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Rob and Amanda Lundsford

By: Matt Moreau



I'm Robert Lundsford, age thirty-eight; stock broker for Hilling's Investments, husband, and as I now know an unknowing cuckold. My wife of ten years is Amanda Lundsford age thirty-six; works for Hammond Industries, wholesalers of kitchenware; she's a receptionist—oh—and a lover of men. We'd moved to Des Moines almost immediately after marrying. I had a friend, Bret Hilling's. He and I had attended state college together; his offer of employment was an opportunity too good to pass up.

Amanda is tall, at five-ten, and slender; I sometimes call her Willow. Me? Five four, also slender and still with all my hair—thank God. Yeah, yeah, I know she's way too tall for me; but fact is she'd assured me she liked short guys. Well, hell, there had to be at least one woman in the world who did—right? Seemed fair to me, I mean since I like 'em tall and slinky; which pretty much describers my Amanda, so shoot me.

Oh, and no kids.

Things have been mostly good for us. Sex good, incomes "really" good, and we get along socially pretty well. Well, that is until the last few months. Lately, I have been the object of what I consider some fairly obvious neglect by my wife. And, things are fast coming to a head.

******

"I am not the wimp you think I am, Amanda, no matter what your friends say or you believe. You have disrespected me for the last time," I said. She tendered me an indulgent smile. 

"Robbie, I never said you were a wimp. And, neither has anybody else," she said, laughing. "Just calm down. Okay?" 

"I..."

"Amanda, can I have this dance," said Chester Warfield, coming up to us for the tenth time this evening, or so it seemed to me. 

"Sure, Chester. It's okay with you isn't it honey?" she said, as he pulled her away from me before I could even answer her.

The smiles from the cluster of little two person bar tables surrounding ours were telling. The tables were peopled all, or mostly all, by her friends on this night. I was humiliated and feeling real low. I wanted my woman, but it was beginning to look like I didn't even have a woman of my own. Fuck, maybe I was the wimp she obviously thought me.

I seethed and waited for her return. I looked up at the clock 10:30. I was almost surprised as she was back right after her dance with Chester. But, just as I was about to ask her to dance myself, Chester, rather than walking off, plopped down on the seat next to her: I was on one side of her and he was on the other.

"Honey would you get us a couple of drinks please," said Amanda. I decided to make a stand.

"No," I said. She proffered me a sidelong glance.

"Chester, would you be a dear," she said.

"Certainly," he said.

"Look, Amanda, You made me come to this thing tonight. You danced with me exactly once. Who the heck are you married to if you don't mind my asking?" I said. She gave me a look. There ensued a few minutes of pregnant silence.

Apparently concerned by my attitude, and my tapping foot, she opened up. "Now, honey, don't be like that. You'll get your chance to dance with me." Just then Chester arrived back at the table with two drinks—my glass had been empty too. Clearly he'd gotten one for each of them. I decided to make my stand now. I took the one he'd set in front of himself and downed it.

"Thanks," I said. "I needed that."

"What the fuck!"

"Robbie, what are you doing?" said Amanda. 

"Standing up for myself," I said. Suddenly there was a flurry of subdued chatter from the tables around us.

"Robbie!"

"You know—fuck it!" I said. I rose and headed for the door. I was home twenty minutes later and waiting on her. We were going to have it out. She had to know I wasn't going to be putting up with anymore of her shit; or, if she didn't she soon would.

Well, as it turned out, I guess she wasn't especially worried about my stand; she arrived two hours after me.

I was sitting at the dinette, tapping my fingers on the table. She came in through the front door.

"Thanks a lot Chester. I don't know what I would've done without you," I heard her say.

She saw me. "So you're still up," she said. "We'll talk tomorrow. I'm tired. And, I need to cool off after you humiliated me like that."

"Humiliated you? That's a laugh. And, we'll either talk it out now, or I'm going to be going now, and I mean permanently," I said.

"What! Are you out of your mind! What's gotten into you," she said.

"Frankly I've wondering who might be getting into you. And, in case it matters to you my answer is not me for one," I said. "No sex for the past six weeks, not even any kisses of the 'I love you' variety. One dance in three hours tonight. Ordered to caddy drinks for you and your soon to be new boyfriend, I'm sure. Put another way, you've neglected me badly, and I'm done with it. Things do a one-eighty starting now, or we're through," I said. She eyed me.

"Robbie, I haven't been neglecting you; well, not consciously. Has it really been that long since we've done it together? I didn't realize..."

"You didn't realize it because you didn't care," I said. "Like I said, a one-eighty or nothing. Make up your mind now"

"Honey, yes we'll, I'll, do better by you starting now. But, just calm down. And, tonight was—well—whatever it was. An accident, nothing intentional, really," she said.

"Come on, let's go to bed. We can talk some more tomorrow. Okay?" she said. "I'm bushed." I was tired too so I nodded my okay. 

Once upstairs I had a thought. "Amanda, don't bother wearing anything to bed. You won't need them," I said. Her look was one of frustration—no—exasperation.

"Honey, could we wait till tomorrow. I really am bushed," she said.

"No," I said. She shook her head slowly. 

"Okay, but don't expect a lot of energy on my part. But, I guess I do owe you a little something tonight if it's really been six weeks," she said.

She stripped. I stripped. She lay beside me staring at the ceiling. She was clearly waiting for me to take the initiative.

She let me kiss her, but she didn't actively return it. She just lay there—what—enduring me.

"What nothing at all from you. You just gonna be like some blowup doll for me to get my rocks off?" I said. She wrinkled her brow and looked over at me.

"I'm tired okay!" There was that exasperated attitude again.

"And what about tomorrow morning or tomorrow night. Gonna be the same shit?" I said.

"No. No. That would be much better. Tomorrow," she said. I nodded and rolled over. I wasn't happy, but truth told I really was very tired too.

******

It didn't happen in the morning, and she was gone most of the day with her partner in crime Missy Dunlap. Where, I had no idea. I had yard work to do, it being Saturday, so her absence actually worked for me. She returned at around 6:00PM. 

She made dinner, we ate, and we cleaned up. 

"How about going to bed early," I said, testing the waters. There was that exasperated look again.

"Yeah, okay, if you can't wait," she said. All of a sudden I knew what I had to do.

"Never mind. I've lost interest. Just forget it." I headed up the stairs; she didn't. I began packing. The marriage was over.

It was maybe fifteen minutes later that she came up. She was startled to see me packing.

"What are you doing Robbie?" she said.

"Leaving you." I continued to pack.

"What the fuck! I said we could go to bed early if you wanted," she said.

"Yeah with all of the enthusiasm of someone awaiting execution," I said.

"Robbie, that's not true!" she said.

"Yes it is," I said. "Goddamn it, yes it is!"

"No, Goddamn it; no it's not!" Well, at least I was getting some reaction out of her, some show of emotion.

"I want an enthusiastic lover," I said," not just toleration. I'm not into mercy fucks as you might well imagine."

"What? What! You're nuts," she said.

I continued to pack, but then something happened that put me back on my heels—literally. I turned to say something as I snapped shut the second suitcase, and I was met with a left hook and a right cross to the jawline that put me down and out. I'd never seen it coming.

I don't know how long I was out, but when I awoke, I was tied hand and foot and spread eagled to the bed posts.

She stood over me, next to the bed. I tested my bonds; there was no give. She was dressed in a very sexy teddy. One I'd never seen before. She smiled.

"Decided to rejoin the world of the living?" she said.

"What the fuck! Let me out of this! Untie me now, Amanda. I mean it," I said.

"Not until I've made my case that you are not just some gofer for me and my friends. Rather that you are loved and appreciated for what you can do for me, and I do mean in bed. And, that you have completely misread my actions and attitudes of last night and tonight. I may not succeed, but I sure as hell plan to give it my best shot," she said.

"You may have the upper hand now, but you can't keep me tied up like this forever. I will get loose and you will pay," I said.

"Hmm, maybe, but I'm betting that you may want to rethink your attitude when I'm done with you," she said.

"Not hardly," I said.

"Hmm, your johnson seems to be on my side. Would you mind if I join you there on the bed and lick and suck it for a while?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She just climbed up and knelt between my legs.

She reached for my cock and toyed with it teasingly for some little time. "Hmm, only six inches, but it'll have to do." she said. "Sure you want to object to what I'm doing." I just shot her a look that was supposed to be threatening; she just laughed, bent forward and licked me from bottom to top swirling her tongue around the glans. She was driving me crazy.

Truth was that I was so horny that I would have killed for this moment. And also truth told, everything else notwithstanding, I didn't want her to stop, not even.

I began to stiffen. She stopped sucking me off for a moment. Looked up into my eyes and smiled. "I'm going to swallow it all. Then, we're going get you up again and we're going to fuck. And, god help you if you don't make me cum," she said.

She was true to her word. She swallowed every iota of my cum as spurt after spurt of my juices sprayed the insides of her mouth and she never even grimaced. I would worry later about how she became so good at giving head.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she began her campaign to get me erect once more. It didn't take long. She licked me, but did not suck me, and tickled my balls to the point of distraction. Hard once again, she mounted me cowgirl and began sliding up and down on my cock. Some ten minutes later—literally—I felt her squirm and mumble and groan and moan and finally scream as she made it. She kept drilling me until I made it maybe thirty seconds after her.

She plopped down beside me. "God that was good," she said. I didn't know if she was saying it to placate me or if she really meant it. That was my problem, I didn't trust her anymore. But, that said, it did sound like the truth. And, I do know she made it because she squirted.

"How about you, little man. Was it good for you?" she said.

I didn't answer her. Not right away at any rate. I had decided not say word one until I was untied. And, I really didn't like her little man comment. She wasn't insulting me exactly, but she was being—what—condescending. 

"Not going to talk to me? Okay, well I tried. You can't say I didn't try," she said. She rolled off the bed and began to untie me. Free, I answered her.

"Yes, it was good. It was the best I've ever had from you," I said. She smiled.

"Well, thank you for that," she said. "And there is plenty more where that came from if you'd like to rethink your plans to move out on me." I nodded.

"Okay, you win. But, I do have a few concerns and questions," I said.

"Okay," she said.

One, where did you learn to punch like that, two where did you learn to suck cock like that, and finally whatever in the world gave you the idea to tie me up and do me like you did?" I said. She gave me a serious look.

"Missy," she said. "Her dad was a pro fighter, and she showed me a few things; said a girl needed to know how to take care of herself these days. As for tying you up and taking advantage of you, also Missy. She's done it to Randy, her husband. She said it was a hot way to get a guy into doing what his woman asked of him."

The elephant in the room was the clearly fact that she'd ignored my question about her cock sucking skills. "And the cocksucking?" I said, forcing the issue.

"Promise you won't go off on me or leave me?" she said.

"You saying it that way almost guarantees that I will," I said. "So, you going to answer me or not?" She sighed.

"Other men have taught me some things over the years, Robbie. None were ever a threat to you. You can believe that for sure. With you about to leave me, I had no choice, I had to give you my A-game. And, before you ask, no, Chester was not one of the men; though in truth I'd like to give him a shot at some point.

"So now you know the whole schmear. You going to leave me, or give me another chance?" I looked at her like she had two heads.

"You gonna continue doing other men?" I said. She gave me a questioning look before answering.

"Yes, she said. "And, if you want you can join me. I've long wanted to include you, but well..." My turn to be sending the looks.

"You want me to stay and be your cuckold, am I getting this right?" I said.

"Yes Rob, you are my cuckold, and you will remain one, and that's a good thing. Believe me. But, please don't think of yourself as some wimpy assed nothing; you will never be that to me. I just need a little on the side from time to time; maybe once every few weeks or so. And, in point of fact it's been almost three months since the last time," she said. Her look told she was getting it all out there hoping she could sell me on joining her or at least not dumping her: I made several times what she did on my job. I was shocked, but did I really want to leave without fighting for what was mine?

"I'll stay—for now. But we're not done talking, not even" I said. "Especially now that I know I've been your unsuspecting cuckold. That one I am not happy about, Amanda. Not happy at all, but we'll talk." She rushed me and kissed me and hugged me and made me feel good. Now, all I had to do was figure a way to rationalize living with a whore.

"Yes, and we will talk," she said pushing me back from her. "We are a team you and me, honey. You can't leave. I need you."

Yeah, she needed me, but for what, if she had all these lovers out there teaching her how to have fun. The clear answer to that question had to be my mid-six figure income.

******

The next few days were a malaise of mundane suburban life. We bought groceries. We went to the movies once. We did yard work and housework and watched inane TV shows. On the fourth night after our little—what—make up; she decided to lay it on me.

"Wanna go out tonight, big boy?" she said.

"Out? Where out?' I said.

"Dining, dancing, maybe pick up some guy?" she said.

"Huh?" I said.

"You know, an impromptu date. Have a little fun, sexual fun? Make you a knowing cuckold for the first time. Whaddya say?" she said this last kind of on the quiet. I just looked at her.

"Come on, Robbie. It's not like we didn't talk about it just a couple of days ago," she said. "You're a cuckold; that's not going to change, but you are a well-loved cuckold, and I want to include you in my fun. So, how about it?" I was becoming upset.

"Why would you want me around? Just somebody to laugh at?" I said.

"Heavens no. You're good in bed. You'd be adding a major dimension to the games," she said.

"And just how would I be doing that, having me take him up the ass?" I said. She smiled.

"Could be. Or, the two of you could take turns doing each other with me cheering you on. Or maybe it'd be me getting it in both ends: him fucking me and me sucking you off. You seemed to like what I did to you the other night," she said. 

"I don't know..."

"Face it Robbie, you are my pussywhipped little man, or you would have kicked me out or left me the night of the party. I knew, was pretty sure, when I took advantage of you the other night, how you'd react. You'll do what I say because it will please me; I know it, and you know it. And, that said, I know that it is in my best interest to do what I can to make sure you are taken care of too. Sound good?" she said.

"It didn't sound good, but she had me. I was indeed her pussywhipped little man, and she was going to exploit it and there was precious little I could do about it, at least at the moment. But go out man hunting with her tonight? That, I was not into. Still..."

******

We were way early. Amanda wanted to get a few drinks into me before the games began, I suppose.

The Blossom was a bar catering mostly to the softer sex. It was run by Irene Compton, a feminist entrepreneur, and, some said, Christian Minister of all things—what church was anyone's guess.

The DJ was playing softer sounds for the dinner crowd. That figured to change once the crowd settled into a more social mode.

We'd finished eating and Amanda was already on the hunt. Not obviously so, but I could tell. Her eyes were nothing so much as a human appraisal mechanism. Then she stopped looking; she'd located her prey.

Christopher Amundsen was a tall man, muscular, reasonably handsome, and seemingly easy going. How to meet him? Well, that's the stuff of legend and myth: she spilled her drink all over his pants as she sashayed between the tables ostensibly to talk to a friend across the room. 

She helped clean him up, plied him with a profuse string of high pressure apologies, and all but demanded that he dance with her. A half hour later he was walking her back to our table, and no I hadn't seen her except at a distance for the entire time.

"Chris, this is my husband Robbie," said Amanda by way of introducing us. He smiled at me, didn't quite crush my hand when we shook, and made with the usual polite pleasantries.

The two of them talked animatedly and candidly in front of me. His periodic glances in my direction were filled with questions. Chief among his verbalized queries was what was a short and unprepossessing man like me doing with Aphrodite for a wife?

And like I said, their conversation was candid. 

"So, we'll be taking Chris home with us, Robbie, so he can fuck me. Okay?" she said. "You can be there too if you like. You can watch or join in, babe, your choice," she said.

"You okay with that, Rob," he said. "I'm not into busting up relationships. But if..."

"Yeah sure," I said. I wasn't, and my stomach was roiling. But, what else could I say. I knew what we'd come for, and Christopher Amundsen was it.

Back at the house, they'd disrobed and, naked, were feeling each other up on the couch. I'd been detailed to make the martinis for us all. Done, I was ready to serve them, but decided to wait just inside the kitchen's doorway and listen to what they were saying. I figured it might be interesting.

"I gotta ask, Amanda. I mean your hubby seems like an okay guy, but he's so short..." he said.

"He has other qualities that make him perfect for me," she said. I could almost see him waiting for an explanation. Well, hell, I wanted one too.

"Yes?" he said.

"He's a big ticket wage earner and he is totally pussywhipped. I can do whatever I want and he'll kiss my ass for allowing him to allow me. Well, I mean you're here aren't you. And, he's serving us and may even be going to watch you do me," she said. "I may ask you to let him be involved if he wants. You know take his sloppy seconds, or me give him a blow job to calm him down if he begins to feel a little left out. I screwed up a week ago and he damned near left me. I can't let that happen again. I need him to pay the bills among other things."


Rob and Amanda Lundsford



"Okay, kid gloves and mercy fucks in his future. That about it?" he said. 

"Yeah, that's about it. But of course he can never know that's what they are. That would not be good,' said Amanda.

I came into view, but she was kissing him and didn't see me right away. I took the drinks in to them. Set them on the coffee table. They thanked me. I smiled and headed upstairs. My heart was broken and I no longer wanted to be anywhere near my personal whore.

Amanda saw me head upstairs, but I don't think she figured what I was about. They were pretty quiet while I was packing. Then I heard some conversation that seemed to be about me, but I couldn't quite hear. Packed, I headed for the guest room. I was lying on the bed, still fully clothed when a naked Amanda showed up at the door.

"You don't want to watch or get involved?" she said. Then she saw the suitcases.

"No, no, you go ahead and have your fun. I'm going to sleep in here tonight, but I'll be leaving in the morning," I said. "Don't let me disturb you."

"Robbie! What are you talking about?" she said. His largeness hadn't showed his face as yet. Figured it would be just a matter of time before he did though.

"Not into kid gloves and mercy fucks, Amanda. I mean I really am not," I said. She paled.

"Oh my God, you thought I meant those words," she said.

"Yep. That's what I thought. And, it's what I still think," I said.

"Robbie it's an act. One I will use again and again. Those—hemen—need to think themselves superior. It helps them do their duty better than they would if they were having to feel their way. 

"I should have warned you, but I didn't think of it until just now when you nailed me. Please, I'm begging you," she said. I was listening to her, and weighing the possibility that she was telling the truth. And, thinking about it, it made sense.

She knew I was less than twenty feet away in the next room. She had no way of knowing when I might suddenly reappear or stick my head in to ask a question—one olive or two or the like—so she had to know I might hear her. Okay, I could have been, and probably was wrong. I nodded, thoughtfully.

"Okay, say I believe you. Whaddya we do now?" I said.

"Uh—get on with things, I guess," she said. I nodded again. 

"Okay, but for now, I'm just going to stay in here. He may think me a wimpy-assed sissy, but I'm not, and I don't want to have to deal with the smirks," I said.

Just then his largeness filled the doorway behind her. "Mister Lundsford, if I may," he said. He'd startled me, but his tone of voice was the right one if he wanted me to be part of anything—it was—respectful.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't help overhearing the end of, well, your exchange with your wife here," he said. "I knew from the moment I met you that you were no sissy or wimp. And, I did think you were into the games, if that is indeed the right way to say it.

"But, if you care to know, I do believe that you're pussywhipped; you'd almost have to be. Your wife is half a foot taller than you, probably stronger than you physically, and certainly way out of your league beauty-wise and probably socially too, at any rate that's my opinion. That said...

"Just looking around, I can see you're a man of means. You probably have a high IQ. And, I expect that you are devoted to your woman, as I am certain she is devoted to you; in spite of the way things may look. 

"Look, and don't take this wrong, but this sex thing is my area of expertise. Let me lead. You need to follow my lead. Your wife too should follow. It can be good; I mean really good, for all concerned. And you can trust me; I will not be putting you down or insulting you behind your back. I'm after a good time, and I know how to have one. Okay?" he said, finishing up his spiel.

I'd sat up and was sitting on the edge of the bed. "You make a strong case mister Amundsen. You do indeed. So okay," I said.

******

They marched me—though gently, I thought—into the master bedroom and sat me down on Amanda's vanity stool. There was something purely erotic about my naked wife and her naked bull of the evening marching me—I was still fully clothed—into the bedroom where I would become a willing cuckold for the first time.

"Honey just sit for now. After things get going a little bit, if you want to join in, just do it. Don't ask, don't wait for a good moment; just come over; we'll make room for you, and you can do whatever you want. Okay?" said Amanda.

"Yeah, sure, if I feel the need," I said. But, I'll probably just watch you guys tonight. If that's all right."

"Of course it's all right. You're calling the shots for yourself, absolutely," said Amanda. "Well you are except—well—I mean if you do decide to join us, please wait until after you've been cuckolded okay? It's kind of an initiation for you. Okay." The man just nodded and kinda muttered his agreement. He did seem okay with what she'd said. I guess that was good.

"Yeah sure. After I've been cuckolded. Right" I said. "It was embarrassing her telling me I was going to be cuckolded. Of course that was the whole idea, but it was still humiliating.

They made out for a while virtually ignoring me. He massaged her breasts for a long time while letting his hands wonder down her belly to her slit. She jerked each time he touched her there, but she didn't try to influence where his hands went.

He slid down her body and began licking her pussy and her inner thighs. 

"Ready, girl?" he said.

"Uh-huh," she said. "Do me. Make my wimpy husband our cuckold," she said. She was looking right at me when she said it. I squirmed on my stool, but didn't say or do anything that mattered.

He aimed his tool expertly and slid in with but minimal difficulty. He'd evidently gotten her wet enough with his tongue. He push-pulled his cock in and out of her for a little bit until he had managed to embed his entire length inside of her, and it had to be a full ten inches for sure. 

Amanda had a glazed look in her eyes as he drilled her relentlessly for what seemed an eternity. The reality was that her screwing lasted maybe fifteen minutes, three times my usual. Yet another example of how to humiliate a cuckold husband.

I watched as he shuddered, stiffened, and unloaded his semen inside of her. He rolled off of her and she rolled on top of him, spun around and took his cock into her mouth. God it was hot watching her suck him back to life.

For his part, her bull was staring right into her pussy. He scooped up a little from her and licked his fingers. He motioned me to come over. He scooped up another finger load and offered it to me. I knelt beside the bed and licked his finger clean. Well, it was a hot moment, and I was as hard as I had ever been. I went back to my observation post. Chris winked at me. I guess he was trying to be non-threatening. And, I suppose I appreciated his efforts.

She'd gotten him hard and spun around and off of him, positioning herself so that he could take her doggy. Her butt was high in the air and her legs were spread invitingly. He took her. She screamed her discomfort as he took no prisoners driving himself into her. He banged her relentlessly. This time he lasted at least as long as the first time and my wife was dribbling spittle all over the pillow that she was grasping desperately with her hands. I think she was actually in some significant discomfort, but the good, for her, kind.

Finally it was over. They rested for a bit; well, I supposed they did because they were quiet. For my part, I had gone down stairs and mixed myself a drink, actually three by the time they came downstairs: him dressed to leave, her in her robe.

He shook my hand tendered me a few pleasantries, and then he was gone. 

Amanda motioned me to make her a drink. Well, I was sure she needed one.

We sat quietly sipping our drinks for a while, and then we went upstairs.

"You okay?" she said.

"Yeah sure," I said.

"We'll do the post mortem tomorrow, okay?" she said.

"Sure, no problem," I said.

"Uh, I should ask, you want to stay horny for morning, or do you need...?" she was obviously offering me some mercy. I declined.

"No, no, I can wait," I said, She looked at me hard, but didn't say anything.

We slept, I mean even me.

******

Okay score one for her team. It was a pretty good experience. I guess I was a willing cuckold, at least for the moment.

"Chris was nice wasn't he," said Amanda. We were eating pancakes. I still hadn't gotten any relief, but oddly, I was kinda turned off by her offer of the previous night. I mean, I shouldn't have been, but I was. And, she didn't make another offer. I thought that odd.

"Yes. Yes, he was. I had no big complaint. I felt a little strange watching you—I mean—well, I mean him fucking you. And his cock..." Amanda giggled.

"Yes, it was a big one wasn't it. I think it was the biggest one I've ever had!"

Her words made me uneasy. I wasn't sure, but I think she was developing, or, had already developed a thing for him, at least his almost foot long cock. One night-stands for fun and games were one thing, but something longer? No, that could not be allowed. I had to make that clear, and, get her to agree.

The problem was that I liked the guy too, and that was a problem. He'd been respectful and pleasant to us, never looking down on me or making any snide remarks. Trouble was, and that ironically, with that kind of behavior, he was a possible danger to me—to us. I had to make sure that Amanda knew and understood my misgivings; I mean if she decided she might want to bring him back for an encore. 

"Amanda," I started, "he's an okay guy and therefore in some ways more dangerous to us than some asshole with a big dick. I'm afraid you'll—what—become attached to him, and I'll be cut out, or worse, kicked out. Please don't ask him back. If you do, I might as well pack up again and fade quietly into the night. I mean it," I said. "I can't compete with him; I know I can't," I said.

"Look, Robbie, I've been doing this stuff for a long time. I've had other big dicks. And, yes his is a big one. But, dick size is not the only thing that makes these encounters worth the doing," she said.

"Oh?" I said. "Pray tell what other qualities do you require from the guys that cuckold me?"

"Well, from now on, mainly that they have to make it nice for you too. Christopher fills that bill. No put downs, no smirks, no unseemly demands. He's into me, and you, and into having a good time for himself. He's not going to be whispering sweet nothings in my ear or asking me to leave you. He's not!" she said.

And just like that I knew we were in trouble already, and maybe already on our way to divorce court.

"Can I ask you to be honest with me for a moment, Amanda." She sighed, but she shrugged her okay.

"Okay, I guess," she said.

"If he did ask you to leave me and marry him, would you do it?" I said.

"That's a stupid question, and he's never going to do anything like that," she said.

"And, that dear wife does not answer my question. But, then again I guess it does. The answer is you would leave me," I said.

"No. I did not say that, I did not," she said. Now, I smirked.

"Yes, you did, just not with words," I said. She walked off in a huff, but I had my answers to my two questions. One, she would leave me for the guy if he asked; I was sure of that. And two, she had every intention of having him back whether I agreed or not. Both realities sealed my fate. I would be gone before the week was out. And this time, I'd not give her the opportunity to stop me. I could at least save a little face if not my heart by cutting country.

******

It was Friday, a week later. We'd not talked about Christopher or cuckolding or any of it during that period of time. I think she thought of it as giving me time to settle down and cool off. But, I wasn't cooling off. I got sicker at heart virtually by the hour. It was late Friday afternoon that she decided to pin me. I'd gotten off early, and she'd gotten off from Hammond's a tad earlier than usual too. Her look told me she thought that I was calmer now, and that maybe it was a good time to make her pitch.

"Robbie, we okay?" she said. I just looked at her and tendered her a wan smile. She took that to mean that we were okay.

"Robbie, I called Chris. He's coming over tomorrow night. We're going to cuckold you again, but afterwards you and I will be getting it on big time. And, I do mean big time. Okay?" she said. It was interesting that in the entire week since our last encounter, I hadn't even gotten so much as one sexy kiss; She apparently hadn't even noticed. But, now, she was saying, that if I was good tomorrow night I would be rewarded—her words—big time. I know she thought by throwing me that particular carrot that I would be okay with her plans, or if not exactly okay, at least accepting of my fate. She could not have had so much as an inkling of how wrong she was.

"Do you realize, Amanda, that I have not gotten so much as a kiss from you since he was here last week?" I said. I said it calmly, almost resignedly.

"What? Wha—? Robbie, I didn't—don't—really? Oh my God! Oh my. Well, I am going to be doubly good to you tomorrow. I promise to not ever neglect you like that again. Okay?"

"What about now?" I said. "I mean if you're good to go..."

"Uh—uh—sure. We could do it now if you need a little something to hold you till tomorrow," she said. "Let's go upstairs." Her smile was so forced that I was afraid her face would crack.

"Yeah, well, never mind. Your enthusiasm is almost scary," I said.

"Robbie—I didn't mean—anyway tomorrow is going to be very special for you. I promise." She was almost hyperventilating trying to be positive.

"Whatever, Amanda. Whatever," I said. "Just forget it." She decided to take a different tack.

"Robbie, quit that now. Stop being like that. Stop moping around. You love being my little cucky, and you know it. So, behave yourself and take what you can get, what I'm offering you. And, as for Chris being the bull of the moment, just deal with it. Okay?" I just walked off. I know she was maybe pissed at me or maybe herself, but I was also certain that I'd shaken her with my comments.

I left her the mandatory note.

"Amanda, 

I love you more than anything, and I could maybe even have gotten my head around being your cuckold; but, I cannot deal with you not being honest with me. My leaving will save us both a ton of heartache; of that I am sure.

"I will send you a notarized power of attorney, so you can sell the house or do whatever you want with whatever you and I used to have together. Best to you and I hope that your future will be a happy one. I love you.

Your Robbie

*******

I still had my cell and it had been going off for the past day and a half, but of course I didn't answer it when I saw who it was. Then she adopted a different ploy; she used an unidentified land line. I answered it the first time, but as soon as I heard her voice, I destroyed the cell and ditched the fragments in a dumpster out back of an eatery I'd stopped at along my retreat from her and everything I had so long held dear.

I pulled into the Super-9 Motel's parking lot just as it was getting dark; and, if it matters, just as I was running out of steam physically. I couldn't drive another mile, not and survive. 

Ten minutes later I was sacked out in my clothes on a very nice queen sized bed in a very quiet part of a very quiet town. The town? Some crossroads name of Mackville. The sign declared pop. 1,581. Oh, and it's in the state of Montana. 

I wondered what was going through the mind of the woman five hundred miles southeast of me.

******

He knocked, and she answered.

"Oh, hello Chris," said Amanda.

"Hey girl, and hello to you too. You're not tryin to kill me with enthusiasm are you?" he said smiling. "I mean you were expecting me, you and Rob. Right?"

"Uh—no, no, truth is I forgot you were coming over. I've had a lot on my mind today," said Amanda.

"Okay, okay, something's wrong big time. Give," he said.

"Robbie left me. He felt threatened by you" she said.

"Me! I did my level best to not be threatening," he said.

"Yes, and ironically he appreciated that and actually likes—liked—you. The irony, in that? You were so nice he figured that you were the kind of guy that could take me away from him, and he just couldn't deal with that fear," she said. She caught his look.

"Chris?"

"I have to tell you, Amanda, he had it right. Well, I mean that I would very much love to have you to myself. I don't think you know just what a rare flower you are. Eventually, if you gave me any encouragement, I would have made a move on you. I wouldn't have made the first move. But if you did..."

"Oh shit!" she said.

"Chris you hardly know me. How can you say things like that?" she said.

"Amanda, I haven't had a ton of experience with women; I've had ten tons of it. I know you better than you know you. And, Rob too if it comes to that," he said.

"You and I are a perfect fit. You and Rob—not so much," he said. "I mean, he's an okay guy; hell, he's a good guy. But, nowhere near being in your league. Not even," he said. She stared at him.

"Huh?" she said.

"Amanda, if he's really left you, and if you have any sense at all; you'll divorce him for abandonment and marry me at the earliest opportunity. I mean it. Hell, I might as well make it official now," he said.

He dropped down on his knees. "Amanda, will you marry me after your divorce?" he said.

"Huh?" she said.

"Not rocket science, babe," he said.

"Okay, yes," she said.

It was a moment of clarity for Amanda Lundsford. Her husband had had it right. What bothered her was the undeniable fact that she hadn't even cried that her husband had abandoned her. She did feel a little remorse and a little sadness about the whole mess, but no more than that. She did wonder how he was doing. 

******

During the week before my departure, I had taken care of all of the mandatory pre-running away stuff. I cleaned out my retirement fund basically my personal investments, my annual leave, and half of our savings, some $250,000 in all; well, we had been living kinda high on the hog. I'd sequester the largest part of my stash for some so far undefined future goal, and forget about it until the need arose to remember it.

I left the checking account and the rest of the savings untouched. She'd be okay; her part was something more than $90,000, mostly in certs of deposits. Apart from those, she had her car, I had mine. She'd also be getting the house. Yes, she'd be okay. Everything else I'd packed amounted to just my personal things. I was actually traveling light.

She didn't know where I was, but that didn't mean that she couldn't get hold of me. About a week after my leaving I got the email. 

Robbie,

I guess I blew it huh. Well it is what it is, I guess. Since you have decided that we are at an end, I am not going to fight it. I've seen an attorney. Attached is a divorce proposal. I hope it's okay. If you could see your way clear to include some alimony, even a little, I'd appreciate it. But, since you obviously don't have a job anymore maybe the point is moot. I would like the house though, as you promised in your note to me.

Hope you're okay. 

Love,

Amanda

Short and sweet, that's my Amanda, I thought. The next day, after having received it, I drove two hundred miles farther on in order to take care of the necessary things. I didn't want her to know where I was staying, and Billings was far enough away to pretty much ensure that she wouldn't.

I arrived in Billings at noon. Got a bite to eat, and asked the waitress if she knew where I could find a law office.

Carl Merry, attorney at law, and yes that's a real name, was at least seventy. The power of attorney was pretty much pro forma. The emailed divorce proposal she'd sent me was a shock, but then again, it wasn't. I didn't know if Chris was a part of the action, but I was of the opinion that he likely was.




Rob and Amanda Lundsford



She didn't ask for anything, but the house. Well, she did ask about alimony, but didn't demand it. I sent off my reply, well, mister Merry did. It would be several years, eight actually, before I would be hearing from Amanda again, and then it was kind of a quirk of fate.

******

The We Smalls was a bar and grill that stayed open twenty-four hours, seven days a week including all holidays. Hal Marquist, the owner believed that his type of business had to be open when customers wanted it to be open. Booze was only available from noon to 2:00AM, but anything else could be gotten any time. He hired me on the spot as a bookkeeper and part time bartender. The money was paltry compared to what I was used to, but I only had me to worry about so it didn't really matter.

I was able to afford a small wood-frame by the end of my second year. Most of the money from my retirement fund was sequestered and would stay that way. But, what I'd been able to save allowed me to purchase the house without an unduly large mortgage. It was only two bedroom and single car garage, but that was okay by me. Like I said it was only me to worry about. 

Did I think about Amanda? No, not really, no more than every minute of every day. But, I knew I would have gotten the axe if I'd stayed, so leaving at least allowed me to save myself from that particular humiliation. The heartache? Not so much.

My social life, if it could be so described, consisted of hanging out at the bar, The We Smalls, and occasionally dancing with this or that lady on Saturday nights. The DJ, a local kid, played dance music on Friday and Saturday nights, but Friday night was one of the three nights a week I put in time behind the bar. The other two days were Sunday and Monday.

The divorce had become final some few months after I had signed and returned her proposal to her—with the marked changes. No, she didn't get any alimony from me. And she didn't complain about it either, well, not to me.

"Hi Steph," I said as she sidled up to me.

"How yuh doin' tonight, Robbie," she said.

"Okay, just hangin' out," I said. She nodded 

"Me too. Travis dumped me. Actually told me I was too old for him. I'm four years older than he is for Chryssakes! He's fourteen years older than the chickee he ditched me for. I hope his cock rots off," she said. I snickered.

"This makes what—the third time he's dumped on you. You'd think you'd have gotten the message by now. He's just using you, girl. You should forget him and get on with things, on with your life," I said.

"Look at me, Robbie. I'm forty-five. I'm too short at four-eleven. I'm chunky if not actually fat. My hair is frowsy. My clothes, the ones I'm wearing tonight, I actually bought at the Goodwill Thrift Store. What man would want a girl like me? No I have to grin and bear it and hope that sooner or later Travis will get his head on straight and realize that I'm the one who actually loves him, not the teenyboppers he keeps trying to impress with his sports car," said Stephanie Ann Rutledge: dental assistant at Marrs Dental, and sweetness personified.

"Well, since you're into comparisons tonight, what about me? I'm taller than you, but you're about the only woman in town that I can say that about. And, hell, I'm so skinny what woman would want me?" I said.

"I see you in here, Rob. You always have a girl on your arm," she said. "And, you're a heckuva dancer."

"Yeah, I can dance, and I can get first and second dates. But after one or two it's over between whoever it is and me," I said.

"Huh? Why?" she said.

"Your turn to look at me. I'm taller than you, but, again, you're about the only female in town I can say that about," I said. "And, then there is the matter of my love making skills, since we're getting it all out there; I ain't much in that department, I'm afraid." Her turn to snicker.

"You gotta date for tonight?" she said.

"No, just chillin' I think is how they say it these days," I said.

"You horny?" she said.

"You have no—wait a minute. You offerin'?" I said. She smiled, took my hand, and led me outside.

"Where's your car?" she said. 

"Over there," I said, pointing.

"Let's go. I need it. You need it. No skills or not, we'll just make do," she said. "Just let momma take the lead okay?"

"You got it woman. You do indeed," I said. 

Her apartment was small, sparsely furnished, and spotless. I knew then, or thought I knew, that here was a woman whose assets were not limited to being just skin deep. And, I was about to discover just how right my impression was.

She went immediately into the kitchen leaving me to my own devices in the miniature front room. A room with a two-seater couch or love seat, a straight backed chair, and a non-descript coffee table that could have been made of redwood, but had clearly been lacquered more than once.

Returning, she handed me a glass of wine in a plastic stem glass; the kind sometimes seen at parties and other such events.

"Just dago-red, I'm afraid," she said. "The fancy stuff will have to wait until I marry me a millionaire." She laughed at her own self-deprecation.

"No problem, Steph, it's my kind of grape juice," I said. It wasn't that bad either. We'd had three glasses before she grew impatient with me.

"Whatsamatter, sailor, not interested in screwing me?" she said. And yes, I'd been dallying.

"No, no, nothing like that. It's just..." I started.

"You're not worried I'll laugh at your cock or skills are you?" she said. My silence confirmed her suspicions. She came to me.

She kissed me, gently, sexily. She let her hand slide down to my cock and felt its hardness through the fabric of jeans.

"Not bad, not threatening for sure, but it is clearly more than ready to do me," she said. She slid to her knees and began unbuttoning my pants. She pulled them down and eye'd the bulge in my underpants. 

I swallowed hard. I was feeling very nervous. I'd still not gotten over what my wife had done to me years before, eight years now, I realized. What would this waif of a woman have to say when she saw it; I wasn't that small, but nothing extra either. Oh, I knew I was going to be fucking her. But, would it lead to a second date down the road? Would tonight be nothing but a variety of mercy fuck? Any more rejections and I would pretty much be done with my reserves of self-esteem.

My underpants were next. She stared at all six not-really-fat inches of my sex engine. "Hmm, not that bad. And at least you won't hurt me when you take my butt," she said. I looked her askance. Amanda had never let me do that.

I pulled back from her and completed undressing myself; she did the same. We were naked in less than a full minute, I was sure.

She led me to the couch, kissed me, knelt on it, and looked back at me.

"Take me from behind first. I love it doggy." Then she spread her knees wide enough for me to get a good look at her pussy and her anus. God she was woman, I mean woman! I thought.

"I knelt behind her and licked her up and down her pussy and her crack. She actually tasted sweet to me. I stood and pushed into her. She grunted; well, I do have kind of a fat cock if not an extra long one.

"I seesawed in and out of her slowly enjoying my first real fuck in a long time, in over a year and a half actually. Since my divorce I'd been laid but three times; this was the fourth. She said she needed it bad; but, I was pretty damn sure I needed it more than she did.

I came pretty quick the first time. But then, after a little panting and resting, I hit my stride. I took her missionary and then I got her butt. She'd sucked me hard for each go 'round. I could get used to a steady diet of this, I thought.

******

You seem pensive today," said Christopher.

"No, no, I just can't keep from recalling the old days, and how he and I got on. How we never had to worry about paying the bills. I hope he's all right. Probably rich by now while you and I are just getting by," said Amanda. He gave her a you-should-appreciate-me-more stare

"Why do you keep worrying over him? Because he was a hot shot salesman when he was here? He lives in freakin' Montana for chryssakes. He's just another guy, Mandy. And we're doing fine," said Christopher. "He's probably bagging grocery at some ma and pa operation." She snickered.

"Yeah maybe—or—maybe not," she said. "I just wish I could've talked to him. I do feel so guilty about how I treated him."

"It was his fantasy, girl. He just couldn't live with the fallout. I never would've made a move on you if he were still around. But, he left; he cut country leaving you high and dry. Frankly, the man owes you an abject apology," said Christopher.

"Haruumph! Uh-huh, and of course it took me so long to dump his memory in the trash heap of sexual ne'er do wells and take up with you. Yeah, I was a paragon of steadfast love," she said, about as sarcastically as she'd ever said anything.

"You need what I can give you. He just didn't have it. And you were and are so far out of his league. He's a foot shorter than you for chryssakes. Hell, if you had to fight a man like him physically, you'd win! Me, on the other hand, could whip your glassy ass any day of the week," he said, smiling.

"Yeah right," she snickered, "because you're such a macho man."

"Whatever," he said.

"I—I—I want to find him and talk to him," she said. "I need him back. You need to help me."

"We don't know where he lives," he said.

"No, but we know where his lawyer does his thing: Billings, Montana," she said. He scowled.

"Yeah right, like we're going to be searching the hamlets of hill country for this guy. And what do we do about our jobs?" he said.

"We can take leave. I've got a busload coming. And I know your boss at the toy factory will let you off for a couple of weeks," she said. He shook his head.

"It's a fool's errand. The man dumped you, not you him. He wants it this way," said Christopher.

******

My night with Stephanie had been an eye opener for me. Her pussy had been so tight. Her low pitched screams as she orgasmed, her devilish look as she took my load of cream, and told me I'd have to eat it out of her: all of it bespoke the reality that I could please women, at least some women. All in all she was a turn on like I'd never experienced before, not even with Amanda in our salad days. Then it was the next day, and a typhoon of shit hit the fan. 

Travis moved in to reclaim his woman for the fourth consecutive time essentially cutting me out of the equation. Stephanie was nice about it, when she broke the news to me, she told me how wonderful a lover I was, but how she just had to be with "her" man. I wished her well, and told her to give me a call if she ever needed me again. She smiled and promised to do just that. Then, I went back to my cruisin' ways.

And then the two of them walked in, while I was seated at the bar, and greeted me all smiley and full of grace.

"Hi, Robbie," said Amanda. 

"Hello, Rob," said Christopher.

"What the fuck," I said. "What are you two doing here? Waited this long to rub it in have you?" I said.

"Robbie..." started Amanda.

"Amanda, I left to make it easier on you to get rid of me. I knew it was coming, and him being here with you proves that particular pudding does it not?" I said. "I don't know how you found me, but I'd appreciate it if the two of you would saddle up and ride; get the hell back wherever you came from. I've got a new life here, and I really don't need to be reminded how you destroyed me eight years ago. I really don't." I was not being nice.

"Robbie, please. Five minutes. Then, well, if you really want me to leave, I will. Okay?" she said. I saw Stephanie come in. She eye'd me quizzically, but kept her distance.

"Five minutes? And you'll leave me alone forevermore?" I said.

"Yes, if that's the way you want it," she said.

"Okay, start talking," I said. I was still seated at the bar, and was making no move to get a table or cooperate in any manner whatsoever.

"Could we..." she said, glancing around for a more—I supposed—private venue. "Could we move over there?" Two minutes later we were seated around a table for four near the back.

I sat back waiting, wondering what she could possible want to tell me. I had to think that she was wanting to rub my nose in it—as unlikely as that would seem—otherwise why would she had brought Tanto along to ride shotgun.

"Robbie, I guess I should start, okay? I mean since I've only got five minutes," she said. I spread my hands indicating a get-on-with-it gesture.

"Robbie when you left I was adrift. I had no one. Chris here filled that void, or I would have had no one to turn to," she said.

"Fill the void? The void you say. Could you be a little more explicit as to which void you're referring to?" I said. 

"Robbie!" she half screamed, frustrated.

"If you'll recall, Amanda, I predicted as much. That, whether I were there or not."

"No, no it wasn't like that..." she said.

"Yes, it was. I begged you not to invite him back. But, my begging fell on deaf ears; that ended us. I needed you there for me, but you were only there for you, Amanda—and, maybe him," I said.

"I was there for you, Robbie. I needed you," she said.

"Yeah, to pay the bills. Tell me how's it going with you two. Making a killing in the market?" I said. "Got good jobs?"

She looked down. "It's been kinda tough, but we're getting by, I guess you could say," she said. I didn't snicker; I wanted to, but I didn't.

"Okay, get to it, Amanda. Why are you here? You come to get me to give you money? Help you pay your way?" I said.

"Rob," butted in Tanto, "that's not why we're here. She's here, we're here, for two reasons. One, to see if you were okay. We've long been worried about you, and I do mean the both of us. And, two, to apologize to you for me being or appearing to be a threat to you; though I swear if you'd stayed, I never would have gotten into your personal—married—life. I would have studiously made the effort to be outside of you two. But, that said, once you left; well, I saw the coast as clear, and Amanda available. She was good enough to say okay, and so yes we, well, we sorta got together."

"Really?" I said.

"Robbie, yes and no," said Amanda. "Chris is partly right. I—at least I—am indeed here to apologize. And, we were both worried about you. But, there is more, and this one is on me, not Chris," she said.

"Robbie, I would have eventually left you for Chris. Maybe he wouldn't have made a move on me, and I believe him when he says so. But..."

"But, you would have made a move on him, right," I said. She didn't bat an eye.

"Yes," she said. I nodded. "Eventually, I would've dumped you."

"Okay, then, your mission's over. You've apologized. You see I'm fine. Now you can leave," I said.

It was as though it only happened the day before not eight years before. I was once again sick to my stomach. I just wanted them to leave. I guess I had gone pensive.

"Robbie?" she said. I looked over to her.

"What?" I said.

"You okay," she said. "I wanted to be on the up and up with you—finally. You'd know if I lied. This might be the last time I see you, and I didn't want to leave with a lie separating us." I nodded.

"Goodbye, Amanda. Good luck." I said. I rose to go.

"Rob?" said Christopher Amundsen.

"What?" I said.

What Amanda said was the truth, but we also had kind of a side agenda. Kind of an offer," he said.

"Amanda?" I said, looking from the big man over to her.

"Robbie, we—Chris and I—would be honored, thrilled really—if you would well, join us," she said.

"Join you? What are you talking about?" I said.

"You know..." she started.

"In bed, Rob. In bed," interrupted Chris. I know my mouth was hanging open a yard.

"Huh? What? Huh? You mean have sex with the two of you?" I said.

"There'd be no shame in it. No put downs; I think you know that," she said.

"I have no words," I said, about as sarcastically as I ever said anything. "You're saying..."

"Robbie, we've done our homework. I hope you won't be mad or take this wrong, but we checked things out rather thoroughly; we didn't just show up here," said Amanda.

"Checked things out?" I said.

"Robbie, we know you don't have a girlfriend, haven't had, since, well, since you came here. If you've had any sex, it's been rare; we understand; it's harder for a guy. I—we—want to fix that. I mean anytime you want or feel the need. We'd be thrilled. Really," she said. I started to choke on my own bile.

"Get the fuck outta here. Get out," I said. I stood. All five-foot-four of me was ready to take on King Kong and her too if it came to that. I was that humiliated.

"Robbie, damn it, don't be like that. Don't let your insufferable male ego get in the way of taking care of your needs—hell, my needs too. It could be good for you. You know it and I know it," she said.

"Rob, you wouldn't be our cuckold anymore, in fact, I'd be your cuckold. You oughta think about it. It's a bona fide offer, no expiration date," said Chris, rejoining the conversation.

He'd monetarily stopped me. Him my cucky? It was a tantalizing thought. The difference is that as my cuckold, he would still be in control of the situation, and I'd still be sucking hind tittie, and cut it anyway you'd want he stole my wife. No, it wouldn't work—horny as hell though I was.

"Just go both of you, okay. And it's not about my male ego, Amanda; it's all about my utter and near desperate humiliation—again. It's more than I can bear, more than any man could bear," I said.

"Okay for now, Robbie. We'll go. But we'll be here for one more day. And we're coming back here tomorrow night to dance. Maybe you could at least see your way clear to dance with me once or twice. We used to cut quite a rug as I recall," she said. And then they were gone, and I was left with my thoughts.

They were gone no more than a minute before Stephanie joined me at the table. Travis was sidled up against the bar, talking to the barkeep.

"That was her wasn't it?" she said. I nodded.

"Yes. And him too," I said. 

"She's tall, and him—beefcake for sure. I hate to say it, but if we're going by appearances alone; he's gonna come away with the prize," said Steph. I snickered.

"Yeah, I know. I knew it eight years ago, and left before he claimed his—prize. It was humiliating enough knowing it was bound to happen," I said. Her turn to nod.

"But, and well, looks are not everything. Maybe when one is a teenager, but not when we become serious adults," she said.

"Yeah maybe," I said.

"So what did they want?" she said. "Why were they here?" 

"They want me to join them in bed," I said. "She claims she needs me?"

"Can't be money, you're mister average for damn sure," said Stephanie. I gave her a look that belied my thoughts.

"I guess they'll be going back to wherever they came from. I saw how you all but threw them out, their size notwithstanding," she said.

"Yeah, maybe, but not yet. Said they were coming back tomorrow night," I said.

"Hmm, really," said Stephanie. "That'll be interesting."

******

It was Saturday night and I was sitting at a table for four with Stephanie and Travis. And, yes, we'd been discussing whether or not the two interlopers of the night before might or might not show. Did I care if they did? I wasn't sure.

"They just walked in," said Travis. He flashed me a smile. "Decision time."

"Yeah, right," I said, as I tilted back my brew.

They'd seen us. I got a wave from the each of them. I nodded.

I danced a couple of times with Stephanie, and my ex danced a couple of times with the man who had made me his cuckold. I kept getting looks.

The DJ took a break. I split momentarily from Stephanie and headed for the bar. Imagine my surprise when I found her sitting in my seat upon my return from ordering the drinks. I stared at her.




Rob and Amanda Lundsford



"Got a minute cowboy?" she said. Her smile was wide. I continued to stare.

"Yeah, maybe one," I said. My voice was flat.

Stephanie signaled her beau to take her on a tour of the other tables and some of their many friends thereat ensconced.

"That was nice of your friends," said Amanda.

"They're nice people," I said. She nodded. 

"Any chance of getting you to ask me to dance, Robbie? For old time's sake?" she said.

"I'm not going to be playing second fiddle to your new husband under any circumstances, Amanda. Not before, not now, not ever. I don't know how to make it any clearer than that," I said.

"My husband? Chris and I aren't married," she said. "Did I say we were married?"

"Well..."

"Robbie, there will never be a husband for me again, unless you want to apply for the job—again. In truth, I did consider Chris, and he did ask me; but, I knew it would never work. Not in the long run. The sex? Primo. He's not just better than you at sex, Robbie, he's better than any man I ever met. And, on some level I love the guy. No, that's not right. I appreciate him.

"I appreciate him because he never put you down, never tried to make me forget you, never pressured me. I appreciated that about him. And, when your income suddenly disappeared; he was there for me. Now we live together, fuck a lot, and share expenses. I think the term is roommates with benefits. He's content; I'm resigned and usually satisfied in obvious ways; but there is always the elephant in the room, you; and no, that is not a slap at you being so short. 

"Do you know, we have separate rooms? When we fuck we sometimes overnight in one or the other's rooms, but otherwise we give each other space," she said.

She'd not surprised me; she'd shocked me. I wasn't exactly speechless, but I was more than slow to react.

"I see I've surprised you," she said.

"Yes," I said. "You have." I finally woke up and realized that he wasn't with her—at the moment that is. "Where is your man?" Her eyes travelled over in the direction of the bar. I nodded.

"So what do you want, Amanda? I mean from me?" I said.

"Short run or long run?" she said.

"Say the short run," I said.

"A dance or two, like I said last night," she said.

"Okay," I said. I could see the DJ returning. He'd be doing his thing in short order. I offered her my hand; she took it; and she led me out on the dance floor. The first dance was a slow number, and she pressed herself against me discovering in the process—no doubt—that I had a potato in my pants pocket: a large white rose potato.

"That for me, sailor," she said, smirking. I looked up into her eyes, and I posed the next question.

"And, in the long run?" I said.

"If I could get it the way I want it?" she countered.

"Yes, okay, for now," I said.

"Have you back as my husband. Like before everything..." she said.

"And what about the Christophers of the world," I said. She sighed. 

"I need them, but I can do without them if I have to in order to get what I really want and need.

"Robbie, we'll be leaving tomorrow. Any chance that tonight...?" she said.

"Too soon. But, that said, you did give me something to think about? Maybe," I said. "Leave me your number. Okay?" I said.

"Okay," she said.

We danced several more times, and then the big man claimed his prize and they were gone. I thought about that. They weren't married, she'd said. Of course I believed her. But, it was clear married or not; he was a helluva lot more to her than a roommate with benefits. Well, or so it seemed to me.

******

She had left me her number. Would I call her? I wanted to and I didn't want to; talk about catch 22s. But a month later—I did.

She answered the door. "Welcome, handsome," said Amanda. "It is so good to see you. I must admit I was concerned that you might not come. I mean even after your call." She spoke all of this while leading me back into the house that used to be ours. She'd not sold it, as I had thought she might. That surprised me.

"Thank you, Amanda. I almost didn't, but..."

"But, you did, Robbie, and I thank you for doing so," she said. I nodded. It was a noncommittal nod. 

"Robbie, are we okay?" she said. "Me and Chris, we're just friends. And, I'd like to assure you that he wants to be your friend too. Okay?"

"Okay? Am I okay? Relative to what? I'm here to maybe get a piece of primo ass that I should never have been denied in the first place. And yes I know you never actually said I would be denied. But, what you did say, was that you would have eventually left me for him. Kind of a killer of the old hopes, dreams, self-esteem if you know what I mean," I said. She nodded.

"And, yes, I am horny enough to eat my pride and take what I can get," I said.

"I guess that's so what you said about me eventually leaving you for Chris. But, right now, for what it's worth, you will get my ass. And, I mean immediately and without Chris being here," she said. "I want to give it to you. I need you, Robbie. I really really need you, and not for your income either. And—later we'll talk about the other stuff. Okay?"

"Okay, that's good," I said. "I mean you not caring about my money making prowess because I work for peanuts now. I'm not into the markets anymore. So, you might have your chance to prove what you just said." She gave me a look. 

"Okay then, let's do it," she said, finally. She stood and extended her hand. She led me up the stairs to our room, our old room.

She sat me on the bed and began to undress. Jesus she was a stunner, even at her now age of forty-four. Tits were primo, ass was matchless, bare pubes enslaving, hair, smell, figure: the woman had no physical downsides; Helen of Troy launched a thousand ships; Amanda Lundsford could've launched the entire American high seas battle fleet.

I swallowed as she came to me and undressed me. God! It was sensuous. My dick poked her in the belly and she played at screaming her fear at the length and girth of my sex engine would be too much. I played at assuring her how gentle I intended to be. It was a good moment.

I knelt in front of her and licked her secret places. Urging her with my hands to turn around, I spread her ass cheeks and licked and sucked and adored her nether places. She turned and pushed me away.

She mounted the bed and pushed her butt high into the air inviting me to take her doggy. I did. Boy did I and gentle never entered into it. I rammed her for all I was worth. Several minutes later, she grunted, squirted, and came big time. I was ten seconds behind her. I actually felt proud of myself: I hadn't left her hanging.

I rolled off to the side of her as she collapsed onto her belly. Neither of us said word one for some little time. She broke the verbal impasse.

"What happened to the gentleness part?" she said. I snickered.

"I was kidding about that one," I said.

"Hmm, I guess you were," she said. We cuddled and slept for a little bit. I awoke to noises in the bathroom. She was on the cell.

"No, not tonight," I heard her say; figured it had to be his largeness. "Tonight's for him, but you can come to dinner. And do call me tomorrow; we should know more by then. Okay, yeah, that'd be good. Bye," she said.

She came out of the bathroom, and passed me; I faked being out of it. She headed downstairs.

I lay awake thinking. The sex was the best. A whole night of it would be indescribably fantastic. But, was it in me to share her with another man? It hadn't been till now, not another full time man at any rate. Her coming to me five hundred miles away and talking me into having her was a major shock, and, one might add, temptation, a temptation that I had all too easily succumbed to. She was irresistible. I had a decision to make.

******

I decided that I had to know where I really stood with her relative to his largeness. I decided to bug her; well, her purse that is. I had my mini recorder. It was old, but still in good condition. I'd used it before primarily for notes to myself about investments and business matters; I found that better than carrying around notebooks and pens. No one else's voice had ever been on it except mine; that would now change.

"Rob, I will be going out for a little while. Would that be all right? I mean to leave you to your own devices for a couple of hours?" she said.

"Sure, no problem," I said.

"Okay, good, I need to get my hair done. It's been a while," she said. I didn't know what she was talking about; her hair looked great. But, I was pretty sure that if she did get her hair done she'd also be catching up with mister Amundsen too. Regardless, the mini recorder buried deep in her knapsack sized purse would very likely be delivering the truth of the matter in any event. 

It was three and a half hours before she finally pulled into the driveway. I didn't care. It was okay. I wondered if she'd make any apologies for her tardiness. I planned to be more than magnanimous if she did. I just wanted to get my recorder out of her purse. I had my fingers crossed.

She caught me sipping coffee and listening to a football game on the radio. And, yes, some of us actually like listening to the radio. State was winning, so I was happy. She caught me smiling and I could see her face relax.

"Listening to the game?" she said.

"Yep, and state just scored. We're up by three," I said. "You hair looks nice." She evidently had gone to the salon. Wheresoever else I hoped to soon know.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "Uh—I talked to Chris a little bit ago too," she said. That's partly why I'm late."

She'd more or less surprised me. "No, problem," I said. "How is the big guy?"

She smiled at my friendly tone. "Fine. He's fine. I asked him to come over tonight for dinner. I mean he has been living here for a long time. I mean if it's all right with you," she said. She'd not surprised me. And, truth told I wasn't concerned about him coming over—yet. After I heard what they'd said about me, that might change, I knew. But for the moment magnanimity was the order of the day.

I decided to test the waters a little. "Am I going to be in the way? I mean you know?" I said. She actually looked shocked.

"My God of course not! Absolutely not. I don't want you to ever leave. It's just, well, he is kind of part of us if that's the way to say it. Now, I didn't smile. I didn't frown either. I just shrugged.

She put on a questioning expression but asked no questions. I was pretty sure she knew all of the answers to anything she might have wanted to ask me, so silence was her modus operandi. "Anyway, dinner will be at 6:00," she said. I nodded.

"I'm going to take a shower if that's all right," she said. "I won't be long. Okay?"

"Of course it's all right. Do what you've got to do. I'll be fine," I said. She came to me, hugged me, turned, headed upstairs and left me to my own devices.

Amanda was nothing if not a creature of habit. She dumped her purse where she always had, on the credenza in the dinette. As soon as she disappeared into the upstairs bedroom, I retrieved my recorder.

I knew she'd be at least half an hour getting herself sorted out. I grabbed one of her lover's beers from the frig and headed out to the patio. She'd have to come downstairs to see me, and I'd see her coming before she could make it outside.

I had my radio with me and had the game on. My recorder was in my pocket and my earplugs were feeding me the recording I hoped would let me know more than I currently did about where I actually stood with her.

I got lucky, she went to see him before she went to the salon: their conversation was at the beginning of the recording.

******

"Missed you last night," he said, in his most engaging tone of voice.

"I know, me too," she said. "But, he's going to be skittish for a while. You being there last night, and even tonight for the sex thing, and him comparing himself to you—well—it just wouldn't work, Chris. If I'm going to get him back, and then convince him to go get his job back; well, I have to cater to his needs as opposed to ours, yours and mine, first."

"Yeah, I guess. How was he last night?" he said.

"Better than he used to be. But, he was so horny that I think he was making a strenuous effort to not screw up," she said. "I don't think he's been getting any or very much, at any rate. If I'm any judge, he's actually desperate sex-wise; I mean really."

"Yeah, I can bet he is," he said. "You know, I've been thinking these past few weeks."

"Yes," she said.

"Well, I know you stayed with the guy because of his money making skills. But, I have to ask what was the original attraction of the guy? I mean you married him before he was making the big bucks. There had to be some other reason at the time," he said. She smirked.

"You really don't have a whole lot of respect for the intelligence of women, or at least me, do you, Chris?" she said.

"Of course I do, but you couldn't have predicted the kind of success he was going to be, economically, I mean when you first married him," he said.

"Oh, you are so wrong. I did predict it. And, I did my level best to support him and encourage him to work hard and to make it big. And he did. True he exceeded my expectations, and his too I'm pretty sure. But, I was more than certain that Rob Lundsford was going to be the cat's meow in the income department right from the git-go. Oh yeah. He just had that air about him. In school he let nothing get in the way of his being the best at everything he tried," she said.

"Except sex," he said, smiling.

"Hmm, even there he wasn't the worst that's ever fucked me. He was okay, just not exciting. And he needs sex; I'm sure of that; he just doesn't think that mastering it is all that important. More's the pity."

"You couldn't have taught him some stuff," he said.

"I did. But, in the end his cock is so average, and he is so goddamn short. I'm actually embarrassed to be seen with him socially; of course I can never let him know that; and, as for that, I've almost made that mistake on a few occasions; it makes me shiver to even think about it. Anyway, sexually and socially he's not of much use. Well, except as a dancer. He's better than you at that. Better than most actually; socially it's his one saving grace," she said.

"So, what's the plan? How do we get him onboard?" he said. She sighed.

"Initially, I let him fuck me raw, drain himself. After that we handle him like a very expensive thoroughbred. Lots of love, attention, good food, and absolutely never let him think he's second in line. If we can do those, I'm pretty sure I can put a collar and leash on him, and get him to do what I want. But, it's going to be a very delicate operation at least in the beginning.

"And, me?" he said.

"Let me put it this way. He can pull down half a mil annual if he's motivated. I make 31K annual, you what, twenty-five at the factory?" she said. 

"Twenty-eight," he said. His tone was almost morose.

"Yeah, well between us we make, what, one tenth what he can? It's a no brainer. You can stay at the house, Chris, in fact that's part of the strategy; but he's gonna be the focus for some time to come. Either that, or we can just continue to do our fine dining at Macdonald's and Der Wiener Schnitzel," she said. "I do like the kraut dogs." She wasn't quite being sarcastic.

"Well, okay, you're the boss. So what time do I show up tonight," he said.

I saw her coming down the stairs and put my mini away. I'd heard enough anyway.

******

Time is the one thing over which no one has any significant control. We flatter ourselves, we homo sapiens, that while we may not have the answer as to how time passes more slowly on some days than others, we someday will. Regardless, this day had passed infinitely more slowly than yesterday. And my impatience to get the mandatory final meeting with my betrayer over with was driving me nuts.

The above said, time did pass, and six o'clock did finally make its appearance on the kitchen wall clock. I heard the knock at the front door. She went to answer it. It seemed strange to me that the man who had taken my place, and had lived in the house for the past several years, should have felt the need to knock. But he did, and that was that. He likely wouldn't be tomorrow.

"Hello, Chris," I heard her say; I think for my benefit. "Go on into the kitchen. Robbie's in there. Pour yourself a glass of wine. I'll be in in a minute." 

"Hi, Rob," he said. I smiled and raised my hand in greeting. "How's it going? Everything gonna be okay?"

"Hmm, yes, I think so. Yes indeed actually," I said.

"Okay you two, ready to eat," said Amanda prancing into the kitchen. She'd changed from her jeans and t-shirt into a short, and very pretty sundress. Too bad, I thought, it was probably the last time I'd see her look so pretty, or, at all.

"Actually, no," I said. "But you two can go ahead and eat."

"Huh? Is something wrong, Robbie?" she said.

"I guess it depends on how you look at things," I said. "But, to avoid belaboring the issue, I've made the decision to leave. I'll be leaving in a few minutes."

"But-but-but..." stuttered Amanda. "But, we want you to stay! Really!" she said, and that more than forcefully. "Don't we Chris?" He nodded obediently.

"And, why would that be if you feel embarrassed just to be around me in public, Amanda? And that especially since I am all but useless both sexually and socially. And, frankly, I have no desire to be treated like an expensive thoroughbred. And as for having you put a collar and leash on me; well, that ain't happening," I said. 

"Oh shit," said Chris, kinda quietly. "You heard us somehow. A recorder maybe?" I just shrugged.

"Robbie..." she started.

"Forget it, Amanda. You just got done burning the lottery ticket, and you can't get a duplicate," I said.

"For the record I will love you for the rest of my life. And, what is equally true, is that I never want to see or hear from you again; or, him either," I said, nodding in the direction of my replacement.

I rose and headed upstairs to get my stuff. They were waiting for me when I came down.

"Robbie, we can get by this. I know we can," she said,

"No, no, not this time. Goodbye to the both of you," I said. She was crying. Well, she had lost her winning lottery ticket.

******

Mackville had the virtue of being the residence of the dumbest jackass in the world, Travis Danson. He'd dumped her again, so my friend the barkeep at the We Smalls assured me.

"You're kidding me, Hal," I said.

"She was in here not an hour ago bemoaning his latest rejection of her not inconsiderable charms," he said. "I think she was hoping you might have been back earlier than you maybe planned." I looked him askance.

"You could have that little piece of fluff if you wanted," he said. 

"Huh?" I said.

"I know you've done her. Before exlax reclaimed her that last time, she'd let me know that you were a pretty special fella. Well, that's what she said," he said. I nodded. And while I was nodding, I was pulling out my cell.

She arrived an hour later, dressed to the nines. I had to think it had taken that long to make her the vision that finally showed up.

"Jesus, you look great," I said.

"Keep talking like that and you might get to do me," she said.

"That is my sincerest hope," I said, smiling.

We talked for some little while. I told her my sad story. She told he hers. We adjourned to her place. And, I fucked her until my cock was on the verge of needing medical treatment.

"So what do we do now?" she said, as we lay naked on the front room floor. 

"In my case burial because I just died and went to heaven," I said. 

"You say the nicest things," she said, "weird, but really nice."

"Well, I am a college graduate," I said. "But, what would you say to a proposal of marriage. I mean, you know I'm on the rebound, but then again, not really."




Rob and Amanda Lundsford



"Are you serious?" she said.

"As the proverbial heart attack," I said. "I've been kinda in love with you for a while. I just couldn't let myself go because of your sometime relationship with the biggest idiot in the world. But, I sense a change in that regard. Have I got it right?"

"Mister, I d believe you have," she said. "And, to answer your question: yes." I pulled her nakedness on top of me and kissed her till my lips hurt.

******

Stephanie and I were seldom apart after that, and then a month later we had the inevitable business meeting.

"Honey, she said. "I've got some money saved. We can get a little bigger place if you want." I gave her a look and I didn't even know what kind. Money issues hadn't even occurred to me. I still had a quarter mil stashed. I figured my new squeeze had maybe a twentieth of that, and she was offering it to us. I finally smiled broadly.

"I have some money kinda hidden away too. You know for a rainy day," I said. "I think between us we'll be fine. And I can get a better job, but we might have to relocate. Would that be okay with you, sweetheart?"

"Whatever works," she said. "Just so long as you don't dump me for some chickee. I couldn't bear that. I just couldn't," she said, she wasn't being comical.

"Never happen," I said. "You're stuck with me."

Two months later we were married, and I was reemployed at my old digs, Hilling's Investments. It took a few months, but soon I was back to making the kind of scratch that I used to. And, no, I'd had no communication with Amanda or her ten-inch dick since returning. That would be a while in coming.

******

"He's back at Hilling's," she said. "I hear he's doing real good too. One of our customer's told me so today."

"Really? How good," said Christopher Amundsen.

"Like the old days, I guess. Well, it's what he does, isn't it," she said. She went pensive.

"Amanda? You okay?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess. It's just—well, I wish he'd never heard us talking about him that day. It sure screwed things up," said Amanda. "I think I'm going to sell the house. Should get a pretty penny out of that. Well, that's the hope."

"Hmm," he said. "Let's go to bed." She nodded. He read her look. He knew she was beginning to realize that sex really was a distant second to overall happiness, contentment. He made up his mind.

She turned on her side. She was alone and the sun was up. He must be in the bathroom, she thought. She closed her eyes for a few more minutes. 

Stirring, she rolled out and checked the bathroom—nothing. She went down stairs. Nothing. She saw it, the note. She relaxed.

Amanda,

I'm leaving. We had a good run. But, can't stay any longer with no hope of marriage, and you always moping around about him. I tried; I really did. But, I want a life and a wife and maybe even kids, though as for that maybe it's too late, I don't know.

Be well,

Chris

Her sobs shook her very being.

"Hello, Morgan," said Amanda. 

"You're in early today," said Morgan. "You know, if you don't mind my saying so, Amanda, you've looked kind of down and out these past few days," said her coworker.

"Lot of personal problems, Morg, I'm fine," she said.

"Amanda, Lillian said she talked to you. Your boyfriend abandoned you?" he said.

She gave him a look. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to pry. It's just..."

"What, Morg," she said.

"Well, you know—well—I've always had a thing for you Mandy..." he said. 

"Huh?" she said

"Well, I mean if there's a chance, well, that you might like to go out one of these nights. I'm a great listener," he said. She gave him an indulgent smile.

"I don't know, Morg. Right now I'm kind of just eating and breathing. Not sure I'd be too good company. But, thanks for asking," she said. "Rain check?"

"Sure bet," he said. "Oh, I don't know if you saw it, but your ex-husband made the papers. Society page no less. Some kind of big shot now, I guess." He handed her the local paper to peruse.

In the break room, she looked for the society page, and there it was: him and his wife. Her name was Stephanie. She knew he'd married. She'd heard it on the grapevine. She felt envy, a little sadness, and something else—she felt happy for him. After so long a time, she finally knew what she'd lost, and not just in economic terms. Her little guy was a winner. Well, he used to be her little guy. She could see from the picture that he was taller than his new wife.

******

I was just coming out of Denny's: I love their patty melts. I bumped into him pretty hard; he staggered back. Stephanie was still inside settling the bill. I'd been detailed to get the car from the back of the lot.

"Oh, sorry man. Didn't..." I started.

"Robbie," said the woman a few feet behind him."

"Amanda!" I said.

"Robbie," she said, repeating herself.

"Yeah, it's me. You should know," I said, not unkindly.

"Uh—Robert Lundsford, this is Morgan Peters, my husband; we work together at Hammond's" she said. He stuck out a tentative hand. I took it. We shook.

"We were just going to get some lunch," she said. "Interest you in joining us?" Just as I was about to beg off, politely, Stephanie joined us.

"Amanda," said Stephanie. They'd never really met though they'd seen each other at the We Smalls B&G a couple of times. "Yes, we'd be good to have coffee with you. We've already eaten," she said.

"Steph?" I said.

"Don't be silly, Rob, we've a lot of history, especially you and Amanda. Coffee would be good. Perfect," she said. I shrugged. When the boss laid down the rules, it was a done deal.

"Am I missing something here?" said the newbie. 

"Morgan, honey, Robert is my ex-husband," said Amanda.

"So you're the guy she's told me so much about," he said. I think I actually grimaced.

We all adjourned inside.

The waitress was quick to have the coffee front of us, but only brought two menus; well, she had just got done cleaning up after me and Stephanie. Amanda seemed anxious to talk, and so she did.

"How are you doing, Robbie?" she said. Stephanie smiled.

"Good, and you, Amanda?" I said. My tone was flat, but not completely devoid of interest.

"Fine, Morgan and I, got married a few months ago. I want to say up front that he knows my—our—history. I laid it all out for him. No secrets, no games, no Chris Amundsens," she said. 

So there was the answer to the unvoiced questions I had had for the past five minutes or so. He knew, and she wasn't doing it anymore. Well, she said she wasn't.

"Well, that's good, interesting," I said. "How's life in the fast lane?"

"Good, we're happy. Heard about you and Stephanie here. Saw your pics in the paper," she said. Stephanie for her part was smiling affably and not offering anything but the occasional nod to the conversation. She seemed to sense that this conversation was going to be mainly between me and my ex. 

"Yes, didn't know we were going to be featured; somebody was snapping pictures at the function and I guess they liked ours. There were a lot of folks there," I said.

Morgan Peters was looking antsy. He finally decided to contribute. I eye'd him. Five seven or eight, handsome, built, looked like a serious guy. I wondered about him. And, it occurred to me that Amanda really did like her men to be shorter than her, at least the ones she married. And, that was something else to wonder about, I mean I guess I wasn't the only one.

"Mister Lundsford, I must say I'm glad to finally meet up with you. You've been kind of a mythic presence in our marriage up till now. But, meeting you has cleared some things up for me," he said. "You are a serious guy aren't you?"

"Huh?" I said.

"Intelligent, focused I can read those from just the little I've seen in these last minutes. Amanda—well Amanda, has told me about your differences; I mean from before. Nobody could write a novel like that. Well maybe Shakespeare," he said.

Stephanie finally broke in. "You're still working for the same company, then," said Stephanie.

"Yes, we both are," said Amanda, in the same office actually. It works for us. We ride together in the morning, arrange the same vacation schedules; well, you get the idea."

"Yes, I guess so," I said.

"Robbie," said Amanda, "I want to apologize for everything. Everything and especially the things we said about you in those days. They were unforgivable, and unconscionable."

"Water under the bridge Amanda. We're good," I said. I glanced over at my wife; she nodded her okay. "Uh—how about the Peters' clan come to a barbecue at our house next Saturday. I mean if you guys are clear."

"I—I—don't..." started Amanda.

"We'd be happy to," said Morgan. "What should we bring?" He got a quizzical look from Amanda, but she smiled and nodded her agreement.

"No, nothing. Just yourselves," I said. We toasted each other with our waters, and said our goodbyes.

******

"So do you think he'll front us the money?" said Morgan.

"Don't know for sure, but he's a softie, so probably," she said. "He never could resist me when I wore a certain perfume." She was laughing now.

"Well, so wear it. We need to get the money from somewhere if we want to open that little business you have in mind," he said. She smiled. 

******