I stopped on the couch and put my shoes on.

"So when can we talk about this," she asked. "How about when you get back from your run?"

"I don't need to think about anything unpleasant during my run," I said.

"Rence, we have to talk about this," she said.

"Why is it that whenever a woman starts in with that we have to talk bullshit, the world stops?" I snapped. "What women really mean when they say we have to talk is I have something I want to talk about whether you want to or not." I hadn't raised my voice but Amanda was not used to me talking to her that way.

"Do you know where we went wrong?" I asked. She just shook her head. "Last week when you dropped your big revelation on me; you started out talking about all the things that WE were going to do and the places that WE were going to see. Then you segued into what YOU needed. Well YOU got what YOU wanted so leave ME the fuck alone." My tone was pure acid and it left her with tears threatening to fall, but for the first time I didn't care. I stood up and walked past her. I left without saying good bye or kiss my ass or anything.

I got into my car and drove to the park. I put all of my problems out of my head and just ran, I didn't think about anything, I just ran.

When I finished the run, I was drained but I felt good at the same time. I had run a bit faster than normal so I knew I'd be sore the next day but it felt good. It felt great to be in control of at least one aspect of my life when I'd lost control over so many others. At least there in the park I was the master of both my mood and my fate. I didn't need to tip toe around anyone and I could just relax and be myself.

I drove home and found Amanda sitting on the porch waiting for me. As I got out of the car, she came towards me. "It really is a beautiful car," she said. "Do you think that we could go for a ride in it?"

"What do you want Amanda?" I asked. "I'm tired from my run, I'm hungry and I don't know what I want to eat. So just say whatever you want to say and be done with it."

"Rence, what do you mean, be done with it?" she asked. "I get that you're angry with me, but I don't know why? We've been married for over twenty years. We have children together. We're going to be together forever. You make it seem like this is the last conversations we're ever going to have. What do you mean be done with it? Do you want me to make you something to eat? Is that it? I'd have made dinner only I didn't know what you wanted. And I had the idea that maybe we could go for a drive in the new car and maybe talk about this."

"Maybe we should drive to somewhere and eat and then talk on the way back?" she said. "Would that be better?"

"Amanda, just say what you want to say and get it over with. I can see that I'm not going to have any peace until you do so go ahead," I snapped.

"Rence, I'd rather for us to do this calmly and while we're relaxed," she said. "You act like you don't want to take me for a ride."

"I don't," I snapped. "I just want to have your fucking talk and move on."

"Why don't you want to go for a ride," she asked. "We've had lots of arguments over the past twenty or so years. Even if we only argued once a month or so that's around two hundred and forty arguments," she said. "And we've always been able to talk through our differences. The only thing that mattered was that we were together in the end. Besides, I want to see what it's like to ride in that car. We've never had a car like that. It sounds so rough and so fast."

"You probably just want to try out the back seat with one of your boyfriends," I snapped, before I got control of my mouth. "Well it's not going to happen. You needed something for you, and you got it. You got to have your little fuck party in our home. I needed something for me, so I got it. This is MY car not ours."

She winced at my words. "Rence, I don't want to drive YOUR car, I just thought you'd take me for a ride in it," she said.

"Look Amanda, I didn't participate in your little fuck party, so you don't get to participate in my car," I said. It sounded childish even as I said it.

"Rence, you told me I could go ahead and experiment. I thought you understood why I needed it," she said.

"I was lying, just like you were," I snapped.

"I didn't lie," she said. "It just happened sooner than I thought it would. I just wanted to get it out of the way so we could get back to normal. You wouldn't sleep with me and you haven't even kissed me. When did I lie and what do you mean that you lied too?"

"I lied when I said go ahead and do it. I was testing you. I figured that my Mandy wouldn't do something like that. And you lied when you took our marriage vows. Are we done?" I asked.

"But Rence, I know now that it was a mistake. I should never have done it," she said.

"Ray Charles can see that," I said. "But it's a mistake that you'll have to live with."

"And that's why you've been calling me Amanda," she said. "I guess I won't be your Mandy or Panda until we get over this, huh?" I just looked at her.

"So how long do you figure that's going to take?" she asked. "A week or so until you get your ass off of your shoulders, and then we can go back to normal. I'm sorry Rence, but I learned a whole lot of things that I should already have known. I also learned that Marge was lying to me all along."

"Great," I said. "Are we done?"

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a question," she said. "How much did your new car cost and how are you paying for it? How did you structure the loan? How many months will you be paying for it?"

"It's none of your business," I snapped. "But I'll tell you anyway, I put twenty down on it which left me 18 to finance and my monthly payments are going to be three seventy five a month until I retire. My car will be paid off by the time I retire and my next bonus or two will put back the down payment. But I'm not going to Bolivia in December."

"But Rence, of all the trips we planned for this year that was the one I wanted to go on the most," she whined. "Can't we cancel one of the other trips?"

"Amanda, you aren't listening to me," I told her. "I'm not going to Bolivia. You're still going."

"Rence, why would I go without you?" she asked me stupidly. "I thought that all of the things we wanted to do were for us. Some of the trips were places you wanted to see, others were things I wanted to see. The most important part of the idea was for us to be able to see the world together after our kids were grown and on their own. Remember, we're going to watch sunsets all over the world and have lots of things to tell our grandkids about."

"I thought that you were going to only try one guy," I snapped. "And I really wasn't okay with that. I thought that I was part of a couple. I thought that you were supposed to be...what they call your spouse...my better half. Instead you turned out to be my slutty half. Amanda, what I'm getting at is that you can do whatever you want to do from now on, I don't care anymore. You do what you want, I'll do the same."

"Rence, that's not what I want," she said crying. "I never wanted that. That is not what..."

"Amanda," I interrupted. "Your turn is over. You asked for what you wanted and I gave it to you. It's my turn now and this is what I want."

"So we're not going to travel together?" She asked. "We're not going to grow old together and take care of our grandkids. We're not going to retire together? This is bullshit."

"Amanda, we're going to do all of that," I smiled. "We're probably still going to retire at around the same time. And we're probably going to have grandkids. We're probably even going to travel to a lot of places. We're just going to do it separately."

The damn burst then and she started crying. "Rence this isn't how things are supposed to end up. You make it sound like we're getting a divorce," she said.

"Unfortunately, if we do that neither of us would have enough money to do any of the things we want to do," I said. "Both of the lawyers I spoke to agree that most of our money would be tied up in legal fees and court costs until neither one of us had enough money to do anything."

She looked at me like she was in shock. "Rence, you spoke to a lawyer about a divorce?" she asked.

I just nodded. "Since the courts tend to side with the women, if you filed both of the guys I spoke to seemed to believe that we could get one. If I file, it will stay tied up in court for years and we'll both end up broke."

"I've ruined us," she gasped. "Catch me," she said as she passed out from shock. I didn't even try. I let her fall flat on the floor. I did take her pulse and made sure she was breathing okay then I left her on the floor and went to get something to eat.

  *  *  *  *  *  *

  Amanda

  When I woke up, I was on the floor and my side hurt. I had no idea of how I'd gotten there. Then slowly it came back to me. I remembered that my husband and I had been having a conversation and I hadn't gotten to tell him any of the things I wanted to. This hadn't gone anywhere near the way it was supposed to.

  I wanted to tell him that I'd been a fool. I wanted to tell him all the things that I'd learned. I now knew that I wasn't the slut type. For me, in order for sex to work, there needed to be some kind of feelings involved. I guess I needed to love the person and Lawrence is the only man I love. After all of these years that we've been together, his dick is like the key to my pussy's lock. It just fits perfectly and we know it works. The bastard has gotten me pregnant twice.

  Paul just did nothing for me and Darrell, the poor man; it felt more like he raped me than anything else. My vagina was bruised and sore for a couple of days. He was very vigorous but there was no love there. He didn't know who I was and at the time I didn't know who he was. There was no foreplay and we weren't interested in pleasing each other. It was awful.

  It also isn't the way I like to have sex. I like sex to be slower and filled with a lot of caressing and kissing. It's supposed to be called making love not racing for an orgasm. What we did reminds me of twenty year olds hiding on the side of a house or in an alley trying to get off quickly before someone catches them and tells their parents.

  I also realized later that I'd been led down a path of lies by my supposed best friend. Marge's husband had been cheating on her for years. Even now, he was having sex with two or three other women that Marge knew of, including a college student, his secretary and even the evil old woman who lived down the street from her. Marge's husband Bryan fucked every woman he came across except for Marge. So for the past three months, she'd been screwing around on him too. She'd made up that story to get me to do it with her. At first, it was random guys that she met online or in bars, but once she met Darrell she'd fallen hard.

  The problem is that A) Darrell is twenty seven years old and black, while Marge is forty seven years old and not even very tan. B) Marge is very married and Darrell is single and very shy. Except for sex, they have nothing in common. And finally C) Ever since three days ago when Rence caught us, Darrell won't even accept Marge's phone calls.

  I understand that Marge's marriage is in the trash bin, but mine wasn't. When I explained to her that even after twenty years, Rence and I still had sex at least three times a week every week and we still fell on each other like teenagers, she looked at me stupidly.

  "Then why the hell would you risk something like that for cheap sex with strangers?" she asked me.

  "Because you were the one who told me that what you were doing was so much better than boring married sex," I snapped. "How the fuck was I supposed to know?"

  "Amanda, most single people are miserable," she said. "They want to meet someone and they hope and dream of finding what you already have. Do you know how lonely it is going home alone night after night? Do you know how humiliating it is finding someone who just wants to fuck you and then leaves you? You have it all, girl. Don't let that get away."

  "Had," I said quietly. "Lawrence doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

  "If he loves you as much as you say he does maybe you can get him back," she said. "Just don't give up. Keep fighting for as long as you have to. Besides you only did it once. Tell him it'll never happen again."

  "He doesn't even talk to me anymore," I said. "We live in the same house that we've always lived in. Only it's like we're strangers. We don't even sleep together anymore. We don't even talk. He was talking about filing for a divorce."

  "Don't give it to him," she warned. "Tell any lawyer you get that he gave you permission even though he didn't mean it. If that dickhead I'm married to can get a younger woman, you know your husband can. I'm going to help you get him back, since I helped to fuck things up. But I'm going to need something from you too."




My Happy Ending



"What do you need?" I asked suspiciously.

  "After I get you and your husband back together, you have to help me get Darrell back," she said.

"So how do we start," I asked her. Since the confrontation with Rence, I really felt off. One of the things that I've always been able to focus on is the fact that no matter what else happened, I'd never be alone. At least not until one of us died. I had a lot of friends who were divorced and I just didn't see that happening to us. Shit, I could easily see Marge divorced, but Rence and I; that was never going to happen to us.

We are the couple who would end up together to the point of being buried beside each other and watching over our family from the hereafter together. We are soul mates. Maybe we're just separated halves of one soul. I knew that eventually we'd make up and get over this, but Marge's help could possibly make it happen faster. And I needed it to happen faster because I felt awful. I just felt like I should be somewhere lying down in the fetal position with a cool towel over my head waiting for this to all end. It felt unreal. It felt as if it was a dream or something that was happening to someone else.

There was no possible way that my husband was trying to get a divorce from me. From what he said, the only reason that we weren't going through the divorce process right now was because it would be difficult for him to get a divorce because he'd given me permission. I didn't understand that so I decided to look into it later on. If Rence did decide to try to divorce me, I'd fight it tooth and nail. I've seen several divorce cases where the husband cheated on the wife and she tried to divorce him and he fought it, usually over the settlement and who got what. In a lot of those cases, during the divorce and the time that they were apart, they realized that they'd be happier together and dropped the case.

Some of those couples went on to be even stronger because after going through the divorce, they realized how special what they had is, and wouldn't risk it for frivolous things. Rence and I were a different story though. He had to know that he was the most important thing in my life. There is simply no way that I'd knowingly do anything to jeopardize our marriage. I didn't cheat on him. I asked him if I could do it and he'd said to do it. How was I supposed to know that he was considering it to be some kind of test?

Shit, okay his feelings were hurt. What about my feelings. I have sex with two guys and neither one was what I'd consider an enjoyable experience. Instead of being something I looked forward to, I was starting to become ambivalent about sex. Especially since something that I didn't enjoy anyway was beginning to put stress on my marriage to a man I adored. This was all Rence's ego talking. Why couldn't he just put this behind us? It was only sex.

I finally zoned back in and realized that Marge was still talking to me. "Go over it again, please Marge," I said.

"Okay, the first thing we need to do is that I'll come over to your house and try to talk to him," she said. "Maybe I can explain this to him so he can see that you'll never do this again and that you still love him. Maybe he's just feeling hurt and if we can get him to see that this didn't have anything to do with the two of you and your marriage he'll calm down."

"I really hope that works," I said. "I'm beginning to get desperate. In the eight days since I told him I wanted to have sex with someone else, we haven't had sex once and he hasn't even kissed me."

She looked at me strangely. "Amanda, you've been married for over twenty years going without it for eight days should be nothing. Surely you've gone for longer periods than that," she smiled.

I shook my head. "Only if one of us was sick, and even then we still kissed. But it's like he doesn't want to even touch me and just looking at me makes him angry. I have the feeling that if he could have, he'd have moved out on me already. I'm so used to us doing everything together that not being with him hurts me."

"What if you invite some people over? Just to be sociable he'd have to talk to them and that could start a conversation between the two of you," she said.

"There aren't very many people that we socialize with," I said. "Rence has never invited any of the people he works with to our home. He likes to keep his work life and his home life separate. He does sometimes go golfing with a few of the guys at work but that was just to play golf mostly. The only person at work that he like being around was..." I paused and she looked at me.

"Darrell right?" she said and I nodded. There was a long pregnant pause. "Amanda, how do you feel about your husband?" she asked.

"I love him," I told her.

"No, I mean how exactly does that feel?" she asked.

"Well, like now," I began. "I feel sick because I can't be with him and I know he's pissed at me. Most of the time when we're around each other I just want to touch him and...God it sounds so silly saying this out loud."

"No go on," she said.

"Okay, Lawrence is the only person beside my kids that makes me smile just seeing him. If you stood him, fresh out of bed, unshaven and stinky, next to Brad Pitt, I'd still run to Lawrence every time. Just having him wrap his arms around me makes me wet and when I get worked up, I swear I'd take my clothes off and fuck him in the middle of rush hour on Main Street. Our natural state is naked and linked together. I'd do anything for him." As I said it I noticed that she was looking at the ground and shaking her head.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Amanda, why would you risk that?" she asked. "It's just stupid. You're stupid."

"But you told me..." I began.

"Amanda, my husband doesn't give a rat's ass about me. I've told you he's been cheating on me for years. And to tell you the truth, I think he knows that I've been doing it too and he just doesn't care. You're upset because you haven't had sex with your husband since YOU told him you wanted to sleep with another guy. I haven't had sex with Bryan in over a year, and even then he was drunk and thought I was some whore named Brenda. Do you remember last week the day you told him?" I nodded.

"Well, when I was leaving and he was just coming back from his run, he looked at me as if he was jealous of me that I'd been sitting there talking to you while he wasn't. That man loves you to a very ridiculous degree. It's like his entire world revolves around you. Do you know what most women would give to have something like that? Amanda, you're my friend and I know that you don't judge me but a lot of the people I work with who know what I do think I'm some kind of slut. I made the mistake of hooking up with a couple of guys from work. I counted on their discretion and since they were married too. I figured nothing would be said about it. The next thing I knew I was the office whore and the guys were, of course, only victims."

"I'm not a whore or a slut, Amanda. I'm just an average every day woman who didn't marry as well as you did. I need to be loved and cared about and made love to. We're all different. From what you told me you didn't like having sex with Darrell. You said it was too rough and there was no emotion in it, right?"

I nodded at her. "It was like being raped voluntarily," I said. "I just got the feeling that he..."

"Didn't care about you at all," she finished. "Honey, he didn't. He doesn't know you at all. He didn't know you were Lawrence's wife or anything. All he knew was that you were some older chick who wanted to fuck. It was just no strings attached sex between two consenting adults. Now isn't that what you told your husband you wanted?"

I nodded.

"So what did you expect?" she said. "You got exactly what you talked about. Now in my case it's totally different because my needs are different from yours. This isn't the first time I've been with Darrell. It's really difficult for me to hook up with him. I have to give him something different every time. That was why I let him try you out last time, to give him something he hasn't had before. Darrell is a young single guy and you need to know something about him. He is, despite how big he is, probably the nicest man I've ever met. He's kind and considerate. He has the potential with the right woman to be like your husband. That's why once I started with him I stopped just picking up stray men." She looked at me seriously.

"I love Darrell," she said. "That's why I wanted to know how you felt about your husband, because you described pretty much the exact way I feel about him. I know that the odds of it working out are astronomical but I want him so bad I can taste it. I call him so often it's like I'm stalking him. I love to have him pounding away on me like that. And I'll tell you something else that you won't believe. I do things with him that are absolutely stupid; just like you'd do for your husband. I don't use protection with him. He's lucky I'm older because sooner or later if we keep going at it he's going to knock me up. If I was a young fertile woman he'd have already rung my bell. I'm almost twice his age, the wrong color, and already married, but he makes me feel the way I want to feel."

"I'll tell you something else Amanda," she said. "I wouldn't cheat on Darrell with anyone for any reason even though we aren't in a relationship. I wouldn't even fuck my husband because I'd feel like I was cheating on him. And there's something that even Darrell doesn't know. He's young, but he's starting to care for me too. It used to be when he was pounding away at me and I'd tell him that I loved him; he'd stop and get upset about it. Then we went through a stage where he'd keep fucking me but we'd talk about it later. He'd give me that whole 'friends with benefits' thing. But now when I say it, he smiles and he hasn't said it back yet but he will. If we were just fuck buddies, why did he send me flowers last week? And believe it or not, he was the only person who remembered my fucking birthday and got me a present. Sooner or later, no matter how much he's trying to avoid it, we're going to end up together. He's trying to fight it right now which means it's getting to him."

"What do you mean he's trying to fight it?" I asked.

"Amanda, he keeps telling me that we don't work and we need to see other people," she said. "But I don't want anyone else and I don't think he can get anyone else. So I have to wait until he's so stressed out that he can't resist and he calls me." I looked at her because I didn't understand.

"It's a small town Amanda," she said. "There just aren't a lot of black people that live here. So his chances of finding a woman are limited. Sure there are a lot of younger women who don't really care about color, but a lot of them aren't really nice girls so someone as shy as he is wouldn't be able to talk to them. So when he's really horny, he doesn't have a lot of choices. He can travel to the nearest large city and pick up a hooker or call me. Even driving to the next town and picking up a hooker isn't a sure thing because he has to worry about the cops and a lot of those women just look like hell. He also has to worry about diseases. It's so much easier for him to just call me. I'm never going to turn him down and since neither of us is really doing anything with anyone else, we don't have to worry about diseases so I went off the pill."

"But Marge," I asked in horror. "There are so many ways that this can go wrong. What if your husband does find out? What if you got pregnant? Shit, Darrell is only twenty seven years old. What if he doesn't want to be a father? What if, like you said, he really doesn't have a lot of choices in women to have sex with? What if he's just being nice to you so he can get some?"

"I don't care Amanda," she snapped. "I'm willing to do anything I have to do to get him back and since your husband caught us, he doesn't even respond to my calls or texts or anything. I'm really worried about him because normally, even on days that we don't hook up, I can count on him to cheer me up or just make me feel wanted. I'm desperate and he's depressed. The only reason he's in this town in the first place was the job. Since he got here his confidence has grown and a lot of it has to do with the experience he's gotten on the job and the respect and responsibilities your husband has given him. He's falling apart. He feels like this is all his fault and your hubby has been ducking meetings with him and hasn't given him any new assignments since this started. It's gotten so bad that I have to ask that secretary at his office for information." She wrung her hands and looked at me. 

"I'm not just helping you to fix this for your sake," she said. "It's for mine as well."

I shook my head and realized that Darrell might think this was his fault, but in reality it was all mine. If I'd just sat back and thought about how blessed I already was, instead of wanting to try to get what I thought Marge had, none of this would have happened. I couldn't even blame Marge because she was just trying to make lemonade. Life had handed her a bucket full of lemons. She had a husband who cheated on her and didn't care about her. She was starved for both sex and affection, so she finally did something about it. I think that deep down inside she didn't really feel good about what she was doing so she tried to talk about it in a way that made it seem like she was okay with it. She told all of our friends about it, but I was the only one stupid enough to fall for it. And then to make things worse she fell in love with the guy she was cheating with.

What Marge should have done in the first place was just file for a divorce and then found her-self another man. This situation was entirely too complicated. I didn't care what it took. I intended to get my husband back in my bed where he belonged.

After Marge left, I took a shower and put on my sexiest lingerie. I'd made lasagna that afternoon when I got home from work because it was Rence's favorite dish. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw a mid-forties pear shaped woman who was moderately attractive. There was a bit of cellulite on the backs of my thighs and my breasts are slightly smaller than proportionate. My hair is rich and dark with a few strands of gray mixed in. I normally have a great smile but it's been missing since this episode started.

My tummy has a slight bulge and the skin around it is loose with a few light stretch marks if you look closely. Those stretch marks are from giving birth twice. Lawrence loves my tummy. He's so stupid. He thinks it's sexy. He once told me that it's the place where his babies are made, and it is. I guess I'm attractive enough that the average guy would still fuck me, but I'm not pretty enough for anyone to go crazy about any more. The only person who still sees me as something more than just pussy is Lawrence. I'm really not the kind of woman who wants to be someone that men can hit and then quit. I need my husband back. I've never been this lonely in my whole fucking life and I'm to blame for it. We're still living in the same house but it's like we're strangers.

That's why I made myself sexy for him and made his favorite meal. The top of my lingerie is so sheer that you can see my breasts and nipples through it. The bottom is so tight and cut so tiny that if I move wrong my pussy swallows it. The back of it is a thong that disappears between my ass cheeks. There's a cover-up with it but I'm not wearing it. Our kids are away in school and in the service. The only person coming into this house tonight is my husband and I want him to see me.

I have to be really careful wearing things like this because Rence and I are always hot for each other anyway. There have been a few times when things just got away from us. That's partially why we had our kids in our early twenties, before we were really financially ready for them.

It's hard to believe that only ten days ago, I'd been wearing just normal knee length shorts while I worked in the garden. Rence had come home from his run and saw me bent over in those shorts. He'd looked through the house for me after his run as if us being apart for the hour while he ran was too much. I heard him coming up behind me but I had no idea that seeing my flabby ass even completely covered up would send him into such a state.

He slapped me on the ass and shocked me. He pushed his crotch into my shorts covered ass and started humping me. He reached around and started gently massaging my breasts and nuzzling my neck.

"Rence, don't do that," I said. "I have to finish weeding." My nipples had responded as soon as he touched me and though I'd told him to stop I really didn't want him to. I thought that he'd play with me for a while and tease me and we'd have sex like we always did after we ate.

Then he pulled my shorts down. He had to struggle to pull the tight material over my ass. "Rence what are you doing?" I laughed as he buried his face in my panty covered ass. He pulled my panties to the side and started kissing and licking the skin on my ass. My pussy was dripping by then. I was thinking about forgetting the garden and just dragging him inside the house. I didn't realize it but I was already a step behind him. He tried to pull my panties down right there and then. The sun hadn't even gone down yet, so if one of our neighbors on either side had looked out their upper windows they could have seen us.

Rence was either too overcome by lust or misjudged his strength, because instead of pulling my panties down they ripped right off of me. It was then that I looked over and noticed that he'd pulled his running shorts to the side and his dick was out. He leaned down and licked and chewed my ass even more. "Rence, let's go inside," I said. "We have to hurry. I'm too wet for you. If you lick my ass one more time I'm going to cum."

He ignored me. He mounted me from behind. I was so wet and he was so hard that he just lined his dick up and shoved it slowly into me, right there in broad daylight. After a couple of strokes I didn't care about our neighbors seeing us. I just wanted him to fuck me. I started pushing my hips into him as he thrust his rod into me. He was grabbing my hips and forcing it deeper with every stroke until he bottomed out. He reached around me with both hands putting all of his weight on me. One hand rubbed my breast and tweaked my left nipple. The other rubbed my stomach and then trailed down between my legs to find my clit. As soon as he hit it I screamed and let go. It wasn't the Fourth of July but I saw fireworks.

Rence wasn't done though. He kept gently stroking his still hard dick inside of me. That's one of the wonderful things of having a long history of sex with one person. You know exactly what turns them on. He knew that my clit would be too sensitive to touch after I'd cum so he started rubbing my tummy while my pussy was still having spasms and I couldn't open my eyes. Then he made it worse. He told me he loved me so much, but that he couldn't control himself when he saw that ass. He told me that it was my fault because no man could resist wanting to be inside of me and he was going to knock me up again. He knew that I'd had my tubes tied after our daughter was born but it was fun thinking about it. I spread my legs and lay down flat in the dirt and mud of our garden. The cold water from the plants I'd watered and the wet soil didn't matter. I flattened a couple of my pepper plants trying to stretch out in the dirt so he could fuck me again. I wanted...no I needed to have him spurting his juices inside of me.

Rence never pounded me like a piece of meat, he didn't need to. It was as if every one of my nerve endings was on fire so the slightest friction did the job. He couldn't hold out for much longer. He squeezed both of my nipples and locked his mouth onto mine. I tried to squeeze my legs together to increase the friction and felt his warm fluids filling my insides. After we were done we looked into each other's eyes because nothing else mattered. Not the dirt and mud we were rolling around in or the fact that anyone could have seen us.